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bistevethor · 3 years

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Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

#steve rogers #fic rec #pro steve rogers #i guess i'll tag the ships #samsteve #thundershield

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agirlwhoisaphantom · 3 years

Text

Into you- Steve Rogers x Reader

Professor!Steve Rogers

Summary: Steve Rogers has been your Professor for a while now and now that you were in person he had been sending you mixed signals.

18+

Word Count: 1800

Warning: Blow Job, deepthroat, professor kink, um a hint of praising

Author's Note: My friends and I decided to do Marvel Professor AU and well I decided to do Steve.

Professor Steven Rogers, it was hard to focus in class due to him being so handsome.

Having Zoom classes for the first half of your semester made it so much easier to focus on what he was teaching instead of how good-looking he was. But hearing his voice didn’t help either.

Transitioning to in-person classes, you were so nervous.

Professor Rogers was more handsome in person. His broad shoulders were amazing, his ocean blue eyes, his perfect hair and him being 6’0, wait- are you daydreaming again. No, no, focus on what is being taught.

Besides Prof Rogers being the handsome guy, he was such a fun professor to have. Everyone loved having him as a history professor. He focused more on making sure his students would have a fun time learning than having their heads stuck on a book. His classes would usually fill up within the first day of registration.

Oddly enough, whenever he would grade an assignment, there would always be a wink face written on your paper. You would look around at other students, and they would have a smiley face. You didn’t think much of it since you did amazing on your assignments most of the time.

You were a little shy to ask him why he was giving you random winks on your papers; meanwhile, he wouldn’t do it for other students. “Professor Rogers- can I ask you a quick question about something?” you tuck your hair behind your ear and look onto the ground focusing on the nice shoes he had on.

“Call me Steve. And yeah, what’s up?” he continues to wipe down the board.

Grabbing the sleeves on your shirt and start pulling them downwards, hiding your hands from him. “ I was wondering about the small notes on my paper” your voice got small, but it was loud enough for him to hear you.

Steve turns around to face you, and he notices your face was facing downwards, and your cheeks were bright red “if it makes you uncomfortable. I can stop writing them down” a worried look formed on his face as he knits his own eyebrows together. He never thought that he would make you feel uncomfortable, and if Steve did, he needed to know to stop doing it.

Your eyes slowly roamed from his shoes to his face as you lifted your head to have a clearer view of how he looked like. “no- it’s not that. I truly don’t mind. I was just wondering why you were doing it” you started swaying back in fourth. You were nervous to talk to him.

A soft chuckle escaped his mouth “are you a bit nervous, darling?” he places his hand on his waist and observes the reaction you had.

“no- not at all” you could feel your face burning. You could already imagine how red your face must be. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m heading home now. Thank you for your time, Steve.”

Before walking away, Steve grabs your arm and tries to stop you “hey, we should go to my office. I can make you a cup of tea or coffee to help you relax” You nodded in agreement.

As you two were walking to his office, he asked you a couple of questions about yourself. Such as what you did for fun outside of school? Do you have any pets? Etc. He wanted to get to know you. He knew it was completely wrong to do. But something about you caught his attention since the first day of classes.

Walking into his office, you didn't think that it'll be cosey, but it was instead of having a normal table for students to sit on. He had small bean bag chairs and a complimentary chair. His lights were dimmed and, on the walls, there were frames with pictures of the Avengers.

Steve notices you are staring at a particular one with Natasha, Banner, Tony, Thor, and Clint. He chuckles as he pours hot water into a mug "2012, to be honest, I don't quite remember what happened, but it was crazy" he starts walking towards the shelf full of boxes of different types of tea's and pull out a packet that flavored lavender with honey.

You gave him a brief smile as he hands you the mug with hot water "thank you."

He sits down on the bean bag chair and copies his motion on sitting on the one next to him. "so, as I was saying-"

"why was I drawing Winkey faces on your papers" he interrupts you. He already knew what you were going to say. He takes a big gulp since he knew that what he would say next would make him potentially lose his job. "I've liked you for a while. And I know telling you this will jeopardize my job, and I may lose my job because of it. But I needed to tell you this." He gets up and looks outside of his window, facing his back towards you. There isn't turning back. He said it already.

You were completely shocked. You weren't sure what to say or what to do. One thing you knew is that you wouldn't want to jeopardize his career nor want Steve to lose his job. You stand and start walking to where he was standing. Placing your hand on his bicep and slowly moving it, "Steve, I feel the same way about you. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about this interaction."

Steve takes a big breath that not only you felt the same way towards him but that no matter what happened in the four walls, it won't go into the outside world.

He turns around to face you and places his hand on your cheek, and gently started to move his thumb against your skin. Even though you told him how you felt, there was something else that was addicting to him. He didn't know if it could have been the way you dressed or the way you were so kind-hearted, but something about you was like an addiction to him.

Steve stares at you with these soft eyes and a smile. Without a second thought, he wanted to know what your lips tasted like. He presses his lips against yours, roughly kissing you. Steve pulls away, unsure what he had done. "I'm sorry I-"

Getting on your toes and placing your hands on both sides of his face, you rapidly pull him into you slamming your lips onto yours. You both put every ounce of frustration into the lip lock, and greedily you took it. You have been craving this moment since the day you had met him.

"Darling, with that short skirt and high thigh socks. You were very distracting today," he whispered onto your lips as his hands were moving from your face towards your waist. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer towards him feeling your body against his.

Humming against his lips, "I didn't mean to be Professor."

Steve's hand roams your body again, placing his hand underneath your skirt and cupping your cheek. "I don't believe you one bit. But there is a way you can make it up to me for being such a big distraction" pulls away from your embrace.

You noticed Steve’s eyes were darkened, full of lust. He leans in forwards near your ear and gives a growl, “on your knees, little one.”

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly kneel on the floor in front of him. You start to unzip his pants and slightly wiggle them, pulling his cock out. As it was right in front of you, you slightly widened your eyes in surprise. He had a thick, veiny, large penis. You place your hand around his cock, giving it a few pumps. Your thumb brushing on his swollen head caused you to lick your lips.

You proceed to pull his pants down to his thighs. His cock leaking precum. With a moan, you opened your mouth wide, holding your tongue out. Steve quietly growled underneath his breath. You flutter your eyes as you press your tongue against his tip, catching the drip of precum. “fuck, just like that,” he whispered. Your lips were pressed against the head of his cock as your hand was jerking his length. Flicking your tongue on his tip and gently kissing it.

A sharp breath left Steve’s lips as you were wrapping your lips around him. You were heavy sucking on the head of his cock, gently moving your tongue around his flesh as your hands were occupied with pumping the base.

Steve tried to be quiet be he couldn’t. He places his hand on your head, wrapping your hair around his fingers. He started to guide you and gently control your movements. Cupping one of his balls in your right hand, you were rolling them and squeezing them. You wanted to try something, so you remove your hand and decide to slowly take more length inside of your mouth. Gagging as the head brushed over your sensitive part of your mouth.

Moaning around him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Seeing the reaction, he was having was priceless. With the effort to swallow down what was left, you tried to ignore your gag reflex. When he felt the reflex against his cock “fuck, fuck- little one, you feel so good.”

Chocking and gagging, spittle and drool leaking down your chin. As the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. You have dreamt of this day for a long time. Wondering how he would taste like.

“fuck, fuck, I’m going to cum” Steve chanted as he growled. Having a stronger grip on your hair. Tenderly yet demanding shoved his cock in further down your throat. After a couple of more pumps and head movements from up and down his cock his cum hits the back of your throat, making him want to push him off, but you wanted all of him.

Steve was above you, slowly letting go of his tight grip and massaging and running his fingers through your hair. “Next time you know, you can’t be wearing things that can be distracting, little one.”

Pulling his cock out of your mouth, he pulls up his pants and sits right next to you on the floor. He grabs the box of kleenex and helps you wipe your mouth.

Steve pulls you in to hold you into his arms “are you okay?”

Placing your head onto his chest, it felt like you were finally at peace. You briefly nodded in agreement that you were okay.

“Don’t worry, darling. One day, I’ll take you home, and I’ll pleasure you instead,” he whispers into your ear seductively.

#steve rogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #captain america #captain america x you #steve rogers smut #marvel smut #avengers smut #avenger x reader #avengers x y/n #professor!steve rogers

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plainlo-inthemorning · 3 years

Text

A Loki TVA/Lokane fic. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 5

He is aware that the love of his life is digging her fingers into his arm and saying his name.

He is aware of Stark standing to his other side, visor off, speaking to someone on the phone. His voice is hard.

But most of all, Loki is aware that all their lives were just changed by a great big terrifying rip in the seam of reality.

Neither Jane nor the Avenger could possibly be completely sure of what they saw. Loki, as much as he desperately wants to, harbors little doubt.

The man he held in a death-grip only minutes ago and who just now disappeared through a doorway conjured out of thin air was somehow … himself.

Another him. Just as the man had said.

After witnessing from afar the double kiss Jane, Loki, who was coming back from a swim, had been more than ready to skip past introductions and just sever the intruder’s head from his body.

But as soon as he had laid hands on him, a torrent of images had flooded his mind – chaotic, confused images that seemed to span past, present, future and beyond.

The shock had made him lessen his grip and the double had used his (his!) magic to throw him off.

With some distance between them and Stark suddenly there as well, Loki had tried to let his rage quell the dizzying realization. Unsuccessfully.

He is still shaking, clutching a dagger in each hand. He drew them instinctively as the other made for the door.

He should have caught him!

“Loki! What did he say?!”

“What?” His thoughts are racing in too many directions to hear her.

“The … man, what was he saying to you?!”

Jane is looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, worry and urgency all over her delicate features. Though not fear, Loki notes. His ever-brave wife. Both her hands are now clamped around his wrist.

That thing kissed her.

The daggers disappear and Loki wraps both arms around the mother of his unborn child, almost crushing her to his chest while still staring at the spot where the double vanished.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love”, he murmurs. He suspects things are very much not okay.

So does Jane, of course.

“Loki, was it … oof, not so tight … “

She wriggles against him, and he remembers his amor. And her condition. He immediately relaxes his arms a bit while letting the leather and metal melt back into the clothes he wore before: Black jeans and a fitted, dusty green t-shirt (his “rockstar outfit”, Jane had called it, when Loki first started switching up his human wardrobe some years ago now). Drops of saltwater still cling to the ends of his slightly curly raven locks.

“Tony! Jane, Loki! What on Earth was that?”

Pepper jumps out of the car parked in front of the house and runs towards them. She must have seen everything as she drove down the road following her flying husband.

“The verdict’s still out, Peps”. Tony nods at Loki. “You wanna chip in here? I just called the boy-scout at headquarters and told him to be on guard for one of the magician’s interns playing a prank”.

Loki shakes his head slowly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Stephen had anything to do with this”.

“You’re right, I didn’t”.

All four of them turn around to see the sorcerer step out of a swirling ring of light, his cape billowing around him. The mahogany floor and paneled walls of his Manhattan mansion are briefly visible behind him before the portal closes with a hiss of little sparks.

Strange is wearing an even sterner expression than usual which only adds to Loki’s growing sense of dread.

Tony, however, groans loudly.

“Dude, really? Couldn’t you at least have let us have dinner before party crashing? Not shaming your bachelor lifestyle or anything, but this was couples’ night!”

“Tony!�� Pepper hits her husband on the arm.

Strange ignores him.

“I’m afraid the arrival of your surprise visitor indicates that a set of … unfortunate events have been set in motion”.

As always, his voice is as even as if he was reading the weather forecast, but by now Loki has learned to differentiate the (very) subtle nuances between scorn and sincerity. Strange places his hands behind his back and regards them coolly. “I’ve had Wong reach out to Doctor Banner and director Fury. They should be here shortly. Stark, you may want to-”.

Tony narrows his eyes, lip twitching.

“Hey, Bleeker Street, you know I have low tolerance for you showing up and barking orders without giving two f**** for context. How did you even know that something was going down here? By all means, don’t keep us in suspense until the cavalry gets here”.

Strange doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes dart to Jane sends needles through Loki’s heart.

“Let’s go sit down, shall we?” With one eyebrow raised, Strange puts on a suave smile and gestures towards the house. The effect is a little startling.

Jane ducks out from under Loki’s arms. “Jane, don’t you want to-“. She brushes him off.

“Yes, good idea, Stephen. Let’s go sit down”. She motions for Strange to follow. “Welcome to our home. I was actually making drinks before, but I think I need to add a bit more kick to them…”

Her voice is oddly calm, and Loki fights the urge to grab her and magic them both far, far away, not caring that she would be furious with him for making decisions on her behalf.

He’s brought back to the present by an even odder sound as Strange actually chuckles.

Loki is not sure he’s ever heard it before. Then again, it’s not that he really knows Strange when it comes down to it. Like Tony, Loki finds the wizard exceedingly arrogant.

Pepper is the first to follow Jane and Strange across the lawn while Loki and Tony hang back.

“Real ladies’ man when he wants to. Who would have thought”. The billionaire superhero scoffs. His suit has folded itself off and into a briefcase next to his feet.

“Tony-“

“Uh oh. First name basis. So this really is an emergency”.

Loki faces his friend. Often in the past years, as they’ve grown steadily closer outside of “work”, he has secretly marveled at how long they’ve come since someone threw someone else off a building after being called a diva.

And attacking a city with an alien army.

Jane always insisted the two “hotheads” (her word) had a lot in common when not trying to murder one another (be it with weapons or sarcastic commentary), and Loki has to admit she was right. The metal man is fiercely intelligent, and Loki has been enjoying the quick-witted snark between them infinitely more than he ever valued the company of Thor’s band of gullible warrior groupies on Asgard.

“Well?”. Tony is regarding him with eyebrows raised, expectant. “Give me your take on this cause I’m starting to put together some rather outlandish theories myself here that I’m kinda hoping you’ll thwart ASAP”.

Loki draws in a deep breath.

“That thing with Banner at the tower two years ago-“

“Fuck!” Tony exhales, exasperated. “I knew you were gonna say that”. He squints into the distance towards the ocean, his mouth a tight line. It’s a rare day that Tony Stark is caught under a clear blue sky without sunglasses but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

Loki takes a step closer to him and lowers his voice so they won’t alert the others just yet.

“I told you then and you didn’t want to listen! Everything about Bruce’s story was off. I know he didn’t remember much after Steve took him down, but you all pretty much accused me of trying to get back at him for, well, you know what, and I kept telling you I thought someone had gotten to him! Now-“

Loki searches for the words. It’s beyond absurd.

“That man was a version of me, Tony. I have no idea how, but I felt it. I saw into his mind. It was filled with images from my past and then … other, recent memories. Dark ones. He came from nowhere. Literally. It didn’t feel like a place. I tried to discard it as a trick, you saw that, but…” Loki runs his hand through his moist hair. “Stephen obviously felt something tear open too. And that is not a good sign”.

He has Tony’s full attention.

“Tear open? Could this other you be associated with your old boss? With Thanos?”

Loki winces.

“No, I don’t think he’s involved”, he says sharply. “But I can’t be sure …”

Tony catches his tone pats his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Shake it off. Didn’t mean to suggest anything. Let’s say he’s not. I’d much prefer that, at least until the wizard presents us with an even uglier imminent threat to the universe. Which, judging by the fact that he’s even here, willingly sipping cocktails in your kitchen as we speak, he probably will”.

Tony throws his hands up with a dramatic air.

“And here I thought the most challenging part of this weekend would be to convince you two to come see Hamilton with us in the city next week!”

“Who’s-“

“Never mind. Did you get a look at that gadget your guy was holding? Boy, he looked like an office slave who’d slept under his desk for a month before getting fired, didn’t he? Were you ever into accounting yourself by any chance?”

Loki shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Immediately he sees the image of the double kissing Jane, his arms wrapped firmly around her supple body. Rage rushes right back through him and his eyes snap open.

“Stark - I can’t. But yes, I did notice the device. It looked like a phone”.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think it was the new iPhone”.

Tony shakes his head.

“The two of us and we didn’t take him down. Fury’s gonna have our badges”.

The director of SHIELD and Bruce Banner arrive barely 15 minutes later through a portal in the middle of the meadow-like lawn, following Wong and both looking grim and out of place as they weave around patches of wildflowers to reach the porch.

“Gentlemen, I trust you’re well”. Loki greets the trio with an only vaguely sarcastic nod as he holds open the screen doors to them, like a good host. Despite what some may still think, he can behave.

He could have just used magic of course, but he figures Banner is freaked enough as it is just by being here. The scientist hasn’t spoken more than five words to him since 2014 and at least three of them were expletives.

Once inside the small living room, Bruce goes to stand by the window and busies himself polishing his glasses with a little too much vigor than seems warranted.

He avoids Loki’s eyes but looks up and smiles wearily as Jane comes over to say hello.

Fury leans against the doorframe to the hallway and crosses his arms, face a closed book, and, by the sound of it, Tony is going through the cabinets in the kitchen trying to find something to spice up Jane’s pre-dinner cocktails.

Pepper is talking to Strange and Wong on the blue IKEA couch (assembled by magic after the attempt to go at it “as a team” turned into a shouting match), and Loki is about to politely ask Strange to please spit it out right this minute, when Jane is next to him, taking his hand.

“We need to talk. Now”.

Her voice is low and steady but her eyes insisting. She squeezes his fingers.

He squeezes back. “Come”.

Loki looks to Fury but he’s focused on Strange who’s listening very closely to something Wong’s saying.

Not letting go of Jane’s hand, he turns towards the kitchen. In the doorway they pass Tony who’s now holding what appears to be a glass of scotch. He must have given up on the gin and tonics.

“Hey, where are you two going? Forget about playing hosts okay, let’s just get started with part two of the evening’s entertainment”.

“In a minute”.

Jane pushes past him, ignoring Tony’s look and dragging Loki with her.

She closes the door behind them.

“Okay, so…” Jane looks around nervously in the small kitchen with the rustic white fronts and old brass handles. She loves that kitchen. They haven’t changed a thing since moving in. Loki reaches for her, but she takes a step back. “Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten there faster. Did he …“

“I need you tell me exactly what he said to you”.

She is absentmindedly opening and closing her fists in the way she does when that brilliant astrophysicist mind of hers is working out an intricate problem in the lab.

Or, Loki knows, when she’s about to deliver him bad news.

He clears his throat. “He said he was me. And that something big was happening”. There. “And then he said he was sorry”.

Jane studies his face.

“That he was sorry? For what?”

“He didn’t say. He stepped through the door”.

Jane is quiet and now it’s Loki’s turn to try and read her expression.

“What did he say to you? I assume he pretended to be me …?”

Jane holds up a hand and bites her lip. Loki swallows.

“Loki, when we were staying at the flat in London, after we defeated Malekith…”

“What?” Loki furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are we-“

“The poison from the monster’s blade, it had you slipping in and out of consciousness for days. You were so feverish…”

“Yes, I know. I was there”. Loki’s blood is slowly turning very cold, but he musters a smile. “And you were amazing, love. Although some might say you took adv-“

Jane interrupts him in the middle of his blossoming smirk. A slight blush appears on her own cheeks.

“Yes, um, it’s not about that day”. She gives him a stern look. “The other day, later, when Thor left after you two went and had your, um, talk … there’s something I need to tell you …”

The door to the living room opens behind them.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Doctor Foster, I would very much like to hear this too”.

Stephen Strange steps into the kitchen. The door closes behind him.

