#sigh. im not really satisfied with this I wish I could get more of Steve in it

[transvampireboyfriend]

Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq​ ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry edit: you can now read this on ao3 :)

Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?

Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.

He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.

He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.

After some time, Eddie had gotten to know Steve even more during long weekday nights when one came over to bring the other something they left behind, or to share a record, or to demand the beers the other owes or to show the other a stupid article in a stupid magazine only to end up making dinner together and watching a movie afterwards.

They stopped making excuses about two weeks ago.

Eddie had asked “do youuu… wanna come over?” on Saturday night, while nervously twirling his keys as Steve locked the front doors of the Family Video.

The evening chill had cut right through Eddie’s leather jacket as his keys clanged against his rings. But Steve had nodded with a smile and asked “pizza?” on their way to their cars, and Eddie had forgotten all about the cold.

Point being, Steve had been just fine with ‘big boy’ when it happened. Eddie’s a nickname guy. Him and Steve are hanging out more now, and so, Eddie’s been calling him more nicknames. Some of them are very intentional, others come completely without thinking, and it turns out, Steve takes issue with a few of them.

The first time it happens, Eddie’s underneath his van trying to get the damn thing to cooperate, the recent winter was tough on it, and it keeps dying out on him.

Steve sits nearby perched on a little stool, wearing his Family Video vest since he came by right after finishing his morning shift to see if they could make plans for lunch. Eddie suggested they grab something at the diner if and when he finally gets the van to start back up and Steve had agreed to wait.

He’s been telling Eddie about tonight’s basketball- game? match? super bowl? Is there such a thing as the major leagues of basketball? Eddie’s not sure, but he adores the sound of Steve’s voice and he’s kind of invested in the drama of players switching teams and retiring and whatever else Steve wants to tell him about. So, he’s been listening, not really bothering with asking for clarification for what he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll figure it out as they go.

He's blindly patting the floor around his legs for his rag, when he feels Steve put it right in his hand.

Eddie’s relieved. "Thanks, bud!" he says, the nickname just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, no meaning attached.

It gets kind of quiet all of a sudden. After about five seconds of Steve not talking, Eddie comes out to check on him, and finds him frowning at his legs.

"Don't call me ‘bud’" Steve requests, looking up at his face, his tone just a tad harsh. Eddie would think he ran into King Steve if he didn't know any better.

As it is, Eddie gets Steve probably thinks the nickname is childish or patronizing, so he doesn’t think twice of it, just gets a little sheepish and says "sorry, Stevie".

Steve smiles at that, a little cocky. He does his little mean girl shaking his head thing like he just got exactly what he wanted. Eddie feels his face twist a bit in confusion, but he likes it when Steve gets a little mean so he doesn't say anything about it and just dives back under his van as Steve resumes their conversation.

 The second time it happens, they’re outside the supermarket. The kids shot out of the van as soon as it rolled to a stop, Steve calling out a warning after them while still listening to Eddie explain why Star Wars and Star Trek are actually very different but really good in their own way. Their conversation carries on as they hop out of the van, lock up and walk to meet at the front.

“I’m telling you, Star Trek is great. You would love it,” Eddie says, “you just have to give it a chance”.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but Eddie can see his smile.

“Ok, alright,” Steve answers, “you can show me tonight then”, it’s almost too nonchalant. Eddie has to hide his grin.

Steve’s been suggesting they hang out more and more lately, and he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, their time together is never dull, Steve seems to be really comfortable around him and maybe, just maybe…

“Should we get beers then?” Eddie asks, excited at the prospect of some more time alone with him.  They haven’t had a weeknight hangout since Eddie fixed his van last week. He kinda misses the very specific color of Steve’s eyes in the Harringtons’ yellow living room lamplight.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes get soft in a way Eddie only started noticing a couple of weeks back, “we can watch it at my place” he adds. Eddie thinks he definitely hasn’t seen him look at anyone else like that.

To shake himself out of the spell of the prettiest boy he’s ever met making the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen at him and ONLY him, Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and starts marching them towards the supermarket’s front doors.

Without thinking, Eddie says "c'mon man," as they go.

Steve, who started easily following him (like he always does these days), suddenly stops in his tracks. Eddie gets pulled back and almost stumbles on top of Steve. He'd get flustered if Steve wasn't frowning at him like he’d just said the most insulting thing he’d heard this month.

"Don't call me ‘man’" Steve says. Eddie feels his eyebrows raise a bit.

He debates asking why but doesn't question Steve in the end. He’d rather offer understanding than judgement to him any day.

So, Eddie takes advantage of Steve's wrist in his hand, and squeezes there a bit, says "I'm sorry sweetheart" sincerely, looks into Steve's eyes so he can see Eddie means it.

Steve blushes a bit then, not really used to the nickname yet, Eddie just got the balls to start using it last week. Eddie himself is not really used to seeing Steve blush, and at something he says? It’s too much power for one metalhead.

But he gets distracted from Steve’s blush because it happens again, Steve basically preens like a peacock once Eddie switches nicknames. Looks smug, like he has Eddie wrapped around his finger and well, Eddie guesses he does, so, no arguments there either.

He just smiles back at Steve, really, has no other choice, it’s not like he can control how he reacts to the most gorgeous fucking face the universe could ever come up with. But he tugs him along again, Steve happily following this time.

The next time it happens, Steve’s leaning against his kitchen island, with Eddie leaning across from him against the counter.

The party is watching a movie in the Harringtons’ living room and at some point, Eddie got up to get himself another soda, Steve not so subtly followed after him, taking the empty popcorn bowls to the sink. He struck up a conversation and there they stayed.

Eddie’s been turning the small gesture around and around in his head. Clearly Steve’s not shy about seeking him out, and he’s obviously good with the party knowing, which means a hell of a lot because those are Steve’s people, that’s his family.

Eddie’s honestly running out of excuses to not ask him out. Seeing him reaching out to bump his sneaker against Eddie’s boot when he says something funny, laughing just a little too hard at Eddie’s dumb joke; seeing his eyes widen a bit when Eddie compliments him; seeing him notice when Eddie is holding back from talking too much, and not letting it go until he thinks Eddie’s shared all of his opinions on the subject; Eddie thinks maybe he can be brave, when it comes to Steve.

And this week might be the perfect time.

Here they are still, the movie long ended and several easy conversations floating from the living room to the kitchen, where they’re still engrossed on their own.

“I mean I taught the kid how to do his hair for god’s sake!” Steve is saying, Eddie’s laughing easily, and he has a slight suspicion Steve’s acting way more annoyed than he really is because he knows Eddie dies laughing every time Steve roasts the kids.

“Just, if he’s gonna give me hair advice, he should work on that goddamn tone. At the Very Least.” Steve finishes, Eddie giggling all the while at his Annoyed Mom tone.

"Yeah, dude!" Eddie agrees, wanting to egg him on, but Steve's face suddenly falls and whatever remark Eddie had locked and loaded just fades away.

Eddie blinks perplexed; he’s getting déjà vu.

Steve frowns at him, says "Don't call me ‘dude’".

It’s eerie, only he sounds a bit annoyed this time.

Eddie thinks, maybe someone called Steve ‘dude’ before in an unpleasant way, so he doesn't pry.  Instead, he takes the chance to call him a nickname he likes more, and says "Sorry, pretty boy", his heart fluttering in the milliseconds he has to wait for Steve’s reaction.

And it happens one last time: Steve absolutely beams at that one, his smile so bright it makes Eddie want to jump in place.

He leans further back on the counter returning the smile, not noticing the common thread in Steve’s reactions to him switching nicknames.

But then the glint in Steve’s eyes suddenly brightens a dim corner of Eddie’s brain. He gets this feeling that reminds him of a perfectly set up riddle or finding that one perfect note for his latest song. It’s like everything suddenly just makes sense.

Eddie feels realization dawn on his face as he pushes himself off the counter to walk right into Steve’s personal bubble, grabs both of Steve's hands.

"Steve" Eddie says, not even caring that he sounds like the name is dripping in honey when it comes out of his mouth. With how sweet Steve is, it might as well be.

Steve just looks at him a little stunned, but doesn't say anything. Eddie draws circles in the back of his palms to reassure him.

"Why don't you want me to call you ‘dude’?" Eddie asks, trying to find out if this whole thing is what he thinks it is.

Steve looks down at their joined hands,.

"You call Nancy that sometimes..." Steve mumbles.

His answer would sound inconsequential to the unsuspecting, certainly would have to Eddie as late as last week, but Eddie thinks he’s finally getting it, and he hums his understanding.

"How ‘bout ‘man’?" he asks

Steve replies "You call Robin that sometimes..." his eyes still on their hands.

Eddie nods his agreement.

"I call everyone those things" he points out.

Steve agrees. "Exactly" he says, finally looking at him again, sounding annoyed and confirming Eddie’s suspicions.

Eddie feels his face split into a smile. He wants to grab Steve’s beautiful freaking face and just plant one on him.

"Can I still call you sweetheart?" he ventures instead. The nickname brings the hint of a smile to Steve's face but then he seems to realize something not so pleasant.

"Do you call someone else ‘sweetheart’?" Steve asks in return.

"No one" Eddie says, shaking his head, his tone vehement.

"Then yes" Steve finally answers. Eddie's heart wants to beat right out of his chest.

He interlocks their fingers to ground himself, Steve looks down at their hands and smiles at the sight.

"So, you don't want me to call you something I call someone else?" Eddie states, more than asks, calling Steve’s eyes back to his again.

"Anyone else" Steve confirms, holding his gaze.

Eddie lets out a small shuddering exhale and feels his heart fluttering in his throat, he really cannot believe this boy.

"Steve" Eddie drawls, dripping in honey again, his hands coming up to cradle Steve's face because he really can't resist anymore "Sweetheart" he says.

Steve's eyes grow a little wide and he starts blushing so much that Eddie can feel it in his palms.

"Steevieeee" Eddie sinsongs, squeezing Steve's face a bit "Pretty boy" Eddie calls him. Steve just keeps looking at him and a small smile blooms in his pretty, pretty face.

"Would you let me take you out to dinner this Friday?" Eddie finally asks him, his fingers curling to the back of Steve's head to play with his hair there. Steve's eyes get even wider.

" 's Valentine's this Friday" he points out. Eddie knows.

"Mmhm. Want you to be my Valentine." Eddie tells him, tugs his hair gently, "How's that sound?" he asks, bold in a way he never has been before. Steve blushing does things to him.

"Sounds nice" Steve answers. He smiles and nods while his hands hook on Eddie's belt loops.

"Then it's a date?" Eddie asks, trying not to sound too eager. He thinks he fails spectacularly but Steve beams and pulls him in to kiss his cheek.

"It's a date" Steve tells him, his breath ghosting on Eddie's cheek and making him shiver.

Steve pulls back, lets go of Eddie’s belt loops and tugs on a strand of his hair gently, smiling like the cat that got the cream as he walks back out into the living room.

Eddie’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day date Steve has ever been on.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie headcanon #steddie fic #Steve maybe gets a lil emotional the first time Eddie calls him 'sunshine' #steve harrington #eddie munson #adhd/autism eddie my beloved #fanfic #stranger things #sigh. im not really satisfied with this I wish I could get more of Steve in it #i ESPECIALLY wish it was better so it could live up to that AMAZING ART OMG IM INLOVE WITH IT 😭 #but it's almost not Valentines anymore so here #have it #i just want it to leave me alooooneeeeeee #but anyways #i might put it on ao3 later #i just get so embarrassed about my other fics but i also dont wanna orphan them idk #asdfghjkllkjhgf #whatever. good night #i hope your Valentines was nice <3 #bossy mean girl princess steve supremacy forever #.

[slashersteve]

No Shame

pairing: Steve Harrington/Female Reader

warnings: there’s sex guys okay omg, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up don’t be like them)

summary: (y/n) sneaks into Steve's room at 2 am, and Steve decides to give her the best night of her life.

note: this is called no shame but why is that all i feel huh answer me im so sorry also this is a series on my archive and my first time actually posting a smut im BORED 

***

While (y/n) considered herself to be spontaneous, Steve would describe it as more of impulsiveness. It was 2 in the morning, 2 in the damn morning , and here she was, tapping onto his window to his bedroom, his bedroom on the second floor of his house. Was this how girls felt when he used to do this? At least he'd ask first, not that he minded that (y/n) was here, as long as she wasn't crawling into some other guy's bedroom, but he would've liked a warning.

Her explanation was as she climbed into his room, very silently, "I was just in the neighborhood." Steve rubbed his tired eyes, laughing sarcastically at her joke. She lived in the house across from his, though he couldn't see it due to the trees, and long drive-way so of course she was in the neighborhood. He decided to just leave the window open, she would be leaving fairly soon and it was actually a pretty cool summer night. (y/n) herself was wearing a pair of jean shorts, and a loose fitted t-shirt that fell slightly over her shoulder. The first thing she did was fall onto Steve's messed up bed, arms and legs spread open as she sighed.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked again, going over to his door to make sure it was locked. Ironically, his parents were home, and if they found him with a girl in his bedroom, he'd get into quite a bit of trouble. It was easy enough to do this kind of stuff when they weren't there, as long as he wasn't caught that is. The other nights she would be here, they weren't home, and they were very closely caught one other time when she'd accidentally fallen asleep naked in his arms.

He remembered being vaguely aware of the opening of his bedroom door, and his mother telling him that they were home before he literally shoved her off of the bed. It wasn't about just keeping him out of trouble, he could handle his parents, but it was (y/n) he was trying to keep out of trouble- well out of the trouble she was almost always in. She had whined loudly, asking what the hell his problem was before realizing herself that his mom was just about to peek in. She had quickly slid underneath his bed and Steve pretended to be barely waking up, covering his body completely and telling his mom, "Good to know!"

Then when she was gone, he could hear (y/n) trying to smother her laughter as he nearly tripped over the sheets just to get the door closed properly and locked.

"That was so fucking close," Steve had said, feeling out of breath from the sudden rush of adrenaline of being caught. (y/n) slid out from under the bed, not even bothering to cover herself up as she stood up, rubbing the back of her head as she replied, "That would've been fun." He had felt really bad for shoving her off the bed like that, but she was in equal distress. She put on all of her clothes when she was climbing out of his window, she blew him a kiss and thanked him for the head-rush.

That was the closest they've ever been caught, and he was afraid that this time- they would most definitely get caught if they decided to do anything. The reason he was trying to keep her out of trouble was because her parents were much more strict than his were, as in they would keep her locked in her room for the rest of high school had they known she was sneaking around with Steve Harrington. They trusted him a lot, he'd been Little Steve, the boy next door who would occasionally help out with their yard for a little extra spending money, for as long as they knew him. He was pretty sure that if they knew their daughter who would bring him pink lemonade, and sandwiches in those times would end up in a very so and so relationship in the future with him they would've probably moved out of Hawkins and pretended they never knew any family by the name of Harrington. Dear god, they could never know.

(y/n) sat up, leaning back onto her elbows and tilting her head when she met Steve's gaze, "Oh come on, you know you're excited to see me." The tone in voice was teasing, making Steve shift in his spot by the door, "I was laying in bed, and just got so very, very bored. Then I started to think- what do I like to do for fun? And well- here I am." She gestured to the whole room, as much as Steve wanted to go over and do exactly what she wanted him to do, he stayed still, arms crossed and gazing at her. She wiggled her eyebrows, he rolled his eyes.

"No way, not tonight, my parents are home," Steve said, it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"Oh please- you definitely know how to show a girl a good time either way- I heard the tales of the infamous King Steve, fucking girls when their parents are just down the hall," she sat up now, crossing her bottom legs together. While that was all true, very true, and not something he'd put on the skills section of his resume, but nevertheless a skill, he still was against this completely.

"I get caught (y/n), it's whatever, I will survive. You? Your parents will lock you in your room until graduation," Steve tried to explain. (y/n) groaned, throwing her head forward. She looked up at him now, and for a moment Steve thought that she was going to understand, get up, and climb out that window. It sure looked like that's what she was doing as he watched her stand up and go towards the window. He really should've known better though, when she suddenly was removing her t-shirt, and then her shorts. Steve felt his boxer shorts tighten just a little, it was just a natural reaction when it came to her by now.

(y/n) wasn't an idiot, she knew exactly what to do to get Steve going, she even wore his favorite panties of hers. She pretended that this night was one of her spontaneous urges, but really she had been planning this for a few days now. She hadn't seen Steve since his parents got home from their trip, and she'd been so incredibly hot and bothered without his touch. The hot make-out sessions behind the gym just weren't cutting for her, she had to get Steve's hands on her, feel his lips on every part of her body, feel him fill her up inside.

When this started at the start of the summer, she admitted she felt a bit pathetic and needy, practically begging Steve to touch her, to literally do anything when she was over for a get together with her parents and his. They left them there to go out for lunch together, thinking nothing would ever happen between Steve and (y/n). It was really their fault for believing that. (y/n) remembered the day as if it was yesterday, she was wearing her new one-piece polka dotted black bathing suit, lounging by the pool, Steve was in the water then, wearing nothing but a pair of bright red swimming shorts and she couldn't take her eyes off of the guy. Even when he saw her looking, she didn't even show a bit of shame. She felt dirty, inside and out, for looking at a boy, for thirsting after a boy she'd known since Elementary school. But the rush made it all the more better.

Maybe it was because she was hearing stories about her childhood friend Steve around high school, about how many girls he'd left satisfied, how many girls who wished to have another night with him, girls saying the real reason he was King Steve was because of how fucking good he was in the sack. Things that if her parents knew they would severe all ties with the Harrington's altogether just to keep their daughter away from some fiend like their son. (y/n) was a virgin then, and these rumors spiked her interest entirely, made her feel things that she was sure was super wrong. Growing up with her mother who was very, very against premarital sex, or honestly relationships before 18 or even 30, she wasn't allowed to explore herself or her sexuality at all. That if she'd thought of anything dirty, even if it was just holding a boy or girl's hand, it meant she was doing something wrong. But that's exactly what made (y/n) so very, very excited. It's what made her make the choice she made that day, and every choice after that.

She would say that was one of her spontaneous, out of the blue moments, but like right now, that just was not true, she had been dying for a moment like that for weeks now. And what a moment that was, it was written in the damn stars when she watched him get out the pool, trunks sticking to his skin, shaping his thighs and then some. He was soaking wet, skin glistening underneath the hot sun, she couldn't help it when her teeth went over her lips. When his eyes had met hers, she thought she would've died of embarrassment, but no. It was something she wanted, she didn't care if he declined her and their friendship was ruined for the rest of their lives, at least she gave it a shot.

Steve had been surprised by her behavior, not expecting her out of all people to behave in such a way. She was practically eye-fucking him, and while he initially thought it made him uncomfortable- he realized it was quite the opposite. The way she looked laying there, chest heaving up and down slightly, bare legs glowing under the sun, and the way her bathing suit hugged her body(which he noticed before but pushed the thoughts away quickly).

Maybe it was a spontaneous moment for him. Because she got up, and walked towards him, and he didn't even hesitate to kiss her when she was close enough. Then they kissed some more, and then they were suddenly inside the pool shed. It was there, when his swim trunks were around his ankles, the top of her suit was pushed down, his hands in between her legs, did Steve gain control of himself, realizing what he was doing, realizing and remembering who this was panting and desperately grinding herself against his fingers.

"Shit- fuck - what are we doing?" he had asked, (y/n) was in too much of euphoria feeling his hands on her most vulnerable spot to even answer him properly, her words coming out as just a whine. She didn't even think about the fact that she was about to lose her virginity to Steve Harrington in a pool-shed, a pool-shed of all places, not until Steve had told her. She always thought she'd lose it on her wedding night, if that ever even came, or she could wait that long, because after getting a taste of it- if Steve wouldn't do this, then she thought she'd definitely want to find someone else who would.

