#tony and steve arguing like a married couple | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

carsonian · 10 months

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12. things you said when you thought I was asleep for stevetony prompts 🥰

Jennnn I'm so sorry this ended up a billion words longer than you probably wanted it but I hope you still like it??? Thank you so much for the brill prompt xx

Be Their Own Star Witness on AO3 | 9,021 words | Rated M

“You shouldn’t have eaten that last fucking donut.” Tony whispered in a menacing tone, and Steve did his best not to erupt into laughter right there and then.

Two months into wedding preparations, they’d made a pact to not have any arguments with each other. They’d seen too many couples ruin their relationship by making opposing stances on filigree known, or well, Steve had read about too many couples ruining their relationship over wedding preparations when he’d been browsing pros and cons of different wedding venues on Reddit.

(Beaches were apparently hell on suits. Tony had made a very pouty face over not getting to use the beach near his house in Dubai, but he’d conceded when Steve painted a very pretty picture of what champagne and sand would look like together.)

The pact was almost instantly difficult. They were both very opinionated people by nature, and, as their friend group could easily and maybe too eagerly attest, one of their primary love languages was bickering. Old married couple bickering. For God’s sake, they’d gotten engaged because Tony’s brain had picked up on Natasha calling them an “old married couple” one too many times, and while the man still refused point-black to the first part—

(“—We’re thirty-four, Nat,” Tony sniffed, “That’s not ol—”

“I’m thirty-one.” Steve pointed out.

“Oh, yeah?” Tony turned away from Natasha to sneer at him, “What’re you doing out of the cradle then, you big baby?”

“Exploring the great unknown,” Steve shot back, “How’d you dig your way out of the grave, old man?”

“Like a worm. The fastest, wriggliest worm you ever did see. . .speaking of. . .”)

—well, case in point.

(Yes, Steve would still love Tony if he were a worm.)

Anyway, it had taken about six days before Tony started confessing his daily grievances to Steve at night, when he figured Steve was asleep. To his credit, Steve had been mostly asleep the first two times he’d heard Tony going off, having assumed that Tony was just talking to himself as he was wont to do. But then, he’d caught the word “peonies” and realised Tony was recanting his earlier affirmation and saying that he in fact did not like white peonies and thought it was rather bland of Steve to even consider it.

A few days later, Steve had casually suggested to their wedding planner, a stern old woman by the name of Mrs. Arbogast, to look for more unorthodox flowers. When she’d shown up to their next meeting with a protea pin, Tony had perked right up while being none-the-wiser to Steve cataloguing his perkiness.

Steve had swiftly realised that this new pillow talk may actually work in their favour and began staying up long enough to hear Tony complain about whatever they’d signed off or done that day. While the original pact had been to just not argue about the wedding preparations, it felt like they rarely argued about anything deeply these days; so much of their life was work, and then wedding prep, work and occasionally sex, and then wedding prep again. So, it was nice to get his own fix of Tony at a time when it felt like they didn’t ever get a minute to talk about nothing, and doubly nice because Steve could make Tony happier without the man needing to ask for it.

He had his limits, sure—he refused, on his fucking doctorate, he refused to have the wedding cake be a life-size recreation of them—and not just because it would be a hell of a lot of fondant but because it was fucking tacky, Tony. Jesus.

Most of the time though, the things Tony was holding back on weren’t hard concessions at all. Like flowers. Like not wanting to invite anyone from the board. Like wanting both Rhodey and Bucky to get a best man speech.

And then, there were other times when Steve would be waiting solemnly for Tony’s opinion on DUM-E doing the ring-bearing and instead he’d just get—

“I mean, you know I’m fucking watching my weight because unlike you, I don’t have the time or inclination to work out two hours a day.” Tony continued, “And yet! And yet you flaunted that donut with rainbow sprinkles in front of me, you goddamn bitch. What happened to pride month? What happened to “together”, huh? What happened to “Tony, I’ll support you no matter what,”? That was the opposite of supportive, that was—you are on thin fucking icing, babe. Thin fucking icing.”

Steve could not have been happier about having his back to Tony. As discreetly as he could, he brought his hand up to cover his mouth, fervently trying to keep his laughter in.

A moment later, he heard Tony sigh and shift in bed. When he spoke up again, it was quieter, more sincere.

“I better get a donut at my wedding. Just sayin’.”

Oh—now, that. That Steve could arrange.

“Hi,” Steve greeted as he walked in, whipping off his tie with one hand, “I’m so sorry I’m late. Just give me five minutes to change?”

“Yeah, no rush.” Tony was at the kitchenette, tapping away on his laptop, “Mrs. Arbogast had a doctor’s appointment so she’s running late as well.”

“Oh, bliss.” Steve dropped his keys off in the fruit bowl and made his way over to the kitchen to drop a kiss on Tony’s temple, “All good?”

“Mm-hmm.” Tony flitted a distracted look at him, “You best change quick though.”

“Reckon I can get a shower in?” Steve asked.

“Mmm.” Tony made a contemplative noise, bringing a hand up to rub at the corner of his mouth. It brought to light the golden ring sitting snug on his finger. The novelty of the sight still made something proud hum in Steve, and he fell to the urge of bringing that hand to his own lips, kissing it lightly.

He felt Tony’s eyes track the movement and when he looked up at him, Tony was giving him a smile filled with content warmth.

“Go ahead.” Tony said, “Your showers are a five-minute affair, anyway.”

“Yeah, when I don’t have you distracting me.” Steve said.

“Oh, puh-lease.” Tony said, voice still an ooey-gooey traitor of his affection, “I didn’t hear you complaining about it last—what was it, Wednesday?”

“Baby,” Steve huffed in amusement, “I ain’t complaining now, either.”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed a little as he retracked the conversation, “Huh, true.”

“I’ll be down in eight-ish.” Steve said, squeezing Tony’s enclosed palm one last time before straightening.

“Want me to heat up a quesadilla for you?” Tony asked.

“Fuck,” Steve pointed a finger at him, “I’m a fucking genius for marrying you.”

He carried Tony’s laugh with him up the stairs.

“Wedding invites.”

“Oh no,” Tony teased, “Shit’s getting serious. Last chance to back out.”

It had been Tony’s go-to joke since they’d started planning the wedding and Steve’s mouth twisted in a half-smile as he rallied with his go-to response:

“Not a chance.”

“Language, Anthony.” Mrs. Arbogast admonished lightly, and they both straightened as they turned to her.

“Sorry, Mrs. Arbogast.” Tony said, and Steve held back his own cheeky smile. He still wasn’t sure why Tony had insisted on employing the same wedding planner that had organised Howard and Maria’s wedding but then again, it had seemed to make Maria very happy so maybe he did know. Tony was a real mama’s boy.

“I was thinking of something elegant, understated.” Mrs. Arbogast pulled out a few templates, “See, here? But . . .” And at that point, the grey-haired titan gave Tony a narrow look, “I know Anthony and his preferences, so I put together some bolder choices,” She pulled out some more templates before adding, “And as for you, Steve, what do you think—of this?” She put forth some stencils.

Steve turned to Tony, “Whaddya think?”

“I like the red, and the gold,” Tony said, flicking through the samples, “But that’s—what do you like?”

“Red and gold is nice.” Steve said.

“But red and gold is—” Tony gestured meaningfully, “It’s more me than you. What colour scheme do you like?”

“Uh—blue is nice.”

“Of course, blue is nice.” Tony said, “But which of these—here, have a look at these shades. Which do you like?”

Steve sucked his bottom lip in as he looked the options over, “Uh…”

“You’re thinking of something else.” Tony said abruptly, “What are you thinking of?”

��How—” Steve’s frown melted quickly under Tony’s blunt scrutiny, “Okay, yeah, I am.”

“And?” Tony prompted.

“Illustration.” Steve cleared his throat, “One I did of you, from when we first got together.”

“But that’s just of me—oh, would you do yourself too?” Tony asked.

“Uh. Well, I was thinking you would do one of me.” Steve suggested.

“But I’m terrible at drawing.” Tony said, “It’ll look sh—um, bad.”

“It could be a technical drawing, not a sketch. Like what you do for those prosthetic blueprints.” Steve said, “And you’re not bad at drawing.”

“Um.” Tony frowned, “Okay, I’ll give it a go.”

“Just try. It doesn’t have to be what we go with, but. . .” Steve shrugged, “I think it could be memorable.”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled, a touch awkward, “That it would be.”

Steve had just sent out an email to his TA cohort when Tony sat down at the other end of the couch, folding his feet under his thighs. Once seated, Tony let out a long-winded groan and plopped his head down on Steve’s calves.

Steve lowered his laptop screen to give the man a look of bemusement. When Tony didn’t look up, he leaned forward to pat the brunet’s head..

“What’s up?”

At his prompting, Tony raised his head and shuffled closer. Steve deposited his laptop on the coffee table and stretched his arms out. His ever-mature fiancé fell into his arms with a huffy exhale. Steve let out an “oof” when Tony hit his chest, but a low chuckle hummed in his chest as Tony proclaimed, “Art is a mean sport.”

“That well, huh?” Steve murmured.

Tony’s arms wrapped around his torso, head turning so that his ear sat against Steve’s chest.

“You’ve got a Grecian face,” Tony mumbled into his shirt, “And I’ve made it look like Greek salad dressing.”

“Now that I’d like to see.” Steve said, stroking a hand down Tony’s hair and over his upper back.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Tony grouses, “Because I know your sketch has an insane amount of detail, and whenever I see it, I feel so gorgeous, but my sketch will probably do a number on your self-esteem.” Tony lifted his head, “But it’s not because I don’t find you hot, I mean, duh, you know that, but I just don’t have your skill in—oh my god, would you stop laughing?”

Steve laughed harder when Tony’s hands came up to rub at his cheeks, turning his head this way and that in mock affront.

“You’re gonna kill me before the wedding.” Tony complained, “This has been your plan all along, hasn’t it?”

“No, Tony—” Steve grabbed onto Tony’s wrists to pull them off his cheeks, still laughing, “No, I ain’t. Come on, baby, lemme talk.”

“Oh, what—you’re going to say, I’m sure it’s not that bad and honey, even if it is, I’ll still love it because it’s you.” Tony imitated his cadence before making a disgusted noise, “Well, blegh. We’re not doing that.”

“Why not? I like doing that.” Steve said.

“This is our wedding.” Tony said, “And these are our wedding invites. This is where we set the tone, and if we go with my drawing, we’ll basically be saying, hey everybody, the circus is in town. And people will come to the town square in impossibly small clown cars. Do you want that, Steve? Do you want squirting flowers and impossibly long handkerchiefs?”

“Okay, okay, how’s about this—” Steve brings his own hands to Tony’s cheeks in a mirror of what the man had done to him earlier, “I do the drawings and you do the stencil, the design.”

The tension in Tony’s face buffered as he considered Steve’s idea, and then finally, he nodded, “That could work, actually.” He turned his gaze back to Steve’s eyes with a stern gleam in them, “But you’ve gotta do a proper drawing of yourself, alright? None of that wishy-washy sketching you do when it comes to self-portraits.

“I’ll submit it for peer review. How’s that sound?” Steve asked.

Tony laughed shortly at that before thwapping his head down onto Steve’s chest with a relieved sigh. “You are the perfect man.”

“That’s funny,” Steve mumbled into Tony’s hair, “I thought that was you.”

Steve and Bucky were at the gym, getting a workout in before their group’s bi-weekly brunch.

The brunch thing was a tradition from days gone: their little group used to meet for a cheap meal at Stan’s diner every Friday back in college. That felt like years ago, mostly because it was years ago. Steve and Tony had still been just friends when it had kicked off; the former working through his master’s in art history and the latter in his final year of his seventh PhD.

It had begun as a kooky quartet: just Nat and Bucky along with the two of them, and then for a spring, Peggy, before she’d moved back to Hampstead. People came and went as they grew through different friendships. Tony had brought over Bruce, and Steve had brought over Sam (much to Bucky’s longstanding chagrin), and Natasha had brought over Clint (much to everyone’s longstanding chagrin). Thor and Loki had been an amusing duo but after Loki and Clint had an impossibly convoluted fight, the two brothers had broken off from the group, and only kept sporadic contact with them now that they were back in Norway.

There had been a few months when Rhodey had been in town, and those had been Tony’s most exuberant. The lunches had been the source of true amusement; for most of ‘em, hearing the sheer number of ridiculous stories from the two’s adventures in undergrad, before Rhodey had joined the army and Tony had started on his first PhD, and for Bucky and Natasha, the private amusement of bearing witness to Steve’s boiling jealousy.

The weekly lunches had become brunches as they grew older and into occupations, and then became a monthly occurrence, usually at Steve and Bucky’s old apartment. Finally, when Steve and Tony got their shit together and subsequently their dicks together, they’d started having brunches every second Friday in a private, lavish restaurant in Stark Tower. While all of them had decently pressing jobs, no one’s was as subject to whim as Tony’s, and with his increasing visibility in the public eye, it made most sense to congregate at a location that suited him.

This year’s schedule was such that Steve’s classes and Bucky’s shifts worked out to give them an extra two hours before brunch time. So, like the gym rats they were, they went and worked out.

“C’mon, that all you got?” Bucky taunted; hands braced a few inches above the bar. Steve puffed a breath out and heaved up the bar. He’d finished the set two reps prior, but Bucky was doing a good job of amping up his nerves. He did two more straining reps and then huffed out a panting, “Okay.”

Bucky took the bar readily and slotted it back on the rack. “Alright, get your sweaty ass off the bench.”

“Agh.” Steve straightened and got off, watching as Bucky thoroughly wiped his bench before getting on it. He knew the man was doing it more as a gag to try and get under Steve’s skin rather than out of actual concern for hygiene.

“Mature.” Steve said as Bucky tossed the gym towel at him with an expression of severe disgust.

“Pay attention, loose hands.” Bucky said as he lined his hands up against the bar, “Unlike you, I’m actually lifting heavy.”

“You’re so full of gas, it’s a miracle this place ain’t blown up.” Steve huffed, bracing his hands above the bar as Bucky started his reps.

“One, two, three, four,” Steve coughed, “Four, wrist, Buck—”

“Shuddup.” Bucky panted.

“Four, four, wrist, Buck.” Steve said, “You have tendonitis, dipshit, fix your technique. I’m not counting it until you do.”

A few moments, and then Steve amended, “Five, six, seven, eight. One more, come on. Alright, now get to ten. You got it, there you go.”

Bucky put the bar back into its slot with an audible clang before sitting up, “I fuggin’ hate you.” He accused Steve before getting up.

“I’ll make Sam my best man,” Steve raised his eyebrows, “Naw, go on, test me.”

“Yeah, yeah, like he could write a better speech than me. I got the keys to your childhood, punk.” Bucky said, “Get on the bench.”

Steve settled back on the bench, taking a minute to align his hands properly. It was his personal quirk; he liked settling his fingers as equidistant as he could get them on the bar and didn’t mind taking time to ensure it.

“You’re so slow.” Bucky complained, “Are y’like this in bed too?”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” Steve asked, “Weirdo.”

“Just feeling bad for Tony.” Bucky said, “And, uh, speaking of Tony…”

“Oh, cute, here we go.” Steve lifted the bar, brought it down, “Whaddya want?”

“Why’re the two of you being so fuckin’ subservient?” Bucky asked, “When I came over on Tuesday, Tones didn’t say anything about us co-opting the living room for baseball, and he usually throws a hissy fit just on principle. But he just gave you a smooch and went back to his room.”

“Have you considered that he loves me?” Steve finished his last rep, slotting the bar back in place before looking up at Bucky.

Bucky blew a raspberry, “Aw, no way. I thought the marriage was just to get that Stark bounty.”

“Stop, he’s sensitive about that.” Steve warned, getting up.

“Alright, alright, but seriously—what’s up?” Bucky asked, “Is this the pre-honeymoon?”

“We made a no arguments pact.” Steve explained, “Until the wedding.”

“A no arguments pact?” Bucky frowned, “How the hell are you two keeping to it?”

“Um, maybe because we love each other?”

“Yeah, and you express that love with a decent side dish of public arguments.” Bucky said, setting back on the bench, not bothering with the towel this time, “How’re you coping?"

“Well.” Steve waited until Bucky was near the end of his reps and mid-lift, keeping his hands braced to spot, “The sex is going to be great.”

Bucky slotted the bar back before giving him a deadpan look.

“What?” Steve put on a look of ingenue innocence, “You asked.”

“And I am repenting.” Bucky sighed, “Let’s do our stretches and get outta here.”

“We haven’t done legs.” Steve pointed out.

“It’s arms day.” Bucky retorted.

Steve crossed his arms, “Tony likes my quads.”

“Tony likes my quads.” Bucky imitated in a high-pitched tone, “Gawd, you have it bad.”

“Yeah, and who spent an hour working out his core before meeting Natasha?” Steve threw out.

“That was eleven years ago, fuckhead.” Bucky tugged his hair tie off and gathered his sweaty strands together to retie it, “Can we move on already?”

“Yep,” Steve snapped his fingers, “Come on then, leg press time.”

“Fuckin’ Tony.” Bucky grumbled, picking his towel up from the floor.

“That’s the plan, yeah.”

Steve wasn’t really surprised when Bucky threw in the towel—not even when it ended up thrown on his own face.

