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shades-of-stony · 3 years

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Heavy Angst (And Not-So-Heavy but Still Angsty) Stony Fanfics!

I’m absolutely love a good Tony whump and hurt story so prepare to see a lot of those here! Get your tissues ready!

Push by phoenixreal

Summary: Tony Stark was known for pissing people off, it was a given. Then, after the man everyone thought was nothing more than a selfish prick decided to nearly kill himself saving Manhattan from a nuclear bomb, even the most sure of Tony's bastard status had to rethink it. And then, his team who were sure they had him pegged, they were invited (ordered) to move into Stark Tower with him. To their surprise, they found he had furnished full floors for each of them, somehow knowing their tastes exactly, including a floor dedicated to the resident Asgardian who would only be there some of the time. Surprised, and please, they all wonder at the enigma that is their host. After a couple months, Pepper Potts stops coming around so much, and they realize that something has exchanged between them because they are rather professional to each other. Pepper still frets over Tony, but instead tells the others to keep an eye on him rather than doing it herself. They easily forget that Tony is, and always has been, simply a human civilian. Then things get strange when they find themselves locked down within Stark tower, and after a harrowing viewing of a mysterious video, they find their resident playboy is completely gone.

Note: Prepare to cry and be hurt! This fanfic dabbles with Tony’s insecurity, self-worth, and issues. Please heed the warnings!

The words you choose to say by masterlokisev159

Summary: After the SHRA, the events around Steve’s death and Tony discovering he deleted part of his brain, Tony finally decides he's done enough. With Osborn taken care of, Tony leaves the Avengers and decides to quit being Ironman effective immediately.

He tells himself it doesn't hurt when Steve agrees. Why should it? After everything he's done, the team's better off without him.

However before he can truly move on, there are things he needs to take care of, and it's not long before he realizes he's dangerously close to losing his company. He's desperate and willing to do anything to keep it together.

So when, after months of silence, Steve asks him to drop everything and come work for Shield, Tony finds he doesn't have a choice. He agrees, no matter how much he knows he shouldn't. His reputation isn't exactly the best after the SHRA and he's heard stories of what he'd done as Director. He's knows what he's done. He's knows he's responsible for what happened to Steve.

He just wishes someone had warned him first. He hadn't been prepared to deal with the consequences.

Note: A 1000/10 angst fanfic that made me weep at 3 am in the morning. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. READ IT AND PREPARE TO CRY BUCKETS

Protocol SOTERIA by GoldenFinches

Summary: Friday's primary objective at all times is to protect one Anthony Edward Stark. And she will fulfill that objective no matter what it takes. Even if it means including certain people she thought she would never have to deal with again.

(Basically the Rogue Avengers get some sense knocked into them with the help of Friday and handful of videos.)

Note: A HIGHLY RECOMMENDED ANGSTY FANFIC. I CRIED SO MUCH READING THIS.

Straight to Voicemail by YouMakeMeDokiDoki

Summary: "I DID!" Tony screamed, cutting Steve off mid-sentence and whirling around to glare at him.

"I CALLED YOU! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!"

The one where no one answered their phone and things got out of hand.

Note: this will absolutely break you heart.

Sunshine and Luck by ImportedfromMunich2

Summary: Months after Siberia, Steve and the rest of the defectors are pardoned and allowed back onto the Avengers, with the help of Tony Stark. Now that they're back - nothing is the same as before. Tony is even avoiding Steve at all costs.

Then one night - Tony barges into Steve's bedroom while he sleeps, and they have spontaneous, passionate sex.

Only, the Tony Stark he just fucked isn't from this universe.

Now, Steve has to find a way to explain to Tony that he had sex with his counterpart from another dimension.

Note: A good Steve whump fic!

When You Mess With Him... by REM_It_Up

Summary: During an event with the Avengers, Tony is kidnapped by an unknown group of men right in front of the team. The group who took Tony taunt the Avengers by leaving small clues to Tony's whereabouts. When the kidnappers finally get in contact with the team, they are forced to watch Tony get tortured on camera.

The Avengers desperately search for their missing friend before they never see him again.

The kidnappers are smart and fast, they have everything figured out in order to get away with their plan...They just forgot one thing--

Colonel James Rhodes

Note: Now this is really heavy! Brace yourselves for a kidnapped and tortured tony! Also, protective honey bear aka Rhodey bonus here!

To Need is Not To Want by Brixon

Summary: All his life Tony has been used as a means to someone's end. Always someone's tool in a game. Carelessly thrown aside, once they had no longer use of him. He keeps it bottled up because, because he's Tony Stark. But he's always had this desire that one day someone would come who would stay because they wanted and needed him. He thought he had that with the Avengers, but after everything with the Accords and everyone leaving after Civil War that hope of having something of his to stay was gone.

Despite being burned constantly, Tony still has this wanting. So when Ryder, an old college friend, comes back into his life and actually seems to want to stay because he wants AND needs Tony, Tony is beyond thrilled. Because Ryder is staying. It doesn't matter if the bruises stay too.

But what happens when the Avengers return and Tony finds himself wondering once again exactly what he wants and what he needs.

Note: I’m sure, from the summary, you can tell that it’s a heartbreak here.

Hiding Things Is All Too Easy - Until It Isn't by audhds

Summary: Tony hasn't been the same since Bucky arrived at Stark Tower. That much is obvious. But Steve is overjoyed to have his best friend back and is somewhat oblivious to how Tony is withdrawing away from him. Because surely Tony is just overworked as usual. He must be quiet and jumpy because he is sleep deprived. And of course he has a few cuts and bruises on the visible parts of his skin - he fights and works for the Avengers as a living. It's part of the job description. Until it isn't.

Will Steve discover the physical and mental trauma that Tony is going through before it is too late?

Note: This is even heavier! Please read the tags carefully! Also, this has some serious Bucky bashing! If you are a Bucky fan but still interested in this, please prepare yourself.

No Trait As Much As This by KandiSheek

Summary: Tony gets hit with truth serum. It's a terrible time for everyone.

Note: A bit lighter than the others but still angst nonetheless. The added truth serum element makes this even more interesting!

Good For You by @orbingarrow

Summary: Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who abuse him. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.

The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past. Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.

Note: Another Tony-in-abusive-relationships fanfic!!

hold the things you wanna say by SailorChibi

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay.

He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really.

What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always.

This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

Note: Anyone up for some Howard-travels-to-the-future fanfic?

Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon

Summary: Seven-year-old Tony Stark wakes up on a Hydra base, lost, afraid, and alone. He has to overcome his fears before it's too late for the Avengers and Captain America.

Note: De-aged Tony just screams heavy angst and hurt!

Advanced Protocol by masterlokisev159

Summary: The Incursions are coming. The Illuminati have surrendered and everyone has come together to take one last stand.

Everyone except Tony. And Steve is tired of waiting. He wants answers.

There's something the Illuminati aren't telling him.

Note: If you don’t know what the Avalon is in Marvel, I recommend you search it up, or you could read this fic. You will be heartbroken with what you find.

Flower Child by itsallAvengers

Summary: The point was this, though:

In a hundred million universes, in a hundred million different lives, there would never be a single one of them in which Tony Stark deserved anyone like Steve Rogers. Ever.

So this? Nonsensical.

Note: Another fanfic that highlights child abuse and Tony’s insecurities!

What Pays All Debts by KandiSheek

Summary: No one is supposed to survive the date written on their skin. And yet Tony's numbers keep piling up.

Note: Angst + Death dates? You could probably foretell how much of a gut-wrench journey this is.

Falling Into You by sabrecmc

Summary: Tony and Steve end up as fuck buddies after the events of The Winter Soldier until Steve calls it off. When Loki's spell wipes all of Steve's memories since the last time Loki was in town, Tony decides it will be so much easier to just not tell Steve they had something of a relationship. Spoiler: It isn't.

Or, how Steve fell in love with Tony and forgot about it, and how Tony fell in love with Steve and realized it.

Note: There are just something about amnesia fanfics that makes it so goddamn heartbreaking.

Art Freaks and Comic Geeks by Coil

Summary: Tony Stark had made himself a phenomenally renowned writer. The world had fallen in love with the heroes that appeared in his novels; captivated by his vivid words of life and colour.

His next ambition was to publish a comic book series starring the much-beloved heroes of his novels. There was just one problem. Brilliant as Tony may have been with his words, his skills in the field of drawing were less than great. It didn’t help that he barely knew what his characters ought to look like in the first place.

Enter: Mister Steve Rogers – an up-and-coming artist/illustrator with the potential to be brilliant.

Their paths happen to cross at Comic-Con.

Note: this is a much lighter angsty fanfic but is still angsty. It is a Modern AU mixed with Artist!Steve and Writer!Tony.

Unwritten Endings by XtaticPearl

Summary: Tony takes the bullet meant for Captain America at the end of their war and through his death, brings together the team again. Only, he isn't really dead and when he comes back, the equations between the team-mates begin to alter and reform, writing a new story altogether.

Note: Of course, you can’t have an angst fanfic rec without a fake death fanfic!

WIP

Need Is Just A Word by masterlokisev159

Summary: A month has gone by since the war and Tony has never felt more alone. of course, with the unrest within the government, the disappearance of the Avengers and the obvious lack of Steve Rogers, it was only a matter of time before the UN finally flipped out and decided to act on the last available Avenger. Too bad they didn't realise a promise had been made by Captain America to be there when Iron man needed him.

Note: a gut-wrenching Post CA:CW fanfic where tony is suffering the consequences of the civil war.

Take me out tonight by masterlokisev159

Summary: When Steve gets invited to a formal party with the government, Fury tells him he can bring a plus one of his choosing. While listening quietly in the corner, Tony heaves a sigh of relief because the team could really do with some positive publicity and any of the Avengers are a good choice for Steve. Tony just wants Steve to be happy after all, even if he knows Steve's gonna pick Natasha. He knows Steve doesn't like him and he's aware there's never going to be anything more between them. They're barely even friends really.

So of course he's absolutely shocked when a gold filigree letter rests in his palms two days later. He's the worst person for this.

Why on earth did Steve choose him?

Note: AHHHHHHHH, INSECURE TONY IS JUST A FAVORITE. Also, confident!Steve that knows who he wants is just a whole new mood!

The Soul Stone's Sacrifice by masterlokisev159

The soul stone demands a sacrifice that Tony and Steve are not prepared for, but in the end, one life is sacrificed for the many. Steve lets Tony go for the last time and mourns a future they never had.

That is until Tony comes back.

Note: A scenario where Tony and Steve where the ones to go to Vormir.

#stony #stony fic #stony fic rec #steve and tony #steve and tony fic #stony au #stony angst #superhusbands #stony fics #stony fanfiction

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after-avenging-hours · 4 years

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Out of Time [1]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist

Summary: After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 5565

Warnings: Canon typical violence, time travel, injury of major characters

You don’t know how it went so wrong. You’d been on a mission with the team. A few former SHIELD scientists that were suspected to have been working under the influence of Hydra had been spotted in the same vicinity, raising several red flags. After a few days of recon, you’d managed to track down the location of their lab. When the team had busted the door in, ready to take them down, they’d already been expecting you.

The place was full of hired mercenaries and ex-members of the SHIELD Strike team. They’d put up quite a fight. Sam, Clint, and Wanda held down the ground floor while you and Steve had made your way to the upper level. Two agents held you off in close combat while six others took on Steve at the same time. Even six to one, they were having a hard time restraining the Super Soldier, but they managed to keep him pinned just long enough to allow one of the scientists to inject him in the neck with some type of black substance.

“No!” you scream, turning absolutely feral. Throwing caution to the wind, you mercilessly take on the two agents fighting you and they soon end up on the floor.

As Steve falls to his knees, the six other agents grab the scientists and leave out the back door. You rush forward and drop down, skidding across the floor to catch Steve by the shoulders before he can faceplant into the floor.

“Steve!” you call desperately. “Steve, look at me!” Your hands grip his face, trying to guide his eyes to yours, but they’ve turned hazy and unfocused. Perspiration has begun to collect on his brow and the veins at the injection site on his neck have started to turn black.

You lift a hand to activate the commlink in your ear. “Requesting immediate evac. The Captain is down. I repeat, Captain America is down.”

The rest of the team rendezvous to your location and it takes all of you to get Steve out of there and onto the Quinjet. You grab a tablet and bring up the life sign readings programmed into his suit. You watch with dread as his heartbeat wildly fluctuates between too high and too low, while his body temperature continually climbs.

As soon as the jet has landed back at the Avengers base, he’s carted off to the infirmary, where Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho are already waiting for him. You pace up and down the hallway, unable to rest or step away for even a moment to change out of your uniform. Your stomach is tied up in knots and you can’t get the image out of your head on how his face just went completely blank as soon as they had injected him.

You halt your movements and look up when the door opens and Bruce steps out. Seeing Bruce’s face on the Hulk’s massive body was still a little unsettling, but you have started to grow used to it.

“How is he? Is he okay?” you rush out.

Bruce’s poker face is terrible as he pulls off his glasses and fails to meet your gaze. “He’s stable for now… but no, he’s not okay.”

You cup a hand to your mouth and release a pained whimper. “What-” your voice breaks and you have to clear your throat before you can try again. “Do you know what they injected him with?”

“From what we can tell, it seems to be some sort of anti-serum venom. It was made to specifically target the Super Soldier serum enhancement in Steve’s cells.”

You feel the dread sink like a weight in your stomach. “What can we do to stop it?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Wanda grabbed the syringe from the Hydra lab, so we have a small sample of the anti-serum for analysis. But without a pure sample of Steve’s Super Soldier serum, it could take months to synthesize a cure. And he doesn’t have that long.”

The lump in your throat grows and it becomes difficult to swallow. “How long does he have?” you almost don’t want to ask.

You see the answer in his eyes. “This anti-serum… it’s aggressive-”

“Bruce,” you cut him off, urgency in your gaze. “How long?”

“A few days… maybe a week.”

Your whole body blanches and you stumble a few steps until your back hits the wall. The thought alone was inconceivable. Steve… Your Steve… Gone in less than a week? Haven’t you both been through enough? You shake your head fervently, straightening your spine and pushing off the wall. “No,” you deny, allowing your anger and frustration to bolster your strength.

“Hey…” Bruce attempts to reach out to you.

“No!” you coil back. “No, I won’t let that happen.”

“We will do everything we can, but without the original serum-”

“Then I’ll get it for you,” you state with finality to your tone, a plan already forming in your mind.

Bruce looks at you, perplexed. “How?”

Instead of responding, you turn on your heel and march down the hallway. Pulling out your phone, you bring up your contacts and dial the number you need. You’re talking as soon as the line picks up. “Hey Scott, remember that favor you owe me?”

It takes a full day of preparation before things are ready. You grow even more anxious with every minute that passes. Every single tick of the clock is one less second Steve has to live.

Seeing him in the infirmary had nearly broken you. Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho were keeping him sedated to help slow the spread of the anti-serum, but the damage was already beginning to take its toll. It was working its way through his body like a poison, starting in the bloodstream, but if left untreated, his organs would begin to fail systematically. Normally, Steve’s Super Soldier serum would help defend his body from something like this, allowing him to metabolize it out before it could do any harm. But, somehow those Hydra scientists found a way to target the original serum first, to weaken his body’s defenses and let the venom take over. It must have taken them years of research to develop something like this and you only had days to reverse it.

You had never seen the Super Soldier look so weak and sickly. He had lost all color, his skin pale and beginning to verge into an ashen grey. He looked thinner like he had been bedridden for weeks, not just a day. His cheeks were gaunt and dark bags had appeared beneath his eyes. When you reached out to touch his hand, it was deathly cold and your heart had skipped a beat. You didn’t understand how this could be happening so fast to the strongest man you had ever known.

You’d pushed the hair off his forehead; no longer a shiny blonde, but more of a dull straw color; and pressed your lips to his skin. “You’ve come to my rescue so many times, Steve. It’s time for me to return the favor. Please, hold on, just a little longer, until I get back.” You then place a gentle kiss to his lips, a single tear dropping from your eye and landing on his cheek. You wipe at the wet trail with your thumb before you step back and release a shaking breath. “I will make it back,” you promise both to him and to yourself.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Bucky asks, helping you in to your quantum suit.

It’s good that most of his memories were back. He was your best source of information for getting the correct dates, times, and places so you could successfully accomplish your task. Not only that, but you had needed a quick and dirty rundown on etiquette, behavior, and style for the time period. It felt like you had enough bobby pins and hair spray to keep your hair as still as a plastic doll. Not to mention the signature red painting your lips.

“You can’t,” Bruce speaks up from where he stands behind the console for the platform. “The infinity stones were the only thing holding our reality together when we time traveled the last time. Those stones no longer exist in this reality. Since she isn’t coming back with them either, there may be repercussions from this. She should go alone because she doesn’t already exist in that timeline.”

“I’ll be okay, Bucky,” you give him a tentative smile, unsure if you’re telling the truth.

Based on the look in his eyes, you know he’s reading you easily. He gives your arm a squeeze in reassurance. “Stay out of trouble. The punk will kill me if anything happens to you.”

You nod and begin to step away, heading for the platform. You shift on your feet, mentally psyching yourself up for the journey. You release a long breath before signaling to Bruce that you’re ready. You meet Bucky’s gaze one last time. “Be right back,” you tell him before your helmet pops into place and you’re flying through the quantum realm.

You land in 1943 without much fuss, quickly dissolving out of your quantum suit before anyone catches you in the empty alleyway. You fix any flyaway hairs and straighten your outfit and then walk out onto the main street. It’s a bit of a trip, seeing all the old-fashioned cars driving past and the dated outfits and hairstyles that everyone wears. The movies and pictures that you’ve grown up seeing don’t quite do it justice. However, it does remind you of the sketches Steve sometimes shared with you whenever he was feeling nostalgic.

You give yourself a second to marvel at everything, but the thought of Steve helps to sharpen your focus and bring yourself back on track. You step onto the sidewalk, behind a group of young school children with their mothers in tow. Walking passed a newspaper stand; you take a quick glance at the paper to make sure you’ve landed at the correct time. Monday, June 7th, 1943.

Breathing a breath of relief, you move to the edge of the sidewalk and hail a taxi. Soft, jazzy notes fill the air of the car from the radio, helping to ease the tension in your shoulders. The song is also familiar to you, because of Steve. You give the driver the address to your destination and soon find yourself pulling up in front of Brooklyn Antiques. You pay for the taxi with a set of vintage coins you’d been able to acquire before leaving your time. You shuffle out of the taxi and head into the shop.

The bell above the door dings and you enter the space. An older woman in a soft pink sweater steps out from the backroom to greet you. “Did you hear the ball game last night?”

Your mind races as you try to recall the answer to the code that Bucky had told you about. They would change them daily and randomly rotate through a long list of them. “Yes, but I only wish I had some Cracker Jacks,” you respond.

She nods once before moving behind the cashier desk and presses the secret button beneath. You try to steady your pounding heart as you walk to the back room and stand in front of the bookshelves. After a moment, the shelves begin to move to reveal a set of hidden doors. You roll your shoulders back and walk with confidence into the hidden laboratory.

The energy in this place buzzes like a beehive. The tan military uniform you wear allows you to blend with everyone else. People give you a casual side glance before turning back to what they had previously been doing. As you walk down the hallway toward the main room, the sound of raised voices grabs your attention.

“You’ve had more than enough test runs! Stark’s machine works. Your formula is ready for development. All that’s left is the man.”

Looking to your left, you see that it’s Colonel Phillips and Dr. Erskine that are arguing inside the observation room. Dr. Erskine shakes his head, with an exasperated look on his face. “But it can’t be just any man, it has to be the right man!”

“We’ve been at this for months! Week after week, we run training exercises on a new group at Camp Lehigh, and you’ve denied every single one! Do you realize how much money this has cost us? We have to pay the scouts that send men our way. Gotta pay the buses that bring ‘em to the camp. Lodging, food, uniforms, supplies. Enough is enough. You have one week to find your man for the next round of recruitments. If you can’t find him. Then you’ll have to pick from the rest of the selection. We cannot afford to wait any longer.”

With the final word, Colonel Phillips turns and walks out of the observation room. You make sure to step back and out of his way, ducking your head slightly, so as not to draw attention to yourself. You look back up when you hear Dr. Erskine give a long drawn out sigh. He has removed his glasses and rubs at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

You find yourself moving forward and into the room. “Is everything all right, Doctor?” you question with a gentle voice.

He moves his glasses back into place and meets your gaze. “Not quite.” He admits, his accent a little thicker with stress in his voice. “Unless you have an idea on where we might be able to find someone actually worthy of this project.”

Your lips part as you try to come up with a response to that. “Well… Um. I’m sure the World Expo will bring all sorts of new faces in.” You cringe inwardly a little, thinking that may have been too obvious. Bruce’s words of warning echo in your ears. Get in, get out, don’t change the timeline.

Erskine’s eyes light up at that prospect. “The World Exposition? Of course. That is a wonderful idea. Stark mentioned that there was a recruitment center there. Come, let’s go take a look.”

He begins to head for the doorway and gestures for you to step through first. You hesitate. “You want me to come with you?”

He smiles kindly. “Well, it was your idea, was it not?”

So much for 'get in and get out'. Although, this could be a good thing. After all, Erskine was your ticket to the serum. Another second passes, and then you begin to move out of the observation room. You look down at the machine in the main room, knowing that one day soon, it will be used to create a Super Soldier. Erskine follows you out before taking the lead and moving toward the exit. He pulls off his lab coat and stops at a coat rack off to the side. He swaps the lab coat for a beige trench coat and his fedora.

The MP sitting at the desk right next to the secret entrance hits the button to allow you both to exit. Erskine leads you out of the antique shop and over to one of the vehicles parked nearby. The driver is already sitting in the front seat. Erskine opens the back door and gestures once more for you to enter first. You give him your thanks as you sink into the leather seat, then push over to the other side to make room for him to follow you.

Dr. Erskine gives his instructions to the driver to take you to the Expo.

You relax your posture into the cushioned seat and watch 1943 New York pass by the window.

“So, you are new,” Dr. Erskine states casually, also looking out through the window on his side of the car.

Your shoulders stiffen and your heart stops. “I…” you begin to protest before changing tactics. You laugh nervously and glance over at him. “Is it that obvious?”

He continues to look out his window as he responds. “In all the months we have been working on this project, no one has ever asked me how I am doing.” He turns away from the window then and meets your gaze.

Your own gaze softens with sincerity. “That sounds lonely.”

He tilts his head and lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. “This is the bed that I have made. Great things can happen if my serum is used properly, but many terrible things have already come to pass.”

You know that he is talking about Red Skull. “We will find the man you need, Doctor,” you assure him.

He looks at you curiously. “How is it you sound so sure of that?”

You swallow and try not to look like a deer caught in a headlight. “I have faith,” you manage to get out.

He cracks a small smile. “Faith,” he repeats, before he releases a low chuckle. “I’m afraid as a scientist, I may need a little more than that.”

You find yourself smiling back. “Then perhaps I can try to muster enough faith for the both of us.”

“That would be appreciated,” he responds right as the car pulls to a stop. He steps out of the vehicle first before turning and reaching to take your hand to help you to your feet.

“Oh wow…” you marvel as you take in the sights of the Expo before you.

The giant metal sculpture of the globe looms over everything, casting its shadow over the crowds as people hurry passed in excited groups, eager to see the exhibits. A monorail train curls around the globe and zooms past in a rush of metallic sound.

“You have not yet seen the Exposition?” Dr. Erskine asks curiously.

You find it difficult to pull your eyes away from the sights. “I haven’t had the time,” you speak honestly.

“I heard that several of the soldiers were planning to take the other women to Stark’s show this weekend. I’m sure you could join them.” He speaks casually as he begins to head for the recruitment station.

“Those men don’t interest me.” You follow behind, looking around as you do.

Dr. Erskine grins to himself. “Fair enough.”

The two of you continue on your way. Before you can make it inside the building, though, a voice calls out “Dr. Erskine!”

A man in an expensive-looking suit walks up to you both. He has dark hair, a thin mustache, and a dashing smile. A smile with confidence that you recognize.

“Mr. Stark,” the Doctor greets, shaking his hand.

“What brings you all the way out here? I thought you never left your lab, save for heading out to Camp Lehigh. And who is this?” Howard’s eyes trace down the length of your body, an appreciation settling into his features.

You raise a brow, barely able to contain your amusement between this Stark and the one you’ve known. “She’s not interested,” you reply bluntly.

Erskine laughs while Stark’s lips part in momentary shock. With a shake of his head, he shrugs off the rejection and his lips return to a charming grin. “Where are you and Phillips finding these girls? First Agent Carter, now this one?”

“You were commissioned for the head on your shoulders, Mr. Stark. The females working on this project should be of no concern to you.” The somewhat harsh blow of Erskine’s words is softened by the smile of amusement on his face.

Howard doesn’t take it to heart, laughing as well. “I understand. Well, can I at least show you both around?”

“We are actually here to observe the recruitment station. The Colonel has given us a week to find our man. We were hoping the selection here might provide something new.”

“Ah,” Howard remarks. “Well then, I won’t keep you. Feel free to stop by the Modern Marvel’s Pavilion. Perhaps we can all grab lunch.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Erskine neither confirms nor denies the invitation and ushers you into the recruitment center.

“He’s certainly a handful,” you comment, no longer able to hold your amusement.

Erskine releases a long sigh. “Sometimes it is a wonder that he can get anything accomplished. His mind is brilliant, but he can be easily distracted. Though, I am starting to wonder… if not even the great Howard Stark can hold your interest, I am fascinated to find out the man that will.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Maybe you will meet him one day.”

Dr. Erskine speaks with the head physician of the recruitment office, establishing a protocol for directing prospective enlisters his way for additional questioning. He then gives you instructions on the qualities he is looking for, so you can also help to keep an eye out with him.

You spend the day interviewing enlisters. You pretend to be invested, but know that none of them are going to be the correct one. Steve isn’t supposed to show up to this recruitment center until this weekend after Stark’s big show. You had planned to drop into the timeline several days before his recruitment, in case you needed the extra time to get your hands on a sample of serum. Your first day wasn’t quite going as expected, but it could be worse.

Erskine comes to collect you at the end of the day to see how your interviews have been going. When he offers for you to join him for dinner, you readily agree, only then realizing how hungry you are. The two of you walk away from the crowds of the Expo and back into the city.

You find a small family-owned diner to grab a quick bite to eat. Getting seated at a booth near the windows, you watch the people pass by while you wait for your food to come.

“My apologies for taking so long to ask, but I have come to realize that I do not know your name,” Dr. Erskine pulls your attention back to him.

“Oh,” you start. Realizing that you also had never introduced yourself. “Well, my friends call me Vic.”

“Friends?” he repeats with a raised brow.

You realize your mistake a little too late. As the head scientist of the SSR, he was technically considered your superior. It’s been so long since you’ve worked with a superior that wasn’t your friend. Also, with one that you weren’t sleeping with…

You clear your throat and try again. “What I mean is that I haven’t really gone by my given name in a long time. It almost feels foreign whenever I do hear it.”

Erskine looks at you curiously. “And this Vic name was given to you by your friends?”

“Yes,” you confirm, before growing a little shy. “It’s actually short for Lady Victory,” you explain, your face heating in embarrassment. You’ve never actually had to be the one explaining it to anyone.

“Lady Victory?” he repeats, both brows now raised in intrigue. “And how did you manage to earn that name?”

“Well,” you laugh lightly. “It started after a few successful rounds of poker.” That makes Erskine laugh as well. “But, once I started working in the field, the name stuck. I became a lucky charm of sorts. Everyone would say that there was no way we could fail as long as Lady Victory was on our side. And that held true, at least until…” Your voice falls away and your eyes grow hollow. At least until the last mission.

“You have been to the war front?”

You pull yourself out of your dark thoughts and focus back on the doctor. “No. Not this war, at least. But I have seen war. Up close. It’s never easy.”

Erskine nods in agreement. He sits quietly for a moment, considering your words. “Have you considered submitting yourself as a candidate for Project Rebirth?”

You had reached for your glass of water and taken a sip when he asked his question. You choke upon swallowing the drink. So much for not screwing up the timeline. You’re pretty sure this conversation was never supposed to happen. You set your glass back down and attempt to cough the water out from where it’s trying to reach your lungs.

