#tony was a selfish bastard all the way to the end

[rainbowsuitcase]

Sure, Tony Stark is a hero and entertaining and I enjoy him well enough, but his motivations more often than not boil down to being self centered and selfish (and the movies don't highlight that nearly enough, which naturally makes me care more than I actually do)

#examples yay #cw and the accords #my man just wants to erase his own guilt #start of endgame #my man was perfectly fine with his new perfect family and leaving the world as is #and finally decided to help cuz he was feeling guilty over peter's death #tony was a selfish bastard all the way to the end #wherein the last thing he ever did was finally completely altruistic #and then there's the bunch of small stuff #how many people can i piss of with one post #anti tony stark #i do actually like tony tho i promise #prove me wrong and i'll delete this but

[hottpinkpenguin]

owo bucky barnes self sacrifice 🥺?

A/N: anon, thanks for your patience!!! this is a heart wrencher, fair warning. Bucky is the perfect person for a self-sacrifice fic <3 <3

For You - Bucky Barnes X GN!Reader

Warnings: angst, angst, angst, and more angst; character death; Avengers End Game non-canon; Avengers End Game spoilers Word Count: 2179

“In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. A soul for a soul.”

As soon as the Stonekeeper’s words met your ears, your eyes snapped up to Bucky’s. 

No. 

The word tore through you like a bolt of lightning. You saw it in his eyes: that stubborn, noble, horrifically devoted part of him that was always looking for a reason - an excuse, really - to sacrifice himself for the people he loved. For you. 

“Bucky, god damnit, no!” You flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He was warm against you as he enveloped you in his arms, burying his face in your neck. He placed a kiss there, soft and apologetic, to the skin just beneath your jaw. You could feel the goodbye in that kiss.

“Don’t you do it. Don’t you fucking do it!” you raged, balling your hands into fists as you made yourself a dead weight against him. Hot tears sprang into your eyes. 

“Y/N, there’s no way to-”

“I don’t care, I don’t care! We’ll figure it out, we always do! Tony will figure it out, Bucky, just please don’t do this, don’t you dare leave me!” Sobs tore loose from your chest as you felt him try to pull out of your embrace. Years you’d been waiting for him, literal years, and this selfish bastard was going to end it all in a blaze of glory, dying for his love. But where did that leave you? Alone and doomed to a life without him. You’d been through this once already, when Tony Stark had learned about Bucky’s role in his parents’ death and practically torn the world apart to get to him. You’d seen flashes of your future without Bucky in it, and you couldn’t bear it. You wouldn’t. 

“Y/N, I have to. You know I do.” His voice was gentle, calm, as if he were explaining something to a child. The finality in his voice made you even angrier. You clung to him harder, body shaking now. He’d stopped trying to pry you off of him, but you knew he wasn’t relenting. 

Sensing him stonewalling in his decision, you turned your rage to the Stonekeeper. He hovered above the ground a few feet from the two of you, his unnatural crimson skin 

framing a bland expression. The emptiness in his eyes as he watched your life literally crumbling around you made your blood boil.

“There must be another way,” you growled through gritted teeth. You wanted to kill him, to shred him to ribbons and let the Soul Stone take his existence as payment for its price. 

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, he shook his head impassively. “The Soul Stone wants a sacrifice of love, not one of convenience.” 

You whimpered pitifully as you hid your face in Bucky’s shoulder as if you could hide from the truth in those words. You knew, somehow, that he was right. Killing him - if he could even be killed - wouldn’t be enough of what the Stone demanded. There was only one thing you loved in this world, and only one thing the Stone would accept.

“It’ll be alright, y/n,” Bucky whispered into your ear as you sobbed against him. 

“No, it won’t be. But you won’t be here to care, will you? You’ll be gone, and I’ll be left. I can’t lose you… I won’t…” 

Your voice trailed off suddenly in a moment of clarity. 

There was another option. 

You hadn’t considered it before, but it all made sense. 

Bucky must have heard the realization in your voice, because in the next instant he tensed against you. Thankfully, your reflexes were faster, thanks to your grueling training in the Red Room. You grabbed the back of Bucky’s jacket and threw him away from you with all your strength. You weren’t able to put as much space between the two of you as you wanted, but it was enough. It would have to be.

With as much force as you could summon, you turned away from him and the impassive Stonekeeper and sprinted towards the edge of the cliff behind you. The strange landscape of Vormir stretched out before you, the perpetual twilight purple and pink tint in the sky illuminating an endless landscape of sand dunes peppered with marshes. It was beautiful, you realized with a hint of bittersweet sadness as you closed the distance to the edge of the cliff.

Time slowed, and you let your eyelids flutter closed as you took the last step towards the edge of the cliff, the sound of air rushing past your ears engulfing you. Just before you felt yourself fall into the empty air, your body jerked backwards as something hard and cold dug into your shoulder. Your legs snapped out from under you like a ragdoll as the momentum of your sprint clashed with the force of the backward pull from your shoulder.

You saw him rush past you in the corner of your eye. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, his face serene as he took your place and launched over the cliff. Your body launched backwards from where he’d grabbed your shoulder with his vibranium arm, the edge of the cliff receding away from you. 

In the moment before he fell below your sight line, Bucky turned back to you, his gaze meeting yours. All the moments you two had shared since you’d met almost four years ago flickered between you in the space of a heartbeat. The memory of when you’d first seen him, your first kiss, countless sunrises waking up tangled together, the feeling of his heartbeat against your cheek, the pointless arguments and the painfully beautifully make-up’s - they all exploded in your mind like a barrage of fireworks. 

You reached your arms out towards him, an involuntary shriek of grief splitting the unnatural calm of Vormir as you cried out his name. 

He smiled at you - soft, sweet, and happy - before his body fell below the edge of the cliff. 

Your back collided with the wall of rock, a bolt of pain ripping through your right rib cage as your heart collapsed on itself in your chest. You crumpled where you lay, the weight of your loss pressing the wind out of your lungs. Bucky would never let you have your damn moment. He’d never let you fight without his watchful eye - even though you’d been part of the Avengers long before him. He’d never let you turn the full force of your hatred for yourself loose. He’d always been there to make sure it was his body and spirit that got broken, not yours. He’d held you together when you’d been determined to tear yourself apart. And even in his last moments, he’d always put you first. Above himself, above everything. You knew he hadn’t really sacrificed himself for the team, or for the half of the galaxy that had been lost when Thanos snapped. He’d done it for you. It was always for you, all for you. 

* * * * *

You couldn’t remember leaving the top of that godforsaken mountain, but when your eyelids lifted open, you found yourself flat on your back, floating in a still pool of cold water. The vault of Vormir’s sky above you was painted with vivid streaks of grapefruit pink against an indigo backdrop. The colors were more vibrant, somehow, and you had the distinct impression that this strange planet was grieving Bucky’s loss just as you were. 

As you sat up amidst the silence, you felt something small and heavy in your palm. You didn’t need to look down to know what it was. Your heart knew the cost of the Soul Stone too intimately to question whether Bucky’s sacrifice had worked. 

You felt years of training struggle to anesthetize yourself against the hollow, broken grief that was pulsing inside you. Giving yourself over to that blank numbness, you pressed the initiator on the Time-Space GPS bracelet Tony had given you. The gut-wrenching sensation of quantum travel blurred your vision as you let your mind submerge into grief…

* * * * *

“Where is he? Where’s Bucky?” Steve Rogers crouched down above you as you struggled not to vomit on the deck of Tony Stark’s shiny, chrome Quantum Tunnel. 

Unable to make yourself speak, you stretched out your hand, the apricot-colored Soul Stone glinting merrily against the white of your advanced tech suit. 

“Take it,” you cried hoarsely to Steve, his eyes roaming over your face and the Soul Stone as confusion turned to understanding. “Take it, Steve.”

Sensing your desperation, it was Bruce Banner who snatched the accursed stone of your palm. A deadly quiet descended over the room as your friends waited for you to confirm what they were all beginning to piece together. Only the sound of your strangled sobs pierced the quiet; you hadn’t even realized you were still crying. 

“No… no, it can’t be… it’s all wrong. Tony? TONY!” 

Steve’s grief was the first to surface. It was raw and angry, like yours had been. Of all the Avengers, you knew that Steve would be the one to grieve Bucky alongside you. Although you should have felt comforted by the knowledge that you weren’t alone, feeling the heat of his emotions so close to your own made you inexplicably angry. 

“It’s not wrong, Steve,” you replied back, your voice cold and hard as iron. Steve and Tony froze mid-argument, their eyes glued on you, sensing how close you were to snapping. 

“Bucky’s dead.” Your voice splintered as you forced the words out. “He’s dead. It’s done.” A memory of Bucky’s calm, loving smile danced across your field of vision unwillingly. Oddly enough, the memory felt like aloe on a burn. It tamped down the red-hot edges of your grief. 

His words floated back to you, the last words he’d said to you: it’ll be alright. 

No, it won’t, you yelled back at his memory in your mind. It won’t be alright. But I’ll keep going. If only because I know your stubborn ass would hate me if I didn’t. 

You’d never been a religious person and you’d certainly never put any stock in the idea of an afterlife. That is, not until you’d lost Bucky. There was no way you could imagine a soul like his blinking out of existence. He burned too brightly, loved too hard. The force of love like that didn’t get extinguished with the death of a body. 

As if in confirmation, from somewhere far outside yourself - or from deep within your core, you couldn’t be sure - a feeling stretched out towards you. It was like a caress, a shadow of a memory, and it ran along the length of your mind the way a shiver runs up a spine. It was Bucky. You knew it in the same way you’d known since arriving on Vormir that one of you wouldn’t be coming home. It was the kind of knowledge that lives deep in your bones, an understanding so deep and powerful that it’s beyond words. 

Against yourself, you smiled. Tears spilled over your lash line as your eyes crinkled. The sweetness of that caress lingered like an aftertaste before it faded, gently, into the space where it’d come from. Even when it was gone, you knew it was still there, somewhere, even if you couldn’t see it.

The moment faded and your attention slowly settled back to the moment, to the room full of your friends around you. One of your loves was dead, you realized, but gathered around you were the rest. Your friends. Your family. 

“Bucky’s dead,” you repeated, standing this time. The grief in your chest wasn’t burning as hot, but the weight still pulled on you. Like a parent comforting a crying child, you held your grief tenderly as you fixed your gaze on your friends one by one. Steve, Tony, Bruce, Scott, Natalie. 

“But he’s not gone.”

From that same space where Bucky’s caress had flourished, you felt a twinge of pride. You could picture him, smiling at you with that dreamy, I-never-knew-I-could-be-this-happy mist in his eyes. You did good, kid, he’d say, because he knew you hated it when he called you that. 

For you, you replied back, tossing your words towards that feeling of pride. It’s all for you now, you assured him. You wouldn’t let me live for you when you were alive, but you can’t stop me now that you’re dead. 

A laugh vibrated in the space where Bucky’s memory hung in your mind. You could picture his laugh, the one that made him throw his head back and his brown eyes sparkle. 

And I won’t try, he reassured you. 

You let your soul smile back at him. From the corner of your eye, you saw the Soul Stone glimmer like starlight from where Bruce had set it down. 

I’ll be waiting, Bucky’s memory said as it receded once again into darkness.

You nodded, physically this time, not caring if your friends thought you were mad. 

I know.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #bucky barnes winter soldier #avengers end game #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier angst

[holylulusworld]

Your daddy’s enemy (1) - Angry Girl

Title: Your daddy’s enemy (1) - Angry Girl

Square filled for @tonystarkbingo​: S2 - “How dare you?“

Summary: He’s your father’s worst enemy. But he does it so well…

Pairing: Mobster!Tony Stark x fem!Reader (his enemy’s daughter)

Warnings: angst, language, enemies to lovers trope, arranged marriage, bets, tension, cocky Tony

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Your daddy’s enemy masterlist

2022 Tony Stark Bingo masterlist

“He’s not that bad,” your friend whispers in your ear. You sip at the champagne, scrunching up your nose as she eyes the notorious lady-killer Anthony Stark. Cocky bastard. A feared mafia boss. Your father’s former worst enemy. “I bet he can fuck you really good.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quip. “He’s only too old for you, a selfish prick and my father’s sworn enemy. And I bet, he can’t even get it up.”

“If he can’t get it up,” Charlene shrugs, “he can buy me diamonds to make up for the lack of sex. Y/N, an erection isn’t all a girl dreams about. A cock brings you orgasms, but diamonds are still a girl’s best friend.”

“Well, I prefer an erection,” she chuckles at your words. “I can always ask daddy to buy me diamonds if I want some new jewelry. A good dick is a good dick. There is nothing better than a man being able to make my sweet pussy sing.”

While you giggle and laugh, Tony moves closer and closer to listen to your conversation. He sips at his drinks, all the while undressing you with his eyes.

You don’t know there is a reason for the armistice between your father’s organization and Tony’s.

He smirks darkly as you turn around to bend a little to put more of the delicious food he ordered on your plate.

“Nice ass,” he purrs more to himself than anyone in the room. “All the things I want to do with this little brat. I’ll enjoy taming her.”

“Careful, Stark,” your father warns. “She may look like a behaved lady, but my daughter has teeth and claws she would enjoy ramming in your flesh. If you don’t do this right, she will fight you with all she’s got.”

“In other words, she will give me a run for my money,” Tony chuckles. “I knew she’s the one. I’ll make this little brat you call your daughter my queen. Oh, how I will enjoy watching her bounce on my…”

“One more word about my daughter and the things you want to do in the bedroom with her and you end up six feet under. If she doesn’t want you, this won’t happen.”

“She will love me…”

“Sure,” what Tony doesn’t know is that you always had a thing for elder men. You don’t care his almost fifteen years elder than you. What bugs you is that he’s a douche, a cocky billionaire, and someone not respecting women in your opinion. “You will catch hell soon enough.”

“Fifty on Y/N,” Bucky snickers as Tony makes his way toward you and Charlene.

“Hundred on Tony,” Steve whips his head toward Bucky. “I bet he will have her in not an hour.”

“Hundred-and-fifty on Y/N punching his nose and breaking his jaw,” Natasha slams the money into Steve’s hand. “She will not let his cock get near her.”

“It’s the way we make business,” shrugging Clint watches Tony prepare himself for his move. “We make a deal and seal it with a wedding, blood, and lots of fucking…”

“Yeah, in your case it was your cousin,” the redhead flashes Clint a dirty grin. “We all know you married your second cousin…”

“Anyways, back to the bet. I’ll raise you to two hundred on Tony having her mewl his name under half an hour, including creaming her pussy and making her moan his name,” everyone snaps their heads toward Tony who cockily stands in front of the group of people. “If she begs me for my cock, you’ll triple my win.”

“You can’t bet on your cocky ass,” Bucky complains. “That’s against the rules.”

“I make the rules here,” placing two-hundred bucks in Steve’s hands Tony huffs. “I got cameras in all of my room. You’ll get a good show, lady, gentlemen. If you’d excuse me now. I got a brat to tame…”

“Hello darling,” you roll your eyes as Tony Stark just followed you inside his office. “What do we have here? A little bird looking for trouble?”

“I was looking for the toilette,” Tony knows you are lying, but decides to play along. “Can you help me out, Mr. Stark?”

“Well, this is my office, kitten,” he locks the door, taking the chance to escape him away from you. “What are you looking for here? My business plans. Booze? Condoms?”

“I need to pee,” you huff as Tony strolls toward you to look you up and down. He takes his time to drink your outfit in. “What are you doing?”

“How about I make you squirt?” the cocky mobster smirks as you visibly shudder the moment he runs his fingertips over your exposed arms. “I can help you with that.”

“No. Thanks,” you lick your lips. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and it makes you feel dizzy as his closeness shouldn’t turn you on. “You’re the enemy.”

“Was,” he corrects. “Your daddy and I came to an agreement. We need peace and to join forces against a much stronger opponent. In return for my money and guns, I get something really sweet and precious.” His eyes drop to your lips, and you fear your father brought you to Tony’s party for more than the food and free drinks. “Don’t you want to be a good girl?”

“Fuck. This won’t be happening,” you grunt. Your soaked panties would like to disagree, but that’s a different story. “Old men just don’t turn me on.”

“Darling,” he cups the back of your neck to force you to look up at him, “we both know guys your age won’t do it for you, Y/N.”

“OH, but you believe you can do me better?” Tony chuckles darkly. He knows all too well that you are not into younger men. You need someone to tame the brat in you and give you the feeling he’ll keep you safe at the same time. You want someone helping you with your daddy issues - or make them worse. “Self-confidence looks good on you, Mr. Stark.”

“You on top of me would look even better on me,” damn that man, he makes your knees buckle. “How about we lead this somewhere more private? I got this nice bedroom waiting for you…”

“How dare you?” slapping his face harshly you glare at the cocky mobster. “I’m not one of your flings. I have standards. If you want to be more than a bad taste in my mouth…act like a gentleman…”

"Bad Girl," he breathes in your face. "This screams for punishment..."

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#tonystarkbingo #tony stark #tony x reader #tony stark x you #mobster!tony stark #mobster!tony #mobster!tony stark x reader #mobster!tony x reader #tony stark x reader #Your daddy’s enemy #tw: daddy kink #mafia au

[rysko]

I want more of your based takes to giggle at so for the fandom ask, Marvel please

My narcissistic ass loves the opportunity to talk about my faves Red, enjoy

This will be an amalgamation of all the 'verses', im not only sticking to the mcu.

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

Miles Morales! Ever since the first Spiderverse came out i loved him. I genuinely relate(d) to him a lot, and his story and struggles resonated with me a ton. I don't like saying any fictional character 'helped' me, but he really really did.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

Mobius.

Listen, i have my own beef with the Loki show (beef, as in, I wanna hunt whoever came up with that idea for sport) but Mobius is like the light at the end of the tunnel, like the tasty chocolate with some shitty toy inside. ITS OWEN WILSON PLAYING A NERVOUS, CUNTY, NERDY AGENT

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

Ultron.

An awakened AI? Who visits the internet for 5 minutes and decides its time to genocide humanity? Slay. He was also like, really sassy and snarky and you already know i'm a sucker for these kinds of characters,

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

MARTIN LI MARTIN LI MARTIN LI AKA MR NEGATIVE

I WILL NOT SHUT UP ABOUT THIS MAN. I LOVE HIM. I HAVE CONSUMED E V E R Y PIECE OF MEDIA HE'S IN AND I AM STARVING. For all the lore i memorised for him i might as well be hired by marvel to think about this guy

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

I think we all know who this is gonna be.

My boy, my beloved npd having smartass (its canon because i say so), Tony.

I always was and will be Team Iron Man, RDJ is an icon that played him flawlessly. My man does not deserve the bashing he gets in the fandom nowadays.

Yes, he's selfish, narcissistic, cocky and a privileged ass, but all of it is a win in my book. If people don't like that, GOOD, more for ME.

If it wasn't Tony, then my problematic fave would probably be Redskull.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

Loki. There's a reason my favorite scenes with the guy are:

"I HAVE BEEN FALLING FOR THIRTY MINUTES"

Him getting thrown by his brother in Ragnarok

He's pathetic, he's a loser

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell):

Doctor Strange, any iteration of him, be it comics, cartoons or Britishface Cucumberstache. I love him sm, but in a "puts you in a jar and shakes it violently" way. I'd send him there to see what tomfoolery he'd get up to.

i think what these asks do, is show that I'm a sucker for the cocky bastards with flamboyant tendencies

#ask #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel sony #rys-talks

[riotwritesthings]

I'll cave in (whenever you see fit)

A BIG BIG HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!! to @warmachinesocks​

thanks for being you that’s big sexie of you. Here’s a thing.

Winteriron, M, 5k - Vampire!Bucky, human!Tony, an abduction, a rescue, and some dry humping

