#until Tony walks in and simply. steps right in front of the line of fire. totally fearless. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luimagines · 3 years

Note

Hey, could we get the boys kissing the reader please?

Masterlist

Absolutely!

If the reader gets to give the boys kisses, it's only fair that they get kisses in return!

Fair warning, these are more or less platonic.

Content under the cut!

Twilight

“Twilight I think I died.” You blurt out one day.

Twilight stops what he was doing and tilts his head on your direction. “Run that by me again?”

“This is all a dream isn’t it?” You gulp and pull your hair a bit to feel something. “Did I die? Am I dying? How do I know you’re real?”

Twilight pauses and puts his things down. He walks toward you and puts his hands on your shoulders. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Before I met you, I got hurt...bad... And I had a dream.” You say.

Twilight then bends down and kisses you nose.

The action stuns you and you blink in an attempt to process the absurdity of it.

“Did that ever happen in your dream?” Twilight bites his lip to keep himself from smiling. This was supposed to be serious- you might have been having a crisis.

“No?” You answer with a small child like shake to your head.

“Then you’re not dreaming.” Twilight answers simply.

“Is that how that would work?” You reply.

“Do you want it to?”

“Yes.” You nod and walk with Twilight to help him out with his earlier chores. “I don’t like thinking of the alternative.”

“It’s you’re dreaming I’m sure our group is more than wiling to find ways to induce your awakening.”

“Like what?”

“Throw you off a cliff? Set you on fire? Get the cuccos nice and angry-”

“I’ll take your method over that thank you very much.”

Wind

“It can’t be that bad.” You roll your eyes and put your hand son your hips. “Why do you hate it so much?”

“It’s the principle of the thing.” Wind explained. “If I went back home and they found out I did this, I would never be able to live it down.”

“Would you do it for a Scooby Snack?” You ask instead with a teasing grin on your lips.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Please don’t make me.” Wind whines. “I’d do anything.”

“If it’s any consolation, it’s not my idea either.” You sigh and cross your arms instead. “But the faster we do it the faster we can get it over with. It’s not like we have to talk about it ever again.”

“No please-” Wind gets onto his knee, saying your name and crawling to you that way. “-You’re my last hope. Don’t let this be the end of it.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Wind grabs your hands places a clumsy kiss on your fingers as he pleads. “Can’t it be anyone else? Please! Please, please please please please!”

“Oh my goodness! OK! I’ll go talk to Time and Twilight and see if we can get Legend to do it or something.”

“Yeeees.”

Hyrule

“My everything hurts.” You whined and rolled over, grasping your side in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure there. “Was I stabbed? I feel like I was stabbed.”

“You were, in fact, not stabbed.” Hyrule kneels by your side and lifts your hand to access the wounded area a bit better. “But you did land really harshly on the rock below us. So try to take it easy for a minute, ok? We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

“Who is this we you speak of?” You sigh as the pain lessens and take a deep breath, trying to sit yourself up. “I just see you.”

“Yeah, Wild is on his way over, so it’s about to be we.” Hyrule snickers.

“I see... Thank you ‘Rulie.” You smile a bit and loosen up your muscles. “How did I even fall to begin with?”

“Bad bomb placement.”

“Ah.” You say, as if that answers your question. “Well that explains everything then.”

Hyrule looks up at you and sees your face. “You’ll be ok.”

“I mean I hope so.” You shrug and Hyrule leans in to place a small kiss on your forehead.

“Wha-”

“Magic enhancer. Good for one extra minute of healing time.”

“You’re a dork.”

“You love it.”

Warrior

“I hate this.” You groaned as you walked through the dungeon. “Why are we here again?”

“Because we have a mission to clear the darkness and this is a hotspot. We clear this area and then we can move on to the next until we’re all done.” Warrior shrugs, fully understanding the sentiment but not wanting to ruin his reputation.

“This suuuuucks.”

“I knoooow.” He snickers.

“You’re making fun of me but I know you feel the same way.” You tilt your head back and look at him by shifting your eyes.

“Yeah but you don’t see me complaining.”

You groan louder in response, purely out of spite at this point and shove him slightly by the shoulder.

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?” Warrior asked teasingly.

“I want a sick prize at the end.”

“I can wager in a kiss.”

“Not from you.”

“No?” Warrior laughs louder and spin on his heel, walking backwards as he talks to you just a little ways ahead from where you are. “Am I not worth enough?”

“I have only the highest of standards.” You deadpan.

“I’ll have you know that my kisses are completely worth it.” Warrior twirls his hand upwards for fan fair.

“Doubt it.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“Doubt it.” You grin.

Warrior rolls his eyes but lets you catch up to him before leaning over suddenly and kissing on your hair line.

“Cheap shot.” You snort and push him away. “You’ll have to do harder than that. I bet the prize at the end is cooler anyway.”

“Tough crowd.”

Time

“Time, would you be a dear and help me out with one little thing?” You called out, fighting one of the knots that kept your bag to Epona’s side but Twilight was no where to be found so it’s not like he could help you.

Time looked up and saw you struggling with the bag and the rope that held it in place. An amused smile crossed his face and he got up to make his way over to you.

You huff and stomp your foot when it refuses to let go just in time as the man himself makes it to your side. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I can’t get my bag out!” You whine. “Twilight does such ridiculous knots and I can’t figure it out.”

“Let me see.” Time rolls his eye and steps into your space, checking at the problem in front of him.

It was way more complicated than Time would think Twilight would purposefully do. It looked staged.

Luckily he knows his pup well and managed to get it untangled with seconds.

“How?” You frown and pout. “How did you do that? I thought I would have needed to get my knife or Legend to get rid of the spell.”

“Twilight doesn’t like spells or magic in general.” Time smirks and sees the opportunity in front of him.

You reach out your hand to take the bag with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah I know. Thank you, I was getting frustrated.”

Time grabs your hand with his free hand, bringing it up his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “A hero’s work is never done.”

“A-ah.” You blush with wide eyes. “Right.”

Wild

“I have no idea where to go from here.” Wild sighs and places his hands on his hip, keeping the wooden spoon angled away from his clothes.

“What’s up? Need help?” You stand up and walk toward him.

“The stew needs something. But I don’t know what.” Wild huffs and chews on his lips as he thinks.

“Salt?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” He picks up his slate and takes the rock out, chipping small pieces off before stirring to dissolve it.

He brings the wooden spoon to his lips to taste it but he doesn’t seem satisfied with the result. “It’s better but not enough.”

“Can I try?” You offer and move closer to the pot.

He sighs and gives you the spoon with a bit of the broth. It’s delicious as expected but he’s right. A bit lackluster.

You smack your lips together and move it around on your tongue and try to figure it out. “Maybe Goron spice? Not enough to feel obviously but anything spicy tends to heighten existing flavors.”

Wild thinks about it before going through with your suggestion. He stirs for a hot minute before his eyes light up at the taste.

He spin to you with enough force to startle you, but before you can move away he grab your face with his hands and brings you forward giving you a whopping kiss onto your forehead. “That’s just what it needed. Thank you!”

You wobble for a moment when he pushy you away but you smile regardless. “You’re welcome.”

Legend

“And here we have the best of the rest, Mr. Fancyprance Mcfickle Bottom.” Legend knelt to the ground after speaking and place a kiss on the back of your hand.

“I take it back. We’re doomed. We’re never going to be able to sneak into the gala.” You lament and take your hand out of his gasp.

“How dare you doubt my acting skills.”

“Can you at least try to take this seriously?” You stress. “This is a big moment for the kingdom, if one thing goes wrong tonight, we’re all going to pay the price.”

“It’s not like any one going to die if we don’t do well toni-”

“Did you not read the note?” Your stare widens. “I can’t believe you. There’s going to be an assassination attempt. It’s why we’re even going to begin with!”

Legend pauses as he considers your words before sobering up and standing taller. “Alright. From the top. This is what we have to do.”

“Thank you.”

Four

“Ok, I have no idea where you’re taking me, but it better be good because I’m a lot less graceful when I’m blindfolded.” Four said over his shoulder as you guided him through the underbrush.

“Just trust me.” You grin. “You’re going to love it.”

“I hope so.”

You giggle and continue to push him ahead. “Ok, wait here I’ll be right back. Don’t take it off just yet.”

“You are so lucky I trust you.”

“Good.” You dash off and grab a small parcel that was hidden in a hollow tree truck.

You run back to him and pull his hand in front of him, placing it gently on top of his palms. “There. Open your eyes and open the box.”

Four grips the wrapping and takes the blindfold off with one hand. “What is it?”

“A gift silly!”

“Ok, yeah, but what’s inside?”

“Open it and find out!”

He smiles and gently rips the paper that covering the little box, eyes widening as he recognizes the design within. “How did you get this?”

