#steve rodgers/tony stark

[florabellalove]

LET ME SPEAK MY TRUTH 🦢🫶🏼

sometimes I just want to read a reverse comfort fic about some big burly character absolutely breaking down, call it a saviour kink or whatever but there seems to be an absence in this world

[angelremnants]

American Wedding | S. Rogers

summary : Steve Rogers is throwing himself into mission after mission, trying to outrun the weight of his past—his unresolved feelings for Sharon and the lingering memories of Peggy. But when his commanding officers force him to take a break, Steve ends up on a staycation in Barbados. What begins as a forced respite soon becomes a much-needed escape as he unexpectedly finds healing, peace, and even a connection in the warmth of the Caribbean sun. Steve learns to let go of the past and finally breathe again, even if it’s just for a short while. Inspired by American Wedding (unreleased) by Frank Ocean.

pairing : Steve Rogers x f!reader

warnings : Fluff to angst, imposed traits on the reader such as an origin, emotional healing, mention of past relationships, themes of healing and self-discovery, themes of arranged marriages and family pressure, mentions of emotional and familial abuse, a bit of hurt/comfort, bittersweet ending, mentions of past trauma, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 12.3k

author's notes : I don't know what's wrong with me and writing long fics with major angst. I think I might have a problem.

If you're still as hooked in the MCU fandom as I am, then it shouldn't be a surprise for you that I stumbled upon the infamous Steve edit on American Wedding. Steve was my first little crush when I started getting into the MCU; it might not be my number one anymore, but I couldn't help but be mesmerized by the work and how well it could somehow fit the vibe of our golden boy.

Side note, I chose Barbados just because I love Rihanna (plus, the country is as gorgeous as she is). I tried to respect the culture as much as I could, but please do let me know if something is amiss. Anyways, here's my take on what this song could mean if associated with America's Ass greatest soldier.

(ao3 version)

The mission was over.

Steve Rogers had traded his usual Captain America tight suit for average civilian clothes and now stood just outside a bustling café in Bridgetown, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the vibrant streets of Barbados. He should’ve been relieved. The intel was secured, the rogue operation dismantled, and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were already working to extract the rest of the loose ends. But instead, Steve felt a familiar weight settle on his shoulders, one he couldn’t quite shake.

The air was heavy with the scent of fried fish and spices, and the sound of calypso music drifted from a nearby street performer. Locals walked by, some glancing curiously at the tall, broad-shouldered man who looked distinctly out of place. Steve’s fingers hovered over his phone, debating whether to call in and request another assignment.

Then, his phone buzzed in his hand, and the name Tony Stark lit up the screen.

Steve answered with a sigh, already bracing himself. “Stark.”

“Capsicle! How’s my favorite star-spangled soldier doing?” Tony’s voice was chipper, the sound of clinking glasses and faint jazz music in the background.

“I’m fine,” Steve replied, scanning the street as though someone might overhear. “Why are you calling?”

“Well, it’s not to remind you to update your playlist based on what I’m hearing in the background—though, seriously, we need to talk about that at some point.” Tony didn’t wait for a response. “No, I’m calling to let you know that for the first time in, oh, forever, we’re at a lull. No alien invasions. No rogue A.I.s. No infinity stones threatening to wipe out half the universe. You know what that means?”

Steve frowned. “That it’s time to prepare for the next crisis?”

Tony let out a dramatic groan. “And people say I’m the workaholic. No, Cap. It means you get a break.”

Steve rolled his eyes, leaning against the café’s wooden railing. “I don’t need a break, Tony. There’s always something that needs to be done—”

“Yeah, no. I’m gonna stop you right there.” Tony’s voice turned pointed, though there was still a hint of his trademark sarcasm. “I talked to Fury, and even he thinks you’ve been overdoing it. And considering the guy’s idea of a vacation involves a bunker and a bottle of bourbon, that’s saying something.”

“I’m fine,” Steve insisted, his tone tightening.

“Fine? Really? I mean, do you even know what day it is? Look, pretty much everyone’s off the grid—Sam, Natasha, even Clint’s in retirement mode. And I’m finally getting around to that honeymoon thing with Pepper because, you know, saving the world isn’t as good for a marriage as you’d think. So you? You need to chill.”

“Tony, I’m fine,” Steve had insisted, though even he didn’t sound convincing.

“Yeah, sure. That’s why you’ve been taking back-to-back missions for the past three months. What’s next? Fighting a volcano?”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, then realized he didn’t.

Tony took his silence as confirmation. “Listen, you’re not a machine, Cap. Even super-soldiers need to decompress. Which is why I, in all my infinite wisdom, am forcing you to take some time off.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tony—”

“Ah-ah! No arguments. Fury’s covering part of the bill, and I’m picking up the rest because I’m such a generous friend. You pick the place—anywhere in the world—and I’ll make it happen. You’re welcome.”

Steve glanced around, his eyes lingering on the vibrant life of the island. The azure waters sparkled in the distance, and the rhythmic sway of the palm trees seemed to beckon him. He hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe in months, maybe years.

“I don’t know,” Steve said slowly.

Tony groaned again, louder this time. “Come on, Cap. It’s not like I’m asking you to take a yoga class in Malibu. Though, honestly, you’d kill it in downward dog. No, I’m telling you to pick a nice spot, kick back, and—God forbid—relax for once in your life.”

“Tony—”

“Let me paint you a picture,” Tony interrupted, his tone turning theatrical. “A beachfront villa. Sunsets so pretty they’ll make you cry. Maybe a fruity drink with one of those little umbrellas—wait, scratch that, you’re more of a ‘beer and brooding’ guy. The point is, take the damn vacation, Steve. Doctor’s orders.”

Steve sighed, looking out the window of the outpost at the vibrant streets of Bridgetown. “I’ll stay here,” he said finally. “Barbados seems… peaceful.”

“Atta boy!” Tony cheered. “I’ll wire the funds. And hey, if you don’t send me at least one picture of you in a Hawaiian shirt, I’m gonna be very disappointed.”

Steve couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. I have a reputation to maintain.”

The line went dead, leaving Steve alone with the sounds of the island.

The first few days in Barbados passed in a blur of quiet solitude. Steve spent most of his time walking along the beach or sitting on the villa’s small porch, nursing a cold drink while the sun dipped below the horizon. For someone used to the constant hum of battlefields, strategy meetings, and high-stakes missions, the stillness was almost unnerving.

But it wasn’t just the quiet that unsettled him—it was the thoughts he’d been pushing aside for months. Thoughts of Sharon.

He’d tried not to dwell on their break-up, but here, surrounded by the warmth and beauty of the island, the memories crept in uninvited. Their relationship had ended just weeks ago, though the cracks had been there for far longer. She had been kind, understanding, and steadfast—everything Steve thought he should want. But every time he looked at her, a small, nagging voice whispered the truth he didn’t want to face.

She was Peggy’s niece.

No matter how much he tried to compartmentalize it, the connection was impossible to ignore. Every time Sharon smiled, there was a flicker of something familiar—her determination, her poise, even the way she carried herself. It wasn’t fair to either of them, but Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been chasing a shadow of the past. Sharon deserved more than that, and so did he.

When they’d finally called it quits, Sharon had been the one to speak the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“You’re still carrying her with you, Steve,” she’d said, her voice calm but heavy with resignation. “And maybe you always will. But I can’t be her for you. I don’t want to be.”

The guilt had followed him ever since. Sharon had been right. For all the years that had passed, Peggy still lingered in the corners of his mind—her voice, her laugh, the way she’d believed in him when no one else did. He hadn’t just been grieving Sharon’s absence; he was grieving Peggy all over again.

By the third day, Steve found himself wandering into a bustling part of Bridgetown, hoping the sights and sounds of the island might distract him. The streets were alive with energy—locals bartering at colorful market stalls, tourists snapping photos of historic buildings, and the rhythmic beat of soca music weaving through it all.

“Yuh lookin’ lost, boss,” a young man called out from behind a coconut cart. He was grinning, a machete in hand as he expertly cracked open a coconut.

Steve glanced back at him. “Just exploring.” 

“Ah, well, yuh gotta try dis,” the man said, handing him a freshly cut coconut. “Yuh look like yuh could use a lil’ taste of Bajan life. Fresh coconut water! Or yuh scared of a lil’ machete work?”

Steve smirked politely but didn’t respond, unsure if he was being teased or seriously invited. Before he could decide, you appeared, carrying a basket of fruits and shaking your head with a laugh.

“Jamal, stop tormenting de tourists!” you scolded lightheartedly. “Poor man just tryna enjoy ‘e day without you harassing him.”

Jamal shrugged with a grin, chopping open another coconut. “Ah, just showin’ him how we do it here, yuh know? He look like he need it.”

You turned to Steve, flashing a warm smile. “Ignore him, he does this to everyone. But,” you added, your tone playful, “he’s not wrong. Coconut water will fix whatever ails you. You should try one.”

Steve chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing. “If you say so,” he said, stepping closer.

You nodded approvingly as Jamal handed him the coconut. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” you teased.

Taking a sip, Steve found the cool water surprisingly refreshing. “This is good,” he admitted, glancing at you.

“Good?” you repeated with mock offense. “It’s de best on de island. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

Steve smiled, feeling more at ease than he had in days. “Guess I’ll need a guide, then,” he said, the words slipping out before he could overthink them.

You tilted your head, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “Lucky for you, I know everyone ‘round here. Stick with me, Captain America, and I’ll show you the real Barbados.”

He blinked, surprised you knew who he was.

“Relax,” you said with a wink. “We don’t make a big deal of celebrities' ‘round here. Besides, the way I see it, everybody needs a break—even heroes.”

He guessed he really did well in choosing his destination. 

Steve walked beside you through the busy streets, his coconut still in hand. The initial awkwardness of being recognized faded quickly as you carried the conversation effortlessly, your teasing making him smile more than he had in weeks.

“So, Captain America,” you said, throwing a glance over your shoulder with a grin. “What’s a hero like you doin’ walking ‘round alone in Barbados? Not enough trouble to save us from?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, I’m here because I was told to take a break. Guess I've been working a little too hard lately.”

“Working too hard? You? Never would’ve guessed,” you teased, your tone playful.

Steve shook his head, grinning. “What about you? You seem to know everyone here.”

“I do. Born and raised. And the people here? They’re my family—even Jamal, with his coconut antics,” you said with a laugh. “You stick wit’ me, and I’ll teach you all de secrets of the island.”

“Secrets, huh?” Steve said, his tone tinged with curiosity. “What kind of secrets?”

You stopped suddenly and gestured toward a small, colorful shack by the road. “For starters, the best fish cutters on the island are right here. Come, you can’t visit Barbados and not try one.”

Steve followed you to the shack, where an older man greeted you like an old friend. As you chatted easily with him, ordering food, Steve found himself watching you with a kind of quiet admiration. You were easygoing, quick to laugh, and had a warmth about you that was magnetic.

When the fish cutters arrived, you handed one to Steve. “Here. And don’t even think of saying it’s just ‘good.’ Dis is heaven in bread.”

He took a bite, his eyes widening. “Wow. Okay, you’re right—this is incredible.”

You smirked. “Told you. The locals always know best.”

As the two of you walked along the beach, the conversation grew more personal. You asked about his life back home, and he answered honestly, even about the heartbreak he was still trying to shake.

“So, this Sharon,” you said carefully, “she’s Peggy’s niece?”

Steve nodded, looking sheepish. “Yeah. It’s… complicated.”

“You think?” you teased gently, bumping your shoulder against his. “Sounds messy. But you know what? Sometimes you just need to let go of what’s complicated and hold on to what’s simple.”

“And what’s simple?” Steve asked, curious.

You stopped walking and turned to face him, your expression soft but playful. “This,” you said, gesturing to the ocean. “Good food, good company, and a little bit of adventure.” He smiled, the sincerity in your voice hitting him in a way he didn’t expect. “I think I’m starting to see your point.”

Over the next few days, you made good on your promise to show Steve the best of Barbados. True to your word, you showed Steve places that weren’t in any guidebook, sharing bits of history and culture along the way.

“This,” you said one morning, gesturing to a vibrant, bustling market, “is where you get the freshest fruit on the island. And where you learn to bargain.”

Steve watched in awe as you haggled with a vendor, the two of you laughing and bantering in a mix of Bajan dialect and English. When you returned with a bag of mangos and papayas, he raised a brow.

“You just got all that for half the price,” he said.

“Yup,” you said with a grin, popping a slice of mango into your mouth. “You're lucky you've got me, Captain. Otherwise, they’d have charged you double for being a tourist.”

“Good thing I’ve got you,” he said, his tone warm.

Later, you took him to a rum distillery, where you explained the process of making Barbados’ world-famous rum, teasing him as he tried a sample and coughed slightly at the burn.

“That strong for you, Cap?”

“Not strong enough to knock me out,” he replied, his voice laced with humor.

You then took him to the lively Oistins Fish Fry, where he tried grilled marlin and danced awkwardly but earnestly to soca music. You dragged him to Harrison’s Cave, laughing as he marveled at the limestone formations.

“You look like a kid seeing snow for de first time,” you teased.

“I’ve been frozen in snow for seventy years,” he replied, deadpan.

You burst out laughing, and even he cracked a smile at his own joke.

One afternoon, you led him on a hike up to Cherry Tree Hill, where the view of the rolling hills and turquoise ocean was breathtaking. As you stood beside him, the wind tugging at your dress, you glanced at him with a smile.

“You're not bad company, you know,” you said.

“Neither are you,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature half-smile.

“You keep looking at me like that, and I might think you’re sweet on me, Captain.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed faintly, but he held your gaze. “And what if I am?”

Your eyebrows shot up, surprised but delighted. “Well, then,” you said, stepping closer, “I hope you know you’re in for one hell of a ride.”

As the two of you strolled along a quieter path near the beach, the sunlight danced through the palm trees, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm he hadn’t experienced in months. He looked over at you, smiling at how animatedly you were explaining the significance of the bright kites dotting the sky—something about “kite season” and friendly neighborhood competitions.

“You know,” Steve said after a moment, “your accent isn’t quite like everyone else’s around here. It’s still got that lilt, but… it’s different.”

You glanced at him, a little surprised. “You noticed that, huh?”

He nodded. “I guess I’ve got an ear for detail. What’s the story there?”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Well, I went abroad for a few years—took my undergrad in the U.S. and just came back home recently.”

“Really?” Steve asked, intrigued. “What’d you study?”

