my two long-time sleeper obsessions finally converged so I took a crack at designing Steve and Eddie as spideypool. Years late in joining as is my usual but if there's anyone still tuning in please enjoy
Summary: During a mission, you and Bucky accidentally trigger a machine that sends you to a different universe. As you travel the multiverse together, you have to find each other in every universe. But will you ever make it back to your original universe?
Word Count: 9,127
Author's Note: Hey guys!! I know I've promised some fics that I haven't done yet, and I've also gotten some requests that I'll try to work on, but I had this idea and kinda ran away with it (aka I have senioritis and this fic is what I've been doing instead of school work), so I hope you enjoy! I'm making this a series and I hope it has the same vibes as Grumpy and the New Girl!! Also idk if you guys are fans of the whole multiverse thing or not, but hopefully you enjoy! Lmk what you think😊
The warehouse smells like dust, oil, and something faintly metallic. You step carefully over a coil of cables on the concrete floor, your flashlight cutting a narrow beam through the dim room. Most of the building had looked exactly like this – abandoned offices, empty storage areas, rusting equipment that hadn’t been touched in years. Except for the few rooms that clearly weren’t abandoned. Those had been…different. Too clean. Too organized. Too full of tech that absolutely did not belong in a run-down warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The entire team had been assigned to this mission, and Fury thought they were storing intel and possibly some tech related to the multiverse.
You lower the beam of your light as Bucky pushes open the next door.
“Clear,” he mutters automatically, stepping inside first.
You follow him, sweeping the corners out of habit. “Also empty,” you say after a second.
“Shocking.”
You snort softly. You and Bucky have been paired together most of the mission. It’s not unusual – Steve likes putting you two together because you’re both thorough. Also because, according to Sam, you’re both “stubborn enough to out-stubborn the other.” Which is not true…okay, maybe a little. But the two of you work well together. Even when you butt heads.
You step farther into the next room, your eyes adjusting. This one isn’t like the others.
“Uh…Bucky?” you say slowly.
He’s already noticed. The entire far wall is lined with equipment. Sleek metal consoles. Monitors. A circular platform built into the floor with glowing lines etched into it. You whistle quietly.
“Okay,” you say. “That definitely does not scream abandoned.”
Bucky moves closer, eyes scanning everything. “Looks recent,” he mutters.
You crouch beside a console, brushing dust off a panel. The screens are dark, but the machinery around them hums faintly. “Multiverse tech maybe?” you say.
Bucky huffs. “Great.”
You glance up at him. “What?”
“Because that always goes well.”
You grin. “Hey, last time we dealt with multiverse stuff you only almost got thrown into a different dimension once.”
“Still counts.”
You reach for a stack of folders beside the console. Most of the papers inside are diagrams – dense scientific schematics that make your brain hurt just looking at them. “Yeah, okay,” you mutter. “Definitely experiments.”
Bucky walks slowly around the circular platform. “There’s power running to it,” he says.
“Probably some kind of portal system.”
You flip through another folder. Nothing useful, just equations. “Great,” you sigh. “So we found the science nerd room but not the intel room.”
“Let’s keep looking.”
You nod, tossing the folder aside as you stand. But when you step backward, your boot catches one of the loose cables trailing from the console.
There’s a sharp click. Both of you freeze.
“Did you just–” Bucky starts.
The console lights up.
“–trigger something?” you finish weakly.
Every screen flickers to life. The circular platform glows brighter. “Oh no.”
The hum of the machines deepens into a low vibrating thrum. You spin toward the door.
“Steve–” you start, reaching for your comm.
But the words never finish. The air in the room suddenly warps. Your vision bends. The floor tilts sideways.
“What the–”
Your stomach lurches violently.
Then–
Everything goes black.
--
You wake up with a gasp. Your chest heaves as you bolt upright. Or try to. Something tight around your waist stops you. You freeze. Your brain struggles to catch up with reality. You’re in a bed. A warm bed. Soft blankets. Your heart is still racing when you realize something else. There’s an arm around you. A very familiar arm. Metal fingers curl loosely against your stomach.
Your head snaps sideways. Bucky is lying right next to you. His face is inches away. His hair is messy, his expression slack with sleep. He’s shirtless. Your eyes widen. Your brain short-circuits. You both stare at each other. Two seconds pass. Then three. Then both of you explode into motion. You scramble backward, nearly falling off the bed as he jerks upright at the same time.
“What the hell–”
“What is happening–”
“Why am I–”
“Why are we in bed–”
You both stop. You blink. “Wait,” you say.
He frowns. “What?”
You look around the room. Your stomach drops. “Oh my god.”
Bucky follows your gaze. His eyes widen too. “…This is my room.”
You stare at him. “I know.”
You both go quiet. Your heart is still racing as you drag a hand through your hair. You glance down at yourself. Sleep shorts. An oversized t-shirt. You freeze. You know this shirt. Your stomach flips. You’re about 99.9% sure it belongs to Bucky. You immediately decide not to acknowledge that. You get up and start pacing the room instead.
“Okay,” you say quickly. “Okay okay okay.”
Bucky swings his legs off the bed and stands. He’s only wearing boxers. You accidentally glance down. Your brain short circuits again. Nope. Eyes up. Focus.
“Why were we–” he starts. Then he stops. “Cuddling?”
Your face goes hot. “We were not cuddling,” you say.
“We definitely were.”
“We were unconscious!”
“Still counts.”
You point at him. “That does not count!”
Bucky runs a hand over his face. “Okay, forget the cuddling – why are we in my room?”
Your pacing speeds up. “Because,” you say slowly, thinking it through, “we triggered that machine.”
“The one in the warehouse?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And–”
Your brain finally catches up. Your steps stop. “…Oh shit.”
Bucky looks at you. “What.”
You point between the two of you. “I think we’re in another universe.”
Silence. He stares at you. “…No.”
“Yes.”
“There is absolutely no way.”
“Think about it!” You start pacing again. “That room had multiverse tech. We triggered it. Then we blacked out and woke up here.”
“Okay,” Bucky says slowly. “But why would we be in my room?”
You gesture around wildly. “Because we’re in the bodies of our other universe selves!”
He blinks. “…That sounds insane.”
You throw your hands up. “You have a metal arm and are from the 1940s and you’re telling me that sounds insane?”
He opens his mouth. Then closes it. “…Fair.”
You keep pacing. Your brain is running a mile a minute. “Okay,” you say. “Okay. If we’re in another universe…” You glance toward the bed. Your stomach drops again. “…Then that means.”
Bucky follows your gaze. Then he slowly looks back at you. “…Yeah.”
You both say it at the same time. “We’re dating.”
You stare at each other. “Oh god.”
“Oh no.”
You rub your face. “This is so weird.”
Bucky exhales hard. “We need to figure out how to get back,” you say.
“Yes.”
“Immediately.”
“Yes.”
You nod rapidly. Then, your eyes drift downward again. Bare chest. Muscle. Boxers. You snap your gaze back up.
“…Also you need to put pants on.”
Bucky stares at you. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“That’s your concern right now?”
“It’s distracting!”
He squints at you. “You’re an Avenger.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve fought aliens.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve jumped out of planes.”
“Yes.”
“And my legs are where you draw the line?”
Your face burns. “PUT. PANTS. ON.”
Bucky rolls his eyes but walks over to the dresser. You very deliberately stare at the wall while he pulls on sweatpants.
“…Happy?” he mutters.
“Yes.”
You glance over again. Your brain betrays you. Still distracting. You turn away immediately. “This is a nightmare.”
Bucky sighs. “Yeah.”
You lean against the wall, trying to think. “So we triggered the machine,” you say slowly. “Which means if we want to get back…”
“We probably need to find the machine in this universe.”
You nod. “Exactly.”
Bucky looks around the room. “Which means we might have to pretend to be…us.”
Your stomach flips again. “Oh my god.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What.”
“You realize everyone in this universe thinks we’re dating.”
“…Yeah.”
“And we just woke up screaming in your bedroom.”
“…Yeah.”
You both pause. Footsteps echo faintly in the hallway outside. You slowly turn toward the door.
Bucky groans. “…We’re screwed.”
Your eyes widen. “Bucky–”
There’s a knock on the door. Then Sam’s voice comes through. “Hey lovebirds,” he calls. “You two alive in there?”
You and Bucky stare at each other like deer caught in headlights.
“Say something!” you whisper.
“You say something!”
“It’s your room!”
Bucky groans quietly, then raises his voice. “Yeah, we’re fine!”
There’s a pause. You both freeze. Then Sam snorts on the other side of the door.
“Alright, just checking. Sounded like somebody got murdered in there.”
Bucky rubs his face. “Dropped something,” he calls back.
“Uh huh,” Sam says, clearly not believing that for a second. “Well try not to kill each other before breakfast.”
Footsteps start walking away down the hallway. You both wait. Then you collapse onto the edge of the bed. “Oh my god.”
Bucky exhales and drags a hand through his hair. “This is already a disaster.”
“We haven’t even left the room yet.”
“Exactly.”
You push yourself up again, pacing. “Okay, okay. Focus.”
Bucky leans back against the dresser, arms crossed. “You said the warehouse.”
You nod immediately. “Yes! We know where it is.”
“The one from the mission.”
“Exactly.”
