#what the stark spangled fuck

[oopspeter]

We'll never have sex

SUMMARY: Returning from a year long mission should be a relief, but the terrors from those hard months have followed you back home. Struggling to find comfort in your old ways, a certain co-worker introduces you to his own salvation-- distraction.

WARNINGS: 16+ rating for mature themes, blood, allusions to torture, foul language, minor to medium injury descriptions, weapons and violence.

WC: 3.6K

NOTES: First fic! Please let me know what you think-- it hasn't been proofread very well.

"Are you taller than the last time I saw you?" You tease, in awe of his largely built physique.

"I guess everything finally loosened after being off of the ice for so long," Bucky says rather non-chalant.

"Has the giant stick finally fallen out of your ass then?" You quip with a cheeky grin.

"Never," he shakes his head with an equally matched smile.

"And decided to evolve from that 'lord and saviour' haircut?" You motion to his new trim.

"I've decided that look only suits the holiest of men, which of course I don't qualify for," he instinctively runs his fingers through the chopped locks.

The sound of a heavy heel echoes on the polished concrete, a grand entrance for the one and only Tony Stark.

"Hermit and the recluse!" His hands spread out like an awful gesture of welcome.

"I thought you were too old for modern hip-hop references, Anthony," you push your lips into a thin line, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Puh-lease, as if gramps here even knows what I'm yapping about," Tony points his thumb over his shoulder at Bucky as he walks past.

Even though he was totally right, Bucky also refrained from producing any sort of a reaction.

"Here to spread anything useful or are you just trying to be a dick?" Your current distaste for the playboy was evident in your tone, but it was nothing new. Deep down inside you did feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, as did he to you.

Opening the large, stainless steel refrigerator that looked like it could hold at least six months worth of food at a single time, he snatched a bottle of lemon water before slamming the door shut again.

"Since you're back, Banner wants to do a few procedural run throughs just to check up on your health," he flicks the cap off of the bottle which goes flying into the bin. "Oh, and the Star Spangled Banner would like to see you as well-- not the Bruce Banner, but the Star Spangled one."

"You can just say Steve, you know that right?" You squint at him as he daintily sips from the mouthpiece of the bottle.

"Just proving my vocabulary has extended further than the most generic white-man name in America," he shrugs coolly, and you kinda' wanna punch him in his smug face.

The ex-soldier stands as still as stone beside you during your exchange with Tony, if you couldn't see the gentle rise and fall of his chest you'd think he was dead with the lack of noise emitting. Choosing to ignore him, the man takes the cue to leave the room, still feverishly sipping the bottle of lemony water. Once the sound of his heavy heels disappeared out of the kitchen and down the hallway, you noticed how Bucky's shoulders relax.

"Bet you're dreading being back, huh?" You allow to corner of your mouth to turn upwards slightly.

"I could say the same thing to you."

There's an unspoken tension in the air, something far from awkward but not any nearer to comfortable either. Had it been a year and a half since you last saw him? On his six month mission to Angola, at the fourth month you had been sent off on a mission of your own in the Pacific islands to track down an old HYDRA associate who had formulated a plan to obliterate the entire planet from his tiny laboratory in the middle of bum-fuck no where.. no biggie, right?

The seemingly short mission of yours turned into a solo, twelve month exhibition trying to chase a man who was half the size of yourself and almost as clever. Eventually when you caught up to him and the few friends he had made along the way, the year job was over in thirty seconds. Underwhelming.

Sure, you’d escaped death a few times, but not by the man who you’d been hunting. Turns out there were a few other undesirables along your path that you just couldn’t miss the opportunity to lock up. Maybe that was a bit of a roadblock, too.

“I don’t want to keep Bruce waiting, I’ll uh.. see you later?” It was a hopeful question.

“Certainly,” he nods his head in reply, and your heart skips a beat or two.

You blame the heart issues on being so emotionally disconnected from anyone for the past twelve months.

The appointment with Bruce was swift, you chat for more of the time than you did actually doing the check up. He prescribed you with a few pain meds, re-dressed some wounds you’d brought back with you and altered your fitness plan to better accommodate your new injuries. Bruce had a way when it came to making people feel safe, despite the fact any moment a big green monster could jump out and crush you.

There were the usual questions like, how has your diet been-- have you been getting enough sleep-- are the night terrors still occurring-- any unusual pains-- are you sexually active?

The answer has always been something along the lines of nutritious, not at all, all of the time, plenty and no.

It's hard to maintain a sex life being away all the time and locking yourself in your room when you are around, even harder trying to manage a relationship. Sure, you've dated before, dabbled in a love life or two before inevitably deciding it wasn't for you. It never will be for you.

It's far past nightfall by the time you actually decide to leave your room, walking barefoot through the long, cold halls of the tower before finding yourself in the kitchen. Your stomach growls to protest your hunger, throat scratchy and dry as symptoms of your thirst. The automatic lights flicker on the moment you walk through the threshold into the kitchen. A pristine, clean kitchen soon to become the next victim of your horrific cooking skills.

First of all you grab a glass from it's respective cabinet, running the water from the tap to fill it up. Your lips meet the mouth of the glass and you drink, quenching your thirst with a relieved sigh. The water here is refreshing, hygienic, in great contrast to what you've been drinking for the past year. Feeling the coolness in your palms you go to take another sip.

It's metallic, tastes like you've drunk straight from a muddy puddle. The water they have just thrown on your face definitely mixed with the blood dripping from your nose and clinging to your lips. Coughing up a mix of flehm and mucky water, you thrash around in the flimsy wooden chair you've been restrained to.

The room smells of mildew, wet dog fur, and something that is heavily rotting. You can blame the stink of decomposition on whatever is beneath that blue tarp tucked away in the far corner of the room. There's no light aside from a single bulb eerily hanging above your head like some old, cliché horror movie.

Your wrists hurt more than usual and this time you can't blame it on early on-set arthritis, but instead the finger-marks imprinted in a purplish green and the thick rope that rubs against them. The silhouette hiding in the dark approaches you in the light, the indistinguishable appearance morphing into that of a tall man with a mask that hid his face and resembled a smiling monkey. It would be the least menacing thing in the room if he wasn't wielding a knife as large as your forearm.

It's silent aside from the obnoxious drip from the ceiling on the tarp. Drip. Drip. Drip. The face of the knife shines in your eye, reflecting from the light of the bulb hanging from the ceiling. His feet drag along the crusty floor, it's evident he has a limp by the way he carries himself towards you. If you had a free leg or two you'd drive your foot straight into his knee to completely eliminate that problem for him, forever; but how tightly they had bound you prevented even a nudge of movement.

The masked man is close enough for your knees to touch, taking the tip of the sharp knife and dragging it across your cheek to leave a light mark that brings blood in it's wake. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of even a slight whimper which evidentially leaves him unsatisfied, because the knife leaves your face and dives into your--

"Hey, are you okay?"

The glass in your hand shatters completely, hundreds of shards diving and piercing the skin on your palm, the water that was left now drenching your socks. Were you holding it so tightly that the sudden fright made it break?

Swinging around with a crimson hand you find an equally shocked Bucky, lips slightly ajar as a physical indication of his surprise. Not even a moment later he's rushing over with a dishtowel to wrap around your bleeding hand, the white terry cloth quickly becoming stained. You can tell he's panicked by the rise and fall of his shoulders, yet you are struggling to even breathe.

The rotting and mildew is replaced by lemon disinfectant and lingering cooked onion. A dark, dank room now replaced by a pristine, white kitchen. The man in front of you is not a man who wears the mask of a monkey, but instead the one and only Bucky Barnes.

"Fuck, fuck," he has the towel wrapped so tightly around your palm. "We need Banner--"

"No!" You interrupt him, finally finding your own voice. "I don't want to wake him, please don't disturb him."

"Then what do I do?" You can tell he is trying his best to keep his composure and not snap at you for being so stubborn like he has so many times before.

"Get the kit from under the sink, wait for the bleeding to calm and I can take the remaining shards out of my hand," you instruct.

"I will take the remaining shards out of your hand," he corrects. "Keep pressure on it please."

His callous hand places your other hand on top of the towel, pushing the back of it down to apply the same pressure he was before. He's rushing to grab the kit from beneath the kitchen sink, taking his hand to shove all of the bleach bottles aside instead of carefully rummaging through.

You've already made your way to the island, taking a seat at the bar stool and leaning your elbow against the marble. It fucking stings. You have no idea how you transported all the way back into the room after shoving the memory so far down to the depths where you thought it could never recover.

You take in his evening look, those baggy grey sweatpants a signature at-home look of his. The creased t-shirt a dark navy and border lining a compression tee from the way it hugs his torso and biceps so tightly. There are bags under his eyes like there always is, and his brows are pulled tightly together in deep concern.

Your heart does that concerning thing again. Perhaps the bloodloss?

He stands beside you at the end of the counter, the fine marble a slight barrier between your bodies. He unzips the kit with such force you're surprised the entire thing hasn't ripped. He's panicked, you can tell.

"Hey," your uninjured hand reaches out to lightly touch your wrist. "Breathe, it's okay, I'm not dying."

Bucky pauses, and he isn't breathing-- until he does. His tense shoulders drop and his face finally relaxes, then he moves your hand back to apply pressure to the towel.

The silence between you is intense and lasts for what feels like forever. You can tell there's a question on the tip of his tongue that he's too afraid to ask, and you've got a feeling you're not quite sure how to answer it either why. You're not sure why you broke the glass, or why you became absent for so long, or why you were back in that room again.

"Why are you awake?" He interrupts your escape into your own head.

"I couldn't sleep," you answer honestly. "Neither could you?"

Bucky shakes his head in reply. "No, I couldn't."

"Never can." You both say in unison.

There's a pause.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he doesn't look you in the eyes, instead stares at the red cloth covering your hand.

"You didn't mean to," you shake your head with reassurance, offering a small smile to show that you aren't upset with him at all.

"What if I did?" The corner of his lip upturns.

"Then we'd have a bit of a problem, wouldn't we?" Your tone is playful.

"How about we leave the sparring for after, when all of the glass is out of your hand y'know," he shrugs jokingly.

"Right," you nod your head in agreeance, pulling the towel back to reveal the palm of your hand.

It's definitely not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but not the worst either. There's only one significantly deep cut but the rest just brushed the surface few layers of skin. Bucky is quick to get to work with the tweezers, disinfectant and plasters.

As he works on mending your hand you can't help but look at his face.

Compared to the last time you saw him there's a scar or two more on his right cheekbone, a significant healed slash across the bridge of his nose, a few extra wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. The stubble on his jaw, chin and upper lip is well maintained and lacks intensity on his neck. The cropped look suits him, hints of grey coming through as a reminder of his aging body now that he has been off the all the chemicals and the ice.

Your eyes trace his side profile, from his hairline to his forehead, eyebrows to the tip of his nose, nose to his lips, lips to his chin and then back to his lips. They're pursed as a habit of concentration, blue eyes trained on the task at hand (literally).

Though it stings, it's practically painless with the way he leans into the counter to reach you. Your heart is skipping again, but this time you think you know why.

"Done," he claps his hands together. "I definitely recommend seeing Banner tomorrow though, even though I spend my weekends fixing myself up I sure as hell ain't a doctor."

"You did a mighty fine job anyways, Mr Barnes," you admire his handy work, though you definitely need that deeper cut a proper look at tomorrow. It'll definitely stop the bleeding and keep it all together for the meantime.

The tension resumes it's place between you, it's palpable.

Your stomach growls in the quiet room.

"Are you hungry?" He quirks a brow.

"Yeah, I was initially in here to cook," you nod your head and rub your forearm with your uninjured hand sheepishly. "Kinda' foiled now." You wave your now bandaged hand.

"Can I take you somewhere?" He's polite, and looks at you like an expectant puppy. You can't help but grin.

"Sure."

It’s a stones throw, or two, from the tower before you finally arrive at your destination. The roaring of his motorbike falls to silence as he uses his heel to push out the kickstand, leaning the bike on it and throwing his leg over to hop off. Reaching his hand out he offers to help you down, which you gracefully accept, placing your hand in the palm of his own and jumping out of your seat.

Dinner was gorgeous. Some little, family owned, Thai place hidden in Brooklyn, where the women knew Bucky’s name and the men shook his hand. They presented you both with a free entrée. It sure as hell made you forget about that little episode in the kitchen. The second the food met your tongue you practically melted into your seat, and Bucky laughed as if to say ‘I know, right!’

Conversation flowed easily, any moment of silent was just a cause of food being stuffed into your mouths. He didn’t ask why you couldn’t sleep, or why you were in such a state and broke the glass. Bucky knew you’d tell him when you were ready.

A shared plate of Khao Niew Ma Maung and a more than generous tip later, you find yourself standing outside of the door to your room. Laughter echoes down the empty, dimly lit hall as you keep at least a foot between you— not daring to even brush arms. His strong featured are illuminated by the shadows, and that funny feeling rests heavily in your chest.

There’s a blanket of silence that falls between you two, not wanting this quiet moment to end. You can see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and if the super soldier hearing was true he’d definitely be able to hear the heavy beat of your heart.

“Thank you,” you break the silence. “I— tonight was lovely.”

Bucky hums. “It was.”

Neither of you move a muscle, an invitation lingering on the tip of your tongue.

You open your mouth to speak. “Do you—”

“Yes, please.”

Inside your room is sweet, the bed is made with the cosiest of sheets, books stack shelves accompanied by little trinkets you display proudly. Flicking a match you ignite your pumpkin-scented candle for a source of light, the blinds already automatically pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. If the crisp, untouched sheets were not enough of a sign that you couldn’t find rest, perhaps the growing bags under your eyes were.

Respectfully he kicks his shoes off at the door before stepping on your plush carpet, shrugging off his own jacket and neatly placing it on the back of your desk chair. He’s never been in your room, no one has besides Banner who stumbled in panicked to find you a shaking mess on the floor. That’s a story for another time.

You lay on top the bedspread and rest your head on the plush pillow, hands intertwining on your stomach as you stare at the ceiling. Letting out a gentle sigh you feel the mattress dip to the right of your feet.

“You can lay with me, don’t be shy.”

He’s hesitant to do so, but you can feel the warmth of his body as he lays parallel to yourself. You can smell his cologne and it’s much nicer than your expensive candle.

“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he motions with his hand that you can see in your peripherals.

“You thought I’d be happy with the Stark furniture they so kindly gifted us all when we first moved in?” You put a certain emphasis on the word, which causes him to chuckle. The bed shakes under his weight, and the butterflies flutter.

“I think I broke the bed frame on the third day,” he shuffles beside you, you can tell there’s a smile on his face that matches yours.

“Holy shit, who did you do?”

“No— no— not from that!” He’s quick to jump in and defend himself, evidently flustered. “Turns out the billionaire couldn’t spare the few extra dollars to buy something that could hold 260lbs.”

“So what, you were just sleeping and it collapsed beneath you?” You turn your head slightly to glance at his face.

“I mean I kinda’ face planted on it after I got home from a frustrating mission, and it just splintered beneath me.”

“Oh god,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I was pissed,” he shakes his head, turning it slightly to look into your eyes. “I stormed through the complex and kicked open Stark’s door.”

“Did you get a new bed frame?”

“No, my mattress is still on the floor.”

“I think you need to make another complaint to head office then.”

“You bet,” he shakes his head with a heavy sigh, but the upturn of his mouth tells you that it’s the least of his worries right now.

There’s a certain tension in the air as his cerulean eyes drown in your own, nothing but the crackling of the candle wick and your combined breaths filling the void.

“Thank you, for taking me out tonight,” your eyes trace his jaw to his lips before flicking back to his own. “I—I wasn’t doing too well.”

“I know,” he nods his head in understanding. “I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mrs Nguyen so happy to see me walk through that door with someone other than myself.”

“Is that why she’d check on our table every five minutes despite the fact we were the only people dining there?”

He chuckles, running his hand through his chopped hair. “Seems so.”

For the first time in a very long time, you feel your lids getting heavy as your body sinks further into the mattress. There’s a warmth rather than that awful cool you feel so often, and it’s starting to become a challenge to keep your eyes open.

After what feels like an eternity of struggle you lift your head slightly to notice how Bucky’s lashes now rest on his cheeks, lips parted to let out quiet breaths. And suddenly in this moment you are safe, and everything is okay.

Your lips meet his forehead in a soft, gentle kiss. “Thank you.” Before you rest your head a little closer to his own and fall into a sleep you’d been praying for.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #captain america #the winter soldier #steven grant rogers #tony stark #fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #steve rogers #catws #fatws #fatws bucky #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #the avengers #marvel fanfiction

[captainsimagines]

pretty woman, this is me trying || three

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(3/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: references to past sexual abuse; strong language; references to sex; reference to past trauma

Word Count: 2,390+

Author’s Note: Steve isn’t going to be evil, I promise. Oops. xxMoni

~

    You entered through a different entrance today. One less guarded and one that didn’t full-body screen you.

You dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans with a puffy sweater to protect from the cold. Unsure of where to go after entering, you wandered around the visitor center for a few minutes.

No one looked at you funny. They had a nametag ready for you and a cup of coffee. You were treated spectacularly well by the secretaries and random agents you passed. Perhaps they didn’t know your occupation, perhaps they did. It’s hard to believe they’d act the same way with Natasha Romanoff.

Then again, Natasha Romanoff would skin them alive before an insult was even thought.

“You lost?”

Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. It was Steve fucking Rogers. Steve fucking Rogers was talking to you.

“Uh, yeah. I’m looking for Bucky Barnes.”

Something strange flashed in his eyes. You swear his chest puffed out a little more and a guard went up. “What did you want with him?”

“He invited me over today. Something about taking a walk in the park.”

“Bucky doesn’t take walks in the park.”

“Bucky could have been talking in code for all I know. But he does know I’m coming.”

Steve stepped closer, crossing his arms. “I know his codes.”

You did your best not to cower, but he was so much bigger than you. One push and you’re certain he could pop one of your main arteries. “Can’t you just call him?”

“We have a roster of all the known visitors. If your name isn’t on the list, then you’re not allowed up. So let me go check—”

“It’s alright, Rogers. I invited her. Don’t pull the shield on an innocent.”

Bucky emerged from the hallway in that famous sweater and leather jacket combination you’ve seen him wear in paparazzi photos. But since it was actively snowing outside, his hair was down. Down and wavy and freaking conditioned.

“See, Captain Rogers? I wasn’t about to blow up the building.”

Steve looked you up and down, sneering for a second before it turned into something kinder. Was this the famous Captain America? Rude and overprotective? You understand that you’re a stranger and Bucky Barnes wasn’t a person to venture out all that often, but did you look menacing? Was there some kind of sign hanging over your head that read: Evil Hooker?

Or.

Steve never mentioned you being a hooker. A sex worker, even. Nothing of the sort came out of his mouth. He actually believed you to be Bucky’s… friend.

So Tony Stark and Bucky were the only ones who knew about this deal. Well, and Pepper Potts and Maria Hill. It made this whole thing a lot more comfortable. You didn’t really want the Captain America knowing you were hired to “fuck” his friend.

“Where did you meet?”

Bucky grumbled something incoherent underneath a heavy breath, glaring at his friend as he rushed to stand next to you. Not touching, but still… protective. And that little detail made you feel ten times greater than the star-spangled man.

“We met last week. At the bakery down the road. Now if you’ll excuse us,” Bucky explained, tilting his head for you to follow him. He began walking back to the hallway he came from, not sparing another glance over a shoulder. You met Steve’s eye—his incredibly judgmental eye—and gave him a tight smile.

“Bucky usually tells me about girls,” Steve interrupted you mid-step, speaking low enough that not even the super soldier ahead of you could hear.

“I don’t know your relationship,” you reasoned.

“No,” Steve sighed, looking you up and down again. “You don’t.”

You squinted at the man, suddenly angry, but you did yourself a favor and reeled in the frightful emotion. He had a shield and super strength, but the ball forming in your stomach had every indication of barreling through those things. Being looked down upon by men did something to you. It made you vicious, and rightfully so. A sort of viciousness that turned light blue to red and urged you to claw downward.

“It was nice meeting you, Captain.”

You turned on your heel, head held high, swallowing the neanderthal rage pounding through your veins.

    Bucky really liked milking the fuck out of the heater. Your cheeks were hot and you were starting to sweat in your boots.

“Tea? Coffee?”

“You got bread?”

Bucky, looking away from you,  paused. Quite comically, you might add. He lowered the coffee pot and turned around, one eyebrow high and lips threatening to widen into a grin. “I have bread.”

“And butter?”

“I’ve got bread and butter.”

“Good, because I’m starving.”

Bucky pulled out a long roll of French bread—freshly baked—and removed the packaging. He sliced a few pieces, piling them in a small basket. Then he got some packaged butter from the fridge. Not just any butter. Those tiny packets of butter from Panera. Dozens of them.

“You’re my favorite Avenger.”

Bucky snorted, buttering a piece of bread for himself. He stood while you sat on one of the barstools, buttering your own piece as well. “All it takes is to feed you, huh?”

“Well, when I asked for bread and butter, I was expecting you to toast some wheat bread and pull out the margarine.”

“Never. This is my favorite peasant dish. Might as well have fresh ingredients.”

You covered your mouth, laughing softly. “A peasant dish, huh?”

Bucky shrugged. “My Ma used to make this. But sometimes she’d head down to the Puerto Rican stores and buy some tortillas. I’d eat them with butter and jelly.”

“Please tell me they were flour and you at least heated them up.”

“I am not as uncultured as I look.”

Now that made you grin big.

You two ate in a comfortable silence, awkward questions stored for until after your stomachs were full. In the meantime, you glanced around Bucky’s apartment. You noticed things you didn’t have the time to notice yesterday.

Small accents on the walls: drawings, picture frames, and hanging ornaments. Drawings Captain Rogers most likely drew. Pictures that only showed Bucky, Steve, and Sam. Ornaments that didn’t have Christmas accents exactly, but rather the names of each individual Avenger. Like those Avengers made the ornament themselves. It was a personalized apartment, after all. Like Bucky valued his personal space and wanted it to be comforting when he returned from a hard day of battling the bad guys.

Kind of like you.

Your apartment was full. Like, literally. Counters full of picture frames, Etsy art, sweaters strung randomly. It was homey and warm, made to be welcoming.

You wonder if Bucky feels the same: Like more will never be enough.

“We can play 20 questions! Though, it might get kind of boring unless we search up the question chart—”

“I don’t like being touched.”

You paused, mouth wrapped around a strangled syllable. Something cracked in your throat before you cleared it, the remnants of the end of a word. “Alright, straight with it. Got it.”

“I was tortured and brainwashed and abused and sexually assaulted while in Hydra custody. That’s why I’m comfortable with hiring you. You have a choice, and you give me a choice. The two go hand in hand.”

You wanted to say something. Anything. But nothing especially intelligible sprang to mind.

“And don’t apologize or tell me, ‘Damn, that sucks.’ I’ve heard enough of it throughout my two years of freedom.”

“Then I’m drawing a blank.”

His lips twitched, but he continued, “Just… Be normal with me. Just don’t touch me.”

“No touch at all? What if I have to push you out of the way of a moving car?”

He made a noise resembling a chuckle. “I’d probably survive it.”

Not even to save his life? Alright, you can work with that. This man simply wanted companionship and you were an expert in that, too. Kendall enjoyed touching your waist or holding your hand during dinner, kissing you on the cheek or hugging you for too long. But he was, first and foremost, seeking company. And since this Christmas Ball called for nothing more than your company, everything was settled.

“And don’t get me wrong,” Bucky started, looking pained as he spoke. “I want to… I just…”

“Bucky,” you said, keeping your voice soft. “Is there something else you want to ask me to—”

“I want to learn how to touch people again. For them to stand near me again. To not… panic when someone raises a hand for a fucking high-five.”

You nodded, somewhat understanding. “It’s a gradual process. Some of the girls who experienced abuse while working or by monogamous partners described it that way.”

“Do I just need to get used to it?”

You shook your head. “It’s more like… Reminding yourself that sweet touches exist, too. That casual touches are just that. Casual. That accidental touches are bound to happen.”

