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quietlyimplode · 2 years

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(I’m going to preface this by saying, Natasha x Reader is not my preferred style of writing, (and I think I’ve read like 2) nor have I ever done it before, but I did have fun with it. You can all thank @vancityfire13 for it, and the randomised challenge prompts at the bottom)

Hard Luck

You’re born into bad luck, and you think that she might just know how that feels. Like attracts like and the draw is magnetic.

It’s only been a week but you recognise her bad days like she recognises yours, and although no words are spoken, you notice it in her subtle movements that aren’t all aligned.

You pull out a chair for her, and she doesn’t even notice; drawn into her own world that tells you the demons are in full force.

You wonder idly if, like you, when it gets bad it’s emotional flashbacks, or if the visceral feeling of trauma is backing her into a corner. She doesn’t eat but clutches the coffee you pass to her like it’s a lifeline.

You think perhaps it is.

You’d like to think that this is all by chance, that you’re stuck in this safe house together, that this trauma bonding is kismet, but you know it’s not.

It’s loss.

Clint’s been missing for a month, and Natasha is losing hope by the day.

You and Clint met in foster homes in your late teens, all damage done. He had a saviour complex and you didn’t care any more. There was more to life, he told you, than just making it through the day.

You didn’t quite believe him, but when you joined the army together, they kept you together and you became something like siblings; watching each other’s six.

Clint could hit anything, and they used that to their full advantage, you were ruthless, reckless and they called you brave. They didn’t know it was your lack of self preservation.

Shield came for you both, he accepted; you didn’t.

You freelanced, kept up with him in your own way, and when aliens ravaged New York, you were proud that you knew him.

When you met up together afterwards, you knew something was amiss. Natasha told you the full story, slowly, choosing her words carefully and kindly.

She explained that, at times, his lost look gave his eyes a blue lilt that was dangerous and mean. She didn’t say more on it, but you know it affected her more than she extrapolated on.

You gave her your number then, said that if she ever needed help, that you would come, she hadn’t used it, until now.

It’s been a particularly rough day.

Clint is alive. There’s a time stamped video, sent directly to Natasha, the warning clear, come alone or he dies.

She’s tried every avenue of tracing, and you’re impressed at her skills on the computer. You don’t suppose that it’s something that’s publicised, why would it?

She’s been on the cover of magazines, her body selling more copies than Steve Rogers ever could, who cares that she might have a brain behind all that sex appeal. You admire her though, as she sits at the computer and sorts through the meta data.

You’d watched the video over and over, taken stock of Clint’s bruised face, blinking Morse Code warning them off.

You both know it’s a trap.

You both don’t care.

You prepare for an assault, counting your guns, knives, grenades and making calls to freelancers you could say you trust, but that would be a lie.

Trust is a fleeting thing, perhaps only occurring in moments of time.

You trust Natasha today, but in a week, a month, a year, that may not be the case. They give some intel, and ask if you need help. You decline.

It’s personal, you explain, you can’t be the reason Clint dies.

You can’t be the reason your bad luck passes to Natasha.

She walks in on you with your head in your hands and you tell her you’re sorry, that your bad luck affects everyone, you never wanted it to touch Clint.

She laughs, humourlessly, and rebukes you.

Luck, she says, has rules; and those rules had never applied to her. You’re not sure what it means. You shrug and bid her goodnight. Tomorrow, you go to war.

There’s a reoccurring nightmare that plagues you.

Time won’t fly, in these moments, and you’re paralysed by it. You’re stuck in moments that take your breath away, and you wonder who you were before the trauma and the torture.

It’s coming again, you can feel it, the curse of bad luck. If there was an old self to get back to, you wonder if you would. You don’t know who you are without these curses.

Time ticks backwards as all you can do is breathe and count. The concern at the pit of your stomach is visceral. You want to cry and tell someone how you feel but it only comes out as shaky breaths.

You sit up at a noise, and notice Natasha at the door.

“I heard…” she starts, but you never will know what she heard, because she turns around and leaves. At least it makes the time start again and the rotation of your world begin anew.

Natasha is smart.

You know this, but you didn’t expect her to be this dangerous. The name the Black Widow should have tipped you off, the fact that she can hold her own with the other avengers, and Clint’s reverent descriptions of her and their missions should have been a give away.

In hindsight, you think you’re an idiot. Clint certainly tells you as such when he’s lucid enough to join words together.

You think your worry may have clouded your judgment of Natasha’s mission parameters and planning of the mission but you’d gone with it; knowing she was better placed to do so.

You split up and she draws their attention, taking out fully armed men with sharp shooting and skill.

You get Clint out, his legs giving out from underneath him, as you push him into the car.

Go, Natasha tells you, I’ll meet you at the safe house.

It’s a lie.

The earbud cuts out, and Clint’s bruised face looks dolefully at you as you attempt a smile and do what Natasha tells you.

He could be worse, you think, as you heave him into the bath, strip him down and set up an IV of fluids in one arm, and antibiotics in another.

Being in the bath is easier for the inevitable fluids that will come, vomit, blood, sweat and everything else that feels unmentionable.

Your military medical training allows you to assess him and patch up what you can. Time needs to do the rest. You’re torn between your concern for Natasha and your worry for Clint; so you’re stuck in limbo with doing nothing for either.

You watch, wait and panic silently, thinking you know exactly what she’s done.

Turns out Bad Luck is calculating and she’s bent the rules to make sure it applies to everyone around you.

It’s hours. Clint heaves breaths, and you think his broken ribs may have punctured a lung. So you fix that too, bandage what you can and drain everything else, and hope the antibiotics work miracles.

She’s still not back at midnight and even Clint, in his drugged state knows something is amiss. He sees you pacing, the furtive glances at the door, and the checking of your watch.

It’s almost 3am before he has the energy to tell you to go.

“She’s traded herself for me,” he states, and it’s obvious. She’s not coming back. It’s why it was so easy to get to Clint, and get back out again with no one following, they didn’t even care about the two of you.

You feel bile rise in your throat.

You thought you were self sacrificing but as it turns out, Natasha is one step ahead of you. You wish you’d thought of it first.

You give him pain pills, place water by his side and apologise. Making one more phone call, you leave your phone by his side and go.

You’re not going back without her, you vow as you commandeer a motorbike and race back to the compound.

You hope they’re idiots, she may have given herself freely but you know she’s got the ability to get out if she wanted.

The bike hits the highest speed, and you think that whilst you have no loyalty to Natasha, you owe her greatly for keeping Clint safe.

Someone who saved you so long ago, you need to save his someone too.

You feel protective over her and know this mistake is your fault.

Climbing in the way you left, you sneak in, quickly and quietly. The silencer on your gun still makes noise, and your revert to your throwing knives.

You’re possessed by the thought that if you’re plagued by bad luck, then the bad people who stole dignity and life from Clint and Natasha deserve it too.

It’s the least you can do.

You dole your bad luck out ruthlessly and as quickly as possible before reaching the same holding cells she found Clint in.

She’s lucky that these people are fucking idiots and didn’t even bother to move sites.

That they thought she’d come alone; or without the team.

Or, and the thought drops heavily on you, they thought no one would come back for her.

There’s a guard with a grin and blood on his shoes as you roundhouse him in the head, the kick stunning him, as you take your knife and hold it to his throat.

“Take me to her,” you tell him, your low growl dangerous. The second knife appears at his groin as he bucks away, and all of a sudden he’s compliant.

It makes for awkward movement but he leads the way down the hall where he opens the freezer container with a swipe pass and voice command.

She being held, arms above her head, by butcher hooks holding her the cuffs around her wrists and her toes barely touching the ground.

You slit his femoral artery and then his throat as you rush towards her to release her from the stress position.

Collapsing onto you, her skin is icy.

“Sorry,” she says ruefully, and you don’t think it’s because she’s leaning her weight into you.

“What do you know of the Red Room?” Clint asks, handing you a drink. He had wanted to know your opinion and you hadn’t seen each other in months.

He’d said something about a mission and mandatory supervision but his haunted look as you’d entered through the door had made you stop short and joke.

“Who died?” You’d asked insensitively.

He’d explained about going after The Black Widow, someone who had been on shield’s radar for a long time.

With his head bowed he’d told you that she was a victim of circumstance and that he couldn’t kill her. You hadn’t realised that Shield had made him into their killing boy, but his prowess with a bullseye had made it unsurprising.

You’d shrugged at his question. You didn’t really know anything about the Red Room except they built assassins from the ground up.

“They take girls,” he explains, “off the street, from their parents if they owe money, if they see potential in them, and they train them. They break them down and build them up into good little soldiers.”

You nod slowly.

There’s a misplaced feeling in your chest, that may just be jealousy. You know it shouldn’t be there; because who’s jealous of children taken from their families?

Except, you do, you wish that had been you. He misses the look because you guard it well, and you don’t even flinch when he tells you of their ceremonies and ways of culling girls down to twenty eight graduated students.

To you, it doesn’t sound like the worst thing, and you don’t know what that says about you as a person.

The haunted look stays with him, as he looks to you.

“I couldn’t kill her,” he admits, “but I’m not sure I’ve done the right thing in bringing her to shield.”

You wish you could say that you had a part in convincing Clint that it was the right thing to do, but you hadn’t.

You’d just listened to his words and nodded, gave sage advice that didn’t really mean anything but seemed to help in the moment.

You wonder now, if it was veiled plea for help, whether he was actually asking if Natasha could stay with you.

You wonder if you’d known that then, if his words hadn’t been lost in translation, how differently life would have turned out.

As you hold on tight to her cold body, you know with all your heart that he’d done the right thing in saving her.

The compound explodes and the heat washes over both of you. You take a small amount of pleasure from destroying the place that has hurt your friends, as you turn your attention back to the one in front of you.

She’s not as bad as Clint, physically at least. Cuts and bruises that you can see, but definitely not life threatening.

Natasha mutters something, and you catch the end of it, as her eyes grow wide at the fire. Perhaps they had been more brutal with her mind more than anything.

She seems to recognise you but it’s fleeting and drugged in a way that you don’t understand just yet. You wish you hadn’t taken a bike, because as you heave her legs either side and sit in front of her she slides.

She makes you do the one thing you were putting off, and the one thing that’s become necessary.

Adrenaline.

Sliding it into her arm, it’s instantaneous and volatile.

“Look at me,” you command, and bruised eyes stare straight through you as you can almost hear her heart strain. You wish you knew what else they gave her.

“Hold on,” you speak. She understands and does as you say.

She hasn’t left Clint’s side and you haven’t left hers.

His face is one relief as he notices you both by his side, and whispers both your names. Natasha clutches his hand, bowing over it as she speaks words that are foreign to your ears.

It sounds vaguely like prayer but as you get closer you hear the cadence and familiarity of poetry. Clint seems to know what she’s saying and he finishes the stanza; you make a note to google it later, curiosity tugging at you.

Standing at the doorway and watching the exchange, a thrum runs through you that feels oddly like happiness. You’re not sure what to do with it, so you pull up a chair and wait.

Clint is stable, you suspect she is not. She hides it well in front of Clint though.

You offer to patch her cuts and she accepts, eyes still on Clint as he nods assuringly, unspoken words drifting between them.

The butterfly strips close the cuts on her face and you ask if she has anything else she needs. She can’t seem to stop the tremors passing through her as she shakes her head in a lie.

Clint passes out first. Natasha looks like she’s hanging on by a thread as you suggest bed, holding out your hand.

It feels strange to be putting someone into bed when it’s daylight but it’s what you end up doing, offering her water and promising to wake her if anything changes.

You check both your friends and notice that neither look like killers, their stillness - it reminded you of innocence.

Sipping coffee, you watch them both carefully, fatigue hitting you strangely, and force of will keeping you conscious.

You’re glad though, because it means you’re awake for when Natasha’s nightmares hit.

You try and stop her arms flailing by catching her arms, but it’s the wrong move. She punches you straight in the face as you reel back, you should know better.

Your nightmares are similar and it’s only been in a panic that you’d done the wrong thing.

“Natasha,” you try, voice clear.

“Natasha, listen to my voice,” you stop, thinking what to say next as her eyes open, but don’t orient to you, still lost in whatever dream her mind had chosen.

“You’re safe, you’re with me and Clint,” and it’s as though Clint knows because he appears at the door behind you, making his presence known as he gently lays a hand on your shoulder.

“Natasha,” he tries, the soft rumble of his voice draws both of you to look at him.

She bites down heavily of her lip as she sits up; the movement perhaps disorienting as she gags and then vomits down her front.

She hacks a cough, her body shaking in what almost looks like a seizure; and puts a hand to her mouth as you leave to get a bowl and a cloth.

Clint sits on the bed, his movements slow and tentative as he doesn’t shy away from her gagging again, as you arrive back just in time to catch more vomit as you squat in front of her. Clint places a hand on her back.

Firm movements (for you anyway), are far more grounding than someone rubbing your back, and it seems that way for her too.

You lift her chin and wipe her face, the glazed look and hooded eyes, tell you that she’s still not wholly present but not in whatever dreamscape she left. You worry about whatever drugs they used as you wipe away the bile that’s on her front and then hand the cloth to Clint.

Taking the bowl away and emptying it into the toilet; you wash your hands and avoid looking at yourself in the mirror.

He’s laying her back down, his voice repeating the same words over and over, and you know by the way she sinks into him, they’ve practiced this before.

He lays down with her as you take your perch on the chair, eyes heavy, as you all fall back asleep together.

You all know you need to part ways.

It’s been just over 48 hours since the rescue, and you’ve been called on another job.

They’ve got each other and you know they’re both in good hands. You think this should be more awkward that what it is but it’s not.

“We’re a good team, you know?” Clint says, and you smile.

You do know.

You don’t want to admit it because in this moment you feel lucky.

They’re both going to be ok, live another day and anything you do might jinx it. Who are you to be blessed with friends like this?

People that understand you, despite your flaws. You need to leave because you want to hold onto this luck.

Natasha stands at the door, leaning on it heavily and looking solemn as she bites her lip then recites the digits of your phone number.

You nod, holding back emotion as Clint grabs your hand and squeezes in a series of dashes and dots. You know what he’s saying, and you nod to them both, exiting through the back door.

As you take the motorbike and ride away, you know that even though you’re born into bad luck, it’s like waves that don’t dominate your life; not all the time anyway.

