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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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previously on...

Chapter 5. We have stucky, we have stevesambucky friendship, we have a new place to live and strange being a good guy because tony definitely ranted at him. Also, we're beginning the creepy part of the plot. I have decided that sam will be one of the main platonic characters in this story because I love sam.

fun fact: I used to be a creepypasta writer! Going back to my roots here, hehe.

Things had stated changing, for better or worse, much sooner than I had been prepared for - but was anyone, ever, really ready for the next big step? Certainly not me - the view that greeted me after I'd finished my shift at Jeremy's was peculiar and unexpected, so I froze, eyebrows high at the two super-soldiers parked, once again, illegally, right in front of the entrance door.

"Hi, doll," Bucky was reclined against his boyfriend comfortably, his bike standing a pace behind Steve's, who nodded companionably, a sheepish grin on his face.

"G'day," I nodded, eyeing them warily. "I think I know where this is going..."

"No, no, nothing like that," both men frantically waved their hands around, Steve coming up close to approach me slowly. "You're not in trouble. I came out here to say thanks," giving a sappy look to the grouch that was his boyfriend, Steve reached into his pocket and handed me a slip of paper. "Just, uh..."

"Those are our phone numbers. Don't hesitate to give either one of us a call if someone bothers you," Bucky took over the stammering blonde, shaking his head at the soft blush that blossomed on the good captain's face. The brunette wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a shy smile of his own. "Or if you, I don't know, need someone to carry your groceries or something," he snorted. "The punk wouldn't leave it alone until we came out personally to thank you, the sap."

The laughter bubbled up from my chest as I grabbed and pocketed the paper, throughly amused and at the endearing gesture. "Sure, thanks."

"And, uh," Bucky's eyes briefly looked to the side. "We'd appreciate if you keep the status of our relationship to yourself for now. We're not, like, officially out yet."

I froze in place, mouth falling open. Surely they were aware that anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that they were much more than 'good, lifelong friends'. "No problem, guys. Lemme know if anyone gives you shit about it though, this place," I gestured to the café behind me, "is strictly paparazzi and homophobe-free."

Steve's grin grew even more genuine. "Yeah, we heard all about it from Tony and Stephen. Said 'twas the only place they go these days."

I wasn't aware of that. "It's the paps, isn't it?" I remembered Tony's remarks.

Bucky shook his head, the metals of his prosthetic arm whirring as it recalibrated. "Not only. The public hasn't had the best reaction to a man goin' out with a man," the brunette looked away to the side, where Steve's face had fallen considerably. "And Tony's an eccentric rich man. We're jus' two soldiers. The US Army won't be too happy if we... Came out," both men were crestfallen yet determined.

I had a hunch nothing would be able to separate the two - seeing as not even seventy-odd years and brainwashing and ice couldn't keep the captain and his sarge apart, I doubted that a few government weasels could successfully do the job. Even so, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to see them deny themselves something that technically was perfectly fine in the 21st century.

I chewed on my lip, gathering my wits. "I've clocked out, I can tell you this as a friend- as a person. You don't owe the army jack shit. They do not own you, you are your own person that they experimented their German knockoff steroids on. Respectfully, fuck that shit." I firmly stated my opinion, figuring that there should have been at least someone that told Steve that he is more than his star-spangled uniform and giant metal frisbee.

The blonde scrunched his eyebrows together, fingers gripping onto his belt until the knuckles went white, the hard line of his jaw set firm.

Bucky laugh took me by surprise. "Agreed, doll. I'm too old to be hiding in back alleys and shit," he clapped on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Although I'm happy enough with just not going to prison for bein' in love with this idiot."

"Jerk," Steve's responding pout was downright adorable now that I knew the circumstances surrounding their relationship.

Which wasn't exactly surprising. As a barista, I knew my fair share about my regulars' love lives, their jobs, their kids. The tea was almost always piping hot. "Bye, boys," I smiled at them warmly, throwing a glance at the time, adjusting the strap of my bag for comfort. "Stay outta trouble!"

Steve scrambled for his bike, having noticed my pointed gesture. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you back. There, I have a spare helmet," he gestured behind him. "I'll give you a ride."

"There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that death trap!" I shouted cheerfully, walking briskly towards my second job, hiding a laugh in the warmth of my scarf as two very offended motorcycle-loving gay fossils sped past me, making truly incredible amounts of noise. Good for them.

Odette was content to let me rummage around the bodega without showing herself more than necessary, taking her appointments and doing- well, witch stuff, I guess, only coming out to poke at the various jars for ingredients.

"Star, I have a proposition for you," right before closing time, Odette's voice filled out the store with its low drawl. "A good friend of mine owns an apartment building, not far from here actually, and one tenant recently moved out. It's a safe space for those who are different," she enunciated the last word, fixing it with a pointed stare. "She's not overly fond of total strangers coming to live there. The rent is reduced and the apartment itself is slightly bigger and more fashionable than yours..."

"Where's the catch?" I found myself interrupting her. I wouldn't lie: the reduced rent and increased size of the apartment did interest me, as well as the probability of a kinder, more involved landlord. My current one was - not the best, but such was life in the NYC.

"There are a few rules to follow, rules that might seem strange at first but they'll make sense in time. And your neighbors might be also a little... Unusual," Odette carefully studied my face for any signs of displeasure.

I sighed.

And then I sighed some more as I was signing my new lease in a few days' time, having spoken with Porter, my new landlord, and his boyfriend who had claws and fangs- after so much time spent around Odette's, I didn't even blink. The couple liked me enough to extend a secure but flexible offer and some furniture to choose from the attic where they kept the spares.

I quite liked the large, vintage couch I placed next to the wide bow windows in the living room. The floors were hardboard and well-kept, the walls a nice, homely shade of green and Porter didn't mind any new holes in them that might arise from hanging up decorations. I scheduled a thrift crawl at the next possible opportunity, happy with the "good employee" bonus Odette had given me after I sealed the deal.

My stuff was boxed up, a sleepless night and a call to a begrudging Jeremy to have a couple of days off to move; I was, thankfully, not late on my schedule and all that I had left was to rent a car to move the boxes of my things and the few pieces of furniture I had decided to keep - my haul in Porter's attic had been incredibly rewarding and my new apartment had all the basics to make it look like a warm, inviting bohemian home in a while.

My phone rang suddenly, startling interruption to the romcom I was watching as I ate my last lunch in my old apartment. "Hello?" I answered the number without looking.

"Hi, doll," Bucky's voice rang out cheerful. "A little witch told me you were moving. I thought you might need a hand?"

I blanked momentarily, the thought of enlisting two very busy super-soldiers to haul ten boxes and two endtables worth of stuff not having crossed my mind at all. "Is this the moment when you stop by my house just to unattach and put your prosthetic arm somewhere and leave?" I asked, hearing distinctive snickering - several more people were with him.

The cheer in his voice blossomed into a full belly laugh. "You're funny," he teased me. "And thanks for the idea. But no, I have a room full of men that have nothing better to do but get on my nerves. Might as well make 'em useful," his accented drawl thickened the more we spoke. Muted cheers rang out in the background.

"Uh, sure," who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I rattled off my address and warned them I didn't have a car, after which Bucky assured me it will be taken care of. The last remaining knick-knacks packed away, I went down to take out the trash, and returned to four people standing in front of my apartment building, all except one unrecognisable in their civilian clothes. "Hello," I waved at them, side-eyeing the tallest, grumpiest man of the bunch.

Stephen Strange was there, looking around curiously, hands in the pockets of his plain grey hoodie. I had already forgotten how normal he looked without his robes, and, frankly speaking, I preferred him like that. His title and the attire that came with it were quite intimidating.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned man who I recognised to be the Falcon, raised his hand. I had not met him yet. "I'm Sam, Sam Wilson. You must be the Star we're helping?" His quick once-over and the tilt to his lips; the ease with which he flirted had me brandishing smirks of my own. I led them all upstairs, Stephen's silence being just so loud. Sam, however, had no such reservations. "So, you're a witch, right?" Wow, subtlety was his middle name.

"Yes, I'll show you my broomstick," I deadpanned, wiggling my eyebrows at him with a grim look.

"Woah woah," Sam raised his hands as the three men behind us snickered loudly. "What happened to 'how are you? let's have dinner sometime'?"

I did my best imitation of an evil cackle as I let them through my front door. The four newcomers looked around my nearly empty apartment with muted interest before zeroing in on the pile of things in the corner: a few pieces of furniture and nearly taped boxes. Should be a walk in the park for four men.

A hand on my arm pulled me from the stupor of observing Sam, Bucky and Steve act like a well-oiled trio, bantering and teasing each other as they discussed how to best move the things.

"Look," Stephen Strange had all the appearance of a chastised puppy. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that day. I was out of line," the low notes in his voice made the appearance of the apology being somewhat reluctant. Tony probably put him to it after our little burger run.

Irregardless, I wasn't looking to make any enemies. "Me too, I was under stress - not that I'm using it as an excuse," to give where it's due, I nodded at the sorcerer, immediately awestruck by the easy, boyish smile that stretched on his lips.

"You are strong," he added. "If you would like to learn our ways, we would welcome you." There was a spark in his eyes, something belonging to man that respected and collected knowledge. My own respect for him grew immensely just from that one thing.

"I'll think about it," I offered amicably, however, I still leaned heavily towards a negative answer to that particular proposition. I liked my current way of life.

Strange's grin made a momentary second appearance, until Sam's voice rang loudly: "Fire in the hole, Wizard-man," causing the former to groan loudly and look at me.

"Think about your new place for a second," he spoke, briefly touching out fingertips. As soon as that was over, a golden circle with my new living room on the other side of it appeared quietly, Strange's hands immediately going back into his pockets after that. I sighed and pointed the men into it, stepping in a second after. The sorcerer wasn't far behind. "You could learn that, too, you know," he added wryly, having seen my look of mild envy directed at him.

"I think I'll be good with having the 'pissed off the sorcerer Supreme and lived' pass for now," I retorted with an eyeroll, turning around to stare him down.

He had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, at least. "I'm not like my predecessor," his words were chosen carefully. "And, to be honest, I have no clue as to why your... Boss is so hostile towards me- us," Strange looked around the room before unceremoniously beelining for the couch and plopping down on it.

"Not to be a gossip," I started, slightly intrigued. "But Odette and some lady she called ancient had mad beef," I slipped into casual language easily, trying to recall the details of Odette's, quite often jumbled, stories. "Sounded almost like territorial disputes," I shrugged. "And the apprentices Odette took on before me found themselves in all kinds of compromising situations," I chewed on my lip. "Like the Arctic."

Strange rubbed his face with a noisy groan, large hands doing nothing to mask the resignation and slight embarrassment.

I focused on the thin, red scars on his hands - they had to have been something serious, the way slight tremors betrayed the deteriorating state of the nerves in his fingers. I frowned, quickly averting my gaze before he could catch me ogling him. The fact thag Stephen kept his hands in his pockets or covered by gloves at all times didn't go over my head.

He muttered something to himself, something that sounded like he was often forced to clean up his predecessor's mess. "I see," was the only thing he'd offered me, looking slightly pitiful and apologetic.

"Well," I started, noting the last of my stuff was about to be in its rightful place, "as long as you don't toss me into the ocean, I think we can coexist peacefully."

"Tony would kill me if I'd tried," Stephen groused.

"Probably," I agreed. "Considering the fact he hit on me, for you, it would make one hell of a lover's quarrel," my hand pointed towards the kitchen as Steve and Sam carried in the boxes aptly labeled "kitchen", looking around a place to put them down.

"Tony did what now?" Stephen's tone dropped, a wry smirk decorating his lips as he eyed me through his lashes.

"Don't ask me," I raised my palms, feeling my eyes widen. "He's chaos personified and Satan only knows what he's got on his mind."

That squeezed a laugh out of the tall man, followed by a fond, sappy smile as he looked out of my large, panoramic window, probably thinking of Tony himself. There was no doubt, Stephen Strange was utterly and throughly head over heels in love with Tony Stark. Good for them, good for them.

"A-and that's it," Bucky walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel I'd provided them earlier. "I took some liberties and assembled the furniture, Steve is stacking the dishes as we speak," the brunette noisily plopped down next to me, arm carelessly thrown behind me on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um," I stammered, unused to such random gestures of kindness. "Thanks a lot, you saved me a day's worth of time and a backache," I smiled, scooting over to make some room for Sam.

"No problem, not like we had anything better to do than argue which part of the Lord of the Rings is the best," Wilson rolled his eyes, elbowing Bucky none-too-gently.

Bucky elbowed back, thus starting a horsing war between the two, causing me to scoot closer to Stephen as I attempted to avoid any flailing limbs; the sorcerer and I shared an identical, perplexed sigh as to how two grown men could easily bait each other into such juvenile behaviour.

Whatever. It was kind of endearing.

Steve emerged from the kitchen dusty but smiling, having heard the commotion, and quickly herded his guys into a semblance of decent behaviour before all of three of them left, leaving me and Stephen to go back to my old apartment and give the keys to it to the guard. That was done, too, and a portal from an alley behind my old building straight into my living room had me and Strange awkwardly hovering, saying out goodbyes and waving to each other as the golden circle rapidly shrunk in size and disappeared, golden sparks scattering across my living room carpet for a short second before they fizzled out, too.

I used the brief moment of respite to find the small piece of paper containing the rules Porter had insisted I read and take seriously; figuring it might be a good idea to give them a read before beginning to unpack, I popped open a bottle of soda, holding the itemized list written in neat cursive to my face.

The further I read, the further my eyebrows rose:

"1. Keep your door locked at all times.

2. If a person knocks on your door claiming to be the mail man, do not open the door under any circumstances. You are free to ignore the knocking - it only lasts a minute or so. After the person has left, you may open the door and check for any packages.

3. If Samantha from 3B visits you and asks you to babysit, you may do so at your personal discretion. Her twins are a handful and their daily habits are not for the ones with a weak stomach, however, they mean nothin ill and will not harm you in any way.

4. Do not use the elevator between the hours of 1 and 4 AM.

5. There are no apartments under number "7". If someone claiming to be from those apartments knocks on your door and requests entry, come up with a polite excuse to decline and send me a text message. I will take care of it.

6. There is no garden on the premises of this building. If a man approaches you, claiming to be a gardener, don't interact with him and simply walk away. He will leave you alone.

7. You may meet a girl in a polka-dot dress playing in the hallways or in the stairwell. This is Lucy. Always be polite to Lucy - you won't like what will happen if you're rude to her. She does not talk but she knows limited ASL and may request to visit you. Allow her in ONLY if you have fresh meat in your fridge (beef or mutton, preferably bloody). You might want to avoid seeing her eat, however, it might be very beneficial to make friends with Lucy. She knows a lot of things.

8. If, when taking the stairs, you encounter inconsistent numeration of the floors, such as floor 2 followed by floor 5 and etc, simply walk a flight back. It will sort itself out. The building is old and sometimes it gets confused.

Important notice: these rules apply to your guests as well. Please make sure to introduce and educate them on these matters. We will help as much as we can should a situation arise but ultimately, there are fates far worse than an untimely, however swift, death.

- Porter and Lance."

A slow, creeping dread began to gnaw at my nape, curling on like a cold snake deep in chest. As if laughing at me, the warm, welcoming embrace of the green walls and the toothy, wide smiles my landlords had given me encouraged my recently found sense of adventure, all of it mixing into a cacophony of exhilaration and unease, equally steadily driving my running brain insane.

I sighed again, immediately going to the box containing my altar and the rest of the protective items. So much for peace.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #ironstrange x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x y/n #Stephen Strange x you #tony stark x you

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arrow-guy · 4 years

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Broken Flock (8/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Okay, I can say, for sure, that this chapter is the end of Pain Pain Pain. Chapter nine will see things start to actually look up and head towards getting better. However, this chapter still does touch on some serious themes that could potentially trigger some readers, so please read at your own discretion.

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Warnings: Anxiety, needles, canon typical violence, general angst

Part 7

“There’s no news,” Steve says.

“Then we need to go further,” Bucky insists. “We don’t know who these people are. We don’t know how they operate and we don’t know where they’d go.”

“I know, Buck, we’re doing what we can with what we’ve got, but we can’t just rush into this without a plan.”

“There’s no proper procedure for this, Steve! The option is to go out, and look. That is the plan. She didn’t disappear on a busy street corner, she was shot down in the middle of the fucking woods and dragged away. If we don’t rush into it, she could be dead by the time we find her.” Bucky curls his hands into tight fists on the table. “She’s already been missing for three days. If we don’t do something fast…”

Steve nods. “I know.”

“I’m gonna pull Stark in on this.”

“Buck-”

“He’ll at least have recent satellite footage we can use.” He shoves back from the table and heads for the door.

“Don’t put this on Tony,” Steve says. “He’s already made himself sick worrying about her.”

“I don’t know what else to do here, Steve. Either we put a team together and get our asses in gear, or I’m going to start tearing the countryside apart till I find her.”

Steve sighs. “Fine. You and Clint start your search. I’ll work with Nat and Sam on this end and we’ll do what we can to help.”

Bucky pauses and looks Steve over. “You sure?”

“Yeah. You have an idea of where to start, so you should go with that. We’ll get everything sorted out here and keep you updated.”

Bucky nods. “I’ll be in touch.”

He breezes out of the room, immediately in search of Clint. Steve sighs and calls Natasha and Sam to meet him.

Clint is with Natasha when Bucky finds him. He places his hand on Clint’s shoulder to get his attention and Natasha excuses herself from the room.

“What is it?” Clint asks.

“We’ve got the green light to start looking for her.”

Clint shoots up from the couch. “Really?”

Bucky nods. “Steve almost didn’t agree.”

“You threatened him with Tony, didn’t you.”

“Yes.”

Clint almost laughs, but clamps his hand over his mouth. His hand moves to the back of Bucky’s neck and he presses their foreheads together.

“We’re gonna get her back, Buck.”

“I know.” Bucky wraps his arms around Clint. “We should leave soon.”

“Yeah,” Clint sighs. “Come on. Let’s get the hell outta here.”

“They’ll find me,” I whisper to myself. “I left a note. They’ll find me.”

With my head between my knees, I close myself in my wings. I rock back and forth, trying to find some kind of comfort in myself. I don’t have my shoes anymore and my pant legs are little more than shreds at this point. The jacket I wore when I first arrived is long gone and my shirt was traded out for a thin tank top a long time ago, leaving me with little more than my own down to keep myself warm.

I don’t know where I am or how long I’ve been here, but I do know that Clint and Bucky would never leave me here to rot. Just thinking about how worried they must be brings tears to my eyes. Guilt settles in my stomach and I swipe my tears away before they fall. Crying isn’t going to get me anywhere, and it’ll definitely just leave me more dehydrated and sore than I already am.

The door slams open and I jerk my head up, but hold my wings tighter around me. Through gaps in my feathers, I can see their shadow as they move through the barn. I watch as they pace around the space in front of me. They stop abruptly and I clamp one hand over my mouth to muffle my gasp when they approach me. They grab the chain attached to the manacles around my ankles and I silently beg them to drop it. They take several steps forward with the chain in their hand and they chuckle when they see me curl around myself even further.

Finally, they drop the chain and stop just in front of me. I bite down on my fist in an attempt to stay as quiet as possible.

“Arm.” I don’t say anything or move, and they kick me, laughing when they hear me wince. “I said arm, you dumb fucking bird.”

I slowly extend my right arm between my wings and they grab my wrist and yank me forward. I fall forward onto my knees and catch myself with my left hand. I refuse to look up at them, knowing that they’ll only try to hurt me further.

I’ve realized, in the time that I’ve been here, that they need me alive and in one piece for their tests, but they don’t necessarily care about hurting me. This man is no exception.

“Y’know,” he says idly. “I can’t figure out why they care about keeping you alive. They never did with the others. Went through the first ones like wildfire.”

He jabs a needle into my arm and I turn my face away to avoid the sight of my own blood. He doesn’t do anything to hurt me further, but I still flinch when he pulls the needle out. I shiver and clutch my arm to my chest when he lets go and I see his shadow shake its head.

“They think you’re somethin’ special, but I don’t see it. You look just like every other bird freak that’s been through here. Only difference is that you’re alive and awake.” He crouches down and tips my head up with a finger under my chin. I can see the detachment from what he’s doing in his face, which makes my anxiety spike. “You haven’t been nearly as interesting as the rest, though. Don’t struggle as much. Why?”

“I don’t know,” I croak out.

“Huh.” He grabs my jaw and tips my head from one side to another. “They’ll take you apart, one little bit at a time, till there’s nothing left. You know that, right?”

“Oh.”

“Mmm, and I’ll be there to see it, too. Might even get to help out a little.” His grip on my jaw tightens and I whimper. “I look forward to it.”

I can't stop myself from asking, "Why?"

"You're so innocent and scared." He squeezes my cheeks and his face morphs into something crazed and animalistic. "That little doe eyed look is exactly why."

I don’t say anything and the light in his eyes seems to dim as he loses interest. He shoves me to the side and gestures for someone at the door before he stands up and walks off. Someone new shuffles in and crouches in the same place as the man before. They reach out to my arm and I jerk away from them, only succeeding in cracking my head against the wall. They sigh, shuffle closer, and press two fingers to my pulse. They take their count and then grab at my arm again, and their fingers wrap around my wrist.

“You’re ice cold,” they say.

“I sleep in a fucking drafty ass barn, of course I’m cold,” I mutter.

They hum and squeeze my wrist momentarily before standing and dropping a paper bag at their feet.

“Get some rest,” they say. “You’ll need it.”

They leave and I wait till the door closes to reach out to the bag. Inside, I find a chunk of bread, a couple of slices of cheese, a small apple, and a bottle of water. I nearly ball up the bag and chuck it across the barn, but my stomach growls. I sigh and reach into the bag and take out each item, placing the bread, apple, and cheese in my lap. I set the water on the floor and tear the bag open to make a sort of placemat. I reorganize the food on the torn up bag and stare at it, momentarily wondering why the hell I even set it up like this.

I shake my head and eat what little food I’ve been given.

“Found anything?”

“Some locals have been shooed off their land recently,” Clint says. “They saw some weird shit going down a few weeks back and now they’re being asked to leave.”

“I think they said someone offered to buy their plots to try and get them to leave,” Bucky adds.

“Weird,” Sam says. “They got any idea where these people are holed up?”

“Not from what we can tell,” Clint sighs. “I think they’re too freaked out to try and look into it.”

“Which is understandable, considering the firepower some of these goons apparently have,” Bucky shakes his head. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to just find one guy.”

“I know, Buck.”

“I might be able to help with that.”

“How?”

“We’ve been cleared for aerial recon. I’ll be flying out around the area you’re in later today. See if there’s anything I can find that you can’t see on the ground.”

“How long have you been working on this?” Bucky asks.

“I put in a request the day after you talked to Steve. Had a helluva time trying to get Ross to agree, but Stark suggested that there’d be no way anyone would ever sign the accords if he let one of their own disappear without a trace.”

“Thank him for us,” Clint says.

“Will do.”

Anxious to get the search underway, Bucky asks, “How soon can you get out here?”

“I’ll be there in about an hour.”

“Great, we’ll go back over what we’ve got and send you anything useful. Has Natasha found anything since she last called?”

“Not much, but I’ll let her know you could use whatever she’s got.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. See you guys soon.”

“See you.”

Sam hangs up and Bucky leans back in his seat.

“That’s good news,” Clint says. “We’ll be able to cover more ground now. Find her faster.”

Bucky nods absently. “It’s been almost a week.”

“I know.” Clint takes Bucky’s hand. “We’ll find her. She’s strong, we’ll-” his voice breaks and he takes a deep breath. “We’ll get her back.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up into a smile. “You keep saying that.”

“Because we will.”

“Say it enough times, and it’ll come true, right?”

Clint nods. “Exactly. She’s probably doing her best for us. We have to be strong for her too.”

“I know.” Bucky takes a deep breath and slowly releases it. “We’ll find her.”

“We will.” Clint kisses the back of Bucky’s hand. “We absolutely will.”

“Yeah, this place looks real sketchy.”

“Explain,” Bucky says.

“The barn is old and rickety, probably a little too close to falling down to keep any kind of livestock in. There’s a building that’s attached though, and it’s newer.”

“Can you get a closer look?”

“Not a chance. Shit’s on lock-down. At least twenty guys around the perimeter, and who knows what else inside.”

Bucky sighs and lays back in the grass. “We’ve been watching this dump for two days. We’re pretty fuckin sure she’s in there. Can we please just rush in and start shooting?”

“Not yet,” Clint says.

“Please, Clint.”

“Give it a day, man,” Sam says. “Let them get a little restless and see what they do. They might just bring (Y/N) to us.”

“It’d give us time to get Steve and Nat up here,” Clint adds. “Extra hands on this would make it easier for us to focus on getting to (Y/N) instead of avoiding getting shot.”

“Fine. But only because we could use the help.”

“I’ll do another lap and then I’m headed back to the compound. I’ll call you guys when we’ve got a plan of attack.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Clint says. “We’ll talk to you soon.”

They hang up and Bucky reaches out for Clint’s hand. Clint laces their fingers and sighs softly.

“We’re so close,” Bucky mutters.

“I know. She’s less than a mile away now.” Clint’s gaze is distant.

Bucky recognizes Clint closing himself off, preparing for the worst. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“You’re shutting down.” Bucky sighs and squeezes Clint’s hand. “She’s not dead.”

“Buck…”

“If she were, they wouldn’t need so many guards.”

“I know, I’m just… I’m just worried.”

“I know.”

Clint flops down beside him and rolls onto his side. “You’re not supposed to be the optimist here.”

“Yeah well, it’s not fun to be pessimistic if we’re both dragging each other down.” Bucky looks over at Clint and offers a small smile. “We’re close. We’ll get her back. There’s no other option.”

“Did you hear what Todd was saying earlier?”

"What're you talking about, man?"

"He said scanners picked up on two bodies a little over a mile away."

"No shit?"

"Yeah, and there was something buzzing by the barn yesterday and today. Said boss lady's real freaked out."

"You think it could be the Avengers?"

The first man laughs. "Why the hell would the Avengers be interested in us? It's not like we've done anything to them."

"I dunno, man. What about this chick?"

"What about her?"

"I think she was with the Avengers for a while. Like I think I saw her on TV at one point."

"Nah, man, that was the Falcon. There's only one Avenger with wings and it's a dude in a suit. We're home free."

“I dunno, man… I got a bad feeling about that.”

“Look, it’s two guys. What can they do against all of us?”

The second man laughs hesitantly. “I guess you’re right.”

I cough into my elbow and freeze when their eyes snap to me. I curl into myself, hoping that they’ll just ignore me and go back to their conversation.

“You got something to add, freak?” the first man asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

He squints at me. “You think someone’s looking for you?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur.

“How the fuck do you not know?”

Anger flares in my stomach. “I don’t know what time it is most of the time. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. So forgive me if I don’t know jack fuckin shit about whatever it is you two are bickering about in your little doorway over there.”

The first man squinted at me and gestured to his friend. “Get the boss.”

“Which one?”

“Both of ‘em.”

“Oh shit.”

The second man ran off in search of the bosses. I can only assume the first man meant the Doctor and her right hand man. I think I’d be worried, if I didn’t know that the Doctor wants me alive for whatever other tests she’s got planned. Besides that, my mind is buzzing with what the two men were talking about. Just the idea of Clint and Bucky knowing where I am fills me with just a little hope.

The second man returns, flanked by three burly guards, followed by the Doctor and her right hand man. The two men from before and the guards wrestle me up from the floor and I do what I can to push back against them. My legs are still shackled to the floor, so I can't get far, but I manage to punch one of the guards in the eye. He stumbles back, clutching his face.

"Don't fucking touch me," I hiss.

The Doctor’s right hand steps up and slaps me across the face. My head snaps to the side and heat blooms in my cheek. The guard I punched kicks me in the stomach, forcing the air from my lungs. I hang in the grip of my captors and they force me onto my knees. I glance up to find the Doctor leaning over me, holding something out to her right hand. He forces my wings flat against my back and he works with the Doctor to belt them down.

“Chain her up,” the Doctor instructs. “Don’t touch her wings, and don’t break any bones.”

She’s answered with a chorus of “Yes, ma’am.” and she walks out of the barn.

“What do we do, boss?” the first man asks.

The right hand tuts. “You hit her, of course, you empty headed morons.”

“Don’t be a puss about it,” I add. I’m going to regret egging them on, but there’s only so much they can do to me, and Clint and Bucky are so close. “Really make it count.”

“Oh, believe me, bird girl,” the right hand says. “We will.”

-----------

Part 9

Honestly, I do not like hurting characters, and I promise we’re nearly at the end of the pain. It’s totally cool if anyone’s still kind of upset with me lmao

As always, I’d love to hear what you guys think, so please comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask!

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This fic:

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#winterhawkxreader #readerxwinterhawk #winterhawk x reader #reader x winterhawk #bucky barnesxreader #readerxbucky barnes #clint bartonxreader #readerxclint barton #bucky barnes #clint barton #steve rogers #reader insert marvel fic

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css1992 · 5 years

Text

If you let me

Starker, 12k+ words

Warnings: explicit, nff, 18+, daddy kink, daddy issues, age gap (duh), brief mentions of non-con (not between main pairing), unhealthy coping mechanisms. No power AU.

The thing Peter liked about older men was that they were easy to figure out, no games necessary. They were usually after one of two things: a distraction from a midlife crisis or an affair. If it were a midlife crisis, they wanted adventure, but it had to be a dirty little secret – after all, they were raised in different times, their family and friends expected them to fit certain boxes. These men liked pretty, young things to make eyes at them, play coy, pretend to be naive and sweet and virginal. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t usually do this, am I doing it right?” Peter figured it made them feel young, powerful, strong, so he played along.

The ones looking for an affair were pretty amusing, too, they usually had a good family, a beautiful wife, cute kids, but they wanted more. Something fun, and new, and crazy, without risking what they had. Usually, this happened to men who never got to experiment in their youth – again, different times. So they got married, had children, worked at boring jobs, barbecued on Sundays and fucked guys like Peter on Monday after work, or Tuesday before gym, or Wednesday after their son’s little league game.

It was cool with Peter either way, he didn’t want commitment, but he did want a few things. A warm, strong body to hold him for a couple of hours; a thick, hard cock to fill him up good, and that sense of protection and safeness that came from being with an older man. The endearments that inevitably fell from their lips, the praises, the gentleness of their touch, the way they grabbed him by the nape of his neck with a warm hand and called him boy. Good boy. Baby boy. With no strings attached, they had reputations to keep and families to get back to at the end of the night, which was perfect.

Peter had tried dating younger guys, but it just didn’t do it for him. They were often too eager, too fast, too rough. Just too young, in general. Not that older men couldn’t be too much, too, Peter learned it the hard way, not all of them knew how to take no for an answer; not all of them were willing to stop if he asked. It was okay, though, because even the ones who didn’t stop at his request were usually nice to him afterwards, so – no harm, no foul.

The man looking back at him from across the room seemed like a good one. He knew he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but he was gorgeous. Possibly the most handsome man Peter had ever seen in his short life. He must be well into his forties, if the wrinkles around his eyes and the graying hair at his temples were anything to go by, but his face was beautiful and yet so masculine. His eyes were kind-looking, bright and brown, with long eyelashes, framed by dark and thick eyebrows. His nose was thin and straight, almost aristocratic, but round at the tip, and he had a strong jawline and a well-groomed goatee, that framed the fullest, most kissable lips a man his age should be allowed to have.

He approached Peter with his drink, probably whiskey, judging by the color, and the younger man clutched his glass, smiling coyly when the gorgeous man finally stopped by his side, looking at him intently.

