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captainsimagines · 2 years

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the warmth of the future || one

Summary: It’s been two years since you fell in love with Bucky Barnes, and the holidays are just around the corner. With even more love, more friends, and more family in attendance, you and Bucky fully intend to enjoy these days with as little drama as possible. But that’s not always the case with a relationship like yours, is it?

Pairing: DBF James “Bucky” Barnes x (Fem) Reader

Based on the Song: ‘Willow’ by Taylor Swift

Warnings: strong language; age difference kink; exhibitionism; anal fingering (Bucky receiving); blowjob; unprotected sex

Word Count: 7,160+

Author’s Note: Oh, I’m so ready for the holidays this year. Can’t wait for you guys to start this mini-series! I love these characters just as much as you do, and after so many messages this year about this fanfic in particular, I just had to make a mini sequel. I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy and get into the early holiday spirit.

“I take back what I said before. You’re probably going to die by getting hit by a fucking bus.”

The sound of the horn near you is impossible to recover from. You know Bucky heard that over the phone. Still, you continue to sidestep several pedestrians and another taxi, running to the subway. A few weeks ago you two theorized the craziest possible ways you both would die. Bucky bet you’d be abducted by aliens and killed for being so annoying. You bet he would die by falling off a train in the icy Austrian Alps. “Funny, Barnes. Excuse me for being excited for Christmas break.”

Bucky scoffs gently. “So excited you can’t look both ways before you cross the street?”

You’ve navigated New York streets for years now. You know every crack, every turn, by heart. “You want me home on time, or no?”

Bucky grumbles, “Just get home in one piece.”

Home. It seemed like Bucky’s two-bedroom above his bar was more of a home than your own apartment. You spent more time in Brooklyn than you did Manhattan. Peter had practically bullied you about how much money you were wasting on rent. And you were, no doubt. It was a pain to wake up in Brooklyn and have to travel to Manhattan for work, but you did it anyway. And besides, it made sense. Bucky works nights, so him staying the night in Manhattan was illogical.

But home. That was wherever Bucky was. Warm beside him and wrapped up safely. This would be your third Christmas together, the third you’re spending together back home with your dad. It feels like a tradition now. Bucky had tried convincing his sister, Becca, to join this year but she planned an impromptu cruise with her fiancé instead.

Bucky didn’t blame her, though. It was her engagement present apparently.

This time, Bucky had rented a car and you two would be driving down today. With your assistant tagging along. Not because you were working this holiday break, but because Peter Parker had nowhere else to go in the city. His aunt died this year and this would be his first holiday season without close family to celebrate with. Peter was going to meet you at your apartment, but you were running late, and Bucky was calling to scold you for it.

I’ll put the book down after chapter fifty, I promise.

That promise is stale, Doll. I know you.

I prooooomise.

You had not, indeed, kept that promise and read all the way to chapter sixty today. But you had to. This was Loki Laufeyson’s third book in his insanely popular trilogy. It’s an impossible read to put down.

The reception becomes spotty the deeper you go into the subway station.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get home in one piece. Hey Bucky, would you love me if I was a worm?” The group of teenage girls swiping their Metrocards giggle beside you.

“We’re not doing this again. Get home.”

Rolling your eyes for no one to see, you bid him goodbye.

Another holiday with your family, another holiday with your friends, another holiday with the love of your life. How could life possibly get better than this?

Life did have ways of planting the smallest mishaps. Take the snow for example: Did Bucky know driving in the snow was such a major pain in the ass? He figured. Did he listen to your warnings about having to buy chains for the tires earlier? Nope.

One gas station, Peter’s googling of instructions, and an hour wasted putting the damn chains on later, you finally passed the town sign welcoming you home.

Your childhood town looked the same. It always looked the same. Feelings of nostalgia, scents of cinnamon, and an overall sense of calm quickly settled into your stomach as Bucky drove through town. Leaning your head out the window, you grinned widely as the car passed Wanda and Pietro’s flower shop, closed for lunch. Half of you wanted to fly out the car and bust down the door. The other half really wanted to see your dad first. A four hour drive was nothing with a good playlist and some burgers on the way down.

Once you finally pulled up to your dad’s house, you flew out of the passenger seat before Bucky had the chance to put the car in park. He followed less quickly as you, but his face showed his contained excitement. “It looks like the whole crew got here before us—”

Bucky’s voice floats away as your body slams onto the icy grass. “Oof!”

Clint squeezes tightly, his body weight compressing you into a smooshed pancake. “You’re here!”

“My…lungs…”

Bucky’s boot comes into view. “Get off my girl, Barton.”

“You get to see her every single day! Let me have this!”

Struggling, you shimmy like a worm and try your hardest not to touch anything intimate on the giant squishing you. “Clint. Remove…yourself!”

Your boyfriend’s loud sigh precedes his show of strength. Grabbing Clint by the collar of his winter jacket, Bucky yanks him upward and drops him on a high pile of snow. “Idiot.”

Clint’s laugh is interrupted by Pietro’s loud announcement of, “We’ve started decorating already!”

Sitting up, you dust snow from your elbows as best you can. “Without me?”

“We had extra hands,” Pietro reveals, grinning like a mad man. Before you can ask, a muscled body steps from the front door and onto the porch, wearing too little layers for the temperature outside.

“Steve!” Bucky exclaims, abandoning both you and Clint in the snow to run to his best friend. “You lied about visiting your mom!”

Steve runs a hand down the back of his neck, instantly turning red. He meets Bucky at the bottom of the porch and shares that clap-on-the-back slash bro-hug. “She decided to spend it with her partner’s kids and let me know a week ago.”

You huff as you stand, now dusting off your ass. “We had lunch a week ago.”

He meets your eye over Bucky’s shoulder. “And I didn’t exactly lie. Just omitted the truth.”

“Big fat liar.”

Steve ignores you, completely accustomed to your sarcasm and kindergarten insults. His attention returns to Bucky, as you turn your attention to Clint.

“Sometimes I think you want to kill me.”

Clint snorts, “I’m not that heavy. You’re just small.”

He accepts the shove to his shoulder. Clint would never admit it, but he acts this way because he’s an only child. By teasing you, Kate, and Wanda, he’s able to channel all that big brother energy somewhere. Why only you three? No one knows. Pietro is the same age and yet, receives Clint’s best friend energy. Maybe Clint Barton was destined to be a girl-brother—like a girl dad. The words sound stupid in your head as you repeat it.

He pulls your mini-suitcase from the trunk just as Peter emerges, shy as always around new people. “Clint, this is Peter Parker! He’s my assistant, but for the next week he’s just a friend! Got it?”

Clint barely acknowledges a single word you said besides the formal introduction. He shakes Peter’s hand and welcomes him to town, pointing back at the house as Peter lugs his own suitcase forward. With the snow, the pink of his cheeks, and his raggedy bag, Peter Parker fits in perfectly. As if the town gave its blessing.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you like Steve?” Clint asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Uh,” you mumble, pulling Bucky’s suitcase out. “Ten. He’s been in my life since the beginning.”

Clint nods, a thin smile spreading across his face. Adjusting his hearing aid, he says, “Please let me know the new number when he tells you.”

“Huh?” But Clint’s already running back into the house, carrying your suitcase over his head. He’s lucky his dumbass didn’t slip on the driveway.

When you finally go inside, your dad and Sam are nowhere in sight. You can vaguely hear them near the back of the house, though. Steve is in the kitchen alone, chugging some water and Bucky gone.

“Why am I going to hate you?” you ask, setting your purse down on the dining room table. It’s littered with holiday decorations. Paper snowflakes, red and green candles, baking utensils.

Steve smirks, wiping his mouth. “I’m staying in your room.”

Your brows furrow. “Where the hell are Bucky and I supposed to sleep?”

“Oh, you’re staying in your room, too! Bucky gets the guest room.”

There it is.

“Wha—”

“Your dad isn’t taking any chances this time.”

Huh? What kind of joke was this? A cruel game Steve, Sam, and your dad must have come up with before you even entered the damn town, probably. “I’ve been dating the guy for two years! Of course we fuck!”

Steve purses his lips, eyes widening. “Oh, don’t worry, I know!” Sarcastic, loud, sonofabitch. “Fucking know well enough, too!”

One time. One damn time he walked in on you. “Don’t be jealous.”

He blinks. “Jealous?”

“You want to join? Just ask.”

Steve dramatically slaps his chest as he goes to grip at his heart. “I’m going to throw up in my mouth. Then I’m going to spit it on you.”

“Kinky.”

“You little—”

“Bumblebee!”

Your dad practically sprints into the kitchen, arms stretched wide. You jump up and down as you grip him tightly. “Dad!”

“The drive okay? You hungry?”

“Yes and no! How are you? How’s Monica?”

Your dad flushes at the mere mention of his girlfriend’s name. “Great. She’ll be here for the party.”

He swings you around twice, surprisingly strong for a man who works at a desk nowadays. Sam smiles brightly at the sight. “Gosh, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, but that’s diminishing by the second. What’s this about you barring my boyfriend from my bedroom?”

Sam shoves Steve when he starts cracking up, scolding him. Your dad scrunches his face. “Bumblebee, the horror stories I’ve heard from your friends! From my friends! I understand young love—well, young and middle-aged love, really—but I have more guests staying here this season than just you! I’m being considerate.”

You grimace, then gag dramatically. “I don’t know what frightens me more. The fact that my own father views me as a sex-crazed monster or that I’m sharing a room with Captain Rogers.”

“I trust Steve. He’ll make sure no one goes in or out of that room.”

Steve continues to silently laugh behind Sam, who’s trying hard not to break himself. “Have I done something to you? Am I finally being rightfully punished for stealing one of your friends?”

Your dad scoffs playfully, pulling you in for a side hug. You hang limp, a bodily protest. “No, but now that you mention it, the punishment fits the crime.”

Steve pulls you from your dad, side-hugging you as well. “Don’t worry, pal. I’ll make sure she gets her full eight hours of sleep.”

“Suck my tit, Steve.”

“I’d rather not.”

Bucky chooses that moment to join the squabble, Clint and Pietro following close behind. “What’s happening?”

Shoving Steve away, his waist hitting the corner of the kitchen countertop, you disregard his yelp for Bucky’s attention. “Oh, Bucky, it’s horrible! It’s Romeo and Juliet all over again!”

“I may have missed the first time we lived that story,” Bucky says, his head tilting.

“We’re being separated! You and I are no more! The house is split!”

Steve groans, clutching at his side. His voice comes out gravely. “If it’s any consolation, I’m on your side, man.”

“It was my idea,” Sam offers, raising a hand. Looking back at him, he shoots you a cocky smirk.

“Sam…You traitor.”

“You’ll see each other all day. The nights aren’t going to kill you—”

“Shut up, Tybalt.”

Bucky gives you an unimpressed look. He’ll hype your Romeo and Juliet character reference later, but for now he needs to diffuse the situation.

He heard the conversation. He knows what you’re complaining about. Hell, he wants to complain too. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of his head telling him, Hey Bud. Remember that time one of your good friends invited you over during the holidays and you proceeded to fuck his daughter in every depraved position, every single night, while he was sleeping two doors over?

So he surrenders. “How about we continue with the decorations, yeah?”

“Why is it that you never fight by my side when my dad is involved?” you whine.

He clears his throat, smiling that white-person smile at your dad. “Either I stay on his good side and continue being with his beautiful daughter, or we duel and he wins.”

Your dad accepts this. “You earn some points with me by saying I’d win.”

Beside you, you feel Bucky relax instantly. Giving him the side-eye, you notice Peter emerging from the bathroom over his shoulder.

“Dad! This is Peter, my assistant!” Dragging Peter by the shoulders and presenting him like one would their greatest achievement, Peter holds out a timid hand.

“Ah! This is the man who dodges my calls by saying you’re in a meeting,” your dad jokes, shaking his hand.

Something flashes in Peter’s eyes. Alarm, panic, dread. Who knows. “The meetings were real, sir.”

“Well, either way. The couch is all yours! The more the merrier.”

“Thank you for having me, sir.”

“Everyone is welcome in my house! I try to be a good host.”

With those words, Peter’s eyes immediately soften. “Well, I’ve no longer got family in the city so this is a real honor.”

You notice how the words affect everyone. This tradition has run in your family since you were born—since before. It was an unspoken thing that everyone would convene at your dad’s house. Even if it wasn’t the largest, and people had to share beds, and everyone had to chip in for beer. But there was something about the fireplace in the corner, showcasing nine stockings with everyone’s names on them. The Menorah that was missing its final candle. The smell of cookies and pie every single day of December.

To share this tradition with a new edition, even if Peter might decide not to return next holiday season, filled you with honor.

Your dad, the king of making others feel a part of the club, asks Peter, “What’s your menu like? I’ll send Bumblebee to the store later today.”

Can’t forget that tradition, either. It was always your job to get everyone’s groceries for the week.

“I’ll go with you,” Pietro volunteers. “We’ll pick up Wanda along the way.”

You hum in response. “Make a list. Oh, and Steve?”

Steve lifts an eyebrow.

“I like to fall asleep to whale sounds and the sounds of gorilla’s mating.”

Bucky quickly agrees, just to fuck with Steve. The man who’ll be sharing his girl’s room, it seemed. Something silent but feral was festering in the pit of his stomach, but Bucky chose to make a joke of it instead.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You two have slept away from each other before. You don’t see each other everyday.

So Bucky won’t let it get to him.

He won’t.

Promise.

“You’re forced to share a room with another magnificent and stunning male?” Peggy laughs, clearly entertained by the news you’ve shared. Peggy follows you down the aisle with a basket in hand, waving off Pietro’s constant asks of carrying it for her. Wanda swipes the listed items off the shelves into the cart with impressive speed, only half-listening to the conversation. “I don’t see the problem!”

“I’m with Bucky.”

“So?”

“And it’s monogamous.”

Peggy huffs, “Then strike everything I would have said you do if you were me.”

“I personally don’t understand why Steve has to stay in your room anyway,” Pietro interjects. “Like, there are two couches in the living room.”

“Sam is taking one.”

“Then why not have Steve bunk with Bucky?”

Wanda twirls, a box of sugar cookies in her grip. “I can answer this one! Because even though Bucky slept with his daughter, our little Bumblebee is being scolded now. Your dad is getting revenge.”

So by having Steve bunk with you, it’s essentially torture…for you. Because you’ll have to be the one to sneak out if you dare; you’ll be the one dealing with Steve’s horrendous snoring; you’ll be the one who has to go down the stairs. It was brilliant. Evil and brilliant.

“Revenge? After two years?”

Peggy chuckles, moving her basket from Pietro’s reach again. “Fathers. Always such rascals. My father turned a blind eye and I loved him more for it.”

“My father isn’t turning a blind eye. He’s actively engaging in separating us.”

“I think it’s fucking funny,” Pietro admits, covering his mouth. “Sorry, Peggy.”

Peggy waves him off. “I think it’s fucking funny, too.”

“So, what?” Wanda scoffs, throwing a package of napkins in the cart. “So you’re separated for a week. You don’t have to fuck in the house. There are other places!”

��Wanda!”

“No, no, she’s right on that front!” Peggy admits. “Kate’s bar, the gym Clint attends, the motel!”

You groan, leaning down against the cart. Your chin rests on your folded arms and your back is at an awkward angle. “To stay at a motel like last summer? Then my father will know what we’re doing. And that makes my insides twist.”

“You’re young and you keep your man young. If fucking is the solution, then find a way to accomplish it.”

Pietro sends Peggy an incredulous look, frozen in place as the three of you pass him by. “Does she always speak like that?”

“Address me, dear. I can speak for myself.”

“Okay,” Pietro says, blinking a few times. “Do you always speak like that?”

“Only on Tuesdays.”

Pietro does the mental calendar-hopping in his head. Peggy Carter was the resident grocery store customer you formed an odd friendship with two Christmases ago. She had been outspoken then, and she’s definitely outspoken now. Just because she reigns supreme in age doesn’t mean that all she says and suggests is wise. Sometimes you wonder how she even got past her fifties with her mindset.

“Anyways, that’s my problem right now. Bucky and I will get through it and I will smother Captain Rogers in his sleep. Done!”

Wanda giggles, “He’s cute, though.”

Pietro rounds on her. “No, no! Stop talking.”

“He’s big and handsome and totally not off-limits for me.”

Pietro looks as if he’s just witnessed a mass murder. “I…He’s old enough to be our dad.” Then to you, “No offense.”

“If he had us in his teens.”

Pietro literally whines, “Wanda, I beg you. Do not fuck the Captain.”

“Are you going to let him order you, love?” Peggy asks Wanda, eyebrows high.

Wanda smiles, teeth and all. “Nope!”

Pietro whines again, watching his sister skip down the aisle. He calls after you, so you twist around slowly. “Talk her out of it.”

You shake your head. “You laughed at my predicament. Your sister can fuck who she wants.”

Pietro grumbles as you all pay for the groceries, as you say goodbye to Peggy, and on the drive home. Wanda seems to be two seconds away from cackling.

“This town is so tiny. It’s like a Hallmark movie.”

You give Peter a side-smirk while also holding the door open for him. He enters the bookstore like he’s on a mission, looking for everything and nothing at once. You figure he’s only accompanying you because he’s got nothing better to do in a strange town. And if he is planning on buying you a Christmas present—because he has literally no one else besides Bucky to buy one for—he probably wouldn’t buy it now while you’re with him.

“There’s talk about combining it with the town next over. But that never goes down well for us small town folk.”

Peter scrunches his nose, shaking his head. “Every place has a personality. Combining two doesn’t guarantee a functioning third.”

“You’ve got the right.”

Two Christmases ago you had found Bucky a perfect first-edition about rejected Christmas tales. This time, however, you’re thinking something different. Last summer you had edited a book and included one of Bucky’s major plot suggestions…which made it into the final draft. Bucky doesn’t know, and getting the book for him seemed like a proper gift with meaning attached to it.

Peter watches you drift into the fantasy section. He huffs a laugh, “Another book? What are you guys? Like, 50?”

“You followed my ass into a bookstore. What did you expect? Besides, we’re both avid readers.”

“So get the dude a bookmark.”

“I’m gonna get you a bookmark, you ungrateful son of a bitch.”

Peter laughs again. He grabs a random book and inspects the cover. “What else have you gotten him? I remember you getting him a book last Christmas, too. Actually, for the past two Christmases you’ve known each other.”

“The first Christmas doesn’t count. I had literally just met him.”

“And you got him a book. What did you get him for Hanukkah?”

Anal. But you’re not about to tell your assistant that little tid-bit.

So you answer, “An appropriate gift.”

Peter shakes his head. "A book is a gift that says ‘I love you’, sure. But you need a gift that says ‘I love you, and I want to screw you forever but as husband and wife.'"

Eyes widening, you practically sprint the short distance over to cover his mouth with your hand. “Shhh!”

“What—What?” he mumbles behind it.

“Don’t you dare mention marriage in this town. The gossip will spread, and next thing you know you’re pregnant with your ex-boyfriend’s child, who may or may not be the actual father because you were plastered when you slept with three different guys that same night.”

Peter blinks, waiting a few seconds after you remove your hand from his face to speak. “That’s too specific to be made-up.”

You shrug. “Happened to a cousin of mine.”

“Did she have the kid?”

“I think so. Haven’t seen her in years—”

The sound of your name cuts off your sentence. That voice distinct—unmistakable. Turning, you’re half-convinced you imagined it. But no—there he is. Beautiful as ever, and so much older than the last time you saw him. Like Bucky, you had missed seeing him every time you visited. Two people passing through and yet, never reconnecting. The voice of the only man you dated from this town.

“Peter,” you sigh, astonished by the chance meeting.

“Yeah?” Peter answers, confused.

“No—Peter,” you say, pointing at the man walking toward you, a bright smile on his face. “Peter Quill.”

“And he is?”

Quill extends his arms out in joyful greeting, surprise written across every feature of his fine face. “Well, I’ll be damned. I’ve heard you’ve been visiting every Christmas since you got that fancy New York job!”

You accept his quick hug. “Ever since! How are you?”

“Same old, same old. Dad retired, so I manage the business now.”

“Oh, that’s great! You always wanted to be the boss!”

He runs a hand down the back of his neck, blushing. “It is great. But I want to hear about you! I haven’t seen you since—”

“Since high school graduation.”

He nods, looking you up and down. Not in a sleazy way, but in a way that conveys pure wonder. Like you were a flower that had withered and magically revived. “You’ve…grown.”

You snort softly, pointing at his chest. “Obviously, both of us did.”

He blushes again. “Well, hey. How about we meet up sometime this week and have dinner or something?”

“I was actually planning on going to Kate’s tomorrow night for the fundraiser. You should come!”

His face brightens as he accepts. “You know, I just might. I don’t remember the last time I just sat down and had a beer in public.”

“Contracting that much of a hard job?”

“I am the boss.”

Peter clears his throat beside you, a half-smile plastered on his face. A somewhat incredulous smile.

Knocked from your one-on-one, you instantly start introducing them. “Oh shit. Peter, this is Peter. Peter Parker, my assistant.”

Quill adopts a proud look. “Assistant? Damn, Bumblebee, you’ve been climbing that ladder.”

Quill was the first one out of your friends who began calling you Bumblebee for shits and giggles. Then Wanda and Kate followed, then Clint, then the whole universe. Guess you have Quill to thank for it, but it still made you squeal as a teenager. Now it just functions as a term of endearment.

Peter waves a bored hand through the air. “I don’t get her coffee if that’s what you’re imagining. I google shit for her.”

Quill nods reassuringly. “A very important job indeed.”

Peter purses his lips. “So, Peter—”

“Oh, I go by Quill. It’s been my nickname since…forever, really.”

“Quill…High school friends, then?”

Your eyes settle into a I know what the fuck you’re doing glance. As if daring Peter to investigate further.

But Quill gives him the answer he’s looking for. “We used to date.”

Peter bends forward, over-exaggerated amusement spilling from his literal pores as he slaps his palms against his knees. “Really!”

“Yeah, like ten years ago,” you deadpan.

“Still interesting news!”

Pursing your lips, you turn back to Quill. “Don’t mind him. He’s this close to being fired.”

Peter puffs, “Who else will close the blinds and lock your office door for you whenever Buck—”

Quickly, you pat Quill’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night, Quill. The festivities start at eight!”

He stares down at you, something raw flashing in his eyes. Something akin to eagerness. “Looking forward to it.” He takes whatever was in his hands and pays at the front counter, shooting you one final grin before exiting the store.

Peter steps in front of you, arms-crossed and expression smug. “You invited your ex-boyfriend to hang out with your friends and current boyfriend?”

“Hey, he’s Clint’s friend too! And Quill literally lives here.”

“Did Clint ever make out with him?”

You raise a hand to pinch your index and thumb together. “This close to being fired, Parker.”

He turns and skips down the aisle, ignoring your threat. “I feel like I’m in a movie! Small town, old boyfriend, current boyfriend, the holidays!”

Jogging to catch up to him, you basically abandon the thoughts of Christmas presents in order to convince the little shit he’s reading the situation wrong. “Nothing is going to happen with Quill ever again. Do you hear me?”

“Were you and I looking at the same man?”

Glaring, you promise, “Just because he bulked up doesn’t mean my panties are going to drop.”

“Ah, but you did notice he’s huge.”

You exit the store, leaving him a few feet back. “You’re fired.”

Dramatically, Peter presses, “But who will google the definitions of words that stump you when you’re editing?”

The air conditioner blasts around your hundredth sigh. And yet, it’s still not loud enough to mask the sound of Captain Steve fucking Rogers snoring on the floor at the foot of your bed.

What the fuck was your dad thinking? This was so fucking awkward for both you and Steve, obviously, but Steve was too good of a man to say anything. He was given the opportunity to play the protect our shared daughter from boys card, and he snatched that shit right up. Now you were cursed with his snoring practically in your ear, a personal assistant sleeping on the couch downstairs, and a boyfriend a whole staircase below you. A boyfriend that was probably wide awake and low key theorizing all the ways he’d kill Steve in the morning.

Because even though he trusts Steve, and Steve has obviously shared space with you before back in New York, the mere fact you’re alone with an attractive male who is not him must be eating at his self-control. Hell, it’s eating at you. It’s not fun when Steve plays the angel card. He’s much more fun when he fights back.

“Steve,” you whisper-yell, locking your muscles tight as you wait for a response. But the only verbal response you receive is another loud snore. “Steve.”

He doesn’t stir. Slowly, painstakingly slow—you slip from under the covers and tip-toe to the door. Looking back, you’re half convinced Steve will roll over and point with a loud declaration of, “Ha-ha! Got you!”

But the big lug snores and chokes, deep in whatever sedated dream he’s currently experiencing.

Rolling your eyes, you then step out into the hallway with the grace of a literal swan. Sidestepping the noisy wooden planks, avoiding breathing when you walk past your dad’s closed door, pausing between each stair on the way down. The second you touch the carpet, you silently cheer.

Now all you’ve got to do is pass Peter Parker and Sam Wilson. Which proves easy as well, considering Peter’s draped over one couch, on his stomach, with one leg out the blanket and a hand tangled in his hair. Out cold. Sam’s on his back, arm folded over his face, and snoring loudly.

Pulling your phone out of your pajama-shorts pocket, you send Bucky a text.

Open the door.

There’s no response, but there is the distinct sound of bedsheets ruffling and soft pads of feet across the floor.

Bucky opens the door, and the soft orange light shining behind him gives him such a lovely halo, such a gorgeous glow, that you’re tempered to fall to your knees and pray.

“I’m not dueling your dad,” he says, glaring and squinting at the same time.

“Then we’ll have to be quiet.”

He huffs, leaning his forehead against the doorframe. The door is only slightly cracked open, like he’s restraining himself. “Doll…”

“Please?” Because what else can you say?

“Fuck��We’ve gone a week celibate before. How is this any different?”

Biting your lip, you admit, “Everyone’s telling me that I can’t.”

Bucky smirks a little. “So, I’m forbidden fruit?”

Now you pull out the big guns. Still biting your lip, you tilt your head down—barely—and lift your right foot up—barely—so it looks like you’re faintly tempted to cross your legs. “Please.”

Bucky’s eyes slowly close, and his nostrils flare. He pulls you in, expertly shutting the door with a faint click. Immediately, you attack his lips, kissing him feverishly. Like you’ve forgotten his taste. Like you can’t get enough.

“Doll—“

“I want to fuck you.”

Sucking in a harsh breath, Bucky asks, “Yeah?”

You nod the best you’re able, your lips still pecking his. “Mm, I want to see if you can be quiet.”

Bucky detaches himself long enough to speak, his hands gripping your waist. “And here I was thinking you were a little cockslut for me today. But you actually want to make me beg for it.”

You whine softly in response.

“Torture, is what that is. Selfish, and evil.”

You didn’t even realize Bucky had been walking you toward the bed until he crashed into it, dragging your body onto his. With him splayed out underneath you, your fantasies grow supreme.

“It’s both. I want your cock inside me, but I want to see that look on your face you only get when I fuck you just right.”

Bucky’s hips hitch upward involuntarily. “God, I love you.”

With a small giggle, you lean down to nibble on his neck.

Was it dangerous to do this on the very first night? Not exactly. If you were caught, you would just be bullied to the ends of the earth because of it. You’ll be hearing this story even when you are old and in diapers. Your dad may have some choice words with you in the morning, and his gun would definitely make an appearance—aimed at Bucky, of course—but he’d get over it.

Yes, this whole exhibitionist thing you and Bucky have going on is the slightest bit rude. You’re a guest at your father’s house, not a resident. You don’t pay the mortgage. He asked this one simple thing of you for the duration of your stay: Do not share a room with your lover, one of my best friends, under my roof.

But are you respecting his wishes? No.

Does it feel naughty and so fucking nasty, though? Yes.

By the time you get to the, “Will I feel guilty in the morning?” internal bit, Bucky’s cock is deep inside your mouth, and you’ve been stripped of all of your clothes.

Bucky grips the bed sheets as hard as he can, his metal hand squeaking in the otherwise quiet room. His breathing is erratic, but not loud enough to warrant inspection.