There’s good in there too. Your friends. Your own bravery survival. Natasha might just be right, luck has it’s own rules, applying them differently to everyone.

And if the events of this last month has shown you anything, you’re not powerless in affecting it.

Prompts:

(A quote from this list by @sadprosed )

1/ Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again

But I'm still trying to find it

2/ it reminds you of innocence.

From this list by @50-item-writing-prompts

Pulling a chair out for them to sit down at the table.

From this list:

“We’re a good team, you know. “

(All my other fic)

#my fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #hawkeye #reader insert #black widow x reader #prompt games #natasha romanoff imagine #Clint barton x reader

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avengerscompound · 3 years

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The Surrogate - Epilogue

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 850

Rating: E

Warnings: Post labor

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people. When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want. Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Epilogue

When you’d had a chance to shower and eat and attempt to feed the new baby you were taken to a room to recuperate. You’d been advised to sleep because the baby would likely sleep for most of a day and then you’d never really get a night of good sleep again until she moved out. The problem was now that your powers had kicked back in, you were anything but tired. You’d been in bed for weeks now and you wanted to do things.

Natasha and Clint only had eyes for their daughter though. Not that you could blame them, this had been a journey that had taken a long time to get to and you were happy that they were soaking up that feeling of getting everything they thought they couldn’t get.

Kate popped her head in, evading the medical staff to come and check on everyone. “Hey. You guys are awake.”

“Yeah,” Clint said, without looking up. He was cradling the sleeping infant and staring down at her with the purest expression of love. “I’m exhausted but there are certain individuals who can’t seem to settle down after a full day of labor apparently.”

Kate crept in. “Can I see her?”

“Of course,” Natasha said. “You’re always welcome.”

Kate took a seat beside Clint and he carefully put the baby into her arms. “What’s her name?” Kate asked. She looked slightly awkward holding the baby. Like a little kid being asked to hold her sister.

“Oh…” Clint said. “We never really agreed on one.”

“It’s Katie,” Natasha said.

Everyone’s eyes snapped to Natasha and Kate’s mouth dropped open. “What…?”

“Really, Nat?” Clint asked.

Natasha smiled. “It has to be. If it wasn’t for you, Kate, Katie wouldn’t have her dad. Of course, we’re going to name her after you.”

“Wow,” Kate said. “And I was just joking when I suggested Kate.”

“You don’t mind do you?” Natasha asked.

“Mind?” Kate asked. “I’m honored.” She looked down at Katie in her arms. “Hey Katie, I’m gonna be your cool aunt that you can tell anything to.”

Clint got up and stretched. “Babe, I know you’re not tired, but they gave us a room with a huge ass bed so that we could stay with you and I’ve been through some shit.”

“Clint, don’t swear in front of the baby,” you teased.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

“We can try and sleep,” you said. “When Kate is done meeting her namesake.”

Kate held out Katie to Natasha. “That’s okay. Just wanted to make sure everyone was okay,” she said. Natasha took the baby from her arms. “It was all very dramatic.”

“Wouldn’t be our baby without a dramatic entry,” Natasha said.

Kate grinned and got up. “Get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow with flowers, and candy, and a huge pile of Hawkeye baby clothes. With a name like Katie Barton, she’s definitely going to be the next Hawkeye.”

“See you tomorrow, Katie Kate,” Clint said, as Kate left the room.

He flopped down into the bed and dragged you down into his arms. “Give me some more of those sweet kisses. I have a bunch of bruises.”

“Okay, but then you have to tell us what happened,” you said.

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you slowly and deeply. The spark passed between you both and you hummed softly as he healed a little more. Natasha climbed in behind you and cuddled up to Clint. He pulled back from you and rolled on to his back, guiding Natasha up into a soft kiss. “God, I missed you guys,” he sighed as she pulled back. She put her head on his chest and held onto him like she was worried he’d disappear again. “I can’t believe I nearly missed Katie being born.”

“But you didn’t,” Natasha said.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” he said. “It was stupid really. Complete rookie move. Steve had me up on the roof, but it had a huge blindspot. They came in from there. Cornered me. I don’t really know why they kept me for so long. They’d ask me stuff and I’d play dumb. Sometimes they gave me a beatdown. Then Katie came.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” you said. “Not only because we finally discovered my only weakness is worrying myself sick about you when I’m nine months pregnant.”

“I’m back now,” Clint said and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “But I am really tired.”

“Get some sleep,” you said. “When Katie wakes you up, it’s all going to be different. You’re a dad.”

“Mm… and you’re both moms,” Clint said with a smile.

“Finally,” Natasha joked. “This is the kind of different I’ve been waiting my whole life for.”

Clint hummed and took out his hearing aids, setting them on the bedside table. You and Natasha cuddled up against him, linking your fingers over his chest. It had been a long, long road here, for them more than you. Here you were though. A mother, and a girlfriend, and happy, ready to start this new chapter in your lives.

~ END ~

(Katie existing was what inspired this fic in the first place and then a few weeks ago Marvel including this pic of Clint, Nat, and Katie in a Captain Marvel comic and it felt very wrong not to include it here)

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clintasha #clintasha x reader #black widow #hawkeye #black widow fanfic #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #the surrogate

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somebridgesburn · 4 years

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the moral of the story (it is cruel my dear)

So I wrote a fic and finished it, I don’t know who I am anymore. Jokes aside though, this might not only be the longest but also my favourite fic I’ve ever written. Also, I should probably have edited it properly but I was way too excited not to share it, so yeah.

warnings: angst, full on angst that I hope will rip your heart out (what else do you expect from me), also slight smut, language (and badly written dialogues)

7,137 words (yeah I don’t know how that happened either)

summary: How comforting it is, Steve thinks, that there are 14 million universes out there. How comforting it is to know that there must be a universe where he gets to love you.

He closes his eyes and lets his knees give in.

(there´s a lot of things Steve Rogers wishes he would have done differently)

How comforting it is, Steve thinks, that there are 14 million universes out there. How comforting it is to know that there must be a universe where he gets to love you.

He closes his eyes and lets his knees give in.

Life is easy at the Tower.

Steve wakes up at 5am sharp every morning and drinks two protein shakes before going on a run. He showers in a shower that is almost as big as his and Bucky's whole bathroom back in Brooklyn used to be. He ignores Tony's snarky remarks and pretends to understand Clint's pop culture references. He storms Hydra bases with his new team. He doesn't flinch anymore when Natasha appears out of nowhere.

Life is good. It's not the way it used be; with Bucky and the Commandos and their dirty jokes and laughter around camp fires all over Europe, but it's not his apartment in DC anymore either, with its walls that always seemed to be caving in on him, or doing Hydra's dirty work. Steve can work with that.

You're young, that's the first thing he notices about you.

Tony recruits you on a whim and before Steve even looks twice, you've moved into the Tower and you go on missions and you attend team game nights.

See, usually Steve would be mad, except that he can't be when he sees you; sees you fight, sees you with the team. Truth is, you fit right in.

You get all excited discussing science stuff with Bruce over dinner, measure your biceps against Thor's when he pays you one of his random visits, making his laugh thunder down the halls of the Tower, meal prep (whatever the fuck that is) with Natasha on Saturdays and Wednesdays; you're part of the team before Steve can even say you're not, and honestly, he can't even be mad about it.

Steve likes you. Until he doesn't.

***

See, you're nice, you're charming, everybody likes you, Steve likes you. You don't always follow orders and you have butted heads with a couple congress men before but that's okay. It's not good, but it's okay; Steve can work with that.

What he can't work with, however, is half-truths.

It all starts with a routine mission.

Storm Hydra base, get intel, blow it up; it's easy enough. You and Steve take the west wing, knocking out Hydra agents on your way down. Steve kicks one of the agents in the gut, tries to pry the arms of the other one off his throat, when he calls out for you for backup.

You don't answer.

He finally escapes out of the agent's choke hold and knocks him out, panting heavily, eyes scanning the room for you. You were on the other side of the room just a minute ago, but now you hover over another Hydra agent and you- you don't do anything. You look at him, gun hanging loosely by your side, as he says something to you, urgently, thoroughly.

Steve calls out your name again. You startle, as if pulled out of a daze and put a bullet through the agent's head. Steve furrows his brows, shooting you a questioning look. You look away.

“What was that”, he asks you, as you board the quinjet. You've been carefully avoiding him for the rest of the mission.

“What?”, you ask, looking up at him, slightly limping.

“You know exactly what I mean” His voice is harsh, your eyes widen, but these are the facts: He saw you hesitate. Those few seconds could have cost somebody's life.

“I don't think I do, Captain.”

“You hesitated!”, he grits out, “You hesitated taking out a hostile!”

“I- I was just out of it for a second, Cap”, you shrug, smiling a little and Steve doesn't believe a word you say.

“Don't lie to me”

“I-”

“Hey, hey, hey, what's going on?”, Tony interrupts you. He's looking between you and him, eyes furrowed.

You've gathered the attention of the whole team now, Natasha looking up from bandaging Clint's side, Bruce watching you from the cockpit, Thor awkwardly wringing his hands together.

“Oh, I don't know, I'm just wondering if she's compromised!” He gestures at you. Steve's irritated, angry even and his arm hurts where he got shot because you didn't cover him.

“What?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hey, hey! Calm down everybody!”, Natasha barks, ”Steve?”

“She hesitated- she froze. A Hydra agent was talking to her and she listened! I could've-”

“She froze?”, Tony asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes.”, Steve says, tightening his jaw. You stare at the ground. He knows there's more to it.

“Well, happens to the best of us! No need to be a pussy about it, Capsicle”, Tony snaps and wraps an arm around you, telling you to sit down so he could examine you leg.

***

So, you used to be Hydra. Kind of, at least.

After the mission you sit down in the common room - the common room, not the conference room – and you have a pillow in your lap and offer cookies you baked yesterday as if you were going to have a girls night and talk about ex-boyfriends.

Clint is sprawled on the coach and pushing his feet in Natasha's lap, while she pushes them back down again. Steve balls his fists and raises his eyebrows at you. You take a deep breath; and then you spill.

You used to work as a scientist for an institution, completely oblivious to the fact that it was knees deep in business with Hydra. Then you found files, files about Hydra, files about your work being used by Hydra. You panicked. You didn't know any better and you panicked and you wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, so you quit.

“I was stupid”, you sigh, “I knew too much, probably even without having found the files. They took me before I could even leave the building.”

They know the rest, seeing as it actually is in your file. You were used as a test subject by Hydra, causing you to develop your powers. Months into your captivity you were rescued by another handler that wasn't better by much; there are aren't a lot of pretty things in you file.

Then Tony found you in Berlin, battered and bruised. It's a sob story, really.

“Why didn't you say something?” Steve's the first to break the silence after you finished.

“I didn't want to talk about it”, you say, stirring your tea with a spoon, not even looking up.

“You didn't want to talk about it? That's it? That's why you lied to all of us?”

“I didn't lie”

“You said you- ”

“I didn't say anything, you assumed” You press your lips together. You're angry now, too, Steve realises. “also, Fury knew.”

It's not a big deal to Natasha because she knows, because Steve probably doesn't want to know about all of the half-truths and lies she serves them on a regular basis, it's not a big deal to Tony because Tony loves you, Tony put his eyes on you and basically adopted you and it's not like anything bad happened, Cap and it's not a big deal to anyone else either because apparently all you have to do is laugh a little and bake a couple cookies and it's all forget, forgive.

Well, guess what. It's a big fucking deal to Steve.

Maybe he's over-reacting. He knows better than to assume that what stands in Natasha's file is always accurate and he's pretty sure there's more to Clint than he knows, too.

But still, there's more to it. Steve knows there's more and you're still not telling everything. And he doesn't know you long enough to trust you despite of it- or maybe he doesn't want to in the first place.

You're everywhere.

The following days Steve tries to avoid you, tries to be civil about it in the most middleschool-ish way he knows because he might just yell at you again when he sees your face and he's trying not to do that.

But you make it damn hard not to.

You're sparring with Natasha when Steve wanted to and you're cooking breakfast when Steve wanted to make himself eggs and then he's done because Sam cancels their morning run on Thursday; Sam can't go on a run with him because he wants to go running with you because he's concerned after hearing your sob story and wants to make sure you're alright.

Maybe it's not even just about that one mission – maybe it's also about how you just made yourself part of the team, how you invaded every part of their lives from to without asking and now you can't even be trusted, now you endanger missions, now Steve has to write longer mission reports because of your goddamn recklessness (“as if you're the one to talk, Rogers-”).

There's nothing about you that doesn't annoy Steve anymore.

He doesn't think you're adorable. He doesn't think you're funny. You're too sarcastic and too much of a know-it-all and Steve doesn't even get half of your jokes.

It's different now. Team dinner are tense because you either had a fight before or he is pissed at you for making Natasha smile that much. Briefings are tense, missions are tense, everything is tense once you and Steve are in the same room.

He knows he should feel sorry for it, feel sorry at least for everyone else, but he doesn't. You roll your eyes at him when he asks for the salt.

***

He wishes he could say it happened differently.

If he were a better man, if he were the man everyone thinks he is, maybe he could. But he isn´t, so the first time he kisses you is the first time you fuck, and the first time you fuck is against a wall and it hasn´t anything to do with love or feeling and everything with the fight you just had. It´s fast and rough an it´s dirty and in hindsight, he hates himself a little for it, for not giving you what you deserve, for ruining it from the start (it probably was already ruined way before that).

***

So you fuck now.

Not routinely, not exclusively, but you do. Who would have thought, huh.

It's mostly just getting rid of boiled up frustration, blowing off steam after a mission or a fight or, most of them time, both.

You're more civil with each other now at least, too. You still snap, you still argue, but not to a degree where it's uncomfortable for anyone to be around the two of you.

You're still annoying but there are other ways your mouth actually can be useful, Steve found out and he's okay with that.

***

“You knew him”, Steve says as he's kissing down your neck.

“What?”, your voice is breathy and he knows you're not really paying attention. It's low, using sex to get information out of you but he had to, he saw an opportunity and he had to take it.

“The Hydra agent. At the warehouse. You hesitated, you knew him.” He's still trailing kisses down your body, travelling lower and lower but you stiffen underneath him.

“Steve, stop”, you say, pushing at his shoulders, “what the fuck?”

He stops at your belly button, looking up when he says, “what, you used to fuck him?”

