#Rhodey One Shot

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Love me back to life - Part 1

A/N: We all knew this was coming! Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story :))

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ angst but a little hurt comfort as well. Tony’s kind of an asshole in this one, the relationship isn’t exactly healthy.

Word count: 1.9k

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

He was late.

Again.

Tony had missed dinner for the fifth time in a row now, not that you were counting. It had been over fifteen hours since you last saw the man, not that you were counting. And it had been over two weeks since you had had sex with him, but not that you were counting.

Tony Stark - the man, the myth, the legend. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. The best if not most popular Avenger in the entire world. A man with more enemies than friends. Also, your fiance. But you were unsure about the last bit.

He had proposed six months ago in a room full of disquisitive journalists that went ballistic at the announcement. A glittery rock that easily cost more than your apartment sat on your finger, for the world to see you were his.

Of course, that didn’t stop dumb, heavy-chested women to throw themselves at him at social events. You were privy to it all, because you had faith in him that he didn’t have eyes for anybody else. At least you knew that in the past. Now though, you weren’t so sure. It had become somewhat of a ritual for the two of you to enter a party hand in hand and go your separate ways.

He would be the center of attention, obviously, enjoying every bit of the adulation he got while you would find a deserted corner for yourself and your beloved glass of wine. By the time the night ended, or rather morning, Tony would be drunk off his ass or passed out with a random blonde drooling nearby. You would have Happy Hogan to help get him home, where he’d disappear in his lab once he regained consciousness.

Never in your life did you think you’d be jealous of a goddamn laboratory. The room who got to see Tony every single day, for the longest time, sometimes for days on end. His safe space that you once thought you were.

You did everything in your might to be there for him, it took effort and sacrifices on your part, but Tony was worth it all. He had managed to crawl his way into your heart and carve a space meant just for him, with no room for a third. You loved him with every last cell in your body, you did. You just wish he could see that, and even if he could see it, you wished he could care enough to let you know your efforts weren’t fruitless.

Yet another expensive bottle of wine sat in the ice bucket, the food you’d ordered from his favorite restaurant now cold, the velvety red dress you’d purchased just for him now hung on your frame unappreciated. Your mood plummeted with every glass of wine you finished, watching the hours tick by.

“FRIDAY, where is he?” you sighed, asking the AI who’d become your informant and best friend, as sad as that was.

In the lab, Miss. Do you want me to remind him again?

Her crisp voice sounded through the walls, almost sympathetic to your state.

“No. Don’t bother him. Wouldn’t make much of a difference anyway.” you murmured, swallowing the last bit of disappointment before getting up and heading to your room.

In the shower, you had let the tears flow and mix with the water that cascaded down your body, mind exhausted from the constant heartbreak. You knew that the only thing waiting for you outside that door was the giant, empty bed that had the last traces of Tony on them.

.

You had woken up with a stinging headache the next day, a futile glance to your left let you know Tony hadn’t made it to bed last night. It wasn’t uncommon. The occurrence had just multiplied over the last few months.

If you were keeping track, and you were, it had been over two days since Tony had slept, FRIDAY corroborated your suspicions as well.

You got dressed and headed downstairs to his lab, a blast of cold air sent chills down your spine as you entered.

There he was.

Surrounded by screens emitting a glowing blue light, mouth mumbling something incoherent to your non-science based mind, fingers trembling as he moved about the space, drawing your attention to the numerous empty cups of coffee that lay strewn. His eyes weren’t focusing on his task at hand, his stats reflected in red, flashing before you and letting you know his heart rate was way over normal.

“Tony.” you called softly, waiting for him to turn around and see you. You repeated yourself when he did not, placing a hand on his back only for him to jump and be startled at the touch.

“Hey! It’s only me.”

He seemed to relax instantly once he saw you, you however grew worried at his appearance. Eyes that looked beyond tired, bags under them concerning, his whole body language screamed exhaustion.

“FRIDAY, shut this thing off.” you mumbled, taking Tony by his hand to the couch that sat near the wall to your right. You were glad he didn’t protest, and borderline worried if he had the energy left to do so.

He didn’t.

You handed him water, watching him flinch at first probably realizing it wasn’t coffee before finishing it in one go. He grabbed your wrist before you could turn around again, looking up at you desperately, his brown orbs yelling a silent cry of help.

What broke your heart is that it wasn’t the first time this had happened.

“Tony, you have to eat something.”

“No.”

He pulled you down next to him, planting his head in your lap while his arms wound around your middle, hugging you like his life depended on it, which it was. His breathing evened out as sleep finally took over almost instantly. You sighed, leaning back against the plush sofa, your fingers found their way in Tony’s hair, carding through them while your eyes brimmed with tears.

“I’d like to not die of this cold, FRI.” you closed your eyes, letting a few stray tears escape as everything around you returned to homeostasis, even if internally things were radically different.

.

“When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep, Y/N?”

Rhodey’s voice pulled your attention away from the paintings you were sifting through. A major chunk of Tony Stark’s fan following were kids, who sent him drawings of Iron Man swooping in to save the day. They always put a smile on your face, watching their faces light up with joy every time he waved at them, signed their drawings, picked one of the kids up for a pose.

“I’m pretty sure that question was meant for that crazy genius of a man signing autographs over there.”

You pointed to Tony at the far end of the restaurant you were at, clicking pictures with a bunch of teenagers who were gushing over him, signing their posters and entertaining them with his stories.

“And to answer your question, it’s been the same amount of time since he had a good night’s sleep.” you sighed, leaning back against your chair, sipping on your drink, avoiding Rhodey’s eyes.

It worried him greatly watching his two friends struggle, watching their health deteriorate in front of his eyes was heartbreaking.

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“By all means, knock yourself out, Rhodes.” You chuckled, knowing fully well how that interaction was gonna go. You had been there and done that. It was falling on deaf ears.

There was a commotion which caught your eye. Tony Stark stumbled out of the restaurant clutching a hand over his heart.

Panic set in as you both followed him out, pushing people out of the way as they gathered with their phones out, capturing every moment.

You saw him step into his suit, the metal closing in around the man like a second skin before he knelt on the road in distress.

“Check the heart, Jarvis. Is it—is it the brain?” Tony took in a deep breath, trying everything in his might to find the source of his current state.

No sign of cardiac anomaly or unusual brain activity, Sir.

Jarvis spoke in his crystal clear voice, the suit display showing him stats that everything was normal.

“Okay, was I poisoned then?”

My diagnosis is that you’ve experienced a severe anxiety attack.

Tony’s eyes went wide in realization, he couldn’t believe it. His heart hammered against his ribcage, his breath still labored but he was okay. It was just an anxiety attack. It could be handled.

The chatter of people around bothered him and before you or Rhodey could utter a word, he took off, zooming off into the sky, homebound.

Rhodey wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze as you closed your eyes and sighed.

“That idiot needs an intervention and damn it, he’s gonna get one. Don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll bring him back.”

.

Rhodey wasted no time in storming into his lab, catching the Avenger sitting still in the Ford Model B who looked mildly irked when his music was turned off.

“I’ve got to change the combination of the doors.” He muttered.

“Yeah, you probably should so nobody would find you dead in this lab.” Rhodey glared at the man who was avoiding his eyes, fiddling around with a screwdriver, his fingers trembling.

“Seriously Tony, what have you done to yourself?” He asked, his voice softer this time.

Tony’s eyes had sunken since the last time he saw him, his face distraught. All signs of PTSD visible in his demeanor.

“You need to accept the fact that you’re not okay, Tony. You need help. And sleep. And food—”

“And Y/N.”

Rhodey stopped mid-sentence at his admission, giving his shoulder a squeeze as Tony’s brown eyes glistened, finally looking up at his oldest friend.

“Oh I’m glad you still remember her.”

“She’ll save me. She always has.” Tony murmured mostly to himself, leaning back against the car seat.

“She’ll save you alright. But what about her? What about the relationship? There won’t be a relationship to save if you keep this up, Stark. That woman has done more for you than you could possibly imagine. You’re killing yourself and you’re taking her with you.”

Tony’s heart dropped to his stomach at Rhodey’s words. He was right.

You were there for the man since the world got to know he was Iron Man. After Obadiah Stane almost killed him, after Ivan Vanko, after he fell through the wormhole. It was you who kept him alive somehow. You had been there for him.

Always.

He, on the other hand, had always taken advantage of that. He had been a terrible boyfriend and a fiance, hell, he had been an awful human being these past few months.

It was almost surprising that you hadn’t left him yet. However, by the way your appearances in his lab had seemingly reduced, he was sure you were close to giving up. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. You didn’t deserve this treatment.

You deserved better.

Find Part 2 here :)

#tony stark x reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark angst #tony stark fluff #tony stark imagine #tony stark one shot #tony stark fic #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #marvel fanfiction #rhodey #tony stark #the stark squad #iron man fanfiction #iron man x reader #iron man

[moritashie]

I HAVE A FIC IDEA vol #5

• Tony and Peter start spending some time together after the events of Homecoming. Sometimes Tony would invite Peter over to the compound to tinker in the lab, other times he would join Spider-Man on some mission a little over the teen's level.

∘ While these meetings become something more frequent, they always end up doing something that requires his influence, is connected with a lot of public, his status as a superhero etc.

• Gradually, Tony finds himself spending more and more time checking in on the kid, whether it is through the baby monitor protocol, talking with May or the kid himself.

∘ Rhodey points that fact out one time they decide to have a drink at a bar together, joking about Tony becoming quite parental when it comes to Peter, and that leads Tony to the realization that he does in fact view Peter as his kid.

∘ At the same time he realizes that Peter must feel nowhere near the way he does. To the hero-worshipping kid he must only the "OMG it's freaking Ironman!", and he figures out that he is quite bothered by that fact. He has to change it.

• Tony devises a special plan to do as many awesome (read: fatherly) things with Peter as possible, to distance himself from the media image of Tony Stark.

FOR EXAMPLE (but doesn't have to be any of these)

∘ Building a tree-house together

∘ Teaching Peter how to make Italian pasta

∘ Going camping with him and Rhodey

∘ Organizing a Movie night with snacks

∘ Telling Peter some more casual/wild stories from his youth, (ones that Peter could relate to)

#rhodey could be Tony's wingman in this #i have checked out “WikiHow” just to get some ideas for what these two could do LMHO #This could become a one-shot SO easily #also. Peter probably does feel similarily about Tony but what do I know #there is a lot of potential in there #peter parker #iron dad #spider son #marvel #spiderman #marvel art #irondad and spiderson #spiderman fanart #irondad fanfiction #irondad fluff #marvel fanfiction #spider man #marvel mcu

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ~ 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎) 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝐂𝐈𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟻.𝟾𝚔

italics = flashbacks / memories

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞. 𝐈𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞.

~ 𝙘𝙞𝙧𝙘𝙪𝙢𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨

To say you were panicking would be the understatement of the century. You’d done it. You’d finally dumped your piece of shit boyfriend ex-boyfriend. But now, reality had set in. And with reality came… that panic. It wasn’t a well thought out plan to begin with, but you knew you couldn’t stay in the relationship any longer. Especially after the events from the past week, you knew you had to leave.

Things hadn’t gone exactly as you’d expected them to though, and that was where you were unsure of what to do.

When you told John that you were breaking up with him, he just laughed. Then after a few seconds, he got angry.

Shoving you up against a wall, he leaned in so your faces were only inches apart.

“You’re nothing without me,” he sneered, “you’re not going anywhere.”

“You don’t get to—”

As you tried to stand up for yourself, he simply laughed. Though there was no humor in his tone. “I don’t think so. You’re too pathetic to leave. Now clean this fucking place up.”

After that, he’d gone back into the bedroom, got dressed for work, then stormed out of the apartment without another word.

Forcing those moments from your mind, you begin pacing around. And after less than a minute, you begin to overthink. You knew what John expected to happen. Since he’d ‘put you in your place’, he assumed that you’d just do what you normally did at home. And since he’d be gone for a couple of days for a business trip, he’d expect the place to be spotless and for dinner to be on the table whenever he did get home.

10 minutes later, you remained in the same spot, sat on the couch with your knees pulled up towards your chest.

“Guess I should get packing,” you finally mumbled to yourself. Brushing the nonexistent dust from your pants, you made your way to the bedroom and pulled a suitcase out from under the bed. As you mindlessly folded clothes and began arranging them inside, you think back on your relationship with John Walker.

In the beginning, he had you believing that he was genuinely a good guy, and that he loved you. He always said exactly the right things, and in that honeymoon stage, you never argued. He was sweet, planned the most romantic dates, basically, he swept you off your feet.

Just 6 months into the relationship, you made the mistake of saying yes when he asked you to move with him to California. His job offered him the chance to relocate for much higher pay, and he instantly accepted. It made you sad that he hadn’t even thought to mention it to you until it was already a done deal, but you brightened up when he asked you to go with him. He filled your head with how great it would be and all of the adventures you guys would get to have. You were so smitten, you hadn’t even considered saying no.

Yelena, Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Kate all warned you against the idea. Some said that 6 months was waaay too soon, while others said just stay in New York and try long distance.

Even with all of them, none were more against the idea than your best friend.

Pietro had quickly come to think of you as a sister since you met when you were kids, and if asked, he’d say you were one of his favorite people without hesitation. Though you often bickered like siblings, the love was clear.

The one area where you and Pietro disagreed, was your relationship with John. From the beginning, Pietro was the first to think that something was off. Maybe it was the way that John seemed just a little too controlling, but then he’d see the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about him. And he loved you, so whatever you’d decided, he said you’d have his full support if you ever needed anyone.

The first major red flag was that John not only insisted that you both fly to California, but that he also completely disregarded your fear of planes. But you brushed all of those concerns aside, telling yourself that he must just be so excited to get to California and start that new chapter of your life together.

Once there, John slowly began to change. Within a month, you barely recognized the man you lived with. He’d talk down to you, insulting you while constantly reminding you that you were absolutely nothing without him. It was only the 2 of you, and you’d better not fuck things up or you’ll have nowhere to go and no one to turn to out there.

Around everyone else, and whenever you were on the phone with friends, he was still the caring man that you first fell for. He put on a good show when others were watching or listening. It was those moments that you clung to. It was why you convinced yourself to stay, because you hoped that he’d turn back into the man you once loved.

Finally, after 6 months in California, and right around your 1 year dating anniversary, you reached your breaking point. After an incident that you now couldn’t even begin to think about, you knew you couldn’t keep living like this. You knew that if you did, you might not be alive much longer.

But what were your options? John was right, out in California you only had him. And though you suspected that your friends never really liked John, you’d done your best to hide his true colors, and you felt scared to tell them everything, including Pietro.

“Fuck,” you wiped away a tear. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been crying.

As if able to sense that you needed someone (because he always seemed to know. You swore it was his superpower), your cell phone rang. You knew without looking that it was Pietro calling to check in. Everyone else mostly communicated through text. Well, Steve was a bit old fashioned and preferred calling over texting too, but he always text you first to make sure you weren’t busy.

“Hi,” you tried your best to put on a happy voice. “How’d the big meeting with Fury go?”

“What’s wrong?”

“— nothing. I just asked how your meeting went.”

Pietro sighed, and you could hear him shutting a door. Glancing at the time, you realized that he’d be at work right now. “Okay, now do you want to tell me the truth this time?”

That once sentence was pretty much all it took for you to finally let your tears fall. “I— I finally did it,” you whispered, laughing a little despite the severity of the situation. “I broke up with John. Or, I tried to anyway.”

“Tried to? Printesa, did he do something??”

You can’t help but smile at the old nickname. What started out as a cruel joke with Pietro calling you printesa (“princess” in Romanian) because you were always used to getting your way as a child, turned into a term of endearment over the years. You bit your lip as you contemplated telling him everything that was really going on. He has always had a temper when it came to anyone messing with you.

Once in high school, a boy lied about a date and said that he'd taken your virginity that night, when in fact all you’d done was kiss once. He showed up at school 2 days later with his arm in a sling, and he'd walked up to you, mumbling an apology before practically running in the opposite direction.

It was no secret who'd done that to him. It was no secret, because Pietro admitted it, saying the guy only got what he deserved.

"N—not physically," you decided you’d tell him that it was a lie much later, once you were back in New York. "I just couldn't take it anymore. He's at work now and I'm trying to pack up my shit but it's hard because I don't even know what to take. I left behind so much in New York and I honestly can't remember what I bought, and what was bought with John's money."

"I'm gonna kill that motherfu—"

"Pietro, no, please. You don't ever need to do something like that for me. I'll be okay, I just... I have to figure out what to do with all of this stuff and then I'll find a way back to New York."

Pietro is suddenly pissed that he flew to Tokyo to take a meeting with Nick Fury. Despite your protests, he says that he’s cancelling the meeting with him tomorrow and coming straight home.

After nearly 5 minutes of convincing, he finally agrees to not cancel anything, but says that as soon as you’re back in New York he’s coming home to see you.

Once you’re sure he isn’t going to drop everything to help you, he quickly runs through the list of your friends, seeing who might be able to come and help you. Nat and Yelena are in Russia visiting their dad, and you have to beg him not to tell them just yet. Wanda and Vision are out of the question because Wanda is nearing her due date, and shouldn’t be by herself for more than a day when the twins could come at any moment.

Peter is an option, but you shut that down. Despite only being a few years younger and now obviously an adult, you still think of the shy awkward teenager that he was when you first met.

There were the other 2 Peter’s in California, who also oddly had the same last name as your Peter. You’d met the second one when out for groceries one day, and so you jokingly referred to him as Peter #2. And one day while John was thankfully out (because he would’ve freaked), the man you dubbed Peter #3 entered your apartment. He was so focused on his book that he entered the wrong apartment. His was next door, and he also often kept his door unlocked.

Despite Peter #3 seeming like the best option, you still said no. You didn’t know him all that well, and couldn’t drag him into your mess when after it was all done, he’d still be living across from John. If Peter helped you and John ever found out, you didn’t even want to think about what he’d do.

“I could call To—”

“No. He wouldn’t want to hear from me anyway. And I’ll be okay, I promise. I already feel so much better after venting and confirming that this is the right decision. I’ll find a way back to New York. Maybe rent an SUV since I don’t have enough stuff to fill a moving truck and—”

“Hey, you know this is a different situation. If he knew— okay, look, do you trust me?”

“You know I do,” you respond without hesitation.

Pietro pauses for a moment before speaking again. “I’ll call you back in a few minutes. I’m going to make some arrangements, and no I won’t tell you what they are just yet. But trust me, this will get you out of there as fast as possible. Okay?”

You close your eyes for a few seconds, “okay”.

After reassuring you that everything will be okay in the end, Pietro hangs up after telling you he’s going to make a phone call, then call you back as soon as everything is set up.

Not wanting to just sit around and wait for his call, you decide to pack the rest of your things. It doesn’t take very long, because you meant it when you said that most of your belongings were probably bought by John, and you really couldn’t remember anyway.

Not wanting to give John another reason to hunt you down when he discovers you’ve really left, in the end, most things are left behind.

2 packed suitcases and a hot shower later, you finally begin to calm down. Most of the fear and nerves are still there, but you feel just a little bit better than you did when John first stormed out.

Realizing your exhaustion is causing your mood to worsen, you decide on a quick nap. But also realizing that Pietro could call you back at any moment, you send a quick text saying you’ll be asleep, but you have your phone on loud under your pillow so he can call you if anything happens.

That quick nap turned out to be longer than planned, because it’s over 2 hours later that you’re woken up to a series of loud, sharp knocks at the door. You instantly grow scared, but calm once you realize it can’t be John, because he’d never knock.

Rubbing your eyes in an attempt to feel more awake, you slowly make your way to the door. You look through the peephole, and your eyes widen in shock. When you open the door, you’re face to face with Tony Stark for the first time in over a year.

He remains silent, simply pulling you in for a hug. That gesture causes you to burst into tears all over again, and this time, not just because of everything happening with John.

Almost exactly a year ago, Steve and Tony had a big falling out, and your whole friend group was unwillingly dragged into it. You and Steve had always been close, so it came as a surprise to no one when you were on his side. But that didn’t stop Tony from lashing out and cutting contact with anyone who was “against him”, as he put it back then.

It only just now dawns on you that he must be Pietro’s plan, and it means the world that he’s there.

You hug him even tighter, trying to force yourself to stop crying. As you stutter your way through an apology, Tony rubs small circles on your back, telling you that you don’t have anything to be sorry for, and that you don’t have to talk about all of that right now.

“Do you — are you living in California now?”

Tony shakes his head, telling you that he’s still mainly in New York. “I’m just here on business. I was already on the jet back to New York when Pietro called, so I had the pilot turn around.”

“Alright motherfuckers, I’m ready to commit a crime and that crime is murder!” Rhodey barges in, looking around as he swings a sword.

“Where did you get that?!” You ask, unable to hide your surprise and confusion, and at the same time Tony asks if Rhodey really grabbed that from the trunk and that’s why he took so long.

When asked if he really had that just laying around in his trunk, Tony shrugs.

“Were you going to stab John with that?” You ask.

He looks down at the sword for a moment, as if genuinely thinking about it. “No. Just off with his head.” He does a slicing motion before gently setting the sword down.

“What, umm — what exactly did Pietro tell you?”

“Not much, understandably. But the gist of it is that John is going to be out of town for a couple of days so,” he glances down at his watch, “we gotta get this show on the road! How much do you have left to pack?”

You could feel the shame coming off of you in waves. “I… that’s everything,” you meekly point to your suitcases.

“Oh, well that’s okay!” Tony quickly recovers, “now we can just get out of here.”

