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gunsandspaceships · 28 days

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Tony Stark’s achievements

Childhood:

“Brilliant and unique mind”

At age 4 built his first circuit board

At age 6 built his first engine

Cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare

Went to college at 14

Built cool smart robots (Dum-E and U) when he was a teen

At 17 graduated summa cum laude from MIT

Polyglot

Before Afghanistan:

“Da Vinci of our time”

Became an owner and CEO of Stark Industries at 21

Successfully ran the company for decades

Advanced the world of technology, not only in weaponry and robotics but also:

created advanced AI J.A.R.V.I.S.

created holographic interface technology

created repulsor technology

Participated in charity

In and after Afghanistan:

“I’m sorry, I’m not Tony Stark”

Survived an open-heart surgery in a cave, without general anesthesia

Lived with, in fact, a debilitating wound, shrapnel, and a huge and dangerous technological device in his body for years and was willing and capable of doing not only his usual work but also being a superhero and doing all these next things...

Did not give up under torture and fought with his captors

Invented and built a miniaturized Arc Reactor, in a cave, with a box of scraps

Invented and built Iron Man armor, in the same cave, with the same box of scraps

Escaped from captivity by himself (with help from Yinsen, but without any armed assistance)

Became an expert in piloting and driving

Saved people in Gulmira

Saved a USAF pilot

Probably the best hacker in the world, was able to easily hack networks of the Pentagon, US government, AIM, and SHIELD

Fought with Iron Monger after nearly died. Defeated him and saved many lives. Was ready to die for that

Built many more different Iron Man armors

Fought terrorists between IM and IM2 (IM2 tie-in comics)

Saved a submarine crew (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home)

Saved a woman from a fire (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home)

“Stabilized East-West relations” (IM2 - newspapers in Vanko’s home), so the world was “enjoying its longest period of uninterrupted peace in years”

Organized Stark Expo

Was able to keep Iron Man armor in his safe hands despite the government’s and HYDRA’s attempts to take it for themselves

Defeated Ivan Vanko in Monaco

(Re)Discovered a new element

Synthesized it, by building a particle accelerator, at home

Revolutionized energy industry and science. Gave clean energy to the world

Defeated Vanko in New York with Rhodey, Natasha, and Pepper and saved many lives again

Saved Peter Parker (IM2)

Made it so that the Abomination would not leave prison and join the Avengers

Built Stark/Avengers Tower powered by Arc Reactor technology

Saved Steve Rogers and many civilians in Germany from Loki

Was able to fight with Thor on equal terms

Biggest brain on Earth, arguably - in the Universe:

best scientist on the team, in SHIELD, on Earth, in the Universe

expert in nuclear, particle, and quantum physics

was able to learn very quickly – became an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics in one night

Successfully tracked Tesseract by its gamma radiation with Bruce

Saved Helicarrier with the Avengers and SHIELD agents on board, almost died

Saved Rogers from a merc right after that

Fought with Chitauri, killed many of them, saved a lot of people

Was able to blow up a Leviathan by himself

Saved New York City by redirecting a nuke to the wormhole

Saved the world by destroying Thanos’ Chitauri army, almost died again

Founded The United States Department of Damage Control to clean up after battles

Rebuilt Stark Tower into Avengers Tower and gave each team member their own quarters

One of the best biologists and biomedical engineers on Earth, even if it’s not his main area of expertise:

helped Maya with Extremis back in 1999, because knew more in her own field, and even didn’t remember that

was head hunted by Aldrich Killian to work on Extremis with/instead of Maya, who was the leading expert in tissue regeneration

improved and stabilized Extremis, so it became safe regenerative technology, and with it…

cured Pepper

healed extensive injuries in his chest

invented and implanted devices for remote control of his suits (into his forearm in IM3, and most probably into his brain for Mark L armor in Infinity War)

invented build-in diagnostic system in his suits

Invented many devices for protection purposes (ex. bomb disposal)

A capable detective. Figured out the cause of explosions in IM3 on his own

Saved Pepper instead of himself by putting Mark 42 on her during the attack on his Malibu mansion

Survived the attack with a barely working prototype suit. Shot down a helicopter with a piano

Was able to fight with enhanced fire-breathing regenerating terrorists without armor and weapons in Rose Hill. In handcuffs

Knowledgeable and skilled in medicine:

saved a kid with his arc reactor in a deleted scene from IM3, selflessly pulling it out of his chest and performing defibrillation under electric shocks

knew how to recognize hyperglycemia when Harley was eating 3rd bawl of candies

closed his wound in Infinity War with nanoparticles

performed first-aid on Bruce after his snap

Built a lot of stuff from random things he bought in a store for the assault on the Mandarin's mansion. In a motel

Successfully stormed the Mandarin's mansion full of armed and huge security guys with dogs. Alone. Without his armor

Successfully escaped captivity in the Mandarin's mansion with just a few pieces of armor on

Saved all the people who fell from the Air Force One

Stormed Roxxon Norco ship with Rhodey, without a suit. With one handgun

Saved the US president

Defeated Killian and his Extremis-enhanced terrorists, saved many lives

Built quinjets

Created Iron Legion

Became the benefactor of the Avengers, provided them with everything, was a combatant, and also the team’s pilot, hacker, engineer, medic, and scientist

As an Avenger saved many lives on missions, including destroying the rest of HYDRA in AoU

With Bruce’s help created Veronica and Hulkbuster suit

Defeated a rogue Iron Legionnaire with a fork

In contrast to other team members was able to function after Wanda played with his mind

Defeated mad Hulk. Saved a lot of lives in Johannesburg

Easily hacked nuclear codes in Nexus and found J.A.R.V.I.S. “in the world’s biggest haystack”

Created advanced AI F.R.I.D.A.Y.

Many advanced AIs

Created Vision

With the Avengers defeated Ultron and his army

Evacuated people who were left in Sokovia

Saved a falling evacuation shuttle with people on it

Together with Thor saved Earth by destroying the falling Sokovia

Rebuilt Stark Compound into Avengers Compound for the team in Upstate New York

Invented several medical devices, including leg braces, blood toxicity detector

Sponsored the development of technology for psychotherapy (B.A.R.F.). Prevented it from being used for harm

Funded all the students’ projects at MIT

Did everything possible to legally, politically, and physically protect the team before, during, and after the Civil War

Was able to disarm Winter Soldier without a suit, with only one armored glove

Figured out Spider-Man’s identity

Created Spider-Man’s suits

Mentored, sponsored, and looked after Peter Parker

Saved Peter Parker (SMH). Twice

Saved the ferry from sinking

Invented nanoparticles

“Earth’s best defender”

Went to space to save Peter, Strange and bring back Time Stone

Saved Peter Parker (IW)

Saved Strange on the Donut spaceship. Killed Ebony Maw

Cloak of Levitation chose him as his second favorite (deleted scene with Tony wearing Levi and Strange in Mark L)

Was respected by Thanos himself

Withstood when Thanos hit him with a moon

Fought Thanos, made him bleed, kept fighting even without armor

Survived a severe injury thanks to his own invention

Was able to function, tried to fix Benatar, and return home while injured and ill with an infected wound

Built a lab for Bruce and helped him to become one with Hulk (combine the best of both worlds)

Became an amazing dad

Became an expert in time travel physics

Discovered/invented (controlled) Time travel

Built a time machine

Went on Time Heist and stole Tesseract from a guarded military base

Created his own Infinity Gauntlet

Thus brought half of the universe back to existence (Bruce snapped and partially sacrificed his health, but nothing would be possible without Tony)

Saved Bruce’s arm by providing emergency medical care

Fought with Thanos again and…

Saved the whole Universe

#tony stark #iron man #mcu #marvel #the avengers #avengers endgame #captain america civil war #avengers age of ultron #iron man 2 #iron man 3 #spider man homecoming #avengers infinity war

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astroboots · 9 months

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME #10

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel tries to rob a superhero and you try to stop him.

Word count: 5,750

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

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It’s another mundane morning in your office. You’re hiding away in your cubicle with your breakfast croissant and coffee, scrolling the news on your phone.

Ever since the cosmic murder attempts have started, reading news hasn't been the same for you. It’s no longer a case of innocently keeping up to date with current events. Because now you can’t read the sensationalist headlines without a small pang of guilt that you may have been the unwilling root cause for so many of them.

‘Apocalyptic blizzard in August.’

‘Stampede escape from Brooklyn zoo.’

‘Freak electric storm causes wide city blackout’.

It’s all just too macabre for you this early, it’s not even 10am. Your eyes flicker down, only skimming to make sure that there has been no casualties involved with each incident before scrolling away again. Then you opt for the technology section instead. Hoping it is a little bit less catastrophic and kinder on your nerves.

‘Tony Stark’s Arc Reactor Returns Home to Stark Tower.’

Your fingers pause at the headline. Stark always makes for a good read and good gossip, you think to yourself as you take another sip from your morning coffee and start to read:

‘Tony Stark, the notorious billionaire philanthropist and avid Star Wars memorabilia collector, has announced his decision to move his iconic arc reactor back to his home in New York City. The self-sustaining fusion power source kept Stark alive during the infamous hostage incident where he was captured and detained in Afghanistan by the Ten Rings terrorist organization’.

‘Self-sustaining fusion power source…’ you repeat the phrase in your head, parsing over the words. Why does that sound so familiar to you?

You read it again, and this time instead of your own voice, the memory of Miguel’s sleep husked voice fills your ears:

“Your world is not technically advanced enough for me to build an upgraded self-sustaining fusion power source that would be needed.”

Adrenaline buzzes bright in your brain, and you stand up from your desk so fast you nearly knock over your chair.

Finally! It’s the Eureka moment you have been waiting for all this time.

You peer over the cubicle wall, scanning the room for Miguel. It doesn’t take you long at all to spot him; his oversized frame is hard to miss. Besides, even if you couldn’t see him, you’d be able to sense the anger vibrating off of him a mile away.

In the corner at the far end of the open-plan office, Miguel is abusing the poor printer again. He’s cramming a fistful of papers into the feeding slot like it’s a duck he’s trying to force feed to make foie gras, and judging from the vein straining on his forehead, the man is about two seconds from lifting the 50 pound machine and launching it out through one of the building’s windows.

You shake your head at the scene. You don't understand how someone so smart, so intelligent, so apt with technology—he built an A.I. so advanced it would make the most high tech of Stark Industry's prototypes look like a kindergartener's chicken scrawl—can be so inept when it comes to dealing with a basic printer.

“Miguel,” you whisper loudly, and despite the fact that he’s on the other side of a bustling office, he immediately turns to look at you.

You beckon him over, practically bouncing with excitement as you wait for him to cross the room, and as soon as he’s within reach, you stand on the tip of your toes and cup a hand around his ear so you can covertly whisper the news of your discovery.

“Stark has an arc reactor.”

You’re beaming with pride that you’ve found a solution to your dilemma, and look up at Miguel expectantly for him to celebrate with you and maybe even praise you.

Instead, he looks down at you without reaction. “What’s Stark?”

"Wait, are you serious?"

You almost think he’s doing one of his sarcastic comedic bits with you, but the angle of his right eyebrow, raised in cluelessness tells you otherwise.

"How do you know so much about Dr. Strange, but not know who Tony Stark is? He’s like the main Avenger."

Miguel merely shrugs at you. "Avengers aren't really a thing where I'm from."

You shove your phone into his hand and watch as his eyes flicker over the screen, reading through the article in a matter of a few seconds. When he’s done, he places the phone back on your desk, then grabs your left hand, leaning down as he lifts it up towards him. For a second you think he’s about to kiss your hand.

"Lyla," Miguel announces, and the watch buzzes warmly against your wrist as Lyla's hologram reforms in the small space above.

"Give me the layout of the Stark Tower, identify vulnerabilities in the security system and outline the most optimal entrance points for a break-in."

Did he just say break-in?

"Wait, wait,” you interrupt quickly, trying to defuse the situation, before he gets too far ahead of himself. “Miguel, we are NOT breaking into the Stark Tower."

"How else would we do it?"

“We could just talk to him. Lyla can hack into his schedule and book us a meeting with him, right?”

“And then what?”

“We’d ask him to help us?” you suggest, not understanding why he skipped straight over the most obvious answer and went right to breaking and entering. Though from the way Miguel is staring at you in blank confusion you may as well have spontaneously grown horns on your head.

“...Nicely,” you add, in case that wasn’t already clear.

“Because that would require us to talk to him. He would just say no, Cielito. I’d prefer to break in. Cleaner that way. More efficient. Easier.”

You can’t believe this man just admitted to being so socially awkward he thinks committing a felony is easier than having to hold a conversation with a stranger.

"Asking is pointless. No scientist is just going to hand over something like an arc reactor to a couple of strangers because they asked nicely. Besides, even if we arrange a meeting with him by hacking into his calendar, he’ll know something is up the moment he sees us. You’ll just wind up getting thrown out by security.”

Ok maybe he has a point there.

"What if we tricked him? Made him think we have something he wants?”

"Like what?"

"Stark collects rare Star Wars collectibles. We can lie and say we're collectors with a rare piece to sell like the Kenner Star Wars Boba Fett prototype?"

