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My biggest gripe with Black Panther Wakanda Forever is literally what was Riri doing there. She was just There throughout the whole movie. Like why was she suddenly so willing to fight in the frontlines for a country she knows little about let alone been to? The only connection she has to Shuri is her idolisation of her as a superhero/genius inventor. There’s no backstory for her (the mentions of her stepdad’s car don’t count), she only talks about calling her mom once. She gets a lazier introduction into the mcu compared to Spider Man (a household name that didn’t need his origin story retold, which was a conscious choice the mcu made). She was the mcguffin at the start of the movie but then we’re told that Namor doesn’t even care about her?? He just wants to wage war on the surface world?? She goes to Talokan to do fuck all??? She doesn’t even get a confrontation with Namor?? She was there in the finale to contribute with her Iron Heart armour but,,, Shuri already invented a bunch of flying/underwater tech armours for Okoye and Co. which ended up underselling Riri. Literally there was nothing Riri could do in the movie that Shuri couldn’t have done. Maybe I missed something but did they even name drop her title “Iron Heart”? She’s not even a teenager anymore (she was like a 13yo MIT student in the comics I think) so it’s even more annoying when she just gets ordered around like a kid. Literally why was she there.
Tldr: Riri should debut properly in her own show with a complete backstory/character arc instead of being dumped into BPWF for no reason.
#also I get they’re trying to move on from the OG avengers especially Iron man but it’s so hard to believe that her origin has nothing to do#with Tony at all. they literally parallel her hammering with IM1 ffs and she doesn’t even mention TS as an inspiration?#ik they can’t go with the mentor/mentee story like the comics but her name and tech are so intrinsically tied to iron man that it’s weird#to not even hear Tony starks name at all#also didn’t she also have a tragic backstory where her whole family dies in a shooting accident?#black panther: wakanda forever#black panther wakanda forvever spoilers#mcu critical#ramblings#fandom: marvel
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jealousy, jealousy
bucky barnes x avenger!reader (no use of y/n)
bucky hates when his girl has to flirt with the enemy
word count: 1.5k | warnings: none
The whole idea of it was absolutely, utterly stupid.
Zemo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious when he couldn't leave your name out of his mouth during the whole Sokovia Accords issue. Now, he was up to no good once more after escaping prison, leaving the Avengers no choice but to find out what he was up to.
The only problem? He refused to speak. Well, he refused to speak unless it was with you.
Bucky felt rage creep up his whole body when Steve explained what you had to do. You had to actually pretend to be interested in every single word Zemo said, meaning even if he flirted, you had to just take it. Apparently, this genius idea was Tony's, and the rest of the team had agreed to it, meaning Bucky's opinion was next to worthless, especially when you already agreed.
He trusted you with every ounce of his being, and he knew you wouldn't do it if you couldn't handle it, but he hate the fact that Zemo was probably going to flirt your ear off. You were Bucky's girl, his doll, his special girl, his everything, not Zemo's.
Nonetheless, Bucly had to hold his tongue and silently nod as Steve explained.
"What're you thinking, Buck?" Steve asked, noticing Bucky's silent deminor.
"I'm thinking about how many ways I could murder Zemo," Bucky commented, eyes darkening.
Steve sighed, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder, "Bucky, she said she could do this."
"It's not her I don't trust, Steve. Imagine your girl getting hit on and you couldn't do jack shit to stop it. How would you feel then?" Bucky seethed, taking a deep breath in. "Sorry, that was hostile."
With a shake of his head, Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "I understand, Bucky. But we have to get to the bottom of Zemo's plan, and he won't talk unless its to her."
The whole team sat in silence, now gathered in the meeting room. The only noise was the whirl of the fan above their heads as they watched the live footage of you standing in front of Zemo's cell.
"Zemo," You said, crossing your arms. "Being stubborn as always, I hear."
A crooked smile formed on the man's face as he leaned his head on the bars, as close to you as he could get. "Darling, I just did not wish to speak to such insolent people such as the Avengers," Zemo scowled as he spoke. "But a dove as sweet as you? How could I pass?"
Bucky felt his fists clench tightly as he watched the interaction. God, he just wanted to deck this guy straight in the nose. Ever since the Sokovian first went on the run, he always seemed to make some time mid-battle to try and make some small talk with you. It annoyed not only Bucky, but everyone. No one talks that much during a fight. However, now that he was captured, it was the perfect time to use his infatuation of you to the team's advantage.
"Tell me, what do you have planned with those," You paused, grabbing your file and flipping through the loose pages, "Ah, 'weapons of double mass extinction' as you so delicately put it."
Zemo laughed, "Extinction is not my end goal if that is what you are asking my dove."
"It wasn't," You added as Zemo continued.
"However, I am just so excited to reveal what they will be used for." He smiled. Your brow shot up, waiting for his answer. "But seeing it will be the best reveal of all."
Sam sighed, watching this all carry on from where the team was still sat. "He's just gonna play games with her."
"She's smarter than you'd think, give her a chance." Natasha said, "I'd know, I trained her."
Tony stood up, "I don't like this, I'm ending it."
Bucky held up his hand, nodding. "For once, I gotta agree with Stark. I want my girl out of his sight."
Quickly, Steve stood up, "This is our only chance to find out what Zemo has planned. He won't lay a finger on her. Is it uncomfortable? Of course it is, none of us enjoy watching him flirt with her, but it'll work." Tony sat down as Bucky grumbled, all eyes falling back to the screen that showed you now closer to Zemo's bars.
"Would your wife really enjoy knowing you're flirting with me?" You slightly taunted, wanting to push his buttons.
"My wife is dead, but you already know of this." Zemo replied.
With a knowing nod, you pursed your lips, "She was Sokovian too, yeah?"
"We were all from Sokovia, my wife and son, as well as myself." Zemo answered.
"Born and raised?" You continued. Zemo gave a nod as you thought for a moment with a hum, "Were you there when Ultron attacked?"
Zemo nodded, "Yes. That is when my family was murdered."
"I'm sorry," You honestly replied. "Does it still bother you? Not your dead family, but the Sokovia thing. You know, the floating?"
A quick glance of the situation, and it would've looked like you were now just chatting with the enemy, but you held down a smirk as Zemo replied. "Of course I am. That was my home."
"New York could be your home now," You offered. "Turn yourself in and we can get you transferred here."
Zemo laughed, "I would not wish to be here after what will happen."
Boom. You looked up to the camera, "You all got that?" You asked the camera, knowing your team was watching. You grabbed your file, standing up. "Thank you for your time, Zemo. This was very informative." You grabbed your comm and pushed it down, "Stand-by. Send Stark-Bots to check perimeters of the state. Zemo's planning on making us levitate like Sokovia."
Face pale, Zemo stood up, yelling incoherent words that fell upon your deaf ears as you left the room. Bucky, who had seen it all, was already waiting for you outside. He was quick to grab you and hold you tight to his chest.
"I'm okay, Buck," You smiled, voice muffled from your face being pushed against his strong body.
Bucky shook his head, "I know, I just don't want you near that freak again."
You couldn't help but laugh at his words as you pulled away enough to give him a kiss. "You jealous of Zemo?"
"You played into it," Bucky muttered.
"It was all fake, love." You replied. "You know I'm your girl."
Bucky couldn't help but smirk, "Damn right you are." He turned to the door that lead to Zemo's cell. "You hear that? She's my damn girl!"
You couldn't help but feel your heart thump at Bucky's words. He was always so damn hot when he was jealous. "C'mon, show your girl how much you love her." You teased, Bucky's eyes falling on you once more. He was quick to grab your waist with his metal arm, pulling you in as his other hand rested on the back of your neck, pushing your face against his as his lips locked with yours, a tight, sloppy kiss ensuing in the middle of the hall.
"I'm never letting you do that again." Bucky muttered, pulling away to speak. His breath was hot on your cheek as he spoke. He pulled you into another wet kiss as a soft ahem came from behind you both.
"This is not a room, but I'm sure your horny asses could find one."
Bucky groaned as he turned around, "Do you have to ruin every moment?" He asked Sam who stood smugly.
He put his hands in the air, "I just wanted to congratulate Nat's best student on her great work. Especially the one where she made her soldier get all jealous"
"Thank you, Sam," You smiled, a light blush on your face.
Bucky took a pen out of his pocket and threw it at Sam, "Get outta here, man!"
"Alright, alright! No need for hostility." Sam defended as he walked away.
As Sam left, you gave a knowing smile at Bucky. "So jealous over my mission, huh?"
Bucky scoffed, feeling embarrassment creep in his chest, "I wasn't jealous."
"I think you were," You argued. "Over Zemo of all peopke."
"Only I can talk to you that way," Bucky said, voice nearly a whine. "You're all mine, not his or anyone else's, and he knows it."
You smiled, giving Bucky a kiss on the cheek, "And that's probably why he loves doing it so much. You know he's got a thing against super soldiers. He's gonna do anything to get under your skin."
"And he chose the worst way to do it," Bucky muttered as you pressed a soft kiss on his lips.
Bucky looked at you with a goofy smile, pulling back. "C'mon, doll. We still got some work to do cleaning up Zemo's mess."
"Someone's feeling better," You teased as you both began to walk. "You'd better show me some more of that jealousy later," You suggested.
"Oh, I will," Bucky smiled. "You bet your fine ass I will."
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes x reader#sebastian stan x reader#marvel fic#bucky fanfic#bucky#bucky barnes x you#bucky barns x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes
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Happy birthday, by the way 🎂
Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Requests open <3
Summary: After a few months of dating, you realise you don't know when Nat's birthday is. She isn't interested in celebrating, and when you ask, she refuses to tell you. But you are very determined.
____☆____
A/N: This is just a little fluff, also my first x reader fic. Love reading em so I thought I'd give it a go :3. Also I find it hard to read Y/N as my name so I'm using [...] instead!
Tags: Just fluff <3
____☆____
"Oh, come on, why won't you just admit it?"
"Because I can't deal with you inviting half of the United States to the tower for a party."
"Exaggeration."
Natasha raises a brow at you. "Oh really? And what about he time you put flyers around about Wanda's party?"
"She was turning 21!"
She gives you a 'really?' look and you know you aren't getting anything out of her. It just didn't make any sense, birthdays were the one day a year where it was all about you. Well that's everyday if you're Tony Stark, but for well functioning members of society it should count as the best day of the year.
"I will not be disclosing that information until I can trust you not to make a huge deal."
"What if I pinky promise?"
"You always overdo it, detka, it's just how you are." She plants a small kiss on your forehead and leaves you on the couch to begin plotting.
___♡___
"And then she said 'you always overdo it', give me a break!"
Wanda looks up from the pot she's stirring and chuckles, "I didn't know half the people the showed up at the tower on my 21st, [.....]"
"I knew I should've gone to Tony, he would get this."
"I don't think asking the most flamboyant Avenger would be very helpful in this situation."
"Right."
"I think you should just leave it, she'll probably tell you eventually." She gently taps a bit of salt into the pot.
"Or..."
"No."
"You didn't even hear me out!"
"I can read minds. It's a terrible idea."
"Firstly, reading Nat's mind to figure out her birthday is literally a flawless plan, and secondly, you're good reading my mind and not hers?"
"Natasha already set her boundaries with me, and plus I don't feel like getting my ass kicked for aiding and abetting."
"Thanks a lot Wands."
"Any time."
If Wanda wasn't going to cooperate then you were simply going to have to enlist the help of a certain blonde assassin.
___♡___
You hear Lucky and Fanny barking hysterically after you ring the doorbell, followed by fast paced footsteps and a small "One minute" from the other side of the door.
Usually a simple question would only warrant a text or phone call, but for some reason Yelena NEVER answers her phone. Unless it's from Kate of course, you're half convinced that she has a special ringtone and notification for her.
It's none other than the archer that answers the door, "Hey, [.....]! I didn't know you were coming over."
"I've actually dropped in unannounced, but I won't stay too long." You reassure her. Kate has a habit of forgetting things, including scheduled hang outs and honestly everything else that isn't attached to her body.
"Come on in!" She steps out of the way and shuts the door behind both of you.
You're immediately greeted by the two large dogs, fighting over your attention in a confusion of wagging tails and paws. Kate tries to get them under control and ultimately fails until they're distracted by Yelena calling them.
"That's totally not fair, they only listen to you." Kate complains and Yelena laughs.
"Because they love me more."
"Lies and deception!" Kate is soon distracted by the golden retriever pulling at her sleeve and gives Yelena a smug look before pouring all of her attention to him.
"Hey, Yelena."
"Hello, [......]. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Uh, I actually had a quick question. When's Natasha’s birthday?"
"Ah. I do not know."
"What?? But you're sisters!"
She shrugs, "She does not want me to know. Birthdays are not really Natasha’s thing, surely you must know that."
"Yeah, I know, it just doesn't make any sense."
"That's Natasha for you."
You sigh in defeat and sit down on one of the armchairs, your lap immediately occupied by Fanny who still wholeheartedly believes she's the size of a puppy.
"Well, there is someone else you could ask."
Your ears perk up, "Who?"
"Melina."
Ah. Melina. It wouldn't be fair to say that she hated you, but it also would be lying to say that she was fond of you. Perhaps you could ask Alexei instead.
___♡___
"Hello? Can you hear me?" You ask over the phone to your future father in law.
"HELLO? ARE YOU THERE, [......]?"
"Yeah, I'm-"
"I THINK MY WHATISUP IS BROKEN- MELINA!"
"No, no, Alexei there's really no need."
You hear the sound of footsteps and Melina scolding Alexei for always forgetting to turn up the volume before she picks up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Ah, hello Melina."
"[........]. Do you need something?"
"When's Natasha’s birthday?"
"December third. Is that all?"
"But- that's today."
"I'm aware."
"Well, thank yo-" The phone cuts off before you finish your sentence and you're left with about two hours to plan a surprise party for a spy.
___♡___
"I did it, Wanda!"
"Only took you half the day."
"Okay, hater, I need you to help me surprise her."
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"One hundered percent." You reply confidently. For most of the day you'd been discouraged, but now it was time for you to trust your gut.
Soon enough you've formed a team of Kate, Yelena and Wanda gathered in one of the common rooms of the tower.
"Alright, Wanda you can be in charge of snacks, Kate you can do decorations, and Yelena you can find us the cake."
"Can-"
"No it may not have profanities on it."
The blonde sighs but jumps into action with the other two. Now all you have to do is buy them some time.
___♡___
You greet Natasha at the tower's entrance with a huge smile plastered on your face.
"Hi, Nat!"
"Hey, [.......]. How was your day?"
"A little hectic. Wanna go for a walk?"
"I would love to but I need to sleep for at least ten hours straight."
You step in front of Natasha as she starts to head inside, "Wait- Uh, did you know walking actually improves energy levels?"
Natasha raises an eyebrow, "What's up with you?"
"Nothing."
"For some strange reason I do not believe that." She holds you in place by your shoulders and steps around you, but you take her arm and try to steer her to the kitchen, your plans are foiled by Lucky and Fanny who bound up to Natasha happily.
"What are Yelena and Kate's kids doing here? Seriously, what is going on?"
"Uhh."
"Insightful."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
She stares you down for a few seconds before suddenly moving towards your shared quarters and only speeds up once she realises you're trying to stop her.
The red head clears the stairs in a few seconds and opens the door, only to be met with pitch black. When she steps through and flicks on the light Wanda, Yelena and Kate jump out from behind the couch and yell "Surprise!".
The look on her face is priceless when she turns to you, "How- when did you-"
"I have my ways."
Natasha pulls you into a tight hug and you hug her back even tighter when you feel a small damp patch forming on your shoulder.
___♡___
"Okay, now make a wish!" Yelena says excitedly, the three of you are crowded around the table where the birthday girl sits in front of her cake.
"Alright, alright." She closes her eyes and blows out the candles, which prompts a cheer from everyone in the room.
The five of you all squish onto the couch to watch a movie and eat snacks and cake, with Natasha curled into your side.
"So, did I 'overdo' it?" You ask playfully.
You hear her chuckle, "It was perfect."
____☆____
Tysm for readinggg, If you liked it I have more stuff in my masterlist :)). Reqs are open!!
Also, if you saw the unfinished version of this when I posted it by accident, no you did not.
@l0nelyish 👁👁
#black widow#natasha romanoff#marvel#white widow#yelena boleva#kate bishop#hawkeye#natasha x reader#natasha x you#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#bishova#birthday#fluff#alexei shostakov#melina vostokoff#marvel fanfiction#black widow fic#natasha x y/n#lucky the pizza dog#fanny belova#domestic avengers#natasharswifeywrites
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Live, Love, Natalie Rushman
Summary: Based on a request by @lynattyx - Natasha and R meet when she's working undercover at Stark Industries.
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
Live Love Legal
The sign was meant to be a graduation joke, but you still placed it on a shelf in your very serious, very corporate office.
Even now, as you were promoted to Senior Associate -the youngest at Stark Industries- and you had a bigger space, with a breathtaking view of Central Park and Midtown Manhattan.
It was your first day, and you were determined to make things right. Top of the list, onboarding Miss Potts’ new paralegal assistant. Your secretary (holy crap, you had a secretary!) had called to informed you she was waiting at the front desk.
“Natalie?” you called, imagining the woman with red hair and black slacks was the new assistant.
Though, you were not prepared for the sight that greeted you when she turned around, striking green eyes and a perfect smile in place.
“You must be Y/N”
The way her raspy voice caressed every syllable of your name almost made you weak in the knees.
But this was work, and you couldn’t lose your shit over the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.
“Yes. Come with me, I’ll show you around”
Pleased with the firmness of your voice, you gave Natalie a tour of the office, pointing at different areas where most meetings took place. You also showed her where to find the information of everyone she might need to contact, and then you went up to Pepper’s office. The short elevator ride was littered with small talk, and you considered a success how your cheeks flushed only once.
“Come in” Pepper said and you opened the door, Natalie right behind you. “Y/N, happy first day as an associate. And you must be Natalie Rushman”
After a brief introduction, you were ready to leave both women to work.
“If you need anything, just let me know” you said to Natalie before going back to your office.
“Anything?” she said with a small smile. Perhaps it was all in your head, or the woman had really managed to make the question sound… loaded.
“Of course” you said, heat going to your cheeks.
Once the elevator doors were shut, you leaned against the wall, wondering if you’d imagined Natalie’s parfume still lingering in the air.
Maybe that sign at your office should read Live Love Lesbian instead.
—
It had been a week - a busy, insane week- but Natalie hadn’t needed your help with anything. While you wanted to feel relief, because you had enough on your plate, you were actually disappointed. Those green eyes and that beautiful voice would not leave your thoughts.
To your displeasure, you weren’t the only one.
“Tony” you said, feeling a headache as you entered your office first thing in the morning and saw him behind your desk, feet up.
“Y/N. How’s the new job going?”
“It would be better if you gave the government some information about those suits. But I will say I love my new parking space”
“Right! New is good” he agreed, not moving from your chair. “Like that new girl. Natalie Rushmore…”
“Rushman” the headache intensified.
“Right, whatever. Isn’t she good?”
“Ask Pepper”
“I mean I did, and she told me to stop before I did anything that might get me sued for harrassment”
“Pepper’s right. You can’t go around sleeping with your employees”
“I was only flirting” he spun around and you had enough, finally kicking him so he’d stand up. “I was never inappropriate to you, right?”
“That’s because I’m gay, Tony”
“And do you think Natalie might be…?” you glared at the man and he was quick to explain. “I hear there’s a sixth sense involved in the whole experience”
“Leave before I throw you out the window, Stark”
“You’re no fun” he complained, winking as he shut the door to your office.
—
The next time you saw Natalie was as you prepared a meeting with new VC investors and the board.
“I need you to place the NDAs in the binder that we’re sending to legal…” Pepper said and Natalie stopped walking. The sudden halt made you turn your attention. It wasn’t hard to understand what that look meant. She had forgotten. Pepper insisted. “You did send the NDAs, right?”
The hardness of her tone made you flinch, and you spoke before thinking about what could happen.
“Actually… I asked Natalie to hold off on that. I wanted to double check the IP section but completely forgot about it. I’m sorry, Pepper”
“Ok, it’s fine” the woman said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just make sure it’s ready before the presentation”
You nodded, and turned to walk down the hall to find the documents. Natalie followed right behind you, and you almost didn’t hear the quiet thank you she whispered your way.
“Don’t mention it”
Truly, you had forgotten all about it by the next day, until you found a latte waiting at your desk.
It was exactly how you took it, and you were very particular about your coffee.
“How…?” you wondered out loud.
“I notice things” Natalie said from the doorway. You flinched, amazed at how stealth she could be.
“And you’re silent. Like a ninja. Or a spy” you drank again, chuckling at the ridiculous comparison. “You didn’t have to, I didn’t do anything”
“This job is very important so it does mean something to me, Y/N”
The way she said your name had you blushing, so you nodded and thanked her.
“Have you noticed the bar around the subway station?” you asked as she turned to leave. “Great food, pool table. It’s fun, if you ever want to stop by”
“Oh, you don’t want to play pool against me” she warned and you chuckled.
And yet, the next week you were both there, eating and drinking past midnight. Natalie wasn’t kidding when she said her aim was impeccable and when you lost the third game in a row, you admitted defeat and offered to buy her coffee and a scone of her choice the day after that.
That’s how it became a bit of a habit, to buy coffee for two on certain mornings. If you knew Natalie had an early morning, you’d be the one to drop off a steaming cup of espresso with a danish scone.
Sometimes, you’d find a cup from the cafe around the corner, your name and a smile srcibbled across it.
You were working overtime to convince yourself that you did not have feelings for her. That the nights at the bar, the coffee or lunch time you spent together was nothing more than a friendship.
Until one night, when you were both working late. Your desk was a mess of scattered paperwork, all thanks to Tony’s idiotic actions. Pepper was the new CEO of Stark Industries while he made mess after mess.
“God, I hate him” you read a complaint filed by the police against Tony, who had gotten drunk and worn his suit during his birthday party.
There was also another thing that bothered you about that night. The memory of Natalie, all laughs and flirty eyes as Tony showed her how the suit worked.
You hadn’t realised how hard you were biting the pen until Natalie called your name.
“You have ink all over your lip” she said with a smile and you brought a hand to your mouth, the liquid leaving a bitter taste.
“Oh my God, is the ink toxic? Am I gonna die?” you panicked, looking around for a napkin. Natalie giggled, approaching with a hankerchief.
“It’s fine. Here” the redhead leaned forward, and you blushed as her soft hands cleaned your lower lip. Natalie held your chin between her thumb and index finger, satisfied with the result.
“Thanks” you said, unable to keep your eyes from going to her lips. The action wasn’t lost on Natalie, and before you could apologize, she leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.
“Now you have ink too” you said, laughing at the small stain on her lip. She smiled against your mouth, but the happinness was short lived as an explosion made you look outside. “Wow. What the hell was that?" you said, turning around.
It looked like drones were chasing after an Iron Man suit. Natalie grumbled and stood up.
"I have to go"
"Nat?" you followed her down the hallway.
The woman was gone, an apologetic look on her eyes as the elevator doors shut.
—
No calls, no messages, nothing. Not even an email.
You asked IT to keep her account active, just in case.
It had been a whole year; and maybe time to give up hope.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Natalie had disappeared right after Vanko had tried to kill Tony. Maybe she’d gotten hurt and someone was covering it up?
Whatever it was, the few times you asked Tony about it, he seemed irritated and quickly changed the subject.
And yet, here you were, still looking for answers, resisting the urge to give up on someone who had, for all intents and purposes, ghosted you.
You sighed, turning to look out the window of your office.
Imagine your shock when you saw a fleet of alien ships flying around New York City.
—
Natasha’s eyes were trained on Stark Tower. Were you there? Had you been able to get somewhere safe?
“Romanoff” Rogers called and she looked around.
“Need a lift” she said, creating a plan. All she had to do was take a small detour to your office and then she’d kick Loki’s stupid ass.
However, as she threw the alien off his own ship, she looked around and realised there was no easy way to land.
“Oh, God!” you shouted as a ship crashed through your window. To your surprise, instead of a weird looking creature, it was being flown by…
“Natalie?” you practically screamed, sure that you were having a fever dream.
“Come on, there’s no time. Let’s take you somewhere safe…”
“The whole city is under attack, that’s kind of impossible right now” you yelled, following her closely. “And what the hell is going on with you? Where have you been? And why are you dressed like that?”
It was hard not to notice the tight unitard that adjusted perfectly to every curve in her body.
“Watch out!” the woman said, pushing you aside. She rounded the corner, preparing her guns and shooting against the aliens. Turning casually to you, she spoke in a calm demeanor, as if discussing what movie to watch. “Would you like the short or long story, detka?”
“I don’t think we have time for long stories, Natalie. Is your real name even Natalie?”
“Well, it’s Natasha Romanoff so… close enough?” she said with a weak smile and you glared.
