#buky x avenger!reader

[hiraethblack22]

Fire and Ice

(Bucky x ofc) series.

MASTERLIST OF THE SERIES: here.

SUMMARY: Thirteen is a HYDRA pawn, a soldier, a spy and an assassin. A wraith. Chosen because of her powers and transformed into the perfect weapon. (enchanted!reader) What happens when her mission becomes locating and eliminating The Winter Soldier?

IMPORTANT: I won't use Y\n but the lead character will be given a name and will be a fully formed character. Set in a time where everyone is still alive and Bucky is free of the hydra. Warnings: violence, blood, torture, and manipulation. Vulgar language. The story will contain adult content. Probably a whole lot of Smut.

CHAPTER TWO: US AND THEM.

Peace is an abstract concept made by powerful people to install faith in the institutions of the world that claim to keep crime and danger at bay. In all the years I’d been living, I quickly realised that it was indeed a false concept, a lie, considering that the same people who claimed to protect the world were installing the danger in it. The idea of peace is nothing but a facade that is used to manipulate the masses.

Hydra was claiming to cleanse the world from evil, but how could they pretend to act for world peace when they were responsible of the death of millions? Couldn’t they see the blood tinting their white vest of morality? How could they profess goodness when they were keeping dozens of slaves under their polished boots?

The Avengers were painted as heroes. Flying around to beat up the evil—that, yes, when they weren’t busy fighting among themselves.

There had been a time when I had hoped for them to come and rescue us, me, from Hydra. But, it soon faded; hope was dangerous, it only led to disappointment and despair. Instead, I focused on survival. I had waited, spending days laying facedown on the filthy floor of the cells and weeks silently witnessing the deaths of my cellmates one after the other. The years I had passed, fed with injections of syringes, and pumped up with synthetic drugs to accomplish assignments that were impossible for anybody else, had helped me to give up all hope, not just in the Avengers but also in the rest of the world.

I ingenuously thought they weren't saving us because they were fighting each moment to defend their values, as we fought every day for a cup of water or a bit of sleep, but no; here they were, drinking champagne in fancy dresses, dancing, as the world outside cried their names.

The fair of peace for the future was another clown show created by the government to show the citizens that the future was safe. The secretary of state had delivered a very long sermon on heroes and peace, licking the avengers' arses every two sentences, and delivering sexist remarks about the heroines of the team—that made my fingers tickle the trigger of my rifle more eagerly than I should have—but in between inaugurations and philosophical peace speeches, the secretary of state made sure he got an exclusive on the prostitution trade every single month, and on the remaining days he accepted bribes from Hydra. So, he would end up murdered, one way or another, but killing him wasn't allowed in my future.

I guessed I couldn’t even proclaim myself as a white knight of peace, not when I was currently waiting to bomb the shit out of it.

“I have eyes on the target.” I murmured into the radio, lowering the binoculars to eye the building where the fair was taking place.

My body moved without me telling it what to do. It checked the ammo, fastened a couple of guns to my legs, secured the daggers around the belt, and lowered the rifle behind my back.

"I hope you mean this horrible building," Marya's voice said in reply. The radio cracked with her voice.

The building was indeed quite horrible—a white oval with an awful lot of windows. It was not a safe place, not even with the dozens of security guards standing outside the building. The others had by now removed the guards and placed the explosives.

The orders had been made clear that it had to be set to trap everyone inside, and us inside with them. The roof was the way out. A soldier had infiltrated the rooftop guards to take control of the chopper when the time was right.

I lowered my hand, and as I willed it, a light flared beneath the skin, producing a flame on the palm of my hand. It swirled on itself, hissing like a wild animal. I allowed it to dance around my fingers with a smile. “It will burn down with the lot of them.”

Marya had been with us for what I imagined was a couple of weeks; sharing a wall of bars had quite made us close. It wasn’t friendship; I didn’t even remember what friendship was supposed to feel like, but we were accompanying each other on long missions and on the dark, cold nights at the headquarters—holding my hand in hers like a loving mother and whispering funny stories of her childhood, telling me how her family had always been loving and caring for her and the rest of her siblings. She often cried, remembering them, thinking about what they thought when they remembered her—I cried with her most of the time, thinking about my brother and the life we had lost.

I knotted the rope to my body, crawling down the side of the building in the silent shadows of the night.

As the other soldiers would trap them all inside, and I would be focused on The Winter Soldier.

The programme they implanted in his head was nearly perfect, certainly better than the one in my head; ours was injected with syringes and would fade away after some weeks, leaving us begging for more. I didn't know why these people wanted the soldier, but I was in charge of bringing his body back with me to the base. I wasn't in a position to care about the reason; the only thing I needed was for my brother to be safe.

I nodded to the other soldiers when I crossed the doors. As soon as I was inside, they all disappeared.

The people were all gathered in the big hall on the second floor, watching the performance. And I was going to give them the most beautiful spectacle—the one they were going to pay with their lives to watch. I distantly heard the noise of the bombs going off behind me.

I smirked.

The game was finally on.

The door of the big hall flew open. The people inside began rushing out, scarfs and clothes over their mouths, to block the smoke from entering their lungs.

I rolled my eyes—people really didn’t know how to save themselves. Running straight into the arms of danger.

I grabbed my rifle and fired shots against the walls. They all dropped in an instant, moving out of the way, and clearing the way for us.

He was in the back of the room. Beautifully swinging punches and kicks at the soldiers surrounding him, ducking out of the flashes of knives. I walked to him, taking my sweet time to extract my favourite dagger from the belt.

The soldiers didn’t waste any time, shooting and punching their way to the Avengers. I recognised a couple of them—I saw the widow jump straight for one of us, leaving him at her feet an instant later. The Captain was, as usual, throwing his shield at the enemies and shouting orders. An arrow flashed past me, grazing my cheek, but I paid no mind; somebody else would take care of that. I saw out of the corner of my eye the soldiers shooting in the direction of the Hawke without breaking the protective circle they had me in—if I didn’t grab a hold of the Winter Soldier, none of us would go unpunished. And then, finally, I saw him

One of the soldiers, S-32 was his number, was attacking too roughly, advancing too closely. He swung a powerful punch at the Winter Soldier, making his head shoot sideways. I saw his blood spraying the floor. Another soldier came, locking his arms behind him. S-32 raised a knife, arching down straight for the Winter Soldier’s throat. The knife flashed closer and closer and brushed the skin of his neck before it stopped.

S-32 stared at me in shock, his eyes wide. His mouth opened, but only a pained groan escaped his trembling lips. He shot his eyes where my hand was closed around his wrist, my skin glowing and his flesh fuming away through my fingers.

“He is mine.”

I kicked him in the chest, watching his body tumble to the ground amid the fight.

I nodded to the other to release him, and his hands couldn’t have dropped faster.

I stared at the Winter Soldier, bending my head to the side to study him better. He was panting in pain, but I couldn't feel any remorse. The power coursing through my veins was too intoxicating to resist. The first thing I noticed were his blue and intense eyes. They reminded me of the ocean, but with a dangerous edge that made me shiver.

I threw another knife from my holster, imbedding it on the floor between the Winter Soldier's feet. He stared at it, then at me.

I winked. "I'd hate for this to be boring."

The Winter Soldier's eyes narrowed, sizing me up and trying to figure out if it was a scam or not. I took a step forward, keeping my eyes locked on his.

"You know," I said, "I've heard a lot about you. The things you've done... they're pretty impressive." He didn't react, remaining frozen in the little bubble that had formed around us. I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Recognition? Regret? It was hard to tell.

"I don't do that anymore."

"It's cute you think you can escape this," I mocked him.

I quickly turned around to face him, my heart racing as I braced myself for his next move. He lunged at me with the knife. I bent sideways, avoiding that flash of silver.

I didn't wait any longer and lashed out in attack. As I lunged forward, I felt a rush of adrenaline. My foot collided with his stomach, making him stumble backward. He doubled over, escaping from my attack like intangible smoke. He rolled out of the way, rising on his feet behind me, knife in hand and ready.

"Let's dance, doll."

In a flash, the Winter Soldier was on his feet, behind my back, immobilising my arms against my torso with his metal arm. He pressed me against his hard chest. The knife angled beneath my chin, and his breath caressed my ear as he bent down and whispered, "It's cute you think you can beat me."

I took a step back, my eyes locked on his, searching for any sign of weakness. He was quick and agile. Hydra had definitely wasted their time training this man, but they had done it with me too. With a sudden burst of energy, he charged at me again, his knife glinting in the light. I sidestepped his attack and landed a swift kick to his side. He stumbled backward.

The Winter soldier grabbed his side, slightly hunched on his side. I dove forward, sending my knife to slice the air towards his forehead. But the bastard grabbed my wrist, like I had done with S-32 minutes prior. His metal hand crushed it so hard that I felt my bones' wishes to snap. He twisted my wrist until my fingers spasmed open, and the blade clattered awkwardly to the floor. If any of my trainers had been watching, they would have whipped me into unconsciousness.

There was something in his voice that made my blood roar violently in my veins. I involuntarily licked my lips.

"If you're done flirting with me, soldat,” I hardly recognised my own voice, and that mocking smile that could be heard in it. “I'd like to kill you now."

I concentrated on my back, making the skin flare up with fire. He hissed. At first, he tried to hold on to me, but he stumbled back, surrendering to the pain. The knife fell, and I kicked it to let it disappear in the crowd.