As you walked beside Steve, your voice became more animated as you shared the kind of work you had done during your studies. “Well, when I was in the States for my undergrad, I did my thesis on cultural practices, specifically exploring the dynamics between traditional marriage structures and modern society.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? That sounds… complex. What kind of structures?”

“Yuh know, I looked into things like arranged marriages and how they vary across different cultures,” you explained, eyes sparkling with passion. “One part of my research focused on Islamic marriage traditions, particularly around the roles of brides and how modern perspectives are influencing those practices. It wasn’t about judging or anything, just trying to understand how people make it work, despite some of the harsh stereotypes.”

“Wow,” Steve said thoughtfully, clearly impressed. “Sounds like you dove deep into it. You didn’t go for the easy topics, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, not really. I wanted to tackle something meaningful. And, for me, it was important to explore how even with things like hijabs or polygamy, those traditions have layers, especially when it comes to women’s agency. It’s all about perspective.”

Steve nodded, clearly fascinated by your work. “It’s amazing how much you can learn when you dig into a topic. I guess that’s why you came back here, huh? To work on making a difference in your community.”

You smiled softly, thinking back on your time abroad. “Yeah. I learned a lot, but I always knew I’d come home. There’s so much to do here, and I want to make sure we’re not losing our identity as we modernize. Barbados is home, and I want to help make sure it stays that way.”

You laughed softly, shrugging. “Guess it’s de island girl in me. This place is part of who I am. But,” you added with a sheepish grin, “spendin’ so much time abroad, I guess I picked up a bit of de American accent. It slips in sometimes when I talk.”

“I think it’s kind of charming,” Steve said, surprising even himself with the comment.

You raised a brow at him, a slow smile spreading across your lips. “Careful, Captain, or I might think you’re tryin’ to sweet-talk me.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish but amused. “Maybe I am.”

Your laugh rang out, light and melodic. “Well, you’re not too bad at it.”

At one point, while they were sitting on a beachside bench, a gentle breeze tugging at their clothes, Steve caught her eye, and she smiled. That smile. He swore it was the brightest thing in the world, even more stunning than the sun hanging low in the sky behind her.

The conversation continued, with Steve steering it back toward you. He asked about your time abroad, what it was like living away from home, and what made you choose environmental science in the first place.

“And what about you?” you countered, tilting your head as you studied him. “You’ve been saving the world for what—over a century now?”

He chuckled. “Not quite that long, but close.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re slowin’ down anytime soon,” you said, your voice softer now. “But, Steve… don’t you ever just want to stop for a bit? Live a little for yourself?”

Her question caught him off guard. For a moment, he was quiet, the only sounds around you were the gentle crash of waves and the rustle of the wind in the trees.

“I guess I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted.

As you sat on the beach watching the sun dip below the horizon, you turned to Steve with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“So,” you began, “how do you feel about weddings?”

He looked at you warily. “Weddings?”

“Yeah. My… um, distant relative—you probably need a map to figure out how we’re related—is getting married this weekend. It’s a small thing,” she said, “But it’s a family event. You know how it is—everyone wants to show up and make it ‘extra’ for the aunties.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m guessing it’s not going to be your average wedding then?”

“Oh, no,” she grinned, “Think small chapel, a few too many drinks, maybe a bit of dancing, and a lot of awkward family members trying to act like they haven’t been feuding for the past ten years. But, you know, in the best way possible.”

Steve found himself laughing along with her, the ease between them growing stronger by the minute.

“Actually,” she said with a mischievous grin, “It’s going to be kind of hilarious. I was thinking…” she paused, glancing over at him. “You wanna come with me? As my… plus one?”

Steve blinked in surprise, but there was something about the way she said it as if she didn’t mind the idea of them being together at such a personal family event. “I mean, are you sure? I’m probably not what your family had in mind when they thought ‘plus one,’” he joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

She shrugged, the motion casual, but her gaze was intense. “Honestly, I don’t think anyone really knows what they’re getting when they invite me. And trust me, you’ll be far more interesting than the rest of my relatives.” She glanced at him sideways with a grin. “Besides, maybe they’ll like you more than me.”

“Are you trying to get me to go to your wedding as an act of charity?” he teased.

She laughed. “No, I’m offering you a chance to be part of something completely ridiculous, and trust me, you’ll be talking about it for years.”

“Well, in that case,” Steve said, pretending to think it over, “I guess I’ll be there. But you’ve got to warn me beforehand if there’s any kind of dancing involved. I’m not exactly a pro.”

Her grin widened. “Deal.”

They separated when it was well into the night, and soon enough Steve found himself back in his quaint hotel room, listening to the peaceful waves of the ocean. He laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind drifting back to the hours he’d spent with [Y/N] earlier.

He couldn’t help but replay the way she looked again and again in his mind. The first thing that struck him was how effortlessly beautiful she was. Her skin looked golden when it caught the sunlight in a way that made everything around her seem brighter, like she was glowing from within. Her hair framed her face in soft waves, a contrast to the sun-kissed skin that made her seem like she belonged to the island itself. It wasn’t just the way she looked, though; it was the way she carried herself. She moved with such ease, like she was perfectly in tune with the world around her, as though every step was measured but never forced.

Her eyes—those eyes—were a shade that seemed almost impossible, warm and deep, with a spark that made it clear she was fully present, fully alive in every conversation. When she spoke, it was with an accent that was distinctly Barbadian, but there was a softness to it, a hint of something else—like she’d been somewhere far from home and had returned with more layers than when she left. Her smile had been what did it to him, though. It wasn’t just the way it lit up her face, but the way it made him feel like he was the only one in the world she was focusing on, even if it was just for a moment.

And it wasn’t just her looks—Steve knew he’d never felt this way about someone in years, the way his heart seemed to skip when she caught his gaze, the way the mere thought of her made him feel like a teenager again, nervous and unsure but eager all the same. The more he thought about her, the more the feeling intensified, like a slow burn in his chest. He tried to push it down, telling himself it was just the heat, just the newness of it all, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. He had found something in her, something that made the weight of everything else just… fade away.

The way she laughed, her smile so effortless, like she was a living embodiment of the sun that bathed the island in warmth. There was something about her that made his chest tighten—something magnetic, yet disarmingly genuine. He’d expected a brief distraction on this trip, maybe a drink with a stranger. Instead, she had effortlessly captivated him. Her energy was infectious, and even in the quiet moments, she had a way of drawing him in. The little quirks of her accent, the way she’d pause mid-sentence to correct herself, as if speaking a second language she hadn’t used in too long—there was a vulnerability in it that made her all the more endearing.

And then there was the tattoo. That damn tattoo. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d barely even paid attention to it at first, but after spending hours with her, it stood out more, like a proud branding. A temporary tattoo she’d convinced him to get while they were strolling around. It was a simple design, a swirling wave pattern across his left hand, something that matched the feeling of freedom he’d had with her that day. He looked down at his hand now, the ink still vivid, but with a hint of purple-ish blue where it was starting to fade. She’d laughed when he’d rolled up his sleeve to show her, clearly impressed by how well it suited him. He never thought he’d have fun getting a tattoo, temporary or not, but the experience had been entirely different with her. Everything felt light, effortless, fun.

As his mind wandered further, Steve found himself imagining something he hadn’t thought about in a long time: the future. The thought of her in a wedding gown, walking down the aisle toward him, made his heart race. He couldn’t help but picture it, absurdly vivid—[Y/N], laughing under the lights, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him in that way only she could. He’d be there, in a tux, grinning like a fool, probably fumbling over his vows. He could almost hear the judge’s voice, telling them to kiss, and there she’d be—his wife, laughing with him as they made it official in a courthouse with nothing but their hearts and a rush of love propelling them forward. The thought made him shake his head in surprise, crimson adorning his cheeks. It was ridiculous, yet felt so very real. He was falling for her in ways he never thought possible.

He tried to focus on other things—his next move, the mission he’d just completed—but as much as he tried, the tattoo kept pulling his attention back to her. It wasn’t just the design; it was the way it had been something shared between them. A small, playful gesture, but one that made the whole day feel… connected. He smiled to himself, the thought of her making his heart race again. He shifted uncomfortably under the covers, trying to shake off the sudden rush of warmth that had pooled in his stomach.

But as much as he tried to focus on other things, her laugh kept echoing in his mind, and the image of her running after his vehicle earlier today kept replaying, like something out of a dream he didn’t want to wake from. It was a feeling he hadn’t realized he’d missed—the easy excitement of getting to know someone new. He rolled over onto his side, trying to get some rest, but his mind wouldn’t quiet. No, he thought to himself, he wasn’t about to start feeling this way about her. Not now, not when he had so much left unsaid, so many wounds still open. But as sleep slowly began to pull him under, that feeling—warm and electric—lingered in the back of his mind, making it hard to ignore the undeniable pull he felt toward her.

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the streets as Steve revved the engine of the bright red 5.0 Mustang he’d rented for his trip. He’d opted for the car, not just for the joy of driving it, but because he thought it might impress [Y/N]. Plus, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to show off a little, especially when he’d be picking her up from university. He’d learned from their conversations how much effort she’d put into her education and her dedication to her work, and he was eager to see where she spent her days.

He parked the Mustang in front of the university building, its polished surface gleaming under the late afternoon sun. His eyes scanned the steps, waiting for her to appear. He’d offered to take her to the wedding, knowing how much it meant to her. He’d also taken the time to ensure he had the right attire, knowing it would be expected of him. He wanted to be the gentleman. But it wasn’t just about impressing her family; it was about showing her that he respected her, that he was willing to step into her world, no matter how different it might be from his.

Soon, she appeared on the steps, a bundle of papers that she had to submit for her master's application clutched in her hand as she hurried down toward him. She wore a light sundress floating around her figure as she walked towards him, and Steve couldn’t help but notice the way the late afternoon sun made her glow. As she approached the car, she glanced at him with a playful grin, her eyes lighting up when she saw the Mustang.

“You sure know how to make an entrance, huh?” she teased, her voice laced with amusement as she slid into the passenger seat.

Steve chuckled, feeling a slight rush of pride. “Figured I’d try to keep up with you,” he said, glancing at her as he started the engine. “Ready for this?”

She nodded, still smiling. “I’ve never been more ready. Just a heads-up, though—my parents might give you the look. You know, the ‘who is this American?’ look.” She winked, but there was something soft in her gaze that made Steve feel like maybe she wasn’t entirely at ease either.

“Yeah, I’m used to ‘the look.’” He grinned, determined to be charming despite the tension in the air. He wanted to make her feel at ease.

As they drove toward the wedding venue, Steve kept the conversation light, asking about her studies, her thoughts on the wedding, and what her family was like. She talked about her work with passion, but Steve couldn’t help but notice the slight apprehension in her tone when she mentioned her parents.

When they arrived, he was introduced to her family, his hand shaking politely as he greeted her parents with a well-practiced smile. They weren’t unfriendly, but there was a certain coldness to their demeanor, like they were sizing him up, unsure of what to make of him. Steve, ever the gentleman, took it in stride, asking questions and trying his best to blend in. But as the evening wore on, it became clear that [Y/N] was not quite as comfortable as she let on.

She was whisked away by her family to change into something more formal, and Steve found himself left to fend for, alone in the crowd of unfamiliar faces. He quietly took a seat, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of her.

As the evening wore on, Steve found himself being gently but firmly ushered away from the crowd by one of [Y/N]’s relatives. He was led to a room at the back of the venue, where an array of Barjan formal attire awaited him. The family had been insistent on ensuring he was properly dressed for the occasion, a tradition that Steve hadn’t anticipated.

“I guess I’ll have to dress the part,” Steve muttered to himself, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as the servant handed him a traditional Barjan tuxedo. It wasn’t quite what he’d expected, but he knew better than to argue—[Y/N] had asked for him to be taken care of, and he wanted to honor that.

The outfit was stunning: a sharply tailored jacket with intricate gold embroidery at the collar and cuffs, paired with sleek trousers that tapered perfectly at the ankle. The fabric was a rich, deep shade of midnight blue that shimmered under the light, and the shirt underneath was a crisp white with a soft sheen. He looked at himself in the mirror, admiring the polished shoes and the way the suit fit him perfectly, as though he’d been born to wear it.

As Steve finished adjusting his tie, he couldn’t help but think about how much this wedding had already become so much more than what he’d anticipated. He wasn’t just here as a guest; he was part of her world, even if that world was foreign to him in many ways. He was eager to see her, to see what she would look like in her formal attire, and the thought of her in a gown left him feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Once he was dressed, Steve rejoined the others in the main hall, where he was greeted by [Y/N]’s family, all clad in their formal Barjan attire. The women wore elegant, flowing gowns, with intricate beadwork and colorful patterns that reflected the island’s natural beauty. The men wore similarly rich outfits, with patterned vests and gold-accented details that gave them an air of authority and elegance. Steve felt like he’d been transported to another world, one full of tradition, culture, and beauty.

Then, finally, [Y/N] entered, and Steve’s breath caught in his throat. She looked radiant. Her dress was everything he’d imagined and more: a delicate, embroidered gown with a soft blush hue, its flowing fabric catching the light with every step. The intricate patterns on her dress mirrored the ones in her family’s attire, as though they were all part of one elaborate, elegant tapestry. Her hair was let loose in its natural soft waves, and the sparkle in her eyes made her seem even more ethereal.

She smiled when she saw him, and Steve felt his chest tighten with something he couldn’t quite put into words. “You look… incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled back, her eyes twinkling. “Thank you,” she replied, her tone light but warm. 

They shared a quiet moment, their connection palpable. The formal attire, the elegance of the night—it all felt surreal, yet right at the same time.

Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off [Y/N] as the wedding celebration rolled on. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room, but it wasn’t just her looks that had him captivated. It was the way she carried herself, effortlessly blending into the crowd while still standing out. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—not amid all the military stuff he had been through, not after everything he’d seen. But with her, it was different.

As they stood by the drinks table, Steve couldn’t resist a smile. “You clean up pretty well,” he said, the words coming out more smoothly than he intended, but it was true. She looked stunning in that dress, her laughter echoing in his chest like a warm melody.

[Y/N] looked over at him, her gaze teasing. “For a guy who usually wears a uniform, you look pretty good in that suit yourself.”

“Well, I’m trying to keep up with you,” he replied, giving her a half-smile. “You know, trying to make a good impression.”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping just slightly, playful but with that edge of seriousness Steve had come to recognize. “You don’t need to try so hard,” she said, her words almost a challenge. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know what it was about her that got under his skin like this, but the way she made him feel was disorienting, like the ground wasn’t quite steady beneath him. It had been a long time since he’d felt this much—anything, really.

