#tony stark x female!reader

[just-dreaming-marvel]

I Won't Say (I'm In Love) ~ Tony's Version

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / MUSICAL INSPIRED FIC MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,215ish

Request: Won't Say from Hercules + Natasha is quite sure Tony and reader are in love with each other, but she's after more info so she can try and work out a plan to get them together. She's managed to get a confession out of Tony. Now she's trying to get her best friend to confess, maybe during a girl's night in movie night along with Wanda. But she's stubborn as fuck. But so is Nat, and she ain't ending this night without the info she wants!

Notes: I hope this makes sense... I'm a little worried especially since I steered away from the request a bit.

“If there’s a prize for rotten judgement

I guess I’ve already won that

No man is worth the aggravation

That’s ancient history, been there, done that”

You sighed as you came home from yet another failed date. Another man who cared more about you being a housewife than a working Avenger. You carried your shoes in your hand as you made your way to the common room of the Compound for a drink.

“You alright?” Tony’s voice had you jumping.

“Tony!” You exclaimed. He was sitting on the couch, nursing his own drink. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he shot you a smile. “But seriously, you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just another failed attempt at dating.” You grabbed a beer from the fridge before plopping down next to Tony on the couch. “I’m beginning to think it’s not worth it anymore.”

“What? Dating?”

“Yeah. Searching for someone to spend your life with. They either are awful straight from the start or they hook you in and break your heart once you’re fully committed… I think I’ll stick to being single.”

“Not everyone is like that. You just have to find the right one.” Tony stood up. “Don’t drink too much of my liquor worrying about it.” He leaned down and kissed your head. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Tones.”

You sighed as Tony disappeared down the hall. You hated the reason behind your insistence on going on dates. Anthony Edward Stark. He was your type. Similar to guys you’ve dated before. Which is why you’d never admit to your feelings for him. You would just get hurt if you did. Tony wasn’t the type for a serious relationship, at least not anymore. He made that very clear since his and Pepper’s break up where he was back to sleeping around with any woman who looked at him a certain way. You couldn’t let yourself be one of them, knowing that you couldn’t keep your feelings in check.

~~~

Natasha woke up at her usual time to work out, surprised to see that Tony was already in the gym, a sweaty mess.

“Hard night?” She questioned, coming over to where the man was running on the treadmill.

“Something like that,” he grumbled, focusing on his running.

“Did Y/N go on another date last night?” Tony didn’t bother answering that question. “You know that there’s an easy solution to this. Just ask her out.”

“Natasha—“

“She’ll say yes.”

“You don’t know that.”

Natasha stepped onto the front of the treadmill to be face to face with the billionaire. “And if I find out it’s true, will you ask her out?”

“Maybe.”

“Great.” She jumped off the treadmill and headed for the door.

“Wait.” He paused the treadmill and jumped off it. “Where are you going?”

“To gather the evidence I need to stop you guys from being idiots any longer.”

“Who’d you think you’re kidding?

He’s the earth and heaven to you

Try to keep it hidden

Honey, we can see right through you (oh, no)

Girl, you can’t conceal it

We know how you feel and who you’re thinking of (oh)”

You were sitting on the couch in the common room, various teammates around. Vision was talking about something that you had stopped listening to some time ago. Your focus was on Tony. He was standing in the kitchen area, preparing a cup of coffee while talking to Bruce.

Natasha caught you staring and rolled her eyes. She tapped your arm, causing you to look her way, before she motioned to the hallway with her head. You knew that if she wanted to talk, there was no avoiding her. You followed her into one of the conference rooms down the hallway.

“What’s up?” You asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Natasha leaned against the large glass conference table, arms folded over her chest. “Can you make it more obvious?”

“What are you talking about, Nat?”

“The fact that you’re head over heels in love with Tony.”

“No chance, no way

I won’t say it, no, no

You swoon, you sigh

Why deny it? Oh-oh

It’s too cliche (oh)

I won’t say I’m in love (shoo-doop, shoo-doop)

(Ooh)”

Your heart dropped at Natasha’s statement. “Wh—What? No, I’m not.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Your eyes were practically in the shape of hearts.”

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about, Nat. Tony is my friend. That is all.”

“You’re really going to try to lie to me?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Okay, I see how it is.” Natasha stood up and went to the door. “You know, keeping your feelings inside will only hurt you both more, right?”

“I’ve been hurt too many times, Nat. I can’t do it again. With anyone. No more dates for me. I’m good with being all by myself.”

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson (ooh)

It feel so good when you start out (ooh)

My head is screaming, ‘get a grip, girl!” (Ah)

Unless you’re dying to cry your heart out”

Clearly, your heart had not learned its lesson. Though you had been pushing your feelings down for Tony successfully for a while now, something happened since your talk with Natasha. You were acting like an idiot. Like some middle schooler who couldn’t talk to her crush and it was becoming a serious problem.

“Are you doing okay, Y/N?” Tony asked one day after you ruined something in his lab when he was helping fit you to a new suit. “Something’s been… off lately with you. I’m started to grow concerned.”

“I’m fine,” you said too quickly, unable to met his gaze. You internally cringed, wishing that you could just get a grip already.

“Cause that was believable.” He continued working. “You know that you can talk to me, right?”

“I know.” Just never about this, you thought. 

“You keep on denying (oh)

Who you are and how you’re feeling

Baby, we’re not buying

Hon, we saw you hit the ceiling (oh)

Face it like a grown-up

When you gonna own up that you got, got, got it bad? (Whoa)”

Just another one of these stupid gala’s that the Team was forced to attend. You were standing to the side of the room, eyes focused on your drink. You were dressed in something that Natasha had picked for you and immediately noticed that Tony was wearing a matching tie as soon as you got here. You were trying to avoid everything and everyone, too caught up in your own world, to notice someone coming up to you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You jumped at Tony’s voice, despite it being one of your favorite things to hear. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “Came to check on you. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Fine.”

One of his brows rose as he looked at your unbelievingly. “Well, I think I have an idea to make it better.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dance floor.

“Tony, no, I—“

“You need to relax.” 

Tony took your drink and set it on the nearby table before tugging you into the middle of the crowd of couples dancing. He readjusted the hand he was already holding so that it was better for dancing while his other hand came around your back and pulled you close to him. He began leading you in a small circle. His eyes were focused on you while you were trying to look anywhere else.

“You keep doing that,” he mumbled.

“What?” You questioned, still not looking at him.

“Avoiding me… why?”

“I— I’m not avoiding you.”

Tony scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me. You won’t even look at me.” Your eyes slowly met his deep brown ones. A small smile formed across his face. “There they are… I’ve missed those beautiful eyes.”

Your heart was hammering against your chest as your face heated up at his words. You had to force yourself not to look away.

“We used to talk about everything,” Tony admitted quietly. “But you’ve been pulling away.”

“Just a lot going on,” you muttered. “Been pulled on a lot of different missions.”

“That’s not it and you know it… Is it… are you… is there some you’re seeing? Did a date workout?”

“No,” you quickly shook your head. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I just mean that good that no one’s hurting you. That— That’s it.”

The Team watched as you and Tony continued to dance and chat.

“She’s clearly in love with him,” Natasha commented. “Why can’t she see how in love with her Tony is?”

“Stop meddling, Nat,” Steve reprimanded. “Let things happen when they happen.”

“Says the man who waited too long.”

“Hey! That was low.”

“But true,” Bucky commented.

“There has to be a way that we can get them together,” continued Nat. “And I will be making it happen. Just watch.”

“No chance, no way

I won’t say it, no, no

Give up, give in

Check the grin, you’re in love

This scene won’t play

I won’t say I’m in love (you’re doing flips)

(Read our lips, you’re in love)”

Tony and you were in the lab. He had requested your help with one of his suits. The suit just shot him across the lab and you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter.

“Tony!” You laughed. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” he groaned, sitting up.

You rushed over and reached out a hand. Tony grabbed your outstretched hand, but instead of using it to pull himself up, he pulled you down. You squealed as you landed on Tony. He laughed, securing you to him. You froze as you realized how close your faces were. Tony’s laughter died down too as his eyes flickered to your lips. You shivered as his hand slipped up your body to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing against your skin.

“I…” you breathed out, mind reeling. “I got to go.”

You quickly pushed yourself off of Tony and rushed out of the room. Tony sighed, putting his hands over his eyes and he got angry with himself.

“You’re way off base

I won’t say it (she won’t say it loud)

Get off my case (sha-la)

I won’t say it (ooh)

Girl, don’t be proud

It’s okay, you’re in love”

You had been completely avoiding Tony since the incident in the lab and everyone, especially Tony, can tell. 

“Leave me alone, Nat!” You yelled as she tried to convince you to talk to Tony for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Seriously!”

“You are doing more harm than good at this point, Y/N!” She replied, not giving up. “Just be honest with yourself and Tony. You both deserve better than this.”

“Please, leave me be, Nat!”

“It’s okay to feel this way! It’s normal to be in love and to be scared. Tony’s scared too.”

“You don’t know what you’re taking about.”

Natasha sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to back down so it was time for her plan B to be put into place. She got a tranquilizer gun from her boot and shot you in the back. You gasped, falling forward and passing out quickly. She shook her head as she grabbed your body and began dragging you away.

~~~

You woke up with a groan. Looking around, you realized that you were laying on a table in one of the conference rooms. Tony was on the other end, sitting in one of the chairs.

“What’s—“ You cut yourself up to clear your throat as you sat up. “What’s going on?”

“Romanoff,” Tony answered. “She locked us in here and isn’t going to let us out unless…”

“Unless?”

Tony sighed, lifting his head to look at you. “Unless we confess our feelings.”

“No,” you immediately said, shaking your head. You scrambled off the table and onto your feet. “She can’t do this.”

Tony stood up and slowly began coming over to you. “Why? Why can’t she?”

“Because… Because… I… She just can’t.”

“Is it because you don’t feel the way she thinks you do or is it because you do?”

“Tony… I can’t… I won’t say anything… I can’t get hurt again.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you, sweetheart… Never.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“But I can show it. If you’d let me.”

“Tony… I…” Your heart was screaming at you to just tell him that you loved him, but your mind was winning. “I… I’m sorry… I can’t say it. I can’t. I… I care too much… I have to protect myself. I have to—“

Tony grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His lips attached to yours in a swift motion, catching you off guard.

“Oh

At least out loud

I won’t say I’m in love

(Shoo-doop, shoo-doop, shoo-doop, shoo-doop)

(Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ah)”

Tony guided you through the tender kiss, his hands holding your face close to his. You allowed yourself to relax and melt into him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips when he finally broke the kiss. “I love you, too. And I will do whatever I can to show you every day.” His lips pecked yours. “Every damn day. I love you.”

“And if I won’t say it back just yet?” you nervously questioned.

“You don’t ever have to say it, if you’re not ready. But I’ll still be here. I promise.”

[mcrdvcks]

congrats on 2k!!🥰

may i ask for tony stark x reader headcanons, where tony just tries to keep winning over his secretary!reader and wants to date them because he's soooo in love with them?

confession: i love tony but i only see him as a father figure. i know that sounds weird, but i think it has to do with all the irondad and peter parker x stark!reader fics i read during quarantine. this was probably my hardest request, and i'm not sure i got his character right since this is my first time writing him in a romantic sense. i hope it's okay!

send an ask for my 2,000 followers celebration!

warnings/tags: secretary!reader, tony trying to flirt, reader's not impressed, fluff

It starts with curiosity. You’re smart, efficient, immune to his charm. You don’t laugh at his jokes unless they’re actually funny. You don’t blush when he winks. You send calendar invites with exact timestamps and zero emojis.

You once told him “You have a meeting in four minutes. Stop flirting and finish your coffee.” And Tony? Swooned. He calls it “tough love.” Pepper calls it “finally someone who tells him no.”

He tries subtle flirting at first. “Is it hot in here or is it just your spreadsheet formatting?” “You type like an angel. Fast. Efficient. Slightly terrifying.” “If you wanted me to fall for you, you should’ve just said so instead of handing me that expense report.” You blink. “Sign it, Stark.”

He starts giving you nicknames. Nothing crude—just too charming for his own good. “Boss of My Life.” “The Backbone of Stark Industries.” “Miss Efficiency (and Occasionally Terrifying Grace).”

He buys you coffee every morning. From your favorite place. Exactly the way you like it. The barista starts assuming you’re the one dating him. You’re not.

He brags about you constantly. “She schedules my life with military precision.” “She shut down a hostile board member in five words.” “If I had half her focus, I’d be… well, still a genius, but a slightly better one.”

Tony tries so hard to impress you. Starts arriving to meetings on time (just for you). Tries to remember names on the call sheets (you notice). Once reprogrammed the coffee machine to say “good morning, [your name]” every time you walked in.

He lowkey panics when you don’t show up on time. “Is she sick? Did I overwork her? Did I say something wrong?” You had car trouble. He buys you a new car. You glare at him for three days. “Okay, okay. Loaner car. But it happens to be nice.”

Pepper knows. Rhodey knows. Happy definitely knows. They start placing bets on when you’ll finally give in.

You once laughed at something he said—really laughed—and he froze like he’d been electrocuted.

Eventually, he stops pretending it’s casual. One late night at the office, he walks in, sets down takeout, and says, “I know you’ve got standards, and I know I’m a mess. But I’m a mess who’s in love with you. So if you ever feel like taking a chance… I’m right here. With dumplings.”

He still flirts after that—but it’s gentler now. Real. “You make me want to show up better. Not for the company. For you.”

And you? You don’t say yes immediately. You make him wait. But one day, you take the coffee he hands you, smile just slightly, and say, “dinner tonight?” He spills half his own drink.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Soft touches

PAIRING || Husband! Dad! Young! Tony Stark x Wife! Mom! Pregnant! Fem! Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 900 words

SUMMARY || You and Tony are spending a much-needed, relaxing night at a hotel, and your husband is more than happy to stuff you until you cannot take any more, or so you think.

RATING || Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS || Young! Tony Stark au, pregnant! reader, pregnancy fic, explicit sexual content

SMUT || Implied cockwarming, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, nipple play, Reader has pierced nipples, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cream pie, fingering.

A/N || @ccbsrmsf1 - Thank you for inspiring this sweet, hot story of our favorite couple! I owe this and so much more to you, and I’m happy to be able to give you this amazing work. I love you, and I look forward to sharing countless more ideas with you! 🤍

Photo: @ccbsrmsf1 || All the other graphics in this post are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Young! Tony Stark

Mornings with your best friend and husband, Tony, have always been your favorite part of the days you get to spend with him, but ever since starting and growing your family - and having yet another baby on the way - they haven’t been as quiet and peaceful as when you first started dating.

Now that your daughter Easton’s due date is only two months away, Tony decided to treat you like a queen by taking you out for dinner and spending a night at a hotel, while his parents are spoiling your twins, Hudson and Orion, and son, Paxton. They absolutely adore their grandchildren, and jumped on the opportunity to have them spend the night with them.

As soon as you two got to the hotel Tony booked, he drew a bath for you two, where you spent most of the night kissing, cuddling and sharing memories while he stuffed you with his cock until the water turned cold, and you moved to the king size bed that looks out over a phenomenal view of New York City.

“Good morning, my beautiful Sunshine,” Tony whispers as his large hand gently rubs over your growing belly, his lips pressing featherlight kisses on the bare skin of your shoulder. His facial hair makes you giggle, and you can’t help but press back against his hard cock that’s trapped between your warm bodies.

“Someone’s excited this morning!” You joke, and he hums in approval as he pushes his hips forward, his cock being pushed against the crease of your ass as he does. A soft moan escapes your lips as his hand travels from your body to one of your pierced nipples, his fingers playing with the metal expertly. Your pussy is already drenched from the pure anticipation and teasing, and you can’t wait much longer to have him inside you again.

The pregnancy has heightened your libido exponentially, and Tony is more than happy to indulge every craving you could possibly have. It doesn’t take long for Tony to be kneeling between your legs, his thick thighs keeping yours apart as he gets ready to make love to you, his thick, veiny cock standing at attention against his abdomen, a bead of pre-cum threatening to spill down the length of his shaft..

“You just relax, okay? I’ll promise to go slow,” he says, and you nod before readjusting a little, and a soft gasp is audible when his thick, dribbling tip presses against your willing entrance. A deep groan rises from his chest as you happily take inch by inch, his hips going slow as promised. It takes every bit of restraint not to slam into you in one motion, but he promised to go slow, and he’s not one to break his promises, especially in the bedroom.

“Fuck- You feel so good, Sunshine. You look so hot right now.”

Tony’s eyes are gliding over your face, his heart beating faster and his lips curling into a smile at the slight scrunch of it as he’s taking his time stretching you. Then, as the last inch of his length slides in, you moan loudly, his tip hitting your sweet spot right away. His hands find their place on your belly, as it’s his favorite thing to touch every time you’re pregnant.

“Look at this belly, Sunshine. Carrying our daughter in there, keeping her safe all those months while I take care of you. I’ll never get enough of seeing your belly grow, and your boobs getting big and heavy… God, I’m dying to have another taste of your sweet milk, too, Sunshine,” he grumbles, his cock twitching inside your warm pussy at the thought of drinking from you again.

This time, your milk hasn’t come in yet, but it shouldn’t take much longer, and Tony is practically counting down the days until you’re finally lactating again. The entire time he works on building your highs, he cannot stop praising and complimenting you, adding to your arousal and pride, your cheeks flushed when you’re nearing your first high of the day.

“T-Tony, please,” you mutter, and he bends forward to kiss you passionately, his tongue mingling with yours as he swallows your sounds, his hips quickening their pace to bring you to your high. It doesn’t take long for you both to fall over the edge, his seed filling you to the point where it spills out, your pussy being unable to contain it all. His thick fingers scoop it up before pushing it back in, not wanting to waste a single drop.

“Take it all, Sunshine. Your greedy little pussy wants all of my cum in her. And I’m planning on doing exactly that for the rest of the day,” he tells you, followed by three of  his fingers pressing into your sensitive pussy, a loud moan being pushed from your lungs as he pushes them in, the feeling of overstimulation being very close.

The rest of the day, Tony takes amazing care of you, and you’re walking a bit funny when it’s finally time to see your babies again, but you don’t mind in the slightest. It may earn you a few odd looks, but knowing that it was your husband who did it to you makes you not mind it in the slightest. He’ll definitely make up for it later, though, and you’re already planning on exactly how to make him do that.

[never-fair]

sweetheart || tony stark x you

tony's arms slung around your waist as you lazily held the drink you had gotten in your hand, setting it down to twirl the pretty straw that came with it. you had chosen to get some regular old juice, knowing you had a mission tomorrow and couldn't afford getting hungover.

tony on the other hand decided to push his luck and got himself a pina colada from the pop-up mini bar next to the beach. he knew his alcohol tolerance was above average anyways. you both had decided to take a day off of missions and reports to relax and just be with each other. you had missed moments like these from when you weren't an avenger.

though, being an avenger had its pros as well. for one, you could be with tony almost all the time. and that's something you'll never be able to give up.

you smiled as he snuck his other hand to your jaw, grasping it softly so he could look you in the eye. before he even turned yourself to him, you could already sense the smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

"what d'ya want, dumbass?" you sighed with a sly smirk of your own, amusement lacing your tone. the billionaire raised his eyebrow at you, liking this new found confidence you had shown. but, he did prefer when you'd act like putty in his hands. he found it adorable.

"dumbass?" he repeated, laughing softly. "what did i do to earn that title?"

you shook your head playfully and raised your straw up to your lips, taking another sip of your drink.

after you had set your glass back down, tony took your chin in between his hand, wanting to get some sort of cute reaction out of you.

"look at me," he softly ordered, making your insides all gooey and sticky. you had a love-hate relationship with the things he did to you. it was almost as if when he said anything to you, you would just shut off. shut down and become a absolute mess. you loved it.

"i have been called many things. an asshole is indeed one of the- are you blushing?" he asked, cutting himself off halfway in between his sentence. his eyes flickered to your cheeks and back to your eyes. a grin appeared on his face.

you grumbled and jerked your face away from tony, moving down so your face was buried in his chest. tony aww-ed out loud and pat your back gently, his chin craning down to kiss you in your hair.

"my shy sweetheart,"

[mylittle-escapingdreams]

Nothing Really Matters

Fandom: Marvel Shipping: Tony x GN!reader WC: 797 Note: I came back to tumblr only to find a distinct lack of Tony fluff. I love smut as much as the next person but fluff... is necessary sometimes. This is more of a vent thing for me - again.

The water slowly washed over their feet, the cold pulling them back to reality every time. There was little like this, and yet there was nothing that could make it better. The beach could be lonely and drowned in purple and blue just as the sky painted, a soft glow on their skin from the sun that had started falling behind the horizon and yet something was amiss. Something still left them feeling like there was a hole in their chest, a complete void that somehow managed to suck every bit of happiness out of it. Medication, therapy, yoga, exercise. They'd tried it all. Judging from this one could guess that the issue was a depressive episode, it'd pass. But it never does, does it? It comes back crashing just like the waves do. They disappear and gather whatever strength they have, slowly washing up on the shore only to cover their feet again.