You freeze.

“Fuck”, Steve hisses, jumping from the bed, before you can open your mouth, trying to deny it. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He hadn't meant it as a serious question, hadn't even considered it as a possibility. He din't even know what had gotten into him, it was supposed to be just another insult, irritating you.

“Rogers”, your voice is quiet and cold, eyes calculating as you watch him pace. You're still naked from the waist up.

He's been looking for a reason to mistrust, to dislike you for so long now but he didn't want to find one, he realises now.

“I didn't-”, he starts, running his fingers through his hair, “fuck!”, he yells again.

You don't say anything. The door slips shut too quietly after him.

You find him in the kitchen. It's just past 3am when he hears your light footsteps on the hardwood floor. He doesn't look up, only hears you sit down on the kitchen aisle, one seat between you.

“He was a co-worker. We started going out three weeks after I started working there. I liked him, I really did.”

“I thought liked me, too, you know, I though it was really something. But turns out he was just keeping tabs on me the whole time.”, you add quietly. Your voice doesn't quiver but Steve can hear the heartbreak, the betrayal netherless.

“It sucked, making all of these friends, trusting all of these people only for it to turn out they'd solely been using me the whole time.”, you sigh, “What I want to say though- I know you're going to tell everybody and you got every reason to. You're not going to trust me at all anymore and I understand it, I do, but I just- it doesn't change anything. This team, it- My loyalty is with you.”

“Does Fury know?”, he asks, finally speaking up.

“I don't know”, you shrug, “probably”

You both sit in silence for a long while after that.

As it turns out, Fury does indeed know.

Steve steps out of the elevator, just having come back from his office and he sees you pouring a cup of coffee, laughing with Bruce at Clint's antics.

Fury knows, Steve figures. The team doesn't have to.

***

“Fuck”, Steve swears and the corners of your mouth curl upwards.

“This isn't funny”, he spits out, pressing your hips further into the desk.

“Sure it isn't, Captain.” Lazy smile still forming on your lips

“Stop it. Stop pretending everything is a joke to you!”

“I'm not.”

“You endangered the mission. Do you even know what that means? What could have happened?” He rips off your blouse, ignores you snarling when buttons spring off, and discards it on the floor.

“I didn't. Endanger the mission.”

He huffs, unbelieving and turns you around, hands tracing over your ass, grabs a handful when you start speaking again.

“I- uh- would have gotten the job done either way.”, you say between breaths, hips rocking into his.

“Yeah, but you could have gotten yourself killed”, he hisses.

“As if you care about that”

“Of course I care about that!”Steve grits out forcefully and freezes.

You use that moments to flip you around, Steve now presses to the edge of the desk.

“I care about my team”, he retorts lamely, when he finally recovers.

“Whatever you say, Captain”, you snort and push down his pants, stealing any further words out of his mouth.

***

You still haven't stopped. In the back of his mind, Steve knows you should. You shouldn't even have started this whole thing in the first place. But the thing with your co-worker, that should have put it to an end for good. It didn't though.

It took a few days for you to stop dancing around each other to go back to normal again, took a rather strong disagreement on tactics and Steve bending you over the conference table for you to go back to sarcastic comments and borderline hostility again.

But still, it changed something.

“I still don't get why you hate her, man”, Sam says, sipping his beer, after Steve snapped at you.

He catches himself before he can say me neither.

He thinks about what you said. About him caring about you. He thinks about it, a lot (too much).

Here's the conclusion he draws: it's strictly professional, of course.

If you die, he failed as a team leader. If something happened to you, the mission probably wouldn't be accomplished. If you got killed, it would add further conflict among the team, which is the last thing they need.

He finds himself looking for reasons to get angry at you so he can feel you smooth skin underneath his hands again.

He thinks about you, more often than not. Your hands, your hair, your lips, your laugh- he shakes his head, no.

He jerks off, determined not to go to you, determined to not think of you and still, still his mind wanders to your lips, your hands tracing his chest, the little sounds you make, the little smile on your face afterwards when you thought he wasn't looking – he spills into his hand.

“Fuck”, he says to an empty room.

Here's the ugly truth: you matter to Steve and he doesn't want you to.

And maybe the reasonable, sensible approach would be to stop whatever the two of you are doing; no more hate sex and spiteful comments.

It's what Sam, or anyone with some resemblance of common sense, really, would tell him to do but Steve can't bring himself to do it, can't bring himself to actually tell Sam about it either though because he's ashamed.

Instead he pushes you into a closet, manhandling you roughly, when you do something thoughtful for Wanda.

He wants to hold your hand and squeezes your thigh under the table instead.

You laugh against his lips when he stumbles over a box lying on his floor and Steve thinks IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

He kisses you frantically before the words can spill out of him.

(Captain America's healthy way of dealing with feelings 101)

“He was everything”, Steve says quietly and meets your eyes. You're close, too close. All things considered, you have been a lot closer and it shouldn't matter but this feels different.

This is different, with the two of you the only ones left in the kitchen, Bucky's files spread out on the table and Steve's heart on his sleeve. You're inches away and really, in comparison, it's nothing to freak out about, but now, you're looking at Steve, really looking and it's soft, tender, almost- loving.

It's so intimate that Steve feels like he has to ruin it with mean comment but you take his face in your hands and close the gap.

It's slow that night, for the first time, it's slow. You squeeze his hand when it finds yours.

***

You choose Tony and Steve doesn't know if he can blame you for it.

He knows that he wants to, but there's still enough righteousness in him left to remind him that there might be a lot of things Steve wishes to be to you, but there are only a few that he is actually is.

And then he thinks of Tony and your ever-ongoing banters, him nudging your shoulder playfully, all the times he's found the two of you sitting at the kitchen counter, each nursing a cup of coffee at ungodly hours, just having resurfaced from the lab. Steve wasn't the only one to spend nights with you in some way or another and somehow he can't help thinking that Tony and yours were much more precious.

He doesn't know a lot about your and Tony's relationship, never cared to ask, but he knows that you don't have any family left and Stark got you out of a really ugly situation; he sees the light teasing and easy smiles and fond-yet-exasperated looks shared between you (and everything else yours and Steve´s relationship lacks).

Tony's like a father to you, and nothing that Steve is could ever come close to that.

Of course you'd choose Tony and Steve has no right to be mad about it.

If it were for anyone else picking Stark's side, it'd be no problem. Steve´s put all of them in this position, Steve understands, doesn't blame them, doesn't take it personal.

But with you, it stings. It stings more than he's ever willing to admit.

***

Being on the run changed him. He can see it in the mirror, his hair and beard longer now than they've ever been, he can feel it when they are storming Hydra bases and he strangles a man with his bare hands without batting an eye and he can see it in Natasha's eyes when he meets her gaze afterwards.

He´s vicious and ruthless and angry. Steve is so angry it burns in his bones and ignites the pit of his stomach and there is not a number of Hydra members he can kill or hours of sparring he can spend with Natasha that are ever going to ease that feeling. He´s angry at the government, at Tony, at Hydra, at Zola for doing this to Bucky, at a god he stopped believing somewhere between when everything he fought for, died for turned out to be a lie and aliens started to fall out of the sky, at everything, at anyone (at you, at you, at you).

***

He sees you again in Stockholm and for a moment he panics.

It's a small bar and you spot him immediately, beard and ballcap be damned. You haven't been looking for him though, he can tell by the look of surprise swiftly crossing your features.

“Here to arrest me?”, he jokes without humour when you take a seat at the bar next to him.

“No”, you answer, completely serious, “I won't”

Because you could. You could call someone right now and in a matter of hours they'd be behind bars. Or you could give them a head start and tell on them when you were back in New York.

Hell, you probably should, God knows what trouble you could get into if someone found out you'd let him go.

But you won't, Steve knows you won't.

You're starring at him, but Steve knows he's no better himself. Your hair's a little shorter now and you look tired.

“What are you doing here?”, he asks, only to break the silence, to force himself to stop starring.

You smile. You can't tell him and he knows.

When your hand finds his, he laces your fingers together before he can top himself.

“I miss you”, you whisper so quietly Steve would have missed it if it weren't for his enhanced hearing.

You brush your thumb over the back of his hand before he feels your hand slip out of his. You're gone a moment later.

“You know it's okay if you need a weekend away”, Natasha suddenly says from behind him. He didn't hear her coming and honestly, he hasn't had it in him to be surprised by that for a long time now.

A weekend away. He knows what she's implying and he almost smirks because for once, Natasha is wrong. Still, he allows himself to think about it for a moment, you and him, hauled up in a hotel room somewhere in Spain. Wanda has hers in Scottland, Natasha has her in Iowa. He could have his with you. He can't though, he can't.

“How do you know?” No one knows. They've always kept quiet, but really, he shouldn't be surprised, it's Natasha.

She snorts, and takes another gulp of his whiskey, obviously not planning on answering. When she looks up again her smile turns wry, and maybe a little sad, “your eyes, Rogers, your eyes.”

“It's- we're not- we've never been-” he says, sighs and honestly, what surprises him even more is that Natasha seems to be surprised at that.

“Oh”, she says, and after a moment, “you're angry at her.”

“Yeah”, Steve sighs, and he feels every single one of his hundred years on this earth, “Guess I'm never not”

Natasha breaths out through her nose and it's silent for a moment.

“Yeah, I get that”

The words are so quiet he almost doesn't hear them. He doesn't understand for a moment but then he thinks of Peggy's funeral and the bitterness in Natasha's voice, says he's retired, and of the hotel room in Vienna and the cracks in the screen of her phone after she threw it against a wall, says he's taking the house arrest.

He reaches over, squeezing her hand and Natasha looks up to the ceiling.

***

You meet again in Wakanda.

“Steve”, you say, nodding your head. Your hair is shorter now, not even reaching your shoulders and Steve, Steve has images, memories in his head of your hair falling around your face when you sat on top of him, leaning down to kiss his chest, your hair tangles in his fingers, your hair-

He says your name in return and he hates how it sounds a little to breathy, a little too low and most of all he hates how he knows that you know.

You fuck again that night.

Maybe it isn't the rational, the right decision to make, but the world is ending and you show up at his door in the middle of the night, hair tangled and just as unable to find sleep as him and Steve would be lying if he says that he hasn´t missed you like a starving man.

The first time is for getting it out of your system. Hands reaching, clinging, grabbing, desperate, so, so desperate, and fast and angry and almost violent. So many years missed, spent thinking, longing for this, for you.

The second time is for holding on.

It's desperate in different way. Soft and clinging, refusing to let go, refusing to let this be the end.

End of the world sex, Steve thinks and he almost wants to laugh at that except there isn't anything to laugh at left.

“What's up”, he asks, half propped up on his elbow, staring openly at your naked form, sitting on the edge of the bed. Your head is buried in your hands and your back is turned towards him and you are so, so beautiful.

You lift your head up at his question and look at him for a long time with a look in your eyes Steve doesn't recognize. You kiss him then.

The third time is for saying goodbye.

It's slow and feverish until it's fast and soft. You kiss him, god, you kiss him and he can't get enough, he can't get enough, it will never be enough except this time, it has to be. This time might just be the last time he'll feel you shaking apart in his arms.

He remembers when he longed for something like this, something, anything, that would make him feel.

Back when he still felt so stuck in a time he didn´t belong, felt so stuck that he couldn´t breathe; back in his apartment in D.C. and with this job at SHIELD that wasn´t really anything but better than nothing and instant noodles for dinner.

Back when he had this life that wasn´t much of a life; but at least he still could believe that what he was doing what was right, at least he could still fill his days with dreams about Peggy, a matching gold band on her finger and Bucky living next door. A distant ache, bearable, at least, and just enough to make him feel something.

He looks at your sleeping form now, brows still furrowed in your sleep and he thinks his heart might just shut down. Now, Steve feels and he feels so much that he almost wishes it would just stop again.

Someone should have told Steve Rogers to be careful what he wished for.

***

Maybe it would have worked with the two of you, Steve remembers thinking, lying in that bed in Wakanda, your warm body pressed into his side.

If things wouldn't have turned out the way they did, if you hadn't hurt, hadn't damaged each other this much.

Maybe it would work now, he had thought, if you both made it out of here alive, maybe it would work then.

***

Half of earth´s population is gone and Steve Rogers has lost Bucky Barnes yet another time.

You are descending from the Quinjet, bruised and broken, all hope drained out of you.

You haven't looked each other in the eyes since it's all been done. The dust, your friends, are still stuck in your hair and Steve feels sick.

You are descending off the quinjet and there's a guy running towards you. Steve's confused for a moment but then he wraps you into a bruising hug. He pulls away a little, says something that makes you nod and slips his arm around your waist, gripping your hip in a way that Steve doesn't like.

“This is Jonathan”, you say and Steve feels like he is falling.

***

The four years are long.

At first he doesn't even try. Gives in to his grief, his self-pity, Natasha only puts a stop to it when he starts growing out his beard again.

They lost. He lost Bucky, he lost Sam, he lost Tony. He lost and half the universe died.

He lost you, too. Except that's the one thing Steve doesn't blame himself for, not when he can blame you, not when he can be angry at someone else.

Steve Rogers is a lot of things and he doesn´t like all of them, but he is not a cheater. He is honest and good, if flawed, but he is not a cheater and you made him one.

(He doesn't know how to forgive you for that)

(Most of all, it hurts that you took something, that night, that had been something so precious, almost sacred to Steve, to you, too, he had thought, and turned it into something dirty, something to regret)

He runs. He founds a self-help group. He moves into a place downtown because he can't look at Sam's old coffee cups every morning. He talks about Peggy because people want him to talk and Peggy's an old ache, painful but manageable, not the flaming white pain Steve feels when he thinks about anything else these days.

Natasha sometimes drops your name in conversations, saying something like “She and Jonathan broke up”, almost as if she was testing the waters, as if she was provoking him a little, gauging his reaction.

Truth is, he doesn´t know how to react. There are feelings over feelings in his chest when he hears your name and he doesn´t know what do with them.

***

You do not apologize.

Steve doesn´t see you for two years after the day on the platform (after you left with Jonathan, fucking Jonathan, who had his arm slung around your waist)

You are somewhere in Europe and he doesn't know what you are doing because the last time Natasha told him something about you, in that not-so-subtle-casually-dropping-your-name-way (She bought brown curtains last week as well and-).

