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#Avengers ff
amasterpieceofmadness · 2 months
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there for you – bucky b.
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pairings Bucky Barnes x reader
summary You are feeling down lately and Bucky seems to catch up on that. He is worried about you and tries to comfort you. As you find out, all you needed was a big hug (and some kisses) from Bucky
wordcount 2.2k
warnings fluff, little bit of anxiety, crying, hugs and kisses, confessions
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You sigh, trying to shut the annoying high-pitched tone of your alarm clock out by burying your face into the pillow. It feels like you just fell asleep a couple of minutes ago, and in reality, it wasn’t much more, as you already need to get up again. A sigh leaves your mouth once again as you turn around and finally switch off the alarm clock. You are really considering if you should get up but you know Cap is going to hold you a lecture if you miss training one more time. So, finally you get up from your comfy bed and start to get ready with as less effort as needed.
As you walk towards the kitchen to get your cup of coffee before training you zone out. You’ve been distant lately, constantly thinking about stuff that’s worrying you and plaguing your mind. There’s no way to shut it off though, you tried a couple of times already.
So, you walk into the kitchen and greet everyone there with a simple “morning”, before pouring yourself a cup of hot coffee. You don’t bother to talk with someone, you don’t even have the energy to do that right now.
“Everything okay?” your friend Natasha walks up to you concerned.
You simply nod, taking a large sip of coffee. “Yeah, just didn’t sleep well”
Nat doesn’t ask further but she doesn’t believe you either. Neither does the rest of the Avengers, or Bucky. He sits at the table, drinking his own coffee and watching you silently, concern on his face. He noticed your change in behavior and his worry for you is growing stronger by day. He doesn’t want to talk to you in front of all the others so he just lets it be for now.
Steve enters the room “Good morning, ready for our training session?” His eyes land on you and he smiles softly. “Hey, good to see you here again. Let’s get it on!”
Everyone nods and together you walk off to the training room, preparing for an upcoming mission. You try your best to stay focused, and it works rather well. Bucky keeps a close look at you but also keeps his distance. You catch him staring a few times, but try to ignore it, even though your cheeks turn slightly red.
As soon as the training is finished the thoughts come back flooding to your mind. You walk back to your room to get a shower, trying to free your mind. Suddenly you hear a knock at your door. You walk over and open it, setting on a small fake smile.
“Hey” Bucky flashes you a soft smile, leaning against your door frame. He looks you up from top to bottom, noticing your comfy clothes and still wet hair. “Did I disturb you?”
“No, don’t worry. How can I help you?” You ask as casual as possible, crossing your arms in front of your body.
Bucky takes a deep breath, his hands in his pockets. “I just… Actually, I… I just wanted to check in on you. You alright?”
To say you are surprised is an understatement. You never expected him to ask such a question but somehow you feel a strange warmth inside of you at his care. “Uhm, yeah, yeah, I’m alright. Why do you ask?” You let out a soft chuckle.
The super soldier shrugs a little and scratches his head. “You just seem a bit distant lately. So I thought maybe… maybe something is off” He looks so cute like this, standing in front of your door. This is a side of Bucky not many get to see.
“Oh, don’t worry. I just… I didn’t sleep well for a couple of days. But everything’s fine” You smile softly at him to reassure him.
Bucky thinks about your answer for a couple of minutes, not sure whether he should believe you or not. Finally, he decides that there’s no need to push you so he lets it down and nods, looking down. “Alright” he sighs and looks back up at you. “Alright. Just… You know, I’m here if you need anything. Okay?”
As you look at him you can’t help but crack a small, sincere smile. This is definitely something you never expected from anyone, nor him. You can feel warmth spreading inside you and you are almost tempted to ask for a hug. But you quickly shake that thought off of your head. “Thanks, Bucky”
With another smile and wave of his hand Bucky leaves you to yourself again and you close the door of your room. But the smile quickly fades as the thoughts come back to you mind, drowning you. With a sigh you let yourself onto the bed.
A couple of days like this pass and Bucky gets more worried about you. One evening he catches you in the compound living room. He walks inside and notices you standing by the window all in the dark. Bucky doesn’t even bother to turn on the lights.
“Hey” he greets with a calm and soft voice.
You jump slightly, deep in thought, as you turn around surprised to see Bucky standing there, leaning against a counter. “Hey”
“It’s late” Bucky states simply, glancing at the clock and then back at you. It’s almost midnight.
“Yeah, true” my response is just as simple. “What are you doing up?”
Bucky shrugs and gives you a small smirk. “Always been a night owl”
You give him a slight smile in return and glance back out the window, taking a deep breath.
After a few minutes of silence Bucky is the first one to speak up again. “What’s on your mind?”
With raised eyebrows you look at him, but as soon as you see his concerned and serious expression you know there is no way to lie to him. You sigh before finally responding “A lot”
Bucky nods understandingly. If anyone can understand what it’s like to have a heavy mind it’s him after all. And he understands that you might not want to talk about it, or, that you probably don’t even know what you should talk about. So, he doesn’t put too much pressure on you there. “I meant what I said”
Once again you give him a confused look, not knowing what he means right now.
Bucky seems to notice your uncertainty and explains himself further. “What I told you a couple of days ago in your room. That I’m here for your” His look is serious, leaving no hint of joke. He really means it.
And as much as you appreciate this act and as much as you want to thank him and give him a smile, you can’t. All you are trying is to not break in front of him, to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall down your cheeks. You don’t answer him, instead you just look down onto the floor, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t dare to look at him, knowing that it might be too much.
He just stands there, watching your reaction. Bucky decides on what to do and finally speaks up again, his voice ever so soft and caring. “Come here”
You look up to meet Bucky’s eyes, his arms wide open for you to fall into them and let him hug you. For a second you don’t know what you should do. But your feet are bringing you closer to him and finally you stand right in front of him. Slowly you let your arms sink and his loving look is just making it worse for you to contain yourself.
After a minute of just looking at each other you find yourself in his embrace. His arms are tightly wrapped around you, holding you close. Your head resting against his bulky chest, your own arms wrapped around his middle. Tears fall down your cheeks silently, wetting his shirt. But Bucky doesn’t care. All he cares for right now is you in his arms. He doesn’t care whether is shirt is getting damp or not, or if he feels slightly uncomfortable being so close to someone. He wants to be there for you, to give you comfort and reassurance. He wants you to feel better, to know that someone is there for you when you are feeling down. And that is exactly what he is doing right now.
Bucky’s hands are softly stroking your back up and down, his chin resting on your head. He can smell your sweet scent and one of his hands finds its way up to your hair, pressing you closer to him. A strange warmth fills him as he holds you like this.
You on the other hand feel yourself calming down after some time. You feel safe and secure and it seems that a hug is all you needed for the last couple of days. Your body starts to relax in his embrace and your tears have almost stopped. But is it really just the hug that makes you feel at ease again, or is it the person who gives you that hug? His strong arms wrapped tightly around you, holding and caressing you, his soft breathing calming and hearing his heartbeat giving you reassurance.
Bucky had closed his eyes by now, just feeling you in his arms, feeling your muscles starting to relax. And it makes him happy that he is the reason why you calmed down a little. He is proud of himself that he could help you and he is not planning on letting you go anytime soon. He wants to stay like this forever, starting to feel comfortable in this position. He should have done this a lot earlier, when he visited you in your room for example. It would have made you and him feel better.
You two stand there for a while, holding each other close. You pull away slightly, not sure when to let go or if Bucky is still comfortable holding you. Your arms are still around him as you look up at Bucky’s face. He looks down at you too and gives you a soft smile. One of his hands come up to your cheek and his thump wipes the last few tears away from your skin. “Feeling a bit better?”
Finally you give him a small smile back and nod. “A little… Thank you”
Bucky’s smile grows. He can’t help but think about how cute you look right now. “For you, always” How long can he deny the feelings he has for you? How long is he going to pretend that there is nothing between you two?
Your mind is spinning as well, your troubles forgotten for now. All you can think of right now is Bucky. The two of you stand there in the dark living room, holding each other, looking into each other’s eyes without saying a word. The moment is intimate and your heart starts to beat slightly faster.
