#i like to think about tony and yeah . he's plagued my mind for over four years . what else can i say

[spookythesillyfella]

ah ... what a lovely day with the siblings ...

it sure would be a shame if one's grief and guilt came back to haunt them at that specific time . right ?

haha !!!!!

...

right ?

★ [ "Camaraderie at arms length" . "All you are going to want to do is get back there" – The Caretaker ]

[feral-dumbass]

F*ck Me

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Female Reader

Summary: Bucky loses a bet and has to wear a maid dress. Neither of you expected you to be so into Bucky wearing it.

Includes: Bucky in a maid costume, Knife kink, ripping of clothes, Bondage, unprotected sex, brief mention of Bucky being turned on by glasses, Beefy!Bucky, use of vibrator (sharing of it too), manhandling, overstimulation (Possible dub-con because of it), dirty talk, unprotected sex, size kink, choking (with the metal arm)

Words: 4,103 

A/N: Happy New Year! I finally actually finished a WIP. Bucky does wear a maid dress, so if you know me in real life, no you don’t. I just wrote a crack fic. Didn’t I? Title Credit to Vernon Jane. Tagging my friends @babybluestan​ @gagmebucky​ @heresyoursnackdumbass​

Masterlist

It started off with a bet. Who could beat Thor at armwrestling? Cocky egos and bored minds don’t mix well. Quill and Steve both lost. Most men that weren’t gifted with super strength didn’t need that question answered. Bucky decided to join in on the camaraderie. Besides, if Steve lectures Bucky team bonding one more time, he’s gonna lose it. 

Everything was fine until Tony couldn’t stop talking. Out on a personal vendetta ever since you and Bucky took Stark’s Audi out for joyride and put the most miniscule dent on the hood, Tony suggested more than money. If Bucky lost, he’d have to follow Thor around in a maid’s costume at the next compound party with the team and vice versa. Thor and Bucky were already sitting across from each other at the table when Tony announced it. It was too late to back out now. With Clint cheering on the statement and Steve starting to mother hen, Bucky said fuck it. Thor even let him use his bionic fucking metal arm. How bad could it be? 

Bucky was wrong. Bucky was so very wrong. Never make a bet about strength with a God. The gears and plates of his arm buzzed from the tension underneath the sound of the men choosing their sides and cheering them on. Even though Bucky put up a good fight, he lost and probably needs to kiss Tony’s ass to make sure the processors are still functioning. Thor has a good grip.

The package arrived at your doorstep Thursday, just in time for the party on Friday. You were the one to place it on the kitchen table. You were sympathetic to Bucky’s predicament after a good laugh. The offending package sat there for the next twenty-four hours, Bucky avoiding it like the plague. It’s not that Bucky hates it per say, it’s just a clothing item for fuck’s sake. He just hates the fact he’ll never hear the end of it.

 He expresses the same fact exactly to you as he tears open the package in the bathroom. He tries on the maid dress while you wait patiently for him on the bed. Bucky manages to zip himself and stare at himself in the mirror. Bucky sighs at the sight. For a genius, Stark is really bad at guessing sizes. Bucky is practically busting at the seams. “Damnit.”

“Aww. C’mon out, Bucky. I’m sure it’s not-” You try to assuage Bucky as your eyes never leave the latest gossip magazine of the Avengers. At the sound of the bathroom door creaking open, you look up. Momentarily stunned, you forget your words. Magazine long forgotten. “Oh- oh my god.” 

“I know. This feels indecent.” Bucky crosses his arms underneath his chest and your mouth waters.

“No, Bucky, not in that way.” You didn’t expect Bucky to look this good in frilly black and white. The bands of the poofy sleeves strain against his bulging biceps. The bust also straining against his pecs. The dress is so short the bottom of Bucky’s black boxers peak out. Not to mention, Bucky has his emotional support knife strapped to his thigh. You wish you could be surprised you’d fuck him like this, but then again, he is Bucky Barnes. “It’s not that bad.” You slur your words a bit, still focused on the band stressed around Bucky’s biceps. You lick your lips and suck the bottom one in between your teeth.

“Wait, is this actually working for you?” Bucky ducks down so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. No point in beating around the bush. Act coy and you might never get to see him like this again. 

“Would you judge me if I said yes?”

“A little bit. Yeah.” You shrug. It’s not like the nerd hasn’t asked you to wear glasses while you give him head. Different strokes for different folks. 

“Would you wear it in bed?”

Bucky lets out a surprised laugh and shakes his head. “Keep looking at me like you wanna eat me alive and I’ll wear anything for you.” He strides over to you, pulls your hair so you look up at him, and kisses you with blazing passion. This is fine. You’re more than happy to give Bucky a few minutes of happiness before he spends the whole night brooding. Bucky barely separates from you. “We can skip the party and I’ll wear it in bed for you right now?” His lips brush against yours as you stare at him with heavy lidded eyes. 

“Stark will probably conduct a man hunt and it’s probably best no one see what I have in store for you.” 

“Please, do share your plans.”

“I was thinking we could bring out the nylon ropes. I tie you to the headboard and have my way with you.” Even with his hair half up in bun, pieces of his hair fell out. You tuck a brown piece of his hair behind his ear as he swallows thickly and groans.

“Are you sure we have to go?” You nod as a grin slowly spreads across your face. “Give me ten minutes before we go to my personal hell.” Bucky walks back into the bathroom, trying to fix the growing bulge in his boxers. 

~

The party is going surprisingly well, Bucky being less broody than usual. Turns out when you’re girlfriend promises to ride you into the mattress, your mood lightens. Bucky’s smirk has been laced with secrecy all night. It probably doesn’t help that you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off him, flashing him fuck me eyes everytime he caught you. By the fifth time Bucky caught your eye, Tony had enough. 

“Oh my god, you guys look like your two seconds away from fucking eachother in front of us.” Tony complains. 

Bucky shrugs in all his maid dress glory. “I wouldn’t mind.” Bucky looks to you for confirmation. 

“Uh, hey, no. This isn’t fun anymore. It’s getting weird. You lost your party privilege. Leave before I order both of you a psych eval on Monday.” Tony pretends like Pepper hasn’t told you things three margaritas in. Fine, he can act all pure and mighty all he wants. You’re forced with the knowledge Tony is a good submissive for Pepper. 

“Thank God.” Bucky is ushering you to the elevators before you can say something witty back to Stark. Once in the elevator, Bucky incessantly presses the door closing button.

“Pressing the button ten times doesn’t make the elevator work faster.” The elevator hates you and starts closing as you speak. 

“You were saying?” Bucky backs you up against the elevator and ducks down to kiss you which eventually turns into making out. He lifts you up by the back of your thighs as he deepens the kiss. He moves his kisses down to your neck, sucking hickeys into your skin in between kisses. Pressed in between the wall and Bucky, you’re forced to feel all of him, rutting his quickly hardening bulge into you. You’re like 99% sure Bucky is ready to fuck you in the elevator. Security cameras be damned. It wouldn’t be the wildest place you had sex and you’re about ready to help drop your pants until you remember your plans. You rake your hands through his hair, grab a nice hindfull, and pull, taking his lips off your skin. 

“Bucky.” You whine with a pout of your lips. His eyes track the movement of your spit-shined lips, too entranced to look you in the eyes just yet. “You agreed to let me tie you up and I’m holding you to it.” The elevator dings with the arrival of your floor. 

Bucky smashes his lips against yours for a quick kiss. After he separates, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I spoil you.” It’s his only response before he’s carrying you to the bedroom. 

Managing to make-out with you and kick the bedroom door open, Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed. Your legs are forced to spread wider to accommodate his thick thighs, the knife strapped to him digging into your inner own. 

“You’re wearing too much clothes.” Bucky tugs on your shirt.

“Maybe you should help me with that.” Before you can finish your sentence, Bucky is pulling your shirt up. You finish pulling it over your head, flinging it onto the bedroom floor, as Bucky works on unfastening your jeans. Bucky pauses his task at the sight of bare skin. He groans deep within his chest. So maybe you wore Bucky’s favorite lingerie set, navy blue and semi opaque. You’re even wearing slutty panties to match. You were hoping to get railed tonight even before the maid dress was introduced into your life. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re gorgeous.” His hands travel to your breasts kneading them through the flimsy material. Goosebumps break out underneath Bucky’s calloused touch. His stubble scratches as he kisses the swell of each breast before gently dragging his hands back down to your pants. You duck down to kiss him as he snakes his hand into the back of your pants, squeezing handfuls of ass. “Well, are you ready to be in charge, baby?”

“Please.” You push Bucky on his back and hop off his lap. You slide a chest out from underneath the bed and get out a couple objects of interest including the nylon rope. Bucky moves to the center of the bed as you take off your pants. You crawl onto the bed and Bucky. He meets you halfway for a kiss, his hand on the back of your head. 

“Did ya wear all this just to torment me? Knowing I won’t be able to touch you is driving me crazy.” 

“I will admit I didn’t wear this with bondage in mind. You ripping my underwear off with your teeth is more of what I was thinking, but I’m flexible.”

Bucky’s chest rumbled. “I’m aware.” With darkening eyes, Bucky lets you maneuver his arms up to the bedpost and tie him to it. Of course, it helps he has a perfect view of your cleavage dangling just a few inches from his face.  Once you’re done tying him up, you kiss his cheek. 

“Remember your colors, baby boy?” You ask him in between kisses on his neck, nipping at the skin. It’s a  line Bucky has used on you so many times and now it’s your turn to use. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your color? These too tight?” You tug on the binds wrapped around. 

“So fucking green. They’re not too tight. Although, I’d be a lot better if you were on my cock right now.” You suck a hickey into his neck. 

“It’s cute you think you’re still calling the shots.” You grind down onto him, your eyes fluttering at the feel of the sweet friction, but Bucky doesn’t need to know that. You blow on the hickey and Bucky shudders underneath you. You sit up to admire your handiwork. His eyes are lust-filled. A hint of a rosy flush decorates his cheeks and chest. Bucky’s arms flex at your incessant grinding. 

“Please, wanna be in you.” He ruts his hips up, adding more friction. You bump into the handle of his knife, reminding you it’s there. You reach behind you and unsheathe the knife. Bucky’s knife glints as you take note of it.

“Tell me, Bucky. Are you invested in your outfit?” 

“Oh my god, please. Destroy it.” He stares up at you with such awestruck devotion. You lift up the skirt and cut through the torso of the dress. Bucky lets out an whorish moan even for him. His chest and abs out on open display and your mouth waters. As much as you loved seeing Bucky in the maid dress, this is fun too. You slowly drag the tip of the knife gently down his abdomen, muscles flexing under the cool touch of metal.The sounds of a rip makes you pause. You check and sure enough Bucky’s bulging metal bicep has ripped through the band of the dress. 

“Holy shit, I love you.” You smash your lips onto his for a messy kiss. Bucky is more than eager to slip his tongue into your mouth. You pull away when you need to breath and work on Bucky’s sleeve. The previous rip already making the cheap material easy to shred. You make the rip reach the slice you made and use the knife for the other sleeve. You put it back in it’s sheathe. Bucky maneuvers to the best of his ability so you can pull the maid dress out from underneath him. You pull his boxers down. His red and leaking cock hit his stomach. You grab the vibrator off the edge of the bed and turn it on it’s lowest setting. You drag the vibrator up and down the underside of his cock. He shouts out, muscles tensing at the stimulation. Just as quickly as you were touching him, you’ve stopped. You move the vibrator off him as you grin, bringing the vibrator to your clit through your slutty panties. You lose yourself in the vibrations before Bucky speaks out gruffly.

“Watch it, sweetheart. Whatever you do to me, I can do to you.” Your response is to turn up the setting on the vibrator and moan out. “Oh, c’mon, don’t you want my dick?” He rocks his hips up. “You can act like a tease all you want, but we both know you love leaking with my cum. You just love being filled to the brim as I fuck you through both of our orgasms.” You whimper out his name. “Yeah, honey, you were made to take this cock. Do such good job of it too. C’mon, please. Jus’ wanna feel you cum around me. That stupid piece of plastic can’t make you cum as hard as I can.” You thought you were slut for Bucky Barnes and that was before you heard his gravely begging underneath you. A whole new wave of want rushes through your veins and your shutting off the vibrator. Your hand pumps his dick a few times, leaking so much you don’t even need lube to touch him. 

“Fuck!” Bucky repeatedly chants as you finally grab the base of him and slide him into your entrance, panties pushed to the side. Bucky is gargantuan. He always is at the first slide. Your walls need a few seconds to accommodate him. During the time, Bucky’s muscles tense as he pants. He can’t do anything, but feel you. No outlet for the pent up energy he’s been harboring. He is literally so pretty, you can feel a heartbeat in your lower muscles. You grind on his dick, testing your limits. He groans. “Baby, I’m gonna you to-.” Bucky’s encouragement is cut off with a deep groan as you lift yourself off Bucky’s cock, tip just outside your entrance, and falling back on it. Bucky can’t stop his curses and groans as you do it again and again, eventually setting a nice pace for yourself. You ride Bucky’s dick in earnest. Closer than you realized with the previous vibrator and his dirty talk, you move in a way that feels good for you. Bucky’s pleasure an afterthought. With a hand pressed against his pectoral, you rock against him. You close your eyes and bite your lip, bringing your other hand to rub your clit.

“Oh my god, are you gonna cum already? How’s my cock feel, sweetheart? Such a cockslut, you’re already close. Look at me.” Bucky rocks his hips up as you drop down, causing you to gasp out his name. “Look. At. Me.” You open your eyes to glare down at him. You hands slides up to wrap around his thick neck. You can feel his racing pulse underneath your fingertips. 

“I swear if you ruin this for me, I’ll-” 

“You’ll what? What will you do?” Bucky waits for a response. You can’t, too tongue tied as your peak gets closer and closer. “That’s what I thought. Now be a good cockslut and cum on my cock.” You double down on your efforts until you’re cumming. Pleasure rolls up your spine. You’re movement falters as you get lost in your orgasm. Before you know it, you’re on your back, you’re supposed tied up boyfriend on top of you.  Bucky picks up your slack, fucking you at a brutal pace through your orgasm. 

“Wait, Bucky. How?” You brain tries to catch up as he gathers your wrists in his metal hand and pins them to the bed above your head. 

“You need to get better at tying, baby. Didn’t even have to break the restraints. They fell apart halfway through.” 

“Fuck.” The word you use is long and drawn out, arching your hips to meet Bucky’s thrusts. Having a supersoldier underneath you to use at your indiscretion was fun, but there truly is something about letting Bucky take the reins, rippling muscles of caged energy pressed against you. Bucky’s thrusts slow as his free hand searches for something on the bed. With a victorious grin, Bucky is turning on the vibrator at a higher setting than you previously had it. He slides it between your bodies to rest on your clit. The flimsy lace of your stretched out panties does nothing to barricade the pleasure. 

“You’ll cum for me, again. Right?” You curse his name, trying to buck away from the vibrator. The vibrations are too much for your sensitive clit. Bucky is persistent, keeping the vibrator pressed against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky. Please. Please. Please.” It’s your turn to repeat words, not exactly sure what your begging for. You just know the pleasure is almost too much. With the combination of Bucky’s girthy cock and the vibrator, it’s not long before you’re coming. Your muscles shake as your orgasm hits you. You moan until your voice runs hoarse. He keeps the vibrator on your clit until your orgasm is done. 

“Love it when you cum. Wish I could be in this pussy all day.” Bucky lets go of your wrist and cups your cheek tenderly. He ducks down for a filthy kiss, tongue included. Your muscles feel weighted, but you manage to match Bucky’s enthusiasm in his kiss. Before you can register it, your brain a little fuzzy from the two orgasms, you’re facing the sheets on your stomach. His cocks slips out during the commotion. Bucky lifts your upper half to lean against him so you’re on your knees, using his own knees to spread them. You head rolls down. 

You share the same qualities as a rag doll right now, joints weak and ears still ringing from your orgasm. Not that it’s stopping Bucky. Facing down, you get to witness Bucky’s angry, leaking, and glistening with your cum erection extending practically past your belly button as he ruts against your sex. Electric shocks are sent to your nervous system everytime Bucky manages to make contact with your clit. Your only thought is you want him to destroy you with his dick as he wraps his metal arm around your neck, head now resting against his clavicle. 

“Remember your colors, baby girl? What’s your color?” Bucky’s voice is in a low, hushed tone. His lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. You eyes flutter shut, hands moving to hold on to his forearm wrapped around your neck. 

“Green.” Even with your hazy mind and heavy tongue, you manage to answer Bucky. He presses a quick, stubbly kiss to your temple before turning his attention to your underwear. 

“These are unnecessary.” He grabs ahold the triangle of lacey material of your underwear and pulls. It doesn’t take much of Bucky’s strength for the strings of your underwear to snap. He throws the offending clothing over his shoulder. He flips his bowie knife out of the sheath strapped to his thigh. Bucky fucked the knife out of your memory. Goosebumps erupt onto your skin as he gently traces the knife’s tip up your stomach to slip underneath the band of your bra. “I’ll buy you a new set.” He says before slicing through the band of your bra with a flick of his wrist.  You gasp out and Bucky slices through the straps too. He flips his knife into the sheath and throws your bra away from you.

“Want your cock, Bucky. Please.”

“How could I say no to such pretty begging? I can’t let the cockslut be hungry for too long, now. Can I?” You can feel Bucky reaching his hand down over your abdomen and then the next thing you know, you’re being filled to the brim with cock. Okay, fuck what you said about the first slide. You’re pretty sure you could cum again at this slide. With your fucked out brain, there is so much of Bucky. Bucky sliding his cock in slow sure doesn’t help either. Bucky groans right next to your ear. It’s almost a sensory overload. You haven’t even registered you’re moaning yourself. Bucky finally- finally bottoms out, giving you time to catch your shuddering breath. “You still with me?” 

You manage to rasp out an affirmative. 

“Good girl.” And then Bucky is pulling out and thrusting in. You manage to get out a curse at the friction before Bucky truly starts to thrust into you. His pace picks up quickly. His powerful thighs slam into your slick ones as he rumbles deep within his chest. You can feel it throughout your whole torso. “Addicted to this pussy. Love how you feel around me.” Bucky moves his right hand to rub your abused clit. You grab ahold of his wrist. Bucky’s too stong to move his hand off your clit. You’re forced to feel the all the pleasure he gives you. 

“Aww, c’mon. You can cum for me one more time.” Bucky tucks his nose behind your ear and kisses underneath it. He changes the angle of his rubs and your thighs start to shake. “There you go, sweetheart. Just one more.” Bucky’s metal bicep bulges making it a little harder to breathe as he thrusts faster. The two previous orgasms make you sensitive.  In just a few meager minutes, you can feel the rise of your orgasm. This orgasm hits you harder than the previous two. The pleasure takes you over in waves. Your thighs shake as Bucky fucks you through it. He moans louder than you sounding like he enjoys you’re orgasm almost as much as you. He finally notices your fingers digging into his skin and stops rubbing your clit. 

“God, baby. I’m so close. Gonna let me use you?” 

You nodd. 

“Say it.”

“Use me. Wanna feel you cum in me.” You rasp out with an even heavier mind. Bucky lets out a whorish moan as his thrusts get even more energetic. It shouldn’t be possible, but then you wouldn’t be dating a super soldier. Within just a few more thrusts, you can feel Bucky flood your insides. He groans as he slows down to prolong his orgasm. Bucky was hot before, but he’s even hotter as he coming. The only thing you dislike about this position is not being able to see Bucky’s abs contract as he cums. You can still feel his abs jump against you lower back. Bucky’s thrusts eventually die down until he’s just bottomed out in you. He takes a minute to catch his breath before he uncurls his arm off your throat, keeping his right hand on your hip to steady you.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he gently slips out and sets you on the bed. 

“Tired.” 

“I know and you can rest in a bit, but we gotta get cleaned up first.” You groan at that. “C’mon, baby. I’ll grab the washcloth.” The smile in Bucky’s voice is prominent as he gets out of bed. You can hear him rummaging around in the attached bathroom as you rest your eyes. You fall asleep before Bucky can bring out the warm wet washcloth. He still wipes you down while you’re half asleep before joining you back in bed.

Bucky will be there in the morning to massage out your sore muscles because Bucky is a good boyfriend. And if you happen to order the same maids dress the next day only to leave it in the exact same spot the previous package was in, Bucky doesn’t bring it up. He just adds it to the back of his closet when you’re not looking.

[fanficimagery]

Hell Takes Riverdale pt. II

Imagine moving to Riverdale while your father has some business to attend to. While there, you meet some people you find yourself growing attached to. (In which the other three most important serpents accept Y/N and shit goes down).

You can find part one right HERE.

Words: 12.9K Author’s Note: Violence. Somewhat.

For the next couple of days, you're a little bummed that no one other than Jughead texts you to see what you're up to. You respect your friends' decision to distance themselves, but it still hurts. And not even Jughead's words of assurance are enough to ease your mind.

Your mood sours even more when you and your dad are visited by the Plague Kings who are rather pushy and wondering about when their Queen will return to finally marry a Prince of their choosing. Lucifer managed to make you bite your tongue, answering their questions with questions of his own and annoying them enough that they returned to Hell rather quickly.

"I am not marrying Caliban, dad," you tell him. "The only reason they're pushing this marriage is because they don't like a woman in charge. You have no idea how close I am to just putting Lilith in charge in my absence."

Lucifer chuckles. "Fret not, darling. As soon as Riverdale sees the error of their ways I will be returning to Hell to reclaim my throne." You frown and your dad's smile turns genuine, not a hint of mockery in his tone or expression. "I wanted you to rule Hell, but you've seem to have found your footing here on Earth."

"Dad.."

"So I'll reclaim Hell and leave you with Riverdale. All I want for you is to be happy, my darling daughter, and if those in Riverdale give you that happiness, then who am I to take that away and make you rule a place where your subjects would see you dead rather than on the throne?"

"I don't know about that," you mumble. "The only ones speaking to me right now are Jughead and FP."

"The others will come around. Trust me. Especially little miss Pinky. She's been yelling at the boys to get their head out of their asses."

"Yeah? If that were the case then she would have visited me herself with or without the boys."

"Give them a bit more time. It's like FP said- they're a loyal bunch. They just need to wrap their minds around a few things."

"If you say so." You watch as your dad fiddles with his cufflinks. "Well while you're out ruining lives, I'll be downstairs in the theatre. I don't feel like going out tonight."

Lucifer chuckles. "Sweetheart, you haven't been out in the last few nights. Or to school for that matter, but I get it. Shall I tell your friends where you are if they ask?"

"I don't care, dad. Tell them whatever you want."

Before your dad can leave, you head downstairs to the basement where you set up a movie theatre in your free time. Closest to the stairs, a kitchenette of sorts was installed so you didn't have to go far for snacks, a projector hung from the center of the ceiling and was pointed towards the back wall where a large white screen was installed. There's a large sofa in the middle of the room, which is larger than a king sized bed, and a speaker in every corner of the room so you can really enjoy whatever movie or show you watch.

After turning on the projector and searching for something to watch on your laptop, you settle down in the middle of the sofa and snuggle down with a blanket and pillows. You're watching a show where each episode is about a different murder mystery and you're two episodes in when the doorbell rings. You groan and remain laying down, hoping whoever is at the door goes away, when it rings again.

Pausing the show, you roll out of your haven of comfort and trudge upstairs. You yank open the front door upon the third ringing of the bell and not even the sight of three faces you'd been longing to see is enough to pull you from your funk. "What?"

Toni's eyebrows raise at your tone and the two boys grin at your pouty expression. Sweet Pea reaches forward, tugging on a loose strand of hair. "And to think you're the daughter of the devil. You're as adorable as an angry kitten."

You slap at his hand, exhaling loudly as the three of them chuckle. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Can't we visit our friend?" Fangs shrugs. Your expression softens just so at the casual mention of him calling you their friend. "It's been a few days. We missed you glaring the Ghoulies into submission at school."

"That and we might have overheard your dad telling FP about some demons demanding you return to Hell and marry some douchebag prince," Toni says. "No way are you running off and getting hitched before you tell us what the hell that is all about."

You glance between all three of them and, seeing as they're trying, you decide to let them in. "If you're going to stay, shoes come off. We're going to be in the theatre."

"Theatre?" Sweet Pea wonders.

Finally grinning, you step back from the door and gesture them inside. Seeing that you're in socks, Toni readily kicks off her boots. Fangs shrugs and does the same, and Sweet Pea sighs before toeing off his own boots as well.

Afterwards you lead them down into the basement and choke down a laugh when Toni gasps at your setup. "We've been having sleepovers and movie nights at my trailer when you had this beneath your house?!"

"Well to be fair, I couldn't bring any of you over because I couldn't risk anyone from Hell popping in while I had you over." Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs all tense and you crawl onto the sofa to get comfortable. "But they've been chased away for now so there's no worry." Slowly but surely your friends crawl in, but only Toni is brave enough to sit directly next to you. Fangs stays on Toni's other side while Sweet Pea lays across the end of the sofa. "So any questions before I restart my murder mystery marathon?"

"Well you can start with these plague kings or whatever the hell your dad was talking about," Sweet Pea says. "What's their deal?"

You sigh, dragging a blanket to cover your lap. "So the thing is," you start to tell them, "the throne was never meant to be mine. Lucifer had his sights set on his first born daughter since she's a witch-"

"Witches exist?!" Fangs exclaims.

"Yep. So do a lot of other things," you muse. "I'd stay away from Greendale if I were you." His eyes widen, but Toni and Sweet Pea merely chuckle. "Anyway, my sister was supposed to take after my dad, but she refused him. She was raised to believe Lucifer was the ultimate evil and she didn't want to follow in his footsteps."

"So when do you come in?" Toni asks.

"About a few years ago," you admit. "When my sister refused him, Lucifer sought me out since I'm only a couple hours younger. He brought me into the fold, showed me and told me everything I'd need to know, and I accepted. I learned all about the ins and outs of Hell, learned exactly who is who, but since I'm still half mortal none of the higher ups don't exactly accept me. My coronation almost didn't happen, but it did and now the Plague Kings have been hounding my dad to marry me off to some prince Caliban since he was quite literally made in Hell."

"Well you aren't going through with it, are you?" Sweet Pea asks.

"Ugh. No," you scoff. "I was meant to rule a lot longer than what I have, but no one could have guessed that I'd get attached to a couple of snakes here in Riverdale." You glance at Toni and nudge her arm. "So as of right now, my dad is closing up a few deals before he reclaims his throne down in Hell and I'm left up here in the mortal realm to do as I please. I'll still be obligated to visit Hell, but my main residence will be here."

"And you're okay with that?" Toni asks. "Giving up the title of queen, I mean."

"Of course. I spent many years not knowing who my biological father was and living life like a normal mortal," you say. "I have quite a few perks now, my dad has made a mortal his best friend for the first time ever, and I- I like it here. I like you guys."

"Aww," Toni coos. "You're giving up a throne for us?"

"I guess so." You glance between all three of them. "So are we going to watch something or are we going to play twenty questions all night?"

Fangs glances around, spotting your laptop and pulling it into his lap to search through Netflix. "If we're watching something, we're not watching murder mysteries. Riverdale is weird enough."

Sweet Pea huffs. "You got that right."

"Fine. Pick whatever you want."

Fangs and Sweet Pea settle on the Conjuring much to Toni's dismay and your amusement. You and Toni prop up a mountain of pillows at your back while Fangs uses Toni's thigh as his pillow. Sweet Pea snags a pillow of his own, laying on his side and shoving the pillow between his arm and head as he faces the screen. You turn out the lights, Fangs hits play, and you watch the tale unfold about a haunted house that terrorizes a family. There are a few eerie moments and jump scares that startle all four of you, but only you and Toni roll into each other giggling while the boys swear at you.

Then after the first movie ends, everyone takes a pee break and you lead Toni into your room so she can find something more comfortable to wear seeing as they plan to watch a couple more movies. When you get back down into the basement, you smile as you realize the boys have made full use of the kitchenette and have snacks and drinks waiting for you all on the sofa, and the Conjuring 2 waiting to be played. When the boys complain about the unfairness of your comfort clothes, you tell them you can grab them pajama bottoms from your dad's dresser for them. They hesitate and Toni rolls her eyes, telling you to grab some pants for them. And a little while later, after the boys have changed into the cotton pajama pants, you can't help but laugh as they boast about wearing the devil's pants.

As everyone finally settles down, the boys join you and Toni at the sofa's backrest. You and her are in the middle with Fangs on her other side and Sweet Pea on yours. The lights turn out again, the movie plays, and you soak in the closeness of your friends. Halfway through the boys collect the bowls and trash, and take it to the kitchenette. You and Toni stretch out then, laying on your sides in the middle of the sofa with you cuddling her from behind as you face the screen. The boys coo and Fangs dives in front of Toni so she can cuddle him and Sweet Pea hesitantly slides in behind you. You grin at him over your shoulder and then try to focus back on the movie.

"Is this okay?" Sweet Pea murmurs, his large hand squeezing your hip.

His lips brushing the shell of your ear makes you shiver. "Mhm." You pause to clear your throat and lean back a little bit until the back of your shoulder hits his chest. "If, uh, if my dad shows up just ignore his orgy comments."

He chuckles. "What?"

"Apparently orgies are common down in the pits. Everyone's been waiting for the Queen- soon to be Princess again- to have her first one, but I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."

"What!?" The movie is paused and Fangs immediately turns around, Toni grunting but turning as much as she can as well. "You're gonna have an orgy?!"

"What? No!" You laugh. You gulp when you feel Sweet Pea squeeze your hip again. "I just said I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."

"Think being the key word," Toni muses and you groan.

"Well if you agree to one, in Hell or Riverdale, think of me. I'll join." Fangs winks at you and Toni laughs.

"Screw it. Count me in too."

You giggle, shaking your head at them. "Guys, you were literally scared of me days of ago because of who I am and now you wanna have sex with me?"

"Well not with you exactly," Fangs says. "Don't get me wrong, you're hot, but someone's already called dibs and-"

"What?" You frown.

Fangs eyes seem to widen then, momentarily darting over your head. "N-Nothing. Nevermind." Toni giggles at his rambling. "But yeah, orgies. Woo."

Having heard enough, Toni pushes Fangs' forehead away from her so he'll turn around. "Can we table the topic of orgies for now? Let's get back to our movie."

Fangs grumbles but turns around nonetheless and the movie resumes.

You get through the second movie with no problem, but before a third could be chosen a loud crack of thunder interrupts the tranquility of the basement.

"Shit." Sweet Pea is the first to rush off the sofa, followed by Fangs and then Toni. Everyone scrambles upstairs and the front door is thrown open, and all three groan at the drizzle that will no doubt turn into a full blown downpour in no time. "We need to move our bikes."

"The garage," you tell them. "Bring them into the garage." Your hurry towards the kitchen where there's a door that connects to the garage, hitting a switch that opens up the door. You step down, watching as your three friends drive their bikes into the safety of the garage so the rain won't ruin their leather seats. "All good?" You ask as they turn off the engines and dismount.

Another crack of thunder has you flinching and hugging yourself. Sweet Pea eyes you warily and you offer him a feeble smile. "You good?" He asks instead.

"Mhm. I'm just- I'm not a fan of thunderstorms."

Toni grins. "Seriously? You see demons on the reg and you're afraid of a little lightning and thunder?"

"I know. It's dumb. Can we go back downstairs now or do you need another change of clothes? You guys can spend the night if you want so you don't have to drive on slick roads."

"We're hardly even damp," Toni tells you. "We're fine."

You flinch yet again when the thunder cracks, louder now, and Sweet Pea chuckles at you. You frown at him, walking back into your house after hitting the switch to close the garage. The others follow you and you head back down into the basement, readily climbing under the blankets.

"Aw. Don't worry, Y/N. We'll protect you." As Sweet Pea crawls back in, he pillows his head on your chest and wraps an arm around your stomach.

For some reason, being weighed down seems to calm you so you lay one hand on his arm over your stomach and the other around his back to let him know you were okay with his position. Fangs grins at you and Toni smiles warmly, her eyes darting between you and Sweet Pea before the two of them settle down on your other side.

Apparently Fangs has taken it upon himself to pick what you're watching and you're so wrapped up in the fact a thunderstorm is raging outside that you don't mind his choosing of the Fast and the Furious. Then during the second movie in that series, the boys have apparently fallen asleep and you know you'll be joining them soon.

"I think I've figured it out."

Toni's voice startles you and you quickly run your fingers through Sweet Pea's hair, gently scratching at his scalp to calm him back to sleep. "Figured what out?" You mumble.

"That serpent you had your eye on." You freeze and she quietly giggles. "It's Sweet Pea, isn't it?"

You mull over her words for a moment until you exhale softly. "Yes, but I'm pretty sure being the daughter of the devil killed any chance we could have had."

"Are you kidding me? That boy is head over heels," Toni says. "Yes, your true identity threw him off a little, but I mean look at him! He's wrapped around you, head on your tits." You can't help but giggle, frowning at Toni when Sweet Pea stirs yet again. "Shut up. You're gonna wake him up."

"You two are adorable. He's not as aggressive when you're around and I've noticed tonight you smile a little bit brighter when it comes to him. I give you guys a couple of weeks top before someone makes a move."

"You're delusional, Topaz. Get some sleep."

She smiles at you. "Just you wait and see, Morningstar. And besides, you didn't see his face when we were talking about orgies. If looks could kill, Fangs would be dead right now."

"Mhm. We'll see."

Over the next couple of weeks, the three friends of yours seem to be at ease with you once more. Jughead was always at ease with you and your dad, so it was a relief when Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs started loosening up as well. There were times, however, when Sweet Pea and Fangs would straighten up whenever your dad walked into the room and that highly amused you every single time.

Your basement seemed to become hangout central and Jughead often joked that it was a shame everyone knew about it now. Which then led to Fangs and Sweet Pea ganging up on him for keeping it a secret.

You, Toni, Jughead, and Sweet Pea find yourselves at Pop's one day while Fangs went to visit a family member. You and Sweet Pea are practically sitting thigh to thigh on one side of the booth with Toni and Jug across from you. Toni, to this day, hasn't let you live it down that you have a crush on her longtime friend and it seems Jughead has now noticed it too. It also doesn't help that Sweet Pea is oddly rather touchy and has taken to slinging his arm across your shoulders whenever you're near- something which sets your heart racing every single time and fighting off a telltale blush that threatens to bloom.

"Alright," Jughead muses as Pop delivers your milkshakes, "so we were meant to celebrate the good news together, but Fangs isn't here so we'll just have celebratory shakes instead."

Your brow furrows. "Celebrate what?"

"You haven't heard?" Toni wonders. "Y/N, your dad bought Sunnyside Trailer Park." Your eyes widen and your friends chuckle at your expression.

"He visited my dad a few weeks ago and was appalled at our living conditions."

"Oh no," you mumble. "He was rude, wasn't he? I'm so so-"

"Actually," Toni interrupts, "he wasn't. "Either the devil has seriously gone soft or he's always been this amazing person because not only did he wipe out rent for everyone in the park, but he's also having the trailers renovated. My grandpa is seriously so happy to have his porch and the leaky roof in his bedroom fixed."

"Oh." You allow yourself to relax. "That's seriously really cool of him," you say. "I wonder why he didn't tell me?"

"Y/N!" Your attention is quickly diverted to Veronica Lodge as she marches up to you, milkshake in hand, and Archie trailing after her as he quietly tries to direct her elsewhere. "What the hell is your dad playing at?"

You frown as you stare up at her, Sweet Pea's arm tightening around you as he tries to pull you closer to him. "Excuse me?"

"Every bank account under my family's name, personal and business, has been frozen. Care to explain?"

It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do you hold back a snort that wants to break free. Your father was very vindictive. "I don't know what to tell you, Veronica. I don't put my nose where it doesn't belong. Maybe you should take a page out of my book and stay out of it."

She scoffs. "Please. Daddy has eyes everywhere. We know you're in the thick of things as well. You're not fooling anyone, Y/N. You're exactly like your mafioso father."

"Mafioso? You think my dad is part of the mafia?" You giggle. Toni, Jughead, and Sweet Pea share your amusement. "Oh Veronica," you coo, "the only mafioso in this town is your crooked father. And at that he's not very good at it, is he?"

Before anyone can even blink, the strawberry milkshake in her hand is being up-ended on your face. "Ronnie!" Archie is quick to yank her back, stepping in front of her as Sweet Pea growls and moves to stand up.