Bucky knows better than to get involved with a mortal, and he pays the price when Hydra kidnaps his boyfriend. Tony is human, he's questionably in distress, and he is Handling It. (minor violence, surprisingly soft all things considered.)

~~~

Bucky should have known this would happen. Fuck, he should have known.

An immortal should never get involved with a human, that’s rule fucking one because it never ends well for anyone.

Especially not for the human.

But he’s selfish, so fucking selfish, and the first time Tony smiled up at him, open and happy, Bucky knew he was doomed.

He knows something is wrong the second pushes the door open to find the basement apartment completely dark. The only light is the weak streetlight pouring in through the one tiny window, near the ceiling in the kitchen.

Even in the dark, Bucky can easily tell that the place has been trashed, though it is only a subtle difference from the organized chaos Tony usually keeps his workspace in.

The apartment is too quiet, too still, and he knows instantly.

Bucky fucked up. Badly.

Because it had been entirely too easy to get used to the warmth of Tony’s smile, of his skin, the way he so easily made a space for Bucky in his life.

It had been so easy to let himself get comfortable in Tony’s weird basement apartment that’s half home and half machine shop, perfectly Tony. The way the apartment is brightly lit with industrial lights at all hours of the day and night so Tony can see whatever brilliant new invention he’s working on next.

Bucky never had a chance at not getting attached, because in all his years he’s never met anyone like Tony.

Tony is perfect, and brilliant, left with nothing after his father's company was stolen out from under him and Tony just built himself a new life, tries to help wherever he can. He keeps erratic hours and never minds that Bucky comes and goes at all hours of the night, that Bucky can't go out in the daylight.

Bucky hasn’t been in the sun in nearly a thousand years, but with Tony in his arms, so warm and bright and alive, he could almost remember what it felt like.

And now Tony has been taken.

Bucky knew who was responsible even before he found the symbol burned into the wall. It’s Hydra. Of course it is, and those bastards won’t care that he’s human, that he never should have been involved in any of this, all they’ll care about is hurting Bucky as much as they can.

And they picked exactly the right target.

Hydra has been after him for nearly as long as Bucky has been not-alive, determined to wipe out all vampires at any cost. Even once the war was over, even after all the other hunter���s guilds signed the peace treaty, Hydra refused to give up their mission and for some reason they’ve taken a personal vendetta against Bucky. Probably because he’s evaded them so many times.

And now they have Tony.

The thing is that Bucky hasn't really known Tony that long, not even by human standards, but he is completely, irretrievably in love. He’s ready to burn the whole world down to get Tony back, even if Tony never forgives him for it.

But he’s not going to be able to find where Tony is being held, not on his own. Not in time.

The downside to immortal friends though, is that Bucky hasn’t actually seen any of them in years, because what’s a couple decades between centuries old beings? Steve is back in Europe for a while, working on his painting, and Bucky hasn’t seen Natalia in nearly fifty years now, which means she probably won’t turn back up for another fifty.

There is one more option, Bucky is just less than thrilled about it.

It’s no secret that the other hunter’s guilds don’t approve of Hydra’s methods, the amount of collateral damage they leave in their wake. The lengths they’re willing to go to.

Like kidnapping innocent humans.

It’s definitely still a stretch to hope they’ll be willing to help someone like Bucky find Hydra, but he has to try.

And he does have one idea of where to start.

Bucky and Sam don’t like each other very much, and that’s been the standing opinion for the last decade. Which for a hunter and vampire, is basically a lifelong friendship.

It’s at least enough that Bucky can show up at Sam’s door without immediately getting himself staked.

The door flies open and Bucky blinks, because it never fails to surprise him how old Sam has gotten. Every time, Bucky is a little bit expecting Sam-as-he-met-him, still a kid, on his first hunt and clearly terrified but so determined to save the world, so idealistic. And now he’s so jaded, older and tired and it’s just one more reminder of just how badly Bucky has fucked up.

Tony is going to go cold and tired and it will be all Bucky’s fault.

“You’re here about Hydra,” Sam says flatly, no preamble, and at least that answers Bucky’s question about whether or not Sam even knows that Hydra is setting up camp in his territory.

"Tell me where they are," Bucky demands, resisting the urge to flash his fangs just yet because he's not here to threaten answers out of anyone. Not unless he has to.

Although he doesn't find it encouraging that Sam doesn't answer, just clenches his jaw and swings the door open a little wider, letting Bucky see that the extra heartbeat he hears belongs to Clint. Standing in the hallway with a crossbow in hand.

Bucky lets his lip curl up a little, because apparently this is going to be that kind of conversation.

“What do they have against you, anyways?" Clint asks conversationally, like he's not holding a loaded weapon with an expression that says he'd really like to use it. "Seems very personal at this point."

“What, you want the entire list?” Bucky snaps and finds that he is more than willing to give the whole sordid story if that's what it takes.

But he doesn't have the time for that, Tony doesn't have the time.

Instead he grits his teeth and demands “Tell me where they would take a human hostage."

It has the desired effect, both of the hunters tense and Clint’s eyes go wide, and maybe now they’ll realize that this isn’t about him.

The only thing that matters is Tony, and Bucky doesn’t even care that he’s not just admitting to that weakness, he’s basically screaming it from the rooftops by telling them. Doesn’t care that Sam’s eyes narrow in painful understanding.

“We can’t tell you that,” Sam says and he really does sound regretful, but Bucky snarls because that is not what he wants to hear. “Even if we don’t agree with what they’ve done, they’re still—“

“If you don’t tell me, I will kill you,” Bucky interrupts, his voice low and harsh and it’s gratifying to hear the spike in heart rates, it means he still has a chance of convincing them, whether by threat or force.

“Barnes—“ Sam tries to interrupt, but Bucky doesn’t have time for this.

“And then I’ll find out where he is anyways,” Bucky promises, “the only thing you’ll accomplish is slowing me down.”

“You wouldn’t,” Clint says, but he doesn’t sound sure and his grip on the crossbow is white-knuckled, “you’ll start a war you can never come back from.”

“Try me,” Bucky hisses, flashes his teeth and lets his eyes flare. He wants them to know how deadly serious he is.

Clint raises his crossbow, but Sam sighs.

“In the old warehouse district,” Sam says, shoulders tight with anger and fear, “on the far west edge of the city.”

“You’ll regret this,” Clint calls after him as he stalks away, but Bucky knows that he won’t.

Not if he can just get to Tony in time. Nothing matters beyond making sure his selfishness doesn’t get Tony killed. He doesn’t care what it costs, Bucky is more than willing to leave everything and go on the run again, all he cares about is making sure Tony is alive to hate him.

Sam’s information is good, so at least Bucky won’t have to go back when he’s done here.

He’s been dealing with Hydra for centuries now, and Bucky can easily identify the abandoned factory as a Hydra base. It’s the new bars over the windows, the reinforced doors, the impression of movement just below the surface of the dilapidated building.

He only has a couple hours before the sun comes up, and then he’ll be trapped in the building with who knows how many Hydra hunters. He has to find Tony and get out as quickly as possible.

He has to make sure that at least gets Tony out.

Hydra are still setting up their bases more or less the same way they always have, the same holes in security, and getting into the building is easy. Finding the makeshift holding cells is even easier, on the south-most side of the building, but the problem is that all of the cells are empty.

The entire wing of the factory seems to be empty and there’s fresh blood splattered across the walls and the floor, still wet and shining in the fluorescent lights.

The building is too filled with the smell of mold and decay for him to tell whose blood it is, for him to have a hope of picking out the familiar sweet tang that means Tony.

He can hear the sounds of commotion in the distance, what sounds like screams and gunshots further into the factory. It’s the same direction the trail of spilled blood is leading, and Bucky grits his teeth as he follows it.

The base is nearly deserted. Bucky only sees a couple hunters as he follows the sounds of the fight. Everyone he runs into is scrambling for weapons or the exits, and they don’t seem to be expecting him at all. They seem like they’re afraid of something else entirely, like they’re trying to escape.

Bucky doesn’t let them.

They took Tony, and he doesn’t even want to let himself imagine what they’ve done to him. On the slim chance he manages to get Tony out of here, Bucky can’t have any of them going after him again.

He has to make sure they never even think about going after Tony again.

The sounds of screams get louder as he moves into the heart of the warehouse, up the stairs to the offices. The blood is thicker here, splattered across the walls and the floors with evidence of a struggle. Smeared like someone has been dragged down the long hallway kicking and fighting.

With every empty room and bloody handprint he passes his rage grows, and by the time Bucky reaches the last door all he can see is red.

He slams in the door so hard that it splinters apart, chunks of cheap plywood flying everywhere. There’s a smell in the air like acrid smoke, like melting electronics and fire and blood, nearly overwhelming.

Bodies litter the room, dead and dying, but all he sees is Tony.

Bucky has spent the last four hours trying not to let himself imagine all sorts of horrible things. Tony hurt, Tony dead, bleeding, tortured, screaming. Rightfully cursing Bucky for getting him into this mess, rightfully wishing they'd never met.

He’s not prepared for what he actually finds.

Tony is alive, bloodied and bruised but so vibrantly alive, a knife in his hand and a vicious smile on his face as he plunges it into the chest of a Hydra hunter.

Bucky freezes uselessly in the doorway, watching in awe as Tony rips the knife free again, paying no mind to the spray of blood as he spins on his heel. Buries his blade in the gut of someone trying to creep up behind him.

And all at once it’s over.

The room goes still as the last hunter falls with Tony’s knife in his neck, Tony’s knees against his chest baring him down to the ground.

Bucky doesn’t even need to breathe, but still he finds himself choking on air as he watches Tony slowly right himself again, looking over all the destruction he’s caused.

Then Tony looks up, catches sight of him, and the expression on his face shifts from cold and vicious to warm and happy in an instant. Bucky’s cold dead heart lurches in his chest.

“Hey sweetheart, about time you got here,” Tony says, tossing him a jaunty wave with the knife still in hand.

Bucky crosses the room almost in a daze, headless of the blood that slicks the floor and the bodies he has to step over. All he can see is Tony and as soon as he’s close enough he traces his fingers reverently along the line of Tony’s jaw, ghosting over the dark bruise starting to form.

“Are you okay?” Tony asks, nonsensically, leaning into Bucky’s hands on him like Bucky isn’t the most dangerous thing in the room.

And hell maybe he’s not, Bucky certainly doesn’t feel dangerous. Not faced with Tony’s bright eyes and warm skin.

He feels weak, feels completely undone.

Bucky laughs, soft and strangled, and he hasn’t been cold in centuries but his hands are shaking as he cups Tony’s face in his palms.

“No,” he chokes out around another laugh, because he’s not okay, not anywhere close. “I thought- I didn’t know if you were- Tony--”

“Hey, hey,” Tony cuts him off, pulling him in closer and tucking Bucky’s face down into the curve of his neck. Where Bucky can hear the rapid thump of his heart, smell the adrenaline and the sweat that clings to his skin beneath all the blood.

And oh god there’s so much blood, covering Tony’s skin and his clothes and the room around them. Bucky can barely smell Tony through it and he tucks his face a little harder into the hollow of Tony’s throat.

“I’m okay,” Tony promises, fingers of one hand pressing into Bucky’s hair, his other hand resting on Bucky’s side and still wrapped tightly around the knife. Still prepared, and Bucky has never loved him more.

He drags his tongue up the line of Tony’s neck, through smears and splatters of blood. It’s almost a disappointment, definitely a thrill, that none of it is Tony’s.

“What did you- how did you even-“ Bucky keeps interrupting himself, can’t get a full thought out. He’s too concerned with lifting his head and pressing his lips to every inch of Tony’s perfect, unharmed face.

“I keep telling you, I’m a bad bitch,” Tony says, that beautiful smug grin on his face and Bucky just has to taste it.

Tony melts into it so easily when Bucky kisses him, his hands demanding but so gentle, like the room around them isn’t full of carnage. Like Tony isn’t the one who put it there, like he doesn’t have a care in the world except letting Bucky lick into his mouth, taste the adrenaline and determination and life straight from his lips.

Bucky has never tasted anything like it, has never met anyone like Tony, and he could have lost this.

He has to get closer, closer. He doesn’t even realize he’s backing Tony across the room until the back of Tony’s thighs hit a metal table, and Bucky just keeps pushing. Until the table clangs against the wall, until Tony is bent backwards over the surface.

Bucky follows him down, breathing him in, pressing between Tony’s thighs and still trying to get closer.

The table clatters, covered in knives and crossbows and stakes and Bucky doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. It doesn’t matter how much noise he makes now, Tony is the only living person in the warehouse, the only heartbeat on this rundown block. The only thing Bucky needs to worry about.

He certainly doesn’t give a fuck about the bodies that still litter the floor except that none of them are Tony, thatTony put them there.

Bucky doesn’t care about the bridges he’s burned, has never cared less about the impending sunrise. All that matters is Tony.

And Tony isn’t pushing him away, isn’t complaining. He just hooks one leg over Bucky’s hip and arches up against him, finally dropping his knife to drag both palms up Bucky’s back, pulling him in closer.

Tony is so warm beneath him, wrapped around him, always pulling Bucky in when he should be pushing him away.

“Fuck,” Tony sighs against his lips, one hand in Bucky’s hair again. Tony’s legs tighten around his waist, entire body rolling against Bucky’s, his voice shaking slightly as he says “I was so worried about you.”

Bucky wants to laugh again, because that’s soTony, worrying about Bucky while abducted and fighting for his life. Caring about Bucky in the first place when he should have run, should still be running, should leave Bucky far behind and never think about him again.

Nevermind that the idea has pain lancing through Bucky’s chest like he didn’t even think was possible anymore. He’d take the pain of losing Tony happily if he knew it meant Tony would be safe.

He will walk away, once they get out of here, that’s what Bucky tells himself. He just has to breathe Tony in this one last time and then he’ll walk away.

If Tony will let him. Which doesn’t seem likely, so far Tony has seemed determined to stay by Bucky’s side no matter what, and Bucky can never deny him anything.

The warehouse might be empty now but there’s no telling how long it’ll be before more hunters show up, and they should be getting out of here, Bucky knows that. But he can’t tear himself away from Tony’s warmth, from Tony’s hands moving over him.

Bucky can’t stop thinking that he could have lost this. That if he hadn’t found Tony alive and well Bucky would have made an even bigger mess. There would be no end to the carnage.

When he pulls away from the kiss Tony is panting raggedly and if Bucky had the spare brain power he’d feel bad about that but oh, he really doesn’t right now. Doesn’t care about anything but pressing his lips to Tony’s blood-splattered cheek swearing “I never would have stopped looking for you, never.”

“I know,” Tony promises, still trying to pull Bucky back into another kiss despite the way his words come out weak and breathy, his chest heaving against Bucky’s and his heart thundering.

So alive, alive, alive.

“I’d have done anything to get you back,” Bucky growls, dragging one hand down Tony’s side to his hip, digging his fingers in and shifting them until he can feel the hot brand of Tony’s cock against his hip.

“Fuck!” Tony gasps and the scent of his adrenaline spikes higher, turns sweet and warm as his fingers tighten in Bucky’s hair. “I know, I know, c’mon honey--”

And Bucky can’t say no to that, can never deny Tony anything.

Still, even as he lets Tony haul his face up again Bucky can’t stop the words from spilling out, his voice an awful snarl as he says “and if they’d hurt you--”

It’s probably for the best that Tony slams their lips together again and cuts him off, he doesn’t need to know all the monstrous things Bucky would do in his name. Much better to just let Tony kiss him, let Tony flick his warm tongue over Bucky’s blood smeared lips and the tips of his fangs, like he doesn’t have a fear in the world.

Tony’s heart rate kicks up harder, his next inhale weak and ragged against Bucky’s lips and Bucky forces himself to pull away. He lets Tony catch his breath and moves on to biting his way along Tony’s jaw, not enough to break the skin, just enough to get the taste of his skin on Bucky’s lips.

He tastes like sweat and arousal and need, so much love pouring off of him that Bucky can practically taste it. He’ll never get enough of it, doesn’t ever think he’ll stop being caught off guard by it.

“I told you,” Tony pants out when he finally gets his breath back and for a second Bucky doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, too distracted with the wet drag of Tony’s lips over his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me,” Tony says, one of his hands landing on Bucky’s ass to pull him in closer, harder, arching up into the demanding roll of Bucky’s hips as he moans out “‘m not gonna let anything happen to you either.”

Bucky laughs raggedly, grits his teeth, presses his face into the curve of Tony’s throat and the craziest part is that Bucky believes him. As crazy as it is he has no problem believing that Tony is equally ready to burn the world down. That the bloodbath around them is only the start of what Tony would have done.

The heat building between them is so intense that even Bucky feels warm, feels like he’s burning. Like he’s absorbing all that wonderful warmth and still Tony has so much to give, never runs out of it, never pushes him away.

Bucky growls, lifts his head to make it easier to resist the urge to sink his teeth in and instead rolls his hips against Tony’s, swallows Tony’s shaking moan with another fierce kiss. “You’re so- fuck, gorgeous, the way you looked tearing thorugh them--” Bucky can’t even find the words to describe it but Tony’s scent spikes, proud and smug and fond.

So damn addictive.

He can feel the needy throb of Tony’s cock against his hip, against his own when Bucky shifts a little more, and he grinds himself down against Tony. Chasing the shocks of heat and pleasure that shoot through his system everytime Tony jerks beneath him, everytime Tony cires out and drags in a ragged breath and then clings to Bucky harder, pulling him in and rocking up against him, so alive. Tony’s heels digging into the back of his thighs, hands moving restlessly over Bucky’s skin, sliding up under the back of Bucky’s shirt and leaving burning trails in his wake.

Tony feels so amazing wrapped around him, so alive, warm and demanding as his fingers dig into Bucky’s skin, his breath escaping in gasps and moans. The impossible heat between them continues to grow, until Bucky is sure it’s going to burn him away entirely, he can’t possibly survive something like this.

He can’t possibly keep it, not something like him.

“Bucky,” Tony whines and he’s shaking now, blood roaring through his veins. So close to Bucky’s fangs as he drags his lips up Tony’s throat.

“C’mon baby,” Bucky growls, clenching his teeth against the urge to bite, “lemme feel you sweet thing, wanna hear you.”

“I’m-” Tony gasps and then cuts off with a keening moan as Bucky pins him down more firmly, grinds against him harder. Tony tries to wiggle a hand between their bodies but Bucky grabs his wrist, presses Tony’s hand to the table beside his head.

“Just like this,” Bucky pleads, his own cock throbbing as he slows the rock of his hips, dragging his cock firmly along Tony’s until he shakes. “Just like this baby, wanna watch you make an even bigger mess of yourself, wanna fuckin’ lick you clean when we get home.”

It’s a nice thought, even if Bucky doesn’t know if he’ll actually get a chance, has no idea what’s going to happen next. At least the idea of it has Tony moaning louder, arching up against Bucky’s grip on his hip and on his wrist, always trying to get closer.

“Bucky, Bucky-” Tony wails beneath him, nails digging into Bucky’s skin, thighs tightening around Bucky’s hips, and Bucky can feel the way Tony’s breath catches in his chest. The way his heart pounds as he drags in one more breath and then breaks.

And this, this is Bucky’s favorite sound, the way Tony’s voice cracks on a loud moan as he falls apart, the stuttering jump-skip of his heartbeat. Hundreds of years wandering the earth and he’s never heard anything like it, could happily listen to all the sounds Tony makes for the rest of his endless life.

“Bucky,” Tony sighs, dazed and slurred, fingers still tight in Bucky’s hair even as his entire body shakes. “Fuck, c’mon honey, I’m right here, let me have it, let me feel you.”

He can hear Tony’s thundering heartbeat like it’s his own, can practically taste it on his tongue, and a feral sound rumbles out of Bucky’s chest as he tips over the edge, snarling against the all too delicate skin of Tony’s throat and clutching at him tighter, tighter.

“I love you,” Bucky confesses in a voice that’s so broken it’s practically a whisper, like his greatest secret. The worst thing he’s ever done.

They need to leave, need to get the hell out of here. Bucky should probably leave the city entirely, go back on the move, leave Tony far behind where he won’t get hurt.

That’s the plan.

He knows all that, but Bucky can’t seem to bring himself to let go, can’t stop kissing Tony over and over and over, feeling the warmth of Tony’s skin beneath his hands. Like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it.

“Come on,” Tony breathes against his lips, “we gotta get out of here before the sun comes up.”

Bucky groans, but he knows Tony is right. He can feel the approaching dawn in his bones and the last thing he wants is to be trapped in a Hydra base full of corpses all day. Or to still be here when more hunters show up, to have to leave through the sewers.

So he reluctantly pushes himself upright, mourning the way Tony’s lingering warmth starts to fade as soon as they’re not pressed together anymore. Tony’s hand is so much steadier than his own as Bucky helps him to his feet, so warm and alive and unafraid.

Bucky wants to pull him into another kiss. Wants to drop to his knees and press his face to the wet patch slowly spreading across the front of Tony’s jeans, taste him, lick him clean just like Bucky had promised. Doesn’t want to face the real world just yet because that means facing the fact that he has to leave.

That he doesn’t get to keep this.

Tony’s hand is still steady in his, his smile small and fond and he leads Bucky out of the warehouse, through the room of bodies and the bloodsplattered halls. Bucky pulls them to a stop just outside the heavy door he’d ripped his way through, paying no mind to the lightening color of the sky.

Burning to dust would hurt less than this.

“I need to leave,” Bucky says, the words tearing their way out of his throat, “I may have... made some threats. In order to find you. And Hydra isn’t going to stop as long as I’m here.”

He hasn’t even told Tony why Hydra is so determined to ruin his afterlife, not entirely, and now he doesn’t have time. Tony has been dragged into Bucky’s mess and he’ll never know why, and the only upside is Hydra will blame the bloody mess inside on Bucky. They’ll hunt for him more furiously than ever, and the best thing Bucky can do is lead them far, far away.

This is why not getting involved with humans is rule fucking one but Bucky doesn’t regret it, knows he never will. And as much as it kills him he can’t ask Tony to come with him.

Tony nods, like he expected it, and then asks “where are we going, and how long do I have to pack whatever’s left of my apartment?”

Bucky gapes at him.

It hadn’t occurred to him that he wouldn’t need to ask, and Bucky knows he should be relieved but all he feels is guilt. He loves Tony, but at what cost? He would do anything for Tony, and Bucky is ruining his life.

“You- your home,” Bucky tries to protest, his entire body going cold, colder than anything he’s ever felt before. “Your workshop--”

“You saying I can’t rebuild?” Tony interrupts, “I’m insulted, honestly. How dare you doubt me.” His smile is wide, and cajoling, like he’s trying to cheer Bucky up. Like he’s trying to convince Bucky.

“You’ll have to leave everything,” Bucky insists and maybe he does need convincing. It feels a little like he’s lost his mind, like he’s dreaming. He had a plan. “Your entire life, to hide with me, I can’t- I can’t promise the next time you’ll even see the sun.”

Bucky doesn’t need to breathe but he’s wheezing for breath now, his empty chest aching it’s so full of confusion and guilt and hope. He can’t let Tony do this, he can’t ask for this, he can’t--

Tony grabs Bucky’s face in his warm hands, palms calloused and still tacky with blood, as steady as they are when he’s building the future. As steady as they were around the knife, as when he was leading Bucky out of the bloodbath.

“Bucky,” Tony says simply, dark eyes so impossibly bright even in the sickly fluorescent light that spills out of the warehouse. “Bucky,” he repeats, low and sweet and amused, his voice wavering slightly as says “You are my sunshine.”

Bucky laughs again, can’t believe how much he’s laughed on a night that started out with his absolute worst nightmare. Even if it is a little hysterical.

He had a plan, but he also knew better than to get involved with a human, knew better than to stay in one place this long in the first place. Tony has been wrecking all of his plans without even knowing it for months now anyways.

What’s one more.

“You’re stealin’ all my lines,” Bucky accuses but he doesn’t mind, oh he doesn’t mind at all. He gets to keep this, keep Tony, the brightest thing he’s ever seen.

“I love you,” Tony says, so matter-of-fact, and it almost knocks Bucky’s legs out from under him. Every single time.

“That’s my line,” Bucky says, and he smiles, and his hand is steady as he wraps it around Tony’s wrist. “I love you,” he says anyways and tangles their fingers together, doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. “Let’s go.”

#my fic #bucky/tony #winteriron #starkbucks #everybody loves vampire bucky AMIRIGHT #anywhooo HAPPYBIRFDAY 😘

[tokoyamisstuff]

Dark Side Of The Moon Ch. 1 - Dark! Loki x Reader

Chapter 1: Speak to Me/Breathe

Chapter Summary: The last thing you remember was being mortally wounded, now having woken up in a completely different reality. And you’d soon need to face the horrors of who would seek you out...

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Suicide Attempt, Graphic Descriptions of Death, Dark! Loki, Spoiler you kinda die but kinda don't

Words: approx. 3800

[Story Masterlist]

Masterlist to my other works right ->Here<-

Lyrics used from the Song: Kina ft. Snow - Get You The Moon

“Y/N, look out!”

The piercing sounds of gunfire nearby made your eardrums ring, yet Steve’s words got through to you nonetheless.

But you were determined to end this, here and now.

Tony was the first one at your side, catching you in his arms before you hit the floor. However, you could only do so much as whimper a silent apology to your friends, who now had to live with the consequences of your actions.

“Why did you do this?!” you heared Dr. Strange yell as he unsucessfully tried to close the deep cut in your gut. Too afraid of what you might see if you’d look at the wound, your glare was locked on the beautiful sky - yes, the sun was almost setting, and it was somehow calming to you that this would most likely the last thing you’d set eyes upon.

“There was no reason to be this reckless!” Steve followed close by, his scolding soon turning into desperate screams. “Fuck. FUCK!” If Captain America himself is cussing, then it’s as severe as you thought it to be.

Your wounds were lethal, that much was sure.

And of course they were right, as always: You didn’t need to play the martyr here, throwing yourself into danger to shield your comrades - well, you did anyway, and there was no going back now.

On the other hand, they were the ones taking a gravely depressed widow onto a dangerous mission. But you did not want your precious friends to blame themselves for that, for it was your own wish.

Dying in an honorable battle was what would send you to Valhalla, after all - where you could finally meet him again, hopefully.

The only one not having spoken a single word up until now was Thor, very well knowing what all this was about. It was no secret that you were sick and tired of how your life had turned out to be, ever since the Infinity War.

You felt empty. Incomplete. Desperate. Hallow.

The God of Thunder had turned his back to you, yet there was still agony radiating from that already broken man. Your almost-brother-in-law was the only one who could possibly understand your pain. Thor Odinson had lost everything: His homeland, most of his tribe, his family and best friend - and soon, you as well.

All this time, you wanted to be strong. For them, who had also lost so much!

But at some point things just got out of control.

“You can’t leave me alone, Lady Y/N! Not you too!” Thor finally whimpered as he fell onto his knees, softly squeezing your hand. “You’re the only thing I have left from him!

So this is what dying feels like.

The bloodloss caused your limps to go limp, and when the pain began to stop and got replaced by numbness, you knew it would soon be time. Your brain lost the remaining control over your body, and you found yourself encoated by pure nothingless.

Only able to listen by their screams, cries and kind words - at least you’d die surrounded by those marvellous people. It sure was a privilege knowing them.

You weren’t afraid - all in all, it had been a good life, after all. 

There were no regrets.

“Shh” you hushed them, using your last bit of strenght so your lips formed somewhat of a most broken smile, forming words between gurling on your own blood.

“It’s alright, I-” you cut yourself off, trying to scream as a last, torturing pain shot through your whole system. “I-I-I’ll-- meet him again...you know?”

“I’m no-not strong enough, please...” Thor cried out like you had never seen him before, feeling a tide of guilt wash over you. “Loki wouldn’t have wanted you to go like this! He told me to protect you, so you could lead a long and happy life!”

Without him? Impossible!

“You gave me a shoulder when I needed it

You showed me love when I wasn’t feeling it

You helped me fight when I was giving in

And you made me laugh when I was losing it”

Yes, indeed: You had been to selfish to keep on living just for the sake of your friends, burdening them with yet another loss.

