i write a little

The soft click of your heels down the long hallway was barely audible amongst the busy movements and conversations of other employees. You were on the way to your boss, John’s office. You had been working for him as an assistant publicist for years. He respected your knowledge, grit, and ability to handle the fast paced world. When he picked up Michael Jackson as his main client, he trusted you to handle all the other smaller things and clients that fell by the wayside when Michael came into the picture. However, as Michael’s fame and recognition grew, John’s office couldn’t handle any clients but him, even with you steering the ship for him. Michael hired John full time to work for only him, and you made the small cut of people that John continued to keep on payroll.

You’d been with Michael for a long time, but in name only. You worked for the Michael Jackson brand, but rarely saw the King of Pop himself, and never spoke to him. Sometimes you’d be tucked away in the corner of a huge, busy meeting, taking notes for John. John trusted you to help him make decisions, and ensure he was prepared- you rarely ever let something slip through the cracks. With John being so busy with brand deals, record labels, album sales, tour logistics, and everything else, he trusted you to manage Michael’s image in the headlines and court of public opinion. You knew how to handle an interview quote taken out of context. You could bury a false article about Michael before it ever crossed John’s desk. You were respected by John and his team, but for as long as you had been dedicated to the Michael Jackson brand, you barely interacted with the man himself.

Sure, you were at almost every show, sitting somewhere far off in the wings, paying close attention to any thing that might happen that could reflect negatively on Michael. He was captivating to watch for sure, but your dedication to your craft always took precedence over enjoying a good number or two.

You opened the door to John’s office without knocking. That custom had died down years ago. John was not only your boss but your mentor and close friend.

John was on the phone with someone when you walked in. You sat down in the chair across from him and placed the stack of papers on his desk.

“Yes. I agree. We will make it work.” John said to the other end of the line before placing the phone down with a soft click of the receiver.

“What are these?” John said, picking up the first paper in the stack.

“A list of the questions the interviewer is probably going to ask Michael. I already spoke with someone from her team and told her which topics were off limits, but I’m sure she is still going to try to dance around them a bit. These are possible topics and ways Michael can deflect that wont be damaging to his image.”

John nodded and flipped through a few more papers. He sighed as he sat back in his chair.

“I just don’t understand everyone’s obsession with his sex life.” John rubbed his brow. “We’ve been hit with these questions so many times before.”

“I know. It’s the parasocial tendencies of the public. They see him as a person that they believe they have a personal relationship with and think they’re entitled to these kind of private details.” You explained, smoothing out your skirt.

“Well it irritates Michael. And when Michael isn’t happy, it’s hard for me to be happy either.”

You laughed as you responded, “And when you’re not happy, it’s hard for me too.”

John chuckled in return before moving the papers to the left side of his desk. He looked at his large desk calendar and placed his finger on Friday, three days from now.

“This is when the interview will be. I’d like you to be there with me and help me prep Michael.”

You were shocked at first. Your job parameters never really required you to interact directly with the superstar. Typically all your work for Michael was through John. This didn’t bother you, and although you were confident in your abilities to perform the job, you were nervous about working directly with Michael.

“He’s been in the spotlight for a while now, do you really think he needs us to prep him? I feel like a simple reading of that is preparation enough.” You gestured to the stack of papers you had brought in.

“True, but his career grows by the second it seems. And with that growth comes a lot of more serious issues, so it couldn’t hurt to do a quick PR session with him. Besides, you need more experience working directly with stars. You don’t have to work under me forever you know. You could be someone else’s John sooner than you think.”

You contemplated what he said. John knows your potential, and you know you have a ceiling here, and you’ve pretty much already hit it. John is young enough, and won’t be retiring from Michael Jackson anytime soon, so the logical next step in your career would be to represent someone on your own, not under John’s wings.

“Okay, I’ll be there.” You arose from your seat and exited the office.

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

John placed the same stack of papers you gave him on a chair in the recording studio. It was almost impossible to ever catch Michael in an office, or anywhere besides the studio for that matter. Michael finished up the song and exited the booth, looking at the papers.

“What’s this?” He asked, flipping through them the same way John had.

“Possible interview questions for Friday. And suggested responses.”

Michael hummed quietly as he fingered through the stack. He paused on one page in particular and sighed of annoyance.

“These questions about my sex life are getting so old. Why do people want to know these things.”

John thought back to your conversation just hours before and responded.

“ It’s something called parasocial tendencies. People see you as a person that think they have a personal relationship with and think they’re entitled to those private details.”

“That’s quite insightful of you John.” Michael looked up from the stack at him.

“Well,” John started, “that wisdom was actually imparted to me by the person who wrote that.” He nodded to the papers in Michael’s hand. John was honorable and gave you credit where you earned it, never attempting to pass off your hard work as his own.

“And who might that be?” Michael asked, already decently sure he knew the name about to be spoken.

“Y/n.”

Michael forced away a small smile at the mention of your name. He knew who you were, and had from the moment he hired John, and you subsequently. John had always praised your work over the years, but Michael had always known you from that first meeting with John after he fired Joseph.

Michael was waiting in a conference room with glass walls for John. John was walking down the hallway, a stack of contacts in his arms. Just before John entered the room, an attractive woman in a dark blue suit caught up with him and grabbed his arm. She took the contracts from him and added another to the stack. John had thanked her with a quick hug, and she walked away, never looking in the glass at Michael.

“Who was that?” Michael asked John as he sat down across from Michael and his lawyer.

“Y/n l/n. She works for me.”

“And what did she just add to the contracts?”

“Her contract of employment.” John had smirked.

It didn’t take any convincing at all for Michael to approve you onto his team, and he never forgot your name.

He had seen you several times over the years, and watched you from a distance. John had spoke so highly of you that first day, and from then on Michael always noticed you. He wouldn’t call it a crush, really, but he did enjoy whenever you were around, even though you had never spoken to each other directly.

He liked you well enough, and he admired your work ethic and the way you carried yourself, but Michael really didn’t have time to pursue any kind of relationship. Sure there were women he had fraternized with over the years, but none ever seemed to leave him wanting more. He desired a true connection with someone he could build a life with, and that just wasn’t really in the cards for him at this point in his life. His career took off, and was growing more every day. As he got older, he was often asked about if he had any special lady in his life. Of course he didn’t, but those questions always brought an imagination of what his future could look like, and finding a good woman to share it with. There was only one woman that ever really came to mind for him, and that was you.

It wasn’t a crush, and he wasn’t harboring feelings of unrequited love for you. It was more of a recognition that you were the kind of woman he desired.

He was not ready for that kind of commitment in his life yet, but he continued to keep tabs on you nonetheless. He justified it to himself under the pretense of “knowing who worked for him.” He always kept a respectful distance though.

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

Friday rolled around, and you were on your way out to the car John arranged for you. You were meeting John and Michael at the studio a few hours early to run the interview prep. As the car made its way through the city, you could not shake your anxious feelings. You were not nervous about talking to Michael exactly, he had a reputation for being a generally nice and easygoing person. You just truly wanted to make a good impression. This was your boss, and John’s words about needing experience working directly with stars played in your head. You were subconsciously placing too much emphasis on this meeting. To you, if this meeting went well it was a sign you truly could advance your career and rep someone on your own. If it went the opposite, well, you knew what that would mean.

As the car slowed to a stop you took a deep breath before stepping out. You began to make your way inside, and headed to the room John told you to arrive at. You were just early enough to be professional.

You entered the room. John was standing, looking down and talking to a man a chair who had his back turned to you.

“Ah, y/n. Glad you’re here.” John said, clasping his hands together.

The man in the chair turned his head to look at you, and you were not surprised to meet Michael Jackson’s eyes.

“Hello Miss y/n.” Michael smiled and stood up. You approached them, and shook Michael’s hand.

“I’m glad to be here.” You smiled. He returned it.

“Shall we get started?” You asked, holding your clipboard to your chest.

“That sounds good to me.” John said over Michael’s shoulder.

“Yes, please sit.” Michael offered you his chair.

You took a seat as John pulled up two more for him and Michael.

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

The training was smooth sailing. John threw you a few calculated curve balls, no doubt in an attempt to get you to show your intellect. Michael seemed quite pleased with you, which eased your nerves. As you finished up, you rose from your seat and Michael stood as well.

“Thank you for letting me help, it was a pleasure.” You smiled and turned for the door.

“Wait,” Michael reached out and caught your arm. “Stay for the interview. You’ve done so well, I think you should see the fruits of your work.”

You glanced at John, who nodded in agreement.

“Alright.” You smiled and turned back. Michael was still gently gripping your arm. He looked down and seemed to realize this, and cleared his throat and retracted his arm.

“Um, well I should probably get to hair and makeup. I will see you guys back here soon for the interview.”

“See you then.” John responded as Michael headed for the door. Once it was closed, he spoke again. “You did great.”

“Thank you. I was nervous, I really wanted to make a good impression.” You stated, sitting back down.

“Oh you made a great impression. He really seemed to like you. Your future is bright, y/n, and with a recommendation from Michael Jackson, you will have other celebrities chasing you down to work for them.”

“I can only hope.” You smiled.

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

It’s been a few weeks since John asked you to help prep Michael for the interview. The prep went well, the interview went smoothly and you were making sure Michael had plenty of great press ahead of the announcement for his next single. The office has been buzzing recently. Michael was around the office a lot more than he typically was. He still preferred a studio session to a strategy meeting, but he was becoming more present in the business side of his career. John seemed to appreciate it, as having Michael there to make the decisions saved him a lot of back and forth.

You had also been asked to step up more. You were sitting in on more meetings than you ever had, and while Michael was not in all of them, he’d begun to make a point to ask your opinion on different things.

The first time it happened you were shocked. You were tucked into a corner chair, away from the main table, scribbling away all your concerns and notes that John would want to hear later.

“And you, Miss y/n, what do you think?”

The entire table of men, John included, turned their heads to face your corner. You rarely spoke up in these meetings, typically opting to talk to John following them and allowing him to take further action.

You took a deep breath, meeting Michael’s gaze and trying to shake the feeling that all the scrutinizing eyes gave you.

“I think moving up the single release date is a good idea. We can capitalize on the good press from your last interview. Then we can release the music video after, which will give the fans something else to look forward to before we announce the full album.” You stated, clasping your hands in your lap.

The only noise in the room was a soft hum of acknowledgment from Michael. He seemed to process your advice. You held your breath as he began to speak.

“I agree. I think you’re exactly right. Boys, let’s get to work on moving up that date and we can start filming the music video as soon as possible.”

You exhaled in relief as all the eyes focused back on Michael. A short silence followed his agreement with you, as many of Michael’s team had been advocating for a later release date.

John cleared his throat and adjourned the meeting. You stood up and walked to the exit. Part of you thought that John or Michael would stop you to say something, anything, but neither spoke up, so you gently closed the door and headed straight to your office.

“You agree with her don’t you John?” Michael asked after the latch clicked.

“Of course I do. I trust her judgement more than anyone else on this team.”

“Then why didn’t you voice that in the meeting? You saw the way everyone else was looking at her. If you trust her so much why don’t you want others to know that?” Michael crossed his arms.

“Because I want her to stand on her own merit. She smart, gifted, and can go all the way to the top, but not if I’m holding her hand the whole way. She needs to get there on her own.” John explained.

Michael was silent for a moment and then spoke again. “I trust her too. More than all those other guys who just tell me what I want to hear and are afraid to go against the current.”

John didn’t say anything, just nodded, and Michael continued.

“I want her. I want her working closer. Not just being your glorified assistant, I want her working in our inner circle, handling things, and having more opportunities to voice her opinion. No more chair in the corner, I want her at the head of the table with you and I.”

John smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

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

Michaels interest in you was growing again. For so long he put it on the back burner, growing his career, but ever since that interview prep he couldn’t seem to shake the thought of you.

You were so poised, so smart, and so beautiful. A deadly combination to Michael. Sure he has seen plenty of beautiful women, but none who kept such a composed countenance as you. That was something he desired, but could never have. His life was so chaotic, such a calm force was rare to him. Rare and precious.

He had kept light tabs on you over the years, mainly just monitoring anything the media had to say about you, but Michael was more interested now. He wanted to know more about you, but wasn’t ready to go straight to you for answers.

He had just decided to make you part of his inner circle, and that was slightly scary to him. The spotlight has been rewarding and he loved it, but it was not without its hardships. He faced a lot of different things from the world, from his own family, that he wouldn’t wish on an enemy, much less a pretty girl he liked.

It wasn’t long before he sat down with Bill about getting some eyes on you. Not to invade your privacy, really, but to just make sure you were safe, and if through that he learned a little more about you, he wouldn’t complain.

You were on his radar now, and there wasn’t any getting off of it.

Michael was pleased to learn that you lived a quiet life outside of the office. You weren’t a partier, you were never photographed at bars or drunkenly hanging off the arm of some guy. Your apartment could have been in a safer part of the city, but once Michael set up one of Brad’s associates in the apartment across the hall, he was more confident in your safety.

You were none the wiser to Michael’s good natured scheming. You continued to work hard, and it seemed to be paying off.

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

“Wait, you’re saying that not only do I have a seat at the table, but I’m going to be in charge on set of the next music video?” You stared at John in shock, a French fry in your hand that was paused in the air.

“Yep” John nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “You seem to be impressing the right people.”

You had not expected this when John asked you to have lunch in his office. You two had shared lunches several times, and did not think this would be any different.

You leaned back in your chair and popped the fry into your mouth, trying to contain your excitement.

“Now you’re not directing it or anything,” John added. “I’ve got some other stuff to handle, so I won’t be in town during the shoot. You’re my guy, y/n, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to fill my shoes while I’m gone. You’ll just be there, making sure everything runs smoothly and that Michael’s vision is accurately captured. Handle any issues that come up. Just run it as his manager. Think of it like a trial run. It will be good practice for when you’re repping someone on your own.”

You smiled, and thanked John. You were excited to prove yourself to the industry, and with John’s confidence in you, you felt like you could do that and so much more.

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

It was the first day on set of the Smooth Criminal shoot. You arrived hours before Michael was scheduled for hair and makeup, ensuring that everything was going to go perfectly. You were not nervous, John had told you that you were ready for this, and you knew it too.

Everything was going great, and you had things running ahead of schedule.

“Miss y/n,” an assistant approached you with a clipboard. “Mr. Jackson has arrived, he’s in hair and makeup. Just thought you would like to know.”

You thanked the assistant and headed towards the trailer. You stepped inside. Michael was in the chair, already dressed, and the artist was touching up his hair.

“Y/n!” He smiled and stood from the chair. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad to be here Michael. I’m excited, I think this is going to go really well.”

“I’m sure it will with you at the helm.” He jokingly tipped his hat towards you. “How do I look?” He did a small spin.

You took in his outfit. The white suit and hat looked great, but you weren’t sure the red undershirt was the right choice. Something about it just clashed slightly, and didn’t sit right with you.

“You look great, I’m just not sure if we should go with the red.” You stated. The stylist shot her head up, seemingly surprised that anyone would disagree with her choices.

“Um, we picked this outfit days ago.” She said.

“And I thank you for your preparation and dedication, I’m just not sure it was the right choice. It looks good, but it could be better. And Michael wants to be the greatest of all time, so why should his clothes be anything but that either?” You smiled.

Michael tried hard to fight back a smirk, not wanting to cause any further tension.

You walked over to the rack of clothes and picked through them until you found exactly what you were looking for. You grabbed the blue shirt from the rack and held it up.

“I think this would go much better, if you’re willing Mr. Jackson.”

Michael glanced quickly to the stylist, then back to you. He didn’t hesitate to grab the clothes from your hand and step behind the privacy screen to change.

You stood in awkward silence while he changed from the red to the blue, the stylists face was growing quite red, and she busied herself by organizing her desk.

Michael stepped out from behind the screen and looked in the mirror. He hit a few poses, before he smiled and looked to you.

“This was the perfect choice. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.” You smiled, and looked down at your watch. “Well, we better get out there to meet with the director.”

You thanked the stylist for her help, she nodded quietly, and you exited the trailer as Michael held the door for you.

“Poor girl.” He half laughed on your way to the main set.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings or say she had poor taste, but we can’t settle for anything but the best. We’re gonna make you the biggest superstar the world has ever seen, and that means every little detail is important.” You explained.

Michael smiled at you and simply said “I completely agree.”

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

The shoot was going extremely well. You were scheduled to wrap a whole day before the original close date, which would save Michael a decent amount in production costs.

You sat in a chair by the director, clipboard in hand, watching the scene. The music was playing loud across set, and Michael danced so smoothly. It was captivating.

“And cut!” The director yelled just seconds after the number ended. The music faded out as Michael walked over to where you were sitting. An assistant approached him with a towel and water bottle. He dabbed at the beads of sweat on his neck with the towel before resting it on his shoulder, then drank from the bottle of water.

He came and stood in the window between your chair and the directors. They played back the most recent tape, and Michael leaned forward to watch it. His head hovered close to yours, and you could smell his cologne. You fought back a slight smirk.

“I think that looks great. What do you think, y/n?” Michael turned his face towards you. He was extremely close, but you kept your composure.

“I think it’s perfect. And if you don’t have any notes,” you turned to the director, “then I think that’s a wrap.”

The director smiled before announcing that the set had wrapped. The crew moved in and began cleaning up, and you stood from your chair.

“Thank you for all your help y/n. Truly, this ran smoother than when John’s here.” Michael chuckled. “But don’t tell him I said that.” He added.

“Oh I’m calling him right now to rub it in his face.” You returned with a laugh.

Michael looked at you for a moment and then stepped forward slightly. “I’d like to treat you to dinner, as a thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you. Don’t worry, I can make sure it’s all private. No crazy media or fans will even know where we are.”

You thought about it for a moment. Dinner with Michael Jackson. How many girls could say that they did that? Michael was a great guy, and you’re sure you would enjoy it.

But you remembered all the other things that had been piling up since you’d been so preoccupied with the music video shoot.

You were not only filling John’s shoes at the shoot, he had trusted you to manage the entire office while he was gone, and he was scheduled to be back soon.

“I’d love to Michael, but I really have to get back to the office. I have a lot to catch up on before John returns. But thank you, so much.” You offered an apologetic smile.

“No I completely understand. Maybe another time.” Michael returned the smile. You turned to walk away but stopped when Michael called out again.

“Y/n.” He said. “I hope your evening goes well.”

“Thank you Michael. I hope you enjoy yours as well.”

“I will.” Was the last thing he said before you headed to the office.

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

You’d been in the office for almost two hours now. You’d decided to move to a conference room instead of staying within your office. You had a lot of papers to get through, but the most important thing was making sure everyone involved with music video was correctly compensated. You were balancing the books after writing several checks to the dancers, production companies, and other miscellaneous people.

Your stomach grumbled, and you were starting to regret rejecting Michael’s offer for dinner. However, before you could finish the thought, the door to the conference room swung open. Two men dressed in black suits entered pushing two identical silver trays. One grabbed the stack of papers in front of you and moved them to a small table in the corner of the room before placing a tray in front of you.

“Hey, what are you doing with that? What is going on?”

But they only offered silence in return. Before you could stand up and retrieve the papers while giving them a piece of your mind, you were stopped cold.

Michael walked in, wearing a nice outfit, but much more casual than his suit from earlier in the day.

As he entered the room, he took off his glasses and smiled at you.

“Dinner is served.” He gestured to the trays on the table.

“Michael, what is this?” You laughed in astonishment.

“You said you couldn’t go to dinner because you had things to do at the office, so I brought dinner to you.”

You stared at him for a moment, completely surprised and perplexed.

“I don’t know what to say.” You smiled. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just eat, and let me enjoy your company.” He said, putting his hands on the back of your chair and gesturing for you to sit back down. He pushed your chair up to the table before taking his own seat.

Conversation flowed well with Michael. He kept asking you questions about yourself, and seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. He asked about how you began working for John, what your hobbies were, what were things you enjoyed, and some of your opinions on his music and career.

He talked to you a little bit about growing up in Gary, his brothers, his mom, but skipped over a lot of details about his father. It wasn’t a secret that they didn’t have the best relationship, so you didn’t press him.

By the end of the dinner, you were full, and the two of you had shared a lot of laughter.

“Thank you so much Michael, this was amazing.”

“No, Thank you, y/n. You’re so valuable to my team, I really wanted to show you how much I appreciate everything you do.”

You smiled, but couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. This was a business move, he was just thanking a dedicated employee. You weren’t sure why, but being classified as just an employee to Michael kind of hurt. But before you could wallow in that misery, Michael began speaking again.

“I really like you y/n. You’re fun. I hope we get to do this again.”

You smiled. “Oh I don’t know if I’ll have time. The pop star I work for is kind of a big diva, so I’m just always so busy.” You joked with him.

He laughed before saying “well, hopefully you will get to know him a little better, and he won’t seem like such a diva anymore.”

You just smiled, hoping your cheeks weren’t flushed pink. The two of you sat in silence for a little while, before you cleared your throat to speak again.

“Well, I should probably finish up these papers.” You stood, and as soon as your rose from your chair, Michael did the same.

“Yeah, I should probably get to the studio. I’ve got a few new demos I want to work on.”

“I can’t wait to hear them.” You smiled.

Michael started towards the door, but not before he gave you a quick hug.

“Thanks again, y/n.”

“Of course, Michael.”

And then he was out the door, all your adrenaline leaving with him.

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

That dinner with Michael must have forged the beginning of a close connection. Ever since, you felt as though you were on a different level with him. Both your schedules were so busy, so you did not spend a lot of time alone together, but when you were in the same space as him, it was rare to see the two of you not close.

In every meeting, you sat on his left, and John was across from you on the right.

At shows or public outings, you were close by. Where there was Michael, you and John were close behind, making sure everything was run smoothly.

He had sent several gifts to you in the past few weeks, each with a note thanking you for all your hard work and dedication.

The most recent one was a beautiful, but dainty, diamond necklace. You weren’t one for big flashy jewelry, and Michael had learned this about you and made sure to pick out the most perfect one.

Even others started to notice how close you were becoming with Michael.

Anytime someone on his team brought an issue or decision to him, his first response was always,

“What does she think?”

He didn’t even have to provide a name, they just knew exactly who he was referring to.

They finally realized there was no point in bringing my anything to Michael if they didn’t have a statement from you on it. And even then, Michael would still go to you directly before deciding anything.

“You don’t have to bring this to me Michael, this is just a question about what food you want in your dressing room.”

“But I trust you. I don’t like making decisions without you.”

Even the media was starting to catch on.

“The brains behind the sensation that is Michael Jackson. Miss Y/n y/l/n and Mr. John Branca”

“I can’t believe they put my name ahead of yours.” You joked with John over lunch in his office.

“I can.” He stated simply. “You’re making a name for yourself. People are noticing you.”

“Really? Who’s noticing me?” You half joked, but genuinely were curious.

“Well, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you,” John sat down his drink. You were focused now, and sat up, hooked on whatever John was about to say next.

“I’ve had a few people from other teams reach out about you. Wanting to know if you were staying with Michaels team, or if you were planning branching out to represent people on your own.”

You thought for a moment on what John was saying. It had always been your goal to become your own agent, out from under John’s shadow, but the thought of leaving Michael’s team seemed really hard to swallow.

“Well,” you started, trying to think of what to say, “I wouldn’t leave to represent someone small. I would be leaving Michael Jackson’s team, so it would need to be for someone on a similar level.”

“Well you haven’t let me tell you who it is that’s asking.” John stated.

“Who’s asking?”

“Prince.”

You choked on air.

Prince was reaching out asking about you. He was a big star already, sure, but the biggest shock about that is the fact that he and Michael had been in competition with one another for a while. You weren’t sure the extent of the rivalry, whether it was good spirited or not, but you do know that Michael, someone who has rarely ever uttered a negative word in your presence, has made a few shady comments about Prince to you.

“Prince…?” You repeated.

“Yes.” John said. “He asked to keep it private. I made sure this wasn’t some power play to try and upset Michael. He assured me that it’s not, and that he has been looking for someone capable of taking this position for a while. He’s seen the headlines about you, and rivals as they may be, he respects Michael's craft and business, and thought that anyone Michael would hire would be good for him too. He just simply told me that if you were looking to branch out, to give him a call.”

You were silent. This should be a no brainer. John is obviously for you advancing your career, you’re his protege. He wants nothing more than to see you succeed. There would be no bad blood in transferring teams.

But one thought consistently brought you back, and that was Michael.