An arrow flew by and Natasha cursed under her breath. You understood why a second later when an explosion shook the building.
“Clint! I’m at Stark Tower, do not engage!” Natasha held a hand to her ear, speaking through comms. She then turned to you and smiled, leading you by the hand to the emergency stairs. “Where were we?”
“Natasha Romanoff. I guess you’re not a paralegal either… oh my God!” you yelled as you spotted a giant green creature coming up the stairs.
“Hulk, Rogers needs back up” Natasha said, completely unfazed by the monster. “Come here” she asked, taking you to a hallway.
“Nat, a bunch of crazy shit is happening and you’re not losing your mind”
“Well, there’s your next answer. I’m a former assassin, born and raised in Russia. Now a SHIELD agent” once the coast was clear, she made you stand up and follow her to the conference room. “I was working undercover to get some info about Tony’s stupid ass. And then I met you. I was about to ask you out on a date because I like you, but the mission was over and I was instructed not to engage again”
“You like me?” you repeated, ignoring the explosions around the city.
“Out of all the things I just said, that’s the one you’re sticking with?”
“Well, duh. Because I like you too” you smiled, pulling her closer for a kiss.
“Now’s not the time” a metallic voice said. You turned to find Tony floating outside the window and you glared. “I was called for an extraction”
“What?”
“Come on, it’s not safe here. Tony will get you out and I’ll meet you once this is over, ok?”
“You better not disappear on me again, Natasha Romanoff”
“Wouldn’t dream of it” she promised.
Once Tony carried you to a safe part of the city, you waited for him to put you down and remove his helmet to slap the back of his head.
“Why?”
“I asked you about her a million times, Tony. You could have told me why she left so suddenly”
“Now you know. I’ll get you a nice restaurant reservation to make up for it. Gotta go!”
As he flew away, you couldn’t help but smile.
Natasha liked you back.
—
Dust settled and emergency services began to approach the city, aiding with evacuation. Your eyes searched Natasha’s as you walked around.
“Detka”
“Are you ok?” running up to her, you brought your hands to her face. She had a small cut in her forehead and seemed tired, but she was alive.
“Yeah. It was fun”
“Fun? I hope our date doesn’t include this type of fun.”
The woman laughed and pulled you close to her.
"Alien invasions are a six month anniversary kind of thing" she joked. You laughed, but kept your eyes on her cut, looking concerned. “I’m ok, really. Nothing a shower won’t fix”
“How about a kiss?” you offered and she smiled, leaning forward to meet your lips; it was short and sweet. A promise of more to come.
“Let’s go back to my place” you said and Natasha’s eyes widened. “For you to shower. Clean that cut, get some sleep. And then, we’ll talk about that date”
“You have yourself a deal”
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Bunny’s first Christmas
This is part of my 12 days of fics
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Bunny hybrid!Reader
Warnings: rough sex, strap on (r receiving), talks of breeding, pet/owner dynamics, mommy kink, squirting.
Summary: In which you spend your first Christmas with your mommy
Being a bunny hybrid can be hard. But not when you’re owned by Wanda Maximoff. Or mommy as you call her. Mommy takes very good care of her bunny. She spoils you with gifts and love. And she fucks you hard anywhere around the house.
You always walk around in the prettiest little dresses, the light pink collar with tags of your name and her name underneath with a phone number in case you get lost. You love wearing the collar. Gives you contentment that you have an owner. Lots of bunnies don’t have one. And if they do, they’re usually neglected and only are used for sex. While that’s usually why someone would buy a hybrid, they still need to be treated with love and care.
Your ears, long and brown, always standing up and on high alert. Which is why you could hear Christmas Dreaming by Laufey playing in the kitchen.
Curiously, you walked towards the kitchen to find the witch making Christmas cookies. Your nose twitched at the smell and you ran over to her.
“Hi, bunny.” She chirped, scratching behind your ears the way you like it. You hummed.
“Hi mommy.” You responded, “what are you doing?”
“Oh, mommy’s just making some cookies for Christmas. You wanna try one?”
“Yes please.” Gosh, always so polite. Such a good girl. Wanda gave you a cookie and you nibbled on it for a bit. See, you’ve never experienced Christmas before. Being in that god awful hybrid shelter. Sometimes people would donate gifts for the homeless hybrids but that was about it.
“Mmm it’s s’good, mommy.” You moaned.
“Glad you like it, bunny.” Wanda couldn’t help but get turned on at the sounds you were making. And poor you, unaware of what you were doing to your mommy.
But the redhead knew she shouldn’t fuck you right now, since she needs to bake more cookies for Tony’s stupid Christmas party. She’s never resented the billionaire more in her life.
How dare he keep her away from fucking her precious bunny when he’s not even here! She groaned in frustration which caught your ears.
“Mommy…what’s wrong?” You asked timidly, placing the cookie back down on the tray.
“Sorry baby but I’m just so stressed right now. That’s all.”
“Is there something I can do to help?”
Fuck it, Wanda thought, Starks cookies can wait.
“Yeah, actually.” She replied, “Bend over the counter.” You were taken back by her sudden demand, her voice deep and harsh. You quickly bent over the counter, you knew what was going to happen and it made you weak with arousal.
The witch roughly lifted your dress up and pulled your cotton panties down before unbuckling her belt pulling her strap out.
She tapped it against your wet folds, collecting your slick before pounding into you with no warning.
You squealed, holding onto the edge of the counter. Wanda grabbed your hips firmly as she fucked into you. “Holy fuck, you feel so good.” She was proud she was able to come up with a spell that allowed her to feel everything with the strap. She felt your sweet walls clenching around her cock.
“Mommy! Oh so good!” You moaned.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, pet. Gonna breed you so good one day.” Wanda smacked your ass.
“Ahh- oh fuck-“ you cried.
Wanda tugged on your little bushy cottontail which made you moan.
“Oh fuck honey, go ahead and cum for me.” She hissed.
You clenched around her cock, squirting out your release. She groaned, coming to her own orgasm.
Finally, the witch pulled out of you and put your panties back on. And as you stood up she fixed your dress for you.
You turned around and pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Mmm merry Christmas bunny.”
“Merry Christmas, mommy.”
#marvel x reader#marvel smut#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff smut#bunny!reader#Wanda maximoff x bunny!reader#hybrid!reader#12 days of fics
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HOW DID IT END?
How is it that Steve's departure only drove you further apart? How was it possible that the only thing left between you after all was hatred for each other? Maybe these questions could be answered in a therapy session or in a night together.
bucky x fem!reader (angst, smut with plot, lovers to enemies to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)
—James, condition of your release, session now.
You looked at Bucky and he looked back at you, pressing his lips together and starting to walk after his therapist, annoyed.
—You too, young lady.
—That's okay, I can wait here with Sam.
—It wasn't a request. Sam, you have front-row seats for the show if you like—. The demanding tone in her voice surprised you and you had no choice but to follow her.
The therapist sat down at the table and opened her notebook. You and Bucky were at the other side of the table, sitting next to each other and in front of the woman. You didn't look at each other, you had not even shared a word. Sam, who was leaning against the wall behind the therapist, looked at both of you and shook his head. Steve was right when he said that you were both equally stubborn.
—So, who would like to start?
—I don't even know what I'm doing here. This is ridiculous.
—Yeah, I agree —. Bucky added.
—See? Making progress already —. She waited a few seconds to see if either of you would like to talk but you and Bucky remained silent. Dr. Raynor sighed, if it was already difficult to deal with him alone, it would be twice as difficult to deal not only with Bucky but also with a copy of him as a woman. —It is my job to make sure you're okay. And yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional but it's the only way that I can see if you're getting over whatever's eating at you.
You huffed a laugh and Bucky rolled his eyes. Whatever's eating at you? What could possibly be eating at you? There was nothing that-
—So, why don't you both start by telling me what kind of relationship you had with Steve Rogers?
Your expression changed completely when you heard his name. Bucky looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, Sam's eyes also went to you as he tensed his back when Dr. Raynow brought Steve up out of nowhere. Bucky decided to start talking but you couldn't hear what he was saying, you could only focus on how tense your jaw was, the knot in your stomach, and all the anger you were feeling.
Just as it was a relief for Bucky to think and talk about Steve, it hurt you. There was never anything romantic about your friendship with Steve, it was purely based on your devotion to him and your mutual admiration and respect.
When you lost Bucky and Steve crashed into the ice, you had no reason to live but before your heart stopped beating, Howard Stark found you and injected you with the serum. And when you woke up there was only Steve, seventy years later and just as confused as you, living in a century that did not belong to you.
You were together during the whole process of readjusting to your new lives. For Steve, you joined a group of people who called themselves the Avengers and fought against the god of mischief in New York. For Steve, you were almost killed by a robot in Sokovia. For Steve, you fought the Winter Soldier. For Steve, you sided against Tony Stark, the son of the man who brought you back to life, and for Steve, you fought, lost, fought again, and won against Thanos.
They say there is no worse heartbreak than that caused by a friend and Steve Rogers stole a piece of your heart when he left.
—Thank you, James. What can you tell us about Steve? —Dr. Raynor asked you.
You shook your head, your eyes fixed on one spot. The feeling of betrayal when Steve didn't return within the five seconds set by Bruce still haunted you. —I will never forgive him.
Bucky shook his head as well, he turned to look at you. —You know, Dr. Raynor? I've met her for more than seventy years now and one thing that hasn't changed about her is how selfish she is.
—James, we are not here to make value judgments about the feelings experienced by the other person.
The condescending tone in Bucky's voice made you close your eyes and take a deep breath before you talked. —You were captured by HYDRA, tried to kill us, then went into cryogenic sleep and disappeared with the snap. I don't expect you to understand what I'm going through since you never lost Steve because you never had him.
—He was my best friend! —Bucky raised his tone and turned in his chair to look at you.
—You don't even remember a single thing of him before he became Captain America!
Sam called your name. That wasn't Bucky's fault.
—He left because that was the life he fought so many years for! That's the life Steve deserved!
—He was my best friend too! We were together all these years while you were killing people and I had to watch him go! —You did the same as him. That was the first time you looked at each other since the session started and you were yelling at each other. Sam didn't miss any part of the argument, he was with his arms crossed and paying attention to everything you were saying to each other. How could two people who had loved each other so much end up like this?
—Okay, that's enough —. The doctor stopped you before it went any further. You and Bucky rested your backs on the chair again, defeated, and your eyes focused on the therapist. —Since this isn't working, we're going to do an exercise. It's something I use with couples when they're trying to figure out what kind of life they wanna built together —. The doctor added. Bucky rolled his eyes and you closed yours while shaking your head.
—You are acting as if you were never a couple —Sam said.
—Back in 1940.
—Yeah, eighty-two years ago.
You both said at the same time.
—Come on, turn around, look at each other.
Both of you hesitated for a few seconds but finally turned to face each other. His blue eyes were fixed on yours, it was difficult to keep eye contact with him.
—The exercise is called Everytime I look at you and consists of saying something that you feel or see in the other person every time you look at them. Why don't you start?
As you looked at Bucky, you could see the young soldier, wearing his new uniform proudly and hanging a copy of his dog tag around your neck. Looking into Bucky's eyes you felt again the last kiss he gave you before falling from the train, you heard his last laugh before he was brainwashed by HYDRA, you could even feel the caress of his fingers on your skin before the vibranium covered one of his hands.
—Every time I look at you, you have that lost puppy look on your face, asking for people's sympathy. I can't even look at you because every time I do, your mere presence reminds me that Steve's no longer here and it makes me want to fucking die, and sometimes I wish-
Sam called your name and you stopped talking before you could finish the sentence. Bucky's eyes never left yours. You were saying all that to his face.
—Let her finish, Sam —. Dr. Raynor said.
There was a silence.
—And sometimes I wish you were gone instead of him.
As Bucky looked at you, he could see the young lady he fell in love with even though everything he remembered about her was gone. The sparkle in that girl's eyes could no longer be found in yours, but he couldn't forget how your eyes shone as he wrapped his arms around your waist to dance. Bucky did not forget the sound of your laughter when he told you that he would marry you after the war, even though he was totally serious.
—Every time I look at you I don't recognize you. You have changed for the worse and I'm not sure if I like this version of you. You are mean, you don't allow people to get close to you and you hide and say that it's Steve's fault for leaving. But let me just say...
Bucky could see how you dealt with sadness by turning it into anger, he knew it because he did the same thing. Your jaw tightened and you closed your fists so hard that your fingernails dug into the palms of your hands. You didn't want him to say it, but at the same time, you couldn't wait to hear it.
—... that being a bitch isn't going to bring him back.
As soon as Bucky finished the sentence, you got up from the chair and left the room slamming the door. He didn't react to you leaving, he just sat in the chair asking himself the same question as Sam. How did you come to this? How could two people who had loved each other so much end up like this? Sam tried to go after you but he could not keep up with your super soldier speed so he went back to the police station with Bucky and gave him the same look of disappointment that Steve would have given him.
That same night someone knocked on your front door.
You thought it would be Sam because he had been calling you nonstop since you left and you had been ignoring him all day long but when you opened the door, you found Bucky instead.
He took a step closer to you to go inside your house and your hand connected firmly with his cheek. The skin on his face burned right where you had hit him and your body was blocking the doorway. He was just as angry as you were so he gave you a strong push on your shoulders. You managed to keep your balance and he managed to get inside the house and close the door behind him.
Bucky towered you with a challenging attitude, keeping eye contact while forcing you to take a few steps backward. You, despite being shorter than him, did not lower your head. Your breathing was heavy, the tension was too much, you wanted to hit him again and you wanted to say worse things to him than what you said in the therapy session.
When you raised your hand to slap him again, he grabbed your arm with his vibranium hand and squeezed hard enough for it to hurt but you did not give him the pleasure of expressing the pain. The tension was overwhelming. There were only two ways to solve this, either he would let go of your arm and start a fight that wouldn't end until both of you were on the floor exhausted and bleeding, or...
Your bodies collided as you pressed your lips together. Bucky held your face with both hands while his lips devoured yours as your hands pulled on the hem of his shirt. He lifted his arms so you could take it off and in that moment you took a few seconds to admire his well-defined abs. He leaned in for another kiss but you pushed him by his shoulder, strong enough for his back to hit against a wall of your house and crack it. Before he could complain, you connected your lips with his again.
Bucky's fingers closed around your neck as a response. Your mouth opened against his lips, trying to get the air that he was keeping from reaching your lungs and Bucky's tongue went pass your lips.
You took a big breath of air once he let go of your neck and he began to unbutton your jeans. He would never admit it but he made sure that you were okay and that he had not taken it too far, especially when your hands went to his shoulders to keep your balance due to the dizziness. And when Bucky thought he had control over you, your fingernails slid painfully from his shoulders to his abdomen and he groaned.
Bucky threw his head back against the wall once your finger sneaked into his jeans and wrapped around his cock. You moved your hand cruelly slow, he had his eyes closed as he bit his lower lip to hold back his moans. You ran your tongue along his collarbone until you reached his earlobe. —I fucking despise you —. You whispered in his ear. He let out a moan and immediately clenched his jaw again. You felt his hips thrust into your hand.
—Fucking same, doll —. Bucky muttered through gritted teeth.
He brought his hands to your ass and squeezed it as he helped you to wrap your legs around his body. Your lips met again as he walked you to the big wooden table in your living room where he helped you to lie down. Bucky pulled his jeans down enough to free his hard cock while you opened your legs to him. He noticed the wet spot on your panties and you noticed the red marks that your fingernails had carved on his chest. As he pulled your panties to the side, your fingers ran over those marks and Bucky hissed.
The head of his cock was more than enough to stretch you open. You repositioned yourself at the table, now sitting up on your elbows to watch as he pushed himself inside of you. You thought he would give you a few seconds to get used to the feeling, but he didn't stop until he was balls deep inside you.
—Now you take it. Make it up for that attitude —. You whined at his words and Bucky rested his forehead against yours while his hips thrusted into yours.
You encircled your legs around his waist and hooked your ankles over the swell of his ass while he kept slamming his hips into you. At that point you couldn't even think straight, he was hitting all the right spots to make your mind foggy. His pace remained fast and hard, and you thought about the serum running through your veins and how you both could keep up with that pace all night long.
Bucky tucked his head into your neck and whispered the filthiest words into your ear, his hands were on your thighs, squeezing your flesh lustfully, he pulled his dick all way out and then pushed in again until his balls were against your pussy. Your fingers tugged his brown hair at the root, getting moans from him because of your tight grip as it encouraged him to fuck you even harder. If that was how hating you felt, he wanted to hate you for all eternity.
When he heard you moaning and whimpering uncontrollably, when your legs fought to close and squeezed his body, when he felt your nails digging into the skin of his back, Bucky pushed your legs up, hooking your legs over his shoulders, and kept fucking you in that position until it became harder and harder for him to keep going because of the tightness of your pussy. You came screaming his name and spasming around him, Bucky came a few seconds later, with a deep groan that made his chest vibrate and emptying himself inside you.
The next morning, when his alarm went off, Bucky was alone in your bed. He took his time to take a shower and grab something from your kitchen for breakfast before he left. Bucky walked to his therapist's office, trying not to give much importance to what happened last night and especially trying not to think about all the horrible things you said to each other earlier that day in front of Sam and Dr. Raynor.
When he entered the office, Dr. Raynor was not alone. Bucky almost apologized and closed the door again, thinking he interrupted someone's session, but then you turned around in your chair and looked at him. He looked back at you, surprised, from the doorway.
You were already inside, now it was up to him to decide whether to go in with you. Bucky didn't have to think about it, he closed the door behind him and sat down in the chair next to you. You wanted to give yourselves a chance, for your sake, for Steve's sake, and for trying to get back what you two once had.
—Let's try again, shall we? —Dr. Raynor asked with a smile.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky fluff#bucky smut#bucky angst#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x you#sebastian stan#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#winter soldier smut#marvel smut#marvel fluff#marvel angst#avengers smut#avengers angst#avengers fluff
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| DEVIOUS LIES — Part one (3.842 words).
| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.
| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation.
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Part one. Part two. Part three.
“I am really not sure we should do that, Stark”, you repeated for what may be the tenth time since you picked up the phone, “it sounds like a really, really, bad idea, and you know, I am not sure sh~”
“Come on!” he said, cutting short your ramblings.
Your thoughts are racing, your mind imagining all the things that could go wrong. It is an endless series of “what ifs” that is only stopped by Tony’s voice. You both knew that if he lets you think too much, he would lose his battle. It’s a risky plan he wants to drag you in.
“I am sure you are dying to say yes,” he added when you didn’t answer him, and you could hear his petty smile through the phone. As he sensed that you were about to accept, the man tried to convince you with one last argument, “she won’t know anything, I promise. None of them will, I thought about everything,” he assured you, and you believed him.
He was right, you wanted to say yes, but you couldn’t get yourself to say the word aloud. There are too many ways for it to end badly, and you really don’t need to make your situation worse than it already is. Two years ago, you lost everything. None of your teammates tried to understand your situation, they didn’t give you a chance to explain what happened. Instead, they threw you away from the team, and the tower, without giving it a second thought, as if you were just garbage.
Maybe that’s what you are.
Sometimes, when you think about the events, you surprise yourself by siding with them. It’s easier to think that you deserve what they are doing to you than to accept the injustice of the situation, which you can’t do anything about. After all, the proof was against you. You’ve seen the pictures, everyone has seen them, and they felt so real that your certainties have faltered. How to convince them that you are innocent when you are not even sure yourself? Eventually, you gave in, it is a battle you couldn’t win.
“When is it, already?” you sighed, eventually giving in. An argument against Tony Stark was another battle you knew you couldn’t win.
The man has been the only exception. He has watched over you from afar, and believed your version of the events. For once, he has listened, and it means the world to you. So even if you try to not wince at the enthusiasm he lets out on the other end of the phone, a part of you is happy. It doesn’t matter if things don't go well, at least that would have pleased the billionaire, and you owe it to him, even if you couldn’t match his enthusiasm, too anxious for that.
For a second, you thought about changing your mind. Your fingers were a centimeter away from the interphone, but you haven’t rung the bell yet. It would be so easy to listen to your instinct that is screaming at you to run away. It would be so easy to break the promise you’ve made to Tony, he wouldn’t mind right? Yes, despite the disappointment, he would understand that you couldn’t do that. It was too early and too much. You shouldn’t even have taken that call, it is always a bad idea to trust a billionaire, especially when his last name is Stark.
The last time you’ve set foot in the Avengers Tower, it has been two years ago. You haven’t seen them since, only their pictures in the news. One time, you’ve thought about going to one of those press conferences they hold sometimes, but you knew you wouldn’t be welcome — Maybe they even added your name to the list of bans. You aren’t welcome anywhere near them, they made it clear when they threw you away.
It is as if all the years spent by their side have been erased. Even the world seems to have forgotten your name. It is almost as if you have never been a part of the Avengers, as if you’ve never existed, and it was just something you mind made.
Maybe it’s for the best, you thought.
Yet, here you are. In front of the building you left years ago, promising to yourself that you’ll never come back in here. That day, you felt so humiliated that you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t add the shame to crawl back at their feet, begging for their forgiveness. No, no matter how bad you were craving to throw yourself in their arms, you won’t. Never, ever. Except that, sometimes, circumstances change, and you find yourself unable to refuse your friend’s crazy invitation, despite the dangerousness of his plan.
“Pl- please, ‘tasha, let me ex~,” you were begging the woman. It wasn’t your kind but exceptional situations call for exceptional reactions, and the one you found yourself in certainly was.
Tears aren’t your style either, nor it’s Natasha’s. Yet, both of your cheeks are stained with them, your eyes reddened. She is angry, and you are frustrated. She is full of hatred, and you are full of despair. But, today, something broke in both your hearts.
“Shut up,” she said firmly, not giving you a chance to explain yourself. She didn’t want to hear a word from your bullshit. None of them want to. “You’ve lost the right to call me that way,” she added, spitting every one of those hate-filled words in your face, “honestly, you’ve even lost the right to talk to me. I don’t want to hear your voice or to see your face ever again. Did I make myself clear?” she yelled. You would have never thought that she could speak to you in such an angry, hateful tone, and yet, here you are.
She has, indeed, made her intentions clear. When you came home, you found your clothes scattered on the pavement in front of the tower. She hasn’t waited for your explanations before deciding to throw all your belongings away. You were quick to follow them, you barely stepped into the building that she was here to drag you out of the building.
You have never seen your loved one in such a state. She isn’t even acknowledging your pleas for her to slow down, or at least to loosen her grip on your arm. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care anymore if you were hurt, or if you were stumbling on your feet — If she had to drag you out by the hair, she would do it without hesitating.
The Natasha that was scared she could hurt you was long gone. She wasn’t the one that swore to protect you anymore, you’ve seen in her gaze that the promises she made no longer stand. She has a stern, harsh expression painted on her face, and it was your fault. She hadn’t hit you, not yet, but you could still feel how her nails are digging into your skin, leaving a mark that will stay for days. It is a reminder of what you’ve lost that day, not that you could forget.
A second later, you collide with concrete. She throws you on the ground, alongside your belongings, with all the strength she has — And she is a former russian spy, so she’s got plenty. The force of the gesture causes you to stumble over your own feet and fall, scraping your hands and knees in the process. You don’t even try to get up. Dejected, you remain on the ground, barely daring to turn around to see her one last time.
“Don’t you dare to come back, you are not welcome here anymore,” she said before walking away, and disappearing behind the doors of the tower. You wanted to say something but the words didn’t come out, nothing you could say felt right.
It is the last time you’ve seen her, and as pitiful as it is, you have long cherished this last contact with the redhead. No matter how violent and hateful it has been, it was still the last time you’ve touched the love of your life, and you missed it the moment she let go of your arm. Her, and her touch. Despite everything, despite the years, you still needed her presence by your side, and it doesn’t matter if your relationship has to be brutal, you are ready to accept anything if it means being close to her for a few more days.
The rest of the team stayed here until you left. Your eyes met theirs, pleading them to at least say something, but you didn’t get the help you were looking for, their hatred toward you matching Natasha’s. Clint, Steve and Sam, they are all people that you thought were your friends, except they didn’t hesitate a second before siding with the redhead.
Steve has been the first one to leave, almost running after the woman. Before they disappear in the elevator, you’ve caught his hand resting on her shoulder. You should be the one to touch her like that, the one to hold and comfort her, but this right has been taken from you, and maybe you deserve it. You broke the trust she put in you, one that she doesn’t grant easily.
You’ve always known it was a bad idea. In fact, since the moment he suggested that you should come to Natasha’s birthday, you’ve had a bad feeling about it. He thought that it would help you, knowing that you had been living in isolation since you’ve left the team, and a part of you believed him. The same part that never stopped hoping that things could go back to the way they were.
Until today.