“I-I don’t wanna go...this was a mistake, I- please...”

How badly did you want to soothe them right now, telling them that everything would be alright and you’d meet them again, eventually?

It was too late now.

Your body gave up earlier than your soul, which had endured and kept on all this time, even in it’s shattered state.

And when Tony’s palm gently closed your eyes, making it easier for you to embrace the cold darkness, the last thing you heared before your senses gave up were startling you enough to almost bring you back to life:

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

That voice was familiar, yet it didn’t belong to Loki. Dr. Strange, no- Stephen Strange, your friend and mentor of the mystic arts.

“I don’t have the heart to allow this to happen” he stated frantic, making you wonder if that was a dream of your hypoxic brain or if you were still able to hear them? People tend to say the sense of hearing dies last, after all. “She still has a pulse, even though weak. Hurry!”

Their voices were far in the back, words way too far out of your reach to understand. As if you were an outsider, only observing from a distance.

Your friends were fighting, or maybe discussing something. That much you could make up from their tone, but your mind was too exhausted to make sense of anything.

It felt as if you were already without a body, floating through the unknown like a feather in the wind - not knowing where fate would lead you to next.

Everything was numb - even your pain. It was soothing, somehow.

Because you had been a ghost way before, when you were alive even. An empty shell of a human, acting like they weren’t dead on the inside.

Coherent thoughts, memories, emotions...even the fractions of your own past you had both collected and surpressed. Right now, they were all restrained and pushed far in the back of your very core, where you were finally able to evaluate them without earthly bondings.

Was this heaven, hell - or maybe both or none or them?

____

"Be aware of the limits this tactic has. It’s a very drastic measurement that can most likely be used only once in your lifetime, and it is not guaranteed to work either.”

Stephen’s voice again. You recall that scene, it’s been long in the past...but why are you remembering it now?

Yes, this was familiar. All of you had been invited to the Sanctum Sanctorum, a fitting place to teach about this ancient knowledge.

You clearly remembered that Loki was absent in any of the Doctor’s lessons, feeling that a “puny human” was “unworthy” to teach him, and “it would be nothing new anyway, Y/N, I am a god and the way better wizard, I know it all already.”

What he was about to tell you back then was some kind of crazy emergency-plan: Dangerous, unpredictable and escpecially untested.

“I’ve only read about this tactic up until now” the mage pondered loudly as he picked at his goatee, earning some childish giggles by you and Tony. “So I cannot promise that it will function as planned. The Multiverse is dangerous and acts in unforseen ways.”

“Very reassuring” you had mocked at the time, not really biding the topic any importance or thought ever again.

But now...

The trick sounded way simpler than it actually was, being as complex as it is only natural for something like that, costing a huge prize at that:

Dr. Strange would send any of you who were on the brink of death through a portal, thus leading you into a random dimension of this endless Multiverse.

That dimension, in which your alternate self has most likely died, will gladly accept you as a “replacement”. Some kind of what Peter Parker called a “glitch” will occur, instantly healing all of your wounds - even fatal ones, so you could remain in the timeline that was missing you. 

Yet the consequences of this maneuvre would be unspeakable.

_____

“That bastard...” you gnarled internally, finally realizing why you would remember this of all things after apparently having just taken your dying breath. “He didn’t just-”

Eventually, you realized having escaped death’s grip, slowly beginning to regain your senses - yet still refusing to open your eyes.

“I don’t want to leave this place. My friends -- will I never see them again? No. NO! Life is meaningless. Just let me be with him. Please! Loki...”

“’Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

‘Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Another part of Strange’s lesson echoed in your head, revealing that you were now in fact up on your own.

“Not even I can tell just how much this timeline will differ from what you know. Of course I will search for you right away, but considering the countless possibilities, it might very well be that we’ll never meet again. But you’re alive, and hopefully safe. That’s all that counts.”

Grass tickled your palm as you twitched your fingers, testing the limits of your body, which had literally just tricked death. Suddenly, you felt a stinging pain, almost like lightning boring into your temportal. The origin of this pain remained unknown.

When you finally found the courage to sit up, your flesh still feeling as heavy as lead, you realized that Stephen was most likely wrong: He assumed that you’d find yourself in a place you had a deep connection with, yet that place was unrecognizable to you.

Then why were you here of all places?

Actually, this location was incredibly beautiful, managing to stop the aching in your heart, if only for the fraction of a second.

Your former lover would’ve loved this place.

“'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you

And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you”

Even though not all of Dr. Strange’s speculations were correct, you decided to stick to his emergency plan: Find as much information about this “new” earth as possible, point out the differences to your initial one, and then contact the Dr. Strange of this dimension.

Two mages working on crossing each other’s path would at least higher the stakes to find your original timeline.

Well, no one could guarantee you that the Avenger’s existed on this timeline, and they could as well be evil in this one...what a weird and horrifying imagination.

Knowledge really was power - that was another thing Loki had taught you a long time ago, and it would prove valuable, especially in this situation.

As you wandered this surprisingly extensive garden and getting lost in admiring the beauty of it’s nature, you found yourself devoid of any weapons. That fact made you slightly uncomfortable, even though your current location seemed absent of any ememies, making a peaceful impression. 

Seemingly there weren’t any evil schemes going on in this dimension.

It basically were only minor differences, at least that was your first impression. At least there were no changes in natural laws or something as big.

“I miss the days where magic and science didn’t mix up like this” you whispered, mainly to yourself as you examined the new, large scar on your abdomen - the only memory left of your “almost-suicide-mission”.

To be more precize: The only thing left from your former life, now leaving you able to start completely anew, wether you wanted it or not.

Sun had almost drowned behind the horizon, diving the sky in a deep orange. Your eyes were still adjusting, yet you could’ve sworn to see the silhouette of a person. It was far away, at the entrance on what appeared to be a palace belonging to this garden.

Apparently, you had invaded someone’s propery, and you could only pray that it was noone important - or worse, a owner who would defend their ground with violence.

You don’t think your earth had a place this...flashy. The castle was way bigger than any you knew on the other timeline. The first difference you had figured out, yet it was only a minor one.

Maybe the headache you were experiencing was from someone making you  out as an intruder?

One thing was sure: You had been noticed, and you immediately were on high alert.

Where to run to or at least hide?

There was a maze made out of bushed parting you and the palace, and since there was no better option, you’d enter it. Talking to that person and convincing them of your goodwill would make it way easier to gain information.

“You may come out” you declared as you made your way, unable to evaluate the situation properly. “I mean no harm. I’m just lost.”

Was it dangerous to be here? Obviously, you were not allowed to be here anyway.

However, when you had finally found the escape to that maze, only several hundret meters away from the building, the person was already gone.

Had your mind just played a dirty trick on you again? Wouldn’t be the firt time it’d betray you like this...

No. You clearly felt someone watching you.

And as soon as your senses had sharpened to your usual self again, you instantly jumped back, gaining some distance to the Citauri that had just appeared behing you.

Shit! You weren’t ready to fight again just yet. Not like this.

And where one of those vile beasts were, many others would appear. You knew that much.

Had Thanos invaded this earth? Oh god, not again...not him. You were so damn tired of those fights, escapes and especially the pain that always inevitable followed after.

Just when it was about to swing it’s weapon at your head, you felt dizziness crawl up your nerves, making you collapse on the floor. Lucky for you, because only like that, the stike didn’t hit you.

Even though having been taught basic magic skills, that certain kind of spell you were unable to fight against - only true masters of the art were able to perform a sorcery that well.

The Chitauri had left your line of sight, yet the other figure from before reappeared in a pace so fast that your eyes couldn’t follow. They sweeped you off the floor just before your head would meet the hard pavement.

“And now you will answer to me, shapeshifter.”

Once again someone robbed you of the control of your life and body, leaving you without a free will.

How long had you been passed out now? You didn’t know and honestly didn’t care either - since you had nothing to lose anymore.

In the meantime, the owner of those lands had dismissed his guards, not wanting to be disturbed as he was left alone with you in the giant throne room.

The apparent ruler of that unclassified location was sitting on his throne, warily observing you from above. You were lying to his feet at the bare floor, every piece of clothing robbed from you and restrained by a pile of chains. He watched every twitch, all breaths you’d take or groans escaping your mouth until you would finally awake.

Oh, how you really were just like he remembered you, with every little detail he had adored.

At long last, you would finally open your lids again, blinking heavily as you took in your surroundings - but when your eyes met certain emerald ones, they immediately sprung wide open, the emptiness in your heart being filled with all kinds of emotions once again.

The man - it was him!

“'Cause you are, you are

Oh, you are

Oh, you are

You are'Cause you are, you are

The reason why I’m still hanging on

'Cause you are, you are

The reason why my head is still above water

And if I could I’d get you the moon

And give it to you”

“Loki!” you screamed from the bottom of your heart. Without a single coherent thought, your legs would carry on their own as your weakened body stumbled in their attempt to climb those stairs.

For both of you, that momend of reuinion had waited far too long.

The god was temptated to approach you, his trembling hands already reaching out to catch your fragile body should you fall - but suddenly, you felt his knuckles digging into your cheekbone.

“Stay away from me, you fake!” Loki yelled furiously as you hit the ground, rubbing your cheek as you tried to understand what just happened.

Yeah, that sure brought you back to reality again, after such a short high.

Right.

That isn’t your Earth - and not your Loki either.

You couldn’t even be sure this world’s Y/N and Loki had the same kind of relationship the two of you had back in your timeline! The only thing you knew was that he knew you from his past, but as it seemed not pleasantly.

Now that you looked closely, he even had less scars, almost looking untouched and pure - like a true, invincible god. Maybe life here had treat him well, unlike his counterpart from your timeline.

He was still wearing that excessive outfit with the golden horns, and much to both your amazement and fear, it seemed that he still possessed theTesseract.

Could it be...

Before you could connect the dots, the king would soon interrupt your string of thoughts. “Drop that disguise, scum!”

Loki kept on degrading you as he paced in front of his throne, brow sinking deeper and deeper. “Don’t think you can somehow appeal to those pathetic sentiments” he explained, “I’ve freed myself from them long ago. Just stop making a fool out of yourself, and maybe I’ll reward it with a quicker death.”

Yet when he saw your most innocent smile, even this Loki would stand frozen in place, deeply in shock.

How he yearned to see it, all those years - to tell you just how sorry he was for everthing he’s done.

No.

He had left all of this behind - to claim his birthright and rule.

“I-I’m deeply so-sorry...that is a mistake” you whimmered with a broken voice, wiping a tear of joy out of your face. “My feelings overwhelmed me, I guess. I’ve never thought to see you again, even if you’re not the same Loki I know.”

Still cowering on the floor, you looked up to him with compassionate eyes, as if he had not just beat you before. You did not dare to make any more, wanting for Loki to try and understand himself.

“A variant?” he gnarled, just like you did when he realized.

No force in the world had allowed him to access other parts of the Multiverse, no matter how desperately he tried - and now fate had literally dropped you in front of his door.

Loki balled his fists in anger, making you flinch as you anticipated yet another blow.

“Dear, I-”

“Shut up!” the God of Mischief shoutet, causing his magic to break free. The walls of the palace were shaking, most windows and furniture having been destroyed. “It’s no use, woman!”

That man was way more powerful than the “puny god” people called names back on Asgard - and his sheer might made you quiver.

Just what kind of monster had he become, and why?

“L-Loki, please...” you tried to appeal to the last bit of humanity  he might possess, and your begging made his guts twist in agony. “You’re scaring me.”

“You better be scared!” he exclaimed, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at him. “No matter what disgracefully weak “alter ego” of me you knew, I am built different. Stronger. Better. Everyone in the Nine Realms fears me, and I desire nothing else! Everything distracting me from fulfilling my destiny and reign over you dull creatures I got rid of. You’re nothing more than an insect I might as well crush right here and now!”

Choking on a sob, he tried to relish that last chance he got to admire you, smell you, touch what he cannot possess...no matter how many universes there may be.

A flood of tears cracked down your face at his words, yet you couldn’t be helped.

No matter what he would say - he looked just like him.

And that was enough for you to feel alive after such a long time of being a walking dead. There had to be a reason you landed right at his home, of all places in this universe. You had a connection, both of you felt it ever since you had been transported here.

"May I ask-” you disrupted yourself, awaiting some reaction. But the conqueror had seemed to have spoken what he thought important to say, not declining your question at all.

Whenever he seemed fit, he could disintegrate you - yet right now, this situation was way too intriguing.

“What happened to myself in this reality?”

Loki swallowed harshly, letting go off of you as he threw you down the stairs. He wouldn’t even bide you one look as he tried to surpress the turmoil of emotion still running through his veins, desperately keeping it from breaking free.

The outcome would always be the same: Suffering, for both of you.

“And if death was coming for you

I’d give my life for you.”

He only ever wanted it to stop hurting. To become unfeeling, since love had always been poisoning his mind, sometimes being gifted with it even though he knew he would never be worthy of anything else than disgust and hate.

And that contradiction caused him to throw away anything good that happened to him, through you. Let it be taken away from him just shortly after finally learning to remotely enjoy.

You deserved the truth, a reason to hate him even more than you probably already did.

Had you only come to his salvation earlier, then he might have been helped - yet now, he was beyond redemption. Broken. Sick. Dangerous.

And when the Chitauri dragged you away, his last words let your blood run cold:

“She died through my hands.”

_____

If you want to get on the taglist (or deleted from lmao) feel free to ask! ♡

Feedback is always appreciated!

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Laufeyson #Loki x Y/N #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #TW #Writing #Self Insert #Fanfiction..God of Mischief #Multiverse #Asgard #Midgard #Disney #Marvel #Avengers

[shades-of-stony]

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

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

Push by phoenixreal

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

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

The words you choose to say by masterlokisev159

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

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

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

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

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

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

Protocol SOTERIA by GoldenFinches

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

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

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

Straight to Voicemail by YouMakeMeDokiDoki

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

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

Or

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

Note: this will absolutely break you heart.

Sunshine and Luck by ImportedfromMunich2

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

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

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

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

Note: A good Steve whump fic! 

When You Mess With Him... by REM_It_Up

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

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

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

Colonel James Rhodes

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

To Need is Not To Want by Brixon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No Trait As Much As This by KandiSheek

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

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

Good For You by @orbingarrow

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

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

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

hold the things you wanna say by SailorChibi

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

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

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

This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

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

Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon

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

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

Advanced Protocol by masterlokisev159

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

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

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

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

Flower Child by itsallAvengers

Summary: The point was this, though:

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

So this? Nonsensical.

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

What Pays All Debts by KandiSheek

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

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

Falling Into You by sabrecmc

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

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

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

Art Freaks and Comic Geeks by Coil

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

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

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

Their paths happen to cross at Comic-Con.

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

Unwritten Endings by XtaticPearl

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

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

WIP

Need Is Just A Word by masterlokisev159

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

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

Take me out tonight by masterlokisev159

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

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

Why on earth did Steve choose him?

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

The Soul Stone's Sacrifice by masterlokisev159

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

That is until Tony comes back.

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

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

[themadamespod]

Sharon Carter: A Study in Selfishness

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spotlighted some hard truths. Beyond its real-world parallels, it’s changed our perspective on the MCU. And on the heels of the finale, we can’t help but reflect on how we got here.

It feels like ages ago that an alien invaded Earth believing it was his right to do so. This madman imposed his will upon a whole planet. He wielded god-like power over an entire species. He took the lives of countless people, leaving the rest to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. 

In doing so, he became one of the most beloved characters in the MCU.

So why is it that many of the people who adore a monster are now so disappointed with Sharon Carter?

Easy. Loki is a man. 

Angels and Demons

Relax, everybody. This is not an anti-Loki treatise. I’m writing this post with a Loki poster behind my chair, a Loki mug on my desk, and a Loki t-shirt on my back.

To be fair, it helps that the God of Mischief is played by one of the most charming, attractive men in Hollywood. But Emily VanCamp is no slouch. She’s a beautiful, talented actor who elevates any project. So why are people upset that she’s the Power Broker?

Women aren’t supposed to veer from familial or cultural expectations. 

Women aren’t supposed to put themselves first. 

Women aren’t supposed to seize power in a man’s world. 

The events of Civil War alone had a tremendous impact on the characters we love. Sam and Bucky’s respective ordeals changed them forever, and The Blip forced them to adapt even further. So many people are praising their growth in the TFATWS finale, and we’re among them. But it’s frustrating to then see comments like these:

“Omg wtf is wrong with Sharon? That is NOT who she is!”

“Since when is Sharon evil? That ain’t her.”

“Sharon is totally a Skrull. The Sharon we know would never turn her back on everything she stands for.”

Guess what, folks? Just like Sam and Bucky, the Sharon we once knew no longer exists. She, too, changed and grew - right out of the box that the patriarchy built for her. And people don’t know how to handle it.  

Double Standards

Misogyny is so deeply woven into the fabric of our society that a lot of people, women included, often don’t see it. But it’s in almost every facet of daily life, leaching into our brains like a toxin. And TFATWS called Marvel out on it by illustrating a simple fact:

Men and women who behave in the same way are treated very differently.

A man who tramples others for a promotion is ambitious. A woman is a conniving bitch.

A man who sleeps around is held up as a ladies’ man. A woman is looked down upon as a whore.

A man who logs extra time at the office is a good provider. A woman is neglecting her family. 

Despite centuries of fighting for our right to exist, women are still brainwashed to be and be seen as lesser than men. We’re expected to conform to roles meant to keep us subservient. We’re told that caring for others is more important than caring for ourselves. 

Sharon Carter received the same cultural programming. And it’s likely that she felt familial pressure (either explicit or implicit) to follow in Aunt Peggy’s footsteps, whether she wanted to or not. 

And follow she did.

Sharon joined S.H.I.E.L.D. She fought armed HYDRA agents. Then she sacrificed her life, her career, and her freedom for the greater good. And what did she get for it?

The same thing women always get when they put everyone else’s best interests ahead of their own. 

She got fucked. 

A Matter of Perspective

Let’s pretend the TFATWS finale had gone differently. The Power Broker is a previously unseen bad guy, a Wilson Fisk type. After the U.S. government branded her as a fugitive and the Avengers forgot her, Sharon has just been trying to survive in Madripoor.

Nonetheless, she helps Sam and Bucky neutralize Karli. Sam secures Sharon’s pardon and she reclaims her former post as a dutiful C.I.A. agent.

Talk about disappointing; that would be like watching a woman return to a man who beats her. 

In reality, Sharon is revealed as the Power Broker. After the people for whom she gave everything betrayed her, she built a lucrative business from scratch using a canny brain and the skills S.H.I.E.L.D. taught her.

Now for those who are incensed by Sharon’s turn because she’s selling weapons, please see Exhibit A:

Even after Tony Stark stopped manufacturing weapons for the U.S. government, he continued making them for S.H.I.E.L.D. If memory serves, he also created a sentient murder-bot that leveled a city before nearly annihilating mankind.

Tony’s intentions were noble, but that didn’t make him any less responsible for a humanitarian disaster. The Sokovians would have been well within their rights to demand Tony’s arrest and incarceration.

But we love Tony, so we don’t like to go there.

And speaking of the U.S. government, let’s be real. American politicians wouldn’t condemn Sharon for illegally selling weapons to dangerous groups. They’d condemn her for cutting into their own profits. 

If there’s one thing the U.S. government excels at, it’s creating and arming terrorists. Sharon’s just running their playbook.

Redefining Selfishness

In all fairness, some people’s disappointment over Sharon’s arc has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with heroism. For this discussion, see Exhibit B:

Ever since Steve Rogers got his happy ending with Peggy Carter in Endgame, the Marvel fandom has been divided into two camps.

Camp 1: Steve is a selfish bastard who abandoned his family, his country, and the world when they all needed him the most.

Camp 2: Steve did more than enough for his family, his country, and the world when they all needed him most and deserved his happiness.

I will always be a card-carrying member of Camp 2, which is one reason I exited my Endgame theater as a human ball of snot. 

Steve Rogers gave enough for his country even before he was defrosted. He liberated a POW camp behind enemy lines. He defeated Red Skull. He saved countless lives by crashing the HYDRA bomber into the arctic, sacrificing his own life in the process.

And when he was resurrected after 70 years, did he stop and smell the roses? Read a book on the beach?

No. He saved the world. Again, and again, and again.

It’s incredibly noble that a life with Peggy is all Steve wanted. Think about Michael Bay’s uber-patriotic Armageddon. Those roughnecks had quite the list of demands for saving the world, all of which seemed perfectly reasonable because, hello, they were saving the world. 

So what does this have to do with Sharon Carter? Well, if you’re in Steve Rogers Camp 1, you likely see Sharon as a selfish bitch. I’ll make the same argument in her defense:

She’s given more than enough for others. She has every right to now put herself first.

We as women need to redefine selfishness. It’s been weaponized against us for far too long. We have to reframe it as a positive concept whereby we simply make our needs a priority in our own lives. 

If more women embraced selfishness, we would be unstoppable. 

Oh, and if you’re in Steve Rogers Camp 2 but still disappointed in Sharon Carter, you’ve got some hypocrisy on your chin. Might want to wipe that off. 

A Final Note

Alice Walker, who knows a thing or two about feminism, once said, “The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.”

When the name “Power Broker” was first dropped on The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, it felt cheesy. But now it seems like the perfect title for a woman who not only refused to give up her power, but actively sought more. 

Sharon Carter is unequivocally selfish, but that doesn’t make her evil or even wrong. 

It makes her one powerful woman. And we can’t wait to see her again. 

#Sharon Carter #Power Broker #Peggy Carter #Agent Carter #SHIELD #HYDRA #military industrial complex #Captain America #Captain America The First Avenger #Captain America The WinterSoldier #Captain America Civil War #Steve Rogers #Avengers Endgame #Endgame #Avengers #Battle of New York #Loki #Loki Laufeyson #God of Mischief #Tom Hiddleston #Iron Man #Tony Stark #Stark Industries #Ultron #Age of Ultron #Sokovia #feminism #womens rights #womens empowerment #female empowerment

[charliedawn]

Imagine being a corrector (someone there to erase mistakes) and witness Iron Man's progress throughout his life to judge him on his final moment.

" And how many people will die from this impressive weapon ?"

You asked and Tony smiled widely at your question, as if he had impatiently expected it.

" Hundreds ! With only one big boom, all of America's enemies will be annihilated !"

Stop smiling, you dirtbag. You are selling this as if it was a party cake. You're going to sell a weapon of massive destruction to the US army that will exterminate hundreds of people in a few seconds with it and you can still look at me dead in the eyes with this repulsive self-absorbed smile..You thought and sighed before looking at the paper in your hand where was written in bold letters.

TONY STARK : SAVE/ERASE?

You looked at him and his stupid smile again, wondering if you should erase his existence. It was your job after all, to erase everything and everyone that may be nocive for the world, or that may end up being a problem..Mistakes could happen of course, but taking a life was always hard, no matter how you looked at it. Now, Tony Stark..He was a difficult case. He was an idiot, there was no doubt in your head about that..but, he also had potential..If given the right opportunity, he could even be great. You decided to take a step back and looked at his file. You could give him a bit of time..You had loads of time to watch him and his every move. You wanted a change. And would spare his life, for now. You stepped back into the shadows and disappeared as Tony Stark entered a nearby black car.

A few years later :

Why ?

Why did you save that idiot ? You ask yourself while watching him snap his fingers. Your wide eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing. You had given this man so many choices and chances..All that for that. What a disappointment..! You sigh before walking towards the now floating soul of Tony Stark, still in his eye-catching red super suit. Typical. He finally notices you and eyes you up and down with an eyebrow raised.

" I thought angels would look a little bit more..feathery ? And less like one of my ex-associates.."

Oh boy..Here it is, the introduction part.

" Hello, Mr Stark. I am Y/N, your corrector, my job consists in making sure that your life hasn't been wasted or meaningless.."

He smiles proudly before answering in a pompous voice that daddy's rich boys usually took when asked the question.

" I didn't waste any of it ! That's for sure !"