“So,” he said, trying to keep his composure, “what’s next? You’ve already got my attention, and I’m starting to think that’s the only thing I’m focused on tonight.”

Her lips curved into a smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I guess maybe you should focus on me a little more,” she teased, but there was something deeper in her voice, a subtle invitation that made Steve want to step closer. “After all, there’s still plenty of weddings left, Captain.”

Steve blinked at the title, his face softening into a grin. “I’m not used to being called that at a party,” he joked, though his mind was already on the edge, keeping himself from crossing the line. He wasn’t used to this kind of playful banter. In the military, things were direct, and to the point. But with [Y/N], it was different. She made him feel… lighter. He’d never thought he’d feel this way, especially not in the middle of something so unfamiliar, like a wedding halfway around the world.

He leaned in slightly, just enough to get her attention. “But I’ll insist, you’ve got me distracted, more than I thought possible.”

[Y/N] laughed softly, as though she was enjoying the chase, but she stayed close enough that their words felt like a secret between the two of them. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, her voice carrying the slightest hint of mischief. “Though, maybe I should keep you on your toes a little longer. Can’t make it too easy for you, Captain.”

Before Steve could respond, her parents arrived, their presence immediately cooling the warm atmosphere between them. The formalities kicked back in, and Steve felt a slight shift in [Y/N]’s demeanor. She seemed to retreat into herself a bit, her smile faltering. Her parents were speaking with her in low tones, their voices too serious for the celebratory mood of the evening. Steve’s protective instincts flared, but he knew better than to interrupt family matters.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile as they spoke, but it wasn’t enough. Her parents were speaking to her in hushed tones, their words sharp, but Steve managed to catch bits and pieces with his super-soldier hearing. “You’ll marry him soon. It’s already arranged,” her mother’s voice was firm, but there was an undeniable sense of finality in it.

[Y/N]’s expression darkened as she listened, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress as if trying to hold herself together. Steve’s heart ached for her. He didn’t know what was being said, but he could see the pain in her eyes. He wasn’t about to let this go unnoticed, not when it was clear she needed support.

Without a second thought, he moved toward her, gently pushing through the crowd to reach her side. As soon as she saw him, she turned away from her parents, her expression a mix of frustration and sadness.

“[Y/N]?” Steve called out softly, his voice full of concern as he reached out to her.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she hurried toward the back of the venue, away from the eyes of her family, with Steve following close behind.

“Hey, hey,” he said, catching up with her and gently taking her arm. “What’s going on?” She looked at him, her eyes wide with emotion. “They… they’ve already arranged my marriage, Steve,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “To someone I don’t even know.”

The drive back to the beach was quiet. The low rumble of the engine was the only sound between them as Steve kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The Mustang purred beneath them, but it felt hollow in the silence that stretched out like the ocean they were heading toward. Steve was trying to give [Y/N] space, but the tension between them was palpable. He knew she was struggling, knew that what had happened at the wedding had cracked something wide open. The weight of it all hung heavily in the air, thick and suffocating.

The soft hum of the ocean was the only sound that accompanied them as they walked along the shore. The sand beneath their feet was cool from the night air, and the sky was dotted with stars, but the world felt heavy around them. [Y/N] was quiet, her steps slow, her mind still racing with the events that had just unfolded. Steve kept a careful distance, giving her space, but his mind was working overtime—trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

They reached the spot where they’d stood together the day before, where the horizon stretched out before them, untouched and endless. The contrast between that peaceful moment and this was sharp. He could still see the laughter in her eyes, the carefree joy they had shared—but now, her face was clouded with doubt and fear.

Steve paused for a moment, looking at her as she stared out into the dark expanse of the ocean. He wanted to fix this, to do something, anything, to take away the pain that had suddenly overwhelmed her, but he knew this was something only she could express. He was here to listen, to be present, and that was what mattered right now.

[Y/N] broke the silence, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves. “I thought I had more time, Steve. I thought I had figured things out. I worked so hard for this freedom.” Her voice cracked as she looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I thought that if I could prove myself, if I could show them that I could make something of my life… they’d let me go. But now, they’ve taken everything. They hid my passport. They took my money. And now, I have nothing.”

The raw vulnerability in her voice hit him harder than he expected. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out instinctively, resting on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away. She needed comfort—he could feel it, even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to accept it.

“[Y/N]…” he whispered, his voice full of empathy. He didn’t know what to say, not really. What could he say to make this better? But she kept going, her words tumbling out like a dam had broken.

“I came back thinking everything would be different,” she continued, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I thought if I came back successful, I could change their minds. But they’ve already planned everything. They’ve arranged my marriage to someone I’ve never met… and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Steve’s heart sank as he heard the desperation in her voice. He wanted to scream, wanted to fight, to tell her that she didn’t deserve this, that she didn’t have to go through this alone. But instead, he just wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, offering her the one thing he could give—comfort.

“You’re not alone, [Y/N],” he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She pressed her face against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like… to be trapped like this, with no way out. I can’t even run anymore.”

Steve tightened his hold on her, feeling the weight of her pain in his bones. He had faced his fair share of burdens, of being trapped by duty, but this—this was different. She wasn’t bound by a war or a mission. She was bound by a life she hadn’t chosen, a future her parents had decided for her.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said again, his voice hoarse. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t know how, but I’m not going to let them take you from your life.”

She pulled back slightly, her face streaked with tears, her breath ragged. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he truly meant it. That he wasn’t just saying what he thought she wanted to hear.

“I don’t even know how to fight this anymore,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “They have everything… They control everything. And I just wanted to live my life. I just wanted a chance to choose.”

Steve cupped her face gently in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “And you will. We’ll find a way. You’re not stuck. I promise you that.”

The tension between them was thick, raw, and emotional. It wasn’t just about the fight against her parents. It was about everything that had been left unsaid, everything that had been building between them. The air between them crackled with unspoken words, a connection that had been forged over the past couple of days but hadn’t fully been explored until now.

“I can’t let you go through this alone,” Steve said, his voice low and steady. “Not now. Not ever.”

She searched his eyes, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. There was a tension in the air—an unspoken connection that hung between them like a spark, waiting for someone to ignite it. Steve wasn’t sure who moved first, but before he could think twice, [Y/N] closed the distance, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. The world seemed to fall away in that instant, leaving just the two of them in the quiet of the night, where nothing else mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths shallow, [Y/N] looked at him, her eyes searching his face. “I never wanted to drag you into this, Steve,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m scared.”

Steve cupped her face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. “You’re not dragging me into anything, [Y/N]. I want to be here. With you.” His voice was steady, but the emotion behind it was raw and real. “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

She nodded, her lips trembling as she tried to hold back more tears. “But it’s too much. This wedding, this whole thing… it was supposed to be my escape, and now it feels like my worst nightmare.”

Steve leaned his forehead against hers, the cool air of the night brushing against them. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady the turmoil inside of him. “Look, maybe this doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But you’ve got me, [Y/N]. You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t matter to me. It means something. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes softened at his words, and despite the storm of emotions, she found comfort in his touch, in the sincerity in his eyes. The tension between them was palpable, but in that moment, it wasn’t just about what they had, or the mess of their circumstances. It was about a promise—unspoken but understood—that they would face this together, no matter what it took.

“I can’t promise things will be easy,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… maybe if you stay, if we try, we could figure this out. Together.”

Steve kissed her forehead softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “You’re not alone in this, [Y/N]. Not anymore.”

And as they stood there, under the stars, in a moment that felt timeless, Steve knew one thing for sure—whatever came next, he wasn’t going to let her face it without him.

The air in Steve’s hotel room felt different now, quieter, heavier. The events of the day hung between them, both the wedding and the weight of [Y/N]’s revelation. After the drive back to the beach, she had refused to go back home, not wanting to face the reality that awaited her. Steve had insisted she stay with him for the night—there was no way he could let her face everything alone, especially now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Steve rubbed a hand over his face, his mind racing with possible ways to help her. He wanted to be her knight in shining armor, but he couldn’t simply waltz in and fix things with a few words. She was trapped—her passport, her future, everything—locked away by the people who were supposed to love and protect her.

“[Y/N], I…” He trailed off, not quite sure how to say what he was thinking. “I’ll figure something out.”

She was curled up in the armchair by the window, gazing out at the city lights, her expression distant. She didn’t speak for a long time. She didn’t need to. She didn’t need to tell him how much it hurt, how much it all stung—he could see it in her eyes. The hopelessness, the exhaustion. The realization that this wasn’t just a fight for freedom. It was a fight for her entire life.

Suddenly, something clicked in Steve’s mind. He turned to face her, the idea solidifying. “What if I could help you get out of here?” he asked, voice low but urgent. 

Her eyes flickered toward him, but the sadness in them didn’t fade. “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I can pull some strings. They have resources—people who can help you, maybe even with getting a passport or finding a way to go somewhere else for a while. You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to stay trapped in this.”

She shook her head, the weight of the thought sinking in. “But they’ll come for me, Steve. My family…” She trailed off, biting her lip. “I don’t think I can escape them.”

Steve stepped closer, his gaze locking on hers. “I’m not going to let you go through this alone. You’ve got more options than you realize.” He looked down, something catching his throat. He had a lot of connections, but even with all that, he wasn’t sure if it would be enough. But he’d damn well try.

Then, another thought hit him, and he stood, moving toward the table where the papers were scattered. The Mustang. It had been his escape for the weekend, a symbol of freedom, but now it was a tool he could use for her. “I rented it for the trip,” he said, his mind working. “But maybe… I can buy and sell it. Use the funds to help you get started, to give you a little cushion until we figure out your next move.”

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but Steve cut her off before she could speak. “It’s not much, but it’s something. You’re not going to keep fighting this alone.”

[Y/N] stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “I can’t accept that, Steve. You know I can’t, it’s expensive and it’s too much work.”

He met her gaze, determination in his eyes. “You mean so much more to me than a car, [Y/N].” The words came out before he could stop them, and his chest tightened at the vulnerability in his own voice. “I’m not going to leave you to deal with this on your own. Not now, not ever.”

Her eyes softened, but there was still a sadness there. “I don’t know if I can go back to my family, Steve. I don’t think I can survive that again.”

A surge of protectiveness ran through him. He stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out, but he hesitated just before it touched her. “I won’t let them get you.” His voice was rough, but there was an undeniable sincerity to it.

[Y/N] looked down at the table for a moment, then back to him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispered.

Without thinking, Steve gently cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head to meet his eyes. The moment felt suspended, like the world had stilled just for them. He leaned in slowly, as if asking for permission before pressing his lips against hers.

It wasn’t a kiss of passion, not at first. It was soft, tender, like a promise—an unspoken agreement that no matter what happened next, they wouldn’t have to face it alone. The kiss deepened as the weight of everything—the pressure, the fear, the hope—flooded through them both.

When they pulled back, Steve reached into his pocket, feeling out the small, simple ring he had kept for years—a ring that had once been meant for Peggy. It was never given, never worn, but he had carried it with him as a relic from the past, a piece of his lost future with her. But it had also been something else—a lucky charm, a symbol of what was lost, but also what he might still be capable of.

As he looked at [Y/N], a memory flashed in his mind—the conversation with Sharon, her words weighing heavily on his heart.

You’re still carrying her with you, Steve. 

Those words had haunted him. He had spent so long carrying Peggy’s memory, holding onto the past, thinking it was the only way forward. But at this moment, it hit him. 

Maybe Peggy’s spirit had always been willing him to move on. To let go of the relics of the past, to make space for something new, something real. He didn’t need to carry that ring anymore. He could finally let it go.

[Y/N] looked up at him, and for the first time that night, she smiled—a real smile, the kind that reached her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s coming next, but… I’ll trust you.”

Steve nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders. For a moment, everything felt as it should be—like the world outside didn’t matter, and the only thing that mattered was the two of them.

The following morning, Steve awoke to the soft sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore. The room was dim, the early light creeping in through the windows. He turned his head and saw [Y/N] still asleep, curled up next to him. Her breathing was steady, peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before.

Today was his last day in Barbados. 

They hadn’t solved everything, not yet, but they had taken the first step. They had found each other in a moment of vulnerability, and for once, the world outside felt a little less pressing. He smiled softly, brushing a few strands of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her skin.

As he watched her, his thoughts turned to Peggy—her memory, her spirit—but now it felt like a distant ache, not a tether keeping him bound to the past. Peggy had been a part of his journey, but he had learned that it was okay to move on, to let go. The future, whatever it held, didn’t need to be defined by what was lost. It could be shaped by what was right in front of him—[Y/N], a new beginning, a chance to build something of their own.

[Y/N] stirred and slowly opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. A soft smile appeared on her lips as she stretched, still half asleep.

“Morning,” she whispered, her voice still thick with the remnants of sleep.

“Morning,” Steve replied, his heart light, despite everything they still had to face. “How are you feeling?”

She paused for a moment, her eyes searching his as if weighing the sincerity in his words. She glanced down in lost thought before meeting his gaze again. “I’m… okay,” she said quietly. “It’s a long road ahead, Steve. But I don’t feel so lost anymore.”

Steve nodded, his hand gently caressing her arm. “We’ll take it one step at a time. I’ll help you with whatever comes next. We’ll figure it out together.”

Her eyes softened, and she gave a small nod. She wasn’t fully healed, and there was a long way to go, but there was hope now. And that was enough.

The sun had fully risen by the time Steve and [Y/N] were ready to face the world again. After the heartfelt conversation the night before, it felt like they had made strides, but the morning light brought a sobering clarity.

Steve stood at the window of the hotel room, staring out at the endless horizon, the weight of his duty pressing down on him. He had known this moment would come. He had always known that being with [Y/N] was a fleeting thing, a brief escape from the responsibilities he could never quite shake off. There was a sense of urgency in his chest, a reminder of the mission waiting for him, the world that still needed saving.

[Y/N] had showered and dressed in silence, her face still pale from the weight of everything she’d gone through. She moved quietly around the room, packing her things as if trying to avoid the inevitable. She hadn’t said it, but Steve could feel her resistance. The distance between them had already started to stretch.

He turned away from the window as she sat on the edge of the bed, looking small in the oversized hotel robe. She wasn’t meeting his gaze, and he couldn’t blame her. She had put everything on the line to be with him, only to have to face the reality that they couldn’t have a future together—not now, at least.

“I’ve been thinking,” Steve began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “I might be able to help you get out of here, help you get your life back. Maybe through SHIELD… I’ll make sure you’re safe, that you have a way out of this. I’ll talk to the director.”

