#laylas3kball

You smile down at her sweet face, “Get your Mommy to sign this paper and it's a definite yes.” Knowing the trip will be hard to pull off without chaperones, you hope parents will read through the permission slips and volunteer. The PTA has a few members available, but a few more parents would be helpful. Watching Millie’s face fall, your brows furrow as you place a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Kneeling to her height, you listen intently.

“Mommy can’t sign it. I live with Daddy now.” Her words tumble out with disappointment instilled in each syllable. A huff of laughter escapes your nose. Looking at Millie with a happy smile, you encourage her.

“Your Daddy can sign it, Millie, you can still go if he does.”  You rub her shoulder for a second before standing again. “See you on Monday, kids!” Waving to the ones already leaving, you watch as the smile returns to Millie’s face, excited again. She mimics the roar of a Lion, fingers curling like claws as she attempts to scare a boy nearby her. This field trip will be fun, you think to yourself.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Walking into school on Monday, excitement bubbles in your heart as you get to see your students again. The weekend was rather quiet as the only thing you did was grade spelling tests. Before stopping at your classroom, you run by the office to make sure things are ready for your class’s field trip on Friday. Soon enough, you arrive at your classroom, prepping activities for the day.

After going over the day’s plans with the children, you leave them to color quietly for half an hour. The classroom filled with the sound of small hands rummaging through bins filled with the kids’ individual supplies. You waited patiently for everyone to be seated and asked them to get their permission slips out. Walking past each table, you collect the signed slips. The classroom fills with the sound of scribbling crayons against paper as you settle at your desk, scanning and sifting through all the forms, making sure they are signed; along with counting the boxes to see if any parents had volunteered to be chaperones.

Quietly sighing to yourself, you notice a handful of parents have volunteered to be chaperones. Grateful, there are now enough chaperones for the field trip. Looking at the top of one of the pages, you see Millie’s name scrawled in her handwriting. Smiling to yourself, your gaze drifts to her Father’s note:

Mrs. Y/L/N,

         The zoo sounds like a fun field trip! Hope you have room for one more? If so, please add me to the list, I’d be happy to help chaperone. Will lunch be provided for the chaperones?

                   Thanks,

                            -Steve Rogers (Millie's Dad)

Writing yourself a reminder on one of the sticky notes on your desk, you need to double-check on the lunches; adding on account of the new chaperones before you leave for the day. Hopeful that this field trip will go swimmingly, you look up at your quiet class, dutifully coloring in the sheets you’d given.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Soon enough Friday rolls around. It’s the perfect day for the zoo; sun shining brightly in the morning sky, clouds slowly float across the sky. Filing everyone off the bus, you ask the students to circle up in front of the zoo’s entrance.

“Okay class, we remember the rules, right?” With a joyful ‘yes’ from the majority, you split the kids into groups of five, calling them off by name, before assigning a parent. Four groups in total. Sending each chaperone off with their group, there is only one parent left behind.

Wearing jeans, a white t-shirt, and navy windbreaker, his dirty blond hair short and tidy. You stare for a few seconds too long, you can't deny he’s quite handsome. The other parents are married or older, and you know from Millie's ramblings and creative work that he is recently divorced. It’s refreshing to see a new face for a change, a single one, at that. You decide to stick with Mr. Rogers considering he’s the only new chaperone.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” you attempt to joke, offering your hand. He takes it, shaking it lightly with a firm yet gentle grip. His gaze meets yours and you notice he has the softest blue eyes. The color reminds you of Robin eggs.

“Steve,” he speaks confidently with a nod of his head.

“Y/F/N. We'll join groups since it’s your first time chaperoning.” You said, before telling him the rules for the kids while you rounded them up and heading into the zoo. “Where should we start?” You ask the group in front of you. The chirping of ideas is loud and insistent, but you want to know what Steve thinks.

“I think we should start on this side so we can walk back this way,” Steve opens the map for you, illustrating his ideas. Nodding your head in agreement, your group’s path is set in motion as you shepherd the kids towards the right. Walking along the east side of the zoo, you’ll loop around to visit the west side briefly before making a circle back at the entrance.

Heading towards the lions and tigers, the first animals on the walk, you listen to the exclamations and murmurs of the kids while admiring the zoo’s layout. Your gaze occasionally drifts to Steve, making you shake your head once you realize you’re staring.