You frown before writing something on the file, moron..He was a complete moron. But, you still had a job to do. You force yourself to stay polite and look back at the record in your hands.

" So, Mr Stark.."

" Please, call me Tony."

You ark an eyebrow, but don't linger on the subject and only look at the file in your hands even though you already knew what was written on it. You had to pretend, if only to make him realize how lying wouldn't help him.

" I see here that you don't believe in any particular religion..So, you will have the privilege to choose which god will supervise your transfer to the afterlife..Your judge, if you will ?"

He seems to think for a moment before having an idea and looking back at you with a wide grin.

" I know ! Can I try to go to the Valhalla ?"

You ark an eyebrow again at his surprising answer, but then remember that Thor was a friend of his during his life. He surely wanted to see a familiar face during the trial. Understandable. Maybe he wasn't such an idiot after all ?

You nod understandingly before looking back at the file again.

" As it is procedure, I will ask you a few questions and you'll have to answer them as truthfully as possible, alright ?"

Tony agrees and you start with the first one on the list.

" Okay..So, did you ever experience love in your life ? Did you care about anyone, more than yourself that is ?"

He snorts at that last part before replying sarcastically.

" Nope. Never more than myself. Because I've been raised to look after number 1..However, I would say that Pepper and my girl will always be my first priorities.."

You nod before adding.

" And your father ?"

The question catches him off guard, but he quickly composes himself and seems to hesitate before replying.

" My father and I had a..a very complicated relationship..I admit having hated him for a long time, but now ? I only feel pity.."

You raise an eyebrow at his answer, knowing that he had also admired his father in his youth and felt a certain regret as to not have been able to save him and his mother..But you don't comment on that and only go to the next question.

" Do you think you died a better person than you were at the beginning of your life ?"

He smirks confidently at that question before answering ironically.

" Let me see..I've gone from weapon smuggler to superhero..So, yes. I think I changed. Greatly."

You bite you lip in order not to brutally state him the facts that he's killed more innocents as a superhero than as a weapon smuggler.

" Fine. And finally, are you satisfied with the life you've lived and do you think you deserve to go to the great beyond ?"

He laughs, as if it was some sort of joke and shakes his head before looking up at you.

" I saved the world, isn't that good enough ?"

This is the last straw. You close your book with force, which makes him jump a little as you look at him with your nose scrunched in obvious anger and eyebrows furrowed in clear disappointment.

" You, Tony Stark, are the most selfish blind stupidest man I've ever met ! You really think that all of this is funny ?! Are you really satisfied with the life you've lived or do you really have no idea of the chaos and misery you've created around you ?!"

His mouth is agape in astonishment at your sudden outburst and you decide to show him. You flick your fingers and you both find yourselves in front of a burning city that Tony recognizes as New York..the night when the chitauris attacked.

" I..I don't understand..Why show me this ?"

He asks as his eyes linger on the fire ans the people crying and screaming for help. You smile sadly at his own unawareness..

" Because, Tony, the damage you caused didn't stop when you stopped the bad guy. People died before, during, and after you've fought the bad guy. It takes time to rebuild a city, and human ressources that you seem to have overlooked because, what ? You've send them some money ?!"

Tony brawls his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white and suddenly turns towards you with determination in his eyes.

" I think I did okay !"

He argues, but you only snort mockingly.

" Okay ? OKAY ?! You died, you moron ! You died before you've had the chance to truly do good..The money you've accumulated during all those years ? You were going to give it all to the families of all those who died during all those attacks. You were going to have a child ! You were going to be a wonderful father ! And you gave it all away..The money will now be used by the Shield to create more weapons and destruction ! Your daughter will never grow up to be a hero, because you will not be here to inspire her..And Pepper will be forced to raise her all on her own ! You selfish bastard !"

You yell, not noticing how you get carried away, while pointing an accusative finger at him.

" You could have lived your life ! Happily Ever After ! But no, instead you had to die, leaving a child and your wife behind ! How does that sound, genius ? Does it sound like you did "okay" ?! Now, tell me, before I send you either back to Earth or up there. Tell me why I should let you live ? After you messed up the last chance I gave to you ?"

His breath hitches at your words and he looks at his hands, as if considering what he had done before looking up at you with, what you can only describe as, a feeling of loss.

" I did what I did to save my friends. As far as I know, I didn't waste my life, I saved lives. Those lives were as important as mine, who would I be if I hadn't saved them ?"

You roll your eyes at his hero speech before looking at your datapad. You were only a small gear in the mechanism of Earth's afterlife. You were supposed to bring souls to their final destination..However, there were always tricky situations, like Mr Tony Spark. He had been good, there was no doubt about that, but he had also been awful..Damn awful judging by his long list of infractions and lives sacrificed..You sigh before looking up at him in silent contemplation, wondering what you should do with this one..? Suddenly, an idea pops up in your mind and you smile before advancing towards him and extending your hand.

" How about you come and work for me as a way to get your redemption and reunite with your wife and child ? My work may be tedious, but you'll soon come to find that it had its perks..Of course, you'll still have to get the approval of god you chose..but I don't think he'll deny it. A few years as a corrector, and you'll be able to go to the other side, how does that sound ?"

He looks at your extended hand, and then at you before asking something that you had not thought about.

" Please, could you bring me to Asgard ? Just to say goodbye to an old friend ?"

You sigh loudly, of course he would want to see Thor..He would surely ask the god to save him, try to make him pass without any setbacks. But, who were you to deny a soul its last wish ? You flick your fingers and appear at Asgard. Obviously, you couldn't bring him to a place that didn't exist anymore and not right after his death, this is why you had decided to appear just before its destruction..When Loki was in charge..However, unlike what you had previously thought, Tony doesn't seem lost and walks towards the royal hall with alarming confidence. You tag along and soon find yourself in the throne room with Odin (aka Loki) staring at you with a hint of surprise, but still remaining in character.

" What are you doing here, mortals ?!"

He booms and you sigh, another brilliant idea, as always..Loki would surely report you to the High Council and it would be finished of your career. You try to say something, maybe something to keep you both from being shifted into nothingness..But Tony steps towards him and, to the greatest astonishment of Loki and you, embraces him.

" You've done good, son..You've done good.."

Suddenly, as if the both of them had had a silent conversation, Loki wraps his arms around Tony and starts crying against his shoulder.

" I can feel it..You're gone, aren't you ?"

He asks with grief in his voice and you are too shocked to answer..even Loki, the god of Mischief, the bad god as some would call him, was crying for this mere human..You didn't understand why ? Why would he tear up over his death ? A mortal that he hates..The notion was incomprehensible for you and Loki seems to notice and straightens up to look at you.

" I assume he chose Thor as a judge ? Unfortunately, my brother is out of Asgard at the moment.."

Before he could continue, Tony shakes his head negatively before looking back at you with a slight smile.

" No. I've chosen you, reindeer game."

Loki's eyes widen significantly and he repeats, visibly as dumbfounded as you are.

" M..Me ? But..But why ?"

You couldn't have asked it better, why did he choose him ?! Out of everyone else ?! You grab Tony and put on a wide fake smile for Loki.

" I'm sorry, but I must discuss with him for a moment. We'll be back soon, I promise."

You then proceed to drag Tony out of the throne room and, as soon as you are sure to be out of reach, lose your smile to look angrily at Tony.

" Are you mad ?! You could have chosen Thor and go on your merry way to Valhalla, Paradise or whatever..But nooooo, you had to choose the god that despises you the most !"

Tony doesn't seem that worried and only shrugs with a confident smile.

" I know..Loki is the first one to be chosen, ever. He wasn't the one that was supposed to be king, he always got left behind and never got any chance to prove that he could be better..Maybe, for once, he could be my first choice ?"

You open your eyes wide and want to face-palm yourself so hard..Damn heroes and their moral codes !

" It's not about his redemption ! It's about yours !"

He nods, keeping his wide smug smile and replies nonchalantly.

" I know..This is why I chose him. If even him can forgive me, then I'll know that I definitely deserve to go to..whatever is best after.."

You gape at his answer, but finally sigh in defeat. You couldn't make him reconsider, you know that..He was the most stubborn man that you had ever worked with..You drag him back inside and look up at Loki defiantly and warn him, to his utter astonishment.

" Okay, I know now that I can't change my client's mind..But, I can assure you that if you try to sabotage his only chance to go to the great beyond, I'll personally take care of your case when the time comes..Understood ?!"

Loki's eyes glance at Tony then at you, all malice out of his eyes as he nods in agreement.

" I may not be fond of the Avengers, but I know better than to mess with you people..You are not merely humans and even though we were on opposite sides, I still value the life of the human beside you, as a warrior and the worthy opponent that he is.."

" Aww..Love you too, Reindeer !"

You glare at Tony to shut him up as he only smiles smugly at you. Damn Stark..You extend your hand towards the king, aware of the procedure, he takes your arm and looks directly in your eyes.

" Do you promise to be impartial and to not speak of this trial to any living beings as long as you will inhabit the land of the living ?"

" I promise."

He answers solemnly and takes back his appearance, as he was supposed to judge as Loki, not Odin. He then looks at the coin that had appeared in his hand, either he would give it back to you with heads, and Tony's soul would be saved..or tails, and his soul would be lost forever. You take a big breath before beginning the trial.

" We will start with the beginning. Tony Stark is a selfish egocentric man who did spent most of his life searching for recognition, money and fame.."

Loki and Tony both open their eyes wide, not expecting you to be so hard from the start.

" Hum..Aren't you supposed to be my lawyer ? You're supposed to be on my side, remember ?"

Tony asks, a hint of worry in his voice, but you narrow your eyes at him and respond in all seriousness.

" I am not your lawyer, Mr Stark. I'm a corrector. I am supposed to tell the truth and not hide anything from the judge..Now, is any of the things I just said wrong ?"

He gulps loudly and lets out a defeated sigh, looking at the floor and shaking his head.

" No. You're right.."

Your expression softens, at least he had the decency to admit it..

" However, he has proven on multiple occasions that he was a particularly good man that inspired many that will do good in the future. And, became a very good father figure for Peter Parker that will accomplish great things in the future..I have seen a lot of men change in my career, for better or for worse..But none of them were as impressive as the one of Tony Stark that came from being only an average man to a hero that will inspire millions in the future.."

Tony's eyes widen as you start showing holograms of moments of his life in the air, showing every moment of his life to Loki. The god looks and listens attentively as he plays with the coin in his hand, toying with Tony's soul. However, he seems to take it seriously and looks at each moment with great interest. You are more than happy to answer every question he asks and add.

" I must confess that Tony Stark was and is an incredible man that devoted his life to helping others..even if sometimes he was lost or misguided..He always had the best intentions at heart..You, of all people, should know what the fear of failure feels like.."

You try to appeal to his own history for him to feel pity for Tony, but the god of Mischief knows when someone is trying to play with his feelings and only asks with a small tremor in his voice that sounds like a reproach.

" However, Tony never had any beliefs. His only god is money and that he spent on very trivial things..Plus, he had the audacity to think himself a god, Zeus above his friends that he also considered above anyone else..Why should he get to spend his life in bliss when all he ever did was to mock anyone around him and have very big illusions of grandeur !"

You bite your lower lip, you couldn't say that what he was saying is wrong..However..

" However, he never used his money for destruction, he always had the greater good in mind when using it. He also made sure that Peter Parker don't focus on money to accomplish his goals.."

Loki only laughs before searching for one of his memories and projecting it for everyone to see..It was the man. The man that had helped him build his first suit and that had died, even though Tony had promised to save him..

" You tell me about his accomplishments..but what about his failures ? He sacrificed that man. He made a promise and broke it. How are you going to justify that ?"

You clench your jaw in obvious frustration, knowing that Loki was provoking you. Even if he had no grudge against Tony, he still had the ego the size of the Empire State building and more..He wouldn't let go so easily. You glance at Tony that is looking at the short movie of his life with tears in his eyes..He had surely forgotten about him, or he hadn't ? You couldn't tell..

" That man tried to save Tony..It is not his fault if he died while doing so. He saved many like him afterwards and never asked for anything in return..He always thought that the security of his friends and family was above everything else."

Loki stands up at your reply in disagreement and grits his teeths before reaching for another memory.

" Are you sure about that ?"

You frown at his question before you see the moment he had invented Ultron..

" He created that knowledge monster and, even with the green man's warnings, didn't listen to what was safest..Now, do you think he really always had the purest intentions at heart ?"

He is one tough cookie, you'd give him that..You search in Tony's memories to get the vision he had when Wanda manipulated his mind and show his worse nightmare, the Avengers all dead.

" This, this is his worst nightmare. You have to admit that it is proof of the value of his comrades to his eyes..like Asgardians, he fought side by side with his friends and would have died for them..as he did."

However, Loki doesn't back down and finally yells in frustration.

" HE HELPED MY BROTHER TO PLOT MY DEMISE !"

You ark and eyebrow at that before replying, your arms crossed.

" Well..I don't see how's that of any relevance to him being a bad man.."

Flabbergasted by your words, he stares at you with tears in his eyes before sitting back down, visibly shocked at your answer. But, you know that he is thinking about it..You smile and look up at him to announce.

" This is why, I ask you to welcome Tony Stark to the great beyond, or at least let him work his way there !"

At your words, his eyes flash at you with a certain interest.

" Go on.."

Your smile widens. You know that Loki would not let Tony enter if he hadn't been trained before.

" Make him a corrector. Allow him to correct his mistakes and apologize to all those he wronged.."

Loki seems to consider it for a moment and, finally nods.

" I'll allow it, however, I'll also accept him in Valhalla directly.."

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his sudden act of mercy..but you quickly understand when he adds with a small smirk.

"..If Tony accepts to kneel in front of me."

You close your eyes, knowing already the reaction of Tony that doesn't waste any time voicing his disagreement.

" Dream on, goat head !"

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose and turning towards Tony that still had his mouth wide open, ready to protest. You want to intervene, but Loki does it for you as he suddenly stands up again and grits his teeths at Tony before ordering.

" Kneel ! Or you can say goodbye to your soul !"

You open your eyes wide in fear as he starts crackling the coin in his palm. You turn towards Tony that feels as if he was being crushed himself. You then look back at Loki before yelling at him.

" The trial is not over, your Highness ! You have no right..!"

He glares murderously at you before cutting you short by laughing maniacally.

" That's where you're wrong ! I have every right !"

You look between the two men with panic seizing your whole being before sighing and getting out a lasso. You use it to grab Loki's arm and yank him on the floor, letting go of the coin by the same occasion that starts rolling before stooping just in front of you. You take it in your hand and Loki looks up at you with his jaw clenched and eyes red with fury. However, you don't let yourself be intimidated and take him by the collar to drag him back to his throne.

" You'll regret this.."

He whispers in your ear and you only laugh at his threat before tying him up to the throne.

" There are many things that I fear in this world..But, prince Loki, you aren't one of them.."

You can feel him tense at your words, but still put back the coin in his hand with a small smile.

" Now..I know that my existence is a mistake and that your huge ego can't handle the fact that a mere woman is keeping you still..But, there is no reason for you to deny Tony his afterlife. You said it yourself, he was a worthy opponent and never wielded, even once. He is prideful, a recognition seeker and a liar..But he is also the Iron Man, the man of steel who defeated far more powerful beings than you..I didn't tell you how he died, but I think I should.."

You suddenly turn around and extend your arms to show two things..One is the day Tony died, and the other..when Loki did.

He looks at the images with wide eyes and, even after seeing it over and over, can't believe it..He had died. And Tony had avenged him. He almost laughs at his choice of word: avenge. He looks up at Tony with a new-found respect and Tony doesn't shy away from his gaze that he meets with determination. Loki then glances at the coin in his hand before throwing it at you..it lands on tails and you smile widely at Loki that nods in affirmation.

" I'll allow it..I'll allow him to enter by the doors of Valhalla to the other side. However, as agreed, Tony Stark will have to serve as a corrector for as long as it takes for him to understand the true repercussions of his mistakes, it means until I allow him to pass..Are we clear ?"

He looks down at you intently and you nod vehemently, happy to have saved his soul. Tony himself can't seem to believe it and looks shocked as he looks at you. You can't help but smile widely at him and he reciprocates. You then turn towards Loki and, to his surprise, bow down to him.

" Thank you, your Highness."

He then coughs loudly, making your head shoot up and realize that he was still..well, attached. You blush widely before clapping your hands and the magical lasso loosens to get back around your waist. Loki stares intensely at you and you feel cold sweat rolling down your back. You swiftly turn around to grab Tony and get out of the throne room, too afraid that he would ask for your name and report you to the High Council..When you're far enough, Tony suddenly takes you in his arms and twirls you around to your surprise.

" We did it ! I'll be able to see my wife and kid again ! Thank you so much !"

You can't help but giggle as he spins you around and when he finally puts you down, he frowns, his brain working full on as he seems to realize something.

" You helped me and were so angry at the fact that I had wasted my time..even though you now seem so happy that I made it..Who are you, really ?"

You let out a small sad smile as you look back at him with your eyes filled with tears. You should have known he would guess it eventually..

" I love you 3000.."

You finally mutter and his eyes widen as he understands and his own eyes prickle with tears as he gently runs his hand against your cheek.

" You're..?"

You nod and take a step back to smile at him through your tears.

" It was nice to meet you, dad."

He tries to hold back his tears before taking you in his arms.

" You've grown so much..How..How are you here ? You're not dead, are you ?!"

He asks worriedly, looking at you as if for the first time and you chuckle at his fatherly concern.

" No, Dad..I became a corrector because I wanted to meet you..Some are humans. I asked uncle Thor to make me one."

He nods, and then remembers that you have access to all of his memories..For the first time today, Tony Stark feels a pang of guilt in his chest.

" You must have felt ashamed of your old man, huh ?"

He asks and you smile kindly at him before answering him truthfully.

" I must admit that multiple times, I asked myself if it was good for the rest of humanity to let you live..that I wasn't being selfish in wanting to save you, but, at the end, I knew that you would become a great man..And, you did."

He smiles proudly at you before kissing your forehead lovingly.

" I'm sorry for not being there, sweetheart..I really am."

You shake your head and wipe your tears before answering him with a hopeful smile.

" It's okay..At least, I'll be able to spend time with you, until your final departure at least.."

He smiles at you, understanding now why you wanted him to become a corrector so bad and takes you in his arms again.

" That's my daughter. Scheming plans to spend time with the old man..Stark material, I tell you."

You can't help but snort at his comment while tightening your grip on him and finally closing your eyes in contempt.

" I love you 3000, dad.."

You feel his lips etch into a smile against your skin as he answers back.

" I love you 3000 too, kiddo.."

#fandoms #marvel #tony stark #iron man #loki laufeyson #the avengers

[dontcare77ghj]

Queens and King

Steve x reader x Peggy

Requested by @storiesbystarlight

When you were a girl, your father assured you, daily, you were born to be Queen. Your line was chosen by Odin himself, and as long as your father's blood ran through your veins, no-one could ever take that from you.

Your mother died when you were a babe, sweating sickness your governess told you, and your father never remarried after her death. Leaving you as his sole heir. 

As the future Queen of the kingdom, you were put in classes from a young age. Taught every skill a ruler would need to succeed. 

For the most part, your childhood was a lonely one. With no siblings to play with and a strict governess who refused to allow you to skip one lesson, you rarely left the castle.

The only time you were allowed to interact with any children your own age was when Lord's and Ladies would bring their children to court.

While you made some friends and many allies, the two you held closest to your heart were Steve and Peggy.

Peggy, born Margret, was the daughter of the English ambassador. Peggy would often travel with her father as she was training to take the role over one day.

Steve was Steven and the son of Lord Rogers. As Steve would inherit his father's mantle eventually, his father dragged him to court for most of the year.

The three of you were always close, even as you aged and became the people your parents had decided you would be. 

And so it was no surprise to your inner circle when they found out the true nature of your relationship.

The three of you had been together since you were all sixteen. For half your lives now, the three of you had dedicated yourselves to each other. 

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

After dismissing your ladies-in-waiting and informing the guards you were not to be disturbed for the night, you let out a long sigh. You had just entered your bedchamber and were undoing your hair when you stopped in your tracks.

"And just what?" You began, gaining the attention of the two on your bed. "Do you two think you're doing starting without me?" You questioned the two with a raised brow.

"You were taking too long," Peggy said, standing and making her way toward you. "We were bored." She said, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Hm-hmm." You hummed, looking over at Steve. "Did she seduce you, Stevie?" You teased, crooking your finger at him.

"You know how hard I find it to say no to either of you," Steve admitted, standing and walking towards you. 

"Is that a challenge?" You questioned him.

"It sounds like a challenge to me." Peggy agreed.

"How did I know the two of you would believe I was challenging you?" Steve sighed.

"I'm Queen. Everything is a challenge." You shrugged a shoulder.

"Our poor darling." Peggy cooed. "Perhaps we should help relieve the burden upon your shoulders." She suggested, dusting her fingers along your shoulders.

"I believe that is a fantastic course of action, Peg," Steve said, wrapping his arms around both your waists.

"Distract me, my loves."

"I had another proposal today," Peggy mentioned. "Lord Pierce asked if I would think about wedding his son."

"And what did you say?" You questioned, drawing circles on her hipbone.

"I told him where to shove it." Peggy snorted. "He proposed his bastard to me, a bastard who openly despises women in power. I'm also with the two of you, so there's really no contest."

"Good."

"I too have had to respectfully decline several proposals recently," Steve admitted. "It seems now that I have filled out women notice I exist."

"Well, they can't have you," Peggy said, leaning up to kiss the blonde. 

"Is everything okay, Y/N?" Steve questioned you.

"Lord Stark approached me on my way here." You admitted. "He said the council wishes I were to accept marriage and give them a King or Queen. Tony said I either accept one of the many proposals or announce our relationship."

"Do you wish me to approach him tomorrow?" Steve asked you.

"No, Tony's harmless. We both know that." You shook your head. "I've already told him and the council I won't accept one of their proposals."

"Then what are you going to do?" Peggy questioned you.

"I was going to see what you thought of me announcing our relationship." You told her. "And perhaps furthering it. I wanted to ask the two of you to marry me. We love each other, we always have, and it might put an end to all those unwanted proposals."

"The people wouldn't like it. We're not of your station." Steve told you.

"The people love you, both of you." You said, sitting up in the bed. "I've never seen either of you as anything but my equals. And to be frank, when it comes to the two of you, I don't care what the people think of my relationship."

"And the court? You know the members of the court will talk more than anyone else." Peggy pointed out. "It could hurt your reputation."

"Who cares the pointless gossip the court spreads? We all know it's toxic. There is nothing they can say that will ever hurt me." You scoffed. "So I have this to ask of you, will you please do me the honor of becoming my husband and wife?" You asked of your lovers. "Whatever your answer, I will respect it, as I have always respected the two of you."

"Yes," Peggy said. "I will marry you." She told you, leaning over to gently kiss you.

"Steve?" You asked, turning to face the blonde.

"I've never given a damn about public opinion," Steve smirked. "Let them say what they will." He said, gently cupping your face and bringing you into a kiss.

"My lords and ladies," You began, rising from your throne elegantly. "Your graces, and your excellencies, I have called you all here today to make an announcement.

For many years now, I have ruled alone. And yet today, I stand before you to announce my greatest happiness. Today I announce my engagement to Ambassador Carter and Lord Rogers." You said, gesturing Peggy and Steve to come to stand beside you as the court whispered amongst themselves.

Holding your hand up, you waited for the court to silence before continuing.

"Come spring, the three of us will be wed, and Ambassador Carter will become my Queen as Lord Rogers will become my King." You informed the court.

"Lord Stark, Your Majesty." A servant announced as Tony entered the room.

"Tony, what can I do for you?" You asked, rising to a stand to greet your friend.

"I have news for you," Tony said, taking a seat at your desk.

"Good or bad?" You asked as a servant poured the two of you glasses of wine.

"Lord Rumlow has taken the recent news of your courtship badly," Tony admitted. "He seems to think you should have sought a marriage with his nephew as he has a claim to the throne already."

"Rumlow's discontentment with my rule is nothing new, Tony. You've never bothered me with his opinions before. Why now?" You quizzed the man.

"Rumlow has allied with Pierce. The two wish to petition your courtship with parliament."

"Excuse me?"

"According to my spies, they believe your relationships with both Ambassador Carter and Lord Rogers are against the laws," Tony informed you. 

"This is ridiculous." You bitterly laughed as you stood from your seat. "Pierce's standing is as low as it could. What does Rumlow gain from his support?"

"From what've I heard they wish to marry his nephew off to Pierce's daughter."

"Why? What does this union bring them?"

"An heir," Tony informed you bluntly. "They seem to believe if you refuse to break off your relationship with Carter and Rogers, they could overthrow you and place Rumlow's nephew on the throne."

"It's treason to think about such things." You shook your head, beginning to pace behind the desk.

"As your friend, may I make a suggestion?" Tony asked, continuing when you nodded at him. "Do not do anything now."

"Don't do anything?" You questioned him. 

"Do nothing. Do not publicly say anything against them and do not approach either of them." Tony nodded.

"Tony, you have always been of good council to me, but this, I don't know if I can sit back and allow the two to ruin my engagement or overthrow me. This is my throne." You said. "This was my father's throne and his before him. I can't be the one to lose it."

"It is your throne, and it will be until your last breath," Tony promised you. "But I have a plan that will allow you to keep your throne, Peggy, Steve, and permanently ruin the reputations of both Rumlow and Pierce. By the time we're done with them, they will never be able to return to court."

"Alright." You sighed, taking your seat and looking at your friend. "My ears are open."

"And you're sure this will work?" Peggy asked you that night. She was laying in your bed with Steve behind her as you sat at the vanity, undoing your hair.

"I do." You nodded. "I trust Tony and his opinions. He's more often right than not." You added, rising to a stand and moving towards your fiances.

"Be that as it may, Rumlow is a snake. A slippery one at that." Steve mentioned as you climbed into bed. "We just don't want you to be blindsided by his tactics."

"I know all too well how tricky Rumlow is. Just as I know, Pierce is not be underestimated either." You said, shaking your head. "I promise I am being careful. We've planned everything out meticulously."

"I hope you have," Peggy murmured. "Because if you were to lose your throne because of us, I would never forgive myself."