“Which means the machine should be there in this universe too.”
“Hopefully.”
Bucky tilts his head slightly. “So we just go back there.”
You stop pacing. “…Right.”
He waits. You stare at him. “…How are we getting there?”
Bucky pauses. “…Quinjet.”
“Correct. Which we don’t currently have access to.”
He exhales slowly. “So we either explain this to the team–” he starts.
“Or steal a jet.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You went straight to stealing.”
“Weird multiverse emergency!”
“That’s not a real excuse.”
“It should be!”
Bucky pushes off the dresser, pacing now too. “If we try to explain it…”
“They might believe us.”
“Weirder things have happened,” he says.
“Exactly!”
“But,” he continues, “we also might sound insane.”
You rub your face. “Yeah.”
“And if they don’t believe us,” he adds, “they definitely won’t let us take a jet.”
You groan. “This is impossible.”
You’re both pacing now, circling the room like stressed animals.
“We could try to slip away after breakfast,” Bucky says.
“And just casually take a jet?”
“Yes.”
“From the Avengers compound.”
“Yes.”
You stare at him. “That sounds like the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”
“You suggested stealing it first.”
“That was hypothetical!”
Another knock interrupts you. You both freeze. “…We didn’t answer fast enough,” you whisper.
Bucky sighs and opens the door. Steve stands in the hallway. He smiles slightly. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Bucky says.
Steve glances past him briefly, then back. “You two coming down for breakfast?”
You step closer to the door. “Yeah, we will.”
“Training starts soon,” Steve adds. “Figured I’d check.”
Bucky nods. “We’ll be right there.”
Steve studies both of you for a second. Your heart rate skyrockets. Then he nods. “Alright. See you downstairs.”
He walks away. Bucky closes the door. You both immediately spin toward each other.
“Training?!” you whisper-yell.
“We cannot go to training!”
“We have to get to the warehouse!”
“I know!”
You start pacing again. “Okay okay okay, we need an excuse.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know!”
“We can’t just skip it.”
“Steve will hunt us down!”
“Exactly!”
Your brain spins. You run through every possible idea. Sick? Injured? Definitely not convincing. Then suddenly, a thought hits you. You stop pacing. Your face twists.
Bucky narrows his eyes. “What.”
“Nothing.”
“You thought of something.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
You wave your hands. “It’s stupid.”
He crosses his arms. “What is it.”
You groan. “Bucky.”
“What.”
“It’s weird.”
“Just say it.”
You rub your face dramatically. “We could say I might be pregnant.”
Bucky blinks. He stares at you. Then his expression slowly shifts. “…That might actually work.”
Your eyes widen. “WAIT.” You immediately start backtracking. “Wait wait wait – how long have we even been dating in this universe?”
“I don’t know.”
“What if it’s like two weeks?!”
“Then that’s concerning.”
“Exactly!”
You start pacing again. “And also – maybe we haven’t even–” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “–you know.”
Bucky tilts his head slightly. Then very casually says, “That hickey on your neck says otherwise.”
You freeze. “…What.”
Bucky nods toward your neck. “Right there.”
Your hand flies up instantly. “WHAT?!”
“Shh!”
“Are you serious?!”
“Yes!”
You spin toward the mirror across the room and nearly trip rushing over. You yank your shirt collar down slightly. Your eyes widen. “Oh my god.” There is absolutely a hickey on your neck. You whip back around. “BUCKY.”
He’s trying very hard not to laugh.
“This is not funny!”
“I didn’t do it!”
“You kind of did!”
He shrugs. “Technically.”
You stare at him. Your brain short circuits briefly. Then you close you eyes and shake your head. “Focus.”
“Right.”
You point at him. “We need to figure something out.”
“Agreed.”
“Soon.”
“Also agreed.”
You both pause. Then glance at the door. You look back at Bucky. “…This is a disaster.”
Bucky exhales. “Yep.”
You both stand there for a second. “…We really need a plan,” you say.
You and Bucky stare at each other for another long second.
“…We should just act normal,” you finally say.
Bucky exhales. “Normal?”
“Yes.”
“You mean pretend we know how our alternate universe selves act?”
You point at him. “Exactly.”
He rubs his face. “This is going to go badly.”
“Probably. But it’s still the best plan. Gather information. Don’t look suspicious. Then figure out how to get a jet.”
Bucky sighs. “Alright.”
You hesitate near the door. “…I should probably go get ready.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
You open the door slowly, peeking down the hallway like you’re committing a crime. No one’s there. You slip out quickly and head toward your room. The second the door shuts behind you, you lean back against it and exhale. Your heart is still racing. You cross the room, running a hand through your hair as your brain replays the last twenty minutes.
The warehouse. The machine. Waking up in Bucky’s bed. The hickey.
You groan and drag your hands over your face. “This is insane.”
You move to the mirror while pulling a clean shirt from your drawer. Your eyes immediately land on the mark on your neck again. You turn your head slightly, examining it. Your brain betrays you by imagining the very obvious person who could have put it there. You shake your head violently. “Nope.”
You change quickly, then go to the bathroom and wash your face, run a brush through your hair and put it into a ponytail. But while you’re tying your shoes, your mind drifts again. Because the thing that’s bothering you the most isn’t the multiverse. It’s the other part. You and Bucky. Dating.
You sit on the edge of your bed for a second. It feels weird. Really weird. But…you can also kind of see it. Which you absolutely do not want to admit. You and Bucky already spend a lot of time together. You already know each other’s habits. You already bicker like an old married couple half the time. And apparently in this universe…you just skipped the whole “figuring it out” part.
You shake your head again. “Nope,” you mutter. You stand up quickly. Mission first. Existential romantic crisis later.
You head back into the hallway and knock on Bucky’s door. He opens it a second later. He’s still in the sweatpants from earlier and now a dark t-shirt. You both pause awkwardly for half a second. Then he nods toward the hallway.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
You start walking toward the elevator together. Your shoulders almost bump. Both of you subtly adjust your steps at the same time. It’s awkward. But also weirdly easy. You both know each other’s pace without thinking. Neither of you mentions it. When you walk into the kitchen, everyone is already there. Every single one of them turns to look at you. Sam immediately grins.
“Well look who finally decided to join us.”
Your stomach drops. You force a casual smile. “Morning.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Rough morning?”
You sit down at the table quickly. “Why does everyone think that?”
Sam gestures between you and Bucky. “You two were yelling.”
Clint smirks. “Very loudly.”
You freeze. Bucky grabs a mug and starts making coffee. “Dropped something,” he says.
Sam leans back in his chair. “You drop things every morning?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re very interested in our morning routine.”
“Oh, I’m extremely invested,” Sam says.
Natasha smirks into her coffee. Bucky sets a mug in front of you.
You blink. You didn’t even ask. He already made it exactly how you like it.
Sam notices immediately. “See?” he says loudly. “Domestic.”
Your face heats. “It’s coffee.”
“You didn’t even ask for it.”
“He knows how I like it.”
Sam leans toward Steve. “Domestic.”
Steve hides a smile behind his cup. You take a sip of the coffee. Yep. Exactly right. You refuse to acknowledge that.
Natasha watches you both carefully. “You two are acting weird today.”
You almost choke. “We are not.”
“You’re quieter.”
Clint nods. “Way quieter.”
Thor looks confused. “Are they usually louder?”
“Much,” Sam says.
You glare at him. Bucky sits down beside you. Not touching. Just…close. You feel hyper aware of it.
Tony sets down his fork. “So,” he says casually, “did you two sleep well?”
You and Bucky both choke. Sam immediately bursts out laughing.
“OH my god,” he says. “You definitely slept in.”
“We did not!” you say quickly.
Natasha smirks. “You look like you did.”
You shove a piece of toast in your mouth to stop talking. Wanda tilts her head.
“Didn’t you stay in Bucky’s room last night?”
You freeze. “…What?”
She looks confused. “You usually do.”
Sam nods. “Yeah, you basically live there.”
You look at Bucky. Bucky looks at you.
Clint grins. “You might as well just move in together already. You already spend like every night together.”
Your brain short circuits. Every night. Together. You stare very hard at your toast.
Sam grins at you both. “You two are red.”
“We are not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Natasha watches you. “You two fight or something?”
“No,” you say quickly.
“Yes,” Bucky says at the exact same time.
You both look at each other.
“…What?”
“…What?”
Sam slaps the table laughing. “Oh this is gold.”
Steve stands. “Training in five.”
You and Bucky both look horrified.
--
Training is worse. Because now everyone is watching you. And training starts with sparring rounds of course.
You stand across from Bucky on the mat. Sam leans against the wall.
“This is gonna be good.”
Natasha folds her arms. “Fight like you usually do.”
You and Bucky glance at each other. “…How do we usually do it?” you whisper.
“No idea.”
“Great.”
You lunge first. Bucky blocks easily. Your movements fall into rhythm almost instantly. Years of fighting together kick in automatically. You dodge. He counters. You spin. He catches your wrist. You freeze for half a second. He lets go quickly.
Sam whistles. “You two are weird today.”
You shove Bucky lightly. “Focus.”
He smirks. “You’re the one distracted.”
You narrow your eyes. “Oh really?”
You sweep his leg. He stumbles and grabs your arm to steady himself. For a split second you’re very close. You both freeze again.