“What’s a sweet boy like you doing all alone in this terrible place?” He had a charming smile that lighted up his whole face, it was almost blinding. Peter refrained from telling him it wasn’t a terrible place, otherwise such a distinct man like himself wouldn’t be there. It was a fancy, five-star hotel bar, Peter obviously couldn’t afford anything there, not even a glass of water, but he didn’t need to, every time he was there someone bought him a drink.

“I’m not alone anymore,” he smiled charmingly, sucking the colorful straw of his sugary drink. He hated it, but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the drink had been sent to him by a shy gentleman sitting a few seats away from him. “And I’m not that sweet.”

“Is that so?” The older man seemed amused by Peter’s boldness, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He gave him a shameless once over, eyes traveling from head to toe, burning holes in the boy’s clothes, but he seemed more than happy with what he saw. “Could have fooled me.”

“I’m Peter.” He offered his hand and the older man took it carefully, like a gentleman, and kissed his knuckles softly. Peter shook his head with amusement, more than aware of all the tricks a guy would pull to take a boy like him to bed. Little did he know, he already had Peter in the bag, no games needed.

“It’s a pleasure, Peter. I’m Tony.” He held his hand for a little longer than necessary, then let it go, sipping his whiskey slowly, eyes fixed on Peter’s face. “You looked so lonely here, all by yourself, thought I’d keep you company.”

“My hero.” The younger man grinned, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, under Tony’s intense gaze. “Did you come by yourself as well?”

“I never come by myself, sweetie.” He wiggled his eyebrows and if it were anyone else, Peter would probably have rolled his eyebrows and walked away, but that man was so magnetic he actually giggled at the lame joke. “I’m staying here for a couple of days, came from California for a boring meeting with some boring people, and I was just heading back upstairs when I saw you needed rescuing. Can I buy you another drink?” He gestured to Peter’s nearly empty glass and the young man nodded with a smile.

“If you insist.” Tony gestured to the bartender and he came over so quickly Peter thought he might trip over his own feet, which was odd, because he was basically scowling at at pretty much everyone at the bar all night.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” The name sounded familiar, Peter was sure he had heard it before somewhere, and not that long ago, but he couldn’t place it.

“Another one of whatever he’s having. Put it on my tab.” Peter wanted to tell him that he didn’t want that pink, frilly drink, he could really use a beer, but again – gift horse.

“What was your meeting about, Mr. Stark?” He asked, cocking his head to the side, once the bartender hurried away to make his drink, and the older man narrowed his eyes slightly.

“It’s Tony, sweetheart.” He winked, downing the rest of his whiskey. He waved his empty glass at the bartender and he quickly nodded in understanding. “And what is everything ever about? Money, of course.” He shrugged. “You see, I’m plotting world domination, you need cash for that.”

“So I’ve heard.” He smiled, amused. His eyes drifted to the man’s hands when he accepted a new tumbler filled with golden liquid from the bartender, and Peter noticed that there were no rings on his fingers. “What’s your big plan to take over the world, Tony?”

“Clean energy.” The older man had a smart glint in his eyes when he answered, like he was satisfied with himself.

“Nice. Tell me more.” Peter wouldn’t usually take this long to drag a man to bed, but Tony seemed interesting and he was nice to look at, so he indulged himself a little bit. Besides, the bartender had just placed a fresh drink in front of him, he couldn’t let that go to waste.

“Well, it’s a little complicated, sweetheart.” Peter rolled his eyes, disappointed, but not surprised. Men like Tony would usually take one look at him and assume he was just a dumb, horny bimbo who couldn’t keep up with their wit.

“Why don’t you give it a try, sweetheart.” He mocked, seeing an amused smile take over Tony’s face, then he nodded.

“Fair enough.” He took a deep breath, scrunching his face up in thought for a few seconds. “Let’s see, do you know what a fusion reactor is, in theory? What it does?” He asked, and Peter nodded easily, sipping his drink. Tony looked doubtful, but went on anyway. “Well, so I created an affordable, compact fusion reactor that’s able to power all of New York City for a month with just a small amount of fuel.”

“That’s very impressive, assuming this is true. I suppose you’re using deuterium and tritium as fuel? Or just deuterium? How do you even meet the Lawson criterion? You’d have to heat the fuel to tens of millions of degrees, how do you produce enough energy for it to be self-sustained?” As the words left his lips, Tony’s eyes grew comically wide and Peter couldn’t avoid a chuckle.

“Who are you? Do you work for Hammer or something?” He took a step back, eyeing Peter suspiciously, so the younger man quickly shook his head.

“I’m just a waiter, Tony.” The older man continued to stare at him as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, or maybe he was waiting for Peter to confess that he was a corporate spy. Well, he couldn’t care less about any of that, he just wanted to get laid, so. “You don’t have to tell me how you did it, I was just curious.”

“Okay...” He said, slowly, approaching Peter again, carefully. He searched his face for a few seconds, then shrugged. “I’ll bite.” An amused smile stretched over his face. “It’s not like it’s a secret anymore, I did publish a paper on this subject just last week. Anyway, I’m using hydrogen isotopes with palladium, which means –“

“Cold nuclear fusion.” Peter raised his eyebrows, a little shocked, and the man seemed just as shocked by the fact the Peter understood what he said. “Are you telling me you cracked cold nuclear fusion? Scratch that, are you telling me you cracked nuclear fusion as a viable energy source at all?” He asked, still a little incredulous, but the older man looked really proud of himself, so maybe he was telling the truth.

“If you give me your e-mail address, I can send you the paper I wrote on that.” He sipped his drink again, giving Peter another once over, more carefully this time around. “I’ve gotta admit, I’m impressed, kid. I came here fully expecting to talk to an airheaded, slightly tipsy twink. I was planning to charm you with a few smart words and talk about world domination.” Tony’s smile was genuine and it was beautiful. He seemed so relaxed when he smiled, and so much younger.

“Is that what you like?” Peter cocked his head with a raised brow and a teasing smile, and Tony shrugged, still grinning.

“Sometimes, yeah.” He got a little closer and Peter observed with interest as he dragged his eyes lazily all over his body, making his skin tingle with anticipation. “Not tonight, though.”

Peter lay on the bed feeling a little dizzy and short-breathed, already fully naked – when had that happened? - as he watched the older man unbuttoning his crisp white, expensive-looking shirt, revealing a broad chest spattered with soft hairs, muscular abs and strong biceps. Peter was still trying to figure out what hit him when he entered that hotel room, Tony was like a force of nature the way he attacked his lips, hands roaming freely all over his body, like he owned him, like Peter belonged to him. It was thrilling and intoxicating and the young man was still dizzy, trying to wrap his head around what was going on, because that man could not be real.

He sure felt real, though, when his goatee prickled his sensitive neck, as those sexy lips left a wet trail of kisses across his jawline, then down his throat. Peter moaned helplessly, carding his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp with short nails, biting his lips and trying not to make a fool of himself by moaning like a bitch in heat, which was exactly how he felt right then and there.

His mouth traveled down to his collarbones, biting across them with great care and the right amount of pressure to leave bruises, but not too many, licking the sore skin right after as if to soothe it. The older man stuck a clothed leg between Peter’s and he humped against it unashamedly, eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling Tony’s lips stretch in a smile against his skin.

“So needy...” He whispered hoarsely, before attacking one of his nipples, sucking it into his mouth, torturing the little bud sweetly by holding it between his teeth as he licked it with the rough pad of his tongue. Peter threw his head back in ecstasy, hips bucking up to meet Tony’s leg. His nipples were so sensitive, it was the easiest way to get him off quickly, and it was like the older man knew that, like he knew everything about Peter’s body, he played him like a violin. “Such a pretty boy.” He dragged his lips to his other nipple, his goatee scratching the sensitive skin of his chest. He’d have beard burns all over his come morning, but he couldn’t care less. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

“Fuck.” Peter loved it when they said it first. He always felt awkward bringing it up, always felt weird asking to call someone daddy, or even just saying it out of the blue. Not that he ever received a bad reaction, but he was just afraid one of these days someone might not like it so much. “Fuck, daddy, your mouth feels so good,” he cried, writhing on the bed and rutting against the older man’s leg. His cock was impossibly hard and leaking so much precum he was worried he’d ruin Tony’s very expensive-looking pants, but not worried enough to stop. He could feel the older man’s hard-on pressing against his thigh and his mouth filled with saliva just thinking about what it looked like, how good it would taste on his tongue – fuck.

Tony kept alternating between his nipples, sucking and biting them until they almost hurt from how sensitive they became – swollen and red from the abuse. Sensing it, the older man made his way down his abs, dragging his teeth and tongue all over his skin and quivering muscles, until Peter was no longer able to rub against his leg, but it didn’t stop him from trying. The older man stopped when he reached his cock and Peter blushed a little. He was always a little self-conscious about that part of him, he knew he was a little on the small side, but Tony didn’t seem to mind at all.

“You have such a pretty cock, baby, so hard already, you’re leaking all over, making such a mess.” His hot breath on Peter’s sensitive, flushed skin made him shiver, body trembling with anticipation, as he tried to breathe deeply to avoid a disaster. “Daddy’s gonna take care of it now, ok? You just sit back and relax.”

He swallowed Peter’s whole cock in one go and the younger man went to heaven and back in a matter of seconds, eyes rolling, back arched off the bed, hands grabbing the other man’s head desperately, toes curling in warning. He moaned loudly, beyond caring if Tony would find it weird, his fingers were shaking, skin shivering. The brunette didn’t seem to mind, though, as he pulled back slowly to suck the very tip of his cock, only to go all the way down again, until Peter could feel the back of his throat and the way it squeezed his cock when he swallowed.

He was good, fuck, he was so good, probably the best Peter ever had, some guys didn’t even care if he got off or not, some didn’t even mind much if he was hard. Not this guy – fuck – this guy didn’t even seem like he cared about getting himself off; from the moment their lips touched for the first time it was all about Peter.

His hands traveled up Peter’s legs from the back of his knees, touch so light he could barely feel it, but a jolt of electricity traveled all the way up to the back of his neck, his hole fluttered around nothing, he was so fucking empty all of a sudden. Tony’s hands reached his ass and he palmed his cheeks hungrily, his fingers were strong and rough as they lifted Peter’s lower half from the bed to meet his mouth halfway. It felt so good, being manhandled like that by such a powerful, gorgeous man, he was going insane seeing that mop of brown-gray hair bobbing up and down on his cock, he was –

“Fuck, daddy, stop, stop – I’m gonna –“

He stopped almost immediately, letting his cock go with a pop and a smirk. He reached for the night stand, where a bottle of lube and a packet of condom sat innocently. Ah, he had planned it. Of course he had, he went to that meeting knowing that he wouldn’t come up to his room alone. Peter was just glad he was the lucky one.

Tony threw the supplies on the bed, then ran his wide, open palms from Peter’s thighs to his ankles, before placing them on his shoulders. He kissed both of his knees sweetly and Peter didn’t really know why, but it made him shiver, his nipples perked up and he gasped, biting his lower lip. Tony leaned forward, folding him almost in half, and took his mouth possessively, capturing his lips like they belonged to him, like it was his right. His tongue fucked into his mouth like a promise and Peter felt helpless and hot all over, hole quivering desperately, begging for touch.

“You were lying earlier, baby boy, you’re just as sweet as I imagined,” he murmured against his lips, before dragging his mouth across his jawline, his goatee scratching his face in the most sweet torture he could imagine. When Tony bit his ear, he felt his wet, slick finger trying to breach him and he yelped in surprise. Again, when had that happened? The older man made him feel so out of it, he thought he was missing time. “You okay?” He asked, seriously, stopping at once.

“Yeah, I’m good, just kiss me,” Peter didn’t mean to sound so needy, and he usually didn’t, but fuck. That guy was messing with his head. Tony smirked and obeyed; his soft, wet lips could almost swallow Peter whole, it drove him mad with want. He barely felt as the finger tried to breach him again, successfully this time, then went deeper and deeper until it was fully sheathed inside him. He whined into Tony’s mouth as he rocked against it, craving that sweet friction, that slight burn on his rim.

Tony fucked his finger in and out of his hole slowly, carefully, it slid easily with the help of a lot of lube. It was such a sweet kind of torture, the promise of something so much better, bigger –

“Fuck,” He squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip until it hurt, as he tried to reign in the pleasure when Tony brushed against his prostate. “Right there, daddy, please...” He could barely form words when he felt the older man slide yet another finger inside him, as he kissed his neck soothingly. “Oh, fuck.”

“Doing okay, sweetie?” He asked quietly against his skin, fingers moving ever so gently until Peter nodded his head frantically and he chuckled, resuming his pace from earlier that night. He scissored his digits and curled them inside him, as Peter moved with him trying to get him to go deeper, faster, harder, he didn’t really know anymore, but he saw white when Tony found his sweet spot again.

“I-I’m not gonna last, daddy,” he warned, feeling another jolt of pleasure course through him when Tony pressured against his prostate yet again. “Pl-please!”

“You beg so nicely,” he whispered against his lips, drawing his fingers out of his hole. He sat up straight on his knees, letting Peter’s legs fall from his shoulders, as he started undoing his pants. “Are you gonna take it like a good boy, huh?” he asked, lowering his pants just enough to free his cock and Peter gasped, because it was fucking gorgeous – long, thick and veiny, and so fucking hard it was dripping, head flushed almost purple, it looked painful. “Do you wanna help daddy get it ready for your little hole?” He asked, stroking it slowly, and Peter up quickly, licking his lips. “Open your mouth, baby, there you go. Just the tip, ok? Don’t make daddy come too early.”

The younger man barely let him finish before he was licking and sucking the head of his cock into his mouth, groaning in satisfaction when the salty, bitter taste of his precum filled his mouth. He held the shaft with one hand, pumping it, and when he looked up he saw Tony with his eyes closed, mouth parted open and he almost came untouched right then and there. “Fuck,” he whispered, pushing Peter’s head away gently, and he whined unhappily.

Tony smirked as he got out of the bed to take his pants and underwear off, returning quickly to push Peter back onto the mattress. The younger man parted his legs, eager for what was to come, and Tony wasted no time, the blunt head of his cock started breaching him unrelentingly. Peter threw his head back, crying out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it was good, fucking perfect.

“Sh, shh, you can take it, I know you can, baby.” He placed sweet kisses on Peter’s neck as each inch of his cock was forced into him, and it felt endless, so big, it wasn’t gonna fit, it wasn’t –“There you go, baby, so good for me, such a good boy.” He whispered against his hair and Peter felt so full, his head was dizzy, he felt so out of it, light, floating, and so fucking good. “Doing okay there, sweetie?”

“Yes, daddy, feels so good,” He was able to answer, grabbing the older man’s face to drag him down for a filthy kiss. “You feel so fucking good, fuck me.”

“As you wish.” He grinned, pulling back slowly only to slam back into him hard, making him see stars. He set a hallucinating pace, hammering into Peter like a madman, hands clutching his ass, his thighs, his waist, leaving bruises everywhere. The younger man wrapped his legs around him for leverage as he rocked back against him just as hard, fingers leaving marks on strong shoulders. Peter saw white when his orgasm took him by surprise – he hadn’t even touched his cock – and when Tony saw it, he lost it. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He kissed him again, sloppy, dirty, wet, and Peter’s hole was sensitive, but it felt so fucking good, he thought would come again. Tony grunted against his lips when he came, hips bucking a few times, before his body fell limply on top Peter, the younger man’s legs falling apart to make room for him.

They lay there for what felt like hours, Tony’s body felt heavy, but good, it grounded him. He shut his eyes and let his fingers run across his broad back as they both tried to catch their breaths. After a while, Tony pulled off, placed a kiss on his abused, swollen lips, and got up from the bed. Peter hissed at the slight burn, but said nothing as the older man headed to the bathroom.

He heard the slick sound of the condom being taken off and thrown in the trash, then he head the tap running and, after a few seconds, Tony came back with a wet towel and gently cleaned his chest and stomach, and Peter smiled, eyes fluttering shut. He wouldn’t fall asleep, though, of course he wouldn’t. He had to go home, back to his own bed, back to real life.

The older man got back in bed and pulled Peter closer, let him rest his head on his chest, and they lay there silently for a while longer, but it didn’t feel weird or awkward, it was nice, Tony’s fingers scratched his scalp as Peter’s fingers drew figures on his skin. It was getting pretty late, though, and he still had to catch the train. He sat up lazily, stretched, then got up to find his clothes.

“Can I see you again?” He was surprised to hear the older man’s voice. He turned around, already buttoning up his shirt, and smirked, as he approached the bed. He covered the older man’s eyes with a hand, playfully.

“I don’t know, can you?” He grinned when Tony grabbed his wrist, an annoyed huff leaving his lips.

“Cheeky.” He kissed his knuckles like he had earlier that night, then looked up at him with a resigned expression. “Is that a no?”

“It’s a ‘give it a try’” Peter winked, smiling honestly. He wasn’t against seeing the older man again, as long as they kept it casual. He didn’t usually go for second “dates” - or fucks – be he could make a few rare exceptions here and there.

“Good.” He smiled that beautiful, genuine smile of his and got up from the bed in all his naked glory. “When you get downstairs, there will be a grumpy-looking man waiting out front. That’s my driver. I’ll text him to take you anywhere you need to go.”

“Oh, there’s no need, really –“

“Let’s skip this part, just accept it, sweetheart. It’s late, if you go out there by yourself and something happens, I feel like that’s on me, and I don’t need that on my conscience.” He took Peter by the chin and pulled him closer, giving him one last kiss. “I’ll see you soon.”

Peter figured he didn’t mean it, he didn’t even ask for his phone number, but that was okay.

~-*-~

“How are you doing, man? It feels like we haven’t talked in ages.” Ned was on speaker because Peter couldn’t seem to find his one good, clean shirt that was supposed to be on the top drawer of the dresser, but it wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“That’s because it’s been ages, dude. I miss you. Stop pulling that disappearing act, will you?” His voice sounded a little sad and Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I know, I’m sorry, life’s crazy when you don’t have a cool, tech job, you know? I’m killing myself here trying to make ends meet.” There was no bite to his tone and Ned knew he wasn’t being bitter, Peter was actually proud of him. When they graduated high school, his friend got accepted into Caltech and was hired by a big company right out of college. He had a nice life in Malibu, it seemed, but Peter never got to visit him.

“You could have one, you know that.” Again, Peter sighed, he hated hearing that familiar sound of disappointment in his voice.

“So, how’s work, anyway?” He changed the subject quickly, finally finding his shirt under the bed, for whatever reason. His phone announced a new message and a quick look revealed it was from Adrian Toomes, the guy he was supposed to meet in an hour and he was already running late. He seemed nice when they talked on Tinder, he had kind, blue eyes, but he was also a little older then Peter would usually go for, but he thought he’d give it a try.

“It’s ok, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Stark Industries is about to launch a new power plant that’s supposed to generate renewable, clean energy, at really low prices.” Peter paused for a second when he heard the name, but then it all made sense, why it had sounded so familiar. Ned had been working for Stark Industries ever since he graduated last fall. “So it’s been a little crazy, but it’s good.”

“Oh, yeah, cool.” He sat on the bed to tie his shoelaces and couldn’t keep his mind from wandering. He remembered that glorious night with Tony and it sent shivers down his spine. He hadn’t thought of that in a while, it had been three weeks since then and, sure enough, no word from him.

“Dude, you know I’m worried about you, right?” Ned asked and Peter flopped on the bed, sighing.

“No need to, Ned, seriously, I’m fine, I’m more than fine, actually.” It felt like the hundredth time that he had to say that in the last half hour.

“Really? When was the last time you saw May?” Peter squeezed his eyes shut at that, refusing to feel the burn of tears that were sure to follow every time he thought of her. He missed her so much, but couldn’t bear the look on her face whenever they met and she realized he’d never amount to anything anymore.

“I don’t know, Christmas?” He shrugged, alone in his messy, tiny room in Brooklyn, and he missed his tiny, old room in Queens, which always smelled of May’s nasty cooking.

“Dude, fuck, that was eight months ago, what about your birthday?” He sounded alarmed for some reason, and Peter flinched, because, yeah – almost a year. Almost a whole goddamned year.

“We talked on the phone. I was busy.” He muttered, fumbling with the hem of his shirt, like a kid who knew he’d messed up.

“Doing what?” Came the outraged reply.

“Stuff.”

“Peter, c’mon!” Ned sighed, frustrated, and Peter pinched his nose, shutting his eyes.

“Ned, stop this, it’s –”

“I just… You’re killing yourself, man, you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this. You deserve to go to a good college, get a good job, have a good relationship with your aunt, who’s your only fucking family, and –“

“Look, I gotta go, I’m late for work. Catch you later?” He asked in a haste, sitting up and taking the phone from the bed. There were three texts from Adrian asking if he was close, and he typed in a quick answer as he flew out the door.

“Sure, man. Talk later.” As always, Ned sounded tired and disappointed, and that was exactly why they never talked anymore.

~–*–~

“Hey, Parker, table three asked for you specifically.” Brad rolled his eyes impatiently as he handed Peter the menu. “You always get the best fucking tables,” he grumbled, walking away towards the kitchen.

Peter took a deep breath and braced himself for what was bound to be a night of unwanted flirting and maybe even some ass groping, which was what usually happened when someone asked for him specifically. That place was a dump, they couldn’t careless if the waiters were harassed by the clients, as long as they payed for their food. Well, he hoped some good tipping was involved, otherwise he would lose his shit, he really wasn’t having a good day.

When he headed towards the table, though, he quickly recognized those smart, brown eyes staring back at him, that cocky smirk framing perfect, straight, white teeth and the honey-like voice that greeted him.

“Missed me?” He asked coolly, but Peter knew better than that, a man like Tony Stark wouldn’t casually walk into a dumpster in Brooklyn to have dinner on a Thursday evening. He was there for a reason.

“How did you know where to find me?” Peter raised his eyebrows, clutching the menu, and the older man just looked amused.

“I have my ways,” he replied unhelpfully, with a smug, self-satisfied grin, and Peter couldn’t help but smile back, even though it was a little creepy.

“Should I be worried?” He asked, placing the menu in front of the older man and, sure enough, he didn’t even try to pretend to be interested in it.

“Probably.” He shrugged, eyes never leaving Peter’s body, like they were actually trying to burn holes in his clothes. “So, is the waiter on the menu?” He cocked his head to the side, trying to look at Peter’s ass, and the younger man chuckled, shaking his head at his antics.

“I’m afraid not, sir.” He looked around to check if anyone was listening in on them, and once he was satisfied, leaned down a little to whisper closer to the older man’s ear. “But he gets off at eleven if you wanna ask him again.” A wide grin spread across the man’s perfect face, accentuating the little crow feet around his eyes.

“My driver will meet you out front.”

“Sh, sh, shhh, nice and slow, sweetie, nice and slow… There you go. Good boy.” Peter felt like crying as he rode the older man’s cock painfully slowly, knuckles white from clutching the solid muscles on his shoulders like his life depended on it. With one hand, Tony held his right hip firmly, dictating the pace, and with the other he was stroking Peter’s cock, pumping it lazily, as he kissed his jaw and nipped his neck. “Such a sweet boy.”

“Daddy, please, I need to come so badly,” he begged, eyes squeezed shut, hips twitching, wanting to go faster. He felt so full, and stretched, and perfect, he just wanted to ride the hell out of that dick and find his release, but the mere sound of Tony’s voice telling him to go slow was enough to pin him to place. Fuck, the things he’d let that man do to him.

“Not now, honey, I’ll make it good for you, I promise,” he whispered against his lips, before taking them roughly. Peter cupped the older man’s face with both of his hands, kissing him back with just as much hunger and despair, trying with all his heart to keep the slow pace that Tony imposed.

“You’re killing me.” He bit Tony’s lip harder than necessary and the older man smirked, biting him back, as his right hand left his hip to tug his hair. Peter moaned as he sunk back down on his cock, trying to take it as deeply as it could possibly go and it drove him a little mad when it brushed against his prostate for the hundredth time that night. He moved upwards until the head of his cock almost slipped out of him, making them both hiss, Peter’s dick was leaking so much precum Tony’s stomach was soaking wet with it.

“You’re such an impatient brat,” he grumbled, tugging Peter’s hair hard enough to make him tilt his head back, exposing his throat, and Tony attacked it with soft bites and kisses. “It feels amazing inside of you, I’m just enjoying it for as long as I can, is it to much to ask?” His hand slid from the back of his head all the way down his back to his ass and Tony grabbed it roughly, squeezing his right cheek before slapping it loudly.

“You’re mean,” he whined softly, but he shivered all over at the words, the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the cock inside him brushed his prostate yet again. “Daddy!”

“Take what you need, baby, c’mon.” Finally, sweet permission. Peter let himself go with abandon, holding on to Tony’s shoulders as he bounced on his cock for dear life, trying messily to thrust into the tight squeeze of his fist at the same time. “That’s it, baby, come for me, come on.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He slipped over the edge, falling limp in Tony’s arms, and the older man flipped him easily, lying him on the couch, manhandling him like he was a rag doll, only to pound him into the cushions, taking his pleasure from him like it was his god-given right. Fuck, he was so hot with his face all scrunched up in pleasure, in ecstasy, as he came inside Peter. He wished he could feel his seed sliding out of him, he really did.

They lay there for a while, breathing heavily, and again Peter felt like Tony’s weight on top of him was grounding and soothing. It didn’t last long, though, as the older man rolled off of him and headed for the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later with a wet towel to clean him up.

“How do you feel about room service?” He asked, once he was done, as he sat back on the couch with Peter’s legs on his lap. “I’m starving, that ting you called a steak hardly counts as dinner.”

“Ah, which reminds me,” Peter reached for his jeans on the floor, struggling a little. He pulled out the five hundred dollars Tony had left on the table from his left pocket and offered it to the older man, who raised a brow. “I’m a little slutty, but you do know I’m not actually a hooker, right?”

“What? I just really enjoyed the service back in the restaurant.” He feigned innocence but accepted the money back, throwing it on the couch. “I was just trying to show my appreciation.”

“I can think of a few other ways you can show your appreciation,” Peter smirked, parting his legs, making Tony laugh loudly.

“Starting with some food, how about that? You must be hungry, too.” He squeezed Peter’s calves, and the younger man bit his lip. He should really leave, he really wasn’t the type to stay around after fucking. It just felt weird and overly intimate to be with a person after you’re both sated, it seemed besides the point. Still--

“Sounds good.”

The older man grinned and quickly grabbed the phone to place an order, Peter couldn’t understand half the words he said, really, but he’d eat pretty much anything. Feeling a little self-conscious to be naked now that they were done, he crossed his arms over his chest, not sure if he should get dressed, or if it was rude or whatever, he really wasn’t familiar with that part.

“Are you cold?” Tony probably noticed him rubbing his arms.

“Yeah, a little,” he answered sheepishly, and the older man got up from the couch, heading for the bathroom again, coming back with two robes.

“Here. It is a bit chilly.” Peter accepted it with a sigh of relief and quickly covered himself with the soft, fluffy robe. Tony grinned when Peter snuggled on the couch like a satisfied cat, then walked to the mini bar in his own robe, which somehow made him look expensive and refined, not like he had just stepped out of a bath. “So, how long have you worked at that restaurant?”

“I don’t know, too long, for sure.” Peter smiled, watching as the older man filled two glasses with scotch from tiny bottles. “Why, do you wanna hire me? Not as an escort, I hope.”

“That wouldn’t be such a terrible idea. I could keep you on my arm like a pretty accessory, people would assume you were just a dumb gold-digger. Then you’d open your mouth and knock them dead with that brilliant brain of yours. I’d pay good money to see that.” Tony came back with the glasses then offered one to Peter, as he sat on the couch by his side. “But seriously, kid, you’re so smart. Thought you’d be doing something else. I actually looked you up to make sure you weren’t a corporate spy working for Oscorps or something, that’s how I knew where to find you.”

“Told you, just a waiter.” He shrugged, growing uncomfortable with the subject, and the older man must have picked up on that, because he dropped it immediately.

“Did you get a chance to read my paper?” He asked with a curious glint in his eyes and Peter nodded excitedly.

“Yes, I looked it up, it’s genius! Where the fuck did that idea come from?”

Everything became easier after that, they spent hours talking about the arc reactor, how it worked, and how Tony got the idea for it. When the food arrived, they sat at the small table in the room and somehow ended up talking about Tony’s time at MIT – Peter’s dream college –, about Stark industries, what life was like in Malibu. Peter had no idea what he was eating, but it was delicious, and so was the wine. It was nearing 2AM when they finished and Peter started getting dressed.

“You can stay over, you know, plenty of room in the bed.” Tony announced from his spot on the couch, nursing yet another glass of scotch.

“Oh, I noticed.” Peter smirked, but didn’t reply to what the older man said, as he continued to get dressed. Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just kept watching Peter like some sort of predator.

“What a man’s got to do to get your phone number, huh?” The older man’s voice startled him when he was fully dressed and he turned around, raising an eyebrow.

“You could try asking for it.” He smirked, seeing a similar expression take over Tony’s face.

“Can I have you number, kid?” He asked, amused, and Peter pretended to think, tapping his chin.

“I don’t know, I kinda like my privacy.” He sighed, and the older man threw a cushion at him, making him giggle. He told him the number, though, and Tony typed it into his phone.

“Is that your real number? Will you actually answer if I call?” He narrowed his eyes and Peter shrugged.

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself.” He crossed his arms over his chest when Tony got up from the couch, approaching him slowly.

“Why do you have to be such a tease about everything, you little minx?” His robe was tied very loosely around his waist, his chest was almost completely exposed, Peter’s fingers twitched, wanting to touch it.

“I’m a man of mystery” He answered gravely, feeling the older man’s strong arms wrapping around his waist.

“You’re an asshole,” Tony muttered against his neck as he bit it, and Peter giggled, trying to get away.

“You like my asshole.” They burst out laughing and Tony pulled him into one last kiss.

~-*-~

Walking inside that apartment felt like time-traveling. Everything was exactly how he left it years ago, May didn’t move a single vase out of place. He suspected that his room would still be the same, too, but didn’t dare to check. He sat on the couch and observed May’s features, she looked older. Still incredibly gorgeous, yes, but older. The only thing in the apartment that gave away that time had moved on.

“Mr. Delmar asked about you the other day.” She smiled, sipping her coffee.

“It’s been a while.” He admitted, watching her face become more serious as she nodded slowly.

Fuck, this was such a bad idea, he shouldn’t have come. Ever since his talk with Ned, he was feeling guilty about not visiting May, but sitting there, in his childhood home, with the woman who raised him like a mother, felt – wrong. He didn’t deserve to be there. He should never be there. He ruined her.

“It wasn’t your fault, Pete,” she could always tell what he was thinking – another good reason not to visit. “There was nothing you could have done to –“

“I was right there, May,” he cut her off, quietly, rubbing his hands at his face. They’d had that conversation at least a million times over the years and it still felt draining. “He pointed the gun at me first, you know. Ben protected me. I stood there, frozen, like a scared little boy. I didn’t –“

“What were you supposed to do? Jump in front of the bullet? Die in his place? Peter, he would never want you to do that, I would never want you to do that! You were like a son to him, to us, it was our duty to protect you, not the other way around!” She pleaded, desperate, and he looked away from her. No matter what she said, he looked at her, at how – broken she was, and he knew it was because of him. Because he couldn’t help Ben. Because her husband gave his life to save his, and Ben was a hardworking, kind, loving man, who had May and tons of friends, and Peter was just – worthless. He knew, deep down, May could see that too.

“Nevermind, I’m just gonna –“

“It was hard for me, too, Pete.” She said, suddenly. “I know you were a kid and you loved him like a father, but he was my husband. My life partner. It was hard for me, too.” Her eyes were shining when she looked at him briefly and his heart broke to pieces to see how devastated she was, but she looked away quickly.

