#I mention Steve not partaking as much for a reason

[sp0o0kylights]

 Part Five Part Two / Part Six YOU ARE HERE. / Part Seven

A03

"No come back here and hug me dammit!"

"I told you it'd be funny." Gareth stage whispered to Steve the following Monday, as Eddie proceeded to cause his usual amount of chaos in the lunchroom.

Tiff just shook her head.

"Come on, just do it and then tell everyone I'm better!" Eddie shrieked again, loud enough to be heard across the school. Possibly into the parking lot, given the winces and glares their peers tossed Eddie's way.

Jeff had his own head in his hands having been Eddie's prior cuddle victim and still suffering the consequences from it.

"I hate you." He groaned, and every single person knew he was talking to Gareth. "I cannot believe you told him his stupid hugs didn't even compare to Steve's. He almost broke my back this morning!"

Which wasn't an understatement--Gareth himself had dodged his best friend's aggressive hugs only by bolting to his first class, then acting like a ninja as he snuck about all day.

He'd even dropped to the floor and army-crawled at one point.

Now he stayed close to Steve, blatantly using the jock as a meat shield.

"Anyone have any ideas on how we can get him to chill out?" Stewart asked, from where he'd taken refuge under the lunch table.

Their second eldest member put up with many things, but drew the line at bodily injury by overly affectionate metalhead.

"Same as always." Jeff grumbled, making sure Gareth saw his glare. "We wait him out."

"Tiff!" Eddie whined, whirling around, hands reaching out for her.

"You touch me Munson and I'll burn the trigonometry notes I promised you." Tiffany threatened without looking up from her book.

"Fine." Eddie wheeled right back around. "Graaaaant-!"

"This could take days!" Stewart complained, acting like a man caged. "I can't wait much longer!"

'Dramatic, the whole lot of them.' Gareth thought fondly, knowing he was just as bad.

"Okay. Seriously, how are we fixing this?" Jeff said sourly, as Grant once again picked Eddie up by his jacket and bodily threw him as far away as he could.

Like an eldritch being from a B horror movie, Eddie simply bounced back up and came for him again.

"His issue is that he thinks I'm the better cuddler, right? Nothing else?" Steve said thoughtfully.

"Yes." Groaned the other four in unison, as Grant laid a hand on Eddie's forehead, the latter pinwheeling his arms like a cartoon character.

Steve nodded once, before his face morphed into something devastatingly smug. "Yeah we're screwed."

Jeff switched targets from Gareth to glare at Steve instead. "Really Harrington?"

"I'm back to Harrington now? Jeff, man, you wound me." Steve faked a gasp, putting a hand over his heart.

It made Gareth grin, if only because Steve wouldn't have done that a month ago. "God I love when you're a bitch."

Steve looked over at him and winked.

"Just for that, we should make you cuddle with him." Stewart grumbled. "Tell him he can decide for himself who's better!"

Which of course killed the playful look on Steve's face.

Two pairs of shoes proceeded to kick at Stewart (who dodged Jeff's only to be nailed by Tiffany's far more tactical aim.)

Except when Gareth though about it, it actually wasn't a half-bad idea.

If one pitched it right.

"You know," Gareth said slowly, a plan forming. It was half-baked, but it'd work. "--you could end this pretty easily if you did. You  have the power."

"Are we being serious right now?" Jeff grumped. "This does not feel like we're being serious."

Gareth ignore him.

"You up for one last cuddle, Sir Carrington?"  He asked, playfully.

He got a flat look in return. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously suggesting the solution here is for me and Eddie to cuddle."

"I am indeed." Gareth said with a grin. "So long as it's an absolutely terrible cuddle."

That got an interesting reaction.

"Good luck, I'm an amazing cuddler." Steve huffed, offended--and it looked like he actually believed it.

A curiosity, considering even with everyone announcing themselves before touching him he still got jumpy.

"Then pretend." Gareth wheedled. "You don't even have to do it for that long. Sneeze in his ear and he'll be done for."

He got a few grossed out looks for that, but it was worth it all to see Steve growing more comfortable with the idea.

"If I were to do anything of the sort I wouldn't sneeze in his ear." The jock retorted, but he looked contemplative.

"I'm sure you could come up with something else. " Gareth suggested, and gave his best, award winning smile as he said it. "You're creative when cornered."

No ulterior motives here, no sir!

"I know what you're doing, Gareth." Steve said, calling him out immediately. "But I might be convinced to take a hit for the team--for a price. My reputation would be on the line."

"What do you want?" Stewart asked immediately, more than a little desperate as Eddie carried on in the background.

"Well..." Steve trailed off, slowly meeting each and every one of them in the eye. "what are you offering?"

"You know what?" Jeff said, putting his head back in his hands. " Just for that, you and Gareth both are on my shit list."

"I'll bake you those marble brownies you wanted and get right back off it." Steve said, the smug air only growing as Jeff sighed loudly.

"Name your price, Harrington." Stewart said, talking over Jeff's second, overly dramatic sigh. "You want some D&D treasure, or an item for your character? You got it. You want a fucking," He paused, eyes scrunching up in thought. "--new basketball? Or whatever sport ball you're into right now?"

"Not even close." Steve told him.

Jeff sighed a third time, loud and obnoxious.

"Why does this always fall down to me?" Tiff asked the ceiling, as though God himself might respond back with the answer. She tilted her head back down, aiming to make eye contact with Steve. "You're in Rucker's class right? I'll write your poly-sci paper. Highest grade I will guarantee is a B, and that is because it would be suspicious if you looked like you suddenly had strong, A-grade opinions on current, geopolitical policies."

Steve snapped and pointed towards her. "Sold!" He called, mimicking an auctioneer.

Smooth as butter, he turned towards Hurricane Eddie. "Hey Munson!"

In two seconds the jock had summoned that cocky persona of his, wearing a smarmy smile like a cloak. It was getting easier and easier to tell which "bitchy Steve" was the real one and which one was a total front.

(Tiffany had decided the man was a mean girl at his core and honestly, the label stuck.

But Mean Girl Steve was a hell of a lot different than King Steve--or any of the other overly confident swaggering personas Steve adopted like a second skin.)

For for all the preparation he'd had, was still rigid most of the time Gareth had occupied his lap, only relaxing when the younger boy had gotten Eddie so wound up their eldest friend couldn't form coherent sentences.

Now, as Steve strode over and issued the challenge of a cuddle off during the next Hellfire game, he was already less stiff.

Eddie had that effect on people. Particularly ones who had crushes on him.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever been involved in." Tiffany complained.

"Is it Tiff? Is it really?" Jeff challenged as he finally sat up.

"She's definitely forgetting the purple griffin incident." Grant said, completely ignoring what was going down on the other end of the table as he took advantage of Eddie being distracted to make his escape.

"Fine." Tiff conceded before anyone could list anything else off, "But it's at least in the top five."

"This Friday, Harrington." Eddie announced loudly then, fire in his eyes and a finger in Steve's face. "Me and you. It is on."

"Hope you're ready to lose." Steve taunted.

It was hilarious as it was ridiculous.

Which meant of course, that dumb shit had to get in the way of it.

xXx

Steve backslid the next morning.

Worse, he kept backsliding, growing worse throughout the week until the person left looked a whole lot like the guy they’d dragged to their table all those months ago.

He sat silently next to Eddie during lunch, only speaking if asked a direct question, all banter and playful bitchiness gone.

He avoided Hellfire’s members in the hallway, Stewart reporting he had been uncharacteristically silent during their one shared class.

Most damning?

He’d flinched when Eddie had done their dumb little “shoulder bumping” routine.

Which officially meant that ghost Steve was back.

(“I didn’t realize how Steve was our little ray of sunshine and positivity until he stopped being it.” Tiff complained, idly spinning a pencil in the library. “Worse, I didn’t think I’d miss it.”

Gareth, who definitely wasn’t skipping again, agreed wholeheartedly.)

Not even Eddie's antics got a smile out of Steve. He really tried too, to the point where Gareth was starting to worry his best friend was going to do something dramatic just to get a little chuckle.

Steve at least, picked up on the fact he was freaking out all of Hellfire when Grant started to get blunt with his questions.

A part of Gareth (the part that appreciated Grant’s bluntness, instead of the rest of him, that wanted to duck and cover in case it made things worse) was curious if this would finally get Steve to open up; but instead it just made things worse.

Within two direct “No really dude, what's wrong?” ’s, Steve retired the haunted act and instead brought the downright freaky return of one Hawkins' jock's doing a real good job at pretending he was okay.

Pity for him this wasn't Tommy H or the rest of the public Steve was trying to fool.

This was a group of people who tended to be hyper aware of things, ranging from their surroundings to their people. (And then went on to play, as Steve regularly teased them, “one giant math game about it.”)

Not a single one of them was fooled by the act, or the evasive answers Steve pulled out of his ass when the rest of them all, individually, in their own way, tried to figure out if their newest member was okay or just having a few bad days.

"He told me he wasn't feeling good." Jeff said, worrying his lip with his teeth when they all finally convened together after school to discuss it.

"Are we choosing to buy that?" Tiffany asked, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. "He's been off since Tuesday. It's Thursday."

Grant huffed an agreement, arms crossed over his chest.

"Devils advocate, people are typically sick for more than one day." Stewart pointed out. "Dudes probably got allergies or something, it is the end of May."

"It's not allergies." Gareth said flatly.

Allergies usually came with symptoms like coughing and sneezing.

They did not come with vacant stares and falling over one's feet when their friends said hello in the hallway.

"Well clearly he doesn't want to talk about it so maybe he'll just…work himself out of whatever it is." Jeff reasoned. "I don't know if we should really push him about it."

"And miss out on another week's worth of baking?" Stewart bemoaned, as if Steve's lack of treats was the sole reason they were concerned.

Tiff swiped at him with her paperback.

Interestingly, Eddie had yet to say much on the matter. Everyone knew he was just as worried. The guy was a secret teddy bear, and they all still knew to warn him if a dog so much as got hurt in a movie. Worse, Steve was one of his "sheepies" as he so lovingly called them all, and was notoriously defensive of Hellfire as a whole.

Gareth had been eyeing him throughout their little gathering, watching as his best friend tapped his foot anxiously.

The guy seemed lost in his own head and while it wasn't completely unusual, it too, was odd behavior.

Gareth squinted at him, making eye contact and asking if he was alright with the kind of subtle facial expressions only best friends could pull.

Eddie didn't respond, but instead, looked away.

'That's a no.' Gareth thought, as the conversation around them wound down, without anyone coming up with any solid plans on what they were going to do about the Steve situation.

This is exactly how he ended up following Eddie home.

"Inviting ourselves over I see." The elder teen muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Gareth chased him to his van, hopping into the passenger seat instead of heading for his bicycle.

"It's a good night for a smoke sess." Gareth responded casually.

"You hate smoking weed." Eddie returned with a snort. "You prefer edibles."

"Just think of what we could do with Harrington's baking skills." Gareth replied wistfully--but made sure to watch his friend.

There it was. The slightest of weird expressions, flitting over Eddie's face like a shadow before he hid it back into whatever cage it escaped from.

"You're worried." Gareth guessed. Not like that was a hard one.

"Aren't we all, Gare-Bear?" Eddie returned, eyes never leaving the road.

He pretended like he couldn't feel Gareth scanning him, taking in the too tense shoulders and the shuttered, guarded look on his face.

"You know something." Gareth guessed after a moment.

The declaration made his best friend flinch, hands squeezing tight on the wheel.

'Got you.'

"Are you going to spill or do I have to blackmail it out of you?"

"Please Gary you have nothing you could blackmail me with." Eddie challenged with a snort. "I am shameless."

A challenge that could not be ignored, if only because Gareth wanted to remind him who had had the upper hand since Steve had crashed into Hellfire.

"Really? So you wouldn't mind if I show Steve those photos of the time we dressed up as a Barbie “ken doll” band for Jeff’s sister’s birthday? You know, the one were you were wearing that pink boa and the star glasses--”

A hand shot out, clapping Gareth over the mouth.

"Thank you, I got it!" Eddie said, voice an octave higher than normal. "Why do you still even have that!?"

"My mom." Gareth managed to get out, even if it was horribly muffled between Eddie's bony fingers.

"Curse that woman's thirst for nostalgia and scrapbooks." Eddie hissed, as if his mom was some grand villain.

"You love her crafts, you ass." Gareth rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth when Eddie finally removed his hand. "Now spill."

"I'm not sure this is what's causing it." The elder cautioned after a pause just long enough to be dramatic. "But rumor has it his parents are home."

"You think they're why he's acting all…" Gareth trailed off, unsure of what to compare Steve to and not wanting to say a kicked dog.

Eddie hummed in agreement. "Every time I walk into Steve's house, the place starts off feeling like a living tomb. There’s got to be a reason for that, and the only one I can think of is that his parents want that. The tomby-ness."

Gareth leaned back in his seat, contemplating. Turned the idea of Steve's mysterious parents over in his head, comparing it to how the guy's house did have a sort of museum quietness to it.

It wasn't that the place was huge, or even that Steve was typically its solo occupant beyond the occasional weekends one or both of his parents "popped in."

It was the perfectness of it.

How on any given day a photographer could show up to take pictures and the place would be camera ready.

A sort of--trophy house.

He went on to tell his best friend this.

"It’s like a shrine to their success." Eddie added an hour later, when they'd resettled onto his couch, trying to break down just what exactly about Steve's house made it so weird.

They'd shared a beer each--some gross kind that a cat couldn't have gotten buzzed off of, and Gareth had just finished helping Eddie select their chosen flower to roll when an awkward sound erupted throughout the trailer.

If Gareth knew any better, he'd say it almost sounded like someone was knocking on the shitty aluminum door.

Couldn't be though, because he'd never in his life heard someone knock--Eddie's uncle Wayne had a key, and every member of Hellfire was aware that the window in Eddie's room had a broken lock.

To get it open you just had to push at it from a specific angle, and with a few tugs it'd come right up for you.

The noise came again, this time a little louder.

Gareth looked to Eddie, and found his friend holding all the weed.

Understanding flashed between them, and Gareth stood up to answer the door as Eddie magically made the drugs disappear.

Thankfully, it wasn't the cops.

"Hey." Steve said, standing awkwardly on Eddie's porch, looking like he desperately wanted inside but wasn't sure he'd be allowed in. "Eddie said I could just come over if I needed to…?"

He trailed off, awkwardly miming smoking with his fingers.

Gareth couldn't hold in the snort.

"You're in luck man, because I just finished rolling a few." He said, stepping back to let their wayward jock in.

"Hey Stevie." Eddie drawled, now in the process of making the weed reappear. "Come in, have a seat, take a puff."

Rather than sit on the admittedly small couch, Steve chose instead to drop his ass to the floor, leaving the open spot above him to Gareth. He waited until the younger was seated before he leaned back, broad shoulders brushing both his friends legs as he relaxed.

Eddie’s hand twitched, as though he wanted to run it through Steve’s hair and thought better of it.

(Knowing him as Gareth did, that was very likely exactly what the weird little movement of his was.)

“You wanna tell us what’s goin’ on?” Eddie said softly, long after all three of them had an inhale of the joint Eddie had lit, sitting in relaxed silence. "Cause you've been pretty down, Stevie."

"Yeah." Steve agreed hollowly. "Sorry."

Eddie nudged his leg with a foot, then offered him the blunt again. "Don't apologize man, we can't all be sunshine and rainbows."

“You’d be surprised at how many people expect an apology for just that.” Steve muttered.

Gareth traded careful looks over Steve’s head, Eddie turning back and resolutely plowing on.

“You don’t have to, but talking tends to make people feel better.”

“Does it?” Steve asked, before taking a slow, measured inhale of the joint.

Idly he added; "Gareth you can't roll for shit."

"Fuck you dude!" The younger teen exclaimed, instantly offended, but knew a redirect when he saw one. "You try rolling them then!" He snatched the joint out of Steve's hands, huffing audibly.

It was an offer. If Steve didn't want to take the opening Eddie had given him, he could instead take the out Gareth had given.

The option reminded him of Alice in Wonderland (Gareth’s actual favorite movie, even if he tells everyone else it's The Empire Strikes Back)

Specifically when Alice was lost, standing before a split path and asking advice from the Cheshire Cat.

Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" Alice asks.

The Cheshire Cat spins its head, smiling its smile as it answers;“ That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."

Steve proved himself to be a stronger man that Gareth had given him credit for, and took the harder path.

"My parents are home." He said, eyes glued to the TV in front of him, as if that would make the conversation easier.

Perhaps it did.

Eddie to his credit, didn't treat the declaration as anything important. "Yeah? They bring you something nice back from New York?"

"Florida this time and no."

Steve fussed with a thread on his sweater for a moment, a single yellow thread unspooling from the end. It looked like he’d been tugging at it a lot, a small imperfection on an otherwise expensive looking piece of clothing.

"Apparently I've been such a disappointment they're demanding I get a job." He began again. "They want me to learn the realities of hard work."

Gareth traded puzzled glances with Eddie.

Steve had never shied from hard work.

Everyone had heard the story of how he’d won over every coach in Hawkins' High’s favor. It was practically school legend, since he was the first freshmen to take up and finish some bullshit exercise challenge they hosted every year.

The guy even had a herd of some of the most obnoxious children he looked after, without pay.

There was no way the source of whatever was eating at him was a summer job.

Or perhaps, not just a summer job.

"Summer jobs fucking suck, but I hear that new mall’s finally finished.” Gareth said hesitantly. “You could probably get in somewhere there before you head off to college.”

"I'm not going to college. Didn't get into any." Steve said flatly.

Ah-ha.

"I only applied to the one Nancy made me." He added, still refusing to look at either of them. "Couldn't bring myself to apply to any of the others."

Which--odd, but it wasn't the oddest thing ever. Some people just didn't like school, or traditional learning methods.

No matter how much Gareth's counselor insisted otherwise.

"My dad found that out too." Steve said after a moment.

"College isn't the fucking answer to life." Gareth continued. "There's plenty of other things you can do."

Eddie’s head cocked, like a dog who’d been presented with a puzzle.

Steve shrugged. "That's not my issue with it, but the old man thinks it is. He keeps insisting that the free rides are over now." His voice kicked into a deep mockery of his fathers at the end, the condescending tone coming through loud and clear. “Thinks I'm here to screw my girlfriend and party my life away. Wouldn't hear me about not wanting to go to college, at all. Definitely didn't care that I broke up with Nancy." The last part was muttered, almost said more to himself and for himself than it was for them.

Eddie’s head tilted the other way.

"Did you have an idea of what you wanted to do?" Gareth asked. He figured it they knew, they might be at least able to help.

He got a shrug in response.

Gareth was about to open his mouth--probably to put his foot in it, but hell if Steve wanted help brainstorming what he did want to do with his life, or at least get positive support from someone who wasn't a rich asshole, it might as well start here.

Eddie beat him to the punch though, because as usual, Eddie was able to track the weird unspoken thing that no one else could pick up on.

"It's the kids, isn't it?" Eddie asked softly. Reverently. "You don't want to leave Hawkins, because of the kids."

Steve took another sip of beer, waving off the joint Gareth offered him. For someone who'd come to smoke he'd barely touched it or the beer, but then no one here would push.

It was pretty obvious, (to Gareth anyway) that the weed had been a flimsy excuse to begin with.

"When those damn kids started trying to trap the--dogs." Steve started, correcting his slip so smoothly Gareth almost didn't pick up that he'd intended to say something else. “I was the only damn adult they could find.”

Steve gave up fiddling with his sweater to tug angrily at his beer tab, twisting and pulling at it.

"They had figured out where the dogs would be. Had an entire meat bucket they wanted to use as bait and but I was the only damn person to try and at least wrangle the little shits. You wanna know how they found me?" He picked up steam now, and Eddie couldn't even be satisfied that he'd managed to hit the nail on the head because clearly whatever was happening here was the actual thing Steve needed to get off his chest.

"Football practice?" Gareth asked mostly to fill in the tension-filled pause, and then ducked from the swat Eddie aimed his way.

Steve blew out a harsh, mocking breath.

"Dustin found me on the way to Nancy's house, where I was planning on apologizing. Had flowers and everything."

Oh.

Steve's tone said a hell of a lot more than that, the raw emotion making Gareth's own stomach roll.

A careful glance showed an equally punched-out expression on Eddie's face, the metalhead having physically reared back like Steve's words had struck him.

"What were you apologizing for?" He asked, recovering faster than Gareth could.

"Honestly man? I don't know." Steve laughed then, a harsh little disbelieving noise. "I just knew Nancy had said--well she said some shit while drunk, and wasn't able to say some shit sober, and I realized after that maybe I--I rushed her or something you know?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a self soothing behavior. "Or that I did, fuck I don't know. She's Nancy Wheeler, she's smarter than me by a longshot, so if she was mad, than I figured I must be at fault." Steve shrugged, like that was a fact of life.

Eddie interrupted immediately. "She's not smarter than you."

"I--what?"

"Nancy isn't smarter than you.' Eddie repeated firmly. "She's booksmart, Stevie. School smart. Nancy Wheeler absolutely owns tests and papers and things you need to study for, and she’s a hell of a researcher--but she's not people smart."

"What?" Steve repeated incredulously and there Gareth caught a flash of bitchy Steve.

The real one, who'd been shoved aside by the apathetic version.

"Have you ever seen that girl get fixated on something? She's tenacious, gets her teeth in and won't let go.” Eddie snapped his teeth, shaking his head while growling like a dog.

Gareth rolled his eyes, but a ghost of a smile graced Steve’s face.

“But she hasn't figured out how that hurts people yet. She's caught up in getting the results. She's not intentionally unkind, she's just--a little out of touch." Eddie flopped back against the couch, making a grabby gesture for the joint Gareth now held. “People like you--”

Here, he poked Steve in the chest, before reaching past him to wave his hand obnoxiously in Gareth’s face for the joint (and get smacked at for the effort) “are people smart.”

"That's not--no." Steve protested head jerking from Eddie's fingers to Eddie's face, but it was weak, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes.” Eddie mocked, but it was in jest, proven by the easy, soft smile he gave Steve. “You said it yourself. The kids go to you, man. They go to you even now, when Nancy or Jonathan could be driving them all over town. You get people; how they work, how they tick, what makes them happy or sad, and people are drawn to you because of that.”

“Jonathan drives.” Steve muttered in disagreement.

“And yet we all witnessed the clown car act when all those kids came out of your backseat two weekends ago.” Eddie refuted. “You’re just as smart as Nancy is, Steve. Just in a different way.”

Steve frowned.

“My parents don’t see it like that.”

“Your parents can get fucked, Sweetheart.”

That was pushing it, but Steve didn't comment on the nickname. Never commented on any nicknames Eddie came up with, beyond the occasional eye roll.

Which is right about when the phone rang.

They all glanced towards it, then down at their respective watches.

It was well past midnight.

"Think that's Wayne?" Gareth asked, eyebrows raising as Eddie stood to answer the phone.

