❝ my heart’s been
bruised, beaten, and broken.
it’s been ripped out
and smashed into a
t h o u s a n d p i e c e s.
but you know what?
i gathered up those pieces
and i put them back together,
and my bruised, beaten, broken heart…
…keeps right on beating. ❞
Being recognized as the person who had broken into and stolen from this very place a year ago should probably be a bad thing–but the woman seemed more amused than angry. Scott would file that away under things that have hurt his ego during the past week. “–Yeah. That was me, but the whole thing was a big misunderstanding. I even sent a fruit basket! Did you guys ever get the fruit basket?”
“I’m really trying to play the good-guy game here, so if we could play it cool and give me a chance to explain I could clear all this up in like two minutes.” Scott’s hands were still up in surrender, but he very slowly raised them watching Etta’s face to make sure they were on the same page.
“……But just to be clear, Falcon isn’t here, right?”
As long as she was still under the assumption he had his ant-man powers, maybe she would shy away from picking a fight. He probably shouldn’t push his luck though, just to be safe. “Okay so yeah I broke in last year, right? I stole something–but I really really needed it! To stop this a-hole from selling super-suit technology to some neo-nazi organization. Or something. I think that was the gist of it. –Oh and he got my friend shot and I almost blew up.” Scott paused.
“–You know what I got a little off track there. The point is I stole something, but this time I came to bring it back. And I didn’t want to run into Falcon……or Stark. Because apparently there were some hard feelings between Papa Stark and my pal Pym.”
God this guy talked a lot.
“It was a misunderstanding that you broke into private property and then proceeded to put up a fight when Sam tried to detain you?” Etta asked Scott, an eyebrow arched. She’d heard the other side of the story many times before. Sam would never talk about it around Steve, of course, but she remembered when he came into the compound soon after, grumbling about it.
She’d laughed for hours.
“Dunno, I’ll have to check our fruit basket history to see if we ever got yours.” Etta commented idly, her arms still crossed as she watched Scott lower his hands. She didn’t move from her spot as he continued talking— though part of her wondered if he was like one of those wind-up toys. Just keeps going until he literally can’t any more.
“He’s not here, no.” She paused. “But he’s not the biggest threat to you, either. So don’t get comfortable.” Etta said, motioning for him to go on with his explanation. Ass kicking could wait a little bit longer, sure.
“Blowing up isn’t so bad. Kind of warm and tingly except you know, extreme and horribly painful. But you’d get used to it.” She smiled brightly, shrugging before pushing herself off the wall she was leaning on and taking a step towards him. “So you did a bad thing to stop a bad thing? That’s what I’m taking from this, at least. What’d you steal?”
She hoped it wasn’t something too important.
Tony had probably mentioned a missing piece
several times but really, after a while he’s easy
to tune out. For a grown man he sure does bitch a lot.
His response, while perhaps not intended, made her feel like shit. In this moment she hadn’t even been thinking about the lives that had been lost in Lagos or at the attack on the U.N. meeting. ( she’d thought about it alright, but for her sanity had put it in the back of her mind the past few days )
“It’s the lives that are going to be lost that I’m worried about.” That was a good enough answer.
He didn’t need to know the technicalities of the situation.
Or maybe he did.
“Is your only interest in killing The Winter Soldier? How far will you go to get what you want?” She questioned. Tony wouldn’t listen to her, arguing with Vision was pointless, Natasha already agreed with her, Peter was just some poor kid in over his head, and she’d already worn Rhodey’s patience thin this morning.
But here was someone who would listen to what she had to say,
whether he really wanted to or not.
“I respect that what happened to your people in Lagos and to your father at the U.N. deserve reparations–but do you need to get it first hand? Do you know what the stakes are for the rest of us? These people are our family. I’m fighting against… I’m fighting against my sisters.”
“….And technically Captain America is my boyfriend.
Or was. I don’t really know.”
"It’s not just what I want, it’s a matter of what needs to be done. James Barnes is a danger to everyone— I believe he more than proved that with his actions in Vienna.” T’Challa said sharply, frowning.
This wasn’t just revenge. It was necessity.
It wasn’t often that T’Challa was questioned so informally. Sure, people asked him his reasons but it was always polite, and precise, and rarely (unless they were close to him) did they challenge his decision on whatever matter was at hand. It was one of the perks of being a prince— king, now. But this woman seemed to throw all manners regarding royalty out of the window.
It was almost refreshing.
He would almost be relaxed if she wasn’t so angry,
and if they weren’t on their way to a fight.
“I owe it to my father, to my king to get justice. I am the protector of my people, Miss. How can I say I will keep them safe if I don’t deliver any justice to the man who killed their beloved leader, my father?” He asked her, tilting his head to one side while drumming his fingers in an irregular rhythm against the armrest.
Then she spoke of the ones she called her sisters. He wasn’t entirely sure which ones she meant, but seeing as Romanoff was with them, and there were two female Avengers left, he assumed it was them. He really hadn’t anticipated her to say anything about Captain Rogers being her boyfriend, though. It suddenly made sense as to why she was as angry as she was.
“It might not seem like it, but I am sorry for my own actions. They come off as harsh, but I am only doing what I think best. Just as you are, yes? These people— your family, they chose their side. And we chose ours. Whatever happens, will happen. But I would like to make this clear: I do it with a purpose, not just to fight and to get my own way.”
After Sam and Steve died things, obviously, got harder for Bucky and Etta. It was a strain on both of them emotionally, you know. Coming out of the battle, both bruised and bloody. They were okay. They were alive. But they couldn't find their friends. At least Bucky couldn't. Not at first. It wasn't until he heard Etta scream. Then he saw them. Both of their bodies, lying there. They hadn't died quickly, but after everything settled, the corpses were still worse for wear from the horrors of war.