“I save up for it. It’s a thank you.” You bite you lip and take a small step back. You’re beginning to feel a little flustered by his reaction even if you think you have no reason to be.

Four drops the paper wrapping and opens the box. “You got me this?”

“Yes. I thought we established this.”

Four beams and doesn’t even open the box all the way before he runs at you and practically tackles you over. “Thank you!”

“You’re wel-”

Four take the breath to plant a big ol’ smooth on your cheek, silencing anything else you were going to say.

“Thank you thank you thank you!”

It’s the happiest you’ve seen him.

You can’t even get your thoughts together before he give you another hug and dashes away from you to enjoy his gift.

Or brag about it to the others.

You wanted to avoid that, which is why you brought him all the way out here beyond the camp...but you can never really tell what he’s going to do next.

You smile regardless and touch the spot on your cheek.

At least he likes it.

Sky

“I have no idea how you do this Sky.” You gulp and lean over marginally over the edge. “I hate free falling. How is this a fun thing to do?”

“It’s not so bad when you can trust your loftwing to catch you.”

“I don’t have a loftwing. You keep using that word and I have no idea what you mean.”

“You’ll be fine anyway. The water will catch you.”

“That’s not remotely as reassuring as you think it is.”

“You’re over thinking it. Stop thinking.” Sky laughs a little as he gets closer to you.

“Easier said than done.”

“Trick yourself then.”

“How?”

“A distraction would be a good start.” Sky hums.

“And how to suppose I distract myself?” You deadpan.

Sky shrugs before leaning over and giving you a kiss on the cheek. It stuns you enough that freeze on your spot and Sky takes the opportunity to spin you around by your shoulders and promptly shoves you off of the cliff side.

He dives in right after you when he sees your head pop out of the surface, laughing as he goes.

#linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #oof #Legend's is short #I'm so sorry #same with Sky #linked universe

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.2

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2750

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly.

Steve is not entirely a stranger anymore; he knows about your troubles and you know about his. And he’s determined to sort out yours this very moment.

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, language, something that might be close to a panic attack if you squint

A/N: There we go... hopefully I’ll make mid-week a bit sweeter for some of you ;)

Part 1

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

“W-what?” you stuttered, suddenly consumed by the familiar feeling of losing the firm ground under your feet at the idea of trying to confront Gregory head-on. Not even Steve at your side was helping at all as the four of you started walking towards the IT department.

“I-I don’t have any prove! I can’t-- he told me he would--- that he would-”

“That he’d twist it around, convince the HR that you were crushing on him and he turned you down, which turned you into a soulless bitch craving revenge?” the billionaire finished for you and you just uselessly opened you mouth, unable to let out a word to deny it. It seemed to amuse him, because he scoffed; and there was something very bitter in that sound too. “Kid, he’s not the first asshole to take advantage of his superior position. I’ve seen the types. Relax. If Cap here believes you, then so do I. Plus, I know a liar when I see one. And you ain’t lying.”

You breathed in shakily, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Could it really be so easy? That couldn’t be right…

“T-thank you, Mr. Stark. I-”

“Yeah, yeah, just name your first kid after me,” Mr. Stark uttered, waving it off.

The Falcon next to you chuckled and you shot Steve a confused gaze. Was that how Mr. Stark usually was? You had never met him in person; you had only ever heard him giving a speech on TV and you knew he had a certain reputation, but this was… different.

You were surprised to find Steve watching you; perhaps he worried about your reaction to such bluntness, since he had seen your outburst in the closet. Upon meeting your gaze – probably shy and undeniably surprised – he charmed a tiny smile for you.

“It’s gonna be okay, see?”

“What are you even worried about? You have three Avengers coming with you!” Mr. Wilson questioned lightly and you bit your lower lip as you thought of the source of anxiety indeed.

Yeah, I have three Avengers and they are all men. Sue me for not being sure which side they would take – not until now.

“You’re not a full-time Avenger, Wilson.”

Falcon gasped, clutching at his chest theatrically at Stark’s remark. “Ouch, Tony. My heart.”

You let out a breathy laugh at their banter and felt yourself relax despite your better judgement. You almost let yourself believe it truly would go alright. Well, as much as dealing with such shitty thing could.

“You’re all my heroes,” you whispered timidly, which earned you a bright smile from Sam Wilson.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Cruel, Birdboy. You stole the old man’s line,” Mr. Stark hummed, amused.

“Heh! Sorry, Cap. But I’m sure you have a whole set of other lines to use on her.”

You choked on your own spit as Steve faltered in his steps, his grip on you growing stronger. What the hell did the Falcon just say?

“Oh my God, Wilson, shut up before we get stuck with another harassment report.”

“I don’t think this a subject for joking,” Steve interjected, slightly irritated, and you shot him a grateful look, because he definitely had a point.

Except… once you weren’t in such a sticky situation, you totally wouldn’t mind Steve Rogers using a line on you. Not at all. And his hand around yours felt nice for multiple reasons, the wordless comfort and support only being one of them. It was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of his physical work, and it was bigger than yours, so sweetly and distractingly enveloping yours…

But now it was so not the time.

Your peculiar group approached the office and you didn’t even have the time to brace yourself as Tony Stark simply threw the door open, not bothering to knock.

“Thomas Ian Gregory, you are fired this very second,” the billionaire exclaimed dramatically.

You would think he was just being a drama queen, except he sounded deadly serious, using your boss’ full name which he must have read out on the door, and his eyes were throwing daggers at the man sitting behind the desk, looking as if he was the fucking king of the world.

Your boss blinked in surprise and eyed all four of you; Falcon with his arms crossed on his chest, Ironman minus his suit with a murderous glare and a hand raised towards him as if he wanted to point a finger and then Gregory’s gaze fell on your hand connected with Steve’s; you wanted to retrieve it quickly, but Steve wouldn’t let you, his grip growing firm. Anger flashed through your boss’ eyes for a second, before he composed himself and rose from his chair with an innocently confused expression.

You wanted to puke and you felt your legs turning into a shaking mess of jello. This was it. Now he would use his slimy words to turn this situation around and you were about to get fired and humiliated so much that jumping under a bus would be the most likeable option for you.

“Mr. Stark, it’s an honour. Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

You couldn’t believe this--- this pig. Seriously. Who the fuck did he think he was?! How could he--- just lie so easily, pretending that everything was perfectly fine?!

But Tony Stark was not fooled by the charade and you mentally sighed in relief, sure they must have heard the weight falling off of your shoulders even in Jersey.

“I’m sure you heard me, Mr. Gregory. You quit and you’ll be hearing from the HR soon. And you’ll be damn lucky if this young lady right here won’t sue you.”

You honestly wished you were invisible when Gregory’s gaze flickered to you, subtle anger with a promise of consequences in his irises – consequences that would come should you not cut this bullshit right now.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Stark. If this is about the unfortunate feelings my assistant has for me-”

Tears of rage and baseless shame stung in your eyes at his words and you breathed in sharply to defend yourself; before you could, Gregory continued.

“Though I can see they weren’t very… honest. Obviously my inferior seems to be the ‘love them and leave them’ type, which I should warn you about, Capta-”

Breathless at his malicious made-out theories, you did not expect Steve to drop your hand in favour to tower over your boss, making him shut up with one single glare.

Alright, you could see why he had thought that simply appearing at your office would make Gregory tremble in fear. Your boss actually backed off and learnt onto a table, looking as if he was supporting himself under the weight of Steve’s judgement.

“I met this woman for the first time not half an hour ago, hiding from you, too scared of your dirty hands to return to her own workplace. Trust me, it left an impression, just like you are leaving one now,” Steve grunted menacingly, causing your heart to pound in your chest in fright even with his words not aimed on you. “If I can give an advice, you pack your things as fast as you can, apologize to her profusely, begging for her forgiveness and you don’t set a foot in this building or speak to her ever again. Do we have an understanding?”

You weren’t the only one affected. Your boss tried to reciprocate Captain America’s glare, but he failed miserably. He visibly gulped and circled his desk, still watching the soldier as if he was expecting to get hit; then his eyes just dropped to his desk and he frantically started picking random things from it.

You watched the scene in front of you, paralyzed. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, pulsing in your temples, your breathing alternating between hitching and picking up. Your vision started to swim.

Holy. Shit.

“Cap, I think you broke her.”

Steve spun to you at instant, his eyes roaming your face; or you thought so. He looked worried now; or you thought so. Thinking and frankly evaluating the stimuli your senses were receiving was a bit difficult at the moment.

What the hell had just happened?

Gentle hands took yours, leading you out of the room. You blindly followed, unsure how to put one foot in front of the other, your body running on autopilot.