Bucky is going to take the risk and leans slightly closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours to watch your reaction closely. As you don’t seem to mind him coming closer, he leans in even more, your faces only inches apart. You can feel his hot breath on your face and before you can think twice his lips meet yours. It’s surprisingly soft and sweet, something you would never think of a man like him. But His lips are tender and his movements gentle as if to not scare you away. He pulls away after a moment, his face still close to yours, as he looks at you intensely.
Your lips are slightly parted, your whole body frozen for a moment. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your breath caught in your throat. For a second Bucky is afraid he might have overstepped a line, but when he sees you smiling softly at him he returns it immediately. He leans closer again, wanting to kiss you again but not sure if he should. It’s your turn to close the gap between you and press your lips against his, kissing him with a bit more force than before.
Bucky’s hold on you tightens slightly as he leans into the kiss, trying to take in every second.
When you part again he leans his forehead against yours. The act is so small yet so sweet and you smile up at him. “Wow” is all he can say.
A soft chuckle leaves your lips before you respond “wow indeed”
He returns your chuckle. “I wanted to do that for a long time now”
At his words your heart is starting to beat faster once again, your hands wrapping tighter around him. “Me too” Your voice is barely a whisper but it’s loud enough for him to here.
“And I’ll always be there for you, okay? No matter what…” His words carry a seriousness you’ve never heard before. He means it and you can feel just how much he cares for you. But before you respond Bucky continues “I love you”
“I love you too”
And with that Bucky pecks your lips once again before wrapping you in a tight hug, not planning on letting you go ever again. Not that you mind, of course. You could stay forever in his arms, in this moment.
A/N Here is my complete masterlist with all the ff, imagines, oneshots, smut and whatever. Check it out and leave a like :)
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ichorai · 4 months
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airbag ; steve rogers.
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track one of OK COMPUTER.
pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.
words ; 4.3k
themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?
warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)
main masterlist.
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Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there. 
It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.
Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too. 
Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old. 
It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight. 
Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”
And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.
Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.
During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.
Will you marry me?
And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.
To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay. 
“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.
You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.
Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.
The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.
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Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.
“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”
There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”
Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.” 
Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”
Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”
There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”
Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words. 
“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”
“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.
“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”
She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”
Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.
Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.
Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.
“I packed us sandwiches.”
“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car. 
“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”
Steve arched a brow. “Like?”
“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”
Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead. 
The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got. 
The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.
And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again. 
Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward. 
Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills. 
He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”
When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”
Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs. 
The proposal would have to wait another day, then.
He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”
“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.
He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.
Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.
“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”
“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”
You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next. 
“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.
He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.
“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”
Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”
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The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often. 
Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.
It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.
He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.
And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you. 
To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut. 
With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead. 
The proposal would have to wait another day.
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Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come. 
And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.
“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.
When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.
The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.
You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…
And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight. 
A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view. 
“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?
“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.
A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.
“Did Natasha tell you?”
Tony snorted. “We all know.”
“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”
“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”
Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question. 
Or was it? 
“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”
With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”
Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests. 
Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.
“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”
And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again. 
Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?
He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.
His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music. 
Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy. 
“Sandy?” 
“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”
“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”
“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?” 
With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.
“Honey, I gotta go.” 
Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”
“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”
Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”
It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip. 
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The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.
A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve. 
He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric. 
But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.
Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.
“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything. 
“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”
Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”
His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.
“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”
Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”
You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut. 
“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.
“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.
“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”
Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.
Should he? Now, when he had the chance?
“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on. 
Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.
“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”
Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.
“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.
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A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears. 
Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.
“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”
Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother. 
A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief. 
“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone. 
“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”
Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”
“Yeah?”
“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”
Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”
The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.
“You ready for lunch?”
“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”
Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—
But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.
“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head. 
Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”
Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.
And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”
There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it. 
The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe. 
“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.
You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”
“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.
When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.
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kill-me-off · 2 months
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I’m actually a Young Avengers anti and cannot believe that I’m supposed to sit there and watch a 23 year old Kate Bishop try to find something in common with 10-16 year olds. Like???? She should be out committing espionage and catching various felony charges with Yelena, not babysitting high schoolers.
Do you seriously expect me to believe that she’s going to be able to hold a conversation with Billy and Tommy Maximoff without cringing?
Do you think that Yelena would not clown the fuck out of her for ‘running a daycare’?
I’m all for the young avengers as a concept, but for the love of god, either age them all up or keep her out of it.
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luvmattmurdock · 4 months
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perfect sense series masterlist; pietro maximoff
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pietro maximoff x stark!reader
“Keep reminding me that it ain’t a race, when my invisible streak turns onto the final straight”
word count; 8.6k (not complete)
main masterlist. taglist.
part 1 You laughed at him. “You really couldn't think of any other insult than ‘silly girl’?” He stared at you. If he wasn’t so obviously mad, you would’ve thought he was checking you out. 
part 2 "What is it supposed to be? Its purpose, I mean." "Ultron will be a program to promote world peace"
part 3 “Goodbye printsessa.” And he left with his superhuman speed, leaving a blue and silver aura.
part 4 You realised his piercing blue eyes were staring straight at you, which frustrated you even more because if he wasn’t so stupid maybe you could’ve banged him.
part 5 "Incredible," you said. "You're a stalker." He smiled. His smile was very pretty, and you found it especially pretty when he wasn't making fun of you.
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abby118 · 3 months
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tell me again how he was doing it willingly
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ramayah · 2 years
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❝𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘❞ — parent! c. evans x teacher! m!reader
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 — smut (chest play, spanking, semi-bondage) + reader has tit piercings !
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒) — cheating (chris cheats on his wife) !
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — chris evans supremacy ong<3 i love him sm<3
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His hands were cupped around the male's beautiful breast, receiving a whimper from his son's teacher. [name] set his hands around Chris' wrist, trying to pull his hands off of his chest. It was supposed to be a parent-teacher conference about Chris' son, however, it slowly turned into a sensual makeout session and the grip of Chris' hands around [name]'s chest.
" Chris, you-you know we can't!'' He announced his hands covered his hands quickly trying to button up his dress shirt, face flushed a dark red, his hands fumbling as he half-assed buttoned up his shirt. " Oh c'mon now," Chris cooed, hands rubbing [name]'s waist in a soothing way, a present smirk on his face as their eyes met. God, nobody could dare to even try to resist those baby blue eyes. " we could, and we should. I know you've been so, so stressed with grades recently.." He droned on and on, pressing soft kiss on [name]'s neck, hands now running down to meet his ass, gripping tightly. " But I can help you with that, you know I have the power to do so, don't you baby?" Chris inquired, their eyes meeting again as he picked his head up to meet [name]'s, making their faces become more closer than normal.
" I-I have been stressed," [name] admitted, eyes glued on Chris' pretty pink lips, clearly wanting to give in to Chris' persistent acts. " Then let me relieve your stress, baby, please?" Chris begged, hands running up and down [name]'s sides as he pressed their lips close together, bringing a hand to grip the male's chin, tilting his head to deepen the kiss between the two. Chris' tongue began to slide along [name]'s, earning a muffled moan to reward his actions. " You taste so sweet, baby." He mumbled against the male's lips, beginning to caress and grope [name]'s chest, thumbs rubbing over the piercings.
" C'mere and sit on my lap, let me please you." He ordered, sitting down in [name]'s desk chair, patting his thigh with his hand.
Their clothed cocks grinded against each other, Chris' hands fondled with his pierced chest, rolling his tongue over the piercing before attaching his lips to [name]'s chest as if he wanted to milk the man. [name] was biting his lower lip, gripping Chris' shoulders for dear life. " I-I'm cumming!" He announced, a moan escaping his lips as Chris bit his chest harshly, tears leaving his eyes.
" Wow. You came from just that? You'd look so pretty milked to your extent, you know that, right?" [name] could only whimper in response, his body still not calming down from his most recent high.
" Strip, [name]. Let me see your beautiful body." [name] didn't have but any choice to oblige to Chris' demand. Standing up, he stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him naked, his erection put on display for Chris. " C'mere, let me take care of you." Chris softly spoke, his hand gripped around the base of [name]'s cock, running his tongue from the base to the tip, using his mouth to throat [name]'s cock in an instant. " Aah! Ch-ris!" [name] cried, a knot forming in his stomach as he came down Chris' throat, his legs shaking as Chris came off of his cock with a pop.