His friend just shrugged, before picking up.

"Munson Mortuary, you stab em we slab em." He chirped as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Tiffy-Taffy isn't it kinda late for--whoa." Eddies easy smile flipped, back going ramrod straight. "Slow down, what happened?" And oh, shit, that was Eddie's "somethings wrong and I'm going to fix it" voice.

Gareth sat up, making sure the joint Eddie had put down was out as he stared worriedly at Eddie.

"Okay. Gareth and Steve are with me, we're all coming." Eddie finished, prompting Steve to also sit up. "Stay there and for the love of God, tell Stewart not to touch anything else."

"What happened." Steve and Gareth demanded as one.

It'd be funny if the look on Eddie's face wasn't so serious.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to break my promise about not going to the lab, Steve." He said, a hand going to tug anxiously at his hair.

"What?" Steve said, immediately on the defensive.

Then; "Why?"

"Because all our darling friends went to the Hawkin's lab without us. Apparently they ran into some kids on the way and now Stewart's stuck in a hole."

“All of them?” Gareth questioned, because sure, yeah he could see Stewart doing it. Could see Grant and even Jeff really, but Tiffany? Out exploring an abandoned lab that had killed people?

On a school night?

"She's gonna give us the full story when we get there, she called from the nearest payphone. Had some kid who kept interrupting her so she just gave me the basics, but apparently Stewart is really stuck, and for some reason the damn kids won't let anyone try to get him from some other door. They keep saying it's not safe or some shit." Eddie's anxious tugging grew as he moved to snatch up his wallet and keys, walking and talking as it were.

Gareth had expected a reaction out of Steve then, but  what he hadn't expected was Steve to surge to his feet in a near panic.

"Kids!?" He shouted, eyes wide and frantic.

Eddie flinched, but Gareth knew immediately what the jock was thinking.

"You don't think they're your feral pack of kids--do you?" He asked.

"It's always them so yes, yes I do." Steve snarled and for the first time that week, the guy looked alive.

Gareth just wished it was under better circumstances.

#steddie #adopt a jock #once again we are discussing Nancy #no hate #plus its an OUTSIDER pov #Nancy does come in later in AaJ but what were seeing is Eddie seeing the fallout of Stoncy or whatever that pairing is called pre s3 #She's a complex character and I like playing with the effect their relationship and general dynamic has on Steve #Steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth emerson #tw drugs #tw weed #tw drinking #(beer) #steve harringtons shitty parents #no one panic eddie does not drive under the influence even if it is the 80s lol #I mention Steve not partaking as much for a reason #lab tiiiime #poor Steve hes havin a go of it #hey we're getting closer to adding Robin!

[mykingdommusic]

MARCO KEHREN comment about "Ode To Acts Of Murder, Dystopia And Suicide"

Frankly this album should never have seen the light of day, wasn’t it for Francesco Palumbo (the owner of My Kingdom Music) asking me to do another album whilst Deinonychus  was in hibernation for the duration of 9 years at that time (from 2007 until 2016). In 2008 I decided to shift away from metal and do something completely different for my liking. So I started a martial-industrial outfit by the name of Nihil Novi Sub Sole and released two albums with that band in 2009 and 2018, in between some live gigs took place in Germany and Spain. It was in late 2015 when My Kingdom Music contacted me and asked for the awakening of Deinonychus. As I really hadn’t played any guitars nor composed any metal for more than 10 years ("Warfare Machines" was composed in early 2006), I wasn’t really sure about the whole thing. But in the same period (2015) I was also asked by Dayal Patterson (The cult never dies); to appear in one of his books (Black Metal: into the abyss 2016). There actually still was a certain interest in Deinonychus during those hibernation years (interviews, gig offers and obviously the craving for a new album). There certainly was a good reason for Deinonychus to go into hibernation: I simply had no drive anymore to continue with Deinonychus whilst I had stepped out of the scene years earlier in 2001. I just felt shifting away from it all and thought it simply makes no sense to do something without any passion. However in early 2016 I decided to give it another go and started to compose the "Ode…" album in late spring / early summer 2016. The first steps in composing and playing where quite disturbing as I hadn’t played for 10 years, nor I had any plan what the album should sound like or become as a whole. Three months in composing I got that vibe again, finished the album in another couple months;  to record it again with Steve Wolz on drums who also did the "Insomnia" album. For the drum-recordings we went to record with Christian Moos in his Spacelab studio in Grefrath-Germany. Everything else was recorded under guidance of Markus Stock in his Klangschmiede Studio-E in Bavaria-Germany. Markus also was responsible for the key-parts on this album. Last but not least I have to mention Shane Davison from Australia here, who consistently partakes in Deinonychus with traditionally 3 lyrics per album, ever since the release of "Ark of Thought" back in 1997. Shane also gave this album the title, so… much gratitude to you my long-term friend!

What can I  say? Most people have said that this album is the best Deinonychus album, it got amazing feedback and was a solid sculptured piece of Black Metal entwined with heavy laden Doom parts and an eerie atmosphere which certainly has been created with heart-blood.   Everything else is up to you to decide. Thanks for buying! 

BUY "Bleak & Vile" exclusive Box: https://bit.ly/3W5KOTy BUY "Ode To Acts Of Murder, Dystopia And Suicide" A5digiCD / Gatefold LP: https://bit.ly/3tkghnC

[diamond-coral]

A Game

Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?

Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!

As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.

“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.

“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.

You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke. 

“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” 

“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.

“Of course, sir.”

“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.

“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”

“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”

“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.

“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”

You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.

Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.

You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.

The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview.  Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.

You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.

You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.

“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”

The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.

You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.

“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.

“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”

“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.

“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.

“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes. 

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”  

He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.

“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”

“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”

Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.

All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.

Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.

“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”

The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.

When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.

“You’re on the clock.”

At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.

But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.

“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.

You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.

“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.

Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.

“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”

Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.

“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.

“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”

You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.

“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”

Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.

“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.

“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”

“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.

You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please dont,” you croaked.

Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.

“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.

Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?” 

He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).

“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.

Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.

Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.

“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.

You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.

Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.

Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.

Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.

You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.

Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.

“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.

“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.

“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.

“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.

You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?”

It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.

That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.

“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”

Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.

“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”

She began unbuttoning her pants.

“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”

#sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #thor x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!sam wilson #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!natasha x reader #dark!sam wilson x reader #dark!thor #dark!steve smut

[vendettaparker]

What a Dumbass [P.P]

Summary: Peter’s mistake leads to you being injured. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Swearing, like a substantial amount, suggestive content kinda, gun shot wound, and flustered!Peter 

a/n: I really liked writing this. I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the dialogue. and the mistake peter made to cause the whole set-up of the story is so funny to me. like i can legit see him making this mistake. also, i’m gonna make a permanent tag list, so please send me an ask or message me if you want to be on it! <3

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter Benjamin Parker is a fucking dumbass. All the time mostly. Most of the time his dumbassery leads to a lot of annoyed avengers, a lot of clean up, and a lot of spilled secrets. Hence why like three people who definitely shouldn’t know he is Spider-man do. But every once in while his idiocy can lead to an unexpected happily ever after, at least until he fucks something up again. 

     This particular fuck up has yet to be determined as a happy accident or your new 13th reason. It all started when that spider bitch decided it’d be a good idea to watch some explicit content on his laptop. Now, this wasn’t particularly an unknown activity for him to partake in, since we all know about his little impromptu purchase in Germany, but unbeknownst to this dork, his aunt was in the next room over working on a tear in his suit. And to make matters worse, he accidentally just so happened to purchase a subscription using said aunt’s credit card that was pre-setup in his laptop. 

     Now May is a very understanding woman. Very sex-positive, very loving, and inclusive; the whole shebang really. So when she happened to catch this idiot doing what he most certainly shouldn’t have been doing, she wasn’t mad, just thoroughly disturbed. Then she got the notification about the purchase. That was a bit more taboo in her eyes. So Peter was grounded from patrolling for a week and his laptop privileges were revoked for two weeks. That was fucking merciful compared to what this whole fuck up put you through. 

     At the school that following Monday, Peter spent the whole first, second, fourth, and lunch period trying to convince you to take over patrol for a week. Sure, you could definitely handle it, not to pat yourself on the back or anything, but you were significantly stronger than Peter, so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But you just really didn’t want to. Peter had his ‘Peter Tingle’ to help him find danger, while you’d actually have to look. It just seemed harder for you to do than it would be for him. 

     “Why are you even grounded?” You sighed after Peter's 3rd time bringing up the possibility of you patrolling for him at lunch. 

     “He got caught watching and buying p—” Ned started laughing.

     “Ned! Shut up!” Peter yelled, slapping his hand over his friend's mouth. 

     “How has your identity not been leaked yet, Jesus Christ.” You mumbled, giggling. You flipped through your chemistry textbook, writing notes to prepare for Friday’s quiz. 

     “Yeah, and how come you didn’t know May was home?” Ned pushed Peter’s hand away. “Where was your ‘Peter Tingle’ then?” 

     “She’s not a threat, dude. But shit, I really wish my tingle detected her.” Peter groaned, a deep blush covering his features. “Please (Y/N). I really, really don’t wanna leave Queens without any protection for a week. I’ll try to convince May to let me go out on the weekend, so really it’s only five days.” 

     “I guess I could help you out, but you owe me. I should really spend this time studying for my chemistry test. Iron bitch is gonna have my head on a spike if I fail another chem test.” You said, highlighting more notes. 

     “Okay! Delmar’s for a week, anytime, anywhere.” Peter said putting his hand out for you to shake. 

     “Make it a month, I know my worth.” 

     Peter hesitated, but eventually gave in, “Fine, but you better do a good job.” 

        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     So now you were stuck patrolling from 8:30 to 11:00 every night. It wasn't bad per se, and nothing too eventful happened. You stopped a small convenience store robbery, gave a few kids some tips at the skatepark, ran some errands for an old lady, and saved a cat from a tree. Thursday night was the real kicker though. Your night had barely started and you accidentally got in the middle of a drug deal between some smaller mob and a real messed-up junkie. This should’ve been an easy takedown, only six people in total that needed to be taken out, but like was mentioned before, you don’t have Peter’s goddamn, stupid fucking tingle. So after taking all six of the perps out you started to walk away after alerting the police. Unfortunately, one of those assclowns had come to, and grabbed the gun a few feet away from him and shot it towards you. The bullet went through your thigh and out the other side. Screaming in shock and pain, you used your own throwing knives and knocked the gun out of the mobster’s hand, then you proceeded to knock him out again with a few good punches to his noggin, maybe a few more, just for good measure. But this wound would need to be cleaned and stitched up. And if you went back to the Tower, Steve and Tony would give you an earful about “watching your surroundings” and “being more careful”. So in a moment of pure adrenaline and desperation, you texted Peter. 

You: are you home

Spider-Dork: Yeah, why?

You: i’ll be there in 5 

Spider-Dork: What? Why? Is everything ok?

Spider-Dork: Hello??? (Y/N)????

(Y/N) declined (3) calls 

Spider-Dork: Answer my calls idiot. 

     Peter’s texting and constant calling was cut short from a crash in his room. 

     “(Y/N)? Is that you?” Peter called from the couch in the living room. 

     “Yeah, can I borrow a t-shirt?” You called, fumbling around accidentally knocking over another lamp. “Oops, sorry!”

     “Uh, yeah sure. In the closet!” Peter called back pausing his show, prepared to make his way over to you. 

     “And some sweats?” You called back, blood dripping all over Peter’s hardwood floor. 

     Peter got up to make his way to his room. “Yeah, second drawer on the left side.” He said as he made his way to his bedroom. Knowing you were in there, most likely changing, he knocked. “You decent?” 

     “Nope, not really. I need a pair of your boxers too, though.” You called through the door, now seeing that the blood splattered on your underwear as well. “Also, bring the first aid kit when you come in.” 

     ‘What? Why?” Peter said in a more stressed tone, pushing his way into the room, completely ignoring the fact that you were very much not decent. “Holy shit.” He said seeing you out of your suit, in your bra and underwear, blood dripping down your right leg, pooling onto the floor. Your hand, red and bloody, pressed onto what he only assumed was the wound and blood seeping through your fingers. 

     “Bring a mop too.” 

     Peter ran out of the room to grab the first aid kit, plus some extra bandages and a cleaning solution. When he came back in he found you in the same state, standing in the middle of the room, eyebrows furrowed in pain, clutching your right thigh. 

     “What the hell happened?” He gasped, motioning for you to sit on his bed. You hesitated, not wanting to mess up his sheets. He seemed to notice your thought process quickly adding, “I have to wash my sheets anyway.” 

     “Gross.” You mumbled, scrunching up your face in disgust and finally settling down on his bed. 

     “Move your hand and tell me what happened,” Peter said kneeling on the floor next to the bed, positioned right at your hips. You removed your hand, bloody instantly seeping onto the bed. Peter winced looking at the hole in your leg, quickly grabbing the peroxide and dumping heaps of it onto your leg, much to your distaste. 

     “I got shot.” You stated as he cleaned the blood around the hole with alcohol pads.

     “Well, no shit. I mean by who and how?” 

     “Mobster. Sneaky bitch got me while I was walking away.” You winced as Peter inspected the wound further. 

     “I need to stitch this up. Did it go all the way through?” He said lifting your leg to look underneath for an exit wound. 

     “Yeah.” Peter found the exit wound and held your leg up with one hand, pouring peroxide on the back of your thigh with the other. 

     “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)! This looks really nasty.” Peter scolded, setting your leg back down and prepping the needle and sutures. “What if this was in your chest? Or—or if you didn’t get here in time? You could’ve bled out!” 

     “Well sorry that I don’t have your stupid tingle to help me out when I’m being fucking shot at!” You yelped, gripping the bedsheets. 

     “You don’t need spidey sense, you need fucking common sense,” Peter mumbled, stitching his first suture.

     “What the fuck did you just say?” You looked at him incredulously. 

     “I— uh, nothing.” Peter huffed, focusing back on stitching you up.

     “This is your all your fault, to begin with!” You accused, shifting uncomfortably, due to the needle constantly being stuck into your leg. “You’re the one that begged me to go on patrol for you! You’re the dumb bitch that got caught watc—” 

     “Ok! Shut up! For God’s sake, you’re never gonna let me live that down.” Peter groaned, finishing up the last stitch. “Flip over.” He commanded, pushing at the side of your waist to help with the movement. 

     “Well, it was fucking dumb. Don’t you check to make sure nobody’s home? God, we all know you’re a vocal bitch too.” You said, fully situated on your stomach. 

     “What the fuck is that suppose to mean!?” He gasped, prepping another needle. 

     “You’re a sensitive boy.” You shrugged, wincing when Peter started his next stitch. 

     “I-I am not sensitive! I’m emotionally and physically staunch!” He defended, going in for another stitch. 

     You just raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Sure, whatever you say, babe.” You winked at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss. 

     “You're a jerk,” Peter mumbled, finishing up his stitching job. “A jerk with a fucked up leg.” 

     You hummed, quite amused. Peter got up and started to collect his medical supplies. He shuffled out of the room to put everything away. When he returned you were trying to get up and walk, wincing at every slight movement. 

     “Here, let me just—” Peter lifted you up, bridal style. A small yelp coming from you when a sharp pain shot through your leg. “Sorry.”

     “It’s fine. Can you help me get dressed?” You said as he walked you over to his desk and set you down in his desk chair. 

     “Sure.” Peter blushed, painfully aware of your lack of clothes. He picked out some clothes from his closet and drawers. He helped you into them, wallowing in the uncomfortable silence, taking in each whimper and wince from you whenever he brushed against your thigh. 

     “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He sighed after you were all dressed. “This is my fault.” 

     You looked at his distraught face, feeling bad for initially blaming him for the events of tonight. “No, Pete. It’s fine. I should’ve made sure all of the guys were knocked out.” You put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     “No, I should’ve been more careful when I was watching that stuff. I have my spidey sense, I would’ve been able to avoid getting shot. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get bit by a radioactive spider.”

     “Pete, really, I’ll be better by next week anyway. It’s fine.” 

     Peter shook his head, sighing. “I just feel so bad, I shouldn’t have forced patrolling on you.” You hugged him and rubbed his back soothingly. “It’s my fault you got hurt.” 

     “Peter stop. It’s just an unfortunate accident.” You mumbled, hugging him closer. “It could’ve happened to anyone.”

     “But it didn’t happen to just anyone (Y/N), it happened to you. And I caused it. I-I don't know what I’d do if something ever happened to you. What if it was worse?”

     You sighed, pulling away from Peter and cupping his face, seeing the regret and shame pooling in his eyes. Without much thought, you pulled him closer, slowly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. Truly getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the feeling of perfection. 

     Peter’s eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he was kissing you back, reveling in the feeling he’s been dreaming about for months. You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter flushed at your actions, unable to stop the wide smile crossing his features. 

     “Sorry,” You mumbled sheepishly, “just needed to shut you up for a second.”

     “Maybe I should talk more, just to see what happens,” Peter smirked, pulling you in for another shorter, but just as sweet, kiss. 

     You hummed against his lips. “I really like you. Even when you're a dumbass.” You sighed against his lips.

     “The feeling is mutual.” 

     “Rude. I’m not a dumbass.” You gasped in faux offense. 

     “You’re the one with a bullet wound.” he deadpanned 

     “You’re the one who got caught watchin—”

     “(Y/N)!”

#avengers #peter parker fluff #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x avenger!reader #spiderman fluff #tom holland spiderman #marvel #marvel fic #peter parker fic

[martineisling]

Behind my designs of the dads!

Glenn: my immediate thoughts about Glenn was that he reminded me a lot of Greg Universe (Steven´s dad from Stevens Universe).

I felt like he had the vibe of someone who used to be someone, if that makes sense? However, they revealed their ages to be around 35 and I felt that was a little too early in life for that specific vibe.

Basic character design is like “sharp angular shapes for cool characters” and Freddie is the only one who actively describes his character´s appearance, I feel? Mentioning his long hair, handsomeness and muscles.

Anyway, having limited artistic abilities I basically started drawing Glenn how I usually would one of my oldest oc’s, Herman! The only real differences were colors and the fact that Herman had an eyepiece. BUT OH—WHAT HAPPENDED?? Glenn went and got his eye knocked out and had to wear an eyepatch.

I love that people seem to like how I draw Glenn. But at the same time. IT IS a little bittersweet. Cause now I feel like i´ve wasted a Good Design on fanart, which is such a dumb thought, cause that is not all what’ve happened!! Glenn is a way better character than Herman could ever be. Plus I don´t even draw Herman like that anymore.

 Ron: I feel like most people had a hard time figuring out what they wanted Ron to look like, cause he´s just a weirdly unique character. My immediate thought was to draw him as a stereotypical truck driver, cause of various reasons such as the “racist” comment and just the dry humor and general grumpiness. HOwever!! Everything changed when I started comparing the dads with the Try Guys, and Zac would make a perfect Ron. Cute. I guess. I´ve also always loved the idea of Ron having cat eyes? Like they´re slits most of the times, but get completely round when he´s being cute. I don´t think I´ve really managed to capture that in any drawing yet tho. And once upon a time I drew Ron with big brown fluff of hair, which annoyed me cause it looked way to much like how I did Henry´s hair (again limited artistic abilities). So, it was great when Beth was like “he´s bald”.

 Darryl: I feel like the general vibe hasn´t really changed with him and how I draw him. Back to the same character design theory, he´s a square- not much to say. I like him being ginger cause, I mean, when I blush I go insanely red and I just think that´s a feature a big awkward dude like Darryl should have.  

 Henry: In my mind Henry could literally be anything, but not in the same way as Ron. The first couple od sketches I did of Henry I tried to make him look like a real preppy guy with an indian background. But I also really loved the idea of him having been like a popular jock in high school, to be a stereotypical frat guy in college and now like a Steve Rogers wannabe father of two malicious children. Again with the Try Guys, Ned fit really well into this, except he wasn’t buff, so I guess that´s what happened to that idea. I think another Big Inspiration for Henry was my high school boyfriend.

Also. I don´t care what Will is trying to do here. I respect his decision of having a smelly nasty druid, but I will not partake. Will Campos´ voice is genuinely one of the hottest things i´ve ever heard and I will draw him accordingly.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Lazy Mornings - 1

Lazy Mornings:  A Captain America Fanfic

Lazy Mornings Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  2361

Warnings: Mentions of injuries.  (smut on series)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers has trouble taking time for himself.  When his friends set him up with a person with a very unusual skill, perhaps he can learn that the quiet moments are just as important as everything else.

A/N: Reader is a minor god.  Idea expanding on the one in my fic Lazy Sundays though it’s a completely different story (just same minor god x steve).

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THIS LET ME KNOW.

Chapter 1

Steve was on edge.  The Avengers had just come to the end of a very long, and very grueling mission.  With the lack of sleep, niggling injuries, and stress of battle, that would have been enough to have him anxious and exhausted just by itself, but Tony had insisted that they have a party to unwind while Steve still had government agencies to liaise with, paperwork to fill out, and people to question.  So instead of getting his work done so that he could sleep off his injuries and actually unwind, he had to be ‘on’ as the public figurehead of Captain America for a bunch of strangers while he was still running on less than four hours of sleep and had a cracked rib.

As he made his way through the large, open room, Steve became aware of a strange phenomenon.  The people around the door were in full party mood.  People were dancing, talking animatedly, and playing games of darts.  But as Steve moved through the room, the mood got more relaxed.  There was less dancing and more just talking and sharing drinks.  The level of the music dropped so it was more muted and even though the song never changed it somehow felt like it went from an upbeat dance number to a soothing ballad.  The light changed in the room too.  Closer to the elevator bright-colored disco lights cutting through the dark.  Whereas, by the windows, there was a soft diffused gold light, almost like early morning light coming through a gauze curtain.  By the time Steve reached the couches that were set up on a platform against the windows on the far side of the room, everyone was just lazing back on the couches, casually drinking in the soft light.

Thor, Bruce, Wanda, and Clint were all sitting together with you.  Steve didn’t recognize you, but the soft glow in the room seemed to both highlight you and make you seem like you were in soft focus. You had a slightly ruffled look like you’d woken up recently from a very good sleep.  Clint was practically curled up next to you like a cat.

“Steven!”  Thor boomed, making everyone near him jump in surprise.  “Come here, I have someone I wish for you to meet.”

Steve tried to hide the frustration that suddenly bubbled up inside him.  His friends had been trying to set him up with people for months and months now.  He’d been on countless blind dates with people he had nothing in common with, and even more dinners with surprise guests he was forced to be on with.  He hadn’t expected it from Thor and he resented the fact that even after such a grueling few weeks he needed to now play a round of the dating game.

Thor got up and approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder as he gave your names.  He leaned in, bringing his lips to Steve’s ear.  “You may feel the urge to pull away.  Resist it - for me.”

Steve sighed and nodded as you looked up at Thor.  “You’re not staying?”  You asked.

