Stucky's daughter

46

As I stirred from my slumber, an idea sparked within me, compelling me to rise. Bruce, observing my movement, questioned, "Hey, y/n, what are you doing?"

With a newfound determination, I replied, "I had an idea!"

Curiosity evident on his face, Bruce inquired further, "What is it?"

Excitement bubbling within me, I suggested, "Well, you know how the doors are always locked? Maybe we could create a bracelet or devise a test to alert everyone when I'm feeling unwell... something that makes a noise or triggers a signal."

Bruce's eyes widened, and he chuckled, "Funny you should mention that... I had the same idea."

Playfully, I quipped, "Guess I must be reading your mind then." Laughter echoed between us as we set out to construct the bracelet, a joint effort to ensure my well-being. The mechanism would produce a sound whenever I vomited, alerting those nearby to come to my aid.

With the bracelet complete, we proudly showcased it to everyone, and I proceeded to secure it around my wrist. The previously locked doors were now open, allowing me to ascend the stairs and change into a shirt belonging to Steve, pairing it with my own trousers.

Bucky, catching sight of my attire, exclaimed dramatically, "Oh no! You...you changed into Dad's shirt?! What have I done to deserve this?"

Amidst laughter, we shared a warm embrace, reassuring each other of our love. Bruce and Wanda approached me a few minutes later, Bruce reiterating his intention to retake my temperature.

As he placed the thermometer, I relaxed, sensing his gentle care. This time, my temperature read 37.9. Wanda sat down beside me, offering a comforting bowl of soup, while Bucky tenderly fed me, his attentiveness filling me with warmth.

With a proud smile, Bucky declared, "See, doll? You made it!"

Grateful, I returned his embrace, the love between us palpable. At that moment, Steve entered the room, his eyes filled with pride upon seeing that I had consumed the entire bowl of soup. United, we descended the stairs, only to find my phone buzzing with a text from Liz and her friends.

Liz's cruel words flashed before my eyes as I read her message: "Hi, fatty!"

An initial shock transformed into apathy as I responded, "What..."

Her subsequent message carried a venomous sting, "Nothing. Just wanted to say that you are useless and fat!"

Unwilling to engage further, I blocked her contact and turned my attention to my dads. Concern flickered in their eyes as they sensed my distress. Steve took charge, regaling us with funny stories from past missions, filling the room with laughter.

However, Tony interjected, reminding us that tomorrow, on the 10th of February, we had an important mission. The weight of the date resonated within me, for it marked my birthday.

Steve hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. "Um, I don't know... It's y/n's birthday, and we can't..."

Cutting him off, I mustered a feeble smile and interrupted, "It's okay. I don't particularly enjoy celebrating my birthday anyway."

A mixture of shock and sadness washed over the faces of those present, but I reassured them, expressing my contentment with their decision. Tony voiced his reservations, emphasizing the mission's significance, but I remained resolute in my stance.

Bid goodnight by all, I retreated upstairs, slipping into my bed. Alone in the darkness, tears welled up within me, yearning to be with my dads on this significant day.

After an hour passed, the door swung open, catching me off guard. My weeping ceased as Steve cautiously approached, followed by Bucky. In hushed tones, Steve wondered, "Do you think she's asleep?"

Bucky replied, his voice tinged with regret, "Yeah..."

A moment of silent understanding passed between them as Steve whispered, "I want to stay here..."

Bucky's response, heavy with longing, echoed in the room, "Me too... but we can't..."

Steve, burdened by the weight of my past, continued, "I know, but her mom died on her birthday. She loved her, and her dad took her life..."

Bucky nodded in solemn agreement, acknowledging the painful truth. "I know the whole story, okay? But we can't change what's already been done."

Steve's final words were filled with love, "Yeah... I love you."

In a tender embrace, Bucky reciprocated, "Love you more, honey..."

Their lips met briefly, the silent promise of their affection. Unbeknownst to them, I lay awake, struggling to stifle my sobs. Sensing my distress, they gently shook me awake, and Bucky wrapped me in a comforting embrace.

My tears continued to flow, fueled by memories and unspoken longing. Bucky, desperate to soothe my pain, began to hum a soft melody. Gradually, the trembling in my body subsided, and eventually, I succumbed to exhaustion, finding solace in his arms.

As I drifted into a fitful sleep, thoughts of my mother consumed me, tears staining my pillow.