Notes: fluffy, silly, sweet, some swearing, mentions of anxiety.
A/N: this was somehow inspired by the song Bright Eyes by Simon and Garfunkel. Dunno how. AND! First OC! Felt the need to switch it up a bit. Enjoy!
His heart skips a beat, then another, as it always does when he sees her. It’s not a coincidence, not at all. He makes sure he’s there every Saturday, 11 AM, at the same spot at the same park. It’s easy enough, he just took it up in his routine to run around the park about twenty times, leaving his apartment around 10, walk across town -all of town- and get up a good sweat. She seems as meticulous about her routine as he is; she always jogs right past him at 11 AM on the dot, rain or shine. At that time Bucky’s always at one of the park benches, pretending to take a break to stretch. But the moment she passes him by, he waits a few more seconds and takes off again, following her path. He’s done this for about three weeks now, ever since he decided he wanted some different scenery from the route he used to run. The first time he saw her he felt like his heart was going to give out, his lungs didn’t seem to have the capacity to hold oxygen for him. He followed her without really noticing, and before he knew it she’d stopped and made ready to leave. He had just enough of his resolve left to not follow her straight home and snapped out of it at the entrance of the park.
Summary: In which a friendship drastically changes due to an all-campus text alert about a strange man wandering the campus.
A/N: Another one from draft-purgatory. It feels weird releasing it into the wild.
“I hate you. So. Much,” Bucky deadpans, looking up from a stapled packet of papers. “It takes me two weeks to write something of this quality, yet you pulled it off in two hours.”
"We’ll know if it’s really ‘quality’ when Professor Coulson gives it back,” you yawn, snatching the 18-page research paper from him.
“How do I obtain your kind of focus? What’s your secret?”
“The startling realization that a deadline is actually 8am and not 8pm.”
The brunette stares at you as if you just grew a third eye on your forehead. “You’re either completely insane or a brilliant genius,” Bucky sighs with either admiration or exasperation.
“Well, all this insane genius wants to do right now is sleep,” you sleepily murmur as you slide your paper back into your bag.
“Too bad Coulson docks points if you’re absent.” Bucky swings his messenger bag around and swiftly zips it open and pulls out a bottled iced coffee. “Take this,” he nudges.
“No, for the unicorn behind you,” Bucky sarcastically says, pushing the iced coffee towards you. “I can tell by your dark circles that you didn’t sleep much. Take it, you have class until 8pm today,” he insists.
Touched, you take the iced coffee and scrunch up your face in a cute way, but you don’t know that, of course. “You’re one of a kind, James Barnes,” you grin.
Bucky crosses his arms against his chest, a slightly peeved look crossing his face. “How many times did I ask you not to call me 'James’?“ he defeatedly sighs.
"A little less than a million times.” You laugh as Bucky looks like he can’t decide on laughing with you or strangling you, but both of you know that you’re absolutely right.
The automobile blared its horn as it barreled past her, a warning to the woman before its wheels splashed the puddle of water left by the morning showers into her well-shined shoes. A glance up was spared through her tumble of loose curls for the offending vehicle’s retreating form before she resumed trudging along, weaving her body through the flow of people pushing the other way. Her feet now squelched as the after work crowd bustled to return home. She however, headed towards the outskirts of the city, to that spot beneath the lamppost that overlooked the harbor—the place Bucky first kissed her. The place she had watched his battalion ship out from. And now, the place where she allowed herself to collapse.
She slid down the pole to sit on the damp concrete. Here, there were few people to skirt around her and those who did were too busy with their own lives to pay mind to the woman sprawled on the corner of the Brooklyn streets. The dull clouds trembled in anticipation of a coming shower and her own eyes welled with similar purpose in mind.
Notes: angst, fluff, smut, violence, torture/conditioning, dubious medical procedures.
A/N: Explanations, history and Stucky smut.
10 years ago, Nevada Hydra Omega testing facility
“How is my beautiful girl doing?”