“Not tonight,” Thor answered.  “I wish to celebrate.”

You gave him a small nod.  “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

“I do.  Thank you,” Thor said, letting Steve go and heading back into the party where Tony was talking animatedly with Hill.

Steve took a seat near you.  Clint looked up at him with hooded eyes, like Steve had just disturbed his sleep, but not enough to properly wake him up.  There was an odd feeling of lethargy around the couches.  Not in a bad way exactly.  Just an overly relaxed sleepiness that made Steve wonder if they’d been partaking in marijuana before he’d gotten here.  Along with the sleepy-looking Clint, Wanda had her legs tucked up under her and was staring absently out the window, while Bruce was relaxed back with a goofy looking smile on his face.  It strangely had the effect of making him want to get up and leave in case he’d forgotten to do something.

“So what do you do?”  Steve asked as he resisted the urge to go back down to the office and get his work done.

You smiled and shook your head like you found the question funny.  “I like to paint,” you say.  “And I make a mean breakfast.”

Steve looked at you puzzled.  He’d never come across someone who answered that question with their hobbies rather than their job.  He wondered if you didn’t have one and were embarrassed or if you did something you didn’t think Steve would approve of.  The thought you were a HYDRA agent passed through his head and he looked over at Thor.  “How do you know Thor?”  Steve asked and Wanda started to giggle.

“We run in similar circles,” you say.  “Though I admit, I do not know him well.”

“She’s not HYDRA, Steve,” Wanda giggled.

That knowledge made Steve relax a little and you smiled at him.  “You’re holding a lot of tension, Captain Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve,” he said.  “We’ve been on a mission for weeks now.  It takes a lot of me.  Everyone really.”

You placed your hand gently on his forearm.  He normally didn’t like when strangers invaded his personal space like that.  He’d had a fair amount of sexual harassment since becoming a supersoldier.  However, there was nothing even flirtatious about the moment.  It was genuine and kind and made him relax even more.  “It can be hard to let it go,” you said.  “But you are done, and now you can take the weight off your shoulders.  No need to carry it tonight.”

Steve tilted his head.  “Are you a therapist?”

You chuckled again.  “I guess - of a sort,” you said.

Steve was perplexed by the vague nature of your answers and couldn’t help thinking people were hiding something from him like this was some big trick.  Though he couldn’t see any reason why Thor of all people would be the instigator of such a trick.

“Will you relax, Steve?”  Wanda chided.  “She’s just a girl Thor thought you’d like.”

Steve tried to do as he was told.  He had to admit that it wasn’t easy though.  You definitely had a calming influence.  Despite the loud music and drinking happening in the rest of the room, at the couches, it was like a slumber party.  Bruce looked as relaxed as Steve had ever seen him, his whole body open and still as he talked calmly.  Clint dozed on and off, waking to join in on the conversation and then dropping back off to sleep again, while Wanda was giggly, and about an hour in she said she was going to go to bed and paint her toenails.

Whatever it was that was affecting the others, Steve could feel it too, but in the middle of what was a raging party, Steve was unwilling to completely relax.

“You don’t like it here much, do you?”  You asked.

Steve shrugged.  “I don’t mind a party sometimes, but no… not today.”

“I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve had a home-cooked meal,” you mused.  “Would you like to come back to my place?”

“No,” Clint whined as Steve balked.  “Don’t go.”

“I don’t… that’s probably not a good idea,”  Steve said.

“I meant for dinner, Steve,” you said.  “I promise, no funny business.”

Clint sat up and stretched.  “You should do it, Steve,” he said.  “Live a little.”

Steve looked at Clint and Bruce who were both nodding in approval.  He sighed and gave a small shrug.  “I guess I’m coming then.”

You got up and offered your hand.  “Come on, I won’t bite.”

He let you lead him out of the Tower and down into the street where you flagged down a cab.  “I don’t usually do this,” Steve said, as he sat in the back with you.

“I know,” you said.  “That’s why Thor set us up.”

“You’re not…” he stopped, not sure how to ask the question that was swirling in his mind right now and have it not come out as either offensive or judgmental.  “Are you a sex worker?”

You smiled and shook your head.  “No.  I like my bed though.”

“Why are you being so vague then?”  Steve asked.

“I can tell you if you really want to know,” you said.  “But Thor thought you might fight it more if you knew.”

Steve tensed up and shifted away from you a little.  “Do the others know?”

“Oh, yes,” you said.  “And I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me, but I promise what it is, won’t hurt you.  I’m not evil or malicious.  I am not here because I have to be or I’ve been paid to be.  You truly have just been set up with a woman.  And I am that.  I like you and I just want to take you somewhere you can relax and just enjoy a comforting meal.  That’s all.  If you don’t trust your friend on this, just say.  I’ll tell you.”

Steve looked you over, trying to see the lie or the trick.  All he could see was genuine kindness.  He gave a nod.  “Okay.  Will you tell me eventually?”

“Of course,” you said.  “When we’re both sure of how we feel about each other, I’ll tell you.”

The cab pulled up at a block of apartments on the upper west side.  It was a large pre-war building, the kind that has been romanticized in hundreds of films and costs more than most people could dream of earning to live in.

He followed you in and the two of you rode the elevator up to your floor quietly.  The tall ceilings and recessed walls of the hall brought him right back to his childhood.  You let him into your apartment and for a moment Steve felt like he’d stepped into a storybook.  The light was soft and diffused, filling the room with a hazy golden luminescence.  The furniture all looked inviting and cozy, the deep soft-looking couches all had cozy mink throws on them and a collection of fat plush cushions.  There were a few large bookshelves both filled with a mixture of books and board games.  Your TV was large but not obnoxiously so, and your coffee table was littered with candles, magazines, and books.

“Get comfortable,” you said as you headed into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the living room.

Steve took a moment to look around your apartment.  There was something about the room that reminded him of the way he and Bucky decorated.  You had a different taste to either man.  Steve was more into straight lines and dark wood, and Bucky like black and chrome, whereas you seemed to lean more into creams with splashes of color here and there.  However, like with him and Bucky, you had a mix of old and new.  Steve liked to keep things from his past whether they be actual things he had owned or just items that reminded him of his mother or times with Bucky.  The things you owned seemed to go back further than what he owned, but there was a lot that seemed to center around the nineteen-twenties.  Though they didn’t stop there.  There were items representative of various decades littering your apartment.  From depression-glass bowls to porcelain animals from the sixties to a lava lamp and a small collection of Pez Dispensers.

Steve noticed a copy of the Hobbit that looked remarkably like the copy he got when it came out.  Picking up several books he noticed that many were first editions.

He went and sat down more confused about who you were than he had been before.  You came out with a tray and placed it on the coffee table in front of him.  Each was laden with pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and fresh fruit.

“It’s a little late for breakfast,” Steve said, looking at you with his eyebrow raised.

You shrugged.  “I’m good at a few things, but this is the one that’s quickest,” you explained.  “Otherwise we’d be up for a few more hours while I cooked.”

“Breakfast food it is,” he said and started to eat.  You took your plate and sat back, crossing your legs under you and balancing your plate in your lap.  “You have an interesting collection,” Steve said, gesturing to one of your bookshelves.

“Thank you.  I try not to get too sentimental about what I keep and let go,” you said.  “I know it’s a little eclectic but there are some things I just can’t let go of.”

“How long have you lived here?”  Steve asked.

“A long time. Practically forever,” you answered

Steve wanted to ask you what you did for you to be able to afford living here but knew that would meet the same vague answer - so he let it drop and ate.  The food was good.  Warm and sweet and full of fat.  It wasn’t long until Steve began to feel sleepy and content.  You took the plates back away and when you returned to the living room, Steve was practically asleep on the couch.  You came over and gently touched his arm.

“It would be more comfortable in bed,” you whispered.

“I don’t… I never sleep with women on the first date,” he replied, sheepishly trying to fight the drowsiness pulling him down.

“I have a spare room if you want it,” you said gently.   “Though I just mean sleep.”

Steve stood slowly and followed you down the hall.  You opened the spare bedroom.  “This is my guest room.”

“And your bedroom?”  He asked, part of him wondering if you’d drugged him.

“The end of the hall,” you replied, taking a few steps toward it.  He followed you down and as he stripped down to his undershirt you changed into a soft pair of pajamas.

He climbed into the bed with you and you wrapped him in your arms.  As he drifted off to sleep, he thought how strange it was that he felt as comfortable as he did right now.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #lazy mornings

[moonstruckbucky]

The Recruit (8/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings for Chapter: Angst, pouty Steve. More soft Bucky. That’s it, that’s the warning. 

Notes: Thank you all for the feedback of the previous chapter and for your patience while real life took over for a bit. Someone mentioned that they felt like Bucky/their relationship wasn’t featured enough, so I hope this chapter fulfills that for you! x

Also, a giant thank you to @marauderskeeper​ for this beautiful artwork!!! I’m so fucking in love with this! How perfect is this artwork, y’all?!

Steve finds patterns in the ceiling, shapes. It’s near-silent in the room save the sound of peepers through the open window, the soft breathing beside him. The weight against his chest shifts, sighs, rolls over, and he swallows thickly. Traces the lines of her body even though they’re all wrong, catches the scent of her hair - the wrong color.

He isn’t a stranger to the modern concepts of love and relationships, but it’s an indulgence he doesn’t frequently partake in. The women he meets are great, just none seem to strike that chord in him. None that seem to challenge him or intrigue quite like you.

The woman leaves with a friendly smile, an easy exit with no lingering questions of another night together or anything. He remains in bed for a little while longer, hands tucked up behind his head as he connects constellations in the ceiling. Training begins in thirty minutes, and he inhales deeply to quell the raging in his belly. He’s nervous; it’s the first he’ll see you after his apology.

He’d heard about your successful mission and he’s proud, almost excited for you, even though he knows he has no right. His treatment of you only serves to prove he’s failed as Captain; he’s meant to lead and guide and encourage. Instead, he judged and ridiculed and humiliated, drove you to the point of persevering to prove him wrong.

And you did. He’s embarrassed, ashamed - but proud all the same.

He dresses slowly in the SHIELD-issued black tac pants and navy t-shirt, the SHIELD logo emblazoned on the breast. Someone like Nat or Bucky or even Sam might accuse him of stalling as he carefully and meticulously laces his sneakers, but to anyone else he’d appear sluggish. To anyone else, he’d say he’s tired, that he’d had a late night, but if it were any of the aforementioned three, he’d pointedly keep his mouth shut.

He’s nervous - he’s man enough to admit it. He’s unsure of what to expect, unsure if he’d imagined his apology and your reluctance to believe him. He hates not being sure, not being confident, hates being thrown off his axis, out of balance. Structure, routine, and control is weaved into his DNA, and by apologizing, he’s given up that control, given a piece of him away for someone to do with as she pleases.

He hates it, loathes the way it makes his movements slower, stiffer, like he slept on a bad mattress all night instead of his cushy pillow-top next to a warm body. A warm body he really had no business bringing back here last night, but he brushes that thought away.

He takes a little longer than usual brushing and inspecting his teeth, snarling into the mirror and using floss of all things until he looks at the time and knows he can’t put this off any longer. Schooling his features into impassive steel, Steve sweeps from his room. The ride in the elevator down to the training room is spent building up a wall in his mind, a wall away from her - from you.

You’re already there when he enters, along with Bucky and a few other recruits. You’re smiling, teasing Bucky, and it puts lead in his chest. Absolutely scorches when you notice him and your smile promptly drops. He feels his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows heavily, and the burn in his chest lessons only a little when you offer him a respectful nod.

He returns it, catches Bucky’s eye and his friend gives him a reassuring smile. Steve’s not sure it helps. Mentally shaking it off, he begins the session, starts them off with running laps while he and Bucky spectate.

Steve can’t help but watch you; you’ve got near-perfect running form and you seem unbothered by your knee. You keep pace with everyone, even set it once or twice, and his scrutiny of you means he catches every little side-glance you give his best friend. The little curl at the corners of your lips, a darting glance away.

He catches the same expression on Bucky’s face - and he knows. How could he not know? The way he’d intervened when Steve was being unreasonably harsh, the easy, gentle teasing between you just now, the ever-present smile on Bucky’s face whenever he looks at his phone, the secret glances now as you increase the pace and pull ahead.

As Steve moves the group on to sparring sessions, the looks between you and Bucky become less sneaking and more appraising, and Steve has to dig hard beneath to find any joy that his friend has found his own happiness. Steve knows Bucky deserves it, after all he’s been through and yet.

The obvious connection between the two of you makes his chest hurt and jaw clench so tight it aches. When Bucky calls on you to demonstrate with him, Steve has to hide his curled fists in the pockets of his sweats.

His mind is muddled; he has no reason to be this angry - jealous, surely - but angry? No. Aggravated enough he wants to knock Bucky’s teeth out, sick enough at the sight of the two of you, moving in such synchrony, that he almost looks for the closest trash barrel.

Instead, he pushes the recruits hard, calls out tips to avoid making his previous mistake again, and offers assistance where it’s needed. An adjusted position here, a tip about roundhouse kicks there. He can almost ignore you and Bucky grunting and shouting only feet away.

You, meanwhile, are almost hyper-aware of Steve and the one-eighty he’s seemed to have made. He’s keeping his distance, though you don’t miss the pinched expression to his face or the underhanded glances he shoots you. Probably anticipating a snarky reply or otherwise prove you aren’t trying to remain civil.

He’s made his way over as Bucky pulls you into a headlock, the position warming something deep within you. His arm is loose enough around your neck that he isn’t cutting off any air, but his pelvis is flush with your backside and you even think he’s grinding it - imperceptibly enough that it goes unnoticed by the others. He’s fresh, you’re learning, pushing boundaries wherever he can.

Normally, you’d play along, dig and push a little back, but not with Steve watching the way he is. Arms crossed, feet hip-width apart in his typical Captain stance, but he’s far less rigid than he was. You execute S.I.N.G. (solar plexus, instep, nose, groin) with anxious butterflies, but you manage to successfully complete the move, spin, and move to jab Bucky again. 

Steve’s voice is even gentle when he tells you, “Move your feet. Don’t lock up or remain stationary.”

It’s such a far cry from his previous gruff behavior that it throws you, knocks you slightly off-kilter so that you stumble into Bucky’s chest. With heat in your cheeks, you push away from him, try to resume as if you didn’t fumble at all. You’re meant to be the picture of indifference and yet Steve’s one-eighty has you completely floored.

Should you be, though? He did promise you he’d be better, and so far he’s kept that promise. Perhaps a part of you hadn’t believed him, hadn’t had any reason to believe him - about anything. The fact that he’s trying stirs something in you, and it leaves you open to wind up face-down on the mat.

“Shit,” you grunt as the wind rushes from your lungs.

“That’s what happens when you get distracted,” Bucky teases before reaching with his metal hand to help you to your feet. “Your enemy won’t hesitate to exploit that opening if you give it to them.”

“Yeah,” you agree on a sigh, “yeah. Let’s do it again.”

The warmth in your cheeks doesn’t cool as you run through your spar again. This time, you manage to block out Steve’s close scrutiny and get Bucky on his back, a knee pressed into his chest. You know he can toss you off without a hitch but he lays there, lets you have the win.

“Better,” Steve compliments with an approving nod. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, so you stare at his chest - which, to your shocking admission, isn’t all that much better. The intrusive thought forces you to duck your head, busy yourself with your water bottle as Bucky and Steve begin a rundown of the next exercise.

If either notice you take a little longer to collect yourself, they don’t say anything. After a few more moments of distracting yourself with your water bottle, you return to the group as the Captain and Bucky begin a mock-mission to sharpen your skills.

By the time you’re released from training, you’re covered in a layer of sweat that shimmers under the overhead lights, your mind is tapped, and your entire body feels like it went a round or five against Mike Tyson - super soldiers in your case, but they’d pulled their punches. The muscles in your back pull taut as you stretch, a tightness that makes you wince, expel a tiny whimper.

A gasp as a set of hands lands on your back - one warm, the other just slightly cooler - and the thumbs dig in, find the tightest muscles and press.

“Fuck,” you hiss, arching against Bucky’s skilled hands. A pained smile over your shoulder and, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He grins and leans forward to drop a kiss to your temple. “You did good today.”

“Feels like I went ten rounds with an MMA fighter, but thank you.” Another hmph as Bucky digs his knuckles into your lower back, and a sigh as the tightened muscles release. You slouch against him, disregarding the slight dampness to his compression t-shirt, and turn your face into his neck.

“Feel better?” he asks, throat vibrating against your forehead. Wordlessly, you nod.

“Until tomorrow when it really sets in. You’ll have to carry me everywhere,” you retort cheekily, tilting your face to meet his glimmering eyes.

“Oh, will I?” A teasing upturn of his lips and your eyes dart to them, hold there for a moment as your heart trips over itself in your chest.

“Uh huh.” A pause, then you shrug. “Or you can just stay in bed with me.”

The darkening of his eyes is offset sharply by the awkward look that suddenly shadows his face, cheeks going rouge as he quickly averts his eyes. It’s an odd reaction, and you tilt your head, mouth popping open before he overrides you.

“Whatever you want, doll,” he assures with a smile, all traces of bashfulness gone.

It’s a bit disconcerting how quickly his charming, easy-going demeanor is back in place, but you chalk it up to his former status as an assassin. Give nothing away, a mask he can flip off and on. He further pulls your mind away by lifting your hand to his lips and dotting small kisses across your knuckles.

“C’mon. Should take an ice bath for those muscles.” And he tugs you down the hallway.

“Mother of fucking SHIT.”

Bucky chortles, applies pressure to your shoulders to keep you from popping out of the bathtub he’s filled with ice and water. There’s a burn in your limbs from the cold, and your nails scrape at the ceramic of the tub, squeaking in the small space. Breath rushing in and out as you try to relax, loosen your sore, tightened muscles to let the coldness do its job.

But it’s hard, your mind whines, and your verbalize said whine pathetically.

“It’s so cold.” It’s a whisper, because speaking any louder is downright impossible as your brain works overtime to warm your body.

“I was frozen in ice off and on for seventy years,” he reminds you teasingly, “you can handle it.”

You hiss a laugh, and it makes his mouth twitch. He recalls the first time he ever made a joke about his history with HYDRA. Steve nearly shit a brick before chiding him about how he shouldn’t joke about such things.

“Steve, it happened to me,” he’d reminded, “I should be able to joke about it all I want. Better than going into total shutdown every time HYDRA is mentioned.”

Steve hadn’t said anything after that, but each time Bucky made a jab at HYDRA, he didn’t miss the disapproving gleam in his friend’s eye.

He feels relief that you laugh, feels, well, normal, and like he’s made progress if he feels he can confidently joke about his trauma. He knows he’s made progress, but there are still instances where he feels the others aren’t so sure.

With you, though, he doesn’t have to second-guess it. You don’t treat him like glass, like he’s going to shatter at the first sign of distress. It’s refreshing from the overbearing manner with which Steve treats him on most occasions. He’s thankful you hadn’t known the Bucky from before, the one Steve grew up with, the ghost of a time that’ll never come again. You’ve nothing to compare him to, nothing to miss like Steve does. It’s as refreshing as ice cream on a hot day...or an ice bath following a rigorous workout.

“C-Can I g-ge-get out yet?” Your teeth are chattering, arms crossed tightly over your chest and rubbing at your arms, riddled with gooseflesh. Your lips are even turning slightly blue as they wobble with the cold. 

“Can you feel your muscles?” he asks, reaching for the towel he’d placed on the toilet seat.

“I ca-can’t f-f-feel my lips, never m-mind my mus-muscles.” The snark is lost amongst the clicking of your teeth, but it gleams heavy in your eyes. Smirking, Bucky holds out the towel and helps you stand on shaky legs, like Bambi on ice.

Leggings and sports bra plastered like a second skin, they in no way help to warm you even out of the ice, and after you’re wrapped in the towel, Bucky gives you your privacy to strip down and get changed. Movements unsteady, your wet clothes are plopped into a pile on the tile floor and new, warm, dry clothes are hastily thrown on. Despite the rigorous workout this morning, you feel freshly invigorated, like maybe you could run a mile - once feeling comes back to your legs, that is.

Burrowed in the new clothes, you step out of the bathroom to see Bucky reclined on your bed, looking quite at home. It puts a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest as you approach, and it only grows when he opens his arms for you to burrow into the heat of him. His arms wind around you, the metal one a comforting weight against your back.

It’s silent for a little while, a peaceful blanket pulled over the two of you in the small space of your room. Bucky’s chest rises and falls gently beneath your cheek, slow breaths, and you almost think he’s asleep until he speaks.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

You ponder for a couple beats. “What’s your favorite part of the 21st century? I mean, you were frozen off and on for so long, you didn’t really get a chance to enjoy anything right?”

He hears the trepidation in your voice, the slight intonation that you might actually be crossing a line by asking. He smiles, chuckles a little so you know you haven’t offended him.

“Is it predictable to say the food?” At your head shake, he goes on, “I mean, in the 30s and 40s, we barely had nothin’. Sometimes we’d all go to bed hungry with no dinner, and sometimes I gave my sisters my portion of food. I was the oldest, you know? Had to take care of my family. But now...now there’s just, so much. And so many different kinds! You know, when I first came to the compound, after Shuri fixed my noggin, I didn’t eat a lot. Ate only what I thought I was allowed to eat. One small serving.  Was still going to bed hungry even when all this food was at my disposal.

Then Steve came to talk to me. Told me he was the same way, when he first came out of the ice. Said he had to take it slow because even though he was bigger, his body wasn’t used to eating so much. Neither was mine, even though I was healthier when I... before. HYDRA didn’t feed me, not really. No hot, home-cooked meal for the Fist. It was MREs, or a feeding tube - if I was awake long enough at the base. My system got used to it, and then when HYDRA fell, it was always...Ramen or canned meat, some fruit, if I could afford it. Nothing real substantial. Even in Wakanda, I was still only eating small portions. My first three-course meal here, I puked it all up. I was so astounded by the fact that I could eat as much as I wanted to, but my body wasn’t ready for it. It was used to rationing itself on small meals, used to fasting sometimes, too. But it got better. I ate a little more at each meal, got my body used to eating three times a day. Started working out more, too, to up my hunger. Eventually I could put away three servings at each meal and still have room for dessert. I’ve got a wicked sweet tooth.”

The last line is so unexpected, it makes you snort, choke on the breath, before you can laugh for real. It’s short, though, when you take in the entirety of his story and realize there’s so much you still have to learn about one James Barnes, so much of himself to reveal, so many layers to peel back so you can see who he truly is. A little skip in your heartbeat betrays your excitement to find out, if he’ll let you.

"I’ve got a list,” he then says, “of things people have recommended I try. Maybe you can help me cross some of them off, huh?”

“Bucky Barnes, are you officially asking me on a date?” you tease, leaning your head back to aim a cheeky smirk his way. 