If there is something you’ve learned from that experience, it’s that things will never be as they were because it’s nothing more than a pipe dream. The past two years, you have continuously dreamed about that moment, when you would eventually see her again. You’ve even made up a whole apology speech, one that would erase all your mistakes, and if it’s not enough, then maybe you would have begged them until they forgive you — Promises be damned. In any case, it would have ended with a hug with Natasha, a happy reunion after all those years spent apart.
Except that none of that happened, because reality isn’t fiction, and you don’t deserve a happy ending. To be fair, you could have never imagined that the reunion would go like this, that you wouldn’t even be able to exchange a word with them because they had no idea that you were here. You couldn’t have imagined that the barriers you have built over the last few years would crumble the moment you set foot in the tower that once was your home.
The tears were streaming down your face, hidden behind that ridiculous mascot costume Tony had forced you to wear. He assured you that it was all part of his plan, the one that’s supposed to make everything better, but honestly, you’ve never felt so ridiculous and pitiful than when you put on that costume that’s supposed to look like a cartoon version of Natasha. That is the genius idea Tony’s came up with a few weeks ago ; having you wear a suit so that you could attend Natasha’s birthday party without anyone knowing.
You thought that you were strong enough to face them, but it turned out that you weren’t. There is nothing that hurts more than realizing you are nothing more than a stranger in your own house. An intruder, that’s exactly what you are. You should enjoy the moment, but you can’t, your heart races, fearing they could guess you’re the one behind the costume.
You were watching them from the corner of the terrace where you found refuge after giving them a little show, and you noticed that all of them, without exception, had a bright smile on their faces. You should be glad that they overcame the difficulties of life, right?
Then why is the only thing you are feeling agonizing jealousy?
Because you were slowly realizing that things changed after you left them, and maybe it was for the best. That’s what you’ve heard them saying in an interview they held a few months after your departure — “Yes, the team has undergone some changements, and we believe it’s for the best” — and maybe they were right, because you don’t remember seeing them being so peaceful in the past. They never clearly said that you’ve been banned from the team, nor they talked publicly about the events that lead to your departure, but people weren’t stupid, they guessed that it was because of something you did.
All days are the same since.
You wake up early, but it’s not the sign of a healthy life, only of a light sleep that is disturbed by the slightest noise and glint of sunlight. The thought of a new day only makes you sigh, what’s the point when every day is the same? They are all filled with loneliness and misery, and you are not sure you have the strength to deal with that, so you don’t move an inch, waiting for the night to come again.
Sometimes, you get out of the bed you’ve been rotting in, but it’s not before you are so hungry that your whole body is uncontrollably shaking. That's the only time you leave the darkness of your flat, when you go to that small shop at the end of the street to get something to eat. You would buy anything and everything here, but especially junk food that can be eaten quickly. Most of the time, it’s PastaBox or anything with chocolate, the papers piling up in the kitchen as the days go by, but you’ve never had the heart to take down the overflowing bin.
Waking up, rotting in bed, eating a bit if you are really hungry, going back to rot in your bed, then crying until Morpheus comes to get you, that’s now what your days are.
It’s a strange situation. You have mourned people before, but never someone who’s still alive, never your whole life, never yourself. You are still alive. You know it because you are still breathing and your heart is beating, but it feels like you are not anymore. You don’t even want to cry anymore, you are just laying here, waiting for something to happen, anything. Maybe death. Maybe it’ll eventually come for you, and that moment will be the sweetest. It would be a relief, and not only for yourself.
You don’t want to think about the fact that it may not be. What would be the point in suffering if it’s not to get a threat at the end? The possibility that nothing will come after that life feels unfair, and scary. When you are not finding comfort in your death, you are looking for it by imagining a universe where your life with Natasha wouldn’t have ended that way, where none of that happened.
These are the thoughts that lull you to sleep every night, but the next day, when you wake up, the ache in your heart is back. It never seems to fade away, the pain being as strong as it was on the first day. If anything, it got worse. You are aware that every day that passes takes you further away from those ideals, dashing your hopes of getting your old life back. Your despair grew as you realized that all you were doing was pulling away from the love of your life, and there was nothing you could do to get her back.
What is going to happen when you’re going to forget about how it feels being close to her?
What if you forget everything? Her voice, smile, and the smell of her clothes?
The few times you are getting out of your apartment, you are walking with your head down, hiding behind the hood of your sweatshirt, and today isn’t an exception. The weather isn’t that cold, but the collar of your sweatshirt is still up to your chin, leaving only your eyes for the world to see. The ones that are fixed to your feet, avoiding to look around.
You used to do that to avoid paparazzi and insistent fans the days you were too tired to interact with the world, but you are now doing it to avoid problems. Your face and name have been all over the news after, and not for good reasons. People had no idea what had really happened, but their imaginations had no trouble imagining the worst and spreading rumors. It has been years, but the world still hasn't forgiven you for things you’ve never done.
In a few days, the way people see you changed drastically. You went from being one of the country’s greatest heroes to being canceled. The smiles turned into hateful looks, compliments into insults, and although no one has tried to hit you, you prefer to keep a low profile. The fall has been painful, but it isn’t surprising.
How could you expect strangers to believe you when even your oldest friends didn’t?
You have never been their favorite anyway, and you are perfectly aware of that. You are not a former spy, nor are you a genius or an enhanced human. You have nothing special, and the world knows your name only because of your teammates. It’s not a big surprise that they prefer them, and decided to side with the real Avengers.
But maybe they’re right. Maybe things are better that way, because you are not sure you deserve being loved. What you’ve tried to say to ‘tasha is true, you can’t remember what happened that night — At least, not the details that matters —, and that is the worst in your situation. The doubt creeping inside of you, and the guilt mixed with the frustration because you're as likely to be innocent as guilty.
Did you do it?
Did you cheat on her for real?
You are walking as fast as you can, only wanting to get home as quickly as possible, shaking your head in an attempt to get rid of those poisonous thoughts. You didn’t stay long at the party, barely half an hour has elapsed before you decided that you had enough. At least you’ve seen her blowing the candles, even if you left without saying a word to the woman. The thought crossed your mind for a second before you decided it was safer not to break the peace she had built up.
She deserves to be happy, even if it means that you are not a part of her life anymore.
The only trace of your passage that you have left is a black box. You have hesitated to leave it on the pile of gifts, as she would know it was from you, but it didn’t feel right to keep for yourself the gift you were supposed to give her two years ago. It isn’t yours. You wished you could have stayed longer, just to see her reaction when she opens the box, just to see her smile one last time, to make her smile one last time before saying goodbye forever.
That night, you’ve been crying uncontrollably, and so did you the following days until you have no more tears to shed. Gladly, thanks to Fury, you have a bed to spend your days in. The man has been kind enough to pay for your rent until things get back to normal — That’s the promise he has made to you, that he will quickly find a solution.
A new place for you to work at, in another country, far from everything you’ve known, where you weren’t hated by everyone: that’s the solution he came up with. “The furthest you are from the Avengers, the better it is. At least for a few months, we need things to calm down,” he told you that day, and you agreed. Not that you had a choice because if you had, maybe you would’ve said no. But there was no choice but to accept to leave everything you’ve ever known behind you — Your family, your friends, your memories.
Did you for real?
That story is sticking to your skin, and the memories to your mind. Whenever you are going, people are glancing at you, and you are sure it’s because they know. Whenever you are going, all you can see is a glimpse of your past, ghosts that are haunting your present. The world will never forget, nor forgive your mistakes, and you understand them, because you don’t think you can either.
Every morning, when you wake up, it is the first thing you are thinking about. Every night, when you are about to sleep, it is the last one, until it becomes an obsession. Except it didn’t give you your memories back. The opposite has even happened, your mind confusing what you remember with what you've been told, trying to fill the gaps.
At one point, you were so desperate that you almost asked Fury, or Tony, if they didn’t have some technology that could help you to recover your memories. You’ve even thought about asking Wanda, but it was impossible to reach the woman, and maybe it’s for the best. You can’t deny that a part of you is scared of what you might find. You’ve once read that, sometimes, the brain keeps some memories away for a good reason — It is a response to trauma.
But for you, you were sure it was alcohol. You don’t remember how many drinks you had that night, but probably a lot if you can’t remember how the evening ended. The last thing you remember is talking with Astrid, one of your colleagues from SHIELD that invited you for a drink. The next time you remember is when you wake up in that motel. From the moment you opened your eyes, everything happened so fast.
You couldn’t take your eyes out of the pictures which were hung up all over the offices, you even kept some of those. But they are the worst. The thing you can see on those, the two of you in that stupid bed, her kissing your throat, and even more, it feels so foreign. Your brain refuses to accept that you are the one in the pictures. Yet, it's undeniable proof of what you've done that night.
You are so lost that it hurts your brain.
Sometimes, you wish that someone was here. Anyone that would take your hand, and guide you through this story. Most of the time, you imagine that it’s her, Natasha. That she is here, holding you in her arms, whispering in your ears that everything is going to be okay, exactly as she used to do.
Then, you realize that she is not here, and everything crumbles again.
| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING
| Part one. Part two. Part three.
| Taglist — @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0
#a spes writing#devious lies#reader insert#natasha romanoff x reader#mcu fanfiction#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff angst#angst without comfort#mcu women#avengers fanfiction#avengers x reader#anon request
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Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Warnings: oral (f receiving), handjob, sub Loki, edging & overstimulation, forced submission kinda, hair pulling, a lil choking, I hope that's everything lol
Genre: smut and I guess fluff
Summary: You make Loki realize something about himself that he was not expecting to learn.
***
You plop down on the couch with your bowl of chips, getting comfortable to watch TV.
"Are you out here by yourself?" Loki's voice surprises you. You hadn't heard him come down the hall.
"Yeah." You glance at him over your shoulder with a shrug.
"Why?" His eyes narrow.
"I'm watching TV. You are familiar with that particular activity aren't you?"
"Yes I am, but why out here alone?" Loki rolls his eyes before sticking his head into the fridge.
"I wanted to leave my room. You're welcome to join me." You shrug.
"Why would I do that?" He scoffs.
"Believe it or not, some people enjoy doing things with other people in different spaces, you awkward little hermit." You roll your eyes. You walk over to the kitchen for a drink, realizing you forgot one.
"I am not a hermit." Loki crosses his arms. You grab a soda and walk over to Loki, leaning in close enough that he leans back suspiciously.
"This is the first time you've been out your room in like a week." You tell him.
"That is not true!" He steps away from you indignantly.
"It is, and that's fine. If that's how you like to live, I'm not judging you for it. But for me anyway, a change of scenery is good for the mind." You shrug walking back over to the couch.
"That doesn't make an ounce of sense."
"To each their own." You hum.
"You are a strange woman."
"Because I'm watching TV?" You tilt your head curiously.
"You spend your time so differently from everyone else here." He says.
"Yeah believe it or not I am an individual."
"That's not what I meant."
"No?"
"I just meant that most of the tower is left unoccupied from day to day, except you, you seem to- be everywhere." He frowns.
"If you're content never leaving your room that's fine, like I said I prefer a change of scenery. Helps mark the passage of time when we're not off saving the world." You shrug.
"There is next to nothing worth doing on this miserable planet."
"You are ridiculously negative." You chuckle, pressing play on your movie of choice for tonight. Clearly, this conversation with Loki is over, you have no interest in going back and forth about his cynicism. You hear him take a sharp breath, if you had to guess it's like one of those breaths you take before speaking but he doesn't say anything and eventually you hear his shoes along the floor and you smirk as you check that he is indeed gone.
It's not necessarily that you enjoy getting under Loki's skin the way you so obviously do, but it is rather easy and no one else speaks to him, which is kind of sad. To be clear you don't pity him, in fact this back and forth he reluctantly engages in is you refusing to treat him any different than you would anyone else on the team. It just so happens that he's easy to rile up and you find it funny but really this is just you being inclusive.
"You know y/n I don't get how you do it." Tony drunkenly says. It's supposed to be game night but after an hour Tony's of course too drunk to play so now you're all just talking.
"How I do what, Stark?" You ask.
"Deal with reindeer games the way you do."
"Reindeer ga- do you mean Loki?" You blink at him. You're not even sure how the group ended up on the subject, he's not here. How long were you checked out of the conversation?
"Yes obviously." He scoffs.
"It would be obvious if you used his name. Why are we talking about him, anyway?"
"Tony decided the next topic of conversation would be the team and somehow we got to how Loki is pretty much a recluse." Natasha explains to you.
"Exceeeept he talks to you. How does that work?" Tony asks.
"I dunno man I just poke fun at him like I do the rest of you and wait til he gets red in the face." You shrug.
"You mess with him on purpose?" Thor frowns.
"No, no! Not- really? He just, okay I don't try to get under his skin exactly, it's just when he engages with me, it seems like he expects hostility. I just give him back what I get from him and I don't think he knows how to handle that. But he keeps talking to me so I guess something about it gets through to him."
"That's very weird." Tony says.
"You're really in no place to judge Tony, we all know your list of idiosyncrasies is practically never ending." You roll your eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Is idiosyncrasies too big a word for our resident mad scientist?" You ask.
"I know what the word idiotsinkities means." He scoffs.
"Right." You hum. The others burst into laughter at Tony's slurred attempt at defending himself. It seems to be enough to change the subject and the rest of the night proceeds without another weird interrogation- especially once Tony passes out.
You lean against the wall as you listen to this guy, Jack, talk. He's close enough for you to smell his cologne, mostly to be heard over the music and the crowd of partygoers. You laugh at some silly joke of his, because he's cute and you'll probably end up making out with him in a quiet corner of the tower later if he doesn't say something stupid before you make that decision. The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention from your conversation. Loki is standing there with his arms crossed and faced squeezed.
"Oh? Look who's come out to play." You muse.
"Do you know this guy?" Jack frowns.
"Jack, this is Loki, he's on the team. Loki this is my new friend Jack. Don't be rude, say hello." You nod your head towards Jack. Loki narrows his eyes as if sizing Jack up.
"Hey man. Nice to meet you." Jack puts his hand out to Loki.
"I don't shake hands." Loki says.
"Right- did you need something? We were, kind of talking." Jack says.
"I don't care what you were doing." Loki rolls his eyes.
"Play nice Loki." You say, practically singing the warning.
"I'm not a dog." Loki glares at you.
"Well don't go around snarling like one." You snap.
"Is something- going on between you two?" Jack frowns.
"No." You say firmly.
"Alright well I'm going to get another drink, do you want anything?" He asks.
"Just you back here soon." You wink at him.
"I'll be as quick as I can." Jack kisses your cheek and walks off while Loki breathes incredibly noticeably agitated as he rolls his eyes ago.
"Alright Loki, what is your problem?" You scoff.
"He looks like a jungle cat."
"Really? I don't see jungle cat honestly, he kind of looks like a deer to me." You hum.
"Not in his appearance I mean the way he was closing in on you, like a lion waiting to attack a gazelle." He frowns.
"What? You don't think I can handle the big scary man Loki? Don't insult me, I've killed things that would eat him for an afternoon snack." You scoff.
"It's not that I think you can't handle him. Something about him was just- off. Didn't like his energy."
"Something was off? You didn't like his energy? Really that's what we're going with?" With a hand on his chest you press Loki against the wall.
"What else could I possibly be going with?" Loki tries to keep his voice steady, but with your hand now trailing down his abdomen you can feel muscles tensing under your touch.
"Truthfully I think somebody didn't quite enjoy seeing me pay so much attention to Jack. Don't worry Loki, he couldn't possibly replace you." You hum.
"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffs. You smirk as your hand dances lower and you watch him go stock still when your fingers trace along the waistband of his pants.
"You won't get anywhere by lying to me you know." You say. His mouth drops open slightly as you curl your fingers for your nails to gently caress his skin. "Do you want me to stop Loki?" You whisper in his ear teasingly. As if a bucket of ice water was dumped on him you watch Loki jump back out of your reach and clear his throat before walking off with a glare. You frown as you watch him go, perhaps you pushed too far this time. You think you need to apologize. You start to make your way through the crowd and somehow get caught by Jack.
"Hey, where are you off to?" He asks.
"Looking for you actually, I need a bathroom but I didn't want you to think I was leaving you hanging. If you go back to our little corner I will find you again shortly, alright?" You tap his chest and bat your eyelashes before spinning away from him to continue your task of tracking Loki down. You pop into the nearest empty room.
"Friday, where the hell did Loki go?" You ask her. The tower is huge and since you lost sight of him while talking to Jack it could take you forever to find him on your own.
"He's on the Balcony lounge at the end of the hall upstairs." Friday tells you.
"Thank you!" You tell her, heading for the stairs. Sure enough, there's Loki brooding on the balcony by himself. You slide open the door and Loki's head whips around. When his eyes settle on you, they narrow.
"I've had it with your games tonight." He says.
"No games. I actually wanted to apologize." You say.
"For what?" He regards you suspiciously.
"If I went too far just now. I'm never trying to make you uncomfortable with the teasing. If I crossed a line I want you to know I wasn't trying to and I respect your boundaries." You say gently.
"You think that made me uncomfortable?" He scoffs.
"Well you did quite literally run away."
"You do realize I'm a god, don't you?"
"So what?" You shrug.
"People worship me y/n."
"People worship me too Loki. Shall I start calling myself a goddess?" You cross your arms.
"Of course not." Loki looks at you incredulously.
"Well I'm just saying darling if you're quantifying your power here by being worshiped there are people who would tell you I am the path to heaven. Or, I suppose for you it would be Valhalla, right?" You tilt your head.
"That's rather presumptuous."
"Don't misunderstand here. I never asked them to deify me but who am I to deny those who believe I know the entrance heaven's gate?"
"And where is that?"
"Heaven's gate?" You chuckle, quirking an eyebrow up at him. "I don't think you can handle the answer to that question Loki, truthfully."
"You have no idea what I can handle." He frowns.
"I'm sure you're very capable honey but you've made it clear that you and I have... very different types." You say.
"What's that supposed to mean?" The frown deepens.
"Why did you run off? If you weren't uncomfortable, what made you run and hide?" You ask.
"How does this pertain to my question?" Loki shakes his head.
"My question is the answer to yours."
"I don't follow."
"Answer the question, and I'll offer an explanation." You say. Loki lets out a harsh breath through his nose.
"Your behavior, is disarming."
"And you don't like being disarmed?" You tilt your head.
"It's not something I'm used to."
"Right." You hum.
"So?"
"So?"
"You said if I answered you'd explain the connection." Loki says.
"I like disarming people. It's something I do quite well, and often. You don't seem too fond of that. Which- obviously wouldn't work."
"It's something you do well with mortals. I'll remind you I'm a god."
"So you've said but I did it pretty well to you like five minutes ago." You shrug.
"You caught me off guard." He frowns.
"It's not like I couldn't do it again."
"That's a rather bold assumption. One that I'm inclined to disagree with." His brow furrows.
"That's cute." You chuckle.
"I'm not so easily frazzled as your pathetic midgardian males." Loki insists.
"What just happened does not support that claim, but your insistence is exactly what I'm talking about when I say you're not my type. Putting you in your place would be so much trouble." You shrug.
"Putting me in my place?! On the contrary darling I would have you begging me. You'd call me king."
"What do I care for a king when there people who call me their god?" You scoff tugging at Loki's shirt to bring his face closer to yours. "Do you get it yet Loki? You want control and I'm unwilling to give it. You think too small to ever command me."
"You don't know that." His eyes narrow.
"Your breathing stuttered when I grabbed your shirt. Plus there's not a creature in all the nine realms thinking big enough to command me darling. Don't worry it's not just you." You wink at him pulling back and turning away from him to leave.
"Your attitude is insufferable." Loki growls grabbing your wrist and pinning you against the building with a hand around your throat.
"Is it?" You smile trailing your fingers from his wrist up his arm. You watch his jaw tense as his eyes snap between your face and your hand a couple of times before his gaze settles on you. His grip on your neck tightens as your fingers reach his shoulder. There, you shoot your hand quickly into his hair, fisting a handful of it and yanking, hard. Loki's head snaps back and his knees almost buckle as a strangled moan escapes from him. Your other hand grabs his wrist attached to the hand on your neck, his grip has loosened to practically nothing from your sudden hair pull but this is about power and control and if he's determined to convince you he's got some here you're determined to ensure he knows that's not true. "Let go Loki." You say in that sultry commanding tone you usually reserve for submissives. Slowly, his fingers unfurl until they no longer hold you and you finally release his hair, only to knock his ankle in such a way that he drops to his knees. He snaps his head up towards you with a glare in his eyes but all you do is smirk at him. "Shame you're such a brat, you look so good on your knees for me." You hum tilting his chin slightly. You lean forward, close enough to feel his heavy breaths against your face. "Goodnight Loki." You whisper. You drag your finger from his chin up his cheek and then turn away, leaving him on his knees on the balcony with more questions than he can answer as you return to the party.
The loud knock on your bedroom door pulls your attention from the show you're watching. You almost don't want to get up but whoever is looking for you seems rather incesent so you roll out of bed and swing open the door to find Loki in the hall.
"Loki? What are you doing here?" You cross your arms and lean against your doorframe.
"I need to talk to you about something."
"Look whatever Tony said to upset you, you can always get him back by calling out that he's a spoiled brat with daddy issues and a lack of self control so embarrassingly pathetic it's a miracle Pepper wants to be within 10 feet of him let alone spend the rest of her life with him." You sigh.
"That was- scathing and rather immediate, do you just spend your free time thinking of nasty things to say?" Loki blinks at you.
"No but I do have an arsenal of harsh comments if ever I need to hurt someone's feelings." You shrug.
"I'll- keep that in mind but this isn't about Anthony Stark." He shakes his head.
"Well, what is it then?"
"Could I- do you mind if come in?" He asks. You poke your head into your room checking for anything you don't want him to see.
"Fine." You say after confirming your room is clean. You open the door fully and let him through the doorway. "What's this about Loki?"
"The party the other night. Do you, remember what we talked about?" Loki asks.
"Well yes but you'll need to be more specific on where this is going."
"I just, I've been thinking about it and I think you're wrong and I'd like to prove it to you."
"Oh this should be good. Wrong about what exactly? Because I think I made myself quite clear. You'll never get the control from me that you seem to think you want." You shrug.
"No that much is obvious. But you said I wasn't your type and I think that's- not true." Loki's brow furrows as he speaks.
"What a shocking turn of events." You hum.
"Do not mock me." He sighs.
"I'm not. You were so insistent you couldn't possibly fit the bill I'm surprised by the turn around."
"Believe me so am I but, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night. Something about you forcing me to my knees I just- something happened."
"Something happened?" You quirk an eyebrow at him.
"You disarmed me again but- I liked it. I think. And I'd like to try and understand that."
"Say it Loki."
"You said your partners worship you, show me how to do the same." Loki says.
"And you're sure you want this? If you misbehave I can be very mean."
"I'm sure." He nods.
"Then we'll have to discuss some things first. I won't touch you until I've asked some questions." You shake your head.
"Ask me anything."
"How do you feel about restraints?"
"No handcuffs. Ropes are fine."
"How are you with pain?"
"I don't know my limits but I'm not- opposed." He says.
"I'm not going to paddle you or anything darling it's much too soon for any of that but we'll use a stoplight system anyway. I'll check in frequently but at any point you can say yellow if you realize you're reaching a limit or red if you need something to stop. You'll also need a safeword."
"I don't need a safewor-"
"I don't know your limits, you don't even know your limits. It's a nonnegotiable Loki, you need a safeword. Pick one." You say.
"If I must, I'll use another color. Gold."
"Gold?"
"It's easy to say, I wear it a lot, do you think it'll get confusing?"
"Nope. As long as it's something you can remember." You shrug.
"I can remember gold." He says.
"Then gold it is. And Loki?"
"Yes?"
"You must promise me you will use it if you need to." You say.
"I won't need to."
"Don't start with that nonsense." You roll your eyes. "I need to know you'll use it if it comes to that."
"Fine. If it comes to that, I'll use it." He nods.
"Good. Couple more components. Overstimulation and or edging. Where do you fall?"
"I think you underestimate my resilience." He frowns.
"These are things I ask all of my submissives Loki you are not exempt. Not everyone likes the same things. You're lucky I'm not making you fill out my entire questionaire right now. You'll have to do that later." You scoff.
"I have homework already?"
"If you want this to continue after today you will. For now, overstimulation and edging."
"That's fine with me."
"Toys?"
"Can we- hold off on those until we have a longer conversation about it?"
"Absolutely. How do you feel about names? Do you like being called mean things? Are there certain pet names you don't like?"
"When you say mean things-" Loki trails.
"Mean names like slut or whore, I might scold you for 'making a mess', or tease you for being responsive."
"If- you say something that strikes a nerve I'll say so. Otherwise proceed whatever way feels natural." He says.
"Do you have any questions?" You ask.
"No." He shakes his head.
"Well that's the end of the preliminaries."
"So we can start now?"
"You think you're ready?"
"Yes."