Tony was just arriving in one of his cars, blasting ACDC as loud as he could handle it. He hadn't a care in the world which car it was, what time of day. He remembered this was their favorite spot to be when everything got a bit too much, when life was hard. He'd known hardships, anxiety, depression too. He couldn't begin to understand what they were going through really, since he'd never experienced it first hand, but knowing that it ate them up gave him a pain in his chest not even having his reactor ripped out could mimic. As he slowly walked down a small path with dirt and stones in his shorts and some button up he threw on, he took off his glasses to see the love of his life in a clearer light. The sky behind them gave them an ethereal look, even more so than usual. Something straight out of a book, he'd say. But none of his words will do much to keep those waves from crashing, and he knows it. His steps carried him closer to his love and he stopped beside them, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Tony, I think I'm not meant to be here," they said softly, their gaze just locked to the floor. They were biting on their cheeks, keeping the tears at bay for sure. Tony breathed in slowly, knowing there was more coming so he didn't speak; "It hurts. All the time. It fucking sucks, and nothing works. I've been going through the fucking motions every day. I take my meds, I do the work, I do therapy. And still it fucking hurts. And for what?" They complained, their voice filling with anger. Anger for themselves, the world, the reason they are this way. They wanted to scream, shout, cry about how much it hurt but there was so little that did. Nothing was really helpful here. Tony moved his eyes over to properly give their face a glance, keeping his eyes on them, too. Despite the tears welling in their eyes, despite their bloody lip from biting it hard, and despite the messy and greasy hair nothing could beat the beauty of his person. He could do little but remind them over and over that they are, in fact, meant to be here with him. Listen, help them through it.

"Listen sweetheart," he started, taking a small pause just to contemplate what exactly he was gonna say, "There are few things in this universe I can't explain. Hell, I can explain a shitload of things. And if I could explain and make it all better I'd do it in a heartbeat and you know it." he gently grabbed their hand as he spoke, wanting to slowly approach the matter of touch. Sometimes it's too much, sometimes it's necessary. And he'd learned that it was important to scope it out beforehand, "You are the most important thing in the world to me. I'd burn it all for you."

Tony ran his finger over the ring on their finger. A small token of his appreciation, nothing super expensive because he knew their favorite band and gem. The words they'd promised eachother invisible, but he knew they were engraved on the inside of the ring. Their eyes met his now, the tears falling down their face. It wasn't often that they cried.

"Time and time again I'll let you know I won't let you go. We'll weather this storm. And every single one after it too, you know?" Tony said again, getting a little closer to them. They nodded slightly, their breath shaky. With a quick movement Tony pulled them into an embrace and just held them as they sobbed. If this was what they needed, he'd do this. If they needed him to burn the world, he would, too.

[12welveinched]

Me after clicking a p link thinking it was a fic rec.

Jumpscare.

[that1nerd-20]

When a fanfic writer puts a nickname you think Is icky in their smut fic

[orithyia-eriphyle]

summer breeze - b. barnes x reader

Summary: The one where Bucky is still adjusting to his newfound freedom, and you are his light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: Swearing, non-sexual nudity, injuries, and blood.

Reader has sun/solar-based abilities.

6.1k words

Bucky Barnes was a man of few words. He said only what was necessary and hardly spoke unless spoken to. Steve seemed to be the only person who could ever get Bucky to talk freely. Sam was a close second, although he teased Bucky more than once until the soldier was grumbling expletives under his breath with a clenched fist. 

However, Bucky was a creature of habit.

He woke at dawn every day to go on a run with Sam and Steve, not before drinking a hot cup of black coffee. After his jog, he would train in the gym for two hours and then leave for a shower. He would then make himself a simple lunch and catch up on work. Lastly, Bucky ended his night by reading a book of his choice to help ease his mind. 

When Bucky began to deviate from said routine about two months ago, it did not go unnoticed. 

It started not too long after Bucky had moved into the tower. Bucky had been placed on the same floor as you, his bedroom right across the hall from yours. 

You would wake as he was coming back from the gym, usually catching him on the way back to his ensuite bathroom for a shower. You would greet him with the same sugary sweet smile and voice that almost tempted the super soldier to crack from his usual brooding and smile back.

But he never did. At least, not until recently. 

You knew that Bucky had nightmares. You could hear him at night. The screams of pain, terror, guilt. You name it. 

Every time his nightmares woke you up, the only thing you wanted to do was help. However, Steve and Tony advised against it. They reminded you that Bucky was still unstable, and it was best to let him ride out his nightmares alone, no matter how terrible they may sound. 

You hated it. 

Some nights, you would stay up staring at the dark ceiling in your room, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at the sound of his yells. It would never last longer than a few minutes. But those few minutes were enough for you to feel your heart break for him. 

After roughly a month of only seeing Bucky in passing, he surprised you. 

You and Natasha had been on a week-long mission across seas and were scheduled to return home that night. You had practically stumbled off the Quinjet, your bones and muscles aching with exhaustion. You walked past the medbay despite Natasha’s protest to at least get checked on. Instead, opt for a hot shower and your warm bed.

What you didn’t expect was to find Bucky sitting at your shared kitchen counter, a hot plate of spaghetti set on the bar across from him. 

As soon as the elevator doors dinged open, his gaze shot to you. You tried to ignore the way it roamed over your body, as if assessing for any injury, as you approached the kitchen.  

Seeing Bucky in the kitchen wasn’t an unusual sight for you. However, it was well past midnight, meaning it was well past Bucky’s unspoken bedtime. 

“What’s this?” You ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence that enveloped the two of you.

Bucky glanced at the food, then back to you. His face never changing. “It’s for you.” He spoke, his voice coming out gruff as if it hadn’t been used in a while. Which it probably hadn’t. 

You quirked a brow at him but took a seat in front of the plate. This was an unusual display from him, and the last thing you wanted to do was embarrass or scare him off. 

You swirled the noodles around your fork and took a bite, savoring the taste as it melted against your tongue. 

“You don’t eat after missions.”

Your eyes shot to Bucky at the sound of his voice. However, he was looking at the counter and not at you.

“It doesn’t really cross my mind.” You reply, returning to your meal. 

“You need to eat.” He responded firmly. The clipped way in which he spoke made you not want to argue. 

“I might be more inclined to eat after a mission if I came home to home-cooked meals every time.” You attempted to joke with him. He didn’t even smirk.

He pointed at your plate, “Eat.” He said before stalking off back towards his room.

Your gaze followed his broad shoulders. “Thank you!” You remembered to shout down the hall, not missing the way his footsteps halted for hardly a millisecond. You smiled down at your food, glad to see that he cared in his own, quiet way. 

The next mission you came back from, there was a hot plate of food already waiting for you on the counter. 

You shoot awake in your bed at the sound of a scream followed by loud bangs. You knew who it was. Bucky’s nightmares were bad, but he had yet to get violent. 

You sat in your bed and stared at your bedroom door as if willing yourself to see through the walls separating the two of you.   

Every instinct in your body screamed to help him. Help him not suffer anymore. But the voices of Steve and Tony rang in your head, warning you against it. You contemplated as the violent noises didn’t let up, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Fuck it. You’re an Avenger. If he tries to kill you, then you’ll figure it out.

You slipped out of bed, the cool air hitting your bare legs. You snapped your fingers, a small glowing ball forming above your hand and lighting up the surrounding area. You pushed your bedroom door open and crept across the hall to Bucky’s room. You paused in front of his door, taking a deep breath as your heart thrummed unsteadily in your chest. 

You pushed the handle down slowly, pushing the door open and extending your makeshift light into the room to see. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but then you saw him, and the sight in front of you just about broke you. 

His usually large form was made small against the corner of his room. His knees were folded to his chest and his head tucked down. You could see his body tremble violently from where you stood in the doorway. 

“Bucky.” You called out, gentle yet firm. 

He didn’t seem to hear you, his head still tucked and his body shaking. 

You took another deep breath, scolding yourself for being stupid before stepping further into the room and towards the soldier. As you got closer, you could make out the sound of his stuttered breathing and the occasional hitch. Your frown deepened. 

“Bucky? Bucky, it’s me. (Y/n).” You spoke again, slowly kneeling in front of the man. 

Still no response. 

You breathed out a long breath through your nose before closing your eyes briefly. 

You reached a hand out to him, slow and careful. As gently as you could manage, you placed a hand on his shoulder. 

Before you could even react, your body was slammed to the floor, and an arm was pressed across your chest, holding you down. 

Bucky stared down at you with wild eyes. His forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his breathing was labored. His arm on your chest was firm, but you could feel the way that it shook against you. 

“Bucky! Hey! It’s me!” Your voice rose slightly despite you trying to stay calm. 

Bucky’s hold on you didn’t let up. All he did was continue to stare at you with that blank stare, as if he weren’t all there. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to think, looking around the room. Suddenly, it hit you. 

You evened out your breathing and reached a steady hand out to him. His eyes darted between you and your hand, but he didn’t stop you. 

You gently placed your hand against his stubble-covered cheek. You spoke to him softly. Like a mother calming down her frightened child. 

“It’s okay, Buck. I’m right here. You’re safe.” You paused as you felt the pressure on your chest let up a bit. You continued, “They can’t make you do anything here, Bucky. I’m here. (Y/n) is right here with you. I won’t let them hurt you again.” You whispered, softly running your thumb over the curve of his jaw.

You watched as the light slowly returned to his blue eyes, and his breathing began to slow again. 

“(Y-Y/n)?” Bucky croaked out, his voice rough from yelling. 

You smiled at him. “Yeah, Buck. It’s me.” Your hand never left his face.  

Buckt seemed to finally realize the situation you were in, and he retracted his arm like he had been burned. He scrambled backwards until his back hit the side of his bed. 

“Y-You need to leave. I don’t want to hurt you.” He stuttered out, his eyes not meeting your own. You smiled at him gently and scooted towards him. 

“But you didn’t, Buck. You didn’t even come close.” You stated, placing a firm hand against his vibranium arm.

“But-”

“No buts. I’m okay. You’re okay.” You interjected, not wanting him to linger on the prospect of accidentally hurting you any longer. 

There was a brief pause between you two as Bucky’s breath finally evened out fully. “Why are you in here?” He questioned gruffly. 

You tilted your head at him as if he should know the answer to that already. “I was worried and wanted to help.” You responded, never raising your voice over a whisper.

Bucky let out a self-deprecating scoff. “I can deal with the nightmares on my own.” He said, once again avoiding your gaze. 

You grabbe his jaw once again, ignoring the way he stiffened for a second and tilted his eyes up to meet yours. 

“You don’t have to deal with them on your own.” You reassured him, your gaze unwavering. Bucky swallowed as he stared at you. You realized he might be uncomfortable being so close to someone he hardly knew, so you scooted away and dropped your hand from his face.

Bucky tried to ignore the twinge of disappointment he felt. 

Since that night, you and Bucky had gotten noticeably closer. 

He lingered around the compound more and followed you around like a lost puppy. He would do small things for you. things he wouldn’t do for anyone else. 

He would grab things for you off the top shelf that you couldn’t quite reach. He waited for you outside the gym so he could walk you back to your shared floor. He would make an extra pot of coffee in the morning for when you woke up.

The others began to notice. 

One day, Sam and Steve were visiting Bucky on your guys’ floor. You were out with Wanda and Natasha and would be returning anytime now. 

Bucky stood at the oven, the sound of food sizzling on a pan bouncing around the kitchen. 

“I didn’t take you for a chicken tender guy, Barnes,” Sam stated as he sat at the kitchen bar with Steve. Bucky didn’t even glance over his shoulder before responding. 

“(Y/n) likes them.” He said in his usual gruff tone.

Sam looked at Steve, who just shrugged. Sam continued with his teasing.

“So you’re making lunch for (Y/n), who isn’t even home yet, and won’t make any for us?” Sam said with a quirked brow. 

This time, Bucky threw a quick look at the two men over his shoulder before turning back to the stove. “(Y/n) likes my cooking.” He stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Right on cue, the elevator doors opened, and you walked through. “Hey, boys.” You greeted casually as you beelined straight for Bucky. They didn’t miss the small quirk on his lips as he watched you approach him.

“Hey, Buck.” You greeted him separately, placing a gentle hand on the middle of his back, right between his shoulder blades. You looked down at the pan of chicken. “You makin’ yourself some lunch?” You questioned quietly. Bucky shook his head lightly. 

“It’s for you…if you want it.” He said in an almost timid manner, afraid you would reject his cooking despite never having done so before. 

Your smile was blinding as you looked back up at him. “I could never say no to your cooking, Bucky. Thank you.” You said, a sincere grin stretched across your face. 

Sam and Steve watched the almost domestic interaction before excusing themselves and heading to the elevator.

“Man, did you see that?!” Sam questioned with an incredulous wave of his arms as soon as the doors of the elevator shut. 

“I haven’t seen him act that comfortable around anybody but me,” Steve replied, brows furrowed. “I figured they would warm up to each other eventually due to the proximity, but I never expected it to happen this quick,” Steve stated. His mind was running a mile a minute to figure out what you possibly could’ve done to make Bucky act so… peaceful. 

Sam shook his head as the doors opened to another floor, and they stepped out. “As curious as I am, I’ll take this as a win. It’s good he’s opening up to someone.” The man said to Steve, who gave him a firm nod.

“Let’s hope it progresses from here, then.”

“You are going to pace a hole into my floors, Tinman,” Tony said sarcastically as he watched Bucky’s large frame lumber back and forth in front of the large doors of the landing pad of the tower. 

His gaze snapped up to Tony. “Her comms are shut off, and she was supposed to be back an hour ago.” He said, his voice hoarse. Tony sighed in understanding. Despite his playful demeanor, he too was worried about you. 

“That’s why we sent Rogers and Romanoff out 30 minutes ago. They’ll get her, and everyone will be okay.” Tony said in an attempt to calm the anxious super soldier. 

Suddenly, Natasha’s voice crackled to life over the intercom of the room they were in. “We found her. She’s unconscious and bleeding. The rest of the men have been taken care of, and we’re taking her back to the jet.” Natasha spoke with an emotionless tone. The tone she uses when she doesn’t want to break.

Tony was the one to reply, but it was all white noise for Bucky.

Bucky felt like the world was crumbling around him. His small, quiet world he had just barely managed to build. 

In the year that Bucky had been living with the Avengers, living with you, he had grown an undeniable fondness towards you. He knew it, and so did everyone else. You were his sun, and not just because of your abilities. You reached out to him when he felt like he was drowning. Every moment spent with you felt like breathing. 

Each night that you came into his room and calmed him down from whatever terrors that lingered in his mind meant so much to him. Each time, you invited him to watch a movie with you. Something so simple, but you didn’t have to. Sometimes, he would wake up to the credits rolling and his head in your lap. Your delicate fingers running through his long hair.

He clung to your natural warmth like it was the only thing he knew. You were the most gentle being he ever met. He was only reminded of your strength when out on the battlefield, watching you tear through the enemy forces like it was second nature.

His breathing grew heavy as every sweet memory the two of you shared crossed his mind. All he could think about was you. Your voice, your laughter, the way your hair fell against your shoulders, the glint you got in your eyes when you teased him, the way you would hum him to sleep after a particularly rough dream. 

Bucky decided then and there that he couldn’t live without you. Couldn’t live without the warmth you brought to his cold heart. 

“...nes! Barnes!” Bucky’s head shot up at the sound of Tony’s voice. The billionaire was looking down at the trembling man.

“You need to get it together, pal. They’re almost here, and we need your muscles to get her to the medbay.” Bucky’s open mouth closed as he nodded and stood. 

“Did something happen to Steve?” He questioned, knowing that Steve was plenty capable of carrying you himself.

Tony held his chin between two fingers. “Bullet wound in the abdomen. He’s awake and stable but in no condition to carry anyone.” Tony said as the quinjet came into view and began to descend onto the landing pad. Tony looked to Bucky, “She’s top priority.” Bucky nodded. He didn’t need to be told that. 

As soon as the doors opened, the two men descended upon the quinjet. Natasha stepped out with Steve’s weakening body slumped against her body, supporting his weight. She looked to Bucky, “She’s laid out on the seats. Bleeding’s been stopped.” Bucky gave a curt nod and rushed to your unconscious body that was draped over the quinjet’s seating. 

He scooped you into his arms as Tony followed behind, relaying your visible condition to the doctors via the communications device in his ear. 

Bucky’s heavy footfalls thudded throughout the hall as he ran to the medbay. He glanced down at your face every so often. “C’mon sweetheart. You gotta wake up.” He mumbled to himself as the medbay doors finally came into view. 

The attending doctors rushed out the doors to guide Bucky to the surgical table. He set you down gently and watched as the doctors swooped down on you, scissors cutting open your gear and clothes. 

Tony placed a hand on his chest, “C’mon, Barnes. We gotta leave so they can help her.” Tony showed an unusual gentleness, understanding Bucky’s feelings. 

Bucky didn’t put up a fight. He knew he’d just get in the way if he stayed. He exited the doors and walked to the room where Steve was being fixed up. 

The doors slid open, and he met the gaze of Natasha and Steve. His eyes were cold as he stared at them.

“You said it was just a recon mission. There shouldn’t have been that many people there.” Bucky spoke to Steve, his voice unwavering but gruff. 

Steve huffed, his gaze fixed on the linoleum floors. “It was an ambush. More men than she could handle on her own.” He stated. Bucky didn’t reply, his gaze flickering over to Natasha, who was worrying her lip between her teeth. 

“What happened to her?” His voice was quieter now, unsure if he wanted the answer.

Natasha responded this time, “She got overwhelmed. They had some new tech. Something that subdued her powers enough for them to get close.” Natasha’s voice faltered as she continued, “Four gunshot wounds to the torso and a lacerated spleen due to a knife.” 

Bucky swallowed down the lump in his throat. He had taken more gunshots, more knives to the torso than he could remember. But you were you. You didn’t have some fancy serum running through your veins that healed you faster like he and Steve did. 

Bucky almost didn’t want to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, but he did. “Do you think she’ll be okay?” His voice was quiet and strained. 

He took note of the hesitance in both Steve and Natasha’s faces. Finally, Steve replied. “We’re unsure. She was unconscious by the time we got to her, and we don’t know how long she was like that.”

Bucky’s whole demeanor changed. His already stiff shoulders tensed considerably, his jaw locked, and his gaze became steely.

“If she dies–” Bucky choked out, not able to finish his sentence. His vibranium fist clenched so hard the metal groaned under the pressure.

He turned and stormed out of the room.

You were out of surgery soon enough and were wheeled into a recovery room. You were stable, and the doctors said you would be okay. But you were yet to wake up. 

Bucky sat next to your bed, his right hand laced with yours. He wanted to feel the unnatural warmth you always had. But now you felt just like everyone else. 

It had been two days since your surgery, and Bucky had only left your side to use the bathroom and to eat. 

Bucky’s eyes shot to the door as Steve walked in. He took in the sight of his best friend. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes were sunken due to exhaustion. 

“Buck.” He said gently, “You need to rest up and shower.” 

“I can’t. What if she wakes up?” He asked. His voice was hoarse and broken.

Steve sighed. “I’ll be right here, and you’ll be the first to know.” He reassured him. However, Bucky didn’t move. 

“C’mon, Buck. You know she won’t want to see you like that.” He said, stepping closer. “She won’t be able to focus on recovering if she’s too worried about you.” 

Bucky’s eyes met Steve’s. He was right, you couldn’t see him this way. He stood from his chair, his eyes never leaving your face as he walked to the door. 

“Promise me you’ll tell me as soon as she wakes up.” He said, not looking at Steve.

Still, Steve smiled, “I promise, Buck.”

Bucky was quick in the shower, feeling no need to linger. 

Now, he laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had no desire to sleep. He didn’t deserve to. Not when you were suffering on your own. However, the exhaustion from being up for two days straight and worrying about you finally creeps up on him. He tried to fight off the sleep, but his eyelids only grew heavier and heavier until he drifted off.

“... Sergeant Barnes.” The artificial voice rang throughout his room, causing Bucky to shoot up from his bed.

“FRIDAY?” He croaked out. His voice thick with sleep.

“Captain Rogers asked me to inform you that Miss. (L/n) is awake and is requesting to see you.” The robotic voice explained. 

Bucky didn’t need to hear anything else as he stumbled from his bed and to the door of his room. His breathing was heavy and rough as he sprinted to your recovery room. Every fiber in his being screamed at him to move faster, get to you quicker. As if you would disappear if he didn’t.

Bucky began closing in on the doors of your recovery room, not bothering to slow down, opting to barrel through the cracked door.

His quick movements came to a halt at the sight of you. You were sat up in your bed, Steve’s hand on your back to keep you stable. There was a doctor in the room with a clipboard, presumably talking to you before being interrupted by Bucky’s dramatic entrance. 

Bucky’s breathing was labored as your eyes locked on him, and despite your situation, despite all the pain, you grinned. “Bucky.” His name came out of your mouth in a quiet whisper. 

He stalked over to you and felt his hand tremble as he reached for yours. “Hey, doll.” He said quietly, attempting to match your smile with a shaky one. 

Steve nodded to the doctor, who got the message and turned to leave. Steve spoke next. “You two catch up for now.” He said, then turned to you, “Let us know if you need anything.” He spoke more gently now. 

You smiled up at him. “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve nodded and left the room.

You looked back to Bucky, your fingers slowly gaining back their warmth. “Hi, Bucky.” You said, your grin not leaving your face.

Bucky let out a disbelieving laugh. “How can you be grinning right now?” He asked, his smile gentle and sweet. 

You shrugged and ran your thumb over the back of his hand, tracing the scars. “Well, I’m alive, aren’t I? I couldn’t have asked for better.” You spoke to him.

Bucky shook his head. “I would’ve preferred for you not to be sitting here, injured.” He said, his eyes glancing over your every feature. He couldn’t be happier to be talking to you right now. 

“Bucky?” Your small voice echoed between the two of you.

His eyes never left your face. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I want to take a shower.” You stated plainly. 

Bucky laughed increduously at your simple request. “Baby—” The pet name slipped out, but he didn’t notice. “You are in no condition to leave this bed right now.” He said.

You pouted. “Bucky, I feel so gross. I can’t live like this.”

He rolled his eyes at your whining but kept smiling. “As soon as you’re cleared, doll, I’ll get you a shower. I promise.” He said gently, as if he were placating a child.