"Fuck- Steve- please," she nearly begged, looking up at him with wide eyes, "I want this, fuck I want this so bad." Those words made Steve's dick twitch, and he had to bite his inner cheek to stop himself from groaning, "Just one time, okay, one time, and we don't- we don't have to do anything again or talk about it again. Just please just- just fuck me." The words that came out of her lips was something he'd never imagine coming out of there, and something he never imagined would've turned him on so much.

So, he did just that, pulling his fingers out of her wetness to pull down her entire bathing suit, stroking himself a few times before lifting her body up and pushing her against the wall, aligning himself with her entrance. (y/n) was in ecstasy at this point, not even caring that her parents could freely just walk into the backyard, coming back early from their lunch with Steve's parents and hear her very loud moans. She would endure the prison cell her room would be and the loss of contact because at the moment, it was worth it- especially he pushed himself slowly into her, until he filled her up completely. Steve loved how she felt against him, how tight she was around him, the feeling of her nails digging into his back, legs wrapped perfectly around him as he slowly started to push in and out of her, the pool shed full of the sound of theirs moans and grunts, and the way she was screaming his name. He loved that, a lot . And when it was over, they both knew that this definitely wasn't going to be the last time.

And it wasn't.

Because 2 months later, here they were standing in his bedroom at two in the fucking morning with his parents sleeping soundly in their bedroom just down the hall. (y/n) stood in front of him in just her underwear, breasts out in the open for his hungry eyes to see underneath the dim light of his bedside lamp he'd switched on the moment he heard her tapping on his window. She was smiling at him, that same teasing smile that he almost took as a taunt. Like she was saying 'I'm standing here, with just my panties on in the middle of your bedroom. What are you going to do about it huh?' Steve could think of a million ways he could do something about that. Just the thought was making his dick harden in his boxer shorts, and he thought well she did come all this way .

When he finally spoke, his voices were a view octaves lower that only made (y/n) become excited, "You always get your way don't you?"

(y/n) grinned like a cat now, and shrugged, "You make it so easy."

He let out a breath through his nose, tearing his eyes away from her a second, but that was just to double check if the door was locked. When the doorknob didn't budge when he tried to turn it, he turned back to her, his eyes becoming darker with desire and need. He walked towards her, grabbing her hips and pulling her body tightly against his as she giggled. With his face dangerously close to hers, he said, "I'll fuck you, but you have to be quiet."

The way he said it made her body shiver all over, so much that Steve even felt it, a smirk resting on his lips as he saw how even more excited she'd become.

"I can do that," she said in a whisper. He raised a brow, wanting to believe that she could but he knew she honestly probably couldn't. That was okay though, he knew exactly what to do about that, he'd done this before many times with girls that weren't her, not in a while of course ever since the relationship started- but Steve still knew what to do. He thought perhaps that's why she was so excited, she admitted to him when they were getting busy in the backseat of his car that she heard all about his sexual escapades from certain girls at school, and how that ignited her to start this with him. She was excited because this was something out of those moments, except for him it would be it was his own parents home and not the girl's. He licked his lips. Knowing he wanted to make this extra good for her.

He leaned down, kissing her. In moments like this, their kisses were always quick and messy, he was the much more experienced one between the two of them, so he always set the pace for their kisses, which were usually nothing but ferocious and wet. This time, his kiss was well- gentle. And it was a surprise, a very pleasant one. One hand had moved from her waist all the way up her and then to behind her head as he kissed her, pushing his tongue between her parted lips and tasting her completely. She'd never been kissed like this by him before, expecting a quick fuck then her hopping her happy, satisfied ass out the window and back to her own room. It was different, and she liked it.

Steve didn't notice that he was kissing her differently, the idea in his mind was only 'make this the best night of her life with him' doing what he just thought was right, and boy was it a good choice because it was making (y/n) extremely weak in the knees as his tongue moved around her mouth, clashing with hers, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on the back of her head. She let out a soft moan, especially when the hand on her waist moved down to her ass, giving it a squeeze. That was when the kiss started to turn into what she was used to, her hands moving up to grip his shoulders, biting down onto his lower lip making him practically growl. The sound made her squeeze her legs together feeling the wetness that was already there.

He pushed her backwards towards his bed, and she fell softly onto the messed up covers, looking at him with dilated pupils. Steve ran his tongue across his bottom lip as his eyes shamelessly swept across her breast, then downwards at her panties, biting his lip. She whines underneath him, making him look back at her and smirk while he shook his head.

"You have to be quiet," he said again, "If you don't- I'll just have to stop here..." he let both of his hands grip her breasts, making her breath hitch and her upper body lift up slightly, "And send you home. I'm pretty sure you don't want to have to go home when you're this wet right?" His knee now pressed against her, feeling her wetness soak through her panties onto his knee. (y/n) gasped, locking legs around his knee as he applied more pressure.

"Oh shut up-" she said, voice cracking slightly as she rocked against his knee, "You like it when I'm loud."

And that was true, so very true, and he had no problem in admitting that, especially when it was his name that was being called out from her lips, his name because he was making her feel too good. But tonight, Steve found it as a challenge for her and himself, to keep her quiet so his parents won't wake up, thus ending this entire relationship altogether. She was never one to comply though, Steve knew that for a fact, he wasn't lying when he said she always got her way, but not tonight she would. He would keep her quiet, but he wanted to play with her a bit before that, let her believe that he'd let her do what she wants.

Massaging her left breast, he latched his lips onto her right, swirling his tongue around the peaked bud and keeping his eyes trained at the bottom of her face as she shamelessly let out moans and gasps, grinding against his knee to find any sort of relief. Just as Steve thought, she wasn't keeping quiet. He moved his lips off of her, trailing kiss up the side of her neck, then forcing his lips against her, drowning out her soft sighs and moans. Her hand moved, grabbing his erection and he hissed into her lips, she started to try to put her hands into his boxers, but he stopped her, pressing his knee tighter against her. She hummed quite loudly, and he laughed.

Steve began to kiss down her body again, this time going between her breasts, and over her stomach when he met the waistband of her panties, she was squirming knowing what was coming next. His hands gently began to pull down her underwear, revealing her aching heat to him. He gazed up at her, she was on her elbows again, looking down at him with an almost pained look. Steve knew at that moment that this wasn't a spontaneous moment of hers, she missed him as much he missed her, the look in her eyes was telling him that. He licked her lips, keeping his eyes on her as he pressed an open mouthed kiss on her left inner thigh, feeling how hot her skin was.

(y/n) was quickly becoming a mess, watching him intently as she let out her soft whines of his name. Steve didn't tear his eyes away from her as his kisses inched closer to where she wanted his mouth the most, when he was just about to reach there, her legs practically shaking- his eyebrows wiggled as he switched to the other.

"Oh for the love of god," she said, not using her indoor voice, falling back onto the bed. Steve laughed against her thigh, his hot breath tickling her, sending another rush of pleasure through her, "Steve- come on- come on."

"Be quiet," he told her firmly, hooking his arms underneath her thighs.

"How can I when you're being such a fucking tease?" she was annoyed, but she was also quite enjoying this, enjoying the buildup, enjoying the attention he was giving to her pleasure, but if he didn't do anything soon she was going to shove him off and make herself come. Oh but she didn't want to do that- she didn't come here to do something she could do herself. The wait would be worth it, worth it completely.

His mouth was on her almost a second after that, licking a long stripe between her folds, making her squeak out of surprise and pleasure, lifting the bottom part of her body upwards. His arms held her in place, before he buried his mouth in her cunt. She didn't stop the moan from her lips, falling backwards onto the bed and gripping his bed sheets.

"Oh fuck Steve, you always do such a-" she started to speak, but suddenly one of his hands was removed from her legs and his mouth was off of her, he practically glared at her before he reached upwards, holding up her discarded panties, and shoving it into her mouth. Her words were muffled, and she coughed questionably- wondering what the fuck Steve just stuck in her mouth, but before she could even attempt to ask- his mouth was back on her, and she literally could care less about what was gagging her. His tongue delved inside of her, nose rubbing against her clit sending waves up pleasure on her body.

She was quiet, well quieter. Her moans being muffled by the fabric stuffed in between her lips, biting down on it as she squirmed and closed her eyes.

Steve kept his eyes on her, seeing the dark pink lace fabric between her lips moving slightly as she whimpered. Steve sucked onto her folds, groaning at the taste he could never get enough of.

"That shut you up finally," he said against her sex, voice deeper and hoarser, "You taste so fucking good, can't get enough of this-" She answered that by grabbing his head, entangling her hands into his messy brown hair, begging him to continue eating her out. He complied, practically began to tongue fuck her, then suck on her clit as she started to shake underneath him. Biting down on the fabric, he could hear her muffled voice say "Steve!"

Even with that gag, she was still so fucking loud and he loved it.

He could tell she was close, attempting to get out of his grip in order to tighten her legs around him, but he kept her in place, sucking shamelessly on her clit that sent her into a frenzy, moving her body the best she could to grind against his face. Honestly, he was surprised his parents hadn't come banging on his bedroom door yet- asking him what the fuck was going on there. That would really kill the mood, but her muffled moans that were still quite loud were music to his ears, especially when she finally did come. He was lapping at her cunt, tasting every inch of her with his tongue when she gripped his hair a little too tightly folded upwards, feeling that pleasure suddenly burst- coursing through her entire body, he groaned desperately against her lips as he tasted her cum- lapping at her cum like a man deprived of it as she trembled beneath him.

When the grip she had on his hair loosened, Steve removed his lips from her. She just laid there, body almost limp, her chest heaving up and down. He looked completely sexy and erotic to her right now, his hair disheveled, pink lips plump and wet, chin wet with her release, then he ran his tongue over his lips. (y/n) whimpered at that, and Steve wiped his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. The sight of her before him was interesting, laying there coming down from her orgasm, dark pink panties sticking out of her mouth, a sheen of sweat glistened all over her. The room stunk of sex, and sweat- even if his parents knocked on his door asking what all the ruckus was and he threw her off of the bed like that other morning- they'd just know. Steve groaned, applying pressure to his ignored erection in the mattress when his eyes met her wet cunt again.

(y/n) got a hold of herself, that mind blowing orgasm made her not move for just a damn minute. Steve had eaten her out a number of times, but he'd never made her come that hard before, and when she saw him grinding not so discreetly against the mattress- she felt another rush of desire before her. Forgetting about the panties in her mouth, in fact not even caring all that much, she grabbed Steve by his shoulders, pulling him upwards on top of her.

She used her feet to push down his boxers, and Steve quickly removed them himself, pushing himself inside of her all at once using the wetness from her release. A curse word slipping from his lips when he was completely inside of her heat. She drawled out a long, suppressed moan against his ear, his head fell in the crook of her neck, placing a wet kiss there.

"Fuck I love the way you feel, always so fucking wet and tight," he said against her skin, kissing her in the same spot again. She replied with a hum, nuzzling her face into his hair, her hands were snaked around his arms, hands pressed against his shoulder blades, her legs wrapped tightly around him, encouraging him to move against her. He began to move, sliding in and out of her in quick thrusts, she pressed her face now into his hair, and he began to muffle his own fairly loud groans against her skin, biting ever so often, knowing that just might leave a mark.

Drunk on his passion, Steve started to pick up the pace, the sound of both of their skin slapping against each other and the bed creaking echoing in both of their ears along with her suppressed moans, and phrases that sounded very much like 'Yes Steve! Yes fuck me Steve!' He'd had enough of that stupid gag, leaning upwards finally to pull it out of her mouth, not giving a fuck if they were caught. He would lie, he would say it was someone else, he didn't care.

At an instant, (y/n) cried out his name, "Steve!" He started to fuck her harder, growling as he pounded shamelessly in and out of her, pushing her legs apart in order to push deeper inside of her. That made (y/n) literally scream his name that prompted Steve to kiss her, drowning out that scream. (y/n) kissed him ravenously, tasting herself on his lips and tongue. She came again, it came quick and made her choke on his tongue and Steve wasn't very far behind.

He let out a rough whine, feeling his own orgasm coming fast. He pulled out of (y/n) just as he came, hands viciously jacking himself off as he dirtied her up with his cum. It fell heavy and hot on her thighs and part of her stomach. His entire body was a flushed pink color as he panted, lips open, and eyebrows furrowed. He stopped his movements, falling forward on top of her, feeling his own cum against him and not caring, resting his head against her rising chest.

(y/n) let out a very loud satisfied sigh, and he felt her hands gently kneed themselves through his hair, making him look up at her, she moved some of his hair out of his face, and she grinned, "That was fucking amazing." Steve didn't want to toot his own horn, but yeah that was pretty fucking great. Plus, he enjoyed feeling her hands massage his scalp slightly, relishing in the moment before she'd have to get up and get herself cleaned up and go out her window. It had always been this between them since those two months, and at this point, Steve didn't know what this relationship was and didn't care, it was fun especially with her. He hadn't been with another girl since then, haven't even thought about it. Why would he go off with some other girl when the perfect one was right here running her hands through his hair after a good fucking?

He wouldn't realize until much later that he'd let her do practically anything, if she asked him to rob a bank he wouldn't even hesitate, as long as she let him kiss her until neither of them could breath anymore. Hell, she could end this tomorrow and run off with some other guy, and there wouldn't be a damn thing he could do about it but cherish the moments between them.

(y/n) couldn't go just yet, he just fucked her into next week- how the hell is she going to be able to climb out the window with these wobbly ass legs? But it had to be done, if she laid here with Steve laying on her like this she might fall asleep in his arms, which she didn't actually mind, but it was too risky. Like this wasn't, she thought amusingly. She moved to sit up and Steve reluctantly got off of her with a whine. He slid on his discarded boxers, going over the bathroom to get a wet towel to help clean her and him off. That was when (y/n) sat up, her hand touching the wet object that Steve had stuck in her mouth in an attempt to keep her quiet. She picked up the very familiar cloth, and couldn't stop the laugh that came out of her mouth.

"Oh fuck you Steve," she said just as he walked back into his bedroom, the light from the bathroom shining on her sitting there holding her underwear in one hand and giving him an amused look. Steve smirked and shrugged.

"Had to find some way to shut you up," he replied, starting to wipe her inner thighs and stomach. She laid back, looking at her panties and laughed.

"My own panties, you're so kinky Harrington," she wiggled her eyebrows, making him roll his eyes thinking for a moment that this was the girl who literally was too scared to say a curse word as a middle school to saying crude things like that.

"It's not a kink, any cloth would've done," he said, (y/n) scoffed not believing that for a second.

"Yeah right- I saw the way you were looking at it in my mouth." Then again, she didn't know what even was in her mouth and she hated to admit it- but that's kind of fucking hot.

"It might be just a little bit of a kink," he said rubbing the back of his neck almost embarrassed, (y/n) hummed.

"Thought so."

Steve leaned over her, their noses almost touching and he said in a gruff voice, "But I much prefer hearing you scream my name, instead of those muffled ones you were giving me. You just wouldn't be quiet." (y/n) nipped at his lips, and when he tried to kiss her, she dodged him by shoving him off and rolling off of the bed, knowing if they started something again she'd never leave. She could stay until the morning like last time, but the idea of sleeping in too late and waking up to knocking her head against the floor wasn't so appealing. He watched as he put on her shirt, then slid on her shorts. Steve raised a brow and grabbed the panties she tossed aside.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" (y/n) looked at him, then the panties, then back at him and shook her head. Steve gripped them between his hands and she said, "Keep them Harrington, I'll be back for them tomorrow night so we might just need them." Steve's eyes darkened slightly, and she shot him a wink as she climbed out the window. Steve watched her carefully climb onto the room, then slide off of the side of it, landing onto the lawn chair she set there, her sandals set down neatly at the side.

When she was on the ground, picking up her sandals, she looked up at Steve and waved at him as if it was just a visit between two best friends. Steve stupidly waved back, and she turned around, walking past the pool silently, hips swaying just a little bit more than usual. Steve watched her until she disappeared behind the back gate, and when she was gone, he looked down at her panties, still wet with her own saliva. He felt his dick twitch in his boxers, dammit.

He shoved them into his side dresser, and looked at his messed up bed, seeing wet spots where her thighs once were, and he removed the sheet, shoving it into his hamper. He'd have to get up early to wash his sheets, because if he didn't her scent would be all over it and he'd never get some decent amount of sleep. Well, he guessed that didn't matter- because she was coming back tomorrow night, which from the events of this night-  he wouldn't be getting any sleep anyway.

And damn he couldn't wait.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things imagine #steve harrington smut #st imagines #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #my imagines #leslie writes imagines again

[riotwritesthings]

Melt into Me (Your Words Are My Own)

WinterIron, E, 18k, Heavy casual praise kink, pining, non-graphic injury, self care is big sexy | AO3

Remember when I said this prompt for WinterIronMonth got way out of hand? I was young and naive. It’s a monster. Here it is I’m super proud of it. 

This fic, like lots of other fic, is all Stella’s fault. Everyone say thank you. And an extra big thank you for the idea, and the title, and in general letting me whine about this fic at you all the way through. You are truly a treasure.

-

Bucky has a new strategy for getting Tony to take proper human care of himself. Tony has never been so well fed, hydrated, thoroughly rested, and confused in all his life.  

That doesn’t mean he wants it to stop, and it’s amazing how many boring adult things Bucky can get him to do just by patting his head and calling him ‘good boy’. Right up until Tony possibly ruins everything.

-

“Did you actually go to medical before coming down here?” Bucky asks as he walks into the lab. He fixes Tony with an expectant stare, looking freshly showered and gorgeous and-

Tony viciously shoves down that line of thought, instead holds up his arm and shows off the neat line of stitches on his forearm “I did,” he says smugly, “and you can tell, because these are much neater than when I do it myself.”

“Your stitches are terrible, I’ve seen literal evil scientists with better needlework than you,” Bucky says agreeably, stepping close to inspect Tony’s arm before giving a satisfied nod.

“That’s hurtful,” Tony says, dropping his arm and turning back to his worktable before he does something stupid like lean in and try to get a big whif of the shampoo Bucky uses. “Now where’s my treat, that was the deal, I went and let the ‘professionals’ sew me up and you better not be backing out on your end of the deal, or-“ Tony cuts off when a ziplock bag of homemade cookies lands on the table in front of him, straight from Bucky’s secret stash that no one has been able to find. “Yay,” he says gleefully, ripping into the bag.

Bucky’s hand is suddenly resting on top of his head, gently ruffling it, and Tony is uncomfortably aware of the fact that his hair is a sweaty mess because he may have gotten distracted on the way to his post-battle shower. Then Bucky pats his head and coos “yeah, tha’s a good boy.” His voice is equal parts teasing and amused, maybe a hint of condescension and underneath it all a fond warmth, like he really is pleased Tony dragged his pitiful human ass to medical after a relatively routine fight.

Tony flushes hot, nearly chokes on his giant mouthful of cookie and the only saving grace is that Bucky has already wandered away to play some kind of elaborate game with the bots. Tony still does not understand the rules of said game, and he wishes he found it less endearing that Bucky refuses to explain it to him.

Okay, so. That... that happened. Tony turns his attention back to the gauntlet he’s trying to repair and tells himself it’s fine, it’s not like it’ll ever happen again. It’s fine.

-

And the thing is, it’s not like Tony meant for it to happen again. It’s not like he was aiming for it. At least... not intentionally.

It’s just that Bucky’s been pestering him about actually remembering to eat lunch at a decent time recently, so when one day Tony actually does remember he decides to rub it in a little. ‘Ate lunch,’ he texts even though it’s silly, it doesn’t even matter and Bucky is only a couple floors up helping Steve rearrange furniture to Natasha’s liking for the millionth time. ‘Don’t see the big deal, but now maybe you’ll leave me alone you big mother hen.’