“See, my question is—thanks honey—my question is, when the fuck did we start wearing flower crowns in weddings?” Tony complained, “Is this a queer thing I totally missed out on or is Jan just punking me?”

Natasha wrinkled her nose, “Nuh-uh. No flower crowns.”

“Thank you!” Tony said emphatically.

“I think we’d look cute with flower crowns.” Steve said, just to mess with Tony.

“No!” Tony took a sip of his lemonade, wincing before amending, “No thank you, I mean.”

“A circle of…” Steve’s lips twitched, “White peonies along your head,” He stroked a line against Tony’s temple, “Real pretty.”

“I see you for what you are.” Tony poked a finger against Steve’s chest, “Menace.”

Still, it was obvious in the sudden line of relief in Tony’s shoulders that he had genuinely believed that Steve wanted flower crowns for their wedding. Steve pressed a conciliatory kiss against his shoulder before admitting, “It would be tacky.”

“So tacky.” Tony shuddered.

“Did Jan give you a final look of the suits?” Natasha pressed, twirling her fork into her pasta. Sitting next to her, Bucky uttered a drawn-out groan.

“If I have to look at lapels again, I will actually walk out.”

“Should we be so lucky!” Tony gasped, putting his hands together in an exaggerated hand-clap.

Bucky leaned back in his chair as he levelled a middle finger at Tony, and Steve’s soon-to-be husband returned his pseudo-brother’s mature gesture with a very mature one of his own; he stuck out his tongue at him.

“Jan sent us the designs, yes.” Steve answered in Tony’s stead, “I okay’d them but then Tony said he needed approval from the redheads in his life.”

“And mom.” Tony added.

“And Maria, yes.” Steve said, “Hands up, everyone who thinks Maria okay’d it.”

Natasha and Bucky’s arms stayed tellingly on the table.

“She still thinks Steve should wear the white tux.” Tony said, “And that I should wear a—” Here, Tony propped his fingers up to do quotation marks, “—A pillowing, charcoal-grey, semi-transparent veil beaded with Swarovski crystals.”

“Now that I agree with.” Steve said to Tony, “Oh, c’mon, you’d look so pretty.”

“Can you imagine Howard’s reaction?” Tony asked, rolling his eyes, “He’s still calling our wedding the BFG wedding.”

“Big fat Greek wedding?” Natasha asked.

“Big fat gay wedding.” Tony corrected.

Bucky visibly choked on his drink, some of the lemonade spilling over onto the table. Natasha handed him a napkin before replying, “Well, that’s a B for creativity.”

“If we’re going to account for Howard’s taste in our wedding, then we should go ahead and tick off inflatable dildos from the gift registry.” Steve teased.

“Wh—” Bucky started.

“He’s joking.” Tony rolled his eyes, “Though calling that a joke is testing the limits of honest comedy.”

“Honest comedy like the video loops of robots falling that you cackle over?” Steve checked.

“Yes.” Tony gave Steve a haughty look before turning his head back front to face Natasha, “Besides, it’s not about the veil so much as it is about the fact that I just know that every time I glance over at him during the wedding, he’ll be giving me a stink eye.”

“I mean—if you’re gonna stink, be the biggest stink you can be.” Bucky said through a mouthful of lasagna.

Steve raised his fork at Bucky, “Hear, hear.”

“Uh—” Tony turned to face him, mouth set in a straight line, “Can we drop this?”

“. . .Sure.” Steve agreed after a beat.

“Okay, what?” Natasha looked between them before turning to Bucky, “Did they drop the argument, just like that?”

“They’re doing some tantric sex foreplay.” Bucky explained to her, patting her arm in consolation.

“What the f—” Tony started.

“—Tantric sex?” Steve completed.

“Oh, great, because they can’t go off on each other, they’re gonna gang up on me.” Bucky said.

“Poor baby.” Natasha mock pouted.

“You’re on thin fucking ice.” Steve said to Bucky.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky spread his hands out in a soft imitation of jazz hands, “Global warming and whatnot. It’s all thin ice moving forward.”

“. . .Steve.” Tony prompted when Steve didn’t say anything back to Bucky.

“Well, that was a good one.” Steve admitted.

Tony sunk his head into hands, making a deflating balloon noise into his fingers.

“We broke him.” Bucky announced solemnly.

When Tony didn’t raise his head, Steve frowned and put an arm around the man, “Hey, let’s go to the bathroom.”

“Ugh.” Tony pronounced, “Nah, I’m going back up to the office.”

“Y’okay Starky boy?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said, shaking his hair out of his eyes, “I’m just more wired than I thought.”

“It’s ‘cause you guys aren’t fight—” Bucky raised his hands in surrender when all three of them shot him a threatening stare, “Alright, alright, I’m the asshole.”

“Nah, you’re not.” Tony got up, “Hey, get some dessert on me.” He put his card down, “Since I’m still on that stupid diet.”

“Which you don’t have to be on.” Steve pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes at him and picked up his phone and suit jacket from the table. Then, with a kiss to Natasha’s cheek and a slap to Bucky’s hand, he walked off. Steve gave his goodbyes to the two of them before rushing after Tony.

He only caught up to the speedwalking escapee when he’d reached the private elevator.

“Penthouse?” Steve asked, “. . .Hey, what’s up?”

“Don’t you have a class in like, two hours?” Tony said, eyes on the lift button.

“Yeah.” Steve got into the lift with him, “Tony, what’s—”

Tony rolled his eyes. Again.

“You are wired today.” Steve grabbed onto Tony’s arms and dragged him close, “Come on, Tony, what’s going on in that mind of yours?”

“I’m annoyed and trying very hard to not lash out more than I already have.” Tony explained in a dull voice. Still, he didn’t try and escape from Steve’s hold, resting his forehead against Steve’s collarbones.

“Hey, Tony?” Steve said, chin resting atop Tony’s head, “I’d rather you screamed at me than held back like this.”

Tony sighed, lifting his head up, finally meeting Steve’s gaze with a soft lost look in his eyes.

“Do we really fight that much?” Tony asked.

“It got to you, huh.” Steve ran a hand through Tony’s hair. It was gelled and slicked back, and his fingers came off the hair with a tacky feel to them. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Tony’s head anyway.

The lift beeped softly as they arrived at the penthouse, and Tony broke from his arms to walk out through the doors.

“Every one of our friends has commented on the fact that we haven’t been arguing,” Tony called out, “And then expressed shock that we’ve been able to hold ourselves to it.” He plopped down on the living room couch. He wouldn’t lie down while in the suit; Tony got fussy about wrinkles when he had to be at SI. After a measured inhale, Steve went over to sit down next to him.

“Makes you think, I guess.” Tony finished on a sigh.

“Nah.” Steve denied, “They don’t mean it like that.”

Tony turned to him with a defiant look but before he could rebut, Steve added, “And even if they did, it wouldn’t matter because guess what?”

“. . .What?”

“It’s our relationship. You and me. We know that our arguing doesn’t make us a bad couple, that even if we cross the line, we know how to walk back. We’ve done the work, remember?”

“I guess.” Tony said, leaning over to rest his head against the crook of Steve’s neck.

“And hey,” Steve turned his head to press another kiss against Tony’s head, “Guess what?”

“This is a lot more guessing than I’m comfortable with.”

“The sex is going to be phenomenal.” Steve whispered.

A sputtering laugh left Tony’s lips, appearing to startle the man himself as he put a hand over his mouth.

“Aw god.” Tony said, laughter still rounding the words, “You’re right about that.”

Steve was waiting on it, but it was still hard to keep his body deliberately untensed as Tony crawled onto his front later that night, pressing his nose into Steve’s neck.

“Let’s just not fight.” Tony suggested quietly, “After we get married.”

Then, with a rueful sigh, “Though, if we’ve gotta fight, there’s no one else I’d rather fight than you.”

And then, thoughtfully to himself, “Maybe I should wear that veil.”

“Two hours, Tony.” Steve said into the phone, trying to bite back his frustration, “I asked you if you could make it with the board meeting today, and you said, absolutely, and this is the last catering check, Tony, we only get three of those and it’s not—”

“D’you still want me to come?” Tony interrupted, voice tight with tension, “‘Cause you can yell at me later but I’ve got about a hundred meters before the intersection.”

The words ran like a bucket of cold water over him. Steve ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his head as he did so.

“No, I’ll meet you at home.” Steve said.

“Fine.” Tony clicked off almost instantly.

It was only after Steve made his goodbyes to the catering manager and Mrs. Arbogast, packed up the food, and got into his car that his frustration substituted for remorse.

He whistled a low breath out and put his head against the steering wheel.

“Shouldn’t have yelled.” Steve admonished himself.

He knew better. Eight years of dating—goddamnit, he knew better. When he got upset, it was better to step away from Tony. Burn that energy off somewhere else. Tony could be biting and mean too, and their rows—the proper rows, anyway—were rough creatures. But there were also times, when Tony would shelve off the part of him that hurt and go blank. And Steve knew what it looked like, knew that Tony would be tight-lipped—and yet, he’d still—

“Fuck.” Steve groaned.

When he got home, Tony was already in bed. Propped against the headboard, he was reading the book that Pepper had recommended to him. The reading glasses that had been prescribed to him after his last visit to the optometrist were set on his face, and they concealed a little of the bright brown Steve was accustomed to.

“Hi.” Steve offered.

“Hi.” Tony returned, gaze lifting to meet his for a moment.

Steve breathed in, out, and then extended the olive branch. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” He said softly.

“I shouldn’t have been late.” Tony replied readily. His finger tapped against the cover of the book as he added on, like it had been torn from him, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no, I’m sorry.” Steve said, walking to Tony’s side of the bed and sitting down next to the man. “I know it must’ve been out of your control.”

“Thank you for saying that.” Tony said. It was familiar, a line they’d learned when they’d gone through couples counselling, two years into their relationship. They’d had a disagreement that had blown out into what their friends now teasingly referred to as “the civil war”. Putting themselves back together had required a lot of work.

It had fortified them, but, and Steve remembered their therapist’s voice even now as she’d said, we all hurt the ones we love. Even when we have the best intentions. It’s what we do after that defines who we are.

Steve had taken it to heart then, and he brought it out now.

“I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” Steve admitted. “I know better than that.”

Tony put the book flat on his lap, giving him a conciliatory smile, “It’s alright.”

“I got most of the samples from the caterer.” Steve offered, “I could’ve pushed for another check, but the lady seemed like the kind to keep score and I didn’t wanna—”

“It’s alright.” Tony put the book away and got up, “Should we eat ‘em now?”

“Yes, please. Just—” Steve rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “Let me shower?”

Steve was lathering his arms when Tony pulled the shower curtain open, walking in.

“’Scuse me?” Steve said.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Tony said.

“By all means.” Steve rinsed his arms off before turning to kiss Tony.

“Shower-shower or sex-shower?” He whispered against Tony’s temple.

“How about, we wash each other and take it from there?” Tony suggested.

“Sex-shower, then.” Steve said.

Later, as they towelled dry, bathroom steamy as the vents worked overtime to make up for it, Steve considered their reflections in the bathroom mirror.

“What are you thinking?” Tony asked, hip-checking him gently as he pumped a handful of lotion into his hand.

“I like how we look together.” Steve said, “Just—I like how we fit.”

“Hmm.” Tony slapped Steve’s face lightly, smearing lotion across his cheek, “That’s good. No need for plastic surgery.”

“Ye-eup. That’s why I’m marrying you. No plastic surgery.”

“Oh, babe, I agree.” Tony rubbed the lotion in before turning back to consider their reflection in the mirror.

“Our love may not be perfect, but we are damn sexy.” The world’s foremost futurist proclaimed.

And Steve, his soon-to-be husband, was helpless to do anything but agree.

Later, after Steve had feigned sleep for about thirty minutes, he felt Tony slide close to him and impress a kiss against the nape of his neck. Then, after a moment, Tony’s forehead rested against it. Steve did his best to keep his body loose, unresponsive like someone asleep would be.

He waited for a few minutes for Tony to speak, to say something. He knew the man was still awake, could feel it in his irregular breathing. Part of him wanted to drop the ruse, to turn around and cover the man with his own breadth. Soothe the lines of lingering whatever. But he also knew Tony wouldn’t talk, had maybe already dug a shallow enough grave for this blip.

Tony was very good at the retrospective water-down: convincing himself that things hadn’t actually hurt that much once the bleeding stemmed.

It was just as Steve was genuinely reaching the threshold of sleep, the time between each blink longer and longer, that Tony finally spoke up.

“We’re only three weeks away.” Tony whispered. “We signed off on the food today. The food we’ll have for our wedding. This is. . .real, isn’t it? All of this. I’m—”

“Can you believe it?” Tony continued, “That it’s happening?”

Steve had never wanted so badly to break free from this secret as he did now. He wanted to bring his arms up, pull this moment apart like cotton candy and hold Tony. Tell him, it’s happening. And I can’t believe it either. But I’m so happy.

He wasn’t sure what it was that kept him from doing so. And when Tony slipped off him with an exhale that lingered bone-deep, he stayed awake a while longer, thinking of the sunrise spread before them. Of their future. When Tony’s breaths turned to snores, he turned over and shuffled close to his soon-to-be husband—no, his fiancé. His fiancé. Because even if the future was a stone’s throw away, he was in no rush to meet it. He was happy, right now, right here, with his fiancé in his bed.

Steve fell asleep like that, nuzzling against the back of Tony’s neck and arm slung around his heart.

“You’re frizzing out.” Tony observed, tone surprised.

“I’m not frizzing out.” Steve denied outright, turning back to walk through the hotel’s bedroom and into the sitting room. The suits were ironed but he’d just had the thought to put the plastic cover back over them.

“Yes, you are.” Tony had followed him through the door, and the expression on his face was that of charisma at rest.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Steve said, straightening out the plastic sheet.

“Like what?”

“Like that.” Steve splayed his hand demonstratively at Tony’s face. “It’s the same expression you have when you’re sucking my dick and you know I’m close to coming, and you choose that—” He snapped the plastic cover to straighten it out, “—moment to pull off. Just t’keep me on edge.”

“Wow.” Tony crossed his arms, amusement strikingly obvious, “And here I thought I’d be the one to have cold feet.”

“I’m not having cold feet.” Steve said, putting the plastic cover on Tony’s suit. Both suits were beautiful but something about the clean white against Tony’s warm tone was fantastical. He couldn’t wait to see Tony in it. They’d agreed to do the first look on the morning of their wedding, though both had consulted each other on the design extensively enough. Since they’d signed off on Jan’s design, Steve had spent many a minute in the gym imagining the suit on Tony. He was looking forward to it. Amongst about a hundred other things. Steve looked over at Tony after carefully setting the suit down. “I’m having hot hands.”

“Hot. . .hands.” Tony echoed.

“I’m so excited, I dunno how I’m going to sleep.” Steve said, snapping the other plastic cover before sliding his own black suit into it.

Steve heard Tony’s footsteps as the man pattered over to him, and then felt the man’s arms around him just as he set his own suit down. Tony pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, their height difference meaning that it landed closer to the juncture between his jaw and neck.

“I have hot hands, too.” Tony said, “You know that, right?”

“I know.” Steve turned his own head to face Tony, foreheads meeting as he leaned in. He closed his eyes, just letting the moment seep between them. “We’re gonna get married.”

“We are.” Tony agreed, a short but overjoyed chuckle following the words, “Oh my god, we are.”

“I’m a little freaked out.” Steve leaned back to open his eyes. Tony’s eyes were radiant when they met his, but—and this was damn telling—absent of even a flicker of uncertainty. “I want to check on mom and dad, and I want to go wake Bucky up so we can grapple, and I want to have you—here, on the rug—but I also want to savour this evening for what it is, to wait it out, but I’m—I’m jumping outta my body.”

“I know, baby.” Tony said, “I feel the same.”

“So, what do we do?” Steve asked.

Tony wrinkled his nose as he deliberated before finally deciding, “Let’s do that.”

“All of that?” Steve checked.

“Well. Not the sex, though, because you’re super into delayed edging.” Tony rolled his eyes before adding, “And oh, we are not checking on my parents because Howard will be working and mom will probably start troubleshooting my hairstyle for tomorrow and if I see another Pinterest board in this fucking life, I will find a way to destroy the internet.”

“Can’t have that.” Steve said, before turning around, bringing Tony into his circle of arms.

“Let’s do that, then. Your parents, Bucky, Rhodey, and then sleeping together without sleeping together.” Tony said. “Our last night before the rest of our lives.”

“I like the sound of that.” Steve said.

“I like the sound of you.” Tony volleyed, and Steve leaned down to kiss him for it.

That night, they both fell asleep in each other’s arms, four hours before they were meant to get up. There were no late-night confessions this evening, no need for anything really but the silent symphony of the two of them at peace.

Steve opened the door and stepped back just so he could throw his hands in the air, “Really?”

His father and Tony looked up from their little hideout, a cheeseburger between them.

“Oh, come on, I just wanted one bite.” Tony whined, “I’ve been on a diet for three months!”

“Stevie, he just wanted one bite.” His father, ol’ Joey Rogers, said, “You’ve been starvin’ him for three months.”

“I’ve not been starving him, it was his choice, and besides—we have twenty minutes before we’re expected at the altar.” Steve got to the crux of it.

Tony startled, “No! What, really?” He latched onto Joe’s wrist, turning it over to check the time, “Oh, shit.”

