#avengers are shit stirrers

[bucknastysbabe]

So. I saw this picture. He looks so soft and huggable. Therefore my brain spat this out. Obvi I love chubby grump Bucky who can F U C K

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2, 623 words

Synopsis: Bucky is having a mid-life crisis at 100 something years. His girlfriend is an aggravating little angel shit who doesn’t understand why. Cue pool time and ripped blonde superheroes making poor Bucky extra grumpy.

Tags: Chubby!bucky, avenger!reader, size difference, age gap (twenties and technically late thirties), pnv!sex, daddy kink, Bucky’s hating ass internal dialogue, the reader is a slut for the extra Fluff, pwp, fluff and smut, him Jealous, and Big, I tried to make it humorous heehee

Poolside blues

It was hot. Bucky sucked on his popsicle angrily, sulking under an umbrella. He wore his t-shirt even in the blazing heat. Bucky grimaced at the cloth sticking to his skin, pulling at the fabric with a huff. He didn’t want to run around shirtless when the likes of Steve and Thor were basking in the sun— the golden gods they were.

So Bucky sucked on his popsicle, his fourth one already. He flexed his metal fist, cursing it for being such an eye sore. The assassin was convinced his body had it out for him. Mess of a shoulder, ropey bullet scars, and way too much extra weight he didn’t ask for. Bucky stared down at the soft flesh adorning his midsection, lips twisting into a frown.

Hydra had royally fucked his metabolism up, serum or not. Add a plethora of mood stabilizers and Bucky looked like a damn chipmunk hoarding up for the winter. His girlfriend thought it was cute, cooing and pinching his fleshy hip. Bucky did not think it was ‘cute’. He’d never been like this in his over-extended life. Soft.

He’d held thick muscle since the serum and kept that up at the least. The brunette worked out religiously to rid himself of that extra pudge. Now he was jacked with the stupid layer over it— making him feel like a bulky lummox. Therefore if he was going to sweat to death by the pool, so be it.

Bucky’s icy eyes flickered to his best girl playing around with Thor in the water. She giggled and batted at the blonde god while he picked her tiny frame up. The brunette’s eye twitched while gripping his popsicle stick until it crushed. His girlfriend was too cute for her own good, often drawing attention from the other sex.

“Are you just going to drill holes in them with your mind or get in the pool?”

Bucky glared at his oldest friend. Steve smiled down softly, big hands on his waspy waist. He grumbled, “I’m fine. Punk.” The blonde teased, “That’s why your shirt is soaked then huh? Go get in the water you’re making me miserable looking at ya.”

“Nope,” Bucky shot back, popping the ‘p’.

Steve sighed and dove into the huge pool. Bucky pouted efficiently from the side-lines. Thor had his stupid blonde hair and stupid white teeth and stupid washboard abs. His girlfriend appeared in his line of sight, her brows knitted in concern. Bucky attempted to not stare at her perky tits— nipples peaked under her blue strappy bikini.

She hummed, “I can feel you drowning in self-pity over here. Why don’t you get in babe?”

He was staring at her tits now, he didn’t care, not really. Bucky shrugged, “You have fun I’m fine over here. Thor is waiting.” She narrowed her eyes up at him, pushing back damp hair. Bucky licked his lips, holding the woman’s glare.

In a swift motion she launched onto the concrete.

Clambering up she swayed toward the grumpy man, droplets running down her tight body. Bucky took in the view, getting lost in it really. He could watch her all day and sometimes would. The assassin grunted as she plopped onto his lazily spread thighs, soaking him. Bucky hissed, “What was that for?”

The coolness of her skin felt amazing. He willed himself to not pop wood in front of the few teammates milling around. His girl leaned over, breasts about to spill, and pressed against his padded chest. She simpered, “Buck, c’mon, you know no one around here cares. You’re perfect.”

Bucky snorted, “To you, maybe.”

She frowned and lightly slapped at his shoulder, lips pouting. Bucky hated when the pretty thing pouted— he somehow would up doing what she wanted in the first place.

Every. Single. Time.

She ran a finger down his chest, big eyes begging, “Get in the pool, please? You look so upset over here and that makes me sad.”

Once again Bucky lost to her feminine wiles, groaning out a strained ‘fine’. Her mouth split into a toothy smile, cheering, “Yay!” He rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm. Sometimes Bucky forgot she was a little over ten years his junior. If one took off the cryogenically frozen periods. She hopped back into the water, eyes eagerly flickering to the side.

Bucky hauled himself up and reluctantly peeled off his dark shirt, revealing his pale skin and soft parts. He willed himself to not curl into a ball or run away screeching. Steve wolf-whistled, sending an embarrassed flush across the brunette’s full cheeks. He barked, “Knock it off Rogers!”

Sam, as always, had ESP for people flustering Bucky. He shouted from the grill, “Looking thick my man! Whole slice of beef!” The assassin was convinced he was going to self combust, sliding into the water to cover himself up. His girlfriend snickered when Bucky resurfaced from his shame dive, splashing his face.

He frowned down at her, the spitfire raising a brow in challenge. Bucky slung her over a thick shoulder, hand across the backs of her thighs. She laughed and kicked, playfully squirming. Bucky had half a mind to leave a mark on her ass, show the Asgardian who she really belonged to. She stopped thrashing and murmured, “If you do not stop being jeal-“

The assassin cut her off when he dunked under the water. She spluttered and cursed at him, Bucky laughing, “Sorry sweets, what were you saying?”

“Put me down or I’m ripping your hair out!,” she howled. He chuckled and slowly let the angry avenger down. She shook her head, flicking the sensitive skin below his belly button. Bucky winced and gaped petulantly— horribly trying to block of the feeling of jiggle. The woman latched back onto him, pressing a feathery kiss to his bearded jaw. With a dirty smirk, spirits lifted, Bucky led them to the shelf in the deep end.

Sitting back he groped at her ass under the water, earning a squawk and another slap in return. She whispered angrily, “Stop that! Not in public!” Bucky grinned dumbly, eyes flickering to her perky chest. He apologized, saccharine sweet, “Sorry baby, you’re just so pretty I couldn’t help myself.”

Tony Stark and Natasha approached the pool, him lowering his sunglasses at the pair. Stark sipped his drink and loudly observed, “Horndogs at it again. Barnes you’re a nasty old man, you know that?”

Sam sniped, “They call him Bucknasty for a reason!”

Bucky’s temples throbbed with annoyance. He shouted at Sam, “No one calls me that but you! Bird brain!” He needed to scoop the girl up and take off— now. Steve was howling with laughter, hand slapping his chest, Thor smiling in confusion. She turned and grinned at Tony, “He’s my nasty old man.” The woman laid an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. Stark pretended to gag and situated himself in a lounge chair. Natasha’s lips quirked up, green eyes sparkling with amusement.

Bucky rumbled quietly, “I’ll show you nasty if you keep it up acting like that in my lap.”

Her tits bounced when she inhaled sharply, shit-eating grin falling from her face. Bucky lecherously grabbed another handful of ass for example. Her voice quavered when she weakly replied, “Very funny Buck. Not in front of everyone!”

“I’m not being funny. Seeing you getting flipped around by the blondes has me feeling…some type of way.”

Bucky was proud of his updated lingo, courtesy of the sexy trembling thing in front of him. She huffed quietly, squirming minutely on his thick thighs. “Jesus Christ, they’re all going to know when we both leave.”

“I think Clint complaining about us being loud all the time lets the team know what the deal is,” he smoothly pointed out.

With another harsh look Bucky regretfully watched her get out of the pool. Now he had to walk in front of everyone without a safety blanket again. He briskly climbed out after her, keeping his eyes focused ahead. Tony complimented, “Looking yoked there Barnes, trying to bulk right now?”

Bucky wanted to hiss at the billionaire like a feral cat. He felt like he’d been bulking for months. Just not allowed to cut— so sayeth the metabolism. He grabbed a towel and threw it around broad shoulders, aggravated with how his belly was on display. She was toweling her hair off.

“C’mon then you beast,” she snickered.

“Beast?,” he echoed.

Bucky hauled her up again, the smaller one yelping. He snatched his sweaty shirt up and carried her to the elevator. She sarcastically questioned, “Do you always have to carry me around like a caveman when you get jealous?” Bucky grunted in agreement, thumbing at the soft skin of her thighs.

She said, “You do know I only think about you, like, all the time.” Bucky couldn’t help but let his heart skip a beat. Still he whinged, “I don’t know why when there’s all these… ripped guys hanging around.” His girlfriend scoffed and rolled her doe eyes. She remained quiet on the walk, ensuing quiet ride up the elevator, and the remainder of the trip to his rooms.

Deposited on the bed she informed Bucky, “No matter how many times you shrug it off, I think you’re really hot. I like a little fluff on my men.” The brunette shook his head, crawling onto the covers. He muttered, “I don’t. I follow you around like some goddamn oaf.”

She pinched his cheek, grinding out, “You’re a little soft and I happen to enjoy you fucking me into the bed. Stubborn mule.” Bucky’s dick twitched at her words, grabbing an ankle to pull her closer. She continued matter-of-factly, “It’s also nice to have my big scary boyfriend behind me. It turns me on.”

Bucky peered at her, face set in suspicion. She ran a hand down his side, finishing it’s path at the laces of his swim trunks. Her face was cutely set in determination, deft hands untying the shorts. The assassin groaned low in his throat as the cloth fell down, exposing his aching cock. He climbed out of them and threw the shorts across the room.

Bucky eyed her up, watching her cheeks heat at his gaze. He gently positioned himself between her legs, pointedly keeping his weight off to her chagrin. Bucky sealed his watering mouth over a covered nipple, sucking eagerly. She whined and flexed under him, thighs wrapping around his hips.

“Ah! Buck!”

Her long lashes fluttered when his other hand untied the strings on the top. Bucky eased off the flimsy fabric, whistling lowly at her full tits. He nipped and flicked his tongue on a peaked bud, tweaking the other. She cried out, rutting up against his heavy cock.

Bucky’s lips split into a grin when he realized she was also untying her bottoms with shaky hands. He pulled off a nipple and teased, “That needy for it, huh?” She yanked off the offending fabric with a nibble at his jaw. Bucky would purr in contentment if he could. Until the nip at the flesh under his chin— which granted he has always had but still didn’t appreciate it.

He grumbled and lightly swatted her ass with a grimace. She mused, “You’re so hot. Honestly. I wish you would believe me Buck.” The assassin ignored her comment, instead sucking marks on her collarbone. She writhed underneath him, the wetness of her pussy sliding against him. The woman whimpered, hands holding his cheeks insistently, “C’mon and fuck me, please daddy.”

Bucky almost exploded, came back, just to explode again into a puddle of goo. She wanted to play like that today. He gripped her hips with low moan, eyes traveling up the expanse of skin. His girlfriend’s chest heaved, eyes darkly glazed. Bucky growled, “Y’want me to fuck you? Shouldn’t daddy finger you first?”

Huff. She shook her head no, dragging the molten slick across his need. Softly she begged, “C’mon daddy please, want to feel the stretch, need you.” Bucky’s eyes rolled in sheer desire, nudging the blunt head of his cock against her opening. He slid in with a curse, eyes clenching shut.

She was snug as always around him, pulsing and seemingly sucking Bucky in. The woman whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders. She gasped, “So big, fuck daddy, don’t stop!” Bucky was not going to stop unless he magically disappeared.

He braced an arm beside her pretty flushed face to get leverage. With a lewd smack Bucky clapped his hips into her, enjoying the wanton whine. The brunette pulled back to give another roll of his hips, moaning lowly. He got into the rhythm he knew she liked— slow but forceful. Bucky smiled down, cooing.

“You’re so pretty babygirl, taking me so well,” he emphasized with a deep thrust. She clawed at his shoulders, pressing sloppy kisses to his throat. Wide eyes met his, her breathing, “No you’re pretty.” Bucky narrowed his lids, apparently his girl wanted to be a little shit.

“I don’t understand why you won’t let me- shit! Daddy!,” she cried out with a smile, “Compliment you!” Bucky picked her legs up and hiked them higher, driving his hips into that silky-soft spot. He grunted in pleasure as she arched and yanked at his hair, mouth hung open with punched out ‘ah’s’.

Bucky rumbled, “I don’t like it- fuck sweets so tight- because it’s exaggerated!” He was panting with exertion now, reveling in the tell-tale slaps of skin echoing. The petite Avenger under him whimpered when Bucky hit her g-spot dead on, tears pricking her eyes. Bucky kissed a droplet, murmuring sweet nothings.

“Keep fucking me daddy, I’m gonna hah- cum!,” she wailed. Bucky urged, “Yeah babydoll, want you to, c’mon need it.” He thumbed around her clit, breathing into her lax mouth, swallowing up those broken keens. She sobbed his name into the kiss, clawing and scrabbling when she clamped down on him. Bucky’s eyes rolled up at the pulsing and gush of slick, fucking her through the orgasm.

