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saundraswriting · 4 years

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Interior Designer Chapter 5: Dinner

SUMMARY:You join the Avengers for dinner, part because you want to and partly because Tony wouldn't take no for an answer. You meet the others who expected to stay at the compound. Steve and Bucky talk. Your work habits make an appearance.

WARNINGS: Bucky and Steve both deal with intense emotions. Also I allude a bit to the reader's backstory. You have been shunned of sorts from a very wealthy family, you were forced to develop skills to better yourself to be of more value to your parents. so there are some references to a sense of familial detachment, I am not writing it as abuse because the reader is well cared for but her parents are hard to please and distant.

NOTES: This is an everyone lives/no one dies, Living in the compound, Non Civil War compliant, No Sokovian Accords AU.

Previous / Next

"No we haven't. My name is F/N :L/N. I just accepted an offer from Ms. Potts to be an Interior decorator for the compound. I'll work with each one of you to decorate and settle your rooms how you like. Then I'll also be in charge of the other living areas of the compound. My official title is Quartermaster of the Avengers." You spoke to everyone, looking at those who you see.

"I am called Vision. This is Wanda Maximoff and her brother Pietro Maximoff." Vison pointed to the two in front of you.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Vision, Ms. Maximoff and Mr. Maximoff." You smiled at the three of them.

"We are roughly the same age, surely you can use our first names." Wanda told you. You nodded in agreement.

"You can just call me anytime, baby." Sam winked at you from his position to your right. His charming smile shrunk ever so slightly at you lack of response. "Huh? You playing hard to get?" His smile gained strength.

"Nope, just got standards, bird-boy." You teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows. Laughter rang around the table, the hardest coming from your left. Steve and Bucky were laughing outright, making pride grow in your chest. You made the team laugh and smile.

"Oh, how you wound me!" Sam clapped a hand to his chest in mock horror.

"She is good. Keep that sense of humor, making fun of Sam is a sure fired way to get on the good side of some people." Steve said.

"Not that I am conceited or anything but I don't need an introduction." Tony said. He was on Sam's right across from Natasha. You shook your head.

"I think not. I have already met you, Captain Rogers, Sargent Barnes, and Mr. Wilson. I also knew Dr. Banner from university. I went to a science classes for color and light theory things. He is a well-rounded source with his 7 Ph.Ds." You smiled fondly at the man at the head of the table. "I know of Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanov. I was very impressed with your abilities during the Battle of New York. I will admit I didn't follow the news avidly after that until D.C and even then very infrequently."

"Call me Clint please." He told you. You smiled and shook your head. 'Maybe one day, you deserve the respect I can give you. But you can call me Y/N.' You signed to him fluently. His eyes widened in surprise and a twinkle lit up his eyes.

"I know half dozen languages fluently. and several less so; French, Spanish, German, Italian, Japanese, Russian, Chinese, Portuguese, Hindu, Greek, ASL." You told everyone, you wanted full transparency on your part. They were the Avengers, least you could do was help them relax around you, let them drop their guard.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises." Natasha murmured, leaning her head on her hand. She was peering at you closely, examining you. Your honesty only increased her suspicion.

You shrugged, debating on talking about it on night number one. 'full transparency, be honest.' you thought to yourself. "Many are not by my own doing. I was a member a very haughty family. I was forced to use every opportunity to earn something that could be used to better market myself to the highest bidder. I used everything I was forced to learn to get myself out before I was married off." You spoke to the middle distance, trying to push down the memories of your home life. The emotionlessness of your parents, the words used to make you feel like a burden, the endless hours of schooling, the punishments for being wrong or vocal. You spoke with no emotion, trying not to let through more than what you wanted at the moment. Some things were not meant for dinnertime conversation.

You visibly shook yourself, shifting away from the maudlin thoughts. "I don't mean to be depressing during dinner. I promise, Ms. Romanov, I mean you or your family any harm. I understand your suspicion, it has kept you alive until now." You smiled warmly at the redhead, not bothered by the behavior. She at least had the manners to look sheepishly at you.

Seeing everyone was just about done, there was leftovers. Which was strange to you, you figured they would eat everything. "Why don't you all do your movie thing-team bonding or whatever? I will clean up and make my way to my room. I still have some work I want to work on." You stood up clearing you place setting. Most of the others got up and moved to the living room to discuss options for the nights. You went back to the table, fully intending to clean up but Bucky and Steve both were shaking their heads at you.

"Not happening. Our ma's would be rolling in their graves." Steve said.

"No guest of ours is cleaning up from a meal let alone a dame like you. We got this." Bucky said. They used their immense bulk to block the table from you. Bucky even guiding you past him by the small of your back with his right hand.

You stared at them with narrowed eyes, unsure. "Fine. This is the only time I will tolerate this. I am now an employee, specifically Tony's but by associate yours. I will not accept this forced chivalry laying down. You can't make me." You walked past the table to join the others.

Bucky looked at you with an innocent look on his face, his tired eyes almost ruining it, but you could see his hair was clean and his scruff looked a little better. "Wouldn't dream of it. Now shoo." Bucky nudged you with his flesh hand.

"Good job Bucky. That was well done. Now let's hurry so we can go sit. You handled a full conversation with her exquisitely. Also you initiated touch. That is a lot of progress not just for today but in general." Steve said as they pitched empty cartons.

"I know, I am actually kind of worried. She is able to just make me forget. Like it is just so easy with her to be human. Don't get me wrong, I am tired. She might make it easy but I still have the consequences to deal with. Just since I met her, my thoughts have been racing. I reach out to touch her and forget I killed so many people.. I could hurt her or anyone if I forget a the wrong time." Bucky admitted.

"Yeah, you are human Buck. You need to accept and learn to move on. That is what the therapy is for. You hurt and killed people, yes, but that wasn't you. You aren't the only one here that could hurt her, I could, Sam could, Thor could, especially if we had to work through what you have to. I hate to tell you Bucky, there is no 'I am fixed' moment. You work at it every day all day. Everything takes time. And we all will be here to help you." Steve rested a hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing when he wasn't shrugged off.

The two men finished cleaning up, packing up the leftovers and labeling them. They cleaned the table and put the dishes in the restaurant grade dishwasher. Once done, Steve stood by the living room Buck looking between the couches and the doorway to his room.

"If you want to duck out, no one will judge." Steve said.

"I think I might. I am tired. It has been a long day. I don't want to push it too far." Bucky was apologetic.

"That is perfectly okay. Knowing your limits is important too." Steve said.

"Then yes, I am turning in. I want to end on a high note, not taint my good day by having a bad night. I haven't had human-to-human contact for days and Y/N's comment about not needed to protect you got me twisted up. I need some time to just be." Bucky rubbed the back of his head, not looking at Steve. He was hesitating. Steve waited patiently.

"I don't resent you. I don't resent you because you got bigger. I don't resent you for me falling or moving on. I resent the assholes that made me into their puppet. I resent them from taking 70 years from me to use me like a plaything. I resent them for taking away the things about me that I knew." Bucky's hands were trembling ever so slightly. Steve felt his heart break all over again. "I know mentally-I understand-that you don't need me mother-henning you till the cows come home, I get that. That doesn't mean that I don't miss it. I also know that you are a dumbass punk who has only survived by being lucky. I am trying to relearn a lot of things. Shuri, Wanda and everyone have been more than helpful in re-wiring my brain. The hardest part sometimes is seeing Stevie and Steve at the same time, seeing you then and you now. I was your family then and you went and built one. I don't resent you or hate you, I am a little jealous sure. Of them. Of you." Bucky's eyes were wet again, breath shuddering in his chest. Steve felt his eyes grow wet, vision swimming from tears. He took a deep, shaky breath. He needed Bucky to hear this, to know this.

"James Buchanan Barnes, no matter what. No. Matter. What. You belong next to me. You are my family. They are my family. And if you want, they are your family. We found each other and built this family with our own hands. It won't happen right away. It will take time. Gods, I needed like five years before I got even slightly used to everything. You aren't alone. You'll never be alone again." Steve pulled Bucky into a tight breath-squeezing hug.

Bucky tucked his head into Steve's shoulder and squeezed back. He and Steve muttering soothing words into each other's ear, trying to not cry to hard. "Thank you Steve. For everything." Bucky pulled away after the lengthy hug. "I am definitely going to bed now. Night, punk." Bucky made his way to the entry way of his hallway calling out good nights to the others. They answered in kind-abet distractedly.

"Good night, Sargent Barnes. Sleep well." Your voice was firm and focused. You wanted him to know you meant it.

Steve came into the living room once Bucky left, you stood up right away.

"Y/N." Steve called. You went over. Steve grabbed your hand. "Thank you. Bucky and I had a heart-to-heart, a really nice one. We haven't really talked about anything of importance because I don't want to upset him and he doesn't wasn't to upset me. You helped him through a lot of things today, without even trying. He had been struggling with some of it for while now. You probably know that recovery isn't a straight line." You could see he had been crying, eyes were red and puffy, voice thick.

"I am glad to help. I don't know much about what happened, I felt you were in the right. I do feel bad though because I overstepped boundaries. Even if it helped him in the end. I also certainly didn't mean to trigger him." You help up a hand to stop Steve from speaking. "Captain Rogers, I very much did trigger him in the kitchen this afternoon. He was frozen and distant and crying. Subconsciously, my comment triggered an issue that had been hounding him for a while. It brought a lot to the conscious mind and he needed time to deal with it.

"I won't argue with you. I will tell you for the first time ever, my best friend gave me a hug. I have been waiting 70 plus years for that. He talked to me, about what he has been feeling. I want to thank you. I got parts of him I thought I would never see again. I know-because of you today-Bucky will be just fine." Steve squeezed your hand.

"Just in the span of today? I knew Sargent Barnes would be fine. With a family like yours, there was no doubt." You squeezed back, grinning. "Now, the kitchen is cleaned and I can go back to work." You pulled away but were stopped by Steve lightly yanking your arm.

"Um, No. It is movie time. Not working time." Clint said.

"I am an official SI employee. With a very important job to do. I have to get a head start on it." You tried to get away again. Steve stopped you once more.

"Nope, you didn't sign anything today. You are just a guess for now. So sit down and watch the movie and then if you want you can work again." Steve pulled you down to sit next to him, closer than socially acceptable. Steve knew that you were now one of his. He would protect you and care for you like the family he sees you as. "I hope you know that you are now unofficially a member of my family and I don't take that lightly." Steve whispered into your hair.

You huffed a laugh and relaxed. You and the others watched the movie and it was far from quietly, everyone making comments and jokes. Once it was over the others scattered, you headed back to the table to get some work done. You usually worked late and got up early, so this was not too far from usually. You had some trends that you wanted to research. A favorite designer of yours was releasing a new line of furniture. Time passed, you were switching from laptop, tablet, and notebook. You were focused but could feel yourself fading.

You were debating on pushing harder or trying to find your room when Sargent Barnes came into the kitchen.

"Y/N, you're still up?" He asked grabbing a bottle of water. His hair was in a very messy bun and clothes were rumpled.

You opened you mouth to answer him but were cut off by your own yawn. "Oh, that's how it is." he chuckled. "Come on, lets get you to bed. I am cutting you off for the night." He very carefully shut your laptop with his metal hand. The low lights glinting attractively off the black and gold vibranium.

"My w'rk." You slurred. Bucky looked up and shook his head.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y saved it. She told me that Tony also moved your room next to mine." Bucky placed his flesh hand on your back guiding you down the hallway and to your room. The door opened upon arrival, you stepped in.

"Cheers, Sargent Banres." You stumbled into you room the door cutting off the sight of you. Bucky shook his head again.

"Good night, doll." Bucky walked next door, getting back into bed with a smile on his face.

Previous / Next

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Okay, last update for a while. My vacation ends soon and I am out of pre-witten stuff. Let me know what you are thinking okay?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #protective Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fluff #recovered bucky barnes #bucky barnes in recovery #avengers family #domestic avengers #avengers fanfiction #saundraswriting #saundrasays

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anthonyed · 5 years

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soulmate au: where you soulmate’s name is written on your skin [part1]

The first flash of memory is of a stripe of skin. Bold, black English alphabets, spelling out three different names; ANTHONY EDWARD STARK.

On nights when the war in his mind takes its forefront, he pulls out that piece of imagery and forces himself to breathe.

Slowly, once he’s sure he’s shaken the last of HYDRA off his tail and is safely concealed within a mass of European public, he nudges the slit in his brain a little wider and he unfurls from the rush of pain that comes with it.

More memories bleeds out of that gap; of guns and boxing rings. Of little girl and a familiar faced man. Of his finger tips across those three names and once he puts two and two together, he takes a sharp inhale.