“Very well, doctor Zola. Project Javen is almost ready”
“Good. Proceed with caution. We don’t have much cells left, this one has to work” Zola’s thick accent fills the observation room. He’s looking at the cilinder tank, filled with a thick green substance, wires connecting to a seemingly invisible target.
It’s an organism. An organism built from a few cells, growing before their eyes.
Summary: Bucky has a feeling you’re cheating on him with Sam. After a lot of brooding and thought, he decides to confront the two of you.
soundtrack: “¿Dónde estás, Yolanda?”
A/N: I can’t do angst to save my life, so this story takes on a very different direction than originally intended. -j xx
“I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me.”
Bucky grimaces, hating how those words taste on his tongue. He refuses to look at Steve, because the gnawing feeling in his stomach will get only worse once he looks at his friend’s shocked eyes. “Whenever I ask her how her day was or what she did, she clams up and gives me some weird answer or excuse,” he continues.”
Steve rubs his jaw. "Buck, that’s not enough to assume that (Y/N)’s cheating on you.”
Bucky fishes his phone out of his leather jacket and pushes it towards Steve. “This is overbearing of me, but I asked Nat to do a little recon,” he sighs. “Whenever I look at these photos, a little voice in my head nags ‘Cheater cheater!’”
Steve uneasily scrolls through the different high-quality photos of you secretively walking out of a suite at the Avengers Tower. “Whose room is she leaving?“ he asks.
"Sam’s. It’s been going for about two weeks now.”
Steve practically spits out his coffee. “WHAT?”
Bucky feels drained as he takes his phone back. “Nat said that after (Y/N) leaves, Sam’s whistling around the tower. And you know Sam only whistles after one thing.”
Oh, every Avenger in the tower knew what the whistling meant. It was Sam Wilson’s telltale sign that he got lucky with a woman.
Steve shakes his head in disbelief. “(Y/N) and Sam? I mean, you and Sam… but… what?”
Authors notes: Still pressing on with this series. I really like this story and even though the most of you don’t, I’m not quitting on it. Also, thank you @cassiopeiassky for your enthusiasm with this. lol
Notes/Warnings: Use of guns and knives(just cleaning them though) anxiety and stress
May slept for seventeen hours straight and even after she woke up it was another two hours before she came out of her room.
Bucky heard her bare feet on the hardwood floor on the hallway and put his knives and cleaning rags down. He twisted on the couch to turn and face her. Her hair was wet from her shower and she was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. she rubbed her face and shuffled towards the fridge.
“Hey,” He called. “There’s pizza in there if you want that. I was going to cook something but nothing is going to takes as good after that roast from the other night.” He offered a small grin and she returned it.
“Thanks, pizza sounds good.” Her voice was small and she slouched a bit to reach into the fridge.
Clint: Ice ice baby, he’ll even sing it to you as he drags a frigid cube across your torso and up to devastatingly circle your nipple. It’s a nearly painful opposition to the heat flowing between you, but is still straddling that line of delicious pleasure.
Pietro: Pietro wastes no time, kissing you whenever he wants. If you’re in the kitchen cooking, he’ll have you on the counter with your legs hooked around his waist before you can blink. He lives for the thrill that someone might walk in. Though with his speed, it’s unlikely anyone will be fast enough to catch the two of you in the act.
Steve: With a face that boasts pure innocence, the Captain can get away with murmuring any number of filthy things into your ear at the dinner table. He makes promises of things he will do later and he does not disappoint. And later on, the words that fall from his mouth as he moves inside you would make even a sailor blush.
T’challa: The King has an exquisite taste pallet already from his fine upbringing. When he discovers delectable items such as chocolate or honey smeared across your naked body, he can’t help but ravish every inch of it.
Tony: It’s hard enough to breathe in the magnificence of Tony Stark as it is, but the first time his hand accidentally reaches across your throat, both of you pause for a second and consider. Now you regularly enjoy the thrill of a bit of suffocation.