Sam groans dramatically. “Just kiss already.”
“SAM!” you yell.
“WHAT.”
Natasha is watching with a small smile. “You two are adorable.”
You groan. “This is a nightmare.”
“Agreed,” Bucky mutters beside you.
Steve claps his hands. “Alright,” he says. “A few more sparring rounds.”
You wipe sweat from your forehead and groan quietly. Of course.
Natasha smirks from across the mat. “You two again.”
Sam grins. “Yeah, let’s see if they’re still mad at each other.”
“We are not mad at each other,” you say immediately.
Bucky glances at you. “You literally swept my leg five minutes ago.”
“That was training!”
Sam points at you both. “See? Tension.”
Steve sighs, but he’s smiling a little. “Alright, let’s go.”
You step onto the mat again, rolling your shoulders. Bucky stands across from you. For a second you both just look at each other.
“…We’re doing this again?” you mutter.
“Apparently.”
Sam leans on the wall again. “Don’t hold back just because you’re dating.”
Your face burns. “We are not holding back!”
“Sure,” Clint says from the corner. “Last week you pinned him in thirty seconds.”
You freeze. “…I did?”
Clint nods. “You bragged about it for like an hour.”
Your eyes slowly shift to Bucky. You blink. Then shake your head.
“Okay.” You square up again. “Let’s go.”
You move first again. This time the rhythm is smoother. You’ve trained together so many times your bodies just…know. He blocks. You twist. He counters. You duck under his arm and shove him backward.
Sam whistles. “There it is.”
You try not to think about the fact that Bucky’s hands keep catching you before you stumble. Or that every time you step wrong he steadies you automatically. You swing again. He dodges.
At one point, your ponytail comes loose slightly, strands sticking to the side of your sweaty face.
You try to blow them away. But before you can fix it, Bucky reaches out. His fingers brush lightly against your temple as he tucks the loose strands back into your ponytail.
The movement is automatic. Effortless. Like he’s done it a thousand times. You freeze for half a second. Your heart does something weird in your chest.
“…Thanks,” you mutter.
He just nods.
Sam immediately groans from across the room. “Oh my god.”
You glare at him. “What?”
“That was disgustingly domestic.”
“It was practical!”
Natasha smirks. “Sure.”
You spin back toward Bucky quickly. “Focus.”
“Right.”
You attack again just to distract yourself. But now you’re hyper aware of everything. Every time his hand brushes your arm. Every time he steadies you. Every time he adjusts his stance slightly so you don’t collide with someone behind you.
It’s not over-the-top couple stuff. It’s small things. Subtle. Things most people wouldn’t notice. But you notice.
Because in your universe…he doesn’t do them. At least not like this.
You step back to catch your breath. Bucky immediately reaches down and grabs your water bottle from the bench. He holds it out without looking. You stare at it.
“…How did you know I was about to grab that?”
“You always do after the second round.”
Your brain stalls. “Oh.” You take it slowly. “…Right.”
Sam is watching you both again. “You two are ridiculous.”
“Why?” you ask defensively.
“You move like a married couple.”
“We are not married!”
“Yet,” Clint says.
You choke on your water. “CLINT.”
Natasha laughs quietly. Steve walks past, shaking his head. “Alright, next drill.”
You hand the bottle back to Bucky automatically. He takes it without looking. Your brains are apparently on the same weird autopilot.
The drills continue. You and Bucky end up paired together again for partner work. Of course. While Steve explains the exercise, Sam leans toward you.
“So,” he says quietly, “you two good now?”
You blink. “…What?”
“You were arguing yesterday.”
You glance at Bucky. He shrugs slightly. You quickly nod.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Sam grins. “Good. Because the silent treatment thing you two do is exhausting.”
Your brain trips. “…We do that?”
“Oh yeah,” Clint calls from the other side of the room. “You two get petty.”
Bucky mutters beside you, “That sounds accurate.”
You elbow him lightly.
“Hey.” Steve claps his hands. “Focus.”
The drill starts. This one is closer. Grappling practice. You try very hard not to think about the fact that Bucky’s hands are on your arms. Or your waist. Or that he’s standing way closer than usual.
He shifts your stance slightly. “Foot back,” he murmurs.
You adjust automatically. Your shoulder brushes his chest. Your heart flutters again. You try very hard to ignore that.
“Better,” he says.
You glance up at him. “…You’re very good at this boyfriend thing.”
The words slip out before you can stop them. His eyebrow lifts slightly.
“I’m just doing what I normally do.”
You blink. “…Right.”
Sam watches the two of you again. “You guys seem less weird now.”
You straighten quickly. “We were never weird.”
“Uh huh.”
You and Bucky exchange a quick glance. Apparently you’re faking it well enough now. But the teasing doesn’t stop. It just becomes…normal.
Sam bumps Bucky’s shoulder as everyone takes a break. “You still taking her to that place tonight?”
You freeze. “…What place?”
Sam looks confused. “The diner.”
Bucky nods slowly. “Yeah.”
You stare at him. Diner. Okay. New information.
Clint grins. “Your weekly date.”
Your brain short circuits. Weekly. Date.
Natasha smirks at your expression. “You two are very routine.”
You rub your face. “Good to know.”
Sam looks at you suspiciously. “You forget?”
“No!” You clear your throat. “I was just…thinking about something else.”
Sam shrugs. “Alright.”
Training resumes. But now your brain is spinning with all the little pieces of information you’ve gathered. You and Bucky spend most nights together. You have a weekly diner date. You fight and give each other the silent treatment.
And apparently…you’re very good at acting like a couple. Which is somehow the weirdest part of all. Because the more the morning goes on…the more natural it starts to feel.
--
Training finally ends. Everyone starts breaking off and grabbing water, stretching, or talking.
You and Bucky end up staying on the mat for a minute, stretching out sore muscles. Your shoulders ache. Your legs definitely ache.
Bucky sits on the mat beside you, stretching one arm across his chest. “…Well,” he says quietly.
You stretch forward, touching your toes. “That was horrible.”
“You handled it fine.”
“I did not,” you respond.
“You did.”
You glance sideways at him. “You kept doing boyfriend things.”
He shrugs. “They came naturally.”
“That’s concerning.”
He smirks slightly. “Maybe you just make it easy.”
You immediately look away. “Nope.”
You stand up quickly. “We should go before someone asks us more questions.”
Bucky nods. “Good idea.”
You both grab your things. A few people are still around, but no one really says anything as you leave the training room together. You exhale the second you step into the hallway.
“Okay.”
Bucky runs a hand through his hair. “So.”
“So.” You start walking toward the elevators. “New plan,” you say. “We act normal for a little longer.”
“Meaning?”
“Shower. Lunch. Normal routine.”
“And then?”
“Then we meet back up and figure out how to get to the warehouse.”
He nods slowly. “That works.”
You stop outside your door. “Alright.”
You point at him. “Go.”
“What?”
“Your room.”
He looks down the hall. “You’re kicking me out now?”
“Yes.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Fine.”
--
The shower feels amazing. The second the hot water hits your shoulders, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. It loosens the tension in your shoulders. Your brain is still spinning though.
Multiverse.
Machine.
Other universes.
You and Bucky dating.
Your brain trips over that thought again. You sigh loudly. You grab shampoo and run a hand through your hair. You try to focus on the actual problem.
Step one: figure out what your other-universe selves have been doing.
Step two: figure out how to get to the warehouse.
Step three: activate the machine again.
Simple.
Except your brain keeps drifting back to the same thought. You and Bucky. Dating. You scrub your face. It’s so weird. But…
You sigh again.
You can kind of see it. Which is the annoying part. You rinse the shampoo out of your hair. You force your brain back to the plan.
Then a thought hits you. You straighten slightly under the water.
Your phone. You put everything in your calendar. Appointments. Training. Meetings. You’ll be able to see what you’ve done in this universe the past couple weeks and what you have coming up.
You rinse off quickly. You’re almost done when there’s a knock at the door. You blink. “…Yeah?”
The bathroom door opens. “Hey.”
You jump slightly. “Bucky!”
“What?”
“I’m showering!”
“And?”
Your eyes widen. “What do you mean and?”
“I can’t see you.”
“That’s not the point!”
“Plus we’re dating so–”
“No we aren’t.”
“Technically we are in this universe.”
You close your eyes and sigh. “…Whatever. Can you at least leave so I can dry off?”
“Yeah, alright.”
The door shuts. You turn the water off and step out of the shower. Then immediately freeze.
You realize you didn’t bring clothes into the bathroom. You look toward the door. You are about 95% percent sure Bucky did not actually leave your room. You sigh.
You dry off a little bit then wrap the towel around yourself and slowly open the bathroom door. Bucky is sitting on your bed. Of course he is.
You stop in the doorway. “…Seriously?”
He looks up. “What?”
You walk to your dresser. “Can you leave so I can get dressed?”
He tilts his head. “Uhh…that’s not really gonna convince anyone we’re a couple.”
You groan loudly. “Fine. But turn around.”
“Alright.”
He rotates on the bed so his back is facing you. “Better?”
“Yes.”
You change as fast as humanly possible. You try very hard not to think about the fact that Bucky Barnes is sitting a few feet away while you’re changing clothes. You pull your shirt down quickly.
