Summary: Growing up in Kansas, you had a crush on a young Clark Kent. When he moved away, you forced yourself to move on, only to cross paths again in the future after you get hired on at the Daily Planet as an assistant. At first, you're thrilled, until you realize that he doesn't remember who you are.
Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, angst, coworkers, childhood friends, unrequited love, he forgot who you were (did he ever really know?), assistant!reader
WC: 3.4k
Masterlist
When Clark Kent moved out of Smallville, you thought you'd never see him again. He'd moved on to bigger and better things. Eventually, you thought you could do the same. Move on.
But when you walked into work on your first day as an administrative assistant at the Daily Planet and you saw Clark at his desk, you couldn't help but let out a little gasp.
He glanced up at you and stopped typing. He was just as handsome as the last time you saw him at high school graduation. His sharp jawline and slightly mussed dark hair. And his eyes, oh, those beautiful blue eyes that you fell for in English class back in middle school.
"Clark!" you exclaimed, halting in your tracks. "Oh my god, this is so crazy! I didn't know you moved to Metropolis! Small world!"
He gave you a nervous smile, exchanging a glance with the young man sitting next to him before uttering the worst words you could have imagined. "Sorry, do I know you?"
Your smile froze as the blood drained from your face. "Huh?"
"Have-Have we met before? I'm sorry, I don't recognize you." He shook his head apologetically.
Oh.
He didn't know who you were.
He didn't remember that you'd gone to school together from elementary to high school. Or that you'd sat beside him for an entire year in your homeroom in freshman year. Or that he'd been your study buddy in math for an entire semester in senior year.
Clark didn't remember you at all.
In a moment of panic, you started to laugh. "O-Oh, my bad, sorry, I thought you were someone else."
"You know a lot of Clarks out there?" asked the guy next to Clark. He looked too young to be working as a journalist, all baby faced and freckled. Honestly, it was kind of cute.
You shook your head. "No, uh, just the one."
Clark smiled kindly at you. "Well, now you know two. I'm also Clark. Guess all Clarks have a look to them."
You giggled nervously. "Guess so. Anyway, sorry for bothering you."
"No problem, see you around... what's your name?"
You hesitated then told him, waiting for a flash of recognition to cross his face, but it never came. He truly, honestly didn't remember you. With a tight smile, you excused yourself to go and find your point of contact.
Maybe it was ridiculous to expect him to remember you, it's been so many years since you graduated. But still... it did sting to know you made so little of an impact on him.
Were you too boring back in school? Not pretty enough to catch his eye even a bit?
You pursed your lips as you walked away, feeling a little bitter. Then you realized something. You'd changed over the years. You went away to college, made new friends, found new hobbies. You were not the same person you were back in school. Perhaps you could show him that. Maybe you'd be able to catch his eye this time.
From that day on, you decided to do everything in your power not to waste this chance. You'd make him notice you.
It started with small changes. Waking up early to style your hair with more care so it would look perfect every time you walked into work, going shopping for a new wardrobe that would make you stand out amongst your coworkers. Pretty blouses that showed off your curves in a tasteful way, flowy pants that made you float around the bullpen.
You started watching YouTube tutorials to learn new ways to do your makeup that would make you look your absolute best.
It was about a week into your transformation when Lois noticed. She stopped by your desk and gave you a subtle once over. You glanced up at her and straightened up. "What's up?" you asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing, just... you look nice."
Your eyebrows raised. "Huh? Oh! Thank you."
"Special occasion?"
"No," you said, shaking your head. "Just... wanted a change!"
Lois nodded thoughtfully. "Huh. Well, it's nice."
Your cheeks flushed as she walked away. If Lois had noticed, surely Clark had to have seen you too. You peeked over at his desk to see him hunched over his computer typing furiously. He glanced up as Lois sat down at her desk behind him, but quickly went back to work.
You bit your lip as you debated finding a reason to go over to their desks when your team lead Alison stopped in front of you.
"Hey," Alison said, "can you run these documents over to Jimmy Olsen over there?" She pointed over to the guy next to Clark and your heart jumped.
"Yeah, no problem," you said eagerly, fighting the urge to snatch the files from her hands.
The whole thirty step walk to that side of the bullpen had your heart thumping. You knew you looked good today, but was your hair all in its place? Did you smudge your lipstick at all? You'd been drinking coffee, surely it hadn't all smeared, right?
You almost stopped to go back to your desk and check when Jimmy saw you about ten steps away.
He called out your name and waved you over. "Hey, are those the documents from Alison?"
You nodded, then sucked in a breath when Clark looked up at you as you approached. You tried not to look at him as you passed behind him to hand the papers to his desk mate. "Here you go," you said, putting on a big smile.
"Thanks!" Jimmy replied, shooting you a smile of his own. "They're for the article Clark and I are working on, about that new policy the government is proposing around land ownership. Real riveting stuff." The sarcasm was loud and clear, and you couldn't help but giggle.
"Sounds like a fun time," you joked, looking at Clark. You mustered up the courage to ask, "Is it going well?"
He shrugged in that way that says 'so-so'. "It is what it is, it's not particularly involved."
You waited for him to say something--anything--about the way you looked, but he just smiled at you in that sweet and genuine way that he does. You tried not to be disappointed, it was just the first week of this, but your stomach sank just a bit.
The next few encounters went about the same way, with Clark seeing but not noticing anything about you.
After two more weeks of this, you were starting to lose hope. Was he really not attracted to you? Were you just as unnoticeable as you were in school?
It started to weigh on you every time you walked into work. You could try as hard as you wanted, but no matter how many pretty dresses you put on, no matter how much makeup you smeared on your face, you didn't seem to be someone that turned his head.
It felt like your heart was cracking with each passing day, the fractures letting out your will to keep trying.
What was the point?
Every time you passed by, he was kind and welcoming, but never seemed to notice or address the effort you put in. Effort you put in for him and him alone.
It all came to a head at the Daily Planet's summer staff barbecue. You decided this was the last time. This was the last day you'd spend worrying about what to wear and whether or not Clark would like it.
On the day of the barbecue, you picked out a sundress that highlighted all of your curves, and a pair of cute sandals. You styled your hair and makeup flawlessly, spending almost the entire morning on making yourself look the absolute best.
When you walked onto the patio of the rooftop restaurant the Planet rented out, your hands were clammy with nervous sweat. You knew you looked a bit more extra than you'd been dressing even more recently, and it was hard to predict how it would be received.
Glancing around the event, you saw that Clark hadn't arrived yet, so you allowed yourself to relax a little.
With each bite of hors d'oeuvres and sip of your cocktail, you could feel your nervousness ebb away, tension slowly melting out of your body. Music played in the background and you smiled more than you had in a long time.
After you ate and laughed with your friends, you found yourself looking over the edge of the patio railing at the Metropolis cityscape.
The sun cast a warm, golden glow over the rooftop, and as you gazed at the glittering skyline, you felt a sense of peace for the first time in weeks.
You heard some of your coworkers exclaiming excitedly and turned to see Clark and Lois entering the restaurant. She was wearing a lovely little black number, and he...
Oh, he looked better than you ever dreamed. He wasn't dressed to the nines, but even his simple white button down, suit jacket, and dress pants made him look otherworldly.
Your heart started to pound out of your chest. This was it. Your last chance. Your final opportunity to catch his eye. You tipped your glass back and swallowed the rest of your cocktail, feeling the alcohol burn gently as it went down your throat.
With a sharp inhale, you sauntered over to Clark and Lois and smiled as brightly as you could muster. "Hey!"
Lois smiled back. "Hey! Wow, you look incredible!"
You looked down at your dress. "Aw, thank you!" You let yourself look at Clark through your lashes. "What do you think? I wasn't sure about the colour..."
He nodded appreciatively. "Yeah, you picked a good one!"
You waited for more to come, but it didn't. You smiled again, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. "Right. Thanks."
Someone from across the patio called Clark's name, and he grinned, waving at them and starting in their direction. A pull in your chest urged you to say something else, anything else, to keep him from going, but you just stayed in place watching his back.
You hadn't even realized you were outwardly staring at him until Lois cleared her throat. "Sorry about him, he's... well, a bit oblivious when it comes to women."
Shock thrummed through your veins as your eyes widened. "What? I-I don't know what you mean."
Her eyebrows turned down in a pitiful smile. "I've seen the way you look at him. You aren't very subtle, you know."
Heat crept up your neck. "Huh?"
"I'm assuming this was for him?" she asked, gesturing at your outfit. "You do look fantastic, by the way. Don't think you aren't gorgeous, he's just... focused on other things, I guess."
You couldn't meet her eyes, instead opting to look out towards the setting sun again. Honestly, you wanted to jump off the roof right there, but you forced yourself to stay grounded.
"How long?" Lois pushed. "A few weeks? A month? Was it when you got here?"
"About twenty years," you said sullenly.
Lois frowned. "Like, it feels like it's been twenty years? Or--"
"We grew up together." You sighed and almost covered your face before you remembered it was covered in make up. You threw your hands down in annoyance.
"You--but then why does he act like he doesn't know you?"
"If I only knew," you chuckled sadly. "I think... I think he never really knew me to begin with. God, it was so stupid of me to think he'd remember me." The words wouldn't stop coming, even though you knew you should stop talking about this to her. "I really thought I'd left enough of an impression that a few years out of high school wouldn't be all he needed to completely erase his memory of me."
You shook your head and took in a deep breath. "But you know what, it doesn't even matter. I don't care anymore. I... I wanted to give him one last chance to notice me as I am today even if he doesn't remember me the way I was, and I still can't do that, so, what's the point of trying anymore?"
Lois said your name softly, but you turned away from her.
"I'm going to head out," you said quietly. "Say bye to everyone for me."
"But it's so early," she protested.
You didn't care. You left and didn't turn back to see if a certain someone had noticed, no matter how badly you wanted to.
Instead of going home, though, you opted to sit on the steps in front of the building and finally let out the tears you'd been denying yourself for weeks. All of the emotions you'd been stuffing deep down inside bubbled up and spilled over, running down your cheeks and hitting the front of your dress.
You knew you looked like a mess, but with no one around to witness it, you figured you deserved to look a mess. You'd been held together for so long, like a porcelain doll put together with glue and a dream.
You sat there for so long that the sun finally dipped under the horizon, casting the nightly shadow across the street. It was only then that you felt the bite of the night wind against your bare skin and a shiver wracked your body.
Suddenly, you felt the weight of fabric as it was draped across your shoulders and you jumped, swiveling to look behind you.
To your surprise, Clark stood there, his suit jacket now on you.
"What--"
"It's a bit cold out here now," he said casually, looking out at the park across the street.
You blinked. "Uh, yeah. A bit."
He gestured to the stairs next to you. "May I?"
None of this made sense to you, but you scooched over a bit to make space for his larger body and he grunted as he sat down on the steps beside you, folding his hands between his knees.
The air crackled with tension, mostly from you, as you tried to figure out what to do about this sudden development. Should you say something? Keep the silence? Ask him to go?
Thankfully, you didn't have to do anything as Clark sighed. "I came to apologize."
Your eyebrows raised in bewilderment. "For what?"
"I didn't realize that you were... you." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you sheepishly. "Lois told me."
You internally cursed the woman.
"Honestly," he continued, "I don't know how I didn't see it immediately when you started with us. You haven't changed much."
You closed your eyes. "Ouch," you muttered.
