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tharros-auris-black-asimi · 3 years ago

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We Walk The Line

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Summary: Instead of Steve Rogers becoming Captain America, someone took his place. Steve Rogers became the infamous Hydra Stomper and fell off of the train with his best pal (and secret lover), James Buchanan Barnes.

You never thought you'd ever become Captain America.

You also never thought about losing the only two loves of your life.

But now, in the present, all three of you are reunited.

Except... you've been keeping them at arm's length.

Steve and Bucky just want all three of you to be happy again.

Warnings: Canon divergence, dark themes, threesome (F-M-M), angst everywhere, a little bit of murder, slight allusions to Dark!Steve and Dark!Bucky, lots of angst, mutual pining, shower sex, double vaginal penetration, spitroasting

Additional Notes: Hello! This was a doc I found in my drafts, lol. I originally wrote a good chunk of this, but then I moved on to different projects. However, last night I found this in the deep depths of my laptop, and I finished it tonight. So, there we are! I hope you all enjoy this little tale!

As always, if you’d like to read this fic on my AO3, you can do so here.

Word Count: 11824

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Clint Barton knew deep in his gut, that something was wrong. Even though the blond Avenger was deaf and needed hearing aids. It didn’t mean he was ashamed of being deaf at all. His family and the love of his life had learned ASL for him.

Most of them, anyway. Thor was still trying. But the blond Asgardian got a pass since he was rarely on Earth, or what Asgard called Midgard anyway.

It also didn’t mean that his other four senses weren’t working. Only, they felt as if they were enhanced. Because that deep feeling in his gut was telling him that something was about to go very wrong.

Or something sus was going on.

To be quite honest, he was sorta leaning on the second option.

He wasn’t quite ready to discover aliens trying to take over the planet again.

Nope.

Noooooo.

No, he was not.

Night had fallen through the Compound. Everyone was mostly asleep. Including Natasha. Who was still asleep against him, her hair splayed over his bare chest. Careful to not wake her, Clint slowly and quietly got up. Getting his hearing aids from where they were charging on the little nightstand on his side of the bed. He slipped them in his ears, hearing the beep. Signaling that they were on, he pulled a shirt and sweatpants on and quietly slipped out of the room.

As he walked down the quiet halls of the Compound, he saw two familiar supersoldiers walking toward him.

Dressed in their tac suits that looked a little bit dirty with streaks of mud, were both Steven Grant Rogers and James Buchanan Barnes.

The blond-haired Avenger waved at the golden-haired and chestnut-haired men in a friendly greeting. Steve and Bucky wore expressions of relief when the three men slipped into the kitchen. Bucky opened the fridge to pull out some orange juice.

“The mission go okay?” Clint asked the two of them. Steve nodded.

“We nearly got caught in an explosion, but nothing we couldn’t handle,” Steve replied to him. Nodding to the other supersoldier as Bucky slid him a glass of orange juice, Clint took a gulp.

“Ross is coming by tomorrow.”

Both Steve and Bucky scowled.

The Avengers as a whole didn’t really like Thaddeus Ross.

Bucky, Steve, and Cap especially.

Clint knew the leader of the Avengers didn’t like authority. They didn’t like pushovers. And after what happened with Hydra back in 2014, they detested the government even more.

With everything that had happened with the almost Chitauri invasion in 2012, he knew Cap wasn’t looking towards another physical appearance that wasn’t saving the world. But, as superheroes and people who protected the world, sacrifices had to be made. You could never get anything you always wanted in life.

Bucky and Steve didn’t like Ross because the man had basically demanded that the two of them were going to be locked up after the bombing of the UN. Mostly because Prince T’Challa had been angry, lashing out due to the grief of losing his father. Erik Killmonger, T’Challa’s cousin, had quietly advised him to keep his cool. And that was after the Avengers broke out the two former Winter Soldiers. And after Cap sent a very nice punch in the face to Ross that was deserved. Their words, not Clint’s. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t agree with that statement.

This would be against the law, but Clint wouldn’t be lying if he also knew wholeheartedly that Captain America would never resist the chance of punching power-hungry and corrupt Senators in the face.

Plus, they were great for viral TikTok and Instagram videos. And Twitter threads.

Not so much for the news though.

Fox News nearly had a stroke the first time.

And the second time.

Clint was fully convinced the Avengers were just full-on trolling them by now. He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. He loved making Fox News have a stroke anyway.

Any day. Any time. Anywhere. He would do it in a heartbeat.

Steve and Bucky had already given Fox News a field day when they had explicitly kissed on live TV. The rest of the Avengers thought it had been hilarious.

Speaking of Cap, he knew that they were currently on a mission. They would come home early tomorrow. Until then, all of the other Avengers would see the two former Winter Soldiers brooding and being sad.

As usual.

“Not again,” groaned Bucky. “Doll couldn’t even hold it in the last time he was here. Didn’t she try and punch him in the face?”

Deep sighs that came from Steve and Clint proved his point.

“Yeah,” sighed Clint. “And then before she left, she was talking about how she didn’t want to be here tomorrow. But she will. In the morning. Ross is coming in the afternoon. Talking about that stupid gala we have to attend later this week.”

Grumbles came from Bucky and Steve unhappily.

They had hated galas. They hated being the center of attention. To be around senators and being forced to “play nice”, as Natasha put it. The former redheaded assassin and her younger sister, Yelena Belova, always remarked that the two were always so grumpy. It always amused her when they stood there, stiff as statues while everyone else mingled and had a good time.

Bucky swore to himself that he would get both of his former students to stop teasing him. One way or another.

But for now, the unsettling feeling of them knowing that they would have to attend another gala, once again, made them very unhappy.

“I hate going to those,” Bucky mumbled unhappily. Steve grumbled in agreement. Disdain was written all over their faces. Clint just let out a sigh. “Yeah, well, join the club. Nobody really thinks you’re a liability anymore, so no one’s gonna need to be afraid or extra cautious for the two of you suddenly snapping and going cuckoo cuckoo. Just don’t bring out the pew pews and everything should be good.”

Clint suddenly smirked. Steve and Bucky knew that meant the blond archer was up to no good again. “Sides’,” shrugged Clint, still looking gleeful. “We all know how good Cap looks in her dresses. Tony just makes her look fancy cause she’s the face of us, remember? Don’t tell Cap I told you, but her dress is gonna be a dark blue. Kinda like your old Howling Commando suit, James. You know— the one from way back in the day? That one?”

Oh did Bucky remember.

He remembered it quite well. He didn’t even need to go and catch a plane to DC to the Smithsonian to peep a glance to know what his former uniform looked like.

“… And Tony’s probably going to convince her to wear red lipstick because of good ole patriotism and all…” Clint continued on, rolling his eyes. Even putting air quotes around ‘patriotism.’

“Thank God Colonel Phillips didn’t make her do those damn tours.”

“Only because she was a woman. Colonel Phillips didn’t think that the world would take her seriously if the entire world knew that Captain America was a woman. If it was me, he would’ve made me do those tours.” said Steve quietly. Bucky’s jaw clenched.

“Gotta love the misogyny of the good ole forties, amirite Stevie?” Bucky spat out sarcastically. Steve nodded his head sarcastically. Clearly agreeing with his boyfriend.

“Well, this is where you disappeared off too, Clint?”

Three heads turned to see who was in the kitchen. Natalia Romanov-Barton or Natasha Romanoff-Barton as everyone knew her in the States, with her red hair hastily tied up in a ponytail and a nightgown slipped over her figure and slippers adorning her feet, she stood in the archway of the kitchen. Her arms crossed over her stomach.

She had known something had been wrong when she had heard her husband getting up. A disturbance in the Force, one could say. And when she heard someone opening the fridge door, she knew it wasn’t Sam.

Because she knew Sam wouldn’t be up at this time of day. She knew for a fact that the other Avenger would be dead asleep in his room.

Wanda shared a room with Vision, who really didn’t need all that much sleep, considering he wasn’t human. But the Android enjoyed being in bed with his significant other, so that was that. And, Natasha knew that Wanda was still on a mission with Cap. So Natasha knew the redheaded mutant wasn’t home.

And Pietro, Wanda’s older brother would also be dead asleep. Just like Sam.

So that ruled him out too.

Tony though?

Tony could have been in the kitchen. That could have been a possibility. But she then had heard a soft thudding noise coming from Tony’s workshop, so she knew it couldn’t have been Tony when she had been padding her way down the hall to the kitchen.

Rhodey was off sleeping too. So he was certainly out of the question.

And besides, she had caught a whiff of someone deeply unpleasant. A really nasty smell that reeked of someone that hadn’t showered in a while.

Sounding a deep voice that reminded her of Yasha, she just knew.

Yasha and Steve were home.

Never ever, would she ever forget Yasha’s voice. It was like something you couldn’t wash out of your memory, no matter how hard you could try to. You just couldn’t.

So it didn’t surprise her when she had found Steve, Bucky, and Clint all huddling around in the kitchen drinking orange juice at three in the morning.

It really didn’t.

She expected nothing less from the Three Stooges.

“Tash, I thought you would’ve still been asleep.” Clint groaned in Russian. Natasha just raised an eyebrow. “No.” was all she said. Steve and Bucky just looked amused. “Oh… she’s not here yet? Great, we’re going to see you two mope until tomorrow afternoon. That’ll just go down great with Ross.”

Now Steve and Bucky were scowling again.

“Please don’t mention that name under this roof. It gives us stress, Natalia,” Bucky sighed. Natasha just gave her old teacher a look that basically said, really?

“Whatever, Yasha. I’m going back to bed. You three should too. Although—” Natasha wrinkled her nose. “...you two should shower before sleeping. Seriously. You two are going to stink up this place faster than Thor and Loki bringing that disgusting Space Egg over here last week. And you know how badly that thing stunk.”

At the aforementioned space egg, Clint, Steve, and Bucky all scowled.

That damn stupid space egg was going to be the fucking bane of their existence.

Meanwhile, on the Avengers Quinjet, with you, Sharon Carter, Maria Hill, Melinda May, and Wanda Maximoff that following morning…

“What about Dave from Accounting? He seems nice. Or maybe Mark from Statistics?”

Sharon Carter or Agent 13 as everyone from SHIELD had known her, looked at her companion who was sitting next to her. She gazed at the Stealth Suit, the dark navy blue, complete with the two white stripes and star embedded on her chest. The suit hugged her broad shoulders and beefy stature, which wasn’t really a clash with her French tip nails that she had got done weeks before that were still in good shape, nor was a clash with her hair that was currently tied up.

You hadn’t even had time to get your shield off of your back. It was still there. Secured. It pressed into the seat as you leaned back, closing your eyes a little. Wanda had fallen asleep hours ago, so Maria Hill and Melinda May were currently manning the ship from up front.

“Dave from Accounting measures all of his shit before he eats it. Remember that one time we were in the cafeteria? And he brought out his salad? And then he brought out his notepad and his measuring cups and started measuring his food, not to mention he was counting everything on it, and even wrote down how many calories were in it? He’s a health freak, Sharon. Not to mention, he spends like four hours washing and cleaning his car. If anything, he should just clean cars for a living. That’ll give him good money. Could pay him more than working at the Compound. Plus, it would make great YouTube videos. You know how popular car cleaning videos are these days.”

“He just likes being through!” Sharon tried to protest, to no avail. Because you didn’t look all that impressed. “Mmmm… he’s a bit too uptight for me. I like my partner a little bit on the wilder side. He’d be too boring for me. What’s Mark from Statistics gotta offer me?”

“Well,” started Sharon, “Mark’s really nice. He’s in contact with his family a lot. Family guy, you could say. Doesn’t spend forever measuring and counting everything and anything on his plate, so that should be a plus for you.” A considering noise came from you. That sounded nice. You could work with that, right?

“But,” Sharon paused, so she could see your head cock to the side in concern. “But?” you drawled.

“I heard from Katie from HR that he’s got a dick piercing.”

Both of your eyebrows rose up. Another considering noise came from you that turned into one of concern. “But isn’t that dangerous though? Like, what if we’re fucking and it gets caught in my vagina? And I have to go down to Medical for that? Or even the ER? Can you imagine the headlines for those things? How embarrassing would that be?” You questioned before you yourself shuddered at the very thought.

“Very embarrassing,” Sharon nodded in agreement with you. Although she expressed a snort when seeing you shudder.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Too many worries,” you remarked lightly. Taking your water bottle out of your backpack that you had carried along with you for the mission, you uncapped it and took a gulp of your water before screwing the cap back on and putting it beside you. “Besides, Mark and Dave— they’re not supersoldiers, right? They’re just plain ol, normal dudes?”

At Sharon’s nod, your lips curled into a frown.

“Nah. Then it can’t work. You know I’m enhanced, right? Like everything’s enhanced. That includes my sex drive.”

“No one needed to know that!” Maria shouted from the front.

“Well, no one asked for your commentary, Maria!” You shouted from the back in response. Melinda cackled from where she was in the co-pilot seat, making you roll your eyes in slight annoyance.

As if that was going to make things any better.

“So like… on average… like let’s just say, scale from one to… thirty, how many rounds can you go before you need to stop?” Sharon asked, curious.

“Thirty, huh? Broad number. That’s nice. Other women usually ask around one to twelve. Which, I guess they’re sorta close.” You shrugged. “Fifteen rounds.”

Melinda nearly spat out her water from where she was up front.

“Holy Jesus Christ on a stick!” Sharon exclaimed. You just shrugged again, still leaning back in your seat. “I mean, it’s not bad. Although I gotta tell you, Sharon, that’s why I’ve been struggling to find a good partner in bed. Nobody’s really a supersoldier like me. No one can keep up, really. Or worse, what if I end up hurting them too? That’s always something to think about, right? What if I get too excited? Or what if I end up breaking their dick? Those things we need to take into consideration, Sharon.” You told her seriously.

And they were genuine concerns.

Very genuine, important concerns of yours. Before the serum, you didn’t have to worry about breaking a guy’s dick, or worry that if you squeezed them too hard, you’d break a bone or something. Or worse, even a rib, if you weren’t careful enough.

Maybe breaking a rib was a little bit of a stretch, but hey— it was something to consider.

“So why don’t you just sleep with Steve and Bucky?”

“Please,” Maria’s voice floated from the front. “You know how stingy they are. I walked by their room one time, and they were still fighting and arguing over who should top. You know how aggressive they are. If they can’t decide who’s gonna top, what makes you think they’re gonna decide who takes turns fucking our good ole Cap?”

You thanked every lucky star in the damn galaxy that you weren’t drinking water at that exact moment because if you had, you would’ve spat it out all over Sharon. And you didn’t want to get Sharon wet.

When the Avengers had outgrown the Tower and Wanda and her older twin Pietro had joined the Avengers and the team had moved upstate to build the Compound, the first thing on Tony’s list was to make the bedrooms supersoldier proof. Like everything from top to bottom. Even the rooms were supersoldier hearing proof. Although, and you would never tell Tony this, but that one time you had walked past Steve and Bucky’s room, you had heard Bucky softly moaning Steve’s name under his breath.

Despite the so-called supersoldier soundproof rooms.

But you would never tell Tony that.

You didn’t want to hurt his ego even more than everyone else did on a regular basis. In good spirit, of course. Tony staying humble was everything’s number one top priority.

“Yeah, and it wasn’t like they could properly choose who would top back in the day either. Plus, the three of us just lived in that one-bedroom apartment. Just the three of us.” You couldn’t help but find yourself sinking into deeper, past memories. You still remembered being in the middle of Bucky and Steve. Bucky curled up at your side as he snored in his sleep. Steve, with that dim lamp that the three of you had nicked from the street on that wooden little desk next to your bed. Heard the scratches of his pencil against his sketchbook as he drew the three of you together, while you fell asleep to him drawing.

“… Do you miss them? Steve and Bucky?” Sharon’s voice brought you back. You blinked.

“Like… being with them? The old times?” you offered awkwardly. “Yeah… let’s start with that,” Sharon replied softly. “I mean… I would be lying if I said no. Because I do. I really do. Those times… I won’t ever be getting those times back. We had… plans. Plans to grow old together, I guess. Live together until we died, sort of thing. I got so terrified for them when Steve wanted to enlist, and then when Buck was drafted I… I really thought they weren’t going to come back. And then Project Rebirth happened and then I became Captain America, and…. you know the rest. I lost Jimmy. I lost Stevie.”

Your eyes drew down to the floor as you thought about it. Mulled over it.

So many years lost.

“Everyone always talks about… how empty they get when they lose their loved one. Or loved ones. But for me… Steve and Bucky were all I had left. Before I had the Avengers… all I had were Steve and Bucky. Even when I had no one… no one left in my family… I had Steve and Bucky. I can’t… I can’t explain how empty I felt when I lost them. They were my boys, Sharon. I loved them. I didn’t eat or sleep for weeks. Not till Morita dragged my ass out of the bed and forced me to eat a month after they had been gone.”

Your hands came to wipe away the incoming tear that was making its way down your face.

You remembered it like it was yesterday.

You had been flying the plane. Solo. You had been looking out at the sky, looking at the clouds. You had gotten Peggy on your earpiece, telling her that you needed to land the plane in the water, to go lower.

You had been headed towards New York.

You couldn’t wait any longer. If you had, people were going to die. You had taken out the little compass that you had gotten from Steve, flipping it open.

It was a picture of all three of you, smiling and laughing at the camera.

“Peggy, I’m sorry.”

“No.” Peggy hurriedly spoke your name, trying to protest.

“Hey, Pegs— I’m going to need a raincheck on that dance with you, okay? Bring your date. Okay?”

“Okay.” Peggy sniffed. “Eight o’clock, on the dot. Don’t be late.”

You could see it. The freezing water and all of the ice.

“Yeah. Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t be late.”

You still remembered Steve and Bucky’s words.

“We’re gonna take ya dancing, doll. Just the three of us. We’ll make it work.” Steve and Bucky had been beaming.

You closed your eyes.

Stevie. Buck. I’m coming.

And then darkness consumed your vision.

“… So yeah…” your voice was low, “I guess you could say there are things I regret, yeah.”

Sharon rubbed your arm in comfort.

“Cap, Agent Carter. One of you wake up Ms. Maximoff. We’re home.”

Later that day, in the afternoon...

“I’m telling you, Tony, for the last time— no.”

“I’m just saying Steve, it could be a good idea—”

“No, it wouldn’t, Tony. And you know it.”

Tony Stark crossed his arms. The Avengers, minus Wanda and you, were all huddled up in the conference room of the Avengers Compound, waiting for the devil incarnate himself, General Ross.

It was safe to say, that no one on the Avengers team quite liked the man.

Like at all.

If the Avengers had the choice between letting go of General Ross or eating ice cream, they’d choose the ice cream.

Steve had his arms crossed too. Bucky stood in the corner, looking every bit a stoic man. Clint and Vision were talking about something. Pietro was animatedly talking with them, even making gestures with his hands.

“Why? Why are llamas a bad idea, Steve? Huh?”

Steve expressed a sigh and his hand came up to pinch his nose in frustration. “Because they spit, Tony. llamas spit.”

“So?”

Steve just groaned in frustration.

“So, what? What do you mean, by so what? They spit, Tony! That should be enough for you not to buy them!” retorted Steve. To which, Tony just scoffed at him. “Yeah, and then what’ll the theme for the gala be, huh Rogers?”

“How about the forties?”

All conversation stopped. Sam Wilson, from where he was sitting at the table, got up and beamed.

“Hey!” The African-American announced in glee. “You’re back!”

You hadn’t had time to change from your stealth suit. Wanda had changed, though. Back to a sweater, jeans, and a pair of sneakers.

Both of you were extremely tired.

You were in dire need of a nap.

You were also extremely hungry.

And thirsty.

Briefly, you wondered if the conference room had any snacks. Usually, they did. Usually, Tony would stash the conference room with snacks. Lots and lots of snacks. Drinks too.

You hadn’t even had time to take your shield off of your back, either. It still was behind your back. Your hands reached from behind for your shield, pulling it off of you. The sound of your shield being taken off of your back caught everyone’s attention.

“Yup,” you even popped the p. “Tones, you got any snacks? Like nutter butters? I’m freaking starving.” You quite happily made your way to your seat, sliding into the rolling chair with a groan. Putting your shield on the table. You felt two hands brush over you.

Steve and Bucky.

You knew it was Steve and Bucky without even trying. Or looking to see who it was who touched you.

Because you didn’t allow just anyone to touch you. They had to be special. Like the Avengers.

Or Steve and Bucky.

“… Alright you two,” came Tony’s slightly annoyed tone. “Stop hogging Cap. We wanna say hi too.”

Both Steve and Bucky glared at him. Tony just rolled his eyes. Clearly used to their antics.

Catching a whiff of your smell, Sam recoiled back. “Nah, I’m good fam. You smell, girl.”