“…Okay.”
He turns back around. “So,” he says.
“So.” You sit on the bed. “I was about to check my phone.”
“For what?”
“My calendar.”
He nods. “That’s smart.”
“I put everything in there.”
“Good.”
You point at him. “You should check yours too.”
He stands up. “Alright. It’s in my room.”
You stare at him. “You came here without your phone?”
“I wasn’t thinking about that.”
You sigh. “Go get it.”
“Okay.” He heads for the door. “I’ll be back.”
The door shuts. Silence fills the room. You take a deep breath.
“Okay.”
You grab your phone off the nightstand and tap the screen – then freeze. Your background is a picture of you and Bucky.
It’s clearly a selfie. Both of you are smiling so wide your cheeks look like they hurt. The photo is slightly blurry, like it was taken mid-laugh. Bucky’s face is close to yours. Really close. His nose is almost brushing your cheek. It looks like he either just kissed your cheek or was about to.
Your stomach flips. Your heart does something stupid in your chest.
“Ugh.”
You unlock the phone quickly. Your layout is almost identical to your phone in your universe. Same apps. Same folders.
But your eyes keep drifting back to that picture.
You sigh. Then you open the photos app.
The first few pictures are random things.
Screenshots. Food. A picture of the team during training. Then—
You and Bucky again. This one is clearly taken by someone else. You’re both sitting on the compound couch. You’re leaning against his shoulder while he’s looking down at something on his phone. Your expression is soft and relaxed. He’s smiling slightly.
You stare at it. “…Okay that’s cute.”
You scroll. Another one. This time it’s a group photo. Everyone is outside the compound. But Bucky has one arm around your shoulders and you’re both laughing at something. Your head is tilted toward him.
You zoom in slightly. “…Wow.”
You scroll again. There’s a mirror selfie. You’re both in your room. You’re holding a mug and Bucky’s standing behind you with his chin resting lightly on your shoulder.
You squint at the picture. “…Did we take this at like six in the morning?” Your hair looks messy. His looks worse. But you’re both smiling.
You scroll again. A picture from what looks like the diner Clint mentioned. You’re sitting across from each other in a booth. Someone clearly took it from the next booth over. You’re mid-laugh, leaning forward. Bucky is looking at you like you just said the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Your heart flutters again.
“…Why do we look so happy?”
You scroll again. A candid one. You’re walking across the compound lawn. Bucky is slightly behind you, grabbing your hand to pull you back toward him. You’re laughing over your shoulder.
You stare at the screen. “…Oh my god.”
You zoom in. His hand is wrapped around yours. Comfortable. Easy. Like it happens all the time.
You scroll again. This one is from a mission. You’re both in tactical gear. Your helmet is off and you’re both sweaty and dirty. But you’re leaning against him while he holds the camera. Both of you look exhausted and completely happy.
You groan quietly. “This is stupid.”
You keep scrolling anyway. There are so many. Selfies. Candids. Pictures someone else took. Pictures from dinners. Training. Random moments around the compound.
In almost every one, you’re touching, or leaning against him, or standing close. Smiling. And it looks so natural and so real.
You stare at the screen. “…This is ridiculous.”
But you can’t help it. You smile a little at one of them anyway.
The door opens a few minutes later. You react instantly, closing the photos and opening your calendar. You sit up straighter just as Bucky walks back in.
He shuts the door behind him and walks over, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Find anything?” he asks.
“Not yet.”
He drops onto the bed next to you and unlocks his phone.
“…Huh.”
You look up. “What?”
He tilts the phone slightly. “Cute.”
You lean over to see. It’s a picture you hadn’t seen on your phone. Someone else clearly took it. You’re outside somewhere on the compound lawn, sunlight bright behind you. Bucky is giving you a piggyback ride. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, your faces are pressed together, and you’re both laughing. Your cheek is smushed against his and you both have huge stupid grins.
Your stomach flips. You immediately lean back. “Can you focus?”
He looks at you. “What?”
“We’re supposed to be looking for useful information.”
“I just said it’s cute.”
You roll your eyes dramatically and go back to your calendar. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Relax,” he mutters.
You scroll through your calendar. He glances over at your phone.
“What was your background?”
You stop. “…Why does it matter?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m curious.”
You keep scrolling. “Focus.”
A second passes. Then–
“Was it the same picture?”
“No.”
“Was it even me?”
You sigh loudly. “Yes.”
“I wanna see it.”
You close your eyes for a second. “…Bucky.”
“What?”
You sigh again and lock your phone. Then you tap the screen so the lock screen lights up.
The selfie appears again. Bucky studies it.
“…That’s cute too.”
You immediately unlock the phone again. “Focus.”
You look more closely at your schedule for today.
“Okay,” you say.
“What?”
“I have a meeting at two.”
“With who?”
“The whole team I’m assuming.”
He nods. “That sounds right.”
You scroll farther down. “…And apparently we have a diner date tonight.”
He snorts quietly. “Weekly.”
“Clint mentioned that.”
You scroll through the past few days. Training. Meetings. Some random things. You frown slightly. “No mission.”
“What?”
“In our universe we had that warehouse mission.”
“Right.”
You tilt the phone toward him. “Nothing like that here.”
He nods slowly. “Huh.”
You keep scrolling. The last few weeks are mostly the same routine. You sigh and toss the phone onto the bed. “Nothing helpful.”
Bucky shrugs. “Same.”
He scrolls through something else. You lean over slightly. “What are you looking at?”
“Texts.”
“Oh.”
You grab your phone again and open your messages. You scroll through conversations.
Then, you open your conversation with Bucky. It’s surprisingly short. “…Huh.”
“What?”
“We barely text.”
He glances over. “Probably because we’re always together.”
You roll your eyes. “Very funny.”
You scroll through the messages anyway.
Most of them are random messages or reminders. You keep scrolling. Then you stop.
“…Oh my god.”
“What?”
You tilt the phone away slightly. “Nothing.”
He leans closer. “What?”
You sigh. “You sent me a shirtless gym picture.”
He grins immediately. “I bet I look good.”
“No.”
Bucky laughs. “Well I’m sure you liked it in this universe.”
You roll your eyes and scroll again. Then you half laugh half groan.
“You sent me a meme that just says ‘date night?’ with a picture of a grilled cheese.”
“We were probably making grilled cheeses.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you say, closing the messages. “Nothing helpful.”
Bucky shrugs. “Maybe pictures?”
You try very hard to act normal. “Yeah.”
You open the photos app again. Bucky immediately starts scrolling through his. A second later he turns the phone toward you.
“Look at this one.”
It’s another picture of the two of you. This one you saw earlier. The couch one.
“Nice,” you say quickly.
He scrolls again. “Oh, look at this one.”
He shows you another. You both look half-asleep in the compound kitchen. His chin is resting on your shoulder, similar to the mirror picture you saw.
You sigh. “Okay.”
He scrolls again. “Oh wow.”
“What now?”
He turns the phone. It’s a picture of you sitting cross-legged on the training mat. Your hair is a mess and you’re glaring at the camera.
You groan. “Oh my god.”
Bucky laughs. “You look so mad.”
“Because I probably was.”
He scrolls again. “Oh this is embarrassing.”
“What?”
He shows you another one. It’s a selfie you apparently took of him while he was asleep on the couch. His mouth is slightly open and you’re doing a thumbs up.
You burst out laughing.
“I’m not proud of that,” he says, shaking his head.
He scrolls again.
“Wait.”
“What?”
He shows you another one. You’re both at the diner again. But this time you’re sitting on the same side of the booth. Your head is leaning on his shoulder while you’re looking at the menu.
Your heart does that stupid flutter thing again. You try to ignore it.
“I’m assuming this is at the diner,” he says.
“Yeah.”
You scroll for a few more minutes.
“Anything useful?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “Not really.”
You open a few other apps. Notes, maps, but don’t find anything helpful. You sigh and fall back onto the bed. “Well.”
Bucky sets his phone down. “That was productive.”
“Not really.”
You stare at the ceiling. “…At least we know we’re cute.”
He snorts. You immediately sit up.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure.”
You point at him. “Focus.”
He’s still half-smirking at you. You narrow your eyes.
“What.”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing that face.”
“What face?”
“The I know something you don’t face.”
He leans back against the headboard. “I’m just saying.”
“Oh no.”
“You’re the one who said we’re cute.”
You groan and drop back against the mattress. “That is not what I meant.”
“Sure.”
You point at him again. “We need to decide what we’re doing.”
“Right.”
You sit up again. “I think we should just tell Steve.”
Bucky tilts his head. “Already?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because this is ridiculous!” You gesture between the two of you. “We’re pretending to be ourselves in a universe where we’re apparently dating and living the same life except not exactly and we don’t know anything about what’s happened here!”
He nods slowly. “Fair.”
“So we tell Steve.”
Bucky thinks about it. Then shakes his head slightly. “I think we should wait.”
You blink. “Why?”
“Because we still don’t know how different this universe is.”
You cross your arms. “So?”
“So maybe we gather a little more information first.”
You sigh. “Like what?”
“The meeting.”
You pause. “…Right.”
You forgot about that. You glance at your phone.
“Two o’clock.”
“Exactly.”
You groan. “That’s hours away.”
He shrugs. “We go to lunch.”