“Only you’d be late to your own wedding.” Pepper added, coming up behind him. She had a clipboard in her hand, a black one she’d gotten from Mrs. Arbogast. She’d readily taken on the task of timekeeping and had come to Steve when she couldn’t find Tony in their suite.

“I’m not late. Not yet anyway.” Tony stood up, giving Joe a hand up before handing him his walking stick, “Okay, pa. Wedding first, cheeseburger later.”

“I’ll save you a bite.” Joe patted his hand reassuringly. “Hey, son, what’s the rush for? It’s not like I gotta walk you down the aisle.”

“You gotta get to your seat, dad.” Steve said, “Ma’s been looking all over for you.”

“Aw, jeez, whatever. Alright, let’s go.” Joe said, wrapping the burger back up and pocketing it.

“Anthony!” Maria rushed up, “Oh darling, I’ve got it.”

“Got what?” Steve asked.

“Surprise, don’t listen.” Tony warned.

Steve raised his eyebrows but turned away, moving off to the front seats with his dad.

His mom was already seated, a flute of champagne in her head.

“You’re drinking, ma?” Steve asked, surprised.

“Oh no, darling,” Sarah Rogers shook her head, looking like summer incarnate in her sunflower yellow gown, “Maria just handed this off to me because she had to get—oh, I’m not supposed to say.”

“I’ll take that, then.” Joe said, taking the glass and downing it.

“Oh, Joey.” Sarah tilted her head, “What if she wanted that back?”

“There’s no shortage of ‘em.” Joe defended himself.

“You want another one?” Steve turned to see Howard coming up, two glasses of scotch in hand.

“Uh, sure thing, Howard.” Joe said. None of them mentioned that Joe hated scotch.

“It looks bad if there’s only one dad drinking but both of them?” Howard laughed, already a little tipsy, “That’s a partnership.”

“Cheers to that.” Sarah said brightly.

“Yeah, uh, by the way,” Howard put a hand against Steve’s shoulder before saying, with the enthusiasm of a lamb to the slaughter, “Maria told me to say that you look real spiffy.”

“Uh, thank you, sir.” Steve smiled.

“Please, you’re marrying my son.” Howard said, smirk a little like Tony’s for how it slanted to the right, “Call me Mr. Stark.”

“Haha.” Steve said, “Would you like to sit down here?”

“Nah, I’ve been told that my seat’s on Tony’s side.” Howard said, “I was just told to scurry off while Maria made Tony up like a girl.”

“Like a girl?” Steve frowned.

“Maria gave me a list of words I’m not allowed to use.” Howard shrugged, “It’s comprehensive.”

“. . .Great.” Steve decided on.

“Everything looks absolutely wonderful.” Sarah pitched in, standing up to tweak Steve’s bowtie. “How are you feeling, honey?”

“Like a keg ‘bout to explode.” Steve answered honestly.

“Attaboy.” Joe grinned.

“Don’t you worry.” Sarah said, “Bambi and Pepper are on everything, and Buck’s corralling all the guests into place. You just keep yourself presentable. You have your vows, right?”

“Yep.” Steve patted his suit jacket pocket.

“You need me to go over them with you?” Sarah asked.

“Ah, not again.” Joe rubbed a hand over his face, “C’mon, Sarah, he’s got it memorised back to front but we all know that in the end, he’s gonna get six words in, put ‘em back into his pocket and start improv’ing.”

“Dad, that’s not. . .” Steve considered it for a moment, “Huh, you’re probably right.”

“Precedent speaks for itself.” Joe shrugged.

“I don’t reckon Tony’s even thought of his vows.” Howard said, thoughtfully.

“Oh, he has.” Sarah said, “The two of them asked me to help them with the editing, you know, ‘cause they wanted to make sure neither of them were saying the same things as the other.”

“Huh.” Howard said, a thoughtful note to the word, “Well. I guess I should get some water then. Sober up a little.”

Steve found out about the surprise when Tony met him at the entrance to the hall, before the doors from which they’d be making their walk down to the altar.

“Oh.” The word left Steve in a breath as his eyes ran over his—fiance. The last time that word would be used for the man standing before him, a vision in white and now with a delicate, short white veil over his face. It glittered under the lights, and Steve realised the shimmer came from crystals that had been woven into the fabric.

“So, you like it.”

“Tony.” Steve managed, arms rising of their own accord to skate along Tony’s arms, his shoulders. “You. . .”

“You too.” Tony agreed.

“I mean, just...” Steve said, “The veil is very nice.”

“Thank my mom.”

“I will.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve when he stayed there, rubbing his hands up and down Tony’s arms, “Oh, you like-like.”

“Hm.”

“I mean, you like it as in this is doing it for you.” Tony said.

“Yeah, kinda.” Steve said, “You realise you’re an absolute tease for springing this on me?”

“Mom told me to make sure you dip me for the pictures because it’ll look really pretty with the veil.” Tony said, “But I told her that just ‘cause I’m wearing a veil, does not mean I’m the girl in this relationship. So. I’ll be dipping you.”

“So I’m the girl?” Steve frowned.

“Well. No. We’re both men.” Tony blew out noisily, “You’d think you would know that.”

“Can you even hold my weight?” Steve asked.

Tony gave him a truly annoyed look, “You keep that up, you’re not gonna get to fuck me tonight.”

“Well, then,” Steve leaned close to whisper, “Your Brazilian wax will go to waste. And your enema.”

“Like you care if I have either of those things.” Tony squinted at him, “You’d wanna fuck me anyway.”

“Yeah.” Steve shrugged, “Can’t deny that, won’t deny that.”

The old jazz piano started playing from inside the hall and they both mustered up.

“Well,” Tony smiled, and even with the veil, it was brilliant, as effervescent as the crystals. “Last chance to back out, Rogers.”

“Not a chance, Stark.”

“And I swear on my doct—”

“Oh, is he swearing on his doctorate again?” Tony came up behind him. The wedding after-party was in full swing, and they were making their rounds.

“Well,” Steve put a proprietary arm around Tony’s hip, “We don’t all have three of them. I gotta cash mine in while it’s got value.”

“Sorry, am I still needed?” Clint asked, “Because the third-wheeling is making me wanna call my ex.”

“Do not call Laura.” Steve warned, “Go talk to Sharon. She’ll set you up.”

“With a woman?”

“What, no. With a drink.” Steve waved Clint off. “And don’t get into a fight with Loki!”

He was about to speak to Tony when Howard and Maria came up.

“Oh honey, careful with the veil.” Maria said, leaning up to fix the veil’s positioning on Steve’s head. After Steve had dipped Tony for the kiss, Tony had transferred the veil onto Steve’s head and dipped him, cheekily quipping, “How’s that for two men?” after. Once the reception had kicked off, he’d insisted that Steve keep the veil on his head, though Steve had pulled the fabric off his face to see better.

“It really wasn’t made for a black suit,” Maria said in an undertone before smiling at Steve, “Oh, but darling, you look wonderful.”

“Thank you, Maria.”

“Oh, none of that now.” Maria tutted, “We’re family, Steve. You call me, “mama”.”

“. . .Thank you, mama.” Steve said, touched despite himself.

“None a that for me.” Howard said, “I like you, Stevie, but I didn’t even like Tony calling me papa or, agh, daddy. Remember when you were young enough to say it?”

“Yes, and I still have issues from it. It’s why I call Steve “daddy” in the bedroom.” Tony said before snorting, “I’m kidding, dad, no need for the stink face.”

“I thought jokes were meant to be funny.”

“You’re at a gay wedding, dad.” Tony pointed out, “I’m all out of I-hate-my-wife jokes.”

“I have never made a joke like that.” Howard said to Maria, “I love my wife.”

“I know, Howie.” Maria patted his arm in reassurance. “Tony, that’s a lovely joke.”

“I know.”

“Don’t repeat it.” Maria said.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” Tony said in an undertone, “He’s going to think I actually call you “daddy”.”

“Hmm.” Steve held Tony’s hip as they danced around the hall, “Not my thing, baby.”

“Me neither.” Tony said, “Gosh, the cake was good.”

“You’re full?” Steve asked.

“I could be fuller.” Tony tilted his head, “Why? Are you propositioning me?”

“Not yet.” Steve said, clearing his throat, “Hey, let’s dance over into the dressing room.”

“You’re really not propositioning me?” Tony double-checked.

“Not like that. It's my surprise. Now,” Steve said, “be subtle-like. Don’t want people thinking we’ve eloped.”

“Pft,” Tony said, “Okay, follow my lead, then.”

“Y’know,” Joe clinked his glass with Howard’s, “I always wanted two sons.”

“Yeah?” Howard sniffed, “You wanted ‘em to get married to each other, too?”

“The veil was a beautiful touch.” Sarah said to Maria, and the woman beamed, looking like a bride herself in white. Apparently, the not-wearing-white rule didn’t count if there were two grooms and one of them was your son. To her credit, Maria and Tony had looked beautiful in the family photographs.

“I had a black suit and veil handy too,” Maria confided, “Just in case Tony changed his mind about the suit.”

“Good job, gang.” Bucky raises his glass. Rhodey, Natasha, Happy, Sam and Pepper raised their glass.

“To Steve and Tony, and their everlasting love.” Pepper toasted.

“And their everlasting board game nights.” Happy added.

“And their everlasting prolonged eye contact.” Natasha said.

“And their everlasting arguing, now that the pact’s done with.” Rhodey said.

“And our everlasting third-wheeling.” Sam said.

“Hear, hear.” Bucky finished.

Steve took the little box out from the mini-fridge and proffered it to Tony.

“A gift?” Tony made a show of raising his hands to his cheeks in coy flirtation, “Oh my, hubby, you shouldn’t have.”

“Unwrap it, Tony.” Steve said.

Tony loosened the pink ribbon, tossing it before flipping the box open to look inside.

“Oh, baby.” Tony gazed up at Steve with so much affection that it looked like the heart-eyes emoji come to life. Steve didn’t think his heart had any room left for love but the frisson of joy that ran from his neck to spine proved him wrong.

Tony’s hand reached into the box and brought out the donut with rainbow sprinkles he’d ordered for him.

“Thank you.” Tony said in a hushed tone, and emotion kept it heavy and low; like if he spoke any louder, he would burst apart from it all. Steve understood it perfectly; he felt the same way.

“Every time.”

“You mean, any time.” Tony said as he took a bite, eyes closing to savour it.

“No,” Steve corrected, soft as the donut, as the curl of Tony’s eyes, as this moment, “I mean every time.”

Steve took the hallway down to their suite. He’d said goodbye to everyone: hugged his parents off, helped Maria bring a drunk Howard back to their bedroom, given Mrs. Arbogast the bouquet of flowers and champagne Tony had bought for her. His husband—wow, that was novel in the best way—had headed off with Rhodey a half-hour back, telling Steve he was going to change out of his tight shoes.

He hadn’t come back though, and Steve had assumed he was taking a kip back in the room. They’d been on their feet for the better part of the day, after all.

“Tony?” Steve called out as he entered their suite. Tony wasn’t in the sitting room, and Steve lingered for a moment at the threshold to take in the sight of the leftovers from their morning frenzy. Tony’s empty espresso cup. Gel and hair products strewn across the vanity. The powder Maria had used on Steve’s face. The mascara Tony had run along his own lashes. A spread of their lives just before they’d gotten married.

Suddenly, he had to see Tony. His husband. Steve turned away from their past and faced their future, quickly making his way through the sitting room to the bedroom.

“Tony. . .?” Steve trailed off, brought to a standstill at the entrance.

Tony was laid back on the bed, wearing the veil. Steve swallowed roughly.

Just the veil.

“Hey, husband.” Tony said.

Steve stepped forward.

Steve was actually dropping off to sleep when he heard Tony.

“Thank you for the donut.” Tony whispered, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Thank you for letting me take care of you. Thank you for saying yes when I proposed. Thank you for us. For this day, and all the days ahead.” Tony continued, “I love you.”

“I love you today.” Tony said, “I love you tomorrow. I love you forever.”

Steve breathed out, mind jolting so quickly to wakefulness that it felt like exhaustion was being siphoned out of him.

“What, you’re not going to say it back?”

Steve’s breath stuck in his throat and his eyes snapped open. Tony had his head propped on Steve’s chest and he sat up a little to meet his gaze.

“You knew?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” Tony confessed.

“All this time?” Steve confirmed.

“Yep.”

“Wow.” Steve said, “You sneaky minx.”

“Could say the same for you.” Tony said.

“A pair of sneaky minxes, then.” Steve decided, “The two of us.”

“Ha!” Tony kissed a tender spot high on Steve’s neck, “Okay, okay, we’re creeps, we’re weirdos.”

“Don’t go all Radiohead on me now.” Steve mumbled, patting Tony’s flank, “Sleep now, baby. We’ve got the rest of our lives to figure out what to call it.”

“Steve Rogers and Tony Stark yesterday.” Tony said, “Steve Rogers and Tony Stark today.”

“Everything changes but us.” Steve caught Tony’s drift.

“You get me, honey, you do.” Tony said.

“I got you.” Steve breathed out, “You got me.”

And it set to stone between them like a promise. A new pact: one they’d keep till the end of their lives. The charming crux of this lush day and the evermore point of their future together.

I got you.

You got me.

#my writing #my fics #stevetony #ishipallthings #prompt fill

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themculibrary · 6 months

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Steve Acting As Peter’s Father Figure Masterlist

Arguably Peter's Worst (Best) Field Trip Ever (ao3) - patrochilles_trash steve/tony T, 18k

Summary: Only a month away from graduation, Mr. Harrington announces a surprise field trip to Avengers Tower, and all Peter wants is to just finish out his senior year of high school in peace. That seems to be impossible when he's never seen a moment's peace in his life.

Bottled Perfection (ao3) - Auggusst steve/tony E, 13k

Summary: When Tony Stark decided to have a child through in vitro fertilization, he knew there was a chance his child would someday want to meet his sperm donor. He just didn't anticipate how kind and wonderful the stranger named Steve Rogers would turn out to be. Sometimes the universe finds a way of making a perfect match.

Come home (ao3) - Ineedtherapy (gethelp) steve/tony N/R, 57k

Summary: Peter Parker’s life is not going great. After May’s death, he moved in with a foster family. After a few months he couldn’t stand the abuse any longer and ran away. Now he’s living on the streets, lies to his best friend on a daily basis and is quickly losing hope.

Tony and Steve are a happily married couple and leaders of the avengers. When noticing his genius, Tony decides to make that highschooler who had come to SI as reward for winning a contest his personal intern. Both avengers soon get attached, but it seems like the kid is hiding something. Will they be able to help him?

Distracted by a Dime (ao3) - happyaspie steve/tony T, 56k

Summary: Peter Parker thinks he has everything figured out. Where he can eat, sleep and make a little bit of money. What he needs to do in order to continue attending Midtown High and being Queen’s friendly neighborhood Spider-man. How to keep his entire situation under wraps and most importantly, who he can trust.

Then, along comes Tony Stark with an offer he can’t refuse. The plan is to remain professional, to not get too close to the Stark-Rogers’ family. Not getting comfortable means not slipping up and saying anything that he can’t take back.

...but for Peter- things rarely go as planned...

For Tomorrow (ao3) - suspendedinice steve/bucky N/R, 18k

Summary: With Bucky finally well enough to receive company, Steve was grateful for any help the team could offer. Especially since he was bound to make mistakes along the way.

“I’m sorry,” Peter murmured, “I thought someone would’ve spoken to him about gay rights by now.”

“I meant to, I really did,” Steve replied, “I just thought- I thought-”

“You thought what, exactly?” Tony interjected, barely raising his eyes from his work, “That you could play gay chicken with the Winter Soldier until he noticed it wasn’t actually a game?”

Happiness Is Homemade (ao3) - Icylightning steve/tony T, 40k

Summary: Tony and Steve are married for fifteen years now. Their life is simple and good until they decide to adopt a teenager named Peter Parker who's going to turn their life upside down.

Happy Again (ao3) - Legends_Never_Die steve/tony T, 31k

Summary: Peter can't take this dads' fighting anymore. He can't take the arguing. He finds comfort with his secret new found friend Bucky. Bucky looks a lot like his Pop's old friend Bucky Barnes from back in the 40s. But it wasn't him. He was dead. Right?

Is This Child Venomous? (ao3) - rWolfWrites steve/bucky M, 79k

Summary: The Spider didn't want a new Handler, but the Spider did not get a say. The Soldier had a new mission and the Spider wasn't allowed, even though the Spider was Ready Status: Optimal. The Handler had new conditions, and the Spider did not like them.

~Alternatively~

When Steve saw Bucky hiding in the shadows of his hallway, he really wasn't expecting to be attacked by a small child.

Love you, Papa (ao3) - chvotic steve/tony G, 5k

Summary: He went to sit on one of the armchairs, but Peter stopped him.

“You want me to sit with you?”

Peter nodded again, and Steve was having a hard time not bursting into tears himself because the kid wanted to be near him.

Or, in which, Peter and Steve share their first ever father-son moments.

{peter stark and a no good very bad day} - multi (ao3) - exit_through_the_giftshop steve/tony, harley/peter G, 3k

Summary: Peter Parker's class takes a trip to Stark Industries (of course they do!), but Peter has a terrible day at school when they announce it. So, for the day of the field trip, he takes a day off (after, of course, complaining to his dad and pops).