“Umm, can you guys wait just a few minutes? There’s something I need to do first.” Once both men nod, you rush to John’s office, grabbing a small stack of papers, and begin to quickly write. After it’s done, you neatly stack the pages and go to the kitchen, using a magnet to stick them to the fridge. The first thing John always does when he gets home is have a beer, so you know he’ll see the letter right away.

[ the letter :

John,

I’m sorry. I’m too much of a coward to do this goodbye in person. I tried that, and you wouldn’t let me leave. Despite all that has happened, I still do have love for you. You helped me out of my shell, brought me to California and you showed me a love in the beginning that I never thought possible. Even back in New York, some of those moments with you were the happiest of my life. But part of me wishes that we never left New York. Things were perfect there. I fell for you the moment we first met. And for a while, everything was so good. But now you’re someone that I do not recognize. You’re no longer the kind, sweet man I once knew. Now when you look at me, all I feel is your anger. I am genuinely terrified of you. I can’t spend the rest of my life in fear that anything I say could piss you off. When you’re angry, I’m always sure you’re going to hit me again. I can’t keep living like this, looking at the man I was once in love with and then wondering what I did to make you become this monster. I will cherish the good memories we have, and I will always be grateful for them. But this has to be goodbye. I’ve left the phone, laptop, and anything else that you’ve purchased for me. I don’t want or expect anything. I just had to leave. Take care of yourself.

As Tony wheels a suitcase towards the SUV, Rhodey pauses before the 2 of you follow him.

“I know it might be hard to leave behind, but if you think there’s even a chance that he’ll track you, you should leave your phone and any other technology. I think to be safe—” he trails off, seeing that you’re already removing your laptop, phone, and AirPods from your backpack.

“That’s everything.”

Only a few minutes later, you’re all on the way to Tony and Pepper’s home that’s there in California. You want to ask a million questions, but don’t even know where to begin, so you remain silent.

“You okay kid?”

You look up and make eye contact with Tony through the rearview mirror. “I’m just… I can’t believe this is happening. A year ago I would’ve never even thought about leaving John. Then six months ago when we moved and I started to see the sort of person he really is, I still didn’t think I’d ever be able to leave.”

Since being in the back seat, you don’t see Tony’s knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. He has half a mind to go find John right now and make sure that he doesn’t bother you, or anyone else ever again. But right now, he knows the priority is making sure you feel and stay safe, so he silently tells himself that he’ll make sure John is dealt with another time.

You finally allow yourself to feel calm, for the first time in a one time, once Tony uses a remote to open the gate that leads down his driveway. Just knowing John wouldn’t be able to get to you here makes it a little bit better.

Once they’re parked and Tony and Rhodey have exited the vehicle, you follow, and find yourself in awe as you look around the property. The last time you were here, before any arguments happened, Tony had yet to start any sort of transformation, and the place looks entirely different now.

“Now bad huh?” Tony turns to face you and spreads his arms out, as if to say ‘look at all of this’.

“Tony, thank you,” you’re relieved when the tears don’t start again. “I don’t know now how I can ever repay you for—”

Tony shakes his head, saying you don’t need to thank him, and this is the least he can do. “We didn’t speak for about a year because I was so stubborn that I couldn’t see you were only doing what you thought was right. I should’ve never expected anyone to just take sides. Rogers and I talked, and we both had no right to expect that from any of you, and also shouldn’t have gotten upset when people actually listened and did choose sides. You were dragged into our mess, and for that I’m sorry.”

You both end up talking for a while, Tony updating you on everything going on in his life, and you’re immensely grateful for the distraction.

“Now I know you’re worried about getting back to New York. But don’t worry, there’s no flying involved. Since I am my own boss, the two of us are going to take our time driving and by the time we’re back in New York, you’ll have forgotten all about he who I can’t name or I might actually throw up.”

As he opens his mouth to say something else, his phone rings. Despite sending it to voicemail, it immediately begins ringing again. “Sorry, I should probably take this incase it’s an emergency—” Once you reassure him that you’re okay, he steps out to take the call.

You do your best to not eavesdrop, but after a few moments you can’t help but hear Tony arguing with whoever he’s talking to. It’s not loud enough to hear specifics like what’s being said, but it’s clear that he’s upset. Creeping towards the door, you manage to hear “I don’t care. Tell them to move it or just cancel it altogether! I — no, I don’t need to explain why to anyone. I’m busy tomorrow and for the foreseeable future.” There’s a short pause, and then “well then tell him to call me and I can yell at him myself!”

Now you feel even more guilty, knowing Tony is cancelling work all because you’re afraid to get on an airplane.

After wrapping up his call, he enters the house and is immediately met with you asking what he just cancelled. Though he pretends to now know what you’re referring to, it’s clear that you know he’s lying.

“It was nothing important. And nothing that can’t be arranged for later. Even if it can’t, something better will come along eventually.”

“If it’s not important, why can’t you just tell me?”

“I — you remember that prick I told you about, Ransom? He wanted to finally set up a meeting and —”

“Anthony! Edward! Stark!” You smack him after each part of his name. “You have been trying to get an in with the Drysdale Corporation for years. If you don’t call back and tell whoever that was that the plans are back on, I’m getting the information from your dad and going to the meeting myself.”

Tony scoffs, “how could you possibly know that my dad knows?”

“Because even though he retired from Stark Industries, you still fill him in on everything because he appreciates feeling involved. Also we all know Howard love me and he’d totally tell me. So…”

Trying, and failing, to contain his laughter, Tony lets out a sigh, “it’s true. He does, and he would. Fine. I’ll tell you, the meeting is in Boston and I’d have to leave tomorrow. But I don’t —”

“Take the meeting, Tony. I can figure something else out. You are now allowed to hire someone to drive me, by the way. You’re already saving my life right now. I can extend the drive and just take my time doing it all myself. As long as I don’t drive too much in one day, I’ll be fine.”

As you look at him, silently pleading that he’ll say okay and still go so that he isn’t putting his life on hold for you, it’s like you can see a switch go off in his mind. “I gotta make a call. I think I know how to make this alright. Because I don’t know if I’m too comfortable with the idea of you making the drive all by yourself. You trust me?”

“Always,” your reply is almost instant.

“Hey. I can practically see the gears in your brain turning. Don’t let your thoughts go there. I’ve known you a long time, and you can’t blame yourself for this. Absolutely none of what happened to you is your fault. You are a good person, and John Walker is a fucking piece of shit. Speaking of which, I do have a possible solution —”

“No.”

“What! You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I do, and absolutely not.”

Tony holds his hands up in surrender, “just hear me out okay? I have an acquaintance, a friend if you will, Nick Fowler. He owes me a massive favor and I can cash it in—”

“And have him kill John?”

“Well he has worked for the CIA and he knows how to cover shit up! Just let me talk to him and I swear—”

“Tony I love you, but no. I don’t need that on my conscience. Thank you though, it is nice to know you’d risk prison for me.”

“I am going to make a call though. Don’t worry, not to Nick. But take this,” he opens his wallet and pulls a card out. One side is completely blank. The other simply reads N.F. and there’s a phone number underneath. “If anything ever happens and you need help, you call him and tell him you’re a friend of mine and you’re cashing in my favor. Okay?”

Knowing Tony will only accept once answer, you nod, tucking the card into the back of your phone case. “Okay, I’ll call him if I ever need help.”

Tony heads outside to make his call, and you duck so that he doesn’t realize you’re just on the other side of the door, trying to listen. “I know we haven’t talked in a long time and — wait, fuck. Don’t hang up alright? I — she needs you.” A pause. “Yes, that she.” Another pause. “How soon can you get to California?”

Assuming he’ll be back inside soon, you quickly walk over to the kitchen, sitting down on a stool just as the door opens again.

“Is — is your plan alright?”

“Y—yes! My plan will be here tomorrow afternoon. Tonight though, you obviously can’t go back. We have plenty of guest rooms, and you know Pepper would love to have you stay over. Plus Morgan overheard me telling her that I was going to pick you up and so she freaked out about a possible sleepover. So now you have to stay over, it’s basically illegal not to. Now come on, I’ll show you your room.”

When you reach the room, you nearly burst into tears. Morgan has covered the bed with drawings and what you assume are meant to be letters, but are really just a bunch of scribbled lines.

“Told you she was excited about you coming over. But she might try to drag you to her room later. Now you will also notice the large white bags with the Apple logo on them. I had a hunch you might have to leave your things behind so I made a few purchases.”

As you open the bags and begin pulling all of the different sized boxes out, you look back to Tony in shock. “I can’t possibly accept all of this! Anthony, what the fu—”

“Language! I made a pit stop as soon as I landed back in California. The laptop and phones still need to be set up and charged. But they both came with a 50% battery so it’s at least a little charged, and almost everyone’s phone numbers are in already. I will also not be accepting any further protests about how this is too much. We all joke about how I have a stupid amount of money, more than anyone realistically needs in their lifetime. So let me help you with a little bit of it, please.”

Before you can attempt to protest him spending this much money on you again, Tony says he’s going to make some phone calls about going to Boston, and he’ll let you get some rest.

Wide awake, but knowing your body probably really does need the rest, you lay down while scrolling through your new phone. You smile as you scroll through the contacts. Besides Tony, he also put Howard, Bruce, Steve, Peter, Nat, Yelena, Kate, Rhodey, Thor, Loki, and a handful of others.

You then notice that you already have a ton of unread messages, and for a brief moment, there’s panic that John somehow found out you’re gone and he found your new number and he’s attempting to contact you already. But then you see the messages, and immediately feel better.

.

.

.

peter 🕷

tony gave me your new number, just wanted to reach out and say i love and miss you ☺️ i'm taking you out for lunch when you're back in new york! this is peter btw.

.

.

steve 🇺🇸

hey 👋🏻 i'm glad you're safe now. i'm always here if you ever need anything, no matter what time it is. i love you and miss you!

.

.

wanda 🪄

hi my love ♥️ call me whenever you get the chance, and if you need me i'm always here. i love you.

.

.

rhodey 🤖

we'll have already seen each other but let me know if you want me to kill john. swear to god i won't tell tony.

.

.

clint 🏹

hey kiddo 😁 if you ever need to get away, you're always welcome to come stay with us. the kids miss you (okay i admit, i do too). we love you, and can't wait to see you again!

.

.

unknown number

did you pick up the pizza?

.

.

unknown number

i just realized this is not in fact my grand son. well anyway hi stranger, i'm stan

.

.

yelena 🔪

hiiiiii! tony says you'll be back in new york soon and that you'll be getting a new apartment! let me know when, i'm taking you shopping. do NOT let kate take you. you know she only has one fork in her entire apartment??? that is not cutlery. anyway, Я тебя люблю!

                [ Я тебя люблю! = I love you! ]

.

.

kate 💜

idk what yelena text you, but she just called me and was laughing like a crazy person so don't listen to her. i miss you and am so excited to see you! let me know if you ever need anything okay?

.

.

loki 🐍

hi love, let me know when you're back and we'll do dinner 🍝🍕🥂 and also let me know if you want me to kill walker. i love you and will see you soon! serious offer by the way. i won’t ask any questions.

.

.

thor ⚡️

hey you! it's thor. call me whenever you're free! okay siri, end text. siri, send text.

.

.

.

After responding to everyone, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, so you decide that you will actually take a nap.

One hour later though, you’re woken up after having a nightmare. And it’s not long before your anxiety creeps back in. Stress, worry, genuine fear that John will find you, and who knows what he’d do.

“YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HEREEEE!” Morgan bursts into the room, immediately jumping on the bed and tackling you in the biggest hug.

Luckily for you, Morgan provides some much needed distractions for the entire day. Tea party, dress up, a second tea party, putting on concerts to her favorite songs, you don’t have time to think of John even once.

That night when Morgan and Pepper have gone to bed (Tony’s still awake, you can hear him tinkering in his lab, but you don’t feel quite ready to talk about… things, yet), you lay awake. And you begin to think of everything that could go wrong. Maybe leaving John is a mistake. He’s still out of town, so if you went back right now then he’d never know you attempted to leave in the first place.

Finally at an unknown time, you manage to fall asleep. But once you open your eyes again, the thoughts come back quickly. You can’t stay on those bad thoughts for long though, because Morgan once again runs into the room and jumps on the bed. Pepper follows closely behind, apologizing and saying she tried to tell Morgan to wait until you’d come out of the room.

Glancing at the clock, you see that it’s already 7:30am. You’ve been wallowing in your own thoughts for nearly an hour.

“You wanna help me pick out something to wear?” You ask Morgan, who claps and turns giddy with joy. After throwing out nearly ever piece of clothing in one of the suitcases, Morgan decides on one of the first outfits she pulled out.

You quickly go into the bathroom to change and brush your teeth, and come back into the room just as Tony gets there. Pepper ushers Morgan out, promising Morgan that she’ll be able to play again as soon as you’re done talking.

Once they’re both down the hall, Tony informs you that his backup plan will arrive at 1pm today.

“Why can’t I know who it is again? I mean it has to be someone I already know because you wouldn’t ask just anyone to make the drive with me. And someone I don’t know probably wouldn’t want to do it anyway.”

“What can I say?” he shrugs, “I love a good surprise.”

Around 9am, after everyone has had breakfast, Tony helps you bring your suitcases out of your room and back by the front door. He reassures you that there’s no rush to leave, but he figures you’d want to get the hell out of California as soon as possible. And he’s right.

After that, you spend the next few hours watching movies in the living room with Morgan, while Pepper hops on back to back conference calls, and Tony takes work calls and prepares to leave to Boston not long after you and your mystery road trip partner hit the road.

At exactly 12:45pm, the doorbell rings. You immediately tense up as you watch Tony walk towards the door, wondering who the hell he asked to make the trip with you.

It definitely isn’t Peter or Bruce, because they’ve got big mouths and definitely would’ve accidentally told you by now. That, and Peter would’ve asked about a roadtrip playlist or something, this spoiling the surprise unintentionally. And it’s not Yelena or Nat because they’re in Russia. You don’t think it’s anyone else that text you either, just based on what they said. So who —

“Hey kiddo come meet your road trip buddy!”

When you make your way to the front door, you’re stunned into silence. You had your ideas of who it definitely wasn’t, but nothing could’ve prepared you for who Tony actually chose.

The man who broke your heart.

“ — Bucky?”

“Hey doll, been a while.”

 i’m soooo excited to finally start publishing this! likes and re-blogs are always appreciated!

TAG LISTS: (if i typed the @ and it didn’t tag you, i’ll tag you in a comment, but it means that i couldn’t tag you so maybe check your settings!)

all characters: @jaywalkingape​

bucky tags: @hallecarey1​ — @valkyrie418​ — @weirdowithnobeardo​ — @adoringsebstan​ — @seabassstanfan — @eliwinchester99​ — @searchf0rtheskyline​ — @cherriebat​ — @channelxt

series tags: @roofwitty779​ — @kilikina34512​

if I’ve missed anyone, I’m so sorry! please let me know and I’ll make sure to fix that. also if you’d like to be added to my tag list(s), send something to my ask box! sometimes I miss messages. just let me know either the series, a character, or you can just say “all” if you want to be tagged in everything! you can see who i write for in my bio.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel au #mcu au #avengers au #tony stark #steve rogers #yelena belova #natasha romanoff #rhodey #peter parker #kate bishop #clint barton

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Let's Talk About That Chapter 2

Psychiatrist!Avenger!fem!reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: The compound has been built, and training has begun. With the two of you living together now stolen moments are bound to happen.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: legal age gap r is 19 and w is 25, talks of depression, bit of angst, bit of fluff, talk of vo*it (once towards the end)

A/N: The moment between R and W is taken from the moment in WandaVision where they go through Wanda's memories so R is taking the place of Vision and says his lines in that moment.

June 21st 2015

The new Compound was finally built and all of the Avengers moved there to live and to train. You got a new office looking similar to your old one and before you could start moving your things in it was time to start training the new recruits.

Captain America and Black Widow prepare to train the new roster of Avengers, consisting of Falcon, Wanda, War Machine, and Vision.

You stand just off to the side of Cap and Tasha. "You ready to finally show off your powers?" Cap asks you as you smirk, cracking your neck to either side. 

"Oh Cap, you know I was born ready.” you tell him as your eyes glow purple. 

"Alright, line up!" You call out. The new recruits line up. "I have a simple task for you four, move me from this spot." You tell them and you hear Sam chuckle. 

"You deal with our emotions, how hard could it be to move you?" He asks. 

"Thank you for volunteering to be my first victim Sam!" You smile. "Please front and center. The other watch as Sam tries to move you in any way, but can't. Even using his wings he can't. Then Rhodey tries and still nothing, Vision attempts and you don't budge. You look at Wanda. "Well?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow up at her. She has this soft look in her eyes almost like a baby deer.

"I don't want to hurt you." Wanda says her being the only magic user besides you currently on the team. 

"Oh sweetie. You could never hurt me. Go on, hit me with your best shot." You tell her, her eyes and hands glow red as she unleashes attacks on you as you swipe your hand up, a purple force field looking much like Wanda's own magic comes to protect you. They all look at you in shock. 

"Oh did we forget to mention something?" You hear Natasha's condescending tone ring out behind you making you chuckle, catching the attention of the newest members. 

"I think we did Tasha." You say pulling the collar of your shirt down, showing off the glowing purple stone in your chest, looking similar to the mind stone in Vision's head. "I have the power stone in my chest. Really I'm the best of both worlds. Brains and brawns. The stone gives me psychic energy manipulation, force field generation, disintegration of objects I touch, energy absorption, magic empowerment, and of course superhuman strength and durability.

The new Avengers stood in awe as you revealed the Power Stone embedded in your chest, their expressions a mix of shock and admiration. You could feel the weight of their gaze on you, but you stood tall, unyielding, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Wow," Sam exclaimed, breaking the silence. "That's... impressive."

You chuckled, feeling a surge of pride at their reaction. "Thank you, Sam. But let's not get too distracted. We have work to do."

With that, you motioned for them to regroup, eager to put their newfound knowledge to the test. "Alright, let's try this again," you announced, positioning yourself in the center of the training area. "This time, I want you to work together to try and move me."

The recruits exchanged glances before nodding in determination. Sam and Rhodey took to the skies, while Vision and Wanda focused their powers, creating a coordinated assault.

As they unleashed their combined efforts, you could feel the energy swirling around you, pushing against the force field generated by the Power Stone. But despite their best efforts, you remained rooted to the spot, a testament to the strength of the stone's power.

"Keep going!" You encouraged them, a grin spreading across your face as you felt the thrill of the challenge. "You're doing great!"

For several minutes, they continued their assault, each attack more powerful than the last. But no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't overcome the barrier protecting you.

Finally, with a triumphant shout, they ceased their assault, panting and exhausted but exhilarated by the challenge. "I... I can't believe it," Sam gasped, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Believe it," you replied, your voice tinged with pride. "With teamwork and determination, there's nothing we can't overcome. You guys are new to being a team. I'm sure you'll be able to take me on properly soon."

As the others caught their breath, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement for the future. With this new team of Avengers and the power of the Stone at your disposal, there was no telling what this new team could accomplish together. And as you looked around at your teammates, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them head-on, united as one.

=============================================================

The Next Day June 22nd 2015

It's late evening after you had roused yourself to get a snack you notice Wanda's door cracked slightly as you forgo getting a snack and decide to knock on her door. "Open." She says similar to you when the two of you first met. You open the door fully and smile at her, but she doesn't have a smile to give you back. 

She has Malcom in the Middle playing as she is sat on her bed, a grey tank top, mostly covered by a black sweater hanging off her shoulder and tight black leggings. She's sitting with her legs crossed, a pillow in her lap that's she's leaning on. "If now isn't a good time I can..." you trail off. She pats the bed next to her, still no smile, but you can read her well enough that she wants company, she just doesn't always know how to ask for it. 

She looks away, pulling her sleeves over her hands and even though they're covered she still keeps tugging at them with anxiety. You sit next to her mimicking her posture as you grab one of her pillows from behind us and crossing your legs. She finally attempts a smile at you for half a second once you've settled. Then turns her attention back to the TV where Hal gets hurt and you chuckle. 

"I only watched Malcom in the Middle when it was on TV, but I tended to find Full House, Fresh Prince, and The Nanny playing when I'd go looking for late night TV." You tell her. 

"You like sitcoms?" She asks and you look at her with a warm smile. 

"Yeah I do. Never got the chance to tell you though." A smile creeps onto her lips without her knowledge. You unconsciously lick your lips as you stare at hers. She always somehow managed to look perfect and maybe it's the repressed emo girl that you used to be, but her in all black, and her black nail polish she just so happened to be your type. 

"Y/N?" You're pulled back to reality by her voice.

"Hmm?" You ask. 

"I asked what's your favorite sitcom?" She repeats and you think a moment, you end up letting yourself fall back against her bed, staring at her ceiling.

"That's honestly hard for me to answer. I'm not good with picking favorites." You look over at her. "I always feel bad when I pick a favorite anything as if the others aren't good enough or something." You confess to Wanda. 

"What about like top 3 or top 5?"

"Hmmm…” You think for a few moments, going through the list of sitcoms you've grown up with, contemplating about each for no more than a moment. “Full House, That 70s Show, Seinfeld, Friends, Golden Girls, and The Office is probably my newest obsession." She smiles before letting a laugh pass her lips. You smile, biting your bottom lip as you do so because she's just so, "Beautiful." I end up saying out loud. She stops and you can see her face redden. You scramble up off her bed. "Shit sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry I'll leave!" You ramble and as you turn to run you feel her grip on your wrist. You look back at her, eyes glowing. 