You two had kindled a great friendship since the shooting of the Smooth Criminal video, and even considering this felt like a huge betrayal.

“Y/n? Would you like me to tell him you’ll consider it?”

You weren’t sure what to say. You were silent still. John mistook your silence for low confidence in yourself, and tried his best to help.

“If you’re nervous you’re not ready, that’s natural. But I am telling you y/n, you can do this. You have proven yourself time and time again, and it’s time that it all becomes a credit to yourself, instead of making me look like a great boss.”

“It’s not that…” you started, but couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

“What is it, y/n? I’m here for you.” John leaned forward.

“Nothing. Just, give me some time to think about it.”

“Well, he wants to set up a meeting. Nothing contractual or binding, just to see you and so the two of you can get a feel for one another. If you don’t want it, I’ll cancel it, but it’s been set up for Friday immediately after lunch.”

You were silent again.

“Just take the meeting y/n. It doesn’t set anything in stone. And if you go to the meeting and realize you hate him and want to stay here, then you can do that. You know I’ll support you either way.”

You took a deep breath.

“Alright, I’ll take the meeting. But you can’t tell Michael.”

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

In the days leading up to your meeting with Prince, you felt yourself growing increasingly on edge. You were not nervous about the meeting going bad. No, you were nervous about it going well. If the two of you hit it off and everything went smoothly, it would open you up to a choice you didn't necessarily want to make.

Staying with Michael's team, or moving on with your career.

You knew what John would tell you to do. You knew the right move for your career. But the thought of leaving Michael was just confusing.

John had kept his promise to not tell Michael, but you were struggling with being around him and feeling like you were hiding something. Like you were betraying him. Michael started to notice that something was off with you.

"Hold on, stop the track." Michael commanded from inside the booth. You were in the studio with him and a producer. Michael had wanted you to hear a few of the new songs he was working on.

Everything sounded amazing, and watching Michael create his art in real time was one of the most captivating things you had ever experienced, second only to watching him perform.

Michael stepped out of the sound booth and propped himself up on the wall across from where you were sitting.

"Can you give us a minute?" He asked the producer. The producer nodded and left the room without a word.

"What's going on with you?" Michael asked as soon as the door was shut.

"What do you mean?" You looked to him, and could feel your heart rate quicken.

"Something is bothering you, I can tell."

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine Michael." You forced a smile.

"Don't lie to me, y/n. I can tell something is up. You're usually much more into the recording sessions, and you're barely looking at me through the glass. You have failed to give even a single note to the producer, and you're never afraid to speak up about something that should be fixed." He crossed his arms.

"I didn't think anything needed to be changed." You stated simply, praying that Michael would drop this.

"Y/n, I sang off beat on purpose once and you didn't even flinch. I am never off beat. And you never miss anything."

You were silent. You had no idea what to say to Michael. You knew you couldn't tell him about the meeting with Prince. Not yet. It would just complicate things.

"I don't know what you want me to say." You sighed, struggling to meet his eyes.

"I want you to be honest with me. You know I'm here for you, always. You're my friend." Michael took a step towards where you were sitting.

You were silent again, and Michael moved even closer. You abruptly stood up, muttered something about needing to be at the office, and left Michael in the studio before he could drag any information out of you.

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

You avoided Michael as much as you could before the meeting. It was finally the day of, and you couldn't shake your nerves. John had scheduled a meeting with Michael's team during the same time, so that no one would have the chance to bother you while you were meeting with Prince.

You would have rather gone to Prince's office for the meeting, but John said he insisted on having it here. Once John had left for the meeting with Michael, you began preparing yourself to enter the conference room that Prince was waiting in.

As you walked down the hallway, you reminded yourself of all the hard work you have done to get to a moment like this. This has been your goal for so long, and everything you've done was finally paying off. You did everything you could to push any thoughts of Michael to the back of your head, and by the time you reached the conference room, you were ready.

You looked through the glass door before opening it. Prince sat there, with another man by his side. You pulled open the door and Prince stood. You walked over and introduced yourself.

"Hi, I'm y/n. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"It's so great to finally meet you. This is my assistant." Prince gestured to the other man. "Let's get started, shall we?"

You sat down. Prince asked you a few polite questions about yourself, how you enjoyed the city, and some other things before getting to business.

"I have been looking to fill this position for a while. I wanted someone capable of handling my high speed and chaotic career. I've heard a lot about you and Mr. Branca couldn't stop singing your praises when we spoke. I wanted someone who already had experience in the world of music, and you checked every single one of those boxes. I would love to have you come lead my team."

You thanked him for his kind words, and continued with the meeting. Because of your already high profile and what you were already receiving, you were able to negotiate extremely favorable terms, and Prince seemed willing to give you whatever you wanted. By the end of the meeting, you were feeling excited and hopeful.

What you didn't know, that across the building, John's meeting was not going as smoothly as yours.

"Let's go ahead and get started." He had said.

"No." Michael cut in. "We will wait for her." He didn't even say your name, but he stared at the empty chair on his left.

"She won't be joining us today, so we don't have to wait." John had explained, completely unaware of the severity of you absence to Michael.

"Why not?" Michael snapped his head to John.

John, still none the wiser to what was going on beneath the surface, made the mistake of telling Michael that you were in another meeting.

"What could possibly be more important than this?Where is she?" Michael asked, teeth slightly gritted.

"Come on Michael, let's just get this meeting started." John had tried to reason, the pieces still not clicking in his mind.

"No." Michael stood abruptly. "I'll go find her myself." And he was out the door.

John shot up, followed Michael, and quickly became nervous about him finding your meeting with Prince. He called out for Michael to stop and return to his meeting, but the efforts were futile. Michael walked with purpose down the hallway, on the way to your office. He was getting dangerously close to the conference room that you were in, and John felt his heart rate rise.

John finally caught up, but not before Michael rounded the corner and saw you through the glass. Your back was to him, but he saw the man sitting across from you.

Prince.

"What the hell is she doing with him?" Michael turned to John, fury evident in his features.

It was then that John realized the colossal mistake he had made in arranging this for you.

The pieces had fallen into place, just too late.

Your request to keep the meeting a secret from Michael. Your hesitation in taking it in the first place. How close you and Michael had seem to get in the past few weeks. Michael's fury at seeing you with Prince.

There was something between the two of you. Michael valued you beyond a simple employee. John cursed himself for not noticing sooner.

"Her.. Her career Michael. You had to have known that she couldn't stay here forever being as good as she is at what she does. This is an opportunity for her to take the next big step in her career. This is what she has always wanted. It's what I... we have been preparing her for all along."

Michael stared at John for a moment, then at your back in the conference room. You were perfectly poised, just like always.

He walked away from John without another word.

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

"Thank you again for agreeing to meet with me, Miss y/n." Prince said as the two of you stood up.

"Of course." You smiled. "I'll be in touch soon about my decision."

"Of course take all the time you need. You have worked with Mr. Branca for the majority of your career, I'm sure you need some time to think about it and talk everything over with him."

"Thank you." You said as you turned for the door.

"I'll be waiting." He winked, and you exited the room.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and headed back to your office. You needed a moment alone to yourself before you talked to John. Everything was spinning around in your head. Prince had offered you everything you could ever want on a silver platter, and the salary he was willing to give was more than generous.

You opened the door to your office and stopped cold.

Michael was sitting at your desk, arms crossed, staring at you expectantly.

"You weren't in the meeting." He stated with a chilling calmness.

"I know." You replied softly.

"You've never missed one of my meetings."

"I know." You said, even softer this time.

Michael stood, and took a deep breath.

"I've been thinking, and it is time we upped your salary around here. We need to get you a better office too. And I want you taking a bigger role. You need to be working closer with me, and handling more of my business."

"Michael, I already work as closely with you as I can. The only other step up here would be John's job." You tried to reason with him.

"Then you can have it." He said, matter of factly.

"What? Michael that's absurd. I can't take John's job."

"Fine, then you can have a new position above him. I don't care."

"There is no position above John." You crossed your arms.

"Then I'll make one. You deserve it. You deserve the whole world." He started sounding desperate, and crossed the room over to you. "Let me give this to you. I need you here with me."

You narrowed your eyes at him, and everything clicked.

"You know about Prince." It wasn't a question. You knew he knew.

"Know about it? I saw you sitting in the room with that snake. I saw him trying to take you away from me." He spat.

"Michael, stop. I am not a toy that can be taken by anyone. I am a grown adult with a career to think of." You bit back.

Your tone and words seemed to resonate with Michael. He was silent for a moment before apologizing.

"I'm sorry, y/n, you're right. But why wouldn't you tell me about the meeting?"

You relaxed your shoulders as the previous tension between you two dissipated.

"I.. I don't know. I didn't even know if the meeting would go well, and didn't want to complicate things If I didn't have to." You explained.

"Did the meeting go well?" He asked quietly, as if he were scared for the answer.

You bit your lip. "I'd be a fool not to take him up on his offer."

Michael sucked in a sharp breath.

"I don't want you to go. I don't care if it isn't fair, I want you here with me. I will pay you double what he is offering."

"Michael.." you started.

"Fine, triple! Just give me a number, I don't care, I'll make it happen."

"This isn't just about the money." You stated. "It's about my career. This was always the plan, John and I both knew that I couldn't work as his number two forever."

"When?" Was all he said in response.

"What?" You asked.

"When are you going to leave me?"

"I.. I don't know. Prince told me to take as long as I needed to decide, and I need to talk to John, and I was going to talk to you too."

Michael didn't say anything else. He stepped closer to you, and slowly reached out for your hand. He intwined his fingers with yours, and dropped his face until his nose almost brushed yours. You held your breath, unable to move.

"I don't want to lose you." He said softly, almost inaudible.

"Michael.. I" But he stopped you by pulling you in closer with his other hand, your chest now flush against him. His bottom lip ever so slightly brushed yours, and you were about to melt into him and let him kiss you when your office door swung open.

"Y/n, we need to-" But John stopped abruptly at the scene in front of you. You pulled back from Michael, but it was too late, John had seen it all.

Before you could say anything to either man, Michael was walking out of your office, leaving your face flushed and a flustered looking John in the doorway.

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

You went home that night, refusing to talk to John about what he walked in on. The events of the day played over in your head, and you felt as though you had whiplash from the constant jolt of conflicting emotions.

You knew that you should take the job with Prince. The only thing holding you back was Michael. But you weren't even sure what was going on between you and Michael. You knew it would be a colossal mistake to throw away this opportunity for a fling, but Michael was not just a fling to you. You knew you cared about him, deeper than you'd care to admit, but you couldn't be sure about his feelings about you.

You decided after a glass of wine that you would go to sleep, and go straight to Michael in the morning to talk about everything. As you laid in bed, you couldn't help but feel butterflies at the thought of Michael, and the thought of what was to come.

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

The next morning, you stayed true to your plan and bypassed every part of your morning routine and went straight to Michael's assistant.

"Do you know If Michael has made it into the studio this morning?" You asked.

The assistant looked up from her desk. "Oh! Miss y/n, I wasn't expecting you this morning."

You nodded politely, but couldn't help but feel the need to rush this along. "Um.. Michael?" You asked again.

"Oh yes, let's see. Oh... well this isn't supposed to be public knowledge, but it's you so I'm sure It's fine, but Michael isn't supposed to be in the studio until later this evening. He had a special meeting this morning."

"Special meeting? With who?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"I'm not supposed to say, but again, it's you. He is with Miss Lisa Marie."

Your arms dropped to your side. There had been a lot of talk and rumors about Michael and Lisa Marie Presley. They had been seen out together a few times, but it had been a long time since that had all happened. You had assumed there wasn't anything going on. Michael had never once mentioned her name to you, but obviously she was still prevalent in his life if he was blocking off his sacred studio time to meet with her secretly.

"Miss l/n, are you alright?" The assistant asked. You hadn't realized how long you had been standing there silently.

"Yes, I'm fine. Please don't tell Michael I came by."

She started to say something, but you had already turned to walk away, your heels furiously clicking down the hallway.

At first you were confused, then the confusion turned to anger. How could Michael treat you the way he had, gotten so close to you, almost kiss you, and then still be entertaining another woman.

But she wasn't just any woman, she was Lisa Marie Presley for God's sake. She was ethereal and possibly the most perfect woman on the face of the earth. Of course he would want her.

There had been talk about their relationship not being the healthiest, and they had been "off" for a while. He must have just been using you and growing closer with you in an effort to make her jealous, and that stunt he pulled last night wasn't because he cared about you, but because he was scared of losing a piece of his chess game with Lisa Marie.

By the time you made it to John's office, you had fully convinced yourself of this, and you were absolutely fuming. You swung open his door, and was relieved to see that he wasn't present. You marched over to his desk, and violently snatched a notepad and pen.

You scribbled a note.

"Dear Mr. Branca,

I hereby terminate my employment for Mr. Michael Jackson, effective immediately.

y/n l/n"

You stood from the desk, and walked out, not even stopping to grab anything from your own office.

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

"Miss l/n, I didn't expect you so soon." Prince stated as you sat down across from him at his desk.

"Well, I was eager to get started." You said.

"I'm glad. I'll have my lawyers draw up the employment contract we agreed on immediately." He smiled.

"I actually have one more stipulation I would like to add."

"Your wish is my command." He said, but raised an eyebrow.

"I would like no contact from my former employers, and I would like your help in ensuring that." You stated firmly.

Prince smirked, obviously intrigued. "I have no doubt we can make that happen."

You breathed a sigh of relief, but the anger was still boiling within. While you sat there, waiting to sign the contract with Prince, you were none the wiser to the absolute turmoil you had left behind across town.

"What the hell do you mean she's gone?" Michael yelled at John. John flinched slightly, as Michael was never one to raise his voice.

"I wish I could tell you more Michael, but this all she left me.” He placed the angrily scribbled note in front of Michael. “I haven't been able to reach her at all."

"That's it, I'm going over there." Michael said, aggressively stuffing his arms into his jacket.

"Going where?" John asked, placing himself between Michael and the door.

"To that viper Prince's office. I know he is behind this, I just need to talk to her, bring her back, and give him a piece of my mind while I'm at it."

"You can't do that and you know it." John tried to reason.

"And why the hell not?" Michael asked, trying to get by John.

"Because you showing up there to drag her away is only going to look bad for you, Prince, and her. Besides, we aren't even completely sure she's over there. Y/n is smart, and she wouldn't have done this lightheartedly. We just need to stay calm and figure out what's going on."

John's words seemed to bring a little bit of calm to Michael, or at least talk him out of storming into Prince's offices with the media hot on his tail.

"Fine." He snapped. "But get me Brad in here immediately, and I want everyone trying like hell to get her on the phone."

John nodded, and left the room to find Brad and try to rack his brain as to what was going on.

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

It had been a week since you left that note on John's desk, and you were settling into your new office. Prince had gone all out with a corner office and incredible view. You had everything you asked for and then some. You had an assistant right outside your office, something you never had before, and it was amazing.

You hadn't heard a single word from Michael or John. You didn't know if that was because they weren't reaching out, or because Prince had your assistant screening your calls. You didn't care.

You felt bad about icing John out, and you knew you wouldn't forever, he was your mentor after all, but right now he was too close to Michael for you to talk to him. Talking to him would just be an opening for Michael to get to you, even indirectly, and you wanted nothing to do with him right now, so you just busied yourself with all the work you could do for Prince.

A few more weeks passed, and you were thriving. You hadn't been anywhere besides the office or your apartment, and that was completely fine with you. You were busy gearing up for Prince's first performance with you running things. You had booked him an amazing gig, and he was extremely pleased. You were excited, and so was everyone else in the office.

You and Prince were on the way to his performance, siting in the back of a luxurious limousine. You had been going over a few final details with him when you began to notice how tight the security was. Even tighter than you'd ever experienced when working for Michael, and he was by no means a smaller artist than Prince.

"Do you always have this much security at your shows?" You asked as he guided you out of the limo by hand.

"Not usually." Was all he said. You were curious.

"Why the change?" You asked.

"I'm keeping you protected. Just like you asked." He smiled.

You uttered a polite thanks, but something didn't sit exactly right with you. Yes, you had asked him to ensure that Michael couldn't reach you, but you were really just trying to prevent him from flooding your emails or showing up at your new office. You didn't feel threatened by Michael at all, he wouldn't hurt a fly. Nothing about Michael or John made you feel like you needed this level of security.

But at the end of the day, Prince was just providing you what you asked for, and If it kept you from having to face Michael after what happened in your office, then you were okay with it.

At least that is what you kept telling yourself.

Security only seemed to increase as you kept working for Prince. Your calls and inbox seemed extremely filtered. At any event you were at, Prince kept you close by, and his security was almost always within arms reach, even though Michael had yet to show up at any event you were at.

You kept telling yourself everything was alright, and you threw yourself into your work for Prince.

One night, you were working really late. You had been going through several headshots of dancers and actresses, trying to decide which one would best fit Prince’s idea for his new music video.

Prince had came in your office about an hour ago, letting you know he was heading home. He was so kind to you, and you had kindled a good friendship in your time working for him. He told you not to stay too late, and you promised you wouldn’t be up too much longer.

You were getting ready to fulfill that promise, and started packing up your things when there was a knock at the door.

You thought this was odd, as your assistant had went home hours ago, and to your knowledge, there was no one else in the office that would be coming to you this late.

A slight nervousness set in as you heard the doorknob turn. You reached for your desk phone, ready to call emergency services if the intruder turned out to be dangerous.

But you dropped your hand away from the receiver when you met the eyes of the man on the other side of the door.

“What are you doing here John?” You crossed your arms.

“I had to talk to you.” Was all he said as he closed the door softly behind him.

“How did you even get in?”

“Your assistant wasn’t here to have security escort me out again, and I waited for the guy downstairs to take a bathroom break.”

“What do you mean again?” You asked, curious.

“I’ve been trying to see you or call you for weeks. Every call of mine gets dropped before it gets to you, and I’ve been escorted out of this building too many times to count. This is the first time I’ve made it to you.” He explained, running his fingers through his hair. He was stressed, you could tell.

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve been having a lot of trouble, but there isn’t really anything to talk about.” You said, grabbing your things and starting for the door.

“Y/n, stop.” He said firmly. His tone caused your steps to cease. He wasn’t yelling, but John had never taken this tone of voice with you. It was commanding, but more desperate than anything.

“Listen, I don’t know what is going on between you and Michael, but-.”

“There’s nothing going on between me and Michael, and there never was.” You interrupted him, venom lacing your words. You had been able to push back all the emotions and anger you had over everything, but John standing in front of you and addressing it was like opening a wound that never closed in the first place.

“Y/n. I know you. I know him. And the two of you are acting like- I don’t even know what you’re acting like. I’ve never seen something like this. Could you just talk to me and tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on.” You stated firmly.

“Why did you leave?” He said with a softness in his voice that told you he wasn’t just here on Michael’s behalf, he was here for himself too.

“I’m sorry I hurt you John, but this was always the plan. You’re the one that set up the meeting and pushed me this direction in the first place. You knew it was the next step for my career and you were right.” You tried to explain.

“Don’t hide behind that y/n. You could’ve left amicably. You could’ve talked to me. Talked to Michael. Instead you left an angry note and completely disappeared.”

You sucked in a breath. You couldn’t get into the truth with John. The details were too painful. Too embarrassing. How could you tell him that you fell for Michael only to realize he had been playing you for attention from Lisa Marie?

“Like I said, It was right for my career.” You reached for the door handle, desperate to get out.

“He’s not doing good!” John threw out, desperate to get you to stay and explain. You were silent and didn’t remove your hand from the door, but didn’t leave either.

“He won’t do anything. He refuses to work. He won’t come in the office, and hasnt even been in the studio since you left. Please y/n, just talk to me. Talk to us. We can figure this out.” John pleaded.

“I wish you both the best.” Was the last thing you said before you left him standing in your office.

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

Seeing John had you off your game. In the days that followed, you weren’t completely focused. You were still sharp and poised, but with less intensity. Prince noticed this.

You were in the studio, going over a few demos with Prince and one of his producers when he finally commented on it.

“Give us a minute will you?” And the producer left the room.

“What’s up with you?” He asked gently.

You sighed and decided to tell him. Talking a little bit about it might help you get over it and refocus.

“John came to see me in my office last night.”

Prince’s features changed from shock to frustration.

“How did he get in? Where was security?”

“That doesn’t matter. He was there.”

Prince hadn’t once pressed you for details about your request to have your former employers kept away, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. Regardless, he honored your wishes and was upset that he had failed.

“Well we can implement better security. I’ll make sure everyone has a picture of him and he won’t get near you again, I promise.”

“No, I don’t want that.” You said, and then started again. “John was my mentor, and my leaving didn’t have anything to do with him. He cares about me, and I shouldn’t have shut him out the way I did.”

Prince didn’t speak up and let you continue.

“I.. I think I would like to continue my relationship with him. You don’t have to keep him out of the building anymore, and I’ll tell my assistant she doesn’t have to screen his calls. He’s my friend, and I miss him.”

“Alright.” Prince nodded. “We can make that happen. Easy.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “What about Michael?”

You weren’t exactly sure what you wanted, but you knew you were still hurt, and that anger was still within you.

“I don’t want to see him. Just John.”

“Your wish is my command.”

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

Prince followed through, and now John was on his way up to have lunch with you. Your assistant rang through the phone.

“Mr. Branca is here.”

“Let him in.”

John entered silently, and sat two bags of food down onto your desk.

“Your favorite.” Was all he said.

You sat for a few minutes in silence.

“This is a nice office. Even better than mine.”

“I know, It was my only goal when I got here. To have an office better than yours” you joked. John chuckled, took a sip of his drink, and then spoke again.

“Michael wants-.”

“I don’t care what Michael wants.” You interrupted. “I don’t want to hear about Michael. I don’t want to talk to or about him. I invited you here because you’re my friend, and I don’t want to keep icing you out. We can have our relationship, but I don’t want anything Michael related anywhere near it. Do you understand?” You were firm.

John nodded. After a few minutes, the awkwardness was gone and you fell back into old conversation.

In the following weeks, you continued to keep contact with John. He honored your wish and never brought up Michael. You both were busy, so you didn’t talk everyday, but you had finally blocked out an evening to go have dinner away from your office.

It was later in the evening, and most everyone was out. Your assistant had already gone home, and you were touching up your hair when there was a knock at the door. Assuming it was John, you told him to come in.

The door opening slowly, and your back was turned to it. You were searching for your purse when the voice behind you sent chills down your spine.

"You look absolutely beautiful."

You froze, unable to turn around and meet his eyes. You would know that voice anywhere. Anyone would.

"Michael?" You breathed out before turning around to meet his eyes. He was wearing casual pants and shoes, and had on a hoodie with a flannel over it. The hood was pulled over his head, and he wore sunglasses to conceal his eyes. No doubt the disguise that got him past security.

"How did you get up here?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I came with John. Security lets him in and it's late and they didn't ask any questions. He pulled the hood down and removed his glasses, and God he was gorgeous. Even in the most casual outfit he could put on, he still radiated that Michael Jackson energy. The energy that was so captivating, that you had missed, almost had you walking over to him and pulling him into a hug. Then every other feeling came back, and the desire to hug him quickly became a desire to slap him across the face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, eyes narrowed.

"What am I doing here? What am I doing here?" He repeated, frustration evident in his tone. "What are you doing here y/n? This isn't where you belong."

"I am working, Michael. And you don't get to tell me where I belong. That isn't your decision to make." You spat.

"I get it, I get that you had to do what was right for your career. I understand that more than anyone else. But you just left! You didn't even tell me, I had to find out from John. And then you completely shut me out. I never stopped trying to reach you, but every single one of my efforts was met with silence. You just left me, after everything that we had. After what happened between us- you just left!" Desperation was evident in his tone, but you were too angry to care.

"Michael there was nothing between us!" You finally broke, after weeks of pushing back every thought and feeling about him and Lisa Marie, you were finally speaking it out loud. "You didn't care about me, you were just using me in your game with Lisa Marie, and I wasn't going to stick around and let you hurt me like that."

You felt the familiar sting of tears pricking your eyes, and tried to fight them back. The last thing you wanted to do was give Michael the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

"y/n," He spoke tenderly, stepping closer to you. "I.. I don't even know where you would get an idea like that. There hasn't been anything between Lisa and I for a very long time."

"Oh spare me." you scoffed. "I went to you. The morning after we almost.. it doesn't matter. I went to find you, to talk about us and my job with Prince, and your assistant told me you were with her."

