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It wasn’t mean to be this way.
That’s what Amber thinks when she wakes up for the third time that week, movement to her side pulling her out of sleep and forcing her to act. She rolls out of bed with practiced ease, landing on the hardwood of their New York City apartment with the grace of someone who has tumbled down elevator shafts and jumped out of planes for her entire life. Falling out of bed is easy.
“Alysa,” Amber starts, knowing that’s the easiest way to begin this moment.
Sometimes that’s all it takes, a simple whisper of her name, a soft word in the dark that would’ve never been used in her past.
But not tonight.
As Amber lifts her head and turns her chin towards the bed, she sees a thin ring of brown around Alysa’s pupils, her chest heaving and her shoulders wrought with tension.
“Alysa.” Amber tries again, with more authority this time, conviction laced through her tone.
Nothing.
Instead, she watches the metal in Alysa’s left arm flex and ripple with intent to harm.
Despite that, Amber still lifts herself off the floor and slowly climbs back into bed. Alysa reacts instantly, reaching out to wrap her hand around Amber’s throat.
But Amber is faster, and ducks out of the way just in time to miss the grab. She maneuvers her head to the side, and pushes forward with her hips, seating herself behind Alysa before the other girl can blink. Alysa grabs blindly for her, but Amber doesn’t bother to even attempt to move out of the way. She lets Alysa’s hand find purchase on the back of her head, gripping the hair there.
All the while, she reaches around to catch Alysa’s neck in her arm, the crook of her elbow pressing flush against her throat. Amber’s other arm supports the choke hold, gripping tightly around her wrist to increase the pressure there. She can feel the rapid pace of Alysa’s pulse from where her bicep is pressing against her skin.
Alysa thrashes in her grip, tugging painfully on her roots, and Amber knows she only has a few seconds before she’s overpowered entirely.
“Baby, it’s okay, you’re okay, wake up, you’re safe,” Amber’s lips are pressed against Alysa’s ear, her words whispered with a hurried desperation, suppressing a wince of pain underneath.
She lets out a gentle sigh of relief when Alysa’s body slowly goes limp in her grip.
Then she prepares herself for damage control.
“I’m — fuck…Am, I didn’t…” All the aggression from just a moment ago is gone, replaced with guilt so heavy that Alysa can’t speak around it.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, just breathe for me, I’m right here,” Amber hums gently, finally dropping her grip, her hands shifting to Alysa’s hips, tugging her in close. Alysa’s hand lets go of her hair and withdrawals quickly like she’s been burned.
Breathing comes back slowly, the adrenaline from the moment slowly releasing from both their systems.
Amber traces soft patterns into Alysa’s skin, finger tips dancing along the edge of her shirt and slipping underneath to press grounding touches to her stomach. Alysa’s hands rest on top of Amber’s own, the feel of warm skin against cold metal a comforting and familiar contrast.
Amber pushes her nose into Alysa’s neck, leaving soft kisses and nuzzles there, gentle words sealing them into her lover’s skin. She continues this until Alysa is boneless against her, until all the fight has finally drained out of her, until the tears have finally stopped.
“Sorry, I’m sorry I,” Alysa tries but Amber doesn’t entertain it.
“None of that, it’s okay, I got you, I love you, do you hear me Alysa? I love you,” Amber says, the words pressed into Alysa’s neck.
“I love you too,” She breathes out, the words strained but real.
“I know you do, it’s okay, can you go back to sleep for me?” Amber asks, gentle as ever.
“I think…maybe,” Alysa admits.
“Okay, well let’s just try okay? You need rest,” Amber offers, no force behind it.
“Okay,” Alysa responds.
Amber moves slowly, movements predictable and visible, communicating her intent without words. She shifts her body to the side, her weight pulling Alysa with her, the action fluid and familiar. Alysa goes without complaint, pliant now in Amber’s hands. The blond settles behind her, hands still holding onto her hips, arms wrapped around her waist and keeping her close. Alysa leans back into the touch with a soft breath, her weight pressed against Amber’s chest.
Alysa slips back into sleep rather quickly despite her initial hesitation.