After a mere few minutes, [name] was bent over his desk, his hands were bonded over his abdomen with his dress-shirt's tie, his back arched, and his ass bruised.
" Mm-! Chris! Please! Aah, mm!" [name] moaned, whined, and whimpered from the harsh smacks of Chris' hand against his ass as he moved in and out of him, tears started to flow from his eyes and stream down the sides of his face, Chris enjoyed the look that was present on [name]'s face; a dark-red blush was stretching across his face, drool was dripping down his chin, bite marks starting at his neck then to his chest, hickies on his chest and neck, some on his shoulders. It was such a sight for Chris to enjoy.
Leaning down, Chris pressed soft, soothing kisses on [name]'s neck, thrusting in and out of the male quickly, hands gripped on his hips tightly.
" Fuck.. You're so tight. — Fffuck, you're so, so tight. God.." Chris mumbled into the male's neck, finally thrusting inside of the male one last time before producing his cum inside of [name]'s ass and pulled out. Cum dripped out of his ass, spilling onto the desk underneath him, his thighs shook from the sheer exhilaration his body was overwhelmed with. " More, please.. More, give me more." [name] begged, pulling Chris' hands to his chest, making a surprised expression come on Chris' face, which soon turned into an eager smirk with a lustful glint in his eyes.
'' You're so pretty when you beg."
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[SIGNED BY— kuvijuo. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]
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Plus idk why but there’s something that bothers me to no end about Peggy being once again forcibly shoved in an episode she had no business being in. Like, what was the reason to have her crash the 1602 episode?
The episode where apparently Steve scratched the time stone and ended up in the 17th century had the best chance to be one of the best of the season, with the avengers stuck in what basically seems to be a Medieval AU straight out of Ao3
So like, top teir shit
And so I wonder, WHAT does Peggy have to do with the main avengers?? Is it so hard to have the avengers do one thing for themselves? Does the magnificent, multiversal pain in the butt Peggy have to be there too? WHY
The Christmas episode was literally a 2012 fic and I’m sure most people loved it, especially bc the avengers were all there and together. This could have been the chance to do it. Instead they need to once again shove Steggy and effing Peggy Carter down our throats and create an episode where Steve is all lovey dovey with the girl he knew for like a year and, by the time of IW, he had completely gotten over (not counting endgame bc all his character development regarding Peggy was flushed down the toilet to have the ending “make sense”).
The fact alone that Peggy, minor character with way too much screen time, has more scenes than effing Wanda Maximoff aka the strongest being in the multiverse is absolutely baffling.
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lovelybarnes · 2 years
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blush- b. barnes
pairings: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers warnings: flustered!bucky like stupidly so about: request! Bucky was never a ‘ladies man’ in the 40’s (him and Steve made a pack to talk the other up no matter what to other guys) so when Y/n makes a move on him he gets all flustered and doesn’t know what to do… a/n: [shortie but a goodie i hope] i had to find out cucumbers are fruit for this fic and i am not okay with this information.
the effect you have on bucky drives him nearly as insane as you do, with your flirty smiles and winks he’s only half sure are meant for him. his crush on you is embarrassingly obvious—at least he thinks so, but he can’t control the blush that colors his skin whenever you blow a kiss at him after you catch him looking at you, or he turns to meet the eyes already on him.
steve stifles laughter each time bucky is left with only a wobbly little smile and longing eyes when you walk past and brush past his arm, your fingers lingering around his bicep for a few seconds too long for it to be friendly as you apologize.
bucky grumbles about how his friend isn’t—or at least wasn’t—much better than he is, but however true it may be, it falls flat when he nearly trips over his own feet when you wave at him while you run past him with an excited “hi bucky!”
you’re even gracious enough to pretend not to see when he clumsily waves back and almost crashes against a tree, although sam certainly isn’t, only somewhat quieting down when you smack at his arm.
he’s never been good at this, and he wasn’t expecting something like that to change, but he’d always trusted that he could at least be decent when it mattered.
like now. when you’re alone in the kitchen and bucky wants to ask you to go with him to the gala steve was forcing him to go to. he’d been forgoing it only because each time he saw you, there were other avengers in the room, most of which he would definitely mind seeing him getting rejected.
but then your eyes meet his and your face breaks out into the smiles that make him go a little dumb, and he realized he can’t be decent at this even when it matters.
“hey, bucky,” you greet happily, grabbing the plate of chopped fruit you’d cut for yourself and walking toward him. “d’you want some cucumber?” you offer, lifting the container.
bucky nods thoughtlessly, taking some of the cucumber and eating it. “that’s really good,” he praises, words muffled. “best cucumber i’ve ever had.”
you laugh, only urging bucky to eat more and bring that sound back. “thanks. i’m glad you like it.”
“uh huh,” he mumbles, shoving more cucumber between his lips.
“what’s that?” steve asks when he enters the kitchen, and even though bucky knows otherwise, it makes him feel better to blame it all on steve, his own silent thoughts lying when he briefly lies to himself in believing that steve interrupted just when he was going to ask you to be his date.
“chopped cucumber with lime and salt,” you reply. “want some? bucky liked it.”
steve furrows his brows, “bucky hates cucumbers. always has.” he shoots the man a look.
surprised, you turn to bucky, retracting the plate. “you do? you don’t have to eat any if you don’t want to, buck. seriously.”
“no,” bucky argues petulantly, reaching for more fruit, “i love cucumber.” he nods seriously, gesturing to steve and waving him off. “old.”
“thanks,” steve retorts, rolling his eyes and walking out as bucky continues to force more cucumber into his mouth.
you eye him suspiciously before simply nodding and taking some for yourself. “so what’re you doing in three days?”
“hmm?” bucky questions through a mouth full of the fruit he hates. “uh, the gala i think,” he replies when he forces it down, holding back a wince but still reaching for more.
you nod. “do you have a date yet?”
bucky freezes, nearly choking when a prospect of your words drifts through his mind. he shakes it away stubbornly, refusing to get his hopes up for something that was probably not going to happen. “no,” he answers finally.
you nod, dropping your eyes and biting your lip before inhaling shortly—gaining confidence—and giving him a small smile. “would you want to go with me?” you propose. “as a date?”
bucky actually chokes then, making a strange noise and then hitting a fist against his chest. your eyebrows furrow immediately and you put your plate down, getting closer to him. “oh my god, are you okay?”
bucky forces a nod and an awkward thumbs up.
“you’re choking!” you gasp, going to slap his back. he finally swallows it down and thanks you coarsely.
before you can take it back, bucky coughs out an enthusiastic yes, nodding madly.
“are you sure?” you question cautiously, “i almost killed you just now and i’m not that great of a dancer.”
bucky chuckles hoarsely, flushing at the way your fingers are still dancing along his back in soothing motions. “that’s okay. and it was my fault. i should learn how to…” he pauses, struggling to pinpoint exactly what went wrong. ”swallow correctly.”
“i get nervous around you, too,” you blurt in an effort to make him feel better.
bucky gapes. “really?”
you nod, “obviously not as bad as you.” you motion to his neck. “but you have really pretty eyes.”
bucky goes red.
“you’re also endearingly easy to make blush.”
bucky groans lowly, trying not to choke again.
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comfortcaroljess · 6 days
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LOOK AT THIS. SHE’S LITERALLY CUPPING HER FACE GENTLY LIKE- *screams*
Spider-Woman #5 2023
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leavemeslowly · 2 years
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big congrats to the fanfic writers who wrote 1940s Steve losing his virginity to an original female character
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patemi-pk · 4 months
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Pkna fanfictions
As I'm reading a few Pk fanfictions here on tumblr, let me share with you the most comprehensive collection of italian Pk fanfictions (from the inceptions of the 90s and the 00s), collected by the amazing website Pk Hack:
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Rise of Pk, by Paride Prete
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I’m in charge – tony s.
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Okay, I had this idea because this scene lives in my head rent free. And I think it's not getting enough recognition, because look at it! If this scene from Iron Man 3 doesn't give you some daydreams I don't know what does! So, I hope you enjoy this fic! Don't forget to like and share :))
pairings bf Tony Stark x reader
warnings 18+, smut without plot, unprotected sex, bondage, oral (male receiving), slightly begging
summary basically you tying Tony up
(here is the link to a fic where Tony ties you up ;))
wordcount 1.7k
You were stumbling into the bedroom, Tony guiding you without ever stopping the kiss. He had been on a dangerous mission for a couple of days and as soon as he came back home you two started making out. You just couldn’t keep your hands off of the other.
