You could do things better on your own. You weren't built for teamwork. And that's why being seen by two super soldiers seemed liked the hardest mission of all.
Your chest burned. You were so cold that you could feel your body trembling.
You sat up suddenly, coughing and sputtering up water. It hurt deeply. Everything hurt. You couldn't breathe. You were suffocating.
"Deep breaths," Steve commanded. "You're panicking."
"Of course I'm panicking, asshole," you wheezed. "I thought I was going to die." You coughed up more water.
Steve had a firm hand on your back. Your eyes finally focused, and you realized Bucky was the one who was soaking wet.
"Where's Natasha?" you asked.
"Come on," Steve encouraged, helping you stand. "We can't stay here long."
You weren't steady on your feet, and you nearly crumpled from the pain in your legs. You were confused by your surroundings, realizing you were on an embankment. The smell of smoke and dust hurt your struggling lungs. The trees made everything seem dark and dim. Your vision felt clouded, the blackness creeping in.
"Wait-" you protested. Did Nat and the others not make it out? Everything felt sluggish and slow, and you still couldn't breathe.
Steve picked you up, cradling you to his chest and offering you some relief from the cold.
Your eyes grew heavy, and the blackness took over.
---
The next time you woke up was at the infirmary at the compound. The familiar setting, though sterile and cold, eased you a little.
You pulled the pulse oximeter off of your finger to stop the annoying beeping. You grimaced as your whole body ached when you shifted slightly.
You were trying to carefully remove the IV line from your arm when Steve stepped into the room.
You finally got free, going to stand up using the bed.
"Where do you think you're going?" Steve asked.
"Anywhere else," you said. "Where's Nat?"
"Natasha is fine," he said. "She and the others made it out safely."
Finally, your chest loosened just a little bit.
"Why the hell couldn't you tell me that earlier?"
"Because I had just given you CPR after Bucky dragged you out of the freezing water. I didn't think you were actually awake. Sit back down."
"No," you said, though you were still leaning against the bed, using it to support your weight. "Not actually awake? You were trying to make me walk it off, jerk."
"What were you thinking?" Steve asked, stepping closer.
"Don't start," you warned. "I had to clear the rest of the building. It's what each one of you on this stupid team would have done. You're the one who couldn't even bother to answer me on comms. What's the point of us even working together if I'm going to be off on my own anyway?"
"You're insufferable," Steve growled.
"You and Buck should have come inside once you heard the alarm go off. It wouldn't have mattered if you were super soldiers then, would it?"
"We were ambushed by the guards," he said firmly. "There were several of them as a distraction."
He came to your side, physically sitting you back on the bed. You crossed your arms with a huff as he pulled up a chair of his own.
"You almost drowned."
"Well, I can't swim," you said.
He seemed surprised and most definitely even more annoyed. "What?"
"I was going down either way," you said, taking a second to realize that your body hurt. Really hurt. Your ribs, your back, your legs. It all ached painfully.
There was a knock on your door. You were relieved to see Nat.
"How was your first dip in the ocean, ryba?" she teased.
"Freezing," you admitted. "I'm really glad you are okay."
"Me? I'm fine. You, however, have taken quite the hit. You're lucky Barnes saw you fall and went right in before the rest of the building collapsed."
"And the others?" you asked Steve.
"The five others made it out in time," he confirmed.
"I got more than enough information to finish my job," Natasha said. "I owe you one."
You shook your head. She didn't owe you anything. You simply put a key in a lock and made a much bigger mess, as usual.
Natasha left, and you stood up again, making Steve grumble.
You nearly ran right into Bucky who steadied your slow shuffle with his hands on your arms.
"Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I'll rest in my room," you said, attempting to go around him, but he held firm.
"I can't get her to lie down," Steve said behind you. The two of them were crowding you.
"Let go," you said, already regretting the additional moves you were doing to get out of his hold.
"You're still under observation," Bucky said sternly. "The doctors want to make sure your lungs are completely clear."
"Just because you saved me does not mean that I have to listen to you," you said back just as firmly.
Steve made a move to pick you up again. You hated it. You hated feeling cornered, and you hated that you didn't think, just acted. The force of energy that left you knocked the two of them back several feet, even the wall and the floors rattled.
You were already so depleted that you collapsed, vision going black. You didn't have the strength to stand.
"Hey," Bucky murmured, surprisingly soft. The softest you had heard him speak. He seemed almost fond. "Open your eyes for us, brat."
You muffled your groan, struggling to peel your eyes open. Your whole body hurt even more from the fall to the ground.
"Damn it," Steve cursed. "You win, alright? We'll take you to your room as long as you promise to never do that again."
You were surprised by the bubble of laughter that threatened to escape despite the pain you felt.
Bucky very gently picked you up. "Such a damn brat," he grumbled.
"You're just mad that even like this I could make you eat shit."
Bucky said nothing else and you allowed yourself to settle, just this one time while someone was close. Just this once because you were hurt. That's the only reason why they were here.
---
You couldn't breathe again. You were gasping, coughing, but you weren't getting air. You were suffocating, slowly dying.
Until someone touched you. You jerked back with a gasp, opening your eyes.
"Easy," Bucky murmured. "It was just a dream."
"It wasn't a dream," you said, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face. "Why are you here?"
Bucky's eyes flare. Even in the dark room, they catch the sliver of light from the window.
"I watched you disappear under that water," he growled. "I watched you fall stories out of a building with concrete and whatever the hell else falling around you."
You didn't understand his urgency, his fear. He was worried about you? That didn't make any sense.
"You didn't wait," you said quietly, finally understanding. "That's why Steve is so pissed because you didn't hesitate before getting into the water. He was worried about you."
"He wasn't worried just for me," Bucky said. "He was worried about you, too."
"I'm not worth worrying for," you said.
"What the hell did you just say?" Steve asked, entering the room. He had an ice pack. "Do you really think I want to watch a teammate die, especially you?"
"You can't just barge in here," you said, before quietly repeating. "Especially me?"
"I know Steve's a hard ass, but you can't blame him. He's incredibly overprotective over the people he cares about."
You didn't know what to say. Cares about you?
You didn't want to believe it, except it was the middle of the night and the two of them were wide awake rotating shifts like some threat was going to take you out if they didn't guard you.
Steve wrapped the ice pack in a towel from your bathroom. "This will help the pain from the bruising on your ribs."
You inhaled once, then exhaled. You were growing tired of pushing them away today.
"Sit," you decided, scooting over so he could join you and Bucky.
You took the icepack, your fingers brushing his.
"Your hands are really warm," Steve murmured. "That is not going to stay cold long."
"It's fine," you insisted. You could barely think straight with the two of them in your space. You could only imagine that Steve would hold the ice pack for you if you only asked, his hands under your shirt.
You shook away the thought. That was ridiculous. What had gotten into you?
Bucky adjusted the blankets around you so they felt less trapping and tangled from all the tossing you did from your nightmare. You settled back against your pillows.
"You are right," you murmured to Steve. You were thinking of all of the reprimands Steve had given you for not following orders. "I don't listen well. I'm out there and I can't think straight. I can't be on a team. I'm going to get someone killed."
"I think you stay clear-headed," Steve said. "I always try to put you in situations that I control, where I feel like you are the most protected. It drives me crazy when you do your own thing because I know you are at risk, and we never want to see anything happening to you."
You still didn't understand why. Why did they care so much? Why did they care at all?
Did Steve blame himself?
You looked up, studying him in the low light. He was watching you so intensely.
"This is not your fault," you told him. "It was my decision
"Not my fault?" Steve repeated with a scoff. "I thought I sent you somewhere that you couldn't come back from."
You took in a shaky breath. It had never dawned on you the weight that Steve carried. You always assumed him to be arrogant and righteous, handsome too, but he also carried the responsibility of every single member of the team. That's why he was the one that got a group to go after Nat. He was protective to a fault.
"She should get some rest," Bucky told him quietly.
Steve nodded, and the weight of the two of them left your bed.
You weren't tired, but Bucky adjusted the blankets around you anyway.
They didn't leave the room, and honestly, you were glad not to be alone.