His chest rumbles against with that warm chuckle that warms you to your bones. “Suppose I am. You gonna leave a guy hangin’?”

“Hm, I suppose then I could assist you with this foodie bucket list. We’ll make a cultured man out of you yet.”

#the recruit #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #steve x you #steve x you x bucky #bucky x you x steve #bucky x reader x steve #steve x reader x bucky

[kaypeace21]

I believe that byler is an endgame

but why would they spend 3 seasons winding up with mileven?

People REALLY need to pay attention to the shows the Duffers cited as huge inspirations to them. Cheers,dawsons creek, freak &geeks did exactly what the Duffers are doing (and the Duffers said these shows inspired them)

. Cheers for over 5 seasons built up the pairing of sam and Dianne- had them break up in the s5 finale and then in the last 2 eps of the 11th season have them get back together and once again break up explaining for the 100th time they were wrong for each other and brought out the worst in eachother . Cheers would build up multiple pairings (Frasier /Lilith (s4-11/broke up in s11) , sam/Dianne (s 1-11, broke up in s11 permanently) , rebecca /sam (s8-10) Rebecca/robin (s8-9) -these pairings lasted for multiple seasons and they all broke up! They built pairings up for multiple seasons but showed throughout the show why those pairing in cheers could never work out in the long term. The same Thing happened with almost every pairing in Dawson’s creek (they’d build up multiple pairings up -sometimes for multiple seasons- sprinkle in good but also dysfunctional aspects of those relationships- and then break them apart for good ).

Also in Dawson’s creek 2 characters (a rich girl and poor guy with daddy issues) date and breakup- but both of their gay brothers get together and are endgame instead of them (cough jancy vs byler). One of the gay guys (the rich one with the book smart sis) even dated the main girl (Joey) for a while before admitting he was gay and that he was in denial (while dating the main girl for more than a season ). In D.C even the main guy(Dawson) / girl (Joey) don’t end up being endgame (despite teasing it for all 5 seasons) . They did this with a lot of couples in the show. Honestly, the Duffers pretty much borrowed this idea of showing pairings with issues and breaking them up -but toned down how long they’d bait them . Like 11seasons of showing dysfunctional couples date -ick. And Dawson’s creek ... my god it had a literal love octogon/ love webs (so many love squares/pentagons/ and on and off relationships). The 1 adult couple broke up and I’m not exaggeration 4 times, and Dawson got back with 2 of his girlfriends like so many times. And ugh I’d say each (of the 4-5) main characters dated at least 4 people -and each of those relationships lasted for like 20+ eps each... and then after all that build up -break up ). That’s not even including the people the main 5 or so characters would date for like 5-6 eps . Thank god it was toned down compared to Dawson’s creek or cheers. i can’t imagine the frustration watching those shows during its airing 😂

Freaks & geeks (set in the 80s)was also inspo.14 y old Sam who is bullied and called “homo” “queer” etc throughout the whole series - he also obsesses over a cheerleader girl for the whole series and in the second to last ep of the series- they finally start dating  and he realizes they have nothing in common and says “it’s boring. all we ever do is makeout.She likes nothing i like. We can’t talk to eachother. We never have fun.” And he admits he only keeps dating her cause everyone would call him “crazy” to not date her. sam and her are also said to be “from different planets” and “different species”  just like mileven in s3 lol.  The gf of  sam also says before they dated she saw him ‘like a sister’ (like El asking mike if he’d be her brother in s1, before they date). And after this sibling comment various characters -encouraged the couple and said they would be good together (before they dated-like what we’ve seen in st with mileven and other ships ).Sam eventually decides to not cave to peer pressure- and breaks up with her. Meanwhile sam’s sis (is a straight A student, who is initially into a popular guy and starts hanging with the cool kids).  After getting over the first (popular) guy, she later dates another guy- a music-obsessed-stoner-guy  with a cruddy dad...and she breaks up with him (like jancy?). That couple was even called ‘romeo & juliet’ before they broke up-similar to mileven being called “romeo & juliet’ before their breakup. plus r&j were never in love... just like mileven.

All 3 shows had the main guy/girl date but not end up with eachother in the end . And both shows -would build up several pairings that looked like endgame but would show faults in those relationships and would have them breakup (because those pairings were never that healthy together). Which I believe is what they’re doing with jancy, jopper, mileven and lumax (explained in my analysis here all the evidence for why I don’t think they don’t end up together). I mean there’s many reasons I listed in the analysis but you think it’s a coincidence - jancy, lumax, mileven , and Steve/rando girl who rejected him in s3-all incorportated spying on their love interest ? you think the duffers think that’s good to have all these romantic pairings spy on eachother? When in the show they canonically have the us gov (villains) spy via phone taps, and hidden recorders, and cameras? Brenner used El as a spy for his own gain ? they even call the mf a ‘spy’ (which the characters perceive as the  main villain)... i don’t think the mf is  actually villainous but that’s off topic).The point is narratively equating spying as something ‘wrong’ by characters our main cast of heroes is against. But having that same cast of heroes partaking in spying themselves … specifically on to their romantic partners- and not also showing it as a negative. But romanticizing it? Would be quite hypocritical. And a HUGE narrative oversight.

Also build up?

S1- mileven kiss right after el asks if he’ll be her “friend” or “brother”. Has others compare el to mike’s sibling /cousin. Hint Will is gay . Have hints mike is queer too/ and cares deeply about Will. Constantly mention how el physically resembles Will/a boy. Parallel mileven to ted/Karen who were “never in love”. Have Nancy and mike verbally compare the jancy/stancy love triangle to mileven/byler . And at the end of the season mike writes a story for Will that likens the 2 to han/leia. Flo says about jancy/Jon “ only love makes you that crazy and that damn stupid”. (Which flo wasn’t entirely right about since jon punched Steve for insulting his family- for Jon it was familial love -not romantic love. But put a pin in that phrase)

S2- was pretty much byler season (and mileven barely interact that season). Byler say they’d go “crazy together”. But el’s new catchphrase is she’s “not stupid.” They Compare mileven to luke/leia (siblings that kissed) . Ref ghostbusters and parallel byler to the romantic pairing of Dana /venkman (but have el just be a ghost and mike a ghost buster which isn’t romantic but the opposite) .parallel mileven to hopper/el. Have el spy on mike, el hurt a stranger cause of unhealthy jealousy, have mileven dance to a song about a possessive spying/Stalking ex gf . Throw in mileven burns like “they’re not in love they’re not even from the same planet.” (El being et ref) . Have mike say annoyed “a bond ?! (Scoff) cause you shared nougat?! “ (egos like s1 ) “. Mike saying after knowing max for a week “hate you? I don’t even know you?” (He knew el for a week too so no way he loves her -cause he doesn’t know el , just like max ) . mike even criticizes his friends’ instant attraction to max saying “you haven’t even spoken a word to her.”Dustin saying “ I don’t have to . I mean -look at her.” Which makes it even more suspicious that mike was into a girl who multiple characters said looked like a boy (specifically Will) in s1. Have El watch a soap opera (all my children) and mimic the scene of  erica kane and her love interest michael. Which in the soap opera-isn’t endgame, and ended with some stalking after their breakup.

S3- mileven is finally dating : multiple characters (lucas, Will, Hopper, dustin,Max, etc) in the show dislike and verbally complain about them together . In cheers all of sam’s friends hated him dating Dianne and would vocally complain about it (similar to joyce they even clapped/cheered after 1 of their many breakups) . Mike is horrified by the spying(that mileven fans romanticized in s2) , el is happier single and neither is heartbroken over the breakup. They date for 2 eps and then breakup . Mileven being together inhibits El’s character arc from s2 (aka she went from wanting to explore the world and leave the cabin in s2 to see her friends, to ignoring her friends and cutting herself off from the world in order to stay in the cabin all day to make out with mike for 6 months - she would literally lie to her friends about curfew to return to the cabin and kiss mike -going against her ‘friends don’t lie’ mantra from the past 2 seasons too ). Mike canonically doesn’t trust her / doesn’t believe in her ability to make decisions and lies to her and never apologizes for lying. And el doesn’t apologize for spying . They throw in more gay hints of mike & Will. Mileven is called “bullshit” like s2 stancy . And Both pairings in the show kissed a bunch and said “I love you” (but they weren’t endgame). They also contrast s3 mileven scenes to s2 byler scenes and have byler win out. And once again parallel mileven to hopper/el and Karen/ted. As well as paralleling and likening Mileven to stancy in numerous other ways (besides the “bullshit “ line) . They also parallel mileven to stobin (both are straight baits) .They parallel the stobin confession to the mileven one -both confessions have them sitting on the floor, both girls have bandages on their legs, and both confessions are interrupted by dustin. Also both Steve/mike use the terms “crazy & stupid ” to confess to robin/el. But unlike Will who agrees to be “crazy “ with mike .El confused , asks “ what makes you crazy?” And robin says she didn’t have a crush on his “stupid hair”. el even says in reference to mike “there’s more to life than stupid boys.” Showing how el/robin don’t have romantic feelings for the boys-like the flo phrase of s1. Unlike Will who after fighting with mike calls himself “stupid” over and over and rips up the photo of him and mike where they promised to go “crazy together.” Even Steve says in s2 stancy should should “pretend to be stupid teenagers” in love. Emphasis on “pretend”. And when el says she loves mike “the first I love you” plays -the only other time that song plays in s3 is when robin rejects Steve (cause she’s gay.) cough cause mike is gay too.

There’s a lot more in each season (that illustrates mileven was built up -but not as a positive couple but a problematic one that was never was in love to begin with ). But I’m trying to keep this short . You can read this post here where I go in more depth about all of this .

S1-2 builds up the problematic ships (but showed good and bad aspects of their dynamic) . like the spying of jancy, lumax, and mileven or the jealousy. of Hopper in s2. In the s2 finalie they have them kiss or hug/exchange romantic glances. And in S3 we see the after math of this with all the couples officially dating - and they show all the couples issues at the forefront . I already talked about mileven. But, Lumax broke up 6 times (they dated for 6 months- and every month they dated max dumped him ). Jancy fight in the opening of ep 1 and don’t understand each others issues (sexism/poverty-and Jon’s issues with his dad) . And neither supports the other in their passions of journalism & photography.Nancy is also called “nancy drew” who in 1986 (year of s4) before going to college dumps her long term highschool bf (who helped her in many of her past mysteries/novels ). Their relationship was also shown as complex and somewhat dysfunctional because of both parties -before nancy drew dumps him. And (even if not dating like the other pairings) jopper almost go on a date in s3. Joyce was trying to hide the fact she was moving, Hopper was horribly jealous, and all they did was yell and argue.Murray says to joyce regarding hopper “he’s a brute... probably reminds you of a bad relationship” (aka lonnie/Joyce) . They even have Joyce watch a cheers ep- which directly compares jopper to (dianne/Frasier) who weren’t endgame in cheers but a rebound .  Hopper /fraiser both drink chianti . Fraiser asks dianne to marry him/Hopper asks Joyce on a date-both women stand them up. Or when Joyce asks Hopper out she calls her self ‘detective byers ‘and Hopper name drops miami vice. Which had an on and off again relationship for several seasons- of the male /female detectives.The relationship faded out as Gina realized they mainly got together when one or both needed someone. Crockett was very protective of Gina, and had some jealousy when Gina was involved in relationships , but was the first one to be there for her when things went wrong. And they realized it was better to not be together romantically. Heck seems like all these couples have negative film/tv parallels... lucas in s2 mentions not liking winston in ghost busters cause he came ‘super late’ (like Max). in s1 disses michael myers (which Max dressed as). And at the end of s3- lumax dress identically to eric/donna from a ep of that 70s shows (in the ep  eric/donna were broken up).

 (s3 was marketed as the “summer of love” and “summer love” is a euphemism for flings that don’t last.) s4-5 Will probably show good healthy ships/break up the problematic ones from past seasons .

So first 2 seasons focus on the unhealthy ships / and the last 2 seasons focus on healthy ships. S3 the middle season would be considered the turning point -and why none of the popular ships (assumed to be endgame) came off looking that great (compared to how they were presented in s1-2) .

#byler #anti mileven #byeler #stranger things

[tonystarktogo]

Could I pretty pretty please get some more on the time travel crack au? Maybe when it gets out that Steve, Bruce, andThor are technically from the future?

As much as I’d love to jump to that part, I think it’s funnier necessary to cover a few other tidbits first. For example:

Tony misses whatever discussion follows Thor’s -- hah, got it right in one, he hasn’t lost his touch completely yet -- arrival before the god carries his brother off towards a containment cell with the sort of cheer that causes Tony to carefully keep at least two people between himself and Thor, lest the asshole tries to hug him again.

Not that it can be that big a loss considering they all -- sans Loki -- end up back in the command center of the helicarrier, where Fury glares balefully at the most recent invader of his precious aircraft that clearly isn’t meant to stand in the way of gods.

A glare Thor aggressively doesn’t notice. Likely because he’s too busy partaking in the on-going discussion on what to do next.

And by ‘what to do next’ Tony doesn’t mean the expected we-were-invaded-by-a-mindcontrolled-alien-nutbag-and-there’s-probably-more-out-there-seems-like-the-kind-of-oh-shit-situation-we-should-plan-for. No. That would be reasonable and expected and Tony’s spent all of three hours in the company of the esteemed Captain America and already he can tell you that Rogers is none of that.

[Which, not cool, Capsicle. Dazzling and befuddling people with crazily brilliant ideas is his job.]

[continues under the cut]

So far, Tony’s been paying attention for ten minutes. In that time, Rogers and Thor have gotten into an argument over how to handle Loki -- which holy shit, that went from a calm, rational discussion to a battle to the death between two superhumans on a sugar high in zero point four seconds -- that Tony is so not gonna touch. [Nope. Let some other fool [i.e. Rogers] throw himself head-first into norse god family drama, Tony’s own feelings concerning his family are complicated enough.] That conversation devolved into a not-openly-fighting-while-totally-fighting stand-off between Rogers and Banner over a way too bitter comment from the latter [something about ‘you’d know all about choosing one brother over the other, wouldn’t you’ which what?], which in turn gets derailed by Banner needling Thor about the merits of beheading over stabbing.

Romanoff had the good sense to disappear -- probably to interrogate Loki while his apparently protective big brother is distracted, now that Tony thinks about it. 

Unfortunately that still leaves Tony stuck here, having to play the role of the mature adult because no one else fucking will. Tony hates being responsible. It’s like being back in high school and being left to do all the work on your own in group project.

[Tony failed that project. Got a straight up zero on purpose because spite is a wonderful motivator. Which, now that Tony thinks about it, doesn’t say anything promising about the current situation.]

Tony leans even further back in his seat, only balancing on the backlegs of the chair, to give Fury a very sharp, very judgemental look.

These are the people you’re betting Earth’s survival on, that look says.

Fury’s already pissed off expression darkens further, which brightens Tony mood substantially. That one of the suit’s sensors flashes green twice in quick succession less than a minute later really just makes for a delicious cherry on the top. Or more precisely a good excuse to ditch this trainwreck of a match-making attempt.

“Whoops,” Tony says, clearly audible but not too loud to draw real attention from the three [still arguing-while-pretending-not-to] stooges on the other end of the room. “Looks like I gotta take this call.”

He jiggles his fingers at Fury. The guy rolls his eyes -- probably jealous that he doesn’t have an excuse himself, that bitch face doesn’t fool Tony -- but no one tries to stop him.

“Alright, J, what do you have for me?”

*

Tony pretends not to notice the shuffling footsteps. Glances at the disturbingly normal clock on the wall that is so not up-to-date with the rest of the technology in the room, it must be an inside joke. Tony would love to meet the SHIELD agent behind it -- it can’t be easy, being the only person with a sense of humor in an entire agency.

30 minutes.

Well. That’s longer than Tony thought he’d get. JARVIS still hasn’t cracked the last layer on SHIELD’s really fucked up dirt -- and given what he’s already found, that says a lot -- but it’s only a matter of time now. Besides, Tony’s got a job to do.

“To- Stark.”

“Rogers.”

Tony doesn’t turn. Neither does he stop typing.

“What are you doing?”

Tony scoffs. He’s not in the mood to pander to inferior minds -- not when they’re so fucking frustrating, don’t make any sense and worst of all make him do all the work. 

“He’s tracking the Tesseract, using the scepter as a point of reference,” Banner says after taking one look at the screen over Tony’s shoulder.

Tony raises his eyebrows, impressed despite himself. Banner’s credentials clearly don’t do him justice -- and they were pretty damn good to begin with.

“Huh,” says Rogers.

Thanks for playing. Now buckle down and make yourself useful or fuck off, Tony wants to snipe but doesn’t get the chance to because the gods -- this god at least -- just aren’t on his side.

“Even without my brother’s help, a weapon of the tesseract’s might should not be underestimated,” Thor speaks up. “Should we not make haste and collect it?”

"Great idea.” Tony’s voice is dryer than the sand dune he crash-landed in back during his fun little trip to Afghanistan. “If only I’d thought of that instead of inventing fifteen new algorithms to try and get a read on SHIELD’s precious magic eight ball while you were busy defending your brother’s honor. Speaking of, I’m pretty sure Romanoff is a greater danger to his virtue than Captain Shockfreeze over there, so why are you still here?”

Okay, maybe poking the hornet nest that is godly family isn’t his smartest move [didn’t he just say he wasn’t gonna touch that?!] but damn if Tony isn’t curious. And also too annoyed to care about unimportant, subjective things like good manners and tact.

He sort of regrets his cavalier attitute a little when Thor sobers. At least there are no tears in sight. Tony is the last person on Earth who should be left unsupervised around crying people. It just never ends well.

“Ah.” Thor sighs heavily, stems his body against an unfortunate table that creaks dangerously. "I’m afraid I can’t afford to see my brother right now.”

It’s the way he says those words, the weight they carry more than anything that tells Tony he needs to drop this issue right now. Talk about one huge trigger button.

Must be inconvenient to have siblings. Tony totally can’t relate.

“Well, in that case, unless you have a magic trick with which you can pull the Tesseract’s position out of your sleeve, how about you sit as far away from these delicate instruments as possible and don’t touch anything while I work my magic, hm?”

Tony doesn’t let his gaze linger on the crushed edge of the table. Thor hasn’t even seemed to notice. He’s too busy lighting up at Tony’s snappish response. Which is surprising. Tony’s aware he’s a bit of an asshole right now. In his defence, he’s an asshole most of the time.

Rogers leaps across the room -- almost crashing into the previously mentioned delicate sensors as he does so -- to slap his palm over Thor’s mouth.

Tony stares. [How quickly can you develop a new habit again? Because this starts to feel like a new habit.]

“That sounds like a great plan!” Rogers beams at him, so wide and fake it must be physically painful for the epitome of all that is good and holy. At least Tony hopes it is. The supersoldier his father worshipped is still clinging to their resident god of thunder’s face.

It’s.

Tony resolutely turns his back on both of them because their madness doesn’t seem to come with a refund-ticket and if Tony doesn’t finish this program, no one will.

Not even Banner -- whom Tony had been kind of hoping for. Speaking of, the man’s been awfully quiet for a while now.

“You alright there, Brucie-Bear?” Tony turns around -- a little because it’s polite to face people when you talk with them and mostly to have an excuse not to watch the ongoing doomed wrestle-match between Blonde 1 and Blonde 2. His awesome nicknaming skill doesn’t get so much as a twitch.

To be fair, Banner is so busy staring straight ahead with the most epic rendition of the World’s Most Thoughtful Expression™ Tony has seen in a while that it doesn’t seem like the man heard him. At all.

Until he suddenly speaks up.

“I think we’ve forgotten something.” Behind Tony the impromptu wrestling comes to a sudden halt.

Probably something negligible like how to focus on a mission, the sarcastic voice in the back of Tony’s mind drawls. Though it should be noted that Tony’s consciousness only comes in sarcastic or not at all. Sorry, everyone, all the other flavors are out.

Banner’s frown deepens. “Something- Something important.”

Right on cue an explosion rocks the aircraft.

*

There’s a bit more tension in this part than the previous ones. On Tony’s side it’s because he’s smart enough to pick up on Something Is Seriously Wrong, both consciously and subconsciously and also because he feels the pressure what with everyone else apparently not taking this whole thing very seriously.

[Excluding Natasha who, believe me, takes Clint’s fate very serious indeed.]

On our time travellers’ side, they experience the frustration of being unable to talk openly, surrounded by people they don’t trust, trying to play along to the script of a movie they watched like 12 years ago and never revisited. Needless to say they’re failing horrenduously.

#ReRe answers #archangel-of-peace #if you know the future why are you such an idiot 'verse #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #Bruce Banner #Thor Odinson #Loki #Thor's and Loki's complicated relationship #Tony is done with this shit #Steve continuous to fail at being subtle #Thor continuous to out-do him #fic #shit this got long #me: i'm gonna write a three line text post on a hilarious time travel au #also me: *what feels like 2k later but is hopefully an exaggeration* fuck #ReRe writes #time travel shenanigans #lovely people

[themilky-way]

in the night

gif credit: pedropcl

pairing: javier peña x fem! reader

summary: when you’re asked to partake in a dangerous task, you form a sudden and unexpected bond.

warnings: mentions of the mob and alcohol, a very vague implication of a gun

author’s note: this man lives in my mind rent free good-fuckin-night  

----------

life in columbia sure as hell wasn’t easy, but being a dea agent working against the downfall of the world’s most powerful criminal took the proverbial cake. your mission had seemed fairly easy: travel to bogotá and help the columbian authorities catch escobar. except, the ambassador didn’t mention any sort of infiltration, one that had to be done by none other than you. 

there was no fighting it. the job carried many (dangerous) responsibilities, and someone had to fulfill them. to help, steve had reached out to carillo and asked him to substitute one of his own men, which, in a way, wasn’t any better because someone’s life was still at risk, but it was denied. connie made the wait for you as easy as she could by sending you dinner with peña a few nights a week, and although you loved that woman like your own blood, she couldn’t make a bowl of rice even if her life depended on it. 

by being a helpful friend though, connie had unintentionally brought her husband’s partner closer with you. you knew of him and how he worked, an unavoidable aspect if you operated where he did, but your role slightly differed from his. the week you had been assigned for undercover was spent in the privacy of your apartment, ensuring important documents were locked up, sorting a couple of suitcases as if this was a leisurely trip instead of a guaranteed death sentence. the following week wasn’t any less hectic, but it was the first time connie sent out a personal order to you. her chosen delivery man? yeah, you guessed it.

it became a regular occurrence after that. the days leading up to your departure began consisting of javier residing in your home for hours at a time. there were moments where he showed up at your door without a small bag of food, claiming steve was in charge of dinner that night and how he’d never forgive himself if he let you take a bite of it. you noticed how on some nights, he’d linger for just a few more minutes than he should’ve by washing spare dishes or going over routes crucial to the cartels. he didn’t need to do any of that, but the difference here was that he wanted to. 

