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#tony is honestly unsure of what he just witnessed
marvel-lous-guy · 1 year
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Peter: when you ask for someone's name, you're essentially asking them what noise you should make to get their attention
Tony: Kid, what the fuck?
Harley: we should ditch names. You can get my attention by making the squeal of a bat bathing in cranberry juice on the night of a full moon.
Tony: ...
Peter: *viciously squeaks*
Harley: yes?
Peter: you wanna get pizza?
Harley: absolutely
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moonlayl · 3 years
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Straight up, what Wanda’s doing is wrong. Do I understand why she’s doing it? yes. Does it erase how wrong it is and make it right? No. Is her grief a good enough reason to hurt so many innocent people? No. However, this entire situation is far too complicated, and it’s ridiculous to jump to conclusions without all the knowledge first.
1.) Sword is shady as hell. The entire sword storyline feels like shield before the hydra reveal. Monica’s feelings and discomfort with the way sword is doing things is a direct parallel to Steve in Winter Soldier. I was getting the same vibes. Also, if Wanda broke into a sword facility several days before, why was it only brought up now? Why didn’t Hayward mention it the moment he discovered Wanda was in the town (back when they thought she was being mindcontrolled as well). Wouldn’t that have already answered how Vision was alive (because they were questioning it) and also helped them realize Wanda was probably the cause of what’s happening? And no one say “they didn’t know” there were too many witnesses and it’s clearly Wanda in the footage. Something as big as that would’ve immediately traveled fast, and the director would’ve learned about it right away. Something is up with Hayward. Not to mention, how he was just willing to shoot Wanda in front of her kids and other innocent people he supposedly wanted to save? It was too risky, and honestly made no logical sense. Something else is at play here. (and why was vision’s body with sword?)
2.) Despite the fact that Wanda is control, it really didn’t seem like she was in the first two episodes. sure she had a bit of control, but it didn’t seem like she truly realized what was happening until Monica said “Ultron”. Even now, it seems like she’s in denial. Like she’s confused and unsure. I don’t think she realized what she was doing was hurting people (again, I’m not trying to defend her, but that’s literally what I got from her facial expressions.) I think something triggered her, or someone else who’s powerful is behind the scenes as well, and that she actually doesn’t have all the answers. Look at how she reacted when she saw her brother. She was shocked. I don’t think she’s doing everything. We’ll have to wait and see.
The thing is, as much as I disagree with what Wanda’s doing, both sides of the fandom is pissing me off. Either you’ve got people talking about how “she should be left alone” which, no, she’s holding a town hostage and controlling them against their will, or you’ve got people saying “she’s evil, or she’s bad now” (usually tony stans who are talking about how it’s worse than being a war criminal and bombing third world countries -_-) which again, no, because it really seems like a part of her isn’t in control and she doesn’t truly realize what’s happening. What Wanda needs, is help. And sword trying to kill her without even trying to talk to her is wrong on so many levels. Right now, she’s scared of losing vision and her two children and she wants to protect them. I don’t know why she’s so into Westview, or why she can’t just create a new place and take her family there, but that’s something I hope is answered. point is, she’s been through a lot, and I think everything that happened made her unlock powers she never even knew she had and it’s causing all of this. Is she in the wrong? yes. Is it fair to say she’s evil and doesn’t care? no. She really needs help, and sword is going about this the wrong way. Plus, it makes sense for her to distrust them because she hasn’t had a good history with governments, and the sokovia accords are still at play (they take away her human rights). She probably believes they’ll try to take away the twins from her and probably try to experiment on them or something, and they’ll take away vision (who died to save the world, so them essentially).
My main point is, I don’t like how Wanda is being both woobified and demonized. It’s not black and white. She definitely has to let them go, and face consequences, but not the way sword’s going about it, and she’s not evil.
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bluskai · 3 years
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fond adieu | p.p.
➤ pairing: peter parker x reader
➤ warnings: angst
➤ notes: so I finished rereading call me by your name and now I'm in pain. 
➤ more: masterlist | smut reblog blog
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Her chest felt tight and her eyes seemed to gloss over with unshed tears, the weight of all the emotions she was feeling, held in those moments where it felt like time stood still.
There he stood. Young and fresh-faced as he was when he died in Tony’s arms 5 years ago. But here she was, no longer 16 and no longer his. A lot had happened in those 5 years. 
“Y/N?” And there it was that unsure boyish charm that always had an air of hesitation in it when he addressed her. 
“Hey, Peter.”
After Tony’s funeral, he asked if they could talk, noticing the stranger whose hands stayed on her waist the whole procession. 
So there they were, in this little cafe that Y/N had suggested, still clad in all black. 
“So... What’s his name?” Peter asked finally, breaking the silence that lingered between sips of black coffee and some frappuccino type thing that she hated. Well, she didn’t always hate it. She loved it once. But then the world turned to shit, and then the frappuccino was too sweet. 
“Henry.”
Then the silence lingered once again. 
“Look, Peter I- I don’t know what to say. Truly.” 
Rubbing her temples, she pursed her lips and sat back. Peter noticed how she had matured. Her hair was shorter, it was now a functional straight bob, no longer the carefree waist-length wavy locks that she struggled to keep in an up-do. 
She always swore she’d never cut her hair. 
Then there were the lines on her face where there were never lines, and how she seemed to be stressed, judging by her shaking knee and the fiddling of the napkin.
“I just want to know what happened. That’s all. I-I know a lot has changed, and I’m not asking to go back to the way things were. I just want- I want an explanation.” Peter rushed out in one breath, eyes cast downwards once he finished speaking.
“After you... After, I didn’t know what to do. I stuck with Nat, tried to do good. Help what was left of the world. But how could I? You were my world, Peter.”
At the mention of her mentor and mother figure, Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. 
“But then I went to help this non-profit, something to do with refugees and finding them homes. That’s where I met Henry, he was a journalist covering the story of how the Avengers were now saving the world but without violence.
He saved me from myself, Peter. He taught me how to love again, how to grow. Just before the time heist, I think maybe like a few months before? He asked Tony and Nat for some help, and he proposed. 3 years after we first met.
It was perfect, honestly. Tony was supposed to walk me down the aisle and Nat was supposed to be my maid of honour. I- I don’t know anymore. I’m lost again.”
She knew she was making it about her, which was selfish, but could you blame her? She just lost everything. 
Peter took in a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair, red-rimmed eyes glassed over and just taking it all in. He ran his gaze over someone whom he would have said he knew best in the world, up until what was maybe 2 weeks ago for him. 
She was no longer the same person he knew, yet she was exactly the same. His head was hurting and his vision was spinning, feeling overwhelmed, Peter stood up and walked out of the cafe.
“Peter?”
She had run out after him, concerned eyes and furrowed brows.
Peter let out a humourless chuckle, “You know you almost look like you again when you say my name like that and look like you care.”
“Don’t- Don’t say that. Don’t be like that Peter. You’re lashing out cause you’re hurt, I get it. But don’t pretend like you don’t still care.”
“DON’T PSYCHOANALYSE ME!” Peter shouted all of a sudden, chest heaving and eyes ablaze. 
Y/N seemed taken aback. 
“I- I’m gonna go.”
And he let her. 
It was about another 3 weeks or so before he asked to see her again. Same cafe, same time. 
“Hey, you came.” Peter smiled tiredly, the sparkle in his eyes seem to have dulled a little.
Seeing him like that, Y/N felt bad and so she sat down with her black coffee and smiled. 
“Yeah, I did.”
They talked for hours. Seemingly about nothing and everything at the same time. Peter told her about school and what was new and what wasn’t. Y/N talked about work and answered all of Peter’s questions about Henry. It almost seemed like things could be alright again, after a very long time. But then Y/N let the other shoe drop. 
“I’m getting married, Petey. After... Well, after everything. We kinda... We don’t wanna wait. Ya know?” 
Peter did not look like he knew, but he nodded for her to go on. 
“I- I want you to be there, at my table. If that’s alright with you. I understand if you can’t but... You’re still family to me.” 
There was a suffocating silence that seemed to stretch for miles and mute their senses. 
“Ok.”
“Ok?”
“Yeah, I- I‘d be honoured.” 
Y/N smiled one of the biggest smiles Peter had ever had the pleasure of witnessing, and he almost felt like it was worth the crack he felt in his heart and the silent ache in his chest. 
The day came sooner than Peter was ready for. 
Everyone was there, even some people he didn’t know. Clint was walking Y/N down the aisle, custom suit on and tears in his eyes. Wanda was her maid of honour, looking beautiful in a deep maroon dress that brought out the red in her hair. 
And Y/N...
Well, Peter thought she looked stunning. She was an absolute vision in white, her veil gave her an almost ethereal look and what looked like a halo above her head. 
He felt his chest cave in on itself, his heart splintering at its core. Here she was, his Y/N, about to marry someone else. And there was nothing he could do about it. 
Then the tears came, and they wouldn’t stop. So he ran out quietly, trying not to make a scene on the biggest day of his love’s life. 
So there he sat, on some random bench he found. Crying his heart out for his lost love, bidding her a fond adieu.
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kabira · 3 years
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04 | solo
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pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc
featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)
word count — 2.6k
genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor
warnings — one instance of profanity
go to fic masterlist | main masterlist
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“You’re being a bitch.”
Vernon closed his locker’s door with a click before turning around, looking at the ceiling in exasperation when he heard the accusatory voice. There was a tube light directly above him, brilliant and blinding right in his sight. He turned away as quickly as he had looked up, blinking back the dark spots in his stinging eyes.
He didn’t bother acknowledging Lucy before making his way down the hallway, bag slung over one shoulder. His muscles ached from the previous night’s encounter—he’d ended up swinging around for longer than usual, long after the three had to go back to the Helicarrier for their bedtime. Knowing May wouldn’t be waiting up for him back home had made him a little careless, and the exertion during gym hadn’t helped.
“Don’t you walk away from me, mister!” Luce called behind him. When she saw that he wasn’t stopping, she blew air out of her mouth in irritation before jogging to catch up. “Vernon! What is up with you?”
The hallway was mostly empty, which wasn’t that surprising. He’d had to stay back in the lab to clean up his new partner’s chemical spill, which had, of course, been blamed on him instead. The old Parker luck. “I need to get home, Luce.”
“Do you?” she asked, and he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. A muscle in her jaw was working, tensing and relaxing at periodic intervals, her eyes fixed on some point in the distance. She was usually relaxed, but her current gait was constrained, like a coiled-up spring. “I saw how you nailed that new kid in gym today. You usually opt out of dodgeball, but—”
“He had it coming,” Vernon said dismissively, but his lips thinned. The new guy she was referring to was Yangyang, who did have it coming, because of his little incident in the cafeteria the day before. Maybe it was a little uncalled for, but Vernon still honestly believed he had deserved it at least a little bit. “And you’re not supposed to chew gum in the school.”
“Neither are you supposed to be mean to people for no reason, but we’re all sinners.” Luce shrugged, and he bit back a few choice words. She pushed through the door as they reached the exit, and he shielded his eyes against the hot midday sun that’s shone directly at them. “For real, though. You got him good—I’ve never seen you so hostile towards anyone save for Flash. Did Yangyang say something to you?”
For some reason, her knowing his name annoyed Vernon even further. “Did you get the answers to those questions yesterday?” he asked, switching the subject.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Very funny.” The laces of her converse were untied, a band pin on the lapel of her jacket wobbly, a few strands loose from her dark ponytail. He blinked, tearing his mind away from the little details of her appearance and tried to focus on walking. Left, right, left. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah, well, I had a headache last night,” he said, grateful he didn’t have to hunt for excuses. His thoughts were already sluggish. “You can ask May.”
“I meant the one about Yangyang.” She paused, and he paused with her, taking a few steps before backtracking towards her. Her eyes were downcast, brow creased thoughtfully. Unconscious little gestures he knew like the back of his hand. Then she glanced up at him, right at him, so suddenly that when her eyes met his he swayed on his feet a little. “You don’t want to tell me, do you?”
I can’t, I’m sorry. But cryptic answers never helped. The last time he had tried withholding something from her that wasn’t his Spider-Man secret—the planned surprise party, for instance—she had persevered until he accidentally let it slip. Plus, she was sharp. A couple of new students, a few matching injuries, and she’d guess those three were superheroes right away. And where would he be then?
“It’s a guy thing,” he said instead, a little white lie he hoped would do the trick. Vernon raked a hand through his hair, pressing his lips into a smile as he squinted at her. “You’re going to embarrass me in front of all these pigeons.”
“The pigeons are half-dead because of New York’s air pollution, I’m pretty sure they have more important things to worry about than some guy’s adjustment problems,” she said, resuming her walk. He waited for her to pass him before following. “Look, I know the new kids are a sudden change after—” She bit the inside of her bottom lip. “Well. After…you know.”
All of a sudden, the atmosphere turned gloomier, as if a cloud had passed overhead. “Yeah,” Vernon said thickly, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know.”
Lucy glanced at him, and though he wasn’t looking directly at her, he could sense the regret in her eyes. “It must be difficult for them, too,” she said. “Joining a new school in the middle of a session, just a few weeks after…all that.” She shrugged, looking at him, and their eyes met. “There’s no harm in being decent.”
He looked away, feeling the lining of his stomach go hot-and-cold. Even a mention of the incident turned every sunny conversation into something dark and somber, even though it had been months already. The counselor/agent had tried making him open up about it as well, but he’d snapped at her, only to regret it right after. It was a difficult subject for him, especially since he felt at least partially responsible for what had happened—but he couldn’t tell Luce that without revealing more than he was supposed to.
“So you’re still trying to score an interview with Tony Stark?” he asked instead, trying to steer the conversation towards a different topic. “I still can’t believe the board’s letting you do that.”
“Honestly? I think the only reason they agreed to it is because then they won’t have to assign me to anything of real importance,” she said with a small laugh. “They think I can’t do it.”
“Can you?”
“I have my ways,” she said, a glint in her eye. “I’d tell you how, but it’s too dangerous to involve an innocent civilian in my plans.”
“Uh-huh.” He tried not to shake his head. Oh, the irony. “You don’t have to talk to Stark, you know. I’m sure there were other civilian witnesses to the Goblin incident.”
“Yeah, but their accounts have already been reported. I need a superhero for this job.” She blew a strand of her hair out of her eyes. “If not him, who else am I going to talk to? Spider-Man?”
He laughed awkwardly. “Maybe?”
“I think Stark might be easier than that.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s kind of the point of the mask.”
He looked at her in half-surprise, unsure what to feel. They had talked about Spider-Man before, of course, but only in passing. A masked vigilante wouldn’t really be central to their usual conversations. Still, he hadn’t expected her to say that. “Yeah,” he murmured, feeling oddly warm. “I guess it is.”
“Oh, look,” she said, stopping in her tracks again. Vernon raised his eyebrows, following her line of sight to a Daily Bugle billboard on the side of a tall building. “Jameson’s having a field day with those photos of the new guys.”
He took a long look at the screen, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Why would you show me that?” he mumbled. On the top right corner of the screen was a blurry picture of him with Tiger, Nova, and Iceman, looking like a perfectly normal team of superheroes fighting crime—except for the leftover webbing clinging to Nova’s costume. Distractedly, Vernon wondered what Jameson made of that little detail.
“As a sighting in Queens last night reported, it seems that Spider-Man has now deemed it fit to invite even more of his delinquent partners into this city!” the man on the screen yelled. If Vernon tried hard enough, maybe he could even see little spit bubbles form in Jameson’s salt-and-pepper moustache during the passionate rant. “With crime rates already increasing steadily ever since the arrival of this masked menace, who knows what kind of mayhem the new additions to his team will spell for New York?”
Always the charmer.
“…anyway,” Luce muttered. She was frowning at the screen, but seemed unable to look away. “Who do you think those guys are?”
“Those guys?” Vernon echoed, awkwardly running his thumb along the strap of his bag. What could he say that would arouse the least suspicion? “They seem new.”
Nailed it.
“Right,” she mumbled, looking distracted, like her mind was far away—never a good sign with this one. “But, as I was saying, I know the past month’s been hard for you. It’s been hard for me, too, but you shouldn’t take it out on a few unsuspecting newbies when they don’t deserve it.”
Vernon kissed his teeth, choosing to stay silent. The last thing he wanted right now was more impromptu therapy, but he knew that trying to dissuade Lucy from speaking would only encourage her. The best he could do was shut up and let her have it.
“You know what’s helped me deal with it?” she asked, and he raised his eyebrows, wanting to get it over with. “Working. Ever since I joined the school newspaper, I’ve been able to keep myself busy. Distracted. I don’t want to sound like a mom, but maybe something like that could work out for you—like an after-school job or something.”
Oh, you have no idea. But he only shrugged, keeping his eyes on the billboard. He had been able to keep busy as Spider-Man, a well-needed distraction from the pain, but now with those three around, it wasn’t the good kind.
“Maybe,” he murmured, watching on as Jameson gesticulated violently onscreen. “We’ll see.”
|
Vernon swung the drone trapped at the end of his web in a full circle before letting go, letting it fly through the training room into a collapsed structure of another laser. The drone exploded, sparking as it crashed, crushing the circuit of the lasers in the structure beneath it.
Dusting off his hands, he turned, facing the rest of his ‘team’-mates, who stood to one side, having been watching him as he single-handedly took on the subjects of their training session. He had been going at it for about half an hour now, and it had been strangely satisfying to get to throw stuff around for the heck of it.
Nova stood leaning against the wall next to the control panel, his arms folded over his chest. “You done yet?” he asked in a bored voice.
The drone Vernon had just disabled sparked again, shooting an angry red beam across the room. Vernon clicked his modified web shooters into condensed impact mode and webbed the drone again without looking. The drone crackled once, then its light went dark.
“I am now,” he said, dropping his arm. Felix watched him with bleary eyes as he turned and headed towards the exit, which slid open with a pneumatic hiss. “And since I managed to complete the mission objective solo, I think I’m going to head home.”
“Except you didn’t.” White Tiger landed in his path, executing a perfect handspring that arched high over his head. Her reflexes were as good as his—maybe even better, but he would probably never tell her that.
She crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg. Despite the mask covering her features, he could sense how peeved she was through the sheer annoyance radiated by her posture. “The objective was to disable the bots without alerting the security system. You trashed the drones and crashed the system, and the power failure would have initiated a manual site-wide search. If this had been a real mission, we would have been discovered by now.”
“Except this isn’t a real mission,” he said, equally annoyed. “If it had been, I’m pretty sure I would have been able to do the job easily. Six armed drones against one spider? No competition.”
“And this was supposed to be a team effort,” she snapped. “If this had just been a solo training session, I would have had no problem with you doing what you just did. But in case you forgot, the whole point of this is to prepare us for team combat in real situations, to help us learn to work better, together. Your taking on everything alone wasn’t heroic, it was an obstruction of the purpose of this entire thing.”
She took a step back, suddenly, as if reeling from a blow, though he hadn’t even moved. The training room had gone silent—granted, it hadn’t been very noisy in the first, place, but her voice had been so loud and her words so rapid that Vernon had forgotten the silence. Now it pressed down on him, like another layer to his suit.
She dropped her arms to her sides, fingers curling in and out slightly, her claws retracting under the white gloves. “I know it’s difficult for you having to work with someone against your will,” she said, “and I know you don’t like us very much. But that’s not a good enough reason for you to throw away everything we’ve been training for. If you’re not going to be nice, at least try to be civil.”
She turned on his heel and stalked out the door. Vernon watched her go, right up until the doors slid back in place behind her.
He turned around, only to find the other two staring back at him. “Way to go,” Felix mumbled.
“You totally got schooled right there,” Yangyang said, though he didn’t sound very amused. “You know she takes this training stuff more seriously than any of us.” He shrugged; arms still folded. “Gotta be more sensitive than that.”
“Stop it,” Felix snapped at him, looking annoyed. “She only cares about this so much because it’s the only thing she’s got. You’ve got the Guardians, and I have—had—the X-Men, and probably a bunch of other mutant organizations, like the Frost Academy or something,” he added the last bit in an undertone, “but S.H.I.E.L.D.—after she lost her family, this is the only place she can turn to. That’s her one chance at making it, but this doofus is refusing to cooperate. If it were me, I’d be pretty pissed.”