“Tricking my mind into it.”

“Perhaps. But then again, it won’t be a trick that far down the road. It will be real.”

Bucky grumbled, looking down at the counter. Ideas were flying around in your head. Things to get him reacting well to you being around, the smallest of jump scares, ideas for the softest touches.

But this wasn’t just any client. This was Bucky Barnes. World War Two veteran, prisoner of war, war hero, Avenger.

That was who you were trying to help.

And you had the perfect method for introduction.

“Up for a walk?” you suggested, hopping off the barstool and grabbing your purse.

Bucky stood slowly, raising an eyebrow. “To where?”

“The fun is in the surprise!”

Bucky Barnes looked you up and down, assessing, but ultimately took a chance. He followed you out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

And that alone was an achievement.

He followed you.

You would not fail him now.

~

     “Keep up with me!”

Bucky tried his best to keep the rumble of his laugh minimal. He wanted to be nice, to make this experience comfortable for you, too. But he didn’t want to seem overeager—What if you took it the wrong way? What if you expected something from him? So Bucky did his absolute best to not smile fully, to keep his laughs low, to keep his hands in his pockets.

He jogged to catch up, nearly slipping on ice. He doesn’t know how you haven’t fallen and face planted yourself. You were wearing running shoes—Bucky, and he has been chastising himself since you arrived at his front door, completely assumed you would be wearing heels. Everything he knows about sex workers is unbuttoned blouses and shoes too difficult to walk in. But then again, there are the ones who make their income on the internet.

You twirled and clapped your hands together, looking up at the sign that blinked through the layer of freshly fallen snow.

And Bucky made it a goal to google everything about sex workers in the modern age, because he feels like he should be punched in the face and spit on.

Oh.

Bad thing to think about right now. Bucky never liked when that happened to him back then.

“You want to get used to touch again? Start here!”

The Manhattan Kennel.

“Animals?”

You snorted, pulling open the door. Bucky raced to hold it open for you, internally cursing that you weren’t more careful.

“You can’t just barrel into someplace without assessing the possible threats!” Bucky whispered-screamed as close as he could to your ear. He understood that it was just a kennel… But to not search for threats ahead of you? Bucky takes it upon himself to do just that.

Two workers behind the counters, both male and in their early thirties. Surrounded by what looked like parrots and turtles—

“You think I, as a hooker, don’t look for threats?”

Bucky blinked, swallowing the embarrassing lump in his throat. You continued, “Two males, both of which look like they could carry me out easily. My purse has pepper spray and a pocket knife. I know how to break a nose with the heel of my hand. The dude on the left has a broken leg, by the way. And I’m pretty sure the one on the right is eyeing you instead of me.”

“Welcome to the Manhattan Kennel! How can we help you both find your lifelong friend?” the man on the right said, his voice a little higher-pitched than Bucky was expecting.

“Exactly,” you finished.

Bucky turned to you, hoping his equal amount of disbelief and proud astonishment were visible.

So he underestimated you. Okay. Bucky was thinking of kicking himself in the ass later, anyway.

“Do you have an area where we can sit and have the little angels run all over us?” you asked.

“Right up here,” the worker responded, as if that was a common request.

Was Bucky going to react well to this? Hell if he knows. He’s never exactly interacted with animals after his time with Hydra. They don’t incite the same amount of discomfort he usually feels when a human being stands near him. And Sam held a Veteran Dog event just last month—not that Bucky went, but he did see them being led into the compound.

But this did seem like a good idea. In theory. At least you weren’t touching him.

“We’ve got a mix of dogs this season. Big ones, little ones, fluffy mates, seniors, puppies—Was there any kind you wanted to look at?”

You turned to Bucky, your eyebrows raised sweetly and doe-eyes waiting for an answer. Were your eyes naturally that big?

“Um,” Bucky stuttered, swiping a nervous hand down the back of his neck. His metal fingers got caught in the loose strands of his hair-bun. “The seniors sound nicer.”

“Perfect!” the worker cheered, “Just make yourselves comfortable in the green playpen and I’ll have about five dogs come around right now.”

The worker exited, leaving the two of you alone. Bucky created a respectable distance, clearing his throat uncomfortably as you obviously pretended not to notice.

“Do you like dogs?” you asked.

“Never really gave it much thought.”

“Really? I like both dogs and cats. I love all animals equally. I don’t segregate.”

Bucky chuckled, wiping his bottom lip softly. “You mean, discriminate?”

“That, too.”

“Are you looking to adopt one today?” he fished, kicking an invisible pebble with his left foot. Looking down at his feet calmed him a bit.

“Don’t have the space. I’d love to adopt a tiny, little Shih Tzu, though.”

That pulled a small smile to his lips. “You look like someone who would twin with a small dog.”

“You’re not far off. I’d match Christmas sweaters and everything.”

He was in the middle of imagining you squeezing a Shih Tzu sized head through a doggy sweater when the shelter worker returned, clicking his tongue in a call to the dogs behind him. Several older dogs, white around the mouth and eyebrows, came barreling through the small gate. They ignored him at first, finding their own scents much more interesting. But they took notice the moment you fell to your knees, squealing in excitement and comments of sweet praise. Three dogs, a golden retriever and two corgis, barreled into you. Licking in eagerness, barking with elation, searching for your hands so they may pat their heads and tickle their ears. You obliged wholeheartedly, deciding to lay down and take the rushed steps to your stomach, your chest. You laughed and awed, nowhere close to stopping, in a strange and soft element.

You were on your back with weight on your chest, and you weren’t screaming in terror. You were reaching out and fluffing hair on the top of the dogs’ heads, and you weren’t breaking any fingers. Your clothes were being pulled and scratched at, but not torn off.

You were happy. Pumped with glee and spirit.

It damn near made Bucky tear up.

“You want to pet some?” the worker asked, staying by the gate. There were two other dogs drinking from the water bowls in the corner, minding their own business. The chihuahua drank and drank, while the other—a German shepherd—stared at him. The dog tilted his head, his tongue slipping out quickly to swipe at his nose. He made no move to approach Bucky. He just stared, interested, and kind.

Bucky hesitated, glancing over at you for a signal. You turned toward him, grinning from ear to ear, holding one of the corgis to your chest. You didn’t seem to mind the fuzzy butt near your neck.

“It’s up to you,” you clarified, doing your best to shrug. “But this would be a good first exercise.”

You didn’t divulge more information than needed in front of a stranger. The worker made no indication he had even heard at all. So Bucky lowered himself down to his knees, then onto his bottom, crossing his legs in an easy pretzel. He removed his gloves, breathing in long, calculated breaths. Preparing himself to be trampled—with paws, not with boots.

The German shepherd inched closer, curious, his beautiful brown and black coat mesmerizing Bucky. It had been a while since Bucky had seen a German shepherd. Last time was during the war. Steve had just returned with a small, rescued unit and gave his tent over to an injured sergeant. The man, who Bucky recalled as having the most gorgeous green eyes, had given his cot to his equally injured dog. With a horrid gunshot wound in his shoulder, the soldier sat on the cold, forest floor and wrapped his dog’s leg. Bucky hadn’t questioned him, hadn’t spoken much to the soldier, really.

All he remembered about that encounter was saying, “Describe the landscape of where you were held captive,” and the soldier replying, “This rascal probably remembers better than me.” Bucky couldn’t actually ask the dog the same question so he nodded his thanks, and never saw the dog or the soldier again.

Bucky figured it was safer to hold his flesh hand out first—safer for the dog. He highly doubted he would lose a finger to a dog with half his original teeth. The dog sniffed, nuzzling his nose in Bucky’s palm, groaning softly. Bucky released a shaky breath, one that hurt a little as it exited his lungs, but he sat still. He sat completely frozen, not risking moving, because this was the first time someone or something had touched him without him freaking out in a long time.

A paw repeatedly brushed against his knee, telling him to do more than just offer out his hand. So Bucky turned his hand over, rested it on the dog’s forehead, and pet him.

Then he used both hands.

Close to sobbing now, Bucky buried his face in the dog’s neck. The dog did the very same.

“Bucky?”

Bucky hummed, pulling the heavy dog closer.

“Did this make you happy?”

Bucky breathed in the mix of dust, dirt, and—weirdly enough—tortilla chips, that made up the dog’s coat. Honest in his answer, Bucky barely nodded as he mumbled, “It feels good to be hugged again.”

~

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #marvel fanfiction #mini-series #holiday fanfic #pretty woman au #captainsimagines #by Moni

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: Love Me Like You Do

KINKTOBER DAY 19: Comfort

Cowritten with @spectre-posts

Summary: Sometimes, even the toughest and bravest of people need comfort…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language words, smut (NSFW), no under 18s. Mentions of past trauma…

A/N: The second and last Stark Spangled instalment for Kinktobe3r. Once again, huge thanks to my cowriter and collaborator for Kinktober for allowing this indulgence. This slots into the SSB timeline after Chapter 22: I Don’t Like People Touching My Stuff, just after the team have found the Sceptre. If you haven’t read any of the Stark Spangled Universe fics, then be aware this DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR A MAJOR PLOTLINE. However, you can just appreciate the smut in itself if you don’t want to read the rest. And please feel free to check it all out and chat to me with comments and reviews.. Stark Spangled Man is the first starting point…it’s my absolute favourite epic I’ve written. Its’ long as hell but…my total guilty pleasure. I love these babies!

W/C: 3.4k

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Kinktober Masterlist

Steve stepped out of the elevator onto the training floor of Avengers Tower, wiping his brow. He’d just been for a run and was now ready to hit the shower and kill a few hours before dinner. He intended to drop in on Tony and Banner, see if they’d made any more headway with whatever it was they were doing with the sceptre.

But first, he wanted to find Katie. She’s been a little quiet that morning. And whilst she insisted she was okay after the whole ‘Dani-with-an-I-’thing, he knew his girl was absolutely one for holding grudges.

Before he had left for his daily jog (or sprint as the case may be for people without super strength and speed), he’d checked the training rota and knew she had a sparring session with Widow. So he passed the Drill Simulation Suite and headed to the main gymnasium room at the back where he knew the girls held their sessions. As he turned the corner at the bottom of the corridor, he narrowly avoided colliding with Natasha.

“Oh, sorry, Nat…”

“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be if you go in there.” She jerked her head towards the doors and snorted. 

“What do you mean?”

“Katie is in there…kicking the shit out of a punch bag.”

Steve groaned inwardly, “I though you guys were sparring.”

"Yeah, we were until she clocked me twice, a rarity." Natasha jutted her chin upward.

Steve arched a brow. “She did?”

"Yeah, so I'm gonna hit the showers. Good luck, pal."

With a deep breath, Steve continued towards the door of the gym. It was no secret, his fiancée scared the shit out of him at times. And he also wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with another display of petulance like yesterday, especially seeing as he was under the assumption they’d talked it through, and fucked it through, in the car lot.

The sliding door was opened by JARVIS and the Captain stepped in. Sure as told, Katie was masticating the hung canvas bag. Her hands were wrapped to protect the knuckles but it didn't seem to be doing much good, for Steve's keen sight picked up the tinge of blood peeking through the white gauze. She was covered in a glistening sheen of sweat and pieces of her hair were drooping wetly in her face. Her black leggings clung to her legs while her sports bra kept her shapely breasts secure.

"Doll..." he said with a soft but loud tone to be heard.

She gave no response, no indication she knew of his presence.

"Katie..." Steve tried again as he stepped closer.

This time she'd heard him, but her only reply was a heavy round house kick to the bag, sending it swinging towards Steve's face.

It was a futile shot at him, his cat like reflexes easily saved him as he caught it, holding it in his strong arms.

“Sweetheart, your hands are bleeeding.”

She looked down at the pinkish stained wrap and shrugged, huffing the hair from her face.

“Hey…” Steve frowned, still holding the punch bag, “what’s wrong?”

"Don't know." She grunted. "Just....rage. Frustration, irritation? What do you want, Steve?"

“I came to find you, I knew you had a session with Natasha. Although she seems to have bailed early as you got the better of her. Twice by all accounts.”

Katie stalked to the bench where her towel and water were and grabbed the bottle. She took a big chug and flopped down.

“She faltered, I saw an opening."

“Clearly.”

A huge sigh escaped her chest. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm, I don't know..."

Steve sighed and let go of the punch bag. “Doll, you’ve been quiet since last night. What’s eating ya?”

"Dani with an I, I suppose."

Steve groaned, “really?” He walked towards her and took a seat to her left on the bench. “I thought we went through this on the drive home.”

"I know we did. I know." She sighed. "And worked it out in the garage." She groaned. "I just, I had this awful dream and I needed to just wreck it out. I don't know."

“Wanna tell me about it?” Steve asked softly, not a shred of annoyance in his tone. He knew only too well how vivid and real dreams could seem and feel, way after the night had gone and the sun was out. The woman to his right was the person to whom he credited with the fact most of his night terrors and flashbacks had stopped.

"Long and the short, you were in our bed, with her, and it was.... You were...."

Steve looked at Katie, shaking his head. “You know, if it hadn’t upset you so much I’d laugh and call you ridiculous.” He nudged her gently with his elbow. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

She swallowed and brought her eyes to his. "It's stupid, I feel ridiculous, but it felt so real.”

“I get it, you know I do.” He looked at her, “you’ve seen me wake up in cold sweats from my dreams. And I you. But you know, I’d never do that to you. Ever. I love you.”

Katie nodded. "I know."

"JARVIS, lock down the gym. Systems offline," Steve asked of the AI, ensuring no one would disturb them as he knew she hated anyone seeing her vulnerability in such a way. "Let me see your hands, sweetheart."

The AI replied with his obliging confirmation as Katie twisted on the bench and held her arms out.

With slow and delicate movements, Steve held her right hand in his as he unwrapped the gauze. Over her knuckles and between her fingers he went, exposing the bruising and cuts she'd inflicted with each punch to the canvas and leather sand filled bag. When the right was through, and his lips pressed into her closed fist, he moved to the left and repeated the actions. Then in both his large hands, he held hers, attention brought to her engagement finger where he gave a tender, long held kiss.

"Better?" He wondered.

“They don’t hurt,” Katie wrinkled her nose, “not yet anyway. Although they’re not really gonna look pretty tomorrow at the party.”

She moved to stretch them both out, and Steve watched, this time his eyes lingered on the slightly bent pinkie finger of her left hand. Katie was still unable to fully straighten the misshapen digit; it was unlikely she ever would and that it would simply remain as of the few physical reminders of what she’d been through little over six months ago at the hands of Hydra. Mind you, it was a miracle (in the shape of a damned good orthopaedic surgeon) that a misshapen finger was the only lasting sign that her left hand had been all but shattered to pieces when they’d brought her home.

"Doll...." Steve cupped Katie's face. "What can I do?"

She blinked back her tears as she shook her head. “I don’t know.” She licked her lips, “I know everyone was on about movies and pizza tonight but…do you mind if we don’t? I’m feeling anti-social.”

"Of course, we don't have to do anything you don't want to. We don't even have to go tomorrow if you're not feeling up for it. Even if it's last minute."

“No, tomorrow’s… I wanna go. I got a new dress especially.”

"Alright." Steve nodded with a soft smile. "Tell you what, why don't we go back to ours, clean up and fuck off the rest of the day? I’ll make us a grilled cheese…”

“Language…” she muttered softly, her lips curling up into a little side smirk.

Steve snorted with a playful glint in his eyes. "Shhhh." He leaned forward and kissed her.Katie melted into him, her hands resting gently on his thighs as his cupped her face once more.

Steve was measured in the way he moved his lips over hers, cautiously looking to kiss her a little deeper to show her that he understood he was giving her what she needed. She took what he was offering, almost greedily, like she was seeking comfort from whatever it was that had gotten her so upset. And Steve has a suspicion that it was more than a stupid dream about him bedding some random woman they’d only met the day before. But he also understood that she might not completely understand herself why she was so wound up.

His hands slipped from her face to down her neck and curled over her ribs the further they went. Her bare skin felt hot. He felt her shiver at his touch, her hands now in his hair, her nails raking over his scalp.

Steve groaned at the tick of pain. It felt good. Strong hands now gripped at her waist and tugged her a bit closer toward him as they both were straddling the bench. 

It was almost automatic, the way he leaned forward to gently lay her down on the wooden surface. For a second or so, it all seemed to be going the way it usually did for them in a moment like this, and then Steve felt Katie go rigid, and her hands pushed at his chest.

Steve backed off, sitting right back up, pulling her with him. "I'm sorry."

“It’s not…it’s not you.” She shook her head, “its not, you know it isn’t. It’s the…the bench, it’s cold and hard and…the lights in here…looking at them…”

Steve immediately understood. She was suffering from a sudden sensory recall, a flashback even, and it wasn’t the first time either.

“C'mere," he pulled her close. It was hard for him, not frustratingly, but to not know where, when, how even the simplest action might trigger her. It damn well broke his heart every time. Bruce had warned him it was likely to continue for a long time, possibly the rest of her life.  Just like certain things still triggered memories of the war and being drowned in the icy ocean for him. 

This time, it was clearly the feel of the bench against her back, the lights in her eyes that had sent her back to that cell she’d been kept and brutalised in. 

He cradled her head against him, his arms wrapped around her, one cupping the back of her head at the base of her neck. The other, slung over her mid back to press her into him. "I'm sorry, doll."

“Stop apologising, this isn’t your fault.”

"I know," he sighed. "You're safe. It's just me."

It took a few deep breaths, but eventually he felt her relax in his hold, her cheek pressing to his chest.

"Thassit, sweetheart," he breathed deep with her. He pulled back a second and looked down at his girl. "C'mon, let's go back to the loft."

She nodded and wiped her eyes. “I don’t wanna feel like this, Steve. I hate it…and I don’t understand it.”

“Katie, there’s nothing to understand.” He shook his head, “you…what happened to you was…it was unbelievably traumatic and…”

“I know, I get that bit and I can understand the flashbacks and dreams but I don’t get this…” she waved her hand around. “Why does my back hitting a hard surface make me clam up? I’m with you. It’s not like we ain’t had sex since…well, since I recovered. We’ve had quite a lot, as it happens. You even got a little bit forceful in the elevator the other day after the mission and I liked it, Steve…so why…why…”

"No one really knows why this stuff happens. It just does. Something does or doesn't connect right, and processing it goes to shit."

Katie remained silent for a moment, looking at her hands. “Well, I’m pissed off at it all. If we can bone in the seat of a car in the parking lot, we should be able to here.”

Despite himself, Steve felt a smirk curl on his face at her downright, petulant tone and he chuckled. “Oh, sweetheart. I don’t think it’s as simple as that.”

"Well, it fucking should be. I need you, Steve, and I'm either wound up or entirely spent and not in a way you make me. I raged this morning after that senseless dream and when I woke up you were already gone from the God damn day. And I was even more pissed because my fucked up brain at first thought you'd left!"

“Woah, woah…” Steve held his hands up, “I’m not gonna leave you, ever. You know this. And despite what you think or want, or wish…life isn’t that simple. You really think I still wanna have flashbacks about crashing into that damned ice berg? I don’t, but I do.” He reached for her hands, “can you remember that first birthday I spent with you, on the boat that Tony had hired.

"Yeah."

“And how I was in a blind panic when those fireworks went off, and you…you just pressed your hands over my ears and made me focus on you?”

Her eyes misted, "yeah."

“Well, I knew they were fireworks. I knew I was on that boat, with you. I knew I was safe, but that didn’t stop my mind from telling me I wasn’t.”

Katie swallowed hard. She sniffed and took a long blink.

“But just like you were for me,” he reached out for her left hand, slipping his fingers between hers, “I’m here for you, and it don’t matter how many times this happens or doesn’t…I love you. And I ain’t going anywhere.”

A big tear slid down her cheek but Steve was quick to pull her in and kiss it away. "I love you, Katie," he spoke against her cheek.

“I love you too,” she managed between hitched breaths, “I love you so much.”

Steve smiled, his hand smoothing her hair back. “You ready to go back up to the apartment?”

"No."

“Alright…” he frowned a little.

Timidly, Katie closed the gap between them, a soft kiss to his lips.

Steve let her take the lead, allowing her to set the pace, tell him what she wanted and needed. In a beat, she was in his lap, straddling him as he straddled the bench. He didn’t protest, try and warn her not to push herself. If this was how she wanted to deal with things then he was dammed if he was gonna stop her.

 She was soft, not shy, but just careful. As if she was seeing how far she could take herself.She pulled back a little, her forehead pressed to Steve’s as she brushed her nose against his. Without a word, she took his hands which had been lightly gripping the edge of the bench, and placed them on her hips.

"You sure, sweetheart?"

Katie nodded, “I need you. I want you.”

"Yes, ma'am," he snorted and pressed into her lips.

Soft, gentle flicks of her tongue against his made him sigh against her as his large hands wrapped round her back and held her to him. Gently her hips rolled against his lap and Steve's hands moved to pull at her thighs. He opened her up a little, pulling her even closer as his lips trailed warm, soft kisses across he jaw to the hinge of her jaw.

“Sweetheart, tell me what you want.”

“Love on me, Soldier…please…”

Words weren't needed, Steve merely gave a soft smile and kissed her. His hands snaked up her thighs to her naked waist and stuffed his fingers under the band of her sports bra. With a tug, he effortlessly stripped her of it and it hit the polished floor.

A smile curved over her mouth against his lips and he couldn’t help but mimic her expression as her hands reached for his compression top. He helped, pulling the item over his head by a fistful at the back of his neck. Those heavy, large hands came back to her frame, just at her ribs. Two thumbs dragged over her nipples, up and down.

Her head tipped back, a soft sigh escaping her plump lips, her hands back in his hair.

"How much do we like these pants?" Steve wondered.

“Well, I mean they’re not my best pair of gym leggings…”

"Good." He chuckled and quickly ripped them open at her hips.

“So…how do I get back to our apartment now you’ve literally ripped my pants off. Again?”

"Towel?" He smirked with a pop of his naked shoulder.

Katie couldn't reply, for Steve pulled her perfectly into his lap, seated over his growing bulge. His hands sat at her hip and her jaw, fingers entwined in her hair as he met her with a deep but soft, tongue filled kiss.

Her nimble fingers plucked at the string of those navy joggers, undoing the knot at the waist.Steve gave a grunt as she brushed his skin, still kissing her, hands where they were. Her palm was soft and warm as it wrapped around his hardening cock and he couldn’t help the moan the slipped from his mouth into hers.

Lips broke away from hers and landed on her jaw downward towards her neck as the hand from her hip coaxed its way towards her panties. Steve's hand dipped inside the material against her skin, past her mound. The tip of his middle finger brushed her clit and Katie shuddered. When his finger slipped between her dampening folds she sighed in a whimper combination.

Steve began to slowly curl his fingers as Katie started to move her wrist, both of them using an almost identical, slow rhythm.

"Fuck, doll," Steve hissed.

“Need you, Stevie…please…”

"I got you baby," Steve whispered in her ear.

“I know…” she pulled back a little to look at him, “you always do.”

"Come closer, sweetheart," he crooned.

Katie shuffled on his lap, a soft sigh flowing from her nose as his fingers were still inside her. Her legs were draped over his as she sat facing him, thighs either side of his slim waist.

"Thassit, doll," Steve responded. He fingers were palm deep inside her.

Their faces were inches apart, but Steve kept his eyes locked on his fiancée’s as her hips softly rolled into his touch. His own pelvis thrust into her palm as she tightened it around his cock.

Breaths mingled as Steve was bringing her close to orgasm, with just the touch of his fingers. He knew how to work her, get her to really feel good and sing for him.

Her little noises of pleasure were quiet, but still as arousing to the soldier as always. The way her eyes were wide and slightly glazed, blinks heavy was a sure sign she was teetering on that precipice.

"So good," Steve praised, his voice nothing but a soft baritone.

"Stevie..." Katie whimpered.

"Cum, beautiful," he crooned.

A few more rolls of her hips and Katie was shaking in his lap, her eyes wide, pupils blown as he felt her walls squeezing her fingers.

"Oh good girl, doll...."

She whimpered a little at his praise before her body sagged forward, head on his shoulder.