“Well, you try going to a building and saving people. I fought too many dudes. And then after that, try going to a freaking debriefing. And I haven’t eaten in like, twelve hours. I’m really hungry so—” Pietro slid a Nutter Butter to you. You sighed in relief as you opened the plastic, and you took a bite of your Nutter Butter. You sighed in bliss as you chewed.

With your mouth closed of course. You were upmost first, a lady. You knew your mother if she had still been alive, would have beat your ass with a sandal, a back scratcher, or anything your mother could have yeeted at you.

“Thanks, Pietro. Sides’ y’all know how moody Ross gets when not all of us are here, remember?”

Groans came from everyone at the table.

“… You just had to mention that…”

“Oh my god, don’t remind me…”

“That crazy son of a bitch needs to stop…”

As your fellow Avengers muttered and grumbled amongst themselves, Steve and Bucky’s hands fell into yours. For a moment, all of the conversations became white noise as you leaned into your rolley chair.

Quite happily you squeezed their hands. Signaling that you were here with them. That you were a okay.

Voice low, “Do you wanna go to that Chinese take-out place down the street?” Bucky’s voice was a low murmur in your ear. Making you shudder just the slightest bit. “We’ll get that one noodle dish you like,” Steve whispered in your ear softly, his breath tickling your neck.

Damn the two of them.

They were just so fucking convincing.

Just like how the two of them used to be back in the day.

“Mhmmmm… that sounds great, yeah… we can make it a date, if you'd like…” you were nodding with what they were saying. You were getting it. And it sounded great.

“Okay, and then we can—”

The sounds of the door opening stopped any and every conversation that was being spoken at the table.

Everyone stiffened when they saw who was at the door.

General Thaddeus Ross strolled into the room like he owned it. Your eyes followed him. Your eyes looked hard as ice as you watched him stand at the front of the room. Your chair swiveled around, so your entire body could be facing him.

“Captain.”

“General.” Your tone wasn’t friendly. But, it was civil.

Simply because the last time he had gotten you angry, you had punched him in the face. Steve and Bucky had to carry you out of the government building, all the while you had shouted in Russian. You probably called him a bitch too, but the memories were a little hazy.

Or maybe it was the fact that you had referred to his dick being the size of a Tic Tac? Maybe that had been it?

That had to have been it.

So you leaned back in your chair. Somehow still holding on to Steve and Bucky’s hands.

General Ross cleared his throat.

“So, as you all know, there is a gala net week. And we have decided on what the theme will be.”

“Hopefully not llamas,” Steve muttered underneath his breath so no one would hear, but you and Bucky had caught it. So had Natasha, which made you all the more confused.

What the actual hell?

llamas?

Just what the hell had you missed?

“After some decision making with the government, and due to Mister Rogers and Mister Barnes’ trial finishing…” Ross continued.

“Which nearly cost you your position, but yes, go on.” Pietro butted in loudly. You saw Ross’s cheeks color in embarrassment, or was it anger?

Either or, you didn’t know and didn’t really care.

Steve and Bucky’s grips on both of your hands tightened a little at the reminder.

Ross coughed and cleared his throat loudly.

“You should drink some water, Ross. Maybe it’ll help with the frog in your throat.” Tony suggested cheekily. That didn’t help Ross at all. His cheeks flushed even further.

“Just tell us the theme and the place please, General.” You sighed, already done with the day.

“The theme will be the forties. And the place will be the usual place just like last year.” Ross managed to say through gritted teeth.

Sounds of relief came from the room. Pietro got up, a pep in his step as he dashed out of the room, before smacking face-first against the door.

“… Open it first, Pietro,” Wanda sighed as she got up, and walked out of the room after her brother once he had actually opened the door.

When you let go of Steve and Bucky’s hands, they might have panicked a little.

“It’s okay,” you whispered to them. “I’m gonna go and freshen up. I smell.”

“We could always shower with you,” Steve, being the utter shit he was, suggested coyly. You spluttered in response.

“Uh-uh. No. No. Do not give me that face. Nu-uh.”

You were walking out of the conference room with Steve and Bucky hot on your heels.

“Come on doll, it would be fun!” Bucky suggested enthusiastically to you.

You, being you, made a noise. It sounded very alarming.

“No. My bathtub is way too small.”

“We’ll fit! Just like how we used to!” Steve was backing Bucky up. You just gave the two of them a look. “And risk breaking my bathtub? No, Steven! We are not breaking my bathtub with the three of us in it. We’re not… it’s not like before, okay? We’re supersoldiers now, okay? We could break shit without even trying. Remember the toaster for Thor’s Pop-Tarts that you broke the other day?”

Steve scowled.

“That was an accident,” Steve clarified. “Exactly!” You pointed out. “An accident! It had been an accident! That could also happen to my tub! I’m not risking it!”

Bucky spoke your name.

It made you stop.

Almost like you were a deer in headlights.

“We’re not going to break your tub, doll. We’ll be as gentle as possible, okay?” His words washed over you.

Bucky had always been a bit softer than Steve. Even when the three of you had been together back in Brooklyn, in the ye olden days, Steve had always been the one to punch first, ask later. And Bucky had always been the one to pull him out of shit.

Like now.

You still weren’t looking very happy.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But if you two break my frigging tub, you’re payin’ for it.”

That following week, on the night of the gala…

“Guys, I hate everything about this.”

Natasha and Wanda spared you a look.

It had been forever since you had put on anything forties related.

To your surprise, you still remembered how to put everything on though.

So there was that.

Putting on the navy blue dress had been like slipping into a second skin. Adjusting the sweetheart collar and making sure the buttons looked good, and brushing off any dust reminded you of all those times you had done it back in your day.

“The heels look terrifying,” was Wanda’s comment.

You just shrugged at her.

“Eeeh… not really.” You bent down to pick up the cream-colored pumps from the floor from where it was near your bed, giving you that nostalgic vibe from all those years ago. You slipped them on your feet, and you got up onto your feet.

You couldn’t help yourself. You twirled around once, twice. Happily hummed along to the Harry James Orchestra that was playing on your vinyl record. Tony had added some things from the forties to make the three supersoldiers feel like home. He had done it for you when you had moved into the Tower, and then for Steve and Bucky.

“My old man might’ve not been the best dad, but he talked about you guys a lot. Mostly about how nice it was to see three people in love on the field, and how it made him feel like he was at home. But he loved you. It’s only right that I do that the same.” Tony had told them once.

You couldn’t be more grateful. Tony had found the vinyl player at a vintage store and bought it immediately.

“… you know, I saw them in concert. With Steve and Bucky. We managed to get enough money so we could watch them live. It was nice.”

Bopping your feet to Kitty Kallen as you took the rolls out of your hair, so you could style them in the victory rolls from back in your day, Wanda let out a snicker. “Yeah?” She asked. “And how much were the tickets?”

You fluffed up your curls, chewing on your bottom lip that didn’t have lipstick on it yet.

“You know, I actually don’t remember that…” You trailed off, giving it a heavy thought. Grabbing your red lipstick, you twisted the bullet up, admiring the little vintage details on the cap.

“You should start wearing lipstick whenever we go into battle more often,” Natasha suggested cheekily. You just rolled your eyes. “That sounds very impractical. It’s like wearing a corset into battle. No thank you. I don’t want my lipstick smearing all over my face. Besides, I’ll be sweating too. If I wear a full face of makeup on, consider my mask ruined. It’ll sweat right off my face and my mask will get dirty. Uh-huh. I’m not risking that.”

Wanda’s muttered “I told you so” just made you snort once you finished applying your lipstick. Smacking your lips together, you put your lipstick down and took a step back, taking a second to look at yourself in the mirror.

It was as if you had gone back in time.

With Kitty Kallen crooning in the background, you almost felt… okay. If you tried hard enough, you could almost imagine yourself in the apartment you had shared with Steve and Bucky. You could almost hear your soft little giggles, Steve’s chuckling, and Bucky’s laughter when the three of you would snuggle together for bed.

Natasha put a hand on your shoulder.

“You should talk to them. Tonight. I’m sick and tired of Rogers and Yasha giving you puppy dog eyes from the other side of the Compound.”

As much as you wanted to tell Natasha that she was wrong, or that no, the boys didn’t give you puppy dog eyes and they do not practically follow you around like lost puppies— she had a point.

A really point. One that was really solid. Like a slap to the face point.

If there was anything you would never admit to, was that Natasha Romanov had a point. Most of the time.

Like right now.

God— sometimes you really wanted to loathe Natasha.

But, all things aside— she still had a fucking point.

Most unhappily, you grumbled something under your breath that had her rolling her eyes.

You didn’t even need to turn around to see Natasha smirking at you.

Little shit.

“I hate coming to these,” a certain brunet muttered under his breath.

It was far too loud.

Not to mention, there were too many people around.

Way too many people.

James Buchanan Barnes took another gulp of his drink, clearly annoyed.

The venue was a huge ballroom-esque-like room that had been decorated for tonight’s event. Billionaires, millionaires, and anyone who was of the elite class was here tonight. Bucky saw someone people in front of him holding glasses of champagne in their hands, deep in a conversation.

“I think General Ross just makes us come to these because he’s a sadist,” Steve’s cheeky remark brought Bucky back to the current conversation at hand, but it also didn’t fly past Clint, who let out a snort. “Please,” the deaf Avenger scoffed, “… he’s a masochist and everyone knows that. Didn’t you know the last time he got on Cap’s nerves, she compared his dick to a Tic Tac? Ross couldn’t look her in the eyes for weeks.”

“I remember that,” acknowledged Rhodey with a small nod. “It blew up CNN and Fox News for weeks. Mostly Fox News though.”

This time, both Steve and Bucky let out snorts of amusement.

Yeah. That sounded like you.

“Yeah. Hannity had a meltdown when she said that.” Clint snickered. “For three weeks,” Rhodey added with a smirk as he happily accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter that had been walking around. He quite gleefully took a sip of his drink. Clearly proud of himself and his statement.

“She was doing the… what did our space visitors call it? Oh! Right. Take names, kick ass.” Clint cackled, clearly basking in his newfound glee as Steve and Bucky rolled their eyes in amusement at the archer.

“The weird alien empath lady was really nice.” a young boy’s voice broke in.

“Alright, who allowed the kid to be here?” Bucky grumbled.

Peter Parker let out a deep noise of offense. “Mr. Barnes!” the teenager whined, clearly in the offense. “I’m a part of the team, remember?”

“… And Tony’s nephew, but we don’t bring that up, do we Little Spider?”

As if she were simply a fairy, the Romani-Jewish mutant had walked onto the scene. Looking very vibrant and regal in her attire, complete with red earrings in her ears. The Vision walked behind her, in his human form. As to not scare any of the other billionaires tonight. His blond hair was nicely combed back, and his black dress shirt looked great too. His slacks were tucked in and his dress shoes were nice and shined to the gods. All in all, he looked great.

Wanda’s hair was curled up into a chignon, and her skirt was a long, pleated skirt that reached to her mid-calf. The material was nice and flowy, and it was a light brown. Her cream blouse was a low-cut, but not enough that she was showing her twins. Quite happily, her brown eyes looked like they were almost sparkling in the boys’ direction as her red painted lips curled up into a teasing smile. “Wanda!” Peter yelped, as the redhead playfully ruffled the younger enhanced boy’s hair.

As the young Peter Parker yelped and tried to escape Wanda’s playful nature, Steve and Bucky’s enhanced hearing picked up on a pair of heels clicking their way towards the ever-growing group.

“Rogers. Yasha. Have either of you seen Cap?”

Bucky was the first to turn around and address his former student in Russian. “No Natalia,” came his deep voice. “… we haven’t. I’m a little worried. I know she doesn’t like these events as much as the rest of us, but she would usually be here by now. Should we send a search party?” he briefly inquired. Worry laced in his tone. Natasha saw two pairs of blue eyes staring at her intently, like the two most feared former deadly assassins of the twentieth century were nothing more than two puppies that were desperately trying to find their human.

Lovesick idiots, the three of them were.

Completely and utterly lovesick idiots.

The other fellow redhead had to resist the growing temptation to not roll her eyes in public. Of course, she knew what the public thought of her. She knew all of that shit by now.

But this?

This?!

Oh no.

Noooo.

She would not go through another day of the three of you dancing around like the three of you were doing ring-around-the-rosie.

Absolutely not.

She would claw her own eyes out if she had to suffer through another day.

“We’ll be fine here,” sighed Natasha. “You know Tony,” she continued on. “He loves the attention. He'll distract them long enough. You two go and find her. You two know her better than the rest of us ever will.”

And it wasn’t that she was wrong.

Because she wasn’t.

As usual, Natasha was right.

The master assassin looked at the two men who had looks of pure determination on their faces.

They had a supersoldier to find.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the building in a broom closet with you…

You had no idea when it happened exactly.

One moment, you had been ready to comfort Steve and Bucky and talk things out, and then the next thing you knew— you had started to overthink every scenario you could possibly think of in your head.

And that had led you to find the nearest broom closet to hide yourself in.

You had your first mental breakdown for the first time in forever.

You were pretty sure that you were hitting what some people affectionately called your “mid-life crisis.”

Full-blown crying and shaking.

It was what Steve and Bucky found when they had managed to hear someone crying in an abandoned broom closet.

Deep away from the current festiveness that was currently going on, was you. You, sunken down to your knees and sniffing.

Luckily for you, your makeup was waterproof. Foundation, concealer, mascara. So none of your makeup was smeared or ruined.

“O-Oh… O-Oh nooooo…” were the only hiccuped words that came from you in disarray, seeing your boys there.

And shit, they looked good.

The black suits really suited them.

No! No! No! That little voice in your head screamed at you.

You were not about to get horny after bawling your eyes out in a broom closet!

No! Nope!

You needed to get a hold of yourself and your precious kitty!

Absolutely not!

You needed to stay focused!

Weakly, you managed to get up. You might have stumbled forward a little because your feet were kinda still asleep. Luckily, Steve and Bucky caught you before you could potentially fall on your face.

It would have been really embarrassing if you did.

“… Nooooo…” you were feeling like total shit. “…. why is my life playing out like a daytime soap opera? What is this, General Hospital? Day of Our Lives bullshit?”

Still, you weren’t done lamenting yet.

“Oh my god… if there is a fucking God or Gods up there or some shit… why do you have to do this to me…” you whined. You couldn’t help yourself! This was a travesty! Truly the biggest scandal you ever had to face in your entire life!

Groaning into Steve and Bucky, you resisted the urge to whack your head on their shoulders to feel the slightest bit of any completion you could find.

Eventually, you just decided to say, fuck it and fell into them. They caught you pretty quickly as you let loose a sigh.

“I’m so tired… I didn’t want to come tonight…”

Hearing how small your voice got made their hearts break. You had buried your face into their shoulders, trying to desperately breathe in the cologne that they were both wearing tonight.

“Well… we can’t really ditch…” Bucky sounded so apologetic that you really wanted to kiss him.

So you did.

Turning so you could be in Bucky’s direction, you kissed him.

It took him by surprise.

You probably hadn’t kissed him or Steve in over seventy years.

Deep in that unspoken part of you, you felt like you were coming home.

Kissing Bucky and Steve felt normal.

This was normal.

You made sure to kiss Steve too. Because if you didn’t, he would look like a wounded puppy and you didn’t want that.

Pulling away from Steve, you had to take a few breaths in.

“God… I fuckin’ feel my age…” your mutters made Steve snort. Bucky chortled.

A scream gathered your attention.

It sounded like it was coming from the huge ballroom.

Your mood was killed.

Totally killed.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You exclaimed, rushing back to the closet so you could get your shield. Slipping your arm into the little slip, you ran back out.

“You brought your shield?” Steve said in astonishment. “Of course I did Steven! This is an emergency!” You were scandalized.

The three of you dashed off down the hall, getting there quickly thanks to the serum running through your veins.

“Stark!” boomed a familiar voice.

You had to turn your head a little.

“Ew! You really need to shave off that goatee dude. There are only two people who can rock the goatee and that’s Tony and Sam.” You even scrunched up your nose at the horrifying sight.

“Who even is that?” Bucky whispered in your ear.

“Justin Hammer.” Natasha wrinkled her nose. Seeing the brown-haired man with the familiar-looking goatee standing on the weird glider in the middle of the room. From the smashed window, you suspected that he had come through there.

“Justin Hammer? That ultra-rich dude that got thrown in prison for trying to steal Tony’s blueprints for his suits?” You sounded surprised. “I thought he was in jail.”

“He was,” Natasha couldn’t help but sounded disappointed.

“Oh well.”

Throwing your shield his way, Justin didn’t have time to duck. Because your shield smacked him right on his forehead, sending him back. Effectively knocking him off of his glider while Pietro, Wanda’s older twin sped over and caught him just in time before he fell to the ground.

“We apologize for this delay!” Your voice boomed, catching everyone’s attention. “We’ll be dealing with Mr. Hammer soon.”

Getting to Pietro, you picked up your shield and whacked Justin’s face. Knocking him right the fuck out.

“Anybody get me a glass of champagne? I feel like I’m going to really need it.”

A few months later…

The worst day of Steve and Bucky’s life started on a dreary, wet, rainy Monday morning.

They were on a mission with you, Wanda, and Pietro. The Maximoff twins had already cleared out their section, and so had Steve and Bucky.

You had just about cleared out your section.

Steve and Bucky had been making their way towards where you were.

And then just as soon as they had come over the threshold, it happened.

Someone had hit you right in your back.

Your scream pierced their ears.

Seeing it happen felt like they were stuck in a weird slow motion.

As soon as you fell to the ground, they moved.

They moved so quickly, that they barely realized what they were doing.

As they moved, the man above you slammed something on your neck, making your eyes roll into the back of your head as you laid there still.

You weren’t dead, just knocked out.

Steve struck first.

Picking up your shield, he struck it right in the dude’s face. It sent him falling back onto the floor.

Bucky, with his metal arm, clenched into a fist, collided on his throat.

Steve slammed your shield when Bucky removed his fist right back down the man’s neck.

Over and over, again and again, they did this. Bucky slamming his metal fist on his neck, only for Steve to do the same with your shield.

A sickening snap echoed in the room.

Another slam of your shield and the dude’s head came off.

Blood was on your shield. The dark red color muddled with the sharp and pristine blue and white.

It was what Pietro and Wanda saw when they were alerted to your section.

A horrified gasp came from Wanda. Pietro used his super-speed to rush over to you, feeling your pulse.

“She’s still alive. Come on, we have to go.” The Romani-Jewish mutant said.

The ride back on the Quinjet was quiet.

Very, very quiet.

You were laying on Steve and Bucky’s laps, your eyes closed. If anyone hadn’t been told of your condition, a normal person would have simply just thought you were sleeping.

But you were not.

Before you had been knocked out by the dude, you had sustained injuries. Blood had been oozing out of your side and had soiled your Stealth Suit. Your hair had fallen out of its braid and looked awfully messy. You were also pretty sure, had you been awake that you were pretty sure seven of your ribs had been fractured because you had been stabbed many times. And, one of your lungs had collapsed.

At least, that’s what the doctors had told the team when the Quinjet had landed at the ICU.

You had been rushed to the nearest room for surgery.

All while the Avengers waited.

And waited.

They had waited there in the ER for hours, practically. Everyone around them was whispering, but no one had taken out their phones to record them out of privacy.

A couple of hours later, a doctor had come out.

“Mr. Rogers? Mr. Barnes?”

Steve and Bucky had never got out of their seats faster.

“Ah… Mr. Barnes. Mr. Rogers. Your wife is going to be moved to the ICU. Her surgery went well and she looks to be on a good road to be moved downstairs once we have a free bed.”

Steve and Bucky audibly breathed out a sigh of relief.

“… Of course,” continued the doctor. “There is still the price of her surgery which will be very hefty—“

“We’ll pay for it.”

Tony made a noise of protest. “No way Rogers,” was his immediate clap back. “I have the money to pay for her surgery. I’ll pay for it. She’s a part of the team.”

To which, Steve had turned his attention to Tony. “No,” came out of him as a snarl. His eyes were dark and burning with rage. “We have the funds to pay for it. We’ll do it.”

“Is no one going to ask about why the doctor said that Cap’s their wife?” Sam stage-whispered to Pietro, who just gave him a shrug in response. This led to Sam turning to Clint, having an in-depth conversation with the archer and the speedster over if you were really married to Steve and Bucky.

Steve and Tony’s bickering voices soon filled up the room as the two Avengers argued back and forth.

“Give me the paperwork,” sighed Bucky to the doctor. Too much shit had happened today for him to process.

He would really need a stiff drink after this.

“I’ll pay for it.”

Meanwhile, with you a few hours later…

All of a sudden, your eyes popped open.