You could do things better on your own. You weren't built for teamwork. And that's why being seen by two super soldiers seemed liked the hardest mission of all.
---
"We're a team," Steve told you sternly. "We don't go off doing our own things when it compromises each other."
This was not your first time getting this lecture.
"Captain," you said. "I was the one in the field. I saw a better way."
"That's fine," he said, crossing his broad arms across his chest. "But you report that to me and I decide whether or not we pursue it."
You found him to be arrogant, self-centered, and absolutely insufferable.
"Yes Captain," you grumbled, leaving the conference room.
You didn't even want to be part of this stupid team anyway. Tony had taken you in when you were left for dead.
You went to the homey section of the compound, going to the kitchen for a snack.
"Hey, brat," Bucky said, fully geared up with a tablet in his hand.
If there was anyone that you hated more than the righteous Steve Rogers, it was his pet, Bucky Barnes.
You ignored him, pulling out items to make a sandwich. He was watching you, irritating you further.
"Do you need something?" you asked.
"Just wanted to make sure you weren't going to scorch the fridge like last time."
You tried to stuff down the way your cheeks heated. It was embarrassing that you couldn't control your abilities, not all of them at least. You threw large discs of hot energy. It was a pretty useless skill and took a lot out of you to do so, no matter how hard you trained and practiced.
But even more useless than that was the way that your hands heated objects. It was useless heat like you were nothing more than a mug warmer, but occasionally it would act up with your emotions. You couldn't control it at all and last week there had been a fridge incident.
You ignored him, putting the food away and taking your sandwich to your room. You didn't want to deal with anyone.
---
Steve and Tony had called an emergency meeting because Nat was missing. She hadn't checked in like she was supposed to.
You realized you and Clint were the only ones in this meeting. Everyone else must be scattered.
You were physically and mentally exhausted, zoning out for whatever they were talking about.
Don't get it wrong, you were worried. You adored Nat. She was one of the few people who you felt like understood you. But you also knew she was fully capable of handling herself, and it wasn't worth a panic. The job she was working was important to her and she didn't need the whole misfit crew screwing things up for her.
Bucky said your name, and you realized that everyone was looking at you. You felt yourself flush.
"What?" you whispered. You had completely missed the conversation.
"Steve and the cyborg are setting up an extraction team and they chose you to go with," Tony explained.
The three of you together seemed like a horrible idea.
"I just got back. Besides, I can't offer any help if I'm the one to go. I exhausted all of my abilities yesterday."
"I know her code and will be listening," Clint said.
You realized that you were the only one to go with them.
"I just need to change," you told Steve, who nodded.
"I'll get the jet," Steve agreed.
---
"Clint heard from Nat. She's in a cell beneath the building," Steve said. "The place is rigged. They are expecting super soldiers. Nat said for Buck and I to stay out."
"So I'm going in," you murmured. Alone as usual. It was stupid to even be a part of this team.
Steve regarded you coolly. "Yes, but we will be tracking you. Please listen to us over comms for a change. We'll guide you right to Nat and back out. It'll be easy."
You highly doubted that. Nothing was ever easy.
The building was completely empty. The walls were glass, built right into a large cliff and overlooking the ocean below. It felt like being on a pier combined with a luxurious penthouse suite.
You listened to Steve as he guided you to where Nat was being held. The basement had a completely different vibe. It was dark and cold and had rows and rows of cells. What the hell was this place? It was mostly empty too.
"Hey, you," Nat grinned as you nearly walked right by her. "Care to let me out?"
"Nat," you sighed with relief. "Are you hurt?"
"Not much," she said. "You should see the other guy. There's an office down the hall. The keys should be in there."
"Okay," you agreed, though a bit skeptical of the ease of this. "Where the hell is everyone?"
"There were three guys guarding, but they come and go. I haven't seen them in a while, so you better hurry."
You jog down the massive row of cells to the odd office that looks more like it belongs upstairs than down here. It's stunning and modern and overlooks the water perfectly, like it's suspended in air.
"Located Nat, looking for keys," you told Steve. The office was empty and you found the keys in the draw of the desk.
It was silent on the other end.
As soon as you touched the keys, a shrilling alarm went off. It pierced your ears and you cursed, sprinting back towards Nat.
You caught a glimpse of another row of cells. You knew you weren't going to be able to leave unless you cleared the rest of the building.
"Rogers," you called. "Barnes."
When you unlocked Nat's cell, it felt like the whole building shifted and groaned.
"I don't think we have much time," Nat said.
"I can't get ahold of Steve or Buck," you admitted, barely able to think or speak over the alarm.
Nat started to move, but you stopped her.
"There could still be others down here," you said. "Go help Steve and I'll meet you."
Nat knew you wouldn't budge on this. She nodded. "Be careful and be quick."
You went further into the basement towards the office as the building felt like it was collapsing under your feet.
All of the cells were empty except for two. With the keys you had, you were able to get everyone out. You didn't know what the hell they had done to be put down here, but no one deserved to die.
The ceiling began to crumble around you. The dust and debris made it impossible for you to make it back towards the stairs. The only way out was blocked. Your earpiece crackled like someone was trying to speak but you couldn't understand nor hear them.
The floor shook violently and you fell to the ground. The walls began to collapse in. This place wasn't rigged to explode like Steve had thought; it was going to fall right into the ocean.
The staircase was blocked and completely impassable. You had been all over the basement and knew that was the only way up.
"Dammit," you said. The light coming in the windows of that office was the only point of navigation.
"Cap," you called. You only got a crackle in return, but maybe that meant that they could hear you.
"I'm trapped inside," you said, watching pieces of the building fall and hit the water. Your heart began to race as you realized what this meant. "I think I am going to jump in the water."
It was a ridiculous idea. The drop was far and the building would likely follow you down. You would be hurt by all of the debris.
Not to mention that you couldn't swim and you were going to have to use your already depleted energy to break the glass.
It was still your best option.
You just hoped that Nat and the others made it out.
You put all of your effort into throwing energy, the windows of the office shattering, scraping and burning your skin.
You didn't think. You jumped.
It felt like you were falling forever and ever before you hit the water so hard that it hurt everything. The freezing water prickled your skin, the salt agonizing the cuts. You struggled to move as the building fell around you, pushing you further down when you were already floundering.
You knew you needed to go up, but you were too weak. You couldn't breathe. The debris was impossible to dodge.
You could do things better on your own. You weren't built for teamwork. And that's why being seen by two super soldiers seemed liked the hardest mission of all.
•Part 1
•Part 2 - Sunday, Feb 22nd, 11:59pm EST
•Part 3
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You put all of your effort into throwing energy, the windows of the office shattering, scraping and burning your skin.
You didn't think. You jumped.
It felt like you were falling forever and ever before you hit the water so hard that it hurt everything. The freezing water prickled your skin, the salt agonizing the cuts. You struggled to move as the building fell around you, pushing you further down when you were already floundering.
You knew you needed to go up, but you were too weak. You couldn't breathe. The debris was impossible to dodge.
You startled, turning around. You found a tall, huge man with broad shoulders. He was blonde. His frown was tight and so was his shirt which you had to move your gaze from.
"Yelena's friend," you murmured.
"Yelena doesn't have any friends. Why don't you try again?" he asked, stepping closer to you.
"Back off, Walker," Yelena said. "Why are you so surprised that I have a friend?"
"Because I know you," John quipped arrogantly.
"Okay, fine," Yelena said. "I went into this cute bakery for something sweet. I saw her. I saw her baklava was sold out and I wanted some."
"So you kidnapped her?"
Yelena huffed, like she couldn't believe he would suggest a thing.
"I offered," you said, finally speaking up. "It's the least I could do after you all brought the city back."
"See, Walker, I didn't kidnap her," Yelena said. "God, you really think so little of me."
John rolled his eyes.
The timer of the oven beeped and you opened it, pulling out a huge lasagna.
"Oh my god that looks incredible," Yelena said, eyes widening a bit.
"That's not baklava," he said.
"You all barely have any food in this place," you said. "so I made dinner."
"I'll get the others. We'll all eat together," she insisted, leaving the kitchen.
John was still watching you. His gaze was unwavering, stern.
"What's your name?" he asked.