“Stevie…” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear.

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For loving me like you do.”

“Oh,Doll. I’ll love you till my last breath.” He kissed her cheek and then he moved a little so he could see her.

Her eyes were misty, her face flushed. He felt the lump form in his throat. She was so beautiful, so loving, tender. And she was all his.

Her hand still held him, but he didn't care. It wasn't about him, his desires. It was about his love, taking care of her. Helping her through.

The hand that filled her gently came away, slowing pulling out and covered her hand over his cock. He moved her hand and a look of confusion came over Katie's face.

"Not right now," he rasped. "Let's go home, take a bath and a nap."

“And snack.” She managed, “I’m kinda hungry. You mentioned a grilled cheese?”

“I did, yes.” Steve chuckled as he placed both his hands on her hips and helped her stand. With a sudden smirk, she reached down and pulled his tee on over her head and Steve arched a brow as she then picked up the shredded remains of her Lycra leggings. 

“You ripped em,” she shrugged.

Steve snorted as he too stood, pulling at the front of his pants a little before he grabbed Katie’s towel and water bottle. He then held out his hand for her to take.

“C’mon, Doll.”

With a smile she took it and let him lead her from the gym.

#kinktober 2022 #kinktober #stark spangled banner #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x original female character #Steve Rogers x Katie Stark #Steve rogers #marvel #marvel fan fic #mcu #mcc fan fic

[megamindsupremacy]

Misc Marvel Fic Recs (Part 6)

mistake on the part of nature by idiopathicsmile

Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face.

"Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas."

In which an American icon is mourned. But probably not the one you're thinking of.

-

The Ding Dong War by icewhisper

The year Hostess releases their limited edition Star Spangled Ding Dongs, they all suffer. (AKA no one should let Tony Stark have a credit card and history books never covered just how much of an asshole Steve Rogers really is.)

-

Look the Devil in the Face by prettybirdy979

It's increasingly becoming a world where the unbelievable happens every day. The Avengers team includes a defrosted World War Two solider, a giant green rage monster and a man who might be a God; and they battle aliens and magic on a regular basis. It's not too far fetched to believe the Devil walks Hell's Kitchen.

Matt, on the other hand, hasn't realised exactly why his new battle buddies seem terrified of him. It's not like they've even heard the rumors about him being the Devil... right?

-

Not Easily Conquered by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFears

In 1945, Steve Rogers jumps from a nosediving plane and swims through miles of Arctic Ocean to a frozen shore.

In 1947, Steve Rogers marries Peggy Carter.

In 1966, the New York Times finds the lost letters of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

-

the stone's in the midst of it all by tognia

Sarah Rogers was born to fight an unwinnable war. She wonders how it could be, sometimes, that she gives birth to a boy who does not understand defeat.

-

and there will be music despite everything (sw/mcu au) by QueenWithaBeeThrone

She imagines it--waking up alone, scared, disoriented, not knowing who or where she is, terrified at every little thing. She imagines never knowing for sure. “Yeah, real lucky,” she echoes.

“Wish I felt that way,” says Foster.

or: Darcy Lewis, intern to Anakin Skywalker, not that either of them know that last part, and the time before they hit a man with their van.

-

Barnes and Rogers and the Goddamn Truth by orphan_account

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

How to Woo the Winter Soldier by writeonclara

“I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said.

“What,” Natasha said.

“What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier.

“Steve, no,” Clint groaned.

Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

-

Embrace the Fire: The Avenger Games by lorata

Trust me, and I'll give you something better than a Mockingjay. I'll give you the Avengers."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Trust me, and you'll see."

Non-powered alternate universe fusion: the Avengers in Panem.

-

devil's gonna follow me (wherever i go) by Lyaka

The man who used to be Bucky Barnes lined up his shot. His finger twitched, only once, very precisely.

Help me, the bullet sang.

Ninety-eight floors below him, the bullet glanced off a vibranium shield with a musical ping.

And Steve Rogers looked up.

-

the sirens and the thunder by letege

“Hide that,” he says, forcing the words out past every instinct. “As well as you can, all right? Before morning.”

Steve stares at him blankly, like he needs a moment to work this out, then swallows once, sharply. "What's your name?" he asks at last—asks as he stands there with the pelt in his hands.

And oh, he thinks suddenly, what is his name? He can’t speak it, not with this mouth, he can’t sing it into the air like he can in the ocean. He just shakes his head; like his nakedness, it’s something he can't explain. Steve nods, just nods, his eye swelling shut and blood drying on his shirt collar, and says "we’ll figure it out."

(An AU where Bucky is a young selkie who is accidentally called to Steve and ends up staying around to help this poor, wretched kid not die.)

#mads posts #fic recs #marvel fic recs #marvel fic rec list #fic rec list

[steverogers-wife]

Avengers x Scottish!OC (Part 2)

Summary: Fletcher Collins is a high level S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She is an incredibly skilled fighter, hacker, and has never missed a shot. The only thing she struggles with however, is people understanding what the hell she's saying. Set in 2020, Thanos never happened.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton.

Warnings: Language

Part 1 | Part 2

Fletchers POV

Walking out of the meeting room, I try to think what in the hell Fury is trying to do. I've been working under the wraps for S.H.I.E.L.D. trying to take down HYDRA for years now, and these Avengers are comin' in tryna steal the show. Whenever I find a base, I usually take it out with my own team but if theres hostages then I get Fury to leave it with the Avengers.

But now, after years of my time and dedication, i've been ordered, me, ordered, to work alongside them to take HYDRA down. Granted my team has lost people along the way, but we were doing just fine, I didn't need a goddam boy band of fuck-ups coming in tellin' me what to do.

"Agent Collins!", I hear the oh-so-righteous Captain from behind me, and judging by the many footsteps I hear, the other misfits aren't far behind.

I stop, hanging my head. After briefly contemplating my decisions in life, I turn around to face them, raising my eyebrow waiting for one of them to speak.

"Captain Steve Rogers, its a pleasure ma'am", he says, extending his hand for what I can only assume is a handshake and not something with less physical contact.

I glance down at his hand and back up at his face, he awkwardly brings his hand back to his side as he continues. "We'll be having a meeting to discuss future plans tomorrow, we'd love if you could join us and bring anything you have on HYDRA with you so we can all get on the same page." He finishes kindly with a sickly sweet smile.

I role my eyes although they couldn't see from behind my sunglasses. "No."

He looks slightly confused as he asks, "No? W-what do you mean 'no'"

"I mean exactly what I said Captain, no." I say plainly to the 'man with a plan', being sure to speak slower and dull down my accent so they can understand what i'm saying, "This is my mission, you work with me, not the other way around. There will be a meeting in the compound in room 4A2 at 8am exactly. If anyone's a minute late we reschedule. I will be giving you the information I believe you need, not everything, and I will be telling you about your next mission. Now Spangles, do you and your boy band need anything else?"

I finish my sentence and look towards the group, who are all staring at me wide eyed until Stark speaks up.

"Ok, am I the only one who understood none of that? I mean come on"

I scowl at the man, turning on my heel and walking away.

Avengers POV

"Damn, Cap got told", Sam mutters to himself.

"Are we actually going to do as she says?" Wanda questions hesitantly.

"I don't think we have a choice, she's the one who knows the most about HYDRA", the man in tights sighs.

"She seems like a massive asshole i'm gonna be honest", the changed Winter Solider says.

"Yeah and you were and still are a huge asshole before we got to know you, I think its best if we all do what she says, we can question it all later." the knock-off Robin Hood declares to the group.

"Is anyone else wondering how she knows so much about HYDRA? Fury said himself she used to be a top S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, maybe she was a part of HYDRA", the red head ex-spy claims.

The group ponders over her claim, thinking that maybe, she could be right.

The Next Day, Avengers Compound

Fletcher POV

I reorganise the files on the meeting table, all for the Avengers next mission. I glance down at my fathers watch on my right wrist.

7:56am.

If any of them are even a minute late then they'll be going into the mission blind. Honestly not my problem. Oh wait! Fury made it my problem. After all, i'll be leading the missions. I hear a knock on the door.

"Morning ma'am", the Captain greets with the same smile he had yesterday.

"Mornin', just call me Collins", I say the man.

"Oh, r-right sorry ma'- uhh Collins", he stutters, turning a slight pink shade and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Where's everyone else?", I question, finally looking up from the files.

"They'll be here now, well I hope anyway. I just wanted to see how you plan to do this?", he asks, glancing back at the door hoping his teammates will appear soon.

"You'll find out when everyone else is here Spangles, please take a seat." He nods, going to sit at the head of the table. "What are ya doin'?" He looks up me.

"Uhh, sitting down?", he says in a questioning tone.

"No i'm sittin' there, i'm runnin' the meeting", I claim in a bored tone, placing one file down and reaching for another.

"Oh uhh, right yeah sorry", he chuckles nervously.

Steve Rogers POV

I sit next to the head of the table, nervously fiddling with my fingers. After about a year or two out of the ice, I realised I never loved Peggy, not truly, it was more about someone giving me attention I had never received from a woman before. It was obsession. Nat has tried setting me up with women but it just never seemed right. I never knew what my type was, but for the first time since Peggy, i've found myself attracted to a woman. I didn't even think someone like Collins would ever interest me, but i've found myself wanting to get to know her more, wanting to work with her. She's gorgeous, smart, and clearly knows how to deal with people easily.

"You're starin'", she says breaking me out of my thoughts. I realised I had been. Watching as she analysed her work.

"N-no I wasn't, was just starin' into space", I mutter, embarrassed I had been caught and was such an awful liar. She looks up from her file and goes to say something, but a knock at the door interrupts her.

"Come in", she says in her strong yet angelic voice.

The rest of the Avengers walk in and sit down, my watch reads 07:58. I don't think i've ever been so glad to see them all, breaking the awkward tension beginning to form in the room.

"So, now that everyones here, we shall begin"

#steve rogers #avengers #marvel #bucky barnes #tony stark #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #bruce banner #peter parker #sam wilson #scottish character #orginal character

[siremasterlawrence]

Captain America: On The Hunt

Part 1 - 2

Captain America is at the home base Stark Tower when the lights turning on and off.

He quickly jumps up alert at all the crazy and unhinged bullshit that is occurring.

He stood up unable to find his mask and then he stiffens up grabbing his shield.

He slips out of the room taking root of the problem when a shadowy figure passes,

“Holt! I said to holt” he says putting his hand out to stop but they avoid him.

Captain makes it to the staircase to see the unbelievable happen as he leaps off of the staircase.

He falls down feet feet landing on on the base floor and he heads out.

Steve sighs, rolling his eyes and follows him as he stands on the rail and leaps off to the second floor.

Steve just the floor running dashing in one limb jumps he cracks through the window.

He falls to floors on to the mainland ground where he awaits the mysterious figure.

Part 3 -4

The young man comes face to face with the legendary Man Out Of Time in all his glory.

He holds his shield out blocking me from even trying to escape and leaps over him.

Doing a open black flip landing on his feet in super hero style and he freaks out.

Doing a stretch he throws a super swing of his arm sending the shield flying.

He goes flying in to the wall, my body jumps in to the air and I kick it back.

“Who are you fiend?” Steve yells pushing his legs in a effort.

“Damn this is stuck” he yells kicking his shield harder.

“What the fuck? You freak” Steve states ins fiery rage managing to wiggle free.

“I am taking you in.” Steve Rogers swears heading down the road after me.

Part 5 - 7

Steve Rogers is at all time level of anger in him festering out of control.

Steve throws his shield in return I do another back flip capturing it in my hand.

I race to wall, dig my feet in to it and press down till I push outward.

My body propels at Steve with a shield tightly grasp in my hand punch him.

My feet now firmly planted in the ground are burning with a fiery edge like none other.

Steve tumbles to the ground in disbelief at all that is happening to him.

“State the reason for your visit.” He demands to know.

“What do you mean? I came for you” the young man said leaving him floored.

Steve makes one last ditched effort to stand up straight once more again.

Steve kicks him back to the dirty ground in a final moment of succession.

“Bring the thunder.” He says to me digging his feet in.

“Fuck you Rogers.” The young man states to him using the shield.

He knocks him out, he is flailing on the floor and he is unconscious.

He drags him out off of the street into Stark Tower.

Now the newly named Avengers Tower is all mine.

“Fat chance that will happen you Star spangled fool.” I fight back.

Part 8 - 10

“Rise Captain America”

“Yes Sir”

“Place these in your ears”

“I only do as you command”

“Honestly it’s embarrassing”

“What is?”

“The way I acted before”

“Always trying to stop you”

“Make you the villain”

“I am so sorry “

“Aaaaahhhhhhhh”

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, Master Lawrence”

“I am blank and obedient”

“Make use of me, your humble soldier”

The end

#Master Lawrence 4 Ever.

[daddy-dotcom]

Peter's (Grand)Mom Has Got it Goin on

Rating: T

Warnings: Language! Suggestive themes

Summary: After going through one of his grandmother’s diaries, Peter Quill learned some interesting information about his grandmother and her connection to Steve Rogers. Enjoy this short confrontation between Peter and the Star-Spangled man himself about that fateful night in 1943.

——————————————————————————

Peter Quill always loved stories. As a little boy, his grandma used to tell him stories all the time. Some were real, like the time she burnt the Thanksgiving turkey, and some were fake, like when she told him that she traded 5 magic beans for a grandson. But there were some stories that he wasn’t sure were real or fake, like the time his grandmother met Captain America. Over the years, the stories started to fade and blend together, so Quill wrote them off as tall tales that his grandma told to entertain him. All of that changed when he found his grandma’s diary.

Quill hadn’t been to earth since his mother passed away. But after having contact with Tony Stark and Dr. Strange, who are also from hearth, he asked them to keep tabs on his aging grandmother while he handled things in space. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before someone contacted Quill with bad news. His grandma had passed in her sleep during the blip, so he decided to go alone and make a short trip to earth to pay his respects. His first stop was his grandma’s old home in Missouri, where he spent his childhood making cookies and listening to her famous stories. He began looking around the house reminiscing about his life before leaving earth. Since he was her only grandson, it was up to him to start going through her things. He decided to start in her room since that’s where she kept most of the valuable items.

While rummaging through her dresser, he mostly found old jewelry that wasn’t very valuable, but he did decide to keep a couple things. He found his grandma’s Christmas broach, which he decided to keep since he had fond memories of spending the holidays with her. The other item he held onto was a necklace with an M on it, which he assumed his grandmother kept after his mom had passed away. In one drawer, he found old photo albums, some with pictures of his mom as a little girl, some with Peter as a kid, and even some of his grandma when she was young. In this same drawer, he found what looked like a couple of old books with her writing inside. He picked up one of her diaries and started flipping through the pages. There were stories about how she met his grandpa and even some about his mom. As he flipped through one of the diaries from her twenties, he landed on a page from the year 1943. What caught his eye was the fact that the story she told about meeting Captain America was, in fact, true. She wrote about how she took a train to watch him at the USO show in St. Louis, but as he kept reading, he found some details about that night that he wished he never read. He quickly shut the diary and put it back in the drawer. Quill also took one of the photos of his grandma from the photo album and decided that he needed to make one more stop while he was still on earth.

——————————————————————————

Quill arrived at the Avenger’s compound with a bone to pick with Steve Rogers. He knew he was one of the Avengers, so he figured their compound was a good place to start. Peter walked up to the intercom and shouted “Steve Rogers I know you’re in there!” and stared up at the security camera with both middle fingers up.

“Quill, what’s this about?” Steve said in an exasperated voice over the intercom speaker.

“This is about my grandma!“ Peter yelled. After a few seconds of silence, he heard the door open and he began to walk angrily down the hall. He made his way up a flight of stairs and into a giant room with floor to ceiling glass windows. Here, in this room, he spotted Steve waiting for him.

“You fucked my grandma!” Peter said while pointing a finger at him.

“I did what?”

“You heard me Mr. America, you fucked my grandma.”

“First of all, it’s Captain, and second of all Quill, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I was going through some of my Nana’s things after I heard she passed and I found one of her diaries. In 1943 she claimed she had a ‘magical’ night with Captain America and that she popped his cherry if you catch my drift” Quill said before angrily slamming a photo of his grandma Lottie on the table.

Cap picked the photo up to get a better look. It took him a moment, but as soon as he saw her smile, everything clicked.

Shocked by this revelation, Steve looked to Peter and said “Lottie is your grandmother?”

“You know her name! I knew it, you did fuck my grandma!”

“Would you relax?” Steve said in annoyance. “And stop saying that!” He took a pause before continuing.

“Yes, I was…involved with your grandma. We met when she came to the St. Louis show on the USO tour and I only asked to grab a drink. But one thing led to another and….what she said is true, she was the first woman I ever slept with. I kept touring and eventually went onto the front lines, and into the ice after that, so we never crossed paths again. But that was a long time ago, Quill. From what I can tell, she had kids and a grandson, which is a life I don’t think I could’ve given her at the time.”

Peter could hear the sincerity in Steve’s voice, which caused his expression to soften.

“Yeah I mean, she did marry my grandpa eventually. And trust me, he was a lot cooler than you. Look man, I’m sorry I barged in here all angry trying to punch you in the face and stuff. I guess I just didn’t wanna think of my Nana in that way.”

Steve chuckled under his breath before replying. “It's okay Quill, I understand and I’m sorry for your loss. She was a sweet lady and you were lucky to have her in your life.”

“Yea she was the best. And I’m sorry too, about Tony.”

Steve gave him a solemn nod.

“Well I really should be getting back to my ship, but take care Cap,” said Peter.

“Thanks, Quill. Just stay out of your grandmother’s diaries alright” Steve said with a smirk.

“Oh trust me Cap, that’s the last time I go through her personal stuff.”

Peter left back down the hallway and Steve watched from the window as the Q-ship took off into the sky.

“Well well well…” Bruce said entering the room, “looks like our American hero isn’t as clean cut as we thought.”

Steve, while slightly embarrassed, let out a laugh before replying. “So you heard all that huh Banner?”

Bruce gave him a shrug and said “don’t worry Cap, your secret’s safe with me.” He was true to his word…that was until his cousin Jennifer got it out of him during their stay in Mexico.

#captain america #steve rogers #she hulk #the avengers #avengers endgame #jennifer walters #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #peter quill #chris evans #guardians of the galaxy #gamora #avengers infinity war #steve rogers virgin #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic

[what-is-your-plan-today]

So this… I see this…and I instantly think Rori Rogers.

So I wrote a one shot…and I kinda like it. So I might publish it tomorrow…

“Rori? Aurora? What are you-“

He stopped dead in the doorway between the kitchen and large pantry and blinked. Rori was sat on the counter side, having pulled half of the tinned foot stuffs Katie kept in one of the cupboards out and had liberated them of their labels.

“Hi daddy.” She grinned at him, as she flicked a label from a can of kidney beans off her finger.

#what the stark spangled fuck #stark spangled #Steve Rogers x ofc

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

One Shot- Pine-O-Lantern

Summary- Rori needs her dads help with fulfilling a scrapbook dream. 

Warnings- Probably a swear somewhere. 

A/N- so this is part of @what-is-your-backupplan-today​‘s SSB verse that I am dabbling in. She’s sick, so she was able to convince me to take a few thoughts and make it into something more. Also apparently I’m like Steve and unable to say ‘No’. (No worries, she really didn't twist my arm or anything, I was more then happy to do it. Much Love Always.) 

Steve Roger’s Masterlist

“You want me to do what Rori?” Katie held the knife steady, just about to cut into the pineapple for the pineapple upside down cake when her daughter came streaking in the room, yelling ‘STOP!’ 

“Carve the pineapple Mommy, like this.” picking up her scrapbook, she flipped to a picture of a glowing carved pineapple. Turning it so Katie could see, Katie resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. Knowing Rori wouldn't let it go till she got her pineapple. Then she grinned, knowing just what to do. 

“You know what, Halloween is Daddy’s holiday.” She handed the pineapple to Rori. “Take your book and this to him and show him what you want.” 

Bright eyed and excited, Rori cradled her pineapple like a baby, marching through the house. “DADDY!” 

Katie decided that her cake could wait, and poured herself a glass of wine as a reward for a well thought out plan. She was quick to take her glass and escape upstairs, knowing Steve was in the study working on a project for his class. Katie winced almost sympathetically when she heard Rori yell for her father again. 

Steve was at his desk when he heard Rori yelling his name. Not once but twice, and then she burst into the room like the diva she was. “Daddy, I need your help.” Steve shifted his chair to look around the computer monitor to arch a brow at his child. 

Oh fuck… why does she have a pineapple and the crapbook? Steve held a baited breath while beckoning Rori over and picked her up to perch on his lap while she carefully set her pineapple on the desk. “Baby, why do you have a pineapple?” 

“I want you to carve it Daddy.” She was quick to open her book and searched the pages for something. 

“Like you want to eat some Princess? Because Mom was going to make a cake out of this one for tonight.” Steve tried to make sense of it, his face twisting slightly in confusion when Rori paused on a page and pointed it out to him, there on some faraway beach thousands of miles from there New York home was a pineapple with a carved face. 

“No, like this. Please Daddy. I NEED it. It's so pretty.” Rori said wistfully as she looked at it. 

“You want me to carve it like the jack o lanterns from Halloween...” Steve sighed out, trying to calculate how long it would take him. He really needed to finish his project for his students today and still had a few hours to go to pull it all together  

“Yup! I asked Mommy, but she said to ask you. That it was your holiday.” Rori chirped back, and twisted to look at Steve with the biggest pleading eyes, and of course he couldn't talk his way out of this with the argument that it wasn't Halloween any longer. Or tell Rori no, she really had him wrapped around his little finger. His girl wanted a face on a pineapple, then he would give her one.  

“Wait till I see Mommy.” Steve muttered under his breath before giving a smile, and winking at Rori. “Let’s go to the kitchen Princess.” He scooped her into the crook of his arm, and handed her the crap book and the pineapple. 

It was a good twenty minutes before Katie decided to come out of hiding with her emptied wine glass. When she poked her head around the corner, she could see Steve standing at the counter with the pineapple in his hand, carefully carving out a mouth while Rori sat next to him with her book propped in her lap, directing her father on how much of a curve the mouth needed. “Just a little more, yes good! Okay, two teeth daddy, not one, not three, two.” 

Steve was patient as he answered. “Two, got it Princess, do we need a nose to?” 

Rori studied her picture and shook her head. “Nope, but it needs tri-langle eyes.” 

“Got it.” Steve informed her, and Katie took her chances to sidle up to Steve’s side and took a peek at his work. “Where you been hiding Doll?” He smirked as he popped out an eye and Katie shrugged. 

“Around.” She said when she caught sight of the rest of the pineapple, gasping. “Steve, I cant use this to make a cake now.” She pulled the bowel closer. The pineapple was shredded from where he scooped it out. 

“Yea, there was no saving it. We got a can of Dole’s in the cupboard.” Steve popped out the last eye and fit the top back on while sitting it on the counter and Rori scooted over closer to lean in close, studying her new prized pineapple. “Or I can run to the store for another one later.” 

“Daddy, he is perfect.” Rori hugged Steve's neck, and he one armed hugged her back to keep from getting her sticky with pineapple juice. “Be right back.” Rori hopped onto the chair and slid off to disappear around the island for a moment. 

Katie set aside the bowl and sighed. “I guess I could use the tinned stuff, but its not the same... “ She started when they both heard the fridge open and the adults turned to see Rori coming back with a cantaloupe in her arms now. 

“Okay Daddy, let's carve this one now. With star eyes and four teeth.” 

Both Steve and Katie shook their head in a ‘no’, saying simultaneously. “No more, one’s enough.”