It was over. Thomas Gregory was no longer your boss and it had happened without you losing your job. And Steve Rogers had scolded him as if he was a five-year old kid – a very pervert one, but a kid nonetheless. Steve put a fucking fear of God into him. All of that happening within three minutes. And you just… couldn’t quite process all that.

You barely registered getting into and out of an elevator, being seated on a couch, having a blanket tossed over your shoulders and a cup of warm liquid pressed into your hands. You automatically brought it to your lips, only to be stopped by a tender fingers curling around your wrist.

“Careful. It might be too hot,” a pleasant voice warned you and you blinked, finally focusing your gaze, finding rather worried and very handsome face staring back.

You glanced at the cup, surprised to identify the drink as Steve’s hand let go of yours.

“Is that… is that hot chocolate?” you stuttered, bewildered. Well, more like… astonished.

“Yeah. You’re not allergic to milk or anything, are you?”

You looked up back to Steve’s face, only to find him with his brows furrowed in concern, lips thoughtfully pursed. It snapped you to action.

“No! No. It’s just… I didn’t have one in years. Thank— thank you.”

His expression cleared, as he was evidently pleased with himself. “Good. You’re welcome.”

The words fell off his lips so easily. As if he just hadn’t… hadn’t saved your career. Or your mental health, really.

You eyed the table by the couch, setting the cup down, only to fully turn to him. He seemed a bit confused at that; but God, you had something important to say and since you didn’t want to give up the blanket just yet, you decided to get rid of the mug at least to look less pathetic.

“No, Steve, I… thank you,” you whispered sincerely, feeling tears in your eyes for like a millionth time that day. His smile widened a little.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I… if I scared you down there. It wasn’t meant for you.”

“You didn’t-” you blurted out in attempt to deny it and make him feel better, only to waver as his eyebrow rose, picture perfect of doubt. It made you chuckle at yourself self-deprecatingly. “It’s not your fault that I was… surprised by your little hulk-out. I guess I just didn’t see it coming.”

“Hulk-out, huh? How do you feel?”

You shrugged, exhaling slowly, thinking hard about your answer.

“Like I just watched my life take a way better turn that I would expect... and I’m still only watching,” you whispered honestly, which led to his face twisting in a grimace.

“Anything I can do?”

You couldn’t help it; you scanned your surroundings, realizing you were in something that looked fancy enough to belong to Tony Stark and was way too big to be part of an actual apartment. You ran your hand down the blanket covering your shoulders, reaching for the abandoned cup to blow on it softly and take a careful sip of chocolate. Steve’s questioning gaze observed you while you did so and you smiled blissfully into the cup as the delicious rich taste caressed your tongue.

“You mean besides comforting me despite being a complete stranger, getting my harassing boss fired and scaring the hell out of him, taking me to--- here, giving me a blanket and making the best cup of hot chocolate I had in years? Give me a second, I’m sure I’ll figure out something else,” you babbled and Steve’s smile grew, tense shoulders relaxing. “Seriously, Steve. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I owe you. I- I know you’re a hero and all that, but… yeah. I should be asking you what I could do for you in return.”

“That’s not-- I’m not--- ...you make a pleasant company,” he said in the end as if he realized he couldn't deny any of the things you had listed. You lowered your gaze to the chocolate as his eyes twinkled at the statement.

“Ditto.”

“Does that-” he blurted out and you tilted your head to side, watching him curiously when he stopped talking just as abruptly. “This is a terrible timing, but that’s apparently an infamous quality of mine, because usually I wait too long, and… uhm…”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suddenly embarrassed soldier scratching the back of his neck, peeking at your through his eyelashes. Was that--- was he trying to-? No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah?” you softly encouraged him to continue.

He wetted his lips, causing your previously tight gut to warm up.

“I understand that it’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now, but… when you settle down again... and things are a bit calmer for you… would you- uhm, like to… maybe spend some more time with--- with me?”

If he had blurted the sentence in one go, you would have dropped your mug in surprise despite suspecting this incredible thing when he had turned bashful. But he didn’t so your brain had enough time to process the words slowly leaving his lips, one after another, little shy, little hopeful. Your heart was speeding up with each of them, ready to burst when he finished with a tiny nervous smile.

Well. How could you possibly say no to that irresistible creature in front of you? You smiled into your drink.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

You wanted to chuckle at the pure surprise on his face, but it was just too endearing and so you had to fight the urge to make an embarrassing sound like an aww instead.

“Yeah, Steve. I’d really like that,” you repeated, hiding the teasing note in your voice. “But you’ve got to teach me how to make a chocolate that good, because seriously, it tastes amazing.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” you demanded, a bit hurt, rather surprised. “I don’t want you to give up your secret recipe right away! Just… in time.”

He grinned at you boyishly, leaning a bit closer to you. You held your breath in anticipating, a the change. “I could. But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the process of preparing it for you and your smile in return.”

You stared at him for few moments, taking the statement in, wondering if he was teasing you or was being serious. The corners of his lips were quirked up as if he was indeed joking, but there was a certain spark of honesty in his eyes.

You decided to play along, whether it was a game or not. Perhaps it was the relief of newly found freedom from a sleazy man in your life that plucked up your courage and woke up your jovial side.

“Aww, Steve, that’s so sweet. Is that your way of telling me you’re planning on spoiling me? Because then I would need significantly less time to… settle down.”

His grin widened at your words. “Is that so?”

“Mm.”

“Well then…” he brought up lowly, torturing you with anticipation when he didn’t continue, only to watch you with a mischievous smile.

“...then?”

“What are your plans for Friday evening?”

Oh, you were so glad you were sitting, because otherwise the force of the moment in which Steve Rogers asked you out on Friday night would knock you down.

You tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound like an over-enthusiastic YES, but his blue eyes staring into yours made it very difficult for you.

Dammit, it was harder to talk to him when you could actually see--- you smiled smugly at the idea that popped up in your head and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“I’m hiding in a supply closet. Why, you wanna join me?”

Steve burst out laughing, throwing his head back with that sound and the picture armed your heart so thoroughly it was unfair.

“Sure thing. Would you like me to bring muffins and coffee or do you prefer an actual dinner?”

You found yourself laughing too and you suddenly believed that your life would indeed get better. It already had, after all.

S.R. masterlist

Beautiful divider by @whimsicalrogers

Thank you for the kind feedback on the first part and I hope you liked this one too :))

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #mcu #marvel #in the strangest place we just might find love #anika ann

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megthemewlingquim · 4 years

Note

Omg meg for Kinktober could you write ❛ your face would look better between my legs. ❜ where the reader is teasing Bucky/Loki (you pick) all night when they are at a party or something? And the reader says that and that's the last straw

Come Again?

Summary: You cross the line with your teasing, and Loki punishes you.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: teasing, dom! Loki, oral (fem receiving), orgasm denial / delay, heavy overstimulating, multiple orgasms, aftercare

A/N: Hi, babes! This is my DAY TWO entry for Kinktober.

You really shouldn’t feel this good about what you’re doing. It’s not really a good thing, not to your husband, who just so happens to be the God of Mischief. But it is, at the same time.

What you’re doing is wearing something incredibly skimpish. Revealing. A dress that doesn’t even reach to your knees and has no sleeves. His favorite color, emerald green. Very, very fitted for you. He would know, he made it for you. But he had no idea you would use it to your advantage.

And Loki can only handle himself for so long before he snaps. You know this.

This is not the first time you’re deliberately trying to get on Loki’s nerves, but this is the first time it’s this… extreme. You’re really pushing your luck.

It’s a party hosted by Tony, one of many that you’ve attended with Loki. The air was different there after you married Loki. The two of you were complete, one flesh, absolutely inseparable, and everyone around you knew it, even if they hadn’t attended the wedding.

Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Bucky, Clint, Steve, Tony, Wanda, Vision, and Sam are all there, along with any S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who wanted to come - not many did.

You’re currently sipping on a Dr. Pepper that Tony so kindly poured in a wine glass. You’re not one for alcohol, except maybe the occasional hard seltzer. Today, you’ve decided, is not a night for alcohol.

Loki is beside you on your left, with an arm draped behind your shoulders and a finger drawing small, slow circles on your right arm. He looks... hm, happy is not the word for it, but he does not look annoyed or irritated. He looks blank.

“Baby?” you ask, an aside. You keep your eyes on Steve, who is currently listing everything that probably happened in those new timelines he created. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yes,” Loki replies nonchalantly, “I’m fine. It’s just that my wife has been absolutely naughty with her attire, and I have a very annoying hard-on, but I don’t want to indulge her because quite frankly, she doesn’t deserve it.”

You freeze, and for a second, you cannot bring yourself to say anything. Your eyes widen, just a little.