Vernon narrowed his eyes at him, but couldn’t find the strength to argue. Too much about what Felix had said hit right where it hurt. Losing someone you cared about, suddenly having nobody to turn to…he understood how bad that was. But losing your entire family and being displaced from your home? He couldn’t even imagine it.
The earlier annoyance had drained from his body like an ebbing tide, leaving nothing but a hollowness and that damned guilt that seemed to follow him everywhere like an annoying ghost. Oh, well, my fault for having a conscience.
Suddenly tired, he sighed, tearing his eyes from the mutant’s and looking resignedly at a spot on the wall. As much as he would like to have a reason to properly hate his new team, he knew he couldn’t really blame them for any of this. “Where do you think she’ll go?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t—” Yangyang started.
“Up top,” Felix answered, cutting him off. His irises were rings of ice, but when Vernon looked at him then, they seemed almost warm. “Take the elevator to the left. Make sure you don’t fall off the side—New York’s a long way down.”
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marvelsdc22 · 4 years
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In Your Arms
Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night!! This was requested by an anon, I hope you guys enjoy!! :)
Note: Y/N is an avenger and survived the snap, her girlfriend Maria, not as lucky, when Thanos is defeated and Maria is safe, Y/N is there to help comfort Maria as much as she needs it.
Word Count: 713
Hiiii love ur work. Had a little request idea. Maria Hill x avenger female reader where the reader comforts Maria after she returned from the snap after endgame
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Thanos was dead, he was finally dead and would never return… Of course that came with a price, watching Tony die after using the stones was one of the hardest things you could’ve ever witnessed, he had become a father figure to you after they had picked you up along with Wanda and you never had the chance to thank him for it all, but you tried not to let it consume you, especially when you came back to the apartment that you shared with Maria, unsure if she had returned as well.
Setting your things down on the floor, you looked around the empty looking apartment, you had not been back to this place in five years, it had felt too empty and off for you to come back to, so you stayed with Natasha at the compound, that bringing another punch to your gut… She was gone too and it was your fault, pushing that thought back when you heard the banging of pots and pans come from the kitchen, putting your defenses back up, you grabbed the knife from your sheathe and slowly made your way into the kitchen.
Walking into the kitchen, you froze when you saw a woman with wavy brown hair standing at the stove “Maria?” You asked softly, not believing your eyes as she turned to look at you with a small smile “There a reason you’re holding that knife?” She asked teasingly, looking at you and watching as the knife clattered to the floor before you rushed towards her, pulling her into a tight hug and fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall when you heard her break and let out a sob “You’re safe” you promised, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as you just held her, letting her let everything out.
After a while, you guys were now finishing up eating dinner and watching a movie, although neither of you were paying attention since you were mostly basking in each other’s presence “What all did I miss?” Maria finally asked, setting her plate on the coffee table before looking at you and you sighed, setting your plate down as well “Five years” you said honestly, not sure what else to tell her since mostly what you and Natasha did was try to get everyone back “You know Tony’s gone… Nat’s dead too” you said softly, looking down at your hands and feeling her touch your face gently, forcing you to look at her “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you” she apologized, tearing up once more as you shook your head and tugged her closer to you “No, none of that… It’s not your fault” you assured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and giving her a squeeze.
“What was it like?” You asked after a moment of silence, looking at her when she pulled back and gave you a look of confusion “The snap, was it like death or were you somewhere?” You asked, not going to push her but you were curious, watching as she thought for a moment before shrugging “I don’t know, it was more like I fell asleep then woke up five years later, but it felt like no time had passed” she said, looking at you and you nodded for a moment before you grinned “That means I’m older than you now!” You said, that earning a small laugh as she shoved your shoulder gently “Of course that’s the important part” she teased, rolling her eyes before checking the time “We should get some sleep, it’s late” she said before standing up, the two of you working together to clean the mess up.
It was just passed 2am when you woke up to sniffling, rolling over, you saw Maria curled in on herself and shaking, you gently reaching out and pulling her towards you, pressing a kiss to the back of her head “I love you” you murmured, hearing and feeling her relax in your hold before she rolled over and looked at you “I love you too” she said, pressing a kiss to your lips before burying her face in your chest, knowing she was safe and nothing would happen as long as she was in your arms.
Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates​ / @natasha-danvers​ / @youngandwildx7​ / @stewie-castle​ / @hopingforbarnes​
End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! If you’d like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me an Ask, it will be answered when I return!! Have a good day/night!! :)
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kitkatfat15 · 3 years
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(WIP) Avengers Among Us Fanfic
My Avengers Among Us fanfic so far. It is still a work in progress and I would appreciate feed back on it. That being said, please do not copy my work in any way. If you are inspired by it and want to make something similar, totally fine. Just... Don’t steal my story. Also, IronStrange is my endgame for this.
Red- Tony Stark...
Blue- Stephen Strange, Peter Parker...
Orange- Natasha...
White-Steve Rogers...
Grey- Bucky Barnes...
Black- Aldrich Killian
Tan-Obadiah Stane...
Cyan- Wanda Maximoff...
Yellow- Clint Barton…
Green- Bruce Banner...X
Pink- Maria hill
Purple- Maya Hansen...X
Brown-Fury
Lime- Betty Ross…
——
Room 1- Orange, Yellow, Green
Room 2- lime, cyan, purple
Room 3- White, Grey, Tan
Room 4- Blue, Blue, Red
Room 5-Black, Pink, Brown
———
Tony leaned against the wall and stared at his new crew mates. He looked around and caught Killian’s eyes. He scowled. He hates that guy. Maybe this time he can push his murders on him and convince the crew to vote him out. 
Obie looked at him and nodded. Tony shuddered. He couldn’t stand that guy either. They had gone on a mission a while ago and Obadiah tried to blame everything on him. Luckily he had an alibi, but still. 
A kid in a blue suit came bounding over towards him. “It’s amazing, isn’t it.” He said. Tony nodded in  agreement. “It is, kid. It is.” Tony hummed. “So, what’s a kid like you doing on a ship like this?”
The kid smiled. “Me and my dad are heading towards Alpha Six. He has some friends over there. We’re going to be staying with them for a few weeks. Oh! I never introduced myself! I’m Peter Parker.” Peter held out a hand and Tony accepted it. ‘Poor kid.’ He thinks, ‘Probably never going to make it there.’ Tony winces.
“I’m Tony.” Tony can tell the kid is smiling behind his visor. “Well it’s been nice to meet you Mr. Tony, but I have to get back to my dad.” The kid waves goodbye and walks back over to the person in the other blue suit.
The guy in the white suit calls everyone around. “Hello everybody, my name is Steve and I am the captain of this ship. We should be reaching our first destination, Alpha four, in around 10 days. I assume you're all tired, so I’ll show you to your quarters. There's three a room.” The captain leads the crew, and the three imposters, to a door. When he opened it there was a small common room with a few doors on the wall. Next to each door there was a holographic screen with names.
“The room with your name on it is yours.” The crew went around looking for their rooms. Tony spotted his and hummed. Looks like he’s staying with the two blues, Peter and his dad, Stephen Strange. In the room there was a storage area for bags, three small beds, and a vent on the floor. ‘Perfect.’ Tony thought. ‘Time to get settled in.’
——————
Peter was so excited. He had been on the ship for a day now and everything was so cool! He only has a few daily tasks, since he was so young. But that was okay. He was just glad to help. Peter hummed a little tune as he walked into admin and pulled out his swipe card. He quickly swiped the card and left the room, heading towards O2 so he could clear out the O2 filter. He passed Mr. Tony on his way down, and waved hello. 
Peter got in the room and pushed the leaves out of the vent. He wondered how the leaves got in there in the first place. He shrugged and looked at his watch. It was time to meet his dad. He passed a few people on his way there. They all seemed friendly enough though. He entered the cafeteria and found his father downloading documents. “Hey dad!”
“Hey Pete.” His dad mummers. Peter was confused. His dad has been acting really odd lately. Ever since he had done the download yesterday. Peter shrugged. It was probably nothing to worry about. Suddenly both of their comms beeped and flashed red. It said to meet everyone at the cafeteria table with the red button. His dad sighed and cancelled to download. They both walked over and sat at the table. 
———-
When Tony got the message he knew one of them had been busy. He quickly stood up from where he had been sitting in storage and walked towards the cafeteria. When he got there only Cyan, Yellow, Green, and Purple were missing. He pulled out the open seat next to Peter and sat down. Pretty soon Cyan, Yellow, and Green showed up. 
The captain, white, put his helmet in his hands. “Maya Hansen was found dead in Communications. We are unsure of who did it, but one thing we know now is that there is at least one imposter on this ship.” Tony felt Peter tense up next to him. Peter raised his hand. “Yes Peter?” White asked. “What is an imposter and what do you mean by at least one?” Tony heard his voice crack a bit and could see tears in the kids eyes. Probably the first murder he’s ever been in contact with. For some reason that made Tony’s stomach clench at the thought. 
White sighed. “An imposter is an alien who looks human, but isn’t. They have tentacles, are super strong, and can see in the dark. Those are the only confirmed signs of an imposter. The reason I said at least one, is they like to travel in pairs or groups.” Steve ranked his eyes along everyone at the table. “S-so Ms. Maya’s murderer is sitting here with us at the table right now?” White nodded grimly. Tony felt Peter start to tremble besides him. 
“Now, where was everyone right now?” They went around in a circle telling everyone where they were and what they were doing until it got to Tony. “I was getting gasoline for the reactor.” Peter nodded. “It’s true, I saw him on my way to O2 to clean out the filter. Before that I went to admin to swipe my card. And after cleaning the filter I went to find my dad and help with downloads.” Tony was surprised. Why was this kid covering for him? He should be scared out of his wits.
Tony watched him out of the corner of his eye and noticed the kid was shaking. ‘I think he might be scared out of his wits after all.’ He thought to himself. White nodded at Peter, accepting his answer. After the rest had told where they were white decided they should vote for who they think did it. Everyone skipped, there was no solid proof. Well, except for the traces of blood on Killian's suit, but they couldn’t see or smell that.
After everyone voted, the meeting ended and Tony walked up to bigger blue, Stephen. “Hey, your name’s Stephen, right?” He asked. Stephen nodded warily. “Do you mind if I stay with you guys? I don’t feel safe traveling around on my own.” Stephen looked at Peter who was giving him a thumbs up. “Fine. You can stay with us.” Tony smiled beneath his visor. “Let’s get to work.” 
————-
Tony smiled as Peter rambled on about the wires he was working on. He had been with Peter and Stephen for around 2 days now, and they had reached an agreement. When Stephen wasn’t with them, Tony watched and protected Peter. It was a good thing too because Tony had seen Killian slinking around, trying to find another victim. 
“Hey Tony?” Peter caught his attention. “Yeah kid?” Peter fiddled with the wires, thinking about what to say. “Do… Do you think whoever killed Ms. Maya is going to kill someone else? Do you think we’re safe?” Tony felt a weight settle at the bottom of his stomach. He was one of the imposters. He had killed people before. People like Peter and Stephen. Tony shook those thoughts off. “Kid, I honestly don’t know. But one thing I do know is that we’re safe if we stay together.” It was true. Tony has grown fond of Peter and his father. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt them. Peter smiled weakly from behind his visor. “I’m sure you’re right Tony.” He went back to working on the wires.
Tony took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. He had to kill someone soon. If he didn’t the others might be suspicious. He caught a glimpse of Cyan passing the door. He noticed no one was with her. He would get her tonight, while everyone was sleeping and no one, not Peter or Stephen would be any the wiser.
——-
After everyone had gone to bed and all was still, Tony quietly got out of bed and creaked open the vent, slipping inside nimbly. It was a bigger vent and therefore easy to crawl through. He took a left and was now under a vent cover. He slowly pushed the cover and pulled himself up. Cyan and lime were sleeping soundly. Hansen was their other roommate, but she was dead. 
Tony slipped the knife out of his suit and stood above cyan, posed to strike. As he was about to slash down and end the girl, he thought of Peters trusting eyes and Stephens happy smile as he made a joke. He lowered the knife. He would do it tomorrow he decided. He slipped back into the vent, back to his own room. Both Peter and Stephen were still asleep. He slowly closed the vent and slipped under his covers.
————-
Peter was slightly suspicious, but mostly he was just scared. Last night he woke up when he heard a bang. When he looked over, his dad was still asleep, but Tony was gone. He didn’t think anything of it. He probably had to use the bathroom, no big deal. As he was almost asleep, he heard another bang and saw someone exit the vent and crawl into the bed next to his dad’s. Peter had fallen back asleep before anything else had happened. But now he was scared. Was Tony one of the imposters? He… He couldn’t be. Tony would never hurt Peter. Then why did Peter see him exit the vents? Peter knew he should call an emergency meeting and tell everybody what he had seen, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Peter was broken out of his thoughts by a loud rumble. He realised it was his stomach. He blushed and Tony chuckled. “Hey kid, do you wanna go find your dad and get some lunch?” Peter nodded, still bright red. He shut the wire panel and followed Tony to communications, where his dad was. When they got just around the corner they saw Tan outside of the door, about to go in. Tony cleared his throat and the man spun around, shoving something metallic in his suit pocket. 
———-
When Tony had seen him there his heart had almost leapt out of his chest. He cleared his throat and Obadiah spun around, shoving a knife in his pocket. Tony gave him a teeth filled grin. “Hey, Obie! What are you doing here?” He said with false cheer. He heard Stephen get up and walk out of the room. He looked at Obadiah in confusion. “Hey Stephen, we were just looking for you! Peter was getting hungry.” Stephen glanced at Obie out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s get going.” He said. As they were walking away, Tony felt Obie’s sharp glare on his back. He put his arm around Peter, shielding him from Obadiah's glare.
After they ate lunch they stayed together for their tasks. Tony Insisted on it. He didn’t want either of the other imposters to get any ideas. That night when both Peter and Stephen were asleep, Tony heard someone clanking in the vents. Tony reaches over to a pile of his stuff and pulled out a gun. He put his finger on the trigger and held down enough for it to emit a slight whirring sound. The person in the vents went the other way. Tony didn’t sleep that night and the next morning Green was found dead in his room by his roommates Yellow and Orange.
———
Peter sat close to his Father and Tony during the meeting. Mr Bruce had died last night. Anyone could have done it. Peter knew for a fact that Tony hadn’t slept last night due to the dark circles under his eyes. Peter had also spotted a gun almost fully hidden under some clothes in their room. But that was crazy. Tony couldn’t have killed Mr. Bruce. Peter knew that he had been found with his neck snapped, not with a gun wound. ‘Importers are strong. Tony still could have done it.’ A traitorous voice whispers to him. The sound of Ms. Betty’s sobs break him out of his thoughts. Peter knew Mr. Bruce and Ms. Betty were dating. He felt bad for her.
Ms. Wanda was comforting Ms. Betty. Everybody but Ms. Wanda and Ms. Betty skipped voting. Peter didn’t know who they voted for, but it wasn’t enough to get anyone thrown out of the ship. It took everyone longer to do their tasks because no one wanted to be alone. Peter caught Tony watching Mr. Killian and Mr Stane. Peter didn’t trust those two anymore, not since he had seen an almost invisible stain on Mr. Killian’s suit and the knife Mr. Obadiah had tried to hide from him and Tony. If they hadn’t gotten there, who knows what would have happened to his dad. 
———-
Later that day, when Tony had left Peter and Stephen to use the bathroom, he was cornered. He heard the door slam shut and someone grabbed him from behind with black tentacles. Killian. Tony grabbed his knife and slashed downwards, spilling black blood. The tentacles released him and he was forced to dodge as a power blast went right by him. He grabbed his gun and shot at Killian. He knew he got a good shot in due to the inhuman shriek that he released. Killian went down the vent and Tony was left shaking. Oh god. Killian had almost killed him. He holstered his gun and picked back up the black stained knife. He wasn’t safe anymore. He had to get rid of Killian. He made a dash towards the cafeteria and hit the emergency meeting button. 
When everyone arrived he got straight to the point. “I was going to the bathroom when I saw Killian vent.” Silence. “When he saw me he attacked and I was forced to fight back. I grabbed his gun and shot him before he retreated.” They looked at the black blood on his suit and the badly hidden hole on Killian’s suit. “I believe him.” Peter said. “The day after Ms. Maya was killed, I saw something on Killian’s suit. I think it was blood, but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want people to think I was suspicious.” There were Nods in agreement, while Killian sat there simmering in rage. After everyone had voted, white took out his dart gun and shot Killian. There was a horrible shriek and Killian released his tentacles, trying to kill one of them. Tony shoved Peter and Stephen behind him, trying to shield them, when Killian went down for the count, unconscious. White holstered his gun. “military grade sleep darts.” He said. 
Tony looked around. Peter was shaking in fright and being comforted by his dad, some of Pink’s suit had been torn away, and Yellow’s visor had been cracked. Tony watched as White and Grey dragged Killian to the airlock before turning back to Peter. “Are you okay?” The kid asked him. Tony gave a small smile. “Yeah I’m fine kid. Why don’t you go see if you can help yellow with his visor.” Peter shakily nodded and went to help yellow. Tony caught Stephen side eyeing him, before turning around to go help Peter. 
——- 
Peter pursed his lips as he put glue in the cracks of the visor. Peter was glad Tony was able to fight the imposter and report him, but that didn’t answer how. According to what Peter had heard, imposters were extremely fast and strong. So how did Tony manage to hurt then escape Killian? Peter was starting to think his guess that Tony was an importer was correct. He sighed and kept putting on glue. What would he do if Tony was an imposter? Could he bring himself to report the older man? Peter was brought out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. It was Grey, Mr. Bucky. 
“Are you okay kid? I know it can be a lot to deal with, especially for a young teen like you.” Peter sighed and nodded. “I feel overwhelmed. I mean, what was supposed to be a peaceful journey has turned into a horror show. And to think that there are more imposters like him on the ship…” Peter shuddered at the thought. Mr. Bucky squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sure everything will turn out alright kid, just, try to stay safe.” Peter nodded and Mr. Bucky left. 
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whumphoarder · 4 years
Text
Emergency Contact
Summary: It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.
Or, in which fifteen-year-old college freshman Tony Stark needs a ride to the ER and James Rhodes is too responsible for his own good.
Word count: 4,050
Genre: sickfic, hurt/comfort, angst, whump
A/N: Thank you so much to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading, ideas, and encouragement!
Link to read on Ao3
It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot.
To be fair, the skinny five-foot-four prepubescent kid who’d walked into James’ dorm on move-in day didn’t look much like a college student, nor was he lugging in cardboard boxes and duffle bags filled with crap like the rest of the freshmen in the hall. There was no air of excitement and trepidation to him—no telltale buzz of new experiences. Not to mention, James had spent the majority of his summer away at Air Force ROTC camp, cut off from most forms of media and therefore oblivious to the rumors that Howard Stark’s infamous fifteen-year-old child prodigy was set to start his engineering course at MIT the very same semester that he was. It was hardly his fault for not recognizing the kid.
Even so, he probably shouldn’t have addressed Tony as ‘champ’ and asked if he was there to drop off an older sibling. That was on him.
What was not on James, however, was the fit Stark pitched at the resident assistant’s office upon realizing that his father had evidently not set him up with a single room after all.
“So move me then,” the little twerp demanded. “Just put it on the old man’s bill—he’s got the money. I didn’t just live through the last seven years of boarding school dormitories only to have to keep sharing the fucking bathroom in college.” He glanced over his shoulder at James, before adding, offhandedly, “No offense—I’m sure you’re swell.”
James huffed out a short, ironic laugh. He was standing in the back corner of the office with his back leaning against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, quietly taking in the scene unfolding in front of him. “None taken.”
(At this point, he wouldn’t have minded a switch either.)
The mousy redhead at the desk looked frazzled. “Look, I’m very sorry, Mr. Stark,” she tried to explain, “but there’s nothing I can do. All our single dorms are fully booked.”
Even when the kid shoved a wad of cash at her tall enough to make James’ eyebrows rise, the RA held her ground.
“It’s a first come, first serve policy,” she explained, her voice faltering, but words firm. “At least until something opens up. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it has to be.”
