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shedobewritingalittle · 3 years

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Me and My Husband

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The reader warns herself of her relationship with Steve Rogers.

Rating: R

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Infidelity, miscarriage, depression, suicidal thoughts

No one will tell you what to do when you find out your husband is cheating on you. No one tells you that whether you stay or you leave him, everything you do will be judged ruthlessly. So you just pretend. You will pretend like its not happening, like you haven't seen the text messages on his phone or heard the whispers when you visit the Compound upstate. You'll ignore them the best you can, pray that somehow you got this all wrong. But you can read minds, so you get it straight from him that he's cheating on you.

You'll keep your head held high, ignoring the issue as much as possible. You act like nothing is amiss, even though everyone that you work it-or have worked with-knows the truth. They all know your husband was having an affair and they wonder if you know. You can see their questions as they appear in their heads. You plaster a smile on your face, wishing to be in your bed so you just cry. You'll get bombarded with their thoughts and it'll make you feel like you're drowning.

You'll never bring it up to your husband, but he knows that you know. You've promised that you'd never read his mind, but he knows that you have. You know every gritty little detail of the affair and he knows. He is reminded of it every time he sees you lying in the bed you once shared, your back to him. He's reminded of what he did every time the two of you visit the Compound upstate, when everyone gives her looks of sympathy while he gets glares that bore into his skin. Every time your eyes meet his, he is reminded that he didn't care about the sanctity of marriage and because of that you'll never look at him the same way ever again.

You'll spend moments wondering what you did wrong. Did you not love him enough? Not give him enough attention? Instead of being mad at your husband, you're mad at yourself. Wanting to think about what you could have done instead of thinking that your husband just didn't love you. It'll be easier to blame yourself and you'll live with this bundle of hatred for yourself.

A betrayal by the people closest to you. Your husband and your best friend. Your husband and your maid of honor. The two people you loved most in the world sleeping together and losing your trust, losing you. You wanted it to be anyone but her, anyone else. You prayed and begged that somehow his thoughts betrayed him and he didn't sleep with her, but you know deep down that he did. Her face is all over his memories. She won't meet your eyes and you've stopped taking her calls. You will want to hurt her, kill her. Want to make her brains spool out from her head because you're so God damned hurt. She isn't friend anymore. Friends don't betray you. Friends don't sleep with your husband. Friends don't make a mockery of your marriage. Friends don't-

Cry.

You'll find yourself crying a lot. It's an endless stream of tears that leave your head pounding and your eyes aching. It's the type of crying that makes your throat and entire chest hurt, the types of crying that leaves you feeling hollow. You must be dehydrated with how much you're crying. Your husband will come home to see your eyes red and watery. He used to be so concerned when he saw you post-crying, but that was before your marriage imploded. He knows he is the reason why you're crying, so he doesn't bother asking anymore. And that only makes you cry even more.

A night of emotions being too high and apologies that he doesn't mean result will in a positive pregnancy test and you're stuck in marriage with three people. You, your husband, and the other woman. It's too cramped and you feel like you can't breathe. It's suffocating.

When you get pregnant, people will whisper it's a save the marriage baby. None of their smiles will meet their eyes and their pity will be written all over their faces. They congratulate you nonetheless, calling you a fool once your back is turned. Having a baby with a man that betrayed her with her best friend.

They'll ask you how he feels about it. Not how you feel because you're not allowed to have feelings anymore. You gave up your feelings when you chose to ignore his infidelity. They'll ask you how he reacted, if he is happy. You don't want to tell them that he just nodded when you told him, his face not giving away way what he felt about the news. You don't to tell them at he left immediately to go see her as soon as you got into the shower.

She will be in the room when you tell the remaining members of your team, both holograms and in person. Hidden in plain sight, she sits among the people you call your friends-at least the ones that remain. His eyes meet hers when the news falls from your lips and you can hear her whisper in her mind "What are we going to do?". As your friends and teammates walk up to congratulate the two of you, she takes her time getting up, takes her time to walk over to you. She looks you in the eye and says that the two of you are going to be great parents. Three of us in this marriage and I can't breathe.

You'll wonder every day as your stomach grows if the man who you married hates you. He's stuck in this house that he had built, with the family he had wanted, in loveless marriage because he messed up and you found out. It doesn't stop him from leaving at night, showering immediately when he comes back. They both know you aren't stupid. You know what they are doing, but your heart can't break anymore. You'll tell yourself that he'll stop when the baby comes, but you know that's a lie, but it's a lie you keep repeating to yourself in hopes of it coming true.

Sometimes, you will dive into his mind when he is asleep next to you. He'll never know that you've snuck inside, but you get to see every moment of their relationship. It's sadistic and all it does is make you more upset, but you can't help yourself. You need to know how far it goes, if they love each other or if it's just a physical thing. She fills up more of his memories than you do. You're being replaced and there isn't a thing you can do about it. You can only watch it happen.

And no one will tell you what to do when you start to bleed. It will seems to pour endlessly from you, staining the cream colored sheets. Your husband won't be beside you, he's off with her. So instead, through the pain, you drive yourself to the hospital, blood covering the seat. Tears streaming down your face as you force yourself to walk into the emergency room, hand on your stomach. You'll lean on the receptionist's desk and calmly tell her "I think I am losing my baby." as blood drips down your legs. No one tells you who to call. Should you interrupt your husband's time with his mistress? Make him hate you more? No. Instead, you call your friend, the one who has always been like a brother to you. The one who lives a few hours away with his wife and their newborn daughter. You'll wait for him, sitting alone in a hospital room as nurses run tests on you.

No one will tellyou how you are supposed to react when they come in and tell you that your baby-a boy, you learn-is gone. Your bump is still there, so how can he be gone? He. A sweet baby boy that you'll never get to meet. When Tony arrives, you can't get the words out. Saying it aloud will mean it's true. But he knows. He knows as soon as he walks through the door that the baby is gone. He doesn't bring it up and instead sits next to you, where your husband should be, and holds your hand. Your hand in his while you other hand cradles your bump. Your husband will return home the next morning to find your car gone with blood smeared everywhere. For the first time in months, he'll call your phone, wondering what was going on.

Tony will be the one who answers the phone when you're in surgery, the doctors wanting to make sure the contents of your womb are completely out. He'll be the one who tells your husband that you lost your baby. Tony will be the one to tell him to stop calling. Before your friend hangs up, Tony will tell your husband that he caused this, that his infidelity direct caused your miscarriage.

In that time, you'll finally lose it. It's like you're finally reacting to everything. You'll be drowning in anger, in sadness, in sorrow. How you managed this far you'll never understand. Tony will bar your husband and his mistress from coming anywhere close to your hospital room. Your life is falling apart at the seams and you're losing control of everything. You're unable to sleep, unable to eat. The last thing you've had was your baby and now that he's gone-Well you don't have anything left. You just want all of the pain to end and you'll tell Tony that. He'll will be worried and he'll ask for you to be put into a seventy-two hour hold. While this is happening, while your brain is being picked in order to see if you're going to harm yourself, Steve will be throwing away the bloody bed and getting rid of the ruined sheets and blankets.

Tony will decide that you can't go back to your home you share with Steve, but you also can't stay with him. He has a baby and you just lost yours. It's not right for you to stay there. So instead he takes you to Asgard's new home. You'll be thousands of miles away from the home you had wanted to raise a family in, away from your husband. Thor and Valkyrie will welcome you with open arms, helping you transition into your new lifestyle as you grieve. Tony will handle the divorce proceedings and Steve will get a new bed. Your things will be packed up and sent to you and you'll be completely removed from your husband.

And when Bruce and Rocket come knocking on your door three years later, begging for your help, you'll be forced to make a choice. And you'll sit there in your tiny cottage next to Thor's, thinking about what to do. And then you'll agree to help because you want to bring back half of the universe. You love saving people and it doesn't matter if you feel uncomfortable, you are going to help bring people back.

So when that beautiful man with the baby blue eyes comes up to you after a mission, a million dollar smile stretched across his nervous face and asks you to go on a date, heed this warning. He'll be amazing at first, but it'll go down hill so fast. Know that you were never his first choice, you were the only available one.

If you don't heed the first warning and you do go on a date with the blonde man, don't marry him. The marriage is a sham, something you'll do a year after half of the universe turns into dust. You'll be excited and it'll seem like he's really happy, but he isn't. He just wants purpose again and he won't get it from the marriage. He'll emotionally leave you and you'll try to stick it out.

Being with Steve Rogers will only end in pain, so save yourself the heartbreak and stay away.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader

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badassbuchanan · 3 years

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No Goodbye (Part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: sadness and smut; I said it once and I’ll say it again, you will cry. Oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, soft!bucky, mentions of Steve.

Word Count: 8772

A/N: believe it or not I actually cut my original part 2 in half and it’s still this long lmao

also thank you so much for all your lovely comments about Part 1 - I hope you enjoy Part 2 just as much x

Y/N had a slight peace about her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t happiness, she wouldn’t go as far as to say that. But there was a minute pause in her grieving, and she knew it was due to her relationship with Bucky.

They had such a deep understanding, such a reliance on one another that had kept Y/N going through the most difficult time of her life. It was Y/N and Bucky versus the world, and she really felt she could do it with him by her side.

She’d finished a solo training session, finally trying to make a start on picking up the pieces of her life after Steve. All of her activities usually included a metal armed super soldier, but Bucky had told Y/N this morning that he was meeting up with an old friend. She didn’t think much of it, apart from a quick thought of confusion as to who this unknown old friend could be.

But she got her answer when she made her way through the kitchen of the compound, walking in on something she never expected to see. Her heart sunk into her chest, physically aching as she felt a hard wave of nausea and sadness hit her like a ton of bricks.

“I’m really glad you called.” Sharon Carter smiled up at Bucky from where they stood leaning against the counter, their chests inches apart as she moved her hand forward to rest on top of his.

Bucky smiled back at her, both of them unaware of Y/N’s presence. Her eyes blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling as her body went into panic, feeling like she was losing Bucky the same way she’d lost Steve. He was replacing her with Sharon.

Within moments, the progress it had taken Y/N over a year to make was washed away. She pressed her lips together in a hard line as she watched the scene in front of her, unable to control the unsteadiness of her breathing as wave after wave of emotion hit her. Betrayal, rejection, abandonment, heartbreak. It was all the same things she’d felt after Steve left. And she knew she wasn’t strong enough to go through it again.

The world spun around her, feeling like it was collapsing in on her. She was only stood there for a few minutes, but it felt like forever before she caught the attention of the two other people in the room. Y/N immediately shoved her head down and paced her way quickly through the kitchen.

“Y/N.” Sharon smiled sympathetically as she noticed the girl, it was the first time she’d seen her since Steve’s decision to leave. Bucky’s head lifted to watch Y/N as he stood up a little straighter, his heart immediately sinking with concern as he noticed her saddened face.

“Hey.” Y/N glanced quickly over at the pair, faking a smile as she focused on getting to the hallway on the other side. It hurt her so much to see Bucky close to Sharon, of all people. But if anything, she understood. Sharon was the typical “American sweetheart” type. She had the looks, the body, the personality, she had it all. She even had Steve, and now Bucky too.

“Y/N” Bucky’s voice dropped with sadness as he desperately wanted to run to her in that moment, to hold her and tell her everything was okay. Because that’s what he did, whenever she needed him, he was there.

“Please excuse me.” She whimpered weakly, her head dropping down again as she did her best to avoid Bucky. She did her best to hold back her emotions until she reached the exit to the hallway, unable to contain her tears any longer.

A loud sob escaped her lips as soon as she was out of the room, her hand smacking over her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her body trembled, almost collapsing against the wall with weakness as her eyes clouded with tears. She was losing Bucky.

She let her bedroom door close behind her, almost screaming in uncontrollable sadness as she felt her heart break. She crawled onto the bed, once again trying to make sense of what was happening to her. It didn’t take her long to find the common denominator in the problems, it was her. She wasn’t good enough, she was unlovable, Steve had realised it and now, so had Bucky. Her heart thudded against her chest, an overwhelming sense of aloneness washed over her heated body.

She sighed deeply, trying to steady her breathing as she laid on her side, curling her body up into a ball. She let out her tears now that she was alone, her hand clutching a fist into her pillow as her body ached in pain. Her cries came out as loud heaving breaths, her eyes squeezing shut so tightly that she started seeing black.

“Steve,” She whispered shakily as she sobbed, as if he would be able to hear her somehow. It was the second time she’d said his name since he’d left her, her bottom lip trembling as she succumbed to the sadness. “I just wish you were here.” She admitted as the mattress shook with her deep cries, the unbearable pain making it impossible for her to stop the tears from falling.

She sniffed between cries, her cheeks reddening from the salty streams of liquid running down her face. “I’m all alone again.” She whispered sadly, a pout on her lips as she furrowed her eyebrows in a frown of hurt.

Somewhere along the line Y/N had come to accept the fact that Bucky was everything she had now, that it was just going to be the two of them forever because no one else could ever understand them like they did each other. She liked the idea of it just being the two of them, it made her feel safe. But then again, she believed that Steve would be with her forever once upon a time.

Her heart ached as she realised that one day he would leave her, just like Steve did. That he would move on with his life and she would be left to go on without him. That one day Bucky would find himself a girl that wasn’t her, someone like Sharon, or even Peggy. Someone pretty and strong and worthy of their love. And that terrified her, being left alone again, this time without Bucky to help her through. She couldn't, she wouldn’t survive waking up one day and finding that he was gone.

Her survival instinct kicked in, coming to the conclusion that the only way to stop herself from getting hurt again was to block Bucky out. To push him away completely. She couldn’t let him in anymore than she already had, not when he was going to leave. She hated the fact that she’d opened up to him so much already, trusted him enough to think he’d stay with her forever.

The soft knock on her door brought her back from her thoughts, her eyes closing tightly as she pulled the pillow down to hug it against her chest, where Bucky would usually be.

“Go away.” She mumbled softly, hearing the door open with a squeak from behind her. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, she didn’t want to see anyone, she just wanted to be alone, like she would be for the rest of her life.

“Doll, it’s just me.” Bucky’s voice almost whispered as he arched his eyebrows sadly. Even though she was facing away from him he knew she’d been crying. His heart broke watching the way she was curled up so small on the bed, wishing he’d been there sooner to comfort her.

“I said go away.” She repeated with a little more sternness in her tone. She squeezed the pillow tightly, her heart hardening towards the super soldier as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes again. She didn’t want him near her, she didn’t want to get used to the feeling of him holding her. She didn’t want to be able to miss him. She didn’t want to feel anything anymore, it was easier that way.

“Hey, it’s okay to be sad. I still miss him too.” Bucky’s soft tone was slightly soothing to her, which only caused her to harden her heart even more. She heard him move closer to the bed, wanting to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay like he usually did. She tried to ignore him, a sudden wave of numbness evolved from her pain.

Bucky’s throat felt like it was closing up, his breathing shaky as his eyes welled up with tears. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t want him here. She always wanted him here. He always wanted to be here.

Panic flooded through his body as his jaw clenched with sadness, looking towards the ceiling as he tried to reason why she was pushing him away. He stepped forward, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he desperately tried to get her to let him comfort her.

She flinched when she felt the bed dip with his weight behind her, letting out a shaky breath as she closed herself off to him. It hurt, but it wouldn’t hurt so much when he told her he was in love with Sharon, or when he left without saying goodbye.

“Y/N, c’mon.” He sniffed quietly, his eyes pleading as he tugged on her hip to get her to face him. He couldn’t make sense of the situation, tears streaming down his face as he tried to get her to come back to him. He couldn’t lose her, she was all he had. He didn’t know what to do, she’d given his life meaning in his darkest hours, she was his light, guiding him home. But the way she was pushing him away made him him feel lost in a sea of black.

Y/N sighed, full of numbness as she rolled over to face him. Her eyes slowly glanced up at his face, her teeth clenching together as she felt her heart ache, trying to ignore how sad and confused Bucky looked.

“Just go away, Bucky.” She mumbled emotionlessly, her eyes stinging from all the tears she’d cried as dropped them away to avoid his stare. She thought back to what she’d seen in the kitchen, a sharp pain tingling through her chest as she moved her hand down to push Bucky’s arm off of her. “I’ll be fine.”

“Please.” He whispered sadly, scared of how she was pushing him away. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. She was everything to him. She’d never rejected him like this before, and Bucky was panicking, not knowing how to fix her pain. “I don’t want you being alone when you’re sad.”

His comment pushed her over the edge, her numbness replaced with anger as she shifted her eyes to look up at him. “Well I can’t rely on you forever, can I?” she snapped, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown as she watched Bucky’s face soften. He flinched at her words, his head dropping as he tried to hide his pain.

He stayed silent, unsure of what was going through her head. He thought if he didn’t speak, she’d let him at least stay near her. That way he could still make sure she was okay. He didn’t understand why she was pushing him away when she’d usually be so open.

“God, you’re not listening to me,” She sighed in frustration, her chest tightening as she felt another wave of pain washing over her. “I don’t want you here.” She growled through gritted teeth, her blood boiling as he refused to listen to her. She lifted herself up to sit on the bed as she shoved her hand against his body, pushing him away. “Go!” She yelled, full of pain as she shoved him again.

Bucky’s heart broke as he felt her weak hand pushing him away, his body moving as she continued to shove him. He heard the raw pain in her voice, his tears dropping down onto his shirt, as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to wake up from this nightmare.

“Y/N” He sobbed out her name, trying to bring his girl back to him. Her words pained him like a dagger through his heart, his chest heaving as he felt like he was losing the only person he had left in the world.

“Just leave me alone.” She whimpered out, her anger melting into sadness as she begged him to leave. She wanted more than anything to be held in his embrace, to feel his strong arms wrapped around her, but it would be a false sense of security that she had to protect herself from.

Bucky sighed sadly, blinking through his tears as he decided to obey her wish. He moved his flesh hand to wrap around hers that had been shoving him away, pulling her closer as he leaned in to press a kiss on her forehead.

Y/N melted into his touch for just a moment, both of them revealing in the calmness their closeness brought them before the memory of Sharon’s hand on his flooded through her brain. She immediately leaned away from him, tugging her hand out of his grip as she kept her eyes down, silently rolling over to face away from him as her head hit the pillow.

Bucky’s chest collapsed beneath his skin as he watched her shut him out, his eyebrows arching as he bit the inside of his lip. He felt so torn, wanting to give her what she wanted as well as holding her close and comforting her, something that always made both of them feel better.

“I’m just down the hall if you need me.” He whispered shakily, secretly hoping she would change her mind as he pushed himself up off the bed. He walked towards the door, hearing the gentle sobs of the girl behind him. His heart ached to be with her, but he forced himself out of the room to give her the space she wanted.

Bucky felt like he was losing her, pressing his back against the wall in the hallway next to her door as his head fell back. A sudden guilt washed over him as he panicked, had she found out the truth? Is that why she was pushing him away? No, it couldn’t be. The only person who knew that was him. Well, the only person here, anyway. His heart sunk as he heard her crying, his own tears flooding freely down his burning cheeks. He hoped that she’d come back to him soon, because he already felt so alone in a world so big.

Y/N cried harder once she heard the door close behind him, the emptiness of the room consumed her. As she laid there in the silence, all by herself, she got a glimpse of how lonely the rest of her life would be, and it only made her miss Steve more than she had done in a long time.

---

“What do I have to do?” Y/N asked nervously as she laid back on her bed just as Wanda had instructed her to. She looked over at the auburn haired witch from where she sat next to Y/N on the edge of the bed.

“Just relax,” Wanda whispered soothingly waving her hands around an invisible force as a crimson dust came to life. Her eyes glowed bright red as she stared intensely at the lying girl, slipping into her thoughts. “Let your heart speak for itself.”

Y/N breathed shakily, closing her eyes as she followed Wanda’s directions, the world around her swirling as the Scarlett Witch flicked her fingers towards Y/N, the red glow zooming through the air to delve into her mouth and nostrils.

Y/N gasped softly as she felt the supernatural force wash over her body, her heart racing as the magic flooded through her veins. She responsively opened her eyes, her pupils glowing red as Wanda smiled softly, knowing the spell had worked.

The room felt slightly different as Y/N sat up on the bed, noticing that Wanda was nowhere to be seen. Technically Wanda was still in the room, the spell just made Y/N unable to see her. Y/N scanned the silent room, everything was exactly as it should be, not a single detail out of place.

But the scent was different, it was familiar, but it was something Y/N hadn’t inhaled in a while. Before she had time to properly analyse the situation, the bedroom door opened and Y/N’s heart almost burst with emotion. Steve Rogers, dressed in a 40′s style army uniform, his hair neatly combed and his face freshly shaven, his blue eyes glowing in the light of the room.

“Steve.” She whispered as air got caught in her lungs, almost choking as she watched her boyfriend walk into the bedroom, a giant smile on his face. Time froze for Y/N as she looked him up and down in disbelief, watching him drop a duffle bag to the floor as he held his arms open.

“Miss me?” Hearing his voice for the first time in what seemed like forever made Y/N’s eyes well up with happy tears, letting out a shaky breath as she quickly climbed off of the bed. She raced towards him, almost jumping into his arms as she thudded her chest against his.

“Woah, there’s my best girl.” Steve chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he let his chin rest against her head. She closed her eyes, inhaling his scent as a flood of relief and happiness washed over her. “I got back as soon as I could.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” She sighed in contentment, hoping to stay in this moment with him forever. His hand rubbed up and down her back soothingly, his strong muscles caging her in as the rest of the world disappeared around her.

It felt as if Y/N blinked, finding them laying beside each other on the bed as she opened her eyes again. She didn't question it, breathing softly as she admired his gorgeous face. She let her fingers lift up to trace over Steve’s smiling face, the one she was more than familiar with. She frowned momentarily, slightly confused as to why she couldn’t feel him, even though she was touching him. He wasn’t warm under her fingertips, there was no life to his skin, as if she were touching an inanimate object.

“I missed you too.” He whispered reassuringly before she could properly question it, Steve gave her a soft smile as he pulled her closer against his chest. She watched him take her hand on his face into his, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles as his blue eyes stayed glued on hers.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky’s angry voice made Y/N jump slightly, looking over Steve’s shoulder as Bucky stormed through her open bedroom door. “Get away from her, now!” He barked, his eyes fixed behind where Y/N lay.

“Bucky?” Y/N frowned in confusion, startled by his entrance as she sat up on the bed, his intrusion caused her mind to stop focusing on Steve. Wanda tilted her head curiously, ignoring Bucky’s yellimg as she focused on Y/N’s awareness of the metal armed soldier. Y/N could see him under the spell.

Y/N locked eyes with the furious super soldier, a flood of panic washing over his face as he looked at her glowing red eyes. The magical facade shattered as she followed her gaze to where he was previously looking, finding Wanda standing over by the window.

“Get out of her head right now or I swear to god-” Bucky spat in a seething rage, he knew exactly what Wanda had been doing when he heard Y/N say Steve’s name. He knew what she was capable of, how she’d coped with her own grief after Vision’s death. He also knew that she could see into people’s pasts. His protectiveness towards Y/N came across as possessiveness as his body went into panic about what Wanda might’ve uncovered inside the girl’s mind.

“You need to calm down Barnes!” Wanda snapped back at the metal armed man, causing his eyes to darken in fury. He had spent the past year and a half holding Y/N, soothing Y/N, comforting Y/N, reassuring Y/N. He couldn’t watch Wanda undo all of Y/N’s progress over a stupid magic experiment.

“Do you know what this is doing to her?” He yelled at the auburn haired woman as Y/N sat quietly on the bed, shocked at Bucky’s anger and saddened that Steve had disappeared with the magic. She hugged her knees to her chest, waves of uncontrollable sadness washing over her as she dropped her head into her lap, the loneliness was back. “Do you understand how harmful this could be to her processing her grieving?”

“Bucky, stop.” Y/N mumbled through trembling lips, she couldn’t take it anymore. The sorrow, the fighting, the heartache, the loneliness. She hated feeling like this, but more than that, she hated seeing him like this.

Wanda bit her tongue, her eyes narrowing at him as she realised he didn’t have the slightest clue what was going on. She crossed her arms, letting him carry on with his outburst. Anger boiled up inside of her, but she controlled it, noticing how upset Y/N had become.

“What if she decides she likes it a bit too much in that little dream world you created, huh?” Bucky continued, pacing up and down as Y/N sighed deeply, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as if that would make all of this somehow stop.

“She knows she can’t stay there fore-” Wanda tried to defend herself, her eyebrows raising as she rolled her eyes, not surprised that the hysterical former hydra assassin cut her off.

“What if she loses her grip on reality, Wanda?” He screamed, throwing his arms up in the air as he felt himself losing control of his anger. His eyes sent daggers at the Sokovian avenger, not noticing the effect his shouting was having on Y/N.

Y/N cried softly, she’d never seen him this worked up before, it was scaring her. She didn’t know what to do, her chest heaved as her body defaulted into a panic, watching Bucky’s blurry form through her tears. “Please, Bucky-”

“What if it sends her fucking insane?” Bucky felt his blood boiling as his metal arm whirred into action, swiping the potted plant from her desk in one swift motion, a loud crashing sound echoed through the room as it smashed onto the floor.