Scott: Scott is all about sensations, no matter how small. Adding a blindfold to the mix allows you to feel just how wonderful his mouth is against the inside of your thigh, or the minute caresses of his gentle fingers down your sides as he breathes your name into the juncture of your neck.
Thor: For all the power this god holds, he loves to switch things around when it comes to the bedroom. Tie him up and watch as the helplessness drives him mad. He lives for the nights when you take absolute control over him.
Bucky: Bucky loves to watch you absolutely writhing from his touch. What he loves most is hearing you beg him for more, to let you climax over his incessant fingers. “Not yet, doll,” he’ll whisper just to drive you mad. Denial gets him off almost as much as being inside you.
Sam: Normal eyes could spot you in that sexy police woman outfit from miles off, so it takes Sam’s falcon vision only moments to pick you out from across the house where you casually stroll, swinging your baton. It takes him even less time to rip it off and show you just how naughty he can be.
Based off this request. Plot: Bucky has a nightmare, and the reader sings to him to help him fall back to sleep. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Words: 727 (a little shorter than what I’ve written before, but still v fluffy) Warnings: None :)
At first, you weren’t sure if it was just your imagination, or actual whimpers from the room next door. After the first ear-piercing cry lets out, your feet are on the floor in record time, sprinting to Bucky’s room.
He’s having a nightmare. You find him curled into a tight ball, knees to his chest, and shaking. Sweat covers his arms and legs, soaking the shirt he’s wearing along with the sheets surrounding him. Well, the ones that are still on the bed, at least. His breathing is uneven and quick, with low whimpers breaking up the screams.
You rush to his side and start shaking him. “Bucky, Bucky! Please wake up, please!”
With a few rough shakes, he comes to, flailing his arms before he realizes where he’s at.
“(Y/N)…” Bucky’s eyes are wide, focusing in on you. He’s scared.
Notes: angst, fluff, smut, violence, torture/conditioning, dubious medical procedures.
A/N: I’ve been feeling sick these days and I meant to post this yesterday, really, but I fell asleep, and I fell asleep again tonight. So, almost four in the morning, and I’m posting this before I fall asleep again, dammit! Lost of explaining and some revelations in the next chapter!
Steve lounges around the house while Bucky’s away, drawing up the next few things commissioned, he even got a request for a painting from Tony Stark himself, even though he hasn’t had as much experience with painting; the man apparently liked what he saw. Tony Stark, humanitarian, Omega supporter on all counts and very, very eccentric. Other than that he’s a philanthropist, billionaire playboy, and apparently very trusting, because he payed half of the commission up front.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Holiday Modern AU)
Summary: You get creative after you forget to get a Christmas gift for your best friend.
Happy Christmas and holidays, lovelies! This one’s for everyone who’s made the time to read and respond my personal posts, stories, and overall made this platform a wonderful place. Special dedication listed after the story!
You open your compact mirror to quickly check out your appearance - your cheeks are slightly rosy from the cold and your hair’s a little messy. Satisfied, you shut the mirror and stuff it in your purse and ring the doorbell.
A few silent beats shuffle by before the door opens. Clad in sweats and a navy shirt that hints his the muscular frame underneath, a slightly disheveled Bucky steps out. His disgruntled look is replaced with one of crinkled surprise and his lips part open. “What the -”
“HELLO AND MERRY CHRISTMAS!” you yell, flailing your arms out.
Bucky sleepily rubs his face. “Christmas is tomorrow, and you’re disrupting -”
“I’m here to give you your gift, my darling!” you interrupt, shaking your shoulders towards him.
Your best friend tilts his head and stares at you in a way that ceases your shoulder shaking. “This couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” he grumbles.
“Well, we leave for our trip tomorrow and -”
“Hold on,” Bucky butts in, holding up an index finger. He squints his eyes and lets his blue orbs slowly skim from your feet to the top of your head. He takes in your black tights, red skirt, and green crewneck sweater with Bucky’s alma mater’s insignia printed on the front. He pinches the sleeve of the sweater. “How and why do you have this?”