His baby’s loud keens turns into little whimpers as he kept thrusting into her tight body. She quavered, “Cum in me please daddy!” The woman nipped along his jaw again, rubbing at his flexing ass. Bucky felt his lower belly tighten, a swirling fog gathering in his brain purely driven by need. He growled, “I’m gonna fill that sweet pussy up, you want that from Daddy, huh?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Ask and one shall receive. Bucky felt his balls draw up and he came with an embarrassingly slutty groan. He drooled onto her neck, gasping through the brunt of his body emptying into her wet heat. She cooed, “Oh, so good, ah thank you daddy.” Bucky collapsed halfway onto his girlfriend, still firmly snug inside.

She rubbed a trembling hand across his bloodied shoulders, serumed body already working on knitting the claw marks back up. Bucky simply breathed, unable to come up with intelligent words. His brain had probably shot out of his dick. She maddeningly caressed his, ugh, love handle.

Bucky groaned, “Stop it.”

She retracted the touch and rasped, throat bruised from yelling, “One day I’m going to convince you Buck. Perfect as you are.” Bucky snorted, “We’ll see about that.” He softened at her lithe hands pushing his sweaty hair back, grinning like he’d hung the moon. He murmured, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

She giggled and cuddled up like a damn koala. Bucky didn’t truly mind, albeit she may be delusional and think overweight one hundred year old former assassins are sexy. He was glad he’d been able to find the loon, all his to boot. Bucky shook his head in amusement, the feeling of her sharp teeth on his chin again, him starting to protest.

[noxnthea]

I posted 495 times in 2022

35 posts created (7%)

460 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@noxnthea

@robo-ratto

@drgrlfriend

@alistrawrites

@oifaaa

I tagged 307 of my posts in 2022

Only 38% of my posts had no tags

#winterhawk - 56 posts

#clint barton - 34 posts

#my fic - 19 posts

#bucky barnes - 19 posts

#look at them! - 10 posts

#avengers trick and treat - 8 posts

#fic rec - 8 posts

#hawkeye - 7 posts

#nox thanks you for staying with us - 6 posts

#jason todd - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#like i understand many of these characters were all basically pulled from a manual of how to be a man in a white 1960s nuclear family ad

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

oh man oh man oh no clint stumbled across a website design class, and coulson is not happy about it.

'We Welcome Your Feedback' is now complete!

61 notes - Posted January 22, 2022

#4

I made a banner for @feedmecookiesnow's amazingly perfect Symbrock-meets-the-Queer-Eye-cast fic "It's Not Anxiety, It's a Parasite" and i'm just. gonna watch this lil animated alien ooze zoom across my screen forever (but really it's to avoid all the feels this fic gave me)

“It’s ridiculous. I don’t need a life makeover.”

Anne fixes him with a glare. “Eddie, you need a life makeover more than anyone I’ve ever met. You are terrible at taking care of yourself, and it’s gotten even worse since we broke up. You’re reclusive. You go out at odd hours. You dress like a moody teenager. And I’m pretty sure you haven’t slept in two days.”

Eddie starts to protest, but everything she just said is true. He is reclusive, when he’s not interviewing. He prefers to go out late at night. His wardrobe is pretty much sweatshirts and baggy pants. He did sleep recently, but it wasn’t a good sleep, and it pretty clearly shows on his face. So yeah. She’s not wrong.

Also, he has a parasite.

64 notes - Posted January 7, 2022

#3

Winterhawk ficlet: Dungeons and Dragons + “Adopting all the strays” wc 550

------

“No — Don’t you do it. Don’t you fucking do it.” A vein above Bucky’s eyebrow throbs, apoplectic. 

Beside him, Tony grins, ever the shit-stirrer. He pounds on the table. “Do it, do it, do it.” 

Steve’s gaze flicks between Bucky and Clint, and Clint can see his natural inclination for keeping the peace fighting with his desire for pure fucking chaos at the expense of his best friend’s sanity. Chaos wins. “I think you gotta do it.” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, and the tiny twitch of her lips is more than enough permission. 

Clint rolls his D20. 

Everyone’s eyes are trained on the die as it rattles down the table towards Bucky. It bounces off the edge of Steve’s dice tower, skitters back to the center of the aisle next to Tony’s bottle of Mountain Dew. It spins on an edge, tipping one way, then another. 

It falls over, a shiny silver 20 glistening for all to see. 

The table explodes. 

Clint’s on his feet before he even realizes it; Tony’s chair is tipped onto the floor with the force of his guffaws; Steve’s wheezing; Nat’s smirking — and Bucky has his face in his hands, his head shaking slowly side to side, his shoulders quaking with resigned laughter. 

“NAT TWENTY, BABY,” Clint crows. He’s somehow on top of his chair, and maybe he should be worried about it bearing his weight, but he can’t find it within himself to be. “Plus five charisma, fucker, now gimme that NPC!” 

“I hate you so much,” Bucky says through his hands. “So, so much.” 

“I can’t believe you got Hawkeye another stray,” Tony says from where he’s crying on the floor. “What is this, the fourth? I thought for sure this tree-giant would be immune.” 

“I hate this game,” Bucky groans. His forehead is on the table, his voice muffled. “I hate that this is what you decided your character’s thing was. I hate you.” 

“It’s all in the backstory,” Clint snickers, dancing on the chair. “Hawkeye can’t resist a solo traveller. He understands. He empathizes. He knows what it’s like. He wants them to feel loved.” 

“You were supposed to fight him, not adopt him into the party.” 

“Why did you choose that voice for him?” Steve coughs out after a gasp of his inhaler, still laughing. “You sound ridiculous! You’re gonna be stuck doing that for weeks. What were you thinking?” 

“I don’t fucking know. Maybe I thought that my boyfriend, just once, wouldn’t make my life more difficult. Obviously I was wrong. Clint lives to provoke me.” 

“Hell yeah I do,” Clint says. Nat rolls her eyes at the finger guns he shoots at everyone. 

Bucky slowly lifts his head, resigned, and scribbles something on his notebook. “Okay, okay. Sit the fuck up, Tony, and sit the fuck down, Clint.” 

He leans forward as they settle, and glares daggers as he begins to speak. “Alright, the tree-giant — yes, I’ll think of a name, gimme a goddamn second — walks over to Hawkeye, putting away his Thorn Whip. He falls in behind the Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver and Hawkeye #2, all of whom, for some godforsaken reason, have decided to join your party…” 

-----

Ficlet one of @ladyladylady1's birthday week! 

70 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#2

okay so here's the headcanon: AU Clint Barton works various part-time jobs and is content with it. Gig work is where it's at. He does a bunch of things that are all very different to keep himself engaged. He's always on the go. He interacts with all sorts of different people and environments. He can codeswitch to fit the job, and while kinda messy and rushed half the time, he's reliable and always meets people's needs. He doesn't feel like he needs anything more "stable" or "traditional" or "career". His friends are all for it because he chooses jobs that make him happy.

71 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A couple years after Clint and Bucky got together in Making Me a Habit, the expanded staff of Clint's CATastrophe finally convinced Clint that he needed an online presence. A whole lotta puns and purple ensued. Come check out the rest of the website on AO3!!

this was created for @fandomtrumpshate for @drgrlfriend's bid, who gifted it to @kangofu-cb. I had THE BEST time messing around with CB's universe, and spent approximately a bazillion hours of pure joy trying to cram in as many references to CB's fic and various Marvel projects as possible. Also there is NEW real art by @soapyquartz !!!! Check out the last chapter on AO3 to see the greatness that is wade the social media star.

72 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Birthday Gift

Pairing: Nomad!Steve x fem-Reader

Word Count: 5665 (I know, I know)

Summary:  The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of consensual violence, SMUT! PORN! 18+!

A/N: Hello my fellow hoes and sluts! My birthday is today and it has me in some kind of mood, so I hunkered down and blasted out this fic. @stargazingfangirl18​‘s lovely Tree Trimming fic has my holes quivering for some hot Nomad sex, so please sit back and enjoy my birthday present to all of you!

You had always hated your birthday.

Fortunately, Nat was completely willing to take your mind off it with a good sparring match. The snow was falling heavy outside of the large windows on the side of the gym, but the minor exertion was keeping you pleasantly warm. You’d been on the mat for almost an hour, but you still couldn’t seem to get your mind to focus.

Of course, it didn’t help when Rogers came in, glowering, to work the bags, giving you a wary look before he settled into his routine.

Nat and the rest of the team had been with you for almost 3 months now. When she had called you after the events in Berlin, to arrange a potential safehouse for her and her compatriots, you of course offered to have them join you at your isolated lodge on the Snæfellsnes peninsula. You were as off the grid as they come, and with the help of your Wakandan friends, still able to provide the modern creature comforts you were sure they had become accustomed to at the Avengers compound.

You had missed Nat, after all. It had been almost 7 years since you last saw her, but the grin she gave you when they landed in the early Autumn made it seem like she’d never left. You got to know everyone else over the months as well. Sam and you bonded quickly after you introduced him to Aquavit and spent the next 2 days helping him slowly move back to solid foods. Vision of course took everything that happened in stride, and while you couldn’t say you were friends, you had developed a mutual respect for each other. Wanda took longer to warm up (understandable after everything she had been through) but when you told her about the time you had spent in Sokovia, she quickly came out of her shell, and the two of you would often stay up through the night reminiscing about your homes. Even Barnes had softened once he got a look at your weapons room and you took it out to the Fjord to test out some next gen tech Shuri had sent you.

The only problem was Rogers.

No matter what you tried, it seemed that every time you got near him his hackles went up. You could feel him watching you constantly, and whenever you met his gaze, he would simply clench his jaw and stalk off like a cat.

“He’s just overprotective.” Nat always said. “He’s a big papa bear protecting his cubs. He’ll warm up.”

You snapped back to the present as Vis and Wanda wandered into the gym chatting idly. She had convinced him to join her out in the snow for a brisk hike, and was now laughing lightly as she brushed a dusting of soft flakes off his shoulders. Bucky was working his way down from the weights level, patting his neck dry with a towel. You heard the pounding on the bags stop, and glanced over to see Rogers unwrapping his hands as he stared at you, but this time he didn’t break eye contact when you met his gaze.

Those deep blue eyes disarmed you, and you lost your concentration for a split second. Nat seized her opportunity and crawled up your back, wrapping he legs around your neck and shoulders to try to get you into a submissive position. You tried to regain your composure, but your instincts kicked in for just a moment, and when you drove yourself back into the mat to break her hold, you landed quite a bit harder than you intended and thought you heard a snap as she gasped out in pain.

“Shit, Nat you good?” You scrambled onto your knees and looked at your friend with concern. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers striding over, jaw clenched and brow furrowed. Vis and Wanda stopped their conversation to glance over and Bucky moved quickly to intercept his best friend with a hand on his chest.

Nat broke the tension with a laugh, and everyone in the room relaxed. “God, Y/N, guess you’re still an aggro bitch. I though I might’ve had you for once.”

“Jesus, Nat. I’m sorry, lemme grab you some ice. Anything broken?”

“Don’t think so, just a bruised ego. Look at you, you haven’t even broken a sweat.”

You tossed a pack to her from the freezer, along with her typical post spar electrolyte drink. She gave you a wink as she pressed the pack to her ribs, and you could only shake your head at her.

“Steve, you wanna take over for me?” She said to the large man who was now leaning against one of the windows, only half listening as Barnes tried to distract him, while glaring at you.

You both snapped your heads around to stare at her and started protesting over each other while she grinned back and forth between you.

“That’s probably not a great idea…”

“Don’t want to hurt her…”

“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous. Y/N, you obviously still have to work out your birthday issues, and Steve, you’ve been complaining for the past 3 weeks that me and Buck are getting too predictable.”

“Y/N, it’s your birthday? We should bake you a cake!” Wanda exclaimed, always the little ray of sunshine.

“That’s ok Wand, please don’t.”

“Should we perhaps sing?” Vision was now adding his two cents to the discussion.

“No singing. Thank you, so much, for that, Nat.”

“She’s right Rogers, you’ve been looking pretty bored during our sessions, change of pace might be good for you.”

While you were eternally grateful to Bucky for getting the topic off of your birthday, you really didn’t think Rogers was going to go for this.

“Fine, we’ll give it a shot.”

You looked at him with surprise, but gave a shrug and nodded. You definitely still needed something to take your mind off the day. You loved Nat, but always felt the need to hold back during your sessions, and it might be nice to take the safety off.

Nat looked like the cat that ate the canary for some unknown reason, as she giggled and clapped her hands before setting down onto one of the stools to observe. Bucky looked relieved as he leaned back against the wall, chugging the contents of his water bottle. Wanda and Vis went back to their flirty conversation, content to let you two do your own thing.

