#mountain rescuer steve rogers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

biteofcherry · 1 year

Text

Nature’s beauty

mountain rescuer Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Your teasing comment about staying home barefoot and pregnant makes something in Steve snap. He’s now eager to turn it into reality.

warnings: consensual; barebacking; breeding kink; housewife kink; light bondage; dubiously consensual taking of risky pictures; lots of filthy talk (not even dirty, just nasty filth); mention of cumplay; established relationship; Steve’s a rescuer but who will rescue us from Steve’s hotness;

*no squirrels were harmed in the process of writing the story

“Come on. Get out of there!” You huffed, tapping your fingers against the wood of the small birdhouse installed high on the tree trunk.

It was a birdhouse - and just this morning you saw a small, colorful bird check it out - but some sneaky, red squirrel decided to squat inside it. How did it even fit through the tiny hole, you had no idea.

You noticed it as you returned from your little hike, seeing a flash of an orange fluffy tail as the squirrel stuffed its tiny butt through the hole. So you tried climbing the tree, not much successfully, and scare the intruder out.

It wouldn’t be a good house for a growing squirrel anyway.

To prop yourself, you used one of the wooden crates Steve built you for the vegetable garden that you planned on starting. Since it wasn’t enough to reach the birdhouse, you stuck another crate on top of it. The construction swayed a little, but you braced yourself against the tree trunk and reached your hand up to knock on the small wooden house.

“Your nuts won’t fit in there with you!” You called, though it was doubtful the squirrel would understand you.

The crates wobbled, but before you had a chance to stabilize yourself with both hands on the tree two strong hands gripped your hips and easily lifted you up.

“And what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” Steve’s steady voice calmed your initial panic.

You melted into his embrace as he set you down on your feet on the ground and spun around to face him. Your immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, straining on your tiptoes to greet him with a kiss.

He’s been gone for nearly two days - his usual shift stretching longer due to a crisis his team had to react to in the higher parts of the mountains.

“Steve.” You breathlessly whispered his name, smile stretching on your lips.

So close to the way you looked and sounded when he woke you up with his mouth between your thighs.

“You’re back.” You pecked his lips once again then grinned. “Just in time for eviction.”

“Eviction?” Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“A squirrel locked herself inside the birdhouse. We need to chase her away. For her own good.” You pointed up at the tree where few weeks ago Steve installed the birdhouse.

With a shake of his head and an overly dramatic sigh, Steve went to his truck to get his backpack with the climbing gear. He put the crates away - sending you a warning glare for coming up with a dangerous idea of putting your safety on top of them - then tied a rope around the tree to have a leverage for climbing. He reached the birdhouse exceptionally quickly.

Once he brought it down, you opened the front panel and shooed the squirrel away. It looked at you indignantly, holding a nut in its tiny paws, then scrambled away onto another tree near your house.

“I see you got into serious animal real estate business, even though you only got back home yourself.” Steve chuckled, pointing at your small backpack and the camera placed a few feet away.

“I went to the valley to take some shots of the early crocuses.” You beamed, picking up your things.

“But!” You kept close to Steve as you both walked up the porch and into the house. “I prepared a stew earlier and some garlic bread slices that are ready to pop into the oven.”

“Wow. You’re organized like a proper housewife.” Steve snickered, patting your ass.

“Yeah?” You glanced at him over your shoulder, waggling your eyebrows comically. “You gonna keep me barefoot and pregnant?”

“We can have that arranged.” Steve wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him. He kicked the door shut behind you and dropped his backpack to the floor.

“Ah-ah!” You quickly slipped away from his grasp.

You turned around with a grin, mischievous sparks lighting your eyes. You lifted the camera and clutched it protectively to your chest.

“Gotta put the fragile goods into safety first, before you go all patriarchal on me.”

“You’ll never forgive me that vase, won’t you?” Steve hung his head in shame, but he couldn’t suppress the proud smirk on his face.

The pretty, pink glass vase became a collateral damage when the two of you resolved a minor argument with hot, angry sex.

Steve bent you over the table and fucked you so hard that your hands flailed helplessly around and you knocked the vase off the table. As the glass shattered all over the floor, you gushed around Steve’s cock with a scream that surely carried through the mountain range.

“That orgasm was worth the sacrifice.” You laughed, disappearing into the bedroom.

“But my camera is too precious to risk it!” The cottage you and Steve were living in wasn’t tiny, but small enough that your voice easily reached other parts of the house if you raised your volume a bit.

“Duly noted!” Steve called back.

He walked into the kitchen where the faint smell of stew lingered in the air. He sat down on one of the chairs and bent down to unlace his shoes, smiling to himself as he thought of you cooking and dancing around the kitchen.

You were quite messy when you cooked, even worse when you baked. But there was no hotter sight than you naked on your knees on the tiled floor, with smears of flour on your face and then his cum dribbling down your chin.

Suddenly, provoked by your recent words, an image of you walking around the kitchen pregnant flashed through Steve’s head.

He saw you glowing and round, cutting strawberries with a smile as he whisked the batter for pancakes. You’d snack on the strawberries, claiming to be hungry and impatient to wait for breakfast. He’d take the fruit from you with a laugh, lick the sticky juice off your fingers. Then go on his knees to pleasure you until you can’t stand upright anymore.