Shaking legs lead him to the adjoined bathroom in the dingy motel room he takes cover in. And on his knees, he blinks back hot tears – what summoned them exactly, he doesn’t know – as he presses a palm over his shoulder. Fingers reaching desperately behind for those bold black letters which now he knows are imprinted just beneath the upper border of his right shoulder blade.

That skin he saw, that is his.

And it’s one name. Not three.

He knows that now. And the weight of that information leaves him breathless for fourteen days.

On day fifteen, he opens the browser - after watching a teen click away in the internet café for hours on end - and he googles the name.

On day fifteen, he decides to keep the name to himself, safely tucked beneath the snagged shirt he wears for days on end and to never tell another soul about it.

Much less, the man to whom the name belongs to.

Because, said man looks happy on the screen in front of him. In relationship with a woman called Pepper Potts and he doesn’t know in precise word how he feels about it. But it’s bad.

Then the world topples around him.

Suddenly he’s facing the man from his memory; a lot taller and heavier looking. But that face, he’ll know that face anywhere.

And there are guns ablaze. A tunnel falling behind him and then he’s on his knees on the very street he’d once prowled freely.

The last thing he remembers is a set of words, repeated over and over to wreck him from within.

The next thing he comes to is his left arm pinned between something heavy, ready to crush with a whisper of breath and his head a splitting disaster of pain.

A concoction of mess. Something unnatural and that which shouldn’t be.

A horrible mix of old memories, fragments of new ones and reality which makes him wants to scream, waves of nausea crashing within him.

He can finally put the right name to the man who confronts him; Stevie, with piles of newspapers under his feet. Something about it is funny that his muscles contracts accordingly and his face splits into a smile. All on its own.

But the throbbing in his head doesn’t cease.

Not even a little through the whispered conversation Stevie holds in a corner with his pal.

“If we call Tony…”

“No, he won’t believe us.”

“Even if he did…”

“Who knows if the Accords would let him help.”

“But it’s Tony.”

“You’re gonna call him?”

“Even if the Accords wouldn’t let him help, he’ll at least divert their attention.”

That’s how he found himself facing the man whose name is tattooed on his skin.

His soulmate.

“The rest of the winter soldiers are shot to death. A man named Zemo is behind this. Wanted to tear us apart from within. Saw a video of my parents getting murdered by your buddy here, not cool at all. Kind of hate you and Nat for not telling me but I can’t be mad to not knowing about seven wonders of the world when I could google it myself. So, you three.” The man points, the seemingly unending ramble of his slowing down as he points at Stevie, his pal and him, and he says,

“You’re hopping on the jet with Nat and I and we’re going to Malibu where I’ll drop the four of you off while I go back to New York and try to clean this damned mess without getting strangled by Pepper in the process.”

Pepper.

He knows that name.

It makes something twist horribly inside him - combined with that splitting headache he has going, he winces out in pain, walls crumbling all around him as he tries again to gather the rubbles, patch everything back together, futilely.

Two men reach for him.

One expected while the other, unexpected but not unwanted.

In fact, everything inside him purrs submissively as the man, Tony, or Anthony Edward Stark reaches for him. Snapping into splinters the second he catches himself and steps back.

“Bucky?” Stevie crouches in front of him. “You alright?”

Bucky - because that’s who he is - nods, eyes still fixed on nervous browns that a beat later, disappear behind a loud shade of orange. He blinks and drops his head down. Throat dry as he nods again, wishing Stevie would stop worrying about him. At least until they’re all safely out of here.

Three days later, he sees the man again.

Five days from then, he walks into an argument between Stevie and him. He doesn’t stay after he hears the man hiss, “They won’t trust him as long as the Winter Soldier is dormant in there, Cap and you know that.”

It’s a little over a month after, when he’s out under pelting rain when the man comes to find him.

“I know you’re big on the cold and stuff, but getting drenched in rain is still a health hazard, you know.”

He says as a way of greeting, leaving no space between them when he sits - thighs brushing with electric sparks - on the edge of the pool, legs dipping into chlorine tainted water up to his shins.

They sit in silence, listening to raindrops fall heavily into water, neither under any kind of shelters which makes him snort at the hypocrisy and he mumbles, “Pot, kettle.”

A delightful laugh bursts out his companion. Something that sends shivers up his stiff spine and he shudders, not from the cold but from the blooming emotion that overwhelms him entirely.

It’s unfair how much someone he doesn’t even know to have this much of an effect on him.

Strip him out of decades of control drilled into his bones. Bare him naked and raw with overflowing feelings for the whole world to see. An impossible feat that he does so easily.

It makes him want to hate the man, but he knows that’s a lie.

And the effect of the bond seems to go both ways. For the man opens his mouth with an audible breath, hesitates just a second and asks with palpable nerves,

“You know we’re soulmates right?”

#here's to once again hoping the keep reading line works #will upload part two tomorrow #or sooner #we'll see #buckytony #winteriron #soulmate au

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blancheludis · 5 years

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Tagging: @tokky231

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers Characters: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers, James Rhodes, Pepper Potts, Bruce Barton, Steve Rogers Chapters: 32/?, Words: 177.126

Summary: Tony meets his soulmate under the worst possible circumstances. It is not just a kidnapping gone wrong. It turns out Steve and his gang picked him on purpose and they want some personal revenge. If only he had managed to say the words written on his soulmate’s arm before they threw him back out into the streets.

—

JARVIS announces Steve’s arrival at the tower when Tony is in his workshop, grease on his nose and wearing yesterday’s clothes. The message leaves him frozen for several seconds.

“Do you want me to let him in, sir?”

“Yes,” bursts over Tony’s lips before his mind has fully caught on. When it does, he nods and says again, “Yes.”

After their dinner, Tony tried to view their short-lived acquaintance to be over. They beat the bad guy together but that was not enough to equip them to handle the aftermath.

Try as he might, Tony cannot even blame Steve. To be asked to leave their entire life behind for a stranger, no matter the words on their arms, is too much. Tony sees this now, and yet he would do it again. He cannot keep being affiliated with the Avengers. Not if he ever wants to see a shadow again without the fear of being stabbed.

Perhaps he is projecting his trauma on the wrong people. Despite the way they met, the Avengers have turned out to be steadfast allies, coming in to save him with little regard to their own safety. They came for him. But that is not enough.

If Steve is returning now, only two reasons come to mind for it. Either he is here to tell his goodbyes, or he has changed his mind. Even now, Tony is not sure which he would prefer. Nothing has become clearer since the day they met. On the contrary. Tony’s fear has mellowed, turned almost into a need. He is perfectly aware, however, that he does not always know what is good for him. And he cannot make any mistakes with this, not when he already feels like he consists mostly of cracks anymore.

“Colonel Rhodes has gone out to meet Captain Rogers,” JARVIS says into the brittle silence of the workshop.

That is what finally pushes Tony into motion. Whatever Steve is here for, he wants to hear it himself. Rhodey wants to keep him safe, but he could easily scare Steve away again, and Tony is tired of waiting.

Tony gets up quickly after saving his progress. On the way to the door, he looks down at himself. His trousers have holes, and the colours of his shirt have long ago faded into shades of grey. Nothing to do about that. This is who he is more often than the slick persona he dons for the press, so if Steve is not here to say goodbye, he will need to get used to that anyway.

As he steps into the elevator, he still wipes over his face and runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame it a bit. It is a hopeless case, but that has never stopped him before.

“If I may say so, sir, you look handsome as always,” JARVIS says, a note of humour in his voice.

Tony’s chest glows with warmth. In a way, JARVIS is programmed to take care of him, but even years after creating him it takes him by surprise that JARVIS actually does.

When the elevator door opens, he finds Steve a mere few feet away from him, stared down by Rhodey. At his arrival, they both turn around.

A hint of red is creeping up Steve’s neck and he looks generally flustered, while Rhodey’s expression is rather smug. Pity rises in Tony at the sight, but he squashes down on it mercilessly. Whatever Rhodey said, Steve deserves it.

“I don’t mean to interrupt you,” Tony says with more cheer than he feels. “I’d just like to hear whether Steve is here to stay.”

Steve stares at him, eyes roaming over Tony’s attire. Before Tony can wonder whether he should have taken the time to clean up a bit, a wave of heat smashes into him through the bond that has him almost staggering. So, he guesses he does not look too off-putting.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Rhodey says from somewhere behind them, voice muffled thanks to the deafening heartbeat in Tony’s ears.

He nods and then he hears steps getting quieter. He does not look away from Steve to confirm they are alone. And they are alone, for the first time ever, if one does not count JARVIS. Even in the café, Thor had been watching Tony’s back.

He is not sure what to make of the flutter of excitement in the pit of his stomach that could be easily mistaken for fear. Tony knows better, though. He is thoroughly acquainted with fear thanks to the past weeks. This is a step up, harbouring the possibility for something more.

Steve still looks tired, dark badges under his eyes and a certain weariness to the curve of his lips. At the same time, he carries himself like he has lost a lot of the weight he was carrying around. His back is straight without the painful tension Tony has become used to seeing. His face is open, not hiding the hope nor the sense of being lost that is sitting in Tony’s own chest too.

They are alone and no one is out to kill Tony anymore. They have no more reason to hide from each other or, if they wanted, to stick around. This is the point where they decide their future. Tony has never been less prepared for anything.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says to break the silence long minutes after Rhodey has left.

That is like a slap in the face. Perhaps Tony has misinterpreted Steve’s presence. Perhaps the transmitted heat was shame and the desire to be anywhere but here.

“For coming?” Tony asks through clenched teeth. He has no right to feel disappointed, so he tries his best not to show it.

A grimace pulls at Steve’s features. It could mean anything, but Tony is sure it is nothing good.

“For – this.” Steve gestures at his arm.

Oh, Tony thinks, he means the heat and whatever it stands for. It should be flattering, of course. In a way, it is. Tony remembers the first thing he thought about Steve while he was merely semi-conscious in that warehouse was how attractive Steve is. All the drama they went through never really left time for them to look at each other, but he is. Almost like he was sculpted, a Greek statue come to life. Even his stubbornness equals the marble.

“It’s all right,” Tony says, hard-pressed to keep his tone neutral. Surely this is a good sign. They should probably not stumble from not-quite allies into being immediately attracted to each other, but it is a better start than being repulsed.

If he can see Steve as beautiful that means he cannot be afraid of him anymore. Right?

“I’ve just never seen you like this.” Steve gestures vaguely at Tony, his cheeks glowing with a faint red.

As if wearing faded band shirts and sticky jeans is somehow more attractive than a three-piece suit. Then again, the Avengers as a whole seem to have problems with businessmen and rich people, so this might really be a positive development for Steve.

Tony shakes his head. They are not here to talk about whether he looks good or not. “Well?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”

For once, Tony is not trying to kid himself about the answer he wants. Other people might call him crazy and he is not so sure himself how sane he is, but he wants Steve to stay.

In the very beginning, he would have been glad to get rid of Steve. Things have changed insofar that Tony has seen Steve’s potential. He has been hurt by him, his wishes were ignored, but he has also been saved, has felt the same worry he sometimes sees in Rhodey and Pepper’s eyes. That has to mean something. If it does not work out, they can still go their separate ways. Maybe, though, fate is on to something. Even if they are not cut out to be the perfect match, Tony would like to put this matter to rest. Peacefully, if at all possible. The last weeks are already tainted with too much regret.

“I – we split,” Steve says and hangs his head as if afraid to see Tony’s action, even though this is what he asked for. “The team in DC still has to make a final decision but everybody here is in favour. We’ve agreed to – try our hands at other things.”

The misery is almost palpable in the air, making it clear how hard a step this was. But this is it, Tony realizes. Steve really did it. He met Tony’s insurmountable demand and has come here presumably to ask Tony to let him back in, considering that he has not appeared spitting poison and calling damnation down on Tony’s head for pushing him into this position.

“That’s good,” Tony says but winces at the reluctance in his own tone. He wanted this, he does not get to feel bad for Steve now. He has no reason to, anyway. The way he sees it, things were bound to go wrong at some point if the Avengers kept up their work.

“I think it is,” Steve agrees, going a long way in reassuring Tony, no matter how slowly he says the words, seemingly dragging them up from deep down. “So, I’m here.”

What now? Where do they go from here?

“Do you have somewhere to go?” Tony asks because that is easier than to talk about how the rest of the team took this, what Steve means with saying they have agreed to split up. Somehow, he does not think it is that easy.

Steve scratches his neck, not quite meeting Tony’s eyes. “I applied to college,” he says like there is nothing to it. “I can stay at the base until then.”

