#he's this close to just hiding tony's blood fridge and offering himself up on a platter literally

[starker-sorbet]

Tony was used to how humans reacted around him when he displayed what he was. Despite the fact supernatural creatures had lived alongside humans for centuries now instinct just couldn't be helped when it came vampires. They were predators after all. The thing is even though he's really young for a vampire (he hasn't even stopped aging yet) Tony had figured out all the reactions he would usually get. Humans were consistent creatures after all. Which is why his new roommate's reactions were so confusing. He never tried to make excuses to not be around Tony when ever he had to fed. Hell he often seemed to deliberately try and stay in their room whenever Tony went to get a blood bag from his fridge. Peter was just a conundrum to Tony. Peter's heart rate went up whenever he showed his vampiric nature, like any humans, but what else goes on with him just doesn't make sense to Tony. Pete seemed to blush at the merest hint of fang and bit his lip whenever Tony needed to use his vampiric strength. If he didn't know better he'd swear that Peter was getting aroused by him. But that wasn't right humans couldn't get over vampire being their predators. Couldn't they?

Modern fantasy au with vampire!Tony used to scaring humans meeting human peter who's attracted to him for anon

#starker #modern fantasy au #vampire tony #human peter #college au #also going for a born vampire not turned tony #peter in the background desperately trying to seduce his cute vampire roommate #he's this close to just hiding tony's blood fridge and offering himself up on a platter literally #young tony #same age au #moodboard #my moodboard #request #anon

[just-dreaming-marvel]

The Proposals

MAIN MASTERLIST

bucky barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,325ish

Summary: Bucky tries to propose to you, but nothing ever works.

Bucky knew on the second date, that he was going to marry you. But he also knew, that it would freak you out that if on date three, he asked you to marry him. So he waited. But a man in love could only wait so long. By the time you and him had been dating for seven months, Bucky couldn’t wait any longer. He dragged Steve and Sam to jewelry stores across New York, in search of the perfect ring.

After losing hope for the perfect ring, Tony offered to design one. For free. Bucky struggled with Tony’s offer, but eventually gave in once Tony and Steve showed him the sketches and mock ups they’d put together. Wanda and Natasha helped put everything together when the night came. There were lights strung up everywhere on top of the compound, a small table was set up for the two to enjoy dinner, and Bucky and ordered your favorite meal. Bucky had been nervous all day, he got dressed in his best suit hours before you two were scheduled for your date.

You were suppose to be coming home from a long Avengers business trip tonight. You had been going to different countries, advocating for the Avengers Initiative. Bucky and you talked everyday, but that was not enough for either of you. You were currently on your way back to the compound, flying on a quinjet from London. Exhausted, you decided to put the quinjet into autopilot and get a few moments of sleep before your date with Bucky tonight. The blissful thought of sleep soon was far away when a call came in from Fury.

“I have an emergency assignment for you,” he stated.

“Sir, I’m just coming off a long assignment,” you explained. “All I want to do is see my boyfriend and sleep.”

“You’re the closest to the emergency. I’ve already got your quinjet rerouting to the location and the information of the mission is being sent to you.”

“But—“

“And I have Rogers in charge of telling Barnes that you won’t make it. Good luck.”

You sighed, running a hand down your face before getting up and changing into your hero gear. All you longed for is a lazy night with Bucky but, as you skimmed through the information Fury sent, that seemed to be a few more days away.

Steve, on the other hand, was trying to pawn Fury’s assignment off on anyone else on the team. No one would take it. They were all hiding in the lab, trying to get someone to go up to the roof and tell Bucky the news. They had all witnessed his nervousness all day, and were even subject to some aggression from it. So they were all a little scared for their lives when it came to telling him that you wouldn’t be home for a few more days. Eventually, when the time came that you were suppose to be arriving home, Sam gave in and sat that he’d do it, as long as everyone else came as back up. They all agreed and headed up to the roof.

Bucky was pacing like crazy when they arrived. Tony had to suppress the urge to make a comment about wearing through the roof the closer they got.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve called. He had really tried to control his tone, but his best friend was an assassin. There was no hiding from him.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky quickly asked, fear taking over his whole figure. “Did something happen? Please tell me that Y/N’s okay.”

“She’s okay, Barnes,” Sam stepped forward. “She just won’t be able to make it tonight.”

Bucky’s face fell. “What? Why?”

“Fury called her in on another assignment. Looks like she won’t be able to come home for another couple of days.”

The team all flinched as Bucky’s metal hand hit the table, making the objects on it go flying. They all took a step back as they watched the anger in him grow. He suddenly flipped the table over before stomping to the roof stairs. The rest of the team stood their watching, feeling bad for him. They all knew that Bucky was nervous about this and that it was hard for the man to be open like this, but there was nothing that could have been done.

Bucky was moody the rest of the days you were gone. No one could stand to be around him, mostly because they were a kind of afraid for their lives. When he wasn’t taking his feelings out in the training room, he was locked away in your shared bedroom. Four days after the planned proposal, you stumbled out of the quinjet. The mission had not been as easy as Fury made it out to be. You were successful, but you were now more exhausted than you ever thought possible, had a bleeding cut down your leg, and you were pretty sure your ankle was sprained.

Everyone was there waiting for you in the hanger and were not happy to see your condition as you stumbled from the quinjet. Bucky was the least amount of happy about your condition. Anger was again his best friend. But the more he watched you move closer to him, the more worried he became. Bucky rushed over, immediately sweeping you up into his arms, bridal style.

“Oh, doll,” he whispered, his eyes worriedly raking over your wounds.

“I’m fine, Buck,” you said quietly, clearly worn out. “Just tired.”

“Let’s get you to the med bay.”

The proposal was long forgotten in the midst of taking care of you. Yes, Bucky wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. But it was more important right now that you get healed. You were ordered off your leg for at least a month. Not making you very happy, but Bucky was. That meant that you were kept safe from harm and he could take care of you whenever he wasn’t away on missions.

Both Natasha and Wanda pushed Bucky to try and propose several times while you were benched and he was taking care of you. But nothing ever worked. He’d get called away on a last minute mission or you’d be too exhausted from physical therapy to do anything. He tried 4 times during the time you were benched, nothing worked. And Bucky was getting frustrated.

After about two and a half months, you were given the clearance to train and put weight on the leg again. And Bucky went back to planning another proposal. He knew he didn’t want to do the same thing he had planned to the last time, bad luck and all. So this time, he was going simpler. He planned a movie night, just the two of you. Bucky bought all your favorite treats and your favorite pizza. The only thing he forgot to mention, apparently, was the fact that it was a date. He was getting everything set up when you walked in with Tony, Bruce, and Sam.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled, coming up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Theses guys told me that they were bored tonight. So I invited them to our moving night. Is that okay?”

Bucky’s hands clenched into fists as he looked at the men behind him. He immediately reprimanded himself for not letting the team in on his plan. When his eyes came down to look at you, he was met with your best puppy dog face and he could never say no to that.

“Sure,” he grumbled. “Why not.”

“Thank, babe!” You gave him a peck on the lips before helping the others get settled.

The rest of the night, Bucky was constantly crumpling things in his hands while he felt like the small box in his pocket was burning a hole into thigh. You were too engrossed in the movie and talking to Tony to notice Bucky’s irritation. But Sam did, and simply just smirked at the man.

When the others had left and Bucky and you had started cleaning up, you began to notice his mood by his silence and way he was throwing things away.

“What’s wrong, babe?” You asked, folding up a blanket.

“Nothing,” Bucky answered, far too quickly.

“Are you sure?” You moved to stand in front of him, curling your arms around his waist. “Did Tony say something to upset you, or Sam even?”

“None of them said anything. I’m fine.” He pushed away from you, moving into the kitchen with the trash.

“I don’t believe you.” You followed him closely. “Why won’t you tell me the truth?”

“I am!” Bucky yelled, turning sharply to face you.

You jumped back, taken back by his reaction. Bucky had never raised his voice at you, ever. Tears pricked your eyes as you tried to calm your racing heart. Bucky’s anger slowly faded, being replaced by guilt as he watched you shrink into yourself.

“Doll, I—“ He went to apologize and reach out for you but you took another step back.

“I don’t know what happened tonight to make you mad,” your voice quivered as you spoke, “but that reaction was not okay.”

“I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to shout.”

“Yet you did.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m going to go sleep somewhere else tonight. Let you calm down.”

“No,” Bucky frantically shook his head. “Please, don’t.” He tried to reach for you again, but you walked away.

“Some sleep might do you some good, Buck. We’ll talk in the morning.”

And then you were gone. Bucky fell back against the fridge and slid down it, head buried in his hands. He’d really done it now. You were never going to accept his proposal now.

You spent the night in Natasha’s bed, since she was away on a mission. Though, you didn’t get much sleep. You never did when you weren’t with Bucky, and same with him. And it clearly showed on the both of you in the morning. Dark bags under the eyes, slow movements, blood shot eyes, and solemn expressions. To the rest of the team, it was clear that something happened last night. They were just all too scared to ask what.

Bucky spent most of the next day in the training room, taking out his aggression, while you spent most of the day in your and Bucky’s shared space in the compound. You were trying to rack your mind around why Bucky had been acting so ornery lately. You were in your room when Steve called you in for a mission. It was going to be a smaller mission with just you and Steve. You were getting ready when Bucky walked into the room.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Bucky stated.

Those words cause your heart to crack a little. Those were never good to hear. “Yes, Buck?” You replied, still getting ready while trying to keep yourself together.

“There’s something that’s been on my mind lately and I— wait. Where are you going?”

“Steve’s asked me to join him on a mission.”

“Already? I know you were approved, but are you sure? I’m worried that you—“

“Well you don’t need to be. I’ll be fine.” You flung your backpack over shoulder. “Will you be?”

“Will I be?”

“You’ve been acting strange lately. And then you come in saying that we need to talk… Bucky…” You sighed. “Did you come in to break up with me?”

“Break up with you? No!” He shook his head. “I would never.”

“Then what’s going on? You’ve been so aggravated lately and yesterday… well… you’ve never shouted at me like that before… it honestly hurt.”

“Baby…” He walked up to you, setting a gentle hand on your cheek. “I’m so sorry about last night. I just… I’ve been trying to…” His hand fell down to his side with a sigh. “I was going to propose,” he mumbled.

“What?” Your jaw dropped.

“And it hasn’t been the first time I tried… I’m sorry for taking it out on you. I was just so frustrated that none of my plans have worked.”

“Y-you…. You’ve been trying to propose? For how long?”

“My first attempt was when you were suppose to come home after your long business trip. But then Fury sent you on a mission and you came home injured… I tried multiple other times, but then I was called away or you were too tired. Then last night, that’s why I ordered your favorite pizza and snacks. I just wanted it to be you and me and—”

“And then I invited the boys. Oh, Buck.” You engulfed him in a hug. “I’m so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”

“I would always forgive you.”

You and Bucky let your lips meet for a kiss. Upon parting, you decided to be brave.

“So,” you whispered, “are you going to ask me?”

Bucky quickly retrieved the small box from his pocket and opened it as he got down on one knee. “Y/N L/N, I love you will everything I have. I can’t picture my life without you. Will you—“

“Hey, Y/N,” Steve called, barging into the room. “Are you— woah.” He froze, studying the situation in front of him. “Am I interrupting something?”

Bucky groaned, allowing his head to fall against your stomach. You laughed as you set your hands on Bucky’s head.

“You think?” You giggled.

“I’m just gonna— yeah,” Steve rushed as he ran out.

“Is he gone?” Bucky said into your stomach.

“He’s gone. Now hurry before the team shows up.”

He leaned back into his original position. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Hallelujah,” Bucky muttered as he slipped the ring on your finger.

“Hurry up and kiss me so that we can escape before we’re never left alone again.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter solider imagine #the winter solider x reader #winter solider x reader #winter solider imagine

[barnesandco]

Plzplzplzzzzz can you write a buckyxdeaf reader imagine, I just got my hearing aids after being diagnosed as moderate deaf a few months ago and there’s not enough of them imagines!!🥺 where reader gets her hearing aids or gets insecure about her deafness

Relearning

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: One very short allusion to the Winter Soldier. Insecurities about disabilities. Brief mention of a supporting character’s nightmares.

A/N: Thank you again for thinking of me for this request, nonny. I hope I was able to provide what you wanted. 

They day they arrive, your face falls like a confirmation of your worst anticipations. Hearing aids, as small and inconspicuous as possible, hidden if you close the fist you hold then in, lie on your palm, unassuming. Bucky's the only one who reads the tension in the hard way you've set you shoulders, and makes some indications to Steve that he picks up on immediately and clears out the common area. Nobody was staring in the first place -- only Tony had come up to the two of you at the chess table with the case in hand -- but Bucky knows you need your space, your time. He doesn't expect you to seek that distance away from him, too.

When the area is empty, you sit with Bucky's hand over one tightly clenched fist laid on the table, almost drawing blood, the other shaking furiously. He rises from his side to make his way to you, and you stand, too. But before he can get to you, you leave. Hearing aids in hand and tears barely held back, while Bucky feels as helpless as he ever has.

-----

Going back to his room, he thinks of when it all began. The explosion in Belarus a year ago, just before he could work up the courage to ask you out. The blast impaired your hearing and you started lip reading, made sure nobody approached you from behind. Refused to let Bucky learn sign language for your sake because you were convinced it would get better soon, even though he knew you were learning it yourself. Only, it didn’t, and the doctor’s appointments reinforced that idea, wrote it in concrete, and you tried to live with it regardless.

Naturally, you had to relent to medical opinion at some point, and you underwent further testing and Tony starting working on your hearing aids alongside a biomedical engineer from MIT named Hailey. This was the destination, and he suspected it would be hard to come to terms with, but he wished he had prepared for it better. If only he knew what to do.

-----

It takes you a full day to leave your room. The only reason Bucky doesn't break down your door is because Friday told him you're still eating.

When you emerge, it is a Saturday morning. Exercise hour. The morning is golden and yellow-green against the backdrop of the grounds the Sun has just risen over. Summer has sunk deep enough into early May's bones that the temperature is lukewarm.