"Kneel."
Loki drops to his knees hesitently, looking at you with wide eyes.
"From here on you'll address me as mistress, is that understood?"
"Yes... mistress." Loki says. You can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide how he feels about it.
"I know I said this the other night but you really do look so perfect on your knees for me." You hum grabbing his chin. You wrap your fingers around his throat and bend over to kiss him. Loki reacts eagerly to your kiss, leaning up into you as much as you'll allow given your hand still holding his neck. When you pull away his mouth tries to follow yours but you hold him in place. Part of you just wants to look at Loki on his knees for a couple of hours, one day you'll tie him up real pretty and take pictures of him kneeling for you. "You want to learn how to worship me do you?"
"Please mistress." Loki breathes out. God that was hot. You're already thinking of ways to make him beg. You pull your shorts off and Loki's gaze falls to the apex of your thighs, still covered by your underwear, but his tongue darts out to lick his lips.
"Take my underwear off, with your teeth. Just your teeth." You tell him. Loki leans forward and latches onto a corner of your panties with his teeth. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it but you watch as Loki works them over your hips slowly. Once they're off, you thread your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to angle his gaze back up to yours. "Let's see if that silver tongue of yours is good for anything other than those silly retorts of yours hm?" You hum shoving Loki's face towards your pussy. He reacts quickly, tongue lapping at your center with fervor. You tug at his hair, arching towards his mouth, as he works you.
"That's it Loki, keep going." You moan. Loki looks up at you while he seemingly tries out a few patterns, trying to work out what you like best. You pull his hair when he does something you like, enjoying the way he groans when you do. "Wrap your lips around my clit and suck." You tell him. Loki is quick to follow your instructions and it doesn't take long for you to coat his mouth in evidence of your orgasm. You pull his head away from you, petting his head affectionately. "That was a good start. Up. Lay on the bed and take off your shirt." You instruct stepping back. Unsteadily, Loki stands up and walks over to your bed, stripping his shirt before he lays down. His body is stiff, probably since your instruction was vauge.
"Relax Loki. You look so- rigid." You chuckle sitting next to him on the bed. You allow yourself to simply admire his exposed chest, using your fingers to trace the plains and valleys of lean muscle that tense up at your touch. Eventually, you drag your hand down, dancing along the edge of his pants allowing the anticipation to build before you slip your hand beneath his jeans. Over his boxers, you stroke his dick, tracing veins and feeling it's size through his underwear.
"Uh... M-mistress?" He says breathily.
"What is it Loki?" You hum, with your free hand you work his jeans down his legs enough to see what you're doing to him. His grey boxers are already a bit darkened from pre-cum.
"If, if you keep doing that I'm- I'm afraid I'll make a mess of myself rather early." Loki frowns.
"So what?"
"W-well it's it's embarrassing mistress." He says, though little grunts interrupt his words.
"Embarrassing? So you don't want me to touch you?" You ask slowing your movements.
"N-no mistress that's not what, I do, want you to touch me. If that's what you want to do." He scrambles.
"See that's what I thought." You say speeding up again. Loki jerks against your hand low moans filling the room as you watch him react to your touch. You continue to stroke him over his boxers, watching the darkened spot of pre-cum grow ever so slightly bigger. You notice immediately when Loki's hands grip your sheets tightly. He must be getting close. It prompts you to increase your ministrations.
"M-mistress wa-wait stop I, I'm too close- I'll ruin my-" Loki doesn't finish his sentence. A shuddering moan accompanies the visual of his orgasm darkening most of the front of his boxers, wet streaks ruining much of the light grey fabric. There's something you quite enjoy about the sight even as Loki's cheeks tinge pink with shame. "I'm sorry." He mutters.
"Don't apologize. I wanted that to happen. As for the rest of your orgasms you'll have to earn them. You must ask for my permission to cum for the rest of the session. If you cum without my permission there will be consequences. Am I understood?" You grab his chin to make him look at you.
"Yes mistress." Loki says, eyes wide, searching your face, for what you're not sure.
"Good." You say pulling his dick out of his soiled boxers. You lick along the length once, reveling in the hiss Loki lets out no doubt from sensitivity. His previous orgasm makes for plenty of lubricant as you begin stroking him again, slowly. Loki's breaths come out in shudders and you lean over to place kisses and hickeys along his throat. Each bloom of red along his neck and chest pulls sweet moans from him until the sensitivity wears off. Soon, surprisingly soon, you see him grab the sheets again.
"Mistress I, I'm close-"
"So soon? Wow." You taunt.
"Can I cum mistress?"
"But before you didn't want to. Remember? You even asked me to stop." You slow down, almost stopping.
"No nonono that was- that was different I didn't mean it that way-" he seems to give up on his defense in favor of a groan at the sudden decrease in stimulation.
"Well, I was so kind in giving you the first one and you didn't even thank me. So you'll have to really convince me you want another." You shrug when his harsh breathing slows a bit you pick up the pace of your strokes again. When Loki grips the sheets you slow down again and when the tension dissipates you pick up. You do this three or four more times before Loki's moans start to transform in to pathetic sounding whines, his chest is red, his knuckles are white, and his dick is throbbing in your hand.
"Please- mistress." Loki pants.
"Please what baby boy?"
"I can't- I can't do it. I need to cum, I need to, please. Please mistress."
"You need to?"
"Please! Please mistress. Please let me cum. Oh god I need you to. Please." Loki's begging is boarderline hysteric, he's trembling and half of his words come out as moans.
"I do love to hear you beg."
"Please!" He whines out.
"Oo that was a good one. Very well, go ahead and let go for me sweetheart." You say sweetly, stroking faster to help him along. A few pumps later and he's spilling onto himself and your hand with a cry that makes your walls clench around nothing. You continue stroking him through it and even after he's coming down. You wonder if you can't pull one more from him. Loki jolts against your touch, scrambling as if to escape it but unable to go anywhere really.
"G-g-gold! Gold. I can't. Please." Loki pants out.
"Hands up." You say as you do exactly that. "Sorry Lo I- guess I got carried away. I'll get a towel for you." You get off the bed and grab a towel, wetting one side to clean him off and using the other to dry him after. You hand him an extra blanket after. "Give yourself some time to recoup okay?"
"You're cruel."
"I wasn't trying to be. You just- fell into your role so well. I told you I'm not easy. But I'll remember you're still new to this and be sure to treat you gently in the future. Mr. you underestimate my resillience."
"I can handle it."
"With time I'm sure. No rush now." You shrug.
"Wait- don't go anywhere please." Loki grabs your wrist.
"You need water honey."
"Later." Loki tugs hard enough to pull you into the bed next to him. You sigh and wrap your arms around him, playing with his hair gently. Loki will make for one interesting submissive if he decides this is something he wants long term. You'll have your work cut out for you, but maybe he's better suited for this than you think. Only time will tell I suppose.
***
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇
Prove It
【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?
『W.C』 : 3.10k
-> Genre: College Au. Smut. Poly.
Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Stark!Reader
[Warnings] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.
Masterlist | Kinktober List
You couldn’t recall the time, but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person, and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it, and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room, and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;
“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Bucky's whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Bucky sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Steve…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”
“We could always just, ask.” Steve sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Bucky throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.
“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Bucky tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.
“Ask who?” You responded, making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Bucky suddenly sat up straight while Steve reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird, or was it just your imagination?
“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Steve was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time, out of all your brother's friends, Steve and Bucky were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘Tony's Little Sister’.
“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that, they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.
“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Bucky diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well, ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him. Oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Buck or Steve. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand, and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react, but now you wished you never took that advice from her.
“Ex. He, uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself, feeling blush, scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Steve raised his eyebrow while Bucky clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours, and it made you squirm.
“And?” Steve had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.
“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”
It stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Steve's laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay. We all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Steve tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better, but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Bucky and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned, pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.
“No, he was pathetic, if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing, and they both couldn’t help but groan at you, basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Steve and Bucky both seem to become tense, stealing glances at one another.
“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Bucky chuckled lewdly making Steve laugh in response but you snapped instead;
“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.
“I can prove it.” Bucky's words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?
“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.
“Yeah I’ll prove it. Come here.” He smirked, patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life, but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
His voice was stern, and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up, you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap, spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot, and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong, Darling?”
You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Steve had taken a seat next to you and Bucky. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Bucky placed his fingers against your chin, making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine, and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Dollface?”
You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly, but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Bucky and him touching you. So without another moment, Buck brought his fingers to your inner thigh, hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was, but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “James.”
“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.
“Hey, I wanna try.” Steve's deep voice tickled your ear, making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”
Steve's fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Buck's dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Steve take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “S-Stevie pleasee.”
“Oh, Sugar, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled, making Bucky lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Steve slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Bucky got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them, but Steve's strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Bucky having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Steve wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.
Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.
“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Steve grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Bucky took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Buckkyy. S-Stev―” Steve suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Bucky slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Steve's fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Bucky's tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.
“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now, do we.” Steve's deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, and you needed more. You tried to speak, but your mouth was covered tightly. Bucky continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Steve had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.
“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Bucky's fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate, made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Steve and Bucky were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Bucky's face. Your tears stained Steve's hand while your nose began to drool. Once Buck helped you lessen your high, he sat up, taking a look at the mess you made.
“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Steve's lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Steve finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once, and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.
“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.
“Fuck Sugar. You okay?” Ste e tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”
You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain, so instead, you kissed him. Steve's eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face, he deepened the kiss, making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Bucky who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he placed his fingers on your chin.
The kiss was desperate and rough. Bucky's fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it, making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Steve. Now, saying Steev was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Bucky, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Steve kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.
“Hey, punk if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Steve said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Bucky pulled away making you chase his lips.
“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Steve rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Steve cupped your breasts, squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Bucky's form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Steve's hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Steve’s assault.
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”
You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly, they were right. You had no clue how long you’d been at this, and if your brother were to wake up, there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Bucky, putting them back on while Steve helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy, and your legs were on godly wobbly, but Steve's hard, strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Bucky, seeing a sweeter, less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Steve stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Bucky gave you a long, drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Steve, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Steve pulled away, you looked back at Bucky, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;
“Don’t worry Doll. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”
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What Are My Other Options?
Title: What are my other options? Pairing: Insomniac!PeterParker x Reader Word count: 9.6k Warnings: mentions of cheating (but Peter would never) Notes: F/T = favorite topping Summary: The reader has come to the conclusion that Peter is cheating on them. What else are they supposed to think when he’s always running off and constantly canceling their plans? That he’s Spider-Man?
It wasn’t often that you got a chance to dress up anymore. As a grad student, there was very little spare time to spend on your appearance, and when that kind of rare opportunity arose, you jumped at it. So you didn’t feel bad about spending the last hour in front of a mirror, tossing around outfits, and destroying the closet in the process.
The occasion? The New York Times Gala. You’d been working for the biggest news outlet in the state for your graduate program for investigative journalism, a spot you had fought tooth and nail for. Every News Outlet and invited celebrity would be there, the Daily Bugle, The Wallstreet Journal, USA Today, and you’d heard whispers of Tony Stark attending. You hadn’t even learned until last week that you would be allowed the attend as well. As nothing more than an intern, you hadn’t seen there being a reason.
But your boss had given you the news last Friday, and you’d practically skipped home to tell your boyfriend, Peter, about it. And that you had a plus one. He’d been almost as excited as you.
Which is why you were finding it hard to believe that he wasn’t home right now. He wasn’t getting ready with you, he wasn’t even answering your calls or texts. So while you were excited, there was a bubble of worry hiding underneath.
“Where is he?” You’re muttering to no one but yourself. The last touches of your outfit were going on, and the last train you could take would be at the station in 20 minutes. Your window was closing.
Looking down at your phone while adjusting your choice of red accessories, you start to wonder if something bad had happened to him. After all, New York was crawling with supervillains and regular villains alike. And Peter was equipped for any kind of fight he might’ve run into. Ever since you met him in your first year of college, he had been one of the most peaceful people you’d ever met.
Your red shoes rest by the door, and while pacing your living room, you decide to call his Aunt May. She would surely know if anything, bad or good, had stopped Peter from coming home on such an important night. You click on her contact, resisting the urge to bite your nails from nerves.
It’s only two rings before she answers, “(Y/N)!” she answers happily, “I’m a little shocked to be hearing from you so late, is everything alright? Isn’t tonight your Gala for work?”
Aunt May was nothing short of a saint. Kind and caring, traits she’d taught Peter as she raised him. You adored her, the two of you always got along great when you and Peter volunteered at FEAST or went over for dinner. You weren’t sure if the lack of concern in her voice should make you more worried or not.
“It is,” you tell her as you watch the clock tick on, “but I haven’t been able to get ahold of Peter all night. I’m starting to worry. Have you heard from him?”
There’s a hum of confusion on her end, “I’m afraid not, dear,” she says, “but I wouldn't start worrying just you. We both know how bad he is at keeping time.”
It was true. Peter was chronically late. Normally, it was funny, except for the few times he was an hour late to your date nights. But this was different. He knew how important this night was for you and your career as an investigative journalist.
“I know…” you agree with May, “It’s just…I can’t be late for this, and the last train is leaving in 15 minutes.”
Your phone buzzes in your hand as you speak to her, and you bring it away from your ear to glance at the screen. A photo of you and Peter in front of the Ferris wheel at Coney Island is on screen, his name appearing with heart emojis next to it. Relief floods your system.
“Oh!” you gasp and return to speaking with May, “that’s him! I’m so sorry for bugging you May!”
She chuckles, “don’t be, dear. You two have a good time!”
You hang up, immediately answering Peter’s call, “Pete! Where are you!? I’ve been calling you all night!”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” his voice sounds winded and tired, like he was running, “I just…got wrapped up in something at work, me and Doc were talking about his lab and…I’m really sorry!”
“Well, where are you?” You ask. There was no point in telling him it was okay, because it didn’t feel okay, “the last train is about to leave and we can’t be late–”
“(Y/N), I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” his voice cuts you off before you can continue your nervous ramble, “Me and Doc are still wrapped up in this lab project and I won’t be able to make it back in time for the gala. I know how important this was to you and I promise I will make up for this tenfold for the next 20 years–”
You could hear the rushing wind of New York behind the phone as he continued on an apology that you didn’t feel in your chest. He sounded sorry, sure, but you could only feel disappointment in his words. Your shoes are on your feet, and you’re looking at the clock hanging next to a vacation photo of the two of you on the beach. Your lack of response is response enough to him, but you’re too busy deciding if you should be angry or not.
“(Y/N),” he says your name, “I can’t say I’m sorry enough, but you’ll do fantastic even if I’m not there.”
“Seriously?! Of all nights, Peter, you have to pick tonight to flake out on me? You know how important this is and you can’t even look at a clock for two hours?!”
You had 10 minutes to get to the train station from your apartment, a task that would surely try and ruin your hour of work on how you looked.
“I know, babe, I’m so–”
You click the end call button before he can finish. Fumbling with your keys, can feel your cheeks warming up in a rush of emotions. First, embarrassment. A couple of people in your office had been excited to meet Peter, and now you would show up alone. Stood up by your boyfriend of 4 years. The gala would go on without him, and you would have to put on a pretty smile to go along with it.
Which is exactly what you did, barely making it on time to walk with your boss into the decorated hall. Telling your coworkers that your boyfriend had eaten some bad takeout for dinner and was at home nursing himself back to health. Hoping nobody saw how your eye twitched whenever Peter texted you before turning your phone on do not disturb.
That night, you locked the bedroom door and left a pillow and blanket on the couch.
★★★★★★
Something you and Peter had in common was your love of pizza. Both of you had differing opinions on the best pizza place in New York, but you did agree that any pizza was better than no pizza. So when you two moved in together, it was an unspoken rule that at least one night a week, you scaped whatever money you had together and ordered a large pizza.
“It’s my week to pick,” you remind him as you sit cross-legged on the couch in your studio apartment, holding the phone of power in your hand, “and I say Benny’s.”
Peter is standing in the kitchen, pulling a can of soda from the fridge, “aw man,” he says, “but they don’t have the good pepperoni.”
“But they have the Italian sausage,” you remind him, already pulling up Doordash on your phone, “and it’s my night.”
Peter looks over his shoulder, a smile on his face that always makes you blush and look away like a teenager, “you’re lucky I love you,” he says, “and I’m willing to part with the good pepperoni.”
You giggle back, “Aren’t I the luckiest? So half sausage half (F/T)?”
“It’s your world, babe,” he says as he walks around the couch to sit beside you, “I’m just living in it.”
“That’s the answer I was looking for,” you look over at him with a grin.
These nights were the ones you loved the most. The two of you in pajamas, ordering your favorite food, waiting for the newest episode of Game of Thrones to air, in the quiet of the apartment. Where the noise and air of New York felt like it was miles away, and your little bubble couldn’t be disturbed.
Peter leans down, his eyes soft when he looks at you, and he kisses you slowly. Every kiss with him, deep or small, left you with fire in your veins. Whether it was innocent or lewd, at home or in the park, an apology kiss or a hello kiss, you always felt like you were walking on the hot air of a volcanic eruption. He pulls away, smiling like he was looking at the sun for the first time.
“Hm,” you gaze back at him, “I don’t care how much you kiss me, I won’t be swayed into Lenny’s.”
He gives a dramatically fake sigh, “There went the plan of seducing you into mushroom on half.”
“Well, I didn’t say that…” you roll your eyes, still smiling. You were always smiling with Peter. Or, most of the time you were.
His phone dings on the coffee table in front of you, the screen face down but illuminating the light-colored wood around it. It caught you off guard for a moment, that his screen is face down. And that he picked it up immediately. But you didn’t let it bother you for long, deciding to order the pizza while he checked whatever notification he had.
Just as you hit delivery, Peter stands up from the couch in too quick of a motion to be reassuring. You jump slightly at his speed, looking back at him in confusion. Tilting your head, you look as he shoves his phone into his back pocket.
“Pete?” you say in an unsure voice, “is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s great,” he says. The slight rise at the end of his sentence makes you narrow your eyes, “It’s just uh…Doc texted me and uh he says he’s had a breakthrough on this project, but he needs my help with it..”
You can’t hide the disappointment in your expression as he makes a reach for his keys hanging by the door, and for his bag by the couch.
“Oh…” you say, trying to mask the sound of defeat in your voice, “right now? It’s almost nine pm.”
“Yeah, it’s just…a really important project,” he insists as he pulls his shoes on hurriedly. You would think he’d just gotten a call from the police with how quickly he was moving, “and you know Doc, he’s always rushing through the numbers, so I should just make sure he’s got them all right before moving on.”
He was rambling. His voice was rising and falling. Every tell he had that he was lying, but you didn’t want to jump to that conclusion. What was there for him to lie about? What would have him running from the apartment so late? He did care a lot about the projects he and Doc had going at the lab, he was always doing some kind of numbers crunch for his boss.
Peter slows his pace when he takes note of your expression, avoiding his eyes, “I swear I’ll be right back,” he says as he walks back towards the couch where you sat, “30 minutes tops, I’ll be here before the pizza guy, I promise.”
So it wouldn’t be a long late night call by Doc, then. That makes you feel the tiniest bit better, and you give him a small half-hearted smile. What were you supposed to say? No, don’t go to your job that you’re so crazy passionate about? Don’t go help your boss on a project that could potentially change lives? You make no move to stop him.
“I promise,” Peter repeats when he doesn’t see a lift in your spirits. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours again, lighting you on fire from the inside, “don’t start the episode without me!”
You tried to take that as a sign that he meant it. Half an hour and he would be back with the pizza still hot in the box. So you kissed him goodbye and sat on the couch by yourself in the apartment. As soon as the episode started, you hit pause and texted Peter that you had done so, letting him know that every second you were away from Jon Snow would be counted towards your next pizza night.
20 minutes passed, and the pizza showed up with steam rising from the box. His half with sausage and mushroom was untouched as you grabbed a slice from your side. Just because he said to wait on the show didn’t mean you had to wait for dinner.
30 minutes, and you figured he was fighting the night rush on the train. He didn’t answer your text message, but he probably needed all of his attention on his work right now. You don’t make a fuss, keeping the show paused.
After an hour of no response, you get fed up of sitting with just your phone and decide to unpause the show. If he came in and mentioned it, you would tell him to watch it tomorrow night while you were at work. But he doesn’t come back. Even when the episode is over, you haven’t heard the jingle of the keys in the lock.
Two hours late, as you decide to pack it up for bed, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. From the kitchen, putting the box of pizza in the fridge, you heavily roll your eyes. Your disappointment was riddled with hints of anger, but there was also confusion. Peter had always been flakey, he’d always been late, he’d always been absent-minded and forgetful, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d put his phone face time when around you lately.
It could mean nothing. In fact, it probably did mean nothing, but there was a sense of dread in your gut. You weren’t sure you wanted to face the idea that was forming in the back of your head. Because you loved Peter, you loved him so much you weren’t sure what life had been like before you started loving him. He made you feel safe and seen and understood, he made you feel like someone important in a city where nobody mattered unless they were on the front page of a magazine.
And if there was one thing you were sure of anymore, it was that Peter Parker loved you too. Nothing had shaken that fact over the last four years, and you weren’t sure anything ever would.
But you could still be upset with him when he did things like this. Like bailing on your traditional date night, like standing you up on one of the most important nights of your rising career. You picked up your phone, reading the text from Peter that had come in two minutes ago. All the lights in the apartment were off, and you were ready to tuck yourself into bed.
His message read, “Baby I’m so sorry. I’m gonna be a little while still, please don’t be too mad at me.”
The words “I’m so sorry” were starting to grow old to you. You lock your phone and leave it in the living room with the screen facing up, no response, and your chest getting heavier and heavier as you sit in the empty apartment by yourself.
★★★★★★
He’s just late, you tell yourself, like always. He’s always late.
You couldn’t even tell yourself that he’d never been two hours late befor because he had. Sitting in the corner booth of Leo’s pizza, more dressed up than you should be for a place like this, you try to convince yourself that Peter was late for a good reason.
The train broke down, he’d had his phone stolen, sandman was on the loose again and he had to take the long way here.
But the news was mostly quiet, with no attacks, and he hadn’t even texted you. Again.
You stir the straw in your soda, watching the melting ice bump into the sides of the glass as your mind runs rampant. After Peter had bailed on your pizza and Game of Thrones night, you had been angry and hurt and unable to hide that from him. His apology? Take you out to Leo’s for dinner, your favorite pizza place of all time.
There was no way Peter would stand you up for your apology date. Not even he was the absent-minded, you were sure. You’d been talking about it just this morning over breakfast in the kitchen. He’d given you free rein of the toppings, and he would meet you here after work.
Looking at the clock, two hours had become three, and Leo’s would close in one more. Sitting back in your booth seat, you swallow the lump of emotions that wanted to burst out.
“That boy still not here?” Leo, the man behind the counter, asks you.
The burly Italian man had been witness to your guys’ relationship grow. From your first date to your anniversary dates to your celebration dates. He’d seen it all from behind the counter, and you were sure he would be witness to every other milestone. At least, you had been.
Sitting in the booth alone, you were beginning to wonder if there was anything beyond these four years with Pete.
“I wish I knew, Leo,” you admit and look down at your phone.
It buzzes as you’re looking at it. But when you see Pete’s name pop up, you don’t feel any sense of relief or anger or even sadness. Maybe you just didn’t want to feel it all at once in front of poor Leo. He didn’t need to witness that part of your relationship.
Pete had said, “Where are you at? Working late?”
You couldn’t help the scoff, “he forgot about me,” you say more to yourself than anyone else.
“What was that?” Leo asks when he catches a hint of your mumbling.
You look up from the phone, tucking it away into your pocket, and give the man a tight smile, “nothing, Leo. Sorry for wasting your time.”
Pushing yourself out of the booth, you wonder how you would go about this. Peter had been bailing on you more and more these past few months. With date the gala, with date night, and not to mention the countless nights he comes home so late you think he’s an intruder half the time. Had he always been like this and you were only noticing now that you lived together? Or had you just ignored it because of how much you loved him?
“Not a waste of time,” Leo assures you as you walk towards the door, “you and Peter will come back soon, I’m sure.”
He sounded confident. But you couldn’t even bring yourself to politely agree. You thanked him again. You texted Peter back while taking your time walking towards the train station.
“Well, I was at Leo’s,” you reply, “waiting for your amazing apology date.”
Not even a full minute goes by before his caller ID appears on your phone. You answer it out of pure curiosity, too tired to be angry at him anymore or even upset with him. He’s speaking before the phone can even fully reach your ear. Pete’s voice sounds frantic.
“I'm on my way!” He insists, “just give me two minutes and I’ll be there, I swear, (Y/N)!”
“Forget it, Peter,” you hope your voice doesn’t sound as strained as it feels, “I already left. Go back to work.”