So there they were, a nineteen-year-old Air Force cadet from a working class family in Philly who had gotten into ‘fancy school’ on an ROTC scholarship, a 3.87 GPA, and a prayer, and a spoiled rich brat with a pile of daddy issues taller than the Bunker Hill Monument. The two were going to be stuck together for at least the next few weeks and neither of them was particularly thrilled about it.
X
Despite James’ initial concerns, rooming with Stark wasn’t actually that bad.
James had an additional scholarship that was dependent on his academic performance, so he joined several study groups to keep his grades up. Between ROTC, student government, and mock UN, along with his never-ending mountain of engineering coursework, he was rarely home.
Meanwhile, Tony might look like a twelve-year-old, but that certainly didn’t get in the way of his budding popularity on campus. The kid was swimming in invites to different parties and events (though whether that was due to his own sharp wit and natural charisma, or simply his undeniable social status as the son of Howard Stark, James couldn’t tell). Either way, between James’ busy schedule and Tony’s avid social calendar, the two could go days without seeing each other, which suited them both just fine.
With all the partying, James figured his roommate’s grades must be suffering, but a curious glance at the quarterly report letter lying on Tony’s desk last week proved otherwise. The kid had straight A’s in all seven of his classes—two more than James himself was taking.
(Alright, maybe he disliked Tony a little bit.)
X
James knew it wasn’t going to be a good day from the moment he woke up to see sunlight streaming in through the blinds. That just wasn’t supposed to happen at 5:45 a.m. in November.
“Shit,” he muttered, scrambling out of his twin-size bunk. The display on his alarm clock was silently blinking the very incorrect time of ‘12:00’. The previous night’s storm must have knocked out the power. He grabbed his watch from atop his desk to check the actual time and immediately breathed out a sigh of relief. 7:22. No morning run today, but he should still be able to make it to his eight a.m. class if he hurried.
Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he snagged some clean clothes from his dresser and made a beeline to the adjoining bathroom. He pushed open the door and slapped on the light switch, but the second the room illuminated to reveal the scrawny figure sitting slumped on the floor between the toilet and the wall, James froze.
“Tony?” he asked in confusion. He hadn’t even heard the kid come home last night.
Without opening his eyes, Tony hummed a bit in response. Then all at once, he lurched forward and gagged, coughing up what looked to be mostly bile into the toilet bowl.
James grimaced. It was definitely not the first time he’d seen his roommate severely hungover, but it was the first time he’d seen it happen on a Tuesday . At the rate this kid was partying, he’d be lucky if he had any liver function left by the time he graduated.
With a sigh, James set his stack of clean clothes down on the sink counter. “Look man, I’m sorry, but I really gotta shower. I know you’re not feeling too great, but do you think you can give me, like, five minutes in here?”
Tony blinked up at him, seeming to process the question. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay…”
Doing his best to ignore the acidic smell of vomit, James stepped carefully around Tony into the small room. He flushed the toilet and grabbed the metal trash can from beside the sink while Tony pulled himself shakily to his feet.
“Thanks dude. I promise I’ll be fast.” He passed the can off to Tony and watched him stumble back out of the room before shutting the door.
If the military had taught James nothing else, it was efficiency. He emerged ten minutes later—showered, dressed, and clean shaven—to find Tony sitting listlessly on the edge of his bed. The boy looked more dead than alive, with one arm wrapped around his stomach and sweat soaking through his thin gray t-shirt. Just the sight of him was practically an underage drinking PSA in itself.
“Bathroom’s all yours,” James announced as he grabbed his backpack from the floor.
Tony acknowledged him with a small grunt, but didn’t make any effort to move. His mouth was slightly open and he was breathing through it carefully, warily eyeing the trash can on the floor in front of him. For once, James was glad he had an eight a.m. class to get to; he figured in about five minutes, he wouldn’t want to be here anyway.
In a spur of the moment gesture of kindness, James grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the case under his desk and tossed it onto Tony’s bed. “Feel better, dude,” he said on his way out the door.
X
Tuesday was always a busy day for James. He had back-to-back classes all morning, followed by a student council meeting in the afternoon and a mandatory ROTC training session. It was nearly seven o’clock by the time he made it back to the dorm, and by that time he’d honestly forgotten about that morning’s excitement until he opened the door to their room.
As miserable as Tony had appeared that morning, he looked decidedly worse now. He was lying curled up on the edge of his bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets, cheeks flushed and body shivering. The whole room carried the vague scent of vomit, though the trash can by the bed was currently empty.
“So… I take it this isn’t a hangover?” James deduced, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He plopped the paper sack of Taco Bell that was going to make up his dinner onto his desk, causing Tony’s face to scrunch up in displeasure. “Stomach flu?” he guessed.
Tony made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat.
“Think you got a fever?”
Another low noise issued from Tony, somewhere between a grunt and a moan, which James took to mean something along the lines of ‘don’t know, and don’t care.’
James hesitated a moment, unsure what to do. If his mother were here, she’d tisk her tongue and press her hand to the kid’s forehead to gauge his temperature, but somehow he didn’t see that going over too well with Tony.
Instead, James checked his watch and sighed. “I can give you a ride to the student health center if you want,” he offered. “They don’t close until eight.”
“Don’ have to... ‘s just a bug,” Tony mumbled into the pillow, the most consecutive words James had heard from him all day. “I’ll be fine.”
The thing was, if Tony were one of his ROTC buddies, James would have dropped it right there. He’d never been particularly good at caretaking, and besides, he had a test coming up in his thermal-fluids class tomorrow morning that he should really be studying for. But something about the utter vulnerability Tony was displaying at the moment gave James pause. True, the kid might be a stuck-up asshole, but he was also just that— a kid. Only a few years older than James’ own kid-brother.
James looked at Tony appraisingly. “Can you handle a shower?”
“Huh?” Tony breathed.
“A shower,” James repeated. “Remember those? Water, soap, maybe even some shampoo if you’re feeling adventurous,” he said wryly. “That is, if you can do it without passing out.”
Tony fixed him with a rather pathetic glare. “Not gonna pass out.”
“You better not,” James quipped, crossing his arms and watching as Tony pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve seen more than enough white boys’ pasty asses this summer to last a lifetime. I have no desire to add another.”
(Tony lifted his middle finger weakly in his roommate’s direction.)
X
Over the sound of the shower running in the background, James ate his tacos and started flipping through his class notes in preparation for the test the next morning, but he was finding it unusually hard to focus. He kept listening for any sounds of distress from the bathroom, and after fifteen minutes had elapsed, he got up from his desk and crossed the room.
“Hey, I was serious about the ‘no passing out’ rule, Stark,” he hollered, rapping his knuckles against the door. “If you biff it in there, you’re on your own.”
As if on cue, a loud crashing sound immediately issued from inside the shower.
James’ eyes widened. He jiggled the door handle only to find it locked. “Tony?” he called. “Did you just fall?”
There was no response.
James cursed. He grabbed a paper clip from his desk and quickly jimmied the flimsy lock open—a skill he’d learned from his cousins years ago—before pushing open the door. “Tony?” he called again.
Suddenly, a hand emerged and pulled the edge of the shower curtain back just enough for Tony to stick his head out the side. His face was totally straight, but there was a hint of mirth in his eyes. “Whoops, must’ve dropped the shampoo bottle,” he deadpanned. “Thank god I’m rooming with the US Coast Guard.”
“Air Force,” James corrected irritably.
Tony pulled the curtain back closed. “Whatever.”
James rolled his eyes. “Next time I’m letting you drown, Stark...” he grumbled as he stepped back out of the room.
X
By the time Tony finally emerged from the bathroom an additional twenty minutes later (the latter ten of which he’d spent retching loud enough into the toilet that James had broken out his walkman and headphones), all traces of his earlier humor had dissolved. He moved shakily back to his bed and managed a couple sips of water before curling up on his side, the trash can within easy reach.
James tried to turn his attention back to his textbook, but Tony’s labored breathing as he drifted in and out of consciousness was making it difficult to focus. James kept stealing worried side glances back at the bed, wondering whether there was something else he should be doing.
At around nine-thirty, Tony jerked up suddenly and stumbled back to the bathroom to start dry-retching into the toilet again, and that was when James gave up trying to study for the night. He got up from his desk and pushed open the hastily half-closed door to the bathroom to wet a washcloth at the sink. When the mostly unproductive spasms ceased, he handed the cloth to Tony.
“Have you eaten anything today?” James asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer already.
Tony just grimaced and shook his head.
“Want some crackers or something?” he offered. “I can go raid the cafeteria soup station.” James might not have had as packed of a social calendar as Tony, but it wasn’t like he never partied. He still knew the college hangover tricks.
Tony shook his head again, eyes closed. He seemed to lack the energy for words.
“Gatorade at least then?” James tried again. “All I’ve seen you drink today is one water bottle—you’ve gotta be getting dehydrated by now.”
Another head shake. “I’ll jus’ puke it up again…” Tony muttered. “Prob’ly a kidney too at this rate.”
“Well it’s better than puking up nothing,” James reasoned. Technically, he didn’t know if that was true or not, but he was tired of watching the kid be miserable. He moved back to the room to grab his keys and jacket. “What flavor do you want?” he called.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tony croaked back from the bathroom. “They’re all terrible.”
“That’s the most ignorant thing I’ve ever heard you say,” James retorted. “Just for that you’re getting purple.”
And with that, he exited the dorm and shut the door behind him with a bang.
X
It turned out that the vending machine in the lobby outside the dining hall only sold three Gatorade flavors—blue, orange, and red. James bought a bottle of each, then slipped into the deserted cafeteria to snag a handful of individually-wrapped saltine packets from the clam chowder counter before heading back to the dorm. It took some cajoling, but he managed to get two full crackers and half a bottle of the sports drink into Tony before it came right back up.
“Told you,” Tony rasped, spitting neon blue strings of bile into the toilet bowl. “Lost cause.”
“We’ll try red next,” James said, cracking open a fresh bottle. “One of them’s bound to stick.”
But red didn’t stay down any better, and neither did orange. James mooched a can of ginger ale and a quarter of a bottle of Pepto Bismol off a fellow cadet down the hall, but those fared no better. Even the cup of tap water James kept bullying him into taking sips from proved too much.
By midnight, Tony was still sitting slumped against the toilet on the bathroom floor, barely conscious, and James was at a total loss. “I think we have to go to the ER,” he admitted finally.
Without opening his eyes, Tony made a low noise of discontent in the back of his throat. His eyes were sunken in and he was alarmingly pale.
James let out a deep sigh. “Look, I’m sorry man, but we’re running out of options here. If you can’t even keep water down, you’re gonna need an IV.”
“No…” Tony lifted a shaky hand to try to take the cup of water James was holding. “I’ll-I’ll try again… just—” His words were cut off by a weak gag.
James cursed under his breath and quickly steered Tony’s head back over the bowl. It turned out not to matter though because for the next several minutes of miserable retching, nothing came up. When it was finally over, Tony slumped back against the wall. His eyes were red and puffy, and James figured it was only dehydration that was keeping the tears from falling.
“Alright, that’s it,” James declared. He wrapped an arm around Tony to lever him upright, feeling the feverish heat coming off the kid in waves. “I’m not letting you die on our bathroom floor—we won’t get the deposit back.”
Tony breathed out the ghost of a laugh. “Jus’ tell Howard to write you a check at the funeral...” he murmured. “‘bout all he’s good for,” he added under his breath.
James’ brow furrowed but he chose not to comment. He hoisted Tony to his feet and bore most of the kid’s weight as he led him back to the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the mattress. “I’m gonna get you a clean shirt, okay?”
Tony nodded, gazing blankly forward with half-lidded eyes. James ended up having to help the kid pull his sweat-soaked t-shirt off and guide his uncooperative arms into a fresh one, followed by his coat. When they got to the shoes, James didn’t even bother having Tony try himself. He just stuffed the kid’s feet into a pair of sneakers for him.
“I taught my little sister how to do this last summer,” James explained as he tied Tony’s laces, if only for something to fill the awkward silence. “She’s in first grade.”
Tony hummed lightly. “I never went.”
James frowned, pulling the knot tight. “What do you mean?”
“Firs’ grade,” Tony clarified. “Or second. They started me in third.”
James smirked, imagining tiny five-year-old Tony filling out his multiplication tables in a classroom full of kids a full head taller than him. But his face quickly fell again as he suddenly realized a potential flaw in their plan. Tony may be in college, but he was still technically a minor. James wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to bring him off campus. “Shit, we’re gonna need to call your parents...” he said.
Tony’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Why?”
James raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m about to haul their fifteen-year-old son’s ass off to the hospital? Have you been following this conversation at all?”
“Oh. Jus’ leave a note for the RA.” Tony shrugged, listless. “They won’t care.”
James gave him a strange look. “Of course they’ll care—they’re your parents.”
Tony’s eyes were glassy with fever. “They won’t,” he croaked. “Been in boarding school since I was seven.” A shiver ran through his body and he swallowed hard before continuing. “Got pneumonia one winter and was in the hospital eight days. Dad jus’ paid the school to handle everything—didn’ even visit.” A tear finally slipped down the side of his cheek. “I was twelve.”
James knew it was just the fever making Tony so forthcoming at the moment, but it didn’t make his words any easier to take. As much as James always complained about his own mother’s doting whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he couldn’t imagine being sick enough to be in the hospital and not having anyone there for him. He didn’t know what to say.
Thankfully, Tony broke the awkward silence. “Sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes and pressing his palm against them. “‘M fine.”
With a quiet sigh, James put his arm around Tony to help him back to standing. “You know what? We’ll just call them when we get there,” he said before leading Tony out to the car.
X
The drive to the hospital was uneventful. Tony sat curled up in the passenger seat of James’ old beater of a Chevy Monza with an empty plastic bag in his lap, quiet except for the occasional whimper he’d let out when they’d hit a bump in the road. When they arrived, James got Tony checked in and situated in the waiting room with some forms to fill out before stepping out to the foyer to use the payphone.
James fished the scrap of paper containing the number that Tony had finally agreed to give him out of his pocket. He dialed it three times. Each time, the call was picked up by the answering machine. On the third round, he left the Starks a brief message stating which hospital Tony was at and how they could contact their son, then hung up quickly before he could add anything else he might come to regret.
He reentered the waiting area to find Tony sitting hunched forward in his chair, breathing shallowly and clutching the small kidney-shaped basin that the triage nurse had given him like his life depended on it. “What’d they say?” he murmured. James wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard just a hint of hopefulness in the kid’s voice.
Without meeting Tony’s gaze, he slid into the seat beside him. “They didn’t answer,” he said guiltily.
Tony’s tone returned to flat: “Shocking.”
“They’re probably just asleep,” James reasoned, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “I left a message, but we can try again later.”
Tony hummed absently. Then all at once, he brought the small plastic container he was holding up to his mouth and threw up whatever little liquid remained in him. His hands were trembling so hard that James had to help him steady the basin.
When the heaving stopped, one of the nurses from the front desk exchanged the used basin for a clean one. Tony grunted in thanks, then looked up wearily and locked eyes with James. “You really don’ have to stay.”
James gave a tiny scoff. “What? You think I’d just leave you here to faceplant on the linoleum?”
Tony shrugged a bit. “‘S not like we’re friends, Jim.”
James pondered this for a few seconds before returning the shrug. “I guess you’re right.” He settled back in his chair and picked up a copy of Good Housekeeping from the stack on the waiting room table, flipping it idly open on his lap. “Too bad I’m invested now.”
X
It was around three a.m. by the time Tony’s name was called. He was taken back and briefly examined before getting hooked up to an IV line for fluids and antiemetics. The doctor ordered some bloodwork to be sure, but said that all signs pointed to a virus. As soon as they could get the vomiting under control and Tony’s vitals stabilized, he should be good to go.
While Tony dozed in and out of consciousness on the ER bed, fluids dripping steadily into his arm, James just sat there, silently mulling the events of the last sixteen hours or so over in his mind. It was weird seeing Tony like this—weak, and small, and just so undeniably young.
James waited until the clock struck five before slipping quietly over to the phone located near the nurse’s station. This time, he dialed a different number—one he knew by heart.
A familiar voice answered on the third ring: “Hello?”
Instant warmth flooded James’ chest at the sound. “Hey Ma,” he said softly.
“James?” His mother’s tone changed from puzzled to concerned in two seconds flat. “It’s so early, baby. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Ma,” he assured, the corners of his lips turning up into the smallest of smiles. “Just wanted to catch you before you left for work.”
“Well, you got me,” she laughed lightly. Over the line, James could hear her bustling around the kitchen, pouring coffee into a mug. “What do you need, baby?”
James hesitated a second, his gaze shifting back in the direction of Tony’s bed. “It’s nothing, just… I wanted to ask if I could invite someone home for Thanksgiving next week.” He shifted his gaze back in the direction of Tony’s bed. “I get the feeling he could really use it...”
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Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy
AU: When a chemically enhanced teenage girl shows up, and a wave of conspiracy follows behind her, the Avengers (and Yelena) are forced to do the one thing that even a group of superheroes can't seem to hack: caring for a minor.
a/n: so incredibly un-canon! (is that a word?) set after black widow; there was no civil war
a/n #2: i honestly have no clue what i'm doing here. i've never written anything before, other than stuff for school, so i am completely unsure of whether this actually makes any sense or if it's just a bunch of babble, but somebody recommended it for me to try. so here i am. let me know what you thought?
warnings: some curse words. mentions of some violence and injuries.
- - - - - -
It was dark. That was pretty much all she was able to distinguish from the situation that she'd found herself in. Dark, and wet. And there was a faint smell of tacos. That, however, was probably due to a concussion. The big green guy had shown up out of nowhere; she hadn't managed to quite dodge away from the car door that he'd thrown right at her.
It was a simple job, they'd said. Minimal damage, they'd said. Bunch of old, filthy liars. If it was so simple then how did she manage to end up laying on the dampened field covered in blood, barely able to make out which cut it was all actually stemming from? The bullet hole in her abdomen was her best guess, maybe the large chunk of skin that was currently missing from her upper arm. It could go either way.
"Fuck." She rolled over, exposing the majority of her wounds to the world. Ouch. Films never made it look like it hurt this bad.
"Target acquired. Moving forward?"
The hell? She looked up, only to be greeted by the sight of the dude with the arrows blocking her vision.
"Copy," he said, looking down at her. He made a move to grab her arm, but she managed to dodge it. He was nothing like a car door being hurtled straight towards her and she would be damned if she'd let them get the drop on her again. Rolling over a little to the left, she was able to get her bearings and, rather impressively, ignore the screaming pain that was currently shooting through her skull telling her to just give in. She didn't, obviously. Instead, she forced herself to her feet and sloppily threw a punch at the side of his head.
He saw it coming. Unsurprising. She put the fact that he was able to counterattack so quickly down to her weakened state. She also put the fact that she didn't manage see the leg aiming for the back of her knees until it was too late also down to her weakened state. Landing with a solid thud, she grunted. Back on the ground. Fucking fabulous. Goddamn Avengers. They weren't supposed to be here.
"Are you going to come quietly," he said. "Or do I have to sedate you?"
She looked up at him. "Bite me," she spat, getting blood all over his lovely shiny boots. He looked very unamused.
"Have it your way then."
She tried to protest, both physically and verbally, eyes going wide as she witnessed him pull an almost very full syringe out from his pocket. Shit. Her body screamed at her as she tried to roll away again, blood seeping rather dramatically from the hole in her stomach. Arrow dude pulled her up by her bloody chunk-less and already very swollen arm, with almost too much ease, and she grunted at the contact.
"You're really going to regret this," she growled at him.
He looked down at her, still incredibly unamused. "I'm sure I will."
Jabbing the syringe into her neck, he put an arm around her waist to catch the remainder of her weight as she slipped from consciousness. She was tiny; it didn't require a lot of effort on his part.
Her last coherent thought, before her eyelids were forced to close, was how she should probably have tried to aim a solid kick to his testicles.
Now she was merely a floppy, dead weight in the older man's arms.
Fantastic. Goddamn Avengers.
- - - - - -
"It will be simple, I promise. You just need to get in undetected and I will handle the rest." She said, taking a sip of water.
The girl scoffed. "Yes, because your promises are worth so much. You are, truly, very reliable."
"Don't give me attitude, Maya," the older woman sneered at her. "You have your orders."
"Right, and who am I to question the potential threat to the safety of my life?"
