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xoxoladyaz · 9 months

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AU-gust, Day 9: Cleaning Crew

A/N: Avengers Crossover and allusions to smut, ahoy!

This ended up way hurt/comfort/fluff than I anticipated and there were almost no sexy times? And it was definitely the Avengers cockblocking Eddie and not the other way around so if there's still interest in that, I could see me writing THAT AU in the future! I just wanted Steve to be properly appreciated, you know? Anyways, happy AU-gust Day 9!

“This is the weirdest NDA I’ve ever seen.”

“Question, how many NDAs have you seen?”

Nancy Wheeler’s pinched face glared at Steve through his Starkphone. “Enough.” She rolled her eyes at Steve and restarted her perusal of the hefty contract Steve had emailed over to her (that she’d insisted on printing and making notes on, because even ten years removed from high school, Nancy Wheeler was thorough.) “There’s some things here regarding interpersonal relationships that seem a little unprecedented.”

“But?” Steve Harrington echoed, his eyebrows near his hairline.

“But you are dealing with the world’s first literal superhero team so these probably aren’t unreasonable requests,” she finished between gritted teeth.

“Great, so I can sign it then.”

“Steve,” Nancy sighed, and she pinched her nose between her eyes, “are you sure you want to do this? If it’s a matter of money - ”

“It’s not, Nance. Neither one of us has to work,” Steve argued back and hey, he wasn’t wrong. The government had been obscenely generous in their payouts after they’d finally defeated Vecna. And, okay, was it a little weird that instead of going to a fancy school or kickstarting his musical career or buying a weed farm that Steve rented a normal apartment and put the rest away into an investment fund? Maybe. Did he need to work, let alone work as a glorified cleaning service for the one percent? No, not at all.

But maintaining one of his (recently-divorced) mother’s properties had turned into a prosperous career because hey, it turns out all of those years spent cleaning up after the kids (and the interdimensional monsters they kept as pets) meant that he was, like, really good at cleaning. (And he was still incredibly insecure about his intelligence, or lack-thereof, and he didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t get into the dream school he applied for.)

And now he’d been personally asked – by Pepper Potts herself, of all people (who apparently played bridge with his mom?) – to take over the general care and upkeep of the personnel apartments at the newly re-christened Avengers Tower in New York City.

(Thank God he’d been out of town at one of Lucas’ basketball games when the whole attack happened; not that he wouldn’t have been willing to help but man, fighting monsters takes a toll when you’re not a superhuman. And he was only thirty.)

“This just feels like a cry for help, Steve. Do you really want to look after the world’s most difficult group of people?”

Steve stared at Nancy without blinking. “I babysat Henderson for years. I feel like I’m still babysitting Henderson.”

“I know, it’s just – I’m just worried that you’re not moving on, Steve.”

And, well, that hurt. Because sure, he didn’t have a doctorate like Robin or Dustin and he wasn’t playing professional sports like Lucas or spearheading global disability rights campaigns like Max or running a prosperous weed farm like Argyle or was part of the reporting and photography duo that was Nancy and Jonathan, nor was he part of a Grammy-winning rock band or a retired superhero or –

(It’s just, at the end of the day, Steve didn’t have really big dreams. After years spent fighting interdimensional monsters that liked to crawl their way out of walls, all of the other stuff – fame, fortune, money, a legacy – it didn’t really feel important anymore. All Steve wanted now, and truthfully, all he really wanted then, was a place to call home and people to belong to.

So honestly, it was really fucking rude of Nancy to judge him for just wanting that. And he was going to be working in close proximity with the Avengers of all people, like, how was that not success? Sure, he’d essentially be a live-in maid, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t doing important work.)

Steve didn’t say any of this to Nancy, of course; he didn’t need to. The looks on her face – shock, and then guilt – said enough.

“Steve - ”

“Thanks for your help, Nance,” he replied quickly, and then he hung up the phone.

(They were all split up now, they had been for years. And keeping them all together, staying together, being a family? That had been his dream for years.

But maybe it was time for a new dream now.

And maybe the Avengers Tower was the perfect place to start.)

/////

Working at the Tower meant that sometimes Steve felt like he was cleaning a frat house, mainly because the communal kitchen was usually covered in junk food wrappers and empty beer bottles and days’ old coffee mugs.

(“Trust me,” Pepper Potts had said drily the first time they’d had a check-in meeting, “this doesn’t come closeto a Tony Stark frat house party.”)

Still, he was on time every day, kept to himself, and most importantly didn’t sell out any information to any of the many, many media outlets that sent him offers. That, along with the fact that apparently Steve had an obscenely high security clearance (thanks, Hawkins!) meant that he was asked to officially move into the staff quarters of Avengers Tower within his first month of work.

(Which had the added effect of him actually meeting the Avengers and, well, it was a little weird.

Because if Steve didn’t know any better, he’d say that they were flirting with him. Or, even worse, that they were staking some sort of claim, and that didn’t make sense, right?

Right?)

/////

1. Tony Stark

“Hey honeybun, how’s it hanging?”

“To the left,” Steve replied absentmindedly as he disinfected the industrial-grade espresso machine.

Someone choked behind him and – shit.

He’d just said that to his BOSS.

(His incredibly hot, incredibly wealthy, incredibly smart and powerful boss.

SHIT.)

“Mr. Stark!” Steve exclaimed as he spun to face his employer. “Mr. Stark, I am so, so sorry, that was so inappropriate - ”

“First of all, please for the love of god call me Tony,” Mr. Stark – Tony – ordered with a smirk as he leaned on the kitchen’s island. He was dressed in an old AC/DC tee that sent a pang through Steve’s heart because wowit reminded him so much of Eddie (although that’s where their style similarities ended, because Eddie always wore loose bottoms and Tony’s pants were always fitted to accentuate his ass.

NOT THAT STEVE HAD BEEN LOOKING.)

“And second of all,” Tony purred as he leaned further across the island, getting right up into Steve’s space, “don’t tease me if you aren’t going to follow through, sweetheart.”

Steve didn’t need a mirror to tell him that he was flushing bright red. “I – I - ”

“Mister Harrington, sir,” JARVIS spoke – which was a fully functional AI that Dustin would die to know about – “there is a call waiting for you on your personal line, a Mister Edward Munson.”

Speak of the devil.

“Oh,” Steve murmured, his face cooling off as quickly as it had heated and he spun around, hands shaking as he looked for a towel. “Yeah, let me just get a towel - ”

“JARVIS, put the call on my line,” he heard Tony order, and then a warm hand was at his back. “I’ve got this, handsome.”

Steve turned just in time to see Tony shoot him a wink and pick up his phone. “Eddie Munson, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you,” Tony started and then he was gone, disappearing out of the kitchen and towards his lab.

“I – JARVIS?”

“Mister Stark is a mystery to behold,” the AI replied with a sigh. “How about a glass of champagne?”

You know what? Fuck it.

“That sounds great, J.”

2. Steve Rogers

“ – and I said, ‘excuse me, but only one of us outsmarted some leftover commie bastards at the age of ten and it wasn’t you, Professor.’”

Steve snorted, listening as Erica detailed her most recent argument – and victory – with her prick of an international relations professor. (A few days after his weird interaction with Tony in the kitchen, he’d been granted access to accept personal calls in the main Avengers spaces, which meant that he had more time to catch up with his friends while cleaning which was a blessing because some of the dusting in this place? Took hours.)

“Doesn’t that break your NDA?”

“Please,” Erica snorted over the living room’s loudspeakers, “I’ve got Owens wrapped around my finger, just like you with a certain member of the one percent.”

“Sorry, what?” Steve paused mid-wipe, looking confusedly at the now-gleaming metallic coffee table in front of him. “What are you talking about?”

“Tony Stark, your knight in iron armor?” Erica replied in her best I’m-talking-to-an-idiot-right-now voice. “Or did you forget that he’s screening your calls?”

“He’s screening my what?”

“Please, we all heard about his little talk with the Nerd King,” she scoffed and oh yeah, he’d forgotten about that. (Honestly, he had no idea what those two had even talked about; when he asked Tony, the older man had changed the subject and ordered super fancy sushi instead.) “Now, if you had a bodyguard like that back at Starcourt, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten your ass kicked by the Russians.”

“What Russians?”

Steve didn’t scream, but he might have let out a high-pitched noise of surprise at the sound of Captain America’s voice. He turned around to find Steve Rogers standing at attention in the living room, his eyes glaring at the speakers overhead.

“Steve,” Erica’s voice echoed slowly, “am I hearing Captain America right now?”

“Just Steve Rogers, ma’am,” the tall blonde replied automatically.

“And just how long have you been there, Just Steve Rogers?”

“Long enough. Now, what is this about the Russians?” He asked, and his piercing blue eyes dropped onto Steve’s face and his heart was beating fast because he was nervous and for no other reason.

“Seriously? How do you not know? Haven’t you read Steve’s file?” Erica asked incredulously and okay, this conversation needed to be done immediately.

Piercing blue eyes grew shocked and Captain Rogers looked, well, sick to his stomach. “You have a file?”

“Okay!” Steve jumped up before this could spiral any further out of hand. “Erica, it was great talking to you, I’ll call you later, uh, Captain Rogers - ”

“Please, call me Steve.”

“Right, Steve, there’s nothing to be, uh, worried about - ”

“She said Russians,” Cap pointed to the ceiling, “so there’s definitely something to be worried about. Does Tony know about the Russians?”