You unzipped your hoody and threw it to the side, stretching your neck and bouncing on the balls of your feet to loosen up. Rogers looked you over, eyes lingering over your tattoos that you realized he’d never seen since most of them were easily covered by a long sleeve shirt. He pulled his own sweatshirt over his head, and you had a hard time not taking a second to appreciate just how good his torso looked in a simple grey tee.

“Jesus, you two, just get to it.”

The look you shot Nat was pure poison. You weren’t sure what her game was, but you’d be sure to break out the vodka later tonight and get it out of her.

You squared up with the captain, keeping a loose stance on the balls of your feet while he brought up his fists and shrugged his shoulders.

His first strike seemed sluggish, and you slapped it aside easily, frowning at him. He shuffled forward, throwing a few more jabs that you also dodged. Was he holding back on you?

The next few shots he tried to take all but confirmed it; he was pulling his punches. You ducked around them easily, starting to get frustrated. You stepped inside his reach and delivered three quick strikes to his abdomen, followed by an open-handed push to the center of his chest, causing him to take two steps backwards.

His eyes narrowed at you. He was just hoping to get Nat and Buck off his back. Nat had been trying to get him to interact with you for months, but there was something about you that set off warning bells in his head. He trusted Nat and Nat trusted you, which should have been good enough, but he couldn’t get over the thought that there was something dangerous about you that he couldn’t figure out. He’d hoped that a quick spar would appease Nat and get whatever was bugging him about you out of his system, but he had expected you to be on Nat’s level of physicality. The contemptuous way you slapped his blows aside, and the way you got under his guard fast, only made him more wary.

You saw him adjust his stance and tucked in his arms, and gave him a small smirk as you stepped back and raised your fists again.

He moved forward quickly this time, throwing a quick combo of punches aimed at your head and torso and trying to get his arms around you for a hold. You still dodged his strikes easily and when he tried to put you in a hold, you delivered a swift knee to the juncture of his waist on his left side, dancing back again.

His long hair had fallen into is eyes at this point, and when he straightened back up, the look of appraisal he gave was laced with frustration.

Your breathing was still even and relaxed, and Nat had been right, you hadn’t broken a sweat at all in the past 45 minutes. You loosely rolled one tattooed shoulder and gave him a grin, practically begging him to try again.

He clenched his jaw and rushed you. You kept dodging his blows or batting them aside but when he brought his foot around suddenly you moved a little too slow and felt it glance off your cheekbone. He took advantage of your brief surprise and moved behind you whip fast, wrapping one arm around your neck as he braced the other around your right shoulder and he tried to force you to the ground. You sprung your legs off the mat, raising them above your waist before swinging them back down as you got your left hand behind his head and grabbed the back of his tee, then used your momentum to fling him over your shoulders and toss him 15 feet across the room.

He shot up fast and turned back to with a look of complete shock on his face as he crouched into a protective stance. He stared at you like that for a beat before clenching his jaw and straightening up, rolling his head to right.

You followed his line of sight, perplexed. Bucky had jolted off of the wall and looked ready for a fight, flicking his gaze between you and Rogers. Wanda was staring at you with surprise, but was still relaxed. Vis looked at everyone around the room in confusion, trying to understand where the sudden tension had come from. The only person who seemed unfazed by what happened was Nat, all doe eyed innocence as she sipped her drink, not making eye contact with you or Rogers.

Poor Sam chose this moment to wander in. “Hey, Y/N, I heard it’s your b-day. You ready for me to drink you under… What happened?”

“Fuck’s sake Nat, you didn’t tell them.” You hissed at her.

“It didn’t really seem important, Y/N. Besides, it’s your secret.”

“Not a secret Nat. Jesus.”

“Someone want to tell me what the fuck I missed?” Sam was still flicking his gaze around the room, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Y/N just threw Steve across the room like a ragdoll.” Bucky said.

“Oh, word? Interesting.” Sam said.

“Someone want to explain this situation to me, slowly?” Rogers was looking murderously between you and Nat, and you honestly could have killed her yourself.

“Oh, did everyone not know about Y/N’s brain implants?”

All of you looked at Vision when he piped up, and he got a grin on his face like he had just solved an especially difficult puzzle.

“Baby, I think it’s safe to say only you and Nat knew.” Wanda whispered to him.

“But wasn’t that why we came here? Y/N has been hiding from multiple governments for years and her expertise has been very helpful in shielding us from both the United Nations and Stark industries.”

“Yeah, honey, just assume that you’re the only one who knows what you’re talking about.” Wanda said exasperatedly.

“Oh, well then, Y/N was part of an experimental program run by HYDRA under the guise of SHIELD during the 1990s where adolescents received brain implants designed by Dr. Emil Zola to increase sensory perception, decrease pain receptors, and specifically, maximize the efficiency of fast twitch muscle fibers via the phosphagen system, allowing use of these muscles for longer periods of time without negative effects. This was of course after multiple failed trials with a new super soldier serum.

“The program’s graduates were deployed at the beginning of the second Gulf War, purportedly to hunt terrorists, but were also used as HYDRA’s own assassination squad in the eastern hemisphere. The program was discontinued at the end of 2007 and it was thought that all the graduates were culled, but Y/N simply disappeared on mission at the Wakandan border. I admit, I was a bit surprised when she greeted us as she’s presumed dead by most intelligence agencies, but I thought her history was the reason we chose this location. Did I miss anything?” Vis looked at you with genuine interest.

“No that’s pretty much it, thanks.” You said flatly, running a hand over your face.

“See, not that big of a deal.” Nat shrugged.

“Well, Vis and I are going to head to bed.” Wanda chirped up, looking nervously between you, Nat, and the two super soldiers who were now staring at you again. She ushered Vision out of the room quickly and shushed him as he tried to ask if he had done something wrong.

“You really didn’t think this is something I might have wanted to know Nat?” Steve had now turned his attention back to your friend, murder written all over his face.

“No, Steve. Like I said, this is Y/N’s business and it changes literally nothing about how much I trust her. I can’t help it that you got your panties in a bunch over some perceived threat when I told you over and over again that I would willingly put my life in her hands in any situation.”

“You should have told them Nat.” You shook your head at her. She was still playing some sort of game, you could tell, but you didn’t know what.

“Ok, fine, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you wanted the drama, or to have Barnes look at you like some little lost lamb.”

“Aw geez, Buck, stop looking at me like that or I’m going to punch you. I’m fine.”

“Ahm, sorry.” Bucky’s look of overwhelming sympathy would have been heartbreaking if it had been directed at anybody but you, and you really couldn’t handle that right now. “I’m here to talk if you ever need it.”

“Thanks, Barnes.”

“Besides, you and Steve are both in desperate need of a good fuck, and I thought an impromptu discovery like this would give you the push you need.”

And there it was.

“Well, I’m going to have to make it a rain check on those birthday drinks Y/N, look at the time, it’s… 6 PM. Let’s go Barnes.” Sam was now looking everywhere except at you and Rogers as he did his best to drag Bucky, who was doubled over crying with laughter, out of the gym.

You and Steve glared at Nat as she just sat there grinning, looking overly pleased with herself. A flush was creeping up Rogers neck as his fists tightened and loosened. You could see his jaw clenching under his beard and the tendons on his neck stand out in a look of absolute fury.

“You are such a meddling bitch, Romanoff.” You growled at her. Sure, it had been a while, but you were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, which you had told her after she plied you with three bottles of good Russian vodka.

“Yep.” She hopped off her stool and tossed her ice pack into the freezer. “I’m gonna leave you two to it. Talk, fight, fuck, do something. Your sexual tension is bringing down the vibe.”

She easily dodged the kettle bell you lobbed at her head with a laugh as she scurried out of the gym, closing the door behind her.

After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, you and Rogers turned back to each other. His face was no longer bright red as he looked at you, but you noticed something new in his gaze. His pupils were dilated as he peered at you through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. His breathing was deeper as he stepped closer and looked down at you. You were quite a bit taller than Nat, but still only came up to his eyes. He had moved his gaze to your chest, which was rising and falling in a slightly faster rhythm as he took you in, before moving it to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Wanna talk?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Fight?”

“OK.”

You both took several steps back, retreating to your corners. Some unspoken agreement passed between you and Steve ripped off his t-shirt and sweatpants, until he was down to only his boxer briefs. You removed your sweats as well until you stood there in your sports bra and boy shorts. Neither of you examined whether you were doing this to increase your range of motion or for some other, hungrier reason.

You gazed at each other for a beat, drinking each other in. Steve rolled his broad shoulders and neck, bending from side to side briefly as you watched the muscles in his abdomen tighten and relax as he stretched. You reached your arms over your head before folding yourself over to wrap your arms around the backs of your thighs, twisting yourself to loosen your back muscles and feeling his eyes on you the whole time.

After straightening back up, you each gave each other a swift nod then rushed forward wordlessly.

You managed to gain the upper hand first when you vaulted over him as he dove at you, wrapping one arm around his throat as you carried your momentum and brought him to the ground, coiling your legs around his torso like a snake and stretching his right arm out with yours, pinning it in place.

He reached his left arm over his shoulder and punched you in the face.

You let go of him with a grunt and rolled up quickly, but he was able to get behind you and grabbed your left wrist with his right hand, hauling you over his shoulder while his left arm wrapped around your thigh and he drove you backwards into the mat, knocking the air out of your lungs before rolling over to try to pin you.

You got one leg between the two of you and drove your foot into the center of his chest, sending him flying across the room to crash into the free weights. You didn’t give him a chance to recover before charging back into him driving a fist into first his ribs, then his hip and causing him to buckle over before you wrapped one knee around his chest and rolled forward, slamming him into the ground so hard the floor cracked as you went to straddle him.

He caught your knee and carried you into a kneeling position before throwing you into the sandbags with enough force to knock one loose. You landed heavily and grabbed a kettle bell, whipping at him. He barely dodged it as he covered his head and it glanced off his forearm, giving you enough time to rush forward.

He caught you in the center of the mat and twisted you over him until you were pinned; one of your wrists in each of his hands above your head, legs wrapped around your thighs forcing them apart as he pressed his whole body weight into you.

You stopped struggling finally and stared up at him. You both were breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Steve’s hair was falling into his eyes, which were now lust blown as he stared at your lips. You could feel the muscles in his torso twitching against you as he held you in place.

He suddenly released your wrists without a word, and brought one hand behind your head to pull your mouth to his hungrily. His tongue ran along your lower lip and you opened yourself up to him, sighing into his mouth.

His other hand worked its way down your back as his legs loosened their hold on yours and he pressed your hips into his. You felt him start to grind his hardened cock into your mound and let out a low moan. He growled into your lips before releasing your head and started to kiss and bite his way down your neck, drawing soft whimpers from you as he did.

When he reached the tops of your breasts he pulled away from you suddenly to skim one hand up your abdomen before hooking three fingers under the edge of your sports bra and slowly drawing it over your head, eyes boring into yours as he did so. Once his obstacle had been removed, he nuzzled his face into the valley between your tits before gently sucking a bruise there as his beard scratched against your skin. He then moved his mouth to first your right nipple, then your left; rolling them between his teeth and tongue as you pressed your chest further into his face with a gasp.

He continued his downward journey, dipping his tongue into your navel before he reached the top of your shorts. He slowly drew them down your thighs and off until you were laying underneath him, fully bare and wanton, your cunt clenching around nothing as he stared up at you, resting his chin on your lower abdomen as his eyes asked you a silent question and you nodded, almost imperceptibly.

He drew your knees over his shoulders and pulled you down until his beard was flush against your mound. He nuzzled into the soft hair there before kissing the inside of your thighs slowly, his beard scratching the soft skin there as he gently ran the edge of his teeth up to your juncture then back down at an agonizingly slow pace. When you felt him breathe against your entrance, you wrapped one hand in his hair and moaned, and when his tongue found your clit you screamed and arched your back into him.

His tongue slowly circled your clit as he brought up his right hand and brushed his pointer and middle fingers through your arousal slowly, before inserting one finger into your pussy at a deliciously slow pace. You felt him smile against you as you moaned, wrapping your thighs around his neck as he moved in and out, curling his finger against that soft, spongy spot over and over again before adding another finger.

His tongue had stopped drawing it’s slow circles and was now pressing and releasing against you at faster intervals, causing your breath to hitch in your chest as you writhed against his face. He held a third finger at the edge of your entrance and when you pressed yourself into it, he inserted it into your canal, stretching you so good you let out a thin whine. He shook his head back and forth quickly but gently, adding a brand new sensation before he began to suck on your clit.

All the breath rushed out of you at once as you brought your second hand to press his head further into you. His fingers were fucking into you fast now and you felt the tension in your abdomen building as he alternated between sucking and licking at the small bundle of nerves. When he finally latched on, at the same time he curled all three fingers against your g-spot, you came apart around him, screaming his name as your thighs wrapped around his head like a vise as every muscle in your back tightened, thrusting your torso off the mat violently before you sank back down, relaxing as Steve helped you ride it out.