Then, you smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

His eyes widen, then, and he leans forward, his lips grazing your ear. “Do not test me,” he whispers, his words laced with dominance and daring. “You know what’ll await you when we get back home if you do.”

You nod, your whole being suddenly stiff with desire and that submissive fear that isn't really fear.

"Now, what do you say?" he asks softly, not pulling away, a little grin on his face now. His tone is almost condescending.

"Sorry," you whisper, your chest heaving. Your mind, however, thinks the exact opposite.

“Apology accepted.” It’s a mystery to you if he believes you or not. He sure makes it seem like he does believe you, but you’re talking to the god of mischief here. You really can't be sure if he's being sincere.

And even if he is, you're not, and you like it.

Time passes by quite slowly, but that doesn't mean it's not enjoyable. Tony offers another toast to you and Loki, the newlyweds, though the wedding was three months ago. Bucky and Steve share a dance. So do you and Loki.

He holds you close, both hands around your waist. You sway from side to side, and he twirls you occasionally. Your eyes are aglow with love, sheer love for him — so much so that you almost forget how you're dressed, and what you're doing to Loki.

Almost.

Now's the time. The time to get what you want.

You lean in at the very end, your lips close to his ear. "Your face is all blushy. It's cute. But it would look better in between my legs."

His grip on your waist gets tighter.

There’s a split second of tension. Then,

"We're leaving," he says simply, and his tone is so quiet, so deep, so dark, that this time you're petrified. Both petrified and incredibly turned on.

Oh, so it's going to be one of those nights.

It’s quite easy to leave, you find out. You suspect that Loki has placed his invisibility on the both of you, so that no one notices you leave. When you both pass Thor from behind, however, he looks around. For a second, his eyes land right on you. But then he turns back around with a shrug, an unseen smile on his face.

“He knows,” Loki mutters. “I don’t give a damn if any of them know... not in any other circumstance. But this...” He takes a hold of your arm. His grip is tight. “This is between you and me this time.”

And with that, you make your way towards the exit.

Walking home is tension filled as well. Loki keeps silent, his arm wrapped around you. It seems protective to the common bystander, but you know that it is also possessive. You stay close to him, gripping onto his coat as if you’re a child.

When you both get home, he locks the front door. A common practice when it’s time to go to sleep, as it is with most families. But, you notice it’s only 7:04 p.m. when you look at the clock on the wall.

He says nothing while you set your coat on one of the dining chairs and your purse on the table. He eyes you with eyes so minimally narrowed that it wouldn’t even seem like anything’s different to them, but you notice. Even now, his gaze is piercing, primal.

You take one step towards the general vicinity of the bedroom, and he pounces on you like an animal. His grip is not too tight, nor is his face too angry - you know what kind of a mood he’s in.

“Did you really think you could get away with that?” he asks, almost smugly. “Naughty little thing.”

He all but throws you on the bed, not exactly man-handling you, but still being a little assertive.

“It was very rude of you to tease me like that,” he says, his tone once again condescending. He clicks his tongue. “Oh dear... what are we to do with you now?”

His eyes glance over your form; you’re still in your tight fitted dress, but your hair is now down. The look in your eyes is different, too: you look small, weaker.

Submissive.

“Well,” he says slowly, inching closer to the bed, his voice dark. “Let’s see. You wanted to tease me so badly, you wanted me to feel that... frustration... so badly. How about we give you a taste of your own medicine, hmm?”

His gaze hardens. “Take your dress off.”

And what can you do but obey?

You slide your dress up and over your torso, and let it fall beside you on the bed in a heap.

“Bra and panties, too.”

You do so, the air seemingly closing in tight around your form. Goosebumps break out, and you shiver. Your eyes never leave his.

All he does is look at you. He doesn’t move. “What are you thinking, pet?”

“I want - “ You swallow. “I want you.”

He chuckles. “It seems like you want a lot of things today. Never fear, pet. But...” his voice darkens again, “remember, this is a punishment. And you need to learn your lesson.

“Lie down on the bed. Do not spread your legs.”

You let yourself fall back, leaving yourself bare to him. A faint green glow appears in your peripheral vision. You hear a quiet buzzing noise, and your breath hitches.

“Oh, yes, pet,” Loki whispers seductively. “Today we’re edging you until you can’t take it anymore. You’re going to feel the same frustration that I have felt, and you will not be able to come until I allow it. Understood?”

You gulp, nodding your head frantically. “Yes, yes, please —"

“Please what?”

Your lip quivers, and you take a breath. “Yes, Master.”

“Good girl. Keep your eyes on the celling.”

Inwardly, you smile. Outwardly, you quiver and shudder in anticipation.

Suddenly, you feel your arms move upward. They are then locked above you, and you look up, seeing spinning neon - green rings of light. They look like handcuffs, you notice, and you lose your breath.

The vibrator trails up your legs, and with every movement you become more and more aroused and needy. It’s so close to where you need it, and yet so far. Loki is a tease, especially in times like these.

He brings it up, right next to your clit, and you buck your hips up with a desperate whine, and he chuckles darkly. “Teasing comes first. Then the pleasure. Then the agony... and, then, eventually, the releases.”

Releases. That’s plural.

He holds the toy there, watching you as you slowly begin to feel the pleasure it brings you. You don't make too much noise. Knowing Loki, moaning could be off limits.

His voice is a deep murmur:

“Do not ask me to come. You will be silent, aside from your desperate moans and whines and gasps. You will not find your release until I allow you to. And once you come, I will keep you here, unable to escape. You’re going to come, then, until you can’t take it anymore. I will force orgasm after orgasm from you until you’re a mewling, pathetic little mess. This is your favorite type of punishment, yes?”

You’re gasping now, both at his words and the feeling of warmth that has now grown into a fire in your gut. Your legs shake and your back arches, but you cannot get him to help you out in any way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he whispers. “Remember, you will not control your pleasure today. I will.” With that, he moves the vibrator a little more upward, right on top of your clit, and you emit a sound that sounds almost like a squeak.

“Do not come.”

He holds it there, almost certainly watching how you buck your hips up and strain against your magicked restraints. You’re practically drenched in sweat, eyes fixed on the ceiling but closing rapidly. Trying to get away, trying to hold your orgasm back, because you both know you’re achingly close —

You practically scream through gritted teeth when he removes the vibrator. Your cry turns into a light, frustrated sob.

He does it again. And again. And again.

Then,

There’s a pause in which nothing else happens. You can tell that Loki’s thinking something, in the middle of hearing your frustrated sobs.

“Have you learned your lesson now, wife?”

Wife. This is when he’s letting up, revealing more of his tender side. The dom is leaving, and the husband is coming onto the stage.

You sob again. “Yes — yes, yes, I have! Please, Master, just let me come! Please, please, pl —”

The vibrator is shoved onto your clit at full blast. Loki’s voice becomes stern again, and he demands:

“Come. Now.”

And your orgasm hits you like a train. Now, you scream through your teeth, almost blacking out at the intensity of it. It’s over as quick as it arrives, however, and it soon replaced by sheer beautiful agony once again as Loki keeps the vibrator on your now overly sensitive clit.

You try to move away. You have the audacity to try to move away.

“What did I tell you? That was only the first half. I’m not done with you yet. You’re going to come until I let you go.”

Your next three orgasms are almost painful, and he rips them from you with no mercy. He stands there, not moving. His eyes are on yours, and they’re almost blank. It’s a miracle his hand hasn’t gotten tired yet.

“Do it. Come again.”

“Again.”

“One more.”

Finally you muster up the courage to cry out, the tears never fading from your eyes. It feels good, too good. You love it and despise it. “Loki...”

“I know, pet, I know.”

You look up at him, then, surprised at the tenderness in his voice once again. The Loki you’re looking at now is no longer the dom, no longer Master. His eyes are softer, kinder. He’s your husband now, and you practically sigh in relief.

“This is the last one. Can you come for me one last time?”

You manage a nod and a breathless smile.

“Good girl. Come, come for me, my angel.”

Somehow, this last orgasm is soft. Gentle. It’s not nearly as painful for you - you can compare it to a slow wave.

You can feel the restraints disappearing as soon as it ends and you instinctively jump away from his touch and curl up into a ball. Your body is still shaking, every nerve jumping and hot. All you can try to do is focus on the feeling of the air on your skin, which is now sweaty and warm, and the somewhat cooler sheets below you.

Loki must’ve slipped into bed beside you, because you feel a weight come against your back.

He waits to touch you. He waits until you say that he can. When you do, he sweeps you into his arms, running his hands up and down your own arms and kissing his way around your neck and shoulders. All the while, he never stops whispering his praise:

“Such a good girl for me.

“You did so well, sweet.

“You can rest in my arms now. I love you, my angel.”

Sleep takes you easily.