He's hidden in the breakfast nook in the kitchen wearing ridiculous sheep patterned sweatpants -- Wanda's idea of a gag gift -- having opted out of the gym in hopes that you might reappear, and you do. Eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, ethereal radiance dimmed but he accepts you to be the most wondrous person he knows even now.

Especially now, when you are hopefully able to utilize the sense that used to be impaired. The hearing aids look unusual on you, but only the way in which new things do. Something you do not recognize but are prepared to learn.

He watches you ready your breakfast. A couple of Wanda's blueberry muffins and jasmine tea. You love tea and he loves you. The crinkle in your nose, that he has missed so, as you wait for the water to boil. An itch behind your ear -- a new gesture, but just as endearing -- while the kettle simmers and hisses.

Still unaware of his presence, with your eyes focused elsewhere and ears not quite tuned to their aids, you sit at the kitchen island facing the window, the grass lawns, the fresh air seeping in through the opening. He watches you relish the morning on your face, your closed eyes and the curve of your lips loose and relaxed instead of in a frown like he last saw it. The moment is as still as ice, your forms frozen in glacier time, and Bucky, for all his hatred of the cold, would gladly stay in it if you'll let him be this close to you.

His own limbs release the stress in his shoulders slowly, springs unwinding in his marrow with creaks audible to his mind, and he  breathes a little slower, more naturally, more at ease now that you are here. His life vein, his gentle love.

The muffins are consumed slowly, your tongue peeking out to lick the last of their taste from your lips, the way Wanda's baking deserves to be savored. You nurse your tea in your hands for a long time, trying to take all the heat you can through the porcelain. Your fingers are always cold, Bucky knows. He has had too many tangled-bedsheet mornings, with your hands offering enough weight for him to feel but never enough for his skin to warm yours.

For a second, in between one rustle of the leaves in the border trees and the next, he forgets where he is, and loses himself in the memory of pressing your hands to his neck, letting you warm yourself by his collarbone and relishing in the hot goosebumps elicited by the movement of your hands down his abdomen.

But then you put your mug in the sink, and on instinct, Bucky rises and calls your name. Loud enough that he knows you'll hear him, but soft enough not to startle you. Everything is a delicate balance with you, a see-saw he is more than happy to keep in the air for you.

You're surprised to see him there, and you start to turn away, but Bucky speaks again.

"Please. Please, honey. Don't turn away," he pleads to your crestfallen expression, heart tearing at the seams. You need to understand that he is not going to give up on you for this, just like you've never turned away his metal arm.

Your hoarse voice, tired and sad in equal measure, says "Sorry." And you leave, again.

-----

Bucky does the only thing he can think of. He goes to Clint. The archer’s Bed-Stuy apartment emits sounds of vacuum cleaning and Bucky rings the bell twice before calling him. His phone bell is paired with his hearing aids, so he answers quickly, and lets Bucky in.

“You’re... cleaning,” Bucky states in a questioning voice, looking around at the apartment he has never seen in such a clean condition previously.

Clint clears his throat uncomfortably as he heads to the kitchen. “Yeah, Nat wanted to stay over for a bit and you know her...” he says with his face in the fridge, rummaging for Coca Cola, and indeed, Bucky does know. He knows of her clean-freak tendencies and the spate of nightmares she’s been having that might induce her to seek Clint’s comfort from the new, bad memories a mission in Moscow last month dredged up.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Clint asks pleasantly, forcing away the sympathetic sorrow in both of their minds.

Bucky blanches. He isn’t here for pleasantries, but he’s sure Clint will understand. “Could you teach me sign language?” Bucky asks back, and watches Clint consider the question. Clint knows about the recent arrival of your hearing aids, and your consequent insecurities. 

“Of course,” is the answer, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Looks forward to learning something new. Something to bring him closer to you again.

-----

Bucky spends a month with his heart aching whenever you pass by him, thankfully no longer hiding away but still refusing to let him in, and he tries to invest his energy into showing you he loves you still, loves you always, and he does not think any lesser of you. 

Clint is patient. It takes Bucky’s hands a while to get used to the smooth, elegant flow of fingers to fist, to shape, to mold into meaning because he is so used to using his words. All that time with the mask has made him grateful for every letter he gets the chance to utter, but he will gladly give it up for you. If this sacred tongue that involves no tongue at all, that relays meaning through the extension of his forefinger, thumb and pinky from a fist -- love -- and the hand over his face -- beautiful -- and two peace signs joined at the top -- partner -- is what it takes to be yours, he’ll practise till you smile again.

-----

It takes another month for you to sit across from him at the chess table he has been waiting at since your hearing aids arrive. You hesitate by your chair. Bucky lifts his hands.¨

Flat right hand over the center of his chest. Clockwise arc. Please.

Thank you. Your fingers go from touching your lips to bringing your hand forth in a flat palm in front of him. Once you’ve sat down, Bucky rolls out the chess pieces, and you set them up.

Bucky watches you with scared scrutiny, praying for no wrong moves. Once the pieces are set up, you make your move, and then wait for Bucky. I love you, he signs, while the hubbub of the common area falls away. The world is silent save for the screaming brightness of your face. His only melody. His quiet choir. His silent muse.

I love you, too, you sign, and reach across the table to take his hand. Your smile is shaking, like it’s holding the weight of worlds, and Bucky takes the burdens away, leaning across to kiss your lips. The moment is a bubble of wonder, of marvellous adoration, where the air holds its breath. Your hands find Bucky’s hair as his come up to cradle your jaw gently. A metal finger traces over a hearing aid while his thumb strokes over your cheekbone. Stronger smiles form against each other’s lips. This is what home feels like. 

#ayesha writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

[whumphoarder]

⭐️?

You Broke Tony was originally going to be told from Peter’s POV instead of Tony’s, but I decided to change it so that we see more of Tony’s confusion and less of Peter’s anxiety, giving it a more lighthearted feel.

If you’re interested, I still have the original draft from Peter’s POV:

“Hey FRIDAY?” Peter called out tentatively as he limped into the entryway of the building. He was hesitant to move any further. “Is Mr. Stark home?”

Her voice answered immediately. “Yes, Peter. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark of your presence?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks.”

FRIDAY was silent for a moment and Peter assumed she was relaying the information. “Boss says he’s working on something in the lab but to let yourself in and that there are those pudding cups you like in the fridge. Butterscotch, since you’re 16 going on 80.”

“Oh, uh, tell him thanks. But I’m kinda… messy.” He looked down at the white marble he was currently staining crimson. Dizziness washed over him and he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. “Do you know if Mr. Stark has any old towels I can borrow? Ones that can get stained?”

“There is an ample supply of towels in the linen closet at the end of the hall, to the right of the first guest bathroom.”

“Oh.” Peter glanced down at his soaked Spider-Man suit, and then behind him at trail of sticky red footprints. “That’s really far away.”

“Do you require assistance, Peter?” the AI asked.

Peter wasn’t exactly known for taking people up on their offers of help, so his instinct was to say no, thanks, he would be fine. But realization was hitting that even if he could manage to limp to the linen closet on his throbbing ankle without incident, it would only make an even bigger mess. He figured he was in enough trouble as it was. “Um… maybe,” he admitted.

The AI was quiet a moment again before responding, “Mr. Hogan is on his way.”

Peter acknowledged the information with a grunt. The headache he’d had since being slammed into the store counter earlier was ramping up now. He wanted to lean against the wall, but he couldn’t bear the thought of messing up Mr. Stark’s pristine walls as well as his floor. He settled for carefully lowering himself down on the entryway floor and letting his head rest on his knees.

It was several minutes before Happy stepped out of the elevator, carrying two towels and looking pissed as always. “Not sure why you think I’m your butler now,” he grumbled as he approached, “but FRIDAY said you needed…” Happy’s eyes went wide and he froze midstep. “Aw, shit! What did you do?!” 

“Wha..?” Peter had started to doze off in the time he’d been waiting. He lifted his head and blinked at the gaping man. “Oh, hey Happy. How’s it going? Sorry about all this...” he rambled.

But Happy wasn’t listening. He closed the distance between himself and Peter quickly while ordering at the AI, “Tell Tony to get his ass up here ASAP. Code red—the kid’s in trouble.” Dropping the towels to his side, he bent down and grabbed Peter firmly by the shoulders.

Trouble -- the word rang in Peter’s aching head. The last time he was in trouble with Mr. Stark, he gotten his suit taken from him. Peter was panicking now. His head felt fuzzy and his words were coming out slightly slurred. “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I’ll clean it up, please don’t be mad!” He reached for a towel, but Happy swatted his hand away.

“Shut up and hold still, kid,” Happy barked. His hands were running over Peter’s body now, patting him down like he was searching for something, which Peter thought was strange. When he touched the lump on the back of Peter’s head, the kid let out a hiss.

“That hurts?” Happy questioned. “Did you hit your head?” 

Peter nodded. In a small voice, he asked, “Is Mr. Stark gonna be mad?”

“I’d say that’s a good possibility,” Happy replied curtly.

Peter hid his face back in his arms and moaned softly, internally cursing himself for coming to the tower in the first place. If not for this stupid headache, he was sure he could have figured out a better solution than involving Tony, but the day’s events had left him not exactly firing on all cylinders. 

Just then, Mr. Stark came bursting out of the elevator doors, still dressed in the grimy old jeans and T-shirt that he only wore in his workshop. “Jesus Christ, kid,” he swore. In a few quick strides, he was kneeling at Peter’s side, his eyes scanning Peter up and down. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter whimpered. “I’ll clean everything, I swear, I jus-”

“What. The hell. Happened.”

It was the same scarily calm voice that Tony had used on the ferry. All of sudden Peter was back on the dock, getting chewed out by the one person he looked up to most. “Th-There was a mugging,” he tried to explain. His throat felt tight and his eyes stung. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I tried to stop him but-”

“Where are you hurt?” Tony demanded. He pressed the spider insignia on the front of Peter’s suit and the fabric loosened around him.

Both Tony and Happy were working now to pull the suit off him, and all Peter could think was that Spider-Man was being taken from him again, right here in the lobby. He kept rambling, tears slipping out now, “I’m so sorry about the mess and the suit and-

Mr. Stark paused. “Hey, hey, look at me, kid.” Tony touched Peter’s chin and tilted it up to him. Peter blinked at him. The anger that he had expected to see in his mentor’s eyes wasn’t there. Instead, there was fear. “I don’t give a shit about the floor or the suit. I need to know where you’re hurt.”

Happy spoke up. “He’s got a head injury, but I don’t think that’s where the blood is coming from.”

“Then where is it coming from?” Tony shot back.

Peter frowned, confused. Blood? Was he bleeding? Looking down at himself, something finally clicked in the teenager’s addled brain and he realized why everyone was so upset.

“Guys, this isn’t my blood,” Peter said simply.

Both men stiffened immediately. “Whose is it?” Happy asked, looking horrified. 

Peter shook his head. “No, no, sorry! I mean it’s not anyone’s! It’s not real.” The adults looked unconvinced so Peter licked the arm of his suit, staining his tongue bright red. “See? It’s like colored corn syrup and glycerin or something.”

The two men relaxed, but only for a millisecond. 

Tony was the first back on the offensive. “Alright, we are backing the fuck up here. Then why in god’s name are you sitting on the floor of my lobby covered in fake blood? Because if this is some kind of prank…”

“Not a prank.” Peter closed his eyes and groaned softly. He took a deep breath. “I was on patrol. There was a mugging going on in the alley between Walgreens and… uh, you know those temporary stores that pop up around Halloween and sell costumes and decorations and stuff?”

“Yeah, go on,” Tony prompted.

“One of those,” Peter continued. “Anyway I tried to web the guy up but my web-shooter jammed and he got away and ran into the costume store. So I ran in after him but he had a gun and-“

“Did he shoot you?” Tony interrupted.

“Well, he tried but-”

Immediately, Tony started trying to pull the suit off again and find whatever injury Peter was hiding.

“No, no Mr. Stark, he missed!” Peter said quickly. “But when I jumped out of the way, I sorta crashed into this display shelf and knocked a bin over, which was full of these little plastic bags. And then I landed on them so some of them burst open...”

“Let me guess.” Tony sighed exasperatedly. “Fake blood.”

“It was everywhere,” Peter said miserably. “Kinda hit my head on the counter too…” He ran his fingers over the lump on his skull, wincing.

(A/N: You’ll note at this moment in that a wild Bruce appears. I do not know where he came from and he did not make it to later drafts of this story lmao)

Bruce frowned and tilted Peter’s chin up towards him. With the other hand, he held up a finger and traced sideways across the teenager’s line of sight. Peter tried to follow with his gaze, but it only made him feel dizzier. Bruce pulled a penlight from his chest pocket and shined it at the boy’s eyes.

“What’s the diagnosis, Doc?” Tony asked.

“I’ll preface this by reminding you I’m still not a medical doctor…” Bruce began. 

Tony waved his hand indicating he should go on.

“Pupils are blown, and he’s having a hard time tracking. I’m guessing mild to moderate concussion, but we should get him to Medbay and run a CT to be sure.”

Tony nodded. “FRIDAY, be sure to alert a real doctor of that and send someone up from medical with a stretcher.”

“Right away, sir,” the AI replied.

“Mr. Stark, I can walk-“

“Finish your story, Pete,” Tony cut him off.

Peter closed his eyes and obeyed. “The blood was all over and I think the guy thought he’d hit me because he started running back out. So I jumped up and webbed him — it worked this time. And then I webbed the gun up too and left them both for the cops.”

“What about your ankle?” Bruce questioned.

Peter blushed. “Oh. Uh, on my way out I sorta… slipped.” 

“You slipped?” Tony clarified.

Dropping his gaze to his feet, Peter muttered, “...On the blood.”

At this detail, Tony let out a snort of amusement. He quickly turned it into a cough though, as both Happy and Bruce shot him disapproving looks. “Sorry, kid,” he said through coughs. With a smirk, he added, “But you gotta admit that is a fantastic image.”

Peter only groaned in response.

I much prefer the vibe of the story from Tony’s POV, but Happy was fun to write in this and he sadly got the cut :(

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

#thanks for your ask! #ask meme #Anonymous

[thebuckybrigade]

AB Positive

It’s good PR Tony—do it for the company.

Tony stands outside the massive conference room that’s been turned into a temporary blood donation center, stomach churning.

Why don’t you do it Pep? You’re the CEO!