#what the stark spangled fuck #stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #katie stark #rori rogers and her damn pineapple will always be hilarious

[thegoldenavenger]

guess who watched given and immediately had to shove tony waist-deep into this fucking thing because [they forgot they already ”wrote” this au]

it’s me

unedited as always, light spoilers for given if you havent seen that and wanted to. 

anyways, tony stark is the high profile son of a business mogul based in LA because the mcu loves giving tony centric plot points to howard stark industries is capitalizing on the silicone valley fever.  after a major manic episode tony uproots his life and goes to school in new york, as far as he can physically move away from his stifling family and the pressure. 

tony’s done with building robots for his father’s business, he’s done being manipulated by the adults in his life and he abandons everything from the stark life.  he picks up a guitar, learns how to play it, and never looks back. 

tony finds he likes the life of a garage band.  he glides through classes and focuses on his fingering (not that kind) and absent-mindedly writing down notes for songs he doesn’t really think he’ll write. He really likes being that guy, bringing out a guitar and everyone groans but people request songs anyways.  besides, he’s never really been a fan of wonderwall. 

of course he plays piano, it was that or violin and his dad thought strings were for girls. he’s used to playing in front of a crowd, stiff collared and sweating under the calculating gazes of his parents’ party guests. just another new trick to show off. 

there’s something so indescribably different about playing guitar under cheap lights in a garage, the casually gathered crowd gaining interest and beer and his fingers feel like splitting over the strings of his instrument.  The noise, the whine as he coaxes his guitar to sing, amplified through speakers that thump with his bassist’s steady beat and he can feel the sweat slick down his back making his shirt sticky. 

tony’s lucky to have met the bandmates he had.  Pepper’s a riot on the drums and Rhodey is tony’s constant, reliable bassist and both of them have deigned to take him under their wing even if he’s less experienced and more annoying then they should have to deal with.  Being able to play with them, it’s more than tony could’ve asked for. 

he’s happy with his life, which is why he’s a little less than pleased when he runs into a short, scrawny blond holding a guitar with white knuckled fingers.  tony runs into him, and the boy jolts violently, the guitar slipping the grip like he’d tossed it. it’s a nice guitar, so tony instinctively reaches out for it. 

“why are you keeping the snapped strings on like this?” he asks, taking the chance to inspect the guitar. 

“Give it back.” The boy says. well, demands. Tony does nothing of the sort. Instead he straightens it out and sights down the fret board. 

“it’s a nice guitar, but leaving your strings like this is a bit--”

“I said: give it back!” 

The boy’s grip is surprisingly strong for someone so small, tony thinks distantly.

“Okay! No need to bite my head off about it,” He lets go of the guitar, but doesn’t leave quite yet.  “Look, these will work to replace those...” Tony digs in his bag for a second, taking out an unopened pack of his own replacement strings. Maybe not the exact match, but they’d do well enough. “Get them done as soon as you can, it’s a shame to see something that nice look like that.” 

He gives the packet of strings away and leaves. 

Tony doesn’t think much of this incident.  But he guesses he made more of an impact than he thought because now he’s been ambushed by the same blond boy.  

“Look, I can’t figure out how to change the string. Just show me!” 

“Can’t you, I don’t know? Youtube it or something?” Tony asks. 

“Don’t be an ass! I just--” Tony notices how startlingly blue the boy’s eyes are as he glares to the side. “I can’t undue the pins.”

It feels like pulling teeth, the way the words force their way past the kid’s lips. Like he’s spitting out something bad, admitting that he can’t do something. 

“I don’t have the right tools and I--I don’t want to break it more.” 

His fingers grip the guitar awkwardly, and Tony knows that kid hasn’t played even one chord before.  Probably hasn’t played even a guitar themed rhythm game with how unbalanced he’s holding the body.  

Tony rubs the back of his neck.  

“God, I don’t know why I tried!”

“It’s fine--” Tony blinks as he cut into the kid’s frustrated venom.  

“It’s fine,” he starts again, “I’ll help. Here.” He holds his hand out and is handed the guitar very reluctantly. 

He remembers his first snapped string. The shock, the sharp sting as it flicked against his hand.  But learning to play guitar was painful.  From the blisters to the muscle aches, the endurance. He finds himself smiling. 

He narrates what he does, his hands gliding over the sleek body of the guitar.  “See, you need to keep track of the pins. it’s easier with tools, I can lend you these ones I have an extra set. My name is Tony.” He shifts the guitar so he’s holding it properly, plucking a string and adjusting the peg.

“What? What are you doing?”

“Listen,” He says, as he twists a peg.  The blond gets that look on his face again, the squinty one with angry eyebrows.  Tony laughs, and strums the guitar. 

The chord comes out sharp and clear. 

“There you go, it’s all fixed.” 

Tony thinks it should be the last he sees of him.  Tony’s pretty sharp, so he noticed the graphite smudges on his fingers and the large portfolio on his hip. An art student.  There’s no reason to cross paths again when Tony’s classes are all music based and he should probably start paying rent for how often he’s fallen asleep in the computer labs.  

But apparently that kid isn’t finished with Tony. 

“Teach me to play this.”

Tony blinks. 

“I don’t even know your name.”

“If I tell you, will you teach me to play?”

Tony shrugs. 

“It’s Steve.”

Tony tries walking away. It’s not very effective. 

He can’t really dodge Steve, and finds himself followed all the time now.  Honestly, tony would be a little flattered if Steve didn’t look like he was swallowing a lemon every time Tony catches a glance at his face. 

To be fair, Tony is kind of relishing the attention.  He complains to Rhodey and Pepper and they both roll their eyes at him before they start jamming. It’s after one of these jams that he runs into Steve again. 

He’s standing outside the door, his face with angry looking eyebrows but his eyes watery. His face is red, he doesn’t have a jacket and Tony is getting reacquainted with the cold himself now that he’s let himself out of the steaming jam room. 

“Teach me how to play like that!” 

Tony tries ignoring him, but Steve is determined to follow him, even through the cold, dry night. Even when his breath hitches and his voice turns reedy.  

“Teach me! Teach-- Te--” Steve starts gasping every other breath and Tony spins around.  Steve’s flushed cheeks from the cold have drained away and now he’s pale, pale, pale. 

“Steve!” Tony stops, right there, his hands hovering over Steve like concerned birds, unsure where to touch. Steve looks, if possible, angrier than ever, still trying to speak even while gasping. 

“Please, Steve shut up!” Tony puts his hands over Steve’s mouth, he doesn’t know what to do. “I’ll teach you, or whatever, just! Do you have an inhaler or something?” 

Steve points to his bag, and after Tony is done rifling through it and hands Steve his uncovered rescue inhaler, he’s grinning the smarmiest grin someone having an asthma attack can possibly muster. 

Tony finds himself feeling distinctly played.  He doesn’t mind it as much as he should. 

Steve is an incredibly stubborn student and Tony is perhaps not the most patient teacher.  He grabs Steve’s hands more than once to force them into the right position and demands he try again, and again, and again.  It almost gives him flash backs, but Steve almost dares him to be less than serious about the lessons.  Like it would kill Steve if Tony treated him the least bit kindly. 

Tony brings him to his and Rhodey’s and Pepper’s jam sessions.  He grins and points and says “this is how a real rock star does it,” and plays with a loose fluidity he hasn’t felt in a while.  He sees Steve’s foot tapping and grins widely, like he’s won something.  He feels like he won something.

Steve learns the chords and how to read tabs and even how to restring his own guitar, though Tony finds himself doing it more often then not.  There’s something really endearing about the ferocious way Steve devotes himself to learning guitar.  

They sit next to each other, out of class but on campus.  Tony is demonstrating a fingerstyle more suited to an acoustic guitar even though Steve is learning on an electric. It sounds like shit, but they’re both grinning anyways.  

“Then what kind of music do you like?” Tony asks, shaking out his hand. 

“Just, you know. Stuff.”

“Come on, you have a favorite song, everyone does!” Tony says, blustering. “You already know what I like.”

“I wonder...” Steve says, trailing off. He stares into the middle distance for long enough that Tony is about to laugh to break the sudden tension and switch topics but Steve interrupts him. 

“It’s like...” and he humms something, his hand doing half-aborted conductions as he feels his way through a tune. He trails off and looks into Tony’s startled face.

“Did you, did you write that?”

“Not, I mean, not really. That’s just what came to mind.”

“Freestyle, just now?!” 

Tony can’t tear out his notebook fast enough, transposing the notes steve had hummed onto the page. Steve finally looks something other than stubbornly angry or determined as Tony pries him for another verse, to repeat this melody, to hum that again.

For once, Steve finds himself following along with Tony, watching as his hand rushes to keep up with their conversation, as the notes spill across the page and Tony grabs his guitar half way through to pick his way through half written melodies. 

Tony’s dark hair is short, relatively speaking. It curls at his neck. But his dark, dark eyes are the same and his eyelashes sweep against his cheek as he leans over to check his fingering on the fret. He’s sitting cross legged and when he looks up to grin at Steve, Steve is already walking away. 

“He’s a genius!” Tony starts as he barrels into the jam room. 

“Ohoh?” Rhodey laughs and Pepper dutifully plays the rim shot as Tony slides his carry case off his shoulder.

“I’m not kidding, look, listen!” he demands

tony does his damndest to get steve to write songs for the band.  he reaches out and compliments him and buys him lunch, and new pencils, and compliments him some more and well, he’s out of practice with the whole shmoozing thing now. it’s fun though, and tony thinks steve at least enjoys the attention. 

at least steve enjoys the attention enough to keep brainstorming with tony as they go through their guitar lessons.  steve has a certain way of composing, tony notices.  he pulls notes from the air that tony wouldn’t choose, but it compliments the way he and rhodey and pepper play.  still, tony can’t help but think the notes are being written for someone else. 

tony knows this life can’t go on the way it has been.  He’s been expecting a shoe to drop for years now. but he’d been preparing for his father to fly in and tie him back down to the californian mansion, or maybe someone from his past coming in to wreck his life. 

he’d been a mess before the move. even after it.  he’s always expected it to catch up, or for his touch to ruin the good things in his life now.  between being half in love with the three people who care about him, and spending too long hoping three thousand miles was enough distance to outrun his past, tony knew his number would be coming up soon enough. 

at least he’d been happy for a while. truly, genuinely happy. 

he was the son of a household name, popular in the tabloids for getting in trouble, and the internet was forever he’d been told.  so he was prepared for the past to come up. 

He had just been expecting it to be his past to come knocking. 

bucky barnes is tall, broad, and missing one arm. he’d be impossible to miss and yet somehow tony didn’t notice six feet of pure american beef stalking across the campus. it must be the arm, or lack of arm. maybe how he kind of hunches down to hide it? 

He approaches with only the sound of boots to announce his presence and Tony looks up startled, but it’s only Steve this man has eyes for.

“That my guitar, Stevie?” 

Steve has kind of locked up, his fingers white against their grip on the guitar. His face is turned away, but Tony can see the tenseness of his thin shoulders.  Tony isn’t good for much, but he’s not gonna sit back while Steve faces whatever this is on his own. 

“Well, I don’t see you playing it anytime soon.” Tony says. 

It’s like shattering a mirror, the moment Tony sees the threads holding Steve snap.  He looks at Tony with something like disgust as he jolts to standing. “I’m sorry,” he says, before bolting. 

He leaves the guitar behind. Tony knows it wasn’t him that Steve was apologizing to.

“Was it something I said?” Tony asks the air. 

Tony doesn’t know his name yet, but Bucky Barnes takes the seat across from him.  

“Might’ve been me.” he says, like a confession. 

turns out bucky barnes and steve might’ve been a thing. tony finds out through less than reputable means, but bucky says himself steve feels guilty about the accident that led to bucky’s hospitalization and amputation.  

he used to play guitar

the one tony’s been thinking of as steve’s.  

bucky’s hand is callused the way a working man’s is.  If tony tried he could probably find the places strings wore at until they hardened, but tony doesn’t try.  he can imagine well enough.  like he can imagine the summers spent listening to guitar plucked on windowsills or whatever sickeningly cute domestic childhood things steve and bucky got up to

and, because tony’s never been one to let himself go without a good rubbing in, he’s found a couple ancient recording on the internet of bucky’s old high school recitals.  he can hear the strings of bucky’s guitar through the tinny audio and though and suddenly he knows just who’s fingers the notes for steve’s song was meant for.

tony won’t let steve go without a fight. whether the songs were meant for him to play or not, tony wants to play them.  he wants the chance.  so he drags bucky into the band whether anyone wants that or not. 

bucky can’t play the guitar--right now, tony suspects with enough research and bugging of that cute radiophyscist that could change--but he still wants to reconnect with steve and it’s easy enough to use that to tony’s advantage.  bucky’s kind of a puppy once you get past the six feet some inches and what seems like solid muscle. 

tony takes him aside one day, with his guitar and set him down. “listen,” he says, and plays the skeleton of the song steve had been helping write. 

bucky blinks, recognition in his eyes and tony nods as he plays.  bucky gets it, tony thinks.  steve is supposed to be writing these songs.  he’s good at it, in a way that tony thinks he used to be good at things. like he was creating something worthwhile. 

“this is steve’s?” bucky asks, softly. tony doesn’t have to answer him.  “I remember. it’s familiar like... hmm, how did it go...” bucky’s hand twitches like his fingers want to find a fret board. “like... i never liked the winter / the cold never leaves soon enough / and i’m tired of waiting / for the sun to call your bluff... something like that...” 

Tony’s fingers have stopped strumming, and he stares at Bucky with widened eyes. 

“what?” Bucky asks and Tony whips his arms out, gripping Bucky’s shoulders as if to stop him from bolting.

“you can sing. no one told me you could sing.”

“well, it’s nothing much.”

“No, shut up.  it’s amazing. you have to sing with us.”

It’s almost harder than convincing steve to write with him was. but eventually tony has all his pieces lined up.  steve writing songs, bucky singing. him, pepper and rhodey doing all the hard work. 

tony can sing, but he’s never been drawn to it the way he had been with playing guitar.  RIP to his father’s weird brand of masculinity, but tony just liked strings. Still, he knew enough to help bucky strengthen his voice. to sharpen his consonants and find where his head voice and chest voices lie.  

he plays scales on the guitar and leads bucky through vocal exercises.  It’s like working on fingerwork with steve, only bucky’s got less of a temper.  He’s surprisingly earnest, taking criticism easily and turning around with the proper work.  tony almost feels out of depth with the ease he has coaching bucky.  

where steve would shove and huff and yell when he didn’t get something right, bucky would nod and clear his throat and ask questions before trying again.  steve would roll his eyes and grab tony’s card so he could pay for his half of the lunch. bucky would smile that half smile and thank tony when he picked up the tab. 

it was cute. 

or, well. 

tony makes steve play the scales for bucky and spends a couple weeks jamming with just the band.  he’s rusty, he says, too much teaching means not enough practicing.  bucky seems understanding if melancholy and steve’s face is stubborn as always. 

it’s while all of them are in the jam room that pepper announces they have a gig in two months.  

“it’s a good opportunity to debut some of the new songs we’re working on.” she says. 

“we should start doing group practices at least twice a week,” rhodey says, narrowing his eyes at tony.  

“ah, we don’t actually have lyrics for most of our songs.” tony says, haphazardly. 

“we have some, you can teach bucky those. or you can sing them like always,” pepper says, brightly. 

Bucky seems to perk up, catching tony’s eye. “you have songs?” 

“nothing that special,” tony says. 

“I’d like to learn them with you,” bucky replies. tony blinks. 

“two months is enough time to write lyrics.” steve asserts. “bucky and i have been working on them anyways.” 

“okay.” tony finds himself agreeing with the rest of them. 

They spend some times going through their set list.  Pepper and rhodey bring up some songs they like that bucky and steve will need to learn. they rearrange the order to accommodate the new song steve and bucky have been working on. 

tony bites his lips.  it’s perfect.  steve writing songs for his band. bucky singing in his band.  pepper and rhodey, perfect and constant.  tony’s hands on the neck of his guitar. it’s as perfect as it can get. 

tony’s glad that the impending deadline is at least forcing steve and bucky to come head to head.  he doesn’t know what happened exactly, to drive a wedge between the two in the first place. he doesn’t want to ask. he doesn’t want to know. but being forced to volley lyric timing and melodies back and forth is eating away at the distance between them. 

it’s also driving home the fact that tony’s the last thing on either of their minds.  he can hear it in the chords he picks out, that steve has written for someone else’s hands. and even though he isn’t going to school for literature he can read symbolism when the lyrics are as plain as what bucky’s been mumbling under his breath for hours now. 

“i thought you were done marching to someone else’s tune.” pepper says to him as steve drags bucky through another practice. 

tony shrugs his shoulders. “i think... i think i’m happy we’re all here. together. i think this is happier than i’ve ever been.” he looks down at his hands.  he’s got the calluses from guitar blisters like every other wanna be rock star, but his hands are rough for other reasons.  his knuckles littered with scars from welding, his thumb and forefinger smooth in the places he’d strip wires.  there’s a burn on his palm from touching something that hadn’t quite cooled.  

he might’ve loved building once. that could have been his life. but he’s sure he would have missed out on this: real friends, who cared about him. who wanted to play with him.  he’s not sure he would have had that, if he’d stayed.  

it’s happier than he thinks he deserves, really. 

the date of the gig draws closer and while steve has been writing and rewriting the song chords--and tony and rhodey and pepper all drag themselves through rememorizing the new versions--bucky hasn’t submitted any lyrics.  

it’s troubling but tony can’t help but feel relieved each time practice comes and goes without bucky’s voice rising in some new chorus or verse. 

each time, tony claps his hand against bucky’s shoulder and grins at steve and says, “you can do it!”

“why don’t you help?” rhodey asks one time and tony shrugs. “i think they need it?” he answers. 

and, increasingly, tony is sure he doesn’t want to help write someone else’s love story.  it’s bad enough seeing steve strike through the tabs tony had just played and know it’s because he wasn’t doing it the way bucky would’ve. steve keeps writing for someone who won’t play again. 

tony doesn’t mind standing in that much. a replacement is what he’s been his whole life. 

but having to sit next to steve and bucky and help spell out why they’re having such trouble? tony’s never been a saint. he can’t just say “you like each other!” without any thought to himself. 

ah. 

he thought it. 

“it’s fine, we’ll just use the instrumental version and lead with Star Driver.” he says. 

“I’m fine with it,” Rhodey agrees. 

“Well, Bucky doesn’t have a part in Star Driver.” Pepper points out. 

“Ah, then we’ll start with uh, Monaco, Bucky you practiced the lead for that one, right?” 

Bucky nods but Steve cuts in. 

“why can’t we do it as planned? That’s the way we practiced!”

“because we spent the whole rehearsal playing the same first chords waiting for someone to start. We’re playing tomorrow, there’s no more time!” 

steve, angry faced as always, steps forward like his short, skinny body was ready to fight tony right then. 

“what happened to ‘you can do it!’ did you not actually believe that?”

“Steve, c’mon...”

“we’re out of time! it doesn’t matter if i believe in you or not if you don’t follow up yourselves!” tony says. 

pepper looks to the ceiling like a prayer.

steve scoffs, “it’s not like you ever believed in us in the first place! you just take whatever new shiny thing there is to put in your band so you don’t get bored and have to fly back to california!” 

tony’s fist clenches and rhodey pinches his nose.  

“we don’t have time for this,” rhodey says under his breath but no one listens. 

“whatever.” tony hisses and spins.

the next day is fraught with tension as they prepare for the show.  none of them are willing to back out, even if they’re a mess. 

“did we decide on a set list.” tony asks rhodey.

“well,” rhodey trails off. 

“we’re doing it as planned,” steve interrupts. 

tony gives him an unimpressed glare, “well, i’m good enough at improvising, whatever actually happens.” he says. 

steve clicks his tongue and turns back to his guitar, tuning it. 

tony pulls a face. he glances up at bucky in the middle of it, and feels kind of bad.  bucky’s been nothing but nice, it’s steve that has a bee in his bonnet. but tony’s words probably hit just as hard if not harder for bucky. 

tony clenches his jaw. 

“Ah, Bucky, I...” He trails off as Bucky meets his eyes.

tony can sing. he even writes lyrics.  he’s the front man of the band, or was before he drug bucky into it.  so of course, after steve and hummed the song to him the first time he’d written some lyrics on the back of a napkin because he couldn’t get it out of his head. and when bucky had started outlining a sketch of verse, tony’d rewritten those lyrics like the impressionable boy he’d tried to grow out of. 

he just likes playing guitar more.  he’s always like working with his hands more than talking in front of a crowd.  but as the hot, heavy lights turn on them, and the crowd in the cafe all face them he remembers the first time he’d ever played.  not just guitar but anything at all. 

plucking the ivory keys of a piano, the discordant clanging echoing through the big house.  his mother had clapped and he frozen up, suddenly frightened at the thought of someone looking at him, of seeing him maybe fail.  his mother had slid into the seat next to him, her finger showing him where to hit. 

his father had swung in and scoffed, said if he was old enough to fool around he was old enough to actually learn. none of this coddling, maria, get the boy a real tutor. 

Pepper taps her drumsticks and lays out, her foot keeping a steady beat. Tony automatically joins in, his fingers following muscle memory.  tony’s used to the lights now, he even likes it.  the heat and the attention. 

he hears steve join in, the dual guitar melody working even though steve isn’t very talented yet.  Rhodey jumps in, the bassline smooth and grounding.  

They play the intro, then loop it when bucky misses his cue.  the second time they loop tony glances away from the crowd to see bucky, sweating by the mic. he catches steve’s worried eyes, sees white knuckled fingers again, and he takes a step forward. 

he gets close enough to bucky he can lean into the mic, and bucky jumps at his presence.  tony grins at the crowd. this is planned, he says with his grin and waits until the cue comes up again. 

“how did it go?,” he says into the mic, “i never liked the winter, i’m tired of the sun. as days go on, i fall apart, and i thought this might be fun.” he steps back from the mic and plays breathing in for the next part. 

“I never liked the winter,” bucky’s voice cut in, and if tony hadn’t been expecting it, well. “the rain won’t go away. but it’s fine, you see, because this is just the start.” 

tony let his fingers follow the frets as he leaned into the song. it was a mistake not to practice this. it was a mistake letting bucky debut a song no one in the band had actually heard the full version of. but tony hadn’t been lying when he said he was good at improvising.  

he followed steve’s lead well enough--hell, he knew enough of steve’s style he could ape a riff or two if need be.  and he’d written down enough of bucky’s half thought poems mumbled through jam sessions that he might well have had the whole song compiled in his notebook somewhere. 

He leans back in for the chorus as bucky’s voice swelled. “And even if you let go, there’s something holding on to you!”

the concert is a blur, with the stage lights and the crowd.  tony backs off as bucky finds his feet, manages to get back to his own mic and sing back up from there. it isn’t like he’d imagined. somehow, there’s room on this stage.  hearing bucky sing, for real, for the first time. it’s tugging something inside tony’s chest.  and even though the riff he’s playing wasn’t written for him he finds that there’s a flair here and there, a little space for him to improvise. 

there’s a place for him here. 

he can hardly believe it’s over, just the cheers of the audience that make him aware that his fingers have stopped moving and no one is playing any more.  it’s a rush to get back stage where rhodey and pepper clap his back and yell, and bucky and steve both look ready to have some kind of attack.

“that was good, right?” bucky asks

“good?” steve says, incredulously.

“that was amazing!” tony exclaims. he throws his arms over both their shoulders. “that was something else!” he grins back at pepper at rhodey who are hugging as well. 

“i want to...” bucky starts, then stops. 

“play it again, right?” tony says.

steve is the one who answers yes. 

“we will! we have to!” tony shouts.  he can barely stop from jumping for literal joy.  the sweat under his shirt makes the fabric stick to him when he moves and now that he’s not under the stage lights his skin is chilling fast but hell if he can focus on that. 

“i want to write more songs.” bucky says

“i want to, too.” steve says and they both look at tony, like if he tells them yes or no they’ll listen. 

like maybe they want him to have a say in this.

“i want to play them,” tony answers. he bites his lips. 

“i want to play songs your write for me. and, i want to play songs we write together.” 

he closes his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. he can feel it again, the weight of someone watching him, the potential of failing in front of someone he cared about, 

“okay,” 

he blinks his eyes open. steve is staring, stubborn and determined, into tony’s face, like tony was a new fingerstyle he had to learn. bucky looked slightly confused.