Michael shrank into himself. Not out of guilt, out of the realization that all of this was because of a simple misunderstanding.

"Y/n, I wasn't meeting with her like that. It was purely business. She had reached out about wanting to collaborate on something, and I only took the meeting to tell her no in person. I was telling her that I wanted to keep distance between us because we were over and had been for a long time. I was going to tell her that I was in love with someone else." He stepped even closer, but you took a step back.

"Then why did your assistant say it was a "special" meeting, and that she wasn't supposed to tell anyone about it"

"Because she had been trying to schedule it for awhile, and I kept putting it off. I didn't want anyone to know because I am completely done with her, and didn't want it causing any confusion or something like this."

You wanted to believe him, you did. But you had spent so long believing the story you had told yourself, and it was hard to get away from those feelings or hurt, anger and betrayal.

"y/n, I have been captivated by you from the moment you started working on my team. For years, I tried to ignore it. I focused on my career, taking for granted the fact that you would always be around, and then when I thought I was going to lose you, I couldn't bear it. And then I did lose you, and It has been absolute hell. I'm so sorry I didn't do something sooner, but please, hear me out and give me the chance to show you how much you mean to me."

You were silent. You didn't know what to say. So many emotions were swirling in your head, and you didn't know what to believe. Part of you wanted to run into Michael's arms, and let him kiss you and never let go. Another part of you wanted to retreat into yourself and get away from the emotional turmoil. But before you could make a decision, your office door was swinging open.

"Wait!" You heard John's voice call out, but it was too late.

Prince was standing in your office. He looked first to you, then to Michael.

"I'm sorry, I tried to stop him." John was now standing in your office, slightly out of breath.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Prince asked angrily. "Get out!"

"Hey, calm down." You said soothingly. Prince turned his gaze to you and his features softened.

"Im not angry with you," He said in a gentler tone. "Never you. Its him." He set his eyes on Michael again with a scowl. "You need to leave. Now."

"No." Was all Michael said.

"Excuse me?" Prince said, his tone growing angry again. You looked to John, who gave you a look that said he didn't know what to do either.

"She's allowed to see whoever she wants." Michael stated firmly.

"She told me she didn't want to see you."

That landed with Michael, and you could tell, but he regained composure quickly. Prince spoke again.

"And I have honored that decision. I have given her everything she asked for and more."

Your chest tightened at his words. They were the truth. Everything Prince had done to keep Michael away was at your request.

"She belongs where she chooses to be, and people are allowed to change their minds." Michael stated cooly, but strong.

Prince studied him for a long moment, then he looked to you. You didn't say anything. You didn't know what to say. Then he spoke with finality.

"Leave. Before I have security remove you."

The room held its breath. Michael didn't move right away. He didn't argue or escalate things, he just looked at you. He really looked at you. Then he turned for the door.

He took a step. Another.

And then, before you could process what was happening, he turned on his heel with a gracefulness that only Michael Jackson could possess and closed the distance between you two in seconds.

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed you. Not hesitantly, not uncertain, completely sure. Like every word he hadn't been able to say you the past few weeks landed right there instead. On your lips.

Your breath caught. You weren't expecting it. You didn't have time to even think about kissing him back before it was over.

Prince was grabbing him by the shoulder, pulling him away. Michael whipped his head to him and spoke with an angry, chilling tone.

"Take your hands off me."

Prince didn't move. You stood there, feeling the tension between the two men, scared of how things might escalate.

You looked to John, and pleaded him to help with your eyes. You knew this had to stop before it turned into something worse. Something none of you could walk away from clean.

"Hey, hey" John stepped forward, grabbing Michael and pulling him back just enough to break the line between them. Michael didn't pull away, didn't fight back, just looked at you.

"I know you feel it too." Was all he said. You were completely silent, too bewildered to say anything.

"I'll leave here tonight." He looked to Prince. "But unless she looks me in the eye and tells me she doesn't ever want to see me again- that she doesn't love me, I won't be going anywhere."

The room was silent.

And then- Michael smirked. That slight edge. That Michael Jackson confidence that was unique only to him.

"But we both know she won't do that."

And with those words, he pulled away from John and walked out, leaving the door open behind him. John cast one final glance your way before following him, and then it was just you.

And Prince.

His jaw was tight, but then he looked to you and softened again.

"I'm sorry." The words came fast. You weren't quite comprehending why he was apologizing, your head still spinning from what had all just happened. "I'm sorry I failed you." He said, slower this time.

"What?" You blinked.

"You asked me to keep him away, and I've been honoring that, but tonight- something must have slipped through the cracks. I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "No, it's alright."

He stilled.

"I mean it." you continued, "You've been.. really good to me. I asked for that, all of it. I asked you to control my environment, and you gave it to me.

"I thought it was what you wanted."

"I know." You said softly. "But things with Michael, they're a lot more complicated than I thought.

He was silent, attempting to understand everything that was going on. You had never given him any details. As he stood there, something seemed to shift in him.

"If you want me to let up, I will."

You looked to him, not knowing exactly what to say.

"No restrictions, no unnecessary security, no running interference. If you want to figure things out with him... you can."

You didn't expect that.

"I've only ever been doing what I thought you wanted."

And you believed him. It didn't feel sharp or controlling, just honest.

"It was what I wanted. When I came here, I meant it." You paused and sighed. "But I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn't have all the information."

Your mind flickered to his assistant. "He's with Miss Lisa Marie."

Prince nodded. "You can do whatever you want, and I will make it happen." He took a breath and then continued. "My only request is that you keep it out of the headlines. It won't look good for me. Or you. Or him.”

You nodded. He wasn't wrong.

"This whole figuring things out.. it doesn't need an audience."

"I agree with you." You spoke softly. Then you stepped forward, and hugged him. He froze for a moment, then relaxed into it.

"Thank you, for everything." A moment, and then, "I'm not running away." You added. He pulled back and looked at you.

"I don't know what is going to happen with Michael, but I am not going to leave you high and dry."

"I know." He said, and you could feel the trust in it.

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

You decided not to run straight to Michael after the turmoil of events in your office. You needed space to breathe for a while.

Time passed. You continued working for Prince. You continued to thrive.

Meanwhile, Michael couldn't stay still.

Not after finally saying it. Not after kissing you. But he remembered who you were. You didn't make decisions lightly, and you moved with precision and poise. So instead of pushing you before you were ready, he just sent things.

Gifts. Flowers. Food. Everything came a with small note with his name. Not demanding, just present. His way of telling you that he was still there, and waiting.

You didn't respond directly. Not because you didn't feel it, the pull of the feelings between you and Michael, but because you weren't ready to fully step into yet.

So instead, you called John.

"Hey," he picked up immediately.

"I will talk to him."

There was a moment of silence, and then John slowly exhaled.

"Okay.." He said cautiously.

"Just not yet." You stated. "And when I do, it has to be completely private. Im serious. No leaks. This can't get out."

"I'll handle it. Nothing gets out, I promise."

You hung up the phone and sank back into your seat, slightly nervous.

Because this was non-negotiable. You knew this wasn't just about how you and Michael felt about each other, this was about the optics, the timing, and the narrative.

You had left Michael Jackson's team for Prince. You were publicly tied to their rivalry. If you were seen with Michael now, It would be bad for all three of you.

So you waited for the right time.

But when has anything ever worked out on the planned timeline?

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

The article came when you were least expecting it. You were familiar with this kind of behavior from journalists. When there isn't anything big happening, they start writing. Speculating. Hoping that they can poke the bear just enough for something real to come out, and this was exactly what was happening.

It came across your desk late one night. When you first saw it, it was small. Barely anyone was talking about it. Then it grew to a headline.

"Y/n L/n? Mastermind in the office, or Mastermind in the sheets?"

It was scandalous. To be someone with your success and be a woman didn't go down easy with everyone. You were familiar with the scrutiny, but this was something different entirely.

The article was tearing you down behind the safety of "alleged" and "speculation." It was basically accusing you of sleeping your way to the top through Michael Jackson, John Branca, and Prince. It was pretty much calling you an underserving slut through creative language and pointed questions.

You tried to ignore it, but it only started a snowball as fans from both Michael and Prince continued to circulate it and continue talking about you.

You were sitting at your desk, reading over the article for the tenth time, angry tears pricking at your eyes. You had worked so hard to get where you were. Everything you had was built through hard work, and you knew deserved every bit of it. But this article, these lies, were tearing everything down.

Your door swung open, and Prince walked in, obviously angry. The article was crumpled in his hands.

"Have you seen this absurdity?" You didn't respond, you just grabbed the article from your desk and angrily tossed it in the trash.

"None of it's true, you know that." He approached you. "Its lies. All of it."

He saw the tears in your eyes and softened, coming around your desk.

"Hey, I don't want you to worry about this. It's being handled."

"They're tearing me apart." You said softly.

"I know." He said. A pause. "Michael and I are handling it."

You looked up to him. "...What?"

"We're handling it."

"You're.. working together?" You brows pulled together.

Prince exhaled. "We've got common ground here."

You blinked at him.

"We both care about you."

Your chest tightened and you stood to wrap your arms around him.

"Thank you." You replied, voice still small.

He didn't say anything, he just pulled away to look at you. He tilted your chin up gently then spoke again.

"Go to him."

You froze. "What?"

"You heard me."

"A..Are you sure?" you stuttered.

He nodded, no hesitation.

"He's been worried. He didn't want to push. But he made it very clear. He's there when you need him. When you're ready."

Your throat tightened.

"And you need him right now. He can give you the one thing I can't. That I never could."

You stared at him.

"I'm not firing you yet." He joked, which brought a small smile to your face. "Now go. There's a car waiting for you downstairs."

You grabbed your things and paused before you walked out the door. You walked back over to him, and placed a s soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you." You whispered, and then you were gone. Finally, going to Michael with no reservations, and it felt better than you could ever imagine.

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

You arrived at his doorstep, and before you could knock, it was swinging open.

The second he saw you, he moved. He pulled you inside. Once the door was shut, he pulled you to him, holding you tightly against his body. As if he could convey his every thought through his embrace. You rested your head on his shoulder, and he placed his hand on your head, gently running his fingers through your hair.

"None of it is true." He said quietly.

"I know." You said. "I know who I am."

Then you pulled back and looked at him.

"Why didn't you say it sooner?"

There it was, the question that had been burning your brain since he kissed you in your office.

"I thought I had time." He said simply. "I thought you'd always be around. And then everything got bigger, and I kept choosing to focus on work. I kept telling myself I didn't want to complicate your life and would come to you when things slowed down."

He laughed quietly, almost bitterly.

"They never slowed down."

Your chest tightened as he continued.

"And when I finally came to you, it was too late. You were gone."

"I wasn't gone" You said. "I just.. I just didn't have the full story, and I reacted on impulse. I'm sorry Michael. I'm sorry I didn't give you the benefit of the doubt. That I didn't let you explain."

"No, do not blame yourself. I should fought harder for you. I should fought sooner." He placed his hands on your cheeks.

"And now?" you asked.

"And now I'm not letting you walk away without knowing exactly how I feel about you." His face was close.

Your breath caught slightly.

"Then say it again."

That surprised him, but only for a second. He leaned closer to your face.

"I love you."

And then he crashed his lips into yours.

You kissed him back this time, passionately. Fervently. As if everything you had felt all these years could come out through your lips on his.

He gripped you tightly, and he never wanted to let you go.

And now that he had you, the girl he has spent years quietly loving...

-

series masterlist

-

Summary: Things are hard. You are struggling. How did you get here? Danger incoming.

A/N: We're really getting into the thick of it. Enjoy!! I'm having so much fun writing and the next few chapters are going to be so amazing. As always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, reblog, and tell me what you're thinking about the fic!

-

You woke up feeling worse than you have in years.

You felt like you had a raging hangover- something you hadn't experienced since college.

You must have fallen asleep on the couch and one of the Avengers brought you up to your room. Funny, you didn't remember feeling tired.

You had that apocalyptic post-nap feeling. You were cold but somehow also sweaty. Your mouth was dry, you had no idea what day it was, and your eyes felt swollen. It hurt to open them and look around at the daylight.

You stretched, yawned, and decided to get up. You would need to start making breakfast for the Avengers.

You looked over to your alarm clock, staring for a moment as your sleep fogged vision began to focus.

12:02 p.m.

You had to look three times to be sure. You never slept this late. You should've been up and cooking hours ago- everyone was probably starving and hangry.

You jumped from the bed and threw on some of the first acceptable clothes you could find. You turned to look at the mirror on your dresser- ready to asses the damage of your oversleeping- when your heart crashed to the bottom of your stomach at a nauseating velocity.

You almost missed it at first- you were so used to it being there, you had forgotten to even look at it. You noticed the emptiness of your dresser first, not even able to put your finger on what was missing.

That's when it hit you so hard you struggled for a steady breath.

The shield was gone.

"As long as this is here, you'll know we still are."

Steve's words replayed in your mind.

"As long as this is here, you'll know we still are."

You couldn't quite breathe. You felt your vision begin to blacken at the edges.

"Steve!' You called out.

"Bucky! Tony!" You called more frantically. You felt your knees begin to weaken. You couldn't think straight.

You dropped down to your knees, trying to calm yourself, except all your medical knowledge of how to handle situations like these seemed to dissipate. You couldn't focus. You kept calling for the avengers- any of them- hoping one of them would come wrap you up in their arms and hold you until you calmed down.

You kept telling yourself Steve would come steady you with his strong arms. He'd engulf you in his body heat, and your heart would steady at his presence- just as it always had.

Bucky would enter in just a moment, comforting you with his presence and watching you until he knew you were alright. He'd stay with you, blanketing you in his protectiveness and making you feel invincible.

You'd smell the sandalwood, cinnamon, and gasoline and then soon feel Tony's facial hair tickling your ear as he whispered soothing confirmations in your ear. You would breathe easier, settling into the familiar scent.

You blacked out in the floor waiting for things that were never coming.

-

When you woke up on the exact same spot of the floor later that afternoon, you knew they were really gone. No one had come for you, no one had helped you in your moment of need.

You were completely and utterly alone for the first time in months.

You decided to assess the extent of the damage they left behind. You started with Steve's room, hoping to find anything to hold him goodbye. As the door creaked open, your heart pounded with a slight sense of hope.

Maybe he was still here. Maybe this was all just a huge misunderstanding.

He wasn't.

His bed was made with pristine soldier-like perfection. There was not a wrinkle in the comforter. Or a trace of him in the room at all. You searched but came up empty handed.

Every room was like this.

Bed made perfectly, as if no one had touched it in years- just like they were before the Avengers had come into your life.

You'd entered the living room, shocked to see the TV was gone.

Why would they take the TV? Sure, Tony paid for it, but you had no idea why he would need to take it with him.

You sat quietly in the rocking chair that Bruce always sat in, and scanned over the bookshelf.

After one slow afternoon, Bruce had decided to re-organize your bookshelf with a fancy system that he had come up with himself.

The books were now out of order again.

Every magazine that you had bought Natasha was gone. They no longer sat in a neat pile under the coffee table.

The crossword puzzle's Steve would always complete were gone too.

You went outside, and immediately noticed that the ugly wifi router Tony had built on top of the hen house was gone as well.

You entered the barn, not even surprised to see that every piece of workout equipment was gone.

The last remaining bits of the wreckage that landing the Avengers in your life were gone too.

Everything- every little trace- was completely gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. You were beginning to tire of the word. Everything was exactly as it was before them. It was like they were never even there.

You felt completely lost- for so long your life had revolved around caring for the Avengers, and now that they were gone, you had no idea what to do yourself.

You walked back inside quietly. Where it used to be noisy with Natasha watching a movie, Tony blaring AC/DC, and Steve and Bucky constantly going back and forth- was only an eerie silence now.

You heard the creak of the wooden floorboard under your feet. You shivered. The house was cold.

Steve had always made sure there a was a fire in the fireplace, and that your blanket was warm.

You shivered for a different reason now.

The weight that had settled in your chest when you first noticed the missing shield only seemed to grow heavier.

You stood in the doorway of the house, and stared at the inside- hoping you'd blink and they would be there. That it would all be just a cruel joke or misunderstanding.

But the longer you stood there, the more the truth was solidified.

They were gone. They left without saying goodbye- just like they promised they wouldn't.

You were too sad to be angry at the broken promise just yet, but it settled in your chest deeper than anything else.

The trust you thought you had in them wasn't real. Maybe it never even was.

Maybe they never even cared about you like you had thought. Maybe you made it all up in your head.

You felt the tears begin to swell in your eyes, and your throat felt like it was closing in as a sob made its way to your lips.

You choked it back, grabbed your keys, and slammed the front door as you left.

You couldn't be in there right now- their absence was too present.

--

You pulled into the employee parking lot, and as you entered the ER you felt the eyes of every one of your co-workers. You held your head up high and made your way to your boss' office. Hopefully Tony's word still carried enough weight, and you could return from your "work" with Stark Industries and back to your normal job.

You couldn't sit around the house. Getting back into work was the only thing you could think of doing.

"Come in." You heard your boss say as you knocked on the door.

Your footsteps felt heavy as you made your way to the chair.

"Oh! Y/n! It's good to see you again. How's your work with Stark been?" She asked, then lowered to a whisper as she leaned in. "We've all been so curious about what you could be doing."

You smiled and it hurt. It pulled at your heart to hear Tony's name. But you pushed through.

"It's over now. I wanted to talk to you about picking up shifts in the ER. I know I probably can't get my preferred schedule back, but I'll take anything. Night shift, doubles, you name it. I'm just ready to be back." You explained.

"Well you know we can always use extra help around here. I can get you back on the schedule and payroll as early as tonight if you're ready." She said, pulling up her computer.

"Yes that would be-" you paused. "Why do you have to add me back to payroll when I've been on it this whole time?"

Your boss looked at you confused.

"You were taken off payroll when Mr. Stark informed us that you would be working for him for awhile."

"That.. that's not possible. I've still been getting my checks every month."

"Well, those weren't from us. We haven't direct deposited anything to your account in months. I remember signing the form confirming the cancelation of your paychecks."

You sat back in the chair, confused. Then you felt the lightbulb above your head.

Tony.

He had been the one to "handle" the situation with your boss. He had gotten you the time off, but not the paid time off like he claimed.

He had to have been the one depositing the money into your account all this time- probably because you refused to accept any payment from him, and he knew this was the only way to make sure you were still compensated while taking care of them.

After a moment, you cleared your throat and began to work everything out with your boss. Before you knew it, you were slipping into a pair of scrubs in the locker room, unable to shake the feeling that this new information had settled into your chest.

--

You spent the next two weeks breaking your back at work. You took every single shift available- night or day, double or single. You were at the hospital more than home, which you did not mind because it helped you distract yourself.

Everywhere you turned at home you were slapped with a memory of the Avengers. Every corner held a ghost of them, and it made you physically nauseous.

On the nights that you did go home, you usually skipped whatever meal correlated with the time of day you arrived and went straight to shower or sleep.

It was easier to sleep at the hospital- it was never quiet there. Here you were left with nothing but your thoughts and memories that felt like a knife was being twisted into your heart.

This night was particularly hard. You had been living in scrubs for too long, but you were never home enough to do laundry, so all your clothes were dirty.

You had sulked down the stairs and to your parents old room- Tony's old room.

Your hand hovered over the doorknob and shook.

You hadn't been in any of the rooms since the day they left. You were scared of what it was going to make your heart feel like.

Just go in, grab some of your dad's clothes, and leave.

You tried to convince yourself everything would be fine, and you did- for just a second.

The very moment the door opened and you stepped inside, your nose caught the all too familiar scent of sandalwood, cinnamon, and faint hints of gasoline. The whole room smelled like Tony, even though every physical trace of him had been erased.

You stood in the center of the room, just breathing for a moment. You felt the corners of your mouth turn up in the slightest smile.

Smelling Tony was almost like having him there again, right next to you. If you were still enough, you could almost feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, and the ghostly tickle of his chin against your neck as he whispered something smart and sarcastic in your ear.

But you were pulled from the trance almost as quickly as you fell captive to it.

Tony wasn't there.

You felt an anger rise in your chest. Anger at him. Anger at the world. Anger at yourself.

You stomped over to your dad's dresser and snatched the first shirt and sweatpants you could find to sleep in.

You angrily stomped through the house and back into your room and slammed the door. This knocked over the huge empty vase you kept on a stool by the door.

Bucky had always been oddly fascinated with this vase- the color and shape and size. He'd look at it every time he came around it, and each time his expression contained more and more awe.

The vase fell and shattered to the floor.

You let out a cry of anger and clenched your fists- this is exactly what you needed right now. Not only did you break a vase, but it was Bucky's favorite vase. It just seemed symbolic of how they had abandoned your life so quickly and left yourself to pick up the pieces alone. You looked down at the mess, wondering if it was possible to super glue it back together. Then your heart dropped.

Amongst the broken pieces and dust sat a fully solved rubix cube.

You stared at it for a moment, completely confused. The last time you had seen it was in Bucky's hands in the living room before you passed out.

You approached it slowly- as if it were a baby animal you were trying not to scare away. You were scared. You were scared this was exhaustion and sleep deprivation playing with your mind.

Once you finally reached down and held it in your hand, once you physically felt the reminder of Bucky, you let out an exasperated sob.

You sat on the floor next to the broken pieces for a long time, clutching the rubix cube close to your chest as if it could fill the massive hole left by the Avengers.

--

The next morning, you awoke a little later than usual. It was your day off, the rare, mandated day of rest the hospital gave after you worked too many consecutive hours in a row.

You dragged yourself from the bed to the bathroom. As you reached for your tooth brush and caught sight of yourself in the mirror, your heart stalled slightly.

The shirt you were wearing was the shirt of your dad's you had given Steve the very first day they were here. He'd worn it, and it had fit him awkwardly, but he had worn it all the same. You gripped the toothbrush tighter and told yourself you would not cry.

You felt pathetic, still falling apart at the smallest reminders of them.

They obviously had not cared enough about you to even say goodbye, and here you were, weeks later, still reveling in the despair of their memory.

You hadn't realized how aggressively you were brushing your teeth until you spit and saw streaks of blood in the toothpaste.

You decided to get dressed and be productive around the farm today- a task you'd been neglecting since the exit of the Avengers.

You went to the barn first to feed Thunder and Lucy. They seemed to pick up on the fact that you were not in scrubs, and seemed to be in higher spirits than normal. You decided that this morning you would take them for a ride.

You rode Lucy first, taking her the scenic route by the pond and a few laps around the fields. You felt a little freer as you rode, almost as if you were escaping the emotions you held within.

You returned her to her stall and started towards Thunder, ready to take him for a similar ride. As soon as you pulled him from the stall, he resisted and pulled back. This was highly unlike him. You were confused. You tried again, and he yanked his head away, pulling the lead rope from your hands.

"Thunder, come on boy, what's wrong?"

"Step away from the equine." A voice with a thick accent said behind you.

You dropped the rope slowly, your heart pounding in your chest in a way you had never felt before.

You quickly scanned your surroundings, looking for anything you could defend yourself with.

There was a bucket in Thunder's stall, but nothing else.

Your fathers old rifle sat by the door, but it was too far from you currently. You decided you would turn around and make a break for the gun and out the door to your car. But as soon as you turned to face the intruder, you knew there was no hope.

You stood face to face with at least ten men, all suited and armed with military grade assault rifles.

You raised your arms, showing you were unarmed, and hoping this was a huge misunderstanding. Surely they had the wrong place. What could anyone want with you?

"We finally meet, miss y/n."

Shit.

"I- I don't know what you want, but I don't have any money, and there's nothing of high value here except for the land itself." You stuttered.

"We aren't here for money." The man who seemed to be the leader stepped forward, causing you to take a shaking step back.

"We're here for the Avengers."

----

-

series masterlist

-

Summary: You're on cloud nine after Tony Bucky and Steve work out their issues.Intense moments shared. Heavy and maybe slightly obvious foreshadowing. They've all grown to love you so much it hurts. Shit is getting REAL.

A/N: Wrote this at 3am in a fever dream, just finished re reading and editing, so excited to write the next few chapters. BE READY. As per usual, let me know what you think, who you want to end up with, and reblog if you would be so kind!!

-

You had enjoyed all the time that the Avengers had spent with you thus far, but now, you felt as though you were literally walking on sunshine. The mornings were brighter, meals at the table held a renewed sense of joy, and above all, each avenger seemed genuinely happy. Not that they appeared unhappy before, but they were just lighter now. Even Natasha and Bruce, who had not been directly involved, seemed to have lost a weight off their shoulders. 