"Not in a bad way," he said quickly, holding out a hand. "Just, like, you've clearly matured, but haven't completely changed your appearance or anything."
He did not.
He did not just say that.
"Are you serious," you asked, laughing dryly. "I haven't changed my appearance?"
Clark shrugged. "You still look like you to me."
"Well, apparently not if you didn't know who I was for the last month. And especially not if you haven't noticed me trying my hardest to get you to notice me. Dammit, Clark," you hissed, tears welling in your eyes again.
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
You swiped at the tears and laughed mirthlessly. "The outfits. The makeup. The smiles, the laughter, all of it was for you, you jerk."
"Me?" He had the audacity to look genuinely shocked.
You rolled your eyes. "Yes, you."
He blinked. "Why would you do all that for me?"
Your lip wobbled as you wiped another tear off your cheek. "Because I've had this stupid crush on you ever since middle school, and I was never able to get your attention back then, so I thought this would finally be my opportunity to get you to notice--maybe even like me." You threw your hands up in frustration. "But clearly, none of my efforts were good enough, because even after a month, someone had to tell you to take notice of me."
You didn't dare look at him while you spoke. This was probably your last chance to talk to him ever, after all, you would have to resign from the Daily Planet now. There was no way you would be able to keep working there after this, not when he was around.
Just as you opened your mouth to tell him just that, he started laughing. At first, just a light chuckle, and then it grew into a full-blown guffaw.
You snapped your head to stare at him incredulously. "Do you think this is funny?"
Clark immediately shook his head, still laughing. "No! Gosh, no. It's just..." He took a second to take in a breath before grinning at you. "I have noticed you. I do notice you. But I thought you were interested in someone else, so I never said anything. I didn't want to get in the way."
Your lips parted in surprise. "Who?"
He shook his head. "Jimmy."
Now your jaw was hanging wide open. "Jimmy?"
"You were always finding ways to come drop off papers at his desk, or bring him an item or article he needed," Clark said, his cheeks turning pink.
Realization clicked and you covered your face with your hands. "Clark," you groaned, "those were my excuses to stop by your desk. You know, the one right next to Jimmy?"
Understanding flashed over his face and he put his hand over his eyes. "I'm an idiot."
You giggled wetly, swiping the last remnants of tears off your face. "Just a little bit."
He peeked at you through his fingers. "So... You... Me... I mean..."
You wrapped your fingers around his jacket and pulled it closer to your body nervously. "Look, you know how I feel now. I-I'm not expecting anything from you, honestly, I'm probably going to quit at this rate and neither of us are going to have to do anything about this."
"What if I want to do something about this?"
You slowly looked over at him and saw his soft smile highlighted by his deepening blush. "Huh?"
"I notice you. I see how hard you work and how much time you put into making sure Alison's schedule is perfect every day. I see how efficient you are at emailing clients and sources, passing on information to us. I see how much you care about doing a good job." He looked away. "And of course, I notice how beautiful you are every single day. I'd have to be blind not to notice it."
You shook your head. "But--you've never said anything. At all. Not even tonight, when I was practically begging you to say something about my dress." You brushed your fingers across the fabric that was draped across your knees. "I spent hours picking it out," you said quietly.
Clark sighed, scratching his jaw. "Honestly, I thought that if you were into Jimmy, it would have been rude for me to do anything that you could consider flirting."
"Again, why Jimmy?"
He snorted. "You'd be surprised how many girls at work are head over heels for the guy."
"Hmm. Well, I'm not, so... you can compliment my dress now," you said, your cheeks turning crimson as you forced yourself to look calm and collected. You'd never dreamed of being so forward but something just felt right in the moment.
His lips quirked into a little smile, his adorable dimples showing as he pushed himself off the stairs and rose to his full height. He held out his hand to you and you slowly took it. He pulled you up to stand in front of him and took your hands in his.
His hands were so warm and soft, and you almost felt dizzy from how close you were all of a sudden.
Clark looked you up and down, blue eyes scanning you from head to toe. When he was looking at your face, you couldn't help but look down at the concrete. He hummed in thought, then smiled softly. "Beautiful. You are beautiful."
You snorted, though there was no real disdain in it. "You mean the dress is beautiful I'm a mess."
He tipped your chin up to look him dead in the eyes. "You. Are beautiful."
And for the first time in your entire life, you felt like Clark truly saw you.
Summary: You have a HUGE crush on your fellow Avenger, but have never gotten the guts to tell him. Instead, you write letters that you keep to yourself. Until one letter goes missing...
Warnings: one-sided pining (turns out it was mutual), elevator confrontation, mostly fluffy but with a bit of angst that mainly comes from the unrequited feelings
WC: 3.5k
Masterlist
When you joined the Avengers, you expected a life full of danger, intrigue, secrecy, and maybe comradery if you were lucky.
You never expected Bucky Barnes.
It didn't take you too long to figure out the rest of the Avengers, at least on a base level. Tony was brash and flippant, Steve had morals of steel, Bruce was awkward but brilliant, Natasha and Clint were watchful (yet somehow playful at the same time). But Bucky?
He was so hard to read. Quiet, brooding. He just stood off to the side during meetings listening but not saying much. When you had team dinners, he would have quiet conversations with Steve and Nat, but was never the life of the party.
He was hard to approach. During training sessions, you would ask him to help you out, and he never said no, but he was never eager to assist. Sometimes, you couldn't tell if he liked you or hated you.
But there was something about him.
The way his lips would twitch into the faintest ghost of a smile when the team was goofing off. The sparkle of pride in his eye when he saw his best friend come home after a difficult mission. Even the ferocity with which he fought to protect his teammates on the battlefield.
When you saw those moments, it was like you could see another side of him peeking through. A layer of softness that was trying to crack his hard shell.
You saw it especially well when you were just living your lives out in the Tower.
In the morning, you would spot him making a pot of coffee and cooking breakfast on the stove, and he just looked so... domestic. So normal. Or in the evening when Steve would turn on the news and they would sit and discuss current events, he looked like any other man.
And when he would help you with simple tasks, like grabbing a book off a high shelf, or fixing a door hinge that came loose, it took everything in you not to stare at the curves of his muscles as his arms flexed. You tried not to notice the way his lips would tense as he worked. You begged yourself not to peek as his shirt rose up an inch or two to show off his muscular abs.
But over time, you couldn't help it.
You couldn't help but be hyper-aware every time you were in the same room with him. You couldn't help the way your heart would leap for joy when you got assigned on the same missions, or when both of you didn't. Your breath would catch on the days he sat next to you at meal times, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
Not that you really wanted to.
A few months in, it started to feel stifling, these feelings you couldn't release. Your mind was filled with thoughts of him and nothing else, which was starting to show in your performance.
At first, it was simple mistakes, a missed cue, or an unnoticed shadow.
And then came the time when you got hit by a bullet because you were distracted by him.
Clint shoved you behind a wall and growled, "What is wrong with you?"
You cried out in pain and held your hand to your side, warm blood seeping through your fingers. "I-I'm sorry," you wheezed, "I thought I saw something."
"What could you have possibly seen that would override the guy right in front of you?!"
It took you three weeks to recover to a place where you could start participating in missions again. Three weeks where you barely saw Bucky while he was out in the field.
During those weeks, you bought a box and paper and just started writing. You started writing down all of your thoughts, all of your dreams, all of your fantasies. Every scenario that you fixated on when it came to Bucky was down on paper the same day. And each letter you finished found its home in a lovely little locked box that lived under your bed.
Your letters were your perfect safe haven. A place where you could be honest and free, and spill everything you wanted to without being judged or rejected.
They were your perfect secret.
---
Your breath came quickly as you tore your room apart. Your desk was a disaster, every piece of paper in the room was thrown onto it. The contents of your shelf were on the floor, your blanket was balled up on the corner of your bed.
Crouching down, you frantically searched under your bed. "Where is it," you muttered, shoving your hand out in hopes of feeling the crinkle of pink paper.
Nothing.
A knock sounded from the door. "Hey, you good in there?" Natasha's voice called.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I-I'm fine," you replied distractedly, hopping back up on your feet.
"You sure? I heard something bump against the wall."
"Yeah, that was my desk."
"...Why are you banging your desk against the wall?"
You rolled your eyes. "I lost something, I was looking behind it."
Natasha hummed. "What did you lose?"
You fiddled with your hands, floundering for something to say. No one knew about your letters. Not even Natasha, who was the closest thing you had to a friend among the Avengers. "Just, a personal item."
"Well, yeah, I assumed. Do you need help finding it?"
"No!" you said too quickly. "I mean, no, I got it. It's no biggie."
It was absolutely a biggie. This was the most recent addition to your letter collection, and was one of the most detailed you'd written to date. If anyone other than you found it, it was over for you. Months of hiding your feelings would go straight down the drain, and all your hopes of ever becoming more with Bucky would die with them.
After all, who would be interested in someone who's obsessed with them?
No. He could never know.
You huffed and threw your pillow across the room in frustration. Where could you have possibly left it? How could a piece of pink paper hide from you this well?
Natasha's voice came again. "One other thing, we'll be leaving for the gala in two hours, so make sure you're ready to go by then."
You winced. The gala. Right. "Got it. I'll be ready."
"See you then." You could hear her footsteps as she walked down the hall and let out a sigh.
Surely, you'd find it after the gala. Maybe it was hiding in plain sight and you'd only see it later.
Quickly, you showered and dressed in the shimmering gown Tony had picked out for you. You hated to admit anything that would inflate his ego, but damn it, he knew luxury fashion.
And damn it, he knew galas.
The moment you walked into the room, you were hit with the very image of wealth. Dozens of people in expensive dresses and suits that all screamed 'look at me!', waiters walking around with trays full of sparkling champagne that bubbled delicately. Golden light streaming from the beautiful chandeliers that were hung up above a dance floor.
Steve whistled from beside you. "He really outdid himself this time."
"Don't let him hear you say that," Bucky murmured softly from beside him.
You chuckled. "He'd never let you hear the end of it."
Bucky shot you a warm smirk and your stomach twisted. He was always handsome, but he looked positively stunning that night. His suit was perfectly tailored to accentuate his broad shoulders, the deep blue of the fabric making his eyes shine like an endless sky. His dark hair was swept back with gel, brushed and combed with care.
You wished you could run your hands through it.
"You look great, by the way," Bucky said casually. "The colour is nice."
Your cheeks flushed with heat as you glanced down at your outfit. "Oh, thank you. You look great too!"
He laughed. "Thanks, doll." He turned to Steve as you entered the hall, but you couldn't let go of that one word, that term of endearment that meant far more to you than it meant to him.
Doll.
You never heard him call anyone else doll. Giddily, you held that joy close to your chest as you joined in the party.
All through the night, your eyes struggled to stay on your conversation partners, drifting around the room until they landed on the only person you could actually pay attention to.
At one point, Natasha came over and gently bumped your shoulder, apologizing to the woman who was telling you all about her most recent mission to Dubai and whisking you away to a corner of the room.
"You know," she said quietly, keeping her eyes forward, "this wouldn't be a bad place to tell him."
You blinked. "What? Tell whom?"
She chuckled softly, her eyes crinkling with a lightness you rarely saw. "Bucky."
A cold hand gripped your heart and you took a step back. You'd never told her--anyone--about your feelings. "W-what are you talking about? What do I have to tell Bucky?"