But since he's stuck between you and the wall, you raise your arm closest to him and drag him back down by his wrist. With your free hand, you wipe away some of the milkshake from your cheek with your forefinger and pop it in your mouth, sucking it clean. "Delicious," you purr. Grabbing the offered napkin from a still shell shocked Jughead, you wipe more of it out of your eyes. "Hate me all you want Veronica, but your family won't be crawling out of this hole your father dug. Enjoy the luxuries you still have while they last because the Lodge's are done." Veronica huffs, stomping away in a fit of anger. You smirk, chuckling as the other few patrons sitting around stare at you in shock, picking up more napkins to clean your face and shirt when you notice Archie Andrews still standing by the booth. "Yes?"

He shoves his hands in his jean's pockets, staring off in the direction his girlfriend left before looking at you yet again. "All I've been hearing for this past month is what a horrible man your father is." You blink at him, wondering where he's going with this. "So give it to me straight, Y/N. Does my dad have anything to worry about with your dad?"

And oh. Okay. Now you understand why he stayed back and why he's worried. Your father basically ruined the Lodge's, but Archie's never been terrible to you so you decide to ease his mind. "Mr. Andrews has nothing to worry about," you tell him honestly. "Apparently my dad's on the track of doing several good deeds for the town of Riverdale and FP told my dad all about Fred Andrews' hard working nature. He only wants to help those he thinks deserve the help. No strings attached."

"It's true," Jughead tells his friend. "Mr. Morningstar bought Southside High and got jingle jangle out of the halls."

"He bought Sunnyside and wiped out our rent," Sweet Pea says. "There's a crew coming in that's going to start hauling out all the junk and fixing up our trailers."

"In the couple of months that Mr. Morningstar has been here, he's purchased and cleaned up the southside rather than tearing our school and homes down and building over it," Toni tells him. "Could you say Hiram Lodge would have done the same for us?"

Archie shifts uncomfortably under everyone's gaze and you say, "Hiram and my dad had business dealings going back to before we were born. He royally messed up and my dad cleaned it up." You then offer him a faint grin. "My dad is not the horrible person you've no doubt heard about from your girlfriend and her family. Keep that in mind."

The redhead nods. "Thanks. And uh, I'm sorry about Veronica. I tried to stop her."

You shrug. "No harm done. The clothes can be washed. You and me are good, but if your girlfriend steps up to me again I won't be settling things with words."

He huffs a small laugh. "Duly noted." He then glances at the occupant across the booth from you. "See you around, Jug."

As soon as Archie takes his leave, your three friends all converge on you.

"Are you okay?" Jughead immediately asks.

"Girl, you have been blessed with the patience of a million people because I would have lunged across this table if it weren't for your calm demeanor," Toni says.

"I was so close to shanking her," Sweet Pea mumbles.

You snort and swat at his chest with the back of your hand. "It's just a little ice cream, guys. No biggie." You pull at your shirt, nose wrinkling. "I'm just going to go clean up in the bathroom. I'll be back."

"Oh hey," Toni climbs over the back of her seat, hopping out of the booth behind her to meet you, "I have some clothes in my bike's bag if you're interested."

"Yeah. Just bring it to the bathroom."

You head to the bathroom, not caring a bit about your clothes and instead turn on the water at the sink to wash off the stickiness of the ice cream that stayed behind on your skin. Toni appears not a minute later, clothes in hand, and you readily strip out of your jeans right then and there. She doesn't bat an eye and tosses you the pants first.

When you catch them, you give her a deadpan stare which she laughs at. "Leather? Seriously?"

"Put them on, Y/N."

You grumble all the while, putting one leg in and then the other, you almost falling a couple of times as you drag the leather up your legs. Toni is no help, she laughing at your misfortune and then at your exasperated, "Fucking hell. How do you breathe in these?" She tosses the shirt at you next and you glare when you see all the mesh involved. "My tits are gonna be out."

"No they won't. There's material sewn in so there no nip slips. You'll just be showing off the perfect amount of skin."

"I hate you." You strip off your shirt, turning around and stripping off your bra as well. You pull the long sleeve shirt on, frowning when you realize there's only a single band of material that wraps around your breasts. Everything else is see through. "I seriously hate you."

"Yeah well you're about to hate me more."

Toni quickly grabs up your discarded clothing and books it out of the bathroom, you lunging after her. She laughs as she makes a break for the exit and you freeze right before you can enter the main part of the diner. Through the windows you can see her stashing your clothes in the bag on her bike and you mumble threats at her as she re-enters the diner, walking towards the boys.

You've worn a couple of risqué outfits in front of your friends by now, but the shirt makes you feel really exposed. So after gathering your wits, and wishing you could just disappear in a swirl of flames, you march out from behind the wall and towards your friends. Sweet Pea is the first to see you and his eyes widen before they glance up and down your form. Jughead and Toni turn around in their seats, Jug's eyes widening before he laughs and Toni snapping a few photos on her phone. You pout at them as you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm ready to go now. Toni's clothes and I do not mix."

Sweet Pea seems to snap out of his stupor long enough to stand up and shed his jacket, then draping it over your shoulders. You exhale in relief and quickly shove your arms through the sleeves, smiling up at him until Toni coos and your gaze darts to her. If looks could kill, your friend would be seriously maimed.

"So are you guys ready for the Whyte Wyrm?" Jughead asks. "Fangs texted that he's on the way there right now."

"Sure, but we're swinging by my house first so I can get back into my own clothes."

"Do we have to?" Sweet Pea's voice rumbles directly above you. "I'm kind of into this look you have going on right now."

You freeze and glance upward, reaching out to poke his chest. "Don't press your luck, Sweets. Now come on. You're driving me."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckles and follows after you.

Jughead and Toni watch as their friends leave, grinning at the sight of their friend swamped in Sweet Pea's serpent jacket. "Is it just me or is Sweet Pea seriously sweet on the devil's daughter?"

Toni chuckles. "That's nothing. You should see the way they sleep when we spend the night down in the theatre. You would think Y/N would be wrapped around him, but nope. Sweet Pea uses Y/N as his personal pillow and practically glares Fangs to death every time Lucifer brings up orgies."

Jughead's laugh falters. "O-Orgies?"

"Yeah. Apparently they're part of the norm down in Hell. I'm pretty sure Lucifer is gonna give Pea a heart attack one of these days if he keeps mentioning Y/N having her first one."

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Life with the devil and his daughter just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"Preaching to the choir, Jug."

You're at home, alone for a change, and making yourself something to eat. Every now and then you just needed a day or two for yourself to decompress and it was something that your new friends seemed to understand. Especially since the Ghoulies started to push back, something having changed within their ranks and making them that much more cocky, and you had your hands full with them. But thankfully, they couldn't reclaim the school.

You manage to eat at least half a plate pasta when your cell rings, the unknown number making you frown. You take a sip of water before answering.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?" Toni's voice wavers over the line. "You need to get down to the hospital."

"Hospital?" You sit a little straighter in your seat. "What happened?"

"It's Jughead." She says. "The Ghoulies and Penny beat him. It's not good, Y/N."

The blood in your veins runs cold. You mind blanks before rage seeps in. "They what?" You seethe.

"FP's a mess. And they also stabbed Fangs, but it's nothing serious. And Sweet Pea-"

"What did they do to Sweet Pea?"

"He's fine." She's quick to assure you. "He's the least injured with a busted lip and bruised eye. He's more pissed and worried about Jug and Fangs right now."

You can feel your body trembling. "Toni, is there anyone around you right now?"

"No. The payphone was down some deserted hallway."

"Good. Give me a few seconds and I'll be right there." You hang up on her, pushing up from your chair and rushing down the hall to put on some shoes. You forgo any type of jacket, your cable knit sweater and plaid skirt just going to have to do. You inhale and exhale deeply, closing your eyes and concentrating on Toni. Once you feel like you've sussed her out, you will yourself to be taken to her and the telltale whoosh of flames lets you know they've done their job. When your eyes open, Toni's staring wide-eyed at you. "Take me to the boys."

Toni numbly nods, turning around and rushing down the hall. You're fast on her heels, your rage still boiling beneath the surface. Especially when you're led to the waiting room where your dad casually sits in a chair and FP paces in front of him. Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper are a few chairs down, and Sweet Pea is not far from them.

You completely pass up your dad and FP, heading straight for Sweet Pea. When he sees you, he attempts to stand but you catch his face in your hands and gently cradle it to examine his wounds. "What happened?"

"Ghoulies," he mumbles. His hands come up to wrap around your wrists, trying to smile reassuringly at you, but then flinching when his split lip stretches. "And Penny. She's back and out for your blood."

"She's dead," you murmur.

Sweet Pea's eyes widen. "Y/N-"

"Don't." You meet his gaze and you can see the concern there. You offer him a feeble smile in return, leaning down and pressing your lips to his forehead. "She will not get away with touching what is mine. She's dead."

As you pull back to make sure he understands you're being serious, you see him gulp and tersely nod. You drop your hands and step back from him, and he's quick to stand. Towering over you, he reaches down and grabs your hand within his own. He seems almost nervous about his move, but you merely squeeze his hand in response and lead him towards FP. Your dad stands as you pass him this time, joining you, Sweet Pea, and the elder Jones in the corner of the waiting room.

"I am so sorry, FP," you tell him.

He glances at you, eyes red-rimmed as he smoothes his hair back with one hand. "Not your fault, kid. I should have known Penny wouldn't have been kept at bay so easily. Or that she'd sit idly by as Lucifer took up Ghoulie territory."

You shake your head at him. "Penny doesn't know what we're truly capable of- she only thinks we're good with our fists and blades. She doesn't know that by touching my boys, she just signed her death certificate."

FP blinks at you as Lucifer chuckles. "Ding dong the witch is dead."

"So dead," you quietly seethe. Glancing up at Sweet Pea, you say, "I need you to take me to where they're laying low."

"I'm not taking you directly to them. It's you they're after, Y/N. Penny knew the only way to make you a loose cannon was to attack those closest to you."

"I am not a loose cannon, Pea. I am focused." You squeeze his hand. "I've never been this focused before, but if you won't take me I'll just get my dad to suss her out and you'll miss all the action."

"We'll take you," FP says. "I wanna be there for her downfall."

"And the Ghoulies," you tell him. "Whoever laid a finger on the boys are all going down."

Sweet Pea sighs. "You're gonna be the death of me." Lucifer full blown smirks and FP cracks a grin at the serpent in distress. "Fine. We'll take you, but you're riding with me."

And if they didn't think you were serious before, they know now seeing as you didn't make a joke about riding with FP like you normally would have given the chance.

Toni steps up to the group then, FP grasping her by the shoulder and leaning in to murmur, "Stay with Jug. We'll be back." She looks at you, but you subtly shake your head and she takes a seat in one of the waiting room chairs.

Hand in hand, you and Sweet Pea stalk out of the hospital with FP at your side. Lucifer decides to hang back as well, saying he's just going to check on Jughead as soon as he can and jumpstart the boy's healing process.

On the back of Pea's bike, you hang on to his waist and let the wind whip at your face and hair. Your rage at Penny and the Ghoulies has overcome you, that not even the sting of the cold air or cold drizzle is enough to faze you. It's about a ten minute ride to the clearing and by the time you get there your rage has made you eerily calm. The bikes are shut off and off in the distance, just beyond a bridge, there are several barrels emitting flames. As you climb off, FP and Sweet Pea stand on either side of you as they glance around your surroundings.

"Whatever you see, let it happen. I won't be responsible for what happens if anyone tries to interfere with what I'm doing."

The both of them mumble their acknowledgements and then you're walking. The clearing seems void of any life, but then the blonde bitch you watched Maze beat down and threaten over a month ago saunters out from between the trees. And she's not alone. About ten to fifteen Ghoulies come out from between the trees behind her and spread out.

"Tall Boy?" You glance at FP and follow his gaze, frowning at the semi-familiar Serpent standing with Penny Peabody.

"Told you going after the Jones kid would bring the little bitch out." Tall Boy chuckles and Penny looks like Christmas has come early.

"What the hell, man?!" Sweet Pea shouts. "You sent the Snake Charmer and her junkie little lap dogs after us? Serpents don't betray Serpents!"

"That's rich coming from you, boy." He huffs. Tall Boy points at FP as he says, "He teamed up with outsiders and practically lets them have free reign of the Whyte Wyrm."

"And don't forget he let his little lap dogs take me out of town and cut me up," Penny says. "But now I'm back, better than ever, and I'm out for blood. That," she points directly at you, "little bitch's blood to be exact."

Sweet Pea steps forward in your defense, but you grab his arm and pull him back. FP steps up to your side again, clearly not letting Tall Boy's betrayal go. "So what? Say you do take out Lucifer and Y/N. What is that going to solve? You're out Tall Boy. Exiled. You have no home here. Not anymore."

He shrugs. "Well then I guess I'll take out their king and rule the Serpents myself."

"I'd like to see you try." Everyone glances at you, your too calm tone seeming out of place for the current confrontation taking place. "Let's go, Tall Boy. You and me. Right here, right now."

"Uh, Y/N?" Sweet Pea says.

You step forward, gaze set on the Serpent in question. "What's wrong, Tall Boy? Are you afraid of a little girl?"

Tall Boy, Penny, and all the hopped up Ghoulies laugh, and you step forward. Tall Boy meets you halfway, grinning. "As soon as I'm done with you, my boys are gonna carve up your boys and then I'm gonna make a quick trip down to the hospital and finish what we started with Jughead."

"Oh Tall Boy," you mockingly smile. "Shut the fuck up."

He lunges forward to grab you, but you're quick to duck into a crouch and send your fist flying into his groin. You slide to the right and kick in the back of his knee, then sweeping his legs out from under him. You slap a hand down on his forehead, Tall Boy's screams resonating around the clearing as he convulses beneath your hand. You glance up and meet Penny's gaze head on. Her eyes widen and you sneer at her, and then you look back down at Tall Boy as you release him.

"Exile is too good for the likes of you," you say as he tries to scramble to his feet. On his forehead, there appears to be three claw marks branded there. "So I want you to run like the hounds of hell are after you, Tall Boy. Because they will be." As if on cue, eerie howls rip through the air and you slowly stand tall. Everyone tenses and glances around, but only Tall Boy seems to be staring at something that only he can see. You glance over your shoulder, grinning as two hellhounds step out from the shadows and brush up against FP and Sweet Pea. The two of them freeze and shift to the side, and you beckon the hellhounds closer to you. They stand at your side, under your palms, and you grin at Tall Boy. "Run, Tall Boy. My babies are hungry."

The hellhounds snarl as Tall Boy turns around to run and you click your tongue a minute later to let the hounds loose. Tall Boy can be heard screaming deep into the windows and you smile innocently at Penny and all the Ghoulies. A Ghoulie steps forward, taking Tall Boy's place next to Penny. His wild and curly hair hangs to his shoulders, and black coal is smeared across his eyes which seem a little too wide for any sober person.

"One down," you muse. "Who's next?"

"What the hell did you do to Tall Boy?" Penny seethes. She steps forward and you smile at her.

"Penny, Penny, Penny," you tut. "You're in no position to be asking questions." Your smile drops as your gaze hardens. "You should have listened and stayed out of Riverdale."

"Who the hell do you think you are, little girl?"

"Why I'm the queen of hell, of course." You smile innocently as lightning suddenly forks across the sky and everyone ducks on instinct. Penny and her ghoulish companion look up before they glance warily back at you, and you smirk. "Now kneel." A moment of silence passes before Penny and her friends laugh. Your smirk drops. "I said kneel!" You snap your fingers and everyone standing across from you falls to their knees. They glance around wildly, not knowing why they listened.

You stalk forward, your feet unknowingly leaving behind smoldering prints and lightning flashes ominously across the sky. "You mortals never listen," you seethe, your voice changing and sending chills down everyone's spine. "And now I'm going to finish what Mazikeen should have done the first time around."

Penny spits at your feet. "Screw you. You don't have what it takes to play with the adults, sweetheart."

"No?" You walk forward until you're just in front of Penny, reaching out and walking your fingers along her forehead until she jerks out of reach. "I command a legion of demons, sweetheart," you mock her. "You have no idea what I'm capable of." Penny opens her mouth to no doubt spew some idiot bullshit and you sigh. "Bored now. Bye bye, Snake Charmer." You shove your palm against Penny's forehead, smiling as a glow emits from your palm and seeps into her head.

Her mouth gapes open as she screams, her own eyes and mouth slowly emitting the same glow from your hand before her screams die out and she falls back. Dead.

Her ghoulish companion stares up at you in fear. "What the fuck are you?"

"Don't you listen, Malachi?" You sweetly coo. His eyes subtly widen at you knowing who he is.

"Queen of Hell. Yeah, I got that," he says. Suddenly his resolve seems to harden. "But what you don't seem to know is that you messed with the wrong ghoul. You see, I overthrow royalty." Before you can blink, his arm is raising and you see the glint of a blade a second too late.

The sharpened metal is embedded in your gut and he laughs cruelly.

"Y/N!" Sweet Pea and FP yell.

But you merely stumble back a single step, glancing down at the knife before you grab the hilt and yank it free. Dropping it, you look at Malachi from under your lashes. "That was a very stupid move." He snorts, but before he can say another word you reach forward with both hands and twist his head violently to the side.

As you glance up at the rest of the Ghoulies, you're met with fearful stares. You want to make each and every one of them suffer, every single face staring up at you guilty for having taken part in putting Jug and Fangs in the hospital. Stalking towards the first Ghoulie, you ignore their whimpers and press a single finger to the middle of their forehead. "Death is too harsh at the moment for the lot of you," you say. The Ghoulie beneath your finger screams before passing out, he falling limp to the ground. "So live your life to the fullest," you say as you touch the next one, "because the moment you cease to live, your soul will be dragged to Hell where you'll be tortured over and over and over again." At the next Ghoulie, you chuckle. "You really shouldn't have touched what was mine."

One by one, the Ghoulies fall unconscious under your hand. The clearing is littered with unconscious junkies, and by the time you turn around FP and Sweet Pea are a lot closer than they were earlier. FP is staring at you like he can't believe what he's just seen, but Sweet Pea's gaze is set on your abdomen where your blood has soaked through your sweater. You glance down, pressing your hand to your wound and then bringing your hand away soaked with blood.

"Oh. Well that's not good." You stumble backwards, but hands are quick to catch you before you can fall. Looking up at your savior, you smile shakily at the boy who had quickly won over your affections. "Hey Pea."

"Hey." His own smile is shaky as well, but the concern is clear as day. "You put on quite the show there, babe. What the hell did you do to the Ghoulies?"

"N-Nothing. Just branded their souls for a f-future trip down to Hell. And I made them forget what they'd seen here so they can't tell anyone."

FP comes up to your side then, grinning. "Smart move, Morningstar. Now come on. Let's get you to the hospital. We need to get you checked out."

Your teeth chatter as you nod. "O-Okay."

You gasp as Sweet Pea literally sweeps you off your feet, one arm beneath your knees and the other supporting your upper back as he walks you towards his bike. Instead of reprimanding him for the sudden movement, you lean your head against his chest and let your eyes fall shut. Gosh, you're so sleepy.

"Hey. Y/N, wake up."

"M'tired."

"I know, babe, but you still need to keep your eyes open."

"Five more minutes."

Sweet Pea sighs. "If you don't open up your eyes, you're gonna miss a shirtless FP."

Your nose wrinkles and a moment passes before you crack open one eye. "You're a dirty rotten liar, Pea."

His upper body shakes with his quiet laughter. "Did you really just open one eye to see if I was telling the truth?"

"I'm injured. Don't mock me."

"You're right. I'm sorry," he muses. "Now come on. I really need you to open your eyes. You need to be alert so you don't fall off the back of my bike."

You groan. "Fine. But when I fall asleep at the hospital, you're not allowed to wake me up."

"Deal."

The steady beeping of a machine is what wakes you, your eyelids feeling too heavy to open. You try turning your head the other way, but the beeping continues and it makes you frown. You manage to flutter your eyelids open, blinking a few times until your vision focuses. The first person you see is Sweet Pea, the boy in question sitting in a chair with his head tilted back and mouth agape. You can hear faint snores coming from him and it makes you smile.

You turn your head the other way, smile blossoming at the two sleeping figures of Toni and Fangs.

"So Sleeping Beauty finally wakes." The gruff voice startles you and you have to pick your head up to see where it's coming from. Across the room from you, in a bed of his own, is a severely bruised Jughead who's eating a cup of green jello. "The bed remote is to your right if you wanna sit up."

You turn to your right, spotting the remote hanging from the bed railing and make a grab for it. Figuring out which button is which, you press the correct one to lift the upper half of your bed. You cringe as you do so, head throbbing suddenly. "How- how long was I out?"

"According to my dad, you've been out for three and half days. I woke up two days ago so I heard all about the craziness that went down the night I was brought in."

"Oh." You glance around, frowning. "Do, uh, do you know where my dad's at?"

"He's been in and out. The three stooges around you haven't given up their seats since you were put in here, so he said to call him when you woke up. I texted him while you were ogling Sweet Pea in his sleep."

"I wasn't-" You pause, sighing as Jughead chuckles. "Whatever." Glancing around again, you say, "What does a girl gotta do to get some food in here?"

As if on cue, the door bangs open and both you and Jughead flinch. Toni, Fangs, and Sweet Pea all startle awake. In walks your father, bags from Pop's in hand, and behind him FP walks in with two trays of drinks.

"You," Lucifer points out, "darling daughter, have a lot of explaining to do."

It's then your friends notice that you're up and awake, and you brace yourself as Toni and Fangs practically climb atop your bed.

"Will you be careful, you dumbasses!" Sweet Pea barks. "She just woke up."

"She just woke up," Fangs mocks him, earning a punch to the back.

You laugh, flinching when Toni's arm lays across your abdomen. Thankfully she notices and quickly readjusts her position, not moving from your side. Fangs, however, gets pulled from your other side and Sweet Pea carefully takes his spot. He maneuvers his arm so it's behind your and Toni's heads.

Glancing up at your dad, you accept the bag of food he holds out to you as he asks, "When exactly did your powers fully manifest? FP and Sweet Pea told me what they witnessed, and a sudden show of power like that is what kept you asleep so long. As well as the blood loss. You completely exhausted yourself."

You shift nervously under everyone's sudden gaze. "I, uh, it's all been slowly manifesting over the past couple of weeks. But then hearing about Jughead, it kind of sped up the process in one fell swoop and well.. FP and Pea saw how that ended."

Lucifer tuts. "You're lucky you didn't kill yourself. You know better than to use so much power while still untrained."

"I know," you mumble. You make quick work of digging into the bag that's resting in your lap, pulling out a burger and unwrapping it. You immediately take a bite, groaning as the taste explodes across your tongue. "Can you lecture me later? I feel like I can eat ten of these."

Your dad wrinkles his nose. "Your mortal side is showing. Swallow before you speak."

"That's what he said," Toni mumbles.

You choke on your food and Sweet Pea immediately starts hitting your back in a panic. Eventually your airway clears and you glare at Toni who's smiling innocently at you. "You're a bitch." She laughs, but then your attention is stolen by FP whose handing you a drink. You grin gratefully at him as you suck up some ice cold Cola through the straw. "I hope I didn't leave you a mess to deal with."

"You didn't." He smirks. "I put in an anonymous tip to sheriff Keller about some Ghoulies who'd looked like they overdosed. I also might have told him they were also the ones involved with Jughead's beating. They ain't getting out anytime soon."

"Good."

Everyone makes themselves comfortable around the shared room, FP sitting next to his son's bed while Lucifer sits next to yours, but Toni and Sweet Pea have you squished between them on the bed while Fangs sits in an empty chair.

You manage to eat three burgers, two cartons of fries, and siphon down three cups of Cola when you notice all eyes are on you. Immediately you can feel the flush burning up the sides of your neck and up to your face. Leaning back, you push the rest of the food away and curl in towards Sweet Pea as the room's occupants start to laugh.

"So are you gonna share those burgers or you gonna wolf down every single one?" Jughead muses.

"Don't mock me. You're lucky I even left anything." Fangs chuckles at your pout and gets up, grabbing up the bags from your lap. He takes a burger for himself before walking the food across the room, and you grin as Jughead immediately digs in. FP can only shake his head at his son as Jughead groans in delight. "So," you say as you glance at your dad, "what happens now?"

"Now you heal," Lucifer says. "However, when you're all better we need to take a trip to Hell." Sweet Pea tightens his hold around your shoulders and you quickly glance up at him, smiling softly to reassure him everything would be fine. "I'm just about done with business here on the mortal plane, so we need to transfer roles back down in Hell."

"Ugh. Do I have to stay for the party? Your creepy minions are gonna try to bed me again."

"Well if you'd show up with a consort on your arm you wouldn't have that problem."

You frown. "You know damn well if I show up with a mortal in Hell it'll be chaos."

"But what fun chaos it'll be," Lucifer smirks.

"Hold up," Toni says. "Consort?"

Your dad's smirk widens and you sigh. "For some reason, dad wants me to take a boyfriend. Or husband. He's not picky."

"What!?" She laughs.

"Yeah. He's got his money on Sweet Pea just because he's tall and intimidating." Sweet Pea suddenly chokes and everyone in the room laughs at him. You grin at him, poking him on his side. "Relax. There are no wedding bells in any of our immediate futures. And besides," you say as you let yourself relax into Sweet Pea's side once more, fatigue suddenly overcoming you, "the elite of Hell only approve of a wedding if it's officiated in Hell. And quite frankly, no one I choose will ever step foot down there if I have anything to say about it."

"Wait. Hold on," Jughead says. "Are you saying you can get us in and out of Hell, and you haven't done so?"

FP scoffs. "Don't even think about it, kid."

You grin at Jughead's affronted expression, letting your eyelids fall shut. "We are not taking field trips down to Hell. Now everyone shush. M'sleepy."

It took you a few days before your dad deemed you well enough to visit Hell, making sure you did not show any form of vulnerability in front of the others. So you rested at home during the day and spent your evenings entertaining your friends who wanted to know all about Hell and how long you'd be away. But the truth was, you didn't even know yourself.

So when you and your dad finally left for Hell, you hadn't anticipated just how long you'd be there. You did anticipate, however, several demons being happy over the transfer of power. And that several others would swoop in in hopes of courting you. All of which you happily declined.

Your dad's coronation lasted a full day and you lost track of time after the second day of partying. You caught up with what few companions you actually had in Hell, ate, drank, and danced. It felt like only a couple of days had passed before you decided you'd been there long enough and sought out your father, only for him to happily send you on your way with promises that you'd visit every month. You had waved him off before going back to your rooms to change into regular clothing, and then let a swirl of flames whisk you away.

Reappearing in your house, you glance around happily until you notice it's not quite as you left it. The lights and TV, which had been turned off prior to leaving, are now on and the more you linger in the same spot it's easier to hear the noises coming from the kitchen. Quietly heading in that direction, you stop short at the sight of FP and Jughead preparing what appears to be their dinner.

"Um, hi?"

Jughead and FP's attention immediately snap to you, and Jughead quickly rounds the kitchen island. "Y/N, you're back!"

"Of course I am." You laugh as he wraps his arms around you, returning his embrace as you grin at FP over Jug's shoulder. "I told you I'd be back as soon as possible."

Jughead pulls back from you, hands on your shoulders as he keeps you at arm's length. "I know, but we thought you meant like three days tops, not two weeks!"

"What?"

You look at FP and he nods. "Sorry, babygirl, but he's telling the truth."

Your mind briefly short circuits at the nickname and you glance at Jug, smile slowly blooming. "Your dad called me-"

"Don't."

You laugh as FP snorts, shaking his head at you. "Only joking. I haven't done that in two week apparently," you say. You reach up to pat one of Jughead's hands on your shoulders and he releases. Walking over to one of the stools lined along the kitchen island, you take a seat. "And besides, you know I have my eyes on a certain tall Serpent friend of yours."

"Speaking of which," FP then says as he leans across the counter across from you, "you better text him. He's been bugging us nonstop to see if we heard from you or not."

"I will." Jughead offers you a bottle of water which you accept. "I just- I need to decompress for a little bit. Socializing in Hell kind of took it out of me."

"Well you can always join us for dinner." Jughead looks so hopeful that you actually feel a little bit bad turning him down.

"Sorry, JJ. I've been eating nonstop for days. I kind of just want to sleep it off."

"Oh. Okay sure."

"But before I head upstairs, can I just ask what you guys are doing here?"

Jughead looks like a deer in headlights at the question, so FP takes over. "Lucifer wanted us to keep an eye on the place while you were gone. Said we could crash here if we needed to and our trailer went under renovations two days ago."

"Oh. Okay." You smile at them. "Well you guys are always welcome here no matter what and just because I'm back it doesn't mean you have to leave. I welcome the company," you say. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sleep my dad's coronation off."

"We'll keep your return under wraps, but if anyone stops by we won't lie to them."

"That's fine," you tell Jughead.

After drinking some more of your water, you decide to head upstairs. In the privacy of your room you decide to quickly change into some sleepwear before crawling into the comfort of your own bed.

Sleep finds you fairly quickly and you're not quite sure how long you've been asleep when you're suddenly awoken. The sky is completely pitch black outside your window and the house is eerily quiet. You figure it must be very early morning so it's no use getting up now, but just as your eyes close once more the sound of a chair creaking has your eyes flying open.

On your stomach, you immediately push yourself up until you're sitting on your knees and glancing around your room. "Hey. Hey, you're okay."

Your lamp clicks on and you cringe away from the sudden brightness, only to slowly open your eyes and be met with the concerned expression of possibly your favorite Serpent. "Pea?"

He grins. "The one and only."

"What are- what are you doing here?" You crawl towards the edge of the bed closest to him, sitting down so your feet touch the ground.

"Stopped by for some dinner earlier and Jughead told me you were back. FP took pity on me and let me stay until you woke up."

"So you- you watched me sleep?" Sweet Pea's smile slowly falls as yours grows. "That's kind of creepy, Pea."

"Well I didn't- I didn't know-"

You quickly lean forward, one hand gripping the armrest of the chair to hold you up and the other cradling the side of Sweet Pea's face as you angle it towards yours. You gently brush your lips against his just to test the waters before you pull back just an inch, your eyes fluttering open to gauge his reaction. Sweet Pea blinked owlishly at you before his eyes darted over every inch of your face, lastly settling on your lips as his hands came up to cradle your face and bring you back in.

Smiling against his lips, you allow him a moment of control, letting yourself get briefly carried away in one another. You nip at his bottom lip and when he groans you peck the corner of his mouth before falling back onto the edge of your bed. You lick your bottom lip before biting it sheepishly, eyes shining at a clearly distracted Sweet Pea.

"I'm not gonna lie. I've been wanting to do that for a really long time."

Gathering his wits once more, Sweet Pea scoffs. "You mean to tell me we could have been doing this since the beginning?"

"Well yeah. But I didn't wanna come off as easy."

"You.. easy? Yeah right," he chuckles. Slowly, he sobers up. "But, uh, your dad's not gonna be a problem. Right?"

You shake your head. "Nah. Believe it or not, Lucifer's a cool dad. He doesn't care what I do or who I do it with so long as it's consensual."

He seems to blanch just a little. "Of course. Always."

"Then we're good." You flash him a small smile as you scoot back into bed, tossing the blanket over your legs. "Now will you come to sleep rather than watching over me? I wasn't lying when I said it was weird." Sweet Pea readily stands to strip out of his jacket, laying it across the chair as he toes off his boots. When he starts to walk to the other side of your bed, you say, "Feel free to sleep sans jeans, but only if you're wearing underwear."

Sweet Pea smirks at you as he slowly unbuckles his belt, sliding it out of his jean's loops before tossing that on his jacket as well. You roll your eyes as he unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall, haphazardly kicking them aside before crawling into your bed.

"If that was an attempt to seduce me, you're really terrible at it." He laughs as he lays on his back, you grabbing his arm and picking it up so you can lay close to him. You're on your side, head on his shoulder and arm around his waist. "But you still get an A for effort."

"I wasn't even trying, sweetheart. If I was to seduce you, you'd know it."

"Mhm. I'm sure. Now close your eyes. I have a feeling everyone's gonna be here later on."

          - - - - - - - - - - 

"Do- do we wake them?"

"No, you idiot, let them sleep."

A sigh. "This is going to be a regular thing now, isn't it?"

You slowly smile, the voices of Fangs, Toni, and Jughead waking you up. "You're damn straight this is going to be a regular thing." Your eyes open and you grin. "I'm going to be climbing this like a tree every chance I get." The chest beneath your cheek rumbles with sleepy laughter. You yawn, stretching at Sweet Pea's side before slowly sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten," Jughead says. "Dad was going to wake you for breakfast, but he saw you and Sweet Pea and figured he'd let you sleep."

"FP is officially my second favorite Serpent," you say. With his eyes still closed, Sweet Pea smiles and you roll your eyes at his smugness. "I hope you guys have nothing planned. I just want to relax and go to school like a normal person for a few days. I'm all partied out."

"Whatever you want, girl." Toni tells you. "We're just glad you're finally back."

"You and me both."

Over the next few days, your group of friends grow used to the fact that you and Sweet Pea have officially become a thing. Neither of you are fond of the terms boyfriend/girlfriend since it sounds kind of juvenile, but you don't correct anyone when they use that particular label. As far as the two of you are concerned, you are his and he is yours, and that's enough for the two of you.

Another change that seems to have happened is at the Whyte Wyrm, your presence being a great deal more tolerated. You know no one other than a select few knew of your true heritage, so you figure one of your friends name dropped the pet name Princess and now the other Serpents boldly greet you as such, especially FP who takes great delight in calling you that once he realizes you find it annoying.

You're happy you don't have Queenly duties niggling at the back of your mind and that you can just be as normal as you can be with your friends. There are a few instances in which your powers come in handy, but you don't use them as often as you thought you would. Then as the days slowly progress and the weather turns chillier, you find that Sweet Pea is a constant presence in your home. His trailer had been updated, but while he's grateful for it he much prefers coming home to you and your house.

You and Sweet Pea are sleeping down in the basement, the lounging sofa being more comfortable for him to sleep in since he was so tall. You've already ordered a new bed, but for now the two of you happily camp down in the theatre while you wait for your bed to come in.

The doorbell ringing pulls you from your dreams and an arm tightens around your waist. Sleep starts to pull you back under seconds later until the doorbell rings again and you quietly groan.

"Don't answer it," Sweet Pea mumbles. "They'll go away."

You press back into his chest, yawning and willing yourself to fall back asleep. But whoever's at the front door is insistent and the doorbell rings for a third time. "I'm going to smite them," you grumble. "Smite them and then blissfully come back to sleep." Sweet Pea chuckles at your threat, but though you're getting annoyed for having had your sleep interrupted you don't actually do anything about it.

Seconds seem to pass and when the doorbell doesn't ring again you let your body start to relax once more. Sweet Pea curls even more against your back and you chuckle softly at the fact that one of the Serpent's most intimidating secretly loves to cuddle.

And then just as you're fully relaxing and being pulled back under, there are footsteps coming down the staircase. "I knew I'd find you guys down here."

You and Sweet Pea both groan, Jughead's amused laughter making you open your eyes and glare at the teen in question. Betty Cooper is standing just behind him, glancing around your home theatre in wonder, but you bite your tongue on questioning her presence since you know full well that she and Jughead were more stable than they've ever been.

"If you know what's best for you, JJ, you'd walk away."

"It's three in the afternoon, Y/N. You should have been awake hours ago."

"We had a late night."

"First off, ew." His nose wrinkles at you and Sweet Pea, and you, Sweet Pea, and Betty grin at Jughead's comment. "And secondly, dad sent me. We're having a meeting."

Sweet Pea seems to take those words seriously and you whine when he moves to get up. He chuckles, quickly kissing your temple and then turning to crawl out of the comfort of the sofa. You sigh. "And why, pray tell, is my presence needed?"

Jughead smirks. "You'll see."

His vague answer is enough to get you moving, you grumbling all the while. On your way upstairs, you hit Jughead with your shoulder and then smile innocently at Betty while telling her to help herself to whatever's in the kitchen while you and Sweet Pea get ready.

You and Sweet Pea take the quickest showers you've ever taken, separately, and meet Jughead and Betty in the kitchen. Sweet Pea is pulling on his jacket and you're tying your hair up into a ponytail, grinning at Jughead who has a plate of sandwiches in front of him. "So what's the deal, Jones?"

He shrugs. "M'just under orders to bring you to the quarry."

You glance at Betty and she chuckles. "I just came along for the ride. Jughead's actually dropping me off before you go to the meeting."