"If we're being honest with each other Doctor I'd like to let you know I think you're quiet beautiful yourself." She admits to you and something about her calling you doctor sends your brain into a frenzy and you can tell she's hearing every thought going through your head and you can't find yourself to even be mad about it right now as you step back to her, grabbing her face and kissing her.

The moment your lips met, it was as if time stood still. All the worries, the doubts, the fears melted away, leaving only the warmth of her touch and the sweet taste of her lips against yours. In that fleeting moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of you, lost in the intensity of the connection we shared.

As the kiss deepened, you felt a surge of emotions coursing through you, a mixture of desire, longing, and something deeper, something you couldn't quite put into words. It was as if your souls were reaching out to each other, seeking solace and understanding in the midst of chaos.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you found yourself gazing into Wanda's eyes, searching for any sign of regret or hesitation. But all you saw was warmth and affection, mirrored in her gaze.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have—"

But before you could finish your sentence, Wanda silenced you with a gentle touch of her finger against your lips. "Don't apologize," she said softly, her eyes sparkling with emotion. "That was... unexpected, but not unwelcome."

You felt a rush of relief flood through you at her words, a weight lifted from your shoulders. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for something more between the two of you.

As we sat there in silence, the glow of the TV casting flickering shadows across the room, you realized that this was just the beginning of your journey together. There would be challenges ahead, obstacles to overcome, but as long as you faced them together, you knew the two of you could conquer anything.

With a smile, you reached out and took Wanda's hand in yours, intertwining your fingers as if to seal the unspoken promise between the two of you. As the two of you sat there, bathed in the soft light of the TV, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, side by side, as partners, as friends, and perhaps, if we were lucky, as something more.

Wanda pulls you onto her lap after moving the pillow away. She pulls you into a tight hug and whispers, "I've been so tired recently. It's just...it's like this wave washing over me again and again. It knocks me down and when I try to stand up it just comes for me again and I can't-" you hear her voice cracking, her emotion shifting along with her aura as you rub her back. "It's just going to drown me." She confesses.

"No...no it's not..." you tell her.

"Yeah..." She lets out a dry chuckle and you pull back, letting your hands find her cheeks again. You stare into those deep green eyes full of sorrow and hope there comes a point where you can see them full of joy. You’ve only gotten small glimpses of happiness from Wanda and all you wanted was for those glimpses to last longer until there was no sorrow left. 

"No it won't, I won't let it. Not now. Not ever. Do you hear me Wanda?" You're searching her tear filled eyes to see if on any level she believes you because you could only hope that your words offered some solace to her feelings. All you wanted to do was take some of it away, even just a little so she wasn’t drowning anymore.

"How do you know?" Her voice is cracking and soft, it breaks you to hear her like this.

"Well it can't all be sorrow, can it?" She's searching your Y/E/C eyes now, your thoughts even. "Tell me. What is grief if not love persevering?" You ask, a small tilt to your head. Her dam finally breaks as she cries and you shush her, helping her through it. "I've got you Wanda. Always. I'll hold you above the waves. I'd let myself drown before I let it take you." You tell her softly. “I can help take some of it away, would you like that?” You ask her, her tear filled eyes looking up at you and nods ever so slightly, but still asks,

“Will it hurt?” Her voice cracks as you rub her cheeks with your thumbs, wiping the tears away.

“No darling it won’t it’ll make you feel lighter. I don’t do it often. Bad emotions are disgusting. I have to take them out of you and eat them which I’m sure sounds weird and I guess in a way it is, but for you I’ll do it.” She nods once again, clinging to you as you move your hand to her back, rubbing a gentle circle. You can feel the physical manifestation of the emotions pulling them apart from one another, only taking out the pain and grief, not all just enough. 

A black oobleck is pulled out threatening to slip through your fingers as Wanda pulls back to look. You use both your hands to keep it contained as you bring it to your mouth. You open your mouth as wide as you can, tongue sticking out as you let the gooey orb fall into your mouth and swallow. Your face contorts and a shiver goes through your body like when you take medicine you can’t stand. It tastes like vomit in the worst way possible and the main reason you tended not to do this. 

You feel Wanda cup your cheeks and murmur, “You’re okay.” and “Thank you.” As much as you hated it, you knew you’d do it as much as she needed. You lean in, placing your forehead against her own, nuzzling your faces together as you feel your cheeks dampen from her tears. 

“No more tears darling.” You whisper, feeling her smile against you. 

The two of you eventually make it up her bed, laying against her pillows, small soft kisses are peppered in between things. There are no more tears from Wanda through the night as the show continues playing as she falls asleep on your chest. 

As Wanda rested against you, her breathing steady and her grip on you relaxed, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Despite the turmoil and uncertainty that surrounded you two, in this moment, all that mattered was the warmth of her body pressed against yours, the rhythm of her breaths lulling you into a state of calm.

You gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, marveling at the serenity that seemed to radiate from her even in sleep. She had been through so much, faced unimaginable challenges and losses, yet here she was, still fighting, still clinging to hope.

And in that moment, you made a silent vow to yourself, to always be there for her, to be her anchor in the storm, to hold her above the waves no matter how fierce they may rage. Because Wanda was more than just a teammate or a friend—she was someone you cared deeply for, someone you would do anything to protect.

As the soft glow of the TV bathed the room in a gentle light, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, knowing that no matter what tomorrow may bring, the two of you would face it together, united in our strength and our love. And as you held Wanda in your arms, you knew that as long as the two of you had each other, you could weather any storm that came your way.

#ley speaks #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #ley writes #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff angst

[darkdemeter]

WOLF AT YOUR DOOR Pt. 2

The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN (ONESHOT) #2 —

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

A/N — So this took a fucking while because I was very sick and then by the time I could write I had lost the ideas I had and the inspiration to write it. Anyway this is considered as part 2 to Wolf At Your Door but can be read as standalone I suppose. Also there is no smut for this one because I just couldn't see it being in this part. I've got 2 other Wanda oneshots coming up that will have smut, one of which may be quite long... like Habits II if I can.

WORD COUNT — 2.9k

READER DISCRETION — fluff — slightly possessive reader — Wanda and reader being a grump x sunshine couple — profanity — mention of protective reader — all about them pups really — small mention of Wanda's backstory — there's SITCOMS HERE — reader acknowledges the cheese of romcoms — marking — confessions and feels — I think that's it?

PREVIOUS COLUMN(S) — WOLF AT YOUR DOOR

SUMMARY — Never did you ever imagine that pups would become your future. No less, to Wanda Maximoff. Despite your odds and differences to begin with, perhaps you're willing to give this thing a shot.

“No.” 

It’s as simple as that as you push the trolley forward. Wanda pouts and as an act of defiance, she throws the colourful, tiny suit into the metal basket on wheels. You aren’t quick enough to repress the almost disgusted sigh. 

“What’s wrong with it?” she asks behind a scowl as you both continue your voyage down the aisle. “Yellow hurts me. Deeply.”

Was that a lie? Maybe. But did you instantly regret your answer when you see the flicker of disappointment in Wanda’s eyes? There’s no doubt about it. She reaches back into the trolley for the tiny suit, amongst the array of others you both had already picked out, most likely to place it back on the rack when you stop her. 

“Leave it.” She looks shocked when you prevent her from fishing it out of the selection. You only roll your eyes, the faintest of smirks on your lips. “I’ll just have to be blindfolded when I hold them.”

Wanda smiles a toothy smile - that perfect smile - in regards to your humour. You’d never been one at the party to crack jokes but sure as hell would win a joke match against Rhodey. Him and his fucking tank story. 

But Wanda is entertained deeply by the mental picture of you with a literal blindfold over your eyes as you cradle little wolf jr. A picture perfect snapshot already archived in the album in her mind. 

Already midway through the second trimester. Time is flying by so quickly. You both still hadn’t sorted out the crib yet and by that, you hadn’t. But all the cribs you and Wanda saw were made for one baby; two at best if you were really set on them sharing. 

But human cribs never accounted for four pups and you weren’t very impressed by the idea of building four separate cribs. Uh uh, that made your wolf brain go crazy. Your pups separated from each other? How would they bond with each other?

That was how you and Wanda got on the topic of a ‘den’ and nesting. Surprisingly she was on board with the idea from the start when you first told her your concerns about the pups being kept away from each other, that their bonding time would be hindered greatly if you both went about it the human way.

She’d agreed wholeheartedly. Not a huge case it took to convince her. 

Wanda and yourself roll into the next aisle and the first few racks were rows upon rows of socks and shoes meant to be fitted to tiny feet. 

Wanda laughs at the expression on your face and you give her a puzzling furrow, head tilting to the side like a confused dog. 

“What?”

“You,” she giggles, “didn’t expect our little rendezvous night to take so well, did you?” You merely shrug with a small noise, quick to cover it up you clear your throat loudly. 

“You brought it out of me. You should have known never to do that to a werewolf.”

Wanda smirks with a slight nod of her head. She’s double sure she doesn’t regret a single thing. There’s nothing she would trade for this feeling of her hand running over the large bump of her stomach that ferociously kicks with your pups. Four, healthy pups. 

There were still remnants of the aftershock back at the compound. The reveal that you and Wanda had slept together was talk of the compound for weeks before Wanda grew sick and with that, the test coming back positive. When you were able, Banner executed some further tests and you almost fainted right there on the spot when he congratulated on the four additions.

And not to mention the overstimulation on your part. Not only was Wanda a walking ball of ever changing hormones but you were in overdrive as well. Anytime someone made Wanda upset in the slightest you were on them in a matter of seconds. Fury had to call an emergency meeting in regards to keeping yourself in line throughout Wanda’s pregnancy. Not that it helped, you only grew to become fiercely protective over Wanda and your unborn pups. 

But for Wanda it was all she could want. Not to lie to yourself - your counsellor advised that lying to yourself is a bad habit - but you were happy as well. This was a secret dream come true. Wanda’s interest is piqued when she spots a set of black footed pyjamas with crescent moons on the pads of the feet and little pawprints scattered across the body. 

“Y/N, look!” she gapes as she holds the suit up for you to look at. Out of some maternal habit, she holds it against her bump and in that moment, it all hits you like a freight train. 

You were going to become a parent. A wolf parent. You wouldn’t be so alone anymore now with Wanda carrying your lineage within her womb. And she’s excited for it. Has been since the very beginning. To have such an opportunity before you now, you realise just how alone you were before. How fine you’d been being so alone before. 

But if you had a chance to go back in time, to stop yourself from entering Wanda’s dormitory that night, you realise now that you wouldn’t. 

Your lips part but no words come to mind. You’re drawn at a blank. All you can do is marvel at the inevitable coming of your pups. “I think we should get them, the pups will look so cute.” She grabs three more and places them in the trolley. 

‘Fucking hell…’

Wanda looks up from the haul and tilts her head curiously at the look you give her. Eyes wide, unblinking and just simply admiring her. Right there in that aisle of baby supplies. Not exactly one of those times in movies where the misunderstood, hardened love interest finally sees the sunshine protagonist in the highlight of their epiphany and has a complete one-eighty on their entire reality; but fuck, it was close enough. 

Seeing Wanda swollen large with your pups. It’s something that cannot - will not - be robbed from you. “You okay?” she asks softly and you nod slowly. 

“Yeah. Really good, actually.”

Ugh, those sitcoms and romcoms she’s made you watch are starting to rub off on you. You sound so fucking cheesy. She smiles wider this time and using a hand to flip some loose hair behind her shoulder, she beckons you to follow her. 

Maybe yellow isn’t such a bad colour. You can make it work.

Dinner time is rolling around and you check the time, just ten minutes past six. Wanda happily prepares dinner for both of you and your invited guests, her eyes occasionally lifting to watch the sitcom she’s adamant on watching.

At first, you didn’t get the fascination with a cast of characters just doing mundane things in one space only to have the laugh track and fade effect transition into the next location. 

However, Wanda was quite open with you about her life before Hydra took her and her brother. That she adored sitcoms from a young age, and one of the last memories she has is sitting down next to Peitro in front of the TV to watch an episode of the Dick Van Dyke show, her parents cuddled together on the couch. 

It was a raw scene to bear witness to. Her eyes flooded with tears. The only thing you could do in that moment was pull her to you in a tight embrace. The rest is history. One of your personal favourites was Bewitched, but you refuse to admit that to anyone. 

“How’s the project coming along?” Wanda asks as she stirs the contents in the pot around, giving it a little taste test. “It’s good,” you answer with a focused grunt, expertly working one of the last screws into place. 

“You’re following the instructions, right?” You don’t need to look at her to know her attention is elsewhere, she’s not even looking over at you. You roll your eyes, gaze momentarily glaring down at the booklet. 

You grumble to yourself under your breath. “Don’t need the instructions, werewolves don’t need fucking instructions.”

Wanda can’t suppress the grin on her lips at your huffing and wolfish grumbling. The pups were in for a treat with you, she can tell already. 

“Do human babies actually like these… knick knacks?” you ask rather unsurely. You stand the changing station up and brush your hand along the mobile. The colourful, plastic bits clink and sway. 

“Yeah!” she answers with enthusiasm. You only raise your brows more with worry. You weren’t set on having those little things dangle in front of your pups, just begging to be grabbed and chewed to bits. But that was a worried conversation for another time, a knock on the door alerts you both of your arrived company. 

You call out for them to enter as you busy yourself with putting aside the table. Natasha all but swaggers on inside, a box in her hands as her eyes glance between you and Wanda. 

“Good evening, how did the shopping go?” 

Wanda giggles at your reaction before she uses her stirring spoon to point at the haul you both had garnered today on your big voyage to the great danger beyond: the public. Sam, Steve and Clint walk in after Natasha, each wearing a smile of their own.

“You ready to have a crack at parenthood, Wolf?” Clint jokes and you shrug. “As ready as I could ever be.” 

Wanda begins serving up dinner when her eyes squint, accusation on the tip of her tongue. “We’re missing one,” she drawls and Steve chuckles lightly under the scrutiny of the witch’s gaze. 

“Bucky had to cancel last minute, small mission briefing.” Steve’s explanation is supposedly good enough for your little witch to accept but you see the judgement in her eyes. You chuckled, the wolf in your eyes spelling mischief as you look at Wanda from across the way.

“So lucky. If only I had a mission briefing too.” 

Wanda flicks her fingers at you, the tips of her fingers glowing with her scarlet magic when a knife flies your way. You catch it with a surprised guffaw. “Sweetheart, I thought we would save the knife play for later.”

Wanda looks at you with a narrowed gaze but her smirk speaks volumes to you. She’s silently challenging you and all you do is raise your brows, your tongue in your cheek. 

Sam is clearing his third plate of the masterpiece dish he insists is of five star quality. You hum teasingly under your breath, “I dunno, I think she tried to poison mine.” 

The others share in the banter with small laughs and their own opinions of their dish, all of which praise Wanda’s skills around the kitchen. 

But what was all your teasing but a mere altered projection of your deep, underlying affection for Wanda? As you talk and catch up with your friends at the dinner table, your hand seeks out Wanda’s under the table. When you find hers, your fingers intertwined together. A simple and small action but for you, it held more affection than many things that could overly express one’s love. 

You weren’t the type to show up at the door with a giant bundle of roses and balloons, with music blasting the greatest love song hits of the century. You always prefer to keep it small. Private. Intimate. 

So after another hour or so, your friends call their leave. “And remember, Tony’s hosting that huge baby shower for you guys next week,” Natasha reminds over her shoulder. A shudder attacks your spine and you inwardly growl. Tony would of course play out the entire thing as an act of being the ‘fun and cool uncle’ but really, it was another dig for getting the car done up good on your mission. 

“He knows I hate his parties,” you mumble to her once you’re both alone. She’s in the kitchen finishing up the washing when you walk up behind her. It’d been a big day for you both. It feels good for it to just be the two of you know. 

Your arms circle around her waist and pull her in close, her back flush against your front you take the opportunity to bury your nose into her neck. She giggles loudly, cringing as she tries to wriggle away from you.

“What’s wrong?” you coo with a playful nip to the shell of her ear. “I’m ticklish there!” she squeals but you continue to feign knowledge.

“Oh? Are you now?”

“Yes!”

You laugh, cool, rich and deep. A husky drawl while you continue to nuzzle into her neck, inhaling her calming scent. Your hands balance on the rise of her swollen stomach, the kicks strong and prominent against the light pressure of your hands. 

“They know it’s you,” she cannot help but say with a smile. Something about your pups being able to recognise your touch makes her heart flutter and it makes something in you inflate. Pride. 

Your pups knew you by touch already. You just knew they were excited by the mere presence of your hands - of you - being so near. You smile. “Because they know I’ll protect them. Protect you.”

“You know… you never did mark me.”

You freeze for a moment, hesitant on how to answer her. What could you say to that? But Wanda turns around to face you and draws you into a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips capture yours and her tongue teases the line of your mouth. 

“I don’t care what reservations you have about this relationship, or that you plan on sleeping with other people. But please, I just want to feel some semblance of love, that I belong to you.”

You frown at this and immediately, your hands find the edges of her jaw to lift your tearful eyes to yours. “Wanda,” you sigh in disbelief, “take a look inside. What do you see?”

She gives you a look of scepticism and you huff deeply through your nose, a wolf behaviour to further urge her to comply. She does so, closing her eyes and taking a moment to read your thoughts. This is the first time you’ve given her permission to take a look inside your mind.

“You see anyone else?” She shakes her head in response. “That’s because there is nobody else. There’s only you.”

You sink to your knees so you’re at eye level with the baby bump. Wanda watches you, eyes wide and jaw slack. Whatever antics you were getting up to, she’s at a loss. When has she ever seen you become a mushy mess for anything? When Wanda looked at you, she never put affection as part of your resume. You and the factor of affection or anything to do with a loving relationship were just two opposite ends of the spectrum.

She didn’t believe you were ever capable of such adoration and devotion. “There’s never been anyone else. It’s always just been me. That’s how it used to be before… this.” Your nose pushes against her bump and you feel the pups kick again. 

You grin this time before your eyes lift up to see Wanda, her button lip jutted out in a pout. Her bright eyes coated with hot tears.

“Little witch, I’m not… I’m still very new to all this. But I’m telling you now that I want to have a go.” You pause and swallow thickly. “I don’t want it to just be me anymore. I want it to be us.”

“Then make it an us. That’s all I want.” 

You hear the plea in her whisper and you rise up to your full height, staring down at her. Your hands cradle her face in your hold, you simply take the moment to admire in her eyes what you once mistook for lust; that you now see as love. 

“It’ll hurt for a second,” you inform her as you slowly tilt her head so her neck is bared for you. “But I promise it’ll be for just a second.”

She nods and you take that as your go ahead. This is where the lone road ends for you. No more being alone. 

She closes her eyes with the growing anticipation and you bare your prolonged fangs, inching them closer to the sensitive skin of her neck, hovering over the spot you’d nuzzled just prior. Right where she was ticklish. 

With a final, deep breath you close the distance and plunge your canines and her body locks up, a yelp on her lips you tug her in closer to you. Your body is a silent assurance that she’s alright. That she and your pups will be alright. 

She feels it in her core, a whirlwind that sweeps her like a heavy storm. Like wind blowing in her face and drawing the air from her lungs. Right beneath the surface of her skin tingles and becomes ignited with that binding fire. When you pull away with a breathless exhale, your dazed eyes glowing, it takes you a moment of swaying to become stable again.

“Fuck,” you both groan softly, noses brushing together as your lips dance over one another, their connection ghostly but the radiance of your new connection a fiery and passionate spark to the touch. 

Wanda smiles and her flushed cheeks indicate her flustered embarrassment. You chuckle deeply and lift her chin up with your fingers so she meets your hungry, wolfish gaze. 

“You’re mine now.” Her hand finds purchase on her stomach, and yours falls over the top of hers. “And they are our pups.”

Thank you for Reading! (◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

#female reader #gn reader #male reader #treehouse taglist #the dark demeter writing catalogue #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x werewolf! reader #werewolf reader #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda x y/n #werewolf #pups #pregnant wanda #marking #wanda maximoff x you

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 24, Undercover - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of drug use, human trafficking, car accident.

Word Count: 806

Previously On...: You woke up to some unsettling news.

A/N: Bye bye, Ole Sammy :(

I'm just messing with you-- he leaves, but nothing bad happens to him! I love him too much!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“Why didn’t you try to follow them?” Sam asked back at the apartment, once you’d told him about Kozlov’s visitors. He was so pissed at you for being out all night without sending word, but his anger quickly turned to concern once you had explained what had happened to Chloe.

“I wasn’t there when they took her,” you told him, which, technically, wasn’t a lie. You weren’t there mentally at the time. “I only heard about it this morning from another girl who saw her leave with them.

You were perched in front of your laptop, running through the club’s security feed that you’d managed to hack into. You were looking for any shots of Chloe, your hope being that, once you had captured her image, you could run it through facial recognition software. Hopefully, she’d been caught on a surveillance camera at some point after she’d been taken. If you were lucky, you might be able to narrow down her location based on what cameras she’d been seen on. It was a long shot, but it was the only one you had at the moment.

You’d been staring at the screen running the facial recognition for about an hour when Sam’s phone rang. Your stomach twisted, and you were worried it might be Bucky calling again. 

“Relax,” said Sam when he saw you tense at the sound. “It’s just Sarah.” He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. “Sister!” he greeted cheerfully. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You watched Sam’s face fall as Sarah talked to him, morphing into deep concern. “What?! When? … Who was he with? … Well, is he alright?” You sat up straighter. You instantly felt a sense of deja vu, bringing you back to when Tony had gotten the call about Rhodey, and you knew something was terribly wrong. “Which hospital? … No, I’m gonna fly straight down. Today. … Don’t worry about that, Sarah. … He’s my nephew! Of course I’m gonna be there! … I’ll call you when I get to the airport. … Be strong, okay? He’s gonna be fine. You gotta have faith. … Love you, too.” He turned to face you, anguish written across his features.