Two hours after they died, Fury told them that he had married the two just before everything went down. His voice had lost it's usual sharp tone, but he was still brief with the news that would normally be happy. That was when Etta fell back against him and started sobbing. She'd already been crying, but that put the nail in the coffin (...a bad term to use).
The first week after they died, they hadn't even left each others' side unless absolutely necessary. Hand in hand, they went through the motions together. Filling out paperwork was done sitting beside one another in silence. Eating dinner whenever one of them would remember was done in silence. Neither of them really talked.
The second week after they died was when the funeral took place. There was too much to clean up after the battle to warrant a funeral straight after. So it took two weeks. That was alright with both of them, neither one of them wanted to go to their best friend's funeral. Like a lot of other things, they got dressed together. Both in black, both unable to remember the last time they smiled.
'IN REMEMBRANCE
STEVEN GRANT ROGERS
July 4, 1918 – March 9, 2016
a friend, a legend, captain america.
AND HIS WIFE
SAMANTHA DAWSON ROGERS
December 17, 1989 – March 9, 2016
a sister, a friend, nova. '
Some had wanted a huge grave marker for Steve. He was Captain America. A living legend among everyone who met him. But Bucky wouldn't let that happen. They were buried near his parents in a Brooklyn cemetery behind the old Catholic church that Sarah Rogers used to attend whenever she could. Etta had been asked when Samantha's birthday was. She couldn't give them an answer at first. Not until she remembered last December when Sam insisted that her birthday had to be close to Christmas.
In truth, Etta just figured that she wanted double the presents. The fact didn't make her roll her eyes in amusement like it had a few months ago.
The tenth week after they died, things had gone back to normal. Or, at least for everyone else they did. But Bucky and Etta were no longer attached at the hip. She went about her day, helping Wanda train, or pattering after Tony while he works away in his lab. He went on any mission that Fury and the others threw at him.
They should have leaned more on each other. But they didn't.
It wasn't a healthy way to deal with their grief, to deal with it separately.
They knew that.
Neither one of them wanted to let the other down. They needed to be strong.
The idiots.
The fourteenth week, Bucky got back from Europe after two weeks of being on a mission with Clint. The air around them wasn't awkward. It was never awkward, not even when they had just met. But it wasn't completely comfortable for either of them. They did their usual, she helped him unpack what little things he'd packed in the first place while he showered. They both cooked dinner, and then they sat on the couch with the television on, neither one of them really watching it. The time was spent with idle chat every once and a while when there was something to say.
It wasn't until late that night when they were both in bed curled up against each other that he said the thing they both needed at that moment.
“Hey,”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
A pause. “I know.”
Etta didn't say it back. Oh, he knew she still loved him of course. And she did. He was what kept her sane in the time after the battle.
But she hadn't said it back. And he couldn't help but feel that maybe– maybe this was when he really got the ending he deserved. She'd always told Bucky that he deserved a happy ending. He'd always laugh it off and tell Etta that she was a crazy romantic. It had been cute at the time.
But Bucky felt – no, he knew he was probably right.
Because she didn't say it back. Not since before the battle. Not for months. It was always a 'you too' or an 'I know' but never the words that she used to give out so freely before things went to hell around them.
It didn't matter at that moment, though. She was still there. If she would leave him, then she would. But until then, he just pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. It was enough.
The twentieth week after they died, Etta finally decided to go on a mission. She had said she didn't care what for, or who with, so it ended up being a routine Hydra sweep with Bucky. Go in, kill the bad guys, get out, go home. Something simple. Something that didn't require too much build up because in all honesty – neither of them wanted to spend time waiting around.
The first day in Turkey had been spent with them both holed up in a gross pay by the hour motel. Water stains on the ceiling, suspicious brown stains on the carpet, and the sight of at least three different cockroaches from wherever you sat in the room – but it worked for laying low. The first day they went over the building plans on the edge of the city. At some point Etta looked up at him after he'd made a sarcastic comment, a small smirk on her face.
“Well, as far as dates go... you know this isn't my worst.” She'd bumped his shoulder with her own, and he couldn't help the smile that flitted across his face.
Working together was a good idea. It always was.
The second day in Turkey wasn't as productive as the first. But it wasn't bad. He'd gone out first to get food, and ended up scouting the building out from a distance. She'd known this, but it didn't really bother her. Maybe half a year ago she would have followed Bucky and fussed until she was tired of fussing. But instead she just picked up her phone and called him.
But his phone was shut off. Not a surprise.
“Hey, I figure you're out doing bad-ass stuff right now..” She laughed a little to herself, folding her legs up under her as she sat on the motel bed.
A voicemail would have to do.
The fourth day in Turkey, they both woke up with blurry eyes and throbbing heads. It hadn't been an in and out mission. One misstep is all it would have taken for it to go up in flames. Or one informant spilling the beans about two SHIELD agents sneaking around, in this case.
Etta wasn't sure who would kill that informant first. Hydra, or her and Bucky.
The fifth day in Turkey, they were both tired. They were still strapped down to chairs, both had mixtures of drugs floating in their bloodstreams to make them weaker as to not break out. It still hadn't made them less defiant when interrogated.
That's when Etta snapped, and gave a small, too calm smile to the man in charge. The man who was asking question after question. Silently, Bucky willed her to be quiet. He didn't care that he was glaring daggers at her, anything to get her to shut up.
“You want to know who stormed that bunker back in Prague?” It wasn't her. “Me and my team.” It was Bucky, Clint, and Wanda. “And no one was left alive.” That was the truth, at least. “And oh, I had fun with it. I watched as it burned to the ground, even when your people were screaming in there I still lit it up.”
And then she fell back into silence, looking pleased at the slight twitch that the man gave.
He stayed silent too.
She opened her mouth again.
Bucky was torn between glaring a hole into her, or into the interrogater.
