Sam's girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader    

Word Count: 1326

Warnings: A touch of angst, fluff, Smut, Fluffersmut

A/N: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles / Divider by @firefly-graphics

“Bucky! Oh my God, what happened? Are you okay?” You rush to Bucky in the hallway outside your rooms. His entire outfit was caked in mud and blood, as were his boots. His face and hair were even streaked with it. 

“Fine, doll. You should see the other guys.” Bucky quips without any real humor. 

“Hydra?”

“Yeah. They tried to…” He trails off but you catch his drift. Thankfully, the brainwashing he had endured was gone and no combination of words will ever bring it back. 

“It’s okay, Buck. They can’t hurt you anymore.” 

“I know.” He says sadly. 

It’s something I’ve noticed over the past two years of using this site. It was gradual, imperceptible at first, something that most would brush off as a silly concern, or fault Tumblr algorithm for. While it’s true that Tumblr’s engine leaves a lot to be desired, I’ve noticed that even popular blogs have started to dwindle in terms of interaction or motivation. There could be a lot of reasons for this, but the biggest two I’ve noticed, experienced myself, and asked fellow writers about is this: (1) content being stolen, and (2) lack of feedback or interaction. I’ve never seen any logical person defend content being stolen, so I want to address point 2 instead.

Lack of feedback and interaction. I’m not saying this on my behalf so much as I’m saying this for friends and smaller blogs who have lost motivation to write. I was looking at my yandere writing blogs list the other day and noticed that a good majority of them no longer write. I usually update the list every few months, and by that point, more and more writers have stopped writing entirely. This isn’t a problem confined solely to the yandere fandom; in fact, there’s less writing blogs in general these days, especially ones that are active. I used to run a very popular BNHA blog with some friends, but that dissolved after our content was stolen and our followers stopped interacting as much. Out of our 8,500 followers, we hardly got 0.015% notes (~128 notes) on an average post. Tumblr is to blame for the lack of eyes seeing our posts, for sure, but that also means that at least 128 people saw one post and didn’t leave a comment or ask. We were considered a big blog; imagine what it’s like on a small blog.

My friend recently made a post that summed this up perfectly: 

“I’ve seen people say “Be grateful that people even lurk on your page.” and, while I get the message they’re trying to say, it’s more dismissive and hurtful in my opinion. Like you’re saying, “Oh your writing is mediocre, you should be grateful people even LOOK at it.”

Me personally? I’ve heard the argument that AO3 is a better place to post fanfics, and while that might be true, I’ve had friends experience firsthand the lack of interaction there too. I’ve heard the argument that interacting with some writers is intimidating (me included). I’ve heard that argument that followers might be too shy to interact. I’ve heard the argument that writers should write for themselves and not for views / likes / reblogs / etc, and while that’s ideal, it’s not sustainable for everyone. What works for one writer won’t work for another, but you know what will? Interaction.

That comment or ask that took you 2 seconds to write? We remember it. That reblog with the compliments in the tags? We remember it. Every single ‘named’ anon we get (heart anon, sunflower anon, etc)? We remember them. And the best part is? It’s actually easier to do these things on Tumblr since you have the option to send anonymous asks or make a sideblog specifically for reblogs! Trust me, whether the lack of interaction is the cause of a lack of motivation or what have you, every writer appreciates feedback (don’t be shy to offer some critique or compliments) or even a simple keyboard smash with some emojis. Even sitting down for 5 min a day per week to comment on your favorite writers’ new pieces makes a huge difference. Personally, since Tumblr’s activity feed is beyond terrible and I have over 1,500 posts, I don’t always see new reblogs or comments on my content; asks though? Always see those, can never go wrong with those. If you don’t want to reblog or leave a comment, then you can never go wrong with an anonymous ask. 

As my wise friend says: writing is an art, and in order to improve that art, we need other people’s eyes to see what we don’t.

Oooooo this is a great question! I have so many favorite Sam quotes but my absolute favorite is:

“You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are.”

Natasha Romanoff’s Grave

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You’re on Bucky’s list for a reason but once he meets you everything changes. 

Author’s Note: I got a request when tFatWS show first started and I loved the idea. The ask is below so you have an idea of what it will be about. Hope you enjoy it and thank you all so very much for reading!!! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf

Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut (read chapter warnings as they come) 18 + only please, thank you :) 

Prolouge: The Elevator

Chapter 1: The Space Between Stars 

Chapter 2: Navigating the Stars

Chapter 3: Holding the Universe 

Chapter 4: The Night the Stars Went Out

Chapter 5: The Way Back Home

Chapter 6: The Giver of Stars * (~The End~) 

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,411

Summary: You and Bucky spend a fun evening out with Sam and when you get home you want more from Bucky and he gives you everything. 