“What is it?” you asked, heart racing with fear. “Is it one of the boys? What happened?”

“It’s A.J.,” Sam said, his voice cracking. “A friend’s dad was bringin’ him home from soccer practice and they got into an accident.” Your hands flew to your mouth. “He’s alive,” Sam clarified, before you had the chance to ask. “But he’s unconscious; hurt real bad. They had to airlift him to the trauma center at Ochsner LSU in Shreveport.”

Sam began moving through the apartment, collecting his belongings and stuffing them in his go-bag. “I’m so sorry, Pocket.”

“Sam, don’t,” you said, making him pause for a moment by putting a hand on his shoulder. “He’s your nephew. You need to be there. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t wanna leave you with the mess all alone,” Sam said. “‘Specially now that there’s a new missing girl.”

“It’s okay,” you told him. “I’ve got no leads right now, and only a miniscule potential breadcrumb trail to follow with the facial recognition. If anything starts to heat up, or there’s new info, I’ll call Tony, make him come down, okay?”

Sam studied you, as though he wasn’t sure leaving you was the right thing to do. “The second things get even a hint of dicy,” he said, “you’ll call Stark? You won’t play hero?”

You held up the three middle fingers of your left hand. “Scouts’ honor,” you told him.

“Baby Girl, I know you ain’t ever been any kinda scout,” Sam gently teased.

Once he’d finished his rushed packing, he pulled you in for a tight hug and kissed you on the temple. “I’m so sorry,” he reiterated.

“Stop apologizing and go be with your family,” you said. “Do you need me to drive you to the airport?”

Sam shook his head. “Nah; too far outta your way. Besides, I already ordered an Uber while you were looking for my phone charger.”

“Give my love to Sarah and Cas,” you told him as you walked him to the door. “And let her know A.J.’s in my thoughts. When he wakes up, give him the biggest hug from me, okay? But don’t hurt him!”

Sam smiled at you. “Will do, Baby Girl. Don’t forget, you call Stark the second you need anything, right?”

“Right,” you agreed. And with that, he was out the door, and you were alone. With a sigh, you turned to face the now empty apartment. This was fine. A.J. would be fine. Everything was fine. You would be fine.

Well, you’d be right about one of those four things, anyway.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[anika-ann]

Seven Minutes (S.R.)

Type: TWO-SHOT, independent, canon-ish

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 8700

Summary: You’re not obliged to go to that party, but you go because it’s a rare occasion during which most of your fellow Avengers meet and have some fun together. Until someone suggests a stupid teenage game. Until you and Steve end up locked in a closet together and things take a turn you couldn’t have possibly predicted.

Maybe you should have. Whenever Tony or – god forbid – Loki gets involved, it’s bound to end up in a disaster. Only this time, the victim of the shenanigans might be your heart.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, (unprotected sex, fingering, glimpses of size kink and praise kink, soft hints of D/s, mirrors, possessiveness;), alcohol, a drop of angst, language (a lot)

A/N: written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween challenge. Prompt in the final notes. I toyed with it so much that it might have been cheating 😅 dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

Part 1: Seven Minutes in Hell

“I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out.” ― Ally Carter, Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover

The party had died down; or as Tony said, only the fittest had survived. Banner, drunk on Asgardian liquor, let out a sensible chuckle at the words and fell asleep as he was, sprawled over one of the couches in the communal area, which looked more like a war zone than an aftermath of a giant party.

It wasn’t the mess of empty bottles and glasses and cushions having been thrown around at some point. It was the skeletons. The fake blood. The few smashed pumpkins, literally beaten to a pulp. Luckily, the one single torn-off arm which some idiot had smuggled in despite the strict ban on those, based on the fact that at least half of the guests suffered some form of a PTSD, had been kicked under the bar and covered by a cloth as soon as you had found it. Tony, despite already finding himself in a drunken haze, agreed to kick the asshole who had brought it out. Steve had shot you a grateful look when you had asked Tony to do so. Bucky – thankfully – never learned about the tasteless joke ever taking place.

Unlike the space, the Avengers had an aura of comfort around them. Lying around, some chatting sleepily, chuckling every now and then, some talking animatedly with a few friendly nudges under the ribs, they lounged in the area and welcomed the 1 a.m. announcement by Friday with relative grace.

Except for Tony, who booed and proceeded to glare at every single conscious Avenger present, one by one; Natasha and Clint comfortable on one couch, Steve and you on the other, Thor filling out a huge armchair, Rhodey looking a bit small in the other in comparison, Wanda practically lying in a lounge pug with Vision hovering by her like a guard, Helen and Maria crossed legged on tiny tabourets, Sam and Bucky, having been fighting each for their space on the couch, now sitting carelessly with Bucky’s feet against Sam’s thigh. And then there was Loki, spinning slowly in his egg chair he had charmed up and kept up in the air with his magic, Pepper having reluctantly sat down in the other which Loki had graciously made for her with a snap of his fingers.

“Seriously, guys! Just… boooo! This party is dying! We need to shake things up!” he called out theatrically, standing in the middle of the Sleepy Hollow with judgement written all over his face. Then, he lowered his voice, a wicked smile twisting his lips. “Do you wanna play a game? I do.”

At least four distinct snorts sounded around the group at his poor impression.

“Really, Tones?” Natasha questioned, probably referring to both his acting skills and the suggestion.

“I do want to play a game. It’s called let’s go to bed,” Bucky groaned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his feet back to the ground, startling Sam in the process.

“The night is still young, Barnes,” Clint huffed despite his eyelids barely staying open as he kept twisting a rubber imitation of femur between his fingers. “You sound like an old man.”

“Oh? That coming from you really says something,” Sam pointed out, a good-natured smile curling his lips; at the same time, Tony hummed: “Or a kinky one.”

“I must say I agree with Stark this once,” Thor boomed, nodding thoughtfully as several voices groaned at the gleeful grin lighting Tony’s face. “There seems to be a lull to these revels and it is indeed too soon to retire to bed. The sun has not even risen yet!”

A single clap of hands and Tony was gesturing towards Thor. “See! The Asgardian agrees with me. I must be right.”

“I bet he’s already regretting his words,” Steve noted, drawing a small chuckle from you.

In all honesty, you would be inclined to agree with Bucky on this one. Going to bed sounded heavenly, but there was one huge disadvantage to bed compared to the Sleeping Beauty Castle the Halloween party had turned into: the company wasn’t nearly as good. You weren’t greedy – you wouldn’t need all the Avengers present to come cuddle you in bed. Just one would do. The one whose thigh occasionally brushed yours as you talked about anything and everything, all kind smiles and a slightly tipsy spark in his gorgeous blue eyes which were complimented by the treacherous midnight shade of his one-size-too-small shirt.

“Now, now, Captain. The other Asgardian agrees too,” Loki’s voice slowly sneaked in, something in his tone causing your heart to skip a startled and yet excited beat.

Loki was… a friend. After trying hard for redemption, he had begun to join the Avengers business on occasion, his magic always proving to be of enormous help. His humour was a little wicked and twisted, but his heart was not nearly as dark as people had believed – or even he himself had. You sensed Steve’s wariness towards him still and understood his reasons; and secretly, you revelled in the worry Steve expressed whenever you spent time with Loki, which the golden-hearted captain feared you did so with a little too much trust.

The only reason why you wouldn’t throw it back to Steve’s face that he was questioning your judgement was the fact he had admitted he did actually not do that, ever – but simply cared for your safety – and that fact that he attempted to be as respectful about it as possible. That and the heartwarming knowledge that he thought of you, one way or the other. Maybe him being the person who was giving out the gentlest hugs could have played a role as well. Or perhaps even that you had – like a silly, silly girl – fallen for him long time ago and would let him not only get away with murder at this point, but probably also ask him if he needed any help to hide the body. Because you’d either believe him it was for a good reason that he had committed the crime, his moral compass just about perfect, or simply because he deserved the most loyal friends and loved ones he could get.

The sudden heavy thud snapped you back to present, causing you to jump in your seat. Steve’s warm hand covered yours in an instant, gaze trailing to you to make sure you were alright. As he gently squeezed your hand, you glanced at him and shot him a grateful smile.

He let go as soon as your gaze returned to the source of the noise: a large closet now standing a few feet from the seating area.

“How about this?” Loki suggested, calmly beckoning to the piece of furniture having just appeared out of this air.

“Do you… want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Wanda, suddenly wide awake at the stronger present of magic, questioned.

“Why not? I was under the impression Midgardians enjoyed this game during a party.”

“What are we, thirteen?” Sam asked, eyebrows creased sceptically.

“…going on thirty? Good movie,” Clint hummed, his grin showing pride at his reference.

“Ew, no-“

“Do you even know what Seven Minutes in Heaven is about?” Natasha asked, her expression intrigued; you had no doubt her mind had already begun to race as she tried to decipher the trickster’s motivations.

“Yes. I am quite pleased by the concept. If we play, perhaps I will be lucky enough to spend some private time with lovely Lady Speedy.”

Your eyebrows shot up as your gaze found Loki’s, a provocative smirk twisting his mouth. Interesting. Maybe even intriguing. Except it was not; at least not for the reason one might think. Loki was not at all interested in you. If he had, you would have known without a shadow of doubt. He wasn’t one for subtlety; if he had had an eye on someone, he would make sure to court them, persistently so. Or perhaps he would simply take.

No, Loki had not spent time thinking of you, much like you hadn’t spent time thinking about him.

There was only one Avenger whose company and love you longed for and had for the longest time – and you wouldn’t be surprised if Loki knew. What you hoped he had no idea about was the fact that you could have had it, once.

You could have had Steve, but you had mucked it up, too shocked to yes when he had asked. It had felt too fast, too surreal to be even happening – Steve Rogers asking you out for a cup of coffee – too good to be true.

Naturally, in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he had been too polite to disrespect your decision or let it negatively impact your blooming friendship back then; he had not made a single attempt to ask you out again since. In return, you had been too embarrassed to explain yourself – to explain that you felt like the luckiest girl on Earth, if not in the universe, that you would have jumped at the chance if he as much as hinted he was still interested – and in a very mature way, you never mentioned it again.

That was fine. You and Steve had become friends. Perhaps even good enough friends to mention it as an awkward memory; and only that, because you doubted that he was still carrying a torch for you. He had even briefly dated with Sharon Carter after the incident; he clearly moved on, because there was nothing to move on from. You had barely known each other back then. It wasn’t like you broke his heart or something. You just decided mess up what could have been a beautiful relationship.

Instead, you had a comfortable caring friendship. That counted as a win, yes?

And if you ended up in a closet with him for seven minutes now, you would, once again, acted like mature adults and… hug or something, yes? You would not give in into some stupid game and kiss him just because you’d have an excuse to do so. You would not be tempted to--- no. You respected Steve too much for that. You would never make anything to make him uncomfortable; if you had, you would not only not deserve to call yourself his friend, but even a decent human being.

And you were not thirteen anymore. You knew better. The awkwardness would not be worth it; the rejection would not be worth it. Losing the gift of Steve’s friendship would most definitely not be worth a few seconds of Heaven, of testing whether his lips were be as soft and gentle as you thought, if they tasted like you dreamed of. Knowing whether he would respond, whether he would kiss you, whether maybe, just maybe, there could be the faintest traces of seeing you differently than a friend and colleague.

No, the stakes were be too high.

“Hm… I think we should play,” Natasha said, earning at least five shocked stares, including yours.

“What?!”

“We should definitely not,” Steve protested, leaning forward with a very displeased frown, his eyes burning as he glared murderously at Natasha for entertaining the trickster’s whim.

“I mean… why not, after all? Two people in a closet, in cramped space? What is not to enjoy?” Bucky added, clearly changing his mind about going to bed. He was next at the receiving end of Steve’s disapproval.

“Ask a claustrophobic, I’m sure they’d come up with a reason or two,” you hummed, earning a sardonic ha ha from the dark-haired supersoldier.

“I mean… who knows. Could be magical,” Tony wiggles eyebrows.

“Are we back to 13 going to 30?”

Wanda, Pepper, Maria and Sam said NO with impressive coordination.

“I must say I am intrigued as I cannot quite see the appeal. It would be an enriching experience for me to understand. What is the worst that can happen?” Vision questioned.

“You did not just ask that,” Sam complained.

“Please tell me it’s just a closet and not some sort of a portal to Narnia?” Pepper chimed in, Loki’s smile surprisingly pleasant as he turned to her.

“It is simply a closet, my dear Lady Potts.”

“I don’t know, you guys, it still sounds like a pretty bad idea,” you chuckled nervously as you felt the air shift towards agreement to participate in this ridiculous game.

“Seconded,” Steve grunted by your side – but it was too late.

“Too bad, I’m getting an empty bottle,” Tony blurted out as he practically sprang after the nearest bottle indeed.

It was the perfect opportunity to walk away; it was the last chance to get out.

You didn’t.

Perhaps you didn’t want to look like a coward. Maybe you didn’t want to be a party pooper. You guessed you hoped they would scrape the idea after one round, because they would realize the game was lame and boring. Maybe, just maybe, a little part of you wondered if something interesting would come out of it – and you didn’t want to miss it.

Those were the things running through your head when you walked side by side with Steve, cursing the universe or some sort of physics cheat Tony had pulled or maybe Loki’s magic. Because of course it happened. Of course, the bottle pointed at you – and then on Steve.  

Could have been worse, you reasoned with yourself. Could have been… yeah you didn’t know who. Bruce who might turn in to the Hulk while in there was asleep, so he never was an option.But it was too late to back out now.

Steve, ever the gentleman, let you walk in first, offering a hand, a gentle smile on his face as he rolled his eyes at your friends being children. You squeezed his hand and smiled back, grateful – and calm.

Yes, being with Steve in such tight space with the knowledge what the game was about sent a few tempting thoughts into your head – but you’d be fine. You’d just chat, privately; you had done that countless times before, late night talks and maybe even your head resting on his shoulder when you got too sleepy to sit straight. You’d be fine.

Steve climbed up after you so you stood face to face, flashing you one last comforting smile. And then Tony closed the door behind you, leaving you in utter darkness.

Your first thought was that the inside of the closet was a lot smaller than it had appeared from the outside.

Your second thought was that perhaps that was not the fault of the closet or your eyes; the sheer width of Steve’s shoulders and other proportions of his body which had starred in too many of your dirty dreams and innocent fantasies alike were to blame instead.

Your third thought was that the air was becoming a little too hot and heavy to breathe a little too fast and that you weren’t certain you could last seven full minutes in this space where it felt you might as well already be wrapped in Steve’s arms. The subtle tones of his woodsy cologne, the heat radiating off his skin, the faintest light peeking through the door reflecting in his slightly ruffled hair and in his eyes, caressing his features the very way you always wished.  

Your fourth thought was, incidentally, less of a thought and more of an emotion – a red hot one at that. The flash of anger that ripped through you honestly took you by surprise, and hit you too hard to be ignored.

Because this was stupid.

This game was the stupidest thing possible that your friends could come up with. Steve was entirely stupid with his brilliance and courage and care and morality and outrageous handsomeness and most of all with giving you hope once that you could be good enough for him, that there was a glitch in the universe large enough that would somehow made the two of a potential couple. And you, oh you. You were the most stupidest of it all. To allow yourself to hope as well. To not let go of that fleeting seconds when the light of Steve Rogers was in your reach and you stood there like a dumbass without grabbing it, never speaking of it again then and yet still carrying a torch for him for two idiotic years.

Maybe if one of those things had been different – most likely of all, you – you could have been making out now. Maybe, you would feel his gentle touch in these shadows; or maybe hungry touch even. Maybe, because your friends were nosy assholes and drama queens, they would have banned you from participating in this in fear that they would have to disinfect the closet after you got full seven minutes in here.

Instead, all you had was a tentative brush of Steve’s hand to your elbow and the kind rumble of his voice, laced with worry.

“Hey, Shines. Are you okay?”

Ah yes. Another maddening thing: Steve’s sweet nickname for you. Where others called you Speedy – because of how quickly you had finished the intelligence test and made your way up in the Initiative – Steve had expressed his distaste in the nickname because just around the same time, he had learned about the modern term “speed”. Apparently, he did not like the idea of calling you something that reminded him of amphetamines. So instead, he had once admitted, he converted it in his head to the speed of light. And so Shines had been born.

The affection he sometimes spoke the single word with – the affection you longed for and mostly only imagined – was perhaps even more idiotic than your lack of reaction to his slightly shy advance two years ago.

For someone with your IQ score, you really were surrounded by stupidity and radiated it generously yourself.

The chuckle that escaped you tasted bitter on your tongue. “Why, sure. You?”

Even with the limited amount of light, you could see Steve’s searching gaze clearly. You could practically hear his mind whirling, wondering where the sudden ire had come from.

In an instant, you felt bad for snapping. Your trouble and your insecurities nor your anger at yourself were something he deserved to bear consequences for.

“I’m… fine,” he said after a while, kinder than you would have in his place. “Is there anything I can do to make the ‘sure’ better?”

Yeah, you thought. There were quite a lot of things; either put his mouth on yours – or elsewhere on your body, you weren’t picky – or maybe stop being so damn good of a person and being so damn loveable all the time when he didn’t mean anything beyond friendship by his behaviour.

You swallowed the once again bitter note and charmed a smile, your hand covering the back of his, still softly resting on your elbow.

“No. But thank you. I’m… sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he replied, eyes still searching. And soft. So annoyingly soft and caring.

You lowered your gaze and gulped, not finding it in yourself to respond. What could you even say to that?

The problem with Steve was that even if you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel him looking at you. At rare times, it felt like a punch, if he got truly angry with you – when you did something he considered stupid and dangerous as if you hadn’t been quite inspired by his own bravery – but at other times, like this, it felt like a fluffy blanket and a warm cup of tea pressed to your hands when the blues came knocking on your door.

No words were spoken for a long minute. And then, like you should have known they would, Steve’s arms carefully pulled you to his chest and wrapped you in a hug which felt just like his gaze a moment ago; except this feeling was real. He sucked up all your anger and frustration you into his chest with ease, breathed in once, then twice and unlike you, he simply let it go, allowing you to soak in his affection instead. 

You could cry at the sweet gesture. Sweet, sweet Steve: deadly force, righteous passion, beautiful soul and infinite kindness locked in a body of a gentle giant.

“Thank you,” you muttered into his shirt and you could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, arms tightening just a fraction.

“Any time.”

You felt your lips curl up in a smile too, allowing yourself to bask in the goodness he was. Strong embrace, but kind. Almost too hot to touch, like a sun, but somehow still feeling like sunshine instead. Lips soft as they touched your hairline, fingers gently running through the length of your hair-

You stiffened. It felt too good; it felt like what you wanted but didn’t actually have. Steve Rogers did not kiss you; not your cheek, not your lips, not your forehead or the crown of your head.

Or at least he never had before.

“Steve?”

His smile was a little bashful as he retreated, his hand sliding down your hair, holding your chin in gentle hold you could easily escape should you want to. But you didn’t. Why would you when his thumb caressed your cheek, eyes firmly holding your gaze even as his smile was slightly shaky?

You didn’t dare to stop whatever this was; because this was what you wanted. Whether this was Steve giving into the game only or anything else, you’d take it. Because you didn’t start it, you didn’t force him into something you wanted. He initiated it; he held you as if you were something precious all on his own. If this behaviour expired in a few minutes, well. At least you would have a sweet memory to cherish, wouldn’t you?

“I’ve been thinking of you.”

Your eyes must have been wide – even ridiculously so – at the admission, your heart like a thunder in your chest and in your ears. You… certainly you must have misheard. You must have misinterpreted what he was trying to say. That was not right. Was it?

“…you have?”

His smile widened, eyes full of good-natured amusement. “I’m always thinking of you, Shines. I’m honestly surprised I’m keeping it so subtle that you are this shocked by the revelation.”

You licked your suddenly dry lips. You must have breathed in something. You had too much to drink. Tony sneaked some edibles into the refreshments – yes, that had to be it.

But then the even more rational part of your brain chimed in: you could never dream up something as detailed. And Steve would have been immune to the drugs. He hadn’t drunk too much of the Asgardian liquor from Thor’s flask either.

You were both perfectly sober at this moment – as insane and surreal as it felt. Did Steve really…? You swallowed the slightly hysterical giggle trying to claw its way up your throat.

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t make fun of this, would you?”

Steve’s eyes grew serious even as they remained kind.

“No. I wouldn’t,” he assured you, the slightest hint of offence in his tone. “You’re just… you’re everywhere. I try to focus on work, but you’re always on my mind. That smile, those pretty eyes. This… this drive and passion you have and turn it into hard and good work and kindness. Those gorgeous, gorgeous lips…”

You licked again them on instinct, not missing the fact that Steve’s gaze flickered down at the motion.

No way. No way.

You had hit your head. This was a fever dream, this… this was all you wanted and needed, it couldn’t possibly become true all of sudden. Right?

But if this was a fever dream, you might as well enjoy it. If it was reality, even the better. Because Steve Rogers was serious in matters of heart – he was most definitely not pranking you. So if he was saying he had been thinking about you, you had no reason to doubt him.

There rarely ever was a reason to doubt Steve Rogers.

“I… I think about you too,” you reluctantly admitted, his lips suddenly so, so close you could feel his breath when he spoke only one word in response.

“Good.”