She was so preoccupied with reading the latest book of strategies that her mother had thrown at her and told her to read until she could recite that she didn't notice the figure charging towards her until it was too late and she was being pushed against the hard back of an already uncomfortable sofa, her throat being squeezed.
The girl clawed at the woman's hands, trying to mutter words of apology, of regret, but she couldn't produce enough air to make any kind of noise. Her lungs started to burn. She clawed harder.
"What did I just say, hmm?" The woman asked, eyes aflame with anger as she glared down into the girl's now very cloudy orbs. "Don't give me attitude."
She squeezed tighter. And tighter.
"Are you going to behave if I let you go, or do we have to go downstairs?"
It was becoming more and more difficult for her to stay conscious, the black spots creeping into the side of the young girl's vision, but she nodded. Well, nodded as well as could be expected when she couldn't actually move her head.
The woman let go of the teenager's throat and stalked off to the other side of the room. Taking a sip of water from a glass that she had been nursing moments before, she glanced towards the trembling ball of a person that she had just left sputtering and wheezing on the sofa.
"I expect an update as soon as you have made it through the exterior of the building. Don't let me down, Maya."
The girl looked up at her through watered eyelids, fingers stroking faintly over her already purple neck. "Yes, Mother."
Her voice was hoarse, barely audible.
- - - - - -
"Do we know who she is?" Tony Stark asked as he wearily eyed the girl that was laying unconscious on the table.
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Stark. There is no file that I can find pertaining to her identity," the A.I replied.
The Avengers were gathered around different areas of the Medical Room. They were all still reeling, all still in various states of shock.
They had been sent by Fury to deal with a hostile threat that was currently trying to break into a highly top-secret facility. Judging by the amount of carnage that they'd found when they arrived at the scene, they were all expecting to be dealing with at least one large group of professionals. What they didn't expect to find was that at the centre of all of that destruction and mayhem, there was just a single person. A child. And she was good.
She had managed to hold off all eight of the most powerful beings on earth for, at least, a good twenty minutes. She was even able to get the jump on Steve Rogers.
Now she was lying on a table, the whole squad gathered and watching as the machine next to her beeped intermittently.
Dr. Cho walked in, a small piece of paper in her hands. She looked irritated. "This girl sustained quite a lot of injuries fighting all of you. You couldn't have gone easy on her? She took a bullet from one of you. She's just a kid."
"She didn't exactly give us the chance to," Natasha jumped in. "She started to attack us as soon as we landed; even managed to stab Steve in the shoulder. She's fast and incredibly efficient."
Wanda looked up from her seat on the floor, eyes casting over to the girl in question. "She's trained."
All eyes looked, again, to the girl on the table. The room fell silent.
She was tiny. No more than 5'3", that was being generous. She looked emaciated.
"She's trained and we have no idea who she is," Bruce spoke up. His eyes locked onto a very purple bruise that was beginning to appear on the left side of her face. A bruise that could really only be caused by somebody with a lot of power throwing something big and heavy at her. Both sadness and guilt took over his features as fragments of the green guy's memories began to slowly dawn on him. The car door. "She's just a child."
Thor had yet to say a word.
"A child that has the means to kill," Tony jumped in. "You did what you had to do, Big Guy."
The girl stirred. "What the fuck?"
Everybody snapped to attention. Wanda jumped up from her perch on the floor, standing at the foot of the table. Her powers ready to fly if needed.
Clint readied an arrow, Natasha pulled a gun.
Thor pointed his hammer directly at her chest.
The girl looked up, trying to touch her fingers to her face but finding that she couldn't. She looked down. Her wrists were handcuffed to either side of a table that she was currently stuck to. Great. She looked around the room, eyes falling onto each Avenger.
Natasha noted her taking in the room, no doubt calculating an escape plan. She was definitely trained.
"Who are you?" The redhead spoke up, still staring down the barrel of her gun.
"You can't figure that out?" The girl answered, snark and sarcasm evident in her voice as she stared Natasha down.
That was when Tony decided to intervene. "Hey, Hobbit, eyes here!"
The girl growled up at him.
Sensitive about her height, good to know. Tony didn't falter. "She asked you a question. Who are you?"
"Somebody that's about to make your life very painful."
At that, she snapped up. Breaking the handcuffs encasing her wrists with little ease. Everybody stared in shock. She was quick. Darting to the opposite side of the room, putting the table between her and the superheroes, she looked towards the door. Clint was almost ready to send an arrow into her leg when three little red clouds appeared.
Wanda, using her powers, trapped the girl's wrists against the wall behind her. Taking careful consideration for the bullet wound in her lower abdomen, she also added a small red cloud around her ribs. Just to keep her steadied.
The girl, for her part, tried to kick and squirm and free herself from the magic that was currently encasing her body, but she couldn't shift it.
Natasha stood in front of her. After a nod to Wanda, a slight assurance that she had her covered, she stepped closer.
"Who are you?"
The girl, currently pressed tightly against the wall, let out a frustrated scream at her inability to escape the magic red bonds. She finally let out a huff of defeat and dropped her head.
After a single moment of reflection, the girl lifted her eyes and let a cold stare land upon Natasha's face.
"My name is Maya. You people have no idea what you have just done."
- - - - - -
a/n #3: to be continued? i have no clue. i guess we'll see! also, i am sorry for any mistakes! i've never been very good at proofreading.
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Teacher’s Pet (Part 1)
Tumblr media
Masterlist for Teacher’s Pet
Aesthetic: by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​
Prompt: You're a college student, who is having a tough time of things. that is, until there’s an offer made between you and your favorite professors
Word Count: 3583
Song: Do with it by Betty Who
Warnings: sexual daydreaming,Flustered OFC, professor/student smut, SMUT galore that’s what this is,Dom/Sub, spanking, Sir troph, oral female receiving, beard kink, fingering, baby girl kink, professor kink, rough sex,
Note: This is basically porn in writing. If you're looking for super sound plot, you won't find it. Its sex. I focused on the sex. And my first crack at a threesome. I wrote this for my super amazing best friend @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “And that about wraps it up for today. Thanks for your time everyone,” Professor Banner said to the small class, dismissing them.
He was your favorite professor, well one of two. He taught biology, the course you were in was environmental biology. You grabbed your things and started to make your way toward the door, noticing that Professor Banner was staring at you. As soon as you made eye contact, he diverted his attention away. You frowned in confusion but went ahead out the door.
You had ten minutes to get to your next class, robotics, taught by the other professor that you loved, Professor Tony Stark.
If Banner was attractive, Stark was downright gorgeous.
Both were amazingly smart, talented, and funny, in their own way. Stark was always cracking jokes, and Banner had this shyness about him but let his dry wit show every now and then.
You were pretty active in both classes: sitting in the front row, answering questions, conversing with each professor.
You’d never seen either outside of class before, but they’d complimented your work on a paper or test before just as class was dismissing. Part of you really wanted to get to know them outside of class. Neither was much older than you really, nearly fresh out of grad school. You weren’t sure if it was their age, or intellect, or the way Professor Banner looked with a full on beard, or how sometimes Stark gave this little devious smirk that made you shift in your seat… but whatever it was, you daydreamed often in their class.
You focused fine on your work but when they were up there lecturing, in their zone, talking passionately about something they loved… You were nearly in a puddle by the end of class.
You walked into the classroom and Dr. Stark was just setting up his slideshow when he saw you. His eyes lit up, but you didn’t see it, he then addressed you and said, “Y/N, could you come here a moment?”
You frowned but dropped your backpack off on the way over to where he was standing. No one else was in the room yet, but he still spoke low.
“Hey, so don’t take this the wrong way,” he started, “but I’ve noticed you’re grades are slipping a little. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just--”
Students started to stream in so he cut you off and said, “Can you come by my office a little later and we’ll discuss it?”
Your eyes went to the floor quickly. “Sure.”
“Great, how does 5:00 PM work?”
“Uh, that’s fine.”
“Fantastic,” he cooed before eyeing you up and down quickly. “Class is about to start,” he reminded you softly.
You took your seat and class began. You stared at your professor wondering why he was so interested in seeing you after class. Then your mind began to wander to places it probably shouldn’t about him. However, your mind went there frequently for both professors.
That’s wrong, you chastised yourself though.
Your mind went here often though. Wondering about Dr. Stark’s close shaven beard scratching your face as he kissed you roughly. Or Dr. Banner taking his glasses off before lifting you onto his desk--
No, Y/N, stop, you ordered yourself. These were wild fantasies that would never ever come true and you needed to stop toying with them. It was just torture.
Well, until you were alone in your room at night and thoughts of them drifted through your head and your hand went south and your name on their lips sounded like a prayer in your head. Dr. Banner’s sultry voice right in your ear, Dr. Stark’s teeth biting at your ear as he held your ass in his hands--
Stop! You all but shouted.
The classroom would soon be flooded if you continued thinking like this.
You shut down the thoughts and paid attention to the rest of the lecture. Class dismissed and you went to study until 5:00. Come to think of it, 5:00 was a pretty late time to meet. Why on earth would…
No, that’s preposterous, you thought, snuffing the idea out quickly.
You hurried to Dr. Stark’s office. You had to look it up quickly since you’d never been there. As soon as you arrived, the main lobby to the other professor’s offices seemed barren. No receptionist, no other professors were around. It was like a ghost town. You partially wondered if Dr. Stark even remembered the appointment with how dark and quiet it was.
Looking at the numbers on the doors you found the office. You poked your head into the office, spotting your professor at his desk.
“Dr. Stark? Is now still a good time?” you questioned uneasily.
“Ah, hi, Y/N,” he greeted warmly. “Come in. Now is still good, if it’s still good for you.”
“Yes.”
You stepped in and sat down across from him in one of the two chairs across from his desk.
“I’m sorry, sir, am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?” you questioned, worried.
“No, no, not at all,” he assured as he rounded the desk and leaned against it. “I’m just worried,” he started.
“About?”
“Well as I mentioned in class earlier, your grades are slipping a tiny bit and I just wanted to check in and see if there’s anything I can do to help?” He cocked his head curiously.
“Uh, no, not that I can think of…”
“What’s been going on?” he wondered sweetly. “You’re usually my top student.”
“Yeah I just… the rent went up at my place, so I’ve had to pick up more hours where I work and I’ve had less time to study. I’m really sorry. I appreciate you noticing, but unless there’s some extra credit work I can do I’m not sure how you can help.”
“Extra credit hmm?” he mused. He eyed you up and down and unless you were absolutely bonkers, he was checking you out. He looked as if he could pounce on you, or eat you up… possibly eat you out? No, that was crazy, right?
Or was it?
Jesus, he was biting his lip now.
You needed to snap him out of it.
“Professor Stark?” you said curiously, trying to recall his attention, or at least to other things.
“Hmm?” he finally replied, humming his response. “Y/N, what do you think of my class?”
“What?” you asked, pausing before answering. “Uh, I love it. It’s probably one of my favorites in my entire academic career.”
“That’s good to hear. And me? Do you like me?” he probed seriously, his eyes boring into yours.
The room seemed to freeze as blood shot into your face, making your cheeks hot.
“I, uh, yeah, I mean, for a professor, you’re--uh, sir I’m not really sure how to answer--”
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he quickly said his demeanor going from panther on the prowl to sweet, understanding guy. He took the seat next to you. “I just thought… maybe I was delusional, but I thought sometimes… well, in class… sometimes I’ve caught you staring. If I’m wrong, if I’m way off base, then we can just call this whole thing off, no hard feelings I swear.”
“Call what off?” you inquired, somewhat curious about his intentions.
“Well if I’m not mistaken, you find me attractive. I mean, I know I find you attractive,” he said with a coy face.
“Dr. Stark, I.. I’m not so sure this is a good idea…”
“So that’s not a no? And I swear, if it is a no, if I’ve read it wrong, we’ll forget the whole thing, no hard feelings,” he assured you with a smile. “We can just come up with another way to get you some extra credit.”
“No!” you quickly said, a little too quickly, to the point that your cheeks somehow got even hotter. “I mean, I… I’d really like the first option of earning credit,” you said a bit shakily.
“Really? So I’m not wrong?” he inquired with an eyebrow twitch and smirk.
“No,” you said, shaking your head. “Um, have you don’t this before? I mean, how did you know…?”
“I’ve never done this before with a student, no,” he promised. “But I can’t seem to help myself with you. You sit up front, wearing those short skirts, it’s hard for me not to notice.”
“Oh,” was all you could get out.
“Damn, I really want to kiss you right now,”  he suddenly said, eyeing your lips while biting his bottom lip.
“Then do it,” you urged breathlessly.
In an instant he was out of the chair, standing over you, his mouth on yours, his hands cradling your head. It all happened so fast you had no idea how he could move that quickly. His tongue gently worked towards your lips, persuading you to open your mouth and allow him in.
It honestly didn’t take much coaxing, you’d been dreaming about this moment the first time he gave a lecture.
He kissed you more and more, pushing harder, both of you barely able to breathe from the closeness and your mouths moving so much. He reached his hands down from your neck to your ass, picking you up out of the chair and placing you on his desk.
He broke the kissing before instructing you to stand up. He pulled you by the hands to stand up. Then he circled you slowly, his hands trailing on your waist before he landed behind you. He took your hair and pulled it over your shoulder, exposing your ear.
He put his lips close to your ear and said, “Bend over.”
Chills went down your spine and for a moment you were frozen. This was really happening.
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
“No,” you breathed quickly before following his order.
“No… what?” he prompted, his hand rubbing your ass cheek. He reached forward, grabbing a wooden ruler from his desk and you began to nearly pant at the sight.
“No, sir?” you responded, unsure of what he wanted.
“Very good,” he said quickly before reeling his hand back and smacking your behind, a little hard. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to notice. You yelped in response from the shock and giddiness. “You’ll address me as such from now on. That was just a warning shot.”
You wiggled your ass playfully.
“Oh, do you want more, baby girl?” he asked, his face lighting up at your enthusiasm.
“Yes,” you said barely above a whisper.
Another quick smack came to your cheek.
“Yes, what?” he growled in your ear.
“Yes, sir,” you corrected quickly.
“Such a quick learner. That’s why I love having you in my class.”
He pulled you up, spun you around, and coaxed you to lie back on the desk. You ignored the way some of the files felt against your back and a couple of other forgeign items. To be honest, it was pretty hot laying on his desk, your legs dangling, your skirt barely covering your underwear.
“Won’t people hear or walk in?” you asked nervously.
“No,” he promised as he went to shut the door and lock it. “Everyone’s gone home for the day. It’s Friday, it’s after 5, I promise we’re the only two here.”
He returned to you kissing you passionately. “God, I’ve waited for this for so long. I’ve wanted you since that first day in my class, but I wasn’t sure how to ask without… feeling like I was forcing myself on you.”
“No,” you assured shaking your head, grabbing at his shirt with both fists, “I’ve wanted this too.”
“Good,” he said with a dazzling smile that met his eyes before he suddenly ducked down, picking your legs up and putting them on the desk. Your back was now on the desk, with your heels digging into the corner of it, your ass exposed as your skirt fell. He put his hands on your slit over your panties. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he breathed with admiration.
“Mhm,” you whimpered as you stared at him.
“That’s what I like to see. Someone eager. Tell me, doll, are you eager?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” you stammered out, already breathless.
This was really happening. You’d thought about it. You’d wanted this for a long time. But Dr. Tony Stark’s face was actually between your thighs right now.
“Oh, such a good answer,” he responded with that star-studded smirk before he dove at your pussy. With a hooked finger, he pulled your panties out of the way so he could make quick work of your clit with his mouth. His lips collided with your pussy lips so fast your breath hitched in your throat. He sucked on you, hard, making you squirm.
After a minute or so, he let up, easing into just a few teasing flicks of his tongue before just letting his tongue work all over your pussy. A few licks on the clit, then it’d slowly trail down to your opening, where he darted it inside you, making you nearly come undone. Then back again to your clit. He kept up this agonizing pace. Every time he tongue fucked your hole, you felt like exploding, but then he’d move away to your clit. The tip against your clit or even flattening it out felt like you’d just buck your hips against him and your orgasm would come -- but it never did. He wouldn’t allow it.
He could feel you ready to release but he wasn’t quite ready to give it up just yet.
“Oh, no, Ms. Moran. You must have me confused with another professor that gives in so easily,” he teased as he backed away from your legs slowly. He was glistening with your liquids, all over his chin. It was a glorious sight.
He took his finger and barely touched your clit. The hypersensitivity made you flinch. He watched you with lustful eyes, smirking at every noise and move you made.
As he watched you, he slowly made his way to your pussy, playing around the edge of it. Touching it slightly, gently, enough to somewhat satisfy but never actually feel like anything gratifying.
“Professor!” you all but snapped at him, hitting his desk, begging in your tone.
“Oh, do you want it, baby girl?”
“Yes!”
He smirked again before he sank one finger into you, moaning at the sensation. That made two of you. He joined the other finger, stretching you out, and loving the sight of it. Here you were, finally all his, squirming on his desk, your tight little pussy wrapped around his fingers. You were all his. He was the reason you were a mewling mess, your hair fucked up on his papers, tresses of your locks laying over his keyboard.
Yes, this image would be something he’d lock away for later, when he was alone.
“I do love you calling me professor,” he admitted. “Do it again,” he ordered in a darker voice.
“Professor,” you breathed, loving the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you. The pace wasn’t rapid, but it wasn’t slow. It was like a metronome, enough to not drive you crazy, but not so rapid that it had no meaning to it. Every push and pull felt new, felt alive.
His free hand snaked up to your throat, wrapping his long fingers around your neck. He barely applied any pressure but it was enough to get the point across.
“Louder,” he commanded.
“Professor,” you said again with more gumption.
He began pumping his fingers harder into you, rougher, but god it felt fucking amazing. It was rhythmic, with a purpose.
“I can’t hear you, Ms. Moran! Speak up so the whole class can hear you!” he all but roared.
“Fuck! Finger fuck me, professor! Fuck me with your cock! Anything!” you let out, your fantasies spilling out of your mouth.
“Mmm, god damn I’ve waited a long time to hear that.”
You grinned up at him, elated at how he seemed to be worshiping every thing about you -- every noise, every movement, every confession. He was soaking it up.
He pulled his fingers from you all too quickly, leaving behind a gaping, wanting, aching cunt.
You whimpered in response.
“Oh, don’t worry, baby doll,” he assured, leaning between your legs to kiss your lips. He unzipped his pants and pulled out a nice looking cock. It was longer than average, and just a bit girthier than anyone you’d ever been with. He took the head and smacked it against your clit. “You like that, sweetheart?”
You nodded, holding onto your legs. “Mhm.”
“So obedient and willing to take whatever I have to offer,” he mused, eyeing you appreciatively. “I like that.”
“I like that you like that,” you responded evenly with a grin.
He smirked, smacking your clit again, making you yelp in ecstasy. Your clit was over sensitive, and every little touch sent your nerves on fire. Your pussy was still throbbing though and it desperately needed to be filled. Not by anything, by his dick and his dick alone.
“Please, professor?” you begged.
“As you wish, baby girl.” With that, he took the wetness that had you soaked, coated the tip of his dick in your juices, and slid into you. It was slow. He wanted to savor every centimeter as he slid in. He’d been waiting too long to ruin it by just shoving inside you. He wanted to feel every warm fold as it seemed to pull him deeper inside you.
You had to be honest, you wanted it slow too. Of course, you wanted him to fucking ram that cock inside you and never look back. But you, too, had awaited this moment since you first laid eyes on him and you didn’t want it to just disappear in one fell swoop.
You leaned your head back and appreciated every inch he took of you, opening you up, spreading your pussy with his shaft, burying himself deeper inside you.
Finally, he bottomed out. His nuts were resting against your ass and it was another sensation you didn’t know you needed.
He reveled there for just a moment, taking in the pleasure of simply having your cunt wrapped entirely around his dick. He’d dreamed of this forever.
Then he started to move, and fuck, you thought you’d come undone right then and there. He barely started to pull out, but it was enough to ignite your insides all over again. He pulled out barely half an inch the first few times, just enjoying how you felt around him. But then the pace picked up. He was greedy. He wanted to feel himself fuck you properly. He wanted to feel you, fast, rapid, quick. He wanted your warmth to grip at him desperately as he pulled out further then slammed back in.