As soon as there was space between us, I elbowed him in the groin. I laughed as he groaned in pain, finally rolling away, free from his hold.

With a quick movement, he lunged at me again, his metal arm glinting in the dim light. I dodged his attack and countered with a swift kick to his side. He grunted in pain but didn't back down.

We continued to exchange blows, each one more powerful than the last. As the fight dragged on, I could feel my energy waning, but I refused to give up.

The winter soldier's punch came straight for my mouth. The hit almost knocked me to the ground, but I managed to stay on my feet. I could feel the blood trickling down from my lip. The winter soldier smirked at me, his intense eyes now filled with a hint of amusement.

I knew that this fight was far from over.

I wiped the blood off with the back of my hand. My lips curled in a small smirk of their own.

"I hoped I didn't have to use this," I told him, showing him my hand, the fire rolling on my fingers, "Hydra won't be happy if I burn you to fucking ashes, but hey!" I shot a wave of fire, making it more solid than hot, sending him backward. I shrugged. "Accidents do happen."

I knocked him down twice, sending him further and further into the back of the room, right where I saw Marya keeping the door open for me. She was leaning against the door, using a small knife to clean the underside of her nails, unbothered by the chaos and destruction that was going on around us.

The Winter Soldier stumbled on his feet again, and finally, sending a last blast of power against his chest, he stumbled out of the room.

I nodded to Marya, and she moved to grab her two guns, diving into the room and locking the door behind her.

I took my rifle from my back, and pointed it straight for his heart. “It’s just you and me now, soldat.”

“You don’t have to do this,” he spoke, holding up his hands to show submission.

“Don’t I?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended. “Are you going to appeal to my sense of pity? Because I have none.”

None I could feel; not at the moment. Not when whatever they shot in my veins was making my heart hammer so loud in my ears that my head felt like it was about to explode; not when I knew what would happen to me and the others if I failed.

“I can help you.”

His eyes were kind, almost sweet, but it was pointless. I didn't know how long I could resist the urge to give in to the voice screaming at me to complete my mission.

“Help me?” I laughed bitterly. “It is a bit late for that.”

I pressed my finger on the trigger. I didn’t know why I was entertaining his idiotic desire to speak with me. I didn’t know why I yet had to shoot a bullet in his heart—heart, not head—because, for whatever reason, my orders prevented me from performing my regular schedule.

“I know they control your mind. I can help you get out of their control. Let me help you. I have connections," he said, "people who can protect you and your loved ones.”

I shook my head.

I opened my mouth to speak again, to scream at him to shut up, to stop messing with my time.

“Nobody can save us,” I said. I heard the sound of the chopper igniting and taking off and the noise of screaming in the distance. The sinister whispers of the serum in my ears and the roaring of the fire.

“The building is on fire. You will die one way," I raised my rifle to aim at his heart, "or the other. Goodbye, soldat. Hydra sends its regards.”

Then everything exploded.

I felt my body flying, smashing against the wall. Then everything turned black.

“Thirt-” a voice broke the surface of the fog clouding my mind. “Thirteen…are you—”

My throat felt like sandpaper, it was aching, and it burned. I brought a hand to my head, as if to find out if I could feel something other than the loud ringing in my ears.

The hand came away stained with blood. I coughed, groaning in pain.

I couldn't understand where I was, couldn't understand why I was in pain. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, making the tears that had been stuck in my eyes fall, and tried to bring my surroundings into focus.

Everything was tinted in red, smoke was filling the room. The flames were slowly consuming the area around me, but my powers had squeezed me into the familiar protective shield, allowing me to breathe. The fire would not burn me, would not kill me—the scientists had tested it in any way they could think; they burned every part of my body, shoved burning iron on my body, in my eyes, in my throat, but nothing; the smoke would kill me, with time, and those damn powers didn't even give me the joy of an unexpected death.

My throat felt like sandpaper; it was aching, and it burned.

I lifted myself onto my knees, bracing myself with my hands when the world wobbled violently.

The screams in the distance were now drowned out by the crackling of the fire. I knew I had to get out of there, but my mind was still reeling from what had just happened. The sinister whispers of the serum echoed in my head, getting quieter and quieter. And for the first time since I had woken up, my head wasn’t heavy and my mind wasn’t blank.

"What the fuck is going on?"

For the first time in years, I was out of the base, and I didn't feel the black mask of the drug pushing me down. There was no constant pain that clutched my heart and mind, no voice in my head making me do things I hated. The world around me seemed brighter and more vibrant than ever, as if I were seeing it for the first time.

Tears rolled out of my eyes. I stared at the door, and I gathered myself to run out of it. Maybe I'd reach those mountains I had seen on the mission to Norway a few years back. I could finally escape and hide. I would be free. Free.

But then I saw him—the sergeant, the soldat, the Winter Soldier slumped on the ground, eyes closed and still as a corpse.

And I remembered the mission. The headquarters. The other soldiers. The fucking microchip they had implanted in my body, prevented me, even in my clearest moments, from escaping.

The rifle was lying somewhere in the room, but retrieving it was the least of my thoughts. I remembered all those words the scientists had shouted in my face, as they beat, whipped, and carved my body according to their pleasure. Michael. Michael would die if I disappeared like that.

I sobbed, mourning for the life I didn't get to live, for the things I wasn't allowed to feel. I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears. I couldn't let my emotions consume me, not now. Michael would be safe, and I would need to sacrifice my life for him. It was a small price to pay for the life of my only family. I had to get up and go back, no matter how hard it was.

But I had a choice to change things. To make them better.

I crawled to the soldier as blood began to trickle from my nose. I groaned with pain as I rolled him onto his back, placing my fingers on his neck. He was alive.

His words echoed in my head.

I can help you. I can help you.

I eyed the exit; it was engulfed in fire, and an escape through the windows was unlikely. "Soldat." I shook him from his shoulders roughly, but nothing. "Soldat. Wake up! Come on."

His eyes stayed closed. Shit.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. I had to think fast.

"Thirteen! Thirteen! Report now." I nearly ripped my belt off in my haste to grab the radio. Marya's voice came through, screaming at me to inform her whether the mission had been successful. "Is the target dead?" I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down.

And I could make no other decision.

My heart was pounding as I took a deep breath and replied, "Affirmative, target eliminated."

"Meet us at the rendezvous point in ten minutes.”

I knew what her words actually meant, if I was not there in time, a squad would track down my microchip—whatever that thing was—and execute me for desertion. Mission accomplished or not. I had to move fast.

"Copy that."

I took another moment to stare at the man before me, looking so peaceful despite everything. He was strong enough to have survived that long in the smoke, in that moment, I had to be strong and pull us both out of this hell. "I hope you're worth it."

I wrapped my arms around the soldier and began to pull, nearly screaming from the pain in my muscles, but I had no time to find an alternative. I couldn't do anything else.

"Damn it, you're heavy." I yanked him with me, stretching the shield around both of us. “If we both die because you want to pull a Sleeping Beauty on me, my ghost will torture yours for eternity.”

The crossing was excruciating.

I dragged him through the big chamber, and then, kicking open the doors, I hauled him up the fire escape to the roof.

I collapsed on the floor beside him, desperately gasping for air. The soldier was still unconscious and unmoving, but he was breathing, and his pulse was steady. And that was enough. Enough to hope.

I lifted the sleeve of his jacket, exposing his arm. And being the only thing at my disposal, I began to write on his arm with my blood.

"You said you could help us." I gave him one last look. "Please do it."

I jumped down the stairs again, submerging into the fire and disappearing.

For the first time in years, the familiar bite of hope came back to haunt me, I only hoped not to be absolutely devastated by the consequences of my actions.

Please, Let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged in later parts!

Disclaimer: all of my chapters will have a title with the name of a song. This chapter has the title 'Us and them', a song by Pink Floyd. It has no correlation with the story, but I thought it was nice to let you all know.

@mori1b2bpad @lady-bellyn  @thefandomplace @bonkyandsteebluver @billihill - let me know if you still wish to be tagged to the next parts or deleted from the tag list.

#bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x yn #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky x oc #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #buky x avenger!reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #james bucky barnes #bucky series #bucky fic #bucky fluff #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky smut #zemo #avengers series #avengers fic #bucky x ofc

[deceasedshadow]

Y/N : This is my Ex-Boyfriend, Peter.

Peter : Motherfu-....I'm her husband!

Y/n : Same thing.

#marvel #x reader #reader imagine #steve rodgers x reader #buky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker #the avengers #hydra #captain rogers #tony stark #iron man #natasha romanoff #wanadavision #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #xyou #reader insert #peter parker x reader #fluff #incorrect avengers #incorrect quotes #marvlexreader #x stark!reader #xavenger!reader #chris evans #marvel cast x reader #Fanfic #Avengersfanfic

[winterchildd]

"Team Cap or Team Iron Man?"

Title: "Team Cap or Team Iron Man?"

Word Count: 1023

Pair: Steve Rogers x Platonic!reader x Tony Stark

Warnings: no one, just fluff, comic and a bit of angst

Author Notes: Ok at first I didn't intend to post this story, I liked it but I was terrified it could be banal and completely out of Tony and Steve's characters, but in the end, after having my sister read it, I was convinced! She liked it so much and since it snatched a smile from her I decided to post it in the hope that it can cheer you up too!