The sound made Y/N flinch, she wasn’t scared of Bucky, she never had been. She knew he would never hurt her. What scared her was how emotional he was, what kind of regretful things that emotion would make him do, like shout at Wanda.

“We’re all struggling to move on from Steve leaving, but dragging Y/N into some kind of fucked up dreamland-”

“Bucky, I asked her to do it!” Y/N finally broke, yelling at the super soldier through a desperate cry as she tilted her head to look up at him. The room immediately fell silent, Bucky’s eyes softening with pain as he looked over to where she was on the bed.

Her eyes were red and puffy, tears streaming down her face. Her lips pressed together in a pout, she looked so helpless, like a tiny animal caught in a trap.

His chest tightened in disbelief, his hands balling into fists as he stood there, unsure of what to do. His eyebrows arched, as if he were silently asking her if she was telling the truth. Bucky shook his head softly in disbelief, he wanted to go to her, but she’d pushed him away last time and he didn’t want it to happen again.

Wanda’s eyes flickered between the two, the tension in the air becoming unbearable as she watched them sympathetically. She felt as though she were intruding on a private moment, a sudden awkwardness filling her body as she started to make her way across the room. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” She spoke softly as she reached the door, closing it behind her as Bucky’s head turned towards where she’d left, checking to make sure they were alone.

Bucky sighed out sadly, a thousand thoughts running through his mind as his head dropped towards the floor. He pressed his hands into his hips, his eyebrows furrowing in sadness as he felt more tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“You didn’t have to go off at her like that.” Y/N mumbled in a soft voice followed by a sniff from where she sat, still hugging her knees to her chest. She wasn’t crying uncontrollably anymore, now just solemnly falling into a silent pit of sadness.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky apologised sincerely, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky breath. He knew he’d taken it too far, that he let things get out of hand. But losing Y/N was becoming more and more of a reality, one that he was scared of.

Y/N chanced a glance up at him again, seeing how broken he looked caused a sharp pain in her chest. Her eyebrows arched sadly, knowing too well how he was feeling. It had only been a night without him by her side, cuddling her and telling her everything was going to be okay. But it was the worst night of her life, she’d spent the sleepless hours wondering if it would’ve been easier to let him leave than to push him away.

“Why did you do it?” He whispered weakly, his bottom lip trembling as his tears trickled down his cheeks. He couldn’t understand why she would want to put herself through the heartache of being close to an illusion of Steve, knowing that he would be gone again in an instant.

Y/N dropped her head, embarrassment washing over her body as her knees dropped from her chest, shuffling to sit cross legged on her bed. She hoped that if she just avoided the question Bucky wouldn’t press her about it, but she was wrong.

“First you push me away and then you go and do this.” He sniffed sadly, swallowing the lump in his throat as he heard nothing but silence as a response. He breathed out shakily, closing his eyes as he tried to think of what he’d done for this to happen. “I’m scared, Y/N.” He admitted weakly, running a shaky hand through his hair.

“I pushed you away because I wouldn’t survive you breaking my heart,” She spoke as she breathed out deeply, she’d never planned to tell him any of this, she didn’t want him knowing how weak and needy she was. “I asked Wanda to do this so at least for a few moments,” The air got caught in her throat, it sounded even more pathetic now she was saying it out loud. “I could feel like someone truly loved me.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched so tight it almost snapped, his face screwing up in pain as his tears flooded his face. It hurt him, hearing her say that she needed magic to feel loved when he was standing right there. Bucky loved her. Maybe for longer than he’d like to admit, but there was no denying it, he was in love with Y/N.

“Doll, the last thing I would ever do is break your heart.” He whispered sadly, still confused as to what made her think he would ever hurt her. “What the hell gave you that idea?”

“Oh please, Bucky, don’t treat me like a fool.” She shook her head, letting out an ironic chuckle as she looked over at him sadly, a sigh leaving her slightly parted lips. “I saw you yesterday in the kitchen with Sharon, your old friend right? She seems to be a big hit with you super soldiers, must run in the family.”

Her indirect comment towards Peggy had Bucky’s heart thudding in all kinds of emotion. She’d known about Sharon kissing Steve. She still believed that Steve had left her to be with Peggy. Was Bucky happy about it? No, but he accepted it because that’s what Steve wanted. But Bucky didn’t want this, he didn’t want her feeling like she was unloveable. He didn’t want her feeling abandoned and not good enough. He didn’t want her to push him away because she thought he was going to run off with some blonde agent.

“Y/N.” Bucky sobbed out her name, choking on the saliva that slid down his windpipe as he tried to steady his breathing. He lifted his head to face the ceiling, trying to gain even the slightest bit of control over his emotions. “Doll, can you just let me explain. Please?”

“It’s okay, Bucky, you don’t owe me an explanation.” She smiled weakly, trying to reassure him, although she wasn’t convincing anyone. The sadness in her eyes was unmissable, the trembling of her bottom lip evident as she looked over at him. “Maybe Steve did the best thing by not saying goodbye.” She mumbled as her head dropped into her lap, she wasn’t ready for Bucky to break her heart and tell her he was in love with Sharon. “Because right now it seems a lot easier than having this conversation.”

“No,” Bucky frowned in a sternness that surprised them both as he dropped his head to face Y/N. “Y/N I’m not letting you sit there and push me away because you’re scared I’m gunna hurt you like Steve did.”

Y/N’s eyes widened with innocence as she felt the shift in Bucky’s emotion, her throat closing around the invisible lump that shallowed her breathing.

“Doll, what you saw yesterday, was me sorting out business. That’s all it was. Me and Sharon spent a couple of hours planning how to keep the legacy of Captain America alive, something I’d been avoiding her about for a year and a half, which is why she’d told me she was glad I called. It was a work meeting. But I started worrying about how the hell I was going to talk to you about it, scared that you’d hate my guts or despise me for moving on too fast. So Sharon tried to make me feel better, her hand on mine, that’s all that was, she was sympathetic to what a tough situation I was in. She was trying to convince me that we could take as much time as you needed to be okay with this. But then you walked in, and god the fucking sadness on your face, it killed me inside. You wouldn’t let me hold you, Y/N. You wouldn’t even let me near you and it broke me.” Bucky body flooded with emotion as he spoke his mind, terrified of losing her for good. He didn’t hold back, laying everything on the line as he fought to keep her.

Y/N breathed shakily as she listened to him speak, his vulnerability kept her focused on his words rather than her emotion. She felt silly for the way she’d jumped to her conclusion without stopping to talk to Bucky about what was going on, without telling him how she felt. Because he’d been there for her from the start, and she really had no reason to not trust him.

“I’m so sorry.” The guilt hit her like a ton of bricks, for putting him in a category and judging him without any evidence. “Bucky, I’m so sorry.” She cried, shaking her head softly in disbelief of how terribly she had treated him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Bucky’s eyes started to water, his heart sinking as he watched Y/N beat herself up inside. “It’s okay, Doll, you’re okay.” He sighed out, trying his best to console her from where he stood. “Just let me hold you.” He blubbered out as his crying took over, his lip trembling as his heart longed to be near her.

She nodded weakly, outstretching her arms towards him, gesturing for him to come to her. Y/N was just as desperate to feel Bucky holding her as he was to hold her. Bucky let out a shaky sigh of relief, moving to climb on the bed next to her, wrapping his strong arms around her in an instant as they laid down on the mattress.

Y/N curled into him, nudging her cheek against his stubble covered jaw as her arms wrapped around his neck. She closed her eyes, sighing in contentment, feeling the soothing warmth of his body against hers. It was like she was home.

Bucky’s flesh palm rubbed up and down her back gently, feeling at peace now that her chest was pressed against his. Their breathing rhythms matched as Y/N’s fingers slid down to trace patterns on his right pec absentmindedly.

Bucky leaned his head back just enough to admire her face, so puffy and flushed from all the crying. It was almost as if all of their pain stopped, like they weren’t able to feel anything other than each other. “I missed you last night.” She whispered softly as her fingers tickled their way down his torso.

The corners of Bucky’s mouth twitched in a soft smile, his eyes softening as he hugged her tighter. He loved the way her fingers slid over his body so lightly, knowing she was doing it to test his reaction. “I missed you too, doll.” He whispered back, feeling the way her small hand pushed under his t-shirt as he spoke.

Bucky’s abs tensed as her bare fingers danced over his burning flesh. He was sure she’d be able to hear the loud thudding of his heart as her palm came into contact with his skin. Y/N’s thumb rubbed delicately over the muscle of his bare pec, her eyes lighting up a little at the intimate nature of the touch.

Their new level of intimacy had Y/N slightly drunk on happiness, butterflies fluttering deep within her abdomen as she melted into Bucky’s arms. “Is it selfish of me to want to stay like this with you forever?” She whispered softly, her eyes flickering back and forth from his chest to meet his gaze.

Bucky felt his heart grow with a bursting delectation, her words floating through his ears like his favourite song. “No,” He smiled by pressing his lips together in a line as they locked eyes. Bucky’s metal hand moved up to cup her cheek, his prosthetic thumb gliding back and forth along her cheek bone. “Not when I want to stay like this with you forever too.”

Y/N closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh of pleasure as she pressed her cheek further into Bucky’s touch. Her fingers traced over the section where his flesh fused with his metal shoulder, taking her time to feel every mark on his skin. Bucky’s heartbeat quickened as he noticed how unfazed she was by his biggest insecurity, gazing deeply into her eyes as her eyelids fluttered open.

Something in that moment connected them even deeper than before, even deeper than Steve’s absence had. They both leaned in, lost in the thick cloud of tension as they closed the gap between them, their lips touching for the very first time.

It was soft, sweet and short. Y/N licked her lips nervously as she looked deeply into Bucky’s crystal blue eyes, a sudden anxiety of being rejected by him flooded over her.

Bucky breathed out shakily as his lips curled into a smile, overwhelmed with emotion as he felt her kiss him for the first time. He used his metal hand on her cheek to pull her lips back onto his, already intoxicated with a euphoric feeling.

Y/N hummed when she felt his lips on hers again, her hand twisting to hold the back of his head as Bucky’s flesh hand slid down to pull her closer by the small of her back.

She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, reveling in the feeling of his prickly stubble gently scratching her skin. Bucky pulled her body flush against his, needing to feel her as he desperately sucked on her lip.

Y/N opened her mouth for him, feeling his warm tongue take the hint and slide into her mouth. She moaned softly, lifting one of her thighs over his hip as she sucked on his wet muscle. Bucky breathed heavily through his nose, feeling his cock stirring in his pants as they succumbed to their inevitable connection.

“I can’t lose you, Bucky.” She whimpered suddenly between kisses, tugging on his hair softly to pull his lips harder onto hers. A groan erupted from Bucky’s throat as his roamed over her body, trying to explore every part of her. “I can’t.”

“I’m right here, doll.” He whispered reassuringly as he pulled back from the kiss, guiding her head up to look at him as he pressed his lips against hers again in a slow peck. “I’m right here.” He repeated, wanting to take his time and make sure she knew he was sincere.

She left desperate, open mouthed kisses on his lips, letting soft moans of satisfaction errupt from her throat as her pebbled nipples pressed against Bucky’s chest. She subtly rocked her hips into his, feeling her panties dampen at Bucky’s reassuring words.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, trying to control the way his cock throbbed in his pants at her erotic touches. He felt her nails scraping gently along his scalp, tugging on his hair as he began kissing her back.

His hand pulled her hip toward him, their bodies completely flush against each other as Y/N sucked on his bottom lip. Bucky groaned as his fingers imprinted red marks on her skin from where he was holding her hip so hard, taking her top lip between his own as his tongue teased her mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Bucky whispered against her lips, their hot breaths mixing together before his hot mouth travelled along her tear stained cheek. Y/N gasped at the feeling, her head falling back as her nails gently dug into the flesh of his chest. Bucky kissed along her skin, feeling Y/N nudge into his touches with a little whimper. “Not unless you tell me too.”

Bucky took the opportunity to roll Y/N onto her back, pushing himself up to straddle her body as he planted his metal palm firmly against the mattress next to her head. He used it to steady himself, to keep his chest against hers as Bucky’s lips reached her ear.

Y/N’s eyes almost rolling back in euphoria as she clung to him, feeling safe under his strong body. Bucky’s hand slid down to the underside of her thigh, lifting it off the mattress to cage in his body as her heel pressed into the bed beneath them.

Y/N felt the pool of wetness drip from her pussy as her opposing leg copied the action, letting her hips buck up to meet his as Bucky’s lips left a row of open mouthed kisses on her exposed neck. She hummed in satisfaction, her fingers digging into the back of his head as he made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time, loved.

“Bucky.” She whimpered as he discovered the sensitive spot on the base of her neck, his lips ticklishly kissing over it again and again. Bucky felt his cock throb after hearing her moan his name, a shiver of pleasure errupting in Y/N’s body as she squeezed her legs around him a little tighter.

“Shh, you’re okay.” He mumbled between sloppy kisses, his tongue grazing against her soft skin as he kissed back up her neck. His fingers dug into her hip harshly, feeling her rock against him needily. “I’m right here.”

“I need you, Buck.” She breathed out weakly, her head dropping back as Bucky left kisses up the middle of her throat, desperate to mark every single inch of her skin. “You make everything okay.” She whimpered innocently, lifting her head to press her lips back against Bucky’s.

Bucky held her head up with his metal hand, his flesh one sliding up the inside of her thigh and over her tummy as Y/N dug her nails into the flesh of his back over his shirt. “I’m all yours, doll.” Bucky pecked her lips softly over and over as he slowly ground his hips down against hers, trying to relieve some of the aching pressure in his pants.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, tugging on his hair as she moved her hands under Bucky’s top to hold the bottom section of his tummy. He responded to her movements, sitting back slightly to pull his t-shirt over his head.

The sight of the shirtless super soldier between her thighs had Y/N breathless as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Her slick drenched her panties, a coil building in her tummy as she grew desperate to feel him.

She lifted her upper body to sit up, her face inches from his chest as her hands palmed over the soft skin of his abs. She pressed soft kisses over his torso, drinking in the delicate vulnerability of the moment.

Bucky’s eyes dropped to watch her, feeling his heart melt as she showered him with love. He felt her fingers press lightly into his sides, as if trying to hold him close forever.

Bucky moved his hands down, sliding under the sides of her shirt as he slipped the material up. “Is this okay?” He whispered shakily, nervous to be with her in this way. He wanted to give her everything, to have her overwhelmed with pleasure under him, but he was scared that one wrong move would result in her pushing him away.

Y/N nodded encouragingly, her heart fluttering shyly as she watched Bucky pull her shirt up, tugging it over her head. He swallowed audibly as he looked down at her bare chest, she’d taken her bra off after it irritating her earlier in the day. Her nipples were pebbled in the cold air, her plump flesh perky against her chest.

Bucky discarded of her shirt behind him, pressing his chest against hers as he guided her back down onto the mattress. His lips locked with hers, veins flooding with passion as he delicately kissed over the fragile skin of her neck.

Bucky looked up into her eyes, a soft blush of pink on her cheeks as he let his lips kiss down the valley of her breasts. She gasped at the feeling, her hips bucking to meet his as his hot breath ghosted over her skin.

He grunted softly as his lips reached her nipple, kissing it delicately before he took it in his mouth. Y/N whimpered at the feeling of Bucky’s hot muscle swirling around her sensitive nub.

She played with his hair as he tugged her nipple away from her skin, letting it go with a bounce as he kissed his way to the other side, he would’ve happily stayed sucking her tits forever.

“So beautiful.” Bucky mumbled lovingly as he worked on her other nipple, missing the way that Y/N bit her lip to muffle her sounds.

He took his time on her body, kissing his way down her tummy until he reached the waistband of her shorts. Y/N sat up on her elbows as she watched Bucky between her legs.

He slid his hands up the inside of her thighs, stopping when he got to where they met with her dripping core. Bucky could smell how aroused she was, licking his lips as he moved his face closer to her centre.

He tugged the waistband of her shorts down, faced with her sweet cotton panties that hugged every crevice of her puffy pussy lips, pooling in her own slick. He flicked a glance up to her, and after seeing no trepidation in her eyes, he exposed her dripping pussy to him.

Bucky groaned softly, using the last of his willpower to control himself. She was so fragile, so soft and delicate on display for him. His heart pounded against his chest as an immense wave of emotion coursed through his veins, wondering what he’d ever done to be lucky enough to have her opening up to him like this.

He watched her pussy glisten in the soft light of the room, her swollen lips begging for attention. He closed his eyes with a shaky breath, her needy cunt literally drooling for him.

She watched him with lust filled eyes, her chest panting in anticipation. Bucky tugged her shorts and panties down her legs, not wanting her covered up for even a moment longer.

“You’re so wet for me, angel.” Bucky huffed out weakly, fucked out just by the sight of her. His cock was straining against his pants, desperate to feel her warm pussy around his cock.

Bucky testingly prodded his tongue between her slippery pussy lips, feeling her wiggle in shock above him as she moaned out his name. She could hear the sound of her wetness against his hot muscle as he moved his tongue further between her folds.

She gasped softly, her back relaxing into the mattress as he teased her hole with his tongue. Bucky’s eyes watched her start to come undone above him, his beard scratching the inside of her thighs as he rubbed his face against her pretty pussy.

“Bucky.” She moaned his name, the most delightful sound he’d ever heard. He hummed against her core, switching between kissing and tonguing her most intimate part. She tasted sweet on his lips. her clit throbbing against his tongue as she tried to control her whimpers. “Bucky, please. I need to feel you.”

Bucky responded to her words like his life depended on it, lifting his head from her centre and crawling back up her body. He pressed his lips against hers, letting her taste the sweetness of her juices on his tongue. She hummed into his tender kiss, her hand coming up to hold onto his muscular shoulder.

Y/N breathed out shakily as she nervously let her free hand wander down his stomach, their chests ticklishly touching. Bucky let his tongue teasingly play with hers, trying to control the throbbing of his cock as her small hand pushed into his pants.

He bucked his hips into her touch, nudging her hand further into his underwear as she palmed his hard member. Y/N gasped when she felt how big he felt in her hand, his skin velvety soft under her palm.

She wrapped her hand around his length, letting the pad of her thumb smear the dripping bead of pre-cum around his swollen tip. Bucky let out a soft moan against her mouth, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt his muscles tensing at her touch.

He moved his hand down to palm away the clothing that was covering the bottom half of his body, his movements now clumsy as he fought with the material. Y/N lifted her legs, digging her feet into his pants to help him with removing them.

He kissed her with an intense deepness as he kicked them off along with his underwear, Y/N’s hand moving up from his cock to hold the back of his head. Their hearts pounded with anticipation, their chests pressing together as they got drunk on each other’s love.

“It’s always gunna be me and you, doll.” Bucky whispered against her lips, his blue eyes locking with hers as he admired how innocent she looked under him. The vulnerability of the moment caught her off guard, unable to even consider the worries of tomorrow whilst he was holding her so close. “I promise.” Bucky pressed his lips against hers, his arm cradling her body as he slowly pushed his hard member between her lower lips.

The feeling of him filling her up proved overwhelming for the pair, loud moans escaping their lips as Bucky stilled, fully sheathed inside of her. Y/N breathed shakily, her finger nails digging into his hot flesh as she tugged his lips back down onto hers.

Bucky groaned weakly as he felt her pussy fluttering around him, welcoming him in so perfectly, like she was made for him. He glided his hips back, pulling almost fully out of her before sliding back in. He felt her hips jolt as his tip pressed against her cervix, in awe of how well she was taking him.

Y/N let her fingers scrape along his scalp, arching her back up to meet him as he thrusted in and out of her at a slow pace. Little gasps fell from her lips as she felt every detail of his cock as it slid deep into her. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head falling back against the pillow as Bucky gave her all of him.

Her gasps turned to whines as Bucky picked up the pace slightly, feeling her walls relaxing around him. A moan escaped his throat as he dropped his head to her neck, the action causing their chests pressing firmer against each other.

His lips kissed a strip from her ear to her collarbone, her nails clinging to the muscles in his back as she felt her pussy twitching around his cock. Waves of a tingling pleasure overtook her body, her juices dripping down to where his skin slapped against hers with his thrusts.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, her feet hooking together as she pulled him down closer to her. A slight glint of sweat covered Bucky’s forehead as he tried to prolonge his climax, his hands balling fists into the bedsheets.

He let out a shaky breath, fucking the love into her as she rolled her head to look into his eyes. Bucky’s cock twitched at the look of euphoria on her face, little whimpers of pleasure escaping her parted lips.

“Bucky.” She whispered breathlessly through hooded eyes as he pounded into her, almost needing reassurance that he was real, that this was actually happening. Because it felt good enough to be a dream. She was losing control of her mind, everything around her becoming blurry as she got lost in pleasure.

“I’m here, baby.” Bucky cooed her softly, his stomach doing flips at how perfect she looked, feeling her pussy clenching around his cock as his pelvis rubbed against her swollen clit with every thrust.

Y/N’s mind clouded over at the petname, her head dropping back onto the bed as her thighs trembled around him. She melted into the mattress, gasping in extacy as Bucky brought her to her orgasm.

Bucky moaned as her pussy throbbed continuiously, her core squeezing his length as her muscles spasmed violently. It sent him over the edge, the movments of his thrusts becoming rhythmless as his cum travelled up from his balls.

She let a loud moan of his name escape her lips, desperately clinging to him as ripples of pleasure shook through her body. Her pussy pulsated around his length, sucking him in and rubbing his shaft with her warm walls.

A grunt erruped from his throat as he shot his load deep inside of her canal, filling her up with his warm cum as she hummed in satisfaction. She could feel every spurt of his thick stream, mixing with her juices that were gushing around his length.

Bucky’s cock twitched as she came undone beneath him, her back arching to meet his as he pushed his lips back on to hers. He felt himself lose control of his body as she writhed in pleasure, trying to ride out her high.

Innocent little whimpers escaped her lips as she kissed him back, cupping his jaw in her hand as she felt his shaky breath against her face. Y/N could feel Bucky’s cock softening inside of her, subconsciously sliding out of her sensitive core as she kissed his swollen lips.

Bucky let out a groan of displeasure when his thick length slipped out of her, continuing to kiss her deeply as they both recovered from their orgasms. Their chests pressed together as Bucky’s arms weakened, Y/N’s legs dropping from around his hips to fall against the bed with exhaustion.

Their bodies were completely satisfied, mentally, emotionally and physically. They laid there, as they usually did each night, reveling in each other’s company. Although this time, they were also blissfully at peace with their new found level of shared intimate vulnerability.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch

@codyl-angdon

@marveljunkieee

@reindeer-loki

@fangirl-swagg

@abrunettefangirlnerd

@a--1--1--3

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

Rumor Has It - Chris Evans x reader pt.3

part 1 part 2

a/n - hey lovely people!! here’s the last part of this unexpected series:) happy hanukkah to thise who celebrate it and i hope everyone enjoys this<3 please tell me your thoughts about it!! also, the first bit is from the last chapter because it picks up right after it:)

Summary: You care about Chris, but there’s a chance you need to let him go.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: like one curse word, angst

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

...You vowed you were done with him, yet you couldn’t help but kiss him back, your tongues clashing in an all-too-familiar dance. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears as you forced yourself to break away from him, opening your eyes. Panting, you stared at him, your mouth opening, then you closed it and swallowed heavily before opening it then.

You didn’t know what you wanted to say. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

You didn’t know what you wanted him to say either.

Chris' kiss-swollen lips opened again, this time speaking up. "Please. Can we talk?"

Wordlessly, you mentioned for him to follow you into the building. You took the elevator in silence as well. You snuck a look at him from the corner of your eyes. He was looking up at the floor numbers climbing. Your heartbeat quickened as his gaze shifted to you and he met your eyes. You quickly moved your eyes away, staring at the floor, shifting your weight from one leg to another.

When you arrived, thankfully your friend wasn't home yet. You showed Chris inside, closing the door behind you and sitting down in the living room. He sat down next to you, and you scooted away, turning slightly so you could face him.

"Talk," you raised your eyebrows.

"I don't know what to say," he chuckled, a half-smile on his face, averting his eyes from you.

"You wanted to talk. This is your chance," your face was set, a cold stare in your eyes.

"Okay," his expression turned serious, "I'll talk." Taking a breath, he continued, "I'm sorry. I know fighting with you like that yesterday was childish, and I promise not to do that again."

"Fighting isn't childish, Chris," you chuckled bitterly. "That's not what I'm mad about. What I'm mad about is the fact you can't trust me. And if you can’t trust me, then… then I can't trust you."

"Well, I'm sorry, it's just… in my past, there were a few people that I trusted and I shouldn't have. And I'm sorry to say but what you pulled yesterday kind of resembled stuff they did."

"I didn't pull anything yesterday," you raised your eyebrows. "I had lunch with a friend."