“And?”
“Hang around.”
You stare at him. “This is the worst plan.”
“It’s a patient plan.”
“It’s a slow plan.”
He smirks. “You’re impatient.”
You shake your head. “I’m practical.”
“Sure.”
You sigh dramatically and stand up. “Fine. Lunch.”
“Lunch,” he agrees.
--
The kitchen is busy again when you walk in. Everyone is already there.
Sam looks up the second you and Bucky walk in.
“Look who it is.”
You sigh. “Don’t start.”
“Start what?”
“The commentary.”
He grins. “Relax. You two seem normal again.”
You glance at Bucky. “…Normal?”
Clint nods. “Less weird.”
Bucky moves past you toward the fridge while you grab a plate. Conversation flows around the table, mostly the same kind of random chatter you’re used to.
At one point Wanda asks Thor about something from a mission. Clint argues with Sam about football. It all feels…normal. Almost exactly like your universe. You relax slightly. Maybe this universe isn’t that different after all.
There’s food laid out to make sandwiches, so you and Bucky do what you always do whenever there’s sandwiches for lunch. You each make your own sandwich, easily moving around each other and handing each other stuff because you know exactly what the other needs next. Then, once the sandwiches are made, you each cut yours in half and trade one half for the other, so you each have a half of each sandwich.
When you start walking towards the table, you realize everyone is staring.
“…Wow,” Tony says.
You look at him. “What?”
“You guys were…weirdly synced up while making those.”
“And did you guys just trade halves?” Sam says, laughing.
“Uhh, yeah,” you say. “And?”
Clint grins. “I’ve never seen something more…coupley.”
“Yeah, that was kinda gross,” Nat agrees.
“I think it’s cute,” Wanda says.
Steve just tries to hide a proud grin.
You glance over at Bucky, realizing that in this universe, you must not do the famous “sandwich swap” as everyone else calls it. In your universe, they think it’s funny. In this universe, they think it’s a couple thing. Which makes you realize it really does look like a couple thing.
You make your way to the table and sit down, with Bucky sitting right next to you.
Natasha smirks. “You two are ridiculous.”
You feel your face heating up.
Sam grins. “You two are so obvious.”
You shove your sandwich into your mouth just to avoid talking.
--
After lunch everyone ends up lingering in the common room. Sam and Clint are arguing over something on TV. Thor is explaining something loudly to Bruce. Natasha is reading on the couch.
You sit in one of the chairs with Bucky beside you. “Anything different?” you murmur.
“Not really.”
You nod slightly. “So far everything seems the same.”
“Mostly.”
Steve walks through at one point. “Meeting in ten.”
You sigh. “Great.”
The meeting takes forever. And it’s about the most boring thing possible. A follow-up discussion about a mission from a few months ago. You sit at the table beside Bucky trying very hard to look interested, but your brain is already fried.
Halfway through you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You glance down under the table.
Bucky: Did we do this mission in our universe?
You type back quickly.
You: Yeah but we wrapped it up faster
Bucky: This meeting is brutal
You glance sideways at him. He’s staring forward like he’s paying attention. You bite back a smile and type.
You: Focus
Bucky: No
You kick his foot lightly under the table. He doesn’t react. Steve finally finishes the meeting nearly an hour later. “Alright,” he says. “That’s it for today.”
You exhale. Finally. You get up to leave and head to Bucky’s room.
You drop onto the bed. “…Okay.”
Bucky shuts the door. “So.”
“So.” You sit up again. “Do we go tell Steve now?”
He leans against the dresser. “Well…”
You stare at him. “What.”
“Our diner date.”
Your brain stalls. “…Oh.” You forgot about that. You stare at him. “Do you want to go?”
He shrugs. “I’ve been thinking about those burgers all day.”
You laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
He grins. “So?”
You sigh. “Fine. We can go. Then we figure out the warehouse tonight.”
He nods. “Deal.”
He sits down on the bed next to you.
“Okay,” you say. “Let’s find diner pictures to see what time we usually go.”
You both open your phones. You scroll through photos again.
“Here,” Bucky says.
He turns the phone toward you. It’s another diner picture. You’re sitting across from him holding a milkshake. He’s halfway through a burger.
“This was around 8:15,” he says.
“So we go around eight.”
You scroll farther. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
You turn your phone. It’s a picture of Bucky trying to fit an entire stack of fries into his mouth.
He squints at it. “…Delete that.”
“No.”
He scrolls again. “Oh wow.”
“What now?”
He turns the phone. It’s a picture of you at the diner with food all over your face. Your hand is blurry with a napkin in it like you were trying to wipe it off, but Bucky took the picture before you had the chance.
You groan. “You’re lucky you have super soldier reflexes.”
He just laughs.
You scroll more, then find a picture where you’re both in the kitchen wearing matching hoodies. You freeze.
“…Are those the same hoodie?”
Bucky squints. “…I think so.”
You both stare at the picture. Then quickly scroll past it.
You scroll through more photos.
Some from missions. Some from training. Some random ones around the compound. One where Sam clearly shoved both of you into a photo together. One where Bucky is making a stupid face behind you while you’re brushing your teeth.
You burst out laughing. “You look ridiculous.”
“You’re the one taking a picture while you brush your teeth.”
You scroll again. You find another candid. You’re both sitting outside on the compound steps watching the sunset. You’re leaning against his shoulder. You stare at the picture a little longer than you mean to.
Bucky nudges you.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing.”
You keep scrolling. Eventually both of you lean back against the headboard. Your shoulders press together naturally. Neither of you moves. You keep showing each other pictures and laughing, and groaning at embarrassing ones.
You shake your head. “This is humiliating.”
“Some of these are great.”
You glance at him. “…They are.”
You scroll to another picture. This one is a blurry selfie where you’re both laughing so hard the photo shook. You smile despite yourself. You hate how warm your chest feels. You glance sideways at him. He’s smiling at the picture too. Your heart flutters again.
You quickly look back at your phone. But a quiet thought slips through your brain anyway. Despite everything. Despite the stress. Despite not knowing how you’ll get home. You realize something.
As long as Bucky’s here, you’ll be okay.
And you really, really try not to think about what that might mean.
--
By the time you leave the compound, the sun is starting to dip lower in the sky.
You and Bucky walk side by side down the sidewalk toward the little diner a few blocks away. The air is cooler now, and the quiet of the evening makes everything feel strangely normal. Which is weird, because nothing about today has been normal.
You shove your hands into your jacket pockets. “What if this doesn’t work?” you ask.
“What?”
“If Steve doesn’t believe us.”
Bucky shrugs slightly. “Then we steal a jet.”
You snort. “That’s your backup plan?”
“Worked earlier.”
“We didn’t steal anything earlier.”
“We talked about it.”
“That’s not the same.”
He glances at you with a small smirk. “You’re still considering it.”
“…Maybe.”
The diner comes into view at the corner. You both slow slightly. “Alright,” you say. “Game faces.”
Bucky raises an eyebrow. “For burgers?”
“For pretending we know what we’re doing.”
He pushes the door open. The bell above it jingles. Immediately the smell of fries and grilled burgers fills the air. Your stomach growls.
“Okay,” you admit. “Maybe this part isn’t so bad.”
You slide into a booth near the window. Bucky sits across from you. You barely have time to look at the menu before a waitress walks over. She smiles brightly when she sees you.
“Well hey there.”
You blink. “Hi.”
Without asking anything, she sets two drinks down. Then a milkshake. With two straws. You and Bucky both stare at it.
“Your usual?” she asks casually.
You and Bucky glance at each other. Then back at her.
“Yeah,” you say carefully.
She nods. “Alright, that’ll be right out.”
She disappears toward the kitchen. You both stare at the milkshake. Then you both start laughing quietly.
“She knows us,” you say.
“Apparently.”
You tap the side of the glass. “Shared milkshake. Very romantic.”
He smirks. You both take a sip. It’s really good.
You lean back in the booth. “Okay,” you say. “Plan.”
“Right.”
You lower your voice slightly. “We tell Steve everything.”
Bucky nods.
You sigh. “I just hope he believes us.”
“He probably will.”
“You sound very confident.”
“He’s dealt with stranger things.”
“That’s fair.”
The waitress returns a few minutes later and drops two plates in front of you. Both have a cheeseburger with fries piled high on the sides.
“Enjoy,” she says with a smile.
“Thank you,” you say.
She walks away as you pick up your burger and take a bite. Your eyes widen. “Oh wow.”
Bucky laughs. “Told you.”
You both eat for a few minutes. The tension of the day slowly fades a little. But eventually you set your burger down.
“We should go after this.”
He nods. “We need to figure this out.”
“And we have no idea what’s happening in our universe.”
“Exactly.”
You both finish eating. Bucky grabs the check before you can even look at it.
“You don’t have to–”
He shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
He pays quickly. A few minutes later you’re walking back toward the compound. The common room is busy when you walk back in.
They all look up. Sam immediately grins. “Well?”
You blink. “Well what?”
“The date.”
You sigh. “It was good.”
Clint smirks. “Burgers?”
“Yes.”
Bucky looks over at Steve, who’s standing near the table. “Hey Steve?”
Steve looks up. “Yeah?”
“Can we talk?”
Steve nods immediately. “Sure.”