His name was the first thing either of you had said in almost 15 minutes, and he didn’t want to break the silence now. He was afraid if either of you spoke, you’d break the spell that seemed to have settled over you. Instead of saying anything, he gently pulled you down until you were straddling his waist, then nuzzled his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder before resting his forehead on yours and staring into your eyes.

You looked back at him, blinking slowly as you moved your hands down to his hips and slipping your fingers under the edge of his boxer briefs. You slipped them over his hips slowly, and you felt his legs shifting in between yours as he moved himself to help you remove them, never breaking eye contact with you. You matched each other’s breathing as he shifted his hips and lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes giving you a pleading look. You shifted your hips closer to him, and he slowly breached you with his tip, closing his eyes as he did so and letting out a low moan from the back of his throat. He started thrusting into you slowly, trying not to collapse on top of you as he held himself back.

You brought your face up to his and slowly kissed him, gently drawing your tongue along the outside of his lips. The hand you didn’t have buried in his hair moved to his lower back and pressed him into you further, and you softly whispered against his mouth “Please…”

He let out a feral growl and settled his full weight on top of you as his hands moved from their supportive positions. One moved underneath you to hold you against him as he fucked into you fast, the other buried itself in your hair as he wrenched your head back and ran his teeth over your throat, nipping at the small hollow at its base. His hand on your back tilted your hips so each drive of his brought him flush against your clit, and you started breathlessly whimpering as he drove into you at a punishing speed.

Your second orgasm came almost without warning. You felt yourself flutter around him one moment when he suddenly tilted your hips just right and you were seeing stars, your body spasming as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure crashed over you repeatedly.

Steve still wasn’t finished though. He gave you a kiss like a starving man before pulling out of you suddenly. You groaned at the loss before he flipped you over fast and slammed back into you, causing you to let out a cry as his tip kissed your cervix.

He maneuvered you into the position he wanted quickly; one knee hooked over his leg and brought up close to your side with your other leg stretched behind you. He brought one arm underneath you to wrap a massive hand around your throat while the other tangled itself in your hair and drew your head back enough for him to kiss you hard, shoving his tongue down your throat as he continued to drive into you.

You had another orgasm almost immediately. Your pussy was fluttering and clenching like crazy as your body almost vibrated with pleasure. Steve still wasn’t slowing down and you were having so much trouble catching your breath you were worried you were going to pass out. You couldn’t stop driving your hips back into him though, matching his pace and feeling the tension in your core begin to gather again. You rolled your eyes back in your head and let out a thin whimper as you moved a hand between your thighs, trying to gain some sort of control over your own pleasure before your brain short-circuited.

Steve ripped your fingers from your throbbing clit with a growl and replaced them with his own, drawing harsh circles around the overstimulated bundle as you gasped and whimpered. He moved the hand he had at your throat to cup your chin, and tugged at your bottom lip with his thumb. You opened your mouth to gently nip at the rough pad as you felt his hips start to stutter, and he when he bit into your shoulder harshly you let out a scream and came apart violently, shaking underneath him uncontrollably.

His own release was right behind yours, and you felt his hot spend coating your insides as you fluttered around him and he wordlessly roared into your ear. He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he moved his hand from your face to softly cup your breast, lazily rolling one nipple in between his fingers and you came down from your respective highs.

You felt him softening inside you as you started to untangle yourselves. He slowly pulled out and you let out a small sigh at the loss of him. You heard him groan as he caught the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, and he left a slow trail of kisses down your spine before gently turning you over.

You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled your face up to his, kissing him deeply as your other hand trailed through the hair on his chest before coming to rest on his abdomen. He rested his forehead against yours again as you both got your breathing under control, before he broke out in an absolutely sinful grin.

You both started laughing then, the previous tension completely broken as you buried your face in his neck and he held you close to him, shaking with laughter.

“Oh my god, I really did need a good fuck.” You said breathlessly, tears leaking down your cheeks.

“Yeah, well I’d say we shouldn’t give Nat the satisfaction of knowing she’s right but I doubt she wasn’t listening in this whole time.”

“Jesus, of course she was. She’ll never stop meddling now.”

He grunted in agreement before giving you a brief kiss to the top of your head, then you separated yourselves to stumble around and locate your clothes.

The gym was an absolute wreck. Aside from the crack in the floor, the weight racks had fallen over in a domino effect after you had kicked Steve into one and two of the sandbags were leaking everywhere.

You were both covered in bruises from the sparring session and the stiffness you always felt after overexertion seemed to have multiplied tenfold as you struggled to pull your sweats back on, groaning at how tight your muscles were. Steve seemed to be feeling it as well as he let out a hiss through his teeth when he pulled his sweatshirt back over his head.

Once you were both dressed, he stalked over to you like a cat and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you in for one more kiss.

“Guess we should go face the rest of them.” He said, resigned.

You groaned as he dragged you out of the gym, hand in hand, to endure what you were sure was going to be a chorus of cat calls and innuendos, but when the two of you arrived in the living area, it was just Nat curled up on the sofa, giving the two of you a satisfied smirk.

“Where is everyone?” You asked her, looking around to see if maybe they had moved into the kitchen.

Nat threw back her head and laughed. “Oh they all ran out into the snow once you two really got started. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look as embarrassed as Bucky did in my entire life. He forgot his shoes.” She was crying with laughter.

“Outside, Nat, it’s freezing out there!” The sun had already gone down with how late in the year it was and once that happened, the temperature would drop severely.

“I told them but they couldn’t handle it. Bunch of prudes.”

“Yeah, while you sat here and listened, you pervert.” You and Steve started pulling on boots and coats to head out after them.

“I’m the pervert! While you two had the world’s loudest fuckfest less than 20 feet away from the rest of your housemates, hey!” You had thrown her coat at her face and she caught it to shrug around her shoulders. “They probably had to go out five miles before they weren’t able to hear you.”

Steve growled at her as he ripped the front door open and headed out with you on his heels.

“Oh, you’re welcome by the way! It sure would be nice to get some appreciation for your birthday gift, Y/N… shit.”

Steve had lobbed a snowball the size of a golden retriever at her that she barely dodged at the last minute, cursing under her breath.

Steve wrapped an arm around you as you headed out into the fields to find your poor housemates and apologize, nuzzling himself into your hair with a grin. “Happy birthday.” He murmured to you, giving you a quick kiss before ruining the moment by bellowing “Barnes, get your dumbass back here, you forgot your boots!”

You grinned at him, looking up at the sky where the borealis had started and thinking that maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.

[elizabear]

I hate so many things about Avengers: Age of Ultron, so let me just point out one of them:

That bullshit “Language!” line.

I get that they wanted to go hard on Steve Rogers being “old fashioned” and “a man out of his time,” but Steve Rogers wasn’t some prissy 19th century schoolmarm—he was a scrappy little shit-stirrer from Brooklyn who spent two years fighting behind enemy lines in a nasty, bloody, grueling war. Do not tell me that Steve Rogers, an actual war veteran, was shocked to hear one of his teammates say “shit.”

Anyway, the point of this is just to say fuck you forever, Joss Whedon.

[no-gorms]

Everything you write is a blessing to earth, I'm especially in love with the way you write Steve's shit stirrer personality and his dry humour. Also, what made you discover SteveTony? What's the reason you like them as a pairing?

Thank you so much, I appreciate it 💕 I hope you’re having a decent day in general!

Okay so I got into the pairing by reading fic of the comics version (616, mostly) just after the first Iron Man movie came out. There was a great swathe of fic to dive into, most of it through the cap-ironman LJ community, and the dynamics between that Steve and Tony was just really interesting? And it got me invested in how the MCU versions of the characters would turn out. 

I lost interest a bit after The Avengers (their interactions were fine but didn’t do much for me) but then Civil War happened and awoke🤯something💥 in me👀. The prickly warmth between them and the terrible hurt (and especially how that hurt that can only happen because they care about each other) was just delicious. 

By then the characters were also better fleshed out (Steve especially, through Winter Soldier) and I cared about them both as individual characters, but CW was a point where I got invested in what they mean as a pair, in how they relate to each other, and the traits they bring out in each other for good and otherwise. CW and its fallout highlights their very different viewpoints on what it means to do good, and to be good, and the tragedy that occurs when they cannot communicate those viewpoints properly. And they are AWFUL at communicating! Intentional or not that lack of communication is a throughline through the previous Avengers films, which makes those earlier films retroactively more interesting to me, too. All that blank space! All that hurt! It is in these gaps we see fannish expression flourish.

[imhereforbvcky]

Vivid - Part 2

Masterlist  -  Series Masterpage 

Summary: Have you ever met someone who completely embodies a color? Not an aura, not synesthesia. Just… They walk into the room and when you spot them, you think to yourself, “Wow. That is a walking hurricane.” When Clint Barton serendipitously meets a free-spirited stranger, he sees red. Chapter: Clint never expected to see you again, but today he does. Can he convince you to see him again? Maybe on purpose next time?

Warnings: Sailor Mee and the curse of the lip, back at it again. (Swearing. There’s plenty of swearing.)

Word Count: 2503

A/N: Oooh boy. I’m on the fence about this one. I like parts of it, but I’m always leery about including side relationships and fleeting characters. In this case, I think it gives character insight? So I kept it? Again, fair warning, this “you” is practically an OFC.

The next time Clint saw you was as unexpected as the first.

He hated these events. Everyone did. Of course he knew it was important, a good cause, part of his responsibilities, and on, and on, and on. Having a few Avengers listed on the invitation always brought bigger donations. Clint knew this. But it was still a headache and he wasn’t great at pretending.

He’d shaken a few hands, smiled, simpered, and promptly grew bored. By the time Natasha found him observing from the corner, the speeches had nearly concluded. He’d slouched into a deeply uncomfortable rental sofa, spinning a long slender breadstick in his fingers.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?” Natasha teased as she handed him a whiskey neat. He quickly dumped it into his half empty coffee and took a gulp. Almost an Irish coffee. Rougher and not quite according to direction, like him.

“Convince me these are actually edible and I’ll stop.”

She yanked the slender stick from her fingers and crunched down on it. He laughed when she yelped and handed it back rubbing her jaw.

“Think one of these penguin suits is a decent dentist?” she groaned, scanning the room of tuxedos and glittering evening gowns.

“I think if you ask you’ll never hear yourself talk again,” he grumbled, taking another gulp of his drink. “I’m bored.”

Natasha hummed her agreement and took a sip of her cocktail while she scanned the room. “Well the band’s about to start. Take bets on the playlist? I’ll take $100 we get two Journey songs.”

“You think I’ve got $100 to flush down the toilet?”

Natasha laughed and shrugged. “Works on the dentists.”

He laughed, watching her scan the room, looking for a target for the night.

“Big red over there is pretty,” she nodded toward the stage.

Clint perked up, turning to look over his shoulder at the singer in the bright red dress.

“What d’you think her drink is?” Natasha asked, eyes too busy reading a million silent clues to see her friend’s slack jaw and wide, eager eyes. “I’m guessing… Gin martini with lemon. Definitely goes for a twist.”

“Coke,” Clint answered quietly beside her, as shocked as he was mesmerized. The band had begun to play, and of course she was a front-woman. It was so obvious it hurt. Or was that the pounding in his chest.

“What did you say?”

“She likes coke,” he answered, a smile slowly curling his lips. “I’m going rum and coke.”

Thoughtlessly, effortlessly, he was on his feet, moving toward the stage. He suddenly had that feeling again. Red. You wore it and you lived it. You came alive on that stage. With smiles and winks, a little dance and a few songs, you’d drawn every guest into motion.

They tapped of fingers modestly against their glasses mid-conversation. Or they swayed shoulders, skirting the dance-floor hoping to be asked. The more exuberant guests allowed themselves to be swept into the current.

You were a red neon light, glowing, burning. Energy itself innervating the room. He felt it on his skin and in the center of his chest.

“Do you know her?” Natasha turned to him, somewhere between an amused smile and a confused frown distorting her smooth features.

“We danced once…”

“You?”

“In a bodega.” He chuckled at the memory, at the promise it held.

“That makes more sense,” she smirked and scanned the room again. “Well, I guess I’ll have to try again for a dance partner then?”

“Uh-huh.” He hadn’t really heard. He’d stopped paying attention a long time ago. He was drawn like a moth to a bright red flame.

He waited, enjoying the rest of the party, for once. For once, he had something else to think about.

“You guys have been great,” you smiled wide into the microphone. “We’re gonna take a little break. Just enough time to have another look at the silent auction items.” A wink and the spotlight cut off the stage just as you turned to leave it in a swirl of red dress, blue light, and humming voices.

Clint weaved his way through the crowd as you and your band-mates cleared the stage. He had no idea what he was doing or what he might say, but… it seemed like fate. Like the wind had blown a lucky red balloon just within reach.