That takes Tony more by surprise than Steve’s presence. When he asked Steve to stop being a criminal, he did not really think about what he would do instead. Despite his hopes, he did not believe they would get that far.

College means he must be serious about this, building himself a ladder to the future. That is so much more than Tony could have hoped for.

“Or you could stay here,” Tony says before he knows what he is doing. He freezes, then decides to just roll with it. “In the tower, I mean, we have guest suites. Thor and Bruce are living in one. Just in case you want to. Comes with all the amenities.”

He cuts himself off before he can start rambling in earnest. The offer is not completely selfless. It has the advantage of Steve being close, yes, but more importantly, JARVIS can keep an eye on him here. It is not that Tony thinks Steve is lying to him, but they are still mostly strangers and trust does not come easy to Tony. Less so now than before.

Steve looks taken aback. It does come out of the blue, especially since they are still standing in the entrance hall of Tony’s home.

“I don’t want to crowd you,” Steve then says, sounding like he is afraid of refusing outright while being convinced that he should.

Tony cannot blame him for that. He has told Steve to stay away so many times, it makes no sense for him to change his mind now. Only it does. On an instinctual level he cannot explain.

“Have you seen this tower?” Tony asks by way of an explanation. “I’m safely tucked away up here. You can’t get to me if I don’t want you to.” The thought comes to him that it is now him pushing Steve into something he does not want. “Listen, this is just an offer. You’re welcome to stay, but I won’t force you.”

What a pair they make. Never quite committed to being enemies, just like they are now unable to make the jump to being something more.

“If you really don’t mind,” Steve says quietly, looking like he expects Tony to laugh and call gotcha.

Tony stares, needing a minute before the words register as what they are. An acceptance, however reluctant.

“I don’t,” Tony says, then turns back around to the elevator with a jerk of sudden energy. “Let me show you. You can decide then.”

He does not look whether Steve is prepared to follow him but simply presses the button and steps into the elevator when it comes. Any emotion from Steve could make him stop and he does not want that. Now that he has made the offer, he wants it to happen, bad idea or not.

They do not talk on the short elevator ride down. Tony looks at his phone, waiting for JARVIS to pull up a list of which suites are available. He has no intention of telling Steve about JARVIS just yet. In a way, that is his contingency.

Pepper is responsible for outfitting the guest floors, so they are welcomed by an elegant warmth, too artificial to be a real home but almost the next best thing. Thick carpets muffle their steps as they walk down the hall. Tony has the crazy idea to ask Steve about the artwork on the walls. He has had no hand in picking it, but this is his tower and now that he has invited Steve in, he cannot quite squash the need to impress him, if just a little bit.

They reach the last door of the hall and Tony swipes his card at the door scanner. He does not need to do that, of course, but he thinks that Steve, even in his dazzled state would notice the door opening on its own and ask some question. Better to keep his cards close to his chest while he is still wondering whether he is doing the right thing here.

Tony has not had much reason to visit the guest suites, but he knows their layout from when he planned the tower. They are spacy and welcoming. Large windows show the city and let the sunlight filter in unhindered. The furniture is light and elegant, sparse enough for the guests to decorate after their own wishes but placed strategically to give the picture of a complete home.

The kitchen is fully equipped, the bathroom bigger than some other people’s living room. This is not a place to be ashamed of. And yet, Tony awaits Steve’s judgement, tension creeping into his shoulders.

He stands stiffly in the middle of the living room and he watches Steve look around, noticing the careful placement of feet, how Steve avoids stepping on the carpet, how his shoulders are drawn up, how he swallows several times. This is a rejection waiting to happen. Tony thinks it is because of him and not the suit but his fingers are still itching to get his phone out and ask JARVIS whether a grander one is available.

Finally, Steve comes back to face him, trying to make himself smaller than he is. “This is too much, Tony,” he says and bites his lip as if to keep himself from adding something.

A lifetime of experience tells Tony that means that he is too much, not good enough. He takes a moment to breathe and then, on a whim, concentrates on the bond. If Steve is disgusted with him, he should be able to feel that. The bond just mirrors Steve’s discomfort, thrumming with tension. Tony does not know what to do with that.

“It’s being unused at the moment,” he says, pretending this is just about the suite. Tony fixes problems and finding new rooms for Steve is something he could do. Easier, in any case, than changing himself and their situation.

Steve nods, barely a stiff inclination of his head, but says, “Let’s – I’m not sure I should do this.”

Tony finches, too late to suppress it, and curses himself immediately after. Here he is, inviting Steve into his tower while he cannot even listen to him without battling old fears.

Steve notices. Of course, he does. “What?” he asks, stopping himself with a jerk from stepping forward. “What did I say?” He does reach out with his hand and leaves it hanging there awkwardly for a moment while they stare at each other, debating how misplaced such a reaction is.

It takes some effort to school his face into something reassuring, especially since the bond is pulsing with his elevated heartbeat, but Tony manages a small smile. “Nothing,” he says and shrugs. “That was just a bit close to your words.”

Steve stares at him, face full of shock and slowly morphing into realization and then dismay. “You don’t want to – does it hurt? The bond?” Almost as an afterthought, Steve adds, “It did that for me when Stane had you.”

It makes sense. Tony is constantly getting mirrored feelings from Steve, so how could it not be the same for him. Knowing that Steve had been rushing towards the warehouse, having a front-row seat to witnessing Tony’s panic and fear, feeling his heart break as if it were his own, leaves Tony cold. Such intimacy sits wrong with him. On the other hand, that is exactly why they are here.

“I had nightmares about it,” Tony says lightly, not sure why he admits that. It is done. They cannot change it anymore. And, in the time since, Tony has assembled a dozen more things to have nightmares of.

“You – oh.” Steve’s face falls. Where he was worried before, his expression now eases into something blank. His frown smoothens, his lips go slack, bloodless. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know –”

“It’s all right,” Tony lies, effectively cutting Steve off.

That first nightmare was born of the wish to go back and erase the words from his arm. At that time, they seemed to be the worst thing to ever happen to Tony. That has since been rectified.

“It’s not all right,” Steve argues vehemently. Golden sunlight is filtering in through the window behind him, bathing him in a glow that makes him almost look like a vengeful angel. “We hurt you and then I handled it in such an abysmal way afterwards. I’m sorry I didn’t back off. And I’m sorry you’re – afraid of me.”

The way Steve’s hair shines like a halo makes it impossible to look away. “It’s all right,” Tony repeats, this time more firmly. They will never get anywhere if they keep picking at everything they have done wrong. “If you had backed off, Obadiah would have likely succeeded in killing me. And I’m not afraid of you.”

Tony is not even sure himself whether that is a lie. He remembers the nightmare vividly, remembers having a visceral reaction when he mistook Thor for Steve before their interview. If he were dropped in the Avengers’ base right now with no direct way out, he might be afraid. But here and now, with sunlight streaming in through the windows that leaves no doubt about the remorse in Steve’s eyes, with JARVIS watching over them and several other people close by, Tony is not afraid. Not quite comfortable, either, considering what they are discussing, but he does not think Steve is going to hurt him.

Not physically, at least. When Steve takes a step back, out of the sunlight, Tony realizes that it would hurt him if Steve walked out of here right now.

“I should leave,” Steve says, face once again drawn tight and covered in shadow. “Thank you for the offer, but perhaps it is best if I left New York.”

The words sit between them, echoing inside Tony’s head. This is not how this is supposed to go. Steve cannot just leave after Tony put himself out there, offering if not a new start at least a new path, one with fewer potholes.

“Why would you do that?” Tony asks, surprising himself when his voice raises almost to a yell. He is brimming with sudden irritation, making him restless. He wishes he would have something to take apart to keep his fingers busy. Instead, he simply drums them against the side of his leg.

Steve’s eyes widen, taken by surprise by the sudden shift of mood. “Because you –”

Despite having asked, Tony does not want to hear Steve’s reasoning. Anger flares hot inside him.

“You don’t get to run away now,” he barks, taking a step forward. That only makes it more obvious that he is smaller than Steve but he does not care. “When I asked you to leave me alone you didn’t, and now that I’m asking you to figure this out with me, you’re turning your back on me? Is this how you do things? On your terms or not at all?”

Perhaps he made a mistake by bringing Steve here, by thinking they could reclaim some autonomy over their fate together. They truly have been doomed from the very beginning if Steve will not do anything when he is not the one initiating it, when everybody has to dance after his tune.

Steve looks like he wants to run. Shoulders hunched, legs hip-width apart, staring at Tony as if he has just seen him for the first time. “I’m sorry, Tony,” he says and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

A laugh bursts over Tony’s lips, brittle but sharp. He has made it clear what he wants, Steve just does not listen.

“I want you to stay so we can make sense of this,” he says, enunciating each word as clearly as his agitation allows. His fingers burn with the need to poke them into Steve’s chest or to shake his shoulders until he sees sense. “I want us to get our shit together and see what will be best for us.”

The need to build a time machine to stop all of this from happening has never been so strong.

Steve crosses his arms, showing clearly that nothing will be solved easily here. “Me leaving will obviously be best for you since you’re having nightmares about me,” he says, probably aiming for a reasonable tone.

All Tony hears is excuses, the same worry he has to fight inside him but that he refuses to give in to.

“I had nightmares about you,” Tony yells, then bites his lip as he tries to compose himself. “And don’t you think it’s my decision to make what’s best for me? Think hard about your answer because if you say no, I’m going to kick you back to DC myself.”

This was a bad idea, Tony sees that now. They cannot spend more than a minute together in one room without arguing when Tony is not in acute danger. His heart is not equipped to take that much stress.

Steve turns and starts walking, leaving Tony convinced that he will just march out. Out of the tower and out of Tony’s life, never to be heard of again. He should not be disappointed by that.

Instead, Steve steers towards the couch and sits down, looking like his legs would not have carried him for much longer. He rubs his eyes, blinks at the ground, while Tony stays frozen where he stands.

“I just don’t know what made you change your mind,” Steve then says, looking at Tony with eyes older than his years. They are both terribly tired.

A sigh escapes Tony’s lips. He is not entirely sure his opinion on them has changed. His feelings have, however. While he pretends to be a brain person instead of listening to his heart, he cannot fool himself in this matter.

His energy drained, Tony walks over to an armchair and sits opposite from Steve. “You did. By staying. By being stubborn. By helping me out of this.” He smiles slightly, tasting the bitterness of it. “We’re not friends, Steve, but we’re not enemies anymore either.”

They could be more is what he does not say, does not know how. They could still make something of this, something less tainted.

Steve lets his head hang for a moment, then tilts it up to look at Tony. “So, what now?”

That is what they have come here to solve. Tony does not have all the answers. “Let me deal with my company but stay in New York. Stay here,” he says, almost pleading. If Steve will leave, they should at least have tried this first. “Don’t run away until we’ve made a decision either way.”

Nothing in Steve’s expression changes but the bond is pulsing too quickly for Steve to be unmoved. Then, of course, he has to open his mouth. “The decision is up to you.”

Tony shoots up from his seat, frustration driving him back to his feet. “It’s not, dammit,” he snaps, glaring at Steve despite beginning to think that this is hopeless. “You’ve been thrown into this the same way I was. You’ve nursed your grudge against me, no matter whether it was justified. You were willing to hurt me and I’ve seen by now that that’s not exactly standard for you.” He takes a deep breath before he continues, reaching for calm. “Being bonded to me cannot be easy for you, and I’m not going to decide anything for the both of us. We both have to come to a decision ourselves and then we have to stand by it.”

The bond is a two-way street. Steve is fighting it as much as Tony does. As he should, considering their history. They need to be honest with each other here, otherwise, it would be kinder on the both of them to separate now, before they get in any deeper.

Steve stays silent for too long, so long that Tony is certain the answer is not going to be in his favour.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Steve then says, so quiet that it is almost gets lost, Tony’s heart is beating so loud. Then Tony wishes it did, thinking that is no real argument to make.

“You can’t lose what you don’t have.” The words come out less harsh than Tony expected. He does not mean to lash out to hurt Steve. “Listen, we have obvious problems with each other. Not just with what happened, but with the grand picture, too. We live very different lives. We have had vastly different experiences up until now. I want you to find out what you want. Then we can talk again.”

That sounds like he is sending Steve away. And perhaps he is. Perhaps he just wants something permanent instead of this constant limbo, never knowing what is going to hit him next. How can he ask Steve to know what he wants when Tony does not manage to do the same?

“You think it’s that easy?” Steve asks, looking up at Tony with a shadow passing over his face.