“I wasn’t at work, I was…” He doesn’t seem to have a good answer for her, “Just give me two minutes, (Y/N) and I can still make this date happen, I promise!”
“Peter…” You weren’t sure you wanted to go back to the apartment and face the conclusion you were drawing, “all I’ve heard the past month are apologies and promises you don’t keep. It’s exhausting.”
“I know, I know, I’ve been a shit boyfriend but I’ll get it together, I know I will.”
“Even your apologies need apologies,” you sigh, rocks sitting in your chest and making you walk slower, “how many more nights are you going to stand me up this month alone?”
“None!” He insists, “It’s not gonna happen again, ever.”
“Why has it already happened six times then?” You shake your head as you reach the train station, your stomach rumbling as you regret not getting a slice of pizza to go, “and yes, I’ve counted. That’s just this month!”
There’s no immediate response on his end, and the silence makes the rocks in your chest grow to fill your stomach as well. It was like every conversation you had was giving you more reason to believe that suspicion that you wanted to forget about because it made no sense.
In the night air of New York, you can smell pizza and trash trucks littering the street. And somewhere in the distance, the sirens that were always going in this city. You weren’t sure if it was from your end or Peter’s
“(Y/N), when you get home I swear we’ll talk this out,” he finally breaks his stretch of silence, “I’ll be waiting for you, and you can yell at me for however long you need but–”
You close your eyes for a moment and grip the phone, “do not say you need to go.”
“I have to go…dammit,” he mutters the last word to himself, “I’ll meet you at home, (Y/N), I’ll be there and we can work this out.”
You shake your head, watching as a train approaches the boarding area. One that wouldn’t lead you to the apartment but to somewhere else. You step onto the nearly empty car, watching a few people shuffle out and pay you no mind.
“Don’t bother, Peter,” you say, “I’m staying with my parents tonight, okay? So just go back to whatever work is more important than I am.”
★★★★★★
A very common task given to you at work was getting coffee. Usually, it was the first thing you did in the mornings when your boss handed you a company card and a piece of paper with everyone's order on it. Sometimes throughout the day, you would be sent on other various food and drink runs, but only around meal times.
Sitting at your desk, you were looking over the files on your computer that contained a few of the articles being pitched to your boss that afternoon. Your task was the weed out the “boring” ones by trying to decide what he would deem boring in the first place. You weren’t expecting any kind of task before the meeting, so all of your attention was on the article on your screen.
“(Y/N)!” You jump nearly out of your desk chair when your boss yells your name from across the room, “We need a coffee run before this meeting!”
Your boss was not a man of patience, so you had a few seconds before he got annoyed with your lack of movement. Closing the tab on your computer, you grab a piece of loose paper and a pen and start across the room of office cubicles towards him.
“Your usual, sir?” You ask him in the fake professional voice you’d taken to using with him.
He nods his head and holds up the silver credit card for office expenses, “Yes, and an iced chai for Martha when she gets here, and a vanilla latte with soy for Marcus.”
You scribble down the other orders as you nod your head and take the card, “I’m on it, back in a jiff.”
“(Y/N)!” here it came, “can I get a lavender mocha?!”
Everyone would shout orders at you as you left when they heard a coffee run was being called. Normally, you tried to get out of there as quickly as possible before too many orders piled up. Because no one would offer to come with you to help carry them, and you could only carry so many steaming cups before you were destined to spill them on yourself.
The paper is filled before you’re in the elevator anyway, leaving you with 8 orders of coffee. You liked being at work because you hardly had time to think for yourself. Unless you were doing some kind of food or drink run, and then you had entirely too much time to yourself. And right now, you didn’t want to spend too much time in your head.
For the past three days, you had been staying overnight at your parent's place in Queens. During the day you would be at your apartment, getting ready for work or making your meals, because you knew Peter would be gone at the lab. You hadn’t come face to face with him since the morning he stood you up for his apology date, and it’s because you couldn't bear to look at him. Just the thought of confronting him with the truth made you nauseous. You weren’t sure you wanted him to say it out loud or not.
Your parents hadn’t minded when you showed up, near tears, telling them that you were at least 80% sure that Peter was cheating on you. They’d offered you their guest room and told you to think about things with a clear head. Your mother had been very adamant that you talk to him first.
But you’d been ignoring his calls and texts like the plague. Partly because you wanted him to know what it felt like to be ignored, and partly because you weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him yet. You knew you would talk to him when you were damn well ready, and you weren’t ready. Not this morning when he sent his usual “good morning” message and asked if you wanted to meet for lunch.
Maybe tonight you would talk to him. You would bite the bullet and get the truth, even if you didn’t like what it was.
As you stand and wait for your two coffee carriers, you look down at your phone and all of Peter’s unanswered texts and voicemails. He was persistent, especially when it came to your relationship. You love that about him.
Peter Parker didn’t do anything half-assed. Everything he did from school to work was 100%, and relationships had never been different. At least not until now. He’d loved you as much as you loved him, you had been sure of that until now. You just didn’t understand when that had changed. What had made him back away from you to the point of forgetting about you multiple times a month?
“(Y/N)!” You hear it called from up ahead. You look up from your phone, wondering if your order was done already. But you see a familiar face walking towards you in a grey sweater vest and a head of thinning brown hair with small glasses.
You smile and turn your body to face him, “Doctor Octavius!” You greet, “it’s been a while!”
“It has,” he agrees as he reaches out to shake your hand, “it’s so funny running into you here. I’m here every day for lunch but we’ve never run into each other.”
You shake your head politely, “this is an odd time for a coffee run for me,” you assure him, “so how are you? Things at the lab doing okay? Peter is so excited to be working with you.”
“And I’m happy to have him,” Dr. Octavius says, “he’s passionate about helping people, that boy,” he then waves a hand through the air to laugh, “if only he could be on time for once in his life! But I’m sure you know all about that.”
You give a pained smile, hoping it looked more real than it felt, “You have no idea,” you agree and then try to forget about the sore subject in your relationship, “but I’m sure he’s making up for it with all the late nights, he’s always thinking about your guys’ projects.”
Dr. Octavius laughs while pushing up his glasses, “Oh, I wish we could do late nights,” he tells you, and your heart begins to pound, “I’m afraid I don’t have the funding to keep workers past normal hours. But that’s not an issue for now, I’m glad Peter has some spare time to spend with you. You two remind me so much of me and my wife when were young…”
His word became muffled. No late nights. He didn’t have the funding for late nights. But Peter had been telling you that he was at work, with Dr. Octavius. He’d been telling you that for months. If he wasn’t there…where had he been going? Why had he been lying to you? What was the point of lying to you?
You’d never been the kind of person to tell Peter what he could and couldn’t do. It was his life, his choices, his spare time. Why did he feel the need to tell he was somewhere when he wasn’t? The weight in your chest stretched down to your stomach, and you wondered if anxiety-vomiting was a real thing. It felt like you were about to find out.
“Order for (Y/N)!” Your name breaks your trance as well as the conversation with Dr. Octavius, who was still speaking despite you not hearing it. You look up at the barista counter, where your 8 drinks are waiting for you to grab them.
“Oh, I’ll let you get back to work,” the doctor says as he hears your name as well, “I hope we run into each other again, (Y/N).”
“Me too, Doctor,” you tell him, hoping it sounded scincere, “good luck with your research, I can’t wait to hear about it!”
The doctor smiles, and he’s about to turn away when he looks back at you, “Oh, and (Y/N), great work on that Oscorp piece last week!”
Any other day, you would be ecstatic that someone had read you piece in the back of the paper and at the bottom of the website. Especially after all the work you put into gathering information on Oscorp’s underhanded carbon emissions from half of their facilities. But you didn’t feel that excitement, you hardly felt anything about it. But you thanked Dr. Octavius and grabbed your row of drinks off the counter.
Your brain was in another world entirely as you balanced everything on your hands. Peter had been lying to you for months. Maybe even longer than that. He was bailing on your dates, leaving you alone in the apartment at night to “work.” Still, you tied to put half of your focus on getting back to work in time for the meeting without spilling anything. You only took your eyes off the coffee to check your footing.
But the streets of New York were never kind, not even to those having a month full of bad days. With your eyes on the coffee, you fail to notice an incoming biker barreling down the sidewalk. There’s a ding of a bell that makes you look up, but it was to late to get out of his way without spilling anything.
What’s one more bad day, You think when you realize your situation, on top of all the others?
Still, you yelp as he barely swerves around you, your foot caught under his thin tire. When you jump from pain, your hands instinctually let go of the coffee trays. The smell of lavender and espresso douse your nice work clothes, and hot liquid burning the exposed skin it touches. You jump back from the biker, who was already whizzing past you and disappearing into the city. The edge of the sidewalk was right there, and your heel is already too close to the edge.
“Whoa! Watch out!” You hear someone calling down at you, but what were you supposed to do? You were already slipping into the road and watching as cars didn't bother to slow down.
There’s a burst of air at your side, a hand on your hip, and your feet are barely picked up off the ground before being sat back down a few feet further into the walkway. You saw the red and blue before you could process the entirety of what had just happened. Spider-Man, the walking legend of the New York streets. He was the small time hero whs ometimes got into big-time fights. Your boss absolutely loved him.
You’d never had a personal enounter with the hero before, and you didn’t think you would ever need to. But you’d heard plenty of stories from other people while working. He was a good man, someone who cared about the people of New York, even the small people like you who didn’t have their names on billboards.
“Are you okay?” He aks you.
His voice was a little distorted when you heard it, robitcally. It must be another way for him to protect his identity, you assume. Maybe his suit was more high tech than people realized. You look over at him, wide eyes, coffee all over you, your skin tinted red from the heat, and you say nothing at first. Taking in the situation. Taking in the information Octavius had given you, and the only conclusion you could draw from it.
Spider-Man tilts his head as he lets go of your waist, “Miss…are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Besides the burning coffee your arms an your throbbing foot, you shake your head. But you could feel the emotions you were pushing down starting to bubble over. A month of ignoring signs that the person you loved more than anything was cheating on you, hoping it was all some big misunderstanding. Your job piling more tasks on you because you could take it, with no breaks and hardly time to eat lunch. You just wanted a pizza night with Peter, with your favorite show and your favorite person right next to you. But he was, clearly, with someone else when he was supposed to be with you.
Your eyes start to burn.
“Okay, good,” Spider-Man says with a nod of hs red and blue mask, “that was almost bad. Do you need smeone to uh…walk you back to wherever you’re going?”
Why did he care? You were fine, just getting more upset by the second. Any minute the dams would burst and you didn’t need a superhero seeing you cry over spilled coffee. So you shake your head again, trying to wipe the coffee from your skin.
“That looks like it hurts,” Spider-Man comments when he sees the light burn on your arms, “we should get some ice on that. That coffee shop should have some,” he points to where you had just come from.
You shake your head again, “I’m fine.”
But even to you your voice sounded thick with emotions he woudln’t understand. Hell, you didn’t even fully understand them. What you understand is that Peter wasn’t going to be who you call anymore after a bad day. You wouldn’t go home to him tonight because he would be gone, tell you it was for work, and then turn his phone upside downwhen he got back.
“Alright miss, if you’re sure,” he says, “but some ice water might make it feel better. I’ve had few coffee burns before too.”
You weren’t sure what the final straw was, but you couldn't stop it anymore. The tears fell, and you drop your head into your hands to block it from anyone who walked by. But nobody in New York cared about people who cried in the street, you knew that. You just didn’t want to be the weirdo on this day who broke down in front of a coffee shop. Keeping you cries as internal as possible, you begin to turn towards the coffee shop once more.
“Whoa,” Spider-Man stops you, “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? It’s just a few cups of coffee, we can order more.”
This stranger sounded so much like Peter in his words that it made you cry a little bit harder. Peter was the go to for any kind of comfort. He spoke so calmly when you were loosing it that if made you feel more in control. You hated it right now because you weren’t in control of anything anymore.
Spider-Man places a covered hand on your shoulder that you’re too upset to brush away.
“It’s everything!” You sniffle on the street, people pushing around you without sparing your emotional break a glance, “I’m gonna be late to the meeting because i have to chage clothes, and now I have to get more coffee, and I think my boyfriend is cheating on me!”
Hearing the words out loud, you cries become harder to muffle and tears begin to fall onto your palms. Peter was cheating on you, you were sure of that. There was nothing else that explained his behavior and lies. Normally you wouldn’t wail about your problem to a stranger, but what could it hurt? It’s not like he knew you or Peter, and he would forget about this in an hour when he was pulling a kitten from a tree.
“Wait, why would you…” his voice sounded hurried at first before he stopped and corrected himself, “um why do you think that, Miss? That your boyfriend is cheating on you? I really doubt that’s the case, I mean I don’t know him but I think that’s way out there to assume, not that I know anything about your relationship–”
“What do you care?” You turn from the super hero and back towards the coffee shop, where you try to swallow down your cries and sniffles long enough to order your coffee for a second time.
★★★★★★
Your boss had not been happy to see you appear in coffee covered clothes with a slight limp. He’d been the slightest bit concerned when he also took note of your red eyes and ruined hair, but then told you to go home and change as quick as humanly possible.
But you didn’t move like you were in a rush. Actually, you drug your feet back to your apartment hoping that Peter would really be at work. You didn’t even want to walk into the home you shared with him knowing that he had been running around with someone else while you were there alone. But you had no where else to go and change that was within a one-train-ride distance.
You unlock the door, eyes still stinging at the corners, your clothes sticking to your body. And there was a slight sting in your skin where the coffee had hit. Maybe Spider-Man had been right about icing it. Maybe a cold shower would make you feel better physically and emotionally, but you doubted it.
You open the front door, dropping your keys in the tray by the door.
“(Y/N)! You’re home!” You nearly jumped out of your skin when Peter’s voice came from the living area, “please, we need to talk!”
You look at him as you shut the door behind you, and you wanted to start crying just seeing him. But you held it in and turned away from him.
“I don’t have time for this, Peter,” you tell him, “I’m late for a meeting and I have to shower before I go back.”
“Please, (Y/N) even just a two minute conversation, I swear,” he pushed, walking after you as you went towards the bedroom where you had a bathroom connected, “you don’t even have to talk, just listen.”
“I don’t have time for this!” You repeat, starting to get irritated in the sadness you felt when he spoke your name. You reach the bedroom and make a beeline for the bathroom, wondering if he would disappear before you got out. He follows you up until you close the bathroom door in his face. Your tears fall again under the cold water, and you hope he can’t hear it.
You showered, changed, and blow dried your hair. Not as quickly as you could’ve, but quick enough for your boss to think you moved as fast as you could. Part of you didn’t even want to go back in, but the other option was staying here and facing the music with your boyfriend.
Who was still there when you opened the bathroom door. Sitting on the bed you two shared. His side was strewn about from sleeping, his pillow crooked, the blanks tossed aside. But your side was untouched, even your half of the blankets pulled up. You were always the one to make the bed. He immediately stands up when he hears the door open, turning towards you.
His normally put together hair was frazzed. He ran his hands through it when he was upset. It was one of his tells when he was nervous and tried to hide it.
“Peter…” you sigh as he gets up to follow you from the bedroom, “please, not now. I have a lot to do at work, and I don’t need to be thinking about this while I’m there.”
“You won’t come home at night,” Peter says behind you as you reach for your shoes by the door. They still had coffee marks on them, “you only come back when you know I’m at work, I don’t know when we’ll be able to talk aside from showing up at your work. Which I have thought about, believe me.”
“Then just wait until I’m ready to talk,” you tell him, “what’s wrong with that option?”
“Because I really want us to go back to normal, (Y/N). I want you to come home, and I want to see you next to me in the mornings, and I want to hear about your day–”
“We can’t go back to normal, Peter,” it looks like you were doing this now. There was no way around it anymore. Part of you was relieved, “not after this. I don’t even think there can be an us to go back to.”
“Please don’t do this, (Y/N),” he pleas, approaching you but keeping enough distance between you that you didn’t feel trapped here, “I know…that…I know you think that I’ve been doing something, I know what you think and you have to know–”
“How would you know what I think, Peter?” You ask him, your throat threatening to close, “you’re not around to hear what I think anymore! You’re never here, you’re running out in the middle of the night, you’re lying about where you are!”
“I know that I’ve made some stupid mistakes this past month,” he insists, “but I can fix it all, I swear, and you’ll never have to deal with those problems again.”
Fix it all. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t fix the fact that you didn’t believe a single word he said now. Or that you would always wonder if he was looking at someone else when you went out on dates. But you still looked at him and you loved him because you knew what it felt like to be loved by him at one point. When had that changed? When had he stopped loving you? Was it so quick you only noticed now, or had it been so slowly you hadn’t noticed at all?
“Just…” you inhale deeply and try to keep your breathing steady, “tell me the truth…please. Are you cheating–”
“No,” he shakes his head before the question is even out.
“--on me? Are you seeing someone else?”
“No,” he repeats, “I am not, have never, and will never cheat on you, (Y/N), I promise.”
“I don’t believe your promises anymore, Peter.”
“I love you,” he takes a few steps to close to distance between you two so he’s standing directly in front of you. He reaches down for your shaking hands, like he wanted to steady to flurry of emotions you were feeling, “I love you so much, and that is a promise I have never broken. Why do you think that? Why would you ever think I would chose someone over you?”
You pull your hands away from his, sick at how at ease he could still make you feel when he spoke with such a calm voice. You didn’t want to be calm or sad. You wanted to be angry. But his brown eyes only left you feeling small and defeated.
“What else am I supposed to think?” you shake your head and take a step away from him, “what are my other options? Of course there’s someone else–”
“There’s no one,” he presses, “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved like this.”
“So you leave me at a table by myself at Leos?” You ask with a disbelieving headshake, “and tell me you’re at work when Dr. Octavius says he can’t keep you after hours? If you’re not cheating, Peter, then why all the lies? Give me the truth, or I don’t think I can handle being loved like this anymore.”
He doesn’t say anything. Your shoe are on, youre reaching for the doorhandle, and you don’t think he’s going to stop you. That hurts more than anything. Or mayb all of the hurt was piling up and you didn’t know what was the most painful anymore. You couldn’t look back at him for fear you would crack and beg for an answer.
Your hands on the door handle, you want him to stop you, but you refuse to beg him to choose you.
There’s a thwipp sound behind you, and then something cold has your hand pinned to the doorknob. Unable to turn it. You look down at it, and a pile of white spiderwebs is covered your hand entirely. Looking back at Peter, his hand is out and pointed in your direction. His eyes are wide, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing either.
“I-I’m sorry,” he says and takes his hands through his hair in distress, “I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I couldn’t let you walk away thinking that I had cheated on you.”
Your head was going a mile a minute, probably not even on Earth anymore, and you were staring down at the webs covering your hand. Your first coherent thought was that it was Peter you had cried in front of an hour ago, crying about your cheating boyfriend. The second thought was that this also made sense for all the lies and the leaving.
“I’m not gonna stop you from leaving me,” He’s rambling behind you, “even though I’m ready to get down on my hands and knees and grovel for one more chance, but if you need to walk away from me then please just know the truth when you do it. I love you, (Y/N), and that is the only thing I’m sure is true anymore.”
You sniffle, your tears having run dry, “Peter,” you say in a dull and emotionless voice, “can you come get this shit off my hand so I can go back to work?”
★★★★★★
Needless to say, you didn’t get anything productive done after that encounter with Peter. It wasn’t hard to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t cheating on you. You’d been looking for a reason to do that for a month now. But the fact that he was Spider-Man?
Your Peter, who hated violence, who was as peaceful as a butterfly, who didn’t even like watching MMA fights, was a crime fighting superhero? With powers? And you’d been living under the same room as him for a year and had never noticed?
Your brain was connecting the pieces of every time thing that had happened. Like when the sink handle had broken off one morning in Peter’s hand when you’d first moved into the apartment. You’d laughed about it, thinking about what a funny stroke of bad luck he’d had. Or when he’d come home bruises along his back and say he’d fallen while trying to get work on time. It had sounded true at the time, but Peter wasn’t the clumsy type. Now you knew why. He was coordinated enough to fight super villains.
None of what you needed to get done happened at work. You could hardly process any words you read, and any conversations went in one ear and out the other. Your boyfriend was Spider-Man, you were still grappling with that revelation by the time you got off.
You decided to go home. Now that you knew Peter wasn’t cheating on you, it felt like you could at least see the place again. However, on your walk to the train station, you were hyper aware of every se of sirens that went off somewhere in the distance. Which was every three seconds in New York, and the worry you felt knowing he could be at any crime scene was arguably as bad as the anxiety you’d felt all day.
Of course you could text him. But after ignoring him for three days, it felt only right to talk in person. You hoped you would be home when you arrived, but if not, you would have to wait. It would give you time to think of what you were going to say. Of how you wanted to go about things now that you knew the truth.
You unlocked the front door with anxiety running through your veins. On the other side, the remains of his webs from earlier were still hanging from the doorknob. He’d cut you free with his house keys, and you’d left before you could see the webs closely. When he wasn’t inside, you looked at them a little closer. They were as thin as real spider webs, but you’d felt how strong they were when holding your hand down. Peter was genius enough to make these himself, that’s for sure.
The apartment was empty. You didn’t hear any sign of Peter. So you place your keys in the tray by the door and take a seat on the couch, letting things slowly settle in your head.
You sent Peter a text, “I’m at home. We should talk.”
You honestly weren’t expecting a reply, so you set your phone down and decide to find something to eat. As you silently open the fridge, your options are slim. There’s one can of Dr. Pepper, left over pasta, and a container of uncooked mushrooms in the drawer. Peter clearly hadn’t been shopping while you were gone. You reach for the left over pasta, figuring it was your only option that required minimal cooking tonight.
“(Y/N),” your name makes you jump a mile in the air, a yelp leaving you. Spinning around, you see Peter.
He’s sitting on the edge of a newly opened window that led to your fire escape. In a familiar red and blue suit with a web design on it. The mask is crumpled in his hand, like he didn’t want you to panic when you saw him. His hair is a frizzed mess, and his eyes are staring at you like he was shocked to find you standing in the kitchen.
“You’re here,” he says as you place a hand on your chest to feel how hard your heart is hammering.
He steps into the living area, and you can see the suit in clear lighting. He came in so easily and with skill. Like he’d done it a million times before.
“That’s how you get in without setting off the alarm?!” You ask him in disbelief.
He looks back at the window for a second, and then back at you, “Yeah,” he confirms, “It doesn’t wake you up, and it’s less stairs.”
“Less stairs,” you repeat and nod your head, setting your cold pasta on the counter, “yeah, makes sense, sure.”
Peter puts the mask on the coffee table beside your phone, “you want to talk?” he asks, as if confirming it was you who sent the text message, “I wasn’t sure you were ever coming back, if I’m honest.”
“Well I did ask for the truth,” you tell him, leaning back against the, “I can’t be mad that I got it.”
There’s silence on his end. Like he wasn’t sure what to say next. But you weren’t either. A few things came to mind, but you didn’t know where to start. So you decided on the first thing that came up when you opened your mouth.
“I’m sorry,” you land on, “for thinking you were cheating.”
Peter looks up, eyes wide, clearly not having expected that, “what? Don’t apologize, I’m supposed to be apologzing.”
“Yeah, well, I figured I owe you one too.”
The space between you two felt like miles, but it was only feet. And the apartment felt cold, like you were both avoiding making the first move. You wanted him back at your side, as close to you as he could be. You wanted to sit on the couch with Peter as your peasonal heated blanket, listening to his heartbeat as you fell asleep.
“I owe you about a million more,” Peter shakes his head and finally breaks the distance separating you two, “I never should’ve even let you begin to think that I would pick someone else over you. I should’ve told you the truth years ago, I should’ve told you the moment I realized I loved you, I’m sorry.”
He’s maybe a foot away. He’d closed the distance up until now, and you decide to close the rest. Your hands reach out, the feeling of the suit alien under your fingers, but his warmth reminds you that its him. Pulling him forward, he practically melts into you as you wrap your arms around him. Burying your face into his neck, feeling his hair between your fingers. It was Peter, your loyal and loving Peter.
Peter holds you back. Now you know that the strength he’s holding back is because he doesn’t want to hurt you. How could Peter ever hurt you? He loved you, and you loved him. After too long thinking that that was a lie, it was a relief to know it was still true. Keeping this kind of secret couldn’t have been easy for him, just as it hadn’t been easy for you to think he was being unfaithful.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask him as he leans his body against yours, his face buried in your hair in relief, “it’s been years, Pete, you could’ve trusted me with this…”
He lifts his head, only enough so he could press his forehead to yours, “I do trust you,” he says, “but I also love you more than life itself, so I have to protect you above anything else. There’s a lot of people out there who wanna hurt me, and I will not let them use you to do it. I can’t do that to you.”
“Pete trusting me with something like this isn’t damning me to being a damsel in distress,” you inform him carefully, using your hands to gently swipe his messy hair from his eyes.