“No, fuck being friends!” he heard your whisper-shout when he finally spotted you down the hall. With eyes scrunched closed, your hands pushed out in front of you, toward the man across the hall. “This has never been just friends. Not for me. And it’s not for you either; you just can’t… You want to play around but my heart isn’t a toy. I can’t do this hot and cold thing.”

“Baby, don’t be like that,” the man urged, taking your hand. He stepped close. Very close. “I came to see you.”

You shoved the man’s hand away abruptly. “To see me.” A bitter laugh cut through the air. “It’s like you have some kind of special shit-stirrer’s radar. Every time I start doing okay without you, you turn up and make damn sure I’m not.”

“So don’t be without me,” he cooed, stroking his hands down your arms. “Not tonight.”

“This is what I mean. You want me ‘til you don’t. Doesn’t seem like that’s changed, has it?”

He merely sighed and looked at his feet, shaking his head, unwilling to answer. Always unwilling to risk anything but you. He was guarded while you stood, as ever, with a heart open and alive, red and beating, straining to feel it all. As ever, you were tired of breaking yourself against someone else’s walls.

You shook your head and pushed the man away gently. “Just go,” you said softly, hardly more than a whisper.

Having realized, too late, exactly what he’d stumbled upon, Clint turned to slip away in the shadows, unnoticed. Except Clint Barton, SHIELD spy, Avengers sharpshooter was shockingly prone to accidents. The clatter of glass drew your attention down the half-lit hallway. He’d tripped over a cocktail glass some wandering guest had left behind.

“The fundraiser’s the next door on your left,” you called, assuming he was a lost patron.

“Don’t do that,” the man across from you cooed, resuming your argument and reaching for you again. This time you moved out of reach. “We’re good as friends. Come with me, just for the night, for old time’s sake. No strings. We both know what it is this time; no one gets hurt..”

Clint didn’t like pushy people. He didn’t like anyone who manipulated their way into places they weren’t invited. He’d known a few.

“Um actually… I’m uh with the event” Clint stumbled with a sheepish grin that appealed to you immediately. It beamed a signal: gentle and safe, and… familiar. “I was hoping to talk to you.” He was giving you an out and you were grateful.

“I have to go,” you told the man you’d been arguing with. “So do you.”

With that you patted his shoulder and turned down the hall towards the event. Towards Clint.

“Hey honey, what can I help you with?” you asked with a customer service smile glued to your face, eyes shimmering with struggle.

“I was…” Clint stopped and shook his head, changing course. “Are you alright?”

“Of course.” In the momentary pause Clint raised his eyebrows, ever skeptical, and you , you released a heavy sigh. A bittersweet smile tilted your lips. “Or I will be. ”

“He seems like a jerk. You should go have a drink and dance til your feet are numb and buy yourself something weird and awesome and forget all about him,” he held out his elbow for you and you took it, looping your arm around his with a watery laugh. As if you could afford a single thing on the auction block.

You turned to him as he led you back to the party, with your fingers curled around his rigid bicep. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, no. Nevermind.”

“No, come on!” You bumped him with your shoulder. “What was it?”

He turned to face you but shook his head, looking at his feet and yours, swept by that red-as-red-could-be red dress.

“I recognized you, is all,” he admitted. “When you guys started playing... I think the bodega performance was maybe, a cut above, but,” he shrugged with a huge grin on his face.

You burst into laughter at the memory.

“The bodega!” you smacked your palm onto your forehead. “Oh my god, I was… not myself that night.” You tipped your head with a wink to be sure he understood.

This time it was Clint who laughed. And you enjoyed every bit of it. The shocked rise of his eyebrows, the glint in his wide eyes, and the huge grin on his lips… It brightened your heavy heart. He was good at that, apparently.

“I should have known,” he laughed, “Sober people don’t sing to coke bottles.”

“Oh no, I absolutely do that sober.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “You’re that kind of person.”

“And you’re lucky to have witnessed it.”

“I am,” he agreed, with something warm and soft in his eyes.

“That was another ex-boyfriend special. Ending a night to forget with junk food and a hangover on the horizon,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I’m a jump in with both feet sort of girl, ya know?” He did know. In his mind you were bright red, full of risks. And if you were lucky, he assumed, gleaming rewards. It made perfect sense that you felt strongly and acted rashly. Red. “When I see something I like I’m all in. And he was a… a…”

“An idiot?” Clint offered. “An asshat? Blind?”

Your laughter was infectious to him. He didn’t even care if it was at his expense. He just wanted to hear it.

“That too, I like to think,” you agreed through a giggle. “Truth is: I’m the idiot. I feel too much and I get my heart broken too often. Can’t turn it off.”

“No,” Clint argued, dropping your hand from his arm so he could turn to face you. “Definitely not an idiot.”

“No?”

“Brave.”

People like you were a complete mystery to Clint. He could barely bring himself to say things like ‘I love you’ to people he well and truly loved. They knew it. People like Nat, and the others: his family. They shared traumas and challenges that understood why. Yet here you were, brimming with it, ready to share it so easily. This was what he had been drawn to that day in the bodega, and this was what had pulled him down the hallway looking for you this night like a moth to the bright red heat of a flame.

You chuckled softly, turning embarrassed eyes to your feet. “You do know there are real live Avengers in this room, right?”

“WHAT?!” he shrieked, feigning shock and looking wide-eyed about the room.

This time your laugh was deep and full. He was so light and fun, this stranger. Time with him was weightless, light as a feather. It cheered you up moment by tiny moment.

“I don’t know if I qualify as brave in this crowd,” you explained.

“Well,” he turned back to you. “Would I qualify if I danced around like a preschooler on Kool-Aid?”

“Oh, definitely,” you grinned, nodding.

“Bravest of them all.”

“Look out, Lancelot!”

By the time you glanced up to the stage, your band was already gearing up to finish the set. One grateful squeeze to your new yet old friend’s arm and you were off. Clint tried not to read too much into it, but it felt like a whole conversation. A ‘thanks,’ a ‘see you,’ a silent ‘I like this.’ Wishful thinking, he told himself.

You didn’t want to leave Clint’s side, but the show must go on. Especially one paid for by the biggest name in New York City.

It was the worst set of your life. Your band mates were furious. You were completely blowing an important gig, but damn it all, you couldn’t stop laughing.

Clint had planted himself at the center of the dance floor and held true to what you had thought was a joke. He flailed and jerked like a madman. He slid behind unsuspecting dancers making faces and wild gestures. He dragged a confused and reluctant Tony onto the floor for a waltz during your most lively song. It made no sense and it was exactly what you needed.

He spun and lunged and dipped, taking stealthy sips through straws of drinks held behind intimately held partner’s backs. Partner pairs he was absolutely not a part of.

What finally, finally got you to step away from the mike, cover your face, and double over laughing was the chicken dance in the middle of a slow mushy ballad.

The pianist glared at you before looking to your lead guitarist for help. They turned it into a lovely instrumental on the fly and you ended the show early.

“Thank you all, you’ve been a wonderful audience,” you managed through giggles. “And a generous one by the look of it! Give yourselves a hand! A beautiful evening for a beautiful cause.”

You paused for the soft applause that filled the room as the dancing stopped. Clint grinned up at you, fanning himself in mock exhaustion. Though, you didn’t doubt he probably had worn his dress shoes to blistering.

“And a special round of applause for my personal hero down here on the dance floor! Mr. Lancelot!”

This time it was Clint who turned red. He tried to duck into the crowd, shaking his head with a sheepish laugh.

“What the hell are you up to?” Tony asked in a discrete, tight lipped murmur as he, slung an arm over Clint’s shoulder, saving him from the limelight.

“Oh damn,” he sighed, high and long. Exhausted. “I have no idea.”

“If uh,” you stammered on the stage, the first time all night Clint had seen you look unsure. “If he wanted to hang around for a bit I’m gonna go get some pizza because this fancy fundraiser food is served on a toothpick and I’m starving.”

Clint’s entire face lit up. It was the most lovely thing you’d ever seen. It started in his eyes: they looked up into the light of the stage and glittered, narrowing as the smile pushed at his cheeks, rounding them and wrinkling the soft skin near his clear blue eyes. Lopsided, his lips drew over grinning white teeth, as he glanced at his feet, blushing.

He was cute as hell.

He laughed under Tony’s arm and nodded. A matching smile erupted across your own face, for the first time in weeks, excited to be greeting the early morning hours.

“You’re kidding me,” Tony scoffed from beside Clint. “Those moves actually worked?”

Part 3 >>

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, dizzykarma

October 19-A Tony/Darcy fic - Happy, romantic, meet cute, soulmate whatever. I just want some happy and some #teamironman and #tonystarkdefensesquad, for @dizzykarma

Written by @hotpinklizard

Darcy and Jane have been settled in at Avengers Tower for less than a week and so far, it’s not bad? They’d both kind of expected the worst, but it was either accept the job offer from Tony Stark or be stuck under SHIELD’s thumb again. Jane can hold a grudge like nobody’s business, so to Stark they went. 

It’s been quiet so far, most of the actual Avengers at the facility upstate, so they’ve mostly been left to their own devices. They’d been offered additional lab assistants and a whole staff, but Jane had refused. “We’ll get our bearings first, then decide if we need more people.” That’s fair. They’d had to taser their old intern Ian when it’d turned out he’d been trying to steal their research, so Darcy figures they’re entitled to a little paranoia.

All in all, it’s been quiet for the last week, so when music starts blasting loud enough to vibrate their glass walls in the middle of the workday, they’re so startled that Darcy nearly drops her mug of tea and Jane actually squeaks.

“What the hell?” Jane asks, looking at Darcy incredulously. “This is an R&D floor, right?”

“Yeah, it’s - where are you going?” Darcy gets up out of her chair, running after Jane who’s all but stomped out the door. She knows that when Jane gets like this, it’s best to cut it off early or else she’ll be steamed up for hours. “Janey, maybe we shouldn’t go yell at people in our first week?”

“It’s loud!” Jane yells back, barely heard over the music.

“I know, but we’re the new kids here! Maybe play nice for a bit?”

“No!”

Jane follows the music, Darcy follows Jane, and they end up walking (stomping) into a lab down the hall and to the left. It’s deafeningly loud in here, loud enough that Darcy genuinely has no idea how someone could think, let alone be productive. Back in Black is blasting from the speakers on the wall and while normally Darcy would be cool with that, it’s too much if it’s loud enough to make her teeth rattle.

Jane is shouting, though Darcy can barely hear her, and a second later, Tony Stark is popping up from behind a desk and oh god, Darcy hasn’t even unpacked yet and they’re about to be fired.

“What?” Tony shouts, barely audible over the music.

“What the fuck why is it so loud I’m trying to work are you insane - !“

“Jane!” Darcy hisses, stepping on her foot before turning to Tony, who’s looking back and forth between them in confusion. Darcy takes a deep breath, putting all her mother’s advice about operatic breath support to use, and shouts, “Look, I’m really a fan of your music taste and while normally I’d be so on board, it’s so loud you might burst my scientist’s eardrums, so can you turn it down please!”

Tony stares at her with his jaw hanging open for long enough that she’s starting to get legitimately worried he’s having some kind of fit, then he looks up shouts, “JARVIS, kill the music!” It’s so quiet so suddenly that it’s a bit disorienting, an obnoxious buzzing in her ears. Tony Stark is still staring at her in shock and she really hopes she isn’t about to be fired.

“Thank GOD, Rhodey was sure you’d be a supervillain,” he says.

It’s Darcy’s turn to stare, her hand flying to her ribs where those words have been on her skin since she was born. Jane, who’s known what Darcy’s words said ever since they got drunk after Thor said Jane’s, is looking between them in shock, and well, it’s just that kind of day.

“Are you...do you have any idea how much shit I’ve taken for having that on my body?” she asks, and that’s definitely not what she meant to say. “I mean...uh...hi?”

“Pepper has been threatening to cut the speakers’ wires for years,” Tony says, a grin spreading over his face. “Rhodey’s been carrying around earplug for the past fifteen years.”

“Okay, while we’re on that, why does he think I’m a supervillain?” Darcy asks.

“Because of the whole ‘my scientist’ thing,” Tony says dismissively. He’s still looking positively delighted, eyes roaming over her, and a slow smile spreads over her face. Tony Stark, notorious shit-stirrer, is her soulmate. He’s smart, he’s gorgeous, and she’s 100% sure he’ll be willing to help her raise some hell.

“Okay, so now that you’ve found her, the music can stay at a reasonable volume, yes?” Jane says.

“Jane,” Darcy hisses, not looking away from Tony.

“Absolutely,” Tony says. He doesn’t look at Jane either. “I’m stealing her for the day.”

“Good, I don’t need her pining,” Jane says. “Have fun, don’t blow anything up without me, keep the volume down.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!” Darcy says to Jane’s retreating footsteps.