“I never said it wasn’t, May –“

“But it wasn’t your fault. Never, in a million years, could anyone ever blame you. I just… I don’t know why you keep pushing me away. I know I’m not your blood like Ben was, but you’re still my nephew, no matter what. I raised you like a son.” She was crying openly now and Peter couldn’t even reach out to comfort her.

“I’m so sorry, May.” He covered his face with his hands, unwilling to look at her, unwilling to let her see the tears forming in his own eyes at her admission. “It’s not you, okay? It’s just – I need – I-I miss you, too.”

After Ben’s death, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bear to look at May. He couldn’t bear to be in the apartment. He figured they reminded him of Ben, of his parents, of better days, but it wasn’t just that. He was 16 when Ben died and it broke him, it took him back to that dark place he’d been in at 10, after his parents’ death. He couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t leave the house. He failed so many classes, by the time they were supposed to apply for colleges, he didn’t have many options and, weirdly enough, he didn’t really care. May was devastated, she cried for months. It was hard, looking at her.

But she didn’t deserve what he was doing to her, so he sucked it up and smiled.

“I promise I’m gonna visit more often, ok? Are you free on Sunday?”

~– * –~

It was Saturday night and Peter was just lounging on his bed, after a long shift at the restaurant, when his phone ringed. He didn’t recognize the number, but he figured it could be one of the guys he hooked up with in the past, and he was really bored, so.

“Hello?”

“Ah, so this really is your number.” Peter was a little surprised to hear that voice. After he left the hotel, a couple of weeks prior, Tony never called or texted, so he thought that was the end of their little adventure. He smiled to himself.

“Took you long enough to figure that out.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, kid, I meant to call earlier, but that whole world domination plan is still a thing, so I’m a little short on time. But I’ll be in New York next Thursday, any chance you could make some time for me then? Say, around nine?”

Peter bit his lower lip, considering. He enjoyed Tony’s company, he really did, the man was smart and funny, and he made Peter feel so fucking good when they fucked. He was also a great kisser, a very attentive lover and just generally a nice guy. The thing was, Peter couldn’t even remember the last time he had a third date with someone and, to be completely honest, he usually tried to avoid those, he didn’t want to send the wrong message. But Tony lived in California, anyway, and he only called when he was in town, looking for sex, so what was the harm in going?

“Sure, yeah. I can make that work.” He shrugged at the empty room.

“Sweet. Dress nice, I’m taking you somewhere fancy.”

“Oh, God, no, there’s no --” Peter rubbed at his face, already feeling anxious just to think about the sort of restaurants Tony usually went to.

“Hey, don’t even try, I’m gonna feed you before I fuck you, it’s common courtesy and I’m a gentleman. You just didn’t give me a chance before, you jumped me before I could even offer you a drink.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you complaining, what with your tongue so far down my throat.” Peter grinned and heard the other man chuckle.

“Happy will pick you up at nine, brat. Text me the address sometime this week.”

Peter was still a little tipsy from the fancy wine they had at dinner and the scotch they had later. Tony wasn’t kidding when he said it was a fancy restaurant, he felt weird and out of place at first, but the older man made everything seem so normal and natural, he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his brain seemed to stop functioning properly around him.

They ended up back in his hotel room, where they had the sloppiest, messiest, drunkest sex anyone had ever had and Peter was lying on his stomach with his eyes closed, slowly sobering up as the minutes ticked by. Tony was sitting with his back against the headboard, running his fingertips lightly across Peter’s shoulders, talking about his PA, Pepper Potts, and how he couldn’t run the company without her, because he was such a slacker. He was still drinking scotch and Peter honestly had no idea how he wasn’t completely trashed, even though he was clearly not sober either.

“You were really young when you took over the company, right?” Peter slurred, sleepily, as Tony’s fingers slid up the back of his neck and into his hair, massaging his scalp. The younger man closed his eyes, purring.

“Yeah, I was around twenty or something.” For the first time since they met, Tony’s voice was quiet, not booming with confidence or mirth, just quiet and soft.

“Because your parents died?” Peter whispered, eyes still closed, but Tony’s hand in his hair didn’t even falter, so he figured it wasn’t a touchy subject.

“Yeah.”

“How did you cope so well?” He opened his eyes and the older man was resting his head against the headboard, eyes closed, face relaxed and open, fingers still scratching his scalp. It took Peter by surprise how at ease he seemed to be around him, it made him blush and feel – what was he feeling?

“I didn’t, kid, I was all over the place. I got drunk every night, got high everyday. I fucked so many people it’s miracle I didn’t get some fucked up STD. My twenties are a fucking blur.” He turned to look at the younger man and he felt so small under his gaze.

“But you’re better now.” He whispered, trying hard not to break eye contact. The older man smiled.

“Yeah, this might come as a surprise to you, but it’s been a while since I was twenty.” Tony grinned and Peter raised his upper body, supporting his weight on his elbows. Tony slid his knuckles across his cheeks, and Peter’s eyes fluttered shut. “Did you lose your parents, too?” He asked, softly, and Peter thought about avoiding the question, but he was too drunk and too tired to be mysterious.

“Yeah, when I was ten. I-I was all over the place, too, and just when I thought I was getting better, I lost my uncle – and I. I couldn’t help him. He was like a father to me. I think it fucked me up for good, you know?” He winced while trying to smile, and the older man tried to smooth down the lines on his forehead with his fingers.

“Nah, it gets better. I promise.”

“That’s nice to hear.” He smiled, even though he didn’t believe him, and Tony could probably tell. “How come you never married?” Tony raised and eyebrow, amused, and Peter shrugged. “You’re hot, smart, rich. Like, people must throw themselves at you all the time. Are you a confirmed bachelor or something?”

“It just never happened. I guess when you have so many – attractive features, it’s difficult to tell who’s there for the right reasons.” He pinched Peter’s nose and the younger man scrunched up his face, making Tony laugh. “Why? Are you gonna propose? Got a ring hidden up this cute little butt? Let me check.” He playfully patted and squeezed Peter’s ass cheeks and he squealed, laughing hard.

“You wish!” He giggled when Tony started tickling his ribs, batting his hands away and turning over on the bed. “Stop!” The older man crawled on top of him, caging his head between him arms as Peter panted, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t have a chance to do so, because Tony started kissing him gently and deeply, slowly, and Peter melted into the bed. The man was such a good kisser, he could swear he must have taken a course somewhere or something like that. When he pulled away, Peter took a deep breath. “I have to go now.”

“You want to go now.” Tony corrected, but he was smiling. He rolled off of his body, not before leaving a peck on his lips. “Happy will be waiting for you out front. Drink lots of water, you don’t wanna have a hang over tomorrow.”

“You do realize you’re not really my dad, right?” Peter narrowed his eyes at the older man and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Oh, no, trust me, if I were, you wouldn’t be this bratty.”

–*--

Bored out of my mind

Tony’s text lighted up Peter’s phone screen and he smiled, shaking his head as he pocketed it to serve his tables. That was a thing, now, apparently. He and Tony texting. They had been doing it for a few weeks, ever since the older man left the last time. He was fine with that. They were friends, Tony made him laugh, and there was the added benefit of sex whenever he was in town, there was really no harm.

His phone vibrated in his pocket a few other times as he worked, he figure they were more texts from Tony, or maybe even from May or Ned. He had been trying to talk to them more often and, slowly, it stopped feeling weird and forced. Slowly, it started feeling good again.

Once his shift was over and he walked home, he took a quick shower and opened his texts. There two from Tony, one with a picture of his bored face and another one saying “entertain me”. There was a text from Ned letting him know that he planned to come home for Christmas and a missed call from May that he’d return later.

More importantly, there was a notification from Tinder. When he opened it, he saw that he was matched with a guy named Quentin Beck. He was 38, so not a lot older, but still. He looked gorgeous, with pale blue eyes and a lumberjack beard. It had been a while since he had gone out with anyone besides Tony – actually, when he thought about it, he hadn’t really talked to anyone new in a very long time.

So when the guy asked him if he wanted to meet that night, he went. He didn’t really want to go, even though the guy was gorgeous and apparently very nice, but he went anyway. They made small talk in the guy’s living room, but they soon moved to his bedroom. He was okay, not amazing, Peter had to get himself off or he wouldn’t come. It was whatever, he felt a little used, a little weird, but didn’t think much about it.

When he got home, he texted Tony a picture of himself making a silly face, along with a text: “I hope this is entertaining enough.” Not even two minutes later, he got a text with a picture of the older man with a hand over his heart, making a dramatic face. “I’m not entertained, I’m in love, but thanks for trying.”

Peter laughed alone in his room at Tony’s joke, shaking his head, and for some reason, his night got a little better.

–*--

“I missed you so much, baby boy.” Tony whispered in his ear from behind and he shivered all over, clutching the wooden headboard as the older man slammed against him, chest touching his back, arms firmly wrapped around his waist. Fuck, he missed Tony, too, so much, even though they’d been talking every day for months, they hadn’t met in a long time, Peter was climbing the walls by the time the older man announced he’d be in town for the weekend. “Come for me, baby, come on.” He wrapped a hand around Peter’s cock and it took only two pumps to push him over the edge, as he moaned loudly, hole clenching around Tony’s dick as the older man came, too, grunting against his neck.

After a few seconds catching his breath, Tony pulled away, still holding Peter from behind, kissing his neck, his ears, and tickling his ribs. Peter giggled, trying to get away, but the older man wouldn’t let him.

“Tony, cut it out!” He squealed, and finally the older man let him go. Breathing hard and still giggling a bit, he stepped out of the bed and hurried to the bathroom to clean himself up. “I really have to go, I’m so, so late!” Peter couldn’t afford to give up his shift at the restaurant, money was really tight that month, so he and Tony managed to squeeze an hour between the end of the man’s meetings and the beginning of Peter’s shift, but he was already running late.

He went around the room putting on his clothes, and when he was finally ready, Tony got up from the bed to meet him at the door.

“You need a new jacket” He muttered against his lips as they shared a final kiss. They both looked down at Peter’s pitiful jacket, there were at least two visible holes on it, and Peter knew there was another one under his left arm that Tony couldn’t see.

“Tell that to my bank account.” He joked, watching a dissatisfied look take over Tony’s face.

“Let me buy you one.” He asked seriously, wrapping his arms around his waist, and Peter rolled his eyes.

“Tony –“

“Please. We’ve been seeing each other for what, five months now? I’ve never got you a gift, do you know how hard this is for me? I’m a billionaire, I like spending money on people, you’re killing me with this ‘no gifts policy’, kid.”

“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, smiling, and the older man looked hopeful, arms tightening around his waist.

“So, what do you say? I have the afternoon off tomorrow, I could take you shopping.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Peter raised one finger in front of his face.

“Not shopping. One jacket. One single jacket. I mean it.” He said gravely, only to see a grin spread across Tony’s face.

“Gorgeous. Exquisite.” He adjusted the lapels of Peter’s new jacket, then his new scarf, which matched his new gloves perfectly. They had just stepped out of the store and Peter was still a little freaked out that there were no price tags on the clothes and Tony didn’t let him check the receipt. “And cute as a button.” He pecked his lips.

“You’re impossible!” He said as Tony clasped a hand on the back of his neck and guided him down the street, walking straight by Happy and his car. Peter frowned. “Aren’t we going back to the hotel?” They had met at the store after Tony’s meetings were over, so they hadn’t got a chance to be alone yet.

“How about some hot chocolate first?” He offered, walking them towards a coffee shop just down the street, and Peter shrugged, agreeing. Tony slid his arm across Peter’s shoulders and pulled him closer, and the younger man tucked himself under his arm contently, sighing at the warmth.

When they got to the coffee shop, Tony told him to take a seat while he ordered. He stared out the window as he waited, thinking that Christmas was just around the corner and how fast that year had gone by and how much had changed, specially over the last few months. He smiled to himself, feeling silly and happy, for the first time in a very long time.

“What is it, did someone fall on their butt?” Tony asked when he arrived with their drinks, looking out the window curiously. Peter chuckled, shaking his head, but didn’t offer anymore information. He eyed the mugs of hot chocolate filled to the brim with whipped-cream and his mouth watered.

Tony sat by his side on the booth and Peter took the beverage with both hands, trying to steal some of its warmth, and when he took the first sip, some of the whipped-cream smeared his nose and upper lip. He went cross-eyed trying to lick it clean, and heard Tony laughing out loud beside him.

“Oh, no, wait, wait!” He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and directed the camera at Peter. The young man made a bored face as Tony took the picture. “And that is my new wallpaper, thanks,” he beamed, turning to look at Peter again. “C’mere,” before the young man could react, Tony licked the tip of his nose clean.

“Tony!” There were tears in his eyes from how much he was laughing, even though he was punching the older man’s arm in protest.

~-*-~

“I don’t want you to make a big deal out of this, ok?” Peter warned seriously and heard Ned agree eagerly. They had been talking more often over the last few months, just like he was trying to visit May at least once a weak. “I’m gonna start attending community college next year.” He bit his lower lip nervously, a little afraid of what Ned would think. May had cried tears of joy for hours when he told her, but he and Ned had once made plans to be roommates at MIT and he had graduated from CalTech last fall, so--

“Peter, holy fuck! Dude, I can’t – I’m so fucking happy for you! That’s what I’m talking about, you’re awesome, you’re gonna do great, and then –“

“Okay, calm down, like I said, let’s not make a big deal out of this, ok? It’s just something that I’m gonna try and it might not work, so chill.” He smiled to himself, a little relieved that Ned was happy for him, but what did he expect? He was the best friend Peter could hope for.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, sure. Of course. Super chill.” He was silent for just a few seconds, before he spoke excitedly again. “But I’m so happy, Pete. You’re – I’m glad to see you’re doing okay.”

“Speaking of seeing, are you coming home for Christmas? I miss you, dude, haven’t seen you in what, two years?”

“Yeah, I’ll come, and I have good news of my own! Are you sitting down?” Peter confirmed, amused. “Ok, remember I told you about Stark Industries new power plant and stuff?”

“Yes?” Peter blushed at the mention of the name Stark. Ned had no idea that he’d been banging his boss, so it was always weird when he talked about his job.

“It’s gonna operate in New York, they were putting together a team to transfer there, and guess who’s going?”

“Shut up!”

“Yeah! I’m going home, dude, for good! And best part is, I’m gonna work closely with Mr. Stark, I’m talking about same floor kinda deal, dude.” Peter froze.

“Wait, what? But I thought T – Mr. Stark lived in Malibu?” Surely Ned must be mistaken, Tony loved Malibu, he would never leave it for New York, that was stupid. He wasn’t coming.

“Yeah, dude, but he’s moving to New York next year, after they launch the power plant. He’s moving the headquarters of S.I. to New York.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Peter tried to take a deep breath, he just needed to rationalize this. They just couldn’t be together once he moved, that would be – they weren’t dating or anything, because Tony lived thousands of miles away, so if he came, it would be different, because they would be living in the same city, and just – really, they weren’t dating, Peter didn’t date, so they weren’t dating, so it was fine, he’d just call Tony and let him know that their arrangement was over, which was fine, he didn’t –

“Oh. Cool.” He remembered that Ned was still on the line.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I’m psyched!”

–

“Hey, Pete. Are you ok?” Tony answered on the second ring, sounding surprised and on alert. “You never call.”

“Sorry, did I disturb you? Can you talk?” He asked, nervously. There was a reason he never called Tony, he was a busy, important man, he had meetings to go and things to create and money to make, he couldn’t possibly have time for Peter.

“Yeah, sure, what’s up? Is something the matter? Are you in trouble? You sound nervous.” He could hear the concern in his voice and he bit his lips, feeling guilty. There was nothing Tony had to worry about, after all, it was silly, Peter was making a big deal out of nothing. It wasn’t like they were breaking up or anything, they weren’t even together to begin with, so. It was just a “no more sex” kind of talk. Nothing to be nervous about.

“I’m fine, I’m okay, it’s – Are- are you moving to New York?”

“What? How do you know that?” He was surprised by the question, but didn’t seem mad, which was good, he didn’t want to get Ned in trouble over this.

“Just answer, please?” He pleaded quietly.

“Yes, I am. It was supposed to be a surprise, though, I was gonna tell you in person, after Christmas. What’s the matter?” Again, he sounded worried, and Peter bit his lips until he drew blood.

“It’s just… I… We – I don’t know, Tony, I’m. What is this to you – us? What are we…?” He didn’t know why the fuck he was going in that direction, he was just supposed to say they couldn’t fuck anymore.

“Uh, I don’t know? Does it matter? Do you wanna put a name on it? We can be boyfriends or whatever, but I think I’m a little old for that title, so maybe you could be my boyfriend and I can be your… manfriend? Significant other? We can figu–”

“Tony, stop joking around!” He gasped, shocked at the word boyfriend, what was Tony even talking about, Jesus, they weren’t – they never –

“I’m not joking around. I mean, I was joking about the manfriend thing, but otherwise I’m dead serious.” Fuck, no, this couldn’t be right, this couldn’t be true. Surely Tony wasn’t being serious, of course it was all a big joke, they weren’t dating, for fuck’s sake, they were fucking, that was it, nothing more, why was he talking about boyfriends, relationships – “Peter, you’re freaking out.”

“Of course I’m freaking out!” He squealed, taking himself by surprise by how high his own voice sounded.

“I knew this was gonna happen, that’s why I wanted to talk to you in person. Look, it’s no big deal.” Why the fuck was he so calm and collected?

“Tony, this is not – we’re not – this is casual! It’s – It’s just sex!” He reasoned, hearing a sigh coming from the other side.

“Honey, c’mon, you know that’s not true. I care about you, and I know you –“

“I’ve slept with other men while you were away.” He blurted out, because that was very important information, that was proof that they weren’t serious. He slept with Toomes and with Beck and if they were boyfriends he wouldn’t have done that, so, clearly, they weren’t boyfriends, what kind of boyfriend would do that? No kind. No kind of boyfriend would do that.

“O-kay.” He said slowly, clearly surprised by the confession. “Okay, that’s fine, we haven’t talked about exclusivity yet, so you did nothing wrong, there’s nothing to –“

“Tony! I’m – I’m worthless! I’m a slut, I’m poor, I’m – I’m just a waiter, I have no future, you can’t be with me!” He was really freaking out there, he could barely breath, he was sweating like a pig, pacing his room, and Tony couldn’t seem to understand what he was saying, why couldn’t he understand what he was saying? Wasn’t the man supposed to be a genius?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, kid! First of all, take a deep breath, will you? Second of all, I’m a big boy, I can very well choose who I want to be with or not. And third of all, are you insane? You’re the smartest person I’ve talked to in years, you’re gorgeous, funny, kind and sweet, and of course I wanna be with you!”

“Well, I-I don’t wanna be with you,” He answered, voice wavering, but he was sure of it, of course he was sure.

“Peter, come on, you’re not thinking this through –“

“I can’t do this, Tony, I can’t. I’m not – I’m not boyfriend material, I’m – You’re – This isn’t gonna work.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down, he was doing the right thing, it was for the best.

“It’s been working for almost six months in case you haven’t noticed, Pete, what --”

“No, no! We’re not – Look, I’ve gotta go, just – Just leave it alone, ok?” He didn’t wait for an answer, he just hung up the phone and threw out of reach. There, done. Easy as pie.

–*--

Christmas had come and gone and it was really nice. He and May had take out Thai food after they ruined their attempts of cooking Christmas dinner. It was kind of a tradition for them. They would try to cook, fuck up royally, then they’d order the least Christmassy thing they could think of. Ned visited for a couple of days, they hung out in his room building Legos and drinking beer, then he had to go back to Malibu, but he was supposed to move back in February, which was nice.

Everything was nice and okay, life hadn’t been this easy in a long time, so he had no idea why there was a Tony-shaped void in his heart, when he was so used to that place to being completely and shapelessly empty.

It was the first week of January when his bell rang, he thought it was the Chinese he ordered, but when he opened the door, soft brown eyes stared back at him.

“Tony, wh – what are you doing here?” He stuttered, clutching the door, and the older man looked so elegant and composed and calm, what was he even doing in such a terrible neighborhood, he didn’t belong there.

“May I come in?” He asked calmly, and Peter wanted to say no, because he couldn’t look at him, he didn’t want to look at him. But he couldn’t say no, so he stepped aside and let the man in. He stood there, in the middle of his ridiculously tiny and messy living room, and Peter closed the door, leaning against it, as if he needed a quick escape route in case of emergencies. He turned to look at Peter. “Not very nice of you to break up over the phone, hang up on me and then block my number, kid.”

“I-I, I didn’t, I –“ Before he could think of an answer, the older man raised a hand, stopping him.

“It’s okay, I forgive you, I’m here now, sorry I couldn’t come earlier.” He stepped closer to Peter, who in turn tried to become one with the door the way he pressed his back against it.

“I-I didn’t ask you to come. In fact, you should leave,” He muttered, looking down at the floor, until he saw Tony’s expensive shoes stepping into his line of view, so close to his sock-clad feet, and he blushed when he noticed that his socks didn’t even match.

“Here’s what I think, correct me if I get anything wrong. I think you’re lonely – and I think you like feeling lonely, because it’s safer. I think you’ve isolated yourself from the people you love, afraid you’d lose them one way or another, afraid that you’d have to go through that pain again, and you’ve been avoiding getting close to other people for way too long. And then I came in.” Tony placed a finger on his chin, lifting his head gently, and Peter hadn’t even noticed that his face was wet and he was sobbing quietly. He closed his eyes, he couldn’t bear to look at Tony’s face, afraid of what he might see there. “I know you, kid. I’ve been you.” Tony’s lips on his took him by surprise, but he didn’t flinch, he didn’t move away, he craved that touch, he wanted Tony to come closer, to hold him, to stay with him, just – “I love you. And I’m not going anywhere, you can’t push me away.”

“Tony.” He wrapped his arms around his neck, crying silently against his shoulder. There were so many words trapped in his mouth, but he couldn’t say them, he couldn’t.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not leaving,” He whispered against his curls, holding him so tight, so close, that Peter believed him.

If you let me

Here’s what I’ll do

I’ll take care of you.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #ironspider

1K notes · View notes

vydante · 5 years

Text

Restart | Avengers x Male! Reader | 9

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Avengers x Male! Reader (romantically: multiple)

Plot: Dr. Strange said there was only one possibility of winning the battle against Thanos.

But when (Name) is forced into the past and into his younger body, he’s suddenly given the chance to start over and prevent the future from happening again.

So which route are you going to take? Are you going to risk the future and take preventative measures, or live life with the Avengers for the next 4 years, knowing what will soon come?

A/N: Long- 5.29k words. Lmao did y’all miss me? Also, completely in POV of future timeline, so no actual (Name) ‘till next chapter. Granted, next chapter we get to meet someone pretty chill, so there’s that. So... yah.

It's safe to say that it's been a complete shit storm on Earth, Carol muses behind her cup of coffee.

Of course, it's not just Earth that's undergoing complete mass hysteria from the reversed blip. Other planets and societies beyond the Terran solar system were facing the after-effects of what had happened, too- and it doesn't help that Earth was so cut off from the intergalactic systems, so nearly everyone else didn't know of what had happened.

So least to say, she was quite busy trying to maneuver her way through the galaxies (with help, of course) to try and spread the word of what had happened.

Regardless though, she'd thought that after weeks and weeks, perhaps maybe the news would've slowed down a little bit. And it seemed to have, just a little bit, but for every time news slows, another wave comes in.

The first wave was about, obviously, the reversed blip. Of course, that one didn't have enough time to slow down as the next wave came around. The death of Tony Stark was announced a week after the fight- just so his family and friends had enough time to mourn in privacy. Then the next one about the sacrifice Natasha Romanoff made- though it was a smaller wave, it was one that still had a huge impact. And for a while, it seemed like that was that- weeks pass, and just barely had the craze around the reverse blip (Lord, there's got to be another name for this, Carol thinks) lessened.

And then (Name) Stark is pronounced dead.

To say the headlines erupted once again in a mad-dog-like frenzy would be an understatement. Hell- Carol would even dare say that it was almost as talked about as his father's death. Of course, it was in part due to, well, (Name) fucking Stark being pronounced dead. A man of his status was bound to capture the headlines with his passing for weeks, just like his old man.

But it was also in part credited to something else: the timing and nature of his death, or lack thereof.

Carol remembers watching the SI press conference a couple of hours ago, just as it finished broadcasting. She was a few light-years away from Earth as she heads back for check-in.

(New message, 3 hours ago: Maria R.

'Hey, I think you might wanna watch this before you come back to Earth. Just broadcasted. It's about (Name) Stark.'

Carol pauses, midway through drying her hair as she's about to put her uniform on. She'd be lying if curiosity wasn't eating at her, so she still clicks on the link Maria had sent her.)

(Name) was... A prominent figure within Earth's society. Being the CEO of Stark Industries (a massive company, so she's been told), a superhero/ Avenger, and the world's 'longest-running most eligible bachelor' (Carol scoffs- why is that one of the main things the public likes to point out so much?) definitely lands you underneath the people's microscope more often than not.

They'd pick at every nitty-gritty detail one by one and shred into it without mercy.

And even in his death, they did the same thing. Unsatisfied, they practically crucified Stark Industries and the Avengers after SI’s press conference.

She glances around her, the local tavern loud with nothing but one word on their lips: Stark.

'Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he died from like, an inside job or something.'

'Died too young, man. The kid had so much potential to be great... May God rest his soul.'

Carol shakes her head. They weren’t wrong- from what she’s seen working with (Name), he was a hard worker, that’s for sure. Sighing, she left a tip at her table and quietly left.

Hopefully, for Earth, they’ll come to find some peace soon.

"You okay, punk?”

'No,' Steve fiddles with nail absentmindedly, 'I'm not.'

That's his honest answer to the question. He wants to scream and shout to the world that no, he is not okay whatsoever, but he knows that's one of the many luxuries he'll never get to have anymore- even to the people closest to him. Too much of a burden no one would want to carry.

So, instead, he smiles at Bucky with more teeth than necessary, face straining ever so slightly.

"Sure thing, Buck'. Are you?"

The brunette offers him a small, sympathetic smile back. It's not the same as Steve had remembered- it used to be confident and relaxed, but nowadays it's always tense and careful. But then again, it wasn't like Steve was the same man either, so he'd be hypocritical to expect the same man from his memories from his old pal.

"I'm managing."

It was always something along the lines of that. Never an okay, never a not okay. Just... managing. Short and simple.

It's scary how much Bucky's reserved presence reminds him of how Steve himself used to be, back when he was wide-eyed and naive to what the world has become without him. He didn't really feel like he was actually there and knowing how separated he and the rest of the world were made him want to close in on himself.

On one hand, he'd never wish that feeling of emptiness on anyone. But on the other hand, he's almost relieved he's not the only one who's felt so completely alone in this world anymore.

Almost.

Steve doesn't say anything as Bucky comes over to where he was in the living room and sits adjacent to him on the couch. For a brief moment, they say nothing as the TV plays the news station. Steve pretends to watch the news, but he can't find the energy to care about what's going on in the news. It's all the same thing nowadays: Blip, Blip, Avengers, Blip, Starks...

Settling down in his seat, he lets his mind drifts off other places instead.

It drifts to a cramped, moldy apartment that was too small and cold for the average person, but just enough for him.

It drifts to an ugly tower, placed right at the epicenter of one of the most beautiful yet terrifying cities he's ever been in. Charming, and in every way a wonderful representation of the future.

It drifts to the loud yet comforting hum of the inside of the quinjet, sailing ever so smoothly into the night sky after a successful mission. Bruised, but satisfied.

It drifts to a sly redhead with one too many daggers slipped around her person, sitting next to a tired brunette wrapped up in blankets. Deadly, yet delicate. Open, yet intimate.

It drifts to a mystical long-haired blonde and an erratic billionaire, sitting together and joking about as if they hadn't just fought neo-nazis no less than an hour ago. He remembers a rush of fondness glossing over him as he passively observes them.

It drifts to a pair of warm, mirth filled eyes as they listen attentively to Steve ramble on and on about the war as if he had hung the moon. He relishes in the spotlight of their monopolized attention.

It drifts to the nights where life's not as unbearable as it usually is, as he sits across from a usually aggressive young adult quietly chatting about books they've read together: their own secret club. Warm, he reconsiders, comfortable. Content.

It drifts to quiet nights where he tries to focus on the ceiling rather than the erratic beats of his heart, images of his own teammate grinning tiredly at him, lips bruised, split, and inviting. Guilt courses through his veins, but so does heat.

Steve's mind drifts through lots of things before Bucky murmurs into the air nonchalantly.

"It's about Stark, isn't? The son?"

Steve holds back a flinch, praying that Bucky doesn't notice the red crawling up his neck. He wouldn't have been embarrassed if Bucky had meant Tony- of course, Steve misses him dearly- but for Bucky to go straight to you instead is mildly humiliating, to say the least. He can feel Bucky's eyes burning holes into his skull. It'd be no use trying to deny it, so Steve conceded with a reluctant nod.

"That obvious?"

"It's written all over your face."

Steve doesn't offer to say more, so Bucky continues, quieter this time.

"He seemed like a great kid."

Steve huffs with a small amused smile. He thinks back to when you two spent Valentine's Day together- not as a couple, obviously, but you claimed that the two loners on the Avengers team should have each other's backs. He chuckles absentmindedly. You two did nothing but watch movies and critique them all night.

Granted, it was more one-sided as he spent the whole night listening to you go on and on about how objectively, the Hunger Games books were far better than the movies, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It was nice to hear you talk, especially when it's about something so trivial but important to you.

"One of the best," Steve half-heartedly offers.

"Tell me 'bout him." Bucky isn't looking at the TV anymore as his eyes are trained on Steve's.

Steve shrugs with a sigh.

"What more can I say that hasn't been said already?"

Ever since the SI press conference, countless of people came out to say great things about you, as they did with Tony. Countless of people praised you, especially with your efforts to help society get back on their feet ever since the blip. Even random people gave their one anecdote with you, whether it be a barista that had served you or folks at Morgan's daycare center whenever you picked her up.

Nothing but words of praises and kindness for you.

Bucky hums, understanding what he means. It wasn't like he hadn't looked at the news as of recently, either. For every 10 headlines that are published, chances are 9 of them have at least one mention of a Stark, whether it be the senior or junior.

They sat in silence once more, something Steve noted as a reoccurring theme between them. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it did make Steve's skin crawl, hoping for the other to say something just once.

"... You were sweet on him, aren't you?"

Though, maybe this was the one time he wished Bucky would've just stayed silent.

It would be horrifying to hear someone accuse him of being in love with his own (ex-) teammate if he hadn't already come to terms with it. Still, it's unnerving to hear someone pinpoint his feelings within a matter of a week or two when it had taken him up until it was too late to figure it out.

"Did it matter?" Steve runs a hand through his hair, almost as if it were a defense mechanism, but he insists it's not, "It's not like he was interested in me, anyways... Not especially after..."

Steve laughs quietly, almost bitterly so. If he thought he had any chance with you before, he sure as hell threw that chance straight in the garbage the moment he locked eyes with you at the airport. And it sure as hell didn't help when he had practically rag-tag teamed up against your own dad.

"Besides... He's a man of the future, Buck. He's so... so bright compared to everyone else. I can't- I don't have much to offer. I'm just- all I'm good for is fighting."

He sighs, and he'll deny it if anyone comments on how resigned it sounded.

"Not to mention, there're other people that he'd be happier with. People that wouldn't- wouldn't hurt him," 'Like you did,' his subconscious bitterly reminds him. And he wasn't wrong- there were other people you could be wonderful with.

You and Queens already had some chemistry, from what Steve's heard in the air. There was never anything substantial, but he'd pass by a few newspapers mentioning you and Spider-Man spotted together more often than not. You two would've been cute, Steve reluctantly admits. He wouldn't even be surprised if you two were dating.