Each time he slammed in, bottoming out, you’d let out this precious sound that sounded like heaven falling from your lips. Tony could nearly cum from just that sound.
He groaned and moaned as his hips stuttered into you, over, and over, and over, his pace relenting. It felt amazing, you just needed that one little touch on your clit to--
He was way ahead of you. He saw how you were moving, how your tits were bouncing as your back arched. He continued his pace as he licked his fingers before putting them down on your clit, making little motions on them. He threw his head back as he felt you start to clench.
Your stomach got that familiar warm feeling, your legs tensing.
“Oh, oh, fuck, Professor, I’m about to…” you uttered out.
“Come on, Ms. Moran. You’ve never disappointed me before. Cum for your favorite professor,” Tony coaxed sweetly, staring down at you, practically demanding you.
That’s all it took.
The dam broke and you were gushing around his dick. He continued to fuck you relentlessly, making your orgasm ride out as wave after wave of release washed over you.
“Ugh, ugh, ugh,” he chanted, moaning. “Fuck, Y/N, God damn baby you feel so fucking great,” he panted as he held your legs. He kept fucking you, slamming into you until you could feel it. His dick was extremely hard, he cried out, your name sounding almost like a curse as he came in you. Hot ropes of semen spilled inside you. He slowed his motions, but still pumped you. He leaned over you, kissing you, until he finally pulled himself out.
You couldn’t help but giggle as you stood up.
Tony grabbed a rag from his bottom drawer, offering it to you for cleanup.
“So… about that grade?” you reminded.
“Oh, of course. You can do some extra credit, due whenever.” He smirked at you, making you realize the fucking was just a ploy.
“You naughty professor!” you chastised, smacking his arm.
“I’m thinking we should have a system,” he proposed, leaning against the desk as he zipped his pants.
“Oh?”
“Whenever you want to fuck, you wear a skirt to my class.”
“Really?”
“Really. Any skirt. You wear that, and if you show up to my office in a skirt, I know you want to be fucking railed,” he stated. “Of course, i think next time we do this, it should be at my house, with a bed and everything.”
“Whatever you think’s best,” you responded with a smile.
He grinned before capturing you in a kiss.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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tchalla-rogers · 4 years
Text
Avengers: Shutdown (Part 2)
Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader
Part 1 is HERE. Series Masterlist 
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Unknown Location: 2024
Rough hands gripped your arms, ripping you out of the bed you had dozed off in. Your eyes moved around the room fleetingly to get a sense of who just grabbed you, but only the hallway was lit and didn’t shed any light on the suspect’s face. And across dimly lit hall, the man in the quarters across from you, whom you had learned his name to be Marcus, was in the same predicament as yourself.
Your body collapsed to the icy cement floor of the hallway, your mind so full of thoughts that being dragged out of bed was only a blur. Marcus was slumped on the ground next to you and you finally read fear in his eyes, a rarity once you assumed he could only exude nonchalance.
“Aufstehen (stand up)!” one of the men roared and pointed a gun in your direction.
Marcus leaped in front of you, arms raising above his head in hopes that it wouldn’t be his last move while guarding you. “Hey, hey...watch it with the gun.” You rolled your eyes behind him, feeling their stares gain intensity. Even though his eyes painted themselves with angst, his voice remained unwavering.
“Stand up or I’ll shoot you both.” Their words were hardly understandable, but the last few words ran your blood cold, your body reacting before your brain could. Once the both of you finally stood up, they motioned for you to turn and to continue walking down the eldritch hallway.
Once you both swiveled around, you felt the barrel of a gun press into your back. Marcus grunted, affirming that it wasn’t solely you being guided by the fear of death to an unknown location.  
You barely found time to take in your surroundings as fear gripped you and controlled your every motion. Your bare feet padded against the floor, unsure of how long you had been walking. “This is a nice place,” Marcus quipped in order to ease the situation, but the men failing to emit a chuckle proved it didn’t work. “Hey, how does that gun work?”
In pure disbelief, you peered over to your left to where Marcus should’ve been walking, but you were only met with bewildered eyes from the man who was supposed to be guarding Marcus.
“Wo ist er (where is he)?!”
“Wie hast du ihn verloren (how did you lose him)?!”
The men frantically scanned the area, shouts being heard that you couldn’t translate. And quite honestly, there was no indication as to where Marcus could’ve gone. The only affirmation you witnessed of his whereabouts was a gun seemingly being ripped from the trembling hands of his guard by an invisible force.
Your jaw dropped immediately in surprise, albeit enhanced individuals were normal for you. It just never occurred to you why Marcus was there; neither of you had talked about each other's abilities, the thought merely slipping your minds. And now you knew all you needed to know.
You took a step back from the situation unraveling which only caused your guard to raise his gun at you. “It’s not me!” you shrieked, arms raising above your head.
“Geh runter auf den Boden (get down on the floor)!”
“It’s not me!”
The discussion ended quickly when a gunshot rang in your ears and the man fell to the ground in a heap. He hollered, clutching his leg due to the bullet inflicted below his kneecap; his gun was seamlessly pushed a few feet away from him to where he could not reach.  
Before you could even process the situation unfolding in front of you, Marcus was back and kneeling next to the two men weeping in fear on the floor. “Sie sollten Verstärkung mitbringen (you should bring reinforcements),” he stated and outstretched his hand, both of the men slumping to the ground.
He breathed heavily, dropping the gun in his hand to the floor. A thousand questions were racing through your mind and as he turned around, it occurred to you that you really didn’t know this man. At the end of the day, you were held as a prisoner by someone you hadn’t met and Marcus was a mere stranger.
Although you were generously content that he had taken down the two men, you backed up with each step he took forward. “Hey, I know you’re a little scared right now…”
“No shit,” you mumbled.
“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he began, finally halting his steps. “They brought us out for a reason and they’re going to be wondering why Tweedledee and Tweedledum didn’t make it with us.” You remained hesitant and silent, eyes following his every movement. “I told you, we have something they need. I guess you’ve seen mine.”
The reality of his words hit hard, freezing in your spot. You had wholeheartedly assumed the only reason why “they” needed you was because of your connections. Hell, you knew your father was trying his hardest to locate you and you would bring him right to the enemy.
But, deep down you realized that there was a greater reason, one you hadn’t even contemplated. You never possessed any enhanced abilities, relying solely on your physical training to get through every mission. Marcus’ lips curled into a smirk witnessing your realization.
“Holy shit,” you muttered.
“Down on the ground!” a thick voice boomed from the end of the hall, causing both of your heads to swivel to the suspect.
***
Germany: 2024
Tony slept on the couch every night, awakening in the early morning and using F.R.I.D.A.Y. to hopefully find some more information for the rest of the day until his eyes couldn’t take it anymore. He slept soundly the first night, but the video was gnawing on his brain. And when he found Steve in the kitchen the next morning, he made it his priority to show Steve that video.
Steve vividly remembered that night, fear gripping his soul when you collided with the floor before you both could say “I do”. The sound of you choking for air was woefully unforgettable. You were immediately rushed to the hospital, a miracle that you didn’t flatline on the way there.
Pepper and Morgan went home, not wanting to subject Morgan to how terrifying the situation was for a young child. Everyone else had stayed, although Tony had assured them to return home and he would update them. Then it became Steve and Tony, waiting patiently for some communication on what had happened to you that day with Pepper visiting every day to drop off food and check on the worried men.
The one day they both left for an hour, just to get some fresh air, they returned to an empty bed and an unkempt hospital room you had once occupied as the doctors attempted to calm them down.
The thought had completely slipped Tony’s mind when he was searching for information, F.R.I.D.A.Y. making the suggestion on a night that Tony couldn’t sleep. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had scanned the cameras from the hospital you stayed in the night of your wedding and they had been restored from prior deletion.
Tony sat and watched the video for hours, biting his lip and kneading his hands together in an attempt to come up with something...anything, that could bring him closer to his daughter. Grateful for F.R.I.D.A.Y., again, facial recognition had found Steve and even matched up a suspect from the hospital on German street cameras, confirming Germany was where he needed to be.
That night, Tony packed his bags and informed Pepper about the lead he received. Pepper urged him to go because even if she was hiding her pain from your sudden disappearance, it was burning a hole in her heart every second you weren’t there. It pained Tony to say goodbye to Morgan, even if it was for a few days or weeks, although it was something he wasn’t able to do with you before the wedding.
After Tony showed Steve that video, he couldn’t get the video out of his mind either, even a week later. Tony never thought he would be comforting Steve on their dainty apartment couch as Steve wept. While they both knew what had happened that day in the hospital, they still had no hints or clues as to where exactly in this godforsaken country they had taken you.  
Virginia tried her hardest and Steve appreciated it, albeit sometimes it didn’t seem like it. It took her some time to get accustomed to another Avenger’s presence in their temporary apartment, but it motivated her to work harder.
All three sat in the living room, searching on laptops or using F.R.I.D.A.Y. for further information. It was eerily silent if the incessant typing from Virginia and muttering from Tony weren’t heard, until F.R.I.D.A.Y. had spoken up. “Sir, I have some news.”
Tony looked over to Steve and Virginia and both of them had their eyes on him. News came far and few between this past week and it made him anxious to even reply. “What is it?”
A moment later, the AI replied. “Facial recognition scans show a male being taken a day before Y/N was, I will be searching for his information. On the other hand, sir...my system recognized a symbol on one of the men involved in his disappearance, matching one of the men who took Y/N.” A holographic image showed a symbol on one of their sleeves, Tony’s blood running cold. “Based on additional scans, this looks like HYDRA’s, but it is not quite the same.”
“Holy shit,” Tony whispered, mouth agape.
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13-reasons-ideas · 4 years
Text
Finding Peace In Another Part 27
An hour later, Montgomery came back. I turned my head at the sound of the door opening and felt hot tears slip down my face. His nose was bleeding but didn’t look broken, his lip was split in 3 different places, and his face was bruised. His knuckles were bleeding, though I knew it wasn’t all his blood. Those were just the injuries I could see. I jumped off the couch and ran to hug him, glad he was alright even though I was furious with him. I was gentle but still felt him flinch under the touch. He tried to hide it as he brought his arms around me and held me as I cried into his chest. He just kept mumbling apologies to me, holding me until I was done. Once I had calmed down a bit, I went to get the first aid kit and some ice for his hands. He stood in the doorway, unsure if I wanted him to come in or not. Nodding from the kitchen, I saw him walk in but not sit down. “Sit.” It was the first word I said to him in the 10 minutes he had been back in my home. He sat on a chair at the island and watched as I gathered the alcohol and went through the first aid kit. “Scott can you grab some peas from the freezer please?” Scott looked at me like I had three heads. Rolling my eyes about to explain and make a comment about it, I heard Montgomery speak.
“For my hands. More flexible than an ice pack, smaller than ice cubes. Better coverage. Plus snacks.” He said to Scott, repeating the words I had said to him so many times before. I felt the tears in my eyes well up again and angrily wiped them away. I was mad at him. He didn’t need to do that. He was getting better with his anger, yesterday discounted. What did you expect him to do when you told him? Go and have a nice little talk with Bryce over tea and cookies? Playing video games? At the batting cage? I thought to myself. Shaking my head and focusing on what I was doing, I walked over to him and got to work. I motioned towards the sink and grabbed a cloth to clean his hands before disinfecting his wounds. I tried to be gentle but may have used a little more alcohol than strictly necessary when wiping his knuckles. I felt him flinch, but he didn’t pull away. He just kept apologizing quietly to me. I wasn’t sure if it was for what he did or if he was apologizing for what happened to me, but I wasn’t about to ask. As I wrapped his hands in gauze and wiped his face with an old cloth, I felt eyes on my back. Zach and Scott were still here. Turning to face them, I noticed the looks they were giving me. Like they were wondering how many times I had done this, how I didn’t even need to speak and he just did what I wanted him to do, why I did this for him, when did it start, how had they missed it? Still not talking to Montgomery, I motioned to Scott and the freezer, “peas please.” and watched as he grabbed them from the freezer and handed them to me. They kept watching us. Trying to keep our discussion as brief as possible, I simply asked Monty “right or left?” and placed the peas on his left hand when he indicated that one felt more swollen.
While the boys sat downstairs thinking through what they had witnessed, or in Montgomery’s case, done not two hours before, I went upstairs to change. I put on a pair of leggings and, after thinking about it for a minute or five, threw one of Montgomery’s T-shirt’s and my favourite of his flannels. I wanted to be comfortable for the conversation that was about to happen. I heard footsteps coming towards my room as I changed and a knock at the door followed by a soft ‘fuck’. “Rebecca?” Monty called through my bedroom door.
Still mad at him, though that feeling was dissipating slowly, I responded with a short “hmmm?” as I moved towards the door.
“Please let me in. I’m sorry.” He begged me. Sighing I opened the door and let him in. He immediately had his arms around me and had his face in my hair. Pulling away from the hug, he went and sat on my bed. He opened his mouth and the words came spilling out.  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. And I didn’t notice. I made you hang out with him. I made you spend time with him. I left you alone with him. It’s my job to protect you and I couldn’t do that. I’m sorry Rebecca.”
“You didn’t know.” Was all I could find the words to say.
“The point is, I should have known though Becks.”
“You couldn’t have known. And while I don’t agree with you defending him to begin with, I can see why you did it. He’s your friend. No one would want to think that about their friend or think that they would be capable of doing that.” He was quiet for a long time.
“This is a dumb question, but are you… okay?”
“I mean, yeah. I’m okay.”
“Are you still mad at me?” He asked, looking at me with sad eyes.
“Kind of, yes.” He looked down and nodded sadly. I held my hand out to him. “Why don’t we go downstairs and talk? I’m sure Zach and Scott have questions.” He nodded again and took my hand.
Together, we walked downstairs, and I sat on the couch, with one knee up to rest my chin on. The boys looked at me, but I stayed silent for a long time. How am I going to explain this? What if they think it was my fault? I can’t even call it what it was. People know now. I found the polish on my toenails very interesting. I had recently painted them a purple-y grey shade. To avoid eating, the thought occurred to me. It’s fine. I’m not really doing it intentionally. It’s just a distraction. I felt a hand being placed on my leg, startling me. I jumped before I remembered I wasn’t alone. I had gotten so in my head, that I forgot I wasn’t alone. I placed my hand on Monty’s and moved it off of me. His touch didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything, it was just an awkward place to touch me. Mhmm. You go with that. Zach broke the silence first.
“It didn’t end with Hannah, did it?” I shook my head, almost unperceptively.
“Did you honestly think it would?” I asked, not knowing if I wanted an answer.
“I don’t know. I guess I had to have hope that it would.”
“Yeah, well. Load of good that did.” He didn’t respond. Maybe I offended him.
“Are you okay?” Scott asked, sounding unsure.
“Yeah, Scotty. I’m okay.” I replied flatly. This is not how I wanted this to go. I would have been fine if no one ever found out.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Monty asked. I stopped to think. Why hadn’t I told him? How could I explain the threats and the shame and the fear? And on top of all of that, make him understand?
“I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t know how?”
“What happened?” Zach asked.
“Does it matter? You knew what he was like.” I mumbled. This is pointless.
“I know. Do you want to talk to Mr. Porter?”
“Nope.”
“Don’t you want justice?” Scott asked. Justice?
“You mean, sit in a courtroom and be judged for a situation I had no control over? Have my story picked apart? And in the end maybe have him serve three months’ probation at best, and then he can just go on with his life? No thank you. Don’t even try to say that’s not what would happen. Because that’s exactly how it works. He can kind of throw a football well sometimes, so he has a future to worry about.” The boys sat silently, stunned by my outburst. “None of you have ever had to be taught what you would go through to get ‘justice’.”
After a time, Monty put his hand back on my thigh and pulled me close to him. “I really am sorry Becca.”
“I know.” I muttered. I took a deep breath before I rested my head on his shoulder. Our friends left shortly after and Monty and I spent the rest of the night just sitting on the couch quietly.
After the hellish night explaining in basic terms, what Bryce had done to cause Montgomery beating him to a pulp, I didn’t want to deal with the implications of having kept it from him for so long just yet, I woke up in the short-tempered man’s arms. He must have carried me up to bed after I fell asleep. Rather than waking him, I decided to get up and make us some coffee as he needed the sleep. As I was pouring us both mugs, I heard him come downstairs and wrap his arms around my middle before burying his head in my neck, “morning”, he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep before taking the offered cup and taking a long sip.
“Good morning. Drink up. Scott and Zach will be here soon so we can go to school.” I responded, laughing at his groan in protest. I smirked at him over my coffee cup like I did on that first morning all those months ago. And just as he did all those months ago, Montgomery leaned down to press a tentative kiss to my lips before being interrupted by Scott knocking at my front door. I laughed at his face and shook my head as I swung my hips suggestively and opening the door for the boys. “impeccable timing as always Scotty. Come on in guys, I just have to go change and we can head out. You can keep cranky pants here company.” After I changed into some real clothes and finished my coffee, we headed out to school.
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife the closer we got to school. I looked over at Monty, his grip tight so on the steering wheel his knuckles were white, “Are you going to say anything to Bryce?” I asked him timidly.
“Not planning on it. Everything that needed to be said was said yesterday. If he’s smart, he will keep his distance and his mouth shut outside of games and practice.” He responded flatly before parking and exiting the Jeep, waiting for me to process his words and get out with him. He threw his arm over my shoulder protectively as Zach and Scott came over to us and we all walked towards school. I silently prayed we wouldn’t see Bryce but unfortunately, we were not that lucky. He was standing near the office and as we walked past him, we made brief eye contact before averting our eyes.  Montgomery pulled me tighter to him, effectively tucking me into his underarm and shoulder due to our height difference.
Arriving at my locker, I found Alex, Justin, Clay, and Tony waiting for me. Alex took one look at Montgomery and cocked his brow. “Really Monty? Beating us up wasn’t enough? You had to hurt some other poor soul too?” Alex asked him, disdain clear in his tone.
“Had to take care of something Alex. I’m fine though, thanks for asking.” Montgomery replied, plainly. I heard Alex scoff and decided I couldn’t deal with their stupid rivalry today.
“It was Bryce.” I interjected quietly, sipping my iced coffee-courtesy of Zach- looking up at Justin sadly.
“Why would he beat up Bryce? They’re best friends.” Clay asked, missing the unspoken answer.
“Yeah, aren’t you like… Bryce’s lap dog or someth- oh….” Alex began to ask before he caught on. “Are you okay Rebecca?”
“Um, yeah. Yeah I’m good.” I told him, though I didn’t even believe myself so I wouldn’t expect him to believe me. Tony just stood to the side quietly nodding to Montgomery.
The lightbulb must have gone off for Clay finally and his fists curled at his sides. Not again. I don’t have the energy for this today. “Seriously?” He turned to walk away, likely in search of Bryce. Thankfully, Justin stopped him.
“Dude, I think he’s had enough for a few days. Also, I’m next in line.”
“Fine. But Mom will freak if you have more bruises.”
“I won’t be the one with bruises.”
“Boys please?”
Justin rolled his eyes, but I noticed him fidgeting a little more again. Maybe he can be my distraction.
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ptersparkers · 5 years
Text
the worthy one (the adventures of y/n stark)
summary: a regularly updating collection of vignettes, which can be read in any order, that detail the life and adventures of y/n stark, a self-proclaimed baker, thrill seeker, and an all around good person.
a/n: this was inspired by the aou scene....THAT scene
warnings: swearing!
masterlist / taglist
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“What are you guys doing?” you asked as you walked into the common room. The tower was empty today and the sun was almost set. The Avengers, along with Peter, were lounging around various couches and other cushioned seats as Mjolnir sat on a glass table.
“Nice pajamas,” Peter teased. You stuck your younger out at him.
“We’re trying to see if any of these baffoons are worthy, Little Stark,” Thor said. You rolled your eyes at the nickname and sat on the cushion’s arm beside your father.
“Why are you up so late, kiddo?” Tony asked when he noticed your sleepy eyes, messy hair, and pajama bottoms Clint bought you as a gag gift for a Secret Santa game. Tony tried to fix the mess that was your hair and tucked a few strands behind your ear. The others were chattering among themselves and you took a look around before answering.