You were all now sitting around in the living room- together, but each in your own world. Bruce was sitting in the recliner by the bookshelf- your father's old spot that he seems to have claimed as his own. Natasha was perched on the arm rest, flipping through the new magazines you had bought her. She claims she hates reading them and that she is above common gossip, but the glare she gives everyone as she reaches for them is enough to make the rest of you mind your own business. Bruce was flipping through one of your old books- one you'd seen him with before- and every few minutes Natasha would lean over, look at the page he was on, then shove her magazine in his face. And every time, he was patient and pretended like whatever she was showing him was the most important thing in the world. To him, it probably was. Anything Natasha cared about, Bruce did too. You smiled as you watched them, your heart longing for something similar of your own one day.

Steve is laid across the love seat, his long legs hanging over the side. This is one of the few moments Steve is not sitting perfectly upright. His hair was even slightly tousled from running his hands through it. He was working on his crossword book that you had brought home for him.

Bucky and Tony were sat on either end of the couch, but there was no animosity this time. They were just two men who enjoyed their personal space. Tony was tinkering with the television remote. He had spent the day setting up an encrypted signal so that you could all watch "real television" as he had put it. He had grown weary of the rotation of old DVDs.

Bucky fiddled with an old rubix cube he had found laying around a few weeks ago. He'd solved it multiple times over the past few weeks, and each time he did, he found you. He always anticipated the smile it would bring you, and part of him craved the validation from it. He'd always hand it to you to mix up again.

You were sitting on the floor, wrapped up in a soft blanket, with your back leaned against the empty seat on the couch. You watched as Tony moved between channels, and listened to the soft clicks of the rubix cube. After a moment, a metal hand held it out to your face.

You turned and smiled at Bucky, taking the rubix cube, and beginning to mix it up again. You tried your hardest to make it more complicated, as Bucky was getting quicker with every attempt.

You were becoming bored, and began twiddling your thumbs, and eventually moved onto tapping the rhythm to one of your favorite songs on the face of your watch.

"Careful with that." Tony warned, lovingly. You were about to lovingly return a snarky comment when the TV began talking.

"With Pepper Potts at the head of Stark Industries and the Avengers nowhere to be seen, citizens are left wondering: when is the next attack, and will they be here to save us? Or have the Avengers retired for good?"

Every head in the room snapped toward the television. Tony had stumbled across the local news network. You looked at the reporter on the screen, standing in front of the Avengers tower, but her voice began to sound far away. You weren't listening and barely registered Tony's anxious fiddling with the remote and his attempts to change the channel as quickly as possible.

You had a bad habit of forgetting that the Avenger's weren't yours to keep- they belonged to the world. And the world was missing them. It was only a matter of time before they returned.

--

You were in the kitchen, getting ready for the huge spread you had planned for dinner. You were in a great mood and felt like celebrating now that the three men were getting along well. You had tons of random ingredients already, and after a quick trip, you had put together the best menu for the night- with each Avenger getting their favorite dish by you, It was going to take a while to cook and prep, so that is why you found yourself in the kitchen so early.

You slowly made your way out to the hen house, ready to gather more eggs, when you met Tony on the porch. He was sitting on the swing in a navy tank top, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel.

"What have you been up to?" You smiled. He stood and walked your way, tossing his towel over his shoulder.

"Sparring with Barnes. Gotta keep what's inside the suit pretty fit too." He smirked, and flexed his surprisingly large bicep.

"Oh I'm sure." You playfully rolled your eyes and started down the steps. Tony followed.

"Whatcha up to sweetheart?" He called after you.

"Getting ready for dinner. I need some more eggs."

He stepped up behind you, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating from him. You wanted to lean back into him, but you exercised better judgement and straightened your posture. He took this as a challenge.

Tony pressed his back against yours and wrapped his arms around your torso. He put his mouth right next to your ear, and when he spoke, you felt the electricity of his breath dance over your skin.

"You gonna make that pie you know I love so much?"

You swallowed, mouth dry, and forced a nod. You didn't trust your voice at this moment. Finally, after moment of charged silence, you were able to speak up.

"I planned on making it for dessert tonight, and then trying out a new recipe sometime next week." Instead of pulling away or remaining awkward in his arms, you finally just melted into him. You placed your hands on his arms that were still wrapped around you, and took a deep breath. He smelled a little bit like sweat, a little bit like cinnamon, and a lot like Tony.

Something seemed to shift in him at this moment, and his embraced turned from one of intense desire to one of intense emotion. Tony had always been physically affectionate- it didn't bother you- after all, he'd never crossed a line. But this seemed different. The almost desperate-like feeling in his embrace sent a cold chill down your spine.

--

As you cleaned the eggs, Natasha came in. She silently began helping by drying the eggs and placing them in the carton. You smiled at the presence of the red head. The two of you had grown extremely close in her time on the farm. Your relationship was one that thrived in both silence and conversation. You could talk for hours, or simply sit in silence on the couch doing absolutely nothing, and your connection was just as strong.

Steve walked in as the two of you were finishing up. Natasha looked to him, then placed the egg in her hand into the carton and withdrew from the sink.

"Rogers, help y/n finish up these last eggs. I've got to go check on Banner."

She left without even giving him a chance to respond.

Steve stepped up next to you, his large frame taking up much more kitchen space than Natasha's. At first he worked in silence, stealing glances your direction when he thought you weren't paying attention, and then finally he speaks.

"You know you look really beautiful when you wear your hair like that." He said- almost like a scared little boy. You turned to him and saw the blush creeping up his neck from under his fitted white shirt.

"Thank you Steve. You're very handsome yourself." You said playfully, trying to help with the awkwardness he was definitely feeling. It was so weird, seeing the brave soldier, Captain America, nervously shifting his weight from left to right in your kitchen- all because he called you pretty.

You dried off your hands as you got ready to start on the main portion of dinner. Steve watched you as you moved from the sink to the stove, and he reached out and grabbed your hand before ever even thinking.

You stopped and turned to him. His face was still growing increasingly red, and you tried to pretend like you didn't notice.

After a moment of silence, Steve slowly threaded his fingers between yours. You squeezed back tightly.

You stood in the kitchen, just holding his hand for a long time, before the redness finally left his complexion and his gaze softened and began to hold something you couldn't quite place. After a moment, he used your interlocked hands to pull you into his chest. It was firm, but one of the most warm and comforting things you'd ever felt.

He held you for a moment and sucked in a tight breath.

All you could do in that moment was hold him back. For as long as he'd let you.

--

Dinner was going amazingly.

They were eating all the food and complimenting you like normal, but they all seemed to be enjoying tonight even more than usual. And so were you.

You were cracking up at the jokes being told and the stories being re lived. They had been around long enough now for you to even be part of some of their dinnertime stories.

Tony, Bucky, and Steve were genuinely laughing and smiling with each other, and there was a sparkle in each of their eyes that hadn't always been there before.

It almost brought you to tears. You were so happy of how far they'd all come. Even Bruce and Natasha, with a little help from you, had been able to solidify their relationship, and the two seemed happier than ever.

The Avengers were enjoying their lives for the first time since they could remember, and it was all thanks to you. They had been brainstorming ways to show you this appreciation, but simply had not gotten around to it yet.

You felt your heart rate quicken as you were moved with joy at the happiness of your friends- all of them. They continued to laugh and joke, but then that familiar fear settled over you again.

How much longer would you have them for? Steve had promised not to blindside you, and you knew they wouldn't leave without a goodbye, but that didn't stop you from worrying about the when. You tried to push all those thoughts from your mind as you remembered the things that grounded you.

They're here now.

You still have the shield.

They would never leave you without goodbye.

You suddenly felt a warm, flesh hand on your thigh. You looked over at Bucky, who had been adamant about taking a seat next to you tonight. The other Avengers were wrapped up in some story about Thor and his brother, and for a moment, it felt like you were the only two souls in the room.

Bucky was never very forward with his affection for you. He rarely touched you. His fondness for you was evident in his actions, and in his silence.

How he'd watch you in the kitchen, and hand you exactly what you needed next before you even realized what you were looking for.

By sitting on the porch every time you went for a ride, and making sure you were alright each time you returned.

And by silently opening your door each night, and standing in the frame until he could see the steady rise and fall of your chest. He was always so concerned with your well-being.

He was silent, but his silence was so loud with care.

You hadn't even realized you had been anxiously tapping your foot until Bucky's hand stopped you. You looked at him, the rest of the table fading away. He looked as if he wanted to say something with his words- to reassure you- but he stopped himself. He wore an expression you couldn't quite read.

You weren't sure how long the two of you looked at each other, but you were finally broken apart by an intentional cough from Natasha. Conversation at the table resumed, but Bucky's hand never left your thigh.

--

After dinner, you didn't have much to do. The Avengers had all insisted that they clean up since you had made such a large spread. You sat on the couch, waiting for them to retire with you. You had picked out a special movie for tonight that you had found while grocery shopping. It was one of your favorites growing up, and you couldn't wait to introduce them all to it.

Bruce was the first to join you in the living room, and he took his normal spot in the recliner by the bookshelf. Steve slipped in next, smiling at you as he sat next to you on the couch, and wrapped a large arm around your shoulders. Tony was next, and he took the seat on the other side of you, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek before leaning back. Steve's arm tightened involuntarily at this, so slightly that no one else could have seen, but you still noticed it.

Bucky entered and retired to the love seat, his eyes never leaving you. His staring probably would've made anyone else uncomfortable, but it had become such a grounding thing for you. If Bucky wasn't staring, you were nervous.

Natasha entered last, carrying a cup of hot tea.

"I made this for you, Russian specialty. Wanted you to try it." She smiled, but looked nervously to Steve on the couch who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Bruce looked away, Tony bit down hard on his lip, and Bucky curled his hands into fists.

You picked up on these reactions, but had no reservations about taking the tea.

These were the Avengers. Your friends. You trusted them with your life.

The last thing you remember before blacking out was the strong arm around you, the eyes staring at you from the loveseat, and the strong smell of cinnamon with slight hints of gasoline.

----

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series masterlist

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Summary: The final piece- Tony. Things fall into place, the healing is helping, and you're beginning to find yourself in the middle of a different squabble between the three.

A/N: SORRY this took so long to get out, I really kind of hit a block as I was trying to decide exactly how I wanted Tony's part to go, and I hope it hit in every way that I wanted it to. The next few parts will hopefully be out soon, and I would love to start hearing your requests on who you want to end up with, because the slow burn is speeding up and the romance is about to start being a major plot point!! Also, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist and if you like it, PLEASE REBLOG!!!

--

In the days that followed Steve and Bucky's apparent coming to terms with their issues, you found yourself stumped and nervous. You knew the next stop was Tony, and that he held the final piece of the puzzle- except it wasn't about your curiosity anymore. You saw how heartbroken the other two men were, so you could only imagine how shattered Tony must be.

Part of you wanted to call it quits and not push further into this tangled web of pain, lies, and constant aching, but the rest of you- the part that really mattered- wanted nothing more than to help Tony heal in the way the other two had. You knew he deserved this just as much, if not more, than the others involved.

You waited awhile before approaching him, trying to find the best moment to bring it up. The light that was now in Steve and Bucky's eyes made you happy, but you could tell it only frustrated Tony- almost as if he felt like he was being left out of something, or a cruel joke was being played. That is why you knew you needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

As fate would have it, the perfect opportunity arose, almost a week after speaking to Bucky and Steve. Tony had come to you while you were curled up by the fire, re-reading one of your old favorite books. He sat down for a moment and studied you, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes on the page- even though the words could have very well been in french and you wouldn't have noticed.

Tony had a way of looking at you that made you feel like the most important and interesting thing in the world, and this meant a lot for someone with money like Tony's. This man has been on private flights around the globe, dined like royalty, and had some of the most advanced tech in the modern world, and yet the way he looked at you made all that seem like the things of a peasant.

After a moment, when you couldn't keep your eyes away from him any longer, you met his gaze and smiled sheepishly, hoping that a certain shade of red wasn't creeping up your neck.

"Hi Tony."

He smiled at you. He had one of the most sarcastic, snarky smirks on Earth, but when he smiled at you it was all genuine.

"I was wondering if you could help me with something?" He said. Your heart dropped slightly with disappointment, and you weren't sure why.

"Anything." You said, putting your book down.

"My suit, I need to find the remnants of it. I've got to start working on it again."

If you heart had dropped slightly earlier, it had fallen to hell now. Tony's need for his suit was obviously a step in the direction of the Avenger's next move. Towards Hydra. Away from you.

You wanted to sigh and roll your eyes and tell Tony to forget it, to stay, but you knew you couldn't. So instead, you said,

"I can take you out to where the crash was, but I can't guarantee that your suit is any kind of favorable condition. The crash was bad and the weather hasn't been very forgiving."

"That doesn't matter, I just need the skeleton and a few of the internal hard drives. Then I can get myself fixed up with a new one."

You nodded and forced yourself to stand, and slipped on some shoes. You and Tony stepped out into the chilly air, and he immediately shedded his jacket and helped you into it. It smelled like sandalwood with slight hints of cinnamon and gasoline- exactly like him.

You led him out to the field where the crash had occurred. There were still remnants from the ship, and the grass hadn't grown back within a five hundred foot radius.

"I'm pretty sure I found you right over... here." You said, spotting the charred remains of Tony's suit. His helmet was a few yards away. He picked up the helmet and studied it for a moment, before kneeling by his suit.

You watched him intently. Tony had not been in a suit since you pulled him out to safe his life. Really, none of the Avengers had donned their trademark outfits since that first night. You tried to think back to old news cycles of them in their suits. It is what made them so recognizable- as the Avengers. But now, you don't see them that way. You've gotten so used to seeing them behave so domestically and in normal clothes, it would almost be weird to see them in their suits.

You shook those thoughts as Tony tinkered with the metal, and tried to think about how you were going to begin this conversation.

"Tony?"

"Yeah sweetheart?" He responded immediately, yet not looking up from whatever he was working on.

You wrapped his jacket tightly around your body and breathed in his scent, hoping for the words to strike you like lightening. For some reason, it was harder to bring this up to Tony. The whole issue uniquely revolves around him, and you have no idea how to help him without the risk of making him relive an obviously painful moment.

"I care about you Tony."

This caused his movements to stall. Tony, ever the quick witted one, had nothing to say. He had been wanting to hear those words for awhile, but something in his gut told him there was something else attached to your admission, and so he waited in silence.

"They care about you too."

He wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting, but that definitely wasn't it. He had no idea that you had picked up on his little rift between him, Rogers, and Barnes. He cursed himself internally. Of course you would notice- it's not like Tony had been going out of his way to hide his feelings. But he had thought, that since they could all be so peaceful and happy around you, that you hadn't noticed. He was a fool to underestimate you.

"I'm sure they do." He scoffed quietly, yet sarcastically, and pulled a screwdriver out of his back pocket. He began tinkering with the suit.

"They do Tony. But just because they care, or just because they say they're sorry, doesn't mean you aren't allowed to still feel betrayed by them."

"What did they tell you?"His head snapped up, obviously irritated by the fact that Steve and Bucky had gotten to you first.

He felt his chest tighten, and his breathing shallow. He was so happy here, but he knew this would come out eventually. But when it did, he wanted your comforting hand and attentive care. He wanted you to validate his feelings and help him through his grief and betrayal.

But they had gotten to you first.

And now anything he said to you, any feelings he expressed, you would be looking through their lense.

"Tony are you alright?" He rocked backwards slightly, placing the screwdriver on the ground. His hand went up to his chest, and he wouldn't - couldn't look at you.

You dropped to your knees in front of him.

"I- why- those bastards." he seethed between ragged breaths.

"Tony calm down." You placed a hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away. You felt hurt that he would shy from your touch- he had always been the one who enjoyed physical affection and reassurance the most. Your words began tumbling out before you could even think about them.

"They didn't tell me anything! I asked them what was going on, and both of them said it wasn't their story to tell, but that they made horrible mistakes. Steve feels horrible for lying about whatever he lied about and Bucky hates himself for whatever he did, but neither of them would tell me what happened- out of respect for you." You tried to explain, barely taking a breath between sentences.

Whether your words themselves calmed him, or the confusion from the sheer speed at which they exited your mouth, Tony's breath began to even out. His hands were shaky, and you took them into yours. You spoke slower now.

"Tony, I am here for you. Whatever you want to tell me, whatever you need, I want to help. I want to help you put this pain and anguish behind you so you can be your best self, and enjoy your life. I know you care about Steve, and somewhere inside of you, you're slightly fond of Bucky too. Let me help you cope."

He didn't say anything for a very long time. You waited there, holding his hands in yours, until they barely trembled anymore. His breathing was normal, and yet he still sat there.

Tony's mind was a complex and sometimes troublesome place- just like his lab. Just as his lab is littered with several unfinished projects, his mind is plagued with unfinished thoughts- each one shadowed over by the next sentence that comes to mind.

He sat for awhile, holding your hands, and trying to piece together exactly what he wanted to say. A month ago, if he had been asked about this, he would've told you the story in the most heartbreaking way- with heavy emphasis on the wrongdoings of the super soldiers. But now, for some reason, he just wants to tell you how much he wishes he got to tell his parents goodbye. He wants to be honest, but it isn't in his interest to cast blame on his friends anymore. He didn't know why. Maybe it was the peace that he had been feeling throughout his time here. Maybe it was that he has been seeing Bucky like a real person recently. Whatever it was, he knew he only wanted one thing.

Your comfort.

He didn't need you to agree with him. He didn't need you to confirm that what they did to him was wrong. He didn't even need to know what you thought about the situation. He just wanted you to understand his grief over his parents and be there for him.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke up. Your heart began to beat at a rapid pace as he took in a deep breath and words began to form on his lips.

"My dad and I never had the best relationship." He began. He wasn't exactly sure where to start this story, because it began long before the night of their death. "He was always so proud of his great creation. Captain America. I could never live up to the soldier sized footprint he left. No matter how smart I was, no matter how many things I created, it never filled the hole Cap left when he went in the ice."

You listened, waiting for him to continue. It was cold out, and you squeezed his hands, but you didn't offer to go inside. The moment was too fragile- too delicate- one wrong move and Tony might retreat inwards.

"I was 21 when they died."

Pieces began falling into place. Your mind was moving around the final pieces of the puzzle, trying to get them to fit, but the next thing Tony said solidified the entire thing.

"They were killed by a Hydra Agent."

Click.

Bucky.

You stared at Tony, but you felt like you were staring at a complete puzzle- one that was weeks in the making. But instead of the satisfied, complete feeling, you just felt hollow.

Tony had been carrying around this heartbreak for so long. To be so close to the man that had taken your parents from you- whether he knew what he was doing or not- must have been so hard.

Then you felt a wave of respect for Tony. He hadn't known how much you already knew, but he was trying to protect your image of Bucky. He didn't tell you it was him. He didn't tell you that Steve protected him. He just told you his piece- not knowing that you already had all the others.

Your heart felt like it was a million pieces, for all three men. Tony, grieving the loss of his parents and feeling like he was an outsider in his own team. Bucky, reeling with the guilt and shame of a horrible action he had no control over. And Steve, trying desperately to keep the peace but ultimately becoming the catalyst of destruction.

You pulled yourself into Tony and wrapped your arms around his neck. It was cold, but you didn't care. You would stay here and hold him for as long as it took.

"You are completely valid in everything you feel Tony. The grief, the betrayal, the anger- all of it is yours to feel. It's okay."

Something about hearing those words from you gave him permission to fall apart. He buried his face in your neck and you felt the warm moisture of his tears on your skin.

You let him hold you and cry for awhile. You wanted him to forgive the other men, but this was the first moment he had with someone who wasn't criticizing him for his own feelings. He needed to be able to grieve without guilt, and you were finally the one who could give him that.

After awhile, he pulled back and looked at you. You said nothing with your mouth, but everything with your eyes.

I'm here for you. It's okay. You're allowed to feel this. Forgive them.

You hoped he could see the plea in your eyes.

Tony wasn't exactly sure what brought him to his decision. Maybe it was the weeks of peace you'd afforded him. Maybe it was the light he'd seen in the other two men's eyes after they came to terms with the situation. Maybe it was the fact that he was finally able to unapologetically express his feelings without feeling judged.

Tony was ready to forgive. And if he was being honest, he had been ready to forgive for awhile, he just hadn't been able to break the threshold away from his pain. But now he has.

Because of you.

There wasn't a word spoken between the two of you, but Tony gave the slightest nod of his head. In that moment you knew, the three men would be okay.

You couldn't contain the vibrant smile on your face as you threw yourself into Tony's lap, wrapping your arms tightly around him, almost knocking him backwards at the sheer force of your movements.

He hesitated for just a moment before wrapping you up tightly, and you could feel the tickle of his facial hair against your neck as his own lips curved up into a smile.

This embrace was filled with joy and much needed relief.

The two of you were blissfully unaware of the metal hand that curled around the fencepost of the porch as it's owner watched the interaction.

-

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series masterlist

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You entered the barn slowly with the water in your hand. Bucky was in the same spot you had left him earlier- now shirtless- and somehow going harder at the punching bag. You were almost positive he hadn't even afforded himself a second to catch his breath.

You allowed yourself to watch him for a moment before finally coughing and making your presence known.

He looked at you around the bag, and only when his eyes met yours did he cease his efforts.

"I'm surprised you haven't punched straight through that one." You half joked. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and mumbled "Tony can afford a new one."

You picked up on the emotion in his voice. You weren't quite sure what it was, but this only confirmed more of your suspicions.

"I brought you water. I figured you could use something since you decided to skip out on breakfast."

He looked to you, then the glass in your hand, and took it. He said "Thank You" with more genuine gratitude than you had ever heard from someone- almost like he wasn't used to people caring about if he had enough water, or needed something to eat.

You paused for a moment, watching him gulp down the entire glass. He wiped his mouth on the bottom of his T-shirt, and you caught sight of his lower stomach-completely healed from the bruising of the crash weeks ago. You tore your eyes away and began what you had come out here to do. You sat down on a hay bale, and he followed suit.

"Well," you started, "Speaking of Tony."

As soon as the name left your mouth, Bucky's eyes met the floor. It was like he couldn't even look at you when you brought him up. You could tell it wasn't out of anger- it was out of shame.

"What about him?" Bucky finally said, extremely softly, almost as if he was scared you'd run if he spoke too loud. His eyes were still glued to the floor.

"I just wanted to talk to you. I've noticed a tension between you two and Steve, and I'm worried about you."

"I'm not the one you need to be checking on." He said, somehow even softer than before.

You decided not to mention that you had already spoken to Steve. It wasn't like he really even gave you any details. You wanted to hear what was bothering Bucky- and you wanted to help him.

"I wanted to check on you." You said gently, but firmly. You wanted him to know you were here for support of him- not on anyone else's behalf.

"Well you shouldn't." He said, his voice stronger this time- not with anger, just more seriousness. "You should go to Steve. Or Tony." His voice shook as he said the second name, only slightly.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that the issue- whatever happened- happened between Tony and Bucky, and Steve had just been in the middle of it.

"I'm not here for them right now, I'm here for you."

Bucky still would not meet your eyes. You wanted to grab him by the chin and make him look at you. You wanted to show him that he didn't have to feel this shame that he let control him.

"Bucky."

God- the way you said his name- it pulled at something in his chest. He had to look at you then. And when he did, it broke your heart.

Pain was so unmistakably written across his face. It almost brought you to tears. He still said nothing, but his bottom lip trembled slightly. It was so subtle, you wouldn't have noticed it if you hadn't been studying him so deeply.

"You don't have to hide anything from me. If you don't want to tell me because its none of my business, that's okay, but don't think for a second you can't tell me because you think I'll judge you."

That hit something in him- you could see it in his eyes. He was slowly taking down his walls.

"I just-" he began, gripping his his metal arm with his flesh one so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I don't want you to hate me- like he does."

You wanted to cry. "I would never hate you." You paused for a moment and followed with "And I'm sure Tony doesn't either."

"He does." Bucky stated, then his voice began to tremble. "He does. And he has every right to- It's all my fault. It's always my fault."

His voice was shaking, and so was his body. Every sign of his physique indicating a coming panic attack.

You moved from your hay bale to the ground in front of him. You looked at him, and slowly raised your hand- giving him plenty of time to see it before you placed it on his knee. You didn't want to startle him, and wanted to give him the choice to pull away if he did not want you touch him. He didn't pull away.