Then there were a few others, too. Surprisingly enough, he saw you and King T'Challa, of all people, together too often in the New York Times, and even Wakanda's own news websites. His Highness' explained it was only ever about the Accords, but Steve wasn't so blind as to not notice how much more genuine T'Challa's smile seemed when you were brought into the conversation.

There was also Thor, too. You stopped talking to the rest of the Avengers save a select few after the initial blip in 2018, so there wasn't any new thing between you and Thor, but Steve reminisces when he'd catch you joking around with Thor and teasing the poor God. If not lovers, you two were most definitely good friends. Steve hates the fact that he's exceptionally happy at the prospect of you and Thor being just friends.

Not to mention the other seemingly boundless amount of people who you'd make a great couple with. Maybe it was just Steve being excessively attentive when it came to you, or maybe it was because everyone's eyes just seemingly happen to gravitate to you, no matter if there's hundreds of people in the room at the same time.

Bucky sighs and mutes the TV. Steve gives him a questioning look, but Bucky only raises an eyebrow back as he looks at him straight on.

"Those just sound like excuses. Never took you for a coward."

Steve bristles.

He'll admit that he's a lot of things. Frustrating, thick-headed, and quick to anger. And knowing other people, they have a whole list to add on to those too, whether it be positive or negative. But one thing he's never been was a coward.

"I'm not- look, I just know a lost fight when I see one, okay? He just- wasn't interested in me, and that's fine. Hell- he's probably not even into men."

Steve's mind lingers back to a picture lying in your old room, back when he used to come visit you just to say goodnight, or to ask you to join him in his morning jog. He never brought up the picture, rationalizing that it was too invasive of a question. You were with a girl- both of you seemed quite young- but it was obvious that you two were more than friends judging by the way you held her and the very obvious hickey on your neck.

His ears burn, and he's not sure if it's with embarrassment or envy.

"But you don't know that, though, do you? You ever asked him any of that? If he was into fellas? If he was into you?'"

Steve tears his eyes away from Bucky's stare, feeling his eyes burn into his skull.

Sure, he never asked you outright anything Bucky had mentioned, that much was obvious. And sure, even entertaining the (pleasant) idea that you were into men, it didn't take a genius to guess that you absolutely loathed Captain America. It was obvious, too. Especially ever since the 'scandal' of you deleting any tweets or photos you had uploaded that Steve was in.

(Of course, you deleted any photos the Rogue Avengers were in, but that didn't make the stinging hurt any less when Steve had found out.)

Bucky sighs and turns the sound back on. There was a tension in the air between them, but Bucky beat Steve from saying something as he speaks up.

"And the whole thing 'bout you knowing a lost fight when you see one?"

Steve raised an eyebrow. Bucky half-smirks.

"Not the Steve Rogers I know."

He gently punches Steve's shoulder and ruffles his hair, much to Steve's amused annoyance.

"The Steve Rogers I know would've charged headfirst into a battle, even if it was just him against the world. Oh wait- you already tried doing that."

Steve rolls his eyes and playfully shoves Bucky. The amount of razzing he had gotten from Bucky- and others, too, like Sam and Bruce (his heart curls, knowing that Natasha would've been among them as well, telling Steve off for trying to pull a 'bull-headed' move)- was more than enough for Steve to feel bad anymore at this point.

"Shut it." Steve jests.

They fall into a comfortable silence again, though this time Bucky turns back on the TV to a low volume. Steve glances at Bucky, who's got his chin rested absentmindedly on his hand.

"You know... You're taking this awfully well."

Bucky pauses, peering at Steve with a raised eyebrow.

"Taking what?"

"Me bein'," Steve pauses, trying to find the right words before giving up, "Er, into ladies and fellas."

Bucky doesn't say anything for a solid minute, and before Steve was about to start rambling, trying to just get Bucky to say anything, the brunette speaks up, but timidly so.

"It's... not somethin' I ever thought about, y'know? You bein'- bein' into guys, I mean."

He sighs and runs a hand through his shaggy hair. He keeps his eyes glued onto the TV with a soft gaze, so distant that Steve wants to know what he's really thinking about.

"We just... Never talked about it. Never... Never gave it a thought. I'd be lying if I said I was 100%, er, up to speed with it."

Bucky pauses mid-sentence. He waves his hands and flickers his attention to Steve for just a split second, almost as if he's nervous about what he's saying.

"Not the bein' gay thing, or whatever. Just... How open people nowadays are with that stuff."

Steve unclenches his jaw, not even realizing it had been clenched this whole time. It wasn't something that Steve had thought would be new to Bucky, and he almost feels dumb for not realizing it sooner. Hell, even when Steve himself had been defrosted, it shocked him that something as gay relationships were accepted now. Not that he was against it- but to see that the world had progressed like that without him made him hurt less whenever he thought too hard about the old times.

"Oh, Buck..."

Steve places an encouraging hand on Bucky's shoulders, and he almost seems to sag into it.

"Back then, you'd practically be crucified if you were caught."

Bucky's eyes are unfocused, lips pressed in a firm line. Steve doesn't say anything since he doesn't even know what to say to that.

Bucky, seemingly haven snapped out of it, smiles; though, it looks more like a grimace in Steve's opinion.

"Just- give me some time, 'kay? I'll come round sooner or later. Just... It's all still a lot, even after years of bein' here..."

'To the 21st century,' the words lingered on his tongue. Steve sure knows how that feels, to be overwhelmed by the new world. It's almost suffocating, knowing how much you've missed out on, and how different everything is now. It's like drowning, really.

Surrounded by so much, too much, and at one point it even feels like Steve's being dragged down further and further away from the surface no matter how much he tries swimming up. There's no one there to save him, either. No one to dive their hand down into the waters, no one to hold onto as they pull him back up to the surface.

It's just Steve, alone, in a bottomless ocean, drowning. And it's constantly filling up and up and up and God all Steve just wants to do is get away from there and be able to breathe.

Steve pats his shoulders, pulling him in for a side-hug as Bucky returns the gesture. He playfully ruffles the blonde's hair, much to Steve's annoyance, and gives him a lopsided smile that makes the tension in Steve's shoulder loosen.

"B'sides, you're still my Stevie. Not like you've sprouted horns and started killin' people."

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn't comment on that. Once again, they fall into a comfortable silence, though Steve's shoulders feel unexplainably lighter than it has in days.

The sun's almost gone by the time Steve gets home from the group therapy session he was at. It was the same old, same old. Go in, talk about your feelings, and listen to other people afterward. Sure, it helped, and it felt great to empower people to get back up from a great fall, but it just...

It doesn't really fulfill him nowadays.

Hell, he's not sure what can fulfill him now.

Settling in, he notes that Bucky's room is dark; chances are, he's probably out right now. Before, Steve used to be worried about him, but now it's not uncommon for Bucky to be gone every now and then. Steve doesn't really ask where he's going, so long as Bucky doesn't tell him. One day, maybe he'll ask.

Regardless though, Steve rummages around in the fridge to see what he has to work with in terms of dinner. But before he could even take out anything, his phone buzzes with a notification.

Taking out his phone, still halfway into the fridge, Steve glances at the display name.

It's from Rhodes.

Raising an eyebrow, he taps on the notification. It's rare that Rhodey texts, and it's even rarer for him to text Steve of all people. Nowadays, other than any Avenging business, they don't really talk. Granted, Steve also never finds the energy to talk to anyone these days, save a select few and those at the group therapy sessions, but that's beside the point.

So if Rhodey is texting him, it's gotta be important.

And judging by how fast Steve had bolted out the door and onto his motorcycle, it sure as hell was important.

From: Col. James Rhodes.

To: Capt. Steve Rogers, Dr. Bruce Banner, +3 others.

"Dr. Strange's back. He has new information about (Name), and it's major. He's not staying for long. - James."

Pepper doesn't want to be here.

There was no going around it- as composed as she was and had to be, she knew she could only take so much before she would snap. And sitting in the compound once again, she wouldn't be surprised if what she was about to hear would be the final straw.

She had plans today, too. She was supposed to take Morgan to go see the neighborhood fireworks festival, and she remembers distinctly looking forward to taking Morgan on the ferry-go-round, too. And yet, here she is, at the compound which once used to be lively, but only whispers of her husband and son echo in the hallways.

She had already been sitting in here for an hour before Steve had finally made it. By then, Bruce and Strange had already explained why they were here.

Just like Tony and Natasha, it seemed like your fate had already been set in stone the moment Stephen had spared the time stone for Tony's life.

But that wasn't what they were called in here for; or at least, in a way that Pepper had initially thought.

Bruce was talking, and as if he was concluding his monologue, he spares a sympathetic glance at everyone in the room, especially at Pepper. She just wishes he'd stop throwing glances at her as if she was a fine piece of China ready to tip over from the cupboard at any moment now (She knows she almost is, but she'd rather be caught dead than to have an emotional breakdown at a time like this. What was it- Stark men are made of iron?)

"And besides... We've retrieved video recording of what happened that day. From DAHLIA."

The only thing in her vision is red. But she doesn't raise her voice. ('Am I going to have to watch it?' She thinks) She doesn't move from her spot as she stares at Bruce, eyes dilated ('Yes, of course, you want to know what happened,' her subconscious betrays her). Her ears are pounding and she doesn't know whether she wants to laugh or cry.

"And why did it take you so long to get the recording?"

She watches like a hawk as Bruce and Stephen grimace. They glance at each other with uncertainty, but it's Bruce who bites the bullet and speaks up.

"Because, ah... We didn't think about it...?"

Suddenly, all she wants to do is scream. Lifting a shaking hand to her head as there's now a pounding at her skull, she clenches her eyes shut.

Breathe in, breathe out.

She opens her eyes and boy, does she hate the way that everyone's avoiding her gaze. Even the ever so elusive Sorceror Supreme (In her head, she knows he's not at fault. In her heart, she wants to spit on his name.) pretends to be busy, but she knows.

She knows.

She sighs, ignoring the tremble of her lips, and dismissively waves her hand at Bruce.

"Just play it. Please."

Bruce silently nods and pulls up a recording. It's dated back to the day of the reversed blip, a quarter past afternoon.

Pepper crosses her arm, praying that no one sees her hands quake as the recording starts.

It's dark and decrepit, with a good portion of the screen glitching out. There are charts and tables everywhere, and Pepper now recognizes them as his health stats. The walls all blur together as she tries to bite back the tears.

There's rubble everywhere. In the distance are lights from fires, but you're so far down there's barely any light at all. Your face isn't in view, and rather what she sees makes her heartache even worse than before.

A gleam of metal jutting out of your stomach is front and center of the camera. It's huge- about the width of her thigh- and it's stained red. Your breathing is labored and short, obvious signs of a panic attack as the sounds of you gasping echo in the room. No one says a thing as an Australian voice speaks up in a frantic.

"Doll! Doll, I need you to breathe! You're going into shock!"

There's no response from you as you continue to hyperventilate. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Steve's jaw clench and Bruce covering his mouth. She doesn't react to Rhodey's hand squeezing her shoulder as they all watch on.

There's a weird sound coming out of you. Pepper's heart clenches, and at this point, she doesn't even care that she's crying now- because she knows what that sound is.

That's the sound of you hiccuping.

You're crying.

You- one of the strongest men she knows, an Avenger, a hero, her baby- are crying, alone, and she was none the wiser to your suffering.

You're moving- oh God, your arm- and the video feed pick up scuttering and growling. Her stomach drops even further. Chitauri.

Your other arm grasps all over your lower body, barely gliding past your wounds (oh God, please tell her that's not a steel beam) and into your pockets. There's an orange tint, barely there, but in your hands as DAHLIA speaks up again.

"Don't move! You've been impaled by a steel beam and your prosthetic arm has been dislocated- any more movement will result in an increased blood loss! I am attempting to contact Mister-"

There's the sound of glass shattering before the video camera shuts off. The charts suddenly spike unnaturally, going practically haywire as the only thing left coming from the screen is the sound of DAHLIA's voice glitching.

"-er-er-er!"

It was a horrific way to go if Stephen's being honest.

Of course, as both a doctor and Sorcerer Supreme, he's seen- and even experienced- his fair share of gruesome injuries and deaths. It was par the course, so it wasn't enough to make him want to empty his guts.

But he'd be lying if he said that he didn't at least feel his stomach curl in when he had to witness your 'death' the first few times.

Seeing you crushed under debris, your prosthetic arm hanging by a few strings, and literally impaled by a steel beam wasn't a pleasant sight whatsoever. Add on watching your scared form hyperventilating and hearing your A.I. trying to calm you down with heartbreakingly real panic in her voice, and it was downright unbearable.

And that was the best of it: there were ones where the steel beam had sliced through your skull or where you had been straight up mauled by the Chitauri as you didn't have your suit on hand, for whatever reason. There were other scenarios where the chitauri had mobbed-up your decapitated head, and Thanos had presented it to the older Stark, just as he was about to grab the stones. That one move proved fatal for everyone, as even Stark had lost his composure at the sight of his dead son.

As much as Stephen doesn't want to say it, he knew that what had actually happened to you was the best possible route that had been chosen for you.

The video ends, and the Captain leans away from the wall he was positioned on.

"What the hell happened? One moment- he was trapped under rubble, the next, nothing? Suddenly we lose all contact with him? What- did he just- pop out of existence?"

He's frustrated, angry. Stephen would be lying if he didn't feel an inkling of the same emotions as him. Stephen runs a shaky hand through his hair.

"You're not entirely wrong, Captain. What happened to him was similar to that of St- Tony," He corrects himself prematurely, "and Romanoff."

"You telling me he was meant to- to die too? Like Tony and Natasha?"

Stephen shakes his head, ignoring the seething anger in the captain's voice. In the corner of his eyes, he sees Rhodes wrap his arms around Pepper, who's sat still in her chair, staring blankly at Stephen. It's almost as if she's seeing past him for a split second as if she's looking at someone else behind him.

There's only a wall next to him. He ignores her, skin prickling at her unwavering attention, yet eery silence.

"It's a means to an end. I can't pick their fates, Captain. That's not how my powers work."

'Though, it would've been better for the sake of everyone had it did work that way.' Stephen bitterly remarks.

"Besides that, I never said he's dead, Captain. Or, shouldn't be, anyway." Stephen carefully avoided answering if it was a necessity that you were to go.

Stephen internally sighs, knowing immediately that wasn't the right thing to say judging by the 'oh God' Pepper just muttered.

Rhodes speaks up with a clenched jaw. He had been silent this whole time, but Stephen wasn't foolish enough to not recognize how even he had been bothered by the film. Whether it was because of the gore, emotional connection, or both, Stephen doesn't care enough to ask.

"Then what exactly are you saying?"

Stephen, once again, ignores how confrontational his tone is. He doesn't blame Rhodes for his frustrations; being a doctor, it's inevitable that he'd come and get used to people like this.

'They're mourning,' he hears imaginary Christine chiding him.

Stephen sighs. He's not even sure how to break it all to them, as even he's not too sure of what has become of you after the film. But regardless, Stephen reels himself back in and composes himself.

He pulls back the need to add any fluff words and says what he's been inching to say ever since he had attended Tony's funeral.

"Stark's traveled back in time; the only problem is, is that we don't know when and where."

Masterlist

Tagged: @unsolvetheheckoutofit

#avengers #avengers x male reader #avengers x reader #male reader #male reader insert #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x male reader #male!reader #stephen strange x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #carol danvers #pepper potts #james rhodes #rhodey #bruce banner

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phynali · 5 years

Note

If given the chance, how would you rewrite the MCU?

Anon. Anon. Anon.

How wouldn’t I?

I mean - okay, there’s a lot you have to keep the same just for the sake of like, continuity, clarity, and keeping the bones there.

I’d probably keep all the original movies in Phase 1 as they are with only minor tweaks. I’d fix the mess that was Iron Man 2. I’d give Black Widow and Hawkeye a movie of their own to establish their characters. Hmm, I can see that coming after the first Avengers, possibly.

The first Avengers film though, that’s where I would make the first major changes.

Loki’s characterization is a mess and not properly explained in canon. I’d put him more obviously under Thanos’s thumb. I’d fix Cap’s messed up characterization. I wouldn’t have Thor show up when he does because, hey - bifrost issues. We’d see him and Heimdall from Asgard trying to work on that problem and let them find a cogent way to get Thor to earth. So, he’d show up for the final battle and to take Loki home. He’d be the ace in the hole that helps allow the Avengers to assemble and overtake Loki.

Okay, so fix Iron Man 2. I can barely remember it but I know it needs fixing.

Cap 2 I’d leave intact. I might give Hulk a follow-up movie tbh, or rather, probably tie him in to the Black Widow and Hawkeye movie that would follow the first Avengers.

Also put more female heroes front and centre earlier on. And especially WoC.

Big issues arise by the time we get to Age of Ultron. Fix that hot mess of a movie.

Hawkeye doesn’t have a family and a farm. That was weird. Erase that shit. Don’t set up a romance between Nat and Bruce. Don’t -

Look, I mean no disrespect to Tony stans -

Don’t make every problem in the MCU something that was inadvertently caused by Tony. Because like every Iron Man movie involves a villain who felt scorned by him, and then AoU was caused by him messing with the Mind Stone (Bruce too, okay, but Bruce isn’t the one with the narrative trend here) and all the villains in the Spider-Man movies, and then there’s how shit played out in Civil War and -

Okay so fix AoU. Have the Mind Stone literally take on a life of it’s own and don’t fucking make it the fault of Tony’s hubris, okay. Make it more accidental and incidental than it was. Don’t make it something that happened overnight from tinkering.

And for the love of god, make it so that Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver did not sign up to be experimented on, but rather keep their comic origins. They’re Jewish Romani PoC. Give them a narrative that’s authentic to those identities.

I also would not fucking kill off Quicksilver, what the honest fuck?

Actually also don’t just make up a random country and code it a given way and then destroy it. I know it’s an MCU movie and therefore actually needs a giant CGI battle at the end, but okay - Age of Ultron. Stretch that shit out. Make it more clever. Show some more subtle and almost… guerilla tactics from the Avengers, taking down Ultron’s armies? Instead of a single battle in a country we don’t know about and haven’t been told to care about from a narrative standpoint, have Ultron go after their friends and families, have them fight smart and mean but no less visually pleasing to watch. The Avengers don’t have the numbers on Ultron’s army, but they can (and do) recruit Wanda and Maximo and they fight their fight using all their resources - not just their fists.

Okay so let’s move on.

iron Man 3 was great, but the whole bit with Pepper being kidnapped? Not that into it, personally. Also not into her getting powers and then getting them taken away. There was a lot to love about that movie, but so many Iron Man movies tease at this idea of Tony wanting to retire, or getting out, and they need to just back off that and let him own his heroism. That movie navigates so much so well so let it be.

Okay -

Thor 2? Don’t fucking kill Thor’s mom. Friga deserves better. Stop motivating male characters by killing women. Let Loki and Thor come together by Friga being injured, by their dad dying, by a desire to bring their mother joy - whatever. Just - don’t kill her. I’m still pissed about how much they take from Thor over time.

I’d keep Cap 2 the same, and the only changes I’d make to GotG would be -

Okay wait actually. There are huge glaring issues with that movie. Gamora is poised to be the hero of these movies and finds herself as the damsel in distress or incapable whenever the narrative needs her to be. I fucking hate it. Let her shine more. Show instead of tell. Let each character develop in their own right rather than dropping some random backstory notes in expository dialogue. Build up to the notion that it’s super weird Quill can hold the Stone and actually like… acknowledge it in the movie. You can keep the story basically the same but fix things with Gamora’s narrative, please please please.

Okay Ant-Man is great. There’s a huge narrative issue within the entire MCU with how they exclude Janet Van-Dyne though, and how she isn’t introduced until now even though she should be a fundamental member of the Avengers. I would almost like, at some point in Phase 1-3, a movie with Janet at the helm, possibly (to keep their timeline intact), her working with Peggy, working with SHIELD, with a young Fury or something, and laying the groundwork for the Avengers. A lot of what Captain Marvel eventually did, but situated fully on earth, and coming much sooner in the MCU itself.

Civil War was a hot mess. They needed to actually explain and detail both sides and the problems with them. It functioned amazing as an introduction to Black Panther and I love it for that, but it wasn’t a Cap movie, not really, and I’m bitter about it. This movie should have focused around the Black Panther, Cap, Bucky narrative, and dropped the whole Civil War with the other Avengers stuff entirely.

Actually - Civil War needs to be either an entirely separate movie on its own or else… drop it. Deal with it differently. That airport fight was an embarrassment. Let the Avengers break down during Cap 3 if you need do, but make it more interpersonal and tense, and less throwing punches and locking each other up. Make it more human, more relatable, because those were the best parts of that whole divide. Make it real for the viewer, for fuck’s sake. Don’t have Tony (seriously what’s with them making him do villainous things and painting them as heroic) blackmail a literal child into a battlezone????

Okay - and Cap issues, they need to either set up Agent 13 aka Sharon Carter as a proper love interest sooner, or else drop that. They drop breadcrumbs of her in a few movies but that’s it. It feels hollow between them by the time they actually kiss. They should either keep their dynamic as “could have been but whoops, nope” or have done more to set them up together in Cap 2.

(Totally honest, total bias here - take out love interests altogether or let Cap be the bi icon that he should be and let him and Falcon hook up in Cap 2. Let the fact that he was in love with Bucky be canon but you don’t need to set them up as a couple. Let it be recognized that they love each other but god there’s too much there, too much mess, they don’t need to be together in the present to acknowledge that history. Either way keep the Bucky and Sam dynamic because it’s amazing).

Doctor Strange - fix the casting. The racism, appropriation - just - wow. Use this as an opportunity to introduce more Asian and East Asian characters and actors into the MCU rather than it being the appropriative mess that it is. Keep the cool visuals though, and the cape. The narrative itself isn’t bad, but spend less time establishing this asshole character and more time establishing the side characters and the dynamics between them because those are far more interesting.

GotG 2 - uhhhh… okay what was this? Peter Quill is Ego’s son, but how does that really advance anything in the MCU or about the character or … ? Just fix the whole goddamn plot, I don’t even know. Tie this shit into Thanos way better. Introduce that better. Make this movie more interesting, make Nebula the Big Bad of it, honestly. Dive into the other members of the Guardians and give them their backstories and plots that they deserve. Is this the Guardians or the Peter Quill show? I don’t know I just - just fix this, okay?

Thor Ragnarok and Black Panther need no fixing. Remember that in this version of the MCU, Thor’s mom is alive, so that’s there. She’s still on Asgard and with Heimdall and being awesome, and we get some awesome interactions between her and Hel because we fucking deserve that, okay? Also Valkyrie’s bi scenes aren’t deleted (fuck you, Marvel execs). I would love love love for Killmonger not to die at the end of Black Panther, personally, but I wouldn’t change much more than that.

Oh wait I forgot - with the whole Bucky in Wakanda thing? Fucking take that out or do something narratively with it. It’s the weirdest brushed-aside thing that serves no genuine narrative purpose. I’d err on the side of taking it out entirely, personally.

Infinity War is fine, leave it as-is more or less, except for -

Okay, so we need textual discussion and canonical pushback against Thanos’s ideals. Because so many people came out of that movie all “oh but he’s got a point - population is expanding blah blah blah” and it was such fucking bullshit. We needed Gamora to point out why Thanos was fucking wrong - why her people were not actually better off after he killed half of them, thank you very much. We needed Tony to point out “population doesn’t work that way, it’ll bounce back in 50 years - do you plan to keep doing this each time? why not double resources?”. We needed people to tell the audience not just that Thanos was bad, but why he was bad, and that there is no ‘random’ and he needed to be a monster and selfish and it needed to be way more clear that his was not a sublime ideal of a detached idol, but rather the ravings of an entitled man whose gone unhinged and hateful.

Okay. So that. And don’t make the final battle just decimate Wakandan soil and its army? Why do they have to fight Earth’s battles for it? Let that be a joint effort and not just a Wakandan one, jfc. I get that you had the set ready and all, but no, don’t treat Wakanda like that, it deserves better. If ever there was a time to blow the budget on a final fight, this would be it, so freaking do it and have that battle be in space and over earth and at many different locations but then zeroing in on where Vision is (which itself can be in Wakanda because it’s safest but yeah).

And honestly I wouldn’t make it so Gamora died, like wtf. I hated that. I hated the whole bit with the Soul Stone. I could swallow it if what they did was have Gamora turn into the Soul Stone - so that she could, as the stone, set up a sabotage to Thanos.

Okay - more on that. Let’s talk about Endgame. Endgame needs so much goddamn fixing. Holy fuck does it need fixing.

Okay - okay where do I even start. I make myself mad whenever I think about it.

Five years? Five fucking years? What the fuck is wrong with you, Russo brothers? Time travel? What - just -

I hated that movie with a passion.

Okay - so the Snap happened. Pick up right after. Give us the fucking shock and horror. Give us the attempt to regroup, just quick, the intense emotions - people punching walls. Show us snippets of the world quickly, news casts etc. This is a horror, let it be one. Own the shit that you did.

Give us a time skip-montage. A month out, the pressure is on to the Avengers to fix this. The Avengers are all traumatized. Clint doesn’t have a family in this version, and doesn’t go all terminator. Thor - he wouldn’t have as much time to spiral but let him get there, let him be unwell, unkempt, let him own his suffering because goddamn he’s lost so much. (oh I forgot, I actually wouldn’t kill Loki and Heimdall because wtf wtf I hate you Infinity War, but let’s move on - )

Five months - people are losing hope. There are therapy sessions. Cap is a mess. Everyone blames themselves. Tony “if I’d only made the call to Cap sooner, we could have worked together” (also he and Nebula make it to earth fast, none of that lost in space and starving stuff), Cap “if only I hadn’t been so arrogant as to not trade lives”, Thor “if only I’d gone for the head”, etc etc. let it be clear that it’s not just Thor’s fault and not just Peter Quill’s fault - that all of those in charge of decision making fucked up.

Ant-Man isn’t freaking saved by a rat, thank you. He comes out of the quantum realm on his own merits, some safeguard, only to realize shit’s messed up. He and Janet work together with the remaining Avengers. maybe Janet saved him from the quantum realm this time? what a nice parallel to him saving her. anyway, they use the quantum realm to find thanos. Or - fuck that, they use Nebula to find Thanos. She knows shit. What they use the quantum realm for is to realize that all the souls that were lost in the snap aren’t ‘dead’ dead, they’re in stasis. They’re in a liminal space - they’re in the Soul Stone. Because Gamora is the stone and she sucked up all those lives and is holding them, holding for dear life but she can’t hold on forever (make sure the stakes are high, they feel real, the clock is ticking). Captain Marvel teams up with them of course. they track down thanos.

“but Phyn” you say, “thanos still has all the stones? how can they defeat him?” great question! difficult to answer! i’m not sure! with the power of love!

okay but really - they have an awesome team. they need to work smarter than the enemy, not harder. they can take out thanos’s generals. they can use nebula to slip past defenses. if loki were alive, which he should be, they can use his magic. if friga were alive, which she should be, they can use hers. if heimdall were alive, which he should be, they can use his eyes. they can use the magic of all the magicians in the doctor strange films. they have captain marvel.

but they will never win on might alone, or magic alone - not against a full complement of infinity stones. not unless -

have you seen Avatar: The Last Airbender? if so - you know how Azula gets a little unhinged toward the end? she’s just a kid, i feel for her, but the point for here is that she does enough shit and gets what she (thinks she) wants and it takes a devastating toll on her. using the stones, clearing half the life in the universe - that took a toll on thanos. it was a terrible choice. he’s in denial, in self-deception about that. he’s coming apart at the seams. he’s not all chill about it, he’s spiralling hard. he lost half his army too, after all. and life doesn’t seem improved. he can hear the cries of the souls locked in the soul stone (not that he realizes what he’s hearing nor acknowledges it) and it’s like the beating heart under the floorboards. his crimes have left scars. he’s not well. physically, from the toll of the Snap, nor mentally, from everything else it took out of him.

let gamora save the fucking day. let her and Vision and their stones - hell, let Loki (maybe he’s fused with the tesseract and maybe thanos did kill him to acheive that, or maybe something else) - let the stones respond to people. to quill. to freaking Jane Goddamn Foster. let the stones’ connections to life undermine and corrupt thanos and his connection to death.

is it cheesy? maybe. is it better than time travel bullshit? definitely. because it uplifts. because it draws from heroes in all the movies, even unlikely ones. people who’ve touched the stones, held them, melded with them. it assumes that the stones aren’t static entities, that they are just as alive as us, in a way we can’t comprehend, and so much more. they resonate with the universe, and thanos has done something that scarred the universe. let this be rectified, not through the actions of a man’s sacrifice, but through the actions, big and small, of a ton of people, of unlikely heroes, of those who suffered personally at his hand, at the hands of the stones - let it be the will of half the goddamn universe to see thanos fall.

let the snap-back happen when thanos loses control over the stones (he’s been holding on tight this whole time, can’t let it slip, the stones have a ‘mind’ of their onw). let it happen again right before the final battle against his armies. let him not have the power to immediately re-snap, hand burnt by the force of the snap-back, and let thor take off his fucking arm this time. let nebula take off his fucking head. let there be a huge final battle with everyone alive and ready to go down swinging once again.

and okay, i’m okay with tony dying. i’d be game for him to die by destroying the stones, tbh - taking them out of existence henceforth so they can never be used like this again, even though it kills him. i think that would honestly be a really fulfilling conclusion to the narrative set up in the first Iron Man film - the reformed arms dealer destroying the ultimate weapons in the universe.

by this way - there’s been 5-8 months or something like that, not 5 years, but why not have Pepper be pregnant, why not have a little child who’ll get to live on after he’s gone, even if that kid won’t remember him? she’ll get to live in a universe that exists and is safe because of him.

i’d be okay with cap dying in this movie too (much better than him going back and stealing peggy’s life from her by changing her history, wtf wtf wtf). i refuse to accept nat dying in clint’s place, that was bullshit and totally not necessary in this version. gamora is also back, not from the past but from the present, and with her sister again. this time nebula got to save gamora, isn’t there some poetic justice in that?

okay okay that’s all that. whew.

I forgot about Captain Marvel. It was decent, I liked it. It wasn’t my favorite in the sense that it was laid out odd when it came to falling in love with this character. Like I wouldn’t change much of the plot but I’d change the… storytelling? The emotions used to connect us to Carol. Give us more of her past from the start, before you introduce her. Give us her childhood. And let Maria be her girlfriend, fucking please.

Okay - now we’re at Far From Home. I didn’t mention Homecoming before but the problem with both of these movies is one I mentioned earlier - that the villains are byproducts of choices made by Tony Stark. That’s a problem. There’s just so many goddamn movies in which that’s the ultimate villain and it fucks with Tony’s characterization so much. How am I supposed to love Tony (which I want to?) when he’s got satellites with drones that can attack anyone he names, tech not that unlike the tech Hydra was aiming to make. Sure, he won’t use it the same, but why the fuck does he have it? Giving it to Peter is all well and good, but - they have interacted maybe a grand total of 5 times?

The relationship between Peter and Tony is cute but if you stop for a second, it’s annoying as hell that it’s built up to what it is. Peter gets recruited by Tony, mostly works with Happy and not Tony in Civil War, and then gets ignored by Tony for months and months on end, then Tony shows up and scolds him and takes his suit, and then invites him to be an Avenger when he doesn’t fuck up, and then they go off to space and Peter dies, and then everyone comes back to life and Tony dies. Why the fuck would Tony entrust Peter with this Edith system that allows him to kill anyone on Earth? Actually, fuck that, entrust is the wrong word - why the fuck would Tony put that weight on the shoulders of a child?