Part 6

#loki #loki series #lokane #tva loki #loki fanfic #loki ff #lokane ff #lokane fanfic #loki x jane #jane foster #shine a light #plainlo inthemorning #doctor strange #stephen strange #tony stark

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hela-avenger · 4 years

Text

To the Stars Who Listen- Part 3

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1583

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: And so it begins! Thanks for all the likes/reblogs/comments everyone! I see them and I appreciate them! I’ll probably be updating every Tuesday and Thursday now so there’s that. Tags are open!

TTSWL Masterlist

You feel like you’re floating in the middle of a dark pool surrounded by cold and unknown waters. It is relentless in its attempts to drag you down into nothing. Some part of you desires to just let yourself sink and try to ground yourself to whatever you find below. It would be so easy and yet a part of you knew that if you allowed yourself to reach the bottom you would be unable to float up once again.

So you fight against the rising tide to keep your head above the water. It doesn’t take long then to be pulled out of that darkness.

“She’s waking up.”

“She can’t,” someone mumbles next to you. “That tranq should have kept her under for the rest of the night.”

“It’s the power within her. Must have adapted around the sedative to wake its host up from it. The power won’t be put so easily to rest.”

“Then do something about it!”

“I can’t until she’s fully conscious!”

As if on cue, your eyes flutter open. Your eyelids feel heavy and the brightness in the room doesn’t help your sudden weak state.

“What’s-” you voice cracks and your tongue feels so foreign in your mouth. “What’s going on?”

Your sight blurs in and out but you recognize that bright red hair from anywhere.

“Nat?”

“Hey, Y/N,” she whispers beside you. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You can’t help but feel suddenly angry at the lie that she’s so blatantly telling you at the moment.

“Liar, liar,” you mutter through gritted teeth. “Pants on...”

A hand is quick to cover your mouth and you move to shove it off only to find your hands handcuffed to the hospital bed.

“That would have not bode well and you know that.”

You glare at your assailant only to find Loki staring down at you with a grin. The anger doesn’t fade away at the sight of him. It seems to enhance and he takes notice of it too.

“Everyone out!”

Your eyes snap away as you take in the crowd that’s in the room. Everyone is apparently there and you find this sudden urge to yell at them for staring.

“We’re not-” Tony starts to say before Loki cuts him off.

“She’s still quite volatile and until she gains some ounce of control, she will not stop until you are all disposed of.”

With that warning, they all have no other choice but to leave. They all shoot you a sympathetic look and you despise it. You don’t know why you’re feeling so darkly about your friends but you couldn’t stop it.

“I know,” Loki whispers as he looks down at you. “I know you are quite confused, but I’m going to let go of you now and I hope you can rein in your emotions and be civil with me.”

His honesty is oddly refreshing and you find yourself relaxing under his hold. True to his word, he releases you and you watch closely as he retreats into the seat next to you.

“I’m sure you have questions.”

“So, so many, don’t know where to begin,” you answer. “My head is spinning and I see no end.”

You frown at the choice of words that flowed out of your mouth so casually.

“Why am I rhyming? Why can’t I stop? Tell me now before my head drops.”

“I will answer your questions but I need you to remain calm,” Loki responds. “Can’t have you losing your head... literally.”

You take a deep breath trying your best to ease your mind, but it was hard. You didn’t know what was going on and why, out of everyone you knew, Loki was the one assisting you with it.

“You seemed surprised to find everyone here,” Loki states. “Do you not remember how you got here?”

You shake your head feeling uneasy of not having any recent memories since the museum.

“You found a book, one of mine, known as the Book of Veritas,” Loki explains. “Essentially, you got too close to it and it unleashed a power to you. I’m not sure exactly the extent of your abilities but I do know that you will have a knack of always knowing the truth of whoever you meet.”

He pauses as you try to make sense of everything you’ve been told. Oddly enough, some innate part of you told you he wasn’t lying which further proved that his explanation was indeed right.

“Now, as for your rhyming tongue,” Loki takes a deep breath and shrugs. “I can only presume that this new psychic development is one your mortal mind isn’t capable of withstanding. You are overwhelmed and your mind has reverted to a default language to ease the strain.”

“This is not ok,” you mumble. “Am I stuck this way?”

“No, not if I can help it,” Loki answers. “The rhyming is getting on my nerves already.”

He frowns, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Don’t know why I told you that. Must be another side effect of yours.”

You open your mouth to respond but close it when you realize that whatever apologies you had would end up rhyming and sounding insincere.

Loki doesn’t question your silence and instead props his hand up for you to take. You find yourself hesitating even though something told you he meant no harm.

“I just need to assess the power you have,” Loki explains. “It’ll be quick and harmless.”

With that answer, you raise your hand as far as the handcuff allowed you to. Loki met you halfway and you instantly feel a warmth spreading through your body.

“Hmm,” he hums. “That’s surprising.”

He lets go of your hand and looks up at you.

“You’ve grown stronger since you first came in. Not strong enough to expel your power physically so we will have to do this the hard way.”

“Hard way?” you repeat.

“You need to dig deep and spread some truth.”

“How is that hard?”

“Because certain truths, the heaviest ones, we like to keep real close,” Loki explains. “You don’t remember this, but you pinpointed some of your friends' insecurities when you first came in. You were quite cruel with them.“

You frown at hearing this hoping your friends knew you hadn’t meant any of it. As if sensing where your mind had drifted to, Loki speaks up.

“They know it wasn’t you,” he assures you. “It’s all because of the power residing in you. There is no way to extract it without killing you so the solution here is to gain control of it. Seeing as I am the expert on the book and magic itself, I’m going to train you. So first, let’s get you back to speaking normally.”

You nod in response and take a deep breath.

“Speak the truth. Use me as a target if you wish. I like to think I’ve got thick skin when it comes to taunting.”

You hesitate at Loki’s offer, but you find it so easy to read him.

“Little Loki went into the Great Hall. Little Loki had a big fall. Little Loki was the laughing stock of them all. Little Loki felt so utterly small.”

Loki chuckles at the memory you brought forth. It was simple and childish. Yes it was embarrassing to fall in front of the royal court but it was just a drop in the ocean compared to everything else. He sits back in his chair and looks at you.

“Now I know you can do better than that,” Loki states. “Come on, dig deeper.”

You find yourself focusing a bit harder on him and the words just slipped out of your mouth with ease.

“Silver tongue turned to lead. Thor won her heart in your stead. Princess Elvira loved the royal prince. Loki wasn’t even offered a second glimpse.”

That one did make him wince but Loki wasn’t utterly devastated at the memory of the Alfheim princess favoring his brother over him. You were getting close to gaining some control but your rhyming tongue still stood strong.

“Dig deeper,” Loki repeats.

You take a deep breath and clear your mind of everything but Loki. Envisioning his image, his voice, his overall being.

Eyes turning red. Ivory skin turning blue. Cold, everything is cold.

“I…” you stammer out confused. “I’ll rather not say.”

Loki pauses wondering what it is that you saw but withheld from saying.

“Y/N.”

“No, it’s a secret for a reason,” you shake your head. “I don’t really understand what I saw exactly but it felt so dark.”

Loki knew better than to push you to state what you saw in him. He suspected already of the secret you might have uncovered. You had certainly dug deep if you managed to find it.

He shrugs it off like he always does and looks at you with a small smile.

“You didn’t rhyme that time,” Loki states. “You managed to not only control what truth to find but whether or not to say it. That’s progress.”

“Does that mean I can get these off?” you ask as you raise your cuffed wrists.

With a snap of his fingers, the handcuffs are pried open. You stare down at your freed wrists and look up at him in surprise. Last you were told, Loki was incapable of doing magic.

“How did you do that?”

Loki doesn’t deem you a verbal response as he offers you a grin before getting up and leaving you on your own.

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spooderboyandtincan · 4 years

Text

The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange

By @spooderboyandtincan for @iloveirondad

Rating: Not Rated

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & The Avengers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Harley Keener, May Parker, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), The Avengers, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes

Summary: Unbeknownst to Tony, Harley is bullying his kid.

Ao2 Link: Here

A/N: @iloveirondad Thank you so much for the prompt! It was so fun to write!

Peter couldn’t remember when he started referring to Tony as “Dad” in his head. But he could count on one hand the times he had actually called Tony that.

The first three times they had brushed it off, Peter blushing a dark red, Tony smiling into his palm and tears blooming in the corners of his eyes.

The fourth time, Peter lay in the medbay with a white bandage wrapped around his head and Mr. Stark clutching his hand tightly, and he had called him Dad. Tony had teared up (and began to cry) and said he would love it if Peter called him dad.

Peter had it all planned out. It was all he could think about the entire day, even in science when he was reprimanded for not paying attention. He’d jump into the car, grin, and say “Hi, Dad! Guess what score I got on the science quiz!”

He felt a warm rush every time he thought of it.

Peter rushed out of the school, shouting a quick goodbye to Ned. He flung the car door open. “Hi, D- oh. Happy? Umm, h-hi.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, kid,” said the driver. Peter shut the passenger door, sighing, and opened the back door.

“Where’s Mr. Stark?” he asked.

Happy met his eyes in the mirror. “Boss is at the penthouse. He has somebody he wants you to meet.”

Well, that sure cleared things up, Peter thought. Was it a doctor? A therapist? A scientist? His evil clone?

When he arrived at the penthouse, he wasn’t met with an insane doctor trying to kill his mentor with a bludgeon, just Tony and a kid sitting at the kitchen island, drinking strong coffee.

A kid.

A young man, he corrected himself. He was tall, far taller than Tony and much taller than Peter, with his hair wavy and styled with what must have been copious amounts of hair gel. He wore a red flannel shirt with sleeves he’d buttoned at the elbow, and ragged, torn up jeans with gray sneakers.

“Pete!” Tony exclaimed, jumping up to giving him a quick side hug and ruffling his hair. “Hey, buddy. How was school?”

“Fine. Who’s that?”

At his dreary response, Tony’s eyes glinted with worry. “This is Harley, kiddo. He’s staying here while he looks at colleges. And Harley, this is Peter.”

The young man, Harley, stepped forward, extending his hand. “Hey, Peter. Nice to finally meet you.”

Peter shook his hand and smiled, joining him at the kitchen island. “Nice to meet you too!”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” said Harley. “And I mean a lot.” He glanced towards Tony, who was bustling around, making hot chocolate and cider and getting snacks, oblivious. “It’s all he ever talks about. ‘Peter did this, Peter did that, guess what Peter’s doing right now.’” Harley rolled his eyes. “It gets pretty annoying, to be honest.”

“O-oh. Sorry?” Ouch.

“Eh. I can tolerate him,” he shrugged. Peter glanced down at the table, running his finger across the lines in the wood. They sat together, the only sounds coming from the clinking of a spoon against a pan as Tony made hot chocolate.

“So what are you?” Harley whispered suddenly, leaning forward. “His secret kid?”

He blinked. “No, no, um… I’m just his intern. Personal intern.” The lie sounded forced, even to him. He was Tony’s kid, biological or not.

“Right,” the young man said skeptically. Peter looked at the table awkwardly, before a plate of cookies was placed in front of him.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” Peter grinned.

“Of course, bud.” Tony pulled up a stool next to him, and Peter felt a warm hand on his back. He grabbed a cookie (double chocolate-chip) and sipped his mug of hot chocolate.

“It’s September,” Harley said suddenly.

“Indeed it is,” Tony replied, not looking up from the plate of cookies, hand hovering above them while he tried to decide which one he would take.

“So why are you drinking hot chocolate?” He looked at Peter, frowning and perplexed, like Peter had performed some unspeakable offense.

He blushed and took a large drink from his mug. “It-it’s just cold out. Y’know.”

Plus, he couldn’t thermoregulate. Most days he would do anything to get warm. Besides stealing Tony and Ned’s sweatshirts, he could (and would) down ten cups of hot chocolate in a single sitting.

Tony immediately jumped to his defense, sensing Peter’s discomfort at Harley’s not-so-kind words. He stood up and poured another cup for himself, looking Harley directly in the eye. “Cheers.”

Tony hid his smile behind the mug when Harley looked at him like You too?

~~~~~

“So, Tony, what have you been doing?” asked Harley. “I haven’t heard much about you, just Peter.”

The older man chuckled, twisting spaghetti between his fork and spoon. “Superhero duties keep me pretty busy, kid. Not much else to talk about.”

Harley scoffed. “Yeah, right. All those ‘superhero duties,’ and you have the time to… you can spend time with your personal intern?” He gestured to Peter.

Peter knew without looking that there was a tension in Tony’s shoulders, knew that every single instinct in him was screaming ‘protect Peter.’

I don’t need protecting.

But before Peter could say anything, Tony spoke up. “Maybe you can tell us?” he joked, keeping his tone light. “You seem pretty interested in my personal life.”

Harley pursed his lips and frowned. “I was just curious.”

Tony nodded but stayed silent, though he reached out to pat Peter’s back gently. Harley did seem oddly fascinated with Tony’s personal life and his relationship with Peter.

But who would blame him for being curious?

“Maybe that’s enough about me,” Tony said, trying to keep the air light. “Harley, how have you been?”

The other man snorted. “Boring. My sis just started high school, Mom got a new job, and I have a month till graduation.”

“That’s so cool!” Peter exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “What college do you wanna go to?”

“Anywhere away from Tennessee. Can’t wait to get out of that shit-hole.”

“Watch your language, there’s a kid.” Tony was only half-teasing. He covered Peter’s ears. “You may proceed, young sir.”

Peter shook Tony’s hands off his ears, though he could still hear perfectly fine. “I’ve always wanted to go to MIT! Do you think you might go there?”

“I told ya, kid, anywhere away from my house.”

~~~~~

Peter held back a gasp as thunder and rain pounded in his ears. Ow ow ow.

His attempts were useless, however, as Harley snorted and rolled his eyes, “Aww, you scared?”

Peter frowned at Harley’s sudden change in mood. “N-no.” He winced, both at the thunder and the way his voice cracked. “No. I’m not scared.”

It just hurts.

Peter listened carefully for Tony’s heartbeat, hoping the man would come to calm his nerves, but the storm had completely drowned him out. Even with his super-hearing he could only hear the pounding rain.

Tony had been dragged to a meeting by Pepper, who claimed his presence was absolutely necessary. He had hoped Peter and Harley could spend some “bonding time” together, but that wasn’t going too well.

It wasn’t going well at all.

Peter would give anything for Mr. Stark to realize that he needed him.

“Christ, what are you, a baby?” Harley snapped as Peter flinched. “Does Tony have to deal with this shit?”

Peter hid his face in his knees. You’re stronger than this. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. He squeezed his eyes shut, but one pearly tear slipped out.

Tony had seen him cry, more times to count, and always he was soft and gentle and kissed his temple, and wouldn’t let go of Peter.

“You crying, sweetheart?” Harley mocked, his voice high pitched and false. “Shit, you’re such a disappointment.”

Stop it stop it stop it. Harley’s words tore at his heart. Stop talking.

“Actual question, though,” he smirked. “Does Tony even care? It has to be a charity event, right?”

Tears leaked from Peter’s eyes. “No.”

Tony loved him, and had told him countless times how much. Tony loved him more than anything.

But Harley’s words drummed into his mind. He couldn’t help the tiny, almost unnoticeable sliver of doubt creep into his head.

Tony loved him.

Right?

“Lemme break it to you Parker.” Suddenly Harley’s hand was squeezing his shoulder almost unbearably tight. “He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. Trust me, it’s for publicity, and I know it. I know him.”

Tony would never, ever lie to him.

“Don’t touch me,” Peter whispered weakly. “You’re lying.”

“I’m doing you a favor, Parker you know that? You’re just a naïve little kid.” He squeezed his shoulder again. Peter was sure he had finger-print shaped bruises forming on his skin. “You don’t know anything.”

No no no Tony-

With that, Harley flopped back on the couch, winking maliciously at the other boy, and turning on the tv. Peter buried his head between his knees, trying to hide himself in the cushions.

Tony loved him. Peter was going to call him Dad.

“Hey, bud, what’s up?”

Peter jumped when Mr. Stark’s figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. Though he glanced down the moment Tony’s eyes met his, he could see the flash of worry and parental panic on his face at his tears.

“Hey, hey, oh no,” Tony murmured, rushing to his side. He squeezed next to him in the armchair and cupped his cheek with warm, gentle fingers, wiping his tears away. “No, honey, what’s wrong? Shh. Are you hurt? Do you feel bad?”

Peter shook his head frantically, not wanting to cause anymore heat between Harley and himself. Tony smiled warmly, though his eyes were worried and he was desperate to help his kid. “Really, bud? ‘Cause it sure doesn’t look like that.”

He glanced nervously at Harley, who sent him a warning glare.

“I’m fine.”

Tony sighed. Peter held back a gasp when he turned to Harley. “Kid, do you know what happened?”

The young man stood, faux worry crossing his face. “No. I have no idea. Is he okay?”

Another sigh rustled Peter’s curls. He blinked back tears, sensing how distraught Tony would be seeing him cry.

He slipped out of his hold and ran.

“Peter!”

~~~~~

Tony’s day, which had been going surprisingly well, upended the moment he got an alert from his AI.

The alert filled the screen of his phone when he picked it up, not that he wouldn’t have noticed anything that read ‘Peter’s emotional distress rate at 7/10 and rising.’

Of course, how could he have been so stupid? Peter’s senses must have been going insane while the storm pounded outside. Tony ran for the door, his chair falling back in the process.

Ignoring the exclamations of the old geezers behind him (“Stark, where do you think you’re going?”) he rushed up the stairs, knowing the elevator would take far too long.

“Hey, bud, what’s up?” he asked, attempting to hide his concern as he glanced at his kid, who was curled in an armchair with his head between his knees.

Shit.

When Peter looked up, Tony had just enough time to see his red eyes and the shiny tear tracks on his face.

“Hey, hey, oh no,” he cooed, hugging Peter tightly with one hand and wiping his tears away with the other. “No, honey, what’s wrong? Shh. Are you hurt? Do you feel bad?”

Tony’s worry was only slightly assuaged when Peter shook his head, because it was obvious his kid wasn’t okay.

“Really, bud? ‘Cause it sure doesn’t look like that.” Please, baby, tell me what’s wrong.

“I’m fine.”

Tony sighed. Oh, buddy. Hoping to retrieve some information to why his kid was so riled up, because sensory overloads always left him clinging to Tony, not shying away.

Something must have happened, and it terrified him.

“Kid, do you know what happened?”

“No. I have no idea. Is he okay?” Harley stood up, biting his lip and looking worried.

He glanced back to the boy, and was shocked when he flinched, and then broke from his hold and ran.

“Peter!” Tony jumped up to follow his kid.

“Pete, open the door, please,” he begged, knocking on the wood. “Let me help you, buddy, c’mon. Please.”

Silence.

“Please.”

Nothing.

He tested the doorknob and was surprised to find it wasn’t locked. “Petey, I’m gonna come in, just to check on you, okay?”

The door swung open and Tony stepped inside and-

The room was empty.

The window was wide open, curtains whipping back and forth in the wind, raindrops falling on the window sill.

He dashed to the window and leaned out, shielding his eyes from the rain. “Peter?!” He squinted, desperately trying to find the form of his precious spider-kid.

“FRIDAY-”

“Already on it, boss,” said the AI. “Tracking Peter.”

Tony barely noticed when the suit formed around him, too distracted by FRIDAY’s voice.

“Boss, I am unable to find Peter’s location.”

“Try again, call him,” he ordered, blasting straight through the window, glass shattering around him.

The phone rang.

And rang.

“Boss, he didn’t answer-”

“Try again.” He searched the tops of the buildings and the alleyways frantically, his suit focusing on every heat signature and determining it wasn't his kid.

Please, please, please be okay, Peter

The call rang. Peter didn’t pick up.

I’m coming Petey, I’ll find you

There-

A small figure with a bright blue hoodie.

Peter!