Popping off him, you run your tongue from the base to the tip, swirling it around and sucking—one of Bucky’s favorite moves. His tip is the most sensitive part. And when you dip the tip of your tongue over his slit, Bucky nearly shouts. His flesh hand shoots down to grip your hair, half-trying to ball it into a ponytail and half-trying to move it out of the way in whatever direction he can.

“Fuck, look at those lips,” Bucky praises. His eyes meet yours when you look up at him, cock hard on your tongue, and his mouth drops from a sudden rush of tingling pleasure that hits the base of his stomach. “Fucking born to suck my cock, huh?”

With a few final long licks and deep sucks, you release his cock to stand from the bed. “Born to suck and fuck you, Barnes,” you giggle. “Did you bring the lube?”

Bucky rests his head against the pillow, chuckling softly toward the ceiling. “I brought it in case of a quickie and we wanted to skip your prep.”

Humming, you snap open the lid and walk back to the bed. You don’t miss the hungry look Bucky has as he visibly eats your figure up. Settling between his legs, you pat the outside of his right thigh. “Open up, sweetheart.”

“God,” Bucky quietly moans, and bends his knees. Spreading them farther apart, he presents himself to you. And fuck, is he a treat. Cock hard and red, dribbling against his lower abdomen. His balls locked tight, practically begging to be fondled. And his tight, puckered hole waiting for your fingers.

Spreading some lube onto your index finger, you look up at him. “Do you want to fuck me after this?”

“Sweetheart,” he mocks, sucking in one deep breath as he watches you warm the lube between your fingers. “I don’t come unless you come, too. Got that? Don’t you dare make me feel good and then leave yourself untouched.”

“I can always return to my room and take care of myself there. This is for you.”

You say the last sentence with the most teasing tone you can conjure. Bucky Barnes is wholly complete to you. Meaning, there isn’t a puzzle piece left unturned, a secret left untold, or a wish left unsaid. And even though people claim you never stop learning about a person no matter how long you’re with them, they’re wrong about that. Because even if you “learn” something new about Bucky, it’s a given. Something you may not have guessed entirely accurate, but something irrevocably him that it proves to be the most obvious thing in the world.

And as raunchy as this example was, you know Bucky would never let you leave this room without coming at least once, but you never thought he’d declare it so hot and angrily.

“Fuck yourself in front of my friends and see what happens.”

Smiling wide, you lay the pad of your index against his hole. Bucky tenses, gritting his teeth at the sudden touch. “You want to fuck me in front of Steve?”

Bucky growls, suddenly reaching forward to grip the back of your head to tug you down. With a tiny yelp, you fall forward onto his chest, your lips a centimeter away from each other.

“That’s already happened, and it was an accident.”

Slowly, you push your finger into him. Bucky swivels his hips, the movement itself an ask for you to do something else with the intrusion.

“Oh? I remember you admitting to me that it was one of the hottest things that’s ever happened to you, even if Captain Rogers, one of your best friends, saw my wet cunt stretched around your cock.”

Bucky slams his lips against yours, his mouth parting when your finger starts sliding in and out, in and out. He tightens around you, and his hips swivel again. You rise up so you can get a better view.

“You like when people know how well you fuck me.” Pulling out, you massage his hole before lining up your middle finger. You slide both fingers in as you say, “Especially when I have to look those people in the eye the next day.”

Pumping into his body, you marvel at the way his face scrunches in pleasure. How his mouth parts and his bottom lip shines. How his throat bobs and his skin turns a dark pink. How his chest heaves and his nipples harden. Nipples you find yourself leaning toward and biting softly, pulling the pebbled tip between your teeth. Bucky whines, his breathing quickening.

“Sometimes I just want you to rip my jeans off in front of everyone and fuck me right there. I want you to talk them through it—what it feels like, what you want to do to me. I want a fucking audience for when your cock finally leaves me and I’m dripping your—“

“Doll, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up or else I’m exploding right here, right now.”

Bending your fingers, you rub against his prostate until he’s writhing. His cock gives a slight pulse, then another and another as you nearly rub him to completion. But you alternate between fucking him with your hand as fast and coordinated as you can, then stopping to stroke him from the inside. It’s a combination that always brings Bucky to fucked-out tears.

“Tell me when you want to switch,” you assure him. “Tell me and I’m all yours.”

“You little minx,” he grunts, hands sliding along your waist and up to your tits. He pinches a nipple with his metal hand, elated when your face slackens. “Now, sweetheart. Make yourself come now.”

With one final swipe at his prostate, you remove your fingers and wipe the excess lube off on the bed sheets. Then, in one of the most practiced moves you’ve come to achieve, swing your leg over until you’re hovering over his cock, and sink onto him.

“Fuck,” he moans, gripping your hips as he readies to bounce you. But he lets one hand travel, one hand rise and smack your mound. Quickly, you cover your mouth with your hand, clenching your eyes shut.

Pussy-slapping. Huh. Everyday you find out something new about yourself.

He does it again. And again, and again, until you get the message and begin lifting your hips. Bouncing up and down, clenching purposely just to teeter him over that sweet edge, pinching his nipples whenever he did yours.

It’s rough and wet and possibly a little too loud for your predicament, but it’s too good to stop. Every spring of your hips reminds you of that glorious fullness, how the girth of Bucky’s cock burns and shocks and blesses you all at once. Reminds you of his sculpted body beneath yours, a body that has lain there and took it, a body that has draped itself over you and encased you with loving warmth. And the whimpers he expels, the way he bites his lip, the way his fingers leave masculine imprints on your skin…it’s evident you’re the same way, that your face contorts the same way his does, that your nails are leaving light red marks on his chest.

A magnificent pair—two bodies, two people attempting to reach a new height hidden at the base of stomachs, at the edges of spines, in the melting slush behind ribs.

Fuck your exhibitionist kink. You can’t stay away from Bucky because you, simply put, can’t stay away. If you weren’t horny tonight, you’d bet millions that you still would have snuck in and simply held him goodnight.

Bucky tugs you forward until you’re chest to chest, practically hugging, and holds you there as he fucks up into you. Fast, deep, desperate.

“I fucking love you,” he whispers through a moan, his voice near your ear. “Love you with all my goddamn heart.”

“I—” He hits that spot inside of you, and continues to hit it once he realizes. “I love you.”

His arms unwrap from your waist so he can grip your ass, spreading you wider as he pumps. “C’mon, Doll. Come for me. Come all over my cock like the cockslut you are.”

Biting into his shoulder, you shatter completely. Black spots impair your vision, and your back practically bows. Bucky fucks you quicker, and with a low grunt, spills into you.

Sweaty and overheating, you lift yourself with weak elbows. His eyes are still closed as you comment, “For the record, the next time I fuck you in this house, it’ll be with a strap-on and you’ll be bent over this bed, do you hear me?”

Bucky smiles through his post-orgasm daze. “Fuck yes. Make me that promise, sweetheart. Make me your cockslut.”

You chuckle deeply. “It’s funny when you say it when you refer to yourself.”

He blinks an eye open. “Funny?”

“Cute,” you correct. “Because it’s you admitting you’re as much of a horny little bastard as I am.”

Bucky snorts softly, and helps lift you from on top of him. Reaching over the nightstand, he snatches a couple tissues. He cleans what he can, but a bathroom trip is required. “You better sneak back to your room before someone gets suspicious about my light being on.”

“Maybe Steve woke up.”

“Steve sleeps through those loud as fuck broadcasted alerts and earthquakes. I highly doubt the jerk woke up on a silent night like this one.”

“Not so silent anymore.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. You dress, plant a long kiss on Bucky’s bruised lips, and slip from the room undetected. Peter hadn’t moved from his spider position and Sam still snored loudly. Nothing in the kitchen has been disturbed.

You succeeded. You actually fucking succeeded. With a wonderful tenderness between your legs and a blush on your cheeks, you gently climb the stairs and open your bedroom door. Steve lies on his stomach now, sprawled out and practically dead.

You’ll have to sleep without Bucky’s arms around you tonight, but knowing he wanted you as badly as you wanted him? Bliss.

TAGLIST: [on masterlist]

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x female reader #holiday fanfic #marvel fanfiction #avengers au #warmth of winter sequel #warmth of the future #part one #captainsimagines #by Moni #dbf!bucky #dbf!buckybarnes

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popcorn-plots · 2 months

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ufhuashdsjk I have this AU that's been stuck in my head for the past two weeks and it WILL NOT go away.

So anyways, it's ironstrange. and it's a highschool AU. but not in the way you think. Basically, some kind of bad guy turned all of the Avengers into teens (don't ask how) and Fury forces them to go to school until this thing can be reversed. For some reason, reasons I have yet to discover, Avengers are made to have at least some semblance of graduation credits (speaking of graduation credits, I got into study hall and I talked to my councilor and I am on track to graduate next year!)

most of the avengers just kind of hang around because it's a tony and stephen centric-fic

Nat does like, all dance classes and is on the dance team

Clint is glad he's not being bullied the second time around and just tries to keep his head down

Thor just does everything and is the ultimate popular kid. he's also discovers that he loves art

Steve's serum is gone. he hates it. this causes many a fights. he mostly hangs out around the arts department

Bruce is top of his class in AP Chem, AP Calc, AP Physics, AP Bio.... looking for Bruce? Check the science hall.

In my personal AU, Donna died when Stephen was just entering his sophomore year of high school. He was bullied his entire high school life for it, even when he was a senior, people would tell him he was a murderer. Every semester, he would have notes shoved into his locker. High school was not a fun time for him.

Tony wasn't allowed a high school experience with all the cameras and with the fact that he graduated at MIT while he was supposed to be a Junior in high school, so he takes the opportunity to do everything he couldn't do under his dad's rule.

basically just high school Avengers AU of these people trying to figure out life. Because high school is hard, y'all

#stephen strange #doctor stephen strange #au #fanfic #avengers endgame #high school #ideas #fic ideas #ideas for future references

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ducktoonsfanart · 2 years

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Duck Avenger (Paperinik-Pk) and his student (more precisely his nephew) in action

I haven't done this in a long time, but now I'm doing it again. However, this is only a part of what concerns Donald Duck, who plays the role of a superhero and a secret spy and ninja, not to mention, and who will surely have to give some things to his nephews. This is just my AU part of the story. So I started with my favorite Duck Avenger and Paperinik in the PKNA version which has the dark pages of that comic that are definitely the most exciting. Yes, since this is too extreme and requires good strength, I added Louie Duck next to his uncle Donald to be his deputy or protege, and Louie likes to be a superhero like his brothers, only he has to learn responsibility. Although Donald does not like to have an assistant, he still gives preference to his relatives. Certainly, this is not part of the canon, this is my headcanon for my Quack Pack AU (yes this teen version of Louie is from Quack Pack).

Certainly Paperinik's mentor Uno (One), an Android computer designed by Everett Ducklair, will help them with the important tasks they have to do and which are very dangerous. In addition to Uno, there is Lyla Lay, who is an android but has a human heart and who comes from the future and helps Paperinik fight the villains. Also behind them is Evronian, an alien aggressive duck warrior. But don't worry, our heroes will be okay. This is part of the PKNA comics, and it's certainly very exciting, even though there are dark scenes and it's not really for kids, if you ask me. I definitely love those comics and this is just the beginning. Yes, Louie as Paperinik Junior (Duck Avenger Junior-Pk Junior) will have to learn a lot of responsibilities in these things, but his uncle as his mentor will help him overcome difficulties.

I hope you like this drawing and this idea. It was just harder for me to draw Lyla Lay. And sorry for some of the mistakes and I hope you like this. I drew from inspiration from various cover art related to PK and around my previous drawings.

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that-weird-marvel-addict · 2 years

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Darkness only consumes those who allow it

Dark captain au: After seeing the truth of hydra, the capability it has to change the world for the better, Steve rogers embraced his new name and title, Ragnarok, the final destruction of the old world; It is his role to protect the heads of hydra and see the end of those who dare to interfere. The final phase approaches, with red skull by his side the world is merely a rock to crumble in their palms.

#marvel #captain america: first avenger #i made this myself #capskull #fanart #fan comic #marveladdicts #dark captain au #future comic to come

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lpsgirl109 · 4 months

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Planning to start posting all the characters from my Marvel x WoF AU soon. Gonna start with the Future Avengers and main Avengers first, but after that I am unsure who to do. Which is why I am directing you all to my ask box. Go put characters there and if there is an existing dragon equivalent, I will post them. Note that I have taken characters from MFA (obviously), X Men Evolution, Spider-Man, and a handful of MCU characters. So there are many options

Go suggest characters NOW go go go

#wings of fire #wof #wof crossover #marvel #avengers #marvel future avengers #x men evolution #spider man #marvel cinematic universe #crossover au

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arlana-likes-to-write · 8 months

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Marry Me

Summary: Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying your girlfriend of two years but she broke up with you before you had the chance to ask her for her hand. Now with a wedding invitation in your hand, she's getting married but she's not marrying you.

Pairings: Past!Wanda Maximoff x reader, Yelena Belova x reader

Warnings: mention of cheating, angst with a happy ending, modern AU, no powers/Avengers, Starks aren't dead and decent parents lol

Word Count: 4.4k

‘Together with their families Wanda and Vision invite you to their wedding,’ the world around you seemed to become white noise. You didn’t hear your roommate talk about some guy that stood her up or the weatherman talking about the weather. Nothing else seemed to matter. “Are you listening to me?” No, you weren’t. That’s what you wanted to say but you stayed frozen, unable to speak. Sarah snatched the invitation out of your hand. You didn’t bother to stop her. “No fucking way this bitch invited you to her wedding,” Sarah had strong feelings about the ending of your relationship with Wanda. She had every right to be upset as she was the one to mend the broken pieces. “Are you going?”

“Fuck Sarah I don’t know,” you glanced at the time on the stove. “And I do not have time for this.” You were supposed to have a quick lunch at home and then return to the office for a meeting with important investors. Being blindsided by an invite to your ex-girlfriend’s wedding was something you didn’t have time for. “I have to go. Just leave it on the fridge,” you grabbed your backpack. Lunch was a protein bar and a banana.

“Hey, dumbass,” you stopped at the door, turning to face your roommate. “I love you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Love you too, dumbass.” You walked out of your apartment, not bothering with the elevator. It was a beautiful sunny day, a stark contrast to the emotions that were swirling inside of you. Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying Wanda. You were together for 2 years and knew every detail of how she wanted the wedding to be. It would be out in the country, not too many people to save on money. Maybe on an apple orchard or magnolia trees surrounding the ceremony. You would have given her everything, no matter the cost, and you were looking at rings to buy. Then she broke up with you. It was rather sudden, out of the blue, and she never gave you a good enough explanation. She told you that she fell out of love with you. A month later, she and Vision started dating. Sarah figured she was cheating on you. You couldn’t stomach that possibility.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Tony said as the elevator’s door opened to his office. You rolled your eyes and sat down in the empty chair in front of his desk. You gave Pepper a small smile.

“I’m technically early,” you opened the protein bar. “I got distracted at home.” Tony sent a questioning look to his wife.

“Do you want-?”

“No,” you cut him off. “Let’s begin.” You got out your tablet and the meeting began without a second thought. You were the Chief Entrepreneur of Stark Industries. Your parents were close friends with the Starks and you and Tony grew up together. He was the brother you never had. So when Howard stepped down as Executive Chairman, Tony took over and promoted Pepper to CEO and you to Chief Entrepreneur. You were responsible for managing a portfolio of entrepreneurs. Your team was the future of Stark Industries, taking on risks and coming up with new products while Pepper ran the company. You didn’t envy her job and you loved working here. It was the best part of your day. However, it got uncomfortable and awkward when you had to deal with the CFO, who happened to be Vision and Tony’s brother.

They weren’t related by blood but you knew that made no difference, you were close with Natasha and Yelena. Howard and Maria adopted Vision when you and Tony were in high school. He was two years younger than you. You remembered the day when Vision and Wanda announced their relationship so clearly. Tony dragged you into his office and asked if you wanted him to fire Vision and kick his ass. You told him that it wasn’t necessary. You were professional and respectful with the man. It was rare that your paths crossed. You only had to be in the same room as him during company-wide meetings or meetings with investors. Of course, you had one today. The universe was testing you.

Once Tony concluded the meeting, you and Pepper left his office. It was rare that he came to these types of meetings as he trusted you and Pepper to make the right calls regarding the company. You both stopped to make a quick coffee. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Are you helping Wanda with her wedding?”

“She’s asked me for some advice here and there,” she looked at you curiously. “Why?”

“Do you know why she invited me then?” In hindsight, you probably should have waited for the CEO to not be taking a sip of her coffee before dropping the news. She coughed, choking on the hot liquid. You bite your lip, trying to get your laughter under control, and rubbed her back to help her calm down. “Sorry.” You giggled. She waved you off and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“It’s fine,” she cleared her throat. “She invited you to her wedding.” You nodded as you continued on your way to the board room.

“I got the invitation today,” you said. “It was why I was late, kind of took me by surprise.” You took a sip of your coffee.

“Shit, I don’t blame you,” you giggled. You loved Pepper. She was a perfect fit for Tony. She was the only one that could reel in your brother’s energy. “Are you going to go?” You didn’t answer. “Tony is Vision’s best man and I know Wanda asked Natasha to be her maid of honor.” You weren’t surprised by that. Natasha was the reason Wanda was part of your workgroup and how you met her. The redhead held onto a lot of guilt because of what happened. You didn’t blame her.

“Not sure, Pep. We will see,” you saw Yelena and Natasha waiting for you and you quickened your pace. Natasha was the Chief of Staff and the first person you hired when you got promoted. She helped you manage executive goals and you trusted her to oversee projects you didn’t have time for. You worried when your relationship ended with Wanda your friendship would the redhead was going to be jeopardized. It wasn’t and a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. “Are you ready?” You asked Yelena when you got closer. The blonde was the reason you were having the meeting. She was a new hire but there was no limit to the ideas she had. Her latest project would partner Stark Industries with Wakandans International to develop a better prosthetic.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” her Russian accent took you by surprise when you first met her as Natasha introduced her as her sister. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Don’t be nervous,” she gave you a pointed look. “Come here,” you dragged her away from her sister and Pepper to a more private area. “You are going to kill it today. Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Because you have a passionate for this project on a level I’ve never seen before,” she began to smile. “And you have the support of everyone at this company, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Just go in there and speak with the same passion you had when you explained it to me and you’ll do great.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you having some much faith in me,” you put your hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

“No need to thank me,” you brought her back over to her sister with her hand still on her shoulder. You didn’t miss the questioning look the redhead sent you and you removed your hand quickly. “Shall we?” You opened the door for your group and everyone found their seats to wait for the others.

The meeting went…okay. You introduced everyone to Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye. You’ve spoken to the trip on the phone but it was nice to meet them in person. Yelena began to present her research and the importance of the partnership but Vision questioned every little thing to an annoying degree. You understood it was his job to understand how this would affect the company financially however it was starting to piss you off. Even Yelena knew he was getting on your nerves as you tirelessly defended everyone in your group. The glares he was sending your way weren’t helping. Was there trouble in paradise?

In the end, the deal was signed and work with the Wakandans could being. Plus, you didn’t murder your ex’s fiance so it was a win-win in your book.

You loved when a new deal was signed. It meant an influx of projects for your team to work on and more people to help. But the first day was meant with paperwork, scheduling, and delegating responsibilities. And meetings. So many meetings. You were tired, hungry, and in desperate need of a beer. You were putting on your headphones as you exited the elevator and headed for the door but a voice calling out your name caused you to stop. It was a voice you knew so well. “Wanda,” you said as your ex-girlfriend approached you. She looked good, wearing a long dress that touched the ground. Her hands were resting in front of her and she was playing with the rings that were on her fingers. A tale sign of her anxiety. “What are you doing here?” You questioned.

“Waiting for Vision,” Right. Of course, she was. That was a stupid question. “He said you and Yelena closed on a big deal.”

“We did,” you said. “Yelena did a majority of the work. I just guided her in the right direction.” You saw a strange emotion flash across her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came so you couldn’t place it.

“Well congratulations,” you smiled as your thanks. An awkward beat of silence passed between you two. God, you didn’t know how to get out of this conversation. “Did you get your invitation?”

“Uh yes, I did,” Great. This is exactly where you didn’t want this conversation to go. “It was beautifully designed.” It wasn’t a total lie, you just had no memory of what it looked as you stared at the tagline - ‘Wanda and Vision invite you.’ Wanda and Vision. She wanted to get married but she wasn’t marrying you.

“Do you think-” your name being called out cut her off and you turned towards the sound. It was Yelena. You didn’t realize the blonde was still at the office and you never been more excited to see her.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I didn’t think you were going to wait for me.” She said as she got closer. “Oh hi, Wanda.” The blonde plastered a fake smile on her face.

“Hi Yelena,” the smile on Wanda’s face was strained. Yelena looked at you.

“Ready to go get drinks?” Drinks? Her green eyes said a lot more than her simple statement. She was giving you an out. You made a mental note to increase her yearly bonus.

“I am,” you smiled at your ex. “It was good seeing you, Wanda. I’ll see you around.”

“Of course,” she said. “Congratulations, again. You both deserve to celebrate.” Yelena linked her arm with yours.

“Bye Wands,” the blonde dragged you to the door. When you both stepped outside and you were out of sight, Yelena dropped her arm. “Boy, you could feel the tension in the lobby.” You let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you for the save,” you said. “I owe you one.” She shrugged.

“Don’t mention it. I do it a lot for Kate and America when we go out. It’s second nature,” she started to smile. Oh, that smile was trouble. “Buuuut, if you want to make it up to me I know of a bar that is close by. We do have something to celebrate.”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand on your chin pretending to think. “I don’t think we have anything to celebrate,” you teased. “And I am pretty tired.” You faked a yawn.

“Suka (bitch),” you pushed on your shoulder. You gasped.

“That is assault,” you said. “I’m calling HR.” Yelena rolled her eyes.

“Are we going or not?”

“Lead the way, printsessa (princess),” you bowed. She laughed, throwing her head back at your pathetic attempt at Russian. You liked the sound of it.

“I still can’t believe you are going to this stupid wedding,” Sarah said through Face time. You sighed as you put your tie underneath the collar of your shirt. “And you didn’t even bring me.”

“I didn’t have a plus one,” that was 100% on purpose. The last thing Wanda would have wanted was for your best friend that wasn’t her number 1 fan to come to her wedding. “What else was I supposed to do? Tony closed the office because everyone was invited and you are visiting family.” You weren’t going to sit at home and be depressed. At least some of your friends were going to be there, but most importantly Yelena. “You put your jacket on. “How do I look?” You were in an all-gray suit with a white shirt. The only pop of color came from your tie.

“Hot,” Sarah said. “Damn if I were into chicks I’d grab you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Thanks,” you sighed, looking down at the watch Howard gave you for your 18th birthday. “I better get going. I’ll text you after the ceremony.”

“Good luck!” You ended the call. You were going to need more than you, what you needed was at least 5 shots.

The ceremony was in an apple orchard. It appeared the happy couple rented out the inn and the orchard for a private wedding. You were handed confetti as you approached the rows of seats. There were small groups of people, all of them you knew, waiting for the ceremony to begin. You saw Pepper, who sent you a small wave. You waved back and sat in the back row at the end of the row. Thankfully, no one came up to you to talk because you weren’t in the talking mood. Instead, you played with the watch on your wrist. “Well,” you looked towards the voice and saw Howard Stark. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Mr. Stark,” you stood up, holding out your hand for him to shake. The man rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug.

“Please. I changed your diapers when you were a kid,” you felt your body heat up in embarrassment. “Drop the act, kid, it makes me feel old,” you smiled and sat down, leaving the end seat for him. “How are you? You don’t come by the house anymore.” That was true. You didn’t want to run into Wanda or Vision by chance.

“I’ve been busy,” you told him. “Your son is running me ragged.” It was the furthest thing from the truth but it pulled a laugh out of the older man.

“It was the best decision that boy has ever made promoting you and Pepper,” you smiled. “But how are you?” He asked again. “How is this?” He placed a gentle hand on your heart. You sighed, looking at the ceremony. This was going to be you, marrying Wanda but she picked someone else.

“Tired, Howard, if I’m being honest. I feel a little lost,” he nodded. You knew the man would never judge you. He’s seen you at your lowest point when you found out your parents were killed in a car accident. You were in a meeting with him and Tony when Maria came in to tell you. Losing them broke you but the Starks were there to catch you. It was why it hurt so much that it was Vision who started dating Wanda.

“I always told my boys to go after what they wanted, I never expected that advice to hurt someone I considered a daughter,” your breath hitched. You always so him as a father-like figured but hearing him call you his daughter brought tears to your eyes. You looked at the archway. You didn’t blame him. “But,” he grabbed onto your shoulder. “You will have your love story that will arrival that of your parents and I can’t wait to see it,” you fought the tears that threatened to fall. “You will always be a Stark, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Now I must be going but we will drink at the bar,” he stood up fixing his tie. “I believe I’m paying for it so drinks are on me.” You laughed, whipping away a tear.

“Thank you, Howard,” he gave you a salute and got ready for the ceremony. Folding your hands you sat back and watched as the seats began to fill. Soft music began to play and you were going to need a drink after this.

You took a glance at the seating chart. Table 3 with Natasha, Bucky, and Yelena. You were grateful she did that for you. Did you look like an alcoholic as you were the first one to the bar? Probably but you didn’t care. Besides you knew everyone at this wedding and it wasn’t like you were here to impress anyone. You ordered a strawberry mojito and waited for your drink as the rest of the guests filed in. “You know,” you turned to face Yelena as she walked over to you. She was wearing a light green full-length dress. It had a deep v-neck and a slit that went up to her thigh. Her blonde hair was braided. “I did not believe my sister when she said you’d RSVP but here you are.” She ordered herself a long island.

“Yelena,” you said. “You look gorgeous.” The compliment flowed so easily off your lips. You liked the blush that crept up on her cheeks.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she fixed the collar of your shirt. “How did you enjoy the ceremony?” She got her drink from the bartender.

“I’m glad to be drinking,” you said, holding out your arm. She took it and you walked her over to your table. The blonde laughed.

“Well, it’s an open bar. So let’s drink till our heart’s content.”

The reception was fun. The first dance was beautiful and speeches made by Tony and Pietro made you laugh. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t paying attention. You found yourself watching Yelena. You weren’t sure when your feelings shifted for the blonde. Since the partnership with the Wakandans, you and she spent late nights at the office. Those nights were filled with laughter, stories, and dreams shared, and stressing over upcoming deadlines. For the first time since your breakup with Wanda, you felt free. Even Tony said something about your mode change.

Natasha sat down next to you with another drink. “I love that you’ve moved on from Wanda,” she handed you the drink. “But can you stop undressing my sister in front of me?” You jumped, startled by the accusation.

“Nat, shit, I’m sorry,” her laughter cut your nervous rambling off. “That’s not funny,” you whined, taking a sip of your drink. It was a lot stronger than your other ones. You wondered if she made it herself.

“I think it’s hilarious,” she leaned back in her chair. “So are you going to ask her out or just stare at her all night?” You groaned, rubbing your hands across your face.

“I don’t know,” your eyes immediately went back to the blonde. She was standing with Kate and Carol. The brunette must have said something funny because she laughed. God, she was beautiful. She must have felt eyes on her because she looked around until her green eyes found you. She waved and you waved back.

“Look, I’m going to intervene because I love you both. She likes you so make a move,” you looked at the redhead, trying to find any sense that she was messing with you. But you found none.

“Are you sure okay with this?” You questioned. “Because if you aren’t I will ignore my feelings for her,” Natasha put her hand on your shoulder.

“She will treat you better than Wanda,” she squeezed. “And if she does anything to hurt you. I won’t hesitate to kill her.” You covered your mouth as you laughed to now draw attention to you. “Go be happy.” You stood up, grabbing your drink.

“Thank you,” you began to walk over to the blonde. You were nervous. If she was going to allow you to date her, it would be different than dating Wanda. You worked with her, you were technically her superior. If it ended as badly, it could affect the work dynamic. But you couldn’t think like that. You had to take it one step at a time.

“Hi,” Wanda stepped in front of you. She changed out of her wedding dress and into a shorter one. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you all night.”