Far From Home is great but Tony’s post-mortem role in it makes almost no sense. Let Peter’s movies be about Peter and not about the shadow and then the ghost of Tony Stark. Please. I love Tony, I do, but if you stop and think for one second, you have to jump mental hoops to absolve the shit Tony does in Peter’s movies, and for many of us, it leaves a really awful taste in our mouths.

anyway - i probably missed stuff. that’s just what’s currently top of mind. #whoops

#i spent too many hours of my life on this #marvel #mcu #walrus #you said you wanted to read this when i got around to answering...#here you go #marvel critical #mcu critical #ask to tag #comics etc #Anonymous #long post #long post for ts

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sherrybaby14 · 6 years

Text

Who Am I Chapter 19

A/N: I said I wasn’t going to update this until it was done, but I’m a hypocrite. Still not finished, but still hoping to post chapter 20 by tomorrow and then it will be finished.

Warnings: None, this is a plot chapter (also hypocrite because I said I wouldn’t update until there was smut). This story is a rape/noncon story. Please do not read if this offends you. (But there’s nothing in this chapter)

Words: 7k

Summary: After leaving Steve and Bucky to redevelop your pills that blocked your Omega nature you went into heat. Bruce flew you back to Stark tower and your Alpha’s took care of you and when you woke up you were alone.

When you came to everything hurt. Your head and your body. But not your soul. It was over. No more detoxing. You were an Omega. Yourself. You reached your hand out to touch one of your Alphas but felt nothing.

You ignored the aches and sat up. You were alone in a strange room. You looked down and saw you were in a tank top and a pair of yoga pants. Was it all a dream? You went down and smelled the sheets. They were clean, no hint of Bucky or Steve.

You brought your hands to your neck. There were no claiming marks. You sat back up again and drew your legs to your chest, trying to calm the shaking that went through your body. Many muddled thoughts tried to flash through your brain, but there was only one truth that flashed. You were alone. Literally and figuratively. You stifled a cry at the realization that you got what you had wanted all along. You really were alone.

~~~

No. It couldn’t have been a dream. You jumped out of bed, ignoring your body’s protest and ran towards the door in the corner. When you flung it open you walked into a bathroom and went straight for the mirror.

The woman staring back at you made you gasp. Your eyes were clearer than before, your skin had a glow to it, your hair was a perfect texture, thicker than normal.

Tears started to well. This was the first time in your adult life you were looking at the real you. There were no pills in your system, nothing to alter your intended state. It wasn’t a stranger in the mirror, anyone would recognize you. Only now you looked…healthier, more alive somehow.

Before the water could drip down your cheek you glanced at your neck. That was what you were looking for: proof. You held up your arms and saw it there too. Tiny bruises, love bites, and actual bites decorated your body. There was no way anyone could have that much sex and walk away without a mark.

It was real. It did happen. Steve and James saw you through your heat. Maybe you weren’t so alone. Before your heart could flutter it started to fizzle.

You couldn’t remember much about last night. You didn’t even know if it was night. Some of the bruises showed signs of healing.

Though you weren’t certain what being bonded would feel like there was no claiming mark on your neck. They didn’t mate you.

The plan had been for them to do it together during your first heat. It had the best chance of taking. In fact, it was probably the only chance of them being able to simultaneously claim you. They let it pass.

Of course, that had been the plan before you turned on them, sent them away, said horrible things about them to Loki, to Tony. Shame filled you as you pinched your eyes shut.

They were only trying to help. And what was your response? To smear their names. You didn’t deserve them.

You were lucky they saw you through your heat and didn’t leave you to suffer. The thought made you sink to the floor. All you could remember was the pleasure and only the way it felt. Did they even speak to you during it? They probably hated you and were too nice to let you die.

There was a shake to your hand as you brought it to your mouth. Death. That is what would’ve happened without them. You were overheating and too stupid to even notice it. You didn’t know what a heat was like and ignored all the symptoms.

If Bruce hadn’t shown up when he did you wouldn’t have survived the night. What was wrong with you? How could you let it get that far? Maybe you did have a death wish after all.

Memories of the last time your life almost ended made you sob. When you were running away and almost fell off the edge of Stark Tower.

“Y/N STOP!” Steve’s voice was too much and you fell forward, your body moving at such a high velocity you skidded across the floor.

When you stopped the last piece of plastic sheeting gave way and you gripped on to the edge as your head hung over the open air. You vision tunneled in almost a spiral as you looked down at the city street below you. The traffic was unmistakable as the car horns echoed from a distance and the wind sent your hair flying. You pushed yourself back up and scooted away, so your body was level with the edge, horror spreading through you. If it had been a few more feet you would have plummeted to your death.

“Y/N, baby, please come over to me.” Steve’s voice was softer; the anger was gone. “You don’t want this. I know you don’t. Whatever you’re feeling, I want to help you.”

Steve was so gentle with you then. James too, and all you had done was betray their trust. And how did they repay that betrayal? By showing you affection, easing your fears.

You remembered how you felt after that. Giddy with love.

The sob quieted because you didn’t feel that way right now either.

Sure, you felt guilty and deserved to, but you weren’t that needy love-struck Omega that always came forward after your coupling.

Your heart hurt over what you had done, but what you were, who you are wasn’t either of those two things.

You hoisted yourself up off the floor and looked back in the mirror, tilting your head to the side.

“Who Am I?” The question sent a shiver down your spine.

“Knock knock.” The words and the sound broke you from your thoughts and your head snapped towards the main room. “Y/N? Are you decent?”

“I’m coming.” You turned on the sink and splashed some cold water on your face.

In the back of your mind you were hoping that Steve and Bucky were going to walk in, hold you, tell you all was forgiven and they never wanted to leave you, but when it was Bruce’s voice that fantasy vanished.

“You…really scared me there,” Bruce said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Fine.” You walked out to the main room to see Dr. Banner nervously looking around.

“Woah.” His eyes stopped on you. “You look great.”

Before you could respond you noticed the brown paper bag in his hand and your stomach let out a stabbing pain.

“Right, you haven’t eaten in days.” Bruce sat down on the bed and reached into the bag.

You felt almost feral as you ran over to him and took the burger from his hand, barely unwrapped the paper before taking a bite.

“I’m starving.” You glanced at the bag and hoped he brought more than one. “Days? How long have I been here?”

“Five.” Bruce glanced at the ceiling. “The first three you were…ummm..yeah, and the last two you’ve been asleep.”

If you weren’t so hungry you would’ve cringed in embarrassment.

“There’s a motion detector in here. So we knew you were finally awake.” Bruce set the bag down in between you two.

“We?” You hoped two names would drop from his lips.

“Me and Tony.” Bruce twiddled his thumbs. “You’re back in the tower. I brought you here after you collapsed, I figured you needed an Alpha?”

“I can tell how uncomfortable you are.” You whipped your mouth with the back of your hand. “But thank you. If you hadn’t found me, brought me to them, I would have…”

“Yeah.” Bruce sighed. “Your welcome. So what now?”

“What do you mean?” You could barely remember the last five days; you hadn’t even begun to question the future.

“Y/N. You’re an unmated Omega. It’s clear to anyone who looks at you. Keeping you here, or anywhere, is illegal.” Bruce pivoted towards you, his mouth in an awkward grimace.

“Oh.” You dropped your eyes to the bed and tried not to let them tear up.

First, you felt selfish. So far all you’d thought about was yourself, feeling shame and guilt over your treatment of your Alphas. It never entered your mind what a risk you were putting the others at.

“None of this is your fault.” Bruce straightened his back.

If it was Steve or James talking to you they would have pulled you in their lap, stroked your hair while they tried to comfort you. The idea made a hole in your heart over what you were missing, how badly you’d screwed up.

“I never should have brought you here in the first place, and for that I am sorry.” Bruce put his palms on the bed and leaned back. “But this is the situation we’re in now and the way we see it you have two options.”

You looked up at Bruce, silently pleading that one of them went back to Steve and Bucky’s apartment, wait until your next heat and let them claim you.

“Option one is going to an Omega house. We’ll come up with some story to explain your age, leave out the drug creation.” Bruce scratched the back of his head and looked at you.

You shook your head. That was too dangerous. If anyone ever got a hint about the Frankenstein concoction you had brewed up they might decide you were better off dead than risking exposure.

Even if they accepted some late bloomer story that would mean being paired with an Alpha, and you already found yours. The idea of being with anyone but Steve or Bucky made you feel sick.

“Option two, we set you up on one of the private floors, which you are never allowed to leave, get you what you need to recreate your pills and then you can go back to your old life.” Bruce smiled.

It felt like you were punched in the gut. Back on the pills? Back to being so disconnected from your emotions? To be a ghost in your own life? To have no room for anything but work? To poisoning yourself? That was option two?

“Tony’s not really thrilled about that one, but I convinced him. You will have to work fast and remain isolated. If anyone sees you or knows you’re here we will all be in huge trouble. Tony is risking a lot for this, he would probably get jail time since he owns the company.” Bruce seemed to fall back into his head. “Actually I probably would too since I knew and didn’t turn you in, and then we’re all becoming complicit if we let you recreate your medicine.”

“What…what about Steve and James?” There you went, being selfish again, but you wanted to know why they weren’t an option.

“They’ll step in and take care of you if your heat comes back.” Bruce gave a soft smile. “But do you think it will take that long to make the pills?”

Your heart broke. You brought your legs up to your chest to form a little ball. They knew that going back on the drugs was an option and they supported it? They must hate you. The nagging voice in the back of your head wouldn’t stop saying that their animosity towards you was justified.

“That’s it? That’s all they said?” You didn’t know why you were torturing yourself like this, but you were still holding out hope that they would forgive you.

“Yeah. Why? Do you want to talk to them?” Bruce stood up from the bed. “I can run and get them right now?”

“No.” You shook your head and unfolded your body. “No.”

You had to learn to listen to your instincts and right now your heart was saying that you would not be able to handle rejection from them in person. You were fragile enough and already filled with cracks. Hearing them send you away, seeing the look of disgust on their faces it would be too much and you would shatter.

“Alright.” Dr. Banner nodded his head toward the door. “I’ll let Tony know. Then we will figure out a way to transport you without anyone noticing, probably after dark when the building isn’t so crowded.”

Bruce left the room, leaving you alone again. Option two had been selected for you. Never once did you agree to it, but really what other choice was there?

The only Alphas you would ever want didn’t want you and it was all your fault. Maybe you warranted spending the rest of your life living like a drug addict. You didn’t deserve happiness.

~~~

“Everything about this is wrong.” Bucky paced in the kitchen. “We should be there when she wakes up. She’s going to be confused, alone. Maybe scared.”

“Or angry?” Steve finished Bucky’s thought. “Maybe hate us for taking away her old life?”

“She’s an Omega Steve. We’re her Alphas. Now that the toxic crap is out of her system she will see that. Understand.” Bucky didn’t stop pacing. “She will want us there.”

“But she has to make that choice.” Steve was getting sick of having this conversation, mainly because he was already having it in his head. “She’s not a normal Omega.”

“We should have claimed her.” Bucky was talking to himself. “She was ripe for it, practically begging.”

“And she was in heat, not in her right mind.” Steve folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “If it wasn’t what she wanted she would have been bound to us forever and hated us. I won’t do that to her.”

“But she wanted us to.” Bucky stopped walking and looked at Steve. “Before all of this. That was the plan. Y/N wanted to be ours.”

“We can’t help her more than we already have.” Steve shook his head. “She’ll ask for us, and this way we know, without a hint of doubt, that we’re all in this together. Equally.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Bucky folded his arms.

“Then…it wasn’t meant to be.” Steve pushed off the counter and started pacing. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she will wake up scared. We should’ve have stayed.”

“No.” Bucky leaned against the table. “If she is still angry after all of this it would’ve broken me.”

Steve knew they were feeding off each other, both equal parts confident their Omega was going to ask for them and terrified they made a mistake by leaving her. Right now there was nothing they could do but wait.

~~~

Two days. It was two long excruciating days. Steve couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t do anything but think of Y/N.

Bucky wasn’t doing any better.

“What if…what if she doesn’t wake up?” Steve finally asked the question that was plaguing the back of his mind. “What if we were too late?”

“Don’t say that.” Bucky sighed and ran his fingers over his hair before jumping up from the kitchen table. “That’s it. I’m going to check on her.”

As if on cue the doors to the elevator popped open. Steve’s adrenaline flared, hoping to see their Omega step out. Everything deflated when Tony walked into the room.

“Well, you two look like shit.” Tony kept alternating his eyes between them.

“Where is she?” Steve asked.

“How is she?” Bucky spoke at the exact same time.

“Have a seat.” Tony pulled out a chair.

Neither of the Alpha’s sat down. Tony gathered half of his lip upward. Steve clenched. This was bad news.

“She is fine.” Tony held his hands up. “Woke up starving, Bruce said she looks good though. Is that enough to get you two to stop looking like you’re going to beat me to a pulp?”

A shudder went through Steve as he exhaled. He was almost relieved enough to cry. Bucky had the same look as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Now as to the where.” Tony blew a raspberry. “Don’t shoot the messenger, alright?”

Steve braced himself for what Tony was about to say.

“She wants her pills back. I’m setting her up in a private lab until she’s back on them. Then she is free to go wherever she wants.” Tony kept his hands in the air.

Anger exploded through Steve. All he could see was red. SMASH! Bucky hit the table so hard the metal dented as he popped up from his chair.

“NO.”

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?”

“WHERE IS SHE?”

“NOT AN OPTION.”

Bucky and Steve were shouting at Tony at the same time. It was impossible for Steve to tell what he was saying and what Bucky was saying since he was blinded by rage.

Tony responded by folding his fists until only the index finger was up and sticking one in each ear.

Steve took a few heavy breaths, trying to hide the shake in his voice and calm down enough to continue the conversation without picking up the Beta and tossing him through the wall.

“Where is she?” Steve cracked his jaw. “I want to see her.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but she doesn’t want to see you.” Tony sighed.

Images of her flashed through his mind. The smile on her face when he walked in, the way she laughed at his stupid jokes, how she melted against him when he held her. Then the pain on her face when they were first together, the fear that radiated off of her during her relapses, and her irate behavior.

One of them was the real her. He had always assumed it was the former, but now without anything in her system, he saw it was the later. The girl he loved might not exist. Steve felt dizzy at the realization and fell into a chair.

“She didn’t say that.” Bucky looked at Tony. “You’re lying.”

“Look, Bruce asked her point blank if she wanted to talk to you and she said no.” Tony dropped his hands to the table. “I’m sorry guys. This situation turned into a mess, and believe it or not, I was rooting for you in the end.”

Steve was familiar with pain. He’d had his fair share, but nothing like this. Never like this.

“I’ll leave you two to process this.” Tony rose from the table. “Maybe take some time and then make an appointment at an Omega house.”

Both Bucky and Steve growled at Tony. The Beta raised his hands again and shook his head.

There would never be another Omega. Y/N was the only one Steve would ever want.

“Things are a little slow right now. Take all the time you guys need.” Tony started to back away.

He thought the Alphas were going to attack him. Part of Steve wanted to. He wanted to grab Tony and pin him to the ground until he said exactly where Y/N was. Then Steve wanted to show up, throw her over his shoulder, and bring back his girl.

He thought back to her heat. How she promised she would never leave again. How she kept apologizing. Was it all a show? Pheremones she couldn’t control?

Steve was so lost in thought he didn’t notice Tony leave until the ding of the elevator sounded. Leaving him and Bucky alone.

He had a hard time looking at his best friend, but Steve raised his head to see Bucky shaking with anger.

“AHHH!” Bucky let out a scream and flipped the metal table, then went over to the wall and started punching.

Steve wished he could join him in anger, but right now all he felt was numb. How had it gone so wrong?

~~~

Nine hours. That was all it took. You held the tiny white compressed powder between your thumb and forefinger.

Once your orientation set in your cells stopped mutating. It took about an hour to locate the line that needed suppressing and another eight to mix the ingredients.

Now you held the pill and wondered what would happen if you popped it. You thought it would maybe take a few days to feel the effects. Taking the thing shouldn’t even be a question, but you sat staring at it, the small white thing carrying the weight of the world with it.

Steve would be so disappointed. Bucky would be more understanding, but even he wouldn’t be able to hide his hurt.

Your lip started to quiver and you set the pill down, burying your face in your hands again. You were all cried out.

A ding sounded and you looked up from your makeshift lab bench. You got the idea you were in one of the basement levels. There were no windows, all the walls were concrete. There was a decent amount of square footage, but the bathroom had stalls for the toilets and showers. This was never designed for residential use.

Outside of your cot, a refrigerator, a small table, the desk, and lab station the whole floor was empty. Some of the heavy black marks on the floor made you think it may have housed computer servers at one point, but the technical advances left those obsolete and the floor empty and secure.

The ding sounded again. It came from the desk a few feet away. You got up from your bench and moved to the chair. An e-mail. You opened it up.

Y/N,

Hope your first day went well. Call or e-mail me if you need anything. I’ll stop in next week.

Bruce

You knew you should e-mail him back and tell him you were done. The pill was finished, you’d be fine in a few days. But when you hit reply you couldn’t bring yourself to type the words.

It was only going to lead to heartache, but your fingers worked faster than your brain and you pulled up a web browser. Without hesitation, you typed in Steve Rogers James Barnes in the search engine.

A smile crossed your face when official photographs of your Alphas popped up. You scrolled down and saw each of them had their own Wikipedia page, along with fan sites, and news stories about their latest accomplishments.

They were both heroes. Not only that, but they were both your heroes. Your saviors. Only you were too damaged to see that. Now it was too late.

You would never be happy without them and they didn’t want you, so you might as well take the pills.

You pulled back up the e-mail to Bruce and started typing.

Please tell Steve and James I’m sorry.

You deleted it and started over.

Please tell Steve and James I miss them.

That still didn’t sound right. You wished you had a way to contact them directly without going through Bruce. Even though you had a cell phone with you it wasn’t like their numbers were listed. This was the only way.

You took a breath and tried again.

Please tell Steve and James I love them.

You read the eight words over and over again. What did it matter? You were too late. They gave you their love and all you did was stomp on it.

You deleted the e-mail and stood up from the chair. When you made it to the cot you collapsed on your side and brought your knees to your chest as the tears started to fall again.

“Shhhh…” James rubbed your back. “It’s okay Doll. It will all be okay.”

You imagined Steve kissing your shoulder as you snuggled in between them. It was all in your head, but living in the fantasy was the only thing you could do to fall asleep.

~~~

When you woke you still felt hollow. A piece of you was missing, rather two pieces. The idea of taking the pill was becoming more appealing. Sure it would stunt your emotions again, but the idea of feeling nothing was better than what you were currently feeling.

You struggled with the idea the entire time you showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed. Every time you got close to making a decision Steve and Bucky’s disapproval made your heart hurt.

Of course, what hurt more was that they did approve. There’s no way you would be in this situation if they hadn’t. You thought back to your first time with Steve, the irate Alpha who was so affected by the upset Omega.

You wished that would happen again. That he would storm down here, throw you over his shoulder and take you back to your apartment. The fantasy made you smile and your heart lurch.

The smile faded and your heart sunk when rationality told you that wasn’t going to happen. You had your chance with him and blew it. Besides, you knew he didn’t want to be in that situation again.

It wouldn’t be like the first time though, or any of the other times you relapsed. If he or James would just show up you would fall into their arms, beg forgiveness, and confess your love for them.

But they knew that and still didn’t come for you.

When you sat down at your work station you picked up the pill. Again your hand shook and you put it down.

You were going to go crazy if you didn’t find some way to clear your mind.

You had no clue where to start with that but figured Google was as good a place as any. You went to the computer and searched for ways to clear your mind.

A lot of yoga stud flooded the screen. You’d never tried any of that before but right now you were desperate. You clicked the first video and went to youtube.

A grey-haired woman sitting on your floor with her legs in a pretzel appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to beginning yoga.” She smiled.

You tilted the screen and tried to sit in the same way as her.

“We’re going to get right into it with some breathing exercises.”

At first, you found it difficult to copy, but you through yourself head first into the videos. When the first one ended you didn’t stop the autoplay from continuing.

By the third video, you thought you had some of the stances down pretty good. By the fifth video, you realized there was a lot more to yoga than you thought. By the eighth video, your body was sore, but your mind felt clearer than it had in forever.

When video number ten was over the autoplay stopped. You went to see why and realized you had watched the entire series and it was eleven o’clock at night.

The entire day was spent watching youtube. You knew it had been a few hours, but nothing like this.

Your mouth hung open in shock as you sat in the chair.

“I like yoga.” You spoke to nobody in particular.

Then you tilted your head to the side and sat up straighter.

“I like yoga.” There was a confidence in your voice.

All your life you followed your passion for science, but it consumed everything and was tied to the need to conceal your Omega status.

Today felt like a small victory. For the first time, you had no pressure. No secret to protect, no Alphas to please. It was just you.

That didn’t eliminate the guilt of losing the Alphas or your desire for them, but it did give you a slight answer to the person you were.

You let out a yawn and realized you were also a tired person. You shut down the computer and went back to your cot.

“How was your day doll?” Steve opened his arms for you to crawl against his chest.

“It was good.” You smiled as you tilted your chin up to look at him. “I learned about myself a little.”

“Really? That makes me happy.” Steve placed a peck on your lips.

“All we ever wanted was for you to be happy.” Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist as he kissed the top of your head.

You let the fantasy play out in your head as you drifted off to sleep, wishing this was really the way things were.

~~~

The days started playing out the same. You sort of liked ballet, but you lacked the coordination. You did discover you were much more flexible than you thought. Zumba was sort of fun. You didn’t have the equipment for Pilates.

That was a big problem for the youtube hobby channels. You wanted to try knitting or playing the guitar or even one of those painting videos, but you didn’t have the supplies so you kept to things that required no additional tools.

Today you found yourself down a science rabbit hole. Your specialty was always genetics and gene mutation, but you were branching out. The latest article was on mutating viruses. It gave you some new theories you wanted to test. Those were supplies you could ask for and you added them to your list to send Bruce.

Maybe you could start doing other experiments while you were down here. Asking for a flute would draw attention but some of these chemical compounds wouldn’t raise a concern.

Another pang of guilt hit over what you were doing. This was selfish behavior. Tony Stark was risking a lot by letting you stay down here. You were supposed to use the time to get your pill set and get the hell out of here before anyone got in trouble.

But the more you were learning about yourself the more questions you had. How did you like your eggs? Would you be able to bake a cake shaped like a cartoon character? If you were able to splice a cell with an egromatic charge could it cause cell regrowth and would those proteins result in a patentable medication?

You knew two people who would support you in finding out those answers. These activities were keeping you occupied, but your head and heart still constantly floated to the two Alphas. Everything you did went back to the two of them. They were the ones you wanted to share the news with, tell them about your day, hear about theirs.

You shut your eyes as tears started to swell. You would do anything to hear how they were doing. Every time you almost caved and e-mailed Bruce to ask for them the fear of rejection came back.

What if they already moved on? What if they hadn’t given you a second thought? Then all of this learning would be for nothing because the result would be taking the pill.

And every day you were further and further from wanting to go down that path. So you decided to stay selfish. Act like you were hard at work on your medication, when really you spent the time learning about yourself.

It was time for bed again and as always the second you shut your eyes you weren’t on a tiny cot in a basement. You were in a king sized with both of them. The imaginary conversations and phantom touches were becoming your favorite part of your life. You wished they were real.

Steve and Bucky said they would help you through your heat again. It was impossible to tell when it would come next since your body was so deregulated from years of neglect. Every night before you fell asleep you wished it would come soon. Then there would be an excuse to see them again. You could have a chance to apologize, prove how much you loved them. Maybe it would be enough for them to take you back.

~~~

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Steve was aware of the grief cycle, but awareness didn’t stop him from traveling the circle.

Acceptance. That was the one he was dreading because that would be she was really gone. He would give anything for that not to be true. He rolled his eyes as he tried to internally bargain with himself.

The door to Bucky’s room slammed shut. Anger. Steve’s best friend was stuck in stage two. The last week was hell for both men. He tried to channel everything into the gym. Working out had always been the best way for him to avoid problems.

Steve had no clue what Bucky was up to. It was obvious some of the other Alpha’s anger was directed at him. Maybe it was deserved. He was the one who convinced Bucky they shouldn’t mark her, that it should be her choice.

Maybe if they had Y/N’s good side would’ve won out. Of course, if she was still in the building that meant her heat could come back. If that happened Steve would not hesitate to lay his claim.

Even if it was wrong, it was too difficult the last time and he didn’t think he had the level of control not to again.

He hoped her heat hit before she rediscovered the formula for those pills, of course, she was so smart she was probably back on them already just waiting for them to take full effect before she left.

Steve thought about chasing her, finding her and then taking them away again. It would be for her own good. But he knew that was wrong. She had a choice. She made it. There was no doubt it was the wrong one, but it was hers.

His biggest fear was her rejecting them and going to an Omega house, finding another Alpha to take care of her. Thought the idea enraged him it was not as bad as her slowly poisoning herself with the drugs.

Steve was angry enough he debated on calling the authorities himself. The only thing that stopped him was the threat to Y/N. He was angry enough about her medication, he could only imagine was other Alphas would think. The government might decide it was more prudent to put her down than have other Omegas hear about the pills that block their makeup.

The door to Bucky’s room opened and he came running down the stairs with some rolled up paper in his hands.

“Hear me out.” Bucky strode over to the new kitchen table.

This was the first he’d spoken that wasn’t yelling all week. Steve grabbed his water bottle and went to the table.

“Blueprints?” Steve recognized the schematics.

“The way I see it; Tony has her stashed away on one of these floors.” Bucky pointed to the area under construction. “I narrowed it down to twenty-three most likely ones.”

“And then what” Steve looked over at Bucky.

“We find her, plead our case. Tell her we love her. We’ll do anything if she comes home.” Bucky spoke without hidden context.

“Didn’t we already do that?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then we go back to the way things were.” Bucky started to make a fist. “We help her.”

“Bucky.” Steve recognized this phase. His friend moved on to bargaining. “The drugs are out of her system. It wouldn’t be helping her at this point. It would be…”

Bucky’s face dropped.

“Fine. I’ll do it without you.” He turned his attention back to the map.

Steve snapped at the threat. He reached out and grabbed the other Alpha by the throat.

“If you lay a hand on her…” Steve didn’t get the sentence out before Bucky chopped his arm.

Then he swung left and Steve took a sock to the jaw. Before Steve hit the floor he threw himself as Bucky, shouldering him in the gut and lifting him in the air, smashing him into the kitchen table, splintering it into pieces.

Bucky responded by punching into Steve’s side and trying to twist his legs to get the upper hand. Both of them beat on each other, neither of them holding back.

Pain exploded in Steve’s back when Bucky managed to stand up and slam his boot into the middle. Steve just spun and blocked the second kick, grabbing Bucky’s ankle. He was met with a slam of the head and fell to the ground, pulling Bucky’s leg with him.

They continued, back and forth. Steve would throw Bucky against a wall, only to have his legs taken out from under him smacking into the floor with a thud. Steve would roll away seconds before Bucky stomped on his face, the jump up and knock Bucky in the gut.

After a few minutes, both were likely concussed and running out of steam. Steve managed to roll on top of Bucky and pulled his elbow back, ready to punch him in the eye, but he was getting too tired and his aim was off.

He missed and slammed his fist into the floor. Pain exploded down his knuckles and he rolled to his back, wincing and clutching his hand.

Both of them were gasping for breath. Little black dots decorated Steve’s vision and he was sure Bucky felt the same as they lay there in silence.

“What are we going to do?” Bucky finally asked, there was a break to his voice.

“I don’t know.” Steve stared at the ceiling wishing he had an answer because right now nothing didn’t feel like much of an option.

~~~

#stucky/reader #a/b/o dynamics #bucky x reader #steve x reader #omegaverse #marvel fanfic

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 5 years

Text

Just Another Soldier Chapter 7

Yon-Rogg x reader

Summary: Post-snap

Word Count: 1621

A/N: Okay, this was written before Endgame came out, so it was just me speculating. I might eventually branch off and write another that follows the plot for real, but this one IS NOT CANON COMPLIANT IN THE SLIGHTEST. Also, since it was written before, it’s got no spoilers, but I doubt anyone that cares has still not seen it by the time this goes live. ALSO, as usual, this is all I’ve got for the time being on this one (as of 28 May 2019), and I’m not actively planning more. Later down the line I might add to it, so check the Masterlist if you’re reading it a decent amount of time after the listed date, but as of that date, I’ve got nothing to add to this.

“We’re going to need backup if we’re going to make this plan work,” Steve was saying. What remained of the Avengers after the snap—Carol and Nebula included—were gathered in the meeting room. “We need an army strong enough to act as a distraction. Anyone got any ideas?”

Carol was the first to speak up. “I might have a couple strings I can pull, but I don’t know if they made it through.”

“Find out. Right now, I don’t care where they come from.”

“Enemy of my enemy …” Scott muttered.

“Exactly.”

It was a matter of hours once Carol sent her messages and already there were two simultaneous proximity alerts announcing two arrivals. The others were resting, but Steve and Carol stepped outside to greet the two ships.

A skrull left his ship first.

“Steve, this is Talos. He’s an old friend.”

“What’s this I hear about you planning on attacking Thanos?” the alien smiled. “It’s good to see you, Carol.”

“You too,” she replied, happily hugging her friend. “Your family?”

“All safe. We all escaped alive, surprisingly. Many others were not that lucky. That’s why I’m here.”

“Thank you for coming,” Steve said earnestly.

“Of course.” Talos glanced over his shoulder at the other ship. “Am I mistaken, or is that a Kree vessel?”

“It is,” Carol’s voice was noticeably on-edge. “You’ll want to get behind me when they come out. Just in case. I’m not sure who it was that picked up my call.”

“Oh, now that’s just delightful.” The hatch of the other hip hissed as it started opening, so he moved as instructed. “I’ve got a ten-man squad in my ship, by the way.”

“That’s gr—” Carol cut herself off at the sight of the person that was descending the ramp. “Oh, no . . .”

It was Y/N. Or rather, it looked more like the ghost of Y/N. Her once practically glowing emerald suit was dulled by scorch marks and scuffs. Old bloodstains that hadn’t been cleaned surrounded tears in places like the abdomen and left leg.

I really hope she isn’t hurt, Carol thought.

The most striking feature, however, was her face. The warrior captain was pale, her eyes red and tired. Memories of that conversation Carol had eavesdropped on danced around her mind. Back then, Y/N had said she’d never seen her husband look so tired. Now, it seemed it was her turn.

“Y/N …” Carol breathed.

“Vers,” the woman greeted stiffly.

Carol didn’t bother to correct her old friend. “What happened?”

“I think you can guess. He didn’t make it, and I didn’t get to say goodbye. I just woke up to a bed full of dust.”

Steve winced upon hearing that. He knew nothing about this beaten-looking stranger, but he knew how it felt to watch his best friend vanish. Just waking to that … The pain would be unimaginable. He could infer that this mystery man was someone both females knew, but this woman was obviously involved with him romantically.

“Thank you for coming despite … everything, I guess.”

Talos wanted to make a remark about how this woman was Kree—a ruthless one at that he’d learned from the one time they’d crossed paths on the battlefield—but it was clear that she was still mourning. As vicious as her kind could be, no one in the universe had deserved the fate bestowed upon them by the Titan.

Cold, Y/E/C eyes met Carol’s. “I just want my husband back.”

That was all the prompting Carol needed to jog forward and hug her friend. “We’ll bring him back. Him and everyone else.”

The soldier met Talos’ eyes over Carol’s shoulder. Worry lanced through his heart for an instant before the woman nodded. It was a clear sign between the old soldiers that they would find no enemy this day. He solemnly returned the gesture.

“Let’s head inside,” Steve announced once the moment passed. “Talos, bring your troops. Everyone needs to meet to make this plan work.”

It was the night before they put phase one of the plan into action, and of course Steve couldn’t sleep. And from his ensuing wandering around the base, it looked like not many people could. Clint was holed up in the air vents, Natasha in the gym, Tony and Rhodes were in the shop with Banner. Steve could almost believe it was a normal night. If not for the hollow feeling that haunted almost everyone in the building, that is.