His right brow raises at a skeptical angle and he’s staring at you like you’re speaking a foreign language.

"Cielo, that's insane."

You bristle at that.

"How is your idea any better?" you demand.

"A break-in wouldn't require much effort or rely on the goodwill or stupidity of someone else. It’s much easier–"

“You’re talking about breaking into the personal home of an Avenger!” you interrupt because you’re not listening to any more of his madness, “He’s arguably the smartest member of a team made up of the mightiest heroes on Earth, and you want to try to steal from him, Miguel!? That is not easier!”

The office has gone alarmingly quiet around you. You look around to see that your heated discussion is gaining unwarranted attention from the rest of the office. All of a sudden, the endless click and clack of the keyboards stop.

You give your curious coworkers a strained smile, then lean up close to Miguel again, muttering under your breath. “We’ll discuss this when we get home.”

Miguel doesn’t say anything else, but you can feel his eyes pinned to your back as you walk to your chair and sit back down at your desk to finish your croissant in two mouthfuls, chugging down the remainder of your coffee.

An hour before noon, Miguel comes to your cubicle. He sets down a lunchbox and from the logo on the plastic grocery bag you can tell that it’s from your favorite Bodega round the corner.

“I have a quick errand to run for work at lunch. I’ll be back within the hour,” Miguel tells you, “Lyla will guard you, and if something happens she’ll alert me immediately. Don’t go anywhere.”

You look up from your screen to see him stand over your desk with that passive expression etched onto his stoic face, as if there is nothing out of the ordinary.

In the last month, Miguel hasn’t let you out of his sight for longer than a handful of minutes (primarily to get more snacks when they run out).

Miguel thinks he’s being so slick. It’s insulting to your intelligence that he thinks you don’t know what he is up to: he’s obviously going to spend his lunch hour trying to rob Tony Stark.

But that’s fine, you’re not going to openly question Miguel on his suspicious behavior. If he’s not here that means you are free to get up to whatever you want.

… Including approaching a certain multibillionaire that has the one item in his possession that could save both your life and the universe as you know it from collapsing.

It’s why you wave at him as he makes his way to the exit and pay close attention to him leaving through the front glass door and take the elevator down to the ground floor. Then for good measure you wait another five minutes to make sure that he will fully be out of hearing range with his super-senses before you raise your wrist to your face.

“Lyla,” you whisper.

“Hello, boss girl! Wasssuuuup,” she greets, elongating the word sassily for comedic effect, and you can’t help but smile.

Lyla, as entertaining as she is, is an enigma to you. You don’t understand how Miguel with his short patience-span and entirely lacking sense of humor would have programmed this A.I. to have this kind of personality. Not to mention a deep archive of a millenial’s pop-culture media reference from this dimension.

“What can I do you for?” Lyla asks, shooting you gun-fingers with a cheeky flare.

You part your mouth, but hesitate to make the request.

This is illegal isn’t it? Hacking into someone’s calendar to arrange a meeting with them under false pretenses. God, what if you get taken away in handcuffs within the first 30 seconds of entering the building, featured on Deuxmoi as a crazy stalker fan.

So far the only “illegal” thing you’ve used Lyla for is to generate Netflix passwords and hack into HBO Max to watch Succession. This is a significant next level step.

Maybe you should run downstairs and catch Miguel before he leaves the building? You could plead your case again. Try to reason with him that breaking and entering isn’t the way to go about it and the two of you should approach Tony Stark by having a mature and adult conversation.

Yeah. Right. You snort even as you think it. Miguel is never going to be persuaded on this point and you are quickly running out of time. There’s only one thing to do:

“Lyla, can you please arrange a lunchtime meeting for me with Tony Stark today.”

The lobby of Stark Tower is much like any other commercial buildings you’d find in the Financial District. Heck, it's not that much different from the one you navigate every morning at the Chrysler building. If anything, the only surprise is how ordinary the Stark Tower is.

When you enter the main lobby, you have to sign in with a stern but clearly bored security guard, then use the guest security pass you’re given in order to access the elevators.

Once you reach the 90th floor, there is a distinct lack of staff up there. Only a single, sweet-looking old man, with a well trimmed mustache above his upper lip. He's swathed in a soft-knitted cardigan and wearing gigantic vintage-styled sunglasses indoors that make him appear bug-eyed as he peers up at you and walks with you to another set of elevators using a retinal scan for security and sends you on your way.

The door closes around you in the metal box, with a swift jump to the 91st floor.

When the door finally slides open it feels like you’ve entered another world. Minimalistic opulence is the keyword for it. There are windows along the entire space. A 360 view of the New York landscape and you almost feel like you are at an Aquarium with the amount of glass surrounding you. There’s pieces of half-built tech and prototypes everywhere. Imagine having so much money that you can allocate a whole floor of a manhattan skyscraper to essentially be your garage workshop.

“So you’re my 1pm that magically appeared today,” a happy-go-lucky voice sings out.

You jump in your skin, breaking your concentration from the view, as you turn around to see the infamous man of the hour standing behind you.

“Gotta say, when I was envisioning the sort of person who might be selling me a Kenner Star Boba Fett figure, I did not imagine a gorgeous knock-out,” he says, with an outstretched hand as he greets you.

Tony Stark is shorter in real life. Less formal than in the gettymarked photos you’ve seen of him at red carpet events and fancy galas, dressed up in the most tailored fit suits that money can possibly buy. He’s also a lot more charming than in photos. All big brown eyes, and pouty lips. He might be half the size of Miguel, but Tony Stark has more than enough charm and confidence to make up for it

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

He is quick witted banter and dazzling diamond smiles as he shows you the residential suite of the Stark Tower. His hand rests on the side of your waist as he guides you through the long hall, making strong eye contact all the while down the hall. 91 floors up and you cannot hear a hint of the chaotic traffic noise downstairs, it’s oddly quiet save for the faint scratching noises you hear from the ceiling. (Guess even Stark towers cannot escape the city’s rodent issues).

“Anyone ever told you, your eyes really sparkle?” Stark says, as his hand slips from your shoulder to rest at the small of your back. “You’ve got this whole Disney princess thing going on. I dig it.”

Wait, is he flirting with you?

Tony Stark, Chief Executive Officer of Stark Industries. One of the top 20 richest men in America (according to Forbes). A man who can afford to buy the whole of planet Mars is flirting with you.

God, you are already seeing dollar signs. Lobster. Caviar. All the rare exotic and poisonous puffer fish sushi you've only dreamed of eating. You've always wanted to be a gold digger, you've just never been close enough to a gold mine.

Maybe this will be easier than you thought. If he likes you, maybe you can just flirt your way into getting the arc reactor. Ask him to lend it to you.

The two of you make your way past the glass doors and into another imposing large room, bare and minimalistic. Oddly, it feels dimly lit, given the size of the windows in the room.

It’s the size of the front lobby of your office building, and you realize halfway through that this room serves no other purpose except to store more of his junk. There are half built machines piled up in every corner. Boxes and boxes of tools haphazardly strewn across the room. It’s an outrageous waste of prime New York real estate that speaks to the man’s wealth.

In the middle of the room, there’s a silver medal that glows an eerie blue in the middle, encased in a display case. With the way it sparkles, you could almost mistake it for a precious aquamarine gemstone the size of your fist.

“Wow, is that the arc reactor?” you ask.

Stark doesn’t answer. Suddenly his chattiness is nowhere to be found, and as you turn to look at him you notice he’s not paying any attention to you. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling behind you.

You whip your head around and follow his gaze to see the familiar blue super-suit trailing behind you. The unmissable angry red spider embellished across his wide chest, as he hangs upside down like a cat burglar.

Has he been trailing behind you since you got here? Was that what the noises were?

Air whizzes through the space and the force of it reverberates across your cheek. A piece of red armor flies through the air and attaches itself to Stark’s arm.

You’ve seen enough highlight reels of Iron Man on the news channel to know what it means.

“Wait wait wait,” you shout out as you step in front of Stark in mid-transformation.

You fling your hands up high in a gesture of a white flag to de-escalate the situation. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

Stark’s eyebrow quirks up, tipping his head sardonically. "So your costumed sidekick hasn't been stalking us this entire time? Breaking and entering, not just into my tower–which is private property, by the way–but also bypassing security to access my private office? Yeah, I'm sure your intentions are entirely on the level."

Despite the sarcastic hostility in his tone Stark hasn’t summoned the rest of the armor. The rest of his iron suit is suspended in the air on standby two feet away. He’s only got the arm piece strapped to his arm as insurance and is clearly willing to give you at least a few seconds of a benefit of a doubt. Long enough to hopefully explain yourself and not start a Superhero brawl.

“He’s not dangerous,” you say, and the moment you say it, you want to kick yourself because of how suspicious that makes you sound.

You turn your head around to Miguel who’s done an aerial somersault with the grace of a ballerina despite his build and soundlessly landed back onto his feet on the ground.

“I can’t believe you went behind my back! We agreed to put a pin in this and wait to deal with Stark until we agreed on a plan. You said you weren’t going to break in!”

His masked eyes narrow into accusing slits, “Yeah? And what are you doing here then?”

“Stopping you before you do something stupid!” you hiss.

Before Miguel has a chance to retort, there is a loud clap from behind you that redirects both your attentions to Stark.

“Jarvis, how did our lovely Disney princess make it onto my calendar and how did Hulk Spiderman over here manage to slip past every layer of your security net?”

The voice of a posh British man sounds out across the room but there’s no person attached to it.

“I can find no record of these events in my logs. Performing internal diagnostics now, Sir.”

“Huh, interesting…” Tony hums to himself in consideration before he turns his attention back to you both.

“I have to say I'm quite impressed, but I’m hoping for an explanation. Is this a Bonny and Clyde situation? You two lovebirds here to rob me?”

“No!” you both shout in unison.

“Not lovebirds, got it.”

“That’s not–” Miguel starts, whipping down his head in your direction.

At the sight of your face, he seems too flustered to continue his train of thought and he quickly looks away from you. “None of your business,” he snaps at Stark.

You don’t know why, but that dismissive glance from him hurts. Like the very idea that you two would be in a romantic relationship is off-putting to him. It’s kind of insulting. You turn from him, trying to ignore the sharp stabbing ache somewhere in your chest that makes it hard to breathe.

From across, Stark observes the two of you, whatever he sees makes him tip his head in curiosity. The intense pinch between his brow relaxes and the subtle shift in his expression is like witnessing the moment a shark senses blood in the water, then he grins and turns his attention towards you.

Stark grins, turning his attention towards you. "So you're single then?"

You peer up at Miguel and hesitate because that’s a damned good question. You of this dimension is certainly single, but there’s another version of you (a dead one) that’s married to the man next to you.

But that’s not you.

You turn to Stark, "Yes," you answer.

Miguel whips his head to you, eyes wide. "No!" he bellows.

"The lady says she is, big blue."

"And I say she's not!" Miguel growls, the last word ends on such loud volume it could break the sound barrier.

Miguel isn’t the best at reading cues. You’ve known Tony Stark for all of five minutes, and even you can tell that the man enjoys riling up people, Miguel is feeding right into that.

Stark acts like Miguel is speaking at a decibel that he is unable to register. He saunters up to you, with the most carefree gait you’ve seen anyone carry around Miguel.

"So are you free tonight?" Stark asks.

You spot Miguel’s bristling expression and hesitate for a second time.

It’s mean, you shouldn’t rile Miguel up like this. His entire back is curved up like a hissing cat. The man looks like he’s about to blow a casket, acting like a jealous spouse. And somehow under Tony Stark’s attention you feel like you are the adulterous wife.

Except once again, you’re not. Because you are not Miguel’s wife.

… Why exactly are you pining after a man still grieving his dead ex-wife who happens to look like you?

You're currently homeless. Your take-home salary as an insurance adjuster can’t afford you a new apartment in New York, not with the rising inflation and the current state of this economy. This is your highway express ticket to the charmed life of being a billionaire ex-wife.

Bye bye to 9 to 5’s and having to manually enter data into thousands of excel sheets everyday. Jeff Bezos' former wife, Mackenzie Bezos was awarded 25% of their Amazon shares valued at over 38 billion dollars. Stark is twice as rich as that.

You slide closer to Stark. "Maybe? Where are you gonna take me? Somewhere fancy?"

"Yeah, no! Absolutely not!" Miguel interjects.

He steps forward to drag you behind him, until his mountainous body blocks you from the man.

“We need the arc reactor.” Miguel announces brusquely, with no fanfare and even less by way of explanation. “If you won’t give it to us, I’ll just have to take it.”

“What do you need it for?” Stark asks curiously.

“That’s none of your business,” is the blunt reply.

Stark tilts up his head, gaze pinned to Miguel’s mask. “You know, I’m not really minded to give away proprietary technology to a man wearing a wrestling mask in broad daylight.”

There’s a stalemate between the two men as they stare each other down (or up in Stark’s case). The showdown is silent, you can practically feel the tumbleweeds rolling by, waiting to see who’s going to draw first.

“He can take his mask off,” you interject.

At your offer, Miguel’s eyes narrow, nose turning up in the air in a put off gesture, refusing to do as he’s told.