Wanda and Natasha, who had elected to stay with you and watch over you, looked over in relief.

You were awake.

“Hey… Wans… Tash… have I ever told you about Steve and Bucky’s dicks?”

Wanda and Natasha stared at each other. Complete bewilderment colored their faces.

“Um…” was all Wanda could offer at this time.

“Yeah…” you slurred. “Even before the whole serum stuff. Do you remember how I showed you pictures of a small Steve, Tasha? Steve was fucking tiny as shit.”

Natasha remembered that.

She practically remembered everything you had told her about the boys.

“Uh-huh,” was what came from your companion. “No, I remember.”

“Ooooh boy, have I ever told you this,” you drawled, even hiccuping a little. “Even before the serum… Steve had a big dick. Can you believe that he had a big dick? Cause I sure didn’t.”

Wanda and Natasha exchanged another look.

“Uh-huh…”

“Right so…” you were continuing on. “Steve’s a little curved to the left. Bucky’s just… he’s just so fucking big. Fills me up every time. He learned a thing or two from catching all the dames, I’ll tell you that.”

Wanda looked like she was about to snort out a laugh, but a sudden pained look made her stop right in her tracks.

Somehow, like the time that Steve and Bucky had found you weeping in the closet, you had started crying a little.

“Why did this happen to them? Why couldn’t it have been me who fell off that stupid fucking train?” you sobbed. The sounds of the many machines you were hooked up to and also wired to beeped around you.

“I thought they were gone! I thought they were gone and they weren’t coming back! I crashed that plane in the Arctic for a reason!” you wailed.

It felt as if someone had slapped Natasha Romanov really hard on the face.

You had crashed the plane in the Arctic on purpose?

“I thought that maybe if I crashed it I could see them again… because if nothing made sense or mattered… they did… being with them mattered… it was the only thing I ever wanted...” you wailed on, continuing to spill out your deepest darkest secrets like you were at a therapy session and Natasha and Wanda were your therapists.

In a sense, Wanda felt that.

Growing up with Pietro within Hydra ever since they had been babies, she had never known her parents. All she had known were Hydra’s harsh ways, and when the Avengers had come to clear out the Hydra facility and Tony had offered them visas and you had allowed them onto the team, Wanda never truly knew what the meaning of family was.

The Avengers were her home. Her family. Her life.

So when Wanda had quietly said that she was going to go get Steve and Bucky, Natasha held your hand.

And she held your hand until you eventually fell asleep again, dreaming about your boys.

A little over three months later…

You had made a quick recovery, due to the serum that ran through your veins. So on an early morning, you were out on your usual run of fifteen miles with Steve and Bucky.

The sun had yet to rise as the three of you ran down the perimeter of the Compound. Dawn had not even broken in yet either. You were in the lead, followed by Steve, and then Bucky. But you had cooked up a conspiracy that Bucky just allowed Steve to get ahead of him.

Little shit.

Upon finishing your fifteenth and final mile, you stopped running.

Heavy pants even came from you.

Steve and Bucky were just about done too. The both of them stopped and panted as well.

“Yup…” came out of you in pants. “Fifteen miles. On the dot.”

“Yup,” breathed Steve. Bucky nodded his agreement.

“I’m hitting the showers. You guys wanna come with?”

In the wing of the Avengers Compound, were the private apartments that belonged to everyone on the Avengers team. Your room was smack dab in between Steve and Bucky’s. Originally, when Tony had built the Compound, you were still looking for the two supersoldiers. You searched and searched and searched and searched. Day and night, you had stalked the deep depths of the Internet for any scrap of information that anyone had on them.

Tony had built these three rooms specifically for the three of you. The three apartments were inter-connected, and the three of you could go back and forth whenever the three of you pleased.

You had just got into your apartment, smelling like a sweaty mess. Yanking off your workout clothes, you tossed them in the hamper that you kept for your dirty clothes. Grabbing a fresh set of clothes, as well as a new bra and panties.

Putting them on your sink counter, you turned on your shower, turning the dial a bit to the left. You liked your showers hotter than normal people. Not quite as hot as Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones, but still, pretty hot.

What could you say?

You thoroughly enjoyed your so-called “dragon showers.”

Pushing your shower curtain open, you stepped into your bathtub. Pulling it back so you’d have some peace and quiet, you began to shave and shampoo your hair.

Just then, your shower curtain was opened.

You had nearly jumped.

It was Steve and Bucky. Bucky and Steve. Your boys.

Your mouth open agape, you watched as they, completely unashamed of their nakedness, stepped into your bathtub like they owned it. Bucky pulled the shower curtain back so it would close the three of you off, allowing the three of you some privacy.

“You know, if you wanted to shower with me, all you could do was ask. Not just barge in. We’re not living in the caveman ages.” Your sassy clap back had Steve and Bucky both rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. Even though your face was turned, you quite imagined them doing it.

“See? Proved my point.”

Lathering your loofah with your body wash, Steve had begun to scrub you down as Bucky scrubbed your hair with his flesh and metal fingers.

Seeing the black and gold arm was truly a masterpiece. Shuri had done a fantastic job with it.

“You don’t have to do that,” you sighed to both of them.

“We don’t.” Steve easily agreed with you. “But we want to.”

Crouching to his knees, he scrubbed your thighs and went lower to your legs.

“You almost done with her legs, Stevie? I’m almost done scrubbin’ her hair,” said Bucky. “Almost done, Buck,” Steve confirmed. Once Steve rose up, it was clear that he had finished scrubbing you off. Grabbing your shower caddy, you rinsed yourself off. When you knew that you were done rinsing yourself off, you put your shower caddy back and leaned into your boys.

“We need to talk.” Steve’s deep voice broke you out of your stupor.

Oh, those words.

Oh, how those words made you oh so nervous.

“Bout what?”

You had turned your head a little. You were looking at Steve. And then you were turning your head a little the other way, so you could look at Bucky.

“About us,” Bucky added softly.

You swore your heart clenched.

“Natasha and Wanda told us about what happened in the room. When you were cleared to go down to the ICU floor.” Steve explained to you gently.

“I…” you blinked a little.

Truth be told, you only remembered bits and pieces of what you had told the other two women. You had remembered blabbing about Steve and Bucky’s dicks for one, but everything after that, well… it was a little bit hazy.

“Did you really crash the plane into the Arctic?” came Steve’s gentle voice.

Suddenly, everything came back to you. It was as if reality had crash-landed on you.

Everything hit you. Everything everywhere all at once.

“Y-Y… Yeah.” was the only word that you spoke.

Looking at the shower nozzle, you slowly lost yourself in your thoughts again.

“When I lost both of you on the train… I… I felt like I lost myself. I didn’t eat or sleep for days. Timmy had to bitch at me to get my ass outta bed. I couldn’t… I couldn’t mourn you. I didn’t know how. There weren’t any bodies that they found. All I did was scream and cry. I did it for so many months. Screaming. Crying. Throwing up. All of that. So when I managed to catch Red Skull and I managed to kill him, I still didn’t… I didn’t feel complete. You two… you weren’t coming back. Killing him… it wouldn’t do anything.”

“So when I crashed it in the Arctic, I thought, ‘This was it. If I could crash it and I died, then maybe, just maybe, we’d be reunited.’ I couldn’t bear to think about a world that didn’t have you two in it. I didn’t know how I could possibly go on. Nothing was right anymore. The food didn’t taste right. The weather… it didn’t feel as good. Nothing felt good.”

The sounds of the shower contentiously going down the drain filled the empty silence.

Just then, you suddenly found yourself being picked up.

A yelp of surprise came from you.

“We love you,” Steve announced.

You blinked.

You had to process those words.

You really had to.

“We love you. We really do. We never stopped loving you. We always thought about you. Even when we were getting our minds wiped, again and again, we still thought about you. Even if we didn’t remember you or not. We still did.” Bucky added quietly.

By now, you were pretty positive that you were crying.

But you weren’t all that quite sure yet.

“I…” you breathed out, your chest heaving up and down in shock. “I-I don’t… I don’t… I don’t know what to say…” you whimpered.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Steve said quickly.

Oh, but you did need to say something.

You did.

Desperately.

Because if you did not say anything, you probably would never be able to muster up the courage to ever say these words ever again.

“I love you too. I love the two of you so much.”

Were you picturing confessing your love to your old boyfriends in a shower around six AM like a fantasy?

No. Not really, no.

You hadn’t been anticipating it.

Nor had you been thinking about doing it either.

Something deep in Steve and Bucky’s guts snapped.

And you felt it. Call it a sixth sense, but you didn’t really put up a fight nor did you question why you were suddenly slammed against the wall.

You weren’t really surprised when Steve had been the first one to slam his dick in you.

Nope.

Not at all.

You choked.

Like, out loud.

You might have even gasped.

There was nothing to hold onto as Steve plummeted you into the wall like a madman.

He just couldn’t do it anymore.

He didn’t want to suffer anymore.

He wanted it to be like the old days.

Like in those ye olden days, back in that one-bedroom apartment that the three of you shared.

How he desperately wanted the good old times back.

You cried out in pleasure when your orgasm made your thighs shake. It was a little sore considering the fact that you had run fifteen miles already.

And you just knew that having sex with Steve and Bucky would just make the burn feel even worse.

But was it worth it?

Hell fucking yeah it was.

Briefly, you heard Steve grunt as he came in you, the blond-haired supersoldier gasping. Sucking in as much air as he could.

“Don’t hog her the entire time Stevie, I want a slice of cake too.” Came Bucky’s amused tone.

Almost like a camera rearing into focus, your vision snapped right back.

You were staring into Bucky’s eyes, all the while you took in deep breaths.

When Steve pulled out of you, you swore you felt some leakage down there.

The sounds of Bucky walking closer to you made your pussy clench. You even felt it throb in anticipation. Between Bucky and Steve, Steve was always off working in the comic strip place he had worked at after graduating from art school, and considering that Bucky ended his shifts at the docks early, you and he had sex more than you or Steve. Mostly because of Steve’s condition. You didn’t want to accidentally hurt him in any way.

But goddamn, could he use his dick.

You inwardly shivered when you saw the look on Bucky’s face. Even though the water was still hot, and steam was rising up.

Your mouth dropped open when he thrusted himself inside of you.

Your entire body shuddered.

Cause Jesus frigging Christ, he filled you up so well.

“Shit, Jimmy,” was all that came out of you in pants. “You sound like Becca,” Bucky grumbled, making you laugh a little. A snicker from Steve.

He started moving.

Plowing into you, again and again, savoring the way your back smacked against the marble wall of your bathtub.

“Keep hitting her just right, Buck. The noises our best girl makes should point you in the right direction.” teased Steve as he watched from the opposite corner of your bathtub. He was scrubbing himself off with an orange loofah, one that he had brought from his own shower in his apartment.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Stevie.” snapped Bucky as he slammed into just right, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head. Pleasure was coursing through you as you reached your peak.

Your second orgasm hadn’t been enough to make you feel like your legs were jelly.

You were still okay.

Not yet.

Bucky breathed into your neck, his hips stuttering when he came inside of you.

One of your hands managed to reach up, gently stroking his shoulder-length, chestnut hair.

The soft moment was interrupted by Steve.

Of course.

If Bucky was a little shit, then Steve was the OG little shit.

And they were your boys.

Boy, you could pick em.

“Move over Buck,” snipped Steve. “Greedy asshole,” was Bucky’s snarky remark. A little whimper came from you when Bucky pulled out. The brunet-haired man had decided to wash his hair, scrubbing his scalp before rinsing it off as the feeling of being empty filled his senses.

The feeling of emptiness didn’t last long, however. Because Steve rammed himself back into you, causing your eyes to roll back into your head as your vaginal walls clenched down around his cock.

Feeling all of Steve inside of you made your body seize up a little. Steve hissed when he felt the way your vaginal walls clenched around his erection.

Right before Steve thought about thrusting into you, Bucky had finished scrubbing himself off and was looking at his best pal with a disapproving look on his face.

“Why ya givin’ me that nasty look, pal?” Steve huffed at him.

You were trying really hard to make sure you still remembered you were still in your shower.

“Don’t be so greedy, punk.” Bucky slapped his shoulder. “Yeah Steve,” you were helpfully adding, “Don’t be so greedy. There’s plenty of me to go around Rogers.”

A yelp filled the bathroom as you felt Steve pull out of you, just for him to slam himself right back into your pussy. His release, yours, and Bucky’s smeared and trickled down your legs. Your pussy was so wet from taking both Steve and Bucky.

Luckily for you. You were a supersoldier. So this was no sweat.

But what happened next…

Yeah… you were not prepared for that.

Something akin to a whine of protest came from you when Steve pulled out. Only for Bucky to take charge and push himself completely inside of you. Causing your head to loll, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you gasped.

Your hands clenched into a fist as water streamed down from the shower caddy onto your head. Water dripped down your face and down your body as you tried to frantically take all of this in.

“No more keeping us at arm's length, Doll,” Steve told you sternly as Bucky pulled out, as Steve slammed back in. It made you cry out. You were also pretty sure everyone else was about to wake up right now. Or at least, they were about to.

Steve and Bucky took turns pounding into you, making you come again and again. They both held your body tight, watching as your orgasm overcame you.

Your body twitched. Deep gasps and whimpers came from you.

Coming so hard, so deeply inside of you, Bucky and Steve grunted. Gasped, just like you. Breathed in deep as Steve’s hands fell to grope your ass tight, keeping you in place as his fingers slid up into your messy, abused, slopping mess of a pussy. Plugging you up, determined to keep as much as the combined fluids that were you, him, and Bucky.

The water continued to run down the drain.

When the three of you had decided to finally get out of the shower, the boys couldn’t contain themselves.

No.

They could not.

After the stint in the shower, you had been thoroughly brought to completion with Steve and Bucky on either side of you. You, sucking off Bucky while Steve, bless him, was pounding your ass like his life depended on it.

And it did.

It really did.

Could you fault him? You had a great ass.

Coming with a shout, Bucky swore loudly in Russian. Possibly so loud that probably even Natasha heard it from the kitchen.

You nearly choked on his dick when he came down your throat, his sac tightening as he gave and gave all he could to you at that very moment.

It was around this time that Steve came inside of you, filling you up. Bending his head down so he could sink his teeth into your shoulder, leaving a mark. Not necessarily breaking the skin, but it would leave a mark.

The three of you, with you, sandwiched between Steve and Bucky. Taking in deep breaths as the apparent stench of sex filled your bedroom.

A loud knocking on the door disrupted the peace.

“Hey! Yasha! Rogers! Cap! Get downstairs or else you won’t get any breakfast!” Pietro shouted from the other side of the door.

The three of you got up in a panic.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team was happily eating their breakfast.

Tony was nursing a cup of coffee as he blindly swiped at his tablet, looking at the news.

Clint and Natasha were eating together, Clint with his plate piled high with eggs, bacon, and potatoes. Natasha with some pancakes that had been well dressed with maple syrup.

Sam had his plate pilled high like Clint and was eagerly chewing on his potatoes while in a deep discussion with Rhodey over what they were going to eat tonight at their usual place.

“There’s this new place that opened up in Harlem, my sis Sarah overheard that it’s really good…”

Pietro was happily eating his pancakes, topped with peanut butter and chocolate sauce. And you know. Powdered sugar and copious amounts of maple syrup. Wanda was the same. Vision was still in his Android form, informing the team here and there about the things that they needed to catch up on.

Such was the sight when you, Steve, and Bucky finally walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, there you three are!” Tony shrieked. All you did was blink, while Steve and Bucky openly rolled their eyes at the eccentric Avenger. Fixing the three of your plates, Wanda happily slid them over as the three of you took your seats.

“You woke us up! All of us! What with your debauchery!”

Now you were rolling your eyes in Tony’s direction. “It was worth it,” you shrugged. Tony just made a noise in his throat as you started to eat and chew.

“Milk? Tea? Coffee? Apple juice? Orange juice?” Wanda offered.

“Coffee. With milk and two sugars, please.” You replied kindly.

“Coffee. Black, please.” was Steve’s reply as he scarfed down his food.

“Coffee with milk and sugar, please.” Bucky’s kind reply as he swallowed his food.

“Three coffee’s, coming right up.” Her chipper voice made the three of you smile.

As the team continued to eat and talk, you couldn’t help but smile.

This was where you were supposed to be.

This was where you belonged.

Taglist: @bxnnywriting, @greeneyedblondie44, @hawsx3, @sunflowerfive

#stucky x asian!reader #stucky x reader #bucky barnes x asian!reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x asian!reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction

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themerchantsdaughter-fic · 3 years ago

Text

The Merchant's Daughter by pagesoflauren - Chapter 2

Steve Rogers or Ransom Drysdale x partially named! Southast Asian/East Asian!Reader

Important Note: I gave the reader a last name in order to make her easy to identify when she’s addressed and referred to in later chapters. I don’t want to give her a first name, which is why I still consider it a reader-insert style story. You can name her whatever you’d like.

Summary: Just before the beginning of your first season out to society, you meet one man in the rain while your father hosts another as his esteemed guest. With your attention divided, both men stand a great loss in light of your possible rejection.

Warnings: swearing, reader is backed into a lover corner (no throuple), racism/racial prejudice, misogyny, eventual smut, angst. More warnings to come!

A/N: Everyone can read this and feedback/constructive criticism is more than welcome. If any Asian readers want to drop some suggestions, please leave them here, send me an ask, slide into my DMs!

HUGE THANK YOU goes to @eightcevanscentral for beta'ing this. And I must thank @myoxisbroken, the queen of all things historically accurate, for all her help and advice. ❤️

Tags are open!

Series Masterlist

Main Blog

The rapping at his door startles Ransom, making his neck strain as he pulls his head up from the cushiony surface of his pillow.

His temples sting and ache as he rolls over in his bed, the curtains still drawn to prevent as much sunlight from coming in as possible.

The mattress squeaks under his weight as he shifts to sit up and he groans as the blood rushes unpleasantly to his forehead, the resulting throbbing sensation making him groan in complaint.

“Hugh Drysdale, open this god-forsaken door immediately!”

Recognizing the stern voice with a slight tremble, Ransom’s head rolls back in irritation.

It’s far too early for this, he grouchily thinks to himself.

His grandfather knocks again, louder and faster this time. The younger man feels his teeth grit in irritation and he throws the covers off his legs and violently swipes up his robe that hangs from the frame at the foot of the bed. Pulling the silky material over his shoulders, he aggressively ties the string around his waist before pulling the door open.

His eyes sting from the sunlight pouring into the hallway of the boarding house he’s renting a suite in, the pain making him flinch away dramatically.

“Hell and the Devil confound it,” Ransom whines like a child.

“Oh, come off it, boy,” his grandfather gripes, nudging the door further open with the head of his cane. The motion forces Ransom to step backward to avoid getting his toes caught underneath the wood.

Harlan cries out in disgust as he enters the suite, waving his hand to clear the repulsing odor of alcohol and sex from his nose. The door clicks closed and he grabs the center edges of the curtains, pulling them apart and letting light in despite his grandson’s protesting.

“Heaven and Earth,” Harlan sighs in relief as he pushes the window open, breathing in the fresh air that floods into the space. “You’d think something in here died,” he wrinkles his nose as the smell slowly dissipates and looks around.

“On the contrary,” Ransom presses his fingers into his eyelids, “I feel as though I am dying with the bloody sunlight coming in.”

“As I said before, come off it,” the older man commands, folding his hands over the head of his cane and tapping the ground with it.

The sound is familiar from Ransom’s childhood, something that signaled he needed to give his grandfather his full attention.

However, Ransom is no longer a child, so he pays it no mind.

That doesn’t stop Harlan from trying again by clearing his throat.

Shaking his head and shrugging with his hand, Ransom wonders sarcastically if he should call for some tea.

“This is not the time for your sarcasm, boy--”

“Stop calling me that,” Ransom protests, annoyance clear in his voice.

“If you want me to stop calling you a boy, then I suggest you start acting like a man,” Harlan replies.

“Look around you, grandfather,” Ransom opens his arms and gestures to the room. “This is me being a man. I live on my own, do as I please, with no one to answer to--”

“I’m certain you know what I mean,” his grandfather interrupts, tapping his cane against the floor again. “A man doesn’t live in a suite in a boarding house. A man doesn’t gamble away his grandfather’s money. A man doesn’t visit the brothels--”

“Then enlighten me, dear grandfather,” Ransom requests in fake curiosity. “What does a man do by your standards?”

“A man gets married.”

Scoffing and rolling his eyes, Ransom sits in the lounging chair in the corner of the room, propping his feet onto the ottoman.

Harlan continues, “He is head of a household. He takes some damn responsibility!”

“Grandfather, it is so unlike you to use such vulgar language,” the younger man feigns offense, knowing fully well he has used worse language across his lifetime compared to him.