The apartment was dimly lit, something you’d always complained about, but you could see his face clear as day as he clung to you in the kitchen light. His brown eyes glossy with tears, the freckles dotting his cheeks that you counted when you couldn’t sleep. You though your knew everything about him, every part of him, but he had been hiding an entirely differen life from you. A life that couldn’t have been easy to shoulder all on his own. You couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for hiding from you only to protect you.
“I couldn’t risk it,” he admits, his voice as soft as the light above you, “but I also couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that I didn’t love you with every cell in my body. I needed you to know the truth even if you still left.”
You shake your head against his, “this isn’t going to drive me away, Pete,” you assure him, palms coming to a rest on his cheeks, “what’ll drive me away is the lies. Promise me no more lies, Pete, please.”
He’s nodding his head before you can even finish the sentence, “No more,” he says, “no more lies or secrets, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
You believed him. Not just because you wanted to, but because you could feel that me meant it. Every doubt that you’d had in your head is flooded away as you make the first move to kiss him. His lips were as soft as they always were, his movements just as gentle. He was still your Peter, the same guy you fell in love with over Leo’s pizza. He leans forward, pinning you against the counter so he get a solid grip on your waist.
He hoists you up with one hand, and you can’t help but gasp as he lands your butt on the counter without blinking. He chuckles at your reaction, settling himself between your knees in your shock.
“You’ve been hiding this the whole time?” you ask, now more interested than anything else. You lock your legs around his hips, “Pete, we could’ve been having some real fun with this.”
Peter grins, “Trust me, I know, I’ve had a few dreams about it.”
#peter parker imagine#marvel imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#insomniac spiderman#insomniac!peter#marvels spider man 2#marvels spider man#spider man imagine#spider man x reader#spiderman imagine#spiderman x reader#peter parker#spider man#marvel#mcu imagine#mcu x reader#marvel cinematic universe#marvel games#marvel video games
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I like me better when I am with you
Masterlist
Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Summary - Bucky isn't in love with you, nope, not at all, not even a bit, that doesn't mean he has to like that man who is shamelessly drooling over you.
Warnings - Fluff, Bucky’s internal thoughts, jealousy
Word count - 2.8k
a/n - I had so much fun writing this.
Bucky’s internal monologue is in italic.
Stark parties were his least favourite. They always consisted of the same kind of people. Bucky didn't have to remember their faces to know that. They were all the same. Rich people with money much more than they could handle, spend it in the worst and the dumbest way possible. No, really, why the hell would they get their already filthy expensive phone coated with gold? And don't even get him started on when he had heard a man complaining that Tony hadn't put 'perfectly squared ice cubes' worth 300$ each in their drinks. Hell, he had somehow started respecting Tony's choices and that man was currently wearing a 100,000$ suit.
But these parties were never this unbearable. He always used to have company. He still has Steve sitting beside him and don't get him wrong, Steve is his best friend but there's a limit as to how much Bucky can hear that man complain about the new recruits.
"Can't believe Tony was able to do that. That man has got brains. Only if he was not so arrogant. Don't you think, Buck?"
His name slipping from Steve's mouth makes him look at his best friend who has been talking to him for .... well, a long time. He didn't even know when he switched topics.
Bucky never really zones out. He is a great listener but today, something else has caught his attention completely. Something which keeps bugging him and he doesn't even understand why.
Steve sighs as he realises just how much his best friend has been listening to him. "You know, Sam is right, you do have a staring problem."
"No, I don't," Bucky says in a way that makes it look like that's the most absurd and offensive thing he has ever heard.
Steve chuckles and says, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."
Bucky gives out a sarcastic chuckle. After everything he has been through, there is nothing in a hundred-mile radius of this party that could remotely hurt him. "I am just fine, Steve. Why would I be hurt?" He doesn't say he is good, or great, he says 'just fine' 'cause that's his default setting. To be just fine. He is rarely ever more than that.
No, you are, when you are with her. His inner thoughts whisper to him. He shakes his head to get that thought away as if it had offended him too.
Steve gives him a small smile and nods his head towards a direction that Bucky has been not so subtly staring at for the past half an hour.
And there you are. In all your glory. In the beautiful, simple, golden outfit you are wearing, sipping on your drink in the most gentle way possible. The colour golden suits you, Bucky thinks.
That's what you said when she was wearing blue. A person can look good in 2 colours. Then what about green and - Shut up.
He looks at you again and notices the thing that has been bugging him. You're still talking to him. The man with the too smooth suit and the too silky hair and the too gentle words and the - ... God, he hates that man. And he has reasons for it. Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit? Doesn't he have any other colour to wear? And who the hell drinks non-alcoholic drinks when at a Stark party? And then Bucky remembers you telling him once that you hated the smell of alcohol. That you couldn't stand within a metre radius of the people who had drunk a lot. But, that man doesn't know that.
You are still smiling at him and talking. But, that's okay. You love to talk. You could spend hours talking about the movie you just saw or the book you just read. That's nothing. And smiling, well you smile at everything. That's your default setting. To find beauty in everything and give it the most beautiful and genuine smile he has ever seen. You can really find the good in everything.
Maybe that's why she is friends with you.
That's not the point. You even smile at strays. And that's who the man is, a stray, a wild, animal.
Cannot be wilder than you. Or did you forget who you are, Buck?
Bucky doesn't like these thoughts. They tend to come back to him in crowded places. When there are too many people staring at him, talking about him. You always used to be there with him. Making fun of all these rich people and their etiquette.
The both of you would mostly escape from the party early, especially when you were done with what you actually came here for, which was always food. He had to agree. Tony did know how to throw a good party.
You would sneak him into the mini theatre and would watch the silliest movies, just to laugh at their absurdity. Or you would just take him to the roof and the both of you sat there, stargazing and talking. You were really a good friend of his.
Friend? Friends don't glare holes into the back of the man they're just talking to.
This man had approached you at the start of the party and hadn't left your side. Clingy. Rich, coming from you.
You didn't owe Bucky anything. You didn't sign a contract that you had to spend all these parties with him. No, it wasn't any of that. That doesn't mean it couldn't hurt.
"Buck, why don't you just tell her?" For a second, Bucky is taken aback. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still sitting there. What had happened to his super soldier skills?
Too busy gaping at her I remember asking you to shut up And I remember telling you not to fall in love with her
Bucky clears his throat at the last comment by his inner conscience. Sometimes, it acted weird.
"Tell who, what, Steve?" Bucky feigns nonchalance as if he has no idea what Steve is talking about.
Steve chuckles. "How many hers do you have in your life, Buck?" Noone. Just her.
Bucky is sure he is going crazy. Maybe he has had too much to drink. You haven't touched alcohol. Oh, I wonder why that is.
"I know many people who use that pronoun, punk. Nat, Wanda, Sharon, Maria, many shield agents, Carol, oh and yeah... y/n. You have to be more specific" Well done
"Fine, I will be more specific. How many 'hers' do you stare at?" "None." He replies, a little too fast and Steve gives him a knowing smirk. And there it goes...
"I am not staring at anyone, Steve." He gives him a pointed look. "Whatever sails your boat, Buck. But I'd recommend talking to her before it's too late."
Before it's too late
That sentence echoes in his ears. He didn't want to lose you. Not to the annoying guy who had still not left your side, not to the shield agent who always insisted on training with you whenever he got the chance, not to anyone. He didn't want to lose you. Never.
How can you lose someone who isn't even yours? This time his inner voice is gentle, pleading as if it is silently begging him to do something.
Before he even knows what he's doing, Bucky is out of his chair and walking towards the bar.
You chuckle at something the man says before you notice Bucky walking towards the both of you and your smile gets wider.
"Hey, doll." He greets you, completely ignoring the man standing a couple of feet away.
: "Hey, Buck. Please tell me Steve didn't talk your ear out about work." You say with a chuckle. Of course, you had noticed Bucky talking to Steve, your eyes tended to look for his even in a room full of hundreds.
Bucky just lets out a chuckle, shrugging, already feeling much at ease now that he was with you.
A clearing of throat brings both of your attention back to the man standing beside you.
"Gosh, I am sorry. Bucky, this is Todd. Todd Williams. You remember the law firm Tony was talking about the other day?"
Bucky just nods his head, least interested in who this man was.
"He is the owner." You introduce him to Bucky with a polite smile on your face and Bucky wants to rip this man's head off. Even though he just knows his name, he is pretty sure he is going to hate him, if he doesn't already.
"Hi, Bucky, I have heard a lot about you." The man brings his hand forward for a handshake and Bucky thinks he will chop off his hand before he shakes it with the man.
"James." He replies with a stern look on his face.
Todd awkwardly takes his hand back and narrows his eyes in confusion.
"My name is James. Only my friends call me Bucky."
You widen your eyes at Bucky. You knew he never liked meeting new people and that he was not really the warmest to strangers, but he was never so.... hostile. If looks could kill, Todd would be six feet under by now.
"It's nice to meet you, James." Todd tries again, now slightly scared of the former winter soldier.
"I wish I could say the same. What are you even doing here?" Bucky asks, annoyed.
"Bucky." You whisper yell his name to remind him how Tony had conducted an emergency meeting to tell everyone that they have to be nicer to the guests. You, then put on a smile before replying for Todd, "He is here for the charity auction. Isn't that nice?"
Bucky squints his eyes at you as if he can't figure out what's so nice about giving your money away for charity.
"That is just an excuse, really," Todd says, in an attempt to break the tension. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful woman." He then looks at you before saying, "Mission accomplished."
You giggle at his words, flustered. You know he is just trying to be nice and not flirty. He had just told you how badly he was missing his wife who was much better at these charity auctions than he was.
What you don't notice is how Bucky's jaws tense and his fists clench. If they were not standing in a room full of so many people, he would have picked the glass from the nearby table and broken it on Todd's head. Tony's warnings are damned.
He instead just says, "Well then, you don't have to stay for the auction. Leave."
Todd nervously chuckles."I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit."
"You should. Tony's parties have the best appetizers." You tell him, desperately trying to make him feel comfortable when there is an ex-assassin who looks like he could slit his throat if given a chance.
"But you know what's better? The exit gate. You should check it out and while you are at it, maybe also get your ass out of here." Bucky says without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.
"Bucky." You gasp. This wasn't funny anymore. "Can I talk to you? In private?"
You give Todd an apologetic smile before holding Bucky's hand to get the hell out of here, without waiting for his response.
Bucky stops for a moment to look at Todd again, "The exit gate is that way. Feel free to use it while we are gone."
You pull him with you and take him towards the nearest balcony, not leaving his hand till you are out in the cold air and can't hear the party from inside.
You let go of him to cross your arms across your chest. "Buck, what the hell do you think you are doing?"
"Showing an annoying joke of a man his place," Bucky replies, without a single ounce of guilt for what he has done.
"Bucky." It's your turn to be upset. "He is a businessman. A rich one. His contribution could be great for the auction. Do you not remember what Tony said?"
"I don't care what Tony says. What is he gonna do with so much money, anyways? Buying some piece of mind?"
"What the hell is wrong with you? Why in the nine realms were you so rude to Todd?" You snapped.
"Oh, so now you call him Todd, huh?"
"That's literally his name."
"It's a very stupid name, okay? But it suits him. A stupid name for a stupid man. In his stupid suit with his stupid money." Bucky rambles, disgusted as if he hasn't heard a worse name in his long life.
"Buck, you are behaving like a 5-year-old now. What's - ?" You stop yourself as an amused grin spreads on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oh, god!!" You place your palm on your mouth before whispering, "Bucky, you - You are jealous."
"No, no I am not, Not even a bit. Nada.Negative. Why would I be?" Bucky shakes his head as if that were a ridiculous thought. Why was everyone getting the most ridiculous ideas today?"
"I would have believed you if you hadn't said no 6 times. You are jealous." Your smile grows wider as you take a step towards him with a pointed look. "You are jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and he called me beautiful and said that I had a pretty smile." "When did he - " Bucky stops himself as he realises the rage in his voice will give him away. He takes a step back and turns away, till he is standing near the railing.
You stand beside him, about to say something, till you look into his eyes. His eyes have a look you have seen before. He is hurt. He is processing a lot of things that he doesn't want to think about. This wasn't amusing anymore. "Hey. I - I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Bucky, I am - "
"I am not jealous, okay?" He now turns and looks directly into your eyes. "I am not. I just don't like it when someone else has your attention. Not because I am jealous, no. But because I am scared." Bucky swallowed thickly. You had seen him vulnerable before when he had nightmares and you were trying to remind him where he was or when memories from his time at hydra hit him with full force. But this was a different kind. It was as if he was laying his soul bare in front of you. Voicing his worst fears.
"I am scared because I don't want anyone else to realise how amazing, smart, funny, kind and just so damn lovable you are. Because then they will steal you from me. I will lose you forever and - and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else. I don't want to lose you." He says the last sentence as if he is begging whatever god will listen to not let his worst fears turn true, to let him have this. Let him have you.
"Tell me, doll. Why am I so scared to lose you when you are not even mine?"
Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him.
Before Bucky knew what was happening, you closed the distance between the both of you. As your lips met his, everything else stood at a standstill.
Bucky was too shocked to respond for a minute. This couldn't be happening. Did you feel the same way about him? How -
All these thoughts turn into nothing until you're the only one comprising his thoughts. And Bucky realises this is how it has been for a long time. It was just you. In his heart and his mind. Your warmth spread through him and captured his soul until it was impossible to separate the two of them.
He kisses you with the same love and gentleness as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer towards him.
When the necessity to breathe arose, you pulled away but still stood close.
"I want to be yours, Buck."
If the kiss had stolen his breath away, your words make his heart beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.
"You don't mean that, doll. You - "
"I do. I do mean that, Buck. I choose you. And I'd always choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd always choose you”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x original female character#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x y/n#winter soldier x you#marvel#oneshot#jealousy#love confessions#bucky barnes fluff
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Hear me out y'all, I've been talking about multiverse shenanigans lately so what if Wade literally became Spiderman?
The TVA sent Wade on a mission to protect the anchor being of another universe, Spiderman. Except... there was a small hiccup. Wade got there right as Spiderman died. He was officially brain-dead, even if his blood was still circulating.
So, naturally, the TVA employee in charge of this universe panicked and fucked things up further. By putting Wade's conscience into Spiderman. Hooray!!
Now time to undo this shit and get back to his universe. Except... that doesn't happen. Because the portal closes and he's stuck here, with his own fucking vegetative state body. While he's in the body of Spiderman. Shit.
Fuck the TVA. And their shitty employees lie to cover their own asses and hide the fact that Wade just replaced the anchor being of another universe.
And Wade... has to pretend to be him, for better or worse. Because the mission was to get this timeline roughly where the Sacred Timeline left off. Or it'd collapse. With him in it.
(Which he thought he could do by saving Spiderman and letting him make the same decisions as he did originally, but noooooo. Now he has to imitate Peter and remember what the hell he did in the Sacred Timeline. Thank God for the fourth wall, because Wade does not share the same decision-making process as this guy.)
And Wade manages. Poorly. Especially when he has to hide his own body in the closet, which is miraculously still breathing.
But he tries! He attends high school for the first time in forever (yikes) and somehow manages to not flunk out, he acclimates himself to Peter's powers, goes web-slinging (with a much better costume, thank you), and talks to all of the right people. He manages all of Peter's tasks while trying not to focus on how much he misses his home and how he wishes Logan were here.
But it's insanely awkward. Especially when the people around him notice how weird he's been acting. Namely Peter's best friend and aunt. (And that's a whole other can of worms that Wade's trying his best to avoid.)
He nearly fucking stabs Flash with his pencil when he made fun of him, only held back by Ned tugging at his arm and asking what was wrong. (He does, however, steal his clothes after gym. Payback.) And he kind of forgets to get with MJ, oopsies! Not his type. (Especially with the whole teenager thing. And the fact that he's already kind of in love with someone. Who he misses incredibly and sometimes wonders if they'll come for him...)
He manages to meet Tony Stark around the same time as Peter and wow this is awkward. Because Wade knows what the Accords are and quite frankly, is very vehemently against them. But he grumbles and reluctantly goes with him. And manages to do a lot more damage than the original Spiderman, huh. Guess his years of experience stacked up well against a literal teenager.
His relationship with Tony would be especially interesting. Because in the original timeline, it was almost paternal. But Wade is not shopping for father figures, especially ones who are around his age and not nearly as experienced, so he manages to laugh it off. (Even if it does feel nice, privately, to be cared for.)
Everything comes to a head when Wade's staring blankly at the board in class, trying to will himself to focus. Until the teacher says a new student is coming in. Wade's been here for a few years now and he's now 18 and it's his senior year. (...It's weird to think he'd actually go to college. And it won't even fucking transfer back home, so it's all for nothing.) Point is, nobody transfers senior year.
So he looks up with vague curiosity to see a younger version of Logan.
What the fuck.
He didn't keep incredibly close tabs on the X-men of this universe (partially out of respect, partially out of fear) but he knew that they were all alive. They were more adamant about wearing masks and "protecting their identity" in this world so there wasn't much information. But apparently, Logan was just as young-looking as in the first X-men movie. Hugh Jackman really was fine, back then.
But what the hell was Logan doing in high school? Even in another universe, it's a central plot point that he's over 200 years old. He just looks young. (Not that Wade is much better, sporting the middle-aged man-turned-teenager look.)
Until Logan's eyes fix on him. He was looking at him with very intense emotion in his eyes, something Wade couldn't exactly name.
Not until he's shoved up against the locker in some shitty corner, claws pressed against his neck as Logan snarls at him and asks where the fuck was Wade and what did he do with him.
And Wade doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Because, on one hand, this is objectively hilarious and he's really happy to see his Logan had somehow possessed this one. But on the other hand, he kind of isn't immortal right now and he doesn't want to test his luck.
So he manages to spit out the story. And Logan stares at him with shock and then trepidation and then genuine relief and suddenly he's hugging him and clinging to him and burying his face in his neck and oh shit is he crying?
They stay there even as the next bell rings, dropping to the floor and just sitting together.
All goes well until Ned comes looking and finds Wade with Logan leaning against him, head on his shoulder, and holding his hand. And now he has to explain to his aunt, to his best friend, and to his mentor who the fuck Logan was and why he's following him everywhere now. ("Don't worry! Him and I go wayyyyy back, he's been my online friend for years. He just transferred here recently, sorry I forgot to say haha...")
And then it just devolves into everyone being vaguely shocked as Logan and Wade act super affectionate while trying to figure out how the hell to escape the timeline. Not that Wade doesn't appreciate not being in pain constantly, but he kinda has a life back there. And yeah, these people are attached to him (and he's started to care too) but they don't really know him. They just know he suddenly became a master in fighting and insanely competent (and kind of fucking crazy) one night after getting a concussion. Hell, Mr. Stark only met him in the suit for the first half of their relationship because Wade was wayyy better at keeping his identity a secret than Peter.
It'd just be interesting to see how canon would diverge and how the characters would react to Logan suddenly coming in and insisting on being a fucking guard dog at all times. Everyone is vaguely concerned and thinks that "Peter" is in a toxic relationship where the other party is demanding until they see how reciprocal it is. (And what the hell?) And how they seem to get each other and make odd references and somehow share the same edgy humor brand.
#poolverine#deadclaws#kitkat#deadpool 3#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool movie#wade x logan#wade/logan#spiderman#peter parker#itd just be interesting as hell#bc how is WADE gonna deal w this?#badly#he misses logan and his house#and feels like nobody is “his” and lowkey distances himself#everyone is worried#and he isnt coping well w body changes#but suddenly logan comes and he can cope
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a girl
peter parker x female!reader
setting: civil war, meeting for the first time
genre: a little angsty at the beginning but it's mostly fluff
you're lost in a trance as you use the blowtorch to reshape the dented metal on one of tony's suits. you insisted that he let you work in the lab because it had a way of taking your mind off of everything else.
and right now, you could really use a distraction. steve was god knows where and the whole team just seemed to be getting closer and closer to falling apart. your family was falling apart.
there was nothing you could do about it and it killed you. of course your dad's way of handling things was just to make demands and empty promises, so you had a hard time seeing a way back from all of this.
natasha tried to tell you that you were wrong. she consoled you and reminded you that tony and steve aren't as different as they think. she held you and told you that everything would be okay.
but how could you believe her when all the evidence showed otherwise?
peter wandered around aimlessly with his head up in the clouds, looking for tony. he popped his head into the doorway of the lab that you were in.
when he saw a person covered head to toe, wearing a mechanics apron, a face shield and gloves that were way too large for their hands, he automatically assumed it was tony. "mr. stark! hey, i was meaning to ask you-"
he was interrupted by you pulling up the face shield. you were exhausted and your hair was stuck to your forehead by the sheen of sweat covering your face. and yet you still managed to take peter's breath away.
"wow," he swallowed. "you're a-uh...a-" he choked on his words.
"a girl," you finished his sentence for him with a smirk.
he let out an awkward laugh that was partially a sigh, "sorry."
"what for?" you asked.
peter just stared at you with big doe eyes.
"i thought you were..." and just as he began to say his name, tony walked in from behind him looking for something specific.
he didn't even spare peter a glance as he spoke, "you better not be flirting with my daughter, parker."
peter's jaw almost dropped. daughter!? it made sense the more he watched the two of you, but it surely wasn't what he was expecting.
"no, sir. i would never. well, it's not that i wouldn't," he changed the subject before he could get himself in anymore trouble. "i was just going to ask where i should come in during the fight. like, should i have a cool catch phrase. maybe something like," he lowered his voice, "a spider bites to kill."
you rolled your eyes and tony looked peter up and down, thoroughly unamused.
"let's skip the catch phrases and instead you can go help rhodey with surveillance," tony clapped him on the back.
"okay. so we'll just say it's a work in progress?" peter asked hopefully.
tony shook his head, "don't push it."
peter slowly backed away, "i'm not hearing 'no'. is that a 'maybe'?"
you couldn't help but laugh at the interaction. the new kid was kind of adorable.
your dad quickly spun around to give you a disapproving look.
#marvel#mcu#avengers#fanfiction#marvel fluff#peter parker#fluff#peter 1#peter parker fluff#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#stark!daughter#stark!reader#peter parker x stark!reader
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That's How You Know
Pairing: Tony x Reader Word count: 4,003
Read on AO3
You leaned your head on Nat’s shoulder, the two of you watching some comedy in an effort to cheer you up. You’d broken up with your long time boyfriend just the day before. And it sucked. The two of you had been together most of your twenties. Now, at 28, you were nursing a broken heart, eating a pint of ice cream, and cuddling your super-spy best friend.
“Miss, Mr. Stark is inquiring if you’d like take out from your favorite restaurant for dinner this evening.” Came JARVIS’s voice.
Hearing that, you smiled softly. “Tell him yes, and thank you.” You agreed easily.
Nat smirked at you. “You know he loves you, right?” She pointed out. “I mean, it’s really obvious.” She chuckled. “He just never actually said it because you were dating that asshat.”
You shifted to look at her. “What the hell are you talking about?” You asked, confused. “A- Tony doesn’t love me, and B- he wasn’t an asshat until the last like...month.” You muttered in defence of your ex.
“You are so blind. And he clearly thinks we are, too.” She was amused. “Look, I’d tell you to just go kiss the man, but I’ll be nice and let you get over your ex before pushing you together and going ‘now kiss’.” She smirked, making you stare at her. “You’ll see.” She said confidently. “Now, let’s finish this movie.”
It had been six months since that conversation with Nat, and you’d pushed it from your mind. However, you were out with her, Wanda, and Pepper, which meant drinks. It made it difficult not to think about the handsome inventor. Just as you were thinking of him, your phone went off.
Nat looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Awe, he’s worried about you!” She chuckled as you playfully shoved her away. “He is seriously texting you just to tell you that you’re on his mind, but he wanted a reason, so he pulled the ‘be safe’ card.” She downed another shot. “And, you’re right. That would be a warning for some pour perv to mess with any of us.”
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.” You put your phone away, going back to your drink.
“So, who’s the mystery man?” Wanda grinned. “Do we know him? Oh! Is it that cute agent?” You raised an eyebrow at her. There were a few cute agents. “I think his name is Paul? Such an unsexy name for such a nice face.” She mumbled. “Spill the beans.”
You were about to shut this entire conversation down when Nat spoke up. “It’s Tony.” She said easily. “He’s had it bad for her for years.” She went on, making you put your head on the table. “She doesn’t believe it, but she’s the only one who got a ‘be safe’ text.” Nat chuckled, licking her lips. “And I see someone I’d like to be bad with tonight. Excuse me, ladies!” She slipped out of her chair and towards whoever had caught her eye.
Pepper rubbed over your shoulders. “Want me to get us some shots? Since Nat drank them all?” She chuckled.
Sitting up, you sighed, nodding. “Sure, I need one. Or five.” You shrugged. You didn’t want to believe Tony loved you. You didn’t want to admit you loved him, either. So, you’d get a bit drunk, and then go back to forgetting about it the next day.