So really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he stumbled across a certain Kree captain on the room, standing by the railing and looking up at the stars.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The words left his mouth before he thought about how cliché they were.

She didn’t seem to mind, though. “No.”

He took up the place next to her. “It’s still amazing to think that you guys came from up there,” the man from another time admitted, eyes gazing up at the stars in wonder.

“I suppose it would be impressive around here,” she mused. “Where I’m from it’s pretty standard.”

“Where are you from?”

“A Kree colony at first. Descended from Asgardians somewhere up in the family tree … Moved to Hala after the colony was destroyed. Called it home ever since.”

Steve chuckled. “Descended from Asgardians, huh? That have anything to do with Carol telling me she could never beat you in a spar?”

Y/N actually laughed. “Maybe, but don’t tell her that. Got to keep some of the mystery somehow. At least, that’s what my husband used to say.”

“Would it be rude if I asked you about him? He’s obviously important to you.”

“It’s fine. We’d just celebrated our 34th anniversary he week before it happened. Known each other since we were fifteen …”

Old memories started to play behind her eyelids. That time on Volda, that first spar, even all the times Vers had woken them early itching for a fight. The one that stuck out however was the time he proposed.

They’d been on leave on a war, frosted planet she couldn’t recall the name of not long after finally finishing their time on Volda. She’d complained that she wanted to enjoy the local sun’s warmth after all that time in the cold and mud, so they spent part of the day dozing on the cabin’s porch.

At some point, she ended up lying with her head in his lap as he watched the local fauna walk by obliviously. The yellow sunlight made his hair appear almost blond, and made those golden eyes practically glow. “This is perfect,” she’d murmured, hand squeezing the one he had resting on her stomach.

He inhaled as if to say something as he looked down at her and seemingly cut himself off. One of those smiles that only lasts a second but leaves the corners of the lips quirked up for hours flitted across his face. “Yes, it is.” The love in those molten eyes could not be mistaken as anything else. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”

She shook her head, having an inkling of where he was going with this. “Not really. You know as well as I that it’s not exactly the norm for soldiers.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “Well, what would you say if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you?”

“I think I’d have to ask you to marry me.” She sat up as she spoke, eyes never leaving his as she moved to straddle his legs.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Yon-Rogg, will you—” She was cut off by his lips meeting hers. The scruff of his beard scratched at her skin as they kissed.

“Of course I will,” came his reply hours later once they were snuggled together under the large bed’s plush covers.

She pressed a sleepy kiss to his shoulder. “Good.”

The memory ended, and she opened her eyes, returning to the present where Steve was still standing quietly beside her. “Sorry,” she apologized quietly.

“It’s not a problem. My best friend was lost … I’d just gotten him back … He was the only one I knew back before I went into the ice.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” she tried to joke. The smile was half-hearted, but he appreciated the effort.

“Deal.”

Steve was the first to fish out a couple pictures of his best friend. One was old. Black-and-whit old. And it showed a rather handsome man in a military uniform. The other was clearly new. Crystal clear, full color. It showed the same man, this time tired around the eyes and scruffier, with longer hair. “James Buchanan Barnes. Pulled me out of so many fights when we were kids. Hydra, real bad guys, took him and made him a weapon. I just got him back. He was recovering before Thanos came.”

“Handsome guy.”

“Easy now,” Steve chuckled. “You’re a married woman.”

“Speaking of,” with that, she used her suit’s computer to display a hologram of her husband. It hurt, looking at the three-dimensional rendering of him standing there proudly in his uniform. The photo had been taken a handful of days before the snap; he’d just gotten a promotion. Mischief sparkled in those golden eyes even in the hologram, and a smirk pulled at his lips. She hadn’t looked at the photo since she woke up without him, covered in his remains. She couldn’t bare to. Even now, she felt nausea creeping through her very being, forcing her to close the image after a few moments. “Sorry, I can’t—”

Steve seemed to understand. He gently squeezed her shoulder in solidarity. “Handsome guy.”

She could only fight back a sob.

#yon-rogg x reader #yon rogg x reader #yon rogg imagine #yon-rogg imagine #Captain Marvel imagine #reader insert

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girlbookwrm · 5 years

Text

AVENGERS: CIVIL WAR

THE MIGHTY PRE ENDGAME REWATCH

it took us two entire days to watch this, back in whenever we were watching this. I’ve got a Bundle of Papers here in front of me, and the CW Bundle is by far the thickest, and that’s with minimal salt content.

Speaking of Salt: The Roommate and I had to approach this as an Avengers movie. Because otherwise the salt levels in this would be toxic, possibly fatal. Even so, ppl with high cholesterol be warned

LET’S DO THIS

1991!

Winter Soldier:

what is this

what is this please

dat beef tho

what is this op sec

honestly

NO mask

SHINY FUCKOFF ARM just HANGING OUT

CCTV???

~ooooooo he’s a ghooooooooooooost~

he’s got an extremely dedicated and very harried cleanup crew is what he’s got

OH! OLD LOGO ILU!!!

LAGOS!!

The Roommate: That’s a lot of sugar

i ain’t judging

what, you think her powers run on optimism?

is there an accent? is there not? Shroedinger’s accent.

droney the drone

sam’s lil sky roomba

i love him

guhhhh this scene every line shows character and growth and i just *clenches fist*

did

did falcon just throw steve

just yeeted him at the enemy?

god i love that

also: has steve bulked up since TWS?

that’s also on Sam, yeah?

CUT THE CHEEEEECCCCK

is this fucking NEUROTOXIN? STEVE WHERE’S UR MASK?

Steve, throwing himself into a room full of an unknown poison gas without a mask: I bet i can survive this

Bucky, in Bucharest: *breaks whatever he’s holding without knowing why*

god i love sam

“I don’t work like that no more” Means ?????????????

PARKOUR NAT

is also BRUNCH MOM NAT

“both grunting” is always one of my favorite subtitles

2 white boys fighting in the middle of the street like it’s a video game

god someone took the murder strut to heart wow that is some. that is some something that’s for sure.

give me even one (1) heterosexual explanation for "your pal your buddy your bucky"

there’s no way that bucky ever said this, right? this is just Rumlow fucking with steve, and the screenwriters fucking with us

because IN CASE YOU WERE NOT IN THIS FANDOM IN 2016, WE ALL THOUGHT CAP WOULD DIE IN THIS MOVIE

WE WERE SO SURE

wow i wonder if that will be relevant to anyone’s emotions here in the year of our lordt 2019

anyway, what bucky actually said was:

“please tell rogers... that he’s a big dumb dildo and he should wear a gas mask and also a parachute.”

listen i love this opening scene but also wanda is not at all responsible for this explosion and the fact that they act like she is undermines my ability to suspend my disbelief.

DIGITAL ENYOUTHENMENT ALERT

also, tony the fact that you are using your literal dead mom as an actual therapist is

wow

BARF feels right to me

too real, tony

it’s too real

how ARE you getting around the strings and taxes tho

Also can i say that i actually love that Pepper’s absence is this profoundly important to the story. The hole where pepper should be is a huge part of this story and i like that. i like that a lot.

WOW THAT EXTRA IS LIKE A MASHUP OF NAT AND WANDA. SHE IS THE GENERIC MARVEL WHITE LADY

more a+ visual storytelling with the elevator

I’m just so mad that they blame wanda and play that straight?

all they had to do was outright acknowledge one (1) time that the media is picking on her because she’s a woman/a foreigner

imagine that speech coming from nat instead of steve

though i do love Steve’s pep talk

again. give me one (1) heterosexual explanation

though why not have Steve say “they’re just bullies, you did the right thing” and hearken back to smolsteeb

The Roommate: Remember how i was mad at his Oscars Velvet Blazer? I am also mad at this sweater.... it looks... so soft... i don’t know if i want it on him or off him... just wanna tuch....... and wear..........?”

Vision’s Ascot is. Something else man.

The Roommate: Why is ross secretary of state?

Me: Why is Trump President

Me: I bet Ross is vegan

the roommate, who has vegan-related trauma: UUUUGGGHHHHHHHH

Nat's reaction to vigilantes: Bitch please. she is Unbothered.

you don’t have to show us footage we’ve got the ptsd nightmares

400 pages in 3 days

[tired american sighing]

we honestly can’t even criticize this plot point anymore just

[my longest and most american sigh]

CLEVELAND!!!

hail hydra continues to be the Most Terrible last words

but WHY does ross have the congressional medal of honor

do you know how HARD it is to get one of those????

yeesh

sassy black friends sassing at each other

is definitely a

thing that is happening rn

Vision: Well Actually

no one cares, vis

ok like

a kid is dead but

3.6 is an okay GPA

maybe all my friends are overachievers

maybe it’s just because most of them are women but like

it’s an okay GPA

i’d have 8000% more respect for Tony if he was more upfront like “look this is on me” especially here

are we supposed to be picking all this up as subtext, actually?

because i know that this movie ALSO had a Troubled Youth ala ant man

and i really do appreciate the Russos for relying on a smart audience but there’s a lot going on

and it’s very obvious to me that they had to shift gears 18,000 times in the script writing phase

so like, you’ve got old man vet steve

but it’s painfully obvious that he missed vietnam right?

it’s painfully obvious

and he’s v egotistical and self righteous too

it IS a battle of the egos

and no one is right

except natasha

Steve: i have to go

me: mood

LONDON!!!!

oh god

oh god no

steve god no steve oh god

gfhskfdjjjksjdjjhrrrrhrhhrhfhh [wailing and rending of garments]

Re Peggy’s age:

SURPRISE IT’S ACTUALLY PLAUSIBLE

so the True Hallmark of a Cap Movie is Peggy telling steve what to do.

so weird to have that in an avengers movie

i do love this. GOOD BRO NAT CONTENT

Um. is vision a minor? is wanda?

again, nat is the only Correct one here

stay together guys

it might be

reeeeeeaaaaally important in

*checks watch*

two years’ time.

~hug~

VIENNA!!!!!

CHAD WICK! CHAD! WICK! CHAD! WICK!

god i love the xhosa in this

There is a level of worldbuilding in this that we p much only get from the russos/markus&mcfeely. i mean -- internal consistency worldbuilding? if that makes sense? we get a lot of visual worldbuilding in black panther, but this is distinctly different and hard to articulate and it has to do with the way they approach things and how they assume audience intelligence

it just works for me

oh no chadwick boseman don’t be cry

Sharon deserves better

than being cockblocked by her own aunt

and also sam wilson (who also deserves better)

cryptid!bucky

Nat did you get that suit from jenny agutter?

LA Brunch Mom Nat

mah girl

she’s just so tired

steve (bless him) is just so exhausting

couples date sam and steve dressed to match

“at the gym”??? really? the arm is... a bit of a giveaway

i do feel bad for zemo in this one specific case

russian IS hard

how. did he get that in there?

Soft Plumboy Bucky

BEEF

Captain’s Log: Buck’s place is a shithole

Sergeant’s Log: Steve’s face is pretty

surprise bitch

“That’s Smart, Good Strategy” is an excellent phrase to use in everyday conversation in order to weed out who Knows and who Doesn’t.

What i have learned from civil war:

Captain America is a projectile weapon

further query:

did bucky ever hurl small steve at assailants?

Bucky: *punts steve down an alley*

Steve, 90 lbs of rage at 90 mph: GET WRECKED

Bucky’s got big tommy wiseau cryptid energy here

And now there’s a cat

bucky:

I love this vampire running and also bucky’s thighs

Steve Rogers: Excuse me sir I need to commandeer this vehicle. YEET.

Bucky Barnes: Excuse me sir I need to commandeer this vehicle. YOINK.

Bucky and Steve: Wrecking your morning commute since 2014

WAR MACHINE!!!

god vis has the biggest dorkiest crush

so vis are you a child prodigy? or? what?

The Roommate, a cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure: vis have you eaten anything between CW and IW?

Me, sinnamon roll, not to be trusted: *dying* *thinking about how Vision’s got schroedinger’s dick. does it exist? does it not exist? who knows.*

Me: Y. Yes. I th. think he has. eaten something. between now and. and IW. something.

The Roommate: *betrayed look*

Me: DEEP FRIED KEBAB MAYBE? I DON’T KNOW.

The Roommate: *is so disappointed*

BERLIN!!!!!!

Bucky is. So tired. Let him rest.

fucking up the morning commute again i see

u like cats??

I love the ratio of overkill:ineffectiveness with this glass box they put him in.

why did tony bring these fancy pens

the time spent explaining them could’ve been spent doing literally anything else

*i still don’t understand the accords*

GOD STEVE WANTS TO BE AN UNCLE SO BAD

“my fault”

there it is

“truth is i don’t want to stop”

THERE it is

“i thought the accords could split the difference”

THERE IT IS

"no, i don’t.”

THERE IT IS

“IT’S INTERNMENT.”

THERE! IT! IS!

gah.

wanda’s accent et al -- MAKE IT EXPLICIT MARVEL YOU COWARDS

no but really what are the accords

here followed a 20-30 minute convo about the accords

basically the summing up was:

Nat is 100% Right Ross is 100% Wrong Everyone Else is In A Grey Area

look this is actually a really good avengers movie

but

this is a moment when the back catalogue works against them because this conversation is so -- it implies a lot of friendly interactions between these two. they seem to have a relationship

but i keep looking at all the other movies they’ve interacted in like

BITCH WHERE? WHERE IS THE TONYSTEVE FRIENDSHIP? WHERE???

i am anticipating this will cause me A Grief later

The Roommate, looking at Steve in his Grey Shirt and Jacket: Damn, sir. Stop wearing clothes.

“BIRD COSTUME???”

“j a m e s”

big holt talking to rosa vibes there

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

A VAST AND MIGHTY MOOD

Zemo’s plan is so ridiculous i genuinely don’t have time to get into it i still have two pages of notes to get through holy shit.

this fight scene. does things. for me.

hhhHNNNNHGH BEEFSTEAK

(oh tony left with no suit? growth dot gif)

THIGHS

T H I G H S ! ! ! !

CHADWICK!

Sam out here, serving looks, casually modeling

B I C E P S ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

TOO SEXY! *crashes helicopter*

I need twelve more scenes of steve and bucky faffing about in the water.

A more effective restraint than the custom made bucky bottle

(BRIEF 1991)

haaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAa biceps u stop that

Is Tony having a heart attack???

he has no concept of how to treat children because he never was one oh no i gave myself a sad feeling

QUEENS!!!!!!!

“I’m having a big fight in a parking lot with my superhero friends better go pick up a child as backup.” - tony stark

tony he doesn’t have a passport and if he understood what was happening he would not be on your side

Now That’s What I Call Vigilantism.

Why are you bringing a CHILD to a gun fight

Tony’s face, to me, suggests that he knows EXACTLY what he’s doing

also? it’s painfully obvious to me that these scenes were copypasted in late stage when they finally found out that yes they would have the rights to spiderman lol

for some reason they don’t feel the need to tell is that this is avengers compound in 400 point font

i’m so lost

where are we?

without the 400 point font i can only assume we are on mars

THAT’s a fine way to greet YOUR FATHER, WANDA

hawkeye is in fact the team lynchpin

is it

ugh

is it because they listen to him but he listens to natasha

ugh

i bet it is

UUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH

Vision: I have been FALLING! for THIRTY MINUTES!

“i know someone who does”

i’m confused by the cut here, because it seems to imply that Sharon, deliberately or inadvertently, rats them out to natasha?

Birds and raccoons do not get along

steve

steve no

steve

ur timing is shit steve

Scott Lang might be the best thing in this movie

well except for Dat Bone Structure

CUT THE CHEEEEEECK

*costume change in a parking lot to the yakkety sax soundtrack*

Thinking about the coming battle i am forced to concede that Iron Man Has A Point?

“do you really want to punch your way out of this?”

Steve: I ALWAYS wanna punch my way out

god scott’s such a fukkin nerd

tiny quibble but Scott “got punched by hope van dyne” lang would never say that to the black heckin widow

“gimmick”

people in falcon houses shouldn’t throw spider stones, samuel

wanda

those cars belong to people

oh god iron man has a point

LET’S GO LESBIANS! COME ON LESBIANS LET’S GO

*catfight sounds*

“then why did you run?”

dude you attacked me in a catsuit

Tony’s true superpower is that he knows steve, that’s how spiderbabby gets the upper hand

althought god

Tony was pre-gaslighting peter

he was pilotlighting peter

*my longest UGH yet*

“Queens?” “Brooklyn”

MAXIMUM NEW YORK ACHIEVED

ant man is the MVP

hmmmmmm “we don’t trade lives” HMMMMMMMMM

why did that truck explode

also *omg iron man has a point*

tony tedward stark how did you not know how old this child was

also peter stop pretending you don’t know what Empire Strikes Back, AT-ATs and Hoth are.

why doesn’t Vis get more flack for this

hey. hey tony. you know what sam is? A MEDIC. maybe let him LOOK AT YER FRIEND THERE instead of SHOOTING HIM IN THE FACE.

zemo’s plan is noooooonseeeeennnnnnsssse

guh these two beautiful men emoting in different directions KILL ME

this doctor is just like “yup there’s a giant purple robot here seems legit”

natasha is the only one who’s 100% right

did... did the russos kill themselves in this movie? did they cast themselves as dead extras? was this a statement of some kind?

HOW did ross get the congressional medal of honor. H O W.

“you read it”

NO ONE READ IT, IT’S 400 PAGES

tony this is Some Nonsense

ffflslkds he’s taking one of Nat’s guns KILL ME

one (1) heterosexual explanation.

rode back in a freezer truck

got pneumonia

already had pneumonia

and you blew three whole dollars on some slut

(seriously. gimme one. i’m waiting.)

srsly tho, whether you ship it or not, these two are old marrieds

the red star looks weird on his beefcake arm. did they forget to scale it up?

KITTY

listen zemo is just really turned on by cam and he didn’t mean to say that and that’s the most relateable thing he’s done so far.

It’s not just that bucky killed his mom. it’s that bucky killed his mom AND STEVE KEPT IT FROM HIM.

life alert a senior citizen has fallen

T'Challa, observing this White Nonsense™: I truly should... check myself. Before! I wreck myself.

agism is what it is

god this bit

steve dropping the shield

look at him

he is Stick A Fork In Him D O N E

Rhodey really deserves better than this? He deserves development showing the evolution of his opinion between here and IW

i wish we could get more of him grappling with this

that said

gosh wouldn’t it fucking suck if Cap and Bucky got relegated to End Credit scenes in their own got damn movie to make room for Iron Man to emote at his buddy his pal his rhodey?

*looks directly into the camera like i’m on the office.*

Anyway.

Steve rogers: getting the last word in every argument since 1918.

“from the bottom of my heart: My Bad.”

#The Mighty Pre Endgame Rewatch #cacw

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ghostmartyr · 5 years

Text

Avengers: Endgame Thoughts

SPOILERS, obviously.

So I figure I’ll babble enough to keep all the genuinely spoilery content under an appropriately timed cut. Even though everything after this statement is full of expectation spoilers. The few key things that I can think about to mention are that I really appreciated the movie and enjoyed the highs and teared up aplenty.

Also that I think this is going to be a primarily negative post. Whoops.

Not because I think it’s awful. I want to emphasize that I don’t think it is awful, because I am very worried that I’m going to forget to say that.

There’s a base level of quality you can sort of expect from MCU movies, so I don’t generally feel the need to move beyond the role of passive audience member for them. Then Infinity War really impressed me, and I couldn’t wait to see how everything was going to wrap up when they really left the movie there, so my investment level piqued.

As a result, there are more thoughts than usual. About a movie I really did find to be of high quality, and probably would see again happily if planning to sit still for another three hours didn’t make me twitchy.

I liked the movie.

There are just some character decisions and plot mechanics and overall writing decisions that... really?

First thing that I don’t have much to say about but can’t rationalize having a complaint post with no mention of: Thor and Hulk.

People in charge of the movie, you had no problem including Captain Marvel when you had no earthly clue what to actually do with her. Her smile warmed my heart in every scene she graced, and while I was criminally disappointed she was not more involved, none of the material she was given made me feel like the people writing her didn’t care about her.

...

Actually, now that I think about it, this should not have just a Thor and Hulk complaint section. Like that was the idea, because I didn’t have much, because I don’t care (slightly different than the writers’ level of don’t care), but the whole...

...

Oy.

Here, once for flavor, with the knowledge that I’ll get back to it and repeatedly whine about it this whole post.

I find the fucking time skip wanting in too many ways for me to really forgive the film for.

Anyway, Thor and Hulk.

In short, no.

In less short, what are you doing.

Hulk I don’t have a serious gripe with, except my main complaint about Infinity War was how Banner (I should probably change how I name him based on which character I’m talking about, but I really just mean the entity represented by a particular actor so I can’t care that much) got used up as comedy relief. You can have comedic moments and characters. If you have transformed your character into a comedic moment, you’ve fucked up.

(See Thor in too much of this movie.)

But one of the interesting parts of Hulk’s general arc in the MCU was how Banner and Hulk were starting to negotiate for their place in their body.

Cue Endgame, cue time skip, cue completely glossing over how they make their peace with each other.

Avengers franchise, why?

I am not attached to Hulk or Banner or any of that section of the plot, honestly, but the potential of that entire element is shot and left for dead in the water. Then the floating corpse gets up and starts walking around as part of a cog of the story.

Hulk’s most interesting plot point basically happened in another movie that doesn’t now, and probably won’t ever, exist, and considering what Infinity War put the guy through as a character, my writing senses are hurt and sad all over.

Then there’s Thor.

I think he might fit into the whole thing I will soon get into about character resolutions that hit the right emotional keys solidly enough that you forget they’re playing the wrong song.

Mostly he picks up the “hole” (wrongly perceived as something that needs to be filled) left by Hulk leaving the walking gag scene party. Drinking himself into oblivion and disregarding self-care in the aftermath of an immense trauma is one of the film’s chosen humor mainstays.

My impression is that I’m the only person in my tight corner of the internet who doesn’t really like Ragnarok because its silliness felt like it was trying too hard. It’s my favorite of the Thor movies, but a bunch of the humor didn’t feel natural to me. Better than Infinity War’s handling of Hulk, and better than Endgame’s handling of Thor, just not my favorite tone.

Endgame sort of takes that element, jacks it away from its surrounding strengths, and rolls out a keg for it to drown in.

When the movie remembers to empathize with Thor instead of mocking him, there are some great moments. But he draws one of the shortest straws of the movie.

And the character resolution is...

Good fuck this is why I had to say I liked the movie. Because when I actually sit down and think about my problems with it, the rest of my brain just lounges to the side in horror, wondering what could possibly have been entertaining if such elements were included.

The very beginnings of my problems with the movie is that they kill Thanos.

I think he’s dead ten minutes in.

Then they skip five years.

Five years.

Ooooh my everything.

Okay so like, you know how you start reading something, or watching something, and your head immediately takes note that oh, this must be a dream sequence. The couple in a romance is suddenly way too hot and steamy for where the story has them in their development, a random bomb goes off, the guy who destroyed half of all life in the universe because no one can stop him in the last movie is killed in the first ten minutes of the next--

There’s like.

A rhythm. There’s a rhythm to how stories work.

When that rhythm is disrupted, the audience is left with a tangible feeling of wtf. Either that feeling enhances the other quality stuff going on, or it enhances the other Quality stuff going on, if you catch my drift.

You step into a vacuum.

It’s great for recreating that sense of absence. The world is irrevocably changed. It’s emptier. The heroes are broken. Their revenge doesn’t fix anything. They just. continue to exist, with losses they aren’t equipped to handle.

FIVE YEARS OF IT.

I have probably a longer list of things I want stories involving time travel not to do than is perhaps healthy. But maybe stories involving time travel should keep their act together better or I don’t know.

Bad Future ends are not something I appreciate, because often, they go grimdark just because they can, because they know it’s not the final future, so anything goes. You don’t have to treat it like any reality that matters, because it isn’t permanent.

This story... I would say it toes the line there, but in ways that grate on me thoroughly enough that it presses all the same buttons.

Thanos can die in the first ten minutes, and it doesn’t matter. We know it doesn’t matter, because it happens in the first ten minutes. ...Maybe twenty, to be safe. It’s early. But you have this villain who’s built up to a ridiculous degree, bizarrely succeeds in living up to his own hype, then you kill him off so that a younger version of himself gets top billing in the final battle.

Why?

I get why as far as the story is designed, but at some point in the process, this story is designed by humans. Humans who could have stopped and asked themselves if they were really telling the best version of this story they possibly could.

Thanos is defeated while his blight remains. I love saying that. I love that I can describe a story with those words.

But the initial defeat is so unsatisfying and bereft of life. All the energy of him as an external force for our heroes to unite against is bled out early, and to get it back, they really do just ship in a younger model.

Which does make sense. Younger Thanos’ motives are fine and reasonable. Just, as far as the plot design, the whole presentation of the movie’s setting feels like a dream sequence. It feels, very early on, like this will never be allowed to be forever.

Then that feeling lasts for five years.

Getting into the time travel thing.

Time travel is really hard to get right in stories. You want to change something, but the people doing the changing are products of what they’ve lived through. How do you honor that while still fixing the unspeakable evil that happened? How do you change the world while keeping the threads that made us care alive and relevant?

One thing I very much like is that Tony fights to keep what he’s gained alive. Good. The volcanic soil grew him something irreplaceable, and it’s perfectly reasonable for him to want to hold on to that, and I’m glad he does.

But then you have the other half of the story, where no one is able to move on.

My preference for time travel correcting things is for characters to either be trying to change their own future that they have yet to live through, or for them to trying to fix something that is so recent the characters are still wrangling with it as a piece of their present. I have more than a touch of “humans should not mess with these things they don’t know what they’re doing,” past a certain point.

In case it weren’t obvious, five years is pretty far past that point for me. It hits this awful uncanny valley sweet spot of people wanting to change a reality that never should have been vs. people who are willing to fuck up the world because they can’t let go.

I like superheros. I like correcting injustices. Save all the people. I like people fighting tooth and nail to fix things set in stone because these are their people, dammit.

I also hate seeing people so stuck in the past they refuse to make a future.

This movie screams both of those elements so loudly that it’s hard for me to really piece out how I feel about the story in its entirety.

I like that they don’t simply hit an undo button, and do bring everyone back in a way that lets the future that has already happened continue.

But then there’s Steve and Nat and just... fuck, dude.

Gun to my head, I’m a happy person. If everyone could be alive at the end, that would be my preference, I don’t care if it’s cheesy. But you have the choice between Hawkeye and Black Widow. The man who’s lost his family, and the woman who’s lost purpose.

Or something. I don’t do MCU meta.

The sense I get from watching is that Natasha feels like her life works better as a sacrifice. If they succeed, she doesn’t have children and a wife waiting at home. So clearly it makes sense for her to be the one to die. Her road ends to bring back the happiness of others.

Which...

I don’t know how to articulate my problem with this without moving on to Steve first.

So let’s do that.

Steve.

Steve, whose story ends with him going back in time and staying there.

Forget about how the story criticizes every movie that does time travel better than it. Forget about all the levels of not caring went into designing the time travel elements. If possible.

I do not like how Steve’s story is essentially about how there’s only one time and place for him to experience a fulfilling life.

It is the nature of writing stories that we want to encapsulate things. The perfect moment. The perfect set of emotions. The perfect time. Everything falls into place, and that’s how we want it. We’ll never get it better than that. Keep retreading that dead horse, because it was so good.

Steve and Peggy are beautiful together.

What I hate about them ending up together is that... there’s this obvious, painful belief that the world of the future doesn’t have anything left for Steve. Bucky’s there. Sam’s there. Billions of people have just found there way back. Steve’s lived in this century for years.

Reclaiming the past is more important than building a future.

Even though the story’s driving plot is about keeping their past maintained so they can have this future. Or something.

Steve doesn’t have a future. Natasha doesn’t have a future. So the story removes them from it, and calls that a clean, happy (if bittersweet) ending. They’re pieces that don’t work in this world. Their chances are gone. They can live in the past or die.

I hate that. I’m a sap who will read a million stories about someone having a single true love they can’t be without and no one else could ever compare and blah and blah and blah, but that somehow feels different from watching a character’s life play out for years, and seeing them come to the conclusion that they can never belong in this place.

Building a new home never compared to the old one.

That’s depressing as fuck.

Thor gets a piece of this as well, becoming more of a knight errant than a king. After going to so much trouble to become his people’s king and just. Geez.

I don’t think that this is a thing the movie as a whole is really trying to encourage. I think the people working on it just had different visions for what would be cool as a sendoff and so on. Tony’s insistence that they don’t undo the five years they’ve had, and Nebula’s... everything--those aren’t elements of a story that says you can’t grow and find a new place. You don’t have to keep on repeating what you know and nothing else. You really don’t.

But that feels very twisted around for some of these characters’ personal journeys, and as happy as I am for Steve getting his dance with Peggy, the idea that this is a person whose true happiness could never be in the future...

That lingers in a way that I can’t like, and colors a lot of the other resolutions.

I really enjoyed the movie?

Yay?

Even though no one cared even a little at all even once except to attempt to drag other movies about time travel.

This movie’s time travel mechanics are terrible.

They’re just bad.

When you drop the titles of that many other things that have time travel.

And say this isn’t like that.

You should. you should hope. that your thing could at least make a convincing case for making more sense.

This does not succeed in that.

How could you watch enough of those movies to know they had time travel, yet fail to learn anything about how to write time travel. How. Why did you. why. Dragon Ball Z has more internally consistent time travel.

Three hours well spent. The hours on this, maybe less well.

#Avengers #Avengers Endgame #endgame spoilers #spoilers #tl;dr

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zibizuba · 5 years

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12 TV Couples Who Absolutely Hated Each Other In Real Life

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Many individuals have a coworker they only don’t like. Generally, it’s a problem of personalities not clicking or an out-and-out distinction in pursuits and ideologies. However what occurs in case you’re compelled to love that coworker? Like, it’s actually your job to fake you like that particular person? This was the dilemma confronted by well-known TV {couples} who hated one another off-screen.

All cherished TV twosomes give their finest impression of being completely happy, lovey-dovey companions. Whereas there are some TV {couples} who bought collectively in actual life, there are many different actor pairings who hated one another in actuality. Many individuals look to tv for leisure and escapism, so it’s simple to neglect that the actors you’re watching are literally working their jobs proper there – and never each job, work atmosphere, or colleague goes to be a cakewalk.

These professionals, who needed to fake to love somebody they despised, needed to take their performing talents to an entire new stage. Generally, they have been profitable in making followers imagine they beloved their TV companions. Nonetheless, off-screen espresso breaks, vacation events, and downtime have been in all probability fairly brutal – simply ask these TV co-stars who hate one another.

Mila Kunis & Ashton Kutcher – That ’70s Present

Kunis and Kutcher are fortunately married now, however their relationship wasn’t always so sunny. After they met on the set of That ’70s Present, the place they portrayed Jackie and Kelso, the 2 actors couldn’t stand each other. For all their scenes, Kunis and Kutcher needed to fake to actually like one another after they really despised each other.

It might be chalked as much as a maturity difficulty or perhaps a era hole: Kunis was simply 14 when That ’70s Present began, and Kutcher was 21. Co-stars have been a bit stunned the 2 ended up collectively in actual life, however in a twist of candy irony, Kutcher turned Kunis’s first kiss – in character as Kelso and Jackie, in fact.

Stana Katic & Nathan Fillion – Fort

The celebrities of Fort were once said to “fully despise one another.” Rumor had it that Katic, who performed Kate Beckett, and Fillion, who performed Richard Fort, refused to talk to 1 one other after they weren’t in entrance of the digital camera. However issues on the set apparently bought so unhealthy that Katic was breaking down in tears due to Fillion’s conduct, and producers compelled the 2 actors into precise {couples} counseling. Each actors have dealt with the reputed discord with professionalism: Katic has by no means publicly acknowledged any stress between Fillion and herself, and Fillion has tweeted his support of Katic.