People inside are talking and laughing, eating snacks and having what appears to be a good time, but he can’t shake the urge to walk away and hide himself in his office.

You’re the face of the company Tony, you need to do this!

And he gets it, he really does—a few photos of him donating blood will help tremendously in the ever continual effort to make him seem less the cold hearted billionaire and more the approachable winsome Avenger good guy.

Less of a fuck up.

More...human.

The thing is…

He rubs a hand over his face and draws in a shaky breath.

The thing is, he’s scared.

He doesn’t like seeing blood—namely his own—and after having his chest cracked open in a dank cave in Afghanistan and losing more blood than he’d like in his forays as an Avenger, he’s not exactly eager to go out there and spill more.

Even if it is for a good cause.

There’s a bright laugh from inside the room and he looks in again, attention catching on a handsome man smiling at one of his employees, and Tony’s heart stutters in his chest.

Dark hair, broad shoulders, narrow waist, gorgeous smile…

Okay, so, maybe he can do this.

Sliding his rose tinted glasses on his face, he plasters on a smile and pushes the door open, smiling and waving at his employees and the blood drive staff.

He fills out the requisite paperwork, gets his blood pressure taken(110/70 take that Pepper!) and is sent off to the nearest open table—the one staffed by the hottest man Tony’s ever had the privilege of seeing with his own two eyes.

“Hi Mr. Stark, I’m Bucky and I’ll be your blood draw tech,” the man greets, offering a hand for Tony to shake.

He has a moment of hesitation and then smiles back, more genuinely than when he stepped into the room, and takes the offered hand. It’s warm and dry, calloused but still somehow soft—a contradiction that appears to be very much in step with its owner.

“Heya Bucky, nice to meet you,” he replies, aware he’s got eyes on him—the sound of more than a few shutters clicking reaching his ears.

Bucky’s smile makes soft lines appear around his eyes and mouth and Tony has to choke back a whine—why is he so pretty??? he thinks desperately, it’s not fair!

“Your paperwork says you’ve never donated before, that true?”

Tony nods and smiles uncomfortably, “It’s uh, not that I don’t think it’s important, it’s just, I don’t like…”

Bucky looks up from where he’s writing down something on a stack of paperwork and smiles knowingly, “Don’t like needles?” he guesses.

Tony could lie. He could. But something possesses him and he shakes his head, lowering his voice to respond. “No, I’ve just seen too much of my own blood coming out of my body to really enjoy the idea of donating.”

Well shit he wasn’t supposed to say that.

Bucky stares at him for a moment and then scoots closer on his stool, eyes grayish blue like a thunderstorm sky, studying him.

“You don’t have to donate if you’re not comfortable,” he tells Tony softly, “There’s no shame in that.”

Tony smiles wryly, a little sadly, “You’ve clearly never read anything the papers have to say about me.”

Bucky smirks faintly, “Nope,” he agrees succinctly, the p popping on his pretty pink lips that Tony’s definitely not staring at now.

“We can say you’ve got a fever,” he offers and something flashes through Tony, gratitude and an overwhelming sense of relief that someone gets it—but he shakes his head softly and smiles weakly at Bucky.

“No can do Buckaroo, gotta make sure the people know that Avengers can bleed too!”

There’s a look in Bucky’s eyes, not pity exactly, more sorrow than anything and Tony looks away, shy suddenly.

Why does he always do this?

Five minutes with a pretty face and he’s spilling his guts.

“Okay Mr. Stark, well then, let’s get started.”

Bucky proceeds to explain each step of the process as he goes, and Tony watches him with unabashed interest, studying the way the little pieces of hair that have fallen out of his half man bun have strayed into his face.

He looks away when the needle goes in, stomach lurching at the sensation, swallowing hard for a few moments while he squeezes the little foam duck he’s been given.

His knuckles go white with each squeeze and he closes his eyes, focusing on not throwing up as he listens to the white noise of chatter in the room. A hand brushes against his wrist, closing around it gently, thumb swiping over the heel of his hand softly and he fights a shudder.

“You’re doing great Mr. Stark, keep squeezing every three to five seconds and let me know if you think you’re gonna be sick.”

He nods minutely and lets the warmth of the hand on his wrist ground him.

“It’s Tony,” he whispers, licking his lips before opening his eyes to find Bucky staring at him. “Just Tony is fine,” he explains with a weak, hopeful smile.

Bucky smiles back, wide and easy and Tony’s traitorous heart lurches in his chest.

“Sure thing Tony.”

The thing is…

Tony is feeling...odd.

It’s a little like being drunk; he’s a slightly dizzy, a little goofy, and talking way too much.

“I mean what products do you use because your hair is seriously beautiful! It’s so shiny! And soft looking!”

Bucky smiles faintly, shaking his head at Tony, “Just regular shampoo I guess?” he replies, sounding bemused by the conversation.

Tony lifts a hand as though to touch it and Bucky leans back with a confused look, avoiding the touch.

“Regular shampoo?” Tony gasps, affronted. “But, but, it’s so pretty!” He pouts at Bucky, trying to lean forward to get his hand on it, harrumphing when Bucky pushes him back with an admonishment to sit still Tony.

“You’re like a Disney Princess!” he exclaims, giggling a little.

Bucky snorts and rolls his eyes, “Yea, okay hon, whatever you say.”

Hon...Tony likes that.

Tony whines a little and ok, so maybe he’s acting childish, but Bucky’s just so pretty, how is he supposed to behave?

“Serioulsly, no wait, serio- serioulsly, no, seriously! Ha that’s it!” he stutters, pointing a declarative finger at Bucky.

Bucky lifts a brow and smirks, “You feelin ok there Tony?” he asks, the restrained laughter in his voice very apparent.

Tony pokes his arm and— “Wow your muscles are big, like, how do you even get muscles like that? Are you related to Thor? Cuz that’s just, that’s unreal is what it is.”

Bucky blushes and shakes his head, “Just a few more minutes,” he says instead of answering Tony, standing from his stool to putter around, mostly turned away from Tony now.

Which

Unfair

Tony wants to see his pretty eyes.

And mouth

And hair

And muscles

God he’s pretty

“Thank you Tony, you’re very pretty too.”

Oh shit he said that out loud.

When he looks up Bucky is smirking, eyes twinkling as he works to remove the needle from Tony’s arm and he barely notices the slide of it out of his vein.

Bucky puts a wad of cotton on the spot and guides Tony’s other hand to press down on it, “Okay, hold that there,” he instructs before turning away from Tony again.

Tony does as he’s told and holds it till Bucky replaces it and then wraps some kind of stretchy bandage thing around his arm, nodding as Bucky tells him no heavy lifting, eat a whole meal and hydrate, and expect to be a little more tired than usual. Take the bandage off after four hours and you’re good to go.

Tony nods and scooches to the edge of the cot he’s been laying on, head light as a helium balloon and then—

Promptly collapses, right into Bucky’s arms.

He grins crazily, clinging to broad muscular shoulders, “Ha, well what do you know, I’m really falling for you,” he jokes as Bucky blushes and hauls him upright.

A strong—oh god he’s so strong—arm winds around his waist, guiding him over to the chairs and snacks. He collapses gratefully into the chair and smiles dizzily as Bucky brings him an orange juice and a Nutty Buddy.

“Nutty Buddy! Oh man I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid!”

Bucky grins, “So like a week ago?” he teases, cracking open the orange juice for Tony when he struggles with it.

“Oh, oh I like you,” Tony snickers, “you come here often?”

Bucky shakes his head and smirks, “Your jokes suck sweetheart.”

Sweetheart

Tony’s brain flatlines for a minute as he imagines Bucky whispering that in his ear while he’s buried so deep in Tony that he can feel him in his chest and hnnngggg….

His body doesn’t have enough blood to respond properly to that thought, but his cock makes a valiant effort anyways.

“You suck,” he retorts, “you’re a sucky...you’re a vampire!” he exclaims, pointing a finger at Bucky as the other man laughs and shakes his head. “You are! You suck blood! I bet you’re good at sucking—”

Bucky flushes and reaches out to shove a bite of Nutty Buddy into Tony’s mouth, shaking his head as he does. “And you’re a menace sweetheart,” he murmurs softly, “now eat and drink and be quiet.”

Tony thrills a little at the softly spoken order and nods, eating his snack and drinking his juice till they’re both gone. When he stands again, he sways, but stays upright.

Bucky frowns and steadies him with a hand on his elbow and glances over his shoulder, catching the eye of a petite woman with blonde hair. “Hey Kay, I’m gonna help Mr. Stark upstairs, I’ll be back.”

With her OK, Bucky guides Tony to the elevators and then upstairs to his office, his big warm hand never leaving Tony’s arm. Tony leans into him a little, enjoying the way the other man doesn’t even hesitate to take more of his weight, just slings his arm around Tony’s waist and guides him onto the couch.

Tony slumps back and watches as Bucky rifles through the mini fridge for a bottle of water and a sandwich before he comes back and sits down, staying there till Tony’s eaten every bite.

He doesn’t seem to mind Tony’s inane rambling about why he doesn’t like to see blood—dad smacked me around as a kid, open heart surgery in a cave, Avengers shit—in fact, Bucky frowns and murmurs something about wanting to punch the bastard and Tony feels a thrill of delight at the idea of Bucky’s right hook connecting with Howard’s face.

He’s sleepy by the time he finishes eating and he must look it because Bucky urges him to lie down and produces a blanket from somewhere that he uses to cover Tony, hands gentle as they brush Tony’s hair back from his brow.

“Rest sweetheart, you’ll feel better after a nap.”

Tony nods and makes a soft, muzzy noise of contentment, eyelids growing heavier as he smiles at Bucky.

“Yer so preeetttyyy,” he sighs, hand flopping as he reaches out and finally, finally touches that glorious hair.

Bucky grins softly and captures Tony’s hand, brushes a kiss over the knuckles and laughs softly, “Alright sleeping beauty, time for a nap.”

Tony wants to make a joke about Bucky being the Disney Princess and not him, but the last of his two brain cells have wandered off and his eyes slide shut as his breathing evens out.

He doesn’t hear Bucky leave.

He wakes two hours later, clearer headed and deeply embarrassed by his behavior. He whines softly and buries his face into the throw pillow he’d been drooling into before sighing heavily and rolling upright.

That’s when he spots the note on the coffee table.

It’s from Bucky.

Tony,

I hope you don’t need a kiss like Sleeping Beauty to wake up, but if you’re interested in having dinner sometime, call me.

Bucky Barnes

——————

We had a blood drive at work yesterday and I donated and wound up bouncing this idea around with @riotfalling until I just couldn’t let it go lol so here you go! Hope you enjoy!

@purekate88

@t-h-e-myster-y

@Rinkashitikateku

@desitonystark

@marvagon

@sebastian-i-stan

@astralpcrker

@thirstinart

@starknakedsluts

@slutsforstarks

(As always if you want to be tagged or don’t want to be tagged, please let me know!)

#buckytony #winteriron #tony stark x bucky barnes #bucky x tony #stella writes #crackfic #tw: blood #tw: medicine

[elisaphoenix13]

The Doctor Is In

(5 times Stephen took care of Tony and Peter and 1 time they took care of him)

Stephen fled from the Tower the moment heavy metal music echoed through the surrounding floors of the lab. It wasn't that he hated the music, it was the fact that he knew exactly what it meant.

Tony and Peter were blowing things up.

He could meditate through a majority of things that went on in the Tower. Like if Clint and Sam took over their living room to play video games, Peter crawling all over the ceiling, Tony  cursing at something he's tinkering with on the coffee table...or Clint crawling through the air vents. Their floor was constantly taken over by the other Avengers, and he had grown used to it, but explosions from the lab was another thing entirely. It was random and had different levels of noise that startled Stephen's astral form back into his body and left him momentarily confused and disoriented. Not a fun feeling.

Stephen sighs when Wong drops a stack of books on the table in front of him and he opens a single eye. "Do you mind?"

Wong ignores him as he sits down. "AC/DC?"

The sorcerer supreme stretches out in his chair. "Metallica."

"Wouldn't blasting music hurt Peter's ears?"

"He's used to it. He's usually the one controlling the volume anyway." Stephen slumps in his chair.

"How's motherhood treating you?" Wong grins.

Strange groans. "Not you too. How did you know?"

"Tony calls you Mama Bear almost all the time. It was obvious." Wong flips through one of the books. "...and I heard Peter call you Mom."

"That boy will be the death of me."

"I thought I saw some more grey hair."

He wouldn't be surprised. Both Peter and Tony had very little consideration for self-preservation to the point that...well...they were blowing things up in the lab. He could confidently bet the Eye of Agamotto that he would go home to at least one of them in need of first aid. Bruce only helped them in emergencies for how often they got themselves into trouble. He was tired of fishing glass out of broken skin because of a stupid idea.

"I'm tempted to cover them in bubble wrap so I can have a minute of peace without having to worry about what trouble they're getting into."

"Your domesticity is nauseating."

Stephen smirks. "You're just jealous."

"Hardly."

Stephen's phone starts ringing and he looks at the screen, sighs, and answers.

"Yes Spiderling?"

"Holy crap! Where are you?! Dad got knocked out by the fire extinguisher--"

Stephen coughs to hide his laugh. He was definitely going to watch today's recording of the lab to see how that happened. "I'll be there shortly."

He hangs up before Peter can utter another word and glances at Wong.

"What's the damage this time?"

Stephen grins. "Technical knockout by a fire extinguisher."

Wong laughs.

_______________________

"Peter I swear--" A Lego smacks painlessly against Stephen's forehead. "Did you just throw a Lego at me?!"

The teen flattens himself against the ceiling. "That was my venom! I'm a spider!"

The Vishanti are testing me.

Peter had just recently gotten all of his wisdom teeth pulled and was on very strong pain killers. Something Stephen prayed he would never have to give the boy again because he was a menace. Peter refused to stay in bed and had taken to the ceiling instead, leaving Stephen no choice but to follow him and try to coax him down. He hoped to whatever entity that was listening that the boy wouldn't fall and hurt himself.

The first thing he tried was Levi but Peter stubbornly clung to the ceiling so he had to wave the cloak off from that attempt. Bribing him with ice cream was a dead end as well.