“I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you. But I must admit, you do have several of the qualities I am looking for in a candidate.”

After you’ve managed to catch your breath, you try to figure out the best way out of this. “The offer is generous, but that’s not my destiny.”

“What happened to faith?” Dr. Erskine smiles cryptically.

“I have faith that we will find the right person. But I know that isn’t me.” You release a breath of relief when the waitress arrives with the food. “Besides, can you imagine the Colonel’s reaction if you were to tell him you had picked a woman for the project?”

Erskine shrugs his shoulder. “He has been making his threats for months, but he knows that I will not make the serum until we have a candidate that I approve of.”

You can actually hear the record scratch sound effect going off in your mind. “Wait, I thought the Colonel said your formula was ready.”

“The formula, yes. I have all the ingredients ready. But the serum itself must be used within hours of preparation or the components will begin to degrade. It is a side effect from some of the ingredients used, but also works as a failsafe, should anyone think that they could steal it.”

You try to keep your face neutral, but internally your heart is sinking. This means that you coming early was a wasted effort and your only shot at getting a sample of the serum would be the day they turn Steve into a Super Soldier. And not only that but if you did manage to get your hands on a sample, it could degrade before being of any use to Dr. Banner.

In an effort to keep the despair off your face, you steer the conversation away and start to dig into the food that you no longer feel hungry for. Dr. Erskine turns out to be fairly good company and enjoys regaling you with tales of his home in Germany. It helps to keep him talking, so you can mentally plan just how you’re going to make it through these next few weeks, stuck in 1943.

Erskine offers to cover the cost of dinner, which you agree to, but only if he will let you pay for the next meal. He seems caught off guard by your proposal but then agrees with a quiet chuckle. As you prepare to leave, he places his fedora back onto his head and folds his coat over his arm. He then holds the door open as you exit the diner.

You both walk down the sidewalk in the direction toward the expo, occasionally needing to move behind one another to make room for people heading in the other direction. A flash of movement catches your attention from across the street. You narrow your gaze at the two men walking in the same direction as you and Erskine. They are both wearing fairly nondescript outfits in dark, neutral tones. Also wearing fedoras that they use to shadow their eyes. You notice one has a camera in his hands.

You quicken your steps to match up with the doctor, then wrap your arm through his. He looks down at you slightly startled, but you don’t pay him any mind. “Darling, that dress is lovely. Why don’t we take a look inside?” You point toward the display of a boutique and quickly usher him into the shop.

“Miss Vic, we really should be heading back to the recruitment center,” Dr. Erskine begins to protest.

You hush him and pull him deeper into the shop. “We were being followed. I noticed those two men loitering outside the bar across the street when we were at the diner. They stayed the whole time and didn’t begin to move until we did.”

“Are you certain?” he questions, looking back, but you’ve already pulled him too far into the shop.

“I am. One of them pulled out a camera and was trying to take pictures of you.”

“Hello, how can I help you?” the shop attendant takes that moment to make herself known.

You put a sweet smile into your face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you have a back door? It seems we’ve gotten a little turned around and we’re actually supposed to be on the next street over.”

The woman looks at you curiously, “Oh, we do, but it leads to a back alley, not the main street.”

“That’s all right. I’m sure we’ll find our way. Thank you!” Before she can come up with a response, you’re pulling Erskine after you and out the back. You check to make sure the coast is clear, before dragging him out. You run as fast as you can in your heels down the back alley toward the next street. You stop just short of the alley opening and press your back into the brick wall. Peaking around the corner, you find that the men aren’t anywhere to be seen.

You step out with Erskine and quickly hail a taxi. Not conforming to societal rules, you yank open the back door and shove him into the seat. “Don’t head directly for the expo. Drive aimlessly first, check for any tails. If you don’t see any, stop and switch to a new taxi before heading back.”

“What are you going to do?” he questions, still thrown off by what’s happening.

“I’m going to make sure they won’t follow you.”

You quickly shut the door to the cab and bang on the top to send it off. You then duck back into the alley. You’re almost to the back entrance of the boutique when the two men come stumbling out.

“You boys lost?” you question with an innocent tone to your voice. The two take one look at you before looking around for your charge. “I’m afraid it’s just the three of us.”

“We ain’t got no beef with you, Toots,” one of the men states in a heavy Brooklyn accent.

Your innocent façade drops instantly. Darting forward, you grab the man by the lapel of his coat. You use his surprise against him to swing his whole body around and slam his back into the brick wall. Your movement knocks the wind out of him and you quickly pin your forearm to the base of his neck to keep him from being able to regain his breath. “Who you callin’ Toots?” you question with a deadly tone in your voice.

“Geez, lady!” The man chokes out, raising his hands in surrender.

“Back up, if you don’t want to get hurt!”

You look over your shoulder to find the other one has a pistol aimed at you. Rolling your eyes, you release the first one and step back, your own hands now up in surrender. In a flash, you whip your arm out, grasping the gun and kick your foot out, straight into his knee. His leg buckles from beneath him and he loosens his hold on the gun as he falls.

You take the weapon into your own hands, holding it over him, while he kneels at your feet. “I think you’ll find that it’s actually you who should be worried about getting hurt, Toots,” you tell him, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

You catch the movement of the man’s eyes and turn back toward his partner, just a moment too late. The sound of a gun firing echoes down the alley moments before pain explodes in your side.

You cry out, barely managing to keep your grip on your own gun as you stumble into the brick wall.

“You shot her?!” the one kneeling bellows.

“She had a gun to your head!” The other argues.

“Red Skull’s gonna kill us if he finds out we were caught!”

“Not if we finish her off,” the one that shot you once begins to turn.

Your hand shakes as you try to raise your gun back up to defend yourself.

“Hey! Get away from her!” A new voice enters the fray.

The two men look to see someone else running into the alley. They are coming from your back and you fear if you attempt to look at who it is, you might pass out from the pain.

“Let’s get out of here,” the one that shot you tucks his gun away and helps pull the other to their feet. They take off before the newcomer can reach them.

“Miss, are you alright?”

This gunshot wound must be affecting you more than you thought because you could swear their voice sounds like-

Gentle hands grasp your shoulders as you stumble. You lift your head to meet a worried gaze. Soft blue eyes, framed by thick lashes, and two furrowed brows. It’s a look you’re all too familiar with and it always makes your heart clench.

Seeing it this time also makes your head swoon and your stomach flip. “Steve?” you barely manage to get out before your legs collapse.

Part 2

#steve rogers x reader #pre serum steve x reader #40s steve x reader #captain america x reader

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years

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hi! i really like your writing and was wondering if you’d recommend other authors that you enjoy or even specific fanfics you like? i’ve only just started getting into the steve/tony fandom and want to follow more people! thank you!

Hi there and welcome! We’re glad to have you here!! 💙

I’m more of an MCU kind of gal myself but if you’re interested in the comics, I highly recommend checking out the below authors and fics:

Living in the Future by Closer: Eighteen-year-old Tony Stark is the boy genius who woke Captain America, and now he's stuck with him. That's not a bad thing, but between Steve's wide-eyed wonder at the new world and Tony's little fanboy crush, the awkwardness just keeps happening.

@blossomsinthemist: seriously one of the best smut authors I’ve ever read with lots of feelings, trust me, you won’t regret getting into their works

@sineala: been writing Marvel since approximately 2014 (though if you like their works, it’s worth reading their other stuff as well even if you’re not familiar with the fandom, it’s all that good) and has written a lot of the classics including Like a Comet Streaming On and Slipping off the Page into Your Hands

Stars Fading, but I Linger On, Dear by Chibisquirt: A Soulmate AU where people meet their soulmate in their dreams. Of course, not even that solves all the world's problems, especially if one or more of the soulmates has a secret identity...

MCU and Ambiguous Fandom:

@festiveferret: has written so much and I can pretty much guarantee that you’ve stumbled across something that they’ve written at least once, writes both on tumblr and on ao3 but everything they post on tumblr is also cross-posted to ao3 so you don’t have to go digging through their blog to find ficlets

@no-gorms: has literally the most interesting AUs, I always read whatever is new pretty much the moment it comes out, can promise lots of feelings and happy endings

A Series of Learning Experiences by @riotfalling: In which Tony finds out that his tiny artist boyfriend is not a nice boy. In the best possible way. (Riot doesn’t write much Stevetony but what she does write is amazing)

Heart in Hand by janonny: Or the story where Tony, an Omega, holds a much belated Courting Ceremony. Steve joins up and loses his mind a little.

@maguna-stxrk: writes lots of fluff here on tumblr

@omg-just-peachy: widely acknowledged as the inventor of fluff

@itsallavengers: no longer as active but writes the most heartbreaking angst with a happy ending, you will feel so many things, has written classics like Versions of Reality and Nobody Panic, Everything’s Fine

@aurumacadicus: I’ve said before (I think on the stuckony reclist) that her version of Tony is my favorite but I’m going to say it again: seriously, fantastic Tony

Finding Pack by @naferty: In a world where pack means everything from status to fame to survival and to family, newly pack-less Tony Stark is trying to survive after those he once trusted betrayed him, and starting over by searching for a new pack to take him in, but with his age and status weighing heavily on his shoulders finding someone to take a chance on him might be easier said than done.What pack wanted an old infertile omega in their ranks? Certainly not the famous Avengers pack led by the equally famous Captain. (one day this fic will be finished and when that happens, I will scream for three days straight)

@sabrecmc: hmmm yes, especially check out Celestial Navigation and The Prize (also has an incredibly comprehensive rec blog, @sabrecmcstonyficrecs)

Sunrise by NotEvenCloseToStraight: Nomad is a soldier forced to do Hydra's bidding. When his mission takes him to the castle and to the bed chambers of Prince Antony Stark, Nomad is faced with a choice-- to finish his mission and finally earn his freedom or to save the last piece of his scarred soul and let the beautiful Prince live.Antony is trapped in the Palace, his life controlled by his Uncle, the Sovereign Stane. He yearns for a life beyond the palace walls but when the Nomad breaks into his rooms with blade held at the ready, Antony thinks all is lost--and then the assassin hesitates.Steven and Antony are two souls together in the moonlight, two lives on the cusp of ruin and as the sun rises over the palace, perhaps they will be two kindred spirits, finding freedom in each other's arms.

take my heart clean apart by mistymountainking: Tony comes home exhausted after an SI event. Steve acts as welcoming committee. It's an old, careworn routine they've perfected over the years, but tonight ends up going in a very different direction.

Dear Mr. Fantasy by @pineapplebread: Tony writes letters to his past loves to get over them. They’re all but meaningless by this point, but he keeps them hidden anyways, never to be seen or read by anyone else. Until one day they all mysteriously get sent out.His deepest secrets are revealed and he scrambles to do damage control, striking a deal to enter a fake relationship with Steve Rogers who just wants his ex back. Tony conveniently forgets to mention that the only love letter he still means is the one he wrote to his fake boyfriend.

slipping through the years by often_adamanta: The plane crash and subsequent ice might have killed him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still around, haunting those he cares about. And since the only person who can see him is Tony Stark, death sure isn’t going to be boring.

Insomnia by Scavenge4Dreams: Its 3am. Do you know where your Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist is?

rough enough for love by silkspectred: The first time they had sex was right after their first kiss. Steve dropped to his knees and then Tony reciprocated after making Steve lie down on the bed. The second time it was Steve that initiated it, slow handjobs under the hot spray of the shower, and Tony looked surprised by it. Like it was weird that Steve wanted it. Wanted him.

I’m a Grown-Ass Man by not_applicable: or, 5 Times Steve Carried Tony and 1 Time Tony Didn't Mind. At all.

Containment by D: After Tony ends up severely injured from a surprise attack, triggering a flashback and putting him in the hospital for emergency surgery, the Avengers come together in worry for their friend and teammate and are disquieted by the intensity of Tony’s reaction. Between the flashback and the sedatives, Tony’s mind revisits key moments in his life while the team bands together in support of each other and their injured friend, letting SHIELD handle Tony’s attacker, they remain where they are needed, even if Tony isn’t awake to truly realize this. And through it all, Steve makes a decision that will change things with Tony.

His Fate Will Be Unlearned by scifigrl47: Tony Stark spent his childhood making weapons, filling the hole his father left in the world when he succumbed to alcohol, grief, and his own demons. At the age of fifteen, he ran away from home, and made it as far as MIT before all of his responsibilities caught up to him. Now seventeen, he just wants to finish his degree and escape from everything connected to the Stark name. Steve Rogers crashed into the icy North Atlantic in the 1940's, sacrificing himself to save the world. He never expected to wake up, and now that he has, he's not sure he's glad. The US Army has other plans for him, but for now, Steve is slowly learning to live life in the 21st century, and taking classes at Boston College. He's beginning to suspect that there is no escape. Boston College is on the T's Green Line. MIT is on the Red. The two lines meet at the Park Street Station, and so will Steve and Tony.

The Twice-Told Tale by arysteia: For someone he'd hero-worshipped for so long, Steve Rogers in the flesh is a pretty big disappointment. For one thing, he keeps looking at Tony as though he reminds him of someone else, and even if he never says anything, Tony's pretty sure it's his father. A lifetime of not measuring up to Howard's expectations is more than enough, thank you very much, and he's certainly not going to make an effort to live up to any of Steve's. Steve's pretty clearly failed to live up to his expectations, in any case, and that's not hypocritical at all.

Like Gene Kelly in the Movies by lyra_wing: Everything Tony Stark does is a dance. And it's super confusing for Steve.

bedrock and brick by lyra_wing: Immediate sequel to the movie, wherein Tony builds Avengers Tower. Or plays interior designer, take your pick.

#stevetony #fic recs #long post #alle answers #Anonymous

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fandomtrashfox · 2 years

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MCU Hogwarts houses

Edit: Making this clear, I do not support JK Rowling or Harry Potter anymore.

Loki- Slytherin. Was there any contest? I don’t think so. His aesthetic, their personality, his vibe even, it all screams Slytherin. Thor- Gryffindor. Courage, Daringness, nerve, and Chivalry. All of those things are the main components of Thor’s personality. It also works for the sibling rivalry situation between him and his brother. Captain America- Gryffindor. I’ve seen a few people argue Hufflepuff and I honestly don’t get it. Steve is the embodiment of truth, justice, and the american dream. So much so that he’s willing to throw out his loyalty to the american government to uphold his moral compass. Thus, Gryffindor is the only choice for him in my book. Iron Man- I feel confident in saying he’d be a Ravenclaw. His first instinct when it comes to running into a problem is using the tech he manufactured to his advantage, and using his intelligence to come up with plans that people often don’t expect. (Iron man 3′s ending fight scene anyone?) He literally builds his identity on his intelligence and what it grants him. Bruce Banner- In my opinion, I feel like he’d also be a Ravenclaw. Shock to no-one, Mr ‘I have seven PHDs how many does Hulk have’ is a Ravenclaw. (Hulk doesn’t get his own hogwarts house.) Pietro Maximoff- Gryffindor. Pietro can’t be a Hufflepuff because like most speedsters, he has very little to no patience. He’s also the type to literally die trying to save someone, even soeone he had an unspoken rivalry with, which is far more of a Gryffindor trait than a Hufflepuff one to me. Wanda Maximoff- A fellow Slytherin after my own heart. Resourceful, Cunning, and Ambitious, there’s no way that she could be anything else. She even fits the vibe of a Slytherin. Mysterious, somewhat intimidating, but isn’t outright evil. Vision- He’s a Ravenclaw, no contest. This man is literally a super-computer, he has knowledge for days. Falcon- Hufflepuff. There is no other option. This man is a Hufflepuff, period. Bucky- Gryffindor. Figures Steve’s best friend would share the same house. Courage, nerve, chivalry, it’s all the same as it was for Steve. Spiderman- Hufflepuff. I mean, no wonder he’s one of my favorites- Peter clearly has the valuing hard-work aspect of Hufflepuffs down. He greatly admires the work everyone round him puts in, and even more greatly values people’s dedication. In terms of courage and chivalry, he’s not as well-rounded in those areas imo, and while he’s intelligent and clever, it’s definitely not his defining attributes. And...he’s not a Slytherin. I don’t think I even need to explain why. Starlord- Slytherin. Hear me out on this one. P quill’s situation is a bit hard to pin down, but I think of all the houses, Slytherin fits him the best. Maybe not in general aesthetics, but in the core personality traits. Griffyndor doesn’t fit mainly because of Peter’s lack of chivalry. Sure, he saved the galaxy, but in terms of genuine care for the people around him, it usually only applies to people he has a genuine bond with. Hufflepuff, he fits the aesthetic of one, the ‘fun-loving himbo’, but besides that, he doesn’t really have much in common with them. However, he’s street-smart, resourceful, and very ambitious. Attempting to make a name for himself and be the leader of any group he finds himself working with. (I mean, he tries to one-up Thor constantly, after all.) T’challa- Hufflepuff. The aesthetics betray the core principals that make up each house I notice. As, T’challa isn’t the partying himbo type, but he’s very loyal to Wakanda and his people/ancestry/culture. He does put value in hard work and dedication, and he’s nothing if not a patient man. I mean his core fighting plan is waiting for just the right moment to strike, like a real panther, so- Ant-man- Griffyndor. Chivalry is his thing. He literally went to prison because he hacked and ‘stole’ back money for people who were conned out of it. Courage? Well, he’s certainly not a coward. This guy is just one of those characters that fits very well into one specific house without much need for explanation. Dr Strange- Ravenclaw. Again: Fits very well into one specific house without much need for explanation. Hela- Slytherin. Like, as if there wasn’t already enough reasons to point out the ‘pick which of these three is adopted’ meme-

#mcu fandom #mcu hogwarts #hogwarts house headcanons #headcanons just for fun #just for fun #marvel hogwarts houses #mcu hogwarts houses #i'm bored #marvel alternate universe #hogwarts house pride #i was bored

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Your Top Five Pulp Heroes that you wish were better known? By Pulp Hero fans, I mean. Since pretty much all of them except Conan and Tarzan are fairly unknown.

It’s actually quite hard for me to narrow it down to just five, because I’m having to choose between characters that are my favorites that I wish were more well-known and appreciated (which is all of them), and characters that aren’t quite my favorites but I very much think should have achieved great popularity for a myriad of reasons. So instead I’m going to pick some of each. These are not necessarily ranked by their importance or my personal taste, just 5 characters I felt like highlighting in particular.

Honorable mentions goes to characters I already talked about prior and don’t want to repeat myself on. These aren’t “lesser” picks, just ones that I already talked about: Imaro (who in particular definitely feels like he could, and should be, a pop culture superstar if he was only more well-known), Kapitan Mors (who’s got a lot in common with one of my favorite fictional characters, Captain Nemo, but also has a lot of interesting things going on for him as his own character). Sar Dubnotal (a character that appeals a lot to me and I think should be included much more often in pulp hero team-ups). The Golden Amazon (again, definitely a character that feels like it’s just begging to have a pop culture breakout, even comic books rarely if ever have female supervillains this ruthless and over-the-top), The Mexican Fantomas (who absolutely deserves a better name than what I’m calling him here, because he’s incredibly awesome and leagues ahead of just being a knock-off). And of course my homeboy, The Grey Claw, whom I would consider Number One of the list if it wasn’t for the fact that his obscurity has left him untouched by copyright and I got plans of my own for the character that wouldn’t be possible if he was more well-known, so I guess I’m ultimately glad he’s obscure (even if I’m still bothered by how little he’s known).

Allright let’s go:

Number 5: Sheridan Doome

Sheridan Doome appeared in fifty-four stories and three novels from 1935 to 1943. As chief detective for U.S. Naval Intelligence, Lieutenant Commander Sheridan Doome’s job was a grim one. Whenever an extraordinary mystery or crime occurred in the fleet, on a naval base, or anywhere the navy worked to protect American interests, Doome was immediately dispatched to investigate it. Fear and dread would always precede Doome’s arrival in his special black airplane. For, in an explosion during WWI, he had been monstrously disfigured.

He was six feet two inches tall; had a chalk-white face and head. It appeared as though it had once been seared or burned. For eyes, he had only black blotches; glittering optics, that looked like small chunks of coal. His nose was long, the end of it squared off rudely. He had no lips, just a slit that was his mouth. His neck was long, as white and as bony as his face…. Sheridan Doome looked more like a robot than a human being. He was tall and ghastly; his uniform fitted him in a loose manner. Long arms hung at his sides; his face was a perfect blank. He had no control of his facial muscles; consequently, his countenance was always without expression, chalky and bony.

But behind the ugliness was a brilliant mind. Sheridan Doome always got his man. Before Sheridan Doome became a staple in the pages of The Shadow magazine, two Doome hardcover mysteries were written in the mid-1930’s by acclaimed hard-boiled author Steve Fisher (I Wake Up Screaming) and edited by his wife Edythe Seims (Dime Detective, G-8 and His Battle Aces). Age of Aces now brings you both books in one huge double novel, presented in a retro “flip book” style. This book is currently Out of Print.

I sadly don’t have any more information on the character other than this. The book is unavailable for me to acquire in any capacity, and the text above is taken from the Age of Aces website as well as Jess Nevins’s personal profile for the character. I’m not even sure if any of those 54 stories even exist anymore, since although he was published as a backup in Shadow Magazine, there doesn’t seem to be reprints of them anywhere, at least as far as I can find, and the original Shadow magazines have largely turned to dust by now.

A character who combines aspects of The Phantom of the Opera and The Shadow, whose adventures are set in a backdrop that can easily lead to ocean adventures? That’s like, what, three of my favorite things in the world combined. I really, really wish I could at least read the stories this character stars in, but as is, this description is all I can provide. Again, time really has been cruel to the pulp heroes.

Number 4: Harlan Dyce

This is another character I’ve only been able to learn about through Jess Nevins’s archives and have not been able to attain any further information on, which is sadly the case with a lot of pulp heroes that nowadays only seem to exist as footnotes in his Encyclopedia or records in libraries. I don’t post more about these characters because I really would just be copying the stuff he wrote without much to justify me quoting him verbatim, and I hate the idea of doing that.

I especially hate that in Harlan Dyce’s case though. Here’s his description

“Dyce had brains, taste, money, ambition, and a total lack of physical or spiritual fear. But—

“Dyce was thirty-three inches tall and weighed sixty pounds.

“That was all the world could ever hold against him. That was what had made the world, most of it, in all the countries of the world, stare at Harlan Dyce, billed in the big show as “General Midge.””

Harlan Dyce is a misanthropic and venomous private detective. He has an “amazingly handsome face,” and the aforementioned brains. But all anyone sees is his stature, and he hates that and turns his cold eyes and acid tongue on them.

The only person Dyce likes and gets along with (besides his dwarf wife, a former client) is his assistant, Nick Melchem, a six-foot tall former p.i.’s assistant with bleak eyes and a strong body. Melchem ignores Dyce’s stature and treats Dyce normally, which Dyce responds warmly to.

Dwarfs may be the single most maligned group of people depicted in pulp magazines, even more so than the Japanese in the war years or the Chinese during the peak of the Yellow Peril’s popularity. Evil dwarfs, murderous dwarfs, sexually depraved dwarfs, they are all loathsome, ugly cliches that are, sadly, the only instances you see of dwarf characters being represented at all, with the only ones who are awarded any measure of sympathy are doomed henchmen or tragic villains. Even outside of the pulps, the only other examples of heroic, protagonist dwarfs I can think off the top of my head are Puck from Marvel Comics and Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones.

I’m not gonna say Harlan Dyce is great representation because I’m not a little person and can never make that kind of claim for a group I’m not a part of, but Harlan Dyce may be the first time I’ve ever seen a dwarf character in pulp fiction who was not a villain or a murderous goon or a victim, but an actual person and a heroic protagonist, and that definitely counts for something. I’m not sure how popular this character was or could be if someone picked up the concept and ran with it (and I’m pretty sure he’s public domain), but I definitely think this is a character that should exist and should be popular.

Hell, this character has Peter Dinklage written all over it, give it to him. Maybe then he will get to play a smart, fearless, cynical, misanthropic but good-natured and heroic character in something where he actually gets to keep these traits until the show ends.

Number 3: Audaz, O Demolidor

Audaz is a Brazilian character who was created and published by Gazetinha, the same publishers of Grey Claw as well as properties exported from elsewhere like Superman and Popeye, and much like The Grey Claw, he is also completely unknown even here. I’ll get to Audaz more in-depth sometime but here I’m going to provide a quick summary:

Audaz, The Demolisher is a gigantic crime-fighting robot controlled and piloted by the brilliant scientist Dr. Blum, his close friend Gregor and the child prodigy Jacques Ennes, who pilot the giant robot from a massive laboratory inside it's head rather than a cockpit. He takes on a variety of ordinary human criminals, mad scientists, supervillains and invading armies, towering over skyscrapers and grappling with jets.

Audaz was created in 1939 by illustrator Messias de Melo, a year before Quality Comics's Bozo the Iron Man and 5 years before Ryuichi Yokoyama's Kagaku Senshi, and decades before the debut of Mazinger Z. Although he is not the first giant robot of science fiction, he is the first heroic giant robot piloted by human pilots, and thus the first true example of "mecha" fiction.

Number 2: Emilia the Ragdoll

This is another Brazilian character, although nowhere near as obscure as Audaz as even a cursory Google search can show. Although Brazil did not have a “pulp era” in the same way the US had, we’ve long gotten past the point of sticking to it as a definitive rule, and I’m including Emilia as a pulp hero because she’s a 1920s fantasy literature character who was created under a publishing company that released pulp stories, because she doesn’t quite belong in the mold of fantasy literature characters she takes after, and because I like her and if I was putting a bunch of pulp heroes together in the same story, I would definitely include Emilia in it. It’s not like she really has anywhere else to go, now that she’s public domain and she’s outlasted her franchise.

As you can tell by the above image, Emilia’s had a lot of variations over the years and that’s because the work she was created for, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo (Yellow Woodpecker Ranch/Farm), has become a major bedrock of Brazilian fantasy literature, one of the only works created here that you can find substantial information about in English if you go looking for it. Here’s some descriptions of Emilia’s character:

Emília is a rag doll described as "clumsy" or "ugly", resembling a "witch" that was handmade by Aunt Nastácia, the ranch's cook, for the little girl Lúcia, out of an old skirt. After Lucia takes her on an adventure and the doll is given a dose of magic pills, Emília suddenly started talking, and would never stop henceforth.

Emilia has a rough, antagonistic personality, and an independent, free-spirited and anarchist behaviour. She is rogue, rebellious, stubborn, rough and intensely determined at anything she sets her mind on, eager to take off on just about any adventure. She is often immature and behaves like a curious and arrogant child, always wanting to be the center of attention.

She is extremely opinionated even when she constantly and confidently mispronounces words and expressions. Her attitude often gets her into trouble, and she very often has to fight against the villains who attack her home on the Yellow Woodpecker Farm and mistreat her friends.

In the stories, Emilia often takes the role of a heroine who travels through different realms and dimensions, as the books include not only figures from Brazilian and worldwide folklore, but also several characters both real and fictional, such as Hercules, King Arthur, Don Quixote, Thumbelina, Da Vinci, Shirley Temple, Captain Hook, Santos Dumont and Baron von Munchausen.

She's fought scorpions and martians and nymph hordes, her arch-enemy is an alligator witch, she rescued an angel from the Milky Way and tried to teach it how to become a human, and once shrunk the entire population of Earth to try and talk the president of the United States into ending war forever.

To little surprise, she has become the most popular character and the series’s mascot.

It’s a little strange to consider Emilia underrated considering she is one of the most famous original characters of Brazilian literature, but hardly anyone outside of Brazil even knows who she is, and regardless of the quality of the original stories (and Monteiro Lobato’s views on race that tar much of his reputation), Emilia definitely feels to me like a character that should be a lot more popular globally.

She is the only character from Yellow Woodpecker Ranch that has transcended the original stories, since she was always the most popular character and there’s been a couple of stories written about her that usually separate her from the ranch and just set her out on the world by herself. The latest story about this character has been a series called The Return of Emilia, that’s about her stepping out of the books in 2050 and discovering a Brazil that’s been ruined by social and ecological devastation, and traveling back in time via a flying scooter in order to try and prevent this calamity.

Now that she’s public domain, I definitely think there’s some great stories that can be told with the character that just about anyone could get to, and I definitely think she’s a character that deserves more appreciation. Anything goes in stories starring her and it’s that kind of free-for-all freedom that I think can benefit future takes on pulp heroes. I would be very happy to place Emilia among them.