[Y/N] didn’t respond immediately. She just stared at her hands in her lap, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

“I don’t want you to do this for me, Steve,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You have a life… your duty. You don’t have to fix this for me. I’ll find a way out, one way or another. I’ve been running from this for years. I can handle it.”

Steve clenched his jaw, fighting the frustration bubbling up. “You shouldn’t have to,” he said quietly, walking over to where she sat. He crouched in front of her, his hands resting gently on her knees. “You deserve better than this. You deserve more than a life of being pushed around by other people’s choices.”

Her eyes finally met his, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the weight of the world between them. “I thought… I thought I could have a different life,” she said softly, her voice breaking as she blinked back tears. “But I don’t know how to get away from this. I don’t know how to get out.”

Steve took a deep breath, his heart aching for her. The situation wasn’t fair, and he couldn’t give her the kind of life she deserved. Not right now.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wedding ring. It was strange, how something so tied to the past had suddenly become a symbol of hope for the future. He had carried it for too long, unsure of whether he would ever move on, but now it felt right. 

He placed the ring in [Y/N]’s hand, his fingers lingering on hers for a moment. “I can’t stay, [Y/N]. You know that,” he said softly. “But this… this is for you. It meant a lot to me for a while, and now I want you to have it so you remember that you’re not alone. You’re stronger than you know, and one day, you’ll find your way out of all this. I believe that.”

[Y/N] held the ring in her hand, her fingers wrapping around it as if it were the last thing tethering her to a future she wasn’t sure she could have. Her tears finally spilled over, and she let out a shaky breath.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Steve nodded, standing up and giving her one last, lingering look. “I have to. There’s a world that still needs saving, and I can’t turn my back on it. But you’ll be okay. I know you will.”

[Y/N] nodded slowly, wiping her eyes as she looked at him one last time. “I’ll find a way… to make things right. I will.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of what they couldn’t have settling between them. Steve reached down and gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“I’ll never forget you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And maybe one day… if the world isn’t too broken, we’ll find a way back to each other.”

She nodded, her heart torn, but she knew the truth of his words. They were both tied to duty, to the things that had shaped their lives. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t remember the good, the fleeting moments of peace they had shared. They would always have those. “I’ll keep this,” she whispered, holding up the ring. “It’s all I’ll have left of us.”

Steve and [Y/N] spent their final hours together. The air between them was thick with the bittersweetness of time running out, but neither of them wanted to waste a single moment.

They spent the day doing little things that made it feel like time had slowed down. A quiet breakfast by the beach, just the two of them, the waves gently crashing against the shore. They walked along the sand, hand in hand, the sounds of the ocean almost drowning out the world around them. They shared memories, laughter, and stories, as though pretending the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on them.

But no matter how hard they tried, the reality couldn’t be ignored. Time was slipping through their fingers.

In the afternoon, they sat together on the same spot where they had spent their first evening, the sunset painting the sky with shades of pink, orange, and gold. Steve leaned against a large rock, his arm around [Y/N] as she rested her head on his shoulder, both of them watching the fading light. The silence between them was comfortable, but filled with unspoken words.

“I wish we had more time,” [Y/N] murmured, breaking the stillness. She turned her face toward him, her eyes reflecting the same sorrow he felt.

“I wish I could give it to you,” Steve replied, his voice low. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her skin like it was the last time he could touch her. “But you’re strong. You’ll be okay. You’ve already come so far.”

She gave him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What about you, Steve? Will you be okay?”

He paused, unsure how to answer. He couldn’t promise her that he’d be okay, not when he had so many things pulling him in different directions. But he knew one thing for sure: this day, this moment, was something he would carry with him for the rest of his life. “I think I will,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

They sat in silence again, just watching the sunset, neither of them willing to let go of the moment.

As the evening wore on, they went back to the hotel, their movements slower now, almost reluctant. Steve knew what was coming. The inevitable parting. And it hurt more than he had expected.

Before he left the room, [Y/N] handed him something—a small, folded piece of paper. He opened it, and inside was a drawing of a Mustang, her version of the car he had rented. On the bottom, she’d written, “For when you’re far away.”

Steve looked at her, his chest tight with emotion. He didn’t know what to say. The words caught in his throat. So, instead, he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight hug. He kissed the top of her head, breathing her in one last time.

“You’ll always have me in your heart,” he whispered, holding her as if he could keep her there forever. [Y/N] nodded, her tears threatening to fall.

“And you’ll always have me, Steve. No matter where you are.”

Steve’s boots clicked against the cold floor of the Avengers compound as he entered, the familiar hum of the place only adds to the weight in his chest. He’d just come back from his brief time away, a time he wasn’t sure how to summarize. It had been a whirlwind, a mixture of emotions he hadn’t expected to feel so deeply. But this sudden vacation had successfully changed him.

As he stepped into the common room, he saw Tony lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to a screen. The moment Steve walked in, Tony looked up with a grin, clearly expecting the usual sarcastic quip.

“So, Cap, how was your vacation?” Tony asked, casually tossing a glance at him.

Steve set down his duffel bag and leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t quite know how to explain what he’d experienced, what he’d left behind. The memories of [Y/N] lingered in his mind, and they felt like a weight he wasn’t sure how to carry.

“It was… well, it really helped me, Tony,” Steve said quietly, his voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper there, something he hadn’t figured out how to unpack yet. He glanced out the window for a moment, as though the ocean and the memories of the beach could somehow soothe him. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that time until it was over.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, always quick to read between the lines. But he didn’t push; instead, he took a sip from his glass and leaned back, knowing when not to ask further questions. “Good to hear, Cap. We all need a break now and then.”

Steve nodded but didn’t answer immediately. His mind kept drifting back to the last day he’d spent with [Y/N]—how they’d spent hours walking along the beach, hand in hand, knowing it was the end of something beautiful but fleeting. He remembered the warmth of the sun on his face, the way her smile had both broken his heart and healed it at the same time. But what hit him hardest was the way they’d parted. There was no easy goodbye, no promise that they would somehow find a way to be together. Just the certainty that life, as it often did, would pull them in different directions.

He couldn’t help but think about that damn Mustang. The one he’d rented for her, the symbol of the escape she had needed so badly. She’d drawn it for him—her version of it, something small and tender that he would hold onto forever. The image of her face, so full of determination and quiet sorrow, was forever etched in his mind.

And yet, he knew he had to leave. He couldn’t stay. Duty was calling, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t just throw everything away. She had her own future now, a future she had fought so hard to build. And he had his—one that couldn’t afford distractions, no matter how deep the feelings had run.

Tony watched Steve, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” he asked casually.

Steve blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. He hadn’t expected Tony to guess it so quickly, but then again, Tony always had a way of cutting through the bullshit. He didn’t know how to explain what had happened with [Y/N], what they had meant to each other. And he didn’t want to, not yet.

“I am,” Steve admitted softly. “But it doesn’t matter. She’s going to be okay, Tony. I made sure of it.” His voice was low, steady with conviction, but there was something else there—a tinge of regret that he couldn’t quite shake.

Tony studied him for a moment. “That’s good, Cap. But you don’t have to keep it all together all the time, you know? It’s okay to feel like you don’t have all the answers.”

Steve chuckled softly, the humor in his voice tinged with melancholy. “I’m still figuring that out.”

Steve had made sure [Y/N] left before him and was taken care of before he made his departure. He had called in every favor, using his influence and SHIELD’s resources to ensure she could leave her old life behind and start fresh. After everything that happened, she deserved a chance at freedom. Her parents’ control over her life, the arranged marriage, had weighed heavily on her shoulders for so long. But now, with Steve’s help, [Y/N] was free.

With her new identity, a fresh passport, and a financial cushion, she had the chance to build her future on her own terms. Steve knew she had the strength to make something of herself, but it wouldn’t be easy. He’d made sure she had the right people backing her, a network of allies who could help her navigate her new life, far from the constraints of her family’s expectations.

She was enrolling in a prestigious university overseas, something she’d always dreamed of but never had the opportunity to do before. The freedom she’d fought for was within reach. Her family would never understand, but she didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t the person they had tried to mold her into. She had become her own woman.

But just leaving wasn’t simple. The scars of her past, her family’s rejection, and the haunting memories of the arranged marriage still lingered. She had to rebuild herself from the ground up, and Steve had been there for her every step of the way, even from afar, even if she didn’t directly know it. He’d given up a part of himself—his heart, his peace of mind—just to make sure she was safe and had a future. He’d set things in motion to ensure she had a chance to be the person she wanted to be, even if it meant not being able to stay in her life.

He’d watched her go, knowing that despite everything they shared, they could never be together. She was on her own now, and Steve had to let her go. His duty, his responsibilities, and the life he led as Captain America had always come first. But that didn’t stop him from caring for her, or from wondering what might have been, if only circumstances were different.

As the plane took off, [Y/N] looked out the window, leaving behind the life that had almost consumed her. Steve’s name echoed in her heart, but she knew she couldn’t look back. She had to keep moving forward. She had her own life to live now, and she would make it count. For him.

She was heading down a different path now, one of independence, of freedom. He had made sure she had the support she needed, and as much as he wished things had turned out differently, he knew he had to let her go.

Later, as Steve stood in the hallway, his hand on the door to his room, he took one last deep breath. He thought of [Y/N], of the way her eyes had sparkled in the fading light of the sun, of the way her smile had broken his heart. He thought of fading tattoo, of the Mustang and the promise of freedom she had now, and the one thing he had given her—something simple but meaningful: a wedding ring.

It wasn’t his first choice. It wasn’t even his second. It was the one he should’ve given Peggy, the one he carried with him for years as a reminder of what could have been. But now, it had found its way to [Y/N]—the woman who had made him feel something more than duty, more than responsibility. He couldn’t keep carrying it, couldn’t keep living in the shadow of his past. He had to let go.

The ring was a relic. It didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that, for once, he had lived in the moment.

For Steve, it was the kind of love that burned brightly—intense, fleeting, and beautiful. Like an American wedding, it brimmed with promise, a celebration of what could be. But some things, no matter how luminous, aren’t meant to endure. And maybe that was okay. Because even in its brevity, it left something lasting—a healing fragment of her, etched into his once broken heart, immune to the passage of time.

And like an American divorce, it became a love story confined to memories—bittersweet and unfinished. They both knew it could never be more, but the echoes of it lingered, quietly shaping the man he would become.

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[imthebadguyyy]

Iron Hearts

With the same fire and charm that runs in the Stark bloodline, you’ve never been one to fade into the background.

pairing : steve rogers x reader fandom : mcu synopsis : As Tony Stark’s younger sister, you’ve always shared his brilliance and bold personality. Outgoing, witty, and never afraid to speak your mind, you’re just as comfortable stealing the spotlight as your brother is. But when Tony ropes you into joining the Avengers' operations after the Chitauri invasion, the last thing you expect is to clash with Captain America, Steve Rogers—a man so different from the fast-paced world you’re used to. Steve’s stoic, old-fashioned values collide with your free-spirited nature, sparking a connection that’s as electric as it is infuriating. As the Avengers face new threats, you and Steve find yourselves drawn together in unexpected ways, each challenge bringing you closer. The world is always in need of saving—but will the Iron legacy and a shielded heart leave room for something more?

EPISODE 1 : COLLIDE

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The low hum of machinery filled your private lab, a familiar and soothing backdrop to the glow of various monitors and the holographic interface suspended above your desk. You were in your element here—surrounded by sleek gadgets, circuits, and blueprints only you understood. The soft, sterile light of the fluorescent bulbs bathed everything in a cool hue, making the outside world feel distant, almost irrelevant. Your hands moved with practiced precision, making the final tweaks to your latest invention—something sleek, cutting-edge, and powerful. It was not for public eyes, least of all Tony’s. Let him bask in the glory of his Iron Man suits and his public heroism. You preferred working in the shadows, away from the spotlight. After all, the real power came from the things people didn’t see.

Just as you were about to run another test, FRIDAY’s calm, computerized voice broke the silence. “Incoming call—Tony Stark.”

You let out a small, exasperated sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Of course Tony would interrupt now, just when you were getting into the groove. Without breaking your stride, you gestured toward the nearest screen, signaling FRIDAY to patch the call through.

Tony’s face flickered to life on the screen, his usual cocky grin already plastered across his face. He looked annoyingly well-rested for someone who constantly threw himself into world-saving chaos.

“Hey, sis. Got a minute?” His tone was casual, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Tony always had an ulterior motive.

“Not for you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched with a slight smile. You’d perfected the art of giving Tony a hard time over the years. “What do you need, Tony?”

“Can’t a brother call to check on his favorite sibling?” He leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “We both know I’m your only sibling.”

“Touché,” he admitted, chuckling softly. "But seriously, I need you."

You froze momentarily, your hand hovering over the interface. Tony rarely outright asked for help, and when he did, you knew it was big. Slowly, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave him your full attention.

“I need my secret weapon,” Tony added, his voice dropping to that tone he used when he really wanted something.

You blinked at him, skeptical. “Secret weapon? Tony, I’m not about to be your backup tech support.”

Tony grinned, undeterred by your resistance. "This isn’t just tech support. It’s big. New team, new mission, bigger stakes. And who better to help me keep this bunch in line than you?"

You hesitated, glancing at the half-finished prototype on your desk. For years, you’d operated under the radar, happy to let Tony soak up the limelight. Being his sister came with a certain level of scrutiny you’d avoided like the plague. You preferred the quiet. The idea of stepping into the Avengers' world—especially now—seemed chaotic at best.

“I’m not suiting up, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you finally said, narrowing your eyes at him. The last thing you needed was to get dragged into one of his world-saving escapades in some shiny new armor.

“Of course not,” Tony grinned, though there was a playful glimmer in his eyes that told you he wasn’t ruling anything out entirely. “Just come to the Tower, meet the team. If you hate it, you can go back to hiding in your lab and pretending you’re not a genius like me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the thought lingered. A new team? A new mission? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. If things went south, you could always disappear back into the shadows. But something in Tony’s tone hinted at urgency, something serious brewing on the horizon. He wasn’t just calling for fun. He needed you.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed off from the desk. “Fine. But this better not be some ploy to get me into an Iron suit.”

Tony’s smirk widened. “No promises.”

The call ended with a flicker of the screen, and you were left standing in the soft hum of your lab, the weight of Tony’s request hanging in the air. You glanced at your half-finished prototype one last time before grabbing your jacket, muttering under your breath, “What have I gotten myself into?”