“I kept waking up because it’s so loud out here. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?” You slung your arm around Tony’s neck and pulled him closer to give him a side hug. He grinned and focused his attention to Thor, who beamed.
“I bet none of you are worthy enough to lift Mjolnir,” Thor teased, smirking at the lot. Maria rolled her eyes and laughed at Clint, who bet he could move it.
“Yeah right,” Natasha said, pushing Clint’s leg with the top of her foot as he got up to stand behind the all-mighty hammer.
“I mean, come on? This thing can’t weigh more than a child, at least,” said Clint.
“Really, you’re measuring its weight to a child?” Bruce said with a laugh.
Clint looked at you. “It probably weighs half of what Y/N weighs.”
You scoffed. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”
“I think that was a compliment?” Peter added, unsure of his answer.
You all watched as Clint cracked his knuckles and stretched, and it looked as if he was preparing for the biggest fight of his life. He rolled his neck to the left and right before taking a deep breath, placing both hands on the handle before pulling with all his might. To Clint’s dismay, the hammer didn’t budge.
“This thing’s gotta be broken,” Clint said, exasperated. “Hold on.” He put one foot on the table and pulled again, but nothing.
“Well, buddy, you did your best,” Thor said, sporting a beer bottle in his hand and pointing it at Clint as mock salute. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll try,” Natasha said. “I gain nothing from this other than knowing I won’t be able to lift it. My curiosity can be put to sleep.”
“Oh come on, Nat,” Bruce said. “You could probably do it.”
Natasha laughed and put two hands on the hammer for before lifting, but faced the same fate as Clint. She shrugged as everyone gave her half-hearted laughs and looked around the room to see who would go next.
“Dad, you should try it,” you egged, pushing his shoulder off of the couch. “If anyone’s worthy of lifting Thor’s hammer, it’s you.”
Tony looked back at you with a gleam in his eye and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly and he felt like his heart grew ten times the size it already was.
“You’re something else,” he said with a smile, shaking his head as he stood up. Tony put both hands on the handle and looked at you, winking before pulling with all his might.
Nothing.
“Maybe I should get some Iron Man gear in here,” Tony mumbled before leaving to retrieve a tool. He came back a minute later and tried to use his tech to lift the hammer but to no avail. “Rhodey, mind helping me out with this one?”
The group watched with humor as both Tony and Rhodey tried to lift the hammer with the hands of their suits. Both men decided they had enough when they broke a sweat and Tony landed back on his seat with a pleasant sigh, looking at you.
“You’re still worthy to me,” you said teasingly.
He wagged a finger in front of you. “I better be.”
“Thor, I have a question,” Peter said.
“Ask away, young one.”
“Does the person who pick up the hammer rule Asgard?”
Thor shrugged. “Not really. I mean yes? But again, not really. Well, kind of.”
Peter looked perplexed. “Okay, that wasn’t confusing at all.”
“Steve, you should go,” you said, nodding your head towards him.
“Me? Oh, no, I could never,” he said, waving you off and taking a sip of his whiskey.
“Come on! You’ve gotta at least try,” Clint added.
“You’re a fucking super soldier,” Natasha added, pushing him off of the seat next to her. “You may be old, but you’re not that old.”
Steve laughed at her comment and put his hands in the air to surrender before taking a deep breath. He placed both of his hands around the handle and pulled with all his might, like his fellow friends, and to Thor’s surprise, the base of the hammer moved slightly.
You watched as Thor’s eyes moved to the moving surface and witnessed his expression transition from humored to slightly anxious. When Steve relinquished the handle and admitted defeat, you saw that Thor had let out a nervous chuckle before clearing his throat.
“Anyone else?”
“I wanna try!” Peter said, standing up enthusiastically. “I highly doubt I’ll move it but I want to say I tried.”
“Go on then, Parker,” Thor said, gesturing his hand at Mjolnir.
Peter gripped the handle and pulled. He wasn’t surprised when the hammer didn’t move, but pulled once again. Peter eventually let go with a heavy sigh and put his hands on his hips as everyone watched and gave him a small round of applause.
“You did good, kid,” Tony said, slow clapping at his effort.
Thor seemed to have forgotten about Mjolnir as he spoke to Rodey and Bruce about the Yankees game the previous day. Maria called it a night and made sure to give you a hug before leaving and told you to swing by her office to pick up some internship applicant papers she wanted you to review (to see who’s be a good fit, she said. From a kid’s perspective). Natasha and Clint got into a little argument about something you’d rather not know. You scooted next to Peter when Tony got up to talk to Steve and you gave him a look.
“What?” he asked.
You stood up and looked at Mjolnir and back at Peter, who only shrugged his shoulders, and then back at Mjolnir. Without much thought (you thought you’d end up dislocating your shoulders if you pulled too hard), you gripped the hammer with both hands before realizing you were holding the mighty hammer above your heard.
Your eyes widened and you turned around immediately to be met with Peter’s equally surprised expression.
“Guys?” you asked around, though no one paid much attention to the spectacle that was before them. “Hello?” you asked louder, waving the hammer around with one hand this time.
The voices died down as soon as their eyes landed on you and your father’s eyes practically fell out of their sockets when he saw what you were holding.
“Holy shit!” Tony exclaimed. You couldn’t read his expression as he put down his glass of whiskey and stared at you with an open mouth.
“I suppose you are worthy, Little Stark,” Thor said with a single slap. You pointed the hammer at him when he took a step closer.
“I am not little.”
Thor chuckled and took the weapon from your hands before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.
“Of course you aren’t. We have a lot to discuss tomorrow, don’t we?” Thor left the room, leaving the rest of you dazed and confused.
Tony walked up to you and immediately wrapped you in his arms, putting his chin on the top of your head.
“I have no idea what any of this means,” you said honestly. “That was...so surprising.”
“Way to go, kid!” Steve said, grinning and giving you a high five. Bruce and Natasha followed after, with Clint giving you a wink. Everyone eventually filed out of the living room except for you, Tony, and Peter.
“Does this mean she rules Asgard now?” Peter asked innocently. Tony laughed, but he wasn’t really sure what yielding the hammer meant.
“Well, Pete, all I know is my darling little Y/N is worthy. I mean, we all knew she was worthy without the hammer, but this proves it now.”
“Daaad,” you exaggerated.
Tony laughed again and smiled down at you before kissing your forehead, relinquishing you from his arms.
“I am so proud of you,” Tony said with a gentle tone. “Every part of you that exists today is because of you. I’m just happy that I get to be part of your journey. Now, I’m going to foster another glass of whiskey and tell Pepper what happened tonight before freaking out tomorrow morning. See you then?”
“See you then,” you said with a sleepy and satisfied smile. Tony grinned at you one more time before saying goodnight to Peter, who followed you to your room. You closed the door and fetched a blanket for him to sleep with, pulling out the hidden pull-out mattress underneath your bed frame.
“I should probably stop sleeping here,” Peter said as he climbed into bed. You looked down at him from your mattress and leaned down to flick his forehead.
“It’s fine. My dad knows you’re a good kid and that we don’t really do anything other than eat and complain. Besides, I’d probably chew him out if he tried to throw you out,” you said.
“Fair point,” Peter said with a yawn. “I can’t believe you’re gonna be the Queen of Asgard.”
You burst out laughed and asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn the lights out, wondering if, just maybe, you’d really be queen.
***
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melyaliz · 4 years
Text
Past loves and future babies pt. 6
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Masterlist
Fandom: Marvel MCU 
Summary: Moopy moods, trash books, and good advice. Also know as: Dixie and Steve try and find some common ground. 
Pairing: Steve Rogers 
Notes: The book Dixie found is a reference to my really good friend’s novel Close Quarters. While not a Trashy book I am obsessed with the cover. Also I highly recommend checking out her work, her newest book Shard of Glass I may or may not have helped story edit. (Once it’s published I will make a longer post about it) 
All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​​
Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest
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-------------------------
There was just 
So
Much 
Drama
Who knew that the American beefcake could just be so moody.
More like American drama.  
Dixie went to bed alone that night and didn’t see Steve the next morning. 
Part of her was grateful for it. 
Part of her just wanted to leave. 
Although she was starting to get attached to this bedroom and apartment. It just had so many amenities. Just this morning she had even found a cabinet that had extra pillows and blankets of all sizes and textures so she could choose the perfect ones for her mopey mood. 
Or her dealing with mopey mood.
What a pair they were. A pair of mopes. Too bad they couldn’t mope together. They were, after all, in this situation together. 
But Dixie wasn’t one to stay mopy for too long. Life was too short and this place was way too cool. (Plus it didn’t look good on her and causes wrinkles) So after having a nice breakfast on the balcony the young woman decided to forget Steve’s drama and explore. After all. She wasn’t a prisoner here. She was a guest. 
What is the worst that could happen? 
------------
Dixie was lost.
This place was too big and she didn't have Mac’s voice in her ear telling her where to go. It was insane to her how much she acted like this tough chick yet it was becoming more and more clear that she was basically (literally and figuratively) lost without her brother. 
“Are you lost?” 
The sound that came out of Dixie was something she never hoped to make again. It was like something between a squeak and a scream by a deaf 80yearold man. The young woman who had spoken stared at her with a look of amusement fighting on her round face. Dressed in a flowing back dress her soft red hair was pulled in a messy bun. 
“I… sheesh you scared me.”
“Sorry, I’m light on my feet.” Wanda said, “I didn’t mean to scare you but you also seemed pretty caught up in your own thoughts.” 
“Yeah happens, I’m prone to daydreaming and getting lost in long hallways..” 
“Were you looking for someone?” 
Steve, she meant steve. Because who else would Dixie be looking for? And the bitter bitch answer was no. She didn’t want to see that man right now. She was being a self martyr the moment and over their fight. 
“No, I was just bored.” shoving her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans Dixie looked around. Trying to find a reason to excuse herself. 
“Well, you could join me in the library if you want,” Wanda offered. Dixie fought back a smile, then again it may be nice to get to know her… she wouldn’t call them roommates… more like compound mates?   
“Please tell me it’s like something out of Beauty and the Beast.” 
Wanda chuckled “Sort of,” 
It was... sort of. 
Like if Beast was inspired by an apple store. All white and clean. Large windows like the rest of the compound gave beautiful views and natural light. That illuminated rows and rows of books. 
“So what have you been reading?” Dixie asked, looking around feeling a little lost. A feeling she was starting to get used to. But contrary to popular believe this ditsy looking woman knew how to think of her feet and fit into most settings. She was, after all, a resilient survivor.  
Alice held up a Virginia Wolf book for her to see. “What kind of books do you normally read?” 
“Do be honest…” Dixie looked around, “I’m more of a Netflix and Chill kind of gal, but who knows maybe I can learn a new skill.” 
“Reading?” it came out more as a laugh than judgement. Dixie knew in that moment she had won over the witch. After all nothing says female bonding like a little light sarcasm. 
Dixie flashed her a wide smile, “I know we just met but… I’m very dumb.”  
With that Dixie slowly she made her way through the shelves. Just taking it all in. While yes, she wasn’t much of a reader there was just something… relaxing about a room filled with books. It was like the ocean or a rainy day. 
Soon she came upon a small collection of what looked like some trashy novels that had been shamefully hidden in the corner. She chose one that looked like a pirate romance, a strong opened shirt man holding a beautiful maiden on the cover. She honestly wasn’t even sure if she was going to read it but the fact that all those books looked so out of place she figured she mined as well give them some attention. 
They were like her. Trashy and slightly out of place in this beautiful white world. 
“So…” Dixie said, making her way back to the large sofas in the middle of the room, “How long have you known the team.? 
“A few years now, Although Tony and Natasha not as much as Steve.” Wanda said glancing up from her book. Her pretty eyes studied Dixie. While Dixie wasn’t sure the extend of her witchy powers she had a feeling Wanda knew… like she could read Dixie’s very soul. 
Then again it wasn’t a secret why Dixie was here. 
“Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure” 
Sitting down across from Wanda, Dixie folded her arms over her chest, “What happened to him?” 
“Honestly, I’m not the best person to ask,” Wanda said. 
--------------------------------
“What happened to you?” Sam asked, glancing at Steve who had been sleeping on his couch since last night. Sam knew that Steve wouldn’t go to Bucky because Steve’s “best” friend would kick him out and make him face his problems. 
While Sam was less likely to make him do the mature thing. 
“I need to go talk to her,” Steve sighed, rubbing his temples trying to loosen the headache that had been lodged there since last night. Tension that didn’t seem to want to leave. It had probably been building since the beginning of this week finally complaining into the blazing pain it was now. 
“Did you guys fight?” 
“Sort of.” Steve sighed leaning forward. “I don’t know.” 
“You know if you fought?” Sam asked, handing Steve some coffee before sitting next to him. 
“She just, sort of kept pushing stuff I didn’t want to talk about. And then I snapped at her.” 
“I find that hard to believe.” Sam muttered, “The you snapping part. Her pushing… Well I don’t really know her but she definitely didn’t seem like the shy sweet demeanor kind of girl.” 
That last comment made Steve want to defend her. Yes, Dixie had a pretty loud personality. Quick witted and a bit brash. But she was sweet. And even she had admitted she had been pushing him out of love. As a way to try and get to know him. 
If anything she was focused. Focused on this mission. Focused on that task at hand. 
Something Steve sure as hell wasn’t. 
Ever since he had come back he had felt lost. Unsure what to do and how to act. It was as if he was living in limbo. Finished with one mission but without the next one anywhere close. 
Or at least a mission he was comfortable with. 
“I mean I’m probably not the right person to talk to in the romance department.” Sam’s voice cut through Steve’s deep brooding, “Maybe Wanda or Clint? They have had… pretty stable relationships.” Sam sighed while taking a long sip of his coffee, “But what I use to tell people who were struggling with survivor's guilt was that it’s ok to move on. To find happiness.”
“I don’t have survivor's guilt…. I have: I can’t do what I think is right for her guilt.” 
“Why don’t you talk to her about it? Or don’t. Honestly I think this whole thing is kind of fucked.” Sam shrugged, “What kind of person requires two people to have a kid to save the world. I mean I know we have been through some crazy shit but… man this has got to take the cake.”  
-------------------
“Yo Soldier boy wait up!” 
Bucky froze turning to see Dixie running toward him. Big smile on her face as she waved her hand trying to flag him down. “Hey” 
“I was told you were the man to talk to about my moody baby daddy.”
“You’re baby daddy?” 
“Ok well more like future baby daddy, but I digress.” waving away her words Dixie took a few gulps of breath. She needed to get into better shape if she was going to be around all these hunky heroes. He had been barely jogging and trying to catch up with him made her feel like her lungs were about to shrivel up and die. 
“I’m assuming last night didn’t go well?”
“He left to get milk and never came back.”
“What?” Bucky wasn’t sure if she was joking or serious. To be honest, half the things she was saying to him didn’t make sense. Like he understood the words but he had a feeling the meanings were a bit beyond his scope. 
“Sorry, I tend to make jokes when I’m nervous…” Dixie sighed, kicking the toe of her shoe against the concrete. “What I mean is, like, what happened to him?” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Something happened during the battle, or maybe it was before? But he told me he wasn’t supposed to be here. What happened?” 
Bucky sighed, he could picture the conversation. Steve’s guilt for not being able to instantly love this woman he didn't know. Steve fighting with a heartbreak to the woman he had been in love with forever. This poor woman had walked into way more than she meant to and he honestly was slightly impressed she was still going. obviously trying to fix something that was way out of her league. 
“He told you that?” 
“Yeah. And I tried to ask him why but.” Dixie sighed looking away for a moment, trying to gather her words, “Look, normally I wouldn’t go behind someone’s back. I’m more of a head on kind of gal. But I’m desperate and I keep doing the wrong thing.” 
“It’s not you.” 
“Yeah I keep hearing that. But I’m the one stuck with the problem” 
“It’s not really my place but, give it time. Steve wants to do the right thing but sometimes, his head gets in the way.”
“Yeah I think I may have the opposite problem.” Dixie laughed, “I’m more just hit it until it starts working than turning it off and on again.”
“You keep saying english but I have no idea what you mean.” Bucky said trying to understand what ‘turn it off and on again’ meant. Was it a sex thing? 
“Oh sorry, I keep forgetting you aren’t from this time.  It’s kind of a computer reference,” 
“Ah,” Bucky nodded, looking the woman over. She wasn’t the type of girl he would have chosen for Steve. But then again he hadn’t really thought Peggy was Steve’s kind of girl either. Not that Dixie was much like Peggy. Sure they were both kind of hard headed but Dixie seemed to hide behind a thick layer of jokes while Peggy was honest and upfront. 
To be honest, Bucky had no idea how this would end. Besides the obvious kid. But a relationship between these two… it was anyone’s guess. 
And speaking of the other half of this unlikely couple. Steve was just slowly walking up to them. 
“Well look who it is.” Bucky said nodding toward his best friend. 
Dixie turns to see the tall blonde walking up. Dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. Something she didn’t know a super soldier could have, but I guess they are still human. If not a little less human. 
“Hey, Wanda said you would be out here.” 
Dixie smiled thinking about the small witch pushing Steve outside. She was more crafty then she was letting on. Dixie had a feeling they were going to be good friends. 
 “Can we talk?” he asked, glancing from Dixie to Bucky. His blue eyes lingers on Bucky for a moment. A silent question that Bucky only responded with a simple shrug. 
“I’m always here to talk.” Dixie said studying him. She seemed to be holding something back. But Steve was sure he would find out eventually. 
With a simple nod to Bucky they both walked back toward the compound. Before they entered Steve steered Dixie toward the large lake that their apartment overlooked. Slowly the two of them followed a path around the sparkling blue water. A few ducks playing in it’s refreshing embrace. 
They walked in silence for a few more moments. Steve is clearly struggling with what to say. So Dixie decided to speak first. 
“I just want to rush this and that’s not fair to you.”
“Is there someone you are going back to?” Steve paused, studying her. Trying to understand why she would want to rush this. Why she had been rushing everything.  
“No” it was a lie but… it also wasn’t the someone he was talking about. She didn’t feel guilty about it, but it also made her feel lonely. It reminded her -once again- that she was the one who was alone here. “I just… don’t belong here”
“You do…” he started to protest, his words dying moments after leaving his mouth. She held up a hand to stop him from trying to make her feel better. She didn’t belong here and that was fine. Her life was all about survival. His was all about helping others survive. She was under no pretense that this would ever be long term. 
She had just hoped it would be shorter term than it was turning out to be. 
“Dixie… It’s just that.” Steve sighed looking over at the small family of ducks that were swimming circles around the pond. All of them playing with each other just enjoying the sunshine. “I have always taken any problem I have faced head on. I am used to punching those in my way. Taking the problem and literally beating it away. I’m just not used to…”
“Making love to your problems.” 
That earned her a smile. A genuine smile. Dixie loved that smile. It reached his blue eyes and they would sparkle. There was compassion there and something deep inside that she loved creating. 
“In a way I guess so.” 
Dixie knew she was putting just as much pressure on Steve as he was putting on himself. She knew that in a way they were both pushing at something that couldn’t be pushed. One out of fear and one out of pain. 
But why were they pushing? 
“I guess they didn’t really give us a timeline, how about this. We just live together. Sleep together, like side by side no sex. Give it a month. And if it doesn’t come naturally after that we will re-evaluate what we need to do.” holding out her hand Dixie gave him a wide smile, “Deal?” 
Steve took her hand in his large rough one. As his thumb brushed against the top of her hand he noticed a long white scar. Maybe there was more to this woman than he realized. Maybe he just needed time to get to know her. To learn about her stories and scars. Just like she needed to learn about his. 
Maybe all they really needed was some time. 
“Deal.” 
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nev3rfound · 5 years
Text
the swan - chp.9 twisted
nurse, friend, lover, assassin. these are the titles you were known under in his head, something he never wished to share until rumours spread of the swan being out of retirement. 
overview / chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five / chapter six / chapter seven / chapter eight / chapter nine / chapter ten / chapter eleven /  chapter twelve (final chapter)
* masterlist of sorts *
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As Bucky walks through the compound your pleading voice echoes in his mind, the fear in your eyes as you focused on the camera as if you could see him. He could sense that threat, the horror that could happen if you step one toe out of line. Bucky knows it all to well, having lived it alongside you and dealt with the consequences countless times, but nothing quite like yours. 