Uncle Buck, parents Steve and Tony, protective Natasha, and annoying ass Barton please enter stage. Funny crack, some good fluff, and all the feels. Please enjoy :)

Peter Stark-Rogers (ao3) - ilove_klance harley/peter, steve/tony T, 9k

Summary: Needless to say, Peter lives a crazy life at the Avenger's Tower. And this field trip was enough to throw him off, which said something.

Survival Mode (ao3) - Good_As_I_Am94 steve/tony G, 25k

Summary: Peter shivered pulling the blanket tighter to him. It was 32 degrees outside and sleeping in an old beat up car in a Walmart parking lot didn’t allow for much warmth. He would have turned it on for some heat for a few minutes but it was broken. He had no money to fix it. Peter felt his stomach growl and took a sip from the water bottle in the cup holder.

He knew that the way he was living wasn’t good, but he also had no idea how to do better. He would have to drop out of school and if he dropped out of school then Mr. Stark would get wind of it. He knew that Mr. Stark would try to help but Peter felt his jaw clench—No, he could figure this out on his own. He wasn’t going to let him know how bad things were. He couldn’t chance him telling anyone that he was alone. He wasn’t about to get thrown into the system, but as long as no one knew what was going on. He’d be fine.

The Best Thing (ao3) - winterstony steve/tony T, 32k

Summary: A billionaire finds home in the presence of a single father and his adorable little son. Together they help fill the empty holes in each other's lives.

The Parent (Figure) Trap (ao3) - ara_the_jedi (orphan_account) steve/bucky M, 18k

Summary: Way back when in the 1920s and 30s, Brooklyn was very different. It was mostly immigrants and a high population of Alpha women. By the time Steve was born, inside of Brooklyn and inside the borough only, a same-sex Alpha/Omega couple could live together and raise a family peacefully. He and Bucky got married and bonded in 1936. In 1941, Bucky got drafted. 1942, Steve was told he was dead, he got the serum, and a lot of things happened between 1943 and 1945. In 2014, Bucky appeared less dead than Steve had originally believed. He promptly vanished again. In 2016, Steve finally tracked him down after a bombing at the UN framed to look like his fault. It wasn't. In 2017, Steve and Bucky move into a modest, two-story brownstone in a historic district in Brooklyn. Bucky keeps to himself. Steve leaves him alone. Bucky continues to keep to himself. Steve leaves him alone. The next spring, Steve unexpectedly falls into heat. Bucky does what he remembers best; he takes care of Steve. After, Steve finally moves out. To give Bucky his space. Peter Parker happens upon the both of them. He may be a child, but he has his Spidey-Sense, and his Spidey-Sense senses miscommunication bullshit. Thus, the Parent (Figure) Trap.

What's the Expiration Date on a Secret? (ao3) - First_page steve/tony T, 38k

Summary: Peter Parker has been living with his Aunt May and keeping the secret that he's Spider-man for what feels like forever, but when Spider-man unexpectedly runs into Tony Stark, his secret identity is almost impossible to hide. How long can he keep his secret?

Tony Stark is living the dream; a multibillion dollar empire, a hot, caring boyfriend, and the celebrity status of a rock star. Who would have thought that all he was missing was a teenage superhero that desperately needs a father-figure (or two)?

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #steve rogers #peter parker #father figure #father figure masterlist #masterlists

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arabellamonkey · 2 years

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next to you

stevetony | fill for @stevetonygames bingo square "insecure"! for team marry <3

If anyone had asked him who was the insecure one in their relationship, Tony would have said it was him without a doubt. Having grown in the shadow of his father, trying and failing to fill the shoes of a man that hadn't wasted a single oportunity to remind him of his failures, it seemed like the most obvious conclusion.

If you add that to the fact that he's a forty-something man dating someone that, at least physically, hasn't reached his thirties, the result is as clear as water.

To discover that the opposite is true to Steve is jarring to say the least.

It's a Friday night, and Tony's already given in to the pleasant fuzz he's used to feeling after having a couple of champagne glasses in a gala like that. Steve's there by his side, his arm around his waist helping him keep his balance. Tony's head is almost resting against his chest, so close he can almost heart his heartbeat.

Both of them are doing their best to keep up with the conversation at hand, but Tony's focus is constantly drifting off that what's-her-name senator, focusing instead on the circles Steve's thumb is drawing against his waist.

Then, he feels Steve tense behind him, yanking him off the buzzing feeling and bringing him back to reality. A reality where something that senator is saying is bothering his fiancé.

"You're very lucky to have such a fine man as Mister Rogers as your soon-to-be-husband, Mister Stark," the senator is saying, a gentle smile on her lips.

Tony's about to open his mouth to agree with her when Steve beats him to it, his voice tense and his laugh filled with nervousness.

"Not at all, ma'am," Steve says, earning him a lifted eyebrow from Tony. Still, Steve refuses to look at him and keeps his gaze focused on the woman in front of them. "Tony's a brilliant, kind man. His inventions are changing the world for better, and, well," he chuckles, a sound that's way too forced, "he has't been elected bachelor of the year so many times for nothing. If anything, I'm the lucky one here."

Bullshit, Tony thinks as he squints in his fiancé's direction. It's clear he's trying to pretend this is just the typical thing one says in this situations, but the suddenly firm grip on his waist, as well as the fact that he's no longer drawing shapes over his suit, speaks volumes.

Steve really believes the words that come out of his mouth, and not necessarily in a good way.

But that's not the moment to confront him about it, so he chooses to smile silently and allow the conversation to evolve from that topic.

Later, when the limousine is taking them back to the Tower, he turns to look at Steve with an arched eyebrow. "What was all that about?"

Steve tilts his head, feigning confusion and failing miserably at it. "We don't need to talk about it, Tony."

"The hell we don't," Tony says.

"Everything I said is true," Steve says calmly.

"It's not so much about what you said as it is about how you said it, as if me being all those things puts me over you or something as twisted as that," Tony says, moving his eyes franctically, searching for a sign that Steve doesn't actually believe that.

"It is what it is, Tony," Steve shrugs. "I have no problem with it."

"Well, I do," Tony says, reaching Steve's cheek with his left hand and making sure he's looking at him in the eye. "I’m not half as good at—at anything as I am when I’m doing it next to you. And that’s the truth."

Steve's gaze, defensive until that instant, melts, giving way to something softer, almost emotional. His voice is a mere whisper when he asks, "do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do," Tony whispers too, resting his forehead against Steve's. "You're amazing, not only because of all the great things you do..."

"I don't—"

Tony rolls his eyes. "Shut up, or I'll start naming all the people you saved just this month." He smiles sweetly when Steve squints in his direction, but doesn't try to argue. He goes on: "If you want me to accept everything you said about me back there, you have to admit you're amazing too. You are, and the thing I admire the most about you is how you bring out the best in me."

Steve looks at him in silence, his teeth playing with his lower lip. Then, he whispers, "I'm also a better person with you by my side, Tony."

And Tony does the only thing that makes sense at that point: he leans it, closing the small distance between them and kisses him as he whispers, "I love you."

#stevetony #stony #my fic #my writing #stg 2022 #the stevetony games

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no-gorms · 2 years

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i would actually cry tears of joy if you write a coda or something for your front row seats series 🥺🤲 it's definitely one of my favorites 💗

----

Hi!💜 Okay I don't think this is what you had in mind, because it is Steve and Tony from Front Row Seats, set some time after the end of that series, but it's kind of sillier than what that 'verse usually is.

Established Steve/Tony, pre-Sam/Bucky maybe

----

“This is unexpected,” Wong says.

Strange sighs. “We only asked for you, Stark.”

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but Tony beats him to it by saying, “Steve and I are a package deal, Teller. You’re Teller, he’s Penn. Wait, do they also exist in this universe?”

“Yes,” Peter says quietly.

Tony eyes Peter. “You want a hug, kid?”

Peter winces. “Would that be weird? I mean, it’s cool if it’s weird, it’s not like you know me, I mean you know another me, but not me me, and it’s—”

“Yeah, you need one, c’mere,” Tony says, stepping towards him.

While Tony handles a teary-eyed college-aged superhero, Steve takes stock of the rest of the group currently spread out in what appears to be this universe’s Sanctum. Wong, Strange and Peter are familiar, and not too different from the versions in their home universe. America and Kate, newly introduced, are not; Steve’s curious about the star on America’s jacket, just as he’s curious if Kate’s outfit means that Clint is also dead in this universe, but he’s not going to ask.

Because if he asks, then chances they’re going to start talking about how their Tony Stark is dead, and that is Steve’s least favorite topic of conversation in the multiverse.

“Okay, I thought you’d be taller,” Kate says.

“You lose a couple of inches fighting Thanos,” Steve says.

Kate grins. “That’s fair.”

Rounding off the group are Sam and Bucky. Sam looks pretty much the way he does where Steve and Tony are from, though his white, blue and red suit is different in places. Bucky, however, is almost an entirely different person – startlingly young to begin with, and with more of a soldier’s build than Steve’s Bucky ever had.

“So you got the arm, huh,” Bucky says.

“Yeah,” Steve says, lifting his prosthetic in a hello. It’s easier to not have to explain that their Bucky wasn’t held by Hydra that long. “Too bad we can’t trade for a bit.”

“This mean I’m not Captain America where you are?” Sam asks.

“Oh, our Sam is,” Steve says. “I mostly do other work now, while he takes the Avenging. Not with our Bucky, though.”

“Lucky bastard,” Sam says.

“Don’t be mean,” Bucky says, nudging his elbow.

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, “it sounds like that Sam has more of a team at his back than the one sidekick.”

“That’s because I’m worth a whole team,” Bucky says.

Steve frowns. “Are you two together?”

“What, no!” Sam says. “Nothing like that, no.”

“No,” Bucky says, in a slightly slower voice that makes Steve narrow his eyes.

“We’re just, you know, partners,” Sam says. “Like you and Tony.”

Steve’s scowl deepens, and he reaches over to grab Tony’s sleeve and yank the cuff up to his wrists, revealing Tony’s wedding band. “We’re married.”

“Oh shit,” Sam gasps, while Bucky barks a laugh that turns into a cough.

“Mazel tov,” Wong says. “Did other me attend your wedding?”

“How is that important?” Strange says, exasperated.

“It’s called relationship building,” Wong says.

“Yes, Wong, other you was indeed at our wedding,” Tony says, “but the most important thing is that this means that if you get me killed, you’ll have to deal with this angry bastard getting on your ass, and believe me you don’t want that. An agreeable widow he will not make.”

“Indeed,” Steve says.

“So,” Tony says, clapping his hands together. “What’s so important that you had to punch a hole into another universe to find a spare Tony Stark?”

“Save the universe, or maybe a couple of universes in one go,” America says. “You know. All the fun stuff.”

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #scaramouche writes superhusbands fic #verse: front row seats

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alex-guerin · 2 years

Text

Tonight, for the first time ever, I get to see the very first canonically queer couple I've ever shipped get married and have a hard won Happily Ever After.

Pretty much every fandom I have ever been a part of, I have ended up shipping two male characters:

Jack Kelly/David Jacobs, Racetrack Higgins/Spot Conlon, Specs/Dutchy (1992 Newsies)

Greg House/James Wilson (House M.D.)

Templeton "Faceman" Peck/HM Murdock (The A-Team)

Tony Stark/Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson (The Avengers)

Crowley/Aziraphale (Good Omens -- could be argued they are canon, but it's not explicitly told that they are so for the sake of this we are going with not).

Charles "Trip" Tucker III/Malcolm Reed (Star Trek Enterprise)

It's always been a pipedream, though, to have two characters I love love each other.

Then one night this past March I decided to finally give Roswell, New Mexico a chance while bored and lonely at home, scrolling thru Netflix. I went into it not knowing there was a canon gay character.

The very first time I saw Michael and Alex on screen together, I remember thinking, "Yup. That's it. That's my new ship. I ship them. Don't care."

The next time they were on screen together, I actually sat up on the couch because, omg, their dialog was making it sound like they really could be gay and had been a couple at some point.

And then, this scene happened...

And I am not kidding when I say I fell off my couch flailing and screaming and fighting back tears because OMG THEY ARE!! THEY'RE GAY!! I DON'T HAVE TO PRETEND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER, CUZ THEY ACTUALLY DO!!! And this was the pilot episode!

From that moment on I was hooked. I was so happy to finally have a canon queer couple!! And weirdly enough, they led me to some introspection of my own and made me realize that I myself am queer and that if I were ever able to/brave enough to transition that I would be gay.

I haven't been able to come out to many people except for on here because I know so many people in my life would react badly if I did (i.e. my family and even though I am 36, I do still currently live with them and I'd rather not deal with the fallout while under their roof). But slowly I have been trying to change things -- switching to Old Spice deodorant and bodywash, wearing guys shorts and flannels and pants, giving ambivalent answers to anything referring to me as female. Whatever I can do to make myself feel more like me without drawing too much attention to myself.

But tonight I get to watch my Emotional Support Queers get married. And for me that's like a confirmation that love wins. That even if your blood family hates you for who and what you are (Alex's dad forver hating him and thinking less of him for being gay, despite everything Alex did to try and prove himself worthy of love and respect from his family), it's okay to be who you are. There are people who will and do love you and support you no matter what. I will forever be thankful to these two characters and to the beautiful, wonderful, talented men who were brave enough to portray them so convincingly that for the first time ever I even found myself shipping the actors themselves. And I will also forever be grateful to Tyler Blackburn especially...who didn't finally find the courage to come out as bi until after he got the role as Alex...who was scared of coming out even into his 30s because he was afraid of how his family/father would react. Maybe some day I'll be as brave as him and be able to come out officially.

Thank you, Roswell New Mexico for giving me Malex.

Thank you Michael Guerin and Alex Manes for being so stupidly in love with each other even while trying to move on and be with other people, you were always going to end up with each other because you're cosmic soulmates. I'm going to miss seeing your stupid in love faces on my screen and watching you two grow as characters, a couple and eventually a family.

And finally, thank you Michael Vlamis and Tyler Blackburn, for everything you two have done in support of these characters and community. Your dedication to your characters cannot be beat and we love you both for it.

#alex manes #michael guerin #michael vlamis #tyler blackburn #malex #roswell new mexico

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

Text

In Loving Memory (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @missroro the reader is steve twin and she married to bucky after the blip, she had enough of the 'new captain america' thing shes really mad, so when walker and his friend start talking about joining forces she snap like she pull out a gun and pointing right at them, also sam ofc dont forget about sam. Sam trying to stop her while bucky "nah let her do her fun"

Words: 2021

Warning: !!TFATWS SPOILER!! without context - violence

A/N: wrote this today, it basically follows the events of ep3 of fatws but without context. I have a couple of exams this week so I won't be able to post until next saturday. Until then, enjoy

"You shouldn’t have gave him the shield"

Sam frowned, turning back to look at Bucky.

"I didn’t gave him the shield" He defended himself, making a point.

"Well, Steve definitely didn’t" Y/N ironically answered back.

He gave her a pointed stare. They had had this conversation countless times and Y/N never missed a chance to remind him of what she thought was a huge mistake.

"You are the reason this is happening, Sam. You chose to take on my brother’s legacy and threw it out the window"

The man didn’t reply and pursed his lips. He knew she didn’t mean any of her harsh words, she was angry and still mourning. If taking it out on him could make her feel better, he would let her.

"Y/N, stop" Bucky took a step toward his wife, clasping her hand in his metal one. He had hoped the physical contact would be enough to calm her down.

"He abandoned me, Sam" She continued, her voice filled with emotions. "He was gone and all I had left was memories. I chose this life for him, I fought with him, I believed in everything he represented. I looked up to him, to Captain America. And today, even those memories are gone, taken by the same government you and I were up against, mocked by clowns pretending to be heroes, all because you gave up"

The Falcon closed his eyes and dropped his head. She couldn’t see his point of view, or share his opinions when her judgment was clouded by so much pain. He wished she could understand the dilemma, the duality that represented the shield for him.

"Y/N, please, that’s enough" Bucky whispered next to her ear.

She turned her head toward him and as usual, his heart broke when he saw the torment in her eyes. She didn’t need to speak, she was an open book to him. They both had lost so much and yet were all each other had left. They were collateral damage, their own team against a world that wasn’t theirs anymore. She silently nodded, assuring him she was fine. Sam watched Bucky kissing her forehead and he furrowed his brow. He would never admit it but he was glad they had each other, because no one could carry that much pain alone without crumbling apart.

Before any of them could add anything, soldiers in blue and red erupted in the room, bursting through the door of the apartment where they were hiding in Latvia. Bucky instinctively grabbed Y/N and forced her body to move behind his. The two man stood in front of them, tall and proud, a smug smile on their lips.

"Alright, that’s it, your time is up" The man calling himself Captain America announced, the shield in one hand, the other pointing at the three avengers. "Tell me where Zemo is"

"We know you’re hiding him" His sidekick added.

"I’m ordering you to turn him over"

Sam eyed them up and down.

"Let’s be clear, the only thing you’re running here is your mouth" The Falcon firmly replied, crossing his arms.

"I gave you a chance to work with us" He mentioned.

" ‘For us’ is the correct way to put it, tough guy. And we said no." Y/N reminded him, her face showing how much she was annoyed.

"You’re obviously in over your head so I suggest you turn back and go" Sam argued.

"You really want this conversation to go there ?" The hero threatened.