#loki smut #loki of asgard #loki (marvel)#loki fanfic #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki odinson #marvel headcanons #marvel asks #marvel #kinktober

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: We’re Going For A Ride, Doll...

Summary: Steve’s been away for a few weeks running a mission, and whilst he’s been away Katie hasn’t exactly had a relaxing time. What better way to relieve a tension than a little night time bike ride… Warning: Language! Smut (NSFW, 18)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: Biker Steve smut…yeah..it’s a kink and this was written purely for my own self-gratification reasons.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

March 2014

Katie let the scorching hot water cascade down her body, loosening her muscles and washing away the last of the tension from her meeting earlier that day. It had been frustrating, middle aged men in trousers trying to prove who had the longest dicks as per usual until her temper had snapped and she’d called time on the finance review, and told them to come back in a few days when they had finished trying to see who could piss up the walls the highest.

Pepper had smirked when she had stormed out of the meeting and declared she was flying back to DC and then her smirk had turned to a frown when she’d seen the look on Katie’s face, instead asking the youngest Stark if she was okay. Truth was she was far from it. She was exhausted having not slept properly for the best part of two weeks now. And the reason for the lack of sleep was that for the first time since she’d started dating Steve, they’d been snapped out on a date and the offending photos splashed all over the internet.

Her flight in from DC had been smooth and, feeling rather refreshed actually all things considered, Katie clutched her coffee as she walked down the corridor, her Louboutins clicking on the tiles as she pressed her palm to the door and strode into the publishing office. She glanced around, nodding to a few people as she made her way to her office, frowning as she felt eyes following her. She turned her head over her shoulder and saw one of the junior admin assistants hastily avert their gaze. She paused for a moment before she shook her head, walking into her office and dropping her purse on her desk. No sooner had she done that, than JARVIS spoke.

“Miss Stark.” “Morning J.” “Mr Stark has asked you pop up to see him.” “Tell him to come here. I’m busy.”

“He said you would say that. He told me to tell you it’s important and he doesn’t want people listening in. He’s waiting in his office.” With a groan she grabbed her coffee and walked back the way she had come, ignoring the glances that were coming her way before heading to the elevator and selecting the floor that housed Tony’s office.

“What do you want?” She demanded as she walked into his office, to see Tony and Happy both looking at something on the screen.

“Good morning to you too, Sunshine!” Tony quipped and Katie let out an angry noise.

“Tony, I’ve got meetings all day. I have a potential author coming in at twelve so…” Tony waved his hand and the screen he was looking at projected the image onto the holodisplay in front of her and her eyes widened. It was a photo of her and Steve sat in her car in the middle of a deep kiss. Steve’s hand was cupping her cheek as hers was tangled in his hair, and she knew exactly when it had been taken, the previous night when they’d been out on a date. Steve had been called right in the middle of their evening for an urgent mission so their meal had been cut short and she’d dropped him home and he was kissing her goodbye.

“Shit.” She groaned, and looked at Tony who grinned and shrugged.

“Yeah, you got papped.” He explained before he paused. “Actually papped isn’t the right word seeing as it wasn’t a professional photographer, they know now to not even bother. This was some member of the public. First we saw was when our daily Social Media monitoring reports picked it up.”

“Are there anymore?”

“A few.” He said, flicking through the photos which basically were snapped in succession. There was one of them breaking from the kiss, Steve pressing his head to hers, then pecking her lips again, before climbing out of the car.

“Can we get rid of them?”

“Oh yeah.” Tony waved a hand. “We already deployed the algorithm, usual stuff…and I tracked down the person who took the original shot and offered him an obscene amount of money to hand over the rights. At first he wasn’t going to do it, but then I told him it was that or I fired a virus straight down the line to blow up his phone.” Katie rolled her eyes “And he believed you could actually do that?” Happy shrugged “Well, we can in a way. Maybe not the blowing up bit but…” “Thing is we don’t know how far this has gone.” Tony shrugged “We can keep the photo off the net but, well, it was already trending when we saw it.” “Under what?”

Tony grinned and waved his hand, revealing the hashtag.

“Stark Spangled Man?” Katie groaned “Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, I was tempted to leave it just for that tag.” Tony mused and Katie rubbed at her temple.

“If the guys at SHIELD have seen this…”

“Already had the Goth Pirate on the phone.” Tony shrugged “Told him I’d deal with it. It’s not like the public didn’t know you two are…you know.”

“Has Steve seen it?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Tony looked at her “He’s your boyfriend. You ask him.”

“I can’t, he’s on a mission and it’s radio silence.” She bit her lip and ran her hand through her hair. “I can’t see him being particularly pleased about it.” “Maybe he shouldn’t have been eating your face in the front of your car then.” Tony shrugged.

“Oh piss off.” Katie snapped at her brother, who simply raised his eyebrow, smirking slightly.

“Kiddo, we can stop the photos.” Happy looked at her, “But the comments and tweets, it’s a huge job and…” “Yeah I know just…” She shrugged “Oh whatever, they’ll get bored eventually. Just make sure no fucking trashy tabloids get hold of it.” Thankfully they hadn’t. But the comments on social media had continued for a week. Most of them were actually pretty nice, saying it was cute and they made a nice couple. Some of them not so nice, commenting on Katie’s appearance and the like, not that she gave a fuck. She’d dealt with comments like that before, knowing full well it came from a place of jealousy most of the time, what she was struggling with, however, was the fact she hadn’t managed to speak to Steve about it at all.

How he was going to react was worrying her a little. A general interest in their relationship was a risk they knew they were running, having gone public in December at the New Years’ Eve gala, but up until that point they had been lucky. They were also careful in that when they were out, they kept to quiet places as much as possible and, as Steve wasn’t huge on public displays of affection in general (holding hands and the odd quick kiss being as far as he went), there wasn’t really anything of interest to pap. Until that night. And it wasn’t just the social media side of things. The gossip at the tower had also pissed her off. It was like some huge secret had been revealed which wasn’t the case. The fact they were dating was public knowledge, but it was more the fact that people had seen the photo in the way they had and she felt like it was undermining her authority at work, which is what had contributed to her lack of sleep and her outburst earlier that day.

With a heavy sigh, she turned around and let her face soak in the stream one last time, then she turned off the water, stepped out and grabbed a towel before she headed back into her room.

Steve had been gone for three weeks now, on an undercover mission. Something to do with some guy planning to flood the US with dirty drugs. She didn’t know much, no longer being at SHIELD she wasn’t party to the secrets and, despite the fact Fury was actually pretty good at keeping her as updated as he could, she always felt stressed and anxious when he was away, not knowing if he was okay. It had been easier when she had been an Agent herself, something which made her sometimes question her decision to quit.

Especially on days like today, with meetings like that one.

Having dried off, she pulled on a pair of leggings before tossing one of Steve’s hoodies on which still vaguely smelt of him and quickly blasted her hair with the hair-drier, letting the waves naturally set before she wandered into the living room. It was nearing dinner time, and she couldn’t be bothered to cook, intending instead to indulge herself in a bottle of wine and a pizza from Seconds.

The pizza arrived when she was halfway through the bottle of wine and by the time she’d had her fill, she’d finished said bottle. She was just on her way to grab another when her phone rang, the familiar sounds of “Only One In Colour” hitting her ears, which was the tone she attributed to just one person.

She hastily ran back to the living and grabbed her phone which was on the sofa cushion, smiling as she saw the photo of her and Steve filling the screen.

“Hey!” she said a little breathlessly and she heard a chuckle on the other side.

“Am I glad to hear your voice” Her soldier spoke and she felt herself tearing up.

“Me too.” She sighed, taking a deep breath “I take it the mission is done?”

“Yeah, took a little longer than we thought. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to call,Doll.”

“It’s okay” She smiled, “When are you home?”

“Yeah, about that.” He said softly, and she took a deep breath, bracing herself for bad news before he spoke again, a playful quality to his soothing voice. “Look out the window, Baby girl.”

Katie felt a huge grin cross her face as that could only mean one thing. In a flash she yanked open the doors that led to her balcony and ran out, peering over the edge. And there he was, in all his glory, waving up at her from where he sat on his bike.

“What you down there for?” She teased as she looked down.

“We’re going for a ride, Doll.” He replied simply and she grinned.

“I’ll be right down.”

“Three minutes. Captains Orders.” He shot back and she turned and headed back into her penthouse.

“I love it when you get all masterful”

“I know.” He gave a little laugh. “Now hurry up.”

She cut the call and headed quickly into her bedroom, pulling off the hoody and exchanging it instead for a long cashmere sweater that finished mid-thigh. It had been a gift from Steve not long before he had left and she knew he loved it on her. It was a deep green colour- “It matches your eyes, Doll”- The fabric was soft, and the turtle neck line scooped slightly so that you could see a flash of her collar bone at either side of her neck. She cinched the waist in with a tan belt and shoved her feet into a pair of matching ankle boots. Grabbing her biker jacket and her helmet, she grabbed her keys and ran to the elevator.