The moment your hand hit his knee, his body stilled. He looked down at you, shame clouding his eyes.

"Just tell me what happened Bucky. I don't care about the person you were- I know the person you are now. And that person couldn't tell me anything that happened in the past that would change how I feel about him in the present."

He was silent for a long time. Minutes, maybe hours could have passed before he would say anything, but you would stay right there. You would wait until he was ready- and that is when he finally realized he could tell you this. He had no idea how you would react, and the majority of him still expected you to hate him afterward, but was finally ready to get this off his chest. To be completely honest with you- as much as he could while remaining respectful of the others involved.

"What do you already know about me?" He asked, searching your eyes for any sense of preconceived notions. Bucky wasn't sure how much the world knew about his past as the Winter Soldier. He had no idea what you had read online or heard on the news.

"I know that you are kind. You are quiet. You enjoy the silent moments. I know that you don't like sugar in your coffee, and you are protective of the people you care about. And you care about the other Avengers- especially Tony."

"I care about you too." He said softly. You looked at each other in silence for a moment before he spoke again. "But that isn't what I was asking. What do you know about my past? What has the media fed you about me?"

You removed your hand from his knee and shifted from a crouching position to sitting criss cross on the ground- Bucky still looking down at you.

"Honestly," you sighed, "Not much. I don't really pay much attention to the news. All those old tabloids Natasha is always reading were my sisters. But when I first saw you- when I was trying to get that piece of metal off you in the field- I recognized you from the major media coverage after the United Nations bombing. I knew they had said that you did it."

"I was framed." He said quickly, trying to defend himself to you.

"I didn't care about it at all. I still took you in, treated you, cooked for you, and wanted you in my home. It never once made me think of you in a certain way. The only opinions I had formed of you were made after I spent weeks around you."

He let that sink in for a moment, then spoke again. "So that's really all you knew of me before?"

You nodded.

Then he began to tell you about Hydra. How they experimented on him and gave him their own version of Steve's super soldier serum. He told you about the code words and how they were able to control him. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he decided to keep the details of the torture to himself- but it didn't matter. You could read between the lines, and part of him knew that.

You sat patiently, listening to every detail. You tried to control your facial expressions, not wanting him to read anything wrong. Once he finished, he still hadn't told you the cause of the tension between him and Tony, but the pieces were beginning to fit together.

"Whatever happened, whatever they made you do, it was not your fault." You said, slowly returning your hand to his knee. He didn't shy away this time either. In fact, he leaned closer to you.

"I can't tell you everything. It's not only my story. Tony may want to keep those details to himself. But like I said- he has every right to hate me."

You were torn. One one hand, you knew that Tony was an intelligent man. He would know that Bucky didn't have control of his own actions. So for Tony to feel so deeply hurt, whatever happened must have been very serious. So serious that it would be hard for Tony to be around Bucky- creating this tension.

On the other hand, you knew Bucky would have never done something to hurt someone else- not in his right mind.

"I'm sure Tony was hurt by whatever it was, and he did- does have a right to his emotions. You can't force him to forgive you, but you can forgive yourself." You reasoned with him.

"I can't forgive myself, y/n. It was so horrible."

"Whatever you did, would you have done it on your own? Apart from the mind control?"

"What? No, of course not. I would never do something like that."

"Exactly." you stated, matter of factly.

Bucky stared at you, realizing what you had just done. You had just gotten him to admit that what happened wasn't him. Even Steve had never been able to do that.

"I would never do something like that." He repeated softly to himself, almost as if the words felt foreign to him.

"Bucky, you've spent so long thinking that was you. But it wasn't. The real Bucky would never do something like that- you just said it yourself. You just need to believe it."

"It's so hard to not feel guilty about it. My hands- these hands did that horrible thing. They've done so many horrible things. How can that be anyone's fault but my own?" He said, turning his palms over in front of you.

You placed your hands in his.

"Your body wasn't your own. It might as well have been Hydra's hands. They did it. They're responsible. Not you." You squeezed his hands tightly. You removed one of your hands and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. "This is you Bucky. You didn't do it. You never would have done that. You need to separate the machine that Hydra used from the real Bucky. The Bucky that is in here."

He stared at you, eyes glistening with the promise of tears.

"Forgive your hands. They're clean now. Your heart has always been pure."

As those words fell from your mouth, Bucky felt himself believing them. For the first time since the 40s, he felt like a real person again. He was finally able to separate himself from the things Hydra had made him do- and it was because of you.

He fell off the hay bale and to his knees, wanting to be on your level. He wanted to show you how much he appreciated your words, but he couldn't make any of his own. He couldn't speak. He just slowly wrapped you in his arms, giving you the same opportunity to refuse his touch like you had done for him earlier. And just like he had, you leaned into the embrace. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, trying to pour every ounce of compassion you could into him. He had been starved of it for so long, and wanted to hold you forever.

You don't know how long you stayed like that, but you knew you wouldn't let go first. You would give Bucky every second he needed, and let him decide when he was ready.

As the two of you sat there, wrapped up in each other on the barn floor, neither of you noticed the other super soldier standing in the doorway.

He watched the two of you embrace one another. Part of him was happy that his best friend was finally healing, even if he hadn't been the one to bring it to him. But the rest of him- the majority of him- couldn't ignore the growing pit in his stomach as he watched Bucky hold you in every way the he desired to.

---

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series masterlist

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Summary: You're learning things, slowly. The Avengers continue to let you in- you have a moment with someone, Steve makes you a promise.

A/n: Things are heating up, this chapter mainly focuses on one character but the following will focus on some others- don't worry reader isn't making a choice yet. But be sure to let me know who you want her to choose in the end! Also, lmk if you want to be added to taglist. Also, I take requests. I love when somoene gives me a good idea to write about. It doesn't have to be with this series, can be a stand alone one shot. I'll write for a lot of characters, so just shoot your shot.

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They all knew something was up. The way you were reserved at dinner had them all suspicious. They knew it was stupid of them to think that they could have had a meeting and you be none the wiser. They didn't like excluding you, but they were trying so hard to protect you- not just from hydra, but from themselves. They all had baggage, Steve, Tony and Bucky specifically, and involving you in it would just complicate matters. They wanted you to stay exactly the way you were, but they were naive to think that they could always keep you in the dark- especially when they were letting themselves grow so close to you. So dependent on you. It scared them.

When you had darted out of the kitchen and up the stairs, without even stopping to speak, their suspicions were confirmed. You were upset, and they were all beating themselves up over it. Bucky especially.

"Hey y/n, come sit!" Tony had turned and smiled at you. You paused on the stairs for a moment, mumbling an excuse about being too tired, and continued to your room.

They looked around at each other. Bruce coughed awkwardly, Tony dropped the remote on the coffee table with obvious frustration, Steve clasped his hands in his lap with a sigh, and Bucky stared to the ground, unable to meet anyone's eyes.

Natasha walked into the living room after that, and they all stared at her expectantly.

She contemplated feigning ignorance to them, but decided against it. Natasha Romanoff was many things- a liar was not one of them.

"She's not sad because she felt excluded, she's upset because she knows there tension between us, and she's worried we're gonna leave one day without saying anything to her." She explained, none of them even having to ask her.

"Did she tell you all that?" Steve looked to her, his eyes filled with concern.

"No." Natasha replied, plopping down on the seat across the couch from Tony. "She didn't have to."

The boys would forever envy Natasha's ability to read you. Sure, Bucky was trained as an assassin with a similar skill set to hers, but even he couldn't read you in the effortless way Natasha did. Tony and Steve tried often as well, and even succeeded on some accounts, but no one could come close to the way Natasha could.

Tony sighed, and looked around at each of them.

"What do we do guys? Really, we can't stay here forever, but I'd wager none of you are particularly excited to leave either."

Tony was only offered silence in return, but the looks on each of their faces gave him every answer he needed.

"It's time we start planning our counter attack on Hydra. We need to start training routines again." Steve finally said, reluctantly.

"Tony, that wifi connection you built, it's secure?" Bruce spoke up.

"The most secure one I've ever built." Tony replied. "Even better than the tower's."

"Then you need to get to work on figuring out what Hydra's got up their sleeve." Natasha stated.

They fell silent again, knowing what this work implied.

They were getting ready to leave, and go back to being the Avengers. But they would never be the same soldiers they were before- you'd changed them, and they knew it.

"I'll go talk to her. We've still got awhile to be here while we get ready, but we should be honest." Steve said, standing up.

"I'll come too." Bucky said his first words since the conversation began.

Steve started towards the stairs but turned to him and said, "No, I think I'll do this alone."

As he began the walk to your room, a slight blanket of tension fell back over the remaining Avengers.

--

You were sitting on your bed, picking at the old embroidery of your mother's on your quilt.

"I wish you were here, mom. You'd love them, and you'd be so proud of me. I'm doing everything you taught me." You thought to yourself. Your mother had always taught you to be kind, especially to those that needed it most, and you knew she would approve of everything you've done to help the Avengers.

Then the knock came.

It startled you out of your thoughts, but you quickly recovered.

"Nat?" you called out, assuming she was here after your conversation in the kitchen earlier.

"No, Steve."

"Oh, come in." You said, sitting up a little straighter.

"Hey," He said softly, and closed the door behind him. He looked around the room for a moment. None of the Avengers had really ever been in here. Then he sat on the edge of the bed.

"You alright?" was all he said. You nodded, but it was clear he didn't believe you.

"Listen, y/n, I'm sorry you had to find us like that. I know how it looked and you need to know we never intended to make you feel-"

"Steve, no" you cut him off with a smile, "I'm okay, really. I was just worried, that's all."

"Worried about what?" He asked, already knowing the answer. You were silent. You didn't know how to say that you lived in fear that you were going to wake up and find them gone without a trace- nor did you want to. Steve answered his own question for you.

"Worried we were gone?"

Your eyes fell to your lap, ashamed. It was stupid to be feeling this way. You weren't a little kid, you were a grown adult. It was embarrassing to admit. But for some reason, Steve made you feel validated. Even in his silence. So you nodded.

"I understand." He said, running a hand through his hair. You looked to him, and almost smiled. Steve, who was usually always so put together- perfect hair, clothes fitted just right, impeccable posture- was looking at you with tousled hair and slouched shoulders. And for the first time, you didn't feel alone in your feelings. This wasn't easy for him either, and in some twisted way, that made you feel better.

"It's just.." You began, searching for the right words, "This place used to be so alive- almost magical. It was always my favorite place to be. And then when my parents died and all my siblings left, I never felt more alone. I had been alone for a long time when you guys landed in my life, and with you here, I feel magic again. It's alive again. And I know you guys are going to leave eventually, and I'm just not ready for it go back to how it was."

Steve looked at you with an emotion you couldn't quite place. His heart was throbbing, and all he wanted to do was wrap you up into his arms and tell you that they'd stay- forever.

But he couldn't. Their lives weren't their own, and their duty to the world would always have to come first. It was their biggest blessing and their biggest curse.

So instead, Steve opted to place his large, warm hand on your knee. It was a respectful position, but he hoped to convey his feelings through it.

"We feel the magic too, y/n. And if it were up to us, we'd probably never leave." He forced a small laugh. "But we have responsibilities. I can't say for certain when they'll pull us away, but they will. They always do."

His comforting hand suddenly felt cold. You understood, but that didn't make it any easier.

"There is so much I don't know- and I get it, you guys can't tell me most things, and I don't expect you to. You've dealt with threats I could never imagine. It's just hard for me, not knowing what's going on. And not knowing when you'll leave." You sighed.

"I can't give you a definitive answer. I wish I could." He said, frustration edging into his tone. "But I can be honest with you. As honest as I can while still keeping you safe."

The Avengers had agreed early on that keeping you in the dark about Hydra's threat was the best idea, and it still is. But you deserved to know as much as he could tell you.

"Up until now, we've not made any plans. We've just been laying low, like we said. But it is time that we start preparing for our next move. I don't know how long it'll take, or what exactly our move even is yet, but I can promise you this y/n. We will not blindside you. We will keep you in the loop as much as we can as long as it's safe. And we won't leave you without a proper goodbye."

You smiled at him, wishing it was enough to satisfy you. But the only thing that could satisfy you was if he promised you right now that they would never leave.

But you knew that was a promise you would never get.

Steve looked at you for a moment more, then stood abruptly, walking out without a word. You were too shocked at his movements to say anything. You stared at the door of your room, emotions reeling.

But before you could even properly dissect what had just happened, he returned- his shield in hand.

"Steve, what are you-"

He turned his back to you and set the shield on your dresser, the star facing the foot of your bed, radiating protection and promises.

"As long as this is here, you'll know we still are."

You said nothing, but stared at him, tears brimming your eyes.

You may not be able to hold onto them forever, but this gave you a renewed sense of hope. You stood and crossed over to him quickly, throwing your arms around his neck.

"Thank you Steve." You said, your face pressed into his shoulder.

He hesitated for just a moment, then wrapped his large, strong arms around your frame. He said nothing, but just held you for awhile.

After a moment, you pulled your face back and looked at him. Arms still wrapped around each other, he looked back into your eyes.

You were afraid to move- not even completely sure if this moment was real. Steve was breathing heavily, and you were positive he could feel your erratic heartbeat.

"Rogers!"

You sprung apart, the moment shattering. You looked down at the ground as Steve stuffed his hands in his pockets, sighing with frustration.

"You might wanna come have a look at this." Tony said, standing in the doorway that Steve had left ajar, with an unreadable expression.

Steve said nothing as stepped put, brushing past Tony, who still looked at you standing there.

It was hard to meet his eyes, but when you did, you instantly regretted it. You couldn't tell what emotions he was feeling, but eyes told you that he was feeling them- strongly.

And for some reason, you felt guilty. The moment you had just enjoyed with Steve suddenly felt like a betrayal, and you didn't like it. At all.

---

You awoke the next morning, and several days after that, eyes immediately searching for the shield. Relief always flooded you as the sunrise glinted off the white star, and it became your favorite sight.

All the tension from the other night had seemed to disappear- just like always.

You had gone to town a few days ago and picked up several pieces of training equipment- at the Avengers request. They had been honest with you and told you they were gearing up for their next move, even though you had no idea what it was.

You had also amended your grocery lists in order to accommodate healthier meals- also at their request.

"We have to start fueling our bodies better." Steve said, taking a bite out of a sugary, homemade pancake that he had covered in strawberries and whipped cream. Natasha snorted at him. "Soon!" he added, a strawberry falling from his mouth.

You had begun to cook healthier, but Tony had warned you that it still better taste as good as what you've been cooking them.

"Didn't I catch you in the bathroom the other day complaining about how much weight you've gained since you've been here?" Bruce chuckled. Bruce was rarely one to engage in sarcastic comments or childish banter, but when he did strike, he never missed.

"I think your cooking is always good. Healthy or unhealthy." Bucky had said quietly to you, smiling. The other Avengers didn't pick up on it, but that was just how Bucky liked it. Your bond with him was just a strong as the others, it was just simply quieter.

You were finishing up your attempt at a healthier breakfast, and set out the sugar-free syrup on the table. It was hard to make the Avengers stick to their new diet, especially after they had grown accustomed to you tasty- yet less healthy- meals.

You had caught Steve rummaging through the fridge late one night, a can of whipped cream in his hand. You coughed, making you presence known, and he turned to look at you like a sticky, guilty little kid.

"Hypocrite." You laughed, taking the can from him and dropping it in the trash. You returned to bed before he could even attempt to defend himself.

Once the table was properly set, you stepped outside to let them know that breakfast was ready. You passed Bruce, who was reading by the bookshelf again. He had explained to you awhile ago that he didn't need to follow such a rigorous training routine because it didn't matter what he looked like- the other guy would always come out huge, strong, and green. You had to hand it to him though, he had stuck to the diet.

"We're a team." He had said. "I'll cut out sugar in solidarity."

You entered the barn, where they had set up their makeshift training room.

Bucky was intensely focused on the punching bag he had hung up. You watched as he struck- strong and calculated. You studied the way that he pressed his lips into a firm line, and never took his eyes off the target.

You moved your gaze to Tony, who was not far from him. He was lifting two exceptionally large dumbbells. For a man who fought mainly in a suit of armor, he was ripped. You watched as his arms flexed, the veins in them prominent enough to see from several feet away.

Your gaze flickered between the two of them, never quite able to settle on one.

"Like what you see?" Tony had finally spoke up, with a smirk on his face. This caused Bucky to cease his motions, and look to you as well.

You quickly recovered, and didn't even acknowledge his statement. "Breakfast is ready." You smiled sweetly as Tony approached you, tossing a towel over his shoulders.

"Where are the others?" You asked.

"Running." Bucky had spoke up. Tony spared him a quick glance and then tossed the towel into your face with a laugh before returning to his weights.

"We'll be in a little while." He said.

You hung the towel on a post, and exited the barn with a smile. It was nice to see Bucky and Tony peacefully coexisting alone. You had noticed that this was something they never really did- in fact they usually avoided being alone together at all costs. You didn't know why, but you were happy to see that they were growing.

That they were healing.

As you stepped outside, Natasha and Steve rounded the corner of the house, their jog in perfect sync. They halted as you approached them.

"Breakfast is ready." You repeated to them.

"Great. Thanks y/n." Steve smiled at you. He stepped away from Natasha who put an earbud back into her ear and said "I'm gonna get in a few more laps." Then she took off.

Steve followed you inside, wiping sweat from his brow.

You entered the kitchen, and he began to wash up. The two of you hadn't talked about the moment in the bedroom last week, but you didn't feel like you needed to. Your emotions had been high, and now you were back on solid ground.

Your curiosity, however, was higher than ever.

You sat at the barstool across the island, and watched Steve dry his hands. You don't what possessed you to say what you said next, but you didn't regret it. You wanted to know.

"Bucky and Tony were working out together in the barn. Alone." You said, nonchalantly tracing the lines in the wood island. You studied Steve's reaction. He didn't look at you, and didn't offer up a response. You decided to push- just a little.

"That's pretty unusual." You stared at him.

"Hm, is it?" Steve said, trying to play ignorant.

"You're a horrible liar, Rogers." You smirked.

He put the hand towel back onto the oven handle and muttered "Apparently I'm great at it."

This confused you. He was obviously alluding to something.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked, pushing further.

"Nothing." He said, turning to face you, but still not meeting your eyes.

"Steve." You said, gently but firmly. His blues eyes finally met your own, and you could see guilt evident in them.

"When I walked into that meeting in the barn, there was a lot of tension. Between you, Tony, and Bucky specifically. Natasha said it wasn't because of the mission, but that it wasn't her story to tell."

"Natasha should've kept her mouth shut." The harshness in his tone startled you, and he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"I'm sorry, y/n. It's a very delicate situation."

"Well tell me, Steve. Maybe I can help."

"You've already helped, more than you know. The fact that those two were alone together without going at each other's throats is proof of that." Steve explained, leaning against the counter.

"But what is the issue? What's going on with the three of you?"

"Natasha was right, It wasn't her story to tell, but it's not really mine either."

You didn't know what to say. You wanted to know, but didn't want to put salt in an obviously painful wound.

Steve stared at the ground again, contemplating what to say to you. You waited, giving him time to decide what to say- if anything at all.

"I guess, my part in it is the worst. Something happened- something horrible and unfair and extremely complicated. I had to lie to one of them to protect both of them, and that lie hurt us all."

You thought about the right words to say, and opted just be completely truthful.

"Steve, I don't think you would have lied if you hadn't thought it was the best thing for both of them. You were just trying to do what you do best- protect the people you love. While the lie may have hurt, you have to forgive yourself and know that you did what you thought was right."

He looked at you for a long time after that, really absorbing what you had said. This had been such a hard situation, and he was carrying all the guilt and blame on his shoulders, and only now, as he heard the words from your mouth, was he able to put that burden down.

He still didn't say anything, but he walked around the island and pulled you up from the seat and into his arms. He held you for a short moment, trying to show his thankfulness through his actions since words were failing him. He placed a quick, soft kiss on the top of your head and finally said, "I'm gonna go get the others. It's time to eat."

He cast you one more genuine smile before walking out of the room.

--

Breakfast was enjoyable, even though each of them (apart from Bruce) made sure you knew that they preferred the regular syrup over the sugar-free alternative.

"You were the ones who told me I had to make you stick to the diet, no matter how much you all complained about it." You laughed, taking a sip from your coffee.

"Only because we didn't think you'd actually do it." Tony grimaced, taking a bite. Then he added "but your cooking- still superb. Even though you took out all the good stuff."

As you sat around the table and listened to their same stories for probably the hundredth time, you couldn't help but feel the hole Bucky left at the table. Finally, you'd had enough and spoke up.

"Where's Barnes?"

Steve looked to Tony, who simply said "Still training. Said he didn't feel like eating."

The light hearted conversation resumed until you stood from the table. You filled a glass with ice cold water and started for the door.

"I'm going to check on him."

You left the rest of the Avengers to their meal, but not without noticing how Tony seemed slightly uncomfortable.

You had taken what you had learned from Natasha and Steve, what you had observed on your own, and began piecing things together in your mind.

You were going to make sure the Avengers left here with this issue resolved, and something inside you just knew that next piece of the puzzle would be Bucky.

----

series masterlist

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Summary: It's been awhile since the Avengers decided to stay, and you're forming bonds with each of them, but you accidentally walk in on something, and now theres a tension you cant quite shake.

A/N: Really enjoying writing this. This chapter alludes to things that you will see come full circle in later chapters, so pay attention. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

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In the days that followed the Avenger's decision to stay, you found yourself growing increasingly more- well, content.

Life before this wasn't all bad. You loved your farm. Your job, while demanding, was enjoyable. Your calling was to help people, and you enjoyed that in the ER.

But it was nothing compared to this.

Having the Avengers around, taking care of them, cooking for them, and just being someone they could lean on- it made you happier than anything else in the world.

And you yet you hated it.

You knew this was temporary, and that you would have to go back to your normal life after they left. And after tasting this, you knew it would never compare.

But instead of living in constant dread of the day they left, you decided to enjoy the time you were given.

Because of their need to lay low, which they still hadn't completely explained to you, the Avengers were not able to go town for things they needed, so you made the shopping trips- at Tony's expense.

He had been adamant that if you would not accept a payment for their stay, that he would cover all their needs, and anything you wanted. He'd given you his sleek, black, expensive credit card to use for trips to town, and after a few trips, it found it's new home in your wallet.

"You just keep it. I'm not using it anyways, and there is no point in you finding me to ask for it every time you go grocery shopping." He had said one day, barely glancing your way as he placed the heavy, cold card in your hands.

You were returning from a trip. The Avengers usually sent you with a list of anything they needed, and you always had a grocery list of your own, which only seemed to expand as you continued to cook for your guests. You had tried to bring home take out once- it was a disaster. You were missing at least one person's food, and the plates that made it home were usually done incorrectly. The sheer amount that they ate made it hard to even do pizza. So, you opted for cooking the majority of the meals.

"We prefer your cooking anyways." Steve had said, tossing a plate of undercooked noodles into the trash.

"Yes, y/n, you've ruined all restaurant food for the rest of my life." Tony echoed, grimacing at a burnt egg roll.

You parked your car close to the porch, and opened the trunk full of groceries. This had been a particularly expensive trip, as Tony had demanded a wardrobe change. They had grown weary of wearing the second hand clothes from your father, and Natasha simply did not share your style of clothes. They had sent you with specific instructions, and few long receipts later, they had clothes that they were more comfortable in.

You did not even have the chance to grab a bag before the two super soldiers flanked you, grabbing almost everything. Bruce came in behind them and grabbed what was left, leaving you with only your keys and thick stack of receipts in your hand.

You followed them inside, and was met with Tony, who had now retired from the crutches and barely walked with a limp anymore. Barely. His limp seemed to be more exaggerated in the evenings, when you all sat around the fire and watched movies on the TV and DVD Player that Tony insisted you buy with his card.

"Y/n, can you sit over here. My wound is starting to hurt again, you may need to take a look at it."

"You're full of it, Stark." You'd laugh, but always made your way to him. He'd cheekily drape an arm around you, and stare at the TV with a smug expression, ignoring the daggers that Bucky and Steve would stare at him.

Before you began putting away groceries, you handed the receipts to Tony. You always did, as a show of good faith, and every time, he tossed them into the trash without a second glance.

Natasha entered and helped you and Bruce put away groceries. Her arm was completely healed now, and she always made a point to help you whenever she could. She stuck to your side, especially when the guys, except for Bruce, were butting heads. It was usually all in good fun, but you could tell that there were faint remnants of animosity between Tony, Bucky, and Steve. You hadn't said anything about it to anyone, but the more time you spent around them, the more curious you grew.

