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randomshyperson · 1 month

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Baby, I'm Yours - Wanda Maximoff Oneshosts

Summary: The Avengers gain a new member, and Wanda Maximoff mistakenly assumes she has gained a rival instead of a friend. Or the one where Wanda has a crush that she doesn't know how to deal with. [Requested]

Warnings: really fluff, enemies to lovers, some kissing and a lot of teasing, avengers being a family, emo!Wanda and her first gay crush. | Words: 4.564k

A/N-> This was requested a while ago and I used it as practice for a winter soldier!reader idea that I had. Idk if I would ever make a series out of this idea, but it was fun to write this reader.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Seven months after she joined the Avengers, someone else did too.

Unlike her, Sam was extremely excited by the news, he woke up early and somehow managed to convince Vision to join him in the welcome.

Wanda would have skipped the interaction - She only went to get breakfast and intended to spend the rest of the training-free day filled with interactions between the team, hiding in her room and watching old TV shows. But as soon as she noticed the little witch sneaking around the kitchen trying to go unnoticed by Sam's excited theories about who the new avenger would be, Natasha whistled and called out to her.

"Good morning, Maximoff. Do you intend to welcome our new colleague in pajamas?" The widow asked, hiding a teasing smile behind a cup of coffee.

The question already implied what Wanda had feared, and made her sigh. "I didn't know I was expected to take part in the welcome."

Nat grimaced softly - she seemed to be finding the whole thing very amusing.

"What an idea, Maximoff, of course you are! We were all there waiting for you when it was your turn."

She forced a smile, resisting the urge to snap back something bratty like "Thor wasn't". Deciding she had no reason to argue with Natasha, she busied herself with preparing some toast and pouring herself some tea.

When Sam suddenly tapped on the counter, everyone looked at him.

"I got it!" he declared excitedly. "I bet the new guy is Spider-kid!"

Nat frowned. "Who?" and then chuckled to the Falcon's obvious disappointment.

"Come on, the colorful vigilante who keeps throwing webs around? How come you've never heard of him?"

Assuming a thoughtful expression for a moment, Nat flipped through the newspapers on the counter before clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

"Ah, I think Tony's got his eye on that one." She says. "But, no, Wilson. The new recruit isn't the spider. And there's no point in giving me that look, as I won't spoil the surprise."

It looked like the subject was ending - at least that Sam was going to give up. It wasn't long before the rest of the team showed up for coffee, and Wanda mumbled a few good mornings back quickly before making her way to her own room, to change into something more presentable than fluffy pajamas.

But on the way to the bedroom, from one of the glass entrance doors, Steve Rogers appeared and he was accompanied.

"[...] Come on, we're early, they must still be having breakfast." Commented the older Avenger, busy taking off his coat, it took him a moment to notice that Wanda was in the hallway. She was staring, probably. "Oh, good morning, Wanda. I want you to meet someone."

But Wanda already knew you, straight from the television. And from the Shield's files of potential Avenger-level threats.

So maybe that's why when Steve said your name, patted you on the shoulder and you held out your hand for Wanda to shake, she just stared.

"Okay, not a handshaker." You mumbled awkwardly, lowering your arm. "You're Wanda Maximoff, mind reader and former enemy, right? I didn't expect the shock, given the circumstances."

"Hey, easy." Steve grumbled at your aggressiveness, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. Wanda narrowed her eyes at you, but you didn't look too intimidated, your posture relaxed and your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket. "That's in the past. We're all friends now. Aren't we, Wanda?"

With some resistance, she eventually forced a smile and tried to relax her posture. She sighed and nodded. "Of course, Steve. It's nice to meet you apart from the news, Miss Barnes. Should we wait for your brother to join us or does he still have Interpol on his back?"

You chuckle dryly. "Listen here, you-"

"Okay, enough." Steve interrupts, pulling you by the shoulders and giving Wanda a disapproving look. He also whispers that he'll have a talk with her later, but the witch turns away, dragging her feet back into the bedroom while you and Rogers head in the opposite direction.

On the way to the kitchen, you mutter: "And here I thought superheroes were polite."

The soldier chuckles briefly. "You tried to blow up the White House, you can understand the hesitation. Now come on, we've got the rest of the team to shock."

It had taken her hours to see you again, not that anyone had asked her opinion, but Steve had put you in the room next to hers on the justification that it would be good for the two of you to have someone close in age to pass the time.

Wanda grimaced and reminded him that you were about 150 years old. Steve chuckled.

"Technically, yes. But she spent almost all that time on ice, so she was only really around for less than 20 years. Can you please try to be friendly? You have more in common than you might think."

Wanda begrudgingly agreed to be the one to give you a tour of the tower. And so she could also discover that she was apparently the only Avenger who was hesitant about your presence on the team.

She knew your list of skills off the top of her head, but still wondered if you could read what she was thinking when you added; "Your hesitation is totally fine, Maximoff. It must be hard to share the podium as the team's coolest person, but you get used to it."

She chuckled awkwardly at the compliment mixed with teasing at the end of the tour. You offered her a farewell wink, thanking her for the favor before muttering that you needed a shower after several hours of driving. You disappeared to your own room before Wanda could come to a coherent conclusion as to why her heart was racing inside her chest.

Perhaps she was having a panic attack?

Wanda turned on her heels and made her way to Bruce's lab. A quick check-up would clarify things.

While assuring her that she didn't have a chronic arrhythmia, Bruce also - under the influence of Natasha and Tony - diagnosed her with something very common to teenage patients: a crush.

"Did you consider Miss Maximoff, that perhaps, you may have just liked her?"

She did not take this very well.

"What? That's ridiculous! I'm not even gay!" Bruce looked up from the normal results of the cardiology test she had demanded and offered her a small smile.

"All right, Miss Maximoff, maybe I made a mistake. You're probably just anxious about your return to action next week." The doctor suggested and Wanda stood up from the lab chair with an impatient huff.

"That's definitely it." She assured him, not wasting any more time on Bruce and his absurd theories after thanking him for the tests.

After such an unfortunate situation, Wanda began to avoid you. It was the most viable solution when someone caused her to have irregular heartbeats, sweat or tremors. Perhaps she was allergic to you.

Obviously, she should keep her distance.

But it seems that the team had other ideas.

"Barnes and Maximoff, you're together. No gloves, come on." Natasha arrived at the gym announcing, an iPad with the training schedule in hand. Wanda, who had spent a good few weeks with the successful plan of interactions limited to greetings, nearly had a stroke. At least her partner, Sam, was keen enough to hold off his punch before it got to her. Wanda hadn't even heard his comment about her getting distracted in a fight and her feet were moving towards the mat, her eyes quick to notice your breathless figure removing the fighting gloves you had been using on a practice dummy for the last few minutes.

