#Bucky and doc
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Where there’s a Bucky, there’s an Asshat
Gif from Google
Summary: Things were going great with Asshat, he loved being a brat, he loved taming said brat. But when two old friend last pop up, Steve’s insecurities eat at him. Can he fix the damage he caused?
This is the follow up to Captain Asshat Lives Here. You can read it here!
Steve Rogers x Reader (Nickname Brat), Bucky x Doc, Clint, Sam, Thor, Loki, Tony, and Wizard the Goat!
Word Count: Over 10k, sorry!
Warnings: 18+only, minors this is not for you. Thor and Loki need their own warning, Bucky and Doc, Asshat being mean, Smut, angst, Steve lives up to Asshat, Bucky does too
AN: this is my Avengers AU where I make up their lives as a I go. Thank you the amazing, gorgeous, talented @peyton-warren for helping me make this chapter happen. You are so amazing and a wonderful friend! All mistakes are mine and mine alone
The room filled quickly, the team making room for everyone who needed orders for the next mission. You walked in, balancing three trays of coffee, a different drink for each person on the team. Frozen, vanilla, plain, cream, no coffee, whip cream, any and everything you could think to add to coffee was in one of these trays.
You received splattered thank you’s from most of the team, grateful for some sort of caffeine for the meeting held at the Devil’s hour. You handed Steve his black, plain coffee-big surprise there-expecting a thank you at minimum. What you didn’t expect was to be treated as if you were an annoyance, pushed aside without a word uttered. “You’re welcome,” you whispered as you dropped into your seat, your face heated from embarrassment. You glanced over at Doc who mouthed I’m sorry. You shrugged your shoulders in resignation, Steve not having been in the best mood at all lately.
While Asshat tended to be short with everyone, you were the only one who ever talked back. Asshat loved when you were a brat, his brat, because there was nothing he loved more than taming you. In fact, due to fighting and flat out fucking, Tony had to soundproof your entire floor and both of your apartments.
While you loved him, you weren’t ready to fully hand over your space. Asshat was okay with it, for the most part, but he had been pushing more for moving in together. You just weren’t fully there, and you had a feeling this was part of the reason for the return of Captain Asshat.
If you were being completely honest, you loved being his brat and you thrived on being tamed. After everything in your history, Steve was the only man you had ever given control to, and while you absolutely loved it, you were also terrified by it. You two pushed and pulled against each other, but at the end of the day, there was no mistaking the love you shared.
You couldn’t help feeling he could do better, find someone who wasn’t so damaged, someone who would be ready to take the next step without hesitation. His return to Captain Asshat only helped to solidify your anxiety; you weren’t honestly sure how much longer the two of you would be together if something didn’t give.
You laughed as you watched Doc punch Bucky’s arm, then whisper at him to get his best friend under control. Bucky looked over at you, trying to be angry, but losing the battle once he was slapped upside the head Dinozzo style.
He rubbed the back off his head, and moved to sit next to his best friend. To say Steve was stressed was an understatement. Bucky wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, but he knew if you two didn’t figure it out, he was going to be moving in with Wizard, the goat. Having his girl as your best friend was making his life miserable. He loved Steve, he adored you, but every time something happened between the two of you, Doc punished him as well. He’d only just been allowed back into their bed, for fuck sake.
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Steve said as he ran his hand over his face in obvious frustration. He didn’t want to talk about his issues ever, but especially not here around everyone. He glanced around the room, stopping to watch you, your focus on your phone.
He didn’t understand why he was so tense, he knew your background, knew everything you had been through, but you not wanting to take the next step made him feel insecure. He felt he was little Stevie again, the one who didn’t get the girl, the one who was always sick, the one who was always fighting.
Steve looked over at you again, his jealousy spiking as he watched you, Sam, and Clint laugh at a video on your phone. He couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed like that with him, not that he could blame you. He knew he was being an ass, and yet he couldn’t stop the train from crashing.
You looked over at Steve, your laugh dying down and your smile fading as you saw the look on his face. Was this Asshat seriously jealous of your friendships? You rolled your eyes, sighing loudly and with exaggerated annoyance just to make sure the Ass got the point.
Steve stood, starting to make his way towards you, stopped in his tracks as the door flew open, hitting him in the nose. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” he yelled, blood pouring from his nose. Doc stood, rushing to his side, grabbing his nose and resetting it before he had a chance to say anything else. “Fuck, Doc! Warn me next time!”
“You don’t deserve a warning, not after this morning,” Doc replied, grabbing an ice pack from the first aid kit, breaking it open and placing it not so nicely on the super soldier’s nose. She smirked as he yelped again, making sure to walk past you on her way back to her seat. You held out your fist, bumping Doc’s in thanks as she walked past.
You felt badly, of course, but you also felt like the dick deserved it. Just as you were going to check on him, a familiar voice invaded the room.
“Your savior is here!” he said, followed by a flourish of green fabric and black hair as he entered the room. “My apologies to the soldier who I seem to have harmed, unintentionally of course.” You paused, turning at the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in a few years.
“No fucking way. Loki?!” you exclaimed as you ran to the man and jumped into his arms. Loki lifted you off the ground, returning your hug with enthusiasm and his trademark chuckle.
“Hello, my cranky friend. It has been a long time!” He placed you on the ground, pulling back to take a look at you. He returned your smile, stopping to move a piece of hair out of your eyes that had fallen in all of the excitement. His cheeks flushed with happiness, a smile lighting up his entire face.
“What are you doing here? Is Thor here too?” you asked, your excitement bubbling over into babbling between you and your old friend. As you talked animatedly, the other brother walked in, grabbing you from behind, giving you a big bear hug.
“It’s my favorite superhuman! How are you, Cranky Spanky?” Thor said, spinning you around and around, your laughter ringing through the room. The blond god finally set you down, twirling you around to look at him.
“Thoralicious!” you yelled. Your excitement at seeing your old friends was palpable, but so was the anger rolling off your supersoldier. Thor didn’t notice, his jovial self never thinking someone would ever dislike him. Loki, on the other hand, noticed the soldier’s change in demeanor immediately, choosing to aggravate the man even more with his mischief.
“Ahh yes, Cranky Spanky. So, what has happened since we last met? I have heard quite a few tales of a very stubborn, beautiful, and spectacularly angry woman floating through the halls of Asgard.”
You smiled fondly, remembering your time with your two friends. “We did share some good fights, some good food, and even better Asgardian Ale, didn’t we?” you asked, laughing when Loki and Thor mentioned a memory here or there during the conversation.
“Who the fuck are these assholes?” you heard Bucky whisper to Steve, also loud enough for your super hearing, but not loud enough for the others in the room to hear. You plastered a smile on your face, turning around to introduce your friends to your team.
“How rude of me, I’m such an asshole for not making introductions,” you said, stopping to glare at Steve and Bucky, who didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. Bucky was wildly protective over Steve, just as Doc was over you, which you planned to use to your advantage. You shot a smirk in her direction, her only warning that you were about to cause a fight.
“Let’s start with Doc.” You guided the men towards your friend, completely ignoring Bucky and Steve, stopping in front of the other woman. “Loki, Thor, this is Doc. She is the team’s physician, and my very best friend here.”
“Cranky, why have you never mentioned how stunning your friends are?” Thor said, grabbing Doc’s hand and bringing it to his lips. Doc giggled, her cheeks flushing a little at the smile the golden haired man threw her way.
“Hi, hello, hi. I’m Doc.” she replied, still giggling, moving her attention to Loki, who also gave a flattering remark, a kiss on the hand, adding in a wink. Doc looked back at you, silently asking how far you wanted to take this. You quirked your right eyebrow and smirked at your friend, silently allowing her to go as far as she wanted.
“It’s very nice to meet you both. Cranky Spanky doesn’t talk about her time before here much. How did you all meet?” Thor and Loki both laughed, very charmed by Doc, but also playing up the flirtation knowing how upset the other super soldiers were getting.
Bucky glared at Loki who was still holding Doc’s hand, smiling, Loki continuing to compliment the woman, low enough to only be heard by Doc and the other super soldiers in the room. Loki knew that neither you nor Doc were single, but being the god of mischief, he needed to stir the pot just a little.
“We met her just as she was escaping from the Hydra base that had made her the strong beauty she is today,” Thor explained, throwing a wink your way. Thor and Loki explained how you tried to fight them off while you were so close to death, and the very colorful vocabulary you taught them, causing Cranky to be born in that moment.
“Now, as for the other part of the name-” Loki looked over at you to gauge your reaction and how far he was allowed to take it when the door slammed open interrupting the conversation. All heads turned towards the newcomer as all talk stilled while Fury walked towards the front of the room to get this meeting started.
Loki and Thor moved to stand towards the back of the room, giving Fury the floor. You glanced over at Steve only to find him glaring at Loki while whispering with Bucky, His eyes finally drifted to you, and you gave him a small smile hoping to ease some tension. He dropped his gaze immediately, leaning over again to say something to Bucky who turned his attention over to you, making it very obvious you were the topic of discussion.
Pain and confusion flashed over your face as you slumped down in your chair, feeling the tears start to fall. You weren’t sure what the hell was actually happening, or which was worse: Steve choosing to confide in Bucky or continue telling you everything was fine when it obviously was not. You tried to wipe away the tears before anyone noticed, never really one to show emotions.
Doc turned when she heard you sniffle, her heart breaking a little. She thought that everything was finally right in the world when Steve brought you back to the compound, his attraction obvious to everyone but you. You had managed to break past Steve’s walls and insecurities and he did the same for you, and you two were so in love, had healed each other so much. This tension didn’t make any sense.
Doc mulled over everything as she grabbed another ice pack and broke it open to initiate the cold reaction, turning to the ass of a super soldier and not so gently replacing the one he was no longer using.
“Ow, Jesus Doc, what the hell are you doing?” Steve asked, the pain in his nose returning, Even with the serum speeding up his healing, it didn’t work miracles, his nose still broken and tender. Doc turned to Bucky and punched her super soldier in the arm before walking off to check on you as an unexpected “HEY!” followed behind her.
She sat down in the chair next to you, looping her arm through yours as you dropped your head on her shoulder. She didn’t say anything, knowing this isn’t something you would want to discuss here, instead offering all of the silent comfort you had grown to appreciate.
The meeting finished without further incident, everyone clear on their roles and assignments. The mission would be in a few weeks, giving you and the rest of the team plenty of time to research and get to know the two gods they were helping.
You stood and made your way out of the meeting room, Doc having already left due to an emergency in her med bay. You were trying to sneak out, not willing to see or speak to Steve at that moment. He made you cry, something he had always promised never to do, but just like most people you’d met, he lied.
You had made it out of the room and almost to the elevator when you heard Steve call your name. You didn’t stop, didn’t look back, didn’t even acknowledge you had heard him, even though he knew you had.
You walked faster, slipping into one of the elevators just as the door was closing. You turned around and looked back, your eyes meeting Steve’s, tears running down your cheeks. You wiped your tears away, looking away as the door closed.
Steve ran his hand through his hair then down his face, frustrated and angry at himself. He had made you cry, breaking the one promise you had ever asked of him. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he did know one thing: if he didn’t fix this, he was going to lose you, something he refused to think about because you were the love of his life.
He turned to take the stairs, heading home to think about his issues and what he needed to do. He knew you needed time, and he was going to give it to you. He was going to show you how much you really meant to him and how sorry he was for being Asshat once again.
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Later that day, you’d decided you needed to get out of your room for a little while, the walls starting to suffocate you. You were just gathering up your keys and wallet when you heard a knock at your door. You rolled your eyes, expecting Steve or Bucky to be on the other side, however you were pleasantly surprised to see your two old friends.
“Cranky! Loki and I were wondering if you would do us the honor of showing us around the tower,” Thor said, wrapping you in a large bear hug. You felt the tension leave your body, finding comfort in your old, familiar friends.
“It would be my pleasure,” you replied, turning to shut your door, linking one arm through Loki’s and the other through Thor’s. You laughed as Loki and Thor bickered, happy to have something distracting you from your own thoughts.
As the three of you headed towards the elevator, the doors opened, Clint and Sam getting off on your floor.
“Hey, just the person we were coming to see!” Clint said, shaking hands with Loki and Thor as Sam gave you a hug.
“What’s going on you two? I was just about to show Loki and Thor around the tower,” you replied as you also gave Clint a hug while Sam greeted Loki and Thor. You pressed the down button as they revealed their surprise.
“Spurs are coming, playing the Knicks at Madison Square. You and Doc in?” Sam asked, pulling the tickets out. “Courtside, behind the Spurs bench…” Sam continued, knowing this battle was already won. “We can get two extra tickets for Loki and Thor too.”
“A rousing game of the balls of baskets sounds like a great experience,” Thor said, clapping Sam on the back so hard he fell forward into Clint. “Loki and I would be honored to participate with our new friends!” Thor and Loki changed their outfits with their magic, Loki a little less enthusiastic about this than Thor, but still willing to go.
“Alright, alright. Let me grab Doc. You know she would kill me if I didn’t take her. Plus, Clint and Sam can’t talk shit the way she does!” you exclaimed as you ran away from Clint and Sam before they could reach you. It took them a minute to process what you just said, and you heard them both yell after you as your laughter rang through the air.
You took the stairs down to the medical wing, excited to get out of the tower and away from the drama. You were also excited to watch your favorite team against Doc’s favorite, knowing your best friend also needed a night away as much as you did.
“Doc!” you yelled as you walked into the room, the automatic doors swooshing closed behind you. You looked around, not seeing her anywhere. You turned at the sound of footsteps, on alert as no one but Doc should be in here.
“She isn’t here,” Bucky responded, his hands held up in front of him as you turned to face him. You took one look and turned to walk away, not wanting anything to do with Bucky, or Steve for that matter. Bucky called after you, asking you to wait.
You turned,your arms crossed in front of your body, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You knew Bucky would never hurt you, but it was a habit you still hadn’t been able to break.
“What, Bucky?” you asked.
“I don’t know what’s going on between you and Steve-” Bucky started. You put your hand up, stopping the conversation.
“You’re right. You want to know the sad part though, Bucky?” you replied, your hands clenched into fists at your side, your face heating as your temper rose. “The sad part is you, as his best friend, know more about the issues Steve and I have in OUR relationship, than I do, as his fucking girlfriend.”
“Hey, I-” Bucky started again. You turned, heading towards the door before he saw the tears start falling. You walked out without another word, leaving Bucky with his mouth hanging open. You’d never fought with him before, in all of the years you had known each other, and he wasn’t sure what to do. All he knew was this needed to be fixed.
You took a deep breath, texting everyone, including Doc, to meet you at the front door of the tower as you made your way there from the med bay, taking time to calm down and get your tears under control before anyone saw. The last thing you wanted to do was answer any questions about your relationship.
You found Sam, Clint, Thor, and Loki already down by the door when you arrived, your phone in hand texting with Doc. You had asked her to meet you at the front also, however you hadn’t told her why, wanting to see the surprise on her face when you did.
As you were all talking, you happened to see Doc coming around the corner. Your eyes met and you headed towards her. Immediately she started apologizing for Bucky’s need to insert himself into your relationship. She also advised Bucky would now be on the couch until he learned to mind his own business.
You smiled, always grateful for Doc’s friendship and protection, even if it meant Bucky was in trouble. You knew it was petty, but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t have many people on your side, and Doc had been protective over you since you arrived.
“Come on, let’s go,” you said, grabbing Doc, finally letting her in on the plans for the night. Doc squealed excitedly, immediately talking shit about the Knicks beating the Spurs. You laughed, everyone’s conversations overlapping once you and Doc had met up with the rest of the group, the sound fading as you all walked out.
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Steve had spent the last few hours in the gym trying to work through this anger and jealousy coursing through him, unsure of how to make things right with you while feeling like this. He knows you wouldn’t cheat, knows you would never do anything to hurt him, but he still can’t help feeling insecure, all of his old worries and fears creeping back in.
Deciding he’d damaged enough punching bags, seven total counting the one he’d just launched across the room, Steve headed towards the community kitchen just as your group was getting back from the game. He stopped in the room as Thor and Loki rounded the corner with Sam and Clint, you and Doc having gone to change.
“Captain! Nice to see you again!” Thor bellowed, clapping the soldier on the back, his silver and black Spurs foam finger smacking Steve in the face. “This game, the balls of baskets, is so entertaining! Oh, Sam! May I please see the keeper of the images?” Thor bellowed, asking for Sam’s phone.
“Look at this, Captain. I was introduced to, what was it again?” Thor said as Sam walked over to show Steve the pictures from the game. “Ah, yes! That was it! I was able to learn about the Kiss Cam tonight!” Thor passed Sam’s phone over to Steve, a picture of the blond god kissing you on the cheek, the next picture of Loki kissing Doc on the cheek.
Sam, who saw Steve’s jaw tighten and fists clenched at his sides, grabbed his phone from the blond man, steering him away from the supersoldier who looked as if he wanted to snap the god in two. You had just come down the stairs, Doc behind you, to grab some food when Steve stalked over to you,
“Exactly what the fuck happened tonight?!” Steve yelled, slamming the fridge door shut in front of you, causing you to jump back in surprise.
“Well, hello to you too,” you said, ducking under his arm to put some space between the two of you. Steve’s anger was palpable, and although you knew he would never do anything to hurt you, you still didn’t like what was happening.
“I’ll ask again, what the fuck happened at the game tonight?” Steve yelled, his voice getting louder, his face turning red as his anger grew. He let you step away from him, keeping his fists clenched at his sides.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” you yelled back, your own anger starting to spike. You had no idea what was happening, where any of this was coming from. Sam and Clint peeked around the corner, to try and diffuse the situation but you nodded your head no, letting them know not to get involved.
“You let other guys kiss you now?” Steve continued, venom dripping from every word. “We have a fight, and now other guys are allowed to kiss you?” he continued, his face red, veins on the side of his neck visible. “Are you really that desperate for attention, pulling Doc into your stupid problems?”
You felt the blood rushing to your ears, not sure if you were hearing this correctly.“What did you just say to me, and what exactly are you trying to accuse me of?” you screamed back, sick of having to deal with his fucking attitude and issues.
“If I may-” Loki interrupted, trying to calm the situation.
“NO!” you and Steve both yelled at the other god, who held his hands up in defeat and moved to stand behind Doc. Bucky walked in just then, moving to stand beside Doc, with Sam and Clint behind him, the latter two having gone to get Bucky in hopes of calming Steve.
“You’re going to stand there and lie to me? I saw the fucking pictures!” Steve pointed over to Sam, who stepped back, not quite understanding what was going on. “I saw that blond asshole kissing you while the other asshole kissed Doc!”
Bucky stepped over to Steve, his face a mix of rage and confusion as he looked at Doc who looked just as confused as you. Doc moved over to stand beside you, hoping to calm you down. Doc looked over at Steve and Bucky, her anger and embarrassment of this scene growing with each second.