Author’s Note: Here is chapter 4! I want to let you know how much I appreciate everyone that has kept up and read and been liking, commenting and reblogging. I really appreciate you so much! This chapter was hard to write, I don’t usually do angst but here we are. There is more to come so don’t despair (and it’s me so hang tight) Thank you all so so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Jobean divider by the lovely @imerdwarf and galaxy divider by the lovely @skylightlantern

Warnings: Fun fluff, tears and angst at the end 

Gif not mine: Thank you so much to @cityofembers

Series Masterlist

“Watch and learn Buck. I’m about to kick your ass,” Sam teases as he lines up his shot at the pool table.

You giggle and quickly take a sip of your drink when Bucky glares at you playfully. Sam pulls the pool stick back a few times, drawing out the length of his turn and waggling his eyebrows your way when Bucky starts to huff.

“He’s just afraid I’m gonna make him look bad in front of his girl,” Sam taunts before finally taking the shot.

edit by @nix-akimbo who is amazing and if you’re not following her you should be

Summary: Steve Rogers has always been the one to fight for what’s right, no matter what. So what happens when the cost of being on the losing side becomes too much for him to bear?

Word Count: 7245

Warnings: Mentions of violence, gunfire, murder, blood, fire, just…angst, drinking, spoilers for Infinity War and Endgame but like…it’s been a minute y’all

A/N: I’ve had this idea in my head for ages and I’m so excited for it to finally be here. There is no reader in this one, or anothr character Steve is explicitly shipped with. This is a pure Steve story. I hope you guys like it. Inspired by the song I See Fire by Ed Sheeran. If you’d like to join my taglist, click here!

Summary: steve threw you off the team and now makes up for his dumb mistakes

Pairing: steve rogers x reader

Word count: 7972

Warnings: smut, explicit language.

Judging by the well-known effect alcohol had on human beings thus the fact that you had just downed your sixth shot of the prettiest bottle from the top shelf, everyone in the bar could tell the woman sitting opposite from the bartender was absolutely wrecked.

A STARK ENTERS THE FRAY

requested by @septembergurls: could i req a bucky x teen!stark!reader where she stays with bucky so that she can still go to school in the city and goes with him and sam during the events of tfatws? maybe with 5 and 13 from the prompts? thanks <3333 5. "You know what, we make a pretty good team." 13. "Say it!" a/n: my first request!! I really hope you like it, I was trying to make it pretty different than everything i wanted. <33

The world never knew Tony Stark as a loving person. He was always portrayed as an egotistical playboy with too much money. But to you, he was just your dad, someone always supportive and willing to listen to what you had to say.

You were in your early teenage years when the Sokovia Accords were written, watching your makeshift family tear at the seams. And no matter how much you wanted to fix it, to do something to start stitching the pieces back together, they were beyond repair.

But no matter how much anger and hatred your dad had felt towards Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, you could never bring yourself to hate him. You’d read the files, done an in depth review of the Winter Soldier program and its procedures, learned about the electroshocks to the frontal lobe and the ‘conditioning’ they would do when shown hesitation or disobedience. It was gruesome for your 15 year old mind, but even then it was obvious that James “Bucky” Barnes was an innocent POW that was tortured for more than 70 years.

You eventually ended up telling him that face to face, a small moment of peace in the horrors of Thanos’ invasion in Wakanda.

- - - - - - -

“You know…” You glanced at the bearded soldier to your right, sending him a small smile. “It’s great to officially meet you.” He gaped, eyes wide and grip on his assault rifle faltering. “Another war hero, I mean. You can only go so long ogling over the same blonde with broad shoulders before he gets annoying.”

“I’m no hero.” He said, staring off into the distance with a frown on his face.

“You are to a lot of people, Barnes.” He didn’t look convinced. “Listen, I know what happened in Siberia. I know what my dad was shown, and I know what you and Steve did to get outta there.”

“Then why aren’t you screaming at me?”

“Because you aren’t the Winter Soldier.” He scoffs, looking away towards the entrance of the palace in anticipation. “Do you feel remorse for what you’ve done?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Every second of it.”

“Then that’s enough for me. You were taken prisoner and tortured until there was no free will left, now that you’ve earned that free will back and want to change, that’s enough.” You both made eye contact, meeting ocean blue eyes of uncertainty. “Now, lets go kick some alien ass.”