“Mig,” you warn, and despite the clear scowl etched onto the features of his mask, this time, he complies.

The blue and red fabric recedes into nothingness, until the fierce cut of his bare jawline is revealed. Eyes glowing an angry crimson.

The scowl on Miguel's face is so ferocious, you can see his fangs in clear view. But instead of scary. Instead of intimidating. He looks... almost cute. All you see in front of you is a teething puppy with no real bite. He's harmless.

Stark makes a low whistling sound at the dramatic reveal of Miguel’s face. “Didn’t expect the fifth member of One Direction under there.”

Miguel glares at the man, even though you know fully well that he doesn’t understand the pop-culture reference that’s being made.

“So let’s take this from the top,” Stark says, and he starts to pace the length of the room until he reaches the arc reactor and gives the display case a light smack like he’s tapping the rear of a mare.

“You need my arc reactor, but you won’t tell me why, and you’re not offering me anything in return, except for El Tigre over here not trying to kill me, is that about right?”

“What’s your price?” Miguel asks, voice in that low growling tone that always precedes a threat.

“I’m a multi-billionaire, cash doesn’t really interest me, and I can’t exactly have this fall into the wrong hands.”

“We’re not bad people, and we’re not going to use it for anything nefarious. I know this sounds absolutely nuts, but we need your arc reactor to save the world,” you say.

Stark chuckles at you, the way an adult would at a naive child. “That’s not really much to go on hon, you’re gonna have to give me more than that.”

“Wong, the Sorcerer Supreme, he can vouch for us.”

Stark considers you for a moment then tilts his head to take an appraising look of Miguel, eyes dragging from the sole of his suit-clad heels and up to his neck where the suit ends.

“The unstable molecule fabric you have for the suit is interesting. I’ve been meaning to give my suit an upgrade, and having it disappear into thin air would be convenient. Wouldn’t have to constantly lug around 2,000 pounds of metal everywhere I go with me. Hand me a sample of the tech along with full intellectual property rights and we’ll talk.”

“No.” Miguel says.

He straightens up his posture and crosses his arms over his chest with a haughty expression on his face. “My suit is technologically superior to all the technology you’ve got in this building combined. It’s a bum deal. Your arc reactor has palladium in it and would be poisonous for long term use. It’s practically defunct and I only need it for a one time use.”

God, this man really doesn’t know how to endear himself to anyone does he.

“He doesn’t mean that,” you step in.

“Well if it’s practically defunct, I wouldn’t want to pawn this junk off on you,” Stark responds, throwing up his hands in feigned defeat. “Besides, it has sentimental value to me. Not sure I’m willing to just give this away to some random guy who broke into my house.”

Miguel’s lip twitches in irritation until you see another flash of those fangs like they’re itching to sink into Stark’s throat.

That only seems to entertain Stark further. “Look, you clearly need this reactor for something big, and for some reason you’re not able to build it yourself even with your advanced tech on display here. You’re obviously in a hurry, and in a desperate situation. Desperate enough to break in, and you know the saying: beggar’s can’t be choosers. I wouldn’t be much of a businessman if I didn’t take advantage of that.”

Miguel narrows his eyes, glancing around at the electronic equipment stored in the corner of the room. “I need you to throw in the laser scalpel along with the 3d printer and genetic sequencer,” he says, cocking his head in its direction.

“Wow, toots, your boyfriend has real expensive taste,” Stark teases.

Your cheek warms at the term boyfriend, but you don’t correct him.

Neither does Miguel. Instead Miguel looks him squarely in the eyes and juts up his chin. “I want the Sonic disruptor too.”

“Fine,” Stark announces, holding up his hand in the gesture of a time-out to stop Miguel from listing out more expensive items. “You drive a hard bargain, Blue, but what the hell. It’s a deal. I’ll even give you a newer palladium-free model of the reactor so I can keep old sparky here for myself.”

The sun is setting against the skyline of the city, washing it in strokes of warm amber-orange hues. Miguel is still grumbling next to you as the two of you stroll along the Brooklyn bridge.

“Supergenius, Ha! Si los zombies comen cerebros, él sería invisible para ellos. What do you see in that guy anyway?! He’s not even good looking. He’s like what? 5 feet tall? He was wearing built in heels, you know! Es más corto que las mangas de un chaleco–”

"Can you pipe down?” you say, cutting off his tirade, “Just let it go, please. It's been hours! I didn’t see anything in him. I have no desire to be the next notch on Tony Stark's bedpost.”

That finally seems to end his rant, or at the very least slow it down. Miguel shuts his mouth, staring out over the river. “Then why did you tell him you were free?”

“Because I wanted the arc reactor! I figured letting the guy flirt with me might help. Catching flies with honey and all that.”

He folds his arms over his chest, with a skeptical furrow in his brows. “You wanted him to take you somewhere fancy; that’s what you said,” he points out.

Damn him and his super-genius memory.

“Well, maybe I also wanted to eat at a Michelin star restaurant one time in my life. Manila Social Club is supposed to have a golden donut made with champagne jelly and actual gold on their dessert menu.

“That doesn’t even sound tasty,” Miguel mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. His mouth settles into an unhappy frown.

“It would have been if I didn’t have to pay for it!”

“I could’ve gotten it for you,” he says, and it’s not until you take a better look at his face that you realize it’s not so much as a frown he’s sporting. It’s a pout.

Oh, is he… ? He is, isn’t he!

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know. I’m not interested in Tony Stark,” you reassure him.

In front of you, the rigidness in his shoulder seems to melt at your words.

That surprises you. You’d have expected him to deny the accusation that he’s jealous. Adamantly object that he wasn’t, and why would he be, you’re nobody to him. Just a random stranger that happens to look like his wife that he cannot leave well enough alone.

He doesn’t do that though. Instead, his only response is a quiet, “Okay.”

His docileness takes you by surprise.

Is he admitting that he was jealous?

You'd be lying to yourself if you said that you didn't take even a morsel of enjoyment in the comical way that Miguel is getting himself riled up over you. To have him flustered and openly jealous of Tony Stark flirting with you.

As if Miguel had anything to worry about.

As if Tony Stark, a man who has ‘philandering philanthropist’ as a description for himself on his twitter bio, isn't known to be so indiscriminately flirtatious he’d eagerly court a voluptuously shaped tree.

As if that man of 5 foot 6 (with platform shoes) would ever hope to occupy every one of your thoughts the way Miguel does.

Immature and childish and inane as your behavior back at Stark Tower was—and you feel mildly ashamed of it now—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it in the moment. Not because Tony Stark, multi-billionaire, GQ's Most Eligible Bachelor five years running, was flirting with you.

No. Because for a moment you got to experience what it was like to have your rude protective Spiderman treat you as his girlfriend. Someone he was possessive of. Someone he treasures. Someone that is his. Instead of your current reality, where you know he belongs to someone else entirely.

“If anyone has anything to be jealous of, don’t you think it should be me?” you say, the words slipping out of your mouth before you can reign them back in.

Miguel tilts his head, regarding you like a cute, confused pup, so you continue.

"Because I could never compete with her, right?"

"Her?" he asks, seeming genuinely puzzled.

"Your version of me," you say, "your Nena." You try to smile, try to keep it light-hearted, like the funny joke you had meant it to be, but it hurts even just to hear yourself say it. Because you know it's not a joke.

It's true. You’re in love with a man whose affections aren't yours to win.

Miguel stops in his tracks, and that makes you stop as well.

"It's not a competition," he says seriously. "You're two different people. You can't compare like that.”

You feel like you’re being scolded and probably rightly so. You’re being childish and unreasonably trying to compare yourself to his dead wife. But that doesn’t mean that it makes it hurt any less to hear you don’t compare at all. Your heart fissures and cracks, and the first sting of tears starts to well up behind your eyes.

"You're important to me too," he continues.

The words stop your heart, your eyes dart up to his face. The look on his face is gentle and soft, and it soothes the pain in your chest away, a gentle warmth rising to take its place.

“Oh,” you say. You can’t help but smile up at him, squinting against the bright sun behind his back.

“You’re important to me too,” you tell him.

His lips quirk up into a small but genuine smile at your response. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You nod, and then you have to turn away, feeling bashful under his attentive gaze. Embarrassed heat prickles your cheeks, and you need a second to catch your breath and let the evening breeze cool you down.

There are cyclists and pedestrians going past you as the two of you continue to walk in silence. You sneak a look at him to see that, like you, he’s turned away. He’s gazing out over the bridge as he walks and against the amber sun, you see a faint flush riding high on his cheeks.

Your fingers lightly brush against the side of his hand, and he turns back to you and smiles, sliding his pinkie to hook around yours.

You walk all the way home this way, heart feeling full, and you think to yourself that maybe, this time, things really are going to be okay after all.

~ Next issue

Author's note: So for fellow marvelheads checking, wouldn't Tony be dead after Endgame when Wong was made Supreme Sorcerer? This is another version of earth -- Thanos and the snap never happened. My baby Tony isn't dead how dare you!

The Spanish in this chapter has been left untranslated on purpose, so that it’s left ambiguous whether reader speak/understand Spanish. The idea is that if you as a reader understand it, then so does the reader, and vice versa 🥰

Dedication & Credits: To @guruan for her incredibly kind help and donating her time to check the Spanish used in this chapter.

And to the kind @forwantofwill and her generosity for doing this beautiful fanart of Miguel Folding Origami that has stolen my heart!!

And finally to @thirstworldproblemss I love you and hope you're eating all the yummy sukiyaki that you deserve. Thank you for coming with me on this wild ride.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #marvel #spiderverse fanfiction #imguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #marvel mcu

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sunnysideprincess · 2 months

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There is no one coming for Tony Stark, he gets that early enough.

Seven and being fed lines at gunpoint. Rescue doesn't come for days until the kidnappers grow sick of his weeping and leave him alone, giving him enough time to wiggle his way out through the vents.

Fourteen and sporting a broken limb, face marked black and blue. The man with a hook for right hand listens to Howard Stark's "we don't negotiate with terrorists" speech and comes back with a meat cutter, only to find a rigged smoke bomb and a vindictive teenager with a makeshift taser.

Twenty-one and Ty's filming him, his moaning and crying and the press has a field day dissecting the whore of a man the Stark heir has become.

Twenty-two and there's a bottle, or seven, and needles going into his arm, a broken piano and a shattered will. Tony Stark is a broken man.

But nobody comes.

Thirty-nine and he's under water, a hole in his chest and a car battery that's keeping his heart ticking. There's him and a dying old man. There's him and the suit and a torch of vengeance he carries out to the desert.

Forty and he has a time bomb in his chest—

Nobody comes.

He knows this.

Nobody ever comes.

Tony Stark is destined to die alone.

Forty-five and trapped inside a bunker, cold and frozen, held at gunpoint by wayward scientists and soldiers. His suit of armor is scrap metal. The numbness crawling over his chest.

Nobody's gonna come.

Rhodey's not awake.

Pepper's not aware.

Vision...

Nobody's coming on time.

Except, there's a knife and a scream and the blinds are ripped from his eyes with ferocious gentleness. There's ice and cold and storm-weathered eyes peering into his soul.

"How bad," Barnes asks him. But all Tony sees is a blood-soaked knife and scattered bodies. All he sees is Barnes and his bleeding rage coiled tight around his shoulders and Tony is a broken clock. He doesn't know what day it is. He can't guess because Barnes looks just the same as the day he last saw him.

"How long?"

"Too long," he hears when he stumbles into his rescuer's hold, shivering and weightless, disoriented and so, so confused.

Nobody should have come. Yet outside, there's an army. Slaughtered and thrown about. And Barnes walks unhurried, his arms secure around his cargo. A predator carrying his trophy for the hunt.

Nobody's supposed to come. But Barnes did.

Tony wonders why.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #pre winteriron #deb writes in between #post cacw #tw: child abuse #tw: drugs #pre slash #winteriron #starbucks #buckytony #fic #ficlet #mcu

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robertdowneyjjr · 1 year

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there's nothing quite like seeing tony stark in a tank top.

but here's the question.

#yes this time my poll has VISUALS #im3 tony let me hug you sweet bb #anyway good luck everyone looking forward to the results #rdjedit #ironmanedit #tonystarkedit #tony stark #iron man #mcu #marvel #kaypolls #kaygifs #marveledit #mcuedit #mcugifs #mcufam #dailyavengers

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fbfh · 1 year

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dad!tony + stark!reader growing up/childhood hcs

wc: 1.4k

genre: fluff, a little angst, preventative hurt/comfort, family/domestic bliss

pairing: dad!tony + kid!stark!reader, gen 1 ironfam (tony, pepper, rhodey, happy) + reader

warnings: Tony loved your mom and thinks you look like her, your mom is not in the picture (open to interpretation), takes place in the early 2010s, mentions of iron man 1 - 3 and the first avengers movie, tony's a good dad, brief mentions of kidnapping/attacks/general danger, tony found out he had a kid and took you in backstory, bonding, tony's a good dad, did I mention Tony's a good dad

a/n: oh boy did this make me feel things lol. self shipping to cope hours who's with me.