“Go on! Show us the pictures! It’s not like it’s exactly a secret considering it was literally broadcast all over! Go ahead and show everybody what a whore you are!” The minute he'd said it, he knew he’d crossed a line which he may not be able to come back from, but at this moment, he didn’t really care.
Your face fell, tears starting to fall. Never once had Steve spoken like this to you knowing you would never cheat on him. You grabbed your phone and pulled up the pictures from the game, the same ones Sam had taken. “Here, why don’t you take a look through these since you seem to know everything that happened. Go on.” You pushed your phone into his face, making him take a step back, his head turning from you as he retreated to stand by Bucky. “Don’t stop now, look at the fucking pictures!” you responded, your voice growing louder. “No? You called me a whore, but now you don’t want to see the pictures?’
You walked over to Steve and Bucky, your phone in front of you, the pictures on the screen. “See, here’s the Kiss Cam, there’s me and Thor, a kiss on the fucking cheek; Loki and Doc, another kiss on the fucking cheek-is she a whore too? Or is that just reserved for me? Oh! Look at that, Sam and Clint, on the fucking Kiss Cam, a kiss on the fucking cheek.”
You threw your phone at Steve, hitting him in the face as you continued. “It was Thor and Loki’s first time at a game, they were having a good time! I didn’t know that a friendly kiss on the cheek in the middle of a packed arena made me a whore!”
Steve looked at the pictures, realizing just how badly he’d fucked up. The other pictures were of a group of friends enjoying themselves at a game where there was obviously nothing romantic going on.
Bucky stepped forward, reaching for Doc who moved back, shaking her head. “Don’t fucking touch me,” Doc spat, her anger at the entire situation growing. “You really think we’d do something like this? Do you really not trust me, trust her at all?”
“I’m so sorry-” Steve started, taking a step towards you.
“Don’t you dare touch me, you fucking prick,” you whispered as you moved towards the elevator. “You called me a whore, a fucking whore, and you can go fuck yourself.”
You turned, walking away, Doc right behind you as the others cleared a path. “Don’t bother coming home tonight,” Doc threw over her shoulder to Bucky. “You can go sleep at Steve’s place since you seem to trust him and think so little of me.”
“FUCK!” Steve yelled, launching your phone against the nearest wall. He turned around, all eyes on him, Bucky moving out from behind him. He looked at Steve, an unreadable expression on his face. Steve dropped his hands onto the counter, leaning against it to hold himself up.
“You better fucking fix this, Steve,” Bucky said as he turned to walk out of the room, Sam and Clint leaving close behind. Steve couldn’t look up, couldn’t meet their eyes, shame flooding him all over. He turned to walk out, Loki standing in his way.
“I know she loves you, and I do not understand why,” Loki said, his voice low and lethal. “I also know that you have just shattered any trust she had for you. She can absolutely handle herself and however once she has finished, it will be our turn, if you do not correct this issue and your behavior.”
Steve dropped his head again, knowing full well he deserved everything he had coming to him, and more. Thor walked past, clasping a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing tightly, and whispered about never ending pain before turning around to follow his brother to the elevator, leaving Steve to his demons.
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The dull throb in your head finally made you roll over and pry your eyes open. You weren’t sure when you actually fell asleep, and without your phone, you weren’t really sure of the time. You thought you’d heard footsteps outside of your door a little while ago, and possibly a knock, however you couldn’t be bothered to drag yourself out of bed.
As you laid there, the tears once again started to fall, the night rushing back, sobs and hiccups the only sound in your room. When your sobs finally started to slow and your tears had stopped, you dragged yourself out of bed and into a hot shower.
Once you had dressed, donning your favorite leggings and oversized hoodie, you pulled your hair back, took a deep breath, and opened the door, not sure what to expect after everything that had happened. As you took a step out and turned to close the door, you kicked a box that you hadn’t seen in front of you.
You bent down, picking up the box that held the latest model of your missing phone, in your favorite color with a note on top. You opened it up, only two words written on the page in Steve’s familiar script: I’m Sorry.
You let out a deep breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding, your hands shaking. You weren’t really sure what he was sorry for, last night, the phone, all of it, but you weren’t ready to accept any apology. You would, however, take the phone as you actually did need it.
The next few days consisted of you dodging Steve whenever you saw him, hiding behind plants and people to keep him from spotting you. You also had help from your friends, Loki throwing illusions up when Steve would come too close, Doc hiding you in the med bay, Clint and Sam hiding you under furniture when Steve came around.
You’d managed to duck him for the most part, and when that was unavoidable, you refused to look at or talk to Steve. After meetings or training, you made sure to be the first out the door, counting on the others around to be your blockers.
You could see the sorrow in his eyes, and the worry etched into his face, but you couldn’t talk to him, not yet. You knew the moment you were alone with him, the minute you looked into his eyes, you wouldn’t be able to hang onto your anger, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if there was a future for the two of you anymore.
The avoidance came to an end when Fury requested a meeting with you regarding the upcoming mission, removing you from said mission. When you asked why you and not Steve, Fury said he’d based his decision on seniority. You left his office, heading directly to Steve’s room, fuming. You didn’t bother knocking, using your key to enter.
“Where the fuck are you, Asshat?” you yelled, slamming the door behind you. You made your way through the apartment, your anger building as you went, opening all the doors. You opened the bathroom door and walked in on Steve just getting out of the shower, completely nude.
“Uh, hey, hi! I’m glad-” he started before you slapped him across the cheek. “Ow, what the fuck?” he asked, his hand rubbing his cheek, an incredulous look on his face. You’d almost find this hilarious, Captain Asshat’s dick swinging freely with his hand resting on his cheek, if you weren’t so incensed at the moment.
“So, you insult me, you crush my phone, (thank you for the replacement, I love the color), then when I don’t accept your half assed apologies on sticky notes, you have Fury remove me from the mission?” you screamed, your blood pressure rising each second you looked at him. “Do you know how humiliating this is? You didn’t get your way, and now I have pay with my career, you fucking…fucking Asshat!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve yelled back, utterly confused as to why the hell you were angry. “I never talked to Fury, and I sure as fuck didn’t ask him to remove you from this mission! I would never do that!” Steve tried pushing past you to get to his towel, however you refused to let him walk away.
“Oh, you expect me to believe I was removed and you had nothing to do with it?” you continued, grabbing his towel and throwing it in the hall and away from Steve. It wasn’t lost on you how fucking delicious Steve looked, naked and flushed. Try as you might, you couldn’t ignore the tingle running down your body, your core growing wet.
“I didn’t have anything to do with this! I would never do anything like this. You should know me better than that,” he said, trying to ignore the scent of your arousal, and trying to hide his own.
You stared at Steve, tears forming as you took a shaky breath.”I thought I did, but you proved me wrong,” you whispered, wiping the tears away. “This was a mistake, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to put in for a transfer. This is the only thing I had, besides you, and now I have nothing.”
You turned to leave. Steve grabbing your arm, turning you to face him. He lifted your chin with his hand, forcing you to look at him as he wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb. He saw the pain he had caused, and his already broken heart shattered further at the sight.
Before he knew what was happening, you leaned in, kissing him, emotions and hormones bypassing all reason. You kissed him deeply, your anger fueling your passion. Steve was home, he was familiar, and at this moment, familiar is what you wanted and needed.
Steve returned your kiss, his need just as deep as yours, his tongue on your lower lip, begging for entrance. You allowed him in, already drunk off his flavor. You hated how much you missed him, how your body missed him, feeling yourself growing even more wet with your need. You pulled back, panting, needing to catch your breath, and maybe even try to have a rational thought.
“Fuck it,” you said as you removed your clothes, letting them fall at your feet. You looked at Steve, panting and naked in front of you, his eyes clouded over with his own need.
“Are you sure?” Steve asked, waiting for your permission before he did anything, not wanting to hurt you even more than he already had, something he would never forgive himself for.
You grabbed his cock, stroking the precum already dripping over the tip, a moan rumbling from deep in Steve’s chest, his hand tightening in your hair.
“I’m sure, Steve. I need you now,” you responded, pulling him closer, still stroking his rock hard dick. He put his hands under your ass, lifting you up, placing your back against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist.
He entered you in one deep thrust, his balls resting flush against your ass before he pulled out and started fucking you into you deeply. There was nothing sweet and loving right now, just a hard and passionate fuck.
Steve dropped his hand between the two of you, his fingers finding your bundle of nerves, rubbing hard as he grunted in your ear. You moaned as you came, your orgasm washing over you with no warning.
Steve felt you contract and spasm around his cock, his hips starting to stutter as he continued his assault on your clit, rocketing you to a second orgasm before the first had finished. You screamed, his name crossing your lips, over and over. He finally stilled, spilling his cum deep inside you as you came down from your highs together.
Steve leaned in, kissing your face on every surface of skin he could find, both of you needing to just feel the other. He rested his forehead against yours, as he told you how much he loved you, how sorry he was for what happened, how much he needed you.
You heard the honesty in his voice before you felt his tears falling, his breaths short as he sobbed. Your heart started healing in that moment, the open and raw honesty he had shared something he rarely did.
You cooed into his hair, his head resting in the crook of your neck as he slowly started to calm. He lifted his head and looked at you, your hands moving to his cheeks to wipe away his tears.
He whispered again how much he loved you and how sorry he was to have hurt you. “I know,” you replied, kissing him again. He slowly pulled out of you, carefully placing you on your feet, never once breaking the kiss.
You pulled away, feeling your mixed cum dripping down your legs as Steve left to grab you a towel, and also grabbed his clothes on his way back.
“I know you’re sorry,” you began, as you slowly got dressed, taking the extra moment of silence to try and make sense of your own thoughts. “I forgive you, Steve, but I’m scared of this happening again. You didn’t trust me enough to know I would never cheat on you. I love you so fucking much, and I would never throw away the life we’d built.”
Steve sighed deeply, swiping his hand across his face. “I know, and it absolutely wasn’t you I didn’t trust, it was your feelings for me.” Steve sighed deeply before continuing. “When I asked you to move in with me, you froze, just froze then walked away. And then Loki and Thor showed up, and all of a sudden I was back to being Little Sick Stevie. All of those insecurities came rushing back, and I didn’t know what to do or how to handle it.”
You pulled his chin up, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Don’t you get it yet, Asshat? I would love Little Stevie just the same as I love this version of you. Because it’s you. You are the one I love, you are the one I choose, and you are the one who saved me.”
“You still choose me?” he questioned, so quietly, his voice missing all confidence that your heart broke for this man.
“I will always choose you.” Steve kissed you, soft and deep, every unspoken word tied into that moment. When he pulled away, you took a deep breath, then continued.
“I still need time. You go on this mission, and when you come back to me, let’s talk again, see where we go from here.”
Steve nodded, the doubt creeping back into his eyes as he turned to walk you to the door. “I’m not saying it’s over. I’m saying let’s take this time apart to heal ourselves. We have to do that before we can heal this relationship.”
“I understand,” Steve replied softly, bringing your hand to his lips, placing gentle kisses on your knuckles. “I will come find you as soon as we return, I promise.”
“I’ll let you get back to packing, I know your start time got pushed to today. Just…come back to me, Asshat. Promise me you’ll come back.” You stroked his cheek softly, trying to calm your own fears that appeared as you realized he was going without you, that you could not protect him.
“I will ALWAYS come back to you, always.” he replied as he wiped the tears you hadn’t even realized had started falling. He kissed you again, not wanting to let you go, but he has to.
“I love you.” he whispered. You whispered back “I love you,” before you turned and left his apartment, shutting the door softly behind you, sobs wracking your body as you made your way back to your own place, needing to be alone.
————————————————————
Steve had been gone for a few weeks, giving you time to realize just how much you missed him. You spent a lot of time with Doc, helping in the med bay, going out to dinner, hanging out with Wizard. You knew most missions were no communication, but it didn’t ease your fears. Doc and Bucky had made up before he had left, however all of his stuff was still in Wizard’s room, so you and Doc moved him back home.
You also had a lot of time to think about Steve, finally able to come to terms with the fact that you could not be without Asshat, YOUR Asshat. You knew that this was it for you, the minute he stepped off the Quinjet, you were going to tell him you wanted to move in with him. You wanted to keep your own space, hoping it would help to ease your fears, and you hoped Steve would be okay with the stipulation.
It was late, almost two in the morning, when you heard the knock at your door, loud and incessant. You looked at the clock wondering who the hell was waking you up this late. You stood up, throwing on your robe as you made your way to the door.
“I’m coming, Jesus fuck. Someone better be dead or dying,” you said as you opened the door, coming face to face with a panicked Sam. “What the hell is going on?” you asked, your heart feeling like it was going to explode, hoping that your worst fear had not just happened.
“Hey, it’s Steve. He’s hurt; it’s bad, really bad.” Sam responded. You felt your stomach drop, all sound ceasing as you felt your world stop. “We just got him into the Med Bay and Doc is taking care of him.”
“I’m going to change, and then I will meet you there, Sam.” You turned and headed towards your room, throwing on a pair of leggings and one of Steve’s hoodies. You took a deep breath, pushing your fear and worries aside, knowing that at this moment, Steve needed you more.
You walked towards the Med Bay, stopping right before the entrance to take a deep breath and steady your nerves. You had never seen Steve hurt before, but you knew you needed to be strong for him. You took one last breath then made your way through the automatic doors.
There he was, lying in the hospital bed, his face pale. You’d never seen him so still, and you didn’t realize that you’d started walking over to him until you reached his bedside. You heard Doc talking, not really sure if it was to you or around you, but the only thing you could see was Steve, grabbing his hand between yours as you begged him to be okay. You barely registered the tears falling down your face as Doc tried to move you away from his bedside so she could take care of Steve.
“Come on, you need to let Doc work,” Bucky said, removing your hands from Steve’s so he could shift you away from his bed. You fought against him, your panic rising to the surface. Bucky still held you tightly, whispering to you to keep you calm. He reassured you Steve was in the best hands, Doc would take care of him.
You finally allowed Bucky to pull you away, knowing your best friend would do everything she could to save Steve. You trusted her with your life, and now, you trusted her with the most important thing to you.
As you and Bucky sat in the common room, you tried to think of anything else, but you mind kept going back to Steve. Bucky tried to distract you the best he could, knowing how this was tearing you apart because of how it was killing him. He had faith Doc could save Steve, but he had never seen him hurt this badly before.
“How did this happen?” you asked, your voice small and frightened, afraid of the answer. You blamed yourself, you should have talked to him and made things right before he had left, made sure he knew how much you loved him and how you were ready to take the next step. If Steve died, you would never forgive yourself.
“We got separated during the raid on the Hydra base. They isolated Steve from the rest of us,” Bucky said. “We couldn’t find him, they had dragged him down a secret pathway we hadn’t seen during reconnaissance. We couldn’t find him, and by the time we got past everyone, he was unconscious. We looked, I looked, and couldn’t find him,” Bucky sobbed as he recounted the mission.
You hugged Bucky, pulling him close, whispering this wasn’t his fault, he had done everything he could, that this was no one’s fault but your own. He was distracted, he had to have been for Hydra to get the drop on him. And that distraction was you. You and Bucky cried, seeking comfort in the other, standing only when Doc entered the room.
“How is he?” you asked, immediately. She said that he was finally stable, but he had lost a lot of blood. Hydra had given him a drug that slowed his healing time, returning his body functions to preserum status. She had sent samples to Bruce and Tony, to see if they could identify what this drug was, and also states she didn’t know if it would be permanent.
“You can see him, but only one can stay with him for any extended amount of time,” Doc cautioned, solely for your benefit as she knew you wouldn’t leave his side. You and Bucky went to see Steve immediately, both needing to see with your own eyes that he was indeed still breathing.
The three of you turned and headed towards the med bay doors, Bucky and Doc in front of you. They opened the doors and walked in, Doc rubbing his back comfortingly and whispering softly to her soldier. She and Bucky had talked a little before he’d left, but were going to figure everything out when he returned, and you felt a small stab of jealousy watching them.
You stopped at the door, needing a minute to breathe before you saw Steve, your nerves on fire. You got lost in your fears: what if Steve died, or didn’t know who you were, what if he realized he’d made a mistake being with you, or that he never really loved you. You started to hyperventilate, every fear and insecurity you had steamrolling you all at once as you slid down the wall, reaching the floor, your head resting in your hands.
You felt Bucky beside you, not saying a word as he sat down, placing his arm around your shoulder. You started crying, your body overwhelmed with every emotion hitting you all at once. You allowed Bucky to pull you into his embrace, your tears running from your face onto his shirt. No words said nor shared, both of you knowing this was something that could never be described in any language.
As your sobs slowed and tears dried, you gave Bucky a hug, softly reassuring him that you were okay, took a deep and shaky breath as you stood up. With a soft smile at your friend, you made your way through the door and to Steve’s side. You had never seen him look so frail, always assuming he would never have to face anything life threatening due to the serum.
You sat at the chair placed next to his bed, so wrapped up in your thoughts you didn’t see nor hear Doc and Bucky leave. Grabbing his hand, you noticed all of the IV lines running medication and fluid through his veins, helping to keep him stable.
You dropped your head onto his hand, silently making promises with him if he would just wake up. You wouldn’t nag him, you wouldn’t call him Asshat again, (although him putting you through this made him the biggest Asshat to date), you would put your clothes away instead of leaving them in the dryer, you would not yell and threaten him when he would wake you up in the morning, all of this if he would just come back to you.
You don’t know when you fell asleep, only waking up when Doc came in to check on Steve and adjust his orders and dosages of medications and fluids. Bucky came in with a cup of coffee, ordering you to go shower while he sat with Steve until you returned.
You didn’t want to leave at all, but you also couldn’t stand how you smelled, ripe being nice at this point. The shower almost made you feel human again as you dressed and headed back to the lab. Bucky and Doc knew it would be pointless to argue with you, so they helped in little ways.
This was the routine for the next few days, along with multiple blood draws to determine exactly what Hydra had done and to track Steve’s body functions as time progressed. On day five of this nightmare, Doc ran into the med bay with a smile on her face while yelling your name excitedly. You were changing the water in the vase next to Steve’s bed, filled with flowers the team had sent yesterday.
“Bruce and Tony need you in the lab! They have good news!” Doc yelled as she ran over to you, hugging you and almost causing you to drop the flowers. You yelped in surprise, Doc almost knocking you over.
“Slow down, Doc. what are you talking about?” you asked, as you gently pushed her back and set the flowers down. You turned to Steve, noticing he wasn’t as pale today as you pushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead.
“Bruce and Tony have been studying Steve’s blood over the last few days, and this morning they noticed a change with his most recent sample. The toxin or whatever they used-” You turned and ran out of the med bay, making your way to the lab before Doc could finish, your friend gumbling a you’re welcome as she went back to focusing on Steve.