“so,” steve started off one morning, “you and peña- you guys a thing?” he ended it with a small smirk perfectly hidden by the bottom of his coffee mug. indeed, an unprofessional topic for an unprofessional man.

“to my knowledge, he’s just being a friend and a very bad delivery person,” had been your answer at the time, never once looking up from the jumble of words constituting your report. nothing else mattered as much as your security on that mission; you truly didn’t have the time to delve into emotional matters and invest any thought into silly questions like this. “he keeps me company, that’s all.”

perhaps you were lying to yourself about this whole thing, afraid of what might happen if you allowed emotion to regulate the demanding life you led. a vase of lively flowers would replace the holster on your coffee table. scattered papers and pens and pictures would find a home in neat sections of a drawer rather than the floor. a few photographs might even color the opaque walls. these were trivial aspects of your life, and the aspirations to contrive them hardly appeared in your mind, but now? well, now they were everywhere. 

during the third week, javier didn’t even need steve’s wife to deliver anything. excuses to knock on the hard wooden door of the complex were compiled up in his brain, and they were eloquently spilled in order to pass its threshold. “you see these papers? yeah, we need to go over them,” he’d say all rushed and hurried, holding up a stack of articles with sloppy handwriting. the thoughts-hopes-from before would start then, and they’d take up every ounce of your reasoning as if nothing else mattered. from that point forward, javier’s attention was yours, and your’s his. watches’ were discarded and left on a random end of a couch, the sounds of the clock drowned out by the now casual chatter instead of a business delegation. nights of the exact nature transcurred one after another, with the agent leaving closer to dawn no matter his imploration to keep you company. “call me if you need anything, alright?”

ultimately, everything had led you to the couch your legs were crossed upon, javier sitting in the space between it and the small, rectangular coffee table. one leg lay calmly folded on the pearl-tinted carpet while the other was bent, an elbow resting sturdily on top of his knee. a blanket covered the bottom half of your sitting form with a few of its edges tickling the man’s arms, but it seemed he didn’t mind the feeling. you’d offered him one, and upon his negation, you’d offered him to share yours, which earned you a cocky remark. tonight, he didn’t bring any documents or transcripts to revise, only what he insisted to be the best take-out meal in town. additionally, being the friend he was, he gifted you a bottle of whiskey that was to be celebrated with, except he was on his third refill, and you weren’t even finished with the first. 

“unless you wanna sleep here tonight, i suggest you slow it down,” a small joke as you leaned over to place the glass down. you assumed he’d laugh as he did with all your past banters, but was met with nothing but the sound of his ice rocking against his cup. naturally, you turned to face him as you reached back, catching a delicate smile below the curve of his stache.

“yeah, i’m sure you’d like that, huh?” he took a sip as coolly as ever. the glass came down next to yours, his newly free hand propping up on your knee closest to him. granted, the close intimacy wasn’t new-none of it was, at this point-but your very own mind was spinning and wasn’t due to the alcohol, or potential food poisoning, or even goddamn nerves wracking your system about the ordeal you’d be facing. “no, seriously. would you like me to stay?”

“i mean i wouldn’t technically mind it if i had company. i’d prefer connie but you’ll do, i guess,�� to this, javi did release a hearty laugh, followed with a expression of feined insult. 

a few hours trascurred beyond that moment before exhaustion creeped up on the both of you. it was arranged that he’d sleep on the sofa while your bed awaited you in the adjacent dorm, and it appeared quite modest. “i’ll, uh, i’ll be right back, hold on,” you assured him, discarding your day clothes for something more comfortable in private. you brushed your teeth next, and then fixed your disheveled hair into a style suited for sleep. 

“oh shit, javi-” you found him sitting at the edge of your bed tucking in a sheet that almost threatened to come off. he’d taken the liberty of adjusting the variety of pillows and blankets how he deemed fit you best. “did you just un-make my own bed?”

he got up to lift one cover to motion you under it, replying with, “yes, ma’am, i sure did.” javier ensured that every single limb was secure under the safety of the sheet, standing up straight to peer down at his work and, regarding it “perfect,” said his good night, but cold fingers unsheathed themselves to encircle around his wrist to prevent him from leaving. “oh, come on, i did such a good job-”

“please stay with me. just for a little while,” you plead. it took him more than few seconds to properly register your words, but eventually he twisted his hand to take a hold of yours and bring it into his lap as he sat back down on the cushion. he didn’t mind-he never would. you spoke to him about random things, conspiracies and books and movies and in turn, he offered his own insight. amidst slurred words, the entanglement of your fingers to his occurred. javi’s thumb drew softly on the edge of your own; throughout the silence that suddenly filled the space, he cautiously lifted the top of your hand, as if to wait for a withdrawal, and when he saw none, he kissed it softly. 

“murphy asked if you and i were a thing,” he mumbled. 

“what’d you tell him?” you asked.

“that we are.” he kissed your hand again before letting it go, rising up to stand over you. with the same gentleness as he’d done to your skin, he inched down to press another to your forehead. “get some rest, i think you’ve seen enough of me for today.”

“i don’t really think that’s possible.”

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal #narcos #javier peña x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing! #javier pena x reader

[iwantutobehapppier]

As It Was

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You and Steve had been hooking up on the sly for months now. Feelings are caught but is everyone adult enough to deal with them? And who caught them?

Warning: 18+ Only, Smut, Angst, sooo much angst. I’m not a nice person in this one. Described panic attack, cursing etc.

Word Count: 3,990

A/N: I’m in a mood and working through it. There will be sex and angst. Expect nothing more. Enjoy! :) Sorry not sorry. @sagechanoafterdark​ is gonna hate me after this but I will make her latkes to make up for it. Oh and def not MCU Canon. Everyone’s alive, I'm making it angsty enough don’t need dead peeps too. For now kekeke. 

You were both truly naive to think you could hide from a group of spies and enhanced like this but your hopefulness coupled with Steve’s never-ending optimism pushed you into delusions. Or maybe it was just the lies you let yourselves live in, that this was only sex and there was no need for anyone else to know.

“How did that date go last night?” You tried to focus on Wanda’s idle chit-chat waiting for the rest of the team to file into the conference room for a debriefing on the newest mission. Steve stood to the side of the room talking with Bucky; you looked his way to find him staring at you. He shouldn’t be so obvious really but it was hard not to stare as you were in his bed just this morning.

“Hello?” Wanda waved her hand in front of your face. You jerked back giving her full attention but not without a bashful glance.

“Good. I mean probably okay?” You sighed, “No it went pretty bad actually.” Wanda’s frown encompassed her whole face; she had been trying so hard to help you with your love life. It wasn’t like you could fault her for meddling, Vision and she worked so well together and she wanted the same for you.

She just couldn’t know that it was hard to have any good date when you were hooking up with Captain America on the sly. They would all pale in comparison but this date had been quite the spectacle of tragedies.

“Never knew someone could talk about themselves for an entire night. Let’s not forget he flirted blatantly with the waitress then, made some innuendo at me blowing him in his car in the middle of dessert.” Giving a reader’s digest version of the story you wouldn’t mention to her the way his hand kept riding up your skirt or how he practically propositioned the kind waitress to partake in a threesome.

You may have also spared the details for listening ears, specifically the pair attached to a blonde centenarian, who would not respond well to learning you had not been entirely forthcoming with details when wrapped up in his bedsheets following the atrocious date.

“He tried to put his hand up your skirt?!” Wanda’s tone was harsh, her powers lighting up her hands in response to her rage.

“You promised!” You frowned at her, you had requested several times she keep her wandering mind to herself around you. Wanda blushed at being caught.

“I knew you were holding back,” She didn’t even vein remorse, “I’m sorry it went so badly but I am not sorry for prying.” She took your hands in hers about to speak but Tony interrupted.

“I know you all have missed me whilst away,” Tony held his hand to his heart “But I am here!” last to enter with this signature flair of dramatics, “Capsicle take it away!” Tony plopped down next to you with a side smirk that you reciprocated with an eye roll.

Facing forward Steve’s eyes landed on you first, the small frown marring his face indicating he had heard Wanda.

“Let’s get started,” Tightness in his voice made you involuntarily flinch, you knew, later on, there’d be a conversation or worse there wouldn’t be one at all.

~~*~~

You limp your way back to the personal quarters following a very long but successful mission. Not without the colossal share of setbacks landing Natasha in the med bay, Bucky stranded at one point without working comm, Tony’s suit damaged beyond macrobiotics ability to repair and you along with Steve ambushed. What did it matter though if the mission was successful?

Happy to finally be back in the sanctuary for your room you started the shower letting it warm up while you slipped out of your gear. Walking back into your bedroom the welcomed silence was interrupted by your sharp inhale through clenched teeth at the pull of the tight suit on bruised and battered muscles.

“Need some help?” You jump turning around at the sight of Steve leaning against your door jam. His arms crossed over his torn and dirty stealth uniform. Did he follow you to your room from the Quinjet? The jerk on your battered body nearly sends you to your knees in pain. You just wanted to be in that hot shower, let your body feel some form of relief.

“Yes, please,” All you can get out, working hard to keep the tears of pain at bay. There was no reason to hold them back except your own pride. Steve shut your door and strode over to you, helping you peel the catsuit down your back, over your hips, his fingers gentle trailing over forming bruises. 

Steve clenches his jaw the more he exposes your injuries, a rather deep cut on your hip, dried blood trailing all the way past your knee. You place your hands on his shoulder when he ushers your legs from the suit. Left in your activewear bra and underwear you felt an unusual level of vulnerability.

You two had been fooling around for months but neither tended to each other in such a way outside of mandatory mission first aid. 

“I’m going to wash this grime off, did you want to join?” You voice barely a whisper staring down at Steve, his head slowly trailing up your body to catch your gaze. With a brief nod he stands up and you step out of your suit, moving to face his chest and helping him remove his suit. 

Soon the two of you are bare, under the harsh bathroom fluorescents and warm large showerhead’s rushing water. You stand there, your back to his front, almost touching. Almost something more than just a mutual need to clean. You close your eyes and tilt-up, letting the rainfall showerhead leave trails of water down your face. The two of you shampooed your respective hair, he opted to use your gardenia scented shampoo, his own shampoo only ever in his bathroom.

Having him so close and naked but not touching left an uneasy ache in your stomach. The sensation that something was wrong, but what could be wrong? You turned your head back to look at him, his eyes were already on you, they were always on you. His gaze felt different than any others and you weren’t sure what it meant. A storm burning behind those beautiful blue eyes. Often, you find yourself getting lost in those pools of blue. Clearing your throat you turned back around, closing your eyes and tilting your head back up to rinse the shampoo from your hair. 

Maybe you imagined it all? Your desire to want more from him projecting your own wishes in his actions.

You are startled from your thoughts when you feel a soaped washcloth gently drag across the back of your neck, along your back and moving to your front. Rough calloused hands with a tender touch washing you clean of all the harshness of the past few days. A relaxed sigh escapes your lips, the coupling of warm water helping your muscles loosen and Steve’s attention pulls you into a cloud of comfort.

An involuntary hiss pulls from your mouth when he washes the deep gash on your hip. Muttered “Sorry” is his response, bending his knees to be low enough behind you to clear away the blood. Your eyes drawn to the crimson water swirling down the drain, but you were pulled to face him, his eyes assessing your front to find any speck of grime he missed. 

Once he was satisfied you took the washcloth from him, ensuring to ring it clean and reapply soap you begin the task of cleansing him.

Petite hands run over the wide expanse of his chest following the washcloth, this feels different, you want to shake it off and pretend that was not true but it was different. Whatever it was between the two of you, it was growing, mutating, maturing into something more.

With both of you free of the missions burdens and dirt his lips crash against yours. The intensity of his kiss is startling, hands trailing up your sides to wrap around your back, pulling you flush to him. His touch was untethered in a way unfamiliar to you. Finally, he pulls his lips from yours, your lugs desperate for air. Wide eyes look at him, and he can only answer with a low lid gaze, licking his lips as he pulls you in once more to drink up all you have to offer. If he asked you’d give him everything and what was left after that.

Your hands grip his shoulders, needing an anchor in the rocking waves of his desire. His hardening cock presses against your stomach, a soft moan spilling into his mouth that he eagerly consumes it. Hands slipping down your waist, one hand gripping your wound free hip he hoists you up against the cool bathroom tiled wall. 

Legs wrapped around his waist, his gorgeous cock sitting pretty between your lips. You rock against him, your slick coating him, he grunts into your mouth, not once pulling away, you take in much need air through your nose. 

There was no need for foreplay, you were always ready for him, something you hoped he did and didn’t notice at the same time. After all the power he had over you, you wanted to keep him ignorant. Oblivious to your thoughts consumed by him, the way your skin craves his touch, your heart longed to keep him there with you forever. The dates you went on to keep appearance that this was still casual to you. That this was still whatever he wanted it to be so it wouldn’t stop.

Pulling you from your thoughts Steve manhandles your body to line you up. Releasing your lips you watch at his cock sitting at your entrance. You coo, watching him slowly push in. Your fingernails dig into his shoulder, Pushing forward until he’s reached your depths. There’s a lascivious way to how he feels inside of you. His head falling into your neck, peppering kisses on the wet skin. 

“Feel so good around me,” he garbles into your neck. The pace he starts is slow at first, almost loving, but the jarring way he pushes the last few inches in reminds you what this is. Carding your hands through his hair you pull his head back to look him in the eyes.

“Fuck me Steve,” His eyes darken, following your command he pummels into your heat. Driving you both into moaning messes. Foreheads pressed together, slapping of flesh echoing against the tiled walls. He presses his lips to yours, the softness of it contrasting the carnal brutality of his cock driving into you.

Lowering his head he takes a pebbled nipple into his mouth, suckling and pulling. Knowing you love that pain wrapped in your pleasure. Your hands slap against his back, arching into his touch you cry out. Fingers digging into the corded muscles of his back you seek purchase on something, pleasure wrecking your body of any sense. 

“Steve!” You holler, your body drawing tight as the ever needed orgasm nears. “Please,” the gentleness in your pleas pulls Steve’s head back up. A hand leaves your waist, cupping the side of your face. “Yes, I’ll give you whatever you want.” He gasps out face tightening as you both near. 

“Come for me and you can have it all,” he continues hips never faltering. His cock stretching and dragging along your walls. A particular deep thrust sends you spinning, your legs tighten around him fingers digging into flesh enough to bruise if he hadn’t been a super-soldier. 

His pace stutters, a staccato of groans fall from his lips and you feel that telling of warmth shooting inside you. God how you loved the way he felt cumming inside you.

There’s a peaceful silence in the oncoming dawn, the two of you wrapped in each other under your bedsheets. Legs tangled together, your head resting on his chest, entranced by the rhythm of his heartbeat. You woke before him, a first, drawing random patterns on his chest with your finger. 

Idle thoughts race through your head, now that the mission is washed away after a night of rest you could not help but think on your date and Steve’s reaction to you withholding information. If it wasn’t addressed sooner rather than later it would just be a new topic for you two to not talk about, just like whatever this was. 

When he wakes up, his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him. The embrace welcomed and certainly something you could get used to as a routine. He lets out an exaggerated yawn and smacks his lips together looking down at you with a sleep ridden smile. A smile tugs at your lips at his adorable morning mannerisms. 

Better to get this all out in the open before the day began and you became a coward.

“About that date-” Before you can say more a shadow falls over him, lips downturned when he practically chucks you off him.

“You’re not obligated to tell me things like that,” his voice rough with sleep, he swings his legs off the bed sitting up with his back to you. “You’re really not obligated to me in any way outside of following mission directives,” the curtness in his voice is searing in your ears. 

Right, right you two weren’t obligated to each other. Obligate meant you had to get something back from him other than orgasms. 

“Oh right…” the silence settles between the two of you, heavy and uncomfortable. You pull your sheets up to cover your chest while sitting up. There are a few moments of controlled breathing, erratic heartbeats, and tense shoulders. Steve stands and makes for his dirty mission clothes, never looking back at you, covering his privates with the clothes but not putting them on. Your room was across from his, not like anyone would see him.

“I’ll see you around,” It wasn’t until he was out of the room that you realized the shared silence between you two was full of all the things left unsaid, or half-spoken. 

You don’t see him again until the next mission briefing a few days later. Only looking for him once, and when he brushed you off to spend time with Bucky you weren’t hurt only upset he never came to you later. 

Entering the familiar conference room you sit next to Tony who was surprisingly there before you. He smiles at you and you return it before facing forward. Steve not looking at you, for once. His eyes on the report in his hands, a grimace covering his face before he begins to discuss the upcoming mission. Eyes never leaving the paper.

“Are there naked girls on that paper man?” Bucky asks a soft chuckle is Tony’s input.

Steve huffs looking at his longest friend, “No.” a grumble under his breath. 

“Then maybe look up, what’s wrong with you punk?” Steve’s eyes divert to you for a moment, so fast you almost miss it before he’s looking at Bucky once more.

“Nothing,” he clears his throat and continues, his eyes perusing the room but never landing on you. Your face downturned to the table, the uneasy feeling you had during the shared shower returned but tenfold. He calls out your name and it startles you, jerking up to look at him. His lips pinched before he continues.

‘You and Tony will be doing this one together,” You look at Tony who gives you a thumbs up with a soft smile. While the two of you had been paired before on group missions it had never been just the two of you.

“We’ve got this Firecracker, right?”  Giving a tentative smile you nod in agreement. Looking back to Steve he’s staring down at his papers once more, brow furrowed and lips pursed. Whatever thoughts he had storming in his brain, not good.

~~*~~

Five days, you’re with Tony for five days on this mission. It wasn’t so bad except Tony loved to complain. You were used to the silence of Natasha and Bucky or friendly conversations with Steve. Not the never-ending complaints of one Tony Stark. 

You escape to your room, leaning against the shut door with a relieved sigh. Silence, blessed silence. 

However, that silence was short-lived when the echo of knocking on Steve’s door carried over. You should move further into your room and not eavesdrop but you were too exhausted to care enough about proper decorum.

“Hey Steve,” a soft familiar feminine voice greeted Steve as he answered the door. Your eyes narrowed. Who was that?

“Oh! You’re here.” He sounded flustered, “I’m so sorry I should have met you out front.” His words are rushed with an uneasiness to it. What was Steve hiding? 

“It’s alright, Bucky let me in and honestly I was just excited to see you for tonight” the soft comforting words carry across the hall through your door. Just as you went to step away, not wanting to hear anything that would do permanent damage to your already fragile heart.

“I mean we’ve been tiptoeing around each other for years then it was radio silence,” there was an awkward chuckle from Steve in response “Was surprised when you asked me out.” There it was. You fall back against the door, the back of your head hitting the door with a thud. 

“Oh, what was that?” The female voice questions but Steve dismisses it quickly and leads her down the hall. Away from you. For a date. A date that Steve was going on. Without you.

Your heart pounds in your ears, sliding down the door toppling onto your ass, the pounding on gets louder. Taking in large gulps of breath you try to gain a sense of reality, it's unobtainable. A buzzing noise is all you can hear. Whatever this was it made all torture you’d suffered in the past seem like child’s play. Crushing, that's what it felt like, being crushed from the inside out. Big fat tears made their way down your cheeks.

Oh, what a fool you had been. Why would you deserve to be cherished? How could someone see you more than a simple means to an end? Laying on your side, you curl up into yourself on the floor of your room. The buzzing in your head and straggled breaths the only sound you could make out.

~~*~~

Much later in the evening, there was a tentative knock on your door. Struggling to open your tear swollen eyes you make out your name being called. Another knock, louder this time, you sit up and with a deep breath, you rub your face. Slowly standing on your knees you open the door and look up to see Wanda’s worry stricken face.

“Oh no,” a soft sigh and suddenly your being picked up, she pulls your arm around your shoulder and leads you out of your room, down the hall where Steve left, with her. You feel the crushing sensation return.

Wanda sensing your ramping thoughts sets you on a stool in the kitchen and takes your hand.

“Deep breaths,” A soft hand on your chest, “In through your nose,” She takes a deep breath and you mimic holding it with her. The hand on your chest glows a soft red, you feel your body relax “out through your mouth,” together again you breath out. “Keep doing that I’m making some tea.”

Watching her movements you continue your breathing as instructed, a thought crept up. Did she listen to him as you did? Was her advice better than yours? Was he kissing her like he did you in the shower? 

“Stop!” Wanda’s voice soft but tone harsh enough to still your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed your breathing pick up. She brings the tea over and mimics the breathing pattern once more and you follow along. 

“There was something I wanted to tell you before that last group mission,” Wanda pushes the warm tea in front of you. Steam raising out the cup, you curl your fingers around the mug. The heat emitting into your hands helps you realize you had been cold. Pulling the mug up you take a small sip, the warmth blooming down your throat to your stomach releases an uncontrollable sigh from you, shoulders sagging.

“I heard your thoughts, about the date, about Steve,” the way she stresses his name makes you tense once more a sharp breath in. She tips her mug to you and taking another small sip you let the warmth soothe you once more.

“You’re worthy,” she speaks so softly you almost miss it. “I heard it, the thoughts you weren’t good enough, weren’t worth love.” Looking down at the mug setting it on the table you have no words to offer in response.

“You’re worth so much more than this world has given you,” a hand takes your from your mug, fingers intertwining. A feeling of warm euphoria slowly seeps in your hand up your body. She says your name making you look up at her. 

“It’s okay to say what you need,” you jerk your hand away at her words the feelings she provided evaporated.

You open your mouth to say something but the elevator doors ding, both turning you regret ever coming out of your room. 

There he was, handsome as ever, hands in his pant pockets. Head bowed down with furrowed brows. It’s a few steps out of the elevator that he notices you and Wanda. Steve freezes, his eyes didn’t leave you. Trailing up and down your body you suddenly became self-conscious of the fact you had never changed out of your gear and eyes more than likely still puffy from crying. You certainly looked sexy right now. 

He takes a timid step towards you, your back goes straight and you stand up from the stool. Whatever he had to say wasn’t going to help your current mood, you’d rather just avoid the inevitable. You were rather good at circumventing fate. 

When he says your name you make your exit of the kitchen, seeking solace in the four walls of your room. His feet are pounding on the floor as he make chase for you. 

A warm large hand grabs your upper arm stopping your progress. You whip your face around and look up at him. His lips pursed together again, there’s that look, the deepness of his blue eyes. The impossible futures you projected. 

“I-” He pauses and clears his throat, his eyes shifting around you. “I know you heard Sharon and I,” you let out a hiss at her name. Sharon, fucking, of course, Sharon Carter. There was nothing wrong with Sharon, she was a great CIA agent, a remarkable SHIELD agent but she was also locked into Steve’s past.

Not worthy, unlovable, not his, not enough, never amount to that connection. Is all that runs through your head. 

“Right, but you’re not obligated to tell me things like that,” You hate yourself right now, why were you throwing his words back in his face. “In fact,” Stop! Stop! “I’m not obligated to you in any way except following orders.” 