"Babe, they're all friends until they're not, it's just-"

"No, it's not just," you were getting angry again, the feeling building in your chest, almost constricting your throat, "It's not anything. I'm not going to stop having friends just because you don't like it, Chris. Honestly, I really don't get why on earth do you hate it so much anyways," you shrugged.

He opened his mouth to reply, but you stopped him, raising your palm. "And none of that tragic backstory bullshit. You think I never got hurt? That's not a reason to treat me like you did. If you're hurt, you talk about it. You don't throw around accusations."

"I was hurt by what you did yesterday, and I'm sorry I didn't communicate it like I should've but-"

"Were you? See, this is what I can't understand. Were you hurt? Because to me it seem-"

"I was! You can't possibly know how I felt, that's not for you to decide," Chris cut you off.

"I'm not deciding. I'm asking you," you took a deep breath, "Were you hurt? Or were you just jealous?"

"Well yeah, maybe I was a little jealous, but-"

"I've heard enough. If that's what your jealous looks like, I don't wanna stay around for the hurt. Your issues are yours. I'm not your past, and until you can understand that, I'm not gonna be your future. I don't want to be." You took his hand and squeezed it between both of your palms. "I'm sorry."

"I don't fucking think you are," he chuckled bitterly and removed his hand from yours. "You know, if you don't forgive me, that's on you. But you could at least tell the truth," he got up and turned to walk away.

"I am telling the truth!" you got up as well, your anger getting the best of you.

"No, you're not. You know why? Because if you would'a forgave me you wouldn't break up with me because you prefer lunch with David. But if that's your decision then-"

"You know damn well that's not-" you sighed, tears of frustration filling your eyes. "You know if that was the choice I'd choose you. But it's not. Because this," you gestured between the two of you, "can't happen every time I go out to lunch."

"It won't, I already said that. I promise," he took your hands in his, looking into your eyes.

"You're a good actor, Chris. I just wish I could keep believing you," your voice was nothing but a whisper. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks now, but you didn't really care. Chris' jaw clenched.

"But this isn't an act. This is real," he caught into your hands even tighter than before, "I know what I want."

"Yeah, I know what you want too," you nodded, trying to hold back your tears but they just seeped out of you, "That's why I can't want you."

"So this is it? really?" he left your hands and they laid at your sides as he sighed.

"Really." You turned your head to look away, trying to blink away your tears.

"Are you sure? Because downstairs-"

"Yes," you turned back to look at him, "Please go."

"Okay. Fine." He raised his arms. "Just… is it him? Are you leaving me for him?"

"No," you sighed. "I'm leaving you for me," you looked him in the eyes, hoping he'll see, he'll understand.

"So you don't care about me? About us? Because if I leave, it's over."

"I do care about you Chris, I-" tears were falling from your eyes once more and you cursed yourself for being unable to stop them, "I just need you to go. I need it to be over. That's what I want. Can you please respect that?"

"Yes," he said, his voice wavering, and you thought you saw his eyes glisten with tears. But before you could see if that was true, he turned away, walking towards the door and shutting it behind him.

You followed in order to lock the door after him. The click of the lock made you release a sob you didn't even know you had in you, one that wrecked your body, but was still silent. It was just… finale. And even though that's what you wanted, you couldn't help but grieve what you just lost.

You will be okay, whispered a small voice in the back of your mind. You knew that was true, but the future wasn't strong enough to keep you together in the present. So you allowed yourself to break.

And you were there to pick up the pieces too. You simply didn't need anyone else. And you were okay with that.

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

since the original request said it ends with a breakup, i decided to go with that, but tell me your thoughts!<3

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#chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans angst #chris evans imagine

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all1e23 · 4 years

Text

Between the Stars [Pt.6]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death

A/N: Good news! We are finally getting out of the terrible sadness! As a reminder, we are back to reader POV for this chapter. This chapter has a slight flashback from the last night and picks up right where the chapter ends. Thanks to my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky for looking this chapter over for me. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

When Natasha showed up this morning with iced coffee and a box of doughnuts, you were relieved and a little excited -- not just because she got the chocolate fudge one you like. Natasha had yet to stop by since arriving home, and it was nice to see with your own eyes that she truly was alive and back home for good. There was always this unease until you could see a returning soldier in person; really see that they were home safe and sound, so seeing your old friend did settle a tiny part of the restlessness in your heart. And outside of the random visits from Wanda before Bucky came home, you haven’t seen much of your friends and family. It all felt forced when you did manage a visit with them and after a few weeks of exhausting lunches and house calls, you simply stopped answering your door and left your phone on silent. It took too much energy to pretend, and you didn't have that much to spare nowadays.

After caffeine and baked goods, Bucky mentioned he had a few things he needed to take care of, stopping by his mom’s and an errand or two with Sam. Despite having Natasha there, you didn't want Bucky to go. He's rarely left your side since he came home, and there was a sense of peace knowing he was only a shout away. It was nice not to be completely alone, but Bucky couldn’t be there forever, and you knew that. He would eventually get a place of his own, figure out what he was doing with his life and move on.

Just like everyone else was doing, everyone but you.

Sooner or later, Bucky would no longer live in the bedroom down the hall, he would get a new job, and new life, and you would still be stuck, unable to move past the life you lost. So, you let him leave without a hint of hesitation on your part. Natasha seemed to sense something was off because the moment Bucky left, she asked how you were handling everything and, more importantly, how were you handling everything with Bucky. You didn't love her spying on a regular day, but you especially didn’t like it today. What was that supposed to mean anyway? Why would she even bring Bucky into the equation? You didn't ask because you honestly didn't want to hear her answer.

You had enough to deal with.

Natasha caught onto your annoyance fairly quickly and changed the subject, leaving both questions unanswered. She could figure out the answer for herself if she looked hard enough. While the dark circles under your eyes had faded thanks to your nights with Bucky, you saw how empty your eyes looked -- she could solve that mystery without help. You felt bad at first. Natasha was only trying to help, but everyone was “only trying to help,” and no one actually helped. No one but Bucky. He was the only one that made you feel… well, he made you more than the nothing that’s consumed you for months on end. You were less numb when he was around, things felt less empty, and your chest no longer felt as hollow. You felt more like yourself, or whatever new version of yourself you were now. Without Steve, you could never be yourself again, but Bucky made you feel like this version you were forced into wouldn't be so bad.

The ice between you and Natasha thawed the more she talked, and you relaxed some. Your laughs were still forced, and the exhaustion a performance like that brought on began to weigh you down after a few hours. You were grateful when she said she had to go and pick up dinner for Clint -- Pizza and cinnamon twists from the place in town. At the time, you wondered if you could talk Bucky into picking you up some instead of cooking. But now that he was home standing in front of you with what was supposedly your piano perched behind him, all you wanted to do was shove those cinnamon sticks down his throat till he chokes.

“Hey there, Trouble. Sorry, I’m late. I had to make a stop.”

You should have known he wasn’t going to simply drop it, it didn’t matter that it had been months since you sold the damn thing. It’s not in Bucky to let things go. He had to fix things. Bucky stood there, waiting for you were sure was your reaction and when your eyes darkened, he appeared to expect it.

“How fucking dare you,” you seethed.

Bucky took a deep breath and braced himself as you crossed the room, barreling towards him with a look he’s only seen once before in his life -- the night he told you he was joining the Army alongside Steve.

“Who the hell do you think you are? I didn’t ask you to get the damn thing back! I don't want it!”

“Y/n, I know you think you have to feel that way--”

"I’m going to stop you right there, James. You don't get to tell me what I feel now or what I should feel six months from now.”

Bucky took a deep breath, and after a second, he corrected himself.

“I didn’t mean it like that, and I know you know that. I only meant-- All you’ve wanted to do since I met you was play, your dad bought her for you. I’ve spent more nights than I could ever keep track of, listening to you play on the damn thing. This isn’t about Steve. She’s got more than memories of Steve attached to her. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself to be a good wife to Steve.”

You wanted to scoff at the suggestion, but maybe you were punishing yourself. Even if you were it didn’t matter. You didn’t want it in your house. You didn’t need a reminder of all the ways you failed Steve, your marriage, and yourself. You didn’t need to be reminded how off-track your life has become and how sixteen-year-old you would be devastated to see the person you’ve turned into in Steve's absence.

“I don’t want to play anymore, and I don’t want any of the Goddamn memories.”

“Bullshit.”

You narrowed your eyes, but Bucky stood his ground and stared back at you, no hint that he was going to back down. Bucky’s always been different from Steve. Steve would have apologized, told you he could get it out of the house if that was what you really wanted. He may have even followed through with that if only to hide it somewhere until you came around, but Bucky wasn't going to do that. Yes, he was gentle, softer with you than with anyone else, but in moments like this, things were different. He wasn’t afraid to push back a little, to challenge you if he had to.

“You’re a stubborn ass, you know that?” you snapped back.

“I’m a stubborn ass?” Bucky challenged, brows raised, and a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Have you looked in a mirror, sweetheart?”

You weren’t in the mood for some cute verbal sparring match. You were exhausted, and you ached all over. All you had wanted from the moment you woke up this morning was a quiet night with Bucky, maybe watch some trashy movie that allowed you to forget for a few hours and possibly allow you to get some sleep, but none of that was likely now.

“Get the damn thing out of my house, and you can go stay with Sam. I don’t care. Just get out and leave me alone.”

You turned to head back upstairs, but your anger quickly resurfaced with each step towards the stairs, you swiftly swung back around catching your second wind and stomped towards him and Bucky was still standing there as if he expected you to do exactly what you were doing. You wanted to hate him for knowing you that well.

“You know, you have no right, Bucky. I am grieving in my own way, and I don’t… I gave it away, okay?! I don’t want it, and you’re an a-asshole for bringing it b-back and forcing me to relive it a-all.”

Bucky stepped forward when your voice trembled but kept an arm’s distance between you. He could reach out and touch you if he thought that was what you wanted, but he wouldn’t until he was sure it was okay to do so.

“You about done? Get it all out?” He asked, much softer this time around.

That soft heart of his always found its way back at just the right time.

“Yes,” you spat back, it didn’t come out angry as you hoped. You sounded tired.

You were just so tired of everything.

Bucky slowly reached out and took your hand, pulling you towards the dreaded instrument in question. You let him drag you towards the bench and didn’t fight him when he gave you a playful nudge towards the keys. You rolled your eyes but let your free hand land on the keys, one following the other as the notes consumed the stale air of your living room, you never admit to his face, but you already felt a little better. Bucky let go of your hand, and you stepped closer to make sure it was, in fact, yours -- not that you thought Bucky would ever lie to you or try to trick you like that.

He cared about you far too much to hurt you like that.

Bucky broke the tautness between you with an easy smile and filled you in on some of his trip. “You'll be happy to know the little girl I bought it back from said my hair looked dumb.”

You snorted.

“It does look dumb.”

Bucky grinned at your playfulness. That’s been showing up more and more as of late, and he was more than willing to encourage it.

”Now, you’re just being mean, Trouble. It takes a long time to grow it out. What am I supposed to do, huh?”

You looked up from the white and black keys, grinning as your fingers played on their own accord. No real thought to the rhythm, but it was clear it was one they have memorized.

“Fine,” you conceded with feigned exasperation.”"You look handsome. Happy?”

“Handsome, huh?” Bucky mused, that self-satisfied grin on his face as he toyed with your words in his head, and you couldn’t help but get annoyed. As if he didn't know.

“Oh, shut up. You know you're good looking.”

Bucky laughed suddenly, surprised by your words, and it made you smile. You’ve always liked that laugh, the one he gives when he’s caught off guard; his eyes light up with that spark, his nose scrunches up, and his smile is so big you’re sure his cheeks hurt.

“I ain’t denying it. Just didn’t think you thought so.”

Your fingers faltered, and A sharp was hit by mistake, piercing your ears and Buckys from the grimace he made. It’s been a long time since you thought of Bucky in that way, not that he hasn’t always been attractive, and he’s only become more beautiful as he aged, but standing in front of him now made you feel shy and uncertain for some reason. How had he not known you’ve always found him beautiful? This wasn’t something you should be thinking, let alone saying out loud. You shouldn’t see Bucky that way or anyone for that matter.

It was unfair to your marriage and to Steve.

Bucky shook his head as if he was annoyed with himself because he was thinking the same things you were, and he lifted his dusty black boot towards the bottom of the piano to change the subject or maybe to clear the uncomfortable tightness that returned to the room and forget their moment of disloyalty.

“Come on.”

You followed Bucky without protest; both of you slipped under the piano lying shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the unpainted wood on the bottom where your initials rested next to J.B.B. You ran your fingers over the slightly faded marker and smiled.

“That was a long time ago.”

Bucky hummed in agreement. “Another lifetime.”

“When you wrote that…” You dropped your arm onto your stomach and turned your head to meet Bucky's eyes. “Did you know this is where we would end up?”

“No,” Bucky opened his mouth again but quickly snapped it shut. He obviously wanted to say something, but some part of him, his head or his heart you weren’t sure, were telling him not to.

“No, Trouble. I didn’t know we would end up here. I thought-- I knew you would always be in my life, but I didn't think we would ever be here.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder and held your hand out, which he took right away. Your fingers laced together, and he brought your hands up to rest on his chest. Quiet settled over you, and you laid there, staring at the aging Sharpie markings. Things were so different then. If you could go back and ask the girl who scribbled her initials next to Bucky’s if she knew where she was going to end up in the next few decades, she would have told you with absolute certainty, laying right here next to Bucky.

She was ignorant and so naive, and maybe a part of you still was because for just a few moments it felt like everything would be okay, it would all be okay as long as you stayed here under your piano, holding Bucky's hand.

“Play for me?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence with a gentle whisper.

That wasn’t a strange request, and it’s one you’ve heard fall from his lips a hundred times before. When you were young and foolish, Bucky used to ask you to play for him all the time, and usually, you were happy to oblige. This wasn’t about that, though. There was a question in his voice that said he wanted to know this was okay, that what he did was okay and that you were okay because if you weren’t and you really hated having it back, he would get rid of it.

“What do you want to hear?”

You didn’t mind having the piano back, and it was only right that Bucky was the one that brought it home to you.

“How about the song you liked to play from that movie. Shit, what was it? Swallow. Eh, no. Shallow?”

“I hate love songs.”

Bucky smiled.

“No, you don't.”

You smiled despite yourself and whispered, “I want to.”

Bucky placed a kiss to your forehead and whispered against your skin, “No, you don’t.”

It was unfair how well Bucky knew you. He knew nearly everything about you. He knew you hated to be told when you were wrong when you knew you were absolutely right. Bucky knew when you were lying and when you were throwing up your walls to hide the more delicate side of your heart, only a few have seen. You pretend to be tough by saying things like that, so no one could see how gentle you really were under it all. It was infuriating and comforting to have someone who knew you inside and out, but it often made it hard to keep the broken parts hidden.

“I’ll play for you, but I just wanna lay here a little bit longer, okay?”

He knew most of your secrets; you only wished he would trust you with some of his.

“Okay, Y/n, We can stay here as long as you want,” Bucky promised.

“And then order a pizza?”

Bucky chuckled and gave the hand he was still holding a soft squeeze.

“If that's what you want, Trouble.”

You grinned but didn’t say a word, simply closed your eyes and let your head fall into the crook of his arm. Things were less scary when Bucky was around, so it was okay to let your guard fall for a short while. He would brave the dark with you if he had to, help you figure out what your new normal was and what parts of your past were okay to keep.

It made you feel as if maybe one day in the near future, everything would be okay again. At the very least, there would be pizza and Bucky, and that was enough.

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#bucky barnes x reader #past!Steve Rogers x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #alternate universe #military au #tw: military death #tw: death of a spouse #tw: character death

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years

Text

Guilt

Steve x reader x Bucky x Peggy

Your relationship with Bucky, Steve and Peggy was the worst kept secret of the war.

Everyone knew, even though you all believed them to be clueless to your love.

It was not difficult for people to find out. Many had witnessed the softer moments of your relationship. They walked in on innocent embraces, passionate kisses, and moments of weakness they only saw when the four of you were together.

Though, it was not to be said some people had not walked in on much more private, intimate, moments.

In 1945 those around Peggy, Bucky, and Steve watched the three retreat into their relationship after Y/N L/N fell from a train. Peggy herself had not been on the mission, but she had to watch her boys suffer in their grief. Bucky and Steve, unfortunately, had been on the operation, and they blamed themselves for Y/N plummeting from the train.

It was less than two months later when Steve and Bucky crashed the Valkyrie into the ocean.

Peggy threw herself into her work. She was a strong woman. Peggy refused to allow herself to give in to her grief.

It was not even a month later before Howard approached Peggy with a proposition. He offered to inject Peggy with the same serum he'd used on Bucky and Steve.

Peggy said yes, not giving it a second thought.

It turns out being injected with the serum came with consequences. It was 2012, and Peggy had not aged since 1945.

There were many positives to Peggy's immortality. Peggy had helped build S.H.I.E.LD. up and had become godmother to Howard and Maria's son.

Peggy had also been alive when Howard and Maria were murdered, leaving her godson orphaned.

In 2012 Peggy felt the wear of being alive for so long begin to take its toll. She was in charge of SHIELD and trying to ensure her godson did not do anything too stupid.

She had been alone for so long, never having anyone to truly confide in as she had with her three lovers.

Until 2012. When Peggy learned that they found Steve and Bucky. And not their corpses, but their living, breathing, bodies. She had two out of her three lovers back.

The three were happy. Steve, Bucky, and Peggy been reunited after so many years, given a second chance, but they were still mourning for the loss of Y/N. Peggy had years to mourn the deaths of all her lovers, yet she never moved on. Steve and Bucky had been frozen only two months into their grieving process.

In 2014, it was suddenly revealed to the public, as well as the three, Y/N L/N was not dead. And had never been.

It had been a torturous process, finding Y/N and breaking her out of her brainwashing. It felt like years since they started the process of helping her regain her memories and who she once was.

There were many days that it almost hurt too much to watch Y/N suffer as they attempted to help her. But, knowing she was suffering worse than they were was enough for them to stay. To help Y/N become who she really was.

And they did. The four did it together because that's all these individuals really had. The four had each other. The four were finally openly together, and everything seemed perfect. Everything was perfect except for the guilt they all carried.

Steve felt the most out of the four of you. When he was smaller, during the war and after, he felt more. He felt more strongly than all of you.

When you had fallen off the train, Steve took the blame. Though Bucky had been on the train with you both, Steve was the one to lose grip on your hand. He was the one who was not able to pull you back up, he was the one who failed to save you.

And not just from death. He was unable to save you from the trauma you were forced to live through for seven decades.

You knew how Steve felt. You loved him too much to not notice he was drowning in his guilt every time he looked at you.

And you were not the only one to notice. Bucky had, so had Peggy.

It had been a year since you fought your way out of your head and HYDRA's brainwashing, you felt you were stronger for it, but Steve still treated you as if you were a porcelain doll.

"Here, doll," Steve said, handing you a cup of tea.

"What's this for?" You smiled, kissing his cheek in thanks.

"Just 'cos." He shrugged. "Do you need me to do anything for you?" He asked you, taking a seat next to you on the bed.

"No, Stevie. I'm fine." You smiled, curling into his side.

"Are you sure? You don't want me to grab you anything? Make something to eat?"

"Steve, I'm not an invalid." You said, pointedly. Your mechanic arm had malfunctioned last week, and as a result, you'd had to send it back to Shuri for repairs. She wasn't sure why it acted out as it did, she wanted to be sure nothing would happen again.

So, for the foreseeable future, you would be working with one arm. You were managing very well and living life as you usually would, but Steve had been especially attentive. Especially suffocating.

You and Steve were watching a movie while Peg and Bucky were out for the day. It was when you moved to place your cup on the bedside you let out a hiss.

"Y/N? Are you okay, doll?" Steve questioned you rapidly.

"I'm okay, Steve." You assured him, rubbing your shoulder. "My shoulder is just really sore." You said, groaning as you moved wrongly.

"Take your shirt off," Steve told you, shifting on the bed. Not saying a word you did as he asked, well demanded, and pulled your shirt off. Steve gently pushed you onto your front and straddled your lower back.

Steve gently began to massage the area, causing you to let out a breathy sigh.

"I'm sorry." Steve breathed after several minutes. "I'm so sorry."

"What for, Stevie?" You questioned him, quite confused.

"I'm the reason you fell. If I had just held on, you wouldn't have been tortured for all those years. You would still have both your arms." He said, hands stilling as he spoke.

"Steve, I don't blame you for any of that." You told him, crawling out from under him.

"You should," Steve muttered, not meeting your eyes.

"I don't." You said firmly. "The train was not your fault. I fell, anyone could have. And you can't blame yourself for anything HYDRA did to me."

"But I could have saved you," Steve said, looking at you sadly.

"It's not your job." You assured him. "And I don't want you torturing yourself over things you couldn't control. You're not allowed to feel guilty for this. I won't let you."

"I don't think you can just tell me what to feel." Steve managed a laugh.

"Watch me." You smiled, taking his hand. "Steve, I'm fine. I'm okay, and I'm going to be okay for a long time. Okay?"

"Okay." He finally smiled.

Non-reader POV

Peggy did not feel as much as Steve did. Steve felt every emotion and let them take control of his entire being. But Peggy rarely allowed her feelings to take control of herself. Especially the negative ones.

During the seventy years Peggy had been alone, Peggy had spent her time building SHIELD up into the organization it was today. Peggy had focused her grief into attempting to destroy HYDRA. It was because of HYDRA she had lost the three people she loved.

After finding out the three of you were still alive, Peggy backed away from SHIELD to watch over the three of you. She entrusted SHIELD into Fury and his team's hands.

And then SHIELD fell. It fell into HYDRA's disgusting hands.

Everything Peggy had worked for, for seventy years, had all been for naught. With the fall of SHIELD, any real SHIELD agents had to run. Identities were changed, safe houses were at maximum capacity, and lives were broken.

Peggy, Steve, Y/N, and Bucky had all had to run. HYDRA was coming, and Peggy refused to allow them to touch anything else she held dear. Again.

The four had a home of their own that could not be traced back to any of them. They had kept the place clean, furnished, stocked with enough food, and drink to survive the end of the world, but they rarely had time to stay.

It had been a week since the four had arrived at their home. Peggy had enjoyed their slip into domesticity, they all had, but she was still punishing herself.

"Who's winning?" Bucky asked, appearing behind Peggy. Peggy was standing at the window watching as Steve, and Y/N playfully spared in the fro\nt yard.

"Neither. Y/N's pulling her punches, and Steve's trying to let Y/N win." Peggy hummed as Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist.

"What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?" Bucky questioned Peggy, punctuating the question with a kiss to her temple. "What are you thinking about?"

"SHIELD." Peggy sighed, not willing to lie to the man.

"Doll." Bucky sighed.

"I know, I know, I shouldn't make myself sick over this, but I can't help it," Peggy said, leaning back in his hold.

"Peg, what happened to SHIELD was not your fault," Bucky told her. "SHIELD was my responsibility. For seventy years, I was in charge, I leave for a couple years, and the whole thing falls apart. If I had been around, I could have prevented everything." Peggy argued.

"Peg, I don't know if you want to hear this, but SHIELD's been rotting for a long time. You couldn't notice because HYDRA are sneaky bastards, and it's their job." Bucky reasoned with the woman.

"I should have known," Peggy complained. "I dedicated seventy years to SHIELD, how did I not see it was crumbling right under my feet?"

"Because HYDRA is good at that," Bucky told her. "We know better than anyone what they're capable of. We know what they do, and we know how good they are at it."

"I keep thinking if maybe I hadn't backed so far off, if maybe I had kept an eye on SHIELD, I could have seen what was coming and stopped it."

"So, you're saying if you could go back to when you made the decision to back away, you'd stay?" Bucky asked her.

"No. No, I wouldn't be able to do that." Peggy shook her head. "I love you three too much to distance myself from you."

"You can't go back, Peg. What's happened has happened. The only way to go now is forward."

"Maybe you should start writing Steve's speeches." Peggy giggled, causing the man to also laugh.

"Better?" Bucky asked her.

"Much." Peggy smiled, leaning up to kiss the man. "Let's bring those two in." She suggested.

Bucky had a firm grip on his emotions. Always had. Back in the forties, Buck was the one always looking after everyone. He took care of Steve, who was forever sick, made Peggy take a day off every now and then, and he would always be the one to comfort Y/N after dealing with her mother.

Bucky was a caretaker. He didn't focus on his own emotions as much as he did with those around them.

"New phones for all." Tony declared, passing out a box filled with new Stark phones.

"Very nice, Stark." Y/N commented, taking one of the phones and passing the box down.

"I aim to please." Tony smiled, making himself a drink. "It's top of the line, not available to the public, and only for this team. It's got all the best features, and even better, it's got a holographic projector."

"Why do you need a projector?" Bucky asked, fiddling with the phone.

"No-one needs a projector. It's just a perk." Tony shrugged.

Hours later, Bucky was seated in the bedroom the four of you shared when staying at the tower. He was sat on the bed, staring at Stark's new phone.