The first touch to your lips was nothing but tentative; nothing but temptation and yet everything you could ever want. His hand cradled your face like precious porcelain and his kiss was like one of an artist asking his muse to allow him into her favour. Warm and soft; his lips were as soft and gentle as you had always thought they would be. The tender brush of his fingertips to your face however made your first kiss all the sweeter, as did his smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he released your lips. The giddy feeling burst inside your chest with intensity you couldn’t possibly contain.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna have to agree with good,” you whispered; and before you could feel silly, Steve’s low chuckle echoed in the limited space, his thumb tapping your lips.

“Yeah.”

That was the only warning you received before his mouth were back on yours, letting you taste that smile of his; his arms, still around your waist, pulled you closer against the hard planes of his chest, the sensation reminding you that you could in fact too do more than simply lay your hand on him. He appreciated your initiative with a content hum, the vibration against your lips sending pleasant shivers down your spine and into your belly. When he deepened the kiss, his touch on you growing firmer, angling your head to his liking, you felt like you could melt from the inside, all nerves on the most beautiful fire.

Your startled sound when your back bumped into the wall of the closet drowned in Steve’s mouth, your parted lips but an invitation for him. The sensations were quick to rise into your head like a heady wine and suddenly only seven minutes in whichever alternate reality you felt as if you had entered seemed unfairly short. Your fingers flexed in the material of Steve’s shirt, his large palm sliding to your hip and squeezing. His hips rocked ever so slightly against yours and the semi-hard bulge pressing against your core had you whimper his name just as his lips moved to your jaw.

“Love hearing my name like this from your lips, Shines,” he whispered like a secret into your skin, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh and nearly causing your knees to buckle. I’ll say it as much as you want, you wanted to say, the words stuck in your throat, only a breathy Steve coming out again, much to his apparent delight. “That’s it. Wanna hear it more… but not here.”

The flash of a rationality was brief; before it could take, his lips were back on yours and you felt yourself falling, leaning into his touch, hands wandering over his exquisite body, hips rutting forward at the beautiful, beautiful groan your touch elicited from him.

I did that. He wants me, he wants me like this. I want him. I need him.

The simple thoughts occupied your brain, a last portion of coherency you managed as his palm slid to your ass with purpose and pressed you against his hardness in a promise of what was to come. You decided that you could die a happy woman right there and that you needed his mouth on your more than you needed oxygen; you grabbed onto his face, pulling his lips back to yours, rewarded by a deep kiss and both of his hands grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a little too much vigour.

You succumbed to the pleasure of his touch, head spinning, the world passing by in a blur.

It didn’t matter how you got into his room next; it didn’t matter, not when his hands were on you again, an absurdly polite can I? as his dextrous fingers slid the strap of your dress off your shoulder, a kiss to every inch of the newly revealed skin, leaving nothing but hunger for more in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he praised as he mouthed at your skin, the new endearment causing your heart to tremble, stomach fluttering pleasantly. “The times I imagined this, imagined you… turn around, Shines.”

You’d swear that you would let Steve Rogers get away with murder; but asking you to turn away from his hot lips, that was toeing the line of insanity.

“Steve-“

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he cut of your protests, strong hands simply spinning you around.

He rewarded you for the lack of resistance by placing his hand over your stomach, skin hot even over the thin fabric, pressing you back against his chest and his more than evident arousal, lips attaching to the column of your neck, sliding the other strap of your dress down. Instinctively, you leaned your head back, exposing your throat to him, a small but sharp nip of teeth sending a fresh wave of arousal into your core.

Long fingers slid up your throat, turning your head so his lips could meet yours again, demanding and yet so giving, hand inching from your belly down your thigh, toying with the hem of your dress and causing your breath to hitch.

God, you needed him. You wanted him in every way possible, but if this was what came before he’d take you out, you had zero problem with that. You needed to feel him.

The please escaping your newly freed lips sounded almost pathetic to your ears, but Steve clearly disagreed with your assessment.

“Oh sweetheart, you sound so pretty like this… and look at you,” he rasped, nudging you to actually look ahead, only for you to realise you were now facing the tall mirror of his closet, gaze setting on your own face, dominated by the kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown up by lust. “Gorgeous… and you’ll look even more beautiful when you’re coming apart for me. First on my fingers and then…”

You shuddered when his fingers finally slid under your skirt, caressing the lace of your thigh-highs, chest vibrating against your back with an appreciative hum. Your gaze strayed to Steve’s face, only to find his eyes laser focused on your face in the mirror, flashing darkly when his fingertips found the soaked fabric of your panties and pressed.

“So wet for me, Shines. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Can’t wait to make you mine… you want that, don’t you?” he whispered, your lips parting wordlessly and at the very moment, he pushed the offending fabric to the side and dipped his index finger in your slick. He stroked a few times, coating his fingers in your essence and entered you with two with laughable ease. You pushed your hips forward on instinct, already needing more.

“Steve, oh god-“

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, free hand pressing your back to his front, hardness digging into our ass. “I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…”

Vainly wriggling against his strong hold because that was exactly what you wanted, you caught his smile in the mirror, his lips pressing softly against your temple as his fingers begun pumping in and out of your tight channel, stealing the breath from your lungs. Resigned and secretly thrilled by his dominance, you leaned against his chest, letting your head fall back against his strong shoulder, praying he’d give you more soon.

Instead, he pulled his fingers out altogether, painting your inner thighs with your slick, stepping back, leaving you cold and empty.

“St-“

His hand landed gently on your shoulder, his other hand easily sliding the zip of your dress down your back, letting it fall to the ground. Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your stockings, soaked panties and lace bra, you shuddered under Steve’s hungry gaze; but at the same time, the adoration and admiration shining from his gaze even made your stomach flip and stopped your hands from self-consciously covering yourself at least a bit.

You weren’t shy. You weren’t ashamed of your body; but goodness, Steve’s eyes trailing the length of it, taking in every inch of bare skin and appreciative of how the fabric hugged the parts still covered made you feel like a goddess. A muse.

His gaze was hypnotic as his eyes met yours in the mirror again, his smile soft before it earned a lustful edge.

“You’re a piece of art, Shines…” He stepped back to you, lips attaching back to your neck and his fingers pushed the panties down and let them slide down your legs, hand sprawling over your pubic bone and teasing your core with his fingers again. “And I’m going to appreciate that in every way I know… but you’re gonna watch. I wanna watch you as you fall apart for me, and I want you to see how beautiful you look when I make you mine. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t think. You nodded at the promise of pleasure, instantly rewarded by three fingers stretching you, one of your hands landing on his wrist to keep him inside, the other grabbing at his head behind you. You felt his smile against your neck before he sucked on your skin, setting a punishing pace, this time letting you meet his advances. The sight of his large hands over you was insanely erotic; his size and strength captured in a repetitive picture, your muscles contracting as you tried to encourage him to give your more. The pleas seamlessly blending with his name were falling from your lips as the pressure inside you built and built, the wicked curl of his fingers nearly having you reach for the stars.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Steve-“  

“Watch, sweetheart,” he reminded you feverishly, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by his blown pupils, dark, pleased and unabashedly on you taking his fingers one moment, on your face contorted with pleasure next, the sheer hunger in his gaze aimed at you only adding fuel to the heat in your abdomen.

You tried to keep your eyes on your pair, you truly did, just to please him, just to gain more. It earned you a whispered praise to your ear, a sucking kiss on your throat and circling motions on your clit.

That had you were done for. Your eyes fluttered close as you clenched around Steve’s fingers with a breathless cry, ecstasy exploding inside you and lighting your body on fire.

You could feel Steve’s burning gaze on your still, but he didn’t push you again, didn’t deny you just because you didn’t give him what you couldn’t at the moment, too wrapped in your bliss. Of course, he didn’t. He was still Steve; much filthier than you imagined, but still himself. Warm and safe, holding you close when his motions slowed down, prolonging your pleasure, still supporting your weight when your legs nearly gave out. Chuckling silently with an adoring soft kiss to your jaw when you breathed out a thank you, thinking about the fact he caught you, probably sounding as if you were thanking him for absolutely ruining you with his fingers only, not so subtly showing you that you might not survive when he’d turn it up a notch and actually took you.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he whispered into your hair, carefully pulling out his fingers as not to hurt you. “Even more beautiful that I imagined.”

You shuddered, unable to respond with words, turning around and chasing his lips instead. He obliged and kissed you sweetly, wrapping his arms around you close, only now having you realize he was still fully clothed himself. And that the way his had cock pressed against his slacks must have been painful at this point. For that reason alone – that he put your pleasure before his, as you knew he would – you would sink to your knees in an instant if your core wasn’t already throbbing for him.

“I want you,” you said against his mouth, revelling in his smile and the playful nip on your lower lip he graced you with upon your admission.

“Good. Because I need you. I need to see those pretty lips parted for me and unable to speak anything but my name when I fill you up so well you’ll never even think about another man again,” he said slowly, letting every heavy syllable sink into your skin and have your already racing heart nearly give out – and letting your lips loose.

“Yes. Please.”

When you suddenly found yourself in the air, held firmly in his arms and carried to the bed, you couldn’t find the shame in you to be bashful about your needs.

Because when he sunk into you and delivered on his promises, you felt like you entered another plane of existence. When his hands grabbed onto you, his body an art piece you could feast your eyes on and touch, you suddenly understood his need for a mirror, for a glimpse from every angle, the absolute beauty of your bodies together as one, of seeing him lose himself to pleasure of his own.

His chants of endearments, praise and mine echoed in your ears, your lips indeed only remembering to speak his name, whisper it and scream it. When he lifted you to your high two more times, filling you with his spent to make you his indeed, you knew that you would be his forever; you had been for a long, long time.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…”

“Yours, I am yours.”

Blinking your eyes open, you slowly realized you never knew darkness could feel so violent to your eyes. Steve’s deeply concerned gaze was firm on you, frown settled in his brows, both hands on your biceps holding you as if you were about to pass out any second.

His relieved breath brushed over your face, shoulders sagging.

“Thank god, Shines. I was starting to get worried. Are you alright? It’s like you went to a completely different place for a moment there.”

Why were you standing? You had been just lying down, the heat of Steve’s skin seeping into yours from your back and his arm wrapped around your middle as you had fallen asleep.

“What?” you rasped, feeling the ghost of the soreness in your throat as you nearly lost your voice having screamed his name. You blinked again as the image of his beautifully red parted lips trembling with your name flickered in front of you, disappearing just as fast – replaced by him growing worried by the minute.

In a closet. You were in a closet. The sound of idly chat and chuckles dimmed by the walls of the closet reached your ears. The party was still in a sleepy swing; a stupid game was still on.

The realization was like a bucket of icy water dumped on your heated body, all-consuming confusion swallowing all your thoughts.

But… how? You--- that wasn’t- you had been to Steve’s room. He had—- he had kissed you, right here, a dream coming true when he admitted he was still thinking of you and was ready to act on it, his hot soft lips, his hands, deliciously long thick fingers, wickedly dextrous as they sneaked between your legs, opened you up for his--- he had stretched you so good, in every way imaginable, his gaze so dark as he watched you both in the mirror, so sweetly and devilishly delighted at filling you up to the brim, making you his-  

“Okay, that’s it, Shines. We’re out of here-”

“No!” you blurted out, horror seizing you at the mere thought of coming out to the light right now. With you face flushed; with your core painfully empty and slick even as the aftershocks of your orgasms, having felt so real, turned from echo of pleasure to mortifying all-consuming shame. “No, no, it’s fine! I’m fine. I just… I must have had too much to drink and zoned out.”

“You didn’t drink that much,” Steve opposed swiftly, his gaze so unnerving, and could he just stop, stop looking at you like he cared, so sweet and nice and so frustratingly not yours even if the affection in his gestures felt all the same as in whatever fucked-up dream experience you just had just been through. “We should-“

“Please, don’t-- they’re never gonna let us live this down if we bail,” you argued lamely, unconvincing even to your own ears, feeling tears burn in your eyes and desperately trying to stop them from showing.

“Fuck that. It’s just a stupid game.”

‘Fuck, look at you. I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…’ echoed in your ears, so crystal clear you would have sworn it had happened – but what other evidence did you need that it was just a wild creation of your mind?

Steve didn’t love you. Steve didn’t want you this way. It had never happened. You were still in this closet in the dark, blinded by the light his persona, this time annoyed since the light only hurt your eyes.

And you heart. Your stupid little foolish heart.

“…yeah. Yeah, just a stupid game. Just… so so stupid,” you muttered, no longer talking about the game – and unable to stop the tears from coming anymore.

You laughed bitterly, understanding nothing, but not caring, even more irked at the alarmed expression on Steve’s face when he noticed the few glistening drops rolling down your cheeks.

“Shines… what is it? What can I do to make it better?”

His hands, having been burning a brand onto your biceps, shifted, one caressing your arm, the other rising to your face; and you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the touch, not when it meant less than what you wanted and needed, not when his fingertips brushed your cheek as if it was something precious to him – not when you knew it wasn’t.

You stepped back out of his reach hastily, your back hitting the wall; but not without catching the flash of hurt on his face when you rejected the affection and comfort he was offering.

“I’m sor-“ The words died in your throat, the sudden almost electric shift in the air making your hair stand on end.

As fast as if you snapped your fingers, Steve was no longer looking at you.

In fact, he wasn’t looking at anything.

Your stomach dropped.

“…Steve?”

Your whisper was tentative, but your step forward was not. Heart thundering in your chest, your eyes roamed his suddenly expressionless face. What the hell was happening?

Gulping, you reached out for his hand with yours; but as you squeezed, his hand remained limp by his side.

“Steve, can you hear me?”

Frustration and shame swiftly forgotten, your fingers slid to his wrist, feeling for his pulse. It fluttered under your touch like a hummingbird; but with how fast your own heart was beating, it might have been that you could feel your own.

You went to a completely different place for a moment there, you recalledhis words, real words, right after you found him observing you with concern rather than pulling you to his bare chest after an intense session of fucking.

Whatever had happened to you, be it blamed on alcohol or anything else, was clearly happening to him now. That or you accidentally triggered some kind of a flashback with the way you had reacted. If you had, you’d never forgive it yourself; but you’d have time to feel like an asshole later. Now, Steve needed your help. Fast.

Except you had no idea what was actually taking place in here, let alone how to solve it.

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

You were not going to stay here another second. Not when Steve, sweet kind Steve who deserved the world, was stuck in some strange trance you might have caused.

You were just about to bang on the door of the closet with all your might when a gasp for air had your head snap back to Steve so quickly you almost gave yourself a whiplash.

Your hands were on his arms to steady him before you could think about it twice. Relief flooded your body when his gaze unmistakably found yours, even if he stared at your wide-eyed, clearly rattled by whatever had just happened.

“Shines?” he rasped, blinking a few times as if to adjust his sight to the darkness again, following the lines of your arms to where you were holding onto him with confusion. You swiftly dropped your hands, his frown only deepening at that.

“Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I--- I think so?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the suddenly unreadable emotion in his face made a lump grow in your throat.

“Yeah, the fact that this sounds more like a question than an answer really tells me you were right,” you stated, feeling small as you saw Steve had trouble finding his footing. As his friend, you had the privilege to see him vulnerable more often than the general public, but that didn’t mean the fact he seemed clueless and slightly lost now was still unsettling. “We should get out of here, right now. You were staring blank ahead for at least a minute. You really scared me, Steve.”

His eyebrows shot up as he learned that was what happened.

“I was…? That’s what-- you scared me too. You were staring into space before too... What happened to you in that time?” Steve queried, gently despite obviously being affected himself. “Do you… do you remember any of it?”

You let out a small distressed noise, heat of shame flooding your body all over again.

Yeah, no. You were not going to tell him what exactly happened, regretfully only in your head.

You rarely lied so blatantly, less so to Steve, but these were desperate times. You’d rather keep at last some of your dignity.

You licked your lips. “I… I just zoned out. And then suddenly you were here, asking if I was sure I was okay. You?”

His eyes searched your face for a moment as if he could sense your lie – or at least lack of complete honesty. Yet, he didn’t press, swallowing loudly instead and giving you a shaky smile.

“…yeah. Yeah, same. That was… strange.”

No kidding. You believed him losing consciousness the way he had was strange indeed.

Except when you zoned out, you dreamed of a world where Steve railed you into oblivion while watching you both in a mirror. Until now, you thought that shoving you against a wall and hauling you up in those enormous arms and railing you like that would be more than enough to satisfy your cravings, but apparently you were wrong. But never mind that, right? You could be flexible… flexible enough, in more ways than just one. God knew sex with a man as fit as Steve might require some stretching.

You licked your lips again, mouth feeling dry at the memory. And yet. It wasn’t all a memory. He still was so close, watching so intently. Almost as if… no.

You laughed without a trace of humour.

“Yeah, well, maybe Stark laced the walls with something when he was closing the door-“ your voice trailed off, eyes growing wide as you entertained the wild thought. “Actually, you know what, I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

Honestly, it would be a perfectly plausible explanation. In fact, you wanted that to be the explanation; it shifted the blame. You and Tony could share the blame for the inappropriate images still flashing in your mind at least.

Not to mention that theorizing was the most welcomed distraction you could get in the tiny space growing hotter by the minute, full of Steve’s masculine scent seeping into your skin and making your underwear even damper by the second.

“Hm…” Steve hummed, intrigued, his concern melting into outrage. “Loki suggested the game and made the closet. Whatever happened could be on him.”

You frowned at the implication, instinctively protective of the god of mischief; Tony was the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shenanigans using precisely the fact Loki might end up being blamed while he’d laugh his ass off.

“Tony didn’t exactly protest, maybe he just jumped at the chance.”

“Hold on a second… do you think they would team up? To deliver some sort of an advanced Halloween prank?”

Your first instinct was to say no. The thought was absurd. Loki and Tony tolerated each other at best, Tony being one of the people having the hardest time forgiving Loki for the destruction he had once caused… when it suited him. Other times… well.

“I’m…” you hesitated, “I’m not sure, actually. But I know I’m not laughing.” For sure.

Steve face was serious as he observed you, worry creeping into his expression again – you only hoped he forgot all about your earlier outburst, even as you were aware that was very unlikely.

“Can’t say I do. Once we’re out, this game is over.”

“Yeah, good idea,” you agreed instantly. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

He seemed a little flushed, a little shell-shocked still. Then again, you imagined you did too. At least you hoped you did; you hoped Steve couldn’t read you like a book… and you hoped Wanda was smart enough not to enter your mind while you were in here.

Oh god, Wanda.

“Yeah… but that’s only cause it’s not a terrible imposition to be here with you of all people,” Steve said lightly, a ghost of a genuine smile curling up his lips, an unvoluntary smirk passing over yours at his choice of words.

“Well, I’m honoured not to be a terrible imposition to you, Captain,” you sassed, unable to stop the warmth spreading in your chest. “I suppose there are worse people to get stuck with.”

“Such a compliment,” he threw back readily, eyes twinkling. Minutely – and you would swear it – his gaze flickered to your lips.

You heart started racing. You only imagined it. There was no way. Was there? Or…?

“Shines, I… there’s something I think I should tell you,” Steve said slowly, voice turning surprisingly soft.

You blinked, the feeling of déjà-vu hitting you like a train. You had to be dreaming again. There was no way he said those words, not so tenderly, not-

The door opened so suddenly you had to squint against the flood of light; light as harsh as the truth, overtaking all of your senses.

You stumbled out of the tight space with a deep breath, the colder air sobering you up fast.  Whatever Steve was about to say, it didn’t matter; it was probably your mind playing tricks on you again and if it wasn’t, it was probably just words of consolidation he came up with at the spot, an attempt to sooth whatever had bothered you before. Nothing more.

Because whatever you had fantasied about in the closet, it was just that: a fantasy. True, one you weren’t aware you had, but a fantasy nonetheless.

Steve had long moved on from asking you out two years ago. Whatever could have been, you had missed your chance then; he was just being friendly. He tried to offer comfort, because that was what he did. Even when you hurt him by your rejection of it, even when he was rattled himself by whatever he had experienced, he tried to comfort you again what could be two minutes later, because that was what good friends did.

Not a terrible imposition – that was what he said, after all. Even as you knew he probably chose the words on purpose to distract you and amuse you, it was not exactly a declaration of love. There was nothing but friendship between you, not from his side and that meant you would keep it that way unless you were ready to risk it all.

Which was going to be never.

As Steve firmly announced that the game was over, contrary to the booing from several Avengers, you wondered what it would take to rename the stupid activity to Seven Minutes in Hell.

Part 2

Steve Rogers masterlist 

Complete masterlist

Thank you for reading 🥰 I hope you had fun! Leave feedback if you have the energy and time, we love interaction in this house💕

I suppose this is where you could end it, but you won't find the what the heck actually happened and how - and what will happen next 👀 I hope to post part 2 soon since it's almost done 🎃 If you enjoyed and wish to be tagged, let me know :)

Prompt: 7 Minutes in… Where?: You know the game. Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else.

Many thanks for Jamie for hosting this challenge and stirring this sleepy fandom to life 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers lemons #steve rogers #captain america #JamiesHalloween2023 #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #seven minutes #anika ann

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 9 – AUs

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: betheflame

Flame is the queen of fluff in my book. Her fics are like little pieces of candy, and no matter which one you choose, they're all delicious. I love the way she explores different AUs and makes them her own, especially the No Powers variety. So if you're looking for some treats, you're in the right place.

Here's some of her work that I think you should check out:

Have You Met My... Husband?

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Bucky/Natasha Rating: M Words: 7,317 Tags: School Reunion, Fake Relationship, Mutual Pining

Summary: Steve's high school reunion is coming up and for reasons that make no sense except in fic, Tony goes with him and poses as his husband. ... and things progress from there ...