Approaching the viewing area of the ‘Big Cat Enclosure’, you gather the children in front of the floor-to-ceiling observation window, prompting them to point out the cats they can find. You lean against the railing while the children search for the African animals. Steve stands next to you, watching the group for a moment before speaking.“What’s your favorite animal?”

Shaking your head with a light chuckle, you respond, “I’d have to say, Bumblebee,” you silently hope he doesn’t judge your choice.

“That’s interesting. You know it’s an insect though, right?” A blush quickly sweeps across your cheeks at his comment. Smart and handsome, who knew? You think, watching the Lions roam about a good several feet below everyone, the kids squealing in excitement. You hush them, reminding them to use their quiet voices.

“I suppose technically, they are. What’s your favorite animal? What’re you most excited to see?” Awaiting Steve’s answer, he is interrupted right as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Daddy! Look!” Millie tugs on the edge of his jacket, practically jumping for joy as she pointed out the nearby Tigers. He sent a glance your way, you smile in response to be polite. It was cute, the way they interacted with one another; he didn’t undermine her excitement or try to get her to keep it held within. Crouching down to his daughter’s height, he points out two Tigers in the shallow pool playing with one another.

“Elephants have always amazed me,” Steve admits, catching your attention and bringing your focus back to him. He smiles your way and you know he wasn’t trying to ignore you.

Moving onto the Reptile House, the group continuously ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed at every reptile, some of the girls grossed out. You found joy in asking your students to try and find the tiny tree frogs within their enclosure, camouflaged among the leaves. Arriving upon the insect area, you try to avert your gaze from the spiders, disliking them. Instead, focusing on the ladybugs and praying mantis’. “Maybe they’ll have a beehive here,” Steve suggested in a playful tone as he stood next to you, tilting his head while searching for the stick bug within the window in front of him. Smiling, you think he’s cute. “Ah! There he is.” Steve pointed out the stick bug to you, hand resting on your shoulder as he brought you closer to peer into the window. It’s fascinating, the slow, steady movements of the bug.

Nearing the exit of the Reptile House, you inform the group that it’s nearing lunch time. “We should pick a spot,” you suggested to Steve while holding the door open for exiting students. Receiving a nod in response, you pull the map out of your pocket. “Nearby the elephants is a picnic area, it says.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Steve responds happily. Following after the last student out of the Reptile House, you gather your group before announcing where you’re headed next. Trekking back to the bus, you quickly have everyone grab their lunches out of your group’s bin. The quick walk to the picnic area was joyous as the children chattered about their favorite animals and which was ‘cooler’ or would win in a fight. Sitting near the garden bed, you smile at the panda mosaic tiled into the entrance. Sitting your lunch on the table, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Steve sitting across from you. “Is this seat taken?” He was obviously joking, you knew.

Laughing, you shake your head, inviting him to sit. “I’m afraid not. Looks like this is the grown-ups table,” you return his silly attitude before pulling your sandwich out, lying it on top of the brown paper bag. Chips, an apple, and milk are what’s in store. Opening the chip bag, you begin to quietly chomp on them while enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of the zoo.

“I brought you something!” Millie’s voice brings you back to the present as she hands her father a juice box. “Your favorite,” she spoke cheerily. The interaction made you smile, getting a glimpse of their world. Unwrapping the plastic surrounding your sandwich, you dig in.

The day passes much more quickly than you would’ve liked. Shepherding the kids onto the bus, you thank the other parents as they board. Stepping onto the bus last, you overhear the few people in front of you. “Can I sit with you?” It’s Millie’s hopeful voice.

A chuckle rings out, making your heart flutter knowing who it came from. “Mills, you should sit with your friends! You’re not gonna see them for the whole weekend.” Steve’s encouragement made you smile at the way he speaks with his daughter. Watching Millie swiftly agree and walk further back on the bus where her friends were indeed waiting, you look for a seat. Feeling someone’s hand catch your forearm, your brows furrow until you turn to see Steve with a wide grin on his face. “I saved you a seat,” he offered slyly.

“Oh, thank you.” Surprise laces your reply; a small smile makes its way onto your lips, blush coating your cheeks. Sitting beside him, you run your hands along your pants, smoothing them. “It was nice to have you as a chaperone,” you attempt small talk.