Natasha waved her hand casually. "Nothing important, just that you're completely and utterly in love with him."
Your nervousness escaped your throat in a bark disguised as a laugh. "Nat, now is not the time for jokes."
"I'm not joking."
Your face cooled into a cold neutral expression. "Drop it."
"And let you keep pining over him from the shadows?" Natasha grabbed a champagne flute from a tray that was floating by and lifted it to her lips. "Did you forget that you live with a bunch of retired superspies? Did you really think we wouldn't notice?"
Your eyes widened. "You--Who--"
"Me. Clint." She sipped her drink. "Steve probably suspects but doesn't know for sure." When she lowered the glass, she tilted her head thoughtfully. "I think it's just us two."
"I can't believe--"
Your words were cut off by the loud squeak of a microphone. You swiveled to see Tony at the podium in all his couture glory, his wife Pepper right beside him.
Off to the side of the small stage, you could see Bucky and Steve standing at the ready. It was only then that you remembered Bucky was going to be giving the welcoming speech tonight. You even sat down with him last night and helped him write it for hours. He'd been so adorably nervous about making one of his first public addresses as an Avenger.
Bucky's eyes caught yours and he gave you a smile, holding up his speech in his hand to show you.
You started to smile back when you saw the pink paper on the bottom of his stack and your face froze.
Oh. Oh god, no.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Tony started. "As much as I'd like to be the one to thank you all for coming to this event, let's be honest, you should be thanking me for the invite."
A light chuckle echoed around the room.
Pepper took the podium, shooting Tony a warning look. "This team, these Avengers, are proud beyond measure to serve you as Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Here to say more is our very own Bucky Barnes."
You watched as Bucky took to the podium and tapped the papers on the wood. Your heart started to beat wildly. That pink paper on the bottom of the stack. That was yours. That was your letter.
It must have gotten stuck to something when you went to help him write the speech last night, it had to have. How else could he have it right there in his hands?
He started to speak, but you couldn't hear a thing through the blood rushing through your ears. The world started to spin, and you needed to throw up. But you couldn't run. There were too many people, too many eyes. He would notice you sprinting away from the speech he worked so hard on. You couldn't do that to him.
But every second that dragged on brought you closer and closer to your doom. Every page he flipped brought him closer and closer to your biggest secret.
When he finished the last page of his actual speech, he paused, sliding the pink paper out from behind it.
Nope.
You couldn't do this.
You refused to. Refused to watch his eyes turn hard and cold, refused to see the confusion turn into horror. Refused to watch as he turned his eyes to meet yours in question and in pity.
And so you turned away and started to leave. You sat through the speech, now you could go, right?
Quietly, you pulled yourself away from Natasha's side and started to weave your way through the crowd of patrons who were starting to mingle again after the speech was done. You made it all the way to the elevator and managed to push the down button before you heard him.
His footsteps echoed down the hallway as he ran after you, his breaths coming quickly and shallow. "Wait," he called after you, slowing down to a quick walk.
You pressed the button again, refusing to look back. Come on, you thought. Come faster!
Bucky called your name and stopped a few feet away from you. "We gotta talk."
"Nope," you said as the elevator doors opened. "I'm not talking about anything. I am packing my things and moving to Belize."
You stepped in and tried to press the Lobby button and close the door, but Bucky stuck his hand in between the doors and they opened again. Fear flooded your system as he stepped inside with you. You were so completely unprepared to have this conversation ever, much less right this second. Your hands grew clammy and you forced them into a neat fold in front of you.
The doors closed and the elevator started to move.
You could feel his gaze on you, even as you refused to look his way.
"You really want to do it like this?" he asked, something sharp in his voice.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, crossing your arms.
He huffed out a breath and reached over to press the stop button. Your eyes widened. "Hey, what are you doing?"
"If I let you off this elevator down there, you're going to run away from me. You're going to run away from this." He held up a piece of pink paper and your cheeks heated to a crimson hue.
Your eyes were glued to the paper. "Give that back," you said halfheartedly.
Bucky shook his head. "Not until we discuss this."
You threw up your hands exasperatedly. "What is there to discuss?"
He opened his mouth and then hesitated, like he was editing his thoughts on the spot. "Why was your--why was this in my script?"
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. "I don't know. It wasn't supposed to be, it was supposed to be in my room with the rest of them. Hidden. Never to be seen by anyone except me and an eventual fireplace."
"...There are others?"
Realization at what you'd revealed shook you out of your pity party and you turned around to face the wall, dropping your head into your hands. "Forget I said that."
"I don't think I can. How many have you written?"
"Oh, what does it matter, Bucky?" You whipped around to face him, your eyes wet with unshed tears. "They were supposed to be for me. Just for me. So I could... unload onto something that wouldn't care."
Suddenly the tears were no longer unshed, hot and wet as they dripped down your cheeks. "I-I... I'm sorry, you weren't supposed to-to see any of them." Your breaths were uneven as they filled with your tears.
He froze, his hand trembling slightly as it held onto your letter. Slowly, he looked from the letter to you. "So, everything in here is real?"
You closed your eyes and nodded. "I know it isn't fair to you, and I'm sorry. I wanted to just keep this to myself, but I can't even do that right."
"Why didn't you tell me?" his voice was soft as he took a few steps in your direction.
You pressed yourself back against the wall, creating space between you again. An incredulous laugh bubbled up inside of you. "What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, Bucky, I know we don't talk a whole lot but I've had a crush on you for the last eight months and don't have the balls to ask you out!' I couldn't do that! I can barely ask Tony to get me take out most days."
You heard him make a sound, a sound that you quickly realized was him trying to cover up a laugh. "You're laughing at me," you said in disbelief. "My biggest secret comes to light and you're laughing at me!"
"Ten months."
You stared at him like he'd just grown a second head. "Excuse me?"
"I've liked you for ten months." He took another step closer to you, your letter still clutched gently in his hand like he was afraid to wrinkle it. "I didn't say anything because... I was sure someone like you would have been happier with someone else."
All you could do was blink. What was he saying?
He took another step closer. He was so close you could smell his cologne, deep and mesmerizing. Bucky took his hand and lifted your chin up gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes.
"Every time I see you, I want to scream my feelings out in to the world, to tell you the truth and run into your arms, but I'm so scared about what you might say," he quoted, reading from your letter. "You wrote that about me? "
A stray tear fell from the corner of your eye and you tried to turn away from him, but he didn't let you, just held your face firmly in place before sliding his hand up your jaw to brush the tear away with his thumb. The heat from his hands sent shivers down your spine. You gave him a small nod.
Part of you thought that he was trying to gently let you down, or tell you that you would always be friends but he was interested in someone else. There was no part of you that was ready for him to lean down and kiss you.
Your eyes widened in surprise, but when you felt him lean into you, you couldn't help but melt into him. His lips were soft and warm, full of a desperate longing that was so familiar you couldn't tell if it came from you or from him. Your head felt like it was full of air, floating away into pure bliss.
How long had you dreamed of this moment? How many nights had you stayed awake wondering what it would be like for him to be sleeping next to you? How many movie nights did you spend thinking about what it would be like if he sat next to you, close enough for you to feel his warmth?
And now, his warmth was all over you. His right hand held your face gently like he was afraid he was going to lose you, his left arm curled around your waist to pull you in tighter. His lips moved against yours, slowly at first, then quicker, fiercer with every second you didn't pull away. Your heart felt like it was beating so fast it would stop any moment now.
When you started to feel lightheaded, you pulled away, breath heaving as you tried to force oxygen into your lungs. Your lips felt swollen and heavy, and when you risked a glance up at him, he looked the same, his beautiful lips curved into a small smile.
If your cheeks could burst into flames, they would have at that exact moment.
"That was..." you breathed. "Why did you--"
"I have spent months dreaming of doing that," he whispered, placing his forehead against yours. "I never once thought I'd actually get to. Not until I saw the letter. I couldn't let you run away from me, not when I finally had a chance."
You let out a nervous giggle. "You really... like me?"
"Doll, I've liked you since the day you walked into the compound." He brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, but kept his hand near your face. "I... I know I'm not good at talking about feelings, not as good as Steve at least, but... I really like you. And I-I would love to take you out for dinner. If that sounds okay to you."
You grabbed him by the collar of his suit jacket and pulled him down into another kiss.
He smiled against your lips. "I'll take that as a yes."
A/N ngl not my best work but I couldn't get it out of my headddddd
You were pretty sure nothing could have ruined your day when you walked into the elevator at the Daily Planet on your first day as a real, professional journalist.
You made sure nothing could ruin your day.
The night before, you had spent two hours picking out your first week of outfits to make sure that no matter who was on or off on any given day during that time would have a stellar first impression of you.
Every skirt, every dress, every pressed blouse was meticulously selected to give you the best chance at making everyone like you. And if they didn't like you right away, they would at least have nothing to say against you.
You set not one, not two, but three alarms in different areas around your apartment to ensure that you got up on time.
You even walked the route from your place to the Daily Planet the day before to make sure you wouldn't get lost along the way.
It was imperative that this first day go off without a hitch. If it was under your control, you knew about it and made a plan for it, a back up plan, and a back up plan for your backup plan.
This was your opportunity. The chance to prove to everyone who doubted you that journalism was not a waste of time, that all the years you spent in school writing essays and articles, researching and staying up night after night was not in vain.
This was your chance to prove that you were good enough to make it in a "dying industry", or so they called it.
And yet, the instant you walked out the elevator onto the main floor, everything started to fall apart.
You adjusted the folder of papers you clutched in your hands and tried not to look as nervous as you felt. There were only two other people in the elevator, but even they had to believe you were as put together as you wanted to appear.
The doors of the elevator slid open, and you took a deep breath before confidently taking a step out and immediately colliding with someone on their phone trying to get in.
It happened so fast you didn't have a chance to react, and in the blink of an eye, your folder was flying. You let out a cry as the papers scattered all over the floor. The man who bumped into you offered an offhanded apology as he rushed into the elevator.
You scrambled to pick up the papers, cursing the fact that you didn't glue them into the binder before straightening up quickly, eyes on the swivel to see if anyone had noticed.
If they did, no one said anything, and you let out a huff, tucking the papers gently back into their places in the folder and holding it tightly to your chest.
The welcome email they'd sent you had told you to go to a Mr. Perry White's office when you arrived, so you quickly made your way to the room they'd listed.
You arrived ten minutes before you technically started, which made Perry (he insisted you call him by his first name) raise an eyebrow. "Punctual. I like to see it."
"I always learned that early is on time and on time is late," you replied, trying not to smile to widely at the praise.
He nodded, shaking a pen at you. "It's advice like that that'll keep you afloat in this business. Follow me, I'll show you to your desk."
Perry guided you through the various cubicles and departments in the Daily Planet and you couldn't help but notice just how lively the place was. The air was filled with quiet chatter from all of the writers and editors discussing their articles, the clicking of heels on the floor, scraping of chairs being pushed back or in. The nervousness you'd been feeling all morning started to ebb away.
He paused in front of a desk that had piles of papers scattered all over it. Perry threw his hands up in the air, turning in a circle. "Who put this here?" he bellowed, glancing around at the people sitting at desks nearby.
A pretty woman in a low cut blouse spoke without looking up as she typed away on her computer. "I think Johnson put those there."
"We have someone new starting today, this is supposed to be her desk," Perry sighed. "Get Johnson to find a new place for all of this."