“Must be hard being the woman of the hour,” you took a sip of your drink and locked eyes with Yelena over Wanda’s shoulder. You gave her a reassuring smile. Wanda chuckled, sipping on her drink. It wasn’t her normal cocktail, which was strange unless being with Vision changed her that much.

“Do you have a minute to talk?” You didn’t but you nodded. She led you to a balcony, and your surprise there was no one out there. She leaned her back against the metal railing. Her hands were on her stomach, playing with the wedding ring. It hit you. The drink wasn’t alcoholic, her hands on her stomach. You took a sip of your drink.

“Your pregnant,” you said. She almost dropped her glass.

“How did-” she cut herself off with a laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” You moved to stand next to her. “It was impossible to keep things from you.” ‘I guess you found a way,’ you wanted to say but you bite your tongue.

“How long?”

“2 months,” That was why they got together so quickly. That was why the engagement came out of nowhere. She cheated on you. Your stomach dropped. “Y/n-” she went to touch your arm but you jerked away from her.

“Don’t,” you hissed. “Don’t try to justify your cheating on me.” Oh, Sarah was going to have a field day with this. You took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “Are you happy?” It took a moment for her to reply.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Then go be happy with Vision and I’ll be happy with someone else. Have a nice life.” You turned to leave.

“With Yelena,” you didn’t like how she said her name. A hint of dislike and jealousy. When you faced her she was already looking at you. That same look was in her eyes that night in the lobby. She was jealous and possessive. Oh, it was comical.

“Don’t say her name like that,” you said, closing the gap between you and your ex. “Do you want to know the difference between me and you? You moved on while we were still together and didn’t have the guts to call it off because you slept with someone else. You have no right to be jealous over something you have no claim to. See around Wanda,” You waved over your shoulder as you walked back into the party. Drowning the rest of your drink, you saw that Yelena was still talking to Kate but America joined them. You through your cup away and walked over to the trio. You placed your hand on Yelena’s back as you approached them. The blonde looked at you, smiling. “Mind if I burrow her?” Kate and America smirked at each other.

“She’s all yours,” you thank them and moved your hand into hers, leading her out of the party. She squeezed your hand every few seconds, singling she was still with you. Finally, you stepped outside.

“I was going to give you 5 more minutes with her before I went and saved you,” you smiled, bringing her closer to you. She set her drink on the table. God, she was gorgeous. The lights danced in her green eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked the urge was becoming too strong to ignore.

“Please,” she whispered. You connected your lips with hers without a moment’s hesitation. Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to her. You felt her smile against your lips. Soon you pulled away but you kept her close, feeling her breath against your lips and her heartbeat racing. “I’m sorry about Wanda.” The mention of your ex snapped you out of your haze.

“Did you know?” She looked away, glancing at the reception through the window. But you gently placed a finger underneath her chin to look at you.

“I did but I’m not even sure if Natasha and Tony know and I thought she told you,” she was working herself into a panic attack. You brushed your nose against hers and captured her lips in a quick kiss. She calmed down. “I caught them at the office. It was late like so fucking late,” you chuckled. “I wasn’t sure what the hell I stumbled on. I think you were with Tony on a business trip to Japan,” you remembered that trip. You didn’t want to go as you and Wanda were planning on going to visit her family. “I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or her being so close, you weren’t sure why she was apologizing. But that brain power was for the future, sober you to figure out.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” that much you knew. You didn’t blame her. “We’re okay.” She let out a sigh. “Do you want to get out of here?” A playful smirk formed on her lips.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask.”

Wanda stood in her kitchen, listening to her twins playing with their toys with the TV on with the latest episode of Bluey, as she flipped through the mail. A majority of it was junk mail; magazines she didn’t remember signing up for or ads trying to get her to buy something. Her fingers stopped on an envelope addressed to her and Vision written in beautiful writing. She ripped it open and stared at the invitation, ‘You are invited to the wedding of Yelena and Y/n, with a reception to follow.’

Part 2

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x female!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x vision #yelena belova imagine #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel au

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snekberry · 1 year

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future!jon waiting for his martin to arrive

post MAG-200 tma time travel au series

[ID: A four panel comic about Jonathan Sims from the future interacting with Jon and Martin from season 1 of TMA. Future Jon is a thin, brown-skinned man with long, greying dark hair in a ponytail, and various scars. He wears a green “What the Ghost” hoodie. Jon from the past has short hair with less gray, and wears glasses, and a white button down shirt with a black tie. Martin is a large, pale man with red hair and glasses, and wears a blue sweater over a white collared shirt.

The first panel shows Future Jon lounging in a chair, while drinking from a mug. There is an arrow pointing to him that reads “borrowing past! Jon’s spare clothes”. He is grinning with his eyes closed and saying “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to arrive in this timeline.”

The next panel shows Jon and Martin from the past. Past Jon is sipping from his own mug, and looking at Future Jon with interest, as he thinks “I get a boyfriend in the future?” Martin is also holding a mug, and smiles pleasantly as he asks “Oh?”

The next panel shows them again, as Martin gets jealous, and tightens the grip on his mug until it begins to crack under his hands. His expression is still pleasant as he asks “Who’s your boyfriend?” Past Jon notices Martin’s mug and reacts with shock, saying “Good lord!”

The last panel shows Future Jon again, sitting forward a bit and grinning slyly at the pair of them, looking highly amused. He says “Oh, you’ll see.” End ID.]

Thank you @/coulson-is-an-avenger for the ID!!

#tma #time travel au #tma time travel au #jon sims #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #jonmartin #magpod #magnus pod #snekberry draws #the magnus archives #tma comic

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esouliie · 2 months

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AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE

(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)

– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?

– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)

– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡

[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

JULY 1992

The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.

Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.

“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.

Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.

“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.

Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.

She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.

"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"

“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."

You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.

An angel flung out of space.

"I can almost touch the stars!"

She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.

“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.

Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.

You both were happy.

It’s sad what became of you both.

All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.

At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.

“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”

A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.

She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.

Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.

Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.

You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.

You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

You’ll see her again tomorrow.

AUGUST 1997

“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.

“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.

The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.

Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.

You’d never felt like this before for anyone.

Only Natalia.

Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.

You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”

But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.

Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.

“I’m leaving.”

Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"

She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.

"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”

Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.

Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.

“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.

You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.

“I'll miss you too. Forever.”

The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.

“Natty?”

Nothing.

A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.

That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.

You won’t see her again tomorrow.

APRIL 2001

From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.

Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.

Just as beautiful as you remembered.

You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.

Natalia?

Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.

She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.

Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.

None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.

Up close, the difference was unquestionable.

The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.

“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.

And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.

“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.

But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.

You don’t follow her.

OCTOBER 2012

Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.

At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.

You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.

Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.

Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”

"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."

She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."

Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.

“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.

“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.

All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.

“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.

You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.

Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.

“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."

You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.

Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient. The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.

You read over her notes once more.

“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.

The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.

The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips. Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.

Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.

You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.

The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.

"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."

Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.

“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”

Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”

As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.

“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”

Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.

“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore

As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.

There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.

Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?

“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.

She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.

"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”

With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."

You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order... now go take your lunch break.”

With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader

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lunaetis · 2 years

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▸▸ [ @alchemiasaturnalis || heliodor & misaya || misaya starter call ]

─「美沙夜」─ the SECOND MASTER stood within the moonlit room, darkness had once again cloaked the city of tokyo along with the reiroukan manor she was residing in. it seemed that all servants had already been summoned, and the SECOND TOKYO HOLY GRAIL WAR had officially begun, as well as the ticking of a clock counting down her own demise.

if you don’t get the grail, you’ll die — misaya.

“ death is something i have come to terms with for quite some time now. ” the cherubim mused quietly, knowing that her servant had already glimpsed into her PAST and heard those words from her father’s lips when he was dying. a death from the BETRAYAL OF HIS OWN SERVANT. the curse that was placed at the back of her neck was spreading, how ironic that the mark of cherubim also appeared there. fingers traced themselves over the command seals. crimson hues then slowly shifted from the view outside the window to the figure lurking in the SHADOW behind her.

“ do you have a wish for the grail, avenger ? ”

#alchemiasaturnalis #.ignition #.[ reiroukan.misaya ]#.[ misaya.verse: a path carved out from blood: au fate prototype ]#[ here you go friend !!#sorry for the wait !!#i was reading about both prasiolite & heliodor & the moment i saw that #heliodor would take the stats of avenger misaya immediately pointed at him HJKLHLK #i'M ACTUALLY UNSURE IF HIS CLASS IDENTIFIED AS AVENGER OR IF HE TAKES STATS OF AVENGER BUT IDENTIFIED AS SABER #so let me know & i'll amend my future replies to reflect his class !#let me know if you need me to change anything ! ]

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buckysugar · 11 months

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𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 | 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

au masterlist

reader has a bad dream and struggles to maintain a balance between her big self and her little self. it doesn't help that all she wants is bucky, the man she wishes to be her daddy.

note: this my first fic so please be kinds !! i hopes you likes n maybe i writes more in the futures? thankies for readings, i lubs you 🎀☁️🫶🏽💗

you were a lonely baby when bucky met you. you had your family, sure, but they weren't there for you in the way you needed them to be. you'd just had a fall out with your best friend and had began isolating yourself from everyone and everything

it wasn't until peter found you at school, crying on a park bench in the rain, that things started to change for you. that was a few months ago. under the false pretence of moving away for college, you left your family and joined peter at the avengers tower after three months.

everyone loved you the moment they met you. you were so kind, so quiet and well-mannered. just so doll-like that no one could pick a bone with you. they hadn't known you were a little, and they still didn't but they wouldn't be surprised to find out. they all protected you and cared for you like you were their own. of course, you felt very out of place considering how quickly everything had happened but they all reassured you that they enjoyed having you around more than you knew. and with peter by your side, things were okay.

the one person who was iffy about you at first was bucky. he was too scared to come close, to taint your innocence with his darkness. over time, he came to realize how similar the two of you were in different ways and he let his wall break down. he opened up to you in the slightest of ways, and so did you. your feelings of hurt and anxiety still resided in your heart, but the avengers made you feel like you finally had a home. especially bucky.

"y/n, peter, what are you still doing up?" tony asked as he barged into the boy's room.

"we're just studying for a test, mr. stark. there's a lot to cram," peter replied in a tired voice, running a hand through his hair as the only light in the room came from his laptop and the bright city outside his window.

"okay, well this isn't the time to be studying, it's 1am. go to sleep," tony looked at him sternly, ready to walk out. "tiny, you look tired. head to bed, alright?"

"y-yes, sir," you nodded softly, giving him a smile.

"goodnight, kiddos. get some rest."

peter huffed, slamming his laptop aggressively. this caused you to flinch from your seat on the bed, making him give you an apologetic smile.

"i didn't realize how late it was," he spoke quietly, moving your book out of your lap. "let's get some rest, bug."

"mkay," you shuffled under the covers and made room for him to come in beside you. peter turned on the night light he kept for you in these instances before sliding into bed, opening his mouth to say something when he noticed the pout on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"i don't have squiggles."

"i got you," he tried easing your worries, pulling you into his chest. "you're safe with me, now close your eyes y/n/n."

"thank you, petey. goodnight."

"stop! where's my bucky? where's my daddy? i want him!" you shouted at the man in front of you.

"he's not coming back for you. he's gone, you're all alone like you always have been."

"i wan' him back," you cried, looking around through the foggy crowd of people around you. you didn't know where you were or who you were talking to, but you felt so alone and unsafe.

"you're alone now, y/n. nobody's coming to find you. you're trapped."

you woke up to heavy breaths, jolting upwards as you forced yourself awake. you were shaking like a leaf, heart beating rapidly against your chest as you looked down at peter who was sleeping soundly.

"wan' bucky," you whispered through tears, clutching the blanket to your chest. you were feeling so little right now, so scared and vulnerable.

you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to go bother or disturb him. the man rarely ever slept, but what if this time he was? you couldn't do it. but staring at the clock that read 3:14am, you didn't know how much longer you could take it.

he always told you to come to him whenever you needed him. you never did for fear of wasting his precious time but surely he wouldn't mind, if he wasn't asleep at least. you took a deep breath, using the back of your hands to wipe away the stray tears you didn't know had fallen. you carefully hopped over peter's sleeping frame and quietly made your way out of his room.

the hall was dark, making you let out a quiet whimper. your fingers clawed at your neck as you took shallow breaths, wishing you were holding squiggles right now for comfort. he always knew how to cheer you up.

"miss. l/n, you appear to be in distress. shall i alert mr. barnes?" F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice boomed, causing you to jump out of your skin.

"n-no, no, no. F.R.I.D.A.Y, b-be quiet. you'll wake everyone ups," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

"i'm sorry, ms. l/n, it appears mr. barnes is already on his way."

"w-what?" your eyes widened, looking around as you heard heavy footsteps walking towards you.

your eyes cracked with tears as you couldn't see a thing, reminding you of your scary dream as a quiet sob made its way out of your mouth.

"hey, y/n/n, don't worry. you're okay, everything's okay, love," you heard the familiar voice.

"b-bucky, you here?" you asked the dark abyss, pulling your thumb into your mouth.

"hun, i'm right here. i'm walking towards you," bucky replied, not missing a beat. his voice didn't sound tired at all. in fact, he sounded more awake than ever.

as he reached you, he heard the little sounds coming from you and his heart ached. he carefully placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump and cry.

"plum, it's just me—"

you quickly ran into his arms and he held your quivering frame tight to his chest. you didn't want to speak, not in the hall where anyone could find you. you wanted to go to his room and let everything out, tell him all your fears and get the reassurance you so dearly needed.

"shh, shh. you're okay, my love, you're alright. i'm right here, i'm not leaving," he comforted, lifting you into his arms and taking you to his bedroom.

he locked the door behind him and sat on the bed, running a soft hand down your back as your tears soaked the skin on his neck.

"what happened, bug? what's got you so worked up?" he asked quietly, pulling you out of his chest.

you made a sound of disapproval before shoving your head back into the crook of his neck, just needing to be close to him.

"okay, okay. that's okay you can stay there," he rocked you slowly. "but can you please be the good girl i know you are and tell me what's wrong?"

you hiccupped, nodding your head. "t-the.. the guy t-took me.. n.. n you was gone!"

you balled his shirt in your fist, sobbing so hard your chest began to hurt. "was— was all 'lones n he.. he saids you wasn't gonna come backs."

"aw, my love," it clicked that you had a bad dream, the hurt in your voice tugging at his heartstrings. "i'm right here, i promise you i'll always find you wherever you are."

"was s-so scareds d.. da.. mm," you shook your head and stopped, finally taking the moment to actually realize where you were. you were with bucky, you couldn't call him daddy. but you were safe, no one was going to take him away from you and he wasn't going to leave you.

"thought.. thought you were g-gones," your voice cracked at the memory. a string of snot clung to his shirt through your cries and you wanted to laugh but you couldn't.

he kissed the top of your head, deciding again to try to get you to peak out from your hiding spot. he cupped your face in his hands, observing your red and teary eyes. he wiped the tears away softly before kissing both your cheeks as you hiccupped again. your lips were plump from the crying, and he continued looking down to notice scratches on the skin of your collarbone.

he'd have to talk to you about that in the morning, but for now he needed to get you back to sleep.

"you need a tissue," he mumbled, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing one. he placed it on your nose. "blow."

you listened like you always do, silent wetness still dripping from your cheeks but they were beginning to slow down. he through out the tissue after humming in satisfaction. his hands moved down to your neck, using his thumbs to rub soft circles under your ears as you sniffled. it felt good, really good. you closed your eyes, his touch being more than enough to bring you back down to earth.

"you feeling a little better, baby?"

"mhm," you nodded, wiping your face aggressively. "m sorry."

"no, no. don't ever be sorry. you're okay, my baby's alright. bucky's here, you'll never be alone, hm? it's all going to be okay," he pulled you back into his chest, cradling your head ever so gently.

"t-thank you, bubby."

he smiled at the nickname. "no thank you's. now, lets get the little one back to sleep, how does that sound?"

"sounds good," you whispered.

"good girl," he turned off the lamp by his bedside table and got himself into bed with you clinging to him like a koala bear.

he simply chuckled as you looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he could feel your heart beating against his chest, it was still a bit quick but not as fast as it was before which was a good sign. no more words were spoken from you but he kept uttering words of reassurance until your breathing slowed. his delicate voice and the feeling of his hand tapping your side lulled you to sleep in no time.

#daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #peter parker x little!reader #bucky barnes #daddy bucky #daddy bucky barnes #daddy!winter solder x little!reader #daddy!winter soldier #the spider kid's best friend au

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captainsimagines · 2 years

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the warmth of the future || two

Pairing: DBF James “Bucky” Barnes x (Fem) Reader

Based on the Song: ‘Willow’ by Taylor Swift

Warnings: strong language; bar games; age difference kink; exhibitionism; jealous! Bucky; dom+sub vibes; some angst

Word Count: 8,890+

Author’s Note: Sorry? Lol

You’re barely entering the kitchen, head a matted mess, when the conversation snags your attention.

“Steven,” Pietro says quietly, sitting at the dining table, his hands intertwined in front of him. “Be honest with me.”

Steve sips his coffee, the white t-shirt he’s wearing already branded with a small coffee stain. His eyebrows scrunch as he responds, treading carefully. “I am being honest with you. Wanda has never flirted with me like that.”

Pietro releases a comical, shaky breath. “Oh, thank God—”

“I mean,” Steve continues, reaching over for the box of blueberry muffins. “She sometimes calls me cute. Tells me that I’m respectful and she doesn’t understand how I’m single. She even gives me free flowers whenever I visit because you guys typically have extras.”

Pietro freezes, his eye twitching. “This is the first time I’m hearing about the flowers.”

“Oh? Was I not supposed to be getting free flowers? I like to twirl the tiny ones around my watch so I can smell them from time-to-time.”

Your dad blows over his own coffee mug, his chest vibrating with a small laugh. “Now you know how it feels, Pietro.”

“How what feels?” Steve asks, looking around the kitchen. Even Peter and Sam are participating, enjoying their muffins at the dining table. “What’s going on?”

Bucky sighs, clapping Steve on the back. “I’ll tell you later, buddy.”

“What’s all this?” you finally interject, stepping off the stairs. Your dad moves to fill your mug, passing it to you with a kiss at the top of your head.

“Pietro thinks Wanda’s trying to get at Steve,” Sam chuckles.

“She is! Back me up—Tell them what she said yesterday,” Pietro begs you, filling his mouth with muffin and coffee at the same time.

“I don’t recall her saying such a thing,” you answer, your expression of fake confusion taunting him.

“What—”

“Besides, Wanda going after Steve? Ew.”

Steve’s mouth drops, a quiet squeak escaping. “Women love me.”

“I don’t believe it,” you say, still sarcastic. Pietro seems to want to slap his hand over your mouth. “Maybe you should flirt with her to get your answer.”

Pietro throws his arms in the air, giving up. Everyone joins in on the laughter. Steve and Wanda—a couple? Steve never brought home his dates and just like Bucky before, he never had many long-term relationships. It was an odd match, just as you and Bucky are, but what of it? Maybe they’ll hit things off. Maybe there will be a spark no one thought would ignite. Maybe they’ll fall in love and truly experience what that emotion feels like.

When you think of Bucky—who’s currently shoveling muffins and biscuits into his mouth—your heart is near seconds from exploding. That slight ticklish feeling, that melting Clint urged you to recognize two years ago. Even the heartwarming impression of Bucky giving you your first flower—all these emotions tied into one and sometimes you thought you were going to throw up. Liking Bucky, loving Bucky, made you feel sick. But that good kind of sickness. The kind that kept you moving, that kept you from spiraling, the kind that promised to have all the answers to even the most insane questions.

So, yes, Wanda and Steve would make an odd couple. But they were so similar in so many ways. Wanda, loud and eccentric, who only wanted to share her excitement and love of multiple things with someone other than Clint, Kate, or Pietro. Steve, reserved and witty, who only wanted to listen to people’s wonders and help them see them.

You were mature enough to let the conversation take an alternative road, and once everyone but you, Sam, Bucky, and Pietro were left in the kitchen, finishing off the muffins, the conversation steered into something more personal.

“He’s been dating her for a year and a half,” you comment. “Dad’s not going to propose. Is he?”

Sam grits his teeth in an awkward smile. “I think he is, Bumblebee.”

Your mouth parts, “But he would have told me!”

“Monica’s all he talks about.” Okay, that was true for you too. Your dad couldn’t shut up about Monica whenever you asked about her. Sometimes you would lay the phone down on speaker and continue whatever you were doing as he rambled on. “He’s so fucking getting that ring, Bumblebee.”

And see, you want him to propose to her. Monica is an absolute sweetheart and perfect for your dad. Your relationship with her, considering you hardly ever see her in person, is that of good friends. You’d definitely call her if you needed help. It’s just breaking your heart in three different places that your dad hadn’t mentioned his intentions to you.

“Well, when do you think he’s going to do it? At the Christmas party?”

Bucky adjusts himself in his seat, his fingers tapping his thighs rapidly with no set rhythm. “I think he mentioned waiting until New Years, actually.”

“He told you that?” Pietro urges. “He only said that he was waiting for you—”

Sam quickly interjects, “And you ruined the surprise!” Did he, though? “Bumblebee, your dad was going to ask for your permission to marry, of course.”

“My permission?” Your dad has never been married, so why would he need your permission? “He’s a grown man.”

Bucky raises his metal hand in a I-don’t-know fashion. “Father-daughter bonding, I guess. But I remember him mentioning proposing on New Years yesterday.”

“Huh.” They were all acting really weird. Well, Pietro wasn’t but that’s because he only pretends to know half the shit going on. “Interesting.”

The front door slams open and Clint wanders into the house, wiping snow off his shoulders. “It’s coming down like hellfire out there!” He throws his jacket over a barstool, then wipes at his face. “Kate’s gonna have to shovel the snow out before the fundraiser tonight.”

Pietro immediately stands, raising a hand as if volunteering. “You think I would be any help now? I could—”

Clint shoves a hand into Pietro’s chest, effectively stopping him from walking past. Clint makes a show of sniffing the air and studying the faces of everyone in the kitchen. Then, with his eyes opening wide and a smile splitting his face, he exclaims, “You had sex! Your phone is vibrating like crazy! You’ve been leaving to help Kate way too often. I don’t even help my damn niece as much as you do.”

“Hey, woah, wait—” Sam tries, but Clint’s cackle cuts him off.

“Of course you don’t smell like sex, Wilson. Last time you slept with someone, people were still wearin’ pagers.”

“Okay, hold up—”

“These two fucked last night. They’re not even tryin’ to hide it!”

Your mouth opens and closes with surprise. Bucky hides his face in his hands. “How the fuck did you—”

“I didn’t! But look at that, your dumbass just admitted it.”

“You snuck past me last night?” Sam blinks at you, chuckling between each word.

“Clint,” you groan, smacking your forehead against the dining table. “Why today? Why two days before Christmas? Why couldn’t your present to me be shutting the fuck up?”

“Right, sorry, sorry,” Clint apologizes, pushing Pietro down back into his chair. “Sam, why is your phone havin’ seizures?”

Sam pushes his phone across the table, huffing as he reveals, “It’s my nephews, man. Sarah was going to surprise all of you guys on Christmas morning, but look at that, surprise spoiled.”

“You could have lied!” Clint says, picking up Sam’s phone, unlocking it, and scrolling through the messages. How he knows the passcode, you don’t know.

“You would have just done that,” Sam deadpans.

“Sarah and the boys are coming?” you yell. Fuck, you’ve got to buy even more gifts.

“Yup, room booked and everything. Just, keep it a surprise for everyone else, will ya?”

“But,” Clint whines, “We see everyone tonight! How can I keep it a secret?”

“You will or else Sarah will beat your ass, not me.”

"Noted."

Horrendous fact that Sam, Clint, and Pietro now know you fucked Bucky last night aside, you can’t help but be delighted with even more guests. Especially family you haven’t seen in years. Pictures don’t do the boys justice, so they’re probably towering you in height by now.

“Am I free to go now?” Pietro carefully inquires. Clint eyes him suspiciously, like he’s a bug that needs trapping.

“Guess Wanda’s openin’ up the shop then?”

Pietro nods. “Tell her I’m at Kate’s?”

With only slight hesitation, Clint lets him go. Pietro sprints out of there, waving goodbye as he exits the front door. Bucky clears his throat, “Is it just me or is everyone getting romantic this holiday season?”

“It’s just you,” Clint quickly replies. “C’mon man, or we’ll be late for the appointment.”

“Appointment? Where?” you ask.

Bucky bites his bottom lip, lightly stuttering. “Some tax specialist…guy.”

Blinking, you stare at Bucky in a way that tells him he’s going to regret lying to you, but that you also find his attempt at lying really funny.

Sam shakes his head. “Idiot.”

Clint waves a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about it, Bumblebee. It’s just a Christmas thing.”

“Don’t go overboard on the presents,” you chastise, standing to wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck, hugging him close. “You’ve bested me two years in a row now.”

Bucky chuckles deeply, raising one of your hands to kiss your palm. “But you deserve the best, Doll.”

“Blagh,” Clint gags. “We’ll see you guys tonight.” And with that, Clint ushers Bucky’s sweatsuit-covered ass out the front door.

“What kind of morning was that?” You turn to Sam, who’s smiling toward the two who just left.

“Chaotic, huh?”

“Yeah.”

It’s always chaotic, and this morning didn’t even include the full cluster of personalities. If Kate had been here, she would have been as loud as Clint. If Wanda had been here, you bet the conversation about her and Steve would have delved into more specific scenarios. If Peter would have stayed instead of leaving to explore the town, he would have seen the light being shone on all your family stories. Especially the holiday ones.

And what the hell was it with Bucky and Clint being secretive about that appointment? And your dad not telling you he’s proposing?

But nope. Nope. This holiday season was going to run smoothly. You would make sure of it.

“You’re kidding.”

Wanda shakes her head as she brings her coffee to her mouth. Kate slams her forehead down onto the counter, alarming the elderly customer smelling the poinsettias. You stare at them both, mouth dropped open and breakfast sandwich abandoned.

“Was no one going to tell me that Pietro’s got a thing for you?”

Kate groans softly, rolling her forehead against the counter. “He’s not really trying to hide it anymore, is he?”

Wanda snorts, sputtering some drops of coffee. Some strands of her dirty-blonde hair catch them. “He’s had a crush on you since high school.”

“Okay, no.” Kate finally raises her head, holding up an index finger. “It’s been over ten years. That man has not been harboring a crush on me for that long. He has not. Bumblewumble, tell her she’s crazy.”

“Um. I haven’t observed much, obviously. Now less than ever.”

Kate rolls her eyes. “But every time you visit, do you notice anything?”

Let’s see.

There was that time when you were all enjoying morning coffee and you noticed Pietro was a little too engrossed in Kate’s retelling of The Princess and The Frog. Sound effects, hand movements, everything. But Pietro stared at everyone intently, as if his whole heart was in it.

There was also last summer when you all went on vacation together for a week and you noticed that Pietro tried—obviously, too—not to stare at Kate in her yellow bikini. But you just thought he was being respectful. You certainly had an eyeful, Bucky too.

And Pietro usually sits near Kate every chance he gets. He volunteers to drink her wild drink concoctions. He lets her borrow his truck, especially when it rains.

“Fuck, I think he does.”

Wanda cheers, laughing loudly when Kate slams her forehead down again. The elderly customer slides beside Kate shyly, placing a basket of poinsettias near the register. Wanda hops off the counter to ring up her order.

“Kate.” Your voice is stern as it comes out. You lean your upper body downward since you’re also sitting on the counter. Kate blinks one eye open. “Do you not like him back? Is that the problem?”

“I mean…” Her nose scrunches as the words start to take form. “I do. I really do. But why now? Why is he making it so obvious now?”

You have the same question.

“If I may,” the older customer interrupts, her pale face reddening. “A lot of people get romantic during the holidays.”

Wanda nods, swiping the debit card through. “That could be the main reason he’s being obvious about it now. We’ve got the prime example right here about holiday hook-ups and their success rate.”

“Hey!” you laugh, swiping the air in a pretend smack. “My story was magical!”