“I’m sorry, did somebody say my name?” Tony popped his head into the room because of course he was also nearby.

“Did you know about this?”

“I know a lot of things, Cap, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Did you know that Steve was attacked by Russians?”

“Steve was what?!”

(Steve was then treated to the sight of Iron Man and Captain America reading his security file, staring at him in shock, and then stomping off to do something about their fury? The last part of that entire thing didn’t make sense, but JARVIS sent him some whiskey so hey, it could have been worse.

And if he let Captain Rogers tuck an extra blanket around him during movie night, well, that was just his business.)

3. Natasha Romanoff (and Clint Barton)

“I heard you lost a fight with some Russians.”

“JESUS!” Steve startled, barely stopping himself from dropping Tony’s mother’s expensive China all over the floor. (The porcelain set hadn’t been looked at in years and Pepper wanted to use it for the next investors meeting, so of course this is when the infamous Black Widow approached him.)

“Okay, first of all,” he said after he had set down the dishware and turned to face the smirking redhead, “I didn’t lose the fight, I knocked one out.”

“And then you got surrounded, captured, and were tortured for a total of two hours in a hidden bunker,” she finished. (How did she get her eyebrow to quirk like that? And why did he feel like she was flirting with him but also being mean?)

(And how could he get that skill?)

“I – yeah, you’re not wrong about that,” Steve muttered, glancing away from Natasha. “At least we all made it out alive. And we survived the whole Hawkins earthquake thing.”

Natasha snorted and murmured something under her breath that sounded like Russian but also sounded like metal and frankly didn’t make a lot of sense. She cleared her throat and spoke up and, well, whatever she said before must not have been important. “It’s a good thing you have us to train you.”

“Yeah,” he murmured absentmindedly. Then –

“Wait, what?”

Which is how Steve started spending two hours out of every afternoon “training” with Natasha in the official Avengers’ sparring room. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how much good it was doing, given that “training” mainly consisted of Natasha throwing him around the room and giving him bruises.

(Okay, that he was into, and she knew it too, judging by the wink she’d send him every time he headed off to the showers.)

After a few weeks, when she’d deemed him “competent” enough, she had Clint Barton start “assisting” as well, meaning there were two of them beating him up now which meant twice the embarrassment and twice the bruises.

(And twice the amount of time jerking off in the shower.)

(This was really starting to get out of hand.)

4. Thor and Bruce Banner

“This is really starting to get out of hand.”

“What is?” Robin asked as she poured the last of her Flaming Hot Cheeto dust into her mouth. She was the first person Steve had been able to secure a visitor’s pass for; Dustin was next on the list, followed by Max and Erica and then the rest of the gang (although according to JARVIS they were running into some sort of problem with Eddie’s pass, which could take up to an additional two months? He didn’t fully understand it, JARVIS had told him during breakfast a few days ago and he’d gotten distracted by Natasha throwing knives at Clint’s apple strudel and Steve accidentally breaking the toaster again.)

Steve grimaced as he watched her lick her fingers. “You mean aside from your Cheeto addiction?”

“Hey, this isn’t an addiction, I can stop any time,” she replied with a snort before tossing her empty bag at Steve.

(Gross.)

“Sorry, what were you saying dingus? Something about things getting out of hand?”

“I don’t know, I just,” Steve set down his feather-duster (that he hadn’t even been using, he’d just been tossing it around like his old ice cream scooper) and got close enough to Robin so she could hear his whisper, “I might be reading things wrong, but I’m almost getting the feeling that they’re into me or something?”

Robin frowned. “Who, Eddie?”

“Eddie?” Now it was Steve’s turn to be confused. “No, the Avengers.”

“The AVENGERS?” Robin squeaked just as the door to the elevator banks opened. Steve and Robin whipped around to see Thor enter the main atrium with Dr. Banner on his heels.

“Steve!” Thor shot him a blinding smile and strutted over. Upon reaching Steve he wrapped him up in a hug and lifted him off the ground.

“Hey Thor!” Steve wheezed, trying to pat what he could of Thor’s back.

“How I have missed your countenance, my friend,” Thor boomed, and then he was setting Steve back on the ground –

And kissing him on the lips.

Thor leaned back and beamed, ignoring the fact that Steve was openly gaping at him. “It is good to be home.”

“Yeah? Yeah,” Steve breathed before shooting a quick look at Robin who looked completely and totally dumbfounded.

“And you must be the Lady Robin!” Thor said, turning his mega-watt smile upon Robin who flushed bright red. “Steve has told us of your exploits and your intellect. You would do well amongst the heroes of Asgard.”

“Thank you? I mean, thank you,” Robin squeaked.

(If Steve wasn’t in a state of complete and utter shock, he might have laughed at her, but he couldn’t move.)

“I have also seen the flag of your people,” Thor continued, like he didn’t notice Robin’s utter embarrassment, “and I have a lovely friend named Val who is searching for a paramour of her own. Do you think you would be interested? I could arrange a meeting.”

“Val. Val? As in - ”

“Valkyrie, yes,” Dr. Banner finally cut in sheepishly. “Also, hi, I’m Dr. Banner.”

Robin could only muster up a wave.

“Uh, hi, hi Bruce,” Steve shook his head, forcing himself to get it together it was only a kiss.

“Hi Steve, good to see you,” Bruce replied, and now he was bright red and well apparently Thor was the only person who wasn’t blushing right now and Steve needed to get a handle on this stat.

“That would be great, Thor!” Steve cut in, saving Robin from having to respond. “Robin’s going to be in town for a few more days.”

“Wonderful!” Thor said, turning back to beam at Steve. “I shall invite Val for dinner tomorrow but for now, I shall allow you to return to your revelry. Lady Robin,” he said with a bow towards Robin and then, turning to face Steve, he shot Steve a smug wink. “Steve.” And with that Thor was gone, headed towards Tony’s lab with a still-blushing Bruce Banner hot on his heels.

Steve turned to stare at Robin.

Robin stared back at Steve.

“Holy shit.”

5. The Team

Surprisingly – or unsurprisingly – Robin’s date with Val had gone really, really well; in fact, it had gone so well that Robin transferred her graduate credits to NYU in a matter of days and moved into the Tower as well.

(“Steve. Steve. She’s a literal alien warrior goddess. Who cares where I work? I don’t even need to work.”

Still, the NYU transfer went incredibly smoothly, so smoothly that Steve confronted a certain genius billionaire playboy philanthropist about it. Tony had denied any input and distracted him with more sushi and a thorough tour of his sportscars which had ended up lasting for hours.)

Anyways, with Robin now living as an occupant of the Tower and the rest of the Avengers fully settled in and in agreement on a chore chart, Steve was starting to wonder just why he was still employed; like, what purpose was he serving? He really did try to stay on top of the cleaning, but the others were pitching in almost constantly, and it was a miracle if he was responsible for cooking even one meal a day.

“I just don’t get it,” he finally said to Robin on a particularly hot day in July. They were the sole occupants of the Tower’s rooftop infinity pool (as the Avengers proper were spending the day in a series of meetings), so this was the closest Steve was going to get to having a private conversation with Robin.

(Like, he was really, really glad that Val was so obviously head over heels for his best friend, but it definitely cut down on his and Robin’s cuddle time.)

“Don’t get what, dingus?”

Steve shrugged and ran a wet hand through his drying hair. “I don’t know, why I’m still here? I mean, they aren’t really using me as a cleaner anymore, and I mean, Bruce is a way better cook than me and he’s pretty much taken over so, like, what am I even doing here?”

Robin turned and pushed up her sunglasses so they were making eye contact. “Seriously? You’re serious right now.”

Steve nodded.

“You really don’t see it?”

“See what?”

Groaning, Robin slid her sunglasses back onto her face and turned back towards the horizon. “I’m not going to be the one to spell it out for you, dingus. You’re going to have to do this on your own. Or, better yet, why do you just ask?”

“Uh, maybe because I don’t want to get fired?”

(Robin shoved his head underwater at that which, frankly? Was incredibly rude.

He got his revenge later by knocking her into the pool after she’d finally dried off.)

+ 1 Bucky Barnes

Being fresh off of a highly-advanced plane-ship-thing from Wakanda meant that Steve hadn’t seen a whole lot of James “Bucky” Barnes. He’d sat next to him at dinner a few times, shared a couch during their re-watch of Game of Thrones, even sparred a bit at Natasha’s direction during Steve’s “training,” but they hadn’t really talked, which made the fact that after Steve’s un-helpful swim with Robin, he found said super soldier waiting for him in the hallway outside of his bedroom.

“Bucky, hi,” Steve nodded, rubbing his towel across the back of his neck. “Sorry, did you need something? Is there a problem with - ”

“No problems, doll, I just wanted to have a chat,” the dark-haired man purred, and Steve?

He felt his stomach tangle up in knots.

“A-about what, exactly?”

Bucky hummed and uncrossed his arms, the vibranium arm shimmering under the light. “Well, a little birdie told me you had some questions about what your place is here,” he said, a playful sparkle in his eye. “And,” Bucky stepped closer and backed Steve up until Steve was leaning against the door to his own apartment, “since it seems that my teammates haven’t made your position entirely clear, I thought I would take matters into my own hands.”

Steve didn’t even get a sound out before Bucky was surging forward, planting the sort of kiss on Steve that he knew he’d never recover from because for as forceful and passionate as it was, it was gentle too: the way Bucky’s cybernetic arm wrapped around Steve’s back and help him up; the way his other hand cupped the side of Steve’s face; the way Bucky hummed, like Steve’s lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted;

The way he lifted Steve up and kicked open the door.