"It's true I would feel great shame at being the one to lose the throne Odin chose for my line. But it would not plague me. Without the two of you, my life is a lonely one. I would gladly give up my crown to be with you both." You admitted.

"You shouldn't say that. You are a great Queen. The people need you." Steve said, taking your hand.

"And I need you." You confessed in a small voice. "I can't do this alone. You've always been my rocks. You have been for as long as I can remember. I cannot fathom living this life, doing all this, and not having the two of you at the end of the day. And I understand it's a selfish ideal, but it's true." You told them, taking Peggy's hand as well. "I am not as strong as you think. You are my strength. Both of you are. I love you."

"And we love you too," Peggy said, turning your head towards her and kissing you firmly. "We lean on you as much as you do with us."

"And you are our strength," Steve added, repeating Peggy's actions. "We have always trusted your actions and your decisions, and that will not change now," Steve said as Peggy nodded.

"Good because I can't do this without you." You sighed.

"Especially not this." Peggy joked, lightening the tension of the room.

"You look gorgeous," Peggy said from behind you. Looking up in the mirror, you saw both Peggy and Steve approaching you.

"As do you." You smiled. "And you look handsome as ever, Stevie." You added as they stood behind you.

"Thank you, my Queen," Steve teased, leaning down to kiss you lightly.

"As much as I love to see you both, you do know it's bad luck for us to be seeing one another now, right?" You questioned the two.

"The Goddess of luck has always smiled upon us before. There should be no reason for her to change her mind now." Steve shrugged.

"I suppose you're right." You hummed.

"Besides, I think we've broken too many 'rules' at this time to worry now." Peggy shrugged.

"Now, that is accurate." You laughed as Steve shook his head.

"Are you ready for this, sweetheart?" Steve asked you after a second had passed.

"I've been ready since I was a girl." You brightly smiled at the two.

"Then we shouldn't wait any longer, should we?" Peggy asked, taking your hand and helping you stand.

"No, we shouldn't." You agreed as the three of you walked towards the doors of the chamber.

Everything was about to change.

"Your majesty." Rumlow bowed lowly, as did Pierce beside him.

"Lord Rumlow. Lord Pierce." You acknowledged the two with a nod of your head. "May I introduce you to my Queen, Margret, and my King, Steven." You gestured to your partners, who were sitting either side of you.

"Your majesties." Rumlow greeted, his face turning a slight shade of red. "I thought the nuptials were planned for Spring."

"They were." You nodded. "However, my sources informed me that if I were to wait any longer, traitors to the crown would try to take my thrown from me."

"What villain would think such a thing?" Pierce asked his face a pale shade of white.

"Indeed." You hummed. "So the three of us wed yesterday afternoon with my inner circle present." You told him, nodding to Tony, Knights Natasha, and Clint, as well as Court Physician Bruce.

"Congratulations, your majesty." Rumlow forced out through gritted teeth.

"Thank you. Now, my lords, would you care to tell the rest of the court exactly what you were planning?" You asked as Steve and Peggy smirked when your guards surrounded Pierce and Rumlow.

"Your majesty?"

"Your letters were intercepted." You said as said letters were passed to you. "Lords and Ladies of the court, lords Rumlow and Pierce were trying to usurp my reign." You announced, causing the court to whisper amongst themselves. "The two plotted to petition my engagement on the grounds of illegality. There is no specific law in this kingdom that relates to what the gender or number of people in a relationship should be. There never has been. The letters we intercepted spoke of replacing me with Rumlow's nephew and Pierce's daughter, and that is treason. As punishment, both Rumlow and Pierce will be stripped of their lands and titles and placed into the dungeons."

"You can't do this!" Rumlow yelled as the guards grabbed both him and Pierce.

"They will remain in the dungeons until I find a punishment I deem worthy." You continued, ignoring the shouting man. "Furthermore, their wealth will be distributed to all the villages and towns of this kingdom. It will be shared equally among the less fortunate of my realm." You told the court as Rumlow and Pierce were dragged out of the room.

The court descended into a flurry of whispers. Rising to a stand, you silently watched as the court dropped into silence, waiting for you.

"I am Y/N L/N. I am the daughter of F/N L/N. This is my kingdom. This is my family's lineage. I have served all of you for near on two decades, and I will continue to do so until my own heirs are ready to inherit this throne from me. These heirs will be the children of my King and Queen." You said, gesturing for the two to join you. "This country is in my heart, as it is in your new Queen and King. I hope you remember today for years to come." You said, walking towards the doors with Peggy and Steve at your side.

"You did well," Steve whispered into your ear.

"As you usually do," Peggy murmured.

"Let's hope the message sticks." You hummed to your husband and wife.

It did. The message stuck in the hearts of the nobles and spread to the people. 

It had been six years since you married the loves of life, six years since they were crowned at your side. And it had been five years since you gave birth to your daughter and another three since your son entered the world.

Your shared reign had been a peaceful one. There were no wars, no uprisings, and no plague or famine. It almost seemed too perfect, but you were not one to look the Goddess of luck in the face.

"My Queen, what has you thinking so hard?" Steve asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. The three of you were in your shared chambers, relishing in the fact there were no pressing matters of the court to attend to.

"Nothing pressing." You swore, leaning back into his chest. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."

"Are you sure you're the lucky one and not us?" Peggy asked, rising gracefully from the bed.

"Positive." You hummed. "There is not a luckier person in the kingdom than I."

"I think we could find a luckier woman," Steve said.

"And man," Peggy added. "Perhaps all you need is to be persuaded." She teased, standing in front of you and embracing you and Steve.

A grin crossed your face as you looked between your lovers.

"Persuade me, my King and Queen."

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[blankdblank]

Poke Pt 7 - Yacht Party

…

Whistling in the exit of your closet Eddie took in your own toga reminiscent style dress the bright white sheer layered skirt was slit up to the upper thigh and met the golden belt that separated the base from the lace top. With thick straps in white and a low dip in the cleavage almost to the belly button that flowed out to reveal the golden glittery heels you had chosen for the event. “Wow. You need a sign to remind gentlemen to pick their jaws up off the floor.”

“Funny,” you teased, folding a stretchy pair of shorts to cover the thigh holsters for a couple of your daggers for worst case scenario that also would help keep guys from peeking up your skirt if the wind blew the slit back too widely. “I’m sure no one will care about my dress as I death grip the wall.”

“I can skip the trip to prison if you need me there.”

“I’m ok. If I feel bad I am not above fainting or breaking into hysterics to have Tony himself fly me home. Or maybe Prince Thor, I think he can fly if he has his hammer.”

“You can beat this evening. I know you can.”

After a hug for him you said, “You’ll miss visiting hours.” And he chuckled hugging you back and kissed you on your cheek taking notice of the one side of your hair braided back so you could flip the rest over to your left side knowing the boat would drive it wild no matter what you tried to do with it.

The ride didn’t calm things and from the concrete pathway to the wooden docks your focus shifted in a means to calm yourself on the pelicans and gulls who watched your stroll beyond the guards at the entrance who took your invitation shared the lit pathway would guide you to the proper ship. At the base of the plank bridge to get onto the yacht you paused hearing the guests already aboard.

Mid stare at a gull hovering above the boat in a try to focus on anything but the fact you would be out on the open ocean for who knows how long you flinched to look at Sam in his step up to your side with an impressed whistle. “My sister would die of envy seeing this ship. She loves to sail.” His eyes landed on you asking, “Ever been on a boat like this?”

“I’ve been on ferries, but I haven’t been over the open ocean yet.”

“You’ll be okay. Stark’s probably built this thing himself. Bound to be unsinkable.”

“Well, there’s a history of unsinkable ships that beg to differ when it comes to that claim.”

He chuckled and said, “We’ll be just fine. Just in case,” he said showing his duffel bag at his side holding his metal wings, “Brought my wings, things go south The Falcon’s got you.” To yourself you grinned and followed him up into the monstrosity of a boat.

Surely one that would make your ancestors weep, not just for the luxurious ability to have food storage, running clean water and plumbing but for the fact that nothing of the earth other than the single fallen tree stump of an end table was here. The wood was fake same as the faux leather seats and imitation marble finish on the metal surfaces. Nothing of this boat showed the respect boat makers used to put into building sea faring vessels to keep from displeasing the Gods in crossing the tumultuous open ocean and you guessed that might be why they always bothered you.

With legs crossed you sat with eyes fixed on the open ocean in your second level seat unable to keep on your feet to mingle in the crowded floor below. “Thirsty?” the voice at your side brought the sudden place of Prince Loki there with two drinks in hand, one of which with a pacifier band around the stem of the fruity blended drink he offered to you. “The bartender insisted I offer you this one.”

Unable to help it you chuckled and accepted the drink, “It’s a virgin margarita. Thank you.”

“What would maidenhood have to do with drink offers?” he asked and you glanced away to keep from spitting your sip of the drink on him. “Is it repulsive? I shall demand a new drink to replace it.”

You shook your head and giggled in catching his eye to say, “Virgin, when related to drinks means alcohol free.” And his eyes narrowed, “It’s illegal for people under 21 years old to drink alcohol in this country. Others it ranges from 14 to 18 depending on their culture.”

“Why would they have such variation?”

“Because hardly any of the countries share the same faiths, histories, cultures or beliefs on how they should be governed. So just stubbornness and idiocy.”

“I had hoped the drink would aid in a welcome of my company, you seemed troubled when I arrived.”

Softly you chuckled and replied, “Quite humorously for my bloodline I have a fear of open ocean outside of wooden boats.” His eyes locked onto yours in a moment of shock, “There’s no earth in this boat. Vikings paid homage to the Gods for smooth sailing across the oceans. Might just be me.”

And he grinned your way stating, “Not only you. Those who can hear Yggdrasil have higher expectations when it comes to vessels. Your ancestors would be proud you wish to honor their traditions, the ocean is not a fair mistress, she is an insurmountable warrior, she demands respect.”

“How have your candles and soaps been?” You asked to change the subject, uncertain of what meaning his lingering stare into your eyes meant.

“Quite exquisite. Thank you again for your care in crafting the mixtures for us to our likings. Your customers have been favorable of temperament?”

“For the most part. Before the shoes Natasha and Steve bought me I got shunned a bit because of my clearly worn name brand shoes, but the new ones have helped to give me a bit of credit to my image. Used to be called an immigrant and now people are asking if I’m paying my dues in the entertainment or beauty world until I get my big break. When Stark came in I almost thought he would just order enough to use that as a means to force me to accept the money he offered.”

“What should it matter what shoes you wear when you are working?”

“The shop has an image to uphold for their most superficial of clientele.”

“Should they ever release you from employment alert my brother and myself and we shall raze the building to cinders.” That had you giggle around your next sip and he said, “You doubt my loyalty.”

“Not at all, Prince Loki. Merely I question how Stark would handle the discovery of who was behind the attack after he’s vetted you both as Heroes.”

“Not one person in my lifetime has been foolish enough to dub me a Hero. I am the God of Mischief and Deceit.”

His eyes lowered to the hand you offered him that his rose palm up to accept, “Fool, right here, pleasure to meet you.” To himself he chuckled and smiled in a glance away. “See, that smile,” he glanced back and chuckled again as you said, “Pure sunshine. You can’t convince me there’s evil in there no matter how many times you stab your brother.”

“I unleashed an army on New  York,”

“Oh who hasn’t unleashed havoc on New York. Havoc is the new pink pumps of the season, everybody has to have some. New York, Washington, California, your brother leveled a town in New  Mexico. Now you go and attack Rhode Island or someplace small like that then we can talk crossing into unthinkable territory, which is seven miles below evil. You have to earn evil.”

He smirked and at the notice he was still holding your hand he released it to take hold of his drink for a sip to break his stare only to look down at that hand resting on his knee when the boat began to pull away from the dock. “I murdered my birth father.” He blurted out as if to try and not lie to you or make you believe he was anything but evil as most from his planet thought.

“Did he raise you?”

“No.”

“Were you close or just a birthday card once a year type of situation?”

“He abandoned me at birth in a frozen tundra in the midst of a battle between the Jotuns and Asgardians and never acknowledged me as his child or that I even existed.”

You nodded and said, “Selfish quim had it coming then.” Throatily to your sip of your drink he chuckled and bubbled into a few moments of unforgiving laughter. “I’d pick Frigg as a mother any day over that bastard.”

“King Laufey of the Jotuns, or Frost Giants, as some nations dub them.”

“Odin’s half Frost Giant in the legends. They knew each other?”

“Odin,” his eyes fell on you, “Father is half Frost Giant in the legends?” You nodded and he said, “He never speaks of this if it is true.”

“Well he’s probably jealous.” You said and his brow twitched up, “If it was between me and you to be Jotun I’d stay mum simply because you have to be the peak example of Jotun prowess.”

“Asgardians tell bedtime stories of Jotuns to terrify their children and frighten them to behave or they will be eaten.” He said mournfully and looked out at the sea.

“I’d start biting people then.” You said and in the spread of his smile you said, “Always a monster till you’re necessary. How the universe works. The odd one, the new one, that one who doesn’t belong. Till they need you, till they’re scared. So much easier to be scared of the new than to trust it. Well I trust you,” you said and he caught your eye again, “And you can’t stop me. I’m stark raving mad with power and will cackle in their disbelieving faces for not trusting pure sunshine.” You said with a wide smile making him chuckle again.

“Are you certain there is no alcohol in that drink?” He teased.

“Just tons of sugar.” You said taking another giggle laced sip as he took a sip of his own drink. “I heard you’re over seventeen hundred years old? How does that line up to our age progression? If that isn’t too personal.”

“Roughly similar to your age I would presume. Young adulthood.”

You gasped and said, “And they gave you alcohol, someone get this man a pacifier.” You said teasingly turning your head to call it out making him chuckle and simply use his arm closest to you to prop himself up to scoot closer.

“Shh,” he whispered through a chuckle by your ear and you giggled again. “There is little substance on this planet able to inebriate myself and my brother.” He said with his eyes focused on yours when you turned your head slightly to catch his bright gaze and smile.

The ship took a wide turn and your joking mood waned and his hand covered yours at the returned grip of his knee to lace his fingers under your palm, and next to your ear he asked, “How would you like to play a game?” You caught his gaze and he grinned nodding his head at the crowd stating, “Say a name.” He watched your eyes dance over the women in toga influenced gowns surrounded by men in both togas and white and golden suits and you chose one from the back that with a flash of green in his eyes had the man start to dance absurdly awkward luring out your smile and giggle again.

Innocent fun, insignificant playful pranks that had Prince Thor search for his brother in the crowds until he spotted him at your side with his hand on yours. Loki would never have openly chosen such a public display with anyone he dared to imagine courtship until proper tasks of approval had been sought for and by the clear try to not let you have a break to focus on anything but his magic. And the game upon his knowing Thor was looking his way had the Prince conjuring fables and joking tales in front of the possibly distressed young Shieldmaiden he would never dream of damaging her honor. Something was bothering their young respected friend and his brother while Thor saw to his sea wary Mate was distracting his chosen companion for the evening in a far more acceptable use of his magic at this party.

Some food was sampled from the migrating attendees made from faceless drones that somehow had you more weirded out than the ship. One of which that had Peter hanging on his back while it held a bucket and led him to lie down on the couch beside the pair of you. The move had you inch closer to the Prince and had his gaze drop to the thigh pressed against his to something hard he felt tap the side of his leg. He felt himself unable to help but smirk at the clear hilt of a dagger poking out from underneath the shorts that blended into your skirt from afar in its same brilliant white shade. And in a low purr beside your ear as you handed over your empty glass to a drone to free a hand so you could check Peter’s temperature the Prince asked, “Please tell me that’s a dagger on your thigh.”

With a blush to the green mist that eased the hilt of two coiled snakes in bright silver into view widening his grin as he caught sight of the full design. And he could imagine the blade in his mind by the hint of metal beneath the hilt his mist hid away again as Pepper hurried over with some sea sickness medicine. “Where else would I keep it?” you whispered back widening his grin to the point he nipped at his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Pepper in her trot up to Peter’s side offered him a fizzing drink he accepted and took your help to prop himself up to sip on it, “Here you go Peter.” And her eyes rose to you asking, “Are you sea sick too? I haven’t seen you on the main floor since we took off.”

“I’ve got a thing with metal boats in open ocean,” her lips parted, “I’m good sitting. Body just prefers wood boats it seems. Prince Loki’s been distracting me.”

“Well if you need anything let us know.”

“Does he make a lot of these drones?”

Pepper sighed saying, “It’s a new thing. He said he’d make them faceless since I thought fake humanoid ones might bother me, but these aren’t any better, sadly.”

“Because he does know about all the evidence on making AI’s and how devastatingly bad that could go?”

“I remind him daily. Only, seems he forgets, daily. Progress,” she said shaking her head and rising to her feet to go check on another person muttering, “This party is the stuff of nightmares with these waves.”

In a glance at Loki you asked, “If Stark builds AI’s can I plead asylum on Asgard?”

He smirked asking, “AI?”

“Robots with free will. Always turns out that they want to destroy the human race. Borderline Ragnarok for our race.”

“Should there be any danger to this planet we will grant you asylum. I give you my word.”

“How important are potatoes on your planet? Because if they don’t grow there I will be smuggling some there. My ancestors didn’t get to enjoy them in the older generations, but I know they look down on me in envy. Even broke I eat like a King.” Making him chuckle again. “I’m serious, one of the best foods discovered on this planet is the potato.”

“Potatoes are amazing,” Peter sighed after finishing his drink and laying flat again. “I would bring lemons. My aunt gets this big smile when she sees lemons. I don’t get it, but it makes her happy. And I’d have to bring her too of course.”

Loki smiled saying, “We have six variations of potatoes and four lemon breeds. The pair of you and young Peter’s aunt would be amply pleased.”

“Could I have a sheep? My parents promised to get me a sheep when I was bigger. Or is it mainly city spaces without any room for cottages?”

“We have a mixture of both. A quaint cottage could be arranged, or a plot of garden and field to keep your sheep in should you prefer an apartment in the Palace. With ample workers to help train you in treatment and sheering of your sheep when necessary.”

In a giggle you replied, “I would need sheep lessons.” Making him chuckle as well.

At their sides save for a trip to the bathroom you remained until the boat docked again and Loki rose to gently help you up and lead both you and still unsteady Peter to the dock. The assigned car to drive you back however found him reluctantly in release of the hand his had been fixed in for hours now. “Thank you, for the asylum and the sheep,” you said in words that muffled in the ears of the Prince whose cheek you had left a peck upon. “Sleep well, Sunshine.” You said and in a lower to sit inside the car.

“Sleep well and safe on the earth, Shieldmaiden Pear.”

.

Vision. The newest Avenger had his face plastered across the internet and all you could think of was the promise the Asgardian Prince had made you and it just made your stomach turn. He was so polite and out of everybody he could have spent his time with he seemed to gravitate to your company. Even when a long train ride let you take a long stroll in Central Park that had you run into the Super Soldiers and Sam on a run. When the Zoo was mentioned the Princes seemed to appear in mid air and as if to counter Bucky’s time with your attention another animal would be pointed to and his questions would arise all aimed your direction.

End to end between your fingers your Mate button box was flipped to tap against the counter easing the slide of your fingers to the bottom to aid the lift and flip of the box to do it again. No matter why he was focusing on you there had to be a line and you couldn’t stop hiding from your fears of finding out who your Mate was by humoring the attentions of the Avengers. Onto the counter you settled the button box and gave the button a single tap that almost an hour away had Loki’s eyes twitch off his book confirming he was alone in his gifted apartment followed by an irritated grumble and nestle back into his spot to ignore the unhelpful poke of his Mate from this infuriating planet.

Several taps more in a notice of the muffin bag you had gotten from a café earlier that had you murmur, “Let’s meet for coffee at the Blue Bird Café. Nine AM.” Your fingers tapped before you could think it through just how many could understand Morse Code this day and age, you just had to try and see if anyone would turn up.

And just like you knew it deep down, no one did, at nine or ten when you had finished off pretending to write out something in your pocket journal after you’d finished your first cider and just wanted to go anywhere but there.

 *

Glaring as he made his way to the group lunch after a much needed breakfast alone Loki plopped into his seat and turned his gaze to Natasha at her asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Ten minutes my Mate poked me last night, ten minutes. All in some absurd pattern,” Loki repeated the pattern with the tip of his finger on the table and had her, Bucky and Bruce listening to the meanings of the taps.

Bucky however asked the question the others didn’t, “So did you meet your Mate for coffee?”

Loki glared at him, “I beg your pardon?”

Bruce, “That’s Morse Code. Old school. Must have been eager to meet you rarely hear of people using it these days outside of military or science families.”

Loki asked in a slightly panicked tone, “Where would I meet them?”

Bucky said, “Blue Bird Café, nine am.”

Loki didn’t have to look at the clock but said in his rush from the table, “It’s half past noon!”

He didn’t know where that was but he knew who to talk to to get into Stark’s system. Knowing fully he had links to cameras everywhere. “Red Man, I require your assistance.”

“I am Vision, Green Noble.” The Prince led the way to one of the public labs that linked to his system that Loki linked into the simple online page of the only Blue Bird Café in New York that was located in Queens.

“I need you to help me use Stark’s system to see who was in this café this morning.”

“Are we searching for a culprit in a crime you are aware of?” Vision asked in his hover beside the Prince.

“My Mate used Morse Code to send me a message I did not understand last night and I missed the meeting they tried to arrange. I wish to know who I have spurned to offer my apologies and win back their favor.”

“Oh, very admirable then.” He said lowering as he said, “I am under the understanding that a Mate is the strongest bond you might find in your lifetime. I anxiously await my eighteenth year to have earned my own chance to meet mine.” Raising his hand to link to the system that began to shift the screen windows to delve through the system to first link into the café’s security and the street cameras to watch every person from eight am onwards.

“Pluto,” Loki muttered in the sight of you wearing an anxious expression and a slightly less casual dress entering the café, ordering a drink and muffin with glances at the door to every entrance in a clearly sinking mood as Vision continued to run facial recognition through a database while the video played.

Vision said, “From the 47 customers 24 are legally married and another 17 have announced themselves as engaged on their social media accounts.”

“Pluto Pear, that woman. When did she leave exactly?” Visio read back the time stamp and he said, “I need a print out of this list, I’m going to start with her.”

Vision asked to the print of the page behind him, “Does the young lady hold a certain physical appeal for you to begin with her?”

“I know her. I would never wish for her to believe I have left her there alone. As if I had refused to meet her on the grounds of being my Mate.”

Vision said, “Ah. Then yes, begin with the young Miss Pear.” He said offering the printed sheet that Loki accepted and hurried with rushed thanks in his race out to go and the whole while his mind raced with a single repetition, it had to be you.

Truly for months now any excuse to cross paths was taken including a laughable amount of candles and soap with films, trips out between your shifts and group meals he always made certain to be chaperoned for everyone’s comfort and for your honor the Prince searched. You were the one to make him laugh and find some sense of ease on this planet with a person who seemed to genuinely care about his comfort and tried to keep him from growing too homesick or thoughts on his lineage to spoil his wishes to ever return. If you weren’t his Mate he never desired to meet the person who dared to poke him. He didn’t want to be forced onto anyone else, he had subconsciously chosen you for a while now and would continue to do so.

 *

Three knocks soon bled to five and before the sixth could land you had opened your front door to the wide eyed Prince who rapidly opened his fist to an awkward wave. “Miss Pear. Might I come in?”

“Sure,” you said letting him inside closing the door behind him in his awkward check of the single room apartment with a lingering gaze at the boat shaped bed he pointed to mid amused smirk. “My first year here there was a play they used that as a prop in and put it up cheap for sale after it closed. Really comfy.” You looked him over and asked, “You have to go on another mission? Only seen you twitchy like this when you had to leave town.”

“No,” he replied and moved closer offering the cider in his hand you hadn’t noticed. “I owe you a drink.”

In the narrow of your eyes you accepted the still warm cup saying, “Thank you. Don’t recall how, but thank you.”

“I don’t know Morse Code.”

Your lips parted to ask over the thunder of your heart in your ears, “Did you want me to teach you.”

“Not today, thank you.” He inhaled sharply and said, “I know you went to the Blue Bird Café this morning and I know that you didn’t meet the person you had hoped to.”

“I-,”

In a step closer he cut you off saying, “Because I don’t know Morse Code and it took me repeating the lengthy set of taps that kept me up last night to those amongst the team who do.”

“Oh,” you squeaked out in realization of what you guessed and halfway hoped he might be saying.

“So I came here to ask you to poke me again,” his eyes lowered to the finger that rose to tap him in the center of his chest that had him let out a breathy chuckle and scan his eyes over your face that was still devoid of anything readable but uncertainty and shock. “No, with your button, do you have it?”

“Oh, button,” sharply your head turned setting the drink down and gingerly he shadowed you in your circle of your bed to the near burrow under the fake fur blanket you had to do to grab the button that seemed to try and keep it hidden for itself. When you stood again you eased your fingers around the sides of the box with its mint colored button now a deep green that with a press of your thumb had him exhale shakily to the poke he felt.

He didn’t know what to do or say and yet all on its own it seemed his body acted to first cradle your cheek then lean in to press his lips to yours in a blind hope that however possible he could seal this bond to never break. Just as loudly as yours his heart thundered in his chest for the action his body had taken without permission.

And when your eyes met again his breath hitched hearing you whisper at the sight of the swirls of green mist that had filled the room with sparkling veins of gold to glimmer around the both of you. His skin now blue with raised ridges trailing across his skin in snowflake like unique markings to just him from his Jotun blood paired with his crimson eyes. “Was that supposed to happen or was it on accident.”

“The mist was unintentional.” He hummed back lowly and in his lean forward to brush his nose to yours his body melted forward at the toe top lift to kiss him again. With the close of your eyes covering his shift back after his notice of the color of his hand still on your cheek. An action and pose he lingered in to savor every second of it.

“Blue is a good color on you, Sunshine.” You said and his lips parted only for the growl of his stomach to make you grin and claim his hand and say, “Let’s feed you and that angry rhino you swallowed.”

Out of your slow cooker some jambalaya was served for the both of you to go with the cheesy mashed potatoes you topped with bacon bits he amusedly poked with his spoon as if it was possibly toxic. “I’m not going to poison you,” you giggled out.

“No, there is a topping like these pebbles on Asgard and it is merely awful.”

“Well this is tiny bits of bacon.”

“Bacon,” he said in an intrigued tone and took a bite he hummed around making you giggle to yourself.

“Midgard isn’t so bad, we’ve done amazing things with bacon.”

“That you have,” he said filling his spoon again with some of the jambalaya that while he chewed it his eyes scanned over your face in your downwards gaze, “Are you pleased?” he managed to ask when he swallowed lifting your eyes again to his.