Your smile softened. “Okay, Bucky. Thank you.”

Bucky’s head tilted slightly as he looked at you. “Anything you want, doll, it’s yours.”

It took only two more days for you to be cleared to walk around and move back into your room. You were to report back for daily checkups and were on strong antibiotics. 

Bucky stood next to your hospital bed as you shimmied your shirt over your head. He turned away to protect your modesty but stood close in case you needed his help. 

“Bucky.” 

He turned back around at the call of his name, his gaze raking over your body. It was refreshing to see you in something other than a hospital gown.

“Ready to go?” He asked, extending his vibranium hand out to you. You nodded. You took his hand and stood shakily. His flesh hand was placed gently on the small of your back as he helped you stand. “Let me know if you need me to carry you.” He said firmly, not wanting to risk you getting injured any further. 

The two of you walked out of the room. His usual quick strides were slower in shorter to keep pace with you. Slowly but surely, the two of you made it to your room. You sat on your bed to catch your breath, having not been used to walking so far, let alone at all. 

Bucky watched as your gaze lingered on your bathroom door. “Shower?” He asked you. You looked to him with a small smile and nodded. 

Before you could bother trying to stand, Bucky was walking to your bathroom. You listened to the sound of the shower as Bucky turned it on. He came back to the room and rummaged through your drawers, looking for comfortable clothes. He went back to the bathroom to place your folded clothes on the counter for you. He was quick to walk back out to your side, hoisting you up gently. 

“You don’t have to do this, Buck.” You spoke softly. 

Bucky didn’t look at you, too focused on watching your footing. “Don’t start with that. I want to.” He replied, leaving no room for argument. 

The two of you made it to the bathroom, and he slowly dropped your hand. 

“Do you need help?” He asked, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

You glanced over at your shower. It was a walk-in, so it should be manageable. “No, I think I’ll be okay.” You replied and turned to look back at Bucky.

You could still see the worry swirl in his eyes, but you knew he wouldn’t stop worrying until you were completely healed. Eventually, he nodded. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right outside the door.” He said.

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Bucky. I will.”

His gaze lingered on you before turning to leave, closing the door with a quiet click behind him. 

You turned to the shower and took a deep breath. You took off your clothes slowly, ignoring the searing pain in your torso as you lifted your arms over your head to get your shirt off. 

You had finally managed to get your clothes off and stared at yourself in the mirror. You frowned at your wounds that were stitched closed and traced a finger over them. They would scar. 

You sighed and walked slowly to the shower. You felt the temperature of the water, smiling to yourself when you realized Bucky had it set to just the right temperature. You stepped in and groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water beating against your skin. Your muscles began to relax as the water cascaded gently against your body.

You decided you couldn’t keep Bucky waiting forever and decided to begin washing yourself. You leaned over for your shampoo but winced and grabbed one of the wounds on your side. It seemed it didn’t agree with the movement. You powered through and grabbed the bottle, opening the lid and squirting the soap into your hand. 

You reached up to your head, ignoring the pain that racked up and down your body, and began scrubbing.

Your teeth are gritted painfully together, the white hot pain becoming unbearable. You couldn’t hold your arms up, let alone move them, for long due to your body being littered with deep wounds. You became frustrated, dropping your arms as the soap dripped down your hair and hands. Tears sprung to your eyes, angry with your own helplessness. 

You took a deep breath and shut the water off.

Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion at the sound of the water stopping. That was way too quick, especially considering your condition. 

“Bucky?” Your small voice echoed from behind the door.

 Bucky sprang up and paused right outside the door, hand already on the handle. “Doll? You alright?” He called out, his face etched with worry. 

No response.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t answer me, I’m going to come in there.” He could hear the worry in his voice as he spoke.

Once again, no response. 

Bucky’s breathing faltered, and he pressed down on the handle, pushing the door open with ease. 

His gaze immediately locked on you. Your arms were crossed over your chest, your body trembling. Either in pain or due to the cold on your wet skin. He couldn’t tell. However, he felt his heart clench in his chest at the sight of your wet eyes and your shaky bottom lip.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He breathed out, reaching you in three quick strides as his hands raised to cup your face gently.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked in a whisper, as if speaking in a normal voice would hurt you further. 

Your water eyes looked up at his, and you drew in a shaky breath before speaking. “I-I can’t–” You swallowed before continuing. “I need your help.” You said, “Please?” You choked out, meek and scared. 

Bucky felt his heart shatter. In the year he has known you, he has never seen you like this. So small and sad. 

Bucky brushed a tear from your cheek as it fell. “Of course, sweetheart.” His hands moved from your cheeks and to your shoulders. He nudged you back into the shower and turned the handle. The water came back to life, still warm. It trickled down your body as you stood there. 

Bucky smiled at you softly. “Are you okay with me taking my clothes off, doll?” He asked, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable than you already may be. He watched as you gave him a quick nod, the tears still not leaving your eyes. 

Bucky made quick work of his clothes before stepping into the shower right behind you. “Is it okay if I touch you?” He asked calmly. You responded with another nod of your head. 

Bucky drew in a breath before reaching for your hair and scrubbing in the rest of the shampoo. He was gentle and careful, treating you like a doll. His doll. He turned you around to rinse your hair in the water but paused when he saw the tears running down your face and your lip still trembling. His frown deepened as he took in your smaller form.

He cupped your face again. “What’s wrong, honey? Where’s it hurt?” He questioned, his gaze dropping slightly to look at your wounds before he locked his eyes back onto yours. 

You shook your head at him, and his brows furrowed in response. “You gotta talk to me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what's wrong.” He chided gently, egging you on. 

You drew in a shaky breath before speaking. “I was so scared, Bucky.” You looked down at his chest, wanting to avoid his gaze. “I-I thought I was going to die.” You choked out.

Bucky’s shoulders tensed as he realized you were talking about that day. You hadn’t spoken of it since you woke up. No one pressured you, knowing you needed time. Bucky was about to respond, but you cut him off.

“And all I could think about—” You hiccuped, practically choking on your own emotion. “All I could think about was you.” You finally got out.

Bucky froze where he stood, his eyes widening slightly. 

“All I could think about was what you would do if I died. Who would comfort you when you had a nightmare—” You were speaking too fast now and tripping over your words. “And then, I sat there. Bleeding out, in pain, and my consciousness beginning to slip.” You paused. “All I thought about was how I was going to die here, cold and alone, never getting to tell you how I felt.” 

Bucky’s heart pounded hard in his chest as you rambled on. His grip on your face tightened slightly. “Doll—” He croaked, but you cut him off again. 

Your eyes locked with his. The color in them more vibrant with your tears. “I love you, Bucky Barnes. And I have to tell you now, or I’ll regret it forever.” You said resolutely, your voice more steady than it had been since he had entered the shower with you. 

Bucky could feel his own hands tremble. Could feel every beat of his pounding heart against his ribcage.

“You l-love me?” Bucky choked out, his own eyes beginning to water. 

You nodded, nuzzling your face into his open palm. Your eyes were still wet, and your lips still trembled. 

Bucky rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. He took in a steadying breath as he felt your lips brush his. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered. 

You responded with an almost imperceptible nod. 

Bucky sighed before slotting his lips against yours gently. He poured every ounce of love into that kiss. Every feeling you’ve ever made his cold heart feel. One of his hands dropped to your waist, the other to the side of your neck. He pulled you against him, his lips working over yours slowly. He groaned as one of your hands made their way into his hair, pulling gently. 

You pulled away first, gasping for air as you rested your forehead against his chest. Bucky’s hand gently chucked your chin, directing your gaze towards his. His eyes were so soft, so different from the usual look they held.

“I love you too, doll.” He whispered.

You felt your face split into a smile. Your tears were long gone. All you felt in that moment was love and joy. 

You tucked your face back into his chest as your body began to heat in giddy embarrassment due to your power. You felt the rumble of Bucky’s laugh against you. 

“You can’t be embarrassed now, Sweetheart. I’ve already seen you naked.” 

You responded with a smack to his chest and glared up at him. He only continued to smile at you before leaning down and capturing your lips into another kiss. This kiss was softer, slower. 

He pulled back and mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again.”

divider creds: @aquazero

[societyfolklore]

Open Up Baby

Title: Open Up Baby Pairing: Tony Stark  x Female Reader

Summary: Tony Stark straps you into a StarkTech-compatible bench for a private demonstration of his newest toys- complete with biometric feedback,

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings:  / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, SMUT… BDSM/Restraints/Bondage, custom tech ball gag, toys (Egg vibe, anal beads, dildo)  Overstimulation, Toy fucking/Machine-assisted thrusting, Filthy talk (Tony can't shut up), AI assists with data tracking, clinical observation, forced openness, Sensory overload

A/N: my entry for  @avengers-assemble-bingo  for April Kinky Bingo… Well this one turned into a whole thing.. Square: B2- Open Up Baby  Card Number: KB003

You were already strapped to the bench- back arched, thighs spread wide in glossy chrome stirrups, wrists bound snug in Stark-grade cuffs that didn’t budge an inch. The synthetic leather beneath you was cool against your skin, but your body was already starting to heat with anticipation. The bench itself shifted slightly with every movement, like it was reading your tension, calibrating every twitch of your muscles into data Tony could access later.

You could hear the soft hum of the room’s ambient systems, the low mechanical whirrs, the faint electric pulse of tech running in standby, and underneath it all, Tony’s voice. He hummed absently as he moved around you, flicking through translucent holoscreens that floated in the air, readable only to him. Light glinted off his arc reactor through the thin black shirt he wore, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, veins flexing with every subtle flick of his fingers.

He looked like a scientist. Or a surgeon. No, a goddamn artist.

“You look tense,” he murmured, stepping in close, his fingers grazing your jaw with a feather-light touch. “That won’t do. We need to get a clean read. No clenched teeth, no locked jaws. Just you- open and…relaxed.”

He held up a sleek piece of tech. A mix of leather and metal. To you it looked like a ball gag. That wasn’t just a gag. It was his gag. Something custom. Personal. Laced with Stark Industry Tech.

“Open up, baby. Gotta install the biometric reader. It’s not science without a baseline.”

You hesitated, lips twitching. Just for a second. But he didn’t push. He just waited you out, smirk deepening, one brow arched like he had all the time in the world. That cocky, knowing gaze made you squirm even before anything touched you. Your breath hitched. And then you parted your lips.

“There we go,” he said, tone thick with approval as he slid the gag into place. It clicked against your teeth, snug and firm. A soft vibration flickered across your tongue as it locked in pushing the muscle down.

Friday’s voice chimed in overhead, calm and clinical.

“Gag calibration complete. Biometric sync active. Tracking vocal response, saliva levels, and tongue pressure.”

Tony leaned down, brushing his lips across your cheek in a whisper of a kiss. “Good girl. Now let’s get to work.”

He started with the egg.

Sleek. Silver. Pulsing faintly in his hand like it had a heartbeat of its own. The metal shimmered under the clinical lights, smooth and polished, shaped with the kind of precision that only Stark could deliver. He turned it over once, twice, like he was admiring a prized gadget- one that he was particularly proud of.

He showed it to you like a doctor unveiling a revolutionary new tool- calm, confident, deeply amused. Except this wasn’t a sterile exam room, and the look in his eyes wasn’t professional. His smirk told you he already knew what kind of mess this thing would reduce you to.

"This is your warm-up," he said, voice low and playful. "Phase One. Internal warming protocol. Testing receptivity. Calibration through heat and pulse response."

You whimpered into the gag. Of course you were excited- he’d been teasing you with this little 'demonstration' all week. Whispering promises in your ear, tapping out reminders on your thigh, dropping technical jargon laced with filth that left your core throbbing before he’d even touched you. Now that it was finally happening, your whole body was buzzing with need.

He didn't wait. He moved closer, one gloved hand parting your thighs a little further, the other settling between them. The bench adjusted beneath you, lifting your hips another inch to meet his touch perfectly. His fingers dipped between your folds- testing your wetness, teasing you just enough to make your body jerk in its bonds.

"Already responsive," he muttered, half to himself, half to Friday. "She’s going to be a dream to log."

He slid the egg in with two fingers, slow and deliberate. The cool metal kissed your entrance, making you flinch slightly- it was colder than you expected, stark contrast against your heated skin. Your walls instinctively tried to resist, clenching down, but his fingers were patient, coaxing you open, parting you around the sleek, unyielding toy.

The egg slid upward, heavy and smooth. As it moved deeper, your body yielded to it, the slow stretch making your breath catch. Its contours were designed to press into every sensitive spot, and you could feel your muscles fluttering around it, trying to accommodate the sudden fullness. As he pushed it deeper, you could feel every inch of it being swallowed by your body, your slick muscles tightening, fluttering around the intrusion.

He pushed the egg up high inside you, then paused, his finger still inside you too. "Squeeze for me," he ordered. You did, instinctively, your walls closing down as you used your pelvic floor, and Tony gave the platic string attached a soft tug.

The stretch, the resistance- it was delicious. The egg stayed locked in place. You couldn’t push it out if you tried. He smiled, clearly pleased.

"Perfect. Secure fit," he murmured. "Wouldn’t want it popping out mid-test."

It settled deep inside you, a sinful throb blooming in your core. Then it pulsed- just once, a quick flutter that made you jolt.

"There we go," he breathed, watching the screen light up with new data. "Didn’t even turn it on yet and she’s already going. Fuck, I love this job."

You were barely processing the first toy when he reached for the second.

Beads. Tapered, growing in size, each one gleamed under the soft blue lighting like tiny pieces of futuristic art. You squirmed, thighs pressing together, but it was no use- Stark had seen your reaction.

Tony laughed- low and delighted.

"Didn’t know we were going there, huh?" He nudged your knees apart again, voice dipping to a darker octave. "Come on, baby. I want you to open up for me. Let’s see what this one does..."

You shook your head slightly. Whimpered into the gag. Wide eyes watching him as you tried to protest around the ball gag in your mouth. 

Tony turned to the tray beside him, selecting a small, frost-blue tube of gel. "Wouldn't be very considerate to skip prep," he muttered, more to himself than to you. He uncapped the tube and squeezed a slow, deliberate line of the slick, glistening substance along the length of the beads. The gel shimmered faintly under the light, warming as it reacted with the ambient temperature.

He coated each bead carefully, fingers moving with methodical ease, making sure the entire string was evenly slicked. "Lubricated. Body-safe. Custom formula," he said with a wink. "Slippery enough to slide in smooth- sticky enough to stay in place until I say otherwise."

Then he held the beads up for you to see, the string dangling between his fingers. You tensed instinctively.

"Oh no. You’re freezing up. Can’t test properly if you don’t behave. Legs. Open."

You didn’t.

Tony tsked, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. Then he grabbed your chin, firm and steady, tilting your head so your eyes locked with his.

"Don't think so much. That’s not what good test subjects do."

Click.

The bench tilted beneath you without warning. Your hips rolled upward, knees falling further apart as the restraints auto-adjusted. You were fully exposed now- helpless. Wide open.

"You know I can override those restraints, right? I built them. Now be a good girl and show me everything."

He dipped his finger back into the gel and brought it to your ass, pressing a cool dollop directly to your tight, puckered entrance. The sudden chill made you flinch, but it was followed by the warm glide of his fingertip as he gently teased the gel in slow circles.

"You tense here, too," he said, amused. "Don't worry. This formula warms up just like you do."

He rubbed it in carefully, working the gel into your rim with delicate, coaxing pressure. The sensation tingled- both from the temperature shift and the way his finger circled and pressed until your body finally began to relent.

Then he lowered the beads between your cheeks and began to press them in- one at a time. The first slid in easily, the gel working its magic, cool and slick. The second made your breath stutter. The third had your whole body tensing as your hole stretched just enough to accommodate the new pressure.

Each one pulled a different, desperate noise from you- somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, caught in the back of your throat and forced through the gag in broken fragments.

By the time the third bead settled inside you, you felt full. Stretched in ways that left you panting, your back arching hard off the bench. Everything was working together- the deep pressure of the egg nestled high in your core, the hum beginning to buzz through your clit like a phantom, and now the slow, firm intrusion of the beads pressing against nerves that had you seeing stars. You struggled to catch your breath, the gag forcing each inhale to be short and choppy. Air hissed through your nose while your mouth flooded with saliva, spit slipping from the corners of your lips in thick strands that slid down your neck and onto your chest. The overwhelming heat of arousal and frustration tangled in your gut, building like steam with nowhere to escape. The restraint of it made the fire inside you burn hotter.

Your muscles clenched involuntarily, your hips rocking against the air, chasing friction that didn’t come. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t beg. Just drool, tremble, and take everything he gave you.

"Mmm. That moan? That was bead three. She likes that one, Friday."

"Confirmed," the AI replied. "Pelvic floor tension rising. Heart rate increasing."

"Good. Means it’s working."

The egg began to heat. The beads hummed in sync, and you felt everything shift- internally and externally- as pleasure bled into pressure, and pressure into overload. You were trembling now, thighs twitching again, trying to close- but the bench held you wide, utterly exposed.

"Heart rate’s spiking..." Tony’s voice was pure, filthy glee. "Oh, she’s gonna break soon. Look at her squirm."

You rutted against the air, clit untouched and screaming for attention. Your walls fluttered around the egg, your ass clenching down against the beads as the different pulses overlapped and collided. It was all too much and somehow not enough. You needed more and needed it to stop, all at once.

You tried to breathe, but the gag made it impossible to take anything but shallow, panting gasps. Each exhale was laced with a moan. Drool spilled freely down your chin, dripping warm across your face and neck. You were flushed, messy, wrecked- and he hadn’t even touched your clit.

Your back arched violently off the bench, cords of heat coiling through your belly and thighs. It felt like your body was unraveling, muscles tight and desperate, nerve endings screaming with pleasure.

Tony leaned in again, voice dark and syrup-smooth. "We’ve got her plugged, egged, and ready to combust. Think she can handle the next phase?"

Friday answered, "Orgasm build-up at 87%."

"Perfect." He tapped a command into the air. "Now let’s push her."

The egg pulsed deeper. The beads vibrated sharper. You cried out- moaning, writhing, the gag muffling it into raw, incoherent noise. You couldn’t form words. Couldn’t beg. Just sob through the pressure building to a breaking point.

"Baby, this is science. Filthy, beautiful science."

It hit you like a wave- white-hot and all-consuming. Your legs shook violently in the stirrups, muscles spasming as your body locked around the egg and beads pulsing inside you. Every nerve ending fired in chaotic pleasure, overwhelming your senses. You tried to scream, to sob, but the gag reduced it to a shattered, strangled cry that vibrated through the tech, each desperate noise dutifully logged.

Drool spilled in long, wet strands down your chin as your back bowed hard off the bench, your whole body trembling under the assault of pleasure. Your cunt clenched tight around the egg, milking it involuntarily, while your ass throbbed with each hum of the vibrating beads. Everything inside you was pulsing, moving, grinding you down into submission.

Tony watched, transfixed, his gaze locked on your ruined, shaking form. “There she goes - God, I should patent that moan.”

Your eyes rolled back. You could barely breathe. You could only tremble and leak and convulse as the orgasm tore through you. The bench beneath you vibrated subtly with your body’s response.

Friday: "Orgasm confirmed."

Tony waited until you were trembling, your breathing uneven, your thighs still twitching with aftershocks that rippled through your overstimulated body. Sweat slicked your skin in a thin, glistening sheen, catching the light as your chest heaved with broken gasps around the gag. Your limbs strained weakly against the restraints.

Then- slowly, methodically- he reached between your cheeks and took hold of the first bead. He didn’t rush. He eased it out one at a time, each slick orb dragging along your inner walls with a sticky, stretching glide. You shuddered at the sensation- the unbearable emptiness that bloomed in the wake of each removal. Your ass clenched reflexively around the loss, trying to hold onto what had filled you so completely. But he kept going.

The final bead popped free with a slick, obscene sound. Your hips jolted involuntarily, your back arching once more as your body spasmed again, clinging to the ghost of sensation.

Friday's voice crackled overhead. "Anal pressure reduced. Sphincter still contracting. She’s experiencing post-orgasmic muscle spasms."

Then came the egg.

He curled his fingers inside you, tugging the retrieval loop with a firm, practiced motion. The egg slipped free, wet and shiny,  your cunt fluttering uselessly around the sudden void. The stretch, the drag, the warmth- it all left you aching. You cried into the gag, overwhelmed by the emptiness and the continued tremors in your muscles. Your thighs kicked slightly, your knees drawing in as far as the restraints would allow.

"Vaginal walls contracting. Core temperature still elevated. She's not done trembling yet," Friday observed, calm as ever.

Tony held both toys in one hand now- wet, warm, shining. He looked down at you with naked satisfaction.

"That’s some damn good tech," he said. "But we’re not done."

From the tray, he lifted his final piece.

A dildo- sleek, deep grey, Stark-stamped at the base. Modeled after him, and you knew it. Maybe a little bigger. Slightly wider at the base, with delicate ridges along the underside that hinted at something extra. Your breath caught just looking at it.

“This one’s special, baby. Built it from memory- well, from yours,” Tony said, rolling it in his hand. “Temperature regulated, pressure-sensitive, and the best part? The internal sensors sync to your contractions. It responds to you. The more you clench, the deeper it drives. A perfect loop.”

You whimpered around the gag, heart fluttering.

He moved between your spread legs and lined it up against your soaked, fluttering entrance. You were already sensitive- still trembling from the last orgasm- and when the wide tip pressed in, you nearly cried. It stretched you slowly, steadily, a little more than you were used to. Your slick walls resisted at first, clenching down instinctively, but Tony was patient, guiding it with precise control.

“There you go,” he coaxed, voice smooth but sharp-edged with amusement. “That’s it. Take all of it. Come on, baby- I know you can..”