The three of them were going through their new clothes as you, Bruce, and Natasha finished cleaning up. One thing you enjoyed most about the Avengers being around, was the quiet understanding that you, Natasha, and Bruce had grown. They seemed to understand and care for each other deeply, even though they had never spoke it out loud, and you fit into that dynamic easily. They could each pick up on your non verbal cues easier than the others, and always had a way of making things better.

The two of them shared a bond that you had noticed, but were not privy to. You noticed how they gravitated towards each other, even in silence. This didn't bother you or make you feel excluded- you simply knew they needed each other in a way that was different than with the others. You never commented on it, but you had your theories. If they wanted to open up to you about it, they would, and you were perfectly fine with that.

The other three Avengers, had also formed a bond with you, but in three different, distinct ways. Tony simply always wanted you near, and showed his appreciation of you through light banter and constant conversation, but he was serious when it counted. One day, he'd slipped the watch you always wore off your wrist, and when you asked why, he simply said "Needs upgrading." He returned it to you the next morning. There wasn't anything new looking about it, except for that it was slightly cleaner. The face on the inside appeared loose, something that hadn't been there before. Almost as if it was taken apart and put back together. You'd given him a suspicious look, and he just smiled and said "nothing but the best for the best."

Bucky was more silent. He conversed the least out of any of the Avengers, but his appreciation was shown in his gentle protectiveness. You'd catch him silently watching you. When you left the property, he'd ask you specific questions, want to know exactly where you were going and when you'd be back. One afternoon, you made the mistake of coming back almost two hours later than you said you would, and you came home to Steve trying to calm him down on the porch- in the exact spot you left him in. He'd ushered Bucky inside before you walked up, but you'd caught the tail end of Steve saying "She's safe, okay?"

Steve was also a watcher, but he wasn't as oppressive about it as Bucky was. If you were in the kitchen, cooking alone, he'd wander in, and sit at the table. He always wanted to help and to make things easier on you any way he could. After watching you for awhile, he'd picked up on your routine, and found little ways he could contribute. He noticed that you always woke up at a certain time, and would make a cup of coffee and sit on the porch with your favorite blanket- the blue knit one that stayed draped across the back of the couch. After a week of them staying, you'd wake up to a hot cup of coffee already made, and your blanket sitting close enough to the fire to make it warm with a small note on top that read "-Steve"

So yes, you did a lot for the Avengers, but they did a lot for you in return. Not that it would have mattered, their presence was enough to make it all worth it for you.

After the kitchen was cleaned and ready to prepare dinner, the Avengers slipped away to put away their new clothes. You were chopping onions, your eyes burning, when you realized they had been gone for awhile- too long, and the house was far too quiet.

There was usually always a noise of something. Bruce and Natasha watching something on the television, Tony obnoxiously playing AC/DC from his phone while tinkering with some device he'd found laying around, or Bucky and Steve laughing about the same stories they'd told a hundred times.

The biggest indicator that something was up is that Steve wasn't right under you, trying to find a way to help, or that Bucky wasn't awkwardly standing across the room, watching your every move.

You placed the knife on the cutting board and washed your hands.

"Tony?" You called out. No answer.

You stepped into the living room. "Bruce? Nat?" Nothing.

You stepped up a few stairs and called out for Bucky or Steve. No reply, again. You were slightly nervous. This was unlike them.

You walked outside onto the porch, hoping to see Steve sitting on the swing, or Natasha round the corner of the house from a run. Not a soul was out there.

Your simple nervousness increased to panic.

Had they left without telling you? Why would they do that?

Your breathing shallowed as you started towards the barn. At first you were walking, but then you turned to a slight jog before slamming yourself through the door.

You let out a huge sigh of relief, and you hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath.

The Avengers sat around on hay bales in the barn. They all looked to you, concern evident in their eyes.

"Y/n, you okay?" Tony asked, immediately getting up and walking over to you.

"I- uh-.." You didn't know what to say. You didn't know how tell them that you had been so terrified that they left. It sounded pathetic, and you didn't want to seem weak to them.

You cleared your throat, and tried to keep your voice from shaking as you said "I just was wondering where you guys were. You kind of disappeared on me." You let out a stiff, unconvincing laugh.

Bruce coughed awkwardly and stood up. "I was just headed back inside." He said, looking quickly to Nat before walking through the doors. Natasha followed, and gave you a warm smile and a pat on the arm before catching up with him.

Bucky wouldn't look at you, his head facing the ground in almost shameful way. Steve finally stood and spoke.

"We were just talking about some team stuff. Didn't wanna bore you with the details." He said, staring at Tony's arm on your shoulder. Steve was a horrible liar, and you had picked up on this the first day he was there. You didn't press him though. You never did.

"Buck?" He turned his head. "Why don't we go inside and see if y/n needs any help with dinner." Steve brushed past Tony with a slight aggressive bump on his shoulder.

Bucky followed, his eyes flickering from you to the floor his whole way out. You felt Tony physically tense as Bucky walked by.

"Tony, what's going on?" You asked.

"Don't worry about it sweetheart." He said, placing a quick kiss on the top of your head and grabbing your hand, leading you back inside.

--

All the tension between the Avengers seemed to be completely gone at dinner. They were laughing, eating, and offering up compliments to you after every bite. It was normal.

But you couldn't quite seem to focus. Every time you met one of their eyes, you were reminded of their secret meeting in the barn. It wasn't that you were jealous or felt excluded. They had responsibilities and knowledge of the world that you would never understand- of course they would need to talk about some classified things. What you couldn't shake was the obvious tension, especially between Tony, Bucky, and Steve.

Every time you looked at them, you were reminded that they were this team that would be together forever, and you were just a temporary stop for them.

They noticed your countenance at dinner. They looked around to one another, and on that wavelength they were all connected by, seemingly decided it was best not to comment on it. Not yet.

You began cleaning up as some went to shower, others retired to the living room, and Natasha stayed behind to help clean up. You were standing next to her, washing the dishes, while she dried and put away. You worked in silence for a long time, but it only allowed your mind to brew with questions until they finally boiled over.

"What were you guys doing in the barn?" You finally asked.

She paused her motions for a moment, then resumed them, and began to speak.

"There is a lot that we're trying to work through right now. Security and threat wise, on the global scale, we're trying to figure out what the best move is to keep the world safe."

"I still don't understand how you're protecting the world by hiding out here though."

"Well," she sighed. Natasha was always honest. She wouldn't make up lies. If she couldn't tell you something, she'd simply say that. "I can't tell you everything, but because of the circumstances, the best way to protect everyone is by not being in the limelight. The threat we're up against now isn't a threat to the world. It's only a threat to us. That's really all I can say."

You let her words sink in for a moment. You respected her, deeply. And she cared for you, you knew she did. She smiled at you, and began to speak again.

"You're special, y/n. And I'm so glad we crash landed into your life."

You smiled at her, pulled your hands from the soapy water, and wrapped your arms around her. She hesitated for a moment, and then hugged you back- tightly. When you pulled away, your eyes fell to the water again. You bit your lip, trying to fight another question off the tip of your tongue.

"What is it?" She smirked knowingly.

"It's nothing."

"Liar." She set a fork down.

"Well, I don't want to press you with questions you can't answer." You reasoned.

"Just ask. If I can't tell you, I'll tell you just that."

You sighed, letting your curiosity best you.

"When I was in the barn earlier, after you walked out, there was a lot of tension with Tony, Bucky and Steve. Tension I've never seen before. It was almost scary."

Natasha's body tensed.

"If it's more mission details, you don't have to-"

"It's not mission stuff." She said quickly. "It's.. personal. Something they're trying to work through and have been for awhile. It usually disappears when they're all around you, so that's why it's new to you. But it's not new at all. You just happened to walk in right as they were arguing about it. Again." There was hint of annoyance in her voice, but her care for three men was evident in her tone.

"What is it then, Nat?" You asked, voice low.

"It's not my story to tell. It's not even really their to tell- individually at least. It's so complicated. All three of them are in the wrong, but all three of them are also right on some points. It's just a hard situation for each of them." She looked to you. "You're healing them, you know. In your kindness to them. They all need it. I see it in the way they can be like a family again here, when you're around. Just keep doing what you're doing. They may never open up about it, but they might come to terms with it."

You looked away, not quite understanding how that made you feel. You felt like a little kid as you asked your next question, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Nat," you began, still not meeting her eyes. "How much longer will I have you guys?"

"You'll always have us." She said simply. Then sighed. "But I don't know how much longer we're staying here."

Your heart sank, but instead of speaking, you just continued washing dishes, then excused yourself upstairs, not even stopping when they asked you to sit for a movie.

---

series masterlist

-

Summary: The Avengers are still here, healing, and acting like they belonged. They finally tell you they want to stay, of course you say its fine, but you know you have to protect you heart.

A/N: I am so enjoying writing this. Things are growing, THEY ARE SO DOMESTIC AND BEAUTIFUL BUT ALSO IN PAIN AND YOU"RE THE ONLY ONE THAT WILL BE ABLE TO SAVE THEM FROM THEMSELVES. anyways. enjoy.

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

-------

You awoke the next morning like normal. You pulled the covers off, waiting a moment as your brain defogged from sleep, and when it did, you sat straight up in bed, completely alert.

The events from the previous day hit you like a truck. You dressed quickly, and tried to prepare yourself for what you might find when you walk downstairs.

The Avengers may have left without a word. You didn't know why that thought unsettled you so much. It's not like you were attached to them, despite being involved in a traumatic event together.

You chalked it up to you simply liking having company on the farm again. It had been so long since anyone had been here, and you enjoyed it. Too much. Too much that you were setting yourself up to get hurt when they inevitably left, if they weren't gone already.

You put on a sweater, and took a breath before opening your door. The other doors on the hall were closed. You decided not to open them just yet, and instead go downstairs first.

You made your way down the stairs, and cringed at the relief you felt when you saw bodies in your living room.

Bruce was sitting in the rocking chair by the bookshelf, his glasses perched on his nose, reading a book on "How to build the perfect barn"

Natasha was seated on the couch, her injured arm carefully propped up, and flipping through a magazine with the other.

You cleared your throat and offered a weak "Good Morning."

They both looked to you. Natasha smiled and Bruce spoke up.

"Did you uh, sleep well?" He asked. Natasha chuckled slightly as you nodded.

"Where are the others?" You asked.

"I'm not sure, we haven't been down here too long." Natasha responded.

You walked past the kitchen without looking inside and went straight out the front door. You were going to feed the horses, and hoped you'd find the remaining Avengers out there.

Steve was outside the barn with an axe, chopping up firewood.

"Oh, Steve, you didn't have to do that." You stated.

He stopped his movements and smiled at you.

"Gotta keep the house warm. And I figured it's the least I could do after how kind you've been to us."

"Really, it's no big deal. I was just doing my civic duty I guess." You chuckled slightly.

"It really does mean a lot to us." Steve began, "We'd love to um, I'm not really sure how to ask this.." But he lost your attention when a noise came from the barn.

"I should go check on the horses." You stated, moving past him with a warm expression.

He just stood there, watching you walk into the barn, feeling defeated. He had no idea how he was going to ask you if they could stay awhile, but he knew he needed to address it soon.

You entered the barn, thoughts of Steve's question so far from you, and saw Bucky, staring at your horses.

"Hey there." You said, grabbing a bucket.

"I was just uh, I just wanted to come see them. I've always liked horses, but I don't think these two like me." He laughed nervously.

"Nonsense. They're sweethearts. They're just not used to anyone being around but me." You explained, filling the bucket with food.

You moved to Thunder's stall first and filled his food trough.

"Here, let me help." Bucky said, taking the bucket from you. He approached Lucy slowly. Her posture was stiff and her nostrils flared.

"Maybe you should.." Bucky looked to you, obviously knowing that Lucy didn't trust him. He had a look on his face that made you think no one ever did.

"It's okay, just go slowly. Like this." You said as you slowly offered your hand to Lucy and let her sniff it. She calmed immediately, and you motioned for Bucky to mirror your actions.

He slowly lifted his flesh hand. Lucy hesitated at first, but then she smelled him, and then gently placed her nose in his hand.

"See. You're a natural." You smiled.

"She's beautiful." Bucky said. "What's her name?"

"This one is Lucy. She was my sisters horse. And this guy," You gestured to the other horse, "Is named Thunder. He's mine."

Bucky smiled, and finally built up the confidence to pour the food into her trough. He did, and she began eating, only showing signs of trust and contentment.

"You did really well with her. She trusts you now." You said to him.

He didn't reply, but just looked from you to Lucy in utter disbelief.

--

You walked out of the barn and back towards the house, passing Steve with the firewood. He stalled as you walked by, acting like he wanted to say something, but you didn't even notice. Your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of breakfast. You were going to cook at least one more meal for the Avengers before they left.

You stepped in the door to see Natasha and Bruce in the exact state you left them in. Natasha's nose in the magazine, and Bruce's in the book.

"Read anything interesting?" You asked, hanging your coat by the door.

"You've got so many issues here dating back awhile. I'm reading an article written from the New York Battle. They were talking about my clothes when aliens were literally destroying the city!" Natasha scoffed.

"Yeah, that's really the only interesting thing to the media when you're a woman." You sighed, walking into the kitchen.

You were met with Tony at the table, fiddling with a laptop. You recognized it. It was your old one that you hadn't used in awhile. You had lost the charger months ago, and never bothered to replace it.

"How'd you charge that?" You asked Tony as you walked over to the fridge.

"I found a few old cords in a drawer and tinkered with it. I got it hot wired and now its charging like it's brand new." He said, obviously proud of himself. Only then did you notice the mine field of cords that had been cut and twisted and maneuvered littering your dining room table. You laughed quietly to yourself as you remembered this was Tony Stark, a tech genius.

You opened the fridge and quickly realized that in all the chaos yesterday, you forgot to get eggs from the hen house. You groaned in annoyance as you realized you were going to have to return outside to get them.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Tony asked.

"Eggs. I forgot to get some yesterday."

"Want me to order some?" He asked. You scoffed playfully.

"Absolutely not. You're on a farm, Mr. Stark. I'm just going to go get some from the hen house."

He looked at you, then smiled. "I'm coming too then. Show me your foreign ways. And how many times am I gonna have to tell you to call me Tony?"

"Alright then, Tony, follow me." You laughed, and led him outside.

For a man on crutches, he was quite nimble. He hurriedly limped ahead of you, and opened the door.

"After you, mi'lady."

"Why thank you Mr. Stark." You laughed, walking ahead and knowing what was to come next.

"Tony! It's Tony!" he yelled at the back of your head. You just chuckled, not turning around, and heading to the hen house. He caught up with you quickly, and neither of you noticed the glares from the two super soldiers holding firewood in their arms.

--

"Wow, it does not smell good in here." Tony said as you stepped in to grab the first few eggs.

"It may not be a multi million dollar Avengers Tower, but this is a pretty nice hen house. One of the nicest ones I've ever seen." You smirked.

"You're right. It's the nicest one I've ever laid eyes on." Tony started. "Granted, it's the only one I've ever seen, but all future hen houses are ruined for me."

You just laughed, and then stopped to look at him. Tony didn't seem like the type to want to be babied over an injury.

"Well, Tony," you wiggled your eyebrows at him at the use of his first name, "are you going to help or just stand there?"

He said nothing but offered a cheeky smirk and began grabbing eggs. He moved slowly and awkwardly, and you could tell he was still in pain, but he did it without complaint.

You just watched him, thinking to yourself.

This man had all the money and fame in the world, and probably never worked a real hard day's of work in his life, yet here he was, on your farm, gathering eggs for you.

No one would ever believe it, not that you cared to tell anyone. This moment was yours, and that was all you needed.

Once the two of you had gathered enough eggs, you stepped out. When you turned to see Tony behind you, your eyes caught on something unfamiliar on the roof of the hen house. As you studied it, you realized it looked like a satellite of some sort.

"Tony." You stated.

He was adjusting the crutch under his arm, and offered a quick "Hm?"

"What's that?" You pointed to the makeshift satellite on the roof. He followed your finger, then looked back, slightly guilty, but mainly prideful.

"I needed wifi." Was all he said as he began his walk back towards the house.

--

Cooking used to be a tedious task you hated, and you often opted for a prepackaged roll of crackers or something similar when it was just you. But now that there were people in the house, and not just any people, the Avengers, you looked forward to it.

You were washing the eggs with Bruce standing next to you, helping. He was silent, but he seemed to be enjoying the task.

Tony sat at the dining room table again, but had taken the decency to clean off all the extra wires. You had no idea what he was doing that was so important on your old computer, but you didn't ask. You weren't sure if you wanted to know, or if you'd even understand his explanation.

Natasha was also at the table, her nose stuck in another old tabloid. One of the headings on the front read "Five changes to Black Widow's suit that you probably missed."

Bucky and Steve had returned inside, and you noticed quickly that they were not the type to sit around. Bucky had stood across the island in the kitchen, scanning the room and staring at you, looking like he wanted to help, but never saying anything. Steve was in the living room starting a fire to keep the house warm.

The rest of the Avengers seemed accustomed to Bucky's awkward and silent stares, but it unnerved you. After about five minutes, you'd had enough and tasked him with slicing bread for french toast. He seemed both excited and grateful to start the assignment.

There were still plenty off eggs to wash, and you let Bruce do the job alone. You were going to start making the batter for the toast.

You took a handful of clean eggs and placed them on the island. You grabbed milk from the fridge, and began pouring it into a bowl. You set up next to Bucky at the island. Not too close, but close enough you could feel the heat from his body radiating towards you. It was soothing.

You were cracking the last few eggs into the batter when Steve walked into the kitchen.

"Fire's going." He said, and looked around the kitchen. You didn't say anything, but looked to him and offered a smile. He returned it.

You could tell that leadership was running through Steve's veins. He walked around the room, looking at each of you. He looked over Tony's shoulder at the computer for a moment. This annoyed Tony.

"Cap, you're breathing my air." Tony huffed, waving at him to move on. He glanced at Natasha's magazine, which you still hadn't seen her look up from, and quickly decided it was of no interest to him.

You watched him as you whisked the eggs into the milk. He wasn't looking at you, at least not yet.

He moved to Bruce and watched him as he ran the eggs under the water and meticulously dried them and placed them into cartons. He gave a nod of approval before moving to stand across the island from you and Bucky. He watched Bucky slice the bread. If a slice was too thick or too thin, you saw his face tighten. He stood with crossed arms, and when a slice was acceptable to him, he gave a quiet hum of approval.

If Bucky's silence was unnerving, Steve's need for control was like a brewing anxiety attack. You didn't know why it made you so nervous, or why you felt like you needed his approval. Authority just radiated off of him.

When he turned to watch you, you moved your eyes to the bowl. You watched the egg yolks mix into the milk, and tried to act like his stare wasn't bothering you.

But what you didn't see was that his gaze changed when it fell upon you. It wasn't an intense, studying gaze. He wasn't watching your every move to approve or disapprove of what you were doing. He was simply interested.

You had perplexed him from the moment he saw you, in bloody scrubs, using his shield to save his best friend. You were out there in the cold, completely soaked, and using every bit of strength you had. It was a sight that caught his attention, and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since. Not in an obsessive way. He was just curious.

You turned away from the island to get sugar for the batter. You opened the cabinet and reached for the bag on the top shelf. It wasn't too high, you could manage it on your own, but when you stood on your toes and reached your arm up, you immediately let out a sharp groan of pain and retracted your arm.

As soon as the sound left your lips, you felt the room still.

You turned around, met with five pairs of eyes.

Bruce was turned away from the sink, eggs in both of his hands, looking at you.

The soft clink of the knife on the cutting board had ceased, as Bucky had fully turned his body around to see what had happened.

Natasha had looked up from her magazine for the first time this morning, her eyes trained on you with a slight look of concern.

Tony had closed the computer slightly and was watching you from across the room, one eyebrow raised.

And Steve was no longer across the island with his arms crossed. Instead, he was right next to you, a large hand on your shoulder, his lips parting as he began to speak.

"Are you alright?" The stare from his blue eyes suddenly making your body feel cold.

"Yes." You said, trying to shake the uncomfortable feeling like you were an exhibit being stared at by hundreds of strangers. "It's just my shoulder, I strained it yesterday. I over extended it reaching for the sugar."

The explanation seemed to satisfy the avengers, as they all resumed their tasks. Steve said nothing, but removed his hand from your shoulder and reached over you to grab the sugar. He placed it down on the island, and returned to his previous spot in the center of the room, watching everyone.

You tried to shake the uneasy feeling as you finished mixing the batter.

--

Bruce, Bucky, and Steve retired to the table as you finished cooking. They were all talking, mostly light hearted, and you were listening as you finished scrambling the eggs, all tension from earlier completely dissipated.

You weren't talking, not because they weren't including you in the conversation- in fact they were telling you stories and laughing, but because you enjoyed listening. You didn't have much to add anyways. Just a laugh here and a small hum when appropriate to show you were still paying them attention.

When the eggs were done you placed the large pan on the table, allowing them to add however much they liked to their plates while you retrieved the toast from the oven. You placed it on the table as well.

You had learned from the soup last night, and made plenty of food this morning.

You sat with them around the table as they playfully bickered and laughed as the food slowly dwindled to crumbs.

You tuned out of the conversation for a moment and looked around. The Avengers, Earth's mightiest heroes, were sitting at your dining room table joking and drinking orange juice. You still didn't feel like this was real.

You tuned back in when you felt a shift in the air. The laughing had stopped, and they looked at each other, obviously communicating something with their eyes that you were not privy to.

You thought this was the moment where they were going to excuse themselves and say that it was time for them to leave. Then Steve cleared his throat.

"Y/n," He began, "We just want to thank you for how generous you've been to us. And for saving our lives."

You felt your nerves return. Of course you were grateful for their compliments, but moments like these- when you were the center of attention- made you anxious. You never really knew what to say.

"Really, it was no big deal." You smiled, awkwardly pushing eggs around on your plate with a fork.

"Well it is to us." Steve continued. "We just wanted you to know that we're grateful, and.." He trailed off, obviously nervous himself now. He looked to Natasha, who nodded at him, and then Tony, who gave an impatient look.

"I don't really know how to ask this.." Steve looked back to you.

"What is it?" You asked, slightly impatient yourself now. His obvious anxiety was making you anxious. What could Captain America possibly have to ask you that was making him so nervous? It was obviously bad news.

"We were wondering if we could stay a little while." Tony, ever the blunt one, blurted.

You looked around at them in disbelief, not saying anything. Not because, you didn't want them to, you'd be delighted if they did, but because you couldn't fathom why. These were the Avengers, and Tony was a billionaire. What could you possibly offer that wasn't already at their fingertips.

You cleared your throat.

"Of course, I'd love having you guys stay." You said, curiosity more evident in your tone than excitement.

"We don't have to, It is perfectly fine to tell us to kick rocks." Natasha said.

"No, genuinely, I'd be delighted. I love having company on the farm again, it's refreshing. Stay as long as you like. But.." you trailed off, trying to think of a polite way to ask why.

"But what?" Bucky blurted.

"Well, I guess I just want to know why. I mean, what could I possibly have to offer you guys?"

"That's a valid inquisition." Tony said. Steve silenced him with a look and then turned back to you.

"Well, the truth is, we need somewhere to lay low for awhile. Our last mission showed us a few things, and it's better if we're out of the public eye for a little while." He explained.

You had plenty more questions, but picked up on the fact that Steve didn't want to explain too much. So instead of asking them, you decided to respect that and simply said,

"Well, you guys can stay for as long as you need. Seriously, I don't mind. There's plenty of room and things that can get done around here." You joked.

"Obviously we are going to pitch in everywhere." Bruce added.

"And I will compensate you for the time." Tony spoke up.

"Oh there's no need." You said.

"At least let me pay for groceries, we eat a lot if you haven't noticed." He politely argued.

"Okay, I guess we can work something out." You smiled.

Natasha helped you carry dishes with one arm. As you were washing the plates, you addressed the Avengers.

"I have to go into work this afternoon and talk to my boss about yesterday, I won't tell her you're here of course, I'll give a different excuse, but I was wondering if you guys would need anything from town?"

"You won't be doing that." Tony said, grabbing his crutches.

"Doing what?" You turned to him. None of the other Avengers would look you in the eye.

"Talking to your boss. It's handled." He said simply.