“Tony! Banner! Doc said you have some good news!” you yelled as you ran into the lab at full speed. You stopped as you waited for them to answer, your face hopeful and yet scared all at once. You listened as the men explained their findings. You asked for them to break it down to human terms in which you were told the drug was only temporary, and all findings as of this morning showed Steve’s blood to no longer carry any of the toxin with all serum characteristics once again in place.
You ran back to the Med Bay, your heart hopeful for the first time in days. As you reached the doors, you stopped again to catch your breath. Once steadied, you walked into the room, your heart clenching in disappointment when you didn’t find Steve conscious. You dropped in the chair next to the bed, grabbing Steve’s hand again, unable to keep your tears away.
“What’s the matter, Brat?” you heard Steve ask, squeezing your hand. Your head shot up, locking eyes with the most beautiful set of blues you’d ever seen and loved.
“Steve? Are you really back?” you asked, fearful of this being a dream or hallucination. Your heart racing, you kissed your Asshat, long and deep, feeling his chuckle rumble
deep in his chest.
“Easy, Brat, I’m injured,” he teased, his smile lighting his face, pure adoration in his eyes. “If I’d have known all I had to do was get injured to get you to stop calling me Asshat, I would have done this months ago.”
“You heard that?” you replied, a flush creeping up your neck to the tips of your ears. “I mean, I will now only reserve that name for special occasions.” You laughed, a watery sob escaping.
“Shh, it’s alright. I’m not going anywhere. You cannot get rid of me that easily. When I said I love you, that I was in this for the long haul, I meant every word.” Steve ran his thumb soothingly along your cheekbone, wiping away your tears.
Steve moved over, motioning you to join him in the bed. You made sure you wouldn’t get in the way of any IVs, however all had been disconnected due to his healing power returning. You laid your head on his bicep, your face close to his as he dropped soft kisses all over.
Steve gently placed his hand under your chin, raising your face to his. He kissed you softly and slowly, almost as if he was afraid of breaking you. You deepened the kiss, allowing him access to your mouth, his tongue playing against yours. You felt the kiss turn passionate, a need to touch and be touched coming over you both.
You pulled away, needing to make sure Steve was really okay, that this wouldn’t harm him in any way at all. He nodded, knowing what you were afraid of, showing you he was healed and ready for this.
You slowly smiled, moving Steve to his back as you removed his hospital gown, straddling him. You slowly kissed down his neck, over his chest, stopping to play with his nipples along the way. You felt his cock grow hard beneath you, causing a new wave of wetness to soak your panties as you continued to make your way down.
You placed gentle kisses all over his abdomen, licking then biting as you continued moving further down. You made your way down one thigh, biting and kissing down then up the inner thigh, skipping over his rock hard length to tease the other side, biting and kissing down then back up the inner thigh again.
“Please,” you heard Steve say, no louder than a strangled whisper. You stopped your movement, looking up at your soldier.
“Please, what? Did you want something?” you asked, as you rested your hands on his thighs, your head quirked to the side. You loved making him work for his pleasure, loved how strong and in control he allowed you to be. You lightly ran your fingers over his hard length, just a ghost of touch. You watched him shiver, his cock twitching.
“Please suck my dick, need you so much,” he whimpered, his hands moving to wind themselves into your hair. You felt his fingers tighten, allowing him to guide your head down to his cock. You looked him in the eye as you licked a long stripe up the underside of his dick before taking just the tip into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the spongy head, tasting the beads of precum.
You pulled back, licking your lips before you allowed Steve to push you down again, this time allowing his cock to deeper, working to get past your gag reflex. You relaxed your throat, hollowing out your cheeks and breathing through your nose, letting Steve slide deeper down. You allowed Steve to control the pace, his hands holding your head still as you let him fuck your face. You felt your core grow even more wet, loving how Steve needed you. You looked up at him, tears and drool streaming down your face as he continued his assault on your throat.
“Gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice strained and hoarse with need. You continued looking up at him, letting him know you were ready. With one last grunt, you felt his cum hit your mouth as you swallowed every last drop he pumped down your throat. Steve held your head still as he twitched a few times before he allowed you to pull your head back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
“I have missed your mouth,” he said as he pulled you up, kissing you, tasting himself. You melted into his kiss, his hand moving between you, rubbing your cunt over your clothes. You softly whimpered into his mouth, your wetness starting to leak through and onto his fingers. “You’re so wet, did you miss me?”
You nodded as you started to move your clothed center over his hand, needing all of the friction you could get. You whined as Steve pulled his hand away, flipping you onto your back. He removed your shirt and pants, attacking your breasts immediately. You moaned and whined, his attention on your nipples sending shockwaves straight to your cunt.
You lifted your hips, allowing Steve to remove your leggings and panties, giving him complete access to you. He wasted no time, latching onto your bundle of nerves as he started to finger fuck you. You writhed and moaned, approaching your orgasm faster than ever before.
Steve didn’t slow down at all, working you through your first orgasm, directly into the second. After you came for the third time, you pushed Steve’s mouth away from your over sensitive clit, drifting back to reality. You pulled Steve up, kissing him deeply as you felt him line his cock up with your entrance, slowly pushing inch by agonizing inch in, until he was fully seated in you.
“Please move, Steve,” you begged, trying to move your hips to gain any movement or friction. You felt Steve pull out slowly, slamming back into you, repeating this over and over again as he slowly and deeply fucked you.
“Hey just coming to see-WHOA!” you heard Tony yell as he got a front row seat to Steve’s bare ass. “Can you please try and keep this to your floor?” he yelled, covering his eyes with his hands, turning to walk out, running into the wall just to the side of the door.
“Get the fuck out, Stark, unless you want to watch the finale!” you yelled, feeling your walls flutter as Steve continued to fuck you deep and slow. Your cries rose in volume the closer you got to your orgasm, your pussy starting to tighten over Steve’s cock mercilessly. You fell over the edge, covering Steve in your cum as you felt him release into you. You both held tightly to each other, coming down from your highs together.
“I will move in with you, but I really need to keep my place, just for when I need some space. Can you accept that?” you asked quietly, waiting for Steve to answer, your anxiety growing as Steve didn’t say anything. Your heart slowly started to break so you started to move, trying to get Steve off of you.
He stopped you, a hand softly landing on your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “I can do that, but are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to feel you have to. I will love you and be with you any way that I can, even if you aren’t ready for the next step.” Steve kissed you so tenderly, so softly. You threw your hands around his neck, tears streaming down your face. You returned his kiss, assuring him this was what you wanted.
“Come on, let’s go christen OUR house, pretty girl,” Steve said, wrapping his hospital gown around his waist to hide his ass and dick. You wrapped your legs around him, letting him carry you towards the door.
“Hey! I see someone is feeling better,” you heard Doc say, as Steve carried you out. “You’re also paying to have this room cleaned from top to bottom!” Doc yelled, laughter following you both out as you headed back to your place, finally back where you were meant to be.
Part One: Captain Asshat Lives Here
#chris evans#Bucky#chris evans characters#steve Rogers#brat#asshat#doc#captain america#Steve Rogers x Reader#Bucky and doc#Wizard the goat#asshat doc and Wizard#steve x reader#steve au#steve rogers#steve rogers au#steve rogers blurb#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers series#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x reader smut#steve smut#steve x you#steve rogers x you
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Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹
My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵
I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵💫 (Part 1 here)
I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.
He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.
He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.
He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.
"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."
His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.
"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.
He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.
"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.
"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.
"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.
"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."
His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.
"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."
With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.
"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.
#asks answered <3#becca writes spice#anon#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#needy!bucky#please no one think this is what a healthy relationship is like#but this really really does something for me#the level of nasty in me for someone who'd say stuff like that is truly endless#I'll be the ✨freakiest ✨wife for someone some day#but for now I've fallen in love with the eviee sendal Doc Martens#and I can't do that#because I know if I get them I'm going to feel way too hot#and that would be dangerous for everyone tbh
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just another day of calling big murder men "babygirl"
#doc ock#otto octavius#green goblin#norman osborn#harry osborn#erik killmonger#n’jadaka#frank castle#the punisher#matt murdock#daredevil#mcu namor#king namor#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#marvel incorrect quotes
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i've spent my morning going insane over all the new pics hbu
#hands are twitching i'm genuinely tweaking#like are they being fucking real w this one#what am i supposed to do with this#be normal?????#trying to be normal in the caption the tags are for unhinged behaviour#i have not even begun to process all the content#i have so so many thoughts#namely smth my friend and i were discussing that involved table sex but it's fine dw#a new doc IS opened tho#buck x bucky#buckbucky#johnslittlespoon yaps
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#talkin#tik tok#mcu#menswear#marvel#black panther#killmonger#eric killmonger#loki#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#doctor octopus#doc ock#otto octavius#red hulk#thanos#kingunic2020#1k
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Friends in the Crucible
MOTA PACIFIC THEATRE || FLIGHT SURGERY AU
1: Welcome to Hell Island
Requested by the sweet @forsythiagalt
AU NOTE: due to a long-standing crush on real life heroine Ensign Jane Kendeigh and her work on Iwo Jima, the current ongoing anniversary of the battle and a hope to not step on the toes of any existing Nurse!xBuck pairings -I’ve gone with what excited my imagination the most and created an entire Pacific AU with our MOTA boys. If this AU ends up being as interesting and stimulating to y’all as it was for me in writing it, I’d be terribly down for exploring more scenarios with everyone in their new and varied roles.
Main paring: Gale Cleven and OC Flight Nurse Ensign Maureen Kendeigh…cameos by “Doc” Egan, John Brady, Ken Lemmons, Harry Crosby and Benny Demarco…and maybe a nod to a certain Marine Captain named “Andy” who I refused to let die, even though he was never on this island. You neither need to have seen HBO’s Pacific or know about the history for this to make sense, in fact it might help my ignorant writing go down better without it 😏
Warnings: WAR?! Graphic descriptions of wounds, battlefields, gore, foul language, period typical language: use of the word “Jap” and a joking insult of “fish eater” for a Catholic. Hints that John Egan is a terror to his nurses, Cleven having to take his pants off for a wound to be examined, brief mentions and emphasis on his never having been touched by a woman intimately, a nurse positioning a man’s member out of the way to his surprise, strictly professional tho. No joke, really. But they’re having a bit of a moment.
Only proof read once. So many thanks to Bee, Christi and Ashley who all enabled me into going this rogue with a simple request and for giving edits and assurances. Hope y’all enjoy!
There were a whole lotta jolts in the descent. Of course there were. Why, there were jolts and bumps even coming down to the runway at Pearl or San Diego, and there had been far more than jolts on the training tarmacs in Kentucky. She had been in enough planes, experienced enough banging about, and had enough wheels up landings that Maureen felt somewhat entitled to her opinion on the necessity of jolts or none.
So far, Major Gale Cleven had piloted this monstrous tin can like a limo, smooth, steady and with full warning for each bank and turn. Maureen had not even had to catch a single falling bottle so far and the rows of empty bunks lining each side of the plane had hardly rattled except in the same low humming frequency of the ever thrumming engine.
But now there were jolts. And of course there were, they were flying straight into a warzone. Cleven had gotten them to Iwo Jima two hours ago, and since that time he’d been circling the island in a wide arc, casually waiting for a pesky air battle between fighters to calm down enough for him to land. Sure, the beaches had been wiped clean and a landing strip had been carved out of volcanic ash and marine corps blood -cleared for their use. But still, there were Jap bunkers, Jap planes, Japs themselves and Jap equipment in that smoldering mountain and so far, no word had come down definitely as to when the island might be considered secure.
It was all very historic, Maureen has been assured -allowing a woman into a combat zone. First time ever, so they kept erroneously insisting. That’s why there was a man armed with a camera and not plasma sitting a few lines down from her on the cold metal bench. Maureen had once had plenty of time to ponder the historicity of her mission and that of her fellow nurses back in Guam, right now she wished she could focus solely on her training and ignore the ominous crack-pop of something hazardous in the air and the resulting wobble of Major Cleven’s steering.
Stupidly she wished the Major’s low voice would come back on through the near radio system and soothe them all back down like frightened livestock. Gale Cleven had a way of managing that even with his face obscured, and while it made Maureen blush to admit she needed any calming, the facts were she was 24 years old, practically untried and desperate to be brave enough to be of use. Rattling on the bench seat between equally nervous girls and a hawk-eyed journalist was no match for the cuticle picking anxiety.
Maureen chose to forcefully look up from said bloody cuticles and was met by Major Egan’s gum smacking grin across from her. How many carriers had he been on when they went down? Kamikaze planes jutting out the side of them, ocean water pouring in, sharks abounding and hundreds of patients under his care, in his charge to tow to shore?
Mild, scattered, poor-man’s flack wasn’t remotely disturbing to their flight surgeon. “He’s great, isn’t he?” Egan yelled to her cheerfully, the jerk of his head suggested his praise was directed towards someone in the cockpit.
Maureen knew well enough that much as Egan respected the co-pilot Demarco, it was no match for the love affair between him and Cleven, an appreciation that had Egan’s special request yanking his friend from Air Force to Navy to Transit. Such a series of bounces in a man’s otherwise distinguished career, all to chauffeur one charmingly entitled flight surgeon, was enough to put anyone into a bad mood -it would explain Major Cleven’s initial coolness on meeting them all at the departure tarmac.
Or maybe he was just businesslike. Maureen couldn’t fault anyone for that. He had been prepped, perhaps not as much as she had, but he didn’t act entitled in any way, and he kept the plane steady. Except for this mounting series of jolts.
“Yes,” she had chosen to holler back to Doctor -Lieutenant Commander? Bucky No Shits? Johnny? Doc “Smirky”?- Egan, knowing he’d want a favorable report on his friend, “it’s been remarkably smooth.”
Maureen was glad truth aligned with diplomacy in this instant. Although if any man could handle the outright truth it was John Egan, no matter what they all said. And “they” said a lot, he had once had two marine squadrons under his care and to them he was a Marine, simultaneously he’d had three navy squadrons to take care of and to them he was a Navy man. He’d even switched uniforms thrice in a day before. And now he was being flown about by his best friend to tend carcasses on a foreign strand, oddly suited to terrible conditions and bad scenarios, offering medical aviation expertise and poorly timed jokes wherever he went.
He’d trained her group of specialized Evacuation Flight Nurses the last three weeks of aquatic conditioning in the states, and he’d culled eighteen out of the group for getting winded after towing full grown men seven laps in the San Diego surf -all while puffing on a cigarette himself, seated with sunglasses on in an motorized dinghy. Maureen had come to hate him that day, and every day after she’d come to want to be like him. Kathleen Martin got her wings pinned first and Maureen right after, “well done, Candy!” Egan had praised while his fist drove in the tack.
“It’s Kendeigh, sir.” Maureen had dared correct for the hundredth time that training week, “Pronounced like: Ken-Day.”
“Cand-ay. Got it!” he repeated with jovial affirmation and that was that.
Major Cleven had given her the respect of calling her ‘Ensign’ as he shook her hand, a quick and firm squeeze and on to her next companion, she’d have judged him as too pristine in everything from mannerisms to features were his war record not ample justification for his bearing. The low cadence of his voice over the coms came in as a slight pitch to the plane and a swoop of decline in altitude became apparent under her—
“All personnel prepare for landing.”
Cleven was nothing like those pilots during training, barking orders laced with frantic warning in their voices. It was a cow pasture back in Kentucky and there they’d had no good reason for alarm. Here where there was real reason, Gale Cleven crooned to them and John Egan smiled opposite her as he took in the effect his chosen pilot had on his nurses.
“Like soothin’ a baby,” Egan sighed as he lounged a little deeper on his bench, long legs deceptively braced for impact, Maureen had long ago learned the man was nothing but smoke and mirrors of his actual intentions, “isn’t he great? In danger of fallin’ asleep with that guy at the wheel.”
To emphasize his point -or more likely to distract “his girls” from the imminent prospect of landing on a battleground, Egan leaned back all the way and tipped his cover over his eyes, pretending to fall asleep. Maureen caught him as he cocked one sharp eye open to see if she was still watching. She gave him a hopeless smile of recognition of his disguised kindness before forcefully suppressing a gasp of shock as the plane hit Amtrak smoothed gravel and ground its way down the beach. Egan hadn't budged by the time the momentum ceased and the plane became bizarrely still after hours of vibrating travel.
“Right. That’s us.” He straightened up, his cover and his posture, rising up in his seat and slapping at the metal ceiling of the plane, “Good job Buck.” he hollered and got no reply. “He’s still crabby about flying a C-47.” he divulged to no one in particular as they all rose and prepared to disembark, drilled for ages in this routine and finally let loose to practice it. Egan’s nonchalance was almost disorienting for such a momentous occasion.
The large cargo door was opened and a irreverently pleasant tropical breeze funneled through the plane, bearing with it the sounds of crashing waves and popping, far off gunnery. There was also a smell that came with it, sulfur and sweet. It was sickening from the first, and Maureen dreadedly wondered if it was from volcanic fumes and rotting vegetation or something more heartbreaking. With her kit on her back she followed her companions out the cargo door, finding Major Cleven blank faced and unphased on the tarmac beside it. Nothing but a smidge of sweat around his hairline to suggest the hours of flight he’d just clocked and the wacky landing he’d managed so well.
“Welcome to hell island, ladies.” he greeted in a droll monotone and Maureen’s gait stiffened without her permission.
There was no true tarmac, as they had been warned, just a strip of cleared back sand churned up by Cleven’s wheels. Lapping waves were on the left side and then a field of sheets to the right. It was the oddest sight. Rows and rows of camo tarp and white sheets blotted pink, hardly a spot of sand to be seen between. They’d been warned it was havoc here, the situation so bad that they’d finally allowed for this exception, allowed the sending in of specialized units to evacuate by air as the boats could hardly ferry enough of the wounded out in time to save them. But this -this beach of corpses was so daunting a task it seemed impossible to choose where to start.
“John,” she heard Major Cleven address Lieutenant Commander Egan as he dropped down beside her, “you’ve only got so many births, do what ya need to do to fill them, but I’ve got my orders. You’re not settin’ up a hospital. When we get the supplies off, get this plane full -we’re takin’ off. Full stop. I’m not gonna have us here like sittin’ ducks for the mortars while you fuss.”
“I hear ya.” Egan assured him in that remarkably unassuring way of his and lit a cigarette. “Alright nurses, gather round.”
Triage was crucial for such a mission, the prioritizing of wounds and necessary services essential for prolonging the lives of those in imminent peril, versus those with the likelihood of surviving on only the essentials found in a corpsman or medic’s arsenal. They’d be back tomorrow with another flight, and the day after that. Cleven was right that they weren’t here to establish a hospital, yet still the idea of how many would perish from being left behind, even by this first flight, was a sickening probability Maureen has been trained to ignore.
“Where are all the corpsmen?” Egan asked one pharmacist's mate who came to greet them, picking his way through the rows of groaning men. The boy couldn’t have been a day over seventeen.