“Your story was crazy cliché and rare at the same time. Make it make sense,” Kate whines.

The customer laughs along with the three of you. “Sometimes men just need a little boost. Whether it be liquid courage, Christmas lights, or the sound of music.”

“Oh! That could be why I’m feeling things for Steve!” Wanda concludes, as if she’s just solved an unanswerable problem.

“You don’t feel things for Steve,” Kate mumbles. “A certain part of you does.”

You snort, trying not to share your own dirty remarks out of respect for the customer. But the customer surprises you three again as she says, “When you think of this boy, does he make you happy?”

Kate sighs, her smile almost sad. “Yeah.”

“And would it be so bad to tell yourself you might like him, too?”

To that, Kate takes a little while longer to respond. She turns to you, worrying her bottom lip. “You took a chance with Bucky that could have destroyed our friend group and family. No offense. Pietro and I are here everyday, and you and Bucky are all the way in New York. You have more freedom. If Pietro and I don’t work out or if something bad happens, it would be worse.”

You one-hundred percent understand where she’s coming from. Dating within a friend group, especially a friend group as close as yours, is dangerous.

“Then keep holding out, dear,” the customer shares, cradling her order. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer until they’re on their knees in front of you.”

“Great,” Kate says. “He’s gotta propose first, then date me?”

“Men get on their knees for other reasons besides marriage, dear.”

Your mouth drops, a potato chip loose and dangling. Wanda shares the same expression as she mutters, “We have a really good friend you’d probably like. Her name is Peggy.”

The older woman smiles. “I believe I would. She’s my aunt.” The revelation sticks with you long after the customer, Sharon, leaves with your regards for Peggy and Wanda’s flowers.

“So what about it, Kate?” you push, finishing the last bite of your sandwich.

Kate shrugs, stealing a sip from Wanda’s cold coffee while she helps another customer. “I guess I won’t know my answer until he’s on his knees.”

The atmosphere would never change in this bar. That mixture of home life, forty-year old fathers watching the weekend games, and after-school sport celebrations. This was perhaps the only bar on the east coast that had a special area for underage customers. Despite the segregation, a few drifters were crossing the boundary to put their names in to participate in the bar games tonight. Fundraising bar games. With both alcohol and water provided.

The distinction was important—Kate had been yelling it for the past twenty minutes.

“Water for you, Mr. Star Quarterback. It’s gonna take a shit ton more to pull a fast one on me.”

The cute blond kid snickers, thanking her for his glass of water. Before he leaves, however, he shoots Wanda a quick wink. Wanda waves him away, grinning widely. “It makes me insanely insecure that I’m unable to pull guys my own age.”

Oh, but she was trying to pull Steve? You don’t mention that to her, though.

Kate laughs, “I’ve told you a million times that Clint has a crush on you.”

Wanda gags dramatically, “Clint has a crush on everyone. And shut the fuck up, Kate. That’d be like fucking my brother.”

Now Kate gags. Some beer dribbles from your bottom lip as you choke, “No. Don’t say that shit again.”

“Clint’s basically my brother.”

“And yet, not. The comparison you just made is fucking frightening.”

Wanda scoffs, but the music playing on the overhead speakers catches her attention mid-thought. Not just hers, it seems. Yours and Kate’s, too. The three of you are a synced chorus of intrusive thoughts.

Give it up to Kate for playing pop music tonight. And when pop is introduced, so is Taylor Swift.

“BUT I MISS—SCREAMING AND FIGHTING AND KISSING IN THE RAIN, IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSING YOUR NAME. SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ACT INSANE AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOU!”

Then, from across the room, Peter Parker joins in with, “BREAKING DOWN AND COMING UNDONE, IT’S A ROLLERCOASTER KIND OF RUSH!”

The whole bar freezes for your small performance, but it’s just the chorus that’s screamed. To scream that whole song would leave your throat raw.

Wanda’s composure straightens literally as quickly as she lost it. “Would you fuck Clint?”

Taking a sip from your beer, your heart trying its best to ignore the second verse of the chorus coming up, you admit, “I’d actually rather die.”

Clint materializes from the backroom, lugging a case of beer on his shoulder. He takes them out one-by-one, placing them into their own pretty containers of ice as he curses, “Fuck you, Bumblebee. You know what? If you and I were the last people on Earth, and you begged for my cock, I’d say no. You would die of horniness. I’d jack off in front of you to show you what you’re missin’.”

You smile around the tip of your beer bottle, eyes sparkling with laughter. Your expression of amusement has Clint puffing a breath with his hands on his hips. You're incredibly thankful your dad was spending the night with Monica and had to miss the fundraiser. If he heard this conversation…

Kate cracks open a beer for herself. “Not even to repopulate the Earth?”

The fact Clint actually takes a few seconds to theorize his answer is brilliant. “After, it would be some creepy Adam and Eve shit where brother fucked sister. So, no. Not even then.”

“Good answer,” you tell him, reaching over to pat his shoulder encouragingly.

“But.”

“Stop talking.”

“If we’re truly the last ones on Earth, why bother? I’d kill you out of mercy and murder myself after. There, problem solved.”

The sound of cheering interrupts whatever it is Clint is about to say next. You see Captain Rogers fist bump the air, then grip Pietro’s shoulders proudly. Which can only mean they’ve added another point to their scoreboard. On the opposite team, Sam and Bucky sit with sore faces, rolling their eyes every chance they get. According to their scoreboard, they’re five points behind and losing. Which means the twenty dollars they each donated was about to raise to forty each.

“Your boyfriend is fuckin’ stupid,” Clint comments, stepping around the bar to take the seat beside yours.

With a quick kick to Clint’s shin, you rebuke, “It was an unfair question.”

A question you didn’t hear, but hey, you’ve got to defend your man.

Clint snorts, adjusting his hearing-aid. “Which football team won the 1998 Superbowl? The Rams? Fuck outta here.”

“Rams won in 2000.”

“Completely different numbers, stupid.”

“Next person who says stupid automatically donates a hundred without even participating in the games,” Kate chastises, handing a customer their beer.

Wanda purses her lips at both you and Clint. “Then maybe you should have been on your boyfriend’s team. And you should have joined the game when they were calling volunteers.”

Clint waves a hand through the air. “Sports trivia isn’t really my thing.”

“Then why are you bullying Bucky for it?”

Clint smirks. “To get your panties in a twist.”

This time, the sound of cheers is also accompanied by Sam’s loud whoop. High-fiving Bucky, who’s red in the cheeks and definitely not looking down at his lap, Sam points at the scoreboard until their 7 becomes an 8.

“Wooo!” you shout, cupping your hands around your mouth. Bucky looks up and tries desperately hard not to grin wider, but your constant shouts are making it hard not to. You give him a thumbs-up, which he enthusiastically returns. Pietro leans back on his bar stool, all the way around Steve’s shoulder, just to shoot you a nice view of his middle finger.

Bucky’s lucky guess wasn’t enough for him and Sam to win the game, though. They suffer Steve and Pietro’s badgering, and release heavy sighs as they fish that extra twenty dollars from their wallets. Walking over to you at the bar, Bucky kisses you on the forehead. “Apparently I don’t know sports as well as I thought I did.”

You mock a pout. “It’s okay. Maybe they’ll have a Lord of the Rings trivia next time.”

“Ha, ha.”

Kate grabs the microphone by the cash register and announces the next game. “Alright, my lovely townspeople! It’s time for the talent portion! If you’ve got a talent and think you’ll bring in those good tips, let’s see what you got!”

“Anyone got a secret talent they want to bestow upon us?” Steve asks, nodding his thanks at Kate as she hands him a beer.

“I’m really flexible,” Wanda comments, batting her lashes.

“Something worthy?” Steve replies.

Wanda fakes hurt, while Pietro sends her a grossed-out glare. You don’t have many talents that you can just whip out and bring in the big bucks with, so you choose to remain silent. In that silence, you look around the room, to the entrance, where the doors swing open and bring with them a flood of people. In that flood, surprisingly, is Peter Quill.

“Quill!” you call, waving your hand excitedly in the air. He spots you instantly, his grin widening. Wanda slaps your thigh repeatedly, her words jumbled. Clint automatically mimics her. Your thighs take matching assaults as you wait for Quill to step into your circle of friends.

“Hey!” He greets everyone with the same lovely smile, the same strong handshake. When he gets to Bucky, he doesn’t comment on the metal appendage. Everything goes smoothly, no matter how many of Peter’s instincts scratched at the back of your skull.

Speaking of Peter—Oh, he’s at the free video game consoles. Of course he is.

“You came!”

Quill shrugs, blushing lightly. “I don’t get out much and I heard about the roof. You got a guy for it already, Bishop?”

Kate smacks a hand towel over her left shoulder. “I’m thinking on a few. Why? You volunteering?”

Again, he shrugs. A loose yet individual gesture for him. “My guys usually do floors, but I’m all yours if you need me. I’ll even give you the ‘I-went-to-high-school-with-you’ discount.”

Kate smiles, all teeth. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

Quill finally turns back to you, pretending not to notice the smacking hands. “I’m here to donate my money and my time, Bumblebee. What mischief have you been getting into without me?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname this whole town has adopted for you, it seemed. “Well, we’re waiting on volunteers for the talent portion.”

“I’m sure you can pull something together in such short notice,” Quill smirks.

“Uh.” That was Bucky. “I’m sorry, I’m not quite placing you…Who are you?”

Fuck. The conversation was flying so quickly that you completely forgot to introduce them. “Right! Bucky, this is Peter Quill! Quill, this is Bucky Barnes!”

“Bucky Barnes!” Quill repeats enthusiastically. “Man, you were a legend growing up!”

“The one and only,” Bucky shyly responds.

“Quill and I went to high school together,” you explain.

Quill shakes his head, smiling. “We also dated for a year.”

At this, Bucky stills. Not from outright jealousy, but something else. Okay, a little bit from jealousy.

A lot from jealousy.

But something else is combined with it. Something akin to wounded. Like the very fact you hadn’t mentioned Quill, or the fact you had invited him tonight, or not mentioned him being an ex in your introductions, hurt him just a little. Yet he buries that under a thousand other feelings for now. It’s a good night, has been a fun night, and he doesn’t want to ruin it by lashing out with some petty bullshit.

So he answers with, “Ah. Small town and all, I guess.”

Quill chuckles, “Still is, always will be.”

“Hang on,” Kate interrupts. “Let’s get back to the talent portion. Pietro, you sing right?”

Pietro’s mouth parts with stuttering noises. Sam and Steve grip his shoulders and shake him wildly, shouting their encouragement as Pietro continues to shy away from the stares. That little tidbit had been stored near the back of your mind for years now. Pietro never really sang in front of crowds, nor did he whip out his guitar and piano during parties. Sometimes though, you would hear soft melodies escaping the closed office doors where you knew Pietro kept his keyboard piano, and very rarely would his voice join in. He performed in the school talent shows which is how you all know he was better than most, but he hasn’t performed in public since. It was mostly you and Kate stealing the spotlight during your senior year, with plays and cheerleading and track and field. Pietro was satisfied with cheering from the sidelines.

It’s not like he didn’t have a support system. You, Kate, and Wanda were his biggest fans, as were the four burly men screaming from the audience. Your dad, Steve, Sam, and Bruce. Tonight, that support system would definitely explode if Pietro decided to perform. Minus Bruce, but he was a rare occurrence nowadays anyway. Maybe next Christmas his magnificent brain would cool it with the scientific discoveries.

“I don’t know,” Pietro shyly admits. “I didn’t bring my guitar or keyboard with me.”

“I’ve got my old one upstairs. You might have to twist those thingies at the top or whatever, but it could work! Hold on,” Kate excitedly offers, abandoning the bar to race up the backstairs. Clint sighs deeply, hopping the counter to tend to customers.

“You don’t have to go up there if you don’t want to,” you assure him. “I’m confident someone will volunteer soon.”

Pietro gives a timid smile, his gaze settled on the stairs. As if waiting for Kate to return. “She needs the money.” Then, in a low whisper, “And it would make her happy.”

The whole exchange completely tears your attention away from Bucky and Quill. Quill, who’s watching Pietro light up by the mere sight of Kate’s busted guitar. Bucky, who’s watching Quill.

“We have a volunteer!” Kate shouts, clapping her hands together to incite a round of applause. Pietro sucks in a deep breath, climbs the small stage in the corner, and drags the microphone to his height. The bucket near his feet catches the snow and water dribbling down from the hole above. It’s both a problem and a stunner—the snow glistens white and orange, while the moonlight reflects the Christmas lights. A shame it has to be fixed. But at this one moment, it works.

“I don’t usually do this,” he tells the crowd. “But it’s for a friend. And she really needs her roof fixed.”

He picks at the strings, messes with those thingies at the top, and begins. Something twists in your gut as the first notes of Taylor Swift’s ‘Willow’ fill the bar—Kate’s favorite song. The song she put on her playlist a thousand times. The song she labeled yours and Bucky’s. A song with notes and verses that made you see Bucky in a whole new light.

Pietro’s deep and sensual voice carries, grabbing the attention of dozens of customers. The longer he sings, the longer he turns words into wine, the shorter that invisible, glowing string between you and Bucky becomes. Shorter, nearing its final merger, calling two souls to combine. Bucky comes up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, and settling his chin on your shoulder. Slowly, he rocks you both back and forth, dancing. Dancing in a rundown family bar, with snow sneaking through, surrounded by the people you love most.

And you love him, you love him, you love him. You don’t care that he lied to you earlier today. You don’t care about the secret, surprise, or catastrophic revelation. Bucky Barnes is holding you like you’re the Christmas spirit itself, and you love him.

“He’s only looking at her,” Bucky whispers into your ear, ruffling your hair. You follow Pietro’s gaze to the bar, where Kate has paused, towel held in both hands against her chest, an expression of pure awe painted across her elegant face.

There, you realize how much you truly miss every year when you’re off in New York living your life. The number of days and nights and conversations. You miss it all. How long had Pietro been pining over Kate?

You don’t know. You’ll probably never know.

But you’re here now, witnessing it, and it’s enough.

Two other townspeople volunteered for the talent portion after Pietro. The grand total of five thousand was nearing, and you were absolutely sure this game of spin-the-bottle would push it over the top. It was a twenty-dollar charge to participate, and as Kate’s friends, you were basically obligated.

So everyone pushed tables to the side, dragging chairs over to form one large circle. Everyone apart from Kate and Pietro paid to participate. Considering Kate had to continue running the bar and Pietro volunteered to help her, you let it slide.

But if you had to sit in a damn circle and watch Clint kiss Bucky one more damn time, you were going to implode.

“You’re rigging it,” you scold him. “Spin it faster!”

Clint shoots kissy faces at you. “Jealous?”

“I have seen him kiss you, Steve, and Wanda tonight. Your luck is pissing me off.”

Clint cackles, but spins harder this time. It lands on you. With a loud groan, you prepare yourself for his weight as he shoots from his seat, lands in your lap, and smooches you. One large kiss that’s over in under a second. He winks over at Bucky, who’s sitting a couple seats away from you.

Bucky lifts a hand. “It’s a game, Barton.” Clint delivers the statement back in a teasing voice.

It’s your turn to spin. Crouching down, you spin and pray, watching the bottle land on Steve. With a wrinkle of your nose and a slight tilt of the head, you say, “Ew, ready?”

Steve huffs, offended. “Come here and get it over with.”

Skipping over, you grip his cheeks and kiss him quickly. His lips are soft, thank goodness. “Your turn!”

Steve stands to spin the bottle as you return to your seat. The bottle lands on Sam, and their shared kiss is forced at best. Steve gags, “Ugh, it’s like kissing my brother.”

“Let’s not make it into something it’s not,” Sam urges. His spin lands on you, and that it’s even more awkward than the first. But Sam is a good sport, and his kiss is to the side of your mouth. Gentle and sweet, like a friendship kiss.

But now this means it's your turn again, and worry starts building as you think about the number of strangers in the circle. Because kissing people you know is fine and dandy, but strangers are another story. Luckily, the bottle lands on Bucky. Cheers erupt around the circle. Two large strides is all it takes for you to plop down on his lap, and kiss him. With tongue, to Steve's dismay, who’s sitting right beside him.

“I’ll never escape it,” Steve mumbles, but at the same time Clint announces, “Hey, you know what I noticed?”

Pulling yourself from Bucky, you smirk down at him and wink. “What, Clint?”

“You’ve kissed all of your dad’s friends.”

You freeze, as do Bucky’s hands on your waist.

“You slut.”

Flicking your middle finger at him, Clint just laughs louder.

The walk back to your assigned chair is calculated, with a hip sway and a glance over your shoulder. All enough to make Bucky readjust his seated position, crossing an ankle over a knee.

As you plop down in your seat, Quill leans over to say, “That was…A deep one.”

“Yup!”

“Like…You two were really dedicated.”

You laugh, “Well, duh.”

Quill’s eyebrows push together as his mouth forms a confused ‘O’ in response. As if genuinely puzzled. Did he not see you two dancing earlier?

A few more spins of the bottle signal the end. The bottle lands on Quill, and a stunning blonde rises from her chair, glowing in the cheeks. Her blush reaches her neck as her friends hype her up. Chants of “Carol! Carol! Carol!”

Quill, ever the gentleman, kisses her softly and respectfully. Carol’s face turns even redder and her walk back to her seat is dazed. As Quill leans down to spin the bottle, you notice how Bucky frowns at him.

And his frown grows even deeper as the bottle lands on you.

Standing and dusting off your pants, you laugh awkwardly. “Alright, let’s just get this over—”

Quill struts forward, grabs your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. That type of kiss that calls for the push of all emotion in one’s body. That type of kiss that says, I’ve been wanting to do this forever. A kiss that Quill tries to deepen, where his hands are now traveling dangerously low on your back. You push at his chest, and he goes with it. His eyes meet yours—foggy and mystified. Then confused and hurt.

“What did I do?”

The whole bar quiets. Kate even pauses the overhead music like the nosy bitch she is. Words elude your stunted ass.

“Uh.” The cough comes from none other than Peter Parker, who has been sitting in the circle without a single bottle landing on him. “If you didn’t already notice, man—she’s dating Bucky.”

Quill blinks at you, surprised. Nodding, you give him a pained smile. “Thus your kiss was a little…inappropriate.”

Glancing around the circle, you meet the gaze of your friends. Of Wanda, frozen but smiling like a Cheshire cat. Sam and Steve, deers in headlights. Clint, mid-chew on a hot wing and lips twitching upward.

But it’s Bucky that your gaze finds last. There’s something simmering in his irises, but he’s cool otherwise. Leaning back in his chair, calm and collected. Arms crossed, and a smirk threatening to split.

“I think the game is over. Right, guys? Right?” Sam presses, rallying the others to agree. Everyone does. Chairs and tables are put back into their original places while you and Quill just stare at each other, words absent.

Bucky slowly walks to you both, standing to the side, scarily undisturbed. “That’s right!” He snaps his fingers, like he has just remembered something important. “I’m not just a friend. I’m her boyfriend, too.”

You swallow loudly. “I’m his girlfriend.”

Quill looks between you. “I didn’t assume…I’m sorry.”

Bucky lays a hand on Quill’s shoulder, patting once, then twice. “Of course you didn’t. But now you know.” He turns to you, his eyes dark. “I’m getting tired actually. Happy to head home with me?”

It’s not an order. It’s a suggestion. Because even though the obvious answer is to follow Bucky out of here, he's still giving you the chance to choose. So you nod, placing your hand in his outstretched one, and quietly tell Quill goodnight. He remains standing where you left him, watching as Bucky leads you outside, knowing exactly what Bucky’s going to do with you.

“Look,” you start, throwing your purse to the corner of the room. Bucky heads straight for the kitchen, not paying a single glance over his shoulder. “I should have told you yesterday when Peter and I ran into him. But it wasn’t the most important thing on my mind.”

Bucky whirls around, eyebrows high. “Not the most important thing? Doll, it was obvious tonight that Quill thought he stood a chance.”

“Because I failed to mention I was dating you!”

“He kissed you.” And those three words, the way Bucky delivered them, absolutely obliterates you. Because you understand he’s jealous, but he also hurt. You kissed a ton of people tonight, and it was consensual, but Quill’s kiss was too far.

“He kissed you, and you have a history, he’s your age, and I—” His voice cracks at the end. But he steels himself as he says, “And it bothered the fuck out of me.”

Sadly, Bucky’s thought about that before. When he notices the surprise on people’s faces when you introduce him as your partner. When the topic of children is brought up randomly. When visiting your family, seeing your dad, and being his age. It’s all awkward and so not the norm, but would Bucky trade it for something else? Definitely not. He just needs you to know he’s all in. Completely, embarrassingly all in. Fuck the age insecurity. He’s yours and you’re his. He needs confirmation before he—

“God, Bucky.” You race to stand in front of him, cupping his cheeks. You don’t continue speaking until his wounded eyes meet yours. “I love you. I dated that man ten years ago, and it was a healthy and mutual break-up. I choose you.”

“But—”

“But nothing.”

For a second, Bucky seems to accept this. His blue eyes go soft, familiar and warm. Yet, he closes them and breathes in deeply. His grip on your shoulders tightens. “He touched you. And even if we speak of it during sex, sweetheart—I do not share unless we both agree to it beforehand.”

Furrowing your brows, you reply, “Yeah, I get that. I don’t want him in any way, shape, or form.”

“I'm the only one who touches you.”

Ah. You see what’s happening. Bucky’s gone territorial. Alpha-male status. It was unnecessary because you definitely did not harbor romantic or sexual feelings for Quill. Not even a sliver. But for some reason—and you’re betting that reason has a shit ton to do with the age difference—Bucky feels the need to remind you, everyone, of his claim.

“You’re the only one I let touch me, anyway.”

It’s sarcastic, and totally not what Bucky needs right now. With a sharp inhale, Bucky orders, “Kneel.”

Oh fuck. Okay, shit. He’s going to go full-on ballistic alpha-male. You’ve role-played these roles before, dominant and submissive and all that jazz, but this included actual jealousy. What would it be like?

“Kneel,” he repeats, his hot breath hitting your cheeks. You’re about to find out what it’ll feel like, that’s for fucking sure.

Slipping onto the floor, you kneel before him, gazes connected. His metal hand reaches forward, gripping your chin roughly. “I’m the only one who gets to kiss you. Taste you. Fuck you.”

You whimper softly, trying your best to nod. But Bucky grips your chin harder, the action causing your mouth to drop open further.

“I know you understand, sweetheart. I don’t need your confirmation. I just need you to listen.”

Your thighs brace, wanting to inch closer together. You don’t do good on your knees—they bruise too easily.

“I thought we were clear. You belong to me, and I belong to you. But it seems I have to remind you.”

Slowly, you let your eyes close. Then Bucky’s fingers grip your cheeks instead, holding you steady. “You will look at me. You will know I’m the one fucking you.”

Bucky lets go of your face to reach for his belt. Excitement floods your veins, causing you to go hot and cold at the same time. The sound of Bucky’s falling belt buckle is one of your top five favorite sounds in the world, a sound that mixes your insides and drenches you instantly.

Leaning on the dining table, Bucky lowers his boxers just enough to pull his cock out. He’s half-hard, thickening just from the sight of you looking up at him. He doesn’t need to command you or give specific instructions—they’re clear enough.

With his metal hand cradling the back of your head, Bucky pushes you forward so your lips make contact with his hot skin. Slowly, teasingly, you kiss up his cock, poking your tongue out only lightly. It’s enough to drive him wild, and Bucky pushes you harder. “Get to work. The quicker you finish this, the quicker I’m fucking you.”

One last stripe and you take Bucky in your mouth, suckling the tip and sliding down gradually. You’re familiar enough with his cock to know just how quickly you could dare push, how much deeper. With only half of him in, a few light sucks wets him enough that you can move faster, taking him until your nose nearly touches his lower stomach. Gagging, you go to pull off but Bucky holds you tight, groaning.

“Tap my thigh if you really need it.”

Nodding the best you’re able, you continue bobbing. Throat clenching, saliva dripping, lipstick smudged. Painting his perfect cock a pinkish red. You can handle it by breathing through your nose, pacing yourself.

His roughness is not a new concept. It’s no new exploration. But the jealousy sprinkled on top? New, new, new. And it was making you physically ache, as if your center was made to be full and having an absence was sin.

“Just like—fuck—I love you.”

His words threaten to make you smile. Bucky is fully hard and aching inside your hot mouth, holding himself from toppling over the edge. On the rarest occasions does Bucky come within five minutes of you sucking him off. But when it’s this good, when your tongue feels just the added bit of velvety and soaked, when your enthusiasm tops his, when your anticipation tops his—he’s at risk of coming down your throat.

“C’mon, Doll. Get me right there. Right there,” he moans, tugging you back so he can meet your eyes. “I know you want me to come inside you. You want me to come inside you?”

Moaning, you suck faster. It’s his answer. “You want me to come inside your mouth?”

You try to shake your head, bobbing instead.

“No? Where do you want me to come?”

The pressure of his hand releases, and you pop off him. Swallowing in a deep breath, saliva dripping a long strand down your chin, you whine, “I want you to come inside me…Inside my…”

“Inside your…what? Pussy? Cunt? Use your words, sweetheart. You’re not a kid.”

No, you aren’t. Twenty-eight now, your age difference wasn’t all that shocking when introducing yourselves to new people. Bucky is forty-one, still too old for you by societal standards, but that fucking nickname…

Kid. Like he knew more than you. Like he had to walk you through the simplest of tasks. Like he held some form of authority.

“Come inside my pussy.” Even now, no matter how many times you’ve spoken dirty words to him, pussy was the hardest to deliver. Because it sounded so degrading, so nasty. But it was Bucky’s favorite way of describing you down there, the word that flowed more easily off his eager tongue. The word you hated saying, but loved him repeating.

Bucky hoists you up with unbelievable strength, holding you steady to him. Your legs wobble, knees numb. “Strip,” he commands, already helping you in removing your shirt. You both undress as quickly as you can, tension heavy in the air.

There was no one else home. Your dad wouldn’t be home soon, either. Bucky has you all to himself, and it excited you to a whole new level. Because this Bucky Barnes looked half in love, half furious. Full of pent-up jealousy and archaic alpha feelings that were battling his sensitive side.

Bucky glances toward the stairs, then to you, and it clicks. No longer can he restrain himself from burying himself inside you. No longer can he avoid feeling your warmth combine with his. He pulls you to him, a fervent display of impatience, and kisses you. His soft lips mold perfectly with yours, but it’s the teeth clattering and tongue battle that does it for you. Grabbing at his hands, you push them toward your hips, silently begging him to hurry. He backs you up to the couch, against the side table, but ultimately pushes you to the floor. Facing the front door, on your stomach, ready to be devoured.

“I’ve always wanted to be caught again,” Bucky admits, grabbing a pillow from the couch and shoving it beneath your face. You thank him with a long whimper, resting your cheek against it. He hoists your hips up, presenting your backside and drenched center. “And I was this close. This fucking close to ripping your clothes off in the middle of that goddamn circle—” Pushing your head down, Bucky leans over you and drags his cockhead against your cunt. “And fucking you right in front of that bold ex of yours.”

Bucky pushes into you, holding you down, making sure the slide is perfect. All too easily he buries himself to the hilt, hips connected to your backside. He’s always so deep at this angle, in this position. Like he’ll rip you in half, like his cock massages that spot specifically. So full, and ready to be fuller.

“I…love…you.” The words are wrestled from your chest as Bucky starts pounding you from behind, hitting every pleasurable zone flawlessly. “Only you.”

“I know that, sweetheart,” he grunts. “But it’s the fact that he’s touched you before.”

Gripping the carpet the best you can, you aid his mission by moving along with him. Pushing yourself to him, arching your back. “It wasn’t…important!”

Bucky grinds against you, pushing you down by the back instead of your head now. It gives you a breather. “Did you let him fuck you?”

Twice. You were in high school. Sometimes boyfriends and girlfriends have sex. But as Bucky pounds into you, the sound of your mess so gloriously intoxicating, the memory is foggy. Unimportant. All you feel is Bucky.

“Just two times.”