And Steve really doesn't want to think about you or your stupid curtains that you probably hung up in your living room in a small house with an open kitchen and a front yard somewhere in fucking Europe, while Jonathan cooks you dinner.

The curtains in your old room were red.

You show up in April.

You are standing in the middle of the room, leaning against the table, arms crossed in front of your chest, casually conversing with Rhodey like you hadn't been gone for two years.

Steve can feel the anger in his chest rising just looking at you. You are wearing black boots and a blouse and your hair is pulled back neatly and you do not look like you've been depressed or sleep-deprived or affected in any way, of course.

You are living somewhere in France or Austria or the Netherlands with your boyfriend and two dogs and your fucking brown curtains (he knows you like cats more, he knows that you and Jonathan broke up, but still) and you are fine, while all of them are struggling, suffering, barely making it through the day, but still trying to hold everything upright.

You just upped and left without a single care in the world about, oh, you know, half of earth's deceased population, all of its consequences, the Avengers, all of the dead Avengers (about Steve).

Steve knows that maybe his isn't being entirely fair, but maybe he also doesn't give a single shit about fair and right at the moment. At the moment, he's just angry.

He's still standing in the door, watching you, ignoring Natasha's prying gaze burning through him.

You still haven't seen him yet.

(He wonders if you ever really will)

You do not apologize.

Not in the weeks to come, probably won't ever. You stay at the Compound, help Natasha out, try to settle in a new routine. You're back, just like that.

As if the world didn't end and you just left all of them without a second thought, as if you didn't use Steve, didn't cheat on someone with him, as if nothing had ever happened.

You're indifferent to him. You're polite but don't seek out conversation, you ignore his jabs and offer him dinner when he comes to do his laundry.

You're real mature about all of this and it pisses Steve off to no end because he's the mature one, he's the one who usually knows better.

It pisses him off because he's in pieces while you don't care.

It pisses him off because you hurt him, he let you in and you hurt him and now you pretend nothing ever happened.

Maybe you figured it didn't count, on the verge of death. Maybe you thought you'd die anyways so you wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath. Maybe you figured Steve would die and never find out.

Or maybe, maybe you just didn't think, like you always do, maybe you were just reckless for a moment and now Steve's paying for it (like he always does).

***

“I can't forgive you”, he whispers against your lips and you probably know that already because you don't react, don't flinch, don't answer, just pull him into an even harder kiss.

His words don't sting and he's starting to think maybe he wants them to.

Wants to hurt you, a little bit. Not physically, Steve isn't that low of a man, but maybe he wishes his words would sting, would hurt you, haunt you, like every syllable from your lips does with him.

(maybe he just wants to see that you care)

***

Perhaps he hates you, Steve thinks, while he is swivelling the drink in his hands, and he almost wants to laugh at the irony. You've come a full circle now, he's hated you, then he's loved you and now he hates you again (only that he hasn't stopped loving you either and he hasn't entirely worked out how that is supposed to be possible, how his heart is supposed to take that).

Someone else's hands are tracing over his chest, someone else's body is lying on his mattress, in his bed and he can almost feel you.

He hopes that you can hear him fucking another girl.

He imagines you lying on the other side of the wall, listening to her moans, his grunts, his name rolling off her lips, all breathy and high on pleasure.

He hopes there's anger and regret cursing through you, eating you up and the thought of it is enough for him to get it up. (No, he has no interest in exploring that thought further)

He says your name when he comes.

(And it hurts, it hurts that he still loves you despite it all)

***

He misses Bucky.

That's what the Snap did, he thinks bitterly, it took away half of the people he loved and made him hate the rest.

***

Steve looks at you smiling at Natasha, cutting up onions, half-heartedly trying to get back into meal prepping and he wants to say fuck you. He wants to scream it off the rooftops, in your face, in front of the whole team. Fuck you, he wants to say, fuck you for using him, for doing this to him and still claiming his heart. The words taste bitter when he swallows them down.

You are staring at the file lying on the table and he is staring at you.

You huff, shaking your head a little in frustration before you meet his eyes again and Steve wants to say kiss me, please, please, kiss him, kiss him so you can forget, kiss him so you can make everything alright again but he doesn't, he won't and the words are eating him up alive.

You are looking at the photos of Morgan Pepper sent and your lips in curve in a funny way and your eyes crinkle and Steve's not sure whether you're holding back tears or laughter and it's right there on the tip of his tongue, because most of all, most of all he wants to say I forgive you, you're not sorry but I still forgive you.

***

He's punishing you.

Except that you don't care and he's really just punishing himself.

***

“This needs to stop”, Natasha says three months after you moved back into the Compound.

He just snorts in return, not bothering to look up from the stack of papers in front of him.

“Steve”, he hears her sigh, feels her settle next to him on the couch, “you know this isn't helping anyone.”

“What? You're on her side now?”

“No, I'm on no one's side, Steve. I'm just saying the shit you're pulling right now is hurting you, the both of you.”

He thinks about your cold, neutral demeanour, you not looking at him

“It doesn't”, he retorts without missing a beat.

“It does”

“What do you even know about any of this”, he hisses, but then he thinks of all of the voice mails he's heard Natasha leave on Clint's phone late at night and he wishes he could take it back.

Natasha huffs, “Just... Just don't do something you'll regret”, she says in the end and Steve thinks it's much too late for that.

***

He finds you crying. Curled up on the gym floor, knuckles bleeding, sandbag ripped open.

You flinch away from his touch, finally meeting his eyes. Your eyes are watery, cheeks tear stained and Steve's has never seen you looking so vulnerable, so hurt (so beautiful).

Maybe he isn't the only one who is suffering after all.

He doesn't feel the satisfaction he thought he would upon that realisation.

“Are you content now?”, you snap, as if reading his thoughts.

Steve finds he can't bring himself to say yes, wonders what he is even doing all of this for then.

***

“You used me!”, he yells, his voice echoing off the empty walls.

“I didn't” You are not loud but there is so much venom in your voice that it silences Steve all the same, chest heaving, jaw clenched.

“I didn't”, you repeat, “but you are too full of yourself to ever stop for a moment and think that maybe you aren't right”

“Oh, enlighten me then! Enlighten me on how you could possibly be the victim here again!”

You open your mouth and he could scream at your self-rightousness after all of this you still can't admit that you fucked up.

“You know what, don't. Don't even try to talk yourself out of this, I don't even wanna hear it.”

Rhodey's phone rings, cutting through the deafening silence.

You are gone the next morning.

***

You're back together with Jonathan. He overheard phone calls and there's a sinking feeling in his chest he has no right to feel but it's okay because Steve has a lot of other neglected grief and emotions to deal with in an unhealthy manner first.

Natasha doesn't want to tell him anything this time around and it's probably for the better.

“You don't wanna do that to yourself again, Steve”, she sighs and starts cutting up sandwiches because Steve is way too old to have that big of a food-equals-happiness-reaction but he does and she's smart like that.

***

“I do not owe you anything”, you say out of the blue, as you stripe on your suit, “after all of this I really don't.”

Your hair is much shorter now, too short to pull it back.

Steve hasn't seen you since he yelled at you two years ago, didn't think he would ever again, but then time travel was a real thing and Tony gave him his shield back and you were leaning against the countertops, talking to Bruce.

You look tired. There are the faintest wrinkles around your eyes now and you are tired to your bones but you are doing this anyway.

He opens his mouth, snarky remark on his tongue, when you speak again.

“Jonathan was never really something before Wakanda.” You meet his eyes, almost as if challenging him and Steve can't think of a single thing to say.

All this time, all this missed time, spent hating you, when he could have just loved you.

He knows then that this, whatever this is between the two of you, is done. It should have been for a very long time now, but truth is, it never was.

Even when he hated you, hated you with all of his being, it was always you Steve Rogers imagined whispering dirty things in his ear. Even when he didn't want to, hated himself for it, would have denied it to his last breath, he loved you.

And god, he still does and maybe you do, too, but Steve knows in this very moment that you will never, ever want to again, not after all of the hurt he's caused you, not after he's crucified you for nothing for all of these years. He feels sick to his stomach, with the finality of it all.

It takes him a moment to regain his voice, it's hoarse and rough, when he speaks, “not really something?”

“I'm not saying I'm innocent – but I sure as hell didn't deserve all of that shit.”, you say, shrugging.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Would you have listened?”, you retort and he hates that he knows the answer.

“You could have tried harder”, he says then, voice still hoarse, because he's still not entirely done with not taking any of the blame.

You zip up the rest of your suit. You are going to travel in time. It doesn't sound right, no matter how many times you repeat it.

“Yeah”, you say, a strange look crossing your features and he knows you're not just talking about Jonathan anymore, “we both could have.”

***

“He loved you in every single one of them”, Strange says and Pepper smiles and Steve thinks he´d be content if he´d get just one of them, if he could just love you in this one.

***

Steve knows he´s too late when he starts running.

He watches you fall, blood splattering and he can feel the vomit coming up his throat. He can hear someone screaming and it takes him a moment to realise that it's him.

There's smoke everywhere, bodies everywhere and his lungs are burning, his feet stumbling, almost giving out from under him.

He's almost there, almost there and still not close enough, when your limp body hits the ground.

There's blood, so much blood and Steve is too late.

How comforting it is, Steve thinks, to know that there are 14 million universes out there. How comforting it is to know that there must be a universe where he gets to love you.

He closes his eyes and lets his knees give in.

(The moral of the story is that they loved and it didn´t matter)

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers reader insert #clintasha #writing #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #endgame #infinity war

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heamarvel · 4 years

Photo

Week 1 of Harlequin Hoopla is almost done! We’ve got a tasty summary in the works for you, too, so keep an eye out for that - we were really surprised to see which ships and prompts were most popular. Your creativity continues to blow us away!

Here’s the prompt list for the second week of Marvel Happily Ever After: Harlequin Hoopla challenge.

Do you want some fluff? How about some high school sweethearts, or a wing!fic? In the mood for angst? Accidental pregnancy and secret identities seem to fit the bill great, right? Prefer action-filled plot? We’ve got dragons, body swaps and Sentinel/Guide AUs for you! Then, after all this excitement, you might just wanna unwind with some crack - there’s always the wrong food order, and... Oh, no, there was only one bed. Whatever will they do?!

... And then, to cap off the week, there’s Valentine’s Day for all categories - so you can expect steamy smut and toothrotting romance and some suspense before we get to our Happily Ever After!

(Click here for juicy details like full prompt lists and their specific requirements!)

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forever-more-never-again · 5 years

Text

True Savior

Requested @mythixmagic

Word Count:6174

Pairing: Kid!Reader X Parent!Natasha X Parent!Clint X Twin!Sibling

Warnings: Swearing, alludes child abuse, angst

Request: Would you be willing to do an story to True Evil? Angsty as all hell, but in the end Clint and Natasha do save R?

a/n: This is not related to my fics named ‘True Evil’, and is it’s own unique fic. I hope you all enjoy it.

Masterlist

Verräter - Traitor

Maybe if your parents had actually shown their love, you wouldn’t be in the position you were in currently.

Staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Do it. Do it!” Your voice screeched. Your hands clenching and unclenching as they hung by your side. Your lips quirked up in a twisted smirk.

“You can’t. You’re too weak. Like father, like son.”

The person on the other side of the gun looked at you with pity and sorrow. Their upper lip quivered as you looked at eyes identical to your own.

“[Y/n]...please.” Your twin’s voice broke. The gun wavered and then fell to their side. Their finger moving off the trigger.

A mistake.

Without letting them take another breath, you leapt at them. Hands outstretched to grab their neck as you twisted your legs around their torso.

“Argh!” You screamed. All the years of pent up anger and humiliation and pain finally pouring through as you squeezed the life out of your twin’s body.

“[Y/n]! That’s enough!”

You turned, your hands resting just slight of killing your twin, their face turning bluer by the second. Standing on the roof edge was none other than Hawkeye, Clint Barton, the deaf archer...or as you used to know him by, Father.

“Hello Daddy!” You smiled, the fake happiness oozing like oily from your mouth.

His eyes squinted as he raised his knocked arrow, “Don’t make me do this. Please. I love you.”

You scoffed. Your twin wiggled under you, their eyes bulging. You knew they only had a minute at best left if you kept squeezing, “Is that so? So, riddle me this, if you love me, why did you never show it!?” You tightened your hands, causing your twin to make a choking sound, emphasizing just who you were talking about.

And then, you were thrown backwards.

“[Y/n]! Stop!”

Your fake smile returned as you quickly leapt back to your feet. “Mother! It’s a family reunion!”

Natasha glared at you from beside your twin, who was collapsed on the ground, drawing in huge gasps of air.

“You chose this route. But we want you to come back to us. We want to prove that we love you. We never stopped loving you. It’s not too late to change back to the true you.”

You broke. Doubled over in hysterical laughter. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Even to you, the laughter sounded unhinged.

“You want me to be the true me!? This is the true me!” You straightened up, all traces of laughter gone as you sneered at the three people who had betrayed you.

You opened your arms wide, the smoke and fire, the sound of bullets and screams rising up from the streets below the roof you all stood on.

“Hydra has shown me what I can be when I’m surrounded by those who trust and love me!”

Natasha and Clint took a cautious step towards you, “[Y/n]. You know Hydra is evil. They only fake those things so that they can get you to do what they want to. You know what they did to James. You’ve seen the horrors. You used to look forward to being a hero.”

Scoffing, you took a step backwards towards the edge of the roof. The sky a soft red as the sun began setting on the destroyed Italian City.

“I don’t care. They never forgot my birthday.” Your parents and twin winced. “And that’s just one of many things you forgot about me. So...Either you kill me, and forget about me entirely...or I kill you so that I can finally forget the family that betrayed me.”

You said those last sentences calmly, eyeing the three heroes.

Waiting...the air tense with the anticipation.

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

“Alex! Give him back!” You giggled as you ran after your twin, who was running away with your favorite stuffed rabbit.

“Only if you promise to train with me later!” Your twin yelled back over their shoulder with a laugh.

Putting on a burst of speed, you threw you ten year old self at your twin and tumbled on the floor together.

Both of you dissolved into giggles as you tried to untangle from each other.

“[Y/n]! What did I tell you about roughhousing outside of the gym?” Natasha walked into your bedroom with a disapproving frown on her face.