"Spiderling, you don't spit venom." Then another idea came to mind and Stephen didn't know why he didn't think if it before. "How does a movie night with cuddles sound?"

Peter looks at the sorcerer and seems to think over his offer. "'Kay."

Peter was a sucker for physical contact no matter how high he was.

Stephen sighs with relief when the teen moves down from the ceiling and immediately clings to the older man's front like a baby. The sorcerer wraps his arms around Peter to hold him steady, and makes his way back to the boy's bedroom where he gently deposits his burden. He murmurs to the boy to stay while he leaves to change into something more comfortable, and thankfully returns to Peter's room a couple minutes later to find the boy curled up under his blankets.

"Where's Dad?"

"At an Accords meeting. He'll be back by dinner." Strange slips into bed next to Peter and the teen wastes no time in curling up against him. "What do you want to watch Spider-Baby?"

"Disney movie."

Stephen has Karen (Tony connected Peter's AI to his bedroom) start a Disney movie, and gently strokes brown curls. It didn't take long for Peter to pass out between the ministrations and snuggling. One would think the boy was touch starved.

_____________

The tower was calm. Peter was at school and Tony was at a meeting, so Stephen felt he could relax. He really should have known better. As soon as he stretched out on the couch with an actual book not related to the mystic artes, Tony strode out of the elevator with blood streaming down his temple. The sorcerer sighs when his boyfriend flops onto the couch when he sits up, and he retrieves the first aid kit and some ice through a couple of small portals.

"I'd ask how your meeting went but that would be pointless."

Tony hisses when Stephen applies some antiseptic. "The meeting was fine. The private meeting Ross wanted...not so much."

"Just say the word and I can have him free-falling for a couple of hours."

"That would be counter productive since I'm trying to keep you and Peter out of the Accords. You're both special cases."

The doctor finishes by applying a butterfly bandage and then hands Tony the ice. The engineer did have legitimate reasons for keeping Stephen and Peter away. Stephen was the Sorcerer Supreme, and had a responsibility to protect the world from magical attacks. Peter was simply underage.

"Head feeling better?" Stephen asks softly.

Tony nods and grimaces as he places the ice pack on his head. "I think I'll live."

Scott slips into the living room and sits in an armchair sipping at a juice pouch. "Hey Strange, your Mama Bear is showing."

"That better not be Peter's Capri Sun."

"Case and point." He grins and loudly sucks every last drop.

"Quit raiding my fridge Lang." Tony snarks.

"Quit buying all the good stuff." Scott kicks his legs up onto the coffee table and turns on the t.v.

Stephen simply laid out on the couch again with his legs across Tony's lap and read while the other two watched reruns of Friends. He would take the quiet while he could. It was a rare occurrence.

____________________

"Doctor Strange, you have an incoming call from Peter." Victor calls from his bracelet.

Stephen sighs and puts his tea down to pull his phone out of his pocket. He was at school so either he had gotten into trouble (Not likely unless it was an attack an earth kind) or he wasn't feeling well. Something still unlikely because of the spider bite.

"What's wrong Spiderling?" The sorcerer asks when he accepts the call.

"Uh...Doctor Strange?" That was not Peter. In fact it sounded like...

"Ned? Where's Peter?"

"We're in the boy's bathroom on the second floor. I think Peter is going through a sensory overload."

Shit. That was the one thing that Peter truly hated. "Alright. I'll be there in just a minute."

Stephen hangs up, uses his magic to change into his street clothes, and then opens a portal to just around the corner to the school. With long strides, he shoves his way through pedestrians and into the school and makes a quick stop in the office.

"I'm here to pick up Peter Parker." The secretary looks up, blushes, and reaches for the intercom phone until Stephen reaches out and stops her. "Please don't. He's not feeling well and the intercom will only make things worse. I know where he is if I may go get him myself."

The woman quickly gathers herself. "Of course sir. I just need your name and have you sign him out."

When he relayed his name to her, she looked at him with a mixture of confusion and skepticism, but thankfully cleared him to retrieve Peter. She was probably wondering where his robes were since he was dressed like any other person.

Stephen rushes out of the office and up the stairs and to his relief finds the bathrooms fairly quickly. He wrinkles his nose in disgust as he walks in but says nothing when he spots Peter curled in the corner with his hands over his ears. Ned looks up and relief crosses his features as he promptly moves away from his best friend and the doctor takes his place and gently pulls Peter's hands down.

"I'll get you home in just a second Spiderling." Strange looks up at Ned and accepts Peter's backpack from him. "Thank you for calling me."

Ned nods. "I can call him later and tell him what his homework is."

"I'm sure he would appreciate that."

He then turns and opens a portal, the sound of the sparks drawing a whimper from the suffering teen beside him, and Stephen ignores his breaking heart as he helps Peter through. He closes the portal and leads the teen to his bed where Peter quickly sheds everything but his boxers to, Stephen assumed, get rid of his itchy clothing.

"Karen, Overload Protocol please."

In an instant, the window is covered, the lights are dimmed, and Peter finally relaxes when the room is soundproof and nearly dark. Stephen gently lays the covers over his son and Peter cracks open an eye in response.

"Mom?" Peter croaks out.

"Just relax Spider-Baby."

Peter nods and rolls onto his side before settling against his pillow.

_____________________

An explosion startles both Stephen and Happy from their naps on their respective couches, and both jump to their feet before rushing down to the lab. The sorcerer punches in the code to open the lab door and he looks around the trashed and smoking lab for Peter and Tony, faintly registering that DUM-E was successfully taking care of any fires. He soons spots the engineer slumped against the wall and he rushes over before kneeling down to examine him and tend to his injuries.

"I've got Peter!" The bodyguard yells from the other side of the room. "He looks fine. Just knocked out!"

Stephen exhales when he finds Tony in the same condition. "Tony is the same. It must have been a repulsor explosion."

Tony groans and slowly opens his eyes. "Peter..."

"He's alright. What happened?"

The billionaire stands with the doctor's help and rubs the back of his head. "One of my gauntlets short-circuited."

Happy approaches them with a smirk. "The kid just woke up and he's talking a mile a minute. I'm pretty sure he's fine. I'm going back upstairs to finish my nap."

Tony rolls his eyes as Happy leaves the lab and both parents walk over to Peter to find him patting DUM-E.

"Good job putting out the fire buddy. Now Dad won't have to donate you to a community college." The robot trills at the praise.

"Now FRIDAY is risking reprogramming." Tony says irritably.

"I tried to warn you Boss but you didn't listen." Could AI be annoyed? FRIDAY definitely sounded annoyed.

"That sounds like something you would do." Stephen drawls and Tony throws his arms up.

"Traitors! I'm scrapping FRIDAY and breaking up with you!"

Peter looks up at Tony's declaration and watches the couple in alarm, but Stephen simply smiles and the teen relaxes and turns his attention back to DUM-E. The poor kid really feared that his family was going to fall apart over something trivial and it hurt Stephen. It really showed how much Peter loved them.

"You won't have anyone to kiss your boo-boos then."

Tony stares at Stephen until he barks out a laugh that turns into something hysterical. "That's true. Brucie isn't the type." He finally wheezes out.

Stephen then decided to take it a step further. "Besides, if we break up, I'm taking Peter."

The boy himself pouts. "Don't drag me into your marital problems."

"Okay, first of all kid, we have to be married to have marital problems. Second, Stephanie, he was my kid first."

"You guys might as well get married. You already act like an old married couple." Peter grumbles and the older two glance at each other.

"...and there's the headache I get from dealing with you two." Stephen says and rubs his temples.

_____________________

+1

Stephen groggily opens his eyes when a cool hand finds itself on his forehead and he purrs when he finds Tony leaning over him. Something he would completely deny later because he wasn't even aware he could even make that noise.

"Feeling under the weather Mama Bear?"

"I'm fine."

"I'll believe that when you stop trying to hack up a lung while you're sleeping."

The sorcerer bats Tony's hand away and sits up, only for his boyfriend's hand to settle on his chest to stop him from getting up. It was weird for him to be fussed over and he also wasn't about to let a cold keep him from the research he needed to do.

"If you put one foot on the floor I am going to sic Peter on you."

That actually got Stephen's attention. Tony had gotten sick a few weeks back and when Peter got wind of it, he hovered. The teen took it upon himself to make sure that the engineer took some medicine, fed him, and even checked in on him to make sure he was resting. Stephen found it hilarious and let the boy help take care of Tony as long as he didn't disturb him.

To be on the receiving end of that though? That was a scary thought. He was the doctor in the family. He was supposed to worry about them, no matter how many headaches that might cause, not the other way around.

So he laid back down.

"That's what I thought. The only acceptable reason for you to get out of bed is for the bathroom."

"Asshole."

"I love you too Mama Bear. Now let us take care of you." Tony kisses his forehead. "I'll send Peter in with some water and pills."

Stephen glares up at him. "You're going to let him hover anyway?"

Tony frowns. "He already knows you're sick. He promised not to hover."

"...fine."

After Tony left the bedroom, Stephen expected Peter to stumble in a couple minutes later.

He never did.

Tony was the one to bring him whatever he needed, and the doctor immediately knew something was wrong. It took him a few minutes to think about what happened, but then he finally remembered Peter's enhanced hearing. The boy probably heard his parents' earlier conversation and assumed Stephen didn't want to be bothered by him and decided to stay away and respect his wishes.

Just the thought squeezed the sorcerer's heart painfully.

Precious, wonderful Peter ignored his own insecurities so Mom could rest without disruption.

Tony's cellphone ringing pulls Stephen out of his own head and he watches as the older man looks at the screen. He grimaces in irritation before pocketing the phone and places a glass of water on the nightstand by Stephen.

"Pepper needs me for something SI related."

Stephen waves him away. "I'll be fine. I'll have FRIDAY annoy Bruce if I need something."

Tony opens his mouth as if to say something but seems to think better of it and closes his mouth again. Stephen relaxes against his pillow when the billionaire leaves and allows himself to doze off until a thud and a soft curse wakes him later in the evening. Blue eyes blink open at the disturbance and he immediately makes eye contact with doe-like brown eyes wide with horror.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you! I'm only in here because Dad asked me to check on you. Y-You're obviously fine so I'll...go. Yeah." Peter turns to leave and Stephen quickly reaches out and grabs his sleeve.

"Come here Spiderling."

"I swear I wasn't hovering!"

Stephen smiles softly and pulls the younger onto the bed next to him. "You can watch tv if you want...just keep me company."

The horror slowly eases away as the sorcerer pulls him into a hug, and Peter quietly turns on the tv with low volume. If this wasn't enough to show his son he wasn't bothered, he didn't know what was. He really did need the company though. After living in the chaos of the tower for months, the quiet was unnerving.

Stephen found that he really didn't mind.

#stephen strange #tony stark #peter parker #wong #ned leeds #scott lang #mama bear stephen strange #5 +1 #ironstrange #supremefamily

[blancheludis]

A/N: @stony-week, day 7: fake dating

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers Characters: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Wordcount: 3.431 Tags: Idiots in Love, Fake Dating, Getting Together, Oblivious Tony, Oblivious Steve

Summary: Tony needs a date for his parents' summer ball. Too bad Steve would never say yes. But surely, Bucky will be up for eating expensive food and pretending he likes Tony for one afternoon. Whatever could go wrong? 

---

It is a matter of life and death. That is the only reason Tony stands in front of Steve and Bucky’s apartment on a bright morning with still warm muffins to bribe its inhabitants not to throw him out again immediately. He has a key but feels unable to actually take that last step.

When the door is ripped open suddenly, Tony takes a startled step back, staring wide-eyed at Bucky Barnes, who is looking more gruff than usual. He probably had a night shift last night, which has Tony considering to just turn around and flee. Barnes does not like him very much on his good days. There is no need to provoke him when he looks like death warmed over.

“Steve’s not here,” Bucky growls and starts to close the door again, right in Tony’s face. That would still be one of the nicer encounters they had.

“I know,” Tony blurts, “I’m here for you.” He then raises the bag with the muffins as a peace offering. “I brought breakfast.”

For a long moment, it looks like Barnes is going to throw him out anyway. Then he sighs, a long-suffering tone that shows he is fully aware that Tony’s presence usually ends in disaster for all of them. Without another word, he walks back into the apartment, leaving the door open.

Tony stumbles after him into the kitchen, where Barnes is already sitting back at the table, hands curling around a cup. He is smart enough to not reach for the coffee pot standing on the table. In a mood like this, Barnes is even more protective of his coffee than Tony usually is. To gather his courage he would need something stronger anyway.

“How did you know I was at the door?” Tony asks as he gets a plate for the muffins. He knows this kitchen better than his own, mostly because Steve insists that people need more than takeout to survive, while Tony’s fridge has likely never seen anything green in its life.

“Heard your steps,” Barnes answers, looking like he wants to crawl into his cup. “You’ve been fumbling with the keys for minutes, right outside.”

Tony decides not to comment on how creepy it is that Barnes heard him. Especially in this state of mind where he looks like he is going to keel over any moment. It is not like Tony is used to being quiet, but he is reasonably sure that his steps outside were not loud enough to be heard by a normal human being in here. Instead of arguing the fact, though, he simply puts the muffins on the table and watches, half-amused, how Barnes tears into the first one, never looking up.

Right then, when Barnes has his mouth and hands full, Tony decides is his opportunity to talk about his request. There will never be a good time, but he figures that Barnes will not murder him immediately if he is still busy eating. Wasting the muffins by getting blood all over them would be a shame.

“I need you to be my date for my parents’ summer ball.” Even knowing what he was going to say, Tony shudders. He remains standing in case he needs to flee suddenly.

It is a preposterous notion, the two of them going anywhere together. Tony and Barnes are both Steve’s friends, they are simply not friends with each other. It is more of a healthy rivalry. It is likely a sign that they are on a good way that Tony has not vanished without a trace yet. Barnes and his girlfriend Natasha give off the vibes that they could easily do that if they committed to it.

Barnes looks up from his muffin, his face is completely blank. He chews, slowly, stares at Tony with the acceptance of someone who always knew Tony would inevitably lose his mind someday.

“Why don’t you ask Steve?” he finally says, still not allowing even a glimpse at what he is thinking.