Tony’s still looking at her like she’s everything he’s dreamed of, which is a damn heady thing. She’s saved from accidentally saying something embarrassing by Tony asking, “Do you want to get a drink and get to know each other? Or help me program a bot to roll around after Rhodey saying ‘I told you so’?”

Darcy grins. “Can we do both?”

“You’re perfect.”

[lovelyirony]

Any soft fluffy thorbruce content with tired Bruce and Thot Odison you could provide would be so appreciated!

THOT 

-first of all that’s thor’s contact name in bruce’s phone and bruce always sighs when he remembers he has to call his husband in public because he has to say “Friday, call Thot.” 

and friday, of course, is a shit-stirrer and always goes “Just to confirm: Thot? Thot Odinson?” and bruce has to grit out a “yes” and watch as three teenagers try not to cackle 

-thor LOVES music and will dance all over the place. he is not…good. by human standards! all of the asgardians know he is actually quite talented and is following the energy the song gives off 

-they bake together and the cooking channel is HILARIOUS

-it includes gems such as: 

“hi i’m bruce banner and i’m gay. this is my husband. i’m gonna show you how to a.) land a nordic hot dude and b.) make blueberry streusel! not necessarily in that order” 

“hello my name is thor and i’m in love with both lemon merengue pie AND bruce banner. he’s cute. he’s shaking his head but he knows he’s gorgeous” 

“while thor is busy grocery shopping, i’m going to spill the details on why steve is actually garbage and no, tony, this has NOTHING to do with the fact that he ate my really good spring rolls that i can’t get again because the restaurant closed. So, Steve’s a communist! I want him arrested.” 

-they’re the CUTEST couples and always have the BEST red carpet looks

-thor literally looks godly and says FUCK gender roles. 

-bruce likes his arms in strapless dresses so who is thor to deny his husband anything? 

-target runs are amazing and they buy useless shit all the time 

-thor and bruce actually do a lot of science together and one time they ended up time traveling (don’t ask) 

-they cuddle up together and watch horror movies to fall asleep (thor finds them hilarious, especially with bruce’s commentary interspersed) 

-bruce has a FLOPPY SUNHAT and he looks GORGEOUS

bruce banner is better than literally all of the other avengers but we’ve known that since at least 2008 

-thor likes using static electricity to make bruce’s hair stand up on end for the Twitter 

-thor and bruce have the FUNNIEST TWITTERS

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

War of the Realms Strikeforce: Land of Giants Thoughts

This was recommended to me and I’m rather glad it was.

 I’ve said before that the best Marvel Team-Up story was in fact...Spider-Man vs. Wolverine. The intended irony of course being SvW executed MTU’s intentions better than any MTU issue itself ever did.

In a similar vein this story is perhaps the best New Avengers issue we’ve ever had, at least as far as Spider-Man was concerned.

Don’t get it twisted, I’m not saying this type of story should be the norm for Spider-Man, either in its setting or tone. Nor that New Avengers should’ve written Spider-Man like this every issue.

But in New Avengers Spider-Man seemingly existed 99% of the time to provide (bland) quips or ‘funny bits’ and otherwise to be a body to throw against bad guys along with everyone else. Little exploration of his character occurred, little use of his personality bouncing off of anyone else’s defined personality occurred. It didn’t help he often was in settings and stories Spider-Man doesn’t really belong in.

This issue weirdly follows in New Avengers footsteps as far as making Spider-Man the ‘funny guy’ and putting him in a setting he doesn’t belong in.

But unlike New Avengers stories this story goes further with that, brings in a dash of Spider-Man’s actual personality beyond being the quipper and embraces it’s premise.

As an ongoing this would probably suck. If this was in a main Spider-Man title it’d probably suck. If it was indeed outside of Spider-Man’s main title but still impacting upon him somehow it’d probably suck.

Because this issue is an odd duck in that it’s Spider-Man’s story but is not a Spider-Man  story if you see what I mean.

Allow me to clarify.

A Spider-Man story traditionally is street level, grounded, personal, revolves around more relatable issues and the like. You see where I am getting at.*

This story is nothing like that. Spider-Man’s primary relationship is with a talking flying horse for God’s sake!

However because the story is from Spider-Man’s POV it is in essence his story.

And Taylor (of the current FNSM run fame) does a deft job with the assignment.

By making this a one shot that isn’t even labelled as a Spider-Man story it alleviates expectations from readers. It in essence makes it okay we are seeing a story about Spider-Man talking to a magic horse queen.

It also helps that the whole story doesn’t take itself too seriously. Unlike Bendis’ brand of quips for quips sake, inserting them into serious situations where they didn’t belong, Taylor hits what I call ‘the One Piece sweet spot’.

One Piece is a popular manga/anime franchise from Japan. It is an epic adventure full that strikes a deleicate balance between something of a gag machine, an action thriller and a heartbreaking tragedy.

The gags allow you to accept the absurdity of something like Spider-Man, Cap, Wolverine, Luke Cage and Iron Fist riding flying horses to fight Frost Giants. By rights this isn’t really the best setting or type of story for any of these characters but the gags allow you to go with it.

But there is just the right amount of pathos and gravitas and action at the right moments for there to be a level of genuine emotion to resonate with you.

You go from:

“Oh my God Spider-Man is befriending a talking flying horse queen. That’s so absurd it’s awesome”

To:

“*sob* The talking flying horse queen died. I’m so sad right now”

I think the secret ingredient holding this together is the fact that

a)      It’s Spider-Man himself who’s the focus character and

b)      His narration is a framing device, specifically one addressed to MJ

Spider-Man is a less gritty character compared to Luke, Danny, Steve or Logan. Of them he’s the least likely to kill and the least likely to be described as a warrior (though he is one of a fashion).

He’s the most like us basically, thus this specific setting, in spite of it being so far removed from traditional Spider-Man fare, works well to emphasis the relatability at the core of the character.

He doesn’t want to fight in a war. He’s the least at home there arguably. After all Cap and Wolverine are clear cut veterans. Danny is a trained warrior and Luke knows what it is to grow up trying to survive desperately.

This isn’t in disparagement of Peter, but rather it places him in a more sympathetic position, akin to a soldier far from home, not wanting to be there, uneasy about his presence on foreign ground, unsettled by the violence of war and trying to keep going by focussing his memories on his ‘girl back home’. Taylor found a way to bring in the ‘normal Average Joe’ aspect of Spider-Man into a setting where by rights it has no place, a setting which doesn’t invite ‘Peter Parker’ but rather just generic superhero Spider-Man.

That’s another way in which this story is weirdly connected to SvW actually. In that story Peter was also unsettled by violence, ruminating on MJ and thrown off kilter by a new unfamiliar setting and gets an up close look at death. Of course death is no stranger to Spider-Man, but a death amidst battle is a little different to something like Gwen Stacy or Uncle Ben’s death.

There is another connection though, and as obvious as it is to spell out...it’s Wolverine. This story could hardly be called a Spider-Man/Wolverine story but this story does bounce them off of one another very well. Wolverine is something of a shit stirrer who messes with Spider-Man and doesn’t wholly take him seriously (in character for him). Spider-Man is meanwhile uses him as the straight man to his humour. But there is an element of respect between them with Wolverine clearly empathising with Peter’s grief over Arctorius. This adds up, not only because Logan has seen much death in his long life, but because he has a kinship with the animal kingdom and understands all too well the loss of a comrade in arms.

So does Cap, who also shows a little empathy after Arctorius’ death. Indeed Peter and Steve’s relationship, whilst it doesn’t go as far as it could, is done quite well because Peter’s respect and admiration for Cap is clear cut and Cap gets what kind of person Peter is. Him recommending a shield is a small, obvious, yet very nice moment between the two that in a way speaks volumes.

Luke and Danny don’t share much with Spider-Man in the story but along with Logan and Cap are great inclusions in relation to Spider-Man.

Cap and Logan are soldiers who in a way are larger than life. You could see them as older brothers to Spider-Man but one who looks after you and the other likes you but trolls you too. Danny and Luke meanwhile are more street level guys like Peter. Any of these guys wouldn’t be bad options for a Spidey team up story and all are out of place in this setting. But when put together their ‘out of placeness’ works.

Helping things along is that the action is decent enough, Spider-Man’s shield attack being the clear cut highlight.

Arctorius is of course the highlight though. In a few pages Taylor makes you invest in this ridiculous concept and character and buy her relationship with Spider-Man. Thus her death and the issue’s end is poignant and resonates nicely, sad as it is.

As a final pro, Spider-Man is referred to as a jester.

This is actually a decent way of reconciling Spider-Man into a high fantasy setting. I prefer JMS’ idea of Spider-Man as the ‘trickster’ but jester works well. Even Thor in older stories has observed Spider-Man’s humour is a mask for his insecurities and Arctorius’ labelling him a jester isn’t derisive. He’s a jester warrior.

Now it ain’t perfect.

I’m no Iron Fist expert so I don’t know how fair this is, but I feel Danny was written a bit too comedic in this story to the point of being out of character.

Additionally when it came time for everyone to list of their berserker rages Spider-Man’s fell flat. It’s played off as Spider-Man is just too nice and wholesome to have such rages when there is a clear history of him having them. Death of Gwen Stacy anyone? In isolation it was a decent if predictable joke, but it’s not true to Spider-Man’s history. You could always No. Prize it but I feel it came off more like Taylor not remembering or thinking through the dialogue.

All in all I highly recommend this issue as a fun detour. It deserves your money more than League of Realms.

 *Now there can be exceptions like the JMS run, but he was wise enough to temper the magic and mysticism by grounding it in more a more relatable setting most of the time or connected to more clearly defined Spider-Man topics and subject matter. For example a mystically empowered villain abducted children to the Astral plane prompting Spider-Man to go there and save them. Sounds out of place right? Well yes but the villain in question is a common crook who got lucky, he’s abducting Peter’s underprivileged students, Spidey needed to do regular street level investigation to figure out the guy’s game and saving the kids made him miss a date with MJ.

[ao3feed-buckybarnes]

Heaven Sent

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/31KBhEb

by Lenni51074

Gorgeous Father Steve Rogers has asked you to develop an ad campaign to help bring more people into the Catholic faith. Being a confirmed atheist, you’d love to say no. But he’s a priest. An extremely handsome, sexy priest who uses the puppy-dog eyes to great advantage. God might strike you down if you say no.

Then you commence an online “relationship”, for want of a better word, with Cameron Klein, an infuriating newspaper columnist who gets under your skin like nobody else ever has before.

Just when you think life couldn’t get any more confusing, you meet the devastatingly good-looking Bucky Barnes, and your happily-single-and-ready-to-mingle life is thrown into chaos.

And you start to wonder if maybe God is involving you in one huge cosmic joke…

An Avengers-based reworking of the novel “Heaven” by Susi Rajah.

NOTE: I do not own the novel “Heaven” upon which this story is based, nor do I own any of the Marvel characters.

Words: 2227, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Avengers Book Rewrites

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Cameron Klein, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Scott Lang, Loki (Marvel), Nick Fury, Thor (Marvel) - Mentioned, Wanda Maximoff (mentioned), Pietro Maximoff (mentioned), James "Rhodey" Rhodes (mentioned), Bruce Banner (mentioned), Cooper Barton, Lila Barton, Nathaniel Pietro Barton, Justin Hammer, Matt Murdock (mentioned), Stephen Strange (mentioned), Peter Quill (mentioned), Maria Hill, Sam Wilson, Jane Foster (mentioned)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Cameron Klein/Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader, Natasha Romanoff & Reader, Clint Barton & Reader, Tony Stark & Reader, Peter Parker & Reader, Scott Lang & Reader, Ex-Loki & Reader

Additional Tags: Journalist Bucky Barnes, Priest Steve Rogers, BFF Natasha Romanoff, Detective Sam Wilson, boss tony stark, Intern Peter Parker, Scott Lang is a shit-stirrer, Ex-fiance Loki, Priest Nick Fury, Bartender Phil Coulson, Stan Lee Cameo, Reader is hopeless, I already know this so don't @ me, Reader Has Issues, Romantic Comedy, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton's kids are awesome, Reader needs a smack in the head, Reader doesn't know how to do feelings, Avengers Modern Day AU

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/31KBhEb

[moody213]

WicDiv #35 Impressions (and craters)

(I started this commentary 2 days after the last issue was released, and seeing how the latest issue was released on Friday and I haven’t finished yet (something extremely typical of my lax/non-existent work ethic) I’ve decided it needed to be done before I would allow myself to read issue #36. Here goes!) 

SPOILERS UP TO #35

This issue was particularly hard for me to start reading. Ever since we reached the penultimate arc the idea that we had so little to go has become an anxiety-stirrer for me; I've been a fan since before Laura got her freckles, when all we had was Luci and Laura inviting us on a floor of broken glass to anticipate the next Mcklevie/Gillen chapter after Young Avengers. The idea that the past four years were almost done- well, the subtext should be obvious for anyone who's been reading. 13 hours after release, I read. And then I opened issue one and did a concurrent re-read. And then I reread yet again and promptly passed out.