She emerged onto the street and stopped as Steve turned to face her. She gave herself a second to take him in, scanning his dark jeans, white t-shirt and open jacket all set off with a distressed leather belt and matching boots, before she gave a squeal and ran towards him. Steve stood up off his bike and strode towards her, meeting her halfway as she threw herself into his arms.

“Hey.” He whispered softly, his face pressing into her hair as her legs circled his waist. “God I missed you.” “Missed you too.” She mumbled, before she pulled back and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Like, really missed you.”

And then she suddenly became conscious they were in the street. She threw a glance around, looking for any sly public amateur photographers and Steve frowned, spotting her change in demeanour.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She looked at him as he set her on her feet, his hands on her waist. “Let’s get out of here.”

He didn’t press her further, simply led her back to the bike and she swung her legs over the back, clipping the straps of her helmet into place. He settled in front of her and she laced her arms around his waist, under his jacket as he fired up the bike with a roar. Steve took another glance over his shoulder, her eyes visible through the visor of her helmet and they were shining with excitement. Flashing her a smile he turned round and set the bike off, heading up the street.

He drove the familiar route to Rock Creek and after half an hour or so pulled the bike to a halt in the spot he always parked at, a hidden little clearing just off the main parking lot. It was deserted due to the hour, which suited him fine. Cutting the engine he felt Katie shift behind him and he set the stand on the bike before he turned to see his girl taking her helmet off. She fluffed her hair out slightly and then grinned at him as he patted the space between his legs. She jumped off the bike, hung her helmet over the handlebars before she climbed back up, this time facing Steve, her back to the handlebars of the bike.

The little wooded area was dark, bar the moon shining through the lattice of leaves above them and Katie took a deep breath, inhaling the rich scent of pine needles, fresh air and the slight smell of the early spring flowers. The babbling of the brook was loud in the quiet of night providing them with a little background noise as Steve reached out, his hands cupping her face as he drew her to him. Katie closed her eyes, allowing him to take the lead as his tongue slid across her bottom lip and she opened her mouth slightly, his movements smooth and graceful as he kissed her passionately before he pulled away, her bottom lip caught between both of his. He released it gently, pressing his forehead to hers, their noses bumping together slightly.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked her quietly. Katie sighed, and looked down at his long legs which were stretched towards her. Leaning her own legs forward, she hooked her calves around his, the denim of his jeans rustling as it bushed against her leggings. Her hands dropped to his knees and she ran them up the outside of his thighs, her fingers skating the strong muscles as they stretched the fabric of his dark blue Levi’s slightly. “Katie?” he asked again and she took a deep breath before she reached for her phone in the pocket of her jacket.

“Someone papped us, well I say papped, it was more some nosey bastard member of the public…” she sighed, scrolling through to the photo. She handed it to him and he took it from her, fingers brushing hers gently. He glanced down at it and after a second he screwed up his face and let out a breath from his nose.

“Crap.” He muttered before he handed her phone back and looked at her, rolling his eyes.

“Tony managed to get rid of it from the net but…” She shrugged “It’s been a pain in the ass, Steve. All the fucking mumbled little comments in the office and…” She rubbed her neck slightly “Not being able to warn you either.”

“Warn me?” He cocked his head to one side. “About what?”

“Doll, I couldn’t care less.”

Katie looked at him, blinking “You don’t?”

“No, well, I mean it’s not great but, well, I’m more pissed that you got a hard time in the office about it.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She shrugged, before she grinned. “If they carry on I can just fire them all.” Steve chuckled, his hands dropping to hers as he laced their fingers together. “Bet Tony had a field day.” “Yeah, he thought it was pretty funny, especially the hashtag it was all trending under.” “Which was?”

“Stark Spangled Man.” She raised an eyebrow. Steve paused for a second before he tipped his head back, his broad chest and shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter before he shook his head and peeked up at her slightly. “Ten outta Ten for imagination, huh?”

“Well, they’re not wrong.” He said simply, his hands leaving hers and they slid under her ass as he pulled her forward so she was straddling his lap. “I am completely and utterly Stark Spangled…”

“I never wanna hear you say that ever again.” Katie narrowed her eyes as her hands slid up his arms coming to rest on the firm planes of his chest just below his collar bone.

“No?” He asked gently, his hands splaying on her back gently underneath her jacket.

“Not unless you want me to start singing an amended version of your chorus song.” She grinned.

“Shut up.” “Make me.” She retorted, a childish tone to her voice and arched an eyebrow as he looked up at her.

“Brat.” He mumbled, his hand sliding up to her neck, pulling her face to his. The kiss was fierce, his lips warm on hers, the familiar tingle spreading up her spine making her shiver slightly and a soft moan escaped her mouth to his and she felt his lips curl into a smirk against hers before they moved gently from her mouth to her jaw line. He peppered soft, warm and wet pecks down her neck before he gently moved her sweater to the side a little more, exposing more of her shoulder.

The feel of his mouth on her skin was electric, and Katie let her head fall back, eyes closing as Steve’s hands splayed on her back, holding her in position as he kissed every inch of her skin he could find. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed, thickly as he paused his fingers digging into her back.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” He mumbled.

“Not wearing any panties either.” She said softly and he pulled back to look at her, a groan escaping his mouth.

“You’re killing me, Doll.” “Well I was in my comfy stuff and you gave me three minutes to get ready.” She shrugged “Captain’s orders, remember?”

“Because you always do exactly what I tell you.” He said sarcastically, looking at her with those baby blues which were now a dark midnight shade through desire.

“When it counts I do.” She smirked, rolling her hips, pushing down on his crotch. He hissed slightly, his hands gripping her tighter as he bit his lip. Steve took a look round the deserted clearing and his attention turned back to her, his eyes challenging.

“Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish, Sweetheart.” He warned her sternly, his voice low and the tone he spoke with had her twitching even more. She wasn’t one to back down to a challenge, and he knew that, but despite the fact she knew he was playing games, she simply smirked and her hands slid down his chest to his belt, fingers making short work of the buckle before she moved her attentions to the button on his jeans, popping them easily before she slid down the zipper.

“Who says I wasn’t gonna finish it?” She shrugged, as her hand worked into his boxers and wrapped her palm around his warm cock and he gave a low moan, his head falling back as she began to work him.

Katie simply watched his face, his soft lips parting slightly, eyes fluttering shut. Long lashes lay against his rosy cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbed and he gulped slightly when her movements and grip grew stronger. His eyes opened and locked onto hers, his pupils completely lust blown, speckles of moonlight reflecting in them gave her the impression she was looking at the starry sky and he leaned up and pressed his lips to hers in another hungry kiss, their teeth clashing slightly. She felt the heat pooling between her legs as his hands slid under the side of her long sweater, fingers gripping her skin tightly as he squirmed underneath her.

Katie moved her hand more rapidly, loving the effect she had on him. The fact she could undo the stoic, taciturn Captain in matter of minutes was a fucking turn on and she grinned as he buried his face into her neck as she alternated between fast and hard, long and slow strokes. She felt him attempt to thrust desperately into her palm as he let out a low sigh of her name and she tilted his face back to hers with her spare hand and captured his mouth in a hard kiss as she gave him another slow stroke. At that, clearly done with the teasing, he growled into her mouth, standing up suddenly, spinning her round so her back was pressed to his chest. Katie let out a squeak of surprise as one hand kept her supported easily as it hooked over the front of her chest, the other pulling down one side of her leggings then the other. He sat back down, pulling her over him and in a single thrust upwards had buried himself inside her.

The sudden intrusion made Katie cry out as she felt him fill her, and once he was fully seated and she was stuffed as full as possible, he began to thrust upwards, controlling the speed completely. Her thighs were tight around him, and she was powerless to spread her legs apart much as they were clamped together thanks to the fact her leggings were bunched round her ankles, restricting her movement. Instead, she leaned back, arching her back, head falling to his shoulder, shifting the angle slightly which allowed him to drive up into her even deeper. His hands moved, sliding up her sweater to cup her breasts and as he gently tugged on her nipples she gave a loud wail as the sensation speared through her and she pushed down as hard as she could, rotating her hips slightly. Steve’s breath was hot on her ear as he pulled her down with every thrust up that he made, grinding right up against her spot.

“Such a needy little thing, aint you…” he said, his voice low and punctuated by his heavy breathing and she gave a low keen as he nipped at her neck, his fingers tugging her nipples harder.