You introduced yourself to him. He went around you to pull out plates and things to set the table.
"It's been a long time since I have had a home cooked meal," he admitted.
"Well, I am happy to cook for you all anytime."
"Don't say that unless you mean it," Yelena said, a few others trailing behind her. "This is Bucky, Bob, Ava and Alexei."
You greeted them shyly.
"The lasagna is hot if someone wants to carry it over. I have a fresh loaf of bread from my shop and a salad," you said, setting everything out for them to take over to the large table.
"You have to eat with us," Yelena said.
"I'm okay. I'm going to finish up the dessert," you told her.
"Come on," John said. "You've been on your feet all day. At least take a break."
"I'm fine," you murmured, peeking up at him. He was watching you so carefully that you felt the heat rise in your face.
You loved hearing the chatter at the table as they ate. The baklava was baking and the syrup was simmering so you started on the dishes.
Until you were grabbed from behind and lifted up. You squeaked a protest as John set you in a stool.
"Sit," he demanded. "You don't get to clean up too."
----
A/N: Been a minute. Miss you all :) had this one drafted and rediscovered it. Originally John Walker x reader but never finished ...still love the vibe of the characters even though it is a bit random.
Check me out on Wattpad and TikTok (thequeenslushie) I make fun marvel thirst traps haha
There's a moment in Endgame that i think is very overshadowed because it's between Steve picking up Thor's hammer and the portals opening.
Steve was hurt, but he gets back up to face Thanos' army alone. He was one against all of them, but he still stood up against them. He had to have known that he couldn't defeat them, but he was still going to try.
Idk. That's just such a true representation of Steve's character.
You're a cleaner for The Avengers' Compound. Your boss is creepy, and that doesn't go unnoticed by Steve Rogers. When your boss tries to hurt you, it's Steve that comes to the rescue.
TW: attempted Sexual Assault/Depicted Abuse. My intention is to never ever make light of these situations.
--
Most of the time, your eyes found his blue ones. It was a piercing blue that resembled the vast ocean. Your heart seemed to skip inside of your chest at his presence.
You didn't have many interactions with Steve Rogers, Captain America, as the world knows him, but there was one in particular that never left your mind.
You were pushing your cleaning cart along the hallway, wiping the windows as you came across them. You didn't even hear Steve Rogers come up behind you until you turned around.
You startled a bit, feeling the blush creep up your neck.
"Who did this to you?" he asked, his beautiful features furrowed. He hesitantly reached out to brush his thumb across the bruise on your cheek.
Your boss had struck you out of frustration, for whatever reason. It was the first time he had been violent, but you wished you would have taken it as a warning for what was to come.
"It was just an accident," you told Steve, whom you knew was not convinced.
He kept a watchful eye on you from that point forward.
However, Steve liked to train new recruits alongside Natasha Romanoff, and their work with the Avengers had them all over the map.
You weren't surprised to find that you would be cleaning some of the suites that belonged to the Avengers while they were away, because that was typical. The superhero group preferred their privacy for what little downtime they had, and you only ever went into their spaces when they requested.
You were cleaning Natasha's suite. It was bare and spotless, but you still mopped the floors and washed her bedding. It was your last room of the day, and you were eager to get home and enjoy your weekend.
Your boss's name was Ian, and he was the only reason why you didn't like your job. He was creepy, and it only seemed to be towards you. He was kind and reasonable to all of your other coworkers, and that is the reason why you felt like you couldn't mention anything about it to anyone. You had assumed him hitting you was truly a one-time thing.
You rolled your cleaning cart back to its place in the storage room, noticing you were the last one to do so. It would seem like all of your coworkers had left for the evening.
You didn't even hear Ian enter the room, or maybe he had been there right from the start, waiting.
You gasped as you turned right into him.
"You startled me," you said, stepping back to widen the space between you. The words reminded you of your prior interaction with Steve, but this certainly was not the same feeling.
"I'm getting ready to clock out for the evening. Is there anything else you need from me?"
"Are you offering?" he asked, his lips quirking up into a slimy smile.
You immediately knew something was off. You had a sinking feeling-a horrible sensation that sent shivers throughout your entire body. You realized you were in danger, serious danger, as no one was around to come to your rescue.
You brushed off his comment, moving around him, but he stopped you with his arm. His fingers tightened against your shoulder.
"What are you doing?" you asked, trying to pull away from his grip.
"You know, there is not a single camera in this room," he said.
You squirmed, but he used his other arm to hold you in place. You couldn't move against his grip, so you used your voice, screaming as loud as you possibly could until he used his hand to muffle your mouth. He pulled his hand away for just a brief moment to strike you with his open palm.
You used one of your legs to kick, but he moved out of the way. Your heart was pounding violently in your chest. You could feel each distinct thump that jolted everything in you.
"You're so feisty," he chuckled. He didn't even seem fazed by your efforts to get away. "You know, people might see you as pretty if you started showing some skin. I can help you with that."
He pushed you roughly against the nearest wall, using the hand over your mouth to knock your head back against the solid structure. Your vision darkened from the violent motion, and he used that to his advantage as he started pulling at your clothes.
You felt the hopelessness right then as it became more exhausting to fight against him. You were no match for him and his strength.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Steve Rogers asked, entering the room.
"We're just having a little fun, man. Get out of here," Ian said.
Steve reached you in no time. He shoved Ian off of you.
"Fun?" Steve asked. "You think this is fun?"
Ian moved to punch Steve, but he was no match for the Captain, who caught Ian's fist and twisted his arm back until Ian yelled out in pain.
Steve landed a solid punch to Ian's jaw, knocking him out cold.
Steve finally turned to you.
"Hey," Steve whispered, crouching down next to where you had slid to the floor. "Are you hurt?"
You shook your head no, feeling the tears that you had been suppressing work their way to the surface.
You tried to muffle your sob with your hand.
"It's okay," Steve said. He pulled off his jacket, carefully wrapping it around you to cover the places where your clothes had been torn. The warmth was comforting, but it didn't ease the danger you still felt.
Ian stirred on the ground, and the fear in your body came back full force. You whimpered, reaching for Steve, who allowed you to wrap around him.
"Let me take care of him, okay?" he asked, pushing your hair away from your face gently. "Can I take you to my room for a moment? I'll get you home after."
You nodded because there wasn't much else you could do. Your mind was a muddled mess.
Steve scooped you up off the ground, and you tucked into him. You knew you were safe with him.
"I'll be right back," he promised, setting you on his couch in his suite. You watched him leave.
A lot of the feelings surfaced without his presence. You couldn't believe what just happened to you- what could have happened if Steve hadn't been there. Every inch of you felt disgusting, and it was as if you could feel tiny bugs crawling along your skin.
You had the urge to scrub yourself down, every single inch, to rid of Ian's disgusting touch.
"He's going to come back," you sobbed to Steve as soon as he walked through his door.
"He will not. You will never see him again," he promised.
"He's going to come back and finish the job," you insisted hysterically. "I can feel him all over me."
You pulled at your clothes, scraping your nails against your skin, until Steve took your hands to stop you.
"Don't do that," he whispered, taking your hands. "How about a shower and a change of clothes instead?"
The steady stream of Steve's shower eased you at first, but it also grounded you. It made you realize just how real this situation was, and it was not some nightmare you were going to wake up from.
You scrubbed your skin until it was pink, and then you broke down again, letting the sound of the water cover your painful cries.
Steve's knocking on the bathroom door interrupted you. You heard him open the door, but you didn't feel fear, not with him.
"I'm just going to set some clothes on the counter for you when you get out," Steve said. "Let me know if you need anything else."
The tears didn't come back, just an absolute exhaustion that covered every part of your body.
It was Steve's clothes in the pile he had set out for you. It was a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and despite them being oversized, you settled into the comfort.
Steve was sitting on the couch, reading a book, when you found him. He reached for you, and you went to him, curling up next to him. He covered you in a warm blanket.
"It's okay," Steve soothed. "You're okay here."
He repeated gentle words until your heavy eyes fluttered shut.
---
You woke up in Steve's bed. The room was dark, and you squinted at the clock only to discover that it was now nighttime.