~~~~~

Peter wiped his tears away angrily and yanked on his mask. He didn’t bother to get the suit, just snapped on his webshooters, opened the window, and jumped.

He let himself fall for just a little too long, the wind screaming and whistling in his ears as he dropped.

He caught himself in barely enough time, his curls brushing the cement before he went shooting upwards.

Peter swung from building to building, gliding through alleys, jumping over gaps in apartments. He jumped down to the pavement and rubbed his eyes under the mask, then started walking in a feverish haze.

Mr. Stark loved him, right?

Of course he did!

It was so clear. When he looked in the man’s eyes they were filled with love and fondness and it was so obvious how much he cared- and when Tony cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead and spoke softly to him, like he was the only thing in the universe that mattered.

But Harley’s words had drilled doubt into his mind.

He gulped and tried to shake his thoughts away. Shut it, Parker. It’s not true. Shut up.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t silence his own thoughts that simply.

Does he love you? Does he?

Yes!

Are you sure?

...Yes.

Stop it it’s not true-

“Hey! Put your hands up.”

The hairs on his neck and arms prickled. He turned slowly, raising his arms.

He was met with the muzzle of a pistol.

“Dude,” he mumbled, sniffing and hoping his tears hadn’t leaked through his mask. “Not cool.”

“Spider-Man!” the woman gasped, the gun shaking slightly. “I-I didn’t…” she took a deep breath and steeled herself. Shaking away her ponytail and adjusting the ski mask on her head, she snapped, “I need money and you’re gonna give it to me.” She clicked the safety off the gun. “Isn’t that right, spidey?”

“Ummm, I don’t have a wallet- I mean I have one, I just didn’t bring it with me because… um… stuff like this happens,” Peter rambled. “I mean, no offense! I just like to plan ahead- actually I didn’t plan ahead, I kinda just jumped out of the window, but I mean, you get it, right?”

“What?” she snarled. “No excuses, Spider-Man. Give me the fucking money.”

“I’m telling the truth, lady. I don’t have any money! So if you could just put the gun down maybe we can hug it out?”

Normally he would have been faster, his reflexes quick and blinding, but when he had said “hug it out” he remembered how much he wanted a hug.

A hug from Tony.

And then there was a loud bang that nearly shattered his eardrums and bullet pierced through his side. And then another bang. And one more.

White hot pain radiated through his torso and Peter had to hold back a sharp cry. He doubled over in pain, clutching the bullet wounds. He could tell from experience that all three bullets were stuck in his flesh. Peter collapsed to the ground, blood already soaking the thick material of his sweatshirt.

It must have hit something important, he thought hazily.

The woman knelt next to him and turned his body over roughly. Peter whimpered as she elbowed his wound. She dug through the pockets on his hoodie and gave a disgusted curse when her now bloody hands found no money.

“Told ya,” he mumbled, gazing up at the night sky.

He’d forgotten it was raining. Had it been raining this whole time?

Peter liked the rain but he didn’t like thunder. It was too loud.

The villain stood up, cured again, and kicked his body in displeasure. He groaned. “Damn you, Spidey.” And then she ran.

At least she didn’t take off my mask, he thought. Peter blinked slowly and moved his hand to rest on his face.

It was getting hard to breathe, which probably wasn’t good. With his last ounce of strength, he peeled off his mask. Panting heavily, he realized too late that now he couldn’t call Tony.

(Shouldn’t have disabled that tracker)

“Tony,” he gasped. “Dad. D-Dad.”

He glanced up. Were those repulsors he heard in the distance? Or was it just his imagination?

~~~~~

“Peter!”

Iron Man sped towards the ground at breakneck speed, so fast that a warning alert popped up on his screen.

“Pete,” he whispered, landing with such force that he cracked the pavement. “Petey.”

He sprinted forward and collapsed to his knees and for a moment his hands hovered over Peter’s body, not sure what to do. “Baby.”

He dug his fingers into the boy’s pulse point. The beat was there, to his overwhelming relief, but weak and staggered.

Tony sobbed quietly, blood covering his fingers. “Petey- Petey, wake up,” he begged “I’m right here, kiddie, you just gotta wake up, okay?” Tony pulled Peter to his lap and cradled him against his chest with a gentle touch. “Please, baby. Wake up.”

He smoothed Peter’s bangs from his sweaty brow and kissed his forehead tenderly, trying to coax him awake, to let his kid know that he was right there.

The child’s eyes fluttered and Tony gasped. “Petey. Wake up, honey, you’re doing great. Open your eyes, bambino.”

“D-dad?” Peter rasped, blinking up at him.

“Oh, baby, I’m here, Dad’s right here,” Tony cooed, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb against the soft skin. He struggled to pull off his jacket and pressed it against Peter’s wound.

Peter gave a sharp cry. “Dad… it hurts. Stop! H-hurts!”

“I know it hurts, baby, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna help you, okay? You’re gonna be okay, honey,” he assured him with a gasp. God, he was hurting his kid. “We’re gonna go visit Helen, she’ll fix you right up. I just need you to hold on, okay? Hold on for me, please, Petey. I need you.”

Peter took a shuddering breath and whimpered. “Hur’s… hur’s, Dad.”

Tony nodded and squeezed his eyes shut, kissing the top of Peter’s head, wishing the horror of his baby, lying limp and bleeding out in his arms, wasn’t true. God, he wished this was just a horrible nightmare, wished he could wake up and find Peter safe and warm in bed.

“P-Pete, oh baby, I’m so sorry. I’m supposed to protect you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby.”

“No… ‘ony, don’ c-cry,” Peter slurred, reaching up a trembling hand. Tony grasped it like a lifeline and pressed his lips to the knuckles.

“Dad,” he mumbled. “Dad. D-do you… do you l-love me?

Tony stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, trying to grasp how his precious kid could think he, who loved him with his entire heart and soul, didn’t love him. His kid, who was his life, his entire universe.

“Peter,” he choked. “Petey, I love you so much, so so much. I love you more than anything, baby, I love you so much. I love you.”

Peter grinned hazily up at him. “K-knew it.”

And he exhaled shakily and his eyes slipped shut.

“N-no,” Tony whispered. “No. No, no no no, no! Peter! Peter, wake up! Peter! Wake up right now!”

Tony sobbed and dropped his forehead against Peter’s rocking him back and forth gently. “No, no no no, please, please no,” he moaned.

Tony ran shaking fingers across Peter’s clammy brow, then kissed his forehead firmly. “Goddammit, Petey, hold on.” Tears trickled down his cheeks.

He lay Peter on the ground, heart aching every second he wasn’t holding his child, and let the suit form around him, then scooped up his kid, adjusting him gently in his arms, and shot into the sky, thrusters at full speed.

Peter’s vitals appeared on the screen in front of him. Tony’s eyes flitted from Peter’s baby face to his steadily weakening pulse on the screen.

Oh god, stay with me sweetheart

His heart beat so fast he doubted it could be detected. He urged the suit to go faster, faster, speeding to the tower medbay.

“FRI-” he began shakily.

“I’ve contacted Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner, boss,” the AI assured. “They’ve prepared the medbay and are ready to help Peter.”

“Okay. Okay. Good.”

Peter would be okay

He had to

Tony needed him

Tony mumbled to himself, hysteria setting in as he sped to the tower. The time passed in a blur of fear and worry, and Tony just wanted to hold Peter in his arms, safe and warm and alive.

Please!

Just let him be okay.

Suddenly Tony was thudding against the landing pad and was met with the med team. They were prepared with a cot and various medical equipment that Tony couldn’t bother to name.

“Tony!” Helen Cho rushed towards him.

“H-Helen, help him,” he begged. “Help him!”

“I will, Tony, breathe. You need to give Peter to us.” She reached out to take the boy from Iron Man’s arms. Tony pulled away protectively, shielding Peter, before the rational part of his mind realized to help Peter he would need to let go.

He could only watch in terror as the med team swarmed over the boy, wires and tubes and monitors slapped to his chest and face. Peter was rolled away on the cot, before something in his brain snapped into place.

God, he had to protect Peter, he had to be with his baby he had to protect him, he couldn’t let Peter go he couldn’t let go-

Tony sprinted after his kid. “Peter!”

~~~~~

May, Rhodey, and Natasha rushed into the medbay at the same time, Rhodey’s braces echoing in the bare hallways.

There they found Tony, sitting against the wall of Peter’s surgery room, wringing his hands and staring off into space. His eyes were red and silvery tear tracks stained his face.

“Tony! What happened? Is Peter okay?! Where is he?” May yelled. Tony flinched in surprise.

“May,” he said, his voice gravelly. “May, I-I…” Tony massaged his face. The three knelt next to him, Rhodey’s arm around his back, May’s hand on his shoulder, and Nat’s hand on his foot.

“What happened, Tony?” Rhodey said softly, obviously worried for his (kind of) nephew. And his best friend, who was clearly devastated.

Tony sniffed. “H-he was shot. Three times, I think. I-I…” He held up his shaking hands, which were covered in blood. Peter’s blood.

May gasped. Nat’s composure slipped for just a second. Rhodey squeezed his eyes shut, then stood up and came back carrying a warm, wet cloth.

Gently he took Tony’s hand and began to work the blood off them. Tony normally would have teared up at his best friend’s kind gesture, but he could only think of his beloved kid, in the room right next to him, having strangers poke and prod and cut him. His kid, who was alone and bleeding and hurt-

Oh god. His baby.

Rhodey caught Tony in his arms as he began to sob.

He just wanted to hold his kid. Make sure he’s safe. Protect him so he is safe. Please.

May patted Tony’s back, lost in her own thoughts. Nat stood up and paced the length of the hallway and back again, her black boots clicking against the tiles.

Peter’s surgery lasted three more hours, full of anguish and crying, with Natasha and Rhodey trying to comfort the frantic parents (and themselves).

Tony remembered how close his kid had been to fading away, to never wake up again.

(If Peter died, he would too. He knew it deep down. He couldn’t live without his kid.)

He sniffed, and nearly missed the sound of the surgery door swinging open.

Helen walked out, sighing wearily. “Gang’s all here?” she joked.

Tony bolted to his feet, the rest following.

“Peter?!” he gasped.

She nodded. “He’s okay, Tony. We’ll be moving him to his normal room in about ten minutes, and you can see him after that.”

Tony’s legs felt weak as a rush of relief nearly caused him to pass out. He crumpled into Rhodey’s chest, bursting into tears once again. May hugged Natasha, who looked a bit surprised but smiled and wrapped her arms around the other woman.

The ten minutes passed achingly slow. They hovered around Peter’s room in a swarm of worry. And when the door opened, Tony was the first to run in.

Peter was pale and limp under the layers of blankets, numerous wires attached to his skin under his hospital gown. The room was dark, with only only one lamp casting golden light on Peter’s face, with the shades to the window closed.

Tony rushed to his kid, bending over his still body and cupping his face, pressing his forehead to Peter’s. Tears trickled down his cheeks and landed on the boy’s face. He sobbed and pressed kiss after kiss to his forehead and ran his fingers through his delicate curls.

May appeared on Peter’s other side, clutching one of his small hands. She took a damp, warm rag and, not unlike Rhodey had done for Tony, began tenderly wiping at the cuts that he must have earned when he collapsed to the alley floor. She paused for a moment and kissed his cheek, gazing at him as if taking in every detail of his face.

Tony reached out to take the cloth from her and dabbed at his baby’s face gently, eager to do anything that would help his kid, no matter how small. Natasha appeared behind them and held out a box of Spider-Man bandaids, smiling.

“For моего ребенка паука,” she said, then retreated to the corner of the room where she hovered silently, watching Tony and May coo and fuss over their kid.

Tony took the bandaids and gently stuck them on Peter’s minor wounds. May chuckled quietly and plastered a bandaid to Peter’s chin.

Tony carefully sat on the side of the hospital bed, playing with the boy’s soft curls. May pulled up her usual plaid armchair and continued to hold his hand tightly. The inventor murmured a few words in Italian to the boy, quiet enough so that if Peter was awake he would be the only one who could hear.

And then they both flinched violently, Tony leaping up to stand in front of Peter, when the door slammed open with such force it made a small dent in the wall.

Tony cursed angrily, glancing down to his kid to see if he had woken up prematurely. Peter’s face stayed lax.

He sat back down and took Peter’s small hand. “Harley, what are you doing here?”

“What happened to him?” Harley asked, ignoring the other man. “Like what, he’s dying now?”

Tony’s face went pale, his eyes wide. He swayed where he sat, and May darted forward to support him. “It’s okay, Tony. It’s okay. He’s okay,” she comforted.

Natasha stepped from the shadows and put her hand on Harley’s shoulder, forcefully leading him out of the room. They could hear the young man protesting as they walked down the hallway.

“Tony?” May asked. “Are you okay?”

Tony took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. “No.” He forced a laugh.

“He’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he muttered. “I-I just hate it. I hate seeing him so-so hurt and scared and I’m scared, then he tries to reassure me when I should be doing that for him- God.” He had his hand in his hair and looked seconds away from pulling it out. “I just wish I could keep him safe,” he whispered, tears prickling in his eyes.

“I know,” said May. “Believe me, I know.”

~~~~~

“Rhodey,” May laughed. “Guys, this is too much.” She looked at the basket of round, oreo shaped Spider-Man pillows, to the four flower vases on the table, to the clusters of balloons tied to the end of the bed, to the various collections of cards by the flowers.

Steve sighed. “Yeah, we know. We’ll give some to Clint’s kids.”

“No, you won’t,” Clint retorted. “I’ve tripped on three skateboards today! Three different skateboards!”

“You can’t trip on a plushie,” Sam muttered.

“Try me! I’m the master of breaking my back!”

Bucky handed a packet of Spider-Man stickers to May. “He loves to stick these on my arm. Thought he might like these.” He leaned back into Steve’s chest and gazed up. The other man squeezed his shoulder and kissed his lips as if in some strange limbo/ twister game.

Rhodey shrugged. “Least we can do is take care of this human disaster.” He poked Tony’s forehead and observed his disheveled appearance. Tony blinked and rubbed at his tired eyes. “Tony, you have to take care of yourself.”

“I appreciate it, everyone, thank you,” May assured. “I know Peter will love these.”

Tony picked up one of the Spider-Man plushies and tucked it under Peter’s blankets. He was squeezed next to the boy on the hospital bed, leaning against a pillow which must have been decimating his back. “There you go, bud. It’s a mini-you.” He smiled and gently ruffled his curls.

The room went quiet when the Avengers reluctantly left, forced out by Dr. Cho, who had come to refill Peter’s IV bag. Tony kissed Peter’s forehead and gently moved his head to the side when she drew out a needle, knowing that even though he was asleep, his kid hated needles.

They sat in silence once the doctor left, silently wishing for their kid to wake up.

“Pete,” he choked out suddenly. “Come on, baby, you’ve had enough time to sleep. Wake up for us, buddy, please.”

He hadn’t expected his kid to wake up, but maybe his hope was enough, because Peter’s eyelids fluttered. The two parents gasped.

Tony leaned forward, rubbing Peter’s cheekbone with his thumb and trying to coax him awake. “Come on baby, you can do it. You can do it, wake up, Petey. Wake up, there you go, that’s it.”

Peter’s eyes opened slowly. He moaned and blinked, then managed to get his eyes halfway open.

“There he is!” the man exclaimed. “Oh baby.”

May waved from his other side. “Hi, sweetie.”

“D-d… Dad? Aun’ May?”

“Right here, honey,” Tony cooed, his heart exploding with love. Dad. Peter had called him Dad! His voice was lost in emotion for a second.

“Hi,” the boy mumbled, grinning lazily.

“Hi there, Spider-Baby.” He bent to kiss his forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmmmm… feel good. Like ‘m floatin’.” He turned his head. “Hi Aun’ May.”

“Hey, sweetie,” she murmured.

“Wassup, bros?” he slurred loopily. They both laughed.

“Not much, bud. You slept through the night, the team came over, and… oh, I’m missing something, let me see… oh, right you got shot.” He raised one eyebrow which made Peter laugh.

“‘M s’rry. Got distracted.”

“It’s okay, buddy. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Tony desperately wanted to let his kid know that he didn’t have to apologize every time he almost died.

Peter hummed and squeezed Tony’s hand weakly, who squeezed back with considerably more gentle force. “Can I ask you something, kiddo?”

“Sure.”

Tony smiled. “Buddy, a few nights ago, you asked me if I loved you. Remember that?” He continued when the boy nodded in confirmation. “What did you mean? I love you so much, Petey. Did I do something wrong? Did I… did I say something bad?”

He held his breath. Had he accidentally hurt his kid? What had happened to make Peter doubt his love?

“N-no, no! I said that because… because I-I…” he took a deep breath. “Few days ago I was talkin’ t’ Harley… an’ he said you didn’ love me an’ that I was jus’ for main’ you look good. But I knew that wasn’ true.” He smiled. “Knew it.”

The ice cold shock that had hit Tony soon dissolved from anger to pure, unbridled fury.

“Harley,” he repeated, almost snarling. “Harley told you that?”

“Mm-hmm.” Peter was oblivious to Tony’s anger. “Knew he was wrong.”

“Petey- yes, he’s wrong, he’s so so wrong, baby. You know that right? You know I love you so much, so damn much?”

“I-I know, Dad. I love you too. More than… than… all the letters i-in the universe! P-plus all the stars, an’ the bugs, an’ all the little pieces of yarn in the c-carpet!”

Tony grinned fondly, kissing the boy’s forehead. God, he loved this sweet kid. “I bet I love you even more than that, buddy.”

He pushed his anger down, down, until all that was left was his never-ending love for his kid.

“Even more?” Peter gasped, eyes sparkling. “No way!”

“Yeah way,” he teased, running his fingers through his hair. Ma smothered her laughter with a hand.

“W-well, then I love you more than a-all the pixels on my computer. On all of the computers!”

“Wow, bud, that’s a lot, huh?”

Peter smiled proudly and nodded. He turned his head to his aunt. “Love you t-too May.”

“I love you too, sweetie.” She smiled and adjusted one of the little Spider-Man plushies by his side, letting him grab onto it.

“G’night,” he said, eyes drooping.

“Goodnight, baby,” Tony whispered, pressing a long kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”

“Nap time already?” asked May gently, smiling. “Goodnight, Pete. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Peter’s eyes closed and his breathing slowed. His hand went limp in Tony’s, who gave it a tight squeeze.

When they knew he was deeply asleep, the pair shared a glance.

“Who,” May asked, “is Harley?”

~~~~~

Tony strolled down the hallway casually, composure cool and collected.

On the outside.

On the inside he was a turmoil of rage and anguish and a familiar aching to get back to his kid.

But first he had to find another kid. A certain young adult.

That kid.

The kid who had fed lies and seeds of doubt into his own kid’s mind. Doubts about a father’s love. Saying the unspeakable.

Who caused his kid to get shot. Three fucking times.

Harley.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted calmly, sauntering into the living room where Harley lounged on the couch, swiping away on his phone.

“Hey, Tony. Geez, what happened to that kid? He get shot or somethin’?” Harley barely glanced up, not concerned it slightest.

In fact, he looked satisfied.

Stay calm, Tones. Stay calm.

“As a matter of fact, he did.”

“Fuck, man. That sucks.”

Yeah, it sure fucking does. My kid, my baby almost fucking died and it was your fault, and all you say is “that sucks?”