"I'll let him know when I see him next," she replied, finally glancing up. "I think the desk next to Clark's is open though."
"Fine, that'll do for now." Perry shook his head in annoyance. "Sorry about that, we'll get that cleared off for you. The desk by Clark is a bit smaller, but we'll make it work until yours is empty."
You nodded. "That's fine by me." You looked wistfully at the lovely, large desk covered in someone else's crap before turning and following Perry over to a much smaller desk, probably about half the size. You tried not to look sad as you placed your folder and bag down on the desk. It was only temporary, you told yourself.
"Clark will be your mentor for your first few weeks," Perry said. "He should be in..." He checked his watch and sighed deeply. "He was supposed to be in two minutes ago. Anyway, he'll be here soon. He'll show you the ropes and get you set up, alright?"
"Yes. Thank you, sir."
"Perry," he corrected.
You laughed nervously. "Thank you, Perry."
He nodded and headed back to his office. You shifted your jacket off and put it on the back of the chair. What were you supposed to do in the meantime?
You fiddled with your coffee mug before drinking the remaining coffee. It wasn't enough. You needed more. A quick glance around the room and you spotted the coffee machine on a counter by the wall.
You made your way over and started making yourself a new cup of coffee, making it just the way you love. As you stirred your coffee, you turned to grab the lid of your travel mug and bumped into another person... again.
This time, it almost felt like slow motion watching the coffee get jostled out of your hand and spill all over the front of your shirt. The deep brown soaked into the fabric and you yelped, trying to hold the now steaming-hot shirt away from your skin.
The woman you bumped into gasped. "I'm so sorry," she said, grabbing a handful of napkins and trying to dab away the coffee. She was beautiful, with long, dark hair and bright blue eyes full of apology.
At least she was sorry, unlike the last guy.
You shook your head, taking the napkins from her. "It-It's okay, it happens," you said, forcing a smile. "I should have a spare shirt anyway, just in case."
"Oh good," she breathed out. "I would have felt awful." The woman paused. "I don't think I've seen you around here before, are you new?"
You nodded. "Today is my first day."
She winced. "Wow. Great welcome, huh? It's nice to meet you. I'm Lois, and I'm so sorry."
You introduced yourself and tried to give her the warmest smile you could muster. "It's okay. No big deal. Let me just, uh, go change out of this shirt."
Her eyes widened. "Yes, yes, of course, you do that. Sorry for holding you up. And the whole coffee thing. I'll make you a new one while you get changed."
"Thank you, Lois." You shuffled back over to your desk as you dabbed at the coffee stain that would definitely be there until you managed to throw it in a washing machine. When you got back and started sifting through your bag, panic tore through your core.
You knew you'd prepared a spare set of clothes. You remember distinctly picking out a nice blouse and extra skirt and putting it on your... dining room table... where it was probably still sitting.
Your head drooped at the realization that you did not in fact have a spare change of clothes. Glancing down, you knew there was no salvaging this shirt, the stain was all the way from your collar to your navel.
Just your luck, you thought. You could prepare for every bad thing to happen and still get the short end of the stick.
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and you forced yourself to take a deep breath. This was not the time to start crying. It was your first day at your amazing, incredible dream job. You couldn't let something as small as a coffee stain ruin your day. Pressing your fingers to your eyes, you pulled yourself together and shook your head.
Reset.
Breathe.
You're fine.
You tugged on your jacket and zipped it up. It may not have been the most fashionable choice, but at least when you went around meeting new people, they wouldn't be stuck staring at the stain on your chest instead of your face.
"KENT!" you heard Perry call out from across the bullpen. "You're six minutes late!"
A man's voice called out in answer from the elevator. "I know, sorry, Perry. I was having car troubles."
"You walk to work."
"It was, uh, my neighbour's car."
"Sure it was. Just get to work. You have the newbie waiting for you at your desk."
The newbie. That was you. You straightened up a little, folding your hands politely in your lap and tried not to look too eager to meet your new co-worker.
When he rounded the corner, you could feel your breath catch. A tall, broad man with an old brown work bag came to a stop, breathing hard. His chest heaved under his wrinkled white button up and blue blazer, and you could tell he was far more muscular than his outfit would suggest. His dark curly hair was messily styled, a few curls hanging down in front of his thick-rimmed black glasses that did nothing to hide his gorgeous blue eyes. Sharp jaw, full lips, he may have been the most beautiful man you'd ever seen.
When his gaze met yours, he smiled brightly. "Hi, there. It's nice to meet you, I'm Clark." He stuck out his hand to shake yours.
You shook his hand and blinked before introducing yourself, your cheeks heating at the warmth of his hand. This was your mentor?
Maybe your luck hadn't run out quite yet.
He put his things down on the desk and fell into his seat, letting out a breath. "Let me just, uh, get settled and I can help you get your accounts organized, okay?"
You nodded eagerly. "That sounds great."
He shot another smile at you and you could have sworn your heart started pounding out of your chest so loudly everyone around you could hear it.
Clark's head twitched in your direction before he logged into his computer. "Uh, are you okay?"
"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, frowning. "Why?"
He shook his head. "Nothing, just, uh, making sure. First day jitters and all that."
"Ah, yeah, no I'm alright. Had a few interesting interactions this morning, but I'm here ready to go. What else could I ask for?"
Clark smiled gently. "Good, I'm glad. I hope you like it here."
Out of the corner of your eye, something started moving closer and you turned to see Lois coming your way with a steaming cup. She placed it on your desk in front of you and grinned. "A brand new cup of coffee just for you." She frowned as she took a longer look at you. "You didn't change."
The pink flush that was spreading across your face intensified to a deep crimson as your eyes flickered over to Clark, who was listening in curiously.
"Did something happen?" he asked Lois.
She sighed. "I accidentally spilled her entire coffee all over her before you got here."
"Again?"
Lois narrowed her eyes at him and lightly smacked the back of his head. "It's only happened once before!"
He winced and chuckled lightly. "Yeah, and I had to spend the rest of the day with a coffee stain on my pants in a very awkward place."
"And I apologized like forty times for it!" Lois threw her hands up in the air. "I just can't win here. Anyway, enjoy your coffee, I hope this time you actually get to drink it," she said, smiling at you before turning and sitting down at a desk on the other side of the walkway.
Clark shook his head in amusement before gesturing at the coffee. "I'd be careful about that, by the way. Lois has a very different palate than every other person I've met."
You frowned. "What do you mean?"
He laughed. "Taste it and find out."
Cautiously, you took a sip and were hit with a blast of almost pure sugar. You nearly spit it out, but managed to swallow it. "Holy--"
"Yeah."
"And she actually drinks this?"
"She probably toned it down for you." He rolled his chair over to you and your heart suddenly started to race again. "Okay, you ready to get started?"
"Absolutely," you said, far to quickly.
He pursed his lips as he tried to hold a laugh in. "You must be really excited to write, huh?"
You weren't sure if your face could get much redder, and this stunning god of a man wasn't helping. "Yeah. So excited. For the writing."
Definitely not the fact that you'd be working alongside him.
"Great. I look forward to working with you," he said, genuinely sounding like he was excited to write articles with you.
A smile crept across your face. Your first day may have started off on the wrong foot, but you were starting to get a feeling that every day after would be much, much better.
Summary: You just moved to New York to follow your passion as a photographer, but your day job as a barista becomes increasingly interesting as more and more unusual patrons start frequenting the coffee shop. Especially one newly declared Avenger...
A/N: I recently realized that the way I've been envisioning the Tower is not the same as how it's depicted in the movie, so... bear with me ;-;
Word count: 2k
OUACS Masterlist ~ Previous Chapter
Main Masterlist
A beam of sunlight woke you and you slowly opened your eyes, squinting into the bright light that was peeking through a crack in the blinds. You blinked drowsily and looked around.
You were in a room you didn't recognize. It almost looked like a fancy university dorm room, the walls painted a tasteful cream colour. It was a huge room, though it didn't have very much furniture. Just the bed you were laying in, a desk off to the side, and a sitting area on the far side of the room with a couch and coffee table. On the other side of the room there was a door that you could just barely see a mirror in. A bathroom, if you had to guess.
Slowly, you pushed yourself into a sitting position. You couldn't hear anything besides the rustling of the blankets, which was almost scarier than not knowing where you were.
Squinting, you tried to recall how you got here. The last thing you remembered was Bucky Barnes of the New Avengers rescuing you from that room.
A shiver ran up your spine at the memory.
You pulled the covers off of you as you swung your legs off the side of the bed and stood up. You were dressed in a simple nightgown, and your cheeks warmed at the realization that someone had changed you.
Looking around, you saw a pile of clothes sitting on the desk and quickly dressed, surprised to find that they were all your size. You supposed that if they had taken the liberty to dress you, they had also taken note of what size you likely wore.
You wrinkled your nose at the thought. The clothes were comfortable, though. A pair of soft pants and a loose t-shirt. You folded the nightgown and placed it on the bed.
There was another door off to your right, this one closed. Quietly, you padded over to the door and pressed your ear against it. It was faint, but you could hear voices in the distance. A man and a woman.
The metal of the doorknob was cold as you closed your fingers around it, slowly opening the door as quietly as you could.
Outside the door was a hallway. You could see several other doors lining the hallway, though none of them were open. At the end of the hallway was a window, and you could see blue sky beyond a cityscape. You were high up, that much you could tell. When you turned to look the other direction, you saw that the hallway opened up into a much larger area.
Slowly, you crept down the hallway, keeping to the wall.
"-supposed to let her run around?" the woman's sharp voice echoed off the walls.
"I'm not going to let you dispose of her," the man replied brusquely.
Heels clicked against the floor. "Then what would you suggest?"
The man sighed. "I think she should stay here."
You came to the edge of the hallway and peeked around the corner. The room was huge, a large dining table that could fit at least twelve people at it was right to your left. Across the room was a massive TV with some couches and a coffee table. On the other side was an open concept kitchen with an island and a few stools set up.
It was in this kitchen that you could finally see the people talking. Bucky stood tall at the edge of the counter as a woman grabbed a bottle of amber liquid out of the cabinet. The woman was dressed head to toe in black, her blazer ironed crisply, black heels clicking as she turned.
She unscrewed the top of the bottle and started to pour herself a drink. The woman had shoulder-length brown hair with two white chunks framing her face where her mouth was tensed into a thin line, eyes sharp as she turned back to Bucky. "Absolutely not."
"If we let her go home, they already know where she lives, she's not safe."
"Well, that's unfortunate. And also not our problem." She took a sip of her drink and winced at the taste. "What did Alexei do to this?"
Bucky shrugged distractedly. "Who knows. And it is our problem. Aside from how it would look from a PR perspective, she knows about Bob. She's now someone we have to be concerned about from a security standpoint."
The woman bobbed her head in understanding. "Then let's take her out back."
"She's a civilian, Valentina, not a dog. And I already told you that none of us are willing to dispose of her. Multiple times."
The woman, Valentina, sighed dramatically. "So, you want me to use valuable tax dollars to house some random woman who saw too much one day? What's she going to do? Sit around watching TV?"
He scoffed. "We can't keep her from working."
Her eyes widened. "Your honest-to-god solution is to give this woman house and board as, what, a trade for her silence? What would keep her from going to the press anyway?"
"You wouldn't do that, would you?" a sudden female voice said from behind you.
Your head swiveled to face the woman who was crouched right above you, her face only inches away, and couldn't contain the scream that escaped your throat as you fell backwards.