Pointing a warning finger at him, the gentleman cuts to the quick, “You will listen here, boy,” he puts more force into the way he addresses his 28-year-old grandson, “You’re eight and twenty, old enough to take a wide and set up your nursery. I will no longer provide for this wretched lifestyle you lead.”

That captures Ransom’s full attention, wiping all dismissal of his grandfather’s words off of his face. Harlan can see it--anyone with eyes could, frankly--he was scared.

“Grandfather, what are you implying?” he wonders, sitting up and placing his feet on the floor. He’s listening intently, now.

“If you are not married by the end of this year, you’ll not get a single penny from me, or your parents.”

He rises to his feet. “You cannot do that!”

“As God is my witness!” Harlan counters, tapping his cane on the floor as a judge pounds his gavel and matching Ransom’s volume. “Not a single pound or shilling!”

“Grandfather, please,” Ransom implores pathetically. “Marriage is so odious, there’s no woman in the world who has kept my interest for more than a week--”

“Then I suggest you start cleaning yourself up to help you find a suitable lady to court and take on as your wife,” the older man states with finality. “And I suggest you do it fast. My mind is made up.”

The two of them stand in silence, Harlan letting his words sink in and Ransom slowly absorbing them.

Clearing his throat and adjusting his coat, the gentleman excuses himself, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He makes his way to the door and opens it, the creaking sound seeming to jar his grandson.

“Grandfather,” he says, sounding like a child. “Why?”

Sighing and taking his hand off the doorknob, he folds them over the top of his cane again, “I have my reasons, and there are many.”

He pauses, sifting through them, trying to decide which one he should mention now. “When I agreed to finance your bachelor lifestyle, fund this suite, and provide you with an allowance...this way of life,” he looks around once more, wrinkling his nose. “This is not what I agreed to. I never expected you to continue down this road for this long. You’re nearly thirty years old, for God’s sake!”

Harlan points out the obvious with his explanation. “It’s time for you to take some responsibility and fully realize your adulthood.”

Ransom is silent for a moment, before speaking, “Is there no way--”

“None,” Harlan shakes his head firmly. “You marry by the end of the year or your generous inheritance goes elsewhere. By the way you’ve been living, it would just go to waste in your possession.”

With that, Harlan tips his hat and leaves the room.

Slumping back into the seat, Ransom kicks the ottoman in a burst of rage. He regrets it shortly after, however, because now his feet have nowhere to rest but the cold, hardwood floor.

He props his elbows on the arm of the chair, pressing his fingertips into his temple in frustration.

His grandfather created a losing game for him. If Ransom continued to do what he wanted, he would stand to have nothing next year.

If he married--the mere thought of it makes him shudder.

He’ll admit, he likes women. He likes them in his bed, moaning his name; on their knees, worshipping him; in his lap, fawning over him.

Conversing with them can be stimulating, but after a while, it grows so dull. To be fair, it’s the same with men, too.

In general, people are rather boring.

Find a suitable woman, his grandfather had said.

A woman who would please him in bed, keep to herself but be interesting enough when he was forced to talk to her. That would be an ideal woman. The perfect wife.

Where in Hell is he going to find her?

At breakfast, your father calls to you from his seat where he lounges for the afternoon, “My lotus blossom, you have a letter.”

Gasping eagerly, you place your novel on the table and get up from the sofa, walking as calmly as you can to him where he holds it out for you to take. Your mother places her teacup down and watches you intently, waiting to see what message is in store for you.

It’s a beautiful envelope with a red wax seal to keep the flap shut. It feels surreal in your hands--before being out to society, you would get invitations but your parents would withhold them from you, saying it was not the time for you yet.

You had heard the words “perhaps next year,” plenty of times. Little did you know that last year was finally an instance where that phrase was true.

Back in your seat, you break the seal, opening the envelope and pulling out the invitation.

“I’ve been invited to the Forsters’ ball!” you inform your parents excitedly.

Your mother lets out a sound of exclamation, her face lighting up and she reaches for the piece of paper.

“Well, I should hope so,” your father scoffs. “They are some of my best customers.”

You laugh as you hand the invitation to your mother, “Father, I believe everyone in London is your best customer. You’re the most prominent silk trader in town.”

“Well,” he dismisses, spooning another heap of jam onto his toast, “all the more reason for me to believe you should be extended more invitations for such affairs.”

You purse your lips, silently taking a bite of your own breakfast. The toasted bread is a little on the tough side, you couldn’t wait until the cook would prepare a fresh loaf. As you take a bite and chew, you consider how long it’s been since the season started.

You count the weeks, wondering how many balls and parties and dinners have passed that you were not invited to.

How many hosts did not want you there.

“Of course, there’s nothing to fret about, lotus,” your father quickly adds, “There’s still plenty of time in the season. And perhaps you’ll make acquaintances at the Forsters’ ball which will lead to more invitations!”

Despite his intention to encourage you, you can’t help but continue to worry. You’ve waited so long to be out in society, you’re quite late compared to your peers and have had so few interactions with people outside of the household. The only exceptions to that are the late Mrs. Thrombey and the men of the Rogers family.

The Commodore has been a pleasant guest for the most part, though you don’t get many opportunities to speak to him. Granted, part of it is your mother trying to prevent the house staff from gossiping. But, the majority of the reason is your father.

He’s always so eager to speak to him about anything in the world. You figure it’s him finally having someone who can resemble a son; you’re not offended, though.

In your spare time, when your mother is occupied with other things or when it is late at night and your father is in his study, you’d sit with him. He taught you nearly everything there is to know about silk distribution, maintaining a business, and communicating with buyers. With the demand for silk slowly growing, so was his business. He got busier and busier as the years went on, and you followed along, silently observing from the shadows.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had considered that you were the best option to take over the business when your father was ready to retire. There were some obstacles to overcome; you are a woman and there was still more you had to learn, but it could be done. Perhaps you would read more--

“My dear,” your mother speaks, jarring you from your thoughts. “Be sure to have your reply ready. We’ll send a footman to the Forsters’ as soon as you’ve written it.”

Now, there are more important things to focus your attention on; the thing that your mother is so hyper-fixated on that you are nearly not permitted to think of anything else: finding a husband.

And hopefully, the Forsters’ ball would be the start of it.

Nodding, you gather the letter and envelope, bunching your skirt in your hands as you excitedly run out of the dining room before your mother can scold you.

As you make your way up the stairs, you nearly run into another body at the top.

“Oh!” you exclaim, stepping back to give him space, but gravely overestimating how much room you have behind you. You gasp as you feel yourself falling backward, arms flailing as you try to find something to grab onto.

Commodore Rogers catches you instead, large hands coming around your waist and pulling you with him as he steps back into the hallway so that you have room to steady yourself. Your palms and the letter slap onto his chest as you clumsily try to find your balance.

You mean to look at him out of politeness when you thank him, but the words die in your throat as your eyes meet his.

“Are you alright?” he checks, voice soft so as not to startle you.

“Oh,” you say again, eyes wide and lost in his cerulean gaze. Blinking, you gather yourself and shake your head. “Yes, thank you, Commodore,” you answer his question and step back.

The two of you stare for a silent moment and it’s hard to think with your heart hammering in your chest.

Then, his stomach grumbles.

He laughs, looking down bashfully while you giggle in amusement.

“I believe you are overdue for breakfast, Commodore.”

“You’d be correct, Miss Lascar.”

Curtsying, you sidestep around him, “Well, I’ll leave you to it. There’s plenty of food to go around. And I’m sure my father will be pleased to see how well-rested you look.”

“Thank you, Miss. Good morning.”

He turns to descend the stairs and you stand tacked in your place, watching the golden head of his hair disappear below. Pursing your lips, you feel the rough texture of the paper in your hands and remember your task.

You continue down the hall, enter your room, and sit at your writing desk to confirm your attendance to the ball.

Two Weeks Later

The carriage ride home from the Forsters’ ball is rickety, but you’re grateful for it nonetheless. You sigh in relief at the sight of your home coming into view. It’s far too early in the morning--you’re not sure what time, exactly.

The sky is just beginning to turn a lighter shade of blue, but as you look up and see the clouds hanging above, you know it will be overcast later on in the day.

You do your best to step lightly despite your aching feet and keep your shoulders up despite your exhaustion. The night was long, filled with delicious foods and wines, standing for long hours and even a fair share of dances.

You step carefully as you pass the Commodore’s room, making your way down the corridor until you reach your bedroom.

“Sleep well, my dear,” your mother whispered, catching your attention in the middle of blissful thoughts of lying underneath your sheets.

Remembering yourself, you turn back to her, taking her hands and pressing your forehead to hers. “You too, mother.”

Facing your door again, you find your handmaid placing a cup of tea on your vanity.

“Chamomile and ginger, miss,” Rosie says with an enthusiastic smile, which is impressive given the time. She must be tired. “The master of the house said it should prevent you from getting sick.”

You manage to chuckle at your father being so overbearing, even when you aren’t home. “I doubt going to a ball will make me ill,” you say, sitting in front of the mirror and taking a sip.

“Is it to your liking, miss?”

“Rosie,” you sigh, “You know you’re the best at making tea for me.”

Her smile turns pleased and she gently places her hands on your shoulders to ensure you’re in an optimal position for her to get you ready for bed.

“Hold still, please, miss,” she requests quietly, reaching for your earrings. When she removes them, she meets your gaze in the mirror. “Will you tell me about your evening, miss?”

With the excitement in her eyes, you consider lying to her, conjuring up a fascinating story in the moment about how you made countless amounts of friends and danced with dozens of men.

Your sigh gives you away and her face shifts to one of concern.

“Miss?”

“I can’t say it was particularly stimulating,” you reveal, choosing to be honest. “Three men asked me to dance, which was lovely. Though, only in the way that nobody stepped on my toes or my dress.”

She takes off your necklace next, eyes still flicking to look at your face in the mirror to indicate she’s still listening.

“And it was easy to tell they did not want to dance with me.”

“Oh, miss,” she sighs and shakes her head, placing your necklace into your jewelry box before closing it, “You cannot make such an assumption.”

“But I can,” you insist as she begins to remove the pins in your hair. “There was some conversation, but they were not listening much. The number of times I had to repeat myself…” you trail off. “Not to mention how once the dance was over they all but disappeared.”

She looks thoughtful as she wrestles a particularly stubborn pin buried between some strands of hair, but when she finally pulls it out, she looks triumphant. Then, she meets your gaze again. “Surely, you made some new acquaintances, though, miss?”

“You are far too optimistic, Rosetta,” you laugh sadly, using her proper name so that she knows you do not mean to joke. “I was invisible the entire night.”

There were only three instances where you were acknowledged by others: when Mrs. Forster greeted you upon entry, when another young lady accidentally bumped into you, and when Mrs. Forster saw you off at the end of the ball. You recount these as the last of the pins are removed, your scalp tingling and relaxing after your hair was pulled every which way to look presentable.

“For a young lady participating in the social season,” you begin bitterly, your voice becoming watery as tears sting your eyes, “I’m hardly socializing. Not that I do not want to, but because it seems no one wants to engage with me.”

Rosie is silent, picking up your hairbrush and beginning to run it through the tangles.

“If I may be so bold to request to speak freely, miss,” she requests, continuing when you say nothing, “I believe you surpass all the ladies in beauty and they mean to act so coldly to you because of that.”

“What do you mean?” your face scrunches up in confusion. You look nothing like anyone else in London. Your skin is a different tone, your eyes a different shape. Even your hair stands out; where the epitome of beauty is blonde like sunshine with curls, your hair is dark as a night sky, slick and straight.

Rosie seems to know what you’re thinking, “Nobody else looks like you, miss. At least, no one who is out in society. Your features are unique and difficult to miss, but that does not mean you are not beautiful. In my opinion, it warrants a second glance. And your skin is radiant and smooth, such beauty that would make any lady in any ballroom envious. Your hair may not have curls like theirs, but it is so plentiful and healthy and shiny…”

You smile as she gushes about you, unable to prevent yourself.

“Not to mention, miss, I’ve been working in this household for years, and your mother’s face has not changed at all compared to the other ladies of her age. Neither has your father’s. I reckon in ten years’ time, you will be the same.”

You laugh at that, a sense of gratitude washing over you when she places a hand on your shoulder. Covering it with your own, you give it a squeeze.

“Perhaps last night was just others seeing you for the first time and not knowing how to react,” she posits as she resumes brushing your hair. “The longer the season goes and the more they see you, the more they will begin to see just how lovely you are, miss. And who knows?” she shrugs, “The other ladies may then want to imitate you because so many men will fall at your feet.”

With your hair finally detangled, Rosie picks up a ribbon and places it at the edge of the table within reach.

“Besides,” she smiles as she weaves your hair into a long braid at the back of your head, “It’s not like you won’t get any attention from any man at all. Not with the Commodore here.”

You mean to ask her more, but a yawn takes over your mouth, drawing your attention to how tired you are.

“Alright, miss,” Rosie says quietly as she ties the ribbon around the end of your braid. “Time to get you into your nightgown and into bed.”

Undressing is quick with her help, which you thank her for as you walk around the side of your bed and lie down. She helps you pull the covers up to your shoulders, patting the sheets down to make sure you’re cocooned comfortably.

“Sleep well, miss. I’ll be back in a few hours just to check on you in case you get hungry or need anything.”

“Thank you, Rosie,” you reply drowsily, words slightly incoherent as your face presses into the pillow. “You get some rest as well.”

You hear her footsteps recede before the door creaks open quietly and shuts softly.

As you drift to sleep, Rosie’s comment about the Commodore echoes in your mind.

Perhaps that was the only wish you had for the past evening: you wished he was there with you. With a friend at your side, you would not have been so alone. Perhaps then, you would not have been invisible.

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity @stargazingfangirl18 @lovemarvelousfics @rainbowkisses31 @richonne4life @damnndeanndamnn @meetmeatyourworst @tinyplanet-explorer @vivien-1211 @unknownmystery22 @nerdygirl8203 @xoxabs88xox @mariaenchanted @gotnofucks @denisemarieangelina @myoxisbroken @kelbabyblue @pspice639 @maynay43 @just-another-wretched-egg @jennmurawski13 @avantgardium-leviosa @random-butterfly @rachelderivia @kenzieam @bluemusickid @asiaaisa77 @angrybirdcr @inactivewhore @velvetcardiganbucky @madbaddic7ed @mysweetlittledesire @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @buckymydarlingangel

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit @astheworlddturns @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @maeleeme @tvckerlance @thiskindahotkindamusic @fizzahocleirigh

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Steve tag: @twittytelly

Promises & Sacrifice: @speechlessxx @spntiel @finneve @chase-your-dreams-away @o0fortheloveofcupcakes0o @themaskismyface

#Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers fic #steve rogers x east asian!reader #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x asian!reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x southeast asian!reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x asian!reader #steve rogers x reader #ficsofpagesoflauren #The Merchant's Daughter

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profoundtyrantharmony · 3 years ago

Text

Title : Free Time

Warning : None.

Pairing : Steve Rogers x Asian!Female!Reader

Words : 1575

Request : @svetlana-beilschmidt "On their rare day offs both like to relax and cook y/n smiles and mentions she has a recipie of home meals from her childhood and both are foodies and gives it a go".

Masterlist // Request

Being an Avengers is a pride that few people can brag about, and no one does. We dedicate our lives to our line of work. We save the world from aliens, robots, secret nazies organisation..., we protect citizens..., we are your shield. Thanks to us, you can live freely without fearing for your lives every other days. Being an Avengers is an honor and we are all glad to be part of such an amazing team, a familly.

But as you can imagine, there is also days where we'd wish to be normal citizens, not supersoldiers, gods, spies or else. Being able to walk on the street without being recognise by passerby is something that most of us can't do anymore. People, you, love us, respect us, but the fact is, you don't really know us or what it's like to be one of us, the concessions we must do to protect ourself and our familly or possible loved ones. What you also might not know is that we don't have hollidays or as much as free times schedule in advance as you common people. Between fighting, training, writing reports, meeting, fighting again...free times, hobbies or hollidays are not easy to plan, especially when we don't know if a mission will be during longer or shorter that what was planned. Plus, villains have the tendencies to always repeat themselves no matter how many time we stopped them which is particularly annoying.

But we made it work. Some people would give up...but not us. It's important for a team and a group in general to maintain a certain amount of relaxation time in order to always be ready in case of an impending mission, and for our mental health it's evidently an added bonus.

Today is one of those day, we just came back earlier from an important mission in Siberia, where a Hydra base was found collecting pieces of alien technology to make weapons of mass destructions out of it. Again !! It was a tough mission but we made it successfully. As we came earlier that means we have more time off duty. Each member have their own way of relaxing after a mission. First of all, we all take a shower and refresh ourself (washing all the dirt, the blood and sweat sticking to our skin to erase the smell of death), then we have to write the mission's report (this way we won't have to do it later), finally we usually hang out together in the living room. The day after we often disperse ourself. Clint and Natasha go to the farm for some familly time as well as Sam and Bucky who go to Louisiana to see Sara and her sons (Bucky internally hopes Sara and him could be a thing in the near future). Wanda and Vision spend time together visiting cities near. Bruce takes advantage of his free time to go watch seminaries about science and societal problems. Tony works in the lab as far as Pepper isn't here to dissuade him. Loki goes to see some art exhibitionniste and visits Museum. Thor stay at the tower since him and Jane are over. Just like Steve and I, we always try new recipes (that Thor will validate or not) after a mission.

Steve and I are huge food lovers. We try our hands on french food with dishes like le bœuf bourguignon, la quiche Lorraine le pot au feu, la tartiflette and some french desserts too like le Mille Feuilles, le Paris-Brest, le baba au rhum... We also tries some Spanish, German and Italian foods. The fact is we both love to cook and to eat, but we also appreciate to discover new flavors, taste and recipe typical from certain country. That is why we enjoyed the asian food so much, it's totally different from the occidental countries. We already try to cook Japanese Gyoza, bo bun from Vietnam, Korean bibimbap, pad thaï from Thaïland and Chow Mein from China. I am from the Philippines but I still never try and cook some traditionnal food from my homeland with Steve.

Cooking with Steve is our ritual, the best one that exist obviously. When we cook together, it is always calm and relaxing, we both take our time, we each help the other when one of us is in difficulty. Steve often makes me listen to old thirties and fourties musics which is incredibly calming.

This morning I woke up early to prepare the ingredients for our meals. Actually it's been a while since I wanted to cook this typical dish from my homeland. It's a special recipe that my maternal grand-mother would do to me when I was a little girl. I was eager to see the face of Steve when I'll suggest it. Right now he was doing his jogging like everyday so that left me some time to sort of all the food.

One hour later, I hear the elevator bell ring and see Steve coming out of it.

"Hi sweetheart, did you sleep well ?" He asks kissing me on the forehead.

"Like a baby, what about your running ?" I answered smiling genuinely back at him.

"It feels good actually, refreshing. Not a lot of people this early in the morning." He takes me in his arm, this time kissing me on the lips.

"You're all sweaty !" I say laughing while trying to get out of his grasp. "Go take a shower and then we can snuggle if you want."

"I know you love me, don't even try to resist my natural musk we both know you like it." He says with a wink and a huge grin adorning is baby face. He then looks at the ingredients on the kitchen table then at me : "What are we cooking this time ?"

"It's a traditionnal meal from my homeland, it's call a Sinigang na baboy. Basically it's a Filipino stew characterized by its sour and savory taste. It is most often associated with tamarind, although it can use different sour fruits or leaves as the souring agent. My grand-mother used to cook this meal to me everytime I came to see her...it's been a long time and I'm a bit nostalgic."

"I'd be honored if you'd teach me how to cook this familly recipe." He tells me while taking the side of my face with his big hands. "Plus, the way you describe it makes it seems incredibly delicious, I'm sure even Thor would say that and he's not particularly into sour food."

"Ok, then go shower and we'll start cooking right after."

After the shower Steve heads to the kitchen to cook with his best girl, Me. We always cook together during our time but today is a bit different. Indeed, this time it's a familly recipe so I'm a bit more demanding than usual, which apparently is kinda cute in a way. I'm giving him very specific advice about the best piece of pork, how to cut the veggies and so on for a better aspect in the plate. I also tell him about my grand-mother, some anecdotes about my time in the Philippines. Steve listens with attention but sometimes he just stops listening to look at me. The way I speaks with such knowing and passion about this is simply addictive (that's what he told me).

When we finish and are proud of ourself, we call Thor for his judgement.

"What do you say the name of this meal is Lady y/n ?"

"Sinigang na baboy, it's Filipino. Now taste it please." You answer with a smile.

"It's different...the first bite it's like a taste I don't really like, the sourness is really present but the other ingredients makes it bearable and the more I eat it and the more I love it. Which make this dish really excellent ! ANOTHER !!" He screams with enthusiasm.