Tony is not sure whether it is a good or bad sign that Barnes does not question why Tony needs a date all of a sudden – and why he does not ask one of the dozen people always running after him on campus.

“Are you out of your mind?” Tony asks, incredulous. “I like Steve. And he’d hate it there.”

Like might not be the exact term for how Tony feels, but they are friends and that is more important than his illusionary hope for more.

“So you’re asking me? I’m flattered.” The slight mocking in Barnes’ tone is actually more promising than what Tony expected when he was loitering outside.

There is a simple explanation, of course, why it has to be Barnes. With him, there is no danger that Barnes will want something more from Tony than Tony is ready to give. Their animosity for each other is well known, but they can play nice, especially when Steve bullies them into it with his puppy dog eyes. They know each other well enough to pull this off too. It is ideal – a no strings attached night out with good food and plenty opportunity for Barnes to drown annoying people in his suffocating charm.

Instead of saying any of that, Tony simply shrugs. “Well, you’re much less sensitive.”

“Out of your mouth that sounds like an insult.”

As far as Tony is concerned, it is actually a compliment. He would much rather take Steve – even if the chances of Steve agreeing are virtually non-existent – but Barnes has more chances of not being eaten alive amongst Tony’s parents’ peers. Sometimes that permanent death glare and mechanical arm are good for something else than ending bar fights very quickly.

Instead of saying that – Barnes and he are not exactly in the habit of being kind to each other – Tony shrugs. “I’m not going to answer that.”

Barnes reaches for another muffin, tearing it apart as much as he is eating it. “Why don’t you go with Sharon?”

Appalled, Tony stares. “My cousin Sharon?”

His plan for this ball is to raid the bar, hide behind his date’s broad shoulders, and either excuse himself as quickly as possible or behave horribly enough that his parents throw him out to avoid him making a scene. Sharon gets along quite well with his mother, though, and even manages to make Howard keep his temper in check sometimes. If he were to go with her, he would have to actually socialise.

“She’s not your cousin,” Barnes argues.

They have had this argument before, only Barnes insisted the opposite then, bemoaning the fact that Sharon is the reason Tony even knows Steve, thanks to their brief relationship. While Sharon wandered quickly back out of Steve’s life, Tony stuck around.

“She’s my godmother’s niece,” Tony iterates, wondering why Barnes is so adamant on changing the topic. “So, yeah, she’s my cousin.”

Done with his second muffin, Barnes leans back in his chair and musters Tony intensely. “What do you think would happen if you took Steve?”

Tony snorts, unamused. That would be a catastrophe. If he ever managed to gather the courage to ask Steve out, and Steve actually agreed, they would stay as far away as possible from Tony’s parents. Howard has the habit of ruining everything he touches – and Tony does not exactly exclude himself from that – while his mother can be overbearing. The chances of Tony and Steve ever working out as a couple are slim enough without Tony dragging them into the life he fled from as soon as he legally could.

He shakes his head, trying to get rid of this eternal fantasy of him and Steve somehow fitting together. Being friends should be good enough. It is already more than Tony ever expected.

“He’d be miserable,” Tony explains honestly. “My mother would ask a lot of pointed questions, and my father would glare at him until he breaks. He’d hate me for putting him through that.”

What Tony does not say is that Howard would probably like Steve. More so, in any case, than he ever liked Tony. It is entirely possible that he would be charming and companionable, drawing Steve in with that façade he usually reserves for the press or potential investors. Tony does not think he could bear that. Especially since Steve is the kind of person who would try to repair the relationship between father and son, likely with a number of elaborate lectures about how Howard is not so bad and Tony should give him another chance. That would ruin everything.

“And I won’t?” Barnes asks but he sounds distracted, still looking at Tony with eyes that see far too much.

It is unfair, how someone so unsociable is so very good at reading people at the same time.

“You already hate me, Barnes,” Tony says dryly, swallowing the usual disappointment at that. Not because he actually wants to be friends with Barnes, but if Steve ever has to choose between them, it will be no surprise who will have to leave. “It’s no biggie.”

“Steve’s going to hate me too,” Barnes argues in a tone like this is a trap he is waiting for Tony to stumble into.

Frowning, Tony shakes his head. “He won’t.” He does not think there is anything Barnes could do that would make Steve turn away from him, including becoming an international serial killer. “He loves you.”

Barnes' lips tip downward as if his already low opinion of Tony has just plummeted even more. “For a genius, you’re really –”

Suddenly annoyed, Tony cuts him off. “Why do people keep telling me things like that?”

To his surprise, Barnes’ face brightens with amusement. “So I’m not the first you asked?”

As if Tony would be suicidal enough for that. The problem is, he has already exhausted all other possible dates. Pepper, being the obvious choice, is coming with Happy. Rhodey is out of the country, as usual. Clint is not an option. And – well, the number of people Tony trusts enough to come with him and not drive him insane by seeing this as an opportunity to schmooze with rich people instead of the actual torture it is, is depressingly short.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Tony drawls, “you’ll still be the prettiest girl at the ball.”

Reaching for the coffee pot, Barnes refills his cup. “I didn’t say yes.”

“You will,” Tony answers. He is reasonably sure about that because Barnes would never miss the chance to gather new blackmail material against Tony. Where better to do that than at a public event with his parents running around?

“Not in a hundred years.”

Barnes sounds convinced. The words have not completely left his mouth, though, when he reaches for a third muffin. Just like that, Tony knows he has won.

His last class of the day got cancelled, so Steve enjoys the luxury of feeling the sun on his skin as he hurries home for a shower and something to eat before he has to leave for his evening shift at the diner two blocks away. He usually has to run after class to make it on time. So much freedom feels foreign.

He walks into Bucky and his apartment whistling, throws his keys with practised ease in the profoundly ugly bowl Clint got them when they first moved in, and goes to find Bucky.

As he passes the kitchen, he finds a plate with muffins on the table. Since lunch has been several hours ago, Steve’s stomach growls with suddenly awakened hunger. The moment he has one in hand, though, he frowns. From the texture and smell alone he knows this is better than the stuff they can normally afford. Feeling paranoid, he looks for the bag in the trash and sees the logo of an expensive bakery downtown. The muffins were definitely not purchased by Bucky then.

In fact, Tony is the only viable explanation, and while he shows up randomly all the time, he knows Steve has to work today. Well, Tony’s forgetfulness at least got them free baked goods.

Steve walks on and knocks on Bucky’s door, wanting to greet him before he takes his shower. What he does not expect when he goes in, is Bucky with a slightly panicked expression, in a hurry to get either in or out of the suit he is half-wearing. It is the only one they own, and they share it like everything else.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, the hand with the muffin hovering in the air as he stares at his best friend.

“What are you doing home?” Bucky asks back, briefly closing his eyes in the manner of the guilty being caught doing something they are not supposed to do. “You still have class. And then work. You’re not supposed to be here.”

Something is definitely going on. First Tony stops by when Steve is not here and now Bucky is acting suspiciously.

“Where are you going?” Steve’s eyes fall on the tie lying on the ground, the knot already made but hastily opened again. Bucky is undressing then. “Wait, has this something to do with the summer ball nobody’s telling me anything about?”

It is not just any ball, but the Stark’s summer ball, which might just be the biggest event of the year in this area, only outshined by the Stark’s Christmas Gala. Tony had once offered him to have his mum display some of Steve’s paintings there, but Steve refused whole-heartedly. Everybody told him it would be the smart move to make, but to him, it would feel like cheating.

As it is, he has no interest at all in going to a terribly snobby event like this. It would just remind him how far out of his league Tony is. It is already painfully obvious enough.

“Well –” Bucky says slowly, telling Steve all he needs to know.

What he does not understand is why Bucky would go to that ball. More so, why he would even get an invitation. He and Tony are not exactly good friends, although they keep trying for Steve’s sake.

An ugly suspicion creeps up on Steve. “Did Tony ask you to be his date?”

Rationally, it makes no sense. He does not even know where the thought comes from. Bucky’s sudden, guilty expression is all the answer he needs, though.

“Steve,” Bucky begins in a soothing tone that goes right over Steve’s head, “don’t get angry. That’s not good with your asthma.”

Steve is sure it is not because of his asthma that his breathing becomes laboured right now. A weight sits on his chest, half-panic and half-fear of losing something that has never been his, to begin with.

It does not make sense, though. Tony is good at acting but his blundering shyness around Bucky has nothing to do with a secret romance they might be hiding. They keep getting thrown together because they are both Steve’s friends. It is awkward, a disaster waiting to happen.

No, Tony would not ask Bucky to come to his parents’ ball just like that. There has to be a reason.

A sudden calm comes over Steve. “I need you to get out of these clothes,” he says, stepping into the room. As he holds out his hand, he notices the smashed remains of the muffin, a victim of his blind panic. Mindlessly, he sets it down on Bucky’s desk, wiping the remaining rumbles on his paint-streaked pants.

“What?” Bucky asks, not moving quickly enough. Not moving at all, actually, too busy with staring at Steve. “I’m sure getting naked with me would cure you of a lot of –”

Steve is not in the mood for joking, so he just talks over Bucky. “We only have this one suit, and I’m going to need it if I’m going to that party.”

He knows a girl majoring in costume design, maybe she can help him make the suit fit a little better.

He does not know what he is doing, but he is sure that Tony does not want to take Bucky to that ball. That, at least, has to be true. Steve might not like social gatherings, might be completely helpless in the face of so much excessive wealth, but he can bear that for Tony.

A small voice in the back of Steve’s mind warns him that he should not blow his infatuation with Tony out of proportion. Just because he likes Tony a little bit too much does not mean that Tony does the same. Perhaps it was not a mistake that Tony asked Bucky. Perhaps it was not a coincidence that no one talked to Steve about that ball. Perhaps – he will simply have to take a leap of faith.

For two years now, he and Tony have been walking circles around each other. Surely, it is better to get some concrete answers than to drown in what-ifs.

“You’re not invited,” Bucky says, bringing Steve back to reality.

In his head, he has already been stepping on the lawn of the Stark Mansion with Tony at his side. Here, though, Bucky has not yet taken any more of the suit off.

“I love you, Buck,” Steve says impatiently, “but I’m not going to let you be Tony’s fake date.”

Something in Bucky’s eyes brightens and his expression relaxes. That is enough to make relief shoot through Steve. He was not wrong.

“Who said anything about fake?” Bucky asks gruffly, but there is an unmistakeably smile on his face and he is already busy unbuttoning the shirt.

“I did.” Sudden weightlessness has Steve’s stomach flipping. Nothing has changed yet, Tony does not know, but they might just be on their way there. “Start undressing.”

Shaking his head, Bucky pulls off the shirt, careful not to rip it with his prosthesis. “You two deserve each other, you know that?”

“I sure hope so,” Steve sighs, “otherwise I’m going to suffer an unpleasant evening with Tony’s parents for nothing”

No time spent with Tony is for nothing, of course, but maybe, hopefully, they can turn it into more. Two years of pining has to be enough. Two years of – a wonderful friendship.

Face falling, Steve stares at the pieces of the suit on the ground in front of him. He cannot destroy their friendship for a hunch, a crush. It is better than to have just some pieces of Tony than nothing at all.

“Oh no,” Bucky says, appearing suddenly in Steve’s face. “You’re not going to talk yourself out of this right now.” Without warning, he sticks his hands into Steve’s pocket and gets out his phone. “We’re resolving this immediately.”

“What are you doing?” Steve asks, reaching for his phone but he does not have a chance against Bucky’s prosthesis holding him off.

“Hey, Stark,” Bucky says into the phone, and Steve is close enough to hear Tony’s confused greeting on the other end. That takes all the fight out of him. “I’ve got good news for you. I’m not coming to the ball with you.”

Angry yelling is audible, but Bucky cuts it off with a grin. “I’ve got someone better for you.”

With that, he holds out the phone for Steve. “You can thank me later.” Then he walks out of the room, not caring that he is only wearing boxers and might have just ruined Steve’s life.

“Tony?” Steve asks with some trepidation. “I thought – I heard you were looking for a date.”

The silence on the other end makes Steve suspect the worst. Then, Tony exhales loudly. “You don’t have to offer this out of pity.”

Pity? The very thought has Steve becoming upset. Not for the first time does he make a mental note to find whoever messed up Tony’s sense of self-worth and have a long talk with them.

“I want to go with you,” Steve says as firmly as he dares. No more lies. No more hiding. “I want to be your date. Your real date.”

“I –” Tony sounds at a loss but not disappointed, not confused. “Let me buy you dinner first?”

A grin spreads on Steve’s face. If nothing else, that is encouraging. It is not a no. “Tomorrow at six?”

“Yes,” Tony exclaims, leaving no doubt that he agrees with Steve’s plan, enthusiastically so. “Tell Barnes he’s won. I’ll build him that lightsaber for his arm.”

They laugh together. Tendrils of nerves are still spreading in Steve’s chest but there is no going back now. He would not want to anyway.

#stonyweek #fanfiction #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #fake dating #bucky barnes #getting together #idiots in love #no powers au #did i mention that they're idiots #ao3 #my writing #avengers

[left-myself-in-the-alleyway]

Forever & Always

Part 3

Warning: Descriptive abuse, panic attack(s) touches lightly on drinking

To anyone who reads this: I wrote this part before I did any research on panic attacks and such so please be kind.

Thanks to @momobucketcomics for editing/co-writing this and making the mood board below.

More thanks to @devotedlybeautifulkingdom- (Tumblr won’t let me tag you!) for showing support for this story.

-

I felt someone rubbing my back. Someone, or something was comforting me, telling me I was safe. In the state I was in, I'm surprised I could hear it at all. I could feel the sweat trickling down my face, leaving a wet, slimy trail. I also felt myself calming down, albeit slowly.

It's okay. It's okay. I kept telling myself, desperately wanting to believe it.

I sat up straight and leaned back, still trying to fill my lungs. I could barely get enough air in them without feeling like I was suffocating.

I heard someone say my name.

"Mmhhmm...?" I mumble, my eyes still shut tight.

"Evelyn, can you please open your eyes?" I hear a voice that sounds like Tony ask, sounding... concerned?

Slowly, I comply to my so-called father's wishes.

I opened my eyes to see a sea of faces staring at me, worried expressions on their faces.

...Last time I checked, there weren't this many people in the room. Damn, I'm seeing double again.