You immediately grew quite and curled up in on yourself. Noticing this, your twin stood up for you, “It was my fault Mom. I took Rabbit from [Y/n] and teased them.”

Your mother shook her head with a sigh, “I don’t want to hear excuses for them Alex. [Y/n] should know better. Especially if they want to join the Avengers some day.”

With that, she left the room.

Sitting next to you, your twin tried to cheer you up, “You’re going to be the best Avenger ever. Just wait.”

You sighed, shaking your head, your tiny hands picking at the seams of your rabbit, “Why even bother trying? Mother and Father always seem to find something wrong with me. And besides, what makes them think we can be Avengers? We don’t even know who our real parents are.”

Your twin grabbed your hands, stilling them, until you looked over at them, “They may not be our birth parents, but they are our real parents. They raised us, and even though they are harsh on you, I will never let you forget that I love you. Okay?”

You let out a wet laugh, “You goofball. I love you to. You’re my twin. You have to love me.” And you tackled them to the ground.

“Hahah! [Y/n]! Agh! Stop tickling me!”

You laughed along with them, “Never!”

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

Your arm raised to block the kick from Natasha before immediately dodging an arrow from Clint.

“I’ve gotten better! Faster! Stronger! Without you!” You yelled out triumphantly as you landed a punch to your twin’s face, knocking them back.

Sprinting across the roof, you stopped at the edge and turned, giving a jaunty wave to your family, before falling backwards off of it.

“[Y/n]!”

Your twin’s tortured scream echoed alongside the rushing wind in your ear as you fell.

And then stopped as you pushed a hidden button on your jacket sleeve that activated your jet boots, slowing your descent until you landed gracefully on the pavement.

Craning your neck, you looked up the fifty stories at your family, before running off into the city streets.

“Head back to base!” You ordered into your comms.

As you ran past the broken store windows, the burning cars, and the terrified Italian citizens, you couldn’t help the urge deep inside you that said this was wrong and that you needed to help the people hiding behind their stores.

Shaking your head, you growled at yourself. That was the past! You were stronger now! You didn’t need anyone's praise or thanks, you just needed to take what you wanted and show the word that they didn’t own you.

~~~~~~~~~~

“[Y/n]! Stand up straighter! Be more like Alex for once! Stop fooling around! Be serious!”

Your father’s words cycled on repeat in your head as you headed to the locker room after a grueling afternoon training session.

Slamming your locker shut, you heaved a deep breath, closing your eyes you pressed your forehead against the cool metal.

“Why!?” You whispered harshly at yourself. Why couldn’t they be proud of you for once?

A hand settled on your shoulder and you acted before thinking, taking the hand in yours, you turned and thrusted, putting the person on their back within a second.

“Woah. Sorry.”

You let go of the hand when you registered their face and voice, “Sorry Alex. You startled me.”

Your twin bounced up, dusting off their pants, a smile on their face, “You really got me. I should’ve been prepared. Oh, and good practice today. You are getting really good at target practice and that new Ballerina move mom was showing you. Surprising for such a puny twelve year old.” They teased, elbowing you.

Walking beside your twin down the hallway of the compound to your rooms, you didn’t return their smile or enthusiasm, “Didn’t you hear Father? I’m a complete failure.”

Your twin put out an arm, stopping you from walking further. They turned to you, concerned, “He doesn’t think that [Y/n]. Why would you say that?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. To show weakness. “You heard him yelling at me today. Add that with all the times they yell at me or I get in trouble for the tiniest thing, and it’s obvious that they don’t love me.”

You gulped, desperately shoving the rising grief down deep inside. You couldn’t look at your twin anymore, as their eyes shown with their own tears and sorrow...and worst of all, pity.

Twisting their arm out of your way, you walked on, “They love you, Alex. You’re their true child.” A whispered remark, thrown over your shoulder to where your twin stood, still, in the hall.

~~~~~

“Commandeer! The head would like a status report of yesterday’s events.” Your right hand man stood, with his fist on his heart, by the door to your office.

Rubbing your head, you waved at him to be at ease. “I’ll get to it. Is everything ready for tomorrow’s broadcast?”

Dimitri nodded, still standing at attention, “The super cables enhanced with Vibranium have been tested and are being loaded. You just need to decide on the distraction so that we can enter the New station in relative ease.”

You sighed, looking down at the papers that littered your desk. “Let’s go with the bank robber route, that’s the most likely to draw a crowd and the reporters.”

“Hail Hydra!” Dimitri shouted, and then he left, shutting the door behind him.

“Hair Hydra.” You whispered to yourself.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes for a moment.

After the mission yesterday, your sleep had been restless as memories of your childhood filtered through.

Laughing with Wanda and Pietro. Hanging off of Bucky’s metal arm, squealing for him to throw you. Having Steve take you jogging in Central Park on the weekends, and stopping for Ice cream at nine in the morning.

The happy times. None of which, had your parents in them.

And then there were the memories of your twin. Of holding their hands, huddling under the covers as a storm raged through the night. Making up a secret language to communicate during boring Avenger meetings that you were forced to sit in on. Teasing each other about random things.

Cracking your neck, you shook away the thoughts, you had made your choice years ago. And now, you had to see them through, or die trying.

Pulling up the encryption, you sent out a coded message to the head base, asking for a virtual call to report your mission.

A few minutes later and a grainy feed was up on your computer showing a grizzled face of a man hardened by war.

“Misha.” You nodded in respect at the man. The one who was in charge of your section.

The man spoke with a heavy german accent, the sound going in and out as the feed shook, “How was the Italian Terror?”

You pulled a stack of reports to you, glancing down quickly at them, “It went off without a hiccup-”

You got cut off as the man shook his head at you, a dangerous glint in his eyes, “You know [Y/n]...I never trusted the Head Council’s decision to let an Avenger in...even if they did say they wanted to help destroy them. So, I ask again, how was it?”

You swallowed hard. Even though you had worked for Hydra for years, and had quickly risen through the ranks, you knew better than to think that you were indispensable. You could be replaced, and your death could happen at any moment.

“There was a small delay with the original plan as Hawkeye, Black Widow and Peace.”

Misha smiled cruelly, “Aww a little reunion. Don’t think I have forgotten your codename...War.”

You gritted your teeth against his obvious attempt at getting a rouse out of you. Before you had left your family, you and your twin had chosen your codenames. War and Peace...after the book of the same name by Leo Tolstoy.

With you now gone and going by the code name, The Traitor, your twin’s codename made little sense.

“I made sure they did not interfere with the mission and kept them occupied while my men found the needed Vibranium. Our mission for tomorrow is a go.”

Misha shrugged, looking indifferent. The grainy static of your computer causing a headache to begin to form behind your eyes.

“No worries then. I shall be watching you, Verräter.” And he signed off.

Your computer going back to normal as the encryption worked to erase any evidence that you had talked to Misha at all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m done! I’m just done with trying to prove myself to them.” You crammed your clothes into the duffel bag you had out on your bed.

Alex, your twin, trying to stop your hands.

“[Y/n]. I know they were harsh today, but don’t do this! We’re finally avengers, just like we always dreamed of! You can’t...you really want to leave me?”

You froze, closing your eyes, but that didn’t stop the lone tear from falling from your lashes, carving a path of sorrow down your face.

“I’m so sorry Alex. But I can’t do it anymore. You were meant to be their child. I was just the extra that they never wanted.”

Your twin pulled you in for a hug, their tears flowing freely, they didn’t care that it looked weak in your eyes.

“You can’t leave me [Y/n].” Pulling back, they stared into your wide eyes, “If you leave, I leave.”

You shook your head frantically, pulling your hands from theirs, “No. Alex. You love it here, they love you. You need to stay.”

Your twin reached out a hand, but you stepped out of reach, “They never forgot your birthday,” They winced, hand lowering slowly, “They gave you presents for christmas, while I got a diet book or a weight loss class coupon.” Their eyes closed, tears streaming down their face, “They always praised you and gave you pie after training sessions while I got yelled at and forced to do the team’s laundry all night.” They sobbed, hands coming to cover the sound, “They spoke of you to the public, praising you when you took down that bank robber, while I stood in the shadows, blood dripping from the gunshot in my shoulder from tackling the goon so that you could tie him up.”

Your twin’s legs gave out, and they landed heavily on their knees, their back shaking with the force of their sobs. You kept your gaze straight ahead as you zipped your duffel bag and slung it over your shoulder.

As you walked past the huddled form of the one person you loved the most, you paused for a moment and whispered, “You were meant for greatness, to be the true savior of this city. I was meant to die at birth.”

And you walked out of the Avenger’s compound, never looking back. And within a few months, found yourself on Hydra’s doorstep on the path to a world of darkness and hatred.

~~~~~~~~

“Is it set up?” You asked the various men in combat suits as they typed on the large computers and monitors in front of you.

The whimpers of the few newsroom personnel as they sat gagged against the wall was the only sound beside the hum of the large machines.

“Got a signal boss. Give the word and this will be broadcasted worldwide.”

You nodded at the man who said that, “And the bank robbery?”

Another man spoke up, “They have gotten away clean and clear. Reporters are heading back here now.”

Another nod, “It’s time then. On my count.”

You walked to the set, standing before the large camera. A cowl over your face, your mouth the only thing visible.

“Three.”

Lights turned on.

“Two.”

A hum began building as the vibranium infused cables were connected.

“One.”

And you were broadcasting.

“Hello citizens of Earth.” You could see your face reflecting back to you on the various monitors, with your words being translated in multiple languages underneath in taglines.

“Hydra has a message we would love for you to hear. The era of heroes is about to come to an end.”

Your men blocking the door raised their weapons as footsteps could be heard coming towards the room. Yous stayed focused on your words.

“Hydra will soon rise to rule and bring harmony to all. Why cling to the idea that you have free will? What will war and death bring the countries fighting among each other? With Hydra overseeing the world, you will know no hunger, no child will be without it’s mother and father, no person will have to deal with destruction that heroes bring in their claim for ‘Peace’”. You spit the word out with a sneer.

There was loud pounding on the studio doors. Your men opened fire, the rat-a-tat-tat of the weapons a symphony backing up your look of steel and your words of fire.

“One way or another...Hydra will become your ruler. So it’s up to you to choose. Will you march on your current leaders and bring us their heads? Or will we have to destroy you and let you watch the flames kill everything you love. It’s up to you. We are eager to hear your response.”

And the broadcast ended.

“We have to go! Scanners are calling in the Avengers!”

You swore under your breath. You were in Detroit, so they would be here in no time.

Running past your men, you shouted orders, “Grab the cables! Get the chip from the monitor! Cover our exit! Move! Move! Move!”

Your small squadron raced behind you as you shoved open the doors on the roof.

Grabbing the parachutes that you had stored there months before, you quickly harnessed yourself in.

“Go! Go! Go!”

You shouted at your men as they ran to the edge and leapt off. A whirlwind stirred up the leaves on the roof as a familiar sight came into view. A Quinjet.

“Shit!”

You ran and leapt after your men, plummeting down the side of the tower. As you neared the ground, you pulled open your parachute.

Stumbling on the ground, the fall jarring your knees and causing you to hold back a scream. You looked back and saw the quinjet circling back.

A Squeal of tires, and a Jaguar pulled up beside you. Jumping in through the window, you raced off into traffic.

“It’s Iron Man. Dammit. Move to plan evasive maneuver B!” You called out into your comms.

You instructed your driver on where to go as you tried to shake the gold and red man following you in the air.

Pulling Into an underground subway. You quickly changed cars. Climbing into a cleaning van.

The Jaguar peeled away, racing ahead and leading Iron Man away.

Meanwhile, the cleaning van merged with traffic and headed to the safe house.

~~~~~~~~~~

“They said that they should have died at birth...and then they left.”

Natasha clung onto Clint as they listened to what their kid was saying.

“FRIDAY?” Natasha called out to the AI.

“Yes Miss Romanoff?”

“What is [Y/n] Romanoff-Barton’s last known location.”

A whirr, “[Y/n] was last seen boarding a shipment bound for Europe roughly twenty four hours ago, and then goes dark.”

“No...No..” Tears fell from Natasha’s eyes as she clung to Clint.

Clint shook, his own eyes staring at the one child in front of them. “Why didn’t you stop them?” He asked. Trying to stay calm.

Alex trembled, but stayed standing, “I tried. Dad. I tried. But I’ve known for years that they felt unappreciated and unloved by you guys. I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve…”

And they fell to the ground. Sobbing into their hands.

Warm arms and bodies fell on top of them as Natasha and Clint hugged them, crying along with them at the loss of their child.

“We’ll bring them home.” Natasha whispered to her husband and child.

Alex rubbed their nose, “How?”

Clint shared a look with Natasha, “By proving our love for them. We never knew that they felt that way, we just wanted them to see the potential that we saw in them. I guess we went about it the wrong way.”

Alex frowned, “Why did you treat me differently then?”

Natasha nuzzled her face into their hair, “Because you already had confidence in yourself and it showed. But we should have trained both of you the same.”

“You forgot their birthday, and it’s the same as mine.”

“We never forgot their birthday. When they were a kid, they said they hated parties, that it stressed them out, so we stopped putting the attention on them. We never knew they felt left out because of that decision.”

“For Christmas-”

“We heard them talking to Steve about how they wanted to be better. They never gave us anything else to work with.”

“Training-”

“We thought it would motivate them.”

“That bank robbery a few years back-”

“We knew they were hurt, and we know that they don’t like shows of weakness. We thought we were doing the right thing.”

“I love you mom...Dad...and we’ll bring [Y/n] back from wherever they ran to.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“That was close.” you muttered. Pulling the curtains close again as the police sirens faded in the distance.

Falling backwards into the chair, you looked around the safe house. It was more of a safe apartment.

Hidden on the outskirts of Detroit, it used to be a nursing home before it was abandoned. Setting up one of the old rooms into an office, you had never planned to use this outpost. Yet, here you were.

“I wonder what Alex is up to? I wonder if they ever finished that Psychology degree they were doing online?”

You hadn’t realized you were talking out loud until the silence grew deafening. Sitting up, you looked at your squadron who were all staring at you.

“Commandeer...have you been compromised?” One member asked hesitantly.

You shook your head, “Sorry Kovinach, just rambling. Prepare for departure in 0800 hours.”

You went back to looking at the sunlight filtering from between the curtains covering the window. It didn’t do to try and think about your family. They would be gone soon enough. For good.