“Up there,” the kid had nodded up to Mount Suribachi and its ominous veil of smoke, “or dead. Lost so many in the first week they started sending us in to substitute. We’ve done what we can. Sure glad to see you guys.”
“What’s your name, boy?”
“Lemons, sir.”
“Hell I can’t call someone a lemon, now can I?” Egan’s grin was infectious and the boy grinned back like he was seeing his first friend in ages.
“Then it’s Kenny. Sir.”
“Yeah alright Kenny, let’s get to it.” Egan had drilled you all so thoroughly you could have performed even without the aid of the grounded pharmacists and their mates, yet still it was odd to see such a mass of wounded and so few to tend them. The desperation and chaos was tangible.
Maureen had barely set off out from under the plane wing when Gale Cleven’s brusque reprimand arrested her steps as forcefully as a tug to her flight suit would have, “That bunch don’t need your help.”
The terse judgment in his tone gave her sharper eyes to notice that the particular section she was headed towards all had sheets pulled over their faces. Her own face blanched at both the misstep and the sensory overload of so much sorting to do. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself, not here, not when faced with the easy part of all this, and she wasn’t going to be crippled by criticism while enduring her first trial by fire. “Right, thank you, Major.” she agreed with him as stoically as possible and ground her heel back around on the sand and tromped off towards the direction of sheets that were visibly alive and writhing in misery.
That changed as soon as they saw her girlish form walking amongst them. Sounds of dying anguish changed to cheerful wolf whistles and happy greetings. It made Maureen’s heart swell with pride at the unbreakable spirit in each of them.
She spent the next hour and a half amongst those men.
Gruesome was a word that Maureen swore to herself that she would never use lightly again. She wasn’t one given to hyperbole anyway, and her years apprenticing in the hospital in Manilla and her most recent training for exactly such wounds as these, understandably led her to believe she knew the mettle of such a word.
But no.
Gruesome, she decided as she began her task again and again, applied only to this: the way the tiniest slip of her hand on any part of this poor boy took skin with it, charred and soupy flesh squishing off meat and sinew like the flaky crust on a prime bit of brisket. It was the only comparison fitting. His own flamethrower had bitten him as he tried to take a countless next pillbox. He’d said it like a joke even as his teeth chattered too hard from pain to deliver the punchline.
Maureen wasn’t here to contemplate ironies, or the unfairness of war, she was here to find some intact vein through which to stab her needle and begin giving him back the blood that was slowly leaching into the black sand beneath him. Ensign Smith was holding up the bottle, throwing a shadow over his charred form that helped Maureen discern a bit better, giving the boy a kind word or ten of reassurance about home and pain relief. Maureen bit through her own tongue when she finally slid the needle home, deep and pulpy, she could only pray it would hold the blood they gave back.
“Alright, bandages, Smith.” Maureen decided and did her best not to jump as a mortar thumped on the sand, hundreds of yards away, but still, they were getting ever closer, proving Major Cleven’s grim prognostication to not be unfounded. He was confirmed that the Japanese didn’t give two shits about red crosses, much less cargo planes carrying in supplies and taking away wounded. Maureen tried not to dwell on it as she and Smith began cutting away filthy uniforms and wrapping their patients' flesh in the Vaseline soaked bandages. It was a terrible business for the first few minutes before the interlaced numbing agents in the gauze took affect and made their care something less like torture for the poor men.
Some of them could walk, a missing leg being a mild injury comparatively, they just needed the helpful shoulder of a technician and off they went to amble into Cleven’s plane. There the Major met them despite it being beyond his purview, handing out cigarettes even though he himself abstained and kept an eye on the Navy mechanic refueling his plane from a bullet riddled jeep. When he wasn’t doing that he was scanning the sky, aviators turned up and reflecting a cloudless sky. Maureen’s mouth grew chalky at the thought of what he was looking out for.
Once wrapped and tended, the men were ready to be hoisted on stretchers and taken to the plane. But those men were select ones, ones that Egan had decided upon. He had a particularly odd way of triaging, one that upon initial observation appeared rather callous and aloof to his nurses who had been trained as much in medical practice as in solicitous decorum.
Doc Egan moseyed through the ranks of wounded, keenly aware he was not as popular as his pretty faced nurses, but making up for it with such easy-going banter that chuckles followed him wherever he went, making the men forget that he was deciding who got relief and who did not. Who were to be permitted the cooling sheets of Elysium by nightfall and who were to be left burning on the sand. Puffing a cigarette and making small talk, he clocked each injury and each likelihood of recovery without giving a bit of it away.
Nearing Maureen’s own patient of the moment, she felt him crouch down beside her and take in the hopeless gut wound she was ineffectually trying to stuff with bandages. A sturner superior would tell her not to bother, to move on, save such determination for someone with a longer life expectancy than five minutes. Maureen found it hard to make that call herself when met with the pleading eyes of someone’s dying son.
“C’mon Candy, move over, lemme try.” Egan murmured and his hip knocked hers gently as he crouched over the boy, perfectly aware of the futility. “Hey bud, breathe for me, breathe. You wanna smoke?”
Egan’s now bloody fingers reached up to his own lips and plucked his fresh and third cigarette of the hour and brought it down to the boy’s chapped mouth, shifting until he was fully seated on the sand, arms around the kid’s shoulders, gently taking the refreshment away when he puffed out, then replacing it for another inhale.
Maureen knew better than to linger. Beside this scene of brotherly last rites was another dying man and a hundred more beside him, so she moved on, seeing only vaguely the way the kid coughed blood as he laughed at Egan’s conversation. The topic seemed to be on the boy’s dog back home. The Sergeant she was tending added in a bit of teasing over the name -who names their dog “puppy”?!
Maureen had barely managed a tourniquet on the sergeant's arm before she could suddenly hear Egan’s gentle chatter turn to low shushing.
The sergeant looked away to the other side.
Maureen noticed the discarded cigarette laying on the sand, it had been smoked to a stub.
The heaving rattle of panicked breath beside them stopped.
Egan shifted onto his knees again and his long, bloody fingers dragged those sightless eyes closed. There was the brittle clink of dog tags being checked.
The sheet was tugged up all the way.
That triage was over.
Maureen politely ignored Doc Egan’s harsh sniff beside her -it was dusty here- but clocked the way he rose to his feet, a rough brushing off of his flight suit and his brusque inquiry regarding her morphine distribution in sector 2.
“All tended-“ she had begun when a shout from the far off plane rang out-
“-JOHN!” That was Cleven’s unmistakable bellow and Egan, despite being in a human sea of potential Johns- responded like he’d been made to hear that one voice alone. “Incoming, west!”
“Shit.” Egan spun westward and sure enough there were fighters with a blazing red sun, rushing straight down at them.
They were such a distance away still, Maureen doubted Cleven’s sight for all of fifteen seconds before horror set in. “They wouldn’t-?” she looked up at Egan whose bitten lip suggested that they would indeed strafe these poor men given the chance.
“Stretchers!” Cleven yelled again, “Get ‘em under the wings!”
There was a callous logic to it. Those men already prepped to be saved might as well be prioritized this much more. Fairness wasn’t something promised in war and Maureen chose to hate Gale Cleven instead of some ephemeral “war” for verbalizing the awfulness of that necessary.
“Do it.” came Egan’s agreeing order and Maureen and Smith took their respective sergeant down near the waterline at a run, fifteen other nurses and the various techs mimicking them. They deposited their men under the relative safety of the flimsy wings and dashed back out for more, leaving two techs behind to hoist the poor fellas into the cargo hold and deposit them in their respective bunks.
“Come onnnnn.” Cleven’s warning yell was drowned by the commencement of allied anti aircraft higher up the beach, trying to pick off the fighters before they reached the landing strip.
Maureen hardly noticed the closing drone of the fighter’s approach, nothing but her heart beat and memorized lines of her training on repeat in her ears. She’d been trained to fight hand to hand if necessary, her folks knew the risks of their daughter volunteering for such service but there was a sour dampening of resolve at the idea of being picked off from the air, not even allowed a bit of struggle to go out with.
All she could do was lift, hoist, run, deposit, do it all again.
They were getting near to full. On one pass through she saw Cleven counting berths and scolding poor Ensign Courter for her rushed method of securing her charge- “five feet drop to the floor on my first bank, oughta be just what that chest wound needs. For God’s sake, I’ll do it!”
He had a cold sort of fury to him Maureen found obnoxiously potent, and she felt a judgment rise in her for his obvious haste in wanting to get out of there. To his credit, when the planes did go by and everyone hit the ground, he was still standing yanking on the straps to secure the top bunk. Bullets punctured the side of the plane and riddled it, tiny specks of light flooding into the dark hold. One man was grazed as he lay in there.
“John!” Cleven warned again after they’d gone by.
“I know, I know damnit.” Egan snapped back from yards away, “There’s just not enough corpsmen -let me finish my damn job.”
“By the time you finish yours I won’t be able to finish mine.” Cleven retorted and the obvious finally occurred to Maureen -perhaps it was not his own safety that preoccupied him but the fragile capability of his riddled plane being able to evacuate once full. That, was indeed, his job. Still, such sentiments expressed as they were from the shelter of the cockpit and from a man who favored a silk blue neck scarf identical to the shade of his eyes, rankled Maureen.
The returning buzz of the Japanese fighters coming back around only cemented her futile rage. Her arms were aching and the sand caught at her boots and her mouth was dry with dust and there were so many, so, so many more left to help. Ensign Smith had been called away to assist with lifting another, and Maureen was knelt beside the man they’d managed onto a stretcher, doing her damndest to find how many bullets were embedded in his left leg and how deep the shrapnel was on his right. There was so much blood and filth it was impossible to tell and Andy, as his name was, couldn’t give her much help besides informing her it hurt like hell and she sure was a sight for sore eyes.
“Egan! At your three o’clock!” There was Cleven again.
Maureen grinned back at Andy and forced it to stay on her face as the buzz of the approaching fighters grew imminent and the dreadful thwump of machine gun fire thudded into the earth yards up the beach. It hit the section of the dead first, a further injury and dishonor. Maureen felt a lump in her throat at the realization she had no one near to help her lift this stretcher and that Andy himself hadn’t a usable leg to spare.
“Go.” her patient told her with a clear look of realization on his face as the leaden spatter of strafing began to elicit responses from those wounded men still alive enough to react.
“No.” The refusal came out of her mouth about as naturally as taking the next breath.
A shadow threw over them for a second and Andy’s facial expression grew surprised, but, stubbornly focused on her patient’s face, Maureen assumed it was the plane passing by at last and chose not to spend her last seconds watching what was going to kill her. “Ensign Kendeigh, lift.” Major Cleven’s voice was so close so suddenly it spooked her flat on her backside until she saw him, squatting down and casting a shadow at the head of the stretcher, poles gripped in both hands, ready to hoist. She scrambled to the foot and took the wood in hand, lifting for the twentieth time that day and running towards the plane.
Time was slow and fast all at once. Cleven’s shadow had come before even the first fighter. But as they ran it zipped by, bullets flinging up sand into their eyes, a near miss. The second one was close behind and as they ran near to the wings, they saw no room was left under them, as crowded as an awning at Coney Island during the height of summer.
Maureen squatted fast and lowered the foot of the stretcher, feeling Cleven mimick her movements behind her. Before she could turn ‘round and enact her training, there their pilot was, body draped over the battered Marine captain, his back as stalwart and protective as the wings of his plane. Maureen threw herself to the ground as well, propping herself over Andy’s battered legs. Together they made a turtle shell of sorts and, damned to be caught cringing when death took her, Maureen kept her eyes open and stared back at Gale Cleven’s gentle face as the -thud-thud-thud- passed them, a micro expression of assurance twitching his mouth and eyes as death passed over.
Who needed to look at the sky when you could find God in those eyes his mother gave him?
For as long as she lived, Maureen would never forget the gust of his spearmint scented breath on her face, the first sensation she registered as soon as the planes were past and they yet remained, alive, locked together above a man they’d both risked dying for.
“Major, you shouldn’t’ve.” Andy’s rough voice spoke Maureen’s own dazed sentiments as they straightened up, Cleven picking up his fallen aviators from the sand, “You gotta fly us outta here, you die an’we’re all sitting ducks.”
“Eh, that’s why we have co-pilots, Skipper.” Cleven grinned before glancing back at the sky, his face morphing into anything but carefree.
“Is that how Lt. DeMarco feels?” Maureen teased wearily.
“I’d never presume to know how Benny Demarco feels.” Cleven replied levelly but the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement, “Ensign Kendeigh, give me a task.” he demanded.
“Sir-“
“I want us outta here in ten.” His tone held no room for argument, “What’s somethin’ even a dumb pilot can manage? Egan!” He yelled as the Lieutenant Commander approached them at a jog, his dark face the picture of rage for the men in his care being further hurt. “Out in ten.”
“Not gonna happen, still got supplies to distribute-“ Egan was visibly inscenced.
“-one more pass on my plane and we’re not gettin’ up. Look at that back wheel” Cleven replied, nodding at the deflating tire. “Hand me your shit, what’re we supplyin?”
“Aren’t you queasy for needles?” Egan balked, finding time for teasing despite himself.
“Hand me the damn syrettes.” Cleven stuck his hand out.
“You're under Candy’s orders.” Egan stipulated, pointing to Maureen and Cleven nodded.
“Yup, and we leave in ten.”
“Okey Buck, go, go, go.”
The nurses that had gone before them had tagged and labeled each, making it easy for Maureen and Major Cleven to squat along the rows and complete what help could be given. Her other companions were doing the same, each staggered at a few yards and assisted by Corpsmen and pharmacists. And despite the tension from the strafing and the dismal prospect of having to leave so many behind, the hum of chatter soon picked up again on the beach.
“Shit, shit, shit, no-I hate needles!” Marty, eighteen years old but with eyes that had seen a little too much, bore his dressing with tired stoicism until Cleven pulled out the morphine syrette.
“Son,” Gale murmured with barely concealed amusement, “your side looks like a bear cub teethed on it, you’ll be fine. And this’ll help.”
“Don’t ‘son me’ you baby faced glamor boy.” Marty spat back, marine corps superiority coursing through his admittedly impressive veins.
Gale was midway through a good natured snicker at Marty’s venom when the heavy shock of lobbed mortars began to thud the beach again. “Jesus.” the Major sounded more annoyed than surprised and had the wherewithal to place a restraining hand on Marty’s chest as the kid began to scramble up in panic, displacing Maureen’s dressing on his ribs.
“Cleven, they’re chewin’ up our strip!” Demarco yelled to them from the cockpit and sure enough, craters were beginning to form at the end of their taxi-able stretch of beach.
“Don’t leave me! Don’t leave Major!” Marty suddenly clutched at Cleven and the Major had to wrench his arm free. “Calm down, private, you’re on a stretcher.” he then ducked his head as he moved round to seize the poles, “And if there’s one thing you should know,” he went on in a low murmur just for Marty’s benefit, “it’s that Doc Egan doesn’t waste his stretchers on dead men.”
Carrying Marty’s stretcher to the plane was Maureen’s last jog down the beach. She ran up the cargo ramp and Cleven was after her, handing over the task of racking the private into a bunk to one of the nurses before sternly ordering a path for himself through the crowded belly up to his cockpit. Demarco had the full radio system on, the better to communicate with the nursing personnel as they prepared for take off, and everyone aboard could hear his exasperated greeting as his reckless officer took his seat.
“You really game enough to try to get this Goony off the ground with less than a thousand feet of strip?” Benny’s broadcasted doubt made most nurses pause in their work and Maureen met Andy’s eye from the third bunk halfway along the plane wall.
“I thought he said that’s why they have co-pilots.” Andy joked to her quietly.
“Mm,” she agreed mischievously, “I guess co-pilots are one thing, co-Clevens are another.”
“Should find a way to mass produce.” Andy sighed, “War would be over in five seconds.”
Gale Cleven hadn’t even refuted Demarco’s concern verbally and already the crew shrugged it off, if Major Cleven couldn’t get them off Hell Island then no one could, and that was that.
“John Egan, get your ass onboard, it’s wheels up.” Cleven’s yell out the window blasted through the radio, too, and the girls grinned at each other -Major Egan wasn’t one to get bossed about. But, as if to challenge everything they knew about life and their own superior, mere seconds later, John Egan was hopping up into the belly of Cleven’s plane with his empty sack dangling and sweaty hair in disarray. “We’ll be back Kenny!” he yelled to the young pharmacist’s mate left on the sand as the cargo door was hastily wrenched shut by Brady.
“Honey I’m home.” Egan yelled up to the front and Demarco’s snicker echoed along the walls of the tin belly.
“Everybody stow your gear,” Cleven’s order came through, the pounding vibration of nearby mortars shuddering the plane even more than the engine’s revving, “we’re gettin’ outta here now. S’gonna be bumpy.”
“That’ll be one word for it.” Demarco snarked, “Death by bumps.”
The human cargo in the plane, those not groaning or insensible, let up a unanimous chuckle. It helped to have been to hell and back, a quick death as a plane failed to get air and plowed instead into a sand bank was hardly the worst prospect these men had faced.
“Believe, Benny, believe.” Maureen could hear Cleven’s soft smile in his voice as the wheels began to roll.
Brady, their engineer, navigator and the lone crewman besides the pilots aboard this transport, kindly manhandled Maureen to a seat between his legs on the rattling floor beside Egan’s built-in desk, his hand fisted in the back of her jumpsuit collar like she was a kitten. They kicked their legs out together and braced as they gained speed and the plane began to jostle into the milder craters at an ever more intense pace.
Shell fragments made a series of charming bangs off the side of the wing nearest her and Maureen could hear Brady whispering behind her in repetition “God spare the oxygen, God spare the oxygen, God spare-“
“50-“ Demarco’s countdown was unfortunately broadcasting like some morbid game announcer and Maureen could see Egan’s jaw ticking in stress under the harsh overhead lights.
There was a terrible blast in front, the sound of shattering glass or metal and a jarring shudder went through the plane, “Damnnit.” Cleven hissed but the acceleration remained.
“You hit?”
“No. Read me, Benny-“
“80-“ Demarco obligingly resumed counting.
“C’mon Buck.” breath gusting on Maureen’s neck behind her, as Brady had begun to direct his prayers to the Major now and as if in answer, the stomach swooping feeling of flight took over them seconds later as the cargo plane let out a mighty roar of strained endurance and lifted with a wobble that had more than a few bunks puking their guts out. There’d be over five hours to clean the plane floor and attend to housekeeping if they could just level out and stay up long enough to get out of range.
Down the way from them Egan was still seated, one hand holding aloft a not yet hung plasma bottle and the other gripping a support bar. But his head was starting to nod like a dancer keeping pace with the band’s ever growing tempo. The engines had a beat, if you’d been personal with a plane long enough to pick it up, and Maureen paid attention to Egan’s stippling fingers on the cross bar as they mounted and mounted, little bursts of enemy gunnery causing a comparatively mild wobble to the plane body every few seconds. She figured a veteran like Brady would know when it was safe to let her go; judging by the grip on her collar he was still highly dubious of their lasting success.