But Amber doesn’t.
She waits, until she’s certain that Alysa’s breathing has evened out completely, until the smaller girl curls up into her in her sleep, until the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall finally signals a half hour passed, before she lets herself close her eyes too.
“Again?” Isabeau’s voice is clear through her earbuds, and Amber rolls her eyes at the question.
“Oh cause you’re so well adjusted,” Amber scoffs.
“Don’t change the subject, have you made any progress on the whole therapy thing?” Isabeau sighs.
“Have you met Alysa?” Amber laughs. Isabeau makes a non committal noise and Amber waits, giving her friend the space to respond.
Her hands are busy anyways, leveling out flour in a measuring cup before dumping it into the bowl on the counter.
“I know, it’s not my favorite thing either, sitting on a couch in SHIELD headquarters listening to Linda try and explain away my PTSD while I spend every session re-explaining how I survived that fucking ice is my least favorite part of the month, but once in a while it helps to have an outside perspective on things, and there’s been like, panic attack tactics we’ve talked about that help,” Isabeau is rambling now, and Amber lets her, the familiar ritual of making breakfast guiding her.
Cracking eggs. Pouring milk. Measuring oil. Shaking sugar out of the bag. Pinching salt into the bowl. Stirring.
“…and all this to say, maybe talk to her about it again?” Isabeau finishes and Amber nods to herself.
“Beau, she’s just going to say that she already completed her court ordered sessions and has no interest in going back,” Amber sighs, replaying the last time they had this discussion.
“I know, hey why don’t you take her away for the weekend? Get out of the city for a bit?” Isabeau offers.
That causes Amber to take pause.
“Are you sure?” Amber asks slowly.
“Yeah, I’ll deal with…everything, she deserves some real peace, and so do you,” Isabeau says softly.
Amber mulls it over, twisting the spoon around in her fingers, making twisty patterns in the batter. She can’t remember the last time she really had a vacation. Paid time off isn’t exactly part of the superheroes benefits package. And with Alysa’s…complicated…history, SHIELD is fairly serious about keeping on top of her whereabouts. She’s not under any type of formal house arrest, but they’ve made it plenty clear that she’s to stay within the city limits.
“How are you going to deal with everything?” Amber raises an eyebrow.
“I’m Captain America, I’ll figure it out.” Isabeau snorts and Amber can’t help but laugh at the brashness of her response.
“It’s about time you used that pretty face for something helpful,” Amber says, unable to shake the smirk on her face as she turns on the stove.
“Hey! I’m a symbol of patriotism, a hero to the people, and please don’t reduce me to a pretty face, you neglect the merit of my hot body,” Isabeau’s familiar tone of sarcasm is soothing.
“Right, right, my apologies, that was insensitive of me,” Amber laughs into the phone, pressing it to her ear with her shoulder, while her hands work to pour batter into the pan.
“Yeah it was, we go to the gym together, you know I’m more than a pretty face,” Isabeau huffs, and Amber can practically see the little pout on Isabeau’s face.
Before Amber can come up with another response, her head turns towards the hallway where she can hear the footsteps of a very sleepy Alysa padding over from the bedroom.
“Hey Beau I think Lys is up, I’ll text you okay?” Amber says quickly.
“Okay! Tell her I love her, and miss her, and think about the weekend okay? Seriously you both need it,” Isabeau says with a snort as Amber hangs up and pockets her phone. She flips the first pancake just as Alysa waddles through the entryway, her body still heavy with sleep.
“Hey baby,” Amber turns around, a soft smile on her face as Alysa pads over to her. Her dark hair is all fuzzy around her head, tousled with sleep. She’s still in her pajamas, a worn out gray tank top that reveals the built musculature of her shoulders and back perfectly, leaving her toned arms exposed to the morning light pouring in the kitchen windows. It reflects off her metal arm, spilling golden hues onto the wall. Amber’s eyes can’t help but continue to trail downwards, towards where the cotton sticks against her abs, bunched up above the briefs that have little Captain America shields all over them. A gift from Isabeau last Christmas.