“Sure does. He’s doing better, though,” Tony continued. “What I wanna know is, why was he out there? Any ideas?”

Harley shrugged, not willing to share much more. “Maybe he likes the rain?”

“Maybe that’s it,” Tony considered. The icy anger flooded through him again. “Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because you told him I didn’t fucking love him. Think that’s it?”

Harley glared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? ‘Cause I saw the footage, Harley. ‘It must be a charity event, right?’ ‘He doesn’t care?’” Tony’s eyes must have been red, he was so angry. “Kid, I really don’t think you know me as much as you think you do. You don’t know me at all.”

“Save it,” he snapped when the other man tried to protest. “He almost fucking died because of you. He could have been killed. You could have killed my kid.”

“He- I-I-”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I want you to get out.”

“W-what? What do you mean?” Harley blinked up at him, his sneakers still getting dirt on the couch.

Tony’s face grew deadly serious. He physically had to grab his hand to restrain from calling the suit. “He. Almost. Died. You need to get out of my house and away from my kid.”

“I-I didn’t-” he began to protest.

“Out, or I’ll call security. You need to leave,” Tony snarled.

Harley blinked, then jumped up and ran, tripping over his shoelaces as he rushed to the elevator. Tony watched, glaring, as the door closed.

A few minutes later, FRIDAY announced, “Harley has left the building, boss.”

“Good.”

He would have loved to talk to that kid for hours, about how much he hurt his precious kid, how much he hurt him.

But he had a kid to get to.

Tony hurried back to the medbay, not bothering to knock on the wooden door and making May jump.

“Is he gone?” she asked.

“Yeah. I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of him again.” He grinned.

May nodded. “Good.” She smiled to herself, patting Peter’s foot.

(It was obvious she had a strong hatred for the man who had almost killed her nephew.)

Tony sat on the bed, making sure not to disturb the child with his sudden weight, and kissed Peter’s temple tenderly, his gaze filled with love as he memorized every detail of his kid’s face, then smoothed his hand over his curls. “Don’t worry, buddy. He won’t be bothering you ever again.”

~~~~~~

/ST*RKER DNI/

~~~~~~

Taglist: @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @honeythepooh @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @bringitonvoldie @queen-of-sarcasm-25 @roxy3457 @memilon @iron-loyalty @gralaca @bitchingpretty @pillowspace @thatminecraftgal @clockworkteacup @hatakehikari @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

If you want to be added/ removed let me know!

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starryknight09 · 3 years

Text

Hidden hurts

Febuwhump Day 13: hidden injury

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“We got it!” Sam announced over the comms.

“Great. Now let’s get out of here.” Clint chimed in.

“You heard the man. Everyone back to the Quinjet. We got what we came for.” Steve said.

“Yes!” Peter celebrated, not over the comms, but to Mr. Stark, as he pumped his fist in the air.

“Come on kid, let’s skedaddle.” Mr. Stark said, and even though Peter couldn’t see his expression behind the Ironman mask, he could tell the man was amused by his antics. There was an odd tension in his voice as well, but Peter ignored it. He figured his mentor was just stressed.

“Aye aye.” He mocked saluted and turned around so they could start making their way back to the Quinjet and out of the weird ice fortress. They hadn’t encountered any bad guys in the last ten minutes, so he was hoping they’d be able to slip back out the way they came without any resistance. He was a little disappointed they hadn’t been the ones to find the stolen alien tech, but it was still cool to be on an Avengers mission. His first official one. If he wasn’t counting the whole Thanos thing when he followed Mr. Stark to Titan and then came back to fight the purple guy again, until Captain Marvel came from the sky and took the glove from Peter, snapped it, and ended everything once and for all.

“That was fast.” Peter said, trying to fill the silence. “Don’t you think that was fast? I mean, are missions always over this fast? I thought we’d be here a lot longer.”

Mr. Stark hummed instead of answering. Peter glanced over his shoulder to see that he’d fallen behind. He stopped and waited.

“Am I going too fast for you?” He joked, but as he studied Mr. Stark he felt a twinge of worry. Usually Ironman didn’t move so slow, and it almost looked like he was trying to mask a limp.

“Are you ok Mr. Stark?” He asked.

“Tony.” The man reminded him. Right. Ever since Peter had returned from the snap, Tony had insisted Peter call him by his first name instead of Mr. Stark.

“Are you ok Tony?” He asked again.

“I’m fine kid.” Tony answered, but the tension that’d been there throughout the mission remained, and now Peter was starting to see it in a different light. Instead of being tense because Peter was there, maybe it was something else. Peter looked the armor up and down and didn’t see any marks or damage over it, but it was nanotech, so even if something had happened, it would’ve fixed itself instantly.

“Ok.” He said but let his skepticism shine through. When he went back to walking, he slowed his pace slightly, and when Tony didn’t call him out on it, his concern increased.

They continued through the ice tunnel in silence. Peter could almost imagine they were in some kind of fancy glacial themed hotel instead of a Hydra subset hold out in except for all the fighting they’d had to do to get in here and all the unconscious or dead Hydra soldiers scattered about.

“Hold up kid.” Tony said and Peter paused, watching as Ironman got down on one knee to pick up a blue glowy knife thing next to one of the fallen soldiers. Peter had seen some of them carrying similar weapons but he hadn’t thought much of it.

“Collecting souvenirs?” He asked.

Tony grunted as he straightened and simply said, “Research.”

Peter didn’t ask any further because he got the sense that Tony didn’t want to elaborate on it at the moment. The man had been oddly quiet, not that he was ever a motor mouth like Peter, but usually he talked more than this near silence. It was odd because he’d been talkative enough on the Quinjet ride here, but at some point since they’d stormed the ice castle, he’d grown quiet.

“Lead the way Pete.” Tony prompted and Peter realized he’d been staring at him.

“Right.” Peter gave him a nod and continued on. Tony was allowed to have an off day. Peter didn't need to overanalyze it like he always did with everything.

When they finally made it up the ramp and into the Quinjet, Peter noticed they were the last group to arrive. All the other Avengers sat scattered around, besides Clint, who was in the pilot’s seat up front, ready to take off now that they were all accounted for.

“Hey guys.” Peter greeted them, pulling off his mask.

“Hey pipsqueak.” Sam said with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes at the teasing, but when he noticed Steve frowning at him, he frowned back, wondering what he’d done to put that look on Captain America’s face. As uptight as Tony joked about Steve being, Peter didn’t think he’d have a problem with a little eye rolling. But then he realized Steve wasn’t looking at him, but past him, to where Tony stood.

“Tony.” Steve said and Peter turned around, his own eyes widening at the sight. Tony had retracted the nanotech of the helmet, so Peter saw his face for the first time since they’d started the mission, and he looked terrible. He was white as a ghost and his hair stuck to his forehead with beads of sweat.

“Are you all right?” Steve asked, quickly crossing the distance between them so he was beside Tony in a few steps.

Rhodey perked up at that, turning from where he’d been talking to Scott to take in the scene, brow furrowing. “Tones, you ok man?”

Rhodey started toward them and Tony waved him away, but the next second his knees buckled. Steve grabbed his arms, easing him down to his knees so he didn’t hit the ground too hard.

“Tony?” Steve repeated, concern clear. Rhodey rushed over, kneeling down on Tony’s other side.

“What happened?” Rhodey asked, directing the question toward Peter.

Peter shook his head. “I don’t-I don’t know.” He wished he did, but he had no clue. Besides being slower and quieter than usual, Peter hadn’t noticed anything else different about Tony. Certainly nothing to indicate there was something seriously wrong. He hovered behind them, wanting to help, but not sure what to do or what kind of help was even needed.

“What’s going on back there?” Clint called from the front and Peter vaguely registered the feeling of the Quinjet taking off.

“Not sure yet.” Sam answered since Rhodey and Steve seemed otherwise occupied.

Tony still hadn’t answered any of their questions and now his breaths seemed to be coming in short little gasps.

“Tony, take this off.” Rhodey ordered, tapping at the armor that still covered his body. “Where are you hurt?”

Tony shook his head, not answering, but the nanotech started melting away anyway, revealing the flesh and bone underneath. Nothing became immediately obvious once the suit disappeared, leaving Tony in his regular clothes. Peter let out a silent breath of relief. Whatever it was couldn’t be that bad then.

“Tony,” Steve said in his Captain America voice, “tell us what’s going on.”

Peter watched as Steve put his hand on Tony’s back in a gesture of support only to pull away as if he’d been burned, holding his hand out to stare at it.

Steve’s hand was red. Peter stared at it, seeing but not comprehending.

“Shit.” Rhodey swore the instant he noticed the blood painting Steve’s hand. The two of them shared a look over Tony’s head and in the next second they were both moving quickly, in unison, turning him to examine his back.

And that’s when Peter saw it. The entire left side of Tony’s shirt was soaked in blood. The world around him seemed to tilt and twirl. Nothing made sense and yet it all made an exact scary kind of sense. The reason for why Tony had been acting the way he had been clicking into place. He’d been hurt and hiding it from Peter. But when? And how?

As soon as they saw the blood soaked shirt, Rhodey and Steve pulled it up, revealing a three inch gash over his left lower back. No. Not a gash. A stab wound.

Rhodey swore again and before Peter could even blink, Steve had gathered Tony up in his arms, carrying him toward a bed surrounded by medical equipment in the back.

“Sam.” Steve beckoned the other man over, and they rolled Tony onto his side, Rhodey putting pressure on the wound as Sam and Steve worked to hook him up to machines.

Peter watched, feet frozen to the ground, his entire body numb beside a weird tingling in his fingers.

“It’s ok.” Wanda said, suddenly at his side. He’d been too distracted to even hear her come over. “Let’s go sit down.” She nudged him toward a bench nearby and somehow his feet managed to unstick and make it over there, his eyes locked on Tony the entire time.

“Peter.” Wanda said as she crouched in front of him, breaking his sight line to Tony. She squeezed his tingling hands. “Can you breathe with me?”

It was only then that he noticed he was taking in short harsh staccato breaths like he couldn’t get enough air. He didn’t even have the breath to answer her, so he nodded, trying to gain control. He did his best to mimic her as she mimed breathing in deep, holding it and breathing out slowly. Eventually, he managed to bring his breathing back under control, but he had no clue how long it’d taken.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, feeling embarrassed that he’d lost it so completely in front of an Avenger.

“It’s ok.” She smiled kindly at him. “It’s not a weakness to care.” Her eyes saddened after she said it, but Peter could see she meant it.

He nodded, sneaking a glance past her to Tony. He had an oxygen mask on now and IV lines in place. Peter couldn’t tell if he was conscious or not but at least he was alive. For now. It only brought him a small comfort because Peter knew better than anyone how tenuous a hold life had on a person. A vision of Ben, sprawled out, bleeding on the ground intruded into his thoughts.

Wanda gave his hands a firm squeeze again, and he swung his gaze back toward her, trying to give her a thankful smile but failing.

How had this even happened? And how Peter not noticed? Tony had been in the armor. He hadn’t taken it off. How could he have gotten stabbed?

Research.

The word popped into Peter’s mind along with the image of Tony crouching down to pick up that weird knife. Where had it gone? Peter searched the floor and noticed it over by the wall where Tony had been standing before everything had gone sideways.

The blue glow seemed to taunt him. It all made an awful sort of sense. The blade must’ve pierced the nanotech armor.

But how?

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhump #irondad

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subarubi · 4 years

Text

The List

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Everyone’s got a submission to his list. Watch this. Read that. Go there. But you’ve never given him anything. Not a single idea of what it is you like, what makes you feel at home in this world. Never made an effort to bridge the gap between the 40s and now, and yourself and him. And it oddly bothers him.

Word Count: 3.6 k

A/N: this is my very first reader insert i’ve written and am posting, so i’m excited :) appreciate anyone who takes the time to read!

Everyone’s got a submission to his list.

Watch this. Read that. Eat here. Go there. I Love Lucy. Moon Landing. Berlin Wall. Steve Jobs. Disco. Thai food. Star Wars. Nirvana. Rocky. Troubleman Soundtrack. Things he absolutely must do if he wants to call himself a modern man. Which, he does. But kind of doesn’t? Doesn’t even matter much now anyway.

You don’t.

Have a submission to his list, that is.

You’ve never been talkative anyway, he reasons. You’re quiet, reserved, and a bit of an outsider in this haphazardly thrown together group of extraordinary people.

Not that you’re ordinary, not in the slightest. You’re a comet. Your power, palpable. A volatile missile, ice and dust carving a hole through space. Nucleus, hard body amalgamation of granite muscle and tungsten bones. Tail, a whipping flurry of wild hair, muted decimation in its wake. No, you are far from ordinary.

You just... stick to the walls.

With arms-- arms he’s seen bring men to their knees-- crossed over your chest, face set in marble. Not unfriendly. You’ll talk nice when prompted, smile when appropriate, but you never initiate.

You seem to prefer a distance, a line between work life and personal life. A line that just doesn’t exist with the Avengers. Somehow, though, you manage to maintain the separation. Natasha’s prying questions, Stark’s intentional invasions of your personal space, Sam’s harmless but persistent flirting.

It’s all so easily deflected.

Made even easier now that the family you’d always resisted has been fractured.

You don’t care to foster intimate relationships with any of these people. And you definitely don’t care to put in a submission to Captain America’s To-Do List.

Everyone, everyone has something to add to his list. Even Bucky, Bucky, who has spent the better part of 70 years in and out of cryo, brain pulled apart and replaced with a new, foreign synapse each time, said something about a movie he’d seen somewhere.

It bothers him. It shouldn’t, but it does.

Steve can physically feel it-- that’s how much it bothers him. A now permanent path of his eyes to your form in a room. An itch in his fingers for a pen and paper anytime you say anything. A burn on the tops of his ears, hot and red, if you smile softly at some reference he doesn’t understand. Is that a signal? Would that be a suggestion if you actually talked to him?

Regardless, he trusts you. A boundless amount. Unexplainable given just how little the two of you have actually spoken.

You don’t make suggestions for the list, and it only really bothers him because he does trust you. He wants to know what you have to say, what you think is important for him to experience. What you like. If, perhaps, what makes you feel at home in this world could help him too.

It’s a Thursday and he’s thumbing the pages of his notebook when Natasha gets the idea.

The quinjet cabin is filled with a heavy, pregnant silence that no one can bear to cut through. Full-term. Unbearable pressure on the sciatic nerve-type silence. 9 months discomfort and anxiety, stifling their words.

A mission gone right, but leaving a bad taste in their mouths.

Bucky sits near the front, aimlessly bouncing a tennis ball against the starboard wall. Sam is in the co-pilot seat, trying to read a book with a red cover and yellow spine. Nat’s knuckles turn white on the yoke, keeping the quinjet on track even though it could pretty much fly on its own.

You like music, Steve thinks. You there now in the back corner-- fingers drumming to the private beat on your thigh, eyes closed and head tipped back, white of earbuds in stark contrast with your dark combat suit-- is a frequent sight. He imagines your recommendation might be an album for him to listen to.

Steve’s fingers ghost over the familiar scrawl of his list; some crossed out, some recently added.

He decides it could use more music.

You should just ask her, Natasha smirks, jutting her chin your direction. When she moved to sit next to him, Steve didn’t know. But, she is, after all, the spy. He’d been otherwise occupied anyway. He lifts his bowed head up to fix her with a puzzled look. Nat gives him that smirk and Steve has to fight back a groan. Knocking her knee against his, she teases, you know, she can probably feel you staring.

His eyes shoot over in your direction, sighing a little in relief when you seem to still be lost in the music pumping in your ears. Steve realizes Natasha isn’t talking about the list. Years now, and she still hasn’t given up on playing his personal matchmaker. It’s slowed, surely, due to circumstance, but she’s never satisfied. A date. He should ask you on a date, is what she means. He’s suddenly as red in the face as the tips of his ears and Natasha’s hair.

Steve’s not blind.

You’re attractive.

Soft and hard in so many ways. Lips, pink and pillowy and parted ever so slightly. Sharp line of your jaw clenched, brows furrowed. The gentle curve of your neck, warm skin disappearing beneath a dirt stained, hole ridden suit that hasn’t seen mending hands in months. Not since you followed him in his free fall from grace.

You’d followed. Wordlessly. Burned out, abandoned by coworkers and the public, you resigned yourself to this life of Motel hopping and operating outside of the realm of what’s legal. Though not outside of what’s right.

Pondering what any of that could mean feels forbidden to Steve.

The hard shell of a man, not any less great, but perhaps less sure.

He looks back at Natasha with a low shake of his head, abruptly shutting his notebook. She sighs, but takes the hint. Enough. Not now.

Almost a year later, he does ‘just ask’.

It’s kind of like a date, in barely-there ways. You’re left alone, facing each other in a booth, knees brushing. You go to the bathroom, Steve orders for the both of you. Kind of like a date.

Stuffed in the sticky booth of some diner in Middle America, alone together. Natasha gone off on her own again. Bucky recovering in Wakanda. Sam out like a light on a creaking Motel 6 mattress-- hard, just like he likes it. Your muscles like jelly, stomachs rumbling with the dull ache of hunger, soaked head to toe from the torrential downpour outside. No idle chit chat for you two. Steve stares out the window, impossible blue eyes following the path of a raindrop. You ring the bottom of your shirt out onto the small bit of floor between two pairs of feet. It splatters on the ground loudly.

Not a date.

You risk a glance at him over the piping hot brim of your coffee mug. Silently marvel at just how much he’s changed through thin white wisps of steam. More than longer hair, more than a handsome and disguising beard, more than the ripped out star of his suit sitting in a heap on the motel room floor. You can’t say how, it’s more a feeling.

He’s a lot quieter now. Like you.

Steve’s always been stoic. Passionate when needs be, but not exactly loose with his emotions; never as restrained now. His voice was always strong and sure, but never quite so gruff from frequent disuse as in this past year. You suppose it’s partially your fault. With Natasha gone much more now and Sam talking enough to carry a conversation himself, you’re not exactly great company. You might be one of the reasons he speaks less and less.

A pretty waitress is smiling wide at him, a signal that she knows. A beard and hat pulled down as far as possible would never be enough to hide those golden boy blue eyes.

Those eyes millions of women would gladly melt into a puddle of rainwater on the dirty floor of some diner in Midwest America for. You’d have to ask for a mop later to clean up the mess. Yours and the one spilling from ‘Molly’s lips.

I heard you have a list, she smiles coy. You tuck in to the plate of chocolate chip pancakes doused in maple syrup as she bats her eyelashes down at him.

Steve shifts, glancing over at you seemingly uninterested in the conversation. He’d given up on you having anything to do with the list weeks ago. He may be a fugitive-- may no longer be an Avenger, Captain America-- but he’s still a nice guy.

Yes, he laughs kindly, hands clasped together on the table top.

You sniff and his eyes snap to yours again, tense. You’ll have to leave soon. Now that ‘Molly’ from the midnight shift at Red’s diner has seen Steve Rogers and his pretty blue eyes, you’ll have to wake Sam from his long overdue sleep and be gone before dawn. You wish he could’ve been left longer. It’s just how things work these days. A long shot from living plush, courtesy of Tony Stark. But you can wait long enough to finish coffee and breakfast.

Can I make a suggestion? she leans down and speaks in soft tones, a wicked grin hidden beneath those sweet, innocent looking red lips.

You raise a brow when Steve politely nods, pulling out his trusty notebook from his back pocket. Steve asks to borrow a pen which she hastily holds out to him, purposely having their fingers brush in the exchange. Surely he knows she’s flirting, he’s not that naive. There’s no way. He’s a nice guy, maybe too nice.