His tone dipped into a purr. “There you go. Taking it like you need it. Bet you love being filled up with Stark-grade tech, huh?”

Your back bowed off the bench as he pushed it in, inch by inch, your pussy yielding to every contour, forced to accommodate the full shape of it. The fullness was delious, your body stretched taut around it. Your eyes rolled back as the final ridge slipped inside, the toy settling deep.

“There,” he said, watching your reactions with fascination. “Fills you out just right. And now... we see what she can really do.”

The base clicked into a pulse pattern, and the toy began to move inside you- slow at first, deliberate, like it was learning your shape. You could feel every textured ridge of the shaft as it rubbed against your inner walls, dragging across oversensitive flesh, sparking little detonations of pleasure with every pass.

Then it pulsed- long and low, a rhythmic thrum that radiated from base to tip, sending heat spiraling through your belly. With every thrust, the toy seemed to stretch you deeper, nudging a spot that made your toes curl and your thighs twitch against the restraints. Your pussy clenched around it reflexively, triggering the internal sensors Tony had mentioned. And just like that, the toy responded- pressing harder, thrusting deeper, faster.

It wasn’t just fucking you- it was reading you, syncing to the wild flutter of your muscles, pulsing in tandem with your arousal.

“Look at her,” Tony murmured, grinning as he watched the toy disappear again and again between your legs. “Every little squeeze makes it work harder. You’re doing this to yourself, baby. And I haven’t even touched your clit yet.”

You’d been so consumed by the thrusting inside you, by the stretch and pulse of the toy, that you hadn’t even noticed Tony move. But suddenly, he was there- looming over you, and the egg was pressed directly to your clit.

The sensation was immediate and brutal.

Your entire body jolted. The contact felt almost painful, your nerves raw and exposed, the stimulation electric. You tried to buck away, hips arching, thighs trembling, but you had nowhere to go.

Tony caught you effortlessly. One hand shoved the egg against your swollen clit, refusing to relent, while the other pressed down on your thigh to keep your knees from closing.

“Uh uh. None of that,” he said smoothly. “You don’t get to hide from this, baby. You earned it.”

You sobbed into the gag, thrashing your hips side to side, but the bench and Tony’s hands made escape impossible. Every attempt to squirm just sent the dildo thrusting deeper inside you, and the egg grinding cruelly over your clit.

“You’re not gonna break,” he whispered, teasing. “You’re gonna burn for me.”

"Don’t you dare run from it. look at me."

He was holding you still- one hand clamped over your thigh to keep your legs spread, the other pressing the egg mercilessly to your clit. You were trembling in his grasp, utterly helpless against the merciless pairing of his tech and his control.

"You’re gonna come again for me, sweetheart. Real data’s in the repeat response," he said, eyes locked on yours, voice both commanding and hungry.

The dildo thrust deep, the ridges grinding against your most sensitive spots as your walls clamped down. The egg buzzed brutally against your swollen clit, so overstimulated you couldn’t tell whether you were trying to run from it or chase it. Every jolt of pleasure lit your nerves like lightning- white-hot and impossible to hold back.

Your body jerked, hips spasming, thighs trembling violently as the sensations overloaded you. Your entire body was working against you- every clench, every twitch, every gasp just triggered the toy to go deeper, harder, faster. You weren’t riding it anymore- it was riding you, and Tony just watched with that devilish smirk, keeping you wide open.

“That's it. Shake for me. Scream into that gag. Show me what science can do.”

The climax tore through you without mercy- harder, deeper, a violent unraveling of every nerve as your body convulsed around the relentless rhythm of the tech inside you. You didn’t just come; you shattered, splintering open in a release so intense it blurred your vision, your mind, your ability to distinguish pleasure from pain. Your vision shattered into sparks, your scream muffled into a raw, hoarse noise behind the gag. Your body thrashed in the restraints, muscles locking as the orgasm ripped through you, longer and sharper than the last.

Friday: "Second orgasm confirmed. Neural spike significant. Subject approaching physical limit."

He slowed the toy, letting it ease to a stop deep inside you before withdrawing it carefully, letting you feel every last ridge dragging along your raw, overstimulated walls. Then, with a gentleness that almost contrasted the torment he’d just put you through, he removed the egg from your clit. The instant the contact broke, your whole body sagged in the restraints with relief and exhaustion. You were shaking, barely breathing- every inch of you buzzing, nerves fried and twitching from the overload.

You could taste salt on your lips- your own tears and spit, your jaw aching from clenching around the gag. You were drenched, body glistening with sweat, your skin flushed and hypersensitive to the air.

He removed the gag last. Your jaw fell slack with a wet, trembling gasp, strands of spit clinging to the corners of your mouth. You blinked up at him, vision hazy, lips wet and parted.

Tony gazed down at you, eyes gleaming with wicked satisfaction, his mouth tugging into a crooked grin that said told you so. He looked like a man admiring his finest creation- smug, yes, but also thoroughly entertained by the glorious, twitching mess sprawled out beneath him.

“You did good, baby. Fucking beautiful. But next time?”

He leaned close, brushing a kiss to your temple- slow, deliberate, his breath warm against your damp skin.

“Think I’ll need to design something that gets you to squirt. Can’t let a variable like that go untested. Wouldn’t be very Stark of me to stop now, would it?”

He turned with a little flourish, tapping the screen with a flick of his fingers, not bothering to look back.

“Friday, save this session. Label it: Successful. Prepare files for Phase Two.”

[angelltheninth]

You know how guys have the happy trail? What do you think the MCU men's is like?

Gonna tell you something Anon, I love it when guys have that. It's cute and attractive.

Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Thor, Loki, James “Logan" Howlett, Remy Lebeau, Kurt Wagner, Tony Stark, Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, suggestive, body worship, teasing, muscles, established relationship

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Probably one of the most attractive things on guys. At least to me. Other than strong hands.

Steve keeps himself very neat, not really because of you, not at first, it's just a habit that he still has from his army days. That being said he didn't miss the way you look at him when he does it. He knows you're looking so he takes his time.

Bucky is a bit more clumsy with it since losing his arm. His new one is good but it's cold on his skin when he needs to groom himself and be nice. But... maybe you can give him a hand when he needs it.

Clint doesn't bother with it much because he doesn't have much of a visible happy trail. It is there when you really look or run your hand down his abs. That being said he doesn't quite see why you like it so much, it's just body hair.

Thor never quite cared to keep himself overly well groomed or to cut down on any body hair. When he tried his hair grew back rougher, which you can feel as you touch his stomach. To him it was never something he had to think about, besides you like it.

Loki brags about how good he looks. Every part of him, even the happy trail which he always keeps well maintained. As he gets ready for bed he might take it slower, to give you time to look.

Logan has always been covered in a lot of rough, bushy hair and his happy trail is no different. For him it's like a path that you can follow as you kiss his body. In fact he has referred to it as that numerous time, making you blush at the implications.

Remy often gets asked if his hair is red everywhere, and yes it is. He chuckles when he tells you that you should check for yourself. Despite how he may seem he does keep himself well trimmed, from his belly all the way down.

Kurt does have a bit more hair there and it's quite soft and fluffy. It's one of the rare parts on his body that's not as cold as the rest of him. But it is quite dark, almost black in contrast with his blue skin.

Tony wants you to look at him as he gets changed. He wears his pants a bit lower when he knows he can work from home. Seeing you ready to kiss every inch of him won't make work easier.

Peter has a happy trail but it's a bit sparse. He doesn't have much body hair on his belly and is a bit ticklish when you touch him there. It's one of his weaknesses so he always blushes when you do it.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Kiss The Girl ~ Tony's Version

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / MUSICAL INSPIRED FIC MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Word Count: 840ish

Request: Natasha hacking into Jarvis and making him okay Kiss The Girl every damn time Tony and reader are in the same room together because everyone can see Tony's in love with her (except for herrrr) (and she loves him too, he's just kinds blind too lol). And Tony just being like "uhhhhhhj idk what's going on, there's something wrong with jarvis, he's all messed up" and threatening to burn his motherboard if he doesn't stop making every interaction he has with her awkward because of the damn song. And eventually he's like scolding Jarvis and being like "what the fuck do I do to make you stop, I've rewritten the codes, everything, just STOP" and Natasha walks in like "hmmmm idk maybe if you like ya know kissed the girl, he'd stop with the music". Eventually they do kiss, which prompts a soft "well, my job here is done 😌" from Jarvis lol

Notes: Sorry this is so short! Hopefully, people still like it!

“Close your mouth, Stark,” Natasha said, “you’re drooling everywhere.”

“I am not!” Tony argued.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She took another sip of her drink as she watched Tony watch you. You had just found your way to the pool, where all the other team members were already. “Why don’t you just make a move already? Everyone can see that you are head over heels for her. Well… everyone but her.”

“I’m not head over heels. I’m… barely head.”

Natasha laughed. “You’re ridiculous, Stark. Truly ridiculous. Where did that confident, playboy man go?”

“He’s right here.”

“Then go talk to her.”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Tony ignored Natasha and watched as you headed over to a chair near Bucky and Steve’s chairs. You smiled and laughed as you joined their conversation. Tony glared, gripping his drink tighter.

“Careful there, Stark,” Natasha teased. “You may turn green with jealousy.”

“Leave me alone, Red,” he grumbled, standing up and heading over to you. Despite you wearing a swimsuit, Tony’s eyes couldn’t pull away from your face. Your smile always mesmerized him. As he grew closer, your smiled turned his way.

“Hey, Tones,” you greeted, making him feel like he was your favorite person.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied.

You smiled at him— bright, beautiful, and dazzling. And just as he was about to sit down next you—

“There you see her

Sitting there across the way”

Tony froze. His smile died and his should briefly left his body.

“JARVIS…” he muttered.

“Sir?” JARVIS replied far too innocently.

“You’re playing The Little Mermaid soundtrack.”

“I was under the impression it fit the moment.”

Bucky snorted into his drink. Steve tired not to laugh. You, though, looked around confused.

“Wait,” your brain was slowly catching up. “Was that Kiss the Girl?”

“Nope,” Tony replied a little too loudly. “Definitely not. It was a malfunction. A total glitch. JARVIS has been… weird lately.”

“Perhaps you should consider the possibility that your AI has taste,” Natasha chimed in, walking past with a smirk. “I, for one, think it’s very romantic.”

Tony gave her a look that could have melted vibranium. “You did this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She winked. “Maybe you should just kiss the girl and see if it stops.”

“I— You— Ugh!” And then Tony stormed off.

“Tony?” You called after him, but didn’t chase him, still confused about the entire situation.

~~~

The next day, you entered the lab with a notebook in hand. 

“Hey, Tones,” you said, “I had an idea for a new Arc—“

“Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do…”

Tony slammed his wrench on his work bench. “Okay!”

You blinked. “What?”

“JARVIS has a virus. That’s what this is. A musical virus. He’s obsessed with sea creatures and romance, it’s a whole… thing.”

“Sir,” JARVIS interrupted, “the statistical likelihood of a romantic confession leading to a successful partnership—“

“MUTE.” Tony turned a dangerous shade of red. “I will literally strip your entire code. Don’t test me.”

You tilted your head. “You okay, Tony?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Fine. Just fine.”

~~~

Three days later…

Tony had reprogrammed JARVIS and created a firewall just for musical cues. One that he hoped that Natasha herself couldn’t even break. He walked into the kitchen where you were laughing with Bruce. When you noticed him, you smiled widely.

“Sha-la-la-la-la-la, don’t be scared…”

Tony dropped the coffee pot. “WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO?!” He yelled at the ceiling. “I HAVE REWRITTEN YOUR ENITRE SYSTEM—“

“Uh, Tony?” Bruce cleared his throat. “You’re yelling at your AI again.”

“YES. Because he’s clearly possessed by some cursed musical spirit!”

Natasha strolled in, sipping her tea like she hadn’t a care in the world. “Hmm. Or you could just kiss her.”

Tony spun. “No! You don’t just kiss someone like her. She’s not a casual kiss girl. She’s a ‘ruin-your-life-in-the-best-way’ kind of girl. If I screw this up, I don’t just lose a kiss. I lose her.”

“Tony?” You called softly.

He clenched his eyes shut. He had forgotten that you were still in the room. Slowly, he turned to face you. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Uh, all of it. I was sitting right here.”

“Awesome. I’m just going to—“

“Wait!” You crossed the kitchen and grabbed his wrist before he could scramble away. “I guess it’s a good thing that I’m a ‘ruin-your-life-in-the-best-way’ kind of girl who wants to kiss you too.”

His heart stopped betting for a moment. “Wait, really?”

“Really.”

“…Huh.” He stepped closer. “I mean, if it’ll shut JARVIS up.”

You leaned in. “That’s as good a reason as any.”

And then you kissed him, slowly, sweet, and perfect.

“You gotta kiss the girl…”

“JARVIS!”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please, keep going.”

You giggled, head coming to rest on Tony’s shoulder. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“I agree.” Tony swept you up and over his shoulder.

“Tony!”

“Sorry, now that we’ve kissed, you have to put up with romantic-as-all-hell-while-being-extremely-cheesy-Stark.”

[mercurial-chuckles]

Sappy Sunday Thought!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Warnings: Sap | Overloaded fluff | Language | Bucky being such a little shit Word Count: ~500 A/N: My hubby and I went to a friend's house for dinner. They have a three-year-old boy who is absolutely adorable. When I knelt down to greet him with our usual high-five and fist bump, he blushed and shyly looked away. They told me the little guy has a massive crush on me! He talks about me all day, asking when I'll come over and waiting eagerly. My poor heart! 😍💕🥹🫠 Even on his dad's birthday recently, he apparently asked when my birthday was. It completely melted my heart. So darn cute! Not to mention, my hubby playfully glared at him and told him he couldn't marry me because I belong to him. The poor kid almost cried, and it took both me and his parents to pacify him afterward! The whole ordeal sparked a little blurb idea for me! 💕🤭 Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! GIF credits to @upcomingactress Divider credits to @buck-star Thank you :) Check out my other works: Masterlist

If you wanna read more, here's a follow-up: Bucky Barnes vs Ethan Stark

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

Indulge Away!

"Stop it, Bucky," you warned, pulling the tiny form of Ethan away from your husband's arms.

"Hey," Bucky snickered, swatting your arm away from the kid playfully.

"NO. NO," Ethan yelled, clinging tightly to your knee, making everyone around you laugh.

"Oh, now you're just being mean, boy. Leave her alone. She's mine," Bucky said, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

"MAMAAAA!" Ethan shouted, his voice surprisingly loud for a three-year-old.

"It's okay, baby. Uncle Bucky is only joking," Pepper cooed from the other end of the living room, gently fixing Morgan's hair.

"Yes, Ethan, Uncle Bucky's just having fun. Right, Bucky?" you asked, throwing a warning glance his way. All your husband did was shrug and flash you a bright smile.

"No, I'm not. You can't have her, Ethan. That's that," Bucky whispered, further aggravating Ethan's plight. You responded with a not-so-light punch to his right bicep, but he only chuckled, leaning closer to kiss your cheek.

Ethan was on the verge of wailing, so you turned, picked him up, and sat him on your other side. Tony approached, leaning down to meet his son's eyes.

"You've got no chill, Bucky," you muttered over your shoulder.

"Tell you what," Tony began, drawing Ethan's attention. "We can always get Beebee to fight Uncle Bucky and keep her with us," he said. Ethan instantly brightened and looked to you for confirmation.

"Sounds good to me," you whispered to Ethan, earning an enthusiastic fist bump from the now-happy toddler.

"Now, who in the world is Beebee, Stark?" Bucky asked, frowning.

"Let's not tell him, yeah?" Tony replied, winking at Ethan as he lifted him into his arms. "Keep watching over your shoulder, buddy," Tony added, walking away.

"Buddy, Beebee's comin'," Ethan echoed over Tony's shoulder in his adorable little voice.

You turned to Bucky, giggling at his half-exasperated, half-stunned expression.

"Seriously? I can't have you roaming outside our home with a STARK-LEVEL PROBLEM," Bucky groaned, emphasizing the last part as he shouted after Tony and Ethan.

Leaning in, Bucky pecked your lips and whispered, "What the fuck is Beebee?"

"It's the giant bot Tony's been working on," you replied.

Bucky rolled his eyes, scoffing at the idea of a massive robot chasing him off just so Tony's son could kidnap you.

"I'd like to see it try," he muttered.

If you wanna read more, here's a follow-up: Bucky Barnes vs Ethan Stark

This is a part of ♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

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[nicoline1998enilocin]

Love under the fireworks || NYE Special ✨

PAIRING || Fiancé! Tony Stark x Fiancée! Female! Reader

WORDCOUNT || 6.6K

SUMMARY || You’re spending your last night together for a while, as Tony will be leaving for an extended, undercover mission, and you’ll be busy with near back-to-back surgeries for the foreseeable future. This means you and Tony will make this New Year’s Eve one for the memory books, giving you some special memories to look back on when you’re apart.

RATING || Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS || Former sugar daddy/-baby relationship, established relationship, explicit sexual content, light angst (tearful goodbyes).

SMUT || Teasing - Edging - Use of a remote control vibrator - Referenced exhibitionism - Oral (F receiving) - ass worship - Daddy kink - marking - spanking - light anal play - fingering - multiple orgasms - dirty talk - hair pulling - back scratches - pregnancy kink - breeding kink - lovemaking - nipple play - unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) - cream pie - cockwarming - size kink - innocence kink - lactation kink - marking

A/N || This can be read as a standalone or a follow-up to Our Christmas. Thank you all for the support and love I received from you all last year, and I'm looking forward to sharing more stories with you all this upcoming year! I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for everything you do for me. From your support, love, and proofreading to your listening to everything I go through, I'm deeply thankful for it all. I love you, bestie! 🤍

EVENTS @fandombingo || Walking around with a vibrator remote-controlled by someone else @fandom-free-bingo Book Night || Fireflies @fandom-free-bingo Book Night || "Just trust me." @fandom-free-bingo Frosty || Dick pic @fandom-free-bingo Maritime May || 'People fall in love in mysterious ways'

@fandom-free-bingo Maritime May || Secret vibrator + "You're not hungry?" @fandom-free-bingo Pride || Gagging + Spanking @fandom-free-bingo Wild || Exhibitionist + Ass worship @fictionaldelightsbingo Under The Sea || First kiss of the year @julybreakbingo Post-JBB || "I need your help."

@seasonaldelightsbingo Sweater Season || Praising someone who isn't used to good things @slumberpartybingo Ultimate Sleepover || Would you rather... wear a sex toy in public OR in private @tonystarkbingo #8005 || Regrets

All the graphics in this post are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Sugar Daddy! Tony Stark

“Are you ready to see the dress?” Your voice rises in excitement as you’re going to show your fiancé the black off-shoulder dress he bought not too long ago. Before now, he has not seen it on you because you wanted to keep it a surprise until tonight, though you’re sure he will not be disappointed when it is revealed. He has the best taste in clothes and accessories, and even though you’re more than capable of buying those things yourself, he still likes to gift you things now and again, just like when you were still his sugar baby.

A chuckle is audible before his answer floats through the air, impatience evident in how he answers that he ‘was born ready’ so quickly. Shortly after, your large walk-in closet door creaks open to reveal Tony in an all-black, tight suit with red-tinted glasses and his hair looking perfectly messy. Tonight, he looks like sex-on-legs, and you can’t wait to unwrap him like a present after the dinner he is treating you to. Every ridge and muscle of his perfect body is on display, and you can’t help but bite your bottom lip when your gaze is drawn to his bulge, displayed nicely between his thick thighs.

“Fuck-” he gasps as his lust-filled gaze takes his time to look all over your body. From the way the dress brushes the floor around your heels to the split that runs to the middle of your thigh and from the curves of your body to the way that your breasts are looking elegantly lifted, he cannot get enough of the sight. The dress is sinfully sexy without giving too much away, 

“Are you sure we don’t have to cancel dinner? I’d do it without a second thought,” he whispers between the small kisses he leaves on your shoulder and neck, his hands on your waist as he stands behind you. You shake your head with a small smile, even though the thought is very appealing. The only thing that keeps you from agreeing is that tonight will be your last night together for a few months. Tony will leave for an undercover mission tomorrow, and you’re looking forward to having a beautiful dinner with him before he has to go.

“Let’s go to dinner tonight, Tony, and end the night by making love. I think we both would like to make it a night never to forget, especially with you leaving tomorrow.” Tony closes his eyes as he sighs softly against your skin, knowing you’re right about his mission. He has fought hard not to go, but in the end, it wasn’t enough as he still has to go, but he was able to push it off enough so he would be able to spend New Year’s Eve with you, and your first kiss of the year will be one of passion and memories, as you’ll make love under the fireworks.

As he breathes a small sigh against your skin, he can hide his smile as he thinks about what he has planned for you tonight - if you accept his offer. With one more soft kiss against his skin, he steps back before grabbing a small velvet pouch out of the pocket of the pants he’s wearing - inside lying something that will make the evening unforgettable.

“What do you think of making the night a little… spicier?” Tony asks as he meets your gaze in the mirror, your breath hitching slightly at his words. Based on the smirk he’s now portraying, you get a hunch about what the following words will be out of his mouth. If you’re thinking about the correct idea, you will be in for it, as you always love to experiment outside the bedroom, too.

“Hmm, you know I love some spice, Handsome. Let’s do it,” you say with a sultry wink, which sets his cheeks on fire as you turn around, his grip on the little bag quickly loosening as you take it from him. He’s left with rapidly tightening pants as you head to the bedroom to put in the little remote-controlled vibrator that’s inside the bag. It doesn’t take long for it to be comfortably nestled inside your warmth, your core already dripping at the thought of Tony controlling you in such a way.