“You're gonna burn too – this whole place? It'll be gone by nightfall, I can guarante–“
One shot came from the gun the man had pulled out of his jacket pocket, hitting Etta. The very last thing she remembered hearing was Bucky making a strangled shriek when he saw the gun, and she thought one thing to herself; thank god for my healing factor.
She still hadn't said 'I love you' back.
The fortieth week after Sam and Steve's death, Bucky stood in front of their graves. It was winter, now. He was bundled up, but was still chilled to the bone. Fucking New York weather. But he was still standing there. Waiting as patient as he could. He was always patient for her. Even when it came to being late.
Aggravated, he pulled out his phone and started to press a button when he finally heard the footsteps behind him. Turning, he frowned.
“You're late.”
“I'm here, aren't I?” Nick Fury's voice snapped back. The man was dressed similarly; but held a manila folder in his hands. When he stopped beside the former soldier, he handed it over.
“His name was Norbert Creel. He had a brother in that compound you, Barton, and Maximoff took out in June. Word is, he'd cut his ties to Hydra a week after the incident in Turkey. All he wanted was revenge.”
Bucky was barely listening, instead he flipped through the folder and only stopped when it came to an autopsy photograph. One he never wanted – or needed, really – to see.
“And the autopsy report?”
Nick didn't answer at first. But when he did, he didn't look at Bucky. Instead, his eyes were trained on the graves in front of them. “The drugs they gave her were a mixture of shit I don't care to pronounce. It weakened all of her abilities – especially her ability to heal.” The man rattled off, like he'd practiced saying it before hand.
Or maybe he'd just given that report so many times it rolled off naturally.
Bucky didn't care.
“Even if she wasn't pumped full of drugs, the shot directly to the heart still might have killed her. To our knowledge, she never tested her powers that far.” He paused, only then looking at Bucky, and ignoring the glossy shine in the man's eyes. “I'm sorry.”
An hour later, Bucky was still at the cemetery. He'd read over the file once, then again, and again, and one more time just for good measure. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his phone again and pressed a button.
A bitter smile formed on his face when the message started playing.
“Hey, I figure you're out doing something bad-ass right now...” He could hear the chuckle in Etta's voice through the phone. “And just because you're off being a bad-ass doesn't give you the right to ditch me, mister. You're going to have hell to pay when you get back in this room.”
Then came Bucky's favorite part – or was it his least?
It varied from day to day.
“–Look, I know... I've been a bit of a shit lately. I really have no excuse. I mean, Sam died. Steve died. I fell apart and I know you did too but.. God, I'm the worst girlfriend ever.” He could hear rustling in the background. Still to this day, he couldn't decide what it was. Maybe she was pushing some papers off the bed? Or rummaging through the night stand's drawer that neither of them really wanted to touch? He had forever to figure it out.
Her voice broke his thoughts as she continued when the rustling stopped. “But that doesn't mean I don't want to be your girlfriend any more. I meant what I used to say, James.” Etta only really called him James when she was being serious. “You deserve a happy ending. Specifically with this crazy romantic broad.”
He held his breath.
“I love you too. So much.”
Long after the voicemail ended, he stood there. Then replayed it once, glaring down at the photograph of Creel before looking back up at the graves.
“See you guys later.” He half heartedly mumbled and walked away.
There beside the Rogers' grave stood a fresher one. One small marker with less words on it.
'IN LOVING MEMORY
LORETTA TREMAINE
Unknown – July 28, 2016'
Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?
honestly if ward is cold he has no problem digging around in sam’s closet until he finds her comfy hoodies. he will wear that bright pink hoodie that she bought in an insanely large size. he gives no fucks. it’s comfortable.
Who enunciates hand holding?
Ward does.
Who likes having their hair washed by who?
Both of them.
Who likes to slow dance?
Ward is a dumbass who likes to be romantic ( even when it’s not appropriate ) so he does. The last time it happened, they had been arguing for a couple hours and he just. turned on some music and started dancing with her. it was not the time. but he persisted. it was stupid, and ward got his way. ( that time )
Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?
SAM.
Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?
Sam tries.
Who hogs most of the covers at night?
Ward doesn’t hog them. But somehow they always get pushed on top of him. And he’s not sure if he woke up feeling like he’s suffocating because of the blankets or if her cat laid on his face, but it happens way too often.
Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?
Ward is literally the ‘ATTENTION: I NEED ATTENTION’ text post. so he will do this, and literally anything else whenever he wants any affection.
How do they share a dessert? Two forks or one?
Sam is the girlfriend who promises that she doesn’t want any. Then five minutes later go, “babe can i have a bite?” It depends on Ward’s mood if he’ll share or not.
Who gets jealous more easily?
Ward tbh. Man’s a lil bit obsessive at times.
Who gets angered more easily?
Sam.
How do they go to sleep at night?
Amazingly????? If his schedule allows it??? Ward has a really good sleep schedule??? he will also pointedly tell Sam that it’s getting late just before he goes to bed. ( one time she called him a grandpa and told him to stop acting like her dad. he made the mistake of muttering that she wouldn’t know what that’s like. neither one of them went to sleep that night. it was bad. )
Who gets the most shoulder rubs?
It’s even.
What are there arguments/fights like? How often do they fight?
Their fights are scattered. there’ll be really bad moments before it calms down for a little bit, then someone will say something and it’ll go off again. it usually ends with him in pain and her running out the door.
Who is more likely to throw things in fights?
Ward. Sam doesn’t make it any better by calling him a dumbass for throwing their stuff.
How do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument?
Ward will buy flowers. Sam is not impressed, but she ends up forgiving him.
Do they have nicknames for each other?
Tbh I feel like Ward and Sam are that really weird couple who will try to give each other the worst nicknames ever. They’re competitive about it, too.
Caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?
He’s actually very good at taking care of her when she’s sick? Almost too good. In fact, he kind of turns on Mom Mode when he takes care of her. She always kicks him out of the room ( and the apartment, if it’s too much ). Grant just sleeps a lot when he’s sick, so it’s very easy to take care of him.