Oh yeah, and there was one time she kicked Popeye's ass by tricking him with a can of mouldy cabbage instead of spinach, making him sick and then beating him, which possibly puts her as one of the all-time badasses of fiction, except she would be pissed at not being number one and likely embark on a quest to beat everyone else just to prove she could, because that’s how Emilia rolls.

Number 1: Luna Bartendale, from The Undying Monster (1922)

Not necessarily my favorite of the bunch, but one who sort of epitomizes what you asked, a character who is both incredibly obscure and incredibly underrated in every sense. Despite the book being somewhat known, mainly thanks to the movie, the character is so obscure that I don’t even have an illustration of her to display here, not even fan art, just one of the book’s covers that I think best conveys it. Luckily, the book is also available freely online, so you can all go check it out here. The movie adaptation does not feature the character of Luna Bartendale which makes it pointless to talk about.

To not spoil it too much, The Undying Monster is a very fascinating book, ahead of it’s time in quite a few ways. You expect it to just be a detective story centered around a werewolf cursed, except the subtitle of the book is “The Fifth Dimension” and then it goes to talk about dimensions of thought and post-WWI trauma and love and hypnotic regression that travels through time and ancient runes and Norse mythology. It’s not exactly an easy book to get through in one setting, but I’d recommend it much the same if only because it’s got supersensitive psychic sleuth Luna Bartendale, literature’s first female occult detective, and she’s an incredible character who absolutely feels like she should have become a literary icon.

She lives in London but is world-renowned for her many good deeds. She is a small, pretty woman, with curly blonde hair, dark eyebrows and a high-bridged nose, and a slight build. She has a voice described as a light soprano that "does not make much noise but carries a long way".

Petite, bedimpled and golden curled, Luna is completely in charge of events, dominating every scene that she appears in with her welcoming disposition and cleverness.

Bartendale has various psychic powers, including mind reading. She is well-versed in psychic and occult lore, is a “supersensitive” psychic, and has a “Sixth Sense” which allows her to trace things and people through both the Fourth and the Fifth Dimension. (The Fifth Dimension is “the Dimension that surrounds and pervades the Fourth–known as the Supernatural”).

Her extensive knowledge of occult rites and practices puts John Silence, Carnacki and Miles Pennoyer to shame, and she beats them all with her "super-sensitive" gift of being able to psychically connect with troubled souls and hypnotize them.

She uses a divining rod for various tasks, including psychic detection and tracking, and distinguishing between benevolent and malevolent forces. She has various (undefined) powerful psychic defenses, can carry on seances, and can even cure a person of “wehrwolfism.” And she can always rely on her massive, intelligent dog Roska for help.

Luna sadly doesn’t show up in the book as often as I’d hoped, but everything about this character is so delightful. In a lot od ways she hardly feels like a pulp hero, at least the ones I usually talk about. She feels like a lost protagonist from an incredibly successful kid’s adventure series where a kind and eccentric detective witch and her giant dog go around solving occult mysteries and encountering all sorts of weird supernatural beings while counseling and helping people, like Ms Frizzle meets Hilda. Like this character is just waiting for Cartoon Saloon to make a film about her.

Its not so much “this character should/could be popular but it’s clear why that didn’t pan out”, it’s more me being confused as “why the hell isn’t she super popular? This character should have had a franchise ages ago, holy shit put her in everything””

#pulp heroes #pulp fiction #answer tag #sheridan doome #harlan dyce #audaz #boneca emilia #luna bartendale

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peachyteabuck · 4 years

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come water me ☂

summary: after years of depending on science to give you a child, you think giving a magic a shot isn’t a half-bad idea (a commission for @myhoneybeeheart)

pairing: steve rogers x thor odinson x reader (established steve rogers x reader)

words: 3,538

trigger warnings: infertility, MMF threesomes, creampies, praise kink, breeding kink, cuckolding, angst if you squint but like REALLY squint. REALLY REALLY squint.

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

You and Steve had both done every test known to every male and female fertility specialist in the United States, along with several European countries, Japan, China, and Australia. Every single one, for each of you, pointed to the same thing – infertility.

Persistent infertility. As in, the both of you are not only infertile, but will continue to be infertile despite any type of treatments any type of doctor wants to put you through. Steve doesn’t qualify for experimental treatments, and you’ve tried at least five to no avail.

Long story short, neither of you can have biological children.

The problem is, you both really want biological children. But, according to biology, it just isn’t going to happen.

“Science says so,” the last doctor had told you, voice full of apology. “I’m so sorry.”

That particularly heartbreaking appointment was in the late afternoon, but the battery of tests meant you and your husband were stuck in the shitty doctor’s office until long past when the sun had set. You were grateful how dark it was when you left, terrified some Captain America stan or paparazzi would get a high definition picture of both you with puffy faces along with snot and stray tears still running down your face. It was late when you got back to your secluded high rise, neither of you hungry nor willing to feign it enough to order something. You didn’t know about Steve, but the sadness had somehow overwhelmed every single one of your senses – making your taste buds pointless and limbs numb. Silently, the both of you got ready for bed and held each other as emotional exhaustion acted as a second weighted blanket and lulled you both to sleep.

It was the next morning when you thought of what you had dubbed “the plan.” You had gotten up before Steve (unusual, as you’d been together long enough that wallowing in self pity was a shared activity) and sat at the kitchen table with unbrushed teeth, messy hair, and the sort of determination that comes with a self-reflexive ultimatum: if “the plan” didn’t work, you’d stop trying. You’d tell Steve that you’ve come to terms with your inability to conceive and continue your journey to start from the assumption that there was nothing either of you could do to make it happen. It’s a heartbreaking reality, but it was one you were willing to accept.

It took a few days to work up the courage, to find the right time to broach the idea with the man you chose to spend the rest of your life with. The perfect moment ended up being when you were both eating dinner, Steve telling a story about something ridiculous Peter had done on a mission (turns out, flirting with a fellow agent undercover as a full service sex worker is not a good idea). You were both happy, incredibly so, and you knew whenever your husband talked about the kid it ignited the special light inside of him that wanted to be a father.

It was the tail end of the story, he was two beers down (a special mix Tony had concocted that balanced with Steve’s serum-induced metabolism), and he was happy. So with a deep inhale and sustained eye contact, you rambled with your prepared speech that covered a few of concerns you knew Steve would have and informed him of your personal deal.

You finished quickly – words tumbling out of your mouth before you knew they were being spoken. Your heart beat loudly in your chest, blood rushed to your ears. You were terrified.

That was, until Steve gave his reply a few hours later.

(He asked if he could table the conversation for a little while, wanting to “think it over.” Of course you told him it was okay, especially since you knew there was dessert still waiting to be eaten in the fridge, and you were still very hungry.)

You imagined a lot of responses from your husband, the worst of which sounded like the beginning of a particularly sad Shonda Rhimes television show:

“You want to what?” Steve nearly screams. “You want to invite Thor Odinson in our marriage bed so that we can have a child!? No! I won’t allow it!”

You fall to the ground, sobbing, clutching your phone as you scream back. “I want what’s best for us! For our family! For our future child!”

Steve storms out of the bedroom, turning back to your crumbled figure just before stomping out. “I’m calling a divorce lawyer. I want you out by Monday.”

You expected you’d have to convince him, would have to coax his clenched jaw towards your face so he’d know how serious you are from the look in your eyes. Maybe you’d have to wait days, weeks, months before he’d agree, would have to have long conversations with him and his colleague about negotiations and boundaries and whatever else.

What you didn’t expect was for Steve to agree not only immediately, but enthusiastically.

“T-that’s it?” you asked. You both were in bed, reading separate books before you’d each turn off the lights and go to sleep. He was reading something about battle tactics during Vietnam while you were thumbing through a book about the history of swearing.

Steve did not look up from his novel. “You want to have a threesome with Thor in the hopes it’ll give us a baby?”

You looked to him, brow furrowed. “Yeah?”

Now he puts the book down and turns to you. “The worst thing that happens is we have sex with a literal deity?”

At first you think he’s joking but, nope. He’s serious.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply again.

Steve shrugs before going back to his book. “Then yeah, but you have to call him.”

You blink a few times – shocked. Pleasantly shocked, but still shocked. “That’s…a deal. Yeah. I can, I’ll talk to him.”

Steve smiles, turning back to you once more and giving you a peck on the cheek. “Sounds good, babe. Let me know what he says.”

You nod, still a little surprised. “O-of course.”

With that, the conversation ends, and you need to figure out how to contact the man in question.

The next morning, you learn from the detailed calendar Tony’s assistant keeps that Thor’s on Migard for the rest of the month, doing…whatever. Honestly, you have no idea what he’s doing, and – even more honestly – you don’t care. Short of saving an entire population from destruction, you’re sure he can make time for you.

Luckily you find him easily, watching some reality show about weird white people in the living room of a common floor. You take deep breaths for stepping into eyeshot, asking if you can sit next to him (he says yes) before you start what is likely the most uncomfortable conversation of your life.

Somehow, though, Thor beats you to it. “If you want me to help you and Steve conceive, just tell me the date and time you want me in your bed.”

Even more so than when Steve accepted your recent proposal, you’re surprised by Thor’s forwardness. “Um-“

Thor smiles, putting a comforting arm around your shoulders before pulling you close against him. “Listen, I’ve done this with many families on many planets. I’ve never done it on Earth, but I’m willing to give it a try for you two. You deserve a child, and I’d be happy to help with that.”

You wipe a stray tear before allowing yourself to be enveloped into Thor’s massive arms. “Thank you,” you tell him after your heart had stopped beating at your ribs as if they were boxers going for the championship title. “Thank you so much.”

You feel Thor smile against the side of your head. “Of course, anything for you.”

You return to Steve with your findings, who agrees to set it up for the next night. The few hours before the mythical man is scheduled to arrive are an otherworldly combination, as if you had put giddy excitement, gut-wrenching fear, and determined optimism in a Nutribullet with bananas and strawberries and vanilla Greek yogurt and served it with-

“Honey, he said we both have to eat before,” Steve pulls the breaks on your train of thought, nudging your plate of food towards you with a small smile. “I’ve known you for long enough to know what you overthinking and forgetting to eat looks like.”

You nod and sigh, biting into the seasoned steamed vegetables. “Sorry, I-“

Steve shakes his head, swallowing whatever from his plate he was chewing. “I’ve also known you long enough to not need you to explain. Just eat.”

He’s right, you think as you clear your plate. You’ve known Steve for over a decade, dating for nine of them and married for seven. He met you through Natasha, who knew you from your work as a professor studying the differing effects of veterans and civilians (how she found you is still a mystery) and invited you to a conference that Stark was funding and therefore required the Avengers to make an appearance. He knew everything about you, and you knew everything about him.

For the first time in a long time, you wonder whether that’s a good thing, or a bad one.

When Thor arrives, he directs the two of you with ease, accepting a glass of expensive red wine as he follows you to the expansive bedroom.

He makes you strip first, tells you to lay in the center of the bed with your legs spread over the end and arms at your side. Steve’s next, already half-hard as he takes his position by your head, on his knees so he can watch the show in front of you. He’s naked, erection hard against his chiseled stomach.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him, blissed out before anything had ever begun.

He smiles down at you, same look in his eye the same day you got married. “You, too babe.”

Thor lets you have the moment as he undresses himself, letting you wrap a hand around Steve’s cock as he slots himself between your legs.

“Mm,” Thor hums, tracking your every move with a precise eye. “What a pretty cunt you have…”

A deep moan from you cuts him off as he kneels and licks a wide stripe up your dripping center, his large hands moving under your knees to bend your legs to your chest.

“Oh!” you cry, one of your hands moving to clutch his long blonde hair. “Oh that feels so good!”

You can feel Thor smiling into your folds as one of his perfectly calloused fingers slowly enters you, reveling in your now-mindless acceptance of pleasure. “So tight,” he moans. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

It doesn’t take long for your brain to fry, losing your ability to do anything but moan and sloppily jerk off your husband as Thor begins to fuck two fingers in and out of you at a bruising pace.

Steve watches you intensely, takes over jerking his own dick when you lose control of the muscles in your hands.

Thor scoffs, rolling his eyes you pout when his lips leave you.

“C’mon, love,” he murmurs into your inner thigh. “Don’t neglect the man.”

Nearly panting, you wrap your lips around Steve’s cock while Thor continues eating you out.

“Fuck you’re so good at this,” Steve hisses as you start to gag on him, running your tongue on the underside of his cock.

You do your best to smile as one hand moves to play with his balls, eyes screwing shut as you turn all your attention onto your husband’s cock.

“That feel good?” Thor asks, hand around the base of his cock. He grunts when Steve nods, his head thrown back in ecstasy. “C’mon, Stevie. Tell me how good your wife’s mouth feels on your dick.”

Steve swallows what little spit is left in his mouth before trying to remember how to speak. “It f-feels so good,” he’s breathless, chest straining as he tries not to come. “Wet and t-tight, the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

Thor grunts deep in his chest, as if he’s restraining himself. “Keeping going – and tell me when you’re about to cum.”

Steve moans when he hits the back of your throat, both hands now tangled in your hair. “F-feels so good, like she’s sucking the life out of me through my fucking dick- Oh fuck!”

You’re deep throating him now, breathing through your nose as you gag.

“T-Thor,” he moans, voice strained. “I-I think I’m-“

“Stop,” the man at the end of the bed commands as he continues fucking his fingers in and out of you. Reluctantly, you do as you’re told, ceasing all actions and giving Steve the most pitiful look you can muster.

“C’mere pretty girl,” Thor murmurs, leaving one last kiss at the most sensitive part of you. “It’s time for me to fuck you.”

You and Steve both moan deeply as he lifts himself to his feet and aligns himself with your center – hardened cock bobbing against his stomach. The sight is enough to make your center tighten, skin on fire as you wait for him to gift you reprieve.

“Such a perfect little pussy,” Thor mumbles to no one but himself, grinning wide as he enters you.

Little words are exchanged after that, Thor focusing on the feeling of your cunt instead of talking.

“Oh Thor-“ you moan, pulling away from Steve to throw your head back once more. “Oh shit holy-“

Thor just laughs, leaning down so he can kiss you. He places one hand next to your head for balance, the other moving to jerk Steve’s cock for you. His whole body works like a perfectly build machine, hips and hand working in tandem to get all three of you off. His movements are languid and purposeful, as if each muscle contraction and release was planned long, long ago in some expert fashion.

As Steve moans once again that he’s close, you remember what Thor had told you the day previous – that he had done this for other people attempting to build their families. In an instant, you were struck with the fear that this was somehow mechanical for him, something he was doing out of some sense of duty with half his brain focused on what he was going to have for dinner or what fruit was in season – something mundane and minutely distracting so he could phone it in and take the credit when the pregnancy test came back positive.

Thor notices you’re drifting away, grabs you with one hand and coaxes your eyes to meet his. “Don’t worry about anything, baby,” he tells you, voice low in his chest. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

It’s comforting – you can’t describe why, don’t even understand why; but even if you could, Steve’s begging cuts your train of thought short.

“Fuck please,” his voice is high and desperate, anything left of his precious Captain America façade torn to shreds by the possibility of denial. “Please let me come!”

Thor just shakes his head and smiles, putting him through the same torture as he did before but continuing fucking you – ignoring Steve’s cries as he rubs at your clit.

“Ignore him, baby,” he murmurs to you, “C’mon, focus on how good it’s gonna feel when I make you come.”

That’s all it takes for you to lose yourself, to throw your head back and buck your hips up and scream as loud as your exhausted lung will allow. At the last second before you reach your peak Thor moves away from you to grab the back of Steve’s head, pulling the man into a deep kiss.

“Fuck,” Thor groans against Steve’s lips. “Fuck you’re both so gorgeous I’m, fuck, I’m gonna-“

Thor releases himself inside of you with a deafening shout, moaning into Steve’s mouth as his come spills out of you. You’re speechless, watching them kiss above you while you pant.

For a moment there’s silence – the thick scent of sex and the wet sounds of their mouths and your pussy being the only things that fill the air. The only thing that cuts through it is Thor’s gruff voice instructing Steve to take his place between your legs.

The shuffling is awkward but gives you a minute to breathe, the clouds in your brain clearing with a few seconds of being left alone. Unlike Steve, Thor lays next to you on his side, one hand framing your jaw as he kisses you deeply.

Steve takes a moment to admire Thor’s cum dripping out of your pussy, resisting the urge to kneel down and lay his tongue there and drink it all down.

He swallows what little spit is left in his mouth as he enters you, body trembling as his eyes roll to the back of his head. The feeling of your pussy – though familiar – is sublime; mixed with the feeling of Thor’s cum inside of you makes him want to cry from the overwhelming pleasure.

He doesn’t, though, he somehow gets his brain and cock to reconnect so that he can fuck you despite his entire body screaming. You’re sensitive – if Steve couldn’t read your body language, your screaming moans and eyes screwed shut would tell him. It’s a precious thing to see you in such a feral state, to see you fucked out and desperate and begging to be pushed over the cliff again and again and again. You’re normally a very professional woman – always put together and well-spoken and knowledgeable in any subject necessary. To see you incoherent, lost to the pleasure – it’s something special Steve is determined to remember for the rest of his days.

“Such a good boy,” Thor tells him when he notices Steve’s concentration fading. “You fuck your wife so well for me,” he turns to you, leaving a kiss at the corner of your panting mouth. “Doesn’t your husband fuck you so good?”

“Y-yes,” you reply after you take a second to process what he’s asking of you. “Steve’s so good at fucking a baby into me, makes me feel so good I, oh!”

Something in Steve snaps as he listens to Thor, elicits something primal that makes him dig his fingers into the pit of your pushed-up knees as he pounds into you without mercy.

“Gonna-“ Steve moans. “Gonna fuck our baby into you, gonna make sure everyone knows how good I fuck you, fuck!”

Thor just smiles all big and toothy, looking between your face and Steve’s. Just as confident as before, he trails the same hand as before between your breasts and down your stomach, rubbing at your sensitive nub once more.

“You can do it, baby,” he whispers to you, coaxing another orgasm out of you with skilled fingers. “You’re so beautiful, I want to watch you come again. You can do that, right? You can come again for me?”

You shake your head, too overwhelmed to form coherent sentences. “I, I- “

“Shh,” he trails his thumb – still soaked with your slick and his precum – “It’s okay, my little dove. You can do it once more for me and Steve. C’mon, you can do it with him, right?”

You don’t speak, don’t move, don’t do anything – too focused on the feeling of Thor next to you and Steve on top of you and Thor rubbing at your clit and Steve fucking your pussy and the warmed sheets between your fingers and the sweat pooling between your breasts and-

“Fuck!” Steve’s screams mirror your own internal monologue. “Fuck I’m-“

Thor uses the thumb that was just under your lip to grab Steve’s jaw, forcing their eyes to meet just as he had done many times before. “Come for me.”

You and Steve’s orgasms come at the same time, the both of you twitching as you fall slowly, deliriously, from the shared delicious high.

When the French coined folie a duex, you’d always assumed it was about some madness that happened to manifest in two people. But what is defined as “madness?” Could it be the sweet satisfaction that flows through each of your veins like gold? Could it be the vacant contentment behind Steve’s eyes? Could it be the vacant content behind yours?

Somehow, Thor maneuvers the two of you so that all three of you can lay there, out of breath and sweaty all over as each of you stares at separate spots on the ceiling.

You’re the one to break the silence, stuck between the two men in the center of the large bed. “Do you think it worked?”

Steve turns towards you, leaning on one arm while the other spreads itself over your stomach. “I think so.”

Thor turns over next, mirroring Steve’s position. Free hand, though, goes to cup your face, pulling you in for a quick peck on the lips before guiding you to Steve for a much deeper kiss.

“I think so, too,” the large man says eventually, watching as you and Steve remain locked together. He doesn’t think either of you can hear him, but he smiles at the softness on both of your faces nonetheless.

#steve rogers x reader #thor odinson x reader #steve rogers x thor odinson x reader #thundershield x reader #lukis does commissions #lukis writes stuff

323 notes · View notes

kj-1130 · 3 years

Text

HIRAETH

Chapter 6

Main Masterlist

At 19, Christine never expected to be where she currently was. Instead of spending her time at college parties or planning out her marriage (something her parents wished for her to do), she was attempting to run away.

She just wanted to do her own thing. She was tired of trying to fit everyone’s standard of who they wanted her to be. She was tired of considering everyone’s thoughts and feelings and opinions except her own.

Christine was just utterly exhausted.

There was only so much more she could take until she snapped.

At age 21, Christine began to make a name for herself.

At first, it was making street medicine. When people caught wind of what she was doing, many were crawling towards her, desperate to do her bidding and help themselves grow as well.

It was where she first started really. One person suggested the idea of making it a small gang and everything just seemed to grow from there.

The gang developed from street deals into the very beginnings of a whole cartel within just a year. With that ‘pre-cartel’ brought a lot of enemies and people who were envious of Christine’s success.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget how her first taste of revenge felt.

On October 31, 1996, someone thought it would be a good idea to try and sabotage her. Christine had been sabotaged one too many times whether that be self-sabotage or by a member of her previous community.

The fact that they thought they could trick her--that they thought she was so foolish. It made her angry. Absolutely livid.

The woman watched as her henchmen dragged in the scum by the shoulders and dropped him on the floor. She watched them kick him in his ribs. She heard each satisfying pop of his bones.

She watched as her right-hand men forced him to stand. And then, she watched him slit his throat with a kitchen knife.

Christine remembered tilting her head, watching the man bleed out. Then, she grinned.

Watching him suffer made her happy. What a great birthday that was.

It was December 31, 1998.

Christine had thrown a party for the New Year. Her place was filled to the brim with high-up partners and clients. Strobe lights flashed and the floor vibrated with the bass of the music.

She had just pushed one of her wing-women against the wall, nipping at her neck. It wasn’t uncommon for her and Adeen to mess around every once in a while. It was a great stress reliever in their opinion.

At the entrance, two bulky men stalked in, looking as if they were hunting for their next meal.

They searched the dance floor, trying to avoid the sweaty bodies and sky-high patrons who could barely stand on their two feet.

Just as Christine was placing her lips on the woman in front her, a tap reached her shoulder. The leader dropped her head down with a sigh, before turning around to face the men with an annoyed look.

“What?”

“We need you to come with us.”

After a moment’s consideration, she turned back around towards Adeen and tapped her cheek. She gestured towards her henchmen and leaned towards her ear.

“You know what to do,” Christine whispered.

Her wing-woman nodded in response and walked off, but not before giving the two men that interrupted their time together a dirty look.

The leader waltzed off of the floor and headed towards her private office without so much as a glance.

“What can I do for you, boys?”

“Bogomolov has a proposition.”

November, 2000

Christine watched as the other scientists strapped down the young boy to the metal slab they called a table.

The woman couldn’t care less about his little screams of terror or the thrashing of his limbs. She just hoped they wouldn’t have to sedate him because she had other ‘projects’ of hers that needed to be tested and not enough time in the day.

“What number is this?”

A gravelly voice spoke.

The scientist looked to her right and connected gazes with a tall man that had a dark and mysterious demeanour.

She looked back down at her tablet after assessing him with her eyes.

“I don’t care about who it is. I just need him to sit still so I can see if this stuff works or not.”

The man whistled lowly and raised his eyebrows in response.

“Feisty,” he muttered.

Dropping her arms to her side, Christine looked up at the stranger with an annoyed look on her face that she didn’t even bother trying to hide.

“I’m sorry. Did you need something?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head with a small smirk. “Just wanted to meet my new lab partner.”

“Excuse me, new what?”

January, 2003

If there was one thing Christine hated, it was James. They had been working together for almost three years now and she still couldn’t stand his cocky little attitude.

They had just been called Bogomolov’s office and walked on opposite sides of the hallway to get there (well more so Christine than James. He just found it all amusing.).

When the two arrived they were greeted with the older man and files.

“You two have an undercover mission.”

“Ah,” Christine interrupted. “I don’t do missions, especially not with him.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Dima responded, raising an eyebrow as if challenging her. The woman huffed and flopped back into her seat.

“As I was saying, I need you two to grab some intel for me.”

“May I ask where?”

The old gentlemen turned towards James with a blank face.

“Alaska.”

James looked at him in confusion.

“Now stop interrupting me. You’re going undercover as a couple. A party in Canada.”

“That’s quite vague,” Christine mumbled.

“You leave tomorrow.”

The two stood and made their way to the exit, one with a frown on their face, the other with a giddy smirk.

“Oh cheer up, princess. You get to spend some one-on-one time with me!”

“Yeah, that’s the part I’m dreading.”

February, 2003

She hated James. Hated him more than anything on the planet at the moment.

How dare he let her sleep with him while they were both drunk. I mean, yeah it was good but that doesn't mean she necessarily wished for it to happen!

Storming down the hall, Christine banged on his bedroom door. After a couple of seconds, the door swung open and the woman barged in.

“If I end up pregnant, it is all your fault!”

“Woah, woah, woah,” James exclaimed with his hands raised in mock surrender. “Cool it, princess.”

Deeply annoyed, Christine took in a deep breath to contain the urge to knock out his stupid, perfectly straight teeth.

“Wh-why did we do that?”

“Well you were all up over me, mama,” James said with a cocky grin. “I was just following your orders.”

The woman opened her mouth to reply but instead was fighting the urge to gag.

“I am too nauseated to continue this right now.”

Christine made her way to the man’s bathroom and hunched over the toilet.

“Fuck you, James!”

December 22, 2003

Christine screamed in agony as she was told to push another time.

“I’m going to chop your testicles off!”

“I’m sorry! What do you want me to do?”

“Just hold my hand.”

James held out the appendage and winced as the woman in labor latched onto it with a death grip.

It was five grueling hours that Christine had been in labor and she had only recently started pushing.

It was another hour until the woman held her baby for the first time.

As the newborn drifted off to sleep, the scientist looked up at James with a small smirk on her face.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

With an identical expression, the man locked eyes with her.

“You know I am.”

“So she was born into HYDRA,” Sam started. “That means there most likely won’t be many records of her existence.”

“Poor girl never stood a chance,” Natasha muttered, flipping through the few notes they were able to retrieve. “Says here, they were attempting to create connections with the deceased.”

“With everything we’ve experienced, I wouldn’t be surprised if they found a way,” Wanda stated, slumping back in her spot.

As everyone continued to look through box after box, Bucky sat in his seat trying to remember.

A lot of it was fuzzy, but thankfully there were a few breakthroughs.

He remembered hearing Karima and whoever W1498 was, having many conversations together. He remembered the countless times one tried to take the punishment for the other.

But the most prominent thing was when they talked about the voices.

Bucky can still faintly hear the whispers of Karima saying, ‘the voices are so loud,’ or ‘can you keep it quiet, Zee?’

“W-we never talked about why she was doing this,” he spoke up.

“Didn’t you say you were pretty sure these were revenge killings?”

Steve asked.

“Buck’s got a point,” Sam spoke. “I mean, if it was revenge, wouldn’t she have been at least a good halfway through the staff by now?”

They all sat back and thought.

“You did say she was talking to this ‘Zee’ person when she said she wanted to make them hurt like they hurt them, right?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah but we can’t ignore the part where she said it felt like her heart stopped,” the former winter soldier spoke.

“My thing is,” the red-head started. “Is that if these were revenge killings, why would she go after W1498’s handler? They probably rarely made any contact.”

Steve turned to face his friend who had his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

“Any more memories, Buck?”

“I remember Karima talking about voices and asking ‘Zee’ to make them stop.”

Rustling paper broke them out of their little huddle as they directed their attention towards the witch.

“Says here that W1498 got moved out of that base around Christmas of 2018.”

“Didn’t Fury start sending surveillance over there around January this year?” the captain spoke.

Wanda nodded in response and flipped through more documents.

“Last record of movement was said to be around February. Doesn’t say what happened to all of the people or why the base was suddenly abandoned.”

“So if our girl was close with W1498,” Tony started. “It coulda really pissed her off when they moved ‘em.”

“What if Karima’s looking for her?” Sam suggested suddenly. “I mean, you have W1498’s relocation which Karima would’ve suffered from. ‘Zee’ practically helped her with whatever ‘voices’ Bucky was talking about. They took the one good thing from her; it would make sense if she snapped.”