- - - - - - -

But then you turned to dust. The Avengers lost, Bucky dropped to the ground in a heap of ash, Wakandan warriors disappeared helping others up, and you went along with them, ashes billowing in the wind as five years passed. For you it was merely seconds, one moment you were watching your hands disappear and the next you were waking up in an overgrown battlefield surrounded by confused warriors.

Returning after 5 years had passed was different, too different. Your home, the Tower, was sold and renovated, your dad and Pepper got married, you had a little sister. It was all too much, too much change. Agonizingly so, time moved without you for 5 years and you’ve never felt more out of place.

That’s why you practically jumped at the opportunity to live back in New York with a newly pardoned Bucky Barnes. Well, you really just volunteered yourself like the Stark you are.

- - - - - -

“(Y/N), why are you packing a bag?” Pepper trotted into your room with her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face.

“Why shouldn’t I be packing a bag, Pep?” You zipped the last pocket with a hum, turning to the strawberry blonde with a strained smile.

“(Y/N), sweetie,” She stepped forward and cupped your face in her palms, a sad smile on her face. “This is about your dad, isn’t it?”

You gulped. “No, Pepper. It’s not. Not all of it, anyway.” Your eyes closed and a shaky breath fell from your lips. “It’s all different. You’re married - were married - and I missed the wedding, I wasn't here for Morgan or you or dad when she was a baby, and I didn’t get to see my dad for a full five minutes until he snapped his damn fingers for the fate of the universe.”

“This!” You pulled away from her hands and gestured to the house. “I’ve grown up in cities, whether it was Malibu or New York. A log cabin is not what I remember my dad wanting to do. Time went on without me. Everything changed, everyone moved on, and I’m just stuck.” Pepper shushed you softly, reaching to wipe the tears from your eyes as your voice cracked.

“Where do you wanna go, baby?” She whispered.

“Somewhere familiar, where I can recognize where I’m going and don’t feel like I’m out of time-” Your eyes widened.

“Barnes.”

“(Y/N), he’s a recovering prisoner of war, I don’t think-”

“But he’s going to Brooklyn! That’s close enough to Manhattan, right?”

“I don’t know…”

“Pepper, who else understands what it’s like to be someone out of their time?”

She paused, and then sighed.

“I’ll talk to him.”

- - - - - - -

Now you were living in Brooklyn with a brooding Bucky Barnes finishing up school, visiting Pepper and Morgan every other weekend.

Everything was fine around the Brooklyn apartment. You and Bucky were the epitome of excellent roommates, splitting chores between the two of you, Bucky making sure you get enough sleep and you making sure he eats a real meal rather than take-out.

Then the government recruited John Walker as Captain America.

- - - - - - -

“You had no right to give up the shield, Sam.”

“Hey, this is what you’re not gonna do. You’re not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights.”

“James Buchanan Barnes, I swear to god if you try and child lock me in the car one more time-”

You stomped through the airbase with a glare on your face, gaze fixed on the metal armed man ahead. He sighed and hung his head between his shoulders. Sam blinked, looking you up and down in confusion.

“Wait-” He turns to Bucky, then back to you. “You guys are buddy-buddy now?” You scoffed.

“Maybe we were, before I was locked in the car.”

“You couldn’t figure out the child lock last week, and that was by accident! Some genius you are. Cut me some slack, kid.” You roll your eyes, sparing a glance at the flustered army man by the plane not too far away. He stared at Sam like he hung the moon, and marveled at the technology connected to Bucky’s left shoulder. (Which you couldn’t blame him for because holy-cow was that tech beautiful)

“There’s no such thing as wizards!”

“Doctor Strange.”

“A Sorcerer.” You piped, crossing your arms. “The Supreme one, at that.” Bucky lets out a quiet ‘Thank you!’.

“Ha! A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat.” You deadpanned, looking to the floor with a loud sigh and a shake of the head.

“Sam, you have never sounded stupider, and I’ve heard you talk to your bot like it’s a pet.”

- - - - - - -

“Gentleman!” John grins from the police car, Steve’s shield resting on his back. “And lady.” He adds, sending you a nod. You roll your eyes, following the two men in front of you after their couples therapy with Dr. Raynor.

“Look, if we divide ourselves we don’t stand a chance. You guys know that.” Bucky leans against the car with an extended arm, vibranium digits stuck to his side. You stand next to him, scowling at the government’s own duo.