Who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?
Ward’s very good at multitasking - lecturing Sam while patching her up is his superpower, she’s pretty sure.
Muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard.
Your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?
Sam will, but only because Ward seems to be working after the baby’s born?
Your muse’s of the otp reaction to finding the others crying about something? And how do they make them feel better?
Again, Grant will go into Mom Mode and make sure she’s okay, if she needs anything, who he needs to kill, etc. Sam just kind of shuffles over and hugs him until he’s ready to talk.
What would they be like as parents?
I don’t think they’d be bad parents, but Ward would just. Check out almost. He wouldn’t leave her, but he’d be spooked and it would definitely take him getting used to having someone to be responsible for other than himself. ( because Sam’s a big girl who can take care of herself, of course pfffftt )
What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?
I feel like they would have been the childhood sweethearts that are together through their teenage years, then meet again when they’re adults and it’s sort of awkward, sort of ‘aw shit they got hot’ or something.
Who enunciates taking a bath together?
Sam does.
Who likes who playing with their hair?
Sam plays with Grant’s hair when it starts getting too long, poking fun at him and telling him to cut his hair because it’s “starting to make funny animal shapes”
The place they mostly likely accidentally fall asleep together?
Ward will fall asleep any where he can logically get comfortable without threats around. But he doesn’t understand how the HELL Sam can sleep any where. It baffles him.
Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?
brock is literally The Worst about just tossing his dirty clothes on the floor. etta will not even touch his clothes unless there is a 100% guarantee that they’re clean. brock doesn’t care to wear etta’s things. tbh he doesn’t care for her to wear them either.
Who enunciates hand holding?
they’re not?? really the hand holding type???
Who likes having their hair washed by who?
tbh when they shower together, the last thing they’re thinking about is washing their hair.
Who likes to slow dance?
Neither of them would mind it, it just doesn’t happen
Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?
Brock tbh. Whenever Etta has to get up she just kind of. Shoves him off. If he falls into the floor then oh well.
Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?
Neither.
Who hogs most of the covers at night?
Both of them tbh. There has been actual fights over stealing the blankets. He argues that she has to be warm enough. Her counter is that his ego can keep him warm.
Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?
Brock.
How do they share a dessert? Two forks or one?
They get their own desserts tbh. Greedy fuckers.
Who gets jealous more easily?
Both of them holy shit, they’re petty enough to purposely try to make the other jealous, too. So it’s ten times worse.
Who gets angered more easily?
They both try to be even tempered adults. unfortunately, they both like to push each other’s buttons. a lot. so it’s a toss up.
How do they go to sleep at night?
Probably really late together, at different times, or one of them just won’t go to sleep at all.
Who gets the most shoulder rubs?
Etta does
What are there arguments/fights like? How often do they fight?
Considering they will fight about literally anything and everything, it can get pretty bad. It range from picking at each other, to small spats, to fucking world war three.
Who is more likely to throw things in fights?
Brock has actual scars from where Etta has just. up and thrown something at him. but to be fair, he throws things too. just not at her. she doesn’t grant him that mercy.
How do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument?
Sex. But that happens in the middle of an argument sometimes and that’s just? a god damn mess. doesn’t fix everything but it’s satisfying at the time.
Do they have nicknames for each other?
Yeah, Etta calls him a fucking asshole and Brock calls her a god damn bitch. it’s very romantic. they love each other a lot.
Caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?
tbh i feel like??? brock will literally just want to lay there with etta when he’s sick? he doesn’t need anything he just wants to lay there. in quiet. with etta. he’s cold and she’s warm. but she’s also fidgety and not quiet. and he’s grumpy. it’s a mess. but when etta is sick, brock always miraculously manages to be away on a mission #oops
Who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?
brock asks her to kiss it better. etta calls him an idiot and puts more antiseptic on his wounds with a smile.
Muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?
they are the King and Queen of I Told You So’s. no matter what scenario.
Your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?
please don’t let them reproduce
Your muse’s of the otp reaction to finding the others crying about something? And how do they make them feel better?
idk i feel like brock would just sit there with etta until she stopped or back out of the room slowly. it would probably never happen the other way around.
What would they be like as parents?
pLEASE DON’T LET THEM REPRODUCE
What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?
lmao he’s fucking twenty years older than her i don’t think it would work even in au form.
Who enunciates taking a bath together?
brock tbh.
Who likes who playing with their hair?
brock knows her weakness. brock will utilize this weakness. come and lay on the couch with me baby, you’re not annoying me. next thing you know, he’s played with her hair for twenty minutes and she’s asleep.
The place they mostly likely accidentally fall asleep together?
honestly they both get really tired after having sex so. they’ve fallen asleep in some strange places.
Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?
sam doesn’t think so, but steve has noticed that all of his sweaters start going missing at least a month into their relationship. he forgives her for it. he buys new ones for himself, she can keep the ones she took. the new ones go missing too.
Who enunciates hand holding?
Steve does.
Who likes having their hair washed by who?
Steve likes washing Sam’s hair. she does not complain at all.
Who likes to slow dance?
Sam does, and of course Steve obliges even though the first couple times he gets a little sad afterwards.
Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?
Sam tbh
Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?
Sam please. Captain America does not cuddle in blanket forts ( he has sex in them ofc )
Who hogs most of the covers at night?
Neither. The blankets get kicked off onto the floor while they sleep.
Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?
Sam.
How do they share a dessert? Two forks or one?
Two forks. It’s so stupidly cheesy when they do it. They both love it.
Who gets jealous more easily?
Sam.
Who gets angered more easily?
SaAAAAAAM.
How do they go to sleep at night?
Sam probably drags Steve to bed like, ‘yes i know you have things to do but super soldier or not, you need to sleep don’t make me knock your ass out’ after five minutes he’s out like a light.
Who gets the most shoulder rubs?