He imagined you bent over the sink, hands in soapy water from washing dishes, as he fucked you slowly from behind - unable to keep his hands away from your pregnant belly, needing to take you as soon as he comes home from his shift.

He easily pictured you carrying a toddler on your hip, bouncing the kid lightly as you walk barefoot around the house, the swell of your belly growing with another baby.

You’d take the kids to the meadows, play with them and take stunning photographs of the nature and of the kids exploring its beauty. You’d chase away squirrels and tend to your vegetable garden - happiness radiating off your faces. You’d cook meals and try new baking recipes, and you all would eat together.

And later in the evening, when he puts the oldest kid to bed and you nurse the newborn baby to sleep, he’d take you again.

Fill you full through your needy cries, letting the nature take its course with your body as well.

Steve was so deep in this unexpected rush of craving he didn’t hear your soft footsteps at first. Only when you called his name upon entering the kitchen did he look up.

There you were - feet bare on the floor, your pants replaced with soft, cotton pajama shorts, and in his t-shirt which you liked to wear around the house.

All that was missing from the fantasy was your pregnant belly stretching the fabric of the tee.

Steve crooked a finger at you, wordlessly calling you over.

You noticed the heat in his gaze, how wider his pupils got and that his lips were slightly parted on a quickened breath. It was a look signaling some mindblowing pleasure coming your way, though you weren’t exactly sure what caused it at the moment.

You walked over, straddling Steve’s lap and placing your hands on his shoulders. His palms spread over your ass, fingers kneading your flesh and forcing you to rock against him.

Against his undoubtedly growing, impressive erection.

“I feel that you’re really happy to see me.” You grinned at Steve, but couldn’t help yourself from rubbing against him.

“Always.” Steve muttered and kissed you.

His lips were soft, but the way he used them was anything but gentle. He took possession of your mouth, tongue slipping between your parted lips to tease a moan out of your throat.

Your fingers weaved into his hair, fingernails scratching his scalp and causing Steve to purr.

He gave your asscheek a smack. Not exactly painful, but firm enough to elicit a squeak out of you and have you buck against him.

“I want to fuck you bare.” Steve growled, hips pushing up into you.

“Wha-” your mouth was still chasing his lips, your mind not yet fully catching up with his request.

Steve gave your ass another slap and tilted his head back, so your gaze focused on his eyes and what he was saying.

“I want to fuck you bare.” He repeated, his voice low and raspy with dark need.

“I want to fill you up and breed you.”

You shivered at his words. Your nipples tightened into hard peaks and your clit throbbed.

“You’re serious.” Your voice came out breathless, your throat suddenly dry.

Steve and you talked about having kids before, but it was all vague; nothing beyond agreeing that you wanted to build a family together, sometime. In the far future.

Since it was a unspecified future and your health didn’t allow for you to take pills or hormonal shots, Steve always had a strip of condoms at hand. Even in the spur of the moment quickies on your hikes, he always sheathed himself. You never took him bare.

Never felt him fill your pussy with his cum.

“What’s that thought, sweetheart?” Steve leaned forward and nipped your bottom lip when you let out an involuntary moan at the thought of being full of him.

“We’ve never done it bare.” You rubbed your heated core over his clothed cock. “I only had your cum in my mouth, or on my body.”

Corner of Steve’s mouth tilted in a smirk. He slid one of his hands to grip the back of your neck as he licked a wide stripe from your throat over your chin and up to your lips.

“I promise to still let you play with my cum from time to time, doll.” He kissed you again.

With your big eyes full of wonder, you always liked him to paint your body with white streaks of his spent. You stuck your little tongue out, swallowed him greedily, and scooped up every drop from your skin.

“But from now on, we’ll mostly fill your sweet cunt with it.”

You felt his dick twitch beneath you as he said those words. You felt your own panties and shorts dampen with your growing slick.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Steve nudged the tip of your nose with his affectionately. “Want to get pregnant?”

“Pregnant and barefoot?” You huffed a breathy laugh, realizing it was your own words from earlier today that spurred Steve’s desire.

“Well, some days are really cold out here, so I think we can skip the barefoot part.” He smiled against your lips. “But we’re definitely doing the pregnant part.”

You were constantly grinding against him, your breasts pressed and rubbed against Steve’s chest. Growing heat consumed you and you wanted, needed, Steve to sate the fire he ignited. You felt as if your body wouldn’t calm down until he spilled inside you, like he promised.

“Yes!” You captured Steve’s mouth, clinging to him even closer.

“Yes, Steve!” You head fell back as he kissed and bit down your throat. “Fuck a baby into me!”

In rushed moves, surprisingly efficient considering how both of you were trembling with impatience, you undid Steve’s pants and took him into your hand. He pushed your shorts and panties to the side.

You both moaned as you slid down his cock. The feel of his hot flesh without the latex cover made your toes curl.

It was quick and brutal, really; your thighs burned as you bounced up and down on his length. A tearing sound, as Steve yanked on your t-shirt, didn’t falter your pace.

Your climax came as dizzying, filling the house with your scream and Steve’s loud groan following soon after.

Nothing but the pounding of your hearts and heavy breathing, as you sat tangled and spent. A little mewl of surprise bubbled on your lips when you felt Steve’s cock twitching and spurting more of hot come inside your fluttering walls.

It was hotter and wetter than how it felt ever before; and the thought of Steve’s cum filling up through your cervix made your pussy clench around him.