And yet, despite what you had been working towards, and planning for years, looming closer in your sight, your chest hurt when you thought about never seeing them again. On or off the battlefield.

Never seeing your mother’s vibrant red hair. Never laughing with your twin when your father forgot to charge his hearing aids and acted like a mime instead of using ASL. Never raiding the Avengers cabinets with Alex, looking for the cookies that Bucky and Steve hid.

“Ugh!” You grimaced, clutching your chest.

You had wanted them dead, so that you could forget about them. Like they had forgotten you all those years. But...doubt flickered in your mind.

If you really wanted them dead, you could have killed them on that tower in Italy. You could have killed them countless times. But something always stopped you. Did you still love them? No, impossible.

You shook your head at that thought.

But then, why else let them continue breathing? Hydra head expected you to be the one to kill them, since it had been your plan in the first place.

“Commandeer Verräter come in. Over.” Misha’s voice spoke loudly from the old scanner.

Raising the microphone, you clicked it on, “This is Terror.”

“Successful operation. The world leaders are trying to shut down the broadcast, but it has already spread around the globe and onto the darknet.”

“Glad you are pleased Misha.”

“Now, the only thing left to do is deal with those pesky family ties you have. ”

You winced, “Yes sir. Right away.”

“Tonight.”

You gasped, “That wasn’t the deal! I had until the coalition moved forward with the march.”

Misha laughed, the sound filled with static...and malice, “That was until they showed up right outside your door. You have until tonight, or it will be your head that gets brought in front of the council. Good luck.”

You slammed the handheld microphone down on the desk. Shattering it.

“Damn!”

“Commandeer?”

“Leave me alone!” You screamed, throwing the scanner at the man who intruded.

You dry heaved. Hunched over in the chair, staring at the wood floor. Your vision swam. Now with your family's death looming over you. You knew without a doubt...you still loved them.

How would you be able to kill them? You had to. To survive. That was always the goal. Survive and prove that you were strong. That you didn’t need them.

Straightening, you wiped your eyes. No tears. No weakness. You had killed before. You would kill again.

Now. For the plan….

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mom?” Your voice wavered as you clung to the old payphone. You kept your hat down low and your coat collar up, trying to stay as hidden as you could.

“[Y/n]!? [Y/n] is that you?” Natasha’s voice was filled with emotion, “Clint! It’s [Y/n]!”

You could hear some rustling and then another familiar voice filled the air, “[Y/n]? We saw the broadcast. What are you doing!? Stop this madness, please.”

Your voice broke, “Dad..I-I know. I realized that they were using me. I overheard them talking. They...they’re going to kill me! I was just a pawn..”

Both of your parents talked over each other, “Oh honey.”

“[Y/n], where are you?”

“We can help you stop them.”

“We need to know what they are planning.”

“We love you so much.”

“We never stopped looking for you.”

“Alex will be so happy to have you back.”

“We can work with the government to grant you a pardon. Like they did with Bucky.”

You interrupted them, catching the eye of one of your squadron members patrolling the street, “Mom. Dad. I...I can’t just leave. They’ll know I betrayed them. They would go after all of you. I know..I know I acted rashly before. Leaving. Instead of talking to you guys. I wish I could change time. But I can’t.”

“What are you proposing?” Your father, the levelheaded one. The calm one.

You choked down a deranged laugh, “Meet me at the Detroit Zoo tonight. I want to see you. I’ll make sure I’m not followed. We can discuss how to extract me. Please...I miss you. I- I love you guys.”

A choked sob from your mother, “Of course. We’ll see you soon.”

You whispered quickly, “I have to go! They’ll get suspicious of me being outside for so long! See you tonight. Seven.”

And you hung up the payphone.

Drawing in a deep breath, you stepped out of the booth.

“They tracked the call, most likely.”

You grinned, “I’m counting on it.”

~~~~~~~

You walked into the zoo. The night sky shining down on you. The only sounds, animals as they moved in their enclosures.

“Ready Alpha one.”

Your comm sparked to life.

You whispered, “Stay in position until you see the signal.”

“Copy that.”

You walked further into the Zoo. Mindful of your squadron that were scattered in different areas, watching.

“[Y/n]?”

Your name, a whispered sigh of disbelief.

“Mother.”

And then arms were hugging you.

You forced yourself to relax in her arms.

“I’ve missed you so much. I thought you were gone for good when you tried to kill your sibling on that rooftop.”

You smiled softly, “I almost did. But you stopped me. And now, I finally realize that Hydra was using me, trying to take away my humanity. I’m so sorry.”

You drew your mother back in for a hug, so that she wouldn’t see your eyes.

“[Y/n]!?” Another voice. Louder.

You turned out of Natasha’s grasp. “Alex!” You ran across the pavilion and leapt into your twin’s arms. The only person you really loved and had missed the past years.

The one that would be the hardest to kill.

“You had a hella strong grip back there at the tower.” They gingerly touched their neck that was mottled green and purple.

You winced, “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You couldn’t choke out the words. How could you? When you were planning to stab them in the back in just a few moments.

You turned in a circle, “Where’s father?”

Your mother and twin walked so that they stood side by side. Your twin wouldn’t meet your gaze, staring at the ground.

Your mother held out a hand, “You understand. The last time we saw you, you tried to kill Alex and threatened to kill us. When you called out of the blue, we were so happy but we also needed to be sure that you really wanted to come back, that Hydra wasn’t manipulating you.”

You cocked your head, dread growing in your mind as you processed what she was saying.

“He’s watching...isn’t he?” You turned to look up at the surrounding trees, already knowing that you wouldn’t spot him if he didn’t want to be spotted.

You needed to warn your squadron to draw back. If your father saw them, he would alert Natasha that something was up.

But you couldn’t act suspicious in front of the two in front of you.

“You understand? Right? We just...we love you so much, we want to make sure that you really do want to come back.”

You nodded slowly, taking a step back further into the shadows, “I understand. I guess...I just missed you all so much. I wanted to see you all...One...last…”

“It’s a trap!”

You whirled as your father jumped out a tree, Covered in blood, he had an arrow strung and pointed at you.

“[Y/n]?” Your twin raised their head and stared at you in horror.

You grinned, shrugging, “Sorry.”

And then you pulled your gun from where you had it hidden, “Fire!”

From the dozen men you had originally, only five emerged from the shadows. You guessed the blood on your father was from the other seven.

“Damn it [Y/n]!” Your mother cursed as she leapt atop one of your men.

You fired at her, as the soldier under her tried to dislodge her from his neck.

“We want to help you!”

You screamed at her in frustration, none of your bullets were hitting, “I don’t want your help! I want you dead!”

You changed your attention, switching to where your father stood back to back with your twin, shooting off arrows.

Two more men down. You were down to three.

“Just die! Leave me alone! I don’t want to think about you anymore! I don’t want to hurt!” Your vision was odd.

Had you been shot? Why was your vision so fuzzy and watery?

“[Y/n]! Do you really want to kill us? We love you! I love you!”

Suddenly, your twin was in front of you. You kept pulling the trigger, the sound of an empty clip, clicking in your mind.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.” Your twin spoke softly, wrapping their hands around yours.

Your arms were shaking. Your twin carefully took the gun from your hands and passed it over to where your father stood, silently, watching.

“It’s okay. It’s over. It’s over.”

Your legs gave out. And then you realized. You were crying.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. You’re home.”

Alex wrapped their arms around you and you sunk into their warmth. Burying your head in their shoulders, you released everything you had held in.

Sobs racked your body. The force causing you to gasp for breath as your tears soaked their shirt.

They murmured nonsensical words to you, a hand rubbing your back comfortingly.

“It’s okay. I’m here. I love you. It’s okay. You’re alright. We’ll be okay.”

The only witnesses to your weakness...Your twin, your mother, your father, and the night sky.

~~~~~~~~~

“In other news today, the once known member of the Avengers, [Y/n], otherwise known as War, who used to fight alongside their twin and parents, is now being released from the psychiatric facility where they have been detained for the past year.

As you may recall, [Y/n] Romanoff-Barton was behind the infamous Hydra world broadcast from Detroit over a year ago. Shortly after, they were apprehended by their former teammates and family members and brought back to New york. After intensive questioning and a trail before the UN, it was decided that [Y/n] Romanoff-Barton suffered from Borderline personality disorder and various dissociative states.

While still treated as a criminal of war, The parent’s of [Y/n], Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, along with the twin of the Hydra Commander, Alex Romanoff-Barton, vouched for their family member and actively worked with the UN to come to an agreement.

[Y/n] Romanoff-Barton has spent the past year in Sunny Villa Psychiatric center outside New York, getting help and working with multiple governments to stop Hydra by providing intel from their time in their ranks.

While it is unknown if [Y/n] Romanoff- Barton will ever take up their hero mantel of ‘War’ in the future, we do know that the Avengers are keeping them in their New York compound. Is that decision safe? Can they trust them after everything they have done? Are they a spy sent by Hydra? Is this all a trap? Only time will tell.

Next up on Midtown news-”

You jerked up when the TV suddenly shut off. Your twin stood there, white knuckle gripping the remote.

“You shouldn’t listen to them.”

You sighed, sagging further into the couch, “But they’re right to be judgmental. I brought a bunch of pain and horror during my time in Hydra. Italy is still dealing with the carnage I left.”

Alex sat down next to you on the couch, “That wasn’t really you though. You were ill and Hydra took advantage of that.”

You turned to your twin, seeing the soft smile on their face, the eyes that you saw everyday in the mirror, shining back at you.

“I just. I hurt a lot of people Alex. And I feel like I haven’t done enough to earn the trust you all have shown me. I mean.. I tried to kill you!”

Your twin laughed, “Multiple times.”

You smacked their shoulder, “I’m serious!”

Alex stopped laughing, a hand came up to grip your shoulder, “So am I. You were Ill, [Y/n]. And no one noticed. Not even your family. So we are just as much to blame. But blaming doesn’t do anyone any good. All we can do is move on and try to be a better person tomorrow.”

You chuckled softly, “Now you sound like my therapist.”

Another voice filled the room, “And how are those meetings going?”

You turned just in time to see your father vault over the back of the couch and land on the other side of you.

Both you and your twin laughed as you saw that your father had half a doughnut stuffed in his mouth, white powder covering most of his face.

You sighed, “It’s hard to talk about everything. But I think it’s helping me, talk about my childhood and what I felt growing up. And of course, after the therapy, I meet with Everett Ross to give them any information about Hydra that I can remember.”

“It’s done the world a lot of good to know their plans beforehand.”

All three of you turned to see Natasha walking into the room. Everyone was dressed casually, since your family had taken a leave from the Avengers after you had been released from the hospital.

“Hey Mom.” You waved.

She smiled at you as she sat down on the floor by your feet.

“So, what’s the game plan for today?”

You father jumped excitedly, “[Y/n] hasn’t seen Moana yet.”

You squinted in confusion at your father, “What the hell is a Moana?”

“[Y/n]! Language!” Alex laughed, hugging you to their side. “Turn it on Mom!”

You smiled as you listened to your family bicker and tease as they set up the TV to watch Moana.

It would be a long road till the world trusted you again. But you didn’t need to prove yourself to anyone anymore. You didn’t have to be strong. You didn’t have to be alone.

Because you had your family. And they loved you.

The True Savior, had been family.

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t @mialeelavellan @rainydaysrnevergrey @platonic-plots @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @ayyidkeither @mcuimxgine @mythixmagic @chas-z @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger

Natasha Taglist:

@ludwigvonbaethoven @hanjiscience-slut @kitten-q-p @morbid-gaymer @honeybadgerwhodoesntcare @sunnyandtwisty @zoeyknight @kurlyafro @thewomanofwonder @5aftermidnight @myfemininelesboworld @rizamendoza808

Avengers Taglist:

@jadepc

#Avengers #avengers tower #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x child!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x clint #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #clint barton #Clintasha #Natasha x Reader x Clint #clint x reader #twin reader #reader insert #please give credit #please let me know #imagine #imagines request

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areyoureadyforsomemeatballz · 6 years

Text

You’ve Got Mail (4)

Summary: You find yourself falling for stranger on an anonymous messenger app created for students at your college. What happens when you discover that they’re not a stranger after all?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1900

Warnings: Some swearing. Two dumb asses in love.

A/N: We’re coming to a head my friends! I’m so excited to share this next part with you. Please, please, please let me know what you think! Talking with you guys and hearing your thoughts makes me ridiculously happy. This is part of my entry for @spideywhiteys 1000 follower challenge, go check Jem out.

Natasha leads you into a booth at the diner across from your apartment building. After the waiter drops your drinks off at the table she gives you an expectant look. You stir the straw around in your glass absentmindedly and take a deep breath. Your hands drop to the sticky table, avoiding her eyes.

“I want what you and Clint have.” You look up from your clasped hands. “Hell, I want what Bucky and Sam have. I want someone who knows me inside and out and loves me for it-”

Natasha reaches across the table for your hand and cuts you off. “Honey-”

“Nat, its fine. I’m fine. It’s just hard not to think about it when I’m surrounded by happy couples.”

She squeezes your hand softly. “We’re not always happy.”

“I know that,” you say. “No relationship is going to be perfect. But, in the end, you make it work and you can’t deny that you’re not happier with Clint in your life.”

Her eyes soften, and she nods her head. “He’s my everything.”

You smile at her. “I kinda met someone.”

Her eyes go wide, and she grips your hand again, tighter this time. “What? When? Are they hot? Have you slept together?” She pauses briefly, and her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Oh my god, was it Tony’s app?”

Your cheeks heat up and you busy yourself with the menu in front of you. “Yeah, it was the fucking app,” you whisper. “God, I feel so stupid.”

She tugs the menu away from your face. “One, you get the same thing every time we come here. Two, why do you feel stupid? Who cares how you met someone?”

“We’ve never actually met,” you mumble.

“Come again?”

“I’ve never actually met him. I don’t even know his name.”

Natasha’s jaw drops and her brows furrow. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since the night of the release party.”

“That was weeks ago,” she shouts, much to the annoyance of the couple in the booth behind yours. The old woman whips her head around to glare daggers at the two of you.

You clap your hand over her mouth with wide eyes. “Natty shh. I know!”