"Let's see if training with Wilson has taught you anything, Maximoff." You commented with a smile that made her stomach jump. Something about your sweaty, panting appearance was making her dizzy.

The rest of the team spread out on the edges of the mat, interested to see the exercise, and it was only Natasha who came up to you to lead the whole thing.

"Start with the basics, I want to see Wanda's reaction time." The widow explained, squeezing the two of you on the shoulder. Before turning away completely, she raised a finger in warning to the younger brunette. "And no magic tricks, Maximoff. Even if you're losing."

Wanda smiled, rolling her eyes. Only once had she done that to Natasha and it seemed the widow would never let that story die.

Before the whistle blew, you looked her in the eye. "I'll take it easy on you, little witch." You whispered teasingly, and Wanda felt something burn in her lower belly. She also decided that she had to win because she had to get that smirk off her face.

It was an easier task than it looked - and it was all down to the fact that if there was one thing Hydra had taught her well, it was to exploit weaknesses.

And yours was to care about her. Every hesitation in your movements, your awareness of the super-soldier strength that could hurt her, made it very easy for Wanda to exploit it, slip away, and dodge all your blows. And there was something else too; a soft choke in your breathing every time she got too close, tangled up between one move and the next. The way your ears turned three shades redder when she managed to knock you over and landed on your chest.

"Wow, Maximoff really is kicking your ass." taunted Sam from the corner of the room, grinning at Barton and Nat.

You didn't seem to mind, licking your lips as you took a second look at the position Wanda now found herself in; sitting on your hips.

She did, however, give you an annoyed look. "Don't hold back, I can take it."

"I'm sure you can, little witch." You retorted ironically, leaning yourself fully back onto the mat.

Wanda grunted angrily, then grabbed the collar of your blouse. "Fight for real! I don't need you to take it easy, I can handle it."

The disarming was so quick that she barely had time to blink - one second she was on your hips, the next her back was pressed to the mat with her hands pinned to the side of her head.

Your body on top of hers, pressing her to the floor, made her choke.

For a moment, as your dilated eyes descend to her mouth, you also seem to forget what you were doing, and the audience around you.

But suddenly, you let go; a dry, humorless laugh escaping you as you stand up. And you turn to Nat as if you hadn't just dropped Wanda on the mat.

After ignoring you for weeks, she thinks she deserves it.

"Her fight is decent, so I think we had enough."

Nat raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, are you the one deciding on the training now, Barnes?"

You smile briefly before retorting; "Come on, everyone knows she's not punching her way out of fights when she can use the energy tricks. It's a waste of time making the girl train like a soldier."

Natasha doesn't seem to agree. She follows you towards the locker room, arguing how important it is to eliminate the team's vulnerabilities, while the rest scatter around the gym, some giving up practicing to get something to eat and others going back to wrestling.

Wanda regrets sitting on the mat because in that position she can watch you at the locker room door, tugging at your training shirt, exposing a strong muscular back and a lot of skin because of the sports top that doesn't do much good to hide it.

Natasha continues to talk to you without taking any notice of the gesture, so Wanda is sure she's the problem. Her stupid brain and heart are clearly forgetting that she can't handle a crush right now.

She doesn't even have Pietro anymore, who, as soon as he'd finished tormenting her about it, would give her advice. Because he's always had a natural talent for this kind of thing, while the last time Wanda tried to flirt with a boy, it sounded like a threat.

She can't do this on her own. And with that conclusion, she tries to get over it. Maybe Google has some tips, or maybe, the walking computer that hangs around the tower can help.

"Vis?"

The synthesized man took his eyes off the book in his lap when Wanda called out to him, a few days after the training session where, since being pressed into a mat by you, Wanda found herself unable to think of anything else.

"Hello, Wanda." He greeted her gently, closing the pages and waiting for her to approach.

"I need your help with something."

"Oh, what would that be?"

Wanda pressed her lips together, her hands restless in front of her body. "Would you be able to tell me the most efficient way to... get over someone?" Vision frowned in surprise, and Wanda sighed. "Someone we shouldn't like. Definitely inappropriate."

Vis opens her mouth, still in shock at the whole thing, but it's someone else who speaks;

"What's definitely inappropriate?" Tony asks, and Wanda thanks the gods he didn't hear the first part.

"N-nothing!" Rebuts the witch quickly, the color of her cheeks probably giving her away. Stark looks at her suspiciously, then at Vis.

"Okay, what are you two love birds talking about?" The Vision would have blushed if he could. He gets visibly embarrassed, smiling shyly.

That's great as if Wanda needed one more extra thing to stress her out.

She can barely contain her grimace at the nickname, but Tony doesn't bother; Vision is at least quick to change the subject, and surprises Wanda with his ability to lie very well.

"We were just commenting on how inappropriate General Ross's accusations were at the last meeting." And that's enough to distract Stark.

Wanda practically flees the scene after that. For a long moment, she had even forgotten about the tension that had been swirling around the Avengers over the last few days, precisely because your absence from the compound made her - not that she would admit it - miss you terribly. And all she could think about was inevitably you, busy on missions with Steve in search of your brother James.

With your presence increasingly rare in the Compound, Wanda hoped that the crush would go away, but every time she happened to bump into you between missions, the feelings came back with an overwhelming force, like two lovers the war kept apart. It was frustrating, to say the least. Especially since Wanda was nothing more than a teammate. Hardly a friend.

When Lagos happened, and it was the worst thing that could possibly occur, at least Wanda had something else to think about. And this time, Ross's visit to the Compound was more than inappropriate - it was final.

Accords and fights between the team led to an unbearable situation. With half of her colleagues out for meetings with the United Nations, Wanda was still grounded at the Compound, waiting for news.

She didn't expect you to be sneaking around.

"You shouldn’t be here." That's the first thing she says as she fully opens the bedroom door you left ajar. Wanda could lie about being your fault that she found you, when in fact she had become an expert at sensing your aura over the last few weeks, the ability to just know when you were around, perfecting itself every time you two met.

You chuckle, without diverting your attention from the task of filling your backpack with as many things as you can squeeze inside. Wanda had the impression that many of the items you came to collect in your room were old presents; everything the others had gotten you over the last few holidays. Things that were precious.

"I'm aware. I won't be long." You retort, folding some socks together to put them away in the closet.

Wanda should call Vis - he's working as a sort of watchman for the tower or something. And he was supposed to notify Tony of your presence. But instead, she closes the door.