When you slid off him a while later, a thick dollop of cum dribbled out of you. Steve put your panties back in place, cotton quickly filling and staining with the mixture of juices.

“That won’t do.” Steve frowned, as he pulled the waistband of your panties and glanced at the mess between your swollen folds.

“You’re dripping it all over and it has to take.”

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant - your brain fuzzy from the aftershocks and bliss - Steve picked you up.

He carried you to the bedroom and dropped you onto the bed. He got his t-shirt over his head in a split of a second, then moved your pliant body around, getting rid of all of your clothes as well.

“Stay here.” He pointed at you and walked out of the bedroom.

You did enjoy the view of his naked ass moving. As well the way muscles in his back flexed.

When Steve returned, he had three climbing ropes in his hands.

“What are you planning mister rescuer?” You arched a brow.

He merely winked at you, joining you on the bed and straddling you. He weaved the blue cord around your wrists, binding them to the headboard. One of the red ropes tied around your left ankle; the other around the right.

You expected Steve to tie your legs to the foot of the bed, but instead he bent your legs at the knees and pushed them up toward your chest and slightly to the sides. The ends of the rope he tied to the headboard as well.

Once he was done, your breath was quickened again, as your vulnerable exposed position registered.

“Now,” Steve knelt back and ran a finger up your ass, “all my cum will stay nicely snug in your pussy.”

He scooped whatever dribbled out of you and pushed it back into your quivering cunt. He was right. In this improvised bondage version of a mating press, your hips were tilted up enough for the gravity to work in favor of impregnation.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve looked at you, love and desire shining in his eyes.

From your gorgeous face, hair sticking to your sweaty skin; your breasts shaking with each breath and your lovely legs strained and bound; to your gorgeous ass and glistening, swollen folds.

A thick trickle of his cum lingered just below your leaking hole. He moved his hand slowly up your ass, reaching up to push that one drop back inside you.

“I wish I could preserve this image forever.” He murmured.

Then paused.

Slowly, Steve’s gaze shifted from your pussy to your face. His eyes darkened and a naughty, evil really, smirk curved his mouth.

“What are you thinking, Steve?” You asked warily, partly scared of his wicked idea and partly excited.

Steve got off the bed, but returned rather quickly.

With your camera in his hands.

“You can’t be serious.” You squeaked, squirming against your bonds. But they were fucking secured top notch, you were unable to even pull your legs closer together.

“Why not?” Fingers of his left hand returned to your heated skin while he held the camera in his right hand. “You take photographs of nature. What’s more natural than this?”

He traced one of your swollen folds and pulled it slightly to the side, exposing your hole and the white cream filling it.

A shutter clicked. First photo of your pussy saved on the memory card.

Steve took a few more photos, from different angles. Some close-ups of his cum, some a wider perspective including your stretched body visible between your spread legs.

He moved closer, kneeling up and positioning his hardened cock between your sopping folds.

He moaned as he watched his dick slide back and forth; looked up at your face and held your gaze when you whimpered as the head of his cock bumped against your swollen clit repeatedly.

“What’s more natural than a pretty cunt serving its purpose?” Steve rasped out, guiding the tip into your opening.

He angled the camera again, snapping a picture of your pussy opening up for him. Then a series of photos as he slowly pushed inside.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re taking me so good.” Steve bit down on his lip as he thrust deeper. “Such a fucking beautiful sight.”

He flipped the camera function to video, recording as he buried himself in your wet cunt. Your wrecked moan at the stretch, too. And the squelching sound of a filled pussy.

Steve’s free hand rested on your mound, thumb drawing the hood over your clit up and then resting on the hardened nub. Your hips bucked when he started rubbing.

He tilted the camera up, making sure to register all of your body before focusing on your face. You whined his name aloud.

When you noticed the camera pointed at you, you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side embarrassed.

“Don’t be shy on me, sweetheart.” Steve cooed, maintaining a steady pace. “You’re stunning. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. And your pretty, little pussy-”

He returned the lens between your spread thighs, recording every detail of his cock driving into you.

His dick shined with your juices and remnants of his cum. Your folds were puffed and darkened, and your clit crushed under his big thumb. Your wetness smeared around, glistening on your ass and thighs, as well shimmering on the hair above Steve’s cock.

“She’s swallowing me, doll. Greedy, little pussy.” Steve growled, picking up his rhythm.

“What she’s hungry for, sweetheart? Huh?” Though his hand was shaking slightly, he managed to move the camera so it was recording your face again.

“Tell me, what she’s hungry for?” He delivered a firm smack atop your clit that made you squeak and clench around him.

“It’s hungry for your cum!” You cried out.

You felt the heat engulf you whole, felt it almost burn the skin off your cheeks from the inside.

Steve always had a penchant for dirty talk, but it wasn’t always as nasty. Just a few lines here and there. Something about fucking you bare, trying to knock you up, made him wilder. And he forced you to interact along with him.

“Wants to be filled?” Steve’s raspy voice prompted again, another slap stinging your clit.

“It wants to be filled so bad!” Your need overcame the embarrassment.

With your eyes still closed, you babbled all the filth you were shy to admit, but everything you knew Steve wanted to hear.

“Wants you to fuck it hard and come inside. Please, Steve. Need you- Need you to make me take it! Fill my belly and make it swell!”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Steve nearly came at the sputter of your dirty words. “My sweet, fucking, dirty girl.”