The once glimmering, brand new item now had several deep cracks, and he couldn't get it to turn on anymore.

Bucky attempted to press the button one more time, and when it didn't turn on again, he threw the phone at a wall just as Steve entered.

"Buck! It's just me!" Steve yelped, jumping away from the shattered phone.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't see you coming in." Bucky sighed, resting his head in his hands.

"Buck, you just got this a couple hours ago," Steve said, examining the remains of the phone.

"Yeah, and it was fucking broken or something." The brunette grumbled.

"Did you tell Tony?" Steve asked, picking up the pieces and putting them on the bedside.

"No, I didn't. The phone was broken when I got it, I swear." Bucky said, looking up. "It's okay, I'll just use my old one. I know how to use that one, at least."

"Tony's phone isn't that hard to use. He had to show me how to use the projector feature, but it's pretty simple to use otherwise." Steve shrugged

"Of course, it's fucking simple for you." Bucky snapped. "Everything's always so simple for you and everyone around me."

"Buck, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I'm sorry." Steve said, going to leave the room.

"Wait, no, Steve, I'm so sorry." Bucky apologized, jumping to his feet. "I didn't mean that. I didn't mean to say that."

"Want to tell me where that came from?" Steve questioned him, turning around and folding his arms across his chest. "How long have you been bottling that up?"

"Too long." Bucky sighed, sitting back on the bed.

"What's going on, Buck? None of us have seen you in hours, and you've been in a mood since Tony gave you the phone." Steve said, taking a seat next to the man.

"I can't catch up. You and Y/N and Peg, you're all catching up so quickly. I get Peg, she was able to evolve with it. Hell, I even understand how Y/N can keep up. But I just get so jealous when I can't keep up, and you can." Bucky admitted, cheeks burning red as he refused to look at him. "I feel like I'm still stuck in the forties, Steve."

"Oh, Buck." Steve cooed, shifting closer to the man and grasping his hand tightly.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm sorry I'm acting like this." Bucky apologized. "I shouldn't be jealous that everyone's acclimating, but I am, and I hate it."

"Buck, it's nothing to be ashamed about. We lost seventy years of our lives, and we never spoke to anyone. We never addressed it. You're allowed to be slow with modern advances, and it's nothing for you to feel bad about." Steve soothed, pushing hair from Bucky's face.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked meekly.

"Positive." Steve smiled. "And I promise I'm going to help you. It'll be discreet, and no one will have to know if that's what you want."

"I'd like that Stevie." Bucky leaned over to kiss the man. "Thank you."

"Of course, James." Steve smiled. "But there is one thing you're going to have to do on your own."

"What's that?"

"You're going to have to tell Tony you broke your phone."

Reader POV

In the forties, you had been the most carefree. Never really caring what anyone said, apart from the comments your mother spewed, you didn't care what people thought.

You wore pants before it was accepted, proudly held hands with any of your partners, and you gladly got into fistfights in alleys with Steve.

You never felt bad when people would complain about how unladylike you were. You would never feel guilty when your mother would cry about how you would never give her grandchildren because you weren't going to attract any men if you wore pants.

You liked who you were, and each of your partners enjoyed how carefree you were.

After breaking free from your mind control, this was no longer the case. You weren't as carefree as you once were. Emotions ruled you, especially guilt.

Guilt over everything you'd ever been forced to do while under HYDRA's control.

Therapy had been a help. The therapist Tony recommended had helped you see it wasn't your fault what had happened. The therapy had brought back some of your carefreeness, and you were starting to remember who you used to be.

You had been warned from the beginning that it wouldn’t just be good days. There would always be bad days, it was just the therapists hope that they would soon lessen.

She was right, they did lessen. The time periods between the bad days grew and could be months apart from each other, but they still came back.

Today was a bad day.

As soon as you awoke, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy today. Everything felt heavy. Everything hurt. Even though it was a warm summer day, you found yourself donning a long sleeve shirt and usual glove.

You couldn’t stand the sight of your arm that day.

“Darling, you’re going to give yourself heatstroke. At least take the gloves off.” Peggy said.

“No, it’s okay. I’m not that hot.” You denied, pulling your sleeves further down as you grabbed a Coke.

“Darling you’re sweating.” Peggy pointed out. “Y/N, do we need to call Yasmin? Do you need another session?”

“No. I don’t need another session.” You said quickly. “I’m fine, Peg.”

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to lie about the bad days, Y/N.” Peggy said, moving behind you. “We’re here to help you.”

“Well you shouldn't be.” You snapped, spinning around. “You’re all wasting your time on me when you could all be doing better things.”

“Y/N, darling, that’s simply not true.” Peggy said, moving closer. “We’re not wasting time on you. We love you.”

“You love a murderer. A disgrace of a human being.” You scoffed, eyes stinging as you looked away.

“You did not kill anyone. HYDRA is responsible for those deaths, not you.” Peggy forcefully told you. “Y/N, we are not wasting time. We love you. We have loved you for seventy years and no matter what has happened to you, we are not running. We’re in this ‘til the end of the line.” Peggy said, stepping forward and grabbing your hands in hers.

“I’ve killed people, Peggy.” You whimpered. “I’ve killed a lot of people.”

“It wasn’t you, darling.” Peggy shushed you, squeezing your flesh hand as she took off the glove on your metal hand. “And we’re not scared of you. You don’t need to carry all this on your own anymore.”

Peggy took another step forward and pulled you into her arms. As her arms wrapped around your body, your knees gave out and you had to hold onto the Brit for strength.

“Do you want me to call Yasmin?” She asked you again.

“No.” You shook your head. “I just want you and our boys.”

“Okay.” Peggy whispered, pressing a kiss to your crown. “How about you head back to bed, think about changing, and I’ll get them from the training room?”

“Okay.” You nodded. “I love you, Peg.” You murmured, quickly kissing her cheek before walking back to the bedroom.

Guilt was an easy emotion. Everyone felt it, but not everyone got over it. It was a good thing the four of you had each other.

The four of you were the worst kept secret of the war, Avengers, family and each others. And only one of those titles really mattered.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr

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the-raven-song · 3 years

Text

Loki goes to Midgard in 1943.

He needs a break from Thor and his constant fights and getting dragged off with him. Besides, Loki had heard rumours of a great war on Midgard and that there’s a force seeking to dominate the world and Loki hates when anyone tries to steal the control of others. So he tells Thor he’s going on a trip of his own to find his own fight, Thor is overjoyed that his nerdy brother is finally becoming a warrior and doesn’t question it, and Loki uses one of his secret passages to get out of Asgard.

On Midgard, Loki starts taking down HYDRA bases on his own. HYDRA is no match for the magic and skill of a god like him. It’s not long before he comes across another team doing the same thing as he is, destroying HYDRA. The Howling Commandos, he learns. It takes some convincing but Loki eventually agrees to work with them on the condition that his name and face are kept a secret. He’s known as Loki, a slip-up by someone when a reporter was nearby, but it’s thought of as an alias. Loki tries to keep up an illusion after that, only letting his true face show when it’s just the team and himself.

He forms a bond with the team, one like Thor has with Sif and the Warriors Three. It’s not something Loki ever thought he’d have. Captain Rogers reminds him of Thor: strong, blond, and itching for a fight. Sargent Barnes on the other hand reminds Loki of himself, left to fondly deal with the blond idiot. It’s a nice feeling, having brothers in arms with a bond formed on his own, not because Thor dragged him into it.

Loki discovers his true nature as frost giant in the mountains of Switzerland. The freezing wind and snow against his skin suddenly didn’t bite as much and one look at his teammates told him it wasn’t just a feeling. Captain Rogers had stared at him in shock before shaking his head and focusing on the mission to capture Zola. They had already been on the roof of the train, they couldn’t stop to talk. But when they could, regrouping with the rest of the team, it wasn’t as terrible as Loki thought it would be. Sure, he’d developed a strong hatred of Odin with the realization that he’d been raised in a lie, but his team helped him accept that he wasn’t the monster he thought he was. “It’s the ones who do evil things who’re the monsters,” Rogers had said, and Loki believed him. Loki in turn gave a grieving Rogers a small bit of hope with the words, “Don’t believe someone is dead unless you have a body.”

Before HYDRA can fall however, Odin comes to drag Loki back to Asgard, furious with his interference in Midgardian matters. He’s banned from returning and watched closely, leaving him unable to return. But he sits with Heimdall and asks about his team, what’s going on, if they’re doing alright. When Rogers crashes into the Arctic, Loki knows. When the war is officially over, he celebrates privately, learning his name, his supposed alias, has become known just as well as his shield brothers’. When Sergeant Barnes is made into a weapon and Captain Rogers is frozen in ice, Loki vows to find a way back.

Fast forward to 2012, Steve can’t figure out why Loki doesn’t remember him. Loki knows him, but only as Captain America. Not by the stories and battles they’d shared seventy years ago. Steve doesn’t understand, neither does Thor when he’s told of his brother’s involvement in a Midgardian war, or the rest of the forming team when they hear the truth, but they are determined to figure it out.

They discover much quicker that Loki is being manipulated and controlled. How many times has Steve stared into those green eyes to look for the fear, hesitance, or ‘I just want to go home’ that soldiers often had? Only now, those eyes are an unnatural blue, the same blue of the controlled agents. Steve tries to reach his teammate. Talks to him onboard the helicarrier about missions they had and stories they shared. He’s disheartened when there’s no recognition in Loki’s eyes but Steve doesn’t lose hope.

It’s only after being beaten by the Hulk does Loki become free. He panics slightly at first, horrified and nauseated, but he gains control of himself quickly. While shocked to see Steve alive and well, Loki delivers the news of Sergeant Barnes’ status as his first words and his rescue becomes the Avengers’ next mission. It’s a quick mission, destroying the HYDRA base and getting the Winter Soldier out. Loki can see another’s memories through touch and when he does, the person sees those memories too. It takes some digging but Loki is able to unearth the memories HYDRA buried deep in the Soldier’s mind and the Soldier becomes a broken echo of Bucky Barnes.

It’s a long road of healing ahead of the three. For Loki, it’s the torture he endured at the hands of Thanos and the thought of the coming war. For Steve, it’s fully coming to terms with the fact that almost everything he knew is gone and seventy years had passed without him. For Bucky, it’s learning to deal with the history he’s been forced to paint.

It’s a long road of healing ahead, but they have each other and that’s all they need.

#mcu au #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #tom hiddelston loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #the avengers #the first avenger #alternate universe #what if

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stallingdemons · 5 years

Text

Deserve

Who: Steve Rogers/Captain America What: [Y/N] and Steve plan to return the stones together but [Y/N] has a better idea.

Part One | Part Two **Check out Part One if you haven’t read it first**

He was exhausted.

Actually, there wasn’t a word that could accurately describe how Steve felt. All he wanted was to finally be finished with their mission. He was worn out. Worn out from all the fighting, worn out from all grieving, and worn out from just existing. All Steve had left to do was to go back through the quantum tunnel and return the stones with [Y/N]. After that, he could collapse and rest for as long as his body would allow him. Steve needed time to properly grieve for the loss of his friends.

He needed to adjust to how things were going to be. Even though they had won, he felt like they still lost. He lost. He had lost two important people in his life that had become his family. Steve just needed some time to let it all sink in and go through the motions of adapting.

Approaching the tunnel with the case filled with the stones, Steve watched curiously as [Y/N] and Bucky whispered among themselves.

Bucky wore a look of understanding laced with sadness as he pressed a smile and nodded to the words that [Y/N] murmured. Steve couldn’t hear a single word from where he was standing. He tried to read her lips but the gentle breeze of the wind left her hair shielding her mouth, breaking up the words he thought he caught.

Steve watched as Bucky reached out for her arm before pulling her into a hug. He was curious to know what the two were talking about because Steve didn’t miss the tear that fell from her eye before she wiped it away. They were all still grieving but this encounter between Bucky and [Y/N] seemed different.

[Y/N] took a deep breath and turned from Bucky, her eyes meeting Steve’s. he could tell something was off, he could see it in her eyes. There was sadness swirling in them. The kind of sadness that wasn’t related to grief or a loss.

His brow raised, non-verbally asking what was wrong. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she tilted her head towards the lake. Steve nodded, turning towards Bruce who stood by the panel ready to send them off into the quantum realm.

“Give us a minute, Banner.” Setting down the case, he walked towards [Y/N] who stood by the lake’s edge. “Everything alright?” With everything that had happened, the battle, the loss of their friends, and the silence of the aftermath, Steve hardly had the chance to ask her how she was doing with everything.

It wasn’t that [Y/N] was choosing to ignore Steve, she just couldn’t find the words. She glanced over at him, still unable to figure out to say what she wanted to say.

His brows were knitted together as he looked at her. “[Y/N]?” Concern dripped from his mouth as he reached out for her. Matching her in position, his hand pushed back her hair, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t go with you.” She blurted, her voice shaking. “I shouldn’t go with you.”

“I don’t understand?” He pulled her a little closer, he couldn’t read the emotion behind her eyes. He didn’t understand the torn look between fear and sadness. “What do you mean shouldn’t?”

Her jaw clenched as she tried to hold back tears. Pulling away from him, she turned towards the lake. “I think you should do this mission alone...” Her voice quivered as she looked down at her feet,” ...and after you return the tesseract to Camp Lehigh...you should stay.”

Steve’s brows raised, “Stay? Stay in 1970?”

[Y/N] nodded, sniffling back tears. “Exactly.” Looking up into the sky, she took a deep breath in. “After you and I got back from retrieving the tesseract, I asked Tony if it was possible for someone to stay after traveling through the quantum realm. If staying in a different time would change the outcome of the time they came from.” Glancing over her shoulder at Steve’s astonished but confused expression, she gave a soft smile. “He said theoretically it was possible because the past you had already been frozen.”

Shaking his head, “[Y/N]...I...” Steve searched her face for any sign that this was all some twisted joke. She couldn’t possibly want him to stay in 1970, did she? Why would she ask Tony that? Could he? Would he?

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, [Y/N] wiped away a stray tear. “I saw the way you looked at her, Steve. It was that moment that I realized you don’t belong here...not with me.”

“[Y/N]...” Steve whispered, she couldn’t possibly think that he didn’t love her too, could she? He loved [Y/N] with every fiber in his being. She was everything he needed here. [Y/N] was the one thing that kept him fighting. Steve had no idea what he would have done if she would have vanished along with the rest. He was so thankful for her companionship.

Shaking her head, she placed a hand over his heart. “You can live the life you were meant to have. The life that got taken from you.”

Steve held his hand over hers, squeezing it. Closing his eyes, he sighed. “That’s a past life, [Y/N]. This is the present.”

“Your present could be the past.” She stepped forward, her eyes pleading him to understand the chance he was about to pass up. As much as [Y/N] struggled with letting him go, she didn’t want him to go the rest of his life regretting not going back. “Peggy could be your present.” She dropped her hand from his chest, “All you have to do is stay.”

His breath hitched in his throat at the mention of Peggy. He wasn’t going to lie and say that the idea of going back didn’t sound good because it sounded amazing. The thought of having a second chance at the life he lost out on was a dream come true but how could he walked away [Y/N]? How could he abandon a woman he loved for almost a decade? “[Y/N]...this is a lot to take in...I need time to think.” Steve caressed her face, “I can’t leave you.”

Jerking from his touch, a few tears fell from her eyes. “Yes, you can. Be selfish for once.”

“I can’t...I can’t just leave you, [Y/N].” His own jaw was clenched.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll recover.”

Steve didn’t believe her words, he knew better. “I’ll never see you again...”

“You deserve to be with the love of you life, Steve. I’m not that and I never will be, I accept that. I always accepted that. But, you have an opportunity to go back in time and be with the one you’ve loved after all this time. Don’t give that up.”

Steve took a step forward. He was at a loss for words, his heart raced at the thought of actually going to be with Peggy. But, he wasn’t so sure he could just walk away from [Y/N] that easily. “[Y/N]...you and I...we...I...”

She smiled through her tears, “I know, I know.” Her hand met with his cheek, “I promise you, I’ll be okay. It’ll take time. All I’d ever want for you is for you to be happy and I know this will make you happy.”

Closing his eyes again, he fell into her touch. “But, I’d be happy with you too.”

“I know you think that but you’d wonder if you made the right choice.” She dropped her hand and took a deep breath, “Just go and live the life you were supposed to have. Go get married and have children. Don’t come back, not for me, not for Bucky, not for Sam, not for anyone.”

Steve pulled her into an embrace, holding her tight and kissing the top of her head. He ran his hand through her hair as she broke down into tears. Holding her, he cherished the emotions he had felt with and for her over the years.

He was so sure of himself that he would marry [Y/N] when things quieted down. Steve found immense comfort in her. She knew exactly what to say and what to do. He truly believed that she was meant to be his in this new lifetime he lived. Steve had found someone that was like a Peggy reincarnate but now he was given the chance to return to the original woman who was made for him.

What was he supposed to do? He didn’t want [Y/N]’s heart to be broken. The last thing Steve ever wanted to do was hurt her. He’d never wanted her to be hurt. But she was right. How could he pass up this opportunity?

Holding her tightly for a few more minutes, he whispered in her ear. “I’ll always love you, [Y/N]. I’ll never forget the time we’ve shared.”

Sniffling, she pulled away first. “I’ll always love you too.” Wiping away her tears, she motioned for him to go back to the quantum tunnel. “Now, go.”

Steve nodded, still unsure if he really wanted to go. But after she motioned for him to go again, he walked towards the tunnel. Stepping back into the place he stood before, he nodded towards Bruce to go ahead and get it up and running. Bruce nodded and explained that they would see him in five seconds their time but however long it took him, his time.

Steve shared a look with [Y/N] before being pulled into the quantum realm. There were no words necessary to understand the look he gave her. Goodbye. She gave him a soft, teary eyed, smile and nodded her head. And then, he was gone. Her heart wrenched in her chest as reality set in. Her hand flew to her stomach as she suddenly felt nauseated. In all the years she had spent fighting in hand to hand combat, this feeling was a brand new kind of pain.

She had, had broken ribs and more but nothing, none of the damage that had been done to her body in the past could compare to what she was feeling at the exact moment. In her heart, she knew she had done the right thing.

Turning away when the five seconds had come and went, she held back tears at the sound of Sam and Bruce bickering over why their friend wasn’t returning. Closing her eyes, she tried to even out her breathing. All she wanted to do now was crawl into a bed and let the grieving process begin.

“[Y/N],” Bucky murmured.

Her eyes snapped open, “Yes, Bucky?”

He gave her a small smile, “You did the right thing.”

“I know but it still hurts like hell, you know?”

Bucky nodded. Sighing, he motioned over towards a figure sitting on a bench near the lake. “I think he might be for you.” Her brows knitted together. The figure looked awfully familiar. Her eyes widened as she looked at Bucky, it couldn’t be, could it? As if he read her mind, he gave her a smirk. “Go find out for yourself.”

[Y/N] approached the man slowly. How did he manage to time it perfectly? It surely couldn’t be him. That wasn’t possible, was it? When she finally reached the man, her chest heaved slightly. “Steve?” She murmured.

The man turned slightly, a smile forming on his lips. The wrinkles around his eyes creased as he held out a hand, “[Y/N],” gently guiding her to sit next to him, his warm smile brought tears to her eyes. “it’s been so long. But, I’m sure it’s only been a few minutes for you.”

Even though he had aged, he was still the same Steve underneath it all. “Yeah, just about.”

Steve chuckled. Still holding her hand, a calming silence fell over them for a moment before he spoke up. “I took your advice.”

“Is that so?” [Y/N] inquired, “I gave you a lot of advice over the years, Steve. Which one did you take?” She gave him a smile.

He threw back his head and laughed, “I can’t argue with you there,” looking at her, he spoke softly. “I mean the one about getting married and having kids. You know, living that life you said I deserved.”

[Y/N] nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek “And? Was it everything you hoped for?”

He leaned into her, nudging her slightly. “And more.” Sighing, he squeezed her hand. “All thanks to you, [Y/N]. It wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that. I struggled with not being able to see you again.” Steve frowned as he reminisced the moments where he had tried to adjust. It was hard for him to move on when he knew in his heart that [Y/N] was going to have a hard time adjusting with him. “But, Peggy, she helped me through it. Wished she could have met you so she could properly thank the woman who kept me in line until I returned to her.”

[Y/N] smiled, “It was my pleasure.”

Steve nodded, staring out onto the lake, “We had a daughter, by the way. And a son.”

[Y/N] followed his gaze, “I bet they’re wonderful.”

“They truly are. Couldn’t be any more proud of them.” Squeezing her hand once more, he continued to stare out into the lake. “We named her after the two women I’ve ever loved, [Y/N] Margaret.”

Part One | Part Two **Check out Part One if you haven’t read it first**

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thejuleselliot · 3 years

Text

the Flaws of ‘Wonder Woman: 1984′

Fair warning: I’m gonna go longform on this one. If you want to read an essay dissecting the failures of this movie, read on. If not...

...

I wanted it to be great.

After suffering various delays over the years, I was as excited as anyone else to see it. Unfortunately, when I eventually did, I was disappointed.

The film’s many problems essentially boil down to only one: it can’t pick a side. Steve Trevor is Diana’s soulmate, or he isn’t. Barbara Minerva is Diana’s friend, or she isn’t. And, most glaringly, Maxwell Lord is either a good guy... or he just isn’t. The filmmakers themselves don’t seem to know, but they expect you, the audience, to. None of this is played out skillfully, or with a hint of nuance.

It could be argued that the majority of 1984′s problems lie with Lord. While almost every commercial or promotion for the film portrayed Wiig’s Cheetah as the film’s villain, it’s obvious upon first viewing that Pascal has spades more screen time. But the fact is, Lord is never given enough opportunity to become a menacing villain because the film never bothers to take the time to paint an accurate portrait. The first time he’s really introduced to the audience is through the eyes of Wiig’s Barbara Minerva. The meeting is awkward, even cringe-worthy. You’re meant to find him charming, yet you don’t. This is an absolute failing within the script.

When creating a villain, a screenwriter needs to make a choice: the monster you fear, or the monster you love. In the Dark Knight, Heath Ledger’s Joker inevitably fits into the former category. Through the film, he not only murders Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend, he is shown to be completely unhinged on several occasions. The audience never questions for a minute that he will do anything and everything to create havoc in Gotham City. So, here, we not only have a defined personality, we have a motive.

For the latter, let’s look to Tom Hiddleston’s Loki in the first Avengers film. Loki is the charmer. Intense, but beguiling. The characters - and, by extension, the audience - is drawn in. Therefore, when he does do evil, it catches you off-guard. When he shouts, you listen.

The character of Maxwell Lord never gives you that chance. He’s been compared to the 80′s personality of Donald Trump, which is a apt description. The one issue of this, however, is that Jenkins chooses to give Lord a different dimension - that of a caring father. She can’t seem to commit to one side of the character. Is he a monster, or isn’t he? By the finale, you’re expected to believe that by reversing his actions, he’s proven what side of morality he’s on. However, without defining the limits of that morality early on, the audience lacks a personal connection to the character. A better version of the script would have eliminated the son entirely and committed entirely to a Trumpian parody, or eliminated the Trump-ishness and depicted a struggling, good-hearted businessman who allows power to corrupt him and ultimately chooses the right side in the end. Without defining clearer character boundaries, the audience is never given a chance to care what he does next.

Cheetah belies another narrative issue entirely. While Lord is complicated to the point of confusion, the script can’t seem to discern a motive for self-styled superhero Barbara Minerva. Her own introduction shows her being stepped over (literally) by coworkers at Diana’s work, the Smithsonian museum. Her supervisor can’t remember her name. Sounds bad, right?

However. It’s worth noting that we quickly learn that Barbara has started there only one week earlier. Yes, it’s pretty rude to be ignored or forgotten by your coworkers. But it’s not as if she has known them for years and still been treated this way. I wouldn’t expect a coworker or superior to have my name locked-in on week one. Barbara has started a new job, and the film never bothers to tell us what her old job was or where she's been since college. (We also learn, most upsettingly, that she has a series of impressive degrees - something we are merely told, not shown. With the exception of one scene in which she researches for Diana, she’s completely terrible at her job, and Diana constantly steps in to do it for her.) We’re meant to believe that it was simply fate that brought her to Diana, and to the path she is set on.

Quickly, Barbara proves herself to be a kind, if vaguely frenetic soul. That alone is enough potential for a lovable, Luna Lovegood-type character. However, by consistently ensuring that she is the most obnoxious person in the room, it’s difficult to gain audience sympathy. Early on, she’s attacked by a man while walking home, before quickly being saved by Diana. This kindness is forgotten, once she has successfully made Diana the villain in her mind.

Strangely, the film never really tells us why she goes after Diana so viciously. Outside of a power struggle, one from which Diana has nothing to gain, they have no disagreements, with exception of Diana’s generic, disinterested distrust in Barbara’s quickly-discarded love interest, Maxwell Lord. The Lord/Minerva subplot never really goes anywhere, burning brightly in snippets of the film’s first thirty minutes and largely disappearing for the next two hours. Jenkins decides not to treat Barbara as a woman manipulated, instead making her in charge of her own actions.