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, my head was clear enough to speak normally. "I'm sorry... overreaction." I try to cover up.

"I would like to apologize for asking you that. I didn't know you would react that badly." Thor explained. It was badly worded, but...I knew what he meant.

"It's okay. It's not your fault- I shouldn't have let my mind wander..." The last words drifted off into a mutter- I wonder if he could hear me.

"Do I have a room?" I ask quietly. I don't want to stay here for much longer.

"Yes, I um. Yeah." Tony still looked a bit freaked out about my panic attack. I hope he hasn't bitten off more than he can chew by taking me in...

"I can take her to her room, Tony." Steve offers.

"Thanks, Steve." He replied, walking away.

Steve gave me a smile. "Follow me."

Dragging my feet, I grab my backpack and duffle bag. Panic attacks are exhausting.

As soon as we leave the room, it's just the two of us. The hubbub in the last room seemed to have vanished from existence, as if nothing had happened at all. Huh, guess they have soundproofing here too.

"Are you okay?" He asked as the elevator started to move.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say, trying to get some form of a smile to form on my face. I hate it when people worry about me- I feel like I'm just a nuisance to them.

"You know, when I first came out of the ice, I had panic attacks. Everything was really overwhelming." He admitted. "I found the best thing I could do was talk to people about what happened. War is an ugly thing. You see a lot of things you wish you hadn't."

"It sounds like...you had a hard time leaving the past in the past and embracing the future" I say quietly as we navigate the halls, a whisper being all I could muster.

"You're pretty smart for someone so young. But that is something that you should remember too. Your past may determine your future, but it doesn't have to rule it." He explains as we come to my door, his pure blue eyes boring into my hazel ones.

"If you ever need anything at all, and you can't find Tony, don't be afraid to come to me for help." He said softly. "Just ask JARVIS to take you to my apartment. It's on this floor."

I scrunch my eyebrows. Apartment? "Everyone here has half a floor, except for myself and Tony. He has a whole floor to himself. I have almost a whole floor, so that's why Tony figured it would be a good idea to put you here." He explained.

My eyes go wide. "That's right, you get a small apartment just for you." He chuckled.

I smiled to myself. Maybe this won't be so bad.

"Remember what I said." He says, walking away.

I walk into my room, exhausted. I let go of my bags, letting them land wherever. It's so clean in here, I feel a slight twinge of guilt for messing up the neatness of everything with my scruffy baggage. I look at the rustic, brown clock. Thank God it’s not some weird futuristic aesthetic design, I hate that kind of stuff . It's 6:00.

That means it's only 3:00 back home.

Home. Somehow, the word feels foreign in my mouth- like a new shoe that'll take getting used to, or... Something.

I look at my messy bags laying haphazardly on the floor. My other luggage must be downstairs, wherever Mr. Hogan put them. I'm too tired to care about anything right now. I've got so much to do, but I can't resist taking a quick nap- Then I'll unpack and check out the rest of the apartment.

I flop down on the couch. Closing my eyes, I still can't believe how much my life could change so much over the course of a few hours.

-

Tony trodded over to the lounge bar, searching for the drink he had left behind earlier. He chugged down the glass of alchohol. Even though it was now room-temperature, he savored it rushing down his throat. Then, without even thinking, he poured himself a glass of the strongest bottle on the shelf- Devil's Springs Vodka. He collapsed on the couch sipping his strong drink.

-

"No, no! Stop it!" I scream at my mother.

She had just returned from wherever it was that she went. Probably the bar, considering her words were extremely slurred. With every step she took, it was heavier than anything- like ten earthquakes simultaneously rocking my world.

She was hitting me, landing blow after blow over and over again. I wish it would stop.

I need it to stop!

I almost got away, but she latched onto my shirt and pulled me back.

"Oh, darling. You're not getting away that easily!" She laughed as she dug her long, inhumanly sharp nails into my arms. I cried out as I felt the skin start to split and bleed.

She shoved me onto the floor. Before I could be relieved at her release, my head caught the corner of the table on my way down. Pain exploded through my head, and I could feel hot blood welling up somewhere on my face. Through my blurry, spotted vision I saw her chug down another bottle of vile-smelling beer.

Then, instead of doing what I hoped she would do, she threw it at me. I screamed as it shattered on the floor, showering me in broken shards. I cried out one last time as I felt the pieces of glass embed themselves in my flesh, burning deeper and deeper inside me. As I struggled to run away, my hands slipped on the floor that was pooling with my blood and tears. It rose ever higher, fueled by my bodily fluids, threatening to flood the entire room. The salty mixture seeped into my fresh wounds, burning them black.

Before I black out, I hear her say something. Her voice was no longer slurred, but crystal clear. It was sick and twisted, familiar and yet of something nightmarish that you'd only hear in the darkest depths of hell.

"Remember, Evelyn; however far you run, no matter how hard you fight back, I will be with you. Forever... and Always." As she growled those last words, everything faded away into darkness.

-

I shot up out of my restless slumber, drenched in cold sweat. My heart was pounding. I quickly pulled up the sleeves of my pullover, thinking I had woken up after being knocked out. There were only fading bruises and scars. Then, I remembered where I was. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I glanced at the clock. I only slept for 45 minutes, and I'd managed to have one of the worst nightmares in history. Oh, jeez.

I started unpacking my measly possessions. Anything to get my mind off That.

Someone had brought the rest of my bags up and put them in my room. I plopped down on the pristine bedsheets, feeling myself sink down into the mattress. It felt much comfier up here than on the couch. Maybe if I'd crashed on an actual bed, I'd have been spared the horrors of that nightmare.

I hung up a few of my tops in the closet. Most of my clothing consisted of long-sleeved sweaters, which I used to wear to school to hide the marks. I also had one sundress and two maxi skirts. They were beautiful, but I couldn't remember the last time I wore them. Standing on my tiptoes, I put a few of my pants and shorts on the shelves. Some of them were messed up, but I threw them in anyway. I was never any good at folding clothes. From there, I head into the bathroom to unpack all of makeup and other... Necessities.

I wonder if there's any dishes in the cupboards. Skipping off to the mini-kitchen, I went to check. Sure enough, there was. There was also food in the fridge! Am I supposed to live by myself, completely? I wonder to myself, checking out the other contents of the various drawers. The countertops were sparkling, and even inside the compartments of the kitchen, not a jar was out of place. Just the way it will stay, clean.

I fiddled with my phone, looking for my favorite playlist. Ah, found it.

Forgettable by Project 46 filled my ears.

I absentmindedly started to hum along to the song- This soon developed into quiet singing.

The song's beautiful and uplifting melody rejuvenated me. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, as I started organizing.

I adjusted a photo of me and my cat, trying to get it just right. I finally get it to sit at the right angle on the little counter beside the kitchen. As I subconsciously sung to the tune of my music, I stepped back to examine the angle of the frame. Suddenly, in between songs, I heard something behind me. It sounded kinda large- maybe mice? Huh, not if the cleaning team can help it. Really Evelyn, this is Stark towers. There won't be mice here. After ridiculing myself a bit more I turn around, thinking I might make some tea. I nearly screamed when I saw a figure in my doorway...

[floatingpetals]

Vanish in the Dark Pt 5

Pairings: None at the moment(I think I got something.)

Warnings: Language, Blood, dead guy

Word Count: 2500+

Summary: Assassin’s Creed AU and Marvel AU crossover.  The Brotherhood has spent years hiding in the shadows keeping the Templars in line as the years pass on. When the Templars company Abstergo Industries strikes up a deal with Hydra, things have to change. The Brotherhood decides to step out of the shadows, reaching out for the help of the Avengers. What could go wrong?

A/N: Aw-yeah. Part five is done. And now I’m back to, ‘oh lord where am I gonna go from here’. But don’t worry, I kind of got an idea. Kind of. For some reason, I’ve found watching Greatest Public Freakout videos to be a great way to get motivation to do anything. I don’t know if it’s the rage from peoples stupidity, or the face that all the freakouts are hilarious to watch. Oh, well; I hope you guys like this part, I’m going to be really really busy the next few days, so I’m not 100% sure when I’ll be able to update again. Enjoy! Also liking and rebblogging also helps me know if i should keep going. Thank you guys!  ❤️

Once again, the gif is not mine, credit to the owner.

Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Series Masterlist

Tony’s head fell back, stifling a groan under his breath. So far the conference was absolutely boring, all they did was drone on and on about what they were going to do, but never once showed any concrete evidence. Just fed the public lies upon lies. It had been almost twenty-five minutes in, and it felt like forever. Especially since nothing out of the ordinary had happened yet. He was starting to doubt that anything was going to go down.

“This is turning into something pointless,” Wanda muttered, having tossed the magazine down beside her. The others muttered in agreement. The group had had their share of sitting through many boring meetings before, but this was taking the cake. Just when they thought it couldn’t get any more boring, a man in a white coat stepped up. Tony’s head practically rolled when the man’s dull voice began to drone on. He had shut his eyes for only a moment when F.R.I.D.A.Y. beeped in his ear. All five sat straighter, suddenly tense and at the ready.

“Sir-“ F.R.I.D.A.Y. hadn’t had a chance to warn them for what she caught. She was cut off, suddenly silent after a beeping came from the chair in front of Tony, and the man frowned at the sound. Slowly He leaned forward, dipping down under the seat. The beeping stopped, only to be followed by a slow hiss. He shot up from his seat when smoke came out from under the seat. He opened his mouth to shout to say something, but a serious of small pops caught him off guard. In an instant, the entire courtyard, street, and opposite building covered in a thick gas. The small beads that had been scattered from earlier exploded to release the gas they contain, spreading a thick fog that covered the surrounding area. Tony didn’t have time to activate his suit before he took in a lung full of the gas, his whole body going numb. He collapsed to the ground, struggling to find his strength as he choked on air. Through his com he heard the others struggle, their bodies hitting the pavement just as hard. He tried to speak but only succeeded in sucking in more of the gas.

Wanda and Natasha both had collapsed on the ground in front of the benches, finding themselves paralyzed from the thick smoke as well. It was as if the ground shot up to meet the two of them, and both could only barely raise their hands to brace the impact. Neither couldn’t see an inch in front of their faces, but before they dropped they saw Sam following quickly behind. Natasha fought to find her voice, hoping the two people immune to this were at the ready.

“Steve-“She croaked. She didn’t receive an answer, and dread settled in her stomach. Instead, she heard him struggle to answer, along with Bucky.

Both soldiers were crumpled on the ground of the café, for the first time in a long time neither able to tap into their strength. To Steve, he felt like before he was given the serum, his body refusing to answer a simple request to stand. Whatever was in this gas, it paralyzed everyone. Even the civilians that surround the area had dropped. His biggest concern was for their safety, but his next was where the hell this thick gas had all came from. He racked his brain trying to find an idea of where it could have come from but came up blank. It had to have been planted before they even got there. But how did F.R.I.D.A.Y. manage to miss this?

Steve wasn’t sure how long they struggled to simply roll over, but soon after what felt like forever, he began to feel a tingle in his fingers. He let out a groan of relief, his fingers closing and opening easier with each passing second. He was able to pull his legs underneath himself and push off. It was like he was a newborn deer, his body trembling under his own weight. Bucky grunted, finding himself in the same predicament. The stumbled, gripping the tables and chairs as the tried to make their way across the street to the courtyard. The gas, or smoke whatever it was, had begun to slowly dissipate allowing them a bit more distance. Steve could barely make out Natasha and Wanda as they too struggled to stand, and he stumbled to help Natasha up. Bucky was right behind him, pulling Wanda up to her feet. They hissed at the growing tingle as if their whole body had been asleep and was waking all once.

“What the hell?” Sam uttered as he leaned against the pillar, struggling to breathe. He watched Tony slowly do the same, standing to along with all the others in the crowd, gripping the chairs in front of him. Nobody could answer, still uncertain themselves. It wasn’t until the gas faded completely that everyone collectively could move again. The civilians looked around scared and confused, murmurs of questions growing through the crowd. What just happened? Just when they thought things couldn’t get any worse, a scream tore through the courtyard.

All heads snapped towards the sound, a sudden mass of bodies in suits surrounding where the sponsors had been sitting off to the side. From where each of the Avengers stood, there wasn’t a good angle on seeing what had happened. It wasn’t until a few of the security guards began to struggle with a man that they got a good idea.

“I didn’t do it!” The man screamed as he fought off the guards. He threw himself out of their grasp, only to be grabbed by more. He screamed as they dragged them into the building, the panic enough to cause a shiver to go up each spine of those close. The barrier of people surrounding the sponsors split just enough to allow Sam and Tony to see what the man was screaming about.

Laying face first on the ground was an unknown man dressed in a black suit, a pool of dark liquid growing beneath the body. Sam had seen enough battles to know that the male was no longer living. The sound of sirens were in the distance, the wails growing closer.

“We need to leave,” Sam said as he pushed off the pillar, Tony quickly moving through the chairs. He and Tony both met as they strode through the gathering crowd, pushed against the people who wanted to see what happened. After such a boring conference, many of the media there were excited to get something worth telling.

Steve began to argue, but his mouth snapped shut at the hard glare Tony gave him when they met up. They crossed back over the street, passed by the café where the wait staff stood watching as the police cars and ambulances pulled up. They turned the corner right as the yellow tapes were pulled out, and the orders for all witnesses to speak with the authorities. 

Natasha spared a glance over her shoulder, one last time to take in the scene. She paused when she saw a lone man, the man in the white coat, standing on the podium, staring directly at them. Her skin began to crawl under his stare, uneasy for a number of reasons. Straightening her back, she turned away and sped to catch up with the others. It wasn’t until they returned to the hotel room, three blocks down that they spoke of what happened.

“I get their name now.” Sam let out a sigh, walking around the bar to grab two beers in the mini-fridge. He motioned to Tony, who nodded at the offer of alcohol. Both downed the bottle before they began explaining.

“We were played. Somehow, someway, they managed to do it.” Tony stared down the neck of the empty bottle after he collapsed on the couch.

“Do what?” Natasha asked, scooting close to the edge of the love seat. Bucky settled beside her, his face pulled into a frown. “Tony, you still haven’t told us what. What happened?”

“You mean you haven’t figure out what the ‘Assassin’s’ have done, yet? I’m surprised at you.”