“So, what do you got?” Sam asked reluctantly. Walker grins again.

“Well, the leader’s name is Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”

“They geo-tag a location then scramble, but our satellites have found their symbol showing up in Central and Eastern Europe’s displaced communities.” John’s partner says, ‘HOSKINS’ plastered on the front of his bullet proof jacket. As they continue to talk, Bucky eventually getting under Walker’s skin for the hell of it, you pull out a pair of blue tinted sunglasses.

“EDITH…” You mumble, turning away from the group and taking a few steps out.

“Standby for retinal and biometric scan…” The robotic voice states. After a moment, a soft hum fills your ears until a beep comes from the shades. “Welcome back, (Y/N) Stark.”

“Hiya, E. I’m gonna need your help locating a Karli Morgenthau?”

“Confirmed. Proceeding worldwide search.” You hummed, nodding your head as you strain your ears to hear Sam speak from behind you.

“You guys have rules of engagement and all kinds of authorizations that you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.” A smug smirk found its way to your features, looking to him from the side.

“And Miss Stark?” You turned with a false innocence. “Have you been getting our calls and emails? In efforts to team up Stark tech with the federal government?” You blinked in confusion. Was he being serious, trying to talk business with a teenager instead of the CEO? Ignoring the emails and calls is the best you could do in expressing your disinterest. Well, the best thing you could do without getting a scolding from Pepper and Bucky.

“I have. And I haven’t replied to them for a reason, Walker. Maybe tell your higher ups to contact the CEO of the company instead of trying to manipulate a 16 year old.” Your tone was harsh, cold as you could make it. Walker’s eyebrows raised in surprise, looking to the ground in thought as you three started to walk away.

“A word of advice, then.” He started, prompting you to turn ever so slightly. “Stay the hell out of my way.”

He did not-

“You better watch your damn mouth! Walmart knock-off looking ass-”

“(Y/N).” Bucky sighed, grabbing your arm and walking you forward.

“What? He most definitely deserves a few potty words if he thinks he rules the nation with that suit on.”

- - - - - - -

“I'll be your eyes and ears then?”

“Yeah, you’re on standby if things get too dicey.” Sam nodded, dressed in a snazzy red beaded suit. With a shake of your head in confirmation, you turned to the quiet man in the back of the plane. Dressed in head to toe black leather, combat ready with knives strapped to his thighs. But his expression didn’t fit the outfit’s buried meaning. He wasn’t the Winter Soldier, an emotionless killer with dozens of names around his belt, he was a young boy from Brooklyn joining the army, scared of what was to come from beyond American soil.

You couldn’t go to Madripoor with them, no matter how much you wanted to help get information from the inside. Your face is too recognizable, signature Stark fame coming back to bite you in the ass once again. So, instead of dressing up and moving incognito like your colleagues, you’d work the technology of the building, watching out for any looming threat inside or outside the “Princess Bar”, nothing you and a supercomputer couldn’t handle.

But seeing the distant look in Bucky’s eye and he fiddles with his metal fingers really made you wanna rethink the decision of staying out of the lawless bar.

With an earpiece in ear of their ears, (and a glare sent to Zemo as he walks out), they walked into the neon-graced city.

Hacking into the cameras of the bar was easy enough, only taking a few minutes without the help of EDITH. Now it was time to watch out for baddies.

But how could you look out for them when you have to watch Bucky relapse into the Winter Soldier with a ghosted look of disgust on his face. Disgust for himself. And the next time you’d see him, you’ll wipe that expression right off his face.

- - - - - - -

“Heya, Sarge.” You trotted to his side on the couch, looking him up and down with a smirk. “Black really is your color, huh? You could definitely rock the grunge look if you wanted to.” The black blazer’s leather folds shimer off of Sharon’s dim lights. He huffs and looks away, moving his arms ever so slightly away from you as you sit. You frowned before gently grabbing hold of his vibranium hand, slowly lacing your fingers with his as he takes in a sharp intake of air. He tried to pull his hand away softly, but your locked fingers didn’t let up.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, doll.” He murmured. You hummed in thought, moving your linking hands to your lap, tracing the intricate African design on the metal.

“You won't.” You stated, leaning your head against his shoulder, a soft whirr filling your ears. “I trust you.”

“Why?” He whispered, staring at both his and your hands.