Bucky’s hips halt, and a rough intake of air is all the evidence you receive that his jealousy is through the roof.

“Did you scream for him like you do for me?” He slides out slowly, leaving only the tip. You wiggle your ass in invitation, but Bucky simply smacks it. The sting makes you bear your face deeper into the pillow. “Did you squeeze this pussy on his cock like you do for me? Did you let him come inside of you?”

At that, you shake your head, probably rubbing some eyeliner off in the process. “No. No to all of it. I was…I was not how I am now.”

“Oh? And how are you now?” He slides in, then out, giving your ass another harsh smack.

You sob, your walls clenching around him. “I’m in love with you. I only let you love me. I only let you come inside me.”

Your voice is raspy, lungs strained from the amount of pressure being applied. Bucky seems to notice, so he hooks an arm underneath your chest, dragging you upward until your back smacks against his front.

“I love you so much,” he groans, kissing and licking at your shoulders and neck. “You know I’m yours, right? Say I’m yours.”

His hot breath coats the sweat on your skin. His voice sounds so desperate, so strained, so deserving of your declaration that you immediately gratify it. “You’re mine.”

He holds you to him, fucking you with such an intensity that you’re sure your words have just been carved into his heart.

“You’re mine, Bucky. All mine. You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”

Planting his cheek over yours, his flesh fingers over your clit, it only takes a few more thrusts before you’re coming around him, and he deep inside of you. Painting you his, accepting your words as truth.

Languid, he guides you down onto the carpet, falling beside you. Breathing heavily, you turn to him and cup a hand over one of his cheeks. Simply looking at him, smiling.

His mouth twitches, and he reddens. “Was that a little too far?”

You shake your head, bringing your arm up so you can rest your cheek on it. “No. I like when you get jealous.”

He huffs a laugh. “It makes me feel hot and toxic at the same time.”

Giggling, you say, “It makes me feel wanted and degraded at the same time.”

He leans forward to kiss your forehead. Softly, he whispers, “And you’re mine.”

Your heart swells, and somewhere in this large universe of strings and lights, you know those shared declarations to be authentic.

Christmas Eve. A morning you’ve come to anticipate. A morning filled with low snores and a cold room, twisted bedsheets and snow. Last year, the kitchen downstairs smelled like cinnamon. You can’t smell anything quite yet, which was odd. Your dad usually started baking for the party around four. The answer is given as you crack one eye open, seeing that the sun hasn’t even risen yet. There’s a soft blue glow, but it’s still a little before dawn.

Stretching, you also realize that no one is lying beside you. Bucky must have snuck away after you fell asleep—which was the smart thing to do, considering Captain Rogers was snoring like a freight train on the floor.

Still, you didn’t have to wake up next to Bucky to enjoy Christmas Eve morning. It was a simple, tranquil scene in itself.

Your phone vibrates on the bedside table, waking you fully. The light blinds you as you pick it up and yank the charger out, pressing ‘answer’ without even seeing the caller name. Your voice is raspy, your throat sore. “Hello?”

“Bumblebee?”

You sit up quickly, confusion and worry flooding your veins. “Dad?”

“Are you home?”

“I am. So are Bucky and Steve. Why? Is everything okay?” It doesn’t matter what his answer is at this point—whether it’s negative or minimal—you’re already hopping out of bed in search of sweatpants.

“It burned down.”

Halting, frozen, you stare directly at the blue hues bursting through your curtains. “...The bar?”

Not the bar. Please, please, please. That was Kate’s prize possession. The one thing she owned fully at twenty-eight, her home.

Throwing a sweater over your shoulders, you fling a throw pillow at Steve. “Steve.”

He grumbles and turns over. His face scrunches as you turn on the bedside light. “Dad, keep talking to me. What happened?”

Now Steve lunges from his messy pile of blankets. He’s changing out of his sweatpants just as your dad replies, “The flower shop.”

You meet Steve’s eye, knowing damn well he heard the words. Steve bursts out of your room and downstairs, probably going to wake Bucky, Sam, and Peter. “Please tell me they weren’t inside. Because…because you know how sometimes Clint likes to sleep in his office? Wanda sometimes—some—sometimes works through the night making bouquets. Especially during this season.”

You’re sobbing, flying down the stairs and to the front door. Several voices call to you to stop, but you can’t. Not as your dad says, “I don’t know, Bumblebee. I was at Monica’s and Kate called me. She didn’t say anything else because she didn’t know anything else.”

The snow beneath your feet crunches and burns, and it’s then that you realize you disregarded shoes. And socks. With each step, the cold seeps into your sensitive feet, torching your feet like dry ice. Why does the cold burn so much?

They could have been in there. The shop is closer than Clint’s house and they were all drinking. They could have stopped there to rest until morning. And your dad didn’t say, The flower shop is on fire.

No. He said it burned down.

The same loud voices trail you from behind, sprinting after you. But you can’t stop. You need to know that your friends are okay. That their business can be salvaged. That their parent’s business can be salvaged. That no one was hurt. That Christmas Eve is just Christmas Eve.

It’s a five minute run, but you don’t feel it. Sure, your feet are now numb and your lungs ache, but you don’t feel tired. How could you be tired when—

Stopping abruptly, you try to blink away the onslaught of tears. Your lips catch them falling, the taste of salt overwhelming. Bucky runs into you from behind, holding you to his naked chest as he stares at the same thing you’re staring at.

The empty spot in between two charred buildings, the only missing center of the whole street. Nothing but black wood and curling smoke, firefighters and police.

To your right, you find your dad running toward you, Monica following with a hand covering her mouth.

And to your left, Clint and Wanda holding Pietro’s shoulders as he cries softly.

The Christmas lights that are strung from one building to another, crossing the street in a glorious zig-zag, flicker and turn off automatically, welcoming the morning sun and its natural shine.

TAGLIST: [on masterlist]

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #warmth of winter sequel #the warmth of the future #part two #captainsimagines #by Moni #holiday fanfic #dbf!bucky #dbf!buckybarnes #avengers au

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jadedvibes · 2 years

Text

Uncovered

Summary: Your secret relationship with Bucky is finally revealed.

Part 2 for Marked, you'll definitely want to read that short fic first.

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, hickeys, fluffy feels, pet names, lots of beverages, avengers tower au, beefy!bucky being an absolute dork with a scarf.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: You both gave me some great feedback, so here's how Natasha discovers the truth about these two! @justsebstan @aquariusbarnes

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

That night after you had fallen asleep, Bucky slipped out of your room to get a drink. He had spotted your red knit scarf on your desk and placed it around his neck before leaving. After all, Natasha did say that he should cover up and he figured you might like to tell her about your relationship yourself.

He heard Nat chatting with Bruce and made a show of securing your scarf over his shoulder rather dramatically as he walked past the two of them sitting on the couches.

“Happy?” he teased, running his hand over the scarf pointedly.

Nat furrowed her brows. “Shouldn’t your hickeys be faded by now? And where did you get that, I swear I’ve seen it before.”

Bucky shrugged, “The store.” He wasn’t in the mood to explain, he just wanted to make some tea before returning to you. That’s how he ended up wearing your scarf with his white tee shirt and black joggers, an outfit that made zero sense.

“Fine, keep your secrets. And in the future, put the scarf on before the sweet girl with the most loving heart has to be subjected to that,” Nat gestured towards his neck with an irritated look.

Bucky bit his lip, reminding himself that you would prefer to tell her yourself. “Not a problem,” he saluted her from the kitchen.

Nat sauntered into the kitchen to grab an apple just as Bucky finished pouring out two cups of chamomile tea. One in the wolf mug you had gotten for him, the other in your favorite red mug. The night was still young, and you had fallen asleep early; he had a feeling you’d wake up and want something to drink soon.

“Two cups?” Nat inquired.

Bucky’s eyes widened, he had to think of a good reason. “No, well yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’m really thirsty.”

“Then why didn’t you use a bigger mug? And isn’t that Y/N’s fav–”

“What is this, an interrogation?” he blurted out as he dragged a hand through his hair. “I have to go, my tea is getting cold.” He swiftly strode out with his drinks, hoping that the jig wasn’t up for your sake.

Natasha watched as he walked off with that oddly familiar scarf trailing behind him. The normally stoic Bucky was flustered as he covered for the recipient of that second mug. Given your nonchalance towards his earlier love-bitten state, she knew then what you had both worked so hard to conceal – you were sleeping with Bucky.

┈┈┈┈┈・・

The following morning you decided to grab coffee before Bucky woke up. He looked too peaceful to disturb, so you figured a quick jaunt to the kitchen would be for the best; that’d give you more time for cuddles and kisses prior to starting your day.

You knew that you could start telling people about your relationship, but Bucky had done a number on your neck and you figured you may as well cover it up so that the two of you could share your new official status together.

After a quick scan of your room you realized that your scarf wasn’t where you’d left it, so you decided to go without. It wasn’t super likely that you’d run into anyone on your way.

Just as you finished pouring out the second mug of coffee, Nat came in and sat in the seat in front of you. So much for an inconspicuous little trip.

“Two cups,” she smirked as her gaze glossed over your neck, scattered with hickeys. “Good for you, Barnes isn’t the only one that deserves to have some fun.”

You smiled awkwardly. “Right, of course not.”

“So this was why you weren’t upset when you saw him yesterday? Already had someone of your own.” She feigned ignorance, although she was already certain about what was really going on.

Biting your lip to suppress a smile, you remembered that Bucky wanted to tell everyone, and perhaps you could drop the act now. “I wasn’t upset for a few reasons, Nat.” Heat rushed to your cheeks as you were about to confess the truth. But then Bucky walked in, wearing your scarf along with his pajamas again.

Nat cocked an eyebrow at Bucky. “They really should be faded by now, no?”

“Oh, yeah… I’m cold,” he lied, smiling sheepishly at you.

Her gaze returned to yours, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “How long?”

Bucky came up next to you, breathing a sigh of relief.

You reached up and started to undo the scarf. “A while,” you grinned, unwrapping your scarf from your goofy boyfriend’s neck.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before grabbing his coffee.

“So those flowers I saw Bucky bringing in last week, those were for you?”

You shrugged with a dopey grin.

“Who’d you think they were for? I’ve only wanted her for as long as I’ve known her.” Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” she shook her head in disbelief. It was apparently more than hooking up, and she was astonished by the fact that she’d missed the signs.

Sam stepped into the kitchen, seeking out coffee for himself. “Hey Buck, are we still on for training this afternoon?” He asked as he poured out a cup, unaffected by the way the giant man was wrapped around you.

Bucky nodded casually, not trying to hide a thing.

Nat looked between the men. “You knew?!”

Sam smirked. “Some spy you are.”

“You all suck,” she sarcastically rolled her eyes. Nat couldn't believe that she was one step behind you two, but regardless, she was more than content to see her friends so happy together.

“I love you!” you exclaimed to placate your best friend. It was hard not to feel a little bad for hiding things from her.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll discuss this later.” A trace of a smile crossed her face and you knew that all would be well.

Inhaling a breath, relief washed over you as you let go of the tension you didn’t even know you were carrying by keeping the secret.

Standing abruptly, Nat gestured towards the couches. “C’mon Sam, let's leave the lovebirds so you can fill me in on all the fun gossip you have on them.”

Sam chuckled, following after her. “You would not believe what I saw Bucky wearing as he snuck out of Y/N’s room.”

“Samuel, I swear to god,” Bucky warned.

You giggled at his empty threat before leaning your head back against his solid, warm chest. You were grateful that you’d no longer have to hide the way you felt about him from the world.

Bucky tightened the hold that he had on you before whispering in your ear. “You laughing at me, baby?”

Turning in his arms, a soft smile tugged at your lips as you met his deep blue gaze. “Why, I’d never.”

He pouted his bottom lip as he pretended to sulk for a brief moment before letting out a laugh himself. He was fine with Sam divulging all his secrets because he had you, completely.

Bucky beamed as he brushed his thumb over your cheekbone, taking in the beauty of the woman he loved so deeply. Clasping your hand, he brought it up and put it over his heart, finally ready to tell you his sweetest secret. “You know… I love you.”

You felt the strong beat hammering hard in his chest. Your own heart racing just as fast as he smiled down at you.

Leaning up, you pressed a sweet, tender kiss to his lips. “What a coincidence… because I love you too.”

The truth was uncovered, and somehow that brought you even closer to the man that held your heart from the day you met, and every single moment after.

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that-weird-marvel-addict · 2 years

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SHADOWS FALL UPON US

Dark captain America au

The world grows a step closer to darkness. The mind of the only man who could save us from the world crumbling has shifted. The world grows silent,you can hear his laughter travel across the seas. Do we hold our breath? Do we bow our heads? Do we kneel to a man who has been wrapped up in the grasp of hydra? Is there any hope now? It’s time to see what fate has in store, for the red skull has enchanted a man who we thought could never slip. And as he does, so do we…….

Chapters to be released exclusively here on tumblr

#future project announcement #marvel fan story #dark captain au #captain america: first avenger #i made this myself #horror #blood and gore #suspense #romance #rated r

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dem-obscure-imagines · 3 months

Text

You're So Timeless | Vol. 2

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: In 1943, Steve Rogers was visited by his soulmate. He fell hard. Problem is, she was from the future and didn’t stick around for long. Now, in the twenty-first century, he finally found her again, except this version of her hasn’t met him yet and won’t know he’s her soulmate for another year.

Note: So this is a combination of my other two Steve Rogers soulmate AU fics, but lengthened and fleshed out into a full fic. I was literally possessed to write this. I have no other explanation. I really like how it came out. I gave this one chapter headings (I am also going to post it to Ao3) and yes some are Taylor Swift titles. Sorry about that. It takes place roughly around the time Civil War would, but we have managed to avoid the war this time around. I also moved some other characters up the timeline because I think they’re neat and I said so. Without further ado, please enjoy my new Magnum Opus.

Also Tumblr made me split it into two parts. This is PART 2. Part 1 is linked HERE.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence/injuries, soulmate au, tons of mutual pining, kind of a slowburn but in reverse. Light angst, but a happy ending.

Word Count: 38.7k total (I am not sorry)

Reader Is: Enhanced (forcefields), 24 years old, female

The Recovery Period

When you woke up, Steve was there sitting in the infirmary, sleeping. His head was leaning back against the wall, snores deep and quiet. It was dark. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You blinked a few times and took a breath, your chest protesting when you did.

The monitor you were hooked to started beeping loudly and Steve awoke, meeting your eyes. He called for Bruce and stood from his chair, approaching the side of your bed. You reached for his hand and he gave it to you immediately, fingers latching onto yours, as though to prove you were awake, that you were alive.

Bruce arrived and gave you the rundown, the grenade, which you remembered, the fact that you had a cracked rib and quite a bit of bruising, but that you had gotten very lucky otherwise. He prescribed you some pain meds and six weeks of rest with a brace before he’d reevaluate.

And at first, it wasn’t bad. Sam played a lot of Fortnite with you. You were pretty good at it, surprisingly. Tony had a pretty extensive collection of movies and you had every snack you could ever dream of. You got some reading done, you picked up crochet, and everyone spent a lot of time entertaining you.

Bucky introduced himself. Steve had talked about him a bit before you met him, but the man standing in front of you was a lot quieter than you’d expected, more timid. You figured he’d open up more once he was convinced none of you were scared of him. And you weren’t. The dangerous part of him was the Winter Soldier, something Wanda had been working with him to unwind from the depths of his mind.

After a few days, when your pain had toned down a bit, Natasha sat you on a stool in the kitchen and gave your hair a trim, getting rid of the singed ends. Wanda got into the undercover stash in one of the bathrooms and found a few bottles of hair bleach and some blue dye. Steve found the three of you in there with hair shears, and a bowl of mixed blue dye that Wanda was painting onto your freshly bleached ends.

He had no complaints. After all, blue was your color. It was quite a bit shorter, too, but he thought it suited you. He thought everything suited you, to be honest.

You did some online shopping in those first few weeks. Your Avengers allowance was no joke and you had barely touched any of it yet, which meant a new reading chair was well within the budget, a cool round one than you could hang from the ceiling. It was Steve that found you pushing the giant box down the hall when it arrived.

“Hey! Woah, are you supposed to be pushing that?”

You froze, turning to face him. “Maaaaybe.”

“Alright, move.” He chuckled, rolling up his sleeves and taking over, pushing it down the hall to your room. “What is this anyway?”

“New reading chair. It’s really cool, it hangs from the ceiling.”

“And you were going to do that part, too?”

“I was gonna figure it out. Maybe use my powers for that part.”

“Ah, right. Forgot about those.”

“Me too, honestly. Haven’t used them much lately.”

“For good reason.” He straightened out, the box now sitting in the middle of your room. “How are you feeling, better?”

“A lot better. Still a little sore, but my bruises are starting to clear up.” You motioned to the brace you had to wear around your middle. “Might be out of this thing before six weeks if I can help it.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see what Bruce says.”

“Of course.” You nodded, using a pair of scissors to slice the tape along the top of the box.

Steve opened it up and started taking parts out. You reached for the instructions and sat down next to him on the floor, familiarizing yourself with the process. It didn’t look too difficult and it was only a few pieces of hardware.

“I’m gonna go grab some of Tony’s tools.” He told you, walking towards Tony’s workroom. He returned a few minutes later with a drill and a screwdriver. “Alright, where are we starting?”

“Okay, so we attach the chair part to the support chains, and then those get screwed into the ceiling. Like this.” You showed him the diagram.

“I’m no handyman, but I think we can figure it out.” He grinned, scooting a little closer to you.

“Oh I’m sure we can.”

It didn’t take long. Less than an hour. The two of you talked, joked, laughed. Eventually, you used your powers to hold the thing in place so Steve could screw it into the ceiling. He got off the stepladder and sat in the chair, testing the strength of the chair himself before deciding it was good enough for you. With a smile, he got up and motioned for you to give it a try.

You put the cushions on the chair and sat down, smiling. “I’ve always wanted a chair like this.”

“Well I’m glad I could help that dream come true.” He chuckled. He handed you the book sitting on your desk. “Here, give it a real test.”

“Oh good idea.” You chuckled, positioning the book in your hands, curling your legs into your desired reading position. Yep, it worked. And it was pretty comfortable. “Now all I need is a little lamp over here.”

“Let me know when that comes in.” Steve chuckled, thumbs tucked into his pockets. “I’ll be here.”

Steve watched you with a soft smile, how happy you were. Maybe someday, he would build other things for you, in a house you shared. A nice little place in the suburbs, or on a farm somewhere, like Clint had made for his wife, Laura. He’d build you a million reading chairs. Hell, he’d build you a whole library if it’d put that smile on your face.

“You ever built Legos before?” you asked.

“I don’t even know what those are.”

“Alright, we’ll fix that. There’s a really easy fix to that, actually.” You pulled out your phone, clicked a few links, and then looked back up at him with a smile. “It’s on its way.”

“What’s that look for?”

“You will find out in two to three business days.”

***

By the time your Millennuim Falcon Lego set came in, Steve had been sent on another mission. And while he was gone, the Compound got an unexpected visitor in the form of Scott Lang, who Sam found on the roof and promptly got his ass kicked by while you were sitting at the monitors, one of the only things that you could do with your current injury.

“Don’t tell Steve.”

“Oh I won’t.” You spun out of your office chair, made a portal to the warehouse, and stepped through it, using your augmented goggles to find the guy, trapping him in a tiny forcefield. Sam came into the warehouse shortly after, looking at the bubble you’d made with interest.

“Got him. Ow!” Something nipped at your ankle and you looked down to find hundreds of ants. “Oh FUCK no.” You dropped him and kicked off the ants, making a platform of energy to stand on so they couldn’t crawl on you.

“Hey man, she’s injured!” Sam called into the room, looking around for wherever he had gone.

“Sorry!” The attacker replied.

And that was the last you saw or heard from him until Sam tracked him down, offering him membership on the team, if he so wanted it. Someone who shrunk could be a great asset on the team. Which is why when he told the rest of you about Hope, someone who did the same but with wings, obviously, she was invited, too.

The team was growing, and as it did, the Compound felt less empty, which was nice, especially when the team was split off doing their own things.

Steve came back shortly after, looking tired. It hadn’t been anything too bad, from what you’d heard, but he, Natasha, Clint, and Tony had been gone for a week. Still, the moment he was back, he popped his head into your room.

“Hey.”

“When did you guys get back?” You asked, looking up from your book, curled up in your reading chair.

“Just now. Um, I’m gonna take a shower, and then…Legos?” He asked, eyes earnest. You could tell he had been thinking about it the whole time he’d been gone.

“Oh absolutely. I’ve got ‘em ready to go.”

“Excellent. See you in twenty.” He saluted, walking down the hall to his room. You got the massive box of Legos out of your closet and brought it out to the table in the lounge, waiting patiently for Steve, who got out of the shower not that long after, dressed in sweats and a tank-top, still a bit damp from the water.

“Tadaaaa~” you said, pushing the box across the table.

His eyes lit up as soon as he realized what it was. “Where did you get this?”

“Amazon.”

“It comes with Han Solo?” Steve asked, looking at the pictures of the minifigures on the box.

“Yeah, of course it does. Comes with Leia, too.” You grinned, opening the box and dealing out instruction manuals, sorting the bags into neat little piles.

“This is great.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged. “I owe you one for building my reading chair. Now pay attention; This little orange thing is a Lego separator. It’ll help if you get them stuck together and can’t get them apart. Oh, and do not step on them. It will hurt so bad.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for the heads-up. So where do we start?”

Catch Me Now

Finally, after what felt like the longest recovery period ever, you were cleared once more for missions and training. However, you didn’t have any at the moment. Missions, that was. You were back to training with the others three times a week. Steve had you back on a workout regimen, but he was treating you different, like at any moment your rib might randomly re-crack.

Wanda and Vision got sent off on a mission with Clint, a recruitment mission. Apparently, there was another archer on his radar. A good one. It was his hope that with another archer on the team, he could take a bit of a step back, still be involved when he was needed, but hopefully, he’d be able to spend some more time with his family.

This meant, however, that you didn’t have anyone to go to the local theater’s Hunger Games marathon with. You asked Natasha first, but she was busy looking through some files, working out the details of the coming missions.

“I think Steve is here today. You could ask him if he wants to go.”

You could, you supposed. You felt a lot closer to him, lately. You had been spending a lot of time with him, between the extra training and the Legos. He had custody of the Millennium Falcon set, but he’d given you the Leia minifigure. She was sitting on your desk in your room.

So, with a shrug, you agreed, walking down the hall to Steve’s room and knocking on the door. He and Bucky were in there, talking hushedly about something, but they quieted at the sound of your knuckles against the wood.

The door opened and Bucky looked down at you, smiling when he realized who it was. “Oh, hey, (Y/N).” He welcomed you in, shooting Steve a look.

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s going on?”

“If you’re busy, I can come back later.”

“Oh, no, we’re just…catching up.” Steve said.

“Gotcha. So um…Wanda was supposed to go to a movie marathon with me at the mall today, but she forgot she had to go on that mission, so I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I already bought the tickets.”

“Oh, sure. What movies?”

“The Hunger Games.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Steve nodded. “Just let me get changed.”

“You can come too, if you want, Bucky. I’m sure they’re not sold out.”

“Oh, that is alright, (Y/N). Thank you, though. I’ve gotta work myself up to public outings.” He looked between the two of you, a weird sparkle in his eye. “You two have fun.”

“Will do.” Steve replied, chuckling as his friend left.

You left after, getting changed into the outfit you’d picked out. It was pretty simple: a bleach-dyed Hunger Games shirt, some comfy joggers for the long day ahead, and a pair of slip-on shoes. You grabbed your purse and walked back out to the living room, where Steve was waiting, dressed in his civilian disguise, a baseball cap and glasses. No one would ever recognize him in glasses.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” You nodded, plucking your keys off of the hook by the door.

“Oh, I can drive.” Steve offered.

“Okay.” You agreed, putting your keys back.

He picked up his instead, from the hook next to yours. You walked out and got in Steve’s car, hopping in the passenger seat. The mall was about an hour out. Steve took the backroads, the scenic route. But you didn’t have to give him directions. He knew where he was going. After all, it was the same mall where he had met you.

You gazed out the window, watching the trees go by, looking for deer. Steve gazed over at you every so often, thinking about how someday, when you were driving places, he’d be able to reach over and take your hand, bring it to his lips. His heart ached just thinking about it. The next four and a half months couldn’t pass quickly enough.

“So what are these movies about? I keep hearing about them.” He asked, desperate to hear your voice.

“Are you familiar with the dystopian genre?”

“Yeah, kinda. Like weird, bad future kinda stuff.”

“Exactly. So this one is in a world called Panem, which is supposed to be North America hundreds of years from now. There’s twelve districts and a Capitol that rules over them all. Because of a rebellion about seventy-four years earlier, every year, two kids are chosen from each district to battle to the death in an arena.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah it’s kind of a lot. It’s really good, though. Lots of commentary on the United States government. No offense.”

He chuckled. “None taken. The America I stood for back then…I’m learning it was a different America from the one we live in now. But it’s hard to shake a name that’s been stuck with you for the better part of a century.”

“What would you choose?”

“What name?”

“Yeah, if you got to choose again, now, what codename would you choose?”

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Something cool. I’d need help workshopping. And you? If you got to choose again?”

“I’m good with Waypoint. For a while, at least.” You shrugged. “It’s kinda fitting, all things considered.”

“It is. Suits you.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “So how is everything? How is Bucky doing?”

“Good. They’re um, scheduling a day to test out his…what’re they called, his trigger words? To see if Wanda’s tinkering in his head has been working.”

“Oh wow. That sounds like a lot.”

“It is. He’s nervous, but he knows it has to be done.” Steve sighed and gave a shrug. “And whatever happens, he’s got us to catch him, figure out what comes next.”

“Absolutely.” You nodded.

Steve pulled into the mall parking lot, following the signs to find the doors closest to the theater. You handed him his ticket, which was printed on shimmery, gold paper, the Mockingjay symbol stamped on in black ink. You reached into your pocket and handed him a length of string with beads on it.

“I made it for Wanda, so it might not fit.” You warned.

He read the words, spaced between orange and black and gold beads. “District 12?”

“It’ll make more sense in a bit.” You chuckled and held out your wrist, where the matching one was. “Gotta represent.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He slipped the bracelet on, the beads spaced out and stretched around his wide wrist. “See, fits fine.”

“Uh-huh, sure does.” You laughed. “Look, it fits perfectly. You can almost read it.”

“Just about.” He grinned, reaching for the door handle.

“So, what’s our cover?”

“What?”

“Our cover. We can’t be Avengers here.”

“Right, um…” Steve thought for a moment. “You work at the library. I’m your boyfriend and you dragged me here, but I’m very supportive.”

“The most supportive.” You agreed. “Alright, I’ll play. Let’s go.”

Steve locked up the car, the horn honking as the two of you walked towards the entrance of the mall. You led him upstairs to the movie theater entrance. You checked in with your tickets and the girls at the table gave you your commemorative popcorn tins and cups. Steve went to get the popcorn filled. You stood over by the soda fountains. He returned with a huge grin and a bucket of popcorn.

“Look at this! They’re so big now.”

You laughed. “How big were they before?”

“Little paper bag.” He chuckled and turned towards the Cocacola Freestyle machine, looking at the buttons with wonder. “Alright what is this?”

“The future of beverage technology.” You told him, putting ice in your cup and tapping one of the beverage options, opening up all the extra flavors before choosing yours.

Steve poked the Coke button and read over all the options before settling on Cherry Vanilla Coke. He snapped the lid on and put a straw in it, taking a cursory sip. He smiled. “Takes me back.”

“Got that vintage taste?” You asked.

He nodded. “At the risk of sounding like a commercial, yeah, it does.”

You led Steve to the theater where you’d be spending the entire rest of the day. You walked him through the schedule. First was Hunger Games from noon until 2:22. There’d be a ten minute break, then Catching Fire from 2:32 to 4:58. There was a forty-five minute break for dinner. Then Mockingjay Parts 1 and 2 until just after ten. Every movie, they punched a hole in your ticket, and if you got all four, they were handing out little prizes, supposedly. You weren’t sure what yet, but you were excited to find out.