You looked to him, raising a brow.

"Tony, what did you do?"

"Nothing! There may just be a wing in that hospital with my name on it, so when I called and said that a certain nurse was doing very valuable, yet classified work for Stark Industries, and was going to need some time off, they didn't bat an eye."

You sighed. "That was very nice of you, and I'm glad you got me off the hook for yesterday, but I can't not work. I need the paycheck."

"Oh did I forget to mention that it is paid time off? I really do have a lot of influence."

You were shocked, but happy. After being here and taking care of the Avengers, you didn't want to leave. You knew you would have to go back to work eventually, but Tony had afforded you a few weeks of bliss on your farm, with your regular paycheck.

You didn't like how relived and happy you were that they were staying. Not because you didn't want them around, but because you knew it wasn't permanent.

And the longer they stayed, the more heartbreaking it was going to be when they left.

--------------------

Read the prologue here

series masterlist

Summary: A jet filled with avengers crash lands in your yard. You help them to safety, and had no idea what you were getting yourself into. They end up staying for awhile to hideout, but had no idea how much you would save them- in more ways than one.

A/N: This chapter dives into a little more of what happens after the prologue, what the Avengers plans are, and how you take care of them as they wake up. Still working to build the foundation to have them fall for you!

--------

The soup was coming together nicely. You had doubled the recipe. You weren't sure how much they would eat, if they would have any, but you would rather be safe than sorry. Besides, if they didn't eat it all, you could take the leftovers to the homeless shelter on your way into work.

Once it got to the right temperature, you turned off the heat and let it thicken for a little while. You pulled the bread out of the oven and began slicing it. That's when you heard voices in the living room.

You turned the corner to see Tony Stark hugging the wall, barely able to stand on his injured leg.

"What is this place anyway? Barton estate 2.0?" He quipped. Even his voice sounded rich. He hadn't noticed you yet.

"And what are you two wearing? Am I dreaming or did we crash land into an alternate universe where you two are living a domestic farm life drinking coffee by the evening fire?"

"Tony, we landed in a field, on a farm. A girl lives here. Her names...." Steve started, but stopped when he realized he didn't even know your name.

"Buck, did you ever get her name?" He asked. Bucky just shook his head, looking shamefully down at the ground.

"So let me get this straight. We've been here for how long? And you're telling me this girl single handedly saved all of us from getting blown up, doctored our wounds, and you two never even asked her for her name? Aren't you from the 40s? And you say I don't know chivalry. Great going Cap." Tony laughed, but then twisted in pain.

"Mr. Stark, you shouldn't be standing on that leg right now." You moved towards him. He looked at you, and his eyes studied you for a moment.

"Call me Tony. And you are?" He said, eyeing Steve and Bucky.

"Y/n. Do you mind if I help you?" You stated, holding your arms out but not touching him yet without his permission.

"Lovely name. Very nice to meet you. But I think I can handle it." He smiled, trying to step forward, but immediately crumpling in pain. Bucky and Steve stepped forward. "Yep okay I might need help." He groaned.

You quickly put his arm around your neck and led him to the couch.

"You shouldn't be putting any weight on that leg, Mr. Stark. There wasn't any major damage, but your muscles need to heal. I can get you some crutches so you can move around easily though."

"That would be great, thank you. And whats that smell?" He asked.

"Uh, probably you Tony. You reek of smoke and sweat." Steve said.

"I meant the good smell. And I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to make myself at home and take a bubble bath like you two apparently have." He rolled his eyes.

"Uh, I'm making dinner. And you can shower too, Mr. Stark-"

"Tony, sweetheart," he corrected "Call me Tony."

"Right, Tony. I've got plenty of clothes you can borrow, and I can get you some pain medicine. I just didn't want to administer any while you were asleep incase you had any allergies." You explained.

"A shower would be nice, yes. But uh, I'm confused. So you just pulled us all out of the fire and into a makeshift hospital?" He asked.

"Well, I'm a registered nurse and I work in the emergency room at the hospital. And I have a lot of medical equipment and medications on hand because of my father." You explained.

"Oh, well I'd really like to meet the man and thank him for letting us crash. Pun intended." Tony smiled. Steve coughed, and Bucky looked away.

"Actually, I live here alone. My father died a few years ago. All the medical equipment was his."

"Oh, I'm so sorry y/n, I didn't mean-"

"No its totally okay. I'm gonna go get you some clothes and the crutches. I'll be right back." You said, turning around the corner and down the hall.

"What is it with you two and your questions? We better warn Bruce and Nat not to make her explain that again." Steve rolled his eyes and flopped down on the couch next to Tony. "You really do stink." He laughed.

You returned the next minute with the crutches, and led Tony down the hall to the guest bathroom. You laid his clothes on the counter, and sat a bottle of medical grade ibuprofen down with it. You motioned for him to sit on the toilet lid so you could remove the bandage from his leg.

He winced in pain, but began talking like nothing was bothering him. He noticed the bandage on your hand.

"What happened there?" He asked.

"Well, I guess it's your fault." You laughed.

"Mine? Really? Do explain."

"Well, I found you in your suit, unconscious, and was trying to get you out so I could you away from the impending explosion. I was getting a little frantic, and running my hands all over trying to find and eject button or something and sliced it on a broken piece of metal."

"Thank you, by the way. I don't know if those two idiots ever got around to telling you, but what you did for us today was amazing, and I'm sorry you got hurt in the process." He looked down at you, almost all traces of overconfidence gone. Almost.

"Your suit is pretty amazing too. I was yelling for help and it recognized an emergency. It scanned me and my badge, realized I was medical personnel, and let you out so I could help you." You stood up.

"What can I say. It was designed by a genius." He smirked. "By the way, where is my suit?"

"Um, well its probably destroyed. It was in pretty bade shape already when I found you, but I didn't get it pulled away from the explosion." You were nervous that he would be angry, but he wasn't. Not in the slightest. He smiled at you again, and you cleared your throat.

"Well, I'm gonna go finish making dinner. When you get out, I'll need to redress your wound."

"Oh you're making dinner? Should we head out? I can get Natasha and Banner up and out in no time. I don't want to impose." Tony grabbed the crutches and began to stand.

"No, of course not. I made it all for you. I figured you could all use a hot meal after being out in the cold and going through what you went through today."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Positive. You've all done so much for so many people, its the least I can do." He just looked at you with an expression that made you feel like he didn't believe he deserved that kindness. You decided it was time to step out, and you gently shut the door. Not even a moment later you heard the shower running.

You returned to find Steve and Bucky sitting on the couch again. Bucky seemed to be close to nodding off, and Steve was doing a crossword in one of your old newspapers that sat under the coffee table. They looked so... domestic. Captain America was sitting on your couch, in normal clothes, reading the news paper.

They seemed in no hurry to get out of here, but you didn't mind. You enjoyed having company on the farm again. You didn't stop to say anything and instead returned to the kitchen to finish slicing the bread. The soup was finally at a consistency you liked, when you heard voices in the living room again. You decided to wait a moment before entering, giving Steve enough time to explain to whoever had woken up next.

Before you could do anything else, Steve was stepping into the kitchen, leading a weak looking Natasha Romanoff.

"Nat, this is y/n. She saved our lives today." Steve pointed to you.

The redhead smiled a nice smile. She was holding her arm awkwardly in the splint. Her hair was tousled and she was still in her suit.

"Thank you, y/n. I'm Natasha. You can call me Nat." She smiled and stuck out her uninjured hand. You shook it gently.

Before you had a chance to respond, Tony was entering the kitchen, his crutches making a loud noise against the floor.

"I gotta say, I really hope this dinner is ready soon, I'm starving- oh, she has awakened. How's that arm?" Tony gestured to Natasha. She rolled her eyes and looked at him.

"I see you three boys have made yourself right at home."

"Y/n really is an amazing hostess. I think you should follow suit and shower as well, I can smell you from here, and It's not the onions she's cooking with." Tony smirked.

"Go to hell Stark." She said with a smile.

"You can definitely shower, I have plenty of clothes. I'll take your arm out of that splint, just be careful with it." You explained. She looked like she wanted to be polite and say "i'm fine, thank you though," but just like the others, her need to be clean and her exhaustion took over. She just smiled and nodded and said "I'd love that, thank you."

Once you got her settled, you returned to the kitchen to see the three men sitting at your dining room table. Tony at the head, and the other two around him. Tony was fiddling with his phone, and let out a frustrated sigh.

"There's no service out here." You said, grabbing some bowls from the cabinet.

"That's an easy fix." Was all he said.

A moment later, Bruce stepped into the kitchen, nervously holding his pants around his waist.

"Uh, guys, what's going on?"

Steve rose from the table quickly and ushered Bruce out of the living room- no doubt to save you from explaining yourself again. You smiled as you set the table, and then disappeared down the hallway again. You returned once more with clothes, and showed Bruce where he could shower. He was very polite and kept thanking you and apologizing.

"Dr. Banner, It's really no trouble. Like I told the others, it's the least I could do after everything you've all done for everyone else."

"Bruce. Just Bruce is fine." He smiled, and gave that same look you'd seen on every other Avenger. A look that said he felt undeserving of your kindness.

As you walked back down the hallway, you made it your mission to make each of them believe they deserved all your kindness and so much more.

--

As you finished setting the table and ladled soup into all of their bowls, Bruce and Natasha were just re entering. They sat down with grateful looks.

"There is plenty if you guys want more. I didn't know how hungry you'd all be, so I may have overcompensated." You chuckled, taking your own seat.

"Thank you y/n, you really didn't have to do all this. You've done enough for us already." Steve stated, placing his spoon in his bowl. Each Avenger echoed a similar gratitude.

"Well, I was definitely not letting an Avenger die on my watch." You chuckled. They smiled, and your heartbeat sped up as they began to eat. You hadn't cooked for anyone but yourself in a long time, and you were worried they wouldn't like it, but that worry was quickly extinguished. They ate like they hadn't had a meal in a week. They all quickly finished their first bowl and retrieved seconds. And thirds. You hadn't expected them to eat all of the soup, but you were staring at an empty pot.

"That was fantastic," Tony said as you began running water to wash the dishes. "Are you looking for a job, because I'd be willing to pay generously to have you as my personal chef."

"Oh no, I have a job alre-" You stopped, your heart dropping into your stomach. "Oh no!" you said, turning the water off and frantically grabbing your phone.

"What's wrong?" Bucky stood up from the table.

"My job!" You said, grabbing your keys and coat. "I didn't show up to work today! My boss is probably furious, I hope I even still have it." You headed for the door. '

"Where are you going?" Steve asked.

"I have to drive into town for service. I need to call and explain. They probably won't even believe me, I'll have to come up with something." You said stepping onto the porch. You quickly stepped back inside.

"I don't know what time I'll be back. You guys can sleep anywhere you want, all the beds are already made up! My room is the one upstairs on the right, but there should be plenty of bedrooms. Just pick one!"

And then you were flying to your car, heading towards service.

You didn't know if they'd be there when you got back, or what their plans were. But you wanted them to know that your home was open if they wanted to stay.

--

"Okay, we need to talk." Steve said, sitting back down at the table after you walked out.

"Definitely. Have any of you seen a computer around here? I'm gonna set up a wifi connection and have a word with her boss-" Tony stared.

"No, Tony. Well yes, it might help if you can smooth things over with her work, but we need to talk about what we’re doing." Steve said.

"I kinda wanted to stay here." Bucky stated quietly, taking another bite of his bread.

"Well I figured we'd stay tonight, seeing as we have no way of getting back into New York without y/n or a signal to call. But about the mission."

They all fell silent. Even Bucky stopped chewing.

"I don't get it." Bruce started, "They knew everything about us, down to our fight patterns. They were so ready for us. They've been watching."

"Which means either the tower security is compromised, or theres a rat." Natasha stated.

"And they promised they were coming back for us." Bucky added.

"If we go back home to the tower, we're just making ourselves easy targets. Has anyone heard from Thor or Clint?" Tony questioned.

"Clint is still at home with his family. He's fine." Natasha answered.

"And Thor is on Asgard, and probably will be for awhile. Hydra isn't a threat to him. If we really need him, I'm sure he'd come." Bruce explained.

"No, it's better that he stays there. If he returned to Earth right now, it'd just draw Hydra's attention." Steve said.

"Well, right now, we're in the middle of nowhere on a farm with no service. I think this is the last place Hydra would be looking for us." Tony said, obviously hinting at what he thought they should do.

Natasha was more direct. "I vote we stay. For as long as we can. For as long as she will let us."

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, remembering their panic from earlier.

"Then that puts her in danger." Bucky said.

"She's done so much already, I hate to have her let us stay and then something end up happening to her because of us." Steve sighed.

"Well, the only way Hydra could track us here is using the jet, and that thing is destroyed. And if they did manage to get this location, then they're already coming." Bruce reasoned.

"And she's better off with us here to protect her than being alone." Bucky added.

"Okay, maybe you're right. But how do we ask her if we can stay for awhile? What if she doesn't want us here?" Steve asked.

"Should we explain everything to her?" Natasha suggested.

"I don't know how well she'd take to us telling here theres an army looking for us, and we we're leading them straight to her." Tony quipped.

"So we don't tell the whole truth. We bend it a bit. Say we're laying low and need somewhere to stay." Bucky said, obviously not too keen on the idea of lying.

"I hate to lie to her after everything she's done." Steve said.

"It's for her own good. To protect her. That's the best way we can repay her. It's the only way we know how." Natasha said truthfully.

"And what if she doesn't want us to stay?" Bruce asked.

"Then we won't. But I will make damn sure she's protected. I could have surveillance out here within a week of getting home, and we will be ready." Tony stated, matter of factly.

"So then we're in agreement? We're going to try and stay?" Steve polled the group. They all nodded.

"Alright then, It's settled."

--

When you returned, the lights were all off. You flipped the switch in the kitchen, defeated. Your boss never answered. You were worried if you still even had a job. Tomorrow was your day off. You would make sure everything around here was in order, then drive to the hospital and talk to her in person.

You walked over to the sink, ready to wash the dishes from dinner, only to find them already done and put away. At first you smiled, then your smile dropped. They cleaned up, which probably meant they were gone. You hadn't really expected them to stay, they were the Avengers after all, but you still decided to check the rooms. You checked the room with all the medical supplies first, and saw Tony passed out on the king sized bed. This was the only room with one, and it didn't surprise you that Tony had claimed it. You checked the other downstairs bedroom, the normal guest room, and saw Bruce soundly tucked into the covers, snoring softly.

You made your way upstairs to the room that had belonged to your sister, and saw Natasha comfortably swaddled in the light pink comforter, her injured arm resting on a pillow. You checked the second guest room, the upstairs one, and saw Bucky, shirtless, laying with the covers half on his body. He was snoring lightly as well.

Finally, you checked the last room, expecting to see an unconscious version of Steve, but it was empty. His shield rested against the foot of the bed, but he was nowhere to be seen.

You quietly closed the door and made your way back downstairs, just as Steve stepped through the front door, firewood in his arms.

"I didn't want the house to get cold tonight." He stated, adding a log to the fire.

"Was that the last of the firewood?" You asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry, was I not supposed to-"

"No, no, it's okay, I'll just have to chop some more tomorrow."

He didn't say anything, but looked like he was taking a mental note.

"We'll, I'm gonna head to bed." You stated.

"Me too." He said. "I'll walk you up."

You laughed internally as you remembered that Steve was from the 40s, where it was second nature to be so chivalrous. As you got to your door, you turned to him and thanked him.

"No, y/n, thank you. For everything." He smiled.

You smiled back at him and said a quick "goodnight" before slipping into your room.

Sleep came easy that night. You were exhausted from the day's exertion. But also, you had never felt more secure than in a house full of Avengers, and you liked it.

-----

series masterlist

-

Summary: A jet filled with avengers crash lands in your yard. You help them to safety, and had no idea what you were getting yourself into. They end up staying for awhile to hideout, but had no idea how much you would save them- in more ways than one.

Pairing: it feels cliche or dumb to say reader x avengers, but that’s really why it is for now. Reader will eventually end up with one, but more than one will definitely fall for her. It’s a story of you saving each of them and putting them back together. Who you end up with depends on what you decide you want.

Warnings: mentions of blood, a few cuss words, mentions of wounds, explosion, reader has horses (if you hate horse girls I guess), but she really isn’t a horse girl. Lives on a farm. Mentions of death of parents.

A/n: I LOVED writing this. It was so fun. I saw a tiktok imagine with something similar to this. It’s very loosely based but a common idea I guess but if yall find the tiktok lmk and I will def give credit. ALSO the picture at the top I think really symbolizes so much and with how each of these avengers feel about you and how important you become. Imagine them looking at you like this!! Anyways, please enjoy and let me know how you’ll want it to end. Aka who your ship is. Will definitely be a love triangle or square at some point. ALSO I PROMISE THIS IS NOT CHAT GPT I JUST LIKE TO USE DASHES FOR READING AFFECT I WROTE THIS ALL ON MY OWN.