Tony pushes you onto the bed, crawling on top of you and starting to make out with you again. Greedy hands unbutton his shirt and Tony sits up to let it slide down his shoulders onto the floor. He pulls your shirt over your head and throws it to his on the floor before wrapping his arms around you and softly laying you back down on the bed. Tony unclasps your bra in the process and tosses it aside.
But then you put your hands on his chest and push him off of you. At first he looks like a lost puppy but you just smirk and push him down on the bed, straddling him. The smirk returns to his face and his hands wander up your body, admiring every curve, and finally landing on your breasts, kneading them softly.
A moan slips from your mouth and you lean down to kiss him once again. Then your own hands find his and cup them before pulling them away from your body and pinning them down on either side of his head. You look at him to see his reaction. Tony lets out a gasp, not expecting this but he clearly enjoys how you start to take control.
You smirk at him and lean down, brushing your lips up his neck all the way to his ear, whispering “Let me show you how much I missed you” Your words send a shiver down Tonys spine and he pushes his hip upwards to meet yours. But you quickly pull away and press down on his hands more, taunting him. “Ah, ah… You’re not in charge tonight”
With that you let go of his hands and lean towards the nightstand table, pulling out two silk ropes and starting to tie his hands to the bed frame. Tony grins like a child at Christmas and his other hand slaps your ass provokingly. You then start to tie up his other hand as well before kissing your way down his body to the hem of his jeans. You slowly start to unzip it while looking up at him. Tonys breath gets heavier as he looks down at you, taking things way to slow for his liking.
After a few minutes his jeans and boxers are finally gone but you don’t even think about giving him attention right now. Instead, you stand next to the bed, smirking down at him and starting to pull your own jeans down ever so slowly. Tony gets impatiently and he starts to slightly pull on the ropes at his hands. He wants you, but you are far from done playing with him.
Once you are completely naked you climb back onto the bed between his legs. Your hands start to rub up and down his thighs, and your face getting closer and closer to his cock. “Please, darling” Tony breaths out, wanting you to finally touch him.
“You want to feel my mouth around your cock?” You smirk at him as he nods quickly. First your tongue licks over his shaft, making him let out a soft moan. My hand wraps around his cock slowly and I start drag my tongue around his head a few times, making him tremble in anticipation. Then, I take the tip of his cock into my mouth, my lips sealed around it and Tony throws his head back into the pillow with a moan.
“That feels so good, baby” he whispers, making a wave of pride washing over you.
As you start to slightly bob your head another moan leaves Tonys lips and he bucks his hips, but you are quick to retrace your mouth from his member, making him whine at the loss. “That’s not how we are going to play tonight” you smirk and take his member in your mouth again. You let your tongue swirl around his head making Tony go wild. He starts to pull at the ropes around his wrists slightly but tries his best to contain his excitement, not wanting you to stop.
After a couple of minutes, you let go of his cock with a “plop” and smirk up at him. Tony is already a panting mess as you slowly crawl up his body. Your lips hover right over his as he opens his eyes to look at you. “Let me feel you pussy, baby” he asks softly, trying his best to not let his voice shake.
You sit up, straddling his cock perfectly with your pussy, your hands resting on his abs. “Beg for it”
Tony looks at you with pleading eyes. He doesn’t want to beg. In fact, he should be the one in charge right now, not you, not that he minds of course. But begging? Tony Stark doesn’t beg.
As he stays quiet you roll your hips on top of him, giving his cock some friction but not enough to satisfy him. His eyes roll back and he bites his lips. “Please…” he whispers, nearly inaudible.
“What was that?” you ask him again with a huge grin plastered all over your face, continuing to roll your hips.
“Please, please let me feel your pussy. Let me fill you up, baby, please”
That’s exactly what you wanted to hear and you finally give him what he wants, letting his cock slide into you inch after inch until he is completely buried inside your wet pussy. Your head falls back and you too let out a soft moan at the feeling of being stretched.
Tonys eyes roll back into his head as he is trying hard not to buck his hips up into you. “Oh god” He pants out, loving the feeling of your warm walls clenching around him.
After you are adjusted to his size you slowly start to rock your hips again, your hands still resting on his chest for support. The feeling of finally having him sends jolts of pleasure through your body and you start to moan softly. This makes Tony go crazy and all he wants is to pound into you right now. But all he can do is pulling at his restraints and starting to buck his hips up to meet yours. You are enjoying the feeling of his cock softly pounding into you way too much to stop him right now and so you just let him continue.
Soon you start to move a bit faster, in time with the movement of his hips. It feels perfect for the both of you. Your clit is rubbing over his groin, covering it with your juices. Tony lifts his head to watch where the two of you meet and he licks his lips. “So wet for me baby. And I didn’t even do a thing”
His smirk makes you chuckle slightly, but you don’t stop your movements. Instead, you clench around him as a respond, making his head fall back onto the pillow with a groan. “You like it when I ride your cock, don’t you?” You ask him between deep breaths.
Tony nods “God yes, I want to touch you. I want to touch you so bad”
You just shake his head. “I’m in charge tonight” And continue to ride him a little bit faster.
“Please… Please, I want to touch your perfect breasts, your skin, your pussy, please, baby” He whines out. You rarely see Tony like this, a panting, whining mess underneath you, pleading for you. But you enjoy this sight very much.
“You are touching me, Tony. Down here” As you say this you lean back slightly, taking his balls in your hand and rolling them softly, just as he likes it. The new angle makes both of you moan a little more, getting closer and closer to the sweet release.
“Yeah, and you feel so good” Tony whines out, bucking his hips up with a bit more force this time, making you jolt in pleasure. As he sees your reaction Tony does it again. “You like that?”
You nod frantically, feeling a knot in your stomach growing. “Yes, yes! Tony…” You moaning out his name makes him pull harder at the restraints, continuing his movements and chasing his own high. You can feel that he is close too and you look right at him. “Cum. Cum for me” You say with shaky voice, feeling the knot in your stomach is about to explode.
Your words are everything he needs and after three more thrusts he feels hot ropes spilling into you, as he groans heavily. His release sends you over the edge as well, clenching around him and milking every single drop from his cock, while your movements slowly dye down.
As you both come down from your high you open your eyes to look at him again, a soft smile playing around your lips. Tony looks up at you too, still feeling your walls clenching around his cocks slightly, hot cum dripping out of you. He softly pulls at the silk ropes around his wrists and looks up at you with pleading eyes, wanting to finally touch you and hold you in his arms.
“I don’t know, kinda like you like that” you chuckle a bit which makes him whine a bit.
“Please. Don’t you want me to cuddle you?” He looks at you with puppy eyes, and you can’t resist this looks anymore. You lean over to free him from his chains and he immediately wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down against his chest. “This was amazing, baby” He softly whispers into your ear as your head rests on his shoulder.
“I may do it again” you respond.
“Oh, no way. Next round, I’m in charge” you can hear the smirk in his voice and you giggle.
“I’m not going to complain about that”
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azurecanary · 4 months
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So apparently Wiccan is about to make his MCU debut
What are the chances they'll fuck him up too?
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ichorai · 1 year
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to noise making ; steve rogers.
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track six of WASTELAND, BABY!
pairing ; steve rogers x mutant!gn!reader
synopsis ; pure silence never sat well with steve. it reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. so when he heard your loose, disjointed hums coming from the compound’s kitchen, he came seeking your voice out more and more.
words ; 4.5k
themes ; fluff, mild angst
warnings / includes ; mild cursing, implications of depression/ptsd but not explicit, descriptions of injury/blood, a mention of a toxic ex, one mention of biological warfare, reader is a mutant with the ability to manipulate matter, reader calls steve 'old man' and he calls them 'sweetheart' once, reader and tony are best friendos, this fic is basically a huge FUCK YOU to steve's ending in endgame, a kiss !! that tony rudely interrupts, mildly an avengers tower-reminiscent fic bcs they're my found family okay </3
main masterlist. set in the same universe as: blue jeans.