About half an hour later, Tony is heading to check out the new common room arrangement when Bucky texts him back and he laughs when he sees that it’s just a cookie emoji. Then Bucky adds ‘good boy’ and Tony makes a strangled sound as he walks into the still-opening doors of the elevator.

Tony spins on his heel and punches the door-close button before anyone spots him. Because he really doesn’t need company while he presses his flaming red face against the cool metal wall of the elevator, his heart thumping hard in his chest. Tony firmly tells himself that had not been his intention, and it’s really a good thing he’s so experienced at lying to himself.

-

Tony tracks Bucky down to hand over the fancy new scope he’s just finished, and finds him in the library curled up in an oversized armchair. It’s unfairly adorable, and Bucky’s smile does dangerous things to his heart.

“Thanks doll,” Bucky says, staring up at him instead of inspecting his new toy. When Tony tries to literally wave him off, already turning for the door, Bucky catches him by the wrist and gives a gentle tug until Tony relents and meets his stupid earnest gaze. “I mean it,” Bucky says, “I know how hard you been workin’ on this, thank you.”

Tony sputters, and then makes a couple nonsense noises while something uncurls warm and amazing in his chest. “No worries,” he finally manages and it’s both a relief and a disappointment when Bucky releases his wrist. “Making scopes is my jam. That’s better than the one I just put on Clint’s bow. Don’t tell him.”

“I’m gonna tell ‘im,” Bucky says instantly, smug and grinning and still just staring up at Tony, like he could possibly be more interesting than a digital scope. “I get the best stuff an’ I wanna make sure he knows it.”

“Whatever makes you happy, snowflake,” Tony says, face warm because oh god he’s so obvious, isn’t he? When he turns to enact a manly flee, Bucky lets him go and the sound of his soft, fond laugh follows Tony the rest of the day.

-

It kind of spirals out of control from there. Tony tells himself he doesn’t love it, but even he doesn’t believe himself anymore.

Bucky snatches the coffee cup out of Tony’s hand and replaces it with a glass of water before Tony can even begin to formulate a protest. For a long second all Tony can do is blink in stunned silence because how dare?!

Tony narrows his eyes in a glare, and apparently the twitching of his free hand gives him away because Bucky shifts to hold the mug way up above his head with that wide, gorgeous grin. Tony is pretty sure, if he tried hard enough, he could get that mug back, but it would probably end in both of them covered in water and/or hot coffee. And it would involve a lot of pressing himself against Bucky and attempting to climb him like a tree, which is... probably not a great plan.

So Tony chugs the water, glaring the whole time, and then Bucky hands back his coffee with a quiet “good.” Tony struggles to fight back his blush, can’t at all help the smile that takes over his face, and Bucky just smiles back before continuing on his way.

-

“JARVIS, please wake Bucky up just to inform him that I am pointedly not getting more coffee at three in the morning, and please do it as obnoxiously as possible,” Tony says as he stares into the depths of the fridge, “I’m thinking air sirens. Neon lights.”

There’s a soft, low chuckle from right behind him, and Tony has just enough time to freeze up, his eyes going wide. Then Bucky’s hand is in his once again messy hair, and Bucky’s low, sleep-rough voice is rumbling out “good boy.”

By the time Tony finds his own voice again Bucky has leaned in close against his back to swipe one of Clint’s juice boxes, patted him on the shoulder, and started for the door. “If I’m a good boy then where’s my cookie?” He calls after Bucky’s retreating back, tongue thick and heart racing.

“Good boys go t’ sleep,” Bucky calls back, pointedly, and Tony grumbles all the way to bed.

He sleeps like a fucking baby, wakes up still feeling warm and happy and flushed.

-

"I don't need a brain scan," Tony insists. Again. “My brain is fine. It’s excellent. It is a stunning example of a human brain, ask anyone. Except Bruce, but he’s still just mad that I broke his favorite microscope.”

Bucky continues to stare him down, then lifts his shiny metal hand. "How many fingers am I holdin’ up?" He demands, and Tony would be insulted if he wasn’t having such a hard time focusing.

Tony stares at his hand, counting carefully. "Three," he finally declares, with full confidence.

"That took entirely too long!" Bucky says, dropping his hand again even though it looks like what he really wants to do is just throw both hands in the air and yeah, Tony gets that a lot. "You have a knot the size of a fuckin’ golf ball an’ no offense, but it’s ruinin’ your pretty face. Go get th’ damn scan!"

Tony taps his screwdriver against his chin, eyes on the ceiling, and decides he should probably wait to freak out about the ‘pretty face’ comment later, alone. So for now he turns a sunny smile on Bucky, pointing his screwdriver, and says "no.”

"Please, doll? Do it for me?" Bucky asks, completely shifting tactics, and he even has the gall to pout at Tony. With his blue eyes and red lips. The nerve of it.

Tony holds firm. For about five seconds. "Fine," he sighs, dropping the screwdriver to the table so he can throw both hands in the air himself.

Bucky smiles at him, warm and relieved and something that Tony almost wants to call thankful and Tony has to drop his chin because he can’t deal with that face.

Moving his head so suddenly kind of makes the room spin, and Bucky ends up having to carry him to the medical wing. Bucky also lectures him the whole time, but his hands are so gentle and he stays for the entire thing and Tony finds that he only minds the lectures a little.

-

Tony wakes up from a nap he definitely hadn’t intended to take, still sprawled out on the couch in the common room with Bucky’s fingers still running through his hair. He has no idea how much time has passed but the TV is off and the windows are dark. He appears to have stolen Sam’s blanket, at some point.

He twists his head, still resting on Bucky’s thigh, to fix Bucky with a baleful look and says “I thought I told you I didn’t need a nap.”

“‘S not like I made you fall asleep,” Bucky says, smiling innocently even though he basically did, with his stupid magic hands. Then Bucky’s grin turns into a smirk, voice low as he adds “but don’t you feel better now?”

Tony pouts harder, because he does, and Bucky laughs, continues petting his head until Tony falls right back to sleep.

-

“You do not want me helping you cook,” Tony says with a sputtering laugh, but he steps further into the kitchen anyways, because whatever Bucky is cooking smells amazing. And because it’s Bucky. “I can’t believe you’d ask me to come help you cook. Did JARVIS not tell you how much of a terrible idea that is?”

“Just be good an’ get over here,” Bucky says, and he doesn’t look up from stirring whatever’s in the giant pot but Tony can hear him rolling his eyes.

“I will be no help,” Tony assures him, but steps up to the stove anyways, trying to peek over the rim of the pot. “Is that tomato sauce? Please say yes, and then please don’t let me ruin it.”

Bucky lets out a huff of laughter and turns towards him, wooden spoon outheld, and says “c’mon doll I need a taste tester.” When Tony just blinks at him, Bucky wiggles the spoon a little and says “open up, sweet thing.”

Tony does his best to ignore what that particular choice of words does to him, instead making a big show of checking the spoon for signs of poison or sabotage, humming suspiciously until Bucky gives an impatient huff. Only then does Tony give in, leaning in just a little more to drag his tongue up the flat back of the wooden spoon and then groans happily, because holy shit that is some good sauce. He opens his eyes to tell Bucky so, not sure when they fell closed in the first place, only to find Bucky watching him with an intensity that has Tony’s breath catching in his throat.

“Good?” Bucky asks, like he doesn't already know the answer, and when Tony nods emphatically he grins. “See,” he says, voice suddenly gone low and deep, not looking away from Tony even as he returns to stirring the pot, “you can be good an’ helpful, knew you could babydoll.”

Bucky finally turns back to the stove, just in the nick of time because there’s not a damn thing Tony can do about the warmth spreading across his cheeks, unfurling in his chest. “Yes, very helpful,” Tony says with a dry laugh, “what would you do without me here to lick things?”

Bucky’s eyes flick over to him, lids lowered in a way that is giving Tony ideas, and his lips quirk up and as he says “have to lick things myself I guess, an’ where’s the fun in that?” Tony barks out a startled laugh, face heating, and Bucky grins down at the pot. “Gonna stay and eat with me, right?” He asks pointedly, like he’s just daring Tony to say no.

Tony pretends like he actually has to think about it, making considering noises and dragging his eyes away from the smug curve of Bucky’s lips. “Do I get a treat afterwards?” He asks obnoxiously, giving Bucky a little nudge with his elbow.

“Mmhmm,” Bucky hums, gaze shifting over to him again. Tony can feel his pulse in his fingertips in the best possible way and he has to bite his lip so he won’t start blurting out suggestions. Bucky’s eyes flick down, just for a second, and then he says “go get some plates.”

So they eat dinner, and Bucky demands to know all of Tony’s greatest cooking disasters and yeah he laughs his ass off but he also keeps giving Tony these wide, warm smiles, and Tony finds that he really doesn’t mind. He’d tell Bucky every embarrassing thing he’s ever done if he gets to hear that laugh. And he’s done a lot.

When Tony starts shoving his empty plate across the table, knocking it into Bucky’s obnoxiously, Bucky just laughs and goes to rummage around in the pantry. Which is a foolish move, because now Tony knows his secret sweets stash is in fact somewhere in the pantry. Which is more than anyone else knows.

Bucky returns with a chocolate and peanut butter cookie roughly half the size of Tony’s face, and then watches him eat it with an unfairly intense stare. Bucky barely glances down at his own plate as he devours a second, and then a third helping of food, just watches Tony eat the cookie that he’s starting to suspect Bucky has been saving just for him. Like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing in the world, nothing more interesting than watching Tony make a mess of himself with baked goods, licking smears of chocolate off his fingers.

The heat in Tony’s gut is battling for attention with the warmth in his chest, and he can’t do much more than stare back. He barely even remembers the walk to the elevator after Bucky firmly suggests he should get some sleep once in a while, the weight of Bucky’s eyes on his shoulders all the way down the hallway.

He falls asleep thinking the word ‘ravenous’ and wakes up panting, stuck to his sheets and aching.

-

Bucky walks into the room, and Tony switches from eating his breakfast like a normal, rational person, to eating it pointedly, fork scraping across his plate, loud chewing, the works.

Bucky just smiles, big and genuine, says “look at you, feedin’ yourself, I’m so proud,” like he really means it. Tony swallows thickly, heart thundering in his chest and an addictive warmth spreading through him. That still doesn’t mean he lets Bucky get away with trying to steal his bacon, though.

And okay yeah, Tony feels a little bad, if he stops to let himself think about it. Feels like a bit of a creep, but only a little. Because it’s not like Bucky knows that every tiny nice thing he says goes straight to Tony’s head. And his heart. And also a little bit to his dick. Just like Bucky doesn’t know that Tony has had a big useless crush on him for like a year now and really, what’s one more secret?

And besides, unless Tony is actually as out-of-touch as some people like to accuse him of being, it almost seems like Bucky is happier too. Like for some reason he actually likes keeping Tony alive and functional, and really, who would Tony be if he took that away? If Bucky gets some sense of accomplishment out of forcing Tony to get three square meals and eight-ish hours of sleep, then who is Tony to deny him?

It’s just one more tiny little secret.

-

Tony barely manages not to audibly sigh in relief as the reporter who’s been hounding him gets distracted by some kind of commotion over by the catering table and hurries away, lest he miss the story. Tony’s smile doesn’t slip, because he’s a pro, but it’s difficult. Tony loves his mother’s charity, he really does, it’s the only gala he doesn’t have to be convinced to go to, but he really wishes people wouldn’t ruin it by insisting on asking about Howard.

If Tony has to grit his teeth one more time and say that Howard was a ‘great man’ (debatable) or that he ‘always supported Maria in her causes’ (outright lie), then he’s going to snap and do something drastic. Like go raid the entire bar. Or cry.

“You don’t have t’ put up with that,” comes a voice from right beside him, and Tony jumps hard even though he’d know that voice anywhere. Apparently, Tony is even more tense than he’d realized, and the concerned look on Bucky’s face means he’s probably noticed too.

“I’m going to put a bell on you, almost gave me a heart attack,” Tony grumbles, clutching one hand to his chest and hoping like hell that they can just not talk about it.

Bucky hums thoughtfully, then grins and says “Sneakin’ with a bell, sounds like a fun challenge.”

“That is not the point of the bell,” Tony says seriously, pointing at him, and not letting his eyes drag down the line of Bucky’s body, no matter how much he wants to. No matter how good Bucky’s legs look in a well-fitted suit.

“I mean it,” Bucky says, smiling dimming a little, and so much for Tony’s attempts to deflect, “you know you don’t have to put up with that, right?”

“What?” Tony asks blankly, even though he doesn’t know why he bothers, he never gets away with playing dumb. Sure enough, Bucky fixes him with a flat look until Tony sighs and says “Yes, I kind of do.”

“No,” Bucky says, so firm and urgent that Tony is a little taken aback, catching Tony gently by the elbow when he tries to turn, tries to look for a distraction. “Maybe you have to be here, an’ maybe you have to play nice, but you don’t have t’ answer anythin’ you don’t wanna. And you especially don’ have to talk about him.”

Tony doesn’t know what he feels at this point, some mix of frozen and warm and fuzzy, flushed hot while ice runs through his veins, and he kind of can’t believe that Bucky has been watching him that closely-

“I don’t?” He asks and hates how weak his voice comes out, how unsure, but he’s been talking up Howard at these stupid things for as long as he can remember, it’s second nature, and no one has ever told him that he doesn’t have to in his his entire life-

“No, Tony,” Bucky says and his voice has gone soft too, rough and a little sad and he smiles crookedly as he adds “jus’ tell ‘em to fuck off if they keep tryin’.”

“Well I definitely can’t do that,” Tony huffs. Bucky’s fingers are still holding him so gently, thumb dragging over the inside of his elbow, making Tony shiver just as much as holding him standing.

“You’ll figure it out,” Bucky says, smiling a little wider again and tapping his thumb against Tony’s pulse through his sleeve, “you got that way with words, sweet talker, ‘m sure you’ll come up with somethin’.”

“You’re the sweet talker,” Tony grumbles, and Bucky laughs softly.

Not even half an hour later the same damn reporter corners him as he steps off the stage after his speech, asking the same damn questions, and Tony hesitates. Then he decides fuck it, throws out all his prepared responses, slaps on his sharpest smile and bites out “I’m not going to talk about that anymore.”

The reporter actually looks a little thrown for a second, then visibly steels his nerve and says “People just want to know what it was like growing up with-“

“No,” Tony says, smiling wider, sharper, “I’ve already answered that question what must be a million times by now, how about you go dig up one of those stories and republish that. I’m sure it’ll be better written that way, anyways.” The reporter is still sputtering as Tony turns and walks away, slips into a side hallway to pat himself on the back and maybe panic-breathe, just a little.

He’s barely slumped back against the wall before Bucky is right in front of him, breathing out “Oh, Tony.”

“Seriously, a bell, a big one,” Tony repeats, smile only a little wobbly as he drags his eyes up to meet Bucky’s, and then can’t help blurting out “Did I- was that... okay?”

“Perfect,” Bucky says instantly, jolting forward and then stopping, like he’d been about to pull Tony in for a hug before thinking better of it. Which is too bad, Tony could really go for a hug right now but it’s almost just as good when Bucky says “That was perfect, you did so good sweet thing, don’t you feel better now?”

“Yes,” Tony says with a heavy sigh, not even realizing how much he means it until all the tension bleeds out of him and before he can stop himself Tony is leaning forward to thump his forehead against Bucky’s chest, letting his eyes fall closed and breathing in the comforting, earthy smell of Bucky’s cologne. He just can’t take the warmth and open pride in Bucky’s gaze anymore, not without running the very serious risk of turning to a useless puddle of mush.

Of course, then Bucky’s right hand lands warm and gentle on the back of Tony’s head, wide palm cradling his skull easily and thumb stroking down the line of his neck, the other hand curled around Tony’s shoulder and pulling him a little closer. “So proud’a you, Tony, did so good, knew you could do it doll,” Bucky says softly, speaking directly against the top of Tony’s head while his fingers slide through Tony’s hair.

“I’ve told off reporters before,” Tony huffs, even though he doesn’t know why he bothers, Bucky apparently sees right through him, “I do it all the time. Did you miss when I snapped at one of them during that last press conference and Steve gave me disappointed face?”

Bucky just hums, taps his metal fingers against the curve of Tony’s shoulder blade. “Yeah,” he finally says, voice barely more than a breath, “For everyone else. Always makin’ sure the rest of th’ team never has to talk about anythin’ they don’t want to the press. Never cut yourself any slack like that, though, do ya?”

Tony’s breath catches in his throat, and how does Bucky do that?! He has no response, no idea what to say, absolutely never expected to be called out. Not on this. When Bucky makes a soft, expectant sound, like he’s actually waiting for an answer, all Tony can do is shake his head a little, careful not to accidentally dislodge Bucky’s hold on him.

“You’re worth it too, ya hear me?” Bucky asks, his hold on Tony tightening ever so slightly, one finger tap tap tapping at the back of Tony’s head until Tony finally huffs and nods. “Good boy,” Bucky says, still so softly, and if he notices the way Tony all but melts against him, at least he doesn’t say anything about it.

-

Tony shuffles down the hallway, frowning at his phone and glancing up every now and then just to make sure he’s not about to run into anyone. Considering he lives in a tower full of spies, soldiers, and other assorted superheroes, they all have surprisingly terrible situational awareness sometimes. And sure, it’s heartwarming that they can all let their guard down, at least a little, but he’s also a little tired of people tripping and breaking things because Thor likes to nap in hallways.

When he glances up and spots Bucky in his path, he steps to the side and barely has time for a “Hey frosty, Clint was looking for you. He was also holding a water gun, so I’d be careful.” After a quick grin Tony returns to squinting at his phone, and therefore does not see it coming at all when Bucky gently grabs his elbow and halts him in his tracks.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, an adorable little concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows. He also lets go of Tony’s arm, which is a shame.

Tony blinks, then glances down at himself. He’s not sure what gave Bucky the impression that something is wrong, if it was the stained and hole-littered jeans, the wrinkled shirt, or the fact that Tony apparently lost one of his socks somewhere. Huh.

“Yeah, fine,” Tony says and waves his phone a little, “just got a lot to do. You know how it is. Every day I receive emails, so on and so forth.”

“You got a headache?” Bucky asks, randomly, even though Tony does. It’s pounding right behind his eyes, and all along his temple, and throbbing in time with his heartbeat. All in all, it’s a high quality headache.

“No,” Tony says anyways, because he has things to do, and Bucky is making ‘go take a nap’ face at him. It’s a very specific face. “My head feels awesome, better than awesome, I gotta get down to the lab, so, you better be getting on with your water gun fight. Watch the furniture.”

Tony tries to step away again, before Bucky can guilt him into not working, but Bucky snaps a hand out and catches him by the belt loop on his hip. It’s everything Tony can do not to swallow his tongue.

“What you gotta do is take a break,” Bucky says firmly, and Tony is opening his mouth to ask if that means he’s invited to the water gun fight, but Bucky apparently sees it coming and cuts him off. “Go take a nap, Tony.”

“I don’t want a nap,” Tony whines petulantly and braces his bare foot against the ground, leans against Bucky’s hold and trusts him not to actually let go as Tony pouts at him.

“Then at least go lay down,” Bucky says, heartlessly. When Tony just pouts at him harder Bucky rolls his eyes with a soft huff and says “Do it an’ I’ll bring you somethin’ to drink.” When Tony opens his mouth Bucky immediately adds “not coffee.”