“Got a long day ahead of us.”

“I better not catch you nodding off.” You teased, kicking back the recliner.

“I don’t snore that loud.” He said, following your lead and pressing the same button to lift his. God, theaters had changed. He set the popcorn tin between the two of you. He couldn’t count on two hands how many pointless dates he’d gone on with Bucky before he met you for the first time, how many pretty dames he’d offered popcorn, only for them to completely blow him off. But when he’d taken you to the movies back then, you’d shared gladly. And today was no different. You scooted closer, your hand brushing his every so often.

The movie started and Steve watched, enamored. It was different than the movies he was used to, sure. Maybe Star Wars had warmed him up, or maybe it was the fact that you were sitting there beside him, but he loved every second.

Between movies, the two of you went back out to the lobby to get your tickets punched for Catching Fire, stretch your legs and get refills. Steve noticed a handout for the flashback movies that were coming up. His eyes landed on the Wizard of Oz and his gaze softened.

“They still show this?” Steve asked, pointing to the poster.

“Yeah, every handful of years. It’s a classic.” You smiled. “I think I was Dorothy for Halloween one year.”

“Would you go see it with me?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

Sure, things were different between you and Steve than he thought it would be. He knew it would be a while before you’d know. You’d told him you’d been friends for about a year before visiting him, but it felt so much longer, living through every day, scared to even take your hand without sending the wrong message.

You saved him the trouble, though, reaching out for his free hand. He took it without hesitation, giving it a squeeze. God, he’d do anything to kiss you, but he knew that would be stepping clear over that line. Holding hands was friendly enough. Hell, you held Wanda’s hand all the time and that didn’t mean anything. He was pretty sure, anyway.

“Where’d you go just now?” You asked, your hand his anchor in the moment, keeping him from drifting back off into the past again.

“Nowhere, I just…this is nice. Thanks for taking me out.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”

You went back into the theater, hand in hand, carrying your refills. This time, you’d gotten a slushee, and he had decided to do the same. You settled back into your seats, assuming your spots with the people you had been sitting near before. If anything, there were even more people in the theater for Catching Fire.

Steve took a sip of the slushee, looking over at you. “It’s cold.”

“Yeah, it’s ice.” You laughed. “Do you like it?”

He scrunched his face. “Ooh, brainfreeze.”

“You’ve gotta go slow.”

“Lesson learned.”

The lights dimmed and you grinned, looking back at the screen, missing the longing look in Steve’s eyes, admiring the way your face was lit by the glow. And in those seats, once again, he was that little guy from Brooklyn, watching a movie with his soulmate.

***

Two and a half hours later, the theater lights went up and you had forty-five minutes to kill until the next one started. You wandered down to the food court to get something to eat.

“So what did he mean there’s no District 12?” Steve asked when you settled down at one of the tables. Shoppers walked all around, laden with paper bags full of goods. It was a kind of busy day, actually, but it was fine. You liked to peoplewatch.

“When the books came out, I had to wait a whole year to get the answer. I think you can handle the next forty minutes.”

“There are books?”

“I have them. You can borrow them. And they are even better than the movies, if you can believe that.”

“They must be pretty damn good, then.” He chuckled. “You want to shop around a bit? We’ve still got some time.”

“Oh absolutely. There’s a Lego store here.”

Steve grinned. “They have a whole store for those?”

The two of you finished eating, threw out your trash, and then walked down the hallway to the Lego Store. Steve browsed some of the boxes. There were a lot of cool things. Buildings he recognized, landmarks, things from movies he hadn’t gotten to watch yet. There were also flowers. Lots of flowers, and Van Gogh’s Starry Night. He could see himself building any number of them with you.

You were over by the minifigure bags, squishing them to feel which character was inside. Steve chuckled, but didn’t question your process. Instead, he wandered over to a rotating display of minifigure keychains. A few caught his eye, but more than anything, you did. That was, a keychain of you, in your suit, that eight-pointed star on your chest. Right next to it was him, shield and all. He chuckled and then grabbed one of each, heading towards the checkout.

By the time you caught up with him, he had already paid.

“What did you get?” you asked through your giggles.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled, voice soft, eyes softer.

“Alright. Keep your secrets.” You chuckled.

Steve took your hand, walking back towards the theater. You got one last refill for the last two movies, got your cards punched, and headed back inside to finish off the saga.

***

At the end of the night, all the people who had been there for all four movies got a t-shirt, a Mockingjay pin, and a mini poster. Along with the tin and cups they’d given you, you’d say it was definitely worth the ticket price. You and Steve walked out to the car together and sat in the seats for a while before either of you spoke.

“Thanks for coming today, Steve.”

“Oh, any time, (Y/N). We should do it again sometime.”

“I’ll let you know if I catch wind of a Star Wars marathon.”

He grinned. “Oh please do. I’d love to see those on the big screen.”

He pulled out of the parking spot and drove off the lot. By the time you got back, almost everyone was asleep. Almost. Bucky was on the couch, watching something, volume on low. He looked up when the two of you came in the door.

“Fun time?” He asked.

“Oh, very.” You laughed kicking off your boots and setting them in your slot on the shoe shelf.

Steve plucked your keys off of your hook and, very efficiently, added his top secret Lego purchase to yours, the keychain of himself.

“Oh my God.” You giggled, looking at it. “This is great.”

“We match.” He said, holding up his own keys, which already had the keychain of you on them.

Your heart just about melted. “We sure do. God, you’re giving my soulmate some awfully big shoes to fill, Steve.”

“Well,” he smiled, and suddenly, he was that little guy from Brooklyn again, at your height, in awe of the woman the universe had plopped directly onto his front porch. “I’m sure he’ll grow into them.”

Mr. Perfectly Fine

You had training early, almost all hands on deck. Tony was on a business trip, Thor was on Asgard. But otherwise, everyone was accounted for. Clint’s new recruit, Kate, seemed nice. She was twenty-three, fresh out of college, and really did have quite a shot. She might shape up to be a pretty good Hawkeye after all.

Scott and Hope were there as well. Hope was extremely skilled. You could tell she’d practiced for a while, knew her suit and the Pym Particles inside and out. And Scott was also there. He was nice, there was no question about that, but you could tell he still had a lot to learn about the crazy world he’d stepped into. Still, it was nice to have them around regardless.

Tony hadn’t officially inducted them to the team, and there had been no party announcing such a thing. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was waiting for someone. One more member, perhaps, before making it official.

You had been in…something of a mood since your little outing with Steve. It had been a blast, sure, but it had also been a reminder: Steve had a soulmate, in the past tense. There was a name on his wrist. And your bare wrist meant that it wasn’t you. You had a soulmate out there somewhere, human or super, whether you wanted them or not.

Steve was perfect for you. But you couldn’t have him.

And god, did it hurt.

You trained hard, hitting the punching bag that occupied what was usually Steve’s corner. He was there a lot, blowing off steam. Now you got it; it felt good to hit something. You spun, kicking the bag.

“You’re unbalanced.” Bucky piped up, walking over.

You looked up at him, watching his movements, but he didn’t mean any harm. Obviously he didn’t. He’d passed his mind-control test with flying colors. He was a free man now, and he was a lot lighter because of it.

“Am I?”

“You’ve gotta shift your weight a little, really plant that other leg.” He instructed, adjusting your body, hands gentle but firm. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you from across the room, but he didn’t come over. “Otherwise they’re gonna push you right over.”

“Well thanks. I appreciate it.” You said, giving the tip a try. “I haven’t done enough hand-to-hand.”

“We’ll get ya there. I’m surprised Steve hasn’t been working on it with you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Things have been weird since the Hunger Games.”

“I noticed.” Bucky chuckled. “I’ll talk to him. See what’s going on in that head of his.”

“It’s not his fault. I’ve been the weird one.”

“Oh. Need to talk about it?”

“No, I just…I need to work through some stuff.”

Working through stuff meant that after training, you went straight to your room, closed the door, and started listening to your angst playlist, spread like a starfish across your king-sized mattress. And that was how Nat found you almost an hour later.

“Knock-knock, I’m coming in.” She said, opening the door. “Hey. Why are you listening to Songs for Sad Bitches in here?”

“What? How’d you—?”

“Your playlist name is on the screen out here when you play stuff on the built-in speakers.”

“Embarrassing.”

“Happens to the best of us.” She shrugged, closing the door behind her and sitting on the bed. “So, why are we sad bitches today?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You can’t talk about it, or you can’t talk about it here?”

“The second of those options, yeah.”

She dangled your keys from her hand, the little tiny Captain America taunting you. “Thought so. Let’s get out of here. Kate hasn’t been to the mall yet and she needs to buy some more clothes.”

“Alright. I could go for some mall pretzels.”

So, for the second time in a week, you piled into a car and headed off towards the mall. This time, however, you were with your friends, Wanda, Nat, and Kate, not your unattainable work crush.

Wanda loved the mall. Seeing her that happy almost made your heartache go away. The four of you shopped around. You picked out a few new tops, some accessories, a cute bag, and it was a nice distraction until you passed the Lego Store. You got some pretzel bites and hunkered down in the food court with the others.

“Alright. Spill.” Nat urged.

Wanda offered a sad little smile and Kate looked up, waiting to see where this was heading. She was new to the team, which meant she was new to the drama, too.

“I don’t know, just…going out with Steve…”

“What, you don’t like him?” Nat asked, prodding.

“The opposite.”

“Then why are you all torn up about it?”

“Because I can’t have him.” You said, pushing a pretzel bite around in the cup of cheese. “He has a soulmate.”

“Had. In the forties.”

“Right, but…I turn twenty-five in what, like four months now? And then I get whoever and…I need to let him go before I get hurt, but I can’t.” You sighed. “Or before I hurt him, leading him on just to run off into the sunset with someone else…I just feel like shit about the whole situation.”

Natasha sat there with the perfect poker face, giving a sly little smile. “It’s gonna be fine. I promise. And if not, you’ve got us here to catch you.”

“What she said.” Kate agreed.

“It will be fine, (Y/N).” Wanda promised, patting your hand. “My birthday is first. Let me be the stressed one.” She let out an incredulous laugh. “I have a crush on an android.”

“Hey, if any robot has a soul, it’s gotta be Vision.” You said, eyes soft. “Obviously, he doesn’t have a mark, but, if your wrist has his name…”

“That would be enough for both of us.” Wanda agreed, nodding. “It’s weird. I know…I know he’s the one but I still have to wait. I wish if you figured it out early, the universe would just let you have it.”

Natasha looked to the rest of you, soaking in silence for a moment before taking off the cuff she wore around her wrist. “Alright, it’s been a secret long enough.”

“Woah, Nat…” You gave her a moment to back out, but she held up her wrist, letting the rest of you read the name on her wrist. Bucky. Her soulmate was Bucky. It…made a lot of sense, actually. The way he looked at her during training, the way she kept herself so guarded around him. “Does he know?”

“Unclear.” Natasha shrugged. “I, uh…Steve said he wasn’t sure. And Bucky’s memories are a little fuzzy. The Red Room tried to get rid of our marks. Said they made us liabilities. When I got out, they hadn’t found a way to do it yet. It showed up a few years after that.”

“Is that like…still around?” Kate asked. “The Red Room?”

“Unfortunately.”

The word sat on the table for a few long moments before you said, “What if we took it down?”

Something sparked in Natasha’s eyes and she met your gaze. “Elaborate.”

“I’m serious. The four of us,” you thought for a moment and then it clicked, “Hope.”

“Maria.” Natasha said, putting the pieces together herself. “I mean, that’s really all we’d need. Plus a location and a plan.”

“Oh my god, are we going on a mission?” Kate asked, lighting up at the prospect of her very first real mission.

Nat grinned. “Yeah, I think we are.”

I Can See You

Steve caught wind of Operation: Red Room before you’d so much as suited up. Of course he didn’t think it was a good idea. After your accident, he still saw you as fragile. You were fine. Your ribs were fine. They’d healed better than even Bruce had expected them to. Still, that look in his eyes said otherwise.

“I’m just not sure this is something you should be doing on your own.”

“We can’t bring you. We can’t bring Bucky. It’d be handing them two supersoldiers on a silver platter.”

“So you’re just gonna waltz in there instead?”

“Yep.” You replied, lighting a little forcefield around your fist and holding it up as evidence. “I can handle myself, remember?”

His eyes softened. “I know that.”

“Then why are you still fighting me on this? Do you seriously think Natasha would let anything happen to me? Do you think Wanda would?”

“What if they have something that disables your powers? Both of your powers.”

“If they did, they’d have used it already.”

He sighed, muscled arms crossed, pink lips pressed into a pout. “(Y/N)...”

“You’re not talking me out of this.” Not even with those pretty blues, you sneaky bastard. “Besides, it was my idea. I’m not leaving the girls hanging.”

His eyes widened. “It was your idea?”

“Well, it was a group effort, but I’m the one that put it into words, yeah.” You shrugged. “If you didn’t think I could handle being an Avenger, why did you recruit me?”

“I never said that.” His jaw clenched and he shook his head. “I just…I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then trust me to do this.” You told him, resting a hand on his chest. “And trust me to come back to you.”

He met your eyes, melting at your touch before relenting, “Okay. But be careful, alright? Promise me.”

“I promise. I always am. You guys should be here to hold down the fort anyway, in case they retaliate.”

He nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be here.”

You walked down to the locker rooms and suited up, making sure everything was tugged tight, belt equipped with both real guns and stun guns. Natasha had told the rest of you there was brainwashing afoot with the Widows that were still in the Red Room. If you could help it, the goal was to get them out without hurting them. That was where Wanda came in. Her specialty.

You all loaded up into the jet, Maria Hill joining you as your getaway pilot. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work with her yet, so you were excited to. You rehashed the plan on the way. The Red Room was housed in a floating base, which was why it was so untraceable; it was always moving.

You, Kate, and Wanda were on Widow duty. Wanda would dispel their brainwashing, and you and Kate would deal with the physical cells and deal with any guards standing in your way. Once the brainwashing was handled, Wanda would go with Nat to kill Dreykov himself, the man in charge who had escaped countless assassination attempts. This time, she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Hope was going to shrink down and destroy the place from the inside, and once everyone was out and safe, Maria would fly you all to safety.

Ideally, anyway.

Steve saw you off, standing in the driveway as you flew off.

“Natasha wasn’t kidding. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” Maria chuckled.

“You could say that.”

At the moment, the Red Room was hovering over a suburb in Maine, nearing the Canadian border. Any closer and it would become an international incident. It had to be now. Maria cloaked the jet as it approached, hiding it from onlookers, obviously, but also, hopefully, from the Red Room itself. Though, their sensors were very advanced so there was no way of knowing until you got closer. That put you on edge.

So, instead, you turned to Kate. “First mission today. You ready?”

“Oh hell yeah. I’ve been waiting for this.” Kate nodded. She slung her quiver over her shoulder. “What was yours?”

“The local county fair.” You chuckled. “Though, I guess if you count my first encounter with a bad guy, it was at the mall, guy with a flamethrower and a dream. He is in jail now.”

“That is typically what happens when you dream of arson.” Natasha said, grinning. “Thank you all. For this. For coming.”

“We’ve got you, Nat. They did some pretty awful shit to you. Time to make them pay for it.”

“Speaking of, ready up, ladies. We are two minutes out.”

Power crackled in your fingertips. You were ready to go. Well, as ready as you could be.

Maria pulled up to the docking bay and the five of you got out. Hope lowered her helmet visor, saluted, and then shrunk, flying off into the vents. The other four set off in a linear path, up the winding hallways towards where they kept the Widows.

The hall was bathed in red light, dim. It set you on edge. Natasha led the way, motioning the rest of you on. You noticed as you approached each camera, it flicked off, the heads of them tilting down.

Oh right, Hope. Awesome.

You approached a series of rooms, doors all identical. They slid open when you approached, and sure enough, two dozen women came charging at you all at once, dressed in identical athleisure. Wanda waved her hands, red mist cascading down the hall, their eyes filling. It took a moment, but they all stopped, looking around at each other for some idea of what was going on.

“Natasha?” One of the voices in the crowd said, a blonde girl with wide eyes. “You came?”

Natasha nodded, smiling. “Of course I did.”

“You’re the Avengers.” The girl said, looking at the rest of you. “You’re really here.”

“Some of us. Come on, we’ve got a ship waiting.” You told her.

The girl looked at you and then back at Natasha.

“Go with her.” Natasha instructed. “I’ll be back in like five minutes. Tops.”

“What’s your name?” Kate asked, starting to lead the others back to the ship.

“I’m Yelena. Natasha’s sister.”

As you led them back down the hall, armored guards rounded the corner. You made forcefields at their feet, tripping them up. Kate shot arrows down the barrels of their weapons, causing a few small explosions. The Widows fought with you, taking out anyone that approached. Soon enough, you got to the docking bay, which exploded as soon as you approached.

You put up a shield between the rest of you and the explosion, blocking the girls from the flying debris. Okay, that put a wrench in things a little bit.

“What are we gonna do?” Kate asked, looking to you, the reflection of the flames shimmering against her skin.

“I’ve got an idea.” You said, approaching the opening carefully, wind whipping all around. Maria was still piloting the jet, doing her best to get close to the massive hole.

You made a platform with your power, curving it up at the edges, like a giant spoon. Slowly, you slid it across the gap to the jet. Maria got the hint, turning it around and opening the ramp. You made another platform and two of the Widows hopped in without hesitation. Slowly, you started the process of feeding them all across, two by two until everyone was in the jet. Everyone except you.

“Hey.” Hope said, landing and returning to full size, out of breath. “What did I miss?”

“Not too much.”

“Want a lift?”

“Why not?” You shrugged. Hope took your hand, flying you across the gap and into the ship. That just left Wanda and Nat unaccounted for.

You watched anxiously, waiting, waiting, waiting. Nothing.

“Hope, how long before this thing blows?”

“A few minutes.”

“Fuck.” You shook your head. You pressed a finger to your earpiece. “Nat, Wanda, do you copy?”

Radio silence.

“(Y/N), there they are.” Kate pointed. She really did have eagle eyes.

“I’ll get them.” Hope offered until an enemy ship opened fire.

“I’ve got it.” You said, channeling something deeper. Instead of making a bubble, you formed a tunnel of shimmering blue energy from the platform they were standing on to the back of the jet. “Hold her steady, Maria!”

“As steady as I can.”

A few explosions started at the back of the base, setting off a chain reaction. The two of them ran through the tunnel, its energy shielding them from the fire, the debris, and the rain of bullets. Wanda sped them along, until they were safe and sound, in the jet again.

Maria closed up the door as more explosions went off. You lowered your hands, letting the energy dispel. She flew off to a safe distance. The rest of you watched in awe as the Red Room fell, crumbling to bits, to ashes and ruin.

Yelena hugged Natasha, thanking her. Natasha apologized for not coming sooner. And the rest of the Widows were able to rest, breathing free for the first time in years.

***

The first stop on the docket was a SHIELD base in New York to drop off the majority of the Widows. SHIELD had a plan in place to get them back into society, integrated, rehabilitated, whatever they needed.

The second stop, of course, was Taco Bell, for refreshments.

The third stop was home, where Steve was waiting at the dinner table, chin resting against his folded hands, Bucky sitting across from him. He whipped around at the sound of the door opening. You, Kate, Wanda, Natasha, Hope, and Yelena were talking and laughing, laden with bags of fast food.

His eyes fell on yours first and it was like time stopped.

“How did it go?”

“Good. I got you a Baja Blast.” You said, setting the large cup of the teal drink in front of him.

He stared at it for a long moment before looking back up at you. “You…”

“I’m alright, Steve. We all are. And, uh, we have a new teammate.”

He finally spotted Yelena in the mix. “Oh?”

“Natasha has a sister.” You shrugged, sitting down and unpacking your order. “Apparently.”

Speaking of whom, Natasha walked up to Bucky, looked him in the eye, and said, “Barnes. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, following her into another room.

“Wonder what that’s about.” Steve murmured, sticking a straw into the drink he kept staring at like it was a potion you’d plucked from a fantasy realm. You supposed teal was kind of an odd color for a drink…

You smirked. “I have some idea.”

“She told you?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “It makes a lot of sense. The way he looks at her…”

He nodded. “Like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You sighed and then shook out of it, motioning to the drink. “Alright, let me know what you think.”

He took a first sip, holding it in his mouth for a second before swallowing. The smile on his face grew. “It’s sweet.”

“Too sweet?”

“A little.” He chuckled, going in for another sip. “No, maybe…maybe I do like it.”

“Uh-huh. Think about it.” You laughed.

Yelena sat down next to you. “Is this seat taken? I’m starving.”

“Have at it.”

“Alright, well, you girls have fun. I’m headed to bed.” He held up his cup. “Thanks for the drink. Glad you’re home safe.”

“Night, Steve.”

Yelena looked at you, wonder in her eyes. As soon as he was out of earshot, she said, “Oooh, tell me everything.”

You chuckled. “Where do I even start?”

Champagne Problems

Two weeks later, you got dressed for Wanda’s twenty-fifth birthday outing. It would be just the girls, headed to a club nearby. Wanda would turn twenty-five just after midnight and she didn’t want to be in the same building with Vision if she was going to get her heart broken. It wasn’t a bad plan, all things considered.

You were wearing a black dress, knee-length, form-fitting, paired with a dark red lip, and of course, the star necklace Steve had gotten for you all those months ago. You let your fingers linger on it in your reflection before throwing on your heels and walking out to the living room to wait for the others.

Steve was on the couch, watching the Muppets Movie.

“See? I wasn’t lying about Gonzo.”

“You weren’t.” He laughed. He opened his mouth to make a quip, but it died on his tongue when he got a good look at you, eyes softening. “You got a date tonight? You’re all dolled up.”

“Huh? No.” You laughed. “It’s girls’ night.”

“Didn’t you just have girls’ night? I believe it involved several explosives.”

“Right, well, Wanda turns twenty-five just after midnight, so we’re going out again. This time hopefully with less explosions.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Well, ya look great.”

You blushed. “Thanks.”

“You hear about Nat and Buck?”

“It’s official.” You grinned. “I’m happy for them.”

“Me too. They’ve both been through so much. They deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Steve.”

He tilted his head, giving you that sad smile. “I am. Promise.”

The other girls came into the living room before you had the chance to respond. Nat was hand-in-hand with Bucky, who kissed her on the cheek before releasing her and joining Steve on the couch, grinning like he’d won the lottery. In a way, he had.

“Let’s get a move on, birthday girl.” Natasha said, slinging an arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “The night is young.”

She looked back longingly where Vision was hovering in the corner of the room. “Be back soon.”

“Text me when you find out.” He said.

“I will.” She promised, eyes brimming with tears.

You took her hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. She squeezed it back, meeting your eyes and offering a smile.

The five of you piled into the car. Hope wasn’t coming because she was in San Francisco for the weekend, but Yelena was. She seemed determined to experience all the life she’d missed out on thus far. You couldn’t blame her in the slightest.

The club was lively, music pulsing loudly. There were lots of birthdays being celebrated, it turned out, announced by party hats, birthday crowns and sashes, and the periodic cheers of groups of people, yelling out in excitement when their friends learned who their lives were promised to. It was kind of magical.

You ordered a drink, downing it quickly and surrendering to the fuzzy feeling at the edges of your mind. You were pretty sure the last time you’d been drunk was your induction to the team. You remembered that night with Steve, how he looked at you, how it felt. And then you ordered a second drink, dancing to the music with the girls, trying to forget your worries, even if only for the night.

A guy approached you, a look in his eye. He eyed up your bare wrist. “No soulmate?”

“Not yet. A few months too early for that.”

“Then would you mind if I swept you off your feet for the night?”

“Sorry, I…I’m here for my friend. It’s her twenty-fifth.”

He scoffed, looking you up and down before stalking off towards his next victim. “Alright. Your loss.”

“Asshole.” Yelena rolled her eyes, taking your hands and spinning you around on the dance floor. You let her, dancing along. “I do not blame you, (Y/N). If I were you, I wouldn’t settle either. Not for that.”

You laughed. “Yeah, not my thing.”

“You’ve never…?”

“Well, a little. In high school, we used to have parties where we ‘practiced’ for our soulmates. It never got any further than a little spin the bottle, though.” You confessed.

“Ah, see, I’ve had practice. But it never meant anything. Red Room, bleh.” Yelena shrugged. “I am ready for something real.”

“How long you got left?”

“Another year.”

“I’ve got three and a half months.”

“So I’ve heard. I bet you are excited, being so close to it.”

“Excited, nervous.” You laughed, shrugging. “I kinda just want to rip the Band-Aid off, get it over with.”

“I’m sure.” She motioned Kate over and she joined the two of you, dancing to the beat. “Kate Bishop, how long do you have left?”

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Ah, well, then you have lots of time to party.” Yelena grinned, spinning her around. “We should really do this more often.”

You chuckled. Yelena had only been part of your little family for a few weeks, but already you could tell she was going to be a handful in the best way.

Eventually, you wandered back over to Wanda, who was standing in the corner of the room, nursing a single glass of Vodka Cran.

“Hey, birthday girl. You doing okay?” You asked.

She nodded, irises ringed with red, as they often were when she was stressed. She blinked a few times, forcing them back to hazel. “Doing great.”

“Wanda, whoever they are, they’re so lucky to have someone like you.” You took her hand. “Now let’s go dance and forget about it for the next hour.”

She smiled. “Lead the way.”

***

In what seemed like no time at all, midnight came. Natasha ordered a bottle of champagne and each of you got a glass. Wanda sat on a barstool, staring at her wrist. From right next to her, you had a pretty good view, watching with a racing heart as a string of letters appeared, darkening into existence.

The Vision.

She burst into tears, hitting the call button on her phone. He picked up on the first ring.

“It’s you, Vis! I knew it was you!”

The rest of you gathered your things, eager to reunite them as soon as you could. Your thoughts were racing, though. You’d never really thought of it before, but…your soulmate could be someone you already knew. Someone you were already in love with.

Someone who was already in love with you.

Maybe there was some hope after all…

The Origin

Only weeks after your night in the club, you found yourself in yet another bar. This time, it wasn’t for fun, though. You, Sam, Nat, Bucky, and Steve were undercover in a quaint little tavern in Alaska. A quaint little tavern that happened to be a front for Hydra, as it were. But that didn’t mean that everyone there was Hydra, just definitely the bar tender and the security guards that kept eyeing you up. Probably a handful of the patrons, too.

In addition to that, so were the flannel-clad guys at the bar.

“Hey, little lady.” One wandered up to you, bumping your elbows. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m all set with this one, thanks.” You said, taking a long sip from your drink.

“Aww, come on, just one more?” The guy on your other side egged on. “Pretty girl like you deserves to have a little fun.”

The guys around them started getting riled up, trying to convince you to have another drink. Never had you been so glad to hear Steve’s voice.

“Sorry fellas, she’s taken. Come on, sweetheart.” You felt his hand on your shoulder and let him pull you away from the fray, back to his little corner. He had been growing out a bit of a beard for this. God, did it suit him. He rested his hands on your waist, face approaching your own, nose nestled beside your cheek. “You see anything?”

“Bartender has a gun under the counter. Intense code-protected lock on the door in the backroom.” You told him, masking your words with a smile, nuzzling your nose against his.

“I’ll get to work on the door.” Bucky said over the coms. “Whatever you’re doing is working. Those guys have lost all interest.”

“Perfect.” You chuckled. “Thanks for defending my honor.”

Steve smiled and it was breathtaking, the way his eyes sparkled in the warm light. “Anytime.”

You really couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol; there hadn’t even been any. It was a virgin drink. Your arm wound around his neck, pulling him in so you could kiss his cheek. His arms wrapped tight around you and he buried his face in your neck to hide his rosy cheeks, laughing.

Once again, that line between your cover and your feelings began to blur.

“Alright, I’m in.” Bucky said. “Feel free to join us whenever.”

“Coming.” Steve murmured, a hand moving the hair out of your eyes. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, sending your heart into a frenzy before taking your hand and leading you to the backroom, where Bucky and the others were waiting.

“You were born for undercover work, (Y/N).” Natasha said, giving you a smirk and a friendly nudge.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” You laughed. “It’s kind of fun, though.”