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Silence accompanied Steve everywhere he went. 
It followed him through his morning—when he rose so early even the birds hadn’t started their day yet. When he went out for a quick jog, his shoes nearly mute against the sidewalk’s smooth concrete. When he showered with frigidly cold water right after, he stared wordlessly at the ground as the iridescent soap suds ran down his skin into the drain. 
It followed him through his afternoon—when he filled out paperwork for the latest recon mission. When he played a quiet game of Uno with Bucky over the kitchen counter during lunch. When he went outside, where the curious stares of strangers seemed to grow exponentially with each ticking second, and phone cameras were shoved into his face not two yards out the door. 
It followed him through the night—when he went on a blind date set up by Natasha, the dinner largely consisted of uncomfortable pauses, mostly because they really had nothing in common, and she’d also mentioned she wasn’t all that into blondes. When he later took his motorcycle out for a drive, stopping by an empty bridge to stare down at the river rushing by. When he slid into bed with naught a sound, digging his fist into his eyes until he hallucinated bright colors behind his eyelids. 
Pure silence never sat well with Steve. It reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. All the time that had slipped right between his fingers like fine grains of sand.
That morning was as ordinary as ever. He brushed his teeth. Ran a comb through his flaxen hair. Changed into his jogging clothes. Tied his shoes. And he slipped out of the compound, off for his daily run. 
When he came back, he was surprised to see Tony striding out of the kitchen—he wasn’t usually up this early. 
“Dishwasher’s broken,” the brunette told him, sipping a large mug of dark coffee as he stroked his stubble with his other hand. “Remind me to get that fixed, will you?”
Steve blinked, then nodded.
Satisfied, Tony bid him adieu with no more than a limp wave as he shuffled past him, off to the compounds laboratory. 
The rest of the day slid by as quiet as ever—paperwork, filing, having lunch with Natasha at a secluded Italian cafe, mission debrief with Sam, more paperwork, listening to Bucky complain about his cat scratching up his favorite henley, and finally, deciding he was hungry enough to make dinner. 
He rose out of his chair, stretching with a soft groan as his bones popped with the movement. Then, Steve made his way out of his room, making a bee-line for the kitchen. He wasn’t at all surprised to see the compound’s living room empty—Sam had left for Louisiana to visit his sister, Natasha was off on an impromptu mission with Clint, Tony was doing god knows what in his lab, and Bucky was busy reprimanding Alpine for destroying his most prized article of clothing.
With everybody gone, it should’ve been quiet. 
But it wasn’t.
Much to Steve’s mild surprise and curiosity, he could hear somebody in the kitchen. 
Who could it be? Bruce? No—Bruce had flown off to Switzerland for some sort of fancy science convention. Thor? It was possible, but probably not—the Norse god would’ve barged into his room asking how to use the microwave for the millionth time by now. 
Steve heard the clatter of pots. The sound of boiling liquid. A displeased noise, quietly followed by a frantic mutter, “Oh, too much, too much!” He heard water trickling down the drain.
Then, the humming started. It was loose and disjointed, following the tune of a song for a couple seconds at a time before taking a lengthy pause, only to pick up an entirely new melody a minute later.
It took him a moment to realize that lingering in the dark hallway whilst listening intently to someone in the kitchen was rather creepy, so Steve reared himself out of his thoughts and stepped into the light. 
Of course it was you. You were more or less new to the compound—a long-time, trusted friend of Tony’s from all the way back when he first built his Iron Man suit. You were recently brought onto the team due to your mutant abilities, uncanny intelligence, and Tony’s undeniable fondness for you. Besides that, Steve knew very little about you: he knew you were around the same age as him (at least the same age as when he was frozen), he knew you were a genius physicist, he knew you had the power to manipulate matter around you (which made you an excellent asset to the team), and he recalled Scott once mentioning that you were allergic to styrofoam. 
Steve assumed that the last one had been a joke. 
“Oh!” Your startled voice echoed across the kitchen at the sight of him. “Oh, it’s just you.”
An eyebrow raised closer to his hairline. “Just me? Who did you think it was?”
You appeared embarrassed for a moment, waving a spatula in the air. “Well, I may or may not have stolen Tony’s top secret models for his next version of the suit—just because I was curious how much he was going to spend on it, you know? I figured he’d come storming in accusing me of theft.”
A smile graced Steve’s lips. “Well, knowing Tony, I don’t think he’ll notice anytime soon. He hasn’t left the lab in hours.”
You shook your head fondly with a part hum, part scoff, before turning back to the stove, mixing the large pot full of red sauce. The air was saturated with the scent of simmering tomatoes and aromatic herbs—basil and oregano, Steve mused, were probably two of his most favorite things since coming out of the ice. They certainly didn’t have flavors like those back in the forties. Everything was far too bland and excessively moist back then. 
“I’m making vegan spaghetti,” you said, snapping him out of his mouth-watering daze. “I’d be happy to fix a plate for you.”
A polite protest was on the tip of his tongue—Steve was planning on quickly microwaving a frozen pizza before heading off to do some more work. Just as he began to voice this, his stomach rumbled loudly in betrayal, and a grimace etched over his mouth. A wave of heat seeped through his skin, tinting his face a subtle shade of scarlet. 
Much to his relief, you merely grinned brightly, smothering a laugh by biting down on your bottom lip in amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you quipped, ladleing spoonfuls of sauce into two bowls of steaming spaghetti noodles. “Take a seat.”
Complying, Steve gingerly sat at the kitchen table, resting his hand atop the smooth glass. “Can I ask you something?”
A smile danced across your mouth. “I believe you just did, Cap.” You chuckled mildly before gesturing for him to carry on.
“If you’ve got powers, why are you…”
“Cooking? I guess I just like to do things organically sometimes,” you replied easily, sprinkling herbs on top of the spaghetti before bringing the steaming bowls towards the table. “It’s cathartic.”
Steve thought to all the times he broke the sandbags in the gym—the satisfying thud of completion. He supposed he understood what you meant.
The dish in front of him was wafting with a fragrance that made his stomach twist painfully with hunger. 
“Dig in,” you said, gesturing to his serving as you started twirling the noodles around with a fork. “And to elaborate on your question, I’ve made food using my powers before—but it just tastes different. Like it isn’t the same if I didn’t measure out the ingredients, waited for the water to boil, or chopped up the veggies. It feels almost as if I’m cheating, you know?”
Steve tilted his head in thought. “That’s an interesting way to put it,” he said with a small smile, before forking some spaghetti into his mouth. “How’d you find out about your powers?”
The light-hearted atmosphere about you seemed to thin away at his question. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as you considered his question for a moment before responding. “It was an accident. A bad one. My ex… he was a real dick—excuse my language—and this one time one of our fights got out of hand. He started raising his palm like he was going to hit me. He wasn’t going to, by the way, he was just reaching for his phone behind me. But I panicked—and all of a sudden a shard of glass materialized right through his hand.”
Steve’s brows rose. He shoveled more spaghetti into his mouth.
“There was blood dripping all over the floor. We were both silent at first. Then, he started screaming. Luckily, we had a first aid kit in our bathroom. I bound his palm and drove him to the hospital—he was fine. No permanent damage.”
You sipped on some water, swallowing heavily.
“Are you guys still…?” 
“Oh, definitely not.” You chuckled bitterly. “He never wanted to speak to me ever again. Called me a freak. A mutant.”
It was brief, but Steve could see the insecurity meld across your features, shattering through your otherwise bubbly persona. 
“Well, he was an idiot. It was an accident, right? Accidents happen,” Steve quietly put forth. “And for what it’s worth, I think your powers are extraordinary. I mean, you can conjure up practically anything you want! That’s just… incredible.”
Warmth stained your insides golden as you pushed away a smile. “Thanks, Steve. Your powers aren’t too bad either—fast healing, enhanced strength. You’re quite the package.”
A generous smattering of crimson spread over his cheekbones. “Well, I’d have to thank Doctor Erskine for that. He was the one that invented the super serum—and chose for me to be the test subject. Because he believed in me.” There was a distant, reminiscent sadness to his eyes. You knew of Erskine, he was plastered across practically every American history textbook. 