“Stole it from you when we went to your family’s beach house three years ago. It was the only green thing in my closet!” you happily chirp. “But how are you not talking about the pièce de résistance?!” you demand, pointing to your head.
Bucky’s blue eyes travel to the “pièce de résistance” you so proudly point to. Taped to your hair is a large and floppy gift ribbon you’ve fashioned from a two spools-worth of red ribbon. You spin side to side, showing off all the angles.
“Is this some fashion trend? Or is it -” Bucky stops, his eyes growing wide as he realizes the meaning behind the ribbon. “No. You wouldn’t.”
You sassily place your hand on your hip. “Tada! I’m your Christmas gift!” you cheer.
Authors notes: This chapter hits a dark patch before the lights come back on and scare away the monsters. Sorry, my brain got away from me at that part, you’ll know it when you get to it.
Notes/Warnings: Blood, Death, Dying, Anxiety. Followed by awkward teen conversations and big brother shenanigans.
The next handful of days were quiet. Bucky and May fell into a comfortable routine; Morning runs, breakfast, head to the tower to work with Wanda, home for a late lunch and then spend the afternoons doing their own things until dinner, which May always prepared, and then May would sit on the couch and read while Bucky practiced his hand-to-hand combat and tactical maneuvers. They didn’t speak a lot but when they did the mood was light and friendly.
May’s attitude and self-defense faded as Wanda’s lessons made more of an impact on the volume of the voices she heard at night. They were still there, but not nearly as deafening as they had been before. Wanda had taught her that when people are tired, enhanced or not, their minds project their thoughts more and when May is tired, she is more susceptible to hearing them. As long as she can keep calm and focus on something, she should be able to stay in control.
The first few nights of following Wanda’s teachings, May had a difficult time. She tossed and turned on the couch with closed eyes and tried to push the voices out. Bucky hated seeing her struggle and impulsively reached out and held her hand. The volume of the voices decreased immediately and it didn’t take May long to figure out the connection.
It’s been a few years since you left the Avengers HQ, also meaning that
you left Bucky behind. You can still remember the last time you saw him, he was
so angry and sad. Both your screaming could make you woke up in the middle of
the night up to this time.
That fight, you couldn’t understand what was it about or how you and
Bucky ended up in that place but it happened and once it was over, too many
things were said that couldn’t be taken back. Feelings were hurt, hearts were
broken and hits were taken.
This is what I’d been hearing for the last five minutes.
Well- that and faint the sound of Al Roker making a terrible pun about the weather’s stormy sky matching Matt’s suit or some bullshit like that.
It was too early for her to be up, and so she was cranky and was NOT feeling her normal Cheerio’s for breakfast. We had to leave though at 6:15 to catch the flight at 7 a.m. that would to bring us to Atlanta.
Sebastian had been filming away in Atlanta again, now for Civil War. This time it was a hard shoot, the amount of effort that Seb put into getting into shape for this movie was ridiculous.
It made me realize more and more that glitz and glamour lifestyles you read on Hollywoodlife and PerezHilton really are just shiny worlds that cover the grit and grime these actors and actresses go through. From all the fan criticism to extensive training to emotionally carrying a new human identity… it blew my mind everytime I’d learn something new about Acting as a career throughout the years, dating Seb.
Married for three years, and blissfully in love. Even though he was almost 800 miles away from you and your lovely three year old, Phoebe. She was the epitome of Sebastian in almost any way possible. Her attitude, her smile, the hair that would never cease growing. Phoebe also was like Sebastian in the way she tuned out of every conversation around her. Some daycares were concerned about it but I knew it was because of her damn handsome father…
“Muma?” Phoebe was questioning me as I held one hand near her as she sat on the counter, eating Cheerios without any milk because; “Milk looks like eyeball juice.”
She was also a nutball; just like her father.