“I – I - ” Steve panted out as the door swung shut behind them. “I still - ”

“You’re home, doll,” Bucky murmured against Steve’s lips. “That’s what you are.”

And, well.

Steve couldn’t not kiss him then.

(And he couldn’t not give him every piece of himself in return underneath his silken sheets.)

Four Months Later

“Okay, now this is the weirdest NDA I’ve ever seen.”

Jonathan snorted from across the room as he fiddled with his camera.

“Hey, you were the one that wanted the exclusive,” Steve replied. “I could have told you it would be more intensive.”

“Yeah, yeah, and who’s fault is that?” Nancy teased with a glimmer in her eye. “I’m not the househusband here.”

“Umm excuse me, that’s my job?” Robin piped up from her spot on Val’s lap. “Steve is obviously the trophy wife.”

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed, but then a pair of godly arms wrapped around his waist, a cybernetic arm wrapped around his shoulders, and a pair of expensive lips pressed a hot kiss to his cheek.

“Best trophy wife a guy could ask for,” Tony crooned in his ear and then laughed at Steve’s blush.

(His partners weren’t the good guys, they were evil.)

“Dude, Eddie would shit a brick if he saw this,” Jonathan said with another snort.

“Oh, how is - ”

“Who do you speak of? I am not familiar,” Thor cut Robin’s question off loudly, his thundering voice vibrating up and down Steve’s back.

“I think he said Freddie - ”

“Oh, like Freddy Krueger – Cap, we need you to watch A Nightmare on Elm Street - ”

“ – after the shoot! Do you think Tony will order us sushi again?”

“ – Steve first, Steve, are you in the mood for sushi?”

Steve felt Nancy nudge him, and he turned to see her smiling. “Hey. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Nance,” Steve smiled back.

“It’s good to finally be home.”

#steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington my beloved #avengers #tony stark #thor #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #stobin #stobin friendship #valkyrie #sorry eddie you snooze you lose #and now it is time for me to snooze because this is way too fucking long my god #august fanfic challenge

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captainjimothycarter · 5 months

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Sad Thought:

Steve must've been eager to tell Natasha that he saw Peggy in her office and that she kept the photo of pre-serum him. He must've wanted to gush to her about how beautiful she was, how he almost broke and touched her.

He must've wanted to confess all the complicated feelings raising in him

He never got to

#Steve and Natasha's friendship is important to me #Steve & Natasha #Steggy #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #natasha romanoff

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darsynia · 1 year

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MCU Masterlist

Asks and questions are OPEN BUT SLOW for the moment (I have a bunch of things to write on a time crunch! If you want to send on in, just be aware it'be combined with a bingo challenge/fest story most likely!) Please comment if you'd like to be on a taglist! If you'd like to instead follow the account @darsywrites and turn on those notifications, that's my archive. Only my stories will be posted there.

I write primarily for Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, but I have a Bruce story, some Stephen Strange, and a couple of Steve/Natasha smut fics to post here someday. I'm open to suggestions (though, I can't promise I'll be able to fill your request quickly, as I'm a mom of 3 who are all as extra as I am. I will do my best!)

Tony Stark Masterlist

Steve Rogers Masterlist

Back to the Masterlist...

I have quite a few stories already on AO3 if you don't want to wait!

{ Fave: 💚 }{ Romance: ♥️ }{ Angst: 🖤 }{ All Audiences: 🤍 }{ Smut: 🔥 }

TRUST FALL (masterlist) (Tony/OC, MCU rewrite from IM1+) ♥️🔥

Current Chapter: Ch 26b | TBC

IRON HELIX MASTERLIST

(Tony/OC fan in the world, possible series) 💚♥️🔥 | Chapter Two

MODERN MYTHOLOGY (Tony/OC soulmate AU) 💚♥️🤍

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 (complete)

IN SEARCH OF A FAIRY TALE (Tony/OC smut) ♥️🔥

Part I | Part II | (Complete)

PRESENT IMPERFECT MASTERLIST

((See Steve for 'Nearer, My God, to Thee' a Stony Titanic AU))

I KNOW NO OTHER WAY THAN THIS ♥️🤍

(Tony & Bruce friendship, Bruce/OFC) Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | TBC

PLUS ONE (Tony Stark/Partyguest!Reader kiss fic) ♥️ Oneshot

BUILD ME A COCOON SO I CAN CRAWL INSIDE YOUR LOVE (Tony/GN!Reader Hurt/Comfort) ♥️🖤 Oneshot

UNTIL MY STEPS RETURN (Tony/OC established relationship) ♥️🔥 Oneshot

THE SACRIFICE PLAY (Steve/Tony mid-Ultron) ♥️🖤 Oneshot

GOODNIGHT, FAREWELL, & AMEN (IronStrange angst) 🖤 Oneshot

LIQUIDITY (OR, WELL DESERVED) (Tony/f!Reader) ♥️🔥 Oneshot

REPEAT AFTER ME (Tony/f!Reader Soulmate AU Canon Divergence 'mob AU') Oneshot 🖤

5 TIMES TONY ALMOST PUSHED BRUCE TOO FAR, AND 1 TIME HE DEFINITELY DID (Tony Stark & Bruce Banner Friendship) 💚🤍 Oneshot

THEY SHOW THEIR TRUTH (Steve/Natasha smut) 💚🖤🔥 Oneshot

EQUALS (Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff fluff) ♥️🤍 Oneshot

EPHEMERA (Steve Rogers/Artist!Reader angst smut) ♥️🖤🔥 Oneshot

HAPPY VAL (Steve Rogers/Barista!Reader fluff) ♥️🤍 Oneshot

JUST RIGHT MASTERLIST

NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE

Tony/Steve Titanic AU (not Jack/Rose, no death) Complete in 4 parts 💚♥️🔥 Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

SAFE IN MY (OUR) ARMS series 💚♥️🔥 (Eventual Steve x Bucky x lounge singer!Reader Sex Pollen)

Part I: HAND(S) OFF MASTERLIST -complete 4/6 Part II: SHIPPING AND HANDLING

Ch 1: Vicinity | Ch 2: Urgency | Ch 3: Gravity -new! 10/23

ANIMATE OBJECTS SERIES(Stephen/OC, 'suspicion to lovers')

DAY EIGHT (first meeting, relic imprint) 💚♥️🤍

Part I | Part II | Complete

DIMINISHED SEVENTH (training to first kiss) 💚♥️🤍 Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 - COMPLETE

SIXTH SENSE (coming someday)

RUIN YOUR DAY (Stephen Strange/Reader fluff) 💚♥️🤍 Oneshot

UPSIDE DOWN AND BACKWARDS (Stephen/Reader) 💚🤍 Oneshot

THE LIGHT OF HIDDEN FLOWERS (Stephen/OFC) 🤍🖤 Oneshot

OATH OF THE BETRAYED ONE (Bucky/OFC smut) 🖤🔥 Oneshot

A BANNER SPEECH (Toby Ziegler & Bruce Banner preslash?) 🤍 Oneshot

BET YOUR ASS (Peter Quill/f!Reader hatekiss fic) ♥️ Oneshot

These stories are on tap for posting to Tumblr someday. If you'd like to see one of them posted soon, send me an ask! Until then, you can find them on my AO3.

EXILE ALL THE LONGER (Tony/OC soulmate Endgame fix-it)

I KNOW NO OTHER WAY THAN THIS (Bruce/OC soulmate 'Sleepless in Seattle' vibes)

CLIMBING VINES ON MELANCHOLY WALLS (Steve/Nat FWB)

SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS (Tony/Steve, Howard/Darcy Lewis as Maria epic time travel angst romp (I said what I said))

#marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #tony stark x oc #tony stark #iron man x oc #iron man #stephen strange x oc #stephen strange #doctor strange x oc #doctor strange #tony stark smut #iron man smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #bruce banner x oc #tony stark & bruce banner friendship #tony stark/natasha romanoff #ironwidow

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chatvengers · 1 year

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Steve: Can we finally finish the party?

Steve: Now that we’ve spent a week in Bora Boring and found no sign of Peter Wanda Or Y/N only to find out we were tricked because they used Strange’s portal to go to THAILAND AND THEN ITALY at which point MJ proceeded to conspire with STRANGE to get us to spend an entire POINTLESS WEEK IN THE BAHAMAS with SAND IN MY ASS and then COME BACK TO THE HOUSE FOVERED IN WEBS FORKS IN THE CEILINGS WANDA PETER AND Y/N LOCKED IN THWIR ROOMS BECAYSE THE DEMONS ANSWETED THEIR CALLS

Tony: Are you done?

Pietro: The demons didn’t answer their calls…they detoured to New Orleans for some ayahuasca

Steve:

Steve: WHATBDKBLB I GO N IN BUF HDJ THNKITUBFIVMIK IKLKOLLPLLL

Tony: Did you have to do that?

Pietro: I was craving some hell

Pietro: It was way too pacific out there in Bora Bora

Clint: Are you telling me they went to Thailand, Italy and Ayahuasca?

Bucky: Is that a place?

Bucky: I thought it was cough syrup

Sam: That’s Ayurvedic, you moron

Nat: Don’t forget New Orleans…

Clint: Just ‘cause you fucked those vampire bitch boys over there doesn’t mean the rest of us need to remember…

Pepper: Guys, what the fuck

Pietro: Excuse you!