“I can’t believe you actually wear those,” Amber chuckles as Alysa steps forward into her waiting arms, wasting no time burying her nose into Amber’s neck and hugging her tightly around the waist.
“They were a gift, it would be rude not to. What’re you making?” Alysa mumbles.
“Pancakes, or do they look that bad that you actually can’t tell?” Amber asks with a smile.
“They look great, you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve helped, you know,” Alysa says.
“It’s just breakfast baby, and you looked so peaceful finally, I wanted you to get some sleep, you need it,” Amber says, and readjusts them so that Alysa is facing the stove, Amber caging her in from behind. The new position allows her to continue flipping pancakes while keeping Alysa close. She pushes her nose along Alysa’s neck, leaving gentle open mouthed kisses as she goes.
“So do you,” Alysa says softly, leaning back into the touch.
“I got plenty,” Amber says.
“How’s Isabeau?” Alysa asks.
“She’s good, worried about you,” Amber says.
“She’s always worried about me,” Alysa sighs, rolling her eyes as Amber plates more pancakes and pours more batter.
“I’m worried about you too,” Amber says.
“You’re also always worried about me,” Alysa says.
“It’s kind of my job,” Amber points out.
“I thought your job was badass assassin?” Alysa laughs.
“First of all, my job is far more than just assassination thank you very much, and second of all, I’ve been known to multitask,” Amber says, flipping another pancake as Alysa leans back into her.
“Is that so?” Alysa says.
“Yes, and you should know that better than most,” Amber says, continuing to kiss along Alysa’s neck, pushing her way towards her collarbone.
“Mmmm, that’s true,” Alysa admits.
“She thinks we should get away for the weekend,” Amber proposes, curious to gage Alysa’s reaction to the suggestion.
“Right cause that’s an option,” Alysa scoffs.
“I’m serious, and so is she. Could be nice, when’s the last time you got a real break?” Amber asks, finishing up the last of the pancakes and reluctantly letting Alysa out of her arms so they can plate breakfast and eat at the kitchen table.
“Would you consider being on ice a break?” Alysa says and Amber rolls her eyes.
“No, cryogenics is definitely not a break Lys,” Amber says.
“Then let’s go with never, but I thought I wasn’t allowed to wander? SHIELD likes me on a short leash right?” Alysa says, and though her tone is casual, Amber can feel there’s something deeper under the words. Not hate or anger, more like exhaustion.
“Beau will figure it out, plus we’re not going to leave the country or anything like that, just headed upstate for a bit,” Amber says.
“Where?” Alysa asks, mouthful of pancake as she eats like a woman starved.
“Catskills, I’ve got a friend who owes me a favor and his family’s cabin is empty this weekend,” Amber shrugs, resisting the urge to laugh as syrup trails down Alysa’s chin.
“How many people exactly owe you favors?” Alysa points her fork at Amber to accompany the accusation.
“Don’t change the subject,” Amber scoffs.
“I’ll think about it I guess, I just…” Alysa softens, taking a beat between bites finally. Amber stills, showing her partner that she’s listening, giving her the time she needs to pick the right words.
“Hey, Lys,” Amber says, garnering Alysa’s attention once she gets that faraway look in her eyes, the one that means she’s reliving memories that no one should ever have to relive.
“You deserve good things, you deserve a good life, a happy life, punishing yourself forever isn’t going to change the past, you’ve already hurt enough baby, you’ve paid more than your fair share of pain to the world, you deserve rest now,” Amber says softly.
“Do I? Shouldn’t I be — ” Alysa starts but Amber cuts her off before this can get any further. She’s been down this road before and has no intention of doing it again.
“No. You shouldn’t. You made your amends, you were rightfully pardoned by the state department, your slate is new in the eyes of the law, you just need to give yourself a break,” Amber says.
“Oh cause you’re one the talk,” Alysa snaps and Amber swallows, breathing in slowly through her nose.
“Lys,” Amber’s tone speaks caution but Alysa ignores it.