Steve’s reaction to your verbal assault is similar to if you had smacked him, he takes a step back leaning away from you. His hand slackens on your arm and you use this to slip out. 

Without another word you rip your arm from his loosened grip and make your way to your room. Shutting the door behind you, you walk into your closet and shut that door too. You go as deep as you can in the closet, far away from Steve. You didn’t want him to hear you crying, did not want him to hear your heartbreak.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #jealous!steve #captain america x reader #steve rogers smut #captain america smut #angst #marvel smu #Marvel Universe #tony stark #wanda maximov #Bucky Barnes #fanfic

[peppersonironi]

Batfam/Avengers Crossover Chapter Four: Growing Suspicions

Tagging (Let me know if you want to be tagged): @the-fair-maiden-of-fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov & Damian Wayne, Clint Barton & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tim Drake & Duke Thomas, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd,

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Justice League (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Bat-Cow (DCU), Goliath (DCU), Selina Kyle’s Cat Isis, Kate Kane (DCU), Duke Thomas,

Additional Tags: Batbrothers (DCU), Avengers Meet The Batfam, MCU/Batfam crossover, Crossover, no beta we die like robins, rated T for Jason’s language, I bleeped it out though. Just to be safe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, canon? What’s canon?, Deaf Clint Barton,Deaf Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Happy Batfamily (DCU), Birdflash and joyfire are implied/referenced,

Summary: After some questionable comments from Jason regarding murder, some of the Avengers are (understandably) freaked out and untrusting towards the bats. They decide to research their hosts.

Natasha stood to the side as Tim Drake and Stephanie Brown finished sparring. Everyone else was either watching or warming up. Natasha was part of the former.

Their skill was undeniable. She had no doubt that if it came to a real fight, she might not win. They had fought hard for almost five minutes, though Nat could tell it was all in good fun. Their looks of concentration did not hide the easy-going eyes and smiles.

Natasha was honestly unsure of who would win, but then Stephanie pulled out of a flip a split second early and delivered a kick to Tim’s chest. A moment later she had used his off-balance to bring him to the floor. He quickly surrendered when she sat on him with her forearm to his throat.

“That was an interesting kick,” Tim said as Stephanie helped him up. “I wonder who you learned it from.” He glanced over his shoulder to glare at a smirking Damian.

“I’m sorry Drake, is there a problem? Aren’t we all supposed to help each other improve our technique?” Damian was smirking even more at that point.

Tim snorted then walked off to get some water, grumbling as he went.

Stephanie laughed. “Sore loser!” She high fived Damian.

“Could I perhaps have a turn,” Natasha asked when no one seemed to be ready immediately to fight.

Steve stepped forward. “Shall we?”

Natasha groaned inside. Steve was a decent fighter, especially with his shield, but she had been looking forward to a challenge.

Natasha nodded. “Sure, I’d like a warm-up.” This got some chuckles from the teens.

They faced each other and started to circle for a few seconds. When Nat grew bored, she darted forward and struck his shoulder. He twisted and she used it to strike the back of his knee. She delivered a kick to the back of his head and he was on the ground a moment later.

There were several appreciative claps and laughs from the kids. The rest of the Avengers just nodded. They were used to Natasha beating them up.

“Someone needs a better opponent,” Bruce Wayne said. He didn’t smile, but there was a slight upturn on the corner of his mouth. “Damian, why don’t you take a turn. I know you’ve been itching for a fight.”

The boy smiled dangerously, and several of the Avengers laughed. They underestimated him - most likely due to his incredibly short stature - unlike Natasha. There was something strange about him, She had sensed it from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. And she hadn’t forgotten that he was dangerous.

Damian strolled forward and took his position. Natasha followed suit. A moment later Dick gave the mark to start.

Damian was fast . He sprinted forward in an instant and struck Nat’s gut. She barely managed to block, and wasn’t able to dodge the next blow, this time to her shin. She darted out with a counterblow, but he stepped out with his back leg, bringing his arm up to block. A split second later his back leg darted out to land a blow on the back of Natasha’s knee, bringing her down. He smoothly transitioned into bringing a knee up and jumping into a spinning kick landing at Natasha’s head.

Natasha was on the ground for a moment before she rose and resumed her atack. Damian flipped away before advancing once again. He unleashed a sequence of torso blows followed by a front handspring finished with a double kick. Natasha spun to the side and attacked him with multiple strikes across his shoulders and head.

She could tell his style easily. He stuck with torso and leg strikes due to his height, and only used roundabout kicks, which utilized his leg strength. But he was also holding back. Some of his blows were clearly designed to kill, but had been modified to be non life threatening. Perhaps what had been implied earlier was true: the kid had killed.

The fight dragged on, and Natasha couldn’t find an opening. Damian was ruthless in his attacks, and his form impeccable. There were times when Natasha was clearly losing, but she managed to pull back from the brink and keep going. She managed to get a decent combo in before Damian swiped at her head mid flip. She dodged to the side: a pivotal mistake. In the blink of an eye, Damian was at her. He brought her into a headlock, and Nat had no choice but to accept defeat.

They rose together, to the astonished faces of the Avengers. Tony was especially shocked. Apparently, none of them had ever considered that Natasha could be beaten. Let alone by an eleven year old.

“Great Job, both of you.” Dick said. “I haven’t seen anyone stand that long against Damian in a while.”

Damian smiled at her smugly.

Natasha smiled right back. The fight had been invigorating, and she hadn't had to work that hard before. But for the same reason, it was worrying. The kid taught with skill that would have taken years to develop. Damian had clearly been trained from a very young age, which brought a shiver down Natasha's spine. She had flashbacks to the Red Room. The bloody horror that has been her childhood.

No one should have to face that.

*****

They trained for a few more hours, and the mood gradually returned to whatever could be considered normal. The bats - Damian specifically - had declared the Avengers to be woefully under trained when it came to fighting. They did admit that Natasha was good, and Clint decent, however. They had everynight standards.

Everyone - even Banner, much to his dismay - had been roped into a basic hand to hand combat training routine, modified to fit each person's skill level. Natasha had enjoyed her's very much, but after three hard hours, she was grateful for the shower.

They had rejoined in the kitchen after everyone had a chance to bathe and chat for lunch. Natasha had found more clothes placed in her room, this time black ripped jeans and tank top. Nat wondered who they belonged to, they clearly didn't come from Cassandra, Barbara, or Stephanie.

Nat didn’t worry too much about it though. She just wanted food. Pretty much everyone was there, though Tony was behind her in the hallway. Natasha came and sat down on one of the stools, along with Tim and Cass.

Natasha had no doubt.

Wayne was wearing dressy casual slacks and a cashmere sweater, as was Damian. They truly looked identical. Everyone else was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, or some variation thereof.

“I have prepared a meal for you, do tell me if it is unsatisfactory,” Alfred the butler said as he set some food on the table. Everyone thanked the old man, who only smiled.

Natasha ate in peace, not ignoring anyone, but not partaking in conversation either. Then she heard Jason raise his voice.

“Come on Replacement, you know  I’m about as dangerous as a butterfly.” He was speaking sarcastically, though Tim didn’t seem to notice.

“Tell that to Black Mask’s henchmen,” he muttered, taking a bite of salad.

Jason snorted. “That was a long time ago, and in my defense, it was his mother’s f***ing fault!”

Damian sat straight upright. “How dare you-”

“You know it's true Dami,” Dick said. “She is malicious, even for an assassin.”

“Can we not talk about Talia over lunch?” Wayne asked, his hands on his temples.

Damian made his t-t sound once again, and continued to eat. Jason shrugged and launched back into a conversation with Tim.

Nat glanced over at Tony and Steve, who were frowning, most likely due to the mention of Damian’s assassin mother. They would be talking about this later, no doubt.

*****

“Did you hear how casually they mentioned it?!” Steve was saying. He had gathered Tony, Nat and Clint with him in one of the libraries, desperate to talk about their hosts.

Tony was nodding while he replied. “This place seems more dangerous than we first thought. I’m not sure if we can trust these … bats .”

Clint frowned. “But they have not actually done anything to harm us. Sure, their methods are questionable, but they are our only way home.”

“The least we can do is gather information,” Tony said. “But be careful. If they really do kill, then they might harm us for questioning them.”

“But what behavior have we seen that would suggest they would do something like that?” Clint insisted. “Sure Jason swears a lot and carries guns, and Damian sharpened his katana quite threateningly, but that is not cause for mistrust!”

“They mentioned assassins! The kid’s mother is an assassin !” Steve said. “That in and of itself is cause for mistrust .”

Natasha chuckled lightly, and Steve’s eyes widened. The three men slowly turned to their resident ex-assassin.

“I’m sorry, Tash,” Steve said. “I didn’t mean you , of course. You’re plenty trustworthy!” Tony couldn’t help but chuckle.

“But that’s exactly what you said,” Cint snapped, growing defensive.

“Steve,” Nat said, sighing. “I understand your worry, I really do. But I’m honestly not worried about us.”

Steve blinked. “Why not?”

“Because when I fought with Damian I could tell his style. He had clearly been trained to kill,” This gained an outraged ‘ahah’ from both Steve and Tony, to which Natahsa shook her head. “He had been trained to kill, yes, but his style was adapted. It was like he was unlearning everything he’d been taught. And I know how that is.”

Clint nodded his head, remembering when he had found Nat, and the months afterward when she had been taken in.

“You’re worried about the kids.” Clint stated.

It wasn’t really a question, but Nat nodded anyway. “He would have had to have been trained for years to be that skilled. And he’s only eleven …” Natasha shook her head. “They mentioned the mother in a way that leads me to believe she isn’t really in his life anymore. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say she’s the one that trained him, not Bruce Wayne.”

“So he probably isn't abusing the kid, that’s great,” Tony said sarcastically, though Natasha could still direct the relief in his voice. “But what about Jason and Cassandra? I wouldn’t put it past Jason to kill us, honestly. But Cassandra, I don’t know.”

“He mentioned something like manipulation while questioning Thor, so maybe he didn’t mean to?” Clint shook his head. “But he still talked about it so flippantly. I’m not sure about him.”

Natasha nodded. “I agree. Jason seems the most volatile. As for Cassandra, I am honestly not sure. I haven’t seen her fight, nor do anything violent. But the way she moves … in some ways I think she’s the most dangerous of them all.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, thinking. Natasha sat back, having done her piece. After a while, Tony spoke.

“I think we should do our own research. With a team this large, surely there will be plenty of information.”

*****

There was not, in fact, plenty of information. Tony had found a free computer on one of the desks in the library that was most likely meant for public use - it had a sticky note with the password (IAmTheNight) on it - and quickly set up a search.

They had started with the basics: Batman, Gotham Vigilantes. But there really hadn’t been much. The most they could gather was that Batman had been an urban legend up until he joined the Justice League. There had been sightings going back almost 15 years, which Meant Bruce had started when he was in his early twenties.

Robin had come in a few years later, and was clearly not Damian Wayne. But beyond that, there wasn’t much. Sometimes Robin wore pants, sometimes not. Sometimes Robin was even a girl. Tony could never find anything defininite. There were countless vigilantes mentioned, some nameless, others not. Some showed up for a few weeks, then disappeared.

Finally they found something.

“Ahah!” Tony said as he clicked on an article about Red Hood. “This should be worth our

time.” Tony pulled up the first paragraph, and began reading.

“It is well known to everyone in Gotham that Crime Alley is one of the most dangerous places in our already dangerous city. What is also well known is its protector: The Red Hood. The Red Hood has had a somewhat rocky past with Gotham, but unlike the other vigilantes that haunt the rooftops, it is relatively easy to follow.

Red Hood first came on the scene a few years ago and quickly made a splash. Hood quickly took over most if not all of Gotham’s crime organizations, and began to make immediate changes.

It is reported that all the drug syndicates halted dealing near schools or children. All human trafficking sceeced. Crime was managed, to a point that not even Batman had achieved.

Red Hood enacted a strict law: he only killed rapists, murderers, abusers, and drug dealers - only those who sell to kids.

But we can’t forget about the dark knight. Batman was seriously against Red Hood in the beginning, and there are several documented fights to prove it. Red Hood became the only major criminal to stay active with the bat’s knowledge, and not be defeated.

After a while, though, Red Hood left Gotham. No one is quite sure why, as he had built himself quite an empire. Later on - no one is sure of the specifics - he returned. Details are foggy around this time, but Red Hood started to appear again, back to patrolling Crime Alley. One thing was different though. This time he wore a red bat on his armor, effectively announcing his allegiance.

According to many Gothamites, Red Hood has not killed anyone since his return, and has given up his crime lord status. Some say he protects Crime Alley, and occasionally teams up with the other vigilantes of Gotham. Many eye witness reports say that Hood has a somewhat amicable relationship with the bats, and is clearly one of them. There are also notes of him using rubber bullets, proving even more that he has sided with the bats. Though this is uncertain, as others report he still uses lead, and has even continued killing.

At this point Hood is considered a hero by most of Gotham, with the minority calling him a plague upon the city. The Police themselves have even stopped actively searching for the red helmeted hero - whether this is due to their inability to catch him, or as a sign of friendship, it is unclear. Police Commissioner Gordan has not commented on the matter beyond a vague statement of Hood appearing with the bats when the bat signal is deployed.”

“Bat signal?” Clint asked.

Tony typed furiously for a moment before retrieving the answer. “Apparently the police have an industrial spotlight on their roof with the silhouette of a bat on it which they shine when in need of the vigilantes.”

Natasha smirked. “Overkill much?”

Tony shrugged. “Hey, apparently  it works.”

“That’s beside the point,” Steve interjected. “We found barely anything on Jason. Sure it says he doesn’t kill anymore, but that doesn’t mean they can be trusted.”

Clint groaned again. “Let me guess, you want us to investigate the family personally?”

Steve nodded. “Nat, I want you to start, you are the intelligence expert after all.”

Natasha nodded, though inside she was in turmoil. She wanted to trust these people. She didn’t know why, but she felt connected somehow. Like they were similar in some core way.

Steve nodded right back. “Good. Meet back here in a few hours. See what you can find.”

#Avengers meet batfam #dc/marvel crossover #batfam #avengers #batfamily shenanigans #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #steve rogers #tony stark #clint barton #natasha romonova

[dontcare77ghj]

Public

Steve x reader x Tony

Hey guys, I know I’ve been absent for a while, what a lot of you don’t know is I have a lot of issues with depression and anxiety and I’ve had some problems recently. And of course, when I decided to post Tumblr crashed. Got to love the universe but without further adieu I present Public.

WARNING; COULD BE TRIGGERING, MENTIONS OF BEING ROOFIED AND UNWANTED TOUCHING. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING.

The three of you didn’t have a lot of privacy. What with you all being avengers, Tony being Tony, Steve being Captain America and you being a mutant and the sister of Bruce Banner, privacy was very limited.

The press had made it clear that they would report on anything that the team did, but they seemed to have a keen interest on the three of you. So when you, Steve and Tony decided to have a relationship together, you all decided to keep it a secret. From everyone.

It was not that you didn’t trust the team, but the more people who knew, the higher the likelihood that the press would find out. So you kept it a secret because it was your relationship, and it was nice to have something just for you. As far as the world knew, you were all close friends and to them that was that.

"It's just two weeks." Steve promised as you helped him fold some clothes. "I'll be back in no time, you won't even notice I've been gone." He assured.

"Of course we'll notice that you're gone. Two weeks is an eternity." Tony complained, flopping his head down onto Steve's pillows. "You're leaving us all alone."

"Tony he's not leaving us alone, stop being so dramatic." You smiled, throwing one of Steve's shirts at him.

"And it's not like I'm doing it on purpose." Steve insisted as Tony threw the shirt back at you. "We have a job, sometimes we get called out individually."

"I know, I know." Tony said, waving a hand at the two of you. "But I swear Fury does it on purpose."

"He doesn't do it on purpose." You told him, shaking your head slightly. "He knows our skill sets and assigns the missions accordingly."

"No, he does it to ruin our lives. I swear the man knows everything and thinks it's funny to send one of us on missions at a time.” Tony whined, sitting up on the bed.

“Okay, you need to pick up some shirt and start folding.” You said, throwing the shirt Steve was holding at him. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me alone with him.” You sighed only half serious.

“Oh I know, life’s so cruel.” Steve teased, wrapping his arms around your waist. “How are you going to a survive left with only one boyfriend?”

“Speaking of surviving, you better come back to us alive.” You said, looking up at him seriously. “If you don’t, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Language.” Tony said from the bed.

“I promise to come back alive as long as you make sure he takes care of himself.” Steve said, jerking his head towards the man on the bed.

“Yes sir.” You said teasingly.

“And you,” He continued, turning the two of you to face Tony. “Make sure Y/N takes care of herself.”

“You act as if neither of us know how to take care of ourselves.” Tony said, appearing mildly offended. “Relax Stevie, we can look after each other for two weeks.”

“I hope so.” Steve murmured as you sat down next to Tony.

“You need to not worry so much, honey.” You said, reaching a hand towards him. “It’s going to turn your hair grey.”

“I don’t get worried about my hair colour; I worry about the two of you. The two of you weren’t great at taking care of yourselves before and you still aren’t that good at remembering to look after yourselves.”

“We might be human messes but we can take care of ourselves for two weeks.” Tony said as Steve sat next to you.

“Exactly, now, all you need to worry about is coming back to us.” You said, kissing Steve on the corner of his lips.

“I love you two.” Steve smiled, pulling you into his side as Tony repositioned himself on Steve’s other side.

Neither of you said anything as you both burrowed further into his sides. You didn’t need to say anything as you and Tony took each other’s hand over Steve’s stomach. The message was clear enough for Steve as you all laid together.

You both loved him too.

“You’re a cruel bastard, Stark.” You groaned as Tony went through your closet.

“That’s what you said last night.” He said turning back to look at you with a shit eating grin. You took a pillow from next to you and lobbed it at the billionaire who dodged expertly.

“Different context, Tony.” You told him, shaking your head. “Do we have to go tonight?” You questioned once more.

“Yes, darling, we have to go.” Tony said, sounding unsympathetic to your unwillingness to attend. “Where are all your party dresses?” He asked, still looking through your closest.

A party. Something you would normally be excited to attend but tonight you just couldn’t find it i you to want to go. Steve had been gone for just over two weeks at this point and you were worried. You could tell Tony was also worried about your blonde boyfriend but he hid his worry easily.

Steve had only been permitted one call and that was on the day he’d originally planned to come home. He’d sounded tired when he spoke and was only allowed to speak for a short time. He had said that he had to stay there for another week at least, maybe longer if things didn’t go as planned.

You hadn’t heard from him since and the silence made you worry. As an Avenger you knew radio silence happened so no one caught wind of location’s or plans, but just because you knew and understood that did mean it calmed you.

“Hidden so you can’t make me go.” You told him, laying back on the bed.

“Found them.” He said, pulling the bag out from under your bed. “Even for you that wasn’t a great hiding spot, baby girl.” He teased

“Well you didn’t give me much time to hide them.” You huffed, rolling over to face your boyfriend. “Tony?”

“Hm.” He hummed, not looking up from the bag.

“You didn’t go to bed last night, did you?” You questioned, placing your hand on his face and rubbed the dark ring under his eye with your thumb.

“No.” He said, not wanting to lie. He looked up at you and smiled a small smile. “I’m sorry, I know I promised you that I would but I just didn’t.”

“I know you meant to. You were doing so well, Tone, you can’t stop now.” You said. You took his face in both his hands and kissed the bags under his eyes before kissing him. “You don’t have to do it for me or Steve but just do it for you, okay?”

“Okay.” He agreed. “Okay.” He repeated, kissing you once again. “Now, get up and put this on.” Tony added, placing a dress next to you and standing.

You groaned as you sat up. “We just had a moment and you want to go to a party?”

“Yep.” He said, popping the p. “Get dressed, baby doll.” He repeated, helping you stand and pushing you toward the bathroom.

After several minutes you left the bathroom, fully dressed and ready, and lifted your arms. “Satisfied?”

“Very.” He responded, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Let’s go.”

“Who is going to arrive first?” You asked as he pulled on his standard glasses. “You or me?”

“We’re arriving together.” He said firmly. “We can arrive at a party together without revealing it all.”

“Maybe when Steve gets back, we can talk about telling the team.” You suggested as you walked into the elevator.

“I think that sounds great, baby girl, even if your brother might kill us both.” Tony smiled, quickly placing a kiss to your forehead.

“I wouldn’t let him hurt either of you. Promise.” You smirked as the elevator arrived. You and Tony pulled away from each other and entered the party. You both walked over to the bar where you greeted Natasha and Clint.

“ ‘Bout time you two showed up.” Clint said, embracing you in greeting.

“Had to drag this one here.” Tony told him, taking a seat next to you. “She was adamant she didn’t want to come.”

“All I wanted to do was watch Harry Potter and eat some pizza. Is that too much to ask?” You questioned as Natasha placed a drink in front of you.

“You, me and Clint can do that tomorrow.” Natasha said. Apart from your boys and your brother, you were closest to the archer and spy. “Though I think Steve will kill us if he finds out we gorged on pizza.” She joked, making the three of you laugh.

“We finally found you all.” Bruce said as he and Thor arrived. “Why did we have to come to this, Tony?” He asked, hugging you in greeting.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t plan this. I just got told to be here.” He said, taking a drink from his glass. “I am just as in the dark as you are.” He added, raising his hands in innocence.

“I organised this.” Clint piped up causing Natasha to hit him on the arm. “Nat and I organised this.” He amended.

“Usually you two don’t like coming to these things.” You commented, looking between the two. “What are you two up too?”

“Well I just wanted a reason to raid Tony’s stash.” Natasha smirked.

“And, we just wanted a reason for us all to have a causal, relaxing, night. Everyone’s seemed really stressed for the past few weeks and what better way to fix that than to get drunk.”

You shared a subtle look with the man behind you. You and Tony hadn’t been in the best of moods recently.

“Brother Clint, what a fantastic idea!” Thor cheered, clapping the archer on the shoulder. “Let us all partake of brother Tony’s liquor and be merry!” Thor’s enthusiasm was contagious and soon the team was enjoying themselves.

After dancing with some of the team and your brother for several songs, you stepped away and back to the bar. You’d just been given another drink when someone sat down next to you.

“Hi, I’m Andrew.” The man greeted, reaching a hand towards you to shake.

“I’m Y/N.” You responded, shaking his large hand in your smaller one. “You’ve come to a couple of these before, right?”

“Yeah, one of my friends always gets invited to these things, so they always drag me along.” He laughed. “Normally I’m not one to party but I never seem to have a choice when it comes to him.”

“Tony’s the same, always drags everyone to his parties.” You said with a smile.

You sat at the bar with Andrew, simply talking for a long time. He was very friendly and open, he was quite nice to talk to.