“Thanks for having me,” Steve chuckles as his face turns from the window to face you. His smiles seems to brighten his eyes. “I had a great time. Plus, a free lunch!” His face scrunches up for a moment, “well, really there is no such thing as a ‘free lunch’, but that’s beside the point,” he rambles. Noticing you still have his attention, Steve speaks up again. “Would you be open for getting coffee sometime? Or tea, if that’s your thing.”

He used his right hand to tuck some hair behind his ear. “It’s Bucky, actually.”

You stood from your stool behind the counter and held out a hand as you introduced yourself. “I’m the one you spoke to on the phone.”

He nodded and pushed the rest of his hair from his face as he gave you a weak smile. You clenched your teeth together to keep from physically gasping. The man was gorgeous. Sure, he was troubled. It was clear in his gaze and the dark circles under his eyes. He needed a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, but he had that dark, rough look you were always drawn to. “You come highly recommended,” he said, pulling your attention back where it needed to be.

You obviously needed a date if you were drooling over the cliental. That wasn’t your usual MO. “Tony Stark, right?”

Once again, he nodded. While there were several talented artists that worked in your shop or visited on occasion, your personal specialty was covering scars.  After the billionaire Stark had been hurt in some sort of explosion, he had sought you out.  The rather nasty looking scar on his chest was now covered with a bio-mechanical tattoo. The bright blue you used in the center made it almost appear to glow. You were extremely happy with how that piece turned out.

And apparently so was he since he was sending his friends to you. You motioned to Bucky to follow you to the back and pulled a chair up next to your drawing table. You’d already come up with a quick sketch based on the brief conversation you’d had on the phone. It would need to be fleshed out for sure but you wanted to give him an idea of what you were thinking.

“Can I see?” you asked gesturing at his left arm.

He slid off his jacket and revealed the extensive scarring of his left arm. A car accident, he’d told you. Severe burns and skin grafts had left the tissue there mottled and rough. “How much feeling do you have in that arm? Are the nerves completely gone or…” you trailed off knowing he got the gist of what you were trying to ask.

“I don’t feel much. It’s almost like it’s not there sometimes.” His tone was near emotionless, but that wasn’t unusual. He probably was asked similar things all the time from friends and strangers alike.

“Like we talked about on the phone, scar tissue can hurt more or less. It’s hard to tell until we get started. The ink will most likely absorb unevenly and it will take several sessions to make sure we get it to look the best it can. Are you prepared to stick with me through all that?”

He nodded once, his hair falling back in his face with the movement. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grinned at him, happy to hear it. “Good. I was thinking something like this. Tell me what you think.” You slid a piece of paper in his direction and watched his eyes light up.

He glanced up at you with a real, genuine smile, the first you’d seen since he entered your shop. “It’s perfect. I love it.” He held the drawing of his future tattoo carefully, staring at it in awe. When you were finished his scars would be covered with black and gray ink and his arm would look as if it was made up of metal plates instead of marred skin. His eyes darted back over to meet your gaze. “Can you really do this?”

“I need to do a more accurate drawing taking your proportions into account, but I will make it look the best I can. I think you’ll be surprised when we’re finished.”

—

You stayed with Tony for a while, but you soon left because as much as he tried to not do it, he always seemed to bring up how you followed Steve and are now living with him. It hurt you because that was never your intention. You soon found an apartment that wasn’t too bad on rent and it wasn’t all that far from the compound. You hadn’t heard from Steve in two years and it was hard to live every day without hearing from him. You didn’t even know if he was alive or not. Your mind would sometimes wonder to if he still thought about you like you did him, but you always fund a way to busy yourself when those negative thoughts made their way into your mind.

After two years of being on your own, you got used to your routine. You’d go to work at 9am, get home by 5pm, get dinner happening at 6, then relax until you were tired. Your day was sort of like a broken record; always on repeat, nothing ever changing. So, today wasn’t unusual. You did your thing, but at about 9pm your routine was disrupted. A knock on your front door took your attention away from the movie on your TV.

‘Who is it?’ You called looking at the door. No one responded so you put your attention back to the movie. Another knock happened, but this time it was louder. You sighed and got up, taking your gun and walking to your door. You unlocked the door and opened it quickly pulling the gun with you. ‘Steve! What the hell? You scared me.’ You breathed throwing the gun on the couch and wrapped your arms around his neck. ‘I’m so happy it’s you.’ You whispered against his neck. You could feel him relax under your touch as he wrapped you tightly against himself.