Tony gasps in horror, but Bucky remains unswayed. “Fine, hot chocolate,” he demands, leaning a little harder despite the way his worn jeans are gaping at the waist and more than likely to rip at any second.

Bucky considers, eyes dragging down Tony’s chest and probably counting the grease stains on his shirt, and finally says “Water an’ then hot chocolate.”

“Fine, I will go to my room and await my beverage delivery,” Tony says, already running mental calculations on exactly how long he has to run to the lab and grab his tablet then stash it somewhere before Bucky catches him.

“You goin’ straight to your room?” Bucky asks, one eyebrow raised, and damnit how does he do that?! Tony is seriously considering

Tony groans, then gives what Rhodey has assured him is the worst salute humanly possible as he says “Sir yes sir, Sargent Tastee-Freeze.”

Bucky grins with lots of teeth and tugs at Tony’s belt loop to pull him back upright again as he says “Good boy.”

Tony goes straight to his room, and Bucky’s smile when he finds Tony already curled up under a blanket with the lights in the room down low is totally worth it. The amazing hot chocolate is just a bonus.

-

“Tony,” Bucky says, voice frantic, “Tony, you gotta stay awake.”

“Hurts,” Tony complains, just in case Bucky hasn’t noticed that he’s bleeding out here. And he’s supposed to be the observant one.

“I know, I know it does,” Bucky says and his fingers are shaking as he brushes Tony’s hair off of his forehead. His other hand is incredibly steady as it presses a crumpled jacket to Tony’s bleeding stomach, making him groan pitifully. “You gotta stay awake for me, doll, jus’ stay awake.”

“Wanna sleep,” Tony says petulantly, because that sounds way better than being awake for all this agony. His eyelids are already fluttering shut and he’s not worried about the asshole that shot him, if Bucky is here then there’s nothing to worry about. Tony is pretty sure Natasha was around here too somewhere, but it’s surprisingly hard to remember.

“No no no, wake up,” Bucky says, voice cracking, and maybe there is something to worry about, if Bucky sounds that upset. Tony wonders what it is. “C’mon, wake up for me sweetheart, be a good boy and just- jus’ open your eyes.”

“Good?” Tony slurs out and cracks one eye open, just enough to see that Bucky’s face is wet and if Tony didn’t know better he’d think Bucky was crying.

“Yeah Tony,” Bucky says with a smile that’s entirely too shaky, sounding entirely too desperate, “jus’ be good and stay awake for me, give you all the fuckin’ cookies you want, give you anything.” His hand is on Tony’s cheek again, fingers so warm, and when Tony’s eyes start to fall closed again Bucky gives him the slightest of shakes and says “Hey, hey, c’mon doll, don’t you got some demands for me? Gotta stay awake to tell me what you want, baby.”

“Wanna be good,” Tony manages to croak out, struggling to get his stubborn eyes to open and actually focus. He almost wishes he hadn’t, because there’s something horribly stricken about Bucky’s expression, something startled and scared and it drags a pained noise out of Tony’s chest that has nothing to do with the blood pooling below him.

“Yeah?” Bucky asks after a pause and he’s shaking all over now, everywhere but his metal hand still pressed firm and agonizing over the bullet holes in Tony’s stomach. “Wanna be good for me, you gotta stay awake until the paramedics get here, can you do that sweet thing?”

“Gross, hate them,” Tony says, and Bucky’s laugh sounds more like a choked sob. Tony flails one hand up until he can grab weakly at Bucky’s shirt. “‘Kay, stayin’ awake,” he says and decides to not mention that he can taste blood with each word, instead tugging at Bucky’s shirt a little as he slurs out “just cuz y’re a worrier.”

“That’s real sweet of ya, darlin’,” Bucky says and at least his laugh sounds a little less ragged, a little less like it’s being dragged out of him.

Everything goes a little fuzzy after that, but Tony doesn’t let go of his grip on Bucky’s shirt until the EMTs start heartlessly cutting into his nice suit. Bucky doesn’t let go for even longer.

 -

Tony did something wrong. He doesn't know what, but he knows he did something. Which is just, Classic Tony.

Except he does know, he knows exactly what he did and the knowledge sits in his stomach like a weight. He made it weird. He hasn't seen Bucky since he woke up in the hospital. Not really. Because Tony made it weird.

He’s not even sure what he did, exactly, except possibly everything. He’s got this huge sad crush on Bucky, sure, but he’s had that for ages now, and Tony is dealing with it. He’s dealing with it fine. And okay sure, maybe Tony has been acting like a bit of a creep about it, lately, getting all warm and fuzzy and tingly anytime Bucky does something nice for him. Which Bucky does all the time, because he’s a nice person.

And now Tony has scared him off, somehow, between bleeding out mid-press conference and being discharged from the hospital. Painkiller-Tony probably said something to give himself away, that loopy bastard has no filter.

But Tony tells himself it’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe he’ll finally get over this stupid, useless crush now. It’s not like he feels cold and lonely without Bucky’s constant hovering, or anything. It’s not like the fact that Bucky will barely look at him hurts more than the multiple lines of stitches in his stomach, or anything.

It’s fine.

-

He shuffles slow and careful into the kitchen at stupid-o-clock in the morning, after his second (third?) night without sleep, and there’s no super soldier laying in wait to snatch away his coffee. And force feed him an obscene stack of pancakes. And bitch at him for not sleeping enough when he’s technically still recovering from his unintended run-in with multiple bullets.

The best he gets is Natasha telling him he looks like a zombie and throwing an apple at his head, which really just doesn’t have the same charm. Even if she does do it gently, while giving him concerned eyes.

So Tony gets his coffee, takes his apple, goes back to the lab and wakes up later that day with everything aching because he passed out sprawled across a worktable again. His back is sore and he’s hungry and his stitches burn from being hunched over for hours.

But it’s fine. Tony is fine, he’s an adult, he’s been barely-taking-care-of himself for years. It’s fine.

-

Bucky is still around, is the thing, he still cracks dry jokes at Steve’s expense and hoards all the blankets on movie nights.

He still wanders down to the lab to play with the bots, but it’s not as often. Not that Tony has made charts, or anything, just to prove to himself that it’s not all in his head. He brings down plates of food, also less often, and doesn’t stick around to make sure Tony eats them. Tony never plans to, plans to shove the food away for a proper pout, but after the third time he finds himself finishing off the plate and halfway through texting Bucky about it before realizing better, Tony gives up. He switches to just eating as soon as Bucky leaves the lab, and he doesn’t even have to lie to himself that it’s just a different form of pouting.

When Tony tracks him down to hand over some new body armor, Bucky still thanks him with entirely too much sincerity, like he still doesn’t realize that this is just what Tony does. It still makes Tony’s heart lurch and his stomach swoop and his face heat, but when Tony goes to run away because he still doesn’t know how to deal with that, Bucky doesn’t stop him.

Bucky still watches his back in every fight and suggests weird sci-fi books, still leaves leftovers with Tony’s name on them in the fridge just like he always has. Tony still has his friend, is the thing, and when he tells himself that’s all he’d ever expected it’s not even a lie.

-

JARVIS is the one to gently remind him when it’s time to have his stitches removed, Tony is nearly overwhelmed by the sudden urge to cry. Because he can’t remember the last time Bucky wasn’t the one dragging him down to medical for boring things like follow up appointments, bribing him with baked goods and smiling all the while.

Tony is tempted to just remove them himself, he’s so tempted. Because it’s not like he can’t, it’s what he used to do before Bucky started his whole ‘aggressive mother hen’ routine. He even has the tiny scissors in hand, sterilized and everything, but he can’t stop picturing that sad little twist to Bucky’s lips, the way his eyes go wet and pained when he catches Tony doing his own first aid. And Tony can’t even lie to himself that Bucky doesn’t care anymore, because they’re still friends, it’s not like Tony can exactly blame him for needing space now that he almost definitely knows Tony has feelings.

Eventually Tony throws down the scissors so aggressively that DUM-E makes concerned beeping noises at him, and he definitely gets some weird looks when he stomps into medical grumpy and painfully alone. No one asks any questions about it though, about the sudden Bucky-shaped hole in his side, and Tony wonders just how miserable he must look.

-

He nearly runs straight into Bucky in the hallway at something-past-midnight, and it’s all Tony can do to not spill his extra large mug of coffee all over both of them.

“You give me one more heart attack and I’m actually putting that bell on you,” Tony threatens, clutching his mug close to his chest even though odds are pretty good Bucky isn’t going to try and take it from him anymore.

Sure enough, Bucky only makes sad-eyes at his coffee for about two seconds, then drags his eyes up to Tony’s face and says “Just make sure they sound extra Christmas-y, to fit with my whole ‘winter’ vibe.”

Tony laughs and tells himself that this is fine. He still has a friend, still gets to enjoy Bucky’s weird sense of humor, still gets to see him around in the common rooms and that’s plenty, it’s fine. He almost manages to believe it. “Christmas anti-stealth bells, your wish is my command,” Tony says, nodding seriously. And then he raises his coffee to his lips and takes an obnoxiously loud sip, doesn’t know why he does it except that he absolutely does, stupidly trying to bait Bucky into snatching it away from him, insisting Tony take it easy, get some sleep some time this week, something.

All Bucky does is make sadder-eyes at him, which is not what Tony had been going for now he feels terrible. Bucky opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then shuts it again, and honestly that’s worse than the way Tony’s stomach still throbs dully anytime he laughs, it’s an aching hurt that settles deep in his chest and makes it hard to breathe.

“Well, I better get on it,” Tony says and takes a shuffling step back because he doesn't know what else to do, he doesn’t know how to fix this. He’s tried to stop having this big stupid crush, fuck has he tried, but he can’t. It just gets worse and Tony is starting to think he’s never getting over it, just one more chronic ache he’ll never shake.

Tony needs to go, he needs to get out of here and go put himself back together so he can stop doing this to himself. But when he turns too quickly it sends a sharp pain lancing through his gut and Tony can’t quite stop the hiss that slips out of him. He doesn’t stop moving though, just pushes through and keeps his steps as carefully measured as he can, even when Bucky makes a soft, wounded noise that sounds like he’s trying to swallow it down.

Bucky doesn’t actually say anything though, and soon enough Tony is alone in his room holding a mug of coffee he’s just now realizing he doesn’t even want. He dumps it out in the sink, crawls into bed for another good pout and ends up falling asleep for eight hours.

-

So Tony keeps feeding himself and getting a good night’s sleep every so often. He even waits until he’s officially cleared by the doctors to start demanding to be let back into the field and he drinks the occasional glass of water. He keeps doing all those things even after he stops hoping Bucky will ruffle his hair and call him a ‘good boy’ in that tone that’s somehow the perfect mix of fond and amused and bossy and maybe just a little condescending.

Because they’re still friends, and Tony doesn’t want to ruin that too. He doesn't want to keep making Bucky make sad-eyes at him across the lab when he catches Tony chewing on coffee beans to keep himself awake, holding a half-melted ice pack to his face and squinting at his screens.

So maybe Tony has a big sad crush, and maybe Bucky figured that out somehow. Probably the fact that Tony got inappropriately tingly when Bucky treated him like a particularly stupid house pet, because Bucky has completely stopped. Tony is not letting himself think about how much he misses it, because that’s not the point.

The point is that they’re friends, and if it makes Bucky sad when his friends can’t take basic human care of themselves, well the least Tony can do is try to do better. It was just a lot easier when he could look forward to Bucky patting his head and calling him ‘good’ in that way that sent heat spiraling through Tony’s entire body.

But whatever. Tony manages.

-

“We should order pizza,” Tony announces, marching into the common room and nearly shouting to be heard over what appears to be half the team heckling a baking show.

“Are you trying to start another screaming match?” Steve demands, giving him a horrified look, “this tower cannot agree on pizza toppings, we’ve learned this.”

“I’ll just order everyone their own, no screaming, no problem,” Tony says dismissively, “I just finished with an all-day meeting that could have lasted an hour tops and I’m starving and the only thing that can make it better is pizza.” He ends his declaration with a whine and a little stomp of his foot, and tells himself that the sound of Bucky’s quiet laugh doesn’t make his chest warm. He needs to get better at lying to himself.

“But then I still have to see the abomination Clint calls a pizza, and how am I supposed to eat like that?” Sam demands, shooting a look at Clint who’s already half on-top of his arm chair and drawing in a huge breath to no doubt shout his rebuttal.

“I’m still going to do it,” Tony says gleefully, drowned out by the onslaught of yelling and already pulling out his phone.

“Are you happy now?” Steve demands as Sam and Clint start whipping throw pillows across the room at each other while Bucky laughs, egging them on and tossing Clint more ammo.

And yeah, Tony kind of is.

-

Someone walks into the workshop and Tony’s head snaps up, but it’s just Clint. Tony is not disappointed.

“Stop giving me that look,” Clint says, pointing one finger at Tony’s face. “Bucky wanted me to come down here and remind you to go to medical. He also told me not to tell you he told me to, but I’ve conveniently forgotten that part.”

“Convenient for who?” Tony asks with a huff of laughter, and ignores the way it makes his stupid heart feel all warm that Bucky still worries, at least, even if he doesn’t actually want to come down and face Tony’s crush himself. It’s still something.

Clint ignores him in favor of poking at the things scattered across the worktables, never mind that most of it is weaponry of some kind, and when Tony throws a screwdriver at him Clint spins around with an unimpressed look. “What’s up with you two, anyways? You’re being weirder than normal,” he demands, throwing the screwdriver back.

“Go tell him I’ve already been,” Tony says, barely managing to catch the tool before it hits him in the face, “my stomach is fine, they just taped up my ribs and gave me a tetanus shot. Tetanus!” And no, for the record, Tony had not spent the entire time thinking about how Bucky probably would have let Tony hold his hand, if he’d been there.

“Go tell him yourself, you incredible idiot,” Clint says, and then starts poking at dangerous things until Tony kicks him out of the lab.

-

“Why are you up before noon and looking like you actually slept?” Video-call-Rhodey demands, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, “who are you and what have you done with Tony?”

“Fuck you, platypus,” Tony says pleasantly, “that’s hurtful, I know how to adult.” The look Rhodey fixes him with in return is so unimpressed Tony’s can feel it in his soul, even through the screen.

“I have known you for years,” Rhodey says slowly, “and I can emphatically say that no, you do not, and- Are you drinking water?”

“What? No,” Tony says, lowering his glass of water back out of frame. Rhodey continues to stare him down, and Tony just stares back, because there is no way they’re getting into this. Tony wouldn’t even know where to start, at this point.

He passes Bucky as he turns the corner towards the elevator, and Tony really wishes he had the time to ask what Bucky is grinning so wide about. As it is he has a meeting with Pepper to get to and best-friend-questions to avoid.

-

“You know what Steve,” Tony snaps, because he can’t take it anymore. He’s exhausted, he’s sore, he has a ton of work to do and he’s tired of being yelled at for shit that’s not his fault. He’s also tired of the sad look Bucky is giving him, like he thinks Tony can’t see him, like he thinks Tony doesn’t know that he doesn’t deserve this.

Steve actually falters, words trailing off as he blinks at Tony because yeah, Tony usually calls him ‘Rogers’ when he’s pissed, or at least ‘Cap’. And yeah it’s one of Tony’s favorite ways of distancing himself, what of it? He can feel Bucky’s stare like a physical weight on his chest, he’s frustrated enough with himself as it is, and Tony doesn’t want distance.

“I’m not a magician, okay,” Tony grits out, doesn’t snap it, keeps his voice even and clenches his fists to keep them from shaking, “hacking an encrypted system takes time, and it takes processing power. Processing power that is limited when I’m also using it to pilot the armor, so yeah, I hacked it as quick as I could, and if that’s not good enough then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Steve gapes at him for a second, eyes wide and mouth hanging open and Tony really wishes he could feel better about accomplishing that right now. “Oh,” Steve finally says, and Tony can’t help but notice that the debrief room has suddenly cleared out around them. “I- I didn’t-“

This is usually the part where Tony would jump on that moment of hesitation, tack on a couple barbs to easily push Steve from thrown-off to angry. It’s surprisingly easy, Tony has practically made an art form out of it. Because Tony is so much better at knowing what to do with people when they’re mad at him. But right now, Tony is tired, and he really needs a shower, and he really needs to get down to the lab and figure out how to up the power in the suit, make sure he doesn’t get caught unprepared again.

And yeah, Tony can still feel Bucky staring at him, and Tony doesn’t know how much longer he can stand it without breaking down and doing something ridiculous. Like demanding a hug. Or to have his head patted, or for reassurance that he did okay. And Tony doesn’t get that anymore, never should have had it in the first place, so he just turns and leaves.

Tony has nearly made his escape, and he’s managing to keep it together, right up until he catches sight of Buck’s face. Tony has spent a lot of time cataloging away all of Bucky’s expressions, telling himself the entire time that he’s not a creepy obsessed weirdo, and he’s never seen that face before. Some mix of happy and surprised and proud, and a hundred other things that Tony still hasn’t been able to figure out how to deal with. Seeing it less often apparently doesn’t stop Tony’s heart from lurching dangerously at the sight of that warm smile, doesn’t stop his stomach from working itself into a tight, heated knot.

No one follows after him, and after turning a couple corners blindly Tony finally lets himself slump back against a wall, just for a second. Just to try and catch his breath, try to fight down the warmth rising stubbornly in his chest.

-

Tony likes doing his test flights of the suits around dusk, when he can help it. He likes watching night fall over the city, likes watching the colors of the sunset give way to the bright lights that come to life in every window.

When he finally heads back for the tower he aims for the roof, figuring he’ll have the suit drop him off and then take itself down to the workshop to start running diagnostics on the new settings without him. It’ll take a while anyways, and Tony hasn’t had dinner yet. And for some reason, all of Tony’s friends seem weirdly invested in his eating habits and are weirdly thrilled when he remembers to do it. Tony is even doing a better job lately of convincing himself there’s not one friend in particular he’s trying to thrill.

Once the armor zips off towards the entrance on the workshop level the roof is dark, and Tony very nearly trips over Bucky on his way to the door. He makes an embarrassing squeaking noise but manages to keep his balance, only wincing a little as his toes throb because fuck what is Bucky’s shin made of?!

“Woah, shit, excellent lurking there, Frosty, truly A+ work,” Tony says, clutching at his chest, and he’s about to re-suggest his whole ‘put a bell on you’ plan when Bucky actually drags his eyes up from the ground to fix on Tony instead.

Bucky looks terrible. Which of course means he’s still one of the most gorgeous people Tony has ever seen, but the dark circles under his eyes hit Tony like a blow to the chest. Bucky’s hair is a mess, lines around his eyes deep and pronounced and he looks tired in a way that seeps straight down into your bones, eats you alive. Tony knows that feeling all too well, but he has no idea what to say in the face of it.

He doesn’t need to ask if Bucky is having a rough couple of days, it’s painfully obvious, and he knows Bucky isn’t going to talk about it if he doesn’t want to. And he very rarely wants to. It would certainly explain why Steve was looking for him yesterday, if Bucky has been hiding out avoiding everyone, which probably means that Bucky has been sitting out here on the roof for who knows how long and will continue sitting out here until he feels like a person again.

The fact that Bucky doesn’t say anything, doesn’t uncurl from his protective huddle against the wall, just stares up at Tony with shadowed eyes, means that he’s definitely not there yet. He barely even twitches when Tony’s stomach growls loudly, just raises one eyebrow slightly even though Tony is pretty sure that was loud enough for people down on the street to hear.

“I’m on my way right now!” Tony defends before Bucky can start making sad face at him, because that is probably the last thing Bucky needs right now, to be worrying that Tony is somehow going to starve to death without constant supervision. Bucky’s lip twitches in the barest hint of a smile, and Tony is absolutely going to count that as a win.