The five of you walked down the tunnel. When you finally reached the main room, it was kind of dark. You lit your fist with blue energy, using it to find a lightswitch. There were several computers that flashed to life, a wall of weapons, and also, a wall of screens. There was a little electrified cell, but it was empty. No captives, as far as you could see.

You started looking around while Natasha backed up files to a hard drive. Bucky watched the entrances. Sam looked over the weapons, taking notes of the ones that were out of the ordinary. Steve stared at the screens, mesmerized by…something.

“Um, (Y/N)?” He asked, motioning you over.

You looked up at the images. They were all of you. Pictures of you in the field, diagrams of your anatomy, hospital records, your birth certificate. There were illustrations of you, and a few fields marked as unfulfilled: blood sample, soulmate information, DNA.

Beneath it was written Planet of Origin: Illustria

“What the actual fuck.” You said, voice flat, staring at the word. You’d never heard it before. Not even with the recent discoveries about space and the wider universe. Thor, your only connection to space, had never mentioned it. Yet, for some reason, Hydra had reason to believe you were connected to it.

“Company.” Bucky announced, readying his gun as a group of Hydra agents stormed down the tunnel.

A section of the wall slid open and a scientist-looking man stepped into the space. Steve threw his shield, bouncing it off of three surfaces before it came back to him. The man made a run for it, but you lit your fists and ran after him. Steve followed after.

Once you were both through, the wall slid shut. On the other side, you could still hear the sounds of the fight. They needed you. But you needed answers. It was an impossible choice, made easier when he started talking.

“Ah, the Girl from Space and the Man Out of Time. How nice to have you both here in one place.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You said, fists clenched, eyes glazed over with raw power, glowing like Wanda’s did.

He laughed. “You didn’t know? Your commerades didn’t tell you? Surely they must have seen the suppressor in your neck when they were running all those tests.”

Your world came crashing down. “The what?”

“Your parents paid us to put it there. Paid SHIELD, at least, but, we’ve been one in the same for a long time. Didn’t know how to handle their little alien girl, especially at her full power, on a planet that wasn’t their own. They should have known you’d outgrow it eventually.” He tsked. “Of course, I could always take it out for you.”

“You touch her, you die.” Steve said, voice as smooth as steel. It sent a chill down your spine. “I’m warning you.”

It made sense. It was like a switch had been flipped when you were in college, your powers coming from seemingly nowhere. They’d been suppressed all your life, but finally, the suppressor stopped working. You hadn’t even known it was there. Maybe that was why you’d been stopped at so many airports.

“Not to worry Captain, I was on my way out of here anyway.” He raised his hands and started walking towards an exit tunnel.

You raised yours, making a cuff of energy around his wrist, holding him in place.

“No, you get to answer to SHIELD.” You told him. “And then you get to answer to me.”

Steve used his shield to knock the guy out with one quick, precise throw. The door behind the two of you slid open, Natasha pushing it open. There were downed Hydra agents all over the floor behind her.

“Having a party without us?”

“Something like that.” You mumbled, heart still racing.

“I got the files, (Y/N).” She said, playful demeanor falling immediately. “We’ll figure it out.”

Steve lugged the scientist over his shoulders, handing him off to the SHIELD agents who had come to help, one of whom happened to be one of the guys who was hitting on you at the bar. Go figure. Bucky and Sam joined the three of you. Sam put a hand on your shoulder and offered a supportive smile.

You still felt numb.

***

You got back to the safehouse and the snow outside doubled, coming down in droves, thick snowflakes and heavy winds. It was safe to say you would not be making it back to the Compound tonight.

You changed out of your bulletproof gear and into a tank top and sweats, running a hand through your hair. You met your eyes in the reflection, noticing how they flickered blue. In the other room, you could hear the video call finally go through with Tony and Bruce, who were back home.

“Oh don’t give me that look, Rogers.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

“What, like you’ve never kept a secret ever in your life, give me a break!”

“About her life, Tony!”

“I’ll get her.” You heard Natasha tell him, and then heard her footsteps approaching the bathroom door. She knocked. “Hey, they’re on. I made you some cocoa.”

You opened the door, letting out a sigh and nodding. “Thanks, Nat.”

She smiled, patting your shoulder and leading you out to the couch. Tony and Bruce were sitting in the living room on the screen. Steve had been pacing, obviously, given his stance and the fact that he was still standing.

You sat down, making eye contact with each of them, lips pressed into a flat line. Your heart raced, chest aching, stomach on fire from the adrenaline of it all. “So?”

Tony sighed. “You’re an alien.”

“Half.” Bruce amended. “On your mother’s side. She’s from a planet called Illustria.”

“Uh-huh, yeah. I got that part. How long have you known?”

Bruce looked at Tony, hoping he’d deliver that part of the news. He did. “I’ve known since you were recruited. Fury did a background check. You were already on the files.”

“What about the suppressor?”

“We didn’t know what it was. We didn’t know what taking it out would do to you.” Bruce admitted. “We thought you knew it was there.”

“I want it out.” You said with certainty. “I want it out as soon as we get home.”

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I want to know who I am. That starts with knowing what I’m actually capable of.” You sighed. “And call Thor. I have questions I need answered. His alien friends might know.”

“Anything else?” Tony asked.

“Who else knew.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Just me and Fury,” he said, but you couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“And Hydra.” You snapped. “What, are you afraid of me? Had to keep a lid on my powers because you’re so fucking obsessed with control?”

Tony scoffed. Clearly, you’d struck a nerve. “That’s not it.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how you would take it.”

“Okay well, I think I would have been okay hearing it from a friend, in a place I felt safe. I had to hear about it from Hydra. They had a fucking cell with my name on it.” You said, trembling as you remembered it, tucked away in the corner there. That was the only explanation for it, really. And then something else clicked, too. “That…that day when Steve got tranq’ed. They weren’t trying to hit him, they were trying to hit me. He jumped in the way. They’ve…been trying to take me this entire time.”

“Oh my god, Tony…” Natasha said, voice quiet.

“Get those files to me, Nat. I’ll take a look. See if they have anything on the suppressor so I can take it out when you get back.” Bruce said, eyes soft. “And I’m sorry, for the record.”

“It’s not you I’m mad at.”

“Kid, please don’t—”

You cut Tony off with a click of the remote, hanging up the call. You let out a shaking sigh, setting the remote down. Your fingers were trembling. You took a few breaths, lungs heaving. You wanted to scream. You needed to let it out.

Everyone else on the team knew why they were there. Every other person in your life knew what made them special. Wanda’s power came from the Mind Stone, Steve’s came from the Serum, Tony’s came from his massive fucking ego. They all got the privilege of their origin story.

All of them except for you.

You needed to call your parents, if you even could. They’d told you they were moving to Florida. Now you wondered if they’d moved off the planet.

“You gonna be okay?” Sam asked, eyes trailing you as you paced through the room towards the door.

“Nope.” You walked out to the other den, burying your face in your arms, sobbing for a few minutes until you got it all out, or most of it anyway. Eight months. Eight fucking months he’d known you and didn’t think to tell you.

The chip in your shoulder burned.

You began to seriously wonder if anyone else had known. Bruce had run all those tests, surely he had seen something. He’d told you there were abnormalities, but he’d assumed they were from your powers, not the cause of them.

Steve crossed your mind briefly, but you shot that down pretty quick. He, of all people, would never keep a secret like that from you. You knew him well enough to know that.

Aside from that, the only real suspect you had was Vision. He had been JARVIS once, surely he still had some of that database in his mind. You’d give him the benefit of the doubt. For now.

“Hey.” Even before you looked up, you could tell Steve would be leaning in the doorway, that lovelorn look on his face. You were right, obviously.

Tears welled in your eyes. “Steve.”

He crossed the room, collecting you in his arms, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back. You surrendered to him, crying into the fabric of his crewneck, face tucked into the crook of his neck. One of his hands cradled your head, smoothing over your hair comfortingly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He rumbled, voice deep and soothing. “I would have told you.”

“I know you would.” You sniffled, gripping him like a lifeline, your anchor in the storm. You pulled away to meet his eyes. “I feel so stupid for crying about it.”

He shook his head. “It’s not stupid. I would, too.”

“Like it’s fine. Aliens are cool. T-Thor is cool.” You sniffled again, more tears running down your cheeks. “I’m fine with being one, I just…”

“You’re still (Y/N).” He asserted, a gentle thumb wiping your tears away. “You’ve always been able to do these amazing, beautiful things. Now we know why. And maybe there’ll be even more things you can do with that thing out of your neck.”

“Yeah…” You nodded. You took a deep breath. “I’m really glad you’re here, Steve. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.”

He pulled you back into his arms to hide the look on his face. “I’ve got you. Always. We’ll figure it out.”

***

Hours later, you were curled up on the couch, asleep. Despite the fireplace raging with fresh-chopped wood, you were still shivering, pulling the blankets around yourself as tight as you could.

Steve watched you from the dining table, forlorn. Natasha nudged him, motioning towards you. He shook his head. He couldn’t. Right? What, take advantage of you in your vulnerable state?

Bucky seemed to agree with Nat, grinning into his mug of coffee. Of course they agreed. They were soulmates, after all. Just like you and Steve.

The mark on his wrist seemed to thrum when he thought about it.

Relenting, Steve got up off of his seat, walked towards the fireplace and adjusted the logs, adding another small one for good measure. He looked back at the others, who were silently, but aggressively, encouraging him to go over to you. Sighing, he did.

He knelt down in front of you, clearing his throat, which caused you to jolt awake.

“Is everything okay? Are we under attack?”

Steve chuckled. “No, uh, we’re all good. Are you cold? You’re shivering.”

“Kind of, yeah.” You admitted. “I’ll be okay, though, I promise. I’ve always been kind of cold. Must be an alien thing…”

“Do you…want some company?” He asked, unsure of how to word it. “I…run warm.”

“Do you mind?” You asked, sitting up a little and raising the blankets you were under.

His heart raced. “Here, um…” He wiggled in underneath you, letting you lead as the two of you settled.

“God, you do run warm.” You hummed, all but collapsing against him, a hand flat against his chest while you adjusted.

“I didn’t always.” He said, voice sincere. “Buck and I used to have to share a bed in the winter. It was brutal.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Yeah, he snores.” Steve joked, earning a laugh.

“Oh I know. I can hear him three doors down back home.”

“And I can hear you from the other room!” Bucky called, sending you and Steve into a fit of giggles, like kids at a sleepover. “It’s a small cabin!”

You heard him and Sam devolve into a bickering match about the truth of whether or not Bucky actually snored that loud.

You looked up at Steve, asking “is it okay if I put my arm here?” while carefully draping an arm across him.

“Yeah, of course. Get comfortable.” He nodded, leaning against the pillows and pulling the blanket up around your shoulders.

You rested your head on his firm chest, listening to the way his heart was racing. Cute.

“We could, uh, put on some music if you want.” Steve suggested. “I’ve still got that playlist on my phone.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” You asked, voice soft, curious.

“Timeless.”

“I thought it would be.” You smiled, meeting his eyes, which sparkled in the light of the fire. “You’re so timeless, Steve Rogers.”

He grinned. “You think so? You don’t think I’m a fossil like everyone else?” he said, quoting Natasha and Tony and many others who equated him to some dinosaur because of his accident.

“Not even close.” You shook your head and sighed. “This might be the wrong thing to say, but…I’m really glad you’re here. Your life could have looked a lot different, but I’m really glad you ended up in mine.”

It took every ounce of his being to hold in his tears when you said it. If he could have confessed then and there, he would have. He would have kissed you square on the lips, told you he loved you, that he always had, that you weren’t some accident, you were his destiny. Always had been.

Instead, he had to settle for, “I’m getting used to it, but I am, too. I’m really glad I found you that day, (Y/N).”

“Me too.” You smiled, readjusting your cheek against his chest, letting out a long breath. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night.”

His warmth lulled you to sleep after a long, emotional day. Never had you felt so safe and protected. It was easy to feel that way in the arms of a supersoldier, you supposed, thoughts meandering until there weren’t any left. You were asleep in minutes, breaths slow and long and even.

Once he was absolutely sure you were out, Steve pressed the gentlest kiss to your forehead, grateful beyond words to have you in his arms again, grateful you were safe, grateful you were his.

Even if you didn’t know it yet.

***

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the sliver of a gap in the curtains, right into your eyes. You blinked a few times, trying to figure out why the mattress was moving. And then you remembered. Steve.

The supersoldier was still asleep, breaths long and slow, those thick, gorgeous eyelashes resting against his sharp cheekbones, lips impossibly pink. His muscled arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other settled on the couch.

Your eyes wandered to the band on his wrist. It was out of place slightly, the edge almost crooked enough to read the letters etched onto his skin. Almost.

There was a part of you that was tempted to look. To nudge it aside the tiniest bit, say it was an accident, and finally know who it was that had been holding his heart in their hands for the last seventy or so years.

But you couldn’t do that to him. He trusted you enough to hold you while he slept, while he was the most vulnerable. You respected him too much to do that. So instead, you adjusted slightly, closing your eyes again.

“(Y/N).” Natasha said from the doorway of the kitchen.

“Hmm?” You replied, eyes opening again.

She eyed up the two of you, grinning. “Cute.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got those files sent to Bruce. He doesn’t think it’ll be a problem getting that thing out of you. Won’t even have to put you under.”

“Cool.” You nodded. “Is it…like right between my neck and my shoulder? On the right side?”

“That’s where it is on the diagrams, yeah.”

“Okay. Thought so. I get pain there sometimes.”

“During training?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think it was anything serious. Thought it was like a pulled muscle or a pinched nerve or something.”

“You never said anything.” Steve murmured, blinking awake. “You were in pain that whole time?”

“No. It comes and goes. Mostly when I try out new stuff.” You said, still planted on his chest, looking up at him.

He smiled. “Morning.”

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Really well, actually. How did you sleep?”

“Like a fucking rock.” You grinned. “You weren’t kidding about running warm. Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime.”

“Let’s get a move on, team.” Sam said, walking out from the bedrooms down the hall, Bucky not far behind him, looking tired.

You reluctantly left the warmth of your shared cocoon, sitting up and stretching, brushing your fingers through your tangled hair. “Alright, let’s go get this thing out of me.”

Show Yourself

“Alright, so, this might hurt a bit. Are you ready?” Bruce warned. You were laid out on a table on your stomach, a curled pillow beneath your head. It was a bit like a massage, except Bruce had made an incision at the base of your neck where your suppressor was implanted. He’d given you some numbing gel and pain meds, though, so you didn’t feel much.

On the other side of the observation window, Steve was standing with Natasha, his arms crossed, eyes focused. Tony wasn’t allowed even in there, which pissed him off. He’d tried to get on your good side when you’d gotten home and you blew him off completely, which, Steve had to admit, was amusing.

And Tony definitely deserved it.

“I’m good. Go for it.”

Carefully, Bruce used his tools to wiggle it free from your flesh, setting off a chain reaction in your body. The wave of relief you felt was almost enough to put you to sleep, a refreshing, cool sensation rushing from your head to your toes. Power crackled between your fingers, and you could feel your eyes glowing for a moment, despite the fact that you couldn’t see your reflection.

Bruce moved to stitch you up, but your body did the work for him, mending back together on its own before his very eyes. He adjusted his glasses, sure he was seeing things. But no, the wound was healed, just leaving a little dried blood on your skin, which he wiped off with a wet piece of gauze.

“Woahhh.” You murmured, coming out of the trance. You blinked a few times and it felt like waking up from a college nap, the kind you don’t set an alarm for and then come out of in a stupor.

“You feel okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” You nodded. “Are you done? Did you stitch it up?”

“I…didn’t have to.” He murmured, still staring at the spot. He handed you the shirt you’d brought in and you tugged it over your head, staring at your arms, your hands. You didn’t look any different, but it was like every atom in your body was electrified.

It felt right.

Bruce opened the door and Steve and Natasha walked in, watching your every move.

“Wow.” Natasha said, grinning. “You look…”

“The same, but…more you.” Steve met your eyes, offering you his hand.

You took it, letting him help you stand. Even his touch felt different now. Better. You settled, adjusting. It felt different, like even the gravity itself had changed. It would take some getting used to.

“I need to hit the training room.” You said with an excited grin. “You two are welcome to join me.”

“Can I watch? I want to take notes.” Bruce said. “From the observation booth, of course.”

“Oh yeah, by all means.” You nodded, leading the others down the hallway. A few others tagged along, Yelena, Kate, Wanda, who were all curious to see what you were capable of now, and just how much Tony’s lies had been holding you back. Sam and Bucky were already there and smiled when they saw you coming, Steve and the others in tow.

They cleared out some room, letting you have the space you needed. You stretched and then got to work.

First, you made a few forcefields. They still had that shimmer, like sunlight in a swimming pool, but they were twice as thick as they had been before. Steve couldn’t break them with his super-strength anymore.

You had more control over your waypoints and your portals, which, the more you used them, were becoming two different things. The waypoints, your stars, were a quick zip from point A to point B. Your portals, however, were more like a window that you could open and close, and took on more of a circular shape.

You were stronger, too. Nowhere near as strong as Bucky or Steve, but twice as strong as you’d been before, faster.

And then came the other thing. If you focused hard enough, and focused on the floaty, tingly feeling in your chest, your body started to glow around the edges, and at long last, your feet rose from the floor.

“Oh my god…” You murmured, lifting yourself from the tile ground. At first, it was hard to control, but you quickly figured out how to get from point to point, and how to hover in the middle.

Steve stared up at you as you hovered, fists lit with power, hair floating in the breeze you’d created. It was like watching the birth of a star, powerful and beautiful and otherworldly.

For the first time since 1943, he knew in his soul that he had to paint you, exactly like this. He memorized the moment in his mind, every detail from the streak of sunlight on your chest to the misplaced strand of hair on your forehead, the exact hue of your glowing irises.

“A picture might last longer.” Natasha teased under her breath, watching as you touched down.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.” Steve replied, already picking out a color palette in his head.

“Holy shit…” You breathed, the glow dissipating as you returned to normal. “What a rush.”

“Welcome to the fly club, kid.” Sam said, patting you on the back.

“Thanks.” You grinned. “You’ll have to give me some pointers sometime.”

“Oh, anytime.” Sam walked over to Steve with you. “You see her up there? She’s like Superman.”

“I saw.” Steve agreed, arms crossed. “I think this calls for celebration, huh?”

“What did you have in mind, Cap?” You asked.

“Baja Blast?” He suggested, earning a laugh and a friendly shove.

“So you did like it?”

“It’s growin’ on me.” Steve admitted, that sly smile spreading. “Come on, my treat.”

“Oh I’m in.” You agreed. “Let me just take these monitors off.”

You turned in Bruce’s software, all of the vital-measuring instruments, cuffs and little sensors hooked to your arms and legs and chest.

“So, give it to me straight, doc. Am I stable?”

“Yeah, everything looks great. Vitals are great, heartrate is fine, if not a little elevated, but I’d assume that’s just from the adrenaline.” Bruce noted, looking at the numbers and charts on the screen in front of him. “If you feel weird, let me know and I can check things over, do some scans, but otherwise, it seems…you’re doing better than you were before, actually.”

“Alright, good to know.” You said, trying not to let his words hurt you.

It was good news, it really was, but you could have felt this way for eight months, not two hours. You were thinking faster, processing things at better speeds. Hell, it even felt like you were breathing easier. Whatever that thing was that had been inside you, it had been sapping your health for your entire life. And now, you finally knew what it was like to be at a hundred percent instead of eighty.

Fuck Tony.

***

Steve drove the two of you through the nearest Taco Bell drive-thru to get snacks for yourselves and the rest of the team.

You ordered your regular, your Baja Blast, and everything the others had requested, running it on one of the team cards Tony had given you all. On the drive back, Steve had a question you didn’t really expect.

“Where do people shop for art supplies these days?”

“Jo Ann’s or Michael’s. They have a little bit of everything. Fabric, yarn, paint, beads, basically everything you could need. Why, you got a DIY project planned?”

“Something like that, yeah.” He grinned. “I don’t do much shopping, so I didn’t know where to start.”

“We should go sometime. I was running low on yarn.” You said, taking a sip of your Baja Blast.

“Make anything cool lately?”

“I’m working on a sunflower cardigan for Wanda.”

“Oh she’ll love that.”

“Yeah, she’s the one who sent me the pattern.” You chuckled. “It’s gonna look really cute on her.”

The two of you got back a few minutes later, a drove of hungry superheroes descending upon the paper bags you were carrying almost instantly. It was a welcome sight, a full table of laughing people. Your family. You felt a little different now, but nothing had changed. Not really. They still liked you, still smiled at you, joked with you, laughed with you.

So then why had Tony felt the need to hide it for so long?

***

Days later, Steve walked down the paint aisle of the craft store, picking out some brushes, some canvas, paints. He found the perfect one for your eyes, another hue for your forcefields. The amount of time he spent looking at you made it easy.

He smiled to himself. The little guy from Brooklyn would be proud of him, getting back into art beyond the sketches he did from time to time. It reminded him, though, that he needed to swing back to that antique shop and finally pick up the painting that had been waiting for him for so long.

Surely, he could keep it hidden until your big day.

Happiest Place on Earth

Being an Avenger often brought along unexpected adventures and opportunities. Today, that adventure was a theme park. Apparently, Disneyland was putting in a whole section in homage to the Avengers and Tony wanted you all to be there.

And though the two of you weren’t on the best terms at the moment, who were you to fight a free vacation?

You and Wanda helped pick out each others’ outfits for your day off following the grand opening. But today, you were wandering the park in uniform, side by side with Captain America himself, as you walked side by side down the street in the parade.

They’d tried to teach you all to do a little dance as you walked. The only one even attempting it was Scott, who was absolutely thrilled to be there. Supposedly, his daughter Cassie would be there to see him, too. You hadn’t met her yet, but Scott loved her to the moon and back. With him as a dad, she’d have to turn out pretty cool.

“Waypoint,” Steve said, motioning you over to see a little girl dressed not as a princess, but as you, your star shining proudly on her chest.

“Hey there, superstar.” You smiled, giving her a high-five. “You look great!”

“I want to be a hero just like you someday!” She said, her voice impossibly small. Impossibly innocent. It was a cute moment, but you couldn’t help but hope she’d never have to be. That someday, you and the rest of the team would get the world to a place where superheroes weren’t needed, where there was just peace. Where people with powers could simply be like everyone else.

“You already are, hon.” You told her, posing for a picture as her mom held up her phone.

You continued along the parade route and saw a couple. The guy was wearing a Captain America hoodie, the girl was wearing a Waypoint shirt. You wondered if Steve noticed, but didn’t have to ask when you saw his eyes lingering there, his mask all but hiding the faint blush on his cheeks.

A few teenage girls stopped you and you signed their autograph books, throwing something together. Despite your time on the team, there had never really been a time you’d been stopped for them. It was an odd feeling, being famous for something like this.

Steve signed with confidence, though. Sometimes you forgot that before he actually got to go out in the field and make a difference, he’d done a stint as a celebrity, touring the country to sell war bonds.

Someday, you’d bribe him enough to show you the videos, if he hadn’t already burnt all of them first.

“Are you excited for your birthday?” One asked. “I heard your twenty-fifth is coming up.”

“Oh! Yeah! I mean, I guess I’m more anxious than anything. It’s the big one.”

“You’re going to have every twenty-four year old in the country on the edge of their seat waiting to find out if they’re the one.” Another joked.

You laughed along. “Yeah, I guess it’s coming whether I want it to or not.”

You were near the end of the route, so it wasn’t long after that you were off the hook to walk around a bit, get something to eat.

Steve turned to you, trying to sound casual when he asked, “You don’t want your birthday to come?”

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged. “I’m not entirely set on the idea of pledging myself to some stranger for the rest of my life.”

“It’s not always a stranger.” Steve said. “Maybe you already know them.”

“That’s true. That would be…I mean, it would be better, sure, but…I’m pretty sure the only person I want it to be already has someone else.” You couldn’t meet his eyes when you said it, afraid of the answer, one way or the other, whether he finally said it outright, or if those pretty blue eyes said it for him.

You couldn’t handle the heartbreak.

“Wait—”

“(Y/N), we have time to hop on Pirates of the Caribbean.” Wanda said, swooping in to save you. She was really good at that. She took your hand and the two of you ran off in the direction of the ride.

Natasha walked up behind Steve, hand in hand with Bucky, who was nibbling on a churro. Obviously, they had heard the exchange.

“Fuck.” Steve muttered, shaking his head. “Well, great.”

“What’s going on, soldier?” Natasha asked.

“She’s gonna be so pissed when she finds out it’s me.” Steve said, voice small, as he watched you walk away. He waited for you to glance back at him. You didn’t.

“What are you talking about? Steve, she’s liked you for months. She listened to Songs for Sad Bitches when she thought she couldn’t have you.” Natasha reasoned. “Feelings like that don’t just go away.”

Bucky chimed, “Are we forgetting the night at the cabin?”

“That was three months ago.” Steve said, staring at his shoes. “I…I’ve been keeping it from her this entire time, hiding it from her, letting her feel like shit and stress herself out over it. I shouldn’t have gotten so close in the first place, but…I just can’t keep myself away from her. She looks at me with those eyes and I just…crumble.”

“I hear ya, pal.” Bucky said, patting his arm. “But you remember the look in her eyes at the bar that night? You remember the things she said to you? That (Y/N) is still a month away. She still has feelings for you. She still loves you, and she’s…she’s even excited to see the little guy.”

“She loved the little guy.” Steve agreed, smiling softly, remembering the look on your face when he’d found you, laying on his porch, the tenderness with which you’d whispered his name. In a world that constantly looked down on him, figuratively and literally, you were the first person aside from Bucky that made him feel loved, like he had something waiting for him.

Steve let out a long breath, nodding. Bucky was right. Back in the forties, he’d been the level-headed voice of reason, getting Steve out of the trouble his big mouth got him into. Even in the twenty-first century, he was still doing his damage control. In a way, he had missed it.

“Alright, now I know I missed some chapters.” Sam was on Steve’s other side, holding an ice cream sandwich, eyes wide. “When exactly were you going to tell me your soulmate is on the team?”

Steve chuckled. “Surprise?”

“Welcome to the inner circle, Sam. We’ve been waiting for you.” Natasha joked, wearing a grin.

“I mean, it explains a hell of a lot. Here I was thinking she was like…the grandkid of one of your old war buddies or something.”

“That’s what I thought!” Natasha agreed. She and Bucky finally filled Sam in on everything he’d missed over the past several months.

Steve’s eyes wandered back to that couple, dressed as him and you. They were holding hands, walking down the pathway, laughing, talking. They stopped for a selfie together in front of the Avengers Campus sign, which inevitably devolved into a kiss.

And in his head, he replaced them with him and you, carefree and in love in the happiest place on earth.

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Maybe, if you lied very still, you could convince the universe no time was passing at all. You were staring at the ceiling, flat on your back, the weight of the world resting flat against your entire body. No, against your soul, weighing you down.

Tomorrow was your birthday and you were not ready. Not in the slightest.

You let out a loud groan, forcing yourself to get up, to get dressed. You chucked your pajamas in your hamper, throwing on some joggers and a t-shirt, the old Star Wars tee you’d had since high school. It was a simple one, black with stars scattered across the fabric, the yellow logo emblazoned across the front.

There was a knock on your door.

“It’s open.” You called, not turning around to see who it was. You put on your star necklace, the one Steve had given you almost an entire year before. You tucked it under the fabric of the shirt.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” Steve asked, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes searching.

“Not well.” You sighed, turning to look at him.

“I didn’t either when mine was coming. I swear I didn’t get any sleep for a week.” He said, eyes soft. “I, um, got breakfast. It’s in the kitchen. Those breakfast sandwiches you like.”

Your lips curled into a tired smile. “Thanks. That’s really sweet.”

“Of course. Whatever you want today, just say the word.”

You crossed the room, walking right up to him and straight into his arms. He held you to him, read resting against yours. For a moment, he questioned if it had already happened, if he’d gotten the days mixed up.

If you already knew.