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Later, at Avengers Tower, you stepped into the grand lobby, the space sprawling before you like something out of a futuristic movie. Towering glass walls reflected the sunlight, creating a dazzling effect that made the entire room shimmer. High-tech displays blinked with data and notifications, while sleek metallic accents added to the modernity. It was a world apart from your cozy lab, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how Tony had truly outdone himself with this place. The grandeur was impressive, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, a sense of unease settling in as you stepped further inside.

Just as you took another step, a voice sliced through the air behind you, cool and assessing. “So you’re the sister Tony doesn’t like to talk about.”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding slightly at the sight of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his muscular frame radiating authority. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was an edge to it—a mix of skepticism and something akin to wariness. He looked you up and down, his gaze critical, and you could already sense the judgment simmering beneath the surface. He thought you were just another Stark, another piece in Tony’s ego-driven game.

“And you’re the soldier out of time,” you replied, matching his coolness with your own. The words felt sharper than you intended, a defensive instinct kicking in. “Nice to meet you.”

Steve offered a tight nod, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t smile. “Tony’s told me a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope,” you shot back, a hint of a smirk dancing on your lips. But Steve’s expression remained unyielding, the weight of his gaze unwavering.

“I’m not here to judge,” he stated, but his eyes bore into you, steady and measuring, as if he were trying to peel back layers of your identity with sheer will alone. “Just here to see if you’re serious.”

“Serious?” You scoffed, your heart racing with indignation. “About what?”

“About helping, about doing what’s right. We’ve got enough egos on this team.”

Your smirk faded, replaced by a flash of frustration. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know your brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Tony,” you retorted, your voice sharper than you intended. The tension between you crackled in the air, palpable and thick. You hated the feeling of being judged before someone even bothered to know you, and clearly, Steve didn’t like the idea of another Stark stepping into the fold.

For a moment, silence engulfed you, and you could almost hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. The intensity of Steve’s gaze felt like a spotlight, and you wondered if he could see through your facade, exposing the vulnerabilities you kept hidden. You could sense his protective instincts flaring, the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, and somehow, you felt like an outsider even though you were family.

Just as the tension threatened to spiral further, Tony strolled into the room, an air of nonchalance enveloping him. “Hey, you two! Getting along already?” His grin was impossibly wide, brightening the atmosphere even as it made the air around you feel heavier with unresolved tension.

You shot Tony a glare that could’ve cut through steel. This was not the time for his usual bravado. Steve merely shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to contain a smile. “We’ll see,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes still fixed on you, as if he were weighing the likelihood of your success in this new venture. Then, with a final, assessing glance, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, frustration simmering just below the surface.

“Great. This is off to a fantastic start,” you muttered under your breath, a mixture of annoyance and apprehension churning inside you. The day had barely begun, and already you could feel the weight of expectation bearing down on you. As the lobby buzzed with the energy of heroes and high-tech innovation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope, teetering between proving yourself and succumbing to the shadows that felt all too familiar.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, reminding yourself that you were here to help. No matter what Steve Rogers thought, you had your own strengths, your own path to carve in this world. You just had to figure out how to make them see that.

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The air in the war room was thick with tension as Tony briefed you on the mission, his voice crisp and urgent. “So here’s the deal: leftover Chitauri tech has been activated by HYDRA operatives in the city. It’s supposed to be a routine clean-up mission, but we know better than to underestimate anything HYDRA gets their hands on.” His brow furrowed, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach knot.

You listened intently, nodding as he laid out the plan. But as he insisted you tag along—even if just to observe and assess—you felt a mix of excitement and dread. You weren’t officially part of the team, yet here you were, being dragged into the chaos by your brother’s unwavering belief in your abilities.

When you arrived at the scene, the streets were already in chaos. The sounds of sirens blared, drowning out the shouts of frantic civilians being evacuated. Smoke billowed into the air, curling around toppled cars and shattered glass. You felt a chill run down your spine as you surveyed the destruction.

Amid the chaos, Steve barked orders at the rest of the team, his authoritative voice cutting through the noise like a beacon of hope. You hung back, monitoring the situation from a mobile unit that Tony had rigged up for you—a lifeline of information in a storm of uncertainty.

“Stay behind the lines!” Steve called out to you over his shoulder, his tone firm as he and Natasha led the charge into the fray.

You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and determination bubbling inside you. "I know what I’m doing, Captain," you shot back, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The last thing you wanted was to be coddled like a helpless child.

Just as the fight erupted, the atmosphere shifted. A crackling energy surged through the air, and before you could process the threat, one of the HYDRA operatives unleashed a pulse from the Chitauri device. The wave of electricity shot toward you, a blinding flash of danger that sent adrenaline coursing through your veins.

In that split second, everything shifted. Time seemed to slow as you braced for impact, your instincts screaming at you to move, to do something—anything. But before you could react, Steve surged forward like a force of nature. He slammed his shield into the ground with a resounding thud, creating a barrier that absorbed the surge of energy before it could reach you.

You stumbled back, wide-eyed, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you like a tidal wave. Steve turned to you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. “I said stay behind,” he said, his voice clipped, but there was a hint of protectiveness that made your heart race.

“I had it under control,” you snapped back, though deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. You felt a surge of embarrassment rising within you, the remnants of the adrenaline making you defensive.

Steve didn’t argue further, but his gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to gauge the depths of your resolve. The moment stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, and you could sense a silent acknowledgment between you—this was new territory for both of you, a fragile thread connecting your destinies.

But as quickly as it had come, the moment shattered. With a final look that communicated both concern and determination, Steve charged back into the fray, his shield raised high as he fought against the chaos. You stood there, heart racing, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions—frustration, admiration, and a flicker of fear for what lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you refocused on the task at hand. You weren’t going to let this moment define you. You had to prove to yourself, and to Steve, that you belonged here—among heroes and legends. The fight was just beginning, and you were ready to carve your place in it.

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The mission concluded in a flurry of activity and relief, but the tension between you and Steve lingered in the air like an unresolved chord. Back at the Tower, you settled in front of the computer, the glow of the screen casting an almost ethereal light across your face as you replayed footage of the battle. Each frame brought back the chaos—the electricity crackling, the screams of civilians, and Steve’s shield slamming into the ground just in time to save you. The rush of adrenaline from earlier mixed with a more unsettling feeling as you examined the moment you almost lost everything.

As you scrolled through the footage, you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Steve; the weight of his gaze felt palpable, a steady warmth that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the battle you had just fought. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his silhouette framed by the soft light of the hallway, watching you with a quiet intensity.

“You handled yourself well out there,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere, cutting through the silence that surrounded you.

Surprised, you glanced up at him, momentarily meeting his gaze. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice a mix of pride and humility.

“But next time,” he continued, the firmness returning to his tone, “don’t make me have to save you.”

A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips, a spark of your trademark confidence flaring up in response. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t,” you shot back, your tone light, though beneath it was a current of seriousness.

Steve didn’t respond immediately, his expression shifting as he studied you. In his blue eyes, you caught a flicker of something deeper—perhaps a grudging respect, maybe even a hint of admiration. It made your heart flutter unexpectedly, a rush of warmth that was both thrilling and confusing. The Captain of America saw you, and for a moment, the weight of expectations from being Tony Stark's sister lifted, replaced by a connection that felt genuine.

He nodded once, a subtle acknowledgment of the moment shared between you, before turning to leave. As he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just another fleeting exchange. You were carving out your own space in this team, proving that you were more than just Tony’s sister—you were a force to be reckoned with in your own right.

Left alone in the dim light of the lab, you turned back to the screen, but your thoughts were no longer on the footage. Instead, your mind lingered on Steve’s quiet strength, his unwavering resolve. You were beginning to understand that there was more to him than just the Captain—the man behind the shield had his own battles, his own vulnerabilities.

And you felt an undeniable pull towards him, a sense of camaraderie that was slowly transforming into something deeper. The mission had ended, but the journey was just beginning, and you were more determined than ever to prove yourself—not just to Steve, but to the entire team.

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The mission had been a success, but the moment Steve saw you—Tony’s sister—standing there, he felt the weight of responsibility tugging at his heart. He knew you had potential; he’d seen you handle yourself with surprising skill, but he wasn’t prepared for how much the little spark in your eyes got under his skin.

Leaning against the doorway, he watched you replay the footage of the battle. You were focused, your brow furrowed in concentration, and it captivated him. You radiated a unique blend of confidence and determination, much like your brother, yet with a warmth that was distinctly your own.

When he finally spoke, telling you that you handled yourself well out there, he truly meant it. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a mix of admiration and wariness wash over him. You were Tony’s sister—his little sister. He recalled the stories Tony had told him about your childhood, the sibling rivalry, and how fiercely protective Tony had always been of you. That instinct felt like a wall between them, even as he felt drawn to you.

“Don’t make me have to save you,” he warned, hoping to impress upon you the importance of caution. He had seen too many people underestimate their enemies, and he didn’t want you to be another victim of that recklessness.

Your response—light and teasing—pulled a small smile from him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t.” It was infuriating how effortlessly you seemed to deflect his concern. You had a spark that reminded him of Tony, but there was something more disarming about you. Something that made it hard for him to maintain his composure.

He nodded, more to himself than to you, before he turned to leave. He didn’t want to admit how much your presence affected him, how he found you attractive in a way that made him question everything he knew about focusing on the mission. But he also understood that getting involved with Tony’s sister could complicate things—complicate his already tangled life.

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As the days turned into weeks, you became a more permanent fixture in the Tower, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic team dynamic. Watching you interact with the others was eye-opening. You had Tony’s quick wit, but there was a warmth in your approach that brought out the best in everyone.

He remembered a moment during a team meeting when Clint made a joke at your expense. Without missing a beat, you shot back, “If you’re going to insult me, at least make it clever.” The room erupted in laughter, and Steve found himself chuckling along, secretly impressed by your tenacity.

But the more time he spent with you, the more he struggled with his feelings. You were intelligent, fiercely capable, and incredibly brave—qualities he admired. Yet every time he looked at you, he felt the ghost of Tony’s protective nature hovering over them. He could practically hear Tony warning him to keep his distance, reminding him that you were off-limits. It was a mental tug-of-war, and every glance between them only heightened his awareness of how close they were getting.

One evening, you both worked late in the lab. He caught you watching him as he threw punches at a training dummy, a curious smile dancing on your lips. It was a moment of connection, but it also made his heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew you were trouble, yet there was something about you that drew him in, like a moth to a flame.

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a/n : so this is new series im experimenting with!! not proofread. any comments tips suggestions you have would be highly appreciated. happy reading!!

TAGS

all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove@bluesongbird-blog

marvel -

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[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quote

Bucky: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Y/n: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Natasha: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it.

Steve: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Tony: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and got a really bad burn.

Peter: …

Peter: I have emotional scars.

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Coming out to Marvel Characters

A/N: Happy Pride! Reader's orientation/identity is ambiguous, as is your relationship with the characters :) Masterlist

Steve: Telling him is a little intimidating considering the time he’s from, but truthfully you could of told him back in the 30s and even then he would of accepted you -albeit with more anxiety over your safety. He’s open minded for his time, and he has in spades the kind of compassion you need after bearing your heart and soul like that. 

Tony: He’s a dickhead more often than not, but he gets that this is a rare time not to be. He’s quiet for a moment, processing, and then he’s nonchalant. He acknowledges what you said as sensitively as he can but he also doesn’t linger on it. He accepts who you are, but to him it’s not a moment to get sappy over, it’s as casual as he thinks lending someone basic human decency should be.

Thor: He forgets for a minute that this can be a big deal to earthlings, queerness as you call it is a lot more normalised on Asguard.Then he remembers, and trying to be supportive -albeit a little clumsily- he pats your back and commends the courage it must of taken to tell him, assuring you you have his wholehearted acceptance.

Natasha: Look, as perceptive as she is, there’s no way she hasn’t already known for months. She’s just been too respectful to say anything. When you do finally tell her she feigns just a bit of surprise for your benefit, then she’s very casual about the whole thing. She’s accepting but in a quiet way, she’s one to show her support subtly as it naturally comes up.

Wanda: She doesn’t have the most in depth lgbtqia+ education or anything but she wholeheartedly supports the community. So, between that and her being the compassionate person she is, she’s very easy to tell. She’s so understanding and sensitive to your feelings, and honestly she’s just really touched that you trusted her enough to tell her.

Peter P: It really does come as a surprise, just because he’s usually so preoccupied with his own secret that he doesn’t often think about what other people might be hiding. He adjusts right away though, he’s always considerate to your comfort and now is no exception. He’s so sweet, he’s just happy you told him and asking the most thoughtful questions.

Carol: Though she’s also from a more close-minded time, she’s a little less intimidating to tell. For one thing, she’s spent her life since then around a diverse range of space cultures, and for another, she kind of has her own… vibe. And yeah, you were right not to worry, she doesn’t exactly overreact but she’s very obvious in her support.

Bucky: He is surprised, but also curious. When you spend most your life in the 30s and the rest in captivity you don’t learn how to respond to someone coming out to you (at least not in a way he ever would) but he doesn’t do too bad, he clearly isn’t bothered. Actually you coming out sparks his interest in the matter and inspires him to educate himself on queerness in the 21st century.

Yelena: As another queer person, she thinks it’s great, her eyes actually light up as you tell her. Honestly, she’s kind of hoping that you have more experience with things like pride and community than she does because she could really use some guidance, but even if not it’s still nice just to know she has someone who’s like her in her life and hopes that you feel the same way.

Loki: He couldn’t be less fazed if you told him your star sign, frankly. He is quick though, he can see this is important to you. So, wanting you to feel validated he asks some polite follow up questions, he’s happy to let you vent if you want, he’ll even offer some insight as someone a lot more at home in his queer identity if you need it. Plus, the best thing about telling him is that he’s definitely down to …handle… any bigots you’re dealing with.

Valkyrie: She’ll drink to that. Really, she thinks it’s nice, she’s supportive without making a big deal out of it. Though she’s queer herself, she wouldn’t think to offer any advice on the matter because well… she’s kind of a mess, but if you need someone to talk to she’s not a bad listener.

Kate: Despite what an adorably awkward motormouth she can be at times, she’s actually pretty chill about this. She does rush to reassure you that she’s fine with it, especially if you seem nervous, but she’s otherwise relaxed and lets you do most of the talking. It’s not that big of a shock to her really, it’s not like she’s never met other queer people before.

Peter Q: To be for real, most of what her knows about queer people comes from outdated stereotypes, relics from his childhood, and there was probably a time when coming out to him really would of sucked because of that, but he’s matured a lot since then so he takes this in with an open mind and responds with surprising sensitivity and kindness, at least by his standards.