@yesv01 @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @babiesimagines @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @dustyinkpages @liberty-barnes

Knowing what Tony’s like

And we all know what he’s like

The odds are if you’re his kid that he did not know you existed for at least a couple years

(I also like this backstory most bc it puts you roughly in the same age group as Peter and Harley and yall already know how I feel about that)

Your mom is probably someone that caught his attention and heart during his playboy era then disappeared

A few years later

You or turn up with a very detailed letter from your mom addressed to him

And you look so much like her it knocks the air right out of him

You also look so much like him too

You have all of his sass and intelligence and mannerisms

It’s shocking at first

You probably came into his life some time after he became iron man but before the avengers were formed

Early 2010s yk

Which means you actually have a little time to settle into your new life before shit hits the fan again

You know the whole “I’m trying to break generation cycles” thing he has with Peter in homecoming??

He has that exact same talk with you

He does so much research and a fuck ton of self reflection on how to raise a kid

And really be present for them

It's a very spicy emotional time for both of you

Because he realizes he needs to deal with all the unresolved shit he's been suppressing and ignoring

And you're trying to deal with the fact that up until now, you really weren't being taken care of like you should have been

And you're both trying to deal with how scary and dangerous all of the new threats out there are as Fury presses Tony to join the avengers

But you make it work

Because Tony is not giving up on you

And he's not resting until you're totally happy and comfortable and safe with all your needs met

The first time you call him dad?????

He has to try so hard not to cry

He's just so proud of you

And he loves you so much

He gets that feeling whenever you call him dad

Even when you say it every day

Even when you introduce him as your dad

And reference him as your dad

No matter how often it happens

He never stops getting that feeling

He majorly prioritizes making sure you have a good education too

And that you’re really getting something out of it

Whatever the best solution for you is, you’ll figure it out

While I love the idea of little baby stark just showing up to class in like 3rd grade and being like “this is my dad’s old prosthetic heart it’s a miniature arc reactor he built in a cave when he was kidnapped by terrorists” then proceeding to explain to your whole class and teacher how he designed built and powered the first draft of his suit, and how the electromagnet keeps the shrapnel in his chest from killing him

Or Tony calling you in sick and you show up a few days later sunkissed with souvenirs from the gorgeous tropical island he took you to “on business”

After getting separated and having both your lives threatened during the battle of manhattan and the surrounding events

And after getting attacked (again) and not knowing you thought he was dead during the whole ordeal with Killian

He’s going to want to keep you close to him

You can’t get kidnapped or hurt or attacked if you’re near enough for him to keep you safe

And he can’t get kidnapped or hurt or attacked if you’re close by enough to make sure he’s really doing okay

After all the shit you’ve both been through you’ll probably both end up with a lot of anxiety and attachment issues

But he works together with you to come up with plans for pretty much everything and every eventuality

Even if you know it might not help change the fact that there will be more fights to take on in the future, having a plan for keeping you safe during them makes you both feel a lot more better

And knowing he’s planned for every eventuality takes a huge weight off Tony’s mind too

Which means he can fight even better and save the world with a little more security knowing you’re okay now, and you’re going to be okay when he’s done with whatever problem he’s dealing with

So practically speaking he’ll probably get you a private tutor

Maybe online classes or homeschooling if those end up working better

But he’ll have Pepper find him some good candidates, then grill the living shit out of them

He’ll figure out their communication styles, their teaching styles, and generally if they pass the vibe test

When he finds someone who will actually be able to help you learn, they have to train a lot before they start tutoring you

The last thing he wants is for learning to become a source of distress for you instead of a tool to empower you

Plus having a tutor he can drag along with you means you have even more freedom to jet all over the world so he can surprise you with trips without either of you worrying about you falling behind

And speaking of empowering you

There is absolutely zero chance you’re not learning self defense and how to fight

He somehow helps you skip past the “wow self defense is scary” part right into the “wow this is super empowering and I feel safer and more secure since I started learning how to do this” part

Once you fly through the ranks of a bunch of different self defense and martial arts and fighting styles

Then you start doing hero training

He makes you a suit that’s armed to the teeth

And also safety protocoled to the teeth

“For emergencies only.”

After many, many safety talks, now you get to move onto the fun part

He gets to teach you how to use it

Neither of you can deny how much fun it is learning how to blast lasers from your palms or shoot rockets out of your wrists

He literally gets to teach you how to fly

It feels magical

It really feels magical watching you

His kid

Literally learn to fly with his help

God he’s just so proud of you

He loves you so much

Between the traveling and the privacy issues and the safety concerns, anything else you do

Any skills or extracurriculars or hobbies

Will also probably be from a tutor or private instructor too

One of his love languages is gift giving

He’s really looking forward to when you’re old enough for him to just hand you a credit card so he can see what you find when you come back

But until then he gets to spoil the shit out of you

Real talk he’s not going to stop spoiling you when you’re old enough to shop for yourself anyway

He loves the way your face lights up when he surprises you with something really cool

Trips, events, gadgets he made you

Anything you could conceptually want or imagine

All he has to do is wave his magic wand and now you have hyper realistic rainbow silicone mermaid tails for when you go swimming

You have a secret reading room hidden in the back of your closet that you access by pulling a book on a shelf

He even has a toy made after you in your favorite toy line

Barbies, american girls, legos, action figures

Or whatever your favorite toy/figurine is

He surprises you with a new one that looks just like you

And you lose your shit

Because who wouldn’t

What can he say

Tony loves spoiling you

Your existence is the greatest thing he could ever hope for

You are the most important beloved cherished thing in his life

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy and well taken care of

And maybe a little pampered and spoiled

But you deserve it

You deserve to have the world handed to you

Which is exactly what he intends to do

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themculibrary · 2 months

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Tony Takes Care Of Sick Peter Masterlist

Am I A Dying Man? (ao3) - Odd_I G, 5k

Summary: Peter Parker didn’t get sick, not any more. He hadn’t been really sick since before the bite, and that was what? Three years ago?

He was pretty sure it had something to do with his super healing, but he wasn’t completely sure. They never really had to test it out, after all. But he healed fast, so it generally made sense that his weird radioactive spider system also fought off any infections and illnesses.

— OR —

Peter gets sick, is a dramatic little shit, and Tony is just done with everything.

Appendicitis (ao3) - tommyparkerr T, 15k

Summary: In which Peter doesn't realize until too late that the flu shouldn't be this painful, and Tony Stark is right there to both lecture and comfort him (and accidentally call him his kid in the process).

Blankets (ao3) - kiwifeather G, 1k

Summary: Tony cares for an under-the-weather Peter the best way he knows how (which is pretty good, because he's a Dad™ now).

et tu, brute? (ao3) - turtle_bean G, 3k

Summary: Peter rounds the corner and gives a half-hearted hop. “All ready for the mission, Mr. Stark!”

Yeah, no.

“FRI, give me a read.”

“What -”

“101.7 degrees Fahrenheit, Mr. Stark,” Karen announces from Peter’s suit.

or, peter is sick, ned’s worried, and tony is... well, tony.

Extra Noodles (ao3) - duskblue G, 4k

Summary: Peter is staying with Tony while May is out of town. Unfortunately, Peter doesn't feel the best, so Tony is on a mission to figure out what's wrong so he can take the best possible care of him. He enlists his good friend, Bruce Banner in this task.

flushed away (ao3) - underpassgraffiti G, 2k

Summary: "I'm dying," he decides, flushing the toilet and resting his forehead against the rim. He feels disgusting. "I'm dying, I'm gonna die. Spider-Man dies to ravioli."

"Should I alert Boss?" Friday chirps, and Peter groans, waving a hand uselessly.

"No, m'fine," he grumbles. "WebMD will save me."

or: peter gets food poisoning & tony takes care of him.

Into the West (ao3) - ChocolateAndRedbull G, 1k

Summary: When a feverish Peter lets himself dwell on the past, Tony makes sure that he’s there to talk him through it

it's in the job description (ao3) - iron_spider_suit G, 8k

Summary: Peter gets sick just in time for movie night with the team. Tony does his best.

lessons in the metric system (ao3) - akapeterman G, 2k

Summary: “Pete,” Tony said slowly, “You’re sick.”

“No!” Peter said more urgently. “I’m hyp’thermic.”

“Trust me, you are the opposite of hypothermic right now, kiddo.”

or; Peter and Tony decide to road trip to Canada. Unfortunately, a peppermint air freshener happens to be Spider-Man's kryptonite. Confusion ensues. And honestly, Peter blames the American school system. They really should be more clear about the difference between Celsius and Farenheight.

Of Chicken Soup and Brooklyn-99 (ao3) - AnnabelleBlack20 G, 2k

Summary: Peter hadn’t gotten sick since the spider bite. But then again, his rotten Parker luck had a mind of its own. Lucky for him, he’s got a superhero in his corner. Nothing but pure fluff between IRONDAD and his SPIDERSON!

shaken up realities (shaking up reality) (ao3) - lemonlillybee M, 5k

Summary: This takes place after Endgame, and it’s a bit angsty, but everyone lives!

Written for the following Sicktember 2022 prompt: Cold Sweat

Sick Puppies (ao3) - OllieCollie G, 7k

Summary: Tony has been through a lot in his lifetime—from being kidnapped by terrorists to saving the world multiple times and just about everything in between—but he may be facing his toughest challenge yet: taking care of two kids with the flu.

Since I Have You (ao3) - lunasquared G, 2k

Summary: He didn’t register the fact that he started falling until he was caught by a pair of arms right before he hit the floor.

“Whoa there kiddo,” Tony said, helping Peter over to the couch. “What’s going on?”

“‘s hot.” Peter mumbled as he laid down on the couch thankful to finally be off his feet.

Peter gets sick and Tony helps take care of him.

we all have a hunger (ao3) - MotherKarizma G, 6k

Summary: “Morgan,” he croaked, throat afire, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hey – hey, it’s okay, I’m just…”

“You’re sick.” She mustered up something like bravery, using it to straighten her back and plaster a very grown-up look on her face. “I’ll get Daddy!”

“No!” Morgan jumped, eyes wide. Peter fought to calm his voice. He offered her a smile that couldn’t have been convincing, not even to a five year old. “No, you don’t have to. I feel better now. You don’t have to tell him.”

Morgan’s lips wobbled. Peter knew what her fake pout looked like well enough to know this wasn’t it. “Petey…”

Peter had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. He felt guilty for scaring her. He felt guilty for forgetting to lock his bedroom door, for making scaring her a possibility. He kind of, in a way, felt guilty for doing it in the first place, though not nearly enough to stop.

But more than anything, he felt guilty for this: “Morgan, promise me you won’t tell him. He…he won’t let us swim anymore if you do. And I’m not sick, my tummy just hurt a little bit, but I’m all better now. Promise me you won’t tell him, okay?”

“But…”

“Morgan. Promise.”

When I'm Sick Or Suffering (I'll Still Call You) (ao3) - l_u_c_k_y_c_l_o_v_e_r G, 2k

Summary: Peter comes down with the flu, but a certain superhero makes sure he doesn't have to deal with it on his own.

Wingman (ao3) - Sahiya G, 4k

Summary: Holy shit, Rhodey thought. Tony’s a dad.

#themculibrary #marvel #mcu #irondad #masterlists #irondad masterlist #sick!peter #sick!peter masterlist

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swan-of-sunrise · 5 months

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His Girl Friday

Summary: At Tony Stark's forty-fourth birthday party, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist and his longtime personal assistant finally address what's remained unspoken but secretly acknowledged between them for many, many years.

Pairings: Tony Stark X F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first time writing a Tony-centric fic and I had a lot of fun with it, so thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

His Girl Friday May 29th, 2014 Avengers Tower, New York City (Fanfiction Masterlist)

Being employed as Anthony Edward Stark’s personal assistant was a challenging and often times perilous job, and that was before he’d announced himself to the world as Iron Man. But (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no ordinary personal assistant; she stood by the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist when he vowed to stop producing weapons at Stark Industries after being imprisoned by terrorists for three long months, she stuck with him when his secret illness and subsequent erratic behavior drove nearly everyone else away, and she flat-out refused to believe he’d been killed at the hands of the Mandarin. It was evident that Tony Stark was the closest thing she had to a best friend. Lately, however, she’d begun to notice a significant shift in her feelings towards her employer, feelings that definitely went beyond friendship and feelings that she suspected he was feeling as well; she tried her best to keep them at bay, fearful of ruining such a meaningful friendship and throwing away the only job she’d ever truly enjoyed on a baseless suspicion, and thankfully, there were always plenty of distractions to keep herself preoccupied with in her unique line of work.

From her place at the back of the room, (Y/N) scanned over the enormous checklist in her hands to see if she’d missed anything important; the guests were chatting, dancing and taking full advantage of the open bar while the DJ was playing all of Tony’s favorite songs in honor of his forty-forth birthday. All in all, not one of the worst birthday parties I’ve ever planned for him, she thought to herself, a reluctant smile playing on her lips as she recalled the disastrous thirty-ninth birthday party that resulted in the Malibu mansion’s near destruction at the hands of Tony and Rhodey. That particular birthday party was the reason why she’d initially been a little nervous at the prospect of the Avengers attending the soiree, but it only took a brief glance around the bustling common room to see that they were the perfect guests; Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson played pool with Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, while Bruce Banner hovered near the back of the enamored crowd of people that surrounded a slightly-inebriated Thor and listened to his enthusiastic re-tellings of the adventures he’d had on Asgard. Pepper and Dr. Helen Cho were seated at the bar and chatted over glasses of Chardonnay while Happy was hyper-focused on his phone, no doubt catching up on an episode of Downton Abbey. With an inward chuckle, the personal assistant returned her attention to her lengthy list of tasks as the classic rock music continued to play.