Lauren Graham & Scott Patterson – Gilmore Ladies

Stars Hole’s favourite couple, Lorelai (Lauren Graham) and Luke (Scott Patterson), might not have been as star-crossed as viewers had hoped. Although each Graham and Patterson have labored arduous to disclaim any friction between them, rumors persist that the 2 Gilmore Ladies stars weren’t precisely the perfect of mates. Or mates in any respect, actually. When requested in an interview if she and Patterson have been mates off the set, Graham replied with what gave the impression to be an emphatic, “No.” The 2 did publish an all-smiles selfiewhen Gilmore Ladies wrapped, however have been they only completely happy as a result of they by no means needed to see one another once more? Followers might by no means know.

Nina Dobrev & Ian Somerhalder – The Vampire Diaries

The swoon-worthy stars of The Vampire Diaries dated for 3 years through the present’s run. Their breakup was rumored to be ugly, however Dobrev’s Elena and Somerhalder’s Damon have been additionally a pair on the present. This made for some extraordinarily troublesome and more-than-a-little awkward stress on-set. Finally, Dobrev left the sequence. She appeared to look again on all of it in stride. “Sure, we’re skilled and that’s advantageous,” she mentioned in 2015 of her rocky relationship with Somerhalder. “We have been mates lengthy earlier than we dated and we nonetheless at the moment are.”

Gillian Anderson & David Duchovny – The X-Information

Not the much-loved Scully and Mulder?!? Sure, it’s true. Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny of The X-Information have stored the reality on the market: as co-workers, they’ve had their share of ups and downs. “There have been durations after we hated one another,” said Anderson, who, tellingly, uncared for to thank her co-star in her Emmy acceptance speech. Duchovny has additionally confirmed that the 2 had no actual relationship off the set.

Nonetheless, it’s additionally vital to level out that each seem to have been skilled regardless of their variations, and so they proceed to work collectively in varied X-Information incarnations within the 21st century. According to Duchovny, they now “have a profitable working relationship and that’s one of the best ways to go about this job.”

Vivian Vance & William Frawley – I Love Lucy

Maybe probably the most well-known and beloved TV couple sidekicks in historical past, I Love Lucy‘s Fred (Frawley) and Ethel Mertz (Vance) have been arguably simply as in style as Lucy and Ricky Ricardo. However Frawley and Vance detested each other. It began when Vance, who was 22 years youthful than Frawley, began voicing her displeasure about their age distinction (“No one will believe I’m married to that old coot!”) and about how imply and crotchety Frawley was.

And by all accounts, he was one thing of a crank, saying Vance appeared like “an outdated sack of doorknobs.” Years later, Vance was eating at a restaurant when she heard Frawley had died. She ordered celebratory champagne for your entire place. Evidently, the 2 by no means made peace, regardless of their pitch-perfect chemistry and comedic timing.

Jean Hagen & Danny Thomas – Make Room For Daddy

In the course of the first three seasons of the basic sitcom, Make Room for Daddy, Danny Thomas’s character, Danny Williams, was married to Jean Hagen’s character, Margaret. Plotlines typically revolved round Margaret managing the family and elevating the youngsters whereas Danny was out incomes a residing to assist the household. On the time, it was a novel idea that proved profitable, due in no small half to Thomas and Hagen’s chemistry (she was nominated for an Emmy for every season she was on).

But not the whole lot was good in classic-sitcom land. Thomas and Hagen reportedly clashed on the setand didn’t care that a lot for each other. Hagen uninterested in the present and of Thomas, and left on the finish of the third season. Thomas was apparently so incensed at her leaving that he demanded the writers kill off the character, making Margaret Williams the primary main sitcom character to die.

Patti LuPone & Invoice Smitrovich – Life Goes On

Life Goes On was a kind of reveals that felt revolutionary on the time, however, one way or the other, wasn’t remembered kindly years after it aired. When it debuted in 1989, the weekly drama chronicled the lifetime of the Thatcher household within the Chicago suburbs: mom Libby (the legendary, Tony-winning LuPone), father Drew (Smitrovich), daughters Becca and Paige, and son Corky.

Corky, portrayed by Chris Burke, had down syndrome and plenty of early plots revolved round him; a principal character (and actor) with down syndrome in a significant tv present was a giant deal on the time, and it’s sadly nonetheless fairly unprecedented. Because the present went on, the main target shifted to Becca and her relationship with an HIV-positive classmate (Chad Lowe), one other pioneering transfer throughout that point interval.

However the two actors who presided over the Thatcher household couldn’t stand each other. In her self-titled autobiography, LuPone describes she and Smitrovich as “oil and water…from the very starting,” calling him a “self-absorbed bully.” “If solely he had been a proficient or beneficiant actor, his conduct may need been justified,” she writes. Because the present went on, the 2 stopped talking altogether outdoors of their on-camera dialogue. LuPone summed up the animosity in her sometimes ballsy approach:

“We performed love scenes, we performed parenting scenes, we kissed, we hugged, and when the director yelled ‘Reduce,’ we by no means even checked out one another. That’s performing. (On my half. He simply stunk.)”

Shelley Lengthy & Ted Danson – Cheers

Ah, these good ol’ “artistic variations.” They have been considered one of many predominant causes Shelley Lengthy left her position as Diane Chambers on Cheers. It was extensively reported that she and Ted Danson weren’t getting alongside, leading to Diane leaving Danson’s Sam Malone on the altar within the Season 5 finale. What, precisely, defines a artistic distinction? Is it a easy disagreement on tips on how to play a scene? Or is it an awesome need to scratch your co-star’s eyes out? Nobody is aware of the reply, however Lengthy, acknowledging some friction between Danson and herself, insists they really got along well.

Julie McCullough & Kirk Cameron – Rising Pains

On the fourth season of Rising Pains, Mike Seaver (Kirk Cameron) fell arduous for nanny Julie Costello (Julie McCullough). A wedding was within the works, and McCullough had accomplished filming eight episodes when she was abruptly fired. The explanation? Cameron, a born-again Evangelical Christian, had issues with McCullough posing nude in Playboy, which really occurred three years previous to her Rising Painsrun.

Ten years handed earlier than Cameron apologized and cited his immaturity on the time, seemingly taking duty for the firing. But in his autobiography, he blamed showrunner Dan Guntzelman, who in flip mentioned McCullough was let go for storyline causes. Producer Mike Sullivan confirms Guntzelman’s account. Nonetheless, including appreciable doubt to Cameron’s story is the truth that McCullough was changed on Rising Pains by none aside from Chelsea Noble, who was Cameron’s then-girlfriend, now-wife.

Joan Collins & John Forsythe – Dynasty

Within the 1980s, Dynasty was the peak of sophistication and scandalous cleaning soap opera. On the epicenter of all of the shoulder pads, large hair, catfights, and melodrama have been Blake Carrington (Forsythe) and Alexis Colby (Collins). Blake and Alexis have been divorced, however their ongoing feud was one of many predominant plot factors that drove Dynasty for many of its 9 seasons on the air. And the detest appears to have continued when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Collins has admitted that Forsythe was cool to her after they weren’t filming, and he even went as far as to not speak to her at all for an entire season – outdoors of the dialogue they shared in scenes, in fact. Fortunately, as time went on and Dynasty receded additional and additional into the rearview, the iciness melted: Collins was one of many first individuals to pay tribute to Forsythe after his 2010 dying.

Naya Rivera & Mark Salling – Glee

Within the early seasons of Glee, it was frequent data that Rivera and Salling have been a real-life merchandise. Nonetheless, issues ultimately soured and the 2 broke up. Sadly, they nonetheless needed to play the on-again, off-again couple of Santana and Puck. The rumor mill claims that Salling cheated on Rivera and she or he bought even by keying his automobile. Later, after Salling was arrested on youngster pornography prices, Rivera wrote in her memoir that she wasn’t at all surprised, primarily saying he was at all times a jerk.

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thwip--thwip · 5 years

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I’m a little less incensed now after a nap and a couple hours to process.

Look, I want to say that the movie had it’s moments. It’s not like it was the worst Marvel movie I’ve ever seen. I think the real problem stems from how out of character Peter was at certain moments.

The idea that Peter Parker would ever, ever say ‘no’ to helping, when he has the ability to do so, is so utterly ludicrous that I completely dismiss it as in any way being valid. The fact that they spent time on it and this idea that Peter wanted a vacation? Just. Doesn’t make any sense. That’s Peter’s whole problem, he doesn’t know HOW to take care of himself first. That is one of May’s primary functions as a loving, supportive character, to be a safe place for Peter and show him that he deserves to be a person first and Spiderman second.

The fact that they had May pushing him back out there when he’s having panic attacks at the mention of Tony is INSANE and I’m frothing at the mouth for this insult to May’s character. She’d be the fucking first in line to tell him to put that shit AWAY and focus on himself for more than five seconds.

HE DIED. HE WENT TO SPACE AND HE DIED AND IT’S BARELY BEEN A YEAR AND MAY IS SHOVING HIS SPANDEX IN HIS SUITCASE AFTER PETER EXPLICITLY SAYS HE DOESN’T WANT TO FIGHT ANY CRIME THIS SUMMER ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME MARVEL THIS IS INSANE

Ahem. Maybe I wasn’t as calm as I thought.

So there’s that. It invalidates half the plot for me, because I’m not watching Peter Parker anymore. I don’t know who the fuck this character is, who has to be tricked into helping avoid the end of the world. Like, I’m sorry, how the fuck do you go four movies telling me Peter will do anything to help, no matter the cost, no matter if he fucking dies in space on an alien planet, and suddenly the world might literally end and he can’t because he’s on a school trip.

Eat my entire ass, Marvel, you don’t even deserve to look in Peter Parker’s general direction.

There are plenty of other moments like this - Peter giving Mysterio EDITH, for a big one. Peter would never. He just never fucking would. He’s not that stupid, and you can’t convince me that he is, especially considering how fast everything feels. He didn’t!!!! actually!!!! bond with!!!! quentin!!!!

They kept saying in press that Peter and Quentin become friends but I’m like??? bitch where??? where the fuck is that development because it wasn’t in the movie I just watched. Then again, am I the fool for expecting important details to be included in a Marvel movie at this point?

Anyway, yeah, prime example of Peter being forced to do something for the sake of plot, at the expense of his character (don’t worry, they don’t stop there). Great job executing disgusting character assassination on one of your most beloved characters. I’m beyond grossed out at this point, thanks.

The other big problem I have is the identity reveal. Hello? What the fuck was that? How the entire hell are you going to dig yourself out of this hole, marvel, you dumb stupid fucks? Oh, wait, you’re NOT.

That scene was what really cinched it for me, that the movie was total unsalvageable garbage. YOU DO NOT OUT SPIDERMAN. Without a secret identity, Peter isn’t Peter anymore (as if they needed to make it any more clear that they were intent on destroying Peter Parker). He can’t have a normal life, or whatever passes for one these days, which is so fucking central to his character. And they just...ripped it away, and how is he supposed to recover from that? The Peter that I know? Fucking panic attacks out the wazoo, but are they going to let Peter be Peter? No, of course not.

I love Tom. This is nothing against him, I’ve loved him since the moment I laid eyes on him in Civil War. But this Peter is not Peter anymore, and I completely disregard Far From Home as interminable, horrendous garbage. If I had any faith left after Endgame it really is gone now, Marvel. So congratulations on tearing down your entire franchise in the span of two movies. The only thing you even have a chance of selling me now is Ant-Man, and even then, maybe not.

Guess I’ll wait for the reboot. At least I’ll always have Spiderverse.

#discourse #far from home #spiderman ffh spoilers #here be my thoughts #i really dont think you can change my mind #ive loved spiderman for a loooong time #i know peter parker #marvel #mcu #i speaketh #this aint it sis

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maximelebled · 6 years

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Growing Pains - Zelda, Tony Hawk, The Sims, games and related memories from my formative years

This blog post is about my personal history with video games, how they influenced me growing up, how they sometimes helped me, and more or less an excuse to write about associated memories with them.

This is a very straightforward intro, because I’ve had this post sitting as a draft for ages, trying to glue all of it cohesively, but I’m not a very good writer, so I never really succeeded. Some of these paragraphs date back at least one year.

And I figured I should write about a lot of this as long as I still remember clearly, or not too inaccurately. Because I know that I don’t remember my earliest ever memory. I only remember how I remember it. So I might as well help my future self here, and give myself a good memento.

Anyway, the post is a kilometer long, so it’ll be under this cut.

My family got a Windows 95 computer when I was 3 years old. While I don’t remember this personally, I’m told that one of the first things I ever did with it was mess up with the BIOS settings so badly that dad’s computer-expert friend had to be invited to repair it. (He stayed for dinner as a thank you.)

It was that off-white plastic tower, it had a turbo button, and even a 4X CD reader! Wow! And the CRT monitor must have been... I don’t remember what it was, actually. But I do once remember launching a game at a stupidly high resolution: 1280x1024! And despite being a top-down 2D strategy, it ran VERY slowly. Its video card was an ATI Rage. I had no idea what that really meant that at the time, but I do recall that detail nonetheless.

Along with legitimately purchased games, the list of which I can remember:

Tubular Worlds

Descent II

Alone in the Dark I & III

Lost Eden

Formula One (not sure which game exactly)

Heart of Darkness

(and of course the famous Adibou/Adi series of educational games)

... we also had what I realize today were cracked/pirated games, from the work-friend that had set up the family computer. I remember the following:

Age of Empires I (not sure about that one, I think it might have been from a legitimate “Microsoft Plus!” disc)

Nightmare Creatures (yep, there was a PC port of that game)

Earthworm Jim (but without any music)

The Fifth Element

Moto Racer II

There are a few other memorable games, which were memorable in most aspects, except their name. I just cannot remember their name. And believe me, I have looked. Too bad! Anyway, in this list, I can point out a couple games that made a big mark on me.

First, the Alone in the Dark trilogy. It took me a long time to beat them. I still remember the morning I beat the third game. I think it was in 2001 or 2002.

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There was a specific death in it which gave me nightmares for a week. You shrink yourself to fit through a crack in a wall, but it’s possible to let a timer run out—or fall down a hole—and this terrifying thing happens (16:03). I remember sometimes struggling to run the game for no reason; something about DOS Extended Memory being too small.

I really like the low-poly flat-shaded 3D + hand-drawn 2D style of the game, and it’d be really cool to see something like that pop up again. After the 8-bit/16-bit trend, there’s now more and more games paying tribute to rough PS1-style 3D, so maybe this will happen? Maybe I’ll have to do it myself? Who knows!

Second, Lost Eden gave me a taste for adventure and good music, and outlandish fantasy universes. Here’s the intro to the game:

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A lot of the game is very evocative, especially its gorgeous soundtrack, and you spend a lot of time trekking through somewhat empty renders of landscapes. Despite being very rough early pre-rendered 3D, those places were an incredible journey in my young eyes. If you have some time, I suggest either playing the game (it’s available on Steam) or watching / skimmering through this “longplay” video. Here are some of my personal highlights: 25:35, 38:05, 52:15 (love that landscape), 1:17:20, 1:20:20 (another landscape burned in my neurons), 2:12:10, 2:55:30, 3:01:18. (spoiler warning)

But let’s go a couple years back. Ever since my youngest years, I was very intrigued by creation. I filled entire pocket-sized notebooks with writing—sometimes attempts at fiction, sometimes daily logs like the weather reports from the newspaper, sometimes really bad attempts at drawing. I also filled entire audio tapes over and over and OVER with “fake shows” that my sister and I would act out. The only thing that survived is this picture of 3-year-old me with the tape player/recorder.

It also turns out that the tape recorder AND the shelf have both survived.

(I don’t know if it still works.)

On Wednesday afternoons (school was off) and on the week-ends, I often got to play on the family computer, most of the time with my older brother, who’s the one who introduced me to... well... all of it, really. (Looking back on the games he bought, I can say he had very good tastes.)

Moto Racer II came with a track editor. It was simple but pretty cool to play around with. You just had to make the track path and elevation; all the scenery was generated by the game. You could draw impossible tracks that overlapped themselves, but the editor wouldn’t let you save them. However, I found out there was a way to play/save them no matter what you did, and I got to experiment with crazy glitches. 85 degree inclines that launched the bike so high you couldn’t see the ground anymore? No problem. Tracks that overlapped themselves several times, causing very strange behaviour at the meeting points? You bet. That stuff made me really curious about how video games worked. I think a lot of my initial interest in games can be traced back to that one moment I figured out how to exploit the track editor...

There was also another game—I think it was Tubular Worlds—that came on floppy disks. I don’t remember what exactly lead me to do it, but I managed to edit the text that was displayed by the installer... I think it was the license agreement bit of it. That got me even more curious as to how computers worked.

Up until some time around my 13th or 14th birthday, during summer break (the last days of June to the first days of September for French pupils), my sister and I would always go on vacation at my grandparents’ home.

The very first console game I ever played was The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past on my cousin’s Super Nintendo, who also usually stayed with us. Unlike us, he had quite a few consoles available to him, and brought a couple along. My first time watching and playing this game was absolutely mind-blowing to me. An adventure with a huge game world to explore, so many mysterious things at every corner. “Why are you a pink rabbit now?” “I’m looking for the pearl that will help me not be that.”

Growing up and working in the games industry has taken the magic out of many things in video games... and my curiosity for the medium (and its inner workings) definitely hasn’t helped. I know more obscure technical trivia about older games than I care to admit. But I think this is what is shaping my tastes in video games nowadays... part of it is that I crave story-rich experiences that can bring me back to a, for lack of a better term, “child-like” wonderment. And I know how weird this is going to sound, but I don’t really enjoy “pure gameplay” games as much for that reason. Some of the high-concept ones are great, of course (e.g. Tetris), but I usually can’t enjoy others without a good interwoven narrative. I can’t imagine I would have completed The Talos Principle had it consisted purely of the puzzles without any narrative beats, story bits, and all that. What I’m getting at is, thinking about it, I guess I tend to value the “narrative” side of games pretty highly, because, to me, it’s one of the aspects of the medium that, even if distillable to some formulas, is inherently way more “vague” and “ungraspable”. You can do disassembly on game mechanics and figure out even the most obsure bits of weird technical trivia. You can’t do that to a plot, a universe, characters, etc. or at least nowhere near to the same extent.

You can take a good story and weave it into a number of games, but the opposite is not true. It’s easy to figure out the inner working of gameplay mechanics, and take the magic out of them, but it’s a lot harder to do that for a story, unless it’s fundamentally flawed in some way.

Video games back then seemed a lot bigger than they actually were.

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I got Heart of Darkness as a gift in 1998 or 1999. We used to celebrate Christmas at my grandparents’, so I had to wait a few days to be back home, and to able to put the CD in the computer. But boy was it worth it! Those animated cutscenes! The amazing pixel art animations! The amazing and somewhat disturbing variety of ways in which you can die, most of which gruesome and mildly graphic! And of course, yet again... a strange and outlandish universe that just scratches my itch for it. Well, one of which that forged my taste for them.

I can’t remember exactly when it happened or what it was, but I do remember that at some point we visited some sort of... exposition? Exhibit? Something along those lines. And it had a board games & computer games section. The two that stick out in my mind were Abalone (of which I still have the box somewhere) and what I think was some sort of 2D isometric (MMO?) RPG. I wanna say it was Ultima Online but I recall it looking more primitive than that (it had small maps whose “void” outside them was a single blueish color).

In my last two years of elementary school, there was one big field trip per year. They lasted two weeks, away from family. The first one was to the Alps. The second one was... not too far from where I live now, somewhere on the coast of Brittany! I have tried really hard to find out exactly where it was, as I remember the building and facilities really well, but I was never able to find it again. On a couple occasions, we went on a boat with some kind of... algae harvesters? The smell was extremely strong (burning itself into my memory) and made me sick. The reason I bring them up is because quite a few of my classmates had Game Boy consoles, most of them with, you know, all those accessories, especially the little lights. I remember being amazed at the transparent ones. Play was usually during the off-times, and I watched what my friends were up to, with, of course, a bit of jealousy mixed in. The class traveled by bus, and it took off in the middle of the night; something like 3 or 4 in the morning? It seemed like such a huge deal at the time! Now here I am, writing THESE WORDS at 03:00. Anyway, most of my classmates didn’t fall back asleep and those that had a Game Boy just started playing on them. One of my classmates, however, handed me his whole kit and I got to do pretty much what I wanted with it, with the express condition that I would not overwrite any of his save files. I remember getting reasonably far in Pokémon before I had to give it back to him and my progress was wiped.

During the trip to the Alps, I remember seeing older kids paying for computer time; there was a row of five computers in a small room... and they played Counter-Strike. I had absolutely no idea what it was, and I would forget about it until the moment I’m writing these words, but I was watching with much curiosity.

The first time I had my own access to console games was in 2001. The first Harry Potter film had just come out, and at Christmas, I was gifted a Game Boy Advance with the first official game. I just looked it up again and good god, it’s rougher than I remember. The three most memorable GBA games which I then got to play were both Golden Sun(s) and Sword of Mana... especially the latter, with its gorgeous art direction. My dad had a cellphone back then, and I remember sneakily going on there to look up a walkthrough for a tricky part of Golden Sun’s desert bit. Cellphones had access to something called “WAP” internet... very basic stuff, but of course still incredible to me back then.

I eventually got to play another Zelda game on my GBA: Link’s Awakening DX. I have very fond memories of that one because I was bed-ridden with a terrible flu. My fever ran so high that I started having some really funky dreams, delirious half-awake hallucinations/feelings, and one night, I got so hot that I stumbled out of bed and just laid down against the cold tile of the hallway. At 3 in the morning! A crazy time! (Crazy for 11-year-old me.)

(The fever hallucinations were crazy. My bedroom felt like it was three times at big, and I was convinced that a pack of elephants were charging at me from the opposite corner. The “night grain” of my vision felt sharper, amplified. Every touch, my sore body rubbing against the bed covers felt like it was happening twice as much. You know that “Heavy Rain with 300% facial animation” video? Imagine that, but as a feverish feeling. The dreams were on another level entirely. I could spend pages on them, but suffice to say that’s when I had my first dream where I dreamed of dying. There were at least two, actually. The first one was by walking down a strange, blueish metal corridor, then getting in an elevator, and then feeling that intimate convinction that it was leading me to passing over. The second one was in some Myst-like world, straight out of a Roger Dean cover, with some sort of mini-habitat pods floating on a completely undisturbed lake. We were just trapped in them. It just felt like some kind of weird afterlife.)

I also eventually got to play the GBA port of A Link To The Past. My uncle was pretty amused by seeing me play it, as he’d also played the original on SNES before I’d even been born. I asked him for help with a boss (the first Dark World one), but unfortunately, he admitted he didn’t remember much of the game.

We had a skiing holiday around this time. I don’t remember the resort’s or the town’s name, but its sights are burned in my memory. Maybe it’s because, shortly after we arrived, and we went to the ski rental place, I almost fainted and puked on myself, supposedly from the low oxygen. It also turned out that the bedroom my parents had rented unexpectedly came with a SNES in the drawer under the tiny TV. The game: Super Mario World. I got sick at one point and got to stay in and play it. This was also the holiday where I developed a fondness for iced tea, although back then the most common brand left an awful aftertaste in your mouth that just made you even more thirsty.

We got a new PC in December of 2004. Ditching the old Windows 98 SE (yep, the OS had been upgraded in... 2002, I think?). Look at how old-school this looks. The computer office room was in the basement. Even with the blur job that I applied to the monitor for privacy reasons, you can still tell that this is the XP file explorer:

A look at what the old DSLR managed to capture on the shelf reveals some more of the games that were available to me back then: a bunch of educational software, The Sims 2, and SpellForce Gold.

I might be misremembering but I think they were our Christmas gifts for that year; we both got to pick one game. I had no idea what I wanted, really, but out of all the boxes at (what I think was) the local Fnac store, it was SpellForce that stood out to me the most. Having watched Lord of the Rings the year prior might have been a factor. I somewhat understood Age of Empires years before that, but SpellForce? Man, I loved the hell out of SpellForce. Imagine a top-down RPG that can also be played from a third-person perspective. And with the concept of... hero units... wait a second... now that reminds me of Dota.

Imagine playing a Dota hero with lots of micro-management and being able to build a whole base on new maps. And sometimes visiting very RPG-ish sections (my favorites!) with very little top-down strategy bits, towns, etc. like Siltbreaker. I guess this game was somewhat like an alternate, single-player Dota if you look at it from the right angle. (Not the third-person one.)

I do remember being very excited when I found out that it, too, came with a level editor. I never figured it out, though. I only ever got as far as making a nice landscape for my island, and that was it!

A couple weeks after, it was Christmas; my sister and I got our first modern PC game: The Sims 2. It didn’t run super well—most games didn’t, because the nVidia GeForce FX 5200 wasn’t very good. But that didn’t stop me or my sister from going absolutely nuts with the game. This video has the timestamp of 09 January 2005, and it is the first video I’ve ever made with a computer. Less than two weeks after we got the game, I was already neck-deep in creating stuff.

Not that it was particularly good, of course. This is a video that meets all of the “early YouTube Windows Movie Maker clichés”.

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Speaking of YouTube, I did register an account there pretty early on, in August of 2006. I’ve been through all of it. I remember every single layout change. I also started using Sony Vegas around that time. It felt so complex and advanced back then! And I’m still using it today. Besides Windows, Vegas Pro is very likely to be the piece of software that I’ve been using for the longest time.

I don’t have a video on YouTube from before 2009, because I decided to delete all of them out of embarassment. They were mostly Super Mario 64 machinima. It’s as bad as it sounds. The reason I bring that up right now, though, is that it makes the “first” video of my account the last one I made with the Sims 2.

But before I get too far ahead with my early YouTube days, let me go backwards a bit. We got hooked up to the Internet some time in late 2005. It was RTC (dialup), 56 kbps. my first steps into the Internet led me to the Cube engine. Mostly because back then my dad would purchase computer magazines (which were genuinely helpful back then), and came with CDs of common downloadable software for those without Internet connections. One of them linked to Cube. I think it was using either this very same screenshot, or a very similar one, on the same map.

The amazing thing about Cube is not only that it was open-source and moddable, but had map editing built-in the game. The mode was toggled on with a single key press. You could even edit maps cooperatively with other people. Multiplayer mapping! How cool is that?! And the idea of a game that enabled so much creation was amazing to me, so I downloaded it right away. (Over the course of several hours, 30 MiB being large for dialup.)

I made lots of bad maps that never fulfilled the definition of “good level” or “good gameplay”, not having any idea how “game design” meant, or what it even was. But I made places. Places that I could call my own. “Virtual homes”. I still distinctively remember the first map I ever made, even though no trace of it survives to this day. In the second smallest map size possible, I’d made a tower surrounded by a moat and a few smaller cozy towers, with lots of nice colored lighting. This, along with the distinctive skyboxes and intriguing music, made me feel like I’d made my home in a strange new world.

At some point later down the line, I made a kinda-decent singleplayer level. It was very linear, but one of the two lead developers of the game played it and told me he liked it a lot! Of course, half of that statement was probably “to be nice”, but it was really validating and encouraging. And I’m glad they were like that. Because I remember being annoying to some other mappers in the Sauerbraten community (the follow-up to Cube, more advanced technically), who couldn’t wrap their heads around my absolutely god awful texturing work and complete lack of level “design”. Honestly, sometimes, I actually kinda feel like trying to track a couple of them down and being like, “yeah, remember that annoying kid? That was me. Sorry you had to deal with 14-year-old me.”

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At some point, I stumbled upon a mod called Cube Legends. It was a heavily Zelda-inspired “total conversion”; a term reserved for mods that are the moddiest mods and try to take away as much of the original foundation as possible. It featured lots of evocative MIDI music by the Norwegian composer Bjørn Lynne. Fun fact: the .mid files are still available officially from his website!

This was at the crossroad of many of my interests. It was yet another piece of the puzzle. As a quick side note, this is why Zelda is the first series that I name in the title of this post, even though I... never really thought of myself as a Zelda fan. It’s not that it’s one of the game series that I like the most, it’s just that, before I started writing this, I’d never realized how far-reaching its influence had been in my life, both in overt and subtle ways, especially during my formative years.

And despite how clearly unfinished, how much of a “draft” Cube Legends was, I could see what it was trying to do. I could see the author’s intent. And I’m still listening to Bjørn Lynne’s music today.

The Cube Engine and its forums were a big part of why I started speaking English so well. Compared to most French people, I mean. We’re notoriously bad with the English language, and so was I up until then. But having this much hands-on practice proved to be immensely valuable. And so, I can say that the game and its community have therefore had long-lasting impacts in my life.

I also tried out a bunch of N64 games via emulation, bringing me right back in that bedroom at my grandparents’ house, with my cousin. Though he did not have either N64 Zelda game back then.

The first online forum I ever joined was a Zelda fan site’s. There are two noteworthy things to say here:

It was managed by a woman who, during my stay in the community, graduated from her animation degree. At this stage I had absolutely no idea that this was going to be the line of work I would eventually pursue!

I recently ran into the former head moderator of the forums. (I don’t know when the community died.) One of the Dota players on my friends list invited him because I was like “hmm, I wanna go as 3, not as 2 players today”. His nickname very vaguely reminded me of something, a weird hunch I couldn’t place. Half an hour into the game, he said “hey Max... this might be a long shot, but did you ever visit [forum]?” and then I immediately yelled “OH MY GOD—IT IS YOU.” The world is a small place.

Access to the computer was sometimes tricky. I didn’t always have good grades, and of course, “punishment” (not sure the word is appropriate, hence the quotes, but you get the idea) often involved locking me out of the computer room. Of course, most times, I ended up trying to find the key instead. I needed my escape from the real world. (You better believe it’s Tangent Time.)

I was always told I was the “smart kid”, because I “understood things faster” than my classmates. So they made me skip two grades ahead. This made me enter high school at nine years old. The consequences were awful (I was even more of the typical nerdy kid that wouldn’t fit in), and I wish it had never happened. Over the years, I finally understood: I wasn’t more intelligent. I merely had the chance to have been able to grow up with an older brother who’d instilled a sense of curiosity, critical thinking, and taste in books that were ahead of my age and reading level. This situation—and its opposite—is what I believe accounts for the difference in how well kids get to learn. It’s not innate talent, it’s not genetics (as some racists would like you to believe). It’s parenting and privilege.

And that’s why I’ll always be an outspoken proponent for any piece of media that tries to instill critical thinking and curiosity in its viewer, reader, or player.

But I digress.

Well, I’ve been digressing a lot, really, but games aren’t everything and after all, this post is about the context in which I played those games. Otherwise I reckon I would’ve just made a simple list.

I eventually got a Nintendo DS for Christmas, along with Mario Kart DS. My sister had gotten her own just around the time when it released... she had the Nintendogs bundle. We had also upgraded to proper ADSL, what I think was about a ~5 megabits download speed. The Nintendo DS supported wi-fi, which was still relatively rare compared to today. In fact, Nintendo sold a USB wireless adapter to help with that issue—our ISP-supplied modem-router did not have any wireless capabilities. I couldn’t get it the adapter work and I remember I got help from a really kind stranger who knew a lot about networking—to a point that it seemed like wizardry to me.

I remember I got a “discman” as a gift some time around that point. In fact, I still have it. Check out the stickers I put on it! I think those came from the Sims 2 DVD box and/or one of its add-ons.