“No! Sitting here telling me I shouldn’t be beating myself up when I watch you go to town on the bag until your knuckles bleed, taking on missions until you can’t even stand up straight anymore, refusing to be given credit for anything you do in the field, all the lives you’ve saved under SHIELD just because you still haven’t reconciled your time with the Widows,” Alysa growls, her metal arm rippling with anger.
“That’s different,” Amber says.
“It’s not, and you know it,” Alysa says.
“It is! You were brainwashed and manipulated and tortured and forced okay? I made all my own decisions, and yes, I’m still paying for them, and I’ll continue paying for them for the rest of my life, but that doesn’t mean you have to,” Amber hates the way her voice rises.
“Do you hear yourself when you talk? Just because it wasn’t cryo and electric shock they used on you doesn’t mean that you weren’t just as brainwashed as I was!” Alysa stands up now, the force of the action sending her chair hurtling backwards and the table shakes slightly.
“Baby, take a breath,” Amber says slowly, trying to bring her voice back down to manageable levels.
“No I don’t need this from you of all people, god you and Beau with your speeches of forgiveness, you think I can just turn it off? I can just forget about everything? All the people I hurt? Killed? That I can just let it go? And then the both of you turn around and go mope about your own regrets behind my back and then have the audacity to tell me it’s different,” Alysa huffs, tears fully streaming down her face now.
“Lys, please,” Amber starts to slowly make her way forward, and Alysa stays put, her feet seemingly glued to the floor even as she tracks Amber’s every move.
“You don’t understand you couldn’t, I’m a monster, they made me into a monster, a weapon, that’s all I was, all I am, I don’t, I can’t be anything else,” Alysa chokes on the end of the sentence, and all but collapses into Amber’s arms once she reaches her. Amber doesn’t bother with more words, just holds the smaller girl close in her grasp, tight to her chest and kisses the crown of her head while running her fingers through her soft brown hair.
“I know…I know,” She says softly, steeling herself against her own tears threatening to fall, forcing herself to be strong for Alysa. The younger holds on tightly, her arms wrapped around the blond’s waist for a long time. It could’ve been minutes or hours, Amber isn’t sure, and she doesn’t really care. She would hold Alysa all day and night if she thought she could make it better. Finally, after a while, and Amber moving them into the living room to cuddle on the couch, reruns of The Simpsons playing on the TV behind them, Alysa speaks again.
“So, the Catskills?” She says gently.
“Mhm, are you familiar?” Amber asks.
“Like, in general? But I’ve never been,” Alysa says.
“What really? Aren’t you the local?” Amber laughs.
“My family wasn’t really in a position to go to the mountains back in the forties, and I’ve been…busy ever since, being back in New York is a trip and a half now, it wasn’t always this loud,” Alysa sighs.
“I guess that’s fair,” Amber nods, chuckling as Homer trips on a rock and faceplants into a rake in the yard, Bart doubling over in laughter behind him.
“Just the two of us?” Alysa asks.
“Yep, just the two of us, and I’m sure some annoying check in FaceTime calls from Beau, but I think we can handle that, or if you want, I can just fake like we don’t have service,” Amber shrugs.
“First off, we have SHIELD phones okay, there’s nowhere that we ‘don’t have service’ and secondly, I think if you did that, she’d just show up at our door, so better to accept the calls I guess,” Alysa giggles.
“You’re probably right,” Amber relents.
“Okay, Catskills, vacation, I can do that, we can do this,” Alysa nods to herself and melts as Amber leans over and captures her in a soft kiss.
“I love you,” She whispers between their lips after she pulls back, keeping them close enough so their foreheads are still touching.
“I love you too, I’m sorry about earlier,” Alysa says.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry too,” Amber sighs, happy that Alysa surges forward and kisses her again, preventing them from ruining the moment with more words.
Amber lets herself be rearranged easily on the couch, until she’s flat on her back with Alysa mouthing along her neck, letting her body communicate her apology in ways that her words can’t. She nips at Amber’s ear, smirking against her jaw at the little squeak Amber lets out at the action, and how her hips jerk up against Alysa’s.