“What my love?” I was shoving all the documents into my purse that would be needed at the airport while Phoebe watched, unfazed by the chaos that was my anxiety.
“Why are you so fast today? It’s Web-nesday!” Throwing her hands up in the air in excitement, her Cheerios went flying, some clinging onto my sweater and 90% landing on the floor with a puddle of milk forming two inches from my feet.
“Stanley, come! Food!” Taking the easy way out, I let our three year old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel come fast into the kitchen to lick and eat up the mess as a ‘treat’. Just a few hours ago he had been sleeping peacefully with Phoebe wrapped around him in her Avenger’s blanket an hour ago as I got dressed in the room just down the hall.
“Phoebe, can you say Stan-lee?” I was always questioning her with saying words. She was a very slow starter in speech- which as new generational parents, made Sebastian and I freak out. But the doctor assured us she was extremely intelligent, just shy. She internalized a lot, just like her father.
Whom I was extremely anxious in seeing for the first time in months. We had a flight out of Laguardia Airport in - oh fuckin’ shit.
“Phoebe, let’s put some ‘nana’s in a little plastic cuppy and some wah-teh-her so we can head off and see Da, okay?” (Water was the one word she couldn’t seem to get down right.”
When she heard her father’s name those little ears perk up and her cheeks turn into a deep pink.
“Da! Nana’s in jar, now! Muma!” Helping her out of her seat as she squirmed to get away I gave her the warning look with her harsh, demanding words and she just giggled, heading for her Captain America mini- suitcase packed at the door.
“Kiss! It’s C-iss!” She pointed at Chris’s face on her suitcase and touched it. Poking the nose and pretending to rub his head. Making me burst into a huge smile as I saw her pretend to cuddle Chris. I nodded at her question and quickly went rushing to fill her cuppy and grab my own bag- mentally checking off my tasks to get out the door.
“Stanley, go into your cage.”
“Wa do you say Muma?” Smirking, I added a soft please whilst my lovely trained dog went peacefully into his cozy cage.I let it close and grabbed my bag off the kitchen table along with two banana’s for Phe and I.
Tucking the cuppy in my side backpack pocket I gave my little lady a couple tickles on her stomach as she jumped up and down, excited in knowing that she’d be well on her way to see her Da.
It took a lot not to just walk off set the moment I saw his hands grasp for her ass but I was stopped by an excited Christopher Evans.
Which basically meant a jumping jelly bean full of hugs and shouting- he was Italian and Bostonian after all.
I just so happened to be unfortunate enough to come onto set when Sebastian was doing a scene with Scarlett Johansson, whom was straddling his neck; basically scissoring him in the face as he held onto her ass in the fighting sequence I was sure to make the fans stir with either seething jealousy or shipping horny teenage fantasy.
“YN! It’s been so long, commere girl!” I was squeezed tightly to his very hard chest, making my cheek bone ache from almost breaking.
“Goo- good too see, you.. Too, Evans.” Finally getting out of his grasp I panted from the lack of oxygen and smiled up at the lovable oaf that was my daughter’s Godfather.
(Well, technically Godfather, since Mackie was also Co-Godfather- it was almost a civil war in of itself on who got to be the little tikes father if Sebastian and I were to die.)
“Where’s my ladybug?” Chris asked and I pointed to the door leading out to the brutally hot Atlanta heat which I was trying to keep Pheebs from. She was standing at the door- pushing on it with sheer will in opening it with those tiny muscles in her three year old body.
She was out of luck though, since the door had a the latch up above her head that opened it, and she’d need a couple years of growing in order to reach it, much to her dismay. Chris laughed at her, clutching his chest tightly as he went to clutch his left boob as per normal. I giggled a bit at her huffs and puffs from pushing on that damn door so hard.
“What is she even doing?” Shaking my head I let out a sigh and held my head in my cheeks, rubbing my jaw a bit, trying to relieve the tight tension in it.