Steve.
What are there arguments/fights like? How often do they fight?
It’s mostly?? Sam arguing and Steve just nodding and listening. Sometimes he’ll speak. It sets Sam off again and he is full of Regret. It always ends fine, though. ( except for that one time it didn’t and she dumped his ass )
Who is more likely to throw things in fights?
Neither? Neither. Sam tends to wave her arms a lot, and Steve might punch a wall if he’s angry enough. But neither of them throw things.
How do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument?
Depends on how bad the fight was. Usually Steve slips away and lets her calm down before trying to talk to her again. Then he has his patented “i’m going to ignore that we just had a fight and pretend everything’s okay” routine.
Do they have nicknames for each other?
Nah.
Caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?
Steve doesn’t get sick? or when he does, it’s like, a cough for a day and then he’s fine and dandy. Sam will literally be one with the couch and become needy af whenever she’s sick. Steve tries to help the best he can. The best he can is get medicine for her. He spends an hour at the drug store because should he get the night time medicine? or the day time medicine? why isn’t there all the time medicine? things were not this complicated in the 40s.
Who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?
Neither. Both will go to someone with actual medical experience if it’s bad enough.
Muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?
Again, neither. But honestly?? Steve’s not a beach person and stays underneath an umbrella the whole time. He likes taking pictures, though.
Your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?
Steve. Even when the kid doesn’t cry, there’s a good chance Steve still gets up in the middle of the night to just. see that little thing that he and Sam made. sometimes he sheds a tear because he finally got what he wanted to begin with. he’s so lucky. meanwhile, Sam’s passed the fuck out because motherhood is tiring as hell.
Your muse’s of the otp reaction to finding the others crying about something? And how do they make them feel better?
Steve is the master of distraction. He’s not usually a chatty person, per say. but his go-to reaction is to start telling her stories from when he was a kid/young adult in Brooklyn, and sometimes it works? sometimes she tells him to shut up. he never gets offended by it though. Sam has never walked in on Steve crying. ever. she’d probably be spooked if she did.
What would they be like as parents?
Over protective tbh.
What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?
oh god if it’s awkward now it would have been SO MUCH MORE AWKWARD if they were childhood sweethearts. imagine pre serum steve with this massive crush on sam. all that awkward. tiny body.
Who enunciates taking a bath together?
Sam tries. Steve refuses because the bath is so small and he is too tol.
Who likes who playing with their hair?
If you mean ‘playing’ as in Sam likes pulling his hair while they have sex, then Steve loves it when she plays with his hair.
The place they mostly likely accidentally fall asleep together?
Sam can sleep any where. Steve’s more than happy to let her lean on him any where. it works out well.
Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?
Bucky’s more likely to find Etta wearing his clothes for no particular reason other than the fact that she likes to see his reaction. It always renders him a little shocked at first, to come in and see her curled up in one of his shirts. But then he gets this little smile on his face and it’s just. the Most Adorable thing.
Who enunciates hand holding?
Etta does.
Who likes having their hair washed by who?
Bucky likes to have his hair washed by Etta, even though it’s slightly hilarious if they’re in the shower together because of the height difference. Afterwards his legs are always slightly cramped from having to crouch down slightly but it’s worth it.
Who likes to slow dance?
Both of them, but it’s a rare occurrence.
Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?
If given the chance, Etta will 100% fall asleep on Bucky. Whether it’s her head in his lap, or on his shoulder, or even curled up on him. He’s the perfect pillow for when she crashes.
Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?
I really can’t see either of them building an honest to god blanket fort. But Etta will definitely pile on the blankets if they ever have a free night to just relax. And eventually Bucky has to push all of them off because of the fact that she’s pressed against his side and he’s slowly being over cooked.
Who hogs most of the covers at night?
Etta does
Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?
100% Bucky tbh.
How do they share a desert? Two forks or one?
Even though Bucky swears up and down that he doesn’t want a desert, almost every time he always sneaks a few glances and steals a few bites with Etta’s fork. She doesn’t really mind, but she always teases him about it.
Who gets jealous more easily?
I can’t see either one of them getting too jealous. They’re not that type of couple? Plus, they keep close to each other in situations that might prompt jealousy.
Who gets angered more easily?
Etta.
How do they go to sleep at night?
Slowly or not at all. Not a lot of sleep goes on. ( take that as you will )
Who gets the most shoulder rubs?
Bucky.
What are there arguments/fights like? How often do they fight?
Not very often?? Mostly it’s a “you dumbass YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED’ argument but it’s pretty rare
Who is more likely to throw things in fights?
Bucky.
How do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument?
long stuttered apologies, some hugging, many bad jokes from Etta.
Do they have nicknames for each other?
I mean. Etta is the Queen of Bad Nicknames. And Bucky probably has a few pet names but nothing noteworthy
Caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?
Bucky tried to care for Etta when she was sick, once. He ended up with scorch marks on his metal arm that just wouldn’t fucking come off. She never apologized. But he’s the King of The Man Cold tbh.
Who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?
Etta will nag and complain the whole time while she patches Bucky up. Even when he says he doesn’t need it.
Muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?
Neither.
Your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?
It depends on how tired the other one is, it’s fairly split.
Your muse’s of the otp reaction to finding the others crying about something? And how do they make them feel better?
Etta would be a little lost, and probably a little ?!?!!? because the girl can barely handle her own emotions, much less someone else’s. so she just. clings on and hopes physical comfort works. ( it does most of the time ) but Bucky just kind of fades out until she’s ready to be around someone. if she wants comfort, she’ll damn well come and get it.
What would they be like as parents?
so lost and confused. but not bad.
What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?
fucking adorable tbh.
Who enunciates taking a bath together?
Etta probably does. Bucky takes it as an invitation for sex. ( it 99% of the time is tbh )
Who likes who playing with their hair?