“Could use more sausage. They’re so stingy on the weight per cent these days.”

“With me?” He asked in a near squeak afraid of the answer.

“As my Mate?” you asked and he nodded, “You are indescribable. You can do magic, I mean come on, I started magic when I was a kid and dreamed to have someone who would be so much more spectacularly talented than myself. Need I say, the essence of pure sunshine in your veins. You accept my Norse roots. Some people would just label me a witch on that alone. And you tolerate my weirdness, major plusses there.”

“I would assume, my title-,”

“Psh,” you said lifting his gaze from his bowls. “I would be honored to be bound to you if you ran a button stand.” You said triggering an awkward grin across his face at the compliment. “If anything the expectations of your possible requirement to take up after Odin on what I would only assume to be a possibly uncomfortable looking golden throne in that floating golden Palace would trouble me for the increase of scowls that would develop from the stress and drive that smile of yours away. Not to mention the heightened risk of stress on the heart from a job of that level.” After a moment of his amused grin your way you asked, “Do you really live forever?”

“Roughly 5071 years.”

“Well Bucky’s close to a century and he hasn’t seemed to age much, Steve was frozen for most of his. So I suppose logically, I can’t say how long I would be around.”

His brow inched up and he said, “I would find you. No matter where in Hel they settle you to spend your afterlife.”

You nodded and asked in a rather embarrassed tone, “No possible way I could get to Valhalla then?”

“You most certainly could well earn place there. Few Midgardians are welcomed, I did not mean to worry you or offer insult.”

You shook your head, “It’s just all different than how I was taught. You’re Frigga’s son, and Thor isn’t a redhead, no telling what else could be different. I mean did you at least give birth to a eight legged horse Odin rides around on?”

“Did I what?” he chuckled out with a widening smile.

“I mean who wouldn’t be able to learn to love a guy who gave birth to Hel, the Goddess of Death; Jörmungand, the serpent that surrounds the world; and Fenrir or Fenrisúlfr, the wolf; and Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse.”

“Thor did advise us the mortals had warped our tales, yet I had no imagination it could be that vastly different.” He paused and asked, “Hel, is she prominent in my life in the tales? I have never heard of a Goddess of that name.”

You said, “Those you had with the female giant Angerboda. You seem to love her in the tales. Though most of your tales I prefer include your other wife, Sigyn. You had a son with her, named Nari or Narfi.” His lips parted, “Odin uses your son’s intestines to chain you to a rock where snakes drip their venom on you and she sits beside you with a bowl to collect it. Though when she dumps it out and the venom drips on your face you thrash around causing the earth to quake. It’s quite the tale of devotion in Norse Mythology. There’s actually quite a tale for how you got married, she was betrothed to another and on the wedding day you kill him and take his shape and then reveal yourself after and she tells Odin she will honor the marriage. Sigyn’s basically known only for her devotion to you.”

“I have never wed, nor know of a Sigyn. I could never imagine my father able to bind anyone with the innards of their own child.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He shook his head, “No, you have not upset me. Although I am curious to ponder on when the tales stretched so far from the truth. Perhaps an exceptionally harsh winter with little to distract from boredom.”

“Well that’s the thing about legends. Everyone who first heard or saw them happen is dead. Kind of like the phone tree game,” his brows furrowed a moment in confusion to the name, “One person in a circle whispers to another, it can be a word or funnier a phrase and gradually through the circle the words change. Sometimes for the worse. Known a few to end in fist fights when they made us do it in schools in some mock trial to stomp out bullying as a sort of way to display how gossip explodes like wild fire. Then again it could be a testament to hearing loss rather than weak attention spans on trading whispers.” As you eyed his grin after a glance away to fill your spoon you said, “Sorry, got away from me there.”

“You did not wander far. Often I find people who ramble show great promise of intellect. Brains that are rapid to focus on new topics are very welcome amongst our scientists.”

“It must be amazing, your home.”

“My people are brilliant compared to yours, however very gullible. Hence my prowess in mischief.”

“Well, if you assume to have all the answers why would you bother looking for more?” making him smirk proudly at your words. “They’ll learn, with enough shoves in the right direction, or enough books to hurl at them. Sometimes you need a bit of mischief to open some eyes.”

“Thor has been working up the nerve to request a trip for his Mate Jane Foster to Asgard. I imagine her introduction to our scientists would be less productive than to hear from one who has crafted a rainbow portal on her own with only supplies from Midgard. Even our best crafters alive today could not tap into that technology. When Thor broke the rainbow bridge that aids in the control of the Bifrost Mother had to travel to Hel to consult with one of our scientists we had lost a thousand years prior.”

“That must have been fun for you to experience.”

“I wasn’t there,” he whispered in a downward glance then cleared his throat and drew in a deep breath, “Perhaps I should share something else, other than my race with you.” When his eyes did rise he almost flinched seeing yours on his, “There’s a, being, a Titan.”

“Like in Greek Mythology?”

“I’m, not aware of their history.”

“Sorry, Titan?”

“Thanos. I fell from the bridge when Thor broke it. Through the open void of the universe I faded to, I don’t know where. There, Thanos found me. His henchman tortured me.”

“Loki,” you said reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm that had his hand turn over to wrap around the underside of yours welcoming the contact and sadness not pity in your gaze.

“I was gone, for so very long, time is, difficult in varied realms to compare.” He wet his lips and continued shakily, “I managed to escape, with a deal. He sent me with the scepter to bring him the tesseract. There are these stones, with different powers to control parts of the universe, he wants them all and has others to locate them for him. That was why, I opened that portal. Why I killed people. To let them know something bigger is out there, and that it’s coming.”

“Okay.”

“He wouldn’t have come on his own, but I lied to him. And my Father can’t protect this planet, or won’t. I won’t let him hurt you though. I swear. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

“That’s a tall order in this city. Plus even doors are a danger to me when I’m in a hurry.”

“I’m being serious, he has decimated civilizations before and enslaved millions he allowed to survive.” His eyes scanned yours finding an expression he couldn’t decipher and he asked, “What is that look for?”

“I have secrets, terrible things I should tell my Mate, for fair playing field since you’ve been so open with me. I do trust you, I just,”

“I understand.”

“It’s just been mine, for so long. Nearly my whole life now, and Eddie, he found me at and back again from my lowest point,” Loki nodded and bit the inside of his lip at the tear that rolled down your cheek all of a sudden. “He was the first person who cared since I got here, and I just had to tell someone. It was breaking me, and he got me help with his therapist, which has helped. I just, I don’t know why, but even with you being able to rain aliens down upon us, I’m scared to tell you everything.” Another tear down your cheek had him lean in closer to your side. “Because if you knew, what I am, you would hate me. I don’t know why Eddie hasn’t left yet. He should have left me by now.”

“He is not going to leave, and no matter what pain that lies in your past, I will not leave you. And I will wait until you welcome me into the fold. No matter how long it takes.”

The rest of the meal he remained at your side and moved with you to your couch to inch closer to cuddling through a film that allowed you both to a comfortable silence. Droops of your eyes however had him excise himself to allow you to rest. When you were on your feet however with sight of his back his body went rigid to the poke he felt that had him turn to see you with your button in hand say, “Double checking.”

Gently he claimed your free hand and raised it to his lips to kiss your knuckles on the hand he cradled after, “Get some rest. Tomorrow should Stark not interfere, hopefully I could arrange a lunch to make up for my misstep this morning.”

“Not your misstep. I shouldn’t have assumed anyone else would know Morse Code.”

“I will learn, there is no fault on your part. Only imagination.”

“You get some sleep too, Sunshine.” His grin widened, “Keep that stress on your heart down.”

“I shall try my hardest with Stark in the same tower.” He said stealing another press of his lips to your hand before he released it and led the way to the door you closed and locked behind your unbelievable Mate you secretly wished would have tried to kiss more than just your hand the second time.

Pt 8

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess​, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

#Yacht Party #Soulmate AU #Loki x oc #sea sick #Eddie Brock #Peter Parker #Blue Bird Cafe #Vision #Bucky Barnes

[anika-ann]

The Troubles Are Lurking in Queens - Pt.2

Of  Not So Funny Billionaires and Terrified Husbands

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader        Word count: 2960

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Summary: When an arrogant lawyer demands his paperwork right now or better yet this very moment, you’re a good wife to Matt and decide to deliver the documents yourself – for your husband’s mental health sake (and for the sake of the meeting he’s running to).

The catch is the said lawyer has his office in Queens – and whoever said Hell’s Kitchen was the least safe place in NYC was clearly lying. Also, Tony Stark is... Tony Stark.

Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault, mention of past torture, some blood, Tony being a jerk

Part 1

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Spiderman apparently didn’t take no for an answer.

The office wasn’t on the way, but Spiderman delivered the papers anyway; you thought Davidson’s secretary’s face was priceless at least as Spiderman with a woman in his arms knocked on the window of her office, but anyway. Your way included a lot of not exactly secure flying around in the vigilante’s thin and somehow strong arms (enhanced strength?), only holding onto buildings via some sort of a web fibre and it was a fucking wonder you hadn’t either ended up smashed on a side of some building or hadn’t puked by the time you magically landed on the roof of the Avengers Tower.

Also, you were pretty sure some of your blood had rained down on someone and it was an awful idea you couldn’t shake off.

You were clutching your chest trying to catch your breath as the kid let go of you slowly, gentlemanly making sure you wouldn’t faint. Well. Now he was concerned about that?

“Welcome, sweetheart!” Stark’s voice sounded behind you as the billionaire walked in your direction with his arms wide open.

You on the other hand looked at him murderously. Was this really necessary?

“You know Mr. Stark?” the kid asked in awe.

You swallowed the ‘unfortunately’ line and pressed your lips together.

“Tony. What a wonderful surprise. How are you these days?” you wondered with a fake smile and he grinned wider, enveloping you in a hug. You didn’t reciprocate the gesture too happily, but you… tried.

“On a first name basis with Mr. Stark and hugging him? Holy hell!”

You rolled her eyes and spent a precious second thinking what the kid would say to what was coming next. The moment Tony withdrew, you slapped him, because you really needed to slap someone today. Tony was lucky your dominant hand was cut and you used your weaker one.

He tried to set his jaw right as if it really hurt anyway. The Spiderkid fell into shocked silence.

“That’s for using a poor kid for dragging me where I don’t want to go just for your fun or whatever,” you hissed and Tony licked his lips.

“Yeah, okay, I deserved this one.”

“Glad you acknowledge that.”

You tried not to think too hard about that you slapped a man who had once saved your husband’s life. You sighed, coming for another, this time gentler, hug, still wary of not staining his t-shirt with your blood. You probably failed.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding.”

“We were hoping you wouldn’t,” you teased, feeling a bit guilty for a) slapping him and b) being cranky. Tony was a bit of a dick, but a good guy. That was why you had decided to send him an invitation along with the other Avengers, who had saved Matt’s life one of the times he had got over his head and you walked into the Avengers Tower begging for help.

“I bet it was boring without me.”

“Totally,” you laughed, letting go of him.

“So… I understand this is some sort of a reunion, but a) I’m not a kid,” the teenage vigilante defended himself and you bit your cheek to stop yourself from protesting. “And b) shouldn’t her hand be handled? I mean, that’s why I brought her here?”

You smiled at the kid. He was cute. “Yeah, Tony. Shouldn’t my hand be handled?”

It was handled, by doctor Cho, who was usually taking care of bullet wounds, knife-in-liver wounds and stuff like that. She was incredibly nice, especially when you considered the shit she was dealing with.

The doc was just finishing your bandage – you only needed two stiches – when your ringtone cut the air and all four present – you, Doctor Cho, Tony and Spiderman – jumped a little.

“Hand me the phone someone, please?”

“FRIDAY, who’s calling?” Stark called out and you were kinda hoping it was just for show. They wouldn’t know that without looking, right?

“Contact saved as Matt, sir.”

How the fuck the AI could tell that? Also… ah-oh.

“That’s a little boring  I was expecting something more original. Sugar-bear. Bumblebee. FRIDAY, put it on speaker.”

You just gaped. How?! And was he serious?

“Oh, and mute her voice.”

“What?!”

“Are you okay?” Matt’s panicked voice demanded from the speakers in the corners of the room and you breathed in to calm his fright – wherever it came from. “Davidson called there was blood on the papers and-“

Oh crap, learning that must have been terrible. Also, you were sure Davidson had been a dick about it as well, probably complaining about dangerous biological material in his office.

“I’m fine, Matt,” you reassured him.

His terrified voice called out your name. “Are you there? Can you hear me?”

You opened your mouth uselessly. Was this for real? Could he really not hear you somehow? What the fuck?! Why would-

“Hey, buddy!” Tony chipped enthusiastically and your blood ran cold. Oh no. No, no, no, no…

Even through the phone, you could hear your husband’s breath hitch. “Who are you? How did you get this phone?”

You could only imagine Matt’s sightless eyes flickering wildly as he was trying to figure out the worst possible bloody scenario.

“I’m-“ you started, but Tony rolled his eyes at your attempts.

“Relax. I’m just having a little fun-“

Spiderman rose to his feet as he apparently wanted to protest too, but Tony shushed him.

“Who are you? What did you do? What do you want?” Matt’s voice changed dangerously, switching to the Daredevil persona and demanding answers. “I swear if you touch one hair on her head, I’m going to tear your limbs off one after another-“

Spiderman shrieked at the cruel threat and the way it was delivered. You gently pushed away Doctor Cho, standing up and making your way to the billionaire with your blood boiling.

“Tony, stop this right now,” you growled, your voice resembling the one speaking through the phone. He was scaring Matt out of his mind. Couldn’t he see that this wasn’t fun?

“Come on! Light up! I’m just gonna-”

“Don’t you dare to hurt her!” Matt thundered and Tony actually jumped at the sound of Matt’s teeth grinding.

“Alright, alright! Jeez, can’t you recognize an old pal? Jesus, DD,” Tony complained and the room was suddenly very quiet.  

“Tony, let me to talk to him.”

“Let her talk to him, Mr. Stark,” the kid supported you and you were sure he made some sort of puppy eyes behind his mask.

Matt didn’t react to learning the name of your ‘captor’. Which meant he was probably really pissed or too shocked. Or that Stark somehow blocked his voice too.

“Tony-“ you pressed and he sighed in defeat.

“Yeah, yeah, FRIDAY-“

There was a beep.

“Matt, it’s me. Are you there?” you asked softly, hearing his sharp inhale. “I’m okay-“

“She’s injured-“

“Shut up!” you shouted Tony down, spinning to him with your hand raised in warning. He had already said enough.

“Well, you are,” Spiderkid noted carefully and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m okay, Matt. I’m in the Avengers tower-“

“Medical wing,” Tony supplied helpfully and you grabbed the nearest thing – which happened to be a metal platter – and lashed it his direction. He shielded his face, silent ‘ow’ escaping him as the improvised weapon hit his hands.

“I’m on my way,” Matt exclaimed.

“Wait-“

There was only a dialling tone and you whined. You measured to Tony with fire in your eyes.

“I’m sorry?” he offered, shrugging with his palms up.

“You are such a dick! Complete and utter dick! You scared the shit out of him!” you yelled at the man who wore almost genuinely apologetic expression. But you didn’t care if he was sorry. He almost gave Matt a freaking heart attack! He had no idea what had-- you squatted for the platter, fully intending to use it again as the idiot was in your reach. “You fucker, you dickhead! You careless fuck-up!”

Each of the insults was accompanied by a hit with the platter. No one stopped you. Tony wisely covered his head. You were sure you it hurt as hell anyway, but somehow it didn’t sooth your nerves.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“The last fucking time someone had my phone and talked to Matt was when I was kidnapped by Wilson. Fucking. Fisk! He threatened to break my spine to paralyse me, you. Selfish. Arrogant. Bastard!”

Fuck, you were crying and your hands were shaking, suddenly feeling too weak.

You let go of the platter, overwhelmed by the memory yourself; the knife cutting through your skin when the huge man hadn’t liked your answers to his questions, his threats, Matt’s terrified voice on the other end of the line-

The clatter of the platter on the floor snapped you back into reality, but the images didn’t disappear. You brought your hands to your mouth to muffle the scream that drew to your lips.

“Madam?” sounded hesitantly behind you and you tried to blink away the freaking tears and chase away the nasty memory, unable to respond to the kid. It’s gone now, it’s in the past, I’m okay, I’m okay, Matt’s okay— just give me a fucking minute dammit. “Madam, can I hug you?”

You burst out laughing at the request; hysterical laugh during an emotionally heavy situation, the first sign of insanity.

“Oh my god. Yeah, yeah, you can, kid.”

The vigilante obediently wrapped his strong but toothpicks-like arms around your shoulders, embracing you tightly yet gently. He avoided applying a pressure against your belly with surprising grace. He didn’t even call you out on the ‘kid’ addressing. You were really starting to like him.

Maybe it was the costume – the armour – but it was kinda soothing. Maybe it was the knowledge he had to deal with Tony too often, so it felt like he was an ally of yours. You leaned into the hug gratefully and he caressed your back.

“You’re good at this,” you mumbled into the strange material of his suit.

“Thanks, madam.”

You chuckled at the addressing and asked him to call you your first name.

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Tony bullied you into a check-up; like the periodical check-up all pregnant women had to attend.

“Tony, I was at doctor’s three days ago-“

“But I upset you and stressed you big time. Don’t you think you should have another examination? Just to be sure?” he pressed, trying to make puppy eyes. Vainly – you had enough training at resisting the puppy eyes master Matt Murdock himself, Tony’s attempts were nothing compared to that.

“Tony, honestly, I just want to get the hell out of here ASAP,” you cooled him down. You were still pissed at him. A lot.

“FRIDAY! Call Doctor Cho back!”

And just like that, the poor doc who had silently disappeared during the fight had to come back and examine you again. With USG and everything. You didn’t have the strength to argue anymore and you didn’t want to make Doctor Cho’s job harder than it already was by working for Tony Stark in the first place.

You didn’t expect anything being wrong – yet, you couldn’t supress the relief washing through your body as the doctor told you both you and your baby were fine.

Also, the check-up filled the time, so you didn’t get the opportunity to pace nervously. You were getting dressed again when Matt’s voice entered the room.

“(Y/N)!” he called out and you wordlessly asked the doctor to get rid of the curtain separating your and the rest of the world. Not that it made a difference to Matt – it did to you.

“Matt, hey!” you greeted him, rising from the bed so he could see you were perfectly healthy. The impression was ruined a bit by your head spinning and the need to support yourself onto the bed, but hey, you tried.

Matt was crossing the distance between you two in rapid pace, his cane folded in his hand, his glasses covering too little of his worried expression.

“What happened? Are you okay? I mean, of course you’re not-“

“I’m okay, Matt,” you assured his softly as he threw the cane away carelessly and enclosed you in a bone-crushing hug. He nuzzled his nose in your hair, breathing in deeply. You kissed the side of his neck. “I’m fine, Matt, I swear.”

“I smell blood,” he protested, wounded by the lie. “When I heard someone else on the phone, I— I-“

You wrapped your arms around him gently, one of your hands interweaving in his hair, stroking comfortingly. He squeezed a little tighter.

“Tony is a dick. I’m so sorry he scared you. And… I’m sorry if Davidson was being an asshole about the papers-“

“Do you really think I care about some arrogant self-important asshole right now?” he asked hoarsely and you sighed, your lips caressing his skin again.

“No. But I’m still sorry.”

“ ‘kay. Noted. God, I’m glad you’re okay, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have let you-“

“Don’t even finish that thought,” you warned him, smacking his back a little. He caressed your lower back in return as an apology for trying to make a guilt trip. You knew he would be still blaming himself even when not saying it out loud, but you could work with that better. And later. In private.

“So… this is the guy who threatened to tear your limbs off, Mr. Stark?” the kid asked slowly and you bit your lip, loosening the hug just slightly in favour to glance his direction over Matt’s shoulder.

Yeah, you could see how this was confusing. After all, Matt was blind and right now looking like a cuddly teddy bear. God, you loved him for how caring and loving he was.

“This is the guy who saved me from getting mugged… potentially shot,” you whispered, feeling Matt’s body going tense at the reminder of the danger you had been in. His hand clutched at your shirt before letting go of you, turning in the direction of the young man’s voice.

“Thank you,” Matt said in earnest, extending his hand for the Spiderkid to shake. The vigilante squeaked, but lost his glove and accepted Matt’s hand.

“You’re— you’re welcome, sir. She… she was a great help actually, it was pleasure to save her, though she almost saved herself on her own-” he babbled nervously and Matt covered the back of kid’s hand with his left palm.

“I’m still grateful. And it’s Matt.”

The younger vigilante let out a surprised sound. “No prob, sir— Matt, sir.” The corners of your lips twitched. “I’m Spiderman. But you probably know that… or not. ‘cause you haven’t seen me in the news— oh god, oh frack, I’m really putting my foot in my mouth-“

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Spiderman. Thank you again for saving my wife’s life.”

The two men finally released each other’s hands and Matt immediately turned back to you as you approached him. He wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your temple lovingly, his thumb stroking your hip.

“So…” Stark started, making you both spun in his direction involuntarily. You couldn’t help but shot him an annoyed and angry look. Matt was significantly better seeing you were okay, but make no mistake, you were still incredibly pissed.

“Mr. Stark-“

“Alright! I’m really sorry, okay? Really, really sorry. It was a dick move!” Tony admitted and you were almost surprised at him acknowledging his mistake so openly. He turned rather to Matt then. “But you don’t need to worry, Murdock, I got her checked up and both of your girls are fine.”

Your heart stopped. Matt froze in the middle of his soothing periodical motions. The room fell into silence. You were afraid to even breathe in.

Did he just… did he-

“Both— both of my girls?” Matt choked out at your side and your slow brain was still processing the information you were just given. Oh my god.

“Yeah, Cho managed to check them up both.”

“Both… my— my-- girls,” Matt stuttered and his posture shifted slightly so he could face you without stopping touching you. “We’re-“

You and Matt had never asked your doctor whether you were having a boy or a girl. You had refused to know when the doctor had offered, because you didn’t want to know before Matt would and then you had talked to Matt, learning he wouldn’t want to know either.

Well.

Hell.

You were… having a girl. You didn’t know which option you had wanted until this moment, you just knew you somehow felt you were having a boy. Apparently, you were wrong.

And it was beautiful. So beautiful you felt tears in your eyes. You were having a girl.

You gulped, reaching out to uncover Matt’s eyes, putting his glasses away before squeezing his hand on you lightly. You raised your face to his; his brown eyes were… shining with gold threads and twinkling with tears just like yours.  

You couldn’t let out a single word. It turned out you didn’t have to.

Matt’s free hand reached for your cheek, cupping it tenderly and his lips met yours in a careful light touch. And another one, And one more.

“…they didn’t know the sex and I just told them, didn’t I?” Tony’s voice sounded from an awfully huge distance and you smiled into the kisses you kept receiving, curling your fingers in Matt’s hair, returning his affection.

“I think so, Mr. Stark. I don’t think they mind too much though,” Spiderman hummed, sounding a bit amused and absolutely moved by the scene in front of him.

“Cover your eyes kid, the adults are having a moment.”  

“Cover your eyes yourself… this is way better than a movie,” the teenage vigilante mumbled and they all pretended they didn’t hear it. You just secretly decided you adored the kid.

But you could never love the kid more than your own; your own babygirl.

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M.M. masterlist

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So… this happened? Somehow? Oh no, I made it fluffy… :D

Thank you for reading!

#marvel #fanfiction #matt murdock #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #peter parker imagine #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman imagine #the troubles are lurking in queens #anika ann

[yconic]

"Divorce is a special kind of pain. It's like death without a body, " is what they say when two halves of a whole heart separate.

Tony never understood when he was younger, never extended the notion of two people who gifted each other to eternity in union splitting up beyond 'Just not talking for a bit.'

He looked at it from a small perspective belonging to a small person, as if the people in question were just two good friends who couldn't decide on what game to play, hurt each other, and needed space.

His parents had done it more times than he cared to count. The frigid silences and artificial prompt politeness between the socialite power couple Howard and Maria Stark could last for two days, or two months, depending on how deep the issue picked out that time ran.

Tony sat straight as he watched the clock tick away, dutifully counting the hours that would bring Maria closer to home from whichever elicit travel affair she filled her time with while Howard closes himself into his workshop, stewing in anger and bitterness that leak out from the door he's not permitted to trespass.

He learns to measure the gravity of their squabbles, - If it's a small argument, Maria picks Germany, France, or Spain. She sends a letter stating the duration of her stay. She sends Tony well wishes, with a touch of formality for a mother, and her name is elegantly plastered on the bottom in cursive.

When Howard fucks up, she picked China, Britain, or Italy, and she disappeared from the earth until she emerged at her like. Howard is Howard, - the relationship between him and his son was too cold for Tony to tell how his father was like without the disdain gleaming in his eyes, but the liquor cabinet always needed at least a daily refill after a spectacular drama.

He looks back at those moments and realizes, with a shade of pity coated in something more sour, mellow but active, that divorce was never an option for them, the cycle of co-dependency and maintaining legacy had to be kept no matter how demanding that task was.

He can't bring himself to be angry when he feels so bad for them. All that money, and they couldn't buy a second of peace.

It doesn't take long for him to realize his parents don't love each other.

Tony was young, but he was never a child. He was naive, gullible, innocent, - but he was awake. While he didn't clearly understand what love was, he looked at the unhappy frowns on the miserable faces of the pair and thought: 'If that's how love looks like I want no part in it.'

He doesn't love people for more than one night, - A full week if their company was good enough to distract him from the rich golden color of his whiskey that gradually tastes bitter, and more bitter every time. It's not love, he knows, - He keeps that special for his family. But the kind of feeling he has with strangers, with nobody's with a name, resembles what he knows of love too much for him to change meaning.

He won't know how "love" feels like. He refuses to be the caged bird his mother was, to take form in the monster Howard let himself become.

Then, life gives him Steve.

He nests into Tony's life like a storm with skin, hair kissed by sunshine and eyes filled with an ocean that the brunette longs to sink into. He has a boyish charm to him, an old soul that swoops Tony off his feet. It makes him want to slow down, even if he belongs to the future, to activity, to progress. He wants to sit and listen to the stories Steve has, told in a Brooklyn swird that gives character to every word.

Steve looks at him like Rhodey told him all people should look at him. 'Like they can't see the status, or the money, or the power. Like they just see Tony, and nothing more. Because Tony will always be enough. ' Steve looks at him like he hangs the moon for him.

Tony never stood a chance. He looked at Steve, and thinks: "Oh, shit. He's It for me."

He just knows that this one, this Captain, decorated to the teeth, hiding in awkwardness at this petty mingling, social climbing Gala, lowering himself at the bar because he didn't know anybody, was made for him. And if Steve clings to Tony the whole night, he agrees with the parallel drawing out on his part.

He doesn't leave Tony's side, arm snug and comfortable around his middle like they've known each other for longer than time itself, and Tony loves it more than he has the courage to say.

Steve looks at him when the epilogue of the night strikes, too soon for either of their likings. He's tall, broad-shouldered, strong but has the softest eyes in the world. It hurts Tony to arch his neck to stare, but he doesn't want to miss a thing. "I've... I didn't laugh like that since I was in tour. You made my night, Tony."