Gamora: She’s been through planets more or less accepting of queerness so she gets the gist, but with how shut-off she’s been you’re still the first (out) queer person she’s known well. You wouldn’t know that though, because she responds very calmly to you coming out and she’s very easy to talk to about it.

Drax: He does not get the big deal. He doesn’t even get what homophobia / transphobia is really, and yet he still manages to say something totally offensive (albeit completely unintentionally) when you come out to him -which he later apologises for. Of course he accepts you, it’s not even a question, and after that first slip up he does make it a point to try and be more respectful …to mixed results.

Groot: He is Groot.

Rocket: He’s not respectful per se, because he never is, but he takes it fine. With all the crazy stuff he’s seen, you’re really not making headlines. He doesn’t know how to communicate it, but he’s sympathetic to the more alienating parts of your experience, especially to bigotry you faced, and he’s the quickest to defend you if ever needed.

[soldierrcore]

The New Recruit.

wanda maximoff x male reader.

no warnings.

Steve placed a reassuring hand on the new recruit's shoulder. "Alright everybody, this is Y/N. He's joining us as our newest Avenger."

Y/N nervously surveyed the group of seasoned superheroes, a whirlwind of excitement and anxiety coursing through him. Joining the Avengers had been a lifelong dream, now startlingly real.

"So, Y/N, what are your powers?" Natasha inquired, stepping closer.

"I-I can read minds and teleport, ma'am," Y/N stuttered, suddenly self-conscious about his abilities.

A striking brunette approached him, capturing his attention. "I can read minds too; maybe I can offer some tips?" she offered warmly.

"Sure," Y/N replied gratefully, glad for someone he could relate to in the group. She smiled softly.

"I'm Wanda, by the way."

"Pretty name," Y/N smiled back, feeling a spark of attraction.

"Oh god, the hopeless flirting," Tony sighed dramatically, tossing his head back.

Wanda shot him a withering glare. "Shut up, Tony."

Y/N blushed slightly, embarrassed by Tony's teasing. "Well, I'm going to go unpack. Nice meeting you guys."

With that, he headed to his room, unpacked, showered, and settled into bed, eventually drifting off into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Y/N awoke to the sound of his alarm. After dressing, he made his way to the kitchen where Wanda was at the stove, preparing breakfast.

"Good morning," Y/N greeted her warmly.

"Hi Y/N. Did you sleep okay?" Wanda asked with a warm smile.

"Yeah, I did. You?" Y/N replied, feeling a growing comfort around her.

"I slept better than usual, surprisingly," Wanda chuckled softly, flipping an egg in the pan.

"That's good to hear," Y/N said, leaning against the counter. "Thanks for making breakfast."

Wanda glanced at him with a playful smirk. "Well, we can't have our newest Avenger fainting from hunger on his first day, can we?"

Y/N laughed, appreciating her light-heartedness. "Definitely not. I appreciate it, Wanda."

As Wanda finished plating the eggs, she set her plate on the table and motioned for Y/N to join her. "Sit down, Y/N. Grab some food before it gets cold."

Y/N obeyed, sitting across from her. He took a bite of the eggs and nodded approvingly. "These are really good, Wanda. Thanks again."

Wanda smiled warmly. "You're welcome. It's nice to have someone else in the kitchen who appreciates good food."

"Absolutely," Y/N agreed, enjoying the easy banter. "So, what's it like, being an Avenger? I mean, before I got here, it all seemed so... surreal."

Wanda paused thoughtfully, then met his gaze. "It can be overwhelming at times, especially when you realize the weight of what we do. But having a team like this, it's like having a family who understands. You'll get used to it, Y/N."

Y/N nodded, feeling reassured by her words. "I'm looking forward to it, especially with people like you around."

Wanda's cheeks tinted slightly pink, but she smiled warmly at him. "I'm glad you're here, Y/N."

Encouraged by her response, Y/N felt emboldened to express his feelings. "Wanda, I know it's only been a short time, but... I really enjoy being around you. You make me feel... comfortable."

Wanda's expression softened, her eyes meeting his with sincerity. "I feel the same way, Y/N."

Without hesitation, Y/N leaned closer, their faces inches apart. "Can I...?"

Wanda's reply was a gentle nod, her breath mingling with his as they closed the distance between them in a tender kiss. It felt like a natural extension of the connection they had forged in just a short time.

When they finally pulled away, Wanda's hand found his, fingers intertwining. She stood up, tugging him gently towards the elevator. "Come on, let's show the others what we can do together."

Y/N smiled, heart racing with excitement for both their abilities and this new chapter unfolding with Wanda by his side. "Lead the way, Wanda."

[regulus-cannot-swim]

Steve: You know you can die from that, right?

Y/n: *smoking a cigerette* that's the point

Tony: *drinking alcohal* We're trying to speed it up

Peter: *eating raw cookie dough* (nodding aggressively)

[ashadash0904]

Doing my part to report one porn add every day till it's all gone 🫡

[inthemomentth0ughts]

Does anyone ever read fan fiction about a platonic relationship, specifically about one of your favorite characters being a brother figure?

Is it just because you’d want to have them as a brother?

Or is it because you don’t have a brother or just not one you is like the ones you can read about.

In most of them I see him as a protector, he’s comforting you in the dead of night and by your side the second you need help.

Maybe he’s a superhero choosing to save you before anyone.

Maybe he’s a usually harsh, grumpy man but only to everyone but you, his precious sibling.

Disclaimer: You don’t have to agree or even feel the same way. I hope it helps some people put their feelings into words but it’s personal to everyone and not always a universal experience. This is just personal thoughts and in no way blaming anyone.

[yandere-wishes]

Normal person: " Whose your favorite Disney prince?"

Me: "Oh, you know the usual..Tony Stark,Darth Maul, Steve Rogers, Anakin Skywalker, Thor Odinson, Kylo Ren, Bucky Barnes, Luke Skywalker, Loki Odinson,Din Djarin"

Them: Those aren't really Disney Princes...

Me: Did I stutter??

[ao3topshipsbracket]

AO3 Top Relationships Bracket- Round 2 Side 2

This poll is a celebration of fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

OKAY OKAY OKAY-

WATCHING LOVE IS BLIND RN AND WHAT IF I WRITE A MCU ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WHY CHOOSE FIC SERIES WHERE READER IS IN A DATING SHOW FOR SUPERHEROES/MUTANTS???

Like names/abilities/affiliations would not be revealed until the end (when you make your choice)!

Who would we like to participate as contestants???

[pascalsummers]

Hey, could you please write Marvel men with a bf that likes to knit/crochet?

A/N: Here you go! Sorry this took so long I am trying my best to get back into the groove of things so hopefully I can post more stuff soon. Enjoy!

-

You Like to Knit and Crochet (Avengers x Male Reader)

BUCKY

Bucky wouldn't have much of a reaction to it but he would find it to be an interesting hobby to have. While Bucky wouldn't admit it out loud he really likes it when you make sweaters for him. The thought of you taking all that time and effort into making something for someone like him gives him a warm feeling in his chest. Whenever he is relaxing in the tower you can usually find him wearing one of the sweaters you made him. Eventually, you offered to teach Bucky how to knit and crochet. Bucky was actually able to pick it up quickly and while he doesn't do it in his free time he will sometimes join you whenever you are working on something.

STEVE

Steve was impressed by your knitting and crocheting skills especially since it seemed so time-consuming. He would generally accept anything you give him but Steve does tend to like your handmade sweaters and socks the most. He especially likes it when you add little designs to them but he will playfully roll his eyes if you add anything American flag-themed to them. Over time Steve would get curious enough and ask you if you wouldn't mind teaching him something. Steve would have a little bit of a struggle in the beginning but he would eventually get the hang of it. Steve would give you some knitted socks as a present and a thank you for the ones you made him.

THOR

Thor would think it was a nice hobby as some of it would remind him of how some people in Asgard would make their tapestries. One day Thor noticed you had made a crochet bee and was curious if you could make a snake for him. Thor loves it when you present him with another crocheted or knitted animal and he will make sure to show off your creation to the other Avengers. Thor was very honored when you offered to teach him how to knit and crochet. Despite Thor's enthusiasm to learn it was apparent that Thor wasn't that good at it as his creations tended to turn out lopsided and incomplete in places.

TONY

When Tony first heard about your hobby Tony made sure to add senior citizen jokes to his conversations with you. While Tony was appreciative of your gifts to him they didn't really fit his style. Usually, you can find the scarfs and hats you make for him on a couple of his suits in the lab. Despite his seemingly dismissive attitude about them, he does genuinely like them and if you really want to he will wear some of them on occasion. Tony turned down your offer to teach him multiple times but eventually you wore him down enough to give it a try. Tony after some time actually wasn't too bad at it but he would tell you it's not his thing plus it makes him feel old.

LOKI

Loki wouldn't react too much to the discovery but he would comment on your skill at doing such a task. When you first presented Loki with a scarf you made for him he was taken aback and didn't really know how to react to it besides a subdued thank you. Loki can be seen wearing the scarf from time to time which lets you know that he does appreciate the gift even if he would never say it out loud. Loki would be a little reluctant to try out knitting and crocheting but would decide to try it out at least once. After a little bit of time, Loki would actually get the hang of it pretty quickly but he wouldn't do it often since it doesn't interest him that much.

BRUCE

Bruce would be a little curious about your hobby and would ask you some small questions about it from time to time. Bruce tends to appreciate anything that you give him but the one gift you gave him that he holds close to his heart is a blanket you made for him. When he first saw it he was taken aback by it and gave you a genuine thank you for the gift. Bruce will usually bring the cover out for the two of you to lie under whenever you watch TV together. Bruce would actually be the first one to ask about you teaching him and while he may not be the best he does get a pretty decent grasp at it. The two of you will sometimes knit and crochet together to relax.

[miserable-sarah]

I Hate You.

18+

Pairings: Bucky x Reader Warnings: TW: Crash (Jet), language, shooting, fighting, mentions of smut, implied sex, mentions of blood. Summary: You and Bucky are stuck on a mission together. (enemies to lovers)

~

"Wanda and Vision, Nat and Clint, Bucky and Y/n" You hear a loud groan that cuts Tony off. He shoots a look at Bucky before continuing "Steve and Sam, Bruce you're here with me. I will fly out if needed and only if we absolutely need Hulk he will be there." Tony looks around and claps his hands together "Any questions?"

"Uh yeah" You raise your hand "Why am I with metal arm?" you nod your head towards Bucky, he rolls his eyes at you.

"She's going to get me killed" Bucky mumbles, you laugh.

"No, you'll get me killed. You are so impulsive. You don't care if you die-"

"Enough!" Steve cuts you off. You look at him and sigh. "We have our assignments now follow them" He says sternly looking between you and Bucky. You and Bucky both look at each other, he gives you a dirty look and leaves the room taking the report. You stand up and put your hand to your forhead

"Yes captain" you sarcastically say before leaving.

"Tony why would you put those two together?" Wanda asks sincerely worried.

"They actually work well together" He shrugs.

"We'll see" Wanda huffs.

~

You get on the jet because you see Bucky get on. He gets everything ready and you sit in the back with the report. It's an easy mission. Shut down a factory, make sure no weapons leave the area.

"Seems easy enough" You mumble yourself. You look at Bucky who is just focused on driving. Bucky bothers you, he was mean to you as soon as you 'joined' the avengers. He never took the time to meet you or even talk to you, he always rolled his eyes at you, and you have no idea why. Why does he have to be such a prick.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer" Bucky scoffs at you walking by. Your eyes widen and you look away. You hold up the report even though you already read it. Bucky sits across from you, you can feel him staring, you open your mouth to mock Bucky and say the same thing he did to you but he stops you. "You really have to go over that again?" He chuckles.

"No." You say and put it down. You cross your legs and stare at him. "I'll get the south entrance" you say

"No, you get the roof." He says leaning back in his chair never taking his eyes off you.

"No, you get the roof. I get south side. I'm faster" He scoffs at you.

"You're faster" He laughs "I'm faster, I'm a better shot, I'm just better." He smiles at you, his ego is so big you're surprised his head isn't exploding.

"Right." you roll your eyes. "I'll take the roof." You just agree not wanting to fight with Bucky. He stands up and pats you on the head.

"Good girl" He smiles going back to the front of the ship. You sigh heavily trying not to freak the fuck out. Why would he pat your head. It instantly pissed you off.

"I hate you." Bucky shoots you a glare. his eyebrows furrow.

"I hate you." He spits back.

You decide to let it go and just stay calm and focus on the mission. After a while of flying, you and Bucky fly over the site you need to shut down. You go to the front and sit in the seat ready to land. You look over the mountains and see armed missiles pointed right at you.

"James!" You yell frantic, worry laces your voice.

"I know" Bucky says trying to maneuver the jet so it doesn't get hit. One of the wings gets hit and a whole bunch of sirens go off. "We're going down hard. Hold on to something." You grip the arm of your chair. Bucky takes your hand, your other wing gets hit. You both look into each other's eyes. The jet hits, you watch as Bucky flings around in his seat. It feels like everything is in slow motion, you feel your body being tugged in all different directions.

~ You wake up to Bucky shaking you.

"Y/n, get up. Y/n we have to go." He helps you up and you just stare at him confused. He groans out loud and picks you up holding bridal style, he runs with you taking cover. You can't hear right everything is muffled. You can see Bucky's mouth moving but you can't understand him. You hear muffled shots so you know something is shooting at you. You point to your ears.

"I-I" You stutter shaking your head. You see Bucky close his eyes and shake his head. You know he's pissed, he points to the sky. You look up and see jets flying. Fuck, the ones you need to shoot down. You nod your head at him, he tries to hold you back but you escape his grip. You run getting the attention of the jets, there's two of them. You draw out a plan in your head. You need to get to the building. Bucky will have time to get in without being chased.

You get in the building untuched, which you're thankful for. You sneak behind large wooden crates. You look at your wrist to see if your mic is still on, it is.

"2 men in the North, I got 2 I'll take down. Should be more somewhere." You say quietly, you're not sure if Bucky can hear you or not." You see a metal arm and a man goes down. You shake your head and smile. The other two, your two go after him. You trip them and fight them until they can't move. You're not big on killing people. You look at Bucky, he holds up the explosive, you sigh in relief. He points to his ears you shake your head no, still not able to hear anything. He points to the roof and you nod, he tosses you one of the explosives. You get up to the roof and plant it.

"Planted. Set them off." You say jumping off the roof taking cover. You watch the building waiting. You start to get worried. You stand up and go towards the building, it explodes. OF COURSE. You get flown back, the same ringing in your ears intensifies. You hold your head and scream. You feel yourself being lifted, you look up. It's Bucky.