Valentina and Bucky were on you instantly.
"You," Valentina sneered. "Were you spying on us?"
"I-I wasn't spying!" you spluttered. "I just woke up and heard you--"
"And failed to make yourself known," she finished. "Ava, how long was she listening?"
The woman behind you, a tan woman with long brown hair pulled into a ponytail said, "Only a few minutes." She had an accent, British, you thought.
Your head whipped around. "You were watching me?"
"You were watching them," she retorted.
Valentina crouched down in front of you and grabbed your chin in her fingers, pulling your face to look at her. "Who do you work for?"
You could feel your body trembling. Her brown eyes bored holes into your skull. "I don't work for anyone," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I work at a coffee shop, ma'am, I take pictures, I'm not a spy."
"I'm telling you, Val, she's just a civilian," Bucky said again, pulling Valentina off of you. "She needs our protection, not whatever this is."
The older woman huffed, but straightened up. "What is your name," she said, looking down at you.
You scrambled to your feet and took a step back, not meeting her gaze as you told her.
"I'm going to run a background check on you and everyone you've interacted with in the last week, and if I find a single person with connections to any of the groups that have it out for us," she started, taking a step towards you, "you're finished."
You nodded.
"Until then," Valentina continued, "you call into work sick, and that is the only call you make. No contacting any of your colleagues or family until we confirm you really are 'just a civilian'. You are to stay in this building where someone can see you, and you do. Not. Leave. Am I clear?"
"Crystal."
She hummed in disdain but looked at the other woman, Ava. "You're in charge of keeping her here, got it?"
"Got it," Ava replied, leaning back against the wall. "No leaving, no calls."
Valentina started to walk out towards what looked like an elevator on the far wall and called out behind her, "Be back in a few hours, don't kill each other while I'm gone."
"We never do," Ava muttered under her breath. Then she turned to you. "So, you're the one Bucky and Bob saw the other day."
Bucky nodded. "Yup."
"The same one who makes the best 'milkless latte' John's ever had?"
"Is that what he called it?" you asked, your voice still a bit shaky. "It's just a double espresso."
Ava shrugged and wandered over to the couches. "That's what he said."
"Where are you going?" you asked, watching her flop onto a loveseat.
She turned back and looked at you with a confused expression. "...Sitting on my couch?"
"Aren't you supposed to, like, watch me or something?"
Ava sighed and let her head rest on the cushion. "That's what Valentina wants me to do, but I highly doubt you'd try to escape this place. You couldn't even escape a crack house."
Is that where I was? you wondered, thinking back to where you were held.
Bucky shuffled beside you and your body tensed. He was tall, taller than you remembered, and muscular. His black long-sleeve shirt did nothing to hide his flexed biceps as he crossed his arms. "Sorry about that," he said quietly. "I didn't know you'd wake up so soon?"
You shook your head. "It's... it's fine. Uh, how long have I been here?"
He gestured to the chairs at the dining room table and you moved to take a seat. "We found you at about two in the morning last night. It's almost noon."
You groaned and put your face in your hands. "My boss is gonna kill me. I need to call in."
Bucky pulled your cellphone out of his pocket and slid it across the table to you. "Go ahead."
Confusion grew on your face. "What happened to no calls?"
"That's what Val said, but she also told you to call in sick, so," Ava called from across the room, "do what you need to, I won't tell."
A small smile cracked across your lips and you took the phone to call your boss.
He wasn't happy about your no-show today, but quickly forgave you when you started to fake cough. Even told you not to come in the next day either.
When you hung up, you sighed deeply. "Well, that's that."
***
Two hours later, Valentina strutted back onto the floor, a much more refined air about her. She saw you sitting on the couch with Ava and stopped at the arm. You tensed immediately as you looked up at her. Something about this woman felt wrong; she was so sharp, so unreadable.
She put her hands on her hips and leaned in. "Alright, here's the deal," Valentina said firmly. "I'll allow you to stay here on three conditions. One, if you need to go somewhere that isn't this tower, you have a chaperone. I don't need you having secret meet-ups with the press or our enemies. Two, you sign a non-disclosure agreement to never speak of anything that happens in this tower to anyone. Three--"
"Doesn't that make the first point invalid?" Ava interrupted, lazily glancing up at the woman. "If she signs an NDA, she can't say anything to anyone."
Val pursed her lips. "Don't interrupt me, Ava. And just because you sign a contract doesn't stop you from breaking it."
Ava raised her hands in surrender. "Fair point."
"As I was saying," Val continued, flipping her white curl behind her shoulder. "Three, this agreement is only valid until we are able to develop a way of controlling Bob's powers. The only reason we have to be so careful right now is because we don't have the answers we need. As soon as those answers come along, you are out. Understood?"
You nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Your voice shook and you winced at yourself.
"Good. I'll have my assistant Mel bring you the papers before the end of the night." She turned to leave, then hesitated and turned back, a smile on her face that looked more predatory than warm. "I hope you enjoy your stay here."
You watched the woman click away and let out the breath you'd been holding in.
Ava smirked. "Don't worry, it's all for show. You'll get used to her."
"I wish I didn't have to," you muttered.
"Well, welcome to the tower, roomie," she laughed dryly.
Fluffy niceness, Bucky is a bit awkward but does his best
When you're feeling down, Bucky can tell, but your relationship is so new that he isn't always sure what to do to make you feel better, so he goes to Steve for some advice.
WC: 950
Masterlist
When you came into the Avengers tower with that frown on your face, Bucky immediately knew something was wrong. He rose from his place at the couch and came over to you.
"What's wrong?" he demanded.
You shook your head tiredly. "Nothing, I'm fine."
He raised his hands to cup your face and you turned into their warmth. "Are you sure?"
You nodded. "I'm sure. Just a long day."
"Been a lot of long days lately, sweetheart."
Shrugging, you broke out of his grasp. "Work is like that sometimes, I dunno."
You turned away from him and headed into the kitchen. He couldn't help but watch you.
Something about the way that you said it, or the way you looked away from him and couldn't meet his gaze made Bucky tense. He could tell you weren't telling the full truth, but what was he supposed to do, straight up accuse you of lying to his face?
You'd only been dating for about a month now, it didn't feel like you were quite at the stage where he could expect you to lay it all out for him one hundred percent of the time. But still, he'd hoped you would have trusted him enough at this point to feel comfortable telling him when you were struggling.
Then again, he hadn't gotten to the point where he had fully come clean about the ways he struggled either.
He let out a breath. "Do you want me to make you dinner?" he offered, joining you in the kitchen.
You shook your head. "No, that's okay. I'd like to tonight, if that's okay. It'll help me wind down."
He frowned, taken aback but tried to hide it. "Oh, okay. Yeah, no, that's fine."
Bucky waited a moment for you to change your mind, but when you started to pull out the pots and pans, he decided to let you have the space you wanted.
He found himself knocking on Steve's door a few moments later. Steve opened the door to see Bucky's furrowed brows and sighed. "What's the matter, Buck?"
"I don't know what to do. She had a bad day, but doesn't want me to do anything about it," Bucky said, walking past Steve into the room and sitting down on the bed with a huff. "She didn't even want me to make dinner, she wanted to do it. Alone."
Steve whistled. "Well, sometimes you just need space after a rough day."
Bucky nodded. "And I get that. But I feel so useless."
"Well, you could always get her something. If she doesn't want you to do something, a simple gesture would be good to show her you see and understand her."
Steve sat down next to Bucky, who looked over with a sigh. "Like what?"
He thought for a second then smiled at his friend. "I have something in mind."
-----
The next day, when you came home from work and walked into your room, you froze. Your room was never heavily decorated, so the burst of colour from the flowers on your desk stood out immediately. You slowly set your bag down and approached the vase.
The flower arrangement was vibrant and lively, your favourite colour. You reached out and gently stroked one of the soft petals. Sticking out of the vase was a small stick with a note attached. You pulled it out and read it:
To brighten up your day ~ Your Bucky
You giggled and bent down to smell the flowers. They were fragrant and beautiful.
"I, uh, thought it might be nice to spruce up the space," a voice said from behind you.
You turned to see Bucky awkwardly standing in the doorway, eyes locked on the flowers. "Hey," you greeted.
"Hey." He took a few steps over to you. "Do you, uh. You know, like them? If not, I can take them back. Well, maybe not back, but I can take them away. It was Steve's idea, he thought you'd like them. If not, I--"
You stopped him with your hands on his cheeks, pulling his face into yours for a kiss. He quickly melted into the kiss, his hands coming to rest on your waist. When you pulled away, you giggled at the deepening pink of his blush. "I love them," you said, glancing back at the bouquet. "What are they for?"
"You had a rough day yesterday, and I, just... didn't know what to do for you. You didn't need anything from me, but I still wanted to do something. I figured something like this could be a reminder that even if you have a bad day at work, there are beautiful things waiting for you at home." He looked down at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and you felt your cheeks growing warm.
You let out a little laugh. "I mean, yeah, my day wasn't great, but you didn't need to."
He shrugged. "I know. I wanted to."
"Well, they are beautiful. And whenever I see them, I'll think of my Bucky," you said, your lips stretching into a smile as you thought of his note.
A cough escaped Bucky's throat as he looked away. "Was that too much?" he asked, his eyes catching on the note that was now resting on the top of the desk.
You shook your head. "Not at all. I quite like the sound of it."
"Does that mean I get to call you mine too?" he asked. He tested it out a few times, letting your name linger on his tongue like a sweet he didn't want to finish eating.
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his body, tucking your head into his chest. "You are ridiculous."
Summary: You just moved to New York to follow your passion as a photographer, but your day job as a barista becomes increasingly interesting as more and more unusual patrons start frequenting the coffee shop. Especially one newly declared Avenger...
The last week had been the most nerve wracking week of your life. Every day you walked to work looking over your shoulder every few seconds. You couldn't tell if you were being followed, or watched, and worse than that, you didn't know what you would do if you were.
Anne had been incredibly disappointed to hear that the rest of the New Avengers had not made their way into the coffee shop, and that she was doomed to only have two selfies with the heroes. And while there were no more visits from them, you could feel that they were still around.
Sometimes, you thought you saw a flash of red around a corner, or a glint of metal in the sunlight, but it would be gone so fast you convinced yourself it was nothing.
You were totally normal.
So very normal.
The most normal person that had ever lived in New York...
Of course, that normalcy had to come to an end at some point. On a beautiful sunny Tuesday of all days.
You'd found yourself in Bryant Park with your camera trying to get some shots of the fountain. So far, they were turning out wonderfully, the sun glinting off the water like diamonds in the light. The park was crowded, which made you feel a bit safer about being outside. With so many people around, it was unlikely that anyone would try to come and attack you, right?
You focused the lens of your camera on the falling water and pressed the shutter button. The camera clicked and you looked at the screen to see the image. It wasn't quite right.
You refocused it and took one step back. Your back hit something hard and you jumped, turning to see a man behind you, looking the other way.
He was tall and broad, with sunglasses and a hat obscuring most of his face. He turned to look at you and you could see a distinct scar peeking out from beneath his sunglasses on his left cheek.
Your blood froze and you stepped back. "Sorry!" you squeaked.
The man tipped his glasses down and his piercing blue eyes met yours. "Watch where you're going, lady."
"Yes! Sorry, my bad."
He shook his head. "Damn tourists."