As soon as you’re back, Tony is ready to go, and with every step you make, you’re highly aware that you’re walking around with a vibrator remote-controlled by someone else, and it sets your insides on fire in the best way possible. Downstairs, Happy is already waiting to drive you both to the restaurant and just as you’re about to greet him with a kiss on the cheek, Tony presses the button on the remote, making the bright pink toy come to life inside enough to make your cheeks burn.

“Are- are you okay?” Happy asks when you flinch, worry settling on his face as he inspects you. While he does, Tony quickly turns his face to try and hide a smile, though he’s not very successful at it. However, before you know it, the vibrating sensation is gone, and you’re left a little disappointed at the feeling it leaves you with - you want more of the vibrations and feelings it has to offer you.

“I’m fine, Happy. Thank you,” you smile before getting in the car, followed by Tony, wearing a satisfied smirk on his stunning features. As soon as the door falls shut, you immediately turn to your fiancé with a glare. Still, instead of saying anything, he leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth, once again leaving you wanting more, and you have a feeling that you’re going to feel this way more often than not tonight.

During the car ride, Tony has a gentle grip with his thick, strong fingers on your thigh while the other one clutches the remote to bring the secret vibrator inside you. A soft gasp is audible, and Tony smirks as he looks at you to see your reaction. The entire time, Happy is focused on the road ahead of you, and you’re grateful he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t let it show if he does. Either way, you’re positive that it will be a long night.

Without warning, the vibration disappears inside you, and you’re left with a thoroughly soaked pair of panties and a wanting pussy that cannot get enough of the stimulation the man beside you can bring you. The rest of the car ride goes off without a hitch, as Tony and Happy are talking amongst themselves as you clutch your thighs together, trying to get your mind off the toy inside you.

“Here’s our stop. Thank you for the ride, Happy - I’ll let you know when we’re done with dinner,” Tony says very matter-of-factly, and you hum in response as you’re not sure you can trust everything that might come out of your mouth now. Then, as soon as you’re out of the car, you can feel your legs giving out a little, making you hold onto Tony a little tighter.

“I- I need your help staying upright, I think,” you admit shyly, and Tony smiles proudly as he ensures you’re stable by his side before leading you into the restaurant. The hostess leads you to a table that gives you the ultimate view over Manhattan as the floor-to-ceiling windows offer a sight you’ll never get used to. You can spend hours watching the city even after being with Tony for years and moving into his penthouse.

Then, as you’re seated, Tony squeezes your hands softly. The gesture makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild as you look into his dark brown eyes, which look back at you with nothing short of pure love and admiration.

“In the past years, I’ve been asked often if I have any regrets, but I’ve always told them no until now. And it’s not falling in love with you or taking you here because you’re the best thing that ever could have happened to me, Sugar. As I’ve said before, I wouldn’t be where I am today without you, and I stand by that. The only thing I do regret is not asking you to marry me sooner. From the moment you and I met, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, and I wish I had asked you to be my wife sooner,” he tells you, bringing tears to your eyes as he does.

“When I grew up, my mom always told me that people fall in love in mysterious ways, and it took me meeting you to understand what she meant by that. You’ve shown me what true love is, and I’m happy to be spending this last night together with you. I will miss you so much when I’m gone for my mission, but I promise I will not leave you without saying a proper goodbye. And a dick pic or two.”

His face splits in a large grin as he says those last words, showing you both sides of the man you fell for. He can be the sweetest man you’ve ever met but is also a massive joker when moments call for it. It makes him perfect in your eyes, and you can’t imagine him being any other way. It doesn’t take long for one of the waiters to bring you a glass of the finest champagne they offer and take your food order for the night, and you’ve opted to go for your favorite seafood pasta to end the year off on a high note.

“Cheers to being in love,” you say as you raise your glass, and Tony approves with a hum and a smile before clinking his glass against yours and taking a sip of the golden, bubbly liquid. 

It isn’t until you’re about to take the first bite of the pasta you ordered that Tony suddenly turns the vibrator inside you back on, and a surprised noise escapes your lips before you put your hand over your mouth to cover it up. As you look at him with squinted eyes, he smiles back at you with a bright smile that lets you know he’s enjoying every second of the teasing.

“What’s wrong? You’re not hungry?” Tony’s brow quirked up as the question hung between you two, unable to be answered. He turns the power up a notch, quickly followed by another. While one hand is still over your mouth, the other is gripping your thigh for dear life as your climax is quickly building, but just before it can push you over the edge, it stops. Again. Deep down inside, you know it will be worth every second when you two get back to the penthouse, and you can finally have the pleasure you’re so deeply desiring.

The entire time this is going on, there are people around you eating and enjoying their dinner, too, which primarily feeds the exhibitionist side of your fiancé. Still, you’re happy to indulge him in moments like this. Because as much as he does for you - he’s more than willing to go to the moon and back for you if that’s what you’re asking of him -you’re happy to do just as much for him and his pleasure. There hasn’t been anything you haven’t been willing to do for him, and tonight is no different.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you say with a small smile as you eye your pasta, the smell of it making your mouth water. Thankfully, Tony happily lets you finish your pasta with only a few moments when he puts the vibrator on the lowest setting, but not high enough for you to be unable to enjoy your food. As soon as you’re both finished eating, you’re making your way to Happy as he is waiting by the car outside, excited to go back to your shared penthouse and finally relieve the tension that has been building between you both for the entire evening.

Just before you and Tony arrive at the penthouse, he gets a text from Natasha telling him everything is ready for their night and to ‘’not have too much fun together ;)” which makes him chuckle as the elevator takes you two up to the penthouse. Inside, there’s a trail of bright red rose petals that lead to the bedroom, accompanied by candles and fairy lights everywhere, making the penthouse look like it’s decorated with fireflies. The bathroom is also set up for you both to enjoy after your night of passion, and all you have to do is let go of every thought you have and let Tony take the lead for the rest of the night.

“Welcome home, Sugar,” Tony whispers in your ear as the elevator doors open, and you see everything your best friend has arranged for you. His fingers dig into your hips as he leads you into the hallway over the path of rose petals, and he can’t stop smiling as you’re taking in everything. Your eyes are pulled from one thing right to the next, and before you know it, you’re in the bedroom. Tony slowly loses his patience as he tries to stop himself from ripping every last bit of fabric off your body.

“God, I can’t fucking wait to see how much you’re dripping for me, Sugar. I’ve prepared your pretty little pussy very well for me, and I will have a feast soon,” he says as he lets your dress fall to the floor, his lips placing soft kisses on your neck and shoulder. Your head falls to the side as an almost automatic response to his lips on you, and you’re looking forward to everything he’s going to give you. 

“Now, get on your hands and knees on the bed so Daddy can have his dessert,” he growls in your ear, his fingers gliding over the bitemark he left a few days ago. While it’s mostly faded, he can still see some of the indents his teeth left as a proud smile lies on his lips. You’re looking forward to getting more of his marks on your body - and putting some on him, too.

He doesn’t waste any time by unhooking or pulling down any of your lingerie, instead choosing to rip it off and replace it later, as he couldn’t care less about that. However, he does instruct you to keep the vibrator in for now, as he’s planning to put it to some good use as he finally gets to taste you and see how wet he has gotten you from the anticipation of this moment. And he’s not disappointed in the slightest.

The moment he sees you on your hands and knees - your ass positioned as high as possible with your legs slightly spread - he gets the perfect view of the bright pink toy settled neatly in your dripping folds, as well as the way your ass looks like the juiciest peach he’s ever seen. He intends to have a lot of fun with you tonight. An appreciative groan rumbles from his chest as he quickly gets undressed as well, and you hear the unmistakable splat of his thick, long cock against his stomach as the precum is already making a mess of him.

Your eyes are closed in anticipation of what’s coming, but you’re not even close to expecting what Tony does next as you feel a large hand coming down on your ass, the smacking sound echoing through your penthouse. It’s quickly followed on the other cheek as well, and you’re clenching the toy inside you as the pleasurable burn of the spanks settles.

“Looking so beautiful for me, you’re such a fucking beauty,” Tony says as his hands soothe the warmed flesh of your ass, taking his time to get reacquainted with them again. While he always loves marking your ass, he’s now going to make an effort to add in some ass worship, too, as every inch of you deserves to be worshipped. Your body instinctively pushes back into his touch, seeking out more as you enjoy the attention you’re getting from him. As you feel one of his hands leave your skin, you’re left with a bit of disappointment, but it doesn’t last long as you suddenly feel the vibrations return, and this time, Tony isn’t planning on slowing down anytime soon.

“D-Daddy,” you exclaim as the pleasure immediately builds again, your arousal dripping off the toy and onto the sheets you’re positioned on. As your fiancé takes his place behind you on the mattress, he leans in to place a few kisses on the reddened skin where he can see his handprints, his fingers gathering some of the arousal and spreading it over your puckered hole, earning a surprised gasp.

“It’s okay, Sugar. Just trust me, okay? I’m not going to do anything you can’t handle,” he reassures you as he gently works his thumb over the tight muscle. As soon as the words settle into your fuzzy mind, he can feel you relax underneath him, as you trust him completely. The entire time he does this, your mind drifts to this one memory of you two where you’re sucking him so deep and demanding that you’re gagging around his length, and it only adds to your arousal.

“God, I can’t wait to get a taste of this pussy,” Tony whispers before he gently presses the tip of his thumb into your tight ass, a gasp leaving your lips as your brows furrow, though it immediately sends you over the edge, too. Combined with the vibrator that’s nestled inside and happily buzzing away and the way he built your climax earlier in the evening, it took minimal effort for you to fall over the edge of pleasure for the first time tonight.

“That is, you’re doing so well for me, Sugar. Such beautiful girl when you cum for Daddy,” Tony praises you through it, your entire body shaking as you can’t stop moaning and cumming around the toy. Just as it’s to border on overstimulation, he pulls the vibrator out of you and throws it on the bed to replace it with his thick fingers, quickly pulling your second orgasm from you as well.

“Fuck- Look at you cumming for Daddy like a good girl! That’s it, ride my fingers like the little slut you are!” Your hips move back and forth on his fingers to get as much pleasure as you can, your body moving in a sloppy rhythm as you’re being worked through cumming so soon, one after the other. When you’ve worked through your high, Tony pulls his fingers out of you before leaning over you and letting you lick them clean, allowing you to taste your arousal.

“Hmm.” The soft hum is audible as you clean his fingers, happy to have something in your mouth. When you’re done, Tony praises you more before helping you to lie down on your back and your head on the pillows, and he reaches to put a pillow beneath your hips, too. When you’ve found your position, he gets comfortable on his stomach, his achingly hard cock trapped between his sheets and his stomach as he’s taking his rightful place between your thighs.

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod before letting your fingers glide into his hair and guiding him to your willing pussy. You can feel his hot breath on your sensitive clit as he leans in, your back arching into the feeling as a ripple of pleasure goes through your entire body. Tony wraps his strong arms around your thighs to keep you in place before diving in like a starved man.

From sucking on your sensitive clit to licking up every last drop of your arousal, not a single inch of you is left untouched as he takes his time eating you out like it’s the last time he’ll ever do this. As if he wants to commit every last inch of you to memory. The entire time, you’re pulling on his hair to guide him where you need him most, and when you’re getting close to your orgasm again, you’re burying your fingers even deeper in his hair to pull him impossibly closer.

Deep groans are audible together with the delicious sounds of Tony enjoying you as his dessert, and your fiancé can’t help but rut his hips against the sheets for any friction he can get to relieve some of the tension that’s been building inside him, too.

“D-Daddy! I’m so- close!” Your voice pitches near the end as Tony lets one of your legs go in favor of using his fingers to massage the sweet spot inside you as his lips wrap around your clit, bringing you to your next high of the evening with a very loud shout of his name. While he’s working you through your high, he cums, too, as the pressure inside him has been building constantly and is finally reaching its tipping point.

“Fuck, you made me cum with you, Sugar! Such a delicious pussy, and your sweet noises made me make a mess of myself for you,” he says in a breath voice. He has crawled upwards to lie next to you and pull you into his arms, wanting to have you as close as possible as you’re both basking in the afterglow of everything that has brought you both to this point.

“I love it when you’re messy, Daddy,” you tell him softly, and Tony smiles in agreement.

“I do, too, Sugar. You’re the only one who can make this much of a mess for me without even trying.” He gently positions your head onto his shoulder, and your hand lies over his arc reactor as your eyes fall shut for a moment, the need for recovery strong enough to pull you into a light slumber in your fiancé’s arms. He keeps tracing abstract figures on your soft skin; he doesn’t want to let you go now. He’ll worry about the mess he has made of himself later.

While you were peacefully sleeping, Tony called one of the many robots that make your life in the penthouse as easy as possible. He brought some wet wipes to clean himself off before pulling you closer and putting the blanket over the two of you. Then, as the clock is nearing 11.15 PM, he gently wakes you with soft kisses on your head and gentle strokes of his fingers over your cheek, bringing you back to reality gently. A soft groan is audible as you slowly wake up again, and Tony can’t help but smile at the cuteness that is you being woken up from a nap.

“Hi there, Princess. Did you have a good nap?”

“Hmmm, yeah. I wish it could’ve been longer, though.” Sleep is evident in your demeanor as you stretch yourself out, the blanket shifting a bit to reveal your bare breasts to the coldness of the room, resulting in hardened nipples that have an immediate attraction for Tony. Within seconds, his fingers are gently playing with your nipples to make them even harder, and you’re clenching your thighs together again as your arousal warms you from the inside out.

“Let me take care of you, Sugar. I want to make love to you and treat you like a true Queen for the rest of the night. I want to start the new year with you in my arms, and when buried inside you,” Tony whispers against your head while you push your chest against his hand for more. A soft please falls from your lips, and it’s all he needs to hear before he climbs over you, covering your much smaller body underneath his as he reaches for his thick, leaking cock.

“You’re so big, Daddy; are you sure it’ll fit?” You try to sound as innocent as you possibly can, much to his delight, and he can feel himself throb in his hand as he slowly strokes himself up and down, his thick fingers gliding over the sensitive veins before paying some special attention to his soft tip. His eyes slip shut as he bites his bottom lip, trying his hardest not to cum right away when you say things like that.

“Don’t worry for even a moment, Sugar. Daddy will be very gentle with you, and it’ll fit beautifully like we’re made for one another. I promise.” His words are sealed with a peck on your lips, and when you’re busy melting from his sweet words, he lines up with your dripping entrance, arousal already making a mess of the sheets again.

As Tony takes his time working himself into you, some fireworks are already going off outside despite it not even being midnight yet. Still, it perfectly conveys how you’re feeling - like fireworks go off between you two with every passing second. Tony takes his time working every inch of his length inside of you; your gazes are locked the entire time so he can see your face with every roll of his hips, with every inch you’re taking of him. Neither of you is in a hurry, and Tony plans to make this moment last as long as possible.

“I love you, I fucking love you!” The words are emphasized with every stroke, and soon, he’s nestled deep inside you, his pelvis flush against your body as his balls are full and aching to be emptied deep inside you. He shifts his weight so he’s leaning on one arm, allowing the other one to move freely over your stomach and breasts, looking to play with your nipples again.

“How did I ever get so lucky, hm? To have a woman like you in my life, who I love unconditionally, who’s making me a better man with everything I do? Who said yes to marrying me? And who I fuck wherever, whenever and however I want?” He smirks as the last sentence rolls off his tongue, an uncontrolled moan slipping out as it does.

“I-I’m the lucky one, Daddy,” you tell him as your fingers glide over his cheeks and into his hair, pulling him in for a much-needed, passionate kiss. As soon as your lips collide, Tony sets a slow pace that has you soon seeing stars, and it doesn’t take long for your climaxes to build again. Each time he hits your sweet spot deep inside, you can’t help but tug on his hair in a reflex, and he groans each time you do.

“You are very lucky, Sugar. Especially when I fuck every last drop of my cum inside you until you’re fucking pregnant with my baby. Gonna look so beautiful with your big belly and massive boobs- Are you gonna let me drink from you?” Without thinking, you exclaim a loud yes to his question, as you want nothing more than to carry his baby.

“Hmmm, that’s it, Gorgeous. Taking my cock so well for me,” he praises you, and it’s making your cheeks feel warm as he does. Before meeting Tony, you weren’t exactly used to much praise, but he isn’t either, and you can’t get enough of praising someone who isn’t used to good things. It’s undoubtedly been a process for you both, but now you’re more than happy to hear him tell you how good you feel and how well you’re doing for him. With every bit of praise, he feels you pulling his hair again, but it still isn’t enough, and he needs more.

“I need you to pull harder, Sugar, harder,” he orders, and you do as he asks while he sets an even faster pace, the bed now rocking back and forth as he does. Every last bit of self-control has gone out the window as you pull his hair with one hand, your nails raking down his back with the other as you’re clenching around his cock like a vice before arching your back and experiencing your last orgasm of the year.

“FUCK!” is all Tony exclaims as he pumps you full of every last drop of the cum that he’s been saving for you, and it’s so much that it’s already leaking out of you before he even has the chance to pull out. Your eyes roll back into your head with every stroke he makes, your nails digging even harder as you moan uncontrollably from the pleasure he’s bringing you.

“I have to say, I think this might be our best New Year’s Eve yet,” he says with a smile while catching his breath, his face tucked into your neck while you’re wrapped around him like a little koala bear. Mindful not to crush you, he pulls out gently before rolling on his back and pulling you with him, allowing you to catch your breath on top of him.

When you’ve finally caught your breath, Tony offers to tuck you in while he runs a bath for you both - knowing full well that Natasha has prepared everything short of filling the tub, and before you know it, he’s back to lift you over there. The rest of the night, you don’t have to move a single muscle if Tony can help it, wanting to give you as much rest as possible.

“Are you comfy like this?” Tony asks when you’re seated comfortably, his cock nestled deep inside you after you asked if you could cockwarm him in the bath. He’s never been able to say no to such an offer, and he will make the most of it for as long as he can with you. After all, he has to leave early in the morning, so he’s happy to soak in every last bit of you that he can.

“Very,” you say as you bring the glass of champagne to your lips, a strawberry inside to add some flavor. The large floor-to-ceiling windows give you a beautiful sight all over Manhattan after Tony has turned off the frosted effect - not that anyone can look inside unless they’re flying -and you’re happy to spend the last moments of the year with the man you’re marrying next year.

“I can’t wait to marry you next year,” you tell him when you’re snuggled against his chest, your head lying against his shoulder as you look outside. Fireworks in all colors and shapes illuminate the night sky, and you’re relaxing through and through while you do.

“I can’t wait either, Sugar. Then you’ll finally be Mrs. Stark,” he says, a wide smile on his features as he does. It’s always been a dream to get married, but to call you his wife is better than anything he could have ever dreamt of. From the moment you two met to when you proposed, and from his own proposal until now has been a rollercoaster of emotions in the best way possible, and he wouldn’t change it for anything. Without you, his life wouldn’t be the same, and he’s looking forward to finally putting that ring on your finger.

“You know what else I can’t wait for? I’m stepping back as Iron Man when I'm back from my mission. To spend time with you, care for Sun and Moon, and start our family. God, I can’t wait to fuck you every single day to pump you so full of my cum that you’re going to get pregnant with twins. Or triplets. Either way, we’re going to have the most delicious sex whenever we want until you’re round with my babies.”

His voice deepens at the mention of you getting pregnant, and his breeding kink is going wild inside his head. Every thought about positions and places is going through his head - folding you in half so he can reach even deeper spots, as well as fucking you on every surface of the penthouse and your cabin in Austria. He can’t wait to get you pregnant, but he will have much fun before then.

“Yeah? You want to get me pregnant that badly, huh?” you ask, and Tony’s eyes widen in surprise at your words. He nods enthusiastically, and you kiss him on his cheek, making him blush.

“I’d like that too,” you whisper in his ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps on his sensitive skin.

“Mark me, Sugar, I’m all yours. Mark me as much as you want, as I’ll proudly show every single one of them off to everyone,” he says, and you can’t help but clench around his cock inside you as he does. He’s never been shy to ask for what he wants, and it always turns you on even more when he does.

From his ear, you move down to his neck, where you start sucking a path of hickeys, marking him just like he loves doing to you. You keep this up until you hear an announcement from JARVIS that it’s almost midnight and a countdown from 30 to 0 has started.

“Lemme quickly get two glasses of champagne,” Tony says, and when there are only 5 seconds left, he hands you yours. In unison, you two count down the last few seconds, and right on cue, Tony crashes his lips onto yours, punching every last breath out of your chest as the kiss is all-consuming. Your tongues are dancing in a passionate rhythm, wanting to commit each other to memory one last time. When he pulls away, you’re left breathless as you smile at him, his eyes shimmering with love and admiration.

“Happy New Year, Sugar. I love you.” His words are sealed with one more kiss and a sip of champagne—the best start of the year ever.

You two spent another hour and a half in the bath together - talking, sharing kisses, sipping champagne, and already saying most of your teary goodbyes before his mission - before it was finally time to get ready to sleep. Tony massaged you to help you fall asleep, and the following day arrived too soon for your liking. While you’re still in bed, Tony has put on loose sweatpants as he will pick up Sun and Moon from their stay with Bucky.

It doesn’t take long before you’re greeted with lots of meows and furry cuddles as your fiancé places both of them on the bed, ready for some much-needed cuddles. While Tony can’t stay long, he’s trying to soak in as much time with the three of you as possible, wanting to remember this moment for a long time when he’s on the other side of the world.

“Good morning, Beautiful. How did you sleep?” Tony asks as he’s settling on his side of the bed, though Moon has already claimed his pillow as he’s curled up on it. You can’t help but smile as Tony kisses you, but before he can go too far, you kiss him on his nose, making him smile, too.