Also, I’m working on making the master list page, but go to my account for other parts. Chapters 1-3 are out NOW!

~~~

Living in the seclusion of your farm, far away from the bustling city, was your own paradise. You had grown up here, and enjoyed every minute of your childhood. Running around with your siblings, playing hide and seek in the barn when your cousins came over, and always having big family gatherings for every holiday. Your dad's farm land was so beautiful. 56 acres of pure bliss. There was a pond out by the woods, a barn filled with hay, several fields for your horses to run, and a hen house where you harvested your own eggs for cooking.

The land was paid off, but after your parents died and your siblings moved away, the responsibility of the farm fell on you. You had to sell most of the livestock, as you couldn't afford the upkeep on your own. You were just finishing nursing school when your world became just you- alone.

You weren't poor, but you definitely were not at the same level of wealth as when your parents were alive. You had been left a decent inheritance that you split with your siblings. They all took their piece and moved away. You used yours to pay off the farm and buy a reliable vehicle to drive you back and forth to work.

You worked in the main hospital in New York as an ER nurse, and it was an hour commute there and an hour back. Two if traffic leaving the city was busy, and it usually always was.

You were in your same routine of feeding the chickens and horses before you left. You only had two horses. A beautiful mare named Lucy, and a handsome gelding named Thunder. Thunder was your horse, and always had been. You hated that you never got the time to ride either of them anymore, but you tried as often as you could.

You worked all the time, and today was just another one of those early mornings. It was cold out, and you had thrown a white sweater over your scrubs. You had remote started your car a few minutes ago, hoping it would be warm by the time you got in.

Thunder was being particularly restless this morning. He was anxiously pawing at the ground, and making Lucy unnerved with his actions.

"Hey boy, its okay. Calm down, I'm right here." You soothed. You turned toward the barn opening to grab a blanket from the hooks when your heart stalled.

There was a ship or jet of some sort flying dangerously close to the ground of one of your fields. Your first thought was the avengers and New York. Could this be another attack? Was it originating in your front yard?

You stared, frozen, as you realized the ship wasn't flying that low on purpose- it was crashing. There was fire and smoke coming out of one of the back engines and it was headed straight for the ground.

It crashed in a cloud of smoke. The fire seemed to remain small. You tried calling 911, but the service out here was horrible, and you had never gotten around to installing wifi. There wasn't even a TV in your house.

You mounted Thunder and started to ride towards somewhere you could get service, scared to death that an alien might crawl out of the ship. But you saw nothing. As you rode, you felt Thunder lead you. He was leading you towards the jet, like he knew you needed to be there.

He stopped about a hundred feet from the crash site and pawed at something on the ground. It made a loud clang when he hit it. You leaned over and looked at what he was gesturing to. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on a familiar symbol or red white and blue.

Captain America's shield was in your yard.

"The Avengers." You said as you had Thunder run you back to the barn as quickly as possible. You jumped into his water trough, soaking yourself and your scrubs in water. It was freezing out, but you couldn't risk getting caught on fire. You mounted him again and moved as fast as you could back to the wreckage, still trying frantically to make an emergency call go through.

You dismounted Thunder before he was even fully stopped and ran to the end of the jet that was smoking. Fortunately, the fire hadn't spread too much yet and hadn't made it to the fuel tank. As you looked at the wreckage, your heart sank. There were the familiar faces of the Avengers you had seen on TV for so long. Your eyes first found Black Widow, her red hair sticking out amongst the faded winter grass. You ran to her.

"Hello! Miss can you hear me? Can you move?" You asked frantically. You were given nothing in response. You immediately checked for a pulse and made sure she was breathing. Once you realized she was, you quickly assessed for injuries. Her arm was stuck under a piece of metal, and it looked to be bloody and bent in an excruciating position. You knew how to tend to the injury, but your main priority right now was getting them all away from the explosion that was sure to occur when the fire spread to the fuel tank. You thought about trying to put it out, but your hose was not long enough and it would take several trips to bring enough water over here. You didn't have enough time for that. You cursed yourself for not replacing your fire extinguisher after the incident in your kitchen last month.

You knew you didn't have much time, and tried to act quickly. You began to pick up the piece of metal off of the redhead's arm. You weren't weak, you were used to lifting heavy things on the farm your whole life. The metal wasn't light but it wasn't too heavy either. You got it off of her and quickly lifted her off the ground and moved her far enough away from any blasts, but not too far so you had time to get back to the others.

The next you found was Bruce Banner. He was covered in nothing but a tattered pair of shorts that were way too large. You assumed he had just transformed back from his alter green ego. He seemed to be mainly okay except for a slight gash on his forehead, probably sustained in the crash. He was awfully close to the fire though, so he was inhaling smoke by the minute. He had a pulse, but was unresponsive as well. He was clearly bigger than Natasha, so you wouldn't be able to carry him. Dragging him, however, was the best you could do. Your gripped him tightly under the arms and dragged him over to Natasha, and laid him there. You took only a moment to quickly make sure his pants were covering everything, just in case he woke up.

You ran back over to the wreckage, still shivering from the cold. You saw a pair of combat boots sticking out dangerously close to the fire. You covered your mouth and nose with your wet shirt, and braced yourself. You ran to the figure, gasping when you saw the familiar face of Steve Rogers, unconscious, bloodied lip, and huge gash on his chest.

"Captain America! Sir, can you hear me?" No response. Steve Rogers was a marginally bigger man than Bruce Banner. There was no way you could get him moved far enough away in time. Even using all your strength, you'd still move too slow. But you had to try. This man had sacrificed so much for the safety of millions, you weren't going to leave him here under the excuse of being too "weak". You couldn't quite reach his shoulders to drag him that way, so you had to start with his feet. You gripped him by his ankles, and pulled.

"Im sorry Captain America sir, I know this isn't ideal" You said to no one.

Once you had gotten his upper body away from the wreckage, you hooked your arms under his shoulders and mustered all your strength to pull him to the others. Luckily, it was downhill, so your momentum and gravity did a lot of the work for you.

Once Captain America was safely out of harms way, you returned. You hoped this hadn't been a full mission, and that there was not anyone else to try and save.

You were wrong.

Your eyes caught sight of the sunlight being heavily reflected off a red material.

Iron Man. Tony Stark.

Immediately you were scared, but you ran to him anyways. No one you had pulled out had as big a reputation as Tony- good or bad.

If Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, play boy, avenger, and heir to Stark Industries died in your field, your life as you knew it would be over.

"Mr Stark!" you yelled as you ran and dropped to your knees. "Mr. Stark can you hear me?" You looked over the metal suit. His helmet looked as though it had been ripped off. He was sporting a horrible black eye and his face was bloodied from his brow to his lip. A portion of the suit that covered his left upper thigh was missing, and decent sized piece of metal pierced his thigh.

You gently touched it to see how deep it was, hoping it hadn't hit a major artery. He groaned at this and you immediately shot back up to his face.

"Mr Stark? Are you awake?"

No other response. Apparently the groan of pain was the only thing you could get out of him.

You were anxious. You had no idea how to get him out of the suit, and you wee running out of time. You had to get him away and still search the perimeter for any other avengers.

You tried to move him with the suit, but it was far too heavy. Even heavier than Steve. You frantically ran your hand all over the metal, looking for any button that could make the suit release him. You winced and let out a cry as you sliced your hand over a particularly sharp piece.

You let out a groan and and screamed for help, hoping any of the other Avengers might awaken and come to the rescue. As the word left your mouth, the arc reactor in the suit light up and scanned you.

It shined a light on the badge that was attached to your scrubs.

"Emergency services detected. Miss Y/n, L/n, RN. Approved" An AI voice rang out. The suit opened. You couldn't even take a moment to be stunned as you were quickly hooking your arms under Mr. Stark's shoulders and dragging him away, just as you had done several times before. You added him to the pile of unconscious Avengers before running back.

The fire had grown bigger. Your time was short. You had counted four Avengers. You knew there were at least six. You ran around the area of the wreckage, frantically calling out for a response.

"Hello? Is anyone else out here?" You held your bloody hand to your scrubs, staining them scarlet. You were running and tripped. You looked at your feet and saw Captain America's Shield. You grabbed it, deciding it might come in handy, and you were glad you did. Because the next person you saw had a large piece of metal laying across his abdomen.

"Hey! Can you hear me?" You said, dropping the shield and crouching down next to the face of this man. He seemed unfamiliar, and then you saw the metal arm. You couldn't recall his name, but the arm brought back a familiar news story from a few years ago. This was the man that everyone had said bombed the government meeting that killed the King of Wakanda.

"Sir, can you hear me?" You asked again, not expecting a response, but he groaned. He seemed like he was trying to make out words, but his eyes still were not opening. His words were slurring, but you finally made out a name.

"Sssteeve..." the man groaned.

"My names y/n. Im here to help. Im gonna try and get this metal off you." You stated quickly. You tried lifting the wreckage, but it was far too heavy. You were panicking.

"Do you think you could try and help lift with your metal arm?" you asked. He opened his eyes slightly, but dropped his head back to the ground. You looked around for anything to help when your eyes landed on the shield again.

"Okay, I'm gonna try and lift this up, and when I do, can you try and roll out from underneath it? Can you hear me?" You asked.

The man groaned again, but it seemed like he nodded. You hoped he understood.

You grabbed the shield, and did everything in your power to wedge it underneath the metal. When you seemed to get it far enough, you pressed down with all your strength, trying to lift it. The wreckage lifted slightly, but not enough for the man to roll out.

"More.." you heard him groan again.

"I'm trying!" You stated, putting all your weight down onto the shield. It lifted some more, and the man moved, but it still wasn't enough.

You were groaning as you exerted every ounce of strength you could muster, when a pain ripped through your right shoulder. But you kept going. You were freezing, your hand was dripping blood and stinging, and your shoulder was in excruciating pain, but you kept pushing as hard as you could down on the shield. You were going to get this man out or die trying.

As you were pushing and felt your face turning red, the metal began to move a lot easier. In fact, it lifted and was thrown a few feet away. You looked down at yourself, and at the shield, surprised. You assumed the man had regained strength and thrown it off himself, but when you looked to him, his arms were still in the same position you found him in.

"Thought you might could use some help" A voice called beside you. You turned quickly and saw the face of Steve Rogers looking back at you.

You didn't say anything to him, there was no time, you had to get away from the ship. He looked to the man on the ground.

"Buck?" Can you hear me?" Steve asked. No response.

"We've got to move." You said, grabbing one of the guy's arms and gesturing for Steve to grab the other. He followed suit. You began dragging the man with the metal arm to the other Avengers. You laid him down as Steve collapsed with him, breathing heavily.

You looked around at all the unconscious Avengers, and a barely there Captain America. Thats when it hit you.

"Wait, theres more. Where is Thor? And the guy with the bow and arrow? Hawkeye? We have to go back!' You started back towards the wreckage, not even realizing you still held Captain America's shield in your uninjured hand.

"Wait!" Steve called out behind you, struggling to stand. Thats when the explosion happened. It knocked you back several feet, but you stood up quickly and screamed.

"No!" You screamed, and began running towards it, determined to find the others.

"Wait! Ma'm! Stop!" Steve called out, staggering after you in an injured run. Before you knew it, a pair of strong arms were around you, pulling you away from the fire.

"No! We can't leave them! I can't be responsible for the Avengers dying!" You cried, trying to pry yourself out of your arms.

He turned you around and grabbed your firmly by the shoulders. You winced as he gripped your injured shoulder, and he loosened his grip. Not entirely, because he was afraid you might bolt again, but enough to keep you there.

"That's all of us. No one is dying." He said.

"W-what?" your voice broke. "B-but the others? Thor, and-"

"They weren't with us. They weren't on this mission." He stated.

"So, I got all of you? All of you are safe?"

"Yes." He smiled. "You saved all of us. We're pretty banged up, but that's not your fault. You saved us all from burning up in that fire."

You sighed a huge sigh of relief. That's when Steve noticed your state.

You were soaked and shivering. It was freezing outside. And you were holding your shoulder. When you moved your hand, he saw a deep bloody handprint on your shirt. He saw the gash in your hand.

"Let's get you inside. You need medical attention." He stated, pulling you away.

"We have to get all of them inside too. They need to be checked out."

"We can call medical services." He replied.

"No, theres no service out here. I already scanned over all of your injuries. I have plenty of medical supplies inside. I can do it." You stated, slowly walking over to the others. "I just can't get them all inside by myself."

"I can help. Don't worry." He finally released his grip on your shoulder.

"Me too." A painful voice called out from the ground. You looked over to the man with the metal arm, still lying on the ground on his back. "I can help, just, let me get up." He groaned.

"Who's that?" You asked.

"You can call me Bucky." He stated, slowly pushing himself up.

"Well, let's get moving." Steve stated, walking towards the others who were still unresponsive.

"Uh wait, Captain America?" You called out.

"Steve is fine." He turned back to you.

"Okay, Steve, I think this belongs to you." You said, holding out his shield.

"Thank you. He said, taking it and attaching it to the back of his suit. "You were doing pretty well with it before I came along though." He laughed.

You just smiled as you began moving the others inside.

---

"Where do you want them?" Bucky asked, with a still unresponsive Bruce Banner thrown over his shoulder.

"The room at the end of the hall." You replied, holding Natasha Romanoff in your arms. Bucky started down the hall, and Steve followed suit, carrying Tony Stark.

As they entered the room, they were met with a sight. Multiple machines lined the walls. There were boxes upon boxes labeled with medical supplies. It was a bedroom though. There was a giant king sized bed in the middle of the room, and a hospital bed pressed against one wall. There was a couch against the other with two ottomans on either end.

"Put Mr. Stark in the hospital bed, his injuries seemed the worst. Put Dr. Banner in this one." You instructed, gently laying Natasha down. You took great care with her injured arm and laid it on top of a pillow.

"What is this place? Are you like some in home Doctor?" The man named Bucky asked you.

"Buck." Steve warned, clearly not liking how forward he was with his questioning.

"Um, no." You said, moving over to asses Mr. Stark's leg injury further. "I'm an RN in the emergency room at the hospital in New York. I live here. This was my parents room. My dad had a lot of medical issues before he died, and he stayed in here. We also just have a lot of emergency supplies because the farm used to be really big and busy and we were accident prone."

The two men just looked at each other. That's when you realized that they had injuries of their own too. Steve had a huge gash across his chest, and they both had bloodied up faces. And Bucky had been under a huge piece of metal, so it wouldn't surprise you if he had injuries under his shirt.

"You two should sit down." You said. "I need to check you guys out too, but seeing as you two are the only ones conscious right now, I'll get to you after them."

They looked like they wanted to protest for a moment, but their tiredness and injuries seemed to outweigh that. They sat on opposite ends of the couch, both stretching out their feet on the ottomans.

"I'm going to change, but when I get back, you have a lot of explaining to do."

--

You returned with dry clothes and began wrapping up the gash on your hand so as not to cross contaminate your blood with any of the others.

"What happened to your hand?" Steve asked.

"I cut it on Mr. Stark's suit while I was trying to get him out." You stated. You pressed a hand to your shoulder, wincing in pain.

"What about your shoulder?" asked Bucky.

"I strained it pretty bad trying to get that metal off of you. It's just a pulled muscle, nothing I can really do but let it rest."

The two fell silent as you began with Mr. Stark. You had determined the metal piercing his leg was not too serious, and you could pull it out and bandage it. Once the metal was removed, you began to sanitize the wound. You were grateful he was not awake because you knew this was going to be pretty painful.

Once you finished his leg, you moved to Natasha's arm. She had a cut along her shoulder and you needed to put her arm in a splint. As you began, you decided to ask the two men how they ended up here.

"What happened?" You asked, waiting for a response from either. Steve, ever the leader, was the one who answered.

"We had a mission. It wasn't going too well. We were trying to get out of there. We Were flying, and didn't realize the enemy had placed a bomb on the ship. A gas one to knock us all out, and a regular one to blow up the ship. I guess that's how we landed here."

"So that's why you were all so unconscious? I was wondering how earth's mightiest heroes managed to crash into a field without saving themselves first." You chuckled.

"Yeah, I was driving. By the time I noticed the gas and it got to me, the others were all out. I put the jet on auto pilot and tried to help, but I got knocked out pretty quick. Then the other bomb went off. And thats the last thing I remember before waking up and finding you with my shield trying to move a two ton piece of metal off this guy." Steve explained.

"So how come the two of you are awake, but not the others?"

"Well, we have the super solider serum. It increases our tolerance of things like alcohol and drugs. I guess this was no different." Bucky finally spoke up.

You had finished working on Natasha, and moved to Dr. Banner, who seemed to have minimal injuries. But you remembered how close he had been to the fire and how much smoke he had probably inhaled, so you got out one of your dad's oxygen tanks and set the tube around his nose. Then you turned your attention to the two super soldiers.

They seemed to be barely holding on.

"I need to check the two of you out too." You stated. They looked like they wanted to argue and play the tough guy and say "I'm fine," but the weakness of their movements and the paleness in their faces told you they knew they shouldn't.

"Um, Cap-"

"Steve." He corrected. "You spent the past hour pulling us all out wreckage, alone. You can call me Steve."

"Okay Steve. The cuts on your face seem minor, but I'm worried about this gash on your chest." You said. You lifted your hands to his chest, looking him in the eyes to make sure it was okay to touch him. He nodded, and you pulled away the loose pieces of his suit where it had been cut.

"It already looks so much better than when I first saw you. But It still needs to be cleaned." You said.

"Yeah. The serum enhances healing too." He replied.

You grabbed an antiseptic and began cleaning the blood off his wound, but his suit kept sticking to it.

"Do you uh, think you could take this top off?"

He nodded, and slipped the top of his suit off, wincing as he lifted his arms. Next to him, Bucky stifled a small laugh.

"Hey, Ive got to check you for internal bleeding so yours is coming off next." You quipped with a smile.

Steve chuckled slightly, and then inhaled a sharp breath as your cold hands touched him again.

"You're freezing." He said.

"Yeah, I dunked myself in water before running out there to you guys. Didn't want to catch on fire." You stated, finishing up with Steve.

"You can shower if you want, and then I can put some medicine on those cuts on your face." You offered.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to put you out."

"Nonsense." You shook your head. "It's a huge house, and I live alone. Theres plenty of extra clothes and room around here."

You stood and grabbed one of your fathers shirts and pants out of the closet. He had been a big man, but got progressively smaller as he got sick, so you had clothes in almost every size. You got clothes that looked like they would fit Steve, and tossed them to him.

"The bathroom is in there, and there are towels under the sink. Have at it."

He smiled at you, and walked painfully to the door.

You grabbed a portable ultrasound machine from one of the medical boxes and turned to the other man.

"Bucky." you stated, "Take off your shirt."

"Yes mam." He smirked, but winced in pain just as Steve had. Unlike Steve, he did not have any open wounds on his body except for some cuts on his face. He did have several nasty bruises across his abdomen.

"Im just gonna make sure theres no internal bleeding or anything, and you can shower too if you like."

You looked to his eyes to make sure it was okay to touch him. He seemed more hesitant than Steve, like he did not trust anyone else to touch him. But then his eyes softened and he nodded.

Once you determined that he was fine, you grabbed some clothes for him as well. Similar to Steve's size.

"Theres another bathroom across the hall. It's the guest bathroom, but there are towels in there too."

He smiled at you and took the clothes and limped himself out of the room.

Once alone, except for the other unconscious Avengers, you placed your head in your hands. The adrenaline of the day finally wearing off. You were suddenly hyper aware of the pain in your shoulder and hand. You took some heavy dose ibuprofen, as you replayed the morning thoughts in your head. Then your heart dropped.

Thunder.

You had been so preoccupied with getting the Avengers to safety, you forgot he had been out there too. You ran outside, hoping that he hadn't bolted miles away with the explosion.

You found him, standing outside the barn. He was anxious, and you approached him slowly. He seemed to calm as you grew closer. You led him into the barn, rubbing his neck soothingly. You placed him back in his stall, next to Lucy, and put their blankets over both of them. You gave them both a hearty serving of food, as well as some sugar cubes. As you turned to leave, your eyes fell on your stack of firewood. It was dwindling low, and you hadn't had time to cut anymore. You decided you would start a fire, as you were still freezing from earlier, and you were sure the Avengers would appreciate some warmth as they healed. You gathered as much in your arms as you could, and headed back towards the house.

--

Steve exited the bathroom. The clothes you had given him fit him oddly. They hung loose in some spots, but then were slightly fitted around his muscular arms. He didn't mind though. He was comfortable. He was playing the events of the mission in his head.

He was so confused as to how they could've gotten it all wrong. They were infiltrating Hydra. With Bucky's inside information, they should've been able to take it all down. But somehow, Hydra was ready for them.

The fight was bloody, and the Avengers were losing. Hydra had been studying their every move, and somehow knew exactly when and how they would strike. After what felt like hours of fighting, they had decided to cut their losses and retreat. It was hard and shameful for them, but they knew they'd better leave and come back stronger rather than die there fighting an unfair fight. But Hydra's men had gotten one last dangerous promise in.

"We know everything about you, and were coming." They had said.

Steve shook at the memory.

When he entered the room, he counted three, still unconscious Avengers, and no you.

He was nervous. Had Hydra found them already? Had they found you first and hurt you? Steve ran out of the room and straight into Bucky, who was sporting the same wet hair look.

"Dammnit Steve Ow! I'm injured here." Bucky complained.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know is she not in there still?" Bucky asked.

"No! I don't know where she went, and you remember what they said, they-" Steve was growing slightly frantic. You had just spent forever trying to save them, only for it to put you in harms way.

"You don't think they.. you don't think they found us already?" Bucky asked, completely in tune to what Steve was worried about already.

"I don't know." Steve said somberly.

"And they would've gotten to her first." Bucky looked down the hallway. "We have to find her."

They both began running outside. Steve picked up his shield and Bucky grabbed his gun. They burst out the door.

"Woah! Hey! What's going on?" You said, stumbling backwards with arms full of firewood.

"Oh thank God." Bucky sighed, dropping his gun.

Steve reached out and steadied you from falling down the steps with your hands full.

"We thought.. We thought.. never mind." Steve stopped. He decided that not telling you about the dangerous army on the hunt for them was the better option.

"Everything is fine." You stated. "I was just gonna start a fire in the fireplace and get the house warmed up."

Steve's breathing finally evened out, and he took the wood from your arms.

"We'll help" He said, turning back inside.

"Where's the rest?" Bucky asked.

You pointed to the barn, and he headed out there to get more.

You followed Steve inside as he began starting the fire.

You decided to make yourself useful. You figured they'd all like something to eat, especially when the rest wake up, so you busied yourself in the kitchen. It was freezing outside, so you decided to make a large pot of hot soup and some bread.

As you were cutting up potatoes, your thoughts were at a million miles a minute. The Avengers were in your house. You didn't know why, but that show from Steve and Bucky made you believe something was wrong. Really wrong. You didn't know how long they'd be there, but you decided you'd take care of them as long as they needed.

They had saved the world so many times, you could be a gracious host for a little while.

What you didn't know, is that you were saving them, far beyond from pulling them out of the wreckage. You would become their saving grace, for each of them. You just didn't know how important you were about to become.

He met you at the darkest point in his life.

He had tossed his red and blue suit into the furthest corner of his closet.

His fridge consisted of freezer burnt, microwave dinners and beer.

His cabinets stayed bare, except for the occasional box of crackers and chips.

His sink stayed full of dirty silverware. His clothes littered the apartment, everywhere.

No one ever visited so what was the point?

But you.. just seeing you in the lobby of his apartment building had him picking up some of his clothes and washing them. He actually hung up his nice shirts and folded the rest, instead of living out of his dryer. He didn’t know why.

He started putting more hours in at the Daily Bugle, but not because he wanted to work. He was still so deeply buried in a hole of grief and self loathing.

But because you got home from the diner down the street at eleven pm every night, and he liked to be around at that time.

He started by just watching you from the roof of the building across the street. He’d watch as your heels clicked the concrete and your skirt would flow in the wind.

Sometimes you would pull your hair tie out and rub your scalp as you walked. He loved it when you did that. Your coat that you usually kept wrapped tightly around you would open, allowing his eyes to roll down the front of your body. Even from all the way up there, his enhanced vision allowed him to appreciate every curve of your -

Damnit Peter what is wrong with you? Stalking her from up here?

Before, your body would have been the furthest thing from his mind. Instead he would focus on the way your laugh managed to fill every room. The way your smile was contagious.

Except none of those things were true. He’d never heard you laugh, or even speak. He’d only caught glimpses of the weak smile you offered to the doorman of the apartment complex.

Your smile never even reached your eyes.

He’d hated the person he became, but what was the point in changing now. He might as well have a little fun while waiting for something that was probably never coming.

Soon, he started to walk in around the same time you would. Sometimes right before you, so maybe you’d notice him.

Sometimes right after you so he could watch you as you walked and interacted with the people around you.

He’d then decided he would go to the diner one night.

He entered, the smell of liquor hitting him- hard.

How could he not have realized this was a bar. Not a diner. You worked at a bar.

His eyes scanned the place. Women in short skirts and black blouses weaved around people, waiting on tables and delivering food and drinks.

Then he spotted you, behind the bar. You were the bartender. Your lower half was obscured by the bar itself, but your top didn’t match the others.

You had on a white blouse and black tie. He watched as you slid a glass of whiskey to a man a few seats down from where you were standing.

You smiled one of your coworkers, but from the front door, Peter could tell there was no energy behind it.

“Can I help you?” A woman stopped in front of him, holding a plate with two burgers.

“I uh- would like a seat at the bar.”

She gestured towards a sign.

“Welcome! Please Seat Yourself.”

“Ahh..” He breathed out, slightly embarrassed.

“Good luck with the bar though. It’s usually packed full on nights y/n works it.” The girl shrugged, walking away.

Peter spotted a seat in the corner of the bar. There was some space around it, so he wouldn’t be up against anyone.

He sat down, watching as you rung up someone’s tab for the night.

“Thanks darlin’” The man had smiled at you.

“Go on, get out of here Jeff, Ive got people waiting for your seat.”

“I’ll be right with you.” You stated when you noticed another bar spot had been filled. When you got Jeff all straightened out, you moved towards him.

He was handsome, in a dark, rugged sort of way. Upon closer inspection you realized he had dark circles under his eyes and an untamed stubble across his face.

“How may I help you?” You asked him.

“I’m uh- Peter.” He said. Your voice was smooth, and he felt like it cascaded down his body, causing him to shiver.

“Nice to meet you Peter. I’m y/n. Can I get you anything?”

“How about a beer?” He asked.

“Draft or bottle?”

“Uh.. draft.”

He watched as you reached down for a glass and grabbed the nozzle. You filled the glass and placed it in front of him. Before allowing him to take a sip you spoke again.

“ID?” You asked. He handed it to you and he watched as you studied it.

“Well Peter Parker, That’s 4.50. First refill is free. Then after that, every third refill is free.”

“Thank you.” He stated.

“Should I start you a tab?”

“Uh yeah, that would be great.” He said, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. You took his card and placed it in the book.

He watched as you poured shots, mixed drinks, and peeled random peoples hands off of you. He was in awe at how swiftly you were able to work in such a demanding environment.

“Refill?” You asked him for the fourth time that night.

“Please.” He smiled. He glanced at the time. It was nearing 10:30. He assumed you got off within the next twenty minutes because you always walked home, and managed to make it by 11.

“Alright. I’m just letting you know the bar closes in fifteen minutes, but the rest of the restaurant stays open if you’d like to sit in a booth.”

“Oh thanks.” He said. He wanted to say something else, but he didn’t know how you would react.

“You uh, you’re pretty good at this.” His futile attempt a complement left a blush creeping up your neck.

“And you’re pretty bad at hitting on bartenders.” You laughed.

“Oh god. I’m sorry- I just.. I live in the same apartment complex and I just wanted to maybe-.”

“It’s okay Peter. You’re cute. Maybe we could hang out sometime, but hanging around the bar I work at isn’t gonna get you anywhere.” Heat rose to his face as you continued.

“H-How about I walk you home?”

“I’d like that.”

-

That’s how last night had begun.

It ended with you, naked in Peter’s bed, his arm slung lazily across your waist.

Peter woke up before you, his arm still wrapped around you. He looked at you, each of your features intrigued him. The bridge of your nose, your cheeks, your jawline, your lips.

Oh god your lips.

He remembered the way they had first felt, standing on the hallway of his apartment, which coincidentally was the same hallway yours was on.

They were so soft under his. He remembered the way your lips had trailed down his neck as he ripped your clothes off in the doorway.

The way your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to his bed.

God you were beautiful. And even more beautiful with his marks up and down your body.

Then reality hit him like a bus.

He hadn’t even thought about merely kissing someone since Gwen, and now he had just woken up in bed, naked with you.

As if on cue, you began to stir. You woke up, your blurry vision working to adjust to the light coming from Peter’s window.

Wait.

Peter’s window?

Oh shit. You’d fallen asleep and slept over.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to stay. You were supposed to leave as soon as he was asleep and avoid him for the rest of the month.

Your eyes met his as you slowly sat up.

“H-hey..” He stuttered.

“I uh- I should get going.” You sat on the edge of bed, searching for your clothes, only to remember that they were on the floor at Peter’s door.

“Oh I’ll uh- go get your stuff.” Peter said, slipping on some boxers.

You sighed as you pulled the sheet up to cover your breasts.

He returned a moment later, your clothes in hand.

“That was uh-.”

“…yeah” You finished.

It was a mistake.

“I’m gonna shower.” Peter said, walking into his bathroom.

As soon as the door shut you were making a beeline for the the front door. You headed to your apartment, three doors down.

When the latch clicked you were on the floor in tears.

You felt guilty. So guilty. It felt so wrong, sleeping with someone after your boyfriend had died.

But it was four years ago, and you couldn’t hold onto that forever.

Sex with Peter was good. It was so good. You felt a connection with him that you hadn’t felt before, and it only made you feel more guilty.

You decided you couldn’t repeat what had happened. You couldn’t see Peter again.

-

The next week was spent peeking out your door before you left for work, and staying at the bar an extra twenty minutes. You were changing your schedule to avoid Peter at all costs.

The week was also filled with built up sexual tension.

When you haven’t had any action for four years and then sleep with someone who made you feel as good as Peter did, all you were left with was the feeling of wanting more.

Little did you know, Peter felt the same way. He wanted to see you so bad, but felt guilty for moving on without Gwen. So no matter how much he wished he had you in bed beside him, he avoided you at all costs. He was never outside his apartment near 11. He never went back to the bar.

It was seven pm on a Thursday. You’d managed to get today off. You were craving something you couldn’t have so you decided to drown it with a cheap bottle of wine. You threw on your coat and headed to the elevator. When you got to the bottom floor, the doors opened.

And to your fucking luck, Peter Parker stood in-front of you. You’d been taken so off guard your forgot to get off the elevator.

At first you stood in awkward silence.

“You left.” He startled you.

“Yeah I didn’t think you’d want your one night stand hanging around..” You chuckled.

“Who said I wanted you to be a one night stand?”

Heat flooded to your stomach. You didn’t say anything else as the elevator opened to your hallway. You walked down the hallway together, but when it came time for you to part ways.. you didn’t.

You stared at the ground for a moment before Peter’s fingers lifted your chin up to face him.

“What happened?” He asked.

“I’m not someone you want to get involved with okay? I’ve got way too much baggage.” You huffed.

“I’ve got plenty of my own baggage, y/n. And let me decide who I get involved with okay?”

He stepped closer, and your breath hitched.

“I’m no good for you..” You breathed out.

“And Im no good for you…” His lips grazed your jawline. “How about we..” he kissed your neck “be no good for each other?”

“Be a temporary fix?” You shuddered, your hands going up to grip his biceps.

“A temporary fix…” He said, his hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you to his apartment door.

“On one condition.” He said as you twisted the door knob behind him. “Don’t fall in love with me..”

“As long as you don’t fall in love with me Parker..”