Twisting her fingers in anxiety, she asks:

"Where are you going to run off to?"

Offering her a quick glance as you returned to your suitcase to put away some underwear that made Wanda look away, you replied; "I can't tell you that, little witch."

Wanda almost smiled at the nickname. Instead, she took a desperate step forward.

"Would you take me with you?"

Standing back, you chuckle. "Funny."

"I wasn't joking."

You leave the St. Petersburg snow globe you got as a present from Natasha on the dresser and turn with a frown to the witch behind you. "Maximoff, come on-"

"I'm serious." She insists. "Stark grounded me. Like a fucking child. “ She then chuckles sadly. “Or worse, a problem he didn't want to deal with. And I know I fucked up in Lagos-"

"Don't say that, Lagos wasn't your fault." You interrupt her with a certain determination. "You need to remember that, alright?"

Wanda smiles softly at your reassurance, looking away because her face is suddenly very warm. You sigh then grab just one more change of clothes before zipping up your suitcase.

"It's not because of the company, Wanda." You mutter suddenly, with the backpack on your shoulders. She looks at you with confusion, but you don't meet her gaze. "I just don't think it's right, everything that's happening. And I don't think we should all be fighting with each other. But that's what's going to happen from now on. If you come with me, Steve probably expects you to be choosing sides. And I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."

Her heart skips a beat, but Wanda takes a chance;

"Anyone... or me?"

You're taken aback, but you don't lose your poise. You sighed deeply before approaching her without haste, without any hint of what you were going to do either. Wanda opens her mouth again, to apologize for being so difficult, but you muffle the statement with a kiss.

It's the first time she's kissed another girl if that isn't obvious. She melts, panting and so very shy; it's a good thing that you hold her waist, while your other hand keeps your face close by grabbing her chin gently. Wanda's lungs scream for air after a moment, but she refuses to pull away from a sensation as good as kissing you.

Something like a whimper of need escapes her when you break the act, or maybe it's the way you give her lower lip a gentle tug with your teeth that leaves her trembling, ready to beg for more.

"Sorry if that was sudden." It's the first thing you say, your voice is hoarse, and as affected as your breathing. You smile, your thumb wiping away some of the mess left by Wanda's gloss. "But I think it took us long enough."

She babbles like a fish, unable to form a coherent thought for a whole moment. You wait patiently, your hands touching her shoulders, sliding down her arms as a way of calming her. Wanda has dreamed so much of feeling you that the touch meant to ease her nerves has quite the opposite effect; every inch of skin you touch tingles.

"H-how... did you know?" she asks, and you give a short laugh.

"I didn't." You retort gently. "Not for sure, at least. Not until two seconds ago when you asked to come with me. I had this... feeling. And this tension. Every time we walked into the same room, every time we were alone. I just felt…” You can put it into words exactly, so you just take a deep breath and smile at her. “I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, that the way I felt was making me imagine things but then you came in here. Sneak out into my room and ask if you could leave this fancy tower to run away with me to fight. I just had to be sure."

Wanda bites back a shy smile, feeling the heat spreading from her chest to her face and eras, and knowing for a fact that it's only going to get worse because of the way you're looking at her.

She tries to get some ground again.

"And are you..." A sigh, as one of your hands settles on her waist. "Sure?"

You hum thoughtfully before breaking the distance, kissing her in a different way than before. It's more intense and hungrier. Your tongue invades her mouth, exploring everywhere and your hands prevent her from pulling away when the oxygen is off. Every needy sound that escapes her is muffled against into lips.

Wanda tentatively follows the rhythm, one of her hands wrapping in your hair. Your backpack falls to the ground and you hold her tighter now, pulling her into you. It's a significant difference between a super-soldier's body and her own, and just the quick memory of you pressing her against the mat makes her moan into your tongue.

The sound makes you lose your mind - Your hands become more determined, the kiss desperate. Wanda struggles for air, exposing the collarbone that keeps you busy as she tries to catch her breath. You bite down on her skin and she arches against you, her hands becoming bold enough to scratch your back and pull up your blouse.

But you break into a husky chuckle, slowing the kiss and pulling away to remind her; "We have to go." Between one touch and the next, "We don't have time."

She needs a whole moment to force her brain to work, and even after you're no longer touching her, and she's sneaking off to her own room to prepare a suitcase, she's still shaking.

When you meet again, running hand in hand with suitcases back to the garage, Wanda is surprised to realize that she was foolish to be afraid of something as good as this.

That is, of course, until reality hits again.

Wanda has never seen you in action as a Winter Soldier before. She saw it through television, Shield files, and testimonies about deserters captured by the Avengers.

But she was never there.

The Avengers split up and fought each other, and your brother fled with Steve Rogers. She thought you were safe on the plane with them, she made sure you got on - but she didn't see you climb off.

Wanda accepted being captured, she accepted being drugged as a security measure. And throughout the confusion that was the transportation of the Avengers in custody to the Raft, she thought she was hallucinating the whole way there. The masked figure attacking the soldiers and opening the cells was a projection of the sedative in her mind.

She only knew what had really happened, had been able to remember, when you both were already in another country as fugitives from the United Nations.

You were by her side the whole time. You held her on your lap after getting rid of the straitjacket that had trapped her and lay down next to her when there was finally a secure roof over your heads.

Wanda was exhausted. She had lost the only thing she had left; her freedom. There was no longer a home, a team, a brother. She was drugged and trapped like an animal by people she considered family.

She started crying, and you woke up. You didn't say a word or ask her to stop. You just held her and let her sob into your chest until she fell asleep again, this time from exhaustion rather than through the influence of chemicals.

When what was left of the team moved on the following day, to another location to avoid suspicion as Natasha clarify it, Wanda got the impression that maybe it was you who needed her to hold you until you went to sleep now.

Bucky didn't come back, and neither of you knew what had happened to him or Steve.

Wanda let you cry all you wanted.

But then finally, everyone who had fought for Steve was back together. Even Clint and Scott, who would probably make deals for their families, to try to be with them, and would have to leave soon. For a moment, everyone was there and you found out that your brother was going to stay in Wakanda to be free again.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a good moment. Steve got food for everyone, you had something that resembled a Christmas, or at least an end-of-year celebration.

We're alive and safe. We're together. Steve was a man of words.

Even if they were sharing a safe house that was too small for such a group. Even if half the world was after them.

The team fell asleep between sleeping bags and sofas, and you left the trailer to get some air. Wanda went after you without thinking much about it.

"It's cold, witchy." You commented as soon as she was close enough, even though you opened your arms for her to wrap hers around you.