“3 weeks Steve…” she panted, and he gave a dirty chuckle, pushing up again, bottoming out completely. It was a movement he repeated again and again, his mouth chaining kisses to her neck. One hand moved down from her chest, calloused fingers brushing lightly against her skin, over her stomach, and she shivered at his touch as he gently reached the spot between her legs. As he pushed up again he gently rubbed against her clit and she cried out, her head falling forwards slightly before his other hand moved upwards, gently wrapping around her neck as he pulled her back, his hand turning her face to his where he caught her mouth in a sloppy kiss.

The feeling of being manhandled like that, in the open air, one hand between her legs, the other round her neck, his cock thrusting slowly against her spot was almost too much, and she groaned, writhing on his lap, her mouth falling open, and when she finally found her voice it was raspy as she struggled to form her words.

“Please, Steve…I need…” her hand grasped the wrist which was between her legs, trying to speed him up. He looked down at her, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and concentration, sweat beading on his brow.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” she nodded, and his fingers picked up their pace as did his hips. Her legs shuddered slightly as she felt the white, hot heat rising in her belly and she let out a low cry of his name.

“Come on, Doll.” he murmured, “Cum for me, Sweetheart.” And she did, with a force so intense she couldn’t stop herself letting out a loud “Fuck” as she shuddered, the world fading to dark around her, as the waves of pleasure racked her entire body.

“Shit, Katie.” Steve stuttered, his thrusts growing erratic as be bit down gently on her shoulder and he came with a groan, his hips slowing to an eventual stop as he sagged forward a little, forehead buried against her shoulder.

They stayed still for a while, the silence of their surroundings bar the trickle of the stream providing a soothing background as they both recovered themselves. Katie tilted her head round to look at him. His expression was dazed, mouth open in supplication and she loved seeing him so utterly wrecked. A fresh fucked Steve was the most beautiful thing in the world to her. All golden haired, slack jawed, kiss swollen lips and long eyelashes framing that stunningly handsome face. Taking a deep breath, Steve pressed a soft kiss to her neck before he cracked his eyes open and gave her that beautiful smile she lived for.

“For the record,” she hummed into his mouth as she captured his lips in a small kiss. “I’m well aware you totally just played me.”

He gave a soft chuckle and looked up at her, his blue eyes sparkling “Guilty as charged.” His hands ran up her sides underneath her sweater, fingers gently trailing down her ribs. “But I did tell you we were going for a ride.”

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

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rosequartzwriting · 3 years

Text

Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader

Description: You offer Bucky coffee, with an accidental espresso shot, and the caffeine gets to him. Fall themed!

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev on Jan 21, 2019 / Sorry if Bucky feels out of character, I blame the caffeine I gave him / Written for Alex

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

“Where is he?”

Steve looked up from his breakfast and pointed to the open door of the fridge. Tony was rummaging through it while mumbling to himself, but perking up at the sound of your voice. He had a strawberry in his mouth, there he goes snacking again. Food never seems to last in the tower.

You held up the tray and Tony's face lit up. He wanted you to do his morning Starbucks run. Even if the tower had plenty of coffee and tea options, he needed his pumpkin spice latte and he wanted it done right. You never thought Tony would be that type of person, to like sugary and basic white bitch drinks, but he is apparently.

“I’m not Pepper.” You said blankly, eyeing the man as he approached to claim his drink. “Why did I have to go and get your coffee?”

“Because you’re the one who messed up on the last mission, (Y/N).” Tony answered with an fake innocent smile.

“I tripped!” You gasped in defense, really you tripped. It was an accident but it made a domino effect and you almost costed everyone the mission. The guys in the tower were not going to let you forget anytime soon, it was too embarrassing. And you were thankful Sam didn't have a camera because that would be the worst.

“You just need to have your pumpkin spice latte.” Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Get in the fall spirit, Rogers.” Tony said, taking one of the cups from the tray greedily.

“I can only imagine what he’ll do on Halloween…” You mumbled under your breath. The over the top decorations and his making everyone play along with his enthusiasm...Oh no what about Christmas...you didn’t even want to think about Christmas.

Before you knew it Tony left with his coffee, not even thanking you for going out in the cold to get it. Something wanted you to go follow him and shove the other three steaming hot cups down the front of his shirt, but you refrained since you wanted one of them for yourself.

Instead you bottled up your frustrations and you took one for yourself and gave one to Steve. Tony paid for it so it doesn't matter, free coffee for you then!

While taking a sip of your own delicious latte, you heard heavy footsteps enter the room. Soon Bucky groaned and dragged himself into the kitchen.

“Morning Bucky.” You said, taken aback by his sudden appearance. He simply nodded in response, he was not a morning person. It seemed that your heart jumped to your throat every time he acknowledged your existence, and you’ll take a simple nod as one.

“Come on Buck, wake up. We got training to do.” Steve announced, cleaning up his dishes.

“Yeah yeah I know. God, you’re so loud.” Bucky looked like he could use a few more hours of sleep, or a few gallons of coffee. He slowly made his way to the pantry and stumbled dug for the breakfast bars, a quick breakfast before training.

"Hey Bucky, you want one?" You offered him one of the coffee cups, knowing it was a dangerous game you were playing by speaking to him this early in the morning. But thankfully he didn't chop your head off, he merely turned around to see what you had offered.

"What is it?" He asked, staring at the cup with a blank face.

"Pumpkin spice latte."

Bucky looked skeptical, but took it and raised it to his lips to take a sip. The sugar hit him before the caffeine.

"It's sweet."

"See its not that bad." Steve chimed in, drinking his own latte.

"The future is weird..." He mumbled, sending a slightly amused-looking smile in your direction. You didn't know if you wanted to scream or run to your room and hide.

"Technically its the present." Steve tried to be smart.

"Shut up." Bucky started to walk out of the room, still slightly groggy (the caffeine would kick in soon though) but he looked back. “That scarf looks good on you.”

You glanced down at it, fleece and yellow plaid. You grew shy and scratched the back of your head. “Thanks.” You realized it came out as a mere squeak.

He smiled and left after muttering "Thank you, (Y/N)", probably to get ready for training. Deep down you didn't want to see him go, and you heart pounded when he said your name.

"Weird."

"Hm?" You turned to Steve.

"He usually hates mornings, he looked happy."

It just dawned on you. Everyone feared bothering Bucky when it was too early, and on a normal day he would go into full Winter Soldier mode when anyone dared to step across the line of 'I'm too tired to be alive right now and I'll murder you and burn your body if you get in my face'. Maybe it was the latte you gave him, to your knowledge Bucky didn't drink coffee much.

Then you realized something...

Oh Shit.

"Oh no," You knew Steve would scold you, so you changed your wording in your head before it came out of your mouth.

"What?"

"I gave Bucky the one with the espresso shot..."

The Captain chuckled and patted your shoulder, "Its fine, he needs it."

You slightly laughed, if it made him a little less of a morning grump then why not.

"Don't worry, it probably will not turn out as bad as that one time when Pietro had just regular coffee." Steve remembered.

So many things in the Tower were broken that day, Tony was furious. There was plenty of yelling, and the speedster almost passed out from the overdrive. From that day forwards, Pietro was never allowed to have coffee ever again.

"But I kinda needed that espresso shot..." You groaned.

"Calm down, you'll live." He said it so simply you almost wanted to knock him upside the head. Then he mumbled something; "Also I don't think the coffee was the reason he was happy-"

"What?"

He ignored you.