‘Let’s get inside.’ He mumbled. You nodded and grabbed his hand, pulling him inside before closing the door.

‘Coffee?’ You ask as he looks around your apartment.

‘That’d be great thanks.’ You smile and start making coffee for the both of you. You soon felt his arms wrap around your waist as you reached up for cups. He nuzzled your neck and breathed you in. ‘I really missed you.’ He said quietly against your neck.

‘You could've called.’ You said a little sharply. You didn’t mean to lose your temper, but he did leave you two years ago and never even tried to contact you.

‘It wasn’t safe.’ You turned around and gave him a cup.

‘Let’s talk on the couch. There’s a lot we need to talk about.’ You suggest.

‘Yes, starting with what you’re doing here and not in Tony’s care.’ You rolled your eyes and headed over to the couch sitting in the corner of it.

‘Before you get angry, Tony was really hurt by my decision. I couldn’t hurt him anymore than I already did, and staying with him was killing him. I could see it.’ You took a sip of your warm drink before a question popped into your head. ‘How’d you know where I was?’

‘Do you seriously think I would leave you without any protection for such a long period of time doll? I needed to make sure you were okay.’ Steve swiped away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You were so vulnerable right now.

‘Why are you back Steve? It’s not safe for you yet.’ Steve nodded his head as he tucked a stand of your hair behind your hair and took your cup from your hands, placing both his and yours on the table, then took your hands in his.

‘There’s a guy named Thanos trying to wipe out half of humanity. He needs all the Infinity Stones to do so.’

‘And you came here to ask for my help?’ You asked, a smile crossing your face.

‘Not exactly.’ You quirked an eyebrow as your smile started to fade. ‘I came by because I’ll need to go and help them fight, and I couldn’t go without seeing you again in case, well—’

‘—You don’t make it.’ You finish, avoiding eye contact.

‘Look, Y/N—’

‘Maybe I can come and help Steve. I mean, it never hurt to have another hand right?’ Steve looked at you with desperate eyes.

‘I can’t have you get hurt in this fight Y/N.’

‘Because I’ll become a liability?’ You asked sighing. Steve shook his head quickly.

‘No! I can’t bare to watch you get hurt because I’ve asked you to come help.’

‘Well, I’m stubborn as hell Steven. I’m coming!’ You start to argue with him, and you can tell he’s in no form to argue right now. ‘You know what Steve?’ Your voice softened and he looked at you with a sadness in his eyes. ‘You need rest. Sleep here tonight. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I’ll take couch.’ You smile slightly getting up to grab blankets, but Steve pulls you down back to him.

‘I haven’t seen you in two years Y/N.’ His voice sounded strained and it definitely tucked on your heart strings. You bite your lip then take his hand in yours and pull him up from the couch.

‘My room’s this way.’ That night was possibly one of the best you’ve ever had. It was full of love, want and need. It was a feeling you had never experienced before, and there were emotions you never knew you even held. Being curled up in Steve’s embrace you realised the most important thing, Steve loved you. Although you had never exchanged the words, he did love you and you loved him. But you weren’t going to think of the possible outcomes of the fight. You couldn’t bring yourself down from this high on purpose. Not tonight. So instead, you whisper the three words that hung between the two of you. ‘I love you.’ Steve’s gaze on you is softer than you have ever seen it before. ‘I love you so much Steven Grant Rogers and I really don’t want to lose you. You made a promise last time, and you kept it, you’re back. Please don’t go! Please just stay here and keep me safe. Like you wanted!’ Steve hushed you and kissed your forehead.

‘I love you Y/N, so so much, words cannot express how strong my feelings towards you are, but the world is counting on me.’

‘I don’t care Steve! I’m counting on you too. But the world doesn’t have to live without you in the way I do! They’ll miss Captain America, I’ll miss Steve Rogers!’ You couldn't keep the tears away anymore.

‘Please doll, stop crying. I’m not going anywhere tonight. Let’s talk about everything when the sun rises.’ You nod your head against Steve’s chest and snuggle as close to him as possible, hoping he’ll decide to stay.