“i did write the song for you... well, you and steve but--” 

tony inhaled sharply, looking at bucky for what felt like the first time in a long while. exhaling, he lowered his face into his hands. “nooooooo.” he whined. 

“this is why you can’t have nice things, tony!” rhodey yelled from somewhere behind him. 

“you’re always over thinking it!” pepper agreed. 

someone’s hands patted him on the shoulder. “i thought you knew, you were there when i came up with the first lyrics,” 

tony shook his head. 

“it was pretty obvious,” that was steve.

tony stuck a hand out to swat him, but found it caught instead. he looked up. “i guess it’s my fault.” steve said, “i’m not good at explaining things.” 

“neither am i.” tony grinned. “but i think i get it now.” 

“good”

#kamaeteWRITES #the ot3 #tony stark #james barnes #steve rogers #what the fuck with the ship name for these three #oh #stuckony #i hate it. #stark spangled arms engineering

[wiypt-writes]

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

Trouble Tin Paradise: A Stark Spangled Forever One Shot

Summary: Rori is causing chaos in the kitchen…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Katie Stark (OFC)

Warnings: bad language, Rori being a brat…nothing else specific

Disclaimer: this is pure fiction. I own none of these guys bar Katie Stark and any other OFC mentioned. I don’t give anyone permission to use or repost my work. Reblogs are cool though. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE.

A/N: been sat on this for a while…but here’s some Rogers-Stark chaos…

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Where’s Mom?” Jamie asked, wandering into the lounge. Steve, who was led on the rug helping Flossie slot brightly coloured bricks through the corresponding holes, looked up.

“If you’d have been listening at breakfast instead of messing with whatever was so important on your iPad you’d know the answer to that question.”

Jamie rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “Humour me.”

Steve laughed and shook his head, “She’s taken Harry to soft play, then said she might head to the tower to see Auntie Pep about some work. She’ll be back for dinner.”

“Okay, so I actually did know that.”

“Why you asking then?”

“Coz I wanna know why she didn’t take Rori.”

“Take it you didn’t hear the shouting before?”

“Had my head set on. I was kicking Uncle Bucky’s butt online. You know, for someone who used to be in the army, he is so crap at shooting games.”

“Okay, two things. What have I told you about saying that word? And two… me and your mother are gonna have a discussion with Bucky about the kinds of games he’s buying you for that damned PlayStation.”

Jamie sighed, “fine, whatever, but what was the shouting?”

“She back chatted your Ma one too many times. This morning she refused to put her coat on, said she hates it. When your mom told her there were kids all over that would be grateful for such a nice jacket, Rori told her to, and I quote, ‘wrap it up and give it to them as a present’.”

“Oh.” Jamie grimaced.

“Yup, so she’s in her room…”

“Yeah, no she’s not.”

“What?” Steve blanched and felt his stomach flip.

“Don’t panic… or actually, maybe do…”

“James, what the hell-“

“She’s in the pantry… and…”

“Oh for the love of- watch Floss.” Steve jumped up as Jamie swapped places with him and he jogged down the hall.

“Rori? Aurora? What are you-“

He stopped dead in the doorway between the kitchen and large pantry and blinked. Rori was sat on the counter side, having pulled half of the tinned food cans Katie kept in one of the cupboards out and had liberated them of their labels.

“Hi, Daddy.” She grinned at him, as she flicked a label from a can of kidney beans off her finger.

Steve looked at her, then to the damned cat that seemed to be wherever she was, as it sat on the side, currently swatting at a label from a tin of tomato soup.

“What. The. HELL do you think you’re doing, young lady?” Steve’s voice was loud and stern. Rori blinked and then shrugged.

“Taking the labels off these tins.”

“Yes, I can see that!”

“Then why d’ya ask?”

Steve looked at her, as she stared back before he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, let’s try a different question. Why are you taking the labels off the tins?”

“Because Mommy annoyed me. And I want to make Erica a paper dress, because she needs one for the cat-walk.”

“Because Mommy annoyed you.” Steve repeated.

“Yup.”

“You know, right now you’re really annoying me.” Steve looked at his daughter. “Shall I go start pulling labels off all of your things? Or how about I go and pull all your drawings off the wall in the play-room?”

At that Rori’s eyes widened. “No, Daddy, that’s-“

“Mean?”

“Yeah!”

“And what do you think this is, Aurora?”

Steve’s anger was now starting to boil over. He loved his kids, every last one of them, and he would also happily admit to anyone who asked, one of his favourite things about Rori was that she was a total sassbag like her mother. But sometimes that sass got too much, just like it did with Katie, and now was one of those times.

“Daddy-“

“No, no, this is naughty. And your mommy shouted at you this morning because you were naughty. You didn’t get to go to soft play because you were naughty. And now, you’re here, being equally as naughty by trashing the pantry, because Mommy annoyed you by punishing you for being naughty in the first place. Can you see the flaw in your logic?”

“What’s a flaw?”

“Problem.”

“Oh. What’s logic?”

“Reasoning. Something you use when you decide if something is a good idea.”

“Oh.” She pondered for a moment, then shrugged. “But I can use the labels!”

“Oh, you can use the labels huh?” Steve strode forward and ignoring the yells of protest swept them off the side and scrunched them into a ball in his large hands, “not anymore!” He stalked over to the garbage and tossed them in. “Now get down from there right now and go to your room.”

“I don’t wanna!”

“Well right now I don’t wanna look at you…”

“Go back to the lounge then!”

And that was it, Steve’s final shred of self control snapped. He gently gripped his daughter by the arm, ignoring the screams and yells and lifted her off the counter, slinging her over his shoulder. She screamed and hit at his back with her balled fists in an out and out tantrum as he carried her upstairs and dumped her on her bed.

“Stay here, and if I hear so much as a foot step, I swear to God I’ll put every single one of your toys in the garbage too!”

Rori glared at him, through her angry tears, sobbing loudly as she wiped her eyes. “I hate you.”

Steve swallowed, he’d never heard that from her before. Jamie had uttered it once or twice but been quick to take it back but it still cut him to the core. However, not wanting to show weakness he simply swallowed, hands on his hips. “That’s fine, because right now, I don’t particularly like you either.”

Closing the door on her cries, Steve leaned against it, banging the back of his head on the wood lightly as he did so. He took a deep breath to calm himself, before he headed back down to the lounge.

Flossie grinned up at him, holding her hands up, “Daddda.”

He picked her up and smiled as she pressed her palms against each of his cheeks. “You gonna turn out to be as much as a diva as her?”

“Course she is,” Jamie shrugged, “she loves Rori.”

“I’m too old for this crap.”

“Language!” Jamie grinned and at that, Steve chuckled before he groaned.

“Your mom is gonna go mad.”

“Yup.”

Steve chewed the inside of his lip before he placed Flossie down and flopped onto the sofa. “Find me a seven foot block of ice I can freeze myself in again, will ya?”

****

Katie stared at the array of tins on the side and groaned.

“I was gonna put em away,” Steve sighed, “but I didn’t know what to put where or…”

“No, it’s okay. Little shit.” Katie shook her head as she picked up a tin and shook it. “So that’s soup of some kind…”

“Oh, I threw the labels…” Steve groaned, “Doll, I’m sorry.”

“Steve, it’s fine.” Katie turned to him, “this isn’t your fault, it’s hers.”

“Well, I unloaded on her, big time. Enough for her to say she hates me.”

Katie snorted, “she says that to me at least twice a week.”

“She’s never said it to me before.” Steve hung his head a little and Katie moved, her hands sliding up his chest and coming to rest on his broad shoulders.

“Because she’s a Daddy’s Girl, soldier, and has you wrapped around her little finger.”

“Hmm, wonder where she gets that from.” Steve arched a brow and Katie popped a shoulder.

“It’s a talent I’ve perfected, I’ll give you that.”

He chuckled a little as she stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry about it, just go make sure Harry and Floss are okay and I’ll start dinner.”

Leaving her to it, after offering to help and being waved away, he headed into the play room and spent some time with his youngest son who told him all about his day in a very enthusiastic manner. An hour or so later, Katie called them all in for dinner which turned out to be one of her exceptional lasagnes, a huge salad and some garlic bread. Rori stalked into the room, not even looking at Steve and sat down.

“This looks great, Mom, thanks!” Jamie helped himself as Steve dished up a smaller portion for Harry and Rori, Katie giving Flossie a few crackers to keep her occupied, the tot having been fed earlier.

“I don’t like lasagne.” Rori mutinously stated as Steve set the plate down in front of her.

“For the love of-“ he began but stopped when Katie held her hand up.

“Since when? You are it last week.”

“Since now. It’s boring.”

“Okay.” Katie replied, her voice calm, “how about I fetch you something else?”

Steve and Jamie exchanged a glance, neither of them sure where this was going. Katie was normal the hard ass when it came to things like this.

“What else?” Rori asked.

“It’s a surprise.” Katie said, mysteriously and Rori grinned.

“Okay.”

Katie left and momentarily returned with a label-less can and true can opener.

Immediately, Jamie roared with laughter as Katie grinned and began to open the can.

“No, I don’t want-“

“But you don’t know what it is yet!” Katie looked at Rori before she opened the tin and face an “ooooh” before she clapped her hands together. She grabbed a spoon, stuck it in the tin and slid it over. “Your favourite!”

Rori grabbed the tin and looked inside before she pushed it away and glared at her mother. “I hate peas!”

“Well…” Katie shrugged, “I couldn’t tell what was in it on account of you taking the label off.”

Rori blinked, then looked at the tin before she looked down at her plate. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed and then a tear fell down her cheek.

“Thank you for apologising.” Katie spoke gently. “And I think you need to apologise to someone else too, huh?”

Rori nodded and raised her head to look at Steve. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I don’t hate you. That was mean.”

Her voice broke on the last word and Steve sighed, moving so he could pull her into his lap. She wrapped her arms round his neck and sobbed as Steve gently rocked her side to side.

“It’s okay, and Rori, it’s alright to be angry and feel mad but it’s not okay to do and say things like you did today. Do you understand, Princess?”

She nodded and sniffed again.

“Okay, now, you gonna sit and eat your dinner?”

She nodded again and Steve kissed her head before she shifted and sat back down.

The room was silent for a few seconds as everyone tucked in, the happy mood restored in the Rogers’ household.

And then, a little voice spoke from Harry’s seat.

“Momma? I like peas.”

#what the stark spangled fuck #stark spangled #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x ofc #Steve Rogers x Katie Stark #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction

[petertingle-yipyip]

SIN MIEDO (BUCKY BARNES) - TWO

EPISODE TWO - THE STAR-SPANGLED MAN

//Tags: @calums-betch​​ // Chapters will be about this long from here on out, maybe longer so enjoy! // SM masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 9,178

Warnings: Language, violence, blood mentions.

Summary: Back to Europe for a fight. After confronting Sam about the shield, you and Barnes found yourself part of a trio. Only issue - outside the Flag Smashers - was John Walker putting his nose where it didn’t belong.

A couple days later, the new “Captain America” was doing a TV interview at his old high school. His name was John Walker, and he was nothing more than a dancing monkey with something he didn’t earn.

“They’re treating him like a celebrity.” You commented as you and Bucky sat on his couch and watched the interview. “He pretty much just won a fucking talent show. He didn’t earn that shield.”

“Steve didn’t want this..” Bucky shook his head sadly. “We need to talk to Sam.”

“I can book a flight to New Orleans for later today.” You offered. “Private plane, of course… Being that I’m not sure if you’re on the TSA’s no-fly list…”

“This kid is a joke.” Bucky scoffed, turning off the TV before standing. He wasn’t leaving the room, or even leaving the area. He just needed something else to do other than watch Walker make a show out of a legacy Steve worked to build. “He acts like he knows who Steve was and what that shield means. He doesn’t.”

“No, he doesn’t.” You agreed, scrolling your phone to find the number for your family’s pilot. “So what are we going to do about it?”

“What can we do, Y/N? Sam gave it up and now it’s with that guy.”

“We go to Sam then.. You said it yourself, Barnes. We need to talk to him.”

“Just call him.”

“He’s dodging my calls. Have you tried?”

“I don’t call people.”

“Well I will make a call then. I’ll book my family’s pilot for this afternoon. Pack a bag… It’ll probably be more than a day trip.”

“Wait- Why would it be more than that?”

“Something sketchy is going on here… Why now? Why name a new Captain America now? I haven’t heard of any upcoming apocalypses, have you?”

He shook his head carefully, brows furrowed as he thought about what you said.

“I think Sam might know something that we don’t. And the only way to find out...”

“Is to go to him directly.. Alright, I’m convinced.”

The flight was quick, only Sam wasn’t home. He was at the Air Force base that he had been working with on and off since the battle with Thanos. You and Barnes received plenty of judgemental looks from those around you. Some made comments towards Barnes, asking if he was going to kill them too. A few tried to catcall you, to which you simply flipped them off and kept walking. A couple asked if Stark Industries would come back to weapons because since Tony was dead, the suits should be fair game. Instead of paying them any obvious attention, you spun your fingers at your side to create a small ball of air and by flicking your wrist, you hit them in the center of their chests to knock each and every one of them on their ass.

“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.” Barnes said as soon as he saw Sam.

“Nice to see you too, Buck.” Sam replied before catching sight of you. “Hey, Mini Stark.” He said with a laugh and a smile.

“How’s it going?” You smiled happily.

“How’d you get roped into old Grumpy’s crap?”

“Surprisingly voluntarily.” You joked. “But all jokes aside, Barnes is right.. Why’d you give it up?”

“This is wrong.” Barnes added.

“Woah, you’re Y/N Stark.” Sam’s friend said with wide eyes.

“Yeah hi.” You waved quickly. “I’ll sign an autograph or take a picture later. We need to borrow Sam.”

“Nah nah nah.” Sam shook his head and pushed past the two of you. “I’m working, all right? So your outrage is just going to have to wait.”

“You didn’t know that was gonna happen?” Barnes pestered as he followed Sam, motioning for you to come too.

“No! Of course I didn’t know that was gonna happen.” Sam replied, offended that Barnes would suggest something like that. “You really think it didn’t break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?”

“This isn’t what Steve wanted.”

“Oh my god.” Sam groaned.

“Barnes has a point.” You cut in when you caught up with them. “Steve gave you the shield, Sam. Not me, not Barnes. Not the government. He gave it to you… Why would you give that away?”

“What do you guys want me to do? Call the government, tell them I changed my mind?” He laughed to which you rolled your eyes and Barnes gave no response. “Yeah, this has been a great reunion.”

“You had no right to give up that shield.” Barnes said plainly.

“Alright, what you’re not going to do is come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights.” Sam said quickly, turning to stand in front of Barnes and stop you both. “It’s done.. And I have bigger things to worry about.”

“Why did they name a new Captain America?” You cut in.

“Why would I know that?” Sam shrugged.

“You’re prepping for something, been tracking it for weeks too.” You commented as you pulled out one of the few Stark Industries tech pieces you kept around. You flicked your wrist to make what you were looking at hologram projections. “And I thought military security protocols would be difficult... Oh, that looks worrisome.” You tapped the video projection, showing a man with a black and red painted mask causing havoc on European streets. “What’s really going on here, Sam?”

“That guy has connections to rebel groups across Eastern and Central Europe… He’s strong. Too strong.” Sam explained.

“Like him strong?” You pointed to Barnes.

“Could be. He has ties to this online group called the Flag Smashers. Redwing traced them to a building outside of Munich so that’s where I’m going.”

“Well I don’t trust Redwing.” Barnes commented in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You barely even trust me, dude. Shut up.” You laughed. “Stark jet is right over there. Next stop Munich or what?”

“I don’t care if you don’t trust Redwing.” Sam told Barnes, ignoring your offer for the jet. “I’m going to see if he’s right because I’m pretty sure they’re part of the Big Three.”

“What the hell is the Big Three?” You asked in amusement with raised brows as Barnes asked “What Big Three?”

“The Big Three, you know.” Sam tried to explain without saying it, as if it should be obvious to you two. It wasn’t. “Androids, aliens, and wizards.”

“That is not a thing.” Barnes argued.

“It’s definitely a thing.” Sam countered.

“It’s not really a thing but it kinda makes sense.” You nodded slightly.

“Every time we fight, we’re fighting one of the three!” Sam reasoned.

“So who are you fighting now, Gandalf?” Barnes joked.

“The Grey or the White?” You added on with a chuckle.

“Wait, what do you know about Gandalf?” Sam questioned.

“I read The Hobbit when it first came out in 1937.” Barnes said proudly.

“He’s a nerd. We know this. Moving on. There’s no wizards?” You said, holding both your hands out as if to gesture to the world around you.

“Doctor Strange.” Sam countered.

“Is a sorcerer.” Barnes corrected as you added “Well my dad would call Strange a wizard.”

“Aha!” Sam exclaimed happily. “A sorcerer is just a wizard without a hat. Think about it-” while he spoke, Barnes' eyebrows furrowed as he processed Sam’s train of thought. “-I just came up with that. That’s crazy.”

“So these guys are magic?” You asked, bringing the conversation back to Sam’s Flag Smashers guy.

“No, they’re not magical. They use brute force, just like him.” Sam turned to face Barnes. “The incredibly annoying guy in front of me with a staring problem.”

“You think he stares or he just zones out?” You sidestepped to be next to Sam, facing Barnes. “I really don’t think there’s a lot of thoughts behind those eyes..”

“We’re coming with you.” Barnes said, unamused by your jokes.

“No you’re not.” Sam corrected as he began walking away.

Instead of arguing, you and Barnes simply followed Sam to his plane. Sam and Barnes sat opposite of each other, staring each other down the entire flight. You sat yourself on top of some crates, not bothering for a seatbelt. The ride was a bit rough, but by using your powers to manipulate the air around you, you kept your balance.

“One minute to drop, Sam.” Sam’s Air Force buddy said as he walked by. You still hadn’t caught his name.

“What’s the plan?” You asked, fitting the ear piece to your right ear as the boys put theirs in. “So no plan then.” You commented after a few moments of silence.

“How am I supposed to have a plan when I have two stowaways?” Sam said, gesturing to you and Barnes. “And you, Y/N. Why are you following his lead?”

“Our therapist said so.” You shrugged, hopping off the crates and tying your hair out of your face.

“Thirty seconds!”

“Enjoy the ride, Buck.” Sam commented as he began to head to the door of the plane.

“No, you can’t call me that.” Barnes argued.

“I don’t even call him that and we’re roommates.” You added as you followed them.

“Why not? Steve called you that.” Sam reasoned.

“Steve knew me longer. And Steve would have a plan.”

“I do have a plan… Just doesn’t involve you two.”

“Oh, so we’re freestyling?” You said excitedly. “You know, I always loved going off script.”

Sam jumped first, ignoring any other questions from you or Barnes. Barnes went next, having a small conversation with Sam’s friend. You went next, stopped momentarily by the boy.

“Wait, are you sure you’ll make it?” He tried.

“I’ve done worse.” You shrugged, stepping out of the plane into a small free fall. You gathered the air around you to create a current you could slide down like a skateboard sliding down a rail. It curved and dipped and rose to give yourself time to slow your momentum before reaching the ground. When you reached the ground, you found Barnes lying flat on his back.

“You jumped 200 feet through the trees and landed like this?” You teased. “Not much ‘super’ left in this soldier, is there?” You kicked at his side slightly, to which he smacked your foot away in annoyance.

“You know I got all of that camera, right?” Sam mocked over comms. “And Y/N, nice work with the little trick maneuvers.”

“Oh you have to send it to me.” You said almost instantly.

“Come on.” Sam instructed. “Head north.”

You helped a reluctant Barnes to his feet and began weaving through the trees. You let Barnes walk in front of you. Not because you needed him to protect you, just because the room between the trees was narrow and Barnes had already pushed himself to the front.

“Sam’s little friend hitting on you or what?” Barnes asked as you were reaching the clearing around the building Sam had you meet him at.

“Oh gross.” You shook your head. “We are not having this conversation.”

“Come on.” Barnes chuckled. “What are you holding out for? Live a little.”

“Wow. The old man goes on one date and he thinks he’s the love doctor… Let’s figure this out and I can live a little after.” You rolled your eyes.

While the boys watched the live feed Redwing transmitted, you moved around quietly. You knelt down in various spots, flattening one palm to the ground and tapping the knuckles of the other hand against the floor. You modelled the trick after your childhood show yet again, feeling the way the vibrations travelled through the earth. You could pinpoint yourself, Barnes, and Sam in that room. You also felt the trucks parked outside the building, opposite of how you all got into the building, and multiple people walking in and out the building in the same area. The only problem was that you were too far to really tell.

“I’ll see you inside… Or not.” Barnes told Sam before turning to you. “You coming, Kid?”

“I’m kidding, come on!” Sam tried with a smile.

“Yeah, I got it.” You shook your head with an amused sigh and hurried to catch Barnes.

“Look at you all stealthy.” Sam joked over comms. “Spend a little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.”

“It’s actually White Wolf.” Barnes corrected simply.

“Shut it.” You insisted quietly. “Alright, we’re in.. Close enough for now.”

You knelt behind some shelving, looking to count what you couldn’t before. Barnes made a comment about being ahead of Sam right before you felt his footsteps approach.

“Let’s go.” Barnes tried.

“No.” You held up your free hand while the other was pressed flat.

“I got a Vibranium arm. I can take them.” He defended.

“I can fly and she can control the elements. Who gives a shit? Wait.” Sam cut in. “We need to see where they’re going.”

“It’s two people.” Barnes argued.

“It’s more than two.” You corrected, knocking on the ground lightly.

“Let’s see what Redwing sees.” Sam said and judging from his tone, it was pointedly at Barnes.

“I’m getting five, at least.” You said, crossing your arms over an upraised knee, as Sam replied “You still only see two?”

After a small tussle, the boys end up nearly knocking things off the shelf. With a quick movement of your hands, you caught in on a small air ball and gently laid it to the ground. You all froze, hoping the cover behind the shelving would be enough. After a few seconds, you heard the trucks pulling out.

“There’s another in the truck. I think they have a hostage.” Sam said while looking at the screen on his wrist. Without a word, Barnes took off in a sprint after the trucks while Sam took flight soon after. With a sure step forward, you created a roll through the ground that carried you right up to the trucks. When you were close enough, your body moved to jump and the earth beneath you gave you an extra boost to get to the top of the truck before settling back.

Barnes jumped to the back of one of the trailers to open it, while you waited up top. Barnes was explaining what he was seeing while you looked around. You wondered why the second truck didn’t make a move to get Barnes off. The rear truck didn’t ram the lead or make any attempt to stop either of you.

You quickly realized it was a set up. Before you could get a warning out, you saw Barnes go flying into the rear truck. He was quickly yanked up and the one you assumed was the hostage in question was just as quick to jump trucks. You instantly made a small tornado between the trucks, jumped into it and allowed it to spin you to the fight. You landed as the “hostage” smashed Redwing over her knee, Sam flying in just moments after.

“So much for a hostage situation, huh?” You commented in annoyance as you began trading blows.

“Nice of you guys to join the fight!” Barnes yelled as he threw punches.

You tried to keep a safe distance between you and your opponent. You knew they were strong based on the way they had manhandled Barnes just moments before. You punctuated your punches and kicks with blasts of air, using your attacks to direct it. It didn’t make much impact as far as wearing them down, but it kept them off balance. Maybe you could knock them off the trailer completely.

You thought the three of you had it under control when you heard the clang of the metal and saw the disc fly past you. Suddenly, John Walker had joined the fight. Using your irritation of being in the same general area as the phony, you switched from air to fire. Flicking your hands open, you sparked flames in your palms and began throwing the fire. You were careful to not hit Sam or Barnes, but you weren’t exactly worried about Walker getting caught in the crossfire.

In the small lull, John tried to introduce himself. You talked over him to Sam, who you had just helped to his feet.

“We’re not gonna win this one.” You said between heavy breaths. “They’re too strong and we’re outnumbered.”

The action picked up quickly before anything else could be said. Between blows, Barnes was knocked off the trailer. You hurried to the edge, peering over to see he was able to catch himself but someone was quickly on their way down to finish it. You pulled the far end of the asphalt up in an effort to force the two trucks together and smash the man between the two.