“I just need you to hold me.” You whispered, holding in tears. You should have been excited. It should have felt like Christmas Eve. You should have been absolutely buzzing with excitement for the day to come.

But you weren’t ready to let him go, for everything about your relationship to change. You needed more time.

“I can do that.” He said softly, thumbs etching circles into your shoulders. “As long as you need me to. I’ve got you. Always.”

“Okay.” You whispered, voice breaking. The tears finally slipping down your cheeks. It was all you could say to keep yourself from saying ‘I love you.’

You ate breakfast with the others. Natasha could tell you had been crying, so after, she took you, Wanda, Kate, and Yelena out of the house. It was a welcome distraction. The mall was the perfect spot. It always was.

“What about this one?” Wanda held another dress against you, imagining you in it for your birthday party the following night. Steve had taken it upon himself to be the entire planning committee, which was why he was back at the Compound with the boys, getting things in order. The only thing he wanted to have to worry about tomorrow was the party itself.

“Does it come in blue?” You asked, eyeing up the rack she’d pulled it off of.

“It does.” She smiled, putting the red one back in exchange for blue. It was sparkling, form-fitting, a little less formal than the one you’d worn to your Avengers induction, but it had the same vibe, just shorter and with a deeper neckline.

“Perfect.” You said, turning towards the dressing room. You handed Wanda your purse and slipped into it. It fit perfectly in all the right places. You did a little turn in the mirror, satisfied, and then walked out into the store again, where Natasha was nodding in approval.

“Alright, dress acquired, where to next?” Kate asked, checking the list she was keeping on her phone.

“I heard there is a Lego store here.” Yelena said absentmindedly, glancing out the door. “We should go.”

“Is that where you got Steve’s Millennium Falcon?” Natasha asked.

“Steve has a Millennium Falcon???” Yelena asked, eyes wide. “I want one.”

“I got it online. It was on sale.”

“I didn’t know Steve liked Star Wars.” Kate noted as you walked back into the dressing room to change back into your Star Wars shirt, ironically enough.

“Loves it. He’s a big nerd. Bucky, too. Buck’s more of a fantasy nerd, though. He’s super into Lord of the Rings.” You could hear the grin in Natasha’s voice when she said it.

“Steve said it was the first thing he watched out of the ice. Star Wars, that is. I don’t know if he’s seen Lord of the Rings yet.” You added. “And he’s talked about going to the Stark Expo back in the day. Vintage nerd.”

“Nice.”

Once you’d paid for the dress, you moved on to the Lego Store, where Yelena just about ran to the Millennium Falcon set to see it for herself.

“Lego typewriter.” Natasha noted, pointed at it. “Speaking of vintage nerd.”

“Oh I’m sure he’d get a kick out of that.” You laughed. Depending on how things settled after your soulmate bomb dropped, maybe you’d come back and get it for him. At the very least, you were pretty sure you’d still be friends after it all. And friends built Lego sets together.

“Hey, wait, there are Legos of us?” Kate asked, eyeing up the display where Steve had, you assumed, gotten your matching keychains. “This is news to me.”

“Let me see.” Yelena walked over and gasped, eyes falling on her Lego self.

Wanda smiled softly, head tilting as she looked at you. She rested her hand on your shoulder.

“It will be fine. To quote someone I care about very deeply: whoever they are, they are lucky to have you. Now, let’s forget about it for a bit.”

“Alright.” You agreed, letting her lead you over to the Build-a-Figure station, where you started mixing and matching the pieces. It was hard, but you let your worries melt away, at least for a little while.

***

Meanwhile, Steve was walking around the Compound with a clipboard, making sure everything was ready for the next day. Scott and the ants were helping put up the decorations. He’d sent Sam and Bucky to pick up the cake, and Tony had taken it upon himself to take care of the catering. A peace offering of sorts.

Steve was putting together the playlist for the party himself, hand-picking songs you liked, recommendations from Nat and Wanda, songs from Taylor Swift’s discography, and then, finally, a special song he’d been saving.

Steve liked to listen to his records in the privacy of his room, away from the ears of members of the team who would tease him for it. They were forties jazz mostly, made the place feel a little more like home, especially when you weren’t around. But there was a song that he would soon share with you, as soon as tomorrow came. He hesitated to add it, but eventually, he pressed his thumb to the song, adding it to the playlist.

He closed his eyes, remembering that moment. The last song of the night before Val’s closed. It was one of the last times he had gone there.

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when…” The singer’s voice had floated across the room, words striking him to his core. He got chills, opening his eyes again. God, he couldn’t wait for you to know. Sure, he was a supersoldier, but he was pretty sure the weight of his secret was finally crushing him.

***

You retreated to your room when you and the girls got home. It was kind of late. You’d decided to catch a movie while you were out. You didn’t mind. You were beyond ready to go to sleep and just…get it over with.

Off with the Band-Aid.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Steve asked, finding Natasha and Kate in the dining room.

“She went to her room for the night.” Kate replied innocently.

“Alright.” He nodded. “How was she doing?”

“Not great.” Yelena said, already into the box of the Lego set she’d settled on. “I mean, she’s like fine. Just…kinda sad.”

“Quiet.” Wanda agreed. Vision had his arm around her.

“Okay, well…” Steve put his hands on his hips, thinking. What was the harm in telling them now? Warning the rest of them what they’d be waking up to tomorrow. “Vision, can you round up the others?”

“Of course.” Vision nodded. “To be clear, I am to leave out (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everyone but (Y/N).” Steve confirmed, leading the others upstairs to one of the lounges. He sat on the couch, mouth resting against his hands, elbows on his knees. Tony sauntered in, followed by Bruce. The rest of the team filed in one by one, finding seats, staring at Steve, waiting for answers.

“So, um, thanks for coming everyone.” Steve said, meeting their eyes.

“Uh, Cap, we’re missing (Y/N).” Clint said, looking around.

“That’s the idea.” Natasha replied.

“Is this a party planning meeting? Do the decorations look okay? I really thought the ants did a good job.” Scott said.

“They did a great job.” Steve reassured him, taking a moment to collect his words. “So, as you all know, tomorrow is (Y/N)’s twenty-fifth birthday. And…I need to finally come clean. I’m her soulmate.”

“Okay, now that I did not know.” Tony said, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Your long lost love is one of our housemates?”

“Tony.” Nat shot him a look.

“No, I’m serious. I’m just…I’m relieved is all.” Tony admitted with a sigh. “I…the reason I didn’t tell her is because I didn’t know if Illustrians…I didn’t know if she’d have one. I figured…” He shook his head, staring at the floor. “I didn’t want to bring her down when it was so close.”

Steve took off the cuff on his wrist, finally finally showing him the mark that had been there since his twenty-fifth birthday in 1943. Your name, written in your neat, careful handwriting, first, middle, and last.

“Why not tell her, then?” Kate asked. “Why haven’t you told her?”

“That’s a little more complicated.” Steve thought. “When I turned twenty-five…she was there. In a few hours, when she goes to sleep, she’s headed to the forties to see…well, me, before the serum. I don’t know how or why, but…when she got there, she didn’t know. I didn’t want to risk changing anything. Butterfly effect and all that.”

“Time travel?” Bruce asked, eyes bugging out of his head. “You are just casually telling us that time travel exists.”

“I guess so.”

“Woah. Bruce. We’ve got some tests to run.” Tony said.

“Oh I am already taking notes in my head.”

The meeting ended shortly after that. The rest of the team gave him supportive words and smiles, but Tony’s were the most poignant.

“I don’t know what you’re still doing here, Rogers. Go see her off.”

“Right. Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good luck, Steve.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

***

You closed the door after Steve left, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall, steady and even. You let another tear roll down your cheek. All of the crying was exhausting. You just wanted to be done with it.

You sat on the bed, taking off your bra and chucking it across the room, laying back to relax and, hopefully, get some sleep.

The exhaustion must have been helping, because as soon as you closed your eyes, you felt the drifting start. It was strong and immediate, pulling you down through the mattress. You felt like you were floating and falling at the same time, limbs tingling. Your eyes shot open when you realized what was happening, but it was already too late.

And then everything went white.

Right Where You Left Me

In 1943, you walked hand in hand with your soulmate down the sidewalk, through Steve’s favorite park. It happened to be a shortcut between his favorite diner and the local theater. He liked to sit there sometimes, sketch couples walking by. Never had he imagined he’d be one of the couples someday.

For the past week, he’d about worried himself sick. He’d barely slept, he’d had no appetite, he’d had the worst art block of his life. Every time he fell asleep, he had dreams of finding his soulmate, only for them to be some pretty but shallow girl who didn’t want anything to do with him. He had nightmares of a grayed out mark like Bucky’s, or worse, no mark at all. Which is why when he’d run out that morning to get the mail, he hadn’t even checked yet.

Part of him didn’t want to.

And then he’d found you out there, laying under the mailbox.

And now, he was holding your hand.

You caught his eyes, grinning. He smiled back, heart racing. Gosh, maybe he needed to sit down.

“Hey, could we sit for a minute?” He asked, motioning to the bench beside the path and trying his best not to sound out of breath.

“Yeah, of course.” You agreed, following him and sitting down beside him, hand still clasped tight in yours. “Do you have an inhaler?”

“What’s an inhaler?”

“Shit, right, they probably haven’t been invented yet…” You murmured, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“You…know about the asthma.” He realized.

You nodded. “I know about all of it, Steve.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “And you’re still looking at me with those eyes?”

“What eyes?” You tilted your head, innocent. “There’s no one else I’d rather be looking at, Steve. Just you.”

“Okay, now I know you’re not real.”

“Am I gonna have to spend all day convincing you I am?”

“You just might.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a reddish mark there. “Oops. Sorry, let me—”

Steve grabbed your hand, stopping you from wiping it away. “Leave it. Bucky comes home covered in ‘em all the time. I’ve never gotten one before.”

“I am going to cover you in lipstick marks by the end of today.”

He grinned, finally standing up to keep moving. “Is that a promise?”

***

It was nearing the end of the night. Steve could feel his time with you was nearly spent. So he led you by the hand to the stairs at the back of the bar, the ones that led up to the roof. He’d found himself up there alone on quite a few nights, when the double dates Bucky set up inevitably crumbled.

It was a beautiful night, clear. The stars were out in force, dotting the sky in perfect constellations. In the distance, fireworks boomed. It was one thing he’d always loved about his birthday.

“Wow, this is great.” You murmured, looking out at the city. It was like you were living in a photograph, the old buildings looming in the skyline, vintage cars driving down the street.

“My favorite spot.” He explained, walking over to the railing.

“I can see why.” You let out a sigh, gripping his hand tighter, fingers laced with his. You turned towards him, looking at the smattering of kiss marks on his cheeks. You’d kept true to your word.

Steve twirled you around, pulling you closer, a soft, romantic smile on his face. “God, you are so beautiful.”

“Let me show you something.” You told him, drawing his eyes to your hand where you made a tiny, gentle forcefield, its blue light shining across his features.

“What…is that?” He asked, staring at the orb. “Is that how you got here? Where were you keeping it?”

You curled your fingers, letting the bubble fizzle away. “It’s not a thing. It’s part of me. Something I’ve been able to do since college. There are a lot of people like me where I’m from, people with gifts. Steve…after I leave, your life is about to get a lot weirder than time travel and forcefields. I can’t tell you how or why, but…”

“I appreciate the heads-up.” He assured you, smiling. “And I love you, too. I didn’t say it down there, and I know I just met you this morning, but…I…I love you so much, doll. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

“You, Steve Rogers, are going to do amazing things.” You whispered, taking his hand again.

“Says the girl with superpowers.”

“I’m serious.” You told him. “I grew up hearing stories about you. I wanted to be just like you. Brave beyond words, fiercely loyal. I guess it only makes sense that we share a soul.”

Steve grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you deeply, lips dancing against your own, heart racing, knees wobbling like Jell-O. He rested his nose against yours, breathing shallow.

“Careful, there. Don’t let me take your breath away.”

He shook his head, kissing you one last time before murmuring, “Oh doll, I could do this all day.” He glanced back towards the door, music from downstairs faint. He took your hand. “Let’s go back downstairs. I think they’re playing the last song.”

You smirked, following him. “I thought you had two left feet.”

He shrugged. “I’m a quick learner.”

***

After you’d disappeared, Steve felt hollow, walking slowly back into the house. Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table, absently reading the paper. He met Steve’s eyes when he heard his trudging footsteps.

“She left you something.” Bucky chucked the bundle of fabric at him and Steve caught it, holding it out in front of him.

Your Star Wars shirt. Shit. He hoped you didn’t need it for anything. “Uh oh.”

“Might fit you.” Bucky chuckled. “Obviously you can’t wear it out, but…”

“Yeah.” Steve agreed, eyes sparkling with tears. He held it to his face, inhaling the scent of your perfume like it was oxygen. “God, I miss her.”

“I know, pal. It’ll be alright. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it will be.” Bucky’s eyes fell to the grayed out mark on his own wrist, so faint it was barely legible. “You just gotta take it one day at the time.”

Don’t Know Where, Don’t Know When

Your veins were on fire. The blinding white shimmered, giving way to…your ceiling. You were laying on your bed again, sunlight streaming through the window.

You blinked a few times, feeling flowing back into your limbs slowly. Your heart raced. You sat up, staring at your hands. Soon enough, your eyes found your wrist. The letters were still there, spelling out the name of your soulmate.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“Oh my god.” You looked up and met your reflection’s eyes, your hair still set in elegant 40s waves. Your pajamas were gone, replaced with the blue dress. Your lips were a deep shade of red, the same shade you’d left all over Steve’s face last night. A different Steve in a different time.

You let out a breath, standing up and walking towards the door, your new-vintage forties heels clicking with every step. You marched straight out to the kitchen, where Steve was sitting at the table, fiddling with his cuff. He was sitting across the table from Bucky and Natasha, whose eyes tried to warn Steve that you were approaching behind him.

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Um, how’d you sleep?” He asked, eyes widening when he saw the way you were dressed. His first love, in the flesh, just the way he remembered her.

“I didn’t.” You replied, grabbing his wrist and pulling him out of the room, snatching up the folding footstool leaned on the end counter as you passed.

“Good luck, pal.” Bucky laughed.

You just about kicked open the door of the conference room, skirt swishing as you did. You closed the door behind you, locking it with a click.

“(Y/N), listen, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but—”

You unfolded the stool, getting up on top of it and pushing him against the wall. You crushed your lips against his, hands grasping the fabric of his shirt. He moaned into your mouth, frozen for a moment until the rest of him got the hint. His eyes fluttered shut, strong arms wrapped around your waist, head tilting as he deepened the kiss.

Your grip on his shirt weakened, arms looping behind his neck, holding him close as his lips left yours. He rested his forehead against yours, breaths ragged. He laughed, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to hide the tint of his cheeks.

“Not quite where I thought this conversation was gonna go.” He murmured against you, pressing kisses up your neck.

You reached for his left hand, fingers lingering against the strip of leather that was still hiding your name.

“You can take it off.” He told you, eyes sparkling. “It’s about time.”

Carefully, you undid the metal bit holding it in place and peeled it back, revealing your name etched there onto his skin, your handwriting unmistakable. You choked on a sob, tears slipping down your face.

“The whole time?” You asked, grabbing onto his hand with both of yours. “You knew the whole time?”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, eyes falling to the hand you were holding. “I…You didn’t know when I met you. I didn’t want to risk…changing anything.” I didn’t want to risk losing you.

“I can’t believe…Here I thought I was your rebound.” You laughed, sniffling through your tears of relief. “I thought you were falling in love with me and I would be the asshole for getting a soulmate and breaking your heart. And it was me the whole time.”

“That’s why you were worried we wouldn’t be friends?” He asked softly.

You nodded, more tears falling when you remembered the way you’d felt day before.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He shook his head, wiping your tears away. “Honestly…I’m really glad we got to be friends first. Most soulmates don’t get that. It made me appreciate every moment with you even more. It was weird and hard, but…loving you was easy. Always has been. It was not telling you that was crushing me.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner…” You said, shaking your head. “All of those little moments…the reading chair, the Hunger Games marathon, the cabin…” Your heart ached remembering the night in the cabin.

You remembered him sleeping against the wall in the infirmary after you’d been knocked unconscious, unwilling and unable to leave you alone when you were hurt. You remembered the bewildered look in his eyes when he thought you were dressed up for a date instead of Wanda’s birthday outing. The argument about whether or not you should go on the Red Room mission, when he was more worried about your safety than anything else, broken over the idea of something happening to you when he wasn’t there to help. The Lego set you’d spent hours building together, his hands so careful, fingers brushing against yours every so often. The mission in the Amazon, when the only thing he could think about while pseudo-drunk was you.

It was always you. It had always been you.

“Steve…”

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked quietly, watching you, searching your eyes for some flicker of disappointment. “It’s okay if you need time. I’d understand. It’s…well, it’s a lot to process.”

“I just…” You sighed, squeezing his hand. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Believe it.” He said. He raised your hand, pressing a long kiss to your soulmark. “I love you, (Y/N) (L/N). I always have.”

“I love you too.” You confessed, earning that handsome smile he was so famous for. You couldn’t help but admire him, your supersoldier, the man that time had saved specifically for you. “I don’t need time. I just need you.”

You looked down at your new dress, realizing for the first time what it meant that you were still wearing it. You’d left your other clothes behind.

“Right. Before I forget.” Steve said, presenting a tattered, faded wad of fabric that had once been a shirt. “You left this at my place.”

You unfurled the fabric to find your missing Star Wars shirt, or what was left of it. You stared at it, dumbfounded. “You’ve had this the whole time?!”

“Took it everywhere with me.” He admitted. “Storming Hydra bases in Europe, Battle of New York, Sokovia, everywhere. I used to wear it, back when I was…you know, but it didn’t fit after my growth spurt. Sorry I couldn’t get it to you in better shape.”

“This is why you like Star Wars.” You realized, staring at it and looking back up at him.

“Yes.”

“Oh my god.” You laughed, shaking your head. You handed it back to him. “I think you need this more than I do, Steve. You can hold onto it for me if you want.”

He smiled, eyes soft. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, of course. I know it’s safe in your hands.”

Your shirt wasn’t the only thing that was safe in his hands. You were pretty sure, finally, that your heart was, too.

You stepped down from your footstool. Steve watched with an amused smile, chuckling.

“We had less of a height difference last night.” You reminded him, folding up the stool.

“I remember.” He reached for your hand and you gave it to him. He brought it to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles with care. “God, I missed this. I missed you so much, doll. Which is silly because you’ve been here, but…”

“I get it.” You reassured him, dropping his hands and wrapping your arms around him instead.

He hugged you to his chest, resting his head against yours and letting out a long breath. You could tell he’d been holding it in for a long, long time.

***

Before you changed out of your forties look, Wanda insisted on a little photoshoot, which you were grateful for. Looking back, it would be fun to have pictures, even just as more proof that it had actually happened. Steve obviously sat in on some of the photos.

You asked some questions, of course, such as “who all knew?” The answer was everyone, but not until the night before when he’d finally come clean to the team. Before that, it had just been Bucky and Nat, and more recently, Sam.

Wanda claimed she had felt something, but never pried. Anyone could see it, though. Anyone with eyeballs. The way he looked at you had always been with love.

You changed into your dress for the party, necklace on display between your collarbones. You touched up your makeup a little bit, but left it. Bucky’s vintage lady friend had done a good job.

Tony showed up about an hour before the party was supposed to start, instructing the caterers. He stopped in his tracks, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. “Rogers tell you my side of the story?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And I appreciate you looking out for me. Kind of. In your own way.”

“And I am sorry, for the record. Maybe there would have been a way to bring it up without…you know.” Tony shrugged. “Happy birthday, kid. I’m glad it all worked out for you and the old-timer.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Got in touch with your parents. You were right. They’re off-planet. But I have their contact info if you want to…”

“Yeah, I’d really like that. Thank you, Tony.”

“Of course. I’ll get that all squared away.”

Steve walked up to you as Tony walked away, eyes landing on the necklace there. You realized, as he stared at it, that you’d been wearing it the night before. You hadn’t taken it off before bed.

“Is that what you meant when you said you had help picking it out?” You realized, putting the pieces together. “I thought you meant Natasha or something.”

“No, I uh…” He grinned, nodding. “I got a good look at it that night. You never said who gave it to you, but I figured it may as well be me.”

Steve was wearing a blue button-up, his nice black slacks that did everything for his legs. He’d shaved, combed his hair all neat. His hand settled on the small of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You stood on your toes, hooking an arm around his neck and tugging him down for a kiss, lips melting against his. You felt his warm hand settle on your jaw, tilting your head just so. He smelled good, like his woodsy mahogany cologne. His breath was fresh, spearmint. And his lips were soft, confident but gentle.

His nose nuzzled yours, breath warm as it fanned across your cheeks. He met your eyes for a moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling you against him again. Now that he could touch you freely, he just couldn’t get enough.

“Bout time.” Bucky chuckled, walking into the room, Natasha’s hand in his. She looked great, wearing a nice red dress. “How are you two doing?”

“Great, Buck.” Steve replied, still not letting you go as he swayed. “I’m doin’ great. How are you, birthday girl?”

“It’s the best one I’ve had so far.” You said, echoing his words when you’d asked him the same question. You kissed him again, lips finding his easily.

He smiled, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Same here.” You told him. “I’ve had a crush on you since middle school. Imagine how I feel.”

“Middle school???” He asked, laughing.

“Yeah, why do you think I was crying at Air and Space Museum?”

“I was still in the ice!”

“Middle school girl crushes know no bounds, Captain Rogers.” Kate said, her and Yelena walking into the room next, more or less matching in their black dresses and purple and red accents. “I had plenty of crushes on old dead guys when I was in middle school. No offense.”

He laughed. “None taken.”

The party guests arrived in waves. The remainder of the team came, along with the extended family: Maria Hill, Jane Foster and her intern Darcy. A handful of your college friends came, buzzing about the prospect of being at the Avengers Compound, as well as the fact that you were an Avenger now, since most of them hadn’t seen you since that change had occurred.

You greeted them all as they came in, smiling and laughing and joking around like you did during the good old days. You introduced them to your new friends, your team. The playlist Steve had agonized over set the perfect tone. Some songs were upbeat and danceable, some were chill and slow, giving the couples in the room the chance to pair off and dance together.

During one of such songs, Steve offered his hand.

“Come on, let’s dance.”

“Like old times…” You murmured, hand sliding into his as he led you out onto the makeshift dancefloor.

Steve faced you, strong hand settling on your waist, the other still wrapped around yours. There was only one song it could be, of course. His favorite of the songs you had shown him thus far. He spun you around, face hovering just behind your ear, where he pressed a tender kiss before spinning you back around to face him.

“Even if we’d met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war…”

“You still would have been mine, we would have been timeless…” You sang softly, meeting his eyes, the smile on your face matching his own. It was like Taylor had plucked the lyrics from your very heart.

“I think we kind of are.” He said, head nuzzled to yours, still swaying along to the song.

“Yeah, I think so too.” You replied.

When the song was over, Steve leaned in and asked, “Can I give you your presents now?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded.

He led you out of the room and down the hall to one of the conference rooms, where he’d stashed them earlier. There were four things waiting there. A medium box, a tiny box, and two easels covered with sheets.

He turned a chair around and motioned for you to sit, so you did. He handed you the bigger box first, and the infamous clinking sound gave it away before you could even get the wrapping paper off.

“Oh I think I know what this is.”

“I thought you might say that.” He chuckled. “I didn’t know if you had this one or not. I kept the receipt just in case…”

You tore the paper off to reveal a Lego set. It was Van Gogh’s Starry Night. “I don’t have this one yet. And I cannot wait to build it with you.”

“That makes two of us, doll.” He kissed your cheek, handing you the next present, the smaller one.

You tore the paper off to reveal a small velvet box. You gently lifted the lid and inside, there was a set of star earrings and a simple silver band. An eternity band, if you weren’t mistaken. Not an engagement ring, but it was a common gift for soulmates to give once they found each other, especially after they’d spent some time together.

“Oh, Steve…” You murmured, tears in your eyes. “They’re beautiful.”

“Can I?” He asked, kneeling down beside you and reaching for the ring.

“Yeah, of course.” You held out your hand and let him slide the band onto your finger. How he’d gotten your size, you didn’t know, but it fit perfectly.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this since 1943.” He confessed, hands lingering around your own.

“It’s still so crazy to me.” You sighed, shaking your head. You met his eyes. “You were in love with me before I even existed, before my parents were even born.”

“I know.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek, another to the corner of your lips. “When I woke up after the ice, I…I was lonely for a while. I spent a lot of days alone, learning, trying to figure out the new world I’d found myself in. I was kind of bitter. I didn’t know why it had happened to me…until I found you in the mall that day. And then I knew it wasn’t some accident. What happened to me was fate. You’re my destiny. Everything that happened led me straight to you and it was all worth it.”

“You can’t keep doing this to me.” You sighed, fingers intertwining with his.

“Doing what?”

You leaned your forehead against his, whispering, “Making me fall more in love with you.”

“No promises.” He laughed, kissing your lips and pulling you to your feet. “On my twenty-fifth, you said you didn’t know I was an artist and I promised I’d show you sometime.”

He pulled the sheet off of the first painting. It was you, glowing a brilliant blue, streaks of energy emanating from you like you were a star. Your eyes glowed, hair blew in the breeze. Behind you was a bright waypoint and zipping through the air was his shield, all of it captured in breathtaking oil painting. You wondered how long it had taken.

“This is so beautiful, Steve.” You rested your head against him, arm wrapped around his waist. “You made me look like a freaking goddess.”

“Well now you know how I see you.” He reached for the sheet covering the second painting, a little more careful with this one due to the age of it alone. “You might recognize this one.”

It was the painting from the antique shop, the soulmates dancing in Val’s. Now, with your new knowledge, you recognized them immediately. It was you and Steve. Always had been. Tears slipped down your cheeks and your hand covered your mouth, muffling your sobs. There was a time when you were afraid no one would ever love you as much as the blond-haired man loved the girl he was dancing with and it had been you all along.

But that little blond guy had painted it for you, not knowing whether or not you would ever get to see it.

You turned to Steve, standing on your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders, head resting against his strong frame as you cried.

“I never stopped looking. Never.” Steve said, voice getting emotional. “Every base I went to, I met every nurse. At every coffee shop, I studied every college student in case you were there doing homework. Every time I went to the theater, I was scanning faces for yours. It became habit, looking for you. I…”

“You found me.” You said, pulling away to see his face. You brushed his tears away with a gentle thumb. “You found me, Steve.”

He surged forward, kissing you deeply, with a century of passion behind his lips. Your hand wandered into his soft blond hair, the other settling against his firm chest. His hands caressed your body, memorizing every curve and dip, lips chasing yours through every slight movement. And after, he pressed a dozen kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. You giggled, finally catching his lips again.

Your breaths were heavy when he finally pulled away; his, too. You straightened out the fabric of his dress shirt, pulling him back down for one last kiss. Then another. Then, really, one last one.

“I love you, Steve Rogers. Now, then, and always.”

“Now, then, and always.” He murmured, kissing you again.

The two of you cleaned yourselves up before returning to the rest of the party. You blew out your candles and made your wish, for an eternity side by side with him, that wherever life took the two of you, it took you there together.

You had a slice of cake and some ice cream, sitting on the couch next to Steve, legs draped over his. He used his thumb to dab a little frosting onto the tip of your nose. You smeared frosting across his cheek with yours, which made him laugh.

After, there was one last song before most of the guests would be headed home for the night. As soon as the instrumental kicked in, you got emotional. It had been your last song with Steve the night before, a song that had been written about those going off to war, their futures as uncertain as the stars were numerous.

For Steve, it held a different meaning. He’d known then that his time with you was running out. He had no idea when he’d see you again, just that it would be a long time and that the version of you he met wouldn’t even know him yet, that it might be years before he got to kiss you again.

And so, the two of you danced as you had the night before, on Steve’s twenty-fifth and on yours, your face tucked against his, his arms wrapped tight around you as you swayed gently to the music.

“We’ll meet again. Don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…”

Tags: @cap-lu20

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #mcu #soulmate au #steve rogers soulmate au #the avengers

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