"We're gonna let some for the other buddy." Steve tries to reason with the him without laughing at the pouting god.

"Next time we could do an other Filipino recipe, like some Adobo for instance."

"Lady y/n you too precious !" He exults. "What is it exactly this...Adobo ?

"Basically, Adobo is the immersion or raw food in a stock or sauce composed variously of paprika, oregano, salt, garlic, and vinegar to preserve and enhance its flavor."

"It looks strange but I'd like to try. May I ask if you could do something now, something sugary maybe ?"

Here goes the tooth rooting god.

"I suppose we can do some Halo-Halo, it's a supreme shaved ice dessert ; or we could do some Lengua de Gato which is our version of butter cookies. There are so much more dessert we can do I can't think of everything." You tell them rambling a bit at the end.

"That would be amazing my Lady, it seems perfect for my goddly appetite." He is grinning like a child on christmas, so adorable coming from this giant man. I look at Steve but he is already staring me in the eyes with such tenderness I thought for a seconde I would fall.

"Alright Gentlemen we got work to do." The rest of the day passes calmly without interuption except the ones from Thor himself who wanted to taste absolutely everything.

Besides this we spend an amazing free time day, with friends, lover, and of course with delicious food.

*This is the end my second fic, hope you enjoyed reading it*

*If you want to request check out here*

*Likes, Comments and Reblogs are also appreciated*

#steve rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #asian!reader #reader insert #steve rogers x asian!reader #captain america x asian!reader #fluff #steve x asian!reader #avengers x reader #mcu #fanfiction #oc reader #steve x female reader

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lipstickbisous · 4 years ago

Text

we'll meet again | 1

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐓

pairing: steve rogers x oc!reader

summary: if you are given a name, you would answer only to yourself.

warnings: alcohol consumption, guns, murder, dark and mature themes, 18+ MINORS DNI

word count: 2.2k

a/n: first chapter, here we go!! also, for any language other than english spoken in this, i used google translate! please message me or send in an ask if there are needed corrections! and this does not follow the exact plotline and timeline of the mcu!

the following work is my own writing. do not plagairise or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.

masterlist - series masterlist

"online, маленький."

little one. the darkness dissipated as her eyes slowly unveiled the deepest pools. the light was blinding, contracting her pupils before she could adjust. the man in front of her wore a white coat, with tweed pants and shiny polished shoes. on the chest of his coat was a circular, golden bin, carved with a small letter 'H'. suddenly, it was cold--her blood was chilling and she shivered from the ice in her bones, but why could she not react? why did she remain still in her chair, hands folded in her lap and back straight.

her left eyebrow arched, head cocking slightly to right. "who are you?" her mouth whispered. she doesn't remember ever learning vocabulary, but the words seemed to flow. "where...am i?"

the man looked down to the band of metal around his wrist and noted the time. "thank you for keeping calm," he nodded, lips slightly curving into a smile but it looked as if invisible fingers were forcing it. "my name is iosif pavlovna. i'm a friend," another forced smile. "can you guess where you are?" his accent was thick and hard to read through. there was a melodic beat while his thumb rhythmically tapped against his wooden clipboard.

she was silent and ignored his question. her eyes danced from the floor, to the wall, and back to the man's face. "iosif," she whispered almost inaudibly, letting the name play out on her lips. it slightly tickled when she spoke with a breathy voice. "what is my name?

a silent laugh erupted in the depth of his eyes as iosif stood from his metal chair, the clipboard still stiff in his hands. "no name," he shifted his weight on his left leg. "if you are given a name, you would answer only to yourself. and you, защитник," protector. "you were made to answer to others." the unanswered question that still lingered in the air was not forgotten but ignored as the subject changed. "but as a prize for doing so well, i have a treat." the smallest of smiles grew on her lips as she clasped her hands together on her chest. iosif looked to a small black camera that hung in the corner of the room. it whirred as it shifted to the right, capturing her in its frame.

it was the beginning of a series of tests that would take course over however long needed. her excitement calmed as the room suddenly took on a darkness, one that was impossible to see through. not a single morsel of light managed to peak its way inside, not even from the hallway when the door buzzed open. she could hear footsteps, heavy ones that sounded like clunking metal against concrete. whoever was there had been trained in agility and silence, for even their tiny inhales of breath were inaudible.

"маленький, i'd like you to meet the soldier."

brooklyn would always be the star of the country. it didn't matter of monuments stood in other cities, if celebrities lived in others, this place would always be aurora's home. it was hard for her to feel small. she was well-known throughout the underground community of secret trading and experiments--she was a revolutionary step in the world of engineering and artificial intelligence. bystanders strolling past her on the street, taking no notice to her presence, didn't even know it, but she was a walking database. she had traveled to every nook ion the planet, seen even the smallest towns, the most deserted civilizations. but something about new york always drove her back.

polished black heels clicked against the sidewalk. there was a cheeriness to her step, evident in the way she held her chin up. she was dressed in the most expensive fabric and looked incredibly out of place in this part of the city. however, confused stares and arched eyebrows did not dull her light and she continued her fast-paced stroll down the road to wear a flight of stairs dug underneath the ground. they led to a matte black door with flakes of paint chipping off of its wood. there were no windows, no secret entrances, nothing to show the lights that were on inside. it appeared as an abandoned basement and that was exactly how they intended on keeping it.

her gloves that covered delicate fingers knocked against the door. when she pulled her hand away, a chip of wood and paint snagged a thread from the satin that hung loosely and depressingly. with a frustrated sigh, she ripped it off of her limb and shoved it into the pocket of her jacket. her ears caught sound of muffled footsteps behind the barrier before they halted. she imagined whoever was there had their eye pressed against the tiny peephole. a lock unlatched with a click, followed by a questionable grunt and a long, ear-splitting beep as the door slowly opened.

"can i help you?" a shriveled, gravelly voice questioned her. the voice belonged to a old, white-haired man that went up to her nose with big dirty green eyes, and it was dripping with a sneering sense of disrespect. she saw it in his eyes too. he took one good look at the clothes on her body before muttering a, "i don't know what you think you're-"

"mr. arbatram, that's enough," this voice spoke from the back of the building. it was deep and rusty, and just hearing it made her insides curl with disgust. she gave the old man a tight-lipped smile and brushed past him, making sure to let the mud on her heels trail on the floor. when the door was slammed shut, followed by muttered curses, she entered a room that was dimly lit and found her spirits lifted.

a jazz club. a light saxophone played through a speaker system. at least twelve circular tables were scattered over the room, each one adorned with a small oil candle in the middle. on the walls were countless framed photos of musicians and artists. they looked indescribably beautiful--each one was a precious moment in which they were so deep in doing what they loved. she wished for that.

"защитник," the voice spoke again, hidden by a newspaper that crinkled with every turn of its page. defender. only one table in the front was taken. in a chair sat an auburn-haired man, clad in a pearl-ish grey suit. he flipped the newspaper closed and threw onto the table. its headline read "PRIVATE HYDRA DATABASE RAIDED BY CAPTAIN AMERICA" and below it was a black and white photograph of the one and only. "they didn't manage to steal much. if he wasn't admired by every person in the world, i'd have steve rogers shot in his sleep. he's a pain in the ass, you know?"

she took her seat beside him and hummed a laugh. "he gets the job done," a waiter set down a thick glass next to her arm. it was filled halfway with ice drenched in an amber liquid but she wouldn't touch it. "pierce, i'm not sure why i'm here."

just then, a woman in a skin tight black dress that shimmered underneath the spotlight walked onto the stage-like platform in front of them. it was almost impossible to notice, but a fat bead of sweat traveled from her forehead, down her temple and cheek, and to her chin. she looked to alexander pierce and cowered. it was then that aurora noticed a brawny man standing behind the curtains, a long handgun in his palm. on the barrel was a long, cylinder silencer.

alexander clapped his hands together before taking a long draw of whatever drink he'd ordered before aurora had made her appearance. "i think i'd like to hear some nina," he smiled at the woman, but it was passive and threatening. "i don't need the whole band. just the piano's fine." the woman nodded as her body began to convulse with every step towards the grand piano on stage. she took her seat and began to play the familiar intro. "oh, sinnerman," pierce began to sing under his breath, closing his eyes as if drifting into another world.

aurora rolled hers and took her turn with her drink, downing the whole glass and raising her hand for another. "where's the soldier?"

his eyes remained closed and he hummed, "siberia."

the music seemed to increase in volume when she jumped from her seat, knocking the glass onto the floor. it shattered and spread across the ground, waking pierce from his haunting trance. "what?" she snapped, causing the women at the piano to strike a wrong chord. she looked to pierce with fear-stricken eyes like he held her life in his hands...

"it's alright, jasmine, just..." pierce sighed and tiredly rubbed his fingers over his eyes. "keep playing." he turned to aurora and adamantly motioned for her to take her seat. she did so with a puff of air. "we wiped him two weeks back. one of the worst ones we've done."

"why?" aurora gritted through her teeth; it was hardly a question.

in pierce's chest sat a heart. it functioned perfectly fine, pumping blood and oxygen through his body. it kept him alive and well and he didn't need much more of from it. which is why deep inside, it was moldy and black with carelessness and ignorance. "he hasn't seen you in 20 years. and when he woke," he paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. "he asked for you."

she grunted out a blunt laugh as another offensive chord rang through the club. "i'm flattered." as the woman played, it was clear this wasn't a talent. this was truly who she was. but her eyes would crawl over to the silenced gun less than five feet away from her, and her fingers would tremble over the keys as if someone was violently shaking her shoulders. deep in aurora's heart, whether it was real or not, she had a soft spot for the soldier. she had protected him and cared for him for what seemed like a lifetime, but never did he remember her. "one day, his hair will turn white and his skin will wrinkle," she spoke bitterly, not fond of the memory that rang through her head. "what will you do then?"

her smirk did not falter him. instead, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "we'll use you." pierce spoke threateningly, because as much as aurora wanted to deny it, one day it would become true. the soldier would pass on, a monumental name in HYDRA history, there was no doubt. and she would be morphed into him. "for almost 55 years, you've achieved great things that no man ever could. not even the soldier. you're a revolution waiting to happen. all it takes is time." he stands from his seat and strolls to the stage, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. aurora's expression remains still. "unfortunately, time seems to be running out.

"the world is begging to be saved. i can see it, and so can you," his hand twists under the wooden platform and pulls a 466 viking from a hidden slot. a split second later, he pulls the trigger directed at jasmine's temple. the bullet pierces her skull, blowing through the inside and out the other end. the curtain behind her is sprayed with a crimson blood and her black, shimmering dress is stained dramatically as if this were a movie scene. when her body crumpled, aurora felt something like pity inside of her. she knew how a shot like that felt, only she would wake up from it with a raging headache. "that's why this mission is yours."

a guard behind her pathetically throws a stiff black, card stock folder on the table. her fingers delicately flipped it open. "what am i supposed to do with this?" she pursed her lips as the metallic stench of blood wove its way in the air. the first page, crisp and white and newly printed, read in big bold letters,

STEVEN G. ROGERS

his picture was poorly-taken. it had been quick and for identification purposes only, but just at the bottom where it cut off she could see the straining emblem of red, white, and blue. it seemed that he hadn't gotten the message of what year it really was. his hair was neatly combed to the side with a sticky gel and aurora's memory flashed back to her early years. the photograph below it was slightly newer and his hair was shorter. his face seemed deeper and the patriotic costume was now darker and sleeker.

"captain rogers is a threat to our program and what it stands for," there's a few drops of blood on the pristine white collar of his shirt and pierce tries his best to wipe them off, but it only smudges the red staining further into the fabric. "he's a national hero. i told you, the world loves him. he can't just disappear. it has to be slow and progressive."

she slaps the folder shut and pushes it to the edge of the table where the guard retrieves it, sliding it into a thin briefcase. "i still don't understand how this is on me."

"because, защитник," he leans forward and it's sickening. his lips are dripping with power and control. he has the advantage here and he knows it. a wrong move and he could shut her down--this time, it would be permanently. "steve rogers needs someone to love."

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thereoncewasagirlnamedjane · 1 month ago

Text

small worlds.

✩ read on ao3 ✩ masterlist ✩ forget-me-not creative campaign ✩ library blog

‣ pairing — 1940s!steve rogers x f!reader

‣ contents — one-shot, hurt/comfort, somewhere between fluff and angst, implied smut, established relationship

‣ summary — all he ever wanted to do was the right thing. it never occurred to him that doing the right thing could possibly hurt someone he loves.

‣ word count — 1.5k

‣ notes — this is my submission for my own creative campaign lmao 😅 i just got inspired looking at those prompts again, okay? and these are my missing pre-serum!steve hours 😭 and after the week i’ve had, i need some comfort~

prompts used: ✩ geranium = returning joy ✩ plumeria = “well, this is new.” ✩ zinnia = mourning your absence

Bucky had been wrong.

His best friend predicted that you would be thrilled to see the new him. After all, the girls at the SSR couldn’t seem to stay away, nor could the flight nurses out on the frontlines, no matter how many times he told them he had a girl back home and just wasn’t interested.

Howard was the only one who knew well enough to warn him; given how Steve had left things with you before he took off on his tour across the country, he shouldn’t expect everything to be sunshine and rainbows when he got back.

The two of you had fought, the biggest one in the history of your relationship, and hadn’t spoken to each other in days before he had to leave. His efforts to lie his way into the army was always a source of friction between you, and this, being selected as the subject for Project Rebirth, was just another straw on the camel’s back.

Steve knew you were just afraid for him, as anyone who mattered to him would be, but it was something he knew he had to do. Unfortunately he couldn’t be convinced, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t also terrified of facing the consequences.

“Be prepared to grovel, Rogers, like you’ve never done before,” Howard warned, giving him a grave look before waving him off. “Hell hath no fury.”

So, he showed up at your door only days before he had to leave for Italy, holding a bouquet of flowers and shuffling nervously on his feet as he waited. Steve didn’t know what to say when you opened the door, feeling a little awkward himself at nearly two feet taller and about a hundred fifty pounds heavier.

You stared at him for a moment, almost as if you didn’t recognize him.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly, giving you a hesitant but hopeful smile. You looked like you might reel back and punch him, no doubt still angry about the way things went down and how he’d returned to you looking like an entirely different man, but then your face crumpled.

There were downsides to the serum, he realized, as he could smell the salt of your tears before they even reached your lashes. He leaned down, bending at the waist, something he never had to do before, letting you wrap your arms around his widened shoulders. He could taste the relief in your tears as he kissed them away.

In the hours that followed, however, you remained distant. He caught you staring thoughtfully at him from across the kitchen, only to quickly avert your eyes when he looked up from the hearty dinner you made him.

You pulled away subtly when he reached for your hand or the soft dip of your waist, flinch when he moved to kiss your cheek, and returned all his dumb jokes with tight smiles.

“Well, this is new,” he grinned softly as he stepped behind you, his chest firm against your back, grabbing a jar on a high shelf that you were struggling to reach.

It took you a few moments too long to turn towards him, your lips curving upwards ever so slightly but it never quite touching the rest of your features.

Even when he lay next to you that night, it felt like you were miles away. He was leaving soon, all the way to Italy and then to god knows where else, and he didn’t want to leave things this way. He didn’t want to go yet, not while he was uncertain about whether you’d welcome him back next time.

But as always, it’s like you hear the thoughts in his head without him ever needing to speak them. It’s why this works; he broods and you see through him, as though you have a map directly to his heart.

“It feels strange,” you confess in hushed tones, the two of you lying in the darkness of your bedroom. When the two of you touch, it feels foreign. You feel guilty, as though you were somehow being unfaithful to a version of him that would never come back.

“I know,” he says, reaching for you. His heart sinks when you pull away. He lays there in silence, his enhanced vision capturing you so clearly in the dark, staring up at the ceiling as your bottom lip quivers.

“You took him from me,” you whisper, eyes shining so brightly with anguish in the moonlight. It takes a moment for him to realize what you mean. He can hear the tears sliding down your temples and dripping onto the pillow.

All he ever wanted to do was the right thing. It never occurred to him that doing the right thing could possibly hurt someone he loves.

“I’m still me,” he murmurs, his fingers desperate to wipe them away, his arms itching to find their place around you once again.

“To everyone else, even to you, he was always just that scrappy little nobody from Brooklyn. But to me?” You are weeping now, your voice thick with grief even though he’s right next to you. “To me, he was everything. I don’t want Captain America. I want Steve. My Steve.”

Steve swallows hard. You always were the only one who did.

“He’s still here,” he pulls you close and this time, you don’t fight him. You fold yourself against him, crying harder when you are met with the hard sharp planes of his new body, instead of his usual soft edges that always seemed to embrace you right back. “I’m right here.”

He lets you cry into his chest until, after what seems like hours, you finally drift off into an uneasy sleep, the front of his shirt still damp with your despair.

But it doesn’t take much longer to find a new normal.

He still smiles at you the same way as the day you met, a little sheepish and a little shy even after all this time.

He still does that thing where he intertwines his fingers with yours, his touch a little evasive, teasing you a bit before finally pressing your palms together.

He still holds you for as long as you need, always letting you be the first one to pull away.

He still quietly fills the pages of sketchbooks that he hides on your bookshelf.

He still eats so slowly, taking his time at your dining table because even a slightly bigger portion than normal used to make him sick.

He still looks at the most terrible parts of humanity and decides that the world is worth saving.

You slowly get used to the fact that he can reach the higher cabinets in your kitchen now, that he no longer falls ill at each turn of the season, and that while you will never get to see your Steve again—even though you think of him often—this Steve is right: he never really left.

And when you’ve forgiven him, because there really was no question about it, when you’re ready to give yourself to him again, you’re both a bit nervous and awkward.

It takes a little bit of dancing to get used to each other’s bodies again; you’re much smaller compared to him now, and he’s afraid he’ll forget his newfound strength and inadvertently hurt you somehow.

But, much like you did before when he was small and inexperienced, he guides you and you eagerly follow. He lets you come to him, allows you to set the pace and boundaries of how far you’re willing to go, and he always looks at you the same. He even says it again—

“I can’t believe you’re here with me,” he croaks, so close you can smell his aftershave.

It’s moments like these when you fully realize that while the serum changed him on the outside, it never touched what was inside. As always, he handles you with the utmost care, pulling you cautiously onto his lap, his hands gently cradling either side of your face as he drinks you in, eyes darting back and forth across your face before he finally leans in to kiss you.

His eyes never once leave yours, even as you abandon your dress and undergarments on the bedroom floor. His fingertips slide down your sternum in a featherlight touch, down the valley between your breasts, before turning his hand over to brush his knuckles lightly over your rib cage, raising goosebumps in his wake.

You stare into his familiar eyes, the ones that fill your vision with the clearest blue—as if you’re looking into a cloudless summer sky, just like the day you met the boy with a heart ten sizes too big for his chest—and you sigh in relief.

“There you are,” you purr against his lips.

His lips stretch into a smile, coaxing yours into doing the same. He remembers a promise he’d made to someone else not that long ago, and he promises it again—to you this time.

That you will stay who you are.

That he will never lose your Steve.

fin.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x asian!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fic #steve rogers and reader #steve rogers captain america #pre serum steve #janie’s creative campaign

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onsunnyside · 2 years ago

Note

dumpling feeding your soulmate while he carries your baby in a wrap is officially a love language

Could I pls request either a Steve/Ransom x wife!reader where they’re married and the reader is teaching one of the boys how to swaddle their baby?? 🥺 And he keeps messing up like leaving either leaving a leg or arm out or maybe like the blanket keeps unfolding? 😂 and maybe she rewards him with delicious warm dumplings?

dad!steve rogers x wife!reader (fluffy fluff!!)

author's note: ehehe i did steve bc i have another request in the works for ransom. i took some liberties but i hope u enjoyyy 💕💕 they're at dimsum btw 😌 warnings: reader is asian/poc coded :)) no appearance descriptions

“No, no honey. That’s not where your hand goes.”

It’s apparent his daughter takes after him because she just extends her squishy arm further out of her sling. “No- don’t.”

The ladies across the shared table aren’t even trying to hide their cooing anymore. Giggling and waving at his baby girl still rebelling.

“Please.”

“She can put her arm out, Stevie. It won’t hurt her.” Gently, you tug at the wrap to block out more of the light.

All around is porcelain clinking and multilingual chatter but she has her own natural lullaby, pumping effortlessly. steadily.

“Here, we came here to eat, remember?”

Steve doesn’t look away from the little head just under his chin. Not even when you poke his lips with a dumpling until he grumpily accepts.