You and Bucky start walking toward the hallway. Steve follows you. You lead the way back to Bucky’s room. Once the door shuts behind you, Steve looks between the two of you.
“What’s going on?”
Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “…Okay.”
Steve’s expression grows slightly concerned.
“This is gonna sound really weird,” Bucky says.
Steve nods slowly.
“But you have to trust me.”
Steve folds his arms. “…Okay.”
Bucky takes a breath. “We’re not from this universe.”
Steve blinks. Silence fills the room.
You add quickly, “We were on a mission.”
Steve looks between you again. “What kind of mission?”
“We were looking for intel,” you explain. “We thought it was related to multiverse experiments.”
Steve’s brow furrows. Bucky continues.
“We found some tech there too.”
“And we accidentally triggered a machine,” you say.
Steve’s expression grows more confused.
“And it sent us here,” Bucky finishes.
Another pause. Steve looks…very lost. And a little concerned.
Bucky gestures vaguely. “That’s why we were yelling this morning.”
Steve blinks. “…What?”
“When we woke up,” you say quickly. “We had no idea where we were.”
“And also we were cuddling,” Bucky adds.
You bury your face in your hands. “Bucky.”
“What?”
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Cuddling?”
“We’re not dating in our universe,” Bucky explains.
Steve slowly nods. “…Okay.”
He thinks for a second. “You were acting really weird this morning.”
You nod. “Yeah.”
Steve rubs his chin. “Wait.” He looks up. “Where is this warehouse?”
“Romania,” Bucky answers.
Steve’s eyes widen slightly. “Romania?”
You nod. “You have that intel too?”
Steve exhales. “We just got word about this a few days ago.”
You blink. “Really?”
He nods. “We don’t have much information yet.”
He closes the folder. “So actually…” He looks between you both. “This helps.”
You feel a small spark of relief. “So you believe us?” you ask.
Steve nods slowly. “…Yeah.”
You and Bucky exchange a quick look. Steve straightens slightly.
“Then we should go. If that machine sent you here, maybe it can send you back.”
“That’s what we were thinking,” you say.
“Okay,” Steve says. “Do you guys know how to get there?”
“Yes,” Bucky answers.
“Alright. Get suited up, meet at the jet in 10.”
As soon as Steve leaves, you glance over at Bucky. “That went better than expected.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
You leave to get ready, then you walk into the hangar the same time Bucky does. When Steve comes in a few minutes later, he says that he told the team they’d be leaving and that he’d explain when he got back.
You get on the jet and it’s not long before you’re in the air.
“This could work,” you say quietly.
Bucky nods. “I think so.”
“Unless it sends us somewhere else.”
He smirks slightly. “…Let’s not think about that.”
The flight is quiet. The warehouse sits in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and empty fields. You land about a mile out. Steve powers the jet down.
“You two lead the way,” he says.
You nod. You and Bucky head toward the treeline. The walk is quick. Adrenaline pushes you forward. Soon the warehouse comes into view. It’s dark and silent, exactly like the first time.
“Clear,” Bucky mutters as you enter.
The building echoes softly with your footsteps as you make your way to the room. You stop in the doorway.
“It’s the same,” you say.
The equipment is exactly where it was. The circular platform in the floor. The consoles along the walls. Steve steps inside slowly.
“This is it?”
“Yeah,” Bucky says.
You walk over to the console. “Now we just have to remember what we did.”
You stare at the controls. Bucky starts checking cables. Steve watches from a few steps back.
“Try that,” Bucky says.
You press a button. Nothing happens. “Great.”
You flip a switch. Still nothing. Bucky suddenly reaches over and reconnects one of the loose cables. The console hums to life. Lights flicker across the platform. You jump slightly. The platform begins to glow.
Steve steps back immediately. “Alright,” he says. “Looks like it’s working.”
You glance at Bucky. He nods. “Ready?”
“As we’ll ever be.”
You both step toward the platform. The air begins to vibrate. That same low hum fills the room. Steve watches carefully from the corner of the room.
“Good luck,” he says.
You take one more breath. Then you both step onto the platform. The light intensifies. Your vision bends. Your stomach flips violently.
Summary: Set in No Way Home, Peter finds you, his deceased lover from his universe.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, grief, very in love Peter!
part count: 1/2!
———————————————
"I lost Y/N. She was my... She was my MJ."
You froze in your tracks. Breathing was becoming harder and harder. It could've been because of the cold night weather of New York, or maybe because in front of you stood a man, that seemed so heartbreakingly in love with you; or better said, a version of you.
You had met this Peter Parker only a few hours prior. Everything happened so fast. You remember impatiently waiting with MJ in your living room, eyes glued to the TV, waiting for your universe's Peter to show signs of life.
Aunt Mary had passed away in his arms, the government and authorities now turning on him, intending to capture him, yet he seemed to have gotten away. However, he hadn't gotten in contact with you guys, not even with MJ, who Peter endlessly loved. You remember checking your phone every two minutes, just hoping Peter would contact you. After all, you had been his best friend for so long, for as long as you can remember.
"I just wish we could see him." You desperately waved your arms in front of your face. The simple actions causing sparks right in front of you both. MJ's face grew in confusion, softly tapping your shoulder.
"Do that again." She said, her eyes still looking ahead. You wished you knew what you had done, you simply did not know. Your eyes trailed down to the ring you had previously stolen from Doctor Strange. Copy him, that must be the answer, you thought. And so you lifted both your arms, mimicking the way Doctor Strange opened portals, and you tried again.
"I can't do it. I just... I don't know how to do this!"
"Yes, you can. We need to get to Peter. You can do this, Y/N." MJ assured you, her eyes begging to you simply try. You nodded, a shaky breath leaving your lips, lifting your hands yet again.
"I just wish we could see him!" You said louder this time, doing the circular motion with your hands, and open it did. A portal had opened. You looked at MJ, breathlessly chuckling at her, shocked by your newly found talent.
The portal had opened in what looked to be a street. The night sky being reflected on the puddles of water in the floor, and by the very end, stood Peter. It was difficult to see him, being completely honest, but you recognized the red suit. A gasp from MJ took you out of the trace you were in. MJ started waiving down Peter, calling out his name. Soon enough, Peter had seen you both, and began making his way to you. You saw him run slower as he actually got a good look at you both. You could have sworn you had see him physically taken back by something. He catiously walked into your living room, carefully and awfully slowly looking around your apartment. If you only knew how familiar everything was to the man standing in front of you.
"Y/N?" His voice shook, and shuttered as he spoke. Your eyes widened gently at the mention of your name. MJ and yourself knew this wasn't Peter. This man was much taller, his build being very different from Peter. Who was this man? And more importantly, how did he know your name?
"Who... Who are you?" You asked, anxiously.
"It's me. I..." The man tenderly spoke, his hands running to remove his mask, revealing his face. You took a step back without even realizing it. His face read sadness, confusion and even desperation. "It's me, Peter." He continued to speak, how voice becoming softer by every word that left his lips. He was handsome, truly the type to take your breath away. Your breath had even hitched by the sight of such a pretty man, standing in your living room. But he was not your Peter. And he knew you were not his Y/N, but God, he couldn't stop his walls from coming crashing down by the sight of the love of his life, alive and well.
"You're not Peter. It's not possible." MJ said after a long pause, shaking her head continiously. The man, Peter, slowly adverted his gaze towards MJ, as if needing to keep you in his sight at all times. He sighed softly, trying to find a way of explaining.
"I am Spider-Man. Peter Parker if you will... in my world. But then, yesterday, all of the sudden..." He tried explaining, his words spilling from his mouth as he paced around the room. You simply watched his tall frame.
"Prove it."
"What?"
"Prove it, that you're Peter Parker." MJ demanded, earning a small grin from the man.
"Well, I don't... carry my ID with me, it kinda defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing." He joked, earning a small laugh from you. He could've sworn this was heaven, the sweet sound of your laughter. He looked at you, smiling at you, yet his eyes only carried grief, and now you understood why.
"Hang from the ceiling." You finally spoke, the lovely melody of your voice bringing him peace. He breathlessly chuckled, you even saw his chest sink at your words. He shook his head, looking to the floor.
"God, you're... That's exactly what she said." He chuckled sorrowfully, his hands running through his face, as he recalled the time he first told you that he was Spider-Man. Well, to his world's version of you. He remembered how hard he laughed once you asked him to simply hang from the ceiling to prove himself. This was all too familiar.
"Sure." His words were short, instantly doing as you asked. hoping lightly towards the ceiling, and hanging from it by this sticky hand. You smiled a bit at the action, nodding your head. You looked to MJ besides you, this was was Peter Parker from one of the many other universes.
You gulped, your eyes meeting Peter's eyes, the tears filled to the brim, as he tried to not break down crying in front of all of you. It seemed like on his universe, you were together. It seemed like such a crazy idea to you. You had never even thought of the possibility of dating Peter, he had been your childhood best friend, you only saw him as a brother. Yet, in another life, he was your one true love. Your heart ached at the single sight of that man, so visibly broken by the simple fact that he had lost you. You had meant everything to somebody, and your absence deeply affected him. It was all so overwhelming to comprehend.