“Trying to go outside. She thinkings Sebastian’s outside, I didn’t want her to see the porno going on a few doors down,” Pointing behind me, Chris smirked at my words and giggled like a tween, pissing my hormonal body off a bit more-
“What’s so funny about my husband’s face stuffed a goof friend of mine’s vagina? You would be too happy if-”
“Hey, hey! I’m not laughin’ at ya, I’m just… yeah. It’s pretty pornographic, isn’t it?” Turning around, I nodded at the scene that was about to be repeated again, grimacing until I heard Chris mumble behind me to himself. “Sebastian always said thatjealousy looks good on you, he was right.” I gave him the evil eye with a bit of a wink when I turned around but quickly let my eyes rest on something more horrific than watching my husband get scissored by someone else.
Hearing a loud thump and then a shrieking cry that I would know from a thousand miles away, I took off to find my baby laying the floor, on her belly in front of the unopening door.
Running over to her I saw her screeching in tears as she clutched her head, crying tears that made my eyes water up too. I hated when she was in pain. It almost put me in physical pain in seeing my baby hurt. I went to my knees as Chris joined me along with a couple of crew members standing by.
“Muma! Mu, Ma! My-” Phoebe went into another screeching spell, unable to say she hurt her head. I knew immediately what had happened as soon as I saw her position on the floor; she must’ve slipped and hit her head hard against the hard door. Falling onto the concrete studio floor.
Chris stumbled behind me, bewildered in the situation he wanted to solve but anxiously had no idea on how to do so.
“Wha-what should I do! YN, what can I do-” I interrupted him in order to scream at my husband whom froze from the screech that echoed off the studio walls, “Call 911, you motherfucker!- Sebastian! Anthony-l taie! Ia-ți fundul aici, chiar acum Sebastian!” I yelled in Romanian so Phoebe wouldn’t know I was swearing, pissed as fuck at her father.
Translation was basically:
SEBASTIAN! ANTHONY, CUT IT! SEBASTIAN GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OVER HERE!
I could hear nothing but Phoebe’s cries while I slowly lifted her and then picked her up to rest on my hip. My eyes were blurred with tears but I let them go too see my daughter clearly. She clutched my tank top tightly, letting her tiny nails dig into my skin. She still held her hand to the left of her forehead.
Cooing, I gently guided Phoebe’s head to lean on my chest as I rocked us back and forth. Trying to sooth her in any way that I could. With a shaky breath, I tried to pull of the calmest Mommy voice my vocal chords could produce.
“Baby? Can you let Muma see? Drăguţă, lemme see? Let Muma see… please?”
Gently I placed my hand on top of her tiny one that held the spot she’d bumped against the door, slowly I got her to drop it down so I could take a look at the situation. It was bloody, and Phoebe was not good with blood.
Especially when she saw it came from her and was all over her hand.
“MUMA! NO! I DON’T LIKE IT! MUMA! NO RED! I DON’T LIKE IT! NO! NO!” Clenching my teeth from her loud shrieks, I tried to keep her in my arms best as well as I could with only one arm to keep her steady.
Gently rocking her I started walking towards the couch that was in the backstage area near the snacks. Grabbing my sunhat and sunglasses, as well as her Iron Man blankey, draping it over her head to block the sun from her eyes.
“What the fuck is going on! Move! Get the fuc- YN?”
I whipped my head angrily at Sebastian who looked taken aback at my not so loving tone and attitude. I grumbled for him to get his stuff and walked towards the other exit of the Studio that was nearest to the entrance were the ambulance would arrive.
Not taking a second to think, he shuffled some papers out of his chair, letting them scatter to the floor and grabbed his sunglasses and wallet.
Running to catch up with Chris and I.
“I need something to cover it, to S-T-O-P the…” Chris and Sebastian knew what I was gesturing for, so as to not make Phoebe any more terrified and upset than she already was. Sebastian ran ahead of us to a bathroom that was open, coming out he had paper towels in his hands.