She’s young. You imagine she has spent more than a few nights looking up at a poster of his face, clean shaven and perfect, playing this exact conversation in her head. That she has carefully thought over what her input would be.

You should definitely watch ‘Friends’ when you have the time.

You snort. Loudly.

Molly instantly shrinks in on herself, deflated. Steve gives you an odd look, which you brush off and promptly resume shoveling the sweet breakfast food into your mouth.

He’s so kind, it’s downright disgusting.

Steve makes a point of writing it down underneath ‘Stevie Wonder’, smiling, Thank you. And for good measure, when he returns the pen, Captain America runs his ring finger across her knuckle. Oh, he knew. So considerate, you almost want to smirk when you catch it.

She’s gone now to wait on the other late night stragglers, blushing and gently ghosting her fingers over the spot he’d touched. Your hurtful mocking isn’t enough to dampen the feel of being caught in Steve Rogers’ warm glow.

His knee presses along the inside of yours again when he shifts to shove the small book back into his pants. You take a measured sip of coffee.

Steve raises a brow in your direction, Did you have a better suggestion?

There. He’s asked.

Maybe he could finally breathe in your presence now.

No luck considering you simply shrug and break from his gaze. So unreadable. It’s frustrating. He has half a mind to write ‘shrug’ underneath ‘Friends’. Are you? Friends, he means. You’ve known each other what feels like a lifetime now. At whatever this is for a year and a half. He can count on one hand the amount of conversations not involving a mission you’ve shared.

He trusts you with his life, which, after everything that’s happened, is a rare commodity. He’s sure you feel the same.

You’d say that no, you’re not friends. You probably wouldn’t deny the unfathomable trust in each other, though. That’s comforting at least. You sleep a bed away every night after all.

Steve doesn’t really sleep.

He doesn’t know you know that; you don’t sleep either.

He’s staring, maybe he doesn’t realize it.

You’ve abandoned your fork, suddenly feeling sick with it. That fucking blue. It split you like butter and might’ve knocked you over had you not been tightly gripping your knee under the table.

So handsome it hurts.

How could anyone be that pretty? Heartbreaking. Even before the serum-- you’ve seen the pictures. Breathtaking. The beard. The beard is really something. So so pretty. Adonis and Aphrodite. Michelangelo’s David. Torturous.

It’s been almost a full minute now. Of him, just staring.

You clear your throat in hopes it might pull him out of whatever it is that has claimed him. It doesn’t work. You talk just to end it. You know for certain that will surprise him.

Why do you even keep up with it? The list. That stupid goddamned list.

You can see the flush on Steve’s neck when he does realize that he’d stared at you, through you, in you, for the longest two minutes in history. He coughs into his fist.

What do you mean? his brow furrows, and you almost want to touch the crease between them to make it go away. It’s a ridiculous thought. One you shake away with another measured sip of coffee.

Doesn’t it seem... you shrug, and there’s an urge in him to grab you by the shoulders and beg you to stop fucking shrugging so goddamned much. Steve thinks he might go insane if he sees those shoulders twitch up again. I dunno, kind of pointless now?

In a way, yes, it is.

Steve can’t exactly pop in a film or binge watch a tv show like this. And sitting down to listen to read a book doesn’t really seem right.

He doesn’t answer. You watch him finally pick up his own fork, cutting into an omelette more cheese and meat than egg.

It still rains down hard.

Steve pays the bill, smiling tightly at Molly when she lays her hand on his bicep. He tips her well, she was sweet and young and still half terrified from just you snorting.

You follow a few paces behind him out of the diner, mindful of maintaining that distance.

Neither of you bother to fight against getting soaked.

You’re both immediately set on edge when three cars pull into the parking lot, tightly together. It’s the kind of thing you’d been trained to be suspicious of. The kind of thing that never means anything good when around people like you. It means they have come for you both. It means you'll probably have to fight.

He pauses underneath the buzzing neon sign. His back is to you, the tense expanse of muscles outlined by the wet shirt clinging to his skin. A breath. Another.

Giggling.

You hear giggling of all things, bubbling through the parking lot. Girls, a whole crowd of them, spilling out of the cars, hushing each other. His name is on their cherry chapstick lips. Not his name, his title: Captain America. Molly had texted them, that’s clear now.

It’s better, at least, than your previous estimation. But it’s trouble nevertheless.

Steve turns to face you and somehow, the soft glow of red on his face only makes his eyes bluer. He takes a step forward. You understand. You always understand in the absence of words. There’s a link between the two of you when you’re in that working mode. That trust, tangible in how you too, step forward.

It’s procedural. You fall into it so easily.

His head ducks, yours raises. Eyes locked in one another, but ears elsewhere, listening. Not touching, but near to it. A breath away. Swaying in the rain. You feel it sizzle on your skin, see it coming off him in steam.

No one bothers the two lovers, obviously too occupied with each other to be superheroes. Natasha had taught you both that.

It pours harder yet.

The giggles fade into nothing, drowned in the monsoon-- no space between the fat drops pelting the earth. They couldn’t see the two of you now even if they tried.

Why did you come? You never really said, he has to shout, the rain is so loud.

You’ve left a lot unsaid. Some things are better that way.

Steve’s hands, large and powerful, stop your shoulders mid shrug. Don’t, he squeezes his eyes shut, drops of rain trickling down the slopes of his nose, For the love of God, don’t fucking shrug.

Everything is heavy: your drenched clothes, his hands still gripping your shoulders, the crushing weight in your chest-- the rock lodged in your throat with all the things you’ve never said for the sake of some stupid credo about not letting things get personal. You’ve let the words die on your lips and for what?

It did nothing. The lines blurred anyway, out of your control.

The truth: there hasn’t been a distance greater than the width of his notebook between the two of you for a long time now.

You pretend.

You both pretend that absence of any extended conversation means you haven’t already learned everything about each other just by watching. Stealing glances when the other is turned away.

Steve pretends that the reason your input in the list matters so much to him is because he wants to know the people he’s trusting with his life.

He already knows you. Not your favorite color or band, but you. Your outline in the darkness of a thousand motels. The smell of you under layers of grime and sweat and blood-- you’re scrubbed clean with the same soap he uses. Your breathing patterns: one when you’re resting with your earbuds in, head bopping to songs he’s not been privy to; another when you’re side by side in combat, moving together like one; the most prominent, when you’re both laying in bed staring at the ceiling, too lost in thought to even care about sleep.

You know him too.

His question. How do you answer? You followed. Wasn’t that answer enough?

Where’s your notebook? You ask instead, though it’s more of a call in this downpour.

Steve’s brow furrows again, left hand flying back to pat the small book in his pocket. This time, you do reach out, though you don’t have to go very far. His breath quickens when the pad of your thumb brushes against the wet crease of skin pulled together in uncertainty. He swallows hard, rifling through the pages a little messy because he can’t stop looking at you. Your hand stays there until the pressure releases. For a good second after, too.

When he finally opens it up to the two pages worth of ‘to-do’, the ink is running. Black to blue. A melted mess of jumbled letters on delicate paper one wrong twitch away from ripping.

You take it from his hands, gentle, because you’re pretty sure this notebook has been a lifeline for him. Grounding. There’s sketches in there that you’ve only caught glimpses of.

You lament now that it has been ruined by the rain.

I don’t have a pen, he says softly. Softly, because he’s closer now than you’ve ever been. You’ve never heard him so soft. So cautious that his voice might scare you away.

You spare a languid glance up to see just how close he is. It must be only inches because you can hear him through the rain. You tilt your chin to the sky, heavy lids widening slightly.

He’s closer than even that. Not inches, centimeters. If you hadn’t been swaying in synchronization and instead leaned forward at the same time...

You don’t even know what you’re doing. For the first time in a while, you’re scared.

The book is closed between your palms, the list shut. You’ll deal with it another day. You’ll help him remember everything that was on there so he can rewrite it.

Steve leans in more. Not enough.

I’ll just tell you then, you nod. Steve’s chest brushes against yours as you both suck in heavy breaths. You press the notebook there, against the hard swells of his front, closer to his heart.

Which question are you answering? Why did you come? Or did you have a better suggestion?

Bob Dylan.

What?

Bob Dylan. Bringing It All Back Home. 1965.

Oh.

The stupid list. For years now, that’s all he’s wanted to hear. But there, under the neon sign, in the parking lot of Red’s diner, drenched in the deluge of rain, it’s not enough.

We’ll listen to it together, you smile and he’s never seen it quite so big or bright.

Together. It is enough.

Your lips taste of rain and maple syrup. He’ll remember it for a while. Forever, maybe. And him, you don’t recall something ever being so rich in your life. Steve’s mouth, so decadent you could die with a sated smile still. It’s all the sweeter, the press of your lips together; in it all those words left unsaid. You breathe them into his mouth, warm and red and waiting, and he sears them back into yours with the delicate slide of his tongue. Mouths together form lost sentences and sing. A crescendoing flurry of soundless vowels and consonants that only the two of you will ever hear.

Steve faintly hears the notebook fall in a splash at your feet and you can feel the grin in his lips by the scratch of his beard against your chin. You’ll feel guilty for dropping it later, but your hand had been hellbent on curling itself under his arms and around his shoulder. His own hands cradle your neck and face, slipping across the rain wet planes of your face. And those forearms, like hams, rest heavily on your shoulders-- so that you can never shrug again. If you can’t find the words, Steve’s content to have you speak them on his lips.

Everyone’s got a submission to his list.

But yours come with a kiss.

Yours is the only one that he’s ever really cared about.

Sam complains weeks later that he’s sick of hearing Bob Dylan.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #fanfiction #self insert #marvel #one shot #captain america x reader

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centuryofdean · 4 years

Text

Of Food and Comfort - Part 10

Author Note:: SMUT Alert. Like... I got carried away.. again. Now that I am rereading it before posting, like damn. I’m wondering what the hell got into me and what I can do to write something like this better next time. Criticism is always welcome! *As long as it isn’t left in a degrading / hurtful way.*

Author Disclaimer:: Marvel and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. Instead I claim the maybe not so great plot, writing and characteristics of the reader insert character. I am not a die hard Marvel fan, I haven’t read all the comics, but have watched the movies. I may get some things wrong, so please don’t hate me. I also have been incorporating Old Norse as terms of endearment.

Summary:: You worked for Tony Stark as a…mechanic of sorts. Anything around the Avengers compound that needed a technicians touch, you handled. With working and living there, you had grown to be friendly with the super heroes. Of course you had grown to have feelings for one of them. The muscled Thunder God to be exact.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. Smut. NSFW

Pairing:: Thor x Reader

Before you knew it, January and February came and left. It was a little saddening that time seemed to be flying, but every day was just as beautiful and magical as Christmas.

The Avengers weren’t called away on any missions, and Thor hadn’t been called back to Asgard. This left you with a month of bliss with him. Just like before, Thor followed you around the base as you worked, he helped while you cooked dinners. Only now there was kisses.

A lot of kisses.

A while ago when you were making dinner, Thor entered the kitchen and zeroed in on you. Before you could even utter a ‘hello’ he had grasped you by the hips and lifted you up and onto the counter top of the island. Thankfully there wasn’t anything on the island, because surely it would have been pushed to the floor with the force of his actions. In seconds he descended on your lips.

Every kiss you both shared was enough to make you lift off the ground with the amount of butterflies in your stomach. This one on the other hand was—it was hot. He wasn’t frantic, but each movement of his lips and tongue was precise. Warm hands worked up under your shirt to trace the skin of your sides, ghosting over your bra cups slightly before dipping back down.

Unconsciously you worked your legs open and had the heels of your feet digging into Thor’s thighs while you tried to pull him closer. A fire ignited in your core, and the friction only made it burn hotter and warm you from the inside out.

“What has gotten into you,” you gasped for breath while he kissed your neck and rutted into your center. Each movement worked you up more and more.

He didn’t respond at first, just nibble at your collar bone and pulling your body tightly into his grasp.

“I was blessed with a very nice dream,” he murmured.

Your hand reached down towards the button of his jeans, fiddling with the button for a second before popping it open.

“Come on guys!”

Thor immediately pulled away, facing away from you and the entrance of the kitchen. Clint was standing there with one hand plastered across his eyes and the other on his hips, foot tapping fast in frustration. “Could you at least do this kind of thing somewhere like in your rooms, or in the movie room or something? Somewhere that no one will be likely to interrupt, like me,” he muttered.

When Valentine’s Day rolled around, you made a little dinner for the both of you and ate it in his rooms. There wasn’t a lot romantic about it, you had a feeling Thor wasn’t aware of the holiday for couples and that was fine by you. It truly felt like a made up holiday just for cards and candy sales. Romantic gestures should be made year round, not just on one day.

Instead the both of you ate, then cuddled and watched a few movies.

Well, you tried to watch movies, but Thor’s wandering hands kept distracting you with the small images he traced on your stomach and thighs. Eventually you both ended up wrapped in one another, yanking at each other’s clothes between frantic kisses.

Even though you were determined to finally have sex with him that night, Thor pleased you with his mouth and silver tongue instead. When you asked him later why he still hasn’t taken the next step, he simply said it wasn’t the right time.

It was now rounding on the third month of being wrapped up in the life of Thor, when the team finally had a mission to do. Everyone was either running or walking with purpose through the base either collecting their gear or looking for something that was out of place. Thor simply grabbed the hammer and strode towards the doors out to the grounds. The quinjet that was used for missions was kept out on a helipad out behind the building.

Since the moment FRIDAY sent the message out through the intercoms, you were trailing behind Thor. It was just a mission, he had been on dozens of them with the team. Still you couldn’t help but feel a little off kilter at the idea of him—and everyone else—going out to fight again. Everything had been so nice and calm for the past few months and you enjoyed it too much.

Soon the rest of the team were filing out of the building towards you both and the quinjet. Thor turned and walked a few yards out away from you before thrusting Mjölnir in the air. In return lightning shattered down from the sky and struck the sleek Asgardian metal and flowed through Thor. Before your eyes, his clothes changed from the relaxed jeans and t-shirt he adorned, to the dense Asgardian leather and metal you had only seen him wear and handful of times. His hair even erupted into braids leading from his forehead down to a low pony tail at the base of his neck.

Was it possible you could get Mjölnir to do a cool costume and hair change on you? Maybe when he got back you could ask him to show you how.

Thor rushed forward and wrapped you in his arms for a bruising kiss. When he finally pulled away you couldn’t help but smile. His bright blue eyes twinkled when he glanced down at you.

“Be careful,” you patted his shoulder. “I’ll have some chilli ready for you all when you get back.”

“Is chilli a soup,” he questioned.

“Depends who you ask,” you laughed. The others were boarding the ship, calling for Thor to join them. You quickly hugged him closer to you and kissed his neck softly. “I love you big guy.”

Thor finally pulled away from your embrace, holding you at arms length while his now steel grey eyes looked between yours. A slow smile worked its way onto his face before he kissed you quickly, “And I love you as well drotting.”

Then he was gone, jogging towards the ship that had already started and was hovering a few feet off of the ground.

You watched the jet take off, still wrapped up in the thought that you both just said you loved each other.

One Week Later

Worrying wasn’t something you resorted to usually, but oddly when it came to the God of Thunder all you seemed to do was worry. You tried to tell yourself he was a God, and had the rest of the team with him. Everything was fine and the mission was just taking longer than normal. So you tried to keep yourself busy.

FRIDAY had compiled a list of things for you to work on to keep your mind busy. There were numerous tasks around base that needed an installation, tune up or a complete repair. This started around day four, from the moment you woke up until the moment you went to sleep you were tinkering on things. It worked all too well. One time while trying to replace the brakes on one of Tony’s Roadsters you fell asleep underneath it between brakes.

You had just showered and was thinking about ordering in a pizza when FRIDAY came to life on the intercoms. “The Team is on their way back Miss L/N. Estimated time of arrival is five hours from now,” the AI stated.

Five hours was a little short for you to make chilli, but if you cooked it on high in the crockpots you should be able to get it done just as they arrived.

The hours flew by. You had prepared the chilli shortly after hearing FRIDAY’s message and it was almost ready. Everyone would want to shower and change before eating anyway you would think. Smiling to yourself, you waited by the door eagerly to greet everyone when the reached the living room.

Tony was the first to get through the door, he didn’t look injured but just extremely tired. Soon everyone was piling in the living room, some a little roughed up but all tired. Thor was the last to get in the door, and you started to stampede to him with excitement of seeing him.

Just as you were about to throw your arms around him, you noticed that blood coated his left shoulder.

“What happened,” you gasped, lightly using a finger to lift at his shredded armor to see the shallow wound.

He didn’t answer but pulled you to him and kissed you soundly. After he pulled away, he smiled through a hiss of pain as he shrugged, “The enemy got in a few good blows.”

“Chilli is in the kitchen,” you called out as everyone started to disperse, “help yourselves!”

Thor started towards the hall towards his room. “Schat,” he said. Accustomed to the nickname—though you didn’t know what it meant still—you turned back to him. “I am going to bathe myself. Will you bring food for us both to my rooms? I would like to take a nap after we eat.”

Wanting to give him enough time to shower, you grabbed a few Tupperware bowls and lids to carry the chilli in. After filling both bowls up, you sprinkled in some bacon and cheese and put the top back on. A few slices of sourdough bread and some drinks later, you were making your way to Thor’s room with a small picnic of sorts. The shower was still running when you dropped off the food and left to your own room to change into something to sleep in. If Thor was going to take a nap, you might end up taking one as well.

Just as you settled yourself against his dozen or so pillows, Thor emerged from the bathroom with steam covered in just basketball shorts. The way he smiled when he saw you caused you to smile. One week away made you yearn for his touch and affection. You missed the way he smiled at you, or the way his eyes would almost twinkle when he looked into your own. The gash on his shoulder didn’t look as bad as before, though it should probably still get bandaged.

Thor settled himself down on the bed just as you got up. “Where are you going,” he asked confused, reaching out for you when you slid past him towards the bathroom.

“To get something for your war wound,” you replied as you riffled through his medicine cabinet. Tony kept everything stocked here, bless his soul.

On your knees, you leaned over Thor’s side and carefully used some topical ointments, gauze and tape to cover his gash. He hissed once or twice while you rubbed in the ointment but did not complain.

After he was bandaged, you settled in and passed him his food. Each of you ate in relative silence, but quickly. Your mind stopped racing and calmed its worry the moment he walked through the living room door. Even with blood on him, your worry reduced significantly. Surprisingly you had forgotten your small conversation about loving one another before he left. Now—well now it was all you could think about now that he was here and settled.

He must have meant it, Thor doesn’t typically say things he doesn’t mean. That being said, you felt ecstatic at the fact that he did feel the same as you; that he loved you.

“Ah,” he smiled after taking in his last spoonful, “this is chilli. I like this one.”

You laughed softly, using the bread to scoop up the last of the tomato sauce in your bowl. Thor collected the empty dishes and set them aside on one of his nightstands. You mentioned you were going to put them away, but he grunted, pushing you back into the pillows and curling up against your side with his head on your chest. “Not now schat,” he grumbled, “now it is time for napping, we can clean the dirty dishware later.”

He snuggled up against you, arms around your waist and legs curling up towards yours.

That is where you laid for a few hours, your hand tangled in his hair while the other rubbed up and down his arms. The TV was flashing some show, sound turned down low. You had tried to sleep yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to, because you were enjoying him being draped around you too much. At one point, his one of his deep snores cut off, throwing him into a coughing fit. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, running your hand down his back in an act of comfort so that he settled back into normal breathing.