Bucky straightened up when he felt Y/N tensing. He knew she was already on the verge of snapping. One wrong word from the man she hated and this could go down to hell.

"Should I put down the shield ?" He continued to challenge Sam. "Make it fair?"

The woman groaned and when John Walker dropped his weapon, without a second thought, she grabbed the nearest knife and threw it right at his face. The man had barely enough time to move back and his eyes rose in surprise when the blade stuck itself into the wall with force.

"Sorry, it slipped" She ironically explained, shrugging.

"You don’t want to play this game with me" He tried to intimidate her, tilting his head to the side.

She smiled, pleased he was giving her the opportunity to smack his face. Bucky clenched his fists when he saw her walking in front of Walker. Without tearing her eyes away from his, she seized her knife and pulled it out of the wall with a sharp movement.

"I think someone should teach you a lesson, Walker" She told him in a low tone.

"Are you offering ?" He challenged her.

"Don’t tempt me"

"You’re lucky you’re his sister" He grinned. "But don’t push it. This Captain America is not as lenient as the previous was"

Bucky swore under his breath. It was too late now. And just as Sam looked at him with concern, Y/N threw her fist in a curved punch at the soldier. He used his forearm to counter the blow, but she was faster and had far more experience. Using the momentum, her foot rose up and kicked him in the face. The man was thrown back, shaking his head in confusion.

"We should do something" Sam advised the former assassin.

"No. Let her have her fun" He crossed his arms, harboring a small smirk.

The soldier tried to hit her back, but even when he took the shield she blocked his attack. His sidekick soon joined the fight and distracted her for a second, just enough time for Walker to punch her. Immediately, she felt the taste of blood in her mouth, but no pain. She was passed that, far too pissed to feel anything.

Another blow on her chest send her to the ground and Hoskins hold her down while his friend was about to hit her with her brother’s shield. He raised it in the air, with every intention of beating her, but a strong metal hand stopped him in his movement. A very infuriated Bucky stood before him, his blue eyes darkening with anger. He firmly took the weapon, knocked Hoskins out with it and threw it across the room.

"If you wanted to make it fair, you shouldn’t have chosen to hit my wife" His tone was terrifying.

Walker didn’t seem as confident anymore. Bucky looked imposing, brute force ready to strike. His metal arm clenched in a fist and, without warning, it collided with the soldier’s jaw, sending him a few feet away. He strode to the man on the ground and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform

"This is all easy for you, isn’t it ?" Walker spoke with venom, staring at Bucky. "All that serum running through your veins"

With a swift movement, Y/N took the shield and launched it with power right on the soldier’s chest. The blow was so violent his body crashed into a door before landing on the floor. She was furious by his statement and he could see it with every step she made toward him. She grabbed the gun attached to her thigh and pointed it at his face.

"Lesson number one: learn when to shut up. Especially when you don't know what you're talking about" She was fuming but had not intention on killing the man, despite the sheer desire to do so.

She didn’t realize Sam was next to her until she saw his hand lowering her gun.

"This isn’t what Steve would want." He calmly expressed. "Remember, there’s always another way"

Her lips quivered and she closed her eyes, remembering how many times her brother had told her that. She let him take the weapon and looked up at him. The conviction and kindness in his stare were enough. He didn’t have to say anything. Every words she needed to hear, he spoke them in silence.

She turned back to Bucky and he cupped her face, inspecting the bruise on her skin. He seemed ready to go back and beat the man down. Y/N softly smiled and clasped her hands around his wrists. He stroke her cheek and pulled her toward him before carefully kissing her lips.

"Good ?" He asked in a soft voice he only used with her.

"Good"

It was something between them, a single word they spoke every time they fought. Wherever they were, whomever they were up against, if one of them asked, the other had to answer. It was their intimate way to always know they were alright.

Later that day, Sam and Bucky had decided to go talk to the leader of the Flag Smasher, Karli Morgenthau, while Y/N had been charged to follow Walker and Hoskins. As soon as she had seen they were going after the young super soldier, she had warned her friends about the danger. She knew enough about the new Captain to guess he had no intention on arresting Karli. He wanted to make justice himself. She pitied his sidekick. He seemed like a decent man with good ideas struggling to find virtue on the wrong side of the battle. He was Walker’s collateral damage.

She wondered what Steve would think of all that if he could see them fighting both super soldiers and Captain America. He never cared for the star and stripes, never used his shield to harm. His heart was with the people he defended. Even when it had been against Tony, he pursued what he believed was best. Was that what Walker was trying to do ? She couldn’t know. But she was sure of one thing, the man had nothing in common with Steve. Pride, ego and selfishness were never traits anyone would have used to describe her brother. She couldn’t bear for him to be replaced, especially to a man that didn’t share his morals or any of his opinions. The shield he was carrying wasn’t just a weapon, it was her brother’s symbol of hope, a symbol he had fought so hard to forge. The man made the uniform, not the other way around. That’s what Walker didn’t get. Up until that point, people had not been following Captain America, they had been following Steve Rogers.

Standing in that public square, she didn’t realize she was crying until she felt Bucky entwined his fingers with hers. She couldn’t avert her eyes from the horrific scenery. Powerlessly, she watched a man she didn’t know being executed. His opponent was merciless, striking with determination and rage, using the only piece of memory she had left of her brother to bring terror and death. Frozen on the spot in the middle of the crowd, she could see the fear in all those strangers eyes and it felt like grief coming in waves, a shard in her guts that would never leave. It felt like this particular moment was choking the breath out of her body, short circuiting her mind. What was whole once completely shattered and she couldn’t find the strength to be angry anymore. All her brother had built had fallen apart in the split of a second and all the world had left was a bloodied image of his symbol of hope. A symbol that was no more.

“Sam...” She called him, almost like a scared child.

“I know...”

Both men looked worried. Y/N felt Bucky’s hand trembling and she squeezed him harder. She could easily guess how he felt. Steve had saved both of them, he had gave them a purpose, had allowed the former assassin to be more than the weapon Hydra had made of him. Pieces by pieces, he had brought their family back together. And as they both stood there, witnessing the horrifying end of his legacy, Bucky realized everything his bestfriend had fought for was turning into dust.

"I’m sorry" Y/N whispered to Sam. "But there’s no other way now"

Her husband dropped his head, trying to regain a sense of control over his emotions. Wordlessly agreeing with her, he turned to their friend.

“He has to be stopped”

Tags: @taina-eny

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kasha-formerlydrabbletastic · 3 years

Text

Blowing Off Steam

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Things have always been tense between the reader and Bucky, but what happens when things come to a head?

Word count: 4,269

Warnings: Mature readers only 18+ - minors do not interact! Vaginal sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, Dom/sub themes (who doesn’t love a bratty sub), unprotected sex (always use contraception), swearing.

“You’re lucky I saved your ass!”

“Well, no one fucking asked you to, did they?”

“No, so it looks like I’m not such a fucking prick after all, eh, Y/N?”

“Nope. You’re still a fucking prick, Bucky. Nothing in this world will ever make me change my mind about it either.”

“Need I remind you that -”

“Oh, shut up, the both of you!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the argument, effectively rendering the pair of you mute. It's surprising how long it's taken someone to crack, given the fact that your argument with Bucky started about an hour ago when the team entered the quinjet.

"Every goddamn time you're around each other you gotta argue about something," he continues, holding the attention of most of the team. "I don't want to hear another fucking word out of either of you for the rest of the ride home."

"Good job, Dad," Tony quips.

"But Bucky -"

"But Y/N-"

The pair of you speak at the same time, but Steve cuts you off again.

"Not. Another. Word." He punctuates each word with a jab of his authoritative pointer finger into the air between you. "This is the end of it. Silence. Now."

It takes a moment as you wrestle with the impulse to protest, but you ultimately sit back into your seat, folding your arms tightly over your chest. Bucky seems to do the same, his expression grumpy as ever as the two of you lock eyes.

"Fuck you," you mouth, extending a middle finger toward him.

"Fuck you," he counters silently.

You roll your eyes, settling back once more.

There has never been any real explanation, but from the moment you met him, you and Bucky have locked horns. He's stubborn, pigheaded, so full of himself and the way he operates that you can't help but be annoyed by him.

Then again, a good number of the team are cursed with the same qualities but you seem to get along quite well with them.

What is it about Bucky?

***

Per Steve's demand, there wasn't a single word passed between you and Bucky the rest of the way home. You stripped yourself of your gear after Steve's Dad Moment before sitting back and allowing yourself to take a nap the rest of the way home in your t-shirt and tactical pants. It wasn't until you got into the compound and to your desk in the team's shared office that any of your frustration boiled over again.

"Fucking asshole," you muttered between gritted teeth as you glanced over at Bucky's empty desk; his paperwork sits on the surface, needing to be done, but the man himself is nowhere to be found. Granted you are the only one at your desk doing paperwork.

Or so you thought.

"Thinking about me again?" you hear him say behind you.

You swivel in your chair to face him, his face smug as ever as steam rises up from the two mugs of coffee he holds.

"Well, not everything is about you, Bucky," you say. "Believe it or not."

"I would believe it if it were true," he grins; you make to reply, but he carries on. "I was gonna give this to you as a peace offering," he says, gesturing with one of the mugs of coffee, "but I don’t think you’ve learned Steve's lesson yet. So I'm just gonna keep it for myself. I am so tired, anyway."

He strides toward his desk, swaggering with each step, and it's almost as if you can't help the knee-jerk reaction of sticking your foot out into his path. His feet get caught up with yours, tripping him up enough that he loses grip of the mugs and stumbles forward; the mugs smash on the floor, but Bucky's reflexes refuse to let him fall too. He straightens up quickly, turning on his heel and staring daggers at you.

"Enjoy your coffee, Sergeant Barnes," you chuckle.

"What the fuck?" Bucky shouts.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you begin, wanting to taunt him but you get no further.

"Y/N, Bucky."

The two of you turn to Steve, who has finally returned to the office dressed in a basic t-shirt and jeans. He is more stern than you've ever seen him, standing with his arms crossed and his expression disappointed. He is very much the captain with his stance, staring the two of you down as if you were naughty children.

"Clean this up and then meet me in the conference room," he directs, his voice low and tone ominous.

You watch as he leaves, then switch your gaze to Bucky; you don't know what's about to happen, but something tells you Steve has had enough of the bullshit. It's possible you're about to lose your spot on the team, you think, and panic fills your chest as you stand from your chair, ignoring Bucky to the fullest as you reach for a trash can.

"Fuck," you murmur, picking up shards of mug and tossing them into the bin.

Bucky appears shortly after with several towels in hand, wiping up the coffee and smaller pieces before just chucking them into the bin, too.

With the mess cleaned up, the two of you silently march to the conference room where Steve sits at the head of the table.

"Oh, good," he says sarcastically, "you two managed to work together and accomplish something in a timely fashion, how about that?"

You take your seat next to him, wanting to ask what this is about but knowing full well what he's about to say. Bucky sits opposite you, quiet and brooding, and you feel a lurch of annoyance in your belly. You roll your eyes again, looking to Steve, trying to convey in your eyes the question, "How long do I have to stay here with him?" Steve doesn't look at you, though, his eyes fixed on his folded hands in front of him before he speaks.

"I don't know what it is about the two of you being around each other, but whatever it is, you need to cut it out," he says. "It's detrimental to the team working as a whole, not to mention it is fucking irritating."

Something in you rises to be defensive, but another, more rational side begins to kick in, keeping your mouth shut for a moment.

"The number of complaints I get from everyone else is almost ridiculous, guys. And it's only a matter of time before the two of you are bickering like an old married couple and someone gets hurt because you're not giving your full attention."

You had been so caught up with how much you and Bucky annoyed each other that not much else in your mind spared the time to think about how it might affect the team and your missions. Steve is right - and you know it - that one of these days, you and Bucky will be going at it and one of you will slip. You won't necessarily be the one who suffers, but it's likely that if the two of you continue on with your childish back-and-forth, you might lose track of a target, lose a mission, or worse, lose a teammate. With that thought, shame floods you, and you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest and gritting your teeth to keep from saying anything stupid.

"With that being said," Steve continues, "you two need to figure this out as soon as possible. What really gets me is that you're both so valuable to the team, but you let your bullshit get in the way of your effectiveness." Steve glances at the door, his expression shifting ever so slightly. "Actually... I'm gonna leave you two here for a minute, something just came up."

The slightest surge of panic rears in your chest as Steve gets up from his chair. You watch him incredulously as he leaves you here with Bucky, closing the door behind him. If you're not mistaken, though, you hear the door lock and your panic peaks just a little more.

You rise from your seat, following Steve's footsteps to the door and trying the handle; it doesn't budge.

"Fuck," you mumble. "FRIDAY, unlock the door, please."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," FRIDAY replies, "the orders are to keep the door locked for the next thirty minutes, barring an emergency."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" you grumble, rubbing the palms of your hands into your eyes.

You almost don't register it, but you hear Bucky chuckle, a quiet laugh that brings your attention to him.

"What's funny about this?" you demand, just as quietly.

He sits back in his chair, strangely relaxed given that he's locked into the room with you. There's genuine amusement in his expression as he lounges, setting his hands on top of his head.

"Typical Steve," he says, looking at you with a sparkle in his eye. "Thinking he can save everyone."

You don't say anything, but shrug helplessly in agreement - probably agreeing with Bucky for the first time since you've known him.

"I guess he doesn't realize that he can't save everyone," you mutter, sitting back down.

Bucky shrugs this time. "That thought has never even occurred to him, I can promise you that."

Sparing a glance at Bucky, you fall into silence, unsure of what to say. He doesn't offer anything either, his smile slowly fading as the seconds tick on. The air thickens around you, the awkwardness growing more ungainly the longer neither of you speak. Though, it's possible that the whole thirty minutes have elapsed or that it's only been a few seconds before you figure out something to say.

"I'm sorry I tripped you earlier," you say quietly.

Bucky had been staring at the table, but he brings his gaze to you, studying you with a curiosity he has never once shown you before. He seems to take his time before he replies.

"I accept your apology," he says, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. "I'm sorry for... everything."

The moment hangs there, seconds ticking by as the two of you study each other; now that you look at him, finally confronting the reasons why you tease and antagonize him, you figure that maybe he's not always so grumpy-looking. There's a sparkle in his blue eyes, something witty and sweet that you've never allowed yourself to notice before. He's got a strong jaw, pretty pink lips, and a smile to die for. At once, it clicks why you've been so eager to step on every one of his nerves.

Something shifts in his expression, and he pushes his chair back, standing up. He doesn't take his eyes from you as he circles the table, but you push your chair back, too, taking after his lead. By the time he reaches you, you stand, facing him as the space between you shrinks.

Then, as if magnets pull you together, the pair of you collide; Bucky's flesh fingers curve around the back of your head, cradling it as he lowers his lips to yours. Despite how out of the blue this is, you melt into him, your hands finding his waist and pulling him close. His kiss is warm, his body taut under your touch as his other arm curls around your body, pressing your chests together. Your skin tingles in every place it meets his as the kiss deepens, each of you parting your lips for the other as your tongues explore new territory.

Then, as if your bodies can't get close enough, Bucky leans forward, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifts you onto the table. He doesn't once break the kiss, but as soon as you're settled, his hips knock your knees apart. Instinctively, your legs wrap around him, urging him closer to you. Your arms curl around his neck, too, making sure he doesn't get too far away from you. He responds, taking you in his arms in kind.

You don't know how long it lasts, and you don't care, especially when his lips stray, tracing your jaw and finding your pulse.

"Oh, Bucky," you sigh, your skin on fire from his touch.

"James," he says quietly against your neck.

For a moment, you pull back, staring into his eyes and smiling.

"James," you acknowledge, and he smiles too.

In the next second, though, a wickedness settles into his expression, a sly grin taking the sweet smile's place as his hands meet the button and fly of your pants. He pulls them open, his hand diving immediately into your panties.

"Fuck!" you gasp as his fingers slip between you lips, brushing over your clit to briefly dive into your heat.

"God damn," he groans. "Doll, you feel so good. You're so fucking wet for me."

You scoff, looking him dead in the eye. "Please. I'm sure if it were anyone else I'd still be just as wet."

"You sure about that?" he says, his eyes glittering with promise as he presses his fingertips to your clit, circling the singing nerves as if he's known how to all his life.

"Mmm," you hum, your fingers bunching into the front of his shirt as you pull him forward. "We'll just have to see, I guess."

"You're damn right," he says before crushing his lips to yours. He slips his fingers into you, his thumb working circles against your clit, and you moan into his mouth. "That's right, doll. I make you feel so fucking good, don't I?"

A sly smile of your own tugs at your lips as you pull your head back.

"Meh, I've had better."

He pauses for a moment, staring you in the face before he chuckles. He takes his hand from you as he uses his free hand to push you by the shoulder, urging you onto your back before he tugs your pants off, taking your panties with them.

"Spread those legs for me, Y/N," he orders softly, and you comply.

At once, his hand finds your heat again, his metal fingers diving in and curling against your g-spot as his flesh fingers work your clit. In no time at all, you writhe on the tabletop, the entirety of your energy focused on not coming, not giving in to his ego. It's no use, however, as he hits the right spots at the right time.

"Fuck!" you grunt, your toes curling as ecstasy explodes from your core; the orgasm rips through your body, rushing through your blood with a ferocity you've never known before as your heart pounds from your chest.