“Oh shit.” You cussed as your phone slipped through your fingers. You leaned down to grab the device before it hit the floor. “God I can be such a klutz sometimes.” You joked as you sat back up.

“Probably doesn’t help you’ve had a couple drinks.” Andrew joked.

“Tolerance has nothing to do with it.” You said, picking up your drink. “I could be the soberest person in the world and I would still end up falling down the stairs.” You continued, taking a drink.

You and Andrew continued to chat for another twenty minutes before your head began to pound.

“Are you feeling okay?” Andrew questioned, placing a hand on your arm.

“No, I’m feeling really dizzy all of a sudden.” You groaned, placing your head in your hands. Andrew placed his drink on the bar, which echoed loudly in your ears.

“Come on, let’s get you some fresh air.” He said, helping you stand. Andrew led you out of the room and away from the party. By the time he stopped, you couldn’t hear any sounds from the party and you were beginning to become more disoriented and felt worse.

“Andrew, I really don’t feel good.” You slurred, stumbling in your heels. Andrew gripped your forearms and pushed you into the wall.

“It’s alright, you’ll feel better soon.” Andrew said, running his hands up and down your arms. “You’ll feel better soon.” He repeated.

At his touch you began to weakly fight back but you couldn’t control your body. You couldn’t even use your abilities to heat your skin up slightly.

“I originally wanted the red head but I think you’ll do just nicely. I know you feel bad sweetheart but I know all about your little mutation and I wasn’t sure how you’d react to the drugs, I had to give you a lot bigger dose.” You heard him say over the pounding in your skull.

Your brain felt so muddled. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Your mind was unable to follow all that was happening. Your body wouldn’t listen when you told it to move and you couldn’t do anything.

“Hey!” You heard through the fog. Suddenly there was nothing holding you up and your weak legs were no longer able to support you as you collapsed.

“C’mon sweetheart, stay awake for me.” Someone said, tapping your face lightly. You groaned as you forced your eyes open.

“Tony.” You mumbled before closing your eyes again.

“Steve, leave him.” You heard Tony yell. “F.R.I.D.A.Y tell Bruce to meet us in the infirmary and lock the door behind us. Do not let this man leave.” He ordered as you felt yourself being moved.

“Doll, can you open your eyes for us? Please doll?” A familiar voice asked as you began to move. You couldn’t work out who was speaking to you or who was carrying you as you drifted off into unconsciousness.

Beep

Beep

Beep

A groan escaped your lips at the continuous sound. You reached a hand out in the direction of the noise but you felt a hand on top of yours.

“Baby girl.” Tony said, wrapping both his hands around yours. “Can you open your eyes for me?” After several minutes of trying, you let out a moan as your eyes opened to the blinding white lights. “There she is.” Tony said with a small smile.

“Please tell me I’m dead and not in the infirmary.” You begged.

“Sorry to disappoint you darling but you’re alive and in the infirmary.” Tony told you with a smirk. You groaned again and let out a sigh. “Do you remember what happened?” He asked, suddenly serious.

“Not much. It’s all fuzzy.” You said, your head starting to hurt as you tried to remember the events.

“You got roofied.” Tony said, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerted us to what was happening and the amount of drug in your system. Andrews being dealt with as we speak and Bruce is sure that your mutation is working double time to flush the drugs from your system.”

“ Did anything happen?" You asked, unable to remember. 

"No we got there in time. He didn't do anything like that. You're okay baby girl." Tony assured. 

"Thank God." You sighed, relaxing into the pillow. 

"Do you want me to call Bruce and Steve back into the room?" He asked. 

"Yes please." You said, not registering what he said for several seconds. "Wait Steve's here?" 

"He got back last night." Tony nodded. "He helped stop Andrew and carried you here." He told you before asking F.R.I.D.A.Y to alert the men that you were awake. You and Tony talked for a couple minutes before the door opened and Steve ran in, Bruce following closely behind him. 

"You're back." You said as Steve wrapped his arms around you. "You're okay." You stated, looking him over. 

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Steve questioned, pulling back slightly. "How are you feeling?" He asked as Bruce began to check your vitals over. 

"I'm fine, a bit tired and I don't remember much of last night but fine." You assured. 

"Well according to your vitals, the drug is leaving your system very nicely and if you don't have any more reactions you can go back to your floor tonight." Bruce said. "And I mean your floor." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked your brother, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Don't go over exerting yourself, go to your floor and sleep. Sleep not sleeping with these two." He said, pointing at your boyfriends. 

"Sorry I forgot to mention, the whole team knows we're together now." Tony told you. 

"And the public, somehow last night events leaked as well as our reactions and now they all know." Steve added. 

"Bruce I was going to tell you at some point, I just didn't want you to go off at these two. Sorry." You apologised to your brother. 

"I'm not mad that you didn't tell me." Bruce assured you. "You couldn't have chosen two better partners but if they hurt you, I will hurt them." He assured, placing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll come back soon, I'll let these two have some time with you." 

"Love you Bruce." You said. 

"I love you too." He responded as he left the room. 

"I know this isn't how you wanted to tell everyone, doll, but and it wasn't in anyway how we thought they'd find out." Steve started but was cut off as you pressed your lips to his. 

"I don't care that anyone found out, I'm just glad you're home and safe." You said before panting your lips to Tony's. "I'm just glad we're together. We I love you both."

"We love you too." Both boys responded. 

It did not matter that the public knew, it did not matter how they knew. All that mattered was you had your boys and all three of you were safe and together. 

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[wandasimpathizer]

I’ve talked about this quite a bit with some of my friends and various family members who probably looked like I was crazy. *Following gifs are not mine*

No one, and I mean no one deserves Wanda Maximoff. For four movies we see her struggle and fight with everything she has to make a place for herself, to achieve and gain something that has eluded her for years: peace. She and her brother volunteer for Strucker’s experiments, and maybe they do it for revenge on any and all people that hurt them, but (and no one can fight me on this) their endgame, their deep-under-the-surface reason is for peace. They’re not after world piece or maybe not even peace within Sokovia, but peace within themselves. Where they don’t have fight like hell every day just to barely survive and have to do it all over again the next day. 

Her powers are unparalleled. No one has powers like hers, especially to her knowledge, and she has to learn to control them all on her own, with her only source of “encouragement” being HYDRA and Strucker. She is trained and raised to be a weapon without anyone telling her that that’s wrong, and I speculate that she doesn’t even know it. When the Avengers show up and attack the base, she’s fueled not only for her hatred for them (primarily because of Tony) but also because of whatever anti-Avengers propaganda was most likely drilled into her head by Strucker and other HYDRA operatives. 

She and her brother side with Ultron because he promises them the peace that they seek. He assures them that he’s meant to save humanity and the world by getting rid of terrorists, like the Avengers. Wanda’s skeptical (of course she is, she’s heard that promise before) and not being able to see into Ultron’s head doesn’t help, but she forces down her worries, maybe even her fears, because this is what she wants more than anything. It won’t fix what happened, it won’t bring back her parents, but she won’t have to lose anyone else. 

Or so she thinks.

Wanda is not evil. She was a misguided, angry little girl in pain. She lost her parents at the tender age of ten to a bomb manufactured under the name of a man who flies around trying to help people and save the world. Imagine the hypocrisy of that. Ultron destroys her home and kills her brother, her protector, her friend, the only blood family she has left on this earth, and once again she loses everything she loves to the hands of Tony Stark.

She’s only a secondary character, so we barely see into the inner workings of her mind, but--and this is just my speculation--it seems to me, that is nearly impossible for Wanda to walk away from the events at the end of Age of Ultron with no mental issues whatsoever. I speculate that at the very least she has depression (from the loss of her brother, but also the loss of her parents) and maybe PTSD (again, from the bomb that killed her parents, and the fight in Sokovia against Ultron). Since we don’t see her get help (if she does) or deal with any mental disorders (including anyone, except for Tony’s disorders are addressed), it’s hard to say exactly what she has, if anything, and how she’s doing. The most I can do is assume that all and all, she’s not doing great, or at least not as great as she looks. 

In Civil War, Wanda looks fine. She’s learning how to be an Avenger, learning from Steve and Natasha, she looks like she’s gaining some confidence, which is a big step considering that she seemed to lose some during the fight with Ultron probably a year prior. We don’t know if she’s been on any missions before Lagos, but given that Steve and Natasha keep drilling her on what to look out for and testing her, she probably hasn’t been on many. 

Then Rumlow’s bomb goes off and Steve is stuck in the blast zone, surrounded by a crowd of people. Wanda acts on instinct, doing what she was taught to do, which is to protect civilians at all cost (that’s their job, right?), and she lifts the bomb (and Rumlow) with her powers away from the civilians. It’s easy to see how difficult it is for her to try to contain the blast, doing so is probably painful for her, and she accidentally slips, and the bomb goes off in a building killing eleven people. 

Now, while eleven people killed is a lot, it’s not as bad as a whole marketplace full of them. She feels like she did bad, that she’s a murderer, and while she was responsible for those eleven people killed, Wanda saved more people than she killed, her friend and teammate included. The confidence she was starting to gain? Once again, she’s lost it. Her name is plastered on every news station, some people calling her a monster, some calling her a terrorist, some are calling her arrest, and she’s agreeing with each and every one of them. She has lost all faith in herself and her abilities and the only person to make her feel better is Steve, who tells her that it’s okay to make mistakes that it’s impossible to save everyone. 

He doesn’t let her beat herself up about this because Steve fought in a war--WWII. He’s speaking from personal experience, from the point of view of a soldier. Steve would love to be able to save everyone, but it’s not practical. He wanted to save Bucky on the train, but if he had, his whole team could’ve been put at risk, not to mention so many other innocent people that would’ve been affected had they not done their job. To save millions of people, he sacrificed himself and crashed that plane into the ice. Steve knows what she’s going through and he sympathizes with her, and she maybe is even starting to feel better. Until Secretary Ross shows up with the Accord.

The Accords that seem to primarily be targeted at someone like her, an enhanced individual. Ross--without tact or sympathy--addresses Wanda’s failings and nightmares, showing video footage of both Sokovia and Lagos, and then stands in front of her, comparing--mostly Bruce Thor--powered people to “a couple of 30 megaton nukes” (even Tony compares her to something dangerous, rather than a person, calling her “a weapon of mass destruction”.) She’s faced with an impossible decision: either sign away her rights or retire. She doesn’t know what will happen to her if she retires. She’s scared and she’s hurting, and the arguing between her friends, her family, is damaging her already damaged mental health. 

She looks up at them and says “You’re saying they’ll come for me.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. She already knows how she’s looked at in the eyes of this country. Vision promises that they’d protect her, but can he really promise that? I don’t think she believes that. She’s conflicted and sad, and doesn’t put up much of a fight when Tony puts her on house arrest (without her knowledge). When Vision explains that she can’t leave the compound because of other people’s safety instead of her own, she doesn’t fight him. She just looks defeated, and she remains so until Clint comes to get her out. 

At first she turns away from him and hides herself. She listening to what they’re saying about her on the news, what maybe some of her teammates are saying and reflects it back at Clint saying “I’ve caused enough problems.” She looks at herself and sees a troublemaker, a nuisance, a terrorist, rather than a kid trying her best to be and do good. And Clint--loveable, papa Clint--refuses to listen to her self-deprecating sorry attempt at a refusal. He sees her for who she is, and makes her see it too, albeit kind of harshly, and reignites some of her lost confidence. 

For the first time in a while she stands up for herself, pushing Vision into the floor gritting out perhaps one of the greatest lines of dialogue to come out of these movies, “I can’t control their fear, only my own.” Wanda stops being afraid of herself and chooses to fight for her rights and herself with Steve in Germany. Even when it’s incredibly clear that she will be reprimanded harshly for what she chose to partake in, she doesn’t care. 

In return, she is treated inhumanely. She is targeted by Ross and those in the Raft, fitted with a straight jacket and shock collar. She is seen and treated as a monster, and when the shot cuts to her and once more she looks defeated. In fact, she looks hollow. Like a shell and she’s not even there. She’s alone and her worst fears have been realized. 

 We don’t see what her life is like after she’s rescued by Steve until Infinity War. She is in Edinburgh with Vision, and for the first time ever, we see her happy. Genuinely happy. She’s smiling, she’s without a care in the world, and she’s allowing herself to be happy with Vision. Until the Black Order show up. Vision is injured, we see her stand to fight them, placing herself between Vision and Proxima Midnight and Corvus Glaive.

Arriving at the compound and meeting up with Rhodey and Bruce, they all learn of Thanos and his quest for the stones, suddenly, just like the rest of her life, she’s forced to lose something she loves. Choosing not to sacrifice Vision may be selfish, but she’s allowed to be selfish. Vision is all she has left in this world that loves her for who she is. He isn’t afraid of her or her powers, and sees the beauty in it. Vision has always seen the good in her and he’s the one thing that makes her happy, so she holds on to him for as long as she can. 

They look for another way, head to Wakanda and try to take the stone out before destroying it. The battle breaks out and she’s kept away from it, protecting Vision and keeping ready to destroy the stone the second it’s out. She’s something we haven’t really seen and it’s determined. When she enters the battle, defending Natasha and Okoye, she’s sure of herself and her abilities, and doesn’t falter. She’s not timid and scared like in Civil War. 

But all that comes crashing down again once Thanos arrives and she’s forced to do the one thing that will destroy her. She doesn’t want to, she keeps refusing him, but there’s no time and no more options. Looking at Vision, with tears rolling down her cheeks and her bottom lip trembling, she turns her powers onto Vision.

The powers that took so long for her to love. The powers that made her do horrible things. The powers that made everyone including herself see her as a monster. The powers born from hate, that seem to destroy more than build. The powers that only one person saw beauty in, were now being used to kill the last bit of love in her life. 

And when it’s done, when she’s destroyed the stone, when she’s doubled over in grief and hatred for herself, she is forced to witness the love of her life come back to her, only to be killed again in front of her, his lifeless gray body thrown to the ground like he was nothing. 

She doesn’t fight anymore. Everything was drained out of her, and when Thanos snaps, and she starts turning to dust, when everyone around is looking in confusion, fear, or pain, she looks up from Vision’s body with relief.

When her death comes, she’s grateful because anything, even death, is better than being alone. She’ll be reunited with her family, her parents, her brother, and she won’t have to be alone anymore. 

Now Endgame, I think we can agree, was a huge mess. But when Bruce brings everyone back, and they all come through the portals, ready to take on Thanos, I think that scene was just *chef kiss*

Wanda’s coming back from the snap with the events of Infinity War still feeling pretty fresh. It didn’t feel like five years to her, and in fact, to her, it probably feels as though she lost Vision only hours ago. So when she faces off 2014 Thanos, she’s angry.

Not only is she feeling the loss of Vision, but she also comes to learn that she lost Natasha as well. Natasha, a person who probably meant a great deal to her, maybe a considered part of her family, someone who always tried to protect her and taught her how to survive in this world. She’s gone, having sacrificed herself to bring Wanda (and the rest of the fallen) back, and Wanda never got to say goodbye. Then, in an act that completely went against his entire character, Steve disappears into the past when returning the stones to live his life with Peggy, and she loses Steve as well, someone who always believed in her and believed the best in her from the beginning, even in Ultron. They leave her to deal with her grief ALONE.

And now I come to WandaVision, her show premiering on Disney+ at some point. And while I can’t say for certain how it will end up, going based on how Marvel has treated this particular character and with how the premise of the show looks, I can only guess that whatever is left of Wanda’s crumbled and incredibly damaged mental health is going to be blown to smithereens, sending her into a downward spiral of madness. 

I (and many others, too many to name and give credit to, but I’m giving it) speculate that in the show, Wanda creates her own happiness, giving her the life she wants and wishes she had with Vision (marriage, kids, etc.) and eventually loses touch with reality, thus, it's them fucking with her already damaged and shitty mental state even more when something snaps her back to reality. Again, can’t say for sure that that’s what will happen, but one can guess. I sincerely hope that Wanda’s mental health will stop getting kicked around like a hacky sack, but I really doubt that she’ll be shown mercy. Since her first moment on screen when she was included in the MCU, Marvel has taken every opportunity to tear her down in every way. They make her lose everything and everyone she’s ever loved, while simultaneously creating situations that cause her character to be torn down, leaving her to question everything about her and what she does. 

#scarlet witch #vision #marvel #avengers age of ultron #captain america civil war #avengers inifinity war #avengers endgame #wandavision #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #tony stark #not hating on tony stark #marvel needs to stop playing with wanda and let her heal #wanda maximoff is the strongest avenger #cant change my mind #i may have accidentally hurt myself #wanda maximoff needs a hug #and so do i #sorry for the rant #gifs are not mine #i found them on google

[the-omni-princess]

All Yours

Author: @the-omni-princess​

Summary: It’s simple really. You have a secret, and there’s an infamous Stark party. What could go wrong?

Prompt: Hyacinth – Jealousy / constancy of love, fertility

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!reader

Warnings: fluff, alcohol, surprises

A/N:

Slowly making my way through all my writing challenges lol

This is for @writingsoftheloser​ ’s  #vi1.5kmeaningschallenge !!!!

-

[My Masterlist]

----

Dressed to the nines, dripping in jewels, and with a dress with way too many slits in it to still be considered a dress, you felt a bit self-conscious while walking into the Stark Party alone. Your hair was braided back, with small white chrysanthemum flowers tucked into the weaved hair. The slits in the dress showed off your glowing skin, and if you turned too fast, someone could catch a glimpse of the navy colored lace corset and panties you were wearing underneath – a gift from Natasha, she deemed this lace pair as the ‘dick me down lingerie’ – yet despite all this, you pushed past the burning edges of self-doubt creeping in, in favor of tilting your chin up higher and walking with confidence.

What was this party celebrating again? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure. All you knew was that most of the team was off-site for the past month, holed up in the Amazonian Jungle, with absolutely no contact, and that this party was made too far in advance to cancel. Both you and Natasha had stayed behind since the mission required more brute force, and well because Natasha had a broken wrist.

Despite the wrist brace, Natasha still looked stunning in a tightfitting red dress. You both sipped on your martinis, bored after having smiled and waved to every dignitary in the room. The mission was supposed to be over a week ago, which had you antsy and fitted with nervous. Ever the spy, Natasha noticed. “Babe, calm down. They’ll be absolutely fine.”

Finishing up your virgin martini and setting the glass down on the bar, you nodded. “I know, I’m just worried. You know how these missions go, a few bullet wounds aren’t enough to make them go home, especially Bucky and Steve.”

She shrugged, “Bucky will be absolutely fine with Steve watching over him-“

“Oh, we both know Steve’s more likely to be shot.”

“Not helping, y/n/n,” The redhead rolled her eyes, finishing up her own drink before waving down the bartender. “Either way, forget boys, how’s the new kitten doing?”

“Alpine? Oh, that cutie’s fine. Always nosy, pushing stuff off counters, but other than that she’s a little angel. Clearly, I’m not her favorite parent, but she has to live with me so,” you shrugged.

Natasha smirked, taking in your fruity cocktail as she started sipping her own. “Is that the new drink Wanda was going on about?”

Knowingly, you took a sip, letting the cherry and mango flavors sit on your tongue. “Yeah, but get your own,” you glared at her. She grinned wickedly, and you realized your plan was slowly going down the drain. “Nat, don’t even think about it,” you warned.

The former assassin was much too quick for you, grabbing your drink and taking a sip before you could protest. Her face soured, before giving you the drink back. “Flavor’s not bad, but a virgin cocktail? Who are you and what have you done to my favorite techie?”

You couldn’t hold back your giggles as you finished your drink. “I’m cutting back on alcohol.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll believe that’s the reason,” she gave you a look, making your guts flip. She couldn’t possibly have known, hell, you made this plan only a few weeks ago. Nat was too smart for your own good.

As you thought of a coverup, a voice interrupted your conversation. “Excuse me, Bartender? Whiskey on the rocks for me, and two cocktails for the ladies.” A man had appeared beside you, Natasha on the opposite side of you, looking just as repulsed as you.

“No thanks,” you pushed the new cocktail to Nat. “I’m tapped out.” You gave the man your best ‘please leave me alone I’m only being polite, but I’ll punch you’ face. Nat wisely didn’t mention your lack of interest in the free drink, something you would usually partake in.

“Come on, loosen up a bit. It’s only a drink,” the man said, most likely thinking that was a good way to ‘charm’ you. Ha, not likely.

“And I declined,” you snarled, quickly losing patience.

“I’m only trying to be nice-“ The man tried to reach for your wrist

“And the lady said no. Get lost,” a new voice appeared, a metal hand latching onto the arm that tried to grab you. He shoved the man away, rather roughly, but you truly did not mind that at all. Bucky placed himself between you and the man, a scowl on his face as the man walked off grumbling, his metaphoric tail between his legs.

“You’re home early,” you tried, nonchalantly, Nat rolling her eyes beside you. “And I had that.”

“Just got back,” Bucky turned towards you, softening as he took in what you were wearing. He himself was in a leather jacket and black jeans, a small cut on his forehead, but other than that he looked perfectly fine. “Couldn’t wait to see ya, baby,” he grinned, hands coming to rest on your hips as he pulled you closer. The petname made your spine tingle, but the fact was he couldn’t possibly have known either, so you stayed silent. Out of the corner of your eyes you noticed Natasha most definitely giving you a look. Well, that took longer than you thought it would. “And I get here, only to have my best girl being hit on by some rookie agent.” His tone made you look back up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Was someone jealous?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe a little,” he conceded, shooting you a goofy smile. “Can’t help it. I missed you,” he tilted your head up, smiling as he captured your lips in his. Soft, and gentle, with an underlining power and authority and dominance. God, you missed him more than you care to admit, but that might just be the hormones talking.

You gently pulled away, “I missed you too.”

He tugged on your hands, leading you to the dance floor, drink and Natasha forgotten. You made a mental note to apologize to her in the morning. Bucky pulled you closer, gently swinging the two of you back and forth to the music.

Quiet, at peace. It took a few songs before you were ready to break the magic. By then, the only people remaining were the rest of your found family. Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Clint were all on the sofas, nursing drinks while making jokes about the mission, which must have gone well. Natasha and Wanda were standing by the bar, giving you little funny looks. Oh, they most definitely figured you out. Sam was beside Maria, flirting, and currently striking out, even though Maria had already agreed to a date next week with him. Thor and Vision were both in towards the kitchen, figuring out the new appliance you had installed while they were gone. It felt warm and fuzzy. Like everything right had finally happened in your life.

Home. It felt like home.

“Bucky,” you murmured, gently pulling your head up to look at him.

“Yes, Fiancé mine?” He grumbled, softly pulling you back against him, making you giggle.

“I have some news I wanted to share with you and the team.” That most certainly got his attention.

He raised an eyebrow, pulling away from you. “Should I be concerned?”

You shrugged, “Probably,” you admitted with a teasing smile.

He chuckled, “Well let’s tell them.”