You drop your hand from her face when you’re sure she won’t yell again. “I didn’t even know you were still using it! I figured you stopped as soon as I talked to Clint. I mean that was the deal, right?”

You nod your head and pull out your phone. “Yeah, but I got attached.” Your head drops onto the table with a quiet bang. “I really like him, Natasha.”

“I’m not seeing the issue? Besides you not telling me ‘till now.”

“I don’t even know him! What if he’s a serial killer? What if he’s a terrible frat guy?”

She rolls her eyes at you and presses against your forehead, forcing you to sit up. “You’ve been talking for over a month, I think you’re a pretty good judge of character. So, when are you meeting him?”

“Do you think I should?”

“Do you think you shouldn’t?”

“You’re not being helpful,” you whine.

“You’re the only one that can decide if you should meet this guy,” she says. “Does he make you happy?”

“Yeah, yeah he does.”

The waiter comes back to take your orders and after Natasha launches into a story about one of her coaches. You set your phone off to the side, not noticing the vibration signaling a new message. Once you’re home you unlock your phone, grinning at the screen when you realize you have an unread text from your mystery man.

CaptainDumbass: OH MY GOD

ActualWitch: ???

ActualWitch: Are you okay

CaptainDumbass: It took you like a year to respond

ActualWitch: I haven’t had my phone all morning

ActualWitch: Why were you freaking out?

CaptainDumbass: OH YEAH

CaptainDumbass: WAIT

CaptainDumbass: WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT

ActualWitch: you declared your undying love for me

CaptainDumbass: Yes

CaptainDumbass: Wait, no

CaptainDumbass: I…

ActualWitch: Im messing with you gramps

CaptainDumbass: I do like you though

CaptainDumbass: But I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that

CaptainDumbass: I was in kind of a weird place

ActualWitch: But you still like me?

CaptainDumbass: Yes

ActualWitch: We’re on the same page then

ActualWitch: I like you too

CaptainDumbass: I thought it was a dream that I told you

ActualWitch: Are you okay?

CaptainDumbass: Yeah

CaptainDumbass: I just had a rough night

CaptainDumbass: Is that too vague?

ActualWitch: A bit?

CaptainDumbass: I was confused about my feelings and one of my friends decided it would be a good idea to get really drunk

CaptainDumbass: but not so much

ActualWitch: I think we’ve all been there

CaptainDumbass: I don’t regret it though

CaptainDumbass: I think it would have taken me a lot longer to get the courage to tell you

ActualWitch: You don’t even regret the hangover?

CaptainDumbass: I don’t even regret the hangover…

CaptainDumbass: not if it means you know how I feel

ActualWitch: you’re a fucking sap

ActualWitch: I wish I could bring you coffee or painkillers or something...

CaptainDumbass: is that your way of saying you want to meet me?

CaptainDumbass: because I’d love nothing more

CaptainDumbass: … Please answer

CaptainDumbass: I take it back

CaptainDumbass: I’m so sorry

ActualWitch: I literally didn’t answer for thirty secods

CaptainDumbass: Are you still mocking me?

CaptainDumbass: OR DID YOU MAKE A MISTAKE?!?!?!

CaptainDumbass: GRANDMA!

ActualWitch: Why do I want to meet you again?

CaptainDumbass: You want to meet me?

ActualWitch: I was trying to say that and then you had a small meltdown

CaptainDumbass: When are you free?

ActualWitch: Tuesday night?

CaptainDumbass: I have class then

CaptainDumbass: Wednesday?

ActualWitch: Class :(

CaptainDumbass: What about tonight?

CaptainDumbass: Is that too soon??

ActualWitch: I mean that works for me

CaptainDumbass: There’s a little coffee shop on main, does that work

ActualWitch: Are you talking about Val’s??

CaptainDumbass: Yes?

CaptainDumbass: Have you been there?

ActualWitch: I might be in love with you….

ActualWitch: VALS IS MY LIFE

CaptainDumbass: Well then

CaptainDumbass: See you tonight

ActualWitch: Look for the girl with the roses

CaptainDumbass: Oh smart. So I know its you

ActualWitch: I WAS KIDDING

ActualWitch: Oh my godddddddddddddddddd

ActualWitch: See you tonight dummy

You toss your phone down and notice a draft of one of Steve’s assignments on your desk that he must’ve left after your last study session. You squeeze your eyes closed and lean back against your bed. You’d been able to push Steve out of your thoughts all morning, but now he was at the forefront of your mind. You push yourself up off the bed and scoop his work up. You march down the hall to his door and take a breath before tapping on the door.

Steve swings the door open and his eyes light up briefly as he takes in the sight of you. The circles under his eyes seem darker and he leans against the doorframe with a quirked brow. “I uh- I missed you at breakfast,” his voice is rough as if he hasn’t spoken all day. “You and Nat- we missed you and Nat this morning.”

You shrug your shoulders and your lips quirk up. “Sorry, Stevie. We weren’t feeling up for it.”

Steve runs his hand over the back of his head and his cheeks dusted with a blush. “Oh, did you end up going out last night?”

Your nose crinkles and you shake your head. “I would’ve texted.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what forget I said anything.” You thrust the stack of papers in your hand into his chest. “You left these at my place.”

You spin on your heel to leave, but Steve’s hand closes around your wrist. “What are we doing?”

“Well, I was trying to go back to my apartment.”

Steve groans and drops your hand. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

“I don’t know what to say, Steve.”

“You don’t have to say anything, I just miss my best friend.”

Your eyes dart down to your feet. “I miss you too.”

He tugs you toward his chest and you breathe in deeply as you settle against him. Steve nuzzles his nose into your hair, making you laugh. The two of you stay wrapped in each other’s arms until you hear approaching footsteps. You are torn as you step away from him.

“Are you busy right now?

You look down at your phone and notice that you need to head to Val’s soon. You look back up and can’t deny Steve’s pleading eyes. “I uh- No. No, I’m not busy. Why?”

Steve nods his head toward his door with a small smile. “Do you want to come watch movies with me? I’ll even get Chinese food from that shit-hole down the street.”

“Excuse you, that ‘shit-hole’ is so much better than the place you like.”

Steve’s smile grows and leads you into his place, grabbing your favorite blanket and getting you settled on the couch. “I’m going to go order the food. Pick whatever you want to watch, okay?”

Steve retreats to the kitchen and you glance behind you quickly. You open up the Campus Chat app to cancel your plans for the evening.

ActualWitch: Please don’t hate me

CaptainDumbass: I could never?

CaptainDumbass: Oh shit….

CaptainDumbass: Something came up can we reschedule?

ActualWitch: Yes!

ActualWitch: That’s why I texted you

Actual Witch: My friend is having a crisis

CaptainDumbass: Same here.

ActualWitch: When do you want to switch to

CaptainDumbass: What about this time next week?

ActualWitch: 5 next Saturday?

CaptainDumbass: works for me

ActualWitch: okay

ActualWitch: That’s a long time to wait…

You hear Steve puttering around the kitchen and turn back to your phone waiting for a response. Steve’s voice fills the apartment as he calls in your order and you snatch up the remote to find a movie before he gets back. He flops on the couch next to you, resting his head on your thigh.

“What took you so long in there?”

A blush dusts his cheeks as he looks up at you. “I had to send a quick text.”

Your smile falls for a split second, but you school your features before Steve sees. “Oh, to that girl you’ve been talking to?”

He nods his head in your lap and you decide to drop the conversation. As you continue the search for a movie you can feel Steve’s eyes on you. He sits up to help you look and you pass him the remote.

“I have to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” You stand quickly and retreat, hoping that a break will let the tension out of the room.

Steve watches as you rush to the bathroom with a small frown on his face. He pulls his phone out and his frown drops when he notices a new message on Campus Chat.

CaptainDumbass: Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table right after he sends the message. Steve’s eyes widen, and he reaches for your phone. He drops his hand, rethinking his action, and instead unlocks his phone again.

CaptainDumbass: …

Another buzz sounds from the table.

CaptainDumbass: Hey

Another buzz.

Steve plucks your phone off the table and his eyes dart down the hallway. He unlocks your phone and his heart stops when he sees a very familiar text thread. Steve drops your phone as if it had bitten him and all the color drains from his face. He was fucked.

Part 3

Part 5

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welcometohellweofferimagines · 6 years

Photo

Marvel Universe | The Avengers Imagine Requested/Submitted by ducedamoose [Purple People Eater]

I claim no credit for the gif. All credit goes to its wonderful creator. xx

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jump-off-a-clifford-universe · 6 years

Text

If I’m gonna write a fic, would you like to see -

- Stucky

- Clintasha

- Thor

- more reader inserts???

and and, do you want it to be

- angsty angst

- fluffy fluff

- comedy??

please please please tell me here I wanna write some good ones and I need you guys’ opinion

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spoonfulofsexy · 7 years

Text

Party Like A Stark

Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Part (3/6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: Today is your 19th birthday, and you also happen to be Tony Stark’s loved daughter. What’s a better way to celebrate this special day than a party?! All the Avengers and family friends will be there, even your secret crush Spider-Man. You’ve always wanted to meet the famous spiderling, but little did you know you already know him. Your party will definitely be one to remember.

Warnings: some sexual stuff but not smut

Masterlist

AN: Alright things are getting a little steamy!! thanks for all your support on this little mini fic! I really didn’t expect it to be this popular!! you guys are great and don’t be afraid to tell me what you think of it!!

You ordered an infused water, while Peter just had a plain water. You took a few sips before talking to Peter again.

“So what other little secrets are you hiding, Peter?”, you leaned closer to him as you rested your arms on the bar.

“Uh, I don’t know. I’m a pretty simple guy”, he modestly said.

“Oh cmon”, you playfully nudged your arm with his. “You’re telling me a guy who wears tights and swings from webs, is a simple guy?”

“I mean Spider-Man is the most interesting thing about me”, he said under his breath and shrugged his shoulders.

“Alright, that’s bullshit Peter. Don’t sell yourself short like that”, you gave him a genuine smile. “I mean you could dance like a pro! You’re incredibly smart, and you seem like a really sweet guy. I don’t think Spider-Man defines who you are.” You placed your hand over his hesitantly, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. Your warm skin came into contact with his, making butterflies flutter around your stomach.

He looked at you with curious eyes as you squeezed his hand. Your heartbeat accelerated as you realized both of your faces were inching closer together. You both paused, you were so close you could feel his warm breath against your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, but unsurprisingly the moment was interrupted.

“IT’S TIME FOR KARAOKE!!!! WHERE’S THE BIRTHDAY GIRL?!”, Sam said over the speakers.

You pulled away and facepalmed yourself as a bright light shined on both you and Peter. “Oh geez”, you awkwardly laughed. “Uh this is kinda like tradition, I should”, you were motioning to leave.

“Oh yeah, yeah go”, he laughed. “You’ll kill it up there.”

“I know”, you shouted back.

You walked through the crowd and up to the mini stage where Sam awaited you. He handed you a mic, “So what song will you open karaoke with this year?”

You thought for a bit, “You know what, surprise me”, you said with confidence.

“Okaaaaay!”, Sam laughed.

Suddenly, the music started to play. It took you a minute till you realized what song it was. When the realization hit you, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay”, you laughed into the mic.

“You said surprise you”, Sam smirked.

“No, no this is good!”, you prepared yourself for the great performance you were about to give. “Alright, I’m sure everyone in this room has needed to hear this song once or twice.”

The words popped up on the screen but to be honest you sang this song so many times that you didn’t even need them.

You took a deep breath and began to sing.

You know the bed feels warmer Sleeping here alone You know I dream in color And do the things I want

You were actually very good at singing, which was one of the things you got from your mother. Good thing you weren’t crowd shy, or this would never be possible. Thankfully your dad helped you get over that fear very early.

You think you got the best of me Think you had the last laugh Bet you think that everything good is gone Think you left me broken down Think that I'd come running back Baby you don't know me, 'cause you're dead wrong

You were already getting into the song, this was just one of those songs that really resonated with you.

You started to walk down the stage, and into your crowd of friends. Everyone was dancing along with you as you sang the chorus of the song.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger Just me, myself and I What doesn't kill you makes you stronger Stand a little taller Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone

The high notes were hit beautifully as you danced with Wanda. You heard that I was starting over with someone new They told you I was moving on over you

You grabbed Pietro’s face and squished it as you sang.

You didn't think that I'd come back I'd come back swinging You try to break me, but you see

Pietro grabbed you and spun you around as the chorus started again. When he let go, you danced your way over to Peter and sang to him.

You tried to hold in your laugh as Peter struggled to figure out what to do with himself. You decided you tortured him enough so you walked back towards the stage.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger Just me, myself and I What doesn't kill you makes you stronger Stand a little taller Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone

When the chorus was over you stopped at your dad and held him in a half hug with your arm around his waist.

Thanks to you I got a new thing started Thanks to you I'm not the broken-hearted Thanks to you I'm finally thinking about me You know in the end the day you left was just my beginning In the end…

Then you made your way back up the stage and yelled out before the chorus started again, “Alright everyone sing it with me!”

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger Stand a little taller Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone What doesn't kill you makes a fighter Footsteps even lighter Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger Just me, myself and I What doesn't kill you makes you stronger Stand a little taller Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone

It honestly sounded amazing with everyone joining in! Even Steve and Natasha were singing along, which you were quite surprised about. You were really hoping someone was videotaping this so you could watch it later. Everyone cheered when the song was over and you took a joking bow for your “crowd.”

Peter came up to you with some water, “Wow you are a natural.”

You let out an airy laugh, “Thanks, I’m used to doing it at every party.”

Sam had more people going up and singing, it was really funny to watch because a lot of them were drunk enough to volunteer to do it.

You managed to drag Pietro, Wanda, and Peter up there to sing Uptown Funk with you, which was actually really fun. Your dad embarrassingly sang Moves Like Jagger, but he did impressively well considering how much alcohol he already drank. Sam and Scott sang Wild Thoughts which was like a class A performance and comedy routine.

After a few more songs everyone sang happy birthday to you and indulged in the amazing cake Tony ordered for you. The party began to die down and by 12 people were beginning to head out.

Peter called it an early night and went to his room, while the rest of the Avengers and you sat around the living room. It was like old times before civil war.

“Hey remember how hard Tony was trying to pick up Thor’s hammer”, Clint brought up as he took a sip of beer.

“Who invited him?”, you dad joked defensively. “I don’t remember you being able to lift it either.”