He hadn’t even gotten to see Phoebe yet since we arrived only an hour ago and it just so happened to be the hour he was going to be shooting back to back fighting scenes. I didn’t want Phoebe seeing that, and she didn’t like seeing her Da in fake pain. So I kept her from Sebastian and the set until it was ending time for them to cut Sebastian loose for the rest of the day.
Since her eyes were shut while she cried into my chest. He rubbed her back softly, and used two fingers to crawl up her arm- something he always did when he went to surprise her from behind her back.
Opening one eye she saw her Da and had a moment of contentment. Getting the tears and jerking around to stop so I was able to use the paper towels and slowly press them too her forehead as gently as I could do stop the bleeding and clot it as best as I could without making her scream in pain. I was on the verge of a mental breakdown and hearing her cry out in pain because of me would send me over the edge.
She was too mesmerized by her father she’d completely forgotten the blood, and reached out for his fingers. She loved hooking her hands around them when they took their morning walks when Sebastian wasn’t shooting.
“..Da?” She sniffled and he let out a smile, nodding. It was such a sad, guilt ridden smile. Holding her bloodied hand, Sebastian used an extra paper towel, softly wiping away what he could of the red staining her hand.
“I didn’t even know you and Muma were gonna be here my, rățușcă. You surprised me!”
He was trying to give her excitement in hopes of distracting the three year old. I saw a small smile reach her damp lips that had drool and snot and tears from her sobbing. She was still tucked into my neck and wasn’t planning on letting go, even as Sebastian continued to soothe her as the ambulance arrived promptly, letting us climb in together. Even though the EMT was adamant on only one person allowed to travel with Phoebe, Sebastian wouldn’t move an inch from Phoebe. Nor was I. She held eye contact with Sebastian the whole ride as he told stories in hopes of distracting her, but never left my arms. Refusing even when the EMT insisted she be laid down on the stretcher, but I knew if I made her lay there she’d find a way out. She was like a wiggle worm.
He held that tiny red stained hand all the way to Atlanta’s Piedmont Hospital. He was there even when she got her butterfly stitches in her cut that the doctor said wasn’t showing any signs of internal bleeding or brain damage. He still ordered a CAT and X-RAY of her brain to make sure.
We had to wait in the room next to where Phoebe was getting her CAT scan done. Neither of us had said a word to each other since I cried out for him back at the studio. Not even in the ambulance, all our attention rested on our little duck in the cradle, getting music put into her ears so she could hear the loud noises.
All we did was hold each other. I tucked myself in Sebastian’s arms which he accepted immediately, kissing my head, smoothing out my hair and rubbing circles into my back.
As she finally when into the scanner, I let myself cry out of panic and stress in the last two hours of sheer torture to watch. From the cries to the tears to the blood- it felt almost unbearable. It wasn’t until now as he rubbed small then large circles all down my aching back, that I realized he was still in his Winter Soldier uniform.
Sebastian beat me to the punch though when I was about to question the feeling of his hand on my back. “I didn’t have time to change, and grab any of my clothes. So it looks like I’m gonna be Mr. Barnes for the next 24-48 hours. I smiled into his chest and bent my head up, letting out a sigh of relief in seeing his face stare down at me in a teary smile. He was here. I was here. Phoebe was here. We were here right now all in this moment together.
“I missed your eyes.” I whimpered up to him, my chin quivering as tears flooded my cheeks. He kissed my lips unexpectedly as a soothing way to calm my concerns, just like he normally did back home.
“My dragă, I don’t think you know how much I missed my ladies…” His head tilted up to see Phoebe coming slowly out of the machine, getting ready to be unlocked and let back into our concerned arms again.
“You mean, you didn’t miss your little secret as well? Whom, I should say is not liking it here and is kicking the shit out of my bladder and kidneys.” His eyes brightened and immediately moved his eyes down to the beginning to get quite expanded belly.
He held one hand over the top of it and felt the harsh kicks that I’d been receiving since we’d stepped off of the airplane. Now I think he was just doing it to spite me.