Steve follows silently behind Bucky, seeing his shoulders tense tightly along with the metal plates of his arm whirring together. “Bucky, you gotta keep calm.” Steve tells Bucky, but he refuses to listen. 
All Bucky can think about is getting Rick, the sick lab rat who got power hungry. With each step Bucky can see him, the greasy man who witnessed you fall apart in Bucky’s arms. He can hear that laugh, the awful sound that sends a chill through his spine. Yet all he wants to do is snap him, have the last laugh. 
“Bucky.” Steve states sternly as the pair reach the front door. 
Standing still, Bucky lifts his head up and turns around to face his friend. “What Steve?” Bucky asks, exhaustion controlling his voice as pain lies heavily in his blue eyes. “What do you want me to say?” He raises his arms as he waits for his oldest friend to respond, but no words follow. “Thought as such.” He mutters under his breath before pushing the front door open, not expecting it to be held open. 
“I told you, Buck.” Steve comments as he walks alongside him toward one of the cars. “I’m with you til the end of the line, even if it’s doing something stupid.” A small smile cracks on the Captain’s face as he thinks back to the pair of them as children, so naive to the world they’d grow up in. 
“I can’t do this alone, Steve.” Bucky quietly admits as they stand on either side of the small red car. “Rick, the man controlling her, controlling Y/n,” Your name is one he still struggles to form after all this time. Before he could talk about you in passing, but now knowing you’re alive it feels wrong. You’re not who you were, but neither is Bucky. 
“It’s okay, Buck.” Steve tells his friend as he opens the car door and slides into the driver's seat. 
Bucky follows behind him, shutting the doors as the engine turns on. “Where to?” 
Staring straight ahead, Bucky tries to wrack his brain for anything, any kind of clue. “Try central park.” He tells Steve as the car begins to move. “He talked about it in there,” Bucky mutters to himself. “how he dreamed of having that freedom. Ironic, huh?” 
*
Sitting with your back leaning against the bed, you let out a soft sigh. Everything you dreamt about, tossed and turned during long nights and screamed about was happening. Bucky was back, your Bucky was alive but not as safe as you want him to be. 
You saw him sometimes when you were having hallucinations. A decade ago, Rick starved you in a chamber beneath Belgium. You were beginning to lose consciousness, slipping in and out of living when he appeared. Bucky sat down beside you, held you close and told you it’ll be okay. He helped you through your loneliest moments, even if it was all in your head. 
It wasn’t in your head anymore, he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. He was here, he is alive and you’re unsure if it’s a good thing or bad. “How you feeling?” Tony walks in, sitting down in front of you as he remains on the other side of the glass wall. 
“I’m doing swell, Tony.” You sarcastically mutter as you sit upright on the bed, wincing silently. “Has Bucky gone?” Your immediate thought, the one thing you need to be sure of. 
Tony nods to you, and you feel your shoulders easing as they sink. “He and Steve left a few hours ago, gone to find Rick.” Tony tells you slowly, hoping it won’t respond in an outburst. He knows that there is only so much the glass wall can take, and the outrage of a super serum charged person isn’t something it’s designed to take. 
“What?” You ask coldly as you begin to shake, fear bubbling under the surface of your skin as you feel the device behind your ear burning. “I, they, they can’t.” You plead with Tony. “He, he’ll kill them.” 
With all your might you rise to your feet, seeing black spots in your vision as you weakly step forward. It’s just like all those nights in your small office. The times you were beaten close to death, but you wanted to see the damage. Countless times you dragged your body across the room to the small mirror, you listened to the cracks and breaks of your bones becoming worse but you needed to see it. You needed to see what they were doing to you. 
Slowly, Tony stands up and moves closer to the glass. He watches as you fall to the ground with a thud. “Stop moving, Y/n.” He tells you, but you ignore him. 
You outstretch your hands, digging your nails into the floor as you slide your legs underneath you. With a muffled scream you stand up, leaning against the glass with wide eyes. “He’ll destroy them, Tony. And you’ll have no hope of stopping me.” You tell him bluntly, but his expression doesn’t shift. 
Stepping away, Tony returns to his chair. “Why is this Rick making you do all this, what are you getting in return?” Tony questions, his eyes not leaving you as you stumble back and fall on your tailbone. 
Sitting upright, you rest your hands in your lap. “Rick was the lab rat, the scum HYDRA tested.” You close your eyes, remembering what Rick had told you. “He wanted justice, justice for what every single person in HYDRA did. Anyone who was there, anyone who was associated needed to be brought down, tortured like he was.” 
Tony remains silent as a cold chill spreads through his body as you explain everything with no emotion. You’re simply repeating his words, an echo of who Rick is. 
“But why you?” Tony asks again, wanting the answers desperately as the clock by the camera ticks on. “What is it about you that he needs?”
You lift your head up, locking your gaze with his. “Because I’m their most elite assassin, their prized creation.” You scoff lightly. “And, and they stole everything from me, I, I lost my memories because of HYDRA.” Your voice softens, but you fight back the tears that form behind your eyes. “I don’t remember anything before HYDRA, an entire part of my life is gone. Rick he, he told me if I do this and complete my mission, he will help me get my memories.” 
“And you believed him?” Tony asks you bluntly. 
“What choice did I have?” Your voice begins to crack. “I knew nothing else. Anything I had was taken, wiped clean. All I know is Y/n when she isn’t the Swan. The version of me who isn’t ruthless, who wishes she knew how she can patch herself up with ease and wants to know who her family were.” The tears flow freely down your face as Tony rises to his feet. “I just want to be free, Tony Stark.” You tell him as you place your hand on the glass. 
Sitting in front of you, Tony rests his hand on the other side of the glass, mirroring yours. “We’ll make sure you’re free, Y/n.” Tony reassures you. “It’s a promise.” 
*
Walking into Central Park, Bucky’s eyes scan the grounds visible to him. He keeps his fists clenched tightly as anger pumps through his veins. “You go that way,” Bucky tells Steve, but Steve shakes his head.
“I’m not leaving your side, Bucky.” Steve sternly states. “Who knows what you’ll do if you’re left alone with the guy.” 
“I think you’ve got a solid idea what I’d do.” Bucky mutters under his breath as they begin to walk through the park, past families and couples all happy, those completely oblivious as to the evil that lurks. 
The pair walk further into the park, heading toward the neck of the pond. “You sure he’d be here?” Steve questions once again, only to receive a cold glance from Bucky as he silently walks on. 
Reaching the bridge, Bucky looks down to the rocks that lie beside the pond. Amongst the ripples in the water from the ducks that glide by, a shadow of a figure appears. “There.” Bucky nudges Steve, motioning discreetly to the spot. 
Cautiously, the soldiers climb down without drawing too much attention. They walk beneath the bridge where a pile of rocks rises. “Wondered when we’d meet again, Barnes.” His voice echoes with a sense of humour as he licks his lips, forming a wide grin.
“You son of a bitch.” Bucky mutters as Rick rises from his feet out of the shadows. His dark black hair still slicked down one side of his face exposing new scars Bucky hadn’t seen, but the one he remembered still visible from his hairline past his neck. 
Steve kept his eyes fixated on the man as he took a step forward, clapping his hands. “Good to see you too, soldier.” Rick holds his hand out, but Bucky keeps his fists clenched. “Cold greeting, fair enough.” Rick retracts his hand before sitting back down. “Honestly, I expected to be beaten to a bloody pulp by now.” He half laughs. 
“I’m not doing anything until you tell us how to stop it.” Bucky states, stepping forward.
Rick raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean, how to stop the Swan?” Rick asks innocently whilst his twisted smile remains etched on his face. “That’s easy, boys.” 
Bucky takes another step forward. “Well,” 
“You can’t.” Rick begins to laugh loudly, beginning to go into a state of hysterics. 
Bucky lunges forward, slamming Rick down on the rocks with force as he grunts, but his laughter still sounds. “Tell me!” Bucky yells in his face. “Tell me how to stop it, you tell me you lab rat!” 
Rick’s laughter dies down. “Well, there is one way. But I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Rick explains, and Bucky slowly eases his grip. “In order for Y/n to stop being the Swan, she has to complete her mission in order to receive her reward.” 
“And what’s that? When does she stop?” Steve questions, stepping forward alongside Bucky.
“She has to complete her last mission, to kill the only living member of HYDRA.” Rick states bluntly, simply motioning to Bucky. “Only then will she be free, and I can live out the rest of my life knowing justice has been served.” 
“You think this is justice? Having her kill everyone.” Bucky asks as anger rises in his tone. “You think she can live on after doing this, live a normal life?!”
Rick shakes his head. “Well of course not, Barnes.” He scoffs. “I told her she’ll get her memories back of everything before HYDRA. That’s the only reason she’s doing this.” Rick explains as he spits blood onto the rocks. “But I’m in control of her. And once she kills you, I’ll just make her kill herself.” 
“Serve full justice.” Steve mutters and Rick claps to himself.
“Finally, someone who gets it!” He excitedly states. 
“After all this time, you’ve just lied to her to get what you want?” Bucky mutters softly, pain wrapping itself around his heart, slowly cutting into it. 
Shrugging his shoulders, Rick places his hands in his pockets. “How else was I supposed to get this far?” He questions to the two men. “Besides, all I have to do is flick the switch and she’ll become the Swan, just like that.” Rick clicks his fingers and laughs lightly. 
Bucky cannot control it. The sound of Steve’s yells to stop are drowned out as Bucky holds Rick down against the rocks. He punches him, slams his head against the rocks until he sees blood pouring. Yet all the time as the cuts emerge, the life drains out of his body, Rick keeps a smile on his face. 
“You, you didn’t think I expected this?” Rick coughs. “I always have a backup plan.” 
Fear fills Bucky’s eyes as he glances down to see Rick weakly holding a remote, pressing a button before letting it slide down into the pond. 
“What did you do?” Bucky yells into his face. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” 
Rick forces a laugh as he remains breathless, wheezing now. “Set her to do kill herself. By ending herself, she, she’ll end you.” 
“No, no.” Bucky stutters, looking back at Steve as tears fill his eyes. 
“She’ll be dead in ten minutes.” Rick states. 
Bucky turns back to face Rick and lifts him up one final time. “I won’t let that happen.” He slams his head down against the rock with all his force and listens to the crack. 
Rising to his feet, Bucky wipes the blood from his face and begins to walk away. “Do what you have to, I can’t lose her.” 
taglist (thank you for the endless support on this series)
@callie-bear15 @vgirl10123 @markusstraya @krystallynx @toxic-pineapple @not-jarred-padaleki@tearsforhan@worldofchoices@hungrymango @puppetofyourdreams @alisa-m-a @musingsofafangirlblog @alecswcrlock@mywinterwolf@galacticstxrdust@jamesvaldezzzz @letmereid @i-lost-my-shoe-down-a-drain @bluediamondsevie @i-just-wanna-run-hell@ispepeagain
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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years
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A Good Night’s Sleep, Pt.2
Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky finally gets you out on a date and you both find yourselves falling fast.
Warnings/ Content: nothing in this one, just witty banter and flirting.
Word Count: 3.6k
Author’s Note: Hello lovelies, here’s part two as promised. Part three is coming as soon as this is up. Tagging the amazing @marinaaniseed as this series was born of her idea :) 
You can read part one HERE if you missed it. XOXO - Ash
A Good Night’s Sleep, Part Two
Even with Tony Stark’s connection it takes a week to get a table at Sapori. Bucky hates the idea of waiting that long to see you again but is appeased by intermittent bursts of texts. He’s noticed you get lost in your work for hours at a time and then will do nothing but text back and forth with him for a while until you get distracted and lost in your work again. It’s sweet how much you love what you do and Bucky makes a point to read a few of your works. He’s impressed by the way you illustrate details in your writing, the way it makes him feel like he’s experiencing things for himself through your words. You screech happily to your cat when Bucky tells you that and you reply that it was the best compliment you’ve ever received. 
The night of your date you pull out all of the stops, your best jeans and blouse that are just suggestive enough while still being classy. You let your hair dry naturally, letting it do it’s thing creating natural waves. Your makeup is minimal but you choose a dark, bold pink that makes your lips pop, emphasizing their size. It helps play off the way the jet black mascara makes your eyes seem a little larger too. You give yourself an appraising once over and decide that Bucky Barnes isn’t going to know what hit him.  
Across town, Bucky can’t get his life together. Or so Sam says while he and Steve chuckle at Bucky’s growing distress. “Be serious guys!” he complains at his so-called best friends. Bucky is wearing his nicest black jeans and is holding out two sweaters, one pale blue and one charcoal grey, at them to help decide.
“Grey.” Steve chooses finally.
“With your black leather jacket.” Sam adds. 
Bucky lets out an exasperated thank you, relieved they finally helped.
He pulls on the sweater and approves of the way it brings out the grey in his eyes. His hair is left down and it curls around his shoulders in a way he hopes looks artful instead of messy. There’s just enough time to grab his shoes and get out the door and he hurries past Sam and Steve with a more heartfelt thank you thrown in this time.
The lobby of Sapori is packed when you arrive. You’re fifteen minutes early, you found an Uber faster than you had expected, and you don’t feel like waiting outside for that long until Bucky arrives. Instead, you shoot him a text that you’re there and you’ll be waiting at the bar. You’re past the point in your life where you look at alcohol as liquid courage but it would be nice to have a drink to unwind a little while you wait. You flag down the bartender and order your usual drink, chuckling to yourself softly when you realize the irony of it. Bucky should get a kick out of it too.
After rushing past an obscene number of slow moving pedestrians, Bucky needs a minute before entering the dimly lit restaurant. He’s sure he’s sweating right through his clothes and his hair is sticking slightly at the nape of neck. The sweat isn’t from exertion, it’s just nerves. The man who took on HYDRA is petrified of sharing dinner with a beautiful woman. Oh how the mighty have fallen, he berates himself. Smoothing out his clothes and fixing his hair one last time, Bucky takes a deep breath and pushes through the revolving door. 
It takes his eyes a minute to adjust to the low lighting but once they do, he’s searching for you immediately. He finds you standing at a hightop table by the bar, a lowball glass in your hand, reading something intently on your phone. Bucky freezes as he takes you in; you’re stunning and he suddenly feels like a schlub. Your dark jeans are molded perfectly to your body, emphasizing the curves of your ass and thighs. The cream colored blouse drapes around you like gossamer, highlighting your figure without being clingy, the neckline low enough that it promises a hint of cleavage if you move just right. And god help him, Bucky prays you move just right at some point this evening. 
“What are you drinking?” Bucky asks when he finally approaches you.
You look up at him, pleasantly surprised to see him a few minutes early. “An old fashioned.” you say with a smirk.
Bucky chokes out a laugh. He can’t keep up with your wit, always unsure if you’re joking or serious. “You like old fashioneds, huh?”
Your smirk widens, “They’re my go-to drink. Though they seem a little extra appropriate now.” 
“Well, even as a living antique, I can honestly say I’ve never tried one.” 
“You’re missing out, old man. Let’s go fix that.” You step over to the bar, signaling the bartender who comes down and with a second drink for you. You hand over the glass to Bucky, anticipation written on your face. If he hates it you won’t mind drinking another but you’ll have to pace yourself. 
Bucky sips the drink, realizing it’s just whiskey with a little sugar and a sliver of orange. It’s mostly whiskey though. “It’s good. Not sure what’s old fashioned about whiskey, but it’ll do.” 
“They’re actually older than you. Back in the late 1800s the only cocktails were sugar, bitters, and a dash of water added to some type of brown liquor. As the times changed, newer more elaborate cocktails were invented and the varieties were endless after that. The older generation didn’t care for the new cocktails going around so they would order an old fashioned cocktail, the kind they were used to. After a while the name stuck and now we have old fashioneds.” 
Bucky stared at you, amazed. 
“And thank you for coming to my TED Talk.” you say with a self deprecating laugh. 
“Sorry. I’m just. I’m impressed is all.” Bucky makes a mental note to Google what a TED Talk is later. He knows you’re making light of your knowledge but it was damn impressive to him. 
“Nah, I just took a mixology class a few times for fun. I can also make a mean s’mores martini.” 
“You’ll have to show me sometime.” Bucky checks his watch and realizes you’re now five minutes late for your reservation, “Ready to go eat? I should at least let them know we’re here.” 
“Yeah, let’s go.” 
Bucky leads the way, the crowd clearing for him naturally due to either his height or the width of his black leather clad shoulders. He’s an impressive specimen of man and you’re still a little floored that he’s here with you. Talking to him has been so easy, almost like old friends, and you forget most of the time that he’s not just a cute guy you met at a coffee shop, he’s Bucky Barnes: super soldier, former assassin, current Avenger.  
The maitre d’ shows you to your table, a secluded little spot in the back, and Bucky adds thank Tony Stark to his mental to-do list. The table is far enough removed from the rest of the main dining room that he won’t feel overwhelmed by the large number of people, his back is to a wall and his sightlines are clear. He couldn’t have picked a better table himself and it helps his nerves relax just a little bit more. Bucky wants the date to go well but part of him, the part his therapist keeps telling him to not validate, reminds him it’s only a matter of time until he screws something up. 
A tall, thin, man in a well pressed uniform arrives a moment later, before Bucky can even try to rekindle your conversation. He deposits a basket of warm fresh bread and fills your water glasses from a carafe. After reciting the specials of the day he disappears as quickly as he arrived. 
“We’ll have to get another basket of this when he comes back.” Bucky tells you while taking two thick slices out of the basket. He layers on the butter, careful to leave you half but still enjoying himself immensely. “They make the bread and the butter themselves” he says with a dreamy smile.
You laugh lightly, taking a piece for yourself, “You really love it here, don’t you?”
Bucky nods, taking a bite of his bread.
You scan the menu while you chew. Bucky was right, you’re definitely going to need more of the bread, it’s incredible. The menu is simple and filled with long standing Italian classics. You’re tempted by the gnocchi since Bucky spoke so highly of it, but the chicken picata sounds good too. You tell Bucky as much when he asks what you’re going to have and he laughs. “Just get both, that’s what I do.” 
You shake your head, “Yes, but you can eat two entrees. I can’t.” 
“That’s what leftovers are for. Come on, get both. Tonight’s on Tony’s dime anyway, he owed me.” 
“Tony Stark owed you dinner at Sapori?” you ask in disbelief.
“No, he owed me a favor, period. He’d be down another Iron Man suit if it wasn’t for me. A dinner out is a lot less money and hassle than a new suit, so don’t feel too bad for him.”
You stare at him a moment, his life is so surreal. “Okay, fine. Two entrees it is. Thank you, Mr. Stark.” you raise your glass in salute before taking a sip.
“Now, how do you feel about appetizers?” Bucky asks, flipping through his menu. 
If the waiter is shocked by the mass quantity of food you’ve ordered he hides it well. You’re looking forward to trying a little of everything and having days worth of leftovers to enjoy. Bucky is working his way through the second breadbasket when the waiter deposits your appetizer, a large platter of fritta. It’s a mix of vegetables and seafood, all deep fried in a light, crispy batter. Various little pots of sauces are set around the platter, enticing you to try the different combinations.
Bucky is the perfect dinner companion. He is always willing to share bits of this and that, able to keep an interesting conversation going, and the quiet lulls feel natural instead of awkward. You learn about his childhood and family, about all the things he’s enjoyed since coming out of Cryo, and the the things he still wants to do with his life. Bucky’s approach to life is this irreverent enthusiasm that you can’t help but get swept up in. Yes, he’s lived through unspeakable horrors, but he’s not letting it define him and you admire him more than words can say. He’s also an engaged listener, asking you questions about your life and your job as a writer. The fact that he took the time to read some of your work still blows your mind and you can’t hide the way a blush spreads from your cheeks all the way down your throat when he starts talking excitedly about an article you wrote on the impact of social media on mental health. 
By the time the waiter brings the check you’re both still picking at the remnants of your tiramisu, unwilling for the night to end. There’s a heaviness to the air that wasn’t there before, brought on by the impending goodbye. You don’t ever go home with a guy on the first date, nor do you invite them back to your place. You don’t see anything wrong with it, you just never felt compelled to rush into bed with a guy. Until now. But Bucky isn’t a modern man, and he likely won’t even think to initiate anything beyond a goodnight kiss. You wish he would though. 