Reasons why I love it: Natasha and Pepper really steal the show in this one, what with their meddling ways. Honestly, Steve and Tony need all the outside help they can get, my god, idiots in love is exactly right. I really love the humor in this one, and Bucky and Natasha's banter especially. This fic is adorable, and I hope you give it a shot!

Crouching Genius, Hidden Soulmate

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,276 Tags: Bucky Barnes is a Good Bro, Soulmates, No Powers

Summary: “We’re going to chat about that imaginary numbers bullshit, Stark,” Bucky said with a laugh, “but right now, come with me.” “Where?” “Downstairs,” Bucky said, offering his hand. “I’m about to change your life.” Tony barked out a laugh. “Okay Angelica.”

Reasons why I love it: You had me at Angelica. This fic is so sweet! I love all the little tidbits like Rhodey and Pepper's daughter and Steve's career that really flesh out the world. And of course, I'm a huge fan of Hamilton playing a major role in this fic. I love this one so much, so I hope you give it a shot (and don't throw it away, badum tz).

Paper Crowns and Secret Keepers

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,564 Tags: No Powers, A/B/O, Teacher Steve

Summary: Steve Rogers did not play favorites. He’d been one of the kindergarten teachers at Allensville Academy since he got out of graduate school and that was one of his key pedagogical beliefs - no playing favorites. But lands alive, if Peter Stark wasn’t testing his resolve.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaaaah not Flame subverting expectations in the best possible way, I am LIVING! Tony the not-alpha just breaks your heart once you learn about the circumstances that made his secrets necessary, and I love the political undertones throughout the fic in general. Also, Mairi (Askafroa) made some truly fantastic art for this that you desperately need to see if you haven't already, it's the cutest! This fic is amazing, and I hope you check it out for yourself!

A Totally Normal Dad

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,103 Tags: Identity Porn, Parenting, Canon Divergence

Summary: Steve is a totally normal, boring, suburban, stay-at-home-dad. He's also a superhero. His husband only knows the first sentence.

Reasons why I love it: The Incredibles, but make it Stony. I really love how this ties into canon, and oh my god, that paragraph about Steve wanting to grow old with Tony made me genuinely emotional. Also, Steve and Tony are so sweet with Peter, it makes me want to cry. This fic is amazing, and I highly encourage you to read it!

Wax On, Wax Off

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,354 Tags: No Powers, College AU, Merman Steve

Summary: Sure, a man could fall in love with a merman - but where would they make out?

Reasons why I love it: They're so fucking cute, ugh, I love them. Tony doing his level best to make life more comfortable for Steve is so sweet, and oh my god, the ending puts the biggest smile on my face. I also love the way Steve's merman-ism works and the cameos of the other Avengers in texting-form. This fic is delightful, and I hope you give it a go!

#marvel #stony #fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #ficrec #a year in fanfic recs #AUs

[slayerchick303]

*SECRET INVASION FINALE SPOILERS*

I just finished Home, and I have some thoughts:

Rhodey was in a hospital gown when he got out of the pod! I swear to all that is holy, if they have him been replaced by a skrull after his injury in Civil War, I will march on Disney headquarters! That would cheapen Tony's death, funeral, and Rhodey's amazing conversation with Sam in Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I said I'd freak out if they made the swap previous to FATWS, and I meant it!

Gravik's human face was a man he killed, so I'm assuming the same is true for G'iah. If she is indeed going to be Abigail Brand as leaks have suggested (meaning Abigail Brand is dead), I'm going to be mad! Like legitimately disappointed. Brand is one of my favorite parts of the Astonishing X-Men comics run. I ship her and Beast so hard.

When was Everett Ross swapped? It has to have been after Black Panther because he would've reverted to his skrull form after being shot and/or Shuri would've noticed while healing him. Has a skrull infiltrated Wakandan leadership?! How many? For how long? Because that's BAD. Imagine the havoc skrulls could wreak with Wakanda's resources.

The CGI in this was pretty good. Especially compared to other recent Disney+ titles. That being said, I hate a lot of how they used it. Giving G'iah a huge Drax arm?! Bad choices in multiple ways: A.) the big Drax arm looked so weird as did other things. B.) do they think Marvel fans are too stupid to get what they were doing if they didn't make her arm huge? They should've kept Emilia's arm the same size, only given her Drax's tattoos and skin color at most. We would've understood. C.) the clothing changed too! How does that make sense?

Is Gravik really dead, though? Is Raava? We don't know if Raava has super skrull powers, but Gravik had like EVERYTHING. That seems like it should make him pretty invincible.

How did people not clock how off Rhodey was? There was like an enormous change in his personality. Raava was a jerk!

So, Fury and Sonya only tranqed those secret service members at the hospital. That wouldn't automatically make them revert, right, or every skrull would be outed when they fell asleep. If all those guards were humans, they were legitimately the worst security detail ever. That one guy literally listened to SkrullRhodey pretty much out herself and did nothing. He didn't even warn the president Rhodey was acting uncharacteristically. Every member of White House personale will have to be tested somehow. Maybe check for purple blood?

I really thought Ritson would die at the end. I guess he's just awful (which is unsurprising). I'm glad he won't be president much longer, as Harrison Ford is taking over the role of President Thaddeus Ross in Captain America: Brave New World. That being said, part of me worries that President Ross might be even worse than Ritson.

I kind of loved Varra and Fury's ending. It redeemed the awful, "I guess we'll never know moment."

****EDIT:**** I didn't think about this at the time, but I saw someone else bring it up. G'iah has Captain Marvel powers now! Doesn't that mean she should be caught up in the entanglement mess Captain Marvel, Photon, and Miss Marvel are dealing with in The Marvels?! That's an ENORMOUS plot hole. Not to mention, G'iah is ridiculously overpowered now. People complain about how powerful Superman is, and G'iah is so much worse.

I enjoyed Secret Invasion, even if it wasn't the best Disney+ show. The comics are still WAY better. Regardless, I'm looking forward to The Marvels even more now.

#secret invasion spoilers #secret invasion #disney marvel #disney plus #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvelcomics #marvel comics #marvel #disney #nick fury #skrulls #the marvels #g'iah #abigail brand #emilia clarke #samuel l jackson #sonya falsworth #olivia colman #priscilla fury #varra #everett ross #martin freeman #mcu

[muddyorbsblr]

man of the month part 1: convince them

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Tony tells the team that they're making a "Men of the Avengers" calendar, and you're the photographer. Will that be enough to convince the 11 men you've chosen to come on board?

Pairing: Loki x Reader (eventually)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: light cussing [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: mutual pining; idiots in love; there's a non-Avenger "guest star" in this chapter (it'll make sense when you get to that part)

"There's no way you'll get them to agree to this," you grumbled. It was way too early in the morning for Stark to have pulled you aside with his "genius idea" for a charitable fundraising activity that'd be a collaborative effort among multiple members of the team. 

The activity? A calendar of the men of the Avengers. Tony thought it was genius since it turned the stereotype on its head that the people who bought calendars were leery guys who bought them for the pictures of scantily clad women, or aged women who only bought specifically the plain and bland red & white calendars you could find in the bookstores. 

"Well that's why I recruited you for this project, Tweety. You'll convince them," he replied with a cheeky wink, which you only had the mental energy at the moment to respond to with a furrow of your eyebrows and a head tilt that could make him confuse you with a puppy. "It's no secret that half the guys on this team have the hots for you; you can get them to do anything."

"We all know it's true, Scopes," Sam joked from beside you. "And even if we can't get these guys to all agree, we have buffers. We got my man Vishawn—"

"For the endth time, Sam, that's not how you say his name," Wanda quipped as she entered the main conference room, hand in hand with her partner. 

"Yeah, Sam, I should know. Our rooms are next to each other and she screams it for at least two and a half hours every damn night––" You cut off your own words with a giggle as Wanda lightly smacked you upside the head. 

"There's also Parker. Or Steven."

"No no," you protested. "Not Steven. We want him we'd need every one of them to be on board. The entire system. At all times. One of them changes their mind that's it, all their shots get benched." 

"That's an excellent point, Tweety. And that's exactly why I picked you for this. You see the details, the nuances, as well as the big picture. Let's wait for everyone to get in here and we can really get started."

You eyed the list of names you, Tony, and Sam had brainstormed. At least half of them had a high chance of saying no: Banner, Rogers, Barnes, Rhodey, and Barton all struck you as hesitant to pose for something this ridiculous. And then of course there was Loki. He would definitely say "no".  

Throughout the next fifteen minutes, the conference room filled up with everyone on the team, Natasha sitting beside you and using your shoulder as a pillow and grumbling something about how if she didn't get at least a few more seconds of sleep she'd strangle Tony with her bare hands. Wanda tried to bribe Sam into vacating the seat he seat he currently occupied beside you to no avail, and you were currently having trouble looking straight ahead because leaning against the wall right across from you was Loki. 

Tony stood up from the head of the table. "I know that some of you are wondering why I called in a meeting this early." There were a few grumbled agreements all throughout the room. "I had a meeting with PR and they told me that even though the charity galas we hold here in the tower are  great and raise a shit ton of money, we're going to need to create something that's a little less…exclusive." 

"Tony it's way too damn early for me to get your euphemisms," Rhodey grumbled. 

"He means something that's accessible by people who aren't the rich and famous," you offered, earning a thumbs up from Stark. 

"This is why we love you, Scopes. Thank you." He gave you a little pat on the head. "So what's this 'more accessible' idea of yours, Stank?" 

"A Men of the Avengers calendar," the billionaire announced. "This is the list of the guys that Sam, Tweety, and I have brainstormed before the meeting started. And before you all say no, give us a chance to convince you." 

The idea of posing for something so trivial and fleeting didn't appeal to Loki, making him want to refuse the entire ordeal right this moment and retreat back to his chambers. However, Stark's mention of you being even partially responsible for the spearheading of this endeavor gave him pause. Perhaps he could stay a little longer, allow you all the attempt to convince him to not refuse.

Though if he were being honest with himself, his agreement was dependent on how involved you would be in the creation of this. How much time of yours he could monopolize if he were to agree with this. Perhaps know more about you, see if you were open to the idea of entering a courtship with him. 

Stark motioned to you as if he expected you to start speaking, to be the one to convince the room to agree to this keeper of dates. You cleared your throat, clearing your cup of the remainder of your coffee and then began to address everyone in the room. "It's no secret that some of you have some enormous fanbases." You craned your head to address the other men in the room. "Shaun, Bucky, Cap, Strange, Lang, Wilson--"

"Lil ole me??" Wilson feigned humility and did a few exaggerated movements that made you giggle, making the god stew in his own skin. He wanted to be able to elicit a reaction that carefree from you. And yet somehow all he could ever manage to do was make you stare at the floor, refusing to even look upon him.

"Yes, Sam, you have a fanbase, too," you said rolling your eyes at him. "And then there's Thor's which is…hoof yours kinda gives me a bit of pause there, buddy," you chuckled. "And don't get me started on Loki's." 

"Mine?" 

You look up at him, his breath catching as your eyes locked with his. Norns, what he would give to be able to wake in the morning and look into your eyes. To see how the morning light would set your features aglow. 

"Yeah. Mischief, you have an army. An apocalyptic society," you told him with a smirk. "Some might even say a cult, worshipping something about a…mango? Honestly, Loki, I think you might have the biggest."

"That's what she said," the newcomer from San Francisco, Shaun, commented and had the whole room chuckling, except for you. Loki exchanged a look with his brother, the joke clearly flying above both of their heads. 

"What who said?" another newcomer from the same city, Scott Lang, asked as he walked into the room. 

"Tweety said that Reindeer Games has 'the biggest'," Stark answered, making Lang glance down at the raven-haired god's crotch. 

"Fucking dammit that's not what I meant!" you exclaimed, the frustration rife on your resplendent face. 

"That might not be what you meant, Y/N," Lang started. "But that doesn't mean that it isn't true." 

He watched as you buried your head in your arms, groaning the same words as Romanoff rubbed circles on your back. "Can we all just move on, please?" you mumbled. "I wanna go back to sleep. Desperately." Everyone ceased their chortles and you raised your head again, the calmness jarring him. "Thank you. So…big fanbases, right? Big fanbases equals…big potential market." 

"But what would this be? We'd be in our suits?" Barton queried your way. "Seems to me like no one would buy that if they can just get those pictures off the internet." 

"Cupid here has a point," Wilson assented. "There's this guy who made a calendar a few years back. Called it Tasteful Nudes. What if we could do what he did? Who could resist all this--" He started posing next to you, flexing his biceps and once again making you chuckle. "Multiplied by a dozen? We'd be selling them by the millions." 

"I like where you're going with this, Sam, I do. But before we even start looking into this…would you all be comfortable with that?" There were some protestations murmured throughout the room. "That's fine. Just tell me how far you're comfortable with and we can find a way to make that work. Still make it…y'know…kinda sexy." 

"Why would we be informing you of our levels of comfort, Lady Y/N?" his brother asked, showing clear curiosity as he glanced your way. 

"Because I'd be the photographer. Stark doesn't trust this to be leaked if we hired someone outside of this circle. I have some experience in amateur photography from back in college--"

"Plus she's got the hands of a sniper and she's the least likely to jump on…most of your dicks," Stark cut her off, his choice of words making a few of the men in the room straighten their backs. Most? So whoever you'd set your sights on was already in this room? Whoever he heard you speaking of when you confided in your friends that you'd caught feelings for another was among the members of the team? 

"Anyway," you stressed. "Because of the nature of the photos, assuming we'd really be toeing the line of these…tasteful nudes? And also because of Stark's and my concerns for your collective privacy, yes, I will be the photographer. So I need to know what level of nudity y'all would be comfortable with and I need you to agree to even pose for this--"

You were cut off by the collective agreement of most of the names on the list, some of them expressing that they were uncomfortable with taking off articles of their clothing but they trusted you enough. Others looking more than ready to be even some degree of naked in the same space as you.

He, on the other hand, was wiling to be completely naked around you if that was what you wished. And he was more than ready for the opportunity to spend time in a quiet room with you. And only you. 

"That was surprisingly easy," you commented. "So we have everyone on board except…Mischief." Loki's attention snapped back to the present moment, and out of vivid tantalizing fantasies of you and him being without clothes. On a bed. His bed.

"Yes, darling?" He mentally stabbed himself calling you such a name in the presence of others. He only meant to call you that in the rare occasion you two would converse alone, never wishing for the rest of the team to have something to hold against him, let alone something as deeply personal to him as his affections toward you.

"A-Are you on board? F-for the calendar?" you stammered, the pit settling in his stomach once more because for some unknown reason, he'd made you uncomfortable. Again. Like he always did. 

"Yes." This endeavor seemed important to you, and despite the jokes made at your expense, he was able to infer that his involvement would have the potential to contribute greatly to the success of your project. Truthfully, he cared not to do this for Stark or for the public image of the team. Or his fanbase, as you called it, and their enjoyment over the photos that would result from this.

He was going to do this for you. 

There were many things that went by unnoticed by Thor when it came to his brother, for truly the god of mischief was an enigma to him. Almost impossible to read. The exception, however, was reading how he behaved when it came to you. It was no secret to him that Loki harbored feelings for you, potentially deep feelings that had him wonder if perhaps his brother's happiness was somehow hinged upon yours. 

So seeing him agree so quickly to something that he knew Loki would otherwise view as too trivial for his attention made the god of thunder realize that he was going to do this in the hopes of being able to spend some time with you. And he made a decision right then and there that when his appointment with you came, he would do everything in his power to make you see how great of a man his brother would be for you.

"A catch", as how your people would call it.

"Okay so, this guy who made that calendar, do you know his name, Wilson?" you asked the falcon man seated next to you. He shook his head and you shrugged, typing away on your computer. "Let's see…tasteful nudes calendar, two thousand and--Got him. His name's Mark Edward Fischbach,  runs a pretty successful YouTube channel named 'Markiplier'…? Holy shit…this guy's not nearly 34 million people subscribed to him." 

"How much did he end up selling?" Stark asked you. You typed away for a few more moments and you had your answer.

"Over half a million dollars. He sold over thirty-seven thousand calendars. We could meet these numbers--Actually fuck that, we could beat these numbers no problem. Let's go see what his looked like--Holy hell goddamn." Thor noted that his brother's jaw had tensed once you uttered those last few words. "This guy's ripped! He could probably go up against Clint and--well he'd still lose but he'd probably be able to get a punch or two in before he went down. Kinda cute, too…" 

"You think you can stop gawking at his nakedness for ten seconds to see if you can get some contact info, Y/N?" Wilson asked you in a teasing manner. "Maybe we could consult him? I mean he's done this before so maybe--"

"Say less. On it." You typed a bit more and suddenly there was a ringing tone that echoed off the room. 

"Hello?" a deep voice answered. Nearly as deep as his own, Thor noticed. "Who is this and how did you get this number?" You turned to Wanda's direction, mouthing Oh my fuck his voice?! and started fanning yourself with your hand. 

"Mr Fischbach? This is Agent Y/N Y/L/N of SHIELD. I work with the Avengers. We came across your erm…Tasteful Nudes Calendar? And we'd--"

"Ha. Right. You're Y/N Y/L/N? Scopes? Sure, and I'm fucking Iron Man. Nice try, whoever you are, you even got to hack my phone but if you expect me to believe--"

"Okay you want proof, pretty boy?" You started typing on your computer again. "Here's your proof." In a moment a man's face was projected onto your screen, showing that you were in what the Midgardians termed a…Face Call? Time Face?  "Here's your proof. Believe me now?" 

"Oh holy fuck, you really are Scopes. I'm so sorry, Miss Y/L/N, sarcasm's my default setting and god DAMMIT you’re pretty—"

You giggled, the sound making Loki's jaw visibly tense even more. "Thanks," you chuckled. "Uhm…So anyways, we came across your calendar from a few years back and we're trying to create something kind of similar to it, so we were wondering if we could consult you on things like logistics, operations…suppliers. Those kinds of things. Since, you know, you've done this before?" 

"Absolutely!" the plier man sounded very excited to be speaking with you. "Anything for my favorite Avenger." His words made your friends give you a look, wiggling their eyebrows at you. "Hold on…you guys are gonna do Tasteful Nudes?"

"That's right." 

"Are you modeling?"

"Uhh…no," you chuckled. "I'm the photographer. It's…just the guys. And it's not 'Tasteful Nudes' it's more of 'whatever you're comfortable with and I'll find a way to make it sexy'."

"Damn," he muttered. "I mean with you as a photographer, I kinda wanna make another one. If you're available to shoot?" 

Thor noticed that your smile had shown amusement, so much so that your dimple had began to show. "Sadly this will most likely be a one time thing, and not something I'm actually offering up as a side hustle. I really did just reach out for like…pointers? Starting with…well, how'd you get started?  Tools? Procurement? Things like that?" 

"Well a pointer I can give you for the actual shoot is to have music on hand." You began to scribble down notes on a piece of flimsy Midgardian parchment, the kind that his brother wouldn't approve of. "For the comfort  of the model…models? Kind of get them relaxed, in the zone. Though I doubt you'll need to do much work since having such a beautiful photographer in front of them." 

He could see his brother seething. Had this been one of those cartoon shows on the television, he could imagine his skin glowing red and steam coming out from his ears. He twirled Mjolnir in his hand once, the sound drawing your attention to him and he gave you a signal as if to say "look around the room, little one", which you did, and returned to your conversation after a single nod.

"That's--really sweet of you. But in the spirit of full transparency, I do have to tell you that at the moment I'm in a conference room with the rest of the team and you're currently on speaker, so I'm gonna have to advise you, in the interest of your own health and safety, you might wanna dial down the whole charming…flirty energy." You leaned closer to your computer. "Some of them look about ready to strike you to the high heavens. Some of them even could."

"Shit. When you say everyone you mean--"

"Everyone," you confirmed. 

"Fuck. That's my bad. I'm sorry, Loki." 

The look you gave the man on your screen could only be described with one word: perplexed. As for his brother? A smirk had formed on his face.  The rest of the room, however, looked as confused as you were. In truth, Thor was taken aback at the plier man's apology. To him it was obvious, his brother's affections towards you. He didn't realize that to others outside of the team, it could also be quite evident.

"Anyway," you started once more. "After music?" 

"Right. Well there's location. You'd need a vast space for you to have multiple setups, since I'm going to assume you're not gonna green screen anything?" You nodded. "And then someone to edit the pictures for fine tuning, airbrushing--"

"I can assure you we're not gonna need to fine tune or airbrush anyone's abs," you chuckled, causing him to let out a bellowing laugh as well. "As for space…Tony, do we have any empty floors in the tower that we could set up a studio in?" 

"There should be some. Take your pick, Tweety." 

"Sweet. Let's figure out what the sets will be later." You turned back to the man on your screen. "Anything else?" 

"Lighting. Soft boxes, overhead lights, fairy lights, anything you can get your hands on that you think would help? Get them. You'll never know what you need. And then of course, a good camera." You finished scribbling down this pointers on your flimsy parchment. "After that it's really all up to your creativity. And of course the printing. I'd be happy to give you the contact details of my suppliers and the company I hired to print the calendars if it would help you." 

"That…that actually would, thank you." You scribbled some more as he gave you more people to contact for this project of Stark's. "Alright I think uhm…that's all that we have to consult you on. Do you have like a Venmo or Paypal that we could--you know, send compensation to?" 

"Nah, don't worry about it." He had this almost wistful look in his eyes as he gazed upon what Thor could only assume was your visage on his screen. "Like I said, anything for my favorite Avenger." 

"Okay…but if I have to hack you ever again I insist on paying you somehow. Thank you for your time, Mr Fischbach." 