"I feel like I should be scared nervous, but I'm actually excited nervous." You muse. "I mean, daddy Jones-"

"God you're so gross," Jughead groans. You wink at Betty as Jughead turns to Sweet Pea. "How are you okay with your girl fawning over my dad?"

"Because everyone, including FP, knows it gets under your skin and it's fun to watch your squirm."

You look at Betty and grin. "Have I told you about the time FP called me babygirl?"

"And we're leaving!" Jughead is quick to latch onto his laughing girlfriend's wrist, tugging her out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

You turn towards Sweet Pea, wrapping your arms around his waist as you lean up on your tiptoes to play a chaste kiss to his lips. "I absolutely adore you. Now come on. Let's go see what the boss wants."

Sweet Pea pecks your lips twice more before you fall back flat on your feet, then making your way towards the hall closet. Inside, you pull free a jean jacket and quickly pull it on while Sweets grabs both your helmets. The two of you head outside to see Betty already hanging onto the back of Jughead. You and Sweet Pea readily climb onto his bike, you tucking yourself as close as you can to his back while he follows Jughead towards Betty's house.

Then once Betty's hopped off and heading towards her front door, Jughead signals for Sweet Pea to follow and you're on your way once more. The part of the quarry Jughead leads you to is not familiar to you and you're surprised to see the entire Serpent clan hanging around. And as you climb off the bike, waiting for Sweet Pea who takes your hand and then starts leading you towards your friends, you glance around to take in your surroundings.

A wooden walkway leads down to a boathouse just on the water, trucks and motorcycles parked all around. There are a couple of tapped kegs and barrels of fire scattered about. Between two wooden poles, a Serpent banner hangs just behind some stacked wooden pallets that FP hops up onto.

FP whistles, gaining everyone's attention. "Listen up now!" Some music that had been playing is lowered and everyone turns towards their leader. "I know some of you have recently had your opinions about the way I was running things with the Serpents." Some people boo and FP chuckles, instantly calming them. "Our image has never been as clean as it should have been and certain events led a few of us to make decisions that could have had repercussions against all of us." Some very brave individuals glance at Jughead and you glare at them until they look away. "But then an old friend of mine swooped in and changed everything." At this, some nervously glance at you.

"Some sixty years ago, the very first Serpent meeting took place on these same river banks. So I find it fitting that we meet here to introduce a new snake to the den." Everyone cheers this time, including you, though your amusement falls when FP meets your gaze head on. You freeze. Surely he's not talking about- "You all know about Penny, the Ghoulies, and Tall Boy attacking three of our own- my boy included. What you don't know is that girl," he points directly at you, "that girl right there is who took a knife to the gut avenging us. So Y/N Morningstar, come on up here."

Sweet Pea, Jughead, Toni, and Fangs start the whooping and hollering until the rest of the Serpents all join in. You're gripping tight to Sweet Pea's hand as he starts to drag you towards FP's platform, you nervously grinning at the Serpents who part down the middle to give you a path.

At the makeshift stage, Sweet Pea then nudges you up there and you chuckle nervously as you stand next to FP. He smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close while addressing the crowd again. "The Morningstars, while some of you were against it at first, helped clean up the Serpent image and helped improve the Southside when even our own mayor had given up on us. They've been a tremendous help to us and it all started with an act of kindness from one of the Serpents which then led to my release. So with that said, Jughead will you come on up and do the honors?"

You look out at Jughead, brow furrowing as Toni smirks at you while handing a duffel bag over to the boy in question. He unzips it, pulling free what looks to be a cherry red leather jacket. He holds it, scrunched up in one hand, as he makes his way to the platform. "What's going on?" You mutter.

FP releases you just as Jughead takes his place by your side. He's smiling as he inhales deeply, letting out it loudly before addressing the rest of the Serpents. "When Lucifer left, he asked my dad and I to look after his precious little princess." You scoff, punching Jughead's arm much to everyone's amusement. "And I know some of you are going to say that that's why we've decided to welcome Y/N into the Serpents, but the reason why we're welcoming Y/N into the fold is because she earned her place. She took a knife for us and got rid of our enemies once and for all. I don't know about you, but to my dad and I that makes her worthy of being a Serpent."

Sweet Pea is the first to whoop, followed by the rest of your friends and the crowd of Serpents lingering about.

"So what do you say, Morningstar? Will you don the Serpent jacket and put the fear of the devil into any person who dares smear the name of your brethren?" He asks while grabbing the cherry red jacket with both hands and shaking it open.

You smirk at him, already stripping out of your jean jacket. "As if you even had to ask."

You toss your jacket to Sweet Pea and stand in front of Jughead, placing your arms into the sleeves one at a time. It fits perfectly, Toni's doing no doubt, and you laugh openly at the roar of applause. Turning around, you hug Jughead and then walk over towards FP to offer him the same embrace.

"Who picked the color?" You ask.

"Who do you think?" He muses.

"Dad."

FP releases you with a grin, nudging you towards your friends. "Go on. We'll be celebrating tonight at the Whyte Wyrm."

You offer him one of your genuine smiles instead of the teasing one you usually reserve for him. "Thanks, FP. For everything."

"No problem, kiddo. Now seriously, go. Go have a burger and a shake at Pop's with your friends."

As you turn to hop off the platform, Toni is the first to wrap you up in a hug. "Welcome to the club! You're seriously lucky you didn't have to do the dance."

"I'd have seriously gouged someone's eye out if anyone suggested I do the dance to earn my place."

She laughs and then Fangs takes her place, you hugging him back. Then finally Sweet Pea is standing in front of you and he laughs as you jump into his arms.

"Happy, princess?"

"Ecstatic," you muse as you wrap your legs around his waist. His hands find your ass, supporting your weight as you quickly lean in to kiss him. More cheers erupt all around you, you and Sweet Pea smile against each other's mouths, and Jughead gags behind you. Pulling back, you lay your forehead against his. "Wanna grab some food or go properly celebrate at home before tonight's party at the Wyrm?"

"How about we hit up Pop's for burgers to go, burn off some calories before consuming them right back in the comfort of our own home, and then go to the Wyrm?"

"I like the way you think, Pea. Let's go."

You kiss him once more, Toni cheering you on as Sweet Pea carries you off.

"Just please don't contaminate the basement!" Jughead yells out. "I actually like it down there!"

You wave him off over your shoulder, grinning at Pea. "Who's going to tell him he's a few weeks too late? Me or you?"

"I wanna tell him when he least expects it. Probably when he's laying on the sofa and being a little shit."

"Deal."

[himaboroshi736]

IronDad fic recs

Here. I’m a french reader, but I’ve read A LOT (like...a lot) of IronDad, so, eventually, here my fic rec. (I tried to class it by categories, but well...) (it’s gonna be very long, guys)

 Peter Parker has anxiety 

Don’t let me get me, by hopeless_hope 

He picks up his phone and sends a quick text. "hey, happy! i’m not feeling too hot today, so i think i’m gonna have to cancel. tell mr. stark i’m sorry!"

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response. It never comes, and Peter sighs sadly. There was a part of him, a small part, that really hoped he was wrong. His insides burn, and he curls up tighter into a ball and turns off his phone.

(No one’s going to try to contact him anyway.)

or

Anxiety has a way of convincing Peter that everyone hates him. Tony has a way of proving him wrong.

Midnight Oil, by @jolinarjackson

After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

Tony Stark has anxiety 

do you even remember what the world looks like ?, by @iron--spider

Tony’s heart has been working on overdrive since this whole thing started. Friday has a countdown clock plastered on the heads up display, but it feels like hieroglyphics to him at this point, like some ancient language he could never master.

Because when Peter Parker is missing, things start losing their meaning real quick.

“Should be around here,” Rhodey says on the com. May is still on the other line, listening in, because once a certain amount of time goes by without word from Peter, things move into Extremely Worried Aunt territory. They’re already in Tony Is Panicking territory, and when both of those territories overlap it’s never a good time for anybody.

Time? What the hell is time? His mind is blanking numbers out entirely. Minutes are seconds are hours are years.

not like megatron, by @iron--spider

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

Hypothermia trope (i really like it so if you have any suggestions...)

i knock the ice from my bones, by hopeless_hope

Peter tries to move his legs through the water, dread filling him when they don’t move, and he just hangs there, doing anything and everything he can not to focus on the feeling of ice clinging to his bones. He feels sluggish, the world blurring around him, and he rests his head on the ice, not even registering the cold anymore.

He’s just so damn tired.

“PETER!” he hears someone yell, but it’s all muffled, and he lazily drags his eyes up to see a figure descending towards him.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thinks, This is not how my vacation was supposed to go.

or

While on what's supposed to be a relaxing vacation with the Starks, things for Peter quickly go south, and he finds himself on thin ice. Literally.

Ice Ice Baby, by @wolfypuppypiles

If Tony, Bucky or pretty much anybody that knew Peter had seen him that morning they would have smacked him upside the head. Helping people was great, everyone should give it a go, but when helping people puts you in danger it’s not so smart anymore.

AKA Peter can't get from Avenger tower to the subway without giving his winter clothes to homeless people and ends up with a severe case of hypothermia

Candle in the Window, by @madasthesea

Finals are over and Peter just wants to go home. The weather has other ideas.

Burn This Out, by @ephemeralstark

It's summer and Peter is free to be Spider-Man all day which is great, but it's summer and Peter is out as Spider-Man on the hottest day of the year which is not great.

Or, Peter gets heat stroke because he can't thermoregulate and things could not go worse for him.

(yeah, it’s not an hypothermia, but it’s linked to the fact that Peter can’t actually thermoregulate)

Post-Endgame (really like this trope too lmao)

the first birthday after, by iron_spider 

(Endgame spoilers. But The Thing doesn't happen.)

The rain falls harder and Tony turns, his neck creaking and cracking, and he sees Peter asleep over by the window. He’s holding a small, flat box, and he’s slowly slipping to the right side of the easy chair he’s in.

Tony thinks about letting him sleep, but he finds himself speaking anyway. “Pete,” he says, his voice rough and raspy.

Peter immediately startles awake. “Happy Birthday,” he says, almost like he’d fallen asleep practicing it, planning to say it as soon as he woke up. He blinks at Tony, shivering a little bit, and then he smiles. “Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday.”

Tony snorts, smiling back. “Thanks, bud,” he says.

Second Best, by Rowan_M

Tony had adjusted to parenthood quickly when Morgan came along, and was always conscious of making sure Peter isn't left out ... Almost always. When Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan, Tony obsess over his daughter and takes his anger out on Peter, without even checking to see if he was okay. Steve finds Peter later that night in serious pain and in need of immediate medical attention.

Or, Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan and Tony basically ignores him.

when you’re feeling empty keep me in your memory, by JkWriter

after everything with thanos he forgets it's his birthday. he just assumed everyone else did too.

All For You, by @ironxprince

Three weeks after the snap that saved the world, Peter learns he was the reason behind it. He learns that Tony risked death, and now has to live with the ramifications, both physical and mental, all because of him.

This doesn't sit right with him.

you save everybody, but who saves you ?, by @iron--spider

Tony doesn’t sleep, because he can’t, because too many things are plaguing him, most of all where Peter is and what he’s doing. Tony has a good view of the hallway through the windows to his room, and he stares and stares until his eyes cross, until he hallucinates, until he knows he’s going insane.

He sees Peter sneaking into the med bay at about four in the morning.

The kid’s mask is off and he’s got two short, harsh slashes across his cheek, and he’s bleeding from a slice across his neck. His suit is ripped in a few places and he’s holding onto his middle, and Tony can see his hands are shaking.

It’s like something splinters in Tony’s already broken brain, like his world narrows and there are hazy edges, both weakness and strength entwining in his veins when he sees Peter struggle up onto one of the beds in the main atrium, starting to tend his wounds without calling anybody to help.

BAMF Peter Parker 

Pizza, a Movie, and... an Attempted Kidnapping ?, by Pogokitten

“Tony. We’ll be fine,” Peter tells the man for what must be the tenth time in the last half hour.

Peter’s sitting on the couch of his and May’s apartment and building Legos with Morgan as they both watch their father’s methodical, yet anxious, pacing. He’s dressed to impress, as is Pepper who is watching the scene slightly exasperated.

“Are you sure? We can ditch the gala, kid. Just say the word,” Tony offers, halting in front of his kids.

Or: Tony and Pepper leave Peter in charge of Morgan while they go to their first gala since the third snap. Peter is expecting a calm night in with his adopted sister, but some thugs throw a wrench in his plans.

he’s good like that, by @iron--spider

“Get the hell outta here, boy,” the man says. “Or you’re gonna watch your boss die in front of you.” Then he grabs Tony by the shoulders hard, and shoves him down to his knees. The gun is louder now, like it’s filled with words that are eager to be shouted, and Tony winces when he feels the barrel press against the back of his neck. His knees weren’t ready to hit the ground that hard, and he tries to keep the pain from reaching his face.

He must fail, because Peter looks pissed.

“You’re not gonna shoot him, mister,” Peter says, somehow still trying to maintain a respectful tone, despite the clear anger written all over him.

stark robotics and technology conference, by @iron--spider

Peter leans against the wall while Tony chooses their floor, and the doors close. “Do you, uh, want me to do some interning stuff? Like go and get you coffee? Make sure the, uh—programs are all ready? Make sure the paintings are straight in the ballroom? Make sure the chairs are—”

Tony snorts. “Kid, I just thought you’d enjoy this. May told me about when it came through Queens but you two couldn’t make it because she was working and didn’t want you to go alone, and I thought, after all the shit you’ve been through lately, that you deserved something fun. No interning for you. That’s just an excuse.”

Peter remembers that. It was six months after Ben died, and he wasn’t gonna bother May too much about the conference. He didn’t know how much tickets cost anyways, or if kids his age could even go.

He really hung onto the idea of Iron Man after Ben died. Peter held him closer than ever.

Peter and Tony fighting 

dinner and a jailbreak, by killerqueenwrites

“I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–“

“You’re not my dad!”

Peter fitting in after the Blip isn't as easy as Tony hoped it would be. He wants his kid back, but they can't seem to stop fighting.

and then Peter goes missing.

my old man, by parkrstark 

"I just want to help you. I want to help you understand what's wrong here and how to stop it. I used to be the same way until my father showed me how to be a man." He glanced back at Peter to sneer. "He's old enough to know better by now, but it's not your fault you didn't know how to teach him." "Teach him what?" Tony asked even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Discipline, of course," Junior said with a wink.

--

Tony takes Peter on a weekend trip to try and change his mind about college and things go wrong. Then, they go even more wrong.

Between how it is and how it should be, by @frostysunflowers

''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

Soulmates trope 

presumed dead, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony gets his first soulmark when he’s fifteen, his second when he's thirty. He's forty-six when his third appears, and forty-eight when it fades to grey.

did you see the flares in the sky ?, by justt-ppeachy

‘hi’  

One simple word was displayed proudly on the inside of his right wrist. Tony wasn’t sure when this word showed up or how long it had been there.

A line formed underneath the word and Tony could almost feel the pressure on his arm from the marker his soulmate was using to push one phrase from their skin into his.

‘i loev yu’

The letters were written slowly and messily as they showed up upon his wrist while he watched in disbelief. Not sure if he was hallucinating or just going insane, Tony rubbed at the writing, wondering if they would disappear once he looked again.

The words were barely recognizable, but they were still the best thing Tony had ever seen.

IronDad Fluff (yeah)

peter wearing tony’s hoodie, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony’s used to his clothes going missing. His MIT hoodie doesn’t often leave his closet, though, which is why he notices its absence straight away. There’s a lifetime of safety and comfort in this old hoodie, for both of them, and that’s all Tony could ever wish to give Peter.

Career Day, by @superhusbands4ever

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Peter’s enhanced senses picked up the familiar voice from outside the door. “I had a meeting this morning and then I got lost looking for the class… anyway, I’m here for Peter? Peter Parker?”

He frowned at hearing his name, still unsure what exactly was going on. He watched as his teacher continued to stand and stare out the door for a minute before seemingly remembering herself and taking a step back.

“Of course! If you could just go sit next to him until your turn, he’s in the back on the right side.”

The man stepped through the door and Peter gaped with the rest of the class as Tony Stark, in his signature suit and goatee, sporting a pair of red sunglasses and carrying a suitcase walked through the door.

Kryptonite, by forensicleaf 

The kid is acting weird.

Tony tries to figure it out.

father’s day, by @iron--spider 

It’s Father’s Day, and Tony never really had a father. Not in the real sense of the word, not in the way that counts.

Peter Parker doesn’t have a father, either. Not anymore, anyway, not since he was little, and the amount of years that have passed since then outweigh the amount of time he got with Richard Parker.

Tony wouldn’t call himself Peter’s dad. He wouldn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t think of himself that way, no way, no way.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He pulls down on his cheeks, makes his eyes water. He runs his hands over the roughness of his jaw and sorta hates everything about himself right now, because he’s acting like a goddamn idiot. It’s Father’s Day and he’s not a father. He doesn’t know why the hell he’s pining for something that isn’t his, shouldn’t be his, can never be his. He isn’t a father, he isn’t Peter’s father, so there’s no reason on God’s green earth for Peter and him to do something for Father’s Day.

ain’t no valley low enough, by @iron--spider (yes, again, ‘cuz she’s the best)

Peter snorts. “You know I didn’t apply anywhere in Florida.”

“Please, kid, you know all you have to do is write a beautiful essay with my recommendation attached to it and you’re in. You’ve got the scores.”

Peter has a list. Of all the places he applied to, all the places he got into. A lot of it was encouraged by the adult role models in his life, some of it by Ned daydreaming about places like California and Colorado. Mostly, Peter just applied everywhere he could think of, because he’s known for a long time that Tony was gonna help May pay for it, and he didn’t wanna limit his options. Thinking about college has been strange for him, strange to the extent that he had a full blown panic attack about it in the middle of Avengers taco night last month. He can’t really understand it, doesn’t get why it feels like the end of the world—because he’s experienced the end of the world, and it’s not which campus has a bowling alley and which school has circus classes. But he nearly blacked out all the same, sobbed in Tony’s arms on the balcony until Tony proposed this. The road trip.

and when it’s hard, i’ll place your head into my hands, by hopeless_hope

“Tony,” Pepper sing-songs to get his attention. “Your mother hen is showing.”

“What?” he snaps indignantly. “I am not a mother hen. This is just... concern. Of the average kind. Perfectly normal.”

“Of course,” Pepper humors him, and he shoots her a dirty look as he types out a quick text to Peter.

or

It's been five days since Tony's heard from Peter, who's away at college, and Tony is not coping well. (Neither is Peter.)

Peter likes cuddles (and Tony too, but he always denies it... until he can’t)

my arms will hold you (keep you safe and warm), by parkrstark 

“So, you’re telling me your body...is going through Oxytocin withdrawals?” Tony asked slowly.

“Cuddle withdrawals,” Peter corrected him. “Mr. Stark cuddles.”

TW : Rape/non-cons

make me strong, by parkrstark 

It all started when Tony introduced Peter to Skip Westcott. He just didn't know until it was too late.

(There is a lot more, but I can’t find it rn ;-;)

5+1 

5 times peter clung to tony, by parkrstark 

... and the one time tony clung to him.

You are my Dad, you’re my dad, boogiewoogiewoogie, by Hittinmiss

“Peter? What’s going on kid?” Tony asked, him popping up on the phone’s screen.

“Hey da-” Peter started automatically before immediately noticing his mistake, the look on Ned’s face proved that yes, he almost called Tony Stark dad. He needed to try recover quickly because the look on Tony’s face seemed confused, especially with his slight pause. “-aaaaaamn Mr. Stark I really like your shirt. Where’d you get it?”

Smooth.

---

5 times Peter called Tony Dad and the 1 time Tony called himself Dad

5 Times Tony Took Care of Peter..., by As_Clear_As_Crystal 

“Think if I coded a sign into your suit that says ‘Baby on Board,’ maybe criminals wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about murdering you?” Tony asks airily, poking at the bottom of Peter’s foot.

Peter halfheartedly kicks at Tony with his toe. (“That’s offensive, Mr. Stark.” )

- - -

aka: Five times Tony took care of Peter, and one time Peter took care of Tony.

5 times Peter is stuck with Tony, by @iron--spider

(...and one time he’s stuck alone.)

“I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.”

“I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.

“Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—”

“It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out."

“Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.”

5 times tony forgot peter was just a kid, by @parkrstark

...and the 1 time he didn't.

Or the one where it was hard for Tony to remember that the kid fighting next to him was still just a kid.

can i get a good night’s sleep ? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep ?, by peterstank 

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is completely fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

or: five times peter doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

Five Times Peter and Tony Had Each Other’s Back, by Sahiya

... and One Time They Needed Help.

Peter is Tony’s Biological Child

I Had the Dream Again, by Skeeter_110

Peter calls Tony in the middle of the night crying.

Congratulations, it’s a Boy, by capiocapi 

"Sir, I have the results.”

“Okay, Jarvis. Hit me.”

“It’s a match. 99.9% chance that he is your biological son, which is the percentage needed to be recognized by law as a biological parent.”

Tony’s stomach did a funny swooping dance. “Great. Congratulations to me then, eh? It’s a boy.”

You Are My Sunshine, by @iamconstantine

Tony Stark had always been a man of science and he always would be. It was his personal and fundamental belief that everything had an explanation. His eventual encounters with Norse gods, alien life, and sorcerers did kind of quake this a little bit, but still.

One thing that had always confounded him as the one thing that had no scientific explanation was fate. Murphy’s law, Finagle’s law, the butterfly effect, the domino effect, the snowball effect, and the wisest of all: “Shit happens.”

So how peculiar was it that one of the greatest things to ever happen to him began with a tray of champagne?

Serie i love you more than anything, by @iron--spider 

The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31– from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos

May’s abusive boyfriend trope 

A Peter Parker Problem, by @spagbol99

Peter Parker was back from the dead. At least that is what everybody told him. He'd been snapped out of existence until some sort of time travel and an active death wish by his mentor had saved him and the universe. Just your average sort of life for a 16 year old from Queens.

Peter comes back to find May has a husband and a kid. A new family he has to fit into. But he has done it before, he can do it again.

The only thing that feels solid is Tony: the Blip and fatherhood have mellowed him and Peter loves the bond they have now. He knows Tony would be there for him through anything. But Tony needs to focus on his own recovery - not small time Peter Parker problems. When things at home take a turn for the worse, Peter decides that he'll handle it himself. He is Spider-man. He's been to space and fought aliens. He can get through anything. After all, if May is happy, he is happy, right? Right?

(again, I’ve read a lot more but can’t find it...)

Peter Parker Whump (everyone’s favorite trope)

Danger Pizza, by alice_in_ink

The window was pushed open, and Iron Man’s head popped into his bedroom. “Here’s where I’m confused—why lock the front door but leave the fire-escape-accessible windows unlocked?” He clambered through said window. “Seems like a safety hazard.”

Peter eyed the metal suit as it straightened to a standing position. “Did you break into my window to kill me?”

The face plate lifted, and Tony’s eyes quickly looked over the teen. “Christ, kid. It looks like you’re halfway there.”

...

A wild night on patrol leaves Peter with a broken back, and boy, does he want to be able to move without dying. (So he calls Anthony Stark, obviously.)

If You Can’t Catch A Breath (You Can Take The Oxygen Straight Out Of My Own Chest), by @losingmymindtonight

"And I would hurry. Little Peter is about to be under quite a lot of pressure, and it might get a little hard to breathe.”

I’ve Got You, by @thedumbestavenger

Peter runs into a Copycat Vulture out on patrol, from there, everything escalates.

Meetings and Migraines, by AllThingsGeeky

Peter has another migraine at an unfortunate time and despite his best efforts he can’t ignore it forever.

The Most Important Thing In The World, by S0lstice

Peter’s door creaked and began to bend under the force of the crowbar and for the first time since regaining consciousness, fear began to press into him. Something very bad was happening and it was happening fast - too fast for his sluggish mind to keep up.

He went with his instincts instead, the first one always being, Help Mr. Stark.

Friendly Fire, by @jolinarjackson

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

alarm bells and panic levels, by @iron--spider

Tony lands heavy on the dock, the wood splintering hard under the metal suit. He’s having trouble breathing, his nose is bleeding, he most definitely has more than the recommended amount of broken ribs. But none of that fucking matters. The sky is clear, the assholes are down, but there’s one thing missing.

He looks over his shoulder when Rhodey lands too. His suit is dented in a few places but other than that he looks alright. His face mask flips up and Tony lets his mask retract.

“Where’s Peter?” Tony asks, his voice rough with the amount of yelling he’s been doing. Fuck these stupid assholes. They were supposed to go mini-golfing today. The kid had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Rhodey looks around, breathing hard through his mouth. “I thought you knew.”

there’s something wrong, by @iron--spider

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

“He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

“Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

“Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces), by aloneintherain

Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Collections/Series (’cause I could make an inventory of all @iron--spider stories, you know, but you have to read all of her work, if you haven’t yet) (God she doesn’t even know who I am)

iron dad bingo, by @iron--spider

stay at home, by @iron--spider

whumptober, by @iron--spider

Whumptober 2019, by @marvelous-writer

Day in the life of the Iron Family, by @marvelous-writer 

The Tumblr Archives, by @losingmymindtonight

Everything comes back to you, by @losingmymindtonight

Nice work, kid, by @madasthesea

Irondad Bingo 2019, by sahiya 

The Adventures of Spidy-son and Iron-dad, by eva7673

Tony adopts Peter (why everyone kills May, btw ?)

Accepting the Tides, by @emma--anacortes

Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Series Out of Darkness, by @starryknight09

“Is this Peter Parker?”

“Yes…”

“This is Dr. Nguyen. I’m sorry but your aunt’s been in an accident and we’re going to need you to come to Queens Memorial as soon as you can.”

Peter's life shatters with a phone call. The last person he expects helps him pick up the pieces.

[troubatrain]

sober - m. barzal (pt. six)

a/n: so after the hell week we all survived in the good ol’ USA my brain finally decided to let me actually write. tbh i wrote this about four times before i forced myself to just finish it and stop tweaking it.

Five

Mat’s kitchen looked like a tornado had run through it. The usually pristine, absolutely untouched kitchen of the young bachelor was getting more use in the twenty minutes Mat had been awake than it ever had. Truthfully, Mat wasn’t a morning person. Mat slept like a rock, and he thought there was nothing besides the fear of his coach that could get him up earlier than noon, but he was wrong. You had him up before eight, hoping if he could beat you to waking up you wouldn’t have a chance to sneak out on him. He did, opening his eyes to catch you snoring softly beside him. He laid there for a moment, his eyes on you because he almost in disbelief you actually stayed. It was a moment of peace, the complete opposite of the mess you’d both gotten yourselves into. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t debating how he was going to get someone to leave, he was figuring out how he was going to get you to stay.

Mat was an absolute whore, and he didn’t care one bit. Why should he? He was young, he was at the top of his game, and his ego got a little bigger everyday. He was just as guilty as you were when it came to his lack of commitment. Mat had never been able to be a good boyfriend, no matter how hard he tried - so he just stopped trying. His schedule wasn’t made for dating, and he never wanted to put the work in. You were different. Something clicked in Mat when he realized how enraged his body felt hearing DeAngelo talk about you the way he did. He was going to let it go, and in hindsight maybe he should have, but he didn’t want to. That protective feeling took over his body because it was too strong for him to shove back down before it got out.

Mat would have told you he loved you after that game, because he does, but he knew he was playing a dangerous game. The reality of what would happen if this was real scared him, but not nearly as much as he knew it had to scare you. You had something to lose, a life that Mat just wouldn’t be apart of. Mat wasn’t in a position to ask you to give that up, especially for someone who you weren’t even dating. Mat knew if he moved too quickly you’d get spooked and run away without giving Mat a second thought. He’d disappear from your memory like everyone before him.

Mat’s thoughts were broken by the sound of your feet padding into his kitchen, your arms wrapping around his waist while you pressed a kiss to his back, “Hi pretty girl.”

This was uncharted territory, the morning after. You’d always been an expert, leaving yourself enough time to sneak out and leave before anyone would notice you were gone. That kept your heart safe, free from the feelings that were present in this very moment. You couldn’t have left last night, slipping out of Mat’s bed and into a cab in the middle of the night, but something stopped you, “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“I thought I’d try to make you breakfast,” Mat admits, a smile on his face while he turned off the stove, eggs forgotten to look at you, “I’ll get better at it, I promise, breakfast can be my thing.”

“Your thing?” You muse, letting Mat gently push you onto the island, standing between your legs.

“Yeah, when we fall in love or whatever, I’ll make breakfast,” Mat chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“You’ve lost your damn mind Barz,” You sigh, leaning your head on Mat’s shoulder while you savored the last few moments of peace you were feeling. You were going to have leave his place, off to a four game road trip where Mat was free to fuck whoever he wanted.

Mat’s finger was gently gliding over your face, “If I’m crazy it’s because you made me crazy.”

“You were insane before I met you,” You defend not daring to open your eyes and meet Mat’s gaze, “And now you’re just annoying.”

“I don’t remember being annoying when you were begging me to fuck you last night,” Mat counters back, hands moving to your bare thighs, the warmth from his hands was a stark contrast from the cool counter, “If I’m correct it sounded something like Mat please.”

“Don’t push your luck Mat,” You threaten, his impersonation of you from the night before stopping almost immediately.

“Would I push it if I asked you to stay until my flight later?” Mat asks, eyes full of hope while he tries to hang onto the moment just a little bit longer.

“If you never talk about it again,” You nod, deciding that the damage was already done. You were so far gone a few more hours couldn’t hurt you anymore.

“We can talk about how fucking good you look in orange and blue though,” Mat teases, a grin on his face. You furrow your eyebrows, looking down and realizing just what shirt he had given you the night before. A bright white number thirteen in the corner, with an Islanders logo present on the front.

“Mat if you don’t take this off of me right this second.”

“You never have to ask me twice to take off your shirt babe.”

***

You leaned your head against the window of the private jet that definitely cost more for one flight than your entire salary, taking a deep breath and a break from the laundry list of emails you were due to answer. You were flying to St. Louis for the All Star Game, your plans of a week long vacation somewhere warm with some of the team and their significant others thrown out the door the second Chris stepped in for Panarin last minute. Not even two minutes later, Charlotte strutted over to your desk to tell you that without a need for someone to translate for Artemi, you were the new kid and that meant you had to suffer through the weekend while everyone else took their vacations. 

“At least pretend to be excited,” Chris mutters next to you, taking a break from his own reading and elbowing you in the side.

“It’s hard to be excited when everyone’s on a beach and we’re flying to Missouri in January,” You snark back, pulling your glasses off your face and rubbing your eyes.

“You either need to start sleeping or stop hanging out with that secret boyfriend of yours,” Chris jokes, but it struck a nerve with you.

Mat wasn’t your boyfriend. Mat. Wasn’t. Your. Boyfriend. He didn’t get to have all of you, because he didn’t deserve it - no man does. Nothing about the very small amount of vulnerability that he got to see after that game meant anything. You left that morning and he went on a four game road trip and the world spun on. You could stop whenever you wanted to, move on with some other dumb boy who didn’t care more about you in clothes than without. But did you want to? That was a debate you’d been having with yourself for days.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You grumble, gritting through your teeth. Technically, it wasn’t a total lie.

“So you are seeing someone!” Chris points out, as if your deliberate words were going to make it past him. Chris held most of the intelligence on the entire Rangers roster, and there was nothing that he didn’t pick up, “So, What's the deal? He doesn’t want anyone to know about you or you don’t want anyone to know about him.”

“It’s mutual,” You hum, sipping the coffee that had gone cold.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Chris questions, a cautious tone to his voice, “Not that I think there’s anything wrong with it or anything-”

“No I haven’t found a sugar daddy,” You roll your eyes, waiving Chris and sparing him the lecture that there’s nothing wrong with the idea at all, “We’re just in a limbo.”

“For what it’s worth,” Chris says, taking a deep breath before he finished his thought, “You seem happy, you haven’t snapped on Tony in almost a week.”

“Thanks Chris,” You laugh softly, popping a headphone back into your ear so you could finish up some work.

***

Mat was in absolute disbelief the moment he saw you step into the hotel lobby. You weren’t supposed to be in St. Louis, you were supposed to be on some island in a bikini making him wish he wasn’t good enough to be selected for the All Star game at all. Mat scratched his head for an answer as to why you didn’t mention the change of plans, but then the thing that he spent his entire roadie before he left for St. Louis entered his brain at full speed.

You’re not her boyfriend.

Mat owed you nothing, and you didn’t have to tell him anything you didn’t want to. Mat honestly knew about four things about you and all of them related to your job. He was dying to know everything, even the stuff that didn’t matter that much. Hell, Mat would’ve killed to see the inside of your apartment at this point. He just needed one thing, one thing that he could hold onto that you showed him that no one else got to see. He was sure he’d find it, especially after he finally got you to stay at his place, but now he was starting to think maybe he’d never crack you.

You were going to just avoid Mat like the plague. The hotel was swamped with players, their families, and any staff that had tagged along for the weekend. The city was still buzzing from last season’s Stanley Cup win and there was not a chance Mat wasn’t going to be busy all weekend, because Mat Barzal was an amazing hockey player. You hated to be reminded of it, because if you could have Mat feed you stupid compliments and never remind you of his job you’d be happy forever.

hotel sex is on the table

and you look fucking hot today

You roll your eyes, checking your phone while you were standing in line to check in. You look around the room, trying not to draw any attention to Mat who was giving you a shit eating grin from across the lobby. He looked good, a white button up tucked into suit pants that were doing his ass justice. You look at Chris, who was too engrossed in his own phone to even look back at you.

pretend like i don’t exist right now and we’ll talk

wanna play a game?

that didn’t go well for you last time Barzy

if i beat your buddy kreids tomorrow night you give me one night

you won’t

is that a yes?

fine

You turn around, giving Mat one last death stare to remind him you weren’t kidding on your plea to pretend you didn’t exist. Your job was important to you because you weren’t Mat. You weren’t going to get paid millions of dollars to play and then retire with a pretty penny in your pocket. You worked, and the stress of losing your job would definitely break you. Charlotte instilled fear in you like no other boss you ever had could, and if you got caught messing around with someone who played for another team while you were working she’d probably just fire you on the spot. Not to mention the heartbroken faces of your chosen family. Mat somehow existed in both a different and the same world as you. He understood your work life because it was so close to his, but he had his own work family and you had yours. No matter what, there would always be some sort of weird divide caused by that stupid rivalry. For now, it was just going to have to be something you’d worry about later.

***

You turned in the mirror of your hotel room, the lacy black lingerie set fit your body like a glove, and you were impressed with Mat’s taste given all he ever wore was sweatpants. You look in the corner of the room, the last piece of his little gift sitting in the box. Mat dropped it off earlier, a note on top telling you that when he inevitably smokes Chris in the faster skater competition he had something in mind. You weren’t surprised by his confidence, but you were surprised by the gift itself. Folded neatly in the box wasn’t just the lingerie, a bright blue and orange jersey was right underneath it, a shiny white number thirteen stitched into the back. You knew you didn’t have to wear it, because Mat wasn’t going to force you to do anything, but you were wet at just the thought of how animalistic Mat would probably get. You tossed on the jersey, throwing an even bigger sweatshirt and sweats over it before you snuck up to Mat’s floor- hoping Chris wouldn’t catch you leaving from the room across the hall.

You pull out the room key Mat gave you, sneaking into the door and locking it shut behind you. You slipped off your sweats, leaving you in nothing but the jersey and your panties.

“Fuck,” Mat dropped his phone from his hand the second you came into his view, “I didn’t think you’d wear it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You muse, your confidence boosting while you strutted over to Mat. He had that effect on you, the ability to always make you feel like the sexiest woman in the world - even if you didn’t feel like were, “But then you beat McDavid.”

Mat pulled you between his legs while he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands toying with the jersey while he let the fabric slip through his fingers, “You look so fucking good in my jersey baby.”

“I’m proud of you Mat,” You purr into his ear, playing into Mat’s ego just a little bit. You were proud of him, and for the first time you wanted him to know. You pressed a kiss against his jaw, feeling his own breath hitch in his throat, “Can I show you?”

“Keep that jersey on and you can do whatever you want to me,” Mat admits, slipping his hand under the jersey and tapping your ass lightly.

“I’ll keep it on,” You giggle, pushing Mat on his back and getting to work. Your lips kissed down his chest with every button of his dress shirt you got undone, tossing it in the corner to be forgotten about until later. You unhooked his belt, leaving open mouth kisses just above his pants. You slid off his dress pants slowly, taking his boxers with them to let his cock spring free. Mat groaned at the sight, gathering your hair to pull it back for you.