He’s about to leave, head inside and leave Bucky alone to his rooftop creeping, but then something occurs to him. If Bucky has been hiding out away from everyone, it stands to reason that he hasn’t been to the kitchen for food recently. There’s always someone in the kitchen. Tony hesitates for a second, and then decides fuck it. They’re friends, and fair is fair.

“Come on Snowflake,” he says firmly, no room for arguments, and holds out one hand for Bucky to take. “I’ll make you one of my specialties. Do you want a lumpy sandwich, or cold cereal?”

Bucky’s lips twitch ever so slightly further up as he takes Tony’s hand and pulls himself to his feet, and Tony is going to call that a resounding fucking victory.

-

Bucky loves sci-fi. Even worse, he loves cheesy, horrible sci-fi, and he gets a particular kick out of movies that are so inaccurate they send Bruce and sometimes even Tony into fits of rage.

It’s a serious problem, because Tony loves that Bucky loves shitty sci-fi. It’s hopelessly endearing, and Tony is pretty sure it’s only a matter of time before he full on breaks down crying at the entirely-too-adorable sight of Bucky on the couch amid a mountain of blankets, happily humming along to the Stargate Atlantis theme song. Tony is only human, okay? He’s just trying to head back to the lab with his lunch and there’s only so much he can reasonably be expected to withstand.

It’s also a problem in that Bucky tends to get caught up in binge watching something and forget about things like sleeping, or the ever important feeding his super appetite. Which Tony gets, he really does, he is no stranger to getting wrapped up in something and forgetting everything else, so instead of suggesting Bucky take a break from his marathon at least long enough to get food, Tony just shoves his own plate into Bucky’s lap and leaves his glass of water on the coffee table with a pointed look.

Then he heads back to the kitchen to make another sandwich for himself, waving off Bucky’s stuttered, surprised-sounding thanks and refusing to let himself look back.

It kind of spirals out of control from there.

-

Tony sticks his head into the gym where, sure enough, Bucky and Steve are still having their stupid push up competition.

“Let’s wrap it up boys, it’s dinner time,” he calls, and then rolls his eyes when they don’t react at all. “Seriously, you’re both impressive, you both win beefiest belle at the ball, you can punch it out later,” Tony adds as he wanders closer, “Let’s go before Thor eats everything and then comes down here to show you both up.”

“Five minutes,” Steve huffs out between push ups, “He’s about to give up.”

“Like hell,” Bucky grumbles and does his next rep one handed so he can swat at Steve. It’s unfairly distracting.

“I’m evicting both of you,” Tony says pleasantly, “Just like I threatened everyone else with eviction until they gave in and agreed to order from that Korean-Mexican fusion place you’re both so obsessed with.”

“What?!” Steve demands, pushing himself upright on his knees to fix Tony with an affronted look, “why didn’t you say that?”

“Ha! I win!” Bucky says, still doing push ups and grinning at Steve smugly.

Steve looks so horribly offended for a second that Tony can’t help snorting in laughter. Then Steve grins wickedly, shoves Bucky over, and makes a break for the door calling “I’m gonna eat all your food, then we’ll see who wins!”

“Still a sore loser,” Bucky says with a sad shake of his head, pushing himself to his feet. A couple strands of loose hair cling to his forehead and fall around his face, his thin shirt clinging to his chest just right, and Tony’s life would be so much easier if he could just not.

Bucky is staring at him, curious tilt to his head, and Tony belatedly remembers to blurt out “Don’t worry Frosted Flakes, I hid your kimchi tacos at the back of the fridge where no one can get to them. Not that I know why anyone would want to.” The wide grin that breaks out across Bucky’s face still makes Tony’s heart thump dangerously, no matter how many times Tony tries to convince himself that it doesn’t, that it won’t next time. It always does.

“Thanks Tony, you’re the best,” Bucky says, all warm and soft and genuine, bumping their shoulders together gently as he heads for the door. Tony trails after him, face flushed and chest warm, and that was totally worth all the trouble of convincing Bruce that Korean-Mexican fusion is not a crime against humanity.

-

“You need to go lay down,” Tony says for what must be the tenth time since Bucky walked into the lab.

“I’m fine,” Bucky says, again, despite the fact that he is clearly not fine.

Tony waves both hands at Bucky, trying to encompass all of him, the fact that Bucky hasn’t changed or showered since the fight when usually that’s the first thing he does, the way that he’s just kind of standing there letting the bots poke at him instead of chasing them around the lab. “I can hear your spine clicking when you move, and I have normal human ears!” Tony insists.

“No it’s not,” Bucky says, but he’s holding himself suspiciously still. When Tony just stares at him, unimpressed, he adds “it’ll heal.”

“Yeah, if you go lay the fuck down and avoid killing yourself before then,” Tony says, and only barely resists the urge to throw a bolt at him. He’s pretty sure Bucky would just let it hit him in the face right now, and that’s not what Tony is going for. No matter how well it would prove his point.

“No," Bucky says flatly. Tony throws the bolt, and Bucky winces when it bounces off his chest but otherwise refuses to move.

"Then you're going to medical," Tony says, throwing both hands in the air, "I’ll call Steve and he’ll carry you there, don’t think he won’t. He will be delighted to do it."

“I’ll throw ‘im out another window,” Bucky grumbles, and when Tony makes a show of grabbing for his phone Bucky sighs out “fine, fine, I’ll go lay down.”

"Damn straight you will," Tony grumbles under his breath and then blinks in surprise when, instead of heading for the door, maybe back to his room, Bucky slowly makes his way over to the lumpy couch in the corner.

And Tony's not complaining, it absolutely makes sense for Bucky to lay down on the nearest available flat surface, but Tony had really been expecting him to leave. Keep up that friendly distance, and all that. Instead Tony is left just staring dazedly as Bucky lowers him half down onto the couch with a level of care that completely gives away how injured he actually is.

Once Bucky is settled he turns his head where it's propped up on the armrest, only wincing a little, and stares back at Tony. There's something considering in his gaze, and he's probably trying to figure out how long it'll take before Tony gets distracted enough to not notice Bucky making his escape.

After several long seconds of mutual staring, broken only by them both glancing over when DUM-E gets tangled in the blanket he's trying to bring to Bucky and starts beeping in distress, Bucky finally breaks the silence. "Don't I get a cookie?" he asks slowly, innocently, like he has no idea that the reminder sets off an explosion in Tony's chest.

"I already gave you one of my favorite bolts, what more do you want from me?" Tony complains, turning back to his workbench so hopefully Bucky won't notice that his face has no doubt gone bright red.

"Somethin' edible, preferably," Bucky says with a soft laugh that has warmth spreading out from Tony's racing heart and mixing surprisingly well with the sudden influx of butterflies in his stomach.

Tony tells himself that it's fine. They're friends. He's glad that Bucky is comfortable enough to hang out in the lab with him again, making dumb jokes. All Tony has to do is not make it weird. Again. He can totally do that.

He doesn't have any cookies, but Tony does share his terrible energy bars, and when Bucky dares to complain about how terrible they are Tony throws a couple more bolts at him. Injured or not, he can't let that stand.

Eventually Bucky falls asleep, and Tony works as quietly as he can, and it's fine. It’s the closest to fine that Tony has felt in a long time.

-

Bucky’s nose scrunches up a little in disgust, but he doesn’t say anything. No one else seems to notice, arguing over their exact dinner order like it’s a life or death ordeal. They are all usually armed, in some way, so hell it might be life or death.

Tony slumps a little lower in his armchair, just enough that he can stretch out and kick Bucky lightly in the foot. When Bucky looks over at him Tony gives him an expectant look. When Bucky continues to stare blankly at him Tony does a little ‘go on’ motion with his head, and then kicks Bucky again. Just for good measure.

Bucky’s eyes widen, just a little, and then he blurts out “I hate sushi.” Everyone stops to stare at him, and Tony grins widely.

“What? Since when?” Sam demands, looking personally offended.

“Since always, it’s raw fish,” Bucky replies, throwing a pillow that bounces harmlessly off Thor’s head when Sam ducks. “Just get me some rice or somethin’, ‘s long as it’s cooked,” he adds and easily swats Sam’s return pillow away from him.

Steve immediately starts reading off other options from the menu, and Tony continues grinning all through the rest of the ordering process. He’s a little surprised when he looks over to find Bucky smiling back at him, something small and strangely delicate, and Tony just hopes his face isn’t as warm as it feels, hopes it doesn’t show that he’s melting inside.

-

Bucky has been giving him this look, lately, and Tony has no idea what it’s supposed to mean. It’s somewhere between surprised and considering, like he’s putting together the pieces of a puzzle he didn’t even know he was looking at. It’s mildly terrifying.

If he didn’t know better, Tony would think Bucky has figured out about his super secret crush, but that can’t be right. Bucky had already figured that out... right? And if that was the case he definitely wouldn’t suddenly be hanging out with Tony more, he’d be running even further away.

Tony is kind of tempted to avoid him, avoid that look entirely, because as long as he doesn’t know what it means it can’t mean anything bad. The problem with that plan, is that Bucky is suddenly everywhere he turns.

He stumbles out of his lab and it’s like Bucky is just laying in wait so he can drag Tony to the kitchen for an impressive lunch spread. And then he hangs out, watches while Tony gorges himself on soup and sandwiches and leftover donuts, and when Tony shoves the last donut towards him Bucky’s thoughtful little smile gets wider.

Tony doesn’t know what to do with that, or what to do with the warmth that lingers in his chest all day, growing something that feels dangerously like hope. Maybe he should give that avoidance plan another shot.

-

He makes it a full day. Mostly by hiding out in his lab the whole time. When he shuffles out, rubbing at his tired eyes and aching everywhere, Bucky is there before he makes it ten steps out of the elevator onto the common floor.

“What have I told you about sleeping?’ Bucky asks with an exasperated sigh that does not at all take away from the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, both hands coming down on Tony’s shoulders to stop him in his tracks. “And don’t say ‘it’s for the weak’, or I swear...”

Tony hums thoughtfully, then grins up at Bucky, who is standing so very close. If Tony were less sleep deprived he’d probably be more worried about that, more worries about what he’s giving away as he leans into Bucky’s chest ever so slightly. “Must have escaped my mind,” he finally says, grinning wider when Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I believe it was that you need to sleep, Tony,” Bucky says and uses the hands still on his shoulders to spin Tony in place and point him back towards the elevator. He leaves his hands on Tony’s shoulders, which is probably a good thing because Tony is dimly aware of the fact that he’s swaying in place. “Go on, before your zombie face scares Bruce again,” Bucky adds with a soft laugh.

“That was one time,” Tony protests, digging in his heels as Bucky starts pushing him towards the doors, “and I’m hungry.” The last part comes out nearly as a whine, and Tony doesn’t even try to stop it because this is all Bucky’s fault in the first place. Him and his regular meal schedules, and his insisting that Tony follow them.

“Nuh uh, I know how you are,” Bucky says, giving him another little shove towards the elevator, “you’ll go to the kitchen and then you’ll get distracted and I’ll find you five hours later half asleep and having a staring contest with your reflection.”

“Again, that was one time, and I had been up for days,” Tony says with a huff, then squeaks when the heels of his worn sneakers slip against the floor and Bucky’s grip on his shoulders is the only thing that keeps him from falling on his ass.

“Go get ready for bed, doll,” Bucky says and he’s definitely laughing now, “an’ I’ll bring you somethin’ to eat.”

“I want waffles,” Tony demands petulantly and finally stops leaning back against Bucky’s shoving, starts moving towards the elevator instead.

“Waffles, you got it,” Bucky says, all warm and amused, and his hands finally fall away from Tony’s shoulders. There’s a second where Tony starts to shuffle forward, elevator doors already dinging open, and he hears Bucky start to turn back down the hallway, and then Bucky’s hand lands on his head and Tony freezes in his tracks. He’s not even breathing, just holds himself perfectly still as Bucky ruffles his hair.

When Bucky steps away and his footsteps disappear down the hallway Tony is finally able to drag in a ragged breath and start his forward shuffle again. He spends the entire elevator ride thinking it’s a good thing he’s already half asleep, or he’d be really freaking out right now about what this all means.

Tony is slumped down low on his couch and poking at his phone when Bucky turns up with the promised waffles, but it’s totally worth the wait because the waffles are hot and fluffy and covered with the perfect amount of syrup. After Tony eats them all Bucky smiles at him warmly and says ‘good’, and what’s left of Tony’s poor batted soul feels like its been dipped in warm honey.

Tony doesn’t actually remember falling asleep, and he definitely doesn’t remember Bucky carrying him to bed, but he wakes up later curled under the blankets with his socks still on and oh look at that, he’s awake enough to start freaking out again.

Because Tony had been pretty sure he’d ruined everything, given himself away, and now everything is back to normal. Maybe even better. And Tony has no idea what to do. He doesn’t know what’s changed, and he doesn’t know how to not ruin it again.

-

Tony is heading for the gym, figuring he might as well accomplish something if he’s too angry to sleep at three in the morning. Sure, he’s exhausted, but maybe if he gets some of this energy out he’ll be able to sleep. And it won’t even be the first time someone has found him blissfully passed out on the gym floor in the morning.

He passes Bucky in the hallway, and it’s somehow both a surprise and not surprising at all when Bucky catches him by the forearm and pulls him to a stop. His eyes move over Tony’s face, and at least this is an expression Tony recognizes, it’s Bucky’s ‘figuring out why Tony can’t sleep’ face, and it’s a game Bucky is disturbingly good at. Even if it’s been awhile since he last played, not that Tony is letting himself think about that. Much.

“Hey freezy-pop, just heading to the gym,” Tony says and aims for an easy smile, but Bucky frowns at him and doesn’t let go. Not that Tony is actually trying to get free, that would mean losing the warmth of Bucky’s skin against his.

“People problem or math problem?” Bucky asks with a crooked little grin and Tony really hopes it doesn’t show how much it makes it heart leap that Bucky knows that.

“People problem,” Tony says before he’s even aware he’s going to say it, and then sighs as it feels like something tense inside him starts to unravel. “Huge people problem. The board is trying to slip some shady shit past me again, and I have to wait until morning to yell at them. Because I’m, and I quote, ‘not allowed to wake the old bastards up to yell at them’ any more. But I want to, I’m all riled up now and I want to bite some heads off.”

Bucky’s smile gets a little toothier and his gaze flickers down for just a second before he says “As much as I enjoy watchin’ you bite heads, prob’ly not a good idea. Might give ‘em a heart attack.”

“Which would be a bad thing, because...” Tony says and waves his hand in a ‘go on’ type motion.

“‘Cause then Pepper will kill you with her shoes,” Bucky says, very seriously, and damnit he’s right. Down to the exact threat Pepper had used, and Tony’s heart gives another little lurch.

“And that is a thing I do not want,” Tony recites with a sad little nod, and then grins when Bucky laughs. “So that’s why I’m going down to the gym. I’m going to imagine their wrinkled old faces on the punch bags. I figure hey, punching bag therapy works for Steve.”

“No it doesn’t,” Bucky says with a snort, then gives Tony’s arm a gentle little tug and says “c’mon, come watch Star Trek with me.”

“You think you can just distract me with Star Trek?” Tony demands, “because you can. What episode are you on now? Should I grab popcorn? What am I saying, of course I should grab popcorn, come on I need your hands.”

“How much popcorn you plannin’ on eating?” Bucky asks, but lets Tony start dragging him towards the kitchen with a smug little smile, like he’s getting exactly what he wanted.

Tony’s heart gives another little leap, and apparently this is his life now. If he dies tonight, it won’t be from an anger induced aneurism, it’ll be from choking on his own stupid heart just because Bucky is taking care of him again. Because Bucky is smiling at him all warm and fond and a little awed, like Tony is the one doing something amazing.

“Also, I love it when math problems keep me up, that’s the dream. The metaphorical dream, obviously,” Tony rattles as he drags Bucky along by way of Bucky’s hand still on his arm, just firm enough to not lose his grip, thumb stroking over the inner bend of Tony’s elbow as he lets out an amused hum.

Bucky doesn’t let go even as they settle onto the couch with their own bowls of popcorn, just shifts his grip down to Tony’s wrist instead, tap his finger against the wild flutter of Tony’s pulse in time with the opening theme. Tony shovels more popcorn into his mouth, mocks the questionable science until Bucky starts good-naturedly shoulder checking him, and doesn’t let himself think about the fact that Bucky’s hand on his wrist is leaching all the tension out of his body better than anything else ever has.

And Tony especially doesn’t let himself think about the fact that Bucky is giving him that look again. Like he’s solving some kind of riddle. Or maybe like he’s already solved it, and he’s just waiting for Tony to ask about the answer. But Tony is terrified to ask, because fuck he doesn’t want to be wrong. Even more terrifying, he’s starting to think he might not be.

-

Tony isn’t sure how Pepper convinced literally all of the Avengers to dress up to the nines and show up for the fanciest and most painful charity gala of the year. She even got Clint into a tux. Tony does know how she convinced him, at least, which was with threats to both his person and his cars. It was very effective.

Tony is still pondering the mystery as he heads for the common room to round up the rest of the unwilling ceremonial social sacrifices, and instead finds only Bucky struggling with his bow tie. “Either I’m late, or everyone else is extremely late,” Tony says and doesn’t even try to hide his wide grin as he watches Bucky nearly strangle himself.

“It’s both,” Bucky grumbles, yanking at the ends of the bow tie so aggressively Tony is a little surprised the poor thing doesn’t tear, “Some of ‘em were here, but then Bruce spilled his tea all over him an’ Clint, an’ Steve laughed so hard he ripped his shirt. So they all went to change. I think Nat left without us.” Bucky drops his hands to his side and scowls at this reflection in the mirror above the bar, at the lopsided bow hanging loose around his neck.

“That’s why she’s Pepper’s favorite,” Tony says, laughing as much at the story as the defeated slump of Bucky’s shoulders as he starts unknotting the bow tie again. Before Tony can think better of it he’s stepping closer and tugging at Bucky’s arm, all wrapped up in soft black fabric that somehow makes his arms look thicker. “Stop, stop, you’re killing the poor thing,” he says as he grabs for the tie with his free hand.

“Good,” Bucky says with a pout that has no right being so adorable on someone so lethal, “I dunno why it’s bein’ so difficult. I can do a tie no problem, but this?” He whips the bow tie off his neck and eagerly shoves it into Tony’s hand as he declares “bow ties are bullshit. Do you have a clip on around here?”

“Bite your tongue, you heathen,” Tony tells him seriously and forces himself to let go of Bucky’s arm, only dragging his fingers along Bucky’s firm bicep a little in the process. Then he takes a deep breath and steps forward a little closer, until they’re pressed practically chest to chest, and says “Here, let me help you with this before you somehow injure yourself with neckwear.”

“Please,” Bucky says with a heavy sigh, his hand brushing over Tony’s hip just for a second before falling to his side. “I swear I’ve tried fifty times now, you’re my only hope. You always clean up so nice an’ I’m just tryin’ not to make a fool of myself.”

Tony tries to ignore what that particular choice of words does to him. Later, he can work himself up into knots over the fact that Bucky thinks he cleans up nice, thinks he always cleans up nice, like Bucky has been thinking it for a while. But that’s for later, for now he just has to focus on getting this bow tie in place so they can all get over to the stupid gala and live through the stupid night. And then he can go back to his stupid panicked pining.

Focusing on the bow tie turns out to be a little difficult though, because all Tony wants to focus on is Bucky standing so incredibly close to him, the way Bucky is looking at him, eyes half lidded and chin tipped up to give Tony better access to his throat. His first attempt looks even worse, too tight and the bow lopsided, and Bucky barks out a laugh.