“That would explain why she went after their handler,” Natasha added. “She had no idea of her friend’s whereabouts ,the obvious choice would be to go to their handler and at least try to get some information.”

“What about the sudden abandonment of the base?”

“We don’t know the full extent of her powers,” Steve said. “We don’t even know how she killed the agent.”

The captain looked around at the few Avengers who were spread out across the common room as a pang of hurt stuck him.

He simply took a deep breath and stood.

“Let’s take a break. We’ll regroup either later today or tomorrow.”

With that, everyone left, ready to take advantage of the rare relaxation they had.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years

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Skin Deep ~ Part 4

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! As @that-one-person reminded me, we were overdue the next chapter of Skin Deep! I hope this has been worth the wait. As always, if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know! Also, requests are open and I love when you re-blog and like my work! Thanks for all your kindness!!

This is the 4th Part of our Story with links below to the previous chapters! ENJOY!

Skin Deep Part 1

Skin Deep Part 2 Skin Deep Part 3

Pairing; Loki x Reader, Steve x Reader, Bucky, Natasha, Nick Fury, Thor and Valkyrie round out of cast! Summary: Picking up where Part 3 ended: You’re on the run with Loki, who wants answers. Steve comes clean to an old friend, Natasha and Fury make a plan. Warnings: References to violence, smut, intergalactic travel, and some kissing!

From his vantage point at Steve’s grill Bucky noticed the almost frantic vibration coming off his oldest friend from all the way across the lawn. And Steve wasn't carrying any champagne. In fact, he was whispering furiously to Natasha, shaking his head.

Looking to the skies, Bucky smelled the electricity in the air. It made the hairs on his human arm rise, antenna to trouble, tuning into the wrecked wavelength his friend was putting out. It was about you, of that Bucky was certain, and with your own strange behavior tonight, he knew trouble was en route. He had let you sneak away, sensing your breaking point, knowing your need for a minute alone. It was the reason you were such great drinking buddies. You let Bucky be himself and he returned the favor. Besides, something in Steve was different these days, something Bucky didn't exactly like. His friend, Captain America, hero to the weak, was pushy. Aggressive. Angry.

And when Steve looked at you, there was a gleam, a spark of possessiveness that gave Bucky pause. Sure, you were amazing. Funny, smart, undeniably sexy in a way all your own. Bucky understood wanting you, he even got the need to have you, hold you, lock you down with a ring. If only Steve could see how unhappy you were. Each time Bucky saw you, the strain had pulled more of your joy away. Sure, you baked pies, smiling the whole way, chirping platitudes and teasing Steve. That happiness, though, it never reached your eyes. Telling Steve that an engagement ring was too much, too soon, Bucky had tried in his very stoic way to prove that you weren't ready. Never fully able to give his buddy his blessing, Bucky had opted instead to provide you a shoulder to lean on. And lean you did. Slugging back vodka shots at all these parties, in the quiet and seldom used spaces of kitchens and dining rooms, you had talked easily with Bucky. No topic was too wild or off limits, with the exception of Steve. Anytime the name of your new love came up, the subject would change. You'd deflect and Bucky let you. Maybe he should have pushed harder, he thought as Steve stomped his way. Maybe Bucky should have forced you to talk about whatever issues you and Steve faced, tried his hand at advice, or offered excuses for his best friend’s erratic behavior. If Bucky had done that, then perhaps the stifling stench of trouble wouldn't be pooling around the party, pulsing through all the high energy people gathered together. “Buck… come here, would ya?” Sure, Steve sounded like himself. Jovial, a little concerned in that serious way he had, but not mad. For some reason, it reminded Bucky of the way Steve’s father would talk, just before he’d beat the ever loving hell out of Sarah… or Steve. It soured the stomach of battle tested Sergeant Barnes. War was coming. “Sure thing, punk.” Cocking his head, Steve couldn’t quite look his friend in the face, opting instead to focus on the open back door of his farm house. Would you come strutting out of it, unaware and un-phased? Steve prayed for that, even if his gut told him otherwise, “Bucky, you said my girl was in the ladies’ room?” Tucking his hands in his pockets, nodding solemnly, “Yea, Stevie. Yea. She had to piss. It happens.” Waiting for the battle was exhausting and Bucky just didn’t have the patience to stew in the slow burn of Steve’s anger. Clapping a broad hand along the neck of the Winter Soldier, Steve pulled his friend close. To anyone looking, the embrace would seem brotherly, kind. What they couldn’t see was the tight grip used to keep Bucky contained, or hear Steve’s heated harsh whisper, “Where the fuck is she, Buck? I know you know. So tell me.” Reacting instinctively, pulling against the restraining hook of Steve’s palm, “I don’t know what you’re talking about… she went to the bathroom, I came out here.” “Well she’s gone now and so is Loki-” Stepping back out of Steve’s reach, “Wait. Loki was here? I thought you said he left. Opened the Bi-Frost or whatever. Disappeared.” Almost growling, Steve ran desperate hands through his blonde hair, ignoring Bucky and turning to Natasha, “We need to let Fury know. Set a perimeter. Loki won’t be able to get off the planet, not without help anyway.” “Fury’s involved? Steve, what is going on?” Jabbing a finger into the chest of his best friend, Steve spun, spitting, “You let Loki kidnap my fiance, that’s what’s going on! And now I have to find her and rescue her before that greasy alien asshole does something else to the woman I love!” Rearing back, Bucky inhaled, lifting his shoulders. If you have to fight a friend, fight fair, he thought. Already Bucky could read violence in Steve’s muscle movement. The graceful way Steve bounced on his toes to build momentum into his fierce throw was minute but effective. Dropping his right arm, just a touch before stepping into his swing, Steve's eyes screamed murder and they were locked onto James Buchanan Barnes. A swish of air brushed at Buck's dark hair as the blow missed. Bucky easily blocked the punch, grabbing his pal at the wrist and twisting until his chest was pressed into Steve’s back. It was as fluid as the ballet you had forced them to attend a few months back, quick and clean movements, executed flawlessly. Bucky felt Steve spin in his grasp, planting his feet, preparing to toss the Winter Soldier on his ass. His counter maneuver was a leg sweep, one Bucky was ready to use, when Steve went limp in his grip. Natasha had sucker punched her mission partner in order to get his attention, “Steve. You gotta relax. Bucky didn’t know and you’re drawing attention. Too many eyes around here, ya know?” Natasha waved to Tony, a gesture that said, no worries, everything is ok over here. It was enough to satisfy the playboy, who turned back to his cocktail and conversation with Rhodes. “I'm fine. It's fine. I’m just…” unable to find the right word, spiraling, Steve sagged towards the ground. Catching him at the waist Bucky steadied his woozy friend as Natasha brushed off help from the other guests. Returning to the pair of soldiers out of time, The Black Widow, barely containing her disgust, “Bucky, get him inside. Steve, I'm sending everyone home, then I’m going to make a call.” True to her word, Natasha whispered something to Tony and Pepper, Bucky clocking their reaction of concern for both you and Steve. It was very clear to the Sergeant that The Avengers were not in on this mission. None of them were permitted to hang around the farm house with Nat going so far as to walk out with Clint and Rhodes. Bustling Steve into the kitchen, Bucky kicked a chair free from the table, dropping his buddy on his ass. Still a little amped up from the almost altercation outside, Bucky decided to put a bit of distance between him and his childhood friend, resting his hip against the counter, "What the hell was that, Steve?" "Stay out of it, Bucky." "It's too late for that, punk. Either you start talking or we take this back outside." Side eyeing the super soldier with a metal arm, Steve tugged at the corner of a pretty place mat sullenly, "Fuck you." "Language!" "You think I give a shit about bad words? Now? No… things are too far gone." Waving his hand, begging for more, "Care to elaborate, Cap?" Steve had a second to consider his options. He could let Bucky in, tell him what was going on, hear his opinions on the situation at hand. Or… not. "You don't need to be involved. Once Nat gets back, it's best if you go." Thunking into the opposite seat, Bucky leveled his grey gaze on his pal, "And if I say no?" "Look, it's an off the record thing. Tony, the rest of them? They know nothing. I don’t need you sticking your nose in-" That was all it took for the dam of Bucky’s own outrage to burst. With a wood rattling slap to the custom built dining table, open palm connecting enough to make Steve jump, "Damn it, Rogers! My nose is in this already. Hell, you were ready to half kill me over this… over her, not fifteen minutes ago!" Sighing, hard and heavy, Captain America pressed back in the wooden chair. He saw the questions in Bucky's look, the need to unravel this mystery, the desire to find a way out for his friends. And Steve realized that to accept his buddy's help, Bucky would need the full story. The truth hurts and Buck's words stung Steve. Bucky was right and in the end, he reasoned, they might need him to help bring down Loki. After a second of consideration, a rough hand sliding through his blonde locks, "Fine. FUCK! Fine. What do you know?" Crossing his arms over his chest, stern voiced but curious, Bucky started, "Just you and Nat reporting to Fury? Small team." "Small mission. At least, at first." Trying not to give anything away, making Bucky work for it felt good, almost like a return to his life before Loki, before you. Tapping his metallic finger on the table, Bucky resumed his questions, "So, how does Loki figure into this?" Leaning forward, Steve lowered his voice, “Weapons tech. Power. More than when he attacked New York. He’s been off world gaining followers, an army, and a throne.” “So the plan was to keep Loki away, right?” Nodding, Steve’s inflection solemn, “By any means necessary.” Rocking his head back, as if slapped, Bucky’s eyes widened. Just the implication of those words, by any means necessary, used by Nick Fury meant that this mission was crossing a line from mundane into murderous. "And she was your way in." It started to take shape, the whole sorted plan, Natasha’s involvement and Steve’s role in it all. Bucky felt that prickly sensation again. Bowing his golden head, Steve shook it yes, "Only… I wasn't brought in… I… volunteered." "Ok, but why?" Inching closer to the truth, waiting out the Captain, Bucky nodded for him to continue. When Steve wasn't forthcoming, Bucky nudged his foot with a sharp kick, eager to accelerate the story. For a second that frantic, frenzied energy flashed through the room again, pulling on Bucky's sixth sense, "Because I wanted what Loki had… who Loki had. I wanted her, so bad Bucky. So bad." “Steve… come on, man. There are other girls out there-” Cutting his friend off with a shout, “Why should that asshole have her? He doesn’t deserve her. Before he left, she was always so sweet, so cute… then he… abandoned her! Left her! Man, that was… just so hard to see.” “Yea… I know. I mean, I remember when she and Loki were together. And I know his leaving was hard on her.” “Hard on her? She… she stopped eating, stopped sleeping. God, I could hear her crying all night. Know how hard it was to keep away? To know that Loki had forgotten her?” Steve kept talking, about you, about loving you, and the lengths he went to in an effort to court you. He followed up with all the ways you denied him, over and over, until Natasha intervened. That all of it played into Fury’s plan was a convenient cross-point, coincidence, until things had gone wrong this afternoon. Bucky let him tell his story, knowing full well it was merely a version, a fairy tale wrapped around the rotten apple of truth. In Steve’s world he was the hero, wronged by fate, Fury and Loki Odinson. His path had been paved with good intentions and pure hearted motives. It was everyone else who misunderstood, miscalculated and mistook his actions. Could Steve be blamed for that? Of course, this edition of Steve’s tale didn't include beating up a cuffed prisoner. It also omitted the fact that Steve had been pursuing you while actively lying about Loki's whereabouts. Glossing over the details allowed Steve to paint a picture highlighting the best of him, but Bucky had known the little punk a long time. During a long pause that found Steve with his head in his hands, Bucky took a deep breath and asked, “And how did you and Fury know what Loki was up to?” “He was sending mission reports weekly. Loki had been tasked with helping promote peace across the Nine Realms. That he gained so much was the tipping point. Fury felt like a return to Earth would be 2012 all over again, only this time… total annihilation.” Something was still nagging at Bucky, “Had Loki made any threats?” A guilty look passed over the face of Captain America and his normally solid voice wavered, “Not that I was told about.” “So, Fury...?” “Fury needed… no, that’s not right. He wanted to keep close tabs on Loki, monitor his return, his mood, his movements, if he ever came back.” “And since she was his lover, she was a potential point of contact… the entry point?” “A possible one.” “If you were dating her and Nat was posing as her friend, then you’d know if Loki reached out, spilling the details on his plans, and be able to head him off at the pass.” “Exactly!” Oddly proud, Steve was almost happy that he no longer carried the burden by himself. Sure, Natasha knew, had even engineered some of it, but having a friend on his side made Steve feel better. “But Loki didn’t do that? He surprised you today?” Blowing out a frustrated snort, “Natasha went to meet him at the base. Apparently, the high and mighty Prince expected to be greeted by Fury and his forgotten lover.” “That didn’t sit well with the God of Mischief?” “Nope. Somehow he froze Nat. Confined her, I don’t know… Anyway, he came here and…” Trailing off, Steve could still picture his lady’s body, your body bent under his own, your eyes pressed shut in ecstasy. How you ground against what looked like his own sculpted skin, moaning through an orgasm that appeared amazing, and left you with shaky legs. Going silent, Bucky didn’t push, not this time, but he did feel the moment Steve surrendered fully. His shoulders let go with a deep inhale, his voice sounding like that scrawny kid from Brooklyn after a bad scrape, "She loves him, man. And I fucked up. Loki’s got my girl and I don't have any way to find her or fight him." Tears? Sighs? This wasn't Steve. No, Captain America was an unstoppable, unflappable hero. Spinning out was Bucky's move, not Steve’s. Putting his fleshy hand on Steve’s shoulder, trying to console the broken man in front of him, "Come on, kid. There's always a way to win. It's what you and I have been doing for over a century." “Not this time, man.” "Why not? Did you come clean? That’s why she left, isn’t it? You told her what was going on and she went after Loki." Shame filled Steve’s heart, his cheeks burning, "I… I didn’t get the chance. She left here, but not alone." "She'll be back." Words, pathetic platitudes, were all Bucky could offer. He had seen you tonight, skittish and jumpy. He saw Steve’s reaction to your disappearance, angry and hurt. Bucky thought that a snowball in hell stood a better chance than you're returning. "Not happening. I lost it on her, Buck. Smashed up mom's dresser, yelled… It was like being outside myself, watching myself do and say these terrible things. And it wasn't her fault. Not really. I mean, yea, she fucked him but he was me, so-" "Whoa. Stop. Say that again?" Steeling himself to relieve this afternoon’s nightmare again, Steve swallowed hard, "Loki, you know how he can… shape shift? Well, he came here as me and I walked in on myself screwing my girl!" Bucky's eyebrows lifted, his full lips curling into a cockeyed grin, "Wait. You're telling me that you came home and saw yourself banging your future fiancé?" Pausing, catching Bucky barely holding back a smirk, "Yea… why?" And for some reason, after all the incredible things Steve had shared tonight, it was the idea of Steve catching himself balls deep in your naughty bits that made Bucky laugh. Once he started, Bucky couldn't control the mad giggles from overtaking him, much to Steve’s astonishment. But then Steve laughed, too, "I guess it is pretty funny, when you think about it." "I mean, your face must have been priceless!" Clutching his stomach as the laughter grew stronger, Bucky had tears running down his cheeks at the image Steve described. Sure, it was a horrible thing, but who could say that they watched themselves having sex like that without being in porno? It took them both a minute to calm down, with Steve settling enough to counter, "Shit, Buck! I was pissed! I probably looked crazy." "That I do believe. What did you say to her? Them?" Now his face flushed scarlet, burning with embarrassment. The lie was just easier to get out, "Um… I don't really remember. I know I surprised Loki and well, my girl fainted from being used by him. The shock of it not being me, ya know?" Bucky didn't buy it, but he let his friend sell the story anyway, "Must have been scary for her. And that's when you secured Loki in the locked shed? And set Nat as your watchdog?" "Yup." Unable to meet his friend’s stormy stare, knowing that it would undo him completely, Steve focused on the edge of the table, running his fingers back and forth along the rough wood. If this were an interrogation and Bucky were sitting across from a suspect and not his best friend, he’d have no problem beating the guilty man into submission. But Steve was his strongest connection to this world, this time, and it was hard to walk away from family, even if they didn’t deserve the benefit of your doubt. To that end, one thing still bothered Bucky, "Why not cancel the party, man?" "Because I still want to marry her." Pulling the small black box from his front pocket, Steve toyed with the thing, his vision of a future with you still so close to realized. Whistling at the size of the sparkly rock enshrined in white gold, "Fancy. What do you think your chances are? Think she'll say yes?" "My chances went down to zero the second Loki dropped down to Earth. As for her answer… Dunno. I… I hope so, but now…", Steve faded off, knowing there was little hope for your romantic reunion if he didn’t have a clear idea of where you were at the moment. "Now Loki’s back." "Right." “And they’re gone, together.” “Right.” “And Fury’s on his way.” Striding in on impossibly high heels, Natasha folded her arms over her chest, eyeing the two gossiping men in front of her. It was going to be a long night. --- Somehow you had made it to the treeline undetected, using the orchard as a shield, ducking behind trunks as you and Loki scrambled toward the edge of the property. You couldn't help looking over your shoulder, checking for pursuit, worrying that Steve or Natasha were going to find the pair of you. There was no possible way they would let you get away, not after today, not with Loki. It was a bit treacherous, though. There was only natural light to guide you through twisted branches and raised roots, so your progress was slower than you wanted, but Loki was with you. Even beaten and bruised, he radiated calm, a soothing balm for your frayed nerves. Something about that made this whole situation seem better, manageable. You were no longer alone, Loki was here, holding your hand, not directing you but consulting. "Pet… the roadway is up ahead. Stay here, tucked out of sight." Pulling your long lost lover close, a small kiss passed between you, a passionate promise to sit still. Stepping tentatively out onto the gravel filled shoulder, Loki surveyed the highway quickly. When he was satisfied that the coast was clear, Loki waved at you, motioning you forward. Striding confidently at your side, Loki stopped in the dead center of the yellow lines, his grounding arm around your waist. A car, low, black, expensive, came racing round the bend, barreling towards you. Tucking your chin to Loki's chest, you gripped him tight, readying for the car's impact. A roar of wind swirled around you, grabbing at your skirt, whipping around your legs. For a second you thought you'd been struck. Breathless, your lungs emptied. There was nothing solid under you, just the feeling of Loki and a current of warm air. Next, you felt the impact of hard earth under your feet, vibrating through your shins, then Loki's grip loosening a touch, "Ok, darling?" Peeking from under his arm you saw lights everywhere. A bar was to your left, filled with noisy drinkers, barely discernible from the traffic around you. Honking horns made you jump, "Where the hell are we?" "Cleveland. I can't yet take us off world. I'm still a bit weak, I'm afraid… but at least we have a bit of a head start on Rogers and Fury." People pushed past you on their way to dinner, chirping happily, not seeing you in their tunnel vision. Being anonymous was a nice change, welcome even, as your personal life had been lost to Steve's intergalactic presence. On the busy streets of Ohio no one took notice of the two well dressed people standing on the damp sidewalk. "Um, you changed?", no longer sporting his battle gear, Loki was dapper in a black suit with an ebony tie. Leaning closer you straightened it, not because it was crooked, but because you needed to feel it… him. The whole look was just shy of too much, but that was the space Loki filled best and honestly, looking at him made your heart swell. Loki was back, and yours. After more than two years, having him close again felt natural, easy. In so many ways, the opposite of your life with Steve. As if somehow sensing your tug into nostalgia, Loki knuckled your chin up, "Just keeping up with you, love." His nose brushed against your own, so weirdly intimate and innocent for a man who had slapped your ass red only hours ago. Resting his forehead to yours, you inhaled that magical combination of burning sparklers, broken in leather with just a hint of honeyed citrus, "God, I forgot how great you smell." "Hmm… dove, there is nothing on Asgard that smells or tastes as wonderful as you. Believe me. I looked." "Careful Loki… people will say we're in love." At your cheekiness, Loki claimed your lips, his hands sliding over the soft fabric of your dress. Clinging to him, unwilling to let go now that he had returned, you puffed out a pouty sigh as Loki withdrew. “Norns. You know how badly I want you again? I can barely think straight for wanting you.” Oblivious to everything around you, lost in the sweeping pools of Loki’s desire filled expression, you toyed with his collar, “We have a lot of catching up to do, for sure.” “I’d love to get reacquainted-” here he paused to lick over his full lower lip, hunger for you dripping from every word, “-but we are on the run from the Earth’s mightiest heroes.” Snickering, you rolled your eyes at the thought of the Avengers, hours away eating charcuterie in Steve’s backyard. Stepping back, you sighed, “You’re right. So, have you got a plan?” Hanging in the air, your sentence had just left your mouth, your tongue still savoring the syllables when a sizzling crack snapped next to your ear. Swinging you away, forcing you to the sidewalk, Loki spun in a blaze of green. Crouched over you, snarling, “Fury! Always a pleasure to see you.” Stepping from the blazing golden circle supplied by Dr. Strange, Fury crossed onto the Cleveland sidewalk from your now empty garden party, weapon trained on Loki’s broad chest. “Wish I could say the same, Loki. You know it’s time to end this. Let’s take our… deliberations back to the office. Talk about this man to man.” A barking laugh left your lover, “Man to man? I am a GOD! And you… you are pathetic. Your attempts to keep me off Earth, imprisoned, away from my woman have all failed.” “Where are you going to go? You can’t get off the planet without help. My help. And it’s yours, Loki, if-” “If I come quietly? Tail between my legs, submissive and compliant?” As the words left his mouth, you watched, focused on the way Loki was shifting closer to you. The long fingers of his right hand were visible, reaching back for you, a silent signal of his escape plan. Fed up and furious, Nick Fury’s voice was flat with frustration, “Loki. Enough. Let’s do this somewhere people aren’t.” “Oh, I don’t know, this seems as good a place as any!” Circling Loki, edging nearer, Fury tried reasoning, “Endangering civilians isn’t going to make things easier. You know that.” “You know, I’d love to talk about how you betrayed me. How you stonewalled my lady… how you put Captain America in my place, as if he could ever be worthy of her. But, I’m a little busy at the moment.” Snapping his fingers, you jumped to your feet, grabbing for Loki’s outstretched hand. The second your palm connected that feeling of floating overcame you once more. This time you were ready for the roar of traveling through space by Loki’s magic, the push of meeting the ground, the curl of Loki’s body against yours. Blinking, you opened your eyes on new scenery, the chill of a beautiful sea soaked morning breaking around you. Straightening the coat of his pristine suit, Loki smiled at you as his fingers wove between your own, “New Asgard. My brother’s realm, now ruled by Valkyrie, by his abdication. We need to find him. He has a lot to answer for.” --- "Just what in the hell happened? I thought I was very clear about avoiding this exact problem." Pacing, hands firmly on his leather belted waist, Nick Fury growled at the bent head of Steve Rogers. "Now Loki’s on the run, dragging your… Well, what is she exactly Captain? Girlfriend? Fiancé? Mark? along for the ride." At those harsh words, Steve started, ready to focus his own anguish somewhere, anywhere. Fury was as good a target as any, as far as Steve was concerned. Pushing off the paving stones, he was stalled from rising by Natasha's firm hand and quiet words, "We have an idea-" "I don't want ideas. Not from you two. What I want are answers, Romanoff, and I want them now." Sitting on the emptied bench of the picnic table, still covered with your pretty tablecloth and jars of peonies, Natasha sighed, "I didn't have time to alert Steve. Loki made it here first and… reconnected-" "Is that what we're calling it?" Snapping, Nick glared from his good eye, his last name never more appropriate. Exhaling deeply, Natasha Romanoff squared her shoulders, "Sir, Loki… manipulated the circumstances." "Just what in the hell does that mean?" All three available eyes locked onto Steve, “What it means, Fury-” lifting his golden head with a jaw clenched tight, “- what it means, is that the son of a bitch showed up here and had his way with my woman. “After Loki… took advantage of her, I had him. He was contained, here, in my shed. It was modified with the restraints Tony provided with Thor’s direction.” “And still, he got away?” Disbelief clouded every syllable from Fury. That his two top agents had failed and so badly, had the normally stoic director steaming. Standing now, Steve was almost chest to chest with the man who’d been pulling the strings of this entire operation. Natasha, watching closely, knowing that she would only be able to subdue one of them if it came to it, gently palmed the dagger concealed in her waist band. Steve thrust forward, brushing past Fury before facing him once more, “Yea, Nick. He did. He got away.” “Do you know how?” Fury’s fingers were curled around his pocket taser, just in case Captain America needed a jolt, reminding him of who was calling the shots here. It wouldn’t do much except give Nick a head start, but with the Captain looking so rough and so raw, the SHIELD director would take any advantage available. “We believe that… he was set free.” Natasha didn’t want to say the words. You had let Loki go, that much she knew to be true, and she supposed that it made some sort of sense. Steve had been right all along. You and Loki did have some cosmic connection that even time and distance couldn’t eliminate. Intervening for the sake of Fury’s mission and Steve’s pining heart, Natasha had no qualms about why she’d guided you into a relationship, in fact, she still believed that he was a better man for you than Loki. But no. No matter what Rogers did, you had never let go with him like you had with the younger son of Odin. Not that you complained. You had taken all of Natasha’s words of praise, her seemingly well intentioned advice, her flat out advocating for Steve in stride. Sure, your friendship suffered for it. Natasha, never having been one for close ties to anyone, had enjoyed the talking and gossiping. It was nice to have a girl around the tower. One who understood period cramps and cravings. A person who would put on high heels and makeup for a night of dancing then suggest hoodies and shorts for watching Pride and Prejudice. That was over now. When she had been, well, frankly, overpowered by Loki and his new paralyzing weaponry, Natasha knew the plan for a peaceful capture of the prince was over. Having seen the aftermath of your reunion with the space god, having seen Steve’s seething anger, the Black Widow felt her own ire spike. Didn’t you know how hard she had worked? How tireless her efforts had been to keep you and Loki apart? Just how invested she was in joining you and Steve together? It was like you wanted to throw all of that away, squandering those bonding moments where you had become something more than a mission, those times when you were Natasha’s only real friend. Couldn’t you just go along with the plan, unknowing, quietly? She knew you couldn’t, wouldn’t. It wasn’t in your nature. So, channeling that frustration into the cold facade that so many had seen just before they met their end, Natasha had to compartmentalize the “you” she cared about away from the “you” she was responsible for trailing. Both had pissed her off. Now, hearing the gruff grumble of Director Fury bearing down on her, Natasha could only accept the berating tone of his hard words. He wasn’t wrong. She and Steve had fucked up royally, the whole mission was blown, and while Bucky had certainly aided in your escape, he was blameless collateral damage. The consequences fell to you and the Captain. Killing you was going to be hard for them both, but if it had to be done, so be it. Shrugging, Natasha started again, “Nick, we have a tracker on her. We know that she and Loki made it to Cleveland, but he can’t get away from Earth without some aid.” “Well, that’s good to know, if only it was some new intelligence. You’re tracking her? Great! Where is she now? Don't know huh? Well, she and Loki tele-ported from a city sidewalk, in front of me and hundreds of civilians, with no word on their next destination. “And make no mistake. Loki will find a way off of this planet and when that happens, there’ll be nothing else we can do.” “So what? Let him go! He’s won, Nick. It’s over.” Throwing himself down onto the bench, Steve’s dejected voice breaking, he slumped over his feet. “That’s not an option Cap. Loki is more powerful now than he’s ever been. You both read the reports. He wasn’t just hanging around on Asgard. No, Loki was negotiating peace between his native realm of Jotunheim and his adoptive home. He was gifted with tools and technology that no human could hope to wield. Earth ending stuff, Captain.” “Whatever plans you had of making peace are over now. There’s no way Loki gives us any help… and why would he after all this?” “Rogers, I’ll do whatever I must to keep this planet and the creatures on it safe. Loki is a threat to that, just by existing. With his new powers, high placed connections and intergalactic royal title, he had the potential to be unstoppable.” Seething breath puffed out the chests of the two men standing toe to toe. Machismo made Natasha want to vomit. Men. “Look, I’ll go after them. Steve, stay here, in case she reaches out. I’ll take the quinjet and trace their path.” Standing now herself, Natasha turned to the depressed super soldier, patting his arm, “Bucky’s still here. I’ll let you know when I’ve found anything.” “No. Nat, I can’t let you go alone. It’s my fault, too.” “You’re no good to me like this, Rogers.” “But, She’s-” Cutting him off, Natasha stepped closer to Nick, “I know, but you’re too involved. If tough choices need to be made, can you?” Gulping hard, passing a rough hand over his face, Steve frowned, “I can do my duty, if that’s what you’re asking.” “Steve.” Her tone said it all the words she wouldn't vocalize. I don’t trust you, not now, not like this. I don’t believe you will have my back at the cost of the woman you claim to love. I don’t think you can do the job. Fury didn't allow her the chance to elaborate, jumping in with his definitive voice, “Natasha’s right, Rogers. You’re staying right where you are, on the bench. Romanoff and I are going to resolve this issue without any further problems.” Half hearted, strength sapped, Steve raised his eyes to the leather clad figures before him, “Please. Please, Nick… Nat. Don’t hurt her.” “I promise, Steve. I won’t.” And in the second, all three knew she was lying.