"I fucking told you, doll," Bucky teases, his hands slowing down before he removes them. "Look at you. All wrecked for me."

"You wish," you say, rising up onto your elbows to see Bucky's grin falter just slightly. "Why don't you really wreck me, James? Why don't you fuck the attitude out of me?"

Heat floods your body at the idea, but just then, Bucky smiles wider as the mischievous glint in his eyes seems to take him over completely.

"You want me," he begins slowly, his hands dropping to his belt, "to fuck," he undoes his belt, popping open the button on his pants, "the attitude," he pulls on the zipper, slipping his underwear down enough that his cock tumbles from its confines and into his hand, "out of you?"

Your eyes fix on his engorged, weighty flesh as he strokes himself, imagining what it would feel like to be split in half by it.

"You want it," he says; it's not a question at all, but an entirely accurate statement.

You meet his eyes once more to see the cockiest expression on his face.

"And what if I said yes?" you reply.

Bucky leans in, his lips close to yours.

"Beg me for it," he murmurs against your mouth.

"No," you say, pushing him away gently as you slip off the table; your hand just barely closes around his girth and strokes. "I won't beg for it." You get to your knees, coming face to face with his gorgeous cock. "But you will."

"You think so, Y/N?" he laughs, but moans the minute you take him into your mouth. "Fuuuuuuck."

You swirl your tongue around the head before taking him as far back into your mouth as you can. Bucky nearly whimpers the moment the tip enters the back of your throat and you swallow around him. It takes everything you've got to keep from laughing at him as he leans over, bracing himself on the table.

Bobbing your head along his shaft, you listen to him; he curses, making pleas to God as you work him up. He tries to hold it together, but the way you suck and lick and tease has him squirming. Before you know it, though, he yanks himself from you with a growl, picking you up off the floor and turning you around; his erection presses against your ass as he twines his fingers in your hair, pressing your hips against the table.

"Baby doll," he croons in your ear, his chest hard against your back. "You think you're so cute, eh? Just you wait, Y/N. Just you wait."

He presses you down onto the tabletop, his hand still gripping your hair. Almost instantly, you feel the tip of his cock brush your lips, sliding along your heat to press against your clit for just a moment. He does this a few times before he finally presses into your center.

The moment hangs in the air as your anticipation grows, your yearning to be filled finally being granted only Bucky doesn't continue. He stays, just the tip of his cock planted in you for a moment before it slips out again, and you let out the smallest whine.

"Oh, doll," he says, his tone mocking. "Did you want that? Did you want my big fat cock inside you?"

You collect your wits, unwilling to let him win.

"I bet you want to get inside me, James," you say, your hand finding his in your hair. "God, I bet you want to fuck me. I bet you've always wanted to fuck me, from the minute you met me."

He slips his cock along your heat again, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as it meets your clit; he bounces his cock against it a few times before teasing it with gentle circles.

"I bet you've thought of nothing but this pussy since I joined the team," you continue, baiting him into giving in. "I bet that's why you're such a prick, because you could never have it. You wanna know what I think, James?"

"What do you think, Y/N?" he replies, replacing his tip back into your center as he leans over you, his face growing closer to yours.

"I think," you say, adjusting so you can see his face better, "that there have been so many times that you've imagined having me. Times when you found yourself imagining me in this exact position, with your dick buried inside me, and couldn't help but rub one out. You ever fucked yourself to the thought of me, James?"

Bucky chuckles. "Doll, you have no idea. But if we're placing bets, I bet you've done the same. You think I don't know? On all those missions we've been on, you think I didn't hear you fuck yourself in the next room? That I don't know that's how you blow off steam?"

You smile as he presses just a little further into your heat.

"Doll," he says, standing up and bringing you with him until your back arches against his chest, his lips brushing your ear as he continues, "you think I haven't heard you call my name?"

"Looks like we're at an impasse," you chuckle.

Bucky laughs too, dragging hot, wet kisses along your neck for a second.

"Nah," he says, letting go of your hair as he slowly curls his hand around your neck, pushing your head back onto his shoulder. "Because I've got the upper hand here."

"So you think," you quip as he presses just a little further into you; your body tenses, awaiting the full feeling of his cock.

"Oh, I know, Y/N," he says, retreating just a little. “I know for damn sure. Now, what do we say?”

“I don’t know, what do we say?”

He offers a dark chuckle as he pulls all the way out. “If you’re not gonna be a good girl, I won’t fuck you.”

“I wish I could believe you, Barnes,” you reply. “But seeing as how I haven’t complied with you yet and you’re still here with your hard-on poking me in the ass cheek, I just can’t take you all that seriously.”

“That’s fair,” he says before suddenly letting go of you.

You turn around, fairly surprised as you watch him hitch his pants back up, putting his cock away.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you say with an incredulous laugh.

“Well, I’m sitting back down until Steve gets back,” he says, checking the time. "There's still about fifteen minutes before he gets back."

Once more collecting your wits, you smile. With an idea coalescing in your brain, you stride to his side of the table, hopping up onto the tabletop right next to him to ensure that he sees everything you're about to work with.

"Well, then," you say, spreading your legs as your fingers meet your aching clit. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm a little worked up right now and I need to, as you said, blow off steam."

Bucky's smile falters as his eyes drop from yours to between your legs, watching you work. The very fact that he's watching sends another flood of arousal to your already dripping cunt, your need for release growing stronger by the second.

"Mmm," you hum, slipping your fingers into yourself.

Bucky doesn't look away once. On the contrary, he rises from his seat, looking pained as he witnesses your pleasure. You put on a show, your moans and whimpers growing more frequent; the move has the desired effect as Bucky's hand drops to the erection in his pants, palming it through the fabric.

"Fuck," he murmurs, yanking his pants down once more. He moves forward, hand around his cock to position himself inside you, but you were waiting for this; you lean forward, pressing your hand against his chest to stop his progress toward you.

"I'm sorry," you say, "but what are you doing?"

"I'm fucking you," he says, stepping forward once more, but you hold your ground.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

He moves forward again, but you still keep him at bay.

"And what do we say, James?" you purr.

"What?" he replies.

You lean closer to him, your lips almost brushing his as you say, "Beg me for it."

"Are you serious?" he says, getting impatient.

"Damn right I am," you reply.

Bucky struggles with it for a moment, but seems to decide to fold.

"Y/N," he says, stroking his cock, a drop of precum beading on the tip. "Please."

"Please what?" you reply, relishing in the frustration showing through his features.

"Please, please, let me fuck you."

You grin, satisfied that you won, as you let your hand slide around the back of his neck from his chest, pulling his mouth against yours as he immediately buries himself inside you.

"Ah!" you moan against his lips as he fills you to the hilt.

"God fucking dammit," he groans. "You feel so fucking good, Y/N."

At once, he begins thrusting, his hands holding tight onto your hips as he moves. You lean back onto one arm, your other hand finding your clit once again, pressing circles against yourself.

"Fuck, Y/N," he says, his thrusts growing quicker.

His cock drags along your g-spot, the perfect sensation to accompany your clitoral stimulation. In next to no time, you snap, your body bombarded by your next orgasm.

"Oh, fuck," Bucky says through gritted teeth as you pulse around him.

His grip tightens on you as his hips press quicker, harder than ever, before they stutter; he pulls out, his hand grasping his cock and stroking it until he comes. Spurts of cum land on your thigh, thick and warm, as Bucky tries to get his breathing under control, his forehead landing on your shoulder for support.

He takes a moment, straightening up once he’s gotten control of himself. As he backs away, his eyes fix on yours, a soft grin pulling at his lips. He puts himself back together, zipping and buttoning his pants deliberately.

“You win,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I know,” you laugh, watching as he moves around the table to grab your pants and underwear from where he pulled them off of you. He walks them back to you, handing them over. “Clean it.”

Once more, his mischief is written all over his face as he bends down, using his tongue to mop up his mess. The sensation tingles along your thigh to your core, and you wish you had longer than just the thirty minutes allotted to the two of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, staying put as he stands back up.

“Good boy,” you say, pulling his face to yours for a kiss.

“Looks like I’m your bitch now,” he says with a chuckle.

“Oh, doll,” you say, taking delight in the look on his face as you use his word. “It was bound to happen.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #reader insert

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tvseries-writings · 3 years

Note

Heyy bestie can i pls request a natasha x reader where R finds out she's pregnant? like maybe they did sperm donation or something and she tells nat and nat starts crying and its all really fluffy :)) thank you sm!!

The right time

You always knew you wanted to have children. At nine you asked your mother how babies were made and she told you that a baby was created in the belly of a "young lady" - she had defined every single woman on the planet this way - only after a simple, very very tight hug between a boy and a girl. Needless to say, you were traumatized and hadn't hugged any "boy" for a long time. Then, at 12, you discovered how children were really made and it made you even more disgusting as you discovered that you were a lesbian and therefore never thought about it again. Until you met Natasha in your third year of college.

The two of you have been together for over six years now and after getting married two years ago you decided you wanted children to give your love to.

It hadn't been easy, two months of constant arguing and slamming doors but in the end you convinced Natasha to become a mom. You immediately offered to bring the baby, Nat had undergone a sterilization operation from the Red Room at a young age and even though Shuri had restored her fertility thanks to Wakanda technology, you knew she was not yet ready to carry a baby and so you had decided that you would have done it in his place, at least this time and then who knows… life is a constant change.

At first Natasha was against it, she was afraid that she would not be a good mother, that the Red Room had changed her so profoundly that she would fail with any child in her custody but you had changed her mind now you were faced with the realization of the your dream. A pregnancy test placed on the sink, ready to be turned over to show the result.

You had done the first insemination six months earlier and it didn't go well; you had a miscarriage in the third week and although they warned you that the first one would most likely not work, it was still hard to overcome. You were locked up in your room, you got under the covers and you hadn't gone out for two weeks, despite Nat's pleas, nor had you eaten anything. Then came the arguments - which lasted for days - and in the end you decided to see a couple counselor.

Her name is Diane, you go there again and things have been much better thanks to her. In fact, you have also managed to undertake the second insemination.

After four weeks you have decided to take the test and now you are waiting for the results.

The timer rings and you turn it off hastily, your heart beats fast as you take the test in your hands and turn it very, very slowly.

The two dashes immediately catch your eye and your eyes fill with tears.

"I'm pregnant," you whisper to the mirror and smile as the tears fall to the ground.

You book a follow-up visit right away and the next day, when Dr. Fields gives you confirmation of your pregnancy, you can't help but keep smiling on the way home.

You open the door of the small house that Tony bought there just outside New York; the smile on your lips has not yet disappeared as you enter yours and scream to try to get Natasha's attention.

"Nat, love, I'm back!"

You place your car keys on the cabinet at the entrance and take off your coat before hanging it on the coat hanger. You head into the kitchen and be surprised by what you see.

The table is set for two - Nat has pulled out the good tablecloth - and a vanilla-scented candle is lit in the center of the table.

"What have I done to deserve all this?"

Natasha takes you by the hips and leaves you a kiss on her lips. Although you've been together for years, her kisses, her cuddles, her hugs, her comforting words ... nothing about her has tired you yet.

You smile as soon as the kiss ends and gently caress her face.

"How did you go with Steve?" you ask referring to the mission she had done with the Captain the night before.

"It went well, it was just a false alarm but I don't want to talk about work now" she pulls away from your touch and takes the bottle of burgundy before pouring it into the two glasses on the table.

You take a deep breath when she hands you the glass of wine.

Natasha frowns when she sees you don't take it.

"Honey, are you all right? You never refuse burgundy "Natasha moves a lock of hair behind her face and looks at you with a little concern on her face.

You nod and take the pregnancy test out of your pocket while still holding it behind your back.

"I have to show you something, close your eyes"

Natasha looks at you in confusion before doing what you said.

"Luckily I trust you," she smiles at you and you make her open her hand before putting her pregnancy test there.

Natasha squeezes it and then opens her eyes; she turns it around in her hands three times before a sob escapes her lips.

"Will we have a baby?" she asks with tears in her eyes and you smile - nodding - as your eyes fill with tears again.

"We will have a baby Nat"

She smiles at you through her tears and takes you by the hips making you spin. As soon as she puts you back on the ground she kisses you and you reciprocate immediately.

She hugs her body to yours and squeezes your hair lightly as she deepens the kiss.

"Fuck, I love you so much," she whispers finishing the kiss and looking into her eyes with a smile on her face.

"I love you too Nat" you give her another kiss before she kneels in front of you and brushes your belly with her fingers.

"If it's a boy I want to call him Pietro" you smile thinking of Wanda, she would appreciate it very much. Then nod and laugh when Natasha starts kissing her belly as she lifts your shirt up above your navel.

"And if she's a sissy, I want to call her Peggy"

Natasha has always respected Peggy, both as a woman and as the founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. and you are not surprised with this choice. Then nod again and your smile widens even more when Natasha starts talking to your belly.

"It doesn't matter who you love or if you won't feel comfortable with your body or if you will be sad ... we will always be treasure and we will never abandon you" Natasha whispers leaving you a few kisses just below the navel, sending you a few loving glances every now and then.

Natasha's gaze is definitely one more reason why someone should fall in love with her right now - not that other reasons are needed - and you are hoping with all of yourself that this pregnancy will go well but for once you feel optimistic: in your opinion is a boy.

Thanks for reading! I hope it is as you would have liked it; leave a comment if you want <3

Marvel Masterlist

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ifwewere-gay · 2 years

Text

Stephen strange, going back to 2012 while Steve and tony are fighting: *slaps Steve* keep my wife's name OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH

everyone else: .....

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aquanova99 · 2 years

Text

Dinner Date (Bucky x Reader)

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Summary: Bucky isn’t fond of you getting close to people who are no good for you. But he definitely has a funny way of showing it

A/N: oh my god am I actually updating again 😂😂 hopefully I keep getting more ideas

A/N: as always thank you to anyone who takes the time to read. I appreciate you!

A/N: please reblog if this is something you like! Requests open!

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Will you put me down?!?”

“Well if it isn’t our favorite couple.” Wilson joked before he saw you injured, “what happened?”

You were about to speak before Bucky cut you off. “She decided it was smart to jump in front of a knife.”

“Yeah well, remind me not to try and help you out next time Barnes.”

“I didn’t ask for help.”

“You didn’t say thank you either, now please. Beat it. I need stitches and you stress me out.” You weren’t going to tell him you also didn’t want him to see you upset, seeing your blood made you nervous and he was not about to get the upper hand for next time. He mumbled thank you and left you to your thoughts in the med bay. You’d always found Bucky interesting, even if all you did was get at eachothers throats, there was something underneath the loner façade he put out. For whatever reason the only person besides Steve and Sam he talked to was you, but the only conversations you got out of him were arguments. Sam liked to joke that you were an old married couple, but you were pretty sure the last thing on Buckys mind was you.

Once you were all stitched up Steve came in to check on you. “Getting into trouble again, y/n?”

“Always.” You smiled at him, when Nat had told him of the training you had gone in in the red room Steve all but adopted you. Nat did too, they were both impressed that you escaped without outside help. You had the scars to prove it.

“Thanks for helping Bucky tonight.”

“All part of the job.” You peeked around him in case Bucky was still around, he was. You weren’t sure how much he knew about the dinner you were going to be having, “so any advice for my date this week?”

Steve understood right away, “I think everything will be fine. We can talk about it more later if you want.”

“My room? I need help picking an outfit anyways.”

Steve laughed, “Sure, y/n.”

The two of you weren’t in your room long, the two of you quickly got down to business. You just hoped the walls didn’t have ears.

“You need to tell Bucky. He isn’t going to like that hes the last to know.”

“I don’t know if I want to risk that yet y/n, I’ll tell him after.”

“Before.” You crossed your arms

“Alright.” He put his hands up in mock surrender “I’ll tell him the day of, before you go out.”

Thanks to Starks friend you were healed up in just enough time for the dinner. The week had been tense Bucky had gone from arguing with you to radio silence. You weren’t sure which was worse, honestly. You focused on getting ready. Nat helped pick out a red dress.

“This will make sure to distract him.”

“Good, that’s the plan.” You winked at her. The cons at working at the tower is anyone could see you leave at any given time. Unfortunately, Bucky was hanging around the bar with Sam. You weren’t entirely sure how much Steve told him. He had left for a mission earlier that day with Tony and you didn’t want to ask. Not like he was talking to you anyways.

“Wow y/n. You clean up nice!” Sam said

“Thanks Sam! I’ll be back later.” You quickly headed out to the restaurant Steve and Nat had told you about. It wasn’t too far of a walk but you took an uber just to be safe. You quickly found the man you were supposed to meet.

“Hi.” You extended your hand when you joined him at the table. He stood up and kissed your hand. Charming.

“So you really are just as lovely in person.” His accent was thick, you had expected him to blend in a little better.

“Glad we could finally meet up.”

You’d barely sat down and begun talking before your meal was interrupted.

“Come on.” He grabbed you by your arm but you shook him off

“What is your problem?”

‘“Do you even know who you’re dealing with?”

“Yes. Idiot.” You hissed under your breath, “I’m supposed to be getting intel.”

Bucky stepped back “I didn’t…” You saw the agent leave the restaurant.

“Great.” You muttered under your breath. You turned to head back to the tower. There was a lot of paperwork that was going to need to be done. You had to start from ground zero, and now all you were worried about was why the hell Bucky was interrupting you.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?”