"Please, call me Mark. And if you ever hack me again, you can make it up to me when I go to New York and we could--"

Thor chose that moment to clear his throat audibly in a way that sounded like "high heavens".

"Fuck. Shit. I forgot about the flirting thing. Sorry, Y/N--I mean, Scopes. It was really nice meeting you." 

"Yeah, you too. Thanks for all your help, we really appreciate it." 

Before the plier man ended your call, he said, "And I'm sorry again, Loki." Then he disappeared from your screen and you looked straight at Loki, the smirk suddenly gone from his face. 

"Why did he keep apologizing to you?" 

"Truthfully, darling, I know not. You must admit, it's amusing, though," he answered you.

"It's confusing is what it is," you countered, shaking your head, and picking up your small stack of flimsy parchments, aligning them to make them seem more ordered. Thor briefly wondered what happened to the leather-bound journal made from Asgardian parchment that he knew Loki had gifted you on your last birthday. Perhaps he would ask you upon your appointment together.

"Do we have everything we need, Tweety?" Stark asked you. "Models, location, information…"

"Yup. All we need now is the setups, the camera, and the props. Gimme a budget." 

"Go nuts." 

"Sweet. So I'll get everything set up, we can plan who goes where, I'm assuming that we're putting you on January, Tony?" Stark nodded to answer you. "And we can put Steve in July…for obvious reasons." 

"I pledge allegiance," Wilson began.

"To the flag," Lang continued.

"Of the United States of America's Ass," you joined in as the two other men finished the line, leaving most of the team chuckling at your antics. 

"We can figure out the rest tomorrow, I guess," you announced as you stood up, closing your computer. "Let's go make a calendar." 

A/N: It's here!! Welcome to "man of the month"! I'm so excited to be creating and sharing this series with you all alongside @mochie85, and starting from part 2, getting to share all the amazing calendar pages we've created for this story as well! The linked masterlist will give you all a rundown of the chapters as well as whose blog to expect it from, so I strongly recommend following both of us so that you miss absolutely nothing 😉😉

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kikster606

Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson fanfic #muddyorbs writes #mochie85

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Omg Tony would totally go to lengths to show off his marriage! In conversations with other, he'd say "my wife/spouse" or "my marriage" "my wedding" SO SO MANG TIMES. At a certain point, Rhodes would start COUTING "your score today was 17. You said "my wife" 17 times today, man... I'm texting Y/N your score"

Married

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: 18+ smut mentions, fluff!

.

The glittery rock that sat on your finger shone bright and proud under the morning sun as your turned in your sleep, your left hand resting pretty against the recently vacated spot on your shared bed.

While your chest gentle rose up and down as you slept, the shower turned off and out walked your new husband dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist. A soft sigh left your lips as you stirred a little, almost as if you were aware of his presence.

Tony Stark’s heart warmed at the sight of you. A part of him was still in disbelief that he had actually married you and now you officially were his wife. He chuckled at the word as his mind played scenes from the weekend that was by far the best couple of days of his life.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may finally kiss your bride.”

As Rhodey finished, Tony had wasted no time in pulling you in his arms and sealing your marriage in a kiss that you wouldn’t forget in a million years. You had married the love of your life and everybody close to you and Tony were witness to this joyous day.

Half of your reception went in stopping Tony from exaggerating how incredible you were, and giggling every time he introduced you to everyone as his wife, it would take some time getting used to however, you couldn’t be happier being Mrs. Stark.

As Tony admired your beauty, a few stray drops of water fell on your bare back from his hair; he watched the droplets make their way down the dip of your spine, tickling your skin as you stirred some more but refused to wake up.

He traced the marks he’d left last night over your body, claiming you as his, his cock twitching at the memory of your sinful moans.

He bent down to press a soft kiss between your shoulder blades, trailing his lips upwards to your neck and ear where he gently sucked on your earlobe to rouse you from your slumber.

“Good morning wifey.”

Tony had no problem admitting he was obsessed with calling you his wife or Mrs. Stark at any given chance, it was as if his heart pumped an extra amount of love every time he called you that.

He watched your eyelids flutter before opening slightly, smiling when you felt his lips caress your face and saw his fingers play with your own, toying with the wedding bands that you had exchanged less than forty eight hours ago.

“Morning husband. I thought you weren’t going to wake me up…” you murmured with a smile, voice still ladden with sleep.

“I wasn’t, but you looked so stunning, I couldn’t help myself. Plus it is what married people do.” Tony stated matter-of-factly, coaxing you to turn around and face him.

“Is that right?”

“Mmhmm.” He murmured, continuing to kiss the side of your neck, abandoning the towel and sliding inside the sheets with you, in turn waking you up fully now that his colder, wet body made contact with your warmer one.

“Then I guess you will have to sleep on the couch tonight, husband mine.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he resurfaced to look at you, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face with a love-sick expression on his handsome face.

“Why?”

“Well to begin with, you promised me breakfast in bed last night which I don’t see, and you’ve ruined these sheets too.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I’m sorry but it is what married people do.” You smirked before shimmying away from Tony’s arms, giggling as he chased after you.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x female reader #tony stark fluff #tony stark smut #tony stark imagine #tony stark drabble #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x you #tony stark fic #marvel fanfiction #the stark squad

[iam93percentstardust]

Stevetony kissing for a dare!!! Hehe :3

DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE!

This is the second part to the fic from yesterday (I’m doing all this on unfamiliar technology so I’m a little afraid to exit out of this screen to find the link)

~

Little Mix is playing through the speakers in Natasha’s dorm room. Steve wouldn’t have pinned Natasha, who normally likes big band jazz and old spy movies, to like that kind of pop music, but she seems to delight in surprising people, so who knows? Certainly not Steve. Bucky would be the person to ask, but he delights in his girlfriend surprising people just as much as she does, so that conversation is a nonstarter.

There’s a knock on the door, and Natasha darts over to get it. Tony slips inside, followed by his best friend, Rhodey, both of them sliding rainslick hoods off their heads.

”Sorry we’re late,” Tony pants, sounding like he just ran all the way across the city. “Warden was making extra rounds earlier.”

”You know, one day Mrs. Hill is gonna hear you calling her the warden and have you taken out back and shot,” Rhodey comments, passing his hoodie to Sam with a grateful nod.

Tony, on the other hand, seems too distracted by insulting the middle-aged chaperone of their dorm to notice that he’s still wearing his coat, so Steve gets up to help him take it off. And, no, Bucky, it isn’t just an excuse to get to touch the pretty omega. He’s being helpful. Bucky should try it some time. Tony smiles at him, sweet and lovely, as Steve slides his jacket off his shoulders, and Steve feels his heart skip a beat. After hearing Tony’s four hour rant on the inherent unfairness in how omegas are treated in this town, he no longer has any concern about associating with Tony—after all, nothing will change if they all just keep going along with the status quo—but he still hasn’t made a move to act on what he’s pretty sure is a mutual attraction. It just hasn’t felt like the right moment.

”My knight in shining armor,” Tony teases while Steve takes the jacket into the attached bathroom where Natasha has a space heater going. Rhodey clears his throat loudly, and Tony rolls his eyes. “Fine. I mean, thank you.”

No idea what that’s about.

“What are we playing tonight, boss lady?” Rhodey asks, dropping onto the floor next to Sam. Tony takes the empty seat on the free bed—left unclaimed when Natasha’s roommate decided college wasn’t for her after all—next to Steve. He curls up as close to Steve as he can get, feeling like a wall of fire against his side. Steve shifts, lifting his arm up for Tony to get even closer if he wants—which he does since he takes the invitation—and puts his arm back around his shoulders.

”Truth or dare,” Natasha declares.

Sam groans. “We’re not in middle school, Tasha.”

She scoffs, “We go home for the summer in the morning. This is my last opportunity to get blackmail material on you so I can make you come visit me. If I have to be left alone with Yelena all summer, I’m going to kill someone. Possibly Yelena.”

Considering how much Natasha talks about missing her sister, Steve doubts that that’s a real threat, but in the interest of peacekeeping, he says, “I like truth or dare.”

”That’s because you have bad taste,” Bucky says. Natasha glares at him, and he hastily revises his answer. “I mean—uh—you have great taste! Obviously.”

”Nice save,” Natasha says dryly.

Tony leans over and murmurs, “Someone’s sleeping in the spare bed tonight,” into Steve’s ear. Steve snickers, drawing Natasha’s glare on both of them. Tony holds up his hands in conciliation. “I would just like to point out that I like truth or dare.”

”Yeah, that’s because you have no shame,” Rhodey points out.

Tony shrugs. “Guilty.”

“You’re going to pick dare every time.”

“Still guilty.”

“And if you don’t get one that lets you run naked through the quad, you’re going to light something on fire. Don’t think I don’t remember that game last year.”

Tony considers it and then shrugs again. “Guilty of that too.”

“You lit something on fire?” Steve asks incredulously.

”I light lots of things on fire. I’m an engineer. Keep up, Steven.”

“Ooh first named,” Bucky taunts. Steve takes one of the pillows from the bed and throws it at him.

Somehow, in all of the hullabaloo, they forget to set down rules for the game, which is good because just like Tony enjoys doing all dares, Steve only wants to answer truth. And for reasons that he’s never figured out, it’s acceptable to pick dare every time but not truth. For the most part, no one really notices—except for Natasha, but she doesn’t miss a trick. Ever. And when Tony and Rhodey start commenting about heading home so they don’t get locked out of their dorm, she talks them into one more round and then turns to Steve with an evil look in her eyes.

”Truth or dare, Steve?” she asks.

“Truth,” he says, certain she’s going to call him out on it. But betrayal comes from somewhere else entirely.

“Hey, you can’t keep picking truth!” Bucky protests. “You’ve done that all night!”

”That wasn’t in the rules,” Steve argues.

”You have to do it at least once,” Natasha wheedles. “You’re the most boring person alive—”

”Hey!”

”I don’t have any blackmail material at all.”

”Okay, let’s not insult Steve’s character,” Tony cuts in, and Steve is about to thank him but then Tony turns to him with that sparkle in his eyes that spells trouble for everyone around. “Just one dare? Please? To tide us over until we get back from summer?”

He sighs. He can’t say no to those big eyes. “Alright. One dare.”

Natasha pumps her fist triumphantly and then, so quickly that she had to have been planning this one for a while, she says, “I dare you to kiss Tony.”

“What?” he squawks.

”You heard me,” she repeats. Definitely evil. “I dare you to kiss Tony.”

Tony chuckles nervously. “Alright, we don’t need to make Steve do something he doesn’t want to do.”

And that’s just—no. Something he doesn’t want to do? Where would Tony even get that idea from? Kissing him is pretty much the only thing he ever wants to do.

Without thinking about it, without letting himself worry about ruining their friendship or if Tony’s protest was really him saying he doesn’t want to kiss Steve or the consequences if they get caught, Steve kisses him. Hand cupping Tony’s cheek, beard soft against his palm, swallowing the soft gasp Tony makes. It’s a good kiss. Fuck, it’s a great kiss. Easily the best one Steve has ever had (not that he’s had that many).

He pulls back only because he has to breathe, not out of any real desire to stop. He’s dimly aware that their friends are applauding them in the background, but he’s too busy drowning in Tony’s dark eyes to care what they’re doing.

”Oh,” Tony breathes, and Steve feels the exact same way.

#stevetony #alle writes #alle answers #if you like please reblog

[bedlamsbard]

Some Yonderverse concept writing! This is for a potential sequel to The Horizon Line, set about four years before On Yonder Hill (a.k.a. eleven months post-Snap, four months after the end of Horizon).

About 4.3K below the break.

-----

“How is he?”

There was only one he anyone even remotely associated with the Avengers meant these days.  Six months ago it would have been Loki; since the Tower, it had been Steve Rogers.

Natasha chewed on a fingernail and shot a glance at the Quinjet’s closed hatch, even though she was alone in the vessel and the only people visible through the viewport were a couple of Asgardian teenagers carefully coaxing a dozen strayed miniature sheep back in the direction of the flocks.  She had no doubt that they knew she was there, but the Asgardians were pretty good about not bothering anyone other than Loki, who after almost a year was still their first go-to for anything and everything.

“Natasha?” Rhodey prompted when she didn’t say anything.

“Not good,” she said finally.  “Not – not good.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the call, then Rhodey asked carefully, “How bad is it?”

It was a question whose answer varied from day to day, though sometimes it was hard to tell with Steve, since the worse he was doing the more he shut down.  She couldn’t tell if being in New Asgard was making it worse or better, since everyone there was already traumatized and depressed to the point of daily tears and nightmares.  At least the Asgardians had some kind of cultural context for what had happened to Steve, which did seem to help.

“Well,” Natasha said, “I think Loki is the most emotionally stable person here, so that might be your answer.”  Or at least that he was the best at pushing through the absurdity of daily life post-Snap, which these days amounted to the same thing.  She was aware that it might end in him having a messy breakdown with a body count later on, which was evidently what had happened seven years prior, but that was a problem Natasha and the Avengers would deal with when and if it happened.  At this point she didn’t think it would, or at least that if it did Loki would go off and do it on some other planet instead of on Earth, which Natasha probably should have been more concerned about but which she didn’t have the energy to deal with now.

She took a deep breath, then asked, “Does the President want us back in the States?  Or is Secretary Ross –”

He’d wanted to put Steve back in a lab as soon as he had come out of the Red Room, ostensibly on the grounds of replicating the serum; Natasha was certain that if he’d gotten his way, it would have resulted in a lot of dead scientists.  Steve hadn’t even been able to go into the laboratory wing of Avengers Compound.

“No,” Rhodey said swiftly.  “No, nothing like that.  Just –”  He took a deep breath of his own, then asked, “Is he anywhere nearby?  Anywhere that he can hear?”

Natasha shook her head, remembered that he couldn’t see her, and said, “No, he’s out with Loki looking at some field with the harvest goddesses.  I’m in the Quinjet with the hatch closed.  What is it?”

“I’ll leave it up to you whether to tell him or not, but –” Rhodey sighed heavily.  “Bruce and I just confirmed that Samuel Sterns survived.”

Natasha went absolutely still.

“Natasha?” Rhodey said after a minute of silence.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.  We’ve got footage and eyewitness confirmation.  Bruce and Betty are back at the compound now going through it all.”

“How?”

“We don’t know, but he’s a Hulk mutate, so…”

“Hard to kill,” Natasha said bitterly.  She bit down on her thumbnail, worrying a little strip of it free before she bit it off and spat it aside.  “God, I can’t tell Steve, he’ll never sleep again, and he doesn’t sleep through the night now.  I have to tell Loki – where was he?  America?”

“Brazil.”

Which was at least on the other side of an ocean from New Asgard, though with planes that didn’t mean much.

“God,” Natasha whispered again. “Son of a bitch.  Why won’t he just die?”

“It gets worse,” Rhodey said after a moment.  “Ross knows.”

“Son of a bitch!”  Ross would want Sterns alive and working for him.  Worse, if he got his hands on Sterns, he would find out what he had done to Steve.  In all likelihood Ross had guessed some of what had happened to Steve in the Tower, but guessing was one thing; knowing was another.  And he couldn’t be allowed to know if there was any way around it.

Natasha shut her eyes and slumped against the back of the pilot’s seat. “I can’t keep this from Steve,” she admitted.  “He’ll never forgive me.  But I can’t – Rhodey, he’s terrified of Sterns.  The man drugged him, stuck him in a glass box, implanted a chip in his brain stem, spent a month cutting off bits and watching them grow back, and tried to peel his mind like an onion and got closer that anyone will admit.”

“I know,” Rhodey said grimly.

“Did you tell Tony?”

“Yeah.  We’re using the SI satellites to try and find him.”  He sighed.  “Ross is probably going to want you two – maybe you three – back here sooner rather than later, but not if he can get his hands on Sterns first.  He has to know that we won’t let him take Sterns alive.”

“Preferably mashed into a fine paste,” Natasha muttered.  Louder: “How much time do you think we have?”

“Couple weeks?”

Natasha massaged her forehead.  “I’ll tell Steve and Loki.  If nothing else, Loki will probably want to up the security on New Asgard, which will make me feel better and might make Steve feel better.”  Though at this point she suspected nothing was going to make Steve feel better.  “Keep me updated.”

“Will do.  Take care of yourselves.”

“You too.”  She ended the call and tossed her cell phone onto the jet’s dashboard, staring bleakly out the viewport.  The little sheep were still frolicking gleefully on top of the snow, ignoring the Asgardians’ patient attempts to herd them back towards the flocks.  Unlike nearly every other animal in New Asgard, most of which tended to be half-again as large as their Earth equivalents and some of which were even bigger, the sheep only came up to Natasha’s knees and looked outright comical next to Steve and Loki.

“God damn it,” she whispered, and thumped her closed fist down on top of her thigh.  “God damn it!”

--

All she could think about as she trudged back along the path to the settlement was how frightened Steve had been when they had taken him out of the Tower, away from Samuel Sterns and the Red Room.  It had been the first time in her life that she had ever seen Steve Rogers afraid.  In the four months since, he hadn’t slept through the night once; on his worst days he didn’t sleep at all and he couldn’t be touched.  He didn’t react violently to it, he just froze, his eyes huge and terrified as he waited miserably for whatever was going to come next.  Since Natasha was both the most likely person to touch him and the only person in New Asgard who might have been seriously hurt if he lashed out, that was probably for the best, but on the whole she thought she would have preferred violence.  The unthinking resignation was worse.

Despite the construction of several houses in New Asgard, most of the Asgardians still slept either in Gimlé or Iðavoll.  Natasha passed the great meeting-hall with its gilded rafter-ends, Ullr’s forge, the recently-completed loom-house, and the public baths, all of which were already lit up from within.  Iðavoll’s elaborately carved doors were closed against the cold of a Norwegian March, but they opened easily at her touch, letting out a blast of warm air from the firepit that ran down the center of the great hall.  At this hour the big room was mostly deserted except for the usual assortment of dogs and cats, but Loki and Steve were sitting at the long table at the back of the room, Steve working in his sketchbook and Loki going through his mail.  Natasha still wasn’t sure how the mail was arriving in New Asgard and was afraid to ask.

They both looked up as she came in.  Natasha paused just inside the door to scuff the snow off her boots, then went to join them.  She touched a brief kiss to Steve’s lips as she sat down next to him, relieved when he put his arm around her; that meant he was having one of his good days.

Loki was frowning at what seemed to be an enormous scale the size of two cupped hands.  When Natasha leaned over to peer at, she saw that one side of it was covered in dense runic writing in gold-colored ink.  It was glowing faintly.  After a moment he tossed the scale down with a clatter and picked up an ordinary envelope, slitting it open with a dagger.  He read the contents, rolled his eyes, and stuck envelope and letter together into the nearest candle flame.

“More hate mail?” Natasha asked.  There was already a dusting of ash on the table.

“More hate mail,” Loki agreed.  He let the letter burn down to his fingers, then dropped it into a bowl and picked up a roll of parchment, leaving sooty fingerprints behind as he pried the wax seal off with the tip of his dagger and flipped it aside.

Steve had a small pile of opened mail set to one side of him, and another pile for Natasha.  As he went back to sketching, Natasha began to sort through her own mail.  Most of it was either hate mail or fan mail; some of the fan mail probably qualified as hate mail too.  There were a couple of advertisements and a letter from Alexei, which she set aside to read later.

She jumped as Loki snarled a curse in Asgardian, the Nordic syllables harsh, and slapped a hand down on the table.  Natasha grabbed for the candle as it started to fall, getting drops of hot wax on the back of her palm before she righted it.

“Kin-slaying be damned, I knew I should have had that son of a níðingr whore killed,” Loki said through clenched teeth.  He snapped his fingers with a glitter of green-gold magic and said, “Forseti, Ullr, I need you now.  Brunnhilde and Eir if you can be spared.”

Steve and Natasha stared at him as he tossed the parchment down onto the table and flattened his palms on top of the planed wood, flexing them as if he would have preferred to wrap them around someone’s neck.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked.

“Family disagreement,” Loki said.

Natasha blinked. “I thought –” she started to say, then stopped herself.

“That everyone was dead?” Loki finished for her.  “I could be so lucky.  That bastard would never have done this to Thor.”  He slapped his hand against the table again, furious.

The great hall’s door opened to admit the Valkyrie and Ullr, with Forseti and Eir just behind them.  As soon as they were within earshot, Loki wadded the parchment up into a ball and tossed it to Ullr, who caught it and straightened it out as Loki slumped back in his chair.

“Is he mad?” the blacksmith demanded, then passed the letter to Forseti.

“Well, given that side of the family, I certainly wouldn’t be surprised to hear it,” Loki said.

Forseti handed the letter to Eir; the Valkyrie leaned around her shoulder to read it too, then blinked and looked up at Loki. “Who the hell is this?”

“My cousin,” Loki said bluntly. “Or Thor’s cousin if we’re going to be exact about it, as he’s being – on my father’s side,” he added for Steve’s and Natasha’s benefits, and presumably the Valkyrie’s.  “Son of my father’s younger brother Vili.  And an ass.  He always has been, ever since we were children.”

“What does he want?” Steve asked.

“Asgard,” Loki said bluntly.  He sat clenching his fist on top of the table, white-knuckled and clench-jawed with fury.  “He wants Asgard.”

Natasha and Steve exchanged a puzzled look.  She would have expected Loki to just dismiss the possibility, but his reaction suggested that there was something else going on. “Can he do that?”

“Yes,” Loki said through clenched teeth. “I do not have time for this nonsense and the Conclave will treat it seriously for the sheer pleasure of dragging Asgard through the mud.  Thor or my father could have gotten away with ignoring it, I can’t.  Not now, at least.  I should have had him killed years ago.”