You heard the whoosh of Sam’s wings and Barnes scream. You quickly slid to the opposing side to see the two rolling through the field of flowers on the side of the road. You let out a sigh of relief as you stood, ready to step off and make an air current to get you to the boys when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You spun on your heel and saw the red headed girl and a large man standing behind you.

“I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.” You winked with a lazy two finger salute before falling back off the trailer. On your way down, you sent a quick bolt of lightning at their feet to knock them off balance so they didn’t have time to catch and grab you.

You turned mid air and gathered a quick ball of air that you balanced on and took you to where the guys stopped rolling. You hopped off your ball and sat in the field at their feet as they sat up.

“So.. Super soldiers.” You said, your eyes focused on the nearby highway. Your muscles were aching as you thought of the fight you just left.

“Yeah, I know.” Sam nodded carefully.

“I wanna know how… I thought Serbia was it.”

“Come on.” Sam said as he got to his feet. “Let’s get out of here and we’ll figure something out.”

You turned your torso to create a small tornado to get you to your feet. Barnes made his way up too and the three of you started the long walk down the hallway.

“Sorry about Redwing.” You told Sam to break the seemingly endless silence. “She didn’t even hesitate to smash him.. Kinda brutal if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but no one did.” Barnes cut in.

“Okay just cause you got your ass kicked by a girl-“ You began to argue.

“It has nothing to do with that!” Barnes said loudly.

“Oh it doesn’t? Okay. What’s your deal then?”

“There’s super soldiers out there, Y/N. Do you get that?”

“You think I don’t?” You laughed in annoyance. “My split lip, busted eyebrow, and cracked septum would beg to differ. I couldn’t even get close without worrying they’d kill me with one hit.”

“Hey!” Sam interjected, turning to stand in front of you both and stop your steps. “You’re not going to die, alright Mini Stark? I’m not gonna let that happen and neither is he.”

“You sure about that?” You challenged, shooting a side eyed glare at Barnes. “Cause I’m starting to think that he’d rather I die out here.”

“We’re back to this?” Barnes groaned. “Kid, I opened my apartment to you and let you crash on my couch so you wouldn’t be alone in some hotel. You want to know what this is?”

“Oh great. He goes to therapy for a little while and he thinks he can psychoanalyze me!”

“You’re just full of rage. And why are you full of rage? Because you’re full of grief. You’re using this as a distraction so you don’t have to deal with your dad’s death.”

“You don’t know shit, Barnes.” You warned, making fierce eye contact with Barnes. “I suggest you watch what you say next.”

You felt it in those moments. The dangerous potential your abilities held. In your anger, you happened to look down at your hand and noticed the feeling of your blood in your veins that stared back at you and how it moved like… Water. That moment scared you because you realized it was true. You could manipulate blood like water.

“Y/N?” You felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder, snapping your gaze up from your hand. “You okay?”

“Let’s keep moving. It’s a long walk back to Munich. The sooner we’re back, the sooner I can heal myself.” You said simply.

You let Sam and Barnes walk a few steps in front of you, your mind lost in a muddled sea of thoughts. Your mind bounced between thinking about what Barnes had said, that you were just angry. Part of that was true. You were angry over the recent losses you suffered. Nat had sacrificed herself to bring you back and you never got a chance to thank her or say goodbye. You weren’t even sure if you fully remembered the last conversation you had with her.

You were angry that the world demanded your dad’s sacrifice. He had to give his life to save millions. How was that fair? How did the cosmos decide that Tony Stark, your father, had to give up his life to undo what Thanos did years prior? Why did the weight of the world always seem to land on your father’s shoulders?

You were also angry about Steve. You missed him, definitely. But you were also disappointed in him. He abandoned his life and his friends here for an old flame. You couldn’t say if you would definitely do the same thing or not, but you thought it was relatively selfish what he did. Not only that, but his legacy was being handed out to the first blonde soldier the government saw. It was wrong and Steve wasn’t there to help stop it.

The rumbling of the engine pulled you from your own head and brought you back to the current moment. You heard Walker’s voice but didn’t really care to process or listen. Barnes turned around, seemingly to find you, and sighed slightly when he saw just how far back you were. He motioned for you to hurry and catch up, to which you simply nodded in response and slightly picked up your pace.

“Well then we gotta work together.” Walker reasoned.

“That’s not happening.” Barnes protested while you laughed.

“You think we’re going to work with you?” You mocked. “Let me ask you something. Would you have helped me if those guys had me pinned back there?”

“I know you don’t trust-” He tried to dance around your question.

“It’s a simple yes or no.” You cut in. “I wouldn’t hesitate to help Barnes or Sam because we’re a team and I trust them. Would you, John Walker, help me if they were going to kill me?” You challenged again.

“I think we would stand a much better chance if we all just-” He tried again.

“Just because you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.” Barnes cut in this time.

“I’ve done the work, okay?” Walker replied defensively. It was seemingly more to convince himself than your group.

“You ever jump on top of a grenade?”

“Yeah, actually I have. Four times.” He replied smugly. “It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet.”

“Steve did it without a helmet.” You replied in a singsong tone as you toyed with your nails to punctuate your disinterest.

“It’s twenty miles to the airport.” Walker said in annoyance. “You guys need a ride.”

You ended up following Sam into the truck. You would’ve just used your abilities to take you but twenty miles was a long stretch to maintain your power. You sat between Barnes and Sam. The lack of movement caused the fatigue to catch you, making it hard to keep your eyes open.

“You alright?” Barnes asked quietly while Walker tried to rally you guys on his side.

“Yeah.” You nodded, speaking the same hushed tone. “Just beat.. I’ll be fine when I can heal myself.”

“How you gonna do that?”

“I just need some water. It’s pretty cool actually.” You smiled slightly. “Sorry about snapping you back there.. You were kinda right after all.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He nudged you gently.

You put your eyes forward, leaning into Barnes. You felt him stiffen for a few seconds before relaxing again. He didn’t attempt to move you and you didn’t really have the energy to get up. You zoned out for a bit while Walker and Sam talked about the Flag Smashers.

“Do they always just stare like that?” Walker asked, your attention being caught when he pointed at you.

“You get used to it.” Sam said plainly, glancing at you for a second before chuckling. “She’s just been hanging out with him too much so she’s picking up his habits.”

“Point at me again and I’ll break your finger.” You said plainly. “It’s rude to point. Mama never taught you that?”

Walker’s friend, Lemar, jumped in and helped try to explain what was going on. You found yourself more willing to listen to him than Walker. Maybe it was his attitude. He seemed to be more grateful and respectful of his duty and the responsibility he held than Walker.

“So the GRC is handling resources… “ You said slowly as your brain was processing. “Why are you two here then?”

“We keep things stable.”

“Violent revolutionaries aren’t good for either side.” Walker added.

“Says the side with the resources.” You mumbled.

“I’m sorry. Wasn’t Tony Stark the CEO of the biggest weapons supplier in the world?” Walker turned on you.

“Say my dad’s name one more time.” You managed to put yourself in a sitting position as you felt the fire travelling up your spine. It bobbed and weaved it’s way through your muscle fibers until it burned under the skin of your fingers, begging for the small movement to bring it to life. “I dare you.”

“Tony Stark had Stark Industries providing weapons to terrorist groups and the US military for years. You shouldn’t be commenting on the side with resources given your family’s legacy.”

You pointed two fingers at Walker, letting the fire collect on those fingertips. You watched with a sly smile as he gripped the shield a little tighter and visibly gulped. You watched Lamar’s eyes widen slightly, adjusting in his seat.

“She did warn you.” Barnes shrugged.

“I am my family’s legacy.” You said proudly. “You make another comment on my father, or my family in general, and this little flame is going to get a lot bigger.” You mimicked a gunshot as you sent the small flame to whiz past Walker, lightly singeing the side of his hair and - hopefully - grazing his ear.

“If you three would join us-” He tried again, to which you simply rolled your eyes with a scoff.

“No.” Barnes said plainly.

“I got mad respect for all three of y’all.” Lemar tried. “But you were kinda getting your asses kicked till we showed up.”

“Who are you?” Barnes asked.

“She kicked your ass too.” You pointed out. “I saw you get thrown off the trailer.”

“You did too.” He countered.

“I jumped. There’s a difference.”

“Imma need a little more than Lemar Hoskins when a guy shows up dangling from a helicopter in tactical gear.” Sam redirected the conversation.

“Battlestar.. John’s partner.”

“Battlestar?” You tried to hide your laugh.

“Stop the car.” Barnes called. He had reached his limit.

“I get it, alright?” Walker called as Barnes climbed out. He waited a minute, holding a hand out to help you climb down. You didn’t hesitate to get out given that you were at your limit with John Walker as well. “You didn’t think the shield was going to end up here. I get it, Bucky!” He spoke more to Sam when he saw you and Barnes begin to walk away. “I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m not trying to replace Steve… I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be.”

“You’re not Captain America!” You yelled over your shoulder as he talked to Sam a bit more. “You’re a cheap knockoff! You’re not even a Wal-Mart version of Captain America. You’re a bootleg, gas station version.”

Sam finally caught up with you two as Walkers’ car took off. The rest of the walk was in fact long and tiring. Not much was said either as the three of you just wanted to get somewhere you could all rest.

On the plane, Sam laid out on one bench while Barnes sat on the crates. You sat on the floor between the two with a small crate of water in front of you. Dunking both hands, you let the water stick to your hands as you lifted them to your face. You held them in place one at a time, against the bridge of your nose first. Your ears perked up as Barnes broke the silence.

“Let’s take the shield, Sam.” He said lowly. “Let’s take the shield and do it ourselves.”

“We can just run up on the man, beat him up, and take it.” Sam reasoned.

“Technically we could.” You offered, half joking as you changed hands to your split lip. You scrunched your nose a couple times to see if it hurt so you knew if it was fully healed and it was. “We’re a super soldier, an element manipulator, and a guy in a bird costume. We could take him.”

“You guys remember what happened the last time we stole it?”

“Maybe.” Barnes answered.

“I’ll help you in case you forgot.” Sam started, partly annoyed but more so tired. “Sharon was branded an enemy of the state and Steve and I were on the run for two years… I don’t know about you two but I don’t wanna live the rest of my life la vida loca…”

“We got our asses kicked by super soldiers and came out with nothing.” You sighed as you moved on to your last wound on your eyebrow.

“Not entirely true.” Barnes said simply before hopping off the crate and moving to sit next to Sam. “There’s someone I think you should meet.”

The next day, you three ended up in Baltimore. You followed Barnes to a house in an older residential neighborhood. You could tell it was one of the neighborhoods that the City didn’t maintain. It reminded you of the neighborhood you lived in until your mom sent you to live with your dad when she got sick.

“Why do I get the feeling that we’re not gonna get a welcome wagon?” You commented with a sigh as you three approached the front door.

Barnes shrugged lightly before looking to Sam, as if to confirm he wanted to be there. After a small nod, Barnes knocked.

“We’re here to see Isaiah.” Barnes said when a kid opened the door.

“Nobody named Isaiah lives here.” The kid countered nervously.

“We just want to talk to him.” You tried gently.

“You must not hear what I just said.” The kid said with finality. “You ain’t getting in this house. Y’all can leave now.”

“Tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here.” Barnes said after a small hesitation. “He’s gonna know what that means.”

After a moment of contemplation, the kid closed the door.

“How do we know this guy?” You asked when you heard the door click.

“We had a little skirmish during the Korean War.” Barnes explained.

“You sure he’s gonna want to see you then?” You countered with a raised brow.

“It’s your lucky day.” The kid said as he opened the door again. “He said he wants to see for himself.” He stepped aside and let the three of you in.

The man stood from his chair on the other side of the room, eyeing Barnes and not really giving you or Sam a second glance. You stood between the boys, Sam staying back a few steps in hesitation.

“This is Sam, and Y/N. Y/N, Sam, this is Isaiah.” Barnes introduced you. “He was a hero.”

“Isaiah Bradley..” You mumbled, remembering one of the extremely classified SHIELD files you had hacked into years ago. The file was in pieces and it took you a week to put it back together. “One of the ones HYDRA feared most… Just like Steve.”

“We met in ‘51.” Barnes continued.

“If by met you mean I whooped your ass, then yeah.” Isaiah corrected to which you laughed while Sam remained straight faced.

“I like him.” You nodded with a wide smile. “How’d it go down?”

“Heard rumors he was on the peninsula but everyone they sent after him never came back.” Isaiah began, looking between you and Barnes. “So the US military dropped me behind the line to go deal with him. I took half that metal arm in that fight in Goyang but I see he’s managed to grow it back. I just wanted to see if he got the arm back or if he came to kill me.”

“I’m not a killer anymore.” Barnes said softly, regretfully almost.

“You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be?” Isaiah countered.

“Mr. Bradley, if I may?” You tried, to which he simply nodded for you to continue. “I know how it sounds but my father was in a similar boat. Our company was providing resources to people all over the world, both good and bad. He thought it was the right thing, that he was protecting people.. But he was causing more harm than good. When he saw what was happening, he put the company and his family down a better path… Given the right motivation, people can change.”

“And who exactly is your father?”

“Tony Stark…”

“It may work that way for folks like you.“ He pointed at you slightly.

“Isaiah, the reason we’re here is there’s more of you and me out there.” Barnes redirected the conversation. “And we need to know how.”

“I’m not gonna talk about it anymore.” Isaiah said tensely as he launched a small tin can into the nearest wall. He came around the table to face Barnes, who made sure to position you behind him just in case. “You know what they did to me for being a hero? They put my ass in jail for 30 years. People running tests… Taking my blood, coming into my cell… Even your people weren’t done with me.”

“Isaiah..” Sam tried.

“Get out of my house!”

You grabbed each of their sleeves, tugging them towards the door as the boy came to lead you out. “Come on..” You said softly. “I’m sorry, Isaiah.” You said sincerely as you three were on your way out. “We never meant to upset anyone..” You told the boy, who simply nodded in response.

Sam stormed down the stairs to the streets so you two had to hustle to catch up to him.

“Will you slow down?” You called in annoyance.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Isaiah?” He asked angrily. “How could nobody bring him up?”

When neither of you answered, he pressed some more.

“Steve didn’t know about him?”

“No, he didn’t. I never told him.” Barnes replied coolly.

“So you’re telling me there was a black super soldier decades ago and nobody knew about it?”

The sirens interrupted your conversation. The cops pulled up next to you, two officers exiting the car.

“Hey. Is there a problem here?” One of the officers asked as he approached the three of you.

“No, we’re just talking.” Sam replied tensely.

“It’s fine. Get back in your car and go deal with an actual crime.” You replied, running a hand down your face in annoyance.

“Can I see some ID?” He asked Sam.

“Man, seriously?” Barnes questioned.

“Do you know who we are?” You scoffed. 

“Okay, sir Just calm down.” The other officer tried, his hand seemingly drifting to his belt.

“I am calm. What do you want? We’re just talking.” Sam replied quickly. 

“Just give him your ID.” Barnes said. “And then we can go.”

“No, don’t give them shit.” You cut in. “They don’t need it unless they’re putting you under arrest.”

“Is he bothering you folks?” They turned to you.

“Oh fuck off.” You waved him off. “Do you know who we are?”

“Hey.. These guys are Avengers.” The officer whispered to his partner.

“Oh my god. I am so sorry, Mr. Wilson.” The first officer said nervously. “I didn’t recognize you without the uh, the goggles. And Ms. Stark, I-“

Another cop car rolled up, drawing the other two officers away. 

“This is such bullshit.” You mumbled as you ran a hand through your hair.

“I didn’t tell anybody because he had already been through enough.” Barnes explained.

“His file with SHIELD pretty much deleted itself as I opened it.. I didn’t know if he was real or not.” You added before the initial officers came back.

“Mr. Barnes, I’m sorry but there is a warrant out for your arrest.” He said regretfully.

“He’s been pardoned.” You shook your head, immensely tired of dealing with the police. “What are the charges?”

“He missed his court mandated therapy. It’s like missing a check in with your PO.”

“You missed an appointment with Raynor?” You turned on Barnes. “She’s gonna kill me too when she sees I’ve been with you the whole time.”

While the officers took Barnes into custody, you turned to Sam. “We can’t just let him go to jail.” You sighed. Sam simply shrugged so you turned and tried to stop the cops. “Hey, are the cuffs necessary?” You ask the officer, reaching for his wrist.

The other officer grabbed your arm instantly and spun  you away. He slammed your chest against the police car. You groaned at the impact while the officer yanked your arms behind your back.

“Y/N Stark, you are under arrest for obstruction of justice.” The officer said smugly, as if he was waiting for a reason to cuff you. He proceeded to read your Miranda rights as you complained. 

“Is this really necessary?” You protested through clenched teeth. “Really? With the cuffs? You guys know I can just- Yeah, there we go.” You nodded in triumph as you used your powers to manipulate the metal of the cuffs so you could free one hand. You turned and held up both hands with a proud smile.

“Ah, okay okay. Again with the slamming?” You commented as your chest was slammed against the car again. This time they used the zip ties. “Haha, smart.”

“And resisting arrest.” The officer chuckled.

You were shoved roughly in the back of the police car with Barnes, leaving Sam alone in the street. You hoped he would come and get you two otherwise you would have to call Pepper, and you weren’t looking forward to that conversation. You two ended up at the police station, waiting in the cell.

“You ever hear the expression, do as I say and not as I do?” Barnes asked as you two waited for Sam to get you out.

“Hmm…” You pretended to think. “Not ringing any bells… Besides, following isn’t really a Stark trait. I’m more of a ‘just go for it’ type of kid.”

“Why did you get involved?” He sighed.

“Raynor is going to yell at me either way.” You shrugged, slumping back against the wall. “She might as well yell at me for actually sticking by you. Plus, you told me to live a little..”

“Sam, I’m Dr. Raynor, Y/N and James’ therapist.” Raynor spoke to Sam outside in the lobby. 

“Thanks for getting them out.” Sam replied.

“That wasn’t me.” She countered.

“Hey, Christina!” They heard from down the hall. The annoyingly familiar voice caused Sam to stand and turn, seeing John Walker coming towards him.

“You know that guy?”

“Did some field ops back in the day.”

“When I heard you were working with Barnes, I thought I’d step in.” Walker explained. “Bucky isn’t going to follow that strict schedule anymore.” Walker continued.

“Our work isn’t done. Who authorized this?” Raynor asked quickly.

With a smug smile, Walker pointed to himself. Meanwhile, you and Barnes were being led back to the lobby. You saw Raynor talking to Sam with Walker beat by.

“They’re too valuable an asset to be locked up. So do whatever you have to do with them and then send them to me. Wilson, you too.. I’ll be outside.”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, walking away from the people at the front desk to confront Walker.

“Here we go.” Barnes muttered, quickly following you.

“Assets?” You repeated as you stood face to face with Walker. “You’re fucking pathetic. If you think that getting us out of jail is going to-“

“Wait, why are you yelling at me?” He laughed in disbelief. “I just helped you out. It’s me, yknow, extending an olive branch. I- I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“You did it for leverage!” You shouted. “You did it so you could lord it over me like I owe you something! Well I don’t. I don’t owe you or anyone anything!”

“Y/N.” Barnes said from your side, grabbing your arm firmly. “Now's not the time. You really think threatening him in a police station is a smart move?”

You stared at Walker intensely when you noticed it. A vein on the side of his neck that strained as his jaw clenched. You remembered in that anger fueled moment that blood moves like water. Your fist clenched at your side as you focused in on the movement of the fluid in his body. After a few seconds of concentration, you managed to take control of his blood, forcing his muscles to tighten.

“What are you doing to me?” Walker asked in a strained voice, unable to resist your hold.

“How could I do anything? I just manipulate the elements.” You replied with faux innocence and a slight tilt of your head. You felt a tad unhinged in those moments, like you were losing yourself.

What you didn’t see was the look Barnes shot Sam. It was a look of worry. Not for Walker, he’d be fine. Barnes was worried about you. He remembered what you told him that first night you stayed on his couch and figured that’s what was happening. 

“And there’s a darker potential I wonder about but I don’t know if I’d ever try it.”

“I know you’re scared of me…” You taunted Walker with a smirk. “You say I’m too eccentric…”

“Y/N! James!” Raynor’s firm voice came from behind you and snapped you from your instance of what felt like insanity. With your attention shifted, your grip on Walker was released. “Condition of your releases, a session. Both of you, right now. Let’s go.”

Barnes pulled you away as Walker regained control of himself. You grabbed Sam’s sleeve and pulled him with you two. You refused to look back, though something in your chest wanted you to turn around. You couldn’t place if it was guilt or curiosity, regret or a desire to try it again. Either way, you had to keep moving forward.

The three of you were sat across from Raynor in an interrogation room. The only thing separating you was a cold metal table and the chairs weren’t any better. Thin, cold aluminum that was no better quality than a folding chair.

“So.. Who would like to start?” Raynor began.

“I really don’t need to be here.. I’m 100% fine.” Sam replied.

“This is rather unprofessional, Raynor.” You said playfully, hoping to avoid the topic of your momentary lapse of control. “Barnes is the only one that’s a patient anymore. We shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s my job to make sure that you’re  okay.” She gestured between you and Barnes. “And so yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional, but it’s the only way I can see if you’re both getting over what’s eating at you.”

“This is ridiculous.” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, I agree.” Barnes added.

“You should be happy.” You said, sitting back in your cold metal chair. “You wanted me and Barnes to be friends, and now we are. We even got arrested together!”

“Cut the shit.” She told you, which made you put your hands up in surrender. “Again.. Who wants to go first?” When no one answered, she tried again. “Okay, we’ll try an exercise I use for couples… It’s called the miracle question. Do any of you know what that is?”

“Absolutely not.” Barnes shook his head as Sam said “Of course not.”

“It’s a hypothetical scenario.” You began, your head tilted to the ceiling as you spoke. “You pretend that a miracle happened while you were asleep, the kind that makes your life better. What’s the miracle you would want to see?” Your answer drew curious looks when you turned your attention to the group. “I took an advanced psychology class in college.”

“Well in my miracle, he would talk less.” Barnes took a jab at Sam.

“Exactly what I was going to say. How ironic.” Sam countered.

“I’ll give you a serious answer.” You shrugged. “Only way this is gonna end is if one of us actually tries. My family is back. My dad, Nat, Steve, even Vision. We’re at that damn lake house and I actually feel welcome somewhere..”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Raynor nodded. She turned her attention to the guys. “You two are leaving me no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise.”

“I like this better.” Barnes said sarcastically.

“Oh God.” Sam chuckled. “He’s gonna love this. This is right up your alley. You should really enjoy this.” 

“Just shut up and face each other.” You groaned before they began rearranging their chairs to face each other. They continued to make stupid comments to each other while you toyed with your chair. You tried pulling off a piece of it with your powers. When it finally came off, you toyed with it, making it take different shapes and do different tricks in your palm.

“You need to look each other in the eyes.” Raynor directed. “See? That wasn’t so hard…. Wait, what are you guys doing?”

“They turned it into a staring contest.” You commented, not looking up from your new toy. “Just blink, oh my god!” You said loudly, looking up to kick at their interlocked chair legs. “You guys are so childish.” You chuckled, weaving the metal between your fingers.

“James, why does Sam aggravate you?” Raynor tried again. “And don’t say something childish.”

Barnes paused in contemplation, thinking of how he wanted to answer. He looked to you, to which you simply shrugged and gestured for him to answer. While you wanted to avoid interacting with John Walker, you didn’t exactly care to be in that room much longer.

“Why'd you give up the shield?” He asked finally. You had to keep from rolling your eyes. You thought he had moved past it. Sam gave a similar reaction.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of something that has nothing to do with you?” Sam asked tightly.

You leaned forward to rest your elbows on your knees. Now you were interested. 

“Steve believed in you.. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason.” Barnes began. Once he started talking, it was like an open faucet. “That shield, that is… That is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield and you threw it away like it was nothing.”

“Ouch.” You whispered.

“Shut up.” Sam said flatly.

“So maybe he was wrong about you.”