There would be merit in this, if it didn’t remove any or all motivation from Minerva’s story. Later in, Barbara seethes and makes several inane statements about being ‘special’ like Diana (during a battle, no less) and the film clumsily tries to assign this as her character motivation. At the end of the film, Barbara is electrically shocked in a way that would kill most people. The last shot shows her sitting on what appears to be a cliff, looking out at almost-Wakandan sunset, boldly copying one of Black Panther’s iconic final shots.

Another issue with Barbara stands with the film’s issues with character perspective. In the first film, almost every scene, with the exception of those with the villains, takes place from Diana’s point of view. This doesn’t work as well when employed in WW84. For one, unlike the first, the film is unable to choose a perspective. The first major scene set in the 80′s takes place in the eyes of a group of thieves who are never seen or heard from again. (We assume Lord hired them... this is never clearly stated?)

By doing this, the film suffers. Sometimes it chooses to focus on Diana’s rich and grieving state, still deeply affected from the loss of Steve Trevor. And when it does, it expects you to care. However, by choosing to focus almost equally on the emotional state of Lord and Minerva, it takes valuable screen time away from the woman with her name in the title. And all that time spent sympathizing with the villains is left wasted when the viewer struggles to find a reason to love them, and the film never tells you why.

The character assassination of Steve Trevor is its own failing. By removing him from his time, he is removed completely from his own motivations. He exists only to be a kind of spiritual guardian to Diana. He had not been brought to life by the film’s MacGuffin, it would have made little difference to his overall effect. Steve and Diana get a few moments, but they’re clumsily written and badly paced. By the end, Steve and Diana do part, and you’re left wondering why the script bothered to bring him back in the first place.

Then, Diana herself. The film opens with a woefully, painfully dull Olympic-style obstacle course, showing a eight-year-old Diana attempt to win. While doing so, she cheats, which causes her to be held back by her aunt, Antiope (R.I.P.). You hope this disappointing sequence will lead to a satisfying conclusion later on, but the only thing I could garner is that they were attempting to make a clumsy comparison to Diana’s eventual choice to leave Steve Trevor behind. (A bit of a reach. I know...)

Diana never gets much of an opportunity to be herself in this film. She performs several rescues, the first of which involves a long, intense eye-contact filled scene with a little girl.

(Who, in case you were wondering, does not come back or prove to be important later. A more discerning screenwriter would’ve had this child be Maxwell’s son, but... I digress.)

(There’s another grievance, there, and I’m going to take the opportunity to air it: this overstuffed, yet completely airheaded film takes time to tell us the backstory of a great Amazonian warrior. Do we ever meet this warrior? No.

No, we don’t - unless you count a post-credits scene where she is portrayed by Lynda Carter, who for some reason, could not be bothered to help Diana out when all of this mayhem was afoot. The part of this that annoys me most of all is that the entire backstory is created simply for the sake of justifying Diana’s new, golden eagle-wing armor, which could have otherwise been explained with four little words: ‘I took up metalworking.’”)

In conclusion...

agh.

#ww84 #wonder woman 1984 #wonder woman #gal gadot #patty jenkins #dc #dc comics #steve trevor #chris pine #pedro pascal #maxwell lord #cheetah #kristen wiig #barbara minerva #spoilers #wonder woman spoilers #wonder woman 1984 spoilers #essays #essay

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crimsonrae · 4 years

Text

Bear and Birdie

Chapter One

Summary: AU Howard only ever had Birdie to confide in as a child and Steve only ever had Bucky. So, what happens when more than just a supersoldier serum connects these people? Told in a collection of one-shots and flashbacks, rating subject to change.

Bucky BarnesxOFC

Rating: Mature

A/N: Okay I have this posted on FF and haven’t updated it in a... long time, but I’m going to post here and hope I find inspiration to finish their story, because they live in my mind and I love them.

Chapter One

1935 Brooklyn, New York

It was quiet.

But...it wasn't the world is just silent right now quiet. It was heavy, just shy of tangible.

James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to his friends, frowned at the silence unsure why the quiet unsettled him that morning. The sun drifted through the cloudy windows of Saint Catherine's Lost Home for Boys in a hazy laziness that only seemed to add to the heavy silence of the lobby. It was almost oppressive. He bit back a sigh as he turned his attention to the paperwork he needed to fill out, lightly twirling a pen through his fingers as he read.

Official release documents – at eighteen-years-old James Barnes could no longer and would no longer be considered a ward of the great state of New York.

Bucky had known this day would come, had known he would have to say goodbye to the only stable home he ever had. He had thought he would feel angry about this day or maybe sad. He had thought he would feel something more than a slight dread and muted indifference. Maybe it was the fact that he knew the orphanage could never be a true home, a place to come back to when life became too much as he grew older. Hell, when he had arrived he hadn't intended to stay as long as he had, it was just…it was just the world seemed to have other plans for him.

If he was being completely honest with himself, the orphanage had stopped being home over a year ago. Maybe that was why he felt so indifferent to this whole process.

The lack of funding that Saint Cat's had received in the past few years had caused Bucky to ease away from the system long before it was ready to release him. The parish fought for every penny to feed and dress the growing number of children under its care. Yet, he hadn't felt right taking those meals and clothes when he knew he could take care of himself. He had spent his spare time working odd shifts down at the docks and at various diners in the area. Whatever work he could find he would take. He probably would have dropped out of school, if not for his entirely too lecture-friendly best friend - Steve Rogers would drag him off to class whenever necessary. James smirked, he had graduate by the skin of his teeth and he knew it. School was for the smart cats like Steve, not dumb bastards like him.

Not dumb bastards like him.

The paperwork seemed to glare up at him in stark black and white confirmation of that thought. James sighed resignedly, not entirely sure where his head was at as he finally lifted his hand to scrawl messily across the bottom of the page.

It was official now – he was no longer a lost boy, only a lost man. He snorted quietly, somehow that seemed far worse.

A muffled cough disturbed the oppressive silence and made Bucky blink up from his release papers directly into the sad green eyes of Sister Madeleine. He had forgotten she had been waiting for him to finish. The old Sister seemed to fade into the framework of the lobby. Always a part of the structure, but infinitely her own. Bucky pushed a small smile to his lips as he handed her the papers. Neither seemed to want to disturb the odd silence of the lobby as they waited for the other to speak. They didn't have to – the sound of shallow steps and a light grunt caught their ears as they turned toward the hallway entrance. Bucky nearly rolled his eyes.

"Stevie, what're you doing?" James sighed tiredly as he watched his best friend trudge into the lobby of the orphanage carrying a duffel that was almost as big as him.

The shorter blonde sent James a pointed look that said he shouldn't be surprised. In truth, Bucky wasn't. He had half-expected Steve to show up at the boarding house with a room key already in hand. In their almost decade long friendship and adopted brotherhood there wasn't much that Steve Rogers could do that Bucky didn't see coming, "You didn't seriously think I would stay here with Richie Long and Herman Dutt, did you?"

Bucky didn't even blink at the mention of Steve's long time tormentors, knowing it was a smokescreen. He merely quirked a brow, "And here I thought you three had made nice."

Steve snorted, "There's making nice and then there's being friendly, Buck." He paused as he ruffled through his coat to pull out paperwork that looked suspiciously like the documents that Bucky had just signed before handing them over to Sister Madeleine, "Sides, it's not like I'd be staying here much longer."

Bucky frowned as Steve glanced at him with a sly smile and certain spark in his blue eyes. Steve had at least another ten months before his release papers would need to be signed. He pursed his lips in question when the light bulb finally went on, "You got it. You got the scholarship."

Steve nodded almost shyly and Bucky just about crowed. Somehow, Steve had managed to graduate a year early with Bucky. James hadn't questioned it. He knew how determined his best friend could be and that he was smart enough to understand all the extra work. But the scholarship to Columbia...The scholarship had been a goal of Steve's since they had started high school. Bucky knew it had to do with a promise Steve had made to his mother before she passed...but Columbia.

Suddenly, leaving Saint Cat's didn't seem as unsettling. He grinned widely at his friend as he snatched his duffel up from the ground. Once again forgetting Sister Madeleine's presence as he nudged Steve in the shoulder, "This calls for a celebration. Let's go get some breakfast down at Mel's."

"We can't afford Mel's." Steve stated dryly as he followed Bucky's lead, unable to keep his small prideful smile from his lips.

Bucky just chuckled, "I think Cassie is working this morning. She'll get us something. We're celebrating Stevie. Man, you just got into Columbia. You'll be rubbing elbows with the blue-bloods soon enough."

"God, I hope not." Steve muttered amused. He tried not to shake his head at Bucky's excitement. He hadn't even been that happy when he received his acceptance letter, but it was good to see that smile. He hadn't seen Bucky smile at much lately. Swallowing tightly as the duo stepped outside he reached into the side of his bag and pulled out an envelope, "Here."

James frowned curiously as he took the wrinkled envelope. There wasn't paper inside. The contents too bulky and hard in his grasp, "What's this?"

But even as he asked, his fingers were prying open the flap to let loose two brass keys. He knew these keys. Steve almost fidgeted in place as he met Bucky's sharp gaze, "Aunt Mabel never sold Mom's apartment... just packed up and headed home to Oklahoma after...well after. And we need a place, so."

"Stevie..." Bucky started, unsure what he wanted to say, but knowing he should say something. Sarah Rogers had died in her apartment after a long drawn out battle with a sickness that he could barely understand. He couldn't see Steve living there...not after everything, "We can find another place."

"Like where, Buck? The boarding house you've been going to?" Steve pushed stodgily, "A roof is a roof, right? I can deal."

"The boarding house ain't so bad." Bucky murmured tiredly, because he couldn't quiet see Steve living there either.

Steve shrugged, he wouldn't admit that he didn't want to live in his mom's old run down box of an apartment, but he also wasn't ready to sell it yet. He hadn't even finished going through her things and she had passed over two years ago, "The apartment ain't so bad either, jerk."

James had a few reservations about that statement, but he wouldn't fight about it with Steve. Not now, maybe not ever. Instead he rolled his eyes and slung his arm around Steve's shoulder, "So, how long have you known about the scholarship, ya punk?"

"A week."

"A week? You didn't tell me for a week? You really are a punk, you know that?"

Steve snickered, "I think you'll get over it."

"Nah, we have a week worth of celebration to do now." Bucky said boastfully as he pushed his thoughts and Steve's away from Sarah Rogers.

Steve nearly rolled his eyes as he held in a groan. He had a week of Bucky trying to drag him out to a club or with a girl now. It wasn't the worst fate in the world, but he was sure it would be the most exhausting. The two sniped at each other as they walked. Their feet automatically moving where they needed.

The duo made it halfway to Mel's Diner when Steve snorted and nudged his friend, "Hey Buck?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday."

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1935 Kingston, New York

It was an unbearably hot morning. The sun seemed to be reminding the world that it was a giant ball of burning gas. Well maybe not the world, but the heat was definitely making its presence known to the small group segregated in a cemetery just outside of Kingston. Elena Turner stifled a sigh as she tried not to tug at the sleeves of her mourning dress. The satiny material didn't breathe and was beginning to cling to her skin…she wished the preacher would talk faster, this farce of a funeral needed to be over. She felt her cousin shift uncomfortably next to her and knew that he too was becoming impatient. She couldn't help, but turn to look at him. His eyes were glazed red and glaring miserably at the wooden coffin perched before them. He had foregone any pretense at being composed and was pulling clumsily at his collar.

Elena supposed it was for the best, Howard was supposed to be playing the role of the grieving son. She doubted that anyone, but herself and a few servants, knew that his pallid complexion and bloodshot eyes were the result from a night of drinking in celebration, rather than crying in sorrow. He was beyond hungover and the strange heat was doing nothing to make him better. She only hoped that he wouldn't do something incredibly…stupid.

"Stop fidgeting." Elena warned quietly, "There are more than enough people staring at you."

"I think I'm going to throw up." Howard murmured uneasily as he continued to pull at his collar. He could care less about the people watching him. He had spent the past week in a wild state of relief, shock and horror and it was almost over. As soon as the coffin was in the ground, he could move on.

"Please don't." Elena said with a small grimace, "I told you not to drink so much last night."

He rolled his eyes and instantly regretted it as the sensation of a million needles pierced his skull, "How was I supposed to know it would be such a wretched morning? Isn't it supposed to rain at funerals?...God, I'm dying."

"You're not dying, you big baby. Besides, I think the world is rather happy that your father is no longer in it, I know I am." Elena muttered lightly as she watched the preacher finally close his bible and step back from the coffin to let the gravediggers have access.

Howard nearly cried in relief at the sight of the slightly grungy men, "Give me a break. The only person mourning daddy dearest is your mother."

As if the woman in question could hear his words from across the aisle of folding chairs, Vitoria Turner, sister of Howard Stark Senior, let out an awful screeching sob. Elena was sure the entire congregation cringed at the sound as she tried to hold back a groan of disgust. She could see her older brother, Fergus, quickly coming to her mother's aid with a handkerchief. It wasn't even eleven in the morning and already the day was too long.

"Think she'll still be crying when she finds out that father left her out of his will?" Her cousin murmured amusedly as he watched the spectacle his aunt was making.

"Yes, except then the tears will be real." Elena muttered dryly as she turned her attention back to the lowering of the casket. She honestly didn't want to think about her mother receiving that news. The woman was intolerable on a good day; on a bad day, Vitoria Turner could make Satan cry, "Can I stay with you when that happens?"

Howard sent her a sympathetic look, "Do you even have to ask, Birdie? You're always welcome in my home." He tugged at his collar again, "My God, what is with this heat? It's barely even May. I swear this is my father's doing. He's making sure I'm miserable even when he's gone."

"Don't say that!" Elena whispered harshly as she went pale at the thought of her uncle still having any influence on the world.

She sensed Howard's sharp eyes studying her and suddenly felt her stomach roll with silent shame. He hadn't been the only one to have a tumultuous week. She had been bouncing between the same emotions he had, the only difference was that Elena knew they would not be able to move on as easily as her cousin seemed to think. Her eyes drifted back towards the rectangular hole in the ground, and suddenly, her dress wasn't the only thing unable to breathe. What had she done?

As if he knew what she was thinking, Howard quickly grasped her hand and squeezed her fingers. Her blue gaze quickly snapped to him, but all Howard could do was shake his head. Don't fall apart now, he was silently trying to tell her. Not yet.

"Where's that flask you snatched this morning?" He whispered instead, no longer meeting her stare. If he had, then he would have seen the exasperated disbelief that sparked in her blue orbs.

"I'm not giving you anymore alcohol."

Howard bit back a smile as he heard the annoyance coating her voice. However, he hadn't been asking for the flask for himself to use, but for her. Elena could use a little alcohol to calm her nerves. He turned to explain this to her, but was only able to get his mouth open when another resounding screech was heard from the other side of the aisle as the mourners began to stand for final farewells.

Elena glared at him, "If I have to deal with my mother sober, then so do you."

Howard wisely kept his mouth shut and stood to receive the forming line of condolence wishes. Suddenly, he wished she had given him the flask. In a perfect world, he would not have had to arrange a funeral at the age of sixteen. His eyes drifted toward the now lowered casket that had induced Elena's minor panic moments before, but then he should not have killed his father either. His hands went clammy and the headache he had been nursing all morning seemed to become even more unbearable. He just needed to get past today. A moment later, he felt Elena come to his side. Her hand lightly tapped his elbow to let him know that she was there if he needed her. He smiled gratefully at her.

"Uncle Leo is here." Elena whispered as he began to shake hands, "He'll take us back to the house once we're done here."

Howard nodded his understanding as he spared another glance toward his father's grave. As he glanced back at the mourners, he caught Elena's gaze. A look of grim understanding passed between them.

No one could know.

Next Chapter

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bravadoseries · 4 years

Note

tell us about your braudrey wasteland baby analysis

this ended up being long and angsty i am sorry . if u want i can analyze songs from his other album in a happier way to even it out lol

“nfwmb”:

“when i first saw you / the end was soon” - audrey and bruce met on the helicarrier and i think when they fought in new york they both knew they might not come out of it. audrey was inexperienced and way out of her depth, bruce was really against turning back into the hulk again.

“Give your heart and soul to charity / ‘Cause the rest of you, the best of you / Honey, belongs to me” - they both give parts of themselves away for the greater good and feel most human with each other

“Nothing fucks with my baby / Nothing can get a look in on my baby / Nothing fucks with my baby / Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing” - when hozier wrote this song everyone thought it was about how nothing fucks with his baby because he protects her but he said actually nobody fucks with her because she’s extraordinarily powerful and scary. i think both of these apply to braudrey—nobody fucks with bruce because audrey protects him, and nobody fucks with the hulk because he’s giant and terrifying

“moment’s silence (common tongue)”

“When stunted hand earns place with man by mere monstrosity / Alarms are struck and shore is shook by sheer atrocity / A cure I know that soothes the soul, does so impossibly” - this is related to an upcoming ~chapter~ lol but basically audrey and bruce go on a retreat upstate that’s supposed to give him the opportunity to hulk out and like scare some squirrels in the woods but while they’re there, audrey and the hulk become good friends ? and so that’s why she’s able to reason with bruce when he turns

“almost (sweet music)”

i would place this one as post aou when audrey thinks bruce is dead.

“i’m almost me again, she’s almost you” - after a bit, she starts dating again but she’s still very much grieving and hung up on him

“i wouldn’t know where to start / sweet music playin’ in the dark / be still my foolish heart / don’t ruin this on me” - audrey becomes good friends with wanda and pietro after age of ultron and they haven’t been around long but they ask her to talk about it because she sits in her room playing the same song every day and crying and they’re like … ?

“I got some colour back, she thinks so, too / I laugh like me again, she laughs like you” - i think this is just audrey letting herself be close to people again. it’s not the same but it’s not so lonely

“movement”

“I still watch you when you're groovin’” so this song i think is about like someone dancing and being really seductive and sexy but this reminds me of bruce watching audrey dancing really terribly w tony at every avengers function. audrey literally cannot dance for shit and it’s endearing to bruce

“When you move / I can recall somethin' that's gone from me / When you move / Honey, I'm put in awe of somethin' so flawed and free” - i think bruce gets kind of fixated on watching audrey spar and fight; like partially because it’s hot but also because he sees her as very powerful and finds it magnetizing

“no plan”

i’m gonna go ahead and place this as ragnarok/infinity war

“for starts / what a waste to say the heart could feel apart / or feel complete, baby” - audrey and bruce reunite on sakaar and it’s a very emotional scene; it’s a waste to say the heart could feel apart because she knows she’s not less without him but there’s this understanding, this thing that’s been off that’s finally righted when they’re back together

“My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand / That's how I know now that you understand” - this applies to a very specific moment in ragnarok before they go to fight hela where audrey puts her hand over bruce’s and he looks at her and she’s unable to tell him that if they die right now she loves him but he knows anyway

“There's no plan / There's no race to be run / The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun / There's no plan / There's no kingdom to come / I’ll be your man if you got love to get done / Sit in and watch the sunlight fade / Honey, enjoy, it's gettin' late / There's no plan / There's no hand on the rein / As Mack explained, there will be darkness again” - so this is all very apocalyptic and not to flex but i was at a concert and hozier talked about this line and how the whole song was written about the doomsday clock and a time when it was closer to zero than ever; it’s a song about throwing caution into the wind at the end of the world and i think that’s fitting. there’s a period where audrey realizes that they’re not gonna beat thanos, and that the snap is gonna happen, and she takes a breath and notices everything around her and just thinks about how she’s lucky to have had it at all.

“nobody”

“You know when it's twelve o'clock in Soho, baby / It's gin o'clock where I'll wake up, I don't know / And I think about you though everywhere I go / And I've done everything and I've been everywhere, you know” - this just reminds me of when audrey is away on missions and bruce is still at the base; she’s been everywhere in the world because she’s been alive for so long and she’s been around for a lot; the one thing she’s most grateful for her lifetime to have coincided with though is bruce

“i’ve had no love like your love / from nobody” - this is just them lol they understand each other on another level

“I'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint / I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave” - this is audrey 2 bruce … she would be appalled if he ever tried to get rid of the hulk for good; i think that it’s such a significant part of how they see and understand each other

“If I had the choice between hearing either noise: The excitement of a thousand or the soothing of your voice / At first chance, I'd take the bed warmed by the body” - they just choose each other. they choose to be with each other. this reminds me of the “give your heart and soul to charity” line in nfwmb because it’s like if they had to be heroes without each other they wouldn’t be happy

“as it was”

there’s a conversation bruce and audrey have at the safehouse in age of ultron where bruce is saying he doesn’t feel the same since wanda fucked with his head bc of the vision he had, and he’s worried abt whether or not audrey can continue to care for him when the chaos the hulk created wasn’t for any good or if she’s changed her mind and she has to assure him that she hasn’t; there are a lot of lines from this song that remind me of that

-“whatever’s here that’s left of me / is yours just as it was”

-“Just as it was, baby / Before the otherness came / And I knew its name / The drug, the dark, / The light, the flame”

-“its holds had the fight of my baby / and the lights were s bright as my baby / but your love was unmoved”

-“the sights were as stark as my baby / and the cold cut as sharp as my baby / and the nights were as dark as my baby / half as beautiful, too” (unrelated sidenote but this line gives me chills always)

then the second verse of this reminds me of audrey and bruce in ragnarok:

“Tell me if somehow Some of it remains How long you would wait for me How long I've been away The shape that I'm in now Your shape in the doorway Make your good love known to me Or just tell me about your day”

“shrike”

so audrey has a really really hard time saying i love you after bruce leaves at the end of aou, to anyone—she says it to steve maybe once, but she can’t say it besides that one time, and it’s part of why she’s so torn up about peggy dying because she didn’t tell her she loved her enough in the months leading up to her death.

but also, when bruce comes back, audrey still can’t muster up the ability to say them out loud, and so at the end of infinity war, she’s left without telling any of the people she loves that she loves them. when she comes back in endgame, she’s able to overcome that to tell them. this song reminds me of that

“I couldn't utter my love when it counted / Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now” - this is when she comes back

“The words hung above / But never would form / Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn / Remember me love when I'm reborn / As the shrike to your sharp / And glorious thorn” - this is both; she couldn’t say it, but she’s “reborn” during endgame and she realizes that the worst has already happened countless times; there’s nothing else to be afraid of that she hasn’t survived

“Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted / All of my goodness is going with you now” - this is just audrey when bruce leaves

“talk”

ok this entire song is just both audrey and bruce when they like each other but don’t wanna say anything about it.

I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus When her body was found Hey yeah I'd be the choiceless hope in grief That drove him underground Hey yeah I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee That made him turn around Hey yeah And I'd be the immediate forgiveness In Eurydice Imagine being loved by me

I won't deny I've got in my mind now (Hey, yeah) All the things I would do So I try to talk refined For fear that you find out (Hey, yeah) How I'm imagining you

I'd be the last shred of truth In the lost myth of true love Hey yeah I'd be the sweet feeling of release Mankind now dreams of Hey yeah That's found in the last witness before the wave hits Marvelling at God Hey yeah Before he feels alone one final time And marries the sea Imagine being loved by me

“dinner & diatribes”

i think…..this doesn’t match up exactly but the new year’s eve chapter…..Yeah

“Let there be damage ensued and tabloid news / And that kind of love / That's the kinda love / I’ve been dreaming of”

“would that i”

okay buckle up this one is a lot

“True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me / That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree / Must be felled for to fight the cold / I fretted fire but that was long ago” ok this i think is bruce’s perspective; love in withdrawal was the weeping of me = the isolation he put himself in following becoming the hulk was a very bad spot for him even though it was safest. the sound of the saw must be known by the tree = gotta risk it for the biscuit! must be felled for to fight the cold / i fretted fire but that was long ago = i used to be afraid but now i’m not; it’s worth the risk

“Oh, but you're good to me / Oh, you're good to me / Oh, but you're good to me, baby” bruce is just continually confused and surprised by the fact that audrey isn’t scared of him

“With each love I cut loose I was never the same / Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame / I was fixed on your hand of gold / Laying waste to my loving long ago”

-with each love i cut loose i was never the same = bruce has cut off everyone he’s been close to since the hulk happened and he’s not the same when he’s alone; he thinks he can make it by himself and he probably can but he doesn’t have to

-i was fixed on your hand of gold / laying waste to my loving long ago = this is actually nice bc the gold imagery specifically matches up with what audrey’s powers are, and so there’s that connection to be made

“And it's not tonight / Where I'm set alight / And I blink in sight / Your blinding light” this also just matches up really nicely w audrey’s powers lol

“sunlight”

“I had been lost to you, sunlight / And flew like a moth to you, sunlight / Oh your love is sunlight” i think this would be bruce after age of ultron ? he’s been lost to audrey, but when he sees her he gravitates back toward her immediately; he sees her love as sunlight

“the tale is the same / told before and told again / soul that's born in cold and rain / knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight” - bruce is the soul that’s born in cold and rain and audrey is sunlight

“Each day you rise with me / Know that I would gladly be / The Icarus to your certainty” - i think he’s just devoted to her

“wasteland, baby”

okay going line by line for this one lol buckle up!