“I’m sorry he died so soon,” you mumbled. “He seemed like a great man.”
“He was,” Steve said, nodding. He regarded you for a moment, briefly wondering just why it was so easy to talk to you when the two of you had barely spoken before this. The blonde across from you cleared his throat. “Thinking about him always gets me strangely nostalgic. I dream about the forties sometimes… my terrible childhood, my creaky apartment, my first love, … life before the war—before all of this. Sometimes I wonder—if I was given the chance to go back, would I?”
Your fork stopped halfway to your face. “Would you?” you asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, rather shamefully. “I don’t think I would. I mean, I’ve got my family here. Bucky, Sam, Natasha—they mean the world to me. I think I just feel… guilty about it all? Like when you mentioned using magic sometimes feels like your cheating at something. I feel like I cheated my own death. It feels unfair. When I look at Bucky—I feel like I betrayed him.”
“Oh, Steve.” You were shaking your head, reaching across the table to gently grasp one of his hands. Your palm was warm atop his frigid one. “I know how that feels—like you don’t deserve a place in the world because you’re different. But I promise it gets better. None of that was your fault. You’ll move on, with time. Plus, you’ve got a great support system here. I know we haven’t been the closest of friends but I’m certainly willing to lend an ear whenever you want me to.”
It mildly surprised him when he felt disappointment unfurl within his chest when you retracted your touch.
“That…” Steve released a small sigh, relaxing his muscles that he didn’t even realize were tense. “That means a lot, Y/N. Thanks. I haven’t really told anybody this because I thought it’d just… go away eventually. I don’t like the quiet. I hate it, in fact. The silence always reminds me of all the time I spent in the ice—how I cheated death. It leaves me with my own thoughts and makes me realize just how… unsatisfied I am. I’m not happy with myself when everything around me is quiet.”
He swallowed down another twirl of spaghetti, now cold and thick in his throat.
A part of him was afraid he’d scare you away with this confession. After all, it was a lot to dump on the first conversation with someone he had a lot of respect for.
Instead of finishing the rest of your spaghetti as quickly as you could and running away from him like Steve partially expected you’d do, you merely smiled at him, a newfound understanding reflected in your eyes. “Then I’ll make sure never to be quiet around you,” you said, genuine tenderness woven between each word.
Steve’s stomach lurched at that.
The rest of the dinner went by filled with stories of how you mastered your powers, stories of Steve finding out Bucky was still alive after all these years, stories of how you met Tony long, long ago.
It was safe to say, silence was nowhere near the two of you that night. 
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You were humming again. Steve could hear you from down the hall. It’d been a couple of weeks since that first dinner with you—with dozens more sprinkled in between. The two of you were practically attached by the hip after that. 
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
He wandered into the kitchen with his hands behind his back, coming beside you at the sink, where you were washing the dishes (which reminded him that he forgot to remind Tony to fix the dishwasher). 
“Can I help?” he asked, unclasping his hands and extending one towards you.
Without breaking off your humming, you handed him a damp plate whilst gesturing to a rag for him to use to dry. Steve caught sight of your bright grin from his peripheral vision. He ducked his head bashfully, pulse kicking up a notch. Your hip bumped into his, and the two of you quietly chuckled. 
No words were exchanged between the two of you then, the only thing filling the silence between you was your disjointed hums to songs that Steve didn’t know.
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“What song are you humming?” The scratching of Steve’s pencil against paper momentarily stopped in the middle of drawing a sketch of a bowl of fruits on the coffee table in front of him as he tentatively asked the question. 
You looked away from your book propped up on your legs, which were carelessly thrown over Steve’s on the compound’s couch. His free hand was splayed largely on your knee—but you pretended not to notice.
“Huh?” you asked, having not heard his question properly, preoccupied with the story you were reading.
“You’re always humming the same song,” Steve said. “Well, parts of that song.”
“Oh!” Placing the book down, you shifted around so you could reach for your phone in your pocket. “It’s this sixties song called Summer Wine by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. One of my all time favorites.” 
You pressed the play button on your phone screen and Steve listened along, enjoying the softness of Nancy’s voice in stark contrast to the slow rasp of Lee’s. He bobbed his head to the song off-beat, but you found it endearing all the same.
“Yeah, that’s it, old man,” you teased, elbowing him in the side and mimicking his movements. Your smile, so wide it seemed to illuminate the entire room, made Steve giddy with excitement. “It’s a good song, isn’t it?”
Steve let out a breathy chuckle. “You know, I was so set on forties music being the best of the best for the longest time—I think you might just be able to change my mind. Don’t tell Bucky I said that, though—he’d skin me alive.”
A genuine gasp fell from your lungs as you lurched forward, grabbing at his hands and leaning in so close he could see his reflections in your enlivened irises. He could smell your perfume, a soft wafting of vanilla and lavender that made his head spin. “Really? Because I have so many more songs I could recommend to you—tell you what, I’ll make you a playlist tonight. Finally introduce you to the world of modern music.” You relinquished your hold on him, moving back with a grand beam. “That might be the nicest compliment anybody’s ever given me, Stevie.”
Steve couldn’t help but feel like you were overexaggerating just to make him happy, but you seemed happy to do so, and how could he ever interfere with that? 
“I don’t know, though,” Steve started, his tone teasing. “Forties music is gonna be really hard to top.”
“It’ll be my mission to find something for you, then,” you said, determined. With that, you picked your book back up and began reading again, humming softly once more. Steve took that as his cue to continue drawing. 
He spared you a glance every once in a while, observing the way the sunlight from the window cast a dewy, honey-like luminescence over your features. The way the sloping curvatures of the shadows on your face enhanced your relaxed state. The way your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip as your pupils flitted to and fro from the book’s pages. He wanted to ask if he could draw you, but the words lodged in his throat, like he had swallowed a large stone.
So he stayed quiet, listening to you hum a song that Steve now knew.
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“Steve.”
Natasha crossed her arms.
“Steve.”
She sighed, eyes narrowing. 
“Damn it, Steve!”
Finally, the blonde startled, ripping his headphones off and whirling around in his chair to see Natasha standing a foot away from his desk. He’d been listening to the playlist you had meticulously curated for him, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet when you told him to listen to it.
The annoyance in the green of her eyes dissipated, replaced with mild amusement. “So much for super-hearing, huh?” she snarked, lacking any true bite to her words. Despite her stoic demeanor, she was really glad Steve found someone that made him happier than anybody else ever did. Even though he didn’t know it yet—Natasha saw the way he looked at you. 
Steve scratched the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry, Nat. How can I help?”
“Y/N just got back from their mission. They’re in the infirmary.”
Immediately, he stood up, chair squeaking at the abrupt movement, eyebrows furrowing. “Infirmary? Are they hurt? What’re they doing back so early? The mission was supposed to be take an entire week, that’s what—”
“Relax, Rogers,” Natasha sternly asserted, effectively cutting him off. “Just doing a check-up—they were exposed to some radioactive material but it should be fine.” In a much softer tone, she added on, “Y/N was asking for you.”
Breath hitching in his throat, Steve nodded and a quiet thank you left his lips as he jogged out of his room. 
The few minutes of silence as he rushed to the infirmary did nothing good for his worrying. He passed by a pretty bruised-up Clint lounging across the waiting seats, pressing an ice cube to a gash on his forehead, and gestured to the double doors across from him. He knew of Steve’s budding relationship with you (because Natasha made it her personal mission to embarrass the poor guy) and could only assume that he’d come rushing here for you. The polished floors squeaked under his shoes as he came to a sudden halt, briefly saluting Clint thanks before knocking twice. Before he got a response, he slowly pushed the doors open, peeking his head in.
You were seated on the edge of the hospital bed, still in your mission’s attire, hair rumpled and a bit of dried blood on the side of your jaw, but you looked to be otherwise just fine. Doctor Cho was beside you, tapping her pen against a clipboard as she took note of your blood pressure. 
“Hey, old man. Long time no see,” you said with a toothy grin when you heard the door creak open. “You missed the funniest thing on the mission. There was this—”
Steve strode forward, and before you could finish your sentence, he knelt down and enveloped you into a tight embrace, nose pressing against the crown of your head. 