--- Finding Thor’s shanty was easier than you expected. A friendly fisherman was only too happy to point you in the right direction. What you saw upon arrival was not entirely what you had expected when visiting Loki’s brother. It was a beat up looking cottage, surrounded by empty cases of cheap Midgardian beer, crumpled take out containers, and a collection of well fed seagulls situated near the edge of the village, “Ugh. What a pig.” “Loki! It’s… charming?” Your admonishing whisper turned the statement into a question at the sight of Loki’s disgusted face. For a second you just stood at Loki’s side, staring at the weather beaten front door, your hand clasped in his strong one. “It’s disgusting.” Agreeing with a small nod, “Um, yes. Yes, it is. But, this is your brother’s house and you said we needed to talk to him. Step one is ringing his bell.” “No. I won’t do it.” You had forgotten about this side of Loki. Fastidious, precise and obstinate, Loki could cop an attitude that had the ability to drive someone crazy. Someone like you. Over the last two years it had been easy to forget all the little things that made Loki prickly. It was even easier to forgive him. Since he’d left, you had looked at your life together through rose glasses, through a gentle fog of missing him, and those elements of your relationship that were less than perfect had been abandoned. Now, standing outside the hovel that Thor called a home, as a fresh day dawned over New Asgard, you were reminded of all those imperfect things that came with loving Loki. A wave of need, love, and longing for him rolled over you. All of those imperfections made you perfect for each other. Rising up on your toes you pressed a small kiss to Loki’s pout, taking the tall God by surprise, “What was that for?” Shyly grinning, you bit into your bottom lip, “I missed you… missed kissing you.” “Then perhaps you should come over here again?” That was all the invitation you needed. Stepping into Loki’s space, your chest resting against his own, you savored the nearness of him, as himself. He wasn’t playing at being Steve. Loki was here, he was with you, and if you weren’t mistaken his hands were drifting down your backside. The rush of it, well, it was familiar and new at the same time. How Loki seemed to inhale your breath, inhale you, as his mouth opened to accept your lips. His gentle exhale, a moan, as his tongue licked over your own. It was overwhelming. It was wonderful. Stepping back, you started to pull away, only for Loki to wrap his arms around your waist, “Not so fast, darling.” Losing yourself, you focused solely on the firmness of his body, the weight of his hands on your hips, the intensity of Loki’s desire. Intoxicating, heady, you leaned into those feelings. Kissing Loki back, you tangled his hair in your hand, earning another one of those sultry sounds that made your legs weak. How had you lived without the passion and pleasure he provided for so long? A smashing crash broke the quiet morning causing you to jump in Loki’s embrace, “What the hell was that?” Immediately on the defense, Loki pushed you behind him, crouching into a protective stance. From over his broad shoulder you watched, worried about the new danger coming your way, unsure how to help your reactive lover. Another rattle had Loki palming his dagger, anticipating an attack. That’s when a raccoon, bigger than your childhood terrier, scuttled from under an overturned trash can carrying what looked like a half eaten slice of pizza in its mouth. “Appalling! Mother would be modified!” Loki cursed as he offered you his hand, kicking away an empty glass bottle, "Why is he living like a dirty animal, surrounded by trash? One would think they were back on Sakaar!" “I don’t know what’s going on with Thor, but we came here for a reason. Let’s get it over with, ok?” Loki shook his head, refusing to step any closer, “He’ll have to come out here. I won’t go inside this… dilapidated shit box.” Sighing, “Fine. Fine, I’ll do it.” Stepping around a pile of broken electronics, you carefully picked your way to the front door, gracefully knocking on the splintering wood. After an answerless few seconds, you tried again, rapping lightly with your knuckles before turning to flash Loki a small smile. That’s when you noticed the striking woman striding towards you and your returned lover. “My, my… is that pretty Prince Loki I see?” Even her voice was sexy, you thought, as the sarcastic words dripped from her full lips. The swaggering stranger radiated cool, calm, sensual energy. Otherworldly energy that made you feel mortal and boring. You couldn’t help tugging your skirt straight and fluffing your hair as she got closer. “Ah… Valkyrie! How are you?” Hugging her tightly when she opened her arms, Loki found that he was genuinely happy to see the fierce, battle tested warrior. Smirking at your man, she countered, “That’s King Valkyrie to you. Your brother crowned me, or have you forgotten?” “On the contrary. It seems like he finally realized what I’ve known all our lives.” “Which is what, exactly?” “He’s not fit to be the ruler of Asgard, obviously.” Drawing right up to Loki, hands on her hips, Valkyrie leveled her dark eyes at his, “What would you know about ruling, Mischief?” “Enough to know that you’re good at it. Enough to know that I no longer want to be the King of Asgard.” “Is that so? And what’s changed your mind?” At those skeptical words, Loki wound an arm around your waist, tugging you close, “I’ve got more… important concerns these days.” Looking you over with her shrewd, searching gaze, but speaking to Loki, “And she likes you? Are you sure?” Laughing, the sound deep and rich, “As much as you like fighting and drinking.” “I hardly drink anymore. As King I have mead only on important occasions, I have to keep my wits about me the rest of the time.” Sharing a laugh, the two shared another small hug before Valkyrie turned to you directly, “Alright. Who’s this then?” Loki started to respond but you cut him off, extending a hard towards the newly crowned King of Asgard, “Uh, I can answer for myself, thank you, Loki. Valkyrie is it? Nice to meet you. And, yes, I love Loki.” Making a face that was part disgust, part pride, Valkyrie smirked, “Love? Oh no. Hasn’t anyone told you yet? Loving the Odinson boys is hard on a girl.” Pulling Loki in for a small kiss, taking him by surprise, “I’ll take my chances.” Shrugging nonchalantly, “Suit yourself.” Focusing on Loki once more, Valkyrie shifted on her feet, “Listen, if you’re looking for Thor, he’s not here.” “Oh? And where exactly is the lovable oaf?” Hitching a thumb over her shoulder, pointing up the hill, “At the palace… the new palace, that is. You can come and, please, don’t forget your girlfriend.” Falling in line behind the King, Loki couldn’t help but add, “You know Val, I think I liked you better when you were drunk.” Snorting in response, “And I know I liked you better when I was drunk, weird right?” Bringing up the rear, your own sarcastic comment dying on your throat when the Palace of New Asgard came into view. Banners of gold shimmered in the light of the rising sun, flapping in the breeze of the young morning, beckoning you closer. You hugged Loki’s arm tighter, excited and exhilarated by the sight before you. “Home is a people, not a place. Those were some of my father’s last words to Thor and I… and while I can never take you to the place where I grew up, this… this is the home of my people.” “Loki… it’s beautiful!” Valkyrie, stopping so you could both catch up, “It’s getting there. Thor’s been a huge help. Come on, let's show you around the palace and let your brother know you’re here.” ---To Be Continued!

My minxes: @sammy-jo1977 @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki smut #loki multipart #MCU fanfiction #mcu x reader #mcu x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes #valkyrie #thor

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imjustthemechanic · 3 years

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The Price of a Soul

Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance Part 19/? - Nome Part 20/? - The Future Part 21/? - A Hero’s Welcome Part 22/? - Up to Speed Part 23/? - Expect Further Delays Part 24/? - The Welcome Wagon Part 25/? - Fugitives Part 26/? - A Reluctant Accomplice

Agent Russel probably doesn’t deserve this. Probably.

The next day, when Agent Russel showed up for his tuna melt, it was served to him by a woman in the same uniform any of the other waitresses wore. As she set the plate in front of him, another came to refill his coffee cup.

“Thanks, ladies,” he murmured, raising the cup to his lips.

“Don’t mention it,” said Peggy.

Agent Russel looked up with a start. His brown eyes darted from Peggy to Kay and then back again, and his expression suggested he was seriously considering screaming. Peggy sat down across from him at his booth, and Kay took the seat next to him, blocking his escape.

“Not a sound,” said Peggy.

Something under the table went click, sounding suspiciously like a gun being cocked. Kay, her hands invisible, gave Agent Russel a dazzling smile.

“So you two are working together,” Russel said.

“Don’t look so nervous, Ned,” said Kay. “You’re flirting with two waitresses at once. You should be a happy man.”

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Your help,” Peggy replied.

“Why would I want to help you?”

“Because we’re the ones who found Captain America,” said Peggy. “Doesn’t that suggest we’re the good guys?”

“I don’t know who are the good guys in this,” Russel admitted. “Last time I saw you,” he pointed at Peggy, “you were going home in protest because Thompson was working with her,” his finger moved to Kay, “and she drugged and robbed me.”

“I apologized,” said Kay.

“Now suddenly you’re on the same side?”

“Kay persuaded me that we always have been,” Peggy said, though that still wasn’t totally true. “Remember those numbers I mentioned she gave me? Those were the key to the Captain’s location. Kay is not a spy, she’s a defector. She has information for us, and she thinks she knows how to get more out of Olga Barynova.”

Russel nodded slowly, although his expression remained skeptical. “And where does she come into this? Because she says you let her out of prison and flew her to Los Angeles yourself.”

“Did she say why?” asked Peggy.

“We haven’t been able to get that out of her,” Russel said.

Peggy laced her fingers together in front of her. “I’m afraid it’s true that I let Miss Underwood out of her cell,” she said, “but I did so with every intention of returning her to it, and because I needed a service I felt only she could provide. I’m sure you’ve heard of Whitney Frost?”

“Yes…” said Russel slowly. “She’s that actress who went nuts and murdered her husband, right?”

“There’s a bit more to the story than that.” Peggy leaned in a bit closer. “Let me explain. You can check what I say with Daniel Sousa and Edwin Jarvis, and they will tell you the same.”

Russel looked around, and then opened his briefcase to get a notebook. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

Peggy tried to be as quick as she could in describing the situation, but it was not a simple one and it took a while. They probably went on significantly beyond the break two waitresses would have gotten, but it was essential that Russel get details he could confirm if he liked. In particular she described how they’d dressed Dottie for the mission, how Mr. Jarvis had observed that she was an excellent dancer, and what they’d been able to learn as a result.

“Unfortunately, Miss Underwood is better than you are from escaping the trunks of cars,” Peggy finished, “and we haven’t seen her since.”

“Uh-huh,” said Russel. “If any of that is true… well, freeing her was still a stupid thing to do.”

“Yes, it was,” Peggy said, “and I regret it every time I hear she’s committed another robbery or ended another life. However,” she gestured to her companion. “Kay thinks she knows what Dottie’s trying to accomplish, and if she’s correct we can get good information from her. We obviously can’t get in to talk to her because, as you already noted, we’re supposed to be in jail with her. But you can.”

Russel frowned, thinking. “What are you two up to?” he asked. “What are you trying to do?”

“Make the future a little better than it’s stacking up to be,” said Kay.

“If we can find out where Dottie and her ilk came from, we can shut them down and make sure we don’t see any more like her,” Peggy said. “And possibly free American prisoners of war, as well.”

“What would you need me to do?” Russel asked.

“For now just deliver a message and bring back her reply,” said Peggy. “Kay has a page written up. She’ll give you a translation if you want it.”

Kay took the paper out. “If you do this for us, not only will you be potentially saving lives, but I will personally go see your wife and tell her you were supposed to be investigating me and that’s the only reason you had a drink with me, and try to convince her to take you back. I can’t promise miracles,” she added, “but I’ll do my best and my best is pretty damned good.” She offered him the page.

He made no move to take it. Instead he just sat there, apparently lost in thought.

“Agent Russel,” Peggy said, “what was your first impression of me?”

“Of you?” He looked her over. “That you were very, very… devoted… to getting your job done. But my first impression of her,” Russel looked at Kay, “was that she was harmless and flighty, so I’m not sure I trust those anymore. Can I have twenty-four hours to think it over?”

Peggy didn’t want to give it to him. Twenty-four hours was time to think, but it was also time to tell Thompson and Masters they’d been here. Could they afford that? Twenty-four hours from now, Steve would have left New York on the beginning of the publicity tour Masters had put together. If he still wanted to rescue his friend from captivity in Russia, were they going to have to chase him across the country in order to give him their information?

“Can I have your word you won’t go straight to the police?” she asked.

“I am the police,” Russel reminded her, “but yes. I think there’s more going on here than you can see on the surface, but I don’t know which side of it you two are on… especially when you’re pointing a gun at me under the table.”

Kay smiled at him and brought her other hand up to show him a bolt mechanism from a disassembled doorknob, which she’d used to make the metallic click.

“Well,” Peggy said in an American accent. “We’d better get back to our shift. See you tomorrow, Mr. Russel. Same time, same place.”

They spent a second restless night in the Pine Barrens. Kay busied herself with some knitting needles and yarn she’d bought in the town, producing some intricate-looking lacy thing Peggy couldn’t begin to identify. Her thoughts were a mystery.

Peggy herself spent the time thinking about what they were going to do if this didn’t work. It seemed to her that they’d have to find Steve, but she really didn’t want him to get involved in this mess. Daniel was in it with her whether she liked it or not, as was Mr. Jarvis, but she would have liked to keep Steve safe.

That was a strange thought, wasn’t it? Steve had always been able to take care of himself, even when he’d been only five foot four, yet Peggy’s urge was to protect him. Was that one of those ‘motherly instincts’ men insisted all women had, or was it just that Peggy wanted to keep everybody she loved safe? She’d failed with Michael. There was a part of her that still thought, no matter how irrational she knew it was, that if she’d only joined the spy corps earlier he would still be alive. Was she trying to make up for that?

What would happen if she just disappeared?

She’d wondered that from time to time, like when Anna Jarvis had been shot… wouldn’t the people she loved be safer if Peggy weren’t around? Without her, Daniel and Mr. Jarvis wouldn’t be in trouble right now. She was the one who’d involved them in the situation with Dottie. The problem with that thought was that the trouble had already come to them. If she were to vanish, they would still end up in prison or worse on the strength of Dottie’s testimony, or perhaps have their fates dangled like carrots to encourage Peggy to return. She couldn’t stand for that. She’d gotten them in trouble, she had to get them out of it.

Which meant she’d better come up with a backup plan in case Russel wouldn’t help.

They scoped out the Automat very carefully before returning the next day, making sure there were no suspicious fellows hanging around watching who came and went. Peggy saw none, and Kay agreed with her. They went inside and changed into Angie’s spare uniforms, Kay putting a few safety pins in hers so it would look like it fit. When Agent Russel arrived, they took him his usual and sat down across from him. This time, they did not bother with sound effects.

“I didn’t talk to the police,” he said. “But I felt like I had to talk to somebody… so I talked to Captain America.”

Peggy’s heart started beating a little faster. “How on Earth did you manage that?” she asked. Steve and Masters had left New York early that morning. They’d heard it on their car radio.

“I told Jack I wanted to meet him in person because he’s always been a hero of mine, Jack talked to Masters, and Masters let me in,” Russel explained.

“Wow. I’m momentarily glad I didn’t kill him yet,” said Kay.

“Please stop that,” Peggy told her.

“If you want something fun to do on your weekends,” Kay said to Russel, “take a look at what Vernon Masters was up to around… oh, 1943-ish.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” Peggy asked her. A foolish question, really… Kay always knew something nobody else did, or at least, she acted that way.

“In this case, no,” Kay replied, “but I have strong suspicions.”

Peggy shook her head and brought things back to Russel. “What did he say? Steve, I mean.”

“Well, he told me to call him Steve,” Russel said, “which was a little like meeting one of your schoolteachers as an adult and having him tell you to call him by his name. I told him what you were asking me to do, and… he said he doesn’t know about Miss Lake, himself, but he trusts Peggy Carter with his life and I should do what she asks. He seemed pretty sure you know what you’re doing.”

Peggy had to chuckle at that. “He has such faith in me,” she said. Of course, she had faith in Steve, too… he’d always done the most recklessly foolish things imaginable, but he’d always managed to make them work in spite of everything. “Thank you, Agent Russel.”

“I still don’t know what’s going on here,” Russel admitted, “but I don’t think Captain America would involve himself with traitors. I read the file the FBI gave me about you, and I remember thinking there must have been some kind of mistake. That was my instinct from the beginning.” He glanced at Kay… the woman who’d given him cause to doubt his instincts. “What’s this message?”

Kay unfolded it and handed it over – a page of pseudo-Cyrillic accomplished with an ordinary English typewriter and going over some of the letters two or three times. “I think I know what she wants. She’s amassing money and blackmail material. She’s going after the mob now because she wants to force a diplomat with criminal connections to smuggle her back into the USSR. If she tries to go there legitimately, or even secretly but without protection, she’ll be shot. She needs to enter the country unnoticed, and then she’s going after the people who made her.”

“For what? Revenge?” asked Russel.

“Exactly.”

“And you’re going to let her do it?” he guessed.

“On her own she can’t,” said Kay. “She’ll never get that far, or she’ll be caught, and she’ll just disappear from history. But if I’m right, it gives us a bargaining chip.”

“I see.” Russel tucked the message inside his jacket. “I’ll deliver it this afternoon, and if she gives me a reply, I’ll pass it on tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Agent Russel,” Peggy repeated.

They left him to his lunch then, and returned to their stolen car to go back into hiding. Kay still hadn’t broken her habit of checking for seat belts when she got in.

Halfway through New Jersey, she suddenly asked Peggy, “have you see Frankenstein? That was made in the thirties, wasn’t it? Or read the book?”

“I haven’t,” Peggy replied. “I’m not one for the cinema, and the very idea of the book put me off.” As a child she simply hadn’t liked horror stories, and as an adult she’d seen far too many of them in real life to enjoy them in fiction.

“I have,” said Kay. “Several more versions, too, and most of them miss the point. The creature couldn’t help being what he was. The monster was the man who created him.” She sighed. “Everyone treated the creature as a monster, until he decided that was the only thing he could be.”

“Do you believe that of yourself?” Peggy asked.

“I think Barynova might,” Kay replied.

#fanfic #agent carter #captain america #peggy carter #steve rogers #steggy #fix it fic

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egoludes · 4 years

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since you’re such a good writer, you seem like you’d have taste haha!! what bucky or Steve fanfics do you recommend for a good read?? thank you!!

honestly i love spreading the wealth and promoting authors / pieces i love so this got long-winded – i hope you find something in here that you enjoy! please come back if you do because i’d love to hear what you thought! and thank you so, so much for enjoying my writing, you are a blessing 💞

screaming about some faves below the cut!

before we get into specific pieces, i would hit up any of the following folks for incredible reads. a few of them are recent follows so i haven’t read too much, but i’m blown away so far: @tropicalcap, @sunlightdances, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan, @whistlingwillows, @wkemeup, @honeyloverogers, @all1e23, @heli0s-writes, @gagmebucky, @cake-writes, @venusbarnes, @brooklyn-boy, @cptnbvcks,@dirtychocolatechai, @barnesrogersvstheworld, @evanstarff, @floatingpetals, @shotsbyshae, @justreadingfics, @heartopen-testify, @moonstruckbucky, @interestedbystanderwrites, @captain-kelli, @bitsandbobsandstuff, @feminarrie, @shreddedparchment, @captain-rogers-beard, @et-lesailes, @sunriserose1023, @notyetneedcoffee, and @invisibleanonymousmonsters.

now, for actual fics! disclaimer that some of these are from writers who tread into darker / grittier territories in their full masterlist. this obviously isn’t everyone’s cup of tea so, please keep that in mind if you decide to explore beyond what i’ve linked (i don’t read anything violent/noncon, so no need to worry about that here). heed warnings, and only read what you want to!

slow like honey by @heli0s-writes - any and everything helios writes is top tier, but slow like honey was the first fic by them i read and it was such an experience. like truly an experience. i felt that fic from start to finish; every emotion was captured beautifully, every point in the plot from the first date to the heartache to the reconciliation fit together so well. i think if you start anywhere on their masterlist, that is the perfect spot. honorable mention though? mystery of love - steve and bucky are such distinct, but cohesive soulmates in this fic and it is such a joy reading the journey of their falling in love. and it is still one of the best fics i’ve read probably ever.

never let you go by @bitsandbobsandstuff: all i can say for this one? get ready to ache. it is such a beautiful portrayal of loss, grief, and the absolute desperation that can come out of losing someone you love. what i really love about this fic is the very, very raw look we get at bucky and steve because of reader’s death – our super soldiers are so ordinary, so human here and it hurts. it resonates. they’re just as broken as anyone else would be and it just leads to some really great spooky consequences. also love me an appearance from the winchester boys!

looking for a heartbeat by @justreadingfics: this is a recent read, but god is it intense. i, for one, love exes back to lovers fics, especially when there is some real focus on unpacking the reasons things didn’t work out. throw in attempts to move on, some well-written action, and the struggle not to fall back in all over again? i’m completely sold. the fic was recently completed, too, so it’s a good option for a binge!

parabellum by @whistlingwillows: there isn’t much i can say about this one without ruining the plot, but god it is so worth it. beautifully written with twists and turns in ways i never expected – hydra!steve is always going to hurt, but this just took it to another level. easily a top ten fic rec every single time.

ingenue by @until-we-fall-in-love: listen - mafia aus deserve hella rights and this one is just written so beautifully, both from a historical and characterization perspective. the tension between reader, steve, and bucky is damn near palpable and the whole thing is just so easy to envision - like an episode of peaky blinders unfolding in writing. there is also some appearances from other beloved characters like sam, which makes it all the more fun.

compromise by @cake-writes: i don’t think i can explain how much i love this one better than my original tags about it, so we’ll just leave it at that, heh.

literally anything by @brooklyn-boy - honestly, i don’t think i have enough words to do aura’s writing justice, so let’s just go with this: three of my all-time favorite steve fics – wanderlust; sugar, sugar; and twenty/twenty – all came from her and the list just continues to grow. the impact. the power. the talent. her characterizations of steve is my favorite and i always just want to melt into them when i read her fics. another major reason to show love? she’s moved towards writing woc!readers exclusively, and that representation is so important. love that for us!

hungry like the wolf by @imanuglywombat: i’m a big sucker for werewolf aus, and this one is written so deliciously. it’s only at two parts now, but i’m so intrigued to see how the reader progresses not just as steve’s mate, but also as someone only just now realizing she’s a wolf at all. i think the newness of it makes it a fascinating, fun read and a fresh take on the au so i can’t wait to see where it goes.

tapestry by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor - a darker fic, this one just full of intricate plot, characters, relationships, and build-up. it’s a really well-written look at the ugly side of royalty, particularly a very thirsty greedy king and roo portrays the politics of this situation so well. that ended up being the key reason i read it in the first place too – the drama and push and pull between reader and the court is so intriguing, it’s hard to stop.

push and shove by @tropicalcap - oof. toes fucked me up enough, so to get a whole series out of it was a doozy. just a very realistic show of the way emotions and relationships ebb, flow, and cool. i think it can be hard reading fic that doesn’t have a happy ending, but honestly it’s real and as valid as any perfect ending. and i love the progression this had, it was cathartic in a lot of ways and so artfully written.

astrophile by @all1e23 - we opened this with a single dad!steve au, so it feels only right to close it with single dad!bucky. this fic is so CUTE and the will-they, won’t-they vibe between bucky and reader that builds from chapter to chapter watching them fall in love was as heartwarming as it was painful. one thing i particularly loved about this one, though, is the care that went into build ori and reader’s r/s as much as bucky and reader’s. by the end of it, you end up so attached to everyone in bucky’s found family and that’s the best thing a fic can do, i think. make the people in it real.

there are tons more incredible fics out there and i’m realizing i have not done a good job of reblogging them as i thought, so i’m also going to link my fic rec tags for future reference - i’ll be beefing it up with all the things i’ve read on mobile recently without getting a chance to reblog! so, feel free to keep checking back for more :) folks can also submit their faves and i’ll post!

steve fic recs

bucky fic recs

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sr fic rec.#bb fic rec.#buckywritez #we love our local content creators!!

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sineala · 4 years

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Captain America Corps

[This is a repost from my Patreon.] An extra review for everyone this month! I wasn't actually planning to write a review of Captain America Corps, but, then, I wasn't planning to love it as much as I did, either. Surprise! This has been the Book Club selection on the 616 Steve/Tony Discord server for the entirety of September, and it took me all month to get around to reading it, and when I finished reading it on Marvel Unlimited I immediately ran to the internet and ordered myself a copy of the trade paperback, because I needed one of my very own to cuddle. This review contains spoilers for the entirety of the series, so leave now if you don't want to know them. (It also contains a few pictures of elements that you may wish to avoid if you are sensitive to body horror in fiction.)

Captain America Corps is a five-issue miniseries written by Roger Stern, whom you may remember from such classics as his Avengers run featuring the Under Siege arc and his short but extremely memorable Cap run with John Byrne. The art here is by Phillipe Briones, who I don't think I've seen in any other book, but it's nice enough, I suppose. Anyway, it was published in 2011 and is also set then (well, sort of) -- so Bucky is still Captain America (though not for much longer) and Steve is Commander Rogers. (It is still available in trade paperback but it is technically out of print, so you should act now if you want a paper copy.) The best way I can describe my feelings about this book is thus: you know how David Michelinie's 1979 Avengers novel I read and reviewed a few months ago, The Man Who Stole Tomorrow, had an amazing premise -- Kang the Conqueror freezes Steve again and takes him to the future and the Avengers have to go time-traveling to get him back -- but it completely flubbed the actual execution of said premise? Well, Captain America Corps is a lot like that, but it absolutely, perfectly nails it. The premise isn't exactly the same, but it is definitely Peak Comics in the best zany madcap way, and the more you know about canon, the more your familiarity will be rewarded. Captain America is being kidnapped. But not just one Captain America -- Captains America across the multiverse are being stolen, and history is changing around their disappearances. A cosmic entity by the name of Tath Ki has made it his business to right these wrongs, and so to do this he kidnaps some more Captains America of his own. He ends up with a team of five: the Captain America of 1941 (Steve Rogers), USAgent (John Walker, from a small but unspecified number of years prior to 2011), the Captain America of 2011 (Bucky Barnes), American Dream (Shannon Carter, from the MC2 universe), and Commander A (Kiyoshi Morales, from several centuries in the future). So you can see already that this is going to be fun. All the Caps, in my opinion, are very well-characterized -- Steve is painfully earnest and a little inexperienced; Bucky is cynical, jaded, and he kind of can't believe that 40s Steve is looking up to him, which is really sweet; and John Walker is, of course, a complete asshole. I wanted to punch him in his stupid face multiple times, so clearly his characterization is perfect. I can't speak to Shannon's characterization because I've never read MC2, and Kiyoshi is new as of this book, but he is also excellent. So, obviously, because this is a Captain America book, there is a terrible dystopian future for them to fight -- and to show them what's at stake, Tath Ki drops them right in the middle of Dystopian Times Square, and they all get rounded up and imprisoned, whereupon they promptly stage a prison break for the various superheroes (Sam Wilson, Luke Cage, Peter Parker...) that they meet, before Tath Ki brings them back to his home base talk about it, now that he's convinced them that this is a future they have to stop.