Tony is rooted in place. He is tired but he does not want to sit back down again. It helps to be taller than Steve, if only for the moment. “Not at all,” he admits, leaning back against the armrest of the chair. He does not try to be subtle about it. “But I’m not going to navigate this before we’ve not both thought this through, and without our adrenaline levels still high.”

At this point, Tony feels the only two states he is ever in anymore are high on adrenaline and dead on his feet. There is no middle ground. Even in his workshop, he cannot stop thinking about everything that is happening, everything that is still coming.

Steve appears to shrink into the cushions, looking like he is not going to argue. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Tony says. He is sick of apologies, even while he is sure they are not done with those yet. Not by far. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

Surprise has Steve’s head shooting up, eyes wary. “For what?”

They do not have time for the entire list, even though it is running permanently in the back of Tony’s head. He can give Steve the short version, though, the ones that matter most in here. “Bucky’s arm. Sam’s partner. All the people I’ve killed.”

With a jerk, Steve moves forward. Even sitting down his hand almost reaches Tony. Again, he holds himself back.

“You haven’t killed anyone,” Steve says with a vehemence mirrored in his expression. “We were wrong to blame you for that. You shouldn’t take this on.”

It is a relief, hearing that conviction, even if Tony cannot really allow himself to believe it. Weeks ago, he was preaching about accountability to the press. He is not going to bow out already.

“They are still my weapons. My company,” Tony says, keeping his face calm even though each word stings like a fresh cut. “I didn’t know, but I should have.”

Should is one of the words Howard used to love. You should be better. You should not waste your time on irrelevant things. I should have left before I knew what a disappointment you would be.

Should is just a cover for a collection of failures. No one has ever made the world better by dealing with should-haves.

“That’s not –” Steve cuts himself off and just breathes for a moment while he looks at Tony, taking him in as if he might not get another chance. “All right, we’ll think about it, and then we’ll talk.”

Relief paints over the sliver of disappointment Tony feels inside his stomach. Part of him wants to have this argument now, wants to either be the villain or to be defended. Since Steve is promising him to talk later, though, chances are high they are not done

“Great,” Tony says, nodding to himself, slightly at a loss at being cut off in his tirade against himself. “Let me know whether you’ll take the suite, then I’ll send someone to key you into the system.”

He watches as Steve takes another long look at their surroundings. It is stupid, really. What was he thinking? That the man whose job involves way too many warehouses and back alleys, who lives in a secret base, would appreciate an apartment in the most visible building in New York? Ridiculous.

“I would like to stay,” Steve says, catching Tony completely off-guard. He even sounds earnest about it, eyes crinkling.

“Good, good,” Tony mutters, even while he still wonders whether he has misheard. He takes a step towards the exit, thinking he should go while Steve’s verdict is still in his favour. “I might need some time. There’s just so much to do for the company.”

This is not just an excuse. Since Pepper has officially taken over, Tony’s schedule has only gotten worse. He trusts her to know what she is doing, though, and they have scraped disaster close enough for him to be on his best behaviour.

“I understand,” Steve says, showing no sign of impatience, even though Tony is basically pushing him away right after insisting they need to talk. “Call me when you have the time.”

Time will not be the problem. Tony has always been good at making time for the things that are most important to him. Alas, he is also good at procrastinating when it comes to emotional matters.

“And you tell me to stay away if you need more time to think,” Tony insists. He meant that this is a two-sided matter.

Tony has been pushed around all his life, he does not want to do the same to Steve.

“I will,” Steve promises. The curve of his brow speaks of his stubbornness. “But, Tony, if you have any more nightmares about me – just tell me.”

Tony will most definitely not. New nightmare material has accumulated, enough so that Tony is sure Steve will not feature much. Why would he, when real monsters are lurking in the shadows of Tony’s mind?

Still, the smile Tony manages is brittle around the edges. “That only makes sense if you’d actually stay away this time.”

He regrets his words a bit when Steve’s expression falls, giving way to something dark, full of haunting regret.

“I would,” Steve says in a grave tone. “I promise you.”

There is nothing else to do but believe him. Tony knows liars and whatever else Steve might be, he is not that. Less clear is why Tony feels a stab at hearing that, as if Steve leaving, even at Tony’s behest, would actually be a loss.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

They look at each other for a moment longer, no more words between them. Then Tony nods and turns, telling himself he is not fleeing.

He feels Steve’s eyes in his back as he walks back down the hall to the elevator, and when he is out of sight, the feeling is still echoed through the bond. He is not at all sure whether he has made the right decision. At the same time, he is glad that Steve is here. That is a step forward at last. Now they just have to make something of it.

#stony #slow burn #fanfiction #tony stark #steve rogers #soulmates #marvel #they're getting there #my writing #ao3 #leave the gun on the table #also life is still crazy #lanzelot is dead #my fish #which means merlin is now all alone and glaring at me #or he's hungry #probably the latter

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amberandmetal · 5 years

Text

Are you strange like me?

Written for: @youngmoneymillas 5k challenge Squares filled: First kiss for @buckybarnesbingo and Touch starvation for @marvelfluffbingo (there is fluff at the end, I swear that counts!) Prompt: “I think there’s a flaw in my code/These voices won’t leave me alone/Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold (Gasoline – Halsey)” Pairing: Bucky x F!reader Warnings: Angst O´hoy. There are PTDS elements, anxiety and panic etc but not too much (and there is fluffy flufflfuff at the end because that’s just the rules, mkay?), mentions of war and being kidnapped, touch starvation mentioned. Rating: Teen and up Word count: ca 3,5 k Summary: After the war you need somewhere to belong, and The Avengers need someone to make them look good. A/N: Yeah, this got a life of it’s own. Not really how I initially planned it but I’m happy with how it turned out. I’m surprised at myself for keeping it clean (seriously, who am I?) I have little to no knowledge of military jargong and workings so if there are any mistakes please let me know and I will fix. English is my 2nd language and this is unbetad so all mistakes are mine.

Tony’s brown eyes felt just as enigmatic and piercing even through the television screen, whiskey and liquid intelligence peering at the interviewer from behind thick sunglasses slid down to the tip of his nose; and on the side of him, smaller, grey, bland, were you, looking every bit as uncomfortable as you had felt.

You grabbed the flesh between clavicle and chest, kneading and scratching the skin where the weight of your medals had hung only hours ago, where the echo of them still made it hard for you to breathe.

“She’s a perfect addition to the team and she’s been adapting beautifully. We’re really proud to have another veteran amongst our midst,” Tony clapped a proud hand on your shoulder and flashed the camera one of his legendary PR-smiles “we’re lucky to have her.”

“Ugh.” You clicked the TV off and turned around on the couch, laying with your face towards the cushions.

The Avengers had been in deep water after the latest attack on New York, more and more of the masses forgetting what they’d done for them — and where they would be if they hadn’t. Acting- and calling them out for the destruction and desolation. Anger fueled by fear leading them in a search for a focus point to target their pain. The team needed to make a move to get in the people’s good graces again.

And then there were you.

After the war nothing had been the same. Before when you closed your eyes there had been darkness and calm behind your eyelids, an ethereal vastness that relaxed you, allowed you to breathe before opening them again. A refuge in your daily ongoings.

After there had been nothing but gunsmoke and ash, billowing from the depths you stared into each time you closed your eyes. Wretched stench of putrefied flesh simmering in the smoke and seeping into your skin from behind your eyelids, digging tunnels in your fibers, filling your nose and mouth with dry sand and bile.

You gasped, back shooting out from the couch as if you could escape the waking nightmare sticking to the inside of your skull. It burned at your temples like electricity.

The official statement was that you were a normal soldier, a gunner, that had been captured and held captive, then somehow managed to not only break yourself out, but the other seven soldiers stuck in that hellhole beside you as well; and you’d gotten mighty decorated for it.

You scoffed. Decorated, sure, and forced to lie.

There had been nothing normal about you, or what happened. No one spoke a word of the special ops you’d been a part of, or that the people that had held you captive had neither been Al-qaeda or even the Taliban. It had been Hydra. The Nazi science division that you’d been told in school had been taken down by Captain America.

Cut off one head, and two will take its place. Uh-huh, yep.

That was not the only lie you’d been told, or been forced to tell. The seven other captives were more like hundreds, hundreds of lives that you’d left behind when you managed to flee with only a small group as the others were left being tortured and experimented on. Their screams stayed with you, a never ending echo in the hollow of your mind.

The other seven —among them a woman named Grace, a fellow american with black hair and even blacker eyes, and a smile that refused to be beaten down— had been taken down during your escape. Grace had clutched her chest as the blood from it sprayed across your arm, she’d fallen, roaring at you to go, to run, to ‘fucking save yourself, damnit!’. You’d gotten out with only a bullet wound through your right hand and left shoulder, and a newfound weight in your chest.

According to your Officer the public didn’t need to know that the people you saved didn’t survive, only that you had freed them.

“Remember, Sergeant. You gave them the gift of dying free. That’s quite something.”

Yeah well, they didn’t look free, and it sure as hell didn’t feel like a gift.

Survivor’s guilt your shrink called it. Whatever.

You kneaded the spot where your medals had hung. The Medal of Honor and the Prisoner of War among others. You shuddered; revulsion tumbling in your gut. It was a torment wearing them- but it was, as they say, a necessary evil.

When you’d returned you couldn’t, just as many others, get back to your normal life; a decade of training and war had taken a toll and you weren’t the same. The trauma clung to your spine like a ball and chain slowly turning your vertebrates into lead. It had made a home for itself there in your back, cozying up in the hollow where neck meets skull, safe where you couldn’t reach.

You had been tethering on the edge of insanity when you’d finally broken down and pleaded with your Captain to let you back out there, and thankfully, blissfully, he had —albeit a bit reluctant— agreed. But it wasn’t the same. Suddenly you couldn’t work with your group, too on edge, too hyper aware and too concerned by your teammates safety. Once you were back your team had started out on a small mission, delicate but nothing you couldn’t handle — or that’s how it should have been. You had once been like a well oiled machine and now you were falling apart. So you got discharged, told it just wasn’t a good fit anymore, which was a “real shame considering.”

So The Avengers needed too look good, and you needed a place where you could belong. And nothing gets you back into America’s good graces as a decorated veteran.

So here you were.

Here you were..

~~~

The sound of opening and closing doors followed by laughter made your ears perk up. Steve and Bucky back from their morning run, from the sounds of it. Steve’s laughter easy and full and Bucky’s quieter, more of a chuckle — deep and tense. Always so tense.

Bucky had adapted relatively quickly to life at the compound, but he still kept mostly to himself. Steve, of course, had made it his life’s mission to draw the old Bucky out, teasing and joking with him, taking him back to Coney Island, practically dragging him out of his room for Team bonding nights (usually movie nights, but sometimes you played video games, and one particularly memorable evening Clint had persuaded the entire team into playing Twister. He lost. Every time), yet it never felt sincere from Bucky’s side. He did try. You could see it in the shape of his stance, the frustration burning in his eyes in spite of the broad grin he managed to apply for Steve. Still it looked less like two friends hanging out and enjoying down time together and more like a frightened animal trying to appease it’s rescuer.

You had no idea if anyone else noticed it, but you had a pretty big clue that Steve had caught on. Every once in a while Bucky would look away, trying his damndest to laugh at one of Tony’s jokes, and something arduous would set in the blue of Steve’s eyes like stone.

Both men came through the doors, sweat darkening their clothes and making them glisten in the morning sun.

“Good run?”

Steve almost jumped.

“Oh, hi Y/n. Yeah, Bucky still aint got shit on me though.” he laughed and shook Bucky’s shoulder playfully. Bucky flinched slightly at the contact, but quickly managed to correct himself, quirking the corner of his mouth in a half smile and raising his hand in greeting.

“Language,” you admonished with a wink before letting your eyes land softly on Bucky and offering a small smile “Morning, Buck.”

He huffed a little, a twitch in his smile: a mirroring sensation in your chest.

Steve looked between the both of you with a raised brow.

“Yeah, okay. Gotta hit the showers! You too, punk— you reek.”

Something light flashed in Bucky’s eyes and his smile grew almost sincere.

“Do not gimme that, you’re the punk. Always were.”

“Yeah, but that was before I hit my growth spurt!”

You snorted at the same moment Bucky did, sniggering under your breath.

Steve looked absolutely delighted.

“Some growth spurt..” Bucky mumbled following Steve towards the elevators.

~~~

The anxiety was a physical thing. It was birthed out of every patch of skin where you had been touched, ebbing out like crests until you were covered in it — sticky and suffocating, viscous and disgusting, and you were painted from tip to toe.