Bucky likes to play with Etta’s hair. But she rarely lets him because one sure way to get her to fall the fuck to sleep is to do that and ‘god dammit Barnes I have things to do and you’re making me sleepy’
The place they mostly likely accidentally fall asleep together?
Okay Scott, play it cool–you can handle this. One on one, and she’s a chick. So unless she throws her punches like Hope, or has some freaky powers, you can totally take her. ( oh god this isn’t the one with telekinesis is it?? ) Scott turned around, picking his jaw up from the floor and trying to look like he belonged.
“—-You’re not the witch-y one, are you?” He asked, pointing a finger at her.
“You know, the one that does all the..” Scott moved his hands in the air,
mimicking the movements of the Scarlet Avenger.
He squinted at her, trying to remember her face but he wasn’t really making any connections. She wasn’t Black Widow, and he didn’t think she was Scarlet Witch. So maybe he wouldn’t be getting his ass handed to him if it came down to a fight. “Would you believe me if I said I was the new house-cleaner? I know how to mop and everything.”
“Okay so I know this looks bad, but it’s totally not!” He assured her, raising his hands in the air. “See I would have rang the bell, but I really didn’t want to run into the bird guy again. ….He’s not here, right??” Scott suddenly looked around the room nervously.
Hey, she didn’t raise the alarms or go for a gun yet,
so in Scott’s mind everything was totally under control.
“Wanda’s taller.” Etta waved the question off like she got asked it all the time. She didn’t. But she wasn’t offended. Loretta only wished her abilities were as cool as Wanda’s.
She stared at him for a few moments as he tried to ( badly ) explain what he was doing there. Then she pointed off somewhere behind her. “We have an entrance in the back for the help.” She replied plainly, ignoring the fact that that had to be the single most pretentious thing she’d ever said.
In all honesty, she should have probably been more offended that he didn’t recognize her. If not from the adventures with the Avengers she’d had, then at least from the tabloid articles ranging from ‘mistress’ to ‘bastard child’ of Tony Stark.
.....So maybe it was a good thing he didn’t recognize her.
The guy was right about one thing, though; it did look bad. With an almost amused expression, Etta tipped her head to the side. “....Which bird guy are you talking about? Hawkeye? Or Falcon?”
And then it clicked.
”————Oh my god are you the bug boy that kicked Wilson’s ass?”
She couldn’t resist as she studied him carefully,
obviously looking him up and down.
“I thought you’d be taller.”
Sam’s head was still spinning from all the chaos of the past few days. Too much had happened in too little time, and it was obvious that they were all in dire need of a few moments to just god damn think about what they were doing.
If she were honest, Sam wasn’t here because she agreed with Tony.
–Fuck. She wasn’t even entirely sure where she stood with The Accords.
But the two things she did know? Steve was acting childish, and Natasha was the only person she could fully agree with at the moment. That didn’t really leave her with many options in the grand scheme of things, hence her sitting here on Tony’s jet on her way to fight her best friend, her boyfriend, and some of the only people she considered family in this world.
Aside from chastising Tony for bringing Peter into this ( and trying to explain what all this actually was to the young kid ) Sam had kept to herself since the rift in the Avenger’s had been formed. She wasn’t entirely present, and it took her a moment to answer the stranger who approached her.
“No, not at all.” She said softly, giving a friendly smile in return.
T’Challa. King. Black Panther. Total badass.
–And the guy who was trying really hard to kill Bucky Barnes.
‘It would be under different circumstances.” She said plainly, obviously angry.
Sam sighed, looking out the window and watching the ground below past by. She probably shouldn’t be rude to royalty. She probably shouldn’t be rude to anyone. But right now she had other things to worry about than her manners. “This is all happening so fast.” Sam observed.
Turning to him, she added, “How do you think this will end? Who will have to die to put this conflict to rest?“ Would it be Tony? Steve? Loretta? Herself? “It’s only been a matter of days and this whole mess has caused irreparable damage.”
She was angry, and she was scared,
and she was taking it out on the first person who had spoken to her in hours.
T’Challa hadn’t anticipated her anger when he sat down. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t justified in it. He didn’t know of her world, really. And as far as he could tell, the friendships everyone had formed were currently being ripped apart. It had to be stressful, to say the least.
“Which damage are you referring to? The friendships between your teammates? Or the ones who have lost their lives?” He asked.
If he were being just as plain as she, he would have told her that it was Barnes that would have to die before at least his part in this war was over. Only then could he try to repair his own life, and tend to the rest of his responsibilities back home and mend what had been undone.
But... she was already pretty angry.
And it wasn’t like he could up and switch seats on a whim. That would be rude.
So instead he spoke carefully,
“I’m not sure how this will end. Not well, I assume.”
“But not everything is irreparable. The dead will stay dead, but relationships will mend in time if both parties are willing.”
If Scott was really gonna do the whole ‘Good guy fights bad guy’ thing, he figured he might as well at least try and do it right. –You know, only committing felonies when he really has too, and maybe returning that doodad Hank had him steal from the Avenger’s headquarters several months back. Hope had suggested using the front door this time, instead of breaking in, but Scott wasn’t as confident in Falcon’s ability to forgive and forget. ( and he was pretty sure Hope knew that would end badly and only suggested it to see him get his ass kicked. )
–Hank on the other hand, hadn’t been very helpful either.
He took the suit, saying it needed to be repaired.
So what? Scott was supposed to break into the Avenger’s Headquarters ( re-break?) with nothing but his good looks? …….He could do that, right? Right. Yeah. Of course he could. He’d waited until some crisis called the Avengers’ away, sending them all to some foreign country to track down some terrorist or another. The place should be empty, and all he had to do was return to piece of equipment he took last time.
Piece. Of. Cake.