One of his hands slipped under your shirt and slid up to cup your rib cage, thumb rubbing back and forth over your skin softly. You sighed in content, letting your eyes drift from the television to him again. Lazy blue eyes were twinkling back at you, sleepily awake it seemed. “Hey big guy,” you murmured, not wanting to completely rouse him from being asleep. Everything was nice and peaceful for the time being.

“Hello drotting,” he whispered back, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your neck where he could reach. “I missed you.”

A smile worked its way on your face between giggles as his mustache tickled your flesh.

“I missed you too,” you replied, threading fingers through his hair as his lips started to build pressure in kisses. They started soft and low on your neck, lazy, and then built up to harsh and sucking at the spots you were most sensitive.

A soft moan left your lips when his teeth nipped at your earlobe, toes curling. In just a few moments he had easily slid from your side to straddling your thighs and leaning over you while he lavished your neck and collarbone with kisses. Hot hands were rubbing the skin of your hips and stomach, working your shirt up inch by inch.

This wasn’t new to the both of you. From the time you returned from Asgard, there were plenty of times the both of you were completely naked to one another. Those times of fooling around were amazing, but you still wanted to take the final step. Determined to make those wants come true, you helped him pull off the t-shirt you were wearing before gluing your mouth to his.

Heat consumed you fast and hard. A small patch of sweat started on your forehead as the kiss you shared grew—as did the ache in your core.

One of Thor’s hands sought out your breast, softly rubbing a thumb across the pert peak of it in between soft squeezes. The other was slowly inching your underwear down to your thighs. You honestly only noticed when the cool air of the room was brushing against your warm heat when he gently urged your legs apart.

“I must make it up to you for every day I have been gone,” he said, voice deep and husky as he pulled you by the hips to the edge of the bed. “Seven days. Seven orgasms? Does that sound fair to you schat?”

The fire in your core blazed to life and left a nice red blush from the tops of your thighs all the way up your stomach to your neck and face. Thor did like to say things to get you worked up, this wasn’t an exception. Just the idea alone of being pushed to explosive pleasure seven times seemed like it would break you almost. Was that even possible for one day of fooling around?

Your thoughts were cut short as a hot moist heat lapped at your opening for a second before swiping up to your bundle of nerves.

A ragged moan left you as Thor repeated the action. Debilitating pleasure coursed through your veins as you grabbed a hand full of his hair to yank him up and away. His brows furrowed in confusion as you panted and gazed down at him. “I’m not sure if I can take seven, but I want one to be with you inside of me,” you blushed even as the words left your lips.

One of the most wicked grins you had ever seen erupted across his face. “Yes Y/N, those are my intentions,” he murmured before diving back between your legs.

At a loss for words you fell back into the bed with both hands on his head, urging him to continue while your hips shamelessly thrust against his lips and tongue. You were thrilled at the thought of finally experiencing sex with Thor. Just trying to imagine what it would be like sent tingles down your spine and into your core. Another whimpering moan left you as you continued to think about it, letting Thor pleasure you while your mind ran wild. The soft thrust of two fingers into your opening, caused you to twitch with ecstasy, you were close.

The inner fantasy you conjured changed drastically to envision Thor thrusting into you, in tandem with his fingers thrusting into you, and his soft moans of pleasure, and the simulation to your clit by him sucking softly at it. This pushed you over the edge, crying out softly as your hips jerked out of control and riding out the waves of pleasure that were consuming you. Through it all, he lapped at you more erotically, fingers twisting and turning inside of you while you cried out.

When the last dregs of pleasure left you, you laid limp on his bed panting for breath and smiling softly at the euphoria that settled in you. “I love you,” you murmured softly.

Thor’s hands ran up and down your sides softly, pressing soft kisses to your thighs as he climbed back onto the bed with you. “I love you as well schat,” he replied, lips coming back to your neck before gently pulling you back into the pillows. You got to enjoy a moment of bliss before he had coaxed your legs open once more and trailed his fingers softly over your dripping sex.

“We have all night to enjoy one another,” he laughed, “but I don’t ever remember being such an impatient man as much as I am now.”

Your hand reached down and started to yank at his shorts, trying to pull them off of him. The task wasn’t too easy as he was kneeling on them between your legs, but you managed to get them to his knees. Reaching up with your neck, you pressed a gentle kiss to his chin while a hand grasped him and squeezed affectionately. “I am impatient too,” you murmured, “I think we waited long enough. I just want you already.”

He laughed loudly at this, slipping a finger back into your relaxed sex, pumping slowly. “I have wanted this for a long time, but told myself we couldn’t until I knew you felt the same,” he smiled. His hand expertly played you like a musical instrument while he kissed you thoroughly. The noises he got you to produce was enough to be embarrassed about, but you stopped caring a long time ago.

“Wait,” you pushed him away softly with the soft-spoken word. “You have been waiting for me to tell you I love you before we could sleep together?”

Thor looked so relaxed on his knees between your legs. One of his hands actually was stroking himself slowly while the other was between your thighs. All the while he was smiling happily. “Of course,” he said simply. “As I said, you are too good for simple pleasures. Loving one another is far greater than simple pleasures when it comes to sexual relations.”

You were at a loss for words. It was a little hard to try and focus with him pleasuring you still, and your mind was racing. How long has he loved you? How did he even know he loved you? As a God, he had to have lived many lifetimes. You weren’t young exactly, but you lived long enough to know that this feeling you had for him was truly love. Starting to become overwhelmed with all the thoughts and feelings, you were breathing harder as you felt your body start to build for another climax.

All at once Thor impaled himself in you, causing yourself to climax again and cry out in pleasure while tears streaked down your cheeks. What was this emotional state you were in? The bliss from another orgasm was there, but you couldn’t help the tears that were coming quickly now as you moved your hips against his.

It was a tight fit, but you felt so complete and whole with him stretching you around himself, riding out the orgasm with small thrusts against him.

Thor pressed his lips to your cheeks, tongue trailing all the tears that you created before kissing you soundly while he thrust into you. This pleasure was better than anything else he had done to you. Every time he retreated and pushed back into you, he stimulated your bundle of nerves and had you crying out for more. You almost couldn’t breathe it was so good. Suddenly Thor thrust deep and hard, causing you to scream out in surprise with another climax and loss of warmth as he quickly pulled out of you and held himself above you.

How in the hell could he bring you to bliss so quickly like that?

Trying to gain your barrings, you looked up at him confused as he had his eyes closed and held himself in his hand tightly. His hand didn’t move, but he took a few deep breaths before opening his eyes to you once more. Confused, you touched his shoulder lightly, feeling yourself still throbbing in beat with your heart after another onslaught of pleasure.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, leaning forward he kissed you thoroughly for a moment. “I didn’t want it to end just yet.”

He pounced on you again, kissing you back into the pillows and taking your legs to wrap around his hips while he ground his pelvis into yours. You could feel his member between your legs, pushing between your cheeks and into the sheets. “Before I get lost in you again,” he smirked, “where would you like me to spill myself?”

You had been prepared for this. Just when you started seeing Liam all those months ago, you decided you needed to be prepared and get on birth control. Granted you were determined to still use a condom until you knew of his sexual history, but with Thor you weren’t really worried. Gods didn’t really get STDs from what you could gather. A long time ago you had asked Thor if he ever got sick and he replied that human aliments didn’t affect him, Asgardians never fell ill.

You crushed your lips to his chest, kissing and sucking on his neck as you worked yourself over his pelvis. “You finish with me,” you whispered. “I take a shot to prevent pregnancy.”

Reconnecting your lips with his, he guided you back to the bed, gently cupping himself and sliding into your center slowly. A soft grunt left you as he became fully seated. It was a little less tight than just moments ago, but it still felt amazing. He worked himself slowly in and out while kissing you hungrily. The pleasure soon built up again and you were moaning uncontrollably into his mouth or neck when you needed air to breath. His hips snapped at just the right angles, but the slow steady pace was maddening. More than once you tried to urge him faster by moaning in his ear, “Faster, please—oh Thor please.”

He moaned into your neck, but paid no mind to your wishes. Instead you clawed at his back, crying out as you edged closer and closer to another blissful orgasm.

“If you won’t go faster,” you pleased, “harder?”

Thor grunted and obliged, snapping his hips a little harder than the last time and grinding his pelvis into you for more stimulation. You screamed happily, enjoying the ease of ache. Still it wasn’t enough, but you were content for the moment.

One of his hands reached down from by your head and cupped a breast, tweaking your peaks almost painfully. In turn your hips twisted in the action and sought out more pleasure from his aching pace. A loud whimper came from him before he kissed you harshly. Your lip got pinched and you could taste blood slightly when his tongue invaded your month you tangle with your own. It brought on another moan, but suddenly he increased his speed.

Even when you needed breath, he didn’t tear his face away, you both just panted into each other’s lips. In seconds you were crying out again, falling into blinding oblivion as pleasure racked your body once more. Thor’s thrusts had grown erratic, and his own moans grew in volume. Your pleasure only seemed to peak and tumble over even more when you felt him grow and explode inside of you, more heat filling you from the inside out.

Every motion between the both of you seemed to slow, breath lost as you settled onto the bed and felt Thor’s weight press against you softly. Not enough to suffocate you but enough to feel comforting.

Suddenly Thor started to laugh, causing you to open your eyes and take him in. You were shocked to see wetness on his cheeks. Your thumbs wiped it away, and in turn he did the same. Not realizing it, you had cried again, and for some reason so did he.

“Why are you crying,” you asked. You had only seen a handful of men cry before.

“The same reason you were,” he said smiling before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I told you loving one another would make joining greater than simple pleasures.”

Laughs left your chest at his words because he was right. You had had sex with men before, but this was the most beautiful and pleasurable time it had ever happened. Before you thought you loved one man, but that was nothing compared to this. Both of you were still panting and wiping at each others faces, trying to catch breath. His skin was molded perfectly with yours as he was still nestled inside of you.

“We should take a shower,” you murmured, kissing his shoulder. “I still need to clean up the kitchen.”

When Thor slowly pulled out of you, you whimpered at the loss. Suddenly you felt completely empty, as if you were missing something that belonged. “Sh,” he whispered, “we will come together again soon.”

Did he feel it too? As if something was missing? You didn’t get a chance to ask before he kissed you again and lifted you into his arms.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair. A smile that threatened to break your cheeks came over your face.

“I know, I believe you already told me,” you cheeked back to him, enjoying the closeness between you both.

“I have seven days worth of telling you to make up for,” he said as a matter of fact. “And more pleasure to bestow on you too, but that can wait for later.”

You closed your eyes in the shower as you felt Thor’s fingers work shampoo into your hair. The warmth that encased you from his body pressed against yours, the water from the shower and the feeling of a mild scalp massage was amazing.

This, this was love.

Previous Chapter << Part 9: Popcorn

Next Chapter >> Part 11: French Toast

Taglist

@jumpingmanatee @thorfanficwriter @lancsnerd @captainamericasbeard @jennie22feona @alyssatjuhhh

#thor fanfic #thor fanfiction #thor x reader #thor x y/n #thor #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #reader insert #of food and comfort #Thor Odinson #thor odinson x reader

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quotablefanfiction · 3 years

Quote

Oddly enough, being irritated with Tony seems to calm Steve down, maybe because it’s so familiar.

Being irritated with Tony is a normal part of Steve’s day (chp. 1)

When I Think (Oh, it Terrifies Me) by celli (AO3) Avengers (Marvel Movies/Comics) – Explicit – Steve Rogers/Tony Stark #Alternate Universe #Canon Divergence #Telepathy #First Time Sex #PTSD #Present Tense #Tony hates magic

Look, some mornings you wake up and little green men are invading New York City; some mornings you wake up and you can hear Captain America’s voice in your head. Tony has been an Avenger long enough that he saves his freakout for important things.

#fanfiction #quote #Avengers #Tony Stark #When I Think (Oh it Terrifies Me)#celli

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buckybarnesbingo · 4 years

Photo

Our third and final round of 3 Prompt Summaries!

Prompts by @riotwritesthings - Rainstorms, breakfast, firearms

Summary by @dreaminglypeach - Bucky’s not going to lie, Malaysia in the middle of monsoon season is far from his ideal holiday destination.

And that’s before he winds up trading gunfire with Hydra agents before he’s even had his breakfast-curry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompts by @dreaminglypeach - Palace, cross-stitch, Valkyrie

Summary by @fightingforcreativity - Valkyrie hadn't been to the Palace since her lovers death. Too shameful, too painful the memory of her greatest failure. She didn't want to join Loki and Thor back there, in the end she followed for her big guy Hulk, and her tiny scientist Tony. What neither had expected, was Hela already being there, trying to claim what had been hers rightfully once. The battle was fierce and the lose high, but in the end they managed to win and while the palace, while Asgard burned, Valkyrie stood watching.

"You know, my uncle Bucky used to cross stitch whenever he lost something. I started to do that, too."

With these words, Tony had pushed some cloth and a needle to her, giving her a gentle pat to the shoulder and left again. On the cloth was already the outline of the palace and Valkyrie had to chock back a sob.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompts - jungle fever, meeting under duress, “punk”, palace

Summary by @riotwritesthings - For the record: it’s all Steve’s fault. Being lost in the jungle was supposed to be the worst part of Bucky’s day. Now he’s caught in a snare, dangling from a tree branch, and probably hallucinating, because he’d swear he keeps catching glances of a palace through the trees as he twists and dangles. To make matters worse, he can hear footsteps approaching and he has a feeling he’s about to meet whatever hunter set up this trap. If he ever sees Steve again, he’s going to kill that punk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompts by @riotwritesthings - Rainstorms, breakfast, firearms

Summary by @fightingforcreativity - Steve hated that everything since they came back resolved around Stark Tech. Stark phone here, Stark Vision (not Vision but a television) there and ; "Oh Stevie! Look at this arm! It's full with Stark Tech. Tony even included firearms!"

If Steve was honest, it wasn't the tech itself that bothered him. What really got under his skin was Bucky making goo eyes at Tony, even before breakfast. What bothered him even more was, that Tony and him still hadn't gone back to their old... whatever they had.

When they were discussing where to have their weekly train session, Steve suggested to fly over to Wakanda and meet with T'Challa. If he was honest mainly because he wanted Tony and Bucky to be distracted by other people and not each other.

"There is supposed to be a rainstorm coming this afternoon, we shouldn't head out with the quinjet." Tony had retorted immediately.

"What's the matter, Stark? Stark Tech isn't water proofed or what?"

In hindsight, Steve shouldn't have challenged Tony there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompts by @blurockets - Captain Marvel, amnesia buddies, wolverine

Summary by @fightingforcreativity - Finding out that she was from Earth and not- well she really hated the whole Kree affair. Still, there were gaps in her memory, filling her with a sense of dread. judging by the way Stark and Rhodes looked at her she had known them once before.

She leaned on the railing, over-viewing the New Avengers training session when Barnes stepped next to her. "What can I do for you, Sarge?"

"I heard them talkin'. Wanted to know if it's true."

"What and who?"

"You've got memory... you're not remembering your whole life?"

She turned to the former assassin and her expression softened. If one person could relate to how she felt, it was Barnes. "Yeah..."

"... you wanna join our club?"

"Club?"

"Wolverine and I got the soldier being amnesiacs club going. Helps sometimes."

"Oh. Well, sure."

Somehow, Carol found herself a place amongst them, and this is her and their story of getting better together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompts - Cross stitch, rainstorms, punk

Summary by @blurockets - Where Maria hill gains a new cross stitch buddy on a rainy day. Maria talks about punk history while she stitches. She pulls the needle through talking about the culture and brings it around as she talks about how it related to queer culture. Bucky listens to her talk about the ones that were lost in 'the crisis' with a passion he had never heard her express before. There was something military in her bearing as she went futher into detail about the things he had missed. Like she knew, and knew he would care. It was tragic the things he learned but knowing them. That they still survived. It was good. It was heartening.

The rain hammering the roof of the compound provided a backdrop as she stitched a 32-bit like figure (He will have to thank Clint again for explaining the styles of video games) with a bright green mohawk

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prompts by

@blurockets - Captain Marvel, amnesia buddies, wolverine

@dreaminglypeach - Palace, cross-stitch, Valkyrie

@riotwritesthings - Rainstorms, breakfast, firearms

@fightingforcreativity - jungle fever, meeting under duress, "Punk"

"For f*cks sake!" Bucky was frustrated. His sisters had always made it seem so easy to cross stitch some patterns on a torn knee or shirt, so it looked good again. He just wanted to repair his shirt he had accidentally ripped earlier that morning because he had been in a hurry to get to breakfast after Steve's and his morning run. Steve, that punk, had laughed at him for ruining yet another of his shirts.

The kids of the X-man school were currently visiting and training with them, and thus the usual breakfast table was packed if you made your way to it too late. So it had been a frequent thing for Bucky, sadly enough.

A soft knock and a contradicting loud, "Sarge, what's up?" let Bucky look up and come face to face with Carol and Valkyrie.

Somehow those two were attached to the hip, often joined by Shuri and often enough Tony. Oddly, even Wolverine seemed to be around them way too often.

"You look like your birthday was crashed due a rainstorm." While Val really tried, she sometimes still slipped up phrases, just like that one.

"I'd rather face meeting some HYDRA assholes in a freaking jungle, catching jungle fever, then having to deal with this!" Bucky sighed, shoving his shirt aside.

"Awww, c'mon, bandit, let me help you. I mean from amnesiac to amnesiac, I gotta give ya a hand," Carol playfully drawled, which resulted in Bucky pouting.

"I should have taken T'Challa's invite to the Palace when I had a chance", he grumbled."

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #discord party #3 prompts summary game

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elcorhamletlive · 4 years

Link

fandom: MCU ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark tags: Light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, de-serumed Steve.

summary: Steve deals with discomfort after losing the serum. Tony helps.

If he had known, he would never have entered the ship.

It was easy to say it now, though, in hindsight. During the battle, no one knew if the spaceship had been fully evacuated, and Steve’s position was ideal to drop in. Sure, he could have waited, but HYDRA clearly wanted what was inside the ship, and, if there was anyone in there, any second they missed increased the risk of casualties, and Steve didn’t want any lives lost that day, alien or not.

Except no one was inside.

Nothing, in fact, seemed to be inside – that is, aside from one very small, very significant machine irradiating a green glow, that turned its rays towards Steve the second he saw it.

He was a moment too late to raise the shield, and, if the ray had been a laser, he would most likely be dead by now.

Except it wasn’t. Instead, it was, according to what Bruce said later, some kind of small, focused time travel device. Bruce’s theory was that it was probably used to study alien specimens, being able to take a single sample of a plant or an animal and transform it into different phases of its life, allowing the species that owned the machine (whoever they were) to properly study it.

His eyes had sparkled when he proclaimed this. It was, in his words, “absolutely brilliant.”

Steve hated it.

Now that he was back to the small, skinny frame he had spent so much of his life in, he especially hated it. He would have preferred to be turned back into a baby, if those were his only options.

No one seemed to fully understand the extent of Steve’s frustration. A few moments after he was transformed, he was kneeling on the ground, struggling to catch a breath with his new-old faulty lungs, swimming in his battle suit, and Tony and Thor had flown in, and they both seemed to focus more on the fact that he was alive than anything else.

Sam ended up being the one who flew him back to the quinjet, where he was sent straight to medical while the others surveyed the rest of the ship.