“Wait,” Mat stops you, holding your hair back to stop you from putting your mouth on him. His finger traced your cheek, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read, “I just want to remember this, you look so beautiful right now.”

You could feel the heat rush your cheeks, Mat had called you to dozens of things but never once did the word beautiful ever slip through his lips, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to blow you.”

“No, baby, I mean it- fuck,” Mat groans, this thoughts halted by your mouth on his cock. His hips snapped up, hitting the back of your throat, “You’re so fucking good princess.”

You moan, hollowing your cheeks and gripping Mat’s thighs a little tighter, giving him the show you so desperately wanted. You head bobbed in a perfect rhythm, taking as much of Mat as your body could handle. Mat pushes your head back, taking a look at the line of spit that was still connected to his dick, your eyes were glassy and your throat was sore but Mat would keep you like that forever if he could, “Let me finish.”

“I’m in charge tonight,” Mat reminds you, the tone in his voice sent a chill up your spine. You knew Mat was rough, and a little demanding but he never crossed that line with you, “On your knees.”

“Like this?” You tease, sitting up on your knees to rile him up just a little bit more.

“More like this princess,” Mat stands behind you, gently pushing you down so your ass was in the air. He was quiet, bunching up his jersey so he could get a full view of the lingerie he went out and bought just for you, “Be good or I won’t let you cum pretty girl.”

Mat’s threat with a light smack to your ass, a moan escaping your lips. He slipped the black lace panties to the side, gliding one of his fingers against your folds while he pressed a kiss to your skin, “So wet for me already.”

“Only for you Mat,” The words tumbled out of your mouth, your eyes widening at your own confession.

Mat was thankful he was behind you, because if you saw the way his gaze changed from your words he’d never live it down. You looked so perfect, spread just for him. His jersey. His number. And in his own fantasy: his girl. He snapped himself back into reality, sliding into your pussy that was practically dripping in anticipation.

“Faster, fuck Mat please,” You whimpered out, trying to move yourself to get Mat to pick up the pace. He chuckled darkly, hips snapping back and forth until the only sound in the room was the string of curses leaving your mouth, “I’m close-”

Mat flipped you over before you could finish, his hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him, “Tell me this pussy is mine.”

“Fuck I’m yours Mat,” You breath out, locking your eyes with his while it felt like time froze around you, “I’m yours.”

“Look at me when you cum baby,” Mat urges, his hand still gripping your chin. He picked up his place, making use of his other hand around your clit, “C’mon princess just for me.”

Your pussy fluttered around him, Mat letting out a groan while he tried to hold onto this moment for just a bit longer. He looked down at you, catching your breath from your own high. You hand snuck down to his cock, pumping it slowly, “Cum on me.”

Mat nods, letting you work on his dick with your hands while he nibbled at your neck. He was going to mark you up, make you remember who you belonged to because he so desperately wanted it to be him. He spilled onto your pussy, head pressed into your neck while he came down from his own high. You both laid there for a moment, your hand gently stroking Mat’s back while you both took a moment to think about what just happened. Mat was possessive in a way he’d never been before, and you ate it up without a second thought - that had to mean something right?

“I need to get back to my room,” you whisper, afraid to break the comfortable silence.

“I know,” Mat nods, finally picking his head up, “Keep the jersey, you might need it one day.”

“Your stupidity is honestly astounding,” You joke, brushing his hair out of his face while Mat’s face turned into a pout.

“Can I take you on a date?” Mat breathes out, hoping he wasn’t reading this the wrong way, “No games, no funny business, let me take you out.”

Say no. Say no and never call him again.

“One date,” You agree against your better judgement, pushing Mat away and looking around the room to find your sweats that you snuck into his room in, “Better make it a good one.”

Mat smiles, teeth on full display while he watched you slide your pants back on, “I’m the best at everything Y/N don’t forget that.”

“Goodnight Barz,” You tease, giving him one more look before you left his room.

The elevator ride down was quiet, most of the hotel’s occupants already asleep or still out partying the weekend away. For your sake, you hoped Chris would be fast asleep like the grandpa he was. You rushed down the hallway, Mat’s jersey still hanging loosely off your frame while you looked in your hand for your room key. Your search was stopped by a throat clearing behind you. You jump, turning around to see Chris’s eyes boring into you.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

[notyetneedcoffee]

No Secrets, Part 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (???)

Warnings: None in this section

You sat in the car staring at the house. Your beautiful new prison.  

“Miss Y/L/N, you have an incoming call from Miss Maximoff.” The car’s AI announce.  

“Hi Wanda, so who called you?”

“Steve. He sent me the file and thought I might be able to help.” She was on the other side of the planet at the moment. It had to be the dark hours of the morning where she was. Still, she sounded alert and concerned. “How are you holding up?”

“At the moment?” You sighed, gripping the steering wheel hard. “I’m frustrated.”

“That’s it?” Wanda laughed. “I’d be pissed.”

“Yeah, that too.” You admitted.

“Try not to be too angry, though. They just feel like every weird, inane, and inappropriate thing that pops into their head is some how on blazing display now. They conveniently forget that I can pick up on all that, too. I’m just better at not responding.”

You tried to put yourself in Tony’s shoes. As much as you hated it, you understood his reaction. You may not agree with his solution, but you understood. Picturing the crazy stuff that probably popped into the team’s minds, and having to deal with it all at once might be a bit much to deal with, it kind of made you smile. “I suppose being around everyone would get kind of maddening.”

Wanda laughed. “It’s why I don’t do parties. I know you’re still likely to see some of them before this wears off. Please keep one very important thing in mind. People are not what they think. What matters is the way they choose to act.”

“Okay.” You considered her words.  

“Much of what people think are caused by outside influences, or old tapes in their head. Still, they choose to do different. Just like someone may be racked with fear, but behave more bravely than anyone else. There are some people who’s thoughts are plagued with darkness, but they choose to be kind.”

Sitting quietly in your car, in front of the big modern house next to the lake, you knew things could be so much worse. The reality that Tony really was trying to be as good to you as he could right now sunk in. “You’re wiser than your years, my friend.”

“Don’t give me too much credit.” She laughed. “There is one other thing, Padawan. Don’t fight it. It’s like saying ‘hey don’t think about a blue monkey in a pink tu-tu’. You brain immediately conjures the monkey.”

“Okay.” You laughed despite yourself.  

“I don’t know how available I’ll be, but call me if you need to. Whenever, night or day.” Wanda encouraged.

“I will. Listen, thanks.”

“Don’t sound so down. You’re probably going to get tons of sleep, be able to catch up on all the great shows, work out all you want, and not have to listen to Sam and Bucky fight over who gets to pick the music in the gym. Time will fly by.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”  

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Thanks, Wanda.” You cut off the call as you popped the trunk to grabbed your bags.  

The house looked like a team from Architectural Digest picked the décor. It had all the conveniences of Tony’s smart homes. The refrigerator looked to be stocked by one of the compound’s chefs. A neat row of your favorite bottled juice was lined up beside your favorite soda and a stack of your favorite yogurts. On the giant bed you found a set of expensive silk pajamas and a plush robe under a copy of Anna Karenina. In the en-suite bathroom you found a tub big enough for four, and beside it a basket full of spa goodies.  

The cell phone in your pocket buzzed. Steve’s name scrolled across the screen.

“Hey.”

“You made it okay.”  

“Yeah. Tony must be feeling guilty. The house it loaded up with all kinds of gifts.” 

“I hope they’re nice.”

“I suppose.” You sighed. “I’d rather be home.”

“I know.” His voice was quiet.  

“Wanda called.” You sat down on the edge of the tub, running your hand over the fluffy towel.

“Good.” Steve took a deep breath. “I think we have, ah, some stuff to talk about but… God, I can’t do this over the phone. I’m sorry. I just… It feels wrong to do this over the phone.”

One of the generational leaps Steve never managed to make was his attitude towards the phone. It was a utilitarian tool. If you had something important to say, he felt you should do it face to face. You smiled, “I know. It’s okay, Steve.”

“Really?”

“We can talk later.” You gave a humorless laugh. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry, Honey. I really am.” Again his voice dropped low, quiet.

The little endearment warmed your cheeks. He so rarely used it. “No reason to be sorry, Steve.”

“Well, you get settled in and I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Steve,” You sighed. “Thank you for checking on me. You be safe.”  

“Will do.”

Strains of what you thought might be Verdi tickled the back of your mind. You stopped chopping the cucumber and put the knife down. The clock showed 12:35. It was still a half an hour until Bruce was supposed to be at the house.

‘Got to stay focused. This is so going to suck. What if she starts asking me questions? You’re going stumble around like a dumbass. Some genius you are. No. No. It’s going to be fine. It’s a short visit. I’ll be fine.’

Yep. Definitely Bruce.  

You munched on your salad as you split your attention between the British Bake Off on the television and Banner’s constant internal rambling. It swung from running down a check list for his visit to trying to remember the Band Aid’s commercial jingle.  

When the knock came at the door you looked at the clock. Only two minutes had passed. Bruce must have been at the street, or just coming down the long drive, when you heard him. Interesting.

“Hi Bruce.” You opened the door, popping a piece of cucumber in your mouth. “Hungry?”

“Ah, no.” He came in. “Thanks. I don’t want to be rude, but I’d like to just get to it. If you don’t mind, that is?”

“Why not?” You dropped into the chair at the table. “You’re just the first person I’ve seen in a week.”

‘Shit. Shit. Way to be a jerk.’

“It’s okay, Bruce.” You smiled. “I don’t mind, really. What do I do?”

“Ah, bring your chair out here. Then, ah, just let me run the scans.”

You pulled your chair out where he could walk around you. “Do I need to stay still?”

“No, I mean don’t dance around or anything.” He began pulling out equipment. He was internally humming the Verdi piece.  

“How’s the team?” You knew it would be kinder to just be quiet, but you were dying for some interaction.

“Okay. Staying busy.” Came out of his mouth, but a barrage of things hit you. ‘Cap won’t stop moping. Tony needs to cut back on the caffeine. I’m gonna go green on Bucky soon.’

“I heard you just got back. Some mission with Nat and Clint.”

‘What a dress.’  

“Ah, damn it. This sucks.” Bruce looked away from the device in his hands and deep in your eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I’m just afraid to talk about anything okay.”

You frown, nodding. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay quiet.”

‘Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.’

“You know what? Fuck it.” He sighed. “Things are tense. They’re kind of awful. Tony and I stick to the lab. Cap is walking around on auto-pilot. Bucky is fucking impossible. Sam is trying to play peacemaker but failing spectacularly. Clint came up with the mission just because Natasha and Bucky nearly killed each other sparring.”

‘I hate it. Hate it.’

“I’m sorry.” You twisted you hands together. “I don’t want everyone miserable over what happened to me.”

‘No. No. No. Fuck. Don’t cry. I’m going rip Tony’s arms off if she cries.’

“Not your fault.” Bruce sighed.  

“Bruce.” You lifted you jaw. “I know it’s not my fault, but at least if I were there Tony wouldn’t feel guilty, I could tell Steve snap out of it, and I could smack Buck up side the head. You tell them to knock that crap off.”

He chuckled. “I’ll tell them you said so.”

Bruce asked you some medical questions and took a blood sample after finishing the scan. He calmed down quite a bit, but still left as soon as he could. Later that evening he called you to say that the reading were consistent with your time in the lab. The anomaly would go away, it would just take time.  

You made yourself a hot chocolate and curled up on one of the deck chairs to listen to sounds of the evening forest when you got off the phone. It would be a long while alone. The sun wouldn’t set for a while yet, and you were reading a new book. Reading outside lessened the feeling of being trapped.  

‘Don’t care. Got to do this.’

You head came up at the same time you heard the motorcycle pull down the drive. By the time Steve parked his bike, you stood at the edge of the deck just a few feet away. He looked up, seeing you clutch a throw blanket around your shoulders, wearing jeans and an old tee. Steve looked you over from bare feet to big eyes.

‘Beautiful.’

“I missed you.” He said, voice low.

“Missed you, too.”

Steve stepped closer. “I’ve been thinking, a lot. There’s something I don’t think I can, I don’t want, to wait to tell you.”

“Okay.” You swallowed, fighting to hold still. So much, so strong, hit you at once. 

He took a deep breath, his large hand touched your hair, cupped your face. “I’m not sure when my feelings changed, but for a long time now all I can think about is how much I want you, want you to be with me.”

‘Those lips. So pretty.’

You felt a smile curl at the corner of your mouth. His mouth covered yours, lips gentle and soft. When your hands slid along his waist. His tongue swept lightly along your lip and was met by your own. He moan, pulling you close, kiss deepening.

‘God, yes, honey.’

BLEEEP! CRASH!

You both jerked away from each other in shock.    

‘No! Not now!’

It took a second for the realization to hit you that you heard a car crash. Somewhere close by.  

‘No. No. No. Dammit. Not now.’  

Steve looked at you, “I should see what happened.”

“Yeah,” You breathed.

‘No. We should go inside, forget we heard anything. Want to feel you again.’

“It’s okay.” He covered your hand with his own when you touched his chest. “I’ll be here when you get back.” You gave him a warm smile.

‘No. I don’t want to go anywhere. Not missing out again.’

“Okay.” Steve nodded, stepping away from you. “I’ll be back soon.”

TAGS

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[justkindaoverhereobsessing]

so big/so small

In which a nightmare prompts Ziva and Tali to have a little ice cream and a much-needed heart-to-heart.

Written for my friend drabble project, this time for my dear friend @zikaiuris! I appreciate you so much, Alex! <3 The title and a few paraphrased quotes are from “So Big/So Small” from Dear Evan Hansen.

Drabble also available to read on AO3 or ff.

_____________________

It’s nearing four in the morning when something jolts Ziva awake. The instincts that have served her well for many years are humming, telling her that something is amiss. She doesn’t know what it is, but something is wrong. 

She no longer keeps a gun by her bed—a suggestion from her therapist, who seems to think letting go of that physical safeguard will help her let down her mental barriers, too—but it doesn’t matter. Since beginning her training for Mossad nearly two decades ago, she hasn’t really needed a weapon.

Ziva David is the weapon, and that’s something she’ll never grow out of.

She sits up quickly, flicks the bedside light on, and scans the room; nothing seems out of place at all. Tony is sleeping silently beside her, the light no bother to him at all, and his hand is still resting lightly on her thigh. Ziva debates waking him, but there’s nothing so far that suggests she’s not just being paranoid. 

She climbs out of bed and heads for the hall, keeping her eyes and ears alert for any suspicious changes in the Parisian flat Tony and Tali settled into several years ago… and she’s only a few steps from the bedroom she shares with Tony when she hears something that sends her running.

“No! No, Ima! Ima, please!” 

It’s Tali.

A second later, Ziva is bursting into Tali’s room. Thankfully, it’s almost immediately clear what’s happening—Tali is still fast asleep, deep in the throes of what appears to be a nightmare. There’s no external threat, nothing to fight off; that doesn’t stop Ziva’s heart from racing for several long moments, however.

She crouches down next to her daughter’s bed, hating the sight of the trembling little frown on Tali’s face.

“Ima, please don’t—please don’t, I don’t want you to—no, Daddy, please stop her!”

Very concerned, Ziva hastens to wake Tali, being as gentle as possible. She isn’t sure exactly what the five-year-old is dreaming of, only that it must be unpleasant. “Tali, little one, open your eyes. It is all going to be alright—wake up now, my love.”

It takes a few moments of gentle petting and murmuring, but Tali finally opens her eyes, blinking into the dim light shed by her night light. “Tali, are you alright?” Ziva asks quietly, not wanting to startle the girl.

“Ima?” The question is a little disbelieving, its speaker not yet fully awake. 

“I am right here,” Ziva promises quickly. 

“Ima!” All at once, Tali’s tone of sleepy confusion gives way to sorrow, and she bursts into tears. 

Alarmed, Ziva perches on the side of Tali’s bed and gathers her daughter into her arms. “Tali, what is the matter? Shush now, ahava, there is nothing to worry about. Take a deep breath, yes? Ima has you now.”

Tali doesn’t answer and she doesn’t immediately calm, but she clutches onto Ziva until her tears slow and then finally stop. “I had a bad dream,” she mumbles into Ziva’s neck, wiping her wet face on her mother’s shirt.

“I thought that might be the case,” Ziva shares, kissing Tali’s temple and tightening her hold slightly. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Tali shakes her head wordlessly, and Ziva nods. “That is alright. You do not have to say anything.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, and despite what she just told her daughter, Ziva gets concerned when Tali’s arms never loosens their hold and the little one never speaks… truly her father’s daughter, it’s unlike Tali to go for very long without speaking, especially when she’s experiencing strong emotions of any kind.

Making the executive decision that one night of poor sleep and excessive sugar intake won’t hurt the almost-6-year-old, Ziva gets to her feet, automatically adjusting her hold until Tali’s on her hip like she’s still a toddler and not a too-quickly growing girl. “Come, Tali-girl. I know just the thing.”

Tali lifts her head as they emerge into the hall, her curiosity pushing away her lingering distress for the moment. “Where are we going?” she wants to know.

“Patience! You will see!” There’s a smile in Ziva’s voice that she’s sure Tali can hear even if it’s too dark to see, and she gives the girl a little bounce. 

When they reach the kitchen, Ziva deposits Tali on the counter. A murmur of “stay here for a moment” and she leaves her daughter’s side to dig a pint of ice cream out of the freezer. On her way back, she flips the light on so they can see one another properly.

Tali sees the ice cream, and her face—still heavy and sad—brightens. “Ice cream? At night!?”

“Ice cream is good for sadness, yes?” Ziva suggests warmly, pulling out a few spoons and setting them alongside the ice cream tub on the counter next to Tali.

“Hey, that’s what Abba says, too!” Tali shares, slightly impressed by her mother’s unexpected decision to temporarily abandon healthy eating. 

“Who do you think I learned it from?” Ziva teases lightly, hopping up on the counter on the other side of the ice cream. She pulls the top off the tub, hands Tali a spoon, and the two dig into the sweet treat in companionable silence, both swinging their feet lightly against the cabinets below them.

Eventually, Tali speaks, though she doesn’t look at Ziva as she does so. “I had a bad dream,” she says again.

“Oh?”

“I dreamed that…” Tali pauses and takes a bite of ice cream. After she swallows, she sighs. “I dreamed that you went away again.”

There’s something heavy in her voice, too heavy for a five-year-old to carry, and it breaks Ziva’s heart. “Tali, I would not—”

“I dreamed you didn’t want me ‘n Abba anymore.”

That admission arrests Ziva’s voice deep in her throat, and for a moment, she can’t answer.

Tali takes another bite of ice cream, staring at the floor.

“Is that what you think?” Ziva asks finally after several tight swallows.

“No,” Tali says too quickly.

Ziva sighs, experiencing a sensation that has plagued her since reuniting with her family; it’s the feeling that no matter how many steps forward she takes, she’ll never stop taking steps back whether she wants to or not. 

She slides off the counter and moves to stand in front of Tali, putting a hand under Tali’s chin and pulling her small face up until their eyes meet; with her other hand, she gently pries Tali’s spoon from her fingers and rests it back in the ice cream tub. “Tali,” she murmurs, tired and tender.

“Mm?”

“I need you to understand something. Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, Ima.”

“Good girl.” Ziva gives her daughter a small smile; it’s all she can muster, but it seems to reassure Tali anyway. “I need you to understand, sweet girl, that I always wanted you and Abba… especially when I could not be with you.”

“But you weren’t here!” Tali protests, her lower lip and chin starting to quiver again. Her eyes glaze over with a new film of yet unshed tears. 

“I know, darling. I know. But there was nothing I wanted more than to be here.” Until tonight, Ziva had been under the impression that Tali had not questioned her and Tony’s very simplified explanation for her long absence, but now it seems that Tali was merely accepting what they said in favor of not disturbing the peace.

It’s a choice that no child should ever have to make—something no child should ever have to even consider.

“But you weren’t here!” Tali repeats, and a few little tears spill from her eyes onto her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter if you want us, ‘cause you wanted us before and you still went away! I don’t want you to leave again!”

Ziva reaches up to swipe the girl’s tears away, heartened by the fact that Tali doesn’t shrug her off. “Ahava shelli, I think it may be time to tell you more of the story.”

“What story?”

“The story of why you went to live with Abba when you were little.”

She and Tony discussed this in the very beginning—they talked about what Tali had already been told and how much more—and when—to tell her, but it seems that Tali has her own timeline. It’s not fair to avoid answering her questions when being left so entirely in the dark is clearly hurting her.

With that in mind, Ziva starts to talk. She doesn’t go into detail, and she still glosses over the darkest parts of the story… but she tells Tali the very basics of what happened. She explains that there was a very bad woman who wanted to hurt them all, and how in order to protect Tali and Abba, Ziva had to run. She tucks Tali’s hair behind her little ears and tells her that she never lost hope that she’d be able to come back to her family, that Tali and Abba were in her mind every moment of every day, even as she traversed the globe looking for answers and for help. 

Ziva isn’t sure how much of the story Tali is really absorbing, but for once in her young life, Tali doesn’t interrupt. She just listens, nodding or shaking when she’s asked a question but otherwise remaining still and quiet. 

When Ziva finishes, she squeezes Tali’s little hand, which found its way into her own a few minutes ago. “Does all of that make sense?”

Tali nods, but there’s still a small frown furrowing her brow. 

“Do you have questions?”

“Yeah. Is she dead? The lady that wanted to hurt us, did she die?”

“Yes, Tali.” Oh, how Ziva wishes Tali didn’t know what death meant! She won’t lie to her daughter, though... not when the question is this straightforward, not when it’s this simple and it’s an age-appropriate thing to ask. 

“So she won’t hurt you anymore?”

“No. She will not hurt anyone anymore.”

“Did you kill her?”

Ziva swallows, thankful that for now, she doesn’t have to look her daughter in the eye and confess to being a killer. “No, I did not.” She doesn’t add that she would have done so without hesitation had Gibbs not taken the shot he took, though.

Tali seems to accept this, and Ziva takes the break in her daughter’s questioning to reinforce an idea. “Do you see now, however, that I would never be parted from you if I did not have to be?”

“Yeah,” Tali agrees, and now it sounds like she means it.

Ziva draws her into another hug, relishing in the feel of her daughter’s small head resting once more on her bosom. Ziva will never tire of that, nor will she take it for granted. “Good,” she murmurs into Tali’s ear. “Because I will never leave you again. Never. There is not a force in the world strong enough to pull me from your side—no matter what. I am not going anywhere; I will stay right here. No matter what, I will be here, where I belong: with you.”

She can feel Tali smile. “Promise, Ima?”

“I promise. I will hold you whenever you need me to—when it all feels so big, until it all feels so small. I love you more than you will ever understand.”

“I love you, too.” There’s a pause, and then Tali’s head pops back up, a grin on her face that Ziva wasn’t expecting. “Ima?”

“Yes?”

“Can we finish the ice cream now?”

Ziva laughs, extraordinarily glad that Tali is appeased enough to have moved on entirely. “Yes. But you must promise not to tell Abba that we did. He will tickle us mercilessly if he finds that we finished his favorite Moose Tracks without letting him help, yes?”

Tali mimes zipping her lips and throwing away the lock. 

“That is my girl,” Ziva says warmly, and she hands Tali her spoon again. 

Tali won’t always be so easily placated, Ziva knows… but for now, it’s enough to sit side-by-side on the counter again, eating an unreasonable amount of sugar. It’s enough to believe for a moment, as Tali does, that the world is simple and black and white and that asking a few questions can solve any problems. It’s enough to experience this little slice of life that Ziva came so close to losing entirely...

No, that’s not quite right.

It’s more than enough.

[cravingmarvel]

Roman Nightmare - mente di pietra [2]

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, alcohol consumption, charming bucky (if I forgot anything please let me know!) Btw, this series includes a lot of OCs!

Summary: It all started with a hook up, then another one and then Bucky was done for. He fell in love headfirst, no warning and no end to it anytime soon. But Y/n has a boyfriend and a secret and a wedding to attend in Rome. Despite giving him enough reasons to stay away, the two of them are like magnets, always finding their way to each other, wanted or not.

Have fun reading and please like, comment and reblog! Tell me what you think.

Chapter Two - mente di pietra 

Bucky Barnes sat in his home office, listening to a report from Chase who was stationed in Brooklyn, going on about a weapon delivery caught by one of his men. He was listening briefly, but his mind was otherwise occupied. It’s been nearly a month since the one night stand with y/n and Bucky just couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that she hasn’t tried to reach out to him, something that seemingly happens with all the women he shares a bed with for a night.

He glanced over to his phone, checking for new messages, but only the unimportant ones appeared. He momentarily forgot not only Chase, but also the fact that she had no way of knowing the mob bosses’ number. This became a routine over the three and a half weeks, checking his phone, e-mails and even asking Sam, his main correspondent, if she tried to find him.

Sam, understandably, rolled his eyes every time Bucky asked. Sam is his friend first and so his behaviour was excused, but still Bucky got mad at him for not having the answer he wants. Sooner or later Y/n would want to reach out, he reassured himself. He can’t go after her, that’s just not who he is. But somehow his brain kept flashing images of her eyes, her soft skin underneath his palms. He tried to shake the visuals out, locking them away, but there was no use. If he could just see her one more time, graze his fingers through her hair one more time, he would be satisfied.

The women he has around him tend to be a little clingy, lingering around him whenever he’s out with his friends. The ones he takes home have a habit of staying the night until the morning arrives, hoping for breakfast in bed with the attractive bachelor. Bucky doesn’t worry about that really, he’s out of bed before they realize.

Every morning after, Clint, one of Bucky’s most loyal men, escorts the beauties out, bringing them home. Over the years Clint has memorized this routine, already holding his hand out for the girls to put a piece of paper in it with their number on it hoping Bucky will call.

He never does.

As Chase ended the skype call, Bucky leaned back in is leather chair, turning it side to side, before deciding that he had enough. If she’s not reaching out to him, he will reach out to her.

-

Meanwhile, y/n sat in the newly opened café with her friends going over a presentation that was due for the next meeting on Monday. Though they were hard at work, none of them could help the conversation to drift off to non-work-related topics.

As the late evening approached, Chelsea asked for the other girls to get ready for their Friday night outing at her place, but Nina declined. “My parents have set up a date for me.” She lowered her head and y/n placed a hand on her back in pity.

Nina was truly the child of the family, being the younger one of five siblings, all married. She couldn’t help but struggle to find a partner. Not that she wasn’t desirable, she was plagued by shyness. Any man that approached her was met with stuttering words, head hanging low and few words. So, her parents took it upon themselves to lead her into the arms of a suitable companion, though none of the men ever suck around.

“Who is it now, a guy they met at church?” Franzi asked, not with poison, but concern. “Again.” She added, rolling her eyes.

Nina nodded her head not taking her eyes off her thighs, which were covered by the pastel pink skirt she wore ever so often. She never despised her parents for it, looking at it as her parents looking out for her. “Look, it’s not a shame that you’re not married, Franzi is the only one here tied down.” Chelsea spoke, looking over to Franzi who nodded her head. “And besides, you have a job you pour your heart and soul into. The time will come.”

Nina smiled shyly, cheeks turning pink.

While Bucky was focused on y/n, she was focused on her friends, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t cross her mind though. Her friends ever so often reminding her of him and that was enough for her. They asked questions which y/n felt like she couldn’t answer without consent.

After hugging Nina goodbye and wishing her good luck on her date, they walked over to Chelsea’s apartment.

Walking into the stylish place, Chelsea, Franzi and y/n took off their jackets and shoes ready to tackle their outfits, hair and make-up. They each sprinted up the stairs to Chelsea’s bedroom, giddy with excitement for the following hours.

Chelsea was in charge of picking out the dresses for each one, while y/n took over the make-up and hair department. Franzi on the other hand sat on the bed too engulfed by checking her cycle. “Y’know, maybe you should stop drinking if you and Ryan are really serious about this whole baby thing.” Y/n said, looking over her shoulder while letting the curl in her hand fall gently on Chelsea’s back.

Franzi made no effort tearing her eyes away from her phone screen, squinting her eyes. “You really are the least fun one of the group, aren’t you?”

Chelsea started laughing loudly throwing her head back, making y/n nearly burn her scalp with the curling rod. “I think you forgot who had a one-night stand.”

“Yeah like what, a month ago?” Franzi looked y/n in the eyes through the mirror without lifting her head.

Y/n scoffed focusing on the task at hand, finishing up the last pieces of hair and then running her fingers through the curls breaking them apart. Chelsea sprayed a little hairspray while y/n unplugged the curling rod.

-

Bucky stood not so far away from the bar, his eyes flicking to the door every so often. Sam, Steve and Clint stood opposite him, forming a circle, none of them were sure what this was about, but they just ran with it, hoping that she would show up any minute now.

A few women tried to push their way through to him, hoping for a drink spend on his name and maybe a lot more as the night lingers. Bucky spared them no glance though, mind focused on finding her in the crowd. He wasn’t sure about what he would do once she did show up, never in his life has he pursued a woman more than two days and most if not all girls practically slept on his doorstep waiting for him to open the door.

His hand shook around the glass he was holding, earning a few confused glances from his friends. They’ve seen him nervous before, but only when trouble starts to arise. Seeing their boss, the one who shot people straight in the head so shaken by a woman was indeed a strange sight to see.

-

As the three girls walked into the place, the bar was already packed with people, more than usual Franzi said to them. They worked their way through the crowd, the music overpowered by chatter, as they reached the copper bar. They all ordered their usual shot and raised their glasses to the weekend.

“Why the hell is it so full?” Franzi asked annoyed as a group of rather young girls pushed their way past her, each one bumping into her back without an apology.

“Because once a month they have happy hour and today is that day, Franzi.” Chelsea answered her question, knitting her eyebrows together, wondering just how young the girls are.

“Good, I thought the bartender was flirting with me. I swear to god, when Ryan and I have a kid, we will make sure they don’t go near a club until they’re twenty-one.”

While Chelsea and Franzi talked, y/n turned her focus to the crowd, not that she found their chatting boring, but she didn’t find it very interesting either. Her eyes roamed around the room lazily not focussing on anything specific, until her eyes found a pair of very familiar blue ones. She saw Bucky smiling at her, a tumbler glass in one of his hands.

Y/n turned her head away quickly earning the attention from her friends. “Bucky is here.” She whispered as if he could hear her over the noises, interrupting Franzi.

Franzi and Chelsea turned their heads trying to fid him in the crowd, which turned out to not be so difficult. “Yeah, we can tell.” Franzi smiled as Bucky reached the trio.

“Hey.” He spoke, addressing everyone, but his eyes were focused on y/n as she turned around to face him.

“Hey, Bucky. This is Franzi and Chelsea.” Y/n introduced him, and he politely shook their hands. He initiated a conversation, but y/n couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that he was here, talking to her friends.

“Can I steal you away for a moment?” Bucky caught her attention, placing his free hand in the small of her back, gently pulling her away. Y/n nodded and let him lead her through the crowd.

They reached his friends and Bucky introduced them, still keeping his hand steady on her back. Y/n smiled at the three her nerves overflowing asking herself why he was introducing her to his friend group.

“So, what do you do?” Sam asked as he took a long sip from his Bellini con Fragola. “Job wise.” He added.

“Ah, well I work for Stark. Not much to say about that though.” Y/n laughed uncomfortably, looking over to her two friends, who were watching cautiously. The four friends started chatting about Tony Stark, knowing him very personally, but y/n couldn’t really find any way into the conversation.

Franzi and Chelsea noticed the loneliness of their friend beckoning for her to come back. Y/n excused herself from the group, earning a rather confused look from Bucky. She squeezed herself back into the mass of people reaching her two friends with confusion.

Bucky watched after her as she sat back down at the bar and as there were more people swarming in, he decided it would be better to sit down than to stand within the crowd. He beckoned for Sam, Steve and Clint to follow him towards the table at the wall, putting on his rather mean face, ready to scare away the teens sitting on the red velvet benches.

They approached the table and immediately the five people sitting at it turned their heads to Bucky. Four of them looked terrified, but one kept a stern face. He was definitely drunk, Bucky thought, and he almost let the smirk give away his amusement. “Go.” Bucky said without breaking eye contact with the young man.

Everyone but him got up immediately and he was pulled by the girl who sat next to him, her hand firmly on his arm. “C’mon, Brad!” She hissed through her teeth clearly knowing better than to disobey the Bucky Barnes.

Brad got up slowly as Sam and Steve slit onto the bench opposite him, giving up the fight. Bucky and Clint sat down, and Bucky’s eyes roamed around looking for y/n.

Bucky’s jaw clenched watching a man talk to her, laughing as he finished talking. Bucky wasn’t jealous, he convinced himself, that’s just not who he is. He never got jealous, but then again her would never seek out to find a woman let alone introduce her to his friends.

To him it looked as if she was having a lot of fun, but what slipped through his hardened gaze is the fact that she was laughing out of pity.

He watched as y/n slit off the bar stool, rummaging through her purse as she disappeared through the crowd and re-emerged outside the bar. Bucky quickly stood up walking out after her, ignoring Sam as he yelled after him.

Bucky felt his confidence rise as the fresh air hit his face, breathing in deeply. “I can drop you off at home if you’d like.”

Y/n turned; cigarette positioned in between her lips with her lighter in hand. She was clearly more intoxicated, judging by the unsteady posture. “No, thank you.” She smiled back at him.

Bucky chuckled darkly. He could tell she knew what he meant, but he wasn’t quite sure what stopped her form accepting his offer.

Truth was, y/n had no clue what to say to him, she was drunk but not as much as the last time they saw each other. Bucky moved closer to her slowly, holding on to her waist as he took the cigarette away from her lips throwing it into the trash next to them. He leaned into the side of her face and she sensed his cologne better this time around, although she wasn’t sure he even wore some a month ago. “How about we go to my place then?”

Bucky lowered his head, trailing kisses down her neck to her collarbone. A quiet moan escaped her lips, fuelling Bucky’s ego. He held onto her waist tighter as she subconsciously nodded her head. She could feel his fingers digging into her side.

Bucky lead y/n to the familiar black car and opened the door for her. Y/n texted Chelsea what was going on and wished them a fun time.

The car came to a stop and Bucky climbed out of the car opening the door for y/n. She took his outstretched hand and as soon as she straightened her back, her eyes fell on the mansion. It was small compared to other mansions she’d seen online, a cosy in between of extravagance and family home. Bucky lead her closer to the white double doors, the mesmerised look on her face brought a smile to his.

As soon as the doors were opened, Bucky lifted her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs to his bedroom.

-

Around midnight, Bucky had no intention to sleep just yet. He tightened his grip around her waist, burying his face into her hair inhaling the soft tones of strawberry. He relaxed next to her, his eyes following the curve of her lips, to her cheekbones, the delicate rising and falling of her back. He gently ran his thumb over her cheek, placing a kiss to the crown of her head. Bucky exhaled deeply knowing that she would go home in the morning, but an evil part of his heart wanted her to stay, no just tomorrow, but every tomorrow after that.

Only problem was that he had no idea how to admit it to himself nor to the one laying securely in his arms, right where he needed her to be.

-

Y/n lifted the covers off her body, looking over to Bucky sound asleep still. She put her dress back on and went to grab her purse, but the darkness made it impossible to find. Y/n quietly shuffled around the room trying to decipher where her purse could be, but knew it was impossible to find anything in this room with no light.

The door squeaked as she opened and closed it with a click. She walked down the stairs into the small foyer spotting the security guard next to the door, the same one that drove them here. As she walked towards him, he held out the purse she was missing, saying that she left it in the car.

“Would it be possible if you could call a cab for me?” Y/n spoke quietly, but the bodyguard shook his head, telling her that she will be driven home. Y/n nodded her head and immediately heard footsteps approaching.

“Leaving so soon?” Clint spoke as he walked out of the house, Y/n following him.

“You’re Ben, right?”

“Clint.”

Y/n nodded her head, red tinting her cheeks as she climbed into the backseat. Her phone buzzed in her purse and as she read the message her heart picked up beating faster.

Harry:

Hey Babe!!!   I just landed. How ab lunch tomorrow?

***

Masterlist || Next

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Bonds

TITLE: Bonds

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 / ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-darkmidnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki assuming your nephew is your son. He’s not totally wrong, though, since you’ve been the boy’s legal guardian for a couple of years now. Plus, you do play a convincing “mother” role. (more to the imagine in link)

RATING:  M (Swearing, maybe some violence and MAYBE some smut)

NOTES/WARNINGS: I don’t want to give too much away but obviously adoption takes place.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: In Raelynn’s POV. Immediately set later in the day of when Raelynn saw Loki in the park at the end of the first chapter. 