“Hey beautiful, how ‘bout a dance?”

“Sorry, but I’m worki-” (Y/N) looked up to see Tony Stark himself standing before her, looking as handsome as ever in his expertly tailored black tuxedo and flashing her his signature grin that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. “Hey, you. How’re you enjoying your birthday party?”

Tony tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged noncommittally. “It’s one of your better-executed extravaganzas, I will say, but it would absolutely skyrocket to the top if I could spend the rest of the evening with my favorite personal assistant.”

(Y/N) arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Tony, I’m your only personal assistant.”

“Exactly, which meant you get the title by default. Yay you!” The billionaire gave her a small applause and she simply heaved an exasperated but fond sigh at his typical theatrics. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’ve been working your ass off all night and the Birthday Boy says that you should take a well-deserved break.” As his trademark smirk softened into a gentle smile, Tony took his hand out of his pocket and offered it to her in a clear invitation to join him. “Please?”

Although her heart was screaming at her to take his hand and allow him to whisk her into an evening of laughter and coy flirtations, the rational part of her knew that she had a job to complete and that anything more than a friendly conversation could jeopardize their platonic relationship. Masking her disappointment with a shrug and apologetic smile, (Y/N) shook her head and held up her checklist for him to see. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I still have so much to do; I’ve gotta do another check-in with Maria and the security team downstairs, make sure that the pastry chef brings out the cake on time, that the waiters serve the guests champagne at the right tempera-Tony!” She exclaimed when Tony’s hand shot out and snatched the checklist out of her grasp. “Anthony Edward Stark, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting rid of an obstacle,” Tony easily replied, holding the checklist above his head and snickering when she unsuccessfully attempted to snatch it back. “Seriously, Girl Friday, just one dance and I’ll let you get back to your boring planning. I’ll even avoid bugging you the rest of the night if it means I can spend a little time with one of my best friends.”

Tony’s rare sincerity softened (Y/N)’s heart, and she felt her resolve crumble as she stared into his gleaming brown eyes. “All right, one dance. Do you ever get tired with always getting your way?”

“Nope!” Tony happily popped the ‘p’ and tucked the checklist into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket before offering her his hand once again, and (Y/N) smiled to herself as the billionaire escorted her to the edge of the dance floor and whisked her into a slow dance to Bon Jovi’s ‘Bed of Roses.’ The warmth of his hand on the curve of her waist combined with the feel of his body brushing up against hers caused her heartbeat to quicken its pace, and she silently prayed that he wouldn’t notice the effect he had on her. “You know, I was being serious before. You’ve truly outdone yourself tonight, (Y/N), and can I just say that you look amazing?” Tony’s eyes briefly glanced down at her red chiffon evening gown and he gave her an appreciative nod. “Mm-hmm, hot-rod red is definitely your color. So, what’s your secret? How is it you can organize and schedule a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist’s entire life and look drop-dead gorgeous while doing it?”

(Y/N) chuckled in amusement, the skirt of her gown swirling around her legs as he twirled her in a circle. “We all have our own superpowers; you fight aliens and terrorists in a red and gold Nitinol suit, and I oversee the hectic life of the man inside the suit to the best of my abilities.”

“Not sure which is the more dangerous job, to be honest.” Tony smirked, expertly guiding her back into his arms and holding her slightly closer than he had before. “But if I could do that death-glare that you’ve perfected over the years, then that would sure make my job a helluva lot easier and people would think twice before messing with Iron Man.” (Y/N) arched a brow and in response, Tony snickered. “Yep, there’s the death-glare!”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but this death-glare is tailor-made for Tony Stark and Tony Stark alone,” (Y/N) replied with a wry smile, and the billionaire’s grin widened as she looked into his sparkling brown eyes. They danced together in a comfortable yet expectant silence, almost as if one was waiting for the other to speak first, but both remained quiet while the 80’s power ballad continued to play; it wasn’t until she noticed the way he was biting his lower lip – one of the few tell-tale signs that there was something weighing heavy on the billionaire’s mind – that (Y/N) finally mustered her courage to address him. “You got a lot of cool presents this year, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dollars in charitable donations gifted in your name. Not too shabby, huh?”

Tony shrugged and replied, “I’m a sucker for gifts and I’m beyond stoked that we’ve raised so much in donations, but…” His eyes briefly flicked downwards to focus on the fluttering movement of her chiffon skirt, suddenly appearing as anxious as (Y/N) felt. “Can we play a quick round of Hypothetical Hold’em?”

A nostalgic feeling washed over (Y/N) at the mention of their old game. Back in the more impulsive and less responsible days of Tony Stark, it had been an effective form of decision-making created out of the billionaire’s respect for her opinions and general advice; they hadn’t played very many rounds in the years since he announced to the world that he was Iron Man and while she was happy that he’d grown and matured so much over the years, a small part of her missed their little game. “I’m a little rusty but I think I’ve still got it. Shoot.”

“A guy I know, Walter, he’s got just about everything he could possibly want in life, except the only thing he really wants is something he can’t have. You see,” Tony expertly dipped her and her breath hitched at the sudden movement, their eyes connecting as he continued. “There’s this woman – let’s call her Hildy – and he’s been in love with her for a while. And Hildy, she’s goddamn fantastic: smart, kind, funny, gorgeous, the whole enchilada.”

Heart sinking into her stomach, (Y/N) mustered up a small smile to hide her pain while he slowly righted her. “Hildy sounds wonderful. So, what’s stopping this Walter guy from telling her how he feels?”

“A couple of things, actually.” He took a deep breath. “She’s not just one of his best friends, but…you see, she’s also his personal assistant.”

The din of the party faded away as (Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock at the billionaire’s candid words; if not for the seriousness written across Tony’s face and the longing gleam that had formed in his brown eyes while he stared into hers, she would’ve assumed that he was pulling her leg. But she knew him, knew him far better than almost anyone else in the world, and it was clear as day that he was speaking directly from the heart. “…Oh.”

Tony nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a tried and true attempt to hide behind a more lighthearted façade. “She’s taken such good care of him. He was a loose cannon for a long time…still is, in a way, but she’s gotten him through all the tough spots. He’s good friends with some ex-assassins, a super-soldier and a literal god, but she’s the strongest person he’s ever met and the only person he could ever imagine giving his heart to. But as much as he loves her, he’s not willing to roll the dice and risk losing her from his life forever; that’s why he…” Tony cast his gaze downwards and his hand gripped hers tight. “That’s why I never said anything before.”

“So, what changed?” She whispered as she slowly moved the hand that had been resting on his shoulder to press against the spot where his arc reactor once resided, feeling his rapid heartbeat and silently marveling at how perfectly it matched her own.

“Looking across the room and seeing you with your checklist; you’ve planned over a dozen successful birthday parties for me, but that didn’t stop you from treating tonight as if it was the first. It’s one of the thousand ways you show how much you care about me, and that’s what gave me the courage to walk to the back of the room and finally ask you for a dance.”

The booming opening chords of AC/DC’s ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ filled the room and while more guests took to the dance floor for the lively song, (Y/N) grabbed Tony’s hand and practically dragged him away from the crowd, not stopping until they were tucked away from any prying eyes in Captain Rogers’ nearby office. When she closed the door behind them and turned around, she was met with an apprehensive-looking Tony and her subtle smile grew into an all-out grin as her eyes filled with happy tears. “You love me?”

“I love you,” Tony replied, his voice growing steady and his eyes filling with confidence at her obvious happiness. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’re killing me here. Do you love me or what?”

Beaming with joy, (Y/N) brought her hands up to cup his face between them and nodded. “You’re such an asshat, but I love you with all my heart.” Tony’s grin grew to match her own and he leaned forward to kiss her, but was halted by her fingers covering his eager lips. “And in the spirit of covering both our asses, I’d like to take this moment to formally tenure my resignation, Mr. Stark.”

“Duly noted, Miss (Y/L/N). And since I’m such a good ex-boss, I’ll send your resume and a letter of recommendation to a certain defrosted super-soldier who could use all the assistance he can get.”

“Becoming Captain America’s personal assistant? It’ll be a cake-walk, but at least I’ll have my favorite hot mess to come home to.”

(Y/N) moved her hand and giggled at how quickly Tony’s arms wrapped around her waist to tug her closer, but her amusement soon gave way to passion as their lips finally met in a long overdue kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I figured that we all could use a little fluff, and what better way to deliver it than in a friends-to-lovers trope-fest? Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season!

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emwritesstuff · 5 months

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DYNAMO | Steve Rogers x Reader | part 1.

HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.

AO3 | Masterlist | Playlist (coming soon!)

notes: starting off a steve x reader/oc that I had lying around for a long time to cleanse our palates. (warnings: mentions of human experimentation, violence, cursing, stressed!steve rogers) (2.5K words)

1: THE CATALYST

In The Adventure of the Dying Detective, sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote: “I wonder how a battery feels when it pours electricity into a non-conductor.”

Well here’s how she feels, Doyle: exhausted – drained, if we’re getting scientific – and with a massive migraine. Sometimes nosebleeds, too. That’s how you feel whenever you use your abilities. It’s never a good time, and lately it’s been getting worse.

That’s why you’re back in this godforsaken place. Not exactly back. You’ve never been here; this specific facility was basically only an archive of sorts, and when you were still HYDRA you were confined to labs and larger, safer bases.

This place is really under everyone’s nose. It sits under a parking building in Detroit, right at the corner of a busy avenue. It’s a smart choice of location, because amidst the bustle of people coming and going for their cars, nobody looked at you twice as you went in, dropped into a maintenance hatch and ambled around until you found the heavy vaulted door you were looking for.

You’re positive there’s some information about you and the experiment you were a part – the shining star, truly – of, in here. When HYDRA fell and all of its secrets were leaked to the internet, you weren’t very worried about backing up your own records. You just wanted to live.

When you’ve spent most of your life being trained and turned into a human weapon, only ever seeing the real-world during the few missions you’ve gone on, places like McDonald’s and department stores become a whole new world of wonders once you get to experience them.

But now you needed them. Soon after the fall, however, most of the data was erased by hackers that were still affiliated with the organization. Lucky you.

However, every good terrorist knows to keep physical copies for safekeeping. And if the manila files stamped with your name were anywhere, they had to be here. Or in at least 3 other places just like this one, but you had already checked the first couple of them, and the other was blown to shit by Tony Stark and his little avenging friends.

They were really very good at that – blowing things up and causing havoc everywhere they went. Aliens, HYDRA, murderous crazed robots – whatever the enemy might be, something was sure to be exploding. And in the end, they’re still revered as heroes. Must be fun.

Anyway. Back to the files.

There’s immensurable amount of them, and they were meticulously organized, thank god, but you still decide you’d go through each one just in case.

You’re not in Assets. Also not in Agents. Or Work in progress.

Either way, it has to be here somewhere. Just maybe misplaced. Or concealed.

This place is basically your last hope, before you’re obligated to hunt down the hackers you know of and squeeze the information out of them instead. One of them has to have kept a copy somewhere, but these people were hard to find, and you are starting to feel like you’re running out of time.

The migraines and nosebleeds are getting more frequent, lasting longer, and hurting more. Not to mention the amount of times you lost control and fried every electronic on the vicinity. You could walk into a hospital, but that would probably mean getting dragged to the Raft as soon as the American government took notice of your existence.

And you seriously doubt any regular doctor would know how to deal with… whatever is going on with you.

You don’t miss your former life at all – but at least the scientists and doctors in HYDRA kept you somewhat stable. You survived this far, so someone is to blame.

It must be the adrenaline, but right now you feel great. No spots, no headache. Bouncing on your heels, bobbing your head to the music on your earbuds, while you rummage through an ocean of paper. The archive has been long abandoned, a thick layer of dust covering every surface you hadn’t touched. It’s dead quiet, too, and you start thinking you might spend the night.

It’s been a while since you’ve rested your head in a quiet place, where you didn’t have to look over your shoulder every two minutes. Yeah, that’d be fucking nice.

You’ve been on the run for god knows how long. In fact, you do know – it’s been a little over a couple of years since the public downfall of HYDRA, and everyone you used to know was either arrested, dead, or had gone underground like the rats they were.

You like to distance yourself from your former peers, mostly because if you knew they were all a bunch of Nazis – or if anyone had told you they were actually the bad guys – you probably would have found a way out sooner. Imagine your surprise, finally being free to live in the real world and finding out that everything you’ve been taught was fabricated. Still, authorities weren’t about to make that distinction so, like a HYDRA rat, you also went off the grid.

It’s safe to say you don’t really trust people these days.