The younger is holding her down with ease, her body weight more than enough to keep Amber still. While she might technically have the smaller frame between the two of them, the super solider serum that flows through her veins means that she will beat Amber in brute force every time.
“Fuck Lys,” Amber moans, one of her hands reaching up to dig into the soft muscle of Alysa’s shoulder, while the other slips under her tanktop to palm at her bare breast underneath. The squeezing of her soft flesh gives Alysa pause for a moment, as she groans with the pressure and grinds her hips down involuntarily on top of Amber.
“Shit,” She huffs out.
“Oh? You like that?” Amber teases, knowing damn well how sensitive Alysa’s tits are, and taking full advantage.
“Shut up,” Alysa growls, surging forward again to kiss Amber with ferocity. She works her tongue into Amber’s mouth, pushing past her teeth without hesitation. She kisses her like she wants to devour her, and it makes Amber’s head spin. Alysa’s good hand is holding her upper body up next to Amber’s head, while her metal one is gripping Amber’s hip, pinning her down to the couch despite her squirming.
While Alysa can’t exactly feel the sensation of Amber’s skin through the metal, she knows how much it does for the blond, the extra bit of strength she can summon with it at the flick of her wrist. The chill of the metal against her searing skin. And who is Alysa to deny her?
Amber groans into her mouth, her nails digging into Alysa’s shoulder with a grunt as Alysa starts to roll her hips deliberately on top of her body, grinding them together. It’s not providing either of them with pressure where they really need it, but the motion is sinful enough for them to both get something out of it. After a few experimental moves, Alysa loses patience, and slots her thigh in between Amber’s legs, shoving them apart and she pushes her knee right against Amber’s underwear.
“Oh fuck, baby,” Amber whines, her voice all weak and thready as Alysa puts unrelenting pressure against the wet spot on her underwear.
“You’re already soaked through for me aren’t you? I can feel how wet you are just from my knee, just from me kissing you and touching you like this? God Amber you make me insane,” Alysa huffs, the words barely getting out between little grunts and moans as she feels Amber getting wetter with each push.
“Please,” Amber says. At any other moment she might be embarrassed by how needy she sounds, but right now, she could give a fuck about anything besides Alysa touching her.
“What is it pretty girl? What do you need?” Alysa hums right into her ear, the sentence punctuated with a moan as Amber continues to knead at her breasts under the tank top, both hands working over her rock hard nipples with feather like touches and teasing pinches that have Alysa dripping in her boxers.
“Fuck me Alysa,” Amber practically snaps, annoyed and turned on at the way Alysa is effortlessly holding her hips in place so she can’t properly grind down on her knee.
“Oh I think you can do better than that,” Alysa says, pulling back with a smirk.
But the movement is just what Amber has been waiting for, a moment of opportunity where Alysa is just slightly off balance, and slightly is all she needs. Amber shifts her weight and pushes her leg up on the side where Alysa’s metal arm isn’t holding her, surprising the brunette and flipping them over in the blink of an eye.
“Better.” Amber says with a glint in her eye as she straddles on top of Alysa now, who is unable to hide the expression of adoration on her face even as she finds herself pinned beneath Amber.
“Unfair,” Alysa whines, with no real protest.
“There is no unfair, you’re just upset that you lost,” Amber smirks, hands splayed on either side of Alysa’s head as she leans over her. The predatory look in her eyes sends a shiver down Alysa’s spine, but not enough to deter her from slowly and carefully moving her arm to where she wants it.
“Did I?” Alysa says, and winks as she moves Amber’s underwear to the side and pushes two metal fingers inside her with no hesitation.
Amber’s eyes go wide at the sudden intrusion, the cool metal stretching her out the second it enters, making her let out a moan of pornographic proportions. Her body reacts before her mind catches up, grinding down to chase more, more of Alysa, more of her fingers, more of the perfect aching stretch.
“Fuck, that’s not fair,” Amber says, her hands scrambling to grab at Alysa’s shoulders for balance.
Alysa takes great pride in slowly sitting up, her free hand grabbing Amber’s hip and pulling her in close on her lap, pushing her down further on her fingers. She leans forward and whispers into Amber’s ear.