“All the fear and fire of the end of the world / Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl” - when they’re fighting thanos audrey is actually reminded of bruce; how losing him felt like the world ending, now it’s for real

“Happens great, happens sweet / Happily, I'm unfazed here, too” - when audrey goes at the end of infinity war, she goes smiling

“Wasteland, baby / I’m in love, I'm in love with you” - they just love each other

“All the things yet to come are the things that have passed / Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass / Like the bonfire that burns / That all words in the fight fell to” - everything that has happened has led them to this moment; loki, ultron, hydra, etc. without that they wouldn’t have each other, but they also probably wouldn’t be dealing with this mess. it’s not good or bad, it’s just the way things went.

“Wasteland, baby / I’m in love, I'm in love with you”

“And I love too, that love soon might end / Be known in its aching / Shown in the shaking / Lately of my wasteland, baby” - they know it’s over before it’s over; they can tell what’s going to happen before it happens, and they’re just paralyzed in that moment

“Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking / Though quaking, though crazy / That's just wasteland, baby” - when audrey goes bruce pleads with her to stay

“And that day that we'll watch the death of the sun / To the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on / And you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs” - in the years after the snap, bruce has the most vivid dream almost every night where audrey’s . like . ghost comes to him and takes him to the top of a hill and they watch the world end around them. it’s terrible and every time he wakes up he misses it.

“When the stench of the sea and the absence of green” - ok lol this just reminds me of how the hulk wouldn’t come fight at the end of infinity war

“Are the death of all things that are seen and unseen / Are an end but the start of all things that are left to do” - the world ends; half of everything is dead; but they’re still left. bruce and steve and everyone have to go on living still.

“Wasteland, baby / I'm in love, I'm in love with you / (That's it)” - this abruptness just reminds me a lot of the snap; that’s it. there’s no going back.

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for-bucks-sake · 5 years

Text

Underwater.

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 4.5K. I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Warnings: Angst, Endgame Spoilers, general sadness? Characters death. That’s it probably. Summary: For the past five years, Y/n has been holding her breath. A/N: Idk man, I want to thank everyone who read Missing Is a Recurring Theme. I was overwhelmed by the comments so just,,thank you! Currently working on part two (get ready for fluff!) But for now, this was requested by the lovely @fandomnerdxox. Hope you love angst, because that’s what this fic is all about. Hope you like it!

Her lungs were filled with dust. She could tell. Unable to expend them enough to take a breath, ribcage staying painfully small. “Bucky?” She called, maybe yelled. Nothing was clear anymore. Not even the air.

The fighting stopped all at once, there was a shift in the atmosphere, like the universe itself sensed something has gone terribly wrong. She stopped running when a Wakandan soldier reached for her, hurt, looking distressed as he tried to come closer, his back bent.

She swallowed, the urged to find her partners almost overpowering her instincts to help the man. She took his hand nevertheless, holding it tight in hers and pulling him up. She glanced to the sides, forever searching with her eyes familiar figures, when she felt the man slipping from her touch; “Are you oka-“ y/n looked back just in time to witness him disintegrating in front of her eyes, warm human flash crumbling in her grip, nothing left but dirt.

She gasped, nearly falling back. Her eyes widened in panic as she finally started to notice more and more people dissolving into thin air.

Y/n ran. “Steve!” Knowing it’s too late. But she ran. “Bucky!” The field was too big to cover on foot. But she ran.

There was a long leg clothed in navy blue uniforms, scattering into invisible particles. Wind spreading them all over two silver, Vibrenium made shields, That’s when she stopped.

“No.” She choked, vision clouded, not even registering the chaos she walked right into.

A single, large, sniper rifle abandoned on the grass, inches away from where the leg was no longer. “No.”

It can’t be. It can’t. Not them, it can’t be them.

She collapsed to the ground, the weight of her injuries finally hitting her fully;

“I can’t breathe.” She panted, holding her sore throat desperately, starving for oxygen,“I can’t breathe.”

Loneliness is a funny thing. You could be lonely for years, decades, even. And never once notice it. You could live content with what you have, not even wondering about what you might miss. That’s when life tricks you. It lures you into tasting it, like a pinch of salt you bake inside a cake, bringing the sweetness out. Life places it on your tongue, melting it away into your bloodstream, changing you forever so you will never be the same. And then, they wait.

Wait in the shadows, until they think you’re too used to it, until they decide you don’t deserve it anymore. So they take it. Snatch it from between your fingers with brutal force, leaving you alone, bare, unworthy.

Funny may not be the accurate word, no. But all the other words she thought of to describe her situation were too tragic. So she sticks with funny.

Nat asked her to move back to compound today.

Y/n said no, of course. Not even remotely considering this as an option, furious at Natasha that she did. It got heated quickly, on her part, mostly.

She was alone all her life. Both of them were before the universe was vicious enough to give a meager taste to the starved. She thought maybe Nat, could understand.

Y/n didn’t want to move in. Waking up to the sound of Natasha trying to save a world that already lost. Listening to her secretly wiping about what Clint has become. She didn’t want to do that. Y/n had enough shit to deal with on her own.

She finally reached her front door, fumbling with her keys, groaning as the jingling continued because she couldn’t find the right one, hands still shaking from anger.

“Did you know how quickly smell fades away?” Nat’s hair was longer, red color vibrant than ever. It suited her.

“I’m sorry?” Confusion replaced Natasha’s fading smile,

“Smell.” Y/n stressed, “of people, I mean. When they’re not here to renew it, it just disappears. Dissolves into the air, like it was never there.” She refused to sit, not once stopping to chip on her nails.

“Are you okay? Y/n, I’m starting to w-“

“Especially with clothes.” She frowned, burring her hands inside the pocket of her oversized leather jacket, changing her mind right after, bringing right hand fingers to her lips instead, “you know, I tried keeping their clothes in the closet, I thought maybe, it will help preserve the smell. But it was all bullshit. Turns out I just missed about a year of their scents. When I opened it, it was barely there.”

Natasha remained silent, too alarmed to speak. Y/n accepted it as an invitation to continue her ramble.

“I was so angry, you won’t believe.” She laughed bitterly, “At myself of course, like, I could’ve googled it or something, but I didn’t. So I don’t have much to go with now.” Y/n continued, either going through an aneurism, a fit, or finally losing her mind all together, doing so hysterically right in front of Nat.

Natasha left her chair, walking towards y/n as carefully as she would approach a wounded predator.

“Listen to me, it’s going to be fine.” She cringed at her own words, feeling terrible at making people feel better. Steve was great at it, he always knew what to say and when to say it. Surly if he returned to give an advice, it would’ve calmed down his grieving girlfriend.

Natasha was relieved to be her only audience, if anyone else was seeing her state she would get a fast pass to a psych ward. Nat knew she wasn’t crazy, just…hurting.

“Yeah. yeah,” y/n dismissed her, swinging her hand, “anyway, that’s my way of telling you I can’t move here.” She finally sat down, leaving Natasha facing the wall. She turned around.

“Why not?” She said carefully, crossing her arms, “the thought of you all alone is- .”

“I don’t mind being alone.” Y/n cut sharply the kind words directed to her,

“do you?”

She finally managed to find the right one, shoving the key to its lock and twisting. She pushed the door with her shoulder, dropping her small bag to the floor.

Five years had gone and she still wasn’t used to the unnatural silence.

The blinds were shut, the air didn’t move, and for a second she could believe that time actually stopped.

Y/n inhaled deeply, standing still in the middle of the room, not daring to make a sound - maybe time did stop. She jumped when a car honked outside. A loud, ear cutting sound that tore her ruthlessly from her bubble.

She blinked, as if waking up from a deep slumber, realizing her precious reality was nothing but a dream.

That’s how she felt everyday, if she was being honest. Sometimes their touch felt more like a delusion than a memory. Sometimes, metal hand and starred chest turning into dust were just a horrifying nightmare. Sometimes, two purple, ugly fingers snap themselves together was just a fucked up hallucination. Sometimes, the existence of two, perfect men, reciprocating the strong, burning love she felt was just too hard to believe.

Nothing was real anymore.

Y/n walked into the bedroom, grabbing the white bottle of aspirin from her bedside table and swallowing down two. It was an exhausting day.

Her head met the sagging pillow with a soft thud, unlike most days, sleep came quickly, and with a flutter of her eyelashes, she was already gone.

He was so handsome with that beard. It was really impacting her ability to focus.

“Hi, ms. Astronaut!” Steve called her, golden fragments of light dancing in his eyes, “your pretty dreamy looks won’t help you on the battlefield.”

“Really? So you’re just that good at punching people?” She smirked, adjusting the straps of her sports bra, “no staring at your enemies with those baby blues until they beg for mercy?”

He caught her off guard, using her shoulder to hoist himself up and tackle her ankles from the back. She hit the soft padding embarrassingly easily, Steve not even giving her the time to react.

He offered a strong hand, swinging her off the ground like she weighs nothing when she took it. He smiled at her, eyes a brilliant cerulean- “ready to beg for mercy yet?”

Y/n huffed and hit his shoulder, “not a chance.” She paused, tightening her ponytail, returning to starting position, “now explain to me how to block it.”

Suddenly, her scenario dusted away in a disgusting black ash, swirling around her body, ruthlessly throwing her into a field.

She started running. She didn’t know where she ran, but it felt like she’s been there before; sounds and smells familiar, recognizing the path to god-knows-where as her legs kept carrying her.

A more clear image started to form, the sky bore lightning but it was warm outside, faceless monsters with sharp teeth and slick skin tried to attack her but only went through. Y/n was starting to realize where she was; it was their last fight against Thanos, and she got another chance.

Running was a part of her by now. Unable to stop or slow down, one mission in mind. Looking for a reflection of the sun on metal, or just the eyes of two bearded men before they disappear for good.

She heard them calling for her, loud and clear, two voices she hasn’t encountered for a long time, yet will never be able to forget.

“Bucky?” She screamed, this time she has to find them, she has to, “Steve? Where are you? Steve, Bucky!”

The tears woke her up, cheeks stained and breaths that were no longer under her control, hasty gasps that choke her up instead of supplying oxygen.

She was so close this time.

Her body shook violently, trembling with fear and drenched in cold sweat. The headache she had when she fell asleep was worse now, an echoing sting compressing her brain every time her heart beat.

It wasn’t just her failed attempt to say goodbye. She dreamed this every other night, and every single time she finds herself inside an unknown territory, not knowing what she needs to do until the very last minute, when she fails miserably, only to awaken to the voices of her loved ones, calling her to come save them.

No, it wasn’t just that. Because this time- this time she had a good dream too.

They used to spar all the time together, it was a good energy outlet and an excuse to spend more time with each other. She had a lot to learn from two super soldiers, and to her surprise, she taught them some moves too.

Y/n remembered that day, Steve and she were having an early morning while Bucky was still soundly sleeping, so they decided not to wake him, leaving an orange sticky note on his metal arm that said, gone to kick steve’s ass, be back by 9:00. love you.

Steve drove them to the compound, crisp breeze hitting her freshly opened eyes as she clutched his firm chest tighter, leaning her body weight on his.

He asked if she was okay, loud noise of the engine and the wind free whistles in her ears, maybe he thought he drove too fast.

She nodded, smiling in reassurance when they bypassed traffic, Steve maniacally dodging cars and driving in between the small spaces vehicles leave. He was crazy. But he managed to bring them to the compound in under twenty minutes, which was a new record.

They entered the gym, Steve’s hand still on her lower back as they stopped walking, taking off their jackets, staying only in training clothes.

“I really like that jacket.” She said, feeling the worn leather of the large brown cloth under her fingertips.

“I know.” He smiled and bit his lips, taking her hand and guiding her to the large ring.

They took their positions, adjusting their stances, “Last night I remembered some old fight moves I didn’t use in a long time.” Steve scratched his beard then stretched his shoulders, “maybe we could start with them?”

She remembers nodding, not registering exactly what he said because she got distracted, thinking about his beard and his eyes and everything else.

It was a good day. Peaceful day. A day she would give anything to experience just once more.

Her eyes were tired, begging for an actual rest as she got up, still in her clothes from yesterday, blindly walking to the kitchen and hitting some buttons on the coffee machine- it was too old now. Needed to be replaced.

Nothing has really changed, since half of the world disappeared, since Steve and Bucky disappeared. She set next to the kitchen table, filling only one of four chairs, like every other day, holding the same bitter, black coffee in the same chipped mug.

Even killing Thanos didn’t mean anything, and she wasn’t even there. Too struck with grief to see the last light behind this monster’s eyes before they darkened forever.

Y/n felt like the world ceased to move, like maybe, in a way, they were caught in a lop, and time did stop.

“I’m sorry.” She went to visit Natasha again. Being sad was no excuse to treat her only friend spitefully. She leaned against the lintel, trying to find support, or hide behind it, she didn’t know.

Natasha’s eyes were swollen, eyes still threatening to tear up again any moment.

“It’s okay.” She took a bite from her sandwich, “Clint did it again.”

Y/n thought about yesterday, her own thoughts were so unfair to Nat, who did nothing but help her the past five years, how could she be so selfish, thinking she was the only one in suffering.

“I’m sorry, Nat. I really am.” Y/n approached her, taking the chair that was opposite of her, “did you try looking for him? Clint is a good guy. You know he is. He’s someone who lost everything at once. Something like that gotta mess up with your mind.”

“You’re still here.” Nat said quietly, already regretting it,

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, reclining against the back of the chair, “If there’s someone in this world that could save him - it’s yo-“

“Hey, Hello, This is Scott Lang. We met a few years ago, at the airport, in Germany, I got really big-“

Both women were startled, slowly getting up from their chairs, looking at the small monitor.

“Is this an old message?” Y/n asked, her eyes burning, she inhaled sharply. Scott Lang is supposed to be missing, he dusted with all the others. And if that really is Scott it means…

Scott didn’t disappear because of Thanos’ snap like the others. So it didn’t mean shit. And hope crushed her chest once again, hating herself for letting it invade her thoughts repeatedly, not learning her lesson.

His incoherent ramble about a time machine sure didn’t help. Natasha insisted they would go visit Tony anyway, saying that if he recognized a real chance he would never hesitate to help-

But when she sees Tony with his daughter, her world nearly crumbles for the second time in two days. The odds he would cooperate were now down to zero.

Tony saw them approaching. She watched him letting the kid down, following her with her gaze as she ran all the way to the front door, swallowed by the wooden house.

“I’m happy for you Tony,” y/n heard herself saying, “I really am. But you can help so many people, you can help bring so many people back, and you won’t even…”

“No. I won’t even.” There was a finality in his voice, one that clearly states they are done.

“Steve? You remember Steve? He used to be your friend. Or have you already forgotten him. How easy.” She pierced the air with an ice cold tone , anger consuming her. “You live your happy life, and you got everything. Tony. Everything. What do I got? What do I have?” She heaved, breathless, and he looked like he was going to say something, when his daughter came jumping on his lap, securing her little arms around him in a firm hug, “mom told me to come save you.”

Y/n finally got a good look of the girl. She was sweet looking, a visible brain behind her eyes; And she didn’t know Tony Stark very well, but y/n could tell the kid shared a deep resembles to him. Who wouldn’t do anything for their child? Even if it means letting the other half of the world burn. -

She clearly didn’t know the man at all, because for some reason- Tony Stark came back.

Everything they did seemed to fail, and when Bruce couldn’t figure it out, almost making what’s left of the Avengers babysitters to baby Scott, Tony arrived to the rescue.

“He turned into a baby, didn’t he?” He snarked with a sly grin, revealing a weird looking metal bracelet and a proud attitude that said, I did it.

“Thank you.” Y/n took his hand, squeezing it hard, knowing that as of now, she owes this man her life. “Thank you so much.”

He offered a knowing smile, grief shifting his features, “I know what it’s like to lose someone.” - “See you in a minute.” She heard Nat, giddy with excitement, before all of them were pulled into a colorful vortex, a hurricane rearranging her guts, staying with her even when they landed in an unfamiliar ally in New York.

“Are we in the right place?” She asked Tony and Bruce, changing her white and red, Quantum traveling suit, into a more area fitting one with a single button.

Smashing sounds got closer by the second right after she asked, not long before they saw a much greener Hulk, destroying everything on his path.

“I’m pretty sure this answers my question. “ Y/n said to herself, amused, heart light inside her chest despite the heavy mission ahead of them.

Y/n wore a big SHIELD identification, saying she was incredibly high clearance, it’s supposed to get her what she needs quickly, no questions asked; but when she entered an elevator full of Hydra thugs, testosterone reeking the small space, she assumed there might be some questions.

“Gentlemen.” She said, too ceremonially, “I will need you to hand me the Scepters. Orders from high, I’m afraid.” She felt all of them tense around her,

“And who are you, if I may ask? I have never seen you here.” The bald man who looked less threatening than all of them asked,

Y/n held her ID high, pointing out her clearance level, “not ever seeing me here is a good sign, Mr…”

“Mr. Sitwell.”

“Very well, Mr. Sitwell. Now, if you will, the Scepter. I’m in a bit of a rush. Wouldn’t want to keep people on the higher floors waiting.” Y/n decided to do something bold, the outcome could either be a success, or one that she would have to punch her way out of. She leaned against Sitwell, bringing her mouth closer to his ear and whispered,

“Hail Hydra.”

The man looked apprehensive at first, debating with himself for a long moment, until finally nodding to one of the other men, handing her the long suitcase reluctantly.

Y/n gladly accepted it , the elevator finally opening up as she turned her back to them, smirking in satisfaction, going towards the exit.

Her legs stopped in their tracks. She wasn’t supposed to see him. Not now, not like this.

Steve, wearing a very cheesy and outdated Captain America suit approached her, holding his earpiece, and before she could even registered what was going on, she heard him say he has eyes on Loki. Fucking Fantastic.

It wasn’t her Steve, she knew, but it was harder to accept than say, because as it seemed she is going to have to fight him, and she wasn’t ready.

In the months before the mission Natasha got her back into a very strict schedule of training, trying to beat her into shape again. It couldn’t repair years of damage and neglect, but it was better than anything. And as past Steve swung his shield to her direction, y/n held onto every bit of shape she head.

It wasn’t her Steve, her mind screamed as she dodged his punch, fighting the desire to take off his mask and kiss him.

He hasn’t met her yet, of course he won’t recognize her.

“Hand back the Scepter, Loki.” He demanded, she was suddenly happy she couldn’t see his eyes.

Steve tried to use her shoulder to hoist himself up, but y/n hunched over, waiting for him to miss his jump, and placed two hands securely on his broad shoulders, lifting herself and using his support to flip over, forcing him down along with her, wrapping her body around his, trying to chock him long enough for him to lose consciousness.

“I can’t do that. “She panted, struggling to keep him in a tight enough grip, “and I am not Loki.”

Steve fought out of her hold, twisting his thighs around hers and kicking her kneecaps, rattling her entire body as they changed positions, now she was the one being strangled. She arced her back, hitting him in full force with it, but he didn’t budge. Not even when she jerked one ankle, jolting him right in the junk. She’ll apologize later.

Y/n couldn’t beat him in a hand to hand combat, poorly shaped and outmatched by him. Distraction was her only possible advantage, and she was running out of time, options, and air. What could baffle 2012 Steve Rogers? She thought frantically, just as the answer presented itself to her.

What would faze 2012 Steve Rogers? The same thing that would faze 2019 Steve Rogers, or any Steve Rogers for that matter.

“Bucky, is , alive.” She coughed out, and it was enough; the lock on her throat was released, giving her an opportunity to take the Scepter and run. She took it out of its case, pointing it at Steve general direction just as he gained composer again, hovering above her. She caught a glimpse of blue, cold and painful to watch without the warm undertones that appeared every time he looked at her.

“Sorry.” She squeaked as he dropped to the floor, head planted down. Only falling asleep, she hoped.

- The minute she saw Clint collapsing, an empty space to her left, she knew Natasha was not coming back.

They didn’t know exactly what happened, and it didn’t matter. Because everything else was clear. She gave her life to get that stone, to get everyone back. That only meant one thing; They could not fail.

- As time went by, y/n thought less and less about what would happen if they came back. There was no point to lead herself on, right? So she didn’t.

But now, as the possibility of them returning appeared more vivid, worry began to chew on her confidence. Insecurity seemed the last thing she needed right now, so insignificant, superficial, in times like this, when the faith of the world was at stake. Yet, she was staring at the mirror, for the first time in five years, really looking. Examining carefully, with attention, how her body has changed. She didn’t like what she saw.

It’s not about you, she had to remind herself, it’s about them.

“Also", a very familiar voice, challenging her with the cheek in her tone; Nat. “Give those two dumbasses more credit, they will love you, no matter what.”

It was only them, and they were losing.

They managed the snap, and it almost cost Bruce’s life in the process. Nothing in the world seemed to scream about drastic changes so far, and then Thanos decided to pay a visit, depriving them of finding out if everything they have gone through was for nothing.

Slowly but surely, they were losing. Being wrecked by the purple alien that already destroyed once their lives as they knew and loved.

It wasn’t fair, Stark was the last one standing. She watched him from where she landed, after being brutally thrown. He could never face him by himself, he wouldn’t survive long enough. She remembered that day, it seemed like thousand years ago now; when she swore, she owed her life to that man.

No superpowers, no special suit, no weapon. Just her, and her fists. That’s all she had to offer. She owed it to too many people to not just surrender and die, leaving a world to burn behind her. She owed it to herself.

Y/n gritted her teeth and spit blood to the side, standing side by side with Iron Man, bringing two fists to the front of her body and fixing her stance.

She inhaled deeply and glanced at Stark, he nodded, letting her know he’s ready when she is.

“Y/n?” She heard her name, somehow loud, in her earpiece. Tony looked confused just as her, he heard it too, and it wasn’t him talking.

“Doll, it’s Steve. Do you copy?”

Her breath was knocked off her lungs, she searched around her for any sign of him, of Bucky, of anyone, when an orange portal was opened behind her. And then another one, and another one, and another ten.

“Holy shit.” Tony called from beside her, laughing, somehow, “holy fucking shit.”

Y/n was at a loss of words.

“Go.” He opened his helmet, motioning her to the sea of warriors behind them - he wasn’t standing alone anymore - “go!”

She shook her head, not moving an inch. “I’m staying right here.”

It was her dream again. Her eyes scanned the crowds, running amok between injured people, bodies. Vision too blurry and burning to see any face at all.

“Y/n!.” A deep voice called in her direction, and she nearly twisted her neck attempting to find its source.

Her eyes teared up instantly, knees threatening to buckle underneath her, a metal arm coming just in time to hold onto her, support her in place. Wiping tears was useless, she found out soon enough, giving up instantly to simply sobbing into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.” She kept crying out, he had a long cut on the side of his torso, he shushed her gently when she tried to bring it up.

There was a subtle movement behind her, and she tensed, head shooting up, “Steve?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He said softly, another pair of strong arm enfolding themselves around her, his eyes radiated warmth, bright in the middle of a dirt stained face. She took one last look before burying her body deeper between them, surrounding herself with a scent that was a mix of salt and earth and blood, so humanly them.

“You were gone and I-“ Y/n kept glancing every other second at Bucky- even though she was still in his arms, hysteria got the best of her, gradually taking over any rationale left- the fear they’ll disappear, like last time, becomes too real.

“I didn’t say goodbye and-“ She gasped for air, they caressed her, talking sweet nothings in her ears, just to calm her down.

“It’s been five years and I…I couldn’t live without you.” She said finally, physically struggling to speak, clutching onto them harder,

“We’re so sorry.” Bucky muttered, choking down on tears of his own, weaving fingers through her knotted hair, “So fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reassured her one more time, kissing her temple, then her knuckles, then her lips. “we’re here now.”

#stucky x reader #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #captain america #the winter soldier #steve rogers x reader #bucky barns x reader #stucky #avengers endgame #avengers endgame spoilers #i write

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all1e23 · 4 years

Text

Between the Stars [Pt. 1]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader

Summary: Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected.

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death

A/N: It’s a military AU with the loss of a spouse. This was the only WIP of mine I was really upset to discontinue. Which is why it’s the only one I left up. After some love from my @moonbeambucky, I’m posting the first chapter and we will see how it goes. No, I do not have a posting schedule nor do I know when the next part will be up. No Bucky yet but the next chapter is nothing but Bucky. It’s still very heavy in the angst but hang tight. It gets better once Bucky comes home. If you like it write a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s breath warmed your skin, making you shiver. “It’s time to wake up, my sweetheart.”

You pulled the cover over your head, hiding the grin on your face and blocking out the sun along with your husband. Steve’s chuckle made your smile widen enough to make your cheeks hurt. There was a gentle tug to the blanket, and you knew Steve was attempting to tenderly coax you out of bed. You slowly lowered the quilt down to your nose, only letting your eyes peek out, and you find your husband’s gorgeous smile beaming down at you, making your heart flutters from the sight.