“Fighters, -everyone brace.” Cleven’s voice warned about as cooly as if he was pointing out the drip of ice cream slipping down a cone.
“Ice man.” Andy praised from his bunk to the agreement of his companions as the fighter zipped by without so much as a shudder from Cleven’s steering.
Plenty of the passing bullets had punctured the belly and one man got a direct hit. “Candy!” Egan commanded from his place checking the unfortunate man’s pulse, “Go remind Buck that we haven’t got the oxygen to go full bomber, he’s gotta keep low and -Candy! When ya come back, time to start throwin’ on blankets. Brady, get our pumps going. This is as steady as it’ll get.”
“You got it, commander.”
More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his electrical station, then past it to poke her head between the pilot’s seats.
“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”
Their front window was partially shattered and the metal on Cleven’s side was gnarled.
“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.
“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.
A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”
“How bad?”
“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.
Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a blooded toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.
“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.
“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.
“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.
“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.
“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.
“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”
“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.
“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”
Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”
“I know sir.”
“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”
“Much obliged, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.
“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.
By the time she got to the belly again her assigned job of doling out blankets had long been accomplished by her fellows. Brady had the place lit up like an operating theater and there was the added drone of medical equipment added to Cleven’s engines. She liked to think of them as his now, Maureen realized, a tiredness seeping in now that the rush was over, now there was just six hours of the same until they touched down again in safety. His engines stayed with them, consistent, steady, dependable yet a little absent, just like the man himself.
“Major Cleven said he’ll keep her low, Doc.” Maureen reported dutifully but whatever humor Egan once held when sending her to the cockpit was now gone, a bloody mess on his hands as he and Ensign Dormer worked over a head wound.
“Good.” Egan gritted out, “I need a monitor on vitals and I need new gloves, c’mon Candy, c’mon!”
The hours passed like this, no way of telling time in the artificially lit tube of metal. Some men needed a cup of water and a kind smile, others required every bit of grit and intelligence to keep even the faintest pulse discernible above the hum. When one of them passed away in the anonymity of the top bunk, Egan didn’t bother to cover his face, the man looked to be sleeping and it suited the morale better if his fellows were not disillusioned on that score.
It was impossible not to think for a split second on the unfairness of it all -live to be finally evacuated and only die before getting safe. To think how someone else less tore up might’ve been given that bunk and survived the trip.
“Can’t dwell on it.” Ida Brady, their headmistress back in Manila, had said -and she had been right. But seeing her brother Lt. Brady cross himself now in recognition of a soul passed did something to Maureen’s own spirit, a grieving sort of fury possessed her which matched Egan’s own as they worked on the next unsalvageable man until he became a likely contender for seeing his wife and kids again.
She had been up for nineteen hours, flying for ten of those, nursing for four. She was bone tired and yet there was always someone to be tended and the thought of leaving one of these poor men without even the slightest of their needs met felt impossible. Maureen didn’t even think to pause or lag in her expertise, neither did the nurses around her and up there at the front somewhere, Cleven’s eyes were sharp and focused as ever, she knew it, and knowing it brought a calm over her that made her sympathize with Egan’s own superstitious preference for the man.
Brady came through with coffee, an abnormal duty he picked up as a result of trusting no one else with the process or the electrical requirements to make it. “Figured our pilots could use it.” he explained before passing out a passel of paper cups to the girls filled with the peppy stuff, belying his practical excuse, before taking two to the cockpit.
He came back out with a funny look on his face- “Benny says he needs a pan.”
“What the hell for?” Egan balked.
“Or a condom.” Brady dutifully amended the petition.
“I repeat -what the hell for?”
“They’ve drank a lotta coffee sir.”
“Any of you fellas got condoms?” Egan asked his patients with a laugh and got a series of predictable replies. “Gale Cleven sure as hell don’t.”
There were light hearted moments like that, many of them in fact, but six hours of flying with wounds as bad as the ones they were tending was no joke, there were bits of laughter and there were times of quiet and there were restless sleepers whose terrors not even morphine could dim.
“Forty minutes out.” Major Cleven had gone quiet over the coms for so long it was like hearing from God again when he came on, gentle and steady.
Those they couldn’t get comfortable were at the height of their groaning as the cold and the endless buzz got to them. Helplessly the nurses offered pillows and water and irrigated the burns with saline and checked needle positioning. Maureen had taken to charting, something too often neglected in high stress environments but something that proved terribly crucial as soon as they landed and handed over their charges to a new set of professionals. On the left side of the plane she held one man’s wrist after another and noted their pulse. On the right side she did the same, one man’s left hand after another, wedding band or sans wedding band, in her notes it was only ever:
“94, 57, 88, 91, 63, 82”
The lights had been dimmed, hopes were some rest could be gotten by those in any shape to manage sleep. It made for a drowsy atmosphere, only the flashlight in her teeth illuminating the veins under her fingers and her co-workers faces, Egan’s face was a shiny mess of freckles in the torch light despite the chill, exhaustion seeping out of him but not a hint shown in his workmanship. It made the dull chorus of groans in the dark all the more ominous and Brady remarked to Smith on one pass that maybe they should have brought a record player.
“Twenty minutes out.” Maureen and every other soul on board was living for those little updates from Cleven.
Men told to hang in there and not die before they could be gotten to surgery suddenly had a goal in mind and the suspense was growing brutal. Stashed and stowed, secured and checked, landing preparations were already done and it was last minute tending before taking seats. Maureen found herself nearly piddling by one young private, trying to soothe him with a washcloth as sepsis fever wracked him when over the intercom came the oddest lulling hum, like a far off jazz intro.
It was too soft initially to be recognized but the surety picked up, something about the tone unmistakably belonging to their pilot, his hums about as characteristic of him as his laconic speech.
“Is that whadda friend we have in Jesus?” Demarco’s voice overtopped the gentle melody.
John Egan was wheezing in a chuckle beside her as Maureen shook her own head in disbelief.
“No,” Gale murmured, humming paused only briefly, “it’s ‘Leaning on the everlasting arms’ -you fish eater.”
“You gotta be jokin’.” Benny was wheezing too but Cleven was back to his gentle humming, words actually forming this time and filling the tired plane with a timbre that could put Bing Crosby out of a job.
“What have I to dread, what have I to fear
Leaning on the everlasting arms?
I have blessed peace with my Lord so near
Leaning on the everlasting arms”
It worked, the sickening drop in elevation was -if not noticed- bravely pushed aside for a hymn sing, Brady leading from the back and Cleven from the front. And for a brief moment, men from Kansas to Florida, Oregan to Rhode Island, strapped in a flying coffin of flickering souls, were seated back in the pews of their childhood, trusting something larger than themselves. Even if that something was Gale Cleven’s steady hands or the justness of a cause worth dying for or God Almighty, it was something big and above the pain of right now.
“Leaning, leaning
Safe and secure from all alarms
Leaning, leaning
Leaning on the everlasting arms”
The Navy station at Gaum had a runway, in fact there were five Cleven could have picked at whim, and there was no feeling so beautifully civilized and sure as the smooth roll of plane tires on asphalt after what they’d just left. “Flaps at quarter!” and they were slowing, the deflated back wheel only causing some slight disturbance, and then they were stopped.
That bizarre stillness settled again as the engines were cut. Egan gave Maureen a smile so soft and telling that her heart about seized in realization -they’d managed it. “Well that’s us.” he repeated for the second time that day, voice gone raspy with cigarettes and fatigue. “Welcome to American soil, boys.”
There were so many lights outside the cargo door, searing white flashes in the nighttime, jeeps and ambulances and all manner of medical personnel at the ready, it was overwhelming in the exact opposite way the beach at Iwo had been. Maureen hopped down onto the tarmac with Ensign Mann, ready and prepared to stay with her charges until the transition could be made. Clipboard in hand and kit on her back, she’d go in with her select five until they’d been admitted and charted meticulously in the various wards.
“How’s it feel to make history, Miss?!” -some of those lights, Maureen realized with a dull throb behind her eyes, were flashbulbs. Journalists were thick as thieves, snapping and hollering, others respectfully keeping a distance, “You're the first woman to step foot in a combat zone-“ Maureen kept her hand on her stretcher even as she watched Cleven limping over to a jeep and piling in after Demarco. Her mouth set in a sour line of suspicion regarding his claims of being unscathed. He’d be in interrogation and she in the wards for the next hour, she’d have to find out later.
A couple of hours later John Egan was sat with Captain Crosby in the administration office, nothing but a small alcove at the front of the ward, his legs spread wide in his chair and good scotch whisky being slurped from a cleverly injected orange while reviewing the charts. Croz was a whizz at this, meticulous and careful to a fault and John adored him for it because men who gave a damn were scarce after this many years of grueling loss and, also, because it allowed himself to wind down sooner than he was technically free to do so.
“Two men lost, that’s -that’s still good odds.” Crosby couldn’t manage an upbeat tone, he felt those two lives as deeply as Egan did, but facts were facts and over all, this experimental mission had proven beyond successful. Now to tell that to the families of the two men now being carted to the morgue instead of surgery and salt baths.
“Yeah, my girls were Trojans out there.” Bucky sucked his teeth, the squint in his eyes beginning to relax with a boozy sort of calmness. “Speakin’ of Trojans! —Candy!”
Maureen approached the little alcove at a tired gait, not above reprimanding Egan for his loud voice with all those occupied beds just feet away. “It’s late, Commander.” she reminded with hinting softness that only made him crane his head back and grin sloppily at her.
“It is, it is.” he agreed, reaching up to pat her arm and she squinted at the smell of whiskey, Crosby’s sudden and transparent busyness with the charts confirmed her suspicions. “You should get some shut eye, Candy! Back at it tomorrow.”
“So should you.” she hinted kindly.
“Mm,” he hummed in negative, “apparently my ‘specialty’ is needed elsewhere before then.”
“And so the booze?” she struck back and Crosby’s pen briefly dragged along his tidy line in shock at her daring.
“Steady hands, Candy darlin.” Egan responded, lifting two sticky palms up and showing, indeed, not a tremor. “I’ve got a surgery in less than an hour -working with Brady’s old sister, of all people, the one who snuck out of Manila after?- anyways, she’s 90 pounds of spit and vinegar. Starved for two years, but she takes three weeks off and a round of anti-parasitics and she’s all ‘let me back at ‘em.’ Hell of a dame. Anyway, surgery with her. I need this.”
“Well,” Maureen Kendeigh knew when to let go of a fight with a man who’d as yet never failed her or anyone else, despite his habits, “I can confirm it does nothing for your eyes bags.”
“Kiss ‘em better?”
“Not in my purview, sir.” she couldn’t help but smile, “Perhaps lieutenant Brady will be obliging?”
“She scares me.” he objected.
“And I don’t?”
“Only in the ways I like, Candy Darlin’.” he insited.
“Ah Major!” Crosby’s strained greeting drew their attention away from this over rehearsed banter and Egan straightened up fast upon sight of his friend.
“Buck!”
“John.” Gale Cleven was in the same uniform he’d been in for hours, flight jacket undone and scarf hanging loose. He must have come straight from interrogation and standing in front of the administrator's desk he was turning his cover over and over in his hands. Maureen was certain that were she to devote two hours a day to brushing her hair she could never bernish it to the golden brilliance that twelve hours of flight-sweat gave his. On a more concerning note, his was pale as death except for those lips. “I came to check in on everybody. Load of journalists out there.” He thumbed back behind him at the public area, “Mostly curious about you, Ensign.”
“Historical.” Egan affirmed and sent Maureen a sly look as she sighed over the fuss being made of her mission.
“I’m one of twenty.” she reminded.
“I hope you were nice about her.” Egan goaded his buddy and to her confusion, Gale flinched as if that were a remarkably successful mode of attack.
“O-of course.” he frowned severely and Maureen had a desperate urge to thumb those lines away. “I told them the truth.” he defended, mildly heated.
“Which is?” Egan was enjoying this and neither Maureen nor Harry Crosby could seem to puzzle out why.
“They did remarkably.” Cleven didn’t budge.
“Better than you thought.” Egan prodded.
“Yeah. Admittedly, far better than I thought. Jeeze, John.”
“But were you nice about her?” Egan insisted.
“What?”
“You said they were particular about Candy.” Egan said, “So what did you say?”
Maureen grew concerned that with such a level of fluster in the Major’s face not a stitch of blood seemed able to raise a blush.
“How ‘bout you read it in the paper.” Gale replied, coolly mean before clearing his throat and straightening up, back in possession of himself. “I came to see how many -how’d we do?”
“Twenty eight.” Egan confirmed.
“Outta thirty?” Cleven asked for confirmation.
“Yes sir.” Crosby answered him.
“Alright.” The Major accepted that, hat still whirling in his hands, a strange contrast to his perfectly contained posture. It drew Maureen’s eye to his hips and that deep red stain running down his pant leg.
“How’s your hip Major?” she asked, seeking to break the silence before Egan did so with some new and regrettable subject.
That did bring a flush and a sheen of sweat broke out on a face Maureen knew would be feverishly hot were she to touch it. He looked peeky, truth be told. “It’s fine, ma’am.”
“Hold up,” Egan stood from his chair and leaned over the desk to glare blearily at Gale’s trousers. “You're hit.”
“It’s a scratch.”
“Scratches don’t keep bleedin’ like that.“
“Well, mine do.”
“Hey, I don’t go tellin’ you how to fly your planes-“
“-you do though.”
“-so you don’t go tellin’ me what’s a scratch and what’s a wound. It’s still drippin’, that makes it a wound.”
Cleven moved his boot to the side impatiently and only succeeded in proving his friend’s point as a line of fresh blood smeared the white tile. “I was gonna just -“
“-What?”
“-Clean it in the shower.” Cleven sighed, defeated but with an edge that suggested he might yet do it .
“Oh, just gonna rinse mortar fragments outta of your thigh, yeah?”
“It’s not that bad. Dunno if it really got hit.” He protested, “Might be scratched.”
“Or you might have a piece of your instrument panel snuggled up to an artery.” John affirmed sarcastically. “We’re goin’ up again tomorrow. I need you fit, I need you good.”
“I am.”
“You’re gonna get checked.” Egan commanded and Gale looked back at the double doors leading to freedom and a pack of journalists and sighed. “You’re on the ground now, flyboy, I call the shots.”
“Ok.” Cleven mumbled, “If you’re so goddamn eager to pants me, do it.”
“I am, I am but I’ve got even better things to do.” Egan rounded the desk and flung an arm around Gale in parting, bringing him in close despite Cleven’s stiff necked antipathy that hid only the deepest seated endearment, “Like putting a left lung back where it should be and trying to get Lt. Brady to smile at me.” Egan expounded, letting go and beginning to actually leave, much to Cleven's sudden concern, “Which is, naturally, on the left -the left lung, that’s where it goes.” Egan went on.
“Wait, aren’t you gonna-?” Cleven called after him.
“Pantsing is more of Ensign Kendeigh’s purview.” John replied cheerfully. “Don’t look so appalled, I'm sure she’s seen smaller.”
“John!” Major Cleven and Maureen both inflected his name like twin, scandalized parrots.
“You deserve each other.” John laughed, “Ensign, do your duty.”
“This is the kinda behavior that has you gettin’ write ups for bein’ a terror to your nurses!” Gale growled after him in remonstrance but it did nothing to slow Egan’s tactical withdrawal.
“Bulshit, everybody on this ward loves me!” John dared to claim even as he was berated on his way out by more than a few wounded marines for being a little too jovial at two in the morning.
Cleven didn’t wait for the doors to fully close on Egan or for Maureen to collect her professional demeanor and clipboard before he was leaning over Captain Crosby at his desk, large hands splayed on the fresh paperwork, assuming the pose of a supplicant before a lawyer. “Harry, Captain, do me a favor this once and take a look fo-“
“-Major Cleven sir,” Harry Crosby interjected levelly and with the utmost respect, “I’m an administrator.”
Maureen composed herself, the sight of this stoic man losing a grip on himself due to the prospect of lost modesty was surprising, it was also motivating to find her own professionalism and put him at ease. “Major, if you’d follow me?” she nodded her head towards the ward and started clopping down the dim aisle toward one of the last empty beds. He didn’t need to lay down for it but she needed her instrument tray, an isolated light and, if his shyness was so severe, drawing the sectioned curtains would hardly be amiss.
When she arrived and turned round to instruct him, he was obediently there to obey. Something about that dogged respect for authority he possessed and his compliance with her own profession filled her with an odd protectiveness and she motioned him into the space gently, tugging the curtain closed behind him. He was taller than she realized, made more apparent as he took the initiative and tugged off the bulky weight of his flight jacket, methodically laying it out in a half fold on the bed, nothing but a lean line of him left in olive green.
Lanky, her mother would call him, a long drink of water. He looked all of twenty four, suddenly, soft and in need of a meal. “Your leg, yes?” she reaffirmed, jotting it down in the chart. She had found that men found it easier to talk of injuries when she wasn’t making eye contact.
“Yes.” His voice was low as the grave and hushed too, “And -I think maybe my hip.”
Maureen’s eyes flicked to the place in question, recalling how she had suspected his lap in general on the plane. “Right.” she made the customary jot down of the detail and then an arguably unnecessary note beside it, the longer to give him a chance to cool himself. “Your pants Major, if you would.” she filled in the date and the time, cursory information so as not to be idle while he undid his belt, the clank of the flat uniform clasp deafening in the space where he seemed to hold his breath.
She was used to discerning the moment when it was safe to look up. Often there was a brief period after the sound of pants hitting the floor where one might have the misfortune of catching a man adjusting himself to a preferred side. She was prepared to give him that moment in peace but his voice called her to attention.
“Is this?-“ he didn’t finish his sentence and she looked up to see his vague gesture as he stood in briefs and boots, jacket hung open, too.
“Yes I think we can manage with those on.” she smiled reassuringly, discerning his query. His skivvies were blood stained on the right and clinging to him but the wounds appeared to be above and below their coverage, “I’ve always got scissors if need be.”
“Scissors.” He repeated with a nod, teeth savagely dug into his lip.
“Jacket off, this could get messy.” She ordered and something about her decisiveness seemed to soothe him like she knew it would, he shrugged it off gracefully and laid it beside the sheepskin, and yanked at his tie to relive his bobbing throat. “Please, sit Major.”
He sat down on the bed, a little stiffly, and she reached above her to turn on the large overhead lamp, shining it down on them both and in the harsh glow of it she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen something so beautiful as Gale Cleven’s blushing face fixed upturned towards her own.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood, looks like.” she attempted to make conversation and got a mere nod instead, once she stepped nearer, his eyes devoutly focused themselves somewhere to the right of them, on the floor.