So Steve sat there, alone in the medical area, listening as SHIELD’s doctors took his vitals and gave him a rundown of all the ails and health issues he perfectly remembered having. It was like being trapped in a nightmare you already had several nights in a row, and that you thought you wouldn’t have when you closed your eyes to sleep again, but then you did.

The result was that, by the time the team got back, his mood was already awful, and it hadn’t really improved ever since, in the past few days. He resisted any attempts made by Nat and Thor to talk about it, and, to be honest, he hadn’t so much as glanced at Tony so far.

“Okay, so,” Bruce said, going through a tablet where he could see every single one of the failures of Steve’s body. “I take it that you’re adapting well to the hearing aid?”

Steve nodded.

“Okay. How are your lungs doing?”

“I’m breathing,” Steve deadpanned. He felt a little guilty immediately afterwards – Bruce hadn’t shrunk him, he had nothing to do with this - but Bruce didn’t seem to mind, only typing something else in his tablet. Steve shifted a little, and the already sharp pain in his back increased for one excruciating moment before quieting down once he returned to a more forgiving position. “How about the reverse ray?”

“We’re still working on it,” Bruce replied, and Steve held back a frustrated sigh. “But we think we’ve figured out the ray’s mechanism already – so it’s really a matter of when, and not if.”

“Right,” Steve said. That still wasn’t enough – the reality of being back in that body was enough to overwhelm the rationality that it would all be over soon – but it helped.

“In the meantime,” Bruce continued, back to looking at the tablet, and Steve got the distinct feeling he was avoiding looking at him. “Is there anything else about your health you want to talk about? Anything bothering you?”

Steve clenched his fists. Everything, from his breath to his eyesight to the angle of his vision, had changed in a heartbeat, and Steve had a hard time figuring out what bothered him the most.

Or—on second though, no, he didn’t. For all the old issues he was having to face again, the thing that bothered Steve the most was having to stay benched on the days after the battle for the ship. He couldn’t help Thor while he was guarding the perimeter just in case more HYDRA agents or aliens would show up. He couldn’t help Hulk and Tony to unload heavy machinery they got from the spaceship in a quinjet. Hell, he couldn’t even sit down to analyze the intel they got with the captured HYDRA members to form future strategies to rally basis, because, as Fury put it, he couldn’t plan battles he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fight yet. Even if it was a matter of when, as Bruce put it, the when mattered, because SHIELD couldn’t take any chances he’d plan an OP he might not be able to put in practice when they needed him to.

So instead he went to the infirmary regularly, bore the endless tests Bruce and every doctor at SHIELD seemed to want to do with him, and generally walked around the Tower being useless, watching as his team learned to work without him.

Yeah, that was by far the worst part.

But he couldn’t say any of that to Bruce. He’d sound whiney and unfair—it was, after all, ridiculous to resent the fact that the Avengers seemed to be doing very well without his leadership. He knew he should be glad things were working smoothly, instead of sitting there and complaining about how his back was aching.

“I’m fine,” he said then, because he was. “Can I go now?” He hated sitting there in the lab, feeling exposed and pitiful. He was tired and frustrated and he wanted to go for a run or punch a sandbag, and he couldn’t do either of those things.

“Sure,” Bruce agreed.

Steve hurried to get up from the exam table, but sitting up made his spine ache in protest. He did his best to keep his expression under control. Back then, before the serum, he used to have those pains all the time, a result of his oddly twisted skeleton. He had tried to correct his posture, because God knew he didn’t need to look even shorter than he already was, but all those efforts had been useless.

“Are you going to your floor?” Bruce asked, raising his head from his phone. “Tony said he’ll be coming home in a few minutes. He’s asking if you want dinner.”

Steve thought guiltily of his own phone, carefully forgotten next to his bed precisely so he could avoid that interaction. “No, thanks,” he said, standing up and walking towards the door.

Tony ended up ambushing him during one of his checkup sessions with Bruce.

Or, well – it was supposed to be a checkup session with Bruce, or so Steve thought when he came down to the lab. He had been led to believe Tony was still at a board meeting. Instead, as soon as he steps inside, there Tony was, sitting on a chair, fiddling with some schematics Steve didn’t recognize.

“Hey,” Tony said, not raising his eyes to look at him. Steve swallowed.

“Is Bruce here?”

“Nope,” Tony replied, popping the last syllable with a deliberate casualness that just looked, well, very deliberate. He twirled on his chair, looking at Steve. “He asked me to do your checkup today.”

Steve stayed silent for a moment, Tony staring at him as if in a challenge, until Steve broke the dam. “No, he didn’t.”

“Yeah.” Tony raised his hands in a surrender motion, but his eyes didn’t yield. “You’re right, he didn’t. I asked.” He stood up, finally dropping the casual act to look at Steve with a wounded expression. “Because you were avoiding me and I didn’t know what else to do. So I decided to surprise you during your doctor appointment. Sue me – you won’t be the first, or the last.”

Steve looked away. “What do you want?”

Tony scoffed. “I don’t know? To talk, maybe? Perhaps it was different in your time, Cap, but nowadays, when you’re hooking up with someone, it gets a little weird if they just start ignoring you out of the blue.”

The sharpness in his voice – the ironic Cap, along with the mocking reference to his time – stung, a reminder of a time where this was the only voice Tony seemed to have to talk with him. They had been past that for a while, now – way past that, Steve thought, face heating a little at the memory of their last encounters – and it wasn’t fair for Steve to make Tony feel he had to retreat back to this kind of treatment.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He meant it – honestly, his intention hadn’t been to ignore Tony. He just… didn’t want to face him. “I guess I was still—adjusting.”

Tony watched him warily, and then his face softened, though he still looked a little pained. “Yeah, I imagined that.” His eyes studied Steve, who crossed his arms in reflex. “How are you holding up?”

Tonight, I woke up thinking I was dying, Steve thought. Then I remembered to use my inhaler. Then I lay down and kept thinking of how I can’t run half a mile now, and I fell asleep again, because now I’m tired all the time, and I’m sleeping more than I’ve slept in the past three months combined. I dreamt I was useless, and then I woke up and I was right.

In a different world, maybe he’d be able to say it aloud.

“I’m fine,” he said instead.

Tony also crossed his arms, mimicking Steve’s stance. “Really?”

Steve’s stomach twisted. He wanted to tell Tony everything he was feeling – the discomfort, the embarrassment, the frustration, the fear – but the words wouldn’t come out. Part of it was because he felt unable to say those things to anyone, but another part, he knew, was because this was Tony. Tony had spent so much time with him, the last few months. He had touched him and smiled at him and kissed him, and now Steve was too afraid to face him, too afraid to make him realize he most likely wouldn’t want to do any of these things as long as Steve was like this.

He looked down, his face hot with embarrassment and discomfort at Tony’s stare. His behavior wasn’t fair – Tony deserved better than to be avoided, especially with no apparent reason. But still, he found the words wouldn’t come out, locked inside his throat, trapped under too much fear and pride to be set free.

“My back hurts,” he said instead.

That, at least, was true. The pain had varied in intensity since the first hours after the serum was removed, growing and lessening at random intervals, but never truly vanishing.

It wasn’t everything, but it was something.

Tony seemed to digest the information.

“It’s because of the scoliosis,” he said, and Steve’s head snapped at him. “Geez, don’t look so shocked—I mean, come on, it was in your file. It’s hardly a state secret.”

Steve clenched his jaw. He didn’t like the idea of Tony looking at his file—ridiculously, he was embarrassed at the thought of Tony reading his long catalog of ailments, enumerated like an exaggeratedly extensive grocery shopping list. Three chronic colds, a piece of high blood pressure, a pinch of asthma, and some general heart trouble, because you never know when you might need it.

Tony walked closer to him, his face inquiring. “Where does it hurt?”

“Just—all over,” Steve replied without thinking, then quickly added: “On my back, I mean.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Tony circled him, not letting his eyes off Steve’s body. Steve tightened the cross of his arms. “Bruce’s data didn’t mention anything about it bothering you, but I guess it should have been obvious. It just slipped by us.”

Guilt bubbled in Steve’s stomach. “It’s okay,” he said, because God knew he was being enough of a burden without anyone worrying about the effects of his newly re-acquired hideous posture. “You’ve both been working a lot.”

Tony ignored him, pulling his phone from his pocket, pressing a few buttons on the screen. “I suppose it’s a regular back ache, so there’s really nothing to prescribe other than an analgesic. If you were going to stay like this in the long term, the obvious suggestion would be physical therapy, but by all accounts, you should be back to physical perfection soon, so it’s a little pointless.”

Steve winced. Tony wasn’t saying anything to be cruel, he knew, but still, like this and physical perfection hurt. It occurred to him maybe Tony had been working very hard on reverting him back to the serum because he knew how awkward it would be to have to break things off between them entirely because Steve now looked like a malnourished fourteen-year-old.

Then Tony raised his eyes. “I could maybe give you a back rub?” Since Steve didn’t immediately reply, he continued: “It’s a pretty effective way to alleviate the pain. And I know how to do it – I used to do it on Pepper, like, all the time. Gained some experience.”

Steve inhaled sharply. There was no way to refuse without seeming too rude, or to make Tony think he really was just avoiding him because he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

Still, he didn’t want Tony touching his body – not that body. He didn’t want him to pay any more attention to it than it was strictly necessary (maybe not even that).

Steve stood in silence for a moment, and then the unwillingness of being unfairly rude to Tony won out his conflict. “Okay,” he said.

Tony smiled. “Alright.” He gestured to a lab table behind him. “Do you want to get started? Usually I’d offer somewhere more comfortable,” his voice lowered a bit, with an edge of suggestion that sent a spark of heat down Steve’s belly, “but I’d like for JARVIS to gather data during the process, if you don’t mind.”

Steve didn’t know how that could help, but he nodded.

He followed Tony to the chosen table, near Tony’s work counter. Tony positioned himself across it and patted a spot for Steve.

“You can sit up or lie down, your pick.”

Steve choose to sat up. It made him feel less exposed, though only marginally.

“So,” Tony started, after he positioned himself. “Is there a specific spot or area that’s been bugging you?”

Steve thought about the question. It was hard to tell – most of the time, he found that his back pain tended to morph into a general, enveloping feel of discomfort, accompanied by a burning ache in a few specific areas. He did his best to point these out – unsurprisingly, they veered mostly to the center, between his shoulder blades, down to his coccyx and up to his neck.

“Okay,” Tony said. Steve braced for his touch, but, even after a moment, there was nothing. “Uh, Steve? I need you to take your shirt off.”

Steve pressed his lips together in a thin line. While that was an obvious request for a back rub, he didn’t want to relinquish the protection of his oversized t-shirt.

“That’s a weird time to get modest, you know,” Tony continued. Steve’s stomach felt tied up on itself, in a painful knot of anxiety. “I’ve seen a lot from you now, so that ship has kind of sailed, buddy.”

Not like this, Steve thought. Tony hadn’t seen the weird curve of his back, how one of his shoulders was slightly more elevated than the other one, or how his spine stuck out against his skin, as if he was going to break with a single touch. He hadn’t seen any of it.

But maybe he should, Steve thought, a little bitterly. It wasn’t as if Tony had any illusion that a beautiful muscular back was under the t-shirt’s fabric, but the reality was still uglier than if Steve had just dropped fifty pounds overnight. He wasn’t just small and skinny – his body was just strange, twisted and frail and nearly broken in its very shape, and maybe Tony had to get a good look at it firsthand to truly understand the extent of it.

“Okay,” Steve said, his heart hammering in his chest. He removed his shirt in one hurried, nervous movement, as if he was pulling a band aid.

For a moment, Tony didn’t say anything. Steve’s face burned, heat concentrating dangerously in his vision. He blinked rapidly to avoid any further humiliation.

“This might be a little cold,” Tony warned, and it indeed was – his hands lay on Steve’s shoulders in a careful, slow motion, and yet they sent a chill down Steve’s back, slick with some kind of oil. “I’m gonna start on top, alright?”

Steve nodded, wordlessly. Tony splayed his hands, his two thumbs pressing under Steve’s neck, drawing a circle of light pressure, and it hurt for a moment, until it didn’t, and Steve had to hold back a sigh. Tony’s touch was steady and strong, and his motions brought relief to Steve’s neck and shoulders, as if pushing every muscle to its respective spot. Even with the oil, the contact with Tony’s calloused hands eventually grew warmer, and Steve melted a little at every squeeze.

God, he thought, at a danger of feeling his eyes burning again. It had barely been a week since Tony had last touched him, and he didn’t even know he had missed it so much.

“Feels good, huh?” Tony whispered, sounding amused, and Steve almost instinctively attempted to straighten his back. “Hey, relax. It’s supposed to feel good, you know.”

He kept the massage focused on Steve’s upper body for a while, raising both hands to the back of Steve’s neck to firmly press his fingers, one by one, against Steve’s skin. Steve felt as if his neck was being elongated, relief climbing to his head and spreading all over his body.

“I think you should lie down, now,” Tony said, and Steve, breaking from his trance, opened his eyes.

He turned slowly to place his legs over the table. Tony helped him turn over, and Steve noticed the way his eyes traced the front of his body, studying his exposed chest. He hurried to lie on his belly, even if Tony eyeing his back wasn’t much better.

“Gotta say,” Tony commented as he placed his hands on the area under Steve’s shoulder blades. “I thought you wouldn’t let me do this. Almost asked Bruce to offer it instead.”

Guilt curled in Steve’s chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue. He wouldn’t have minded nearly as much if it was Bruce seeing his naked torso. It was the thought of Tony’s opinion on his current body that scared him the most.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Tony chuckled.

“Relax.” He spread some more oil over Steve’s lower back. “He’s the healthcare professional, I get it.” Steve almost opened his mouth to say that clearly, he didn’t, when Tony’s thumbs pressed on his lower muscles and he inhaled sharply instead. “But I’m not so bad, see?”

“You’re… definitely confident,” Steve deadpanned, mostly just so Tony would laugh again, and he succeeded.

“I’m not a pro, but I have a few tricks,” Tony said. “Besides, from what I’ve read, your case is pretty mild. Anyway, nowadays there’s surgery, too, which also can help.”

Steve stayed silent for a moment, but then he couldn’t help himself anymore: “But I won’t need it, right? I’m—I’m getting back to normal soon.”

Tony’s hands stopped moving. “Yes, you are. It’s just a matter of reversing the ray’s mechanism – Bruce and I will get it done in a few more days.” Even already knowing that, relief loosened Steve’s chest. “But…”

Steve tensed up. “But what?”

“But, I mean, you know you don’t have a death sentence, right? A lot has changed since everyone declared you unfit for duty. Everything you have is either treatable or manageable. Sure, you can’t rip off car doors anymore, but—” He paused, and Steve heard a sharp inhale of breath. “The shield isn’t heavy. All you’d need is a little practice with it, to get the hang of your new body balance. At worst, you could get some new gear for extra protection, but that’s it. You can still fight even if your body functions differently – look at Rhodey.”

Steve blinked, the impact of Tony’s words washing over him. He made it all sound so simple, so obvious.

“Tony,” he croaked, a little unsure of what to say. “That’s—that sounds like a lot of work to keep a ninety-pound asthmatic on the field.”

“Bullshit,” Tony countered, and his words cut through the insistent cloud of Steve’s misery, certain and unwavering. “We need you—your… your leadership, okay? Hell, I’ll build an armor if that’s what it takes. Nobody’s benching you, Cap.”

“I don’t want an armor,” Steve smiled. He looked away, his head turned to the opposite direction, so Tony hopefully couldn’t tell his eyes were misty. “But thank you, Tony.”

“Are you sure?” Tony asked, and if Steve were to guess, he’d say he was only half-joking. “I’d be willing to give you some cool party tricks. Not as cool as mine, mind you, but something entertaining, for sure.”

“I’d rather stick with my shield,” Steve said. Tony’s hands started spreading the new oil all over, in soothing, large swipes, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. Tony’s touch was comforting, his hands heavy and yet gentle, and his words were still warming up Steve in the inside. “You sure people would take my orders in this size?” he asked, a little dazed.

“’Course they would,” Tony replied – immediately, so certain, as if the possibility of the contrary didn’t even occur to him.

Steve bit his lower lip, relief and comfort washing over him, but there was still one last, gnawing anxiety that he couldn’t ignore.

“What would we do?” he finally forced himself to ask, keeping his eyes shut as an extra, though illusory, protection. He didn’t want to see the expression in Tony’s face. “If I… stayed like this?”

There was a silence in which Steve’s heart sank, and he took a breath to brace himself for the inevitable.

“I… don’t know?” Tony said, sounding perplexed by the question. “I mean, we’d probably need to get you a new wardrobe, in the first place. Not that you don’t look cute walking around in shirts that could swallow you or anything, but it would hardly be practical in the long term.” His voice travelled to Steve’s chest, sweet but clueless, completely unaware of the thought that had been frightening him for so long. As if it was unthinkable. “And, uh, I guess JARVIS would need some upgrades to take into account when ordering food, to watch for your dietary restrictions. And—I don’t know, what else would you need?” he mused, and Steve could see his face clearly in his mind, his tongue sticking out as whenever he thought of something new, his bright, clever eyes already filled with ideas. “Oh, yeah, of course—physical therapy for your back, probably.”

Steve’s lips curled in an unavoidable smile. He was glad he had closed his eyes – he had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to keep himself together if he was actually looking at Tony right now.

“Would you give me more of these?”

There was a pause, and then Tony leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Steve’s skinny, uneven shoulder. “As many as you’d want,” he whispered, his voice reverent in a way that made Steve shiver.

“What if I don’t stay like this?” Steve asked, because he couldn’t resist—the warmth of Tony’s touch was spreading all over his body, creating a giddy feeling that made Steve want to giggle and say silly things. “But you gave me back rubs anyway?”

Tony chuckled, giving the back of Steve’s neck a nice, affectionate squeeze. “That,” he said, going back to the task of melting Steve’s heart with his fingertips, “could definitely be arranged.”

#stony #stevetony #happy steve bingo #steve rogers #tony stark #my fics

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banashee · 4 years

Link

We can be whatever we want

The dim light of the rising sun floats through the cracks of the shutters early in the morning and Steve blinks against it. Waking up slowly is still a new sensation to him - as is waking up next to another person. It’s not uncomfortable, and he really could get used to this. He listens to the calm, even heartbeat coming from the smaller body next to him. Natasha has her back turned, cuddled up under the blankets and she’s slowly waking up.

Then, Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. There is a very sudden and ice cold touch on his bare skin, and it takes him a second to realize that Natasha is very much responsible for it. She put her freezing feet right on his lower back and hums happily as she wiggles closer, half asleep but clearly aware of what she’s doing.

Steve still curses out loud and then half heartedly complains,

“Urgh, your feet are cold.”

It gets met with a low chuckle from Nat.

“Yup, and you’re warm.” She’s completely unconcerned and even shoves her feet further up the back of his shirt in an attempt to get more warmth. He’s expected it by now, and despite himself, smiles lopsidedly.

“So you want to try and freeze me again?”

“No, then I’d have to find another human hot water bottle to keep me company. Too much effort.”

Natasha isn’t even trying to hide the smile creeping into her voice and then she turns around to wrap her arms around his middle and pushes her icy toes in between his legs instead - but he’s prepared this time. Steve happily pulls her closer, one arm firmly wrapped around her and messing up the back of her bright red hair, something she usually wouldn’t let anyone get away with.

They start the day lazy and comfortable, rolling around in bed. Then they hit the sparring mats together.