He put the camera down on the side of the bed. He didn’t bother to switch it off.

It recorded a slightly blurred angle of Steve’s hips driving into you, his balls slapping against your butt as he leaned fully on top of you and bottomed out.

It recorded the sounds of your bodies - wet squelching, skin slapping, Steve’s heavy groans and your high pitched cries; and filthy demands.

“I know you’re close, sweetheart.” Steve stretched himself over you and propped his weight on his forearms on both sides of your head.

“I am! I am, I’m so close, Steve!”

Your body wanted to move along with his, to rock up into him and touch him, but your tied limbs prevented you from doing so. You could only lay there and take whatever Steve gave you. However he gave it.

“I’ll get you there, I promise.” He nipped along your jaw, lavishing each sting with a lick of his tongue. “First, though-” he paused to kiss you fully.

A surprisingly thorough kiss, considering how frantically his hips were pumping you.

Steve’s voice turned into a low, gravelly growl.

“Tell me your purpose, my sweet fuck doll.”

So close to the edge that your toes were curling, you weren’t resilient enough to fight for more dignity. You knew what hot, humiliating words Steve fished for.

And you knew you could scream them out, because once he untied you and you left the bedroom, Steve would respect you like he always did. He would worship the ground you walk on and cherish you. Give you the stars, if he could.

“My p-purpose-” your voice choked on a moan as Steve angled his hips, driving his cock into that spongy, oversensitive spot inside you.

With a whine you dropped your gaze down, unable to look right into Steve’s eyes as you cried out the words.

“To be bred! Fuuuuck. To be bred and have your babies! Be y-your, ah, little housewife. To serve you, serv- Fuck! Steve!”

“I got you, sweetheart.” Steve groaned, leaning his forehead against yours.

He slowed his pace, but each snap of his hips drove his cock into you deep and rough. Skilled, coarse fingers maneuvered between your bodies, finding your clit.

A few strokes over your nub combined with the incessant pounding into your sweet spot were enough to push you over the edge.

You clenched your hands around the ropes that tied your wrists to the headboard as you shattered. Steve’s choked, low moans lost in the sound of your keening, as he came right after you.

Steve dragged his lips across your cheek toward your lips. Kissed you slowly, and wet. Your ragged breaths mingled, a string of saliva stretching between your mouths and popping.

He remained buried inside you, his cock twitching and spurting more cum into your clenching channel.

“I fucking love you.” Steve breathed heavily, a huff of chuckle at the end of his confession.

“Mhmm. I love you, too.” You opened your eyes halfway. “You perv.”

You both laughed, a quiet, intimate sound between lovers that knew each other to the tiniest bone.

With a displeased groan, Steve pushed himself up. He was careful as he sat back, not wanting to slip out of your pussy too quickly.

His gaze focused on your joined bodies as he withdrew inch by inch. His cock glistened with thick cream; your walls fluttered at the friction. He admired your open hole for a moment then squeezed your puffed folds between his fingers.

“Gotta keep it in, sweetheart.” Steve tugged on your folds lightly, keeping them pinched between his fingers.

“I could make you come again. Help your pussy swallow more of it into your womb.” His eyes, still hazy with desire, drifted back to your face.

You groaned. Your cunt clenched at the mere idea of another orgasm shattering your body.

“How about we leave it as it is for now?” You wiggled your butt as much as you could in your restraints. “You can do more nasty things to me in the upcoming days.”

Because you knew if you allowed Steve to make you come again now, he’d use his mouth. And if he used his mouth, he would switch into the overstimulation mindset - he always did that when he went down on you.

You were plenty ruined today without that.

“As you wish.” Steve sighed, with exaggerated disappointment.

“But I’m keeping your legs tied up for a bit longer.” He announced, releasing your folds and patting them less than gently.

You squeaked and glared at him, but it only made him grin.

“Better untie my hands.” You said, making a comically frowny face. “So I can call for the mountain rescuing service to save me from a brutal bear’s captivity.”

Steve laughed and plopped down on his ass, then stretched himself on the bed crosswise. He reached for the camera and finally turned recording off.

He did switch to a browsing mode, though.

“Stop working yourself up again!” You reprimanded him when you realized why Steve moaned suddenly. “Untie me and bring me food.”

“Isn’t it your purpose to serve me food, little housewife?” Steve propped himself on his elbows and looked at you with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t do that while I’m bound.” You smiled sweetly.

Steve moved up and leaned over you, untying the ropes around your hands in two swift moves. He rubbed the skin on your wrists then placed a soft kiss on each.

“Hmm, brutal bear has to think of ways to keep you full and still able to do your housewife duties.” He winked at you.

“Yes, yes, can you think of that while we’re eating?” You rolled your eyes.

As on cue, your stomach rumbled.

“You stew here.” Steve moved down your body and kissed your abdomen, then hopped off the bed. “I’ll reheat everything. Want some wine, too?”

Slipping his pants back on, Steve left the bedroom. And you inside it.

With your legs still up and spread, your hips tilted up and cum brewing in your cunt.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You yelled after him.