“Do you actually know what you’re doing?” Bucky demands, play-swatting at Tony’s stomach, “Are you wearing a clip on?”

“You take that back!” Tony squawks, swatting back at him before he starts aggressively undoing the bow tie again. He needs to get it together, because the longer this takes him the longer he’s standing all up in Bucky’s space, and the more of a blushing mess he’s going to become. And if Bucky hasn’t figured him out already, which is something Tony still can’t get a definite, undeniable read on, then Bucky definitely will now.

Especially because Bucky keeps his head tipped back and smiles lazily in a way that has Tony’s stomach clinging up tight as he asks “Are you trying to kill me, is that what’s happening here?”

“Yes dear,” Tony says, sickeningly sweet, and gives an extra hard tug at one end of the tie, “I’m trying to kill you with a bow tie. Slowly.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, but his smirk gets wider and wider and finally Tony huffs out “Turn around, I can’t work like this.”

“Sure, much easier to strangle me from behind,” Bucky says agreeably as he spins in place to face the mirror again, and his reflection fixes Tony with an expectant look.

Before he can talk himself out of it Tony steps forward and up onto his toes, hooks his chin over Bucky’s shoulder to properly see what he’s doing in the mirror, and brings both arms up over Bucky’s shoulders. From this angle it only takes a couple seconds to get the bow tie perfectly centered and secured around Bucky’s neck, just like it only takes a couple seconds for Tony’s pulse to jump up to truly unsafe levels.

“There, told you I know what I’m doing,” he says with a smug grin and then can’t quite seem to pull himself away, can’t seem to break eye contact with Bucky’s reflection.

“Looks perfect, thanks doll,” Bucky says, low and warm, and raises one hand to gently grab Tony’s forearm where it’s still draped over his chest. Like he doesn’t want Tony to pull away.

“So how did Pepper talk you into this?” Tony blurts, which, all things considered, is probably the least damaging thing he could blurt out right about now.

“She pointed out that if the Avengers look good, it helps your company look good,” he says, like that’s any kind of explanation, still staring Tony right in the eye like that’s supposed to mean something.

“That- that’s not- what-,” Tony says, startled, taking an instinctive step back. Bucky doesn’t let go of his arm, just turns back to face him with his mouth already open to protest. “Seriously,” Tony says, cutting him off and feeling a little frantic for reasons he can’t name, doesn’t want to name, “That’s not something you need to worry about, what- why would that-“

“Hey,” Bucky says, soft like Tony is some kind of spooked animal, which, okay, that feels pretty fair right now. When Bucky gives his arm a little tug Tony steps closer, completely helpless against it. Then Bucky’s other hand is on his face, fingertips just barely brushing Tony’s cheek, the line of his throat, and cool metal thumb pressed oh-so-gently beneath Tony’s chin nudging his head up to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Hey,” he says again, “I want t’ make you look good, okay? ‘S the least we can do after all you do to make us look good. ‘Cause I know that can’t be easy.”

Tony just gapes uselessly for a second, breath caught in his chest, and he’s not sure when he grabbed two handfuls of Bucky’s tux jacket, but he doesn’t think he could let go if he tried. Finally he manages to drag in a shaking break and stutter out “w-we?”

Bucky smirks a little wider, taps his thumb against Tony’s chin, and confesses “I may have helped Pepper ‘talk’ some of ‘em into it.”

And Tony is right back to useless gaping, because what the fuck is he supposed to do with that?! Tony has never expected the rest of the team to worry about the effect their Avenging has on SI, that’s his responsibility, his problem to deal with, and he has the growing feeling that Bucky is trying to tell him something here but Tony is too busy trying not to hyperventilate to figure out what the fuck it is-

“I’m about to enter the common room!” Comes a sudden shout from the hallway, and Tony startles so hard that Bucky’s hand still on his arm is the only thing that keeps him from toppling over. “Please no one throw tea at me this time!” The voice continues and oh, that’s Clint. Of course, because they’re waiting for the rest of the team. Who will be here any minute, and Tony should probably get it together already.

“That was your own fault, an’ I think you know it,” Bucky calls back, smiling just a little ruefully as he drops his hands back to his sides. Tony untangles his hands from Bucky’s jacket and has to resist the urge to smooth out the slight wrinkles he’s left in the lapels.

“Now hold on just a minute,” Clint says as he bursts into the room to defend himself, wrinkled suit jacket only half on and waving a finger at Bucky and Tony sees his chance.

Tony runs. Sure, he says he’s going to get Bruce, but it is absolutely just a cowardly flee. He just needs a minute, he just needs to breathe, needs to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do with all the hope growing wild and unchecked in his lungs.

-

Tony gets home from a business trip and he honestly has no idea what time it is. He doesn’t even know what day it is, the only things he knows are that he’s jet lagged as all hell, and that he just wants to sleep.

When he gets to the penthouse there’s takeout from his favorite Italian place waiting on the table, still warm. There’s also a note that says ‘be a good boy and eat before you pass out for 12 hours’. It’s not signed, but at this point it really doesn't need to be.

He honestly doesn’t know what he’s expecting at this point, when he send a photo of the empty containers to Bucky with the caption ‘I want a cookie when I wake up.’

What Tony gets is an almost immediate response in the form of a picture of one of those chocolate-and-peanut-butter monstrosities that he loves, followed by a text that says ‘see you in 13 hours sweet thing’.

Tony wakes up almost exactly thirteen hours later, and he’s so far past wondering how Bucky does that. He’s also so far past his ‘avoid Bucky’ plan, all he wants to do is go find Bucky, get his cookie, and maybe even get the feeling of Bucky’s fingers ruffling his hair again.

So he does.

-

He’s heading for the elevator to leave for a press conference when Bucky and Natasha suddenly appear in his way, arms crossed and matching terrifying assassin glowers on their faces.

“Seriously, bells,” Tony says, clutching at his chest with the hand not clutching his to-go cup, “bells for everybody, I can’t live like this. I have a heart condition.”

They don’t laugh, but it’s not the usual ‘Tony please don’t joke about your heart condition’ not-laughing, and Tony is instantly on high alert, because something is going on here and he has a feeling he’s not going to like it.

The feeling only gets stronger when Bucky actually hesitates before slowly saying “I know you already talked t’ Pepper about this-“

“No,” Tony says instantly and he can’t believe he ever thought it was kind of sweet that Bucky talks to Pepper, that was clearly going to come back to bite him in the ass some day. Sure enough Natasha pulls out the very same body armor shirt Pepper had been waving at him this morning and Tony groans out “no.”

“You’re wearing the armor,” Natasha says flatly, and it’s completely unsurprising that she’s the one playing bad cop here.

“I am not wearing the armor,” Tony returns, just as flat, “because why would I? It’s a press conference, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could get shot again,” Bucky bursts out and his face is doing something truly fascinating, like he’s cycling through emotions too quickly for any of them to properly settle.

Tony can’t help rolling his eyes a little, because are they still on that? “What’re the odds that’ll happen again?” he says dismissively, “Smart assassins never try the same move twice, you know that frosty.”

Bucky’s face twitches harder and okay, apparently they are not yet to the point of joking about Tony’s recent gunshot wounds. Noted. “If you don’t wear the armor? Odds’re pretty damn high,” he growls out and yep, he’s even got his angry-eyebrows on. That’s usually reserved for Steve-levels of stupidity.

“You made this, it's the same material you use for all our gear,” Natasha points out, and okay, maybe she’s not ‘bad cop’ so much as ‘rational cop’. She holds the armor out to him, one eyebrow raised, and demands “are you saying it’s not good enough?”

“That is not what I’m saying, and I think you know it,” Tony says, narrowing his eyes because oh, that’s a low blow, how dare she imply he’d put his team in anything but the best. Her challenging smirk only gets wider, so Tony sniffs and drags his free hand over his chest as he says “I just don’t want to ruin the lines of my suit.”

“It’s the size of an undershirt, your figure will be fine,” Natasha says, but her lips twitch ever so slightly upwards.

Bucky remains staunchly unamused. “Yeah, I’m just gonna put the armor on you myself,” he says with a decisive nod, and Natasha gleefully hands it over.

“I’ll throw my coffee on you,” Tony warns, holding it up like a shield and taking a step back, “it won’t accomplish much, but then you’ll have to listen to me bitch about how I don’t have my coffee anymore. I might even cry.” Bucky keeps advancing on him, armor in hand and a determined look in his eye, so Tony pretends to fumble with the lid of his cup and warns “I’m talking ugly crying here, Bucky-bear, you’ve seen me without my coffee, it’ll be embarrassing for everyone, and-“

"Tony," Bucky snaps, standing right in front of him now, voice low and rough and cracking ever so slightly, "be a good boy and wear the damn armor!”

Tony's stupid heart trips all over itself. Natasha is somehow suddenly all the way down the hall, pointedly ignoring them while sipping Tony’s coffee, and when did she even steal that, and she is very clearly blocking Tony’s escape route. Not that Tony could actually flee right now if he wanted to, he’s much too busy just trying to stay standing under the force of the hot flush that rushes over him, stomach clenching hard and blood roaring in his ears. Tony can’t find the air to reply, can only stare, and Bucky’s face crumples a little further.

“Please, doll? I gotta know you’re safe, I can’t-'' Bucky cuts himself off, clenching his jaw, and Tony feels some confusing mix of horrified and elated. Because of course he feels terrible that he’s the reason for the terrified, pleading look in Bucky’s eyes, the reason Bucky’s right hand trembles slightly as he gives the body armor held between them a little shake. But on the other hand, Tony is the one who made Bucky look like that, cracked open and vulnerable, Tony did that. And oh, he knows that Bucky is letting it show, for him, it’s a gift that he hears the way Bucky’s breath hitches as he pleads “Just- jus’ do this for me? Be good and wear th’ damn armor so I can feel like you’re safe, will you do that?”

Fuck, Tony is pretty sure he’s going to die, he’s pretty sure the entire tower can hear the way his heart is racing in his chest, He has no idea how he’s supposed to respond to that, because all he really wants to do is take that single step it would require to bury his face in Bucky’s chest. But Tony knows he has to say something, anything, Bucky is still staring at him like he’s waiting for an answer, and it nearly knocks him off his feet all over again when he realizes Bucky has been waiting for an answer from him for a while now.

"O-okay," Tony finally manages, voice weak around the way his heart is lodged somewhere in this throat and already shrugging off his jacket so he can just take the stupid god damn armor.

"Yeah?" Bucky asks, voice pitched low, gaze heavy, so much in that simple question. It’s so new and so familiar and Tony is already nodding because oh fuck yes, anything Bucky is offering, anything he wants, yes.

Tony has to swallow thickly a couple times before he can actually say “Yeah, I- I can do that. Wearing the armor, being safe.” Being good, he doesn’t say, but Bucky’s eyes darken like he heard it anyways. Once Tony has finished tugging off his jacket and tie Bucky takes them from his shaking hands, and Tony can only manage a vague huff of protest as Bucky carelessly drapes them over his own shoulder and makes an impatient gesture with his free hand.

And here’s the thing, Tony is not generally what people would call ‘shy’. He left his shame far behind him about a decade or two ago and never looked back. But it’s Bucky, and he just keeps staring as Tony starts fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and Tony has a terrible feeling the flush on his face is spreading down his neck. He’s more or less gotten used to the scars that litter his torso, his teammates have all seen them and on a good day Tony even forgets they exist. He’s still getting used to the three new freshly-healed bullet holes scattered across his stomach, so of course that’s right where Bucky’s eyes settle and it’s all Tony can do not to fidget, not to snatch his shirt back out of Bucky’s hand.

Bucky’s fingers are warm as they trace over the shiny new skin, ticklishly light and unbearably gentle. “Jus’ wanna feel like I’m protectin’ you,” he says, voice barely more than a sigh, and Tony wants to protest that it’s not his fault but he can’t find the air. Instead all he can do is nod, scared to breathe too hard in case it dislodges Bucky’s fingers from tracing the edges of each slightly raised scar. Tony can’t help the soft noise he makes when Bucky’s hand falls back to his side, already mourning the loss of contact, and Bucky smirks just a little as he says “Arms up, babydoll.”

Tony definitely hears Natasha snort, somewhere down the hallway, but it’s pretty low on the scale of her ‘insulting snorts’ and Tony really doesn’t care right now. He’s too busy throwing his arms up so quickly that it’s a miracle he doesn’t smack Bucky in the face or dislocate his shoulder or something equally ridiculous. Bucky smirks a little wider but doesn’t say anything, just carefully slips the deceptively thin body armor onto Tony’s arms and then gently lowers it down over his head.

Bucky makes sure the armor is pulled all the way down, big hands running over Tony’s hips and the small of his back, and then hands back Tony’s shirt. “There y’ go, nice and safe for me,” Bucky says almost absently as he fixes Tony’s hair and Tony is mostly still just marveling at the open relief in Bucky’s eyes.

“You’re only paranoid because I’m an average squishy human,” Tony tries to accuse, mostly to distract from the way his hands are shaking as he does up his buttons, but it comes out wobbly because even he doesn't believe that anymore.

Bucky’s lips quirk up like he knows Tony doesn’t really think that, but he still says “Nah, I worry cuz its you,” voice soft, like he needs to be sure that Tony knows. His eyes are dark as he watches Tony settle the knot of his tie against the hollow of his throat, and Tony’s hands are shaking so badly that Bucky has to help him get his jacket back in place. “Didn’t even ruin th’ lines of your suit,” he adds with a smug little grin, running both wide palms down Tony’s chest, fingers spread wide, and there’s no way he can’t feel the way Tony’s heart is trying to beat straight out of his chest.

“Lucky for you,” Tony says, voice equally soft, and when Bucky’s hands fall away he drags in a ragged breath.

“Lucky me,” Bucky repeats absently, like he’s talking about something else entirely, and then leans forward. His grip is firm but gentle as he cups the back of Tony’s head with one hand, his lips are dry and soft against Tony’s temple, and Tony freezes up all over again. “Thank you, Tony,” he whispers, lips moving against Tony’s skin and sending shivers down his spine, “always so good for me.”

Tony makes a sound that he refuses to categorize as a whimper, and Bucky pulls away smiling amused and warm and amazed. When Tony steps onto the elevator he’s still trying to catch his breath, but his hands are steady.

-

“You should date me,” Tony blurts out that night, because he can’t not, anymore. Because he’d smiled like a loon all the way through the press conference, face still warm, and at the end Pepper had asked him if he had a concussion, half serious and half knowingly smug. Because the warm flutter in his chest still hasn’t faded. Because Bucky has been giving him that look, and Tony thinks he’s finally figured it out.

Bucky just blinks at him for a second, and okay yeah, maybe Tony could have picked a slightly better place than the middle of the kitchen. At one in the morning. When they’re both in worn pajamas, odds are unfortunately pretty good that Tony has the remains of his PB&J sandwich smeared around his mouth.

He probably could have picked some better words too, so Tony scrambles desperately for some and all he comes up with is “Or, I should date you. We should date each other. No, I mean- yes, but- fuck-“

“Yeah,” Bucky says, cutting him off and still blinking at him like he’s vaguely dazed. “Yeah, we- us. Dating. Yes. Okay.”

Tony blinks back at him, because that sounded a lot like Bucky agreeing to date him, but it also sounds a lot like he just broke Bucky’s brain. “Are you sure?” Tony has to ask, shuffling on his feet a little, “Because-“

“What- yes,” Bucky says, surprisingly vehement, lurching up from the stool he’s been sitting on. Tony dares to let a wide smile start spreading across his face. Still-

“I’ll be a good boyfriend,” he offers helpfully, and really wishes he could sound more sure of that. He’s damn sure going to do his best.

Bucky is up and across the kitchen in an instant, taking Tony’s face in his big, deadly, gentle hands and breathing out “Tony.” He’s moved from looking dazed to looking something almost like awed and he says “Tony, doll, you are already so good to me, I just want you.”

Tony shudders all over and he’s not sure when his hands landed on Bucky’s waist but he’s holding on for dear life. “Bucky,” he sighs, and then, because he’s weak, he begs “Say it again.”

And oh, Tony just knew that Bucky knew what he was doing, and he gets his proof because instantly Bucky tightens his grip, drags his fingers along the hollows behind Tony’s ears. “Gonna be my good boy, yeah?” he asks, breath hot against Tony’s lips, eyes dark and intent, smirk to die for.

“Oh,” Tony gasps and when he shivers Bucky just holds him tighter, pulls him closer, until Tony’s eyes fall closed and he’s clinging helplessly to the broad muscle of Bucky’s back. “I- oh,” he gasps again when Bucky’s thumbs trace along his cheekbones, barely catching his eyelashes, and Bucky’s answering laugh is everything. It’s happy and amazed in a way that makes Tony's chest warm and fluttery, dark and just a little condescending in a way that makes his guy tighten up in heated want.

“I see you, Tony,” Bucky says, low and rough and insistent, “I see everything you do for us, for everyone.” His lips trace the line of Tony’s brow in soft, feather-light kisses, and his voice is barely more than a breath when he adds “For me. Gonna be good an’ let me take care of you back?”

Tony is caught between the urge to nod frantically and the need to stay exactly where he is, Bucky’s hands cupping his face like the most precious thing he’s ever held, so instead he croaks out “Yeah, I- I can- fuck I want that.” Tony cracks his eyes open again, because it’s overwhelming, and he doesn’t want to miss it.

Bucky smiles, happy and proud and heated and a million other things that have warmth spreading through Tony’s chest, curling up tight in his gut, lighting up his entire body. “Can I kiss you, baby?” he asks, lips nearly close enough to touch already, and when Tony throws himself forward Bucky catches him easily, left hand sliding to the small of Tony’s back and pulling him in closer.

The first press of lips is electric, has Tony sighing out a soft noise and then Bucky’s hand still cupping his jaw tilts his head a little further back and Bucky licks his way into his mouth with a slow, consuming determination. Tony clings harder to Bucky’s shirt where it stretches tight across his shoulders and hangs on for all he’s worth, tries to catch Bucky’s tongue between his teeth and shudders when Bucky growls low in his throat.

Bucky’s thigh slots between Tony’s like it belongs there and Tony breaks away from the kiss with a shaking groan as he abruptly realizes that he’s achingly hard, soft cotton of his sweats damp and clinging and amazing. “O-oh, shit-“ Tony gasps out, helpless against the way his hips jerk forwards just once to grind himself against that thick thigh. “God, Bucky-“ he whines, ducking his head to pant against the curve of Bucky’s shoulder and then bites back a desperate noise when Bucky’s thigh nudges up against him a little harder.

“Tha’s real sweet baby, sound so good,” Bucky sighs out as his lips move over Tony’s hairline, down his temple, his breath as heated as his words. He shifts his hand a little lower, spreads his fingers wide over the curve of Tony’s ass and pulls him in encouragingly as he growls “C’mon doll, don’t stop, lemme hear you makin' all those pretty noises for me.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice, rolls his hips forward again with another muffled groan. “Bucky, oh my god-“ he whines and presses closer, until he can feel Bucky’s cock nudged up thick and hot against his hip. His legs shake and he just clenches them tighter around Bucky’s thigh, tucks his face into Bucky’s throat and grinds himself forward. The sweet friction against his cock has Tony gasping again, shuddering all over as fire races up his spine and his head spins.

“Good, so good sweet thing, fit so perfect against me, gonna take such good care of you, treat you just right,” Bucky says against the shell of his ear and presses his thigh up a little further, digs his metal fingers a little harder into the swell of Tony’s ass and pulls in time with the roll of Tony’s hips against him. When Tony moans and clutches at him tighter Bucky chuckles again, low and dark, and drags his calloused thumb along the line of Tony’s jaw as he asks ”Damn you’re easy for me, ain’t ya? Gonna come like this, grindin’ against me all desperate and shakin’ for it?”