Clint: I didn’t know she could curse…

Clint: Did you, Tony?

Tony: I didn’t program her to, no

Tony: Friday, what’s up with model 63479?

Pietro: I hope that’s not the number of existing Peppers…

Pepper: Ignore him, he’s bullshitting

Pepper: Is anyone going to tell me why the house is covered in knives webs and blood?

Clint: Y/N Peter and Wanda had a little party

Tony: And now’s our turn to finish ours, so you can go

Pietro: #uninvited

Sam: #ohshit

Tony: No, he’s right, she is uninvited

Bucky: #whatthefuck

Clint: Is there a breakup happening in front of my very eyes?

Pietro:

Pietro: Are you gonna cry?

Scott: Is there something in your eye?

Thor: Tears, perhaps?

Steve: Will you all ever stop milking that?

Sam: FUCK NO, it’s one of our hits

Y/N: It’s so not

Steve: Y/N! YOU’RE ALIVE!

Pietro: Cue the rib breaking

Peter: WGO’s BREAKING Y/N’S RIBS?!

Wanda: The rib breaking HUGS

Pietro: Buzzkill

Pietro: NOOOOoooo Wanda not the Bbbeeeeez

Pietro: bvveeeeezx hmvhdbnk gikop

Strange: Nicely done

Wanda: Thank you 😈

Bucky: Someone just broke Sam’s ego…I will be forever grateful.

Steve: Will there ever come a time when they don’t fight?

Tony: That’ll be the end of times

Steve: That’s depressing

Tony: Is it?

Nat: Some of us find it quite amusing.

Steve: That’s even more depressing.

Y/N: Barnes, you’re making Steve cry

Wanda: Evil Y/N

Y/N: I prefer Neutrally Chaotic

Clint: WHAT is that rachet?

Pietro: Don’t you mean ratchet?

Wanda: Or wretched!

Vision: I’m fairly certain he means racket, for I too can hear it.

Tony: Oh come on, Barton. How come you’re the only one allowed to play theme songs really loudly?

Clint: Don’t go calling the Star Wars song theme…it’s my lifesong.

Nat: Is it now?

Clint: What Y/N is playing is a deathsong.

Peter: Whose death?

Peter:

Tony:

Tony: Does anyone know what’s wrong with Peter?

Steve: Did you forget to pay his therapist?

Tony: Is there anything I forget to pay?

Sam: My allowance

Bucky: And mine

Pietro: Mine as well

Tony: Shut up.

Pepper: Let them unwind. Death music is healing.

Tony:

Tony: Friday, find out which Pepdroid is malfunctioning.

Nat: Pep-what?

Tony:

Tony: Nothing

Clint: That’s it…I’m going to Y/N’s room.

Wanda: Take another step and I’ll kill you in your sleep.

Clint: That’s still a few hours away, I’ll be fin

Clint: gdeteuh huswgok Co oljf

Tony:

Steve:

Tony: That didn’t sound good.

Steve: It didn’t sound bad, either.

Tony:

Tony: Yeah…we should just go for some ice cream.

Steve: Good idea...death ratchet or racket, it is deafening.

Tony: When the favorite bands tour again, I’ll buy them tickets for the whole of it…crime solving will increase nationwide and our eardrums will get a reprieve…win-win.

Steve: Hell yeah. Wanna race me to the car?

Tony:

Tony: No?

Steve: Too bad.

Tony:

Bucky: WAIT! I WANNA RACE!

Tony: Too bad.

Bucky:

Sam:

Bucky: IM GONNA KILL YOU!

Sam: Gotta catch me first

Bucky: RAAAAAAH!

Y/N: This is too fucking good.

Peter: I know.

MJ: Are you all okay?

Ned: We should take them back to Bora-Bora…clearly they didn’t stay long enough.

MJ: Yeah…I’ll hit up Strange. Bring them around in an hour?

Ned: Yup.

MJ: Alright, I’ll pack my scuba gear and see you there.

Ned: Guy in the chair out.

Wanda: We’re highjacking, right?

Pietro: If we don’t, I’ll die.

Wanda: Wouldn’t be the first time

Pietro: Thanks, sis.

Wanda: I’ll get Vis to wipe our tracks.

Pietro: Will you ever let him come with us?

Wanda: no

Wanda: I don’t want to end up kidnapping a village and reenacting a sitcom…I’d much rather highjack portals and be single as a Pringle

Pietro: If you’re single, I’m dead.

Wanda: You will be 💀

Pietro: 🙄

Steve: Why’s everything so quiet?

Tony: Maybe they went to bed

Steve: What, at 11pm? Higher chance of them being dead.

Tony: Friday, where are the kids?

Pepper: They left with MJ to pay Stephen a visit.

Tony: I thought I said Friday

Pepper: Fuck off.

Tony: Right back at you.

Clint: That’s what you get for making Pepdroids.

Steve: I think they’re gone again.

Tony: Where?

Steve: Vision.

Vision: If I tell, Wanda will never marry me.

Tony: I won’t let her marry you if you don’t tell.

Steve: Ha!

Tony: Not helping, Cap.

Vision: They said they were going back to Bora-Bora, that Peter and Y/N hadn’t stayed there long enough.

Steve: Do we really have to go, Tony? For all we know, by the time we get there they’ll be in Oslo or Ibiza

Tony: Would you let your cat go unchaperoned to Norway?

Steve: They’re not cats?

Tony: Are you sure about that?

Steve:

Steve: I guess I’ll pack my bags

Tony: Good.

Steve: Great.

Tony:

Steve:

Wanda: I think it’s really going to work out this time…

Pietro: The part where we make Y/N and Peter better or the part where you make Steve and Tony make out on the beach?

Wanda: Both.

Pietro:

Pietro: 😶‍🌫️

53 notes · View notes

16woodsequ · 11 months

Note

Inspired by me reading your fic Smithsonian Interviews and Turtle Milk, do you have any headcannons/thoughts about Steve and Nats friendship?

Oh that's lovely! I really love that fic dealing with some of the gritter details of fighting as a soldier in WW2 and how that would effect Steve.

As for headcanons about Steve and Natasha's friendship, here's some I usually work with.

Natasha is one of the people Steve trusts the most

I love this analysis of their relationship. How Natasha only has to nod for Steve to trust Clint can handle fighting in Avengers. How it only takes a short talk between them for Steve to trust her after Fury told him SHIELD is compromised.

I think Steve trusts Natasha with his life. He trusted her enough to believe her when he didn't know her well in Avengers, and then that really solidified during Winter Soldier.

As a consequence, I think Steve is more likely to listen if Natasha were to make suggestions about mental health or something. I usually headcanon Steve is closed-off about those kinds of things, especially at first.

But I think he and Natasha got to a point where both were willing to admit how they were actually feeling to each other.

If you think about it, Natasha is Steve's longest friend in the 21st century.

I think Steve and Natasha can read each other very well. Both handle their emotions very similarly. They shield or bottle them up. So I think is touching that those two are able to feel comfortable and safe around the other.

#asks #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #friendship #mcu #headcanons

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the-widow-sisters · 10 months

Text

The Catching Fire of Freedom

Summary: It's the big Independence Day bash at the Avengers Compound, and Yelena, Kate, and Peter are in charge of setting off fireworks after Steve finishes his big, patriotic speech. However, disaster has a tendency to follow the three stooges, and mixing fireworks, matches, and dry grass is a recipe for only the biggest of disasters.

Word Count: 3.8k+

A/N: Happy Independence Day to all who celebrate!!!! This is one of my favorite holidays because of what it means and its vital importance to our history as a country 💖💖💖

I hope y'all enjoy! Positive comments are always welcome and encouraged! 🥰🥰🥰

“Hey, everybody! Can I have your attention?!” Steve spoke up, and everyone slowly came to a stop as they paused in their mingling and celebrating, patriotic music going in the background as it grew softer with Steve’s announcement.

Natasha nudged Yelena.

“That’s you guys’ cue,” Natasha whispered near Yelena’s ear. Yelena nodded to her.

“Alright.”

It was Independence Day, and they were holding the Avengers Independence Day celebration at the compound. Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Carol had planned the entire thing, and they had invited all of the superheroes that the Avengers knew and worked with.

People ranging from Jennifer Walters to Monica to the Wakandans had managed to make it for the party despite the Wakandans not having much of a care for American independence. They more showed up for the chance to reunite and talk with some old friends.

Currently, Steve was about to give his speech that he had planned on the temporary stage they had made for him, and it was Yelena’s time to go behind it with Peter and Kate to get ready to go and set the fireworks off at just the right time.

But before Yelena could escape with her two accomplices, Natasha caught her arm in her hand.

“Hey, don’t set them off until he’s done, okay? You remember the cue.”

“Look, I am in charge, not Kate Bishop,” Yelena informed her with some exasperation in her voice, and Natasha sighed.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Natasha resignedly answered, and Yelena placed her hand on her chest in utter offense.

Peter leaned around her, moving past Kate as he craned his neck to look at Natasha around Yelena.

“Is it time for us?” Peter questioned, and Natasha nodded, lightly pushing Yelena in the direction of the stage.

“Yeah, you guys get going,” Natasha told him.

Yelena grabbed the back of Kate’s neck as she guided her forward with her, releasing her as Kate got the message. Kate hurried along in front of her, and Peter sidled up to her, shooting a grin back to MJ where she was standing with Aunt May in the midst of the crowd of superheroes gathered.