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

LENGTH: As usual I will try to keep to my 3,000 words per chapter.

*FINALLY..Read the warnings. Once you agree you can handle it...

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

Raelynn sat at the table with Travis. 

He was talking about the animals he played with at the park. 

"The ducks really liked the pellets better than the bread. The squirrels couldn't talk much because they are getting ready for winter, could we get some nuts for them?"

Raelynn smiled, "yeah we could stop by the store tomorrow."

Travis looked at her odd. "You okay?"

Raelynn laughed a little. "I'm okay. Why would you say that?"

"Since seeing Loki you've been weird. You've told me how he is a good friend many times before, but thats the first time I've actually seen you two talking…"

Raelynn shrugged, "Just sort of fell out of contact is all. It was nice seeing him today though."

"Would you want to see him again?"

Raelynn's heart leaped at patching things with him and maybe telling him her own confession.

Then her heart crushed itself with how she left him behind. How she would ignore him after a while.

Raelynn looked to Travis, her nephew.

She didn't confess to Loki due to having to take custody of him. A relationship with her was now a relationship with a child. It wasn't just about her anymore.

She shrugged with a tight smile, "we will just have to see what happens. Maybe we will see him again."

Travis shrugged standing up, taking his plate to the kitchen. "I hope so. Natasha is cool and all, but she's your only friend. You need more friends."

Raelynn was quick to her own defense, "I have other friends!"

Travis rolled his eyes, "my friends' parents don't count. You only have Natasha."

Raelynn watched Travis carefully, "Why such an interest in my friendships?"

Travis shrugged, "You always encourage me to make friends. But you only hang out with Nat."

Raelynn cleaned the table. "It's okay to have a few really good friends. Natasha is a really great friend." Raelynn chuckled and ruffled his hair, "Don't worry about me Kido."

Travis pushed her hand away with a laugh, "stop that."

Raelynn ruffled his hair again. "Shower time. It's going to be past your bedtime by the time you are done."

Travis made a face, "Can't I shower in the morning?"

"I just cleaned your sheets a few days ago. Shower before bed."

Travis rolled his eyes, threw his head back dramatically as he turned towards the bathroom.

Raelynn typed a message to Natasha to see if she could call soon, then continued doing the dishes. Her phone went off from a message, but she waited until she heard the shower running to call Natasha.

Natasha answered quickly. "Hey, whats up?"

"I saw Loki today."

"Tell me more."

"I took Travis to the park today so he could feed the ducks. I sat on THE bench. Then Loki greeted me. It was nice. He met Travis today too. Obviously, since I took him there… He seemed really good with Travis…… anyway! Travis said I've been weird since seeing Loki and that I need more friends. Apparently, his friends' parents don't count."

Natasha chuckled a little. "Travis in the shower?"

Raelynn let out a few breaths of laughter. "Yes he is."

Natasha's grin could be heard. "So he was good with Travis?"

Raelynn sighed, rubbing her face. "Yes. I mean, I think? He was really nice to him. He was shocked at first, but he was very polite."

"I know you didn't want to put Loki in the situation at the beginning, but what do you think now?"

Raelynn inhaled deeply with a frustrated groan, "I don't know. I do wonder what it would have been like to have him there… but, It was extremely rough in the beginning. Poor Travis didn't understand what was going on. He was four when I got custody. You know how it was."

"I do. And you are a great mother figure for him." 

"I swear, if it wasn't for you to talk to and the help I got from Clint… I'd still be struggling. Well, worse than now."

Natasha perked up, "Laura is still waiting for you to bring Travis over again. You could drop him off and we could hang out."

"I don't know…"

"Raelynn. When have you had a day to yourself? You barely let the kid out of your sight. You have his friends come spend the night at your house. Has he ever stayed at a friend's house?"

Raelynn paused for a moment, "well no."

"I get you are his guardian now but you have to have some time to yourself. Time away from work, from motherly duties, from everything. We will get Tony to throw a party."

"I wasn't much for big crowds. I'm fine, I don't need to get out."

"Maybe some cuddle time with Loki?"

Raelynn blushed, remembering how Natasha would purposely wink at them when they would be cuddling on the common room couch. "I can practically see your wink and smirk. -That's never going to happen again anyway."

"Never know.. I know you daydreamed about it at least once today."

"Whatever Natasha."

Natasha laughed, making Raelynn smile. 

She heard the shower shut off.

"Alright, I gotta get Travis to bed. You know he gives me a hard time getting up in the morning."

Again, Natasha's smirk could be heard as she sing-songed, "I bet Loki would read him to sleep."

Raelynn dreamed of that happening multiple times, but it would never.

"Goodnight Natasha."

"Try to have a goodnight. We can talk later. Night."

Raelynn set her phone on the counter with a sigh. She finished putting away the dishes when she heard Travis walk into the kitchen.

Raelynn turned with a smile, "Ready for a story?"

Travis yawned, "Yeah."

After reading to him and he was in the embrace of sleep, Raelynn showered and tried to rest as well.

With her alarm blaring loudly, she woke up slowly. Touching her alarm, it shut off and told her it was definitely time to wake up. She groaned getting out of bed, hating her mind for keeping her up. Getting up, she heard the multiple alarms for Travis, knowing he was still sleeping... Raelynn went to wake him up for the first time.

Between getting herself ready, she went into Travis' room every 5 minutes, and got the table ready for breakfast.

She went back into Travis' room and he was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Raelynn sighed, "Come on Travis, get ready. You gotta eat and I gotta get you to school."

Travis sat up and swung his legs over. "Today is Friday, right?"

Raelynn nodded, "yes. You got the weekend off after today. Maybe your friends could come over?" She watched him get a little sadder. "Something wrong?"

"No."

"Travis, what's going on?"

"John is having a slumber party Saturday. And I know you wouldn't let me go, so I didn't ask."

Raelynn felt her stomach sink. "Maybe-"

"Just get out of my room. I don't want to hear any lies about a 'next time.'"

Raelynn turned slowly as she nibbled on her lip. She sighed heavily once sitting at the table. Knowing she was over protective, but acknowledging the issue did not stop her worrying. She rested her head in her hands, contemplating on what to do.

Travis sat down at the table with a huff, not saying anything.

The ride to school was quiet too.

Before he got out, Raelynn turned. "I'm sorry. I am just worried about you."

Travis jaw tightened, "I know."

"We will go to the store after I pick you up, get those nuts for the squirrels. Sound good?" Raelynn offered a smile.

Travis crossed his arms. "I guess."

Raelynn let her face fall. "Alright. Have a good day kido."

Travis left without a word, slamming the door.

Raelynn watched him go inside the school before sighing and going back home. 

She felt terrible but also rightfully worried.

Travis was under her care now. She didn't want anything to happen to him and most importantly she didn't want him to feel unwanted. She also wanted him to have good friends and be able to talk to her. 

She apparently had already made a wall of communication errors.

Raelynn rested her head on the steering wheel. Shut the car off but did not get out. "Fuck."

She dialed Natasha's number, hearing her voice after a ring.

"Travis admitted that there is a slumber party tomorrow night but didn't tell me because I would say no. I feel like an ass hole…"

Natasha sighed, "well. I get you want to make sure he feels wanted but I think you are holding on a little too tight. You gotta let the baby bird learn to fly."

Raelynn groaned. "But how?"

"You could buy one of those watches that is set up for tracking steps and hooked up for messages."

Raelynn tilted her head in thought. "Isn't that…. A little much?"

"You would feel more at peace with it and Travis would be able to have some breathing room."

Raelynn pushed her lips together. "I suppose."

"I could hang out with you tomorrow while he is with his friends?"

"That sounds nice…"

"You don't sound thrilled. He will be fine Rae."

"Okay. Okay. I am supposed to take him to the store to get nuts for the squirrels. I'll let him pick out his own tracking device."

Natasha laughed a little. "Well that's basically what it is."

Raelynn forced a nervous laugh. "Well first I need to call and make sure its okay for him to go. Ya know? He probably did not tell them he was going."

"Probably a good idea. I'll talk to you later. Call the parents."

Raelynn took a breath, looking at her phone. Anxiety took control of her mind and body, all the terrible scenarios and horrible questions of "what if" plaguing her mind. Her stomach felt ill at everything.

She couldn't back out now though.

Natasha wouldn't let her live it down…. As well as feeling bad for Travis.

Raelynn imagined how happy he might be, which settled a miniscule amount of worries.

Raelynn called the mother of John. Unfortunately for Raelynn it went well, John's mother was ecstatic to have Travis over. She promised everything was fine and he would have fun, apparently there were many activities planned for them. Of course Raelynn thanked her for the assurance he could spend the night.

"Yeah, I could pack a bag incase he does stay." Raelynn did not think it'd go that far.

After hanging up Raelynn sat at her computer, researching different ways to keep in contact with Travis. She assumed, but it was confirmed, Travis would need a better phone. His simple flip phone would not work. Perhaps she could just get him a smart phone? Raelynn sat back with a sigh. Travis lost things constantly, Ofcourse he would need the watch too. The watch would stay on him, not the phone.

She sat at her desk and decided to get some programming done for her clients while she waited for school to be over.

Once Raelynn had Travis in the car she held casual conversation with him, he was obviously upset. They got into the store, picked out some nuts for the squirrels and got a few other things for the house. Then Raelynn looked at the snacks in front of her.

"So I called John's mom…" Raelynn hid her smile at Travis' instant attention. "I asked if it was okay for you to go over for a little. She said she would love to have you over. There is something else we need to shop for though…"

Travis's smile was threatening to crack his face. "What?"

Raelynn put a box of new crackers to try in the cart. "Well… you know how I don't like you going too far. I'm going to get you a smart phone with a watch. I'm going to buy a watch for me too. The watches will show notifications like calls and texts so we can keep in contact."

Raelynn looked to Travis who was excited.

"I get a smart phone?"

"You need to promise me you will update me regularly."

"I promise!" Travis exclaimed as he held his pinky out.

Raelynn smiled as she wrapped her pinky around his. "Let's go to the electronic store. They'll have more options."

Travis took his pinky away with a raspberry blown. "You just wanna look at the new stuff."

Raelynn rolled her eyes with a grin. "Well duh."

They picked out watches, a new phone for Travis, and Raelynn made sure to get a case and glass screen protector for the phone. She might have purchased a new video game… or few.

Arriving home Raelynn felt uneasy as Travis was excited about his phone. She set it up for him and made sure the watches worked. Feeling a little better once notifications worked. Travis smiled widely as she gave him the new devices.

"If you have questions, just let me know. Phones are capable of a lot. But its mostly important you know messages and calls."

"I got that part Rae Rae. You showed me two times and made them the lock screen thingys. I promise to check in."

Raelynn looked to the watch, tapping into it with her own watch… At least it worked.

"Alright Kiddo. You ready for the park? Those squirrels will be excited."

Travis grinned, grabbing his jacket, "Ofcourse."

Raelynn let him play with his phone in peace in the car ride. Once at the park Travis excitedly gave squirrels a few nuts each. Then he saw a friend and showed them his phone. They seemed to exchange numbers and talked huddled together over the devices.

Raelynn sighed as she watched them. Tomorrow was going to be hell on her nerves.

"May I sit here?"

The voice was familiar, like a fond memory. 

She smiled at Loki.

"You may."

He sat on the bench, making butterflies flutter out of control. Though he sat at a distance of a stranger, not like the treasured memories she had. Silence enveloped them, and awkward feelings weighed on Raelynn. The urge to grasp his hand was still fresh in her mind from over three years ago.

Loki sighed, "I admit, it has been a long time since I have sat on this specific bench."

Raelynn smiled, "they put a new playground over there. Travis likes the jungle gym."

Loki looked to the playground, then to Travis who was handing nuts to the squirrels with the friend. "Apparently the little critters too."

Raelynn grinned, "he loves animals. Very good with them too."

Loki's smile never left and his eyes were warm, "can he talk to them? Like you with electronics?"

Raelynn nodded, "yes he can. We come here often because he likes the animals that are here and the pets that pass through."

Raelynn smiled briefly then looked elsewhere out of the awkward silence. She played with her hair, longer since three years ago, it has been trimmed a few times and would be needing it done again. 

"I. Uh. I'm sorry. I feel like it needed to be said." 

Raelynn glanced at Loki who observed her with those gorgeous green eyes. With the look in his eyes, he was vulnerable, watching her carefully. Like in the past when he could only listen to her words of comfort. Raelynn sighed turning towards Loki, letting him know he had her attention and sincerity.

"I feel terrible that I treated you the way I did. I should have gave you the opportunity to be involved after I left. But I was a coward. I didn't want to…" Raelynn sighed as tears welled in her eyes. She looked away and blinked until the emotions passed enough to speak again. "Its not just me anymore. I have to take care of Travis now. And he has been my priority since the beginning. He still and will always be my priority. Sometimes his needs are met before most of my own, especially before any of my wants and desires. You are an amazing person, you did not deserve the way I treated you."

Loki slightly smiled. "I appreciate your apology. I fully understand children come first, they always should…" 

Raelynn watched his tongue lick at his lips before they parted. His eyes showing many thoughts but his mouth told nothing. His mouth closed and Raelynn worried that was all he would say. He looked to his lap at his hand causing her to wonder if some thoughts were of his past.

"Perhaps… If you are willing -If its okay. We could try to start over? Be friends again."

Raelynn's heart leaped. He knew she was attached to Travis now and it couldn't hurt to get close to him again. ...Right? She smiled after a moment of staring at Loki for so long. "I would like that."

Loki smiled and his eyes lit up to a bright green. "I would too."

Raelynn glanced to Travis who met her stare, which faltered as he glanced to Loki. Then grinned, running off to the playground with his friend.

"He seems full of energy." Loki spoke seeing Travis running around.

Raelynn sat back on the bench. "Yeah. All the time. Except in the mornings. He is a completely different kid."

"I can agree that the mornings are not desirable."

Raelynn laughed, "I remember you were so grumpy before your morning tea."

Loki turned to her, "and I remember you, who insisted on talking my ear off despite my lack of tea. Every morning."

Raelynn shrugged with a smile. "By the time you would wake up I had two cups of coffee already. You were usually the last one awake."

"I still have no idea how you function on less sleep than I need. We would stay up until the same time before we went to bed. You would always be up before me."

Raelynn laughed at Loki's face of disgust and disbelief. "I don't know. I've never needed much rest."

Loki’s eyes softened and a sweet smile pulled his lips, making Raelynn smile back.

Nothing needed said. Their bond was back, and Raelynn pondered… 

It never felt broken.

[allegra-writes]

Living Proof

Irondad & Stark daughter!reader

General audiences

Warnings: Starks like to swear

The request:

Hi!.. Can you make a fanfiction reader who's from our world and gets transported into Avengers Endgame or another one about injured daughter Stark and father Tony because she accidentally spilled boiled hot water onto her hand?.. Thank you!

"Miss Stark, your father and the rest have arrived" Friday's disembodied voice finally put you out of your misery, halting your pacing in front of the massive windows of your bedroom.

" Oh, thank the gods!"

You made your way to the elevators in ten seconds flat, which was quite a record considering how huge your penthouse at the new Avengers Tower was. But you just couldn't help it: It was only a few weeks after The Endgame Incident, as you and Peter had come to call it; only a few weeks after you had gotten your whole universe back just to almost loose the most important thing in there, your father, that very same day.

You ran through the platform ignoring Friday's warnings about your untied laces until you crashed a little too hard with the still armored chest of your dad, but his strong arms (one of them even stronger now) stopped you from falling.

"Hey, kiddo" He said holding you tight and burying his nose on top of your head, breathing you in.

" How did everything go? Is everyone alright? Are you hurt?"

"Woah, slow down kid" He broke the hug but still hold your shoulders at arm's length, "everything's fine! I'm fine! Just a little bit tired, that's all..."

"Ok" The breathe you didn't know you were holding finally came out. Still you couldn't let go of him completely, so you both made the walk back inside arm in arm.

"Pepper called, said she and Morgan were running late so they'll spend the night at the lake house. I made you dinner, it's in the oven"

He smiled down at you,

"You spoil me too much, heartie"

Once inside he let go of you but not before kissing your temple.

"I'm going to shower and then we can eat all together. You should take one too, you look stressed, it'll help calm you down just like when you were little, remember?" He gave your hand one last squeeze and disappeared down the hallway. You frowned. Last mission you had been on together you had literally watched him die, could he really blame you for having anxiety now every time he wore his Ironman suit?

"You truly do look awful, y/n" Peter’s voice said right beside you, making you jump. You knew it was true, two weeks of restless, sleepless nights were bound to catch up with you eventually. He didn't look all that better than you but that actually didn't surprise you: You could remember more than him, that much was true, still he was awoken at night by the same nightmares that plagued you. You knew, you could hear his muffled screaming late in the night from your bedroom.

"Parker, jeez! I didn't see you there! And thanks, you do know how to make a girl feel special..."

"Pfft, like you're one to talk, Stark! You didn't even noticed me until two seconds ago" he took a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

"Now you guys know how we feel all the time" Sam quipped coming to a stand in front of the elevators with an exhausted looking Bucky by his side.

"What are you even talking about?"

"Oh, I don't know" Sam pretended to wonder, "Barnes, we did come through that door too, didn't we?"

"You know what, Wilson, I think we did..." To your surprise, Bucky played right along.

"Funny how none of them seemed to notice... I mean I wasn't expecting a hug but maybe a 'Hello Mr. Falcon, are you ok too?'"

"Maybe Stark upgraded these suits, made us invisible" Shrugged Bucky. "And speak for yourself, I was absolutely expecting a hug"

"We don't ignore you! Come have dinner with us!"

"We already ordered Thai, sorry kids"

"Yeah, we don't need your pitty food!" Wilson called out, without stopping his way.

"Aw, c'mon guys, don't be like that!" But this time you were the ignored one, as the elevator arrived and they stepped inside, still complaining about gen-Z kids not paying enough respect to elder war veterans.

Peter and you exchanged a look.

"Well, at least they're talking to each other..."

...

"Heartbeats, would you pass me the juice?"

You furrowed your brows a little, the juice jar was actually closer to your father than it was to you. Maybe he was afraid to break it with his new arm, or was still a little self conscious about it. You hated to think he might be feeling such a thing, to you that metal arm was a testament of his bravery, of the sacrifices done in order to defeat Thanos, of how much more he had been willing to sacrifice. But you knew your dad was a vain man...

In any case, it wasn't that much of a bother so you reached for the juice. But as soon as you did, Tony snatched your hand and pulled back your sweater sleeve, revealing the bandage that covered your whole forearm.

"That's exactly what I thought I had seen", his voice was hard, "Care to tell me how did you get hurt and why were you hiding it from me?"

"I wasn't hiding it, dad, it's just a little burn, it's no big deal"

He was having none of that.

"Just a little burn? I don't think so, this thing covers half your arm. Who patched you up anyway? This gauze things are prehistoric!"

"I did it myself, I know how to treat a burn you know?" You were trying not to get offended, you wanted to become a doctor and had plenty of practice in first aids, thanks to your housemates's line of work.

"You didn't even had it looked? Peter, call Strange"

"Already texting him"

You didn't even have time to send him a betrayed look before a portal opened up right beside him in the kitchen and Doctor Strange stepped out of it in all his wizardry paraphernalia.

"Stark! What happened, who's hurt?"

You could feel your cheeks burning, mortified.

"No one's hurt, I just spilled some boiled water on my arm while I was cooking, it's not important!"

Stephen exchanged a look with your father, and next thing you knew, the three of you were standing in the med bay.

"Dude, you left Pete on the kitchen? Rude much?"

"Shut up, kid" Strange snapped his fingers and suddenly no sound was able to leave your lips. Indignated, you turned to your dad, only to find him trying to conceal a smile. And poorly, you might add.

"Neat trick, useful. You have to teach me how to do that..."

"Yes, I imagine it might come in handy while dealing with teenagers" Stephen's tone was as crisp and laconic as always, but his eyes betrayed his worry as his hands tenderly unwrapped your arm. "Now if you could make yourself useful and tell me what exactly happened..."

"Sorry, Dumbledore, I was on a mission, you gonna have to ask Cher Horowitz here."

With an eye roll and another snap, your voice was back.

"Thanks!" You imbued the word with as much sarcasm as you could muster. Stephen was unperturbed.

"Anytime. What happened to your arm?"

"I was in the kitchen, boiling some potatoes, everything normal. And then, when I went to strain them- I just..." You stuttered, "When I went to strain them my hand just slipped"

"So the water was at boiling point, not just hot. That's not good. What did you do next?"

"I opened the faucet and put my wrist under cold water"

Strange continued his examinations,

"That was a good call," He approved, "How did your hand slipped exactly? This looks like a splatter...?"

You knew you were turning redder and redder,

"I heard a loud noise," you mumbled barely audible, "and I kinda jumped a little bit"

It must have been loud enough, because you saw your dad flinch at your words. You tried to diffuse the tension. "So what's the verdict, doc?"

"These looks second degree. You did a good job but I do believe your father has something a little higher tech to patch you up. Tony, I think you can take it from here."

Doctor Strange stood to leave and you hurried to apologise,

"Sorry to bother you, doc. I told my dad it was nothing but he wouldn't listen" you side eyed your afored mentioned offending parent but strange interrupted you.

"Nonsense, Tony you did the right thing, from now on I want you to call me for the most minimal scratch your daughter might get."

Your dad smirked,

"I wasn't planning on anything different."

"What? Why?" You said confused. Strange gave you a look that let you know exactly what he thought of your intelligence,

"Why? Because we worry about you, you dim witted child"

"'Dim witted'?" You quipped, "Careful there, Strange. Your Benedict is showing"

He threw you a wink over his shoulder before stepping into another portal, leaving alone with your father.

Tony pretended to busy himself with rummaging through a draw to get whatever the "higher tech" for treating your wound was but you could see the little frown of concentration that betrayed there was something more important on his mind.

"Look, sweetheart" He finally started "I'm not going to ask you why my daredevil of a daughter suddenly is so jumpy that she actually gets scared by loud noises, or why she traded her high hills and designer clothes for jeans and sneakers" He sat down on the stretcher next to you and lift your chin with a finger, to make sure you were looking at him in the eyes when he talked. "And, the most important one, I won't ask you why you traded your Stark melodramatic flare, for hiding your injuries. Don't give me that look, ever since you were a little Morgan sized squirt you came running to me with any boo-boos for me to kiss them better, you always loved attention. I won't ask any of that, you'll come to me when you are ready.

... What I am going to tell you, however, is that if you think even for one second that anything that happens to you is unimportant, or somehow less significant or worrying to me compared to my own wounds or whatever is going on inside that head of yours, you are sorely mistaken.

Baby girl, I just spend five years of my life.." his voice broke a little but he braved on "I just had to spend five years if my life without you. And it was four years, eleven months, twenty-nine days, twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes too many. And Strange told me that time passes differently inside the... Soul realm or universe or whatever that place you were trapped was, so how much was it for you?"

You lowered your gaze and tried to collect yourself a little before answering.

"It was... Longer." You admitted.

You could see he was taken aback.

"Longer... It was longer for you, that's-" he had to clear his throat and swallow a couple of times before he finally was able to put his ideas in order. You hated to cause him more pain but you couldn't get yourself to lie about it. Not to him.

"Right, it was longer than five years to you. Don't you think we have enough things to make up for already then? Too much time taken from us, too many hugs, too many family dinners, too many boo-boos to kiss?" He added with a small, sad smile, "isn't that why you are cooking for me? Why you are taking care of me, of all of us?"

You gave him a small nod, since the knot in your throat wouldn't let you speak your affirmation loud out.

"Then, my iron heart, no more secrets, ok? No more... Hiding things, no matter how small they seem. Because five years without hearing the little things and happenings from my daughter's life was more than enough for me. Ok?"

Once again you nodded, trying to find the words to say. Finding none, you use the Stark's favorite diversion tactic: Sarcasm.

"Really dad? Tegaderm? That's the high tech Dr. Strange was talking about?" You said once your father had wrapped your wound in a transparent film.

"You of little faith" He scoffed, "wait and see, you sceptic little brat."

It took only a handful of seconds for the film to light up in some kind of luminous grid that a second later took the exact color of your skin and disguised the burn completely. Even the edges of the film were indistinguishable from your own skin.

"Cool, huh?" Your dad proclaimed proudly, "Banner and I designed them, in just seconds they analyze your skin tipe and kind of injury and release antibiotics and painkillers accordingly. They shorten in half the healing time too."

"I stand correct, dad, these are... Pretty awesome" you admitted, still admiring your arm.

"That's all I wanted to hear" He stood up to leave. You chew your lip.

"Dad, wait." You stopped him. He turned around.

You weren't completely ready to talk, not about everything. But it was time you started to lean on each other a little again. Time to start being the thight knit unity you guys once were. You both wanted that back. You deserved to have it back.

"Dad, it's different for me. Different not only from Peter and the rest but different from how it is for Strange..." You tried to explain. "Dad, I remember everything. Clear as day."

Tony sighed and went to sit down again next to you. He rubbed his face with his good hand to try and dry them without you noticing, but you saw the tears filling his eyes.

"Yeah... Strange mentioned something like that. Can I ask you about it? About the soul world"

"I'm not sure that's what it was. I think we were transported to a different universe. Or transferred. Like, our souls were send to our bodies there. We... Had whole lives there. Different lives. We were other people. And I remember everything, not only what it was to be there, but what happened before too... To this other y/n"

"So now you have..."

"Two sets of memories, yes" You confirmed.

Your dad took a deep breath, obviously trying to keep it together.

"Well... I always said that eidetic memory of yours was a superpower"

You let out a small bitter laugh.

"More like a curse, I would say."

"How was it? This other universe?"

You looked at the floor. You had to tell him, he deserved to know.

"... Mom was- Mom was still alive."

You heard his choked sob and wondered if maybe telling him was a mistake, but he was soon taking you in his arms, holding you tightly, and you knew it was as much for him as it was for you.

"I'm sorry, baby girl, I'm so so sorry"

"What? Why, dad?”

“For taking you away from that” He kissed your head and hold you even tighter if that was possible.

You shook your head.

“No, dad, you don’t understand” you tried to explain, “She was still alive, but you weren’t my dad. You weren’t even Tony Stark, and I missed you. I missed you so fucking much!” You didn’t realize you had started crying until your dad started to dry your tears with his hand.

“Oh my heart, I missed you so fucking much too!”

You sat like that, holding each other (and holding onto each other) until both your sobs subsided.

“What do you mean I wasn’t even Tony stark?” your father asked once you both were calmer, and his curiosity had had the best of him.

“You were just an actor in a movie.”

“Was I still cool tho?” he joked. It worked, because you couldn’t help but laugh as you thought of Robert Downey Jr.

“You are always the coolest guy in the world, dad. No matter what universe.”

“Oh yeah? Were you a fan?” He teased.

“Of course I was.” You replied honestly “Your last movie? I watched it at least three times.” That’s how I knew how to save you, you didn’t add.

“Anyway, if- If I seem different…” you tried to explain, “that’s why.”

“Its ok, sweetheart, I understand.” He kissed your head again, but still didn’t let his grip on you go. It finally gave you the courage to ask the question that had been on the back of your mind ever since you got back.

“Daddy?” You tried to control your voice but it still came out little. You hated how needy you sounded. “Do you still love me? Even though I am… changed?”

“Oh, y/n!” He pulled away only to look you in the eye. “Do you know why I am always calling you “my heart” and stuff like that?”

You shook your head no.

“Because that’s what you are. From the very first moment they put you in my arms, after you were born” He cupped your head, remembering how he used to be able to cup your whole tiny little body in his hands like that, “Long before the arch reactor, you were living proof that Tony Stark has a heart.”

You couldn’t help to start crying again, which caused him to start crying again. Still, he carried on, because he needed to say it, and you needed to hear it.

“And now, you have literally given me a new heart” He touched the new, star shaped device on his chest. “And after what now I know you went through, are still going through… God, you are so strong, you truly are my iron heart. And I couldn’t be prouder. I couldn’t ever stop loving you. Not even if you went vegan.”

Your laugh was a little wet, but it was real this time.

“Ironheart. I kinda like it, has a ring to it…”

Your father smiled, knowing exactly what you were thinking about.

“We’ll see.”

You finally stood up to leave, but on your way out of the medbay…

“Ouch!”

“What happened, what is it?” Your dad panicked.

“I just stubbed my toe on a table leg, dad. Don’t freak out!”

You heard his blaster charging.

“Which table??”

“Dad, no!!”

The End.

(For that table as well)

Wow! This turned out way more emotional than I was planning to, but I loved every single minute of writing this request, so thank you, @huggeygirl I hope you like it as much as I do. This one is for you.

[shezza1854]

PICKING UP THE PIECES

                                 Chapter 1. Breathing Space It was his palace now; this small ramshackle farmhouse. From it, he reigned over New Asgard like the king he was supposed to be. Yet, this king bore the heavy twin burdens of guilt and failure that drove him to overindulge in beer and food, forcing him to pack on the pounds and become the proud owner of a huge belly. In his sleep, nightmares plagued him, causing him to wake up screaming and throwing him into a deep depression. He was Thor Odinson, no longer the God of Thunder and Lord of the Lightning; but Thor Odinson, God of Gluttony! Silence hung heavy in the air as he watched her walking about the room. She said not a word, but every once in a while, a tear would fall as she remembered the emotional pain he caused her five years ago. He was just starting to feel his guilt then, and she was offering her friendship and support, only to be driven away. Terrible and ugly things were said, and they hadn’t spoken to each other since. It was her decision to come and see him with the intent to mend fences and, hopefully, to start again. She hoped he felt the same. Weary of walking, she finally sat on the threadbare couch and folded herself up into a ball. He cautiously approached her, unable to gauge her mood. He carefully sat down beside her and waited for her to speak. She looked balefully at him through one eye, never knowing whether to chew him out or just take him in her arms and forgive him. Heaving a huge sigh, she uncurled herself and got her first full look at him. Gone was the sleek black and silver armour with its red cape and, in its place, he wore an ancient pair of tan plaid pants, a pair of Crocs, a couple of shirts layered one atop the other; all covered by some sort of jacket. His beard was scruffy, and his hair looked as though it hadn’t seen a bottle of shampoo for about a fortnight to a month. In short, the poor man was a mess. He sat on his end of the couch much as he did on that bench five years ago; big hands folded in front of him and failure written in his eyes. He bowed his great shaggy head and started to sob. That made up her mind. She slid over to him and held him as tightly as she could. He, too, remembered that awful day five years ago, smiling a little as he felt his shoulders being rubbed. He looked at her, wondering how he could hurt her the way he did; returning her embrace. “Doc Strange told me everything,” she finally said. “I wasn’t your enemy, Thor. You could’ve told me.” “I know, my lady, but it was all too painful to repeat. The words I said to you were those of a spoiled child who revels in the pain and misery of others. I’ll admit I was surprised he brought you hereafter that,” he explained. “If you wish, you can end our friendship, and we’ll say goodbye here.” She shook her head as she chuckled at that notion. She leaned her forehead against his. “If there was one lesson I learned from that first day I met you, that lesson was there’s no getting over you, Thor Odinson. I’m here to give you a second chance and hope that you and I can go further than just being friends?” she told him. “I mean if you’ll have me.” “ Rossi, you don’t know how much I want that, but look at me! I’m fat. I eat and drink too much. I sit around and play games all day. Surely, you don’t want a mess like me who had failed everyone. Are you sure I’m the one you want?” he asked as she hugged him. “I guess I am the one you want.” She kissed him and patted his belly. She cared not what he looked like for she wasn’t too svelte herself. She liked men with big soft bellies for it meant they had plenty of padding to squish, and Thor had more than his fair share of squish. He shook his head as he tried to dry his tears. Excusing herself, she headed for the nearest Kleenex box. She returned to his lap, box in hand, and gave him two of its contents. He blew his nose and dried his eyes, looking at her again. “I...I don’t deserve you, Rossi,” Thor hiccupped. “I don’t deserve the friendship of anyone. I’m a fat failure.” “You let me be the judge of that? Over these past five years, I’ve grown quite fond of you, my big beautiful Viking. Yes, you did hurt me when you drove me away that first time. Well, my dear boy, you’re not going to do that again,” she told him in no uncertain terms. “You may be fat, but you’re no failure. I read the letter you left behind, and the words I read weren’t those of a spoiled child, but those of a remorseful grown man. That’s the main reason I’m here. It’s time to give Earth back her God of Thunder. It’s time to give me back my God of Thunder.”

“I’m nobody’s God of anything,” Thor sniffled. “In my dreams, I keep seeing my parents and Loki die again and again.”

He smiled sweetly as his again filled with tears. He had forgotten she was always in his corner, much along the lines of Tony Stark. He remembered her anger toward the Avengers for his sake when he thought she had no need. Now, here he was--a mess of a man who feared failure.

“I know how to clean up messes, including messes that walk on two feet,” she said. “When was the last time you had a good bath?”

The big Asgardian shrugged. He had gotten used to his own smell during the time he was in exile. He didn’t think he stunk, but it was obvious she did. She didn’t mean it to be unkind, but showing that she cared a lot for him. He looked at her and shook his shaggy head. She stroked his temple.

“That’s okay. It’s all fine. Now, I’ve brought some nice clean clothes for you,” she said. “Now, let’s get you naked.”

Mischief now twinkled in the ice-blue eyes. Didn’t Viking men have other things to think about besides sex? Oh, yeah, there was also that little thing called war. She paled a little when she saw his partial erection. He stepped into the tub and settled in the water with a contented sigh. She slathered a washcloth with soap and started scrubbing his broad back.

“Ahhh!” he groaned. “Gods, this  feels good!”

“Okay, Thor, give me your arse!” she chirped.

He rose on all fours and broke wind. She opened the window to air out the room. When she  came back, she found him lying on his back; his huge stomach exposed to the air. She handed him the soap and washcloth and told him  to wash his front. He pouted a little but obliged. Again, she saw his cock rising for the simple reasons that the water was still warm, and he was scrubbing it. She pronounced him clean and  told him to get out of the tub. She closed the window and told him to stay put as she went to get the shampoo she had also brought with her. He had pulled the plug out of the tub and was drying himself. She turned on the shower; this time to wash his hair. She knew he didn’t like people touching it, but she needed to get it clean; he needed to have it clean. She handed him the bottle and told him to wash it.

In his room, she looked at the mattress on the  floor and had a pretty good idea as to why it was there. He was soon with her, and she showed him what she had brought. She had T-shirts big enough to cover his tummy and buttonless trousers that would stretch and caress his stomach. A bear hug awarded her efforts. His old clothes were still wearable but needed washing something fierce. He dried his hair with the towel than let it dry naturally. She next turned to the mattress and considered clean sheets for it. The ones it had on now, well, words couldn’t describe the shape they were in. One thing for sure was that they needed to be changed and, knowing Thor’s penchant to go into town for his meals, she would check out the town to see if  there were any linen shops. His room seemed big enough for two people, so she’d build a nest for herself close enough to Thor so he could reach out and touch her during the night. He wouldn’t be alone when he had one of his nightmares again. She suspected that he had no one to comfort him in the past, but he had someone now.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Thor said. “You look tired, Rossi.”

“I feel as though I’ve been ridden hard and put up wet,” she said as she tried to stifle a yawn.

“Would I be pushing it if I asked you if you’d like to have a snooze with me?” Thor asked.

She smiled as thoughts of laying her head down on  that great belly for use as a pillow danced in her head.

“No, I don’t think you’d be pushing it,” she replied as she tried to stifle another yawn.

She flopped down on  the mattress and watched as the great deity take off his clothes. He soon stood naked before her; his great belly and erection proudly showing  themselves.