(The law enforcement of the dystopian future includes several Americops and the Ameridroid. Remember those guys from the Cap comics? I sure do! Whee!) Tath Ki explains the situation here on this Earth, because obviously there has been some divergence. And the divergence point is this: the Avengers never found Captain America in the ice in Avengers #4. Two new women -- Broad-Stripe and Bright Star (why, yes, those are deeply unsubtle code names) -- ended up on the team instead, but, well... the Avengers just didn't work without Steve, and right when they ought to have founded the Kooky Quartet in Avengers #16, they disbanded instead. All because they'd never met Captain America. Thor went back to Asgard. Hank ended up in a psych ward. Tony died during heart surgery. (Don't worry, I'm coming back to this point later. So is the comic.) So the Caps split up to go see what they can find out about the remaining Avengers. Jan is hanging out with Sue Storm but has been warned about Kiyoshi and Shannon by the villain, and she kicks them out. Steve and Bucky break Hank out of the psych ward. And Tath Ki takes John Walker to Tony's tomb... to find that Tony's brain is missing from his body. Uh-oh. That's never a good sign.

And, oh, yes, Broad-Stripe and Bright Star are the villains of this series. And, what's more, Broad-Stripe is actually Superia, whom you will remember from the infamously terrible Cap arc The Superia Stratagem. It was really bad. It was really, really bad. But reading this has now retroactively made reading that worth it. Anyway, they're the ones who have been kidnapping all the Caps, and the Cap Corps here teams up with the local resistance force (yes, of course there's a resistance) to fight their way to the villains' headquarters. And do you know who else is at the villains' headquarters? It's Tony! I mean, it's Tony's brain. In a jar. Alive. And conscious. (And his eyeballs. I don't know why or how he still has his eyes. I'm trying not to think about that.)

The fact that Tony is now a brain in a jar is what the #book-club channel has been shrieking about with horrified glee for an entire month. If you like sad Tonys, there is no sadder Tony than this. You cannot make a sadder Tony than this. He is a brain in a jar. It's like everything about his favorite transhumanism, gone wrong. He's been there for years. He has never known Steve Rogers, and doesn't that just break your heart? He's suicidal. He begs the villain to finally kill him. He begs Hank to kill him, whether or not the good guys win. His life -- or undeath, or whatever it is -- is so awful that death is, for him, the happy ending. (We already know, canonically, that Tonys who never meet Steve are the saddest Tonys. Fantastic Four: Dark Reign #2, the issue that famously gave us Earth-3490, also gave us a look at Earth-1735, in which Steve is found very late in the superheroing game and Tony has clearly spent all the time in which they should have been Avengers together instead drinking his life away.) Sad Brain Jar Tony fills the good guys who find him -- Hank, Bucky, and Kiyoshi -- in on the villains' backstory and plans, which is basically that Superia has been stealing all the Captains America and has joined up with AIM and gotten herself a Cosmic Cube to shove them all into, and I'm sure we all guessed that that was happening because what even is a good Cap plot without a Cosmic Cube? Anyway, 1940s Steve doesn't meet Tony personally, as far as I can tell, but he does get to hear about him being alive over the comms, at least -- although it wouldn't mean much to him then, because at this point he doesn't know Tony. So all the Caps and Tath Ki and the villains end up falling into the Cosmic Cube along with the rest of the Caps that Superia stole, who are already in there. Steve merges with one of his other self, which breaks the Cube, and the alternate dystopian reality basically... vanishes from existence as everyone goes home. And Sad Brain Jar Tony is finally at peace. *sniff* Due to the mysteries of time-travel, Bucky and the two Caps after him -- Shannon and Kiyoshi -- remember what happened, but the two from before -- 1941 Steve and John Walker -- don't seem to. Except when Bucky meets up with his Steve, the Commander Rogers of 2011, it's clear that Bucky's return triggered something and Steve is starting to remember everything. Then Bucky decides to go turn himself in and face justice for the Winter Soldier's crimes. We get a brief look at Kiyoshi's time, where he's helping christen a new aircraft carrier named after Steve. And that's it. So obviously this is a completely wild plot in the way that comics are the best at, and what I really want most in life now is fic where 2011 Commander Rogers -- who we know is not the best at having feelings where Tony is concerned, because his current reaction to Tony is to scream at him about his feelings, in the snow, surrounded by all of their friends -- has to deal with the fact that he remembers being in a world where Tony is a sad brain in a jar and it all happened because he wasn't there to save him. Heroic Age-era (early Avengers v4) is one of my favorite flavors of Steve/Tony angst, as they work out how to have a friendship again (and are so bad at it that it involves a lot of very public screaming fights), and this just piles the angst right on top. (Yeah, guess what's on my WIP list now.) Objectively, it's not a perfect comic -- it's kind of a mess, but it's a mess in that glorious comics way that comics are so good at. I suspect if you're not here for the Steve/Tony you won't like it as much, but if you are... well, please enjoy pondering Sad Brain Jar Tony in his dystopian, Steve-less future.

#posts i actually wrote

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scentedsongrebel · 4 years

Text

What happens in Vegas

Pairings: Steve Rogers × Female! Reader, background BuckyNat

Summary: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas right? Wrong. And someone really should have told you that.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of smut but no actual smut, sexual innuendos, Accidental Marriage, Talks of Divorce, Fighting,small Angst, a lot of Fluff... Please tell me if I miss any.

Word Count: Approx. 9k.... This got a little out of hand.

A/N: So this is my entry for the wonderful @kayteewritessteve‘s #Kaytees1000FollowerChallenge. Congratulations on 1k followers, you totally deserve it! My prompts were: 10. “Kiss me again but like you mean it this time” and 24. “Never trust a man whose smile steals the breath right out of your lungs” The prompts in the story are in bold.

This was gonna be really angsty but halfway through I changed my mind. We all need a little fluff these days. I hope you guys like this one.

FRIENDS and Grey’s Anatomy fans yes I took some inspirations for some scenes.

MY MASTERLIST

The harsh glare of morning sunlight burns the skin on your arms and face and you groan in frustration. Your head is pounding with explainable pain from the hangover you were sure you have after last night.

The memories of the night itself are hazy and some parts are completely missing. Like how you got to the hotel room is an entire mystery.

Under the pain and burn there is also a comfort and warmth that you haven't felt before and you wanna loose yourself in it completely.

You sigh burying yourself further into the warmth to shield your body from the harsh glare of the morning sun before you realize something and jolt awake.

The arm previously around you falls limp on the bed as you look at the owner of the arm in absolute terror. A huge body and large muscles. A bead of sweat rolls down from the junction where his neck meets his back to further south. His face is squished in the pillow and you can make out a pool of drool under his mouth.

With wide eyes you realize he is naked from the waist up and you are pretty sure its the same from the waist down which is covered by the comforter. Exactly like you are.

His face isn't visible and fear starts to engulf you. Who is he? You just had sex with a stranger. With a look around the room you know it is yours. Which means great, you can't just sneak out. You would have to wake him.

You move your hand towards the man to shake him awake before retracting it back. You are not ready to face whoever this is. So a decision to wash your face and wear something, anything is made and you do just that.

After almost 10 minutes. A cold face wash and wearing your santa claus pajamas- don't want him to think you are intrested in another round or something- later you are still not ready to face this stranger but you have to. You have breakfast with your friends and Steve would be here to collect you any minute. A look at the clock of your phone confirms it.

Ok get on with it Y/N you can do this. Its just a stranger. Okay that is not an encouraging line but you have to wake him. Steve can't see him here.

Oh god what will Steve think of you? would he be able to look at you the same way he does these days if he found out what you just did? Shaking your head you scream at the stranger shaking his shoulders.

"Hey, hey mister wake up. You need to wake up. Dude, wake up"

It takes you a while before he starts to stir and this while you realize the hangover has not just vanished and your head pounds horribly painfully.

Just as the man starts to turn and wake up you run to the bathroom to puke. Emptying the food you do not even remember eating in the toilet seat. You flush and close the lid.

God that felt horrible. Maybe the stranger would get grossed out by this and leave quickly.

As you make your way back to your room. The man is sitting on the bed with his back to you and legs hanging off the bed with both his hands on his side. He lets out a groan as he moves his hand to massage his head before you call out.

"Hey so I don't remember much of last night but-"

He turns around to face you and just as both your eyes meet, you both let out an ear-piercing scream.

Your back hits the wall besides the bathroom door as you look at the man with widened eyes. He has fallen off the bed and is just pushing himself back up with a lot of effort. His knees are bent on the floor and he forces his hands on the bed to pop his face on it.

"Y/N" he whispers in shock and all you can do is look at him with the same amount of shock in return. "W-What happened?"

Your heart is hammering against your chest and you move your hand to your head

"Oh god!" You whisper "oh my dear god" You start moving around the room moving your hands through your hair and messing them up "Oh god oh god oh god"

He looks at you with wide eyes before suddenly realizing his nakedness and pulling the blanket over to cover himself.

"Did we?" He questions standing up and wrapping the blanket around his waist, a look at your panic rambling and he has his answer "Oh my god we did"

You are still chanting your fearful words before he takes hold of your shoulders to stop you.

"Y/N!" He screams at you so that you look at him in the eyes which you do exactly. "Are you okay. I'm so sorry I don't-"

He moves his hand through his hair in frustration, the other hand on his waist.

"I don't remember anything. Bucky forced me to have Thor's mead last night and I don't know maybe I drank more than I should have oh god I'm so sorry Y/N"

You are lost on words as you look at him, opening your mouth to say something but closing it again.

"Do you- do you remember anything about last night?" You question

"No its all very hazy. But I think I do remember a chapel from the wedding but that is all and oh, I definitely had sex"

You raise your eyebrows at him and he scratches the back of his head

"Its there in my memories. Very hazy but its there."

You shake your head "okay so we had drunk sex" he looks down at that, avoiding making eye contact with you, his face completely red.

You look down towards the floor and nod your head "there is a condom wrapper on the floor so we at least used protection"

He looks at the discarded condom wrapper, his face growing redder.

"Oh yeah- yeah okay" he stutters

Looking at the clock you realize you have only 10 mins before you have to meet your friends for breakfast and a sudden confidence embraces you.

"Okay so we get dressed go down for breakfast and pretend this never happened"

This makes him quickly whip his head to look at you "What-"

"Bucky and Natasha just got married, they are both are best friends and I can't just put this in front of them and steel their thunder"

He keeps staring at you, his eyes intense

"We talk about this later" you motion between the two of you

He just stares before nodding, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks around for his clothes.

"Steve-"

"No you are right" he says picking up his shirt from the floor and putting it on "They just got married, we can't put this on them just yet, so you get ready and I will change and see you at the breakfast"

He picks up his under wear and you turn around.

"You won't pick me up from my room?" You ask

"I don't think I should" is all he says before moving from besides you to get to the door.

He opens the door and leaves with a bang as the door closes . Never looking back.

-----------

Putting on a simple ripped jeans and a blue top, hair barely presentable, a little extra makeup to hide the dark circles and hickeys and you are ready.

You sigh as you walk down the corridor that will lead you to the restaurant where you are supposed to have breakfast with your friends. The prospect of having to see Steve making your heart flip faster than it usually does.

You can just see the three old ladies that sieve the strings of faith laughing at your predicament. You used to swoon at the prospect of getting a look at the handsome face and drowning eyes of the captain. Your heart used to flip in a different way when you got a look at his face.

Now the heart flipping is different, more terrifying.

The team sits on the farthest of the tables everyone chatting and eating stuff on their plates. You grab yourself a cup of coffee, not feeling like eating anything else and head to the table.

So lost in thought you don't notice the sudden silence that embraces the table as you make appearance and the questioning glances thrown your way.

You keep looking at your coffee, your mind wandering elsewhere. It is this distraction that causes you to miss the entry of a certain blonde, him sitting on the only empty seat which well was of-course besides you and the ever persistent gazes of your team mates.

You take a sip of your coffee while Steve takes a bite from his scrambled eggs before a voice calls out

"Okay, so are we not gonna address this"

You look at Sam in confusion waiting for someone else to voice it. After a moment of silence Steve sighs

"What?"

Sam looks at him with narrowed eyes, then raising both his hands to motion at Steve and then at you.

Your blood runs cold at that and your eyes widen comically. Sam knows. Sam knows and he told everyone. Oh god. Everyone knows. No no no. Your plan to ignore the situation seems to be failing. Time for the good old fashioned lie.

Without looking at Steve you stutter "W-W-What are you even" a forced laugh

"We saw you guys last night you know" Bucky sighs from his place diagonal to you, in front of Steve as he looks at his best friend "Steve invited us to see"

Your heart drops in disbelief and eyebrows you are sure have left your face with how high up above they have gone. For the first time since coming for breakfast you look at Steve.

"You what?"

Steve's eyes are just as wide if not more and his entire face is redder than a tomato. His lips are quivering in horror at the accusation

"I-no I-I-I don't- I don't" He stops speaking as if losing his ability to as he keeps looking at you, both of you surrounded in your bubble of horror.

"Oh I don't think he remembers much with how much you two were drunk" Natasha pipes in.

You both have still not recovered from your daze of shock, not really caring about anyone. How were you supposed to face these people again after this? After they saw you- oh god!

"Well we got there by the end so there was not much we saw" Tony speaks up this time completely unhelpfully

"No no no no no" You feel like your head would explode as you move your hands to your head running them frantically through your hair, not caring about how much they are getting messed up. "This can't be happening, you can't, no its- Ahhh"

Something on your finger gets stuck on your hair pulling it painfully and you retract your hand but your finger is stuck to a strand of your hair. You pull it with force and let out a cry as it pulls your hair harshly before getting the finger free.

You look at your finger to analyse before your feel like your heart stopped beating

"There's a ring on my finger" you whisper, eyes widening "there's a ring on my finger" a little louder "THERE'S A RING ON MY FINGER" a frantic scream as you push your chair back and stand up

The entire table looks at you with looks of fascinating, confusion and pity as you look at the ring and then at the paralyzed Steve who has not moved a muscle, his fingers clenching tightly on the arm rest of his chair

"Ummm you got married last night" Wanda, a little unsure "at a local chapel, that ia what Steve invited us for?"

"WE WHAT?"

"You got married, the marriage license is right here" Natasha pulls it out from her purse "They gave it to us after you two ran out of the place in celebration of becoming Mrs. Steve and Mr. Y/N"

You slowly sit back down on your chair before taking hold of the form with shaky hands. And yup. Its a legitimate marriage license.

"Oh god" you whisper in horror "this can't be happening, this can't be.... Steve!"

You shake him violently, in need of a reaction from him. This is not something you are going through alone. It is something you both are going through.

He turns to you with an apologetic expression

"Y/N I don't I-- don't know what" he shakes his head

"Me too"

"Okay so let me get this straight, you don't remember getting married?" Bucky moves forward in his chair

You both shake your head

"And this is the first you found out"

You both nod

"Wow" Bucky moves back, his back hitting the back on the chair with a thud "This is gonna be interesting"

And for the first time this night you feel an emotion other than fear, shock and absolute horror. The feeling is anger and you make use of it, grabbing the fork off Steve's plate and throwing it at Bucky.

Of course he dodges before raising his hands and motioning a zipping lip action

"Okay so what are you gonna do?" Natasha asks, patting Bucky on the shoulder

You shake your head looking at Steve, who looks back at you with furrowed eyebrows in anticipation "I don't know, We'll just get a divorce?"

"What?" Sam screams at you and you turn to look at him

"Its not like it was planned or something, we are not even dating, we'll just get a divorce, everything will go to normal, easy peasy" you shrug

There is a collective silence in the room as you look ahead of you in challenge for anyone to say anything. Tony and Pepper share a look as Wanda shakes her head at you. Natasha and Sam are looking between you and Steve while Bucky’s eyes are trained on Steve. Bruce is trying his hardest not to look at either of you as he whispers something in Thor’s hear who listens in concentration. Other people are yet to arrive for breakfast.

"No" Steve says from besides you, shaking his head

"What?"

"We are not getting a divorce"

"Excuse me?"

He shakes his head "We can't do that, I can't get a divorce"

"And why the hell not?" You feel angry at him all of a sudden "you can't force me to stay in a marriage"

He nods his head "I know I can't, you are your own independent person capable of making her own decisions, but this is not your decision, its ours and I won't get a divorce until I have at least tried to make my marriage work"

"Your marriage?" You move closer to him, voice laced with anger "this was a freaky, drunk mistake"

He sighs "Y/N" he moves his hand to place it over yours but you move it away "can we talk in private please"

You stand up suddenly, banging your hand on the table, making Sam and Tony flinch back

"You can't force me into doing anything"

And with that you are storming out of the room, Natasha and Wanda quickly getting up to follow behind just as Clint comes in sipping on his mimosa

"Hey guys!" He looks around at the atmosphere of the room "did I miss something?"

-------------------

"No no no no no no no no no no" You are chanting as you move around the room, your hands tangled in your hair.

Natasha and Wanda sit on the bed of your hotel room, watching you go crazy, long given up on having a sane conversation. After a while of trying to calm you down and failing they decided to let you release all your anger.

There is a knock on your door followed by a voice and Natasha's come in all of which you ignore as you continue with your breakdown.

"She broken?" The new occupant of the room asks

"Yup" Wanda nods her head "We just cannot shut her down, I guess the off switch has gone bad, Clint"

"I got a rip off version of the story from Tony is it true?"

"What do you think?" Natasha asks sarcastically, rolling her eyes

Clint turns towards you, watching you going around the room chanting ‘no no no no’ then looks back at Natasha

"Definitely true"

All of them turn back to you

They say your wedding day is the happiest day of your life, you really wanna meet those people right as of now and give them a piece of your mind.

Your mind is in overdrive, feelings of betrayal, of uncertainty, of anger, of regret and off an unknown nature surround you. Memories of the morning, the little specks of last night, the gentle touch of his hand, the warmth of his huge body, the smell of him on your body that you washed off in the shower.

You shake your head trying, hoping these pictures in your mind would fall off from the force of the jerks. You cannot do this. You cannot deal with this. You were not ready.

You had feelings for Steve yes but those feelings don't give rise to happiness for a marriage you don't know if you want.

You don't know him. If he were the same person in a relationship, what he wants from a wife, what he wants from you. The future is a dark place and you are not ready for this step in your life. Feelings and everything aside, you are not ready to be someone's wife.

There is a shake on your shoulders that pulls your mind back to the mortal world. You blink twice to make out the offender who of course is Clint, Clicking his fingers in front of your eyes calling out hello hello.

You groan in irritation, pulling your hands out of your hair that they are completely entangled in. A single finger get stuck to a string of hair and you forcefully pull it out, at the moment not caring about ripping the hair off your scalp.

You look at the offending finger in question and the huge fake diamond ring attached to it. This ring. The ring that signifies all this. The stupid stupid ring. In the moment all you can do is blame the piece of jewelry for every bad thing that has been happening to you ever since you wore it and in your anger yank the ring of your finger and throw it away.

It hints the floor and the rolls over to the edge off your bed near Natasha who lifts her leg up to avoid contact with the thing. You glare at the ring with all the anger you have.

Everyone in the room looks at the ring in fear then at you before Wanda raises her hand, volunteers and stands up

"Hey Y/N" you look at her with shining eyes "You wanna talk now"

You just nod your head

"Fucking Steve Rogers" you seethe in anger

"Oh oh" Wanda looks around at the other occupants of the room "I thought we were supposed to console her crying"

"No no" Natasha shakes her head and stands up "We need to help her release the anger whatever way she feels is best"

Clint starts to speak something but Natasha interrupts

"Yeah fuck that guy" she nods moving towards you, encouraging you to go on, you oblige, suddenly feeling the need to

"That that moron"

"Yes very good go on Y/N"

"America's ass more like America's asshole"

"Yeah!"

"Okay okay" Clint quickly moves towards the both of you "I think that is enough"

"No Clint let her release her anger"

"Nat" he gives her a look and she huffs in irritation

"Since when did you become the sensible one in this friendship"

"Since you became the childish one" Clint shakes his head again "trust me being the one calming people down is a gig I will never want again"

"Guys" Wanda motions at the anger flared you. Clint focuses his attention back to you

"I thought you liked him"

"Seriously?" You glare at him "Just because I have feelings for a guy does not mean I want to marry him, I'm not ready to be his wife!"

"Fair point" Clint nods his head "okay, I'm sure if we both and by we both I mean the both of you talk it out, I know there will be a solution"

"He said no for a divorce"

"He what?"

"Didn't you hear the entire story?" Natasha crosses her arms "She said they can get a divorce and he said No"

"No?"

"Yes just No and" she puffs out her chest and imitates in her best Steve voice "I won't get a divorce"

"Okay but-"

"No buts Clint" you shake your head moving towards the bed and sitting down on it, Wanda coming to sit besides you "He is forcing me to stay married to him"

"He didn't say he was forcing you" Wanda says but you ignore her,

"I knew it" you glare at the wall in front of you "My mom always said Never trust a man whose smile steals the breath right out of your lungs”

"Seriously your mom said that?"

"No but it sounds really insightful and deep when you add the line my mom always said that"

"Oh my god you're right" Clint smiles nodding his head

"And we're back to me being the logical one" Natasha sighs, moving her hand to your shoulder "look Y/N as much as I am angry at Steve right now, Wanda has a point, he wants to talk to you"

"Nat" you shake your head I don't want anything to do with him"

"Y/N"

You shake your head

"No I want a divorce and that is that. He can't just declare he won't get a divorce and expect me to be okay with it"

You move towards the cupboards of your hotel room, pulling out your suitcase and stuffing the clothes you have lying around the room in it

"What are you doing?"

"Going home, I can't deal with this right now, I need a clear head and Ican't have it here"

"Y/N"

You raise your hand to stop Wanda from speaking anything further

"I just, I need time okay, just let me go"

"Okay I'll get the quinjet started-"

"No Nat" you shake your head "I'm going commercial and I need to be alone right now, I'm sorry"

All three of your friends share looks of concern with each other before turning to your aggressively packing form and sigh.

-----------

Steve raises a hand to the door, gathering the courage to knock before shaking his head and dropping his hand.

He shakes his head and looks at Bucky and Sam both of whom give him a double hand thumbs up and he sighs.

He has to do this. He has to tell her. Make it clear what he meant because ofcourse he didn't mean he was ripping you off your choice. Yes maybe his words were wrong and its his fault for that but he didn't mean it the way she took it.

A smile graces his lips and he shakes his head. His Y/N or well he wishes you were his and his smile widens at the thought of what you would say about that.

I am no one's, I am my own person.

Yes yes you are. Your own brilliant, smart, talented, beautiful person just a few reasons why he loved you so much.

Because it was love wasn't it. Love that he felt towards you when you smiled, when you steel from Bucky's secret doritos stash for Steve on his bad days, cleverly placing the blame on Sam (leaving behind evidences and all), He loves you when you fearlessly fight in the line of fire, when you run towards him with the first aid when a wound gets too deep, He loves you when you stop him from attacking the obnoxious accounts guy who says shit about Bucky before punching him on the nose yourself, he falls a little more in love with you every single time you do anything for him or others of your crazy family.

He just loves you and he will never force you into something you absolutely don't want. But he has to try to make you see this from his perceptive.

Before he can more his hand to knock on the door, it opens up to reveal the worn out face of the woman that rules his dreams.

A suitcase in hand, hair tied in a loose bun that sits on the back of your neck, spectacles sitting on the bridge of your nose, and clothes perfect for- wait were you leaving?

Your eyes widen behind the lenses of your glasses as you look at him before composing yourself back and trying to move around him. He does not budge.

"Y/N"

You shake your head, looking down

"I need to go Steve"

"Where?"

"Its none of your business"

"It is my business, I need to talk to you"

"Too bad because I'm leaving"

He sighs

"Y/n"

You shake your head and look at him with anger in your eyes "What? you think you can boss me around into submission?"

"No" he says trying to keep his calm "I want to talk that is all, then you can go all you want"

"No I am going now" you again try to push past him but fail

"Okay then I'll go with you" He says reaching out for your suitcase that you pull away from his reach

"No I don't need you to come with me"

"Well I need me to go wherever you go until we talk, so really the ball is in your court"

"Let me go" you seethe in anger, putting your suitcase down and clenching your fists.

"Talk to me" he says calmly

"I have a right to choose not to talk to you"

"Then I have a right to stand where I want"

"No you don't I'll call security"

"Do it" he crosses his arms "I'm not stepping away until we talk"

You look around to see all your friends watching intently, Natasha stands behind you shooting daggers at Steve while Clint looks between the both of you in worry, Wanda gives you a sympathetic smile, behind Steve Bucky and Sam turn away as you look at them, pretending they weren't even listening, idiots.

You take a deep breath knowing full well calling security is not an option. You guys are really famous, he's Captain America for god's sake this will be the headline before you can even blink.

You were not ready for that so shaking your head and convincing yourself that this is the only option because it was and its not because you want to hear what he has to say. Your feelings for him are long gone. The accelerating heart beat and the sense of warmth and safety are not because of him.

You step back into the room, allowing him in and motioning for him to go on. He looks around the room at the other occupants, his best friends just at the entrance and then turns back to you

"I was hoping for a little privacy"

The others look at each other but before they can even start moving you say

"No"

"What?"

"I said no" you cross your arms deepening your glare "Like you can say no to the divorce I can say no to being alone with you and also I need witnesses"

He rolls his eyes and then narrows them at you "I won't do anything you don't need witnesses"

"Its not for you, they are to keep me from snapping and killing you"

He rolls his eyes again, pinching his nose

"Now you're really annoying me, its not my fault what happened last night, you can't blame it all on me"

"Oh so its my fault"

He sighs, growing angry by the second

"Y/n, You know I didn't say that and for a second can we just talk about it like two mature adults"

"I am talking like an Adult"

"You've been making a scene like a child"

"Me" You look around, a laugh escaping your lips "I'm making a scene? Who was the one who declared my choice doesn't matter"

"I did not say that" he growls and before you can say anything else he moves a finger to your lips, effectively shutting you up

"I said I can't get a divorce, There was more I would have said if you hadn't have left the room, or you would have talked to me"

"I-" he shushes you again

"You know what your problem is? Its that you don't listen, you just assume, You know I would never force you into a marriage you don't want but still decide to believe that. You want the truth? Here it is. I can't get a divorce before giving my marriage a try-"

You try to interrupt, try to remind him this isn't a real marriage that this isn't real but he stops you

"Please just listen okay" His ocean blue eyes shine emotion and you find yourself drowning, realizing again that how ever much you want them to go away the feelings you have for him are still present. The sadness in his eyes, the fact that it seems he make cry any second calms your burning anger. Because suddenly you realize you are not the only one going through this.

You nod, tired suddenly, this day has been hectic and long, filled with uncertainty and there was only one sanctuary in times like these and it was these blue eyes and so you finally decide to listen. He shakes his heads,

"I can't get a divorce before giving my marriage a try, I can't. Call me old fashioned but marriage in my time was considered sacred, it was a bond for life time and I always believed that when I got married I will do everything to make it work, to keep my wife happy. I know these are not normal circumstances in which people get married but its a marriage none the less and I would, I could never- I never would be able to forgive myself if I didn't give my marriage a try especially because its you-"

He shakes his head, you both look at each other, eyes shining and bodies catching up with the exhaustion you felt since the morning. There is no one except the two of you in the moment and that is why you don't notice the disappearance of your friends that slipped out the door moments ago.

"Why?" you move closer "What do you mean?"

"That I can't let my marriage fall apart with a girl I always wanted to marry in the future, because I know Y/n if we go through the divorce things are gonna be awkward and yes I'm selfish but I can't take that chance, the chance to loose you"

You shake your head

"I-"

"You don't wanna be married before dating right, before knowing how I am in a relationship?" He takes a step forward "then let me take you on a date, let be buy you flowers and pick you up at your doorstep, let me take you to a fancy restaurant that serves way little food to fill our stomachs so we have to go to the hotdog cart in the park and then walk around talking about nothing. Let me give you my coat when you get cold, let me hold your hand and keep you close."

"Let me take you on several dates: ice skating, paint balling, trekking, just watching tv on the bed, let me be your partner in whatever you wanna do and when you feel you are ready that is when we can move further. Let's just forget about this marriage if you want, just just give me a chance to be the right man for you" he shakes his head "give me a chance to be your man and take care of you, fight with you, buy gifts for you to make up, anything you want just let me be the guy you want for once, give me a chance, let me love you Y/n"

You take a breath at that. A lone tear falling down your left eye. How many times have you wanted for him to say this, how many times have you dreamed about this moment (under different circumstances of course). How many times have you wished for this closeness? Then what was it that was holding you back. Was it fear? Uncertainty? Mistrust? No it was yourself and a set of rules you had for yourself.