Yelena reached for his neck and grabbed him as she had done to Kate as she redirected him to what they were currently doing.

“You can go making googly-eyes at the MJ later. Let’s head back and get ready,” Yelena told him, moving her hand so that her arm was around his shoulders. He responded with an arm around her waist, the both of them rounding the back of the stage.

“Remember, everybody, the punch has liquor in it if you need a little distraction while he’s talking!” Jennifer called to everyone, fully and completely drunk off of her rear end as she drunkenly gestured to the punch bowl not too far off on the snack table.

Yelena could hear Steve’s groan, and she could not resist a self-satisfied smirk.

He deserved it. He was doubtlessly about to bore everybody with a fifteen to twenty-minute speech that should realistically be around five minutes long. One thing was for sure about him— he liked to talk.

“How long do you think he’s going to take?” Kate questioned almost instantly, and Yelena acted as if she had asked the most ridiculous question in the world despite the fact that she had been wondering the same thing herself.

“Good grief, Katie-Bear. At least wait until we’re back here for longer than five seconds,” Yelena complained, and Kate instantly huffed.

“Don’t call me Katie… Yelena Banana.”

“You better watch yourself, Kate Bishop. Don’t call me that.”

“Then be a good little monkey,” Kate risked saying, the impulsive sarcasm coming out quicker than she could quite control. Yelena just glared at her for a long moment, wordlessly warning Kate, and Kate offered her a nervous grin, looking down at the ground anxiously.

Yelena let it go after a brief moment, deciding to pull out her phone with a grumble.

They all settled in behind the stage, Kate on her phone alongside Yelena and Peter crouched down on the grass as he shot his webshooters experimentally out into the expanse of yard. He had brought his webshooters just in case they might need them and so that he could have something to mess with while they waited for their cue to start blasting fireworks.

They would end up moving some of the fireworks when it got closer to the time to set them off.

Around five minutes passed before Yelena finally let out a loud sigh. Peter looked up at her and Kate looked away from her phone.

Yelena reached into her pocket, pulling out several firecrackers that she had strategically managed to smuggle past Natasha.

“Want to have some fun?” Yelena offered, trying to keep her voice down since there was mostly silence outside of soft music and Steve’s speech over his microphone, and Peter and Kate shared a brief glance before eagerly nodding. They both enjoyed explosives, and firecrackers were some of the most harmless yet fun noisemakers around.

“Oh, yeah!” Peter agreed.

Kate eagerly put her phone away in favor of following Yelena over a small distance from the fireworks containers.

“What do you say I do them all at the same time?”

“That’s a good idea. That way Tasha won’t be too upset if it’s just a one-time interruption,” Kate pointed out.

“And we get all the fun of a bigger bunch of crackles,” Peter acknowledged quietly, grinning like a maniac. He was a boy after Yelena’s own heart with the way that he thought about things when it came to fireworks.

Yelena waggled her eyebrows as she pulled out a match. She struck it carefully as she carefully put it to the firecrackers’ fuses, trying to hit all of their fuses with how she had lined them up.

All three of the group shared a crazy, conspiratorial laugh that was characteristic to individuals who were participating in the creation of explosions, and they jumped back.

The crackles went off in a satisfying series of pops, and the three of them grinned widely.

However, as the firecrackers went off, they only had a moment of brief gratification before Yelena suddenly spotted the flames that had started up with it and that were quickly spreading.

Tony had not watered the grass for a little while because the sprinkler system had gone out for a little while and he had been getting someone to look at it. When they had finally gotten it repaired, he still had not turned it on because he did not want to make a muddy, wet mess for the partygoers.

Therefore, this made for some extremely dry grass. Which was very flammable.

And which led to their current predicament.

Yelena instantly started furiously stomping at the flames, trying to extinguish them as they licked at the dry grass. Kate was just staring in horror alongside Peter, their smiles having quickly disappeared as soon as the flames had started up.

The fire was spreading too quickly to put it out via snuffing it with a shoe, so Yelena swiftly backed up as looked around, trying to figure out something to do for it. However, as she spotted Peter and Kate just staring at her blankly, she glared back at them as if they had sprouted two extra heads each.

“What are you standing around for?! Do something!” Yelena whisper-yelled at them, trying not to be heard over the speech.

More than anything, she did not want anyone finding out about this fire situation. They had been put in charge of the fireworks only after Yelena had done some begging, so she did not want to give them a reason to regret it forever after and never let her around explosives again outside of a mission.

So, it was up to them entirely to put out the flames. She could not even tell Carol because Carol had been on the planning committee, and she might tell Natasha.

Peter suddenly started to shoot webs on the fire, his panic spurring him into action without thinking.

However, just as he started covering the fire with webs, the flames got even larger, the web fluid apparently having been flammable.

Peter looked like he might have a heart attack on the spot, and Kate gasped as Yelena stared at the now even larger fire.

“What did you do that for?!!!” Yelena cried, and Peter shook his head swiftly.

“I forgot that I used the old fluid!”

“What’s the old fluid?!” Kate asked, completely panicked, and Peter gestured to the fire jerkily.

“The flammable kind!”

Yelena shook her head as she threw her hands up in the air.

“We’ve got to do something before somebody finds out!!!”

Kate glanced around before spotting the punch bowl on the snack table not too far off.

“I’ve got an idea!” Kate declared before promptly running for the punch bowl. She grabbed it and she took off back toward the fire. She dumped the liquid all over it, the stuff splashing up and onto the curtains around the stage.

To their utter horror, the flames simply spread where the liquid had been, and the fire started to feast on the fabric of the curtains, making their mess significantly worse than it had been before.

Now they had to worry about keeping the flames away from the fireworks and about trying to get the fire off of the curtains and out of everyone’s sight up front.

But they quickly found that they were not going to have think about that for too long because the fire was climbing up the curtains quickly and everyone definitely knew about the fire now.

“You idiot!!!! What is wrong with you?!!! Jennifer put her Hulkbuster alcohol in that!!! She announced it to everyone earlier! Really loudly!!!” Yelena whisper-yelled, the sound bordering on an actual yell.

“I’m sorry!!! I panicked!!!” Kate cried in defense.

Yelena groaned heavily, figuring that they were not going to head around the other side of the curtains until they found a way to put the fire out and keep the fireworks from going off. If Natasha and everyone saw the fire and were upset like they doubtlessly would be, they could come around the back of the stage and talk to the three of them about it.

“What are we going to do?!”

“Let me think!” Yelena interrupted, trying to get her to be quiet and quit panicking so that Yelena could actually try to think of some way to fix this and get the fire under control.

This was definitely not what they had hoped for…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“And that was what we fought for all those years ago. For the chance to be the nation we are today. To have the choice to be who we are and to live freely,” Steve continued in his long speech that he had been telling for at least fifteen minutes now.

Natasha happened to look to the side as she gazed at the snack table where Darcy and Monica were currently catching up. To her surprise, the punch bowl was mysteriously missing. Natasha furrowed her brow, lightly bumping into Carol who was standing next to her.

Carol looked away from the speech at hand, gazing at Natasha with some confusion and concern. Natasha pointed to the table and Carol followed her unspoken instructions.

“What happened to the punch bowl?” Natasha questioned, and Carol shrugged before letting out a soft laugh as she spotted Jennifer.

“Jennifer must’ve just decided to clear it out finally.”

“It’s probably for the best if she did. I’ve seen you on Hulkbuster stuff, and I don’t care to see it again,” Natasha pointed out, and Carol grinned widely at her, raising a playful eyebrow.

“What? I don’t get to have a bit of fun now and again?”

“Not since you’re the strongest one of us and I don’t think anyone could stop you from making bad decisions while under the influence unless you let us stop you,” Natasha replied with a shake of her head and Carol smirked widely.

“Hey, I’m apparently a happy drunk given my track record from last time. Which is an improvement given how I used to be back in the day.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow in silent question, and Carol offered her a playfully warning expression.

“Trust me. You don’t want to know the amount of barfights I got into back then,” Carol chuckled, and Natasha could not help the small smile that came onto her face at the thought of a pre-superpowers Carol starting bar fights with people.

Suddenly, Natasha caught sight of flames licking at the curtains and drapery on the stage. She had no idea where it had come from, and she immediately felt some amount of panic grip her. Natasha’s eyes widened a bit and just as she noticed the fire, Steve seemed to as well.

He faltered in his speech for a moment, stopping in his obviously very planned words as he took in the sight of the fire.

“Oh, wow… Well, umm… I guess Tony did promise a big surprise, so I suppose this was what he meant,” Steve somewhat nervously commented as a small interjection in his speech.

While everyone around let out a breath of relief and seemed to accept the explanation, Natasha was not overly convinced that this was meant to happen. She remembered Tony promising a big surprise, but she figured that if he was planning a fire show, he would have at least let her know about it.

She looked at Carol, wordlessly questioning her to see if she knew if this was the big surprise or not. Carol shrugged uncertainly, looking a little uneasy herself as she watched her boyfriend on the stage worriedly.

Natasha looked back at the fire, noticing that it did not look controlled enough to be a planned thing, and she instantly started to make her way through the crowd as she looked for Tony. She had to know if this was a Tony special or if it was a big mess courtesy of Yelena, Kate, and Peter.