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“WAIT...AM I HEARING YOU RIGHT? YOU NEED HIS HELP? AFTER CASTING HIM ASIDE LIKE AN OLD WHEN HE WAS GOING THROUGH HIS OWN PERSONAL HELL, YOU NEED HIS HELP? FIVE YEARS AGO, NOT A DAMN ONE OF YOU CAME OUT OF YOUR OWN PITY PARTIES TO SHOW HIM ANY SUPPORT OR FRIENDSHIP OR GIVE HIM A SHOULDER TO CRY ON. YOU CALL YOURSELVES HIS FRIENDS, BUT REAL  FRIENDS DON’T ACT LIKE YOU ALL DID. HE ONLY SHOVED ME AWAY BECAUSE HE THOUGHT I WAS ONE THE SAME WAVELENGTH YOU GUYS WERE THEN ON. YOU TREATED HIM LIKE YOUR GOLDEN SLAVE OR YOUR GOLDEN LACKEY. THOR SAID IT BEST HIMSELF WHEN HE SAID: ‘NOTHING LASTS FOREVER, NOT EVEN FRIENDSHIP. NOTHING.’ WELL, HE CERTAINLY HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD WITH THAT ONE, IF YOU WERE EVER FRIENDS AT ALL. THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS IN HIS CORNER, BESIDES ME, WAS TONY HERE,” she roared at them. “FRIENDS, MY ASS! IF I LOOKED UP ‘FRIEND’ IN THE DICTIONARY, I WOULDN’T SEE YOUR PICTURES BESIDE IT. YOU’RE JUST COVERING YOUR OWN ASSES BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T WIN YOUR LAST BATTLE WITH THANOS.”

“Rossi, we’re protecting Midgard from him,” Thor tried to tell the irate little woman, but she was having none of it.

“THOR IS THE BEST THING TO HAPPEN TO ME SINCE JT. NOW, YOU WANT TO TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME? WHEN ARE YOU BLOODY LOT GOING TO STOP?” she bellowed; her voice breaking.

She dropped into Thor’s chair. She had had her fill of Stark and his bunch. Cap tried to say something in the Avengers’ defence, but he got one of her deadlier glares. He closed his mouth and stepped back into his spot. He and Thor exchanged looks as she rose from  the chair and left for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Let’s go,” was all Thor could say. He knew trying to  reason with her when she was in this mood was night onto impossible.

“She’ll be okay, Thor,” Tony assured him.

“I’m not so sure, Brother Anthony. The last time she was this angry was five years ago,” Thor said. “I know she misses her husband. Now, she fears losing me. I hope she’s here when I get back.”

The Hulk made an attempt but was warded off. He shrugged his big green shoulders and followed his friends out. Stark thwarted all attempts to reason with the Canadian expat and herded them out the door.

“She won’t listen to any of us, so we might as well go,” he said. “Thor, did she say how long she was married to her last husband?”

“Ten years, I think,” the big Asgardian replied. “She told me he was murdered by a  group of of people call the New York Mafia.”

Stark cringed. That was one group of people with whom no one should mess. The wounds from his death were still fresh, and Thor was there to help her heal.

“All we can do is get you back to her in one piece, Point Break,” he said quietly.

The minute she was gone, she started  to pack. There was a bed and breakfast in town where she could clear her mind and decide on her next moves. Yes, she’d go back to him because she didn’t want to see him drink himself into the ground. He deserved a good long happy life.

Why couldn’t she give that to him? It was for the simple reason that the Avengers kept getting in the way. She could remember when he first came to Midgard as an arrogant spoiled Asgardian prince who thought humans were petty and tiny. Well, a lot of water had gone over the Falls since  then, and the prince change his mind. She and her fellow humans welcomed the deity with open arms once he cut out the arrogance and snobbery. He had certainly mellowed during his time here and she, for one, was glad for the change. She now sat in the diner, picking at her food and wondering about her future.

The memory of what he said about being a good man rather than king made her smile. Thor was the polar opposite of his father--a man who, once during his numerous rages, almost beat the young Thor to death. Thor treated the people of Midgard with love, thoughtfulness--words that never were in Odin’s vocabulary. Thor learned that, if you treat people right, they’d treat you right.

Things his father never learned.

She pushed her plate aside and stared out the window, thinking of what her life would be like without the big Asgardian. God only knew  that she couldn’t compete with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. The only solution was now staring her in  the face, and that was to give Thor over to the Avengers and just walk away. She spent this long without anyone; hell, what’s a little longer?

“G’day!” a voice said, making her jump. “Food’s usually pretty good here.”

“Mmmm...what?” she asked as she came out of her daydream.

“Kip Hemsworth,” the voice continued. “I was wondering if you’re okay. If ya don’t wanna talk, I’ll understand.”

Tears of relief coursed down her cheeks. Who sent this guy? Sure, he was a stranger, but she desperately needed to talk to someone. Besides, weren’t strangers friends one had yet to meet?

“Rossi Sullivan--hi,” she sniffled as she watched her small hand disappear into his giant paw.

“Mind?” he asked as he pointed to the bench opposite her.

“Park it,” was all she said before going silent.

When she got her first good look at him, her jaw dropped because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing--sandy blond hair, blue eyes that looked  right into her soul and, before he sat down, 6′3″ in height. How could three men look so much alike without being related?

“I don’t know where to start,” she said.

“The beginning is always good,” he said.

She sighed as the waitress appeared.

He ordered her a grilled ham and cheese and a cuppa; for himself, steak and eggs and a beer.

She told him everything--how she left North America to become a British citizen and how her husband was murdered by the New York Mafia, cutting her last  ties with that continent.

“Sorry, I must be boring you. Here I am prattling on, and you haven’t gotten a word in edgewise, she said.

 “No worries,” Kip said, taking a sip from his beer. “So, what do you do in London?”

“I brought my mother’s family home, so to speak. I’m half British blood, and I have my British passport. After the 2012 Games, I started the process of becoming a British citizen. I now have a lovely little flat right above Sherlock Holmes and John Watson,” she said. “I have a job with Madame Tussauds Wax Museum.”

Kip just looked at her when she said that. Weren’t Sherlock Holmes and John Watson fictional characters? She just smiled and assured him that they were just as real as she and him were. She pulled out her tablet and went to Tumblr. There was an article about her solving the Regents Park Zoo murders and putting a huge dent in Holmes’ ego. She also dented his ego when she found the person causing all the trouble with the weather on the Westminster tube. She pulled up a picture of Holmes and Watson and showed it to him. Kip just staring at it, trying to wrap his head around the idea that pair was real.

“So, how long were you and JT married?” Kip asked before taking another bite of steak.

“”We were married fifteen years...,” he voice trailed off and she bowed her head.

‘Hemsworth, you idiot!’ Kip berated himself as he pulled her close. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispered as he pulled her close.

“It’s okay, Kip. I was just thinking about our life together, and how we were hoping to grow old together.”

“I’ll soon have to go back to Stralia, but how about we travel together to England? I can stay for a few days, and you can show me London and, maybe someday, you can come and see me?” Kip offered cheerfully.

“I’d like that, “ she murmured as she smiled at him through her tears. “So what do you do besides go searching for the perfect wave?”

“I’m a sheep rancher in the Outback,” he replied as he finished the last bit of his steak and eggs. “I’ve got one of the bigger stations.”

“You don’t run it by yourself?” she asked as she swallowed her last bit of tea.

“Nope! It’s usually just Liam and I. Liam’s my youngest brother,” Kip said.

She went white. What were the odds of two men having a brother named Liam?

All Kip knew about Chris was that he was an actor and he played a god.

Kip was constantly smiling, bless his Aussie heart. He was smiling now, and she smiled back.

“Are you alright, Rossi?” he asked now.

She nodded. Sure, she was a bit weary, but fine.

“I was thinking of Thor,” she said.

“Ah, your fella. Now, the truth comes out!” Kip teased.

“May I bring your check?” a voice cut into the conversation.

“I guess there’s no time like the present,” she said before turning the tablet on again.

She tapped the Tumblr icon and found a picture of Chris as he look in Thor: The Dark World. She swallowed once and showed the picture to Kip. Beer flew everywhere, and the rancher started coughing. She put the tablet down and slapped him between  the shoulders. He held his hands up in an attempt to get her to stop. He stared at the picture, speechless, for the next few minutes.

‘I’ve come this far. I might as well go all the way,’ she thought.

She found a picture of Chris being his charming goofy Aussie self at a convention.

“Um...Kip?” she said.

“Yeah?” he said. “What have you got there?”

She handed him the tablet, and the poor man went as white as a sheet of paper. She was beginning to suspect that this was the first time he ever slapped eyes on Chris. They headed for the airport. Purchasing their tickets for Heathrow and checking their suitcases, they headed for the lounge to await their flight. She glanced at him and felt the tears come again.

“So you’re leaving him?” Kip asked.

“I’m not leaving him. I’m giving him breathing space so he can get his priorities in order. I left him a letter stating as such because I can’t compete with the Avengers--you know, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. I’d call them Earth’s Mightiest Homewreckers, but that’s just me. All Tony Stark has to do is snap his fingers, and Thor gallops off like some obedient Golden Retriever. I’ve had it with Tony Stark and his bunch. Five years ago, his so-called friends, the Avengers, never lent him a shoulder to cry on or talk to him about the hell he was going through. That hell was the death of his parents and his brother, Loki, plus his feelings of failure. I called the Avengers out on the carpet, but he went anyway...I’m sorry!”

“Come here, Rossi,” Kip said.

“I’m sorry for dumping this all on you,” she said as she fell into his embrace. 

“It’s alright. I asked,” he said as he held her.

She pulled some Kleenexes from pocket as she smiled moistly at him.

He was one of the good ones, this lad.

When she finally got her act together, he held her out at arms’ length.

“Still have feelings for him?” he asked.

“Yeah. There’s just no getting over Thor Odinson,” she said.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Going Through Motions{7}

Title: Going Through Motions {7}***

Steve Rogers X Reader OFC Korral “Korri” Evans

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, NSFW

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: You and Steve had a hot, passionate, and wild romance seven years ago when you worked with the Avengers. It was the best year of your life; you’d never felt the things you’d felt in all your life. Then out of nowhere, Steve just ended things—in a letter. A heartbreaking letter, then the world deemed him a criminal, and he disappeared. Now, you’ve moved on and have gotten engaged to rich man Marc Spector. Tony brings you back to work with the newly rebuilt Avengers that is still led by Captain America who is definitely done asking for permission and not looking for forgiveness. Or is he?

Note: So, for this fic, we are going to alter the MCU timeline a bit. This takes place after Civil War, but Infinity War has not happened yet. Steve is off the grid for seven years before he comes back. {I know that’s a long time, but let me rock please} Also, I’m going to be introing/adding in Moon Knight (Marc Spector) in just because I feel like it and I want to start exploring other Marvel characters and of course I will twist him to serve my purposes.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread

~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Korral-

  “It’s hyrolomed.” Everyone in the room looked at one another as you began your brief.

   “Hydrolomed? The virus we found in Zemo’s lab?” You nodded. “One in the same.”

   “What would she want with it?” You got up and walked to the cannister and stood behind it taking care not to touch it. while in the cannister, it was harmless but you didn’t want to risk it. This stuff was nasty.

   “According to Zemo’s research, this is a deadly geno modified virus he weaponized that has the potential to be a catastrophic world ender. His notes say he never got to the testing stages in anything but primates in an enclosed environment. Subject A became a carrier but not infected until one hundred and forty-four hours, otherwise six days. After six days subject A began became a host carrier. Upon skin contact, the virus was transmitted. The virus spread within the primates to full infection within hours. Subject A died on day seven, and the others seven days from their infection.”

   The room was quiet as everyone absorbed what you’d just said. “It’s a good thing we got it back before she got away with it,” Marc said.

 “Makes me angry she got away,” Wanda expressed. “Well that doesn’t matter, thanks to the shackles it was easy to get some blood, and we ran it through every database. We now know who she is,” Tony informed. Images filled the screens.

   “Her name is Tilda Johnson, aka Nightshade. She used to be a genius scientist but has always had a quite iffy relationship with right and wrong. She created a werewolf formula, her nifty little melt through you gloves among other little toxins. She went straight for a little while before going back to her old ways. Now she’s a mercenary for hire.”

   “Who hired her? Steve’s voice spoke up. You fought to remain aloof. “That we still don’t know.”

   Tony walked toward you and took the tablet. “We have to find out who she works for before she comes back with some friends to try to get this again. I’ve told Ross that I can keep it safer than they ever could so it will be here, and we will be watching and waiting. They will come.”

  Everyone began filing out the room. Marc walked to you and took your hand. “Are you okay?” You smiled and nodded. “Just tired.” He kissed your cheek, and you tried not to shudder. Since the night with Steve in the shower, it had become increasingly difficult to let Marc touch you. Every time he kissed you, you got flashes of your impromptu tryst when he touched your body you saw Steve’s hands when he took you to bed and rocked between your legs you relived the night with Steve. It was torture. You felt horrible. Marc didn’t deserve what you’d done to him, he was a good man, and he’d been nothing but good to you.

   “I have to fly out to Washington tonight; I have meetings for the next few days. Want to come with me?” You sighed, you wanted to say yes, but you didn’t know if you could keep things straight within yourself. You worried every time thinking you’d let something slip, either calling him Steve’s name when he brought you to your climax or imagine Steve while he was on top of you. You didn’t think you could trust yourself.  “I can’t. Unfortunately, I’m needed here. I wish I could.” Marc nodded and laced his fingers with yours. You stared at your entwined hands. It was strange two months ago all you saw was him. Two months ago you’d resigned yourself to a life with him; he was a good choice. Looking back into his face you forced yourself to not think about the part of you that had always haunted you, the part that hadn’t fully commit.

   “I understand. Promise me you’ll get some rest, and I mean actually get some rest.”  You smiled. “I promise.” Marc kissed you softly then moaned. “I’m going to miss you.” His words only made you feel worse.

   You were a cheating, lying slut. You’d betrayed him in the worst possible way, and you’d done it with him. In the early stages of your relationship, Marc had asked you about your last relationship. You hadn’t told him it was with Captain America himself. Instead, you gave him the gist of things and eluded it ended amicably. What a crock of shit. It hadn’t ended amicably. You’d cried, and hurt for months, years. Hell, when you met Marc, you were still hurting, and perhaps he helped distract you from that hurt, but before you moved in together you’d often wake from dreams with tears streaming down your face.

   “Walk me down?” You nodded and left your hand in his as you walked out of the room. As the elevator took its trip down to the lobby you saw Steve going down. You watched his stride, even that had changed, but only slightly. He was slightly bow-legged, and every step he took his toes pointed to the side, it was the sexiest thing. You felt your stomach flutter, and you took a breath trying to calm your rising anxieties. “Does that sound good?” Your head snapped to Marc. You hadn’t heard a thing he said. “Uh, let’s see, yeah.” He walked out before you and took your hand as you walked out the front door. Steve stopped at the glass but didn’t walk outside. “Take it easy, Captain,” Marc said with a smile. Steve nodded once but kept the sternness in his jaw and features.

   Once outside, Marc turned to you, clasped his hands on your cheeks and kissed you, pulling you against his body. You felt his hand snake down to your backside before he squeezed. Your moan caught you off guard and just as his hand did. Marc quickly took control and intensified the kiss. He moaned on your lips; he held you so tightly. You knew Steve was standing there most likely watching. Pulling your lips from his you took a breath. “Oh my god, Marc--.” He smiled and kissed you again then dropped his lips to your neck, the same spot Steve kissed.  “I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you. I literally want to sneak you back inside.” He lifted your leg and wrapped it around his back. You moaned and allowed him to kiss you once more before he pulled back.

   “Can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you. you’re amazing.” You felt like a world-class asshole, but you had to keep yourself in check. His car pulled up, and he kissed you again, then your forehead. “Five days,” Marc said. You nodded. “Five days, be safe.” Marc smiled and got into the car. As he drove off you watched his car disappear. You knew you should go back inside, but you knew the minute you turned around he would be right there. You couldn’t do this right now. You walked back inside and avoided his eyes like the plague.

   “Korral.” Ignoring him, you scurried to the elevator and pressed the call button. As if sensing the need to fuck with you, it took forever. “Come on!” Somehow you knew he was coming closer. “Korral.” Finally, the elevator doors opened, and you rushed onto it. Just when you thought you were home free, Steve stepped onto the elevator just as the doors closed, sealing your fate. “Really, so you ignore and avoid me for a week then you try to run. Korri.” Steve took a step to you, and you backed up. “Steve, stop.” As if hitting a glass wall, he automatically stopped and dropped his hands to his side. “Let’s talk.” You shook your head and stared at the indicator watching the numbers increase. “There is nothing to talk about.” Taking another step to you, you staggered to the other side of the elevator. You didn’t trust yourself being in such close proximity to him. You could smell him, and just that was wreaking havoc on your emotions.

   You’d thought you were over all of this. You thought you’d move on and that you were way past this being possible. Somehow you thought that even if he did come home that you’d be able to look at him and feel nothing, speak to him and not remember anything and be close to him and remain in control. What a big fucking joke, you thought. That lasted literally weeks, weeks and you’d busted it down already. “What do you mean there’s nothing to talk about? We have a lot to talk about. Let me explain. We have to talk about that--.” You cleared your throat in an obnoxious way, intentionally overriding his voice. “Shh, be quiet. We can’t talk about this here. Are you kidding!”

  Steve took a deep breath and leaned his back against the glass of the elevator. “We have to talk though Korri.” Every time he said your name, it gave you chills and flashbacks of all the times he’d said it. Every intimate moment sped through your mind, and with it came the feelings. The elevator doors opened, and you wasted no time rushing off it and down the hall. When you turned the corner, you looked back and saw him glaring at you. You had no idea what you were going to do.

   That night as you laid in your bed staring at the ceiling, you had no idea why you didn’t just go back to the city. No matter what Tony said about it being smarter for everyone to stay at the compound in case of an attack because the cannister was there. His priority was the virus canister. You knew that was the only priority, but you were going through a crisis. You couldn’t sleep, truth be told you were afraid to sleep, afraid you’d have salacious dreams. The catch was you didn’t know who you’d dream about or who you wanted to dream about.

   Everyone had dinner together, everyone but you. You took your food back to your office and tried to get some work done. You didn’t know if anyone suspected anything and part of you didn’t care. After you ate you took a turn in the gym hoping to burn off the anxious energy that was bouncing around in your body. After nearly two hours of going to the max, you were still wired. You then stared at your shower for almost thirty minutes before you swallowed the nerves and used it. It was the quickest shower of your life. Now you were still awake at nearly two in the morning.

   Groaning you sat up and stared out the window. You took up your robe and wrapped it around yourself as you walked to your balcony. The property around the compound was private and quiet and you loved the contrast to the noisy city. Usually, when you slept here you got the best sleep of your life, but tonight you were shit out of luck.

   “What the hell did you do Korral?” You sat there quietly for several long minutes just enjoying the sound of nature and the silence of the night. Though it was dead silent, you almost missed the barely-there knock at your door. Piquing your ears, you listened closer and there it was again, tap-tap, pause, tap-tap-tap-tap. Your breath caught, you knew this knock, you’d heard it every night for a year. Frozen still you sat there just staring at the door, again the knock came. tap--tap, pause, tap-tap-tap-tap. Slowly you walked into the room and across to the door. You didn’t speak; you just listened pressing your ear to the cold door. You couldn’t deny the part of yourself that wanted to fling open the door. Nor could you ignore the part of you that wanted to throw yourself in his arms, but what came next. There was no going back. It was impossible, too much time had passed, too much had happened. He knocked again this time the softest of all; tap--tap, pause, tap-tap-tap-tap. You could hear the hesitation in it, normally he came off smug so self-assured but this knock screamed vulnerability.

   Your hands moved of their own accord, turning the knob and opening the door. As you did you saw him taking steps away from your door back down the hall. Steve paused and glanced over his shoulder back to you. Leaning your head against the jamb you felt the colossal mistake you were making, but it was as if you were watching a movie play out completely unable to push stop. Shit, you didn’t know if you even really wanted to. Neither of you spoke, you just stared. The war within you raged on, and he waited. After a few minutes, you took a few steps back into your room leaving the door open. Steve slowly walked to you until he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

   All of a sudden, it was the two of you alone in the room you’d practically lived in together, and it felt entirely too small. Pressing your back to the cool glass doors of your balcony you watched him as he walked toward the bookshelf. He perused the books there absentmindedly, then turned to lean against it and again stared at you. The only light in the room was that of the glow of the moon. Your eyes roamed over his figure, his white men’s tank that showcased his incredible shoulders and arms, the lite colored sweatpants that hugged his powerful thighs and teased his thick manhood straining and begging for your attention, then down to his bare feet. God, you couldn’t believe you were wet. With that thought, Steve slowly stalked toward you; every step he took you only got wetter. You wanted him. You should have felt shame, but you couldn’t muster it.

   Once he stopped in front of you, his eyes scanned every detail of your face before they dropped to the gape of your robe and down your body. Hesitantly, he took the final steps closing the space between your bodies; his hand gripped your hip pulling you into his body. Releasing a breathy gasp, you instinctively grabbed his triceps. Steve softly touched your cheek tipping your chin higher, so you looked into his eyes. You saw pain, sadness, shame and something else that you didn’t dare think about. “I’m sorry,” Steve began. Shaking your head, you clasped your hand over his mouth to silence him.

   “Don’t—just don’t say them.” He kissed your palm and moved his head to trail kisses around your wrist then over each finger. “Then what do you want me to say Korri?” You watched his lips move across your hand then grazed your fingers against his beard covered jaw. It was soft and full and absolutely sexy. Your fingers led to his lips and traced them, remembering the feel of them. “Nothing, don’t say anything.” You felt his hand trail from your hip, over your stomach to the knot of the robe. Your breath caught, and you should have felt panic, but you didn’t. His hand paused there as his eyes searched yours. You should have pulled away and told him to get out, and you should have said no this is wrong, but you didn’t.

   Steve loosened the knot and slid his hand inside the material to graze the back of his hand against the skin of your hip. You clenched your bottom lip between your teeth and felt the goosebumps prickle your skin. He pushed the robe aside, revealing you to his eyes. Steve groaned as his greedy eyes drank every inch of you up. You always loved the way he looked at you, always loved the way your belly always did somersaults whenever he was close. Now it felt like torture, the best torture, torture that felt good. “Korri you are so beautiful. There was not a day that went by that I didn’t dream of touching you, of being here like this with you.” They sounded like beautiful lies, the lies of a man who broke your heart, lies of a man your body still yearned for. Closing your eyes for a moment you shook off his empty words, words he couldn’t mean, words you wanted to believe more than anything. “Korri--.” You slapped your hand over his mouth again, this time more forcefully. “No talking.” His eyes darkened, and before you knew it his lips were against yours. God, a simple kiss should not elicit so much desire in you, especially a kiss from a man who was not your fiancée.

   Steve moaned on you and pressed your back more forcefully into the glass door. You could feel his hardness pressing against your stomach. Steve dipped down, grabbed your thigh, and lifted you into his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you sunk your fingers into his hair and moaned while he expertly kissed you. You’d been his first all those years ago. In the 40s when he began his journey as Captain America he’d been a scrawny thing, one that women quickly looked over then came his deep freeze and reentry into a modern world. At the time you couldn’t believe he’d never had the opportunity. He’d told you he had plenty of opportunities but didn’t want to, he didn’t see a need, until you.

   Seven years later, he was not an amateur. He kissed like a man; held you like a man. When his lips left yours to trail to your neck your desires betrayed you in the sign of an audible moan. Your head swung back granting him more access to your neck, access to fully take advantage of by sinking his teeth into the nape of your neck. The pressure was everything you needed, but you needed more. Rocking against him for any friction Chris lifted you high then sucked your nipple into his mouth. “Fuck!” as he licked, sucked and flicked the hardened peak his body held you firmly against the glass surface while his free hand kneaded your other breast. When he squeezed your flesh tightly your groan echoed in the room.

   Soon his head was traveling lower while he lifted you higher. Before you knew what was happening, Steve’s head was between your legs with you hoisted several feet into the air. He held you where the back of your thigh met your ass and spread your legs wider so he could delve into your folds with more freedom. “Aaah!” His mouth against your sex felt so good—too good. You planted your heels onto his shoulders and began bucking your hips, riding his face. Steve moaned and picked up the speed and urgency of his mouth. There was no method to his claiming of you, no sequence, no repetition that you could get used to so you’d expect, it was pure chaos and desperation and that in itself was a method, it was a technique one that drove you crazy in a matter of minutes. Gripping his head more tightly you pressed his head onto your sex and panted while your orgasm ripped through you. “Aaaa, yes, yes, Steve!”

   The sound that came from his mouth was one you’d never heard before, one that sounded more animal than man. He walked to the bed and dropped you onto it before he hovered over your body kissing you, allowing you to taste yourself. You moaned into his mouth and clawed at the shirt across his back. Without pulling his lips from yours, Steve peeled his shirt over his head. Your feet anxiously pushed at the waistband of his sweats as your fingers relished the feel of his toned back. You didn’t even realize when he’d peeled off the material until you felt his hardened flesh bob against your thigh. Your core clenched already anxious to feel him. Steve finally tore his lips from yours then thrust into you in one full, forceful snap of his hips. You released a strangled gasp arching your back off the bed completely as your body convulsed and clenched around him.

   He didn’t thrust again; he rotated his hips so his thick, member touched every wall inside you. When he grazed the tight bundle of nerves within you, your nails found sunk into his back. Steve hissed then slammed into you again. “Holy Shit!” The way he took you then was gentle but passionate, he always seemed in control, but now there was no gentleness or hesitation. The way he claimed control of your body spoke of experience, authority, and power. Every time his hips stroked forward the fire in you blazed hotter and hotter until you felt the burn all over your body. Steve grunted and moaned not caring who heard, shit you didn’t care either. Touching his bearded cheek again your eyes met. He kissed the palm of your hand again before he pushed your arms back to the bed, holding them down by the wrist with one of his large hands. Hoisting your backside off the bed with the other, he held you suspended in the air and drilled into you.

   You screamed at the new angle, unable to control your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his moans became gruffer as you lied there and took all of him. Steve let your wrist go and held on to your hips as he directed you onto his need. “Aaah, Korri!” Hearing your name on his lips brought out a fresh wave of desire. You gripped him behind his neck and used it as leverage to pull your body from the bed locking your legs around his back. Steve groaned and sunk back remaining on his knees. You straddled him and took control, rocking your hips back and forth then into half circles. Every rotation your hips made he squeezed tighter as if trying to hold you in place.

   When you began bouncing on his lap, you started slow, but after a few moments, Steve was thrusting his hips up meeting each of your dips. After the first few connections, you allowed yourself to fully feel your need for him, allowed yourself to fully be present and when you gave yourself that permission your body rewarded you. Every time your breasts bounced Steve bit down onto your nipple then released it and every time he released it he thrust harder into your heat. In a matter of minutes, you were a panting, moaning and shaking mess. “Look at me, Korri.” It wasn’t a request; it was an order spoken in the voice of Captain America. Your eyes peered into his, and your heart lurched. His mouth was open, and you could hear the shallow pants escaping him.

   Steve squeezed your waist, slowing your circling hips to a near tortoise pace. He grounded his hips along with yours. Your body wanted more, but when you tried to speed up his easily stopped you with his strength. Every second you stared into his eyes the closer and closer you came to saying something you knew you’d regret. He lifted you to a few inches off his lap then rose to his knees and plowed into you with a quickness that pulled another orgasm from you. You screeched with the force of the pleasure whipping through you as Steve’s hips show you just how your body needed to be claimed, how it has always should have been claimed. When he grunted louder you knew he’d reached his point of no return. You felt his release coat your walls, and even that felt incredible. You held on to his body afraid if you let go he’d disappear, and you’d wake up to find it was a dream, and he was gone. Slowly your back came down onto the mattress, but you didn’t release him. Steve kissed your ear, along your jaw, your cheek, neck, and shoulders and held just as tightly to you.

   “Korri, I’m sorry.”

   With those words, reality came crashing down on you once again. It brought everything back including the pain. You groaned and untangled your fingers from his hair and put your hand between your bodies and began pushing him away. Steve didn’t budge, so you pushed more forcefully. “Stop, get off.” He didn’t, and it made you angrier, making you rebel more. No matter how hard you pushed him or tried to separate yourself from him he wouldn’t move, he just held you closer. “Stop darlin’; just stop. Let me explain.” There was nothing to explain, nothing to talk about. You pushed him again and grunted when he didn’t move back. “Steve, get off me! I don’t want to listen. I don’t need your explanations or any more of your lies. Just get off of me!”

   “I did lie to you. I told you the worst lie I’ve ever told, and I am so sorry darlin.” You stopped resisting and lied still. “What? What’re you talking about!?” You felt wetness against your neck and heard him sniffle. Was he crying? You pushed at his body again, and he pulled back. You felt a drop land on your breast—a tear. Steve pulled away from you and slid to the foot of the bed before he rubbed his face, then raked his fingers through his hair to the back of his neck. In the moonlit room, you saw a haunted look on his face. Curiosity filled you. What was he talking about? Why was he crying? Was he about to tell you that your entire relationship was a lie? Was he about to tell you once and for all he’d lied about loving you?

  “What’re you talking about Steve?” His eyes landed on you, and he looked as if he were struggling. He bolted from the bed and paced the space at the foot of your bed. Your eyes couldn’t help but roam his perfect, lean body. The thought of the power he held in him was enough to make you want him again. You groaned and grabbed the sheet beside you to cover yourself. When you looked back to him he was engulfed in darkness. “I lied to you.” rolling your eyes you sighed out. “No shit, you lied to me for an entire year every time you told me you loved me!”

   Steve lunged toward the foot of the bed out of the darkness into the light of the moon. “I have never lied about that, Korri!” The intensity in his eyes was bright; he sauntered over to you and sat before you filling his palm with your cheek. “That is the one thing I meant with everything in me.” his forehead pressed to yours and then his nose nuzzled yours before his lips claimed yours in another scorching kiss. The passion you felt clouded your head and made you forget for a few moments. You pulled away. “You’re a liar! Your letter said--.” He kissed you again. “Lies Korri. How could they have been anything but. You can’t fake what we have; you can’t fake any of this. I loved you more than I’ve ever loved anything.”

   Your head was spinning. You didn’t know if you could believe him, didn’t understand at all. “You said you didn’t love me; you said it had always been Peggy.” You didn’t realize you were crying until his thumbs wiped at your cheeks. “No. I was so obsessed with her then. I loved her, yes, but Korri with you I’ve never loved like this.” Gaping at him you couldn’t believe your ears. Nothing made sense.  

   “You’re lying! God, stop lying, Steve!” Pushing him away, you moved from him scurrying to the opposite side of the bed. Once there you stood and glared at him. “I’m not lying darlin’. That letter was bullshit.” Your jaw dropped, and so did a new wave of tears. He made up his face and tried to cross over to you, but you evaded him and rushed to the bookshelf. “What does that mean? What the fuck does that mean!?”

   “I had to write it Korri. I knew that if I left and you knew I didn’t want to, and that I would love you for the rest of my life you’d have followed me. You would have dropped everything and gone with me. You would have lived the life I lived with the danger, the blood, the pain, the darkness. I knew you’d never accept anything else.” Your heart froze as a plethora of thoughts raced through your mind. You remained silent for longer than you intended. “What’re you saying, Steve?”

   He raked his fingers through his hair again and approached you slowly and cautiously like you were a skittish gazelle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it meant nothing. I didn’t feel that way. None of it was true.” Your breath hitched again, and your heart sank. Try as you did you couldn’t catch a breath. All that kept coming to your mind was that he lied, he lied to you though he swore he never would. Steve touched your hand softly. You swatted it away and moved again.

   “You lied to me? You fucking lied to me, Steve? How—how could—do you know what—oh my god! You son of a bitch!” Again, he tried to touch you and yet again you hit his hand away. “What the fuck Steve! You didn’t know that. You didn’t know what I would have done!” Turning your back to him you looked out the door to the trees. “Come on Korri, I know. You know. What we felt then—there was no walking away, there was no way.” Lashing out, you turned to him and pushed him back with all the rage bubbling in you. “Yet you walked away and never looked back! You did that shit, Steve! God!” You didn’t know what to think you could barely breathe. The last seven years of your life was built on a lie. Everything that happened was because of him and his letter, his lies. Your head jumped to Marc, and you looked to the bed you’d just willingly given yourself in, to another man.

   “Oh my god, Marc.” You met him heartbroken, you kept him at arm’s length because you were broken. At times you thought you stayed with him because he was safe and because he loved you so much, a love you thought no one had felt for you before. Now standing here everything was being questioned. You got with Marc on a lie. “What about him?” Steve didn’t sound remorseful at all, looking at him you scanned his features. “What? He’s my fiancée, and here I am—oh, god.” You walked away keeping your back to him. “You can’t be serious Korri, not after last week, not after tonight.” You could feel him coming up behind you. He touched your back bringing his hand down to your waist and turned you to face him.

   “Not after what I just said. I love you Korri, I’ve never stopped loving you. I needed to protect you. Being on the run was no life for you; you didn’t deserve that.” Steve pressed his forehead to yours again, crowding you much more than physically. You couldn’t think, all you could do was feel everything he did to you, every effect he had on you. “I’m sorry darlin’.

   You groaned, but his lips swallowed the sound. You kissed him back with just as much heat and need as he kissed you. When his hand snaked down your back to your backside his growing length pressed urgently against you. Steve then bent and lifted you before sliding into your needy canal.

   Reason and thought were gone, you were going with what felt good, what felt right even though it also felt wrong, but it didn’t feel wrong for the reasons it should have. Steve slowly rocked in and out of you creating a delicious friction that stroked the kindles he’d reignited. You held him close and relished in how good he felt, and how good it felt being in his arms after so long. So many nights you’d cried thinking the one man you loved more than air itself didn’t love you, didn’t want you. Now you were faced with the truth, or the truth, according to Steve. He could have been lying yet again. It was clear he was not the same man you knew. He was different.

   The way he controlled your body shook you from your thoughts. He possessively held you and kissed you where he knew you loved. Every rock, moan, grunt, and grind hazed your mind even further and made your body comply with every single command. It had never been like this with Marc. You’d never felt half the things with him that you felt with Steve and that realization shook you.

   Once the heat of the moment passed, the two of you laid entangled across your bed. Steve’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath with a hand possessively draped across your backside. You sat up on him forcing a hiss from him. Avoiding his eyes, you pulled away getting off the bed. “Get out.” You walked toward the bathroom when you heard him mutter your name. “Go. I can’t do this.” Walking away from him you closed the bathroom door fearing this would not be the last time.

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[etherealwaifgoddess]

A Good Night’s Sleep, Pt.1

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has been plagued with nightmares since he left HYDRA and the Avengers all have been trying to help him overcome them. Bucky meets you by chance on a coffee run and finds that the solution he was avoiding might be exactly what he needs.

Warnings/ Content: brief mention of PTSD

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! So this little 3 part series came from an idea that @marinaaniseed had a few weeks ago. I absolutely couldn’t get the idea out of my head and so, while I should have been working on my many WIPs, this little fic was born. Parts two and three are going up immediately after this, it’s all done and I don’t feel like dragging it out. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I have. Especially you @marinaaniseed, thank you so much for the idea!!! XOXO- Ash

A Good Night’s Sleep, Part One

“Come on, Buck.” Steve calls out while banging on Bucky’s door, “You gotta wake up, pal.”

Bucky wakes with a jolt, his body rigid and his throat sore from screaming. He’s panting hard, trying to adjust to the world around him. He pulls himself out of bed on shaky legs, wobbling down the hall to open the door right as Steve goes to knock again. “Sorry. Again.” he rasps. 

“Want to come get a cup of tea with me?” Steve offers with sympathetic eyes.

“Nah, I’m gonna grab a shower. Go back to sleep, Stevie.” 

“You know you can talk to me about it if you want to.” 

“I know. I’ll be okay.” Bucky insists, closing the door to end the discussion. 

Under the burning hot spray of the shower Bucky lets himself breakdown. 

After Wakanda Steve had convinced Tony to let him live at the tower with the rest of the team and everyone had been leery of the former assassin joining their ranks. As they slowly came to know him though, he became a welcome addition to their little family of Avengers. The only issue was the nightmares that woke not only Bucky, but everyone else on their floor. Bucky hadn’t slept through the night since he escaped HYDRA, plagued with visions of the destruction he’d wrought as the Winter Soldier. It was an endless stream of death and terror every night when he closed his eyes. When he was on his own in Romania he’d accepted it as his penance for what he’d done. After Shuri and her team pulled him out of Cryo in Wakanda he hadn’t been hopeful the nightmares were gone along with the trigger words. And he had been right - they persisted. 

Bucky warned Steve when he invited him to live at the tower with the team. He told him he had nightmares and was prone to have low days where he just needed solitude to work through his own mind. Steve had promised he’d have his own living quarters and the team would understand. They all had their demons, afterall. The team was very understanding the first days but after that the concerned glances turned to long, worried looks and the team started speaking up.