You cursed yourself under your breath for not thinking it through. The PR-people had of course wanted you to wear your dress uniform and you had simply refused, thinking ‘no, no anything but that. Going naked would be better than that’ and after some coaxing from Tony and Miss Potts they had relented. What a mistake it had been.

Now there you were, locked in your room in a gorgeous gown that showed more skin than not, after a night of having been passed around like a basket of breadsticks.

Smile for the camera.

Oh hi, hello, why yes I am she, yes I did save those soldiers.

Handshake.

Anything for my country.

Laugh.

Oh yes, they have been treating me real nice.

Hugs.

Touches.

Gooseflesh.

Panic.

Bile.

Two hours were all you could take and when Pepper had called to a toast you saw your chance and took it. Now your clothes pooled in a trail on the floor leading to your bathroom as you hurried into the spray.

The daffodil-yellow loofah quickly worked up a lather, the sudds slightly pink and smelling of strawberries and cream, a welcome softness after the sharp and biting too harsh reality of the party. Scrubbing up and down your body your muscles started to untense, the coating of dread coming off like shedded skin. A sigh escaped your lips: you could breathe again.

Of course, you had agreed to all of this, to help, to be this shining face and PR circus for the team, because it also meant that you in fact were a part of said team. Skillset-wise you were absolutely up to par with both Barton and Romanoff and they all seemed genuinely happy to have you. But this.. facade, was the price you had to pay, and you gladly did — did not mean it didn’t hurt to do it though.

Hair washed and every inch of your skin thoroughly scrubbed pink you got out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a big fluffy robe, sighing at the comforting slide of cotton against your bones.