Your back was against Nat's truck, and Wanda pressed a little closer to hide her face in your collarbone.

"Where are you going to run off to?" She questions into your skin.

You sigh, one hand caressing her back. "I don't know." You confess quietly. "I wouldn't get to Wakanda with this, but I wasn't feeling very well in there. Having a Christmas meal without him."

Wanda adjusts her face to look at you. "Bucky needs to heal first."

You nod, giving her a sad smile. "I know, but Steve told me they put him back on ice. Until they found out what they were going to do with him. Just the fact that he's there, freezing again... " You look away, sniffling softly. "It reminds me of the past, our time as Winter Soldiers. And It makes me very sad.” You explain softly before sighing. “I know there's nothing we can do to help him now, but it's all so frustrating. I just needed to get out of there for a moment."

Wanda absorbs your words for a moment until she returns to her previous position and smiles as she feels you relax and put your arms around her.

She murmurs; "It's a shame we can't go out there. Natasha said this place has beautiful spots to visit."

You snort slightly. "Actually, we could drive somewhere further away. Far from the city." You comment. "We can watch the Aurora Borealis."

Wanda bites her lip for a moment, considering your invitation, until she adds; "Just the two of us?"

You chuckle. "Unless you want to wake up the team..."

"No, I wasn't complaining!" She clarifies quickly, and you start laughing again.

She taps you gently on the shoulder to make you stop. "Idiot."

"Your idiot." You hit back with a smirk, and Wanda's heart stops beating for a moment. There's a pause, between exchanging intense glances as you bring your hands to her face, adjusting her hair out of the way. "Don't forget, witchy."

She swallows dryly, her voice hoarse when she speaks: "I won't." She whispers back and you smile before pressing your lips into hers.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x reader

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incorrectquotesmcu · 2 years

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Sam: So he (Bucky) was your best friend growing up?

Steve: Yes.

Sam: Were there no other kids in Brooklyn?

#source: big bang theory #sam wilson #sam wilson incorrect quotes #falcon #captain america #bucky barnes #bucky barnes incorrect quotes #winter soldier #steve rogers #steve rogers incorrect quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel #avengers #avengers incorrect quotes

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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year

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The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part I)

Summary: Six months after Steve had the super-soldier serum removed and he retired from superhero work to live a quiet life with (Y/N) and their infant daughter, Sam decides to give up the shield and (Y/N) finds herself caught between her best friend and her husband’s less-than-pleased best friend.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there and welcome to the 5-part series centering around TFATWS! This is one of my favorite MCU shows and when I first watched it, I knew that I wanted to write about what (Y/N) and Steve were up to during that time and I wanted to delve further into Sam and (Y/N)’s friendship. Thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part I) April 2024 Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, Washington D.C. (Previous One-Shot)

“You okay, (Y/L/N)? You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“Well, you know that feeling you get when you visit your old high school after you’ve graduated and you realize that everything’s changed? That’s sort of how I feel right now, and it’s a shockingly strange and unpleasant feeling.”

Beside (Y/N), Rhodey chuckled but allowed her to wrap her hand around his crooked arm as they strode through the Air and Space Museum’s hangar towards the large platform at its end. “I see what you mean. A lot of change happened for you right here in D.C., and I know that not all those memories are much fun to re-live…truth be told, I’m a little surprised that you accepted the Smithsonian’s invitation at all.”

“I wanted to be here for Sam,” She shrugged and looked up at the banner emblazoned with the image of her husband’s face. “Because God knows that today won’t be easy for him.”

Rhodes nodded and after giving their surroundings a quick assessment, he looked back at her and lowered his voice. “Did you know he was gonna give up the shield?”

Pursing her lips, (Y/N) twisted her wedding ring around her finger and carefully considered her words before replying, “He called us last week and while he didn’t explicitly say what he’d be doing, we both suspected that he was giving up the shield. Steve understood, of course, I’m just not sure that he really understood, if you know what I mean; he’s always been very progressive and forward-thinking for his age and it’s one of the many, many things I love about him, but sometimes he can be a little naïve to how the modern world really operates.” Her eyes flicked over to the covered display case beside the empty podium and her brow furrowed at the sight. “Something about all this doesn’t feel right, Rhodey.”

“Good, you feel it too,” The colonel straightened one of the many ribbons fastened onto the left breast of his dress uniform and snorted. “I’d be surprised if that shield makes it a full week before someone decides to pull it out for a new Captain America. That being said, I can’t exactly fault the guy for making this call; I’m one of the highest-decorated men in the Air Force, but that still doesn’t stop me from experiencing that pain-in-the-ass imposter syndrome from time to time.” By then, the hangar began to fill with more attendees, journalists and photographers, so Rhodes thoughtfully angled them both so that she was partially hidden from their prying eyes. “So, is that husband of yours having lots of fun on the moon?”

(Y/N) laughed. “He liked that conspiracy theory when he first heard it but now that it’s caught on with more mainstream media outlets, he really can’t get enough of it. Once a space nerd, always a space nerd, I suppose.”

“Steve’s doing good, though, right? He’s not having any difficulty adjusting to civilian life?”

“I initially thought he might, but no.” Reaching into her clutch, she withdrew her cell phone and began scrolling through her photos while she talked. “He hasn’t had a single second thought about giving up the serum and retiring from superhero life; he’s gotten back into his art – mostly charcoal and pencil drawings, but he’s been dabbling a little in watercolor painting – and he’s really enjoying all the time he has with Carina now.”

Rhodes smiled as she showed him a photograph of her de-serumed husband, her daughter and their senior German Shepard playing in the backyard of their quaint New England home; seven-month old Carina was seated on Steve’s narrow shoulders and her tiny hands gripped onto his blonde locks while he held her chubby legs, his laughing face scrunched up as Indy licked the side of his face. “Well, tell him I’m happy for him. If anyone deserves a quiet life, it’s him.”

A cacophony of shutter clicks drew their attention to the side entrance and they watched as Senator Smith entered the hangar alongside several government officials, military personnel and Sam, carefully holding the vibranium shield in his arms and averting his gaze away from the wall of photographers elbowing one another to capture his image. While Sam ascended the platform’s steps, the older senator moved to join them and shook Rhodes’ hand. “It’s good to see you again, Colonel.” He reached for (Y/N)’s hand and gave it a noticeably-gentler shake along with a sympathetic smile. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss, Mrs. (Y/L/N). If there’s anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to call my office and ask.”