You hate it, having to live in hiding. You’re not really very good at it, to be honest. It’s hard being coy, and you wear your heart on your sleeve; your face betrays you when your lack of skill for lying doesn’t. Half-truths and misdirection are the only things keeping your anonymity intact lately, and it works as long as you lower social interaction down to almost zero.

Having to decide whoever looks like they would ask the least amount of questions is exhausting. So is dodging those questions. Dodging bullets is easier. You’d backflip your way out of a full cartridge before facing a 10-minute conversation with someone.

You huff in frustration. The dust that now swirls in the air makes your eyes dry and your nose itch, you’ve already been through what’s probably a good fifty files and still, you found nothing. Not even a mention to your name or your identification number.

You scratch their faint marks on your forearm absentmindedly.

It should be here.

You’re starting to get a little offended, even.

“Can’t find what you’re looking for?”

A male voice coming from the door gets you to stand in alarm. Its owner is tall and wears a navy tactical suit, and you can make out his striking blue eyes even in the dim light of the room. He’s carrying a shield, painted in red, white and blue.

You stare at Captain America, and he stares back. He’s blocking the door you entered from. From your earlier survey you know there’s a possible exit to your left, but you doubt you can get there before that oversized dinner plate of his slices you in half.

“Who are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Cap.”

He scowls at you and you give him a smile, a crooked thing that makes you look a little crazy. “Are you HYDRA? Nat— Yes. We got company.”

So, he came with a team. Cute. Just like the comics.

“Used to be, technically. I’m done with that life.”

He cocks his head. His gaze pierces through you like laser sight.

Now there’s someone you don’t want to be trapped in a conversation with.

“So why are you here?”

You sigh. Too many questions, not enough fucking off to wherever sunny green fields he lives with his superhero friends in.

“I must’ve left my library card in here somewhere. You’d think no one would care that much about Tolstoy, but they do.”

“Do you really think this is the time for jokes, agent?”

You watch him as he tightens his hand around his shield, and moves his feet towards you a few inches. “Ah ah – I wouldn’t do that.”

He takes another step, and you narrow your eyes.

“I don’t feel like fighting today, so. Don’t.”

“Aren’t you done with the life? You shouldn’t be considering me your enemy.”

“Do you rehearse those lines or what?”

Cap clenches his jaw. It brings you a strange kind of satisfaction to annoy him. A small victory, knowing you can get to him like that.

Yet you still feel like you’re a gazelle being hounded by a lion.

There’s still a considerable distance between you, but you know he’s strong and fast, stronger and faster than you, especially when you haven’t trained properly in so long.

And Captain America hates HYDRA. He wouldn’t hesitate in kicking your ass.

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight. Come with me, and share your intel.” He puts his shield down, and you furrow your eyebrows.

He’s wrong. It always ends in a fight. That’s just how the world works.

“You might even get a lighter sentence.”

Of course. That’s what this was about: you giving them everything you know and then getting locked up. As a treat.

“I’ll pass. I do value my freedom, I’m sure you’ll understand. Considering.”

Gesturing vaguely to his outfit, you dip down to continue rummaging through the next box of files, even finding one with the 2006-7 New Year’s Eve Party planning, but nothing about your program. Priorities.

“I can’t let you walk out of this. I’m sure you’ll understand, considering.”

You snicker.

So much for having a good day with no headache.

On the wall to your left there’s an outlet. You put your hand over it, and the electric current floats towards your palm as if it was liquid. The lights start to flicker.

“What—” You hear Captain America stammer, and you chuckle. So blissfully ignorant.

He has no idea of the freak of nature you are. Well, not really of nature. You’re more of a synthetic made kind of freak.

More energy flows into you, and the room goes dark. You rise to your feet and watch electricity crackle around your fingers, illuminating your face with a blue glow. You don’t see the Captain anymore, but you do see the glint of the shield as it’s being lifted up.

You’re sure he sees you, but he’s probably too stunned trying to process what you just did.

“Apologies in advance.”

When you extend your arms in front of you, palms aiming to the spot where you think he might be, you can’t see much.

After power flashes out of you, everything is clearer. The bolts light up the space between you and him, much narrower than you calculated, and you have to adjust your position so you can hit him.

He gurgles and shakes like a fish out of water once it reaches him, blinding blue and white encasing his body like a cocoon. He drops to the ground.

It feels like hot water in your veins until it’s burning.

It hurts, it hurts like a bitch, and as Captain America is convulsing on the floor your groans turn to wails. You haven’t done this in a while, and you forgot how much pain there is when the fuel starts running out.

You stop after a few seconds, dropping your hands at your sides, and stumble into a metal shelf when your balance falters. You could never stand using your powers for very long. But this time you don’t have to. Cap is immobile on the floor, only his eyelids twitching. Maybe you went a little hard on him.

You’d feel more sorry if he didn’t want to arrest you.

At least he’s alive. That’s something.

You taste something ferulic and wet when you lick your lips. Nosebleed.

One. Two. Three.

Your heat starts throbbing, and suddenly even the dim light is too much on your eyes.

There’s the migraine.

You were almost returning to your search when you hear the faint voices coming from his intercom. Cap? Rogers, over. Steve, you there? Over.

Rogers groans, starting to stir up. You had to get out of there, and fast, before the rest of his friends came to the rescue.

Fuck it, you could always come back another time. Or even go after those hackers already, because you doubted this place would be up for much longer, now that the Avengers knew of its existence.

You wipe your nose on the sleeve of your hoodie, grab your backpack and slip through the left exit, leaving America there to deal with his own future headache.

It took a while for Steve Rogers to recover his senses. He gained control of his eyes first, finding himself staring at a humidity stained ceiling. His extremities were tingling, and his insides felt like soup.

The burning sensation on the surface of his skin subsides after a while. His heart is racing, and he can’t really remember the last time that happened. Or why. Right now, it’s because he just got attacked by a human defibrillator.

Steve? What’s going on, Cap? Over.

He needs a minute to realize the voices are in his earpiece, and not hallucinations in his head.

I’m starting to worry, Rogers. Over.

He groans, rolling over. “M’ here. Over.”

Steve hoists himself up, thinking the girl must’ve fried his pain receptors, because his toenails hurt. And his earlobes, and his right leg. He shakes his head as if his ears have water in them.

She’s gone. For a second, he even doubts she was there at all, but there are footprints on the dusty floor, leading all the way to a door on his right.

Who—?

“Damn, you look rough.”

“What the hell happened?”

Natasha Romanoff and Bucky Barnes show up through the same hallway he had come from earlier.

“I—I got electrocuted, I think.”

“You think?!”

Steve picks up the shield, panting.

“There was a— girl. She’s some kind of enhanced. Can’t have gone far. I’ll explain later.”

His body regains its normal functions as he’s trudging through empty corridors, Bucky and Nat at his heels. He still feels a little frazzled, but it could be worse, and he’s thankful it was him and his serum-improved body at the receiving end of the lightning.

It could be so much worse.

As it turns out, the girl is nowhere to be found, not a trace to be followed even after the trio splits up to cover more ground. Bucky insists Steve needs to be checked at the med bay ASAP. Natasha assures him that they’ll clear out the facility afterwards, even if she’s convinced none of the paper files have anything of relevance anymore.

The girl seemed to be looking for something in there, though, and Steve remembers reading frustration and dread on her wide, doe-like eyes.

She didn’t even look like someone who could be an agent, though due to the too-large hoodie she wore there wasn’t much to analyze anyway. That gets him intrigued.

Steve has a hard time letting go of things. Especially open-ended things. He spent nearly two weeks obsessing over the ending of Blade Runner, because he needed a goddamned definitive answer.

He needs to know, like he needed to know if Deckard was human or replicant.

He’ll find her.

You can’t shake the feeling that you’ll be seeing him and his team again. Maybe they’ll hunt you down, since there was a big demand for ex-HYDRA people they could fill jailcells with.

Whisking away along a maze of corridors and endless doors, you manage to find a second vaulted door. You leave the whole facility undetected, hopping out a window and disappearing in a back alley.

Maybe you are a rat.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #enemies to lovers #emwrites

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wandafiction · 3 months

Text

In Every Universe - Part 4

Warnings: Descriptions of abuse and death

You wake with a small groan and the sound of the door clicking, rubbing the back of your hand against your eyes to rid them of sleep, sitting up careful to not wake Peter who can feel is sleeping next to you. You’re not sure how he is quite comfortable, since he is between you and the wall, but he looks like he is enjoying a peaceful sleep so you don’t dare wake him. Instead you look to whoever has walked in, tilting your head at the two people standing by the cell door, their eyes flicking between you and Peter.

“That kid.” The man, the one you recognise from hiding in the vents says lightly with a chuckle.

“He is a smart kid.” You tilt your head the other way, your eyes darting to the other man, who you instantly recognise.

No one says anything as you carefully climb out of the bed, making sure the blanket doesn’t fall off of Peter and shifting him a little so he isn’t so cramped against the wall. You didn’t tell him about the flashback, and when he asked how you knew about the Percy Jackson film you simply said one of your hydra buddies had mentioned it, the pang in your heart going ignored as he smiled at you. You brush some hair out of his face before turning around and quietly making your way to the cell door, stretching out your muscles as you do to rid your body of the last remnants of sleep.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of being visited by the one and only Tony Stark and his cowardly vent hiding buddy who shoots arrows?” You were looking between the two of them, deciding to sit down on the floor crossing your legs and leaning back on your hands.

“We just wanted to check on the kid.” The man sets down his bow and arrows against the wall moving to sit on the floor opposite you.

“I don’t kill children.”

“He’s 17.” Your eyes dart to Tony Stark, the corner of your mouth twitching disapprovingly. “I’m just saying it means he is a teenager.”

“Still a kid. And I don’t bring harm to them.” You say with authority, smirking when Tony holds his hands up in defeat.

“So you don’t kill kids, that's a new one for someone who works with a terrorist organisation.” Your jaw locks at the labelling he gives Hydra.

“My job was to complete contracts, I avoided the ones where there was a potential kids could get hurt.”

“So you have morals.”

“Children are innocent, and if me making sure they live and don’t watch someone be murdered in front of them then sure I have morals.”

“You know, you’re different from other Hydra agents I have interviewed, or interrogated whatever word you want to use.” Your eyes slowly trail from Tony to the man sitting in front of you, your mind made that you definitely don’t like the rich man in the room.

“How so Clint Barton?” He doesn’t react as you say his name, instead he seems to relax more by copying the way you’re sitting, he’s relaxed.

“Well Y/n y/l/n most Hydra agents bite the fake tooth with cyanide when it gets too much, yet here you are letting a kid drag you into a movie night and not even trying to escape when he gave you multiple opportunities.” You scrunch your brows looking at the still sleeping Peter behind you.

“He was testing me?” You look back to Clint who looks at Stark and your scowl as you look to the man.

“He didn’t know. We simply planted the seed about maybe a movie night bringing back a memory or something and he did the rest.” You don’t know why but that makes you stand up in frustration glaring at Stark.

“You used the kid without his prior knowledge?” Stark shrugs and you shake your head, your glare not wavering from the man in front of you. “You’re a sick man Stark. That boy trusts you and you use his innocence against him to test me?”

“Well when you put it like that you make me sound like a dick.” You scoff nodding.

“Yeah that's because you are. Just because I am the enemy in your eyes does not make me the only bad person in this room. Sure I've killed and hurt people, I’ve tortured many, taken peoples lives in front of their significant others but I am not the monster here. You’re the man standing in front of me who thinks there are no consequences to his actions, the man who thinks that just because he has money that he can pay his way out of a situation, just because you work under the name avengers doesn’t mean you are absolved of your sins. You are just as much the enemy in people's eyes as I am yours.” You spit angrily.

“And yet I am out here while you are in there.” You kiss your teeth at his smug smirk, looking to Clint who has stayed silent and when you see him simply observing you look back to Tony.

“I am in here because of him, he did his job, he caught me. Sure I am in here and you are out there free to walk about, free to do whatever pleases you Mr Stark, but the threat to the people of this earth is just the same as it was before. See I am a faceless, nameless assassin who most of the world are in the dark about. They hear about a murder on the news and they feel sorry for the victims, not scared for their lives. But when they hear about something that is an avengers level threat, or Iron man is here to save the day … well they run inside. They barricade themselves in, afraid that today is the day they die. Not at my hand, not at the hand of the enemies but at the hand of the avengers. You do not avenge for the people of this earth, you just enjoy the spoils after the battles and the praise from those who believe you are the good guys.”

“We are the good guys.” Tony takes a step forward pressing his finger against the glass, from the corner of the glass you can see Clint standing up and you take a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure Peter is still asleep.

“No.” One word, the force of which you say it makes Tony flinch and you chuckle to yourself. “How can you label yourself the good guys when you have more blood on your hands than someone you label bad. Make the maths make sense because from where I am standing you are the enemy, you are the one who hurts humanity the most. You are the bad guys.”

“Where is the person who used to be all about saving the human race, stopping threats that could wipe out humanity. What happened to the person that would fly next to me into battle and have a drink with me afterwards?” You chuckle, shaking your head spinning on your heels feeling your powers trying to break free inside you.

“Whoever this person you think I am, I am not them.”