Bruce had been the first to speak up, suggesting therapy to help him work through what was causing his nightmares. Bucky went and as much as he liked his therapist, nothing they tried stopped the nightmares. Even the meds blew through his system too fast to be of any use. She did give him some good tips for managing his PTSD and depression during the day though, so Bucky considered it a win and still went to see her once a week. 

Nat gave him a spicy Russian tea she swore would knock him out enough that no dreams would come. Nat was wrong, all Bucky got out of the tea was heartburn. She grumbled something under her breath in Russian that sounded a lot like “cursed’ the next morning over breakfast. 

Steve took him for a long run before bed one night, thinking the endorphin high and exhaustion would help Bucky sleep soundly. It helped Steve sometimes with his own dreams of war. It didn’t help with the nightmares, it only made him more exhausted the next day after getting little sleep. 

Tony offered to get him drunk but it would take entirely too much alcohol to overcome the serum in his veins so he declined the offer. 

Wanda suggested she try popping in his mind while he was having a nightmare to see if she could reshape it and try to correct whatever in his mind was causing him to have the dreams. Bucky threw up at the idea of someone meddling in his mind again.

The care and suggestions from the team were sweet, and Bucky knows they have the best intentions at heart, but it’s all still a little overwhelming. Bucky wants to stop having nightmares, he would do anything to sleep for more than three or four hours a night. A small part of him still thinks it’s punishment from some higher power for everything he’s done, but rationally he understands it’s just his PTSD. 

After his shower, Bucky trudges out to the team kitchen for coffee. If he isn’t going to sleep he might as well start on his caffeine routine. Sam is already in the kitchen whipping up a smoothie for himself while Natasha stares at him over a cup of tea, the human embodiment of heart eyes on her face. 

“Mornin’.” he rumbles as he crosses the kitchen, rummaging for his favorite cup in the dishwasher. 

“Another bad one, huh.” Nat asks, but it really isn’t a question.

“Yeah, sorry.” 

“You’ve got to figure these out, James.” 

“I know it.” 

“I know what you need.” Sam interjects causing both Bucky and Nat to whip around to stare at him. Sam just shrugs, “You need to get laid, man.” 

Bucky chokes on his coffee. “What?” 

“You. Need. To. Get. Laid.” Sam repeats slowly. “Seriously, man. Find yourself a nice girl, or a guy, and get some. You’ll be all happy and cosy and you’ll nod right off. No nightmares if you’re wrapped up in the arms of a good woman, or man.” 

Bucky shakes his head, the last thing he needs is to terrorize some poor person trying to spend the night.

“It’s not a bad idea.” Nat agrees.

“Not happening.” Bucky says with a warning tone. He fills his cup and retreats to his bedroom, unwilling to continue the conversation. Adding another person to his mess of a life is not the solution. 

Sam’s suggestion spreads through the team like wildfire. Everyone seems to have a friend they could set him up with. Tony even hacks into his smartphone and adds apps for Tinder, Grindr, and Match.com. Bucky deletes them quickly before chewing Tony out about privacy rights. It becomes a bit of a running joke within the group and Bucky is less than thrilled about it. Bucky hasn’t had a date since 1941 and he isn’t sure how to navigate dating in the 21st century. He knows the times have changed, people are more free with their sexualities and casual relationships are normal instead of taboo. Eventually, he thinks, eventually he’ll get back out there. But certainly not just for the sake of random sex. 

Bucky has another particularly rough night. One where he doesn’t dare sleep because the second his eyes close the images start up like a motion picture. He’d spends the night alternating between pacing and reading, trying to not be disruptive while everyone else sleeps. Sam and Steve get up for their run just before dawn and find him pacing in the common room. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Steve asks him.

“I will later. Probably.” Bucky grumbles. 

Sam shakes his head, “Let’s go get coffee. You look like hell.”

Bucky can’t argue with that and instead goes to grab his shoes with a nod.

The city is bustling despite the early hour and the line at their favorite coffee shop is almost to the door. It’s worth the wait though and Bucky likes the thrumming energy of the shop, the blur of muted sounds around him oddly comforting. The woman in front of them is fidgeting with her leather bag, it must have something heavy in it the way she keeps adjusting the strap on her shoulder. Bucky tries not to let his gaze linger too long but the way her long hair falls in soft waves all the way down to the small of her back is distracting. The even softer looking rounded curves of her body are even more distracting, he admits to himself. She reminds him of the women in Renaissance paintings, when lush curves were still revered, before these modern stick thin bodies became the ideal. Bucky wishes the Winter Soldier could go back and pay a visit to whoever started the “thigh gap” craze. 

The woman adjusts the leather strap again and a small white card flutters out onto the floor behind her. Bucky reaches down to pick it up, noticing the card has business information on it. Sam and Steve are chatting and distracted when Bucky taps the woman on the shoulder, “I think you dropped your business card.” he says hesitantly. 

You’re cursing yourself for lugging everything along with you in your enormous bag when you feel a tap on your shoulder followed by a warm masculine voice. You absolutely do not have business cards, you’re a freelance writer and market yourself entirely online. It has to be another pick up line, probably from some smarmy Wall Street asshole who wants to slum it with an artsy girl for a change. You’ve been burned by that type enough times and won’t let yourself do it again, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve had a date. “Does that line work a lot for you?” you reply, turning around with an unamused expression. 

Bucky’s face falls, upset he’s offended you when all he was trying to do was return what you’d dropped. “I wasn’t. I don’t. You. Um, you dropped this. It fell out of your bag.” Bucky fumbles for words, blushing brightly and drawing the attention of Sam and Steve who wear twin smirks of amusement watching him flounder. 

Your irritation dissipates when you see the gorgeous, stuttering man in front of you. He’s tall, though not quite as tall as his companions, his dark hair falls around his shoulders in a way that is either true bedhead or carefully crafted styling to mimic it. His grey blue eyes are wide and honest, clearly not some smarmy pick up artist like you’d assumed. He’s wearing a black hoodie and dark grey sweatpants so it’s unlikely he was the business card type either. You force yourself to stop ogling the poor man and look at the tiny card in his outstretched hand. Recognizing it immediately, you realize you’re the asshole in this scenario. “Shit, that is mine.” you curse, “I’m so sorry. I don’t usually have business cards but my friend gave me this one yesterday for a new bakery that went in over on 2nd Avenue.” 

Bucky looks at the card for a second before you take it from him. “So you’re not Beth Yardley?” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, wondering if that’s now a ploy to get your name. You really need to be less suspicious but after living in the city for five years you’ve become jaded. He’s cute though. “Nope, Y/N. Nice to meet you…?”

“Bucky.” he offers quickly.

The name doesn’t ring a bell, but he looks familiar for some reason. “Nice you meet you, Bucky. Thanks for saving that card for me. I’m dying to try these cinnamon buns my friend keeps raving about.”

Bucky is smiling again, hoping his face doesn’t betray how eager he is to keep the conversation going. He wasn’t trying to hit on you a few minutes ago but now that he’s seen your face and heard your voice, he sure as hell is. “I love cinnamon buns.” 

You stifle your laugh at the way his cheeks burn bright pink after his admission. He has to be flirting at this point. And he really is cute. Damnit. “We should go try them, then.” you decide, giving him a chance to make a move. 

Bucky feels like he’s swallowed his tongue, “As in, together?” 

“Yeah, sorry if I wasn’t clear. This is me hitting on you now.” you smirk at him as his blush spreads.

Sam is leaning on Steve as they fight for composure, trying not to erupt in laughter and ruin their friends moment. Bucky glares at their backs for a moment before realizing he still hasn’t answered, “Yeah. Yes. Let’s do that.” 

Getting a better look at his companions you realize why he looks so familiar. Of all the people to meet in a coffee shop, you muse. You’re still interested though. “Are you free after this? I was going to get my coffee to go and then head straight there for breakfast.” 

“I’m free. These idiots can find their own way home.” 

“Great. Now, the deciding factor is: icing or no icing? Think hard Bucky, there are two camps of people and if you fall into the wrong one I’ll be forced to shame you for all eternity.” 

Bucky’s eyes widen, worried he’s going to mess up two seconds into what could potentially be a date. “Icing?” he tries.

“Right answer!” you announce him happily. Then, in a conspiratorial tone, you whisper, “It wasn’t really a deal breaker but it’s good to know you’re not some sugar hating monster.” 

Bucky’s grin widens, “No, I have a serious sweet tooth.”

“We’re gonna get along just fine.” you assure him. 

After you order your coffee, quad shot latte with whole milk don’t judge me, and Bucky orders his, the biggest white mocha frapp you have please, you swipe your card before he has a chance to get his wallet out. Bucky balks at you paying but you tell him he can get it next time with a flirty smile that has his brain shutting off, unable to continue complaining. 

Steve and Sam give Bucky small waves and thumbs up, not interfering when Bucky leaves with you. “Your friends seem nice.” you say kindly as you step out onto the busy city sidewalk.

“They’re the best.” Bucky agrees with a nod. 

You make idle chit chat on your way to the bakery, keeping the topics light and superficial. Bucky tells you he grew up in Brooklyn, moved away for a bit, and recently moved to Manhattan with his friends. He seems hesitant as he explains it and you realize he’s trying to not be obvious about who he is. Like you couldn’t have already guessed.

You snort a laugh into your latte. “So what was Brooklyn like in the 30s?” you ask bluntly.

Bucky’s eyes practically bug out of his head, “How did you...?” 

You give him a half smile and shrug, “The hand is a good clue, plus your face was everywhere for a while. It doesn’t help that your best friends are Captain America and the Falcon.” 

Cringing, Bucky figures this will be the end of his almost date. “We don’t have to go get breakfast. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be seen with me.” 

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk, shocked by his response. “Whoa, hold on. I knew who you were before I asked you to join me. I don’t care what other people think about you or your past. You seem like a nice guy and I want to get to know you. The real you.” 

Bucky takes a moment to process your words, finding it hard to believe someone is willing to look beyond his past. He can't find a shred of deceit in your expression though, so he answers your question. “Well, there were less cars and it smelled worse if you can believe it.” 

You huff out a laugh, resuming your walk to the bakery. “I can’t. Tell me more.” 

Bucky tells you stories of the Brooklyn of his youth as you make your way across town. You aren’t in a hurry and Bucky is happy to spend extra time out in the warm sun with a beautiful woman. 

The bakery is a little glass fronted shop sandwiched between two larger brick buildings. You would have walked right past it if you hadn’t been looking for it. Bucky opens the door for you and you smirk, amused by the old fashioned gesture. The scent of vanilla and caramelized sugar hit you the second you’re inside. “Oh my god.” you groan the amazing smell. 

Bucky’s steps falter at the sound you made, trying desperately not to let his mind go where it was headed. “This place smells amazing.” he says, inhaling deeply.

“It had better taste as good as it smells or I’ll riot.” you joke. 

The line is short and before you know it, Bucky is ordering two iced cinnamon buns plus an assortment of other pastries he picks at random out of the display case. 

“Are we feeding an army?” you question as the tray piles higher and higher with plates of baked goods.

“Sorry,” he blushes, handing over his card to the waiting cashier, “Um, my metabolism is pretty high and I have to keep up with it or I get cranky.” 

“Ah, okay. No hangry super soldiers on my watch.” 

Bucky chuckles and nods. 

There’s a sunny spot in the window of the bakery with an unoccupied cafe table, Bucky motions towards it and it’s your turn to nod, following him over to it. The tray takes up most of the table and you perch your coffees on your respective sides, eager to dig into the spread in front of you. You go for the cinnamon bun first, knowing one of them is yours and not wanting to presume you’ll be trying any of the other treats. 

The taste of caramelized sugar and cinnamon explode on your tongue, eliciting yet another moan that makes Bucky fidget in his seat. “Okay, that’s it. I can die happy now.” you announce dramatically. 

Bucky takes a swipe of the icing off the top of his cinnamon bun and his eyes widen slightly. “Oh wow.” he lifts the entire bun up to take a large bite and closes his eyes happily as he chews. “This is incredible.” he says once he’s swallowed, quickly taking another large bite. His cheeks puff out adorably and you grin around your own bite of cinnamon bun. 

“I can’t believe you just bite it like that.” you tease. 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do with it?” 

You demonstrate the way you’ve been peeling yours apart from the outside in, “You uncoil it, like a normal human being.” 

“Takes too long.” Bucky scoffs, “My way is faster.” 

“But then it’s gone. My way you can enjoy it more.” 

“Pfft. I enjoy it plenty, and I would have time for two of them while you eat just one.” 

“Not all of us have super soldier metabolisms, one bun is enough.” 

Bucky looks at the four other plates on the tray and shakes his head, “Then I guess it’s good to be me.” 

You laugh at his antics as he takes another big bite, smiling while his cheeks chipmunk out again. The look you’re giving him almost makes him swallow wrong. He knows this look, he remembers it from the dance hall girls in the 30s. Attraction. Desire. You’re flirting with him in your own, unique, modern way. And Bucky is shocked to realize he’s been flirting back. He didn’t intend to get back out there so soon but here he is, enjoying breakfast with a beautiful woman. He wonders if you’re the type who would appreciate being asked out on a date, or if you’d rather exchange numbers and call him up when the mood strikes. A booty call, Sam had called it. Bucky still doesn’t get how there’s such a big difference between a booty call and a butt dial but thankfully Sam had corrected him when he got the reference wrong. 

Bucky finishes his cinnamon bun and starts in on a vanilla bean scone, enjoying the way the light glaze crackles as it gives way to the soft, buttery dough. You’re still enjoying your bun, about half way through, so Bucky tears the other pointed corner of the scone off and deposits it on your plate. “It’s really good.” he insists, not wanting you to miss out.

You glance from the bite of scone up to Bucky who’s looking at you hesitantly like he’s waiting to see if he’s done something right or wrong. You pop the bite of scone into your mouth, chewing slowly before nodding, “Yeah it is. Thanks.” 

Bucky practically beams. Maybe he can figure out 21st century flirting. He’s not sure if flirting via baked goods is a thing or not, but it absolutely should be. Bucky methodically works through all of the plates on the tray, offering you bits of each different item. You snag two bites of the cream puff but decline when he offers to buy you your own. The conversation shifts to the best meals you’ve had in the city. Food is an easy common ground for you both. You explain to Bucky that the small town you grew up in was pretty limited restaurant-wise and you’ve tried a lot of different places since moving to the city. You’re great in the kitchen but some days, after spending hours alone working at home, you like to get out and around other people for a while. 

“There’s an Italian place, Sapori, near the tower you would love.” Bucky tells you, “I don’t know what the big deal about the place is but Stark always gets reservations when we’re celebrating something. They make everything from scratch and it’s damn good. There’s these little pillowy pasta things. Starts with a g but you don’t pronounce it. I don’t know, but they’re amazing.”

“Gnocchi,” you say, stifling a laugh. 

“Yeah! Those. Best meal I’ve had in the city by far.” 

“That’s only because you haven’t had the food at Xián Tián.” 

“Well, you should let me take you to Sapori and then you’ll understand.” 

“Did you just ask me out?” you raise your eyebrows at him in surprise.

Bucky blushes and nods, suddenly feeling more shy. “Yeah. I did. This is me hitting on you now.” he says, paroting your words from earlier. 

“Well done, Barnes. When are we going?” 

Read part two HERE!

[notaparty-trick]

All Those Senseless Scars - Chapter 1

By @notaparty-trick​ for @asyouleft​

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange​

Rating: T

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, May Parker & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Pepper Potts, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds

Summary: There is a rule to the way Peter lives now. He didn’t know it at first, but he learnt it.

It’s simple.

To earn what he needs to survive, he has to make sacrifices. --- Peter Parker's life is derailed when he's kidnapped and kept in a white-tiled room with nothing: no windows, no cameras, no food, no water, no phone, nobody else. Only his own thoughts keep him from losing his mind. If he asks for anything, he must take punishment. Tony Stark will stop at nothing to bring him home.

Archive Of Our Own link here

There is a rule to the way Peter lives now. He didn’t know it at first, but he learnt it.

It’s simple.

To earn what he needs to survive, he has to make sacrifices.

---

When he wakes up, he knows he’s been out for a long time. There’s a cotton-wool quality to his train of thought.

He’s in a white cell.

And he’s completely naked.

“Oh my God, oh - what the…?” 

He rushes to get up from the floor and cover himself, jamming himself into a corner. “Shit.” 

His heart judders violently in his chest. There’s nothing to see, nothing at all, nothing but the white tiled walls of his prison. No window. No camera. No food, no water, no guards, no clothes, oh God.

What did they do while I was out?

But he isn’t in any pain that he can notice. Even with his enhanced healing, it’s unlikely he was asleep for long enough for complete healing to take place, so he thinks - he thinks - he’s safe in that respect.

Not in any other.

He’d been in the Spider-Man suit when they took him; the fact that his mask is no longer on him means they already know a lot more about him than he’d like.

He’s utterly clueless. He knows nothing; nothing, except that he’s trapped.

“Hello?” he calls tentatively, then desperately. “Hello! Is anyone, is anyone around? Please - I need--”

In under ten seconds, his calls are answered by the clang of the door opening.

Peter faces bad guys on the daily. He slips on his cocky persona like a second skin now after over a year of patrolling Queens. But it’s a whole lot easier when he’s in the suit. Instead, he instinctively huddles away from the four masked figures that storm into his cell.

There’s an overload of adrenaline pulsing through him stirred through with the dregs of sedatives which makes it impossible to think straight. He’s at a loss for quips.

“It’s alright,” issues a voice. Peter can’t tell who’s speaking behind the masks, but the tone is bafflingly soothing. “We’re here to reason with you.”

Peter prepares himself for a lengthy monologue detailing the way in which Spider-Man had wronged them, but it doesn’t arrive. One of the figures simply asks, “What would you like?”

It’s mystifying. Peter stays silent.

“Would you like some clothes?”

“Yes,” Peter can’t help but blurt, despite every ounce of logic he’s ineffectually grappling for like grains of sand, despite his sixth sense that cries out a never-ending chorus of danger danger danger danger.

The group nods in tandem.

And then, in precise, almost mechanical movements, they tear Peter from his corner and drop him so his face hits the floor. Then there are hands all over him, pressing his back and legs and arms to the ground, and he fights them - but finds he can't. His strength is gone.

A slew of panic grips him in its hold so violently that the room twists sickeningly around him.

The floor is freezing against his bare skin. He’s noticing now just how cold the whole room is. 

The hands on him are rough and unsympathetic. But the taser is worse.

Before Peter even has a chance to speak, to protest, it's jammed into his side and activated. Peter's brain whites out instantly with the agony. It's too much. It has his limbs juddering against the floor, his mouth open in a scream he can't even find the wherewithal to let out, a heated pressure in his brain building and building and building upon itself until he’s sure it’s about to shatter his skull, ricocheting off the walls and battering him yet again, more pain, more pain.

There's a second of silent respite. Eerily quiet. He drags in ragged breaths.

Then it begins again.

Peter has no sense of time. It makes the torture feel endless.

After they're finished with him, he doesn't move from the spot where he'd been held down, every fibre of his body reeling, shorting out, fizzling with the aftershocks of the electricity.

"Now you've had your punishment, you can have some clothes. This is how things will work here. Once you have made a sacrifice, we will give you what you ask for."

“What, what are you - what do you want?”

“We want to test you. You have remarkable capabilities. We will discover just how remarkable they are.” 

A pair of boxers is tossed into the cell as the masked group leaves. Peter crawls over to them and pulls them on through a bout of tremors, feeling the sour sting of shame enveloping him.

He knows that this is bad. Worse than bad, it's - a whole host of other words that he can't summon from his frazzled, drugged mind.

His kidnappers don't want money or leverage. They just want to break him.

So he resolves not to let them.

The group enters his box in intervals he presumes are daily - maybe twice a day, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know anything. They ask him politely if he'd like anything, and he doesn't ask for anything. They don't touch him.

Apart from their entry and exit, there's nothing. There's his box and himself. White, silent, tiny. Maybe ten by ten feet. Nothing.

So he fills up the nothing with talking.

"Actinium, aluminum, americium, antimony, argon, arsenic, astatine," he reels off. "Barium, berkelium, beryllium, bismuth, bohrium, boron, bromine."

He knows the elements. They're comforting but don't hold the bittersweetness of memories of before.

"Stay safe, kiddo," Tony called towards Peter as he rushed into the elevator that would take him out of the Tower and home before May could have his ass for being late to dinner.

The last words he'd said to Peter.

He climbs on the walls and ceiling, hammers at every inch of the tiling, bloodies his knuckles doing it, but he's only human now.

"C'mon," he grits, slamming his side into the wall. "Please, c'mon."

It won't give.

He sinks to the floor, still wracked with jitters, and cradles his head in his hands.

"Don't cry, Peter. Gonna use up water. Stop it, stop."

And, after knuckling his eyes until they ache, he manages to stop.

He knows that an inactive person can survive up to a week without water and almost a month without food. Mostly, that’s what he has to worry about, as well as the cold, which isn’t so severe as to give him frostbite but is enough that within his first few hours in captivity he becomes used to the incessant chattering of his jaw and wonders where the aftershocks of the taser end and the shivering begins.

That, and going insane.

“Cadmium, calcium, californium, carbon... cerium, cesium, chlorine... chromium… uh - cobalt. Cobalt. Copernicium. Copper. Curium.”

Peter likes to talk. He’ll talk whether there are people to listen to him or not, but he’ll admit that he prefers getting to talk to other people. He starts to miss it like hell, actually.

“You know what I should’ve done?” he says aloud, grinning, “I, I really should’ve brought my Chemistry homework with me. I’m so behind. And I’m supposed to be, like, the big science guy, right?”

Flopping to the floor, no longer noticing the coldness of it, he lies limply there for a moment, trying to wrangle his thoughts. “Or I could’ve just done it when I was supposed to. Would’ve cut into my patrol time, though, so, um - hm. Ugh, indecisive.” Affecting the upright demeanour of Captain America in his PSA videos, he crosses his arms: “Choose a thing, Mr. Parker.” 

He laughs at himself, but it comes out wrong. It sounds too loud, too close to a sob.

“Choice is great, isn’t it?” he muses, watching the white ceiling. “One day, when I - yeah. The next thing I choose, it’d better be something awesome. Let’s make a deal. Yeah, okay, sure. The next thing, the next thing I choose to do is gonna be - monumental. Nice word. You could fool people into thinking you, thinking you take English. Eh, who am I kidding? I’m not an English kid. Look at me.”

He’s sobered by his own words.

When he grows tired, he sleeps on the ceiling. He doesn’t have a bed, and it feels just a little safer up there.

There are a lot of things he doesn’t have. His phone is nowhere to be seen. No shower or sink. No toilet. No clothes but his boxers. No mirror. No toothpaste. No friends.

The low-grade fuzziness of his brain doesn’t abate with time although he isn’t injected with anything else and doesn’t eat or drink, which leads him to believe the drugs are being circulated in the air of his cell. It would explain the masks, too.

The guys who took him really have it down to a tee. It’s terrifying.

And it wears down on him.

Thirst is an awful thing. It drags greedy claws down his parched tongue, reminding him every minute of the dryness of his throat. From his chapped lips to the very depths of his stomach there festers a growing sickness, a sensation of shriveling from the inside out until his skin begins to split and talking becomes painful. He does it anyway, clings to his own words because they’re real and solid and won’t jump out and scare him like the nightmares that begin to haunt him even while he’s awake.

On what he hopes is the third night after he woke up in his box, he wakes with a jolt from a dream of a thousand faceless beasts tearing away at him and falls from the ceiling. The moment he tries to get back up, he passes out.

The hunger begins to plague him too, gnawing at his muscles and weakening them. Standing is effortful. It becomes more and more tempting to ask for something as the days creep by and Peter feels himself falling apart.

“Palladium, phosphorus, platinum. P… Polonium? No. Uh. P-L. P-L… plutonium. Polonium. Potassium, protactinium, praseodymium - I mean, praseodymium, protactinium… you know what, shit. I don’t care. Don’t care about the elements--”

Imagining a telephone is sitting on the floor beside him, one of those old-fashioned plastic ones with a curly cord, he sticks his fingers against the side of his head in the universal position to indicate holding a phone and dials a number in his head.

“Hi, May,” he rasps. “Don’t come over, I’ve gotta clean up a bit first. Yeah.” He chuckles. 

If he listens hard enough, he can pick out an amused reply. 

“Are you good? I’m good. You know what you could do, though? Bring some paint. Or some colourful furniture. Anything but white. It’s boring as heck.”

He squeezes his eyes shut against a thundering headache, feeling the skin around his eyes cracking, his heart fluttering wildly, scalpels of hunger piercing his sides, his thoughts becoming formless, untamable things.

“May?” he falters. “Can you tell Mister Stark to come and get me, please? I don’t wanna… what am I supposed to do?”

The group enters on the fifth day. Peter is lying on the floor where he’s been for an unfathomable period of time.

“Would you like anything?” asks one of the masked people.

“Water,” he whispers. “Please. Water.”

He braces himself for the taser this time, but it’s a boot that meets his side instead. Another. A flurry. A stampede.

You get beaten up all the time on patrol. But it’s different when it’s just him, weak, pathetic, unable to stand, half-naked, against these four figures that become tyrannical gods to him as they hold him in the air by his hair, his neck, and beat him bloody.

Peter can do nothing to shield himself from the blows - and moreover, if he does it will jeopardize his chance of getting the water he needs so badly. So, swallowing back a rush of shame, he just takes it.

He can’t help the noises that escape him, however: the grunts as boots connect with his stomach, the whimpers at hands yanking at his hair, the groans as fists clad in brass knuckles meet his face over and over and over again. Blood pours from his nose, trickles from cuts across his cheekbones, temples, eyebrows. He feels a rib snap.

A water bottle is placed by the door as the group leaves. There are maybe 300 millilitres inside.

Peter lays on the floor and watches his blood pool slowly on the pristine tiles.

After twenty agonising seconds of dragging himself across the floor, he reaches the bottle, fumbling desperately to unscrew the cap, and takes a greedy swig of the liquid, at first moaning in relief at the way it gushes down his throat, then regretting his haste as he retches it right back up.

“Crap, Peter,” he mumbles to himself, arms trembling in their effort to hold him off the now-slippery floor. “Stupid. God. Shit. Stop swearing.”

Although his every instinct screams for him to down the water, he forces himself to take small sips. When there’s about half left, he pulls the bottle away and reluctantly caps it, saving the rest.

Then, ignoring the mortification that swells up in him at the prospect of what he will do next, he bends low to the puddle on the floor and laps up every drop of moisture he can find.

He’s a wild animal. He’s insane.

When he’s finished, he lets his arms and legs give out under him and grits his teeth against excruciating waves of pain from his battered body.

It’s simple, really. He endured the punishment; he was given what he asked for.

Though Peter is half-sure he’s already lost his mind, he does know that he needs to make a plan, to rationalize his situation as well as he can with his fuddled brain. Escape is not an option, and neither is refusing punishment.

He swallows and tastes blood.

“Here’s what’s, here’s what’s gonna happen, Peter. Okay? Just get stuff you really, really need. Okay. I’ve got water for tomorrow. Just… uh, ask the day after. And food. No more clothes.”

His rambling words become his life plan.

He’s forced to make adjustments the next time the group visits, however, when his half-full water bottle is taken from him.

Desperation overrides him. He lunges at the figure who holds the bottle, sticking his fingers to it. “Don’t! Please, don’t take it--”

Almost the moment he touches them, an ear-splittingly piercing whistle assaults Peter’s ears, forcing him to unstick himself in favour of dropping painfully to the floor and cramming his hands over his ears. Whatever drug he’s being fed in his cell hasn’t taken away a fraction of his enhanced senses: the noise drills clean through his eardrums and rattles his weary brain in his skull. He bites back a cry of pain. He doesn’t know why; he already looks utterly pathetic.

There’s no water that day.

The next, he asks for food. After breaking his arm, the group gives him a cheese sandwich that tastes better than anything he’s eaten before, even though he has to eat it with one hand.

His white box is steadily getting dirtier, painted with bloodstains, sweat, even puddles of piss. At least there are colours now, not just white, white, white.

“I’m doing great,” he reassures himself after he’s counted twenty visits from the group. There are forty lash marks across his back. He knows; he felt every strike of the whip. But at least he received a blanket in return. It was too cold, so he strayed from his plan. 

He’s been tased and beaten again, had his nose and collarbone and forearm and fingers broken. Every movement he makes hurts somewhere, so he stays still.

“Mister Stark is, he’s, he’s on his way. He’s, uh… fixing his hair. Like he always does when he, when he gets out of the suit. To look cool. When he comes - God, it’s gonna be so nice. I don’t care about his hair. I just... want him.”

He feels closer to a carcass than a human being.

“Get me out, Mister Stark. Get me out, Mister Stark. Why haven’t you come?”

The feral desperation he’s finding it harder and harder to tamp down rears its head again, and he finds himself crying out with all the volume his torn-up throat can muster. “Mister Stark, please - I can’t stay here, going crazy, they’re gonna kill me. Save me . ”

It seems like the world is laughing his face when the group enters the twenty-first time and he’s asked, “Would you like to see Tony Stark?”

“What?” he croaks.

His mind can’t comprehend the thought. Tony Stark darts around his mind, turns itself inside out and emerges in his consciousness shrunken and frayed around the edges like it’s been washed too many times.

“Would you like to see Tony Stark?”

“I, uh…” even attempting a few words of conversation feels foreign to him. “Is he there?”

There’s no response from the group. 

Peter is faced with one of the most frightening choices of his life.

He could accept the punishment on the off-chance that Mister Stark was really there and risk being hurt for nothing; or he could refuse and risk letting Tony down if, by some crazy chance, he was out there and needed Peter to come to him.

Locking his jaw to offset the tremors there, he shuts his eyes.

“Okay.”

Though he braces himself for the instant onslaught of punishment, instead he finds himself being hauled up from the floor and dragged towards the invisible outline of the door. The door. 

He whimpers at unforgiving hands yanking at his bad arm, making an aborted attempt at scrambling to his feet. He’s too weak, too injured. And at the same time, he’s nearing the door, the door that hasn’t let him out in twenty-one days but swings open now.

Peter can’t quite determine whether this is real or not.

His heart awaits the inevitable punishment, thudding restlessly in his chest, but he’s entranced by the door closing behind him, revealing more tiles, a corridor, his arm throbs, tiles, pain, tiles. He reels.

The moment they turn the corner, an abrupt spreading of warmth at the base of Peter’s neck jolts him out of his daze of shock and compels him to lift his heavy head and meet the eyes of a man restrained by two guards, a man facing him, a man who sees him.

“Kid! Hi, kid. It’s me. What did you do to him? Pete. Pete. I’m here, hey?”

“Mister Stark,” Peter breathes.

There’s worry in his eyes, as clear and piercing as a blade. Peter assumes he looks pretty crappy. He doesn’t feel it just now, however. All his thoughts are occupied with Mister Stark Mister Stark Mister Stark , taking his breath away, melting away pain to reveal dizzying relief.

This is why he doesn’t notice at first.

Not until he hears, “Don’t you fucking dare! Kiddo!”

Before he can attempt to jerk away from the hands keeping him in place, they tighten, another pair clamping over the top and bottom of his head so he just barely glimpses a match held to an approaching blowtorch.

Punishment always arrives.

It isn’t panic or desperation that overwhelms him in this precise moment, as time slows down and Tony’s cries of distress are suspended across milliseconds so the minutiae of his reaction rises, falls, intensifies in arcs that are distressingly beautiful. It’s an ugly conglomeration of a thousand pockets of hopelessness accumulated over twenty-one days, a Frankenstein’s monster of pure despair.

“No,” he moans uselessly, hanging limp from the hands. “Don’t do it. I can’t.”

“Kid?”

Peter sobs and yet can’t produce a single tear. “Mister Stark.”

“Kid, you’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Just - look at me. Look at--”

Once, Peter came out of a patrol with a knife in his back, a moderate concussion and a torn hamstring. It was nothing compared to this.

The blowtorch is turned on the side of his face.

Peter screams, long and loud and raw, and the noise ricochets off the tiles and hits him anew. Unparalleled agony. He can’t turn away, no matter how desperately his mind screams for release.  

He will never forget just how awful it feels. The memory of it will imprint upon his mind forever, just as the white light of the instrument now sears his vision through his screwed-shut eyelids.

He feels his flesh melting.

“Kid! Fuck! Don’t - I’m gonna kill you fuckers - get away from him!”

With a flicker, the torch cuts off. Peter can’t breathe, juddering violently against the hands that still hold him and fruitlessly opening and shutting his mouth. The aftershocks of the pain present a different form of horror entirely.

“Breathe, Pete,” comes a voice half-muffled by the violent ringing in his ears, a painfully kind voice, a voice he’s supposed to be safe when he hears. “Breathe through it. C’mon, kid.”

The first breath Peter manages to drag in is torn to shreds, shrivelled by tears he’s unable to shed.

“Kid,” Mister Stark calls again; the syllable is lost in the splintering of his own voice.

Peter manages a small whine.

“Now, Stark, what’s all this about making a deal?”

It’s a new voice, encroaching on Peter from behind and sending his crazed danger sense ringing off the hook.

With his chin forced upwards, Peter recognizes Norman Osborn instantly.

It all fits: the drug that took away his powers, the pristine tiles, the experiments.

He crouches before Peter and taps the newly burnt side of his face. It’s gentle but overwhelmingly painful all the same; Peter chokes on his breath.

“Get your fucking hands away from him, Osborn,” snarls Mister Stark. “This isn't what I’m here for.” Peter has never been more glad of his presence, as little as it seems to affect the punishments he’s given.

Osborn picks up on the grip the guards have on Tony with a smirk, rising to address him. “I can see that. I must say, I’m surprised you turned yourself in. What a sacrifice for this little boy.”

“Quit the fancy footwork.” Mister Stark sounds breathless, wild. “Are you gonna let him go or not?”

It’s only now that Peter’s brain catches on to what Tony is attempting to do.

He does his best to speak around the fried nerves on his face and the haze of shock he’s still trapped in, but all that emerges are pitiful, slurring murmurs. “D’n, m’s’r st’r. D’n t’n y’self in.”

Mister Stark understands the source of his panic and smiles brokenly at him. “It’s gonna be okay, kid. Don’t you worry.”

“N. Pl’s d’n.”

“No need to panic, Peter,” Osborn soothes sickeningly, “We don’t want anything to do with Stark.”

“No. You’re gonna take me and leave him alone,” Mister Stark grits out with impressive stubbornness.

“Don’t you understand, Tony? This boy has strength you can’t imagine. Resilience. We’re making groundbreaking leaps in research.”

Tony is thunderous as he jostles his guards. “This is not research. Give me the kid, or so help me, I’ll--”

“You’ll what?” laughs Osborn.

Something splinters in Tony’s eyes; behind it, Peter sees a plan.

“I’ll tear this place up.”

Before Osborn or any of the masked guards can react, Tony’s glasses flash bright blue and he yells, “FRIDAY, torch them!”

Peter’s mind disconnects from the flurry of what happens next. He’s tackled to the ground and cradled tightly; a fiery blast envelops the room; a chorus of shouts is cut off by silence and a persistent buzzing in his ears.

After twenty-one days of nothing, there is everything. It’s too staggering for him to comprehend for a minute or two.

There’s dust in the air. He watches it settle with eyes that have forgotten how to blink.

Finally, his mind creaks back to life, running on fumes but present enough to tell him that it’s Mister Stark who is wrapped protectively around him. A frenzied glance around the room shows heaps of crumbled tiles, fire, prone bodies.

Dead bodies?

“M’s’r s’rk,” he coughs, hearing his voice dimly as if piped from speakers a hundred feet away. He finds the presence of mind to push at the man’s limp shoulder with his good hand. “G’t up. Y’ g’tta g’t up.”

Mister Stark’s eyes are shut and won’t open.

“Pl’s, m’s’r s’rk...”

Although Peter knows what he has to do, he dreads it.

Sucking in as much air as he can, he shifts himself onto his haunches and heaves his mentor over his shoulder.

The airborne drug has worn off to a degree now he’s outside his cell, returning a little of his strength to him, but the screaming of his injuries has in no way quietened, and he’s pitifully weak from cold, hunger and thirst. He staggers at the weight of Tony against his collarbone and arm, swallowing a cry in fear of waking any of the bad guys, but pushes on, inching towards the end of the corridor.