---

masterlist

#sonny’s fic recs #steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers #Steve rogers fic rec #steve rogers x asian!reader #steve rogers fluff #brandycranby<3

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buckyalpine · 2 years ago

Text

Bangles and Bordeaux

Bucky x south Asian reader

A/N: Image is mine. Contemplated on leaving this piece in the drafts because its self indulgent but I hope you enjoy it. Not too many details about the reader but reader wears a sari/saree. You can skip past this if its not your thing but I hope you enjoy immersing yourself in something a little different! Please reblog, comment and like! <3

Warnings: Fluff! Word count: 4.4k

You tossed the file on the table groaning at your latest mission assignment. The issue wasn’t the mission itself; all you had to do was gather some details on a possible international weapons supplier, observe their deal with the buyer and report back. The location wasn’t far either, though Tony insisted on splurging on a luxury hotel for you and your partner to stay in, hoping it’d convince you to go. Partner. There was the problem.

You stomach churned as you fiddled with the pen in your hands wondering how you’d manage to get through an entire night with Bucky Barnes by your side. You had a hopeless crush on him, all your futile attempts to move on had crashed and burned. Your dating life had taken a dive; it felt impossible to give anyone a chance when your heart was elsewhere. It didn’t help that whenever you spoke to him, you became a shy, blushing mess. It’s not even like you were his type, you definitely didn’t look like the girls that snuck out of his room early in the morning.

“Honestly, do I have to go? Ugh, I don’t really own any gowns, how is this going to work” You looked at the dress code for the night, clearly stating you had to be in formal attire. You’d only recently started going on missions that required more than a tactical suit. Your closet desperately needed an upgrade with a few more outfit choices. You tried to give Tony your best pout but it went nowhere.

“There’s going to be people from everywhere, you won’t stand out if you’re not in a gown specifically y/n”

“But- Tony cut you off before you could finish, uninterested in any excuse you could think of.

“Look, just pack whatever formal wear you have and you’ll be fine, your cover as a couple is more important”

“Why can’t Nat or Wanda go” You huffed, you already didn’t know how to act when you passed Bucky in the kitchen, now you had to pretend to be married to him?!

“Nat is away in Bucharest, Wanda is in Sokovia and somehow I don’t think capsicle and bird brain would make a convincing couple, besides I need them here for something else” Tony rolled his eyes, at Sam’s fake offence, watching him gasp and grab his chest.

“I beg to differ; Steve and I would make a great couple” Sam grabbed Steve’s face in his hand, smushing it against his cheek, “See? Couple goals right here”

Steve shook his head, snorting “Yeah, I’m sure Nat and Wanda would be ecstatic for us to start dating behind their backs”

“Good God” Tony smacked Sam upside the head before continuing, “Moving on, that leaves you and tin man, y/n”

You let your forehead smack against the table, staying there until you heard the sound of heavy footsteps down the hall. You sat up wide eyed as Bucky entered the room, plopping down on the seat beside you to look over the assignment.

“All we have to do is watch them and report back? We both have to go?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow, confused over why this mission was even necessary and why it required two people to act like a couple. Specifically why he had to act like a couple with you; he already didn’t know how to act around you. Every time you smiled, Bucky felt his insides melt and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Sure, he was a ladies’ man years ago, but things were different now. He stayed away from dating altogether, dabbling in the occasional meaningless hook up hoping it’d distract him from his feelings for you. It did not.

“It’s for one day Buck, you guys will be fine” Steve smiled reassuringly, smirking on the inside watching his friend fidget with the papers while sitting beside you.

“I guess…” Bucky looked over at your wide eyed face, giving you a tight lipped smile before looking back at the file. “Uh, married?”

“Yup, go in, gather some info, send it back. We can’t do much until we build a better profile on the supplier, I don’t need another Mandarin incident” Tony shook his head, recalling the witch hunt they went on with minimal information, guns a blazing, only to discover Trevor Slattery cowering in a makeup room.

“Go and get your stuff ready, you guys leave in an hour!” Tony sauntered out of the door with Steve and Sam, leaving you and Bucky behind.

“Uh, I guess I’ll go pack” Bucky scratched the back of his head, glancing over at you as you picked at your chipped nail polish. Your face flushed as you nodded, getting up too quickly and stumbling onto Bucky’s lap. He caught you, your face inches from him, holding you for a moment, before letting you go.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, I should have looked at where I was going” You scrambled out of his lap, attempting to collect yourself, grabbing the file and shoving it under your arm, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

“It’s okay doll” Bucky’s cheeks turned red, the name slipping out on its own. “I mean y/n, it’s okay y/n”. Why did he bother to correct himself, idiot.

“I’m going to- I’m going to go get ready” You dashed out, running to your room, why the hell did you have the social skills of a goat.

Bucky groaned to himself, he didn’t have any issues charming women that he didn’t care about but it was different with you. When it came to you, his tongue stopped working and he was as smooth as sandpaper. Pre serum Steve was better than this.

You shut the door, hitting your head on it a few times for good measure; there was no getting out of it now. You didn’t have any gowns; the only formal events you went to required traditional clothing and you didn’t have time to go shopping now. You rummaged through your closet, shifting through your cupboard of saris, trying to find one that would work for the evening. You had a number of cotton, chiffon, georgette, pure silk and satin ones to choose from, settling on a stunning deep maroon number with the matching blouse. You grabbed a box, placing your gold bangles, a chain and earrings for the evening, along with your makeup, pins and bobby pins for your hair. You didn’t have time to pleat the sari now, quickly folding it hoping the hotel would have an iron.

Bucky paced around his room, his suit already laid out, bag packed. He wasn’t sure which idiot thought this would be a good idea, but there was no getting out of it now. He sat by the compound doors waiting for you, his breath hitching when he saw you padding down the stairs. You wore plain black leggings and an oversized sweater and somehow you were still the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. You smiled shyly at him, suddenly wondering how you’d be getting to the hotel.

“How are we getti-

“Here Frozone, don’t crash it” Tony tossed his Audi R8 keys to Bucky, having pulled the car to the front. Bucky stared wide eyed at Tony, not realizing he’d be driving with you by his side. Before you could say anything, Bucky took your bags, placing them in the back and opening your side of the door. You blushed, mumbling a quiet thank you before getting in.

Steve, Tony and Sam smirked peeking from the window watching you both leave the compound.

“So, you think it’ll work?” Steve quirked an eyebrow, wondering if his friend would catch on the actual mission you were both being sent on.

“They’ve been tiptoeing around each other for months, blushing and smiling all the damn time, I feel like I’m in a romcom with those two in the same room. Idiots” Sam shook his head, grinning as the car pulled away.

“For an ex assassin, you’d think he’d be more trained in reading body language to know she has a huge crush on him” Tony sighed to himself. “Scary stealthy Winter Soldier my ass”

“Wasn’t he a ladies’ man?” Sam didn’t understand how Bucky had zero issues talking to women he’d never met before, only to fumble the second you were near him.

“He was! He still is! He’s just…apprehensive…?” Steve really wanted to defend his friend but he couldn’t think of a valid excuse. You were kind and sweet; Bucky liked you just as much, you both just needed a little…encouragement.

“He’s apprehensive over a walking talking cotton ball?”

Steve and Sam stared at Tony. “Cotton ball?”

“Yeah, y/n, small, soft, non threatening, everything tin man shouldn’t be so scared of”

***

The car ride to the hotel was silent, aside from your raging heart beat you were sure Bucky could hear with his super soldier hearing. He did. What you didn’t know was his heart was racing twice as fast, driving as carefully as he could with you by his side. You both checked in and made your way up to the suite, courtesy of Tony who was happy to get you one room.

Of course the room was beautiful. It had everything you needed and more. There was one thing though. You both stared at the very large comfy looking elephant in the room; a single king sized bed that sat in the middle of the huge space. It was easily big enough for the both of you to share but it still meant sleeping in the same bed. You set your bags down, deciding sleeping arrangements would have to wait with only an hour left till you both had to be ready. Lucky for you, the event you had to attend was in the grand hall of the hotel you were staying in.

“Uh, I guess we should start getting ready”, Bucky laid his suit out, looking over at you realizing you didn’t bring a long garment bag like what Nat and Wanda usually had when they had to bring gowns to change into.

“Where’s your dress doll?” There it was again. God he couldn’t help it, doll suited you perfectly. You smiled at the name he had for you, your face heating up as he stripped his Henley off, putting on the crisp black shirt he laid out.

“Oh, um, I didn’t have a dress; I just brought what I had”

You set your bag on the bed, pulling out the neatly folded sari and blouse, popping open a few pins before you started pleating. Bucky watched you quizzically as you spread out the long fabric, picking up a corner and folding it. He adored the way your brows knitted together in concentration as you readjusted the sari pleats to make sure they aligned perfectly. You started pinning the perfect folds, standing in front of the mirror to make it fell over your shoulder and below the back of your knee. Your eyes met with his in the mirrors reflection as he watched you with heart eyes but you figured he was waiting for you to move.

“Sorry Bucky, it’ll just take me a few extra minutes to get ready, I’m almost done with this, and you can use the mirror soon”

“No, no, don’t apologize doll, I just…I haven’t seen that before” Bucky smiled at you softly. He was still new to the modern world; he didn’t get to see or experience different cultures when he was younger and it wasn’t a privilege he had when he was the winter soldier. He rarely had time to learn and experience new things aside from his time in Wakanda.

You blushed, placing your outfit on the bed and getting your jewelry for the night, heating up the iron to run over your pleats before draping the sari.

Bucky slipped into the bathroom to finish getting ready, deciding to keep the light stubble that covered his cheeks instead of shaving it. He grinned to himself remembering a conversation he overheard where you told Wanda his scruffy face was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. He was ready within minutes, hearing the very loud gasp you let out as he walked over to where you were doing your makeup.

“You look so ho- I mean really sex-…very handsome. You look very handsome” Wow y/n. So smooth.

You felt like you lost 3 years of your life mustering the courage to say that; this man in an all black suit was going to be the absolute death of you. Bucky blinked at you, his heart in his throat watching you as you sat at the vanity in a fluffy robe, a few rollers in your hair and your makeup mostly done. You were applying a tiny bit of gloss to your lips to complete your look; dark smoky eyes with lipstick that matched the sari. It complimented you skin tone beautifully.

“Oh, th-thank you doll” Bucky’s face flushed, as he gazed shyly at the ground. He would give anything to be like this with you every single day. The moment felt so intimate, your long black hair pinned in the rollers, getting ready together, watching you do your makeup while you sat in a comfy robe. Of course he had to muster the courage to talk to you properly first but a man can dream. You looked at the time, realizing the event would start soon but you’d still need a few minutes to finish getting dressed.

“I’m so sorry Bucky, I’ll be ready soon. You can get our names checked in for the guest list; I can meet you downstairs as soon as I’m ready”

Bucky nodded, though he was completely ready to skip the entire evening just to spend some time alone with you. He was starting to feel a little more at ease without Sam or Tony breathing down his back about having to put himself out there.

“Take your time doll, don’t rush, I’ll see you downstairs” He gave you a sweet smile before shutting the door, his body buzzing with anticipation over playing your husband for the night.

You hung the robe to the side, quickly hooking on your blouse and tying on your skirt. You stood in front of the mirror with the sari, tucking in the material, wrapping it around yourself and adjusting where you wanted it to fall behind you. The satin material easily fell into place as you pinned it on your shoulder. You tucked the front pleats in, placing a few pins in the front to keep the folds in place. You slipped on your bangles, earrings and necklace, doing a quick twirl in the mirror and fixing your hair before heading downstairs.

You fidgeted with your bangle in the elevator, butterflies erupting in the pit of your stomach as you got closer to the lobby. You were already nervous about having to pretend to be Bucky’s wife (you definitely dreamt about it), but you also worried you’d stand out. What if he felt uncomfortable around you, especially because you were dressed differently? The ding of the elevator doors opening broke you out of your thoughts because the train wreck could go any further.

Your eyes scanned the ball room that was buzzing with guests, searching for your pretend husband for the night. You plucked a glass of red wine from a waiter that passed by, hoping to ease some of your raging nerves. Your eyes locked with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes you always got lost in across the room, your heart racing, fuck how would you be able to focus on a mission.

Bucky stood by the bar, his jaw dropping as you walked in. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. The beautiful satin material was perfectly draped around your body, accenting the curves he’d never seen before. His mouth hung open as you made your way towards him. Your long dark hair was pinned to the side, giving him a perfect view of your jaw. The gold jewelry you wore made your skin glow; your sultry makeup brought everything together perfectly. You looked like a goddess.

“Holy shit…”

His breath hitched when your lips darted out, catching a drop of the dark red wine that stained your lips, he was screwed.

“You look…” He was utterly speechless, his mouth opening and closing, remembering you were now his wife for the night. He would have been just as speechless even if you really were married. Screw the mission, he had a new mission in mind; to make you his. At least, muster up the courage to ask you on a date.

Bucky placed his arm around you, his metal hand resting against your bare skin of your exposed waist making you shiver. He placed a gentle kiss on your jaw, pulling you closer to him.

“My wife is the most beautiful person in this room without a doubt”

Your face heated up, leaning into him, standing on your tippy toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek. The scent of his cologne made your heart flutter; you wanted to burry your face in his chest and breathe him in all night.

“Could say the same about you, you look so handsome baby” Your hand caressed the scruff on his cheek; Bucky leaned into your touch, blushing.

“Shall we go sit?” His hand found yours, making your way through the crowd, a number of eyes falling on the both of you. You tensed for a moment, relaxing when you felt his lips press a soft kiss against the back of your head, his hand wrapping protectively around your waist.

“I told you, you look gorgeous. Everyone’s eyes are on you babydoll”

“Or they’re on you; I’ve always loved how you looked in all black with some stubble”

Bucky grinned, pleased with his choice to not shave for the night. You giggled, finding an empty table near the back of the hall which also gave you a good vantage point to see everyone.

You spotted your target at one of the tables not too far from you; a middle aged man with curly greying hair and a beard. Ulysses Klaue. He sat surrounded by a few of his men, taking a long swing from his glass before getting up and making his way over to a different table.

“All we have to do is sit here and watch what he does?” Bucky still couldn’t get over the fact that you’d both been sent over to essentially people watch. Tony could have bugged the place and watched from the compound if he really wanted to but at this point he wasn’t complaining.

“Mhm, that’s what the file said” You took another sip of your wine, the Merlot easing some of your nerves. You both sat in comfortable silence watching Klaue though he actually hadn’t done much aside from make an ass of himself, groping a woman as she walked by, earning a slap to the head. That didn’t seem to bother him much either, grinning proudly as he attempted to paw at someone else.

“What the hell do we even write about this man, that he has a weakness for women” You huffed, freezing as the man locked eyes with you, licking his lips as he got out of his seat, stalking towards you. “Shit”

“Quite the exotic little piece of arm candy you got there” Klaue grinned at you, unbothered by Bucky’s death stare as his arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. “Names Ulysses Klaue”

He extended his hand towards you but Bucky shook it instead, his grip firmer than usual.

“Terrance O’Conner. This is my wife, Ava” You felt Bucky’s hand slip under the material of your sari, his fingers tracing soft circles onto your skin, relaxing you.

“Well aren’t you a lucky man Mr. O’Conner” Klaue’s eyes continued to wrack up and down your body, “Gorgeous little thing dipped in gold and wrapped in satin” Before he could continue, one of his men approached him, whispering in his ear. Klaue reluctantly backed away, whispering something to one of his men before exiting from a door near the bar.

“Should we follow them?”

Bucky shook his head, “Tony said only document what he does here, and if we follow them then he’ll get suspicious”

You nodded, noticing some of the tables had cleared as most people had began to make their way to the dance floor. The lights dimmed, couples joining together, swaying slowly to the music. You looked longingly at the happy couples, smiling as you imagined yourself with Bucky, unconsciously leaning into him.

“May I have this dance?”

You sat up, unsure if you actually heard those words as Bucky stood up, extending his hand for you to take. You nodded, smiling shyly, letting him lead you to the middle of dance floor. He spun you, pulling you towards him, grinning as your arms slung around his shoulders, your head resting against his chest. You leaned into him as he put his arms around you, his lips brushing by your ear, as he whispered.

“You really do look gorgeous y/n”

“You should see yourself, Mr. O’Conner” you giggled, adoring the way Bucky’s nose scrunched, grinning down at you, his cheeks flushed as he held you close. You spent the rest of the night, wrapped in each other, swaying to the music, walking hand in hand back to your room as the evening came to an end.

Bucky sat on the bed with the laptop, typing out the mission report, documenting the sparse details they were able to gather for the night. He huffed in frustration, unable to stop sneaking glances at you while you started to unpin your sari in front of the large mirror. His mind wandered again, the way this moment felt intimate, like something he’d have if you were actually his. Watching you get dressed, watching you go through your night time routine, he wanted it all.

“Bucky could you…please?” You fumbled with the pins on the back of your blouse, struggling to take one that you’d placed on the back of your shoulder.

“Of course” Bucky got up, hesitating for a moment before slipping his fingers under the material, quickly undoing the pin, his hands lingering on your soft skin for a moment. Your eyes met in the mirror reflection; Bucky could feel the warmth radiating off you and hear the way your heart rate picked up.

“I-I’m just going to…” Buck nodded as you clutched the material to your chest to keep it from slipping, making your way to the bathroom to change. You removed your makeup and folded your clothes, slipping on an over sized t-shirt to sleep in.

Bucky sat at the edge of the bed, having changed into some sweats, finishing up the mission report. You nervously sat on the other side, carefully slipping under the covers, making sure there was space between you both.

“I can sleep on the floor doll, you can have the bed” Bucky started to get up, until he felt your hand grab his wrist, stopping him.

“No! Stay…” You looked at him with a soft smile, hoping he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, “I don’t mind, really” Bucky couldn’t hide the shy smile that crept on his face as he closed the laptop, getting under the covers with you. You both laid in comfortable silence for a while, slowly adjusting yourselves to be more comfortable while inching closer to each other. You felt his hand brush against yours as you let you hand intertwine with his.

“I had a lot of fun tonight…with you” You’re voice was hardly above a whisper and if it wasn’t for his super soldier hearing, he would have missed it.

“Me too doll” Bucky turned on his side to face you, now or never Barnes.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you’d want to actually go out sometime, maybe dinner, or coffee or um-

You cut off Bucky’s rambling, pressing your lips onto his. Bucky froze for a moment, smiling into the kiss, pulling you closer to him.

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

You grinned, nodding as your forehead rested on his, melting into his embrace, the both of you falling asleep wrapped in each other’s warmth.

You arrived at the compound, hand in hand, confused over the howling and whistles you heard as you entered the living room.

“Pay up, I told you!” Tony had a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he saw your hand in Bucky’s.

Steve and Sam groaned, pulling out fifty dollars each, reluctantly handing it over.

“I told you it would work”

“Told who what would work?” Bucky plopped down on the sofa, still holding your hand as you sat beside him, equally confused.

“That this mission would bring you love birds together” Sam grinned, adding air quotes around the word mission.

“Why are you saying mission like that” Your eyes narrowed as you looked at the 3 men across from you giggling together like school children.

“C’mon, you didn’t pick up on the real reason we sent you two away when I could have just bugged the place for info” Tony smirked, extremely proud of himself. “Which I already did by the way”

“Then why the hell did-” Bucky shook his head, utterly confused “By the way, the target didn’t do a damn thing other than paw at people all night before getting called away” Bucky scoffed, secretly relieved he didn’t actually have to do much because he was able to give you all his attention.

“You can thank me for that; we managed to get him out and away from you guys. You both looked so cozy, we decided to intervene. Didn’t want him to ruin the real reason we sent you both out for the night”

“Were you watching the entire time?!” You sat up, scoffing while Tony sat back with a smug expression his face.

“Look, you both needed a push to actually talk to each other; we figured a night together wouldn’t be a bad idea. Playing husband and wife meant you had to actually get close to each other” Steve explained, making his way out of the living room, signaling for the other two to follow. “We’ll leave you two alone now”

Sam snorted, wiggling his eyebrows as you hid your face in Bucky’s arm, unable to hide the blush that spread across your cheeks.

“I can’t believe they did that” Your voice was muffled as you continued to hide in Bucky’s arm, feeling his cool hand pull your face close to his, pecking a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Was worth it, my stunning satin wrapped doll”

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sunshine-on-my-mind · 3 years ago

Text

Rain of love

pairing: Steve Rogers x Desi/ South Asian Reader

words: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (no explicit smut) Angst, fluff, happy ending, steamy moments, rainfall, kissing, making out (sort of), implied jealousy (??)

a/n: Hi cuties!! this one is dedicated to all my beautiful Desi / South Asian queens out there. EVERYONE CAN READ! I really really hope you like it, this is my first time writing for a desi reader. Also the song “Zara Zara” is one of my favourite songs ever. So again, I really hope everyone likes it! Let me know if you do. Do tag or share this your Desi/South Asian friends if you like it.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated

Lyrics in Bolt Italics

Song Used/ Song Inspiration:

An air of melancholy surrounds you, while standing on the terrace, soaked in rain. The loud music coming from inside, fading out. Rain, your only relief right now, heavy drops against your soft skin, washing away the emotions you’re desperately trying to get rid of.