The rules, the decisions, the anger all seem to be melting under his bright gaze. Under the burning heat of his ocean blue eyes. The eyes that shine too. That hold back tears of fear. Scared of a chance that this may not work, that this may not be what you want. That a night he let loose would become the night he lost everything he wanted.

You both stay there a moment holding each others gaze before you decide fuck it and close the distance. Grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to yours. Giving your control, your anger, your stubbornness, your lips, yourself all to him.

He is startled at first. Not responding to the kiss at all. For a while he had no idea what even is happening but when the flutter of his heart slows down, when the feel on his lips dies down as you pull away.

"I-" your eyes widen as you realize what you just did and you shake your head "I didn't I- that sounded so good, I- couldn't I couldn't help myself. I didn't mean to just ambush you like this- I didn't mean to do this- I-"

You start rambling, tears building up in your eyes before Steve brings his index finger placing it on your lips, effectively shutting you up. He moves a string of your hair behind your ear with his other hand and stares in your eyes with a passion, you feel he is directly looking at your soul.

“I need you to kiss me again but like you mean it this time” he says moving both his hands to behind your neck and pulling you close "I need to give you the reaction to this kiss like you deserve"

A tear falls down your left eye which he is quick to wipe away, you look into his eyes, so welcoming, passionate, waiting, giving you the chance to not mean it. To walk away now if you don't want this. But you are tired and this is all you have wanted. He was offering you everything you wanted and you take it. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his lips to yours.

The kiss is hungry, its passionate, its everything. He kisses you like there is no tomorrow, like this was the last thing he will ever do and he has to do it perfectly. His hands are everywhere and so are yours. You touch, you feel, you kiss and you lose yourself to him and him to you. Its a melody a song and dance routine with your bodies matching in step.

You feel him push to backwards before falling on the bed, him on top of you, making sure not to crush you under his weight, never stopping the kiss. If breathing wasn't necessary for you maybe he would not have let go but alas it was and you needed to breath and so he pulls away, not stopping his en devour of your body, moving to places kisses along your jaw, your cheeks, your collar bone, behind your ear and after being sure you're all caught up on breath he takes over your lips again. Its just kissing, a heavy makeout session but by the time you're both finished, your breaths are shallow, and bodies are tired and in need of more.

Steve never breaks eye contact after he pulls away, smiling and tucking at strand of your hair that has fallen to your cheek behind your ear. After what feels like a moment he whispers in your ear

"Is that a yes to that date"

A laugh escapes your lips before you can help it and you slap his shoulder making him loose balance and almost fall down on you but he manages to get control

"No" you shake your head playfully and he narrows his eyes at you

"Seems like you need more convincing then"

You wink at him with a wicked smile

"Maybe" but before he can dive in to capture your lips again you hold up your palm in front of his face which he promptly kisses, pushing it away to reach your lips around it. You giggle and shake your head "wait hold up, I have something to say"

"Say it fast I don't think I can stop kissing you now that I know how it feels"

Your heart flutters at that but with a quick shake of head to bring yourself back.

"This does not mean I agree to be your wife for the rest of your life"

He gives you a sad smile at that nodding his "I know" he moves a string of your hair that had come to your cheeks behind your ear "I gotta woe you" A cheeky smile "And trust me I'm all prepared to spoil you with my love".

And this time you don't stop him as he dives in for a long, very long makeout session and maybe something more.

--------------

The moon shines through the open window complete in its half crescent glory. The stars barely visible in your New Your city suburban Avengers compound. The room is lit with candles and the table is set with all his favorite dishes.

Steve has no idea of the surprise that was waiting for him. He had kept good on his promise of loving you, of dating you before you have to live as a married couple.

One month in he had looked at you as you entered the communal kitchen, placed a kiss on his sweat soared cheeks from his workout, gagged and imitated puking before sitting besides him and stealing his pancakes. He had watched you as you ate from his plate before nudging him and telling him to think of it as his own food and eat with you.

After giving you a deep kiss and departing towards his room to take a bath, he had turned to Bucky and told him he was done. You were the one. Earning a gleeful laugh and pat of the back from his best friend.

Two months in he had bought the ring with the help of all the avengers because when he told Bucky he had to tell Sam too and Bucky can't hide anything from Nat and if Nat knows so should Wanda and Tony knows all about the best jewelry shops and prices and so on so forth everyone was involved.

There was a solo mission organised for you, a crappy stake out because no one wanted to miss the ring choosing part by volunteering to distract you. Even though Steve tried his hardest to tell them that is the only reason they were told. He seemed to have reached deaf ears.

Different jewelers from all around the world signed an NDA and flooded the compound to be the seller of THE RING. None worked and at the end Steve drew a sketch of what he wanted and presented it to the old lady that owned the store near his house in Brooklyn. The ring was perfect.

Four months in he asked you to move in with him and four and a half month in you said yes.

Five months in you were living in the house Steve had built just for the two of you in the Avengers compound. Because no matter how much he wanted a place just for the two of you, he couldn't compromise your safety and Avengers Compound was the safest it can get. Plus he was not sure you could live much far away from the idiots you called family.

Six months in he got the courage to propose and six months in you told him with tears in your eyes you were not ready yet. Six months in he had held you and told you he would wait as long as it took

Seven months in and he had asked if he could call you his wife almost thrice every week. It were little moments where he would remind you he was all in. Where he would talk about wedding cakes if you wanted a ceremony even though you won't have to.

Sly glances at a specific finger on your left hand, bare and manicured when you complained to Nat on the phone about the guy at the bar who couldn't take a hint.

He was ready for joint accounts and had even talked with his bank on giving you access to all his money. A life insurance was set up with you as the nominee because he knew how unpredictable life could get and he wanted you taken care of if something were to happen.

Bucky called him Idiot in love, Wanda said it was sweet, Sam just laughed and muttered something about him being a goner and Nat just shaked her head in amusement.

Eight months in and you knew you were ready. Having gotten every Avenger in on your plan. Because if you tell Wanda, Natasha has to be told too and Nat can't hide anything from Bucky and if Bucky knows Sam has to know too and Tony knows all the people that can help set you up the place and so on so forth every Avenger was involved, giving you their verbal promises not be too nosy. Promises they broke obviously except Sam who had crossed his fingers behind his back so his promise doesn't count.

Nine months in and that is how Steve was greeted when he entered the house he shared with you. The smell of roses and the distant one of steak. The living room lit with candles and you, his girl standing in the living room dressed like the fairies his ma told him were the creation that god delicately put together himself. His girl smiling at him and melting his heart with her eyes.

She motions for him to come to her and his legs take a course without his consent.

She is in his arms in a second and kissing his lips the next one. The moment is beautiful, its quiet, its everything and when they break off he looks at her questioningly.

"Whats all this?" He asks looking around the entire room, his eyes lands on the table set up for two with a candle in the middle and all his favorite dishes spread around the table "Wow all this for me? Is today something special, am I forgetting something?"

Still looking at the flowers and romantic decor of the room, he misses the uncertainty and fear in your eyes as you try to calm your running heart to a reasonable pace.

And thus when he turns to look at her, the exact moment a tear falls down her eyes he quickly runs to her trying to take her in his arms but she resists move a hand in front of her to stop him

"Y/n whats going on" He looks at you in fear now "did I do something wrong? Are you leaving me and all this is you make me feel better, because I can improve, tell me what I did wrong, I will fix it -I-"

A little laugh out of your lips stops him in his ramble and ge looks at you with knitted eyebrows, confusion all over his face

You sigh, moving towards him and taking his hands in your own "Steven Grant Rogers I don't believe in happily ever afters and forever, I never believed in consuming, encompassing love , I used to laugh at the couples on TV that promised each other infinity because I never understood that. I have tried to find reason for love, reason to love someone so much that they are all you want, to promise an eternity because you want one with them. But today here I am and I have no idea why I love you this much. No reason. But I still love you and I do want to promise you an eternity"

His eyes shine in synchronicity with yours as a single tear falls down your left eye. He brings his hand to your cheek and wipes it away and you smile at him before moving to get down on your knee and suddenly he realizes what is happening and he catches hold of your shoulders forcing you to keep standing. He holds up a finger in front of you, a huge smile gracing his lips

"Hold on just a minute" he runs away in the direction of the bedroom.

You look at him with wide eyes, shocked for a moment before deciding to follow him. This is what you get after your entire heart felt speech? Is it payback for the time you said no?

Steve is frantically searching through the drawers of his night stand, closet, the pockets of his pant and coats, throwing everything around in search

"Where is it!" He huffs angrily while throwing all his clothes around the room. One article of said clothes flies away and hits you right on the face. You throw it away, rolling your eyes

"Steve?"

"A minute" he doesn't look up

"Steve"

"I need to find it, where is it?" Steve keeps searching, your entire room is a mess of clothes and books and how many glasses do you guys even own?

"Steve you won't find the rings" He stops at that and looks at you, eyebrows furrowed

"What do you mean?"

"You won't find the rings because I'm wearing them" you move your left hand in front of him so that he can have a look at your ring finger. The diamond shines of on finger matching the shine of both your eyes.

"Now can I finish"

He nods never taking his glistening eyes off the ring on your finger as he moves to sit on the bed.

You move closer to him and sit on the floor in front of the bed taking hold of his hands in both of yours.

"What I'm trying to say is that you have been my Prince, even though I never wanted one, you ambushed my heart and now I want to be your wife" you move to sit up a bit as you look at him "So Steve my handsome hero can I please call you my husband from this day forth? Seeing as we already did get married?"

A smile so wide, you are sure his cheeks must be hurting graces his lips and he nods his head, seemingly lost on words.

"You move his hand in between the both of you and look down on it, before digging in the pocket of your dress (yup your dress had pockets, one of the many reasons you bought it) and producing a silver wedding band you had bought for him

"May I?" You motion towards his ring finger

He shakes his head pulling his hand back and you look at him in confusion. He just smiles and produces the other hand

"That was the right one, here"

You smile at him shaking your head and placing the ring on his finger before he takes your hand and pulls the rings off your finger and smiles at your knitted brows

"Its my right to put these on your finger, you can't take it away from me"

You laugh at that and eagerly give your hand to him, on which he places both the engagement and wedding rings, holding it out for himself to look at and smiling, as a tear rolls down his eye.

You move your hand to wipe it away and he catches it to place a soft kiss on your rings.

"I love you"

"I love you too"

You both move towards each other, you lips mere inches apart when a voice calls out

"You may kiss the bride"

And kiss the bride he does not, instead jumping on in full action mode, moving you behind him from any unwanted threat. You are started too, looking around and moving your hand under the bed to pull out your gun before you realize who the voice belongs to and roll your eyes

"Steve its fine" He sigh irritably "Its just-"

"Me!" Clint jumps out of the AC vent with some of the Avengers following while the others come out of other different locations around your house

Steve shakes his head, clearly annoyed as he looks the the offenders

"What the hell is wrong with you guys" He asks exasperatedly, moving his hands through his hair

"What you though we would miss this after years of pinning?" Bucky asks, putting his arm around Natasha who just smiles at you. None looking even a little bit guilty.

"Yes" you sigh "You said you won't be nosy"

"Its not nosy when it comes to both of your love life" Sam says and the others nod their heads

"It is-" Steve starts to speak before sighing and shaking his head "You know what yes. And now that you have seen all you have to, you can leave"

He starts pushing everyone out. And you let out a little laugh as they argue back

"Hey I thought we were going to celebrate" Tony looks around the room “I got champagne and stuff”

"We will celebrate after I have celebrated with my wife" Steve tries hard to send them away "I need to celebrate with just her first okay"

"What no wait a minute-" Bucky starts to say but its Natasha that interrupts him

"Hey Buck lets just leave them" she says and before her husband can protest any further she adds, patting her hand on his chest and winking in your direction with a smirk "let then have this time to themselves and make our godchild"

A collective groan burst out in the room while you glare daggers at your smirking now ex best friend

"I wish I could unhear that" Tony sighs moving out of the room and towards the main entrance "okay fine but you're throwing us that wedding party Rogers"

Steve nods, eager to send them all away, his face still red with remnants of the blush Nat's comment caused

"Yeah, Your drunk wedding took away my best man opportunity" Bucky crosses his arms

"Who said you were gonna be best man" Sam asks pushing Bucky on the shoulder

Bucky straightens his body, puffing out his chest and coming close to Sam

"Oh but I am gonna be" Sam moves closer glaring daggers at Bucky and before you or anybody else could resolve their fight Steve speaks up

"Fight it out outside" he says pushing both of them out "tell me who won"

You look at him with amusement as Nat whispers "Someone's eager" in your ear, patting your shoulder, moving out towards the other Avengers, breaking the fight between her husband and his frenemy.

You look to see what happens before Steve quickly closes the door double locking just to be sure and then turns at you, a simple smile on his face. You smile back

"Now where were we?" He moves closer, taking you into his arms

"I think we were gonna kiss" you hit his nose with your finger

"Oh yeah I was gonna kiss my bride" he pulls you close so that you wrap your legs around his waist, perfectly eye to eye with him now.

You nod, pulling your lips in a straight line

"Before those guys-" you start to say but Steve puts a finger on your lips, effectively stopping you from speaking any further

"Don't" he shakes his head "Don't talk about those idiots"

"Okay" you smile at him, waiting for him to make a move

"May I kiss my bride?" He then asks you, with passion in his eyes

"You may kiss your bride" you say and just as he moves to pull you in for a kiss you whisper "Husband"

He stops smiling at you before pulling your legs off from around his waist and putting you down.

"I will my Wife" he whispers his eyes shades darker, dipping you down, his hands on your waist and the back on your head, he takes your lips in a passionate kiss.

----------- The end ----------

So I was gonna add a little epilogue at the end but this one got too long so I think I would post it separately. Thank you for reading!

Tags: @kayteewritessteve

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bruciewayne · 4 years

Text

(pt 6/? stevetony ocean’s 11 au, ao3 link in bio)

“You’re out of your goddamn minds!”

Steve, admittedly, has to acquiesce to that. “It’s never been tried before…” he says, in an attempt to appeal to Fury’s daring and ambitious side.

Fury scoffs. “Oh, it’s been tried, three times, unsuccessfully. What do you have that the other three didn’t?”

“A divorce,” Bucky mutters under his breath. Nat steps in his foot under the table and he attempts to hide his wince, to no avail if Fury’s raised eyebrow suggests anything.

“I know casino security and these guys… they have enough ammo and people to occupy Paris. And even if you manage to make it out of there, with your money and your life you seemed to have forgotten that you’d still be in the middle of the fucking desert!”

“Would I go to you with a half-assed plan?” Steve challenges, then amends after Fury’s look, “Would Nat let me show you this with a half-assed plan?”

“Fine.”

“They’re Laufeyson’s places.”

Fury pauses for a second. He knows exactly why Steve and his little, soon to be expanded, gang came to him: he has money, an entirely justified vendetta against the greasy little fucker, and incredibly misplaced trust in Steve Rogers.

“If you’re going to steal from Loki Laufeyson you better be prepared for the aftermath. This sort of thing used to be civilised. You’d hit a guy, he’d whack you. Done. Laufeyson… at the end of this, he better not know you're involved, not know your names, or think you're dead. Because he'll kill you, and then he'll go to work on you.”

“I know,” Steve says, simply, “we’ve gotta be careful, precise. Well funded.”

“And batshit crazy,” Fury adds. “Who you got?”

“Well, we’ll need an AV guy…”

Bucky watches the patrons of a coffee shop go about their daily routines, bleary-eyed students amongst immaculately dressed businesspeople interspersed with tired parents desperately trying to console their children, eventually finding Clint despite his seemingly desperate attempts to blend in with the haggard students, if his dress and general demeanour is anything to go by. Clint spots him barely a second after.

“What do you need?” Clint asks, pressing a hot drink into his hand a minute later.

“Can’t I just visit a friend?”

“Sure. Just a little sus’ that you’re making a social call less than a week after Rogers’ got out, don’t you think?”

Bucky grunts and doesn’t even question how he knows that Steve got out, instead, he presses a plane ticket and an address into his hand. “You better make it. He’s planning on taking down Loki,” he tells him before he does a significantly better job of blending into the crowds.

“...a demo guy…”

“Thor?” Steve suggests. Nat shakes her head.

“Overseas.”

“Technically,” Sam interjects, “on the seas.”

Steve doesn’t groan aloud but it’s a near thing, “Don’t tell me he’s with…”

“Hey, last I heard he’s settling fantastically into the pirate life!”

“With a guy who takes advice from his pet raccoon.”

To be fair, Steve doesn’t actively hate Quill and his gang of modern pirate mercenaries, he’s even worked with them before. But he does actively believe that Thor can do a lot better, though, if he’d blown up a small, mostly desolated Norweigian town and was on the run he too would go to sea.

“Well, who else do we have?”

Natasha watches from the safety of a cop car as alarms start blaring and, consequently, a stream of young, pretty criminals get arrested, Carol trailing behind at the end. She waits another minute, lets the real cops cuff her before she swoops in, flashes a badge and tells the disgruntled cop to “go get my partner, tell him we got this.” Under the guise of roughly handling her, she passes a set of materials to her, “That enough?”

Carol nods as Nat reminds the officer to go get her fictional partner. She hears a loud snap from behind Carol and she mutters “Thirty seconds.”

They make their way through the yellow tape, “Steve here?” Carol asks, tossing her makeshift explosive into an abandoned squad car.

“‘Round the corner,” Nat confirms, unlocking her handcuffs and tucking them into her pocket, “ten seconds?”

Carol grunts. “Almost. Be good working with professionals again.”

“Okay,” she says, after a beat, “go!” They both start running as Nat yells to her ‘colleagues’.

“Get down! There’s a bomb! Everybody down!!”

Amongst the chaos and mayhem, Carol and Nat manage to slip away mostly unnoticed; a baby in a strolling blinks distrustingly up at them as they pass them and their father, who appears to be very engaged in a phone call that seems to have taken a turn for the worst, but aside from that, they’ve made a fairly clean break.

“Captain.”

“Major.”

“Matt?”

“Isn’t he still mad at me?”

“He’s also still working pro bono for cherry pie.”

“You knock,” Steve tells Sam when they find themselves in front of a door that grandly declares that this is the location of Nelson, Murdock & Page.

Sam looks only slightly affronted. “Why me?”

“Matt doesn’t like me.”

Before they can carry on bickering the door swings open, and the man in question appears before their eyes. “Matt likes the Steve Rogers that doesn’t make him defend an undefendable case.”

“Aw, you think I’m undefendable?” Steev mocks, electing not to comment on the fact that 1. Matt talking in the third person heavily disturbs him, and he’s been to Jersey, and 2. he plead guilty.

“Ignore him” Sam interjects.

“Often do.”

“We have a score. Big one. Vegas.”

If emotions could radiate from people, Matt would be screaming suspicion and distrust. He doesn’t do well in casinos far too much input, though he has enough faith in Steve that he’s pretty sure he’ll never actually cross the threshold. “I’m the whole list, aren’t I?”

Steve looks in betrayal at Sam, “He’s the whole list?” Sam, as he also often does, ignores Steve.

“Combination of cons. One night. $150 million between us.”

“You’re lucky it’s a slow week,” Matt grumbles, before he shuts the door in their face.

“Well. That went better than I thought it would.”

Sam just rolls his eyes and shoves Steve in the general direction of out.

“Eight should be enough, right?”

Nat shrugs, mentally ticks through their current roster and matches the skill sets to jobs and watches Steve do the same.

“You think we need one more?”

Nat shrugs, tilts her head. She could do it, Matt could probably do it but...

“You think we need one more.”

Nat shrugs again.

“Okay. we’ll get one more.”

Steve doesn’t often get the subway. It brings back… interesting memories. This time, he’s not going particularly anywhere, just watching a guy who looks barely old enough to graduate high school - by recommendation of JJJ. The train comes to a sudden stop and all the commuters sway forth with the air of people who have come to expect it land have given up fighting it, like a child with a broken backpack, with the exception of Parker. He, committing subway etiquette blasphemy, bumps into a guy who looks like he believes he’s too good for the subway, sleek, well-dressed Wall Street type. Steve has fond memories of breaking into guys like his houses. Parker, in one of the smoothest lifts Steve’s ever seen, takes the guy’s Apple watch and his wallet, muttering a shy, bashful, “Sorry,” after.

Steve follows him, unnoticed, as he gets off the packed train into an even more crowded station. He’s not in any rush: he’s done this before. Parker fluidly dodges the crowds with the ease of a kid who grew up here, who grew up blending in without any intention of hiding.

Steve brushes up against him, without acknowledging him in the slightest and forges on, plan fulfilled. All he has to do it wait. Then, out of pure curiosity, he doubles back and follows him through a series of back alleys until he reaches the backside an apartment complex flirting with ‘decrepit’. Parker takes maybe two steps back before swinging himself up 2, 3, 4 floors via the fire escape. A broad skillset could get one very far in this world.

Up in apartment 4C, Peter Parker empties his pockets to find the Apple watch and, instead of the overstuffed wallet, to his dismay, he unpockets a business card with a name, location, and time. Well, if he’s going to be kidnapped at least the culprit has been kind enough to give their name - possibly an alias, the primary location - a relatively popular diner, and the time - dinner.

When he gets to Ditko & Lee, a man, steely-eyed and ruggedly handsome with the beard, makes eye contact with him. On the tabletop next to a half-drunk cup of coffee, there’s the wallet from the Wall Street guy. Against all better instincts, Peter approaches him.

“Who are you?” Peter asks, a name just doesn’t cut it for him.

“Friend of JJJ,” Steve replied. Peter supposes he intended to be vague and somewhat mysterious and elusive, but to Peter’s admittedly limited knowledge, Mr. Jameson doesn’t actually have that many friends. “Sit down.”

Peter sits.

Out of his jacket pocket, Steve brings out a plane ticket and places it parallel to the wallet. He keeps his hand over it. “This is a plane ticket, job offer. In or out, right now.”

“What if I say no?”

Steve shrugs. “We get someone not as good and you can go back to… petty pickpocketing, Peter Parker.”

He considers it. It could be a trap, what for, he’s not entirely sure, but he’s come across many a shady person in his life. Steve is definitely shady, but he feels like he wouldn’t screw him over. Peter thinks it’s the eyes.

He looks down at the wallet and the ticket, equidistant from him. One or the other. Take it or leave it.

Steve, as a test for more his own enjoyment than anything else, decides to signal a passing waitress for a refill. When he turns back to the table the wallet is still there, but the ticket is gone.

“That’s the best lift you’ve done yet,” Steve had, at the very least, expected to feel it. Maybe he’s losing his touch, getting soft.

“Las Vegas, huh?”

Steve shrugs. “America’s playground.”

“I didn't know you owned casinos?” Steve said rolling over to face Tony properly. It’s stupidly late, a kind of late that’s really far too much into the next day to really, feasibly be perceived as stupidly late and really, is stupidly early, early enough that the sun’s begun it’s daily rise, streaming in soft, pale dawn light through Steve’s loft’s windows. They’d stayed up the entire night, just talking, actually getting to know each other.

“Technically,” Tony said, fighting a yawn, “I don’t. A subsidiary of Stark Industries owns the bank that owns some of the casinos down there.” His hair was messy, not intentionally, black-and-white photoshoot in a workshop that’s actually very well composed soundstage, but ridiculous bedhead messy. Steve rarely found Tony not gorgeous, but right now, curled in his comforter, light casting long, lazy shadows dancing around the room, Tony seemed so vulnerable and trusting and open and he knew it was way too early for words as strong as these, but he was falling, he’s falling hard and fast and all he could think was I love you.

So instead he made a stupid joke. The type that you would only find even the slightest bit funny if you had been awake for over a day and now found yourself in a situation where time moved like sticky sweet syrup, where urgency had never bothered to be invented, where you’re so drunk on intimacy and love you can barely see what’s ahead of you, and honestly, in that moment, in the moment where nothing else exists and it feels like the world was made for you and for them and for you to be together in that moment, you can’t care that you can’t see what’s looming ahead.

“Casino’s are like… fairgrounds for adults. With greater consequences,” Steve wasn’t sure if the sentence even makes sense, but Tony giggled and he found that he couldn’t care for grammatical structure and other such follies.

“America’s playground,” Tony mumbled, far more interested in pressing feather-light kisses to Steve’s jaw, tender and loving. Maybe, Steve let himself think, let himself hope that he felt it too. Hard and fast and damned foolish.

#steve rogers x tony stark #stevetony #superhusbands #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands fic #steve rogers #tony stark #my fic #my writing #steve rogers/tony stark #i must say i am really vibing the rusty/danny nat/steve comparison the wordless communication between them was one of my #favourite scenes between them in the fim #the non verbal communication! the inherent closeness and being known!#anything this was meant to be posted like 10 hrs ago when i posted it on ao3 but then my laptop died kdsjfghkdfjg #*mine

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kenzieam · 4 years

Text

Linked - Chapter Two

Rating: M (smut, language, mature themes, potential major character death)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @lancefvckertvcker-blog @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @wowspideyholland @smilexcaptainx@shirukitsune @chook007 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

If you want to be removed or I’ve missed tagging you, let me know!

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Bucky and Levi find themselves connected through tragedy, can they let go of the past to find their future????

*******************************************************************

I have not added to this since last September, shame on me!! Reread Chapter One here and let me know if I should continue with the story.

*******************************************************************

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? The voice in Bucky’s head screamed. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY NO! DANGER, DANGER! You don’t want to get involved with this! She doesn’t want you; YOUR WIFE KILLED HER HUSBAND... HER HUSBAND KILLED YOUR WIFE. WALK AWAY!

His mind was screaming loud enough that it wouldn’t surprise Bucky if Levi could actually hear his thoughts and he winced internally as he caught sight of her hand, clutching white-knuckle tight to her messenger bag.

Shit.

Despite his misgivings, Bucky nevertheless sat at the table the hostess indicated, pausing awkwardly as he debated holding out Levi’s chair for her. She sat quickly, however, as if expecting him to offer and not wanting it. King clamored into his own chair; reaching for a menu, asking for a chocolate milk and maintaining a rundown of the best parts of their game all at the same time and Bucky couldn’t hide a smile. He would rather rip his tongue out by the roots than admit it, especially in his present company, but King had become very precious to him in a short amount of time and he very much looked forwards to seeing the little guy. Maria had been totally against the subject of children, but Bucky had always wanted to be a dad. He needed to be careful though, he knew, for this was a minefield he wasn’t sure he would ever be either ready or able to walk through.

“What do you want, Coach? I want pizza!”

“King, keep it down.” Levi chastised gently.

“Sorry, mom.”

“It’s alright, just use your inside voice, okay?”

“Okay.”

Levi’s eyes flicked unwillingly towards him. “What do you want, Mr. Barnes?” She asked softly, sounding nervous.

Jesus, doll. You. “Call me Bucky, please. Pizza sounds good...?” Bucky offered shyly.

Pizza safely ordered (half-pepperoni, half-Hawaiian – gross, mom!), Bucky cleared his throat and asked tentatively, his heart hammering in fear. “How are you liking it here so far?”

Levi looked startled for a micro-second before answering. “It’s nice. I met Nat and Steve right away, so that made everything so much easier, I-” a loud chime interrupted her, and she flushed. “Sorry.”

Bucky watched as Levi reached down and rustled in her messenger bag, pulling out a tablet and tapping quickly at it before tucking it back inside.

“Sorry about that,” she repeated. “That was a client.”

“What do you do?” Bucky blurted, his nerves loosening his tongue. “Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s alright. I’m a graphic designer; but lately I’ve been designing a lot of book covers.”

“Like novels?”

“Yeah, just small time. First-time authors, independents, people that haven’t really made it big yet.”

“How does that work?”

Levi flushed, glancing down at her glass before answering, her fingers toyed with the condensation forming at the base, drawing small but enchanting patterns. “I’m compiling a catalogue of images and pictures of subjects; I snagged some professional editing software a while ago and can manipulate a stock image fairly realistically. Some are live models, others are no-license. The client emails me what they’re looking for, I make something up and send them a few choices; it’s fairly straightforward really.”

“Live models... like pictures of real guys, like Fabio?”

Levi giggled, a sound that arrowed straight into Bucky’s heart. “Not that famous, but a few wannabe models have let me take their picture, usually in exchange for a series of headshots. They get their portfolio; I get a few brooding pics.”