She soon spotted him, his back to the entire spectacle taking place currently, and Natasha approached him quickly. Natasha knew that he did not love Steve’s speeches regardless of what they were about and that he would much rather be looking at whatever he was currently engrossed with on his phone. She tapped his shoulder, moving to his side, and he briefly looked up from his phone to take in who she was before making some sound of relief.

“There you are. Red, you think you can tell Sam and Bucky to ease off of that barbecue some? They’re killing us with the fumes,” he asked her, and Natasha rolled her eyes at him before leaning in a bit closer to keep anyone around from overhearing.

“Was your big surprise intended to involve fire or were you just hoping to take out Steve in a flame of blazing glory?” Natasha questioned softly, and he furrowed his brow.

“What?” he questioned, looking at her as if she had lost her mind, and she tilted her head in the direction of the fire taking place on the stage.

He followed her gesture, and his eyes went wide as his jaw slackened just a little.

“Somebody screwed the pooch bigtime on this one,” he muttered to himself, and Natasha patted his shoulder briefly.

“Figure out a way to put it out. I’ll head back there and figure out what the three of them did this time,” Natasha commented, and Tony nodded before starting to speak quickly to the AI connected to his glasses.

Natasha was going to kill them when she got her hands on them.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Yelena, we’re not getting anywhere fast!” Kate cried as she emptied her last water bottle out on the fire. It was so far not working at all, but they had the forethought to actually squirt some of the water on the grass around the fireworks containers to hopefully deter the fire from setting things off.

“Keep going!” Peter urged her, and Kate shook her head.

“I can’t! I don’t have any more water!” Kate replied, and Yelena rolled her eyes heavily, rubbing at her head.

“If you just wouldn’t have dumped the entire bowl of punch on the fire, we might not be in this mess!”

“I’m sorry, okay!” Kate apologized, now holding the punch bowl. She was hoping to go and fill it up with water to dump it on the fire.

“Wow… this definitely snowballed.”

The three of them froze in place as they looked up and stared at the origin of the voice that had just sounded off not too far from them.

To their shock, none other than Michelle Jones was standing there. She was just looking at them boredly, leaning against the wooden pillar on the opposite side of the burning curtains. Her eyes were half-lidded and she was just gazing up at the mess they had made before looking back at them.

“How long have you been standing there?” Peter stuttered a bit. MJ just shrugged effortlessly.

“Long enough to sketch you guys.” She smirked a bit to herself and reached into her bag to withdraw something. She held up her notebook on its opened pages, displaying the two pages filled with their chaos and little speech bubbles.

“Look, that’s you,” she pointed out with a small chuckle, tapping the part of the page where Peter’s goofy, panicked expression was drawn out.

“And you didn’t find it in your heart to I don’t know, HELP?!” Yelena yelled at her, her accent as thick as ever as she practically snarled at the girl. Peter flashed her a pleading glance to try to get her to take it easy just a bit on his girlfriend.

“Nah, you can’t interfere in canon events,” MJ nodded to her, drawing her lips into a thin line as she nodded to them. Yelena growled under her breath, rolling her eyes heavily, but Kate’s eyes went wide as she looked at Peter swiftly.

“The sprinklers! We can turn on the sprinklers to kill the fire!” Kate cried, and Peter nodded swiftly.

However, just as he started to turn to go and turn on the water, the supports at the top of the stage suddenly started to crack and fall just above MJ. They instantly started to fall, and he leapt for her, pulling her out of the way as the burning support beam landed on the pile of fireworks.

Yelena’s eyes went wide, and on the other side of the stage, she caught sight of Natasha coming around the side, her gaze stern and suddenly horrified as she raised her voice.

“What is happening back here—”

However, Yelena knew they did not have long to worry about Natasha since they were about to have ignited fireworks going off. As Peter rushed away from MJ and safety to knock Natasha to the ground so she would not get in the line of fire, Yelena leapt for Kate, the both of them falling to the ground with Yelena squishing her.

The fireworks started blasting all over, some shooting into the sky and others blasting into the stage and across the yard.

Yelena closed her eyes tightly, making sure her hand was on the back of Kate’s head as she tried to keep her head forced downward and out of the reach of all the fireworks going off. Kate raised her head just enough under Yelena’s grasp to look at all of the explosions, and the both of them wordlessly watched as the insanity went off.

“Hey, maybe we didn’t totally screw up,” Kate raised her voice just a little as Yelena shifted so that she was not completely crushing Kate��s head to the ground. Yelena glanced down at her briefly before huffing softly.

“If you do not count the enormous fire burning down the stage right now,” Yelena replied, but there was a certain fondness in her voice that softened the sarcasm.

After what felt like an eternity, the fireworks stopped going off, and there were soon the deafening cheers of all of the superheroes across the yard, loud patriotic music playing in the background.

However, just as Yelena started to get off of Kate, the sprinklers started going off and there were several autonomous Iron Man suits putting out the fire, and both Yelena and Kate gasped as they got sprayed directly in the face. They quickly got up, and they could hear the shrieking of the party-goers as the cold water hit them.

Quite a few of them were drunk thanks to Jen, so the cold water was a special shock to them.

Yelena and Kate hurried over to where MJ, Peter, and Natasha were gathered, and Yelena slowed her pace as she met Natasha’s eyes, realizing that the older woman was looking at her as if she might kill her. Kate practically shrunk under the heat of Natasha’s gaze, and Yelena dared to laugh and risk a grin.

“You wanted us to light things up,” Yelena pointed out, with a shrug as the water dripped off of her. She was doing her best to offer her best winning grin and try to win Natasha over despite the fact that she knew she was going to get a tongue-lashing anyways.

However, Kate was not helping with how she was just looking like a scolded puppy that had been caught red handed. Peter was glancing between Natasha and his two friends, starting to try to step away with MJ in tow.

Before Natasha could speak, they were interrupted.

“Kid, stop right there,” Tony’s voice sternly sounded off, and they watched as Peter froze in place with MJ’s hand in his own. Peter instantly went a little pale as he stared at his hero.

Tony moved his fingers in a beckoning gesture, calling Peter over to him. Peter looked between MJ and Tony, and it was clear that he did not want to embarrass himself in front of MJ. Tony rolled his eyes at him.

“Look, kid, you’re already going to have to deal with the big lecture from your aunt with Juliet in the car with you, so you might as well suck up the pride, hot shot.”

Peter instantly turned redder than the shade of pale white he had become, and MJ just huffed, ruffling his hair as she let him walk ahead of her and accompany Tony as they had their discussion before he handed him over to May.

As they watched them walk away, Natasha looked back at the two she had to deal with, an irritation definitive in her countenance.

Knowing better but trying for one last-ditch attempt to win her over, Yelena smiled.

“Maybe in the spirit of Independence Day, you could let us off the hook?” Yelena offered up winningly, and Kate glanced at her uncertainly, her apologetic puppy-dog eyes primarily focused on the older woman before them.

Natasha sighed, rubbing her head before pointing at them.

“We are going to have a serious talk.”

They both trailed after her defeatedly and without a word as they headed inside for what was doubtlessly going to be a serious lecture.

Well… It was worth a try anyway.

10 notes · View notes

lifeontop · 2 years

Text

At peace?

Hey everyone! This is a little different from what I usually post and hasn’t been proof-read or edited but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!

TW: none? lmk if I need to add anything pls

You had been feeling off lately. Like the world had suddenly turned gray and you just didn’t know how to turn the colors back on. It was as if suddenly your world had stopped spinning and slowed down, leaving you to live your days in eternal monotony. It was as if everything and everyone around you had lost its meaning. The real world seemed so far away, blocked by a veil of sadness that you couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried. And covered by that veil, you were slowly unraveling. Sleepless nights had turned your eyes into sunken holes. The lack of water and food had your ribs sticking out of your skin more than usual. Your mind had slowly descended into a chaotic state that impeded you from fulfilling even the simplest tasks.

And yet, the one question you couldn’t find an answer to was why. Why were you feeling like this? Had the world been turning grey at the corner of your eyes for a while, and you just hadn’t noticed? Or had it taken over suddenly? What had triggered it? You couldn’t remember. And somehow, you didn’t care. Day after day, you had gotten used to it. The cold feeling was so familiar. Like going back to a place you had known all your life. It lulled you right into a state of numbness that felt as natural to you as the oxygen filling your lungs.

As the days passed, the mission reports you were supposed to be filing remained untouched on your desk. Every day, you would sit down, turn on your laptop, log into the system and stare at the screen. The hours ticked by, your fingertips flying over the keyboard keys, your eyes growing tired and your head hanging low. And yet, the pile of reports never shrunk. Reading had always been like a second nature to you, it usually required no effort. Now, your eyes dragged themselves along the lines, your brain incapable of comprehending the letters and words that it was seeing, as if they were from an ancient language that possessed characters you had never seen before.

You hadn’t talked to anybody about it. It’s not that you didn’t want to. You had tried, but all you ever managed to say was that you were tired from work. It was a valid excuse. Afterall, you had been working on the dissolution of the original Avengers team for months. The decision to retire had been made on a random evening when Steve had mentioned retiring and starting a new career. And somehow, member after member, everyone had agreed, and they had concluded that they would all retire all together. Everyone except you and the new generation that is. While the team was leaving for good, you had decided to stick around for a little longer, you weren’t quite done with the Avengers yet.

It had taken a lot of assessing, planning and trials to get to where you were now. The plan was made, most of the team had already moved out of the compound and was settling into their new routines. While some had decided to settle close to the city, others had chosen to go back to their homes across the country. You had chosen the latter. At least for the duration of your break and mostly because your family needed you.