“Surprisingly well, though, that has everything to do with the amazing massage you gave me last night. And the way you wore me out, too,” you say, and he nods proudly. During the rest of your time together, Tony kisses you, tells you sweet things like how much he misses you, and cuddles your cats, too. But then, it’s finally time for Tony to leave.

“I will call you as soon as I can, okay? And take good care of yourself in my absence, no matter how hard times may be without me there. You’re amazing, and I love you so much, Sugar.” Tony’s words bring tears to your eyes as his thumbs rub softly over your cheekbones, and you nod. Nothing you can say will make this any easier, but you’re thankful you two have been able to share all your thoughts last night in the bath.

“I love you, Tony. And please, take good care of yourself, too. I’m going to need you back in one piece.”

He nods before leaning in and placing a featherlight kiss on your forehead, sealing his promise of coming back in one piece. Goodbyes have always been hard for you, but now that Tony will leave for the next six months, a chunk of your soul is going with him, and you won’t feel complete until his return.

“I love you too, Y/N. More than I can ever put into words,” he whispers against your forehead, and then he pulls you in for one last bone-crushing hug. Then, the elevator bell rings, letting you know he must leave. Fury is waiting in the now open elevator for Tony to join him, and you’re placing one last kiss on his nose before he officially leaves.

“I’ll take good care of him, Y/N. I promise,” Fury says, and you nod as you wipe the tears from your cheeks. With one last air kiss, the elevator doors close, and Tony is officially gone for six months. The moment you’ve been looking up to the most is here, and you can’t help but let out heartwrenching sobs as Moon comes to comfort you - his paw softly batting against your leg in comfort.

You gather him into your arms before getting up and walking to the couch, where you let yourself go for a while. Eventually, the tears stop, and you’re preparing for the breakfast date you planned with Natasha, anticipating this moment. If you can’t be with the man you love, you’d be the happiest spending time with your best friend and looking forward to it.

You grab sports leggings, a sports bra, and one of Tony’s t-shirts from your walk-in closet to be comfortable this morning. Natasha doesn’t take long to arrive with the breakfast items she promised to bring. As soon as you see her, you pull her into a much-needed hug, and it’s like the pieces of you are slowly coming back together in her hold.

“How’re you holding up, Detka?” she asks, and you shrug before letting yourself fall back on the couch again, not knowing how to feel yet.

“It’s weird to know I won’t see him for at least six months. Normally, I spend every second I possibly can with him, but having him gone for that long will be quite an adjustment. Thankfully, I was able to get a proper goodbye last night,” you tell her with a small smile, thinking back to everything you have done with Tony last night.

“But enough about me. How was your New Year’s Eve with Bruce?” you ask as you sip the coffee she brought. Her eyes immediately light up at the mention of Bruce, and before she says anything, she lifts her hand and shows a large rock on her ring finger.

“OH MY GOD, ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!” you exclaim before pulling her into another hug. Bruce has gone down on one knee last night, and Natasha is beaming with pride as she tells you all about what he did - and how they celebrated afterward. Neither of you can keep anything a secret from the other, so it’s nothing short of routine for you two to share your sex lives.

“He went feral when I wrapped this hand around him! I’ve told you before about him having a temper in the bedroom, but this was absolutely out of this world,” she starts, and the rest of the morning is spent eating breakfast, cuddling both your cats and sharing every last detail of the way you spent your New Year’s Eve with your other halves.

Even though Tony is gone for six months, you’re still surrounded by people you love and who will make the time without your husband-to-be fly by. You’re thankful to be loved by so many people, and you will make many memories to look back on with everyone. But that will be a story for another day, as you’re now having a fantastic time with your best friend and two cats, which is another fabulous start to a tremendous year.

[sweetromanova]

Matching Napkins & Mixed Feelings🕊️

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: A story of a fake date with real chemistry and absolutely zero self control.

Word Count: 11k

Weddings were supposed to be happy.

Natasha Romanoff scowled at the cream-and-gold envelope like it had insulted her personally. Which, in a way, it had.

Natasha wasn’t sure what annoyed her more: the fact that everyone was going, or the fact that they were all excited about it.

The invitation had been couriered in a velvet-lined box, a typically extra touch from Tony, who had apparently gone full sentimental since his wedding to Pepper. Stark had insisted on hosting Wanda and Vision’s nuptials himself, at some sprawling manor house he owned in the Hamptons. Big enough to fit the entire SHIELD team, plus family, plus plus-ones.

That was the part Natasha kept getting stuck on.

‘You are warmly invited to join us for the weekend- rehearsal dinner Friday, ceremony Saturday, brunch Sunday. Formal attire. Plus-ones welcome!’

The words stared back at her from the heavy cardstock like a dare.

Everyone was talking about it. Clint was coming with Laura and their kids. Steve had RSVP’d “maybe” because apparently he was still awkward about parties and modern social norms. Sam had mentioned bringing a woman he’d been seeing, serious, apparently. Even Carol had raised an eyebrow and said, “Think I’ll ask Maria. She’s better at tuxes anyway.” And true to her word, the next time Natasha saw them they were planning on matching suits.

And Natasha? She had… no one. Which wasn’t tragic, just a little inconvenient. Because for all her sharp edges and hard-earned detachment, even she knew what it would look like when she showed up alone to a house full of love and champagne flutes. She didn’t need the stares or the nudges or the pity disguised as small talk.

Not to mention: if she had to listen to one more person ask. “So… who are you bringing?” She might snap.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The next morning, she was more in her head than she liked to admit. Her boots echoed through the sleek hallways of Stark Tower, a bitter coffee gripped loosely in one hand, the other tucking her hair back absently. She hadn’t slept. Her thoughts spun circles, rehearsing excuses, brushing off questions, imagining herself at the rehearsal dinner with an empty chair beside her and a glass of vodka she didn’t want.

Which is probably why she didn’t see you coming.

You stepped out of a side hallway with a tablet in one hand, reading something intently, just as Natasha rounded the corner.

The collision was minor. The spill was not.

Splash.

Dark liquid sloshed across your blouse, splattering your chest and neck in one fast, shocking second.

“Shit-“

You froze, flinching at the sudden heat.

Natasha swore under her breath and reached instinctively for a napkin tucked into her jacket. “Damn it. I didn’t see you. I’m sorry.”

You blinked, not out of fear, just processing the impact. Your shirt was soaked and your tablet was now dripping and beeping sadly.

“Well...” You said after a pause, “I guess I’m awake now.”

Natasha looked you over quickly, assessing but not in a threat analysis way. You were younger than her, dressed in business casual with a lanyard tucked into your jacket. She didn’t recognize your face and she always recognized people in this building.

“Do you work for Stark?” She asked, brows drawing together slightly.

You nodded, still dabbing at your shirt. “Marketing. Technically Pepper’s team. I do a lot of the external communications stuff. Press kits, campaigns, corporate fluff.”

“Figured.” Natasha said. “I know every face in this tower. Yours isn’t one of them.”

You raised a brow. “I’m new. Just finished onboarding last week. I guess you really do know everyone.”

“I make a point of it.”

The way she said it wasn’t bragging, just fact. You tilted your head slightly, as if seeing her with fresh eyes. “That’s… a little intense.”

“I’m a little intense.”

You laughed, not mocking but genuinely surprised. “Good to know.”

For a second, neither of you moved.

You were standing in a puddle of cooling coffee, your blouse stained and your morning derailed. But you didn’t look angry. If anything, you looked curious like she had just disrupted your day in a way you hadn’t been expecting and maybe didn’t mind.

“I should sort this-“ You excused. “New shirt, coffee bath, and my calendar’s erased itself. Great day.”

“I can call down for dry cleaning.” Natasha offered, already pulling out her phone. “Or get someone from facilities to grab you a spare shirt from the merch room.”

You shook your head, still smiling faintly. “It’s fine. I was overdue for chaos today anyway. Seriously, I’ll be fine.”

Natasha wasn’t used to this. Casual ease. Civilians who didn’t flinch. You didn’t try to make conversation or ask for a selfie, you just were. Steady, warm, smart-mouthed. A weird comfort she hadn’t expected on a Monday.

“No, please. The dry cleaning downstairs can have it washed and dried in 30 minutes.”

“That’s impressive.”

“And needed.” Natasha eyed your blouse, the brown stain almost bleeding further across the stark-white material. “And I’ll buy you a coffee for the trouble?”

“Aslong as I don’t have to wear it this time.”

You laughed softly, trying not to fidget too much in your damp shirt and followed the redhead as she turned and led you toward the elevator. You tried not to stare at the way she moved, efficient, confident, like she was wired tighter than everyone else in the building. There was no wasted motion. No small talk, either. She held silence like armour.

“Stark really has his own laundry service in the building?” You asked after a moment of silence, trying to fill the quiet.

Natasha glanced sideways, a trace of amusement in her voice. “This building has a quantum-powered smoothie bar. Laundry’s not the weirdest part.”

“Right. Forgot I work in sci-fi now.”

She actually smirked at that.

The laundry room was pristine, tucked down a narrow hallway you were sure wasn’t on any public floor plan. Matte steel machines lined the walls, humming softly, nothing clunky or coin-operated about them.

Natasha tapped in a short code at the touchscreen console and one of the machines slid open like a bank vault.

“Drop it in.” She said, nodding toward the opening.

You hesitated, eyeing your blouse. “Right. Should probably take it off.”

Natasha, already crouched by the control panel, paused. “Yeah.”

You started to unbutton it slowly, aware of her presence, but doing your best to play it cool. The fabric peeled away sticky and cold from your skin. You folded the shirt and passed it to her, now left standing in your bra. lacy, a soft lavender and probably not entirely office-appropriate.

You could feel her glance before she looked back at the machine, slipping your shirt inside like it hadn’t just gotten a little awkward.

“Timer’s set for twenty-eight minutes.” She smiled, her voice steady. “You’ll get it back warm.”

“Great.” You said lightly. Then added: “Just one problem.”

Natasha turned. You were hugging your arms over your chest now. “I didn’t exactly plan on stripping in front of the whole of SHIELD today, so I don’t have anything else to wear.”

For a beat, she didn’t say anything.

Then without ceremony, she reached for the hem of her long-sleeve black shirt and pulled it off in one motion.

You blinked. She was already holding it out to you. “Here.”

“Are you-“

“I’ve got a sports bra on. You don’t.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.

You took the shirt, trying not to stare at her bare shoulders, the faint glint of a scar along one collarbone. Her sports bra was simple and sleek. Functional.

Natasha Romanoff was all sharp lines and quiet edges. And yet, somehow, she was handing you a piece of herself like it didn’t matter at all.

You pulled it over your head. It was loose, warm, smelled faintly like cedar and something darker like wind after a storm. It covered you down past your hips.

She looked at you, nodded once then leaned against the counter, arms folded.

“So.” You smirked, not quite sure what to do with yourself. “How many coffee related injuries do you cause per week?”

Natasha’s mouth quirked. “You’re the first.”

“Well.” You gestured at your borrowed outfit. “Glad I could make an impression.”

That pulled the smallest smile from her, a ghost of something wry and curious.

And just like that, the silence between you didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

“I still owe you a coffee.”

“Lead the way.”

Ten minutes later, you were seated across from her in the sleek Stark Tower café, far less flashy than expected, tucked into a glass alcove overlooking Midtown. It was quiet this time of day and your coffee order had come out faster than it should’ve. You suspected Natasha had something to do with that.

“You know…” You said, cupping your hands around the mug. “I expected you to be way scarier.”

Natasha leaned back slightly, one brow raised. “Disappointed?”

You tilted your head, teasing. “Not sure yet.”

She let out a low laugh, barely audible but real. “You’ve got guts.”

“And caffeine.”

“Same thing.”

There was a comfortable beat of silence as you sipped. You weren’t sure how this had happened, being here, sitting across from her but you weren’t about to question it. Not when the tension had softened into something almost easy. Almost fun.

Natasha was watching you. Not obviously, not unkindly but carefully. Like she was trying to figure out what box to put you in. You weren’t sure she’d found one yet.

“So.” She said finally. “What were you doing in that hallway anyway? Not just wandering around looking to catch flying coffee cups, right?”

You smiled. “Helping Pepper with some last-minute wedding planning.”

That earned a groan. You couldn’t tell if it was dramatic or genuine.

You grinned. “What?”

“She’s been in a spreadsheet induced spiral for three days.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve seen the color-coded seating charts.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Of course she color-coded.”

“She color-coded by personality type.” You added, with a smirk.

She stared at you, deadpan. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was.”

You both laughed and for a moment it felt like you’d known her longer than thirty minutes.

“Why the face?” You asked, stirring your coffee idly. “You groaned at the word ‘wedding’ like someone was threatening you.”

She hesitated, just long enough for you to notice.

“It’s not really my thing.” She shrugged. “Big groups. Matching napkins. PDA. Plus-ones.”

You raised your brows. “Don’t like a good open bar?”

“I like vodka.” She countered. “I don’t like pity small talk from married people asking me why I’m alone.”

“Wow.” You said, deadpan. “Whoever asked you that must have a death wish.”

“They were brave. And drunk. Didn’t last long.”

You laughed, fully this time, a rich, bright sound that made her glance up again, this time without the usual walls behind her eyes.

“Well…” You said lightly. “I also hate matching napkins and PDA. I’m also being a loner this weekend and every other weekend.”

Natasha tilted her head, amused. “Are you offering to be my plus-one?”

You shrugged with a grin. “I mean, I wasn’t but I’d be happy to be of service. Besides don’t I owe you for the courageous offer of your shirt so I wouldn’t flash government officials.”

“Pretty sure I owe you.”

You sipped your coffee. “Exactly. I’m repaying a debt. Like some kind of marketing department damsel in distress.”

Natasha considered you for a long moment then set her cup down.

“…Alright.”

You blinked. “Wait. Really?”

“You basically offered.”

“Yeah but-“

“And I accepted.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. “Wow. I didn’t think that would actually work.”

Her lips twitched. “You said it yourself, you’re free this weekend.”

You tried to look nonchalant and failed completely. “Guess I am.”

Natasha picked up her cup again. “Good. Then pack something formal. Stark weddings are never subtle.”

“Noted.”

Another beat passed. This time, the silence felt like static, charged, not quite flirty, not quite serious. You broke it with a grin.

“So… is there a dress code or expectations for being an Avenger’s fake date?”

Natasha didn’t blink. “Don’t die.”

You raised your cup in a toast. “I’ll do my best.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Your phone buzzed while you were packing.

Unknown Number:

Send a pic of the dress.

You blinked then stared at the text for a second too long.

Well, that wasn’t ominous.

You texted back immediately.

You:

Bold of you to assume I’d be into anonymous dress kinks.

But sure, what are you wearing?

It only took a second before a reply came through.

Unknown Number:

It’s Natasha.

Shut up.

You grinned, already halfway laughing.

You:

Ohhhh well in that case? Still no.

You’ll see it at the wedding. I like the dramatic reveal.

Three dots appeared… then vanished. Then again.

Natasha:

Why are you being weird?

You:

You asked for a picture of my outfit like a sugar daddy? What’s the protocol here?

Do I send you feet pics too?

Across the city, in her apartment, Natasha stared at her phone with the dead-eyed expression of someone questioning every decision that had led her here.

Then, finally.

Natasha:

Just tell me the colour.

You chewed your lip, fighting a smirk, then typed.

You:

Technically? It’s ‘shadowed evergreen with cool ash undertones and a satin twilight finish’

Ten seconds of silence.

Natasha:

What the hell does that mean?!

You:

It means it’s a very sexy forest🫶

Natasha:

That’s all you had to say at the beginning.

Also that’s not a colour.

You:

You asked.

Don’t get snippy just because you don’t understand fashion.

Another pause.

Natasha:

...Is it short?

You felt your heart skip once, just once then smiled as you typed back.

You:

Wouldn’t you like to know?

It’s fitted. High slit. Low back.

You’ll manage.

Natasha:

You’re enjoying this.

You:

You asked.

Natasha:

I regret it.

You:

You’ll regret it more when you see me.

Try not to let it become a problem.

Natasha:

What I regret not leaving you soaked in coffee.

You:

Two more days and you can have a do-over with champagne…

Three dots. No reply.

You pictured her somewhere in her minimalistic apartment, tossing her phone onto the couch and muttering something Russian under her breath.

It made you grin harder than you wanted to admit.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The trees were thinning out ahead of them, tall pines giving way to the manicured gravel drive that wound toward Stark’s Hamptons estate. But the car ride still had time to stretch, twenty more minutes of shared space and too much quiet.

You shifted in your seat and glanced over at Natasha, arms on the wheel, eyes fixed on the blur outside the window. She looked like a statue someone had wrapped in black silk.

“We should probably get our story straight.” You commented, putting your phone down and turning towards her.

She blinked, just once then looked at you. “What story?”

“How we met.” You gave her a shrug and a crooked smile. “We’re supposed to be dating, remember? People are going to ask.”

Natasha made a face like she’d just remembered she agreed to something ridiculous. “Can’t we just say we matched on some app, I spilled coffee on you, which I did and kept it vague?”

“That’s your fantasy origin story?” You teased. “You spill coffee on my shirt and you’re like Better take this one to a wedding.’”

“I’ve done dumber things.”

You laughed. “Okay, fine. Let’s workshop it.”

She sighed and leaned back into the leather. “Alright. Shoot.”

You held up an imaginary notepad. “Option one: You saved my life during a corporate hostage situation. You fell for me literally, as crawled through the air vents.”

She looked at you flatly. “Pass. Also you work for Stark, I think he’d know if there was a hostage situation with his employees.”

“I work with Pepper and can say Stark doesn’t even know what time to shower unless Pepper tells him. Anyway, no problem.” You grin. “Option two. We were seated next to each other on a red-eye. You stole my pretzels. We fought. Then we made out somewhere over Nebraska.”

Her expression didn’t change but her lip twitched. “That one’s better.”

“Thought so.”

“But I don’t take red eyes. I have a quinjet.”

“Ok, show off.”

“What else have you got?”

“The boring kind. Meet cute in the supermarket? Friend of a friend set us up on a blind date? I stalked you like a weirdo fan.”

“The last one!”

“Of course you’d say that.”

“It’s realistic.”

“Not quite, I’m more of a Wanda fan.”

“She’s getting married, tough.”

“Only because she hasn’t met me yet.”

“You’re so-“

“I know.” Natasha went quiet, not in anger but admiration, she’d met her match.

She was quiet for a moment, then said. “So what’s your real type? Since we’re lying to each other.”

You looked out the window. “Hopeless romantic. The usual.”

“Fairy tales. Flowers. Making eye contact during sex?”

“Exactly.”

She snorted. “You don’t strike me as the hearts and roses type.”

You smiled, a little softer now. “I don’t believe in love. I just like pretending it’s real.”

That made her glance at you again, properly this time.

You added. “It’s like horoscopes. Bullshit but comforting.”

She didn’t answer right away.

Then: “I hate love.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Hate’s a strong word.”

“So’s ‘forever.’”

“Touché.”

“I like what love pretends to be.” She shrugged. “But love itself? Messy. Manipulative. Weak.”

You didn’t push. Just nodded. “So what do you believe in?”

Natasha stared out the window again.

“Control.” She deadpanned. “Chemistry. Sex.”

“Ah.” You said, biting back a grin. “The holy trinity.”

She finally smiled, crooked, deliberate. “At least I’m honest about it.”

You shrugged, settling into your seat. “Alright then. New origin story? We met at a bar. You said something cold. I said something stupid. Then we slept together. And just… kept doing it.”

“That…” Natasha said, eyes still forward, “…is the most believable thing you’ve said all day.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The car pulled up to the Stark estate, all towering stone archways and elegant glass, an estate that looked like it had been custom-built to host emotionally complicated billionaires and superhero weddings.

Natasha stepped out first, looking entirely unbothered. She wore a smart-casual line shirt tucked neatly into lightweight black dress pants, sleeves pushed just enough to show her forearms. Her sunglasses sat low on her nose, her expression unreadable.

Effortless. Controlled. Of course she looked good.

You followed her out of the car, brushing your palms over the fabric of your summer dress, a soft floral number, simple and light. It was the least daring of the dresses you’d packed for the weekend. You weren’t easing into things. You were pacing yourself.

Her eyes flicked over you, unreadable.But her fingers brushed your lower back as you stepped up beside her.

Instinct? Acting? You weren’t sure. Neither was she.

Inside, the front room was alive with voices, laughter, clinking glass and the full roster of Avengers in various states of casual travel attire. Sam, Carol, Maria, Clint, Tony, Steve and Bucky, all circling round the reception.

All eyes went to you and Natasha the moment the door closed behind you.

“Romanoff brought a date.” Sam said, mock-scandalised.

Carol blinked. “Wait, seriously? You weren’t kidding?”

Maria nudged her. “Let her get a drink first, damn!"

Natasha just raised an eyebrow like this was nothing new.

You smiled, stepped closer, and casually slid your hand into hers. She didn’t flinch or pull away. Just laced her fingers with yours like she’d done it a thousand times.

Pepper spotted you across the room and froze. “Wait- What?!”

You grinned. “Hi, boss.”

“I- I- How did I not know about this?”

Natasha answered smoothly. “We’re very discreet.”

“I work with both of you.”

“Exactly.” Natasha added, stepping in close to your side, her hand still warm in yours. “She only visits me after hours.”

“Please stop.” Pepper muttered.

“We met after work.” You explained. “At a bar… we didn’t know at first. A few drinks and Natasha was all charming but just so so broody-“

“Then we slept together.” She finished flatly, cutting you off.

Sam snorted into his drink. “Okay. I like this story. Let’s go back, don’t spare any details.”

“We’ve been inseparable ever since.” You smile, cuddling up against her side like it was second nature.

Natasha’s arm instinctively wrapped around your waist.

She gave you a sideways glance, low and amused. “That’s funny. Because someone didn’t text me back for three days.”