“The…Conclave?” Natasha said.

“Of the Nine Realms.  Get off, greedy one,” Loki added as Freki jumped up onto the table and sniffed at the remaining mail.  She ignored him and batted a paw at the candle flame, then sat down on some of the opened mail and stared at him.

“Why can’t you ignore the Conclave?” the Valkyrie demanded.  “They’ve never had any real power – not over Asgard, anyway.”

“Because I’m not Asgardian,” Loki said through his teeth. “As dear cousin Baldur takes such care to point out, I’m defiling our people by planting my Jotun-born arse on Hliðskálf, though I don’t think he knows Hliðskálf didn’t survive Ragnarok.  Idiot.  And if I ignore him, some of our people might start listening to him – the Realms might anyway, the House of Odin hasn’t exactly endeared itself to most of them over the course of the past few millennia.  I’m not letting him have the last word.”

“So you’re just going to take him seriously?” the Valkyrie demanded, at the same time that Ullr said, “If the Conclave and the vǫlur decide against you –”

“And have to deal with Baldur for the next six thousand years?” Loki scoffed. “Even they’re not that stupid.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve said.

“My cousin is suing for rule of Asgard,” Loki said. “On the grounds that I’m not Asgardian enough to have a right to the throne.  I’m not sure he knows how few of us there are or if he just wants the prestige of it.  He’s already called it up before the Conclave of the Nine Realms, the rulers of the Nine and some of the protectorate worlds, as well as the vǫlur.  They deal with inter-realm disputes and certain issues of inheritance at the highest levels, or at least they’re supposed to; my father used to rule them with an iron fist.”

Steve and Natasha stared at him.  After a moment, Natasha said, “You’re getting sued?”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Isn’t civilization lovely?  I should have stayed evil.”

--

Loki was so furious that Natasha didn’t have a chance to bring up Sterns’ survival to him and Steve until late that evening.  By then rumor had already spread through the settlement and New Asgard was in a state of high panic over the possibility that Loki might be deposed; Natasha wouldn’t give a fig for his cousin’s life if he ever came within spitting distance of New Asgard.  Every Asgardian there had crowded into the great hall for dinner and there was a buzz of sound throughout the building, all of them watching Loki, who slouched in the high seat on the dais and worked his way through two bottles of wine without blinking or looking noticeably inebriated.  He did get increasingly sarcastic as the night went on, though without the sharp-edged cruelty that Natasha remembered from the helicarrier.

“Didn’t the coronation put an end to this?” Natasha asked Forseti quietly at one point, while Loki was busy adjudicating some sort of disagreement over a goat.  “He’s already been crowned king, hasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Forseti said. “He’s been elected by the Althing, acclaimed by the Aesir and recognized by the Æsir, but Baldur’s challenging that he has no legal right to stand for election or to hold the throne.”

“But he already has the throne,” Natasha said, puzzled. “And he’s Thor’s brother and Odin’s son, isn’t he?”

“By law-right, yes, and by kin-right,” Forseti said, as Steve leaned in to listen.  The Valkyrie was sitting on Loki’s other side, but she turned her head too, clearly using her superior Asgardian hearing to eavesdrop on the conversation.  “But not by blood, which was never public knowledge.  We won’t know for sure until we stand up in front of the Conclave –”  Natasha took that to mean that she was expecting to act as Loki’s lawyer or whatever the Asgardian equivalent was. “– but my guess is that Baldur Vilison is arguing that because His Majesty isn’t born-Aesir he has no right to the throne.”

“Baldur,” Steve said thoughtfully.  “Isn’t he the one in the myths who…”  He let the words trail off, exchanging a look with Natasha.

She glanced at the wall behind the dais, where Mistilteinn hung along with one of the ulfheðnar’s wolf-headed shields and a pair of short swords, all ready for Loki to snatch up at need.  She had read the same myths as Steve.  On the other hand, they all knew how accurate those myths could be, which usually wasn’t very.

Forseti waved that aside. “They were children.  Eir can tell you the story; she was there.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Steve said, his eyebrows going up.

“Oh, please, he was fine,” Loki said, glancing at him. “It was barely a scratch a thousand years ago.  It’s not my fault he and Höd hold grudges.”

“This isn’t sounding better,” the Valkyrie pointed out.

“What is he the god of?” Natasha asked.

“Light,” Forseti said.

Natasha had no idea what that meant on a practical level, though even after nearly a year she still didn’t quite understand what Asgardian godheads entailed.

Loki scoffed. “He’s barely Aesir, that hardly counts.  I wouldn’t be surprised if what’s left of the Triumvirate talked him into this, I’m not sure he’s smart enough for it on his own.”

“His mother is Rind, younger sister of Freyja and Frey from the Ruling Triumvirate of the Vanir,” Forseti interpreted for Natasha and Steve.  “Odin arranged the marriage soon after he became king.  Vé’s too – that’s Vili’s twin; he married twice on Ria, but there were no children from those.  He has three bastard daughters, all with different mothers.”

“Does Baldur actually have a claim to the throne?” Natasha asked curiously.

“Kin-right, not law-right,” Loki said, scowling. “My father made certain of that when he married off his brothers.  None of my cousins even have a vote in the Althing; they’re not Asgardian by law.”

One thing that Natasha had figured out over the past eleven months was that Asgardian law was insanely complicated and got more so when it intersected with the laws of the other worlds in the Nine Realms.  There was no overreaching law in the Nine Realms; Asgardian law applied to a certain sector of the population on the planets ruled directly by Asgard, but otherwise local laws dominated.  There were ways to argue that one set of laws should apply over another, several cases of which Loki had already adjudicated, since the King of Asgard was the highest authority in any law case that involved Asgardians.

Loki knocked back his wine glass and picked up the bottle again, shaking it experimentally before setting it back down with a sigh; apparently it was empty.  He turned his attention to another Asgardian standing in front of the high table, saying something to her that Natasha didn’t catch.

Natasha sat back in her chair, thinking about what it might mean for Earth if Loki did lose the Asgardian throne.  The Asgardians were on Earth because Thor had wanted them to be and Loki was determined to follow his brother’s last wishes; knowing the general Asgardian opinion of Earth, she doubted that anyone else would be all that interested in carrying on with the New Asgard experiment.  Most human politicians would find removing the Asgardians from Earth a preferable option to keeping them here.  On the other hand, unlike Loki, Baldur had no reason to want to keep on Earth’s good side, and the last thing they needed was another inter-planetary war.

There were more Asgardians bedding down in the great hall than there had been lately by the time Loki finally pulled himself free and retreated to the room in the back of the building that he shared with Steve and Natasha.  It was a long room that ran behind the great hall, divided by folding screens and warmed by braziers filled with magically heated stones.  Loki sat down heavily on the futon-like quilted mat he slept on and rubbed his hands over his face, some of his anger and frustration dropping away.  When he looked up again, his expression was weary.

“Is it actually serious?” Natasha asked him.

He nodded.  “The Conclave doesn’t have any real ability to enforce anything it decides, but Baldur has close ties to the Ruling Triumvirate of the Vanir, and Freyja and Idunn could decide to enforce it if the Conclave decides in his favor.  That would mean war, since I doubt my people would simply accept Baldur’s claim even if I did.  Traditionally Asgard has never given much weight to the Conclave, since for many millennia we were the only ones who enforced anything across the Nine.”  He drew his knees up and rested his folded arms over the top of them.  “Baldur would very likely take my people to Vanaheim as well.  It would have been different if there was still an Asgard, but…”  He shook his head.  “In half a century, they wouldn’t be Asgardian anymore, they’d be Vanir, and Vanaheim would have the Protectorate, not Asgard.”

“What would it mean for you?” Steve asked, sounding worried.

Loki lifted a shoulder in a shrug.  “I could go to Vanaheim with the rest of my people, I suppose, if Baldur didn’t have me outlawed.  I could go elsewhere in the Nine; Eitri would probably take me in.  I could stay here.  Or I could leave the Nine.  Or, well, there’s the lovely and more likely option of civil war.  I don’t know that the Vanaheim garrison would side with Baldur over me – Thor, certainly, but to them he’s just another Vanr, not an Ás.  Though I’m not sure they’re convinced I’m an Ás, though they wouldn’t be wrong there.  Of course, they don’t get a vote, so what they think doesn’t really matter unless we do get that lovely civil war.”

He held out a hand to Freki as the cat walked in through the closed door, which never failed to disturb Natasha.  Freki butted her head against his fingers, then curled up against his left ankle as he stroked her back.

“So basically the Conclave is the space UN,” Natasha said thoughtfully. “Or the World Security Council.”  Before Alexander Pierce had blown the World Security Council to hell.

Since Loki had spent the better part of a month arguing with the UN, he couldn’t fall back on his usual tactic of pretending he didn’t know how Earth governments worked.  All he said was, “Roughly,” and rubbed at his face with the hand not involved in petting Freki.

Natasha bit her lip, not wanting to make Loki’s day worse, but if she put this off any longer then it would go worse for everyone involved.  She caught Steve’s eye as he started to move towards the opposite side of the room where they usually slept – they slept with Loki occasionally, but not that often – and he stopped, looking at her inquisitively.  “What is it?”

Loki looked up again.  “I take it that I’m not the only one who got bad news today.”

“No,” Natasha said.  “I got a call from Rhodey earlier.”

“I cannot go to America right now, even if it’s being attacked by robots again –” Loki began.

“It’s not about that,” Natasha said.  She took a deep breath, then said, “He and Bruce just confirmed that Samuel Sterns is still alive.”

Steve went dead white.  He took a step away from Natasha, his shoulders bunching up as if he expected to be hit and he was trying to brace himself for the blow.

Loki cursed wearily in Nordic-sounding Asgardian syllables that made Freki sit up and hiss.  “How?”

“They don’t know,” Natasha said. “They’re trying to find him before –”

“Before he finds me?” Steve said. “I’m not exactly hard to find.”

“He can’t cross the land-wards,” Loki said. “And if he tries, the Valkyrie will dismember him.”  Freki hissed again and Loki glanced down at her, smiling wryly. “Assuming the greedy one here doesn’t get him first.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve said blankly. “Ross will call us back, or he’ll use it as an excuse to –”  He had started to shake again, but when Natasha put out a hand to him, he pulled away.

Loki chewed his lower lip, then shrugged suddenly and said, “Then don’t be here.  Come to Nornheim with me; Midgard does technically have a seat on the Conclave and you might as well remind the rest of the Nine exactly who put an end to Thanos.  They could use the reminder that humanity is no longer Yggdrasil’s plaything.”

Natasha looked at him in surprise. “Nornheim?”

“The vǫlur host the Conclave at the ruins of Urðarbrunnr on Nornheim,” Loki explained.  “It’s considered neutral by all Nine Realms and the rest of the Protectorate.”  He frowned thoughtfully.  “The vǫlur might side with me; my mother was patroness to them.  On the other hand, I’m fairly certain that my sister is the reason Urðarbrunnr is in ruins, so perhaps not.”  His gaze flickered upwards again. “Regardless, there’s no way that Sterns will be able to reach it.”

Natasha glanced at Steve.  After a moment he nodded and she said, “I guess we’re going to Nornheim.”

#cut scenes and concept writing #grim from the reaping #roleswap endgame au concept #as always comments are appreciated

[celestialseawitch-ff]

🌹

They rolled up to a field of grass.

“Uh…”

“Come on.”

Tony and Peter got out of the car and headed across the grass. There was a small group of people already there. The Avengers – some of them, at least. Sam, Bucky, and Steve all stood together. Wanda and Vision were not too far away. Thor was on his own, holding his massive ax. Natasha was there as well. Bruce, T’Challa, Rhodey, and Dr. Strange were notably absent.

“Took you long enough,” Natasha Romanov greeted with a grin.

“We got side tracked. Everyone else noticing some hinky things?”

“Hinky is a way of putting it,” Natasha agreed acerbically. 

“Who's this?” Sam asked and nodded to Peter.

Peter's eyes shot up from the phone in his hands. He grinned and said “Hi!” Then used the same hand and shot a web to the grass. “I'm Spider-Man.”

“Please tell me he was older before.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Stark said I didn't look any younger.”

“Unfortunately, you don't.” 

Peter made a face and turned back to the cellphone.

“Rhodey and Banner?” Tony asked.

Steve shook his head. “Haven’t shown up yet.”

“James was headed for DC,” Sam said. “He might not even know what’s up yet. We tried calling him but the number isn't working. Should we be worried?”

Tony rubbed his forehead. “Probably not. A few numbers have changed. My own included. I'll check in today. We won't hear from Bruce until he's ready. He can go to ground better than a spy.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Most spies. He’ll turn up.”

“And King T’Challa, we know, is still in Wakanda. So that leaves one. Where's Strange?” Steve asked.

“Not here,” Tony replied with a shrug. “Hopefully he shows up, because I think he's the only one with answers right now.”

“What exactly is going on?” Sam asked. “Does anyone know?”

“The stones,” Thor said. “When the gauntlet exploded, it seems to have had a ripple effect, creating changes in this universe. Physical one's too.”

A few eyes glanced towards Vision, the most notably changed one of them all. No longer was the man red, but white all over with piercing blue eyes and a stone to match. The infinity stone was notably gone. He wasn’t the only one who’d changed.

Natasha's previously short blonde hair was now long and curly red again. Tony was younger. Thor was no longer missing an eye or a few inches of hair. Bucky's arm was the Winter Soldier's again, not the one from Wakanda. Peter looked different too, but only Tony could tell out of the group of them.

“How is this possible?” Natasha asked.

“It's not,” Tony responded. “None of this is possible.”

“The stones have different properties,” Vision said. “Mine allowed me great power that we can't truly explain.”

“Yeah, and now you're functioning without it.”

“That’s true. But how? The stone gave Wanda and her brother abilities. Who's to say what the stones can and cannot do together?”

“An explosion of power of that magnitude will have consequences,” Thor explained. “I am not highly gifted in the ways of magic or your peoples science, but I understand power. Father could see far into the future, but he had to enter an Odin Sleep to do so. He had to be vulnerable to gain such power. To destroy a power like the infinity stones and a man like Thanos?” He shrugged. “I am not surprised something unexplainable has occurred.”

“How do we change it back?” Steve asked.

“You can't. What's done is done. This is our world. This is our life.”

“He's right,” a new voice cut in. Everyone turned to see Dr. Strange appear out of a portal. “This is our new reality.”

#celestialseawitch #mcu #peter parker #avengers #tony stark #vision #wanda maximoff #natasha romanov #bucky barnes #steve rogers #dr strange #etc

[gingiesworld]

You Promised

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader.

Warning: Apocolyptic world. Death. Just a short one.

18+ MINORS DNI

The Avengers tried their best to find refuge among the dead that plagued New York City. Even the compound was no longer safe since Tony was at the cabin with Pepper and Morgan. Since the power had been shut off, everyone had scavenged as much supplies as they could. Water. Tinned foods and blankets and other necessary items.

"Wanda, can we talk?" Y/N asked her as they sat beside her on the roof of the building they have currently taken refuge in, just outside of New York.

"Of course." She replied softly.

"I need you to promise me something." They started as their eyes found her green eyes. "If ever I get infected, please shoot me."

"No." She shook her head. "I won't do that because you aren't getting infected."

"Come on Wanda, we have already lost Steve, Tony, Scott and Rhodey. We almost lost Bucky if it wasn't for his vibranium arm." They reminded her. "So please, I don't want to become one of those things. So promise me, you will shoot me in the head if I get infected."

"I promise." She promised tearily. Pressing an urgent kiss to their lips. "I love you so much."

"I love you more Wanda." They smiled at her, the two then looked out at the scenery, the city was in complete darkness. The once bright and happy New York was now dead. The sounds of the undead travelling through the air.

The others were asleep as both Y/N and Wanda kept watch, shooting any stragglers with the bow and arrow.

"You know, I kind of feel like I am living in a video game." Y/N smirked as Wanda chuckled at them. "I guess that's something huh."

"It is." Wanda smiled as they noticed a small hoard headed their way.

"We need to move." Y/N stated as they helped Wanda down and inside. Waking the rest of the guys up.

"We have to move!" Wanda told them as they sleepily got their weapons together. Y/N had the bow and arrow over their shoulder as they headed outside. The infected were closing in.

"Go!" Y/N told them as they all started to run to the cars they had acquired. Y/N and Nat were both shooting as many as they could as the others reached the cars. It wasn't until one had grabbed Nat that Y/N had tried to stop it from biting her. Chopping the head off with the machete from it's holster. "Get in the cars." They yelled as they swung the machete as much as they could.

"Y/N!!" Wanda yelled as she noticed one of them had bitten them, hearing as Y/N yelled out in pain, Wanda helped shoot as Nat dragged Y/N in the car. "Drive!" She instructed Bucky who just nodded. Driving as fast as he could. Nat held a rag to their wound as he drove.

"Wanda." Y/N whispered as Wanda shook her head no. "You promised."

"No." She whispered shakily. "It's too soon."

"It's time." They told her. Both Nat and Bucky looked between each other. "Please my love."

"I can't." She told them.

"Yes you can." They told her. "You promised me Wanda. I will not be one of them."

"No." Wanda turned away from Y/N. "I'm breaking my promise."

Y/N reached for Nat's gun, aiming it at their head.

"I love you Wanda." They told her before they shot themselves in the head. Wanda covered her mouth as the tears fell as Nat looked at Y/N's lifeless body in shock.

"Cover them up Nat." Bucky ordered her as she just nodded. Wanda closed her eyes as the tears fell. She had just lost the one person who was always there for her. The one person she only ever saw a future with.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x you #elizabeth olsen x reader

[captainwidowspring]

How do you think the final act of Civil War would've played out if Vision shot down Tony instead of Rhodey? Let's say the airport battle was the same until Rhodey ordered Vision to fire on Sam. When Vision fires, Sam dodges, and Tony gets hit. Tony falls to Earth and is paralyzed.

The way I see it, Rhodey and Vision would go to the Raft, and both would disapprove of the conditions that Sam, Clint, Scott and Wanda are being held in. Vision would protest Wanda's collar and straitjacket, telling Ross, "You can't do this to her. That's illegal," to no avail. With Ross showing he refuses to listen to reason, Rhodey and Vision elect to break Sam, Wanda, Clint and Scott out, and the six of them travel to Siberia to help Steve and Bucky.

Thoughts?

Well, I'll start by saying that I think you have some good suppositions. Their reason for going to the Raft would have to be different, since Tony went there just to get information out of Sam in order to ignore the Accords and follow Steve and Bucky, and it seems like Rhodey and Vision were actually trying to follow the Accords. But maybe they would want to see how their teammates were being treated. And I do think that on seeing those conditions, they would actually do something about it instead of ignoring it like Tony did. After all, Tony was blinded with rage at the fact that Team Cap was disobeying him, and he needed to see them immediately be harshly punished for their insolence: but this would not be the case for Rhodey and Vision. Also, since Vision and Rhodey just helped them, it would make sense for Sam to tell them about Siberia, since having their help would be beneficial (unlike Tony who had thoroughly demonstrated his untrustworthiness). And Rhodey would then be able to listen without Tony interrupting, and Vision would gain information he had not been privy to. And on getting all the facts, they would probably both agree to help. It would thus be quite believable for them to subsequently all go to Siberia together. Maybe Natasha would even be able to join them at some point.

But in addition to this, considering the significance of such a change is quite revealing. Having Tony be the one that was shot down would reveal just how much the movie was bent around him. I mean, right off the bat, Rhodey and Vision helping Team Cap would highlight the pointlessness of the airport battle. If Rhodey and Vision were convinced to go with Team Cap to Siberia, it would sort of call into question why all of Team Iron Man was not doing it, why there had even been a fight in the first place when talking it out evidently worked just fine. That might cause more people to realize that the battle was sparked by Tony ignoring Steve’s attempts to explain the situation, and claiming to be out of patience after not even a minute: and this would both highlight how badly Tony was treating everyone, and call into question why no one attempted to stop him.

Also, Rhodey and Vision helping Team Cap would thoroughly undermine Team Iron Man’s position. For not only would that team’s namesake not be constantly onscreen (and that was really all Team Iron Man had left, because not even Tony was following the Accords at that point), but Rhodey and Vision actually listening to what Team Cap had to say, as well as dealing accordingly with the threat, would emphasize just how wrong Team Iron Man’s position was. Presumably Zemo would not kill the supersoldiers in this case, because if he did he would look quite foolish: and that would reveal how dangerous the Accords were. For Team Iron Man in trying to enforce them was stopping Team Cap from dealing with a legitimate threat, that would have been catastrophic if the team had not been there to deal with it. Most of Team Cap's concerns with the Accords had been previously brushed off, but this would have plainly highlighted the validity of several of their issues. Indeed, without Tony driving everything, the other members of Team Iron Man would sort of be like, "Why are we endorsing the Accords again?" Tony shouldn't really have been supporting the Accords either, but the others were only doing so because he needed teammates to allow the conflict to happen. And by the time of Infinity War, both Rhodey and Vision were firmly against the Accords (and the only reason Tony wasn't was because he was never following them in the first place): so if Tony wasn't present to necessitate their support, especially considering that Natasha switched sides and T'Challa didn't really care about the Accords, there is no reason to believe that Team Iron Man's position would not have been sorely lacking by the end of Civil War.

So yeah, I do think that that is what would transpire if Tony was shot down instead of Rhodey, and reflecting on the implications of such a change is very revealing.

#anti captain america civil war #anti ca:cw #anti tony stark #team cap #marvel meta #answering asks