“Hey” comes a soft voice from inside, close yet feels so far. You won’t turn to face him, not in this state, not when you’re eyes, your lips and every inch of your face will open your heart to him. Not after realising how everything you felt in your heart doesn’t reach his, how it feels like a one-way route that leads to a dead-end.

“You’ll get sick” is there a hint of concern? Or is it irritation? Or just the responsibility of being the Captain, looking out for everyone. “Come inside”. You don’t move, still facing away, looking at the city. Silence growing between the two of you.

“Everyone left, and the team has retired to their rooms for the night” You can hear footsteps, the voice now louder. His hand on your shoulder, shivers go down your body, even the rain didn’t have that effect on your skin.

“Let’s go in, come on” Steve rubs your shoulder softly. Your dark hair is drenched wet, sticking to your skin. It’s pretty dark now, rainfall making in darker, city lights glimmering. When you don’t move, you hear a deep breath coming from Steve.

He turns you around, you look down, he holds your chin, tilting your face up to make you look at him. Gently stroking your face, as if to learn it by heart. An artist’s touch maybe? His touch feels hot, contrast to your current state.

Strands of dark wet hair on your face, you look like a beautiful painting, a work of art, Steve thinks, but you don’t know that. What you know is that you won’t ever be good enough for Steve Rogers, or rather it’s what you think. He pushes the loose strands of hair behind your ears.

You still don’t talk. Not a word from your mouth. But your mind is racing, one of your favourite hindi songs comes to your mind.

Yuhi Baras Baras

Kaali Ghata Barse

Hum Yaar Bheeg Jaaye

Iss Chaahat Ki Baarish Mein

Meri Khuyli Khuli Lato Ko Suljhaye

Tu Apni Ungliyon Se

Main To Hoon Isi Khwaayish Mein

You close your eyes shut. Can’t bear to look at the man who has the power to win your heart in seconds and break it even quicker. Everything that you used to think means something, the small talks, the shared smiles, the happy times, probably doesn’t mean much to him. If it does, then why would he dance with that girl in the party like that? Or are trying to make excuses for the fear of rejection?

“Look at me, please” You don’t.

“Fine” Steve tells you.

Suddenly you don’t feel the ground below your feet. You feel strong arms around your thighs and stomach. Legs dangling slightly. Your hands-

You open your eyes to see your hands gripping Steve’s shirt tightly while he carries you inside, bridal style. He is drenched too. His wet shirt felt comforting against your fingers.

Steve puts you down only after he takes you to your room. You immediately miss the warm contact, suddenly too aware of your drenched state, you feel cold.

Steve turns to leave and you want to stop him. As if he can listen to your thoughts, he stops in his tracks, but still doesn’t face you.

“I-“ he tries to form a sentence instead of blabbering everything he wants to express to you. “The person I care about the most, the only person I have feelings for, is the one who is not talking to me right now” He stands there, clenching his fist.

Until you hold his hand and he feels relaxed, unclenching his fist.

“Steve, I-“

He turns to look at you, your dark brown eyes look mesmerising, even if brimmed with tears.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you.” You murmur

“You’re right, you deserve so much better”

Is that what he thinks? Is that why whenever you felt something could happen, you felt him trying to pull himself away from you?

“Steve”

You stand on your tip toes, leaning in, hoping he won’t pull away, he doesn’t.

Steve crashes his lips against yours, you let him control it, he does.

You melt in the kiss as his tongue explores your mouth beautifully, always the artist’s touch.

His strong arms holding you close to his body, inspite of the wet clothes, you could feel the warmth from your bodies.

Steve pulls away looking at those beautiful eyes again, then your swollen lips, he traces it with his thumb.

“I love you, so much” Steve opens his heart to you.

“I love you too, so much. So much that it hurts when you’re far, when you’re not with me, when you pull yourself away from me, Steve” It’s your turn now.

He kisses you again, this time trailing kisses from your mouth to the corner of your lips, your jaw, your neck. He licks and kisses your neck to his heart’s content. You grip at his blonde hair.

“Stay, please” You plead.

He nods.

You start unbuttoning his wet shirt. After asking for permission. You remove it.

His body is glistening. You plant a soft kiss on his chest. His breathing gets heavier.

You hold his hand and take him to the bed, stopping just at the edge.

“Wait here, I still have your t-shirt and shorts that I borrowed. I’ll bring them, get changed.”

“I’ll wear the shorts, you wear my t-shirt” he tells you with a slight authority in his voice. You bite your lip, before getting him the shorts and going to the bathroom to get rid of your wet clothes.

You look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, wearing his t-shirt. A soft smile on your face.

When you come out, you find him already lying on the bed wearing nothing but his shorts. You stand in front of him, wearing only his t-shirt and your undergarments. Steve looks at you from head to toe. Again and again before he feels he has taken everything in.

You join him on the bed, he pulls you closer to him. You rest your head against his chest, his heart beat calms you down. You pull the blanket to cover you both nicely.

“I am sorry if I’ve hurt you, Sunshine” You smile at the nickname. He called you sunshine for the first time on a sunny day, when the sun made your skin glow into the most beautiful colour Steve had ever seen. Your warmth felt like sunshine.

“It’s okay Stevie.” You nuzzle your head against his chest as he softly strokes your back.

In this moment of togetherness and closeness, that song plays your mind again.

Sardi Ki Raaton Mein

Hum Soye Rahe Ek Chaadar Mein

Hum Dono Tanha Ho

Na Koi Bhi Rahe Is Ghar Mein

You hum the tune softly.

“What song is it?” Steve asks, you smile.

“The one that was made for this moment.”

He kisses the top of your head as you both surrender yourself to slumber, bodies wrapped with each other.

———————

English translation of the lyrics (even though the feel is stronger in the original words)

Yun hi baras baras kaali ghata barse

Let the dark clouds pour

Hum yaar bheeg jaaye

Let us get drenched

Is chahat ki baarish mein

In this rain of love

Meri khuli khuli latton ko suljhaye

May you straighten my open hair

Tu apni ungliyon se

With your fingers

Main toh hoon issi khwaish mein

This is my only desire

Sardi ki raaton mein

In the cold nights

Hum soye rahe ek chaadar mein

Let us sleep together under one blanket

Hum dono tanha ho

May both of us be alone

Na koi bhi rahe is ghar mein

And may there be no one in this house

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x desi!reader #steve rogers x desi reader #steve rogers x south asian reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x desi!reader #desi tag #desiblr #south asian #Spotify #steve rogers #captain america x reader #marvel #mcu #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst

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tharros-auris-black-asimi · 3 years ago

Text

God, I wish you would have thought this through, before I went and fell in love with you (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Summary: Six months ago, you used to be in a throuple with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

Six months ago, they also broke your heart. Then six months later, you're back in your hometown due to your grandfather's funeral.

With your ex-boyfriends at your side. Can anything get any worse than this?

Knowing your family, yes.

Yes it can.

Chapter Warnings: Strap in everyone, this has lotssss of angst. Like, a lot. Some people might be looking at this and seeing similar tropes that I use a lot in my fics, and as it pains me to agree, I agree. So, we'll be affectionately calling this my "comfort writing." Now that we've gotten that outta the way, onto the content warnings!

Breakups, mildly!asshole!Stucky??? Kind of???? I'm just putting that as a warning just in case you like them soft. They're also kinda stupid in here too.

This story does have a specific Asian Reader, but feel free to imagine whatever you like!

Family drama. And I mean family drama. Good enough to have thirteen seasons on TLC type of drama, lmafo.

Like all of my stories, this does have a happy ending. Although you could call this one a bittersweet ending.

Additional Notes: Some Hmong words, just in case for translation:

Yawg- A grandpa from the dad's side of the family

Pog- A grandma from the dad's side of the family

Niamtais- A grandma from the mom's side of the family

Phauj- An aunt from the dad's side of the family

Any other words that are in italics are for Russian, and bolded is for Hmong, as per usual.

As always, you can read this fic on my AO3, here.

Word Count: 7,113

Six months.

It had been six months since Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had dumped you for each other.

You should’ve known that this wasn’t going to last.

You should’ve known.

Everything had been so perfect.

There was no other word to describe it.

Perfect.

Like a fairy tale.

Well, unless you counted stopping aliens from overtaking the planet, corrupt Generals, and a former fascist organization being taken down a part of it.

But then, six months ago, you had been so excited to tell them the news. You had been planning to buy a Townhouse in Brooklyn. For just the three of you to live in together.

When your boys called you into their room, you had been so excited to share with them the good news. You even had a pep in your step. Making your way to your boys’ room, you wore a smile on your face.

You should’ve known something was going on when your boys hadn’t been smiling back at you. They were almost glaring at you.

“Buck and I were thinking. Of going to the next step. Together. Just me and him.” Steve had told you.

As soon as he had spoken those words, your smile had dropped. Your phone fell from your hand and clattered to the floor.

“Are… are you…”

You never got to finish your sentence. Your throat had lodged up. With shaky hands and your heart feeling like you had just dropped out of your chest, you managed to pick up your phone. A ping coming from your phone, showing the offer for the Townhouse. You swiped it away.

“O-Oh. Oh. Oh. I’ll… I’ll see you around. I guess.”

“Yeah,” Bucky had told you softly, “I guess.”

And then you tail-gated out of the room before anyone could blink.

The last thing you heard was the door slamming loudly behind you.

You stumbled down the hall before you just fell down. Right in the middle of the hallway.

“… Hey! You okay?”

It was Sam. He had noticed your distressed form and knew that you weren’t okay. So, being the great friend that he was, he picked you up bridal style and carried you to your room.

Upon reaching your door and getting inside, Sam set you down on your bed. Took off your shoes and placed them near the door, because he knew you had always told all of the Avengers that came into your room to put their shoes by the door. It was something you had been drilled in growing up in your Hmong household. Any Asian household had this rule, really. It was pretty much just an Asian household thing. He even took off his own shoes at the door too.

Next, Sam turned on your TV and went straight to Netflix. Putting on Mean Girls through the VPN for Canada’s Netflix, because American Netflix didn’t have it anymore. Because American Netflix sucked ass. Then, Sam looked at you. Pausing the screen for a second. “Do you want Natasha and Wanda to swing by? Well… just Natasha. Y’know, since Wanda and Vision moved to New Jersey.”

You only gave him a nod. Satisfied, Sam quickly dialed up Natasha and in less than five minutes, she came into your room. Taking her shoes off by the door. Luckily, Natasha had been free all day.

No missions. Nothing in the Avenging business. She had gone into town earlier today, to go and see her baby sister, Yelena. Just to drop by and say hello.

The boys had been acting strange when Natasha had come back. All huddled up together. When she asked where you were, Yasha had snapped at her saying he didn’t know. Steve, all-righteous Steve, even brushed her off. Natasha hadn’t known what crawled up their asses until she made her way towards you, holding you like how she had been held by Melina when they had been on that mission in Ohio. Before they had flown to Cuba and had been sold to the Red Room.

She hadn’t gotten it.

But now, as she held you, as you blubbered on what had just happened, she got it.

She got it completely.

It was only after you had your good cry, which had led you to fall asleep in your bed, did Natasha look at her teammate.

“So what happens now?” Sam looked up from his phone. Tapping and typing in it for a second. “Old Man and Steven were supposed to go on a mission tomorrow for a few days. I just extended it to a month. I just texted Tony if he wanted to plan a gala. For Babygirl, of course.” He looked at your sleeping form.

You were knocked out like a light. All conked out. Sam and Natasha saw your chest rising up and down, soft snores as you breathed your nose as you slept.

Natasha knew Sam was one of your best friends. The two of you talked endlessly about your favorite shows on HBO, Hulu, and Amazon Prime. The redhead assassin knew that Steve and Bucky never really got your pop culture references, but that they had tried. Every time your eyes lit up, Natasha always saw them hanging off of your every word.

“You don’t think she’s going to want to move into that Townhouse, do you?” Natasha asked Sam quietly. Sam picked up your phone from where it was on your little nightstand beside your bed. Your phone screen showed you, Steve, and Bucky at Coney Island. The picture had been a selfie, and it had caught you all three mid-laugh.

Sam put your phone down after locking off your screen.

“No,” Sam said, “No, I don’t think she will.”

“Should we let the team know?”

“Tomorrow after the guys leave. I know I’m not going. Just don’t make it obvious. Clint’s not going with him, is he?”

Natasha shook her head no.

“Babygirl’s ain’t gonna wanna tag along. Don’t blame her. Guess we’re just going to need to keep this under wraps. C’mon Romanov, we got a gala to plan.”

The boys left the very next day. But before they left to get on the Quinjet, Steve and Bucky had dropped by Clint and Natasha’s room but found the two of them missing.

Which was odd.

The two of them then checked Bruce’s room, to also find him missing. They had brushed it off, thinking that Bruce was probably in the lab.

Rhodey was gone on another deploy mission with the Air Force, so they knew he wouldn’t be back for at least a month.

A loud blast coming from Tony’s lab told them that the genius was in his lab.

Sam wasn’t in his room either when they came to check out his room too.

Which left them to one last stop.

Your room.

Steve and Bucky couldn’t describe it.

An aching feeling appeared in their chests when they stood in front of your door.

So many memories were made here.

They remembered stopping in front of your room a lot before the three of you had started dating.

Come to think of it, the three of you had always seemed like a couple.

Even back then.

The three of you did what couples did. You ate together, hung out together, touched each other… but the three of you weren’t just having sex. You had been a virgin when you had met Steve and Bucky. It wasn’t some weirdness on your part, you had just wanted to make sure, whoever you lost it to, that it counted. You didn’t want to lose it to some fucking weirdo or psycho. God forgive if you lost it to some freaky serial killer either.

So when the door opened, the boys secretly thought it would be you on the other side.

Except Sam Wilson was the one that greeted them.

“Oh… I thought you guys were Stark.” Turning his head back inside your room, “Hey! Y’all got two minutes to finish your makeup! Then we’re leaving!” The door closed behind Sam as he grinned at the two.

“… Leaving?” Bucky said slowly. Sam just smirked at him. “Yeah. Romanov and Babygirl and I- we’re going to the mall today. Just some good ol shopping. Stark said we could use his card. Credit card, I think. We’re probably gonna blow most of the spree at the food court.” Sam chuckled at that.

The first thoughts in the supersoldiers’ heads were no.

Shopping had been their thing. With you. They had gone shopping with you all the time.

“But… shopping… shopping used to be our thing,” Bucky whispered dejectedly. Sam might’ve even remarked to himself that he almost felt bad for the metal-armed man.

Suddenly, your door opened.

Your laughter rang in their ears. You and Natasha, like Sam, were dressed casually like civilians. Unlike Sam though, you and Natasha were wearing a little bit of makeup.

Which didn’t surprise Steve and Bucky.

Makeup had been a fickle thing for you to learn. You never really told them why you didn’t wear makeup much. Your face would become solemn and your boys, not wanting to bring up bad memories, left it at that.

Now though, they were wishing that could’ve brought it up more.

Sam brightened when he saw the two of you. “You guys ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah. We’re ready to go.” Your cheerful expression on your face only dropped when you realized that the boys were still standing there. Looking at you as if they had seen a ghost.

“Don’t you two have someplace to be?”

It was as if someone had slapped them hard across the face. Your tone was so dismissive as if you were one of their teachers from grade school when they had been growing up together in Brooklyn. Receiving no reply, you just rolled your eyes as walked past them, smacking against their shoulder as a result. “Why do men exist,” was mumbled by you underneath your breath as you walked down the hall, down to the elevators, so you could reach the first floor of the Compound. Aka, the lobby.

Sam and Natasha exchanged a look.

The elevator dinged. Its doors opening. Sam and Natasha rushed over, in order to get to the elevator doors before they closed.

Steve and Bucky were left to stand there, in their suits, wondering just what the hell had happened to you.

One month later when their mission had been over, they had been greeted by people scurrying around, as was the norm for the Avengers Compound.

“… Oh my god, did you go to the gala last night?”

“… Oh my god, it was soooo much fun, right?”

“Did you see Eagle? Oh my god, her dress was gorgeous. I was so jealous when the pictures came out this morning. Did you see her dress, Dan? She looked beautiful.”

Naturally, as Steve and Bucky were making their way down the halls of the Compound, to get to the debriefing room, when they heard your code name, they stopped immediately in their tracks.

They were confused.

You? A gala? Had Tony thrown another party while they hadn’t been here? As much as Steve and Bucky disliked the attention galas brought, Tony never threw one without consulting the entire team first, as like a heads-up.

Debriefing could wait.

They made their way to Tony’s lab, where the man was currently making an update to your suit.

They knew it was your suit, because of the purple headdress style turban that was sewn into the breastplate of your suit. The paj ntaub, or the flower cloth- making your purple headdress style turban stand out from the blackness of your tac suit. A soft Hmong song was playing in Tony’s lab. Usually, Tony loved listening to AC/DC while upgrading everyone’s things. But sometimes, he liked listening to the people’s individual songs, just to get into the feels of whatever he was upgrading.

For Romanov’s stuff, he listened to Russian songs. For you, he listened to Hmong songs. For Clint, he listened to Neil Diamond, because Clint was a huge fan. Clint had been super jealous when you told him you had seen him in concert once.

“You saw him in concert once? That’s totally unfair!” Steve had heard Clint complain. You snickered from where you were laying on Steve and Bucky’s laps. All draped out lazily without any care in the world.

“Technically, my mom got tickets to go from her principal. She asked my dad, but he wasn’t feeling well. My sister said no. So she just asked me on our way home.” you remembered that. The two of you had been in the car when your mom had pleaded with you, telling you that technically, there were two tickets, and since your sister had already said no, and your dad was drunk out of his mind, it was just you.

“It was nice. I really liked the concert. I got to do that thing people do with their phones. Y’know, where they turn their flashlights on and they wave their phones around? Yeah… that was interesting…”

“What, you don’t go out often?” Clint questioned you. He was curious. But he wouldn’t push any boundaries. You shook your head no. “Nah. I was really sheltered as a kid. Before I joined the Avengers, the only time I’d get to go out was with my friends. Joining the Avengers is like, the most I’ve gone out. Seriously. I’ve never been this social. Or had this much many friends before.”

Which Steve and Bucky knew. You were very introverted. It had taken months upon months for you to make friends with everyone. Even Doctor Cho. Tony’s extrovert self had freaked you out upon first meeting. It had nearly made you screech. It had made you very uncomfortable.

Now though, you were comfy with everyone. Your presence made everyone happy. You were like the little light in the group. Always bringing snacks. Lots and lots of snacks.

“But, oh my god, you wanna know the worst part?” Clint grinned.

“I’ve never so many old white people in my life. I swear. I was surrounded by OG’s. So so many OG’s. Like-” You threw your hands up in the air while Clint burst out laughing. You turned to look back up at Steve and Bucky, and they were smiling down at you so sweetly it made your heart want to burst out of your chest.

“… Why did you host a gala without telling us?”

The music was paused. Which, bummed Tony out a bit. He was getting all amped up for the Hmong dance song that was going to come on after this one.

Sighing.

Sighing had come from Tony. As if he had been preparing for this moment. “Spangles, you and Robo-Cop were going on a mission when Sam and Natasha suggested it. You two wouldn’t have made it anyway. So why bother? I know you guys don’t’ even like that stuff.”

Steve and Bucky weren’t going to admit it, but Tony had a point.

“Besides, we won’t be having one for a while. Cheer up. I’m sure you’ll hear it from Romanov. Eagle was really the star of the show.” Tony tap tapped his Pad. Resuming the music as he made shooing motions with his hand towards the two supersoldiers.

Feeling uneasy, Steve and Bucky pulled out their Stark Phones as soon as the door to Tony’s lab closed behind them. Courtesy of Tony telling FRIDAY to shut it, of course.

It turned out to be a video. From whoever had filmed it, you were dancing with Sam. Loud laughter and loud cheering greeted the two.

“… Oh my god, spin her around, Sam!” Steve and Bucky heard Clint shout. Loud cheers erupted when Sam happily spun you around.

It wasn’t Sam spinning you around that made them nearly drop their phones.

No.

It was the fact that you were dressed in a Fifties Swing Dress. Whoever shot the video clearly had an iPhone. Hence the HD quality of the video. Your hair was curled and it tousled down your shoulders. They couldn’t pick up the shimmery eye shadow color on your eyelids, but they could see the red lipstick Natasha had put on you. Or that you put on yourself. Your kitten heels entered the shot as Sam spun you around. The camera caught your smile. Bucky and Steve saw you laughing. Throwing your head back happily.