—

You wake up to Steve’s arms wrapped around your naked waist. His face nuzzling your neck. You feel a warm sensation form in yourself and you smile to yourself. You shift so you’re face to face with Steve. He’s just waking up now too and your smile grows. He’s always up before you so it was nice to be up before him for a change. ‘Good morning.’ You whisper. He pulls you ever so close to him.

‘Morning doll. How I missed waking up like this.’ You peck his nose and giggle at how he pulls away for a second.

‘We should get up.’ You start to untangle yourself from Steve but he quickly pulls you back.

‘5 more minutes.’ He whispers, holding onto you tightly. You easily give into his request. A couple of hours later, you awake to an empty, cold bed. You pull on your robe and saunter into the kitchen. ‘Breakfast?’ Steve asks you all too quickly, setting a plate down in your spot. Your heart drops. You know what he’s doing. You only now realise he’s in his uniform again.

‘You’re leaving me? Again? After everything we talked about last night? Steve—’

‘I get your points Y/N, I really do, but the Avengers need my help. I was called for a reason, and that wasn’t to sit on my ass until this is all over.’ You wished you could mock him by saying ‘language’, but you can’t bring yourself to laugh.

‘What happens if you don’t come home Steve? What happens if you do get hurt and I don’t know? What happens if I’m waiting years for you to come back, only to find out that you’re dead. That you’re never coming back home?’ Tears start to fall rapidly.

‘Better me than you.’ He starts to walk to the door but you beat him to it, standing in front of it and pressing your back to it.

‘No! No it’s not better! Because I’ll miss you. I have for two years already, and I’m not ready to give you back to the ungrateful world!’ He sighed and tried to touch you on the cheek, but you pull away.

‘I have to go.’ He says quietly.

‘No. No, I won’t let you.’ You say stubbornly. He sighs and pulls you away from the door. He opens the door. ‘You walk out the Rogers, and I swear that I wont forgive you for this.’ You both knew it was a lie, but he knew what he had to do.

‘I love you Y/N.’ He said before closing the door behind him.

‘WHY IS IT SO EASY FOR YOU TO KEEP LEAVING ME!?’ You scream throwing the closes glass thing at the door, before slumping against it not caring about the way the glass cut you. None of it added up to the pain you were feeling in your heart. You did forget that Steve could hear what happened. It killed him, but this was the right decision. Right?

—

When that snap happened and people started to turn to dust, it hurt everyone. One again, Steve lost Bucky. His heart shattered at the thought of losing his best friend over and over and over again. Each time hurt more and more. His mind then went straight to you. How the hell could he get to New York now? It didn’t matter, because before he knew it, he was at your doorstep. He knocked. You didn’t answer. It wasn’t like the first time where you answered with a question and he didn’t answer, no, this time it was reversed. ‘Y/N? Are you there?’ No answer, so he knocked down your door. You weren’t in the kitchen, living room. Maybe you were asleep. Or you were curled up in a ball under layers of covers. He entered your room and you were there; just in dust.

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“Talk about what? You’ve been going out to bars and drinking until god knows when and now I catch you with some girl!” you continued your mission of getting to your bedroom so you could break down in peace.

“C’mon doll. It was an accident.”

That stopped you dead in your tracks and you whipped around to face him.”

“An accident? Is that what you’re going with?”

Bucky started to speak but you cut him off.

“Because an accident, James, is when you buy the wrong milk,” you said, moving back down the stairs towards him.

“An accident,” you continued, “is forgetting to take the trash out so the bins sit around for another week. An accident is locking your keys in the car. An accident is not you putting your dick in another girl!” you yelled, shoving him in the chest.

“It never went that far!”

“Oh good! My husband didn’t fuck some other girl, he just kissed her. Do you want a trophy?” you asked sarcastically.

“No!” he replied, exasperated. “I want you to listen to me!”

“Listen to you? Bucky I am always here and I am always listening. And that’s how we’ve been since day one. I have been patient and understanding but I can’t be those things for you right now!”

“Maybe I never wanted that! Maybe I wanted some fucking space every once in a while!”

“You want space Bucky? Fine! Take all the damn space you need.”

“No baby stop please,” he said, reaching out to grab your wrist in an attempt to keep you near him.

“God, Y/N. I didn’t want this. Us fighting in the middle of the night. How did we get here?”