You rubbed your eyes that ached from crying. You shuffled out of the bedroom to find Steve.
He was cooking something at the stove. It smelled amazing, and your neglected stomach rumbled.
"Hey," he greeted, his stern features brightening.
"Hi," you said back. You twisted your hands together a bit. "I never said thank you for today. All of this. I'm really glad you were there."
"Me too," Steve said, stepping closer. "I'm just sorry that I didn't do a damn thing about it when I saw that bruise. It was from him, wasn't it?"
You nodded.
"You should've told me. I would've taken care of him immediately," he said, reaching out to cup your face. "It's over now. You're safe."
His words were soft, and you wondered if he was trying to convince himself more than you.
Steve's lips brushed across your forehead before he backed away. Your heart fluttered.
"I'm not much of a cook, but I do know a few things," he said. He plated the pasta dish, gesturing you over to his small table.
You didn't think you would be able to eat. Your stomach was still completely knotted up, but the food smelled amazing.
Eating settled you. It was a normal task, and a comforting meal. You felt a little bit better.
"I'm still worried," you admitted after a moment, finding Steve's familiar gaze.
"I know," Steve said, taking your hand. "Do you want to stay here tonight?"
You nodded.
Steve took your dishes to the sink.
"How about a movie?" he asked, pulling a package of Oreos from the cabinet.
You couldn't deny the the smile you felt lift your features.
"Oreos?" you asked.
"Don't tell Natasha, but I took them from her room. If you ever need snacks, she probably has everything you could imagine in there," Steve said, his own features brightening.
He came over to you, brushing the hair away from your face.
"There's that smile," he cooed, letting his cheek brush against yours. The gentle affection immediately had you feeling giddy, and you welcomed the feelings.
You moved to the couch for a movie, staying close to Steve and under that same comforting blanket. You believed him now. Everything was going to be okay.
-----AN----
Hi friends! This was just something I had circling around in my head. Let me know what you think.
You and Bucky seem to be living very separate lives, and finding time for each other has become more difficult.
---
You glanced at your phone, surprised to see an incoming call from your boyfriend, Bucky. It wasn't often that he called. It was usually you who called him.
"Hey, baby," his smooth voice greeted. It was familiar and warm, and made your heart thud painfully in your chest. You missed him so much.
You pushed yourself upright from where you were lying down on the couch in your apartment. You gripped your favorite blanket between your fingers, finding comfort in the soft fabric.
"Hi," you said back. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," he said. "What time is it there? I always lose track. I didn't want to call too late."
"It is late," you confirmed, pulling your phone away from your ear. You squinted at the bright display, finding it to be just after eleven. "Where are you at?"
"I'm working out in California right now," he answered. "I just got back in from Germany."
"Germany?" You had no idea that he was even out of the country. You felt the pressure of tears behind your eyes that you tried to keep at bay. You were exhausted of this.
You had met Bucky by accident when he was working with Sam Wilson in Washington, D.C. You had instantly clicked. At the time, it was really good because he was doing work there that had lasted several months.
But then he started traveling again. You both had promised to make the effort to keep your relationship going, but lately all of it felt so one-sided. You didn't know him anymore, and you felt like you were hanging on to something that no longer existed.
It was quiet on the phone. You struggled with what to say next.
"I can't keep going like this, Buck," you said softly. You couldn't keep the tears back any longer, letting them stream down your cheeks. Your chest ached, and you pulled the phone away from your ear so you could muffle your sob with the blanket. "Do you even love me anymore?"
Bucky said your name firmly, like he was scolding you for even doubting his feelings for you.
"I'm sorry that it's been like this," he said. "But I can't -"
"You can't or you won't?" you asked, drying your damp face with the palm of your hand. You sniffled.
"I just wished that I was important enough to you," you added in a whisper. You wondered if he even heard that part. "You travel to all of these places, and you can't travel here to see me. I've even offered to come to you."
"It's for my job," Bucky said. "And you know it's dangerous. I would never put you at risk because of me."
You nodded even though he couldn't see you. You had talked about this before, and his answer was still the same.
He could've made the effort, though. He could have flown to Germany out of DC so you could see him, even if it was only for a brief moment.
"Fine," you agreed. You realized he had never answered your question. Did he even love you anymore? Maybe he didn't.
The fact that he hadn't reassured you caused a deep, painful ache in your chest so profound that you found yourself struggling to take in a deep enough breath.
"Fine?" he repeated, sounding surprised that you had even agreed with him after all of that.
"Of course it's not fine, Bucky," you sighed. "but I do respect the fact that you don't want to see me, or talk to me, or even love me anymore. It was bound to happen with all of this distance between us."
You continued, saying the part that you dreaded the most. "I don't think we should keep going like this. We can't. I can't."
You disconnected the call, tossing your phone somewhere on the couch. You buried your head in your hands, letting out all of the pain and sadness you had been holding in.
You didn't expect this to hurt so badly. You were the one who broke up with him, but that didn't mean you didn't love him. You loved him deeply.
You ended up crying yourself to sleep on your couch.
---
The sun starting to peek through your blinds woke you up. It was really early - just about six thirty. You yawned, feeling the stickiness of your face. You hated the feeling, the reminder.
You folded your blanket, walking towards your bedroom. It was Saturday, so you didn't have anywhere to be, but you were stiff from sleeping on your couch all night.
You managed to wash your face, pulling the blankets back on your neatly made bed so you could crawl in and sleep a bit more.
You heard your front door opening, which startled you. The only other person who had a key was Bucky, and he was all the way across the country.
You shuffled hesitantly out of your room and towards the noise, surprised to see that it was, in fact, Bucky.
"Do I still love you?" he asked, repeating the question that you had asked him on the phone. He dropped his bag, heading straight for you and you froze. "What the hell do you mean?"
His sassy, rhetorical question almost made you laugh, despite everything.
He cupped your cheeks, firmly planting his lips on yours, and it felt so good, so familiar. You gripped his jacket for support as he didn't let up.
"Buck," you murmured despite his persistent kisses. "What are you doing here? You said you were in California."
"I caught a flight," he said, running his thumb along your cheek. "I love you with everything in me, baby. If you were missing me, you just had to say the word, and I would be here in an instant."
He gave you another peck, his lips following a path down your cheek to your neck.
"I can't read your mind. I'm not very good at this. I told you that, remember?" His warm drawl settled over you, comforting you. You stepped forward to press against his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his back.
"Maybe I was distancing myself," he admitted. "Every time I talked to you, it reminded me of how desperately I wanted to come home."
"Me too," you whispered.
"But I can fix it," he promised. "I will fix it. I'll make sure I leave time to come here between my jobs, and I will keep you in the loop about where I'm going to be from now on."
You nodded. You believed him because you wanted this to work.
"I'm just sorry that I didn't do any of this before," he added, this time much softer. He ran his hand firmly down your back, soothing all of the ache you had been feeling.
"I could have told you how I was feeling sooner, rather than just accusing," you said.
He cupped your cheeks again.
"You're not taking the blame for this one, pretty girl," he cooed. "This one's on me."
"Can you stay?" you asked, leaning up for a kiss. "You must be exhausted."
He nodded. "I have a few days. We have a lot of making up to do, baby."
He lifted you up effortlessly and you giggled as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You were happy that he was home, and you could see things actually getting better.
--------- Author's Note-------------------
Hi friends 😎 long time no see!
I was in the mood for some angst. If you like this, check out my Masterlist.
-> I make TikTok edits almost daily.
-> I publish short stories with guaranteed Happy Endings on Wattpad.
Join my permanent tags (link in bio) or send me a request :) Figuring out what to write about is the hardest part.
Fluffy AU because Steve can't actually get drunk because of the serum
-Tipsy-
In which Steve gets a little drunk at a party.
---
You and Steve Rogers had gone to a party hosted by none other than Tony Stark. You hated parties and would rather keep what little downtime you had with your boyfriend to yourself, but the billionaire had insisted. Besides, it had been awhile since Steve had a chance to be around his friends without work being involved.
Even Thor had shown up.
You didn't drink much, just stuck to your one glass of something fruity and wandered the large ballroom to find someone to talk to.