“C’m’n, Pe’r,” he breathes, fumbling at the doorknob with his one good hand, his bad hand stuck to Tony’s back despite the way it pulls at the snapped bones with every movement he makes. “Sh’t. C’m’n.” 

It’s open. It’s open.

He pulls himself one-handed up a ladder, his legs shaking beneath him, and shoulders open a circular trapdoor.

Outside, there is light.

Peter can’t help but collapse to his knees. The sky is there, wrapping him in an embrace that spans the heavens, cornflower blue and picturesque. Grass and trees glow green. And just fifty feet in front of them both is a roaring, seething freeway.

The noise hits Peter like a brick wall, like a fist with brass knuckles, like a strike from a whip. It surrounds him and invades his ears until there’s nothing but noise, noise Peter can pick apart in overwhelming detail: the friction of tires against tarmac, the smallest particles of grit tossed back and forth by lines of cars and vans and lorries with grumbling engines spitting plumes of carbon dioxide, a mechanical spray of pungently soapy water across a windshield, a chorus of laughter from a family whizzing by in an old Volvo, the tap of a cigarette against the rim of a half-open window, and people, people, people, people, passing him in their clamorous multitudes.

Setting Mister Stark down in the grass with as much gentleness as he can manage with his battered body and thundering heartbeat, Peter flounders, groaning at the grass stalks pricking his bare knees, hearing his breaths speeding up, recalling the sizzling of his skin under the blowtorch, unable to distinguish between the myriad of sensations assaulting him. Sight becomes sound, touch becomes smell, and each crowds his vision with hazy grey and sends wild tremors along the length of his limbs.

Peter’s going to explode.

But he doesn’t.

He recognizes the sign on the freeway. Although the text is painfully bright and jumps back and forth in front of him, he makes out the location. Only about two minute’s drive from the Compound.

He had been certain all good fortune had deserted him the moment he’d been thrown into his box, but today he wonders if someone is looking out for him after all.

All he has to do is walk, but walking has never been so difficult.

“Y’ g’tta go, Pe’r. Y’ c’n d’ it.”

Peter lurches to his feet, yelping when it jolts his back and collarbone. His vision whirls in front of him, spotted with black patches, but he does his best to pay no heed to his brokenness, lifting Tony tremulously over his shoulder.

Every step pains him, wears him out; he wonders every time he puts one foot in front of the other whether it’ll be his last step, whether his body will give up on him, and he comes close, stumbling and falling, but hauls himself back up.

He has to reach the Compound. It’s branded across his mind, the most important thought he has in there, and it keeps him going.

He’s getting out. He’s going home.

Fire licks at his face and knees and arm and fingers and collarbone and back and torso. Everywhere.

Between gasping breaths, he croaks encouragement to himself. “N’ly th’re. Y’ go’ this, Pe’r. Pl’s, keep goin’.”

He walks until the black spots have almost taken over his field of vision. Just as his knees give out under him yet again, he blinks and recognizes the sleek glass-and-steel buildings that he’s now among.

The Compound.

Too exhausted to speak, he simply gets back up, keening at the agony of movement, and carries on. He’s only a few hundred feet away. Two hundred. One hundred and fifty. He prays FRIDAY will alert someone when they get there.

One hundred. He thinks he can make out the doors now, although he can’t hold his head up for longer than a moment and his vision is no good.

Exhaustion has taken on a new meaning for Peter.

He hardly notices that he’s crossed the threshold until the door hisses shut behind him and there’s a muffled, muted sound he thinks could be the frenzied clicking of high heels on a staircase. 

“How did this - Peter? Peter, honey?”

It’s Pepper.

The tone of her voice is blissfully familiar, dissolving the hold of adrenaline on his body and leaving it limp.

“I’m here,” he tries to say, but all that escapes his mouth is an incoherent whimper.

“Peter…” Pepper calls again, the heels drawing close, but he can’t hold on any longer. He doesn’t need to: he’s safe.

Darkness overtakes his vision and he collapses onto the carpet.

[kodzuskook]

4am | avengers

pairing: avengers x avenger!reader (platonic)

decription: it’s four in the morning, you’re surrounded by people that you know and have that weird, naive, slightly fucked up contentment.

requested?: warnings: alcohol use 

author’s note: set after infinity war, before endgame but may include some endgame quotes // this is NOT poking fun or lowering the struggles and pain any of the avengers went through after the decimation. grief and shock sometimes causes naive and ignorant views on reality and that’s what i tried to recreate // avengers!reader

audio: 4am — bastille

﹉﹊﹉﹊﹉﹊﹉﹊﹉﹊﹉﹊

the whole living room floor was covered in bodies. some stretched over others, others leaning against pieces of furniture. some bodies with parts wrapped in bandages and gauze while others lay with exposed scabs and recovering bruises. a few’s chests dropping up and down in a slow rhythm, slipping out of consciousness as the strings of oblivion pulling them into a slumber. the rest, awake, in a blissful state of ignorance.

near each body were bottles. some discarded on their sides, rendered empty of their contents. others meticulously placed, barely drunk, half full, or nearing depletion.

the record player in the corner played an old record bought months earlier. soft music setting the mood across the room. the ticking of the clock fell deaf to ears yet kept moving forward, reading the time to be four am. an hour since everyone had returned from their mission.

you rested your head on steve’s lap, his body slouched on the ground against in the conjoining corner of the sectional sofa while yours sprawled across the cool tiled floor. your eyes were closed, yet you partook in the hushed conversation taking place around you. steve’s fingers ran through your hair, combing through them while responding to phrases directed towards him.

with the coffee table‘s recent switch in placement elsewhere, natasha lay across from you, her head resting against bruce’s stomach while he dreamt away quietly. her eyes stared up at the faraway ceiling, unconsciously counting the lights and connecting them as if they were dots.

quiet but awash-with-intensity sounding snores escaped thor’s lips. his brooding body flipped onto the stomach, his hand still having a tight grip on his bottle of mead. it was no secret that the god of thunder has slipped out of his consciousness still plagued with adverse thoughts about his failures. the rainstorm outside reflected his mood easily, the pelting of the raindrops hard against the glass windows and roofs.

on the other side of the sectional sat james rhodes. a beer, maybe his fifth, in his hand, being pulled up every few minutes for a swig to be taken. his eyes, sunken with the weight of the past few days, followed the figures of the bodies in front of him. a raccoon slept next to him, a peculiar sight to any ordinary person but a sight that was growing on the onlookers of the avengers facility.

virginia potts made her presence known by sitting on the piano bench, her eyes following the raindrops down the windows in a melancholic fashion. sitting on top of the grand piano’s lid was a wine glass and a bottle of wine. pepper preferred to get drunk by the use of wine rather than beer.

the room was shared with people who experienced loss. the vacancy and negative space within the room didn’t go unnoticed but left it feeling light and diluted. quiet words shared in confidence, looming in the air.

“i used to have nothing,” natasha started, her eyes shifting from the ceiling to face you and steve. pepper turned from her seat to join the conversation as the widow continued, “then i got this–this job.”

steve mumbled out, “a hell of a job if you ask me.”

rhodey let out a quiet chuckle, “the whole takin’ names, kickin’ ass shebang.”

you smiled at the man’s slurred speech turning your head back to face natasha as she once again started, “well, yeah. but then, i met you guys. and i had this foundation. this new family.”

you agreed, “i had nothing before the avengers initiative. deadbeat mom, stoned dad. didn’t go to school much but i liked science. fucked around, got these powers,” you paused to demonstrate, creating a hologram-like illustration of yourself as a child, “stark recruited me and i’ve been here since. my only constant.”

pepper grabbed her full wine cup, walking over and joining the conversation with more interest, “i remember that day, tony was ecstatic to get a one up on fury. he had been the one to find and recruit an enhanced, not nick.”

steve laughed, “son of a bitch always left us with mystery.” he pointed to the blinking pager in its case, “don’t even know what the device is for.”

natasha giggled, “it’s what fury did best.” she smiled lightly coming back to her initial point, “you’re all part of my family.”

pepper raised her glass, “to family.”

the conscious and insomnolent members of the group lazily raised their drinks in the air, murmuring the words back into the air before taking a sip, you and natasha sitting up from your positions to do so.

you smiled at the group, your eyes travelling across the slumped figures of thor and bruce before those awake around you, “‘sides you guys, there’s nowhere i would rather be.”

steve wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling your figure near his, “this little,” he paused, “occasionally big group that we have, it’s a beautiful thing.”

“a fucking dangerous one too.” rhodey let out a bitter chuckle, “what the fuck are we gonna do?”

the man’s words brought reality back into the room. the recent doom day that had barely just passed. the loss. the pain. the disappearance. the snap.

natasha shrugged, “hell if i know, but we’ll find a way.”

“how do we come back from this?” pepper shook her head, “i don’t even know if-if tony’s alive.”

“may called me,” your voice cracked as it rippled into the room, “said peter was supposed to be at a field trip but never returned.” you took a sip of your beer, “bruce said he saw red and blue swinging towards the raisin’s ship. kid’s got a heart of gold and major hero complex.” you shook your head bitterly, “did peter survive? why’d he have to go? i can’t lose pete. i can’t.”

“i’m losing my mind thinking about it.” rhodey shook his head, pulling his bottle up to empty its content.

“we’ll figure it out. we always do, somehow.” steve frowned, his mind plagued with the images of his best friend drifting into oblivion.

“i’m scared,” you started, “i’m scared to face this world. i’m scared of walking down those empty streets. not because of crime, but because there is none. the lack of people. the insufferable emptiness. i’m scared of our future.”

rhodey sighed, “aren’t we all?”

steve let out a sigh, deciding to switch the topic, “i saw a pod of whales the other day.”

pepper nodded in recognition, “fewer ships, cleaner water.”

“can’t believe we’re drunk and talking about the bright side of the snap.” natasha took a large sip of her drink.

“sometimes, it’s nice to be ignorant and blissfully unaware of reality.” you shrugged and the other members of the room agreed to your words.

“less noise pollution.” rhodey stated, “less pollution over all.”

steve let out a semi-tipsy giggle, “trump decimated. that’s gotta be a win.”

the large room filled with light laughter from each of the five, the poke at the now, late, president of america made the air feel lighter again.

“guess it’s not too bad when you think about it.” you smiled, naïveté seeping into your words.

“at least we’ve got one another.” pepper sighed, leaning her head against the sofa.

“at least we’ve got some family.”

[floatingpetals]

Peace and Quiet?

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Angst-ish, language, the reader makes a poor decision, fluff as well  

Word Count: 5900+ 

Request: “I seriously love your longer one shots! Could you please do a Cap (or Bucky) + reader, where the reader is kinda loud/outgoing because of not wanting to be forgotten or something? And the reader figures they make him uncomfortable and shuts everyone out, leading to him confessing he likes the reader? Fluff please?” @homeybadger

A/N:  Wow so uhh, this has been a request that’s been sitting in my inbox for sooooo looonnng. No seriously, like super long. I feel so bad that it’s taken me just now to get to it. I wanted to do something nice with it, but I just couldn’t get it right, then I forgot it was there and then I remember and scrapped the whole thing. I hope you enjoy this story and I hope the length makes up for it! I did not mean to take so long on this! I hope you all enjoy!! 

**I’m also debating on doing a second part, but it all depends on the feedback I get. So please let me know what you think! ❤

Gifs not mine, credit to the creator!

“Oh, bad luck. You landed on Boardwalk,” Sam smirked, a giggle beginning to bubble in his chest as the rage that was settling on Y/N’s face across the table. She glared at the double dice, a freaking snake eye, that had been against her the entire game. “And if my math is correct, with my three houses you owe me $1400. And from the looks of your very sad pile, you’ll have to sell everything on top of declaring bankruptcy.”

“I hate this game!” Y/N screamed, throwing down the $300 hundred she had left.

“Hey, don’t hate the game!” Natasha shot back, grinning behind her beer bottle. Y/N shot her glare.

“Oh, shut up! You and Clint have been cheating the entire time and you know it!” she growled. Clint gasped but was cut off by a sharp jab in the ribs by Bucky. He grumbled and pulled out the chance cards he had stashed away, and nudge Natasha to pull out the money she had hidden away. “See! This game sucks!”

“Now, now. No need to go all green on us.” Tony grinned. Bruce made a noise before letting out a puff of air. Irritated with both the game and how smug everyone was acting, Y/N exploded with a primal battle cry.

“Fuck this game! You people are all cheaters!”

Everyone had enough time to grab their drinks off before Y/N flipped the table, the pieces flying everywhere. Bucky and Wanda both doubled over in their seats, howling when Y/N began to scream at Tony, who jumped up and was yelling back at the same volume. Clint and Natasha were grinning like idiots as the mayhem grew. Bruce rolled his eyes when Sam jumped in, normally the tone the room shifted would set him on edge, but this wasn’t unusual. The only person that wasn’t reacting, save for Vision who had no idea why tensions were so high over a silly game, was Steve.

He had decided to sit this game night out. After the Mario Party debacle, he wasn’t ready to jump back in the ring. Thor spun a wheel and tossed a dart to cut someone’s stars in half. He landed on Y/N’s. While she was once in the lead, that cut her stars in half and she was suddenly in last place. That was fine. It was when she was hit by Bowser, who Tony was playing as when they managed to let him loose of his little prison that she flipped her lid. The team got a kick out of her raging at the games, and all banded together to see how quickly she could snap. Steve, however, didn’t see the charm in it.

To put it lightly, Y/N was a lot to handle. She was everywhere all at once to begin with, her voice carrying through walls. There wasn’t a single mean bone in her body, aside from her intense competitive streak. She seemed to win over anybody. Steve still wasn’t sure. He’d admit, she was sweet and everyone else seemed to love her. Steve thought she was cute too, sometimes she would fall asleep on the couch and he’d find himself taking advantage of her stillness to stare. But she never stopped to breathe once it seemed. He couldn’t recall a time where she wasn’t talking loudly about something or practically bouncing off the walls from excitement. She was a lot more than he was used to. Y/N made his head spin. It wasn’t terrible, but it was a bit exhausting after a while around her. It also didn’t help that sometimes her power manifested with her growing emotions. Which is what was happening right now.

“You’re the one who wanted us to play this stupid game!” Tony accused, rolling his eyes.

“Did not! I specifically said that I thought it was a stupid idea because I always end up flipping a table! You’re the one who then said we had to play it since learning that bit of information.” She countered pointing a finger at him. Tony stopped, a sly grin spreading across his face.

“Oh yeah.”

“Ugh!” She grumbled. “You people are so frustrating! Why do you do this to me?!”

“Because it’s fun.” Tony grinned, his eyes flashing with glee. That was the wrong thing to say. Now Y/N really was angry. She grits her teeth and balled her fists at her side. If this was a cartoon, she’d have steam coming out of her ears she was so angry. Unbeknownst to her, her powers started to manifest with her mounting fury, afflicting the others in the room.

Y/N’s power was special and even a bit strange considering how specific it was. Since she could remember, Y/N always had the gift to control the aura around her to suppressed others authority and leadership skills. It was a power that had come handy in her life, but also hindered her more than it helped. She had a rather strong grip on it at all times, but sometimes that control slipped. Tony’s face paled, and everyone else around her started to shift uncomfortably.

“Uh-Y/N.” Wanda reached out, her fingers gently brushing against the back of Y/N’s arm. Wanda flinched, the contact enough to send her the full force of Y/N’s strange power, but she fought to stay strong. Y/N blinked, quickly realizing the shift in the room was because of her. Her shoulder’s dropped and the suffocating aura surrounding her disappeared. The room sighed collectively in relief.

“See. This is why you shouldn’t poke the bear.” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms against her chest. Tony chuckled and shook his head.

“It’s nice to know you’re aware.” Sam let out a laugh as well, grinning widely at her. She grumbled under her breath and turned to sit back in her seat. As she did, she scanned the room and noticed a spot empty. Standing straighter she glanced around the room.

“Hey, where did Steve go?”

The group collectively turned around, just now noticing the empty seat their Captain once took up as well. Bucky frowned and shot a look to Natasha, who seemed on the same page. Slowly, he turned to back to Y/N.

“Uh... Maybe he decided to turn in early.” He tried. The team seemed to take it, albeit skeptically. He had been doing this a lot lately, getting up at disappearing without a word. No one wanted to say it aloud, but they all noticed it happened around the time Y/N came to the team four months ago.

Y/N stilled, her eyes hardening for a split second before they seemed to glaze over. Shaking her head, she heaved a sigh.

“I’m gonna turn in early too. Sorry, this little outburst just took a lot out of me.” She said, stepping over the discarded pieces and was out of the room before anyone could argue. The room had shifted into a subdued atmosphere, everyone thinking the same thing.

“Someone needs to talk to him.” Wanda murmured. Bucky nodded, letting out a sigh.

“I’ll talk to him.” He said. The rest all murmured in agreement, slowly trickling out the room since game night clearly was done for the evening. They could only hope tomorrow would end on a better note.

~~~~~~~

Y/N sat on her bed, clinging to her favorite stuffed animal wondering just where she went wrong. Since she joined the team a few short months ago, she had been trying her best to get close to the rest of her teammates. Naturally, she was a bubbly person. But her gift made it harder for her to get close to anyone. Her parents thought it was odd, the power came from nowhere when she hit the age of three. It took them time to figure out that it wasn’t because she was incredibly intimidating and that she was unintentionally suppressing their confidence level.

They spent years taking her to doctors and specialists that might be able to help her control her powers. It wasn’t without consequences. Because she struggled for so long to control her powers, she spent a lot of her life unintentionally hurting those around her.

Her classmates didn’t know what exactly, but they knew something was wrong with her. She spent the majority of her school years alone in the corner, shunned from taking part of anything in her classes. If anyone tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, something always went wrong. They were terrified of her. The fear turned to indifference and eventually, they paid her no mind. No one wanted her in their lives. But for Y/N, she wanted nothing more than to be accepted and included.

Which might explain why she was the way she was today. It took years to master her control, but she did it. And now that she was an Avenger, she was surrounded by people who were like her. Special and unique. Nowhere else could she be herself as she could here. This was her last chance of being free and she never wanted to be forgotten.

It didn’t take her long to win over the others. They were more than aware of what she could do. Not a one batted an eyelash, no one shrank away in fear they’d be subjected to the smothering fear she could plague them with. If anything, it fascinated them. She was the one who they’d send in to interrogate. Whether on location or in a holding cell, it didn’t matter. Her power was a gift to get the tightest of lips to talk. For the first time in her life, Y/N felt as though she had finally found her calling.  

Y/N was proud of how far she had come. It was years of uphill battles and year left in the shadows. But now, she had it all, friends, her family and a job she loved. All except the acceptance of Steve. He was polite, but he always had an air of discomfort around her. Not with anyone else, just her. Y/N hated to admit it, but it hurt.

Since the day she met him, Y/N fell hard. Who couldn’t though? He was charming, cared for his friends and protective of his family. But for some reason, he just didn’t seem like he enjoyed being around her. Perhaps, she thought, it was something she said to him. She couldn’t recall anything that might set his teeth on edge, but she was at a loss.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Y/N set her stuffed animal down on the bed and swung her legs over the side. She knew she shouldn’t dwell too much on it. He could very well be in a bad mood, and it could confidently only be when she’s in the same room. She snorted. Yeah, that was it.

No, she thought, there was something more about it. Thinking back all the times she noticed he’d got running, realization hit her like a freight train. Every time he ran, it was because of something she did. It was her. A broken sob crept it’s way up her throat. She was the reason, that was the only thing it could be. Steve Rogers, the man who unknowingly held her heart in his hands, was uncomfortable with her. She clenched the sheets of the bed and held back her tears.

Y/N had to change. Her behavior had always been a problem, she knew that. She was so terrified of being left alone and forgotten again, she let her eagerness go too far. Falling back on the bed, she stared at the ceiling and came to a life-altering decision.

~~~~~

“Hey! There you are!” Natasha grinned motioning Y/N over to her mat. “I was wondering if you’d ever show up or if I’d have to go up to pull you out of bed.”

Y/N didn’t respond with her usual quip, just sent her a tight-lipped smile and a soft apology. Natasha blinked her lack of typical response slightly off-putting. Where was her boisterous hello and never-ending pouts of energy? It was one of the fun things about working out with Y/N first thing in the morning. This wasn’t usual of her at all.

“Okay.” Natasha drawled, looking over Y/N to try and decipher her new attitude. “Well, let’s get started on stretching you at, then we’ll get on the mat to spar.”

Y/N wordlessly nodded, moving over to where the yoga mats were laid out waiting for her. Natasha took up the spot next to her, keeping her eyes especially close on Y/N. Aside from her uncharacteristically quiet demeanor, it didn’t seem like there was a hair out of place on her. Although, her movement seemed a bit on the robotic side. Y/N was just going through the motions, getting done with her stretches before wordlessly making her way over to the mats without a glance to Natasha.

Natasha sat up and watched Y/N leave without a word, flabbergasted. Things seemed fine last night, aside from Steve’s abrupt disappearance. As far as Natasha knew, Y/N had gone straight to her room to sleep. And everyone was either here in the gym or Tony and Bruce in the lap. So, what happened to Y/N?

“Hey, you okay?” Natasha asked, catching Y/N’s elbow.

“What do you mean?” Y/N tilted her head to the side, brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” Natasha said slowly, her gaze narrowing the longer she stared at Y/N. “You just seem… off today.”

“Oh.” She uttered simply. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Pulling her arm away from Natasha, Y/N wandered over to where Sam was now standing with Bucky. Their smile grew at the sight of her, both unaware of Y/N’s new behavior.

“Good morning sunshine!” Sam beamed at her, wrapping her up in a hug. Y/N let out a faint giggle as she hugged him back. Bucky grinned and tilted his head in greeting.

“Morning doll. You sleep okay last night? I didn’t hear your snores through the paper-thin walls last night.”  He teased, nudging her with his shoulder. Y/N huffed but surprisingly bit her tongue.

“Morning Bucky. Yeah, I slept fine.” Y/N shrugged, her face showing little to no emotions. “We ready to get started.”

Both men were stunned, completely thrown off by her sudden change. They shot Natasha a startled look, who could only shrug. She hadn’t the faintest idea either what happened. Y/N wasn’t supplying them with anything either, so all they could do was continue as if nothing was wrong. It didn’t mean they weren’t going to question her later of course.

Getting done with their training was odd, uncomfortable even. Y/N didn’t speak unless spoken to, and even then they were short simple answers. There was none of her usual spunkiness that fought back with each quip Sam sent her way. He even tried to rile her up, he almost pulled out all the stops in a hope to gain a reaction from her. But she didn’t move an inch. Bucky tried to get her to react when he threw a punch harder than necessary her way. They thought they had her, there was a spark of fury in her eyes after she picked herself up, but she quickly wiped the expression on her face.

In the end, Y/N went through the motions, doing what needed to be done without her usual flare. At one point, Wanda had even commented on how unusually quiet she had been. When Y/N left to head to the locker room, she cornered Bucky and Sam.

“What did you two do?” she hissed, jabbing a finger in Sam’s chest. He made a noise in the back of his throat offended at the accusation.

“What the hell makes you think we did anything?” Bucky crossed his arms across his chest. Wanda turned her narrow gaze to Bucky.

“Well. Something happened to her. And I know Natasha wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

“Oh and we would?” Sam snapped, shaking his head. “We didn’t do anything to her Wanda, she was like this when she came in.”

“He’s right.” Natasha interrupted, siding with the two men. “She’s been like this all morning. I have no clue why.”

The door the locker room opened, Y/N walking freshly out of the shower and a new change of clothes. She stopped short when she saw all four eyes locked on her across the room. Awkwardly, she waved to them before heading to the exit. Right as she reached it, Steve swung open the door, towel in hand. His steps faltered and a tight-lipped smile passed on her face.

The group couldn’t see her face from where they stood. All they could see was her nod her head once before stepping around Steve with a wide berth to head out the exit. Steve was left stunned. It wasn’t normal to not have his ear talked off when it came to Y/N. Blinking rapidly, he wandered over to Bucky, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What she say?” Wanda asked. Steve’s mouth fell open to answer but couldn’t find the right words.

“Uh… Nothing.” He shrugged.

“And you don’t find that strange?” Wanda asked the group, pinning each of them with her stare. Bucky bristled at the insinuation, his hands balling into fists.

“We never said it wasn’t. We just have no idea what’s wrong with her.” He snapped, stepping up with his back straighter and shoulders set. Wanda glared right back, red seeping into her eyes. Natasha wiggled her way between them, grumbling under her breath.

“Alright. Alright, enough.” She held her hands out to both, pushing them back. “Wanda, we have no clue what happened. Y/N walked in like this. It’s probably nothing and she’s just having an off day. Why don’t we just let whatever happened run its course and see how she is through the rest of the day. No point on biting each other’s heads off when we all did nothing wrong.”

The group grumbled their agreement, still not at ease with how the morning had turned. Steve was just as concerned as the rest. It was odd that she didn’t greet him with her megawatt smile when he walked in the gym, and it was odd how her face seemed to tighten at the sight of him. All he got this morning was a tight-lipped smiled before she ran out the door. What was even odder was the fact that she seemed to give him as much space as possible. As if she didn’t want to get too close.

Steve turned to the door, his brows creased and mouth in a tight line. Something was going on with Y/N, but who was he to worry about her?

~~~~~~~~

Things hadn’t gotten much better with Y/N over the next few days. She had stopped taking part in the loud discussions that always managed to start up in the kitchen or the living room. Her words were short and few in between, but she didn’t seem upset. Just much more subdued than usual. When someone would speak to her, so would she. But it was never the same volume as before.

Sam and Clint both made it their mission to get her to snap. They did everything from switching her sugar to salt in her coffee to going into her room and putting baby powder in her hair dryer. Nothing worked. She would just sigh and turn her back to them, shoulders tense. They thought she’d give up and go back to her old ways, but nothing worked. Not even Natasha could get her to admit what was wrong.

Steve, however, was taking her attitude change harder than the rest. Don’t ask him why he didn’t even know. He thought he’d prefer her at a lower decibel, he assumed she would be more manageable and easier to get along with. But this, this wasn’t what he thought it would be like. To him, it almost seemed creepy. This wasn’t the Y/N he had come to know. The wasn’t the same woman in the slightest. It was as if someone else swapped personalities with her.

Y/N hadn’t shown any improvement in her attitude in the field either. Actually, she seemed to be less productive now. One of the ways she managed to get people to confess was using her power and then releasing it. There she’d act like a good cop, bargaining with them for information and if they didn’t give her what she wanted, she’d switch her powers back on again. Now, she just threw herself into it. There was no build up, no false sense of security.

Just last week they needed information about the next hit Hydra ordered. They apprehended one of the agents and sent in Y/N to get out the information when he wouldn’t fess up. The team assumed the old Y/N would come out now that she was in the field. Instead, she walked in and used the full force of her powers on the man. She was already so powerful, but she had a strong grip on her control. When her power flared to life, even with the thick walls it suffocated everyone.

The agent instantly started sobbing, blubbering like a small child before it grew to mindless screaming for mercy. As it turns out, her power can actually break the human spirit and shatter their sanity into a thousand pieces. It only affected the man in front of her, but it still rattled the rest of the group. Steve was furious.

“What the hell was that?!” He snarled, dragging Y/N into a conference room. She blinked, her face unmoving despite the rage rolling off him in waves. Tony, Fury, and Maria both sat around the meeting table, their mouths pulled into thin lines. She tore her gaze away, refusing to look at anyone in particular as Steve raged on. “You ruined any chances of getting information out of him!”

“Actually Cap, she ruined any chance of him being a normal human being again,” Tony interjected, pulling up a hologram of the doctor's report. The mental status report had been sent in a few moments before Steve dragged her in. The poor man couldn’t remember his name let alone the information they needed.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers and let out a heavy breath. When she opened them, their faces hadn’t changed a bit. Settling on a point at the table, the brief glimpse she caught of their expressions was burned in her mind. Steve was livid, Tony seemed borderline irritated with a hint of amusement, while Fury and Maria both had a hard expression that told her she was in for it for the next few weeks.

“Look. I’m sorry. I let a few personal matters get to me and clearly, I didn’t handle it well.” She said calmly. Steve flinched at how lifeless she sounded when she mentioned her personal matter and shot Tony a concerned look. Tony tilted his head in acknowledgment, he too aware of the pain she seemed to be suppressing. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again by accident, but I’ll make sure to put more training in to ensure it doesn’t.”

Fury shifted in his seat, folding his hands on his crossed knee. His single eye narrowed as he looked her over and gave her a curt nod.

“See that it doesn’t agent. Dismissed.” He said curtly. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut for a spilt-second before she jerked her chin and spun at heel to leave the room. After the door shut behind her, Fury grunted.

“What did you people do to her?” He accused, leveling Steve and Tony with a stare. Both men frowned and glanced at the other.

“We didn’t do anything.” Tony snapped, narrowing his eyes. Steve set his hand on the back of a chair and sighed.

“She’s been like this for almost a week now. This is the first time she’s actually admitted something wrong.” Steve replied, his brows furrowing at the tightness in his chest at the idea. It wasn’t like Y/N to keep everything bottle up inside her like this.

“Well, whatever’s wrong with her, fix it,” Fury ordered. “She needs to be in complete control and that can’t happen when her minds on other things.”

Pushing back the chair he stood, Maria right behind him. Not waiting for a reply, he grabbed the folder off the desk and briskly left the room with Maria following. Steve flinched when the door snapped shut behind them. Tony scoffed.

“You can get rid of that sad puppy dog look, Captain.”

Steve frowned, his head snapping up to Tony.

“What’s with the tone, Tony?” He asked. Tony rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

“We all know you don’t like Y/N, you put up a good front though.” He waved a hand absently. “But when you dart out of a room anytime she comes in, or you won’t sit to talk with her when she comes to find you, it gets pretty noticeable.”

Steve stood taller, his mouth drawing into a tight line. He opened his mouth to argue, but it dawned on him. He hadn’t been the most welcoming person to Y/N in the few months she’s been here. Was that really how everyone perceives him? Tony smirked and shook his head.

“To put it simply; you’ve been an ass to our Y/N, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was something you did.” Groaning softly under his breath, Tony stood and grabbed his tablet. Steve’s face fell, the notion her change might have been because of him made his stomach turn. Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder, his mouth pulled into a tight line. “Like Fury said, we’re going to fix this. But don’t worry. We won’t waste your precious time.”

At that, Tony left Steve alone in the conference room, the sting of his words lingering behind. Steve’s shoulder slumped. Maybe this had been his fault. But when? How? He really didn’t think it would have been that big of a deal to leave early after the game. Maybe he thought wrong and she did take it wrong. That wouldn’t mean this complete 180 though, would it? It wasn’t the first time he escaped a game night gone wrong, and she didn’t seem upset them. Perhaps it was something else. That had to be it. He really hadn’t done anything wrong, at least he didn’t think he did.

“Hey FRIDAY,” Steve called. Immediately, the AI system responded.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Go back to the last game night, the one with monopoly, did anything happen to Y/N between the time I left, and she went to bed?” He asked. Silence met him as the computer searched the data.

“No, it doesn’t seem like anything happened. She never left her room once she entered either.” FRIDAY replied. Steve frowned, even more, confused than before. So if there wasn’t anything that happened to her then what was with change?

Clenching his jaw, Steve knew he needed to get to the bottom of this. Not just as a Captain to his team, but as a way to make up for being such a shitty housemate. And maybe even as a way to start an actual friendship with him. Now that he’s seen this side of her, he realized how judgment and close-minded he was. He needed to find her and talk with her.

~~~~

Y/N had just stripped out of her suit and into her PJs when there was a hesitant knock on the door. She frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone tonight, especially not after she just got her ass handed to her. Reluctantly she went to open the door and was surprised at the person on the other side.

Steve stood there awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. She blinked and took a step back.

“Uh… hi?” she greeted cautiously.  Steve smiled hesitantly and shifted from foot to foot.

“Hey. Can we talk?”

“W-Why?” She clutched on the handle and shifted behind the door in an attempt to hide behind it. Steve noticed and his smile fell. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I know I’m the last person you want to talk to. I’ve not been the most welcoming and I want to apologize. Can I please come in?” He asked earnestly. Y/N was caught off guard at his sincerity. Nodding numbly, she pulled the door open and let him in her room.

Steve glanced around the room, noticing the number of pictures she had hanging up on her wall, pretty fairy lights cascading down the walls illuminating each photo. Her comforter was a light lilac with stuffed animals on the bed. He eyed the little knickknacks matched the rest of her décor on her desks and shelves adding to the warmth and homey feel her room had. Realization hit him that he really hadn’t taken the time to get the real her.

“Go ahead and have a seat.” Y/N waved to the bed before sitting on the other end. Steve sank into the plush mattress, taking a moment to look over Y/N. She refused to make eye contact, to busy wringing her fingers together to notice him staring. Once again, he was struck by how beautiful she was, and how poorly he handled everything.

“Look Y/N, I don’t know what happened the past few days and why you’re acting different, but somethings changed. We all can see it.” He said. Y/N opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it. Steve continued on. “I don’t know what happened, but it hurts all of us to see you like this. It’s like you’ve lost a huge part of yourself and we’re seeing this empty shell. I mean, Sam and Clint both are losing their minds because what ordinarily would work on getting you riled up is doing nothing. And Bucky’s beside himself, Natasha and Wanda are worried sick, and Tony is pissed because-.” Steve stopped short, his face twisting into a pained expression. “He thinks I’m the reason.”

Y/N tensed, her breath catching in her throat. It was minuscule, but Steve caught it. He sat taller and his stomach sank.

“It is because of me.” He whispered sadly. He tore his eyes away from her to stare blankly at his hands. Y/N closed her eyes but didn’t deny it. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve not been accepting. I didn’t mean to hurt you though.”

Y/N nodded slowly, biting her lower lip as he kept talking.

“Truth is, you intimidate the hell out of me. I’ve never met someone who was so sure of themselves and so incredibly proud about it. You held nothing back and you’re so willing to put your heart on your sleeve, I kind of envy you a little. People loved you right of the bat and your just so sweet inside and out. I mean, you didn’t let anyone tell you to chill out before. Which leaves me to ask, why now? Why did I affect you so much that you changed everything about you?”

That caused Y/N’s face to heat up. No way was she going to admit it aloud! It was already embarrassing enough Steve knew he was a reason why she changed, but for him to know what the full reason was mortified her.

“Y/N.” He gently took her hand in his, the corners of his lips turned up. “You don’t have to tell me. I just want you to know that no matter what you think, I don’t hate you. I never did. Matter of fact, I really like you. More than I thought. It didn’t hit me how much I’d come to admire and appreciate your take on life until now. I miss hearing you bicker with Tony about the best brew coffee first thing in the morning or when you and Bucky gang up on Sam. I know Natasha and Wanda miss having their best friend. And game nights will never be the same without you threatening and then following through with flipping a table.”

Y/N giggled and ducked her chin. His grin grew, finally seeing a glimmer of her former self.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me for how I’ve behaved. I can only ask you’ll give me a chance to make up for being such a shitty person.” He grinned.

“Language, Captain.” Y/N teased.

“Is that ever going to die?” Steve groaned and rolled his eyes. “Wait you weren’t even there!”

“I know but hate to break it to you, it’s here for the long haul.” Y/N giggled and shook her head. Steve’s laughter joined hers, his smile stretching from ear to ear. He titled his head to the side after a beat before letting out a sigh.

“So, are you going to be okay?” He asked hopefully. Y/N let out a deep breath, for the first time all week feeling lighter. She was so drained from keeping her emotions in check, it took every ounce of her strength not to react to the attempts at making her snap. She knew it was ridiculous trying to change, but she really thought it was for the better. Turns out, it not only damaged her but everyone she loved.

“Yeah. I think I’ll be okay.” She spoke confidently. Steve patted her thigh and quickly stood.

“Good, because Tony discovered some new game called The Jackbox Party Pack or something along those lines.” He extended a hand and waited for her to take it.

“Wait, right now?” She asked surprised. He nodded and took her hand.

“Yup. Come on. Team bonding time.”

Y/N laughed, letting him pull her up and drag her out of the room. He looked at her over his shoulder, his breath catching in her throat at the way her face lit up from her grin. Turning back quickly, he hoped she didn’t notice the way his ears turned pink. He was an idiot for not taking the time to get to know her. He wasn’t going to ruin his chance with her a second time. Maybe it wasn’t going to easy, but for Y/N he knew it would be worth it.

Perma Tag: (CLOSED)

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Steve Tag: (Open)

@biologik / @screamimalive / @ahsokastarwars / @bucky-smiles / @robfangirl /

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