Seeing that Mckelvie has reworked his first issue art- our first introduction- was marvelous to behold. Matt Wilson's recolor was also stunning (except for one instance of Amaterasu's lips!). I compared them on my second reread, and both the subtle and not-so-subtle reworking truly encapsulate the journey they've both been on: I found issue one an enthralling, gorgeous ride from the beginning; they're my favorite colorist and artist currently working in comics. Issue #35 has a level of ease and understanding of the art that was perhaps more rigid in the first one.

Minerva's rework was especially obvious here; she went from a cute little Shirley Temple gremlin to a child star a bit beyond her cutest years. Also, the difference in hair and clothing (I mean, that sleeve! I stan that sleeve! The ease! And I fixated on it every reread like a sleeve fetishist?)

I love that it kind of insinuates that the version we got on #1 was the ‘it is known’ version and this was the post-Persephone-being-alive truth, like in issue 20. I love the warmth and depth this rework adds.

Susanoo is a peach who cared too much and truly was too good for this world.

Minerva leaving the fire splattered in blood with her hands in fists- iconic and quintessentially WicDiv!

Ananke never cared about the gods. She was crying for her own approaching expiry date. Everything we learn about her adds more to this pathetic and yet unrelentingly cruel force of selfishness. I love how the last turn of Minerva is treating the old Ananke the way she treats the gods- and then assuming her place. Fitting.

JOSEPHINE BAKER AS 1923 PERSEPHONE #DEAD #GAGGING

Set- even as a talking head, ever the bore.

Face-flaying issue #11 powerup!

I love how the pixelated effect still shows up a bit less clearly. It reminds me of the 'tattooing of reality' aspect of the deal between Ananke and her sister. They're resources she can translate- here, for 'eternal' life four faces must be shorn from reality.

The colors and general atmosphere of being somewhere underground and laden with arcane implications is so apparent- I love the warmer tones, they remind me of those heady spiritual moments when you’re somewhere religiously/arcanely significant (those places are always smaller than you’d expect) and the gravity and headiness of the energy seems to make everything a bit more vibrant and hard to explain.

I love jewel tones. This is the quality discourse you’ve been looking for!

The art on the transformation scene, and the purple skull eyes: shivers. How they achieved the transformation effect so much more subtly and yet just as profoundly as the usual God transformations- Mckelvie/Wilson, you're just bragging now.

Present Minerva is a cold snake and if I was even remotely on her side of the equation I would be so proud of my evil maidenr/future manipulative crone!

I love how gradually she was transformed into this punk-y, calculating creature; with her hair down you can really see how the red is a callback to previously blood-splattered Anankes and Ananke (Maiden Edition With Minerva Mask) and yet it’s been peeking out at us from Imperial Phase.

Such an accomplished actress, a veritable Shirley Temple! (Dakota Fanning?)

I wish I could go back to meeting McKelvie/Gillen last year and make a clever quip about talking heads and evil Minervas. That’s my baseline for an excellent twist: I WISH I COULD HAVE SEEN IT COMING!

In the present, Laura makes me sad. The warmth between the gods has seemingly dissipated once and for all. Everyone's either looking out for themselves or isolating. Laura's idea that if they were truly friends Cass wouldn't be screaming at her- hogwash.

Oh, Jon. I love you. I also truly think you’re our always-captured/suffering proxy princess. I can’t wait for him to do something other than be forced to build Woden another contraption that removes consent from the conversation. (He does have a pattern!)

Again, Minerva, you (literal!) snake! That expression on her face when she’s setting Baal up is DELICIOUS and I’m pretty sure I’ve made that expression before, most recently when I convinced a friend to eat coffee grounds I pretended were healthy brownies. (I know! I’m an awful person. But at least I stopped her from taking another bite. By laughing. Still.)

I loved how in the Writer’s Notes Gillen says this was supposed to be more pages+no words, but I think it works perfectly for what he’s going for even with the words. I can almost hear suspense music reading Laura/Persephone’s thoughts, and the insight into her feelings feels earned after so much with nothing further elucidating her thoughts. I mean, we all thought she was pretty horrible to Baal, no? A bit indifferent.

I’ve really missed her, you guys. She’s our Laura, our herald, our first guide. We lost her, we found her, she lost herself, she found (?) herself (or at least her thoughts).

I’m really curious about Jenny (Laura’s sister). I really wonder if we’ll have enough issues for anything to wrap up about that aspect of the story, or if it was a superficial lure, like Baph’s Christmas Dinner with Laura’s Family was basically a simulation of reality, and meant nothing, really.

 Minerva getting pushed is really strong, in that there’s no way he’d ever do that unless he was under a crazy amount of pressure. Also, if I was woken up with news my greatest secret, a secret I’ve invested so much in keeping, was about to be discovered by a person I LOVE and CHERISH, well... I wouldn’t be that conscientious either. Reaction got, Minerva, you manipulative teenage goddess, you! (Is it obvious that if I were a 13-year old again I would choose to be Minerva? I would choose her so hard, she’s Hermione Granger but, like, with none of the redeeming qualities except maybe caring for her parents before her older aspect (?!?) literally decimated them.)

Flashback page is spectacularly done. I love the reds of the room, and the repetition of four skulls (except these are baby skulls we are set to believe and not primates! NOT THAT IT WOULD MAKE IT BETTER BUT MAYBE THEY’RE NOT INNOCENT CHILDREN... no. No. This argument doesn’t make it any better, I’m just pathologically delusional when it comes to people I like.) 

‘I’m not afraid of who I am. But everyone else should be.’ It’s one of those Baal-isms you’d be disinclined to take a note of, one of those prepared one-liners like the line about how when you know someone’s bad in their guts, you don’t have to lie about your own shit. We just thought it was posturing, and here we have evidence of child sacrifice. As can happen, sometimes, never. 

And now I’m finally off to read the latest issue!

[winterhawkkisses]

82.

[Also on AO3]

R&R

 Unlike some people in this crazy superhero team, Clint knew how to take advantage of enforced vacation time. Fury had barely finished his sentence before he was on his feet, slinging his bow across his back and heading for the door at something that wasn’t so far short of a flat out run. Straight to the locker room, back into jeans and sneakers, bow tucked away a little more discreetly in a duffle he swung onto his shoulder, and then he was haring up the stairs and out into the sunshine. It had been literal days since he’d been out in it, and he took a long moment to tilt his head back and just bask.

Clint took a deep breath of exhaust-smoke and cart-coffee and the barest gently green edge of spring, and felt a grin spreading across his face. He had no plans – Clint was not a man that planned, it was part of his genetic make-up or something – but there were certain essentials that needed attending to, and Ravi the Coffee Guy wasn’t gonna cut it on this sort of day. Good coffee was worth a little effort, when you had a little time.

Taking the subway felt like blasphemy when the weather was so fine, so he sauntered along the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. He fished out his phone, typed ‘SUN!!!’ and an indecipherable string of emojis, sent it to Tasha – who was probably sparring with Steve, see previous comments about inability to use vacations appropriately – and after a second’s thought sent it to the rest of the team, too. Sam responded instantly with his own set of cheerful emojis, because Sam was nowhere near Clint’s favorite but always edged higher whenever electronic communication was involved. A few seconds later his phone buzzed again, and he was a little startled to see a text from Barnes; even more so when it turned out to be a picture of the goddamn grumpy cat, because who the hell had educated the guy about memes?

Clint responded with a picture of Princess Monster Truck and then shoved his phone into the top of his bag, crossing the street with a herd of German tourists and ducking into a little alley that had nothing much to grab the attention save a chalkboard with a solar-powered dancing flower zip-tied to one of its legs.

Poorly thought through sleep deprived choices, it said, with an arrow that pointed to the street, and coffee with an arrow pointing deeper into the alley and a tiny chalkdust heart. And, okay, if this was a fairy tale – if life was a fairy tale, or a slasher film, or an after school special – then Clint would be fucked several times over, because he could never resist a mysterious offer, and he could never remember to bring a ball of goddamn string. Life had proved over and over again that fairy tales weren’t exactly its area, though, and Clint had a million and one tiny unregarded sanctuaries pinned all over his mental city map.

It was nothing much inside. Bare brick and local art, in the way of hipster coffee shops the western world over, wrought iron bar stools and the occasional sinfully comfortable armchair that would likely be the cause of WWIII. And, somehow, behind the counter, the most goddamn talented baristas, or the most expensive coffee machine, or… look, someone somewhere made a deal with the devil and Clint wasn’t judging, that was all.

 Jin was behind the counter, the shop’s logo stretched all out of shape across her chest, a huge smile at home on face. She’d rearranged the syrups again, by color this time, and on the back counter there was a towering structure built out of take-out cups and plastic lids and wooden stirrers that was threatening to fall down any second.

“Morning, Hawkguy,” she said, and Clint scowled out of habit.

“Coffee,” he said and, pointed, “for Clint.”

“Sure,” she said, scrawled something that was definitely not short enough to be his name on the largest cup they had, then passed it across to Devonte who’d been hiding behind the muffin basket. He fumbled for it, caught sight of the sharpied words, bit down hard on a laugh, and turned to the monstrous coffeemaker with his shoulders suspiciously unsteady.

“Kids these days,” Clint said. “No respect.”

“Coffee for The Least Hot Avenger?” Devonte called, and there was a perfect moment of silence when every head in the shop turned Clint’s way. He let his shoulders slump.

“Thanks,” he said. “Thanks for that.”

Clint had sold his soul for coffee. His soul, his self-respect, probably a few other things he’d never had any use for. He dragged out his phone again, snapped a quick picture of the cup in his hand and sent it Barnes’ way. Guns, he got back, mysteriously, his phone buzzing harshly against the plate-glass door as he pushed it open. He leaned against the wall a second, breathing in richly scented steam as he painstakingly picked out a one-handed reply.

Seems a little excessive. Fury’d be mad.

An eyeroll emoji came back. *Flex*. Least hot my ass.

Clint tapped his phone against his teeth for a second before shrugging and shoving it back into his bag, not feeling up to the level of sarcasm that a response would require before the caffeine had hit his bloodstream. He took his first scalding sip, winced and shoved away from the wall, heading back out into to the sun-drenched world outside of the alley.

There wasn’t much of significance to his day. He took a wander through Central Park, ate a pretzel, wandered home through the weeds and cracked concrete, bought some amazing baklava from his local bodega, dropped most of it off with Simone – not every Avenger had a superhero metabolism, damn it – and fixed the leaking faucet in her bathroom while he was at it. The day ended with his feet, crossed at the ankle, propped up on the low wall that encircled the roof, beer in hand and a half-eaten burger on the paper plate on his lap. The sun had disappeared behind tall buildings a while back, but it was still painting the sky in shades of purple and orange and pink. He snapped a picture, feet off center and blurred against the bright-striped sky, and sent it to Tasha and Barnes.

Tasha responded with a truly hilarious picture of Steve Rogers, sprawled on his back and gasping up at the ceiling of the gym in Stark Tower like a beached fish, an expression of pained bemusement on his face.

Gotta teach me how to do that he replied, and she sent back a wink.

You will learn when one of us dies, which was a level of ominous that warranted screencapping and saving in his ‘ominous Russians’ folder alongside angry Colossus and way too many pictures of Barnes’ face.

Speaking of, Barnes’ response took a little longer. Eventually he sent his own picture of the sunset, just as beautifully colored but with something off about it. After a moment’s squinting, Clint realized that it was a reflection – that it’d been taken through a window, and he could see just the barest hint of Barnes’ scowl. Which made sense, since it took a special kind of grouchy to not take advantage of the weather, to stay all miserable and moodily lit inside.

Sunshine not your style? He responded. He left his phone on his thigh, waiting for any sign Barnes was typing, something odd and kinda unsettled in his stomach.

Steve was w tony, Barnes sent back, eventually, and Clint flailed, sitting up and slamming both feet back to the floor. What the fuck?

He quickly called up his contacts list and down to the Cs, stabbing his finger at ‘Captain Cut’ with a little more force than his elderly smartphone maybe deserved. It rang and rang on the other end, and Clint’s temper wound slowly higher until finally Steve answered with a kinda out of breath mumble that meant Clint knew exactly what he’d been doing.

“Clint?”

“Tell me Barnes’s not still on house arrest,” he snapped, and there was a suspicious silence on the other end of the call.

“He said it was –“

“Okay, sure, we’re gonna let the guy with the guilt complex the size of Tony’s ego make rational decisions today. But hey, you got your booty call, right?”

“Clint, that’s not –“

“Fair? No. How about that.”