“No one told me about this.” Of course Steve didn’t tell him. He sighed when it finally hit him, “Hydra?”

“Yeah.” You continued walking. You understood why Steve wanted to protect Bucky, you probably would have wanted to do the same. But if anything this probably made him feel like Steve didn’t trust him. “I’m sorry he didn’t tell you.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“First of all, I didn’t know you didn’t know. And second, its not my job to tell YOU anything. Last I checked, we aren’t friends and you didn’t want anything to do with me. Why were you following me?”

You saw him scratch his hair out of the corner of your eye. “I thought it was weird you were leaving this late. Then I thought you were actually getting involved with that guy.”

You didn’t dare get your hopes up, “And? Why do you care?”

“Look. You need to be more careful. Even if this was a mission he could have killed you.”

“Do you actually think I’m that stupid? I have a tracking device in my earring if things got bad. And I can protect myself.” You could feel your anger rising. “You know, I really don’t see how its any of your business anyways. What you care now all of a sudden?” You were almost back at the tower

“Look. I was trying to do you a favor.” Since when does he care?

“I didn’t ask for one.” You were waiting for the elevator now. It didn’t take long for one to arrive

Bucky asked his next question as you were getting on, “What is your deal right now? You act as if I hate you?”

“I think its pretty obvious you do, and you know what? The feeling is mutual. Are you happy? I hate you.”

Suddenly the elevator jerked to a stop. Before you could ask Bucky why he pulled the emergency stop he grabbed you. Your back was suddenly up against the wall. Bucky slammed his lips against yours, you melted into him. You weren’t sure you wanted to stop, the second you began questioning what you were doing Bucky pulled away.

“Say it again. Say you hate me.”

“…”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He had a smug grin on his face. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @artaxerxesthegreat @aunt-pipie @avyannadawn @imtoanonymousforyou @lacychick @minghao3o @quarthly @volturiwolf @ajeff855 @user13cabs @vxidnik @nenchiro

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strawwritesfic · 2 years

Text

Peter Parker x Pregnant!Female!Stark!Reader: Where Gods Do Fear to Tread [Ch. 4]

Summary: The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, the best laid plans of teenagers even more so.

Challenge: “9 Months” challenge by crackleviolet on Lunaescence Archive -- Bonus Two -- Teenage Pregnancy

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (sexual references; two underage people having consensual sex off the page; teenage pregnancy; family drama; mixed families; teenage cruelty; discussion of abortion; discussion of adoption; foul language; crude humor; postpartum depression; Stark!Reader; Lila & Reader friendship)

Pairings: Peter Parker x Female!Reader; Tony/Pepper; Happy/May; Steve/Bucky; Clint/Laura; past!Tony/Reader’s Mom

Tag List: @imaginesfire, @plutoneu

Master List

Chapter 4: Surprise!

Over the course of your admittedly short life, you had learned one truth for certain: waiting was the greatest agony anyone could endure. Whether it was waiting for the cancer to take your mother’s life; waiting for the results of the DNA test to declare whether or not Tony Stark really was your father or waiting for Peter to get around to asking you out, the times you spent without any recourse to act on your own always stood out as the worst.

The week leading up to that fateful Christmas dinner with the Parkers (and Happy) was no different. You seemed to rush through every single activity in a haze of anxiety. Though you put a painstaking amount of effort into your hair and your makeup and your clothes that evening, you were still left your private bathroom with plenty of time to loiter in the entrance hall before they arrived.

“Hey, kiddo. Good to see you out of your room for once,” your dad said as you stepped inside.

You still hadn’t told him the truth. How could you? Pepper might not have been eager to have guests for the holidays, but your dad always was. Telling him you’d slept with one of those guests would ruin not just his party but his entire Christmas. The only way you could even begin to quash the gnawing guilt in your stomach was to stay locked in your room—and you kind of wish you’d thought to stay there until everyone else got there that night, too.

“You look nice,” he said into the uncomfortable silence. He wore a simple dark suit, something you hardly ever saw him in at home. Seeing that he’d dressed up as well came as some relief, since you’d sort of gone overboard with your own party clothes, if for no other reason than needing something to do with your hands.

“Thanks,” you managed to mutter. “Is anyone else here yet?”

“Just waiting on May, Peter, and Happy.”

“So everyone else already got here?”

Your dad shook his head. “It is just them this year. Your Uncle Rhodey got called out on a last minute job.”

“Steve and Bucky?”

“Wanted to spend their first Christmas Eve as a married couple without having to argue with me over who gets the last piece of Pepper’s fudge.”

Thank God. The fewer people you had to pretend in front of the better. Though you now had only five to worry about, you still felt mere inches away from completely losing your head. Some of this must have shown on your face, because your dad frowned and moved closer to you.

“Are you that upset about not seeing Steve and Bucky for Christmas?” Before you could shake your head, he’d already moved on. “Nah, that’s stupid. You don’t want to share the fudge either. [Name], are you all right? You’ve been acting a little weird lately.”

It was so much harder for you to pretend when he looked you right in the eyes like that. “Weird how?” you asked.

“Just quiet. Hiding in your room all the time. Is that group project still bugging you? We could look into transferring you somewhere else if the girls are becoming a problem.”

“No!” you said swiftly, and immediately regretted it.

“No, that’s not what’s bothering you, or no, you don’t want to transfer schools? Because I thought we had a major blowout because you wanted to go to school with Peter.”

Why, oh why hadn’t you kept your big mouth shut? Now was not the time to confess to your father that your preoccupation lay in the overwhelmingly terrifying knowledge that you were going to have a baby. Yes, you had whined about going to Midtown School of Science and Technology before, but you highly doubted your dad would be gung-ho about a transfer once he found out that even going to different schools had not prevented you from being alone with Peter long enough to get knocked up.

An unusual worry line appeared in your father’s forehead. He placed both his hands on your shoulders.

“What aren’t you telling me, [Name]?” he asked.

You felt an intense pressure on the backs of your eyes as he gazed at you. When no one else had wanted you, he had taken you in. He was your dad. It wasn’t as though he’d never been in a similar position before; he just hadn’t been aware of it at the time. Surely he would still love you after you told him…but how he’d feel about Peter was an entirely different story. Then again, how long could you hold out just to keep Peter safe?

A minute or two passed. Finally, you wilted under your father’s obvious concern. “Dad, I—”

The elevator doors pulled open, cutting off your confession in the nick of time.

“We’re here!” May called as she, Peter, and Happy swept into the foyer.

May was wearing an absolutely beautiful sparkling dress in navy, Happy his usual black and white suit, and Peter…well, Peter had on an nice-looking suit of his own, but also an expression of blank horror that caused your stomach to jolt as though you’d missed a step coming down the stairs.

Your father seemed to forget all about your conversation the second May came up to embrace him. “Hey, May.” He kissed her cheek. “Hanukkah Sameach.”

“Ah! Chag Sameach to you, too. Thanks so much for having us.”

“Don’t mention it. I hate having the place empty during the holidays. Reminds me too much of my childhood.”

While Happy stepped up to shake your dad’s hand, May walked over to hug you in turn. “Hey, you. How’s it going?” she asked.

“Fine,” you lied.

She was warm and smelled like honey. To your vast relief, she did not contradict your answer. Peter had kept his word. His aunt didn’t know your dirty secret yet either.

Clearly, Peter wasn’t happy about this, though. His hug following May’s was as stiff as it had ever been. He raised his eyebrows as he moved away, and there was no need for him to speak for you to understand what he was getting at.

You replied with a minuscule shake of your head.

His eyebrows contracted into one long line.

The next look you sent him was pleading: please, please understand.

This silent conversation might have gone on for some time, had Happy not interrupted with, “You two can make googly eyes at each other over the table, can’t you? I’m starving.”

“Coming!” you and Peter said, in similarly high-pitched voices. One last shared glance, then you trooped after the adults to the dining room where Pepper was waiting, a tiny pine wreath worked into a halo atop her long red hair.

“Merry Christmas!” May said cheerfully, sliding into the seat across from her.

“I’m not sure what’s so merry about it,” Pepper griped.

Happy smiled as he sat down next to his girlfriend. “Pregnancy treating you well, I take it?”

“Unless you want to find out how it feels to be stabbed by a carving fork, I suggest you don’t mention it again.”

“Duly noted.”

Your dad kissed Pepper on the temple before he sat at the head of the table. She sent him a look of pure venom in return. Luckily the seating arrangements left you and Peter across from each other with a gap between you and your hormonal step-mother. The subject you needed to speak of couldn’t be brought up without notice, but at least you could count on Happy and your father to bear the brunt of Pepper’s temper.

Soon, everyone was too caught up in eating to give anymore thought to your strange behavior. Mashed potatoes, turkey, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, and latkes mingled together on every plate. Pepper took a whole extra scoop of the casserole, the dish you’d spent the better part of the morning laboring over to get just like the one your mother used to make. You remained so busy inhaling your own food that it took you nearly emptying your plate to realize that Peter hadn’t touched his.

“You okay?” you asked.

“No,” he said incredulously.

A great swooping sensation filled your stomach, as though you’d just gone tumbling off the top of the tower or something. He really wanted to talk about this here? Now? Okay, so you hadn’t really done a lot of communicating with him since he’d left the day you’d told him the awful truth—but you thought you had both agreed it would be too easy for his aunt or your dad to accidentally see a text message they shouldn’t! Your dad’s Christmas dinner party was hardly the place to resume the discussion, even if all the adults seemed thoroughly invested in whatever conversation they were having.

Peter looked over to see the same thing you did. Apparently that did enough to assuage his nerves, because he plowed right on:

“I thought you were going to tell him!”

“I was,” you whispered hotly.

“Then what happened?”

“What happened was that we wound up having this!”

“So?”

“So? Peter, what do you think would happen if we told everyone before tonight?”

“Hey,” Happy called down the table. “You guys have something you’d like to share with the class?”

“No, sir,” you and Peter chorused.

You both immediately crammed huge bites of food into your mouths to prevent anyone from asking further questions. Happy’s eyes narrowed, but after a moment of uncomfortable silence, the four adults returned to their own conversation. Peter, on the other hand, did not return to anything resembling inconspicuous behavior.

“We can’t just not tell anybody, [Name]! Someone’s gonna find out.”

“I know, okay?”

“I don’t like keeping secrets.”

You tossed your fork onto your plate, completely oblivious to the clatter that arose from doing so. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the boy with an entire secret identity.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Are you guys breaking up?”

This time, it was May that interrupted you. Again, you and Peter swapped horrified looks.

“No!” he said.

“Not at all!” you added.

“We’re good.”

“Great, really.”

“Can I have some more latkes?”

None of them so much as glanced at Peter’s plate, which was, in fact, still full of latkes. Instead, after staring at the two of you for quite some time, all of the adults turned to look at each other.

“Peter’s been acting a little odd this week,” May said apologetically.

“Teenagers,” said your dad. “[Name]’s been skulking around, too. I’ve hardly seen her since she finished her finals.”

“You know, Peter started behaving like that after the spider bit him.”

“What,” said Happy, “you think [Name]’s transforming into the Amazing Spider-Girl?”

“Nah, she’d tell me if she getting superpowers. Right, [Name]?” asked your dad.

“Right,” you said weakly.

“She tells me everything.”

“No teenage girl tells her father everything,” Pepper put in.

“And you’d know this…how?”

“Because I was once a teenage girl myself.”

“Right,” your dad said. “Hard to remember with that belly you’ve got going.”

Pepper slammed her silverware down and let out a single bitter laugh. “All the insane people you’ve fought through the years, and you’ve decided the way you want Iron Man to die is via his wife strangling him the night before Christmas. I’d have thought you’d try for something a little more dramatic.”

“Want me to hold him down for you?” Happy offered.

“You’re fired,” said your dad.

“You can’t fire me. Who else is going to pick your sprog up from school?”

“I will.”

Happy snorted. “Yeah, she’ll love that.”

“She will,” your dad said indignantly. “Right, [Name]? [Name]?”

Tears obscured your vision so terribly that you could no longer see the room around you, nor the face of the boy sitting only a few feet away. The sound of several chairs being pushed back reached your ears, so you knew that it wasn’t only your father that had seen the water coursing down your cheeks. You still couldn’t stop crying. Though you made no noise, the strength it took to keep yourself in one piece put a sort of roaring in your ears.

You had not told your father everything. You had lied, not only to his face, but to his AI, to his wife, and even to his friends and coworkers. There he was, defending you and all the while you sat across from Peter defending all the selfish reasons you couldn’t tell the truth.

Your father trusted you—and it wasn’t even that that had finally cracked the fragile veneer of normalcy you’d been clinging so hard to. No, that was Pepper, a woman who people couldn’t even conceive of ever having been a teenager because she was pregnant. A teenager was what you were! How could you ever—

“Oh, honey.” May’s soft voice accompanied a comforting hand on your shoulder. “What’s the matter? I’m sorry if I interrupted. You and Peter can go somewhere else to talk.”

“They most certainly cannot,” said your dad.

“What did you do to the girl?” Happy asked.

“I didn’t do anything!” Peter said, in that high voice of his that he only reached when so nervous.

May shushed the men and turned your chair to face her. She alone was close enough for you to see the worry in her huge brown eyes. Clearly she couldn’t see the guilt in your face, because she lifted a hand and smoothed your hair with it—thoroughly ruining the elaborate hairdo you’d put it in, but who cared about that at a time like this? You practically launched yourself into her chest. A brief sound of confusion vibrated against your face; she did not, however, shove you away.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said soothingly.

But it wasn’t. Nothing was ever going to be okay again. You were pregnant. In one fell swoop, you had ruined your life; you had ruined Peter’s life; and you’d probably ruined your dad and Pepper’s lives, too. May’s chest only somewhat muffled the gigantic sobs bursting out of your mouth. Still, the somewhat was enough to allow you to hear the rest of the conversation nearby:

“Kid, I really hate to kick you off the team, but if you hurt my daughter—”

“I didn’t! Mr. Stark, I swear I wasn’t breaking up with her!”

“He’s kidding, Peter.”

“Who said I was kidding? I take my daughter’s happiness very seriously.”

You couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the idea of your dad firing Peter because of something you had done, something that was happening to you. You couldn’t take May comforting you when she would stop the minute she discovered the truth. And yet you didn’t have the strength to pull away from her. For days, you had wanted nothing more than someone to hold you, but were unable to explain why without giving yourself away. So you turned your head, just enough to expose half of your face to the cold world awaiting it.

“I’m pregnant,” you said hoarsely.

Only May seemed to hear. She stiffened, then slowly pushed you back into your chair. Her eyes were huge in her face. Meanwhile, Peter, Happy, and your dad continued to argue:

“You must have done something. Is this about her not going to that slumber party with Lila?” your dad said.

“Since when was [Name] having a slumber party with Lila?” Peter asked in a panic.

“I’m pregnant!”

The words exploded out of you upon repeating. They sucked the rest of the sound out of the room the moment they hit the air. Each other person there turned one by one to look at you, their expressions each a near-perfect mirror of May’s—or so you assumed, because you began crying too hard to see once again.

“I-I snuck out to see Peter the night the Avengers were Rotruvia. I knew he’d be alone because Dad told me May and Happy were going on a date! We-we had sex. I’m the one that started it. Not P-Peter!”

They had to know that. They needed to know that. The world needed Spider-Man; it did not need you. But that was not the only secret that needed unveiling. Now unlocked, your mouth couldn’t stop moving. You went on:

“I didn’t even have a group project at school. I-I l-lied so I would have time to by a preg-pregnancy test at the store before Happy came to pick me u-up. And-and-and then I lied about why I wouldn’t come out of my room and I-I-I don’t want to have a baby!”

No one said a single word. Silence fell so thoroughly in the dining room that you could have heard a pin drop. Instead, all you heard was Pepper continuing her meal at the other end of the table.

“Really? We’re kind of having a moment here,” your dad said.

“She’s your daughter,” Pepper replied.

“Yeah. It’s really starting to look that way, isn’t it?”

You had expected him to be angry. Heck, you’d expected him to be disappointed, which was exactly how he sounded. All that mental preparation for it amounted to nothing in the end. Looking at your father after that was beyond comprehension. Before anything more could be said, you stood and ran from the room.

At least Peter’s career was safe. The chances of you being safe anywhere anymore were slim to none. Maybe the best present you could give Pepper and your dad was getting packed before they told you to move out.

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themculibrary · 1 year

Text

Steve/Tony Acting As Peter’s Parental Figures Masterlist

Arguably Peter's Worst (Best) Field Trip Ever (ao3) - patrochilles_trash T, 18k

Come home (ao3) - Ineedtherapy (gethelp) N/R

Distracted by a Dime (ao3) - happyaspie T, 56k

...but for Peter- things rarely go as planned...

Don't Call Captain America Dad (ao3) - Eudoxia steve/tony, peter/wade N/R, 2k

Summary: Peter accidentally tells his parents he's Spider-man. And now he has to deal with his stupid parents being stupid. And overprotective.

Every version of you (ao3) - Ineedtherapy (gethelp) N/R, 41k

Summary: “What does the other me call you?” “Dad.”