I hope there aren't so much error, english is not my firs language

"So Y/N ..." Tony began, letting his lips stretch into a smile that didn't bode well "Team Cap?" He said, shaking his head almost in disgust "Or Team Iron Man?" he then finished winking at her and nodding with conviction, as if he was 100% sure of what her answer would be.

"Oh very mature of you to ask her today!" Steve snapped, rolling his eyes annoyed

"And why is it, sorry?" said Tony "It's not like today is a special day" he added letting out a small grin

"In fact it's just your birthday" Steve scolded him

"So?" Tony snorted "She's still free to choose the team she prefers!"

"As if you didn't know her!" Steve replied "You know that in order to not make you feel bad she will choose you, that's not correct" he explained

"I'm not a child, Rogers" Tony blurted "I can handle rejection" he added.

Steve didn't answer, he just let out a grunt full of disapproval from his lips

"So Y/N" Tony turned back to her, with a hopeful look "Who do you prefer?"

Y/N let out an amused chuckle as she finally completely diverted her attention from her school books to focus on the two men standing in front of her. The matter, while it might not seemed so, was complicated and terribly tangled, but only because after the death of her parents, which occurred during the attack on New York by Loki, both Tony and Steve had played an important part in her life. They had saved her from loneliness by becoming her points of reference, an indispensable support: ask her to choose now that they were in a quarrel and that they were divided was really cruel in her opinion.

"I don't know" she replied, indecisively shrugging in her shoulders "I love you both" she added then, hoping that answer could please them both

"Ok ok, but who do you love most?" said Tony "who are you happiest spending your time with?" He asked her again

"Uff ..." Y/N snorted crossing her arms at her chest a bit annoyed "I prefer when we are all three together" she said, and again she hoped to had had gotten away with this

"But you like it when we go to the park, don't you?" Steve asked her looking into her eyes with concern, as if he were afraid to hear her answer

"Of course I ..."

"And don't yoy like it when I let you try on my armor gloves? Your eyes shine when I let you do so" Tony immediately interrupted her with the same anxiety that shone in Steve's eyes

"Yeah but ..." she tried again, but this time it was Steve's turn to cut her off

"Even when she trains with me her eyes shine!" he angrily snapped in Tony's direction

"What does that mean? Even when she's working with me on the armors her eyes shine! Don't your eyes shine?" Tony asked directly addressing her, as if he had suddenly remembered her presence

"Sure but ... but I'd rather prefer you two stop asking me to decide which of you is more important to me!" She finally blurted out, covering her face in exasperation with her hands "You puts me in such a difficulty!" she then added "You are equally important to me, you are the parents who were torned from me that day in New York, you cannot expect me to really have a favorite! By the way, the time I spend with one has nothing to do with the time I spend with the other! I owe you everything" she explained "All I am is thanks to you, thanks to the teachings of both of you! You are two great heroes and you should stop arguing like this and involving others in your issues!" and with this, badly closing the history book she was studying on, without even bothering to take it with her, Y/N left the terrace to shut herself up in her own room.

"We are two idiots ..." Tony mumbled letting himself fall limply on the chair

"We are?" Steve addressed him raising an eyebrow "What happened it's your fault" he said "You started this stupid conversation!"

"And you followed me Rogers!" growled Tony angrily looking at him

Steve parted his lips to retort but then, as if he had suddenly realized what they had done, he froze, looking down at the tip of his toes as if seized by a sudden shame "It's true ..." he sighed at the end crossing his arms and shifting his weight on his right leg "We were both wrong" he admitted then

"Maybe ..." Tony began, looking up at him more calmly "At least when we are with her we could put aside our divergences ..." he said

"Yeah ... maybe we should" Steve agreed

A couple of minutes and they were in front of Y/N's room door waiting patiently for her permission to enter "What do you want?" she snorted at them after opening the door, obviously reluctantly

"We just wanted to say sorry..." Steve began

"Yes" Tony went immediately after him "I was wrong" he said, crossing with regret Y/N's e/c eyes swollen with tears.

"And I shouldn't have followed him" Steve added immediately "Can you forgive us?" They asked together looking at her hopefully.

"Sure I can ..." she mumbled in response, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh "But only if you promise to not put me in the position to choose between you anymore" she added while passing her thumb under her eyes she dried the last remnants of tears

"We won't do it again" they promised, and at those words, at the conviction and decision with which they were pronounced, Y/N felt her heart lose a couple of beats in the throes of happiness. They were sincere, she could tell it from their looks, and the fact that they had gone to her together and not one at a time as usual was a clear proof that they really intended to change.

"Thank you!" She mumbled in a crying voice as she flung herself on them to hold them both in a big hug.

#iron man #capitan america #steve rogers #tony stark #steve x tony #tony stark x reader #marvel x reader #steve rogers x reader #civil war #the avengers #x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #peter parker #buky barnes #avengers x reader #marvel #marvel imagines #stony fic #endgame #infinity war #captain america #steve x reader #team cap #team iron man

[that-damn-girl]

(4) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Chapter 3

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 3800+

Summery: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an ‘electronic blackout’ during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky has become your personal heater and there’s only one bed.

Chapter type: Fluff.

Chapter/Trigger warning: Self depreciating thoughts. No smut but mentions of getting stimulated. Language.

A/N: A huge thank you to @writeyourmindaway for letting me use their lovely dividers used below. Check out this for other awesome dividers made by her.

Climbing the steps of the cabin, the comms felt heavy in Bucky’s hand. A week, his mind kept repeating. Bucky wondered how you’d react to the news he’d brought along.

At first, he’d liked the idea of being with you and only you for one entire week very much. It sounded very appealing to him. Sure, he’d never try anything with you to jeopardize his friendship, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy spending some alone time with you. There were no worries for unscheduled last minute missions or the time ticking for the planned ones. He’d be the only one getting your undivided attention. He felt giddy and low-key wanted to squeal with excitement. It’d be an entire week of being with you; being near you.

And that thought scared him when his brain drifted back to the incident of the previous night. You’d be stuck with him in close quarters; and yes, you’d be in danger of him hurting you. Though he was happy, he didn’t know if you would be. Despite what you said, he knew he’d given you a scare last night. He wondered if you’d too be happy about it or if you’d dread it. Somewhere in his heart he knew it’d be the former, but his anxiety feeded at him like a starved at a buffet.

Stalling his negative thoughts, he willed his mind to not jump to conclusions as he entered the cabin. He hoped to find you in front of either of the fireplaces soaking the heat. When he didn’t see you in any of the rooms, he checked the bathroom. You weren’t there either. His anxiety returned full force.

Assuming the worst, he called your name as he checked through the windows. He saw you then, at some distance on the backside of the cabin, where he couldn’t have seen you while entering. With an ax in hand, you appeared to be chopping woods. He sighed in relief, cursing for having worked himself over for nothing.

Leaving the house again, he approached you. From his angle, he had a perfect view of your ass in the air everytime you bent down to pick up another piece of log. If it hadn’t already from the jogging, he was sure his mouth had become dry just looking at you. He worked had to keep the wild thoughts of your round butt at bay. It was proving to be difficult.

So invested in the job at hand, you hadn’t heard his muffled voice call out your name earlier.  Having it instilled in his nature, he walked towards you with the lightness of a feather, his boots not making much sound. You hadn’t heard him coming until he was just a few steps behind. Your training overtook the control as you clutched the ax in one hand and retrieved the gun from your thigh holster in the other, immediately turning around and taking a defensive stance.

Bucky stopped dead in his tracks at the abruptness, “Come on, Y/N, it’s just me.” He said. Relief washed over you as you dropped your weapons. It was just Bucky. And he was back.

“Hey,” You stepped towards him, eyes washing him over with concern, “You alright?”

Bucky smiled, “Everything’s good.”

“What happened? Were you able to contact them?” You asked Bucky with hope dripping out of your voice. He chewed his bottom lip, his thoughts taking the best of him. Deciding it would be no good to stall the eventual, he told you all about his conversation with Sam.

“So the effect would wear off? That’s great! A week’s no big deal.” You shrugged, trying really hard not to let your excitement surface, a beautiful smile gracing your gorgeous features. Bucky grinned, glad you weren’t too upset.

Inwardly, you were dancing with joy. A week with Bucky! Just the two of you and seven nights in that bed. Oh, may lord forgive the perverted images that were entering your head at the prospect.

“It’s good that you started on them.” Bucky said, looking at the impressive pile of firewood you had already gathered.

“Yeah. We already exhausted what we had. Though without any heating system, we’ll need much more than this.” You said, picking up your ax.

Bucky nodded, “Do we have another ax?”

“Yeah, I think I saw a bunch of them in there.” You nodded towards the cabin.

Bucky soon brought the tool and went to work. The thuds of metal striking wood could be heard loud and clear in the isolated environment, leaving an unpleasant pang in your eardrums. You breathed hard as you brought down the blade against the hard wood, white puffs coming out of your mouth with each exhale. Your motions continued, eager to be over with the job.

After a long time of straining your muscles, you took a break and chanced a glance at Bucky. Splintering the logs in swift and clean strikes with his muscular arms, he looked like a natural. The plates in his metal arm shifted with every stretch he did. Brows furrowed on the hard planes of his face, you imagined how he’d look like a lumberjack. The mental image made your mouth water.