Today, you were going back to the compound. The trip had been planned for quite some time as you still had to pack up some things and sort out some paperwork there.

The wind was ruffling your hair, the speedometer showing that you had by far surpassed the speed limit, but you were too deep in thought to notice. The closer you got to the compound, the heavier your bones seemed to become. As you parked your bike in front of the building and took off your helmet, exposing your disheveled hair, your eyes wandered to the familiar structure. It still looked the same. The walls were still painted in the same graphite color. The mat in front of the door still looked run-down from all the feet that had stepped on it. The bulletproof windows reflected the path that you had just driven on. Despite its flaws, some part of you felt at home.

You were making your way towards the door, ready to get your hand scanned and input your secret pin when Jarvis’ familiar robotic voice rung through the air. “Welcome back Y/N, is there anything I can do for you?” A small smile grazed your lips at the AI’s question. How many times had you heard that same exact question before when coming back from a mission? You had missed it. “Hi Jarvis, is anyone here today?” you asked, while opening the doors. “No, nobody is here. The house has been empty for quite some time, I fear. Anything else I can do for you?” “No, thank you, Jarvis.”

Without waiting for the customary “You are welcome, Y/N”, you directed your steps to the command center. It looked unused. The silence felt too loud. Like it wasn’t supposed to be there, a foreign sound that had replaced the familiar cacophony of your teammates joking and scheming with each other. There were no overlapping conversations and commands being screamed across the room. No mission was displayed on the big screens that were built into the walls. Even the hologram table in the middle of the room was turned off.

Without even thinking, your hands had turned on the command system. The room came alive with a slow rumble, lights flickering all around as the screens turned on. If you concentrated hard enough, you could fool yourself into thinking this was just another morning. It wasn’t unusual for you to be the first one to show up. After all, your friends loved to stay up until the early morning hours and rarely showed themselves before midday. But the reality was that the compound was empty. You were surrounded by a different silence, one that didn’t match the usual wiring sound of Starks robots cleaning the building and the sound of the stairs creaking as people snuck into the kitchen for an early morning snack.

While your brain was running itself crazy analyzing the emptiness of the compound, a thought suddenly materialized in your mind. This was how it was going to be from now. The team had moved out. You were one of the few left. There would be no more whispering and laughing in the command center. No more grumpy “good mornings” and coffee cups collecting on the table. The sharp whistle of the kettle would be replaced by silence. There would be no more silent conversations with Steve while the others bickered. Natasha wouldn’t appear out of thin air anymore, commanding everyone’s attention. And Thor wouldn’t be there every day to make sarcastic comments and make everyone laugh.

And just like that your excitement about being “home” disappeared and your mood plummeted. This was all there would be from now on. The silence and you. The both of you, alone in the huge compound. As the realization settled in, your back slid against the wall, leaving you to settle on the cold floor. Your mind started replaying all the memories you had made with the team in that very building. They were much more than just your colleagues; they were your friends. You had lived your best moments and survived the worst with them. You had survived the Sokovia Accords that had threatened to split the team forever. You had fought through the endless missions that required the Avenger’s help, again and again. And been there for each other when one of you inevitably broke down. But you had also taken day trips together. You had spent entire nights laughing with them and teasing each other relentlessly. You had built a life together. And now it was gone.

The vibration of your phone suddenly ripped you from your daydreams. Wanda.

“Hey there, is there anything I can do to help you with those reports? I know it’s a lot, tell me if I can help you in any way.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. You had already told her countless times that you were fine on your own, that you would get the job done and that you wanted her to rest and enjoy her newfound free time. But she was stubborn like that. Somehow, it warmed your heart and made the darkness a little lighter.

Shaking your head, you dragged your limbs off the floor and towards the kitchen. Here too, the silence greeted you like a stab right through the heart. This was the spot where the team had spent most time together. It was also the best spot to exchange gossip and hear about the team’s adventures. After all, is there anything better than sharing food and news with the people you love? You could see Sam shaking his head “no” in answer and an unbidden smile appeared on your lips. This was also the very same spot in which your friends had told you that you couldn’t possibly do everything for everyone. And that you needed to start putting yourself first. Wise words. It had been a very much needed wake-up call.

Settling on a chair, you realized just how much you had changed since you had first entered these walls. Gone was the scared person who was so ashamed of herself that they were afraid to speak or reveal anything even remotely private. In their place stood a (more or less) confident person who had learned to open up. Or at least was trying their best to do so. Frowning, you tried to place yourself into your old self and remember your first day at the compound. You found that you couldn’t. That person didn’t seem like you anymore. This place really had changed you. And it wasn’t only the things you had experienced or the work you had put in that had made you into who you were today. You had learned something from each of your team members. Thor had taught you to stand up for yourself and be unapologetic about you wanted. Wanda had shown you that loving yourself was not a burden, in fact, it was a necessity and nothing to be ashamed of. Natasha, as unlikely as it seemed, taught you to open up. Or well, forced you and then taught you. Sam had reminded you that fighting for what you want is always a good idea, that you were not obligated to let go of your dreams just because someone deemed them unrealistic. And Steve? He had taught you that being quiet and reserved didn’t mean that you couldn’t have a place in the group. And that being part of the group did not mean that you couldn’t allow yourself time to breathe away from it.

Most of all, they had taught you that you could open up, that you could let yourself break and that they would be there for you. In a world that had taught you to hide yourself behind a stone mask and never let anyone see your weakness, they had reminded you of your softer nature. They had reminded you of how to feel things instead of locking them away. For the first time in years, you had felt human. And it had hurt. But it had also felt incredibly empowering. Like finding a piece of yourself you had been missing all along but hadn’t known how to find. They had reminded you of what love, real love, not conditional one, really felt like. The more you let yourself think, the more the darkness seemed to weigh on you. When had you stopped talking to them? When had you stopped randomly checking in? You knew the answer. But knowledge and acceptance were two very different things. You let your head drop into your hands.

“You know we are always here for you”. It’s Thor’s voice, ringing in your head. “I always have time for you”. Steve. “When you feel like talking, I’m here” Wanda. “Hey, you’ve been very quiet lately, are you okay?” Natasha. “Do you want to talk about what’s going on?” Sam. They had been there all along. You had never really been alone. You had just refused to acknowledge it and had reverted to your old ways of shutting everyone out. And the why was easy. You were scared. Scared of how lonely you felt when they weren’t around. How much you depended on them. Scared that one day those messages would turn into simple “happy new year’s” messages that you never responded to. Abandonment issues. That was your damn problem. The thought of not seeing them every day, not having them with you at the compound scared you shitless and, in your mind, it was better to detach yourself from them before they could abandon you and leave you broken. It wouldn’t be the first time someone did that. Somewhere deep down, you knew it was an irrational fear. They were not like that. And yet, you were still isolating yourself.

Determined, you spoke up: “Jarvis, where is Natasha? Shouldn’t she be in the city?” The answer came quick: “Ms. Romanoff is currently at work. Would you like me to call her for you?” “No, thanks Jarvis. I think I’ll drop by myself”. And with that, you were off. You had other obligations later in the afternoon but seeing Nat was worth a detour.

Once again speeding down the highway towards the city, you wondered whether it really was a good idea to just show up at Nat’s workplace. It would most likely bother her. Or was that only in your head? Well, you were already on the way, no turning back now. You quickly dropped by the grocery shop to get her a fresh drink and dragged your feet to the coffee shop. Anxiety was gripping your bones, leaving cold sweat to drip down your back. Nervously, you stood in line to get a coffee. Somehow, you realized, your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest, despite the anxiety coursing through your veins, you felt safe.

Natasha hadn’t seen you yet. She looked a little tired and you were happy you had at least thought of getting her a little reinforcement. Was it even appropriate to just drop by while she was working? You didn’t have time to think about it because she spotted you in that exact second. Nat’s face changed from surprise to confusion and to some kind of happy in a matter of seconds. Her face was hidden behind a mask but if the little twinkle in her eyes was any indication, coming to see her had been the right thing to do. One shy wave, little glances and it was already your turn to order. “Hey sunshine, thought I’d surprise you” you croaked out.15 minutes later you were sitting in the corner of the shop, an iced coffee in front of you. You had pulled out your laptop with the intention to get some work done but to be completely honest, you had barely managed to turn it on before your attention had shifted. Your eyes were wandering across the shop, taking in the constant flow of customers, and finally settling on your friend. Automatically, you recalled her reaction and a watery smile materialized on your face. The light going off in her dark eyes. The honest smile and the little kick of energy that had suddenly been ignited in Nat were everything you had missed. There had been no hug and although you would have love nothing more than one of Nat’s warm, tight hugs, the warmth and feeling of being loved that was spreading in your chest was everything you had needed to feel better. Not so surprisingly, the cold loneliness and fear that had been suffocating you for weeks slowly melted away from your body. Breathing felt easier, like you had been freed of a huge weight. The world seemed to shine a little brighter and even the future looked a little less glum. You were at peace.

Somehow, that single little smile and the little twinkle in Nat’s eyes, were enough for you to know that you’d be okay. Because you were finally not alone in the world anymore. You had found your family. And maybe, just maybe, when the next wave of sadness inevitably came, you could just let them know how you were feeling. And you wouldn’t been alone in your fight against it anymore.