"It's okay" you read his lips. You can't believe Bucky is being so caring, you would've taken for the type to just leave for dead. You kind of get what Steve sees in him now. You look around your body trying to see if you see any visible wounds. You're feeling really weak and don't know why.

"Bucky, I'm getting tired" You say weakly. Your arms drop from his neck.

"It's okay, you're okay" You read his lips. Fuck something must be wrong. You bring your hand up to your head, it's bleeding.

"Is it bad?" You ask, he closes his eyes tight and nods. "Dying, bad?"

"No!" He has tears in his eyes. You sigh, damnit this was supposed to be the last mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. you wanted to live a normal life after this, only get called when absolutely needed. You close your eyes and let a tear fall. Bucky slaps your cheek, making you open your eyes. "No" He shakes his head.

"Bucky, it's okay" he looks at you confused. "I can't stay awake. It's okay." you say softly. You reach up and touch his face. "Thank you" You smile. He's still running, you don't know where. He says something but you can't hear. He has tears in his eyes, you fade to black.

~ You wake up in a bed. You wince as soon as you try to sit up. You touch your head it's wrapped.

"James?" You call out. Bucky comes around the corner.

"Hi" He smiles

"I can hear you!" You smile. He smiles back.

"That's great" He sits on the bed. "You're going to be okay, like I said" He laughs. Flashbacks to you almost dying flood your mind. The crash, the explosion.

"Oh" you look at him "What happened?"

"I took you somewhere to heal."

"Why?" you ask "I thought you hated me" you chuckle.

"Please" he looks away "I don't hate you. I never have."

"Then why are you always so mad?"

"Honestly?"

"Well, that would be the best idea" You joke.

"That's why" He looks at you "You are so sunshine and rainbows all the time. It irks me because I'm so dark. I wish I could be happy like that."

"I'm not sunshine and rainbows, I make jokes out of serious situations so people don't go dark, Bucky. This job is hard, this job will ruin you and I refuse to let it get to me."

"I wish I could do that." He sighs

"You can. Trust me it's not all dark in there." You smile putting a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for saving me Bucky." you lean over and kiss his cheek. He blushes and looks down.

"You know" You say leaning back in the bed "I always thought you were so hot, but such a dick" you smile at him. He laughs at you.

"See, how do you do that" He lightly hits your leg. You smile at him and shrug, a comfortable silence falls.

"So, hot huh?" He looks at you, you laugh.

"Yeah, hot" you smirk.

"Good to know" Bucky stands up walking out of the room you're in. You bite your lip trying to hide your smile. You can't believe this is happening right now.

~ weeks after ~

You and Bucky were finally found, rescued by the avengers.

"So this is it?" Bucky leans up against your door frame. You just finished packing your bags.

"Yeah" You exhale. "I'll be called in only if I am 100% needed. Other than that, I'll be living my life."

"You're just going to leave me?"

"Bucky, I asked you to come with me. You want to stay, I can't anymore."

"Am I ever going to see you again?" He comes closer to you, you can smell him.

"Whenever you want."

"Because you're mine right?" He asks seducive. His hands rub up and down your shoulders.

"Yes" Your lips ghost his. Flashbacks of Bucky holding you down on the bed, fucking you so hard you can't even think straight, Bucky telling you, your his and only his. You agree saying that you're only his. The way he felt, the way he was.

"I'm going to miss you." He says in your ear kissing your neck.

"I'm going to miss you too." He looks you in the eyes and pulls you in for a deep kiss. You groan into the kiss. "Don't keep me waiting long" You smirk at him, "You know where to find me." He nods his head at you. He walks you downstairs where everyone was to send you off.

Everyone said their goodbyes and gave you hugs.

"No offense but I hope I don't have to see you guys for a long time. And if I do it better be for something good."

"Like your wedding" Tony fake coughs. You laugh at him.

"Sure." You roll your eyes. "Thank you. All of you." You smile at them one last time, your eyes go directly to Bucky. He smirks at you nodding his head. You walk out the door and close it behind you. It takes you a moment before you could move down to the taxi waiting for you.

You get to your new place, hidden in the mountains. You place your bags down in the living room. You walk up the stairs to the bedroom Bucky first kissed you, where Bucky first told you he loved you. Where you told him he was hot. You smile to yourself and sit on the bed.

"Hey" You open your eyes wide.

"James?" You ask confused "Why, what are you doing here?"

"You said not to keep you waiting long." He jokes, dropping his bag on the floor.

"Are you-"

"Yeah if you'll have me" He smiles at you. You smile wide pulling him for a kiss.

"I love you." You smile resting your forehead on his

"I love you."

[pixiexdusts-world]

Incorrect quote

Tony: Y/n... How do I begin to explain Y/n?

Bucky: Y/n is flawless.

Natasha: I hear their hair's insured for $10,000.

Steve: I hear they do car commercials... in Japan.

Peter: One time they punched me in the face... it was awesome.

[unholyhelbig]

I for one would not mind more werewolf kate

Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [6/?]

Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.

Trigger warnings: Hunting, the actual werewolf transformation, restraints (hands, legs, neck), bloody & Gore, pet names, let me know if I've forgotten anything pls.

[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six]

[A/n: I was really fucking sad when I wrote this, and for that, I apoloigize. This isn't a gentle chapter, so please read with caution. And as always, I did not proof read].

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts

A rot of leaves coated the forest floor, filling your lungs with an unsettling pungent scent. The world had blurred edges, somehow caving in on itself with each passing second. The trees whizzed past you, an ache that once covered your entire being had ebbed away the faster you ran.

There was such an intoxicating scent that led you blindly. It was floral and sweet and screamed above all the deteriorating vegetation. You’d run so far, so fast and without hesitation. What was that? You needed to sink your teeth into it, to taste it. You would simply die if you didn’t.

It was a girl. Yes. A girl.

She was running too, but not nearly with enough speed as you. She stumbled over fallen logs and branches dug into her skin. They created gashes of dripping red that made you salivate. She was cornered against a fence, fingers curling around the chain link.

You regarded her, taking a moment to register the hot pain in your chest. How far had you followed her? It was ways from home, you knew that much, but none of that seemed to matter. No- because she was right in front of you, and she was captivating.

In your excitement, you took a careful step forward and a small noise escaped her throat. Her eyes were frantic as she took in your hulking and animalistic stature. She was afraid, and part of you was too. Something had led you to her, to this sadistic chase that had cornered you both.

Her blood tasted sweet just like her scent. Your teeth crushed bone, tore through tendons with such a simple ease.

She was yours.

Sweat had soaked through your sheets and clung to your bare legs, even as you shot up and pulled in a helping of air. Your skin buzzed as if it were set ablaze with fever.  The waning moon cast a sickly pale light against the room. Your heart pounded ruthlessly against your chest.

That dream had left you antsy, and horrified. You never remembered your dreams but this one was vivid, almost like it was a memory. The coppery taste made your mouth dry. You were restless, wide awake despite the red numbers on the clock indicating that it was just past 3:00am.

You couldn’t hear anything through the walls that had been doubled down in strength despite your enhanced senses. The house was as good as silent, though you figured it statistically impossible for everyone to be asleep.

The hallway was dark compared to your room, filled with moonlight. You padded a few steps before you stopped in front of Kate’s door. It pained you to be here, begging for some type of comfort. The dream had left you rattled. Afraid.

It was getting closer to the full moon and your thoughts had been plagued with the pain that you’d read about so diligently. Scanning the inked words on a yellowing page was nothing compared to the experience of it all.

Swallowing your pride, you knocked twice, knowing that she could hear you. It took Kate a few moments to untangle herself from her blankets. You could pick up on her stumbling her way across her room until she swung the door open.

The girl tried to be suave, giving you a tired smile as she leaned against her doorframe. Her hair was sleep-worn and springing in various directions. She wore a pair of boxers with little purple arrows against the fabric and a tank top that was riding up enough to expose the smooth expanse of her stomach.

“Hi,” You swallowed the dryness in your throat, pulling your eyes from her muscular frame. Her cheeks were blooming with a fond pinkness. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You didn’t want to admit that you were freezing, that the sweat you’d produced during the odd dream had dried taught against your skin. A shiver worked its way through you, and you crossed your arms over your midsection, trying to preserve what warmth you had left.

Kate lilted her head and stepped to the side without a second thought. She beaconed you into her room. The curtains were drawn, blocking out the light of the moon. Her comforter was drawn back, pillows scattered against her bed. She must have been engulfed in a deep and comfortable sleep, one that you had broken.

It helped, not being able to see the looming structure of the moon. It made you squirm, but the scent that engulfed you, the pure warmth of Kate’s mere presence, calmed your nerves. When she shut the door softly you knew that you were safe with her.

The wolf, that’s what Wanda had called it, knew what it wanted. She said that there was a blind trust that would flow through you with the girl that you’d crawled to and that feeling was only multiplying as the full moon got closer and closer.

“Don’t… say a word.” You turned to her, crossing your arms over your chest.

Despite your warning, she smiled wolfishly at you, lifting both of her hands with an innocent shrug. She looked adorably miffed by exhaustion, and that thought annoyed you more than anything. God, you really should hate her. But she looked so warm, so accepting and every inch of your body was howling for her skin against yours.

Kate settled back into bed and peeled back the duvet with an expectant look on her face. Why were you fighting her so hard? Clearly, you were tired. You’d knocked on her door and you hadn’t done that without reason. If you wanted conversation, you would have found Peter and interrupted his late night gaming.

Or maybe even Natasha who couldn’t sleep, just like you. But you did value your life, just a little bit. So Kate it was, a magnet that drew you in. The more exhausted you got, the harder it was to pull away. And really- she had been trying. Right?

Almost as if on instinct, you took her up on her offer and slid into the encompassing warmth of the duvet. There was the scent of lavender, of freshly washed sheets and the metallic breath that she drew in, almost as if she was just as shocked as you were at the action.

Kate cautiously lowered the blanket and the two of you stared at the little glowing stars on her ceiling. You hadn’t seen them since the fifth grade. America didn’t’ have the deep green celestial patterns, but instead a garden of pulsing orange and purple, and yellow flowers.

You could feel the heat of Kate’s shoulder close to yours. You were so cold, even under the blankets and she seemed like the only source of comfort from the dream that lingered so heavily on your mind.

“Do you think…”

The words died in your throat. She turned her head to face you, and after a few moments of building up the courage you turned your cheek against the pillow too, staring into a cloudy grey stare that was marred with sleep, pockmarked with questions.

“Will I ever be able to see them again?” your voice was pinched with emotion. It was fear, the both of you recognized it. Her eyes glossed over, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth to stop it from trembling. You felt emotion well up in your own chest. “I know things will never be normal again, but do you think there’s a chance?”

Kate swallowed the thickness in her throat, voice barely a whisper. “I do.”

You nodded and dislodged the tears that were fighting for dominance. Kate didn’t’ hesitate to reach up and wipe them away with her gentle touch. Her thumb was calloused, but soft. A whimper escaped you as you leaned into her touch. Kate shivered at the contact herself.

“I get why I’m here and I’m grateful for it. The last thing I want to do…” you trained off, listening to the shuttered sound of her breathing. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, ever.”

“You won’t, y/n.”

The immediacy of her statement brought you comfort. It wasn’t necessarily a reflex, but a belief that she felt deep in her core. You clenched your eyes shut and scooted closer until you felt the full effect of Kate’s presence.

The movements were gentle as you slotted yourself against her, hand laying on her stomach and moving over the softness of her shirt. She held her breath for a moment, instinctively wrapping her arm around you. You pressed your nose against the naïve of her neck, slick with tears of her own.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She quivered with guilt.

You were starting to understand, against your better judgement, why this had happened. Kate found you for a reason, and that tension, that discomfort, that was your wolf fighting for a way to get to her. And you had.

The tears that wet her shirt, the ones that coated your cheeks, they were those of relief. You curled into Kate, taking in her scent, the two of you gripping onto each other like a vice, eventually drifting towards a fitful sleep, shadowed by stars.

There was no such thing as privacy in a house with eleven people. Not when so many of them had a strict regimen of exercise, and healthy eating. There was a stark difference from life at the dorm where people rarely arose before twelve in the afternoon unless they had class, and even that was a gamble.

Instead, you stirred to the sound of a blender and the hushed voices of an indiscernible conversation. That was followed by a very discernible sound of a cell phone camera. Even without advanced hearing, you clocked it in moments.

A small groan escaped you. It was much too early to wake up. You had never been more comfortable in your life, your nose pressed flush against the crook of Kate’s neck. She shifted in her sleep, pulling you closer with an adorably tiny breath.

“Go away,” she grumbled, the words vibrating against your palm.

 You tightened your grip on the fabric of her shirt. God, it was so bright. They’d pulled the curtains back and the sun was in full force. Despite the comfort, there was no way you’d drift back into sleep. That fact alone was solidified when you bolted up at the clearing of someone’s throat.

An odd hurriedness shot through your spine, forehead knocking against Kate’s chin and leaving a throbbing spot in its wake. The girl that was under you let out another small noise at the back of her throat, rubbing her jaw while depriving the world of her stormy stare.

Natasha Romanoff leaned against the doorframe of Kate’s bedroom. Wanda had been very clear about the rank in the house, and it was of no shock to you that Natasha was pretty high up there. It was why her simple sound of alert had made your entire body tingle. You knew- your wolf knew- that she was in charge, and that she was there for you.

“I checked your room first,” She stated matter-of-factly. “Obviously, you weren’t there.”

Your cheeks reddened at the predicament you’d found yourself in, and the fact that you were sure you’d heard the click of a cell phone camera. It was almost like your parents walking in on a sleepover that got a little too cozy.

Kate sat up groggily, testing her jaw a few times, “Good morning, Nat. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“You can go back to sleep. I’m here for y/n. We’re going on a run.”

The wary look you got from the girl in bed next to you wasn’t exactly easing your nerves. She must have gone through this before, and she would truly object if she thought it was something you couldn’t handle. Instead, her hand found yours under the safety of the duvet and gave your fingers an encouraging squeeze.

You knew better than to object to Natasha, so you followed her orders and changed into the closest thing to workout clothes that you’d packed; a pair of royal blue gym shorts and a t-shirt that was from your last trip to the west coast. Sun, fun, and Sand.

She waited by the edge of the front yard, lifting a perfectly sculpted brow at the shirt, but didn’t say anything in acknowledgment. “We’ll do six miles up, and six miles back.”