Your face heated in embarrassment and you looked around to see if anyone else had seen the exchange. Luckily for you, no one cared.
It must be a New Yorker thing.
Stepping around the fountain to the opposite side, you tried to take a few more shots, but your hands were shaking. You let your camera rest against your chest, the strap hanging around your neck heavily. It irritated you that you couldn't even go to the park without getting scared that someone was going to jump you for simply existing. How were you possibly going to become a photographer if you couldn't calm down enough to take photos?
You shook out your hands and took a deep breath.
You're safe, you told yourself. There's probably an avenger stalking you from behind a tree somewhere keeping tabs on you.
Somehow, that thought did not make you feel any safer.
Shaking your head, you picked up your camera and brought it up to focus your next shot. Just one or two more and you'd call it a day.
When you looked through the viewfinder, you expected to see the fountain. And you did. But you also saw the scarred man watching you from across the water.
A jolt of electricity ran through your bones and you put the camera down. You needed to go. This was what Bucky had warned you about. People wanting you for the information you knew about Bob. What he did. What he could do.
You looked at your camera with shaking hands and pulled out the battery, looking at it like it had done something wrong. You let out an audible tsk and put it back, swinging your camera bag around from behind you and starting to put your camera away.
You prayed that the man wouldn't realize that you had recognized his intentions, and would be too late to react to how fast you were about to run.
Zipping up your camera bag, you slung it back around your shoulders. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, quickly dialing Anne's number. She was the only one you could think of who might be available at 3pm on a Tuesday.
The phone rang as you started to walk out of the park, not wasting a glance on the man whom you were sure had already started to move behind you. Your heart beat so loudly you could hear it in your ears as you begged her to pick up the phone.
The phone rang... and rang... and rang...
Dammit, Anne, you thought.
"Hey, girl," you said aloud as the answering machine started to beep. "Are you still wanting me to come by to help with that assignment you were working on?"
You were almost at the edge of the park now. You could definitely hear his footsteps behind you, slow, but present.
The fence was just a few steps away now. Ahead of you, the traffic light was still green, and you sped up. So did he.
"Regular milk or low fat?" you continued, forcing your voice not to wobble.
The pedestrian light started flashing red and your heartbeat sped up. No, not now, you had to make it across the street. If you could get across, you might be able to lose him.
"Got it, I should be there in just ten minutes, okay? If I'm not there in ten minutes, call me back!" you said loud enough for the man behind you to hear. You hoped that Anne would listen to the voicemail and realize something was wrong. After all, you had never called her before.
You reached the edge of the sidewalk just as the pedestrian light turned solid red and the traffic light turned yellow. You swore internally as you came to a stop beside a woman and her stroller, your breath coming a bit too quickly.
When the footsteps stopped behind you, you could have sworn your heart stopped along with them. Your breath caught as a voice spoke from right beside your ear.
"You're not very good at this escape thing, are you sweetie?" the man said, his voice low enough that no one around you could hear.
You almost pulled away when you felt something hard press into your ribs. It didn't take you long to feel the prick of the blade and realize what it was.
"You're going to come with me, dearie. No shouting, no fighting, no struggle. Not if you want to keep your organs intact."
You stiffened at his words and risked a slow glance back at him. He was staring forward with a completely neutral face, like he wasn't threatening your life.
"In ten seconds, a car is going to pull up on the curb to your left. You're going to get in that car."
"What are you going to do with me?"
"Oh, I just want to talk."
You scoffed. "Talk. That's it?"
"That's it." He shrugged. "Nothing wild, just a chat."
"And you thought you needed to hold me at knifepoint to have a chat." You shook your head as subtly as you could. "I don't believe you."
The man nodded at a car that had rolled to a stop a few feet away from both of you and pressed the knife into your side just enough to make you squirm. "Doesn't matter if you believe me. Start moving."
You looked from side to side. It would be the perfect time for your babysitters to come out of hiding and save you, but for the first time in a while, none of them showed their faces.
Just your luck. The moment you actually wanted one of them to be lurking, they decided to take the day off.
Taking in a deep breath you started to make your way over to the car. Its dark gleam blinded you in the sunlight and you squinted as you approached. The man kept the knife in your side as he opened the back seat door and held it open for you. "After you," he said, mockingly polite.
You glared at him but ducked into the car. The driver didn't look back at you as the man followed you in, knife in place.
"Drive," the man said, and the driver did.
You quickly glanced at the handle on the door and wondered how long it would take for you to open the door and leap out of the car when a sweet-smelling cloth was pressed into your face. You jumped in surprise and tried to jerk away, but your muscles wouldn't respond.
Nausea rose up in your stomach and you gagged, vision going blurry. You tried to raise your hand to fight off the drugged rag, but all you found was darkness.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The first thing you noticed when you came to was the duct tape securing your hands and feet to the arms and legs of a chair. The second thing you noticed was the complete and utter darkness of your vision. At first, you thought you were in a dark room, but the shifting of fabric on your face as you turned your head to the side told you pretty quickly that you were actually blindfolded.
Blood rushed through your ears as your heart started to pound.
Where were you?
How long had you been here?
Did anyone know you were here? Did they care?
Your breath quickened at the sound of a door opening somewhere behind you. Footsteps approached you and you forced yourself to swallow your panic and stay still.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," a man's voice said from behind you and your shoulders tensed. "Ready for our chat?"
Your lips trembled as you tried to force out a witty reply but came up blank. What were they going to do to you? Would anyone ever find your body?
The man ripped the blindfold off of your face and you blinked as bright light hit your eyes.
A beam of sunlight streamed through a crack between wooden planks that blocked your vision out of the window to your left. The window on the right wall had the same treatment, wood shabbily nailed into place across the glass. The whole room was old, sickly yellow paint peeling off in swaths. The entire place smelled like mold and dust. You wrinkled your nose at the scent.
The man came to your front and you recognized him as the scarred man from the park.
"Who are you?" you croaked, your throat scratching from dehydration, you guessed.
"Unimportant. What I want to know is what you saw that day in the alley," the man said, crouching down in front of you. "One of my men said you were there, that you saw what happened."
"I-if your man was there, why can't he tell you what happened?" You shook your head tiredly. "Why do you need me?"
He chuckled darkly. "That idiot doesn't know what he saw. Keeps trying to string together his story, but can't tell us the details for the life of him. I think whatever you two saw scared him dumb. Did it scare you dumb, dear?"
"I don't know what you want me to say," you whispered. "I didn't see anything."
"I think we both know that's not true," he said, raising his hands up to rest on your knees. You jerked away at the contact, but he gripped them tightly. "Now, you're going to tell me in detail what you know about that boy, that... Bob."
Your blood ran cold as his fingers tapped on your knees. His very touch sent a wave of nausea through you. "Who's Bob," you tried.
"Oh, please--" The man's retort was interrupted by another body slamming the door open.
"Sir!" the new voice said. "We've got trouble."
"What's going on?" he asked, quickly rising back to his feet.
The newcomer rushed forward. "We need to evacuate. Our location's been compromised, and we're under attack."
"Who would dare--"
It happened so fast you didn't have time to react. The flash of silver, the spray of warm blood, the sickening thud as the dagger sunk into the scarred man's throat. He clawed at his neck as blood bubbled out of his wound and he sank to the ground.
You watched him twitch and writhe on the floor as his blood spilled onto the floor, then saw his companion meet the same fate, this blade sinking deep into his chest. You could taste the blood that splattered your face and let out an ear piercing shriek.
Footsteps sounded behind you, but you couldn't turn enough to see who was coming up from behind you. Pulling at your arms and legs, you tried to rip your arms free, but the duct tape held fast. No, no, no, you thought. Not like this!
The figure came beside you and out of the corner of your eye you saw the glint of another blade. A squeak escaped your lips as you flinched.
"Calm down," a deep voice said slowly. "I'm here to help."
He sounded familiar. You lifted your head to see vibrant blue eyes looking back at you.
"Bucky," you breathed as realization sunk in.
He slid the blade across the tape and sliced it with ease, freeing your arms and legs in an instant. You tried to stand up but your legs turned to jelly and you stumbled forwards.
Bucky's arms shot out and caught you before you hit the floor. "Come on," he said, sliding his metal arm around your back, his real arm coming under your legs. "Let's get you out of here."
You nodded. "Yes, please."
As he carried you out of the building, you felt the exhaustion sink in. Turns out, getting kidnapped and threatened is kind of tiring. Your bones felt heavy, and you thought you could close your eyes for just a second. You thought you could relax into Bucky's warm chest just enough to take the edge off.
You come home from a long day at work to find Clark cooking dinner for you so that you can rest.
WC: 800
Masterlist
Today has been so long it felt like it stretched on for eight days, not eight hours. You come up to the front entrance of your apartment and let out a long, tired sigh, unlocking the door and trudging inside.
You expected to be greeted with silence, like usual, maybe a meow from your cat, but instead you heard the sound of something sizzling and movement in your kitchen. Your heart began to beat faster, nerves starting to electrify.
"Hello?" you called out sheepishly.
"In the kitchen," you heard your boyfriend call back.
Immediately, your body relaxed and you turned the corner to see Clark huddled over the stove holding a spatula in one hand and the handle of a pan in the other. He turned to see you in the doorway and shot you his beautiful, charming smile, opening up his arms in a welcome embrace. "Hey, sweetheart."
You rolled your eyes but set your bag down on the ground and let yourself into his arms, feeling his warmth sink into your skin, the smell of bacon grease and sugar waft off of him. "What are you doing here, Clark?"
"What, a guy can't come surprise his girl?" he asked, shooting you a boyish grin.
"Of course he can, but it would have been nice to know beforehand so I could at least have cleaned up a bit." You looked around your kitchen to see the dirty dishes in the sink left over from breakfast.
He shook his head. "I don't mind."
"I know you don't, but I do," you countered, heading over to the sink to start washing.
Clark cut you off with his arm, pulling you into his chest.
You giggled. "What are you doing, you goof. I gotta clean up."
"I'll do that later," he promised. "You go get changed, put on something comfy, and when you're done we'll eat and watch a movie."
Your brows furrowed in a frown. "I can't let you do that."
"Yes, you can."
"You're a guest!"
He clutched his chest like there was a string of pearls to grab. "Is that all I am to you? A guest?"
You buried your face in his chest. "You know that's not what I mean. I just mean that you shouldn't be doing all this work when I could be helping."
He wrapped his arms around you and gently stroked your back. "Can't a guy want to do something nice for his girl? I know you've had a long day, let me do this for you."
You pulled back slightly. "How do you know I've had a long day?"
His cheeks flushed that adorable shade of pink that you love. "I, uh, checked in on you a few times."
"On the seventh floor?"
"It was a flyby! Or two."
You laughed into his shirt. "You are ridiculous, Clark."
"And you need to go get out of that dress shirt and into something cozier," he replied, turning you around and gently pushing you in the direction of your bedroom.
"Oh, like one of your shirts?" you joked.
He chuckled. "If you so please."
"You know what, I think I do please." You headed into your room wondering how you got so lucky. When you re-emerged wearing his shirt and a pair of shorts, he stopped cooking and stared at you from the stove.
You looked down. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no," he said quickly. "I just... You're so beautiful."
Now it was your turn for your cheeks to heat up. "Oh, shut up."
"I mean it." He walked over and gathered you into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You are stunning."
"I have no makeup on and I'm wearing a shirt six times my size."