“You are Y/n y/l/n and you are, were, my friend.” You grind your teeth together, your mind pounding as hazy thoughts flash in your mind but nothing is clear and it's just a lot of white noise.

“I am not this person. I am agent P, a level 8 Hydra agent who has 568 kills to my name with a success rate of 100%. I was born and raised in Hydra and will continue to serve them once I get out of this hell hole of a place.” You don’t notice the way the room around you is slowly heating up, not registering the voice of Friday alerting the main to the sudden increase.

“Tony, you need to stop.” Clint looks worriedly between the two of you then Peter, but the rage inside of you is blinding.

“You are Y/n y/l/n. I found you the day your powers exploded and you killed those you loved around you, burnt your house to ashes in mere seconds. I was the one to find you curled up in the fireplace that was the only thing to survive the blast. I was the one to rescue you from yourself, so don’t tell me that I don’t know you because without me you would probably be dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You don’t register your power surging until it's too late a flash of flames, erupting from your hands and chest, floods the room in a flash.

You fall to your knees curling up slightly as your powers pull all the energy from within the room back, the flames being pulled back around you, a dangerous swirling fireball in the middle of the room is all that the others could see. Your hands fly to your head as the flashes become clearer and you shout in agony as the pounding in your head only gets worse.

/\/\/\/\

“Hey mom.” You chuck your bag on the dining room table, sitting down next to your mom who places a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hey sweetie. How was your day?” You lean your head against her shoulder looking at her work on her computer which to you looks like a bunch of numbers that somehow make sense to her.

“School was okay.” You shrug grabbing your phone and look to see texts from all your friends, most of them calling you awesome and totally amazing.

“Just okay.” You close your phone before she can see anything humming.

“Yeah, school is just school.” You shrug and your mom just hums in response, before both of you jump slightly when the door slams shut.

“Oh my god I can’t believe you got into a fight today!” Your little brother comes running into the room, stopping when he sees your mom sitting next to you. “Shit.”

“You got into a fight?!” You stand from your seat smiling sheepishly trying to avoid the look of rage on her face.

“Look, I can explain.” You move to your bag to grab the report that you were hoping not to show your parents.

“Oh I want to hear this.” You cringe at the sound of your fathers voice as he enters the house and you stuff the report back in your bag. “Why have I just got a phone call from the highschool telling me you got suspended because you got into a fight?”

“You got suspended?!” You look between your mom and dad who both have looks of anger but also disappointment, then glare at your brother who mouths out a small apology.

“Look, I can explain.” You try again as your dad sits down next to your mom, pointing to the free chair at the head of the table and you are quick to sit down.

“Go on then. Tell us for what reason did you end up in a fight.” You grit your teeth trying not to shout at your parents to shut up and listen.

“Yes, how exactly is there a good excuse for mom, dad I got suspended because of a fight.”

“It was a boy.” You shout and both your parents look at you with bewilderment before scoffing.

“What so you got into some scrap with a girl over a boy?” You mom chuckles in disbelief.

“No, no. I got in a fight with a boy.” You tap your foot on the ground, this is really not how you wanted to do this.

“And why exactly would you fight a boy, you are a young lady. Ladies do not fight, let alone fight boys.” You hold your tongue stopping yourself from rolling your eyes at your dad.

“So you got in a fight with a boy because what? He didn’t want to take you to prom? He denied you himself and you got angry? Did he not look in your direction when you called his name?” You shake your head chuckling at your mom’s ideals. “How is any of this funny young lady? Stop laughing this instant.”

“Sorry, I just, you think I would fight a boy because he wouldn’t look my way?” You look at your brother who is trying to hold in a laugh of his own and you signal with your head for him to escape to his room knowing this is going to be a long night.

“Well it wouldn’t surprise me?” Your head whips around to look at your dad, both your parents with a look of utmost seriousness.

“And what do you mean by that?” You are just about ready to walk away from the table and leave the house at this point.

“I just mean it doesn't surprise me if boys don’t look in your direction because you don’t dress like, well a girl. If I didn’t know you were a girl I would assume that I had another son.” Your jaw locks, your eyes glaring into your fathers. “I just mean you dress too manly, don’t wear enough dresses. No wonder you haven’t brought a boy home yet, I would have been embarrassed to bring your mother home if she dressed like you do.”

“You know what fuck both of you!” You stand from your chair grabbing the handle of your bag and move to walk away, but a harsh grip on your wrist stops you and pulls you back as you feel a hand make contact with your cheek.

“Don’t you dare speak to us like that. We are you parents, we demand respect.” You father seethes but you simply stand in front of him, rolling your shoulders back a little and look up to him.

“Maybe I would show you respect if I got some in return.” You look past your dad to your mom. “And just so you know I didn’t fight a boy because he didn’t look my way, I fought a boy because he couldn’t keep his hands off of a clearly uncomfortable girl. My girl.”

“That was not your battle to be a part of, if she didn’t want his attention she should have spoken up.” You pull your arm harshly at your dad's grip, hardening your gaze as you look back up at him.

“And maybe if the boy had listened to her I wouldn’t have left him with a black eye and a knee where the sun doesn't shine.” You take a step back so you can look at both of your parents. “Maybe if he showed a little more respect then he wouldn’t be in hospital making sure he can still have kids. Maybe if he showed a little more respect he would have stopped when the girl asked him to. Maybe if he showed a little more respect I wouldn’t be standing here teaching my own parents about the need for respect.”

“Lower your voice, Your brother is going to get upset.” You laugh sarcastically at your mother.

“Like I care, in fact he is the only one who cares enough to make sure I wasn’t hurt. He is the only one who cares enough to get to know me. He is the only one that cares enough to know that, that boy got what was coming. He is the only one that cares enough about anything in my life. So do not bring Matty into this when he is just an innocent bystander. I am 17 and you treat me like I am 5 and I’m done. Yeah I’m done.”

With that you go to walk past your parents, to make your way upstairs but you’re pulled back by your hair wincing in pain at the harshness. Your eyes water as a hand comes in contact with the other side of your face but you don’t let them see, locking your jaw and dropping your gaze to the floor. You could feel something growing inside alongside the rage that you have been feeling since you got into the fight.

“You disgust me.” Your mom grips your jaw turning your head with such force you're surprised your neck doesn’t break.

“Get the fuck off me.” Everything feels like it's boiling inside you ready to overflow as your eyes meet your mothers, a rage you’ve never felt before building behind them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You don’t quite understand what she means as she takes a step back, the color draining from her face as she looks behind you too your father.

“You little bitch.” Suddenly your dad is turning you around and his fist connects with your face sending you tumbling to the ground.

“Y/n are you okay?” You look to see your brother at the top of the stairs looking down at you on the floor.

“Yeah I am good buddy, just go back upstairs we can play some playstation in a minute.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure matty. I just tripped over my own feet, that's all.” He looks between your parents before hesitantly nodding.

“Okay well I can’t wait. Love you.” You smile through the pain at him.

“Love you too, I promise I will be up in a minute.” He hums glancing one last time around the room before making his way back to his room.

“You’re a freak.” Your dad turns you over so you’re laying on your back with his fist raised. “Freak.”

As he brings his fists down you cover your face with your arms, curling up as you feel his fist connect with them once, twice, three times. On the third time you feel the rage inside you boil over and shout in anger scrambling to your feet and tackling your dad to the floor. You’re too quick for him to put up a defence as your fists strike his face over and over as your mom shouts at you and tries to drag you off of him.

You hardly recognise his face as you fight off your mothers attempts to stop you, purely seeing red and your body is consumed with rage. With one final punch, you scream out in pain and anger, your eyes scrunching closed at a sudden bright flash feeling your energy being sucked from you at the same time as feeling vast amounts of energy being pulled towards you.

Your head hurts from the two extremes, your hands on your head as you scream in pain before you feel a final burst of energy leave your body and you collapse on the floor next to your dad.

Your breathing is laboured and heavy as you turn your head to look at your dad, but you feel a wave of absolute terror course through your body when all you see is ash and smoke. Nobody is lying next to you, just ash and timber smouldering away. You sit up quickly to look for your mom but you feel yourself get dizzy when you see nothing but the blackness of smoke. Your eyes dart around to look for anything, standing quickly when you remember your brother is upstairs.

Running up the first few steps you shout your brother's name, only it turns into a yelp as you fall to the floor. You groan in pain rolling onto your side to get yourself back up, looking at how you fell. Then you see it, or don’t see it. There are no stairs. You look up. There is no upstairs. You look around. There is no house, not truly. You feel the panic set in as you look around the house that is just ash and dust, the smoke from earlier dissipating as you walk around.

“No, no, no, no.”

You get on your hands and knees searching the remains of what used to be your home, a small amount of hope igniting inside when you see your brother's dog tag necklace laying in front of you. He has always wanted to join the military so you had brought him some dog tags for his 13th birthday ready for the day he joined. Your hand reaches out for them pulling them quickly hoping to find your brother with them, but when you simply end up with the dog tags in your hand you realise that there was no hope.

“No, no, no, no.” You push yourself backwards, your back coming into contact with the brick fireplace that had somehow survived the blast and you don’t take even a second to hide yourself inside of it curling up in a ball hoping that the ground would simply swallow you whole. “I’m sorry, matty, so so fucking sorry.”

/\/\/\/\

“Peter!” The shouting of his name quickly snaps you back to the reality of the situation, and you’re quick to jump into action.

You jump onto the bed as the flames lick the side of it covering the now very awake, and very panicked, Peter with your own body. You feel the flames dancing around you, your loss of control over your powers making it harder to control the flames themselves but you manage to push them away from you enough to have a few inches of moving room. .You’re quick to grab the blanket that Peter had pushed off in his panic, wrapping it over him and placing yourself down on top of him, your arms protecting his head as you fight off your own flames.

You close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths feeling the flames grow as you do but as the rage inside of you begins to calm the erratic movements of the flames calm as well. No longer are you trapped under a raging flash fire, but instead the flames move slowly in a rhythmic dance above you and Peter. Only then do you climb off of the boy moving to stand as far away as possible.

You close your eyes once more thinking back to the recent memory of Peter you had, replaying it in your mind over and over until you feel your rage replaced with something else. Something you can’t decipher just yet but when you feel the energy in the room around you go back to what is deemed normal you open your eyes.

There are no flames.

The cell is still intact.

Peter is still alive.

You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as the room spins, stars and blackness taking over your vision as your body crumples to the floor. The last thing you see as you struggle to fight your own body to stay awake after exuding so much energy is Peter running towards you followed by more than two other people.

“Hey sis, stay awake for me.” You feel yourself being consumed by the blackness, finally giving in to your bodies needs one last voice breaking through to you.

“Stay with me baby, stay with me.”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you

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traveler-at-heart · 10 months

Text

What we were - Chapter 4

Posting because I’m fed up with the discussion of should Nat be forgiven blah blah, that’s the way the story is, it’s not that deep 🥹 I’m deleting all chapters at the end of the week so I’m just posting for the people who were curious about how the story ends.

The Avengers assembled.

Steve and Bucky haven’t aged, but as you look around, you notice some wrinkles around Wanda’s eyes. Tony has gray hair and a disgruntled look on his face.

Sam is the only one enjoying himself, apparently.

“Cheer up” you say, standing in front of the group.

“Sorry, last time we were all together was to put someone six feet under” Tony mutters. “Yes, well... We have some news about that. Nat?”

The redhead stands next to you, looking at the projected images.

“Helios is an international terrorist organization led by French mercenary Soizic Paire. They have targeted some major cities in the Middle East and Africa. Quickly expanding to Europe and North America”

“Eleanor Bishop has been working with them to cover their operations, setting up fake companies that look like legit businesses”

“So you think Kate was just following her mother?” Wanda says.

“Yes, and Clint tagged along as backup. They didn’t know about Helios until they found Eleanor”

“The Avengers are retired, though” Steve points out. “I’m trying to figure out what we could do about this”

“I spoke to Secretary Renfield” you announce. Tony smirks. “We have clearance to take care of this”

“Who is we?” Tony asks you to clarify.

“Everyone in this room. You’re free to go. Or not. I just thought you’d like to know that we’re doing this. I know we all have lives now and families, so there’s nothing wrong with sitting this one out”

“Well, I’m going,” Bucky says.

“I’m going too,” Wanda nods. Steve and Sam step forward as well.

“Stark?”

“Do you have an ugly beard convention or something on your schedule?” you push him, annoyed.

“Damn, when did she get so mean?” Sam mutters to Natasha.

“I think it’s hot”

Tony snickers and shrugs his shoulders.

“Oh, what the hell. For old time’s sake. But you’re explaining this to Pepper” --

Steve is leading an intense training for everyone. It’s been a while since you spar and the pain in your leg only reminds you that you’re not a 20 something agent on the field.

Still, Natasha is patient and knows how to get you back in shape. Everyone shares a sense of urgency to get on with this. Maybe it’s because Helios could go into hiding if they suspect someone is after them. Part of it is also because you all want to go back to your lives.

Yelena is happy to stay over while you focus entirely on this mission. She’s given herself the title of “cool aunt to the rescue”.

“I’m exhausted” you complain when the first week of training ends.