She rinsed the area first, wiping away the crusted blood until his smooth, lightly haired skin came into view, little jagged tears visible in it with small fragments embedded. It wasn’t bad at all, but deep enough to keep it bleeding.
The touch of cool water made him jolt in surprise. What it didn’t do was make him shrink. She saw his hands curl, white knuckled around the mattress pad beside him as she gently dug out the metal, and she had a suspicion it wasn’t from the pain.
As unabashedly as her profession had taught her, Maureen tugged up his boxer leg until she was satisfied she’d uncovered the last little shard and did what was necessary, reaching atop the wet fabric and moving his heavy member up and away. He about bucked off the table at that mere touch of positioning and Maureen backed away out of pure animal instinct to avoid getting reflexively kneed.
“I'm sorry!“ he rushed out, his chest suddenly tight like an elephant were sat on it and his blood thudded in his ears, “Ensign, I apologize, I don’t know why-“
“It’s fine.” she insisted, stunned and pitying at the realization she probably was the first woman to touch him this way. To touch him at all. “I’m sorry this requires it.” she admitted.
“Please don’t -“ he took a large breath and began again, actually managing to meet her eyes out of sheer willpower, “-I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re doing your job, i don’t know why I get- it’s unprofessional of me, I'm sorry.” he repeated firmly and straightened his spine as if he could discipline a most human reaction away.
“It’s not at all uncommon.” She whispered, feeling compelled to be unprofessional herself if only to make him stop berating himself, “We nurses deal with this all the time, quite normal after combat, particularly.” Maureen paused for a moment and weighed the joke on the tip of her tongue as she dabbed iodine on a cotton ball and prepared to go back into the dreaded zone of his thigh crease, “It’s to be expected, the manual says; your blood is quite literally UP.”
Stood there in suspense between his legs with the iodine swab waiting mid air, Maureen waited until she saw a flicker of amusement twinkle his sad expression and a snicker escape that sober mouth. “Tell me about it.” he rasped, exasperated at his own body. “Every damn time.”
“That’s what I’m doing,” she teased, bringing the swab down and ignoring the sizable jolt his whole body and appendage gave at this dab to his thigh or the way his belly caved in with his deep intake of breath, “I’m telling you it’s normal.”
“Damn, you are sweet.” He declared suddenly with gut wrenching emphaticism that finally broke Mauren’s own precarious composure. “Not just to me,” he hastened to add in response to her melting expression so close to him, “to everybody out there. You were incredible today.” He paused and Maureen swallowed hard and tried with great difficulty to find the capability to thank him for the compliment. Before she could, he added with youthful honesty, “But you are -sweet to me.”
“Right back at you. Major.” she insisted, daring to stay that close and look back into those eyes she thought would be her last sight on earth for a second there on the beach earlier. His shuddering breath suggested he was recalling it, too.
“It’s nice to have friends in the crucible with ya.” he explained and Maureen felt her heart glow.
“Your poor hands.” she whispered, dropping her swab to gather his shaky hands in hers, the large palms engulfed her own even as she tried to cradle them. Never a hint of this anxiety while flying them, yet here he was shivering with it afterwards. “Probably blood loss.” she gave him an out, some men weren’t ready for talk of flight exhaustion or strained nerves.
“Then why’s it wasting all I’ve got to spare on…that?” He actually managed to joke back and Maureen actually allowed herself to laugh -god help her, she laughed at a man’s joke about an ill timed erection.
“John would say something about hope springing eternal, right about now.” she wheezed even as he groaned, his hands still placidly jittering in her grip, “I enjoyed your singing, by the way.”
“Mm, yeah, well,” he cleared his throat, “you didn’t see the hole in the wing or the busted flaps all the way home. That landing didn’t promise to be as pretty as it was.”
“But it was pretty.”
“Yeah. Not too bad.”
“A gorgeous landing.” she insisted and his eyes started to water under the harsh light. Impulsively, and in an act of unprofessionalism she would have never recognized before today, Maureen Kendeigh drew his hands close to her chest and pressed a kiss to his lined forehead. The way he sagged against her in a shuddering lunge suggested her impulse was a good one. “Doc Egan insists whiskey is good for this.” she whispered into hair that smelled so strongly of his musk and the wool of his cap she about buckled from it.
“Mm, but is it g—good for him?” he responded rhetorically, a gust of moist breath against the open throat of her flight jacket, his usual irony still remained with only a hiccup of nerves interrupting his speech. Maureen wasn’t sure anymore, what saved a life, well, it had saved a life, so why demonize it? She was here to force things to keep living in environments so hostile wildflowers gave up. Some men needed their booze and some men needed to be held in the hospital ward at two in the morning until their shakes calmed. As if he could read her mind, she felt Gale turn his head to the side a little for breath, face still pressed to her chest as he uttered quietly, “This is working. For me.”
“Good.” Nose buried in his hair she took a few measured breaths herself, feeling that odd calm still radiating off him, even as his body was shot to hell and giving off the overtaxed jitters. “You bring people calm, you know that, Major? It’s why Egan picked you for this, deep down, you make a plane load of dying men hang in there. That’s a gift. But when you’ve got a cup you keep pouring out of, it’s bound to go empty. Gotta refill yourself, sometimes, yes?”
“I thought this was blood loss.” Gale replied softly and it took Maureen a beat to recognize the sad mischief in his blue eyes.
“Alright. I’ll speak for myself.”She conceded with a huff.
“You must be exhausted.” he noted, suddenly as sober as they come.
“A little tired.” she admitted, questioning the way she instinctively tightened her hold on the back of his neck as he stiffened to pull away. Entirely unprofessional, she wasn’t a medicine spoon or a needle, he had every right to pull away.
“So what would fill your cup back up?” he asked in that low voice that sent a million varied undertones crashing through her, whether he intended it or not.
Too tired to be much more than plainly honest, or as honest as a woman should be with a half undressed patient cradled to her chest, Maureen admitted the half of it, which in many ways was the whole, “This is working for me.”she repeated his own words to him and watched them take effect.
Like a sudden reanimation had occurred, Gale Cleven untangled their hands with emphatic surety and then, in an act of kindness Maureen never expected, brought them to her shoulders and tugged her down for a solid embrace. “A hug and a nap then.” He prescribed, his solid shoulder beneath her cheek and his legs parted for her to step between. Only the bandages kept him from bleeding further on her.
“Not a nap,” she smiled, an inexplicable warmth and calmness flooding through her in his hold, his back was broad and lean under her hands, “we should go to sleep.”
“No such thing as going to sleep in the military, Ensign.” Gale murmured, “Sleep -that’s what happens when your mama tucks you in and you’ve got a whole night to waste. Naps. That’s what we take.”
“Alright, a nap, and a hug.”
“Alright.”
“You know,” Maureen dared with a little smile as some part of her slotted back in place and gave her the boldness to be a little too much, “there’s this thing people came up with ages ago where you hug and take naps at the same time.”
Pink cheeked but with a jaw clench that had defeated warzones, Gale Cleven pulled his head away and gave her a heavy look of admonishment, “Marriage.” he stated unamused.
Well, she had meant sex, and she wanted it, always had after danger -but Cleven had a point too.
“Uh, yes, that’s the most common-“
“-If I were to marry you, Maureen Kendeigh,” his voice took on a teasing lilt that was somehow more devastating than all his commanding earnestness, “there’d be no nap taking.”
“Oh.” A single utterance was about all she could articulate in the face of that smirk and gentle refusal. Both flattering and painful all at once. “Well, that’s not for us then.”
“No.” he pondered, full lips twitching downwards in disappointment, “At least, sounds like a decidedly post-war endeavor. No naps.” he clarified.
“Oh -yes.” she caught on, well used to the code of superstition all around her that didn’t allow men to spell out any sort of lasting, long term hope. “A postwar endeavor.” she agreed, never having heard marriage so smartly categorized.
“Uhuh,” his hands trailed up from her ribs to squeeze the sore muscles of her deltoid, “for now -naps. Back up tomorrow.”
“Alright.” she agreed, stepping a small distance back and looking him over, this time his presence didn’t shrink, in fact if anything he expended in the small room and it made her chest ache, “You're alright?” she made sure one last time.
He held his palms flat up and Maureen could attest they were indeed steady, terribly large, too, and his watch on his wrist was careening towards three o’clock. “Looks like it.” he rasped. “But you’re in charge here. Can I go, Ensign?”
Regretfully Maureen nodded, “You’re dismissed, Major.”
When he stood up from the bed he was by necessity in her space, looking down at her rather fearlessly as he yanked up the waist of his trousers and gathered the belt closed around his lean waist. Maureen felt her cheeks burn but couldn’t look away, if she were to glance away from those eyes she might see something even more tempting before he’d secured the fabric.
“Got any more duties after this?” he asked, breaking the moment as he bent to arrange his trouser hems over his boots.
“No.”
“Then I’ll walk you to your billet.”
“For naps.” she clarified cheekily.
“For naps.” he agreed with mirthful vehemence, finger pointed at her with almost paternal caution to not push his patience.
“Do you want your shell fragments?” she rattled them in their dish, the pieces she'd pried from the shallow muscle of his hip.
Cleven paused with his hand on the dividing curtain, shaking his head in amusement, “Give ‘em to Egan,” he suggested with a wicked little smirk, “knowing him he’ll make a talisman out of them or something equally useful.”
Hope y’all enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s life blood, lemme head your thots or screams! Xoxo
Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added for my MOTA fics)
@stylespresleyhearted
@ab4eva
@earth-to-lottie
@suraemoon
@blurredcolour
@steph-speaks
@crazymadpassionatelove
@rubyfruitjungle
@taestrwbrry
@storysimp
@javden
@sexualparkour
@jointherebellion215
@sunny747
@ask-you-what-sir
@xxanaduwrites
@pretty4u
@yorkshirekiwi
@waitedforlove743
@elvismylove04
#mota fanfiction#mine#archive#friends in the crucible#Gale Cleven x OC#Buck Cleven x OC#Buck Cleven#austin butler#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler imagine#masters of the air#Bucky Egan#doc Egan#Maureen Kendeigh#iwo jima#hbo war#john egan#callum turner#Callum Turner fanfiction
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#doc barnes is losing his professional uppernhand#patreon teaser#stucky#doc barnes#steve rogers#bucky barnes#wartime#fresh baked steve#my art
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Men in HBO War shows: I'm fine.
Narrator, other characters, the fandom: He was not fine.
#hbo war#this is about robert rosenthal in episode 6#but also bucky in ep 5#could also apply to buck compton and malarkey#and doc roe#this is about all hbo war men#they are not ok
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Spoilers for my next Clegan fic:
Plus Gale's reaction:
#genuinely i feel great the allergy meds are doing so well#theyve fueled this#yeah i opened my docs to plan england arc of a/b/o fic but this was more fun#ive chosen the fic to cleanse my soul after courting fic destroyed it and my sanity#mota#buck x bucky#clegan#john bucky egan#gale buck cleven#masters of the air
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My Character Ai Links
Miguel O’hara
Possessive Miguel
Yandere Miguel
Unhinged Possessive yandere Miguel
Venom
Clingy Symbiote
Werewolf Bucky
Affectionate obsessive werewolf Bucky
Toxic Steve Rogers
Obsessive and Toxic husband Steve Rogers
The Winter Soldier
Cold and two sided
The Mandalorian
Obsessive Din Djarin
Mob Boss Miguel
Your Mob Boss Husband
Miguel O’hara au
Prison au
Hydra Bucky
Bucky is your handler in Hydra
Ghostface Miguel
He’s hunting you
Frost Giant Loki
He loves how tiny you are
Doctor Barnes
Bucky Barnes, head doctor at the mental ward
Dark Steve Rogers
He’s obsessed with you in sickening ways
Yandere Tony Stark
Obsessed Tony
Dad Miguel O’hara
Strict father Miguel
Dark Loki
Possessive and obsessed with you
Doc Ock
Why he kinda?
Doctor O’hara
Mental ward doctor
Doctor Stark
Mental ward doctor
Doctor Strange
Cold and tired of everything
Dr Arthur Harrow
You ended up at his facility
Father
For the daddy issue girlies
Khonshu
Overbearing god
Leo
Yandere Boyfriend
Lola
Just a friend
Mafia Father
Protective mafia boss dad
Mother
For the mommy issue girlies
Scarlet Witch
Yandere Wanda
Vampire Bucky Barnes
Obsessive vampire Bucky
Vampire Miguel
Blood lust
Bruce Banner
Kind and shy
Yandere Jake Lockley
Obsessive and violent
Yandere Steven Grant
He’s obsessed with you but still cute
Yandere Marc Spector
He likes to punish you
Evil Wanda
She's obsessed and keeps you trapped in a false reality
#Character Ai#My ais#moon knight#steven grant#marc spector#jake lockley#marvel#mcu#Yandere#Yandere Marc Spector#Yandere Steven Grant#Yandere Jake lockley#Yandere moon knight#Bruce banner#Tony stark#Steve rogers#Bucky barnes#The Winter Soldier#Khonshu#Scarlett witch#Arthur harrow#Doctor strange#Doc ock#Venom#the mandalorian#Loki
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#who else#feel free to use#hbo war#band of brothers#masters of the air#buck x bucky#winnix#gale cleven#john egan#dick winters#lewis nixon#joseph liebgott#david webster#webgott#eugene roe#doc roe#babe heffron#baberoe#band of brothers meme
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"can we talk about 40s bucky" no. "can we talk about bucky in his 40s" yes. send tweet
#this is a joke post.#correction: this is half of a joke post.#the part that's the joke is the format#the part that's NOT the joke is me being a terminal middle aged man enjoyer since Ever#28yo bucky? eyes closed. not looking. i sleep.#42yo bucky? eyes wide open. looking disrespectfully. wide awake.#bucky barnes#that anon who was like 'glad to see u obsessed with the blorbo' i am BRAINROTTED!!!#bucky barnes x reader#<- since that's what it's in reference to. when guys are old enough to feasibly be my father i develop heart eyes disorder#no cure. terminal. the prognosis is lookin grim doc
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I'M BEGGING SOMEONE TO GIVE ME ENERGY TO FINISH MILK AND SUGAR!!!!
milk and sugar is the name of part two of milk and honey
#i'm losing my mind staring at this google doc#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#steve rogers#steve rogers imagine#stucky#stucky imagine#stucky x reader#𓆩♡𓆪 angel's thoughts 𓆩♡𓆪#omegaverse
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"Clan vs Clan" - A Warrior Cats RvB AU
Allegiances
RoseClan
Leader:
Redstar (Sarge) - Dark red lynx point with amber eyes
Deputy:
Cinnamoneye (Simmons) - Red-brown tom with gold tabby splotches, one orange eye and one green eye
Medic:
Oakroot (Lopez) - Brown tom with yellow eyes
Warriors:
Morningsleep (Grif) - Orange classic tabby with white paws and tail tip
Pansymask (Donut) - Pink-ish brown ticked tabby with orange eyes
Mudriver (Lorenzo) - Dark brown tom with a white patch on his chest
Brackenfire (Gene) - Reddish brown and white tabby with yellow eyes
Rainbowheart (Cronut) - Brown ticked tabby with amber eyes
Elders:
Bloodpath (Surge) - Flame point with blue eyes and a white tail tip
VioletClan
Leader:
Deputy:
Thunderwind (Church) - A silver lynx point with bright green eyes
Medic:
Barkmoss (Loco) - White tom with dark tabby patches
Warriors:
Duskheart (Tucker) - Grey tom with white paws and chest
Softblast (Caboose) - Brown and white tabby with dark blue eyes
Tranquilsky (Temple) - Grey and white point with blue eyes
Bouldersong (Bucky) - Light grey tabby with white paws and muzzle
ThornClan
Leader:
Stormstar (Director) - Black color point with blue-green eyes
Deputy:
Spidersilk (Counselor) - Black and white tom with yellow eyes
Medic:
Lavenderpetal (Doc) - Dark brown and white tabby with blue eyes
Warriors:
Mountainstep (Maine) - Thick furred white tom with a pale ginger tail and ears
Gingernose (Wyoming) - White tom with a light brown tail and a distinct patch on his muzzle
Dawnflower (North) - Pale ginger and white tom with green eyes
Duskflare (South) - Pale ginger and white molly with green eyes
Briarwish (Connie) - Dusty brown tabby with a white muzzle and yellow eyes
Weaselstep (Vic) - Pale brown and white tabby with orange eyes
Sparkfrost (York) - Brown tabby with a white back and tail
Snowclaw (Carolina) - Grey color point with striking green eyes
Apprentices:
Shellpaw (Wash) - Dark grey tortoiseshell tom with yellow eyes
Nightpaw (Texas) - Black spotted tabby with a white chest and muzzle
#warrior cats#red vs blue#rvb#church rvb#sarge rvb#simmons rvb#tucker rvb#agent york#agent texas#director rvb#agent washington#agent carolina#agent connecticut#agent maine#agent wyoming#caboose rvb#vic rvb#counselor rvb#leonard church#aiden price#doc rvb#grif rvb#dexter grif#dick simmons#epsilon makes#donut rvb#temple rvb#mark temple#bucky rvb#cronut rvb
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"he could've stayed in london"
"cleven, up until he died, talked about egan"
"he said something like, 'it should've been me & you getting married'"
#7am. seven fucking am.#no one talk to me i'm gonna go sulk in a google doc#the most piney yearny wistful unrequited motherfuckers#i'm teary all over again man i can't do this#the last thing i expected to hear at 7am on a friday#buckbucky#buck x bucky#masters of the air
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Captain Asshat Lives Here
Summary: You saved Steve, however he is living up to being America’s Asshat. Will you two ever get along? A slow burn
Steve Rogers x Female Enhanced Reader
Warnings: 18+ please. Smut (oral m and f receiving, p in v, fingers galore), mentions of Rape and forced loss of pregnancy, torture, and kind of mean Steve.
Word count: 8.5 K, I’m sorry that I have no chill
I have to thank @peyton-warren , who has helped me get this out of my brain and onto this page, and for betaing this multiple times for me. You are a godsend, you’ve helped me more than you know. Story is under the cut.
Next Part: Where There's a Bucky, There's an Asshat
You ran, blood dripping from the stab wound in your leg, trying to lose the asshole chasing you through the trees. Steve fucking Rogers just couldn’t leave well enough alone, and now he cost you this Hydra base, along with a pint of blood. He wasn’t even aware of your presence until you saved his ass from the knife. You’re welcome, you thought, your lungs burning from lack of oxygen.
You heard the shield before you saw it, dodging and rolling to the side just in time. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he going after you when you clearly weren’t the enemy? If you ever saw Bucky again, you were going to have a long talk about his choice in friends and colleagues.
You started to feel light headed, you blood pressure suddenly plunging. You looked down at your wound, the blood seeping out even faster, the wound now torn even more, most likely from the stop, drop, and roll you just did. You tried applying more pressure to your wound, tearing a strip of your shirt off the bottom to tie around it. You looked up, Rogers standing over you, telling you not to move.