You were grabbed from behind and you gasped, twisting around to find your boyfriend's broody features to be brighter than usual. His lips quirked up as he pulled you against his chest.
"Steve," you gasped. "You scared me."
"I'm sorry," his deep voice said over the music. He took your drink, setting it down on the table next to him. "You just look so damn beautiful in this dress."
His hands slid down from your waist. You had to physically move them back up from your butt, which seemed to amuse him.
"You're drunk," you concluded, never seeing him act in such a way.
"I'm not that drunk," he reassured. "I saw you dancing over there. It was very hot."
"Hot?" you asked, feeling a flush run up your neck. Your typical stoic, reserved Captain would never say that. You bit back your amused smile.
"Come on," he teased. "Show me your moves."
You shook your head no.
"Don't get shy on me now, honey," Steve said. He took your hand, twirling you in a circle.
You laughed, and he bent his head to swallow the sound. His lips meshed with yours roughly, and he cupped your cheeks to hold you in place. Heat flooded your body, and you could taste the alcohol on his lips.
You pulled back.
"We're at a party," you protested, trying to get the words out against his persistent kisses.
"So?"
"So," you repeated with another laugh. "So you can't kiss me like that with people around."
He looked like he was going to protest, but someone called his name from behind. Steve straightened. His features defaulted back to their typical stern position, and he wrapped you protectively by his side.
"Tony," Steve greeted.
You were surprised by the quick change. Maybe he really wasn't that drunk.
"It's been a great party," you offered.
"Right, thanks," Tony nodded, throwing back what was left in his glass with one swallow. "Like the whole room didn't see you try to swallow each other just now."
You felt the blush fill your cheeks.
"What do you need?" Steve asked.
"Nothing important," Tony answered. "I just heard a rumour about some strong Asgardian alcohol that has cost me several thousand dollars."
"What do you mean?" Steve's frown didn't change.
"Thor started smashing stuff Hulk-style. He kept throwing his glass, demanding more drinks. I heard that he had shared whatever he had brought with you, and wanted to make sure you weren't about to start destroying the place."
"I'm fine," Steve said.
Tony walked away, and Steve lowered his head to speak close to you. "I just can't wait to get you home."
You giggled, feeling the heat coil throughout your body. You squirmed away from his moving hands. He kissed you again, pulling you flush against him.
"Fine," you give in. "Let's get out of here before you make a scene."
In which you take care of the three boys after they come back to the motel injured.
---
"I call dibs," Dean said as he, Sam, and Castiel entered the motel room. You were sleeping soundly, quite literally an angel.
"You can't," Sam protested. "We take turns. Remember?"
Dean groaned. "Castiel gets way too close."
"Would you please shut up?" you whined, awakened by their talking. You shoved the pillow over your face with a huff.
Sam dropped onto the bed next to you with a grunt of his own. You peeled the pillow away to look at him, to look at all of them and their conditions.
"You can't go to bed like that," you told Sam, eyeing the blood and grime that made you cringe.
"I just need a minute," he said back.
"Those cuts need to be cleaned. Sit up."
You swung your feet off the bed, shivering from the freezing air. You grumbled to yourself as you made your way to your bag for the first aid kit. You got a rag from the bathroom so you could clean away the dirt.
"Take a shower, Dean," you said.
"What?" Dean asked. "Why me?"
"Because then I can clean up Castiel and Sam and then they can shower. You guys are filthy."
Dean obeyed your commands. You yawned, dropping onto the bed.
Castiel came closer, sitting next to you. He cupped your cheek.
"I've always been on my own," he admitted. "The way you care for each of us, it's amazing."
You blushed, reaching for his skin that was blemish free. You still inspected every inch just to be sure, before you turned to Sam.
"I'm sorry that we woke you, honey," Sam said. He lowered his head until his lips brushed yours.
"I'm glad you did," you whispered back. You needed to know that they were safe.
Cas helped you clean Sam up, until Dean got out of the bathroom.
"Sam gets special treatment. I get told to take a shower, that by the way, was freezing." Dean rolled his eyes dramatically, clutching the towel around his waist.
"Let me wrap that cut," you said, reaching for him.
Sam stood up, and Dean took his place. He showed you his forearm and the jagged cut that was quite deep. Your stomach twisted.
"You should put some clothes on, Dean," Castiel said.
Dean ignored him, watching you sit and fret over him. He loved it. He loved the care you gave each of them. He loved you.
---
A/N:
Just a fluffy lil blurb I wrote. I'm only on S4 of SPN so my knowledge on Castiel is quite limited, but I do adore him already.
I have a tag list in my Masterlist. Feel free to comment there if you want tagged for anything else Supernatural I may write.
A lot has changed since you last saw Steve. Forced to be on the run, saving the world, and then being blipped only made things more complicated. Your feelings return full force when you see him standing against Thanos (the final time).
---
You could see the flame in his eye dwindling. It had started when the both of you were forced to be on the run after the Sokovia Accords.
You hadn't seen Steve Rogers for years, but the feelings you had fought so hard against returned full force. Steve was your everything, and would always be your everything, even if he would never know it.
And then Thanos happened the first time. You were dust for most of the second.
The last battle was an enduring one. It took its toll on Steve, the man you had fought alongside for years. He had changed while you were gone, and you had never seen him so low, yet so determined. You were worried about him. You couldn't help it. You found his deep blue eyes immediately, even with all of the people that Strange had gathered, and the dust that had yet to settle.
The battle with Thanos had just finished. You were confused. You had just lost some really close friends, and the world was so different than from what you remembered.
Everyone went their separate ways. You hung back, uncertain of where to go or what to do.
Steve was the one who found you. You couldn't make out what he was saying because your ears were ringing so badly. Your chest was heaving, and the pain of all of the injuries you had pushed aside to keep fighting hit you like a train.
He reached for you, and you caught sight of his badly injured arm. It was definitely broken, and the idea of him being hurt churned your stomach. After that, you aren't sure what happened because everything went black.
----
You came to with a start, hoping it was all just some horrible nightmare. You took in a deep breath that your body rejected. You gasped, struggling to sit upright. You were confused about where you were, what had happened. Everything hurt deeply, and you couldn't breathe.
The light flipped on, momentarily distracting you from the panic you had created. Steve was by your side in an instant.
"You're okay," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're at my place. You're fine."
His hand went to your shoulder, and then to your cheek. He lifted your face to look at him. Your eyes were locked. His thumb stroked gently against your skin. You settled into the warm touch.
"Steve," you whispered, wanting to tell him how you felt. You choked on the words.
He hummed in response, dropping his hand.
You took in his injuries. His injured arm was bandaged tightly. His hair was matted. His lip was busted, and there were so many bruises. You hated seeing him hurt.
"I missed you so much," he finally said. "For five years, I was all alone, truly alone. Even when I was on the run, I knew I could find you. I could find Sam, and Buck. This was different. I didn't know what to do."
Your lip trembled. His eyes caught the movement, and he gave you a half-effort smile. You tried to match it, but you could feel the pressure of tears behind your eyes. You had missed him, too.
"You can cry. It's okay," he whispered.
You moved closer until you could drop your head exhaustedly on his chest. He rubbed your back, and you let all of the tears that you had been suppressing free.
He held you as you cried, and you took a moment to appreciate how good it felt to be close to him after so long.
Dating had never been a possibility before. The job was too complicated, too political. But now... what did it matter? You were so tired of fighting. You just needed some calm now.
You wondered how Steve felt.
When the tears subsided to sniffles, you pulled back.
"Are you hurt?" Steve asked, looking you over.
You glanced down at the cuts and bruises that littered your skin beneath thick layers of dirt and dust.
"Not badly," you said. You were sore, and you could tell some muscles had been overused. "But you are."
You reached for his injured arm, inspecting his bandage.
"I don't think it's broken," he admitted. "But strapping my dirty shield to the open wound probably wasn't the best thing for it."
You looked up, finding his eyes once more.
"You should get your cuts cleaned up," he said. "Can you stand?"
He stood first, offering you his hands. You were thankful for his grip as your legs wobbled unsteadily underneath you. It took a moment for them to stabilize.
You were so close to Steve. You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the proximity, at his familiar smell. You wanted him to say something, anything to give you a glimpse into his feelings.