You exhaled loudly, slumping down on your bed, ignoring the trilling ringtone of your phone in favour of the fluffy pillows that gave way for your weight like a hug. Pepper would have to wait.

~~~

Tap, tap, tap.

A soft knock on your door snapped you out of focus. Not in the mood for company you hesitated, even though knowing fully well who was on the other side of that door. Metal on metal gave a much sharper sound than flesh.

“Bucky?” you opened the door ajar.

He looked a bit sheepish and apologetic, hunched in the empty corridor.

“Hey, Y/n… you okay?”

You shrugged, but then looked him over. He was doing a good job of holding it together but you could see the signs: the nervous tapping of his fingers against the wall, his skin a shade paler than usual and his eyes flickering from point to point, not stilling for more than a few seconds.

“Are you?”

Abalone eyes flitted to yours — so bright, so sharp.

“Of course,” he tried for a smile “I just wanted to check on you. You kinda took off like somebody burned ya.”

You huffed.

“Yeah, well.. I wasn’t as prepared as I thought I was for-.. for everything.”

Nodding he ran a hand through his hair, a scent sent wafting. Your skin turned effervescent.

“You wanna come in?”

There was no mistaking the gratefulness softening his gaze.

You backed up to let him in, careful to lock the door behind him.

He sat down on your bed, his eyes snapping across your room and his fingers tapping away at his thigh.

“Howd’ya manage to make it so… homey so fast?”

You followed his gaze to your walls, the paintings and curiosities covering them, the shelves with figurines and too many plants, the bookcase littered with books and notebooks and the deep teal coloured couch with more cushions than actual space for sitting.

You plopped down next to him, careful of keeping your robe from slipping.

“I don’t know, I just can’t stand cold walls.”

A beat of silence followed, hardening the air. Always this damn feeling when he got close, every time.

“You write?” he asked, pointing at your notebook lying open on your nightstand.

“Sometimes,” you hesitated “mostly to clear my head. My shrink down at the VA suggested it.”

“Oh, that’s right.. I forgot - Steve told me but I guess it slipped my mind. A lot o-”

“of new information.”, you finished in unison.

He chuckled and scratched at his neck, making strands the shade of dark rosewood fall and shield his face. The close proximity made your skin tingle.

“May I?”, he gestured toward the open pages “or maybe you can read me something?”

There was something vulnerable there, something sweet and wistful — somber.

You reached for the notebook and scooted closer and Bucky shot up like he had been burned.

You peered up at him.

“Why do you do that?”

“I- fuck, I’m sorry. I-”

“Why? I mean I’ve seen you.. even when Steve touches you, you flinch.”

Bucky looked taken aback for a second but then seemed to slump, a tired exhale leaving his lungs like it had been forced out of him.

“It’s that obvious?”

You backed up a bit.

“Tell me.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I do.”

He looked hesitant for a second.

“I haven’t been touched in a.. positive way, in a long time. Truth be told I’m starved for it, all I want is to feel that connection, I mean it’s all I dream about when it’s not the nightmares.. but-”

“Then why?”

“- but when it’s sudden, when I’m not ready for it. It burns. It’s too much, too fast and it’s unsettling. I hate it. It’s like getting what you want but not on your own terms and the sensation on my skin gets overwhelming.. and.. fuck, yeah I think that’s the gist of it,” he wrought his hands together, looking away “I’m sorry, I’m still adjusting.”

He looked so beautiful, even like this. Even in pain and confused his presence took up the room, changed the atmosphere into whatever it was that was Bucky. The scent of him in your nostrils, bergamot and cedar, and the heavy weight of him dipping your bed, and you so badly wanted to inch closer, to reach out and touch, feel if he’s as warm as he looks, giving him something of that that he craves, being a balm to soothe, to hush, to lull.

“So.. if you were ready for it?”

His eyes blinked up to yours.

You got closer, sitting on your knees with an outstretched hand, close enough to touch without in fact doing so.

“…if you know I’m going to touch you, if you can.. ready yourself then maybe, it won’t feel like that?”

His eyes got soft then, filled with something you couldn’t find a word for, and he turned on the bed to face you fully.

“That’s very sweet of you, doll— mind if I call ya that?” you shook your head “mind reading me some of your texts?— is it poetry?”

You smiled, shy and full lipped.

Spreading open the book, you flipped to where you had been writing last and pulled it into his lap, careful as to not touch.

“Here.. it’s kind of morbid but..”

“Yeah, hush. No self deprecation, that’s my thing. Let me make up my own mind about it.”

You chuckled but conceded.

“MJ?”

“Mary jane.”

You chuckled at the confusion still present on his face.

“Marijuana.”

“Ah.”

You looked on closely, nervous as he read once, twice, three times.

“You hate it,” you said “I get it, it’s a bit extreme and maybe not what you’re used to but it’s just my thoughts going haywire and shit you know a-”

“I like it.”

“Huh?”

“I like it. Is this how you feel? The PR thing? Everything?”

“Basically, but it’s just thoughts, words on paper. Emotions. It’s still worth it.”

He nodded, going back to read it a fourth time.

“It’s unusual, I’ll give you that but, it’s .. beautiful in it’s strange way.. and very- very relatable,” he looked up, face suddenly so earnest and open it was almost startling “especially the last part,” he huffed and a hint of bitterness momentarily crept into his voice “I can safely say I know what it’s like to feel like there’s a flaw in my code..”

A breath. Shaking himself out of it.

“I don’t really write myself but, I can see myself in this. In your texts. A lot of this- I mean I’ve had similar thoughts,” he smiled.

The hard air around you grew thick, hanging around your heads like cottony molasses. You looked up from your text, eyes scanning the shape of him. Something urgent took root somewhere close to your solar plexus.

“Can I touch you?”

He was stock still for a moment or two, but then he nodded.

You scooted a little bit closer, your movements slow and cautious; tentative. The back of his hand was a contrast of soft and rough against your palm. Soft hairs and raised scars.

A deep yet quiet groan sounded from somewhere buried inside him — you looked up just in time to see something in his features breaking.

“Is it too much? Should I stop? I -”

He shook his head.

“No.. please.”

Your heart sped up — a cassette set on fast forward. You opened the cuffs of his sleeve and set to gingerly and very slowly roll them up to his elbow. His breathing turned heavy and deep: an odd mixture of tension coupled with relief.

Stretching your fingers you splayed your hand out over his skin, calmly stroking: his hand, wrist, forearm. You were so close now, so near, the warmth of him was a tangible thing against your exposed skin. A crescendo beat hammered in your chest.

“Can I kiss you?”

Surprised, you met his gaze. Abalone shells, sea glass beneath water, thunderclouds and liquid silver and every other simile that came to mind and none of them did his eyes justice. A chilled tingle enveloped your skull and flooded down your spine. You nodded.

“Let me.”

You slowly moved, put your hand on the side of his neck, revelling in the sigh you got in return, gasping when he mirrored you.

His lips were dry, plump, warm. A soft cushion against your own. You opened to let his lower lip in between yours, letting your tongue taste for the first time. Salt and metal, twilight and heat.

His metal arm came up behind your back, pulling you in with a metallic whirr until you were flush against him, and you gave out a sharp whine.

He immediately let go.

“Shit! Did I scare ya? I didn’t think—”

You blinked at him, then heat flushed your cheeks.

“Yeah, no.. not what happened, Barnes.”

He quirked an eyebrow, and you simply grabbed his arm and put it back around you, allowing a tiny moan escape your lips to get your point across.

The chuckle that elicited from him was deep and disbelieving.

“Better than scared I guess.”

“You guess?”

He grinned and surged back to claim your mouth; the smile growing against your lips genuine enough to taste.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #flangst #marvelfluffbingo #buckybarnesbingo2019 #eliza's 5k challenge #bucky barnes #fluff

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dirt2tidy-australia · 5 years

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inawickedlittletown · 5 years

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Walking The Wire (161/163)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Sixty

The first thing that Steve did once he’d stepped into the portal and over to another planet was step towards Tony. Tony was there first, reaching for him. Steve fell right into the hug and then a few moments later, Peter was there hugging them both and Steve knew the world was right again. They’d done it. He turned slightly, bringing an arm around Peter’s shoulders.

“I said you’d make it out too,” Peter said.

“I know, Pete.” It was good to see him away from the orange tones of the Soul Stone.

When Peter stepped back, Steve had eyes only for Tony and he could see how much Tony’s eyes glinted with unshed tears. There was anger and pain there and Steve knew it was his fault -- he didn’t regret it at all even if it was clear that he had put Tony through something.

When Steve’s hands had touched him, his fingers brushing tears away before they had a chance to fall very far, Tony melted under his touch and he took in a breath, shuddering as his eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into Steve’s touch.

“You’re never leaving me like that again,” Tony told him in a whisper.

“Never,” Steve whispered back and Steve drew him into his chest and Tony let out a breath as he pressed his face into Steve’s neck. Steve breathed him in and closed his eyes and everything felt right. He had Tony in his arms, Peter was just a few feet away, and Thanos had been dealt with.

“You know I had to,” Steve said, low and just for them. “The choice was me or you and Peter needs you more. The world needs you more.”

“But I need you,” Tony said.

“Not as much as you think,” Steve said and it was true. Tony would have survived if he had really died as much as he might try to deny it. Tony would have done it for Peter and for the others and Steve would have become just a memory.

Tony let him go after a long moment and then he turned away and Steve noticed their audience. None of them seemed to be bothered by them, though. He saw Natasha’s smile and the way that Nebula was almost smiling.

Natasha hugged him and then Thor picked him up off the floor just because he could. Carol offered him a handshake and Scott grinned and hugged him awkwardly, letting go quickly and looking like he was about to offer an apology.

“I’m not hugging you,” Rocket said just as Rhodey’s hand landed on Steve’s shoulder.

“Good to have you back, Cap.”

“Good to be back,” Steve returned.

Clint did hug him and he looked emotional and clearly ready to get back home and back to his returned family. Actually, almost everyone looked ready to leave, even those that actually belonged somewhere out in space. But then, they all did need to regroup, and the planet they were currently on didn’t look like it would be habitable for any of them.

Strange got them all back to Earth using a portal and the first person they saw when they arrived at the compound was Nick Fury. Maria Hill was not far behind.

“Right,” he said, “so here you lot are at last. The only people that might know what’s actually up and how we’re going to deal with the whole world in shambles.”

“You mean the world we saved,” Tony said. “Including you.”

Carol stepped around Tony and Steve, then, and whatever Fury was going to say died on his lips. “Carol Danvers.”

“Hey,” Carol said with a smile. “I got your page.”

Steve had never seen Fury so pleased to see someone. If he were a hugger, Steve was sure that Fury would gone and hugged Carol, but as it was, he instead gave her a smile and a nod which was more than any of them got from him most days.

“The only one around here with any answers was Ms. Potts and she’s too busy with your company to do much,” Fury said, directing his gaze at Tony. “But we need a plan. People are confused, they don’t know what happened and no one has offered any explanation. Some people are talking about that orange world we were all in, but not many. They need some answers and those should come from you.”

Steve hadn’t seen Fury in the stone. Then again, after finding Peter and Bucky, he hadn’t exactly been looking for anyone else. Maybe he should have.

Tony sighed. “Fine.”

Steve touched his elbow and Tony smiled back at him.

“What do you want to do?” Steve asked.

“Well, I was planning on marrying you, but I guess that’s going to have to come second to everything else.”

He could tell that Tony was joking but that there was some truth mixed in too. The thing of it was that there really was a lot for them to still do including putting the stones back. The aftermath of The Decimation and getting society back to normal wasn’t exactly their responsibility, but Fury was right in that they alone knew everything that happened and people needed answers.

Carol walked ahead of them and into the compound with Fury at her side and he could tell that they were catching up. The others started following, but Tony stayed behind and so did Peter.

“Strange,” Tony said, “I think it might be useful if you pop into Wakanda and get the rest of The Avengers back and maybe even T’Challa if he’s available.”

That was a start.

And even though he’d seen both Sam and Bucky in the stone and for a time he’d caught a glimpse of Wanda, he was excited to see them again outside of the stone.

“I guess there’s no rest for the weary,” Tony said.

---

Fury mostly just wanted to talk to him, Steve, and Carol. Tony didn’t really want to part with Peter, but he could tell that Peter was getting a bit antsy with not having seen May yet. So, when he realized that Strange had created a portal for Clint to go to his family and for Scott to go to his, he asked if he could send Peter to see May.

“Are you sure, dad? I don’t want to--”

“Look, kid, I’m going to be busy for a few hours and it’s best you go now. You don’t want to keep her waiting. I’m surprised she hasn’t called/ See your friends too.”

“Yes, definitely go see MJ,” a newly arrived Sam said and Peter stuck his tongue out at him.

Tony had been there to witness Peter hugging Barnes -- almost as if Barnes were his best friend and not Steve’s. But Steve had hugged Barnes next with the same excitement while Tony greeted Sam.

“They bonded,” Steve told him, “while they were in the stone.”

“Oh. That’s good that he had someone.”

“Yeah,” Steve said and then Tony watched him go check on Wanda.

Wanda stuck close to Natasha and had ever since they’d been returned and Tony knew that she had to be taking it hard being back and Vision still being gone. Their only loss, it seemed.

He, Steve, and Carol sat with Fury and together they came up with a plan of sorts and somehow Fury got the returned President and the Vice President on a video call to explain it all to them. At some point, they’d called Rhodey in too seeing as he’d been the one primarily dealing with the government before.

In the end, it came down to the UN and the Accords council and a version of the truth was drafted to tell the public. It was mostly true and Tony didn’t really care as long as people stopped freaking out.

At some point, Pepper arrived with her own numerous lists of things mostly to do with SI and how the company and Tony were going to help with the aftermath. They’d already been doing a lot back when the snap first happened, but Pepper wanted to do even more and she wanted Tony’s input. All of that of course came after she hugged him and hit him and after hugging everyone that had returned to them, she asked about Peter, and looked only a little deflated when Tony told her he was with May.

By the time that everything was decided and Fury somehow convinced Carol and Steve to be the ones to give the news out to everyone in a pre-recorded video, Tony felt more than ready to collapse. Too much happened way too soon and they still had a lot more to do. The most important being the stones that needed to go back to the past -- to exactly where and when they had been taken from. It was one of the few things they were leaving off for another day.

Tony was so tired that he didn’t even have the energy to ask after the living tree that Rocket was talking to in a corner. So when Steve touched his back, Tony let himself rest back into him.

“I think everything is set up for tomorrow. We don’t have to worry about anything else, want to go home?”

Tony nodded. “Better words have not been spoken. But, I’m still a little mad at you.”

Steve chuckled and kissed his cheek. “I did it because I needed to. For you. For Peter.”

“I know and I love you for it. I want to marry you for it.”

---

Doctor Strange delivered him into May’s living room which was luckily empty, because Peter didn’t think that May could have handled him arriving via portal well at all.

“May?” he called out.

The house looked mostly the same and it was a good sign that it was clean and normal and that May hadn’t let it fall apart. It meant that maybe she was handling things better than Peter had expected.

“May?” he called again.

He walked towards the kitchen and found a few dishes on the sink but not much else, but when he turned, May was just outside the kitchen, standing completely still and with a hand covering her mouth.

“Peter, is it really you?”

“Yeah. May, haven’t you heard, we’re all back. My dad and The Avengers -- they did it.”

“Oh,” May said and then she stepped forward and Peter met her half way and hugged her and he could feel her shaking. She was crying and clinging to him and Peter felt so much absolute relief at being with her again.

“Are you okay? What was it like? I couldn’t imagine -- when Tony told me, it was--”

“It wasn’t bad. Painless. It was just kind of boring but I wasn’t alone and we were safe until they brought us back.”

May nodded and she pulled back from the hug, her hands lifting to cup his cheek and look at his face. She seemed to be assessing him and making sure that he was all really there.

“And your dad? Everyone else? Everyone okay?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. They’re all okay. Everyone’s good and Thanos is gone.”

May told him about the last few months and how horrible things had been. She told him about the accidents that occurred when the snap happened and how the governments of the world were in shambles.

“I don’t know how much worse things could have gotten,” May said. “Mostly I just spent my time hoping and wishing you’d come back. Your friends kept coming by and that helped a lot -- they’ll want to see you.”