“Barnes, that’s enough.” You tried.

“And if he was wrong about you then he was wrong about me!”

“Oh please!” You groaned, throwing the metal you were toying with into the nearby wall with a satisfying splat. “If there is anyone in this room Steve was right about, it’s you, Barnes. Not Sam, not me. You.”

“This is good..” Raynor nodded, gesturing for you to continue. “Y/N, what do you mean? You think he was wrong about you?”

“Did you see what I did to Walker?” You laughed in disbelief. “Of course he was wrong about me. Steve thought I was this- this- this great kid with untapped potential! He thought I could follow my dad’s footsteps and lead the next generation of Avengers and be better than they ever were… And here I am, getting arrested in Baltimore and misusing my powers!”

“Barnes, Steve knew you better than we know you and better than he knew us.” You shifted in your seat to face your friend. “He always knew who you were. Even when you were sent to kill him, he knew who you were. Steve might’ve been wrong about me and Sam might’ve been wrong for giving up the shield, but Steve wasn’t wrong about you.. Look at you! You’ve gone through your- your little journal and tried making amends… You’re friends with me for crying out loud. He wasn’t wrong about you..”

“Let’s keep this going.” Raynor pushed. “So if Steve was wrong about you, who was right, Y/N?”

You paused in thought, knowing there was only one possible answer. “My dad… He always knew I was different. Not just in my powers, but me. I was never perfectly good or perfectly evil. I was both… And he knew that. But- but it didn’t stop him from believing I would find who I was meant to be..”

“And who were you meant to be?”

“His legacy..”

A lull in your breakthrough allowed Sam to speak up.

“Maybe this is something you or Steve will never understand.” Sam said carefully. “But can you accept that I did what I thought was right? … We don’t have time for this, Doc. We got some real serious shit going on. So how about this. We squash this, go deal with that, and then we go on separate long vacations and we never see each other again.”

“I like that.” Barnes agreed.

“I don’t.” You countered, which was ignored. 

“Great.” Sam said with fake enthusiasm. “I’ll see you two outside.”

“What’s wrong?” You asked Barnes as he stood. You followed suit, sidestepping to block his path. “I’ve seen that look.”

“What was rule number two?” He turned around to ask Raynor.

“Don’t hurt anyone.” She replied.

“Looks like that’ll be my job then.” You nodded. “Thanks, Raynor.”

“Y/N?” She tried before you followed Barnes out the room. “You don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations other than your own… You and Barnes, you both could be-“

“-Very impactful on the other.” You cut in. “I know… I’m trying to be this- this- this role model for him.” You laughed without humor. “But I can’t be that shimmering beacon of hope when I’m trying to figure out my own shit.”

“I’m not asking you to be perfect.. Neither is James.” She countered. “I’m asking you to be the person you know you are, not the one everyone else thinks - or thought - you are.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You said with a tight smile as you exited the room and soon after, the building.

You found the boys talking to Walker and his friend right outside the building. Raynor’s words bounced around in your brain, mixing with the words and arguments you’d had with Barnes over the last few days. It was odd, knowing that you could be read so easily. A vulnerability you had no control over. You couldn’t hide, not from yourself and seemingly not from Barnes. It sent a chill down your spine to know someone who you hardly knew - but you were making an effort to know - saw through you almost instantly.

“Well good thing I have 20/20 vision then.” You heard Walker brag as you approached. “Y/N! Nice of you to join us. And hey, no hard feelings. I know you were just-“

His words were cut off by a swift right hook to his jaw. You groaned slightly as the impact sent a sharp sensation up your bones. You quickly realized you made solid contact between his jaw and your knuckles.

“If you ever patronize or disrespect me like that again.” You threatened. “What I did to you back there, I will do it again but a hundred times worse. Do I make myself clear?”

“Are you threatening me!?” He asked in shock.

“A threat implies I won’t do it.” You chuckled. “And I think we both know I will… And we’re not a team. My team is right here.” You held your arms to your side, gesturing to Sam and Barnes.

“So where is she now, Walker?” Barnes asked, leaning an arm on your shoulder like an armrest. “Do you know?”

“No, we don’t know, Bucky.” He answered quickly. “It’s only a matter of time until we find out.”

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?” Barnes mocked from your side.

“Both of you take it easy.” Sam stepped in. “Walker’s right. It’s imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys-“ He turned to Walker and Lamar. “-have all sorts of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents, more flexible. It just wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

“A word of advice then… Stay the hell out of my way.” Walker said, a mild threat lingering in the distance.

“Oh, I’m so scared.” You mocked before blowing a raspberry in his direction.

The boys walked away before you did. You took your first few steps backwards, facing Walker so you could flip him off with both hands and a very honest smile. You mouthed the words ‘Bye bye, bitch boy.’ You spun on your heel and hurried to catch the boys, taking the empty space between them.

“You really need to stop instigating.” Barnes laughed lightly as you caught up.

“Well you’re no fun.” You joked. “Don’t worry. I know when enough is enough… And it’s not yet. Not until Walker learns some respect.”

“What are you guys thinking?” Sam asked plainly.

“I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’, he meant HYDRA…” Barnes began.

“Please tell me you’re not going with this where I think you are.” You groaned in protest.

“Not a chance.” Sam said simply. 

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets… Remember, Siberia?”

“You’re really going to just go and sit in a room with this guy? Remember what happened last time?” You challenged.

“Walker doesn’t have any leads.” Barnes reasoned.

“Alright.” Sam agreed. “Let’s go see Zemo.”

“Why do I feel like this will come back to get us?” You sighed but nodded. “Let’s do it.”

#ptyy sin miedo #tfaws #falcon and winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier fic #tfaws fic #yn stark #stark reader #Bucky Barnes #tfaws bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson #john walker #captain america #Winter Soldier #the falcon #marvel #mcu fic #marvel fic

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Star-Spangled Man (Steve Rogers X Reader) CATFA 10th Anniversary Challenge.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Swearing, tad of violence, (Spoilers: Enemies to lovers) 

Summary: You and Cap really don’t get along. Like give each other migraines don’t get along. But when a mission goes south and the both of you are literally trapped together, will true feelings be revealed? 

A/N: This is for @what-is-your-backupplan-today​ Captain America: The First Avenger 10th Anniversary Challenge! An awesome challenge if you want to get involved the link to the prompts is here.

Prompt: Well if it isn’t the star-spangled man with a plan! And what’s your plan today?

My Master List / Challenge Master List (Because we love supporting other people’s work!) 

You weren’t exactly sure what Fury was thinking when he practically forced to join the Avengers. He knew you didn’t exactly get along with them. Well correction you liked and got along with Nat and Clint. Bruce was also nice, Thor too. However stark was incredibly annoying and nobody pissed you off like Captain America.

The hatred towards the star spangled man was based off of the fact he had the biggest ego and a stick up his ass. The first time you ever had to go on a mission with him it nearly end-ed in a physical fight between the two of you. You were swearing at him as Nat and Clint dragged you away.

Before you met him you actually really admired the guy. He was one of your favourite history topics in school and you could remember arguing with your friends over which of the howling commandos was the cutest. And yes you may have favoured the Captain. So when you first got the opportunity to work with him you were so excited. The excitement was soon replaced by frustration when he questioned every choice you made and would treat you like a rookie. Despite you working with Shield well before he defrosted.

Quite often post mission you’d be in the gym working out your anger, either via target practice or a punching bag. This is where you currently were, you hadn’t been on a mission. Steve had just managed to piss you off in general.

Every bullet you fired you grumbled to yourself stating everything Steve had done to aggravate you.

“Surprised you didn’t add a star on the chest and an A on the head” Nat says grabbing your attention.

“I was tempted but that was too much effort, my imagination is good enough” you tell her not taking her eyes off the target as you shot another couple rounds.

“What did he do this time?” Nat asks picking up her own gun to join you.

“Same old same old, being hard ass about everything. Like seriously who does he think he is, insinuating I can’t do simple things. I’ve been doing this shit for years, well before he came out of the ice” you grumbled reloading your gun.

“I don’t know why Fury put me here, he knows I hate working with him yet he won’t let me leave” you add firing another round.

“Well you’re a good addition to the team and he was probably hoping you’d kick rogers down a peg or two” Nat tells you as she shoots a couple shots.

You shake your head at the idea “doubt it that man’s head is stuck so far up his own ass, he’s practically inside out. It’s impressive he even got it up there considering his inflated ego” you tell her making Nat laugh.

“Why do you care so much about what he thinks? You’ve never cared about what people think before” Nat asks putting her gun down turning to face you.

You turn to face her an incredulous look on your face “I don’t care what he thinks, i know my worth” you state.

“Good because Fury wants you and him to go on a mission together” Nat tells you with a smile.

“Fuck off” you groan shaking your head.

“Briefing is in 5 minutes, it’s my plan so it shouldn’t be too tedious for you” Nat says knowingly taking your gun from you.

“I hate you” you grumble as you follow her out of the gym.

“No you don’t” Nat laughs.

As soon as you walk into the conference room you see Steve sat down at the table.

“Nat no” he complains when he saw you.

“Yes Steve now suck it up” Nat states as you say down beside him.

“Okay the deal is that this arms dealer is throwing this gala. We’re pretty certain that it’s a front for a sale, but either way we need information” nat says pulling up the information on the target.

“Okay so we’ll-“ Steve starts but nat interrupts him.

“The plan is already in place Steve, you two are going in while the target is distracted (Y/N) will go in and get any information possible, while you keep on eye on the target ” nat ex-plains.

“Won’t they know us?” You ask her.

“No you’re still relatively unknown, a simple wig should suffice. Steve however we’ll dye your hair and you need to grow a beard. One last thing... your aliases are gonna be married” nat explains.

“No Nat, come on” Steve says complaining instantly.

“Yes Steve, this is the best way yo get both in there” Nat intersects.

You grumbled to yourself also not liking the idea. You disliked that fact Steve wasn’t happy about it either. Did he really despise you that much. Did he not think you could do it. You clenched your jaw sitting up in your chair.

“When do we go” you ask not missing the incredulous look Steve gave you.

You weren’t enjoying this mission at all. You thought Stark parties were bad enough but at least they were entertaining. This gala was incredibly boring, your company did not help. You had to try your hardest not to look up at Steve in disgust. Especially since you were sup-posed be married. Did kinda help that his blond hair was coloured brown and he’d grown a beard to help hide his identity.

Whenever the two of you walked around the gala he’d have his hand on your lower back. You had to try and not flinch at the spark like feeling whenever he did it. The two of you were currently at the bar, Steve had his arm around your shoulders as you looked around for your target.

“On the dance floor” Steve states flatly.

You have to try and not snap at him as your back bristles and you look over to the dance floor to see your target.

“I saw him” you lie grabbing your glass of wine and taking a large sip.

“Why you still looking around them” Steve retorts with a small scoff.

“Because I’m trying to be subtle unlike someone” you spit glaring up at him.

Steve doesn’t say anything but clenches his jaw and you feel his arm around you tense.

You down the rest of your drink before grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him towards the dance floor. You turn to face him placing a hand on his shoulder, grabbing his other hand and placing it on your hip.

“Try and not look so uncomfortable” you tell him as the two of you begin to dance and you see him visibly gulp.

“I’m not uncomfortable” he grumbles looking over your shoulder.

“He’s on the move” Steve tells you.

You glance over your shoulder to see your target moving over to the bar.

“It looks like the deal is going down, keep an eye on him while I snoop around” you tell him not waiting for him to protest as you walked away.

You made your way to the targets office, which was surprisingly and stupidly not monitored. Slipping inside you start looking through all the drawers taking photos of everything.

You pause for a moment when you realise how easy this all was. It shouldn’t be this easy right? You push that thought down, your target clearly was an idiot considering the lack of security. This was your job of course you’d find it easy.

You were just about to leave when guards burst through the door quickly surrounding you.

“Whoa whoa whoa, I was just looking for the bathroom” you say playing innocent as you held up your hands.

You see your target walk through the door with a smirk on his face. Where the hell was Steve!

“Give up the act sweetheart, you and cap couldn’t sell being a married couple” he tells you.

You move to make your escape but two large guards grab you quickly pinning you to the floor.

“Maybe but he won’t let you get away with this” you warn him with gritted teeth.

“Maybe but I don’t think he’ll be a problem” the guy states bending down beside you “take her away” he orders.

You try to fight but you feel a sharp prick in your neck and your limbs start to grow heavy. You try and fight the effects of whatever they injected you with but it was no use and you soon slumped in the guards arms.

When you woke back up it felt like you had the worst hangover in the history of hangovers. Sitting up you found your hands and ankles tied together. The room you were in definitely wasn’t the same place as the gala. It was a cold and damp cement cell with no windows.

You tried to free yourself but the it was no use the restraints weren’t budging. You were just hoping that the team knew something was wrong and were trying to find you. You had no clue where Steve was, you assumed he got out but you weren’t sure. Either way you weren’t happy with him, since he was supposed to watching your back.

You question was soon answered when the door to your cell opened and two large guards threw a restrained Steve into the cell.

“Well if it isn’t the star-spangled man with a plan! And what’s your plan today?” You state glaring over at him as he shuffled to a sitting position opposite you.

“Shut up” he grumbled.

“No seriously Steve what’s the plan because we wouldn’t be here if you were watching my back” you argue.

“I was watching your back!” Steve argues back.

“Then how the hell are we in the situation Steve! And you can’t blame me like you normally do because I followed the plan exactly” you yell glaring over at him.

“I don’t always blame you” Steve grumbles shaking his head.

“Yes you do! I don’t know why you hate me so much Steve! But you’re constantly on my case, insinuating I’m doing something wrong or that I’m bad at my job! It’s exhausting!” You cry out swallowing the lump that was forming in your throat. You looked away as your emotions began to get the better of you.

You hear Steve sigh deeply “I’m just trying to keep everyone safe” he says.

“Then why do you treat me differently to everyone else! You aren’t like this with Nat or Clint or even Tony!” You exclaim refusing to look at him.

“Because I don’t care about them as much as I care about you” you hear steve says quietly.

You look back over at him shocked, watching as he refuses to meet your eyes. Looking down at his restraints his fists clenching and unclenching.

“What?” You ask quietly.

“It’s nothing I know you hate me so just forget it okay” he sighs shaking his head sadly.

“Try me” you push making him look up at you.

“I’m on at you so much because if something happened to you I wouldn’t know what to do with myself” Steve admits shaking his head.

You look over at him lost for words at his admission.

“Steve I-“ you start unable to finish your train of thought let alone your sentence.

“It’s fine, I know you hate me its why i guess I’ve been a bit cold towards you. It was easier to pretend to hate you than let myself get hurt” Steve sighs.

“I don’t hate you, you irritate me yeah but I don’t hate you” you tell him making him scoff in disbelief.

“I’m serious, you know before we started working together I admired you, still do if I’m honest. Everything you did in the war and New York. So when I thought you didn’t think I was good enough it hurt because I did want to please you. I only had a problem with you because I thought you had a problem with me” you explain shrugging your shoulders with a sigh.

You hear Steve chuckle slightly “so you’re telling me that all this time we’ve caused each other headaches wasn’t because we hate each other” he says.

“Yep” you agree with a chuckle.

Silence falls between the two of you and you start to mull over what he said properly.

“Steve when you said you cared about me?” You start making Steve look over at you with a small nod.

“Is that care as in friend care? Or care as in more than friends care?” You ask him.

You watch him bit his lips slightly, and you knew he’d probably be scratching the back of his neck if he could.

“As in more than friends” Steve answers looking down avoiding your gaze and you could feel your heart flutter.

You nod your head taking in the new bit of information. You mind starts to replay moments that at the time you thought were only happening because of your distaste towards Steve. But maybes they were because deep down you actually really liked him. Like when you’d feel sparks whenever he touched you.

“Good, because I feel the same” you tell him making him look back at you surprised.

“Really?” He asks.

You nod your head before shuffling over towards him until you were knelt beside him. Lift-ing your hands as best as you could you cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips hesitantly against his.

He instantly responds kissing you back, you could feel him trying to move his hands to you but his restraints stop him.  You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss. Yeah you liked him, you definitely 100% liked him.

The two of you were so preoccupied you missed the sounds of the team coming to rescue you until the cell door opened and you were met with the sight of Tony looking down at you.

“Not a word Stark” the both of you warn simultaneously.

“Not a word just glad the sexual tension finally amounted to something”  Tony says walking in and freeing the both of you.

You just rolled your eyes at him and Steve scoffed quietly.

“The team have the base pretty much secured so we just got to get you to the jet” Tony explains as the three of you start walking out.

Steve halts grabbing your hand also pulling you to a stop. You raise a brow looking up at him about the question him but you don’t get a chance before he grabs you by the hips and crashes his lips against yours.

You smile into the kiss wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him closer. You hear tony groan in annoyance but you really don’t care. You were enjoying kissing Steve far too much.

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#CATFA 10th anniversary challenge #Writing challenge #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #captainamerica #mcu #marvel #Avengers #The Avengers

[blazingparker]

What’s Up, Danger? (Chapter 3)

Here it is! the final chapter of What’s Up, Danger? As I’ve said before, I was totally blown away by the response to this fic. Thank you to all of you who commented, left kudos, reblogged, and everything else!!

read it on ao3!

---

“JARVIS, what time is it?” Tony called out as he fiddled with repairing one of the gauntlets on one of his older suits. It had gotten damaged during the battle of Sokovia, and he’d just built a new one rather than ever repairing it. Now, with his refusal to go after Spider-Man and the lack of other missions, he’d had plenty of time to catch up on lab projects and even fix up his old suit.

“It is currently 2:37 in the morning on Friday, January 25th, sir. Might I suggest you retire and get some rest?” Tony frowned, setting down his tools. Peter still hadn’t called him, and he never stayed out patrolling this late when he had a class the next day.

Peter. The last few weeks with Peter had been some of the best of Tony’s life, hands down. While they still hadn’t defined their relationship, they were more than friends and there were definitely too many feelings involved for them to just be fuck buddies.

For once, Tony didn’t dread the early hours of the morning when JARVIS would hound him to head to bed. He’d talk on the phone with Peter, listen to how his day went and maybe tell him about his latest project before they would hang up with whispered words of affection and head to bed. On particularly good nights, he’d meet Peter in his apartment with takeout (Tony wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking he could cook, come on) and they’d cuddle up on the couch with a movie. Sometimes, he’d need to stitch Peter up or help him out of his suit to tend to his injuries, which he was always more than happy to do. Things were perfect. They were perfect.

In fact, the only reason why Tony hadn’t asked Peter to be his boyfriend yet was because he knew the young man had enough on his plate without adding the media frenzy that came with dating a billionaire. Not to mention the Avengers would find out, and that would make it even harder for Peter to keep his identity a secret.

Tony wasn’t really known for being a patient man, but for Peter? For Peter, he’d wait.

Well, not tonight. Tonight, he was done waiting. It was close to three in the morning and Peter still hadn’t called, which was highly unusual.

“JARVIS, pull up the local news.” Tony turned and leaned back against the lab table and brought his mug of coffee to his lips. Maybe Peter had gotten held up with a bigger issue, like another burning building or a larger threat that required more time to take care of. If that was the case, the local news would definitely be covering it.

What they were actually covering made him drop his coffee mug, the ceramic dish shattering when it made impact with the floor.

A blonde newscaster was speaking, but Tony tuned her out in favor of reading the tagline and watching the footage.

Spider-Man Abducted by the Avengers. There was a shaky video, likely recorded by an unassuming passerby, of Peter standing on a roof with his chest heaving. Then, out of nowhere and seemingly for no reason, he tensed. A second later, a dart could be seen sticking out of his neck. Tony’s chest filled with dread as he watched Peter pluck it out and stare at it, swaying in place. When Peter collapsed, Tony actually made a move as if he could catch the young man, and felt fury bubble up when he saw what happened next.

Steve fucking Rogers caught Peter, quickly restraining him with a pair of vibranium cuffs before slinging him over his shoulder and carrying him off.

“--people of Queens are furious. There are talks of a march on Avengers tower. They have protected us from larger threats, yes. But Spider-Man was the one looking out for the people of Queens and New York at large every day. Where were the Avengers when Lacy Collins was almost assaulted last week, when Spider-Man rescued her? Where were the Avengers--”

Tony wasn’t listening anymore. The newscaster was right, of course, Peter was better than all of them. Peter deserved nothing but the Avengers’ respect and instead he’d gotten a dart to the neck and vibranium cuffs. He stormed out of the lab, grabbing his cell phone.

“JARVIS, dial Patriotic Fucker,” he all but growled as he got into the elevator. “And take me to the suit lab on level forty. The one with the landing platform.” There was no way they’d bring Peter back to the tower, which meant Tony needed a suit. Now.

“Tony, we caught him!” Steve cried out after picking up on the first ring.

“How fucking dare you,” Tony said lowly. “The mission was to learn his identity, Rogers. Not drug him and arrest him!” By the end, he was yelling into the phone. “Where the fuck did you take him?”

“Tony-I thought this was the best course of action. He was avoiding us even more.”

“Because Clint took a fucking shot at him! If an Avenger tried to take you out, would you really be peachy-keen and excited to chat?!” Tony screamed. “You star-spangled shit, you’ve compromised everything! As if he’s ever going to work with us now, after this little stunt! Not to mention they’re talking about protests against us on the news!” Taking a deep breath, he exited the elevator and made a beeline for the nanotech suit he’d just finished up. Grabbing the little housing unit, he placed it against his chest and double-tapped it, allowing the suit to encase his body.

“Clint and I are with him at the compound. We’re upstate.” Steve’s reply came after a beat of silence, and he actually sounded remorseful. Fucking finally, Tony had a location. He blasted out of the lab and away from the tower, JARVIS automatically plugging in directions for the fastest route to the compound.

“Did Natasha know about this? What about Banner, or Thor?” Tony barked out, determined to get as much information as possible before he got there. He wanted to be able to put his full focus on Peter, not these idiots.

“No. Clint and I made the call. They’re not to blame for this, Tony.”

“Oh, and that makes things better? You kidnapped my-” Tony hesitated. Peter wasn’t technically his anything. “My Spider-Man,” he finished lamely.

“Yeah, we’re gonna have a chat about that, Tony. About the Stark Tech he’s wearing, and how your number is saved in his phone under the name ‘Snarky Bitch’. You’ve known. You knew this kid and didn’t tell the team.” Tony found his blood running cold for the second time that night.

You knew this kid.

“Steve Rogers, did you take off his mask?” He yelled, and the silence on the other end was enough of an answer. Feeling fury take over, Tony let go of any semblance of restraint he still had. That was the final straw. Peter had taken his secret identity incredibly seriously, and he deserved to reveal it to whomever he chose. Not have that choice taken from him.

“Yes, I know him. I know his name, and I’ve been helping him out,” Tony seethed. “Unlike you, you frozen fuck, I got him to trust me. He trusted me, and I helped him in return. He deserved that much. He’s sweet and kind and everything the world seems to think you are. But they were wrong. The great Captain America that the world knows would never drug and kidnap a college kid just because they didn’t do what he wanted.”

“Tony.” The voice on the other end cracked, and Tony smirked. Steve knew he was right.

“I expect you to be gone by the time I get there, which will be in about twenty minutes. You’d better stay away from him until I say otherwise, or I swear on my mother’s grave that your face will be meeting my gauntlet. Capische?”

“Understood. And-for what it’s worth, Tony, I’m sorry. I really thought this was the right call.” Tony huffed out a sigh.

“For future reference, if the plan involves drugs and kidnapping, it’s not the right call.” With that, he hung up on Steve and focused on getting to the compound as fast as he could. After a painstakingly long flight he arrived, storming through the doors and down to the detention level where he knew Peter would be. Tony exited the suit and put it on sentry mode, striding purposefully down the hall of cells, looking, searching--

Tony came to a dead stop in front of the last cell on the right and felt his heart fall right out of his body. It was Peter: restrained to a chair, in his suit but without his mask. His head lolled to the side and if Tony couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest, he might have thought the young man was dead. Each of his legs was tied down to the chair and his hands were behind his back, likely in the vibranium cuffs still.