“I was playing hard to get.” You said, nudging her. “You liked it.”

“You were ghosting me.”

“I was thinking!” You turned to Pepper. “She’s so clingy.”

“I left for a mission.” Natasha said, deadpan.

“Exactly. Clingy and mysterious.”

“Please. You begged me to take you home.”

“Well maybe because your flirting was so bad, someone had to do something about it!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so unemotionally available to talk to!”

“I was not!”

“No, she’s right. She wasn’t…” Natasha’s hand slid a little lower on your back. “She cried after sex.”

“I did not-“

Maria burst out laughing. Sam actually gasped. Pepper covered her mouth.

You gasped, indignant. “You said I was the best you ever had!”

“I say that to everyone.”

You slapped her arm lightly but enough to earn a subtle smirk in return.

“Can we get our keys before I commit a public murder?” You asked sweetly.

Pepper, still recovering, handed over a sleek black envelope. “Second floor. Shared suite. Far end of the east wing.”

“I hope the bed’s big, we need a big enough one to fit her ego.” Natasha said, locking eyes with you.

You didn’t blink. “So do I, you snore like a pig.”

Natasha just smiled. “You’ll be too busy crying after sex again to notice.”

The whole room groaned.

As you tugged Natasha toward the stairs, hand still in hers, you leaned in and whispered. “Bet you’re not used to being out-charmed in your own games.”

Natasha just squeezed your hand and muttered under her breath, low and amused. “Game’s still on.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The suite was exactly what you’d expect from a Stark estate, bigger than most apartments, with sleek wood floors, modern furniture and a full glass wall that overlooked the trees outside. One kingsized bed sat against the far wall, all clean lines and crisp sheets, like every other part of the estate, nothing out of place.

Natasha walked in first, tossing her jacket on a chair, already scanning the place like she was expecting it to self destruct.

You followed behind her and dropped your bag on the bed closest to the window.

“So.” You said, eyeing the space. “Do you want the side near the door so you can make a quick escape or shall I take that one and make things interesting?”

She glanced at you with that unreadable look. “You were projecting down there, you're the one who snores. I can tell.”

“Wow. Judgy.”

“You talk in your sleep too.”

“Oh so now you’re just fantasising.”

She let out a short breath, maybe a laugh, maybe a sigh. Hard to tell. Then she said: “Rehearsal dinner starts in thirty. Don’t be late.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying you want to match outfits or?”

But she’d already disappeared into the bathroom, and the door shut behind her with a soft click.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You changed into one of the nicer dresses you’d brought not the showstopper, that was for the ceremony but the second-best one. Fitted, with a complicated strappy back, a deep neckline and a stunning shade of red that didn’t just draw the eye, it demanded attention and held it hostage.

You were just putting in earrings when Natasha emerged.

She’d traded the linen for something sharper. Dark, tailored, open collar. A suit jacket this time, no tie. Hair in loose waves, something nobody saw often with a few braids scattered.

She stopped when she saw you. Just for a second.

And then she said. “That’s the second least daring dress you packed?”

You smirked. “I told you I was pacing myself.”

She tilted her head, eyes dragging over the length of you. “You pace like you’re trying to kill someone slowly.”

“And you look like someone who doesn’t believe in foreplay.”

“Only with people who’ve earned it.”

You stuttered out a laugh, caught off guard but you’d never give her the pleasure of knowing that. “Let’s go, there’s a champagne glass with my name on it.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The rehearsal dinner was already in full swing by the time you reached the main hall, tall ceilings, string lights overhead and a long banquet table running the length of the room. Waitstaff circled with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Soft jazz floated in from a live trio in the corner.

Wanda spotted you immediately and lit up. She hugged Natasha first, quick and surprisingly warm then turned to you.

“And you must be…” Wanda’s eyes sparkled.

“Trouble.” You finished, smiling.

Wanda laughed. “I like her.”

"How are you feeling?"

"Nervous, excited. The wedding is this easy part, it's keeping up wit this spectacle Stark forced on us."

You mingled easily. More easily than Natasha expected, judging by the way her gaze kept flicking toward you from across the room.

You weren’t loud. You weren’t fake. But you were good.

Polite. Political. Smart. The kind of person who answered nosy questions with grace and just enough mischief to keep them guessing.

“I work in marketing for Stark Industries.” Natasha overheard you say once, hand resting lightly on someone’s arm. “Which means I lie for a living but only beautifully.”

You handled Clint with charm, Bruce with kindness, and Carol with so much wit that Maria had to hide her grin behind a champagne glass.

You even made Tony pause.

“Who is she?” He asked Natasha at one point, halfway through a glass of scotch. “She works for me?!”

Natasha didn’t answer, just watched you from across the room.

You caught her eye once and held it. And smiled like you knew something she didn’t.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Wanda stood near the fireplace, her glass of wine barely touched. She watched Natasha across the room, now alone, swirling a drink slowly in her hand. The corner of her mouth twitched.

She walked over.

“I like her.” She said softly, without preamble.

“She’s good at pretending.” Natasha didn’t look up. There was no point in lying to a literal mind reader.

Wanda smiled. “That wasn’t pretend.”

“She’s charming. It’s a skill.”

“Maybe. But she wasn’t the one pretending tonight.”

Natasha glanced at her then, sharp, neutral. “You reading me now Maximoff?”

“I don’t have to.” Wanda said, swirling her wine. “You wear it like perfume."

“Wear what?”

“The way you look at her.” Wanda said, her voice velvety smooth. “Like she’s a loaded weapon you’re hoping never gets aimed at you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “She’s not a threat."

Wanda tilted her head. “Exactly.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Wanda added, low and knowing, “She wants you. And you’re trying so hard not to want her back, it’s practically screaming.”

Natasha’s jaw flexed.

“I can help you lie to everyone else.” Wanda said gently, stepping back. “But not yourself.”

And with that, she slipped away, leaving Natasha standing in the amber-lit room, silent, glass still in hand.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The rehearsal dinner had finally wound down, the last glasses of champagne drained and someone, probably Clint, caught trying to sneak dessert into a napkin for later.

The suite was dim when you returned. You kicked off your shoes, sighing like you’d just survived a battlefield. In a way, you had.

Natasha followed you in, quiet as ever, closing the door behind her.

“So?” You asked as you started to undo the copious amount of jewellery that adorned your body. “How did I do?”

There was a pause.

“You’re terrifyingly good at this.”

You grinned, stepping towards her and turning, gesturing towards the zip. “Told you I lie beautifully.”

Her hands shook as she pulled down the zip, watching more and more skin appear, the curve of a shoulder, the dip of her spine, each inch undoing her composure like thread unraveling in slow motion.

“Done.” She croaked out, immediately clearing her throat after.

“Thanks.” You smiled, holding up the dress with your left hand, disappearing into the bathroom, hearing a sigh of relief behind you.

When you came back out, you were in an oversized tee, bare legs, no makeup and smelling of a mix of vanilla and coconut. You looked casual but soft. Natasha had already stripped down to a tank top and loose joggers, sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through something on her phone like she wasn’t hyper-aware of you.

You walked over and flopped down beside her.

And the second your weight hit the mattress, her eyes flicked to yours. “I can take the sofa.”

“I think we’re a little past pretending we’re that polite,” You told her, pulling your legs up and stretching out beside her. “Besides, I don’t bite.”

Her lips curled slightly. “That’s disappointing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t if provoked.”

She didn’t look away. “Noted.”

And just like that, neither of you moved, the bed suddenly feeling too big and way too small at the same time.

You turned off the bedside light.

And in the dark, your voices felt quieter. Closer.

You rolled onto your side, your arm brushing hers. “Don’t worry. I don’t kick or snore or talk in my sleep. No matter how much you insist I do.”

“Great.”

“But I do cuddle.”

“Immediately no.”

“I can’t help it. I’m like a koala bear.”

“Yeah well I’m like a polar bear so don’t try it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You mumbled tiredly. “Big, scary, dangerous assassin. I could do some damage too, you know?”

“Oh yes, I’m so scared of the biting, cuddle threatening koala that knows all things marketing, how will I ever escape colour coded files and manipulative email- OW.”

“I told you I bite.” You simply murmured, watching through lidded eyes as she rubbed her arm where your teeth sank.

“You are insane.”

“I must be to be here right now.”

“Go to sleep.”

“You really do have a thing about control.”

“And you really like pretending that doesn’t interest you.”

You smiled into the dark. “Just trying to understand the rules of the game.”

“There aren’t any.”

You let that hang between you for a moment, the silence heavier than it should be.

“Sweet dreams Natasha.”

She didn’t respond but she didn’t roll away, either.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You felt her move before you heard her, the shift of weight on the mattress, the whisper of sheets, the near-silent sound of feet hitting the floor.

Natasha never really slept, not the way most people did. It was more like she paused… reset. Eyes still closed, you heard her zip something up, then the faint creak of the door opening.

Of course she would run more miles than you could count on both hands before a wedding like it was any other day.

You didn’t move. Just let the door click shut behind her and sank a little deeper into the pillow, the scent of her shampoo still clinging to the sheets beside you.

By the time she returned, you were out of bed, hair half-styled, robe cinched loosely at your waist, mascara in hand and one earring in.She stepped inside, sweat-slick and infuriatingly calm, like her pulse had never spiked.

Her eyes flicked over you, bare legs, flushed cheeks, one slipper on.

“Morning.” You grinned, like it wasn’t completely unfair how good she looked post-run.

She nodded once. “You start getting ready without me?”

“I figured you wouldn’t need help getting dressed.”

Her gaze lingered a second longer than necessary.

“You’d be surprised.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Is that a request?”

“Not yet.”

And just like that, she disappeared into the bathroom — leaving you there, smiling into your second earring like this wasn’t building toward something inevitable.

The sound of running water humming to life seconds later. You stared at yourself in the mirror, hair nearly finished, makeup done, skin still warm from the hair appliance and nerves.

Then you turned to the dress. That dress.

That deep shade of green, open back, structured yet slinky all at once. You’d worn it in theory before when you described it to her via text and she acted unimpressed.

But now it was real.

You stepped into it slowly, carefully adjusting the fabric where it hugged your hips, smoothing it over your thighs. The straps fell into place across your shoulders, fabric twisting at the bottom of your back in delicate, purposeful chaos.

The zipper was halfway up when the bathroom door opened

You didn’t turn around.

“Romanoff?” You called over your shoulder, playing it casual.

A pause, a few footsteps. She didn’t answer, not right away.

You reached behind you, fingers fumbling at the zipper.

“Can you help?”

A moment of silence followed before a few footsteps again. Slower this time.

She came up behind you, close enough that you could feel her body heat before she even touched you. You caught her reflection in the mirror, damp hair swept back, skin still flushed from the shower, eyes locked on the open expanse of skin down your spine.

Her fingers brushed the small of your back, just once. Then found the zipper.

She pulled it up slowly, carefully, dragging the fabric into place with the kind of precision that felt practiced. Mechanical. Except her touch lingered a second too long at the top, fingertips brushing your skin before dropping away.

You exhaled. “Thanks.”

Natasha’s voice came quiet behind you. “You were right.”

You blinked. “About what?”

She met your eyes in the mirror.

“That dress is a problem.”

“I could take it off if it’s going to cause problems.”

She didn’t flinch, just tilted her head, lips curving slightly. “You’ll have to behave yourself at dinner. We’re with the team.”

“Oh, I won’t.” You said, brushing past her on the way to the bathroom. “But it’ll look polite.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The ceremony was beautiful. Wanda glowed. Vision looked like he’d downloaded five separate wedding manuals and still managed to look overwhelmed.

You and Natasha sat close, too close in the front row. Her knee bumped yours once. You didn’t move. When the bride walked down the aisle, you leaned in just enough, your voice low, words almost too casual.

“Is it wildly inappropriate to admit I’ve been undressing the officiant with my eyes for the last ten minutes?”

Natasha choked on her breath and tried to cover it with a quiet cough.

“Unbelievable.” She muttered. “She’s at least double your age, if not triple.”

"She’s giving such divorced professor who teaches ethics but definitely doesn’t follow them energy.”

Natasha blinked. “What is wrong with you?”

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a type. Emotionally distant women with sharp tongues and commitment issues.”

Her jaw ticked. “Charming.”

You glanced at her. “Takes one to know one.”

You’d never seen her look more alive than when she was trying not to smirk in public.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Later, at the reception, the two of you drifted between conversations, hands brushing, fingers ghosting over the backs of chairs, subtle glances exchanged across champagne flutes. Your act was flawless. But something was cracking at the edges.

Natasha watched you laugh at something Sam said and looked away too fast.

You caught her watching and smiled like you’d caught her red-handed.

At one point, Tony stood up, scotch in hand, eyes already a little too glassy and tapped his fork against his glass like he was hosting an awards show.

“Alright, alright.” He grinned. “I’m invoking a sacred wedding tradition.”

Groans went up across the long room.

“Oh, shut up. I’m being romantic.” Tony insisted. “To celebrate love, passion, mutual tax benefits, all the lovers in the room, grab your partner and kiss ‘em.”

You and Natasha exchanged a look across your wine glasses, a perfect mix of horror and absolutely not.

Then, in unison, you both made a very quiet, very dry fake gagging sound. It was subtle. Synchronized. Discreet enough for dignity.

Until you looked up and realised everyone else was actually doing it. Lips meeting. Hands on cheeks. Some modest, some… very much not from those who had indulged in a glass of champagne too many.

You froze. Natasha went unnaturally still beside you.

And then, of course. “Don’t be shy, Romanoff!”

Sam called across the table, raising his glass with a grin. “We know it ain’t your first time.”

The whole table turned.

Carol looked way too amused. Bucky raised an eyebrow. Even Pepper was watching with the kind of polite curiosity that made it worse.

You turned slowly toward Natasha.

She didn’t say anything, just arched a single brow.

You cleared your throat, leaned in slightly. “Well…” You murmured. “…you did say we were committed to the bit.”

“I said I was committed, not an exhibitionist.” She gave you a once over, slow and unreadable. “Just keep your hands to yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

And then, with every eye on you, she leaned forward.

One hand rested on your thigh beneath the table, grounding. The other found the edge of your jaw, fingers light.

She kissed you.

Not quick. Not hesitant. Not entirely performative.

Just long enough to hush the room. Just slow enough to register.

And then she pulled back, face impassive like she hadn’t just lit your entire nervous system on fire.

“Better?” She said quietly, looking around the table.

Sam raised both eyebrows. “Well damn.”

You reached for your wine without a word, mostly to hide your smile.

Natasha’s thumb brushed your knee before she let go.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

After dinner, music picked up. Lights dimmed. Someone tried to drag Natasha to the dance floor. She muttered something about bruised toes and melted into the shadows, only to appear beside you five minutes later with two glasses of wine.

You took yours and clinked gently against hers.

“To fake love.” You said.

“To real chemistry.” She replied. You didn’t break eye contact.

And for a moment, nothing existed beyond the space between your knees brushing under the table, her gaze flicking to your mouth and that magnetic pull that had stopped being part of the performance sometime around… yesterday.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You didn’t drag her to the dance floor. Not really.

You just walked up behind her during some slow jazz instrumental and held out a hand without looking like she’d already agreed.

Natasha gave you a flat look then sighed like it pained her and followed you out anyway.

She didn’t dance, not properly. She shifted her weight, let you twirl lazily in front of her, arms loose around your waist like she was making sure you didn’t trip. You teased her about her rhythm. She muttered something about ‘former assassins not being trained for ballroom etiquette’.

“Yeah but you’re holding me like you’ve done this before.” You said under your breath.

She didn’t deny it.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You ended up back at the table after a few too many wedding cocktails. Natasha stretched out beside you, one ankle crossed over the other, wine glass spinning slowly between her fingers.

Bucky was mid story when you casually dropped. “Oh, Nat? She told me when we first met that she’d have left if I’d ordered a mojito.”

“She did what?” Clint asked.

“Swear to God.” You said. “It was the mint. Apparently it’s weak.”

Natasha didn’t blink. “You told the bartender you wanted a cocktail that ‘tastes like a vacation and a bad decision.’”

You nodded proudly. “And you stayed.”

“I was bored.” She drawled. “And you were wearing that backless thing. I was curious how it came off.”

Carol spit her drink.

You just raised your glass and said. “So I won.”

“I meant to ask earlier…” Sam trailed off. “How hard were the new agents coming at you? Your arm is a mess.”

Natasha frowned, looking at where Sam had pointed and saw exactly what he meant. The smirk immediately appeared, her voice teasing. “That's not from the agents."

“Oh.” The fake couple saw the realisation set in. “OH!”

“Sorry.” You shrugged, brushing your knuckles against the blossoming bruise.

“You two are something else. Remind me to thank Pepper for putting my room the hell away from yours!”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You volunteered to get the tequila. Seemed fair since Natasha had endured dancing, your relentless one-upping and two rounds of you using her as a human shield to avoid sentimental speeches. A round of shots felt like a peace offering.

The bar was busy. You leaned against the counter, waiting for the bartender, when someone slid up beside you.

Tall. Confident. Overconfident. Drunk.

You clocked the energy before he opened his mouth.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” He sneered, eyes flicking down your dress in a way that made your skin crawl. “You here with someone?”

You gave him a polite smile. “Yeah. My girlfriend.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Where is she?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Somewhere very close.”

He laughed like that meant something else entirely. “You sure she wouldn’t want to share?”

You blinked. “I’m gay.”

He leaned in a little. “That’s because you’ve never tried me…”

You opened your mouth, not entirely sure what you were going to say when a voice slid in behind you, smooth and cold.

“She has.”

You turned slightly, and there was Natasha. Calm, unreadable, dangerous in that effortless way she carried herself. Her arm slid around your waist, her other hand casually taking the shot tray from the bar like this was all completely ordinary.

“She’s not interested.” She said, her voice low but sharp enough to cut glass.

The guy didn’t take the hint.

He gave her a slow once over, cocky grin in full force. “What, you speak for her now?”

Natasha’s smile turned razor edged. “When you stop listening? Yeah.”

He laughed, short and loud like he thought he was still in control. “You got attitude. Bet you’re a real bitch in bed.”

You felt Natasha’s body shift beside you. The hand on your waist tightened, just slightly, not for show this time but restraint.

She stepped in, slow and deliberate, her mouth right near his ear. “I’ve killed men for less than what just came out of your mouth.”

He pulled back, startled, blinked like he’d just realized he was speaking to the Natasha Romanoff.

“Now baby…” Natasha said, her voice smooth as silk but still humming with the edge that made your heart pound. “Are you ready to go back to the table?”

You should’ve said yes. You should’ve grabbed the tray of tequila and made a joke, rolled your eyes, kept the game going like nothing happened.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you stared at her, flushed, breath tight, stomach doing somersaults and before you could second guess it, you stepped in.

And kissed her. Not for show. Not for the team. Not to out-do anyone. Just because she was so hot it physically hurt.

Because her voice in your ear, her hand on your waist, the look on her face when she threatened that man like it was just another Tuesday, it short circuited your good sense. The kiss was firm, deliberate, a little reckless. You felt her inhale sharply through her nose, like you’d surprised her and maybe you had.

But she didn’t pull away or laugh or joke or make it part of the bit.

Her hand came up, thumb brushing your cheek as her mouth moved with yours, just once. And the team lost their minds somewhere in the distance.

“Holy shit.”

“Okay, damn.”

“YES, NATASHA!”

You barely heard them. You were too busy clinging to the edge of breath.

Then she pulled back, barely, her eyes somehow darker than before. 

“Now I’m ready.” You breathed, pupils blown. 

“Good girl.” She murmured quietly, taking your hand in her spare one and pulling you back to the table.

And just like that, you knew you were in trouble.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

By the time the last round of drinks hit the table, you were both quieter. Not tired but full of whatever this was now. Charged. Loosened. Buzzing.

The kisses, plural now, had come and gone. One from Tony’s toast. One you initiated because she’d said baby like that.

But neither of you had really recovered.

Natasha was sitting too close, thigh pressed to yours under the table, hand resting dangerously high on your knee. Her arm wrapped around the back of your chair and her fingers running up and down the skin of your arm. At one point, you leaned in to say something and didn’t pull back. Her lips brushed your jaw like it was an accident. It wasn’t.

You fed her a lime slice with your fingers. She licked the juice off and smirked when you stared.

You said goodnight to the team, barely got the words out between half-laughs and flustered smiles.

Natasha didn’t say anything. She just stood when you did and followed. Her hand landed on your lower back like it had every right to be there.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The hallway was quiet, carpet soft beneath your heels and her presence behind you was heat.

You were laughing about something stupid, something she said in your ear that made you snort and nearly trip out of your heels. She caught your elbow automatically, steadying you, her fingers lingering. You didn’t step away.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You said without turning, your eyes a little glassy.

“I’m not looking at you.” She replied.

You could feel her looking at you.

“You’re bad at lying when you’ve had tequila.”

“I’m bad at pretending you’re not beautiful when you laugh like that.”

You stopped walking and turned to her. 

She nearly ran into you, didn’t bother stepping back. Just stared down at you with that half smile, half dare playing on her mouth.

Your voice came out a little breathless. “This isn’t part of the bit anymore, is it?”

Natasha’s gaze flicked between your eyes, her voice low. Honest.

“It hasn’t been for hours.” And then she kissed you. Not careful or playful or performative for the others.

It started soft, mouths brushing, testing but there was nothing uncertain about it. Her hand found your waist, pulled you flush and your breath hitched as you reached for her shirt like it might ground you. She broke the kiss for half a second. Just enough to breathe. Just enough to look at you.

Then her body pressed forward, backing you into the hallway wall with a clumsy, desperate kind of precision. Her mouth found yours again, messier this time, deeper and needier. 

