"Hey, everyone!" You waved at the tiny looking phone that Paul held up for you in his meaty paws, "I'm Y/n Stark and today, we're going to be cooking for a good cause," You went into more detail about the Global Poverty Project before, "So, I'm going to be cooking a classic that me and my brother ate all the time growing up. It was one of the first things we learned how to make ourselves too," You grinned at the camera, "You'll need butter, onion, mash potatoes, and any leftover veggies and bits of meat – fake or real – salt, pepper, any seasonings you prefer with these ingredients, and possibly an egg if you're feeling frisky."
You had prepped everything you needed and started putting it together for the pan, but decided to talk as you went, "I'm on tour right now in Peru, and my god, there are certain countries that are hard to leave and this has secretly always been my favorite leg of touring," You smirked a bit, "The energy here is just on a whole different level and it's honestly unmatched – shit, yeah, don't forget to heat up your pan, don't be a dumbass and get distracted and forget that you'll need to turn things on in order to cook with them," You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head, "This is what happens when you livestream and can't edit some of this shit out," You then looked up at Paul as the butter started to sizzle, "Paul's behind the camera, in case you couldn't tell by the shaky quality," You teased and he rolled his eyes with a grunt, "So, ask me any questions – I appreciate everyone watching, we'll tally up the highest view marker this makes and that's how much money I'll be donating, but also the donation match, so every penny counts!" You added in before Paul was speaking up.
"Lots of people want to know when you're coming back to Australia. And if you're drinking enough water and eating enough and getting plenty of sleep and cuddles."
You laughed at the last part, "I drink plenty and sleep as much as I can – do I not look alright? Is that why you're asking about my eating habits and that?" You playfully narrowed your eyes at the camera, "I'm not sure about Australia, you guys were amazing this tour, every single one of you, so definitely next tour, we just don't have the dates for it yet – or the album! You're way too ahead of me!"
Paul smiled knowingly at that because he knew you were already more than halfway finished with your eighth album, knowing it meant the last of the albums under Johnny's contract, and you weren't even done touring your seventh one.
"They want to know who the two new people are who keep hanging around you."
You furrowed your eyebrows and then made a look of realization when you did, "Oh! Natasha and Bucky are my new bodyguards. Good people," You looked down, stirring the onion and potato more than necessary as you hid a hint of a blush, thinking of Natasha, "Good people."
You dumped in the veggies and bits of tofu bacon, almost dropping the bowl when Paul spoke up again, "Someone said you're blushing."
"Heat of the kitchen getting to me." You muttered and you didn't have to look up to know Paul was smirking.
"Someone asked if they're single and others are worried you're getting rid of me."
"Ha!" You snorted, "Never getting rid of Paul! He's part of the tour family and honestly, he's like a second father to me," You beamed, telling them honestly, and you noticed Paul shift on his feet, hiding his smile behind the camera as he suddenly focused on it completely, "And sorry, ladies, gents, and nobles, but Bucky is married. So, nope. To answer your question, they're not at all single."
Paul squinted at your response to the question, but you were already nearly burning the dish, so you didn't have much time to think about it and you soon plated the masterpiece, trying it a few minutes later before ending the livestream.
Later that night, you had unnoticeably twisted your ankle on stage, the adrenaline pumping through you throughout the show masking the pain for both you and the audience. You continued jumping around, dancing with the band, and singing like your life depended on it, but once you jogged off the stage, reaching your dressing room where Natasha stood outside of, the pain hit you like a truck. You gave her a weak, forced smile, hissing under your breath as you stumbled into the room with your hair and makeup team in tow, shutting the door a bit harsh behind you right before collapsing on the sofa.
You focused on breathing through it, reaching over into your bag for the Advil you always carried with you in case. You swallowed a few with the assistance of the water bottle left on the coffee table, cringing as it stung and throbbed – the further damage you did to it on stage by ignoring the injury catching up to you all at once.
"Fucking shit," You cursed under your short breath, trying to breathe deep and slow, but it was becoming harder as time went on, "Fuck, this hurts."
"Y/n?" Natasha called from the other side, a soft knock following her words, and you stayed quiet for a moment, hoping she'd assume you were in the shower, "Y/n, open up, it's just me."
You let out a deep breath, moving with much difficulty and grimacing in pain to sit up before calling back, "It's open!"
The door slowly opened to reveal Natasha, her hair tied back, wearing a gray tee shirt tucked into some black trousers. She eyed you with suspicion as she shut the door behind her.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, course, why wouldn't I be?" You huffed out a short laugh and she stiffened.
"You're hurt."
You sighed in defeat, falling back against the couch as you slouched down, "How do you always know these things?"
She was moving around the room as she spoke, "You're terrible at hiding things – oh, and I read some of the articles and comments that came out after your interview – you'd be surprised," She hesitated next to the sofa and you glanced up to see her standing there with an ice pack in her hand, eyeing the spot next to you, so you scooted over just an inch as an invite that she took immediately, "How many people loved it," She carefully helped you to put your leg up, but then she moved you around almost like you weighed nothing so your lower legs were draped over her lap, "The fans were outraged by his gross comments and the articles were saying that you handled yourself with grace and they respect you for it," She carefully unlaced your boots before removing them, "But overall, they were just happy to see you do an interview and excited about the cooking video – guess you don't make many public appearances besides performing and award shows?"
You hissed when she applied the heavy ice pack to your swollen ankle, reaching for it without a thought, but then she playfully swatted your hand away. You opened your mouth to respond, but then she was reaching over to press her hand gently against your shoulder to try and coax you into lying back as your guys' eyes locked onto each other. You went pliantly and that seemed to settle something deep within her as she smiled softly, like that one moment built more trust than any other one did.
"I want to do more meet and greets," You admitted after a long moment of tension filled silence, "But John – they make it so expensive, and I'd rather not bother if I can't meet most of my real fans. The ones that aren't just there because their parents forked out hundreds of dollars. It's not the same."
She hummed, readjusting the ice pack, "There was something else I wanted to ask you about."
"Yes. My tits are real, contrary to popular belief." You deadpanned and she laughed loudly.
"No!" She was still laughing, shaking her head, "I was gonna ask why you told the world I'm not single in your cooking video – people really think your boobs are fake?"
Your breath caught in your throat after a second when you realized she was right – thinking back, you did imply that neither of them were single, not just Bucky, but then again, "I assumed you might be seeing someone?"
"Hm," She didn't see to buy it, squeezing your good ankle lightly, "Think I would've told you about her by now, princess."
Her.
"Oh," You raised your eyebrows, pursing your lips as you nodded, "Yeah, guess that was stupid. Sorry."
"No need," She waved it off, "I don't care what everyone thinks. Only the ones close to me. And even then," She smirked, and you chuckled quietly before she met your eyes with something glittering in hers, "Was just curious."