The place was a god-damn mansion–definitely one of the top five nicest places Scott had broken into. ( well. top four. one of those probably doesn’t count since he didn’t actually make it inside before getting arrested )
Scott was walking around, head low but not entirely paying attention to his surroundings. There were too many cool knickknacks and bobble-heads, and he got easily distracted. Stopping at a fireplace, Scott put his arms on his hips and looked at the ridiculously large portrait that hung on the wall. “Who do these people think they are anyway? Earth’s mightiest heroes? –Really?” He spoke aloud, laughing slightly.
She wasn’t an Avenger.
If there was one thing Loretta always made clear, it was that. Would she help people? Yes. Would she risk her life if need be? Definitely. But the terms ‘hero’ and ‘Avenger’ weren’t really one she was really able to operate comfortably under. Plus, it gave her the excuse of getting out of stupid missions to stupid countries in the middle of the god damn week.
And most of the time, the others didn’t mind that. Usually, she was put on what Tony called ‘guard dog duty’—watching security cameras and making sure no one disturbs the peace. ( because apparently around half a year back someone actually did. wilson was still bitter about it. )
Nothing ever really happened. No one was stupid enough
to actually break in to the Avengers compound.
No one except this guy, apparently.
It hadn’t taken her long to find the man once FRIDAY had alerted her to his presence. Part of her wanted to congratulate the man. He’d managed to break in. If it wasn’t for Tony’s recently updated AI, no one would have probably known he was there until it was too late. But the other part of her wanted to call him a dumbass— which he was.
“Yeah. Those guys are something else, huh?” Etta asked, leaning against the wall behind him a few feet away.
To be fair, she probably should have been more on edge around someone who broke in with unknown intentions. But really— it’s not like she didn’t have the upper hand, here.
“But who do you think you are?” She asked another question.
“Besides an idiot, of course.”
Normally, it would only take almost two hours to arrive at Berlin from Schkeuditz. But after Tony Stark compiled his team, he insisted that they take one of his private jets there to cut back on the time.
So a two hour drive became a thirty minute flight,
and in T’Challa’s opinion, that was too long.
Even if it was spent in luxury.
The first thing he did after boarding was set his things down; he only carried a jacket, a few small items, and the case that held the Black Panther suit on board. And then he went to speak with the pilot. It would help ease his mind that they were in capable hands.
Call it a reflex to take a look at these things.
By the time he came out of the pilot’s cabin, everyone else had already boarded. He didn’t stop to speak to Ms. Romanoff, who was sitting with Colonel Rhodes and talking quietly. And he certainly didn’t stop to have a few words with Tony, who was handling a boy who looked far too young to be joining their fight.
However, he did stop when he saw the only other woman
that Stark had asked for help: Samantha.
Admittedly, he wasn't too familiar with them. T’Challa had only spoken to Natasha once or twice, and he only knew Tony by reputation ( and boy, what a reputation did the man have ), the rest were a mystery to him. As was the android that was supposedly joining them sooner or later.
But he hadn’t even spoken a word to Sam.
“Do you mind if I sit with you?” He’d asked when stepping into her line of sight, only sitting when she agreed.
Settling himself deep into the seat, T’Challa smiled briefly at the woman. Like always, he managed to look completely comfortable - though in all honesty, he was buzzing with anxiety for the battle ahead. Not for himself, but for the others; the ones on his side as well as the ones defending James Barnes.
They had no idea what was coming right at them.
“I’m afraid I’ve been rude in neglecting to introduce myself.”
He said, then motioned to himself. “T’Challa. It is nice to meet you.”
Practicing their ‘mad kung-fu skills’ by themselves.
It wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d walked in on, per say. After all, Loretta did live with Tony Stark once upon a time. And Wanda. And Samantha. So there were definitely moments when she would walk in, see something odd, and walk right back out.
This might have been one of the funniest things she’d seen, though. When she’d asked ( see: told ) Scott to mop the floor after an unfortunate incident while cooking, she hadn’t expected to come back in to a bad rip off of The Karate Kid.
“If you break my mop, I will break you.” She said as she passed by, careful not to slip on the wet floor.
Scott, however, almost did slip. He hadn’t even heard her walk back in.
“I, you know–” She was sure he could explain what he was doing.
But she knew.
Loretta always knew.
....That was a lie. But she was pretty sure that she knew.
Waving a hand, she stopped at the door way and grinned at him. “No, no. Please continue doing... whatever you were doing, Crouching Spider, Hidden Dragonfly.”
Etta laughed when she heard the offended noises coming from her boyfriend.
Struggling to climb through a window after accidentally locking themselves out of their house.
In Etta’s defense, it really wasn’t her fault.
It wasn’t her fault that Tony had started blowing up her phone earlier that morning. And it definitely wasn’t her fault that she’d wanted to sleep that morning either.
So of course it wasn’t her fault when she didn’t hear Sam calling and texting her several times, telling her to come to the god damn door, Loretta.
And it probably wasn’t her fault when she didn’t immediately go to help Samantha, who was dangling from their window?
“I’m going to kill you when I get in there.” No, that one was definitely her fault.
Walking forward, Etta leaned closer to Sam, an innocent look on her face as she gripped Sam’s wrists like she was going to help her.
Then she whispered one thing that made her roommate’s blood run cold.
“Long live the king.”
And then Sam dropped ( well, was pushed ) back to the ground and the window was slammed shut, the sounds of Etta laughing maniacally could be heard below.
At the same time, she could hear Samantha yelling insults and threats.
Accidentally having fallen asleep on the floor somewhere.
It wasn’t technically snooping if he was given free reign of the floor.
T’Challa liked to be thorough, he liked to know every nook, cranny, and cubbyhole that could be explored without having some short American man yelling at someone to get him back to where he should be. ( Here’s to you, Everett Ross. An actual pain in his backside ) So when he found a quiet place to keep himself for the time being, he didn’t mind the noise coming from outside of the room as much.