"Exactly. Now go pick out something to watch and I'll plate up the food."
You shook your head in disbelief, but turned around and padded into your living room where you flopped on the couch. As you scrolled through the movie options, Clark came out of the kitchen with two plates of... eggs, bacon, and pancakes.
"Breakfast for dinner?" you asked.
"Your favourite," he said, grinning excitedly, setting the food down on the coffee table and taking his place next to you on the couch.
Your heart warmed at the gesture. Even if it was actually his favourite thing to make for dinner, he still made it all for you. You tucked your legs up beside you and leaning into his side. "Thank you, Clark."
"Anything for you, sweetheart."
You gazed up at him as he looked back at you with adoration in his eyes and pressed your lips to his in a soft, warm embrace. His lips moved against yours slowly, lovingly, and you couldn't help but smile into the kiss. His lips tasted like maple syrup and sneaked pancake bites, but more than that, they felt like home.
This is my first drabble, so apologies if it's not great ;-; I just love them all so much.
Thunderbolts!
Masterlist
The Thunderbolts going on a road trip would be so insanely funny and chaotic
Bucky is the one who organizes everything, of course. Plans out the path, the hotels they stay at, restaurants to stop by. He may be the only one with his sh*t together
Alexei is on snack duty, picking up all the chips and chocolate and cookies a road trip team could ask for. He eats like, half of them by himself.
Yelena is on navigation duty (though she still manages to get everyone lost even with the GPS)
"No, it said to go left" - Yelena
"No, Yelena, you're literally holding it upside down" - Ava
"Yeah, and you have to make it so it locks us in place--" - John
"I know how to use a GPS!" - Yelena
Ava makes the road trip playlist. She is the only one on the team with her taste in music.
John was the one who absolutely forgot half of his things at home. Toothbrush? Nope. Charging cord? As if. Underwear? He's only got one pair.
Bob packed his own bag properly, which is good enough for everyone.
Summary: You just moved to New York to follow your passion as a photographer, but your day job as a barista becomes increasingly interesting as more and more unusual patrons start frequenting the coffee shop. Especially one newly declared Avenger...
It's been three days since you started your official shifts at the coffee shop, and something was... off.
Very off.
You couldn't tell if it was just nerves from starting over in a new city at a new job, or if it was the literal New Avengers that kept coming by, acting like they were being subtle.
It started the day after you saw Bucky and Bob in the alley. You opened the shop early in the morning, and not ten minutes after opening, the largest man you've ever seen sauntered in, a grin plastered across his bearded face.
He was dressed in a loose-fitting zip-up hoodie and sweatpants, and held his arms up like he was thrilled to see you.
âGood morning!â he boomed in a thick Russian accent. âYou have very nice coffee shop here!â
You blinked and glanced over at your coworker, Anne, who was staring at the man with eyes the size of saucers. She kept looking him up and down like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. Unfortunately, this meant she was not paying attention to you. She clearly wasnât going to be of any help to you right now, so you looked back at the man and gave a small smile. âUm, thanks. What can I get you this morning?â
He strode over and planted his hands firmly on the counter. âI will take finest black coffee you serve.â He leaned in like he was telling you a secret. âExtra black.â
â...okay.â You pursed your lips and leaned back a bit as you tapped the order into the system. âAnything else, sir?â
The man examined your pastry case, but shook his head. âYou donât serve honey cakes here?â
You shook your head.Â
âBah,â he grumbled. âNo one serve good honey cake anymore.â He leveled his eyes with you. âBest pastry, yah? Sweet like sugar and delicate like butterfly, melt on your tongue. You will never have better cake in your whole life!â
A nervous laugh made its way out of your lips as you turned the payment machine over to him. âThatâll be three dollars and twenty-five cents please.â
The man nodded and reached into his sweatpants pocket to pull out a handful of bills and coins. He pawed around at them for a moment before handing over a five dollar bill. âKeep change, ya? Like tip for you!â
You accepted the bill. âThank you. Can I get a name for the order?â
He let out a hearty laugh and put his hands on his hips, standing straight. âYou can put Red Guardian on cup!â
Your hand stilled above the computer and your eyes darted back up to the man, who was now adjusting his pose to look more⊠heroic, you think. He was jutting his chest out even more and sucking in his stomach.
Red Guardian⊠Wasnât thatâ
âI knew it,â Anne whispered next to you, her eyes still glued to the man. âYou are him!â
The Red Guardian broke his pose to hold his arms out to her. âI am me!â
She turned to you and you were shocked to see the biggest smile youâd ever seen breaking out across her face. âCan you take care of the order, I just want to get a picture with him!â
âYes, yes, come take picture with best hero in New York City!â the Red Guardian bellowed, gesturing for her to join him on the other side of the counter.
As you started on his coffee order, Anne scrambled around the counter to join him up front, her phone clutched in her hands. She was practically vibrating with excitement as she approached him. She glanced back at you and held out her phone. âCould youâŠâ
You nodded. âSure.â
You snapped a quick photo of the two of them before handing her back the phone and returning to your job.Â
As soon as heâd said his name, you knew exactly who he was, and maybe even why he was there. Did they send him to keep tabs on you after what youâd seen? A subtle glance at him made you doubt yourself. He wasnât even looking in your direction, he was too busy letting Anne fawn over him, flexing his muscles and laughing boisterously.
âOne extra black coffee,â you called out, holding a take out cup over the edge of the counter.
He took it from you and nodded. âMany thanks! Have the best day, girls!â
And then he was gone.
You wondered if maybe it was just a coincidence that heâd dropped by the coffee shop you work at the day after you saw Bob use his powers, and you let it go. Until the next day, when a woman walked in and Anne lost her mind again.
The woman had short, choppy blonde hair and a blank, unimpressed expression as she ordered a large cappuccino.Â
You told yourself it had to be another coincidence, that maybe the Watchtower was just a lot closer than you thought it was, and this just happened to be a good place to come for coffee.
âDoes this happen often?â you asked Anne when the woman had left.
Anne shook her head, almost in a trance as she looked at her phone which now had another selfie with one of the New Avengers.
The final straw was on the third day, when you watched John Walker saunter through the door like he owned the place. You suddenly wished Anne was on shift again to keep completing her collection of photos and keep this Avenger busy, but unfortunately for you, your other co-worker Kyle had no interest in engaging in fangirly behaviour.
âOne large large latte please, no milk, no sugar.â
You paused and looked up at him through your lashes. â...You mean, like, an espresso?â
âNo, like, a latte but no milk or sugar in it,â he said, doubling down like it was obvious.Â
âSo⊠just the espresso shots?â
âExactly.â
You opened your mouth but decided it wasnât worth it and tapped in the order. âSingle or double shot?â
âDouble.â
âOkay, and what name can I put on the order?âÂ
He leaned on the counter and gave you a half smile. âYou can just put Walker there, doll.â
Your stomach flipped in the most disturbing way, and you leaned back a bit. âGreat⊠Itâll be ready in a moment.â Turning away, you tapped Kyle on the shoulder. âDouble espresso.â
He nodded wordlessly and got started on the order while you went back to organizing the pastries.
Walker hovered around where you were, trying to act coy and natural, but you didnât miss the way his eyes would dart over to you every few seconds. The awkwardness in the air was so strong that you wished you could just go into the back and take your break early, but you just started half an hour ago.
âSo,â Walker said, finally breaking the silence, leaning against one of the chairs in the seating area. âYou, uh, seen anything strange lately?â
You raised an eyebrow. âDefine strange.â
He shrugged, playing it cool. âYou know, just⊠weird stuff you donât usually see.â
âLike three New Avengers in three days?â
He let out a nervous laugh. âSomething like that. That would be⊠crazy, right?â
A glance at Kyle told you he wasnât paying attention to the conversation. While you were grateful for it in the moment, you wondered if he was always this dissociative.Â
âYeah. Crazy. Almost like theyâre trying to be casual and scope something out. Or someone. Wild, right?â You stared at Walker, your eyes narrowing slightly, and he got the message.Â
âYeah, totally.â Walkerâs smile was tight, and didnât reach his eyes. He searched for something to say but was interrupted by Kyleâs dry voice ringing out at the other end of the cafe with his espresso. âThatâs mine,â he said, looking away.
âSure is.â
âWell, nice to meet youâŠâ He waited until you told him your name. âStay safe out there, yeah?â
That alone made you feel even less safe, and coming from the guy who got fired from being Captain America, you pretty much felt doomed. When you clocked out that afternoon, you found yourself checking down all the streets, all the alleys, and behind you to see if the entire New Avengers team was waiting to ambush you, to make sure you were going to keep your mouth shut.
For a superhero team that was supposed to make the world feel safer, you sure didnât know how to feel about them. Did they have nothing better to do than frequent some random girlâs workplace and pretend like it was totally normal?
The apartment you were renting was just a few blocks away from the coffee shop, thankfully, so you got home pretty fast. But when you rounded the corner of the street, your eyes widened. Two men were standing in front of the walkway to your building, guns poised to attack.
You backtracked, hoping they hadnât seen you and pressed your back against the wall. Their shouts echoed down the street, and you got the impression that they wouldnât be moving on any time soon.Â
Fumbling with your phone, you scrambled to dial 911, but before you could even dial the first digit, a different sound reached your ears. Deep thuds and thwacks replaced the yelling, and when you peeked around the corner, you saw a man in a black suit battering the others down.Â
He grabbed the gun out of one manâs hand and threw it behind him, the gun clattering against the sidewalk and coming to rest right at your feet. He gripped the other gun by the barrel and with his bare hand shattered it. That was when you saw the metal glint of his fist and the realization hit you.
He threw his fist into the jaw of one man, thrusting the other fist into the gut of the other. They almost tried to fight back but he hit them both with another attack and they were on the ground groaning.Â
Bucky reached into his pocket and brought out a tool and started to tie them up, binding their arms to their sides and trapping them back to back. He shut their mouths with a quick application of some sort of mechanical device that covered the entire lower half of their faces.
One of the men struggled to get up and attack Bucky, but a quick hit to the temple and the man was out for the count.Â
Bucky straightened out his sleeve before turning in your direction. You ducked back around the corner and searched for a different place to retreat to. Maybe you could go around the back of the buildiâ
âAre you alright?â
A squeak escaped your lips as Buckyâs form practically materialized next to you. You whirled around to see him standing, arms crossed.Â
âAre you following me?â you couldnât help but ask.