Walking into your kitchen a couple weeks later, you were wearing an oversized sweater and leggings. It was a cold fall day, the skies were grey, and you planned on curling up with a book, and a cup of coffee. You had to do a double take. There, on your kitchen island, was a bouquet of sunflowers. That had not been there the night before. Walking to the table, you lifted the note that was placed in front of it.
I know you hate days like this. Here’s some flowers to brighten your day.
-Tony
You blushed, biting your lip. Once you set the note down, you went over to your coffee maker and decided you’d thank him by bringing him a cup. “JARVIS, is Tony in his labs?” You asked as you brewed your cup first. This way his would be hotter by the time you got to him.
“Yes, Miss. Do you need his assistance?” He asked.
“No, tell him I’ll be down shortly, though?”
Tony looked up when you walked in. His face lit up as he took the mug you held out for him. “Thank you for the flowers.” You smiled, leaning against a table. “I was not expecting those.” You chuckled before sipping your drink.
“Well, when I saw the sky, I knew you’d like them.” He shrugged a shoulder as if it was something just anyone would do. “And I remember you like sunflowers.” You’d told him once before when telling him a story about your life growing up. “And, you’re welcome.” He smiled. “Thank you for the coffee.” He held his mug up slightly for a moment. “I need it. Working on this damn bug.” He sighed.
You giggled, shaking your head. “I’ll let you get back to that.” You told him. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
He nodded. “Enjoy your book.” He smirked when you looked at him. “You’re going to crack your sliding glass door, curl up under the blanket I got you last year for Christmas, and read.” He teased.
You were just kicking off your boots after working on your Christmas shopping when your phone went off. You were assuming it was Nat, asking you to come to girl’s night, or to watch a movie. It was Saturday night, after all. However, your eyebrows shot up at it being Tony.
Letting out a sigh, you removed your coat and made your way back out of your door. Minutes later, you found yourself knocking on Nat’s. “Well, it wasn’t a break up, what’s that face for?” She raised an eyebrow, letting you in.
“Tony.” You shrugged as she shut the door. “Apparently, he wants me to be his plus one at some event. He’s known for two months, and it’s next Friday. He asked me today. Well, like, less than half an hour ago.”
“Yeah, we’re all going.” Nat shrugged. “Next Friday is his Christmas benefit for the kids.” She teased. “Did you honestly forget?” She laughed.
You blushed. “I’m sorry, I was too busy being shocked that he was asking me on a date.” You admitted. “At least I already have my dress then.” You noted. “Well, I’m here, want to watch a movie before I head home and start wrapping presents?” You asked.
She shrugged. “Sure, as long as you tell me what you got Tony.” She smirked.
“I haven’t gotten his yet. What the hell do you get the man that has everything?! Or could build it, or buy it.” You half whined as the two of you moved to get comfortable.
“Lingerie?” She asked.
“I never pegged him for the type of guy to wear that…” You mused, thinking it over. He was over the top, so you could honestly see it now that you thought about it.
Nat burst into laughter. “NO!” She was doubled over. “And it’s even funnier because you said ‘pegged’.” She wiped a tear from her cheek from laughing so hard. “No, I meant YOU wear it, and slap a bow on your ass. Pretty sure that would be what he wants.” She nudged you as your face turned a bright red.
“….Oh.” You managed.
Tony’s hand was on your lower back, his other hand holding yours. The pair of you were dancing, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “So, Nat is the one who pointed out that I already knew about tonight.” You blushed, making him chuckle. “She thought it was amusing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I thought it was cute. I made you so flustered that you forgot.” He smirked.
“Oh, really? And what if it’s because I had a long day of Christmas shopping for a super-spy, a super soldier, and an archer? Fully knowing my shopping wasn’t done yet.” You asked, an amused look on your face.
He gasped playfully. “And not the child-like billionaire?” He asked.
“Still trying to figure out what to get him.” You smiled. “It’ll come to me.” You promised.
Holding you close, he nodded. “I’m sure it will. Well, I’m done all my Christmas shopping, and I am sure that you will love your present.” He told you. “Nat helped.” He laughed as your face fell, turning pale. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He grinned.
“So mean.” You leaned your head on his chest.
Minutes later, Steve came over. “May I cut it?” He asked.
You looked at him. “Sure, but I’m not sure which one of you would lead.” You chuckled.
“Funny, doll.” He smiled as he took your hand, causing Tony to pout. “Hey, Clint still wants a dance, so does Bucky, Thor, and Sam…” He teased the poor inventor, pulling you into his arms. “You look beautiful tonight.” He told you as Tony excused himself. “And he’s too easy to mess with.”
“Thank you. And he really is.” You giggled. “It’ll be even more fun come New Year’s when he’s drinking.” You smirked. “Then he’s really easy to get to.” You thought back to the previous year when, once he was drunk, you’d managed to convince him that he’d let you borrow his favorite car. And then ‘lost’ it. It didn’t last long, but his face was priceless.
Steve laughed, nodding. “Hopefully we get more pictures this year.”
“I’m sure we will.” You figured that Nat would be taking some to ‘prove’ that Tony was in love with you.
Much to your dismay, a mission came up.
On Christmas Eve.
Part of you expected Tony to pout, if you were being honest. Him, or Clint. Both were like giant children. Sitting on the Quinjet, you were talking with Wanda. While Steve got serious, some of you just relaxed, and others made a point to have a good time. Who knew if there’d be a mission someone didn’t come home from? Why make your last memories of them anything but happy?
Bucky nudged you. “Hey, doll?” He asked, making you look over. “You do most of the decorating, right?”
“Yeah, why?” You chuckled. “I have for years, but I ask you guys for help as needed. You know that.” You teased.
“Have you ever thought about putting stuff up in the Quinjet?” He was curious. “In case something like this happens. Why not make it festive in here, too?”
You thought about it for a minute. “I never thought about it. When I’m decorating for Christmas, the last thing on my mind is possibly deadly missions with my friends.” You shrugged. “I mean, I can try to remember next year?” You offered.
“It’s okay, I was honestly just curious. You’re like the elf of the tower.” He smirked. “It’s cute.” He winked. Nat smirked at him, shaking her head. She knew he was only doing it because Tony was close by. “I haven’t seen any mistletoe. Did you skip it this year?”
Bucky was all over the place it seemed, making you stare at him for a moment. “Uh, thanks?” You replied, unsure. “And you don’t remember when poor Steve had to kiss almost all of us? In the course of maybe two days? I thought I’d be nice and let him have a break from lip locking this year.” You chuckled as you saw Steve blush and hide his face. He had indeed kissed nearly everyone the year before. And he’d been sober for them all!
Tony looked over. “Who’s didn’t he end up kissing?” He asked, having been one of those that he had.
You put your hand up. “Me, and I think Bruce?” You told him. “I only kissed Nat, Bucky, and Clint.” You thought back.
Nat stuck her tongue out at him, teasing him that she’d kissed you and he hadn’t. “Shame you didn’t put them up again, I would have found a way to get you underneath the mistletoe again.” She winked at you playfully when you looked at her.
“Me, too.” Bucky admitted.
“And me.” Clint chimed in, even though no one knew that he was paying attention. He had his eyes closed, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, and his fingers laced together on his chest. “Especially with that body spray she only wears in the winter.” He added.
You chuckled. “You mean the one that smells like cupcakes?” You asked. It was received for once the snow started to fall, and was put away once it was over. Cupcakes reminded you of baking with your dad as a kid, and you’d always make cupcakes. So, it was a nice reminder when the days got shorter, and colder.
“You pay attention to her body spray?” Tony asked, surprised.
Before Clint could answer, JARVIS let them know they’d be arriving in under two minutes.
Your back was to a wall, your breathing coming out ragged. This was not as easy of a mission as you’d been hoping for. At the moment, you were actually hiding- not your proudest moment, either. Your leg had been shot, you had a split lip, you were sure you were sporting a shiner, and your shirt was sticking to you with blood. Some of it was yours, some of it wasn’t. You tried to push that thought from your mind as you closed your eyes. You nearly jumped when you heard Steve in your comm. “Y/N? You’re the only one not accounted for at the meetup.” His voice was firm, but the worry was there.
Clenching your jaw, you replied. “Yeah, uh, about that.” You started. “Seems I got a bit…injured…in the process of taking some guys out.” You hissed as you pressed against your leg.
It was Tony’s voice you heard next. “How bad is it? Can you get to us?” He asked quickly.
You sagged. “No, I can’t.” You hated having to rely on them during missions. You wanted to be able to hold your own. “I got shot in the thigh for starters.” You leaned your head back against a wall.
“For starters?!” Came a few voices, but you couldn’t pin point them all.
“Can one of you just come get me before I pass out?” You asked, pain radiating from your wounds. “That would be great!”
“On my way, doll.” Bucky spoke up. “Keep talking to me.” He told you, hoping to distract you from your pain. “Let me know where you are.”
You sighed. “Alright.” You agreed before telling him where to find you.
The rest of the team waited in the quinjet while Bucky rushed to get to you. They had moved from the meet up point before he’d left them, so that he knew where to find them. Tony kept his eyes on the entrance, jaw tight. “She’ll be fine.” Wanda told him. “It was her thigh. If anything, she’ll have to relax for a bit.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll ask her if she wants a movie marathon.”
“She’s in pain, Wanda.” He reminded her. “Bad enough she was worrying about passing out. That doesn’t sound fine to me.” He sighed, not looking at her. “At all.”
No one else bothered to try to calm him down, knowing it was useless. Until he saw you, he’d be worried. Then, it would shift to worry about you healing. People getting injured on missions was nothing new. It happened. They all knew that it bothered him so much more because it was you.
Once he spotted Bucky, you in his arms, he relaxed the tiniest bit. Your head was against Bucky’s shoulder, and your eyes were closed. “She passed out about halfway here.” He said softly, moving to lay you down. “Used my shirt as a tourniquet.” He explained, noting the raised eyebrow Nat was shooting his way. “I would have used hers, but…” He sighed, motioning to your blood stained shirt.
“JARVIS, get us home.” Tony demanded, watching Bruce start to work on you. He cut your shirt up the middle, showing that your stomach wounds weren’t as bad as the shirt made it look. That was a minor comfort to him, though. The worst of it was a gash closest to the top of your pants. Letting out a sigh, he hoped they could get you more comfortable back at the tower.
Groaning, you slowly opened your eyes to see Tony sitting there in a Y/F/C shirt. “When’d you get that?” You asked, licking your dry lips.
He looked up, grinning. “Uh, I had Nat go get it for me.” He chuckled. “Last night, while you were still out. I know it’s your favorite color.” He moved to sit on the side of your bed. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, taking your hand.
“Like I got hit by a bus.” You told him honestly. “I didn’t think I was that bad.” You admitted.
“I think that’s the drugs he gave you.” He shrugged. “The ‘good’ stuff.” He winked. “It’ll ease up, I’m sure.” He assured you. “Oh, and Wanda is currently finding nearly every Disney movie she can find.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “She thought it would be fun to have a movie marathon, and for some reason, she has her heart set on Disney.” He chuckled.
You smiled. “She’s sweet.” You said softly. “Can I count on you to join us for a couple?” You asked shyly.
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He promised you, kissing your forehead. “Now, I’ll let Bruce check you out while I go order dinner.” He got up. “My place, or here?” He teased.
“Depends on what the doctor says.” You chuckled. “See you for dinner.”
Bruce had said it was okay for you to leave, but walking wasn’t happening. That left you to either use a wheelchair, or be carried. You couldn’t use crutches, as that would stretch your stomach, and that would pull on the stitches on your lower stomach. You’d gone with the wheelchair (even if Bucky and Steve volunteered to carry you).
Rolling out of the elevator onto Tony’s floor, you smiled when you saw Pepper. “Hey.” You greeted her.
She turned. “Y/N!” She smiled. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Tony told me what happened.” She said, coming over to hug you. “How’re you feeling?” She asked gently.
“Well, I’m not in a ‘hospital’ bed anymore, so much better.” You joked. “Oh, since I don’t know when we’re doing the whole Christmas exchange thing, you can go get your present? I know you go see family, too.” You smiled. “My presents are in a box on my living room floor. Yours is in a medium sized box.”
“I think I’d rather wait to do mine with everyone else.” She told you. “Even if it’s not until after the New Year. You guys are my family, too.” She reminded you.
Tony came in, making you attempt to turn your wheelchair. “I hate this thing.” You muttered, getting stuck half way.
“Pepper, can you roll her to the living room?” He asked, hands full of food. “I’ll get everything set up.” He told her, smiling.
She nodded, getting behind you. “I know you’d rather roll yourself, but don’t argue.” She said before you could say you could do it yourself. When you sighed, she chuckled, and started pushing you. “Looks cozy in here.” She looked around. Tony had a blanket and pillows in front of the fire place.
“Thanks, Pepper.” He said, putting everything down. “I can take it from here.” He moved over to hug her. “Merry Christmas.” He smiled.
“Merry Christmas. Both of you.” She hugged him back before waving to you.
“Merry Christmas.” You waved. Once she was gone, you smiled at Tony. “So, dinner by a fire?” You asked shyly. “I’ll need help getting down there.” You pointed out.
He moved over to gently lift you out of your chair. “Of course.” He got you settled on a pillow before getting the food. “What would you like to drink?” He asked, taking things out of the bags.
“Well, Bruce still has me on pain killers. So, soda?” You chuckled.
“One Y/F soda coming up.” He said easily, going to get a drink for each of you. He hoped that you weren’t weirded out by him trying to show you how much he cared about you.
Sitting on the couch, your leg over Wanda’s lap as you finished up The Little Mermaid. “What’s next?” You asked her, as she was the one who had set this up.
“Enchanted.” She smiled. “It doesn’t get enough credit for being amazing.” She said quickly. “It’s one of my favorites.” She popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth.
You had to admit, you saw why this was a favorite. It had you giggling, and you loved Pip. “Okay, Pip is the best.” You grinned.
“Right?” She agreed easily. “He was my text tone for awhile.” She chuckled.
When ‘That’s How You Know’ came on, you started to listen and your jaw dropped. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.” You gasped.
“What?” She paused it, looking at you confused. “What’s wrong?”
You looked at her. “Tony’s done all that!” You stared at her. “Literally. I don’t even think he’d know, as I can’t see him watching this.” You explained. “A couple months ago? He left me a note and sunflowers because it was dreary out. He asked me to that Christmas ball thing and danced with me as much as he could. When I woke up after the mission? He was wearing my favorite color shirt. And then when I got out? He got us dinner…which we ate in front of the fire in his living room.” You grabbed your phone to text him.
You stared at your phone. “Hey, can you help me back into my chair? I need to go see Tony.” You swallowed, looking at her.
She smiled and gently moved your leg. “Yeah, I think I can do that.” She nodded.
Hearing the elevator to his labs, he looked over to see you rolling in. “So…” You said shyly. “You love me?” You asked him.
“Yeah, I do.” He smiled. “Have for awhile.” He shrugged, setting his phone down before making his way to you. “Thought you were mad or something.” He blushed lightly, a look that you weren’t used to seeing on him.
“No wonder my phone was going off so much.” You teased. “I’m not mad, Tony.” You promised him. “Not even close.” You grinned up at him. “I love you, too.” You admitted softly. “I just don’t think it really hit me until that damn song.” You giggled.
He crouched so you didn’t have to look up at him anymore. “So, can I take you on a real date?” He asked.
You nodded. “Once I can walk.” You chuckled. “A wheelchair in New York? I give major props to anyone who is can do that. I, however, don’t think I’d last more than five minutes before I want to hurt someone.” You admitted.
“Deal.”
“Ready for your first dance, Mrs. Stark?” Tony asked, your hand in his.
You smiled over at him. “I’ve been ready.” You told him easily. “Let’s get out there and start this party.” You leaned over to peck his lips.
He kissed you back. “There’s one part of that song I missed.” He pointed out, making you raised an eyebrow at him. “I never dedicated a song to you.”
“You’re thinking of that now?” You teased. “After three years?” You asked.
“Yup.” He laughed. “I’ll have to change that after I spin you around that dance floor.”
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hi!! i’ve had this concept in my head for a while and i love your writing style so i thought you would be perfect to ask. so reader is new to the compound, like helping out in the lab but not necessarily on the team, and because of that when she tries forming relationships with people on the team she’s kind of pushed to the side. bucky sees this and feels for her since he was kind of treated the same when he was new, so he starts becoming friends with her and building a relationship with her. then he starts involving her in things the team does like dinners or movie nights. and when they’re around each other the team can obviously see that they like each other as more than friends. you can develop it more from there but that’s kind of the base line for my idea!!
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: Being new to the compound isn’t easy, luckily you have a supersoldier on your side
Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, reader wears glasses (no other description of reader though), Bucky thinks reader is cute, Tony is kind of a huge dick, vague implications of smut but no smut (blink and you’ll miss it), I suck at endings, they are in love, no use of Y/N
Word Count: 2.780k
“Hey, uh, Glasses, I need you to run these samples for me.” You look up and see Tony walking into the lab, straight to your table. You look around, not sure if he was talking to you, but you’re alone in the lab, given that it was almost midnight, but you had to finish the reports from the samples that Steve dropped off in the morning.
You were swamped in work, not even taking a lunch break, desperate to finish everything so that you could go back to your room in the compound and take a shower. It felt like you’ve been stuck in the lab for days on end. The Avengers having back to back missions and you being the only lab tech without a family to go home to, you were stuck working insane hours.
“Mr. Stark, can these wait until the morning? I'm still working on the reports from Captain Rogers.” Tony heaves a great sigh, clearly exasperated by your reluctance to do his work, knowing damn well he can run these samples a lot quicker with the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y. but he just doesn’t want to. Might as well make the overworked lab tech do it.
“The old man can wait until tomorrow for his report, just get mine done. If he has a problem, he can take it up with me. Goodnight, Penny.” And just like that, he walks off. You know for sure that he didn’t hear you correct him when he got your name wrong. Honestly, where did he even get Penny from? You’re so stressed you feel like you could cry, which pisses you off more. It made you feel weak when you would cry when you were frustrated but you couldn’t help it.
It's been like this since you got the job at the compound. At first you thought that this would be an amazing opportunity, getting to work side by side with the Avengers. In reality, you stay cooped up in the lab most of the day, getting overworked, and only see the Avengers when they stop by to give you more work.
Of course, you understand that being a superhero is hard work, but a little courtesy goes a long way. It would be a nice change of pace if someone acknowledged your efforts. You push Steve’s reports to the side and start working on Tony’s samples, knowing that this is going to take all night, but you don’t really have a choice. It needs to be done and you’re the only one in the lab.
The sound of the door opening jolts you awake, a piece of paper stuck to your face with drool. “Hey, do you have those reports for me?” You groan and look at Steve. The clock on the wall reads 6:03 AM, ever the early riser, Steve is. You must have fallen asleep sometime last night trying to finish the work Tony gave you, which is just as incomplete as Steve’s reports.
“Sorry, Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark gave me an urgent request that needed priority.” You keep your head down, ashamed to look at him.
“I gave you those samples in the morning. How are the reports not done?” He has his hands on his hips with the disappointed father's look on his face, making you feel even worse. You really are trying your best, but you’re burnt out and can't do everything at once.
“I’m sorry, I’ll have them done by early afternoon. I can drop them off if you’d like?” God, you feel so stupid! Steve just waves you off with a “I’ll come back after lunch for them” and leaves you to your own thoughts.
You get Steve’s reports done before lunch and continue to work on finishing Tony’s when the lab doors open again. Without looking up you slide Steve’s reports to him. “They’re done Captain Rogers.”
“It’s not Steve.” You push your glasses up on your nose and see Bucky standing before your table, quite awkwardly as well, shuffling on his feet with his right hand in his pocket, left hanging down limply at his side.
“Sergeant Barnes, how can I help you?” You’ve always had a crush on Bucky, but he was the only Avenger who hasn’t come into your lab - ever. Matter of fact, he avoids the lab like the plague, which is understandable given that he was experimented on for years.
“It’s my arm, I can’t move it.” After a few seconds of silence he adds on, “The metal one. Usually, I can recalibrate it myself but I think it has something to do with the plates.” He looks so vulnerable; Bucky’s not used to asking for help, rather always helping someone else.
“I can take a look at it if you want.” You assume that’s why he came down to the lab, not just to chit chat with you. He nods and you lead him to a lab chair. “Can you take your shirt off for me?” Bucky’s eyebrows hit his hairline and his jaw drops. “I need to see your arm, Sergeant.” Now both of you are blushing.
It takes him a little while but he gets his shirt off and stares at the floor, embarrassed of the scars surrounding his arm. “Can I touch your arm, Sergeant?” Bucky eyes widen; he’s not used to someone asking permission to touch his arm. If he doesn’t wear his gloves in public, people will stare and point, some even trying to touch his hand to get a better look at the silver arm. Bucky hates it: the arm, the stares, the scars, everything.
He mumbles a confirmation and watches you work on his arm. He thinks you’re cute, with glasses that make your eyes look slightly magnified and how you stick your tongue out when you concentrate. You’ve always hated your glasses, thinking that they make you look bug eyed, but Bucky thinks that it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. There are bags under your eyes, which makes Bucky frown. Stark is overworking you.
After a few minutes you look up and see Bucky staring at you and you both quickly look away. “One of the plates near your shoulder came loose and disrupted the signal to the rest of the arm. That’s why you couldn’t move it. It’s fixed now and you should be good to go, Sergeant.”
Before Bucky could say anything, Tony enters. “Penn, those reports done yet or are you too busy with Terminator over there?” You ignore Bucky’s confused who’s Penn? and give Tony the finished half of his reports, hoping against hope that he won’t tear you a new one in front of Bucky.
“Uh, Glasses, where is the other half?”
“I didn’t get to them all last night and then Captain Rogers needed his reports this morning. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.” Not only did you not finish Tony’s reports on time, but you were also late with Steve’s, on top of getting minimal sleep and not eating. The humiliation is seeping through your pores. You’re letting your idols down in real time, seeing their disappointment right in front of you.
“I told you to prioritize my samples, not Rogers.” Bucky is still in his chair, watching, ready to jump to your defense. He doesn’t like the way Tony is talking to you. Little do you know, but Bucky sometimes comes down to the lab to watch you work, never entering, God no. He’d look like a creep. But the sweet lab tech caught his attention the moment you arrived.
“I know, but I fell behind and Captain Rogers said-”
“I don’t care what Rogers said. I told you-”
“Back off Stark, if you want them done, do it yourself.” Bucky was pissed; you are too sweet for your own good, letting people boss you around and bending over backwards for them. Not when Bucky is around.
Before Tony can continue to argue with Bucky, F.R.I.D.A.Y. calls him away for a meeting, leaving you and Bucky in the lab alone. “Sergeant Barnes, you didn’t have to do that. Those reports should have been done anyway; it was my fault.” How pathetic is it to have someone you hardly know see your faults.
“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, doll. You’re only one person and you're doing your best.” He’s a lot closer to you now and you can smell his cologne, making your head feel all fuzzy. “Thank you for helping me with my arm, too.”
“Thank you for letting me, Sergeant, I know that was difficult for you.” You’re looking up at him through your thick frames, eyes larger than they actually are, bags under your eyes, but Bucky thinks you’ve never been prettier. Or maybe it’s because he’s never seen you up close, but you are the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, 40’s or not.
“Call me Bucky.”
After that, Bucky was in the lab almost everyday. For a while he would claim to have some strange ailment until you told him that he didn’t have to feign injury to visit, which made him blush. He would spend his lunch in the lab, making sure that you were eating, too. Bucky is a very observant man, and on his trips to the lab, before he first talked to you, he would see how overworked you were and how you barely ate.
He made it his mission to keep you well fed and get you out of the lab at a decent hour, giving a death glare to agents trying to drop off samples after a certain hour.
Outside of the lab, Bucky was your only friend at the compound; although, he’s never hand fed Steve in bed while watching old movies. Bucky felt comfortable around you, even more so than with Steve. Bucky and you had a special bond - he would confide in you when you would both be awake at the unholy hours of night and you would do the same. He trusted you not to tell anyone else and, to him, it was easier to talk to you than Steve.
Steve had a tendency to look at Bucky as if he was a sick puppy, and Bucky hated that, he hated the pity. He didn’t want to be treated like precious glass, and you allowed him to be vulnerable without making him feel like he was falling apart.
Some nights you both would fall asleep in bed together and wake up entangled, those nights were Bucky’s favorites. You were so soft and even though you were so much smaller than him, you made him feel safe and protected. His sweet doll in his bed, keeping the nightmares away.
He loved the way you would squint and search for your glasses on the stand next to the bed, whining when you accidentally knocked them to the floor, or stabbed yourself in the eye trying to put them on.