“There is no unfair baby, now be a good girl, and ride my fingers like I know you want to,” Alysa says, and from the way Amber is panting on her lap, she knows that she’s already won.
The blond starts moving instantly, grinding up and down on Alysa’s lap as requested, fucking herself on her fingers. She bounces up and down, her nails digging into Alysa’s shoulders so hard that the brunette winces, but doesn’t hesitate, continuing to move her arm up and down to meet Amber’s hips every time without fail. She’s just getting used to it when Alysa adds a third finger, making her cry out.
“Oh god, fuck Lys,” Amber says, her tone wrought with a combination of pain and pleasure.
“You can take it, I’ll help you,” Alysa says, her voice gentle despite the way she doesn’t hesitating to slam up into Amber with the strength of every joint and weld in her arm. She knows that this isn’t exactly the use case that SHIELD had in mind when they gave her a new arm, but it’s been a lovely addition to their sex life. Amber getting off on the speed at which Alysa can fuck her into the mattress for hours, never once needing to take a break, stretching her open with fingers that never falter in their precision, and react to dramatic temperature changes with excellent results.
And in moments like this, where even though Amber is bearing down with her full weight on top of Alysa’s arm, her body continues to thrust up into her easily, her rhythmic fucking never faltering for a second as Amber becomes overwhelmed with the sensations. Her head falls forward onto Alysa’s shoulder as she lets a few tears of overwhelming stimulation fall onto the couch, whimpering as Alysa fucks her without missing a beat, her hand hitting deep inside her every thrust.
“So close baby, I know you’re so close, come for me sweetheart, come on my fingers,” Alysa encourages and feels Amber nodding against her shoulder with the command, falling apart on top of her instantly.
Her walls clamp down on the slick metal fingers inside her, squeezing and holding them in as she lets out a strangled moan into Alysa’s neck, a new bout of wetness leaking out of her steadily onto Alysa’s hand. Her thighs are shaking with the effort as she collapses into Alysa’s waiting arms, completely boneless and spent. She winces when Alysa pulls out of her, feeling suddenly empty without her inside.
“Did you?” Amber breathes out, and Alysa shakes her head.
“But it won’t take long I can handle it, and-” Alysa says.
“No, no, I want, I want to, just,” Amber says, and slowly shifts her body off Alysa’s lap, gesturing to her to lay back down. Alysa complies, lets Amber grab ahold of her boxers and tug them down to her ankles, before she slides up the couch on her stomach, and buries her face in between Alysa’s legs.
“Oh fuck,” Alysa groans instantly as Amber’s tongue swipes against her, sending a shock to her system for a moment. Her mind goes blissfully blank as Amber works her up expertly, knowing exactly where to lick and suck to drive her insane. The blunt wet tip of her tongue swirls around her clit with precision, before returning back down to her dripping pussy, where she flattens her mouth out to press perfect pressure against Alysa.
The brunette can’t help it, reaching down to grab Amber’s hair and tug her in closer, hips bucking erratically at each shift of her mouth.
“Yeah right, oh god right there, m’gonna, Amber,” Amber can barely hear the words being mumbled from Alysa’s mouth, but she gets the picture just fine. Besides, she doesn’t need words to know when her girl is close, she can tell from the way Alysa’s thighs are tensing around her head, the way she’s squirming against her grip, and practically gushing into her mouth. Amber loves every second of it, the taste of Alysa on her tongue is something she can never get used to, she’s become addicted to it, obsessed with the way Alysa falls apart so beautifully on her mouth.
She grazes her teeth on Alysa’s inner thigh and then quickly redirects to sucking on her clit just enough to send her falling over the edge, her hips bucking erratically into Amber’s mouth with the aftershocks of pleasure.
Amber works her down from it, cleaning her up delicately and slowly before sliding back up the couch and collapsing onto her chest. Alysa puts an arm around her, both of them breathing hard from the exertion. They fall asleep there, spent and satisfied, blissfully unaware of the prying eyes setting up to watch them from behind a scope across the street.