It sends another wave of heated, slightly-embarrassed arousal crashing over Tony and all he can do is whine again because unless Bucky is planning on stopping him, then he absolutely is. At this point Tony couldn't stop himself if he wanted to, cock throbbing and leaking as he grinds himself against Bucky’s thigh, panting hot against the curve of Bucky’s throat.

He can already feel his orgasm building fast, feels like it’s been building forever now, and his voice is shaking as hard as the rest of him as he moans out “Bucky- please, I- I’m, I can’t, please-“ Bucky silences him with a scrape of his teeth over the shell of Tony’s ear that has him practically collapsing against Bucky’s chest, limp except for the way he can’t stop rutting himself against Bucky’s thigh, chasing the sparks that light up his body.

Bucky laughs again, just a low, warm rumble in his chest, and presses another kiss to Tony’s eyebrow before saying “You’re this worked up you better come for me now, babydoll. ‘Cuz I’m gonna take you upstairs an’ take my time with you, make you feel as good as you deserve an’ put you to bed real sweet, how does that sound baby?”

He somehow makes it sound like both a promise and a threat, and Tony chokes out a noise caught somewhere between a sob and a moan. “Y-yeah, fuck yeah that- oh- fuck please-“ Bucky’s fingers press a little more firmly against the base of his skull, sliding through his hair, and Tony feels like he’s burning.

“Good,” Bucky says, an uneven hitch to his breath and Tony can feel the way Bucky’s cock throbs against him, “Fuck, you’re so good sweet thing, so perfect, feel so good, sounds so sweet for me, c’mon Tony, wanna feel you fall apart for me.”

Every word settles hot in Tony’s gut, has his head spinning faster until all he knows is Bucky’s voice in his ear, Bucky’s hands firm and demanding against him, the rush of his own blood in his ear as the pressure builds inside him. His sweats are going to be ruined and Tony doesn’t give a fuck because he’s so close, thin cotton already soaked and clinging to his cock, thrusts of his hips gone short and uncoordinated as his fingers scramble at Bucky’s back.

“Bucky,” he moans out, completely shameless, and drags his teeth over the line of Bucky’s throat, just because he can. Because Tony still kind of can’t believe the way Bucky shakes and groans against him, pulls him in harder and meets every roll of Tony’s hips with one of his own. “God, you’re so- I, I can’t believe- oh- Wanted you so long-“

“I know,” Bucky says, surprisingly soft and something almost like sheepish. He presses his thumb a little harder to the underside of Tony’s chin and tips his head up again, making Tony gasp at the rush of cool air over his flushed face even as he keeps his eyes squeezed shut because it’s so much. He’s so close to breaking apart at every seam. Bucky’s lips brush against his and Tony whimpers even as Bucky says “I see you now baby, been taking care of me for so long, haven’t you? Been so good, takin’ care of yourself so perfect for me, shit- you’re so good for me doll.”

“Bucky,” he gasps again, so close to the edge, every inch of him tingling, burning, so close-

“Look at me, Tony,” Bucky says, barest edge of a demand to his voice and it still has Tony prying his eyes open instantly. Then he groans weakly because Bucky is right there, blue eyes gone nearly dark, wild and hungry and fixed on him like there’s nothing else in the world as he breathes out “now be a good boy and come for me.”

Tony’s orgasm hits him overwhelming and inevitable, leaves him moaning breathlessly and clinging to Bucky impossibly tighter. Bucky’s hand on his ass keeps pulling him in, dragging it out until Tony is shaking and nearly sobbing into the feather light brush of Bucky’s lips against his own as Bucky calls him ‘good’ and ‘perfect’ and ‘gorgeous’.

As soon as he gets back the bare minimum brain cells Tony tips his chin up to kiss Bucky again, blissed out and lazy and it makes him shiver all over again when Bucky clutches at him tighter with a deep groan. Tony has to break away from the kiss sooner than he’d like because he still hasn’t quite caught his breath, hasn’t been able to get his hips to stop twitching forward as aftershocks race through him.

“Damn,” Bucky sighs, one hand petting at Tony’s hair and the other gentling against his waist as Tony slumps against him fully, “Good boy, so good baby, so perfect for me. Let’s get you up into bed, huh? Spread you out real nice and get my mouth on every inch of you.”

And that sounds good, it really does, but Tony can still feel Bucky’s cock thick and hard and throbbing against his hip, and he wants it now. So instead Tony drops to his knees, moving quick enough that he slides easily out of Bucky’s lax grip, presses his face to Bucky’s hip and nuzzles his cheek against the clear outline of Bucky cock through his thin pajamas.

“Fuck-“ Bucky gasps and his fingers tighten in Tony’s hair, holding him in place as his hips jerk forwards. “Damn what a sight you make, you want it that bad, doll?”

Tony turns his head just enough to look up at Bucky, lips moving against the hard line of Bucky’s cock, and he’s never meant anything more as he breathes out “Please, honey.”

Bucky’s eyes get impossibly darker and his cock throbs, the scent of him thick and heady and Tony’s mouth is watering. “We’re still in the kitchen, baby,” Bucky points out, but he’s already hooking his thumb into the front of his pants.

“I can be quick,” Tony promises, smirking a little because Bucky’s hips keep twitching forward against him, parajams visibly wet where they pull tight over the head of his cock, and this isn’t going to take long at all. And Tony really, really doesn’t care right now that he’s in the kitchen in a tower full of insomniacs, all he cares about his getting his mouth on Bucky, making Bucky feel as amazing as he does.

Bucky groans out something that was probably meant to be Tony’s name, but Tony has more important things to focus on because Bucky shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring free and Tony wastes no time trying to choke himself on it. He’s so loose-limbed and orgasm-dazed that when Bucky’s cock nudges at the back of his throat Tony just keeps going, only gags a little even as his eyes water and a whine builds in his chest.

“Oh- fuck Tony, so good, you’re so good baby, so- fuck-“ Bucky’s every word comes out rough and gasping and his fingers dig harder into the back of Tony’s neck, hips jerking forward like he just can’t help himself.

Tony moans encouragingly and clings to his hips, presses his nose to Bucky’s stomach and swallows around his cock. Bucky pulls back and then thrusts himself deep into Tony’s throat with another shuddering groan. Then he does it again, and again, until Tony has spit and precome sliding down his chin and arousal building again, almost painful, in his gut.

“Good, fuck you feel so good, you’re so- Tony-“ The way Bucky groans out the compliments, practically snarls his name, sends a hot shiver down Tony’s spine and has shaking all over again.

There’s a desperate moan caught in Tony’s chest that comes bursting out of him when Bucky abruptly tightens his fingers in Tony’s hair and yanks him back, leaves Tony panting for breath. His protest dies away when he opens his eyes and meets Bucky’s gaze, dark and ravenous.

“Open up, sweet thing,” Bucky growls, metal hand flying over his cock and his other hand still holding Tony in place, so close to the flushed, leaking head of Bucky’s cock and yet so far.

Tony doesn’t even need to think before he lets his aching jaw fall all the way open and he doesn’t care that his face is wet, constant pleading noises slipping out of his raw throat. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling on the hard tile of the kitchen with his own come cooling in his sweats, all he cares about is getting more.

“Good boy,” Bucky gasps, and then finally comes. It streaks warm across Tony’s chin, the bridge of his nose, into his open mouth, and Tony lets his eyes fall closed again with a pleased moan as he runs his tongue over his lip, chasing the musky taste of him. “Fuck- shit, oh, Tony-“ the way Bucky groans out his name is going to stick with Tony for a long, long time, ringing in his ears, lighting him up, and Tony wants to hear it forever.

He’s still catching his breath when Bucky pulls him to his feet, into his arms, and Tony is all too happy to wrap his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, his shaking legs around Bucky’s waist, and let Bucky take his weight. “Okay, now we can go upstairs,” Tony slurs out as he drops his forehead to Bucky’s shoulder, voice rough, still feeling like he’s floating on air.

Bucky laughs, quiet and rumbling, and his hand is so gentle on the back of Tony’s head again as he tucks Tony’s face down into the curve of his neck. It’s definitely smearing Bucky’s shirt in come but if Bucky doesn’t mind then Tony certainly doesn’t care, just snuggles in closer and wonders if it’s actually possible for his heart to swell straight out of his chest.

“Whatever you want, babydoll,” Bucky says, warm and fond, presses a quick kiss to the side of Tony’s head and then starts carrying him towards the elevators. “Gonna take such good care of you, my good boy.”

Tony is pretty sure it’s not physically possible to get any closer, but he wraps himself tighter around Bucky and gives it his best shot and he mumbles “Gonna take care of you back.”

“I know you are, sweet thing, ‘s what makes you amazing,” Bucky says with another warm laugh, and Tony could probably argue that, because he’s really not, but he decides to let Bucky have this one.

For now. Apparently, they’ll have plenty of time to debate it later, over dates, and Tony is so looking forward to it.

-

Tony wakes up sore in places he didn’t even know he had, teeth marks on his shoulders and stubble burn on his thighs and just- deliriously happy. He can’t even try to convince himself it was some kind of crazy dream, because the physical evidence is kind of overwhelming. The other half of his bed is still warm, and there’s a telling clattering sound coming from his kitchen, and Tony decides he can afford to let himself lay here grinning at the ceiling like a loon for a while.

Soon enough Bucky is back with a giant plate of waffles and a wide smile, pausing in the doorway to drag his eyes down Tony’s bare chest. His hair is a mess and he’s unbearably gorgeous, and Tony smiles back as he realizes he can say it now.

“A beautiful man and breakfast? Help, my heart can’t take it,” Tony says, clutching at his chest with one hand even as he makes grabby motions at Bucky with the other.

“Not funny,” Bucky says, but he’s laughing as he sets the plate down on the nightstand and crawls back into bed, into Tony’s arms, and he’s still smiling softly when Tony pulls him into a kiss.

#The one where bucky gives tony a cookie and then watches him eat it #as i call it in my head #winteriron #buckytony #starkbucks #my fic

[baroquebucky]

taken with stevie rogers 🥺🥺🥺

a/n: get ready for the angst :’ ((

You and steve were sort of that unspoken relationship, the one where everyone knew about your feelings for each other so just assumed you were dating.

You had told steve countless times that you loved him, to make it official. He would only brush it off, saying something that would satisfy you in the moment but never really anything certain.

It was months of back and forth arguing, you telling him you just wanted something real, someone who you could call yours and only yours, he of course would take offense and switch it on you, causing you to breakdown and trying to explain what you wanted, he only pushed it aside.

You remember him slamming the door in your face, hot tears streaming down your face as you tried to apologize and you wished for him to understand where you were coming from. You sat with your back against the door, letting everything out. After waiting for an hour for him to open the door and tell you everything would be okay, you dozed off, your neck hurting when bucky moved you softly, carrying you to your room and scowling at his best friends behavior.

Steve heard every word. He heard the way your voice cracked but he couldn’t comfort you, he couldn’t love you how you wanted. After everything he still loved Peggy, how could he date you when he was in love with her still? You would never understand.

After that night you decided you where done with whatever you two had, you even confronted him, hoping he would say something, grab your wrist when you turned around and kissed you passionately.

“fine by me doll face” was all he said, turning on his heel and leaving, leaving you alone in the empty living room with a broken heart.

Of course you went through all the stages of post break up, having Wanda and Nat by your side, helping you through tears and going to clubs with you to help you forget, cuddling all together during movie nights and throwing food and bucky and sam when they entered the room.

That was months ago, now you were finally happy, free to do what you wanted and flirting with someone who was ready to give you their all, someone who actually put in the effort and surprised you with flowers. Someone who remembered every little thing you told them.

Steve hated it, he hated himself for not coming to his senses sooner, for not telling you what he felt sooner, so when he saw you come back from a date, smiling brightly and giggling about how perfect he was, all Steve wanted to do fight whoever the hell he was and make you his.

You walked down the dimly lit hall, a smile still on your face and you opened your room door slowly, already wanting to change into more comfortable clothes.

“y/n” Steve spoke, you froze in your tracks. You felt the blood rush from your face and your heart dropped.

“y/n please can- i just wanna talk to you” he whispered, coming up behind you, giving you some space. You turned around, a look on your face that he couldn’t read, you tapped your foot a little and nodded your head.

“i just- i need to change first” you mumbled, closing the door and changing quickly, your heart thumping in your ears and you slipped on your pajamas and opened the door to reveal Steve pacing the hall.

“where uh- where do you wanna talk?” you asked and he shrugged, “anywhere is fine” he responded and you nodded, letting him in your room.

“so what did you wanna talk about?” You broke the silence, shifting in your spot on your bed, he sat next to you rubbing his hands on his thighs before letting out a sigh and turning to you.

“I love you” he blurted out, your eyes went wide and you couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping a little, quickly you blinked and gained some composure.

“no” you shook your head, getting up from the bed and stepping away a little.

“i do, y/n- fuck im so in love with you, all those times i wanted to make you mine but i just couldn’t, i was still in love with Peggy but i realized that it doesn’t matter and i just want to be with you please” he got up, taking one step towards you.

You kept shaking your head, ‘keep your composure’ you told yourself, closing your eyes in hopes that the tears would disappear.

“Steve if you loved me you wouldn’t have left me hanging all those times, you wouldn’t have stood there watching me break down over you!” You claimed, voice getting louder and shakier by the moment.

“doll-” he began but you cut him off, shoving him slightly, he looked at you, tears rolling down your face and heartbreak and anger swirling in your eyes.

“you wouldn’t have walked away that night” you whispered, voice cracking, you looked at him with teary eyes, vision blurred.

“baby I’m sorry” Steve whispered, moving to hug you but you quickly smacked his arm away, wiping away your tears.

“Don’t you call me baby” you growled, anger consuming you. “You don’t have that right, get the fuck out of my room” you spoke, shoving him once more before wiping away at your tears once more.

“y/n please” Steve could feel his heart break in his chest, you were done with him, and that was his fault.

“i said leave!” You shouted, he looked at you one more time, before turning on his heel and leaving you alone one more time, this time though it was him who had a broken heart.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x you #steve rogers blurb

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder

TITLE: Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 27/ ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-dark midnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki falling in love with a Midgardian and his words to Thor about Jane during Dark World coming back to haunt him. “It would be a heartbeat. You would never be ready.”

RATING:  M for Mature

NOTES/WARNINGS: ~▪︎~FOR THE WHOLE STORY~▪︎~

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Check Masterlist. It's going to be a long read. I try to keep each chapter around 3,000 words.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

!-!TRIGGER WARNING(S)!-!

So many triggers, read ALL of them!

Swearing. Angst. Death. Depression. Violence. Self-harm. Regret. Carelessness for safety. Doubts. Torture. NSFW. Smut. Fluff. And Of Course- Mischief.

Summary: More training and Alicia's birthday 

 ~ ~ ENJOY  ~ ~

They found a base that had some information. Alicia had to use her enhanced strength and speed, her shield, and healing. Alicia was fighting an Asgardian Male and knew she had to finish this quickly but she just...couldn't. Alicia tried to go for a hit to his head but he grabbed her wrist, twisted, and gave a quick punch to the back of her ribs. She cried out and forced her shield out to push him away. She stumbled and she threw a blast of magic to his head. The man's body crumpled in a sickening way.

Alicia felt the nausea wash over her as the man laid lifeless.

Alicia was grabbed and swung through the air. Familiar red and blue suit, Peter's voice was rushed, "Peacekeeper you need to watch out. You almost got shot."

Alicia thanked him as he set her down. Alicia put a shield up to push a person down and Peter tied them with a shot of web. Alicia wished she had something like that. A comfortable restraint instead of her knockout tactics. She watched as Loki effortlessly finished three people without even faltering. Everyone was able to kill so easily. Steve tried to use knockout as well but if it didn't work he was able to just finish the job. Peter didn't kill because he didn't need to.

It seemed as if more people poured into the room and Steve ordered for the team to exit and to get Alicia out.

Alicia was swung down by Peter to the exit they were all going for.

Once at a safe base Steve went over the information they obtained.

Luit and Edward were at the last location. They move every week to new locations. There were always people at 3 buildings, about a mile from each other. In summary, those bases would be checked thoroughly.

Though nothing is known of Marcus.

Alicia went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea in an attempt at distracting herself. She missed taking care of herself. Something as simple as this made her happy now. She felt Loki place his hand on her back and kiss her head.

"It has been a long time since I have seen you do something like this."

Alicia sighed, "yeah… It has been a while… Would you like some?" 

Loki took the mug, forcing Alicia to laugh at his exaggerated humm of approval. Loki swore if she ever wanted to make tea she should, the servers just don't get it right. Alicia told him it was because she loved him the most and love was her number one ingredient. After making more tea for both of them they went over the mission privately.

"If you knew how to cloak yourself better and could do illusion, you could distract and knock out that way."

Alicia scoffed, "Emma just wants me to go for the kill…"

"I do too. However I am aware you refuse to do so. I want to make you as safe as possible."

Alicia felt her hand covered by his and returned the little squeeze. After they finished their teas Loki pulled her to a training room. He explained she needed to be fully aware of the thing she wants to show. To visualize the item from all sides and make sure nothing is flat. They started with just a piece of paper. Several hours of practice she got it. Then Loki found a box.

"Make sure nothing is flat, the box has larger dimensions than the paper."

Alicia concentrated harder and harder with each passing hour.

"You're not doing to well."

Alicia's concentration broke and the illusion disappeared in an explosion of white. "Natasha! You sneaky creep!"

Natasha rose an eyebrow, "that's the best you can do?"

With a glare turned smile Alicia replied, "What? Do you want me to outright call you a bitch? That's not insulting to most people. "

Natash shifted her weight to one leg. "So you going to go around stabbing people with illusions now?"

Alicia quickly explained, "What? -No. It's so I can distract and knock out."

Alicia saw Natasha's eyes go to Loki, "that's a much better way to use that spell."

Loki leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "the word "spell" instead of trick?"

Natasha shrugged, "I decided to make peace."

Alicia snickered, "because magic saved you before."

Natasha shrugged, "At this point… I believe anything is possible. Aliens. Magic. Tony changing a bit with a kid on the way." Natasha gestured to Alicia, "You have a future with a child?"

Alicia smiled at the floor, "I know. I never thought it would happen."

Loki confirmed, "You always desired it from a young age."

Alicia rolled her eyes once she realized he voiced information from her mind being linked to him during the telepathy training, "I guess." 

Natasha announced, "dinner is done. I will have your vegetables raw." She smirked.

Alicia accused, "that's a rabbit reference."

Natasha turned with a smirk, "just don't get caught."

The door shut and Loki muttered, "it might be a fantasy of yours."

Alicia glared at him. "Don't. Mind reader."

Loki gave a coy smile, "Honestly, it has given me a whole list of things you need...want..desire."

Alicia turned and went to the door but pulled him along. "Let's go eat. I'm getting moody." With a mutter, "you aren't helping much either."

Loki walked a little in front to see her face but she kept her eyes straight.

"Did I upset you?"

Alicia stopped once they were alone. She sighed as she crossed her arms in anger but with a glance she knew by the look on his face he was worried. Her hands held herself in a way to comfort and shield herself. 

"It's just… odd. For someone to know everything." Her eyesight clouded with tears as she looked away. "It made me feel vulnerable. I have never -no.-I said it a handful of times when I was younger that I REALLY wanted a family. As I grew older the reality set in that the target on my head would be passed down."

Loki encased her in his arms, "Alicia we get them -and you do have a child. We start a family. There is no need to worry."

Her voice broke, "But when?"