I burned a lot of discs. In fact, in the stack of burned CDs/DVDs that I found (with the really bad Sims movies somewhere in there), I found at least three discs that had the Zelda album Hyrule Symphony burned in, each with different additional tracks. Some were straight-up MIDI files from vgmusic.com...! And speaking (again) of Zelda, when the Wii came out, Twilight Princess utterly blew my mind. I never got the game or the console, but damn did I yearn badly for it. I listened to the main theme of the game a lot, which didn’t help. I eventually got to play the first few hours at a friend’s place.

At some point, we’d upgraded the family computer to something with a bit more horsepower. It had a GeForce 8500 GT inside, which was eventually upgraded to a 9600 GT after the card failed for some reason. It could also dual-boot between XP and Vista. I stuck with that computer until 2011.

We moved to where I currently live in 2007. I’ve been here over a decade! And before we’d even fully finished unpacking, I was on the floor of the room that is now my office, with the computer on the ground and the monitor on a cardboard box, playing a pirated copy of... Half-Life! It was given to me by my cousin. It took me that long to find out about the series. It’s the first Valve game I played. I also later heard about the Orange Box, but mostly about Portal. Which I also pirated and played. I distinctly remember being very puzzled by the options menu: I thought it was glitched or broken, as changing settings froze the game. Turns out the Source engine had to chug for a little while, like a city car in countryside mud, as it reloaded a bunch of stuff. Patience is a virtue...

But then, something serious happened.

In the afternoon of 25 December 2007, I started having a bit of a dull stomach pain. I didn’t think much of it. Figured maybe I’d eaten too many Christmas chocolates and it’d go away. It didn’t. It progressively deteriorated into a high fever where I had trouble walking and my tummy really hurt; especially if you pressed on it. My parents tried to gently get me to eat something nice on New Year’s Eve, but it didn’t stay in very long. I could only feed myself with lemonade and painkiller. Eventually, the doctor decided I should get blood tests done as soon as possible. And I remember that day very clearly.

I was already up at 6:30 in the morning. Back then, The Daily Show aired on the French TV channel Canal+, so I was watching that, lying in the couch while waiting for my mom to get up and drive me to my appointment, at 7:00. It was just two streets away, but there was no way I could walk there. At around noon, the doctor called and told my mom: “get your son to the emergency room now.”

Long story short, part of my intestines nuked themselves into oblivion, causing acute peritonitis. To give you an idea, that’s something with a double-digit fatality rate. Had we waited maybe a day or two more, I would not be here writing this. They kind of blew up. I had an enormous abcess attached to a bunch of my organs. I had to be operated on with only weak local anaesthetics as they tried to start draining the abscess. It is, to date, by far the most painful thing that has ever happened to me. It was bad enough that the hospital doctor that was on my case told me that I was pretty much a case worthy to be in textbooks. I even had medical students come into my hospital room about it! They were very nice.

This whole affair lasted over a month. I became intimately familiar with TV schedules. And thankfully, I had my DS to keep me company. At the time, I was pretty big into the Tony Hawk DS games. They were genuinely good. They had extensive customization, really great replayability, etc. you get the idea. I think I even got pretty high on the online leaderboards at some point. I didn’t have much to do on some days besides lying down in pain while perfecting my scoring and combo strategies. I think Downhill Jam might’ve been my favorite.

My case was bad enough that they were unable to do something due to the sad state of my insides during the last surgery of my stay. I was told that I could come back in a few months for a checkup, and potentially a “cleanup” operation that would fix me up for good. I came back in late June of 2008, got the operation, and... woke up in my hospital room surrounded by, like, nine doctors, and hooked up to a morphine machine that I could trigger on command. Apparently something had gone wrong during the operation, but they never told me what. I wasn’t legally an adult, so they didn’t have to tell me. I suspect it’s somewhere in some medical files, but I never bothered to dig up through my parents’ archives, or ask the hospital. And I think I would rather not know. But anyway, that was almost three more weeks in the hospital. And it sucked even more that time because, you see, hospital beds do not “breathe” like regular beds do. The air can’t go through. Let’s say I’m intimately familiar with the smell of back sweat forever.

When I got out, my mom stopped by a supermarket on the way home. And that is when I bought The Orange Box, completely on a whim, and made my Steam account. Why? Because it was orange and stood out on the shelf.

(As a side note, that was the whole bit I started writing first, and that made me initially title this post “growing pains”. First, because I’m bad at titles. Second, because not that I didn’t have them otherwise (ow oof ouch my knees), but that was literally the most painful episode of my entire life thus far and it ended in a comically-unrelated, high-impact, life-changing decision. Just me picking up The Orange Box after two awful hospital stays... led me to where I am today.)

While I was recovering, I also started playing EarthBound! Another bit of a life-changer, that one. To a lesser extent, but still. I was immediately enamored by its unique tone. Giygas really really really creeped me out for a while afterwards though. I still get unsettled if I hear its noises sometimes.

I later bought Garry’s Mod (after convincing my mom that it was a “great creative toolbox that only cost ten bucks!”), and, well, the rest is history. By which I mean, a lot of my work and gaming activity since 2009 is still up and browsable. But there are still a few things to talk about.

In 2009, I bought my first computer with YouTube ad money: the Asus eee PC 1005HA-H. By modern standards, it’s... not very powerful. The processor in my current desktop machine is nearly 50 times as fast as its Atom N280. It had only one gigabyte of RAM, Windows 7 Basic Edition, and an integrated GPU barely worthy of the name; Intel didn’t care much for 3D in their chips back then. The GMA 945 didn’t even have hardware support for Transform & Lighting.

But I made it work, damn it. I made that machine run so much stuff. I played countless Half-Life and Half-Life 2 mods on it—though, due to the CPU overhead on geometry, some of those were trickier. I think one of the most memorable ones I played was Mistake of Pythagoras; very surreal, very rough, but I still remember it so clearly. I later played The Longest Journey on it, in the middle of winter. It was a very cozy and memorable experience. (And another one that’s an adventure wonderful outlandish alien universe. LOVE THOSE.)

I did more than playing games on it, though...

This is me sitting, sunburned on the nose, in an apartment room, on 06 August 2010. This was in the Pyrénées, at the border between France and Spain. We had a vacation with daily hiking. Some of the landscapes we visited reminded me very strongly of those from Lost Eden, way up the page...

So, you see, I had 3ds Max running on that machine. The Source SDK as well. Sony Vegas. All of it was slow; you bet I had to use some workarounds to squeeze performance out of software, and that I had to keep a close, watchful eye on RAM usage. But I worked on this thing. I really did! I animated this video’s facial animation bits (warning: this is old & bad) on the eee PC, during the evenings of the trip, when we were back at our accomodation. The Faceposer tool in the Source SDK really worked well on that machine.

I also animated an entire video solely on the machine (warning: also old and bad). It had to be rendered on the desktop computer... but every single bit of the animation was crafted on the eee PC.

I made it work.

Speaking of software that did not run well: around that time, I also played the original Crysis. The “but can it run Crysis?” joke was very much justified back then. I had to edit configuration files by hand so that I could run the game in 640x480... because I wanted to keep most of the high-end settings enabled. The motion blur was delicious, and it blew my mind that the effect made the game feel this smooth, despite wobbling around in the 20 to 30 fps range.

Alright. It’s time to finish writing this damn post and publish it at last, so I’m going to close it out by listing some more memories and games that I couldn’t work in up there.

Advance Wars. Strategy game on GBA with a top-down level editor. You better believe I was all over the editor right away.

BioShock. When we got the 2007 desktop computer, it was one of the first games I tried. Well, its demo, to be precise. Its tech and graphics blew my mind, enough that I saved up to buy the full game. This was before I had a Steam account; I got a boxed copy! I think it might have been the last boxed game I ever bought? It had a really nice metal case. The themes and political messages of the game flew way over my head, though.

Mirror’s Edge. The art direction was completely fascinating to me, and it introduced me to Solar Fields’ music; my most listened artist this decade, by a long shot.

L.A. Noire. I lost myself in its stories and investigations, and then, I did it all again, with my sister at the helm. I very rarely play games twice (directly or indirectly), which I figure is worth mentioning.

Zeno Clash. It was weird and full of soul, had cool music, and cool cutscenes. It inspired me a lot in my early animation days.

Skyward Sword. Yep, going back to Zelda on that one. The whole game was pretty good, and I’m still thinking about how amazing its art direction was. Look up screenshots of it running in HD on an emulator... it’s outstanding. But there’s a portion of the game that stands tall above the rest: the Lanayru Sand Sea. It managed to create a really striking atmosphere in many aspects, through and through. I still think about it from time to time, especially when its music comes on in shuffle mode.

Wandersong. A very recent pick, but it was absolutely a life-changing one. That game is an anti-depressant, a vaccine against cynicism, a lone bright and optimist voice.

I realize now this is basically a “flawed but interesting and impactful games” list. With “can establish its atmosphere very well” as a big criteria. (A segment of video games that is absolutely worth exploring.)

I don’t know if I’ll ever make my own video game. I have a few ideas floating around and I tried prototyping some stuff, though my limited programming abilities stood in my way. But either way, if it happens one day, I hope I’ll manage to channel all those years of games into the CULMINATION OF WHAT I LIKE. Something along those lines, I reckon.

#video games

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crimes-and-gelato · 6 years

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Only Half a Blue Sky (Chapter Three)

Rating: M Pairings: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Chapter Title: Hooked on a Feeling

A/N: First and foremost, thank you to aoifelaufeyson for beta reading this at the last minute. Thanks a massive, dear. :) And of course, all remaining mistakes are still mine.It was Leez's idea actually for the plot to go like this: with Bucky learning that he's Tony's soulmate before Tony learning that he's Bucky's soulmate, too. Because she's brilliant. So, it's all thanks to her.We change POV on this chapter. Two new POVs: Nat and Bucky's. Since, we're gonna deal with a Bucky POV, you should be warned that he's going to go through some depressing thought about his Winter Soldier days. And as for Nat's part, it's going to have some mentions of Howard's A+ parenting, which I will probably add in the tag as well.Okay, I talked waaaay too much. Thank you for being here, if you're still here. Let's get on with the show. :))

“Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.” -Kait Rokowski

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of these awkward evasive dance from James and Tony. Natasha’s sure Steve hasn’t noticed yet, he’s too busy focusing on James’ rehabilitation and Avenger business to have detected this game of avoidance between his two best friends. But she saw it.

The two didn’t start up great with how they have Maria’s death between them. And she was sure there won’t be anything more between them besides trying to be civil with each other for Steve’s sake. But of course, he’s Tony Stark and he plans to prove her wrong with how generous he can be with his kindness and forgiveness to those who deserve it.

Natasha’s a testament to Tony’s generosity even after she betrayed his trust, and wrote down words about him that she can never take back all because Fury wanted her to push Tony’s button. The evaluation was all scripted because she somehow got a glimpse of the real Tony Stark in the days she acted as his secretary.

Yes, he’s egotistical but only when he’s trying to annoy people and push their buttons, or when he’s trying to hide the fact that he has a heart and cares too much about how others perceive him. Howard Stark might have been the main root of all the self-doubt he covers up with dramatic performances as he’d heard snippets of Tony’s childhood from the man himself.

Unfortunately, the senior Stark wanted Tony to be a man who should only focus on important things like creating an outstanding future with robotics and science, anything that’s unrelated to both are considered unnecessary. Feelings for example will only get in the way of progress and brilliance, Howard said. And Tony, being the sensitive person that he truly is despite all the hard layers he hides under, had a hard time trying to fulfill his father’s wishes.

And Tony never has, he tells Natasha so. That’s why everything he does will never be good enough, because all his life all he had heard from Howard was how he was never good enough. Stark men are made of iron and Tony’s not there yet, his father implied constantly when he was still alive.

Even when Howard’s rotting in his grave for more than two decades now, Tony continues to carry around the man’s expectation. If Natasha could bring Howard back from the dead, she’d stab him a couple times for all the pain he brought on his son. But she can’t do that, all she can do is help Tony see that he’s a far greater man than his father ever will.

Both she and Tony had started on the wrong foot, but they have come far away from that awful beginning of lies and manipulations. Now that they have both come clean of their masks and bluffs, they’ve discovered how much they have in common and they draw strength in that as they rely on each other.

By far Tony’s one of the three people she will trust with her life. First has to be Clint, then Pepper, and then the genius. Maybe Coulson too and Steve. It’s a very short list because it’s hard to get on it. They all need to pass by several tests and personal issues first.

Now, Tony’s acting all weird around James. She’s curious and concerned about this sudden change in their dynamic when a few weeks ago Tony couldn't stop talking about James’ arm and all he planned to do with it, and sometimes when he forgets himself he gushes over the super soldier’s strength and physique. And it’s cute. She can tell he has a crush that he tries to hide but he fails at times when he has this fond and nostalgic smile on his lips when he talks about the James he saw on the old reels.

What’s not cute is the fact that Tony shouldn’t go on with this infatuation because it’s only set on heartaches. She doesn’t want that for him. Never. He’s been hurt too much and deserved better.

She observes from a distance and tries to figure out if Tony had suddenly realised that he had feelings for James that will never be reciprocated and is now doing his very best to keep away from the super soldier.

But then, James is also acting bizarre. The ex-assassin keeps glancing at the genius when Tony isn’t looking. And there’s something about the gaze that’s somehow translates to longing. The why is still blank. She needs to investigate further.

It’s one thing for Tony to avoid James. But it’s another for James to avoid Tony as well but still look at the engineer like he’s itching to touch him and be near him.

Bizarre. Her family is confusing. It’s actually interesting as well. Better than all the spy mission that Fury sends her these days.

Natasha sits down on her usual breakfast chair in the kitchen and watches quietly as James digs holes behind Tony’s back in the living room. The billionaire has his back on the sofa, facing the window that looks out over Manhattan as he talks to someone on the phone in French. Even from this view she can appreciate his form that's perfectly fitted into a charcoal grey suit. She wonders if that’s also the reason why James’ is looking far too many times than should be normal.

What’s it with these super soldiers and Tony? She’s not even going to mention how Steve has the same look towards the resident engineer. Really interesting.

She sips her coffee and formulates a plan to get answers. She might not be a scientist, but she’s not against experiments is all.

Tony is a very tactile person, and even more so when he’s exhausted or when he’s lost in his science thoughts. These are the perfect moments to cuddle with him without him being so damn defensive about being snuggled because ‘I’m a grown ass man, Natasha .’

And yes, she had mentioned a lot of times that she doesn’t like to be embraced as well. Especially in public, and how any show of emotion or affection makes her defensive, too. But she gives an exception to Tony. Because he’s Tony.

At first, she was wary of Tony. Of anyone for that matter. She doesn’t want to get attached because she’s a spy, an assassin, a seductress. In short, someone who’s not made — the Red Room guaranteed that — for permanent domesticity because they’re weapons first, and people last.

They’re only people when the work needed them to be. But it’s all a façade in the end because they will always come back to their original role: a weapon. It’s their function. It’s how they were brought up to think.

Not anymore for her. Thanks to SHIELD. But habits stick and so does the brainwashing, and everything else that’s been fed to her from the moment she was able to understand words and orders.

So, she’s always cautious. She doesn’t want to get attached.

But she did, because it’s Tony. The genius is an idiot who has sacrificial tendencies engraved into his bone that’s borderline —nine out of ten — exasperating. And also, because he’s funny and different.

And as time moved further they grew to gravitate towards each other for comfort often enough that it became a habit. One she doesn’t want to depart with because she likes being close to Tony. He feels safe. And safe in their line of work is scarce. And what’s rarer is her finding someone she can trust like she trust him. So that’s that.

‘Now, that Tony’s here we have to start with the whole Star Wars saga,’ Clint announces. ‘Since Barnes hasn’t seen them yet.’

It’s the first team movie night that Tony is attending since James arrived. And she already made sure that the seat next to her will be empty so the engineer can have it. She usually sits with Clint, but he’s sitting next to Sam, Steve’s veteran friend.

Before James’ arrival, Steve and Tony have always sat together because Cap’s the only one who can tolerate the genius’ unnecessary — and most of the time, funny — commentary. Cap always smiles on Tony’s jokes during movie nights.

It’s ridiculous and silly how they both get along so well — although they do tend to rile each other up at times. Still, they work together in perfect synchronization that at one point she believed that they must be soulmates or something. But Cap is bonded to James (who was believed to be dead at the time). So, is it possible for him to have another soulmate? Because that’s the only explanation she can come up with with how much Steve and Tony complement each other.

Their science hasn’t explained much about soulmates and the other mysteries about it. By far, the only law about it is someone mentioning your name or your preferred name and then your bonded.

Thinking back now, she’s still curious on whether Steve and Tony could have been soulmates? Is that even possible? They both continue to steal glimpses of each other, only now it’s more like of the glances that James is throwing at Tony.

What is up with these three?

‘I don’t know,’ Bruce inserts, taking his place next to Thor, who’s currently eating pop tarts. ‘Do we really want to start another long discussion about Luke Skywalker?’

‘The new Star Wars then?’ Clint offers.

Bruce shakes his head with a soft smile. ‘Clint, you’re not the one who’s going to have to listen to him soliloquy about Poe.’

‘Fine.’ He rolls his eyes sarcastically. ‘What do we watch then?’

‘ Mamma Mia !’ Thor bellows excitedly. ‘I have great likeness when Friend Anthony sings along to the hymns. It reminds me of home after winning a battle when me and my companions feast and the bards plays a tune we can all carol to.’

‘This is absurd,’ Tony exclaims as he enters the room. ‘That was one time, Point Break.’ He sternly glares at Thor, mockingly. ‘I trusted that you’d keep that secret close to heart and guard it with your life. But no, you have to unravel these happenings behind my back where I cannot defend my honour.’

‘I apologise, my good friend,’ Thor amends, smiling and looking far from apologetic. ‘You have a fantastic voice that needs to be shared and heard by our friends.’

Tony’s gaze wanders for two seconds on the seat next to Cap that James occupies. But the engineer immediately darts his eyes away and proceeds to the empty one next to Natasha.

She wants to say it’s not hurt she saw in Tony’s eyes when he surreptitiously glances at the two super soldiers. But clearly it’s a little bit of that because he’s suddenly all stiff and talkative as he sits down next to her.

‘And no, we cannot watch Mamma Mia just to please Point Break,’ he announces. ‘That was only a one time occasion because he was homesick and moping around.’ He leans further into Natasha’s side. ‘If it’s all the same to you guys, we should go with Twilight .’

Everyone makes an exasperated groan, except for James, who doesn’t have any idea about the turmoil ahead of them.

‘Oh please, at least they had great casting,’ Tony chides. ‘Not like you-know-who creator.’

‘You only like it because you think Dr. Cullen is hot,’ Clint retorts back and throws a popcorn at Tony.

‘Wait, I thought you said you watch it because of Alice?’ Steve interjects, turning to the genius.

Tony only shrugs at the blond and stares ahead on the wide TV screen. ‘J, put on some Twilight , please.’

There’s another series of displease voices as the room darkens further and the screen bursts into life. And as on cue, Tony curls more into Natasha’s side when the lights dim.

Solely on instinct, she wraps her arm on his shoulder to pull him closer to her as he lets out a quiet, satisfied sigh. Their whole side glued together as they get comfortable in their position.

Bella’s narrating the opening scene when Natasha feels being watched. And she knows she is because her instincts tells her so, and her instincts are always ninety-eight percent correct. So, she looks around subtly to investigate.

Viola! It’s James.

The two super soldiers are across them, just on the other end of the U-shape couch. She and Tony are on the other end with Sam and Clint in the middle.

And yes, that’s James secretly throwing a glare at her and Tony. The engineer on the other hand seems to be oblivious, concentrating on the movie. Steve is also watching the screen along with everyone else that is not her or James.

Why is James so mad at Tony?

She meets his eyes because she won’t stand it that he’s trying to threaten the engineer. James have to go through her first. Or her through him. She’s opting for the latter.

When James is caught, he looks away immediately. He didn’t seem chastise that she scowls back at him. He looks away, but there’s that annoyance in his features as he turns his eyes back towards the screen.

She’s going to ask Tony later if James is threatening him. She’s not going to let James bully Tony in his own household. She doesn’t care what Steve says.

Appeased with her decision to talk to James later about his attitude towards their resident genius, she also begins to watch the movie and pulls Tony even closer into her side.

And just as expected, Tony made a running commentary about the movie. But halfway through he’s out like a light and is leaning peacefully into Natasha’s chest, where he snores slightly. She’d had a mission these last two days and he made sure to snatch the opportunity to defy his regulated sleeping schedule. Even Bruce couldn’t drag him out of his workshop.

So, it’s no surprise at all to have him exhausted and asleep at any given time of stillness.

She’s petting his hair softly, loving how it curls at the end. She also likes the low mewls he makes when she cards her fingers through his hair. She’ll say he sounds like a cat, but she won’t tell him that because he’s going to pout and will only make him more adorable.

How she loves these few moments of vulnerability from him. He looks so peaceful like this, younger than when he’s awake and ready to fight anything that he thought was wrong.

Somehow, having him like this in her arms kicks off a bit of her maternal instincts. It’s a part of her that she doesn’t show often, that she refuses to. Only in times like this when it’s dark, when she it’s just them.

She looks up to the screen again to where Bella’s on Edward’s back and jumping from tree to tree like a couple of idiots. That’s when she senses it again; the presence of someone watching her.

She turns and there’s James again: staring. He doesn’t glare this time. His feature is cross between incredulity and hurt. He also seems to have not notice her watching him because his eyes aren’t fix on her. No, those blue grey eyes are laser focus on Tony.

James whole face is a picture of longing. And she’s not sure why is that. Why does he keep looking at Tony like that? It doesn’t add up to the theory she has in her head.

Taking himself back into sanity has not been an easy journey, just ask his therapist and the amount of tea he has at 2am when he doesn’t want to go back to sleep because the nightmares continue to unravel — one after another — once he closes his eyes. Not that being awake helps him forget the faces of the people he killed, but he’s trying to humour himself.

And his conscience doesn’t take it too well when he wakes Steve up when he starts screaming in his sleep. They’ve decided to sleep in separate rooms before when Bucky’s just healing up. Now they sleep in the same room, but still on different beds.

He wants to think that it’s Steve’s presence that keeps most his nightmares away. It might be the whole soulmate thing. Only that, it’s still difficult for them both when it comes to waking Bucky from his nightmares. Five times had he managed to punch Steve in the face. Twice had he choked his lover. And there are a few more instances that he wants to forget.

His therapist tells him it’s normal. That he should not worry too much. That he’s doing his best. And that he’s getting better.

On the first few weeks he wanted to ask his therapist, Sasha, about the last one. He’s getting better. But when? When is he going to fully recover? When will he stop sleeping under the bed at times he doesn’t feel safe to sleep on his mattress even when he had checked the door four times to know that it is completely locked, with JARVIS assuring him that he is safe.

He screamed at her a few times on days he can’t help himself. Those were during the first few weeks of therapy. They were the toughest days. The longest days, too.

He had long accepted now that healing takes time. He knows it before but he doesn’t have the right presence of mind to learn to accept it. He’s still trying to do so on his bad days. And Christ, there will always be bad days.

The bad days are fewer now. He’s glad they are. But they are still there, there’s no way he’s going to forget, or that his demons will ever not remind him. At least it isn’t always going to be bad days even when he's constantly awake at the wee hours of the morning.

But these last weeks he’s been awake at some forsaken early hour for a different reason. The nightmares still come but with the help of therapy they’re scarcer than they were before.

The reason why he’s drinking tea at 2am this time around is because of Tony. Who knew such a harmless looking man could contest his nightmares at keeping him up. He wants to complain but he prefers this over his usual turmoil.

At the back of his head he can hear Sasha’s voice telling him to talk to someone. Communication is a key in fixing Bucky’s usual problems. And he should probably listen to that small voice.

It’s not like he hasn’t tried. God, for the last two weeks — blending into three now — he had tried to say something to Steve. He can tell that Steve knows he’s anxious about something. But well, Bucky’s constantly troubled about everything — thank you very much, HYDRA assholes — so Steve won’t push him to open up unless Bucky wants to.

He really needs to talk to Steve about it because it’s eating him up. It makes him feel guilty and he’s actually surprise there’s still room in him to feel guilty about something else other than taking the lives of those innocent people HYDRA had told him to eliminate.

Natasha already noticed him acting weird. And it’s going to take a spy of her calibre to find out his dirty little secret. And when she does, she’s going to tell Tony and Steve. Steve will be heartbroken. And Tony? Well, the engineer’s probably going to kick him out of his home.

Just two nights ago Natasha had warned him to stay away from Tony — and he’s trying isn’t he? — or else she’s going to do some very interesting things with his anatomy that would put HYDRA’s torture to shame. And he believes her. She had been his pupil before, one of the best he’d taught by far.

His mental health is once again in jeopardy all because of one single man. One beautiful, smart, kind man.

‘I’m starting to think I should keep a tracking device on you,’ a voice states, startling Bucky from his internal tumult.

He looks up and finds the very man that’s adding to his insomnia: Tony Stark.

The man yawns reluctantly and hides it at the back of his hand. He’s all sleepy eyes and bedhead hair, all soft and at ease. It makes Bucky want to reach out and touch his warm skin because he feels so cold all of the sudden. Tony looks very warm.

‘Why you up, Robocop?’ the engineer asks. He walks tiredly towards the coffee machine and turns it on. ‘Do you want some coffee?’

‘No,’ he answers and continues on staring at his now empty cup of tea.

The silence blankets around them with only the coffee machine breaking its wake. It’s awkward, he’s not sure if Tony notices or if he minds. But Bucky wants to fill it with something. A question that’s been bugging him since his last few days of observation, and especially after the team movie night.

Although, he isn’t in the right place to ask anything — especially not personal — he’s itching to do so. There’s no settling in peace unless he can voice out his query because it’s digging deep into his bones, his mind, his soul. He needs answers.

The problem is: he’s afraid to ask. Afraid to have his hunch confirm. Afraid of the truth that lies ahead.

Jesus Christ, his life is hard.

‘Are you okay?’ Tony inquires worriedly that brings Bucky out of his headspace.

‘What?’ he asks dumbly, confuse as to why all the sudden concern.

‘Shit!’ The engineer grabs something and dabs it softly on Bucky’s hand. On Bucky’s flesh hand that is, which at the moment is bleeding. ‘Oh shit!’

It’s not that painful, is what Bucky thinks as he sees the blood on the light grey breakfast bar from where he had broken the cup he was holding. He only glances it for a few seconds knowing that it will heal in a while. Super soldier serum benefits. His eyes fleet to Tony though, who is more awake now with how he’s panicking at the sight of Bucky’s blood.

‘I’m sorry for running your table,’ he mumbles weakly, feeling guilty for the bloody table and Tony’s concern for cleanliness.

‘What?’ Now, it’s Tony who’s in disbelief. ‘Are you seriously apologising for bleeding?’

Bucky looks away from those brown eyes, not wanting to see them morphing from disbelief to disgust or anger. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll clean it up.’

There’s a short pause. A short time where Bucky expects Tony to say sarcastically ‘Well, I certainly hope so.’ But instead, there’s a warm finger on his jaw making him face Tony.

And how on earth was Tony so close to him. He’s so near that Bucky can count the genius’ long lashes that frames those beautiful hazel eyes, now burning with concern. Why should Tony be concern about him? The genius should be disgusted to touch him; the skin of his parents' murderer.

‘It’s okay,’ Tony soothes, his other hand on Bucky’s good shoulder, touching Bucky instead of being mad because he's Tony. Kind and generous Tony who forgives, and sees everyone else's redeeming qualities rather than their flaws. ‘You shouldn’t apologise for something you can’t help.’

Bucky’s not sure anymore if this is still about the cup or something else. Something else like the death of Tony’s parents which he had a hand with.

‘But I should,’ he whispers weakly. ‘Right?’ He meets those conflicting brown eyes.

Tony removes his finger on Bucky’s face like he’s remembering that he’s not suppose to touch. Then the other hand goes as well — awkwardly.

And he suddenly misses Tony’s warmth.

‘Yes,’ he answers firmly. ‘But not forever.’ There’s resolve in his eyes now as if he’s trying to convince someone. Maybe Bucky? Maybe himself? Bucky doesn’t have the courage to ask.

Except. He has the audacity to ask, ‘So, you and Natasha, huh?’

‘What?’ Tony’s so surprise by the question he takes a step back away from Bucky like he’s been physically threatened by the simple query. ‘What do you mean me and Natasha?’ His eyes narrow, meaning he’s suspicious and about to be defensive.

Huh, when did he start to learn these little Tony quirks? Bucky tells himself that it’s because he’s a trained spy and old habits are hard to shake off. But also, a smaller part of him knows that that is a fucking huge lie because he’s been following and observing Tony these last two weeks after the whole incident .

‘Nothing,’ he replies. ‘Just wanna know since when? And how?’ He cleans the table top with the piece of cloth he’s been handed. The laceration is closing and looking like it's a week old.

Tony lets out an exasperated sigh and runs a hand over his face. ‘Where do these sudden questions come from?’ He’s got two hands on his hips now, sounding defensive as expected.

He shrugs. ‘Just curious.’ He turns on the faucet and rinses the cloth with blood, running the water red. He deliberately avoids meeting Tony’s eyes, playing nonchalant when he’s actually burning with curiosity as to Tony’s relationship with the other spy.

‘Curious of what, Barnes?’ Natasha asks, emerging from the shadows unexpectedly. She’s giving him that threatening look again. The one that could make a lesser person cower. And Bucky’s not immune to it either.

Bucky doesn’t cower though, even when he knows he should because only fools rush in. But he needs answers once and for all. He can’t take another second not knowing what exactly is the relationship between Natasha and Tony.

‘Curious as to when and how did you know that Stark is your soulmate,’ he replies, taking on those dangerous green eyes.

Tony ungracefully chokes on his coffee. And within a flash Natasha’s there beside the genius to help him out, rubbing a sympathetic hand on his back as he wheezes air back into his wind pipes.

She’s so careful with the engineer; Bucky can see that. And Tony’s calm with her; Bucky’s jealous of that.

He looks away, afraid he’ll break something else with how much annoyed he is with the current predicament. Because why is he jealous? He shouldn’t be jealous. He has Steve, whom he needs to talk to, or else he’ll go crazy with this insane secret he’s been hiding for two weeks now.

He can probably keep his mouth shut for a longer amount of time. But that won’t do great with his mental health, which is one of his top priorities right now.

Besides, it’s getting harder and harder to hide his secret with Tony around, all kind and generous and soft and beautiful, and everything Bucky should not crave for. He shouldn’t because he has Steve. And he needs to mend his relationship with Steve.

Steve who is his soulmate. Steve whom he was willing to die for — had died for. Steve who’s willing to die for him, and go through hell and back. Steve whom he loves so much.

And Tony whom he loves almost just the same.

His gone crazy, he thinks, if he’s reached this insane conclusion. He loves Tony? It can’t be. Right? He can’t. He shouldn’t because he loves Steve. He’s bonded to Steve. And he doesn’t know Tony like he knows Steve.

Right?

But he does know Tony. Or is getting to know him.

Tony who would choose to save someone else over himself. Tony’s who’s always showing off to mask his insecurities. Tony who keeps all the Iron Man drawing he receives from his fans. Tony who makes time to go to children’s hospital and secretly pay off the bills of those who can’t. Tony who’s not flawless but tries to make amends when he can.

So, maybe he does know Tony. A little.

Also, he already knows Tony is kind, generous, smart, snarky, brave and gorgeous. And when he laughs — truly laughs, not like the ones he does for show— it’s small but deep and hearty like nothing in the world had ever been wrong. It’s beautiful, just like the man himself. Bucky wants to hear Tony laugh some more.

There’s so much more about the genius that he wants to uncover. And he wants, too. Very much.

So, yes, he’s fucked.

#stuckony #steve x tony #tony x bucky #bucky x steve #fanfic #winteriron #stony #stucky #marvel fanfic #only half a blue sky

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