Without giving much thought, you called out, “Hey, Bucky, I bet you could split them with your bare hands.”

He looked at you, eyebrows raised, “Really? You think so?” He sounded very unsure.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “Go on, try once.” You sat on wooden stump you were using.

He picked up one of the uncut logs, curious to try but unsure how to hold it. After he examined it for a moment, he kept one end of it on his chest and dug his fingers on the other end. To his surprise, when his metal fingers dug in creating a crack he didn’t have much problem in splitting the log in half with a loud grunt.

Though he liked the moment of testosterone flowing through him, making him feel masculine; like a very manly man, he wasn’t sure if he liked that in front of you. He had broken so many things with his hands. After last night, he didn’t want you to witness any act of aggression which involved his arm, specially if you were to be trapped with him for the next few days. Hearing a loud gasp he looked at you.

If your heart wasn’t beating fast from all the chopping you did, it was sure as hell racing now. If that wasn’t one of the hottest, most nerve wrecking, panty dropping things you hadn’t witnessed. His face contorting from all the pressure he put; the nerves getting strained in his neck; the brute force he used; the loud gravely grunt which left his lips, the rise and drop of his large and beefy chest as he breathed. It all made you wet, unforgivably so. You couldn’t help the gasp escaping your mouth.

Bucky looked at your wide eyed expression. Your mouth was hung open. You quickly recovered, not wanting to make a fool yourself, “That was so cool!” You gushed, trying to make him believe you were not just wishing he’d strip you down and have his way with you, “I wish I could do that!” You truly did.

Bucky was confused with your reaction, not in the least bit understanding what about it was appealing to you. He tentatively said, “You’re not…It doesn’t…scare you?” He looked towards his metal arm, dropping the wood and tightening his fist.

Your heart drummed still, but to the tunes of heartbreak more than anything else. Until yesterday, he was making great progress with coming in terms to and loving and appreciating all of him. He knew that. You knew that. But suddenly one set back happened and it sent all the process he’d made went tumbling down the drain.

You couldn’t let that happen; you wouldn’t let that happen.

You made your way to him and took his metal arms in your hands. Bucky saw with a tensed look as you opened up his fist. It felt heavy in your hands and you loved the weight of it. Slowly, you brought his palm towards yourself and kissed each of his fingertips gingerly, softly; taking your time with each tip. Bucky’s face became expressionless, but his eyes betrayed everything.

Giving one last peck to the inside of his palm, you kept it on your cheek and cupped it with your own, “Tell me Bucky,” You rubbed the outside of his palm in soothing circles, “What am I supposed to be afraid of?”

You looked into his eyes with nothing but softness; daring to him to continue believing what he did.

A lump formed in Bucky’s throat. He couldn’t speak those words with you looking at him like that, but he did, “I can hurt you, Y/N.” The pain abounding in his eyes exhibited itself on his face too.

“But will you?” You asked, eyes unwavering from his.

“Y/N, you know I’d never.” He looked down, unable to hold the intensity of your gaze at him, “But what if I lose control?”

“Bucky,” You moved closer, bringing one hand to him and making him look at you, “Honey, you don’t give yourself enough credit. Last night you didn’t lose control-”

“Then what’s this?” He hissed, grabbing your right arm and shoving up the sleeves. The bruises on your wrist unambiguously in the shape of his metal fingers gaped at you, “You were just trying to help me, and I did that to you.”

You broke away from him, lifting your layers a little to show the already fading bruises on your abdomen, “Look at these. These are bruises as well, and I got them while fighting those goons. I wouldn’t have been here; wouldn’t have been an Avenger if I wouldn’t be able to handle a few mere bruises. I am not enhanced, Bucky, but I am not fragile either!”

Bucky looked remorseful. You walked to him, taking his hand back in yours, “Tell me Bucky…when you were approaching me and I didn’t hear you, I raised my weapons at you. I thought you were an enemy. Are you mad at me for that?”

Bucky shook his head vigorously. What sort of a question was that? Of course he wouldn’t be mad at you for something like that. But before he could verbally answer, you continued, “What if I hadn’t waited to look who it was and straight up attacked you? I had an ax and a gun, Bucky, and they are no child’s play.”

Bucky cupped your cheeks, “But you didn’t, doll.” He shook his head again, “You were protecting yourself. You didn’t let the fear overtake your actions.” When you looked at him calm countenance and raised your eyebrows, Bucky mulled hard over his words, taking in what he’d just said.

“Exactly! Sweety, we are trained to protect ourselves. What you did last night was in self preservation. You don’t need to be sorry for that.” You encompassed his fingers in yours as you said.

“Bucky, I am so proud of the man you are today. Sam is so proud. You’ve risen above the man they made you to be. It wasn’t you who chose to do those things, but it’s you deciding what you want to do now.”

“Doll…” Bucky started, but you interrupted.

“No, you listen to me.” You dragged his metal arm away from your face and held it up, closing your fists around it, “This is beautiful, Bucky. Just like you.” You held his arm close to you, “You help who you want to, you hurt who you want to. Just like you trusted me that I wouldn’t shoot you or swing at you, I know for a damn fact that hell would break lose before you’d seriously injure me. Stop underestimating me or doubting my words.”

Bucky’s eyes glazed over. His feelings couldn’t transform into words for what he had to say. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve to friend a like you by his side, “You’re right. I’m sorry, I underestimated you, Y/N. I- I let my insecurities get the better of me.” He tugged you, hugging you close to him, his head resting on yours, “Thank you so, so much, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bucky. I know you’d do the same for me.” You said, snuggling your head into his chest.

“I want to.” He simply replied.

Since Wakanda, Bucky had started being at peace with the fact that what he was made to do for all those years ago was none of his fault. The torture he was made to do on the mostly innocent for 70 years was not something he could forget easily though. Years later, he was still in the process today of not blaming himself. He always reminded himself that he was only a vessel and not the evil intention whenever his mind overran.

But it was a process, a course; bound to get rocky and disturbed by hurdles at one point or the other. And even if nothing more, you were his friend. One he had chose to confided in and trusted enough to show the most vulnerable parts of himself.

If there were going to be insecurities, you dared them to come his way. You’d help him jump all the hurdles he’d let you, and if he wouldn’t, you’d find a way to assist him anyway. Always. Because he was your friend and you were his.

Hours later, you sat on the couch with your shoulders and back sore and strained. You’d acquired enough firewood to use leisurely in the duration of your stay, and even then the owners of the cabin would be left with a mighty amount. You were satisfied with your hardwork, but your muscles screamed and wailed and pitched insults at you.

You’d spent nearly the entire day chopping and storing the wood with Bucky. Throughout dinner, you kept tilting your head right and left in an attempt to stretch the hardened muscles of your neck and shoulders. You rolled your shoulder joints at several intervals, but all was in vain.

Your back was a different story altogether. They treated you with unrelenting vengeance. You sat straight, it hurt. You slouched, it still hurt. You tried to shift in different positions on the couch without disturbing Bucky, but no matter what you did you never found any pose comfortable enough.

You knew you should’ve stretched.

“Sore muscles?” Bucky asked, glancing at you.

“It’s worse than weight lifting, Bucky.” You whined. He laughed.

“Didn’t stretch?” You deeply regretted not doing just that. At least the pain wouldn’t have been such a bitch.

“Okay,” You drawled, “Mistakes happen. I didn’t think it’d be that straining. Move on!”

“I can give you a massage if you want.” He offered.

Yes please, your brain screamed. You knew you wouldn’t have to strip in this freezing climate. He’d massage you with your clothes still on. Yet the thoughts of his hands running over your covered body and tending to your muscles was enough to bring out the squealing schoolgirl inside you. You couldn’t have Bucky see that side of you though. In order to seem composed, you cleared your throat, “You know how to give massages?” You asked, intrigued.

“I am not a masseuse, so don’t expect anything grand. But I am sure I can relieve some tension in your muscles.” He shrugged. You knew what he was talking about, but your mind didn’t hesitate in developing an entirely new kind of tension in a different group of your muscles. Only if he could relieve those as well.

“Yeah, well, that’d be great!” You hoped you didn’t squeak. You stood from the couch, ready to move to the bed.

Bucky looked at you with confusion as you moved, “Where you going?”

“The bed.” You answered, turning to him. Looking at his clueless expression, your face burned. Oh, had he not meant it to be on the bed? Did he want to do it on the couch? Of course he did. You cursed yourself as you tried not to stutter, “I- I mean, I thought it’d be easier there?” You didn’t know if it was a statement or a question.

“Oh- um, yes, that’d be easier.” Bucky said, feeling extremely dumb. What kind of a doofus gives massages on a couch? The Bucky kind, he thought.

Inside the bedroom, you removed a couple of layers before laying down on the bed on your stomach in your side of the bed. Your arms laid were freely by your side as your head rested sideways. After stoking the fire, Bucky joined you.

When you laid on your front, your butt somehow seemed to be pushed up as if waiting to pop out. It looked rounder and much more plump than usual. Bucky tried very hard not to think about it, “Relax and keep your muscles free. Take a slow and deep breath. Tell me if anywhere it hurts or if it’s too much pressure. I am starting with your lower back, all right?” You nodded.

Sitting on his knees sideways near you, Bucky was mindful not to touch your raised ass. Using the whole of his hands, he started at the bottom of your back. Flexing at the wrists so as to not apply too much pressure, he patted his hands up and down on your back in quick and agile motions.