His hand pressed her head to his body, "It will happen."

Alicia was doing her best to not make audible sounds and to stop the shaking of her shoulders from silent cries. Her wrist burned with a flare of desire to slice it again. She held onto her wrist tightly and Loki pulled her to the side of the hallway.

"Shh.. It is alright. I have you."

Alicia was set down on his lap as he combed through her hair. He slightly rocked her and planted kisses along her head. While it was comforting, Alicia knew what she needed.

Alicia's voice was squeaky and forced around quiet sobs, "I need… Emma.."

"FRIDAY. Notify Emma of our location and have her sent here. Alicia requested her."

The AI responded shortly, "she is on the way."

Alicia let Loki rock her and comb her hair. She admired his efforts but it was not what she needed in this moment. She hoped Emma would allow Loki to watch, but Alicia flinched at what she did to satisfy the burn… Loki had to already know.

Emma arrived with running footsteps. Alicia's tears poured out and the grip on her wrist tightened with the burn under her scar. Emma's lips pursed together and eased Alicia to her feet. Emma received ice from a nearby break room then they went to a small meeting room. 

Alica did not know if she liked that Loki was silent. His eyes stared at the ice in Emma's hand in question with furrowed eyebrows. Emma set the cup of ice on the table and Alicia tentatively grabbed a cube. Loki would figure it out. She rubbed the cold lifesaver along the burning scar. It cooled slightly but not satisfying everything. Alicia kept the action up until the numbing sting satisfied most of the desires. She kept rubbing the skin with single strokes of the ice cube. Her nails grazed the scar and she tried to choke back the cry of frustration.

Emma questioned with a hushed tone but Alicia heard the words loud and clear, "You talked about Marcus, or the timeline of visions?"

Loki's rough voice made Alicia flinch, "Timeline."

Emma's authoritative teaching voice was stern, "The whole "when" thing of her visions is a trigger."

Alicia held out her wrist to Emma in a silent request. Emma's seder calmed the rest of the desires. The chilled area with Emma's warm seder gave the feeling of the numb burn and sting. It was highly uncomfortable, painful, but Alicia held her wrist still for a few seconds before moving with a hiss of pain. 

Emma gestured towards Alicia, "I found this helps get a similar sensation to cutting. The ice does a wonderful job by itself but with a little warmth really gives it the sting and burning similar to self-harm. Warm water works too."

Alicia watched as Loki's eyebrows knitted together and his mouth opened slowly. Alicia could not meet his eyes and had to look away when he spoke, "How did you find that out?"

Emma shrugged nonchalantly, "Internet. Midgard has wonderful ways of storing information. I am trying to get the elders to update everything into something OTHER than books. It would be much easier to spread knowledge.. even easier to find."

Alicia seen movement and glanced. Her body no longer wished for the spill of blood and her wrist was calmer. Alicia sniffled, "Im ok."

Loki's fingers combed through her hair, "Alicia… You know I am here for you?"

"Yeah… I just didn't want you to know I am weak."

"You are not… I just wish you didn't hide this from me."

Alicia spoke quickly in an attempt to calm him. "It's just since the vision of Marcus being taken… So it is not EVERY time.. I cope though-with reading, training, this…" Alicia laughed nervously, "maybe this isn't the best."

Emma stared at Alicia with a gentle voice but stern undertone, "You do not shed more blood. We have discussed further self injuries would make the desire flare frequently and have a stronger hold over you." Emma offered a small smile with a small cough. "I have notes for you Loki. I will make a copy."

After dinner Loki and Emma discussed Anxiety and Depression.

Emma explained, as she pointed at various articles she collected from internet searches, "Get her to focus on you -make wild faces, gestures and comments. Basically, distract her from the trigger. If that doesn't work, it is best to get her to breathe with counts of 5, then 8 seconds. She has a schedule that she is still trying to stay on. If her mind is occupied not much she can think of otherwise."

Loki questioned quickly, "What is it?"

Emma flipped to the back of her binder, "its typical; meals with special beverages, training and hygiene. Personal time and sleeping. Everything has a time requirement for the day, roughly based off of needs of that day. I read a schedule helps with a TON of mental illnesses."

Loki seemed to be studying the schedule so Emma went into a little more detail. Alicia observed from the chair across from them. She was aware of the discussion that was for her own good, but it made her stomach turn and chest constrict. It was uncomfortable for Loki to know of her issues other than Emma. Emma was a great healer, though embarrassingly she had knowledge on everything about Alicia.

Emma spoke as she gathered things for Loki, "You are aware how to help properly now, so put these skills and information to use." Emma glanced at Alicia, "you holding up okay?"

Her voice cracked, "Yeah."

Emma nodded as she explained grounding for Anxiety while showing Loki through an example. Alicia was asked to say 5 things she could see, 4 things she could hear, 3 things she felt, two scents, and one taste.

Emma plucked a mint from the bowl, "taste this. I don't want to hear about the smoothie again."

Alicia laughed briefly as the first flavor of mint empowered her mouth. "I hate those stupid things." Alicia quickly wiped a stray tear with a smile towards Emma.

Emma crossed her arms with a huff, "Just taste the mint and shut your mouth."

Alicia grinned, "Will do boss."

Loki muttered, "and the bickering resumes."

Alicia muffled a laugh at Emma telling him to shut his mouth and threw a mint at him.

After a few days, Alicia was grateful Loki knew now. He was amazing at change the subject when in conversations with the team. He tried to help her through episodes without the ice treatment but Emma would be present for those moments when her scar burned. Each day seemed to get better but with Emma and Loki teamed to be the boss of her days. Loki could help her better, but damn him for keeping her on a schedule. It was near close to the requirement for each daily need, especially sleep.

Over the next week they went on more missions. Everyone swore the group was getting more sloppy because they moved about every few days. Alicia noticed Loki was silent during those talks among the group even though at the first meeting he was so persistent. Alicia asked Loki his thoughts once they were alone.

"I'm not entirely sure if they are being sloppy… I actually doubt it. They only started getting careless after you started to attend missions."

Alicia's eyebrows furrowed, "You think they are doing this on purpose?"

Alicia held his hand as he sighed. Loki's voice was rough as he stated, "The future has already been laid out ahead of us." Loki embraced her in a tight hug. "Lets not think about it.. Today is your birthday."

Alicia smiled at him, "I imagine your favorite game will be played? Get practice for the far off future. Our little bundle of joy."

Loki hummed and kissed her head as he ran his fingers through her hair. "I wonder what it is going to be."

"Healthy and happy."

"Sounds good. Go get ready. I have a lot planned for you today."

Alicia rolled her eyes, "I only wanted dinner at our house."

Loki shooed her to her room.

With a long sleeved, knee length dress, and boots, Alicia was insistent with her hair being down. However, her hair was not cooperating due to her hair constantly being tied up from training and missions. She tried curling, straightening, and making it wavy. Alicia was about to just pull her hair OUT at the fifth attempt.

Emma knocked on the door, "Your prince awaits…"

Alicia rolled her eyes with a smile, "he is going to have to wait because my hair is not going right today. I have no idea what he has planned but it is probably in public."

"Probably. You haven't made a public appearance, in a long time well, as far as a date goes." Emma went behind Alicia and helped with the stubborn hair. "We should just put it up. It is being very stubborn today." Emma tried to hide her laugh, "its probably all of the missions you've been going on.. last night was a little intense."

Alicia saw her eyes widen in the mirror then put her head down without hindering Emma in fixing her hair.

"Loki never ties to cover it up."

Alicia muttered, "I figured…"

With a few more movements and pins Emma announced, "Ok. Done."

Alicia examined her hair and it was much better than what she was trying to do. "Thank you Emma. You do so much for me."

"Thank you number two." Emma smirked in the mirror, "You told me I wouldn't get another."

Alicia muttered, "I said probably." She stood then went to the door as Emma was ready to open it. Alicia sighed, "I still don't like not being able to do anything."

Emma snicked and curtsied, "get used to it Princesses."

Alicia sent a glare as Emma presented her to Loki with a slow opening of the door.

He grinned and claimed she was perfect for today. Alicia tried to question what they were doing today but he took her towards the garage to leave. 

"What do you have planned?" Alicia waited in silence before whining, "Loki. Tell me."

"We are going to get something to eat before getting on the plane. Our house takes a while to get to."

"Yeah I know that Loki. Are we going in front of the public?"

"Well… I wanted to show you off."

Alicia felt his hand on her left hand, playing with the ring. "Showing your claim on me?"

"It will get Midgardians to stop pursuing you."

Alicia traced his hand with fingers of her right hand, "I hate to say this… but that does not stop everyone. However, that does not matter because I have sworn myself to you."

When they got to a restaurant Alicia waited for Loki to open her door. Loki offered his arm and she held it at the elbow the other displaying her engagement ring. Of Course she was questioned about the ring and everyone knew they were both excited. People wished her happy birthday and wished them well with a happy future. She waved at everyone as Loki lead her into the building. She noticed the huge smile he tried to keep hidden.

"Are you proud? Everyone has seen your ring."

Loki pecked her lips quickly, "very."

There was a stage in this restaurant and the show was a series of songs… then Loki had to be a cheesy bastard and requested the birthday song for more embarrassment. Alicia did not understand the menu but Loki ordered enough for her to try, but not enough to spoil their appetites for dinner at their house.

Finally, Loki took Alicia to their house, her favorite meals were served and she ate more than enough.

#Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder #brightsun-and-darkmidnight #loki #check triggers #check description #chapter 27

[larissaloki]

This is my first installment on a rare pair ship M’Baku x Tony x Bucky. A/b/o verse. M’Baku is an alpha same asBucky and Tony is an Omega. Updates for this will be slow but if you like this fic leave a comment and I’ll see which of my stories get the most interest. Once I’ve finished my walking avengers fic I’ll focus on another.

@thoughtfulbreadpolice @seven-oomen @im-tops-bottom @winteriron-trash here you go!

Sharing is caring-

~~~~~~~

Humming Tony checked his phone for any message from Pepper, nothing major really was sent to him. Just a few meetings reports, condensed down enough to get just the important details across. He idly skimmed them, asking Friday to make a note once landed and settled in a private room, to go through them more fully. For now, the notes looked promising for their expansion in China and Japan. Both cities with a lot of people could benefit greatly from clean energy. They were in midst of negotiating of setting up the system there to help make their cities greener.so far Japan surprisingly was much more eager to join in.

Which leads to Tony’s little field trip that he’s on now. T’Challa and Shuri have asked him to help introduce Wakandan tech to the world. Not that T’Challa needed the help really, but it looked good to the council and the press that the two were working together. Of course people where still weary and where calling out for the king to be weary of Stark due to his past business, but it wasn’t enough of an outcry too cause to much damage to their stocks.

After T’Challa’s declaration to open the boarder, many had been skeptical as to what Wakanda could offer the world. T’Challa had a plan though. He had brought buildings and was doing work right now to share technology and open trades. The first to establish trades was Tony. Well, more T’Challa was the first to reach out to him. Understanding that Tony wanted to make the world safer and cleaner.

The trade was under a few conditions though, any plans Tony had involving tech and materials from Wakanda had to be approved by T’Challa and his council first before being implemented. Seeing as the primary material was Vibranium, it was no wonder the King was anxious about how it would be used. One of the other stipulations was that Tony had to visit the country and learn about Vibranium, work with it in a controlled environment that could cope with any mishaps. Learn from Princess Shuri how to safely transport it and such.

Tony had all but launched himself at his car shouting down his phone to prep a jet and replying back to T’Challa that he was on his way that instant. Tony was eager to learn, eager to see the genius mind behind most of the modern creations in Wakanda. He wanted to see with his own eyes the country that could better the whole world.

At first, Pepper had been furious at Tony skipping out on a meeting but, once learning the purpose of his trip she had calmed and assured him she would cover for him. Seeing the major benefit of Tony going just as well as he had.

Smiling to himself, Tony leaned back in his luxurious seat sipping some flavoured sparkling water Tony allowed his eyes to close. Above head, the intercom pinged as the pilots’ voice came across.

“We are fast approaching Wakanda Mr Stark, about 5 minutes before landing-“

The plane rocked violently as something hit it. Above the seats, oxygen masks fall for the passengers. Tony slowly makes his way towards the nearest chair, the rock in and shuddering of the plane making hi nearly fall over several times. Of all the times to leave his suit behind, fully believing he wouldn’t need one and also partly because he was in that much of a rush to the plane in NY that he had forgotten it.

Now, Tony was regretting leaving it behind in the compound.

“Please don’t crash, please don’t crash…” Buckling himself into his seat, Tony fumbled for his phone calling for Friday for information on what happened. He barely heard two words from the A.I before the plane took a sharp downward turn, it threw him back into his seat with a curse as he accidentally dropped his phone. The Omega clutched at the armrests of the chair, he had a bad feeling in his gut that no one was alive in the cockpit of the plane. All Tony could do was hope and pray either he survived the fall or received a quick death.

Tony had a thought as to what could have possibly of hit them when the plane began to tumble over and over, shuddering and jolting as it hit things in its decent. The next few moments where a blur for the Omega, he wouldn’t have been able to recall them if he tried. All he recalls is intense terror than a sharp pain to his leg and side before everything goes black.

~~~~~

M’Baku was watching the young Omega princess work on the newest broken Alpha white boy, also known by the children below as, White Wolf. At first, before M’Baku had earned his place among the tribes, he had been sceptical of the teen Omega genius. After seeing her work in person though, he was willing to admit he had been wrong in his judgement.

She had worked near relentlessly on trying to remove the triggers for the Winter Soldier. After a few tense months, Stark had sent information on his BARF, notes on it and how he made it. To see if it could help them. He had even given them details on how to contact Helen Cho. An expert on squishy science. Together they had come up with theories which Shuri had adjusted and altered her machines and such to make these theories work. Slowly she worked through Bucky’s mind; with his permission; to undo the power of the trigger commands. Rendering them useless.

Shuri has just finished the last command after weeks of working on it. They took breaks between each word and tried it to see if it affected him. So far they have been successful. After this last word, Bucky could be taken out of Cryo completely, allowed to slowly be let back among others to get used to life again.

Next, to him, T’Challa stood silently, observing the procedure. Despite the success so far he refused to left guards drop in case anything set back their progress. He won’t relax until this is completed. Around the room is 5 other Dora Milaje as well as them. All placed out of the way but able to move at a moments notice.

Above Barnes is a hologram of his body and brain which Shuri is looking at as she works on another screen. Carefully moving and directing her machines that are attached to Barnes’ head.

It’s a tense 2 hours before Shuri finally sighs and shuts down the machines with a pleased grin. Turning the princess nods at her brother.

“I’m done brother, your broken white boy I finally fixed. Though I do like this one, can I keep him?”

“No Shuri, you can not, I dare say Roger’s wouldn’t be pleased.”

Pouting, Shuri takes off the tabs that are connected to Barnes as he wakes up, blinking confused for a moment. T’Challa moves to stand by the chair/bed, watching Barnes carefully.

“How do you feel?”

Licking his lips Barnes seems to look down at his lap. “Better, I don’t feel so…tense” nodding, T’Challa starts to recite the words he had memorised by heart now. Barnes tenses as he always does when they do this part. However, apart from the initial tensing, there was no reaction. They waited a few moments but when Barnes felt no change, he looks up in wonder yet gratefulness.

“Y-You did it…”

Puffing up proudly behind her brother, Shuri comes closer now satisfied there’s no danger. “You’re all clear. The Winter Soldier cannot be used as a weapon ever again.”

“So he’s completely gone?...”

At this Shuri pauses as if considering her next word carefully. “We are not entirely sure, I believe experiences are still in there, memories. Things that will bleed over to you. Such as skills, but you have free will now. Think of it as a merge? We only really removed the triggers.”

“Thank you, truly” Barnes looked between them all gratefully. The sump where his left arm was is wrapped up with a dark rich blue cloth to hide the area from scrutiny. Barnes was truly indebted to these people who have not only, given him a safe haven to rest and relax but they have helped him become him again. Whatever he was now. He knows he’s not the Bucky from the 1940’s anymore. No matter how much Steve wished for him too. He was also no longer the Ghost Assassin of Hydra.

He had the freedom to become him again. Choose who he wanted to be.

And he had every intention of not fighting again for a long as he could help it.

M’Baku looked him over from his place by the wall still. He and Barnes haven’t interacted much due to him being mostly in cryo and the fact that too many Alphas around at once had made him skittish. What he did now he had gotten through stories from others. He had heard about the smooth charming Brooklyn Alpha from before the war. The Alpha that could charm a fish out of water effortlessly, who could make Betas and Omegas alike, swoon on the dance floor.

Soft quiet moments like this, M’Baku could only see a shy quiet man who just wants to be left alone to live peacefully. It’s not until he smiles that M’Baku gets a glimpse of the person from those stories. The endearingly soft smiles that make you warm inside when the smile is directed at you. Prompting you to smile back. The puppyish look in his blue eyes as Barnes tilts his head as he talks. Even that ridiculously soft brown hair that practically begs to be petted. A few times M’Baku had to refrain from reaching out to touch the fluffy strands. It was simply unfair. Since his wife who had died a few years back, leaving him and their children, M’Baku hadn’t so much as glanced at another. But Barnes was somehow changing that.

Another that had caught his interest was the Omega, Stark. The first time he had seen him in a video conference, M’Baku had to psychically bite his tongue, lest he says something stupid. The smaller man had been Devine to look at as he worked in his lab in the video. Soft dark brown hair gently curling at his ears and neck. Goggles pushed back on h forehead so he could see them, molten chocolate brown eyes had looked at them inquisitively, but M’Baku could see a spark of mischief as well. Just seeing his face and arms had been torture enough but the moment Stark had stood to retrieve something off screen giving them a glimpse of his ass and legs. M’Baku had to cough to cover for the small groan that had escaped. Going by Okoye’s small smirk. He hadn’t been too successful at hiding it.

For days after that video conference, Starks plush ass and perfect legs had been on his mind and starred in his dreams. He just wanted to grope at that ass and possibly bite it to leave his mark. The jeans Stark had been wearing had shown off all those delicious curves leaving M’Baku wanting.

Upon learning that T’Challa was reaching out to work with Tony on more future projects, M’Baku had none too subtly been bugging T’Challa to introduce him to Stark. He wanted to meet the genius. Perhaps try his hand at Wooing his into his bed. After looking up the man, M’Baku could agree that the man needed a god damn break from shit. Both Stark and Barnes just needed a break from shit life threw at them. And what more perfect way than in the middle of nowhere in Wakanda?

Grinning M’Baku pictured the Stark heir trying to climb a tree. Unaware that the room was looking at him oddly when he started chuckling to himself.

T’Challa was the one bravest to step forward. “M’Baku? What’s so funny?”

“Huh?” Coming back to focus, M’Baku looked around to see the stares and grinned. “Was just imagining T’Challa in crocodile-infested waters,” his grin grew wider at Barnes look of alarm, a few of the Dora looked mildly alarmed as well but stayed still as Okoye and T’Challa shook their heads amused. Shuri grinned outright at him, “did you yet him in?”

“Shuri please…” T’Challa groaned at his sister. Before any more words could be shared the palace shook slightly, a boom from a distance could be heard. Alert T’Challa ran to the nearest window, looking outside. To the distance just inside their borders, they could see a plane crashing down towards the trees and rivers below. M’Baku managed to catch a glimpse of the name on the side of the small plane. Stark.

Immediately, T’Challa shouted out commands for people to be sent to check the wreckage for any survivors. Also for someone to find out who had shot down that plane.

#larissaloki #marvel #tony stark #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #m’baku #t’challa #shuri black panther #shuri #Silveriron #M’Bony #M’Baku x Tony x Bucky