“I have an idea of what they did. I need to hear you confirm it.” Natasha bit, her eyes narrowing at the man. Tony scoffed but said nothing in reply. Instead, he pulled grabbed his tablet from the coffee table.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Yes, sir?”

“What can you tell me?” There was a moment's pause before the tablet sprang to life, a hologram popping up. A man’s face, in his late 50’s, came up with the words deceased written across it in bold red.

“His name was Robert R. Newman. He was a well-known sponsor for NASA, a government-operated branch.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“We know what NASA is F.R.I.D.A.Y. What does that have to do with this Assassin’s crap.”

“Yes, but...” The AI hesitated for a moment, “NASA is also a branch created as a front for and by the Templars.”

The room grew silent, not even Tony had a word to say. Steve turned slowly from the window, wondering if his ears were deceiving him.

“What?”

“It would seem there’s much more than we know about the Templars. My information is limited, but that’s one of the small minute details I learned.” The AI grew quiet, allowing those in the room to process everything before starting again. “There’s more sir.”

Tony set the tablet down on the table, his eyes remaining on the face of the man he saw dead, face first in his own pool of blood less than an hour ago. F.R.I.D.A.Y. took his silence as an indication to continue.

“The man that was dragged away screaming was Franklin Rollin. He is a high power member of Hydra. And the man who is being charged with murder. After the gas faded away, the guard’s found him standing over Newman’s body, with the knife in hand.” The image of the man appeared on the hologram, an article sliding up next to him. “He claims he’s innocent, but the fingerprints and blood on his hands and the murder weapon prove him wrong.”

“Yet he isn’t,” Wanda whispered, fear settling in her stomach. Just as Tony said earlier, somehow, someway, the Brotherhood-the Assassin’s- had played them all. If they could do this, then what else could they accomplish?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. why weren’t you able to pick up on any of this?” Steve asked the question that had been gnawing at his brain since he dropped to the pavement earlier.

“I’m a bit embarrassed to say, I never sensed a single thing wrong.”

“What about the cylinder under the seat? The one that let out the first set of gas? How did you miss that?” The AI didn’t reply right away. “F.R.I.D.A.Y!”

“I do apologize, but my sensor reading said that there was nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t until the second before that I caught a read. By then it was too late.” The AI somehow seemed ashamed it was so easily deceived. “One more detail I must inform you of; once the cylinder had activated, my systems were deactivated at the source, sir.”

“What?” Tony gasped, his head snapping up. Impossible. “How-what? For how long?”

“Five minutes, sir.”

“The exact amount of time the gas lasted,” Bucky uttered in disbelief.

Tony sank back into the couch, Natasha and Bucky doing the same on their seats. Sam leaned against the bar with his arms, his head hanging between his shoulders. Wanda slipped from her standing position to the sit on the opposite end of the couch, while Steve slowly made his way back to the window. How had all of this managed to happen, in such a short amount of time? Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the highly intelligent AI system didn’t sense anything, and then was promptly shut down as if it had an on-off switch.

“This can’t be possible. There has to be a loophole, a good explanation, something!” Bucky ran his hand through his hair. Not even he had heard of something so complicated being executed so flawlessly. This group had thought of nearly every angle and managed to screw over not only Hydra but both the Templars and themselves.

“Why did they even want us there? If they had everything planned so precisely, they knew we wouldn’t need, why have us there?” Sam asked.

“A show of power,” Steve replied. He couldn’t think of any reason but. “They wanted to show us what they could do.” Slowly he turned back to the room, his eyes tired. The others in the room shared the same expression, the similar anxiety in the back of their minds. They thought they were as cunning and powerful at one point, able to figure anything out. They were seconding guessing themselves after the show today.

“They said they would find us when they’d need us. Right now, I say we just get some rest until that happens.” Steve shook his head, tucking his hands into his jean pockets. Everyone mutters their voice of agreement, moving to stand.

“I’m gonna order us pizza,” Tony said as he whipped out his phone. The group gave their input of topping choices simultaneously while he dialed, coming out as one jumbled mess. Tony made a face. “I can’t understand you, people, when you talk all at once!”

Steve relaxed as the tension in the room dissipated. He turned to leave for his room, pausing to ask for a large double meat lover before he left to shower. Tony grunted in reply and started listing off the order to the kid on the other end of the line.

Steve moved around his room in a haze, his mind still thinking over every last detail of the morning. He couldn’t figure it out, couldn’t see how they managed to pull this off. If he was a computer, he was sure he would be short-circuiting by now. He laughed to himself at that comparison. I’m spending too much time with Tony in his lab, he thought. Just as he passed the end table beside his bed, he caught something from the corner of his eye that wasn’t there before he left.

The dread from earlier settled once more as he saw the neatly folded paper laying on the table. Slowly, he moved to pick it up, finding his hands trembling ever so slightly. He turned the white paper over, frowning at the familiarity of the texture. It was a sketch on a piece of paper. The breath caught in his lungs when he saw the insignia from early expertly melted in the blue and silver wax that sealed the paper shut. Tentatively, he opened and unfolded the sketch paper, somehow knowing what he would see on the page. Two sheets were folded together, a picture-perfect drawing of himself bashfully looking away on the first page, and an equally flawless drawing of Bucky grinning wide on the second. Written in pristine cursive on the corner of his image, were the words:

“Nothing is true, everything is permitted.”

Vanish in the Dark Tag List:

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(OPEN-let me know if you’d like to be tagged) Also let me know if you’ve asked and I’ve missed you! I didn’t mean to miss you:)

#steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #tony stark #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #falcon #iron man #scarlet witch #black widow #vision #peter parker #clint barton #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #Marvel #au #fanfic #fanfiction #crossovers #assassin's creed imagine #assassin's creed

[laceys-notebook]

In Which She Bruises Him

Bucky Barnes x female oc submitted by My Fucking Sister!

Synopsis: “I’ll give you one and in return, you can mark ‘hickey’ off your ”What Bucky’s Missed“ list. (or: Bucky’s never gotten a hickey before and Jayla takes it upon herself to change that.)

A/N: Not smut, but not exactly fluff either, they do share a few cute moments though.

The music was hushed throughout the near-empty living quarters as Jayla took another swing from her beer bottle. There was nothing to watch on tv and most of the team were off on a mission or doing their own thing. Steve, her and Bucky were the only ones to fill the whole compound . The night was slow and remained uneventful.

There was a shuffle from the hallway. “What are you drinking?” She heard a low voice from behind her seated position on the couch.

“It’s just a beer. There’s more in the fridge. Bottom shelf, behind the stacks of egg cartons,” she called out towards the voice she recognized as Bucky’s. She listened as he pulled open the refrigerator door with a loud sigh.

“Who the hell keeps hiding the beer?” He exclaimed, sounding aggravated.

“I’m 100% sure its Barton,” She joked, taking another sip from her beer. Bucky slumped down on the seat beside her, his heavy body caused the couch to shake as he let out a satisfying sigh. He lined the closed beer to an edge of his metal arm and snapped the bottle cap off with ease. Jayla was slightly impressed, recalling the five minutes it took her to get her’s opened.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” He asked taking a large gulp of his beer. She looked down at her cellphone in her lap as 23:10 lit up her screen.

“I wasn’t really thinking of doing anything,” She explained. Bucky nodded in agreement as they continued to sit in a comfortable silence. Steve suddenly walked out of his room and plopped next to Jayla, sandwiching the young woman between the two super-soldiers. “What now?” asked Jayla. The question hung in the air as the three of them just sat there, watching the t.v. screen light up to some random late night talk show.

“There’s beer in the fridge,” Bucky said to Steve, who got up from his seat and made his way towards the kitchen.

“Wait,” Jayla said turning around to face the super-solider. “We should take shots. I mean, there’s nothing else to do,” she suggested making her way to other to the far end of the floor towards Tony’s personal bar.

“I don’t think so, Jay,” Steve shook his head as he processed the possible outcome of the night.

“Come on, Cap, I don’t see the big problem. I mean we’re all adults here, Buck and I know our limits and you can’t get drunk,” she explained, jumping over the counter and beginning rummaging through the alcohol stash. “Now, shall we do vodka or tequila?” She asked the young men as she held up two different bottles in each hand, a visible smirk playing on her lips.

Deciding on vodka she began pouring three shots in the glasses she found behind her. With Bucky seated at the bar, his beer placed on the table, he picked up the small cup and turned to face Steve. Letting out a defeated sign, Steve walked over, took the cup off the counter and proceeded to down the liquid in the cup. Letting out a victory woot, Jayla took her shot, soon followed by Bucky. The liquid burned down her throat and sat as a heated pile at the bottom of her stomach. She cleared her throat as she began pouring a second round of  shots. By this time Steve began drinking the remnants of Bucky’s beer as Bucky had disregarded his drink in favour of the new shot of vodka in front of him.

After the next few rounds, the metal-armed soldier and the dark haired agent were feeling the affects of the vodka while Steve stayed sober. He was having fun however, laughing along to the stupid jokes the girl would tell and even wincing at the retellings of their young adventures through Bucky. The night was filled with drunk banter and clumsy slip-ups.

Walking around floor with the empty bottle in her hand, Jayla made her way towards Bucky who sat on the carpet in front of the tv. As she turned the corner she crashed into the edge of the table. “Fuck,” she exclaimed as she dropped the bottle. Steve and Bucky both ran to her as she lay on the floor. The two men looked down at her as she began laughing at her own drunken clumsiness. Bucky began laughing along with her as Steve slowly lifted up her shirt to reveal that the glass table had nearly punctured her now red skin.

“That’s going to leave a bruise, I’ll get you some ice.” Said Steve as he began to make his way towards the kitchen.

“No don’t,” she called out after him “ ’s fine, I like bruises.” She explained as he laughed again. Steve looked down at her and shook his head as she began to sit up.

“I’m going to bed,” He said as he marched off towards the hallway where everyone’s rooms were.

“Good night, Grampa.” Jayla waved at him as her and Bucky burst out in laughter. Steve rolled his eyes at his drunk team members and proceeded to leave them alone. After their laughter died down, Bucky helped Jayla to her feet. and the pair made their way toward the couches. Jayla taking the love-seat and Bucky sprawled across the three-seater.

“Why do you like bruises?” asked Bucky, eyebrow quirking up as he broke the silence. “Not gonna lie, that’s pretty fuckin’ weird.” he said with a chuckle.

Jayla looked over at him, “I like the way they look, the different colours and shit. I think it’s cool.” She explained.

“Jay, its literally just broken blood vessels,” He said in an unamused tone.

She let out a defeated sign. “Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy them.” She said with a shrug. Jayla was met with a confused look. “Like hickies.” She proceeded. “I mean, the idea of someone breaking your blood vessel through your skin by just, well, sucking. I think that’s cool,” She explained as she closed her eyes and imagined the sensation. “Pretty hot too,” she added quietly, the alcohol now wearing off.

The last bit piqued Bucky’s interest and he turned to face her. Only to find that her eyes were closed and her teeth captured her bottom lip. ‘I wonder what she’s thinking about’, he thought to himself. “You like getting hickeys?” He asked, trying to probe the girl’s mind to see what she was thinking.

“Of course, receiving, giving, having, its all fun. I mean it feels good when you get them and its sort of like a trophy when you have them. An intimate, blood vessel, skin- breaking, trophy,” She explained with a giggle as she licked her plumped lips. Bucky’s heart began to pound as he found himself slowly bringing a flesh finger up to his throat to a little dip just below his jaw; now completely sober from the alcohol.

“Bruises have always meant a fight to me. And normally my fists were on the giving end or my face was on the receiving.” The sudden quiet nature of Bucky’s tone, now tugged on the young agent’s curiosity. She sat cross-legged on the couch to face him, head cocked to one side.

“So you’ve never had a hickey before?” She asked Bucky, whose usual confident persona was now switched out with one more timid.

He looked at her, “I mean- no,” he began to trail off, “but I’ve given a few.” He countered, gaze shifting to look up at the ceiling as he lay his head on the backrest behind him. Jayla smiled to herself as she concocted a stupid idea.

“Now how does that make any sense? From what I’ve heard the infamous ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ was quite the womanizer in his day. I’m sure a quick, steamy make-out session would’ve at least ended in a couple of neck kisses here and there,” she teased, playfully waving her hands for more emphasis. Bucky chuckled at a low tone that rose from his chest.

“No, never. it wasn’t really a thing back then, ya know?” He continued as his chuckle died down. He sighed with a smile as a short-lived wave of nostalgia washed over him, quickly veering into disappointment at what his life had become.

“Why don’t I give you one,” she piped out. His head shot towards her only to find no trace of any joke in her face. “I’m serious, I’ll give you one and in return, you can mark ‘hickey’ off of your ”What Bucky’s Missed“ list,” she offered. He frowned at her playfully as he considered his options. He knew it wasn’t right. What would the team think? Hell, what would Steve think? He considered saying no, knowing that Jayla would just brush off the exchange as if nothing had happened. But he also took in consideration that this opportunity wasn’t going pop up again. And damn, he thought, she was offering.

Bucky swallowed the large lump in his throat and winced as he felt it plop into a pit in his stomach. He had, at first, lusted after the new recruit the moment she joined the team, but the longer she stuck around, the more he found himself to quite enjoy her personality as well. His head slowly nodded as he finally came to terms with the fact that this was truly happening. He quickly sat up from his lying position on the couch as she gracefully made her way towards him. He had been with a number of women in his younger years but by now so much in his life has changed, those memories were a world away.  His new found strength and robotic arm made him cower at the idea of holding the delicate body of a woman between them.

“You seem nervous, Buck. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt,” she reassured him but her words weren’t enough for him.

“That’s not what I’m nervous about,” his body stiffened as she stopped to look down at his seated composure. She placed a finger under his chin and gently forced him to look up at her, her eyes lusting after him.

“You wont hurt me,” her fingers delicately grazed the stubble on his chin.“But you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she stated firmly. Nodding his head slowly, she took his silence as permission to continue. She nudged his shoulders to lean against the backrest of the couch and she straddled his legs. His eyes never leaving hers as she brought her face closer to his lips. “Kiss me?” Her gentle demand sounded more like a question, letting him know that she wanted this but he was in control.