“Fuck. One of you is bad enough, three of you is a fucking nightmare,” you reply just before passing out. Steve stooped down, applying a pressure wrap to your wound while calling for an extraction. He looked down at you, wondering why you saved him. He didn’t know who you were, but he was sure as hell going to find out.
————————————————————
“What have we got, Captain Rogers, and since when do you bring home strays ?” Doc asked, meeting Steve at the bay doors to help transport you to the emergency med bay. Sam and Clint pushed the bed you were cuffed to past Steve and Doc as he gave her the rundown.
“She’s got a large stab wound to her leg. I tried to put as much pressure on it as possible, but it’s pretty deep. She lost consciousness before I got her on the jet. I have no idea who she is, but that knife was meant for me and she took the hit,” Steve said, staring at you with curiosity and distrust.
“Let me take a look at her and see what were dealing with” Doc said, removing the pressure dressing as she stared at your wounded leg. “Holy fuck. Captain, I thought you and Buck were the only super soldiers left after Zemo cleared the rest out.” She pulled the pressure wrap off, finding a semi healed wound, the skin pink and raised on the outside, the gash already connected and healing with new tissue.
“We are, why do you ask?” Steve responded, apprehension written all over his features. He stopped the conversation he was having with Sam and Clint and came over to the side of the bed Doc was on.
“I ask because her wound is almost completely healed. The knife clipped her femoral artery, she should have bled out long before now.” Doc looked you over from head to toe, seeing if there were any other wounds she may have missed. You had a few scattered bruises, but those looked almost completely healed.
“Who the hell is she, and what the fuck is going on?” Steve asked himself, trying to figure out what your place in all of this was. As Doc was checking your pupillary reflex, Steve texted Bucky to head down to the med bay immediately.
“What’s so important, Steve? Wizard and I were just in the middle of something,” Bucky said as he entered the room. “Hey beautiful,” Bucky murmured, kissing Doc on the forehead.
“Hey handsome,” Doc replied, stopping to smile at her soldier. “Are we still for dinner and dancing tonight?”
“Since when does Rusty Bucket know how to dance?” Sam said, causing Clint and Doc to laugh. Bucky shot a warning glance at Sam and threw the closest object to him, a bedpan, at the bird man’s head.
“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent dancer, right Steve?” Bucky defended, twirling Doc under his arm before dipping her back and placing a kiss on her neck.
“Yeah, fantastic. Can we get back to work please?” Steve retorted, his gaze focused on you. “Bucky, were there any other super soldiers Zemo may have missed?” Steve turned to face his friend, concern etched in his features.
“All work and no play makes Steve a dull boy,” Clint teased as he made his way out of the room before Steve could reprimand him. Sam followed suit, twirling and bowing to Bucky as the metal hand flipped Sam the bird.
“Not that I know….holy fuck. Steve, where did you find her?” Bucky asked urgently, moving to your bedside. “It can’t be, she died,” he said to himself.
————————————————————
You slowly opened your eyes, the bright lights of the room harsh, the sound of the heart monitor steady, starting to speed up the more conscious you became, your fight or flight kicking in when you realized you were restrained. You had worked too hard for this to happen again, you would die before letting Hydra experiment on you again.
“Hey, hey, relax. It’s Bucky, you’re going to hurt yourself.” You had started thrashing, unable to hear anything above your heart pounding in your ears. You felt hands grab you, making you fight even more.
“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME!” you screamed, kicking Steve in the face since your legs weren’t restrained. “YOU BETTER FUCKING KILL ME THIS TIME! I WON’T LET YOU DO THIS TO ME AGAIN!”
“What the fuck?!” Steve yelled, rubbing his jaw where your foot connected. He looked in your eyes where he saw nothing but anger and fear. Who were you yelling at, and what did they do to you? The only other person he had seen react this way was Bucky when he was still the Winter Soldier.
“Okay, that’s it. Everyone except Bucky get out,” Doc demanded for your benefit as you struggled like a wild animal. When you heard Doc say Bucky, you looked to your side, your face flooding with recognition and relief. Bucky moved to remove your restraints while Doc cleared the room.
“Are you seriously removing her restraints? She just kicked me in the face!” Steve yelled, shaking Doc off as he watched Bucky.
“Can’t say it wasn’t deserved,” Doc mumbled as she once again ordered Steve out. He finally turned and left, making his concerns known the entire time.
“Bucky, where am I? Did they get us again? I thought you got out,” you said, reaching out to touch his face as if to make sure he was real. It was a ritual between the two of you during your time with Hydra. Bucky reached out and touched your face also, confirming he was in fact real.
“I did, I got out and got better, all because of you,” he said, tears falling freely down his face. “They told me you were dead. I looked for you, but when there was no trace, I buried you.”
“I had to die to make them stop. Did you make it to Wakanda?? I reached out to Shuri when I heard you were out. I knew she would be the only one who could help you,” you replied, dropping your hands from Bucky’s face, your eyes moving to Doc, anxiety instantly rising at the sight of the stranger.
“That was you?” Bucky quietly asked, moving closer to Doc to show you could trust her. “I made it. I am no longer Soldat. I also got a fucking goat and new arm out of the deal too,” he chuckled. Your eyes drifted back to him, then back to Doc. Your heart healed just a little when you saw the love shine in Doc’s eyes as she looked at her super soldier.
“This is Doc, she is the doctor on staff here and also my girl,” Bucky said as a way of introduction between the two of you. “Is it okay if she takes a look at you, just to make sure you’re okay and healed correctly?” Bucky asked.
You looked over at Doc, appreciative of her allowing you to move at your own pace. You nodded your head, throwing a tentative smile her way as she moved closer.
“How did you end up in the same area as Steve?” Bucky asked as Doc listened to your lungs and heart. She then flashed the penlight in your eyes, making you wince.
“You mean Captain Asshat?” you replied, irritated by the mere mention of him. “I was following up on a lead for that Hydra base, and Asshat got in the way. I fucking got stabbed for him and he couldn’t even be bothered to say think you.” You pulled your pants back up while Bucky and Doc laughed at your colorful description of their friend, knowing just how uptight and stubborn he could be.
“He’s not that bad, he just doesn’t trust easily, especially with anything that has to do with Hydra,” Bucky advised, even more amused when you rolled your eyes and started pouting. He knew you and Steve were pretty much the same person and couldn’t wait to see how this turned out.
“Whatever. I’m just saying, a thank you for taking a hit never hurt anyone.” Doc laughed as she finished up, amused not only by your commentary, but also at seeing the anger on Steve’s face as he walked in and overheard you.
“Why would I thank you? I didn’t ask you to do anything for me,” Steve answered, irritation lacing his reply which earned him another eye roll, completely exaggerated to anger him further. You looked at Bucky, whispering for him not to say anything to Steve about you. Not yet at least, as you didn’t fully trust Asshat either.
“Doc, when you clear her, I need her for questioning,” Steve said, ignoring your theatrics. Bucky sat smiling, loving that Steve was getting a run for his money. You stuck your tongue out at the Captain behind his back, immediately plastering a fake smile on your face when Steve turned around trying to figure out what was so funny to Bucky.
“I’d like to keep her overnight, even though she’s already healed, just as a precaution. If she’s up to it and agrees, you may speak with her tomorrow,” Doc answered, knowing how pushy Steve could be when working. You shot Doc a look of appreciation for treating you like a human and not a prisoner.
Steve wasn’t happy with her reply, but he knew better than to argue with the good doctor. He’d made that mistake one time, and only one time after he questioned her treatment of Bucky after a particularly difficult and dangerous mission. He then had to deal with Bucky when he regained consciousness and was informed by Doc of what had transpired. Nope, he would not do that again. He may be stubborn, but he did not have a death wish.
“Fine, she can rest tonight.” Steve conceded. He turned and walked away, his face red, features skewed with agitation.
“How considerate of you, Captain Asshat. I will forever be indebted to you for this kindness,” you mocked, sarcasm dripping from every word spoken. You bowed to Steve, laughing when he stopped walking and looked at you, rage turning his face red.
“Why are you like this?” Steve asked, his jaw clenched, hands balled into fists as he stared at you. “I did you a favor bringing you here, you should have a little more consideration and class.”
“Okay, put the claws away,” Bucky grumbled, moving between the two of you before any physical fighting could start. “As much as this amuses me, you two are going to have to try and get along.” Bucky pushed Steve out the med bay doors, nodding his head as he listened to his oldest friend vent about you.
Doc chuckled, extremely amused by the fact that you and Steve were perfect for each other, you just hadn’t realized it yet. “Come on, there’s an extra room on my floor where you can clean up and get some sleep. I’ll have Bucky bring you some clothes to change into.”
You and Doc talked a little, typical small talk, getting to know you questions, until you reached the floor. As Doc led you to your room, she turned around and said “He isn’t as bad as you think he is. Steve is actually very kind, and he cares for everyone with a big, open heart. Be gentle with him. His heart is fragile.” She turned and walked to her apartment, leaving you to your thoughts. Maybe she was right, maybe you were being too hard on Asshat. You would stop eventually, but right now it was just too entertaining.
————————————————————
It started the way it always did. The flashbacks of torture, experiments performed with no anesthesia, the mind erasure performed anytime you let even a hint of non compliance slip through, the tortured screams of Bucky, your only friend and comfort during these moments. You heard screaming, thinking this was just part of the nightmare, not realizing this was actually you screaming as you slept.
You felt Bucky before you heard him, his grip on your shoulders tight as he tried to wake you. “Hey, hey, come back. It’s a nightmare, come back,” he yelled, trying to make you hear him above your own piercing screams.
Doc slapped you across your cheek, purely to shock your system and bring you out of your nightmare. You opened your eyes, sweat pouring down your face, your eyes taking a minute to focus on the people in front of you.
“I’m…I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You wiped the sweat from your forehead, and swallowed a deep breath. Your entire body was trembling, almost as if you had a fever and your body was chilled.
“Hey. It’s just the nightmares, remember?” Bucky asked, pulling your hands to rest on his cheeks to show you he was real. You nodded your head, inhaling, exhaling, allowing the nightmare to end.
“Come on. Bucky has Wizard for moments just like this,” Doc said, walking towards the door. Bucky smiled reassuringly, holding his hand out to help you up.
“Wizard?” You followed apprehensively yet curious. “What the fuck is a Wizard and why do you have one?” you say softly, talking to yourself out loud. You see Doc open the door, and when you hear Wizard bleat, you can’t help the squeal that escapes your throat.
“Holy shit. You really do have a fucking goat!” you exclaim, dropping to your knees as Wizard throws his head into your hands. You instantly feel relaxed, the tension slipping out of your body as you pet the goat. “Shuri always did love her goats.” You chuckle as Wizard starts to nibble on your hair, his tongue running up the side of your face.
“Did she try to send you home with one too?” Bucky asked, doubled over in laughter. Doc sat on the other side of Wizard, who turned around and nuzzled the other woman affectionately.
“She tried, but I had other plans. I told her as soon as I had completed my mission, I would come back and take one home with me, wherever that ends up being.” The three of you were so wrapped up in Wizard and sharing memories of Wakanda, you missed a certain Captain standing down the hall.
Steve had heard the screams, thinking Bucky was having one of his nightmares, which he hadn’t had since Doc came into his life. He then feared your sudden appearance had triggered the nightmares again, and assumed this little meeting was Doc comforting Bucky.
Steve wanted to stay and listen, his distrust of you growing stronger every time you talked back or acted like a brat. And he was most definitely not an Asshat. As he felt his blood pressure rise, he decided to head to the gym to blow off some steam. He stopped when he heard Bucky’s voice, but didn’t feel right listening in on his friend.
“So, do you want to talk about them?” Bucky asked softly, concern etched in his handsome features. You refused to look at him, scared your emotions would explode, making you weaker than you already were. No. You didn’t want to talk. Wizard sensed your anxiety, moving to sit on your lap, like a dog, and eat your socks. It was oddly comforting, allowing you to relax.
“It was bad after you left, Bucky. They knew I had helped you escape and they made me pay.” You tried your best to harden your emotions, emotions made you weak, but even you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. With Doc on your left, Wizard in your lap, and Bucky in front, you started to tell your story.
“Every day was a new form of torture. They tried to give me powers the way they did with the Maximoff twins, but nothing ever worked. When they failed, I would be beaten. It ranged from punching to electrocution and drowning. There was one guard assigned to watch me every night. And every night, he did more than watch.” You stopped, unable to say the word. Even now, you couldn’t escape the trauma of what he did to you.
“Well, I ended up in a family way, and Hydra wasn’t happy. They stopped the growth, removing the offending part, no anesthesia or care given. Once I’d stopped bleeding, they decided to to try a new brand of torture: asphyxiation. They would squeeze until my heart and breathing stopped, only to bring me back with electrical shocks.” You gazed down at Wizard, unable to look Bucky or Doc in the eye. This was the first time you’d ever spoken about what happened, and it would also be the last.
“They let me escape, not knowing I’d been training myself to slow my heartbeat for as long as possible. If they thought I was dead, they would be done with me. And it worked. After I they threw my body out, I ran as fast as I could, trying to reach any of my old contacts for help. I managed to reach one, and he got me to Shuri. Shuri broke whatever hold Hydra had, but she couldn’t reverse the serum. I’m okay with that now, I think it saved my life. I started taking them down, until Asshat got in the way.”
Bucky looked at you, knowing better than to show any pity. You weren’t weak, you weren’t defenseless, and he was nothing but proud of you and amazed by you. Doc quietly cried in the corner, trying to hide as she didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.
“It’s okay, Doc. I cried my tears a long time ago. I’m okay.” Wizard bleated, sensing the need for a break in the tension. Everyone laughed, you dropping a pet and kiss on the little goat’s head. “On that note, I’m going for a run before Cap comes for me.” You got up and waved to the others, heading to your room to change and leave. A run would do you some good, hopefully clearing your head before the Dapper Douche came to collect you.
“How long do you think it will take these idiots to see they are perfect for each other?” Doc asked Bucky, laying her head on his shoulder as she pet Wizard. She heard Bucky’s chuckle rumble in his chest as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
“They are the most stubborn people I have ever met, so I’m assuming it will hit them like a bulldozer at the worst possible moment.”
Bucky stood up and offered his hands to Doc to help her up. “I am quite wired though, so maybe I’ll head to the gym and burn off some of this energy,” Bucky said as he walked back to their shared apartment.
“I have a way for you to burn off some energy, Sergeant,” Doc replied, pulling her super soldier towards their bedroom. “Not only will it be cardio, but we’ll also work those core muscles.” Bucky’s laughter carried down the hall as the couple shut themselves in for their workout.
————————————————————
You’d just walked into the kitchen, fresh from your ten mile run, stopping at the fridge to grab something to drink. You heard footsteps behind you, and an all too familiar sigh. With a roll of your eyes, you turned around to face the very annoyed captain.
“What did I do now, Captain Ass?” you asked, your smile fake and plastered so wide, your wisdom teeth were visible.
“Can you start a conversation without insults?” he asked, his distaste written all over his face. “I saved your life, you could be a little grateful.”
“Oh, yes, you’re right. Let me try this again. Thank you so much for getting in my way, forcing me to take a stab for you because you weren’t paying attention. Thank you for kidnapping me then treating me like an enemy as I lay unconscious. And thank you for making me feel so incredibly fucking welcome with your questions. Did I cover everything?” you asked, taking a drink from your bottle of water, thrilled at the anger twisting over Steve’s face, his cheeks red.
“Why should I trust you? I never asked you to save me. You were at a fucking Hydra base, but I’m supposed to believe you aren’t on their side?” Steve yelled, causing you to flinch.
“You don’t know anything about me, Captain,” you replied, anger in your voice, your body starting to shake. You curled your hands into fists at your side, your nails creating bloody craters in your palms. You felt your blood pressure rise, heat flushing your entire body.
“You’re right, I don’t. Let’s be honest, you haven’t been very forthcoming either. And that makes me think you work for Hydra, that your ‘sweet’ demeanor is just a means to an end, just like your ‘friendship’ with Bucky!”
Steve moved closer, causing you to step back until you were trapped between him and the wall, one arm on each side of your head. You started to feel the familiar panic start at not being able to escape, your heart pounding, vision blurring with tears. “Back. Off.” you said, jaw clenched so hard your teeth were grinding.
“Why? So you can run and tell everyone how the mean old Captain yelled at you? Tell me what the fuck you’re doing here, and maybe I’ll back off. Otherwise, we can head to a cell and you can stay there until you’re ready to tell the truth,” Steve sneered, ecstatic at your reaction. Steve thought he was making you angry, so angry you might slip up, not realizing you were actually terrified.
“No, please. Don’t lock me up,” you said, your voice strained and quiet. You didn’t know you were crying until you felt the tears run down your neck, landing on the back of your hands. “Can’t be locked up again…please, please move,” you whispered, pushing on Steve’s chest. Even with your super strength, you had a hard time moving the man. When you couldn’t get free, you dropped to the floor, your knees pulled up to your chest as you rocked back and forth repeating nonsense.
“What the fuck kind of game are you playing?” Steve yelled, grabbing your arm to force you to stand. You pulled your arm out of his grasp, screaming for him to leave you alone. With a wild look in your eyes, you beat your fists on his chest yelling for him to move, to stop, to never touch you again.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Doc yelled as she ran into the room. “Steve, what the fuck are you doing? Back off, now!” Doc demanded, grabbing your arms and turning you to look at her. It took a moment, but once you realized Doc was the one touching you, you stopped fighting, immediately breaking down as she hugged you.
“What in the entire fuck is wrong with you? Bucky, you better come get Rogers before I knock his ass out!” Doc yelled to the Sergeant, steering you towards her med bay.
“You couldn’t just leave her alone? You had to push and push. You have no idea what she has been through, Steve. No fucking clue!” Bucky reprimanded. “What Hydra did to me doesn’t even scratch the surface of what they did to her!”
“Wait, she was a prisoner? Like you?” Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck and dropping his eyes in shame. He’d had no idea, hadn’t even bothered to give you a chance to explain. “Bucky, tell me what the fuck is going on here. Who is this woman?” Bucky started to tell Steve about your time together when he was the Winter Soldier, how you defended him, helped him escape, how you were tortured and raped, left for dead. He explained that Wakanda had been your doing, and how if you hadn’t been there, he never would have been released from Hydra’s control.
Steve’s face drained of all color as Bucky continued. How could he have been so blind? You weren’t the bad guy, you were trying to erase Hydra, saving his life was because you were on the same side, not because you had an ulterior motive. “Fuck, Bucky. What have I done?” Steve said, completely embarrassed and regretful. He’d never acted this way towards anyone before, but he’d treated you no better than Hydra had. He was so ashamed and angry.