The conversation had shifted to one of Bucky’s many loves: engineering. He is endlessly fascinated by the robots in the Stark lab. Tony insists they’re just hunks of junk but Bucky still makes trips up to the lab to visit them; teaching them to make different types of smoothies and how to play catch with him. Bucky is trying to keep the conversation going, not willing to say goodbye just yet. He wants the night to stretch on forever, a perfect idyllic bubble where he can laugh and relax with someone who understands him. You’re the first person he feels like he can open up to in over seventy years. 
“Why don’t you come back to the tower with me and see for yourself?” he offers after you laugh and question his story about teaching Dum-E how to dance. 
You pause, fork halfway up to your mouth, wondering what his intentions are.
“You could meet Dum-E and then I could show you the night sky projector I was telling you about.” 
“The one on your bedroom ceiling?” you ask, fork still in mid-air.
“Yeah, from the planetarium.” 
Oh Bucky Barnes, sweet innocent nerd that he is. You’re fairly certain the offer is benign but you can’t resist riling him up a little. “Bucky, are you inviting me back to your bedroom to see your projector, or see your projector?” You raise your eyebrows suggestively, hitting your point home.
Bucky chokes on his sip of cappuccino, cheeks flaming red. “Oh. I didn’t. I wasn’t thinking. I would never assume.” he fumbles, helplessly. “That really came out wrong, didn’t it?” he asks finally, exasperated with himself. 
Your grin is broad and understanding. “It’s okay.” you reassure him. “I didn’t think you meant it that way. And I don’t typically go home with a guy on the first date either. But honestly, after tonight, if something were to happen I wouldn’t mind at all.” 
Bucky swallows nervously. Once. Twice. Get it together Barnes!  He clears his throat roughly before responding with a voice he’s proud doesn’t waiver, “Well then let’s head back and see where the night takes us.” 
You never thought he’d have the nerve. Hallelujah for his new found confidence. “Let’s.” you agree. 
Bucky leads the way back to the tower he calls home. It’s a short walk, only a few blocks away, and you take your time, discussing the differences between modern Manhattan and the New York Bucky grew up in. The Avengers Tower, formerly Stark Tower, rises up from the concrete like a monolith, looming over the rest of the buildings on the block. You never expected to see the inside of it and as Bucky activates a body scan from the access panel you’re more than a little nervous. The scan runs quickly and a warm British voice announces, “Welcome back, Mr. Barnes. I see you’ve brought a guest.” 
“That’s Jarvis,” Bucky explains, “Took me a while to get used to him, but he pretty much runs everything here at the tower. Jarvis, this is Y/N. She’ll be with me but give her basic clearance just to be safe.”
“Can do, sir.” Jarvis replies, seemingly all around you. “Miss, if you could please hold still I will run a biometric scan for your clearance.” 
You’re not sure where to speak, looking upwards out of instinct, “Okay, sure.”  The beam runs from your head down to your toes just like it did for Bucky and you do your best to hold still. Bucky is smirking and you’re sure he understands how odd the advanced tech is to you.
“All set, Miss. You will have basic access to the common rooms, main door, and I’ve added Mr. Barnes’ private quarters as well.” 
“Thanks Jarvis.” Bucky says before holding his hand back out to you, “Ready to go meet my robotic friends?”
You laugh lightly, “Sure, why not.” 
Bucky leads you up to Stark’s lab where Dum-E and U are busy tidying up bits of charred shrapnel from the floor. “Hey guys!” Bucky calls out as soon as you’re in the lab. The pair of silver robots abandon their dustpan and broom, hurrying over to Bucky. They’re making excited whirring sounds with their gears and you assume this means they’re happy to see him. “Now fellas, I brought a friend to meet you.” he tells them, and both robots turn their top arm pieces in your direction. It’s odd that you feel like you’re being inspected even though they don’t have eyes or faces. “Her name is Y/N and I expect you two to be on your best behavior.” 
“Hi guys.” you say with a small wave. 
The robot on your right, U, comes over, the top (or end?) of it’s long arm reaching out as if to shake. You look at Bucky questioningly and he nods. You’re not sure what to expect as you reach out towards the robot but it quickly takes your hand between it’s three metal flaps, moving it up and down rapidly as if to shake it. You can’t help but be charmed by the polite little robot. It makes a few tinny sounds and you say “It’s very nice to meet you too.” hoping you’ve guessed it’s intentions correctly. It’s whirring noises start up again and it rolls away quickly, it seems happy enough with your response. The other robot, Dum-E, rolls over to repeat the awkward shake and makes a similar series of noises after you greet him. 
Bucky is grinning ear to ear watching you. It means a lot to him that you’re willing to entertain his love of robotics and the two little guys he’s grown so attached to. “How about we show Y/N what we were working on last week?” he asks them and both robots raise and lower their arm piece as if to nod. Bucky whips out his phone, bringing up a song to put on, and then sets it up so that music plays from the speakers in the lab. The clear, ringing voice of Ella Fitzgerald fills the room declaring “It don’t mean a thing if you ain’t got that swing”. 
Bucky extends a hand to Dum-E who takes it with his little flaps like he had your hand. Fast and graceful Bucky spins the robot around the lab with him in perfectly timed swing dance steps. You’ve seen swing dancing before but never in person and certainly never with a robot. Dum-E does well keeping up with Bucky and halfway through the song U rolls over to butt in and takes Dum-E’s place. You’re amazed by the show, the way Bucky moves is so alive and joyous. You could easily watch him for hours. Being a clumsy child you doubt you could ever be an adequate dance partner for him but you wonder if you could learn enough for him to take you for a spin around the room. Maybe he would even teach you. It hits you that you’re already planning future dates, far into the future possibly. It’s foolish, you’re not even finished your first official date yet, but it’s going well and you can’t deny the connection you feel with him.
The song ends, Ella’s voice trilling off into silence, and Bucky gives you a cock bow. You clap for him and U who whirrs happily at the praise. “What do you think?” Bucky asks you as he crosses the room to your side. 
“Very impressive. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” you tell him.
“It was easier than you’d think too. The guys really enjoy the classics and I missed dancing so it works out great. Do you swing?”
“Oh god no! I was one of those kids who tripped on their own two feet. Never tried learning anything more complicated than following a guy’s lead at slow dancing in the middle school auditorium.” 
“I think you’d be a natural. You just have to move with the music.” 
“No, really. I’ve fallen walking up the stairs, Bucky. I’d break your toes.” 
“Pfft. You couldn’t so much as dent my pinky toe. But if you don’t wanna learn that’s okay too.” 
He looks so earnest and unsure that it’s your undoing. “Okay, maybe some other time you can try to teach me. But if you lose a toe it’s your own fault.” 
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, doll.” He hits you with that megawatt smile and your knees turn to jelly. Damn him and that impossible charm that seems to seep from every pore. You’re no match for it and you suspect he knows it. Bucky takes your hands in his, tugging you close until your toes are almost touching his. That heaviness has returned to the air, like walking into a sauna. “You ready to go see the night sky projector?” 
You chance a look up at his face again and you’re amazed you’re still upright at this point. “Yeah, take me to your room now.” Your voice is low and Bucky has to steady himself a minute before leading the way down to the living quarters. It’s obvious the dance you two are doing now. He’s not sure if he’s ready to be intimate with you, or anyone really. Despite months of therapy Bucky’s still insecure about the scars that litter his body. He can barely stand looking at them himself, he can’t imagine it would be any easier for a stranger. But a part of him woke up when he met you in the coffee shop, and it’s only gained strength after a week of frequent texting and a so far perfect date. Bucky isn’t sure he could silence it now if he wanted to. A tiny spark has flared into a wildfire and all Bucky can do now is let it burn.
Read part three HERE!
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Just Into You (Four)
In which the boys get very drunk, kisses happen because sometimes bros just kiss, right? Sleepy cuddles and invitations to weddings and then Steve has a flash of Gay Panic and ruins everything. 
(Also, oh hey look, there’s like six chapters now. No one is surprised, right?) 
MASTERLIST HERE
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Steve was drunk.
And not even ‘sort of drunk because he’s been sipping on beer all night’ or ‘delightfully buzzed while watching a movie’. 
No this was ‘Tony had been gifted a very expensive bottle of whiskey as a ten year gift from his boss and they’d drank it all in one go’ drunk and it was fun.
Tony was nearly screaming with laughter over whichever stand up special was on Netflix and Steve was stumbling his way back from the bathroom, slipping and sliding his way to sit on the floor in front of the couch, grabbing handfuls of popcorn and cramming him in his mouth because good god did being this drunk give him the munchies.
“He looks like a fifties radio announcer!” Tony hiccuped over his own handful of popcorn and dissolved into giggles. “Look at him! Look at his legs! Is he high kicking? He is ridiculous!” 
“You’re ridiculous.” Steve informed him. “Laughing this hard over a stand up comedian? You’re thirty, Tony, not fourteen.” 
“Says the guy who can’t hold his liquor.” Tony snarked back. “You walked into a wall trying to find the bathroom!” 
“There’s alot of walls in this place!” Steve protested. “I couldn’t tell which one was the door!” 
Tony’s jaw almost hit the floor and Steve just knew Tony’s mind was racing trying to figure out exactly which comeback to pull up for that little comment and it was sure to be simply scathing because over the past six weeks Steve had come to realize that Tony’s wit was nearly lethal, more so when he was drunk.  
And not wanting to be at the receiving end of sass that would ring in the back of his mind for weeks, Steve did the only thing his drunk mind figured out would keep Tony from saying anything. 
He leaned in and kissed him. 
There. That should shut him up. 
Except-- 
“Steve.” No one had ever said Steve’s name like that before, not sounding like a moan and maybe a prayer, not while grabbing at him and yanking him forward and Steve was just drunk enough to forget that most friends probably didn’t kiss like this. 
Okay, most friends definitely didn’t kiss like this, but Steve didn’t really care. Tony’s mouth was wonderful, warm and pliant and tasting like butter and whiskey and he lay back on the floor so easily Steve couldn’t help stretching out over him. 
It reminded him of his dream a few weeks ago, a dream that had yet to fade in intensity even though nothing at all had changed between them. Tony was still hilarious and sweet and Steve hadn’t let his panic over the dream ruin anything and things were fine but Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d been here before, grinding against each other and sharing kisses and whispering each others names--
“Oh my god, why did it take you so long to kiss me?” Tony mumbled. “I thought you’d at least kiss me last time you spent the night--” Steve took a chance and dipped his tongue between Tony’s lips and Tony gasped. “-- but ohh this is okay. This is good, yes yes yes--” 
“You talk so much.” Steve complained, not quite remembering when he’d gotten a hold of Tony’s ass but not willing to let the opportunity go to waste without giving it a good grope. “Stop talking.” 
“Give me something else to do with my mouth then.” Tony suggested and that was the last thing either of them said for a while. 
Unfortunately, too much whiskey didn’t make for very sexy times and despite Steve’s fairly shocking revelation that he’d very much like to see Tony naked and despite their stumbling, handsy, trek to the bedroom to collapse onto Tony’s bed, nothing else happened besides sloppy greedy kisses and roaming hands that eventually slowed as the temptation of warm covers and soft pillows became more important. 
“Okay next time you kiss me we need to not be drunk.” Tony slurred into Steve’s shoulder and Steve didn’t know if he nodded or not, the room was spinning and his vision was starting to black out so he just wrapped his arms around Tony and burrowed in close and fell asleep. 
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“I wasn’t joking, you know.” 
Christ the morning sun was terrible and Steve shoved his face into a pillow to hide from it. 
“How are you awake?” he groaned and somewhere to the side of him, Tony laughed. “How are you even talking? We drank so much last night and--” 
“I wasn’t joking.” Tony interrupted and when Steve risked a peek at him, Tony’s eyes were shining and his mouth curved in a shy, coaxing smile. “When I said you should give me something better to do with my mouth.”
“When I said--” 
“You wanna try it?” Tony’s fingers inched towards the covers like he was going to pull them down. “Hm? Something tells me you haven’t done anything like this before but I promise I’ll be a good teacher. Leading by example and all that? Show and tell? I know you like my mouth, you must have said it a thousand times last night. Let me give you another reason to like it.” 
Tony was talking way too fast and Steve was way too hungover to even try to figure out what was happening. Something about his mouth? And why was Tony pulling the blankets down? Oh god my head hurts so bad. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking--.” Steve started to sit up but everything tilted and then spun and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Nope, hold that thought. I’m gonna be sick.” 
“Oh god, definitely do not be sick in my blankets.” Tony kicked Steve right out of bed, pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and called, “Oh and don’t walk into any walls! I know you have a hard time telling them apart from doors!” 
Steve was too busy throwing up to respond, but he could hear Tony laughing from the bedroom. 
By the time he dragged himself away from the toilet and into a long shower, out of the shower after the water ran cold and back into his jeans from the night before Steve at least felt human and the smell of coffee from the kitchen made it even better. 
“Oh my god, I could marry you for this.” He managed as Tony pushed a steaming mug towards him. “Thank you.” 
“It’s frankly adorable how hung over you are.” Tony announced, sounding fresh as a daisy and sounding just as sweet, sitting on the counter and swinging his legs idly. “And just this once, I won’t be mad about you interrupting my morning plans. No one wants that sort of thing when they’re trying to vomit their soul into a toilet bowl.” 
“Cheers.” Steve grimaced. “Thank you for that lovely image. Am I really interrupting your morning plans though? Sorry about that, I can go.” 
Tony laughed again and not for the first time, Steve felt like he was missing a joke. “Steve, my morning plans all involve you. Don’t go anywhere. Please.” 
“Oh.” The sip of coffee did nothing for his headache but Steve still sighed as it warmed him from the inside out. “That’s sweet of you, thanks.” 
“It’s also adorable how you play so oblivious.” Tony hopped off the counter and smecked a soft kiss to Steve’s cheek. “I guess I’ll have to be more direct if I’m going to break you of that habit, hm? It’s sweet and all but eventually we’ll have to actually talk about what’s going on.” 
“Talk. Right.” Steve didn’t know what Tony wanted to talk about and he could only hope it wasn’t about something stupid he’d done last--
“I love your mouth Tony, you taste so good.” 
“Yeah? I bet you’d love it somewhere else too.”
Steve froze, his eyes bugging out. Had he and Tony-- no. No that would be crazy. But Tony had kissed him on the cheek this morning? But that-- that could be anything. Tony had kissed the barista on the cheek just the other day for giving him sprinkles on his mocha. That didn’t mean anything. 
Besides, if they’d done anything inappropriate Tony would call him out for it, right? Friends didn’t let friends get grabby when they were drunk, that was just rude. Granted, Steve tended to get handsy when he was drinking with girls but never beyond anything they encouraged and Tony wouldn’t have encouraged anything. A little snuggle maybe, but they always snuggled. Tony was a cuddly guy, it was fine. Had Steve gotten a little grabby when they cuddled? OH NO was that was Tony wanted to talk about? OH NO OH NO OH NO STEVE DIDN’T REMEMBER WHAT HE’D DONE AND NOW TONY WAS MAD AND--
“Hey.” Tony popped his head back into the kitchen and Steve desperately tried to reel himself back from his spiraling thoughts. “Hey wow, you look like you’re panicking. Don’t panic. We can talk when you aren’t dying from a hangover okay? There’s no rush.” 
“Oh.” Steve blew out a deep breath. “Thank you.” 
“I know this is--” Tony hesitated. “It’s different, right? But it’s fine. This is fine, okay? We can take our time and figure it out.” 
“...okay?” 
“Okay. Okay so listen,” now Tony looked unsure, biting at his lip nervously. “So I know I just said we can take our time, but all the same um, my cousin Sharon is getting married tomorrow evening and I know this is super late notice but back when I RSVP’d I was with Ty so they are counting on me having a plus one and I thought if you’d like to go...” he let the words trail off, his cheeks staining red. 
“I know we’ve only known each other like six weeks, but I’d like to introduce you to my family. If you think you’d like that too. If you’re ready.” 
“I’d love to meet your family.” Steve said honestly and Tony practically beamed at him. “You should meet mine too. Or at least Sam. We’ve hung out every single day, it’s about time the rest of our lives start mixing, right?” 
“Right!” Tony’s smile was nearing mega watt status. “That’s exactly what I thought! So you’ll go with me?” 
“Of course.” Steve refilled his coffee and topped Tony’s cup up too. “I dunno why you looked nervous to ask me that. It’s not a big deal Tony. I’d love to meet your family. I’m sure they are all wonderful.” 
“Thank you.” Tony darted forward and gave him another kiss on the cheek, lingering long enough that Steve wondered if he was expecting a kiss back. 
Which is stupid, right? 
“I love weddings.” he said when Tony stepped away. “Everyone’s always happy, the foods great, it’s super romantic. Should be fun.” 
“Should be fun.” Tony repeated in excitement. “I can’t wait.” 
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The wedding was beautiful in a lavish sort of way that loudly announced the groom had had no say whatsoever in the decorations. Flowers and tulle, lace and doilies, lights and sparkles in the centerpieces. A string quartet instead of a band, nine bridesmaids and three flower girls, varying shades of pink and three tier cake dusted in gold. 
Lavish. 
The ceremony was formal and grandiose and Steve caught Tony rolling his eyes more than once which made him feel better about being a little meh about all the pomp and circumstance, and despite feeling fairly uncomfortable in his suit and tie, Steve managed to have a good time. 
Or at least, he had a good time for exactly an hour and twenty five minutes, which was how long it took for the ceremony to finish, for everyone to move into the next ballroom for the reception, and for Tony to introduce him to his very favorite aunt.  
“Auntie!” Tony waved to an older woman decked out in a bright red dress and dragged Steve over. “Auntie, Sharon will kill you for wearing this color to her wedding.” 
“Oh please.” The woman sniffed at him. “I raised the girl, I’ll wear whatever I want to her wedding. I’m eighty five years old, Tony. No one tells me what to wear.” 
“Of course not.” Tony bent down to kiss her hello. “Auntie, this is the guy I’ve been telling you about. Steve, this is my Auntie Peggy. Peggy, this is Steve.” 
“How nice to finally meet you.” Peggy shook Steve’s hand. “Tony has been telling me all about you, he failed to mention you were a giant though. All around big boy, aren’t you?” 
“Auntie!” Tony sounded scandalized and Peggy laughed at him. “I’m going to get us some champagne. Please don’t scare him away. I like this one!”
“So.” the moment Tony disappeared, Peggy squinted up at Steve. “My nephew likes you quite alot if our phone conversations are anything to go by. Are you treating him right? The last boyfriend Tiberius was simply awful. I was nervous when Tony told me he started dating someone right away, I hope you aren’t setting out to break his heart. Do you care about him as much as he cares about you?” 
“I-- I--” Steve gaped down at her, just as thrown by the attitude from the tiny woman as he was by what she’d said. “No ma’am. I mean, yes ma’am I’m being nice to him. But no ma’am, Tony and I aren’t dating.” 
“You aren’t dating.” she repeated. “You don’t have to lie to me, young man. I might be old but I’m not stupid. I have no problem with my nephew liking boys, don’t be nervous about that sort of thing.” 
“No I mean--” Steve was scrambling, trying to find the right words, his mouth moving before he took the time to respond correctly or at the very least, tactfully. “No I mean we aren’t dating. Tony and I are just friends. Just friends. Not dating. I’m not-- I’m not into guys. I like Tony alot, but I’m not-- I don’t-- I’m not like that. Not gay. I’m not gay.” 
“Not gay.” Peggy pursed her lips. “Are you sure?” 
Panic. Sheer panic. A wedding is not the right place to have a crisis like this. What the hell is going on?
“Absolutely sure.” he said loudly, probably too loudly and too quickly because all of the sudden Steve wasn’t sure about anything at all. “Tony and I are just friends. Nothing more. There’s nothing else going on. I’m not into guys.” 
“Oh dear.” Peggy’s gaze shifted behind Steve and she clicked her tongue. “Oh no.” 
“Oh--” Steve turned around to see Tony right behind him, face very pale and eyes very wide. “Tony. I um-- Oh shit. I didn’t mean to--” 
Tony set the champagne down on a nearby table and walked right past Steve, right past Peggy, and right out the door. 
********************
SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!
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