You sighed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know Buck. But it can’t be like this. I cannot keep living like this. For months it feels like I’ve been walking on eggshells in my own house. But you have got to figure out who you’re gonna be in this relationship because this version of you does not work for me. Do you understand what I’m saying to you Bucky? One more night like this and I promise you, I’m out the door without a second thought.”

You left Bucky in the living room and retreated upstairs to your bedroom.

The next morning, you woke up to breakfast and Bucky apologizing and promising he would be the husband he had sworn he would be. And for a few days, he was. Until about a week later, he came home drunker than you had ever seen him with a smudge of lipstick on the collar of his shirt. A lipstick that definitely didn’t belong to you. That night- you didn’t fight. You got him all set up on the couch, setting out a glass of water and a few aspirins for when he woke up the next morning.

You sat on the coffee table and stared at his sleeping form for a moment. How had you both fallen so far? You had been so in love for so many years and you were still in love with him, but you had to protect yourself. Bucky clearly didn’t want to be your husband anymore and you couldn’t be the only one fighting for your relationship.  

You sighed in defeat and kissed his forehead as you got up and then went to bed alone- again.

The next morning, Bucky woke up with a pounding headache and a gut feeling that something was wrong.

He immediately got up and searched the house but couldn't find you anywhere. He wouldn’t usually be worried but he realized some of your stuff was gone. Not a lot of your things, but some important ones. The book that had been on the bedside table, a picture of your grandparents that was handing in the hall, and most importantly, the photo that you had brought home a few months ago that had found a spot of honor on the fridge.

While Bucky was searching the house, looking for any trace of where you had gone to, you were already across the city. The wind whipped through your hair as you rested your hand on your stomach.

“I guess it’s just me and you now little one.”

Sam Wilson isn’t a spy, those types of things --lying and deceiving people-- isn’t his sort of thing. So, he isn’t exactly sure how he ended up in a covert, undercover mission with one of the newer S.H.I.E.L.D recruits in an underground nightclub.

Oh, wait. He can remember both and Maria and Nat saying---

“Out of the three of you soldiers, you would blend in the most.”

Of course he would compared to two super soldiers from the 1940’s, as much as he hated to admit it. However, he didn’t know that he would have to suffer in this mission as he watched his current partner walk around the small space that they were sharing in something that really couldn’t be called dancing , while listening to a cover of one of his favorite songs -- a cover that sang it very badly.

“You know there’s a better version to that song,” Sam states, smiling as she jumps at his intrusion. She laughs and asks what he is talking about, which causes Sam to shake his head. He knew her powers had caused her to miss out on a lot of music, but informing people on the wonders of the Supremes, Marvin Gaye, and Earth, Wind, and Fire just seemed like something that had been added to his field of expertise since meeting Steve Rogers.

“Oh, yeah,” she remarks. Her attention completely on him now, “Well, show me then, birdman!”

She keeps laughing, and Sam has to remember it’s just acting.

 You had been on this mission longer than Sam. There were potential secrets and weapons being trade in a nightclub, where you had been working as a temp and gathering information, in New York and Director Hill had assigned you to this as your first real mission as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, though you were sure it was more due to your set of powers.

“Could you turn that down a bit?” you ask politely to the barista as they nod. You scratch the back of your left ear in annoyance before chugging down your second cup of coffee.

You had been here half an hour early after Director Hill had told you that you were getting a partner for this mission -- a real music expert that could help with your sensitivity issues, but the thing that worried you the most was that they were an Avenger.

You, a novice S.H.I.E.L.D with just a minor enhancement working with an Avenger -- well, you just hoped that you didn’t mess it all up. You thumb your fingers lightly on the old wooden table, as the song that was bothering you changes to something a bit softer that strikes a chord with you, which not much music does. You’re painfully ignorant to the bell chiming and a certain Avenger coming closer to your table, as you pull out the Shazam app from your phone -- hopeful that it will tell you who sings the song.

Someone chuckles next to you and for a brief second everything that was popping and bright comes to a screeching halt, as the voice immediately starts to grate your eardrums in the worst sort of way.

“You know there’s a better version to that song, right?” he asks with a jovial smile, as yours disappears. Warm, brown eyes are filled with amusement, but all you hear is wasps buzzing in your ears.

“Um...could you not talk so much please?” you look up and quickly regret your words as you see who is in front of you, though he is just shaking his head in amusement.

And that’s how you first meet Sam Wilson.    