Neither of them shows the other any mercy, and about an hour later, they’re drenched in sweat and sporting brand new bruises. They share a shower where they get to more intimate and even more entertaining things than that and Steve can’t help but notice that apparently to them, beating the crap out of each other in the gym seems to count as foreplay these days. He also finds that he doesn’t mind that at all and doesn’t question what that says about either of them.

It’s much easier to just live in the moment and enjoy this - whatever it is - as long as it’ll last.

*+~

Steve has made himself comfortable in his own little corner down in the main lab.

He’s got a whole art studio upstairs in his apartment, because Tony is both over the top in anything and everything he does and very generous to the people around him. The room is large, full of light and equipped with giant windows and just about anything an artist could ever need. Just thinking about how expensive all of it must have been makes Steve's head spin, but he loves the studio and uses it frequently. The only thing it lacks is company though, so he’s often hanging out down in the lab, because both Tony and Bruce spend a lot of time there and the others come by frequently.

Today, Steve is working on a large painting of a nightly scenery, the New York Skyline in blues, purples and small yellow lights. It’s beautiful, and he loves that he can get lost in all the little details.

But it doesn't help that he keeps thinking about Natasha and whatever it is they have. They never put a label on it, and while there is a lot of trust and they’re comfortable around each other, he can’t help but think that it’s probably casual unless they agree to specify it otherwise. Which is a problem - he’s not sure how to bring this up to her. Just in case she doesn’t want something committed, which is entirely possible, with the lives they have. Romantic relationships don’t necessarily work out in a case like this, and it’s just easier to seek out the warmth and intimacy of another person at night just to be able to hold onto something without hoping for or expecting anything else from it.

Then again, romantic relationships are never guaranteed to work out. Steve feels out of his depth in this.

Blindly, he reaches for his coffee mug to drink a few sips. He makes a face at the aftertaste and loads up his brush with more paint while he’s listening with half an ear as Tony pokes Clint with his screwdriver, because he’s sitting with his ass on Tony’s desk while he’s fletching arrows. They bricker and complain like an old married couple. Clint pokes Tony in the armpit with the back of the arrow he's currently holding and the inventor complains endlessly as he throws a balled up, stained paper towel at his head in response. Because they're mature adults like that.

The two of them are a oddly perfect combination, and Steve (amongst other people) spent the longest time wondering if they would end up throwing hands or proposing marriage to each other by the end of the day - it is a pretty even tie most of the time.

There are backup protocols in place just in case they team up and go rogue together. That fact alone should be terrifying because Tony and Clint left to their own devices mean chaos and fiery destruction on a good day and it still baffles everyone how these two managed to actually start a healthy and loving relationship with each other. It’s hard to believe some days, especially when another screwdriver gets chucked through the air as they bricker on.

Steve doesn’t react to it, taking another sip of coffee - it makes him cringe again.

"Coffee tastes odd today." he muses, concentrating on another small and detailed part of his painting. It takes his mind off of things. Things like his growing not-so-casual-anymore feelings for Natasha which is really not something he wants to think about right now, hence why he's hanging out down here.

"Excuse you, my coffee is fucking great." Hawkeye grouches good naturedly from his spot on the desk, putting a feather on the shaft of his arrow in place without looking up.

Steve just shrugs, keeps drinking. It just gets worse and worse as time goes on and he says as much.

Tony turns, one eyebrow raised at him and then he bursts out laughing.

"Steve you giant baffoon, stop drinking the paint water."

"Wait, what?! “ he looks down into his mug. The coffee now looks suspiciously purple while the mug with the water and his paint brushes looks much, much cleaner. He sighs heavily.

"Goddammit."

"You have a purple mustache." Clint supplies helpfully and Steve runs a hand down his face.

"Great, that's just what I wanted to wear today."

"Impeccable taste as always."

Steve furiously wipes at his face with the corner of his shirt. But there is no pretense left at this point, anyway.

“Seriously tho, what’s up with you today? You’re not usually that much of a dork.”

“Thanks very much.” He quips back and then stops for a moment. After a beat of silence, he actually starts talking about the issue on his mind - Clint listens as he starts carving wood for another arrow, and nods along to what Steve is telling him. He’s Natashas best friend after all, so it’s not like he wouldn’t know. Everyone knows, if he’s honest. But he still keeps rambling on.

“Go talk to her. It’ll be fine.” is what Clint finally answers and yeah, if only it was that easy, Steve thinks. Or says out loud, because his mouth keeps lamenting without his permission, which is great.

“Talk to her.” Is all that Clint says, and he repeats himself three or four more times, interrupting Steve’s increasingly flustered rambling every single time. After that, Tony chimes in.

“Hey Steve, I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

Tony looks up with a flat look. “Go talk to her.”

“Why am I even talking to you?”

“We’re charming and sparkling company.”

“Nah, that can’t be it.”

“Seriously, go talk to her. This is between her and you, we can’t solve shit.”

Steve is annoyed because they’re right. But then, Tony looks down on whatever the hell he’s working on and says,

“Oh. Oops.”

That sends Clint scrambling off of the table, because “Oh. Oops.” is the very last thing you want to hear Tony Stark say in the labs. Ever.

Clint is grabbing Tony to pull him with him as he puts as much distance as possible between them and the table and Steve launches forward to put himself in between his friends and the small-ish explosion that occurs seconds later.

The three of them remain mostly unharmed, a bit of scorched hair and damaged pride to be pulled by the scruff like a naughty kitten aside.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Once again, Steve sighs heavily. He does that a lot around here.

“Steve?”

“Yes.”

“Talk to her.”

He glares, because once again, he’s annoyed that they’re right about this.

Goddamnit.

*+~

“Stop thinking so hard.” Natasha complains at night. She’s wrapped around him, comfortable and content, running one hand over his shoulder. If Steve had been under the impression it’s gone unnoticed, well, he’s dead wrong about that.

He’s about to say something stupid like “I’m not” or “I have no idea what you’re talking about” but this is Natasha, and she always notices. So the words that are actually coming out of his mouth are

“What are we?” he stops for a second before he continues. “I’m sorry, it’s just, we never really discussed any specifics and, well…” Steve can feel his face heating up. Way to go, Rogers.

Natasha hums in response, pushing herself away from him a little bit. Not much, just enough so they can look each other in the eye. She also keeps her hand on his arm when she answers, rubbing small circles with her thumb.

“We can be whatever we want. If you’d prefer to keep this casual, that’s okay with me. But if you’d like this to be more… Because I’d like that.”

She’s open with him, not hiding, not a single mask or distraction in place. Her green eyes are no longer sleepy, but they’re sparkling and beautiful and Steve could get lost in them. Her answer takes him by surprise, and so does her small smile at his facial expression that obviously gives him away. But he smiles back, and simply replies,

“Yes, I would like that very much.” Then, he asks, “Is it okay when I kiss you?” because while they’ve done much more than that before, it feels like this would still make it very much different.

Instead of answering, Natasha crosses the distance herself.

They hold onto each other, almost melting into each other. They stop kissing to catch some breath, and Steve gently tucks a lose strand of hair behind Natashas ear, keeping his hand there to slowly stroke her red curls. Both of them are probably smiling a sappy smile that no one else can see and when they finally fall asleep that night, they do so with a silent happiness about them.

In the morning, Steve wakes up to icy feet on his back once again. This time tho, he thinks he might as well get used to that, too, although it doesn’t stop him from complaining. It doesn’t stop Natasha from laughing and snuggling closer, either, so it's all good.

*+~

Prompt No. 58 – "Urgh. Your feet are cold" – "Yup, and you're warm."

#banashee writes #marvel fanfiction #romanogers #ironhawk

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marvel-writer · 4 years

Text

Saving Carter Stone. ~ An OC!Marvel Story. [The Prologue]

Pairing: A Tony Stark Origin / Steve Rogers story. Oc!Character-Tony Stark.

Time Set: 2020, AU. Everything happened up until Infinity war however. Just without Tony and Natasha dying, and Steve is still him.

Summary/Notes: Carter Stone was a daughter figure to Tony Stark back during the year of when Iron man first became to in 2010 (MCU time). She was born in 1998, making her just 12 at the time. She then was around for the Battle of New York in 2012 at the Age of 14. And left right after Tony and his traumatic experience in 2013 at the age of 15. Her parents were murdered later that year and she was taken in after being in the foster agency at the age of 16 in 2014, she is now 22 in the year of 2020.

(The summary will be different when the first chapter is published, I understand that Infinity war/end game takes place during the years of 2018-2023. However none of that sad crap exists here. So take the fact of Spiderman: Homecoming is technically the last ideal story line. )

Word Count:

Abbreviations: None.

Warnings: Maybe some death, and Sadness if that.

------------------------------------------------------

Carter was born in Savannah, Georgia. To Elaine West and Thomas Stone. She was the only child of the married couple, who oddly enough were into technology more than anything else.

Both of Carters’ parents had began working for Stark Industries after they relocated to New York from Georgia, it wasn’t until roughly three months of working there that Carter met Tony. It was because a babysitter cancelled last minute and her parents had no choice but to take her to the office that day.

Carter had been taken under the wing of Tony Stark himself after a few weeks of Tony warming up to the idea of a child being around him. The two spent time together, She met the other members of the Avengers little by little.

One day, as Tony showed Carter a experiment. He had gotten injured in the process of demonstrating it to the young female. Carter freaked, although he implied he was fine, the cut across his leg deemed otherwise.

She had put pressure on it, waiting for help from the staff. A green light motioned from her hands as the wound disappeared from Tony’s leg. That’s when she discovered her powers for healing, as well as finding out she had the abilities to control all forces of mother nature.

When her parents worked, which was all the time nearly. She spent it with Tony, learning about him and his company. Understanding Technology and her own powers. She usually called Tony “Starkko” . Tony would help her a lot, which made him a father figure in her eyes.

However, When her parents had to relocate, they had moved from New York to Malibu for a special project for Stark Towers things had been different. Then the worst happened, when Hydra agents had came for info. Carter was his in a secret compartment in the back of her parents closet. She heard a bickering fight, and then two gun shots.

Her parents were killed, and she went into foster care. Tony wasn’t truly able to find information on her since she went into the system. Of course you would think he had that power of technology to find her. However with her being so young at the time, H.Y.D.R.A. had taken over. Without her knowing who actually killed her parents – a Hydra agent had taken her in and shown her false video of how it was Stark industries workers' instead.

And since had been taken in by H.Y.D.R.A. she has trained from the age of 17-22, the last five years she has been wanting to destroy anything to do with Tony Stark. She was going to get her revenge on him, and nothing would get in her way.

___________________________________________

~ A small entrance prologue. ~

___________________________________________

Carter took a deep breath, her long black hair was braided to the side. One strand specifically pulled out on each side of her face as she loaded her guns and crossbow. After all those years of training, she was apart of a mission to lead Hydra agents into the Stark Tower to retrieve a Flash Drive that had some old blue prints and plans for Tony's weapon industry he had before dropping that path of life.

The plan was simple, disable the back-up power generator, cut the main supply of power, then finally use the night vision goggles to collect the Flash Drive and get the hell out of Dodge.

The other members of the team took care of the generator and cutting the power, as Carter quickly swept the perimeter with four other agents.

She opened the safe and began making her exit through the main hall of the compound. That was when the Avengers came in, the two groups beginning to fight before Carter noticed the Avenger who Tony seemed to have a soft spot for, she quickly used a stun charge on Spider-Man, pulling him to her as she shot her weapon up twice in the air before pressing the end of the barrel to his head.

“One more move and this kid isn’t going to live to see his wedding day, now tell your Avengers to Stand down Starkko.” Carter spat, her eyes scanning the room.

Tony froze, he hadn’t heard that nickname in over seven years. “Carter?” Tony questioned in shock and pure confusion as his face mask had retracted from his face.

Carter knew it was a high risk, yet she had to get away with that flash drive. So she had laughed softly, taking her goggles and facemask off.

“Miss me?” Carter snarled, the two locking eyes as the teams had looked among themselves.

___________________________________________

Hi! I'm hoping this intrigued you, I'm still working on this story nonetheless! It's my first ever Marvel OC story, I can't wait to see where it takes us.

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america #iron man x reader #iron man #iron man imagine #marvel imagine #marvel series #marvel story #marvel #marvel x oc #tony stark x oc #steve rogers x oc

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horseluvr00-ff · 4 years

Text

A Place to Call Home | Chapter 17

Masterlist Here

Rating: T+

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/family | kidnapping, violence, strong language.

Story summary: It’s been a few months since the Battle of New York. Steve Rogers is acclimating to life when he crosses paths with teenager Katelyn Sanders, a SHIELD recruit and highly valued asset with a dark past. Follow Kate’s adventure from SHIELD asset to Avenger to wanted fugitive over the course of her youth and into adulthood with her Avenging family. Follows Infinity Saga and beyond.

Words: 9,460

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Marvel/Disney. My OC Katelyn Sanders, as well as a few other unaffiliated things within this fanfic are of my own creation.

Author Note: Chapters usually average between 6k-8k words, but range from 4k to 10k. Relogs are welcome :) Please no plagiarism or reposts on other platforms. Updates occur weekly on Fridays, however posts on Tumblr usually occur Saturdays.

Full story available on FanFiction.net and A03 here and here

Chapter 17 can be found here and here in full. Go here to the full prologue tumblr post… So many options.

Check out a portion of Chapter 17 below:

"Did she- say anything else?" Steve questions, his hands loosely gripping the edge of the counter top as he meets Natasha's eyes. "Who or-..."

"Not exactly," Natasha gives a gentle shrug, her eyes on the papers Steve had brought back the night before.

Both Clint and Natasha had to finish up the reports for the same mission, however they had the leeway to complete them outside of SHIELD bases if they wanted to; a sort of work at home situation. They were on temporary leave so catching up on field reports of all kinds was common.

"She didn't seem…" Natasha trails off, her brow knitting as her eyes dot to the side, coffee mug now in hand. "It seemed like an excuse,"

"An excuse?" Steve repeats, his own brow already knit as his eyes fall, tone changing at Natasha's subtle accusation.

"I'm not saying she's lying, Steve. I'm just insinuating there may be more to the story she's not willing to tell us, or maybe she's just not sure and doesn't want us getting frustrated with her." She looks up to meet her friend's eyes before giving a small shrug. "It could be any number of things,"

Steve nods after a couple seconds, turning his own gaze down briefly.

"So have you talked to her yet?" Natasha asks slowly, a hint of curiosity in her voice as she raises an eyebrow.

Steve's eyes hesitantly meet hers, seeing the little flicker of amusement in her expression, said fact only causing Steve to sigh seconds later and shake his head.

Steve hadn't spoken to Kate yet that morning. Not that he was avoiding it… No it wasn't that. Bruce always woke up and headed down to the lab to check on Kate. They'd go over their now-developed morning routine, check her injury, and then they'd both head up to the communal area at some point. Something that would probably happen soon, however with Steve about to leave for his run, chances were he'd just miss them.

"I haven't," Steve further clarifies after the head shake he gave.

"You probably should," Natasha tilts her head gently, eyes having returned to the file in front of her. "Maybe don't confront last night's conversation, but- just say good morning," She chuckles.

Steve nods quickly, his eyes turning around the communal floor for something to look at before he finds his eyes returning to the counter where Nat was.

"Who told you?" Steve mumbles in question.

"Tony," The red head shrugs, her eyes not leaving the papers in front of her. "He was down here earlier, spreading the gossip,"

"Of course he was," Steve nods to himself, lowering one hand away from the counter to the waistline of his running pants.

Natasha's eyes turn up from the papers and towards Steve after a couple seconds, her eye line shooting down a moment later as she thinks over her next statement.

"She was pretty comfortable with us yesterday," Nat speaks up, sliding her mug a few inches away before settling her forearms on the counter.

Steve looks up, his brow knit gently by nature as he meets his friend's eyes.

"Clint and I," Natasha elaborates, gesturing forward with a hand. "She's warming up. Slowly, but… We're making progress." She smiles.

Steve nods, his eyes turning away.

"Good," Steve responds, his tone gentle as his thoughts turn elsewhere.

With SHIELD knowing Kate was with them, there was no telling when they'd make their move. He didn't tell Fury outright that they had her, but the Director wasn't stupid. And Steve was a little cocky… So they knew alright. If they came to apprehend her, he didn't want to think about how something like that might play out.

"Who else knows?" Steve asks, meeting the red head's eyes as she lifts her gaze. "About what Kate told you,"

"Uh, just you," Natasha shrugs gently. "Tony and Bruce don't necessarily need to know, although we can all talk about it. It is a SHIELD matter after all," Her voice turns a bit muffled as she raises her coffee mug to her lips.

"She's a SHIELD matter," Steve mumbles quietly, his eyes unfocused on the counter.

Natasha lowers the mug after taking a sip of the beverage and gives a small nod.

"I suppose you're correct," She nods and gives a small smile before her eyes return to the file.

The Captain lets his eyes roam around the island countertop before he glances back towards the elevator.

"Alright," He breathes, pushing off the surface lightly. "I'm gonna head out,"

At the announcement Natasha looks up from the file once more and gives a gentle nod, mindful not to bring up the fact that Steve indeed was trying to leave before Kate showed up on the communal floor for breakfast. As he walks for the stairwell, Natasha glances down and then back up quickly.

"I was wondering if you'd be alright with me taking her out today," Natasha calls over.

Steve comes to a stop, looking over his shoulder at his teammate before his brow knits.

"Where?" Steve questions, a little taken aback by her offer.

"Shopping," Natasha gives a gentle shrug, meeting her friend's eyes. "She needs some of her own clothes. I figured we could do a little window shopping, chat…" She trails off, waiting to see how he'd respond.

Steve clenches his jaw after a moment and glances down briefly.

He wasn't necessarily wary of Natasha spending alone time with Kate. He was happy she was offering to take her out. However Natasha was the one most against this whole situation. She was concerned for the safety of everyone, rightfully so, which Steve couldn't blame her for.

"... Okay," Steve nods. "Yeah I don't mind. Just make sure she's up for it,"

"I won't drag her out if she's uncomfortable," Natasha shakes her head with amusement, noticing how Steve was a little nervous at her offer. "She was pretty uncomfortable being outside yesterday. I think some exposure under supervision would be good for her," Natasha explains, her gentle tone causing Steve to breathe out quietly before nodding.

"Alright. Yeah I think that'd be good. Sorry," Steve shakes his head, taking a couple steps closer to the stairwell door.

"It's alright," Natasha chuckles, finding more amusement out of his initial reaction than offense.

He was protective of her. That was clear to the whole team from day one that this kid became relevant in Steve's life.

Steve nods to himself before exiting the communal area, jogging down the stairs.

Natasha listens as the stairwell door closes before she smiles lightly to herself and goes back to the paperwork on the counter.

Almost completely opposite in nature to herself, Steve was oddly enough, fun to be around; a sort of breath of fresh air despite his old fashioned ways. He had a certain trust for authority like SHIELD… that is until he found this child. Now he was realizing the gray nature of the world today. However there was still a certain light about him. He was different from say Clint or Tony. Guess it was the morale of his time that he brought with him. Whatever it was, Natasha found it amusing at times.

Flipping the file closed, Natasha takes a small sip of her coffee before sliding off of the stool, mug in hand and file in the other as she heads for the elevator to get ready for the day.

The rest of chapter 17 can be found here on FFN and here on AO3. Take a peak to keep reading!

Stay healthy, stay safe, sending lots of love. <3

Masterlist Here

#avengers fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfic #Steve Rogers #avengers family #Captain Amerca #female oc #oc teenager #marvel #natasha romanoff #Black Widow #bruce banner #hulk #clint barton #hawkeye #tony stark #iron man #shield

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