His response was an impudent snicker.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #mountain rescuer steve rogers #mountain rescuer steve rogers x reader #steve fic: nature's beauty

7K notes · View notes

eralen · 1 year

Note

Steve will rest your weak ankles on his broad shoulders... 😏

😂😂😂

It's really the only way. 🤣🤣🤣

#mountain rescuer!steve #mountainrescuer!steve #steve rogers #biteofcherry

1 note · View note

penpatronuswhump · 4 years

Photo

WHUMPTOBER 2020

No. 4

Fandom: Avengers

Whumpee: Tony Stark

Caregivers: Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers

Title: We’ll Do That Together, Too

By: PenPatronus // PenPatronusAooO

The arms dealers built their camouflaged headquarters into the side of a Rocky Mountain cliff face like they were Pueblo Indians. It was three stories high and a football field and a half wide. The only way to enter the facility was through the camouflaged helipad on top of the mountain. It was guarded heavily, but the cliffside above a raging river wasn’t. And that was why, at Midnight, the Quinjet hovered above the river on autopilot while Thor flew the other five Avengers up to the lowest patio one by one. The weapons the arms dealers were selling to terrorists were supposedly built from Chitauri technology. They had to take the stockpile out and arrest the bad guys that night before anyone else got hurt.

Steve crouched behind a picnic table on the patio and waited patiently while Clint put arrows into the cameras. Bruce sat beside him, wringing his hands. Thor was on the other side, impatiently twirling his hammer. A perturbed Natasha grabbed his wrist. Her silent glare made him stop. On Steve’s other side, Tony was using his Iron Man suit to scan the base. “We should split up,” he advised. “Each pair can take a floor.”

Steve agreed. “Barton, Romanoff, go up top. Stark and I will take the center floor. Thor, Bruce, you stick to the basement. Remember – capture the arms dealers and collect all the weapons. Meet back here when your floor is cleared. Let’s do this quick and quiet.” The team went to work. Sticking to the shadows, avoiding the cameras, quiet as possible to not disturb whatever arms dealers were still awake, Clint and Natasha raced up the west staircase. Tony and Steve ascended the east and Thor and Bruce went straight in.

It was Thor who tripped the first wire.

An actual wire – not even a laser – crisscrossed the entrance to the cafeteria on the bottom floor. Simultaneously, alarms blared across the entire facility while the bomb exploded in the cafeteria. It was designed to take out the entire first floor and whoever happened to be on it – friend or enemy. Thor, Banner, hundreds of potatoes, the cafeteria, a basketball court, half a dozen bad guys and everything the facility had in storage fell off the cliffside and barreled towards the river. The two Avengers disappeared into the surf.

On the top floor, though deafened by the sudden alarms and the thunderous sound of the first floor disintegrating, Clint and Natasha still barged into the first room they found, which happened to be security central. Natasha used bullets and bolos to take out and capture the first three men while Clint’s arrows took down the next three. Then, while Clint guarded the door, Nat got into the computer system and cut the power for the entire base. The two remaining floors went quiet and dark. Only a few emergency lights remained on – flashing strobe lights. When security teams arrived, the rest of the base having woken up, they aimed guns at the two Avengers but couldn’t seem to hit them. In the blinks between the strobing lights, Hawkeye and the Black Widow cartwheeled and rolled, shot their weapons with a precision the average arms dealers’ goons didn’t have, and managed, in under ten minutes, to take out all 60 bad guys on the floor. A personal best, they agreed. They enjoyed their victory for half a moment before they went looking for the weapons.

It was Clint who tripped the second wire. An actual wire – not even a laser – surrounded the wide staircase that led up to the helipad. “Ah, shit,” Clint said, and Natasha sighed, and the bomb under security central exploded. The floor disintegrated. The Avengers didn’t mind, though, because they’d already sprinted up the staircase and out onto the helipad… Where a dozen armed guards were waiting for them.

The top floor landed on the middle floor – landed on Tony and Steve. Tony, mostly, because when it happened he pushed Cap to the floor and covered his body with the Iron Man armor. When the dust settled, Steve found Tony tented over him, the armor holding up half the ceiling, which threatened to squish them both. “Crawl!” Tony ordered. Cap obeyed, Army-crawling towards the only light he saw. Tony left the armor behind, leaving it to hold the place up while he and Steve escaped. The pair ended up on another patio. Below them was the river. Behind them was the ceiling. Underneath them, the foundation was crumbling. They had, maybe, a minute.

The pair looked down. The first floor had fallen directly onto the Quinjet, which was in pieces and floating away down the river. There was no sign of Thor or Bruce or the Hulk. Steve examined the distance down to the water. “That might be 200 feet,” he estimated.

“People have survived dropping from 245 feet into water,” Tony remembered. The floor rumbled. A crack skittered across the concrete. “Of course, they didn’t have a building immediately collapse on them.” The two Avengers looked up, down, and around. Barton and Romanoff were MIA. They had no jet, no Hulk, and the Iron Man armor was half a minute away from crumpling under the weight of the building.

Steve swallowed, turned to Tony, and held out his hand. “Together?”

Tony took Steve’s hand and held on tight. “Nice knowing you.”

“Same.”

“Together, then. On three.” The two men counted at the same time: “One, two, three!” and jumped.

Barton and Romanoff took out the dozen armed guards almost flawlessly. Nat took a bullet to her upper arm and Clint got stabbed in the thigh when one of his own arrows went askew and ricocheted off the black helicopter. “You never miss!” Nat said as the pair scrambled into the machine. “I brag about that all the time!”