You had never been anyone important. Your entire life, you had been invisible. Nobody had loved you yet. Years of life and you had never even experienced a confession. So how could you understand that in another life, someone had loved you this much? So much to the point of referring to you as 'his version of MJ'? The love MJ and Peter shared was so undeniably unconditional. Unweavering. You thought of them when thinking of real love. And this man said he loved you just as much. Your skin covered in goosebumps at the thought.
"I tried to... keep going. To keep being that friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, because I know that's what she would've wanted. But I..." Peter added, the lump in his throat making it impossible to speak. He couldn't stop his body from pointing at you when mentioning your name, His voice sounded so devastated, so genuinely crushed. MJ, who held Peter's hand, looked your way, her eyes saddened by the story.
"At some point, I just... stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. Bitter." He continued, hissing painfully, remembering how hard it was for him after you were gone. You didn't even notice you were crying until tears streamed down your face.
"She was..." A small, shattered chuckle left his lips. "Yeah, she was everything. And I couldn't save her. I won't ever forgive myself for that." He finished, sniffling gently, his eyes glued to yours. He looked away as soon as he noticed your tears, cursing under his breath, wiping his own tear filled face.
Truthfully, you didn't know how you all had ended up by the Midtown High Laboratory, you had disassociated after Peter's story. Peter bit his lip, standing by the other end of the lab, noticing how distraught you looked. He thought it would be best to keep his distance, not wanting to smother you. Even if he missed you so much he could not breath, you weren't his Y/N, and he needed to come to terms with that. That didn't mean he could keep his eyes off your beautiful face, his eyes were simply drawn to your inmense beauty, having had forgotten just how gorgeous you were.
They were all working on cures, and Peter focused on Connors, having already cured him in the past, he knew what he had to do. He decided to drown himself in his work, trying his hardest to forget your presence. But God, it was impossible. He couldn't stop from thinking of you. From comparing you. You just acted exactly like her, dressed just the same, talked as sweetly as her. You were his Y/N, yet you weren't. He was so conflicted. Gosh, he just wanted to embrace you, and kiss those sweet lips he fell in love with. He dreamed of the way your soft skin would feel under his touch, warm and as soft as always.
He couldn’t stop reminiscing of the way you would love him. You were just so endearing, you did everything for Peter and his happiness. His wellbeing was your passion, often working on new add ons for his suit, further ensuring his security.
You were so loving. You would always find sweet ways to show him just how much you loved him. Your tender kisses and caresses were his need. He found himself smiling as he remembered your sweet details. Small, wholesome letters in his backpack. I love you's written on the computing of this mask. He remembered coming home to you everyday, you'd always try to wait for him, welcoming him by jumping in his arms and planting kisses all over his faces. But whenever you’d fall asleep before he got home, you'd always be wearing one of his shirts, as if needing something of his, his scent to be able to rest. He jumped in his seat, being taken out of his thoughts by you. Your touch.
"How's it going?" You asked, offering him a smile. His eyes looked at his shoulder, just looking at your hand on his skin. You followed his gaze, noticing how his skin was fully covered in goosebumps, and all by your simple touch. You sat next to him, looking at what he was working on. He cleared his throat, nodding his head, smiling a bit.
"Good. Pretty good. I'm almost done." He replied, smiling at you, almost finishing up the serum. You nodded, watching him. It felt good being close him, as if electric. "I just need to fill my webs, just in case" He chuckled.
"I can help you with that!" You said, sitting up straight, excited to help out. He looked at you, a bit shocked.
"You know how to do that?" He asked, earning a scoff from you.
"Do I know... Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" You joked, grabbing his gadgets from him, shaking your head at him, smiles plastered on both your lips. He laughed, genuinely this time.
"Wow, you're just..." He started, looking at you. You met his eyes, lifting your eyebrows in curiosity. "Sorry." He chuckled, shaking his head. You shook yours, nudging him a bit, interested in what he wanted to say.
"What?" You giggled a bit, and Peter melted.
"You just exactly like her." You could hear his suffering in his voice as he spoke. Peter breathlessly laughed a bit, shaking his head, not wanting to tear up again, but it was hard. He still hadn't been strong enough to talk about you without crying. Your hands softened around the gadget, locking eyes with him.
"Yeah?" You asked, wanting to know more. About you. About the relationship you shared with this man. You wanted to know it all. He nodded his head rapidly.
"God, yes, it's almost terrifying." He chuckled.
"Could you... tell me about her?" You asked, scared of possibly hurting him. Peter's eyes softly widened at your request, before gently nodding his head.
"Yeah, you were... I mean, She..." He trailed off, both of you giggling gently. All this universe talk was definitely confusing. "She was just perfect." He continued, a small smile on his face.
"We met in college, y'know? Not that we studied in the same uni, I met her by chance. I was lucky." Peter nodded his head, truly believing he was incredibly blessed. "Met her one day while I was walking home. It was pouring rain, and I never really carry an umbrella; It's a.... hard thing to hide if I were to quickly change into the suit, y'know?" He chuckled, his head tilting as he recalled that special day. Your laugh complimented his.
"I was drenched, and it had been awfully cold around Queens." He continued, and you listened. You had begun to notice small, lovely things about Peter, like how he talked with his hands. "And in she came, running towards me; a total stranger to her, by the way." He jestered, earning another giggle from you. "But she, uh... shared her umbrella with me, going on and on about the unusual weather of New York, not that I cared, I was too busy admiring... her. It was a small, kind gesture, but it truly just..." He trailed off again, and you couldn't help but pout.
"So cute. I remember how she got herself wet, running after me, to shield me from the rain." He chuckled, biting his lip after shaking his head in endearment. "But, yeah. I knew instantly, really. And I think she did, too? 'Cause we started going out soon after that. And it was just perfect, she was perfect."
"I had it all. I had never been so happy, I swear." Peter expressed, meeting your eyes for a quick moment. "She was the calm in my chaos. Just perfection, I can't explain it." He chuckled, trying his hardest to find the words. Your hand ran to lay on top of his.
"It's okay, Peter. We don't have to talk about this."
"No, I want to. Talk about her." He said softly, nodding his head, a sad smile on his face. You nodded your head, allowing him the space to talk about it, if he'd like.
"She was it; I know it now and I knew it then. We had plans, dreams, things we wanted to do together... and it all got taken away from me." Peter's voice shook as he spoke, his head dropping lightly. "We were together for so long, but it wasn't enough, it could never be. I needed more. I needed a life by her side, hell, I had planned it. And it was all stolen from me."
"How did she..." You couldn't even finish your sentence, Peter already knew what you meant.
"Just didn't protect her like I should've." His breath trembled, your hand squeezed his gently. His eyes carefully met yours.
"It wasn't your fault, Peter." You consoled him, the words bringing solace to the broken man sitting besides you. "Stop blaming yourself. I'm sure she would've liked that." You continued on, now interlacing your fingers with him. Peter felt as if he were on cloud nine. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't take all this. He couldn't dare to break eye contact with your pretty eyes, he was too far gone. He was awe-struck, fawning over the features of yours he simply adored. His eyes roamed your face, soon landing on those lips of yours. It was taking everything in him, and from you too.
You couldn't deny the obvious attraction you felt for Peter. He was everything you had ever asked for. He was smart, funny and kind, and that physic of his was no joke either. You wanted him. You genuinely did, but he could never be yours. He would be gone soon, and to never see again.
You mustn't allow yourself to fall for this mysterious man.
hiiiii :) i love your fics soooooooo much!! i have a request for you: Kate fingering Y/N in front of the mirror while she whispers VERY DIRTY stuff in her ear :) thnx, luv ya 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
[everything you touch just feels like yours to me - k.b]
summary: it’s become a rarity for you and kate to make it to events on time. especially when she can’t keep her hands to herself
pairing: kate bishop x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT‼️MINORS DNI, boyfriend!kate and also dom!kate, dirty talk, kate fingering R in front of a mirror
word count: 2.2k
a/n: i hope this was the nsfw you were hoping for, lovely anon 🤭 also, i’m excited to start writing for ficmas! but as a result, that might mean a shortage of non-ficmas fics like this one. it all depends on my mood. but in the meantime, i hope you all enjoy this one! <3
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Six o’clock.
That was the time that Kate’s mother expected the two of you over for dinner. You had been there to listen in on the call, and you’d heard Kate say, “We’ll be there on time, pinky swear,” but you kind of figured she was talking out of her ass. And she very much had been. Because here it was ten minutes past six, and neither one of you had left Kate’s loft yet. But you were dressed, at the very least.
You stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom (Kate’s bedroom, but semantics) in a haze of warm perfume, smiling at your reflection. You really wanted this night to go off without a hitch. You really wanted Kate’s mom to like you, and for your awkward first meeting to become a distant memory in her head.
The first time you met Eleanor, it wasn’t planned. And you definitely weren’t ready. It was in passing at a coffee shop. She’d shown up at the same one as you and Kate, and happened to get in line behind the two of you at the precise moment that Kate squeezed your ass and whispered a dirty joke in your ear. (It actually surprised you how unopposed Kate was to PDA)
The pointed throat clear from your girlfriend’s mother was enough to stop your heart entirely. Though Eleanor had no way of knowing what her daughter had whispered in your ear, your cheeks burned as if Kate had shouted it for the whole coffee shop to hear. There had been an awkward exchange of greetings after that and, after picking up her coffee order, Eleanor left as quickly as she’d arrived. You had been mortified, but Kate was doubled over with laughter. You’d made a mental note to kill her later.