The entire dynamic of your friendship changed one night. Bucky doesn’t know who moved first, but the two of you kissed, and Bucky can’t remember kisses ever being so good. The two of you only kissed that night, nothing further, but it was the best night that either of you had in a long while. From that day on, he was your old man and you were his old lady.
You both decided to keep your relationship a secret for the time being. You didn’t want the other lab techs to think you were getting special treatment and Bucky didn’t want to deal with the teasing from Sam or the questions from Steve. But Bucky loathed when he would be forced by Steve to join movie nights, alone, without you. Steve wanted what was best for his friend so he would force Bucky to get out more; little did Steve know that Bucky had the best girl waiting for him to come over.
He could tell that you were let down whenever he had to participate in “team bonding.” You wanted to be valued by the team, yet you understood why they never invited you; you weren’t an Avenger, just a lowly lab tech. Nonetheless, it broke Bucky’s heart to see you so despondent, which is why he asked you to join the next movie night, team be damned.
“Come on, doll, it will be fun. I promise.” Bucky holds you close to his chest, laying down next to you under the covers. You roll over, naked chest to naked chest, body still shaking, and bury your face in his neck, breathing him in.
“I’m not even a part of the team, Jamie. What will all your teammates think, huh? The great Bucky Barnes and the weird lab tech: A perfect match. No, they won’t.” Bucky gently grabs both sides of your face, both metal and flesh warm from previous activities, and makes you look him in the eye.
He’s a little blurry since you aren’t wearing your glasses. The lenses would smush against your face everytime he would kiss you with anything more than a chaste kiss, and Bucky Barnes is a passionate kisser in bed. At your slight squint, he pulled you closer to his face so you could see him clearly; blue eyes holding nothing but the utmost love and devotion.
“I don’t give a damn what the team thinks, you hear me? You are my doll and I want to show you off. My sweet little lab tech who’s too kind for her own good. Let them all know how perfect you are.” Your resolve is crumbling like it does every time he looks at you. It is an overwhelming feeling, being the light of someone’s life, being showered with so much love you feel like you can’t breathe, but each breath fills up your lungs with joy and hope.
Bucky nuzzles his nose against yours and you both know you’ll say yes. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth, just as he would for you. “Okay, Jamie, I will, for you.”
Movie night is a week later and you’re on Bucky’s lap where he sits on the recliner. It’s his unofficial seat whenever Steve forces him to these things, stuck in the corner of the room away from everyone else with no seat next to him. At first, no one notices you on Bucky’s lap, curled up into him with tangled limbs not able to tell where Bucky begins and you end.
Steve is the first to notice, doing a double take at the extra bulk in Bucky’s seat, and just as Bucky is observant, so is Steve. Steve had a suspicion that there was something more to Bucky’s disappearances during lunch and the extra food he would take after dinner. Steve just smiles to himself and faces the movie once more, every so often glancing back at the two lovebirds in their own world.
Bucky has no clue what movie they are watching, his sole focus is on you. You had a long day in the lab, yet you held true to your word to join movie night with him, but being curled up in Bucky’s arms was your favorite place to be and before long you were sound asleep, holding onto his metal arm, using it as a pillow. As gently as he could, Bucky took off your glasses and put them atop his head, falling asleep himself before the movie was halfway over.
Sam was the second to notice, and let the rest of the team know as well. “OH. MY. GOD. Tony, where is my phone? I can’t believe this.” The rest of the team look at each other in confusion, following Sam’s line of sight, they see you wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, the both of you sound asleep.
“Is that…Glasses?” Comes from Tony.
“She’s so cute!” Slips from Wanda.
“Who’s Glasses?” is followed by a slap from Nat with a hissed “Thor, shut up, they’re sleeping!”
“Tony, my phone! I need evidence.”
“Terminator’s getting laid?”
“We’re watching Indiana Jones, Stark.”
“Thor, inside voice, we’ve talked about this.”
The teasing from the team is endless the next day, but Bucky doesn’t have it in him to care, he has his sweetheart by his side and they know better than to provoke Bucky. Coincidentally, Tony offers to take some of his samples back to test them himself; Bucky insists that he must have had a change of heart, you don’t believe it for one second, but Bucky will never admit to anything. After all, he has to take care of his sweet girl.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic
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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (LET ME GET WHAT I WANT)
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SUMMARY ↳ ;) Damian and Jon are easy to spot, standing together near a large decorative display. Jon's bright smile is a beacon, and Damian's more reserved demeanor contrasts starkly with his friend. They’re standing in front of a window. It paints the image of being surrounded by snowfall as they chat away. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: threats of bodily harm wc: 4.3k
Nothing quite says party like a Tony Stark party. You distinctly remember your first one. You weren’t even planning to come, but when Tony saw you in bed with pajamas he bullied you into getting dressed. He said that you ‘needed to get out more’, which was bull, but whatever. As payback you drank as much alcohol as you could sneak. The scolding from Steve you got was worth it seeing Tony’s appalled stare.
This time, you intend to stay in bed.
Bruce Wayne has decided to throw a New Year’s Gala, for whatever reason. You think it doubles as a charity, but you don’t know why else he would throw it, nor do you care enough to find out. He did invite you, but you’re not too keen on being perceived by society.
“You look nice,” you muse, seeing Damian in his little formal wear. He’s made a quick stop in your room, for whatever reason. He’s a cute sight, so you’re not complaining.
Damian adjusts the cufflinks on his formal wear. "Thank you," he mutters, glancing away for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "You should come.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Nice try, hun. But I’m really not in the mood to be around a bunch of snooty elites."
He sighs, looking slightly disappointed. "It would be more bearable with you there."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," you tease, reaching out to straighten his tie. "Besides, someone has to stay and hold down the fort. Unless, of course, you’re asking me to be your date?”
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t dignify your comment with a response. Finishing fiddling with his tie, you step back from him. You see his hands twitch just a tad.
“Hi, [Name].” You turn to see Jon poking his head through your doorway, smiling cutely. He steps in, letting you see that he too is dressed up for the party.
“Well shit, look at you,” you grin, eyes roaming his figure.
He spreads his arms out, bashful. “Look at me,” he says, hands coming up to fidget with his tie. “I wasn’t sure about the tie, though. Damian said it was too flashy.”
You chuckle softly. “He’s just jealous he can’t pull it off like you.”
Jon laughs, shaking his head. “Maybe.”
There’s a comfortable silence as you glance between Jon and Damian, both looking unexpectedly nervous in their formal wear. It’s a stark contrast to their usual confident selves when they're out on patrol or facing down villains.
“So,” Jon starts, his tone casual, “are you coming with us?”
“Absolutely not,” you grin. “I do not have the energy to deal with people right now.
Damian huffs softly, exchanging a knowing glance with Jon before turning back to you. "You're missing out on Father's attempt at social philanthropy," he remarks dryly, clearly not a fan of the gala idea either.
Jon nods in agreement, his smile widening. "True, but I guess we'll have to suffer through it together."
You chuckle at their banter, appreciating their effort despite your reluctance. "Well, make sure to bring me back a good story or two. Preferably involving Bruce embarrassing himself on the dance floor."
Jon grins mischievously. "Deal. We'll keep you posted."
As they leave your room, Damian pauses at the door, looking back with a faint smile. "If you change your mind," he offers quietly, "you know where to find us."
You nod, blowing them kisses as they leave. You settle back into your cozy spot, grateful for the quiet evening ahead. From here, you can hear the chatter and glasses clinking from partygoers downstairs. You sigh and sink into your bed with no further plans for the night. Just as you start to drift into a more relaxed state, your thoughts briefly return to Damian and Jon.
Damian. Damian is so complex. So rich in character. He carries an air of absoluteness around him. Every now and again you have that realization that everybody around you is living their own complex lives. You guess that realization hits harder, since you had never entertained the thought of him being real. Foolish on your pat, with what you know.
Jon, Jon exudes a warmth that contrasts with Damian's reserved nature. His easy going manner and quick smile charm you so. Only he, who gets his powers from the sun, could shine so bright. He's the kind of person who can brighten any room he enters.
The sounds of the party drift up faintly, a reminder of the world outside your cozy sanctuary. For now, you're content to enjoy this peaceful moment to yourself, letting your eyes drift close.
.
.
.
“Hello?” a voice echoes out. It’s yours. An amalgamation of bright lights closes in on itself behind you. Footsteps echo as you walk down the alley. You don’t hear any civilians walking and talking or any cars going down the roads. New York is quiet tonight.
Swinging up onto a building, you began making your way across the city. The eerie silence is unnerving you. The usual hustle and bustle is conspicuously absent, replaced by an unsettling calm. In fact, New York is… completely dark. Not one apartment light is on.
Avengers tower looms over the city. It’s the only building with—some—light. The building… isn’t really a building. Half of it is gone, jagged and broken edges pointing skyward. Cracks litter the walls, glass broken.
Your footsteps echo softly as you approach the tower. The air feels heavy with a sense of desolation. There’s pieces of broken armor and weapons. Flickering lights casting eerie shadows.
As you move through the ruins, a faint voice calls out—a whisper carried on the wind. You turn, but there's no one there. The silence intensifies, punctuated only by the distant sound of your own breathing.
Suddenly, a figure appears before you—a spectral image of Tony Stark, his armor battered and glowing faintly. His eyes meet yours with a mixture of sorrow and determination.
"You were supposed to be here," he murmurs, his voice echoing in the empty chamber. "Where were you?”
You reach out, but your hand passes through his ethereal form. He fades slowly, leaving you alone. You see a broken red, white and blue shield in the distance.
“No, no, nononono. This wasn’t supposed to happen–”
There’s a woman behind you. She seems familiar. “You left us.”
You left them. All to die.
There’s a piercing scream as you're sucked into an explosion of colors below you. You try to reach out, to grab onto something, but there’s no one there.
You sit up with a gasp, suddenly at a loss for breath. Your body is tense and sweaty and you’re breathing heavily. Your heartbeat is booming in your ears. It feels like it’s going to burst from your chest. The sensation of falling fades as you orient yourself to the familiar surroundings of your room.
You glance around, reassuring yourself with the reality of your peaceful sanctuary. The sounds of the party downstairs continue to drift up faintly, a distant reminder of the world outside your door. You rub your temples, trying to dispel the last traces of the unsettling dream.
Taking a deep breath, you reach for a glass of water on your bedside table, sipping slowly to calm your nerves. “Karen, how long was I asleep?”
“Only an hour.”
You bury your face in your hands, breathing. Sometimes you think your mind is your biggest enemy. You should’ve figured, really. You haven’t had a proper nightmare since you’ve gotten here. It was only a matter of time.
“Might I suggest heading to the Den to take your mind off things?” Karen's voice is soft, achingly so. It’s comforting.
You don’t respond verbally, only nodding your head. You throw off the covers sluggishly, still trying to ground yourself. You put on the first clothes you find. They’re definitely not gala material, but that’s fine. You’ll only pop in to tell someone where you’re going.
Titus is loitering the halls, but he comes to you when he sees you out and about. He sniffs you, gruffing like he’s disturbed by something. Maybe he can sense that you’re a little unnerved right now. You give him good pets before moving on past him.
The grandeur of the gala spills out into the hallway, the lights casting a warm, inviting glow. Chatter floods your ears as you arrive just outside the entrance to the grand room. The place is perfectly lit up and shiny. The sounds of laughter and conversation form a stark contrast to the silence of your dream, grounding you.
Damian and Jon are easy to spot, standing together near a large decorative display. Jon's bright smile is a beacon, and Damian's more reserved demeanor contrasts starkly with his friend. They’re standing in front of a window. It paints the image of being surrounded by snowfall as they chat away.
You hesitate at the entrance, your eyes drawn to Jon and Damian standing together. The way Jon's eyes light up when he looks at Damian, and the small, almost imperceptible smile that tugs at Damian's lips in response, speaks volumes. They stand close, their bodies angled toward each other.
Damian reaches out to brush away a curl from Jon's face. Jon smiles, mouthing something. He talks animatedly, eyes bright. Damian watches. Fondly, you realize, he’s watching. There’s even a little small smile on his face. It puts a matching one on your face. It reminds you of Pepper and Tony, the way they look at each other.
Like they’re in love.
…
Oh.
Oh.
Holy shit, they’re in love, aren’t they? Holy shit. How did you not notice? Well… you’re not often hanging out with both of them at the same time, are you? You know they hang out on their own without you. They were friends before they knew you of course. Since they were children. Oh God, you hope they aren’t, like, secretly dating or anything. You’ve been flirting with them, but it was playful! You swear!
.
.
.
God, what have you been doing?
You need to get home. You’re not supposed to be here. You should be at the tower, playing darts with Clint, or looking for colleges you want to go to. Not here, not pretending like everything is fine, everything is normal, everything is how it’s supposed to be. You’ve forgotten yourself, gotten too comfortable. You feel a sudden detachment, like a thread just snapped. This is a borrowed fantasy.
Like clockwork, you put on a grin, baring your teeth. You take a step back, the sounds of the party fading into the background. It's as if everything is moving in slow motion, every sound is distant and every breath is drawn out. The party fades away as you turn, making your way towards the exit. Each step feels heavy, like you're carrying a weight you can't quite name.
All you hear is a constant ringing in your ear as you swing from building to building. There are people in the streets, no doubt celebrating the incoming new year. The city seems especially alive, lights twinkling. You’re grateful you can’t feel the biting cold air thanks to your suit. You fear you’re already feeling too much right now.
By the time you reach the familiar tunnel, your stomach is in knots. You’re on autopilot as you move the rubble, climbing in. The cute fairy lights feel too bright now. Your mask retracts, letting you breathe in.
You grab a screwdriver, not yet knowing what you’re going to do. “You might be able to finish before midnight,” chimes Karen.
Really? Had you been that far along in your progress? Oh. Maybe you knew and just forgot. You don’t really know right now. Your legs feel stiff as you approach the particle accelerator, screwing in a part tight. You work methodically, hands steady despite the turmoil in your mind. Each screw, each connection, each calibration is a step closer to completion, closer to... what? A return to your old life?
Karen's voice interrupts your thoughts gently, "You're almost done. Just a few more adjustments."
You nod absently, tightening another screw. The particle accelerator is nearly ready. Your mind drifts to the dream again—Tony, the absence of life, your home that you don’t recognize. "You left us," echoes in your mind.
Finally, the last screw is in place. You step back, wiping a hand down your face, and take a deep breath. The machine hums with a soft, steady power. It's ready. You're ready. Or at least, the machine is.
You stand back, staring at the particle accelerator with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. The steady hum of the machine fills the air, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. It's a portal, a bridge to another reality (the start of one, at least) another chance to set things right—or at least, to find some semblance of peace.
You insert a prism into it, making sure it’s secure. “Initializing…” hums Karen. The particle accelerator hums, lights flickering on and running down it. Sound whirls as you grab the little wheel you attached to it. “Approaching maximum power.”
The machine shakes as you turn the wheel. The prism turns, guiding a light. The light cuts through the space, producing fire and sparks where it hits. It cuts an old pipe in half. Whoops.
In front of you, lies an object akin to that of Tony Stark's arc reactor. Of course, it’s not actually an arc reactor, it’s just there to hold the new element. The light pierces and cuts until finally, it reaches its target. You think you hear the prism chime as the light hits the little triangle in the holder. You know that that’s the case when the chime gets louder as the light gets brighter. Brighter, brighter, brighter—oh.
You turn the machine off, looking at the glowing creation. The light fades, showing you the bright glowing triangle that is the new element. You sigh in content.
You duck under the particle accelerator, approaching the mimic arc reactor. Your fingers flex in anticipation, reaching out. The claws of your suit clink against the tiny triangle as you pick it up.
“Congratulations, [Name]. You’ve successfully recreated Tony Stark’s new element.”
You hum. “Well, couldn’t have done it without you and your awesome know-it-all abilities, my dear.”
A symphony of crackles, pops, and booms that fill your ears. Each pop rattles off as it fades. Oh, the fireworks. Is it…
“What time is it, K?”
“It is currently twelve AM, on the dot. I think this was an appropriate way to start the new year, don’t you?”
You chuckle, bowing your head. “Happy New Year.” You wonder if Damian and Jon… no. Probably shouldn’t think about that.
“Happy New Year, [Name].”
“...Happy New Year…”
You whirl around, fist tightly curling around the badassium. There’s no one there. Um. Were you imagining things? Oh, you see now, a figure there in the corner. A figure, somebody. Somebody that looks like…
Looks like…
“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now…”
How did your senses not pick up on them?
“I… don’t know what I’m doing here myself.”
They’re stepping closer to you.
“I guess… well. I don’t know.”
It’s… it’s…
“But I do know… that I’m sorry. I was… I shouldn’t have done what I did.”
It’s the spider… the one from the warehouse. The reason why you’re here.
“You…” Suddenly, you can’t breathe.
They clasp their hands behind their back, looking around the room. Then they look at you. Stare at you. The eyes of their suit squint as they take in your face. “Pretty cozy place. More cozy than mine, that’s for sure.”
You put down the badassium, afraid you’ll break it in your fist. They turn to look at it, then at the particle accelerator. “You work fast. Faster than me. It took me way too long to make that big stupid thing. I didn’t have any blueprints or even confirmation that it would work, but–”
A scratchy yell erupts from your mouth as you pounce at them. They dodge, fucking spidey senses.
They hold out their hands. “Woah woah woah, wait–”
You don’t wait. You lunge at them again, claws swiping out to them. It lands, leaving behind red. They don’t have an armored suit like yours. You have the advantage.
They scramble out of your way, knocking over things as they go. “Please–”
You grab their suit at their collarbone, pulling them to you. “You!”
“Me?” they squeak.
“You’re the reason I’m fucking stuck here!”
“I know I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! I was being stupid! I just–”
“I don’t care,” you growl, showing your fangs. Your shoulders flex, releasing the nano spider legs. They emerge hauntingly, their sharpened points glinting, poised and ready to strike.
“You know, I’m not really like the other spiders. Most of ‘em anyways,” you drawl. “Apart from being the only [Name] I know, my moral compass is a roulette wheel. I’m a hero of course, I save who need saving, and punish who needs punishing.”
“Truth is,” you lean in, eyes wide and flickering with hot pink, “I am much more keen to violence than the others. I’ve killed people. A couple of people, actually,” you admit, voice low and intense. “Doesn’t make me a true good person, of course, but it does make the world a bit safer for those that are.”
They try to struggle free, but you hold them firm. "I'm going to figure out what you need. So tell me, what the fuck are you doing?”
They sniff, taking in a deep breath. “I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t hurt people.” Their hands quiver as they latch onto yours. “I just wanted to go home, and I thought you were gonna stop me–”
You growl and they yelp. “It’s not an excuse! I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s my explanation. I just.. I felt bad. I was…” they pause.
“I was working on this machine. A particle accelerator,” they sigh, oblivious to the way your ears start ringing. “I was messing around, and I got stuck in your universe. I tried to go back home. I tried for so long, acting like everything was normal, like I belonged but I… I had to go back home.” Their voice gets wobbly. “I spent so long there, I got desperate.”
They start sniffling, and you know they’re crying. “I thought, if I could find where you went… I could help you get back to your universe. So what happened to me won’t happen to you.” They take a step back. Oh, did you let them go? “I can’t take you with me. Other things can't pass through my portal without turning to dust, but…”
They reach into a pocket, pulling out a small, intricate device. It glows softly in their hand, emitting a faint, steady pulse.
“...What is it?” you croak.
"It's a catalyst," they explain, their voice still shaky. "It’s what I used to stabilize the rift. You know, so my atoms wouldn’t get scattered across space.”
Your gaze narrows, skeptical of the device in their hand. "Why should I trust you?" you demand, voice edged with exhaustion and anger.
They take a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a mix of desperation and sincerity. "You shouldn’t,” they admit. "But I know what it's like. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone."
You stare at the catalyst, the faint pulse mesmerizing. "And if this doesn't work? If you're lying?"
You feel their eyes on you through their mask, voice filled with regret and determination. "Then you can do whatever you think is necessary. But I promise you, I'm not lying."
Your silence hangs heavy between you. The sounds of the fireworks outside are distant echoes, reminding you of the world outside this tense moment. Finally, you reach out and take the catalyst from their hand, feeling its weight and the subtle hum of energy within.
“You really want to help?” you whisper, fist curling around the catalyst. “Find Miguel O'Hara from Earth-928.” Your grip tightens around the catalyst as you step back, letting the weight of the moment settle in. The stranger stands still, their eyes fixed on you through their mask. You can see the weariness in their posture, the heaviness of their own burdens reflected in their stance.
“Find him, and tell him where I am.”
They nod slowly. “I’ll find him. I promise.” Their voice holds a note of determination.
You step back and wave an arm. “Just go.” You’re well and truly done with everything at the moment.
They stand for a moment, looking at you. Looking through you. Then they turn away, and all you see is an eruption of bright and colorful light, before it’s gone just as fast as it came. The Den feels unfamiliar to you now.
You sink to the floor, mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. Sound is distant, the only thing you hear is a loud ringing. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, chest heaving. Your face feels wet. Ah, it’s tears. You’re crying. Why are you crying?
“–me]! [Name]! Come on, come back. I’m here, it’s okay–”
“Jon?” Is that your voice?
An arm curls around your shoulder and crowds you into his embrace. His warmth contrasts starkly with the cold dread that had settled in your chest. He holds you tightly, his presence grounding you. You cling to Jon like a lifeline, his warmth grounding you in the present.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, hand smoothing down your back.
Sniffling, you sink into his embrace. “What are you doing here?” you mutter.
“Where else should I be?” With Damian. “I stuck my ear out, heard your heart beating fast. And the sound of you… well.”
You sigh heavily, cheek against his chest, listening to his own heartbeat. It's strong and steady, everything you want to be. “My heartbeat?”
He nods against your head. “Your heartbeat.”
You sigh again, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. “Oh, Jon...”
"Shh," he soothes, his hand still moving gently along your back. "You don't have to say anything right now."
"I don't deserve you," you murmur into his chest, your voice barely audible.
Jon tightens his hold on you, his voice firm yet gentle. "Don't say that. Please don’t say that."
You take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the night’s events settling over you. Jon’s presence is a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Jon.”
He tilts your chin up gently, his blue eyes filled with concern and determination. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”
You don’t say anything, simply resting your head against him. His lips press against your forehead, gently and warm.
“In other news,” you sniffle, moving to get out of his embrace. He holds on to your for a moment, uncertain. But a persistent tug from you makes his arms drop. You reach up, grabbing the small glowing triangle. “Look what I made.”
He eyes the small thing in your claws. “What is it?”
“The badassium. The new element that I’ve created.” You rock it around gently. “I did it.”
Jon's eyes widen with surprise and admiration as he gazes at the glowing triangle in your hand. "That's incredible," he says, reaching out to gently touch the shimmering surface.
You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the lingering heaviness in your chest.
He looks up at you, his expression softening with concern. "Are you... okay?"
You hesitate, unsure how to answer. Instead of words, you hand him the glowing badassium, letting him examine it closely. The warmth of his touch is grounding. He studies it, turning it this way and that, before looking at you again. He puts it down where it was, coming back to you to hold your hand.
“You’re incredible,” he breathes. You don’t have any words, so you keep your mouth shut.
“...Wanna go home?” he asks tentatively. You nod. He slowly steps forward, kneeling down and hooking his arms under your legs and back when you show no sign of hesitance. Jon lifts you effortlessly, cradling you close as he stands. You rest your head against his shoulder, eyes feeling heavy.
“I'm not invalid, Jon.”
“Just let me take care of you.” He shouldn't say things like that.
He makes sure that the Den is properly blocked and hidden by the rubble. After that, all you feel in the cold air biting at your cheeks as he flies you across the city. The lights below blur into streaks of color as you soar through the night sky. You cling to him, feeling the steady rhythm of his flight beneath you.
People are still at Wayne Manor as you approach, lights shining bright. Jon serves around the side, pulling up to your room's window. You sigh in relief as he gently sets you down in your room.
You see Damian rush over to you both, suit jacket forgotten. Was he waiting here for you?”
“Where were you?” he demands, hands coming up to rest on your arms. His concern is evident, his eyes searching yours for answers.
Jon steps forward, his hand resting on Damian's shoulder. "It doesn’t matter now. They’re okay," he reassures Damian, who nods slightly, though the crease in his brow doesn’t go away.
"Sorry," you say sincerely, looking at both of them, "for worrying you." You gently push Damian’s hands off you and go to your bed. Your clothes are comfortable enough, you decide. The soft pillow feels heavenly as you sink into the mattress. Hands come up the pull your blanket over you, lightly caressing your forehead before leaving.
Hushed voices bickering are the last thing you hear before darkness pulls you in.
notes: so... how we feeling? LOL
ngl i feel like the reasoning is cheap but how y'all liking the parallel? it'll make more sense later on, i promise ;)
also am i evil for using the "oh. oh." in that context? yes. yes i am
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