Clint didn’t bother to put on a safety belt when he got into the pilot’s seat. Under them, the concrete was starting to falter. The helipad was about to collapse along with the rest of the structure. “I’m not perfect!” he yelled over the sound of the propellers revving up.

“He’s perfect! Why do you think they call him Hawkeye, I’d say,” said Nat from the copilot’s position.

“I will throw you out of this helicopter!” Barton yelled.

“If he misses I’ll eat my hand, I’d say.”

The helicopter lifted into the air less than five seconds before the base collapsed.

Steve lost Tony’s hand when they hit the water, feet first. He’d tried to hang on – ordered himself to – because if they were going to die, they should die together. They’d done everything else together for so long that it seemed fitting. But, he lost Tony’s hand. He lost him.

And then Bucky was there. He was pulling him out of the water by his collar just like he had when Steve had fallen out of the Helicarrier. Wait – no – Steve realized. Bucky wasn’t there, and his rescuer was wearing a red cape and carrying a hammer. Thor dragged Steve out of the water and propped him up against the opposite cliff face. “Where are the others?” he asked. The god was soaking wet and he coughed between each word. “Where are they?”

Steve felt like his lungs were full of sand. All he could do was shake his head and cough. His whole body was one bruise. The water felt like concrete when he landed. “Tony,” he choked. “Where’s Tony?”

Thor collapsed down to one knee. “I don’t know… I don’t know.”

A roar came from the east. Both Avengers perked up at the sound of the Hulk. They looked downstream and saw him pulling something out of the water. The dark figure wasn’t moving. Hulk dropped him on the shoreline and took a sniff. Then he leaned back and roared again, the sound shaking the cliffs. Then Hulk looked down at the figure, snorted impatiently, and nudged him with his big green foot. By the time Steve and Thor raced over to Hulk, he’d reverted back into Banner.

Bruce started CPR on Tony.

“Uhhh,” Steve groaned, and he collapsed down to an Indian-style sit. “God, Tony…”

Tony’s left leg was obviously broken. It was bent at the knee, but also slightly at the shin. The sight of it made Steve nauseated. Tony’s face and neck were a cross between bruise-purple and drowned-blue. Something sharp had hit him in the back of the head, and blood was pooling beneath it. Pooling too slowly. His heart wasn’t beating.

“Dammit!” Bruce hissed as he did compressions. “Dammit, Tony, dammit, come on – come on!” Bruce briefly rolled him over smacked his back, forcing a little bit more water out of Tony’s mouth and nose. He breathed into him, then started up the compressions again. Water rained down on Tony’s face from Bruce’s wet hair.

“This is unbearable,” Thor whispered. “Wake up, Stark.”

Steve put his palm on Tony’s forehead and gently rearranged his hair. He flicked aside a sticky rock and a strand of grass. He’d never noticed before, but Tony really did have stress wrinkles and discoloration around his eyes. Of course he did – how could he not? Stark as astounding, Steve realized. What didn’t he do? What hadn’t he done for his team – for the world? Steve suddenly wanted to thank him – wanted him to wake up so he could thank him for – for everything. But Tony’s lungs wouldn’t breathe, and his heart wouldn’t beat…

Bruce suddenly put his lips right next to Tony’s ear. “You listen to me, you son of a bitch,” he all but shouted. “We need you, Tony. You do NOT get to give up – you don’t have that luxury. The Avengers can’t function without you – this world can’t, anymore. Now breathe, you asshole, breathe!”

When Tony finally did breathe – another 30 seconds of CPR later – it was a gasping, choking, desperate series of inhales. He rolled and vomited water right into Bruce’s lap, then collapsed back and would’ve passed out again if Steve hadn’t ordered him not to. Tony’s eyes fixated on Steve’s like they were an anchor. “That’s right,” Steve said, encouraging. “You’re going to be all right. We’re here.”

“Ribs… Broken…” Tony sputtered. The pain pushed tears out of his eyes. “Leg…”

“I know.” Steve’s hand returned to Tony’s forehead. “We’ll get you out of here, I promise. We’ll get you home.”

Tony suddenly reached up with both hands and latched onto Steve’s left arm. While Steve clenched his muscles and held his arm steady, Tony, grunting, pulled his upper body right into Steve’s lap. He curled up there, soaking wet, exhausted, pale, and still coughing, and shut his eyes. Steve wrapped both of his strong arms around Tony and held him close.

A helicopter flew overhead, low enough that they could see Barton piloting it. Nat dropped a steel chain ladder down. Steve and Bruce climbed up it while Thor carried Tony. The Avengers escaped.

Thor laid Tony down on the bench so that his head was in Steve’s lap and his feet were in Bruce’s. “Hospital, Barton!” Steve ordered the archer. He turned his attention back to Tony, hand on his forehead once more. He remembered what he wanted to say when Tony was dead. “Thank you.”

Tony’s dazed eyes blinked up at him. “For what” he croaked.

“Just…” Steve shook his head. He almost laughed. “For you.”

The End

6 notes · View notes

weekendwarriorblog · 5 years

Text

WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND July 4, 2019 - SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME, MIDSOMMAR, MARIANNE & LEONARD

It’s the 4thof July weekend, which is often the bane of my existence because I’m never invited to do anything with anyone. Fortunately, I’m going back to Ohio for the first time in nine months so I’ll be spending this 4thof July with family, and hopefully, that will include some movie-watching.