“… Hey, Cap?”

Sam was right in front of them. His eyebrow raised. Steve and Bucky hurriedly shut off their phones.

“Fury needs you in the debriefing room. You too, Cyborg. You better now. Brother’s bout to call HQ to come and get you guys.” said Sam.

“That dress…”

Sam looked at Bucky. Bucky had opened his phone and was looking at the Fifties Swing Dress you had been wearing.

“Look at it, Stevie… we bought that. We bought that dress for her.”

“Are you sure you want to wear that one?”

Natasha was sitting on your bed as you pulled out that Fifties Swing Dress out from the deep depths of your closet.

“I’m not wearing anything that’s coming out of your closet,” was what you shot back at her, your back turned, facing the redheaded assassin.

To which Natasha just rolled her eyes.

As if that was going to make things any better.

It wasn’t, but she’d like to think that it did.

You were looking at the dress, memories filling you. You remembered dragging Bucky and Steve to the mall, determined to find a new dress. It had taken you hours upon hours, but then you had stumbled into a vintage store. Suddenly you had way more energy to do dress shopping. Plus, Steve and Bucky with their expertise, could help you sort through all of the vintage-inspired dresses.

Finally, after what had seemed like forever, the three of you had decided on the dress that you were now holding in your hands. Clutching it tightly as if it were your lifeline.

“You know you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. We can choose one of your other dresses.”

Natasha had gotten up, putting a hand on your shoulder. You were still looking down at the dress.

Your mind completely made up. You lifted your head up before you turned to look at her.

“No. I want to wear this one.”

Natasha still looked at you.

“Are you sure?”

A single nod came from you.

“Yeah. One last hurrah, I guess. Hey- help me with my makeup too? I can’t seem to get that red lipstick right…” you were already pulling your shirt over your head. Natasha softly shook her head in fondest.

“Yeah- hold on. I’ll help.”

“From what I know, Babygirl was thinking of selling it on Etsy this morning. Romanov told her no though. Said it was too pretty to sell. So- it’s back in the closet.”

FRIDAY’s disembodied voice echoed through the speakers that Tony had installed in the Compound.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes- Director Fury requests your presence in the debriefing room, please.”

Steve gave Sam one last look before Bucky tugged him by his arm, silently walking away. Sam watched the two of them go, before shaking his head.

“She’s the light of our lives my ass.”

In the present day…

You were so sleep-deprived.

Dark rings were under your eyes. You hadn’t even had time to smack some concealer under your eyes because you had realized you had slept in a bit, and in the haste to get out of bed, you nearly twisted one of your ankles in the process.

Not only that but your eyes were rimmed red from crying your eyes out all night.

Running down the halls of the Avengers Compound, phone in hand as you booked your flight back home in Fresno, because of your grandfather’s funeral.

Yawg had been sick for a long time. Nearly a decade now. You hadn’t been there to see him go. But in the evening, Eastern time just a few nights ago, your mother had called you, saying that he had passed in his sleep.

At least, Yawg had passed peacefully. With most of his immediate family by his side.

You regretted not being there when it had happened.

You should’ve been there.

You were his granddaughter, for fucks sake! You were immediate family! You’d have to wear the pin with the flower on whatever black clothing you were going to wear for the funeral. You just knew all of the things your family members would say to you once you got there.

Why weren’t you there when grandpa passed?

Where were you when grandpa passed?

Why are you still working?

Why didn’t take time off to see grandpa?

Suffice to say, you were not ready to deal with the music just yet.

When the door to the debriefing room opened, Wanda was the first to stand. Sensing your distress, and your red-rimmed eyes.

“Are you alright?”

Her arms wrapped around you protectively. You were able to smell her perfume. It honestly made you sigh.

You had really, really missed Wanda.

“S-Sorry,” you managed to choke out, “I-I’m… I’m okay. Really. I just… my grandpa just passed away a few days ago. I’m- I’m flying out in a few days to help out with the funeral planning. Finding a burial site… helping with the flower arrangements… finding a funeral home for the funeral… going back to… see family. I haven’t uh, I haven’t seen them for a long time. Avenging. You know.”

The number one thing you loved about Wanda was that the other redhead never coddled you. She never fussed or treated you like you were fragile. She knew when to speak and comfort, and when people needed to be left alone, she’d give them the space to do so. Wanda only gave you a nod in understanding.

You tried to avoid Steve and Bucky’s looks of concern. You were really fighting the urge to bite down on your tongue in anger.

“R-Right… well… I’m going to tell Fury about the news. Sam, can you fill me in on the debriefing later during lunch? Thanks.” And then you were outta there like someone had just announced Santa Claus was making his yearly rounds around the Compound.

Steve and Bucky were alerted by Wanda slamming her hands on the table loudly. Making everyone nearly jump. Wanda’s eyes were narrowed and nearly glowing red.

“Steve. Bucky. Care to tell me why she felt so distressed? I know it’s not just because her grandpa just died. I also noticed you two weren’t with her. And if gossip’s right, you haven’t been with her in six months. So you better had spilled the tea or else, I will look into your minds. And I am far from asking permission. I do not care if it hurts you. I will pick your brains apart like how Stark picks away at his inventions. Now. Talk.”

Ever since coming to America from Sokovia with her older brother Pietro, the Romani-Jewish twins had slowly lost their thick accents. But in times where they were angry, it would come back full force.

Like now.

Bucky licked his lips nervously. Like he was almost jittery in his seat. Almost as if he was back in Sunday School again and had just gotten busted by his Sunday School teacher. Wanda cocked her head to the side, making a hand gesture for either one of them to just get to it.

“We…” Bucky swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “we broke with her… six months ago.”

It took so much of Wanda’s self-restraint that she didn’t nearly yeet them out the window.

“If it wasn’t for the laws of this land…” hissed Wanda, “I would’ve thrown you two away like garbage!”

Nearly everyone in the room nearly jumped again when Wanda smacked her hands down on the table in her fury. “She used to tell me how much she loved the two of you! You two put her back together! You two made her whole again! And you just disgraced her and threw her away like she was a dog to be put down! You two were the most selfless people I had ever met in my life! How dare you be so cruel! If it weren’t for the laws of America I would’ve banished you two to another dimension and left you there! She wanted to spend the rest of her life with you and you two what? Tossed her away and only thought of yourselves! I should take her out clubbing! If anything, she deserves to get laid!”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Steve spoke lowly. Tony moved out of the way when Wanda did her hand motion, red chaos magic lifting the two supersoldiers up into the air. Bucky and Steve wiggled, trying to get free.

“How dare you! She is not your property! She is not some dog you order around! Do not test me, Steven! I will make your lives a bigger living hell than they already have been. I will throw the two of you in the Arctic and let you freeze forever this time. Do you want to go back into the freezer? Do you? Huh? Do you? Stop fucking with me!”

“Shit, I should’ve brought my popcorn,” Tony whispered to Clint.

“And to think she wanted to buy a Townhouse for you three to live in. What a waste of money that would’ve been.”

Both Steve and Bucky grunted when Wanda smacked them both back down to the ground.

Tony did a spit take. He even coughed to cover up his shock.

“A… Townhouse?”

Surprisingly, it was Natasha who looked at Bucky, who had managed to pick himself off of the floor and back into his own chair. Giving her old teacher the absolute evil eye. “The day you and Tweedle Dumber dumped her Yasha, she was about to tell you about a Townhouse in Brooklyn she was thinking of buying for the three of you to live in together. Obviously,” she sent the two a scathing look of pure loathing, “it didn’t end well. So she canceled her application. Someone else got the Townhouse. Come to think of it… Sam… did she tell you about the apartment yet? I saw it when she showed me. It looked really nice. You think she could fit a Chinese divider in there?”

This time, it was Steve who choked. “She’s moving?”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“No Captain Dumbass,” Tony snapped at from where he was sitting, “She’s been thinking about moving out so she doesn’t have to see your ancient fossil faces anymore. It’s not like she has to live here to be an Avenger. Maximoff and Vision live in New Jersey and they come to the Compound every day. It’ll just be the same thing, except she’ll be in Queens looking after the Spider Boy.”

“And don’t give me that face you broken white boy,” Tony went on, seeing the offensive look on Bucky’s face, “you deserve everything hashed at you. So don’t give me that face.”

The door opened. You walked back in, an awkward look on your face when you saw everyone looking at you. Clearly, they had not gone through the debriefing.

At all.

“Hey guys… what’d I miss?”

“No… mom… please. Not this again.”

Steve and Bucky were making their way back to their room.

You were on the phone with your mother.

The team had expressed their sympathies and even asked if you needed extra support, that they would fly with you. Take a few months off, because you were staying through the Christmas holidays, through the Hmong New Year. You hadn’t gone in years, because of the Avengers, and you desperately had wanted to go back. But, you had kindly declined all of their requests.

Deep in your heart though, you had been wishing that either Steve or Bucky had asked to go too. But the boys were quiet, only looking at you.

It had left you with some sort of self-loathing.

Why had you wanted their input?

They didn’t deserve their input in this fucking conversation.

Why were you still caring?

And why had they looked at you like they had just lost their frigging cat? Like someone had died?

Pacing around your room, still on the phone, you heard your door opening.

“No- mom, I- I can’t, mom. Mom? Mom?”

“Auntie!”

Little Grace’s voice echoed from the other line.

“Hey, Gracie. How are you, baby? Are you doing okay? I know your surgery's next week… are you excited? Scared?”

By the time you managed to look up, Steve and Bucky had walked into your room. Still dressed in their uniforms. If it were like the old days, your thighs might’ve clenched.

They saw your thighs clench. It was almost a subconscious feeling. Your gaze went back to the floor as you resumed talking with your niece.

“M’ scared, Auntie. Will you be there? Will you sign my cast when I get out of the hospital?” Grace’s voice shook. “Of course, baby. I’ll be there until you get out.” You assured her.

“Promise?”

“I promise, sweetie.”

“Auntie… you missed my birthday this year.”

A sad look overcame your face. Steve and Bucky didn’t need to hear what was making you sad. They had supersoldier hearing after all.

“I… I know I did, baby. But being an Avenger is… it’s a rough business. I don’t really get days off, you know.” You tried to joke, to make the conversation more light-hearted, but the haunted look wouldn’t leave your eyes.

“Are the Avengers nice? Are they coming to the funeral? I always wanted to meet Captain America! And the Winter Soldier too! Cause they used to be disabled. Like me!” Grace’s tone brightened significantly.

Steve and Bucky hadn’t known that. They knew you had a niece, but they hadn’t known that your niece was disabled. They opened their mouths to say something, but you made a motion that told them to shut up with your hand.

“I… well, I guess you can ask them. Cause they’re here. With me.” You offered awkwardly. Pressing the button that allowed your niece to be on speaker, Grace gasped loudly. “Oh my gosh! Captain America! White Wolf!” Grace clapped happily on the other line. “M’ a big fan! You guys are my role models! Mr. White Wolf, I did my paper on you! My Auntie helped me out!”

Your lips were pursed in a line, and your hand was shaking. You had FaceTimed Grace the entire time, helping her write her paper. It had been easier then because you had been dating the boys.

And now hearing it all over again just made your heart clench in your chest. Like you had just seen a ghost.

“… Everybody was talking about doing Captain America. It was so boring Mr. White Wolf. So I did you! I got an A! An A+!” Grace said excitedly. “O-Oh…” said Bucky, as he looked at you in concern, “that’s great, Grace. I’m proud of you.”

“Can you come? Come over here? I don’t want my Auntie to be sad. She talks about you two a lot.”

You froze.

“… Like, she talks about how in love she is with you two. Like the way your eyes lit up when you guys won her that stuffie that you guys got from Coney Island for your first date.”

They remembered that.

Coney Island hadn’t really changed from how it was during their time. Sure, the hot dogs hadn’t tasted quite the same, but the atmosphere was still the same. They almost felt like they were at home.

“You told her that?” Bucky asked you in Russian. “Told her everything bout us. Well,” you tried to not chuckle bitterly, “almost everything.” You made sure to draw out the “almost” part. You even gave the metal-armed supersoldier a glare before returning back to your conversation.

“I’ll ask them for you, okay? Make sure you do all of your schoolwork. Education’s important, sweetheart. Okay? Tell your mom I said hello.”

“Yes, Auntie. I’ll see you later, okay?”

There was a shift on the other line.

“How long are you staying?”

Your mother was back.

You released a small sigh. Beginning to talk in Hmong, because you knew the boys, even though they had tried hard to learn your language, couldn’t still speak it fluently.

“Well, I have the Christmas holidays off. I already told Director Fury that I wouldn’t be going on any more missions. So I can spend the next two months, up until you guys go back to school in January. So… almost three months. Should be enough time to see all the family again. Even the ones I don’t like… you know how Uncle Pao was with the Sokovia Accords. Especially with me being on the Avengers.”

You couldn’t help but sigh again.

Your family had been torn when you had decided to pack up your life, moving all the way from Fresno to New York. All the way across the country, by yourself. Helping to save the world on a daily basis. You didn’t have the supersoldier serum, you weren’t a genius inventor, you weren’t a God, heck you couldn’t even transform into a big green giant. Forget having super-speed like Pietro, Wanda’s older twin brother. Or having Wanda’s mutant abilities.

You were just a normal girl who was very trained with weapons. You had trained with weapons and arsenal as a young child. Thoughts of even joining the military had joined your mind. Your uncle was in the Navy, you might’ve even had the slightest chance of seeing him maybe.

Then you had landed on SHIELD’s radar. You hadn’t joined the academy, but you had made friends with Natasha Romanov due to one of her almost gone wrong missions. When Loki tried taking over the universe, you had suited up and joined the Avengers.

Needless to say, your family had been really iffy about your new superhero status. Your younger cousins though? They were very excited and told all their friends how their cousin/sister/aunt/grandma was a superhero. An Avenger! It certainly made you Cousin of the Year.

“… And then not to mention our current orange President... you know how he feels about us… he was threatening to draft a new one… I don’t wanna go through that shit again mom…”

Steve and Bucky were only picking up pieces of your conversation. Which was exactly why you were speaking in your native tongue.

Especially for this next part.

“I don’t think you should bring them along. They broke your heart for goodness sake. You wouldn’t stop crying for days.” Your mother remarked. “I just stopped last week,” you said in a form of protest. Your mother sighed on the other line. “Exactly. You just stopped last week. You sobbed over them for days. They broke your heart. Besides, what could they do at the funeral, hmm? They don’t know our family. You said it yourself, your Uncle Pao would never approve.”

“Okay first off, they could carry stuff. They’re supersoldiers, mom. And if it makes you feel any better, maybe they can find some other girl who’s my age to warm their bed. Okay? I’m sure there’s plenty of women my age who are single. Just like me. And you know Uncle Pao’s a people pleaser. He’ll suck up to them but then talk shit behind their back. Probably in English. We know he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.”

Your mother spoke your name. But you just rolled your eyes.

“Besides… I think it would be nice if they came. You know, for Grace. You know how much she loves them. Come on mom. Just let them stay at our house. You know they’re not gonna want to stay at a dingy hotel. Please. If not for me. Do it for your granddaughter.”

“… I hate it when you guilt trip me.” Your mother grumbled on the other line. You let out a snort.

“Yeah, now you know how it feels, huh mom?”

“You may be older, but I still can ground you, Mes.”

“Mo-m,” You whined, “come on, not my Hmong name, mom.”

“Keep up that sass and I will ground you.”

“Mom!”

“I’ll see you home.”

Mom- ugh. Fine. Bye.”

The line went dead.

You sighed again in frustration. Steve and Bucky looked amused. You pointed at them with your phone. Scowling.

“Shut. Up.”

A couple of days later...

Your mother was patiently waiting for you at the airport.

You had texted her a couple of minutes ago, saying that the plane had landed. She didn’t mind taking her time, people liked cramming out of the plane. You usually sat and waited. Besides, your house was only a five-minute drive to and from the airport.

So there she stood in the luggage claiming area. Patiently waiting. You had texted her, saying that the three of you had to take a transfer flight. New York to Phoenix, and then Fresno.

Seven hours.

You were feeling a bit sluggish and jet-lagged. Compared to the boys, who had been awake the entire time. You had fallen asleep for nearly five hours on the flight from New York to Phoenix. And then you had taken an hour nap on the transfer flight.

So suffice to say that you were not feeling it.

Like at all.

Your mother waved at you when you had finally gotten your luggage. Embracing her felt like it had been a million years.

Which, it had been a while. Nearly eight years.

Your mother pursed her lips together when she saw Steve and Bucky. But, she was respectful.

“Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes. I hope the flight wasn’t any trouble?” Your mother’s voice was stoic. Steve, noticing your mother’s clipped tone, only nodded respectfully. “No ma’am. Tony hooked us up with first class.” Bucky just grumbled at that. You rolled your eyes as you dragged your luggage along.

“Fricking Tony,” was your grumble. Your mother raised an eyebrow. “First class? Phauj’s gonna be jealous.” You just gave her a scowl. “Phauj’s gonna be too busy staring at Steve’s ass to give a shit.” You told her bluntly. Steve’s ears turned pink. Bucky snickered. You couldn’t help it. The curves of your lips started curving up into a smile. Your mother caught the looks from Steve and Bucky.

They were looking at you as if you hung the moon and stars.

Her lips were still pursed in a line. She spoke.

“Watch your language.”

“Yeah Steve,” your tone made Bucky try to contain his laughter, “Watch your language.”

“One time!” Steve huffed. “It was one time!”

Your cackles followed the four of you out of the airport.

It had been a week since you and the boys had flown in. You were beginning to get settled in.

Today, you had decided to go to the Asian supermarket early in the morning. With you freshly showered, your face put on, you, along with Steve and Bucky, headed to the Asian market.

You were in search of snacks.

Lots and lots of snacks.

You were piling up all the snacks from your childhood that you couldn’t get in stores in New York in the basket.

Hello Panda?

Check.

Pocky?

Check.

That one Asian snack that you could dip into the other side and eat the filling?

Check.

The shrimp flavored chips?

Yup.

Later, you promised yourself that you would buy yourself some boba. Milk tea boba. At that nice boba place a few minutes away from the mall. You were giddy with excitement.

Steve and Bucky watched in astonishment as you casually chucked in the snacks in the basket. Happily humming to yourself.

You had already gotten your Hmong sausage with rice on the side that they sold here. It was in the take-out box in a bag, kept nice and close by Bucky. The two of them followed you around like obedient dogs. Since it was early in the morning, there would be no whispers following the three of you around. You happily bounced your way to checkout. After checking out, the three of you got in the car.

“Hand over the bag, Barnes. It’s time to eat.”

“Shouldn’t we just wait until we get home?” Bucky was miffed.

You made a noise deep in your throat.

“No!”

Such force in your made the boys shrink back a little. Pushing the white bag down, you opened the take-out box and took out the plastic fork that was also put in the bag.

Sniffing at the Hmong sausage, you sighed in happiness.

“They don’t have this stuff in New York, you know. They got this stuff in Minnesota too, but I rarely go there. I went there once for my uncle’s funeral on my mom’s side. But I didn’t really travel much. Can’t really go to Asian stores in New York and find Hmong sausage these days.”

You stabbed the sausage with your fork, and happily put it in your mouth. Chewing and leaning back against the driver’s seat. Happily sighing again.

“And the snacks?”

You peered your eyes up through the mirror. Steve and Bucky were in the backseat, looking at you attentively.

“Nu-uh,” was your response. “You can buy those snacks at the Asian stores in New York, but cha can’t buy the Hmong sausages.” You snuck a piece of rice in your mouth. Chewing.

It was like you were reliving your childhood all over again.

Steve and Bucky wanted to badly say that they were sorry. But you seemed so happy, so in tune with losing yourself in childhood memories, that they couldn’t do it.

So they didn’t.

Your phone started to ring. They watched as you answered it with your other hand.

“Hey! What’s up? Oh… yeah… I’m coming here for vacation… uh-huh… yeah… I’m staying until school starts again, then I’m going back to New York… yeah… oh, you guys wanted to hang out? That’s fine… yeah I’m available later this week, yeah… no, tell Erika I’m not getting her a Captain America autograph.” They saw you roll your eyes.

“Hey. Just cause I work with em doesn’t mean I get certain shit for free, okay? Alright, fine. I’ll try. Geez… alright. Okay. Okay. Yup. Wednesday works for me. Alrighty. Kay. Bye!”

You hung up. Then your face fell.

Steve and Bucky didn’t like that.

Not one bit.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked you. Your jaw tightened.

“How do you feel about visiting my dad?”

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting, @hawsx3

#stucky x reader #stucky x asian!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x asian!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x asian!reader

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