(Y/N) forced herself to return his smile and to not wipe her hand on the skirt of her dress as she replied, “Thank you, Senator, but I’m just happy to be here supporting Sam and the Smithsonian’s refurbished exhibit.”

Much to her discomfort, the senator led them both towards the front of the crowd and her jaw clenched as the journalists and photographers started to take notice of her presence; the flashes of their cameras and their hushed speculating brought back memories of the time she spent trapped under a restricting studio contract and the dark days following the tragedy in Lagos, but she fought back the unpleasant feelings by focusing on her best friend as he leaned the shield against the podium’s base and adjusted the microphone before beginning his speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here with us today to celebrate the grand re-opening of the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum’s permanent Captain America exhibit. Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful…and he mastered posing stoically.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes as everyone who’d never once met Steve Rogers chuckled good-humoredly and Rhodes smirked at her reaction. “The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes, ones suited for the times we’re in. Symbols are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning, and this thing…” The hangar echoed with shutter clicks as Sam picked up the red, white and blue shield and stared down at it. “I don’t know if there’s ever been a greater symbol. But it’s more about the man who propped it up, and he’s gone.” The photographers began turning their cameras towards (Y/N) and Rhodes to capture their reactions, but they merely continued to diligently stare ahead and refused to look away from Sam. “So today, we honor Steve’s legacy but also, we look to the future. Thank you, Captain America, but this belongs to you.”

Applause filled the hangar as Sam handed the shield over to a Smithsonian worker wearing white cotton gloves, and (Y/N) swallowed the unexpected lump in her throat as the shield her husband carried into countless battles and the shield she believed her best friend was meant to carry was carefully sealed in a display case. She ignored the ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach and wrapped her arms around Sam in a tight hug when he eventually made his way through the throng of journalists and photographers. “Hey there, Birdbrain.”

“Hey, Booksmart.” Sam’s arms held her close and he gave her a half-smile when he pulled away. “I’m glad you decided to come.” He bumped his fist against Rhodes’. “You too, man.”

Before the colonel could reply, Senator Smith joined their group and reached for Sam’s hand. “Thanks again for coming forward with the shield, Sam. It was the right decision.”

(Y/N) watched the senator walk away with narrowed eyes and Rhodes sighed as he nudged a solemn-looking Sam. “Take a walk?”

The three of them were admitted into the refurbished Captain America exhibit and while they walked amongst the artifacts and displays chronicling Steve’s time as the Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan, they talked about their families and what it was like readjusting to normal life after the Battle of Earth and their defeat of Thanos.

“Yeah, I’ve been at home with my sister and my nephews; man, when I left, they were babies and when I come back, they’re little men.” (Y/N) smiled as Sam talked about AJ and Cass; she’d gotten close to Sarah and the Wilson boys during the Snap and paid them several visits throughout the five-year ordeal, knowing that Sam wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for her if their roles were reversed. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Well, you should bring ‘em out to D.C. sometime, I’ll teach ‘em how to fly…you know, I mean, the right way.”

Sam scoffed and Rhodes chuckled as (Y/N) led them into the next room, squaring her shoulders as she prepared to broach the topic that they’d all been conscientiously avoiding. “Crazy to think that nobody’s going to be carrying the shield…”

“Hey, we went for seventy years without anybody carrying it when Steve was on ice, so I think we’ll be all right.”

Rhodes gave him a pointed look. “That was a different time, Sam.” They walked past Steve’s old motorcycle and artifacts belonging to the Howling Commandos in heavy silence, and it wasn’t until they entered the next room that the colonel spoke up. “So, you’re gonna make me ask?” They stopped by a display entitled ‘A Final Mission’ and he gestured towards Steve’s photograph. “Why didn’t you take up the mantle?”

Sighing, Sam tucked his hands into his pockets and looked down at his dress shoes. “When Steve first told me about the shield, the first words I said were ‘it feels like it belongs to someone else.’ That someone else is Steve.”

(Y/N) exchanged a knowing look with Rhodes and they followed Sam into a space filled with screens projecting World War II propaganda posters of Captain America intermixed with old photographs from his time in the field. She knew better than to try and argue with Sam about his decision – it was his decision, after all – but there was a spark of hope igniting within her that perhaps Rhodes could talk some sense into him. “The world’s a crazy place right now. People are…well, nobody’s stable. Allies are now enemies, alliances are all torn apart…the world’s broken. Everybody’s just looking for somebody to fix it.” Sam hummed thoughtfully as they walked into the last room, which displayed a mannequin dressed in Steve’s World War II tactical uniform and the glass case containing the shield; just as it had that fateful day she’d run into Steve visiting his own exhibit, seeing his possessions on display for the world to see felt wrong to her and she had to force herself not to reach out and touch the uniform that protected her husband from harm throughout one of the most devastating wars in their country’s history. “It’s a new day, brother.” He patted Sam’s arm and smiled. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Stay safe out there, Rhodey.” (Y/N) gave the colonel a hug and watched him walk through of the exhibit’s exit. “You know, he’s really started growing on me. He’s still annoying as hell, of course, but he’s slowly but surely becoming tolerable.”

Her best friend smiled humorlessly and nodded towards the shield. “So, now it’s your turn to try and guilt-trip me about giving up the shield?”

“If I wanted to do that, then I would’ve done it last week when you called to tell us what you were planning on doing.” With one last look at the shield, (Y/N) turned her back to it and took hold of one of Sam’s hands. “You are your own person, Sam Wilson. No one can tell you what to feel or how to think, and they sure as hell can’t tell you what to do. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, then Steve and I will be there for you no matter what. You read me, Birdbrain?”

Sam’s features relaxed as he squeezed her hand and gave her a firm nod. “Loud and clear, Booksmart.” They continued to hold hands as they walked out of the exhibit and through the lobby of the Air and Space Museum. “You heading back up to Maine today?”

“Yep. I’ve got a few hours to kill before my flight out of La Guardia, so I’m going to stop by our house in Brooklyn to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Well, if you happen to run into that Bionic Man with the staring problem while you’re there, tell him he needs to step into the twenty-first century and learn how to answer calls and texts.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As much as (Y/N) loved the peaceful life they’d been living in Maine, she couldn’t deny that she’d missed the unique atmosphere of Brooklyn. She checked on their house and after locking up, she drove her rental car the short distance from Windsor Terrace to Red Hook and walked through the neighborhood with a smile on her face; she stopped by a small coffee shop and carried her drink tray into the nearby apartment building, keeping her head down as she made her way up to the third floor on the off-chance she’d be recognized and tapping the toe of her Converse sneaker against the furthest door down the hall.

“Who is it?”