He scoffed. âWhat makes you think that?â
âThree days in a row.â You shook your head and took a step back. âOne of the New Avengers has been to my work for the last three days in a row, and now youâre here just as a situation was happening outside my home. Are you, like, monitoring me?â
âThose idiots,â he muttered under his breath. âWe⊠needed to make sure you were actually clean.â
Your heart felt like it was about to stop. Theyâd been watching you. For days. And youâd had no idea. You knew that New York had some crazy people, youâd been warned over and over again, but you had no clue that their heroes were crazy too.Â
âOkay, well, hopefully by now youâve realized that Iâm literally just a barista, and you donât have to like⊠stalk me anymore.â You took another step back, your phone clutched tightly in hand. âI havenât told anyone, and Iâm not going to.â
Bucky nodded. âAt this point, I believe you. Unfortunately, youâll still see us around.â
âWhy?â you asked, your voice trembling. âI havenât done anything wrong.â
âNo, but there are people out there who would love to know what you know, and if they find out that a civilian has classified intel, they could very well target you for information.â
Everything in your body froze. Your breath stilled, your muscles tensed, your eyes widened.Â
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. âI really wish I could tell you everything would be completely fine, and there was nothing to worry about, but⊠there are people out there who are really trying to figure out who Bob is and what he can do, and they wonât be kind to you if they think you could tell them what they want to know. Itâs our duty as protectors to make sure nothing happens to you.â
A shaky laugh forced its way out of your lungs. âAh. Right. To make sure they donât, like, kidnap and torture me. Got it.â
âUnfortunately.â
âAm⊠Am IâDo they know about me?â
âWe donât know,â he said. âI donât think so, but you never know whoâs watching.â
A tight smile pulled across your face. âRight. Great. Thanks for that.â
You shuffled awkwardly in place as Bucky glanced at the men to make sure they were right where he left them, and took a deep breath. This was not at all what you had in mind when you decided to move here. You thought that youâd relax, work a well-paying job and pursue your passion in photography, visit Central Park, maybe see a few shows on Broadway. Not get the entire New Avengers keeping you under surveillance because they think you could get kidnapped and killed at any time.
Suddenly, you wished youâd stayed home.
Bucky turned back to you. âIâll walk you to the door.â
âThanksâŠâ
He escorted you down the sidewalk, past the two men who glared daggers at him on the way by. One of them lunged at Buckyâs feet, and he just kicked them away, their body falling still again.
You tried not to react to the violence, turning your gaze away from the men. Bucky led you up the stairs to your apartment, and you thanked him quickly before darting into your building, making sure no one was behind you as you got on the elevator. When the doors closed, you leaned against the wall and cursed.
Summary: You just moved to New York to follow your passion as a photographer, but your day job as a barista becomes increasingly interesting as more and more unusual patrons start frequenting the coffee shop. Especially one newly declared Avenger...
New York City was a lot busier than you expected. You weren't sure exactly what you had been expecting, but downtown at rush hour was an absolute monster that you had NOT been prepared for.
The crowds were thick and unforgiving, especially to someone who was both new and lost. You had never been in a city this big, even though you grew up in a big city. You realized now that none of the cities in Canada even compared to the size of New York.
You jostled through the endless stream of bodies to reach the edge of the sidewalk near an alley. No one made room for you, no one moved to give you a path, but you made it in the end.
A breath escaped your lips as you took a second to catch your breath. Was it always this... chaotic here?
Ever since the incident with the Void had happened, everyone you knew back home had begged you not to move there, but the job that was offering you a living wage AND freedom to follow your passion as a photographer could not be turned down.
Was it glamourous working at a local coffee shop? No.
Was it going to pay your rent? Honestly, probably not, you were still trying to work that out.
Steadying yourself against the wall, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and glanced down at the map directions to the pharmacy one more time.
Three more blocks down and then you turn.
Sighing, you pocket the phone once more. The sidewalk was just as crowded as it had been thirty seconds ago, and you weren't sure you wanted to walk back into the fray.
To your right, you heard the sound of an impact, and you glanced down the alley. You saw two figures a little ways down, one much bulkier than the other. The smaller figure cowered beneath the other, their back against a wall, held there by the other's hand.
The big guy shoved his finger into the little guy's chest forcefully, saying something you couldn't hear from this far away.
Little Guy said something in response that Big Guy didn't like, based on the way he pulled out a knife and held it to Little Guy's stomach.
Your blood ran cold. You glanced at the people on the sidewalk, hoping someone else would look down the alley and see what was happening.
They didn't, in true New Yorker fashion.
You looked back at the guys and saw Little Guy squirming under the pressure of Big Guy, who was practically toying with him. Your breath quickened. What were you supposed to do? Intervene? Would that be safe? What if they turned on you? There was no way you'd be able to hold your own in a literal knife fight.
But then... were you just supposed to let some stranger get gutted like a fish in cold blood?
Then, to your surprise, Little Guy choked out a laugh and smacked the knife out of Big Guy's hand with ease. Something in the air shifted, and you inhaled sharply when you realized.
It had happened so slowly, so subtly that you hadn't even noticed, but Little Guy was... taller than Big Guy now.
No.
He wasn't taller, he was... floating. You could see the space beneath his feet growing as he gently lifted off the ground and your eyes widened.
Your mouth opened to call for someone, anyone to come and help, realizing that it might be you that was in danger, but before a single word made it out of your lips, you saw him.
A large, muscular figure sauntering down the alley from the opposite direction. He was tall, and walked with intense purpose. His face was hidden by a ball cap, but you could see chunks of wavy brown hair peeking out from under the hat. He was dressed simply in dark jeans and a scuffed brown leather jacket. Out of his left sleeve, you could see dark metal glinting in the light and your eyes narrowed.
He looked like any guy off the street, but something about him was distinctly different. His steps were heavy as he approached Big Guy and ripped him off of Little Guy with what seemed like no effort at all.
Big Guy hit the wall on the other side of the alley with a sickening thud, and hit the ground with a grunt. He made no moves to get up.
Did that guy just knock him out with a single hit?
Little Guy turned to Hat man, hands out in an innocent gesture.
"I-I'm sorry," you heard Little Guy say, his voice small and mousey.
"Yelena was supposed to go with you, what are you doing on your own?" Hat said.
Little Guy ran his hand nervously through his curly hair and let out a slight laugh. "Um, yeah, about that-"
"Bob..." Hat said warningly.
"She might think that you... approved a solo outing?"
Hat threw his hand up in the air exasperatedly and you started to wonder how these two knew each other. They didn't look too far apart in age, but Hat acted like Little Guy--Bob's--dad or something.
"You lied to her so you could wander around on your own and get cornered by the first thug?"
Bob let out a breath, "In my, uh, d-defense, I wasn't intending to get mugged. It just kind of happened."
The air was so tense that you felt like you were intruding on a very private moment, but you knew that the second you moved, one or both of the men would realize you'd witnessed the whole thing. Who knew what they'd do to you. What if they were part of the mafia? Would they kill you to hide the evidence of what just happened?
"Look, I'm sorry, Bucky. I just wanted to go for a walk," Bob pleaded, his head hanging low. "It gets so... tight up there."
Your brows furrowed. Bucky. For some reason, that name sounded familiar, but you couldn't figure out where you had heard it before.
Bucky stood with his hands on his hips, looking Bob in the eyes before sighing. "Just... head home, Bob. And apologize to Yelena before she finds out from me."
Bob gave a small nod and turned away from Bucky. His eyes landed on you and he froze.
You locked eyes and ice coursed through your veins.
Neither of you moved, frozen in this limbo of trying to figure out who was going to acknowledge this first.
"Didn't you hear me, Bob? Go ho-" Bucky stopped when he saw you, your small frame shrinking even more under his gaze. "When did she get there?"
Bob shook his head. "I-I don't know."
You felt your legs tremble under their scrutiny, but you couldn't even make an attempt to make an excuse for your presence, no matter how innocent or well-meaning it was. If you'd just witnessed something you weren't supposed to see, whether it be Bob floating or Bucky knocking out Big Guy, it wouldn't matter to them.
In a split second decision, you decided that you'd rather survive regardless, and turned tail to start running down the street.
You didn't make it a single step before you heard footsteps pounding after you.
A rough hand grabbed your arm and wrenched you back, pressing you against the alley wall.
Bucky was now in front of you, his arm blocking the exit to the street. His piercing blue eyes glared into your own. "What did you see?"
"I-I didn't see anything!" you squeaked, retreating farther into the wall as though it would swallow you up. "I swear, I-I won't tell anyone anything."
"How long were you standing there for?" His voice was deep, and under different circumstances, you think it would have been pretty attractive. Unfortunately, right now it just made you feel like you were going to crumple to the floor.
You shook your head. "Not long!"
His face drew closer until it was only inches away, and you felt your chest tighten as you held your breath. "Who. Sent you?"
"Sent me?" Your voice trembled. "No one, I was just trying to figure out where I was going, you know, I'm trying to find the pharmacy, and I stopped in the alley, and then-" You stopped yourself before you could ramble yourself to death. "I didn't see a thing."
Bucky let out a dry laugh. "I don't believe you."
Your heart throbbed like it was going to beat out of your chest. He was so close you could feel his breath brushing across your face in puffs. Your entire body was screaming that red flags were everywhere, that you weren't safe, that you had to get out of there right that second. All you wanted was to get to the pharmacy and stock up your new medicine cabinet, yet here you are, cornered in a dark alley with not one but two men that were clearly capable of annihilating you in an instant.
"Please don't hurt me," you whispered.
Something in his eyes changed and he backed up ever so slightly.
"I-I don't have anything t-to gain, n-no one to tell about a-any of this."
"I'm not going to hurt you. And what is 'this'?" he asked, though slightly more gently than before.
You glanced over at Bob, who was watching you warily. "H-him. He started to... float."
Bucky swiveled to look at Bob, who promptly looked away. "He did what?"
"I promise I won't tell anyone," you tried to reason again, but he wasn't listening to you anymore, his eyes were fully focused on Bob.
"Bob..." His voice was scarily even as he pointed at him with his free arm, and you finally got a clear look at the metal. His entire left arm was made out of shiny black metal, little glints of gold peeking through. "What is she talking about?"
The smaller man looked even smaller as he shrunk into himself, refusing to meet Bucky's eyes. "I didn't mean to," he mumbled. "It just... happened."
Bucky closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting out a slow breath. His lips were tight when he looked back down at you. "I'm sorry about this," he said, letting go of your arm and stepping back. "You weren't supposed to see any of that."
"You-you're letting me go?" Your eyes widened.
He let out a short chuckle, and the corner of his lips tilted ever so slightly up. "You didn't do anything wrong. And if you did, I'll find out about it, so you'll see me soon anyway."
"I didn't," you said quickly.
He nodded. "Then I offer you my sincere apology on both his and my behalf."
You let out a breathy laugh. "T-thanks. I, uh... appreciate it."
There's a brief pause where you weren't entirely sure if you should acknowledge Bob, and the sound of his shuffling feet told you he didn't know either, so you just awkwardly nod in his direction without looking up.
You quickly leave the alley, and grip your phone tightly in your hand as you walked, not even caring to see where you were going if it meant you could put distance between yourself and those two.
Ten minutes later, you successfully find your way to the pharmacy. Letting out a tight breath, you blink to yourself and start shopping for items.
Your arms are full of products when you arrive at the checkout counter. Dumping them out of your arms, you sigh and look around while the cashier starts scanning.
Nothing special at first, then you see it. The tabloid stand beside the cashier, and the magazine that was front and center. The cover of HERO Magazine showcased a team, the New Avengers, posing in various heroic styles.
You blinked and leaned in closer positive that you were going insane.
While you barely recognized the original Avengers, and would certainly have to brush up on all the heroes currently active, these ones caught your eye.
Maybe it was the intense stare of the blonde woman in the middle, or the palpable energy of the muscular man in red...
The longer you looked, the more dread set in as you realized that you recognized the man on the end. The man with wavy dark hair and sharp blue eyes.
[ON HIATUS FOR NOW] ngl I lost the plot of my own story, and I'm having more fun with one shots for the time being so... putting a pause on OUACS!
Welcome to the masterlist for my ongoing Thunderbolts!Bucky x Civilian!Reader story! I hope you enjoy the story, I'll be updating this with every upload so follow to keep up!