He nodded slightly as his eyes flicked between her waiting lips and questioning eyes. Closing the distance between them, their lips melted into one another. The burning taste of the vodka on his lips mixed with the mint flavour of her lip balm created a sensation that neither could interpret. He found himself a teenager again, having his first kiss with the prettiest girl in school, if the prettiest girl in school was a deadly assassin that could most likely best him in combat of course.

Pulling back from the kiss, Jayla chuckled when she found Bucky with the corner of his mouth raised into a smirk. 'There’s the asshole I know’ she joked to herself. “Now, for the hickey,” she started as she tapped on a spot on his neck. Bucky’s face dropped and his brows furrowed. “What?” She asked when she noticed his change in demeanor.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he explained, though his words betrayed him. He stretched out his neck for her to gain full access, but his breathing was unsteady.

“Relax,” she whispered in his ear as she cupped his face and pulled him in for another kiss, this time, their lips moved more vigorously. After a moment. the tension in his shoulders subsided and his hands finally found the confidence to lightly cup the back of her thighs. He let out a surprised moan and she bit his lip before pulling away to look at him once more. Before Bucky could even question, her lips trailed their way down his chin, lightly nibbling on the way, until her lips found a small dip in his neck.  He gasped as her tongue swiped over the spot before her mouth began to suck. The sensation of pain and pleasure caused him to tilt his head back with a satisfied sigh. Her teeth nipped at the skin while her tongue and lips soothed it over. With one more nip, she pulled away to face a satisfied and surprised Bucky.

Jayla smirked at him as she waited for Bucky to say anything. He reached his fingers up and ghosted them over the spot where her lips just where. She smiled proudly as she looked at her work on the soldier’s neck. With one last peck on his lips, Jayla began to remove herself from his lap, but before she could fully stand, Bucky, with his newfound confidence in the situation, leaned in and pulled her back. She squealed as his hands gripped on to her waist. He began devouring her neck with kisses until he found a spot that made her gasp.

She quickly, almost frantically found her arms wrapping themselves around his neck, as if searching for stability. A deep moan left her lips as her mouth remained open and her breathing became heavy. Bringing him closer, her finger knotted themselves with his luscious brown locks and tenderly tug at his roots. His tongue worked wonders to her skin nibbling, sucking, and lapping up every inch of her neck he could reach. “Oh fuck, Bucky,” she whispered out. She felt him smile against her skin as he continue his assault on her flesh.

At the moment the dim lights were now on full beam and a gasp was heard from the other side of the room. Quickly breaking apart, the pair found Steve with an empty glass of water and his jaw reaching the floor. “Uh, hey Cap,” Jayla  awkwardly waved at him as she got off Bucky’s lap, much to his dismay. She readjusted her shirt and flipped her hair out of her face. “This was fun,” she winked at Bucky, “If ever, you know where to find me.” She continued as Bucky tried to hide his grin. She walked passed Steve and with a quick “goodnight” left the two men to discuss the night.

Jayla woke up in the morning as if it was one like any other. She quickly drank the stale water she kept on her bedside table she had left herself the day before. Surprised at the little, manageable, headache she was sporting, she stood and quickly stretched as she walked towards her bathroom.

Staring into the bathroom mirror, she almost gasped when she saw the many sizeable splotches on either side of her neck. “Ah, shit,” she exclaimed as she ran the cold water and placed a cloth under it. She continued to inspect the red bruises as she tapped the soaked cloth over them. Looking over to her make-up bag she prayed she could cover them up with what she had. She didn’t regret them or what happened with Bucky last night, but she new the pair could be constantly teased if they walked around with matching hickeys.

After spending an extra ten minutes longer on her morning routine, Jayla was confident that her neck looked as if they hadn’t been the victim of assault from Bucky’s lips. She walked out and found that the rest of the team had returned and were now gathered at the table chatting and munching away on breakfast.

“Dude, who gave that to you?” Sam nudged Bucky who sat next to him. He pulled the hoodie of his grey sweater up closer to his neck. Jayla walked up to the table and greeted everyone with a quick “good morning”.

“And how’s yours?” Steve called out from across the table, loud enough for everyone to hear. She sent him a quick death glare as everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at the agent’s neck, only to find it was clear from anything similar to Bucky’s. Bucky raised an eyebrow at the agent as she searched for an explanation to Steve’s question. Quickly remembering the table incident that started the eventful night, she slowly stood from her seat.

The group curiously watched as she began to lift up her shirt to reveal a cut surrounded by a purple looking bruise. “I walked into the corner of the table last night, I’m always so clumsy,” she stated with a chuckle. “But you’re right Steve, I should have iced it,” she finished. The team nodded in agreement and Jayla smiled knowing that they hadn’t linked her and Bucky. “But I wanna to know who gave that to him,” she pointed as she sat back down in her seat while Bucky quickly flipped her off.

During breakfast, the team, including Jayla, pestered Bucky into revealing how he received that giant hickey on his neck. He ended up fabricating some story about meeting a random girl at the bar, the team never once suspected that one of them was actually the culprit. Jayla had just given James Buchannan Barnes his first hickey, and it definitely wouldn’t the last.

#my sister harasses me with this good ass shit! #how dare she write better than me on my own blog #outrageous #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes one shot #marvel oneshot #almost smut... almost #lacey writes

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Imagine Tony's cat keep sneaking out of Tony's apartment to cuddle with Bucky's dog next door. Tony secretly thinks his cat is plotting something. Bucky is exploding from the cute every time he comes home and find his dog cuddling a kitty, not to mention the bonus when the cute guy next door comes to collect his cat.

Cats, Dogs, and Neighborhood Betting Pools Pt. 1

Tony lay flat on the floor on his belly and stared deeply into Natasha’s eyes. She yawned at him. “Your breath smells like tuna,” Tony said, affronted. She stared at him, large eyes wide and innocent. “I did not feed you tuna. And, my sandwich is missing.” She continued staring. “Don’t give me that look, cat, I know you’re behind this.”

She stretched out a paw and booped him on the nose.

Tony sighed and deflated. He reached out and gently scratched behind Natasha’s ears. Apparently in a good mood, she didn’t retaliate. She rarely drew blood unless he pushed the issue, she was good about giving him a warning. Other people, on the other hand - well, Tony kept a first aid kit on hand, just in case. “What are you plotting?” Tony asked the cat.

She yawned in his face again and laid her head on her paws, settling in for a nap.

“Fine,” Tony grumbled. “Keep your secrets!” His voice emerged less angry and more fond. Standing up, he grabbed his bag off of a nearby chair. “I’ll be back after work. Be a good guard kitty and eat any intruders, you little demon.

Natasha turned her back on him.

Tony snorted and left, locking the door behind him. Not that it would do much for security. He’d forgotten his key and carded in before, and he was sure he’d do it again. He had no doubt that others could do so as well. Skirting his neighbors’ doors, Tony made his way quietly down the hall and then bounded down the stairs, taking several steps at a time. They creaked under his feet. It wasn’t a great apartment. Ever since he and Howard had a falling out over the future direction of Stark Industries, Tony had been cut off. He was stubborn, though, and refused to come around to Howard’s line of thinking, so he got a job at a nearby garage and another one at a Starbucks near the garage, and started trying to scrape by in a crappy New York apartment. Natasha had saved him from a mugger in a back alley, so he’d taken her in and miraculously managed to feed both of them.

It also improved his security. She was a vicious guard cat.

Mobile Readers ‘Ware the Read More!

Bucky Barnes stared at his ceiling, listening to his clock tick. Every limb felt heavy - heavy, heavy, heavy. Even the one that wasn’t there anymore. Sitting up was like trying to move through mud, and blood, and under the weight of Carson, because no way in hell was Bucky leaving him behind.

Bucky sucked in a deep, deep breath, and then let it out in a long stream of air that felt like a roar at the unfairness of the world. Rolling over onto his stomach, he grabbed his phone. Quickly he swiped out a message. Don’t think I’ll make it in today.

You feeling okay? Comes the quick reply. Bucky sighs. Sam never fails to ask, but he doesn’t pry like Steve would, either. It’s the better of two mother hen options.

Eh. Heavy, y’know? Just need to take a day and relearn how to move.

Let me know if you need anything. I’ll cover you.

Bucky sighed and put his phone away. The clock kept ticking. A wet nose snuffled at his fingers. Bucky smiled a bit. “Dumb dog,” he said affectionately. He let his eyes fall closed as he rubbed at the mutt’s ears. He’d picked up Clint the dog at a shelter just after he got home and realized he wouldn’t go outside if he didn’t have a reason. By the fourth time Clint made a mess inside, he was fed up enough with it to start forcing himself out of bed and to the park in the mornings. The dog had done more for his recovery than Steve with his hovering ever had, more even than going to weekly therapy.

Clint huffed and whined against Bucky’s palm, pushing more insistently. With a groan, Bucky sat up and spun, letting his feet rest on the floor. Clint leaned up, putting his paws on Bucky’s knees and wagging his tail. Clint was a rough fellow, probably some kind of shepherd and terrier mix. He had a notched ear and an excellent nose. He was also capable of spotting suckers willing to feed him from six blocks out.

Bucky sat there for a while, until Clint’s whines got more insistent. He forced himself onto his feet, Clint yipping quietly, but happily at him. Slowly, Bucky ran through his morning routine. He changed out of his loose plaid sleep pants and into exercise shorts and a shirt, drank a protein shake, brushed his teeth, ran a quick comb through his hair. He sat down at the door and tugged on his pre-tied shoes. Then he sat and stared at the door. It seemed looming.

Clint barked at him and bumped against his back. Bucky sat up with a groan. “Alright, alright,” he grumbled. He grabbed Clint’s leash and clipped it onto the dog’s collar, and opened the door.

Clint happily trotted out just in front of Bucky. He didn’t tug on the leash, but he liked to take point, as Sam put it jokingly. Bucky didn’t mind. Clint knew their route for their morning run by now, so Bucky usually let the dog lead. It made it easier, on days like today.

They swung around to the nearby dog park first, so Clint could relieve himself. Then, they ran up several blocks, before looping back around to end up at the dog park. Bucky got himself a bottle of Gatorade out of the vending machine and tossed a ball around for Clint for a while, and then they headed back to his apartment to eat. If Bucky was lucky, he’d pass his neighbor on his way out to work. Tony the cute brunette usually looked somewhere between exhausted and manic, and always bent down to pat Clint before he took off. They only ever saw each other in passing, and Bucky got the feeling Tony was extremely busy. He wished he could find some kind of premise to ask the guy out, but he doubted Tony would go for it. Tony was damn good looking and smart, while Bucky was a one-armed veteran with a dopey dog. They weren’t in the same league at all.

When Tony got home, Natasha didn’t try to attack him at the door. He frowned. “Natasha? Kitty, kitty!” he wandered out to the balcony. Natasha liked to lounge in the sun. Then he checked under the bed. And above the fridge. And every hidden cranny of the bathroom. Then he started to panic. He’d lost a lot of friends when he lost his money, as he’d expected. Natasha never cared - she was a cat. As long as she could steal his tuna sandwiches and attack his feet when he got ready for bed she was totally content.

Now… now maybe she’d left him too. He supposed it was inevitable.

Tony sniffed and wiped his eyes. He could at least check the rest of the building before he broke down. He’d start on the top floor and work his way down. Cats liked high places, maybe she’d gone to the roof to chase pigeons or something.

He ran up the stairs, out of breath by the time he reached the top. He scanned the empty roof quickly. No Natasha. He made his way back down through the building, knocking on doors. Most of the people in the rooms just shook their head at him and closed the door. Mrs. Newman, in 5D, offered him cookies and told him he needed to eat more. He actually had an in-depth discussion on Schrodinger’s Cat and physics with a guy named Bruce in 4A, until the urgency of the situation caught up with him. He continued knocking on doors and talking to neighbors. No, no vicious little cat here, they all said. Haven’t seen it. Don’t care. Now shoo, random guy.

When Tony made it back to his own floor, he was almost in tears. Opening his apartment, he looked around again, grabbing a flashlight just to make sure Natasha wasn’t hiding in a corner under the bed. No cat.

He felt a few traitorous tears slip down his face and angrily brushed them away. He shouldn’t be so upset about a cat. A vicious cat. A cat that like to sit on his chest and purr when he had a panic attack.

He left his apartment and moved down the hall, pausing at his neighbor’s door. He’d never spoken much to his neighbor - James, or something? - but the man was attractive. Tony probably looked a mess right now, all red-eyed and desperate and sweaty from running up and down flights of stairs.

Tony sniffed and took a deep breath. Then he knocked. He heard muffled footsteps and the door opened. “Hi, yeah, sorry to bother you, it’s just, have you seen a cat around? She got out of my apartment somehow, and she’s not on the roof or anything - oh, she’s about this big, tiny but mighty, likes to drink the blood of strangers, and has like, really fluffy fur. And claws. Large claws. And -”

“Yeah, your cat is asleep on top of my dog,” James said. He sounded amused.

“Fuck, is it alive - uh, the dog?”

James snickered. “He’s got a couple scratches, but nothing a couple days won’t fix. Now he’s too scared to move for fear of waking up your cat. I tried to grab her -”

“Oh God. I’ll pay the medical bills, please don’t report me.”

“- and luckily,” James continued, ignoring the interruption, “I used my prosthetic to do it, so I only got scratched paint.”

“I can fix that,” Tony said at once, grabbing James’ hand and pulling it close for inspection. “Yeah, I think I have the right paint, and it’s not hard to come by anyway.”

“No worries. Deep breath, I’m a little worried you’re going to pass out.”

“Nah, I’m always like this. Yeah. It’s a thing.” Tony turned red and tried very hard not to stare at James’ pretty blue eyes, or fancy hair, or the abs very visible beneath the tank top he was wearing. He ended up staring at James’ shoes for lack of anywhere better to look. “I’ll just um. Grab Natasha and go.”

“I don’t know, she seems attached. Want to have coffee or something while we wait for her to give up her perch?”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Coffee. Yep. Sure.” Natasha could vanish all she wanted, if this was the result.

~Era

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #fluff #cute #cats #dogs #pining #flirting #natasha is a cat #clint is a dog #james rhodey rhodes #steve rogers #sam wilson #implied sam x steve #coffee #prompts #era penn #Anonymous