(Y/N) smiled to herself as she replied, “The doll who just carried hot chocolate and muffins up three flights of stairs for your geriatric ass.”

The door opened a moment later to reveal Bucky, a curious and almost hesitant expression on his face as his blue eyes scanned the hallway before settling on her. “A little far from home, aren’t you?”

“Well, I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d drop by to visit a good friend.” She lifted the drink tray and paper bag and continued in a comically-enticing voice, “I even brought some hot chocolate and chocolate-chip muffins for him…”

Bucky’s lips curved into a reluctant smile as he stepped aside and let her enter his apartment. “Did Romanoff teach you how to identify people’s weaknesses like that, or is it just a God-given talent?”

“Mostly God-given, but I may have picked up a few pointers from her; she also taught me how to throw knives.” (Y/N) set the food and drinks down on the kitchen counter and hummed along to the record spinning on his turntable. “Duke Ellington. He’s right up there with Benny Goodman and Glenn Miller for me, and he’s definitely the best jazz pianist to come out of the 40’s.”

The super-soldier made an impressed noise. “I’m glad that someone else around here has the same appreciation for good music; although, your appreciation might have a little something to do with the fact that you married a geriatric ass.” He grinned as she laughed at his teasing and started pulling their muffins out of the bag. “So, what brings you back to Brooklyn?”

“I attended the Captain America exhibit re-opening in D.C. this morning and since my flight back to Maine isn’t for a couple more hours, I decided to check on our house in Windsor Terrace and stop by to see how you’re doing.” Bucky took a sip of his hot chocolate and scowled while he peeled the wrapper off the muffin, his displeasure practically rolling off of him; he was more than annoyed when she’d called the week before to tell him what Sam decided to do with the shield, and it seemed as though his attitude hadn’t improved much since. “It’s a shame you decided not to go; I would’ve gotten a real kick out of watching the museum guides try and stop you from breaking into display cases and taking your old stuff back.”

The super-soldier didn’t acknowledge her attempt to lighten the mood as he picked his muffin apart with his vibranium hand. “So, what does Steve think of all this? About Sam just throwing away the shield?”

(Y/N) sat down on the chair beside the kitchen counter and nibbled on her own muffin before answering, “He was a little surprised but he trusts Sam to make his own decisions, the same as I do.” Bucky let out a snort of derision and she pursed her lips to keep her annoyance in check. “Why the sudden care in what Steve thinks, anyhow? You’ve barely spoken to him in the past six months and when you have, it’s never been for any longer than a few minutes. He doesn’t say anything out loud because he’s too proud, but he feels like you’re purposefully pushing him away.”

“I…my therapist said that I need to figure things out on my own right now…”

“Bullshit. I’m in therapy too, Bucky, and I’ve learned that nurturing friendships is an important component to healing from trauma; friendships provide support, and there’s no such thing as too much support.” Her heart clenched as he stubbornly stared down at the kitchen counter; moving as slowly as she could, she lifted one of her hands and gently rested it atop his flesh one, taking it as a good sign that he didn’t flinch away from her touch. “Your life hasn’t been easy and it sure as hell won’t get easier any time soon, but you’re not alone anymore. The fact that you let me into your apartment is insurmountable proof that you’re at least trying, and all I’m asking is that you keep on trying.” After a long moment, Bucky nodded and (Y/N) gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “Carina loves that stuffed wolf you sent her.”

A smile slowly tugged at the corner of the super-soldier’s lips as he glanced up at her. “She does?”

“Mm-hmm, she never puts it down.” (Y/N) pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her photos until she found the photograph she’d been searching for; Carina was fast asleep in her crib and her little fist was wrapped around the fluffy tail of a stuffed white wolf. “You should’ve seen the meltdown she had when we took it away to be washed; I’d never cussed out a washing machine or a dryer for taking too long quite like that before.”

Bucky took another sip of his drink and shrugged. “Well, stubbornness does run on both sides of the family.”

(Y/N) glared in mock-outrage while the super-soldier snickered and devoured the rest of his muffin; she took the opportunity to glance around the rest of his apartment, noting the lack of furniture and the makeshift bed on the floor in front of the television. “So, what do you get up to outside of your court-mandated therapy?”

“I’ve, um…I’ve got a friend. His name’s Yori and we get sushi for lunch on Wednesdays. I also…well, I sorta had a date last night; it didn’t go very well, but considering it’s been about eighty years since the last one…?” He sighed and rubbed a weary hand over his eyes before continuing. “I really am trying, doll, it’s just…the only calm I’ve known in the past century was in Wakanda, and it’s hard not to think that it might’ve been some sort of cosmic fluke. Now that I’m free to do whatever I want with my own life, I don’t even know where to begin.”

Although she could sense that there was something else he was holding back from her, (Y/N) nodded and gave him an encouraging smile. “It seems to me like you’re getting off to a good start. You know, if you’re not comfortable talking to Steve or Yori or anyone else about all this, then maybe you should consider talking to Sam?” Predictably, Bucky grumbled under his breath at the mention of Sam’s name and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I really don’t get why you two don’t get along. Sam’s a great friend and while he might not say it out loud, I know that he’s worried about you. At least promise that you’ll think about it?”

“…I suppose, but only ‘cause you asked so nicely.” The super-soldier shook his head and arched a brow at her. “Seriously, how the hell does that punk win any arguments with you when he’s got those (Y/E/C) eyes staring back at him?”

(Y/N) shrugged and gave him an innocent smile. “Must be my own special superpower.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m starting to feel like this was all just an elaborate excuse to see me dolled up…”

Across the room, Steve’s azure eyes remained trained on his canvas but crinkled as he attempted to hide his smile. “Hey, I can’t help the ideas that pop into my head whenever you’re around, sunshine. I’m an artist, remember?”

“Mm-hmm, but you might want to work on your professionalism, because I’m pretty sure that artists aren’t supposed to ogle their models while they work,” (Y/N) playfully teased, making sure to keep as still as possible and not change the pose Steve had placed her in nearly three hours before; what she wore wasn’t exactly risqué – a black turtleneck sweater, an auburn high-waisted skirt, opaque black tights and heeled ebony ankle boots – but the outfit paired with her styled hair, expertly-applied makeup and the slightly provocative way she was seated on her office’s desk seemed to be enough to rile her husband up. His attraction to her was rivaled only by his commitment to his art, but it was only a matter of time before one gave way to the other. “If we don’t have anything scheduled for this weekend, I was thinking that we could take a drive down to Essex and hit up the antique shops, maybe grab some lobster rolls for lunch?”