Where did our love go - Soft Cell/The Supremes

“You know, there’s a better version of this song, right?” Sam asks once again, as you frown at the sound of his voice once more. Much to your embarrassment and relief, he understood why his voice annoyed you and how he had to help you, especially when it came to music. This was connected to the current song playing in the background.

The bar that the two of you that the two of you were going to infiltrate had an eclectic mix of music and while your enhanced ability of hearing would be a great help in catching what different people talked about, it also came with a great setback of sensitivity to certain timbres and tones that could leave incapacitated for days on end.  Sam had been brought in to help with that, among other things though it wasn’t helping when you even found his voice to be annoying. However, the man was known for his endless patience.

It takes him three days of humming and softly playing the old track for you to fully start getting used to it.

“Didn’t I tell you there was better version,” Sam can’t help the grin on his face as he catches you humming the song while you are supposed to be doing surveillance. A small triumph, along with you slowly getting used to his voice.   

“Shut it, Wilson,” you let out good naturedly with a laugh before going back to looking outside, though Sam can’t help but keep looking at you for a good while.  

My Guy - Mary Wells   

It’s two more weeks of surveillance and getting you used to more music: introducing a cover that you might like before brining the original in. It’s a mix of old and new sounds that you have never heard of before. It’s getting irritated and sick in the aftermath, but Sam always keeps telling you to breathe, as you focus solely on him as you try to regain the world around you and sometimes sitting in the bathroom, hoping that you don’t throw up tonight’s dinner.

“ Hey, hey, breathe. Take your time ,” Sam murmurs as you drive yourself into a cold sweat.

It’s another week and you fully go in as one of their new bartenders, one of your informants giving you the hook-up and pass to come in. You try to get used to the music, to the thrumming and yells of patrons, while trying to hone in on one little detail that might get you some information -- multitasking like this is hard as hell with you nearly collapsing when you get to the small apartment that you have recently moved into once your shift is over.

It’s sleeping the day away until you wake up at noon for a debrief with waffles and a new song softly playing in the background. You work and work the same routine for another 3 weeks until you finally hear it over the bass and pounding that leaves you tired but oh so happy when you head back to where Sam is.

“The docks,” you says deliriously before you pass out, “The man with the handlebar moustache.”

All you remember from the night is Sam laughing at your antics, but the sound and its chiming doesn’t leave your head for weeks.

It’s then that the ball really starts to get rolling, as you introduce Sam as your boyfriend to the people that you work for and with his easycharm and cosmetic changes thanks to the wonders of S.H.I.E.L.D tech, he is simply known as Danny -- a boyfriend that doesn't work as much as his gal, but loves her just a little too much and has to keep an eye out for her. It’s a strange story in your eyes, but they buy it and he comes in later in the night when you work, watching from a dark section of the club.

You just didn’t know how popular you had become in your short stint at the bar, as one night a drunk man comes to you, asking for your name and tells you all sweet nothings that only a drunk could murmur. It didn’t bother you, but it did get annoying after awhile, especially the raspy quality of his voice -- like chalk on a black board and maybe from afar Sam noticed that as you see him walk towards the man.

You try your hardest to not listen into their conversation until you hear the sound of your fake name through the sound of the sweet, old song playing. Sam is shaking his head, the drunk watching, as you grabs his hand tightly. Eyes burning like it’s the only thing he cares about.  

“This is my sugar boy , Danny,” you laugh at the name with a polished line that had been drilled into your brain over the past couple of weeks.  

“Sorry, man. She’s taken,” Sam shrugs before giving you a kiss on the temple across the countertop that you can’t but smile for a moment, as the nameless guy groans before leaving you two of you alone.

“Thanks.”

“Anything for my clueless sweetheart.”

September - Earth, Wind, and Fire.

I should be thanking you, ya know? Nobody has the type of patience you have with me and this irritability. It’s kind of nice.

Sam knows that he supposed to be paying attention to those two guys in the dark corner of the bar, but he can’t help but grin at the sight of you rocking back and forth to the song in the bar. It had taken you three days to get used to the rhythm of the bass and a day and a half to the chorus as it hit the upper note without you collapsing like before. He had you dancing to it just a few hours ago and he couldn’t be prouder.  

He see you glance at him with a questioning look, as you motion for him to go back to his job. However, it’s in that moment that you freeze before grabbing your earlobe, signaling that you have heard something to Sam.