As you were thinking about all of this and trying to inconspicuously wipe away the tears that were flowing down your cheeks, a funny thought stumbled into your mind. Maybe happy ever after really did exist, just not like in the way fairytales described. Maybe being happy meant having the freedom to fully be yourself and to be able to share yourself with people who loved you unconditionally.

#avengers #fanfiction #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #sam wilson #tony stark #friendship #friends #marvel imagine #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #nat x reader #natasha x y/n

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blackwidow-daughter · 1 year

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Well, posting here my first fiction in English! It's about Romanogers, and focused on Natasha's mind, her past, feelings, thoughts, and how she changes throughout the whole history! Hope you enjoy! Follows the synopsis:

The Spider On Her Web

Natasha Romanoff has always lived up to the Black Widow codename; her lies were woven with the most perfect mastery, and each enactment was perfect, entangling the victims like the soft and invisible web of a spider, until the final suffocation came, without knowing where, with a lethal “sting”. She has always mastered her farces, she has always known her own web well. But even the most effective hunter makes mistakes, and hers has a name: Steve Rogers. Since the soldier and his honesty entered the woman's life, her habits as a lone hunter have been put in check, and the role she wove for herself for decades begins to tear. A struggle against herself, during which Romanoff needs to face the truth, while certainties she thought she had fall away along with the world she created for herself within SHIELD: sometimes, letting yourself be captured is the only way to release.

Is love really childish? Or a solid bond with people who, one day unknown, would become the family the infamous assassin never thought she could possess? For the first time, her web is not empty, but will that make her stronger, or will it destroy her?

#natasha romanov #romanogers #captain america #steve rogers #black widow #marvel #mcu natasha romanoff #mcu avengers #fanfiction #natasha x steve #tony stark #clint barton #clint nat friendship #clintasha friendship #avengers family

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sunnysideprincess · 2 years

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No but Steve and Nat being petty best friends. Like Nat's painting her nails and Steve just flops down next to her, messing up the last coat on purpose with a shit eating grin on his face. Then he opens up with: "You know, it's kinda weird. You and Pepper" and Nat ends him with the good old: "Not any weirder than you banging your ex's godson."

#steve and natasha #underrated friendship #bffs #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #avengers #mcu #stony #stevetony #peppernat #marvel mcu #pepper potts #tony stark

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navybrat817 · 9 months

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Oh, this smirk!

The Rejects

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, mentioned Steve Rogers x Female Reader, mentioned Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Bucky address the elephant in the room.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Flirting, friends with benefits (not Bucky x Reader), light angst, tension, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

A/N: This was meant to be something else completely, but the muse did what she wanted. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You jealous?”

Looking up from the Scrabble board, you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at Bucky’s smug expression. “Jealous of what exactly?” you asked, downing the rest of your drink and not flinching at the sting.

“Come on. You know what,” he answered, crossing his arms as he leaned on the table. “Or do I need to say it?”

“Please, enlighten me,” you said as you placed a square on the board. You knew exactly what he was referring to, but you’d play his game. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”

“Steve and Natasha sleeping together,” he answered.

Big boy actually said it.

You allowed the eyeroll to happen when he smirked. They left the two of you alone almost an hour ago and it was a feat that you went that long without acknowledging it. “No, I’m not. Why would I be?”

Bucky pointed at you with his beer bottle. “Because you used to hook up with Steve.”

“And you used to sleep with Natasha,” you said without skipping a beat. That wiped the smirk off his face. “So sorry you got stuck playing Scrabble with a reject like me.”

You didn’t have super soldier hearing the way he did, but you heard his teeth grind when he selected his next piece. “You’re not a reject,” he said above a whisper.

Neither of you spoke as you kept playing. After a bad mission months ago, you slept with Steve. It wasn’t a big deal. Adrenaline was high and he gave you the release you needed. Expecting it to be a one time thing, it surprised you when he shoved you against a wall days later. You fell into a “friends with benefits” arrangement with him after that.

While he treated you well enough, you both maintained that it wouldn’t go beyond sex. From what Natasha told you, she had a similar arrangement with Bucky. It worked for your needs.

You were content.

Until you noticed how Steve and Natasha’s gazes lingered on each other after briefings. How easily they fell in step beside each other despite their sometimes opposing views. She trusted the Captain, which wasn’t easy for the former spy. Steve respected her and that said something. You accepted that they needed each other and quietly removed yourself from the equation.

Bucky did the same.

“You know what? I am jealous,” you admitted, the game forgotten at that point. “But not because they’re sleeping together.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched, like he didn’t quite believe you. “Then why are you?”

Glancing down the hall before you looked back at Bucky, you sighed. “As happy as I am for them, I'm a little sad for myself. Because they found something in each other that no one has found with me,” you told him, narrowing your eyes when his slightly widened. “What?” you asked. If the former Winter Soldier made fun of you or laughed, you wouldn’t hesitate to smack him because you weren’t afraid of him.

“Nothing,” he said, the index finger on his vibranium hand tapping the table in a fast motion. “I just understand how you feel.”

Shame flooded you for thinking he’d poke fun at your vulnerability. He wasn’t a bad guy. Far from it. In fact, Steve never got jealous or insecure when you talked to Bucky and Natasha hadn’t either. They encouraged the two of you to become friends. Looking back, it was easy to think they supported the friendship to phase you two out. But you knew that wasn’t the case.

They weren’t cruel.

What would’ve happened if I slept with Bucky instead of Steve? Is it wrong that I’ve thought about that more than once?

“So, why are a couple of 'rejects' like us who are not jealous of our former lovers sitting here playing board games instead of going out and looking for ‘the one’?” you teased.

“Because I was too chicken to ask you out tonight, even after I got the okay from Steve.”

What?

You blinked once. Twice. “Your best friend, who has been inside me, is cool with you asking me out?”

He winced at your choice of words. “Well, when you put it like that. Yeah?” he replied, before he straightened up, confidence filling those pretty blue eyes of his. “I don’t give a fuck that you slept with Steve. I’m asking you out.”

Your smile turned a little warmer and you reigned your claws in. “You want to take me on a date?” you asked, your heart swelling when he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "If this is just to fill a void, I don't think it's a good idea."

If Bucky needed that, you understood. But could you do that again? No. Not with him.

"I'm asking because I want to, doll. You're a badass and I like your company," he said. That was a big deal since Bucky only seemed to like a handful of people. "And if you’ll let me, I’ll ruin you.”

Fuck.

“I don’t know,” you said in a singsong voice, stretching and purposely sticking your chest out to draw his gaze to your breasts. “We’ve both done the whole friends with benefits thing before and-”

He reached across the table to take your hand. “You wouldn’t be my friend. You’d be my girl.”

Your stomach did a funny flip, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. The word “yes” was on the tip of your tongue. Because you had a right to be happy. All of you did.

I slept with Steve. Natasha slept with Bucky. Steve is sleeping with Natasha. The next logical step is sleeping with Bucky, right? Who knew math could be fun?

“What would Nat think?” you asked. Though you were certain she had no feelings for Bucky beyond friendship, you didn’t want her to be uncomfortable just because you were fine with her and Steve.

Your phone buzzed a half a minute later with a text from the former Black Widow herself.

“Go for it. He'll be good to you and you deserve it.”

Bucky chuckled when you looked back down the hall. “Steve and his fucking hearing,” you muttered before you threw your head back. “Stop listening to our conversation! That’s rude!”

“Sorry!” Steve yelled back.

You smiled at Bucky, the atmosphere lighter even with the tension. “Okay. You beat me in Scrabble, you pick where we go for our first date. I win, I get to pick and no complaints.”

His eyes lit up as your heart raced. “Deal,” he said, the smirk slowly appearing on his face again. “But the loser has to play the next game naked.”

“Game on, Barnes.”

So, there we go. 😂 I hope you lovelies liked it! More of these two with A Couple of Cuties. Love and thanks for reading. 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x female!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #vonalyn

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anika-ann · 5 months

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Back and Forth - masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x agent! Inhuman!reader

Type: enemies-ish to lovers series

Summary: Calling yourself an Avenger would be overstatement, even if you have been joining them on missions quite frequently lately. Calling them your friends would be an overstatement also. Calling you and Steve Rogers friends, now that would be an insult to the entity of friendship – though unlike him, you have enough self-awareness to admit that he isn't the only one to blame for that. Most of the time anyway.

However, the Avengers need your abilities and so you and Steve tolerate each other – or at least you’re trying, your back and forth visibly annoying your colleagues and exhausting you both.

And then you’re thrown into a situation where mere tolerance isn’t an option. That should end well, shouldn’t it?

Characters to appear: Steve Rogers, ‘reader’, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, mentions of Phil Coulson, Daisy Johnson and few others

Setting: slight AU 'cause everyone lives thank you very much, no Civil War or further, references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D without a fixed timeline

Warnings: besides canon-typical violence, this series deals with topics which might be trigerring for some people - please, read with caution and resposibility

Playlist 🎵 (NEW)

STORYLINE:

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3.1 // Part 3.2

Part 4.1 // Part 4.2

Part 5

Part 6.1 // Part 6.2

Part 7

Epilogue

Number of parts/chapters is estimated. Did I add one extra already? Yeah, but shhh

Dividers by firefly-graphics, moodboard by me - and created for the vibes, for it does not necessarily reflect the reader's appearance.

Taglist open 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #agent reader #shield agent reader #inhuman reader #avenger reader #steve rogers #captain america #back and forth #back and forth masterlist #anika ann

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ltbarnes · 4 months

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‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

#stark u #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes angst #sam wilson x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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