“Sounds good to me…” With a final flourish of his paintbrush, Steve leaned away from the canvas to examine his work and gave it an approving nod. “Okay, I’ve gotten about as much done as I can with this lighting, so I’ll have to work on the details some more tomorrow morning.” He set his brush and palette down before crossing the room and helping her sit straight as her muscles ached in protest. “Thank you again for posing for me, baby. Is there anything I could do to repay the favor?”

(Y/N) pretended to think his offer over before giving him a mischievous grin. “There might be one or two things you could do, but I would be remiss to ask them of such a professional artist as you, sweetheart.”

“Screw professionalism.”

She laughed as Steve’s hands cupped her face and his lips captured hers in a heated kiss that she was quick to return; her arms moved to loop around his neck and as she pulled him closer, one of his hands traveled down to rest on the curve of her waist. He moaned when her lips trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck but just as his fingers began to fiddle with her skirt’s zipper, a loud wail emanated from the baby monitor on the desk. “Poor baby, that new tooth must really be bothering her…” (Y/N) sighed in sympathy and gave Steve a chaste kiss on the lips before hopping down from the desk. “I’ll go grab the teething ring from the freezer.”

“Okay, I’ll go get her.” Steve snatched up the baby monitor and followed her out of her office, stopping at Carina’s nursery and crooning as he entered, “It’s okay, angel, I’m here now…”

After retrieving the teething ring from the freezer, (Y/N) kissed Carina’s tears away and gave her the plastic device to gum, heading into the living room to put an episode of Kitchen Nightmares on; for some strange reason, Gordon Ramsay and his infamous yelling was the only thing that seemed to help calm the seven-month old down. She switched the television on but just as she prepared to change the channel, she realized that Senator Smith was in the middle of giving a press conference on WHiH and a cold chill went down her spine as she listened to his speech.

“Unrest in the wake of recent events has left us vulnerable. Every day, Americans feel it. While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us.”

“That son of a bitch,” (Y/N) breathed, eyes wide in disbelief as she watched the scene unfolding on the television screen before her. “Rhodey was right…”

“(Y/N)? Sunshine, what’s wro-?”

“So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America!”

Covering her open mouth with her hand, a horrified (Y/N) watched as Senator Smith stepped away from the podium and a Caucasian man dressed in a red, white and blue uniform walked out onto the building’s steps. He waved at the crowd of journalists and photographers eager to document the breaking news, and strapped to his left arm was the vibranium shield that Sam had given up. (Y/N) looked over to see Steve standing in the doorway with Carina and her stuffed white wolf in his arms, a mixture of shock, anger and betrayal in his azure eyes as he watched the new Captain America smile and wave for the cameras.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I had so much fun working (Y/N) and Steve into this series, and I can’t wait for you guys to read what’s coming next! Updates might be a bit more sporadic than usual but I’m hoping for a chapter every two weeks (still haven’t decided which works best with my schedule and mental health), so make sure to stay tuned for more!

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part II)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

#stumblin' in #steve rogers x reader #post serum steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #post serum steve rogers #sam wilson #falcon #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #james rhodes #war machine #john walker #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america and the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe

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knucklescum · 2 years

Text

Sleepy Time Tea - Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Pairing: Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier x fem!Reader (tfatws era)

Word Count: 2011

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, honestly just a self indulgent fic about drinking weird tea with Bucky

(note: I stole the reader’s powers from Vic Neuman from The Boys, just an fyi lol)

It was safe to say that you were pretty weird (from an outsider’s perspective, anyway). You had abnormal interests, strange hobbies and even stranger morals. So you were relatively surprised when The Falcon himself begged for you to join his ‘team’ to stop the Flag Smashers.

“Sam told me you’ve been having trouble sleeping?” you ask, perched on the worktop beside Bucky as he poured himself a coffee.

“S’none of your business,” he mutters, turning his back to you and shuffling over to the sofa.

“I’m here to help, you know,” you start, sliding off of the counter and joining him on the other end of the sofa, pulling your legs to your chest. “I know Sam asked me here to, you know, pop some heads,” you pause, catching his eye in bemusement.

“I could do what you do. It’s called a bullet to the head,” a dry laugh escapes his lips, shaking his head as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Exploding someone’s skull with your mind is a bit more fun though, right?” you laugh in response. “There’s no subtle way to shoot someone in the head. Think of me as your own, personal gun. With a super silencer.”

“What was your point?” Bucky breathes, finally turning his head to face you, an annoyed expression on his face.

“Right, yeah,” you laugh. “Don’t judge me-”

“I can’t promise anything,” he cuts you off.

“Don’t judge me. I have some herbal stuff-”

“I’m not getting stoned with you, (y/n).”

“Let me fucking finish!” you exclaim, launching a cushion at his face, although he easily catches it and rests it on his lap.

He gestures his hand for you to continue, attempting to hide the small smirk on his face.

“I’m really into tea.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, his face drops and he gets up from the sofa, throwing the cushion back to you.

“I don’t want your stupid fucking sleepy time tea.”

You look down as the door slams - understandable.

-------------

The evening’s mission had gone, honestly, beyond wrong.

Sam and Bucky had been recognised almost immediately, leaving you and Zemo to hunt down the man you were looking for.

In theory, it should have been simple. But Zemo was adamant for you to show him your powers which, above all else, was just distracting.

“Not now, Zemo.” you had said, turning to him with a stern expression on your face. “We find the guy, he talks, I blow his head up. Sound good?”

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled.

That should have been the end of it.

Zemo persisted.

You’d caught sight of your target, taking hold of Zemo’s wrist and moving through the crowd, your eyes never leaving the man you were here to find.

“Ooh, (y/n), what about this guy? He’s being a bit, how would you say, pervy?”

“Oh my god, Zemo.” you stopped in your tracks and turned to him, your body filled with rage. “Shut the fuck up!”

Before he could even begin to think of a response, you were interrupted by screams.

Screams coming from the direction of your target

“Oh, fuck.” you breathed.

---------------

“You head popped our target?” Sam exclaims. “What the fuck happened?”

Your eyes move from Sam to Zemo, shooting daggers at his smug face.

“What? We were going to kill him anyway, yes?” he smiles.

“He had crucial information. We needed him alive.” Sam exhales, an unimpressed expression on his face.

Bucky throws himself on to the sofa, a large sigh escaping his mouth as he covers his face with his hands.

“You two are the worst.” he mutters.

“Why couldn’t you just let (y/n) do her thing?” Sam asks, raising his arms in exasperation.

“I did!”

“No,” he pauses. “No. She was going to make him talk. You didn’t need to piss her off.”