Thumbing a button wasn’t as satisfactory as slamming down a handset – even a flip phone would’ve felt better. He wasn’t sure what it was that had him so angry, why it felt so personal. Maybe it was the period directly after the Chitauri had showed up, when everyone had looked at him with suspicion and he tried not to read Tasha’s constant quiet presence as something she hadn’t chosen. Maybe it was the time after he’d recruited her, how long it’d been before he’d seen the sun.

He unlocked his phone again and logged in to his work email, ignoring the text from Tony written in caps.

Fury –

Tomorrow I’m stealing the Soldier, assuming clearance high enough.

Then he sat in the slowly dying light and googled what the hell to do with him once he had him.

 *

 Bucky woke to the smell of hot coffee, the mug on his dresser still steaming. Had to’ve been one of the spies, since no one else was quiet enough, and he assumed Romanova since the archer’d been out of there like his ass was on fire the day before. So he was a little surprised when he emerged into the common area to find Barton doing something at the stove, a pale purple shirt stretched over his shoulders and unflatteringly baggy jeans barely clinging to his ass.

“Thanks,” Bucky said, raising the mug a little, and Barton turned to give him a grin.

“You’re gonna need it,” he said. When Bucky just cocked an eyebrow, his grin widened in response. “We’ve got plans.”

“Unless they revolve around the couch and the gym you’re shit out of luck,” Bucky said, trying not to let any bitterness seep into his tone. “’cos Fury’s decided –“

“That I’m a responsible adult,” Barton finished, and shot Bucky the kind of conspiratorial look that made him look all of twelve years old. “Now eat your damned pancakes and put this on.”

‘This’ was a slim black band for Bucky’s wrist. There was nothing visible on it, nothing obviously technological, but Barton had to close it with his thumb, presumably for the print, and it had the cold oddly heavy feel of something that’d come off for nothing short of a bomb blast.

“Just imagine it’s counting your steps,” Barton said, fidgeting with the thing until it was settled to his satisfaction. “Picture yourself as a suburban mom. Your name is Helen.” He looked up to meet Bucky’s eyes, and the sparkle in his made Bucky’s lips automatically turn up into a little grin. Barton’s eyes dropped to his mouth and he blinked, the surprise on his face unflattering.

“So where’re we headed?” Bucky asked, taking a step back and snagging the plate Barton had set out for him.

Rather than answer, Barton stuffed a forkful of pancake into his mouth and gave him another one of those stupid grins, his cheeks bulging out like a chipmunk. Bucky sighed, resigned, and followed suit.

The instructions for dressing were ‘nothing fancy’, and considering how much Barton whined when expected to show up in anything even vaguely resembling a suit, Bucky figured shirt and jeans was his best bet, black on black, battered boots on his feet. He hung a pair of aviators from the v-neck of his shirt and ran a hand through his hair, shoving a cap over it before heading out to join Barton by the elevator.

The guy was already wearing sunglasses, leaning back into the corner as the elevator started moving, a faintly infuriating little smirk on his lips. Bucky figured he was angling for more questions, was aiming to annoy, so instead he folded his arms across his chest and let himself relax against the wall. Wherever they ended up it’d be better than another day working out until he was drenched in sweat, ordering take-out, watching whatever he could bear for more than five minutes on Tony’s giant TV.

When they walked out the door of Stark Tower it was all Bucky could do to keep walking. He’d been out on the roof, sure, but it’d been a long time since street level. The sunlight was bliss but everything else was overwhelming, too loud, too fast moving. Without the focus of a target, the blinkers that a mission put in place, he ducked his head and focused on his feet while he took a couple deep breaths.

Barton was a couple steps ahead when he looked up again. He was waiting but not impatient, expression understanding but not sympathetic, and for that he was a better companion than Tony or Steve, the only others Bucky’d left the tower with since he’d arrived.

“Coffee?”

“Sure,” Bucky said. It’d at least give him an adjustment period, somewhere off the street.

There was a chalkboard outside an alley. Life happens, it said. Coffee helps. The dim interior of the shop was relaxing and Bucky felt the knots in his shoulders ease a little. The guy behind the counter was skinny and short, some kinda twisting pattern shaved into his black hair, and he smiled like sunshine when he saw Barton.

“Hey Devonte,” Barton said. “Two coffees, please. Big as they come.”

The guy set to work, coaxing dark coffee out of the behemoth behind the counter, turning surreptitiously to get another look at Barton when he thought no one was looking. Bucky accidentally caught his eye and, ‘cos he was nothing if not an asshole, smirked a little and stepped in a little closer to Barton’s side.

“Two coffees,” Devonte said after another couple minutes, and his hangdog expression made Bucky feel a little bad, so he grabbed his wallet and left a healthy tip when he paid.

“This is supposed to be my treat,” Barton protested, and Bucky just grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him, shoving him towards the door.

Clint, his cup said, with a tiny black heart. Clint’s boyfriend was on Bucky’s, and he burned his mouth on a laugh.

Bucky had woken late enough that the sun was high in the sky and the subway was deserted, just the two of them in the carriage and an old Chinese guy reading the paper. Bucky scowled at his reflection in the dark window and thought about cutting his hair. Barton was slumped down in his seat, his feet crossed and resting against the pole in the center of the aisle. It should’ve been a precarious position but he was rock solid, swaying with the movement of the train. His eyes were closed and Bucky took a moment to study the lines of him, wondering what the hell had motivated him to drag Bucky out anyway. He wasn’t someone Bucky knew too well yet; mostly he had an impression of laughter – mostly at himself – and deadly fuckin’ accuracy with a bow and a cutting comment.

Barton’s blue eyes flickered open and caught Bucky’s, and he gave him a wide open smile that Bucky wasn’t sure he deserved.

When they got off the train in Queens, Bucky wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting; a petting zoo sure as hell wasn’t it.

 *

 The look on Barnes’ face when they walked into the zoo was something else, like he didn’t know whether to grin like a kid or punch Clint in the arm. Whatever the resulting expression was had an edge of vulnerability to it that tugged at Clint’s heart. He cleared his throat, uncertain and uncomfortable because of it, and headed off determinedly in the direction of the farm themed bit, ‘cos he had ambitions of feeding Barnes’ cap to a goat.

He wasn’t sure exactly why it was the zoo he’d picked. He’d looked at pictures of kids shrieking with laughter at pot-bellied pigs and it’d been pretty much the opposite of everything Bucky Barnes – and at the same time it carried a lot of the Bucky in Steve’s stories, big brother and big joker and patience of a saint.

They watched a lamb being bottle-fed, fed the goats – although not with Barnes’ hat – and Clint almost tripped when being chased by a swan because it was the first time he’d seen Bucky laugh, bright and selfless and loud, and the breath caught in his chest at the sound.

Apparently he’d had an ulterior motive. Apparently he was a fuckin’ idiot not to realize that.

Clint trailed Bucky around the rest of the zoo in a daze. He was with it enough to take a picture of Bucky with a rabbit in his lap, at least, and sent it to Steve as something that fell into the gap between an apology and an accusation. They finally left when Bucky’s stomach started growling too loudly for Clint to ignore; their trip through the gift shop meant Bucky carried a stuffed wolf with him onto the subway, its spherical face perfectly matching Bucky’s scowl.

The train this time was far busier and they stood close together, holding onto the same pole. Clint kept his face turned away, watching a young woman’s expressions as she reacted unselfconsciously to her book.

“You wanna – “ he said after a second, “we have this cook-out most nights at my building. Up on the roof. If you - ?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, and from the tone of his voice he was smiling, so it was a good goddamn thing that Clint was looking down. “Sounds good.”

 *

 Barton – Clint – lived in Bed-Stuy. His building was old and kinda falling apart, but it held inside it the signs of being well-loved. There were welcome mats outside doors, flowers in window boxes nodding in through windows, a kid’s tricycle trusted to the corner of a hallway. Clint’s apartment was big and split level, and filled with nothing much of anything. He went over to get burgers, brats and beers from the refrigerator and Bucky followed him and leaned against the counter, watching him move without anything like subtlety.

It’d been an interesting day. It’d been a day as far from being an Avenger as it could have been. It’d been the best day that Bucky could remember having recently, and a lot of it was to do with the guy in front of him who had slipped effortlessly somehow over the course of the day from Barton into Clint. And where Barton was safe territory, the Widow’s territory and therefore off-limits to any thoughts outside of ‘team’, Clint was something kinda new. Clint acted like an idiot and smiled like a kid. Clint picked up all the warmth of the sunshine and reflected it back in his voice. Clint was doing something dangerous to Bucky’s insides, and he was pretty sure he liked it.

So he circled the counter and snagged the beers from Clint’s hand, placing them carefully beside the refrigerator in a way that left him pressed up close. He watched with satisfaction as Clint swallowed, as his eyes turned dark.

“Thanks for today,” he said, voice low. “Thanks for thinkin’ of me.”

Clint smiled off-center, his eyes flicking away.

“Can’t seem to help it,” he said, embarrassed and honest and a little ashamed, and that couldn’t stand. Bucky lifted his hand to cup Clint’s cheek, rubbing his thumb across fair stubble.

“I’m good with that,” he said, and leaned in to press his lips to Clint’s dawning smile.

[amusewithaview]

Top 5 headcanons for "to find the happiness I seek"?

SPOILER ALERT - THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING.

1.  Margaret and Janet:  The second and third children born to Bucky/Darcy/Steve are fraternal twin Alpha girls who appear to have inherited Steve’s pre-Serum physique.  They’re plenty strong and fast, but they’re slender - almost tiny.  One of them got all of Steve’s FITE ME while the other got his artistic bent.  Both of them are fiercely protective of their oldest sibling.  (Played by Kristen Stewart and Teresa Palmer, respectively.)

2.  Jack:  Fourth born child is a boy, and the only Beta in the family.  Instead of being any kind of mitigating influence on some of his rowdier siblings, he’s the single biggest shit-stirrer and troublemaker.  Clint, Nat, and Sam are named his godparents.  (Played by Ryan Kelley.)

3.  Rebecca:  Youngest child is another girl, an Omega.  It’s pretty much a given that she will eventually inherit the mantle of Captain America, as well as the iconic Shield.  She toddles after her older sisters until she can run after them, and they try not to be too bitter when she surpasses them in height at the age of twelve.  Bucky dotes on her the way Steve dotes on their eldest, and for similar reasons.  (Played by Katee Sackhoff.)

4.  In spite of the jokes, the five kids never actually form a cohesive team.  Maggie and Janet end up off-world most of the time, either saving the Galaxy or trying to catalogue it.  Jack goes straight into SWORD (no surprises there), and Becky joins the Young Avengers as soon as she’s allowed.  They can all fight together, but only two of them are front-line specialists.  The rest prefer to be behind the scenes or at a distance.

5.  Darcy and Jane share their first grandchild.

[ao3feed-janefoster]

Heaven Sent

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/31KBhEb

by Lenni51074

Gorgeous Father Steve Rogers has asked you to develop an ad campaign to help bring more people into the Catholic faith. Being a confirmed atheist, you’d love to say no. But he’s a priest. An extremely handsome, sexy priest who uses the puppy-dog eyes to great advantage. God might strike you down if you say no.

Then you commence an online “relationship”, for want of a better word, with Cameron Klein, an infuriating newspaper columnist who gets under your skin like nobody else ever has before.

Just when you think life couldn’t get any more confusing, you meet the devastatingly good-looking Bucky Barnes, and your happily-single-and-ready-to-mingle life is thrown into chaos.

And you start to wonder if maybe God is involving you in one huge cosmic joke…

An Avengers-based reworking of the novel “Heaven” by Susi Rajah.

NOTE: I do not own the novel “Heaven” upon which this story is based, nor do I own any of the Marvel characters.

Words: 2227, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Avengers Book Rewrites

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Cameron Klein, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Scott Lang, Loki (Marvel), Nick Fury, Thor (Marvel) - Mentioned, Wanda Maximoff (mentioned), Pietro Maximoff (mentioned), James "Rhodey" Rhodes (mentioned), Bruce Banner (mentioned), Cooper Barton, Lila Barton, Nathaniel Pietro Barton, Justin Hammer, Matt Murdock (mentioned), Stephen Strange (mentioned), Peter Quill (mentioned), Maria Hill, Sam Wilson, Jane Foster (mentioned)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Cameron Klein/Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader, Natasha Romanoff & Reader, Clint Barton & Reader, Tony Stark & Reader, Peter Parker & Reader, Scott Lang & Reader, Ex-Loki & Reader

Additional Tags: Journalist Bucky Barnes, Priest Steve Rogers, BFF Natasha Romanoff, Detective Sam Wilson, boss tony stark, Intern Peter Parker, Scott Lang is a shit-stirrer, Ex-fiance Loki, Priest Nick Fury, Bartender Phil Coulson, Stan Lee Cameo, Reader is hopeless, I already know this so don't @ me, Reader Has Issues, Romantic Comedy, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton's kids are awesome, Reader needs a smack in the head, Reader doesn't know how to do feelings, Avengers Modern Day AU

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/31KBhEb