Wanting to toy with him, you said, “What, you call clapping my back a massage?”

“Oh, shut up. I told you to relax. I’ve just started. You’ll soon see what I call a massage, honey.” He said, smirks spread on both your faces.

Bucky continued it for sometime. Moments later, you couldn’t deny the stimulating and compressive effect it had on your tissue.

Then he glided the inside of his palm and fingertips in the short, circular motions, kneading lightly, maintaining long and even strokes. Slowly, his hands inched upwards and covered your entire back before coming back down and starting again. He kneaded your shoulder and lower neck everytime he reached there. The motion was so soothing you closed your eyes and just enjoyed the feel of it.

He started light, but as the pressure applied by him increased gradually with the passing minutes, you could feel your muscles ease and unwind. It felt as if the tension in them started flying away as his hands worked. God, did it feel good. Without meaning to, you let out a soft moan.

You didn’t realise that, but Bucky definitely did. His hands stopped for a second, worried he’d used too much force but then your voice said, “Wow, Bucky, you’re good. I didn’t know you could massage so well.”

He started again, “Uh, thanks.” He alternated between pressing and kneading hardly and lightly in his laps. It worked like magic on your hardened tissues. You couldn’t stop the low yet undeniable moans which left you.

But Bucky’s ears were much more sensitive, as were the other parts of him. Nothing really was low for him.

After continuing the kneading, his changed his motions. Bringing together his fingers like a lobster claw near your lower back, his fingers started pushing the skin back towards his thumbs like one would fold paper fans. His thumbs flattened the rolls of flesh meeting them as his hands moved up. The layers covering you made it hard, but it still had a soothing effect.

“Is this okay?”

“Perfect.”

’Ooh’s and ’Aah’s left your mouth every now and then as he continued. They were accompanied with so much feelings from you that he couldn’t keep his mind straight. Though another part of him had no qualms about being anything but straight.

Thumbs extended, he next pushed down gently on either side of your spine. His thumbs moved forward, angled towards your feet.

As he glided his thumbs, the knots in your cramped muscles were further relieved. You felt heavenly as your muscles loosened up. Your appreciation came from the unintelligible noises you made. As the pressure applied by his hands increased, so did the intensity of your moans, and so did his member. Bucky was having a very hard time.

The final string broke when he worked on your acu-points. The moans you made were loud and powerful enough to hide his grunts. They were downright sinful. If there were any chances left of him not being hard by then, they were undoubtedly fulfilled.

His mind immediately shifted to all those massage porn videos he had ever seen. He remembered how they started with either the masseuse starting to stimulate the customer or the customer noticing the masseuse’s hard situation and taking care of it.

However, if anything here which was stimulated or was taken care of, they were your muscles. That too of the shoulders and back only.

He couldn’t stop his actions for the risk of you finding out the reason. You couldn’t stop expressing just how good he made you feel. There were a whole lot of ’couldn’t’s and very less ’could’s for his liking.

He continued though. Only for you. Anything for you.

After a long, long while, he sat back and criss-crossed his legs. He put a pillow on his lap before he asked, “You good?”

You gave out a very content sigh. You felt relaxed and refreshed, the muscles feeling smooth as butter as you rolled your shoulders. The pain and soreness you felt had vanished, replaced by a calming sense of ease.

Turning to lay on your back, you held his hand, “Good? Bucky, I’m great! More than great, in fact. You were amazing! Thank you so much! I really needed that.“

“It was nothing.” Bucky smiled. At least one of you got what you wanted. And then he saw you get under the covers, ready to head to sleep.

Being stuck with you, he didn’t know if it was his good luck or bad. He was near you, and yet he wasn’t. He could touch you, but he couldn’t touch you.

Thinking about how he had to sleep near you and not with you, Bucky wanted to weep when he felt himself twitch under the pillow.

Why does it always have to be me?

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway​

Chapter 5

Blog’s Main Masterlist  || Taglists Thank you for reading! 

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[crewhonk]

...Of The Line (Introduction)

A series collaboration with @nomadsgrogers where she writes for Giovanna as the reader! We’re just projecting onto our writing, its FINE

Series Summary: Steve watches YN Banner grow up before his eyes-- from a shy, dorky sixteen-year-old to a fierce, brilliant woman who never fails to keep him on his toes. He knows that she’s untouchable, but that doesn’t stop him from being completely wrapped around her finger for the rest of his long life. 

Series Warnings: Mutual Pining, age gap, gun use, these two are idiots-- seriously they're so dumb, slow burn

Pairings: eventual Steve Rogers X Banner!Reader, eventual Buky Barnes X OC!Stark

Words: 2.7K

Chapter Summary: Introduction of YN Banner, her brilliance and her meeting her best friend, uncle and one Steve Rogers for the first time. (warnings: battle of new york, english major discourse)

“... Of The Line” Masterlist

_______________________________ 

YN Banner had grown up under her father's wing. Her mother had left her at his doorstep in New York, swaddled in nothing but a baby pink blanket and a note describing how she was too much of her father. How she was too much of Hulk— the strength of him, and his same green eyes— it was too much for her mother. 

He took her in without a doubt in his mind. He had never hulked out when she cried as a baby, or when she fell from a large boulder in Spain. In fact, Hulk seemed only concerned for her— no desire to show himself but all the desire in the world to shelter her from all that was bad or could hurt. And he did so— for sixteen long years, he had taught her to control herself, taught her to be gentle, and taught her to pick her fights only when she had no other option. She made her first perfect stitch at ten, she had corrected him on the progression of Gamma Cells at twelve. She was everything he could want in a child. 

His heart, still, broke for her. 

She had lost her first patient in Somalia—a child just shy of five to radiation poisoning. She had never had a home, nor a best friend, nor a proper education. Sure, she could explain the basis of nuclear physics in a way a child could understand (something he still couldn’t do) but she didn’t know how to write an essay, how to sit down long enough to understand the meaning of a story because hell, there was no time for that when you grew up running. 

Until 2012 a few months after her sixteenth birthday when Natasha Romanoff swept her and Bruce to the big city of New York. 

“What’s your name, Little Lamb?” She had crooned, tucking a strand of hair behind YN’s ear. Her touch was gentle, the caress of her still chubby cheek almost longing. 

“YN Banner, Ma’am.”

“It’s Natasha to you, Pretty Lamb.”

Everything picked up after that— YN and Bruce had been shoved into an expensive lab (with swivelling seats!) and a time bomb of a weapon with probably the most overwhelming man on the planet. YN had actually grabbed his forearm when he jabbed Bruce int he side with a pen, hoping to bring out Big Guy. Her grip was too strong for that of a sixteen-year-old, and he wasn’t afraid like he should have been. He was amazed. 

“YN Banner. Little genetic miracle. Nice to finally meet you and not read about you.”

“Touch my dad again like that and I’ll rip your arm off.”

“Good.”

_______________________

A few days had passed until the attack on New York. The man wearing horns and green silk had escaped along with the Big Guy and the Norse God, and they had returned with fire and blood and green blurs. 

YN had been hiding in the bunker of the tower with a few of the civilian employees while the buildings crumbled around them when a girl around her own age sat beside her. 

“Banner, right?” She asked, her dark eyes already on YN. YN only nodded, trying her very best to keep her cool under this very new, very stressful situation. She didn’t need to respond to the other girl for her to continue speaking. 

“I’m Giovanna Stark. One night stand with my dad and I came out the other side of nine months. Left on his Malibu doorstep. Good thing too— Mom was apparently an English major. Can't do much with that though, can you? Write a book. Teach a few high school kids. Yell at the clouds or something.” YN found herself laughing more as the new girl— Giovanna— continued to ramble. 

“Me too. I don’t know what my mom did— Dad doesn’t talk too much about her, but she didn’t like that I was too radioactive. Apparently, she likes her kids without Gamma radiation in their blood.” 

“Wait,” Giovanna stopped her pity party with a hand on her knee. “You have Gamma in your blood?”

“Yes?”

“First, when dad saves the world can I take some blood? I’m going to be a surgeon in ten years and how cool would it be to write my thesis on Gamma blood and its benefits? Second, if I annoy you will you turn into a green monster?”

“I haven’t turned green yet, have I?” YN smiled, and Giovanna smiled back. 

“I like you. I think I’ll keep you.”

___________________

As it turns out, Giovanna was just as smart as YN was— the two girls found themselves in the lab most hours of the day following the disaster that was New York. YN’s dad had hulked out, and Tony and his assistant (“they’re going to get married one day, honestly”) cleaned up the legal mess quickly and beautifully. Giovanna had drawn blood and babbled on excitedly in Italian about how different YN’s blood from any other humans blood she had seen before. 

“Seriously, the way it adapts to the mutation as it multiplies is better than any porn I could find on the internet.” Giovanna rushed excitedly, putting the slides in the freezer and wiping down the counter. “This is brilliant— you’re brilliant.”

YN could only blush and smile, excited to have someone in her life who stretched her boundaries to the border of discomfort. She had been learning so much about how to be a sixteen-year-old in the past week that when Bruce walked into the lab one Monday night to ask if she wanted to join him in Australia, she could only wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug. 

“I think I’m gonna stay here, Papa. I— I can be a teenager here. I don’t have to save lives here, and I can actually finally read Harry Potter for the first time. I— I want to have as much of a childhood as I can.” She whispered a grimace on her face for fear of breaking her own dear father's heart. 