“Because no matter what this arm has done over the last eighty years, how many people it’s wronged, now it makes sure I go to sleep at a reasonable time, or brushes my hair when it’s too knotted.” You look up to him and meet his gaze. “You didn’t have to let me come out to Brooklyn with you, you didn’t have to help me adjust with this five year time gap, but you did. You took in a snarky, sarcastic - borderline spoiled - teenager out of the overflowing goodness of your heart.” You brought the tangled hands to your chest, placing his over your heart.

“So, I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you with my life, James Barnes.”

- - - - - - -

Sam’s family home was beautiful.

Walking through the thick tree infested trail felt almost magical. You could almost imagine what the billowing willow trees would look like at night, fireflies trailing the breeze and illuminating the woods. And walking into the home filled with homemade quilts and echoing laughter left you feeling nostalgic. When was the last time you bickered with your dad? For you, it was only a few months ago, arguing over the combination of strawberry ice cream with chocolate, but for everyone else it had been five years.

Watching Sarah Wilson take care of her boys, scolding them and making sure they had enough food while they raced along the lakeside, left a bittersweet smile on your face. Gingerly, you pulled the blue tinted glasses from your bag and placed them across the bridge of your nose.

“EDITH?”

“Yes, (Y/N)?” The AI’s voice answered immediately.

“Make a direct transaction from my accounts to Sarah Wilson’s as well as monthly payments to Sam. I don’t want this family to need help ever again.”

“On it, ma’am.”

- - - - - - -

Sam and Bucky had just finished up working on the boat, walking into the home in a laid back conversation as you entertained the curious boys with stories of the Avengers and Iron Man. That was when Sarah screeched from the top floor.

“Sarah?!” Sam shouted, already making his way up the first few steps before the woman in question flew down the flight. She clutched her phone in her hands as her eyes scanned the room, brimming with unshed tears. Her gaze finally landed on you, and before you knew it she was pulling you to her chest.

“Thank you.” She whispered into your hair. You smiled softly and hugged her back.

“It’s nothing.” You replied. She pulled away from you and wiped at her eyes, letting out a wet chuckle.

“I really made a scene, didn’t I?” She sniffed. Everyone in the room watched you two in confusion, before she pulled her phone from her side and unlocked it. “We don’t have to sell the boat. Or anything else.” The smile was evident in her voice. Sam tentatively took the phone and read over the banking numbers, then looked up at you in disbelief.

“(Y/N)...” He muttered, a grin forming on his face.

“That's not all, flyboy.” You smirked. “Check your phone too.”

His eyes widen as he looks back to you, shaking his head. You just nodded your head with a genuine smile.

“Those payments are monthly, from my own accounts so don’t worry about taking money from the company or anything.” AJ and Cass went to their mothers side with matching grins. The family hugs, leaving you and Bucky side by side. He nudges your shoulder with his own, gaining your attention.

“You did good, kid.” He said softly, pulling you to his side in a half-hug. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d smile that big within the past few months.

- - - - - - -

“Potts is gonna kill me.” Bucky muttered, watching as nano-tech gloves and boots cover your hands and feet at the press of a button. EDITH sits securely on your nose.

“Yeah, well, what are you gonna do?” You sent him a sarcastic grin over your shoulder right before blasting into the air and towards the false evacuation vehicles.

With the settings on the blasters set on stun only, you took out a few flash smashers alongside Bucky, riding his motorcycle on the street. It was all going well until Karli set the car on fire. You gulped, rushing to the car and blasting the thick metal lock. It barely made a dent. With haisty eyes, you turned to Bucky still fighting a flag smasher.

“Barnes! Hold your metal arm out!” He lifts his arm without questions, and you aim for the curve of his elbow. The beam shoots from your palm at the metal, ricocheting off if it and stunning the flash smasher. Without any time to celebrate, you turned back to the lock and used both beams. “Pull, Buck!”

Bucky rushed to your side and yanked on the door handles. A few moments passed, and the door flew open. The hostages dart out of the burning vehicle, but not without thanking both you and Bucky for the rescue. With a long sigh, you turned and gave the soldier a tired grin.

“You know, we make a pretty good team.” He rolls his eyes with a fond smile.

“Don’t get used to it. I’d like to see you graduate before you decide to become the next iron person for the world.”

- - - - - - -

Delacroix, Louisiana knew how to party.

The cookout was amazing, consisting of pictures, games, and great food. The whole afternoon was enjoyable, you probably were laughing the whole day, EDITH resting on your face like sunglasses rather than needing her for information.

Bucky was the most relaxed you have ever seen him, carrying three kids at a time on his metal arm while flirting with Sarah, a boyish smile on his face that was sure to win all of the dames in the 30’s.