"It's nothing, -" Because it really is. Considering the sins to his name, the least he can do to atone some mistakes is make as much people as happy as he can. And Happy is a great look on Steve.

He does learn one thing: When Steve says something, it stays how Steve says it. "No, its everything, Tony. I didn't smile once since coming home, " he croaks, like the confession pains him, and Tony aches alongside him. "Everyone is worried about me, saying that, that I seem upset, or sad, or just, never happy anymore, but how else am I supposed to feel?"

"You can't let others tell you how you feel, " Tony soothes, without thinking, a hand softly brushing against Steve's cheek. A frisson zaps through him at the feeling of the soldier's stubble spiking his skin. Steve leans into his touch like it's the most normal thing in the world. Tony's heart grows. "It's not even in your control, so why should it be in theirs? " He understands how Steve feels. More than the world would care to listen.

"Exactly. So, if it's not too much trouble, " his shyness compliments Tony's smitten. "Would you mind making me smile again?"

Tony is, utterly, indubitably, irrevocably, without a shade of doubt, fucked.

He smiles anyway. "You know, soldier, I think I could pull some strings."

---

Their love is like rain in June. It's mellow and distractingly peaceful, makes their worry and everything that ever went wrong scarce away. They can breathe around each other even when they feel like drowning. For once, Tony feels like it'll be okay.

But Life decides to do what it always does when Tony finds something good. It takes, and it takes, until there's nothing.

Steve tells him about Bucky. About the fallen brother that vanished in the mission that stole everything for Steve. "Only one soldier fell off that train, but two died that day, " God, Tony is so worried when Steve talks like that. "It should've been me. I wanted it to be me."

Tony listens and he pictures Rhodey falling. Steve loved Bucky in ways he couldn't even hope to understand.

It turns out, Death is not something so permanent after all.

It's a lovely night for them when Steve gets that call. He's wrapped around Tony and holds him in his arms as if he'd rather go to war again than let him go and Tony's heart never beat so loud for anyone. He would have never let Steve answer if he knew that phone call was the beginning of their end.

Bucky's alive again, is reborn from snow and war and ashes. Broken, but alive. Held captive by terrorists and is unmade, undid, but still alive. Everything around Steve is lost after that.

Tong gives him space and resources, help, support, he gives everything to Steve like on their wedding day. He gives him his care and gentle hands and soft words and love with a heartbeat. And Steve is just... Too preoccupied looking at Bucky to notice. Tony feels like a selfish bastard for wanting his soldier to look at HIM instead of coddling his friend at every moment notice.

He wants Steve to stop suffocating Bucky when he already looks like he's just inhaling instead of breathing.

He wants his husband back.

That's why he deserves what's coming to him. That's his punishment.

They drift apart slowly, as most terrible pains start.

Steve starts spending more and more time around the mental help facility Bucky asked to be enlisted into after his hasty return that had everyone clutching at their pearls. He wants to do it alone, Tony figures easily, starves for a journey he wants to walk himself, for the kind of autonomy only a man who lost it for too long craves.

His bitterness aside, Tony marvels at how similar they are. Maybe In another life, he and Barnes would've made a handsome pair of kindred souls.

Steve doesn't agree. He looks sickened, struck even, at Tony for having the Gall to suggest maybe Barnes would be more responsive if he talked with someone who had mirroring experiences. "God, Tony, you don't... You're not a soldier. You're just a man. You've been through pain, sure, but not like Bucky. No one went through what he did. I'm honestly speechless you ever thought you could compare."

Steve says that, it's why it hurts so bad. The man who swore he'd walk back into the hellfire of war just to find the people who hurt Tony and tear them apart.

The man who couldn't be moved by anything. No nightmare, no night terror, no panic attack, no argument. Nothing convinced Steve to leave. He stayed through it all.

The man who cried relentlessly when Rhodey walked Tony down the alter because 'He couldn't believe how lucky he was to marry someone so beautiful.'

The man who hasn't written Tony a love letter every morning like he used to do in over a year.

The man who spent more time sleeping in hospital rooms than in their bed.

The man who used to not go even one day without saying "I love you". Tony can't even remember the last time this sentence was spoken between them unless he said it first.

The man who agreed to couple therapy, then acted like it rained the next day.

Tony would will himself to shove this under the rug. To put a blind eye to it, to make it work, to ignore Rhodey's disapproval and Pepper's warm worry, to push away the pain blossoming in his chest, threatening to overspill.

But this man adopted a child with him.

---

"That one" Steve points to a small boy, thin but sturdy-looking even in the hand me downs from the orphanage, short limbs supporting a mess of brown hair that looks impossibly soft. His eyes are big and kind. Tony wants to take him home and feed him. "That one's ours."

His name is Peter, and he got into a fight with older kids when they wanted to stomp on ladybugs. He pushes back, but not unkindly. He's no bully. Instead, he takes the time to teach them why disrespecting and hurting nature is wrong, then takes their hands into his own, playing with the tiny creatures for hours.

Tony falls in love immediately. "Let's bring him home, Cap."

---

He can't do it. Tony can't look into Peter's adoring eyes, wide and brown that feel more like a mirror than anything, and see the fear he had for Howard, or the sadness for Maria. Tony can't handle looking at the love of his life and see another him.

Steve is Peter's role model. His knight in shining armor, his protector, everywhere he goes he sings praise to anyone who cares to listen. About his fearless father, his heroic antics that seem so tall for him. "My daddy's a superhero!" Tony doesn't have the heart to take that away.

And Tony loves Steve too much to see him become Howard.

So when Steve misses their son's 5th birthday party because he had more pressing business in D.C, Tony realizes bitterly, there's no saving this. People labeled him as a mechanic, a futurist, but he feels unworthy of both when he couldn't fix or foresee this.

There's no coming back from this.

Natasha doesn't voice it, but she doesn't need to. She tucks her phone away after a third failed attempt to coax, threaten, and guilt Steve into joining them, with muted movements, and Tony can tell she agrees.

Tony's grin is too wide when he looks down at Peter when he drags him off to paint his face, unaware of his father's turmoil. He laughs. He smiles. He celebrates. He has a nice day with his family.

He pulls Pepper aside and asks her to prepare his lawyers in the same breath.

This is why Tony knew love wasn't made for him.

---

Tony's always been good at hurting himself. The more pain he inflicts on himself, the less it'll hurt when someone else does it. So he unpacks the stash of letters he kept locked away in a seif, because they're prized to him, more than any sleek car or company, and reads them before he burns the bridge.

They feel like warm kisses and goodbyes.

'Left for a grocery jog, ran out of coffee. It's supposed to be cold, so don't you even think about leaving the house without a jacket! I'll know. Take care of yourself, even when I'm not there. '

' I love waking up next to you every morning. I love how you hide from the sun in my chest. I love how grumpy you are when Pepper calls for updates and all you do is cuddle me and whine. I love your messy bed hair and how you fall asleep in the shower.

'I never cared for jewelry before but seeing my ring around your finger never gets old. I still can't believe you said yes, but I'm glad you did. You deserve more, but you settled for someone like me. I can't believe it when you say no one would want you forever, I hate that someone made you think like that, that they let you go, but their biggest mistake is my biggest win. Jokes on them.'

'I can't imagine my life without you. Its all radio silence and broken static. Like an artist with a blank canvas and grey paint. You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, and the fact that I have you means there really is someone up there looking our for me. I'm never letting you go. I love you, I love you, I love you, '

Tony stains the paper with tears as he listens to the song of heartbreak in his chest.

---

"Nat, " Tony pleads, choosing not to look at the tremor in his hands as he neats the papers he wants to see burn. "There's no need for that, come on. You know I love you, but I'm a big boy. I don't need you to hold my hand for this."

Natasha shrugs. "Indulge me."

"He wouldn't do anything to me."

"I thought there were lots of things he wouldn't do. Like stop loving you, for one, " she doesn't mean to be a jab, but Tony strokes his right arm and lets the hurt wash off. He sometimes forgets how blunt and terrifying Pepper's wife is capable of being. "Being paranoid is worth being safe."

They find Steve in the kitchen, sitting stiff and unfamiliar as if he didn't design the place himself. Tony swallows down the pressure in his throat and forces his eyes to stay dry. He wants to rest his hands on Steve's shoulders and pepper the lines of laughter on his flushed face with kisses.

But they're behind that now.

Steve raises his eyes to look at him. He's tired, run-down, missing the spark Tony marked as one of his favorite traits of the blonde. The life wasted from them, telling Tony that he's surviving, but not living.

Tony looks at him back and his eyes say, 'Me too.'

Steve's mouth twists into an imitation of a smile, tries his luck at mimicking something of the reassurance and ease variety, to hide his emotions with a mask of cracked peace Tony undressed a million times, just as Steve undressed his. He's always been good at reading the man. Or, was.

Steve's eyes fall on the documents Tony's holding with his naked hands, no ring in sight, and Tony watches something die in him.

The room drowns in silence for a while.

Natasha stands as a loyal shadow at his side, silent but sharp, hands folded in front of her crotch like a guard dog waiting to pounce. There's a forced calm into her breathing that puts him even more on edge.

Papers brush smoothly above the marble surface, ear piercing to him. Red hot blazing into white noise. It's the most terrible sound he's ever heard. He prefers his breathless, agonized screams in Afghanistan to this.

Steve recoils away, standing up suddenly and shakily, as if the documents are bombs about to kill him anytime now.

He turns his head, refusing to look at them. Refuses to accept they're real.

"Throw those away, Tony, " he says, voice edged with the kind of suffering that would bring Tony to his knees on other circumstances."Get them the hell away from me and never bring them up again, you hear me? I'm serious.''

Carefully, Natasha chimes in, tone mild and neutral. " Steve. Tony would like to speak with you about something, alright? Let's sit down, and talk like grown-ups, -"

"Where's your ring!?" Steve shouts, tiptoeing at the border of desperate and hysteric. Tony wants back into the cave, wants the water to take him away from all of this. It's hard to kill something that's already dead. "What did you do with it!? Why aren't you wearing it!? You PROMISED me, you promised you'd never take it off you JERK, you lying -"

"And you promised to love me until the day we die, but by the looks of it we both could use a lesson in honesty, " Tony cuts icily, colder than colder. His words are resigned, hollow, at the brim of mechanical. He thinks all the people who say Starks are more machine than men had a point. "I'm the fuck up in this relationship. What's your excuse?"

He thought he'd feel vindication watching Steve taste a fraction of his sorrow, that his destroyed look would make something in Tony retaliate. It does nothing. Tony loves him stronger, fiercer, and there's no win here for anyone.

His mouth tastes like ashes.

He just wants to stop, to sink in his bed and swim in ratty hoodies drenched in cheap but sweet cologne, smudged with paint of all shades, and feel Steve's arms shield him from the world.

He wonders if it'll keep Steve up at night, how it never occurred to him that the danger he wanted to defend Tony from might have his face.

"I'll do better. Tony please," Steve begs him, and Tony wonders if the situation is so low a man with his nature would resort to that. He's shaken by big hands engulfing his own for exactly a moment before Natasha intervenes, pushing the blonde away with a hint of regret. Steve recovers, looks right through her at Tony who wants to wipe his tears away. "I'll do better, I'll- I'll spend less time with Bucky if you want, -"

"Bucky isn't the problem. It's not about HIM, it was never about him, this is US, Steve. We, our marriage, our family, its been here longer than Bucky. I never wanted you to - to erase him from your life, I just wanted my husband. Peter wanted his daddy. Bucky could've been apart of that, but you just, you just pushed us aside,-"

"I won't do that anymore. I, - Do you want me to be at home more often? I can, sweetheart, I can do that no problem. I can be at home, I can make time for dates and-and for activities, I can take Peter to the park and play ball, - Do you remember that? How we used to play until he fell asleep? I don't mind, its no problem, -"

Something in Tony snaps.

"WE'RE NOT YOUR FUCKING CHORES," His voice is more roar than man, ragged, tight, pushed to the last limit. The garden of silent pain, fury, rage, and fear he's been harboring finally blossomed into something that seemed to shake the world. His body shudders. "We're not some,- some pestering tasks that you have to save your precious time to complete! Some fucking pets other people have to force you to care of, or some dirty laundry you decide to wear whenever you feel like washing! We're your damn FAMILY,- " A sob hitches his anger, and by the broken look on Steve's face, it's worse than any rage.

He narrows his eyes in disbelief, as if Steve was some stranger and not someone he gave years of his life to. A laugh is pushed out of his chest, choked, long, and terrible. "I would've ended this sooner if, - God, if I knew how much of a burden we became for you."

"Tony, Tony don't say that, " Steve's face is blotched red, painted in punishing torment. "I love you and Peter more than anything in this life. You're mine, both of you, how can you think I don't love you? I, -"

"Just love Bucky more, " Tony finishes, note flat, accepting, rehearsed. His voice feels as hollow as his chest when Steve flinches. "I'm just... I'm so tired. Steve,I'm tired, and- I can't do it anymore. My son, my baby is not going to be a burden on anybody. I can put up with a lot of shit, but Peter is my limit. I can't and I won't put anyone above him. Not even you."

Horror shines bright and clear on the blue eyes Tony loves so much. He spots Steve's finger tremble at his sides, notices the hesitant movement of his Addams apple.

Natasha was wrong. It's a rare occurrence, but it happened.

Steve never stopped loving him.

It makes signing the papers so much harder.

---

Steve lost Bucky to ice, snow, and time. Tony loses Steve to fire, anger, and distance.

---

Pepper is surprised when she hears Steve ended up signing willingly.

She doesn't want to ruin the calm air that finally settled over the emotion packed atmosphere surrounding the living room, currently stashed with carton boxes filled with Steve's stuff, ready to be delivered tomorrow as Tony wanted, but it's a needed talk.

"What did you say to convince him?" She asks, not demanding an answer but clearly expecting one. "I'd just assume Nat had him in an arm lock until he agreed, but, in all honesty, Steve would probably lose an arm than do what people tell him to. Seriously, I've seen anarchists with more respect for authority than this guy."

Tony laughs, too loving and too fond for this predicament. "I said you'd drag his ass through every courtroom in America and drain him of everything he's worth?"

"Mmm. Try again. I mean, that's a Sunday for me, but he's already heard that talk before." Giggles are shared between the pair on the couch, snuggled under fuzzy blankets with wine glasses that clink slightly. Pepper's face relaxes into something sympathetic, earnest. "Was it something Peter related?"

"No, " he shakes his head. It never crossed his mind once, no matter how hurt he was. It felt too much like what his father would do. " Peter is his son, too. No matter what happens between us. There's no changing that. "

"No one would blame you if it came down to that, you know that, right?"

He hums. Pepper waits.

"I asked him to let me say goodbye to my husband instead of forcing me to stay with Howard."

A sharp intake of breath settles something cold beneath Tony's skin. He closes his eyes, and accepts the wine Pepper pours in his cup, neither commenting on how it spills over the rim.

---

Talking to Peter is the hardest part.

He doesn't understand why suddenly there's only two people there instead of three, why he isn't woken up by two pairs of arms tickling him and kissing his sleepy eyelids every morning, why Tony's laughter isn't echoing through the house as Steve spins and twists him around in the living room dance session they had at least once a week.

Why, apparently, Steve now has a permanent residence in DC and can only see him twice a week as their legal agreement states.

Why he has to live in two different places and split his playtime.

Why Tony bought a new apartment and they had to move away, stretching the distance between them and Steve.

"Is Papa comin' home today?" A hand squeezes Tony's heart painfully tight at the small question. He looks down at his son, smaller than usual and playing with his fingers at his feet. His frail shoulder raise, housing an anxious breath as he awaits an answer.

Tony takes his tiny hand in his own, leaning down to press kisses on the back of his son's palm, apology on his lips. "Yeah, baby. He has to come and pick up his stuff. Maybe you can play a little when he arrives! I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. "

Steve sends Sam to pick up his things and Tony feels guilt bite at him for hissing 'coward' in his mind.

Peter is excited to see his uncle Sam but the disappointment when he hears a truck coming instead of the deep rumble of a motorcycle engine doesn't wash off. He soldiers on, smiles for Sam because as little as he is, he's careful with people and their emotions. His goodness is organic. He takes after Steve like that.

Sam's always been frustratingly talented at deciphering his thoughts, even when his face is emotionless. It's one of the many reasons why Tony thinks him and Rhodey match so well. "He said he's really sorry he couldn't come, but... Okay, his excuse is just sad, because I doubt you'd believe he'd rather attend a Zoomba class than see you and Peter. Truth is, he's scared."

"Of facing me?"

"Of hurting you."

"Yeah, well, he's already got that job done on the to do list, " Tony huffs, petty and aware. He tosses Peter his baseball that lands in the backyard, gently nudging him away from the conversation. They watch the ball of energy squeal in delight as he runs to fetch it, tension momentarily on hold. "Sorry. You don't need my shit. Let's just load this and be done with it."

Sam huffs. "Man, I've been involved with your shit for a while. Appreciate the feeling but it's a bit late for that. Trust me, me and Rhodey have in length discussions about it. I'm neck-deep in white boy drama, but well, sacrifices of the job. Not much you can do."

He's playful, Tony knows this, in the corner of his brain that isn't raided by anxiety, yet fear claws at him, sharp and cruel and unexpected. Coldness spreads inside him like wildfire, almost matching the thoughts racing in his mind. Sam and Rhodey were talking? Were they arguing? Had Tony harmed Rhodey's relationship as if he didn't wreck his own enough?

"Talk?" Tony rasps, pushes the words out of his constricted throat that seems to close more and more, synchronizing with his lungs. Sam's wide, concerned eyes tells him the surface looked as bad as the inside."You... You and Rhodey, you guys- Bad talk? You, you fought about it?"

His mind torments him by showcasing Rhodey yelling in Sam's face and Sam yelling back, both standing their ground like two soldiers on a mission and defending their friends like avenging angels. Rhodey is more brother than friend, he'd take his side, like the devoted friend he always proved himself to be, but he watches with a cut breath as Rhodey locks himself in his room and weeps.

Rhodey sharing his fate is Tony's own horror movie.

"...ony! Tony, deep breaths, come on, " gentle hands guide him away from the void his own psyche trapped him into, speaking in a low voice that plucks him back up little by little. "Come on, in and out. Focus on my voice, that's good. Listen to me, Rhodey and I did not and will not fight about this. We're fine, Tony, promise! We agreed, no side pickers. This isn't war, and we won't get into some life or death fight for your and/or Steve's honor, " he tries for a little grin. ''I mean, I'm not supposed to tell you, but we don't like you guys that much."

Tony laughs, at once, a pathetically small sound, but he's grounded enough to laugh. He basks in the lack of sound around them, like the silence of an after battle, suffocating, but free.

The quiet hangs in the air as they load the truck, too, not oppressing, but welcomed, with a touch of comfort that burns just right. When the last box is secured and road-ready, him and Sam stay just a bit on the porch to stare at the house. Because that's what it is, isn't?

'Is papa comin' home?'

There is no home. Not if Steve's missing.

"Steve said you can keep those, if you want," that sentence made Tony hunch his shoulders, releasing that bitter aftertaste in his mouth again, blending with something sweet, and igniting the warmth that pierced as deep as his very marrow. "Nothing he loves or wants back is in those boxes."

Yes, Tony wants to scream. I want to keep the sketchbooks he has for me. I want to keep the photo albums. I want to keep the paint, the charcoal, the brushes. I want to keep the stuffed animals he won me at the fairs. I want to keep his clothes. I want to keep the dances in the living room. I want to keep his love, attention, care, worry, sadness, anger, grief. I want to keep my husband.

Instead, Tony reaches for his back pocket, and squeezes his ring. It burns in his palm, almost begging him to put it back in it's place, or on his finger, where it fitted like it always belonged. His being feels it, as if connected, and he decides to even the odds in the cowardice department.

Sam holds his breath as Tony hands him the ring, with hesitance, with no indication he wants to. "You sure about this?" It's a careful question, painfully gentle, far softer than Tony deserves.

No. Not by a long shot. "Yeah, " he mutters, almost lost in the air. "It's not mine anymore."

Sam curls his hand around the ring, pockets it, and Tony wrestles with the urge to ask for it back. His eyes are trained to the floor, on his shoes, the fine leather ones Steve bought for him on their anniversary, he realizes.

He watches droplets of water splash and dissolve into the concrete. It's raining, he figures, he should take Peter inside or he'll catch a cold. He looks up to watch the dark clouds, and the senine blue above mocks him.

"It's okay, " Rhodey picked a good one, Tony thinks, as Sam covers his crying form away from Peter's eyes. "It's okay, Tony. Just... Let it out. You earned this."

"I tried, " he sobs in Sam's neck, sobs his demise his failure, his bottled cocktail of emotions that waited to implode. "I tried, Sam, I tried so hard, I swear I did."

"We know you did, Tony. We all know."

---

Peter wants to meet Bucky one day.

"Papa used to talk about him all the time, " He says, oblivious to how vexed Tony is hearing that. He apprehends himself, reproaching that he should be over it already. "He sounds pretty cool! I want to see his Terminator arm!"

"It's a Tin Man or Robocop arm, at best, " He smirks at the pout Peter throws his way, smoothing it out with his thumb. "And he's in a hospital. You and I hate hospitals, remember?"

Peter whines and makes his eyes larger, pitifully glassy and sad, just the way to wrap Tony around his little finger. "Daddyyyy, pleeeease!" He hooks his fingers around his arm, hugging it close to his chest and his lower lip trembles.

He imagines Steve behind him, smothering a laugh in his shoulder, egging Peter on like two conspirational buddies. He melts, pushing the rush of yearning back, and knows it's a battle lost. Peter is too lovable, too determined, too bright eyed.

He's morbidly curious, in a way, to see what was so special about Bucky that it made Steve want to trade that.

---

Bucky and Peter hit it off in a heartbeat.

The facility hosting Bucky is uncomfortably pristine, from door corner to ceiling. Everything is tailored and arranged with ridiculous precision, clinical, professional, boring, and detached, as most medical spaces are. His workshop dances circles around it in the personality field, and he tells Bucky as such.

He laughs at him. "That's an interesting way to say you're a chronic untidy mess."

'Chronic untidy hot mess, " Tony corrects, hating how easily he falls into conversation with him. He tells himself it's merely a distraction from the stomach twisting smell of medicine, stingy and sharp smothering the air. "How offensive. I demand a trial by combat. Peter, make him pay in blood!"

Peter turns to Bucky, unblinking. "Your hair's greasy."

A theatrical gasps spreads in the room from the blue eyed brunette. Tony beams, kissing Peter's cheek. "That's my boy. I'm sure Bucky's bleeding a lot on the inside."

"Yeah. You know, where blood usually is, " Bucky snarks, heatless, propping Peter off from the spot on his leg and putting him on the ground . "Why don't you go ask nurse Joy to give you some magnets for the arm? Your father and I gotta talk adult business."

"Uncle Clint says adult business is just gossip for grown ups. " Peter retorts, smirk on his lips, half raising on the edges of his mouth. He got the smugness from him, that much Tony will admit. Bucky huffs a laugh that mirror Tony's own and waits for Peter to be out of the hearing range to say his next words.

"I owe you an apology."

Tony blinks, hastily, and speaks before he can even register what he's saying. "No, you don't. Drop it." It comes off razor sharp, yet Bucky must be used to worse, because he doesn't falter.

"I ruined your marriage. There's no forgiving that, but I DO regret it and you'll damn well listen to what I have to say."

"Look, I appreciate it. I do. I'm not... Mad at you. You're just in the crossfire of this clusterfuck. There's no forgiving because there's nothing to forgive, " he murmurs under his breath, words quiet, but sincere, he realizes. "My failure is my own to carry. "

"Stark, relationships need more than one person. Stevie ain't exactly blameless in this whole thing, - Far from it, trust me, I let him know. He got the scolding of the damn lifetime, because he threw away a damn good thing. He made a home for himself and then demolished it. You didn't hand him the sledgehammer, he picked it up on his own dumb self."

"You know, your philosophy lesson would impact me better with wizard lingo. Throw in a riddle or a prophecy and I might bite. " Receiving a blank stare to his quip, Tony sighed, eyes downcast.

"Look. I called it off, alright? I lit up the matches, I burned down the bridge, and I watched it turn to ash. But it was meant to happen, one way or another. We were just too different. Guys like me break the world apart. Men like Steve put it back together. He'll move forward. Like he always does."

Bucky's reply is instant. "No, no he won't, " it's said with such conviction, with such a finality, that it has Tony freezing. "He'll never move on. Not from this. I've never seen him like that for anybody, hell, never seen ANYONE like that. You and him? That's a forever kind of deal. You don't need a ring and name change for that to last. You don't have a choice."

Tony swallows, slowly, unsure. "So what? We just keep path crossing like fate has us tied together, in each other 's range but standing on parallel lines, never meant to cross? This isn't a fairytale, Barnes. It's real life. And even if it wasn't, that's still far from fair."

"It is real life. Which means it ain't fair, Stark. "

Tony takes Peter home, cuddles him closely as if he might disappear, and eyes the empty area around the right side of the bed with a lonely glint that burns in the darkness.

---

The first time Tony meets Steve after the divorce, it's for Natasha's birthday party.

Time jumps from slow to fast, alters between stagnation and overwhelming in the first 6 months that pass after the finalization of their parting. Some days are agonizingly slow. As if the world wants him to stomach every second, consume every minute, where Steve is not with him, isn't his anymore, and choke on the pain that tastes just as sharply as the first time.

And in some, time goes by in blink record, not keen on giving Tony the courtesy of healing, of moving on, of according him the patience or kindness in adapting his feelings to his pace, to accommodate to the arrangement it dragged him in.

Concern crawls inside him regardless of how many times he buries it, makes a tangly nest right in his chest, and makes no effort to move. He doesn't blame Steve for not wanting to meet him, to look at him, to give him the chance of staring into the bright, baby blue eyes that hold everything beautiful in the world.

Tony's seen the wonders of the world, all 8 them, and they all pale put next to Steve.

He feels seething, scalding guilt showering him for thinking that. Because Steve is not his to worry over, not his to call wonderful, not his to care for. Not anymore. He repeats that like a mantra against his eardrum when Natasha asks him if it's fine if she invites him to her party, too.

It's the perfect excuse to see how he's doing, but Tony elects to ignore that and remind Natasha grown-ass people don't ask other grown-ass people for permission on what to do. "Do I look like Pepper to you? No? Then why would I order you around?"

A discreet smile reaches Natasha's features, exhibiting confidence but betraying relief. She loves them both, Tony knows, and wants her friends first, not the fallen lovers. "Just wanted to know if I should hide the sharp knives or prepare some spare sheets."

His face heats ferociously, climbing all the way to the tips of his ears, and all the embarrassment in the world is worth listening to Natasha laugh. Something sharp-edged inside of him brittles at the prospect of seeing Steve, thought, and he holds his tongue from saying something of that nature won't happen.

In the company of his solitude and shame, Tony wonders later, is he afraid of seeing Steve again because he fears the blonde is not doing okay, or because he is?

Later on, he sees Steve stand in flash before him, chatting with some faceless figures, hair longer than last time and flattened slightly at the nape, sporting a beard that framed his gorgeous face perfectly. The impeccable balance between scruffy and well-groomed. Tony itched to run his fingers against it.

"It's the divorce beard, " Clint muses, elbow jolting Tony in the side to show the humor. "Give him a few more weeks, and you'll see him shopping from the Hobo shop. All wrinkled shirts and ketchup stained clothes or something. Men are useless without their wives.'' He winks in Tony's way, but Tony is too entranced by Steve to acknowledge it.

His fists are bruised, Tony notes with a wince as he gets drunk on Steve's form with a studious gaze, creamy skin battered and laced in a cluster of dark purple, crimson, and small patches of yellow shaping his knucklebones.