“Good.” He only smiled tears of joy in his eyes. Finally, he could give her everything she deserved. “You stay here. I’ll come back every two weeks. Maybe I’ll even get you some presents occasionally.”

“Presents?” YN tried to quell her excitement. She hadn’t grown up with much, so the idea of her father spending money on her on things she didn’t need sent a small thrill jolting up her spine. 

“Occasionally.”

“I love you, Papa.” She squealed, hugging him tighter. He squeezed back, burying his face in her messy hair and breathing her in. This would be the longest they would be separated and it scared the life out of him. 

“Love you, Squish.”

______________________

It’s later that day after Bruce leaves on a fancy jet that YN meets Steve Rogers for the first time. She had stolen American textbooks before, read through them and rolled her eyes at the basic knowledge that was the American curriculum, but one topic she could never get enough of was that of the Howling Commandos. Bucky Barnes, quick with numbers and a gun and oh, so easy on the eyes. Timothy Dugan, always smiling under the bush of moustache hair on his lip. Gabriel Jones expert sharpshooter and the best translator in the American Army— twenty languages in his load magazine. 

Steve Rogers, sickly small until a serum mutated his blood and made him a soldier with enhanced strength, speed, agility, stamina, endurance, reflexes, durability, and regenerative healing. 

YN couldn’t say she didn’t like to see someone like her heightened to such a high pedestal. 

Tony had thrown a dinner in celebration of the commemoration of the Avengers: Initiative. The dinner wasn’t much— take out from any place that hadn't been destroyed and was, in fact, still open. “God bless the working class,” he had said after finishing his second cheeseburger. Gio sat next to a mopey YN who was not yet used to being without her dad and chatted around the food in her mouth while YN picked at her fries. 

“Roscoe! Nice fo you to finally join us!” Tony cried, grinning as Steve Rogers rolled his eyes and sat down next to Tony. God, he was even more beautiful here in front of her than in the books she stole. His blond hair was darkened by the water fo his recent shower, skin tinged pink from the heat of it but fresh nonetheless. His shoulders were beyond wide and thick, and his arms bulged under the fabric of his white t-shirt. YN flushed red at the idea of him picking her up and doing things her father would very much not approve of. His thighs were straining the dark grey fabric of his sweatpants and YN had to genuinely turn towards Giovanna and talk to her so she would force herself to not stare at this Adonis of a man. 

She, in her distraction of him, hadn’t noticed that he was staring at her in much of the same likeness. Her skin was glowing and soft, probably malleable under his hands, the softness of puberty just barely leaving her stomach and shoulders and face— a soft thing which he almost immediately wished to protect. He wanted to hide her away from the world until she looked at him. Her eyes were impossibly gentle but had an arsenal of maturity behind them and a roaring fight behind the shine of her green iris. She had fought every day to be where she was now, and the intelligence in her posture told him already that she would continue to stay and continue to fight. Whichever teen was lucky enough to catch her eye would be blessed by Thor himself— this was, in fact, an angel among them. 

“Sorry, the media wanted about one hundred quotes. Did you save any fries?” He asked, and YN swore she could hear his stomach snarl at the sight of food. 

“Nah, they were good though, if that means anything to you,” Tony said halfway through a bite of his third burger. (“I’m a growing boy!”)

“It doesn’t but thanks,” Steve grumbled, grabbing a take out container of fried rice and pulling it towards him. One thing Steve loved about this whole new century was the diverse choices of food. Sure, he still boiled everything but he honest to god had no clue how to do anything else so take-out was a really neat invention. YN acted quickly, sliding her paper plate of fries towards him and offering him a small smile and a shrug. 

“I wasn’t gonna eat much anyways.” And Steve blushed nodded a thank you before swallowing them all down in a matter of seconds. Kind girl, he thought.

They talked aimlessly, laughing about some of the things they had seen in battle and boasting about their teammate's work and the night passed quickly. YN, always the shy one, could only steal impossibly brief glances at Steve as if he was the sun and she couldn’t look at him too long for fear of being hurt. 

“What about you, what do you want to do?” Steve asked her now, and she flushed at the intensity of his stare before looking down and picking at her nails. 

“I wanna work at an outreach centre, I think. Or maybe make changes in government that allows for kids like me to be safer in their homes. Something with kids.” She said faintly— she genuinely wasn’t entirely sure if she would even be able to go to school, but Bruce had always taught her it was good to have plans— something to look forward to.

“That’s amazing.” He encouraged ducking his head to catch her eye. His smile was gentle and warm and YN’s stomach flipped. “Nice to know that you two are going to be leaders of your generation. Real trailblazers.”

The way Steve made YN feel seen was a feeling she really didn’t want to go away any time soon. 

______________________________

It’s about three in the morning later that evening and YN was sprawled on Giovanna's white duvet, staring at the posters on her ceiling and listening to One Direction's most recent album (”Take Me Home”) as Giovanna sat next to her, painting her own toenails a bright blue. 

“You’re more broody than usual.” Giovanna piped up after a song called ‘She’s Not Afraid’, and YN shot her a confused look. 

“Pardon?”

“I know we just met, but you’re already easy to read. What’s going on?” Giovanna asked, putting the lid onto the varnish and hucking the bottle across the room. It landed in one of her clothing drawers and Gio fist pumped before leaning back on a hand and staring YN down.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I just— God. Steve’s really nice, okay?” YN groaned covering her face with her hands and groaning into them. Giovanna’s eyebrows shot up before a thrill shot through her bones— did she sense a crush? Was this what that was?

“Bit of a stick in the mud, honestly— but yeah, he’s nice. His butt’s nice too.” Giovanna smiled, watching as YN’s skin flushed a darker red and cheering silently to herself. God, she was good. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” YN mumbled, dropping her hands to her sides and smiling at her new friend who squealed and threw herself back onto the bed before clapping excitedly. YN shushed her quickly for fear of her excitement waking up the others on the floor, and Gio shushed herself enough to only let out a tiny squeak of excitement every ten seconds. The two sat in silence for only a few seconds longer before YN opened her mouth to speak once more. 

“I think this one singing now is my favourite.”

“Harry’s my favourite too.”

________________________

Three years had passed since then, Uncle Tony, as YN knew him now, had defeated the Mandarine (white cooperate guy playing the villain? Groundbreaking.), moved into his Malibu house, moved out of the house, rescued Dum-E and ended themselves back in the Avengers Tower. Flashy building with far too many rooms, but home. Always home. 

YN and Giovanna had since become inseparable, bonding in a way only soulmates did and having the ability to almost communicate telepathically when words were not able to be said. They were both homeschooled by Tony and Pepper themselves, Bruce dropping by often and teaching them both about anatomy and other surgical procedures. Giovanna had almost cried the first time he complimented a sucre— textbook, he had said and she squealed and threw her arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you, Uncle Bruce!” She squealed into his ear. YN watched with bated breath— not out of jealousy but out of fear of Big Guy getting too uncomfortable. However, much to her surprise and joy, Big Guy made no move to show himself, only purring low in Bruce’s chest and hugging Giovanna tighter. 

“Anytime, Brains. Now, YN come over here. JARVIS has a hologram of a heart that I want you guys to see.”

When YN and Giovanna weren’t in class or in the lab tinkering into the early hours of the morning with their dads, they were in the gym with Tony’s trainer, as Natasha and Steve had been posted down in Washington. She had worked their muscles and refined their fighting until they were almost lethal. It wasn’t until Clint had dropped by for. Weak they really became the pair to watch. Giovanna had become fond of the shining knives in the armoury, and YN had become fond of the arsenal of guns and Widow tech Natasha had left behind when she and Steve had left for Washington. Her aim was impeccable and her strategy on the matt threw even Clint a run for his money. It was an impossible match when Giovanna backed YN up— two angry, twirling tropical storms which could take out anyone who dared face them head-on. 

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers series #Steve Rogers smut #Steve Rogers drabble #Steve Rogers slowburn #slowburn #Steve Rogers fluff #Steve Rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #rogers x banner!reader #Steve Rogers x banner!reader #steve rogers blurb #Alpha!Steve #Dad!Steve #Nomad!Steve #post serum steve

[crewhonk]

...Of The Line (1)

A series collaboration with @nomadsgrogers where she writes for Giovanna as the reader! We’re just projecting onto our writing, its FINE

Series Summary: Steve watches YN Banner grow up before his eyes– from a shy, dorky sixteen-year-old to a fierce, brilliant woman who never fails to keep him on his toes. He knows that she’s untouchable, but that doesn’t stop him from being completely wrapped around her finger for the rest of his long life.

Series Warnings: Mutual Pining, age gap, gun use, these two are idiots– seriously they’re so dumb, slow burn, injuries

Pairings: eventual Steve Rogers X Banner!Reader, eventual Buky Barnes X OC!Stark

Chapter Summary: YN says goodbye to her best friends and watches as the events of The Winter Soldier go down. YN visits her best people in the hospital. 

Words: 4.1K

@nomadsgrogers version >> (” Till the End...”) Introduction

“... Of The Line” Masterlist

_________________

2014, two years later

Eventually, Giovanna had left to join Natasha and Steve in their work with SHEILD in Washington about a year after Natasha and Steve had initially left. They had come back for a short reprieve from work and were set off to go work to save lives again— 361 kilometres away. Giovanna had called it her first real mission as an Avenger while both YN and Tony had called it bullshit and begged her to stay. YN was never much for goodbyes— moped around for days until she found herself showered and in the lab. A bad habit that Giovanna critiqued her about.