You shook your head, “This is me telling you as well, go sit, I’ll be right back.” You pulled away, rushing back to your room to grab what you needed.

When you got back, the entire team was surrounding the sofas and chairs in the main living area, Bucky sitting beside Steve with a space on his other side for you. You stood in front of them and took a deep breath. “So… Did anyone notice the new flowers in the kitchen?” you started.

Multiple heads turned to glance at them. “Blue and Pink Hyacinths?” Wanda supplied, knowing your small obsession with flowers.

“Yep. Does anyone know what they mean?” Another game of yours. Even the white chrysanthemums in your hair had the meaning of loyal love and truth. Every flower had a meaning, and you loved using them for your own games.

“Oh! I know!” Steve looked excited, he usually couldn’t remember which flowers meant what, but always admired the ones you planted in your garden upstairs, usually helping you if Bucky was on a mission. “They mean jealousy or constancy of love!” He grinned, making you smile.

“Yep! But there’s one more meaning.” You whispered, handing Bucky the small envelope that had been burning a hole in your hands since you picked it up.

He gave you a confused look but opened it, nonetheless, completely trusting in you. “What’s this?” He murmured, looking at the small grainy photo.

“It also means fertility,” you supplied, waiting for who would connect it first.

It was clear by the high pitch in her voice, Natasha put all the clues together first. “You’re pregnant! That’s why you weren’t drinking alcohol!” You simply nodded, gauging Bucky’s reaction.

His eyes widened, eyes shooting from you to the picture and back and back again. “We-… we’re having a kid?” He mumbled, slightly confused and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Yeah-“ your voice cracked, and his eyes locked onto yours at the sound, taking in both of your teary-eyed looks. “We’re having a kid, Bucky,” you finished.

He leaped forward, dropping the photo as he pulled you into a tight hug, laughing as the two of you cried and smiled. “We’re having a kid!” He couldn’t stop the goofy smile that lit up his features as you clung to each other. The rest of the team offered congratulations, smiling as Tony making sex jokes much to Steve’s annoyance. Bucky ignored him, holding you closer, smiling as you kissed and stayed attached to him. “I’m going to be a dad…” he murmured.

You smiled, nodding, “The best dad in the world,” you ran your hand through his shorter hair, burying yourself in his arms. “We’re going to start our own family.”

Home. Family. That’s where you were.

---

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#Bucky Barnes #vi1.5kmeaningschallenge #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x avenger!reader #My writing

[saiilorstars]

Princess

// Part 2  • Part 3 //

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female OC

Chapter Summary: Steve asks his new friend to help his best friend Bucky deal through all the memories Hydra has left behind in his head. It's just that Bucky doesn't see how she's going to be able to do that...

Warnings: Ridiculous fluff and humor, that’s about it!

A/N: This is just a simple one-shot of an OC I'm currently working on. This is technically the first time I write anything for Marvel so we'll see how this goes. I just really had this little thing stuck in my head so I thought I might as well do something productive with it! It also features the other OC I'm writing for as well, paired with...well, you'll see ;)

The only real warnings here are a totally confused Bucky and a slightly annoyed Steve :)).

"I don't want to," Chloe Winters said plain and flatly when she heard the 'grand' idea her friends Steve and Seren had come up with.

Seren wasn't all that surprised by the answer, but she felt for Steve who was hoping more than anything that Chloe would be able to help them out.

"Chloe, please," he started again. "Bucky really needs your help. I need your help. He's my friend, my best friend-" he gave Chloe a pointed look, reminding her she was in the same situation with Seren, "-and he could really use some of that Chloe peacefulness."

Chloe decided to nitpick what she had heard. "That's what we're calling it? Chloe peacefulness? I know we can come up with a better name than that."

"Chloe," Seren scolded. This was no time to play games nor be sarcastic, two things Chloe loved doing.

"It's what you made me feel when I first met you," Steve reminded her. God knows he was a mess in his early days after waking up in the modern world. Seren had brought in her friend, Chloe Winters, promising him that Chloe had some special abilities that would help him ease his conflicted mind. Being from the 40s, he wasn't so sure that people actually had super powers besides the serum that he had taken. But then came along Chloe who politely told him that she could indeed open his mind. She had told him that a part of her powers helped people feel like they had talked about everything bothering them without her actually listening to those words. He would basically be able to feel like he was talking about everything bothering him, all his deepest secrets and thoughts, but Chloe wouldn't be able to actually hear them, much less see the memories. Though skeptic about it, Steve had consented to the idea and saw Chloe a few times per week to help him divulge those feelings. Each time they were done, he really did feel like a wave of peacefulness had washed over him. And when he felt confident enough, he was finally able to speak those secrets and deep thoughts out loud.

He really felt like it was what Bucky needed right now. After years, and years, of god knows what Hydra put him up to, he needed that peacefulness. He just had to convince Chloe that he was no longer a threat. "He won't hurt you," he had just began to say when Chloe cut him off.

"Oh, I know that," she surprised him with. "He's not that messed up anymore but the reason I say 'no' is not for me...it's for him." She was met with the same puzzled faces from Steve and Seren. "He did a lot of stuff that I'm sure he wants none of us to know about. What makes you think he'll be comfortable letting me into his mind? Not to mention be real close to another person?" Steve admitted that those were some very good questions she was making and unfortunately she wasn't done. "He hasn't had real, consenting human contact since he fell off that train. I don't want to partake in anything that can trigger him." Chloe reached for Steve's head with her index fingers and thumbs to remind him what exactly she was supposed to do to make that 'peacefulness' happen. "You think he'll be okay with this?"

"He's been around us for a few weeks now…" Steve said, but the manner in which he had reasoned sounded more like he was going through the facts to see if he was really making the right call here.

Yes, Bucky had been around him and Seren, Chloe and the rest of the team but if he was being honest, no there hadn't been a lot of mutual contact. He was taking things slow, understandably, but it seemed like he was stuck (also understandably). It was why Steve decided to talk to Chloe in the first place. He didn't want Bucky to be stuck in that way. He needed to heal, he had a right to.

"I think that if it's just you, he'll be fine," Steve said after a long moment of thinking. He met Chloe's doubtful eyes and firmly nodded. "You can help him like you helped me."

"Difference being your mind wasn't warped…"

"Chloe," went Seren again, sighing. "Be sensitive here."

"I am," Chloe assured her with a roll of her eyes that didn't leave Seren so convinced. "Steve, if you're that sure, I guess I can try."

Steve was truly grateful when he left Chloe to go find his best friend and tell him about his idea. Seren was...unsure how this would go, but she trusted Chloe enough to be serious when the moment called for it and this moment screamed for it.

"Scared?" Chloe shot her a smirk when she assumed what Seren was thinking.

"A bit…"

"It won't last long," Chloe said, sounding a bit too certain for Seren's liking.

"Why?"

"Because I give Bucky one week before he tells me to get lost," Chloe shrugged, her smirk turning into a laugh.

Once again, Seren sighed. "Chloe!"

~0~

She was a princess.

She was the typical woman he used to date back in the old days.

Perfect tresses of blonde curls, shiny emerald eyes, and she even had the damn rosy tinge on her cheeks. Typical. She was a sharp dresser, never once did he see her in something casual (in his short time knowing her of course). Personality wise...she was hardly serious, always making a remark about everything, and she had a smirk that rarely left her face. She was an expert at making the signature 'adorable' faces complete with the untouchable pout, and a general lack of attention - she was hardly the candidate to help him heal.

'What is Steve thinking?' was the question that kept running through Bucky's head. That was the problem - he probably wasn't thinking. For all Bucky knew, Steve could've been persuaded by the redhead with dimples to give Chloe a chance. He noticed that was a pattern between her and Steve - she showed those dimples and Steve would do whatever she wanted, and he didn't even notice it! But who was he to say something about that? Steve wasn't the one who murdered countless people, Steve hadn't destroyed so many lives...no, that was him. He had to believe that there was something Steve saw in Chloe that could help him because right now, Bucky saw nothing. But right now he had no right to do nor say anything so he would let things go and see where they went.

The first day had him waiting for Chloe in one of the training rooms of the compound. He was nervous, yes he really was, and even more so when she finally arrived. With a clearing of her throat, she approached him and started explaining what would be happening. Unknowingly, he gave the same reaction as Steve had when he first heard what Chloe could do.

"You can really do that?"

"Yup," she nodded. "But I'm warning you, I need to touch you." She put her own fingers to her temple to show him exactly what it would be like. "Is that alright?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" He asked a bit too quickly, proving her point from before.

"Because the last time somebody touched you, it was to electrify you," she smiled sarcastically, only realizing later on that this would be a moment in which Seren would scold her for being too insensitive. "You want to go for it?"

"Just like that?"

"I don't see any point in delaying it. Unless you're not...?" Chloe quickly raised her hands in front of her, sending the message that she wouldn't hold it against him if he decided not to do this.

"No, let's do it." Truthfully, Bucky still had his doubts with her but he supposed he really did lose anything if he gave this a try. He motioned Chloe to show him how to start.

With a nod, she led him towards the only chairs in the room. She grabbed one for herself and waited for Bucky to do the same. He sat down and waited for her to give him the next instructions. A part of Chloe wondered if this was just something he was so used to that he did it without realizing. She scooted her chair closer to his then raised her hands to show him she would be touching him.

It did, admittedly, make Bucky slightly nervous. Or perhaps he was on edge. His mind was that scrambled he wasn't sure which one it was. His eyes were locked on Chloe's reaching fingers. Even before they reached him, he could see the perfectly styled nails. They were painted in a bright purple.

He flinched when her fingers touched his temples. Chloe said nothing about it. She was watching him cautiously, searching for any sign that he would push her away. He didn't.

"Just relax," she instructed him and it was such a novelty hearing those words. There would be no shocks, no torture, just a supposed peacefulness.

He sniffed. "What's that smell?"

Chloe arched an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"There's a smell like..."

"It's hair perfume. It's called Argan Oil of Morocco and I'd be glad to send it over since you said 'no' to the haircut."

Bucky leaned away from her on instinct. "Sorry, was that not to your liking?"

Chloe rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. "I don't care. What I care about is that you don't move anymore!"

With a light huff, Bucky resumed his position close to her. Once more she reached forwards and placed her fingers over his temples.

"I need you to lean closer," she said.

"More?"

"Yes! I told you this would be-"

"I don't need the lectures, just do it."

"Would it kill you to be a little nicer?" The look on Bucky's face told Chloe she had made a very poor choice of words. "Okay, that was my bad. Just...closer!"

Bucky didn't know how much closer they could get. Their legs were awkwardly around each other's in an attempt to give more room. The real answer came to him when Chloe pressed her forehead to his. She had closed her eyes; whether to avoid the awkwardness or because it was part of this insane process, he didn't know. What he did know was that whatever 'hair perfume' (whatever the hell that even was) she had on was really strong. It did smell nice, though.

"Focus," he flinched when Chloe spoke again. Things had gone dead silent around them that even when she had whispered to him, it was loud.

"On what?" He tried to whisper at the volume that their silence asked for.

"Whatever you want. You have the freedom now, you get to decide what you want to share." Chloe hoped that these words truly meant something for him. Freedom was something he hadn't had in a long, long time. "And remember, I won't actually hear nor see anything."

"Really?"

"I promise."

Though reluctant, Bucky agreed to try it. He would start with something small - if he could find something like that - just to test the waters. He closed his eyes and thought about something completely away from Hydra. It was a simple childhood memory that every child had: he'd fallen and gotten a scrape on his knee. "Did you see that?" He asked after a few minutes. He opened one eye to see Chloe smiling with her eyes still shut.

"No," she said like she had already explained it...and she had. "What was it?"

"Nothing," Bucky smiled for the first time when she made a noise of offence.

"Well fine, move onto the real stuff."

"Fine," he mimicked her tone and closed his eyes seconds before she opened hers to narrow them on him. The next time he really did focus on the things that were most prominent in his mind. He never realized how time passed by because each memory took a while. Chloe said nothing about the time; it was frankly the most silent she had been since he met her.

To his mighty surprise, when they finished he really did feel that peacefulness Steve promised would happen. It was the first time in a very long time that he could say he was relaxed. He wasn't sure how long it would last but he was just happy that it happened. He was happy. That was new.

"Thanks," he said quietly, his expression still deciding if he was actually feeling those nice, happy feelings he was promised.

Chloe got up from her chair and smiled proudly. "Don't sound too unsure." At her words, he looked up at her. "It's okay, you didn't think I could actually help. Most people think I'm an idiot when they first meet me."

"I didn't..."

"Yeah you did," Chloe said so plainly and resigned that it momentarily took away that peacefulness she had given him. "Last week you gave me that look that everyone always gives me when I make a first impression on them. I'm very bad at them and usually it all ends up in the same way. I fall under the stereotype of a 'pretty blonde' who has all the beauty but no brains, so...I've learned to live with it," she shrugged. "I just care what people think about me after they get to know me. Maybe you can do that later on."

Bucky watched her turn to leave. Dammit. His track record for messing up was already massive and now he had something new to add to it. Great.

Lucky for him, Chloe kept true to her word and continued to help him out. She was very punctual and very serious throughout each session. It was a stark difference from how she acted outside the sessions. It was rather amusing having to explain to Steve's dimpled-friend - he may have appropriated a few nicknames without their knoweldge - that Chloe was helping him and not making sarcastic remarks. Dimples couldn't believe it.

"You don't have to lie to me because she's my friend," Seren assured him just in case he was having trouble speaking the truth. "Chloe has the tendency to mess around at the wrong times."

"I'm not lying," Bucky assured her. "She's doing a lot for me."

And speaking of the good helper, she was coming into the room with Steve and Sam hot on her trail. Well, it looked more like Sam was right behind her and Steve was trying to break whatever was going on.

"I refuse to go to that place," Chloe said flatly before spinning to face Sam. "It's all dirty and, not to mention, it has horrible customer service."

"I just need you for 5 minutes," Sam was saying, sounding like he was begging. "Five minutes so you can distract the brother and I can talk to his sister."

"Guys..." Steve sighed, shutting his eyes.

"What the hell am I? Your wing-man?" Chloe arched an eyebrow at Sam.

"Actually, I believe it's wing woman-"

"Shut up," she commanded so easily and swiftly it sounded like she was in charge of the whole place. What was more amusing to Bucky was that everyone actually listened to her.

"What is going on?" Seren dreaded to ask the trio.

"Sam wants me to distract the brother of this girl he's been trying to talk to at that little restaurant he likes going to," Chloe folded her arms.

"I just need her little angel face for 5 minutes!" Sam exclaimed. "That's what the brother says about her anyways."

Chloe's face fell flat at the chosen 'compliment'. "What am I? A doll?"

"Yes! But, you know, in an endearing way?"

Chloe looked at Seren and Bucky with an incredulous expression on her face. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You're a wing-woman-" Sam tried to add but Chloe was done with him.

"Shut up!"

Steve shook his head at the two an decided to leave the pair's side. "Seren..."

"Guys," Seren clapped her hands to get the two's attention. "Seriously? Fighting over this?"

"She's my only hope," Sam argued like it was the best defense he had, the most logical one too. "She's the only one who can do it."

"No one else is willing to step up for the job?" Bucky had asked, surprising the others in the process. He didn't really partake in conversations and since he was doing it, no one would say anything about.

Sam started listing off his fingers to answer the question. "Natasha scares him, Wanda said a flatout 'no' and we all know Seren can't do it."

"Hey," Seren said with offence. "Why can't I?"

Sam said nothing but Bucky watched as he and Chloe's eyes flickered over to Steve. His best friend's face had suddenly gained a deep frown. The idea was not very well received apparently. Of course, Bucky inwardly rolled his eyes. Dimples. But she was none the wiser about it.

Sam saved Steve the torture by telling Seren, "You just can't."

Seren pouted. Bucky noted that, while still looking pretty, it wasn't the same like the one that Chloe sported.

"This is stupid," Chloe huffed. "I'm not doing it," she told Sam with a pointed look. He was to never ask that from her again.

"You are a bad friend," Sam frowned.

"I think I'm a good friend." Chloe happily corrected him and patted his cheek. "You can do better anyways - she's so rude." She started listing off the specific reasons why said rude girl wasn't the one for Sam. She would've gone on for longer had Seren not cut her off with the suggestion that she should put her time into better use by helping Bucky for the day. It definitely sounded a lot better than arguing with Sam.

The last thing Bucky and Chloe heard as they left the room together was Seren once again asking Sam why she hadn't been considered to help be this 'wing-woman' of his.

"Watch out, Steve might blow a fuse or something," Chloe laughed lightly.

Bucky laughed with her. "Yeah, Dimples got to him."

"Dimples?" Chloe sent him a bemused glance. "You gave Seren a nickname?"

"I technically gave everyone one in the beginning. My memory's not that good with names."

"Ah, so Seren is 'Dimples', what's Sam's?"

Bucky knew she specifically asked that first because of the tetchy relationship he had with the para-rescuer. "Nothing nice."

"Well I know that, but what is it?"

"...Silly-Putty-Sam."

Chloe came to an abrupt stop. "Hold on - what!?" She turned to him completely, expecting a full explanation for that chosen name. "Why on Earth is he called that?"

"Because I can and will squeeze him if he continues to annoy me," Bucky said with an all serious face.

"Aah," Chloe nodded, "That's clever. And a bit scary, not gonna lie. So...what's mine?"

"Huh?"

"Mine! What's my nickname? I really don't care if it's mean too. I've had my own nicknames for the others when they piss me off."

"I...haven't really thought of one." Bucky wasn't sure why he just lied. He most certainly had thought of one for her right from the start. She was an utter princess.

"Really?"

"Yeah..."

Lie!

"Aw," Chloe pouted. "Why?"

"Don't know..."

Stop lying! Bucky really wished he could stop lying but he didn't even know why he was lying in the first place. Was it about guilt? If it was about guilt, you wouldn't have given Sam his nickname.

Chloe left the topic alone once they reached their usual session room. It wasn't that big of a deal...to her. Bucky was still trying to figure out where the hell those lies came from and it certainly showed in his session with her. His thoughts were a bit more frazzled than normal. Chloe noticed it once or twice but she presumed it was just because the memories weren't that nice.

Still, as days continued to pass by, their sessions started to become a little less silent. They were still serious - how could they not be given the types of memories that crowded Bucky's mind? - but there was a different atmosphere around them, between them. Because Bucky still wouldn't give up his nickname to her, whether out of guilt or some other reason, he started to take more notice of her beyond the princess aspects.

She still had the necessity to make comments about everything, but some of them were actually funny. At the very least they were amusing and God knew that he could use some amusement in his life. The best part was that a lot of her comments were directed at Sam and she was good at them. She was incredibly intelligent and he dared to say it wasn't solely because of that Hive Mind she was a part of. No, she was smart all on her own. She gave Stark a run for his money sometimes.

And perhaps one of the things he was most aware of was how nice she smelled. It was ridiculous to pay attention to such a detail but it was just so prominent. Maybe it was because how close they always were during his sessions but the fact was that Chloe Winters smelled like a sweet flowers. Violets? Orchids? Lilies? All of them. She smelled like all of them. Couple that with that stupid Moroccan hair perfume of hers and...

Oh God he needed to stop. Each session gave him the chance to think up something new about her, whether it was how she dressed or a new quirk he found...he thought of it. It came to the point that his thoughts began to shift towards her instead of the usual Hydra things stuffed in his head.

"You're not focusing," Chloe's sudden comment startled him and she noticed. With a chuckle, she leaned away from him, revealing bemused eyes. Sparkly eyes, mind you. "Did I seriously just startle you?"

"Be quiet," was the first thing that came to Bucky's mind and, unfortunately, out loud. Chloe merely rolled her eyes in response. "I have a lot on my mind."

"Clearly," she muttered. "That's kinda why I'm here, genius. I'm supposed to help you sort those thoughts out."

"Somehow I don't think you'll be able to do that." Truer words had never been spoken.

"What?" She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Are you doubting my talents again? I can help, you know. Come here," she made a motion for him to assume the usual position. She scooted her chair closer to his and leaned her head towards him.

Bucky didn't move. He was actually wanting to lean back.

"C'mon!" Chloe exclaimed. "I'm not afraid to pull you!"

"Not like you could," he countered, immediately making a frown cross her face.

"What was that?" Ah, there went the eyebrow again.

"Nothing," he mumbled. He had to get a grip or something.

"Seriously, c'mon," she motioned him to lean forwards.

With a sigh, Bucky listened. He pressed his forehead against hers. He soon started wondering if he'd always been able to feel her breath against him? His thoughts were momentarily interrupted when Chloe's fingers touched his skin. Were they tracing his temples?

"Focus," Chloe instructed him.

"Right," he agreed, or rather tried to agree with her. Where did all of this come from!? He wasn't like this, not at all, not even before everything happened.

"You're not focusing."

Bucky opened his eyes to find Chloe's staring right at him. "I'm not?" He asked, unusually quiet.

"No," she said, just as quiet as he had. She was trying to figure out on her own what was wrong with him today. Sure there were things that would clearly affect his mood when these sessions happened but she felt like there was something extra today. It worried her, actually. Why wasn't she able to help this time? She could fail at a lot of things but not this. It was too important to get it wrong. "Hey, seriously, what's wrong? I want to help you."

"I don't think you can..." Bucky said slowly as if he was just realizing this, and maybe he was. Unfortunately with little context to those words, Chloe misunderstood him.

"Oh. You don't think I'm capable of doing it."

"No, that's not i-"

"I get it. Believe me, it's not the first time. I swear I'm capable of many things. Plus, I know a thing or two about having your mind invaded." Chloe offered him a warm smile. "I have so many things going on in my head, you might as well chalk me up as insane."

"You're not insane," Bucky shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted her to get from this awkward moment. "And you've been helping me a lot, trust me."

"I do," she said with a significant look in her eyes. It was hard knowing that most people couldn't trust him because he himself couldn't trust himself not to hurt someone. She knew that and she wanted him - needed him - to know that she wasn't part of 'most people'. Oh, need? That's weird. She cleared her throat, ignoring the light warmth on her face. "Listen, we don't have to do this today. We can pick up tomorrow. Sound good?"

"Yes," Bucky quickly said. Maybe by tomorrow he could get himself under control. Yes, yes, yes, he could. He could do that.

"Alright." Chloe pushed her chair away and got up. "Oh, maybe you can use this spare time to come up with a nickname for me! You know I've been waiting for one."

"Right," Bucky mumbled. He was terrible even at that because he couldn't give her another name. Princess had somehow, at some point, shifted from a superficial name to a more...endearing one. It was hard to admit it but it was the truth. "Dammit."

He really hated Steve right now. Out of everyone he had to have Chloe be the one to help him. He got the princess and now it seemed like she had him.

Author's Note:

Okay so I'm not sure if I should add a small part 2. I'll probably think about it. But thanks for the read!

#ocappreciation #mcu #dailyreblogs #marvel #marvel imagines #bucky barnes inagines #avengers imagines