Peter nodded quickly. “I want to see them too. Ned and MJ.” Saying her name made him blush a little and Peter didn’t know if it was because he really did have a crush or because of all the teasing Sam and Bucky had given him.

He stayed with May for a while longer. She made him a sandwich and they turned on the tv, but there was mostly news coverage on everything that happened and Peter wasn’t too keen on seeing it. He kind of wanted to forget that it had happened at all. So May turned it off and Peter told her about what it had been like to be in space and in the Soul Stone. He tried not to tell her too much about how much danger he’d been in, but she seemed to have already been aware.

“I yelled at your dad after he came to see me. He looked horrible and I knew that but I--” she trailed off and Peter could see a glint of guilt in her eyes. “I was just really upset and I blamed him even though I guess you would have disappeared wherever you were.”

“I think he blamed himself too,” Peter said. “It’s okay, May.” He hugged her again for a long time.

Instead of going to see Ned or Michelle and getting in the way of their reunions with whatever family members had been dusted, Peter sent them both texts letting them know that he was back and well. Neither responded immediately. Instead, a text from Tony came in.

Peter, I Am Your Father: Steve and I are going back to the tower for the night. Let me know if you’re staying with May or coming home.

He stayed with May a bit longer and managed to get on her computer to see for himself what was happening. He asked May if she wanted to go to the tower with him, but May shook her head and he could tell that she wished he would stay with her, but she didn’t push it.

“I’ll be back soon, May,” Peter said before hugging her. “I just--”

“Your dad. I know,” May said. “Call and visit soon, though. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

Peter decided to swing to the tower and it felt amazing to be back in New York and when he got close enough to see the tower from afar, he couldn’t help but smile wider because he really was home.

Chapter One Hundred Sixty Two

#peter and tony #peter and tony fic #mcuwriting #mcu fic #iron dad #iron dad and spider son #stony #stony fic #marvel

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ofmorninglory · 5 years

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im not well versed in crossover AU's in general but go off about them anyway lay it on me

//screams// Guys, Tea is a Literal Blessing™ and I absolutely don’t deserve all this validation but I will soak up on it.

So, the other day I was going through my Ao3 and I realized literally everything I do, ever, is a crossover, so I guess that’s kind of my thing now. Room Enough AU, however, is literally The Crossover™, you know? I have to admit I’ve been working on plotting it for way too many years (I think it was 2016; I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a hot minute) so it’s so much bigger in my head than what I actually have written. Some of the info I’ve managed to actually jot down somewhere is in this little tag right here, but I’m here to provide the basics on what Room Enough AU is and why it’s so important to me.

Under the cut, to keep your dashes clean, my lovelies!

Room Enough for All of Us is a crossover AU between Marvel and DC (because who didn’t see that coming, right?). While most of the crossovers for these franchises I’ve seen and read all start with Bruce and Clark meeting Steve and Tony (who, arguably, are each other’s counterparts) and while I absolutely adore the idea of billionaire Bruce Wayne becoming friends with billionaire Tony Stark, and Clark and Steve bonding over, you know, being seen as literal beings of perfection, Room Enough AU (which we’ll shorten as REAU from now on, although that’s a name I’ve never used for it, but there’s always a first for everything, you know?) actually starts with Tony Stark, betrayed and broken after IM, meeting (or rather, meeting again) one very problematic and highly-skilled pilot, Harold Jordan.

After the events of IM and Tony being betrayed by one of the people he trusted most in the world, Stark Industries starts undergoing heavy restructuring (am I using the right word? Google Translate says so) and among all of these shifts and changes, Pepper insists that he gets a new pilot for his private plane. He goes to Ferris Air, of course, because it’s in California and he’s had contracts with them for years, and when he gets there, there’s this one roudy pilot who manages to not only evade all of the Stark Training Drones in the air, but actually destroys all of them in the process. Tony wants this pilot. He does. He recognizes under-paid talent when he sees it.

Hal has absolutely zero idea of what is happening when Tony offers him the position as his private pilot. Jordan is not all that enthusiastic about being some rich kid’s pilot-for-hire, but after the stunt he’s just pulled? He really should think about getting a new job. Hal doesn’t say yes outright, of course not, he’s got more dignity than that, but Tony just won’t let up.

Not only is Tony Stark some rich billionaire he doesn’t want to be working for either, he’s also one of Hal’s one-night-stands from two years ago. Is Tony fazed at all by this? He is not! Tony Stark is stubborn and he doesn’t care about anything other than getting this man a better salary.

Tony spends about 300 weeks trying to get Hal to actually agree to the job, it’s ridiculous. His gifts are expensive, and they get more extravagant the more time goes on. He even gets Hal Captain rank back for him (if that allowed? I do not know, I have yet to research on this, this is actually a very new development born in the REAU discord chat). Hal draws the line when a Rolex ends up at his home (one of the fancy, classic ones, too, with the green cover) and Jordan calls Tony to tell him to back off.

Twenty minutes later, Hal is agreeing to working for Stark. Carol fired his ass after that whole fiasco with the drones (”They were due for an upgrade, anyways! They’re old and I could do so much better, Ferris! It’s not a big deal.”) so he has to find a way to pay the goddamn bills or move in with Barry, and he doesn’t want to intrude on his best friend like that.

Plus, he loves the sky. Maybe this job isn’t so bad.

Against all odds, and with a lot of difficulties and obstacles, Tony and Hal actually start bonding. Except, whoops, Tony is dying from palladium poisoning, and just as our favorite green boy is warming up to the idea of not only being Tony’s pilot but also his friend, Stark suddenly does a 180 on him and completely backs away.

(It doesn’t help Hal’s confusion that Tony spent the first few weeks of his employment literally changing everything about his life. He gives his company away to Pepper Potts, starts a mentor-apprentice program in which he is the mentor and this girl from Mexico is the apprentice, and just generally starts becoming a Good Man™, in Hal’s eyes.)

Long story short (to wrap this one up, because I could go on for years) Hal finds out Tony is dying with a little help from Natasha (who Hal decidedly stops liking when he finds out she’s been lying to Tony, but who he’ll warm up to again, eventually, and because she loves Barry a whole lot and keeps his boyfriend safe and happy) and then it’s a race against time to save Stark’s life.

And because there is no one smarter (or faster) that Hal Jordan knows, he calls his good buddy The Flash into Tony’s Malibu home and tells Stark that Barry will help him or “so help me god, Anthony Edward Stark, I will find a way to bring your back from death to kill you myself”. When Tony is saved and Barry and him have managed to destroy his entire home, Hal feels like he can breathe again, and Allen smiles at him this sort of way when he catches his shoulders lose all the tension. (”wHAT? WHAT IS IT BARRY?” “You wanted to keep him safe” “He pays my salary, of course I wanted to keep him alive” “Harold” “Bartholomew”)

So, Tony and Hal? They’re really, really good friends. Hal would probably die for Tony, and Tony would absolutely lay down on the wire to let Hal pass (take that, Steve). From the outside, they’re an unlikely pai, except when you look at it closer, they’re literally the only way universes could collide. Barry actually saw it coming from a mile away, but Hal refused to let Tony into his life (Hal is used to everyone leaving; Barry is the exception, of course he is, but that’s Barry there’s no one purer, nicer, or kinder in this whole wide world).

After that, it’s just a lot of JL/Avengers shenanigans, mostly around Barry, Hal, Tony and Steve, once he comes along (and he and Barry aren’t at each other’s throats anymore). It follows losely through IM2, Avengers, probably IM3 (because Harvey Keener) and CA:WS (Barry and Steve bonding!), only to diverge somewhere between that and Age of Ultron (that doesn’t exist, to be all that much honest). I’ve plotted some of the things I want to happen, but since I’m messy and don’t have enough attention span to STAY FOCUSED, I’m still trying to figure out a lot of things.

I’m probably going into Avengers Assemble at some point and work with that. There are some DC storylines I think would fit nicely in there, but I have big gaps in my comic knowledge, so I really have to search for the right things to put.

The funny thing about REAU, however, is how much it has intoxicated every single of my other aus. All of the works that you can find in my Ao3 (right over here) are different iterations of this crossover, brought into different scenarios.

We have Coffee Shop AU, my first non-powered baby whom I love and cherish very much and hopefully will finish one day. We have Hotel AU which is so weird and I have no idea where it came from, but it’s there and it’s some very sweet Clintasha. There’s Prom AU/Childhood Friends AU! That’s sweet and fluffy and features sticker stars and red crayons. We have dumb diner au! The newest published addition to the line of non-powered aus! They’re all great, they’re mostly always the same characters, the same groups of friends (in most non-powered AUs, Steve and Barry don’t hate each other. In fact, usually they know each other from a very long time, along with Bucky, and Steve protects Barry with every ounce of whoop-ass he is) and there’s always some cute-meet that ends up in halbarry ending up together (because yes, they’re all mostly halbarry with a side of stony bcs I’m trash) I’m currently writing blubarry au for halbarry week (which I miscalculated) and it’s actually turned into Paramedic/Blubarry AU and it has absolutely gotten out of control (I’ve finished what could be a first instalment at 13k) and there’s aladdin au for stony that’s still in process and is also a crossover.

Aaaaaaand that’s mostly it, jsjsjsjsj I’m sorry this was so long! I’m so passionate about REAU and all my non-powered aus that it’s overwhelming some times!

Also, that post you did about Natasha? I felt that. My favorite Natasha is the Natasha who gets to be dorky, and cute, and who laughs at and with her friends. My favorite Natasha takes one look at Barry and goes “this one is mine now and if you hurt him I’ll make sure you pay dire consequences”. My favorite Natasha is Natasha painting Tony’s nails on girl’s night (that Tony always crashes, but he also sponsors the whole thing, so it’s alright). My favorite Natasha laughs like a hyenna when Clint makes a dent into their wall because he’s an idiot. My favorite Natasha is Dinah’s best woman, standing right by her, and wiping tears from her eyes without anyone seeing because she still wants to look at least a little bit tough. My favorite Natasha is so beloved by everyone who meets her and I’m !!!!! crying !!!!!

#;ask the author #au;room enough for all of us #i'M ACTUALLY CRYING YOU LET ME WRITE ALL THIS DOWN #Hal Jordan #tony stark #teatitty

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thatcleaningcrew · 1 year

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beaujackson · 5 years

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#Bond cleaning Potts point #End of lease cleaning Potts point

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a-aliceallen-love · 5 years

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End of lease cleaning Sydney - Dirt2tidy

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timeisacephalopod · 6 years

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Post Averages pre everything else, Tony's having a bad day, 1st the team is crashing at his tower, the media is adding to the rumor mill and to top it off is Arc Reactor if shorting out in the middle of dinner and peppers not around to help him change it out really he just wants to bang his head against the table, knocked himself out and end this god-forsaken day but when the team goes into panic mode over him he can't help but laugh...What is his life, this is apparently.

I’ve got you lol. I threw in a little Tony/Rhodey in regards to the rumor mill part of this prompt mostly because I dislike pepperony (no hate to people who like them!), so there’s that. The team doesn’t really freak out so much as notice that Tony is a frazzeled boi, but there’s team bonding and whatnot! Movie Night cures all :)

Tony remembers all those horror stories people used to tell back when he was in college about terrible roommates and he thinks he really lucked out rooming with Rhodey given his situation now. Some of the Avengers, they’re clean, but Clint? The man is a fucking shit storm of mess and Thor isn’t much better. Natasha and Steve are, thankfully, very much sticklers for cleanliness and they mitigate the damage quite a lot but he still had to give his cleaning staff a good raise because he felt bad for them. Cleaning up after him is enough work, cleaning up after Clint should earn them a six figure annual income.

He pulls fuck knows what out of the sink of the shared Avengers floor, staring at it for a moment before he recognizes coffee grounds at least. “Who stuck coffee grounds in the sink? What, am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” he asks. No one seems to hear his comment and he rolls his eyes. He throws out the… whatever that was with the coffee grounds on it and decides hiding in his lab is a necessary thing for the day.

They’ve got a dinner event later, but for now he can hide with his machines and they don’t leave mess all over that require him to give workers raises and they also don’t leave coffee grounds and other mysteries in the sink. Time off is necessary so he makes his way down to the lab, smiling when Dummy rolls up, claw spinning happily. He’s three steps into the room when JARVIS speaks.

“Sir, there are rumors of you and Miss. Potts dating again,” he says and Tony rolls his eyes. Poor Pep, she deserves better than this.

“That’s not really new,” he points out.

“There’s a picture,” JARVIS tells him. “Doctored, obviously.”

Yeah, obviously, but Tony lets out a long sigh and throws himself in his desk chair. “Call Rhodey,” he tells the AI. Rhodey is off doing… something, Tony has a hard time keeping up given that Rhodey is constantly on the fly, literally, with the suit. He doesn’t think he’d believe any stupid tabloids anyways but its always good to check in.

When Rhodey answers the phone he’s laughing. “How the hell did you convince Pepper Potts to kiss your sorry ass?” he asks and Tony relaxes a little, pleased that Rhodey has maintained his sense of humor.

“I didn’t, obviously,” he tells Rhodey.

Rhodey lets out a small hum. “Well okay baby, but this looks pretty convincing. Does Pepper know yet?” he asks.

“She’s currently in Japan so probably not, no. She isn’t going to be happy,” he says. She’s forever annoyed that people can’t seem to accept that sometimes women can be good friends with men and have no desire to sleep with them. She claims that she’s spent too much time cleaning Tony’s messes to find wanting to become one of his messes appealing. Tony knows that doesn’t really matter if someone is interested thanks to Rhodey not that people really know about their relationship. Its been an on again off again thing for years, since they were kids really, but after Afghanistan something changed.

And really, the media deciding Rhodey was just a good friend after risking his entire career to spend three months tracking Tony down? That’s probably one of the biggest romantic gestures Tony has ever seen and somehow people managed to ‘no homo’ it. Pepper finds that annoying too but mostly only because people have made her the love interest. At first Tony thought it was kind of funny because he used to have a bit of a crush on Pepper. Now both he and Pepper find it annoying but Rhodey still keeps a sense of humor about it. Maybe its because of all that time spent in the military or something- Tony knows he’s had to deal with a lot of shit and he tends to use humor to do it. Not as much as Tony, but his endless optimism is one of his finer qualities.

“Well,” Rhodey says, “guess she will also be unhappy to hear about your summer wedding.”

Tony sits straight up and lets out an irritated noise. “People are fucking seriously saying we’re engaged? Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks. So much for his day getting better.

“Aw, don’t be like that baby. We can get married in the summer if you want to,” Rhodey jokes.

Neither of them would want to sweat their asses off in a suit in the damn summer so absolutely not.

After dealing with the social media mess on both his and Pepper’s end Tony figures maybe, maybe the food will cheer him up. Yeah, maybe Steve is being more annoying than usual and yeah, maybe Clint chews with his mouth open and it makes Tony want to crawl back into that worm hole his nerves are being grated so hard, but food is food. Its comfort and it tastes good, can’t go wrong there.

That lasts all of five god damn minutes when he feels that familiar loss of energy around his heart and fucking great. He’s got three hours before the reactor dies out completely and half that time would be spent getting back to the lab. And Pepper isn’t around to help him change it out either so… well fuck, he doesn’t know.

He excuses himself to the bathroom so he can try and figure something out or, hell, he has no idea. He’ll burn that bridge when he gets to it.

He’s there for five seconds when he turns around and jumps when he finds Natasha there. “Did you not notice the lack of a dress on the door’s stick figure?” he asks.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “I know where the women’s bathroom is, and I also happen to know you’re probably not likely to hang out in there so here I am. What’s going on?” she asks.

Like she cares. He bites back the snappy response though because its not really helpful right now. “The reactor is dying, I need to swap it out in the lab except I’m pretty far away obviously and I don’t have small enough hands to replace it anyways so I guess I’ll die,” he says. It’s over dramatic and ridiculous but he’s tired, okay. Its been a shitty day.

“I have small hands,” Natasha says, holding up hands that might actually be smaller than Pepper’s.