The movie I’m most excited about seeing again is SPIDERMAN: FAR FROM HOME (Sony), the sequel directed by Jon Watts that returns Tom Holland to the Spidey-suit and brings back all of his friends and classmates, as well as throwing Jake Gyllenhaal’s Mysterio into the mix. You can read how much I enjoyed the movie in my review below, and also, check out my interview with the director, also below.

MY REVIEW OF SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME

INTERVIEW WITH JON WATTS ON THE BEAT

The other wide release this weekend is Ari Aster’s sophomore feature MIDSOMMAR (A24), starring Florence Pugh, Jack Reynor (Sing Street) and Will Poulter as a group of friends who travel to Sweden to observe a Midsommar ritual held by the community of their friend, but things are not what they seem. Before you can say “The Wicker Man,” they’re finding out the real intentions for their hosts.

Mini-Review: Like most, I loved Ari Aster’s Hereditary and saw it as the advent of a fantastic new vision in filmmaking and horror, specifically. Whenever a filmmaker delivers such an amazing debut, his or her follow-up is going to be eyed with equal parts anticipation and scrutiny, and that’s truly been the case with Midsommar.

Like Aster’s previous film, this one begins with the death of family members, in this case those of Florence Pugh’s Dani early on in the movie. Dani’s boyfriend Christian (Jack Reynor from Sing Street) is ready to break up with Dani, because he can’t handle her family drama. At the same time, Christian has been invited by his friend Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) to go to his small Swedish community to take part in the Midsommar ritual along with friends Josh and Mark (Will Poulter). When Dani finds out about it and Christian invites her (think she’ll say “No’ – she doesn’t) – it soon becomes obvious Dani will be the fifth wheel threatening to bring down the mood. That’s okay because Pelle’s friendly community might have ulterior motives for the visitors.

There’s a lot to like about Midsommar, particularly Aster’s clever way of exploring The Wicker Man territory in a new way that offers terror and horror often in the brightest of daylight, an achievement in itself. Other than the film’s look and the production design that went into making it such a unique-looking visual film, it’s hard to ignore the fact that this is the exact same “stupid young people on vacation getting slaughtered” motif we’ve seen in so many horror films from Eli Roth’s Hostel movies to Touristas to so many more.

For the most part, Aster has another strong cast -- Florence Pugh is quite fantastic in a very different role, although she does a lot of crying in this movie. Jack Reynor could begin stepping into a few of Chris Pratt’s roles without anyone batting an eye, because he has similar rugged looks and charm. I actually liked Will Poulter’s obnoxious American to the point where when he mysteriously vanishes halfway through the movie, it loses quite a bit.

Beyond that, Midsommar explores some of the same themes Aster explored in his first movie, including death and grief and family squabbles with one character crying a lot, and of course, diabolical cult rituals and lots of nudity. Aster also use the same upside-down camera shot he used in Hereditary, which itself was borrowed from Darren Aronofsky. Maybe I’d have liked Midsommar more if it didn’t feel like Aster was retreading familiar territory. I do have to wonder if Aster has ever had therapy, because he certainly seems to have issues, maybe even with a sister, driving him to kill sisters in both his films?

Owing as much to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as the more obvious Wicker Man, MIdsommar is still not your typical horror movie by any means. If your favorite part of Hereditary was its crazy ending and you didn’t think it was crazy enough, then Midsommar is the movie for you!

Rating: 7/10

LIMITED RELEASES

Because it’s the 4thof July this week, we’re getting far fewer limited releases but I do want to call attention to a couple docs opening this week.

But first, I want to draw attention to a movie that opened at the Film Forum last week, Lila Avilés’ The Chambermaid, an amazing portrait of a Mexican maid in a high-end hotel as she goes through the day-to-day while trying to achieve her goals and dreams, all which seem to move further and further away. I was a fan of last year’s Romaand though The Chambermaid is a different type of movie, it features another amazing performance by an indigenous Mexican, Gabriela Cartol, who had appeared in a couple other movies before, but she really keeps the viewer drawn to the movie and the things that she goes through. At times, it feels like there’s no way for her to fulfill those dreams, and it’s something to which we can all relate.

A doc that’s a must see for all Leonard Cohen fans is Nick Broomfield’s MARIANNE & LEONARD: WORDS OF LOVE (Roadside Attractions), an amazing look at the relationship between Cohen and Marianne Ihlen, the Norwegian woman with whom he lived on the isle of Hydra in Greece, one of his early muses and the inspiration for the song “Goodbye, Marianne.” It’s an amazing film by the award-winning documentarian that has a lot of revelations, including the fact that Broomfield as friends with Marianne going back to the ‘60s, making him the perfect filmmaker to tackle the subject. It opens in select cities including the Angelika Film Center in New York Friday.

Opening at the IFC Center in New York is Rob Fruchtman and Steve Lawrence’s The Cat Rescuers about New York City’s 500,000 street cats and a group of volunteers who go through Brooklyn getting these cats fixed and returning them to their colonies or getting them adopted. It’s a movie that cat lovers will probably enjoy similar to the film Kedi from a few years back, but it’s also kind of sad when you realize that some of this cat population will have to be put down, because cats are adorable and you don’t want them to die.