“Up?” You squeaked out, finally earning a genuine grin from her. She started to jog ahead of you, and it took you a few moments to register that you were meant to follow her. “Back?”

The two of you kept a steady pace under the heavy hand of the sun. You felt sweat slick the back of your neck, legs screaming out in protest. You weren’t much of a runner, and had admittedly eaten one too many boxes of instant mac and cheese. But your body seemed to mold to the pace with no problem. Your muscles strained for just a moment before relaxing into he burn.

“I’m sure you’ve heard from everyone in the house how they handle a full moon.”

“No, actually,” You panted out, “everyone seems to be keeping their distance.”

“We haven’t had anyone new join our pack for years. Certainly, never this violently. Can you blame them?”

No, you really couldn’t’. They had all been so welcoming and understanding. Even Kate to a certain degree. None of that eased the fear and you figured it wouldn’t’ until you actually lived it, until every single bone in your body rebroke and reshaped until you were this insatiable creature that would seek nothing but blood and carnage. It was inside of you now, you felt it just below the surface, and that terrified you.

Your chest was beginning to burn viciously, but Natasha was showing no intention of slowing down. There was an odd need within you to please her, to make sure that you kept up with her pace despite how hard it was getting as the slight incline became a little less slight.

The woods had thickened around you both and you let out a relieved breath when she trotted to a stop on the dirt trail. The collar of your shirt was damp, and you pulled your arms behind your head to fill your lungs with more sticky air. Natasha smiled fondly at you.

“Kate tapped out about three miles back.”

“This some sort of test?” You asked, working your hand through your hair.

“A test, a tactic. Whatever you want to call it. Some of us believe that if you wear yourself out before a transition, it’ll be less excruciating on the day.”

“I read about that the other day, though, they didn’t use the word excruciating.”

“That’s what it is. Don’t let anyone sugar coat it for you, kid. It’s going to hurt and you’re going to feel every second of it.”

You plopped down on a fallen log, pressing your fingertips to your temples. You clenched your eyes shut and felt your heartbeat pulse through your entire body. Never in a million years would you figure you’d be here. Natasha’s scent strengthened when she gave your shoulder a squeeze, prompting your eyes to open.

She was rimmed in the early morning sun, ringlets of russet hair fell over her shoulders. “Come on, I didn’t make you run all the way out here for the hell of it. I want to show you something.”

Before you could object, she started down the path again, this time in a brisk walk. You let out a groan and hauled yourself off the log. When you got to where she had been, you saw nothing but a thick wall of greenery and wood. Natasha was nowhere in sight.

You closed your eyes and tried to pick up the scent of her, the detergent and the lavender and the sandalwood. Upon your second inhale, you picked up in a general direction and frowned. This was all too surreal, you were physically sniffing out a near-stranger that had led you deep into the woods.

Still, you felt a blind trust as you went off the path and continued to track her down. She was about thirty feet into the woods, standing over a pile of leaves, arms crossed over her chest. You felt yourself warm at the proud half-smile she gave you.

When you reached her, Natasha knelt and pushed back the mix of muck and leaves. It revealed two metal doors that reminded you of a summer you spent with your aunt in Alabama. It was unbelievably hot and muggy, and they had a storm shelter that was carved from the earth, the walls damp and stocked with different canned food, though you had never seen a can opener. You didn’t think to bring it up as the two of you huddled close and listened to the howling wind and rain.

“This was a long-game murder plot all along, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not into the long-game.”

Her words weren’t exactly encouraging. The hinges of the doors screamed loudly from disuse and a musty scent washed cruelly over the both of you. Your nose scrunched and Natasha grimaced but didn’t say a word. An automatic light buzzed on, allowing you to see the opened space below.

It was exactly like the storm cellar, and it’s cool interior was a brief solace from the heat of the day. There was a divide a few steps into the space, a steel wall with a door in the center, sloppily welded but with enough strength to stop a beast the size of a mid-sized Sudan.

This door creaked too, and Natasha let it linger open for a moment, staring softly at you, and then back at the room. There was safety in her stance. You knew that she had the full ability to slam it shut and lock you in, but had a deep realization that she wouldn’t.

Another light was on the ceiling, casting a circle of deep yellow. There was a deep smell of dust and dirt, but there was something hard and metallic under that. Your eyes darted to the chains that were attached to the wall, large iron things that were screwed into extra support.

More than that, were the stretching claw marks that pockmarked the walls. They went deep, past the dirt and into the cement. The pads of your fingers ran over the one closest to you. Each mark stretched further than your touch. Chills shot up to your elbow, a breath lodging itself into your throat.

Your other hand clenched your stomach, digging into your ribs. Something significant had happened here. Several significant things. Tears started to form against your eyes and the worst part was, you had no idea why.

“Those are Steves,” she said quietly, joining you within the confines of the cell, lifting her chin to another set of marks. “And Tonys.”

There were dozens of markings, all different shapes and sizes. Some were digging into the clay walls, and the floors. There were distinct scent markings on each one and you found yourself able to identify ones that belonged to Yelena, and Peter, and even Bruce. They’d all changed here at least once.

Natasha crossed the room and shifted the door until it was only slightly ajar. You straightened up, heart pulling against your throat. The door was minced with deep slashes. You shoved your hands into your pockets to keep them from trembling. They almost ached.

“You feel something, don’t you?”

Words didn’t form, couldn’t. You couldn’t pinpoint the emotion that tore through you. It was akin to longing, but it was more than that. It was like the creature that was so restless within you wanted nothing more than to claw its way out and find the person who had made those marks. They were desperate and sad, and horrifying.

You closed the distance between them and pressed your touch against the deep gashes and fought back a pained cry. You dug your teeth into the back of your free hand to quell it, but a pathetic sound still escaped you.  

“Kate knew that something was wrong a few months before she escaped. She was experienced, knew as much as one could know about their wolf. But there was an unrest”

“She doesn’t like places like this.”

Your words were small. You remembered what she had told you, about how she had turned the first time alone and, in a room very similar to this one. You got the stark impression that she would never want to do something like that again. So, it begs the question of why these marks were so fresh. So fearful.

“No, she doesn’t. They scare her, make her panic before the moon has any effect. But she was conscious enough to know that if she wasn’t here, then she would end up hurting someone. It just proved not to be strong enough of a failsafe.”

Kate had felt an unrest weeks, maybe months, before she had escaped and sunk her teeth into your flesh. A wash of guilt pulled at you. You’d been giving her such a hard time, pestering her and fighting her every step of the way. She’d been in immense pain.

When the pads of your fingers touched the scratches, you felt only a fraction of the longing she must have. Grimacing, you turned away, crossing your arms over your stomach to shield you from the reality of your harshness.

You needed Kate.

“Is this where I’ll be tonight?” You asked, so softly Natasha almost didn’t’ hear it.

She nodded in response, the silence mulling between you both. A small breath escaped you, pained and held within your lungs for an abnormal amount of time. You crossed the room, picked up one of the leaden chains and weighed it against your own strength.

“I can be here with you, if you’d like.” Natasha said, filling the quiet “Or if you’d rather Steve… Wanda.”

You turned to face her, grip tightening on the chain. “Kate?”

“Kate.”

Her eyes were no longer shrouded in their silver, sullen beauty. As the sun began its descent, there was a strange tangerine glow that overtook them. It started at the center of her pupil, small whisps of neon color, and then started to ebb into the confines of her iris.  

You focused on them. If you thought too much about the days leading up to this transformation, then you would work yourself into a panic. You were taking things one at a time today, and that included jogging back to the compound and shyly admitting to Kate that she was the only one you wished to have in your vicinity tonight.

Though, you hadn’t thought much about the logistics. The two of you trapped in a single cell. Yelena had walked all the way out here, keeping a silent eye on the tension that lingered against both of your frames. It wore your stance down, mind racing with the ‘what if’s’.

“Once I close this door, neither of you will be released until daybreak.” Her thick accent carried a sharp edge to it that made this finite. “There is an emergency radio, Kate knows where it is.”

They’d thought of everything, really. Yelena had handed over a sheathe of needles and a small vile that you knew had to be tranquilizer. It smelled acidic and nitrate in nature. Even your rational, human side, cringed away from it.

With a final nod that conveyed good luck, and a strong, ‘I’m rooting for you,’ Yelena exited the cell and slammed the metal door behind her. From there, she retreated, and another lock was put into place after she’d slithered a coil of chain around the outside doors. Your heart picked-up it’s pace, never one for confined spaces.

Kate seemed to hear the uptake and closed the distance between the both of you. One hand found your waist and you allowed her to give it a reassuring squeeze. The other cupped your cheek, guiding your stare. “Hey, listen to me. I know this is scary, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You believed her partially because you had no other choice. Her eyes were mostly orange now, glowing enough to cast a strange shadow against her face. You wondered dumbly if yours would do the same. Something was boiling inside of you, making your entire body sweat. It felt like you were in a sauna, breathing in the hot steam after water was poured listlessly over black coals.

“I’ll talk you through everything, until neither of us can talk. Then we won’t have to.”

“Okay, alright. That sounds good.”

She nodded at you and began to unzip her sweatshirt until the teeth of the zipper released their hold. She was wearing a black sports bra and matching bike shorts, stretchy material that hadn’t set her back too much financially. They would be torn to shreds by the end of the night, regardless.

Kate’s stomach was toned. It was tanned and showed all the stamina of a beast. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long, tried to ignore the small trail of hair that dipped below her waistband. Despite herself, Kate smiled at you cockily, but moved her hands to your own jacket.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed the dry metal taste in your mouth. “I don’t think my fingers will cooperate right now.”

 She let out a small noise in response and pulled your jacket from your shoulders, leaving you in much of the same. She’d promised earlier that the two of you would go out and get clothes that you were more comfortable in, but this suited you just fine. Her pupils dilated, rushing them in more sherbet color. A stuttered breath escaping her and fanning against your bare collarbone.

“What? Oh my god, is it starting?”

You didn’t feel any different, still extremely hot to the touch and a little riled up after getting a look at Kate’s mostly-bare form. Color petaled her cheeks. She was actually blushing. Even in the dim lighting of the cell, that much was clear.

“No, no. You’re just…” She shook her head, trying to clear it “really beautiful, is all.”

“Oh,”

More blush, her eyes slipping down to the floor. “Yeah. I should probably get you secured, though. It’ll be more comfortable to sit.”

You understood exactly what she meant. Your heart was thrumming through your entire body at the compliment, though you both welcomed the distraction of a task. This task was securing locks around your wrists, and your ankles. Large iron things that could stop a lion. They were bolted into cement, digging into the foundation.

You kept your back against the damp wall, allowing Kate to fiddle with the mass of restraints. She fastened the first cuff on your wrist and looked at you expectantly. “Is this too tight? We want it to be a little loose. You’ll fill out when the transformation is done.”

“It’s alright,”

Kate diligently fastened the other three; one more around your opposite wrist, and two around your ankles. The only thing left was a chain that was intended to click smugly around your throat. She stared at it warily, eyes meeting yours.

“This one isn’t comfortable, and after tonight, you won’t need it.” She stated, using her hand to brush a stray hair from your eyes. Something was coiling in your stomach now, an unrest. A parasite that seemed to want to bubble out of your chest. “Your body will be in fight or flight mode. All of your senses will be heightened more than they are now and you’ll want to get out of these.”

“And if I do?”

“If you do, you’ll have to go through me.”

She fastened the chain around your neck, listening for the heady click. Just like the others, she adjusted and pulled on it until she was satisfied with your capture. A slight noise pushed past your lips. It felt like you had a stomachache, a cramping that would send you straight to a heating pad on any other day.

“I know, baby.” She soothed, the pet name slipping past her. She frowned, then lightened her stare. “I know it hurts. I’m right here. I’m with you.”

Her words soothed you. She backed up and sat cross-legged in front of you. There was an admiration of her control. Sweat prickled against her upper lip and at her hairline. It was an indication that you weren’t alone in this. Though, Kate Bishop had more practice, pain was eternal.

“You said I’d have to go through you,” your words were trembling. It took a few moments to force them into existence, but Kate was patient. Your legs and arms were starting to ache, just a dull thrum that reminded you of destroying your muscles to wick them back together again. “What… did you mean?”

Kate smiled and you swore her teeth were pointed at the end. Your vison was starting to blur, and you blinked away tears that dripped from your chin. “We’re not going to fight, or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I think our wolves- well, I think they’ll get along just fine.”

“Kate Bishop, are you insinuating something?”

“Me? No. Never.”

She let out a grunt, her hand going to her ribcage. There was a dull pop that jolted through her body and you clenched your eyes shut for a moment. Not wanting to see her in pain. Not wanting to see what was next for you.

You didn’t have to wait long. The pressure started to build in your forearm first, a tight pain that shot from your fingers all the way to your elbow. Almost as if your bone was straining against itself, and it was. The crack and splinter of it threw you off your balance with a dizzying amount of discomfort.

A scream tore through your throat, toes digging into the soft, damp floor. Kate let out another grunt of discomfort, dropping her elbow to the ground. Her chest was heaving, pulling air in greedily before releasing as if she never wanted it in the first place. Her efforts were punctuated by a deep and primal growl that took you back to the night in the forest.

All of your limbs were tightening now, two pops from your ribs and an extra one in your ankle. You were doubled over in a blind torment. Your cheek was pressed to the ground, the scent of dirt filling your senses. There was blood here too, so thick and potent that it was if it gurgled against your own tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you thought you heard her through your own strangled cries of pain. Her voice deep and words miffed by the growing teeth pressing against her gums. “I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck!” You cried out, the last bit of human semblance you could form. Your own words were minced with agonizing cries and a rumble from the center of your chest that sounded anything but human. It was feral. It was hungry.

Your vison pulsed around the edges, darkness creeping in. You shakily lifted your hand, watched as your flesh became shrouded with gore. It was shredded, dark gray fur sprouting over your knuckles as your skin fell away entirely. Once human nails had been replaced by claws, dripping with your own blood and muscle tissue.

They shined as if you had been baptized once more. Teeth- your own teeth, filled your mouth as they were pushed out to welcome new ones. You’d spit them to the ground, relished in the sweet taste of the blood that filled your mouth, only for you to spit again.

There was a howl, one distant that made your entire body stiffen under its command. You weren’t wailing anymore, and neither was Kate. The two of you had silenced, breathed hard and tried to find your bearings. Your collarbone widened, seemed to stretch like the rest of you. The restraints were tightening as you grew. As you changed.

Another howl cut through the air, this time you had the urge to answer with one of your own. At least, that was the last humane thought you had, before everything went black.