“No offense but I don’t want you near my heart. You might rip it out,” he says. There’s no real malice in his voice and sure, after the stunt she pulled he’s not overly trusting, but its Natasha’s general personality that drew him to that conclusion rather than their past.

“Please, Stark, I have bigger fish to fry. Lets go, you don’t have a whole lot of time to get that thing replaced,” she says.

He considers saying no but beggars can’t be choosers.

Natasha is subjecting him to some Russian shit when the rest of the team gets home. Clint looks a little sheepish, Steve has got that ‘aw shucks’ look on his face, and Bruce looks a little constipated. Basically, as far as Tony can gather, they look like they feel bad but he has no idea why. He decides to ignore them in favor of watching his heart for any signs that Natasha somehow tampered with the reactor for funsies.

“I’m not guaranteeing that stuff won’t end up in the sink,” Clint says, shuffling a little awkwardly. It takes a moment for Tony to realize he’s talking to him.

“Clint, what the fuck is this?” Steve asks, holding up what looks like an honest to god squirrel. Frankly the fact that Steve has resorted to swearing speaks volumes.

Clint examines the strange sink object and then shrugs. “Dunno.”

Steve throws the mystery object back in the sink. “No wonder Tony is pissed off at you,” he mumbles.

Tony frowns at this and Natasha lets out a soft laugh, “Stark, you’re not subtle. clearly something has been pissing you off all day and it wasn’t hard to look through the camera footage.”

When the hell had she done that? He’ll ask JARVIS later and make it harder for her to get into his systems. “I’m not pissed off at anyone,” he mumbles. Its mostly true, he’s just frustrated because he’s had a bad day. If they were mostly the ones to cause it, well. Okay so today it was mostly Clint but still.

“Are so,” Steve says, “you’ve been avoiding us all day.”

He has not. Which he tells them but even Bruce looks confused. “This morning you gave us all a bunch of dirty looks and then went and hid in your lab to call Pepper,” he says.

Tony squints, “why would I call Pepper?” he asks. Actually he has to call her to find out how her meetings went but she’s better at remembering these things than him so for all he knows she’ll call him before he gets around to contacting her.

Steve frowns, “well, you’re you know… together,” he says, turning a little red as he says it.

He opens his mouth to tell them all that no, he and Pepper are not together but Natasha speaks instead. “You two are horrible at reading romantic cues. He’s with Rhodes, not Pepper,” she says.

Tony narrows his eyes at her, wondering when the hell she figured that out because he damn well knows he hides it well. For Rhodey’s sake mostly- the military might be a lot less homophobic now but its hard to forget what that oppressive environment is like and also Tony doesn’t want to ruin Rhodey’s career over something so stupid.

‘What?” Bruce asks, frowning. “When did that happen?”

“Why are you looking at me, Bruce? I don’t know,” Natasha says.

Tony opens his mouth, shuts it, and then sighs. “Please stop leaving questionable objects in the sink, Steve clean the fucking work out equipment- you might be attractive sweaty but the damn equipment isn’t. Natasha, stop using all the coffee and not replacing it and Bruce, stop putting the milk back in the fridge empty. I have had people do literally everything for me my entire life, if I don’t have any of these bad habits you can all be broken of them,” he says. He doesn’t mention the fifteen years Rhodey’s mom spent breaking him of the same habits minus the work out equipment.

“I maintain no guarantees with the sink,” Clint says.

Steve gives him a look, “there will be no more road kill in the sink. Its unsanitary,” he says like that should be the primary concern.

Bruce and Steve are fighting over the empty milk carton when the elevator makes that irritating dinging noise that Tony, for some reason, thought it was a good idea. He turns and finds Rhodey standing there grinning at him. “Hey,” Tony says, walking over and, mostly out of habit, dragging him away from prying eyes.

“You know the easiest way to solve the Pepper Problem is to just… tell people we’re together,” Rhodey tells him and Tony stops.

“What?” he asks. “Wait, when did you get to America?” As far as he knew Rhodey was overseas.

Rhodey snorts, “for a genius you’re always slow to pick up on things. I flew here, obviously. Suit’s faster than a plane,” he says.

Yeah, Tony knows. Neither of them have ever been fond of planes and travel time so he’d purposefully made the suits fast. Also he likes going fast. “I… you… what’s with the change in heart?” he asks and Rhodey frowns.

“What change in heart?” he asks.

Tony frowns, “you’ve never wanted to come out with our relationship,” he says and Rhodey gives him a funny look.

“Baby, I’ve always wanted to be out with it. I thought you didn’t.”

Tony rubs his temples because his day has been long and not good and apparently now its ending with a fucking twenty year long miscommunication. “And the military problem?” he asks.

Rhodey snorts, “we’re actual ass superheroes and if they want access to that suit, and they do, they need me. No idiot will fire me for being bisexual no matter how much I know a few will want to.”

Okay, good point. “Well, that’s the reason I thought you wanted to keep things quiet. You’ve worked hard, seems like a shame to ruin it all over a stupid relationship,” he says.

He knows he’s said something wrong when a few beats of silence go by. He sighs, guessing this is his day taking another turn for the worst. “Tony,” Rhodey says softly. “I don’t think this relationship is some kind of stupid fling and I know you don’t. I love you Tony, have for most of my life,” he murmurs.

Tony smiles and presses his face into Rhodey’s chest. Usually he resents being so short, but at times like this its kind of nice to be the small one. Rhodey wraps his arms around him and they remain like that for a moment. “You know what sounds a lot better than ‘we’re dating’? ‘This is my fiancee, stop acting like I’m dating my assistant’,” he says and Rhodey snorts.

“Is this a proposal, Stark?” he asks and Tony nods, pulling a ring out of his pocket and Rhodey’s eyebrows shoot up.

“How long have you have that on you?” he asks.

He grins a little and looks away. “Sine ‘98,” he admits. Thankfully Rhodey thinks its funny and takes the ring.

“No horror movies, I do not like those,” Steve tells Natasha, looking somewhat like a frightened golden retriever.

“I’m with Cap,” Rhodey says fast. Natasha looks at him and Tony wrinkles his nose.

“Not for me,” he says. Steve looks shocked that they’ve agreed on something but he doesn’t know about that time he and Rhodey thought dropping acid and watching Nightmare on Elm Street was a good plan. They might both be geniuses but they aren’t fucking smart, that’s for sure.

“All of you minus Tony a little bit have been in wars but you’re afraid of horror movies?” Clint asks, shaking his head.

“Wars don’t involve demonic possession, Clint,” Rhodey says, shaking his head.

“Well, some of those Nazi experiments… Horror movies are creepy,” Steve settles on, changing the subject before things got overly awkward. “We should watch Matilda! Sam says its good,” he says.

Rhodey wrinkles his nose, “no. We should watch James Bond, any Bond will do,” he says.

“We should watch The Sound of Music,” Clint says and Bruce gives him a look.

“No, we should watch Gravity. Sandra Bullock was good in that,” he says.

“We’re watching Sharknado,” Natasha says and Clint lets out a noise of excitement as the rest of them wrinkle their noses.

“Natasha, I forbid that,” Steve says, apparently throwing out a desperate bid for leadership over movie choices.

“Eat my ass,” Natasha tells him. “JARVIS, play the movie.”

Rhodey sighs, “I should have stayed in Egypt for the layover,” he mumbles.

#domestic avengers #tony & avengers #tony x rhodey #fanfiction

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imaginesmydearfandom · 6 years

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Fries Can Lead to Guys

A/N: Sorry this took so long (also sorry that this isn’t the best but I really tried!). Hope you like it and thank you for requesting! Requested by anon: So, I’m the one who’s really excited and loves Twelve, Hi! I’d like to request from the prompt list “I’m so in love with her/him, I don’t know what do do.” with Twelve, if that’s possible? Please and thank you. X Words: 1978 Warnings: fluff, slight angst maybe?

Another day, another tray. Working in the lunch line at the college had its pros (being able to eat all the leftovers) and its cons (having to deal with annoying students, staff, and having an excruciating boring day). The only way I could deal with the cons was because I had my best friend Bill Potts working with me. She was the one to actually convince me to apply for the job in the first place and to say it changed my life would be an understatement. I got my first job, was finally able to pay off some of my college debts, I bonded with my best friend more than I ever thought I could, and I got to travel all of time and space with said best friend and her professor. That was the last thing I expected when I signed up to be serving sandwiches, but that was my life at this point and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. After watching Bill and Heather exchange love-filled glances and Heather walked away with a tray that had way too many chips, I groaned. Bill looked at me. “What?” “Don’t what me. You do that every single day. Just ask her out already!” I said, putting a roast beef sandwich on a boy’s tray after he pointed to which one he wanted. “It’s not that easy.” “So, walking up to her and saying, ’Hey, Heather, want to go out for coffee this week?’ is so difficult?” Another sandwich, another student. “You don’t know what it’s like! You’ve never had a crush before!” she exclaimed. I didn’t give her a response, instead, I gave more people part of their lunch. “You don’t have a crush, do you?” “What? No, why?” “You totally do! Who is it?” Bill quietly exclaimed as to not draw attention to our conversation. “I’m not telling!” “Oh, so you do have a crush! I knew it,” she said with a grin. “Do I know them?” Should I tell her? Oh, hell, I tell her everything. Plus she knows a lot of people. “Yes.” “Okay, what people do I know that you know, too? Hmm… Is it Dave in the kitchens?” “What? No, ew. Why would you even say that he’s not even my type,” I answered with a disgusted expression. “Okay.” She didn’t say anything for a while and didn’t the rest of the lunch shift. After cleaning up, we went walked around the campus, her randomly saying names of people we both knew to which everyone I said no to. We ended up sitting down on a bench under a tree, watching the people pass by and sipping on coffees we had bought earlier. “There’s no one else we both know. Literally no one else. Unless… No way. Oh, my God. You like the Doctor!” “What? No, I don’t!” I insisted, trying to keep my voice and face normal. “You totally do! I can see why you two are always sending witty and flirty comments towards each other. It’s so adorable! Oh, my gosh, you have to ask him out! Maybe he’ll take you to an intergalactic McDonald’s or something,” she teased with a smirk. I groaned and put my face in my hands. “You’re never gonna let this down are you?” “Nope.” A pause. “Why him, though?” “Huh?” I looked up at her in confusion. “Why do you have a crush on him? I mean, I might if I wasn’t into girls but I don't see him that way. He’s like a grandpa to me or something, you know? Why do you like him like that?” I thought about it. Why did I like him? I stared off into nothing, trying to collect my thoughts. “I don’t know… He’s just so him. He’s so fascinating and clever and smart and creative and amazing. His accent catches my attention every time he talks about some space or history event that I had no idea even existed before the words left his mouth. His hair always looks so nice, as well. He cares about us and strangers, too, without even himself knowing it. He’s always so willing to help people and doesn't take a second glance at their past no matter what they did. He thinks so little of himself, but he’s the most incredible man I’ve ever met. I’m so in love with him. I don’t know what to do,” I finally admitted. Bill had her brows raised to her hairline. “I think so, too.” “Ugh, what am I gonna do? It’s not like I can just ask him out, even if he does like me like that, which I doubt he does. He’s a Time Lord from space and I’m me. I’m nothing compared to him.” “Hmm… I might be able to arrange something,” she slyly said. I furrowed my brows a this. “What do you mean? You’re not planning anything, are you?” “What? No, of course not,” she insisted, looking down at her coffee and fiddling with her straw in the ice. “Okay,” I replied suspiciously.

Bill didn’t mention our conversation the rest of the week, much to my relief. I was still wary though. What if she told him? My friendship with him would be ruined and awkward. I couldn’t bear that. She and I were serving lunch again, her and Heather giving each other lingering glances like they did every day. I rolled my eyes and held in a groan. If I said anything she’d just pester me about the Doctor in return. “You got any plans tomorrow?” she asked out of the blue. “I got a class at nine and I gotta meet up with Nancy to talk about our project for English at noon, but I’m free after that. Why what’s up?” “Well, I was thinking you should go to the Doctor’s lecture tomorrow at two,” she suggested. I eyed her. “This doesn’t have to do with our conversation we had last week, does it?” “What? No. You’ve never been to one of his lectures, which I don’t see why ‘cause they’re so interesting. I heard he’s gonna talk about paradoxes tomorrow and thought you’d be interested.” I hummed. “Paradoxes do sound fun… Sure. Why not?”

Turns out, Bill was right: it was interesting. The Doctor kept my attention the entire time, even if I had a hard time processing what he was saying, making eye contact with me at least every five minutes. Probably just wondering why I’m here since I never go to these, I mentally brushed off. The lecture lasted three hours. Who knew a person could talk that long about paradoxes? Well, he did steer off for about forty-five minutes ranting about how people’s concept of time is completely wrong and that the world needs to teach children the proper way that time is constructed of: a “big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff.” The room erupted with laughter at that line, myself included. The Doctor walked all over the stage during the three hours, using his chalkboard to draw demonstrations every once in a while (which kind of helped sometimes). After he dismissed us, the class gathered their things and left, a one or two walking up to the Doctor, who was sitting on the edge of the stage so he was eye level with them and asking a few questions. “Uh, YN, could you stay for a moment, please?” he called as I put my purse on my shoulder. I nodded and he went back to talking to the student in front of him. Before making my way down, I bid goodbye to Bill, promising her I would catch her tomorrow for breakfast since she was heading home. Once I reached the bottom, the students were gone and the Doctor was up erasing the chalkboard. “So, what did you need?” I questioned, looking up at him. “Come up here,” he said, making a motion with his hand towards himself. I did, climbing the stairs on the side of the stage. “Yes?” He turned to face me, chalkboard now clean, and asked, “Did you enjoy the lecture?” “Yes! It was very interesting even if it was difficult to wrap my head around it sometimes,” I responded with a chuckle, one he returned. “Good, I’m glad you liked it. Bill said you would.” I furrowed my brows. “Bill?” “Yes, you know, your best friend? Travels with us through time and space?” “Yeah, I know who she is I’m just confused on why you consulted her about our lecture. Surely, you don’t need your students’ approval.” “Well, when it comes to you, I do,” he replied. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He took a few steps closer to me, practically at arm's length. I looked up at him, the light shining through his hair that, creating a light shadow over his face. His eyes held an emotion I couldn’t place. “It means that you have this control over me, YN. I had planned on talking about Mozart today, but I changed my plans when Bill came into my office last night telling me she had something to show me, well more like listen. It made me ask Bill to take you here today. Do you know what that thing was?” I shook my head, extremely confused. “It was a recording of you confessing your feeling for me.” I closed my eyes and sighed. She said she wouldn’t tell him! What’s worse is she went behind my back and recorded me and had him listen to the recording. How could she? “Look, Doctor, I’m sorry about Bill. I don’t know why she did that and it was a very dumb move on her part because now our friendship is ruined because-” “YN, relax. I understand. Really, I do. I’m glad she told me. She’s known about my… feelings toward you since the beginning,” he hesitantly told me. My eyes widened. “Your… feelings? For me?” “Yes, that’s what I just said. I don’t know what it is about you, but you've managed to find your way into this old man’s hearts. Every day you continue to amaze me with your witty comments and clever ideas. I began to notice the way you laugh, the color of your eyes, the way you have your coffee. I didn’t know what I was feeling at first until Bill confronted me about it. It was then I knew it was you. It was always you, I suppose,” he confessed, looking down as he shakily chuckled, his hands in the pockets of his pants. It took me a moment to process what he said. The Doctor has feelings… for me? Me. of all the people in the entire time of the universe and he chose me? “Is that how you really feel or are you just trying to be nice and let me down easy?” His eyes found mine. “I meant every word.” I smiled and felt tears prickle my water line. I looked up and blinked multiple times to avoid crying in front of him. “Are you crying? What did I say wrong? Was it the coffee thing? Is that not what humans do?” “No, no. These are happy tears. Gah, I can’t believe this is happening. Come here,” I said, standing on my toes, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. I didn’t feel his arms wrap around my back for a few moments and when I did, I heard him ask, “This isn’t going to become a regular thing now, is it?” “It totally is,” I replied, my grin getting wider. He sighed. “I suppose I could get used to it.” And we stood there on the stage of the lecture hall hugging each other. The Doctor and YN. Together. Just as it should be. All because of one Bill Potts.

#request #anon #dw #doctor who imagine #doctor who #twelfth doctor imagine #twelfth doctor x reader #bill potts #12th doctor #12th doctor imagine #12th doctor x reader #dw imagine #mine #imaginesmydearfandom #i love queue. i know.

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