Your words were muffled into his shirt, which eventually died away when you noticed that he clearly was too emotional to listen to your amusing story of how Clint tripped on a big rock and cut his head. He smelled so good, like clean laundry and those tree-scented car fresheners. Steve barely registered Doctor Cho shifting awkwardly and excusing herself out of the room, entirely fixated by the way your arm loosely curled around his shoulders as you hugged him back.
“Whose blood is that?” he asked without pulling away from you.
“Not mine,” you assured him.
“Nat told me you were asking for me,” said the blonde, gingerly pulling away from you to meet your eyes. His hand went under your chin to tilt your head around, as if reaffirming that you were perfectly fine. “Exposed to radioactive material? What happened? Are you hurt?”
“Looks like someone missed me,” you laughed at his mother henning, bringing your hand up to wrap around his, holding it close to your chest. “The wrong kind of people were trying to steal stuff that could potentially be used for biological warfare—we intercepted, but one of the cases broke and I had to use my powers to forge a new one. I was only exposed for a couple seconds, but it was enough to warrant a check up. We had to back off because they were in possession of the last case and threatened to drop it into the city’s main water supply.”
Steve’s brows knitted together as you spoke. “We gotta go stop them, then—”
“They think they have the last case,” you said, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips.
“You used your powers to make a fake,” Steve whispered in realization. “You’re a genius.”
Waving away his praise, you leaned forward, gripping him tighter. “Enough about that! Did you listen to the playlist?”
His chest rumbled as he laughed. You had just gotten back from a dangerous mission and you were asking about him. 
“I was around halfway through,” he said, grinning softly.
“Guess you’ll just have to listen to the rest with me,” you quipped, craning your neck to swiftly kiss his cheek. When you pulled back just a little, you did it ever so slowly, hovering close enough so that your noses brushed against one another. 
Heat flushed across his face. His heart palpitated painfully against his ribcage. His stormy eyes flickered down to glance at your lips, then moved up again to meet your eyes. All he saw was you.
“You can kiss me, Stevie,” you mumbled against him, giving him the green light he was waiting for. “I promise I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that. I mean, you’re a super soldier, would you even feel th—mmh!”
That spurred him to shift forward, capturing your lips with his and effectively interrupting your thoughts before he could get any more flustered, foreheads bumping against one another. After recovering from your initial shock, you tugged him closer by the lapels of his shirt, tilting your head to the side so he could fold into you ever so perfectly. It felt as if a fire was crawling around his veins, consuming him entirely. Your skin was cold against his, quelling the burning sensation dancing over his skin. 
You smiled into the mouth, laughing against his lips when he drifted his fingers up your side. “That tickles,” you murmured, pressing butterfly kisses on the corners of his lips and the tip of his nose. 
Steve couldn’t help it. He began laughing as well, muffled when you slapped his tickling hands away, kissing him harder.
The two of you stayed that way for what felt like hours—breaths turned ragged and chests heaving, when really it was only about five minutes. By the stroke of the sixth minute, Tony strode into the infirmary room uttering, “Knockity knock knock,” despite not knocking.
“Woah!” he exclaimed upon seeing the two of you in such… close proximities. “Took you two long enough. Barnes owes me twenty bucks. And, Jesus, hang a sock on the door, Rogers! I know you’re old, and not at all accustomed to the sexual customs of our generation, but I do not want to see my recently-radiated best friend swap spit with you.”
You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him. “Nice to see you, too, Tony. And yeah, your recently-radiated friend is just peachy, thanks for asking!”
Tony glared at you. “Please, if you weren’t ‘just peachy’ Rogers wouldn’t be shoving his tongue down your throat.” Steve looked like he wanted to object, but he cleared his throat and diverted his gaze to the floor instead. Tony barked out a laugh, rotating on his heel to head back out. “Good to see you’re okay, kid. Remember to wrap it before you tap it!”
As soon as he was gone, Steve groaned, dropping his head against your chest, flustered beyond relief. 
“Does he always have to be so crass?” he asked, wrinkling his nose with embarrassment. 
“That’s Tony for you.” You shook your head with amusement. Then, your voice a notch softer, you asked, “Hey, Stevie?”
He hummed in response, lifting his head to look at you.
“You remember when you said you weren’t sure if you’d want to go back to the forties or not?”
Steve blinked in mild surprise. “Yeah?”
Your expression betrayed your clear hesitance as you swallowed uncomfortably. “Do you think you’d go now?”
“No, sweetheart,” he whispered, bending closer so his nose brushed yours. “I’d never leave you. Not ever. I wasn’t going to leave in the first place, because I could never leave my friends and family here. But you… you make me feel not guilty for being happy. Like I deserve a life of my own—with you. And I think the quiet becomes more bearable when you’re around me. I don’t think so much of the past with you because… well, because I’m thinking of our future.”
A heartbreakingly bright smile painted your lips golden, and you shook your head fondly. It might’ve just been a trick of the infirmary’s painfully artificial lights, but he could’ve sworn he saw the glimmering film of tears briefly gloss over your eyes. “Did you just come up with that on the spot?” The two of you laughed into each other, and you pressed a gentle kiss just under his eyes. “You’re something else, Stevie, I’ll tell you that.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, unable to stop smiling, before capturing your grin with his once more.
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luvmattmurdock · 4 months
Text
perfect sense part 1; pietro maximoff
pietro maximoff x stark!reader
“Keep reminding me that it ain’t a race, when my invisible streak turns onto the final straight”
word count; 2k
warnings; none really, just like mind manipulation and mild violence if you squint.
main masterlist. series masterlist. taglist.
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"Tony!" Steve shouted into the intercom. You rolled your eyes, your father was a few inches away from him, there was no need to shout. “I need you to deactivate the force field so I can get in!”
"Where's the please?" you heard your father’s voice, chuckling at his words.
"I need backup," Natasha's calm voice was clear, proving that everything the team was using was nothing less than top-notch Stark technology.
"Going!," You said, running towards her.
You quickly arrived, pulling out the gun Clint had given you, and began shooting at Strucker's soldiers. You hated the fact that you were not part of the main mission, forced to just shoot those useless soldiers. 
Well, at least they had let you attend the mission. That was something.
"Be careful!" You hurried towards Nat, a soldier under Strucker's command almost cut her in half. She reacted and kicked him out. You fired a shot at another soldier and hit his face with your fist.
"Tony!" Cap shouted again. Will he ever stop yelling? "We need to get in now!"
"Damn wait, Rogers!" your father yelled at Steve. 
"Language!" 
You left Nat and headed to fulfil the part of the plan that had been assigned to you. You had to enter the fortress and get as much data as you could while Tony got the sceptre out of there.
"So we're going to ignore the fact that a minute ago Cap said 'language'?" your father asked indignantly. 
"So it seems," you answered, panting. "Can I use the jetpack...?"
"No, not yet," Thor said as you heard him throw his hammer through the air, surely at a soldier. You sighed. Why run if you could fly?
You continued running until you almost reached the fortress. You started to slow down, if the security had not yet been deactivated you couldn't enter. 
“Hey, uh… dad? How are we doing in regards to the security thingy?”
“Five minutes.”
“Alright” You went back to running, but almost immediately stopping as you heard a sound behind you. There was no need to turn around for you to know that there was someone behind you. Raising your hand, ready to shoot golden sparks out of it, you turned around and threw a beam of light at the person who was there.
With tremendous agility he managed to avoid it but just barely. You frowned, that person was fast, wayy much faster than you.
He was obviously altered, probably by Hydra. The team had talked about them before. "Guys," You whispered into the intercom, "I think I found one of those altered people, permission to attack?"
“Permission granted.” Steve said “Also Y/N, be careful.”
“I’ll try, '' you answered, smiling softly. You took the headset off and saved it in your suit pocket. Closing your eyes, you focused on just listening, your suit already glowing.
You heard the sound again and smiled. If you were right, this mutant would run in three seconds.
Tree
Two
One
You opened your eyes as you saw him running in front of you. You raised your hand, this time managing to hit him with a golden beam. He was paralyzed in a bubble of light that restrained him. Now that he was still you took a good look at him. He was a boy of about twenty, maybe twenty one, years old. His hair was black but it was silver at the tips. His eyes were crystal blue, very very blue, and they reminded you of how it felt like to be cold. His, let’s be fair, very attractive face was turned into a grimace of surprise and anger, probably because you had been able to stop him. His arms, very muscular by the way, were at his sides with clenched fists.