A trail of question rests blistering on his tongue. 'What happened? Who did that? Who were you fighting? Why? Are you okay? Did you win?' But he closes his eyes and bites his tongue, knowing these questions don't belong to him anymore.

He gave up his rights to that.

But then, Tony spots them.

His breath is knocked out of his lungs in a silent punch, eardrums pushing out all the sound attempting to penetrate his ears. His fingers loosen so much they almost drop his water, feeling tingly numb. Tony's eyes, large and surprised, trace the circle of gold curled around Steve's fourth finger, gleaming softly against the artificial light around the dining room.

Steve is still wearing his ring.

But then, his chest burns and booms, heart roars fiercely behind his ribcage as he notices the thin string of black leather circling around Steve's neck, loose as a necklace, hanging low enough for Tony to eye the shape of metal halo looped right in the middle of the material.

Steve was wearing Tony's ring, too.

The realization left him petrified in place, more statue than man, in stunned shock as he bore into his former lover who only then noticed the brown eyes looking at him, transparent astonishment clear as crystal in his features.

It's like a spell breaks.

Tony's limbs move mechanically, on autopilot, running to the nearest room, getting himself away from what his body detects as danger. Urgency is packed on his step, taking him to the bathroom in record time, but Steve's always been the runner, more athletic between them, and his sprinting lands him a spot in the sleat Tony wass about to slam.

He's pinned to a wall effective immediately, feels cold tiles plant clammy kisses on the back of his head and neck. Tony almost hisses at the force of the slam, but before he can make a peep, his lips are stolen in a savage, fierce kiss.

It's pure desperation conveyed in the most unconventional way. Steve pounces on him, lips wild against Tony's own, pouring every emotion he went through in the past few months,- Longing, yearning, craving, hunger, desire, - his being, his love, his soul into that kiss, barely giving Tony the chance to breathe.

"St-Steve, " He gasps, head tilting slightly to the side to escape the ministrations, to gulp air, moving to avoid the chase at reconnection Steve is playing at by trying to capture his lips again. "Wait, wait a minute, -"

"Missed you, " Steve's voice is thick with want, hitching in the small puffs of air that came off raggedy and breathless, words melting over Tony's mouth. Steve's face glows with a blush he wants to kiss with inhuman greed. "I missed you, I missed you,Tony I missed you" Tony's fucked.

#wHAT UP ITS 5 AM AND I CAN'T SLEEP #my writing #writing #stevetony #stony #mcu #marvel #alternative universe #tony stark #iron man #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #peter parker #pepper potts #rdj #robert downey jr #chris evans #natasha romanoff #avengers #fluff #romance #angst #james rhodes #blackpepper #iron bros #iron falcon #friendship #sam wilson

[12-16-91-stark]

I know you don't have the time, but there are some docs that caught my attention: Lost to Me; Home for the Holidays and Me Before You.

You're fine, no worries!!!

Lost to Me is again part of 12.16 to Endgame, it's just the first part I had written for it and for some reason when I continued with a different scene i made it in a dif word doc? lol But here is another taste...

Howard entered the room slowly. The air was chilled and he had to suppress a shiver as he gently closed the door behind him, making sure that the privacy shade on the window was pulled down. The light was dim and he kept his sights on the pristine white tiles of the floor, unable to bring his eyes up to look at the slab in the center of the room. His heart pounded away like a freight train in his chest and he felt the the first droplets of sweat forming at his temple and around his collar despite the cool temperature.

He could do this. He owed it to his son. Right foot forward, then left, and repeat.

---

Home for the Holidays is an IronFamily Thanksgiving in a post-Endgame, Tony lives world <3

Peter spent Thanksgiving morning simultaneously with his face pushed to the glass looking out over the front of the apartment and running to the kitchen to help Aunt May with the food preparations. The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade was on the tv in the living room, the announcer’s fawning over the new balloons and artists as they performed. Years and years ago Peter remembered when Aunt May and Uncle Ben had taken him to watch the parade and ended up scarring him when the Barney balloon impaled itself on a lamp post and came crashing down. He hadn’t gone to see the parade in person since then. Even if they did have a superhero section featuring Spiderman this year.

It was the first major holiday his mentor, kinda Dad (though he would NEVER admit that anywhere but the comfort of his own brain), would finally be able to attend since he had finally been released, after months in the hospital.

Life had been very touch and go, for Tony Stark after the battle against Thanos. When he should have been taking his final breaths, Dr. Strange had stepped in and helped save him. Peter didn’t know the exact details of what had occurred. One minute they had been on the battlefield and the next they were in South Korea with Helen Cho. Afterwards he hadn’t really cared what happened as long as it meant that his mentor had survived.

Tony lost an arm, the one that had snapped, and he probably wouldn’t ever hear properly again out of his right ear either. The severity of the scarring had been lessened but the damage to the skin ran deep due to the magical properties of the gauntlet, so part of Tony’s face would always be marred by the lightning shaped scars. (Thor had been quick to reassure how warrior like this made Tony.)

There had been a lot of tears in that waiting room but Peter mostly remembered Pepper’s calm determination in light of the uphill battle she and Tony would journey together. Limbs could be replaced with prosthetics and Stark Industries already held a medical patent on high tech hearing aids from where Tony had created them years earlier for Clint. The psychological healing and the rigorous physical therapy regimen would take longer, but it was a small price for Tony’s life.

---

Me Before You is a brief little scene based off the book/movie, just putting Pepperony in the shoes of the main characters. Tony was injured in an accident, paralyzing him from the neck down and wants to end his life. Pepper is the caretaker who accidentally falls in love with him and is determined to change his mind.

"There's got to be something that can be done, Tony. I can't just let you do this."

"It's not your choice to decide Pepper. I decided this a long time ago. I'm not getting any better and I won't get better. This is my life now. I'm an engineer who can't build. I can't walk, I can't go to the bathroom or get out of bed. I will never be able to make love to you the way you deserve. This is not a life that I want."

"So, that's it then? You're just going to give up like that? No one else gets a say?"

"It's my life, Pep."

"You are so incredibly selfish, you know that? How dare you bring me on here...make me fall in love with you and then only now tell me you want to kill yourself?"

"It's euthanasia, not suicide."

"It's suicide, Tony. Paint it up with all your medical terms and fly off to Switzerland but at the end of the day you're still choosing to die."

"It's not that simple…"

"Does Rhodey know? Or your mom? Do any of them know what you have planned?"

Tony swallowed harshly and turned his head away from Pepper, hair falling in front of his eyes, hiding the stinging tears that had appeared during their argument.

"They don't do they? When were you going to tell them? After you were dead? Send them a note through Jarvis?"

"Pep…"

"No, don't Pep me. You can't…" she began to falter, the hysterical edge in her voice turning to tears. "You can't do this to the people who love you, Tony. You can't. Please, don't do this."

Tony watched the sobs begin to wreck through her body wordlessly. He would give anything to be able to wrap his arms around her and hold her close to him. But he couldn't. He was a prisoner in his own body, couldn't she understand that?

How he wished he had met her before all of this, but he hadn't. He would never live a normal life again. Maybe she would stay with him now, and maybe she did love him now too, but eventually his condition would drive her away. She would tire of taking care of him, grow tired of not being able to do what normal couples do and then what? He couldn't bear to one day look into her eyes and see that resentment there. Better to cut it off now, to go forward with what he had planned from the minute he woke up from that accident.

"Pepper, please," he whispered through his own tears, begging her to understand.

Instead she moved from her position at the door and came to where he sat in his chair and collapsed into his lap, tears still falling. The scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils as she settled against him and he breathed her in, soaking up every breath, every tear.

"Please, don't do this," she whispered against his neck.

"I'm sorry." He leaned his head against her, stubble brushing against her cheek. "I'm so sorry Pep. You weren't supposed to love me."

She clung tighter to his neck and god how he relished being able to feel her there.

"I'm going to change your mind." Her tears had stopped and her voice was steady and resolute against his ear. He could almost believe her when she said that, but he knew that there was nothing that could be done.

"You can't."

"I will."

He just sighed and leaned against her further. He knew he would let her try. He didn't want to leave her yet, but he knew it was cruel to get her hopes up and lead her further along. It was only going to hurt her more in the end, but Tony Stark had always been a selfish bastard and he would take every moment he had left with her.

#mel's fics #teasers and sneak peeks

[riotwritesthings]

When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)

WinterIron, T, 2.7k, crack, bedsharing, pining | AO3

Dear @hddnone​, I hear you like bed sharing fic. I also like bed sharing fic, and I ADORE your work and also you. So here’s this. I wrote it in a night I never do that who even am i. As always, thanks to Stella for title assistance.

-

“I take it back,” Tony calls out the open doorway, “this safe house is not well stocked, they forgot one very important thing.”

Bucky appears in the doorway a second later, looks around the small bedroom, and then fixes Tony with an unimpressed look.

“There’s only one bed,” Tony says slowly, in case Bucky somehow missed it, but Bucky just shrugs. And of course it’s not a problem for him, he’s not the one uselessly pining away like a character in an old timey romance novel.

“So you take it,” Bucky says, “I hardly sleep anyways.” Then he turns to leave, like that’s just the end of the conversation.

“That is not the end of this conversation!” Tony says, following him back out into the equally tiny living room.

-

Turns out, that is the end of the conversation. For about three days.

For three nights, Tony tosses and turns on the lumpy single mattress, feeling ridiculously guilty even though it had been Bucky’s idea to sleep on the tiny moldy couch. He also has to keep listing out all the reasons in his head that he shouldn’t invite Bucky to come share the bed with him, laws of physics be damned.

Like the fact that it took long enough for Bucky to be comfortable around them all anyways, especially around Tony, and the last thing Tony wants to do is screw that up. Especially because he would almost, tentatively, say that he and Bucky are friends now, and it’s not like Bucky wants more than that, why would he? It’s Tony.

Tony doesn’t sleep very well, is the point.

-

On the fourth night, Tony puts his foot down. “Your turn with the bed,”’ he says after their nightly meal of tasteless canned meat, “little piece of advice, it does slope to the right, so be careful not to roll off.”

“No,” Bucky says eloquently.

“Yes,” Tony shoots back, then twists sideways on the couch and starts kicking Bucky in the hip as he says “go on, get out of my new bed, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

Bucky moves not at all except to grab one of Tony’s ankles. “I told you, I don’t need-“

“This is purely selfish,” Tony interrupts him with a bright grin, “that bed is terrible, okay, every inch of me hurts and I’m hoping this couch is better. Have fun with the torture bed.”

Bucky gives him a suspicious look, but slowly rises from the couch and heads for the bedroom. He doesn’t shut the door behind him, and Tony listens with satisfaction as the old bed frame creaks under Bucky’s weight.

The couch smells terrible. Tony is kind of tempted to hold his breath until he passes out, because for a while that seems like the only way he’s getting to sleep. But he feels way less guilty, and it's way less tempting to go crawl into the bed with Bucky. That would just be rude.

Eventually, Tony manages to get past the smell and the lumps and the way the one tiny window rattles in the lightest of breezes, and actually falls asleep. He wakes up in the bed, blankets neatly tucked in around him.

“Are you kidding me, you stubborn bastard?!” Tony demands as he storms into the living room.

“What happened?” Bucky asks, smiling innocently at him over a can of peaches.

“This isn’t over,” Tony tells him, very seriously, and then, “I was saving those peaches!”

-

On the fifth night, Tony comes out of the bathroom to find Bucky pretending to already be asleep on the couch.

“Bucky,” Tony says, standing over him, hands on his hips, and then continues saying it until Bucky finally squints an eye open at him. “Bucky,” Tony says, as reasonably as he can, “go get in the fucking bed.”

“I slept in the bed last night,” Bucky says and oh, Tony can absolutely see the smirk trying to break free from behind Bucky’s flat expression.

“You most certainly did not,” Tony says and he can’t help a small huff of laughter, because he has to respect the dedication.

“Agree to disagree,” Bucky says, shrugging one shoulder, and then closes his eyes again.

“I do not agree to that,” Tony says, “and I will stand here all night to make a point, don’t think I won’t.”

Bucky peeks his eyes open again, and Tony raises one eyebrow at him.

Falling asleep on the couch is at least easier the second time, but halfway through the night Tony wakes up in bed again.

“Damnit Bucky!” He shouts, struggling and failing to break free of the blankets tucked tightly around him.

“I’m sleeping!” Bucky shouts back, and Tony is pretty sure he can hear a smothered laugh. It’s unfair, really, that the sound of it has Tony’s heart beating just a little faster.

“The hell you are,” Tony grumbles, and falls back asleep before he can work up the energy to free himself and go kick Bucky off the couch again.

-

On the seventh morning, Tony wakes up to Bucky looming above him.

“What th’ fuck, Tony,” he demands, sounding something almost like plaintive.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Tony says brightly, feeling incredibly smug despite the way his entire body aches from sleeping on the ground.

”Mornin’, angel,” Bucky says flatly, “why aren’t you in th’ damn bed?”

“You can keep putting me in the bed, but you can’t make me sleep in it,” Tony says sagely, steepling his fingers beneath his chin.

“I can tie you t’ the bed,” Bucky growls, and Tony is incredibly thankful he managed to pull the blankets down with him because hello.

Tony can’t help the way he immediately responds by smirking wide and wiggling his eyebrows, he really can’t. It’s just instinct.

Bucky rolls his eyes and stomps out of the room.

“I’m counting this as a win,” Tony calls after him.

“I’m eatin’ your powdered eggs,” Bucky calls back. Like that’s any kind of a threat.

-

So it continues like that, they have nothing to do during the day except hurry up and wait, and there’s only so many times Bucky can clean his guns and sharpen his knives, only so many times Tony can tear apart the toaster and put it back together. At least fighting over the bed gives them something to do.

Tony would even dare to say that Bucky is enjoying the game, too. Especially on the eighth night, when Tony wakes up just as he’s being gently lowered to the mattress, decides to aggressively throw himself out of the bed, and nearly brains himself on the nightstand. Bucky laughs so hard he nearly collapses and Tony seizes the moment of opportunity, almost crawls all the way out of the room before Bucky grabs him by the foot and drags him back.

On the ninth night, when Tony tries to roll out of bed, he gets tangled in the sheets and ends up pinned awkwardly to the side of the mattress and has to yell for Bucky to come free him. Bucky stumbles in looking sleepy and smug, so gorgeous that Tony almost does something incredibly stupid. Like tell him that.

No matter where Tony falls asleep, on the couch, on the scratchy rug in front of the empty fireplace, on the kitchen table just to make a point, he always wakes up in bed. He doesn’t even stir when Bucky moves him, most of the time, and that’s as endearing as it is terrifying.

After the tenth night stuck in the tiny safe house, things start to get weird.

-

“Bucky,” Tony calls pitifully, and waits a full minute before continuing with “frosty, sweetheart, light of my life, oh kind and generous angel, would you please get in here already.”

Bucky finally appears in the doorway and Tony knows he took so long on purpose, this house isn’t that big. “What’s up, sugar?” Bucky asks and he’s trying to hide his smirk behind his coffee mug but Tony can absolutely see it in his eyes.

“Not much, just one little thing really,” Tony says pleasantly, and then flails his entire body as hard as he can. It accomplishes not a goddamn thing, because the blankets on the bed are all tucked in so tightly that Tony might as well be in a straight jacket.

Bucky chokes on his mouthful of coffee, clearly trying not to laugh, and good, Tony hopes it went up his nose. Bucky doesn’t actually move to help him though, just stays leaning against the doorframe and grinning.

“Bucky,” Tony says again, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

“Darlin’,” Bucky says back, smiling sweetly. When Tony continues to stare him down, he takes a slow, obnoxious sip of his coffee before asking “what’s up?”

Tony attempts to flail again, then demands “would you just get over here, what the fuck, did you staple these sheets in place?!”

“Had to make sure you didn’t go anywhere,” Bucky says, completely unapologetic, but finally moves to free him.

“You’re a bad, bad man,” Tony tells him, already plotting how he’s going to steal the mug of coffee Bucky left on the nightstand.

“Whatever you say, doll.”

-

Tony wakes up slung over Bucky’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Disappointing,” Tony tells the small of Bucky’s back, “I always imagined you carried me like a delicate princess.”

“Not when it’s the third time tonight,” Bucky grumbles, voice low and sleep rough in a way that does things to Tony, “would you just stay in th’ fuckin’ bed.”

“You sleep in the bed,” Tony replies, “and leave me in peace.”

“You can’t sleep in th’ bathtub,” Bucky says heartlessly and drops him onto the bed, surprisingly gentle.

“I argue that I was sleeping in the bathtub just fine,” Tony points out.

Bucky yanks the pillow out from under his head and shoves it in his face.

-

“Are you serious right now?” Bucky asks, leaning heavily against the doorframe, his hair in his face and his eyes still mostly closed.

Tony freezes in the act of building a Tony-shaped lump of pillows under the blankets. “No?” He tries.

Bucky glares at him until Tony shamefully un-builds the Tony-shaped lump and crawls back under the blankets himself.

-

On the fourteenth night, Tony has a new plan. It’s not a good plan, but it is new, and considering how stir crazy he is that’s about the best Tony can do.

He’s pretty sure Bucky is already awake when he stumbles into the living room, so Tony just heads straight for the couch and throws himself down on top of Bucky. It’s super awkward, because Bucky is curled up on his side to fit on the tiny couch, and Tony definitely ends up with a metal elbow somewhere around his spleen.

“What th’ fuck, doll,” Bucky slurs out, and maybe he hadn’t been quite as awake as Tony had thought.

“I want the couch,” Tony says, “I don’t care where you sleep. Although I should point out that the bed is empty, so you might as well use it.”

“What the fuck,” Bucky says again. He tries to shift, probably because Tony’s knees have to be digging into his legs, and it would probably send Tony tumbling to the ground if not for Bucky’s other arm snapping up to wrap around him.

“Give in and surrender the couch,” Tony says, like Bucky isn’t the only thing keeping him from face planting into the ground.

“Why are you like this?” Bucky asks with a heavy sigh, and in one smooth move manages to push himself to his feet while simultaneously slinging Tony up into a bridal carry. He smirks when Tony makes a couple nonsense noises and asks “happy now, princess?’

“Thrilled,” Tony says with as much sarcasm as he can manage, but it still comes out entirely too honest as Bucky starts carrying him back towards the bedroom.

“Why won’t you jus’ stay in th’ damn bed,” Bucky asks and oh, apparently he actually wants an answer to that.

Tony ran out of reasonable excuses about two days ago, so he blurts out “I feel guilty hogging it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but there’s a warm smile hovering around the corners of his mouth as he says “told you I don’t want it.”

“Oh, well if you told me,” Tony says with an eye-roll of his own, because really, it’s like Bucky doesn’t know him at all. Bucky does huff out a soft laugh, so maybe he does, but still, Tony has a point to prove. As soon as Bucky sets him down oh-so-gently on the bed, Tony leaps into action and tries to throw himself over Bucky’s shoulder towards the door.

“Damnit Tony,” Bucky snaps, but he’s shaking with suppressed laughter as he catches Tony around the waist and tries to toss him back down onto the bed. “Shit,” he swears again as Tony gets his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and clings for all he’s worth, “sweet thing, would you just- fuck, Tony-“

At some point in the ensuing scuffle, in which Bucky tries very hard to set him down and Tony tries very hard to not let that happen, Tony’s heel collides with the back of Bucky’s knee. It knocks Bucky just enough off balance that they both go tumbling down onto the bed and the frame groans dangerously.

It also knocks all the air out of Tony’s lungs when Bucky lands heavily on top of him, and after a second Tony manages to wheeze out “tell my bots... they failed me.”

“Tha’s fucked up,” Bucky says with another soft laugh. Then he wiggles one arm under Tony, says “hold on,” and proceeds to somehow roll them both over without rolling straight off the bed. “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” Bucky says, dropping his head back and even managing to land on the pillow, “you’re makin’ this so difficult.”

“I am proud of myself,” Tony says, face smashed against Bucky’s chest and eyes already falling closed, “‘cause that’s what I do.” Honestly, Bucky is about as lumpy as the mattress, in terms of laying-on, but in much better ways. And he’s so warm, and his arm still draped around Tony’s waist feels so nice, there’s not a damn thing Tony can do to stop himself from drifting off.

“Are... are you falling asleep on me?” Bucky asks, and there’s something in his voice that Tony can’t quite place. Maybe he can figure it out later, when he’s awake.

“No,” Tony says, and then passes the fuck out.

-

On the fifteenth night, Tony falls asleep on the couch and wakes up sprawled out on top of Bucky on the tiny bed, both of Bucky’s arms wrapped tight around his back.

“‘S this your dastardly plan to keep me in bed?” Tony asks, not bothering to lift his face from where it’s tucked so nicely into the curve of Bucky’s throat.

“Worked last night,” Bucky says, voice more of a low rumble than anything, and tightens his hold just a little.

“You fiend,” Tony says, and falls back asleep.

-

On the sixteenth morning, Tony wakes up still sprawled out on top of Bucky, drooling on him a little, Bucky’s fingers running through his hair. They don’t fight over the couch, after that.

-

It’s another three goddamn days before someone finally comes to pick them up, and they share the very last can of peaches to celebrate.

“Am I gonna have to worry ‘bout finding you sleepin’ on the kitchen table still?” Bucky asks with a small grin that still manages to light up his whole face.

Tony takes his table to think about his answer, sucks the last of the sugary, corn-syrupy fruit juice off his fork. Takes stock of the way Bucky watches him do it. Considers. Runs the odds. Decides to take his chances.

“I think you’ve learned there’s really only one way to be sure,” Tony says, raising one eyebrow and even letting a nervous little smile show on his face.

Bucky’s grin widens slowly, and then it’s a full on smile, nearly splitting his face and Tony can’t take it anymore. When Tony kisses him Bucky tastes sugary sweet and he still won’t stop smiling, even as he pulls Tony in closer.

Tony really doesn’t mind.

#THIS IS HOW I SHOW AFFECTION #my fic #winteriron #buckytony #starkbucks

[manawhaat]

The Weight

Title: The Weight 

Character: Bucky Barnes x Reader, mentions of Wanda, Bruce, Tony, and Helen Cho.

Summary: Bucky blames himself when Wanda is hurt on a failed mission. Seeing him in so much pain, you do what you can to help ease the weight of his guilt.

Prompt: “Some people move on, but not us.” for @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings: Angst, guilt, fluff. 

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I wanted to write a little something for my love @sebbytrash for her birthday and this kinda just poured outta me from god-knows-where (jk I know what this is and it’s totally residual Through His Eyes feels lol). Thanks for the last minute beta by my other lady love, @samsexualdeancurious. And I also happened to work in a line to cover a bingo square fill. Thanks for reading and happy birthday, Kales, you bastard ass love of my life. 

“I hurt her,” he says, the self-hate in his voice so harsh it carves a hole in your own chest. With all that guilt eating away at him, you wonder how there’s anything left after all these years. “Wanda’s in a fuckin’ cryo tank because of me.” 

“Hey, she’s still alive. Bruce and Tony are looking after her and Helen’s already on a chopper. You didn’t do anything wrong, Bucky. You’ve gotta know that.” You try desperately to reassure him. To let him know he’s not at fault. “She’ll heal. She’ll be okay.”

His mouth draws into a thin line and his hands run roughly through his hair, pull it back too tight into a bun at the back of his head and it’s then that you see the blood still in his hairline. You aren’t sure if it’s his, Wanda’s, or someone else’s, but he tracks the way your eyes move over him and he huffs angrily. He’s angry at himself, at the accident, at everything in his life. That even now that he’s free of Hydra he still only causes pain.

“Some people move on, but not us, right?” 

The words cut like a knife in the cold night and a dry, humorless laugh falls from his lips before he reaches for his back pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. You didn’t know he smoked but somehow it doesn’t surprise you. Moving like it’s second nature, he lights one up and takes a drag. His face is shadowed by his dark past, by the fresh wounds Wanda wears on her delicate skin, and the cigarette cherry reflects in his stormy eyes. Smoke billows out of his mouth a moment later, swirls around him like he belongs to be wrapped up in it, then finally dissipates into the night sky above. He’s ten pounds of regret bursting the seams of a five pound bag. 

“Bucky, you have to stop this,” you finally sigh, unable to let him continue to cause himself so much pain. Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you close the space between you, reach out and take his face in your hands. “Maybe we can move on, maybe we can’t, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that we try and that you understand that you aren’t him anymore. You’re not the Winter Soldier. You’re just you. And you, James Barnes, are too good of a man to be this hard on yourself. You don’t deserve it, especially after all you’ve been through. Wanda will live, and so will you.” 

Haunted eyes go wide and curious at your words, watch as you stand on your tip toes and flutter closed as the last second before your lips meet his. The kiss is short, no tongue or lust behind it, just a call for comfort. A way to let him know that he is seen and understood and accepted. That he isn’t the monster he thinks he is.

You don’t expect him to say anything, to chase after you when you turn to leave, to take your wrist in his warm hand and your jaw in his metal one, run a thumb over your lips and kiss you, but it’s exactly what he does. Bucky surprises you both and anchors himself to you, squeezes his eyes shut and kisses you in a way he hasn’t ever kissed anyone ever before. He means it; the unrealized strength of his affection and attraction, the depth of his gratitude and gentle hope. 

There’s a heat in his eyes when he pulls away and takes a step back, and your heart tumbles helplessly, happily, off a cliff as you close the space again and kiss him with the same intensity and feeling.

Filled with scarred over sadness and a breath of fresh longing, Bucky holds you tight and doesn’t let go. The two of you stumble back into the compound and he has you keening and blissfully happy to fall into his bed. He lays you down armed with nothing but sweet kisses and soft, slow hands that speak volumes of the man he truly is behind those old scars. 

In the break of day you wake alone in a tangle of sheets, pull yourself together and try to keep the smile off your face as you slip out of his room. The hall is empty and you wander until you see him, standing stock still, a firmness to those soft edges you were lost in under the moonlight. It’s no wonder he’s that stoic soldier again; he’s standing at the entrance to the med bay, a large glass wall giving him an unobstructed view to Helen and her team caring for Wanda. 

He hears you approach but doesn’t flinch. It’s not in his nature to scare easily.

The set of his jaw and those focused eyes tell you one thing, but when you land at his side he reaches an arm out and collects you to his chest. Bucky offers you a tender, tentative kiss, unsure if you want anything to do with him past the one night. You smile up at him, warm and happy, and quell his uncertainty with a kiss of your own, sure and filled with promise. His body deflates and he practically melts into you, arms and chest swallowing you whole as he hides his face in your neck. 

“Helen said she’d be awake in a couple of hours and I can come back to see her then.”

Relief washes over you and give his back a reassuring rub. “That’s good.”

“Will you stay?” he asks against your jaw, face shielded from everyone like he’s telling you some dark secret. There’s a slight quiver to the depth of his voice, a glimmer of hope that you can’t help but give in to, and you know he’s not just asking if you’ll stay with him to see Wanda.  

Those sea glow eyes are a little lighter now that a new day has dawned. Less burdened now that he’s weathered the storm of his own heart and come out on the other end with you still by his side. You pull his face from hiding and press another deep kiss to his lips for good measure and for your own selfish desire.

“I’ll stay with you, Bucky,” you answer honestly, “as long as you want.”

Marvel tags: 

@becs-bunker​ @curlyblondexoxo @ellen-reincarnated1967 @fvckingavengers @plaidstiel-wormstache @princessmisery666 @saxxxology @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @xxloki81xx 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #marvel fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fic #kale is my soulmate and I love her #it's technically not your bday here bc it's 11 but it's your bday in scotland so I'm posting this bitch rn lol