After the events of Civil War and Homecoming, Peter Parker is slowly getting closer with his new mentor, Tony Stark. When his hero takes him with him to check out an abnormally, Peter gets switched with an alternative version of himself. How will the two Peters handle living with a different Tony? How will ourTony react to suddenly having a son? Is there anything the Avengers can learn from their new Peter? If Steve and Tony are married in a different world, can they stop fighting in their universe? How will the two Tonys mange to get their Spider Kids back?

For Those Who Believe, No Proof Is Necessary (ao3) - can_i_slytherin M, 4k

Summary: Five times that no one believed Peter and the one time that they had no choice but to.

Happiness Is Homemade (ao3) - Icylightning T, 40k

Summary: Tony and Steve are married for fifteen years now. Their life is simple and good until they decide to adopt a teenager named Peter Parker who's going to turn their life upside down.

Happy Again (ao3) - Legends_Never_Die T, 31k

Husband's Twin (ao3) - Infinitywrites G, 1k

Summary: “Hey guys! Watcha doin’?”

“Fixing Air Filter”

I'll Be There Beside You (ao3) - Coffee_and_notebooks G, 1k

Summary: Peter gets sick, but luckily, his dads are there to nurse him back to health. Oh also, Steve just really loves his husband. Like, so, so, so much

Love you, Papa (ao3) - chvotic G, 5k

Summary: He went to sit on one of the armchairs, but Peter stopped him.

“You want me to sit with you?”

Peter nodded again, and Steve was having a hard time not bursting into tears himself because the kid wanted to be near him.

Or, in which, Peter and Steve share their first ever father-son moments.

Peter, you're kidnapped (ao3) - GryffindorGyrl1997 T, 10k

Summary: Basically what it says on the title. Peter's been kidnapped and Tony and Steve have to find him. What will they find when they do?

Survival Mode (ao3) - Good_As_I_Am94 G, 25k

The Best Thing (ao3) - winterstony T, 32k

Summary: A billionaire finds home in the presence of a single father and his adorable little son. Together they help fill the empty holes in each other's lives.

What's the Expiration Date on a Secret? (ao3) - First_page T, 38k

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #peter parker #steve rogers #tony stark #superfamily #superfamily masterlist #masterlists

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toomanyrobins2 · 3 years

Text

The Proposal Pt. 3

Summary: Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Content Warning: cursing, slut-shaming, Bucky being a pain in the ass, mentions of nudity, maybe smut(haven’t decided yet)

Notes: Even though I'm on vacation (and technically on a self-imposed break), I could resist posting the next part! Also, I don;t know anything about how immigration works...so just go with it! Enjoy 💛

masterlist // next part

Finally, it was Friday and the fake couple was on one of Tony’s jets to Paris. Y/N’s mother had been ecstatic when she had got a call saying that not only was her daughter coming home, but she was also bringing a partner. On the jet, Bucky and Y/N sat across from each other. She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse, “So, these are the questions that INS is gonna ask us. The good news is I know everything about you, but the bad news is that you have two weeks to learn all this about me. So, you should probably get studying.”

Bucky pulled the paper towards him and quirked an eyebrow, “You know all the answers to these questions about me?” She nodded, but he didn’t believe her, “What is my favorite food?”

“Plums.”

“Allergies?”

“Pine nuts...and the full spectrum of human emotion.”

He glared at her as his eyes continued down the list, “Why do you know all this?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, acting like what she was about to share wasn’t a big deal, “I was the one that helped Steve get you the pardon. One of the big things we did was compile everything we could about you to prove that you were more than the weapon HYDRA forced you to be. Plus, Steve just liked talking about you.” Bucky huffed in disbelief, it was difficult to believe that the woman with who he was always arguing had done so much to help him. She could see that he was confused and grinned, “You didn’t really think that Steve, who jumps every time the copier turns on, compiled all that by himself?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I heard Steve talk about you so often and couldn’t imagine that the same guy who always had his back had become the Winter Soldier out of choice. I knew there had to be more to you than just what HYDRA had made you. Although that was before I knew how much of a pain in the ass you are.”

Bucky just stared at her for a moment. His eyes burned into Y/N before he cleared his throat and looked back down at the paper, “Whose place do we stay at, yours or mine?”

“That's easy, mine.”

“And why wouldn't we stay at mine?”

“Because you live at the compound and I have a house.” They continued to go back and forth until they landed in Paris, having spent the majority of their time laughing and making digs at each other. Both were marveling at the fact that they were getting along at all. They soon boarded the train for the final leg of their journey. She had paid so that they were in the nicest car, giving them both the space to spread their legs out.

They sat in comfortable silence, Bucky reading The Hobbit and Y/N looking out the window, listening to music. It had been years since she had been home and it was an odd experience to see such familiar scenery. The rocking of the train started to lull her and it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, her head falling against his shoulder. Bucky flinched when she first came in contact with him but didn’t want to wake her so he settled back against the seat, letting her sleep.

When the announcement came over the intercom that they were going to arrive soon, Bucky slowly shook Y/N awake. He chuckled at how embarrassed she looked, letting out a small oof when she elbowed him in the stomach. As they pulled into the station, he easily picked out her family. They were practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as Y/N stepped off the train, she was enveloped in a hug by her mother and grandmother. Her mother cupped her face, “It’s so good to see you!”

Her grandmother laughed, “You’re suffocating her, Charlotte. Come here.” Y/N dropped a kiss onto her Mamé’s cheek and looked around, asking where her father was. Her grandmother rolled her eyes, “Oh, you know your father, he's always working. Never mind about him, Where's your beau?”

She turned around and found Bucky standing awkwardly behind them, their bags at his feet. She took pity on him and held out her hand, ignoring the flutter in her chest as their fingers interlocked, “James, this is my mom, Charlotte. And this is my Mamé, Delphine.” She nearly fell on the floor when Bucky started speaking client French as he shook their hands.

Her grandmother grinned mischievously, “Bonjour, now, do you prefer being called James or Satan? We've heard it both ways. Actually, we've heard it lots of ways.”

Y/N wished the ground would swallow her whole and laughed awkwardly, “She's kidding.”

Bucky grinned, knowing he was going to tease her about this later. He smiled charmingly at Delphine, kissing the back of her hand, “Thank you so much for allowing me to be a part of this weekend.

The older woman giggled and patted his cheek affectionately, ignoring her granddaughter who was rolling her eyes in the corner, “You’re very welcome and we're thrilled to have you. Let's get you two back to the house.”

As they drove through the town, Bucky realized that most of the shops had Arnaud written on the signs. He leaned over, brushing his nose against her ear, making it look like he was flirting with her, “You neglected to tell me that you're some French Kennedy?”

Y/N turned to look at him, their noses nearly touching, as she whispered back, “How do you know who the Kennedys are? Is Sam right? You killed JFK?” He dug his finger into her side, making her jump, in retaliation to her sarcasm.

He decided to speak louder so that the other occupants of the car could hear, “You didn't tell me about all the family businesses, doll.”

Her grandmother laughed, “She was probably just being modest, dear.”

As they took a turn, Y/N’s brow furrowed, “Why aren’t we going to the hotel?”

Mamé turned around to give her a disapproving look, “We canceled that reservation. You know better than to think we’d let you stay anywhere but the house. Family doesn’t stay in hotels.” Y/N fell back against the seat, her arms crossed and bottom lip stuck out slightly. Bucky didn’t have time to tease her as they took a turn. His eyes widened as they drove through the entrance to the estate and through the vineyard as they pulled up to a massive house. He turned to look at her, but Y/N refused to meet his gaze.

Instead, she climbed out of the car, distracted by the people standing up on the patio above them. She whirled around, “Maman, what is going on?”

Her mother grinned, “Nothing, it's just a little welcoming party. Is that a crime?”

“No, but it may force me to commit one.”

Mamé Delphine ignored her granddaughter and wrapped her arm around Bucky’s arm, letting him escort her towards the house, “It’s just 50 of our closest friends and neighbors, and all excited to meet you.”

*********************

@mycosmicparadise

@white-wolf-buckaroo

@lharrietg

@gia-kerks

@marvelofwitch

@jakey-stan

@buckycuddles

#toomanyrobins #avengers imagine #avengers au #avengers x reader #avengers #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes au #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel au #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier #💍

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jbbarnesnnoble · 3 years

Text

Look Me in the Heart

Summary: [Mel Edit: I goofed and didn’t put the right summary. I am a fool]

You and Natasha have been together for several years. You want forever, and she’s pulling away.

Features/Warnings: Angst;

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff/Reader

Notes: This is a request from last year that I finally got inspiration to finish. As always, I’m opening to revisiting fics!

Request: “Could I request a Natasha x fem!reader fic please? Like one where Nat x r have been together for years but for the last year or so, R has wanted to get married but Nat keeps saying she’ll never get married. Nat doesn’t pay much attention to her anymore. One day, R, Yelena and Nat meet and Yelena pays a lot of attention to R, making her feel real good and making her blush and giggle every time Yelena compliments her/flirts with her. Nat gets annoyed and calls r out once they’re home (1/2)(2/2) They fight and r tells Nat all she’s been feeling lately. Alone, unloved, just there to be a fucktoy for Nat and nothing else. Nat promises her they’ll get help and they’ll fix their relationship, that she’ll try harder and make an effort. Thank you so much :) xx”

Word Count: 1942

Your fist connected with the bag in front of you. It felt good to release the tension that had been building from everything. Fury was on your ass lately about your mission reports. Steve was on your ass about slacking in your training. And you had been stressed by Natasha’s lack of communication.

You and Natasha had been together for several years, since you’d joined the Avengers, just before the fall of SHIELD. You knew what you wanted, and it was forever with her. The topic of marriage was one the both of you danced around. Last time you had brought it up, she brushed it off. You knew you could live without getting married, but it was something you wanted with her and something you’d wanted for some time. You wanted to be on the same page, to know if it was something to put on the shelf. You’d be okay if it wasn’t something she wanted, you just needed to know and an answer was never given.

“What’d that bag ever do to you Rose?” Sam asked. You jumped a little before looking over to where he was leaning against the wall. You hadn’t seen him come in.

“Everything, Jack,” you joked. It had been a running joke between you and Sam since a mission gone wrong on the water that evoked the infamous scene from Titanic. You both fit on the door.

“What’s really wrong?” he asked. You sighed. Sam could read you better than anyone, barring Natasha. It was why you two were frequently partners on mission. You worked well together, seamlessly moving from one mission to the next.

“It’s relationship woes. We had a...disagreement before she left on her mission. I brought up the big M again,” you explained, moving to sit on the bench as you grabbed your bottle of water. Sam sat down beside you.

“Eventually you two do need to have that discussion. Is that all that’s bothering you?” he asked.

“I feel like she’s pulling away. You know how my last relationship went,” you told him. He let out a light laugh before speaking.

“Your ex was a piece of work. I know you. And I know Natasha. Natasha is the furthest thing from your ex. Have you told her how you feel?” he asked. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You hadn’t brought it up. You weren’t sure how. You didn’t want to appear clingy. It was one of your fears when it came to voicing your feelings.

“To paraphrase Jersey Shore, I don’t want to appear like a stage five clinger,” you grumbled. You glared as Sam doubled over with laughter.

“I thought you hated that show,” he said when he caught his breath. You looked anywhere but at him. You hoped Bucky wouldn’t murder you for what you were going to say.

“I’ve been binging it with Barnes and Rogers when we have free time,” you admitted. At that, Sam had completely fallen off the bench laughing. You shook your head at your best friend. If that was the price you had to pay to end the conversation on your relationship issues, you’d pay it. Even if it meant facing the wrath of Bucky for letting Sam know that bit of information.

You both left the gym, headed for the living room. You knew Natasha was due back that day and that she was bringing Yelena with her. Yelena had met up with Natasha and Bucky on the mission. You liked Yelena, when she’d come around. She had her own room at the compound, but wasn’t formally an Avenger. She liked the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Tony was more than happy to offer her a place to stay.

You were in the middle of watching a rerun of The Nanny with Sam and Steve when the trio arrived. The three of you had just placed the pizza order, knowing the others would be in and out. You stood up and walked to Natasha, who placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I’m going to go shower before dinner gets here. Save my seat for me?” she asked.

“Always,” you replied. Bucky and Yelena both took their leave as well, all three of them in need of a shower after their debrief with Fury and Hill. You saw the look Sam gave you and just shook your head. Natasha was most affectionate after a mission. But by the end of the evening she’d be shrugging you off. It was a cycle that you had grown used to. You weren’t sure when things had changed.

Dinner arrived along with a freshly showered Natasha who sat down beside you, one hand on your thigh, itching for the contact. But you knew by the time dinner was done, Natasha would no longer be beside you. That she would come to bed after she was sure you were asleep. Unless she wanted to relieve tension. You felt more like her personal fucktoy than her girlfriend some days. A body to warm her bed and get her off. There were no bedtime conversations. There was no cuddling. No moments that belonged to just the two of you that didn’t involve sex. You hated it.

You stood and stretched some time after you finished dinner. You felt Natasha’s eyes on you. You knew it wouldn’t be long before she followed you to the room the two of you shared. For once, you were going to turn her down. You set about your nightly routine, taking a quick shower and brushing your teeth before pulling on pajama pants and a tank top. You weren’t surprised to see Natasha lounging on the bed when you entered the room.

“I missed you baby,” she murmured as you sat on the bed. She knelt behind you, bringing one hand around to trail up your stomach to your breast. You rebuffed her attempt.

“Not tonight, Nat. I don’t think dinner sat well,” you lied. You heard her huff and bit your lip in an attempt to hold the tears at bay. You heard her get under the covers and wondered where things had started to go wrong before getting under the covers yourself, your back turned to her.

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The next morning, Yelena was joining the two of you for breakfast in your room. Room was an understatement. Each Avenger had their own kitchenette and living space with a separate bedroom. It was really like a small apartment. Most times though, the team could be found in the common spaces unless they wanted time to themselves or they were off compound on missions or visiting friends and family.

You were making pancakes. Yelena had volunteered to help. Nat had left on her morning run and had only mentioned that Yelena was coming over before she left. You felt at ease with the blonde. You doubled over in laughter as she smudged flour on your face after saying you had a spot of flour on your nose. Neither of you had heard Natasha come in until you heard the thud of her water bottle on the counter, startling you.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” she asked, glaring at Yelena.

“We were just making breakfast, Nat. It’ll be done soon. Why don’t you go grab a shower?” you said to her. With one last glare, Nat stalked from the room angrily. You sighed.

“She loves you, you know,” Yelena said softly.

“Sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” you muttered. You set about setting the table, pouring coffee for Natasha, made just like she liked it. Breakfast was tense. Yelena threw a couple flirty comments before Natasha’s glare made her stop. She knew when to stop. The tension ramped up throughout breakfast, even as Yelena engaged Natasha in conversation. After breakfast, Yelena excused herself when she sensed the tension had only grown, making an excuse about having promised Wanda she would spar with her. You steeled yourself for the fight that was brewing.

“Seems like you and Yelena are getting on just fine,” Natasha said, her tone even and her eyes cold. You scoffed.

“Yes, Natasha. We are. I figured you’d want your sister and I to get along,” you replied as you began picking up the dishes to bring into the kitchen.

“I didn’t mean flirt with her! I know that look,” Natasha said.

“It was harmless,” you told her.

“Was it? Because it seems to me that you want to be anywhere except with me these days,” Natasha argued. You laughed. Truly laughed.

“Oh that’s just rich coming from you. Natasha we rarely share a bed anymore. When we do, it’s a quick fuck. It’s like that’s all I’m good for anymore. Being a warm body,” you cried. Natasha paused. Surely that couldn’t be true. She tried to think about the last time the two of you had gone on a date. The last time you two of you just spent time together. She was drawing a blank.

“I’ve been busy,” she said weakly. She knew it was a poor excuse. You’d been busy too. But you always made time to see her. And she would just brush you off. Natasha wasn’t so sure she could salvage the situation. She had never been on the receiving end of the disappointed look on your face. She didn’t like it.

“What are we Natasha? Anytime I bring up marriage you skirt the subject. Say not now. Later. When is later, Natasha?” you asked. You wanted answers. You knew this was going to be a make or break conversation for your relationship. You hoped it wouldn’t be a break. You weren’t sure you could handle losing her, not like this.

“You know how I feel about marriage,” Natasha replied.

“Do I? You always deflect,” you said, your voice lowering. You knew the pair of you were on a collision course with the point of no return. You were desperate to reign in your tempers before that point.

“You want to marry me? After everything I’ve done, everything you know about me?” she asked. Her voice betrayed a vulnerable side of Natasha you had never seen. A softness you had never heard in her voice before.

“Of course I want to marry you! I want to shout from the rooftops that Natasha Romanoff is mine! My wife, my love. But that doesn’t matter, Nat. As long as I have you, I’m happy. Married or not married, as long as you're mine,” you argued. The two of you stood for a moment, looking at one another. You wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel her arms wrapped around you. She stepped toward you, gently taking the dishes from your hands and placing them on the table beside you before bringing one hand up to cup your face.

“There is one thing I know for certain in this life. I don’t want to live it without you by my side. I haven’t been fair to you lately. I shut down instead of talking to you and it took until now for me to realize how close I’ve come to losing you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. You took her other hand in yours, squeezing it gently.

“Then we’ll talk to someone. Because Nat. I don’t want to lose you either,” you replied. You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood there, embracing one another in a way you hadn’t in so long. There were still discussions to be had. But they could wait. For now, you took comfort in one another, knowing that come tomorrow the real work would begin.

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