“Underneath the Hudson,” is what he manages to make out.  

It’s going to be a long night and couple of weeks to set the raid, but he surely won’t forget you dancing underneath the bright lights of the club anytime soon.   

 The information you two pick up that night is good. It’s just in the aftermath, the mission to pick the weapons where everything goes down the crapper. People are hurt, but the weapons are there -- safe and sound for S.H.I.E.L.D. The people that own the club disappear prematurely and there aren’t any real arrest made.

Your first mission end in half a disaster, though it is enough for Director Hill to say she is proud of you. Natasha is another story though and in all that mix of misery and relief and the missions that all come piling afterwards, you sort of forget about Sam Wilson.

That is until everyone else’s voice is just static and there’s only one that you really want to hear again, though you don’t know it that’s possible. After all, you’re just a rookie S.H.I.E.L.D agent that has fallen in love with an Avenger.  

 Tired of Being Alone - Al Green

Sam is a soldier his core, so all this sneaking around and gathering information tires him out for several days after he returns to the Compound. Everyone welcome him in their own way and Sam is sure that the investigation will move on without him. He moves forward with new missions, running in the morning with Steve, playing pranks on Bucky, and the day-to-day he’s used.

He’s an autopilot for days, though nobody says anything on the subject. It isn’t until one morning, as it’s his turn to make breakfast and as his music starts to filter in with the smell of pancakes, eggs, and bacon that Steve finally decides to ask.

“Is that a new song?” Steve questions, as Sam’s cell phone plays a familiar song though by a different person.

“Is there something on your mind?” Steve questions in a concerned tone, “You have been out of it lately.”

Sam chuckles, quickly realizing what he had been trying to avoid: “More like someone.”

There was usual a laugh and cruel remark to his music that he was missing, he knew that now.  

Stay By Me - Florence + The Machine/Ben E. King

Sam plans on doing something about the whole situation but missions and other things get piled on top of him as more time passes him by. However, his three nosy friends are already ahead of him since Nat had seen the way you were acting back at S.H.I.E.L.D HQ and it was all brought up during one of their movie nights when Sam was on a mission with Wanda and Clint, where they both agreed if anyone needed some lovin -- it was Sam Wilson.

Fast forward to you being invited to one of those Stark parties that Nat always talked about, as she drags you to the bar where a certain birdman is leaning on the countertop with a certain blond supersoldier, and while you would usually have your eyes on the greatest superhero that had lead you to become an agent in the first place, your eyes are completely on the man that made you laugh and that had handled your annoying tendencies so well all those months back.

Warm brown eyes are slowly on you --and that stunning black dress you are wearing-- as Nat drags Steve away, not that the two of you notice.  

“Hey” he asks, motioning to his ear, “Is all this noise all right with you?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’ve gotten better at handling with some help.”

Sam can’t help but grin and for awhile he is all right with standing there, until he sees the former Winter Soldier talk to the band playing. He can’t help but think this is going to be connected to him, especially when blue eyes meet his and Bucky grins before heading back into the shadows.   

“Oh,” he hears you exclaims softly, “I know this song.”

Of course, you did and Sam then understood what his old supersoldier friends were trying to do for him as he goes to stand in front of you and ask you to dance. You’re surprised, but only for a moment before eagerly agreeing to.  

The familiar tune begins to filter in, though the voice is female and slightly higher than the original tune. You smile at him, as Sam shakes his head, however he doesn’t seemed annoyed by this version of the song as the other covers you had made him listen before. You give him a soft smile before diving head first into whatever is going to happen to the two of you next after this.

“It’s really annoying, ya know?” you start off while staring at your feet, as Sam keeps swaying you back and forth, “I’ve gotten so used to your voice. Everyone else’s just seems to irritate me now.”

“Oh, really?” Sam can’t help but laugh, teasing you just a bit, “Are you saying I should be spending more time with you?”

“Yeah,” you nod, as you motion to your ear with your free hand for added emphasis, “It’s kind of like a life and death sort of thing, sugar boy. ”

“Well, if you put it like that…” Sam dips you with his laughter echoing throughout the whole room, as he brings you back up only to answer,  “I’ll think about it.”

You can’t help but groan. He keeps laughing, at your words coming back to haunt you, though after a couple of days of thinking about it, but not really -- Sam finally asks you on a date.