"Shower's across the hall," he said, dropping your hands gently. "There should be a first aid kit in there if you need it."
He backed off, going into his closet. He came back with a t-shirt and sweatpants. He offered them over. "It's the best I can do."
You could feel your heart pick up speed at the pure kindness. There was no better way to describe Steve Rogers. He was as kind and selfless as they come.
"Thank you," you said softly.
Steve nodded.
You took your time in the shower, scrubbing every inch of your skin. Your wounds burned under the spray of the water, but you relished in the pain. It felt good to feel, to be alive. You were thankful for having nothing but minor injuries, but you couldn't help but wonder what was left for you.
Now, you had no home. You had nothing left to your name. You had been erased from the world's memory.
Nothing was bleeding, but you could feel some scabs reopening as you moved in and out of the shower. You had a deep cut on your side that you wrapped. Your feet and hands were torn up. There was a bad scrape on your bicep. You had a dark bruise forming under your eye, and several others all over. Your ribs were the worst. They protested every movement, and they were slowly turning a sickish color that turned your stomach. You could feel a crack or two on the left side.
You put on Steve's clothes. His smell comforted you.
He had worked fast, and had already changed the bed sheets. He was nowhere to be found in the small house.
You took a seat on his couch, waiting for him to return from wherever he went.
You slowly slid down, falling asleep once again.
---
You were covered in a heavy blanket that was beyond comforting. Something smelled amazing, and your eyes opened. You sat up, finding Steve in the kitchen. He was cooking, and you smiled at the normality of it all.
"Hey," he greeted. "I'm making lunch."
He turned off the faucet, coming to sit next to you.
"Is that where you went?" you asked curiously.
He nodded. "I haven't been here in awhile. With work, it was easier to be closer to everyone else.”
You nodded like you understood, and you did. Work had always been your priority before.
"Steve," you whispered, trying again.
He hummed, taking your hands.
"I missed you more than you will ever know," you said, keeping your voice soft. You sighed. "I'm tired of fighting this."
He kissed your closed hand with a gentle smile forming. The smile was genuine, and having the little light back on his solemn features eased you greatly.
"Good," he said. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again."
He looked like he was going to say something else, but the timer in the kitchen beeped.
You followed him into the kitchen, glancing into the oven over his shoulder. It smelled amazing, and your neglected stomach rumbled.
"I didn't know you cooked," you said.
Steve shrugged, setting another timer, before turning around.
You moved closer to him until he got the hint. You tucked into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you.
He pressed his lips to your forehead.
"It feels so good to finally hold you," he admitted. "I'm so glad you are okay."
"I'm glad that you're okay," you said back, muffled by his shirt. "I'm glad you didn't do anything stupid while I was gone."
He finally chuckled. "Not without you."
You looked up at him to find him already looking down at you. You were tempted to say the three words on the tip of your tongue, but you were unsure of his reaction.
Words didn't need to be expressed as he finally bent his head down to kiss you. You relaxed, and for the first time all day, you were exactly where you belonged.
I've been obsessed with Taylor Swift's song Willow lately. It's a song about fate tying two people together, or slowly falling in love. I thought it was very fitting for this.
I also feel like this works as a prequel for my other Steve Imagine: Protective.
Telling Chris you're pregnant doesn't go how either of you plan.
------
You were a nervous wreck, anxiously waiting for your husband, Chris Evans, to get done with his meeting in the upstairs office. You were sitting on your couch, the softest blanket pulled up to your chin. You started to doze.
Movement in the room woke you up, and you blinked, trying to come to your surroundings. You had slid on the couch until you were laying down, using the arm rest as a pillow.
Chris was in the kitchen. He grinned when he saw you were awake. He came closer.
"Hi, baby," he whispered, smoothing the hair out of your face. "Did you have a good nap?"
You nodded, that anxious knot never uncoiling in your stomach.
"How was your meeting?" you asked.
"Good," Chris confirmed with a nod. "I fly out for that shoot on Monday. It's going to be a busy few months."
Your lip wobbled unsteadily. You could feel each distinct thump of your heartbeat as it threatened to break out of your chest.
"What is it?" he asked, cupping your cheeks. "Something is bothering you. Was it your doctor's appointment today? I know they make you anxious. What did they say about you being nauseous?"
He picked up your arm, inspecting the bandage that was still wrapped from where the doctor had drawn blood.
"I'm pregnant," you blurted.
Chris froze.
"What?"
"That's why I've been so sick," you said. "They did blood work doing my appointment. I'm probably four weeks along."
Chris had a deep frown that creased his handsome features. You wished he would say something to ease the feelings of uncertainty that coursed through you.
"Did you know before you went today?"
You felt the knot in your throat, followed by the pressure of tears behind your eyes. You had wanted him to be excited, to comfort you during the uncertainty.
"I mean, my period has been late, but there are a lot of reasons why that could happen. I just thought I had a bug."
Chris nodded slowly.
"Please say something," you whispered. The tears you had been holding back dripped onto your cheeks.
"It's a lot," he mumbled. "We were just starting to build our lives together. And my job. My job isn't suited for me to be a father."
He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair.
"I'm going to be leaving for this movie shoot. I leave in five days Some of the scenes will have me out of the country." Chris sighed. He didn't see how this was going to work.
You inhaled shakily, smearing the tears with the back of your hand.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out.
"It's work. One of my meetings got moved up. We'll finish this conversation later." He watched you for another moment, but when he realized you had nothing else to say, he left.
You sobbed. This had to be your worst nightmare coming to life. You wanted him to be excited, to shower you with affection. Instead, he had just walked away.
---
Chris didn't come to bed that night, and he wasn't back in the morning, either. You got tired of waiting around. You needed fresh air and comfort.
You were hurt that he chose to walk away without resolving anything. You didn't have any energy left after not sleeping, not to mention you felt nauseous beyond belief.
Your mom's house was just outside of the city. She was surprised to see you when she opened the door.
"I didn't expect to see you here," she said, smiling that familiar smile. Most of the turmoil you had been facing eased at her presence.
She reached for you, wrapping you up in a tight squeeze.
She pulled back to look you over.
"What's wrong? Do you feel okay?" she asked. She could read you like a book.
You didn't feel like getting into it yet.
You shook your head. "I haven't been sleeping real well lately. It's nothing to be worried about, it's just-"
"It's life," she finished for you. She gave you a gentle smile. "I just cleaned and made the bed upstairs. Why don't you lay down for a little while? Are you in a rush to get back? We could do dinner tonight."
"That sounds great," you agreed.
She ushered you in, and you relaxed at the smell of your mom's home. You went up to the spare bedroom.
It was quiet. For a moment, you forgot everything that had happened.
You flipped on the TV. The soft talking soothed you as you got into bed. Your heavy heart and heavy head were weighing on you, and you fell asleep almost immediately.
You were just waking up when you heard someone walking up the stairs.
Your mom knocked, poking her head in before entering fully.
"Do you want to tell me why I just had to cover for you?" she asked, sitting on the bed next to you.
"What?" you asked, pushing yourself upright.
"Chris called me. He was looking for you. What's going on?"
You felt the familiar ache in your throat as tears burned your eyes.
"Oh, honey," your mom whispered. "Please don't cry. It'll be okay, whatever it is."
"I'm pregnant," you sobbed, dropping your head.
Your mom soothingly rubbed your back. "I can't imagine how you feel right now.
You explained everything. How nervous you were to tell him. How he didn't say anything. How he left.
You continue to cry, the deep painful wound you had been suppressing finally opening.
Your mom held you as you sobbed. Your throat ached, and you struggled to get enough air into your lungs.
"If you've never talked about kids, I can see how he feels. He's just as scared as you and doesn't know how to express it. That does not justify his actions in any case, but-"
She dried your tears with her sleeve.
"Why don't you call him? Tell him you decided to spend the night with me since you don't feel good, and that you'll go home tomorrow."
You nodded.
"And then I will make us some dinner. Okay?"
"I've been so nauseous," you admitted, sucking in a shaky breath. "Everything makes my stomach turn."
"I know just the thing," your mom smiled.