Hidden in a small office just behind the main hallway, T’Challa sat with his phone in his hand, one earbud in as he went through his emails. Everything was fine, for now. Almost peaceful, even.
Despite the man who killed his father still breathing and being held levels below him, of course.
And then he heard someone take a deep breath, and he immediately sprung up from his chair, looking around.
It took a good few seconds for him to spot her.
He saw her hair first. Then as he walked around the long table, her head, then the rest of her. What was her name; Dawson? Sam, he’d heard Stark call her almost half an hour before when he passed by in bulky metal handcuffs. T’Challa assumed ‘Sam’ was short for Samantha, but for all he knew it could have been short for Sampson.
He doubted she could pull that off as well.
Realizing it was probably creepy to be watching this woman he didn’t really know sleep, T’Challa moved forward to nudge her awake. Before he could, though. She rolled over onto her side, still huddled near the wall behind the desk. It made him stop.
At least someone could get some rest with all this chaos around them.
Without making a noise, he picked up his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, giving her a bit more comfort than the floor would provide and sat back down before pulling out his phone again.
“Mmm.” Sam muttered in reply to his comment. Admittedly, there were times when Sam wanted to turn to Steve and ask him what the hell was going through his mind–because she had absolutely no idea. He was one of the hardest people to read that she had ever met ( or, at least, ever remembered meeting. ha ! ). She felt like every time they had an actual conversation they took one step forward and two steps back. Men.
Sam pulled into the nearly empty parking lot and killed the engine, tugging off her seat belt she looked out the window. “Crappy weather.” She commented, yawning loudly as she opened her door and climbed out of the car. The sun was still up, but clouds were nearly covering the sky and the air smelt like rain. “You mind driving if it starts raining?” She asked Steve, walking towards the sidewalk with her hands hidden in her pockets. “Kinda freaks me out.”
( this technically counts as talking about the weather right? alright Sam, you are officially the most awkward person Steve could have gotten stuck on this trip with ) She wasn’t entirely sure why, but had ran through plenty of possible reasons.
Maybe she’d been in a car cash because of the rain.
Or maybe–her father had died from the road being too slick and his car falling into the river.
Or maybe–she witnessed the hit and run of her best friend in the rain when she was eight.
–Or maybe nothing terrible had happened at all and she just had a normal fear of bad weather.
Sam looked at the sign that greeted visitors to the rest area, reading the state’s motto out-loud. “Virginia is for lovers. Very Hallmark.” She commented raising a brow to show her amusement to Steve.
At her mention of the weather, Steve tilted his head to the side and peered up at the sky from his window. He hadn’t even noticed how it was gradually getting darker from the cloud coverage. Looking back at her, he nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He replied. Part of him wanted to ask what made her nervous about driving in the rain. But like ( what he thought was ) a smart man, he didn’t. It would either lead to her telling him the obvious ‘....it’s dangerous’ reply or knowing his luck, it’d be something depressing and he would have made awkward it in the car.
Again.
But he wasn’t looking at the same sign as she was when she spoke next. So it took him a few moments of him looking at her in confusion, and then actually seeing the sign she was referring to, to understand that she wasn’t actually implying anything. She was trying to make small talk. The odd moment alone made him laugh and this give her an amused look in return. “I don’t really think anyone sees Virginia as one of the romance capitols of the world...” Steve mused aloud. “But maybe most of us just didn’t get the memo?” He joked but then fell silent again.
It would always be strange to Bucky to hear how much other people knew about him and Steve–or at least, how much they thought they knew. Sure, a lot of it was true. Nazi Germany. The Howling Commandos. Steven Grant Rogers & James Buchanan Barnes. But god damn, if they didn’t get a lot of it wrong. “What you see isn’t always how it was, sometimes it’s just how people want you to think it was. Knowing that the great Captain America is really just a sickly kid from Brooklyn that managed to get involved in some crazy science experiment…” Bucky let the sentence trail off for a few moments, feeling responsible for not stopping Steve from getting involved in said experiment.
“–Well, it would probably make him seem human.” He snorted.
And if there was one thing Captain America couldn’t be, it was that.
The banter between them was nice, and it happened easily. Bucky smiled smugly at her comments. “Noted.” He replied, “On both accounts.” Was this the hard part? Getting someone to not shoot on sight–to help? Not likely. The hard part would come later, when she betrayed him. It might not be fully her fault, maybe she’d even have good intentions. Maybe she would think this would keep him safe–giving him over to SHIELD or whoever she answered to now a days?
The betrayal would hurt, he knew.
But that pretty little smirk of hers would keep him along for the ride.
“Thank you, Loretta. It… This really means a lot to me.” If things went as they should, he would find a way to repay her. Maybe not in material terms, but he wouldn’t let this debt go unpaid. “I’ve stayed hidden by staying on the move. I can’t stay in one play very long. It’s not safe, for me or the general public. I won’t be in your hair for long.”
Steve Rogers stopped being human the moment he went into the ice. That’s when he became a legend. He stopped being human when he came out of it too. Because that’s when he became an honest to god superhero. But she didn’t say any of these things. Etta doubted that Bucky would ever see Steve as anything except that ‘sickly kid from Brooklyn’ - who was she to try and change his mind?
How was she supposed to respond? No problem? In truth, it was a big problem. Fucking super soldiers. They were always getting her into trouble one way or another. “If you say so.” Loretta paused awkwardly. Then she spoke again. “Well...” She cleared her throat and pushed herself off the chair, “Before you get out of my hair you might want to wash your own.” Etta replied. “Not saying you look homeless or anything but...” She trailed off. She totally was implying that.
Though, technically if he was always on the move,
it did mean he was homeless. So really, she was
just being a good Samaritan.
“Shower’s down the hall.” She pointed. Yes, she was bossing around a known assassin and former Hydra operative. No, she didn’t really care.
Kicking him into the shower to collect her thoughts was
a lot better than kicking him out of her apartment.. right?