One hand slid to the side of your neck, her thumb under your jaw, holding you there like she needed the contact. The other braced flat beside your head, trapping you in like she wasn’t giving you the option to think, let alone run.

You moaned into her mouth, surprised, maybe by how badly you wanted this. Somewhere between kisses, your hand fumbled for the key card. It slipped once. She cursed softly against your lips, took it from you and shoved it into the lock like she could break it open with willpower alone.

The door swung open. She guided you inside without looking. The room was dark, quiet, unfamiliar and none of it mattered.

You kissed her again, harder now. A laugh caught in her throat as you tugged at her blazer, fingers sliding beneath the hem. She turned you, walked you backwards blindly until your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Somewhere in the dark, her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I do.” Your answer was instant. “I want you.”

And then her mouth was on your throat, your hands under her shirt, her laugh low against your skin as you gasped. All heat and grip and tension finally snapping.

Fingers tangled in hair, knees shifting on sheets, hands gripping thighs. You felt her everywhere, her hands skimming under your dress before she near enough ripped it off, her mouth dragging across your collarbone, her breath at your ear like a promise and a warning all at once.

You gasped something, maybe her name, maybe just a sound and she answered with a shiver, a press of lips against your throat, a whispered “I know.”

And everything you hadn’t said, written across skin instead.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You woke first. Kind of.

Your eyes opened slowly, sunlight spilling across the room in quiet gold. The sheets were twisted around your waist. The air smelled like hotel linen and skin. Warmth bloomed behind you, a body, close, breathing even.

Natasha.

She was still asleep or doing a very convincing impression of it. One arm slung low across your stomach, her legs tangled with yours, her nose tucked into the back of your shoulder like she’d meant to keep her distance and just… hadn’t.

You stared at the ceiling, smiling like an idiot.

When she finally stirred, a soft sound in her throat, a stretch, a slow blink, her hand flexed where it rested on your ribs.

“Morning.” You said, voice scratchy.

She didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you, heavy-lidded and sleep-mussed and hummed like you were a warm secret she hadn’t meant to keep.

Then she flopped onto her back and muttered. “You snore.”

You gasped. “I do not.”

“You do.” She said flatly. “I knew it. Cute but loud. Like a small, overconfident animal.”

You rolled over and hit her with a pillow.

She caught it mid swing, smirking.

The sheets fell to her waist. You stared for a second too long.

She noticed but did nothing about it.

“You hungry?” She asked, casual.

“Starving.”

“I saw the menu for the brunch downstairs last night. It looks incredible, we should sneak down early to get the best stuff.” 

You grinned. “Why sneak? We’re practically newlyweds now.”

She snorted. “Right. Mission complete.”

You blinked.

“Huh.”

“Mission complete.” She repeated. “One more day of fake hand holding and pretend kisses and you can go back to emails and tinder.”

Just like that, it shifted. She didn’t mean it cruelly. It wasn’t harsh. Just a throwaway comment. A reminder. That it was fake. That it was supposed to end.

“Right. Of course.” You nodded, quiet. "Mission complete."

She didn’t notice the change in your voice. Or she did, and ignored it. You sat up, reaching for your robe, trying not to show the sting.

Her eyes flicked to you. Opened her mouth. Closed it.

But she didn’t say anything. 

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Brunch was already in full swing when you and Natasha arrived. She should have known the team would think the same as her and beat her to the good stuff.  The sun was too bright, everyone a little hungover and louder than they should’ve been. Mimosas clinked. Chairs scraped. Someone cheered when you stepped onto the terrace.

“Look who finally emerged!”

“Hey, lovebirds! Rough night?”

“Hope the hotel charged double for damage.”

You smiled, barely but just enough to be polite.

While Natasha gave them a look. “You’re all disgusting.”

Clint wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re glowing, Romanoff. I’m just saying.”

You laughed, quiet and short, and reached for a glass of juice instead of champagne. Natasha followed you to the table, sliding into the seat beside you. Her hand found your thigh under the table, thumb brushing slow circles, familiar, casual.

You stiffened. Not entirely dramatically but just enough. Then, without a word, you crossed your legs and gently dislodged her touch.

Natasha stilled. Her eyes flicked to you, studying your face like a puzzle she hadn’t realised she needed to solve.

You didn’t look at her.

You were busy stirring sugar into your coffee, listening politely to Pepper talk about the speeches later, nodding along like you hadn’t been wrapped around Natasha Romanoff eight hours ago whispering her name against her skin.

She leaned in, voice low near your ear. “You okay?”

You didn’t look up. “Fine.”

Something inside her curled. Wrong. Tight. Had she said something? Had some done something? You were happy this morning, right? Even happier last night.

This was different. You were different.

Still warm on the outside, still smiling, still engage but that spark, that electricity she’d gotten addicted to overnight? Gone. Like you’d pulled it back behind your ribs where she couldn’t reach it.

And Natasha didn’t understand why it felt like a loss.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Natasha didn’t push it.

She let you be, all through brunch, all the way to the car. No comments, no teasing. Just silence, stretched thin between you in the back seat.

She glanced at you as the engine started. “Want to talk?” She asked, voice low.

You didn’t look up from the window. “I’m just tired.”

And true to your word, you were asleep within minutes. Head tipped against the glass, arms folded across your stomach. The kind of sleep that only happens after emotional exhaustion, not rest.

Natasha watched you for a long moment before settling back, quiet. When the road curved, she took it slower than necessary. At one point, you shivered, even in the sun. She peeled off her hoodie at a stop light and carefully laid it across your lap, tucking it under your arm so it wouldn’t fall.

No one spoke the entire ride home.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

When they pulled up to the tower, she turned in her seat and touched your shoulder gently. You stirred, eyes slow to open, still soft from sleep.

“We’re here.” She said.

You blinked, sat up, then slowly started gathering your things. No words yet. No smile.

Just quiet.

And then at the curb, you turned to her, expression calm but something unreadable behind your eyes.

“This weekend was nice. Really.” Natasha opened her mouth but you kept going. “Thanks for inviting me. And… I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

She blinked. “Wait- Can we just-“ 

But you were already stepping out, already walking toward the elevators with that same gentle poise that had undone her all weekend. Not angry. Not cruel. Just done.

The doors slid closed before she could follow.

Natasha sat in the car a while longer, hoodie still warm from where it had rested against your skin and didn’t move.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

It was late afternoon when Natasha found herself standing in the common room, fingers curled loosely around a mug she hadn’t touched. She hadn’t meant to linger in the tower like a lost puppy but her legs didn’t take her anywhere else.

The doors hissed open behind her, soft heels and familiar energy.

“Hey.” Wanda said, breezing in with a duffel bag over her shoulder. Her hair was braided loose, the way she always wore it when she traveled. “I’m grabbing some things before we disappear. Don’t tell Tony or he’ll throw another brunch.”

Natasha gave a faint huff. “The last thing I need is to be sat on another table with all of them again.”

Wanda paused, looked at her properly and could sense the turmoil. “You okay?”

Natasha hesitated.

Then, finally and for once, honestly. “No.”

Wanda said nothing, just walked to the kitchen, poured herself a coffee and leaned against the counter, waiting.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I’m right where I need to be right now.”

Natasha didn’t look at her when she started. “You know I invited someone to the wedding. And I know you know it was supposed to be a fake date. But it wasn’t fake. Not really.”

Wanda tilted her head, quiet.

“There was always something there.” Natasha continued. “We kissed, more than once. We-“ She stopped, swallowed. “Saturday night, we- It wasn’t pretend anymore. But I said something this morning about the whole thing being a bit, about it being over. And she-"

Her voice cracked, just slightly. “She just… shut off. And left.”

Wanda was quiet for a moment, sipping slowly. Then, gently. “So let me get this straight. You took a girl you really like to a romantic weekend with your entire found family, made her feel wanted, kissed her like she was yours, slept with her and then reminded her it was all pretend?”

Natasha winced. “It wasn’t like that.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it?”

“She knew the deal. We were joking about it from the start.”

“And did you tell her when it stopped being an actual joke for you?”

Silence.

Wanda softened. “Nat… that girl looked at you like you hung the moon. I saw it. Everyone saw it.”

“She brushed me off.” Natasha said, quietly. “Didn’t even want to talk about it.”

“Because she was probably humiliated.” Wanda said, still kind but honest. “She gave you more than she meant to. And she probably thought you didn’t even notice.”

Natasha’s jaw tensed. “I did.”

Wanda set her mug down. “Then maybe it’s time to tell her.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You weren’t supposed to see her.

That was the whole point, sneak in, drop off the hoodie, grab Pepper’s flash drive and her backup files and get the hell out. You were already late, already unraveling.

Your bag felt like it weighed thirty pounds. You’d dropped your phone directly in some stupid water feature at the office and somewhere between your apartment and the security desk, your lanyard had vanished.

“Ma’am.” The guard said, definitively. “I can’t let you in without ID.”

“I work here.” You snapped, trying to keep your voice polite. “Well not here but for Pepper Potts so I kind of do! I’ve been in and out of this building for months.”

“And today…” He said, unmoved. “…you don’t have ID.”

“I just need to go up and drop something off. I’m not trying to hack the Pentagon for god sake-"

“I need you to calm down.” He interrupted, like it was a reflex.

You bit down hard. “I am calm.”

“Ma’am.” The lead guard said, clearly already bored. “We’ve been over this. No ID, no entry.”

“I’m literally on the list-“

“There is no list.”

“I’ve been here dozens of time-“

“And today?” The younger guard cut in, smug. “You’re not cleared. So either step aside or-“

“I don’t have time to step aside! Do you not understand I’m trying to do my job?”

The younger one moved. “And so am I-“

“No, you’re being unreasonable! Just call Tony Stark.”

“We will not be bothering Mr Stark!”

“Call any of them, they know me!” You almost begged now.

"Yeah, yeah, they always do." He laughed. "Why don't you call him?"

"I can't because my phone isn't working-"

"Convenient. If you continue to harass the Avengers or any SHIELD agents, I'm gonna have to take you into custody."

"Custody? I WORK HERE!"

“Look ma’am, I need you to calm down and come with us.”

“No.” You snapped, chest tight now. “I am not being manhandled because I can’t find my damn badge when I WORK here!”

Before it could escalate further, he moved again, grabbed your arm, too hard.

You yanked back instinctively. “Get off me-“

That was it. He spun you, fast, one hand in the middle of your back, the other twisting your arm behind you. The cuffs were on before you could catch your breath. Too tight. Metal biting into skin. The hoodie you had clenched in your fingers, her hoodie, that had been dry cleaned and ironed was down crumpled on the dirty tiles. 

“I said stand down!” He barked, like you were some kind of threat. “Do you know how many stupid people I deal with a day? Pretending The Avengers know them?!”

“I do know them!”

The pressure on your wrist made your knees buckle. “Yes and I know Barack Obama.”

“No, wait- You’re hurting me!” You gasped, trying to squirm free, tears springing hot and sharp at the corners of your eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you-“

⋆⋆⋆⋆

“Security breach in the Lobby, Zone A.”

Friday's voice came through the tower’s comms, flat and automatic. Most people ignored it.

But Sam, glancing at the monitor, frowned. “What now?”

He tapped into the security feed, projecting it on the flat screen that hung on the wall in the common room and just as the camera came into focus. “Wait, is that-"

Natasha was already gone.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You were still protesting when the elevator doors opened, his voice echoing in your ear, loud enough for Natasha to hear and to almost sprint over.

“Little girls like you need putting in their place, it’s all women’s rights these days and you think you can do what you want.” He sneered, tightening the cuffs. “You just need a firm hand like me to put you in your place.”

You didn’t see her at first. You were too busy trying to breathe, wrists burning, arm throbbing from where it had been twisted up too far. Your voice had broken halfway through yelling.

And then. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Everything stopped. Natasha’s voice cut across the lobby like a gunshot. The guards froze.

You turned, dazed. She was stalking toward you, red-faced, furious, lethal. She didn’t care who was watching.

“Take those off her. Now.”

The younger guard stammered. “Ma’am, she- she was uncooperative-“

“She works here. She’s cleared under Pepper Potts’ access and under mine.

He quickly worked to undo the handcuffs and it took one look at your face for Natasha to crumble. You knew you probably looked a mess, tear streaked cheeks, pouting with your arm held by your other, rubbing softly over where the pain was currently throbbing, drops of blood running down your arm from where he had inappropriately tightened the handcuffs. 

Natasha was in his face now, pure venom in her voice. “She’s bleeding. She was detained over what? A lanyard and a bad attitude? You think that justifies twisting her arm? Do I look like I tolerate that kind of shit?”

No one answered.

“Did she ask for clearance?”

“She said to call you but- Ma’am- Agent Romanoff, a lot of people ask to see you. Fans and-“

“I’ve heard enough.” She silenced him, turning to you, hands already at your wrists.

Her fingers were feather-light as she ran her fingers over  the marks the cuffs left, like even touching them hurt her more than you.

Your breath shuddered.

“Come on.” She said softly, eyes locked on yours now. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Natasha didn’t say a word as she led you through the tower. No more guards. No apologies. Just her hand hovering close to your back, not touching but there if you needed it.

Her room was dark and quiet when she opened the door for you. Unfamiliar but predictably minimalist. The hoodie you’d meant to return was still clutched in your good hand, wrinkled and useless now.

She flicked the bathroom light on, rummaged silently through the cabinet and returned with a small kit.

“Sit.” She said, gently, nodding toward the bed. 

You sat, too tired to argue, too raw to speak.

She knelt between your legs without hesitation, ignoring the squeeze in her chest. She didn’t say much, just moved with quiet purpose, opening the first aid kit, switching on a soft lamp. Her touch was gentle as she cleaned your wrists, one hand steadying you, the other dabbing antiseptic with controlled care. Almost too gentle. Like she was scared you might flinch away.

Her eyes kept flicking up to your face, trying to read you, trying to make sense of what she’d done, what she hadn’t said.

You flinched slightly when her fingers grazed a nasty spot on the inside of your wrist. “Sorry.” She murmured.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“I had this dry cleaned and ironed but now-“ Your voice cracked as you placed the hoodie on the bed, the day weighing heavily. “Now it’s creased and he made me drop it.”

“Shhh.” She soothed. “It’s okay. It’s okay. They shouldn’t have hurt you.”

You didn’t speak, just looking down at her to finally meet her eyes. 

“I hate that you got hurt.” She murmured, voice low. “I hate that it happened here, where you were supposed to be safe.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s not the point.” And then she reached out, slow, careful and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. Her hand lingered. Your breath caught. The look between you shifted, it was too warm, too familiar. 

You didn’t know who leaned in first.

But suddenly, her mouth was on yours.

A kiss that meant too many things. And for a moment, just a moment, you self indulged and let you let it happen.

Until the weight came crashing back. You pulled away with a sharp inhale, standing too fast. “I can’t.”

“Wait-“

“I shouldn’t have come. I just- I need to go. Pepper is waiting and I-“

You turned, heading for the door but her hand caught your arm, not tight, just grounding. “Please.” Her voice was almost a beg. “Don’t go. Just… talk to me.”

You stopped. What did you have to lose anyway?

“The weekend wasn’t fake to me.”

She didn’t speak.

You turned back around, heart pounding. “I know it started out as just some fun but I didn’t pretend. I wasn’t acting. And you were- God, you were so there. And then the second it was over, it was like none of it mattered.”

Natasha opened her mouth but you kept going, hurt spilling out like a slow unraveling.

“You kissed me like you meant it. You held me like it mattered. And then you went back to pretending. You shut me out. You made me feel stupid for believing any of it meant something. And I shouldn’t be blaming you because I knew this was fake and I’m a big girl. It’s my fault if I felt something and you didn’t but I-“

Her eyes flickered. “I did.”

“What?”

“I did feel something- I do feel something.”

You hesitated. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I didn’t know how.”

She stepped closer, carefully, like she was afraid of breaking whatever was left between you.

“You’re not stupid. You’re not overreacting. I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I should’ve said it then, I should’ve stopped pretending sooner. But it was real for me, too.”

You stared at her, trembling, still a little breathless.

“You’re not just saying it?” Your voice came out so small, it shattered Natasha’s heart just a little. 

“I’ve pretended to be a lot of things but this? I never pretended to want you.”

And when she kissed you this time, it wasn’t desperate.

It was an apology and a new beginning all in one.

You let her guide you backwards, falling slow into the sheets, her mouth never leaving yours. Her hands moved with confidence now, familiar, dragging your jacket down your arms, fingers ghosting under the hem of your shirt like a promise.

You arched up into her, breath hitching when her mouth trailed along your jaw. She was just starting to slide over you fully, knee between your thighs, when-

Bzzz. Bzzz.

You groaned. “You have got to be kidding!”

Natasha reached over without looking, snatched the phone from the nightstand, glanced at the screen, and smiled. wicked, unhurried.

“It’s Pepper.”

You sat up halfway, flushed and disoriented. “Oh god- Just ignore it!"

But she’d already answered. “Potts, now’s really not a good time.”

A pause.

Then Natasha glanced at you, smile deepening as she looked you over, shirt half-off, lips kiss-bitten. She’s… extremely unavailable.”

You couldn’t hear Pepper’s reply but Natasha eye-rolled fondly. “Pepper, I will do anything you want me to do if you just give us 30 minutes-“ She smirked. “Make it an hour and then I’ll come over and help you myself.”

She hung up before Pepper could reply, tossed the phone somewhere behind her and leaned back down with a smirk.

“Now.” She murmured against your throat. “Where were we?” You laughed, breathless and buzzing.

And then you stopped thinking altogether.

[buckyalpine]

I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.

He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.

"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.

"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.

"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.

"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...

"I-

"For the stain"

"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.

"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...

"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.

"Good God"

"Jesus"

"You look fuckin' good terminator"

"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.

"Body shots!"

"What?"

"Yes"

Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.

"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"

He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.

"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-

"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.

"How much has he had to drink"

"Who cares, me next"

"I think you've licked enough of my husband"

"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"

"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"

"Blink twice if you need help"

"Bro looks like an angel"

"Why aren't you blinking"

"Crafted by the heavens"

"You like this, don't you"

Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.

[httpvomitello]

hello again beautiful person :)

could I please request Tom Holland Peter Parker x gf reader where reader wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t fall back asleep

so she asks FRIDAY to call Peter to come to her room and he walks across the whole compound with the messiest bedhead, squinting cause he can barely keep his eyes open to come cuddle reader back to sleep?

thank you so much, have a lovely rest of your week💕

Hiii again, wonderful person. I hope you like it and also have a great week too! ~ ♡♡

In the Middle of the Night .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: When you wake up and can’t sleep, one call is all it takes to summon your very sleepy (and very adorable) boyfriend Peter Parker from across the compound… bedhead and all.

peter parker x f!reader

(Part 2)

You blinked at the ceiling in the dark, tangled in the sheets that suddenly felt far too cold and too big without anyone beside you.

It had been one of those nights. You’d fallen asleep just fine, only to bolt upright two hours later with your heart racing, your mind buzzing with every unfinished thought and old anxiety you hadn’t sorted through during the day.

You’d tried everything — flipping your pillow, sipping water, counting backward from 100 — but the silence only made things louder in your head.

You turned toward the window, watching the city twinkle faintly in the distance.

“FRIDAY?” you whispered.

The AI’s soft voice filled the room instantly. “Yes, Miss Stark?”

You hesitated, then bit your lip. “…Is Peter still in his room?”

A pause. Then: “He is. Asleep.”

You didn’t even try to feel guilty.

“Can you… wake him? Tell him I can’t sleep.”

Another pause. “Of course.”

Peter was in the middle of a very confusing dream involving a raccoon with Steve Rogers’ voice and a mechanical cupcake when a soft chime filled his room.

“Mr. Parker,” FRIDAY said gently, “Miss Stark is requesting you in her quarters.”

He sat up too fast and nearly face-planted off the bed.

“Huh—what? S-she okay?”

“She’s fine,” the AI assured him. “She just can’t sleep.”

Peter blinked blearily in the dark, hair sticking up in all directions. His hoodie was half on, half twisted around his torso, and he still had a sock hanging off one foot.

“Okay. Yeah. Gimme a sec.”

He stumbled to the door, forgetting both his slippers and how light switches worked, before finally navigating the hallway with nothing but the glow of emergency lights and pure boyfriend determination.

You heard the door slide open a few minutes later, and then came the softest voice:

“Babe?”

You looked up from your pillow.

There he was — your knight in wrinkled sweatpants.

His curls were a mess, his eyes squinty with sleep, and he had one arm in his hoodie sleeve and the other completely forgotten, dragging behind him like a cape.

You smiled, heart melting instantly. “Hey.”

He blinked at you. “You okay?”

You nodded. “Just… couldn’t sleep.”

Peter walked toward the bed like a zombie. “Should I punch a nightmare?”

You giggled. “No. I just… wanted you here.”

That woke him up a little more. He softened as he reached the bed, crawling under the blankets without a word. He immediately pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you with that gentle strength you loved so much.

“You should’ve called me earlier,” he mumbled, already halfway back to sleep. “I’m your certified cuddle provider.”

You buried your face in his chest, the warmth of his body chasing away the chill of the empty bed.

“You walked here like a sleepy little gremlin,” you whispered.

Peter hummed, fingers brushing over your hair. “Gremlin in love.”

You laughed quietly. “You forgot your sock.”

“…Knew I felt unbalanced.”

He held you tighter. “This better?”

You nodded against him. “Perfect.”

There was a long pause.

Then Peter whispered, half-asleep, “Tell your dad not to shoot me for this.”

You smiled. “He already knows. FRIDAY told him.”

Peter groaned into your hair. “Betrayed by technology.”

You snuggled closer, your eyelids finally growing heavy.

“Thanks for coming,” you murmured.

Peter pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his voice barely a breath.

“Always.”