“You really don’t have to leave, you know.” YN frowned, pulling her best friend into a hug and burying her face into her neck. Giovanna drew circles between the middle of her shoulder blades and stayed silent until YN pulled away and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Natasha joined the group of girls and pulled YN under her wing, kissing her temple and hugging her close. Nat had since bonded with the two younger women, now on the cusp of nineteen, taking them under her wing and training them when she could— watching movies and laughing long into the night when she was able.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Natasha’s suave, carefully selected speech patterns disappeared around the two girls— something that rarely ever happened. “I could really use a hand keeping Captain Bad Idea in line,” Natasha smirked and YN rolled her eyes and laughed, refusing to let the sudden heat blossoming on her face stop her from functioning like it usually did.

Steve Rogers had grown on her— he had become something less like a celebrity crush in 2012 to something deeper. Her adoration for the man had rooted in her lungs, constricting her breathing until it seemed she would never be able to breathe again.

Not to be dramatic.

But it was true that the two had become closer. They trained together, ate together, watched shitty 80’s movies until the crack of dawn and then crashed on separate end of the same couch together. They kept touching to a minimal— an unspoken rule between the two which only caused for a rock in the progress of relationship building. Both, as the team knew, were very needy with touch and it only seeded the idea that the other person felt no real romantic interest in the other. That, and Steve’s consistent fear of making her crumble under his hands— young and fragile and too good for him.

YN’s eyes flickered over to where Steve was chatting with Tony and Bruce softly, allowed her eyes to rake over his appearance once, very quickly and then smiled back to her girls.

“I think you’ll be fine. You got Blind Enthusiasm over there to help you.” She nodded her chin towards Giovanna who seemed affronted at her statement.

“Hey! I’m not Blind Enthusiasm. Maybe Sassy Regret.” Giovanna pulled both Natasha and YN into her arms and squeezed them both close. Their foreheads touched for a few seconds before she pulled away and let her hand rest on YN’s cheek.

“Don’t blow anything up while I’m gone,” Giovanna warned.

“It’s no fun without you.” YN winked back, finishing their classic statement goodbye— uttered mostly when one left for coffee runs or actually went to bed at a time which humans usually did.

“Wanna say goodbye to him?” Natasha’s eyes flicked over to Steve who was watching them. YN’s eyes locked with his own and she shot Steve a small smile, raising her hand and giving a shy wave. Giovanna scoffed quietly to herself, toeing the ground with her sneakers at the innocent move.

Behind closed doors, YN rarely had a filter on the topic of Steve Rogers. Hashing out everything she wanted him to do to her and everything she wanted to do to him, sometimes in such great detail even Natasha, when she was able to join, would blush. Now, in the midst of that same man, YN was reduced to a blushing, quiet sixteen-year-old version of herself.

YN was like a pit bull raised in a good family— her bark was most certainly worse than her bite.

“Nah. We already said goodbye.” YN smiled, looking away from Steve who seemed to be less than keen on doing the same. Giovanna and Natasha’s identical smirks dropped at the very same time.

“Okay, great. We’re going to have a FaceTime session tonight and you’re going to spill everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every. Single. Thing.”

______________________

The tower was lonely without the chaos that ensued during the previous three and a half years, all due to the rapidly advancing education that was YN Banner and Giovanna Stark’s life. There were no crashes from the lab on the 52nd floor, as YN was played out on the couch, uninspired and bored out of her mind at one in the morning. She had been throwing up a stress ball into the air, catching it all the while glaring at the holograms on the table in front of her. When the hologram flickered for the third time in ten seconds she growled and threw the stress ball at it, eyes flashing neon green only briefly.

“Woah! Squish, you okay?” Bruce exclaimed, walking around the table and rubbing the spot on his forehead where the ball had collided. YN muttered an apology as her dad sat down next to her, watching the diagram of a blood cell rotate in front of them.

“Been better.” She mumbled, taking the stress ball back from her father and digging her nails into it. Both Bruce and Big Guy took notice, and they were equally concerned.

“What’s goin’ on?” He tried. He was usually wonderful at this father-ing schtick but ever since he had left when she was only sixteen, she had become increasingly independent. Now almost twenty, she was a full adult and Bruce had no idea where he belonged anymore.

“I just— God. I want to think I’m a grown up. I want to think I’m independent from other people and can function without another person but I don’t think I can do that. I’ve always had you and when I didn’t I’ve always had Gio and Natasha and Steve and Tony. I’m no good alone.” YN ranted, tears welling in her eyes and Bruce could feel his heart melting and breaking both at the same time.

“You don’t have to be alone, you know. Humans are social creatures. We don’t do well alone. We’re meant to be in packs and we’re meant to have those social bonds. Independence for us in the wild usually means death— in modern times it just sometimes means everything short of that.” Bruce hummed and he wrapped his arm around his baby girls shoulders. She sniffed into his neck and wiped tears away from her eyes.

“But Gio’s independent. So are Steve and Natasha and I don’t get why I can’t be like that.” Her voice was thick as she spoke.

“Because you’re you. You don’t have to be like them. There’s no shame in leaning on people, you know.” He mumbled and Big Guy seemed to agree, chest rumbling in agreement. There was as silence before YN’s quiet voice rang out loud and clear.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, right, Papa?”

Bruce’s heart skipped a beat and he pulled her closer, squishing her to his chest and blinking back tears.

“I’ll stay right here just as long as you want me to, okay?”

“Okay.”

Another Pause.

“Wanna help me try to figure out our blood?”

____________________

It was a week before ‘Tonights’ FaceTime could take place, as both Natasha and Giovanna had been swept up in the life and work of SHEILD. It was seven at night when YN’s phone rang by her side, laptop on her lap in bed playing “The 100”. The phone chimed, and YN in all of her excitement nearly launched her computer from her legs in her hurry to answer it.

“Hi!” She said excitedly, shutting her laptop and pulling her covers closer to her chest. On her screen were her best friends, faces squished together and smiling so widely. The flush on Giovanna’s cheeks was a telltale sign they were at least a glass and a half into their wine.

“Baby girl!” Giovanna almost squealed, and YN’s heart clenched. Oh, how she had missed the Stark energy because sure, Tony had it all but there was nothing like seeing it in jammed into a 5’3 Italian firecracker of a girl.

“How’s Washington? Oh my gosh, have you met Obama yet? What about Michelle? Are her arms as magnificent as they look in pictures?” YN rushed, and the two girls laughed.

“Washington is good! It’s too vanilla for my taste.” Giovanna replied and Natasha said something about how it was because the sewer rats were the closest things she ever got to owning a pet.

“No, we haven’t met any of the Obama’s either.” Natasha quelled YN’s thirst for the First Family and YN sat back in mock disappointment.

“Well, then what’re you even doing there?” The others laughed at her response before they both lost their excited exterior. It would never fail to impress YN how in sync Giovanna and Natasha were at almost all times.

“So, don’t think we forgot, little lamb.” Natasha chastised and YN rolled her eyes, before getting up and grabbing a bottle of wine from her wine cooler hidden in the back of her closet. No way was she explaining her and Steve’s goodbye while sober. No, ma’am.

She raised the bottle to her lips and wiped her hand across her mouth.

“What d’you wanna know?” YN resigned herself to what she could picture as hours worth of interrogation.

“Everything.”

____________________

It was the night before the team was about to leave for Washington. Giovanna had already left the common room under the guise of packing, allowing for Steve and YN to have a few hours to themselves under the glow of the city lights streaming through the windows and the television.

Steve could feel his hands clamming up. Sure, he had been alone with YN countless times before, but it was only on his visit back did he notice that YN had grown up. Long gone were her puberty curves. There was that same trademark Banner softness to her, but he didn’t miss the way that her shirt clung to rigid muscle when she was straining herself in the gym. He didn’t miss the lines of her calf and thigh muscles whenever she wore those tight black shorts that made his head spin. He didn’t miss the curl of her wild hair or how her eyes seemed to droop in a way that made his heart stutter whenever she looked at him.

He had been alone with YN before, countless times. She never failed to make him feel like a 16-year-old kid in Brooklyn, though.

“You know, I’m really gonna miss nights like these.” She said, curling into the cushion of the couch and pulling her blanket to her chin— comfort habit, he had learned.

“Whatd’ya mean?” He asked, suddenly not at all interested in the movie playing in front of them. He knew this was an iconic 90’s movie but he couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve YN.

“You and me all curled up. I mean, come on. Showing movies to Captain America for the first time?” She giggled sleepily at his eye roll.

“As if I care about it, honestly.” He mirrored her position, facing her and leaning on the back of the couch.

“Why don’t you care about it? Clueless is one of the best movies out there.” YN tried to sound offended, but she couldn’t find it in herself to sound anything but nervous and breathy. Steve’s eyes were drooping, fighting hard to stay awake and watching her with a softness he rarely showed anyone. In some wild, delusional state, she could almost believe what Giovanna and Natasha told her— that he could come to love someone like her.