“C’mon guys, that was so long ago”, Steve tried to change the subject with a laugh.

“It still happened”, Nat snickered before taking a drink.

“Hey how about we talk about something more important”, Sam suggested. “What’s up with you and spider boy”, Sam motioned at you.

“Me and him”, and nervously laughed.

“She-”, you tackled Pietro before he could say anything.

“I-I think he’s a cool guy”, you tried to cover up.

“Mhm, I bet Nat think’s Clint’s a cool guy too”, he motioned to Nat who was sitting on Clint’s lap.

“Alright, how about we not talk about my daughter being with another guy”, Tony said a little bothered.

“Tony, she’s going to be with someone eventually”, Clint tried to reason.

Tony quickly got up from his spot on the couch and started to walk out. “Nope, nope, not my little girl.”

The room fell silent and all eyes fell on you. You held back a frown and sighed, “Well thanks for that guys.”

“Hey, I’m sorry”, Sam apologized.

“It’s fine, Sam”, you got up from your spot on the floor. “I think I’m gonna just head to bed. Had a long day.”

The team all said their goodnights as you walked to your room. When you got back to your room you undressed and took a quick shower to wash away all the sweat from dancing. You were still frustrated from earlier, so you went up to the roof to clear your head.

You mumbled to yourself as you kicked some gravel, “freaking boys.” You let out a little annoyed shout and just fell to the ground so you could lay on your back. “I’m freaking 19 for fucks sake”, you grumbled to yourself. Suddenly you heard a noise behind the air conditioning unit. “Who’s there?”

Peter’s head popped up, “I’m so sorry. I was kinda here first, then you came up here so I felt weird leaving but I figured you wanted to be alone so I kinda just hid and-”

You stopped Peter from rambling anymore, “Peter it’s fine, why are you still awake?”

Peter walked over and took a seat next to you, “I just needed to think about stuff.”

You sat up concerned for your new friend. “Do you mind if I ask about what?”

“Well your dad-”, you cut Peter off again.

“What did my dad do”, you said ready to be angry.

“No, your dad offered me to be an Avenger.”

Your body relaxed, “Oh yeah, he told me how you surprisingly declined him.”

“Yeaaaah, maybe that was a mistake though”, Peter said with regret.

“You know, you’re insane”, you laughed and looked off at the black silhouettes of the the trees.

Peter laughed, “Why because I said no to your dad?”

“No because you were begging to be an Avenger and THEN you said no to my dad”, you laughed.

“Is he mad”, Peter was clearly worried.

“Nah, he handled the rejection with grace.”

“Oh thank goodness”, Peter let out a relieved sigh. “I just don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

“Why not”, you asked looking at him.

“I just-”, he shook his head not being able to get his words out. “I can’t leave Aunt May”, he paused, “and Ned.”

You gave him a sympathetic frown, “It’s okay, I know it must be hard.”

“I mean Ned’s going to college in the fall, so I guess I wouldn’t really see him anyway.”

“Well think of this as going to college then”, you suggested. “I’m sure my dad would be understanding.”

“But Aunt May”, he said sadly.

“I’m sure she was expecting you to go to college eventually, so you leaving for a couple months shouldn’t be a shocker to her.”

“Yeah I guess that makes sense.”

You nudged Peter playfully, “See, don’t close this door yet. You’re only an hour away from your Aunt at most, so you could visit her whenever you needed to.”

Peter pushed you back, “Thanks (Y/N).”

“No problem”, you smiled back while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“So like are you an Avenger?”, he asked.

“Nah, I’m more of a SHIELD agent. I go on missions and stuff but I’m not an official Avenger”, you explained.

“Oh that’s cool, so you’re like legit”, he said all dramatically.

“Um heck yeah, I would show you my I.D. if I had it on me”, you shrugged acting all nonchalant.

“Oh well, then no proof it ain’t true”, Peter teased.

“I know 4 different languages, and have pretty much mastered 3 different martial arts. You’re telling me that you-”, Peter finished your sentence.

“Don’t think it’s true. Yes”, he smiled smugly at you.

“Oh I’ll show you!”, you pounced at the end of your sentence.

You caught Peter off guard and pinned him down to the ground, without even realizing you were currently straddling him. It only took you a minute to register the situation you had just put yourself in. Blush rose to your cheeks, and that’s when Peter decided to make his move. He grabbed your wrists and pushed himself up, till you were the one pinned to the ground.

A little “oof”, came out of your mouth as the unexpected landing made air escape your lungs.

“You seem a little distracted, (Y/N), what’s on your mind?’, he taunted you.

Your chest rose and fell, as all you could only manage to say, “You.”

This time you didn’t waste a second to kiss him. You pushed yourself up enough to feel his soft lips against yours. Peter let go of your hands and put one behind your head as support. You wrapped your fingers in his sand colored curls and deepened the long awaited kiss.

You were surprised when Peter was the one to move his mouth against yours first. Your lips moved in sync with each other’s and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks every second you felt Peter move his body closer to yours.

You gasped at the feeling he gave you as he grind his hips against yours. The make out intensified, and it was like you guys couldn’t get close enough to each other as you continued to grab onto one another’s clothing wanting nothing more than for it to be off.

You pulled away and took a deep breath of much needed air. “Wanna move this to my room?”

“Yeah”, Peter shook his head eagerly.

“Okay, I’ll go down first just in case anyone is downstairs, then I’ll open my window and you can crawl in.”

He helped you up and you dusted the dirt off your clothes. “I’ll see you in a bit”, you winked and left Peter to anxiously wait for your signal.

Tagged: @elaacreditava @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @randisnotonfire @theperksofbeingyourmum @redstarstan @mamallama613 @peter-pan-hoe @alexiajmariani @avengersandchill @blueskaikru @wizardinthewrongplace @legendarydazekitten @farfromjustordinary @tomhollandisthicc @ur-average-princess @kingwolfey @jriles124 @superisatomboyuniverse

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avengerscompound · 3 years

Text

The Surrogate - Chapter 19

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 1854

Rating: E

Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnancy complications, medical procedures, labor

Chapter 19

Time seemed to pass in a blur of sedation and panic. You were kept in the medbay the whole time with the baby being monitored as well as keeping you sedated enough to sleep and keep your powers working. It was foggy and confusing but you knew that regardless of how much time passed, Natasha stuck by your side. She slept either pressed up against you, squeezed into your hospital bed, or sitting up in the chair beside it. She ate her meals with you, sharing the tray table. She only left your side to use the bathroom, take a shower, or to have hurried conversations in the hall with medical staff or members of the Avengers team.

You knew a little about what was going on with Clint. You knew that Kate and her team had found a trail. You knew they were sure he was alive, you knew they thought they were close, yet every day he didn’t come home, you felt less sure that he ever would.

The doctors were concerned about you and the baby. You hadn’t reached what they called full-term yet, but you were close enough that they were sure she’d be fine if you were induced or had a c-section now, but no one was sure how they could do that. If you were sedated or unconscious your powers worked fine, but as soon as you started to become fully aware of what was going on, they started going haywire again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the medbay when Tony came in to talk to Natasha. Normally she’d leave the room so as not to worry you but she must have thought you were deeper asleep than you were because as soon as the door opened she started to talk.

“Any news?” She asked.

“They got him,” Tony said. Natasha moved beside you and knocked over something over which startled you just enough to make you realize what Tony had said.

“They did? Is he… are they?” Natasha babbled.

“Easy now, Red,” Tony said. “No need to smash up the place. They’re headed back now. Should be here in six hours. The little hawk’s words were; ‘he’s beaten up, but not more than usual’. He was naked too, but what else is new?”

“Oh my god, Tony,” Natasha sighed. “I was so prepared for the worst.”

“With Clint? He’s like a cockroach,” Tony said.

The machines started beeping as you tried to struggle awake, wanting to engage with them about Clint coming home. You forced your eyes open and struggled to sit up as all around you machines started to alarm.

“Dorogáya,” Natasha soothed. “Relax. You need to stay calm.”

“Clint…”

The word came out at barely a whisper and hurt your throat when you forced it.

“He’s okay. He’s coming back and everything’s going to be fine,” Natasha said, as nurses and medical staff entered the room and started to poke around you. “Just relax, my darling.”

“But...”

A sharp pain ran around your side to your back and you groaned and doubled over. “What is it?” Natasha asked, sounding alarmed. “What’s going on?”

The doctors started feeling your sides and with some gentle words and manipulation, they coaxed you into a position to check on the babies. “The baby looks fine,” Jake said and pricked your finger. “And her powers are working.” He flashed a small light into your eyes. “Do you have pain?”

You squinted at the light and winced. “In my side,” you rasped.

“Let me just check if you’re showing any other signs of labor,” he said, moving down to the foot of the bed. “It’s probably just from trying to move too fast after being still for so long.”

You pulled your knees up and spread your legs as he moved between them and started to give you a pelvic exam. There was a soft pop and a gush of liquid and Jake jumped back in shock. “Well, I guess that answers that question. You’re in labor.”

“But it’s too early,” Natasha argued. “She’s not due for four weeks.”

“It’s a bit of a relief actually,” Jake said. “We’ve been trying to figure out how to induce since she fainted. Keeping her sedated for this long was hardly ideal. We’re going to let the sedation wear off and hopefully, she’ll be born naturally.”

“Clint…” you said. “He should be here.”

“My love,” Natasha soothed. “Just worry about you right now.”

“Hey,” Tony said, rubbing Natasha’s shoulder. “I'll go and radio the jet. Let the bird know his little egg’s about to hatch. Get Cap to gun it.”

“We should have time,” Jake said. “First baby and all. They don’t just shoot out.”

“So, what do we do?” Natasha asked.

“We’re going to monitor her, and let the sedatives wear off. I’ll call Kelly to let her know things have started. Then we’re just going to have to see what happens,” Jake said. “Keep everything crossed we just have a normal labor. But I’ll be around and even though pregnancy and labor aren’t my expertise, I do know about enhanced more than anyone else, so I’ll do what I can.”

Natasha furrowed her brow. You couldn’t help but feel bad about how much stress she had been dealing with for the past few weeks. Here you were freaking out about Clint and she had you, Clint, and the baby to worry about. It was a testament to her that she was able to keep it together as well as she had.

You took her hand and held it to your cheek. “I’m sorry, Nat,” you whispered.

“What for?” She asked.

“This. Clint. Everything,” you said. “It’s too much.”

She caressed your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’s going to be worth it. Everyone will be here soon.”

It was a few hours before the sedation began wearing off enough that you were able to get up and out of bed. However, as it wore off your powers seemed to start acting up again. They would go from working so well they would out any needles that came anywhere near you, to not working at all so that your blood pressure would shoot up and you’d have to lie down while they monitored both you and the baby.

Even with all that, things seemed to progress normally and the longer the labor went, the more you were sure Clint wasn’t going to make it in time.

Natasha didn’t leave your side. If you were in bed on the monitors, she was holding your hand and patting your brow with a cool compress. If you were up and pacing through the pain, she was walking with you. When you wanted to go into the shower and just sit under the water, she was in there with you, stripped down to her underwear and supporting your weight.

You recognized the look of fear on her face every time they hooked you up to the monitors and the look of relief when the heartbeat monitors all showed normal. Otherwise, she just seemed as calm and together as she always was. Even in the midst of active labor, you couldn’t help worrying about Clint.

“Looks like it’s time,” your obstetrician Kelly said. “She’s coming.”

“No, no, no, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Clint’s not here yet.”

“The baby doesn’t care, honey,” Kelly reasoned. “You’re going to have to push.”

You screwed up your face and shook your head, trying to resist the urge to push that your own body was sending out. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the door burst open and Kate practically fell through it, supporting Clint. “I’ve got him, he’s here,” she shouted.

“Did I miss it?” Clint asked, his voice panicked.

“Oh my god!” Natasha gasped, holding out her free arm. Clint staggered forward and basically fell into her arms. “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m sorry, Nat,” he said. “I was…”

She shook her head and held him close. “You can tell us later.”

You moaned as a contraction hit and you felt the urge to push that you couldn’t ignore. “That’s it, push,” Kelly cheered.

Clint let Natasha go and leaned over you, looking down into your eyes. “Hey babe,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

You wanted to respond, but all you were was the pain of delivering a baby. You groaned and pushed again, straining as hard as you could.

“Well, no offense, but I’m taking that as my cue. I’ll be out there,” Kate announced and left the room.

“That’s it, dorogáya,” Natasha soothed as Clint pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“She’s crowning if either of you wants to see,” Kelly said.

Both Clint and Natasha moved down to look between your legs. Clint’s face scrunched up while Natasha's jaw dropped open. “Wow, look at her.”

“We’re getting really close now,” Kelly said. “When you’re ready, push again.”

It was another half an hour or so before the final push that brought your little girl into the word. She started crying immediately, and the sound was a relief. She was okay. Despite Nathasha’s genes and your powers going haywire, she had a good set of lungs and she was pink, and healthy, and here.

You lay back down and felt the familiar buzz of your powers engaging healing everything that had happened to you as they cut the cord and whisked her away to be weighed and have her APGAR done.

“You did it,” Natasha said, caressing your brow.

You hummed and looked over at Clint. He was a mess of cut and bruises but he looked happy as he watched the medical staff fussing over the baby. “You made it.”

“I told you I’d be here,” he said and leaned down and kissed you. There was a spark as his lips touched on yours and you both hummed and enjoyed that buzz as it spread from you to him as his wounds began to heal.

They brought the little girl over and placed her on your chest. She was just how you’d imagined her. Clint’s bright blue eyes and a tuft of red hair like Natasha. She looked around at you, Natasha, and Clint like she was taking you all in. “She’s perfect,” you said.

Natasha made a choked sound and nodded, and tears began to run down her cheeks. With all the things you’d seen Natasha go through, the admitting she couldn’t have kids, the gratefulness when you’d offered to be surrogate, her fear it would go wrong, starting a relationship with you, Clint going missing, your weird health turn, this was the first time you’d ever seen her cry. It made you so happy to see how moved she was right now and you reached over and took her hand. “Maybe you should hold her.”

Natasha nodded again and carefully lifted her off you, cradling her close, and looked down at the newborn. “Hey, sweet girl. I’m your mama,” she whispered.

“We did it, Nat,” Clint said. “You get to have everything.”

// NEXT

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