And now you sit, watching the Louisiana sun set across the lake, water shimmering straight from a fairytale. Footsteps come up from behind you, stopping at your side. Bucky sits with his legs hanging off the edge of the doc, soft smile resting on his features as he stares at the water. You grin, but keep to yourself.

“Say it.” Bucky says, turning to you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Say what?” You asked, feigning innocence.

“You got that look on your face that says you desperately wanna say something, so say it.” You chuckled softly and looked back at the scenery in front of you.

“I’m proud of you, Buck. So damn proud.” He nods, grin widening. “You’ve come so far, opening up to different people and saving the world more than once, it’s a big deal.”

“Yeah, well,” His head turns to you. “I’m proud of you too.” heat blossoms across your face.

“What did I do?”

“You’re so mature, and you take care of me when I need it. And, you look out for people without being asked to, it’s admirable, (Y/N).” You leaned into his side and sighed, closing your eyes and listening to the celebration behind you.

“I hope he’s proud of me too.” You muttered. Bucky hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I know he is.”

Tony Stark x fem!Reader

wc: 4k

plot: y/n is struggling, and insomnia is a constant. tony is there to help her through it. 

warnings: ptsd. trauma. mentions of torture and violence. nightmares. panic attacks. kidnapping and hostage situations. language. physical affection. age gap. 

a/n: i am nothing if not a tony stark simp. 

***

“God fucking DAMN IT.” You nearly screamed, sitting bolt right up in your bed. Running a hand over your exhausted and flushed face, you tried to calm your racing heart for the hundredth time of the night.

The thousandth time that week.

The millionth time since you’d been back.

“Ma’am, you seem to be in distress,” JARVIS’ soothing voice echoed throughout your room, “shall I alert someone?”

The wonderful and surprisingly human AI asked you this several times a night. No matter how many times you’d said no, he always asked. Always checking in on you.

A request from an anon:  Ooo so for the soft dom Steve ask I’d like maybe Steve being a bit possessive over you because you spend too much time with thor Or Tony. Even if you don’t write this I’ll love you 3000❤❤

I hope this fits the bill. 💖🙏💖

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only Warnings: Explicit sexual content, furniture abuse Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader

9.1k

Tony Stark had just reached the lab to make some adjustments to his bleeding-edge armor when the notifications started rolling in.

He took a sip of his coffee, the dash of bourbon in it at added the extra kick he’d need for this, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

“Friday, show me notifications,” he said to the AI.

“Yes, boss.”

A screen materialized before him, showing a series of notifications from the team that started at around 4 AM.

Well, fuck.

They started out explaining that the upgrades he’d made to the Quinjet were working great. The additional power was good, handling and performance enhancements awesome, new landing system perfect.

The new user interface?

Well, with Barton flying the jet, to the mission site, it hadn’t been a problem. Barton was a little more tech-savvy than the average human and he was usually able to adjust to upgrades quickly. No problem.

The mission itself had apparently been a complete cluster fuck. The intel Fury had given them wasn’t entirely accurate. Instead of it being a simple cloak and dagger mission to infiltrate a suspicious Middle Eastern installment to gain access to an old HYDRA base they were trying to conceal, the team had pretty much walked into a trap.

There were only five on the mission: Rogers, Barnes, Barton, Wilson, and Nat. Wilson’s suit was down. Barnes’ arm was damaged, and Barton had taken a hit to the chest, but he was stable.

Rogers had apparently flipped shit over the entire affair and none of them were having any luck talking him down. The good news was that he’d been so pissed, he’d pretty much taken out an incredible number of insurgents and HYDRA agents with just Barnes backing him up while the Wilson and Nat got Barton back to the jet.

The bad news? The user interface. Rogers and Barnes could fly the jet. If he put controls in it to simulate the kiddie helicopter ride from Coney Island. Barnes, with Barton’s help, got them in air and got them out of there after Steve had apparently gotten super frustrated in trying to get the team out of there.

They weren’t expected back until tomorrow, but it looked like now they’d be back by tonight. He scanned the last few messages.

Black Widow Baby: Steve’s fuming. I’m not sure Fury is going to be able to do a lot with him in this state.

Mother Goose: Fury owes all of us an explanation. The intel was shit. We’re lucky someone didn’t get killed.

  Tony nodded. Wilson wasn’t wrong.

Mother Goose: Steve wants to talk to you about the jet.

  Tony snorted. He just bet Rogers did.