Zemo glances at you, a smirk on his face as he takes a step towards you.

“Can you blame me? Surely any man would want to witness such a gift in person.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t pop your head.” you say, falling onto the sofa behind you.

Your whole body aches from exhaustion and you want nothing more than your bed or, in this case, a random bed in your current hideout.

You sit in silence as Sam and Zemo argue (or rather, Sam berates Zemo), occasionally casting your eyes to Bucky’s unmoving figure on the opposite end of the couch.

After a while, the shouting stops and Sam storms out of the apartment, with Zemo skulking off to his own bedroom.

Both you and Bucky remain in your respective spots, and you’re convinced that you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you every so often.

It’s only when you eventually sit up that you finally catch his gaze.

“Give me some of your stupid tea.”

Shocked, you jump out of your seat, bringing your hands together.

“Really?” you say, careful to control your volume to avoid disturbing Zemo.

Bucky stands up, suddenly towering over you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Just don’t poison me.”

A small squeal of excitement escapes your lips as you scurry over to the kitchenette, Bucky in tow.

You swing one of the cupboard doors open, reaching to the back for your tub of assorted herbs and loose leaf teas.

“I’m telling you now, Bucky,” you start, turning to him, holding the box out to him. “This is probably one of the only things I’m actually passionate about.”

“Tea?” he questions, slowly taking the plastic tub from your hands. “You’re a loser. No offence.”

“None taken,” you shrug. “Only because you’re right.”

You rummage through the cupboards in search of any kind of tea strainer, instead finding an infuser teapot.

“Aha!” you exclaim as you pull the teapot out of the cupboard. “This is perfect.”

Bucky pulls open the tub before gently placing it on the countertop beside you.

“Thanks,” you say in an almost whisper before you begin digging through your collection of herbs.

Bucky takes his spot beside you, leaning his back against the counter’s edge, silently watching you carefully take spoonfuls of each ingredient. His eyes never leave you, moving from your hands to your face.

“Do you want to help?” you ask, a gentle smile on your face.

He quickly nods, turning to face the worktop alongside you.

“Okay,” you hum. “Could you find the valerian root for me? It’s labelled, it’ll be in one of those brown pouches.”

“Gotcha,” he says before beginning his search.

Bucky finds the packet only a minute later, gently unsealing the top to get a look.

Before you can warn him, the root’s aroma fills his nostrils, a look of complete and utter disgust spreading across his face.

“I’m not ingesting that,” Bucky states, holding the small bag as far away from his face as possible. “It smells like literal belly button.”

You open your mouth in feign offence, giving his shoulder a gentle, backhanded slap.

“Hey!” he exclaims, matching your energy. “You smell it if it’s really not that bad!”

Before you can act in defence, he forces the pouch into your face, the smell taking over all of your senses.

You snatch the bag from his hand, careful not to let any of the root escape as you place it back on the side.

The two of you remain in a comfortable silence as you gently place the remainder of the ingredients into the strainer.

“Do you want to go and sit down?” you ask as you pour the freshly boiled water into the teapot. “It needs a little time to brew.”

Bucky silently agrees, nodding his head before crossing the room towards the sofa.

Turning back to the teapot, you hear Bucky collapse onto the couch as you stir the liquid, all kinds of colours leaking into the water.

While you wait, you pull two large mugs from the cupboard. You hook your finger through the handles before taking hold of the teapot into your other hand, carefully carrying everything over to the coffee table in front of Bucky.

“I could have helped carry that, you know,” he says as you place the tea set down on the surface.

“It’s no problem, Bucky,” you smile.

He leans closer to the coffee table, gently lifting a mug and pulling it closer to his face, the steam soothing his tired skin.

“I picked out my favourites for you,” you start. “These ones always put me to sleep,” you laugh.

He smiles at you for you to continue, taking a small smell of the tea as he does so.

“So it’s valerian root, chamomile, lavender and vervain.” you say, a look of concentration on your face as you make sure to remember every ingredient. “I’d usually add mugwort for some funky dreams but I, uh, I’ve heard about your dreams. Best to avoid that.”

“Good call,” he laughs.

Returning back to your previous quiet, the two of you begin to drink your tea.

You can’t help but watch his face, looking out for any sort of reaction to the drink.

Eventually, his face softens and he gradually takes more and more sips until the mug is completely empty. You’re not long behind him, tilting your mug to get every last drop before placing it back onto the coffee table.

“That,” he starts, putting his mug beside yours. “That wasn’t awful.”

You look at him with a smile, although a glimpse of disbelief must have flashed across your face as he continues.

“I mean it, (y/n). It was nice,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Buck.”

Bucky adjusts himself, leaning his back against the side of the sofa, one leg tucked under the other.

You watch his face once more as he sits in deep thought, debating whether to tell you whatever it is that he’s thinking.

“You’ve never called me Buck before,” he whispers.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” you whisper back, guilt lacing your voice as you shuffle in place anxiously. “I overstepped, I’m so sorry.”

He lets out a gentle chuckle before tilting his head back, resting it on the edge of the sofa’s armrest.

“I like it,” he breathes, so quietly that if you weren’t paying attention you wouldn’t have heard him.

A soft yet embarrassed breath escapes your mouth as you lean deeper into the sofa, your knee lightly brushing against his.

Your eyes flutter as you sink further into the sofa and you can’t stop yourself from falling ever so slightly into the man beside you.

---------------

The sound of someone clattering around in the kitchen pulls you from, quite possibly, the best night’s sleep you’ve ever had. You attempt to sit up, but a weight around your waist halts you, keeping you locked into place.

That place being Bucky’s arms.

Fuck.

You make another attempt to free yourself from his grasp, only to be pulled tighter into his chest. Shuffling some more in an effort to wake him, the soft sounds of your body against the sofa attract the attention of someone else.

Zemo peers over the back of the sofa, a please grin on his face.

“I see you two are finally starting to get along,” he smirks. “I have to say, I’ve never seen that man sleep so soundly before.”

Zemo reaches across you to Bucky’s flesh arm, giving him a poke.

“Like a baby,” he laughs when Bucky still doesn’t react. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds in peace,” he winks, waltzing back towards his room.

“Buck,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you tap whichever parts of his body you can reach. “Buck.”

A sound of complaint leaves his mouth as he pulls you closer once again before his eyes begin to open.

“Buck?”

“I’m up, I’m awake,” he whispers, his grasp on you slowly loosening as his body comes back to life.

You pull yourself out of his grip as he begins to sit up, rubbing his head with his free hand.

“I think it’s safe to say that your tea works.”

252 notes · View notes