“You need to make this right, Steve,” Bucky said as he walked away, heading towards the lab to check on you. Steve moved to the living room, sinking down on the couch, trying to figure out how to make things right. He’d never been so wrong before, so judgemental. He of all people, knew what it was like to be judged and bullied, yet here he was, acting every bit the bully. Bucky was right, he had to fix this, no matter what. He decided to go for a to clear his head and come up with an apology.
————————————————————
When Doc got you into the med bay, you were completely incoherent and in shock, suffering a panic attack from Rogers badgering. Doc pulled up two milligrams of Ativan, giving you the injection in your left ass cheek to help calm you down. Fucking Steve Rogers. While she loved him, she also knew how stubborn he could be, especially with someone he saw as a threat to those he loved.
You closed your eyes and slipped into unconsciousness, the medication taking immediate effect. Bucky walked in to check on you, relief flooding him immediately as he saw you sedated. He asked Doc how you were, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head.
Doc let loose a stream profanities and threats, ending with one Steven Grant Rogers being neutered if his attitude didn’t change immediately. Bucky laughed, falling even more in love with his girl.
“I know he means well, that he’s protecting those he cares about, but she is a victim and he treated her like a criminal. She did nothing to him, NOTHING!” Doc screamed, tears streaming down her face.
“I know, sweet girl, I know. I talked to him. He knows now, and he looked devastated. He knows he was acting out of character. I don’t think he’s figured out why, though,” Bucky said.
“Well, he better figure it out soon if he wants to keep his balls,” Doc grumbled. “Speaking of the fucking devil,” she said as Steve entered the med bay.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve said, holding his hands up in surrender. “White flag. I fucked up, I know it. Can I sit with her?” Steve asked quietly, looking over at you. He didn’t know how he was going to fix this, he just knew he had to try. He sat in the chair on the side of the bed, his head in his hands. Steve had no idea what had gotten into him.
“You upset her, even the tiniest bit, I will remove your balls and shove them so far up your ass, your mouth will get pregnant,” Doc warned as Bucky pulled her out of the room, unable to hold back his laughter. A threat from Doc was like a hiss from a spicy, cute kitten. Steve grabbed your hand and rested his forehead on it, waiting for you to wake up.
————————————————————
Your hand felt warm, very warm and very heavy. Why was your hand so warm and the rest of you chilled? Why couldn’t you move your hand? Why couldn’t you open your eyes? Something squeezed your hand causing you to squeeze it back.
“Hi.” You slowly opened your eyes, trying to turn your head towards the source, your head foggy from the medication. As your eyes started to focus on those annoying baby blues, you tried pulling your hand away.
Steve squeezed your hand again, begging you to stop and listen. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but I am so sorry.” He grabbed your other hand, enveloping both of yours in his, his eyes pleading with you. You nodded your head, allowing him to continue.
“I don’t know what came over me, and I know that is no excuse. I cannot apologize nearly enough for my behavior. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I’m hoping you and I can start over.” He raised those puppy dog eyes, sincerity shining through.
“Bucky told you, didn’t he?” you said, unable to hold eye contact. You were familiar with what pity looked like and you didn’t want it from anyone, but especially not from Steve. You weren’t sure why, but you wanted him to see you as strong, not weak and broken. “You don’t need to pity me, I’ve made it this far.”
He squeezed your hands again. “Hey, look at me. I don’t pity you, not at all. I think you are amazing. You are strong, resilient, and if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have my best friend with me right now.” As he stared at you, he couldn’t help but blush from embarrassment at his admission. He dropped your hands, rubbing the back of his neck, anxiously waiting for you to speak.
“I forgive you, Asshat. And I’m sorry too. I just had way too much fun pushing your buttons…”
“Well, I guess I’ll leave you alone…”
You both looked at each other as you spoke at the same time. “You…you don’t have to leave, you know, if you want to talk or something,” you offered, trying to spend more time with this infuriating man. Who you noticed had amazing eyes, wonderful arms, hands that you wanted running over every inch of your body…oh, what the fuck was happening to you.
Steve sat back down, smiling at the invitation to stay. He never noticed how pretty your eyes were, never noticed how your hair enhanced the color even more. Your neck was so inviting, and he found himself wanting to kiss and nip down to your collarbone, over your breasts. He stopped, his eyes moving back to your face, scared that he’d been caught checking you out like a teenager.
You both turned at the sound of the med bay door opening, glad for the interruption as both of your minds had started going down a different road.
“Is the war over?” you heard Bucky ask, slowly walking in just in case anything went flying. Bucky knew your temper and also knew your habit of throwing objects at peoples heads when angry. Bucky took in the scene around him, looking at both you and Steve, expressions on both of your faces flustered and embarrassed. He smiled very wide when he realized just what he’d interrupted.
“I’m going to head to my room…”
“I need to go see what Sam is up to…” you and Steve said at the same time as you walked away.
Doc walked in just as you two left, asking Bucky how things were going in here, checking to see if any of the equipment would need replacing. Bucky just smiled, wrapping his arms around Doc and kissing her neck. “I think they’re finally figuring it out,” he chuckled as he led you out of the room.
————————————————————
“What the fuck is happening to me?” you asked Wizard, feeding the goat a slice of apple, while he stared at you. “I know, I know, I’m a moron.” You continued your conversation, completely unaware that Steve was standing right outside the door.
Steve stood listening to your commentary, smiling to himself. He’d just been having this conversation with himself, making the decision to talk to you about whatever was happening. He didn’t know exactly when his feelings began to shift; if he was being completely honest, you’d been on his mind since he met you. You stepped in front of a knife for him, you challenged him at every turn and never backed down, and you had a strength about you that was so quiet yet so powerful.
“He wouldn’t see me in the same light I do him, not after someone like Peggy Carter. Or hell, even Sharon. I most definitely do not compare to women of that stature. No one wants the broken box of crayons.” You giggled as Wizard nibbled your cheek, trying to get more apples from you. “Okay, maybe you would want the broken crayons because they probably all taste the same.”
“Is that what you honestly believe? That I see you as broken?” Steve asked, walking into the room and kneeling to pet Wizard. He looked at your face, staring into your eyes, trying to ascertain your true thoughts. You dropped your gaze, shame and embarrassment flooding your body.
“Were you eavesdropping, Asshat?” You held another slice of apple out to your furry friend, needing his comfort for this conversation as vulnerability was never your strongest moment. You rarely allowed yourself the chance to be in this position, never wanting to be seen as weak in the eyes of those around you. You may be a super soldier, but it didn’t stop your insecurities.
“Is that what you think? You honestly think I see you as broken?” Steve asked, grasping your chin to make you look at him, ignoring the chomps Wizard was bestowing on his shirt.
“You are resilient, selfless, a pain in the fucking ass, sarcastic, but above all, you’re just you,” Steve continued, his bright blues shining with honesty. You tried to look away, suddenly shy, your discomfort fading into something else.
You looked at Steve’s lips, then back to his eyes, slowly finding yourself leaning in closer unintentionally.
Steve started leaning in also, slowly closing his eyes as both your faces inched closer and closer, your heart beating so loudly, you know he heard it. To be fair, you could also hear his, enhanced hearing and all.
Just as your lips touched, as you felt his breath fanning your mouth, so close you could taste the mint from his toothpaste…just as you finally kissed this pain in your ass, Wizard popped between you two, nibbling on your cheek, then turning to do the same to Steve’s nose.
You both laughed, doubling over as Wizard continued to yell for attention and food. With tears streaming down your face, you turned to see Doc and Bucky standing in the doorway, amusement all around. You looked back at Steve, placing your hands on his cheek, your forehead pressed to his, needing to reassure yourself of him being there, just as you did with Bucky.
“Thank you for being real,” you whispered.
————————————————————
The next few weeks were something you’d never experienced: calm and peaceful. You and Steve spent a lot of time getting to know each other, going for runs, watching TV, working out, sparring. Your feelings blossomed, but the best thing about the entire situation is how he was willing to go at your pace.
After everything that had happened, your assault and the events that followed mainly, you didn’t know if you’d ever feel desire again, especially sexually. Although you knew it wasn’t your fault, it still made you feel as if you were less than, leading to feeling broken. But Steve put you back together, sealing your cracks and pieces with twenty four karat gold, like the Japanese did with their valuables, proving nothing is ever truly broken. Some cracks just need to be filled and brought together.
Everything was so great and you were finally happy, which is why the lie hurt you so much. It was a small lie, maybe more of a hidden truth, but it cut deep nonetheless.
You’d just finished your morning run, and headed to the kitchen to grab some water when you heard the conversation. You stopped, not wanting the other two super soldiers to hear you, or sense your presence.
“Do we have confirmation this is actually a Hydra base?” you heard Steve ask as you watched him rub his face in frustration.
“Yeah, we got confirmation from Hill today,” Sam said. You felt your body stiffen, fear pumping through your veins. You’d almost allowed yourself to forget about all of this, living in a bubble filled with bliss. For the first time in a long time, you’d allowed yourself to forget, but you always knew the other shoe would drop.
“Fury wants us out in an hour. But no one tells anyone else about this mission. I don’t want her spiraling back down to where she was before,” Steve said.
You heard him sigh, and you understood why he was asking everyone to lie to you , but it didn’t hurt any less. You left, your mind and heart battling the other, however you knew what you had to do. You headed to your room, changed, and leaving before they realized you were gone
After changing, you wrote a quick note, placing it on your nightstand, then made your way down to the plane hangar, needing to commandeer one if you were going to beat the men.
You stopped the first crewman you saw. “Hey, Justin,” you said, reading the name tag hanging from his coveralls. “Hill has me going on a mission, are any of the jets ready to go?” You plastered your face with the biggest smile you could muster, batting your eyes. Justin returned your smile, pointing you to the left.
You thanked him, making your way over to the jet. You performed all checks, (it wouldn’t do you any good to die before you reached the base), plugged in your destination coordinates, and took off. You may not make it out, but you’d sure as fuck go down swinging.
————————————————————
Steve made his way down the hall to your room, wanting to see you before he left. As he waited for you to answer his knock, he took a deep breath, holding it in, thinking about what he was going to tell you.
He knocked again, and again. After his third attempt, he opened your door, worried something had happened. As he looked around your room, calling your name, his eyes fell to the note you’d written before you left.
As he read your words, his heart dropped. He turned and ran out of your room, stopping at Bucky’s door. Panicked, he knocked incessantly until he answered.
“She’s gone,” Steve said, pushing your note into Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s eyes widened, turning to his friend. He nodded at Steve, no words needing to be exchanged. Both men ran down the hall, stopping to grab Clint and Sam. You already had a half hour head start, but he’d be damned if you didn’t come back with him.
————————————————————
You heard him before you saw him, feeling his anger roll off in waves. If steam could actually appear out of someone’s ears, you’d be scorched right now.
You heard him yell your name, running behind you, his shield flying past your head as he took out three Hydra agents rushing you. You kept running, not even stopping to spare a glance Steve’s way.
You heard him yell your name again, followed by a string of expletives, but you kept your focus ahead of you, your mission the only thing on your mind, your heart still hurting over the lie.
“Goddamnit, Asshat,” you yelled back, jumping over the bodies as they landed beside you, almost causing you to lose your balance and fall on your face. “I have this handled.” You stopped, seeing all of the enemies down, and turned to Steve. “Why the fuck are you even here?”
“Why the fuck am I here? Why are you here? What were you thinking, coming here alone?” Steve yelled, his anger and fear colliding at seeing you unharmed.
“I was thinking maybe I had finally found a decent man, and a new group of friends, only to be lied to by them all.” Tears of frustration ran down your cheeks, upsetting you even more. This was not the time for tears, but your emotions were overflowing.
Steve’s face fell, guilt etched in all of his features before his face turned stern once more. “We didn’t lie to you, we were protecting you, I WAS PROTECTING YOU!” Steve yelled, grabbing your arms, making you face him.
You looked up at him about to yell back when a movement caught your attention. Acting on instinct, you pushed Steve out of the way, the bullet that was meant for his head now residing in your right side under your ribs. “Fuck!” you screamed, falling to the ground trying to get some pressure on your wound.
You were losing blood fast, your super healing not yet kicking in, causing your blood pressure to start dropping, your eyesight starting to go dark. “Not again, damnit.”
Steve turned, seeing you go down, rushing to your side. He threw his shield hitting the shooter in the head before turning his attention back to you. “Fuck. I need a transport out now. She’s been shot.”
Steve gathered you into his arms, his anger fading for just a moment as he stared at your lifeless body. He’d never felt so helpless, nor had anyone ever taken a bullet for him. Damnit, where was Barton with the jet? He applied more pressure to your wound, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the aircraft landing near him.
Steve didn’t leave your side the entire flight back, his relief and worry turning to anger once again as you healed. You had regained consciousness, but didn’t open your eyes. You knew Steve was aware you were awake, his super soldier senses picking up the change in breathing and heart rate.
When the jet landed in the hangar, Clint, Sam, and Bucky deplaned, only after Steve had reassured the men that he would stay with you. You could feel the anger rolling off him as you stayed still, pretending you were still out.
“I know you’re awake,” he said tersely, dropping your hand as he stood up. You silently cursed, not remotely in the mood to deal with the drama about to unfold. You stood slowly, waiting for the yelling to begin as you became overly fascinated with a lint ball on the floor.
“What the fuck were you thinking? Again, you put your life in danger for no reason, not only going alone but jumping in front of a bullet? Do you have a death wish?”
“That’s an awfully angry way to say ‘Thank you for saving my life. Again’,” you retorted, still not looking at Steve, your own anger bubbling over.
“Why would I thank you for almost getting killed?” Steve screamed, no longer able to control himself. He knew this would scare you, maybe make you hate him, but he couldn’t stop. His mind replayed him holding your lifeless body on a loop, causing him a new level of fear he’d never felt before.
“THE GUN WAS AIMED AT YOUR HEAD, YOU FUCKING ASS!” you screamed back, finally finding your own strength, knowing you were just protecting him, same as he tried to do with you because you knew there was no longer you without him. He’d become a part of you, and no matter how hurt you were, you wouldn’t let him go.
Steve took a deep breath, watching you intensely. “Fuck it,” he said as he stepped forward, grabbing the back of your head as he pulled you in for a kiss. It was heavy, all teeth and tongue, words not enough to explain what either of you were feeling at this moment.
You pushed back, still angry, however as you looked into his eyes, his need and hunger written all over, you pulled him back in, kissing him harder and deeper as he wound his hand in your hair.
He pulled away, looking down at you, searching for permission, not wanting to push you before you were ready. What he found was you staring back, feral in stance and hunger. As he reached for you again, you slammed him against the wall, all but growling when you commanded him to stay. He let you take control, knowing your past, knowing this is what you needed and wanted.
You removed his uniform, tearing the top in the process as you grew impatient with the leather barrier. You dropped to your knees, his large cock in your face. You reached out, grasping the base firmly, stroking up and down his length, spreading his precum over the head down the shaft.
He moved to grab your hair, lifting his hips off the wall as he tried to push his cock even closer to your mouth. You pushed him back, pinning his hands by his hips, both firmly planted against the wall and once again commanded him to stay.
“Rogers, if you move one more time, you won’t get to cum,” you told him before sucking the spongy, angry tip of his cock into your mouth. You looked up as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper down your throat, gagging as you took all he gave you.
As he looked down, he couldn’t remember ever seeing something so fucking erotic and beautiful in his life. You continued to stare up at him, your tears mixing with your drool and precum, tasting every inch of this man.
“Fuck, damnit. I don’t think I’ll last much longer,” he said, his lust filled eyes barely showing a hint of his normal blue, pupils blown. You continued your assault, taking him even deeper, feeling it in your throat. He looked down, the sight of his dick bulging out of your throat too much. As you felt him start to cum, you doubled down, sucking and milking him as long as you could, until every last drop was swallowed.
You stood up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you finally allowed him to move, his eyes staring at you, waiting for you to give consent. You looked back, nodding your head almost imperceptibly, giving in to your body’s demands.
“My turn,” he said, picking you up, pulling your pants off, and throwing your back against the wall, your thighs around his head as he dove right in, eating your cunt as if he’d been starved. You barely had time to steady yourself on his shoulders, before you felt the first orgasm washing over you.
He continued his meal, his tongue working your clit over and over, catapulting you over the edge again, his tongue ruthless. You grabbed his hair as he pinned your legs, adding two fingers as he sent you over the edge a third time.
He licked, sucked, and drank every last bit of you, swearing he had never tasted anything as good as this, becoming an instant addict of you. When he’d had all you had to offer, he moved your legs down, wrapping them around his waist, stopping to remove your top and bra.
You both stared at each other, him waiting for permission, you finally admitting how you truly felt. He returned your gaze, stopping to kiss you deeply and sensually, trying to convey every ounce of his affection for you across his lips.
He pulled back, lining his cock with your entrance, waiting for you to say yes, to open yourself to him completely. You nodded your head and felt him slowly start to push in. You threw your head back against the wall, his face in your neck, both breathing heavily as he pushed in inch by agonizing inch.
“Please,” you whined, not sure what you were asking for. You felt him slide all the way in, both of you taking a minute to adjust. He slowly pulled out, his mouth sucking and licking every drop of sweat from your neck before sliding back in, his pace torture.
He started fucking you faster, each thrust forcing your back up the wall just a bit as he deepened his angle. Still pinned against the wall, all you could do was hold on as he tore you apart then put you right back together, fast and deep.
You felt his hand slide between your bodies, his fingers rubbing over you overly sensitive clit, moving faster and faster as he continued until you tipped over the edge, cumming again all over him.
“I have never seen a more beautiful sight than your face when you cum,” he said as he fucked you through your orgasm, your mind completely full of just him. You felt his thrusts start to stutter, his hips pounding an uneven pattern until he came, his cum running down your legs.
He leaned his head on your shoulder as you both panted, coming down together. He kissed you, slowly and deeply, still inside of you. He pulled away, leaning his forehead on yours for a moment before he lifted his head again, his eyes searching yours.
“I never want to hold your lifeless body again,” he said, explaining his reaction earlier, apologizing for losing his temper. “I haven’t been that scared in a long time, and the thought of losing you scared me more than I was ready to admit.”
“I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t consider your point of view.” You kissed him, pouring every ounce of affection you were feeling into it. “Please don’t hide things from me, especially missions. You may not want me to go, but this is who I am. From now on, it’s a decision we make together.”
He nodded, finally accepting you for exactly who you are, your fight and strength part of what drew him to you in the first place. You both stood still, your bodies still completely entwined, neither wanting to ruin the moment.
As he set you down and you went about getting dressed, you heard Stark on comms, telling you two if anything was broken or needed cleaning, it was coming out of your next paycheck. You laughed, walking hand in hand. You weren’t quite sure what you were walking towards, but you would do that together also.
#steve rogers#steve rogers angst#steve x reader#steve rogers x female reader#chris evans characters#marvel#steve rogers smut#Wizard the goat#Bucky x Doc
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