“Not my type.” He muttered, forcing himself to keep his hands from reaching out and placing them on her bare arms. God, all he wanted to do was run the back of his knuckles over her skin. Wanted to make goosebumps erupt all over her body. Wanted to make her suck in a breath and look at him through those innocent, peering eyes.

Steve kept his hands to himself.

“What is your type?” She whispered, and his heart climbed violently up his throat. He coughed once to get it back to where it belonged and when that didn’t work, he pulled away farther from her. He couldn’t— she was too young and good and pure and everything he would ruin.

He wouldn’t ruin YN Banner.

“We should get you to bed, okay, Sugar?” He said, glancing absently at the time before rising slowly to his feet. He wanted nothing more than to curl up against her, soak her in enough for him to survive the next few months away. He stopped himself, however, filling his arms with blankets and pillows and waiting for her to stand and join him.

She almost looked disappointed he didn’t help her. Definitely looked disappointed he was ending the night.

She only nodded, however, and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders like a cape, following him to the elevator in silence and riding up in silence. Only speaking again when they reached her floor. She stepped out, turning around and placing her hand on the door so it wouldn’t close on her. She was quiet for a time, trying her very best to memorize the way blue skin had found a home in the inner corners of his eyes. How the left side of his nose was just a little crooked. Remember the cleft of his chin and the swell of his bottom lip. She sniffed and nodded and stepped back.

“I’ll miss you, grandpa. Don’t know who I’ll make old people jokes about anymore.” She forced a playful smile over her tired face and he mirrored it.

They were both so close, but so, so far away.

“I’ll miss you, Sweetheart. Don’t know who’s gonna make you get to bed in time for your afternoon nap.”

“Guess you’ll have to come back soon, then.”

Then, the elevator door slid shut with a quiet ‘ding’.

______________________

YN had thought them to be dead. Nick, Steve, Natasha, and Giovanna killed in a gun battle in the middle of Washington. She had thought them dead until she got the call. It was Tony who called, half out of his mind with worry but voice dripping with relief.

“They’re alive, YN. News— look at the news.” She listened to her uncle, ran down the hall of her floor to the common room with television in it and flicked on the channel. Sure, Tony may have been only five floors away, but she was suddenly very familiar with the feeling of her legs and arms and heart going numb.

The flashing red at the bottom screen told her this was live. Large hellicarriers armed to the teeth were falling on Washington, a collection of live footage from the news crews and videos from Twitter streaming on the screen, and YN cried out when a rather shaky video caught sight of Giovanna, fighting, yelling, bleeding through her uniform but alive. YN let out a dry sob and leaned forward on her knees, putting her head in her hands and crying into them despite the lack of tears streaming from her eyes.

Then, when she looked back, she saw him. Angry, and scared and like Giovanna, bleeding but very much alive. He looked to be running— chasing after someone who was singlehandedly taking out an entire SHEILD battalion.

She didn’t care. Her guys were alive.

________________________

The quinjet ride to Washington was only half an hour, but both YN and Tony could have sworn it would have been easier to walk themselves. The jet landed on the roof of the hospital and she sprinted side by side with Tony down the stairs, bursting through the doors of the VIP section the hospital had closed off.

Large men in combat greens were lining the hallways, guns on their shoulders and there was an eerie silence in the hallway.

“Ms. Stark is in room 567, Captain Rogers is in the room next to her— 569.” The nurse, nervous and excited at the sight of the Tony Stark in her own hospital making her voice higher than usual.

“I need— I’m sorry.” He whispered once they got to the rooms and YN rolled her eyes, pushing him towards his daughters' room.

“Go, we got all day. I’m gonna go see Steve.” YN tried to ignore the way Tony’s worried eyes gave away to something almost teasing, and she turned around to the room 569, knocking on the ajar door and smiling at the man in the room.

He was sitting next to an unconscious Steve. His dark skin and dark eyes stunned her— a man of genuine beauty was protecting Steve. He looked at her, eyes intense and guarding.

“Who’re you?” His voice was suave and the gap in his teeth was charming. YN tried to fight back the urge to walk over and tell him just who she was— he obviously cared much for Steve. The bags under his eyes and the stains on his shirt were dead giveaways that he hadn’t left the hospital in a few days.

“YN Banner. Who are you?” Her voice was strong, and her gaze landed on Steve who looked very much worse for wear. A large gash that was deep enough to require stitches extended from the corner of his mouth to his earlobe, a black and green and red bruise on his opposite cheek let her know that the bone underneath his skin must have been completely shattered. The hospital gown he was wearing was pulled to the side to show more blossoming bruises and YN coughed, trying to rid her throat of the sudden lump that had taken root there.

The man made a noise of surprise and joy, a wide smile blossoming over his face before he stood and extended a hand.

“Sam Wilson. Wow, the famous YN Banner. Steve and Giovanna never shut up about you this whole week, it’s nice to put a face to the name. Nice to meet you, Steve’s girlfriend, YN Banner.” He smirked and his smile grew at the way she spluttered in surprise.

“I’m— we’re not— I’m not—“ She rushed, cheeks flaming to the tips of her ears. Sam laughed and stepped closer, moving to walk by her and out of the room, knowing she would want some alone time.

“He said the same thing when Gio and Natasha called him your boyfriend. Got more red, though.” And with that, and a clap on the shoulder, Sam walked out of the room.

YN’s gaze drifted back to Steve, and she pressed the backs of her cold hands to her face to try to quell the blush that seemed to have found a home there. She walked over to his side, pulling a chair to his bedside and reaching out, hesitating only slightly before wrapping both of her hands around his much larger one. The knuckles were bruised and bloody, clean stitches already looking to have been removed and she rested her cheek on them, looking at Steve’s face.

It was only a half an hour before his hand twitched in hers, and he grunted at the pain he felt immediately upon waking. He cracked his eyes open slowly, crusted closed with tears and other sleep residue and felt someone's hands tighten around his own.

YN was there, eyes tired but relieved and Steve’s heart rate monitor picked up when she smiled at him, softly.

“Hey,” She whispered over the music from the speaker Sam had brought in. Her tightened her grip on his hands and rested her lips on his fingers— not kissing them, but resting there and Steve cursed the machine beeping continuously and irregularly beside him.

“Hi,” His voice was raspy from the fight and smoke and water they had to pump from his lungs and the breathing tube from the surgeries he had received.

“Whose idea was it to take down SHIELD?” She asked, corners of her lips turning up. She already knew the answer, but it would be nice to have the opportunity to make fun of the man in front of her.

“Gio’s?” He tried and YN laughed against his hand, breath drifting over his knuckles and making the pink of blush creep up his neck. God, how the hell did someone as good as her make him so unbearably nervous. She had gotten even more beautiful in the four months they hadn’t seen each other.

“Nice try, Captain Bad Idea.” YN teased, and she pulled one hand from his grip to brush the back of her fingers against his forehead and his eyes fluttered shut briefly at her touch. To anyone looking into the room, they looked like a couple— two people so in love and so worried for each other, and both Steve and YN knew this, neither too keen on ruining the illusion. They only wanted to stay in this little moment for a few minutes longer— for as long as it took for reality to pull them away from each other once more.

____________________

Soon, Tony interrupted their moment outside of reality, needing to discuss and make plans for the future of the team and whoever remained of SHEILD.

“I’ll be back. Can you eat anything yet?”

“I think so,” His voice was quiet and he really, truly, desperately didn’t want you to leave— didn’t want to let you go already.

“Okay, I’ll find something good.” YN stood, squeezing his hand once before pulling away slowly and Tony raised an eyebrow at the way Steve almost seemed to reach after it, wanting her to come back so soon.

YN didn’t hear the way Tony teased Steve, comments of ‘gramps’ and ‘you know she’s too smart for you, right?’ Followed quickly by Steve telling him to shove it somewhere the sun didn’t shine. Instead, she walked over to the next room and didn’t even bother knocking before walking in and crossing her arms, glaring at her best friend who looked a little worse for wear.

“You look like shit, babe,” Giovanna said with a wicked grin.

“You’re one to talk. Really? Taking down secret government Nazi’s? Without me? How dare you.” YN dropped her stern act and padded over to Giovanna’s bed, lifting the blankets and curling under them, resting her head on her best friends shoulder.

“Sorry about that.” Giovanna shifted slightly and moved to face YN, glad she had chosen to invade her bed on this side, as she didn’t need to lay on the stab wound she had received only hours before.

“I told you not to die.” YN chastised lightly, and Giovanna patted her shoulder.

“I didn’t— I just got stabbed lightly by sex on legs.” She said and YN looked at her sharply.

“Excuse me?”

And then, Giovanna launched into a story of a man-- the Winter Soldier-- dressed in all black, hair hanging around his face which was, apparently, sculpted by Hades himself.

“And the best part,” Giovanna continued, pausing for dramatic effect. “It was Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes!”

YN’s heart dropped to her stomach and she could feel the blood leave her face.

“What? Steve didn’t say anything about— oh, my God.” YN whispered, and she barely had time to even worry about Steve before Giovanna made a noise in the back of her throat.

“Oh, so you saw your favourite Beefcake before your best friend?” Giovanna teased, relishing in the way YN looked as if she wished the ground would swallow her whole.

“I— you were— Tony needed to see you.” YN stuttered and Giovanna rolled her eyes, squeezing YN closer to her. God, she missed her bumbling, pining, lovestruck best friend.

“Suuuure.”

______________________________

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