“JARVIS, unlock,” Tony whispered weakly, and rushed in as soon as the glass door slid open. Gently brushing Peter’s curls out of his face, he dropped to his knees in front of the man. “I’m so sorry, Peter. So, so sorry,” he whispered before making his way around to the cuffs so he could get Peter’s hands free.

---

Peter woke slowly, blinking against harsh light and instinctively letting out a groan of pain when his headache made itself known. Instinctively, he tried to rub his temple and couldn’t keep from whining softly when his hands were held down.

“Sit still, Pete. Please. I’m trying, okay? I promise, I’m trying.” Tony’s voice? That didn’t make any sense, Peter had been on patrol.

Patrol.

It all came flooding back to him - the dart, his dizziness, and the vague feeling of being restrained and carried off. After that, nothing. Now, he was awake and clearly restrained and Tony was there.

Tony had sold him out? Peter didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only thing that made sense. Tony was doing something with his cuffs and he was tied down tightly, unable to move. Tony knew his routines and when he liked to head home, and could have told the Avengers when it would be best to strike. When he’d be the most exhausted.

You idiot, he thought to himself. Peter dropped his head to his chest and tried desperately to fight back tears, not wanting Tony to know he was awake. As Spider-Man, he’d been shot, stabbed, punched and kicked. But this? This hurt the worst of anything he’d ever experienced.

All of a sudden, there was a loud bang and the pressure on his hands was gone. Peter pitched forward with a squeak of surprise, not expecting to be freed. Strong hands caught him and gently eased him back into the chair.

“Peter? You back with me?” Tony was in front of him now, face etched with concern as he brushed Peter’s hair out of his eyes and moved his hands down to his wrists. The older man gently massaged them, trying to ease any soreness as Peter slowly looked up at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, shocked at how raspy his voice sounded. Tony just stared at him, confused.

“Because Steve and Clint are idiots, and this never should have happened. Bambi, I’m so sorry I didn’t check in sooner, I thought you were patrolling.” Tony started to ramble, and Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You didn’t...do this?” He asked, and winced at the horror that instantly took over Tony’s face.

“I’d never. I’d never, ever do something like this to you. You’re my Danger, my sweet-hearted vigilante who puts everyone ahead of himself and who I adore. I’m so sorry. If I’d known-” Tony was cut off by the swift press of Peter’s lips against his. Peter didn’t know why he’d doubted Tony for a second. Of course he would never sell him out - why would he help him and why would they be...whatever they were...if Tony’s whole endgame was to unmask him? He would have bailed after Peter pulled the mask off that one night all those weeks ago if that had been the case.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, hiccuping as he tried to keep the tears at bay. “I just-I woke up and felt you doing something with my hands and I thought-I thought-”

“You thought I was putting you in the cuffs instead of taking you out of them,” Tony murmured in understanding. Peter just nodded as the other man focused on releasing his legs.

“I’m sorry-” he tried to repeat but was stopped by a finger against his lips. As soon as the finger was removed, it was replaced with a set of soft lips.

“No apologies, Bambi,” Tony whispered, and Peter just nodded again. He still felt exhausted and sluggish, likely because of the drugs making their way through his system. Luckily, Tony seemed to read his mind. “How about we head up to my private rooms, get something to eat, and watch a movie? Hm? Just like we always do.”

“That sounds nice,” Peter murmured back, pecking Tony’s lips one more time. He then grasped the man’s hand, slowly standing up and yelping in shock when his knees immediately gave out and he went crashing towards the floor.

That never happened, though. He was caught in a pair of strong arms and lifted up in a princess carry as Tony prevented the cold concrete from greeting his face. Peter’s arms instinctively wrapped around Tony’s neck.

“I’m sure I can walk if I could just try again,” Peter tried to protest, and Tony leaned their foreheads together.

“Let me do it. You’ve probably still got some stuff in your system, and I’ve been worried sick ever since I saw the news. Just let me take care of you. Let me take care of my-” Tony cut himself off, hesitating.

“Boyfriend,” Peter blurted out before staring at Tony with wide eyes. You don’t know that he wants that, Parker. His friends literally just drugged and kidnapped you, he’s probably just feeling protective--

“Boyfriend,” Tony repeated. A huge, real smile was plastered on his face as he held Peter even closer. “Let me take care of my boyfriend.” Blushing, Peter responded by simply pressing his face into Tony’s neck as though it would allow him to hide. After a split second, he pressed a soft kiss to the skin there. Tony nuzzled his face into Peter’s hair for a moment before turning and walking out of the cell.

“You know, I never got to hear about your night. Before all this, I mean,” Tony remarked as he carried Peter towards the elevator.

“I guess not,” Peter mused, pulling back just enough to look up at his boyfriend. Boyfriend, he could say that now.

“So...what’s up, Danger?”

“Oh my god.”

#blazingparker writes #starker #starker fic #starker community #peter parker x tony stark

[scarletdawnxx-blog]

Bucky Barnes x Reader One shot

“Are you sure you are ready to do this?” you asked Bucky barely able to contain your laughter.

  “Very ready,” He replied with a grin looking you up and down in the costume you had on and licking his lips making you blush under his gaze. The two of you had been peas in a pod since the moment he had arrived at the compound. Picking on Steve being your favorite thing to do together. The two of you had been working on your plan for his birthday for weeks. You could always count on Tony turn a small gathering of friends into a full blown party.

 You peeked around the corner into the room where everyone was gathered and queued F.R.I.D.A.Y. to really get the party started.

 “Captain Rogers, Ms. Y/N and Sargent Barnes have prepared a special birthday surprise for you.” She announced and Steve groaned when he heard the song. You rushed out and took your spot. The red and white skirt swishing against your thighs. You gave Steve a wink before you started singing…

Who's strong and brave, here to save the American Way?

Everyone erupted into laughter as Bucky came out wearing a replica of Steve’s old costume and holding his shield.

 “Not all of us can storm a beach or drive a tank, but there's still a way all of us can fight” Bucky started copying Steve from all those terrible Captain America propaganda films. The two of you smiling and enjoying every minute of this.

Who vows to fight like a man for what's right night and day? 

You continued, the two of you moving perfectly around each other having practiced the routine more than a few times, always ending in both of you almost crying from laughing so hard. It had warmed your heart seeing Bucky so carefree and laughing. He had a devastating smile and you knew exactly why he had been such a ladies man in the forties.

“Series-E defense bonds; each one you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy's gun.”

Who will campaign door-to-door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America From Hoboken to Spokane The Star Spangled Man with a Plan!

“We all know this is about trying to win the war, but we can't do that without bullets and bandages, tanks and tents. That's where you come in, every bond you buy will help protect someone you love, keep our boys armed and ready and the Germans will think twice about trying to get the drop on us.”

“I’m gonna get the drop on you,” Steve yelled making his way to the two of you, you squealed with laughter before starting to run away from the approaching super soldier. The whole room was a roar of laughter.

“Do you not like your gift Captain?” you asked laughing the whole way, Bucky in tow as you made your way through the crowd. Bucky tossed the shield towards Steve causing enough distraction for the two of you to get away, finally stopping when you hit the night air outside of the compound. The two of you laughing and trying to catch your breath. “Oh that was priceless, I hope Stark got that all on camera.”

 “Knowing Tony, its already on the internet.” Bucky chuckled sweeping you up into hug and spinning you around. “That brain of yours better start working on a new way to torture him.” 

“Only if you help me pull it off,” You said smiling up at him as he put you down. 

“Always,” he said smiling. The lines around his eyes crinkling. “You coming back inside?” he asked hearing thunder in the distance. A storm was moving in. 

“No I think I’m going to stay out here for a minute.” You said waling further away from the compound, into the night air, watching the storm clouds roll in. 

“Don’t come crying to me if you get caught in the rain.” He said watching you, crossing his arms. 

“What? Scared of a little water? Afraid that arm of yours will rust up Tinman?” you teased him just as the skies opened up and started to down pour. You tilted your head back and felt the drops hit your face, stretching your arms out and dancing in the rain. Bucky watched you closely, and you met his eyes, a smile on your face. You couldn’t help but smile when he was around, big make your cheeks hurt smiles, but seeing the look on his face made your breath catch in your throat and your heart pound, it stopped you instantly. “You just going to stare at me?” you asked raising a brow at him, baiting him. 

“What can I say, I like the view.” He looked so calm and casual leaning against one the beams that held up the large glass portico. 

“It’s even better out here,” you called to him, walking even further into the open field, spinning around, arms thrown wide. You forgot how fast Bucky was because before you could register what was happening you were in his arms again. You couldn’t help but admit it was your favorite place to be. You put your arms around his neck as he cradled you in his arms, the weight of you nothing to him and his super solider strength. 

“You’re right, the view is much better out here.” He said his eyes going to your lips before meeting your gaze. Of course, you had mused to yourself more than once, what it would be like to kiss him, to have him come to your bed at night, but you never wanted to ruin the friendship, never let it go further than a little light teasing, but now, in his arms, feeling his breath on your neck, your heart felt like it would leap from your chest. Another boom of thunder made you jump, the nervousness getting to you. You let go of him and put yourself back on the ground. 

“We should probably go back in, before it gets too bad out here,” you said, wanting the tension of the moment to break. Bucky just looked at you confused. You tried looking anywhere but his face. 

“If that’s what you want,” he said in a quite voice, his hand trail down your arm, causing you to shudder, his eyes still studying your lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you said feeling extremely self-conscious all the sudden. 

“Like what?” he said stepping closer to you, but you took a step back, pulling your arm from his grasp and wrapping them around yourself. 

“Like you are going to devour me.” You said annoyed with his teasing. He had never teased you like this before and you didn’t like it, didn’t like feeling as if he was…mocking you somehow. 

“Maybe I do,” he took another step closing that distance again, the rain continuing to pour on you both. 

“Don’t” you breathed.

“Don’t what Y/N?” you looked up at him, those blue eyes watching you so intently, shining with more than teasing, but with want, desire. “Tell me you don’t feel it too.” 

“You want me to lie and say I have never thought about it, thought about us, of course I have, but what if I fuck it all up and ruin what we have now. You’re my best friend Barnes, I can’t, I won’t lose that.” You admitted to him. He laughed and you soured at it, brushing past him and heading back towards the compound. Bucky’s hand grabbed your arm and whirled you around crashing your body into his before his lips met yours. His vibranium hand reaching around to the back of your neck deepening the kiss, his tongue urging your lips to part. You melted into him, your arms snaking around his waist, as he slid his another around your back. You stood there kissing in the rain, finally letting yourself feel more than just friendship. 

“Hey, will you two stop trying to eat each other and get out of the rain,” Sam yelled out at the two of you. Bucky broke the kiss and whispered. “I’m going to kill him.” You chuckled and looked up at him. 

“This isn’t over,” he said kissing your forehead before turning to Sam with a deadly glare. “You best run Birdman.” He said taking off towards Sam who quickly made his way back inside. You laughed watching him, your face hurt from smiling, again, your heart leaping in your chest as you finally made your way back inside. Steve’s birthday was now your favorite day of the year for sure.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #marvel #captain america #steve rogers #the avengers #reader insert

[what-is-your-plan-today]

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

Drabble- Fuck Off, Clown

Summary: It’s Halloween, and Jamie’s outfit isn’t quite to Steve’s liking. Warnings: Non- some bad language...some almost smut, but nothing major...and a Super Soldier with coulrophobia... A/N: So if you all remember in Phobias, Steve admits to Katie he has a fear of clowns. I do as well, so this came out of a little fun chat with my Evangers (you know who you are girls) as a further expansion on the incident referred to in The Devil Wears Nada. Takes place during the 5 years post Snap. Hope you enjoy!

October 2022

“All set?” Katie asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs as Steve walked back into the hall having loaded their bags into the car. They were heading off to Tony’s lake-house for a few days where he was throwing a bit of a Halloween party, nothing major but it was a chance for the kids to get dressed up in costumes and eat a load of candy whilst the adults could kick back and drink. Katie was looking forward to it for two reasons. Firstly, it was always nice to gather together with friends and family, well those of them that were left post snap-it made her feel normal, and she could push that persistent feeling of sadness that seemed to manifest on a daily basis, back down into the depth of her mind. And secondly, she was a little excited because she had no idea what Emmy or Jamie’s outfits were going to be. Emmy had asked a month or so ago if she could be in charge of getting the pair of them costumes and Katie had agreed, simply handing over her card when she wanted to order whatever it was off the internet. She’d even resisted the urge to check her statement to see what it was as Emmy had demanded she didn’t try and find out. Katie had a sneaking suspicion that Tony had also been involved in these costume choices, as the last time her brother had been over a few weeks ago, the pair of them had been huddled on the large arm chair, sniggering as they looked at something on Tony’s phone. With that in mind she was expecting Jamie to come down in some form of Iron Man or Captain America costume and she had every intention of filming Steve’s response.

“Yup. Locked and loaded.” Steve nodded, dropping a kiss to her cheek. As soon as the kids are ready we can go.”

“No rush.” Katie shrugged, looking at her watch as they walked into the kitchen. “We don’t need to be there for a few hours.” She wrinkled her nose and slapped at Steve’s hand as he went to peek under the foil wrapped plate on the side. He sharply withdrew it and grinned at her.

“Tell me that’s a pie.”

“Apple and pumpkin, but it’s for the party.”

Steve pouted and she laughed and jerked her head behind her “There’s another there as I knew you wouldn’t be able to wait.”

“You-” Steve pecked her lips “-are” another peck “-the best.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere Captain.” She smirked as his lips hovered over hers, before he deepened the kiss slightly, both his hands sliding down to give her ass a playful squeeze before he stepped back and walked over to his coveted prize. Steve peeled back the little cloth that was over the top and gave a little groan that was positively sinful as he inhaled the smell.

“Don’t eat that straight out of the pie dish.” Katie warned him as he made his way to the freezer for the ice cream, “I was gonna cut a few slices for the kids to munch on the way.”

“Then they can get their own.” Steve grumbled a little, but he grabbed a plate none the less.

“Oh yeah, where from?” Katie asked, her hands on her hips.

“Don’t know, don’t care…” Steve muttered as he cut himself a huge slice of the coveted pie. He ladled a generous amount of vanilla ice cream on top then carried it over to the breakfast bar, sitting down as Katie gathered the rest of the food items she had said she would bring which included a huge dish of Mac and Cheese that she’d coloured green with food colouring, spaghetti and meatballs that were supposed to be worms,  cinnamon and apple cookies in the shape of pumpkins and a batch of home-made raspberry and cherry gin which had been done using the raspberries and cherries from the brambles and trees in their small orchard at the bottom of the garden. She began packing it all into a hamper as Steve took the first bit of his pie and gave another groan.

“You know…” he swallowed, waving his fork at her as he gave her a playful grin “I think this pie is actually better than sex.”

Katie looked at him, arching her eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“It’s a very close call.” He nodded.

“Well maybe I should make you a pie once a week instead of letting you get me on my back.” Katie looked at him, closing the lid on the basket and pushing it to one side, leaning over the breakfast bar.

“Ok, first off we have sex way more than once a week.” Steve pointed his fork at her “and second-“ his eyes glinted cheekily “-you’re not always on your back.”

“True.” Katie pursed her lips and reached for his fork, snatching it from his hand “But if you think I’m baking a pie more than once a week you’ve got another thing coming.” She used the fork to take a piece of the sweet treat along with a large blog of ice cream and shoved it in her mouth, closing her eyes. She moaned a little, ensuring that the noise that left her throat was as sinful as she could make it, before she opened her eyes and used her thumb to wipe at a little trickle of ice cream in the corner of her mouth. With her eyes locked on Steve she sucked her thumb clean and smirked a little at the familiar glint of dark in his eyes that he always got when he was turned on.

“You’re lucky you’re the other side of the breakfast bar.” He leaned forward a little, elbows resting on the marble surface, his voice a low timbre that sent those familiar sparks up Katie’s spine.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Katie asked innocently, ignoring the sudden flutter she’d felt between her legs at his tone.

“Because if you weren’t you be in my lap right now testing my theory.”

“Shame…” she nodded, looking around. “I mean it’s not like you could reach and drag me over it or anything.”

“Well I could…” Steve agreed “But there’s a piece of pie in the way. And it’s too good to waste.”

“You’re a jerk!” Katie shook her head as Steve laughed, before he leaned back in the stool and patted his right thigh

“C’mere pretty girl.”

Katie grinned, the sound of him calling her pretty girl always did things to her, as did the soft instruction to ‘come here’ in his Brooklyn accent. She rounded the bar and he reached out, easily pulling her onto his lap so she was perched sideways, legs hanging over the side of his right thigh as he curled his left arm around her waist, right gently resting on her thigh. Katie’s right arm slid round his neck and he titled his face to look at her.

“Just for the record you taste far better than any pie you make.” He grinned and Katie’s mouth fell open at his dirty comment.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” she snorted, slapping his shoulder slightly and he laughed, his hand on her thigh tightening its grip slightly, fingers curling round the toned muscles which were evident once again due to Katie having started training again. Steve actually kind of missed the softness that she’d had since having Jamie but he was damned if he was going to tell her that. As long as she was comfortable in her body that was fine by him. He leaned towards her slightly, his nose bumping hers a little as she gently trailed her hand over the nape of his neck, nails scratching just below his hair line above the collar of his black sweater.

“Love you.” He said gently, his lips brushing hers and she smiled, her fingers tanging in the hair at the back of his head.

“More than apple pie?” she teased and he chuckled.

“Infinitely Mrs Rogers.”

“More than Mac and Cheese?” Steve hesitated and Katie scoffed “Rude.” Before he laughed again and pressed his lips to hers.

“For the record I love you more than anything.” He smiled “Well, apart from the kids.”

“I’ll accept that exception.” Katie chuckled, he mouth finding his again. The kiss deepened, Katie letting out a soft sigh as his tongue brushed against hers, tasting the apple pie and Ice Cream he had been eating before. Steve’s hand skated up the outside of her thigh coming to rest on her hip, finger tips brushing the strip of skin where her top had ridden up slightly as her own hand fisted slightly in his hair. Completely lost in one another they almost missed the little footsteps coming down the stairs and the giggles in the hallway. Almost, that is. Steve’s tuned hearing heard it first and he pulled back, looking at Katie who grinned.

“Play your cards right we can finish this later.”

“At Tony’s?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged “Won’t be the first time we fucked in his spare room.”

Steve snorted at her and patted her ass as she hopped off his lap.

“Mom, Dad!” Emmy called “We’re ready for you to see us!”

“We heard!” Katie called back as Steve stood up, grabbing his plate of pie. He took another bite before he wandered into the hallway where he collided with Katie who had stopped dead just outside the door. Frowning he looked up and stopped dead.

A clown.

His 2 year old son was dressed as a fucking clown. And not just any clown, which would have been bad enough, but that bastard clown from IT. The film he refused time and time again to watch because of said bastard clown…which was now stood on the bottom step of the stairs holding a red balloon.

And suddenly, all he could see was that damned clown at Coney Island chasing him through the stalls, Bucky’s laughter echoing in his ears…and then that fucking mirror maze where he’d had the panic attack as he was surrounded by them.

The plate holding his precious pie slipped from his hand and dropped to the tiled floor, where it broke into 3 pieces, its contents splattering all over the grey slate.

“Woah, Dad…didn’t think it would be that scary!” Emmy grinned from behind Jamie as she stood in her outfit, which was a superb replica of the Wicked Witch of the West complete with full green face-paint and a broomstick.

Katie looked over her shoulder at Steve and she could see from his face that he was really struggling to keep it together. Trying not to laugh at the expression of sheer horror on his handsome features, she clamped her lips together and turned to Emmy.

“Your dad’s…” she took a deep breath, trying not to laugh “He’s scared of clowns.”

“Oh…” Emmy frowned “Uncle Tony said he would love it.”

“I bet he did.” Steve bit out a little harshly and Emmy looked at him.

“Are you mad?” she asked and seeing the look on her face Steve inwardly cursed his phobia and his damned brother in law.

“No, honey…” he shook his head “Not at all…you both look…” he trailed off.

“Daddy, look!” Jamie grinned, and he jumped off the bottom step “Balloon!”

He toddled over towards Steve who automatically took a few steps back and Jamie stopped in front of him, right by Katie’s side, a confused expression crossing his painted face. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, pal…I gotta…” Steve exhaled “I gotta put some stuff in the car so we can to go to Uncle Nee’s ok?”

“Kay…” Jamie said a little quietly.

Katie watched, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter as Steve went to move round Jamie, turning sideways so he could keep his eyes on him, before he pushed past Emmy and bolted up the stairs taking them 3 at a time.

The hallway was silent bar the sounds Lucky was making as he cleaned up the remnants of the pie on the floor, not wanting to miss a single crumb of his human food treasure.

“Em, why don’t you two take Lucky and go get in the car, we’ll be out in a little moment.”

“Ok. Come on Jay!” Em said. She grabbed his hand but Jamie, clearly now finding the reaction his dad had as amusing, turned to his mom and made a little growling noise at her. Katie gave a fake scream and jolted back, causing Jamie to cackle a little, tilting his head back in mirth before he toddled after his sister.

As soon as they were out of sight and earshot Katie started to laugh. She laughed so hard that she had to retreat to the kitchen to sit at a chair. She doubled over, clutching at her stomach, trying to gather her breath as the tears poured down her face. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the image of Steve fighting the urge to punt his own son into another room out of her head.

Eventually she managed to sort herself out enough to grab her phone and swiped over to the number she wanted.

“Hey Kiddo.” Tony greeted

“Tony, you…” she started to laugh again “You better be able to run fast because Steve…he’s…”

Tony chuckled “he liked the costume then…”

“Tony he freaked.” She laughed “Like, seriously…poor Steve. I expected like a full Captain America outfit, not that!”

“Well, on this occasion the Spangles just weren’t enough”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“It’s been said.” He conceded “Did you get it on video?”

“No.” Katie sighed “I was going to but when I saw Pennywise on my damned stairs I knew what was gonna happen so…”

“Shame.” Tony sighed, “We could have played that back later. For science.”

At that point Katie looked up as Steve walked into the kitchen, glancing round.

“He’s not in here…” She chuckled and Steve glared at her, before he gestured to the phone.

“That Tony?”

She nodded.

He reached out and snatched the phone off her, “You’re a dead man.” He growled down the handset, and Katie could hear her brother’s roar of laughter before Steve hung up and tossed the phone down onto the table.

“Calm down!” Katie laughed, standing up “Steve, it’s just a costume.” “Katie, they freak me the hell out!” he shook his head “You don’t…” his hands dropped to his hips and his head dropped “Did you see his face when I backed away?”

“Oh, he’s fine!” Katie said, rubbing Steve’s arms “He couldn’t care less.” Steve took a deep breath and she looked at him “Do you want me to get him to change?”

Steve shook his head “No, he was so pleased with himself…plus, I don’t fancy that particular tantrum now do you?”

“Not really no.”

Steve shrugged “Then I guess I’m stuck with it. Come on, let’s get gone. Sooner we get there the sooner I can carry out my threat to kill your asshole brother.”

Steve grabbed the food hamper and headed out to the car with it, settling it onto the trunk of the car as Katie got into the passenger side. Once Steve finished his usual checks to ensure the door was locked, he climbed into the driver’s seat ant they set off.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah buddy?” Steve asked, glancing in the mirror automatically and once more was confronted by that fucking clown. He swallowed and turned his eyes to the front.

“No scared, daddy. I not real clown.”

Katie chuckled as Steve pulled out of the drive onto the road. “I know pal, but it’s Halloween. Everyone gets scared at some point.”

Jamie nodded, accepting his answer and turned to look out of the window. As they approached a junction, Steve checked the mirror again and then sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re gonna hafta drive.” He looked at Katie.

“What?”

“I can’t do it.” He shrugged “Every time I check the mirror, all I can see is…” “Are you being serious?” Katie looked at him.

“Absolutely.” Steve unclipped the seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

And right then Katie vowed that if Steve didn’t kill Tony, she was gonna.

#what the stark spangled fuck #steve rogers #dad steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x oc #katie stark