“It’s Saturday, Steven.”

“Steven?” Steve chuckled and tried to pull the covers off your face yet again. “I’m in that much trouble?”

You narrowed your eyes and tightened your grip on your blanket.

“Yes, Steven, you are.”

Steve settled himself on top of you, leaving the blanket wedged between you, but he pulled it down far enough to see your whole face. He placed a kiss to the tip of your crinkled up nose and smiled at the exaggerated pout you put on.

“We have brunch with everyone, or did you forget that it was your idea?”

“I did forget,” You whined quietly. “You know better than to let me plan things when I’m excited, and I’ve had more than two glasses of wine.”

He only grinned wider at that. Didn’t say a word, and you started to fidget from your own self-consciousness. You hated and loved it when he looked at you like that. It made you fear the day he would stop. Eight years in, and it was still there despite fights over how to load the dishwasher, silly tiffs about money and arguments over what way the toilet paper goes on the holder.

“What are you going to do when our kids come running in here to wake you up? Are you going to send our sweet babies away?”

He just had to go there. Steve just had to go and mention sweet moments of babies and cuddles -- Your weakness.

You relented and finally wrapped your arms around his neck, dipping your fingers into his longer than usual hair. He would have to cut it soon. Couldn’t be a soldier and have hair long enough to tuck behind his ears. You liked when he let it get long, though. It made him your Steve again. Which sounded ridiculous. He didn’t have long hair and beard when you met, or the night he kissed you for the first time, but it didn’t matter how silly it was. This version was your Steve, and the short-haired, clean-shaven one belonged to the Army.

“Well, if they are running up here to wake me up because their daddy made me breakfast, I could be convinced to get out bed for some kisses and cuddles.”

Steve’s sweet laugh made your skin prickle. You wondered if he would let you record it before he left this time or if that was going too far. Probably not. Steve would do just about anything you asked of him, so you couldn’t imagine he would ever tell you no for something that would put your heart at ease while he was gone.

“Maybe we skip brunch and get started on those babies, hm?”

You grinned.

Steve always knew exactly what to say.

“God, I love you, Rogers.”

Steve’s right hand slipped under the sheet and under the white cotton shirt of his that you were currently using as a pajama, his fingers dug into your ribs making you squirm, and he dipped his head down, barely brushing over your parted lips, he whispered, “And, I love you, baby.”

Your eyes opened, and you weren’t met with the sight of your husband. It was the same ugly white ceiling you’ve stared at for the past month, the past thirteen months, really. It’s been a month since everything was finalized. By someone’s good fortune that was not your own, Steve had insisted you buy your house off base so at least you could keep the home you built together. It hadn’t made this last month any easier. Thirty-six days since you got the news and thirty days since you laid Steve to rest. You were supposed to be improving, or so the books and all your friends and family said. You didn’t know how anyone expected you to get better. You could barely put one foot in front of the other, let alone think about moving on with what little bit of a life you had left.

The sun was hitting the full-length mirror hanging on the far wall at the perfect angle, and you knew it was nearly seven, judging by the position of the glare coming off the glass. You could spend the rest of the day in bed, and you would have every right to. No one would let you get away with wallowing today you had a feeling. Besides, you had to stop by Sarah’s and make sure she was okay. It has been far too long since you checked in on her, and that wasn’t fair to her. She was grieving just as much as you were. So, you forced yourself out of bed, stood on shaky legs, and made the short, dreadfully long walk to your closet.

The red flannel you pulled out of black felt-lined hanger still smelled like Steve. All of his things did, and his scent hung heavy in your room. You pulled it on over your tank top and brought the collar up to your nose, taking in a deep breath. That earthy citrus smell still made your knees a little weak. Eventually, you were going to have to wash his things. You glanced at your bed, the pile of crumpled sheets you would typically insist on making before your day started. What was the point in making them now? No one would see them but you. No one would know if you made your bed or left it a wreck for days on end.

You should wash them, a voice in your head nagged.

No, you shouldn’t.

His pillow is still his pillow, so long as you don’t wash it. Maybe next month. You haven’t been sleeping much as it is, and when you do, you usually fall asleep on the couch so the sheets could stand to go a while longer.

The house was eerily quiet in the mornings. Steve was always the first one up and the last one down. The quiet made those times harder. It was the heavy reminder he was gone, and the weight of that on your chest left you unable to rest. Landing at the bottom of the stairs, you found Sam still fast asleep on the couch with no signs of waking any time soon. He had shown up last night claiming he needed to see you, but you knew Sam was there to check up on you. It had nothing to do with his own grief. Sam became your shadow the moment the funeral ended, and part of you wished he would just go away.

You wanted everyone to go away and let you grieve in the only way you knew how.

The coffee pot was empty, and it glared at you the moment you entered the kitchen. As it has been for the last year. Another reminder that Steve was gone and never coming back. When he was home, Steve would set the timer before his run, so by the time you woke up and made your way downstairs, there was always a fresh pot waiting for you. You’ve been making your own coffee since he deployed, and not one morning had it come out right.

You should have known then something was wrong.

A large, calloused hand slipped around your waist from behind, and gentle kisses landed on your neck. He shouldn’t be here, and yet, he was. He was late for PT and was surely going to get yelled at the second he arrived. Steve didn’t seem bothered by the thought, or maybe kissing you was really worth it like he claimed.

“I believe you're wearing my favorite shirt,” Steve’s voice rumbled against your skin, and you tried to suppress the shudder it sent through you.

“What’s yours is mine, Husband.”

Steve chuckled.

“How many cups of coffee does that make for you, Wife?”

“Two,” You said with shaky confidence and a scrunched nose that said you weren’t being entirely truthful.

Steve nuzzled his nose along your jaw, and he roughly whispered in your ear, “Liar. Wanna try that again?”

“Fine,” you conceded with an eye roll. “This is cup three, but I’m not having any more for the day because you’re here stealing the rest.” Steve smiled fondly and took his travel mug from its spot next to yours.

“No more until you have some water. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” Steve cupped your jaw with his free hand and tilted your head back to rest on his shoulder. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips and one to your nose.

“I’ll see you tonight beautiful.”

“Y/n… Hey…”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, baby. When do I ever break my promises to you?”

“Hey, Y/n.” Sam tried again, more forceful his time. “Are you okay?”

You blinked, finding Sam standing in front of you with a look of concern drawing his brows together. You looked down at the counter where two cups were resting, full of black steaming coffee. You had only meant to pour one cup. Or had you? Sam realized the mistake before you did. The cup was for Steve. He quickly leaned forward and slid the mug towards him.

"Mind if I get a cup? Didn't sleep great last night."

A breath of relief.

You nodded and slipped the carafe back where it rested, avoiding Sam’s watchful eyes.

"...How are you sleeping?"

"Fine."

Sam raised a brow.

"Decent." You reluctantly confessed. "Enough that I can make it through the day."

"And what are you doing... to make it through the day? Have you tried to play?"

Your eyes shifted to the piano that sat in the den, and you quickly looked away. There was no point in beating around the bush with that one. Someone was coming to look at it at the end of the week, and you were hopeful by the weekend to have it sold. There were some things that you wouldn’t be able to pick back up again, and falling in love and playing the piano was on the top of the list. There was no reason to pretend.

"No. I don't--" You shook your head. "It's as if my fingers can't remember the keys. I don't know. Nothing feels right anymore."

That was normal. Everything you were feeling was perfectly normal, and Sam wanted to tell you that. You knew he did, but he didn’t, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. This was hard enough without feeling like your closest friend was counseling you.

“It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not--”

“I haven’t washed his pillowcase yet.” You blurted without thinking. “I, uh, I’m scared if I do it will lose his scent, and it won’t be his anymore. Which is stupid. He hasn’t slept on it in over a year. I could easily spray more cologne on the cover like I have been since he left, and it would be the same. It feels different now. Final. Am I going crazy? Because it feels like I am losing it, Sam.”

“That’s all normal. You’re grieving. It’s normal to not be rational--”

No. That was not what you wanted.

“I don’t want therapy Sam right now,” You snapped. “I want Sam. My Sam.”

Sam leaned back against the backing of the barstool and stared at you. Your gaze didn’t waver. You picked at your nails, and your bottom lip was trembling, but you held your gaze steady. Sam knew when to push and when not to. Right now, you were right. You didn’t need him to baby you, to walk on eggshells, and repeat well-rehearsed phrases meant to aid in your recovery like everyone else was doing. You just needed him to listen and tell you your life wasn’t over.”

“Okay.”

Sam reached across the counter and cupped a large hand over yours. There weren’t many people you would let see like this, or at all. Since the funeral, you haven’t been getting out much. You were sure Wanda called Sam and tattled on you after your meltdown in the market yesterday. It wasn’t a big deal. Yes, you cried over an apple pie. It was not the first time someone has gotten upset over baked goods. It happened every day, you were sure of that, and no one made a fuss until it happened to a widow.

Widow. You really hated that word. It was a stupid word, and you refused to use it. However, the incident in the market didn’t help the way people were looking at you, widow, or not. You had thought things would be slightly easier once you talked to Bucky. He’s always had a way of calming you and putting your restless soul at ease. You waited on a call from Bucky, but none came. He hasn’t even sent a letter. That might have been part of the reason for pie-gate 2020.

At first, you were angry. He was ignoring you? After everything? You lost your husband, the man’s best friend, and Bucky couldn’t be bothered to pick up the damn phone and make sure you were okay? But you realized he was grieving, too. It was different from yours, but it didn’t make it any less real, and he had a right to do it in his own way. Besides, Bucky probably didn’t know what to say. You wouldn’t if it was you because there was nothing anyone could say or do to make this okay. That was when your anger turned to tears, and that moment just happened to be in the bakery, in front of twenty or so people.

It wasn’t like there was some guidebook on how you should grieve and move on with your life. You wished there was, but there wasn’t a ‘right way’ to navigate this. You had to take one day at a time and handle each moment as it came along.

“I’ve loved him for most of my life am I supposed to just stop now?”

“No one expects you to stop loving Steve.”

“It feels that way sometimes,” You mumbled weakly.

Sam gave your hand a gentle squeeze, but he didn’t say anything else. You needed to sort through what you were feeling on your own, so he was letting you decide what you needed; from him and yourself. When you finally looked back up, he could tell by the murky waters in your eyes, you were still just as lost as the day Steve left you. Only now, there were expectations for improvement and time limits on how long you were allowed to stay floating in the dark. Even though it had only been thirty-six days, eight hours, and forty-three minutes, everyone was tired. Your friends and family wanted to move on. After all, they didn’t lose their other half. They were tired of being sad, and you were tired of pretending it was okay.

“How am I supposed to move on without him, and what? Just start over?”

Sam gave you a small smile and tightened his grip on your hand. “I don’t know, but we are all here to help you figure it out.”

“Not everyone is here,” you grumbled petulantly.

Bucky didn’t have a choice, but he did. He could have been the one to come home, and while you were not upset with him for sending Sam in his stay, it still hurt. The three of you had been close, and once upon a time, you were closer to Bucky than you were Steve. He was the first person to talk to you when you moved to town, and if it wasn't for Bucky, you never would have met Steve.

“He will be home at the end of the month and from what he said last night. I think he’s hoping it would be okay for him to stay here.”

On the one hand, you were relieved to know Bucky was coming home. You needed to see him, to hear his voice tell you that Steve would want you to move on and be happy. On the other, Bucky hadn’t called you. He called Sam instead. That stung.

“Why?” You slowly pulled your hand back and crossed your arms over your chest, shielding yourself from Bucky’s reasoning and maybe a little bit from Sam, too. “Why does he want to stay here?”

“Well, he didn’t re-enlist, so I think he’s trying to figure out what his next step is and what he’s going to do with the rest of his life and… I think he wants to be close to Steve and maybe to keep an eye on you. You could help each other, you know?”

“Right,” you snorted.

As if anyone could help you, let alone the friend that left you in the lurch when you needed him most. You didn’t know what Sam was putting in his morning coffee, but Bucky didn’t want to help you do anything. He has made that very clear from the moment Steve died.

“I doubt he wants to be here with me, and what exactly are we going to help each other do?”

Sam sighed and shook his head, “Grieve, Y/n. Grieve and move forward.”

That would be easier said than done.

Previous // Next

#past!Steve Rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #alternate universe #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #tw: character death #tw: military death #tw: death of a spouse

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dutten-does-the-fanfic · 5 years

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telling you means losing you (but what if what if what if)

Title: telling you means losing you (but what if what if what if) Pairing: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Warnings: Language, implied sexual content, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced recreational drug use, PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) Word Count: 3.758

Notes: Set right before season 3 - slight spoilers

AO3

Summary: ”You talk in your sleep, you know.”

"Oh?"

Billy hums from behind him. Steve doesn’t have to turn around to know how he looks; lounged in his bed, suntanned, and with the sheets pooling artfully around him even if it’s too fucking hot to even be partly under the covers.

“Can’t even get you to shut up when you’re asleep.”

He should tell him, he thinks. Feels like a hypocrite, feels like bullshit, because that’s what Nancy had wanted to do, had wanted to tell Barb’s parents there was no reason to hope when they should be grieving.

He should tell him, he thinks again. What if it’ll end up being what saves his life?

”You talk in your sleep, you know.”

The blinds are rolled down and the white, completely see-through curtains are closed too. Steve can’t see that the sun is already high in the sky and burning everything in its wake, but he can feel it because the room is positively sweltering.

It doesn’t help that they close the door, too.

There’s no actual need, because they’re alone. No one is ever in Steve’s house, but it makes them feel safer having the visual of the door fully shut.

“Oh?” He hadn’t been aware, actually. No one’s ever been around to tell him. Nancy definitely never said anything.

Instead Steve keeps staring at the door, keeps sitting on the side of his bed. The floor isn’t even cold against his bare feet.

“Can’t even get you to shut up when you’re asleep.” Billy’s tone is sharp and his words are harsh, but Steve doesn’t flinch at either. He wants to laugh.

Because he knows Billy – or, he can read Billy. He doesn’t think anyone actually ‘knows Billy’, maybe not Billy himself. And while Billy sure sounds it, he isn’t being mean right now. Not like he can be, when his words bite the worst and make Steve flinch away even though he knows Billy won’t physically hurt him ever again.

So Steve’s grinning even as Billy can’t see it and says, “You wouldn’t want me to, anyway.”

Billy doesn’t reply, so Steve doesn’t know if he’s grinning too, or scowling, or has that sappy look on his face he always refuses exists when Steve brings it up and that he hides away if Steve’s able to see it.

He figures Billy would look really good with a cigarette right now. Would look good bathed in sunlight too, but Steve never draws the curtains, so they’ll have to make do with the light coming off his bedside table.

He’s provided Billy the perfect opportunity to say some gross shit like, know something else I’d rather have your mouth be doing, but Billy doesn’t take the bait.

Ironically, it’s the quiet that makes Steve anxious, not the words. You talk in your sleep.

Steve isn’t good with sleep. He isn’t good with a lot of things, but sleep in particular doesn’t come easy to him anymore.

Sometimes it’s falling asleep that’s the problem, mostly it’s staying asleep. Sometimes it’s impossible to not wake up in the middle of the night screaming, or on the worse night where he doesn’t have enough air to even do that, when the darkness is oppressive and fucking terrifying. Or, not the darkness, but what hides there.

Billy knows about the screaming. And the not screaming. He’s been there for both, has jolted up from the bed to seek out the threat, to fight off whatever’s made Steve so afraid he’s shaking apart in his bed, until he seems to realize there’s nothing there, it’s just the two of them and there’s seemingly no reason for Steve to be as scared as he is.

Yet he can’t stop shaking. Not until long after Billy’s curled himself around him, warm and solid and breathing and alive and safe, they both are, do his limbs fall heavy and the sobbing threatens to take over instead.

It’s not as bad now as it used to be. Isn’t as bad when Billy stays over. Steve’s even started sleeping through the night again, on those nights only.

Steve dreams. Or more accurately, he remembers, with added on events of just how wrong things could’ve gone, nearly did go. Dreams filled with darkness and screams and too many teeth and danger, danger, danger until the anxiety makes him want to tear off his skin and hide away forever.

It’s gnawing at him now, not knowing what Billy may or may not know right this second.

“What’d I say, then?” he asks, going for casual, but his skin is too tight and the line of his shoulders too rigid that Billy will know just by looking at him.

“Loads of things,” Billy says. His voice is deep and a bit gravely, the way it always goes when he’s just woken up.

The lie-in had been accidental. At least they both have the closing shift today. Billy has to stay late to teach the kiddies in the late afternoon and Steve has to lock up the ice cream shop and ask Robin if she wants a ride somewhere, even if she always declines.

“You talked about the ocean,” Billy finally tells him. Tensely, which tells Steve it’s not the entire story. “Kept going on about waves and sunshine and driving down long, deserted roads.”

Oh. Steve feels his mouth go slack as all his muscles relax. It happens so quickly, too quickly. He nearly slumps down so much he slides right off the bed. His skin is too sweaty to glide anywhere, though, which is probably the only thing that saves him and his dignity.

Because what Billy’s leaving out isn’t the part about too many teeth and growls and a bat with nails and keep them safe. It’s that Steve thinks about the ocean and waves and sunshine and driving down long, deserted roads with Billy.

Steve can’t help the smile the breaks out on his face. He can still feel the anxiety swirling around inside him, now there for a different reason because Billy doesn’t really do… this. Feelings or commitments or whatever you might want to call it. He gets scared and makes stupid, impulsive decisions, or he wants to test someone, push them to their limits to see if they’ll really follow through on what he’s pushing for them to do.

Steve talking about not only going to California, but going with Billy is definitely something that’ll make Billy scared enough to do something stupid before he shows up at Steve’s front door again. Tired and worst case bloody and just so fucking sad and filled with anger that only slowly starts to ebb out when he’s got his face pressed into Steve’s hair and Steve’s got his face pressed into Billy’s neck.

“Did I bore you with my travel plans?” Steve lilts. He’d meant to tease, because Billy likes it when he pushes back and Steve loves to push back, but he doesn’t end up doing that.

Billy snorts from behind him and it makes Steve grin wider. Duck his head down even as he knows Billy can’t see how his mouth is stretched out in a smile.

He notices he’s got a set of teeth marks indented in his skin, right on the bone of his wrist. It’s red and a bit sore when he moves his hand around. It’s just deep enough to still be there as a remnant from last night, but not deep enough to have drawn blood that have scabbed over.

He likes it. He always does, and Billy knows that which is why he keeps giving him little marks and bruises he’ll get to run his fingers over during the day when he can’t remember what is a dream and what is reality.

He’ll have to wear a watch to work, though. Robin would give him looks, probably thinking he did it himself while jerking off to keep quiet. And it’s a bit of an awkward place when he has to hand ice cream over to sweaty, tired parents and too hyper children all day. No need to cause a scandal.

“Always yapping away,” Billy groans, but he sounds less tense, has less anger looming right underneath the surface.

Steve hums. “Could stop listening, then, if I’m so annoying.”

And he should sound like he is annoyed, but he really isn’t. This is just how they are, this give and take, push and shove.

Billy’s physically unable to stop listening. Is always paying attention to the point where it’ll go from being a nuisance to too much and the anger will boil over and Billy will snap for whoever’s talking to shut up.

He never does that with Steve. Even with how Steve admittedly does have a way of yammering on and on, words just falling out on top of each other in a mess until he isn’t sure what the point he’d been trying to make was.

Billy’s always sweet when Steve talks. He’s sweet too when the words refuse to come to Steve, when all he can do is gasp for air that’s evading him, Billy’s still listening patiently then too.

He keeps seeing too many teeth, and too many teeth and Billy, and it fucking terrifies him.

And he shouldn’t be thinking like this, because they closed the gate. It’s over. All the demodogs had been taken care of the following couple of weeks; the first one because Steve, Hopper, El and Mrs. Byers had gone out and taken care of them, but after that first week they’d just started to drop dead. They couldn’t handle being cut off, weren’t strong enough to survive without that something tethering them to their own world. They’d only had to dispose the bodies after that.

Billy moves around. Steve hears the sheets being shuffled, feels the dip in the bed as Billy’s probably moved to face him better.

“How would I ever know what you’re thinking, then?” Billy asks, voice light but so heavy with teasing.

Steve should get up and go take that shower he desperately needs. They both have work in an hour or two, and they both need to shower and eat before that, and they won’t have time for either if Steve turns around and takes a look at Billy.

Because he knows what he’ll see and he knows what he’ll want to do instead of all the things he needs to. Knows he’ll want to crawl back onto the bed and down Billy’s body until he can press his nose into the v of his legs, or maybe just settle on top of him until he can sink down, down, down.

“No one ever really wants to know,” Steve tells him a bit distantly. Eyes fixed on the two sets of yesterday’s clothes tossed on the floor right by the door. “The truth can be inconvenient, and people hate being inconvenienced.”

He’s thinking of rows upon rows of teeth and screaming, wishes he could just be thinking of beaches and the ocean and sunshine and worrying if Billy will or won’t want to go with him.

Billy shuffles from behind him again. Steve feels the heat of his hand hovering over the bare skin of his lower back, but Billy never closes the distance.

He’s always been weird about that, careful not to initiate touches if Steve isn’t looking at him.

“You still high, baby?” Billy asks, and Steve wants to laugh. Wants the knots in his stomach and chest to go away until he can finally be content.

He never comes closer to that feeling than in moments like this one. Moments where it’s easy to breathe even with everything he’s trying to leave behind.

Their work uniforms are lying in a tangled heap on Steve’s bedroom floor where they’d dropped them last night. The red of Billy’s swimming trunks shines brighter than the rest of the clothes. They’ll be all creased and messy by now, and Steve will have to iron the sailor suit before he goes to work, which Billy will make fun of him for, but he can’t just not do it. He really needs to get started on his day if he wants to have time for everything.

Instead he turns around. Slides back fully on the bed, settles between Billy’s legs, and holds himself over him, perched up on his elbows by Billy’s head. He’s careful not to press down on Billy’s hair, to not accidentally squash any of the golden curls.

Billy’s a fucking vision underneath him, is a vision in general.

“High on life,” he drawls exaggeratedly. Takes a risk and presses a kiss to Billy’s chest.

“High on love.” Doesn’t look further up than Billy’s mouth, can’t take the risk of looking him in the eyes. He’s still smiling, soft and sweet, and his body hasn’t grown tense underneath him.

“High on you.”

Chances a look. Billy rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling and relaxed and letting Steve do whatever.

Billy raises his hand, runs his fingers along Steve’s jaw, up his cheek, down his nose, over his cupid’s bow, over his lips and settles on his chin. The pad of his thumb presses down until Steve gets the hint and lets his mouth fall open easily underneath Billy’s administrations.

His thumb moves up, traces over the line of Steve’s bottom lip, holds down until the wet, shiny bit of Steve’s mouth starts to show.

“Jesus, you’re pretty,” Billy mutters. His pupils are blown and his gaze is fixed on Steve.

And Steve loves it.

“Got to be, don’t I?” Steve asks when Billy isn’t holding his mouth open anymore. Drops down from his elbows until he’s lying fully on top of Billy. “To keep your attention.”

Billy snorts. “Oh, yeah. You’ve got so much competition, pretty boy.”

Steve beams. Likes it when Billy breaks out the sweet names that are only slightly mocking. Likes it when Billy unintentionally reveals just how much moments like these mean to him too, that it’s not just Steve who feels it.

Steve hums. “Bathing suits have never sold this well before, you know.”

That startles a laugh out of Billy. He’s shaking with it, and in turn shaking Steve.

He’s got laughter lines around his eyes and his mouth, Steve realizes. He likes the look of them, likes knowing he was the one who brought them out this time. Made Billy laugh hard enough that they couldn’t keep hidden in smooth, tanned skin.

“Saw Mrs. Wheeler get a new one the other day,” Steve continues before Billy’s managed to settle down.

“That so?” Billy’s still giggling. His hand smoothes over the line of Steve’s torso, tickling along his ribs until he wants to squirm with it, but he keeps still. He’s being good. “Think you’d look prettier in it, baby.”

Steve can’t help the pleased smile that shows on his face. “Not quite my colors.” Finally squirms when it becomes too much.

Billy’s grinning, looking like a predator with sharp teeth and clever eyes. Like someone who’s just caught their prey, and it makes Steve want to squirm until he can burrow his way into Billy’s chest and just stay there.

A hand runs through his hair, tugs a bit until his mouth falls open reflexively.

“Every color is your color,” Billy drawls. Steve can tell he doesn’t really care about that though, isn’t thinking about which colors are complementary to Steve’s skin tone. “If you can rock the sailor outfit anything works.”

Steve scowls at him. “I look fucking cute in that sailor outfit, asshole.” It’s not his fault there’s a stupid hat.

Billy tugs a bit harder around his handful of hair, sending a deliciously sharp pain sparking down the line of his spine, makes him shiver with it.

“Said so, didn’t I?” Billy reminds him.