You sent Chris a text, ignoring the few he had sent you while you had napped. You told him you didn't feel very well so you were going to crash with your mom for the night. You turned off your phone, setting it on the nightstand.
You ended up piled on the couch with lots of blankets, ginger ale and chicken noodle soup. Your mom even made grilled cheese, and you were hungry enough that the nausea had disappeared for a while.
Your mom chattered your ear off about everything baby, and for the first time, you felt a little excited about being pregnant.
---
You stepped into your apartment the next day. You felt better, a little more clear-headed. You could hear Chris in the kitchen, and your heart started to pick up speed.
You hung up your coat and purse, before hesitantly walking towards him.
"Hi," you whispered.
"Hey," he said back. You found his expression to be unreadable.
You shifted a bit, before deciding to put away your stuff in the bedroom, giving you both the space you needed to come up with something to say.
You put all of your dirty clothes in the hamper before carrying it downstairs to the laundry room.
You were sorting, when you were startled.
"I made us some lunch," he said.
"Okay," you nodded. You started the washer, and followed him to the kitchen.
Chris had made a big meal, chicken with pasta.
"Thank you," you said when he served you a plate. You chose to sit on the stool against the large island, and he joins you.
You were hungry today, and the meal was satisfying despite the little bit of awkward silence.
"I'm sorry," he says finally.
"I was so nervous to tell you," you admitted. "But then I thought, Chris loves me unconditionally and would be excited to share this new chapter with me."
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't ever doubt my love for you."
"I get that you're unhappy, but you left me. You shut me out. I don't even know where you went, and I needed you."
You stood with your plate, placing it in the sink. You took in a shaky breath. You were so tired of crying, but the familiar feeling hit you full force.
"I'm sorry for leaving you when you needed me most. I should've been there for you, and I didn't mean to add to your fear. I just - I got scared. I am scared."
"You don't think I'm scared?" you sobbed, smearing your quickly falling tears with your hands.
He came over to you, finally. He wrapped you tightly in his arms, and you didn't protest. You gripped his t-shirt with your fists.
"I was so fucking worried when you left," he whispered, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Me too," you mumbled into his chest.
"This changes everything. I don't want to leave you for months on end, not when you're like this. I don't want to miss a single moment, and I don't know what to do."
You look up at him. He dried your tears with the pads of his thumbs. His touch was warm and comforting. You nuzzled against his hand.
"I'm going to cut back," Chris said. "I'll renegotiate some of my contracts, but my priority is you and our baby."
When he says our baby for the first time, you couldn't help but give a laugh of disbelief. He pulls you in close, a handsome smile of his own tugging at his lips. He kisses your forehead.
"I know you probably think I'm just saying this, but I'm really excited to have this baby with you."
You smiled, finding his pretty blue eyes. "Yeah?"
He confirmed with a nod, pressing his lips to yours. "Yeah. Excited, and scared shitless, but we'll make it work. We always do."
In which a certain biker wants the attention of a shy baker
-----
The bell over the door jingled, and you looked up from where you were wiping down the counter. The men that had entered was not what you were expecting in your very floral pink bakery. Their black leather stood out against the soft pastels.
The tall blonde was the one that came to the cash register.
"Can we get three coffees, please?" His politeness surprised you, so did his dimples. You ducked your head to hide the inevitable heat that rushed up your neck.
"Okay," you said softly. "Cream or sugar?"
"Neither." He shook his head. "How about some of those chocolate chip cookies as well?"
"Sure."
You turned away to pour the drinks. Your gaze was drawn to one of the other men who had taken a seat by the door. He had brown hair, and seemed incredibly unamused by whatever the third man was talking so animatedly about. He caught your eye, and you turned away.
You packaged the cookies, and took the blonde's card for payment.
He thanked you, and soon the trio was gone, followed by the gentle rumble of their motorcycles taking off down the street.
----
You wished you could say you had forgotten the encounter, but that wasn't true. The surly brown haired man had been locked firmly into your memory, and you didn't have any idea why.
On a particularly slow day, you were alerted to the familiar sound of a bike, and in walked the person who had yet to leave your mind.
"Hi," you greeted. "What can I get started for you?"
"How about the lunch special with a cup of coffee?" he asked.
"Okay." You tried really hard not to mumble under the gaze of his beautiful gray eyes. "What kind of bread did you want for that sandwich?"
"You pick," he responded, offering over his card.
Your fingers brushed against his as you accepted it. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.
"I'll bring it right out," you whispered.
He thanked you, and you turned away to start on his food.
Your brain was a scrambled mess. Your hands were shaking, and you felt like you could feel his stare, except he was seated away from you near the window.
As the panini toasted, you took him his coffee. He had shed his leather jacket to reveal a tight-fitting long sleeve t-shirt that accentuated his bulky arms and broad chest.
"Here's your coffee..." you trailed off.
"Bucky," he said, his lips quirking up.
"Bucky." You repeated his name gently, locked in his magnetic gaze. You introduced yourself back, and you were frozen for a second until the panini press beeped, reminding you of where you were.
You blushed, moving away from him. Bucky. It was a nice name.
"Do you have a minute?" he asked when you brought over his plate. He gestured to the seat in front of him.
You stumbled over an answer. "I've got - I have cupcakes baking in the back."
He nodded, turning to his food.
----
Bucky quickly became a regular, and so did your ability to turn into a blundering mess.
"Which dessert is your favorite?" he asked a few days later.
"Our cinnamon rolls are a big seller-"
"Come on," he teased. "I said your favorite, not everyone else's."
You bit back a bit of a little smile. "Vanilla cupcakes."
He nodded, "I'll take one of those, and a cup of coffee. To-Go, today, please."
You were a bit disappointed that he wasn't sticking around. You considered the possibility that he was tired of you telling him no when he asked you to sit with him because he asked every time, except if you were busy. It's not that you didn't want to, it's just - what would someone like him want with someone like you?
Your train of thoughts turned your mood sour, and the day dragged on. You desperately wanted to go home and feel sorry for yourself and the great thing you probably messed up.
You had just locked the doors for the evening when a familiar bike pulled up.
He waved through the glass and you let him in. He had a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and the same vanilla cupcake he had bought from you earlier.
"These are for you," he said, handing them over. "I was hoping that you would come to dinner with me."
You were relieved to finally have the chance to get to know him.
"I'd love to," you murmured, feeling flushed and giddy. "Just let me finish up here."
It didn't take long, and soon you were locking the doors up behind you, with a certain handsome yet stoic man watching your every move.
He walked to his bike, and you faltered.
"You expect me to get on that thing?"
He smirked a bit, teasing. "Come on, cupcake. I brought you your very own helmet."
The nickname was corny, but it didn't stop the butterflies from fluttering around, wrecking havoc in your stomach.
"I promise to keep you safe." He said the words so sincerely, so honestly, that you couldn't help but give in.
He got on first, offering over the bulky helmet and his leather jacket that you pulled on. He helped you clamber on behind him, pressed intimately against his back. You struggled to breathe at the proximity.
"Hold on tight," he yelled over the engine. You wrapped your arms around his front, and soon you were speeding off down the street.
in which two super soldiers don't know anything about personal space.
-----
Your relationship with Steve Rogers was fairly new when you met Bucky Barnes. You knew the pair had a deep connection, but you never would have imagined the same would apply to you.
And so, you seemed to gain two large shadows. If one wasn't around, the other certainly was. They seemed to always have a strong urge to be near in case something happened.
You were reading a book on your couch when Steve dropped down next to you, so close that he nearly squished you.
"Steve," you protested, trying to wiggle your arm free from against his so you could flip your page.
"What, honey?" he asked. You looked up to his oceanic eyes and dirty blonde hair, and you didn't have the heart to tell him to scoot over. You really didn't want him to anyway.
Instead, you lifted the end of your blanket, placing it on his lap. It didn't cover much of his massive legs, but it was nice to share all the same.
You could hear your front door open. Bucky and Steve both had a key to your place, and you were eager to see your grumpy man who had been away for a few days.
"Buck," you smiled, going to him happily. "Missed you."
He reached for you, pulling you to his broad chest. His flesh hand ran the length of your back soothingly.