Opening at the City Cinemas Village East in New York almost two years since premiering at TIFF is Tali Shalom-Ezer’s My Days of Mercy, starring Ellen Page and Amy Seimetz (Pet Sematary) as sisters Lucy and Martha who attend state executions to demonstrate against the death penalty. At one such event, Lucy meets Mercy (Kate Mara), the daughter of a police officer whose partner was killed by a man about to be put to death. They quickly bond before Lucy confesses that her own father (Elias Koteas) is on Death Row.

The only other limited release this weekend is Frédéric Petitjean’s directorial debut Cold Blood (Screen Media), starring Jean Reno as Henry, a hitman who is living in a cabin by a lake in the Rocky Mountains when he encounters a young woman who survived a snowmobile accident and has to decide whether to save her life. It opens in select cities and On Demand Friday.

STREAMING AND CABLE

There aren’t any big movie releases on Netflix this weekend but that’s because Season 3 of Stranger Things will premiere on the 4thof July, and I expect many people will be spending the early part of the weekend watching that.

REPERTORY

METROGRAPH (NYC):

Unfortunately, I missed something last week in terms of repertory series at the Metrograph as I didn’t realize that former Village Voice critic J. Hoberman was doing another series in conjunction with his latest bookMake My Day: Movie Culture in the Age of Reagan. The series Reagan at the Movies: Found Illusionsincludes a mixed array of films including 1951’s The Day the Earth Stood Still, a new restoration of Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985), Clint Eastwood’s Firefox (1983), Hal Ashby’s Being There(1979) starring Peter Sellers and more!

Also on Wednesday, Metrograph will be premiering a special 20thanniversary restoration of Takashi Miike’s horror classic Audition, which I think is so perfect for the remake treatment due to the #MeToo movement and its implications. Can you imagine how well a revenge thriller about a young woman getting revenge on sleazy movie producer types would go over in this day and age? Call me, Jason Blum!

This week’s Late Nites at Metrograph is Penelope Spheeris’ Suburbia (1983) while the Playtime: Family Matinees is Robert Zemeckis’ Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988).

THE NEW BEVERLY (L.A.):

Weds has a special matinee screening of the Bond film From Russia With Love (1963) and Tarantino’s theater isn’t taking off on the 4th of July. In fact, it’s holding a special event screening of Red Dawn (1984) and Rocky IV (1985) (You might notice a theme there… USA! USA!) Weds and Thursday are also double features of The Happening (1967) with Anthony Quinn and Land Raiders (1970), starring Telly Savalas. The Friday/Saturday double features are the 1966 sci-fi classic Fantastic Voyage with 100 Rifles. The weekend’s KIDDE MATINEE is the Disney classic The Love Bug (1968), while Friday’s midnight screening is Tarantino’s Django Unchained and Saturday at midnight is a 35mm print of Richard Rush’s Getting Straight (1970), starring Elliot Gould and Candice Bergen. Sunday and Monday is a double feature of Dean Martin’s Murderer’s Row (1966) with Ann-Margret’s Kitten with a Whip (1964).

FILM FORUM (NYC):

Elaine May’s Mikey and Nicky (1976) gets a new 4k restoration that begins on Friday, plus May’s 1971 film A New Leaf will also screen through the weekend. The restoration of Jennie Livingston’s Paris Burning continues to play through the weekend, while the Film Forum will also continue showing Elaine May’s Ishtar and the Coen’s The Big Lebowski through the 4thof July.

EGYPTIAN THEATRE (LA):

The Friday after the 4thof July sees a double feature of Steven Spielberg’s Jaws (1975) and Hard Ticket to Hawaii (1987), co-presented by Beyond Fest. Saturday is a screening of the classic Lawrence of Arabia (1962) in 70mm, while Sunday sees a double feature of The Return of the Living Dead (1985) and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (1986).

AERO (LA):

Oh, look… Spielberg’s Jaws is playing here, too… but on Wednesday. Director Peter Hunt will be on hand Friday to screen his movie musical 1776 (1972). On Saturday, you can see a double feature of Jaws 3-D (1983) and A*P*E (1976), co-presented by Cinematic Void, and on Sunday is a Baseball Double Feature of 1993’s The Sandlot and Penny Marshall’s A League of Their Own (1992), both in 35mm!

MUSEUM OF THE MOVING IMAGE (NYC):

MOMI is having another screening of Stephen Frears’ My Beautiful Laundrette (1985), starring Daniel Day Lewis on Saturday, wrapping up Grit and Glitter: Before and After Stonewall. This weekend’s See It Big! Action movies are Robocop (1987) on Friday and the Wachowskis’ The Matrix on Saturday and Sunday.

QUAD CINEMA (NYC):

Opening on Friday is a 4k restoration of the Director’s Cut of Daniel Vigne’s The Return of Martin Guerre (1982), starring Gerard Depardieu.

ROXY CINEMA (NYC)

On Saturday, you can see Alfred Hitchcock’s terror masterpiece Psycho (1960) on the big screen again!

LANDMARK THEATRES NUART (LA):

Friday’s midnight screening is Tommy Wiseau’s midnight movie “classic” The Room (2003).

Next week, things slow down with two lower-profile films, the comedy Stuber, starring Kumhail Nanjiani and Dave Bautista, and the alligator horror film Crawl, from Alexandra Aja and Sam Raimi.

#SpiderManFarFromHome Midsommar TheChambermaid MarianneLeonard Movies Reviews

1 note · View note