After that humiliating introduction, you’d basically begged Kate to help you get a do-over, which brought you to tonight: your plans to go with Kate to Eleanor’s for a nice dinner. And you would’ve liked to be on time. To show Eleanor that you could be punctual, responsible, and respectful if given the opportunity to prove it. But one thing you’ve learned since dating Kate is…you were never going to fucking be on time for anything.
You assess your appearance in the standing mirror, smoothing your hands down the material of your dress. It’s made of beautiful emerald silk and it’s your favorite dress that you own. Kate had tried persuading you more than once to let her take you shopping, but you’d refused every plea and puppy-eyed stare. You thought it would be ridiculous for Kate to break the bank on a new dress just for one evening. Your favorite emerald dress would suffice. And it was your favorite for a reason. It flattered you, accentuating all the right areas.
Kate’s reflection joins yours in the mirror, and you track her with your eyes as she moves to stand behind you. “We’re late, Kate,” you say.
She coos sympathetically, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I know, baby, but my hair wouldn’t cooperate,”
You scoff. “You wear your hair in the same two styles every day. It couldn’t have been that hard to get it to cooperate,”
“Okay, I lied. I was just stalling,” Kate says, shifting to place her hands on your stomach, and sending an unsolicited tingle up your back in the process. Your eyes fall on her hands over your stomach, and you notice the rings she’s wearing. Rings that you bought for her. Kate had never really been a big jewelry gal, but you always thought rings would suit her, and so whenever you came across any fancy-looking ones, you bought them. And you’re glad you did. You’ve always been a fan of Kate’s hands. Adding rings into the mix only made them hotter.
“I’m glad you wouldn’t let me buy you a new dress,” Kate speaks, knocking you out of your temporary daze.
You look up, catching her heated gaze through the mirror. “Yeah? Why is that?” You ask.
“Because you look so much better in this little number than anything I would’ve picked out,” Kate’s hands travel from your stomach to your hips, which she squeezes lightly. You catch yourself just in time, a soft gasp on the tip of your tongue.
Impervious to how affected you already are, Kate keeps talking. “And have I ever told you that green is your color, baby?”
You shake your head, trying and failing to keep from staring at Kate’s reflection in the mirror. Her beautiful reflection. She’s wearing black trousers and a crisp white button-up. You can’t remember if it’s one that you bought for her. You’ve bought Kate a handful of clothing items in the eight months that you’ve been together. Your tax bracket was nowhere near hers, and you can’t spoil her as often as she can spoil you. But sometimes, the clothes just call you. And by call you, you mean you find something Kate would look hot in, and you buy it without checking the price tag.
“Well, it is,” Kate is still speaking, her mouth dangerously close to your ear now. “Green is such a sexy color on you,”
Her left hand stays on your hip while the right one begins to travel toward your thigh. Your breath hitches. “Kate—“ you start, a half-baked protest at best.
“Mhm?” She hums, her warm breath fanning over your ear and making you audibly shiver.
“We’re late,” is all that you can manage to say. Even though you know Kate is very aware of this, and doesn’t need the reminder. And probably doesn’t care about it either.
“Mhm,” Kate hums again, nuzzling her nose against your shoulder. Her right hand slides dangerously closer to your inner thighs, which you’re now squeezing together, fighting against everything to ignore you growing arousal. Kate knew what the hell she was doing. There’s no way she didn’t.
Kate’s right hand finally slides just under the fabric of your dress, and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. “I…I really wanted to be on time tonight,” You stammer. “Make a good impression…” But your body told a completely different story. Your back presses flush against Kate’s chest as you lean into her touch. She welcomes the embrace, her left hand squeezing your hip; the other absorbing the warmth of your thigh and kneading the soft muscles.
You’re just shy of uttering a soft “oh god” as you feel Kate start to massage your thigh, and your head drops against her shoulder. You don’t have much fight left in you. You’re so close to giving in.
“C’mon, baby, we’re already ten minutes late,” Kate whispers in your ear. “What’s another ten? Or twenty? I’ll make something up.” Her hand is hovering over your heat now, and your heartbeat is dancing in your chest.
“You get ten,” you breathe.
“That’s all I need,” is her reply. And then she slides your panties aside and starts right away, circling you at a maddening pace.
Your eyes flutter shut, a soft moan escaping your lips.
“No, no, baby, open your eyes,” Kate mumbles, her words accented with a few playful nips of your earlobe. “Eyes open. Look at your reflection,”
You open your eyes at Kate’s behest, looking at yours and her reflection in the mirror, watching the mirrored version of you receive pleasure from the mirrored version of her.
“Is that fast enough for you, baby?” Kate says, her fingers observing that same slow pace. Her thumb brushes your clit every other second, but the stimulation isn’t significant enough to do anything but tease you.
“N-no,” you manage to say. “Kate, please,”
“Please what, baby? I know you’re gonna use your good manners for me, aren’t you?” Kate kisses a trail from your earlobe down to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder—otherwise known as one of your many sweet spots.
“Please, please, it’s not enough. I need more pressure,” you whimper, bucking your hips desperately against the brief touch, trying to get the friction Kate is stubbornly denying you.
“You want me deeper, don’t you?” Her question is whispered against the crook of your neck.
“Yes…god, please,” You respond. Maybe your desperation would’ve embarrassed you, if you could think about anything other than Kate’s fingers, and what they should be doing to you but aren’t quite yet.
But Kate’s game of torture finally ceases as she gracefully slides one, and then two fingers into you. You don’t know who moans louder at the intrusion; you or her, seeing as Kate gets off just as much as you do when she touches you like this.
Your head is spinning. All you can feel is the fullness of Kate’s fingers inside of you, all you can smell is her perfume, and all you can hear are her dirty, suggestive phrases whispered into your ear.
“I did you a favor, didn’t I, baby?” She says, her fingers curling inside you in a way that almost makes your legs give out beneath you. “…by keeping you here. There’s no way you could’ve left the house so wet like this. I helped you out, didn’t I? You needed this, baby. Needed my fingers inside that pretty little pussy,”
You’re past the point of being able to respond with words, so all you do is nod as you rest your hand over Kate’s, feeling the muscles of her hand working as she fucks into you.
“Look at yourself in the mirror, baby. Watch what I’m doing to you,” Kate instructs.
You hadn’t even realized that you’d closed your eyes again. Not that you could help yourself. Your eyes flutter open again and you look at yourself in the mirror. You take in your own flushed cheeks, your half-lidded eyes, Kate’s left hand holding firm on your hip, her right one buried beneath your dress. You watch as your reflection bucks her hips, as she moans out for Kate. You watch Kate’s reflection kiss your reflection’s neck and sink her teeth into her skin.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” Kate mumbles into your ear. “So beautiful and so perfect. I can’t believe you’re mine. I’ll never get over it,”
Despite the sensuality of the situation, Kate’s whispered words make your heart flutter.
“I’m so glad to be yours,” You breathe, your hips twitching around Kate’s skilled hand as you speak. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s. Only yours,”
“Only mine,” Kate’s tongue runs over the peak of your shoulder. “All mine. Say it, baby. Say it again. Tell me you’re all mine,”
“I’m all yours, Kate,” you mimic.
“Again. Say it again,” You feel Kate’s hips rock against you softly from behind, and again, you fear your legs might give out any minute.
“I’m all yours, Kate, only yours,”
“One more time, baby,” Kate’s teeth gnash gently against your shoulder, before soothing the area with her tongue. Her fingers pick up their pace inside you, and your stomach rolls as you incline toward the release you’ve been craving.
“Only yours, Kate. I’m only yours,” Your voice is one decibel below a sob as you speak.
And Kate’s next words are what do you in.
“Good girl,”
Those two words alone send you hurtling toward your orgasm, falling apart completely. A loud moan tumbles out of you, and your legs really do give out on you then, your body sagging back against Kate’s. She holds you steady. Her fingers have slowed, but she hasn’t pulled them out of you yet. She’s still massaging you; gently working you through the after-tremors until you’ve stopped shaking.
“Oh my god. Kate, oh my god,” you pant softly, your chest heaving.
“Yeah, that was sort of godly, wasn’t it?” Kate drops a soft kiss on your temple as she finally pulls her hand away, but not before fixing your panties and dress back into place. “I love seeing you fall apart like that, baby,”
“Oh my god,” you say again. The feeling is slowly starting to return to your legs and you manage to stand up straight without staggering too much.
“You okay?” Kate asks you, her tone reverent. Her hands are spread out as if to catch you if you were to stumble back into her.
You gaze up at her with an expression that you hope communicates exactly how you feel—that Kate is a goddamn angel. “More than,” you reply breathlessly.
“Good, so then…” Kate’s hands slide around your hips and she pulls your body closer. “Are you still upset about us being late or did the ten minutes feel worth it?”
Somehow, despite everything that just happened, that cheeky question is what turns your cheeks a rosy shade of pink. “It was definitely worth it,” you say. “But uh…what are you gonna tell your mom?”
“Well…let’s just hope the good old ‘bad traffic’ excuse holds water,” Kate replies, a smile playing on those perfect lips of hers.