“Steve was a little pushy today,” Natasha agrees. You’re back home, laying on the couch while Natasha massages your feet.

“Want to relax for a bit?”

“Do we have time?” she smiles and you nod, moving to straddle her lap. You kiss her slowly, her hands cupping your ass as you run yours through her hair.

“We brought pizza-aaaah” Yelena screams. “No, Anya, don’t look!”

“You should knock,” Natasha complains.

“There” Yelena punches the door and you grimace. Bucky just replaced it. “Сучка”

“Aww, aunt Yelena, you should have let me walk in on them. That way I could guilt them into buying me a new laptop”

“Maybe next time, sweetheart” you pat Anya’s shoulder. --

The second week of training is coming to an end, and you think the team might be ready to execute the mission in a couple of days.

You’re reviewing floor plans with Natasha when a video call from Maria comes in. “Director Hill”

“Agent Romanoff... and Romanoff. I have some intel that you’ll want to review. Helios is planning an attack at Oslo”

“This is the first time they target an European city” Natasha looks at you, concerned. “How long do we have, Maria?”

“I’d say a day at most”

You sigh.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., call everyone. We leave in an hour”

“Good luck, Avengers” Maria disconnects the call. You walk away, thinking about getting changed and prepare the Quinjet.

“Hold on” Natasha asks, pulling you back to the room.

“Nat, can’t this wait?”

“I need... I need to apologize. For everything. I never did”

“You’ll do it when the mission is over” you try to get away from the conversation but she insists.

“I can’t let you leave without telling you that I love you. That you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And that... thing with Carol didn’t mean anything. It was just a fucked up way to deal with grief. But it’s still not an excuse. I’m sorry for hurting you”

“Thank you”

“You know, after I moved out I started therapy. For real. And I’m working on everything. I don’t want our family to be apart anymore”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now all you have to do is promise me that you’re not going to risk your life on this mission. Anya needs you and so do I”

“Promise” she nods, resting her forehead against yours.

“Chop, chop” Tony walks in, clapping excitedly. “We got butts to kick”

As everyone gathers around, you look at the empty seat on the Quinjet. Clint loved flying this thing.

Then you remember the archery lessons he gave Anya, the Christmases at the farm with all the kids. Maybe, worrying about Natasha was also a way of not facing your own loss.

A look around the room tells you everyone is thinking about Clint.

“We’ll divide in three” you begin, projecting a scan of the location where Helios is hiding. It’s an abandoned mansion on the border between Norway and Russia. “Tony will disable the communication between the guards on the gates and the towers. Once that happens, Wanda and Sam will disarm them”

“Natasha, Steve, Bucky and I will access via an old tunnel. We’ll wait for you to finish with the outside group. Then, Steve and Natasha will go to retrieve intelligence and locate Soizic while Buck and I deal with the second group of guards”

“We’re not splitting up” Natasha complains.

“Yes, we are. You and Steve work great together. And with my leg, I’m gonna need backup”

Bucky smiles at Natasha but you nudge him.

“Not now, children. By the time Steve and Natasha find Soizic, we should all be able to meet there and deal with him. Questions?”

Tony raises his hand.

“Would anyone like some shawarma after? Or is this more of a pizza type of mission?” “Shawarma’s for alien invasions. This will be a piece of cake” Sam winks at you.

Piece of cake, my ass.

You’ve been here for 10 minutes and everything’s going to shit.

Bucky and you had to split up when a group of Helios’ soldiers found you. You’ve been fighting for fifteen minutes, and although you’ve managed to knock down ten of their people, there are still three guards. One of them is swinging a chain, so you duck and he hits his partner.

This time, he swings to the ground, thinking you’ll go low again. Instead, you throw a punch to the other soldier, and by the time the chain man lifts his arms, it hits the other man in the balls.

“Ouch”

You almost feel sorry for him.

With only chain man left, you prepare your last widow bite. He swings the chain, distracting you from his other hand, and he throws a knife that lands straight to your stomach.

Well, shit.

Ignoring the sting, you push through the pain and wait for his attack to grab one of the guns from his fallen mates. You throw the widow bite to distract him and when he thinks he has you, you shoot him three times.

Down.

“We have a problem” Tony announces over the comms.

“Join the club” you take the knife out, grunting.

“Y/N?” Natasha speaks.

“I’m fine” you lie. “Tony?”

“There’s a record of a device that can launch a missile to Oslo, remotely. And it’s traveling, almost at the edge of the property, isn’t that right, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark”

“Probably through the tunnel we came in. I’m the one closest to it. I’ll track it” you say. “Sending Red Wing to guide you” Sam announces.

As you run through the tunnel, the robot joins you, and stops next to a wall.

“Sam, you’re thing is broken” “That can’t be”

“Unless there’s a secret... door” you push the stone and sure enough, it gives in. You walk into a garage full of motorcycles, SUVs and sports cars. There’s a man loading up a small briefcase. You lock eyes and he raises his gun.

“Shit”

As you find cover, Red Wing shoots back.

“Guys, I found Soizic” you inform the team as he drives away. “He’s on a white BMW. I’m in pursuit” you instruct them, finding a motorcycle with the keys still attached.

“We cut their power, so he must be looking for a network to connect and launch the missile. You have to get to him before that” Tony instructs.

“No pressure, right?” you rev the engine, and a second later, the cold air hits you. It feels like tiny needles digging on the skin of your face and exposed knuckles.

Soizic is having trouble with the car, as the roads seem to be frozen. You increase the speed, knowing one wrong turn could be fatal.

“Can this thing knock down trees?” you ask Sam.

“Only once”

“Then make sure it gets it right. Block the road with a tree. That way I can intercept Soizic”

“Copy, Romanoff”

“Me?” Natasha jumps in.

“The other Romanoff” Sam clarifies. “Ten years and we still can’t come up with a system to avoid this”

Red Wing flies past you and Soizic. There’s a curve ahead, with a cliff on the other side. As the tree falls, he realizes there’s nowhere to go so he stops the car, swirling.

You are face to face with the man that killed Clint.

“He could still launch it from your position, Y/N. I’m working on blocking his signal”

“That looks bad” the mercenary points at the bleeding in your abdomen.

“You a doctor?”

“Just a killer. You want this? Is that why you’re here?” He pulls the briefcase close to him. “Are you done?” you make time, asking Tony.

“Not even a little” the man in front of you replies.

“I’m trying,” Tony says.

“We’re on our way as backup” Natasha announces.

It will be too late. You have to get to that briefcase now.

“Just like old times” you mutter, running towards the man. He throws a punch to your stab wound and you double in pain. Before he can make a run for the briefcase, you pull him by the shirt, and he falls to the ground. You bash his head against the car door.

This is your chance.

But the blood loss is making you dizzy.

Soizic laughs, still on the ground.

“You should have retired. Like your friend, Barton” “I’m going to kill you”

“That’s what he said”

Come on, move. Reach for it. Run.

Soizic sprints forward at the same time you do. Instead of racing him for the briefcase, you throw yourself at him. The man realizes a second too late what you’re doing, as you both fall over the cliff on the other side of the road.

The snow softens some of the blows, but you can still feel your ribs breaking and a shooting pain in your arm.

It feels like an eternity until you land, rolling to a frozen surface.

Come on. You can do it.

Detka

Is Nat here? You listen to her voice, she’s so close.

A cracking sound on your back wakes you up.

Natasha is on the comms, asking for your location.

“Down the cliff” you drag yourself, aware that the ice is breaking due to the force of your fall. You will not be able to swim like this.

She asks you something else, but you can’t focus on her words as you feel someone pulling you back.

Fuck, why won’t he die?

Soizic punches you, and you land on your back. His own face is covered in blood and the right arm is twisted in a weird angle.

With the left arm, he’s holding a knife. You stop him mid attack, each one struggling with one arm. The ice keeps cracking, so you begin to kick it. You’d rather risk your chances on the frozen water than let him stab you.

The surface finally gives in and you both fall.

Soizic lets go of the knife as he struggles to swim. Barely floating, you know this will only give you a second to get away.

“For f-fuck’s sake” you stutter as he peaks his head. Just when you think he’s going to drown you, an arrow goes through his head.

What?

You follow the direction of the shot. Natasha.

Smiling weakly, for a second you forget you’re on the brink of freezing to death. She looks at Bucky.

“Hurry up and bring her over”

“Ah, jeez” Bucky complains, diving.

A second later, Wanda lands next to Natasha and envelopes you with her magic, floating out of the water wrapped in red threads.

“Seriously, Romanoff?” Bucky barks, but sprints out of the lake and catches you in the air, carrying you over. “You’re bleeding”

“And freezing” Natasha moves some of the hair on your forehead. She feels so warm even though she’s probably cold as well.

“Let’s get you back to the Quinjet”

“Who taught you to shoot like that?” you ask Natasha. Sam is landing the Quinjet, Red Wing by his side.

“Clint,” she smiles. “They kept his bow and arrow stored away”

“Idiots” Bucky mutters and Natasha laughs. The corner of his mouth does a thing that kind of looks like a smile.

“Hey, the funniest thing happened, Miss Day asked about you” Natasha comments and his smile fades away.

“You told her” he accuses, looking at you. “I promise I didn’t”

“All the Romanoffs are a pain in my ass” “That we are”

“Knock knooock” Yelena calls softly, peeking around the hospital room.

“Now you knock” Natasha opens the door, hugging her daughter. You were rushed to the OR the minute the Quinjet landed and are waking up from the anesthesia, a dopey look in your eyes.

“How are you feeling, seestra?” Yelena approaches the side of the bed. “These drugs are top notch, Yel”

“I can see that. Anya’s here, though, so we might not call drugs a good thing”

“Pfff, it’s fine. Come here, sweetheart” you wave and Anya kisses your cheek. She’s never seen you like this, mainly because you retired from missions when she was six. “Your mom killed a bad guy, it was so cool”

“Hey, we’ll be right back, Anya” Yelena says, dragging Natasha out of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha says.

“So, are you done? Can you move on with your life now?” Yelena scolds her. This is the first time in months that both sisters are alone. “Because you were pretty determined to screw up everything and you wouldn’t let us help, Natalia”

“I’m done. It won’t happen again”

“No, it won’t. Because next time I’m gonna kick your ass. And don’t forget how lucky you are because Y/N forgave everything”

“You knew about...?”

“Barnes told me. We made a group chat to call you mean names” Yelena shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s not a group chat if it’s only the two of you” Natasha grumbles.

“Whatever” the blonde waves, coming back inside.

Your eyes are closed, but you’re still talking, half asleep.

“The first night your Mom and I spent together, I thought she got me pregnant. That’s how good it was, Anya”

The redhead turns around and looks at Natasha with a smile.

“I’m so getting a new laptop now”

“Not so fast, we still have to tell them about the cat” Yelena scratches her neck.

“You adopted a cat?” Natasha yells whispers as you go back to sleep.

“Momma, she is so cute. She’s a black cat and Aunt Yelena named her Liho. Please, we have to keep her”

“A cat would be nice” you mumble, and then start to snore. Natasha can’t help but smile. “It would be nice”, she agrees.

Six months later

Flowers are blooming.

Time keeps passing.

There are days where grief takes over. Healing isn’t linear. But you’re getting there. Natasha looks happy, helping Laura set everything up for the barbecue.

It might seem strange to throw a party instead of a service after a year of Clint’s death. But Laura thought it would be better. To have all of their friends. It was his favorite thing to do once spring came in full swing.

“Hey” Bucky sits down next to you and you move over to make space on the bench. “Fancy meeting you here. Miss Day keeping you busy?”

“Yeah” he blushes, peeling the label off his beer bottle. “I’m meeting Melissa’s parents next week”

“Wow, I’m impressed”

“How’s the leg?” he changes the subject, nodding towards the scar on your thigh.

“Better than ever. What? Jealous you’re not the only one with vibranium in their body?”

“I’ll ask them to attach a machine gun to my arm and that will show you”

“Melissa’s parents will be delighted”

“So is that why you’ve been picking me up from school so much lately?” Anya appears behind you.

“Stop sneaking around” you both say at the same time.

“Hey, come on now” Natasha steps up, hugging Anya. You realize your daughter is getting taller. “She’s a natural”

“Wait until she starts sneaking around to go to parties and see if that’s still fun” you comment and Bucky chuckles.

“Your wife is right”

“She always is” Natasha agrees and you smile.

“Ugh, I’m gonna be sick” Anya walks away and Bucky is quick to follow. “I’ll race you to the house” he says, knowing she’ll never catch up.

“You ok?” you say, as Natasha sits by your side. Part of you has been dreading this day. Even if Natasha has been better and present in your lives, it’s still hard for her to deal with the absence of Clint.

It’s simply not something you get over in a day.

“I miss him” she admits in a shaky voice. You’re happy she’s honest with you.

“I miss him too”

“He’d kick my ass if he could. For all the mistakes I made. The pain I caused you”

“Yeah, he would. And then he’d ask you to make it right and appreciate what you have. And you’ve done that ”

“I love you” she rests her head against your shoulder and you kiss her temple.

“I love you too”

It wasn’t perfect, the life you had. But there was love. And that would be enough

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