He had, Steve has to concede in the end. Doesn’t do it verbally, because he doesn’t want Billy to gloat for, like, a week, which Steve knows he’ll do. He’s an infuriating asshole like that.

He still presses another kiss to the sleep-warm skin right near his mouth. Makes it a bit wet, licks with just the tip of his tongue until Billy’s eyes darken and Steve can feel his pulse picking up.

He tastes of salt and sweat and Billy, and it’s so good. He moves along his skin until he ends up at Billy’s right shoulder, just over the top of his bicep, right at the tattoo.

He’d gotten it on the night of his 18th birthday, back in April. Had had a bloody nose the day after and a proper shiner.

Steve had laughed when he first saw the tattoo, because it’s so Billy it’s slightly hilarious. It’s so fucking dramatic, but it’s also so fucking sad or some shit, so it was either laughing or crying and Steve does enough crying in front of Billy during the night.

Because maybe it’s for bragging rights, like Billy claims. Some kind of street cred about having a skull tattooed onto your body that Steve will never fully understand, but Steve sees.

The cigarette dangling out of the skull’s mouth, the smoke curling up towards his shoulder, reminds him a little too much of the way Billy likes to leave a cigarette in his mouth, likes to feel the way his lips will curl around it, the way he can hold it still between his teeth.

If the skull didn’t say enough by itself, the dead look in his eyes that Billy sometimes gets should be the final nail in the coffin. At least it’s summer and Billy’s lack of a uniform, so to speak, means there’s nowhere to hide away the bruises. Steve’s also fairly certain Billy’s and Max’s mom and dad are out of town, because he’s seen Max run around the mall with the boys at all sorts of hours that he knows she never would’ve been allowed out at if Billy wasn’t the one in charge.

He should tell him, Steve thinks again. Tries to dismiss the thought, because, no.

Not only will Billy laugh and call him a nutcase, Billy will leave. He’ll leave and he’ll never come back.

And Steve is selfish. He’s selfish and he’s bullshit and he falls in love with all the wrong kinds of people. And he doesn’t want to be left alone again. He can’t.

“Can’t believe you went out and bought new shoes just so you could color coordinate.” Billy says the word like it actually pains him to acknowledge he has that term in his vocabulary, even though Steve’s fairly certain he knew about it before Steve ever told him.

Steve frowns. “But they’re literally the perfect match? How could you honestly expect me not to –“

He umph’s when Billy suddenly drags his body up along his own. They’re both too sweaty and it burns when their skins stick together, but then Steve’s close enough that Billy can kiss him quiet.

He should tell him, he thinks again. What if it’ll end up being what saves his life?

It’s a nagging little thought that never fully goes away. Is there every single time Steve looks at Billy or thinks of Billy or worries about Billy when he wakes up in the middle of the night screaming and Billy isn’t there.

And he shouldn’t even be thinking about it, because the gate is closed. No more monsters, no more weird labs, no more getting beat up, no more weird mysteries, no more deaths. It’s done and over with, and telling Billy would put him in danger along with Steve, if it’s any indication the way the government officials had hunted him down afterwards and made him sign wads of paper after paper.

But what if, a voice in his head traitorously whispers. Then Billy licks over the seam of Steve’s lips and it’s easier to not think about any of it.

Billy would leave, but before that he’d call him stupid, an idiot, crazy, exactly what everyone else calls him, and what Steve hates being called, and what Billy never calls him because he knows Steve hates it.

He’ll tell him, he decides when Billy rolls them over so he’s on top, situated between Steve’s legs, hands wrapped around his wrists and holding them up over his head, and kissing him lazily like they have all the time in the world, if it ever comes down to it. If it’ll ever be necessary. He’ll tell him.

If it ever comes back, if it ever seems like ignorance isn’t bliss anymore, like knowing might just end up being what’ll save Billy’s life, Steve will tell him. About everything. About monsters and too many teeth and screaming and all the deaths and constantly being so fucking scared. He’ll tell him.

And he’ll let him laugh at him and he’ll let him call him bad names that’ll haunt him for a long, long time, and it’ll all be worth it because it means Billy’s alive to do it.

He’ll tell him, and then forgets about everything else and just focuses on kissing Billy.

Four days later, he’s trapped in a Russian elevator. Dustin and Erica are asleep while he and Robin try to figure out something that could help them break out of here, but it’s difficult when all Steve can think about is how he should’ve told Billy when he had the chance.

Mind you, he never would’ve thought Russians were what they had to be afraid of. And they have no reason to think any of this is connected to the Upside Down, but Steve still feels the regret festering in the back of his mind.

He hasn’t seen Billy since Friday morning-noon-ish. Since Billy had pressed him up against the inside of his front door, trailing biting kisses along his skin until they’d both nearly been late for work.

Steve hopes it hasn’t made a difference not telling Billy. Billy, who, theoretically, should be safe, because he spends most of the day at the pool, which is so public no monster is going to be charging through there all willy-nilly, and Cherry Lane is far enough away from the woods that it should be secure. Safer than Steve’s house, apparently, maybe even ironically, considering the other type of monster that lurks around Cherry Lane.

He’ll tell him when they get out of here, he decides. First thing, doesn’t matter if this is only the Red Army infiltrating or if there’s some Upside Down business involved as well, Steve’s going to tell him. Just hopes he won’t be too late to do so.

Because, what if, the voice keeps tormenting.

#harringrove #Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington #Stranger Things fanfiction #Harringrove fanfiction #dutten-does-the-fanfic

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hillywooddestiel · 5 years

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Stranger Things Have Happened- Chaper Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Scatter and Run

Characters: Y/N Winchester, Hopper, Joyce, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Eleven, Steve, Sam, Dean

Warnings: angst, language

Word count: 1.7k

Series description: Hawkins, Indiana, November 1983. The Winchesters got out of hunting and decided to settle down in a small town. The youngest of the three, Y/N, just wants to get on with her somewhat normal life and go to a good college. But that’s a little tricky when disappearances start occurring, including her friend Barbara Holland, and there’s reports of a mysterious new girl in town. Can she balance boyfriends, teen drama and monster hunting?

A/N: What’s this? STHH? A new part? Who is she? Since the new series I am on a bit of a Stranger Things kick so I hope to finish this series soon. How good is S3??? Love it!!! Obviously this is S1 so this is a safe series to read. Enjoy xx Series Masterlist Masterlist

Story:

We empty bag after bag of salt into a kid’s paddling pool then fill it full of water. Dustin and Lucas take charge of the temperature until we reach exactly 93.5° Fahrenheit, yelling to Nancy to change the taps every minute. I go to source towels from somewhere, eventually finding a couple in the coach's office. They smell a little funky but seem clean so they'll do the job. When I return, Eleven is talking to Joyce. The poor girl is trembling, eyes fixed on the large pool of still water in the same way Sam looks at clowns- true fear. I do wish my brothers were here. They would be a great help in this crazy situation. Sam would read up on alternative universes and missing people cases in the town. Dean would prepare all of the tools we need for the hunt and lecture me about staying safe, following his rules and, most importantly, not going off on my own. I would do anything and everything I was allowed to do when Dean was watching (and a whole lot more when he wasn't). It would be just like old times.

Socks rolled down and goggles in hand, Eleven wades into the water holding on tightly to Joyce's hand. Her dress billows around her as she takes a seat, adjusting the goggles on her face to block out any light. The lights flicker and the gym goes dark. Eleven floats on the surface of the salty water while the rest of us sit in silence. The static from the radio is almost deafening, it keeps me on edge.

“Barbara…” Eleven mumbles, the lights pulsating.

“What's going on?”

“I don't know.” Mike replies to Nancy's question.

“Is Barb okay? Is she okay?”

“Gone. Gone.” Eleven says, tears building in Nancy's eyes. Jonathan pulls her for a hug, whispering small comforts in her ear. Barb is gone. Dead. My friend, who was still getting to know, is dead just like many other people before her who got close to me or my family. Of course, I can't pin the whole situation on myself; as far as we know this parallel universe has appeared here as a coincidence and has nothing to do with Sam, Dean or myself.

“It's okay, it's okay honey. I'm here, it's okay.” Joyce holds onto Eleven in the water while keeping her in her trance. “It's okay, I'm right here. I'm right here.” Everything calms once again and we return to silence around the pool, all hope pinned on Will still being alive. Nancy sniffles, the tears falling quietly now and I reach my hand out to hers. I smile weakly as a show of support; she's going to be grieving her friend unable to tell the truth to anyone outside of this room.

“Castle Byers.” Eleven says making Joyce and Jonathan perk up, “Will?”

“You tell him… you tell him I'm coming. Mom is coming.” Joyce gasps, full of relief.

“Your mom, she's coming for you.” Eleven communicates to Will. The radio crackles and the voice of a scared little boy comes through,

“Hurry.”

“You tell him, tell him to stay where he is. I'm coming.”

“Your mom, she's coming. Just hold on a little longer Will. Will! Will!” Eleven stirs herself back to full consciousness, ripping the goggles from her head and clinging to Joyce for dear life.

“It's okay. It's okay honey, I've got you. I've got you.”

Wrapped tightly in several towels, Eleven sits shivering on the gym seats with Mike, Lucas, Dustin and myself. For someone so small, she is incredibly powerful. Mike tells me of how she rescued him at the cliffs from a group of bullies while she hugs into my side to keep warm.

“That's incredible!” I exclaim. Eleven looks to me with sleepy eyes with a slight smile, resting her head on my side to take a well deserved nap. Hopper and Joyce having a domestic outside tears my attention away from the boys’ stories.

“He's my son Hop! My son. I'm going!”

“‘Scuse me a second guys.” I deposit Eleven on Mike's shoulder and jog to catch up with everyone outside.

“Joyce! Let's go!” Hopper yells from his car, “No! You're not coming.” He points a finger harshly at me before getting in.

“You've got to be kidding me! Who says you get to go and not me?”

“I do! You're staying here where it's safe. Joyce is already coming, I can't risk you too kid.”

“But-”

“I said no! Get back inside.” And with that, Chief Hopper floors it out of the school. I watch the car disappear, deliberating running home for my own car and chasing after them. Sam and Dean will probably ask questions if I leave the house with a bunch of guns and gear- maybe that's not such a good idea. Then again, they could be a great help here. No. They chose to leave the life, this isn't on them; just because they know about this stuff doesn't mean they should be forced to jump in and save the day. I just happen to be wrapped up in it a little bit.

Jonathan is gone when I turn back around to head into the gym and he's nowhere to be seen inside either. I go over to the kids and ask them where he went.

“He was with Nancy.” Mike explains.

“Well I can't find either of them.”

“What?!” Mike jumps up and speed walks outside, myself following quicky behind. He looks around the grounds, releasing an exasperated sigh before going back in.

“They're gone!”

“What?”

“Nancy and Jonathan. His car's gone.” Mike explains. Ah, I didn't notice that small detail.

“They're probably just sucking face somewhere.” Dustin comments, being delightful as always.

“No. No way.” Mike argues and he's probably right; those two are just friends that have been mixed up in a case. Nothing more.

“Did they go with the Chief?”

“I don't know.”

“No.” Eleven says taking us all by surprise.

“What? Did you see them? Do you know where they went?” Mike asks frantically.

“Yes.”

“Where? Where did they go?”

“...Demogorgon.” Shit! No time to even think, I take off in a run.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Dustin shouts after me.

“To go stop them!”

I have not run like this in months so by the time I reach the end of my street, I am close to passing out- maybe I should have taken Sam up on his offer of joining him running last week. Dean pokes his head out of the kitchen when he hears me come through the door, his face contorted in annoyance.

“Umm, where have you been?”

“Nancy's. Is it cool if I stay over there tonight?”

“You've been out all day without a word to either of us. No, clean up and come have dinner.”

“But she’s been super down about Barb all day. She really needs me to be there for her.” The words taste sour, using Barb like this to manipulate Dean. I’m so sorry Barb, I can only hope you understand.

“Can’t you call her?”

“What’s going on?” Sam joins the party. Great. Just great. “I need to be there for her in person Dean, she is upset and needs someone. Don’t forget Barb was my friend too.”

“Dean, let her go.” Sam sighs, looking sympathetically at me.

“But she-”

“Dean.” Sam gives Dean a look I can only describe as a mother scolding her child, “Tell Nancy we said hey.”

“Fine, you can go. But you better be back for dinner tomorrow.”

“I promise. Thanks Dean.” I smile as best I can before hurrying upstairs and grabbing my emergency hunting kit from under my bed. I have a feeling I know where Nancy went with Jonathan. I hope I'm right.

Jonathan's car is parked outside his house when I finally pull up- why they choose to live so far out of town I'll never know. And Steve's car is here. Steve? He gets out and scuffs his feet all the way to the front door, bashing on it and leaning against the frame. What is he doing here? Seriously, what the hell? Nancy answers the door, opening it very slightly. She looks stressed out; she looks even more stressed than when Ms. Amon sprang that surprise history quiz on us that would contribute to our final grade. I thought she was going to vomit at her desk. So why would she be looking like that towards Steve? They better not have come up with some stupid death wish mission to help the chief. Steve pushes his way inside and I can hear them all raise their voices from the car. Go time.

Taking Dean's gun from my duffel bag, I stalk my way to the house (yes, I took it again but he doesn't need it right now). The walls are super thin so their conversation is loud and clear from here.

“Okay, is this a joke? Stop! Put the gun down!” Nancy what the fuck are you doing?! Hastily, I kick the door down with my booted foot, the wood splintering and smacking the wall. Steve, Nancy and Jonathan swivel their heads to look at me, eyes full of fear and shock.

“Is that gasoline?” I sniff the air.

“Y/N?!” Steve screeches, his face still a bloody, beat-up mess from earlier.

“Y/N what are you doing here?” Nancy asks and I'm sure it's accidental that age ends up pointing her gun at me.

“Nancy…” Jonathan mutters, going unnoticed in the cacophony of confusion.

“You two just left me behind with the kids, what was I meant to do?”

“What are you guys talking about?! And can you please put the guns down.” Steve stresses, arms raised at each of us as though they'll stop bullets.

“You need to leave, Steve.”

“Nancy.”

“No no no no wait no!”

“Nancy!”

“What, Jonathan?”

“The lights!”

STHH Tags

@marslovesme @bluedefundead @elenavaldez09 @mysanityisgone27 @adridedong @princess-of-erebor1992 @coffeeandwinchesters

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blancheludis · 5 years

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@whumptober2019 Day 8: Stab Wound

Fandom: MCU, Avengers Characters: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Nebula Tags: Lost In Space, post-Infinity War, Infection, Friendship, Hope, Grief, Hurt Tony Words: 2.370

Summary: Stranded in space, Tony knows he is going to die, whether it will be from infection, starvation, or the lack of oxygen. He has been running from his fate since he flew that nuke through the wormhole. This time, at least, he won't be dying alone.

---

The wound gets infected. Of course, it does. Tony has built his suits to withstand extensive damage and to administer first aid so he can keep standing long enough to get to Medical. Being stranded in space with no hopes of reaching a hospital within a reasonable time frame never really registered as a possible emergency – and that despite him having nearly died in space before.

As it is, the infection might at least kill him before the starvation does, or the lack of oxygen. Since the engine failed, all three scenarios have become rather likely.

The fever and the lack of nutrients leave him no quiet minute. He sees Peter dying in his arms whenever he closes his eyes. He worries about what he will find back on Earth. If Rhodey or Pepper are gone too, it might be the better option not to get back at all.

Nebula is a soothing companion. She does not have much regard for the limits of a human body, and Tony is almost convinced she would have left him on Titan if he had not pulled his weight in getting the ship back into shape. As little good as it did them.

They do not talk much at first, both caught in their grief and their anger, wanting to forget what happened while wishing to enact their revenge. They are a good team in steering the ship while breeding. At least until the engines die.

“Thanos knows you,” Nebula says when they have tried everything to get the ship running again.

They are sitting in the cockpit, staring at the vast expanse of empty space in front of them, wondering if this is the last thing they will ever see.

Tony imagines the stars being blocked out by the Chitauri ships, imagines them being swallowed by a leviathan. His fear has not abated by meeting the creatures’ master.

“I’ve seen his army before,” Tony says, unable to meet Nebula’s eyes, even while he feels them burning into him.

What a pair they make. Thanos’ daughter and the man who could not stop him despite knowing he was coming.

“When he sent Loki to Earth.” Nebula nods as if there is nothing strange about that. Perhaps she remembers Thanos’ disappointment at Loki’s failure. Perhaps she thought she could have done a better job.

Tony has not yet asked her why she ended up on their side of the fight. Losing her sister might have been the reason, but there is too much resentment buried in Nebula’s movements, too much desperation.

He is glad to have an ally, even a tentative one. If he were stranded in space alone after seeing his entire team disintegrate – he is sure he would have never even made it this far.

“I sent a nuke after him,” Tony says and even manages a smile. They were all still so young back then. The Avengers were still full of opportunity instead of old grudges. “I should have died back then.”

Tony has stopped counting the times he should have died. Has stopped weighing it against the reasons to live. He never really liked the answers he got from that.

“You’re going to die from this,” Nebula says solemnly, looking at him with old eyes.

Tony turns to look at her, away from the stars. “Yes.” Another small smile. He is ready.

Nebula leans forward, reaches out as if to touch him but stops herself a few inches over his feverish skin.

“You’re not going to die from this,” she says, and maybe that is what she has been saying all along. He is not sure. He does not even know which version he prefers.

Death is just another old friend. He has been waiting patiently at every turn Tony took. Perhaps it is time to stop avoiding him. He has let enough friends down already.

“Thanos does not just remember anyone’s name,” Nebula remarks quietly.

Her thoughts circle around the same topics Tony’s does. About loss and their defeat, about whether Thanos can be stopped, even though the worst has already happened.

“I’d say I feel honoured,” Tony replies without humour, “but frankly I don’t care.”

Nebula gets up abruptly, leaving him to his fever dreams, to his fears flashing in front of his eyes. Nothing new here. Only that they have all come true.

The ship is not big enough for them to never run into each other. Neither of them wants to be alone anyway, although they would not admit to it. Nebula is quiet. Any other time, Tony might have talked for the both of them, tried to put her at ease, to open up. Now, however, he simply joins her in silence and they fit together well despite that.

Tony does not know what to do with himself. He is in constant pain, the fever makes him see things that are not there. He hears Peter’s last words over and over. He wonders what he could have done to keep his world from falling apart.

Pepper has always prophesized that Iron Man would kill him. First the palladium poisoning, then being targeted, then ending up on the wrong side of Captain America’s shield. Now he got stabbed by his own invention. It does not matter whether it was Thanos’ hand guiding the sword, or whether it is the infection killing him. This is Tony’s own doing.

He still has so many regrets. More now than when he left Earth. He should have known there is no escaping them.

The thing is, he does not particularly want to go back to Earth. He has seen his entire motley group of fighters disintegrate into dust on Titan. If he does not go back, they will all still be alive. Pepper and Rhodey and Happy. Even Steve and the rest of the Avengers. He will not have to grieve any more people, will not have to look May and confess that he could not save Peter. He will not have to search for a way to save everyone and fail.

“This will help.”

Nebula appears next to him suddenly. He does not know when he last saw her. It could have been hours, could have been days. If she does not want to be seen, she disappears, no matter how hard he looks. Tony wishes he could do the same, could escape his own constant scrutiny.

She thrusts something into his face. It looks like a mixture between a tube and a soldering iron. It is nothing to eat and it does not look like they will get the engines running with it. Perhaps Nebula is offering him an assisted suicide to end his suffering.

“What –” he asks but stops himself. He is not sure he wants to know. Less so when he sees the impatience on her face.

“It’s for the wound,” Nebula prompts.

Without further ado, she tugs at Tony’s shirt while pushing him back into the pilot’s seat. He still looks when she pulls off the bandages, revealing the oozing mess underneath.

The wound is not big as much as it is deep. The blade did not cut any vital organs or Tony’s suffering would have been over much sooner. If Thanos had done it right, Tony would not have needed to see Peter die. He could have gone home before that.

The nanites Tony applied helped to stitch his insides together, but what is left is still an ugly crater of inflamed skin and burning flesh. Considering how much punishment Tony put his body through over the course of his life, it is a miracle how well it fights against the infection. If this was a full-blown sepsis, he would not manage to be upright at all anymore.

“This will hurt,” Nebula says. That is the only warning Tony gets before she lowers her technical wand down on his skin and pushes.

It does hurt. More than the actual stabbing. More than the various forms of torture the Ten Rings put him through. It feels like his insides are torn apart and someone is branding him at the same time.

For several agonizing minutes, Tony is caught between wanting to scream and clawing at his skin. He struggles, unable to think clearly. In his weakened state, he pushes against Nebula’s arm and chest, tries to keep her away from him. She does not even budge. She does not tell him to stop either, she simply keeps doing her work, without pity or anger.

Then the pain becomes too much and Tony welcomes the darkness pulling him under gladly. Perhaps his life will look brighter when he comes back to consciousness.

---

The stars look the same when he opens his eyes. They are teasing him from far away, laughing at these two insignificant beings trapped in eternity.

Tony breathes while he keeps himself very still, afraid of the pain he clearly remembers. There is still an ache originating from his side, and he still feels clammy, feverish. The agony he has come to accept as his new normal is dampened, though.

When he stirs, he does so abruptly, sitting up straight in the pilot’s seat. It does hurt, but it is more like the pulling of a bruise than the grinding of inflamed flesh against itself.

“You’re awake,” Nebula says.

She is sitting next to him, looking him over with somewhat less detachment than he has come to expect of her. Tony hopes she is not going soft. Dying in space is hard enough without losing someone else he cares for. Then again, it might already be too late for that.

He does not know what she has done, but he feels much better already. Still weak, still grieving, still aching, but he is not on death’s door anymore. He cannot help but think that she should not have wasted that miracle on him.

“Why would you do that for me?” he has to ask, unable to think of a reason on his own.

Why would you save me? Why would you not take the chance of having more oxygen and water for yourself?

She scoffs as if she knew what he was thinking. “Thanos is afraid of you,” she then say. If she really thinks that, they remember the fight on Titan very differently. Only one of them is afraid and it certainly is not the one who just won the war. “And the Wizard gave up the Time Stone for you.”

Tony closes his eyes, breathing against the instant panic flooding his system. Strange had promised he would not do this, that he would not give the stone up for anything and certainly not for Tony. His life would have been a small price to pay if they could have stopped Thanos for it, if only they could have kept the stone out of his hands.

“I didn’t ask him to,” Tony says. It is nothing more than a whisper, thanks to the shame he feels at having to admit his part in failing the entire universe.

“I wouldn’t think so,” Nebula speaks up impatiently. She does not look like she is angry at Strange giving their chance away. “He was a guardian. He wouldn’t have given up the stone if it weren’t for a purpose.”

What purpose could be good enough to damn half the universe for? Strange said he could see the future, that he watches fourteen billion paths and that they won only one of them. What good is it to save Tony’s life if he is only going to die now, adrift in space?

“It’s done,” Tony says, almost choking on the words. “We’ve lost.”

Nebula looks at him like he has said something stupid, like she thought better of him.

“The stones are as old as the universe,” she says, disgust in her tone that has nothing to do with their mission. “What has been done with them can be undone.”

Tony shakes his head and welcomes the dizziness that comes with it. He does not want to hear this, does not want to be caught in highly hypothetical hopes where this is not their reality, where they do not have a way out. Having hopes only leads to getting crushed worse than before. He is sure he cannot deal with the terrifying ordeal of piecing himself together again.

“We failed,” he says with as much firmness as he can muster. “You saw it. We weren’t – we weren’t enough and now they’re dead. And I – Peter –”

Tony will never be able to forget the way Peter clung to him, becoming less with ever breath, feeling every second of his death where the others simply faded away.

“I lost my sister,” Nebula snaps him out of his memories. Grief clings to her voice, but she is still holding onto her anger. “We haven’t been close but – we can’t let him get away with it.”

Thanos already got away with it. It is done.

“Without the engines, we’re not going anywhere,” Tony says, reaching for a tangible reason of why they will not be able to save the universe, just so he does not have to say that he does not think he can do it.

Strangely, Nebula’s expression softens. It is barely enough to notice, but Tony has looked at her a lot over the past days, the only living thing within thousands of lightyears.

“Sleep, Stark,” she says, sounding almost soft enough that Tony could believe she has a plan. “Your wound should get better now.”

And then what? They are still going to die out here. They have still failed. Tony thinks it is still nice that Nebula believes he still has a purpose, that things might not be as hopeless as they look. One of them should have the courage to meet the future head on.

Sleep does sound good, though. He is tired. Their situation will not get worse if he closes his eyes for a bit. Once he wakes, the same stars will greet him, the same empty expanse of space.

Nebula will be here too, at least. That is the one good thing about this entire miserable situation. He will not die alone.

#whumptober2019 #no. 8 #stab wound #tony stark #nebula #whump #hurt tony #adrift in space #infection #grief #post infinity war #friendship #hope #my writing #ao3 #fanfiction

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