He was clearly angry. 
And he was clearly angry at you.
“What the- How the hell did you manage to stop me?! Get me out of this stupid bubble, silly girl!" he said with a thick accent.
You laughed at him. “You really couldn't think of any other insult than ‘silly girl’?” He stared at you. If he wasn’t so obviously mad, you would’ve thought he was checking you out. Analysing your features with pursed lips.
"Also, if I were you I would be way nicer" I asked, trying to make evident that I was the one with the power in this situation.
“Enlighten me, why would I do that?" he replied. Now that the initial adrenaline shock from stopping him had faded, you were able to recognise that his accent was, to say the least, kinda hot. You smiled.
"Because maybe then I'll consider taking you out of the bubble?" Your smile turned to a smirk as you sat on a broken log. You knew you were irritating him and it was simply hilarious to you.
"Get me out of here and then maybe I won't hurt you too badly!" he demanded.
You raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm, I don't think so," You had an ironic innocent smile on your face, which was clearly making him even more furious.
"Silly girl," he said.
"Again with the 6th grade insults," you replied.
"How do you even do this?" he said looking at the bubble.
"I don’t think I should give you any details about our top secret, superhero worthy technology. Or should I?," You told him as you turned on the intercom. This whole interaction has just turned your cockiness levels up and, to be honest, that was probably not the best thing for the mission.
"Dad?" You said and almost immediately you heard Tony Stark's voice speaking.
"Yes, darling?" he answered.
"Can I go in now?" you questioned, chuckling as you saw how the foreigner tried, without success, to get out of the golden bubble. 
“Here’s the thing, I haven't gotten there yet, wait a minute. Oh, gentlemen!” More than five minutes had passed. You were about to make that fact evident when you heard an explosion.
“Oops sorry about that. Did it hit any of you guys?” Clint asked. 
“Not me.” Steve answered. 
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You turned around, neither the bubble nor the man were there. You slapped your forehead, knowing you should’ve focused more on that. A gust of wind came and out of nowhere and you were yanked to the floor, away from the fortress gate. Falling on your back, you cursed in pain.
"You didn’t see that coming?" said that russian voice mockingly. 
"Stupid, silly boy," you said, standing up.
“Language!” Your father yelled mockingly  on the intercom, you laughed.
"What’s so funny?" You chuckled as you realised the man did not know that you weren’t paying attention to what he said
"Nothing to do with you actually," You said. “Also, on that subject…” You raised your hands, launching with your right hand what would be the distraction beam, he obviously dodged it and you took advantage of his distraction. With your other hand, you lifted him up and put him back inside the bubble. He rolled his eyes.
“Oh please, not again!” he shouted and you laughed.
“Come on, Sonic. Already caught you twice, are your powers failing or what?” You mocked.
“Hey!” You heard the speedster call you. Turning you around, you raised your eyebrows. "At least tell me your name. I mean you already caught me, I want to meet the one who achieved such a feat." You couldn’t hide that you liked the praise, even if it was ironic, as you smiled. 
“Enlighten me, why would I do that?” You said, making fun of  what he said earlier. 
“Don't be mean, printsessa," he said, smiling like a soap opera heartthrob.You rolled your eyes, hiding your smile.
"My name’s something I’m saving for next time we meet so…," You waved and turned around, leaving the man inside of the light bubble. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit you kinda hoped you two did meet again. Someday. Something interrupts your line of thought: The mission.
"Can I come in now, damn it?" you shouted at the intercom. Steve growled but refrained from scolding you. Tony sighed.
“Friends, welcome to the Von Stucker resorts hotel, you can come in.” He said.
"It's about time!" Steve commented.
"Yes!" said a third voice, it was Clint. Following his voice was an explosion and a growl. It sounded like he was hurt.
"Barton?" You called, turning around to realise the bubble had broken, once again.
“He’s hurt!” said Nat's voice. “Could someone destroy that bunker? They know we are here!” she exclaimed.
Hulk's growl was heard everywhere, he had destroyed the bunker.
"Thank you," 
“Nat, take Barton to the helicarrier, Thor, you and I will stay here fighting against the last of Strucker's soldiers.” Steve was taking control of the situation, per usual.
"And for the love of God, watch your language!" your father said. 
"I'll go in," you announced as you heard your father sigh.
You entered the fortress, there were soldiers running, but they didn't pay much attention to you. So you just kept walking, staying alert.
Suddenly, you heard footsteps behind you, they were almost imperceptible, but there they were.
You raised your hand, golden sparks flying from it, and turned around ready to attack. A red aura collided with the amber lights. It was strong, and you felt like it wanted to get into your head. The owner of the scarlet red aura was a girl, refined features, her hair was brown, and her eyes were… strangely grey?
She reminded you of someone.
Ignoring her attempts to enter your mind, you shot a blast, making the girl stumble. Her aura was cut off as she flew against a wall.
"So there’s more mutants huh?" You grumbled. She looked at you, clearly annoyed.
The girl raised her hand and you raised yours. 
She was staring at you, a completely blank stare.
Until she smiled.
Everything was strange. You knew that girl had managed to sneak into your mind, but you didn't know what exactly she was doing.
You turned around, attempting to shoot her, but no light appeared. You didn’t have your suit anymore, in fact, you were no longer in Strucker's fortress. You were in New York. 
You heard a scream and looked above you, which was where the sound was coming from.
Oh surprise, you were underneath one of those Chitauri ships that the Avengers had defeated a long time ago, before you were even part of the team.
The rest of New York, however, did not seem to have lived that before. It seemed like the team hadn't made it yet.
"It's too tall Tony, stop it!" You heard Steve yelling at your dad. You turned to look at them, but weren’t able to see them anywhere.
“A few more metres” Your father whispered. If the timeline was the same, he must have been taking the missile that was currently heading to New York into space, passing through the gaping hole in the sky where the Chitauri were sneaking onto the planet.
If that was true, then Nat was to be with Dr. Selvig on the roof of Stark Tower trying to remove the Tesseract to close the portal.
Your dad was saving the world, everything was going great, why was the girl showing you this?
“TONY COME OUT NOW!” Steve shouted. The portal was closed, and Tony was not falling where he should have been falling.
Nerves and fear were taking over you as your hands itched and tears gathered in your eyes.
You tried to remind yourself this wasn't happening.
It wasn’t real.
However, it felt so real.
The emotions felt so real.
The portal closed, but your father did not fall through.
Wake up!
"Y/N!" Tony's voice shouted from a distance. As you opened your eyes, you jumped from where you were leaning.
Back in Strucker's fortress, and your dad was there, next to you. You sighed with relief.
"What happened, sunshine?" he said, worried by the tears that were coming out of your eyes. You smiled and hugged him.
"You don't know how happy I am that you are here, Dad," You told him as you let him go. He smiled fondly.
“So am I. We are going now. We have a sceptre to steal.”
You nodded and walked next to him. He left through the secret door that J.A.R.V.I.S discovered and you stayed behind, trying to get as much information as possible from the fortress.
“J.A.R.V.I.S, I want you to get all the information, whatever it is. Plans, documents, notes. And send a copy to Fury, he'll be pleased to know that Hydra's dirty secrets are in his mail.”
“Right away, Miss Stark.”
You sat on the floor, thinking about what that girl had projected on your brain.
None of it made sense.
Your father came out with the sceptre. There was a weird vibe to him. He looked… strange, sadder in comparison to minutes before. 
He took your hand and you left the fortress.
Once you got on the helicarrier, you decided to sit next to Cap. He was looking at Clint, who was lying on an improvised stretcher, all of you were sure that when Dr. Cho arrived, she would take good care of him. 
"Good job, Y/N," Nat told you from behind. You turned your head to smile at her.
But your smile didn't reach your eyes, still somewhat dazed by the vision.
When you arrived, you went straight to the lab to review all the information collected from Strucker's base, perhaps this way you would be able to find out who these altered people were and if he was single there were more. 
“J.A.R.V.I.S, tell Mr. Stark that I will be late for the party. I'll be investigating,” 
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cobaltfluff · 6 months
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a meme because i am delusional
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