"Missed you more, sunshine," he said back, his stern features brightening momentarily. "Were you good for Steve?"
You gave an eager nod, and he leaned down to catch your lips with his.
"She's always good," Steve affirmed, stepping up behind Buck and giving his shoulder a pat. "It's good to see you, Buck."
"I'm happy to be home," he said, straightening up. You stayed close to his chest, listening to the simple thump of his heartbeat.
You looked up at Bucky. "Can we get takeout for dinner?"
"That sounds good," he agreed, brushing the stray pieces of hair away from your face.
"We'll let Buck get settled and then we will order," Steve said, coaxing you back to the couch.
You sat back in your spot, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you tucked your legs close.
Steve watched you for a second, before he reached over, lifting you up with ease. He placed you in his lap, keeping the blanket around your shoulders. You giggled, settling happily against him. You had grown to adore being close to them.
He flipped on the TV. He knew you liked the cooking competition shows, and that's exactly what he put on.
It didn't take long for Bucky to come back freshly showered. He sat down next to you, and you picked up his right hand, noticing the cuts and bruises around his knuckles. The sleeve on his black t-shirt rose up, and you noticed a bandage.
You sat up, inspecting it closer. It was fresh, he must've just changed it, but it was turning red with blood.
"It's fine," he said. "Doesn't even hurt."
You poked it and he grimaced. Steve gave a gentle chuckle.
"You don't have to lie," you said. "Did you clean it?"
"I did, baby," Bucky nodded. "Must've reopened when I was moving around in the shower."
You huffed. You didn't like to see them hurt, and it always seemed to happen when they went out.
"I think you should never leave again," you concluded.
Steve nuzzled your cheek, and you grinned at the ticklish feeling.
"Yeah?" Steve asked. You felt his smile as his lips grazed the corner of your mouth.
"I think she's onto something, Steve," Bucky said, his own lips turning up as he gave you a kiss when Steve moved back. It felt really good to be so close to both of them, finally.
"Yeah, and then we can be together all day," you confirmed, pulling away from Bucky's lips to capture Steve's.
------
Author's Note:
As requested. Feels good to write a little fluffy Marvel again.
Wanda's fingers were rough and fast inside of you. They wouldn't slow down, forcing you to that edge over and over again.
"Please," you cried, pulling your face away from between Nat's legs. "I can't take anymore."
Nat dragged you back. "No one told you to stop," she scolded.
"You will keep going," Wanda said to you. She curled her fingers and you released an uncontrollable yell. "Until you make Natasha cum."
• Clint x Reader (Avengers Voyeurism)
You knew the days of you getting by with teasing Clint were limited, but you never expected him to drag Natasha into it.
Actually, that sounded exactly like something he would do. He knew Nat loved to torture you, and what Nat loved was bringing everyone in to watch.
She held your arms immobile as Clint fucked you hard and slow.
You moaned, throwing your head back on Nat's shoulder.
"Are you going to cum in front of everyone?" she asked. She used her other hand to gather your sweaty hair from the nape of your neck.
"That's right," Clint grunted, his thrusts increasing pace. You could feel your body tense, unintentionally clenching on him. He let out a shaky breath. "Show the team how much you love for them to watch you."
Tony x Reader (Cockwarming)
"I can't," you whined. Your insides felt like liquid and you were quite literally dripping onto the floor. You were so full.
"Thought you said you wanted to help, Doc," Tony said, seemingly unfazed despite being buried deep inside of you. "I haven't been able to sit this still in forever."
You squirmed, desperately trying to lift your hips for some kind of friction, but he held you still.
The compound was silent aside from the sitcom you had playing on the TV. You sat on the couch with your dinner. There was a heaviness you felt pressing on your chest; the anxiety of not knowing what was going on, and the potential for the people you loved to be in danger.
It had been three weeks since you had seen the Avengers. There was an occasional text. Steve and Clint even called once or twice.
You had tried to distract yourself by tying up all of the loose ends with your business venture. It was going to be a nonprofit, but that created a whole variety of hoops to jump through. You could finally see the end in sight.
And just like any other night, you switched off the TV and dragged your blanket over your shoulders. Tonight, you were going to sleep in Steve's room. You were happy that each of their bedrooms were open because you were able to rotate depending on who you missed the most.
You missed all of them, deeply. Painfully.
----
A few days later you were making breakfast after a run on the treadmill. It was really early, but you struggled to sleep. Every bump and creak of the night made you feel isolated and bothered, even in the secure space.
You had stayed away from the news, but it was inevitable. Los Angeles had been attacked, just like Tony had said they would. While that was awful, the group had been captured. Selfishly, you hoped that meant your Avengers would be home soon.
It was only moments later when you heard the door open.
"We thought you would be asleep," Steve said. He was still in his uniform, once a bright blue now gray. His normally unruly hair was matted to his head. He had a cut next to his lip, and the fabric of his suit was torn and stained a deep brown that only came with dried blood.
"I'm fine, honey," he consoled, seeing the way you were looking at him. "I just came straight here because I needed to see you. I didn't have a chance to get cleaned up."
You felt a rise of emotion, an overwhelming sense of relief that hit you like a freight train.
You sobbed, muffling the sound with your palm.
"What did you do to her, Steve?" Bucky accused. You didn't even notice him come in.
He dropped his bag. He wrapped his arms tight around you, pulling you to his chest. One of his hands stroked your back and the other cradled your head. You clutch his t-shirt with your fists, continuing to cry as his familiar touch and smell surround you.
"Don't cry," he whispered. "We're not going anywhere."
"I missed you so much," you said.
"We missed you more than you will ever know," Steve said, stepping up behind you. You turned, wrapping your arms around him instead.
"There she is," Sam smiled. He held open his arms and you moved from Steve to him. "Look at you. You're looking good, baby."
Your smile was automatic at his cheerfulness. You smeared some of your tears with your palm.
Sam gave you a gentle kiss.
"Where are the others?" you asked, looking at Steve.
"They're coming," he answered. "They had to stop in DC to wrap everything up."
"They're okay?"
"Everybody is okay," Sam confirmed. That was such a relief. You had been so worried.
"Why don't we get cleaned up, and then you can tell us what you've been up to?" Steve suggested. He gestured you back over to him, mashing his lips to yours when you were in reach.
"Okay," you nodded, breathlessly. He kissed your forehead. You smiled, completely happy that they were home. "I'll make you guys some breakfast."
You made a huge breakfast, and it was a good thing you did because the rest of your Avengers came through the door.
Wanda was the first to you. She wrapped around you tightly, and you placed your face in her neck.
She whispered your name, and you realized how desperate you had been to hear her voice.
"I'm so proud of you," you told her. "I knew you could do it."
She gave you a squeeze.
"I don't think we could have done it without Wanda," Nat said. She stepped up behind you, skimming her hand along your back. "This little witch cleared civilians faster than any of us could have on our own. She really saved so many lives."
You could see the change in Wanda, almost like her rain cloud that hung over her had moved away. She seemed ragged and worn down from the battle she just faced, but she needed the chance to prove to herself that she could do it. She needed to get back out in the world.
"It smells so good in here," Clint said, stuffing a piece of bacon in his mouth.
"There's a lot of food. I knew you all would be hungry."
Nat smirked, cupping your cheeks with her hands. She leaned close. "Just a little bit," she teased, brushing her lips with yours as she spoke.
Tony was the last one in, and you went straight to him.
"I knew you couldn't resist," he teased. "I'm like a drug. It's inevitable-"
"Shut up," you told him, placing your head on his chest. His arms secured you tight.
He didn't let you step away. Instead, he took your chin, inspecting your face. His thumb skimmed gently under your eye.
"Dreaming of me, sweetheart?" he asked, and while his teasing said otherwise, you could tell he was worried.
"I missed you," you whispered, feeling your lip wobble. You swallowed down the emotion, exhausted from it.
"I missed you, too," he said, softer. He bent his head to catch your lips.
It only took a few more minutes for everyone to be gathered around the table eating breakfast.
You found your eyes going to that one barstool that you sat at on your first day at the compound so long ago, the day everything started. If only you could see where you ended up. You would have never expected to be more than the Avengers' Therapist.