“Shirtless?” Bucky wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but the idea intrigued him.

“Yes, mostly. Why, are you volunteering?” Levi snapped her mouth shut in shock. What the fuck is gotten into you?

Now Bucky flushed, eyes flicking to Levi’s for a heartbeat; a shy grin pulling at his mouth and the sight arrowed straight into Levi’s heart. “Think I’d make it?”

Fuck, yeah. But I don’t want to share. "I think you’d do. Romance readers love a dark and handsome mystery.”

“You think I’m handsome?” Bucky teased, loving the way Levi’s face went so adorably red, her amethyst eyes widening as she realized her slip.

Finally, the universe took pity; Levi was saved from answering by the arrival of their pizza and King’s triumphant shout.

The next few minutes were spent eating, King devouring his slice with typical 5-year-old gusto.

“How do you like coaching so far?” Levi asked, wiping tomato sauce from her bottom lip, something Bucky suddenly and desperately wanted to do with his tongue.

Bucky struggled to focus on her question and not her plump lips and what they would look like wrapped around his cock.

What the fuck, dude???

“A lot actually. I didn’t expect to, honestly; I was just going to help Steve out a bit. I played soccer in high school and a bit for my university team, so I guess he figured I knew what I was doing.”

“You played for your university? You must have been good.”

Bucky flushed. “Yeah,” he hedged, unsure whether he should mention that he had already been drafted in the pros. “But I busted up my knee pretty bad and decided to get out.”

“That must have sucked.” Lev offered quietly, looking surprisingly upset at the news.

Bucky nodded, clearing his throat. “I lucked out with a good surgeon. I signed up for the military and, after a couple of tours I got out and into security. Mostly I just consult now.”

“Is that how you met Steve?”

Bucky couldn’t stop a wide smile. “Yeah, he wanted me to review and streamline the security system for his business.” He hesitated before adding, “I was always pretty mobile with that anyways, consulting all over the country, sometimes the world. I didn’t need to stay in one place, so... it made it easier when I decided to move… after-”. He broke off, Levi would know exactly what he meant without him spelling it out.

“Yes.” Came her quiet reply. “I understand... About that, did you ever-”

“No.” Bucky kept his voice gentle even as his heart raced. “Not now, please.”

Levi nodded shyly, her cheeks going pink. King had fallen silent, looking between the two adults, puzzled.

“What’s going on?” He asked, a pizza slice forgotten in his hand.

Levi sent Bucky a beseeching look. She’d not told King who Bucky was. At most, he knew that his coach’s wife had died, but he didn’t know that she’d taken his father with her.

“Nothing, buddy.” Bucky grinned in King’s direction, but Levi could see the faint tightening at the corners of his eyes. Fortunately, King, who was uncannily observant, even for a child, took Bucky’s lie at face value and happily tucked back into his pizza.

‘Sorry,’ Levi mouthed, and Bucky shook his head gently, returning quietly to his pizza.

Lev refused to let Bucky pay for full bill, insisting on half and completely crushing any thoughts that this had been anything but an entirely platonic meal.

But, whether by luck or serendipity, they found themselves again at May’s after the next game, sharing a table due to King’s enthusiastic ‘Coach! Sit with us!’ that he’d bellowed across the room.

The third time was planned, and Levi felt herself almost ashamed at how much she began to look forward to aftergame pizza with Coach Barnes.

*****************************************************************

King ran ahead, hollering at the top of his lungs to his teammates, who shouted and yelled back. Levi followed behind, trudging really, she’d not gotten much sleep last night, and stumbled, biting back a surprised squawk, when a soccer ball connected suddenly with her temple. She staggered, clutching at her head but the ball hadn’t been flying with too much force and it had startled her more than anything else.

“Hey!” Bucky appeared like magic, the offending ball in his hands. He touched her shoulder, peering into her face with concern. “You okay?”

Lev nodded, not wanting to make a scene, she probably could have avoided being hit if she’d been more cognizant of the field, but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“Fucking Seymour. I’ll handle this.” He marched over to the nearby group of players and spoke in low, furious tones to them, starting in on their coach, obviously the maligned Seymour, when he bumbled over, trying to cover up the fact that he’d been too busy playing Candy Crush on his phone to monitor his players.

Lev continued walking, almost scurrying, picking up speed to avoid any other flying missiles and sat gratefully on her usual spot at the bleachers. Her eyes drifted to find Bucky,he was still speaking to the other coach and it was starting to look heated, but then Bucky took a visible deep breath and stepped back, obviously pulling himself away before things got out of hand. His eyes searched for her and he exhaled noticeably once he found her, moving unerringly to her side, concern evident on his handsome face.

“You okay?” He murmured, reaching up to brush where the ball had connected. His touch left goosebumps in its wake and Lev hissed at the contact, at the tingle of energy that frizzled between his fingertips and her skin. He seemed to feel it too, eyes widening slightly and pulled his hand away, not fully dropping it, gaze searching hers. “Lev?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, I should have been paying attention-” Levi ducked her head.

“Not your fault.” He retorted curtly. “Wayne Seymour needs to be watching his players better.” He visibly exhaled out his mounting irritation and leaned down to meet her eyes again. His brows drew together in question and he looked so startingly puppy-dog at that moment that Lev forgot how to breathe.

“James, I’m fine.”

His brows jumped slightly, nobody called him by his given name, he always corrected them and told them to call him Bucky, but hearing Lev say it made something inside him sit up and pay attention. Reluctantly, he drew away; he had to start coaching but right now he wanted nothing more than to stay beside her.

His hand, drifting without official orders, rested lightly on her knee for a beat before he pulled it away, startled by his actions. It wouldn’t do for the coach to be seen touching one of the player’s moms, but his hand suddenly ached as it was drawn away, tingling to touch her again.

“Pizza tonight?” He asked, stumbling over his words.

Lev studied him for a beat, her cheeks going adorably red. “We’ll see you there.” She replied softly.

***************************************************************

“Coach, can you come to my party?!” King asked excitedly, bouncing in his chair like it was a small trampoline.

Bucky took the empty chair at the table, mouthing a ‘Hey’ to Lev before focusing on King. “What’s that, Little Man?” He’d heard King babbling something about this during drills earlier, but he’d still been so caught up in Levi being hit that he hadn’t paid much attention.

“My birthday!”

Lev hushed King with a low shushing sound. “His sixth birthday, I’m planning a small get-together this weekend; King’s teammates, some school friends and their parents. You’re certainly invited, can you make it?”

“Of course.” He grinned down at King. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Yay!!”

“Kingston Sebastian Riel!” Levi hissed. “Tone it down.”

“Sebastian?”

“His father and I couldn’t agree. Brock wanted Kingston, I wanted Sebastian. We ‘compromised’.” She made air quotes with her fingers.

“I love that name.” Bucky smiled. That had been his name, whenever he’d indulged in picturing having children with Maria, naming his son ‘Sebastian Barnes’.

“I don’t need to use it very often; King usually knows how to behave in restaurants.” Lev replied, eyeing her son.

“Sorry, mom. Sorry, Coach.”

Lev’s serious demeanor broke and she ruffled his hair. “Inside voice, remember. I know you’re excited but we’re not the only people here, right?”

“Yes, mom.”

Bucky gazed at Lev while pretending to peruse the menu. She wasn’t like some of the other mothers out there, that let their kids get away with murder, ignored the little darlings as they ran around screaming and disturbing people, getting in screaming matches with bystanders that told her to rein in her offspring. She loved her son, that was obvious, and she loved him enough to actually parent him. That distinction mattered to Bucky, something that he probably would have argued with Maria about, had she ever agreed to having children. She had been raised to believe herself always correct, her parents always backing her, no matter if she was right or wrong in any situation, and it had chafed Bucky at times; something he found he could reflect back on now, with time, although with no less diminished guilt at remembering your dead spouse as anything but an absolute water-walking saint.

“Mom, I have to go to the bathroom.” King announced. When Lev moved to stand, he continued. “I can go myself.”

Lev looked torn, then nodded slowly. “Wash your hands.”

King nodded once then disappeared.

“What can I bring?” Bucky asked.

“Sorry, what?” Lev pulled her attention away from the direction King had gone, focusing back on Bucky.

“What can I bring to King’s party?”

“Oh,” Lev cleared her throat, thinking for a moment. “Beer? If you want to drink any, I don’t have a lot hanging around and… I’m not sure how many are coming, but maybe a chair too. The backyard is pretty big and there should be room, but you never know.”

“Any food?”

“No, thank you. I’ve got it.” Lev’s lips curled in a small smile and Bucky wasn’t surprised to feel his heart skip suddenly in his chest. This had been happening more and more around her and he was losing the strength to fight it.

“What does the Little Man want?”

“You don’t need-”

“I want to.”

Lev chewed her bottom lip before answering. “He talks a lot about some ‘Ronaldo’ guy?”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ve heard him during practices. Cristiano Ronaldo, he’s a famous Portuguese soccer player. Think he’d like a jersey?”

“He’d probably never take it off. But James, seriously-”

Bucky leaned forwards suddenly, resting his hand onto of Levi’s and startling her silent. “Please. I’d like to.” A little awkwardly, he pulled his hand back, straightening slowly in his chair, cheeks heating.

“Do you have any children, James?” She asked, abruptly but not unkindly.

“No.”

“Did you ever want any?”

Bucky traced the edge of his glass, staring hard at the liquid inside. This seemed both an insanely private question to ask, but also one he didn’t mind answering, at least for her. “Yes. Maria-”

“I’m back!” King announced, as if he’d trekked to Papua New Guinea and was just now arriving home, footsore and weary from outrunning cannibals.

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Yes, mom.”

A part of Bucky was insanely grateful when the pizza arrived moments later, and he was saved from further discussion of children he’d wanted but never had the chance to have.

*****************************************************************

Lev opened the door, a slight look of panic on her face and smiled widely when she saw who it was.

“Bucky, hey! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

He’d thought about it; for some reason, after their last pizza ‘date’, he’d spiraled down into a dark shame, one he’d not felt since those early months immediately after Maria’s death. It must have been because of Lev’s question, harmless as it was for someone you could consider a friend, someone you shared dinner with on the semi-regular now, to ask; but it had triggered something inside him, a buried guilt, a hidden tangle of emotions he’d been too afraid to grab and study up close, but King meant too much to him to bail and, if he was being honest with himself, Levi did too.

“Sorry I’m late-”

“No, it’s fine! I’m just a little-… I haven’t had a get-together like this since before…” She broke off, cheeks going pink and Bucky knew immediately what she meant, how she felt.

“Here, let me take that-” Bucky reached for the bags of chips grasped tightly in her fingers but she pulled away.

“No, thank you, it’s fine. You’ve got your hands full too.” She said, jerking her chin at the six-pack of beer and folded lawn-chair taking up most of his hands. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, gifting Bucky with a genuine smile. “Thank you for coming, I’m glad you’re here; and King’s going to go crazy.”

Their eyes met and held for a heartbeat and something warm flashed in Lev’s gaze, something that matched the tentative eagerness burning low in Bucky’s chest.

“C’mon in.” Levi shook herself slightly, as if breaking out of a trance and smiled a bit nervously. “I’ll be right out, just head on through the kitchen and out the back door. Everyone’s out there, you’ll see Steve and Nat right away.”

“Okay, thanks.” Bucky tried not to look as Levi sashayed in front of him, unaware of how the natural sway of her hips made adult thoughts flood his mind. Maria had not had curves like this, she’d been almost fanatical about calorie counting and restriction, resulting in a toned but unwelcomely bony body under Bucky’s caresses, but Lev was curvy, deliciously so, in all the right places. He didn’t mean to compare, but Maria had lamented to him many times about all the squats and lunges she did and how she still never achieved an ass even close to what Lev seemed to have naturally. His hands ached to touch her soft skin, trace her delicate lines and supple curves, lose himself in her feminine body.

A chorus of greetings hit him as he stepped outside and Steve launched himself at him, tearing Bucky from his musing as he prepared to collide against a brick wall, reaching Bucky in about two bounds; half-dragging him towards where he and Nat were seated, managing to yank the beer from his hands, open Bucky’s chair, push him to sit in it and slap him on the shoulder all at the same time.

A lot of the parents and kids Bucky realized he knew, mostly from soccer, and Nat and Steve introduced him to the rest. Most of the kids were screaming like banshees in a large bouncy castle set up in the corner of the yard, while others ran around holding all sorts of toy, shrieking at each other at the top of their little lungs.

Two tousled heads of hair, one chocolate brown, the other blond suddenly appeared at Bucky’s side, waving foam swords and screeching his name. It took Bucky a moment to recognize Steve’s boy, Hunter, and King, and then King was scrambling into his lap like a puppy, narrowly missing his balls.

“Coach! COACH!” He bellowed, as if Bucky were miles away across a shadowy moor and they were reduced to using only their voices for communication.

“Hey, Little Man.” Bucky leaned back from the dangerously waving weapon, thighs tensed to protect his jewels. He caught Steve’s smirk at his situation but then Hunter decided to do the same, leaping into Steve’s lap with the same reckless enthusiasm as King and Steve was suddenly too preoccupied trying to protect his own nads from destruction.

“You came to my party!”

“Yeah, buddy. I did.”

Grubby hands unexpectedly wrapped around his neck and Bucky suddenly didn’t care about anything else. Wrapping his arms around King, he basked in the little boy’s enthusiasm, the fondness for this child he’d held in his chest sharpening into something far more profound and intense.

When King finally scrambled back down and bounded away to rejoin his gang of rabble-rousers; Steve, who’d managed to detach his own son and send him on his criminal way as well, slapped his shoulder and grinned widely at him, making Bucky’s cheeks go pink.

Other parents eyed him with small smiles as well, making Bucky clear his throat self-consciously, and then Lev was back, falling into the empty chair beside Bucky with a laugh and a groan and his attention was immediately diverted, pulse beating just a little bit harder as he caught a hint of her scent; reminding him of sunshine and meadows of beautiful wildflowers.

Lev seemed more relaxed and a small, fleeting part of Bucky hoped it was because of him, but he pushed the thought away quickly. He couldn’t feed this wolf anymore; he couldn’t keep up with this idea that there was something between him and Lev. They were joined by tragedy, united by death and that was as far as it should go.

But if that was the way it was supposed to be, why was he so drawn to her? To her son? Why had he found his thoughts turning more and more to them, rushing into his mind first thing in the morning, the last scene to play in front of his eyes before he closed them at night?

Why, if this wasn’t ever supposed to be his, did he want it so badly?

Despite his turmoiled mind, there was enough going on in the backyard for him to push it aside, at least pretend it wasn’t gnawing insidiously at his brain and Bucky was surprised when he started to enjoy himself. He had avoided large crowds, big gatherings, since Maria’s death and had never truly been a social butterfly of his wife’s caliber anyway but, before he realized it, a few hours had passed and even the kids were starting to wind down.

King had looked adorable, pink-cheeked and grinning, as he sat in front of his cake, blowing out the candles with not too much spit thankfully, when his guests had finished singing. Some friend of Nat and Lev’s had made it, and had tasted surprisingly good, although the almost neon icing had taken more than a few hard sucks to completely pull the stain from your fingers.

Each present had been worth a cacophony of yells from both the birthday boy and his guests, but it had been the last one, Bucky’s gift that seemed to have the showstopper. When King had opened the gift bag and pulled out the pint-sized Ronaldo jersey, his eyes had gone huge and, when Lev had leaned over, murmuring to him who it was from, the little boy’s eyes had searched the crowd for Bucky and he’d scrambled from his chair to launch himself at him, crashing into his arms with a howl of pure excited glee.

“Thank you!” As fast as he’d landed in Bucky’s lap, King had again scrambled away, tearing off his shirt to yank on the jersey before snatching the new soccer ball from Uncle Steve and Aunty Nat and scampering away, leading a whole posse of screaming kids behind him

“Good job, man.” Steve murmured, leaning over to Bucky’s ear.

King had then bounded up to him, begging him and Uncle Steve to come play soccer with him and Hunter, and that had taken up Bucky’s attention until Lev called a game over and Bucky had finally looked around, realizing that almost everyone was gone.

“Mom. MOM?!” Hunter bellowed, running up to Nat. “Can King stay over? PLEASE?” He grabbed onto Nat’s shirt and tilted his head up, sending her an angelic look that left no doubt as to who his father was. Steve had used that same pleading puppy-dog look on Bucky last weekend when he’d begged him to help move an obnoxiously heavy fridge from his garage to the dump.

Nat glanced up at Lev, brow raised, and Lev smiled, shrugging. “If you think you can handle both little monsters tonight, go ahead.”

“Get your stuff, buddy.” Nat grinned.

“YAY!!” Both boys screamed, dashing into the house, barely avoiding a crash as they both tried to fit through the doorway into the house at the same time.

Bucky hovered, knowing he should be leaving but not able to muster the energy. He wanted to stay, even a bit longer and so far no one had zeroed in on him and demanded to know what he was still doing here. He watched with a fond smile as the boys reappeared, carrying an assortment of varied weapons and miscellany and shooting at each other with small Nerf guns.

“Did you pack any clothes?” Lev asked dryly, snagging King by the back of his shirt as he scampered by. He was still wearing the Ronaldo jersey.

“Clothes?” King asked, confused, peering up at his mother as if she’d suddenly started speaking a new language and Lev smirked. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“Have fun today?” Nat asked Bucky innocently, stepping over to lean her back against Steve’s chest, who immediately wrapped his arms around her and dropped his chin to rest on the top of her head as he too awaited Bucky’s answer, a cat that got the canary grin on his big stupid face.

“Yeah, didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Insane?” Steve suggested.

“Loud.” Bucky finished. “I should know better, coaching half of them but still…”

“You’ll get used to it.” Nat replied, a knowing gleam in her eyes that made Bucky frown in confusion at her. Steve mumbled something in her ear, brow furrowed, and she just giggled, pressing a kiss to his chin and whispering back.

Lev reappeared, carrying a small backpack shaped like a Stegosaurus and called King to her. He skipped up, becoming serious when Lev dropped to one knee and gripped his upper arms gently, whispering earnestly and probably telling him to behave tonight. After a moment, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and the boy made a show of squirming away and wiping at his face, but the delighted grin on his face showed his true feelings.

A few minutes later, both yelling boys had been herded into the SUV and Bucky found himself standing alone beside Lev, waving as Steve and Nat backed out of the driveway and drove off with a honk.

“I should go.” Bucky mumbled, wanting to do anything but. He’d been spared any comments by Steve and Nat as they’d bundled the boys into the vehicle, but that didn’t mean he’d be safe later from any ‘observations’ they’d make of how he’d stayed later than them.

“NO,” Lev’s cheeks went pink “I mean…. stay for a bit, please. Today was so crazy we didn’t get any real chance to talk-” She trailed off uncertainly, her cheeks full on red now, matching the heat in Bucky’s face.

Twist my rubber arm, doll.

“Sure, okay.” He exhaled a little shakily, timidly, lips curving into a smile at Lev’s delighted grin.

“Go grab a seat, I’ll be right back.”

Bucky nodded, venturing into the backyard and sitting on the high-backed bench closest to the freestanding patio heater. The warm glow was comforting against the beginnings of twilight chill, while a firepit squatted nearby, ready to be lit as well.

Levi returned a few minutes later, carrying two bottles of beer and a blanket under one arm; then, after the briefest pause to peruse seating, plunked down on the same bench with Bucky and handed him a bottle.

“Here, try this.” She grinned. “An old friend of mine got me started on these oatmeal stouts; I didn’t have enough to go around.” She pulled the blanket between them. “Cold?”

Bucky gestured with his chin to the heater. “Nah, I’m good.”

Lev smiled, turning to face him and pulling her feet up to sit cross-legged. She squirmed for a moment to adjust the cushion at her back then opened the blanket to lay over her lap and settled back with a sigh.

“Thank you for staying.” She said quietly. “It’s nice to just sit down for a few minutes.”

“No problem.” Bucky mumbled, hiding his please grin behind another swallow. “This is good.” He nodded to the sweating bottle in his hand.

“I know, right?” Lev smiled, then fell silent, regarding him quietly long enough that Bucky felt the urge to start squirming in discomfort. “How are you doing?” She asked gently and Bucky knew immediately what she was referring to.

“Getting better.” He replied, his voice low. “Having work and the team to coach definitely helps. You?”

Lev nodded, then swallowed, looking suddenly uncomfortable herself. She glanced up at Bucky from under long lashes, looking surprisingly anxious. “I uh…” she cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t let you think the wrong thing about me and Brock, we…” she broke off, picking anxiously at a cuticle.

Bucky’s brow furrowed in confusion as he waited quietly.

“We weren’t like you and Maria, we weren’t… forever.” she finally continued, looking ashamed. “I was… I had divorce papers drawn up, I was ready to give them to Brock, but then he…”

Bucky stared for a moment, stunned. A thousand thoughts suddenly racing through his head. A small, secret little part of him rejoiced; Levi had been ready to leave her husband, akin to available, before his death. She’d already been looking to move on.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, knowing his words were totally inadequate and also, not truthful.

“No, it’s fine. We weren’t working out. I… I was young and stupid and thought the college boy I fell in love with would change, grow up with me. He wasn’t a bad guy, we just…. I was hopeful and naïve, and I forgave a lot.”

Anger burned low in Bucky’s chest; what had Levi been forced to ‘forgive’?

“It’s not stupid,” he began and, at Lev’s confused brow lift, continued. “Hoping someone will grow up, most people do.”

“I’m happy he’s gone.” She whispered in a rush then clapped her hand over her mouth, mortified. “I don’t mean it like that,” her eyes were huge. “I just…. It’s extreme yes, but… I don’t have to deal with him anymore, try and work with him over custody of King or anything.”

Bucky nodded, reaching over to squeeze her knee. “I understand, it’s alright.”

Lev wiped at her cheeks. “I mean, he would have fought me on everything, just to be a dick.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, but thankfully Bucky’s words seemed to have mollified her guilt. He never would believe she’d truly meant she was happy Brock was dead, she wasn’t that type of person, even if a small, secret part of Bucky was.

“How’s King doing, if I can ask that?”

Lev nodded. “No, it’s fine, you can ask. He’s… surprisingly good, actually. Brock was never really in his face anyway, never really a hands-on dad, so there wasn’t much to miss.”

“He didn’t help out?”

Levi shook her head, her tears finally stopping. “No. Not when King was a baby waking up all night hungry, or teething, never. He… I don’t know, he looked at King like an accessory or something. An object to compare to his friend’s kids. He didn’t like that King couldn’t walk as fast as his friend’s boy, or that he wasn’t using full sentences as soon as his boss’ daughter. Never mind that they weren’t the same age, King was never good enough for him, he was always pushing him to do more and… sooner rather than later it would have started to mess with his head, make him think there was something wrong with him when there’s not.”

Rage burned low in Bucky’s chest, a whole new facet of hatred for Rumslow. What kind of man treated his wife and kid that way? King was an incredible little boy, smart and articulate, kind and funny. Bucky knew he’d be proud to call King his own.

“I feel so guilty.” Levi whispered, the tears returning. She dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t regret having King at all, and I will always be grateful to Brock for giving me him, but…. What was I thinking? Bringing a child into that type of environment?” She shuddered. “Right up until King was born I hoped my pregnancy would trigger something in him, some switch would flip and he’d stop being such a frat boy, start paying attention to me and my wants, and the baby he’d helped make. But he didn’t, he wouldn’t.” Her voice broke and Bucky stopped thinking about what was right and proper in this situation.

Setting down his beer he scooted towards her, drawing Levi into his arms. She clung to him with surprising desperation, burying her face in his throat and, if the timing weren’t so gloomy, he probably would have groaned at the sensation, at the shiver of delight that shot up his spine.

“Hey,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair and closing his eyes, indulging in a heartbeat’s length of adoring the feel of her so close to him. “Hey, stop thinking that. You’re not a bad person, you’re not a bad mom; all that shit, that’s on him; it’s not your fault. He sounds like a total asshole, who wouldn’t love King? He’s such a special little man. Shit, I would’ve-” he broke off, suddenly dangerously close to unsteady ground, that minefield he’d worried about stepping through.

Lev went still in his arms and he could feel her desire to ask him to elaborate, to explain what he’d been about to say.

Shit, I would’ve treated you and King like the treasures you are, I never would have taken you for granted that way.

Levi raised her head; eyes glittering with tears and searched his face. Bucky gazed back down at her, dangerously close to letting everything he was fighting so hard not to feel flood his eyes. Her eyes dropped to his lips for a heartbeat, then back up to his eyes and time stood still.

Fighting himself every inch of the way, Bucky slowly lowered his head, searching Lev’s gaze for permission, some hint that she either wanted this or suddenly was coming to her senses and wanted to stop; but she never wavered and, as their lips touched in a sweet and tentative way, her lids fluttered shut in relief and Bucky let his own fall closed, warmth flooding his body.

Desire raged hot and hard in Bucky, demanding more but he kept the kiss light and gentle, a shy exploration of each other’s mouths, the taste of stout still on their tongues as he slicked his along her bottom lip then plunged gently inside as she parted her mouth for him, a sweet moan rising in her throat.

Pulling back, easily one of the most difficult things Bucky had ever done, he rested his forehead to hers, fighting to calm his breathing, to control his body from all but attacking her.

Lev panted with him, fingers curling against his shirt then one tentative hand reached up to cup his face, rasping against the stubble and he leaned into her touch, letting out a low groan.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, each word burning like acid. “I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay.” She breathed back.

“I… we need to-” He couldn’t force the words and so he acted instead, pushing gently away from Levi and returning to his end of the bench. He shivered at the loss of her body, her heat, against him and Lev watched him for a moment, multiple emotions warring in her eyes.

Part of Bucky hoped she stayed over there, while a bigger part wanted her to close the distance again.

Finally, she relaxed her shoulders and managed a shy smile, then unfolded the blanket to its full size and offered him one side. Bucky accepted, draping the cover over his shoulders, allowing himself this substitution. They shouldn’t be crawling all over each other, kissing, but they could share this blanket, that was bashfully intimate as well and far more the speed they should be going if they did plan on seeing where this went.

Levi settled back against the bench, turning to face forwards. There was space between them now, so much that it would difficult to lean over and nudge the other with their shoulder, but close enough that, if one dared, they could hold hands under the blanket.

For a time they were silent, gazing at the emerging stars, or the muted red glow of the patio heater, listening to the sporadic sounds of life around them, the occasional vehicle, owl hoot or dog bark but then Lev exhaled slowly and spoke, her voice hesitant.

“We were interrupted at dinner, but I asked if you ever wanted children. I don’t want to pry, but-”

“No, its fine.” Lev had bared enough of her wounds tonight, it was time for him to disclose a scar or two. “I did… I do. But Maria wasn’t interested… ever. It wasn’t a big deal when we got together but… as time passed, seeing friends have babies and stuff, I started to think about it more and more. I…” He trailed off, studying his hands knotted together, fingers twisting. “I kept putting it off, really talking about it with her though. It was obvious what she felt, she’d never babysat as a teenager, she never offered to hold any of our friend’s babies, even if I was always asking, just to feel that little bundle, that tiny weight in my arms; I’d test the waters, and hint and stuff, but she would always laugh and be like ‘no way’ and I just… let it go until there was no more time.”

“She never would have?”

Bucky considered a moment. “No, I don’t think so. One of the things I always loved about Maria was her conviction, even if it was against me. No meant no to her, every time.”

Levi gazed at Bucky silently, but he kept his gaze down. He wasn’t ready to show her, she wasn’t ready to see, the emotions crashing through his eyes right now. Finally, he found the strength to say what had been nibbling at the corners of his mind for some time now, a hard truth that had come with hindsight and miserable evaluation during long, sleepless nights, something he’d never even voiced out loud before, not ever really examined up close, just knew deep down, no matter how hard it was to acknowledge verbally.

“I think…. It would have been the issue that pushed us apart eventually… if she hadn’t died.”

He heard her breath catch but was too scared to look over and squeezed his eyes shut, praying that Lev didn’t show kindness right now, some form of acceptance for his stark confession, maybe reach over to touch him, or whisper sweet words, because he was too raw, too open right now for it to do anything but agonize.

“I’m sorry.” She finally murmured, barely audible but he heard her in the silence, felt the pain all the same.

Me too.

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