“Any new names for the kicker?” I just smiled and put my hand over Sebastian’s that rested on my stomach, tilting my head up to lock my eyes with his shining blue ones.
“No. Still the same.” I shook my head, giggling.
“You two… God..” Rubbing my eyes, I hugged myself into Sebastian even more, letting his smell bring me back down to earth, grounding my anxiety-filled balloon.
“What about us?” He giggled,
“Your both the most stubborn head-sharks I’ve ever seen. I’m going to have my hands full if this one comes out like you two!” I gestured to the rambunctious baby boy rolling around in my head, I could tell he was going to be a runner as soon as his feet could hit the floor.
I felt a kick and grimaced a bit from the sharp stab of his foot. “Ugh, tell your boy to calm down. He’s kickin’ like a mad fetus!” Chuckling, Sebastian bent down and rubbed the side of my belly where he was situated more, “Hey there, lil’ băiat, can you calm down for Muma? Little Maximilian Evander Stan.” I smirked at the new middle name Sebastian had added onto Max’s name.
“So you really are on board with Maximilian?” I nodded at the doe eyed Sebastian below me. I reached down and gently caressed his cheek with one hand and lifted my other off of my belly to run it through his long chocolate locks, making sure not to snag the extensions in there. Sebastian beamed a smile so bright it was shining like a star, that little Astronomy nerd.
“I told you, doll. Stan’s are determined people. How do you think I got you?”
“With you three times begging me and then a date in central park. Add that all onto that magnificent intelligence under your gorgeous hair and looks which still stun me every morning I wake up, Sebastian. That’s not determination, baby… that’s just you.”
Coming up slowly he tenderly held my tensed jaw which eased under his hand and pulled my head in, letting our lips catch each others. Stimulating electric shocks in each of our bodies, just like the first time we had kissed. The kiss didn’t last as long as we both wanted it too, but then again, we had our whole world all ready to come out and get signed out of the emergency room.
Finally, after six hours in there and two horrid cups of midnight cafeteria coffee to keep our brains functioning while the doctors fed us information-
We were all tired and ready to fall asleep together in our godly bed. The doctor told us to keep Phoebe with us at all times tonight, and wake her up every two hours for some water or anything to make sure she can walk normally, hold a coherent conversation, and can think about things from her past. It was about to be dawn in two hours and Sebastian was going to have to return to work in six.
“We’ll come to set, and just sit on that comfy couch, I’ll bring my laptop and her little technology and functional stuff to keep her busy. Some crayons will be easy to fi-”
I felt lips on mine again as Sebastian pulled me in again to silence my racing thoughts.
Holding my puffy cheeks from the crying earlier, he made our eyes fixate on each others. “Baby, we’re here. We’re all here, we’re all okay. We are all going to be just fine. Let’s just take it two hours at a time, okay.” Looking at each other, so intimately, with our bodies holding the other lovingly always made each other level out whenever either of us had anxious thoughts or feelings.
We balanced each other so well when we were together. We made the other present in the moments we were living each day. We saw the pediatric emergency care doctor come around the corner with our precious girl in his arms. She was sucking her thumbs, her eyes fluttering as she fought sleep.
The doc put Phoebe in Sebastian’s arms and told us all was good.
Authors notes: This one gets a little wordy, coming in over 2K words but I felt like breaking it up wouldn’t work. so, here you go.
Notes/warnings: I honestly can’t think of any it’s a pretty mild chapter, but if any of you do, please let me know.
“No, you’re wrong.” May said down at the file in her hands. “This never happened to my dad, he would have told me.”
Tony shifted his weight and Steve crossed his arms. May flipped through the pages, for probably the seventh time, and then slapped the file closed. She held out the file for Tony to take but he didn’t move so, she tossed it onto the kitchen counter, repulsed by it’s contents.
“Look, I’m sorry he never told you but I’m not wrong about this. It happened. He was…different and so are you.”