"Well I'm gonna head to the training room, see ya kid." Cap left the kitchen, leaving you with your latte (that sadly wasn't strong enough to kill your exhaustion) and you finally could have your breakfast. Because someone didn't let you do anything until you fetched their morning coffee (Tony "Im Iron Man and Im Superior To You" Stark).

~~~

"Who gave Bucky caffeine?" Sam announced to everyone in the training room while eyeing the man, who was now finishing his latte.

"You're just a sore loser." Bucky placed the empty cup back on the table and was ready to spar with his friendly rival again. Bugging Sam was his favorite past time.

"No really, who thought that would be a good idea?" Sam didn't drop it.

The glass doors to the training room opened and you walked in, holding your tablet and flipping through the new file you just received from SHEILD headquarters. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, you were abruptly interrupted.

"It was her." Cap threw you under the bus.

"What did I do?" You whined.

And the next few seconds was a quick-fire dispute, remarks shot through the air like bullets.

"You gave Bucky coffee." Sam pointed at you.

"So?" You asked.

"That's a bad idea." Sam snapped.

"Sore loser~" Bucky sang.

"Shut up." Sam shot.

"You are a sore loser Sam" You mocked.

"Shut it!" Sam warned.

"Sooorrrreee loooser!" Bucky stretched out.

"QUIET!" Sam barked.

"I need another." Bucky sighed.

"You are not having another." Sam snapped.

"(Y/N), can I have another?"

"Bad idea" You admitted.

"Enough!" Natasha raised her voice and the arguing stopped suddenly. "God, you three are like nagging seagulls. You don't shut up."

"Sam's the seagull." Bucky made one last snarky remark, making you snort while you tried to hold in your laughter.

Before Sam could attack again, you finally spoke up. "Just got a new mission file from Fury. He says it's urgent."

Steve, Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Clint (who had been enjoying the argument quietly) all gathered around you. You projected the file into a hologram and blew it up so everyone could see.

"Security breach at a lab in France." Nat read the notes.

"So? Just a lab," Bucky shrugged, then thought about it, "right?"

You zoomed into the picture on the file, the logo looked strikingly familiar.

"Haven't we been keeping tabs on them?" Clint asked.

"We have." You worked quickly and pulled up a case file SHIELD had been watching carefully. They matched, the lab's company specialized in fusing technology into human anatomy, in the most illegal ways, sketchy black market stuff.

With a few more buttons pressed, you pulled up the live security cameras of the laboratory. There was a black van parked outside. It hit everyone.

"HYDRA." Steve breathed, and everyone knew it was important to leave to France as soon as possible.

"So who's going, Cap?" You asked, and soon everyone was looking at him with anticipation.

He didn't even need to think, he knew who he wanted. "Nat, Clint, Sam, you're with me on this one."

Those selected celebrated, there hadn't been a decent mission in a while. While those who weren't going, meaning you and Bucky, pouted.

"HA!" Sam jabbed a finger in Bucky's face. "You're not going!"

"Don't care!" Bucky shot back, pretending like it was true. It was a lie.

~~~

With some of the Avengers gone on a mission the tower was a little more quiet, probably because it was still early or because Sam and Bucky were separated. Both were very likely. With everyone else asleep, you and Bucky were the only ones up. After the others went on the mission, you decided to look through some more case files to see if you could find anything that could help down the road.

While sitting in the lounge and listening to some music, you tried to stay focused. You tried to stay awake while simultaneously trying to stay warm from the cold weather outside. It was beautiful and sunny, but it was freezing non the less. Snuggling under a blanket had proven to be a solution to only one of your problems, you were growing drowsy again. If only you had got that extra espresso shot.

Speaking of that espresso shot...

"Hey (Y/N)!"

Jumping from the sudden voice, you looked over and saw Bucky enter the lounge. The couch dipped down as he sat beside you, and he seemed to be full of energy.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Someone's cheerful this morning." You sat up and tilted your head as you spoke.

"I think it was the coffee you gave me." He chuckled.

"Yeah about that..." You started shyly, "I accidentally gave you the one with the extra espresso shot..."

It clicked in his head, "Well that explains it, I guess I couldn't taste it from how sweet it was-" He caught himself, "not that it wasn't good. I liked it. I appreciated it, thanks (Y/N)."

Regardless of his growing awkwardness, which you wanted to explode from because he was too cute, he was speaking a mile a minute.

"You alright, Buck?" You asked, "A little hyper."

"Maybe Sam was right...no more coffee for me." He admitted to himself, looking a bit sad. He must have liked the pumpkin spice latte while it lasted.

”Maybe you need to burn it off.” You suggested.

”Tried to during training, not working, still buzzed.”

“Maybe try going outside, go for a run maybe.”

He gave it a thought, then turned to you with something in his eyes. "What do you say we go for a walk? It's pretty nice outside." Bucky smiled at you.

Forget how cold it was today, going outside to hang out with Bucky was worth it.

"Sure!" You said, maybe sounding a little to enthusiastic.

”Alright, can we go now? If that’s alright?” He said shyly, practically bouncing in his seat.

”Yeah sure, no problem.” You both got up off the couch.

”Okay dress warm, meet you back here.” Bucky dashed off to get his coat. You laughed at how energized he was, and assumed this would be like taking a dog on a walk (or more like a dog taking you on a walk).

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #the winter solider x reader #the winter soilder #james barnes #captain america #the avengers #reader insert #y/n #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson

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blushing-starker · 4 years

Text

Having a boyfriend that's a natural rule breaker becomes even more tedious because now it's two people conspiring together, itching to shatter social norms. Sure, they won't pull the fire alarm stunt to get out of a quiz (that's more Rocket and Groot's style), place mirrors on front steps to confuse Fury and nearly give the principal a heart attack (Loki with an exasperated Thor and cackling Hela) or hire a mariachi band to follow hall monitor Alexander Pierce (Steve had joined Bucky and Sam in that one); they'd never sneak into the air vents, fill them with glitter so the haughty board of directors would be covered in pink sparkles when they cranked the ac (Clint and Nat).

Ok, they did help with that last one, buying the shimmering stuff from T'Challa's sister and slipping five jars into Clint's backpack, but they didn't actually go into the vents.

But that's not the point. The point is there are limits to their rule breaking; Tony's spot on the football team and Peter's participation in the art club too important to risk on something as silly as skipping a quiz. No, they thanked their best friends, unhooked the window lock and slithered out only after finishing and handing in the quiz. They weren't amateurs.

Still, Peter knows Tony literally couldn't have chosen a worse time for their impromptu lunch date. (Luckily, he'd expected this exact situation.)

"Tony, they don't even have bad food today. We could just wait until the bell rang to meet up and eat at the bleachers. Like we always do a day before a big game."

His boyfriend swivels around, hooks nimble fingers into his belt loops to pull Peter closer, never once stumbling even while walking backwards. The grin he shows is manic, just this side of wild to let Peter know this isn't about haunting nightmares and bouts of anxiety. This is normal, too high on a feeling Tony Stark. Which means he won't head back to school unless Peter pulls out all the stops...

He's too exhausted from last night's art project to use up energy on the puppy eyes. So he sighs, tugs on the blue varsity jacket Tony loves to show off, kisses a dimple before turning this untamed creature around.

"Come on, I found a new route to that shawarma place with MJ and Ned last week." It sounds exasperated, but Tony knows Peter will do anything to keep him happy. Well. Not anything. There's only so many times they can discuss Star Wars before simply agreeing to disagree on whether Han and Luke are pan or bi.

"What, and you tell me this now?", Tony squawks indignantly from Peter's left side, freezing nose nuzzling into Peter's neck as revenge.

Like a robber caught sneaking into a vault, he raises his hands instantly before shoving Tony away.

"Hey, you were focusing on practice! If I told you, you'd bring Rhodey, he'd bring T'Challa and then Shuri would pop up and who goes where she goes? Bucky, which means Steve and Sam, who'd already be there thanks to Rhodey and of course Clint would somehow appear with Nat. We'd be together so Ned and MJ are gonna be teasing with Betty and half the guys in our grade have a crush on Nat, or MJ or Shuri or Betty or you. So what's the end result? The entire football, soccer, basketball and swim team eating shawarma a week before the games. I am not hearing Coach Coulson scold me for you guys breaking diet again. I'm already on his list, another situation like that and I'll have to run fifteen laps around the field."

"Oh come on, you can do those in your sleep." He could, but again, not the point.

"With a weighted backpack, Tony."

"Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't want that."

"Before cycling fifteen laps and then swimming fifteen laps."

"Jesus, why would he even do that?" Tony looks at him then, disgruntled at the thought of his boyfriend doing all that.

He shrugs, doesn't want to explain Peter had done it once when it all got too much and he'd needed to release the pent up energy. He hadn't noticed Coach watching him, ready to come help if he hurt himself. They'd talk afterwards, Coulson making him promise to never do that alone. Now it became a reward and a punishment. Peter won the art contest? Fifteen everything to focus his mind and not go jumping off walls in his excitement.

His students wolfing down a thousand calories before a game? Fifteen everything so Peter would at least "time it so it's not during the season, Jesus". To be fair to Peter, Tony participated in almost all the sports teams so scheduling was hard.

"Listen, just don't eat a whole animal, ok? We can split it, eat enough," he glares at Tony, pushing through even as the puppy eyes come out, "and then head to the movies. They're showing Aliens for a few days cuz of Halloween and I already texted the guys to come during lunch."

His boyfriend, smart and sharp and witty, just blinks at him. "But we have class after lunch."

"Technically, but I convinced Mr Pym to let the class out of lab so we could all hang out. It's the one class we share so now the whole group can see it together."

Tony stops, eyes wide and mouth open.

"You, what, planned this?"

"Yeah, something fun before tomorrow to take it off your mind for a while. Or, you know, not make it stand out as much. I know how focused you get, and it's really great, having that as a goal, strategizing and taking it seriously. But I also know it can be a lot, so I thought we should all hang out since each of us has something coming up and we aren't spending much time together. Which I get, responsibilities and family and school; I just missed it and I can't be the only one, right? So yeah, this was planned. Like, two weeks ago. When MJ found the new route, it was like a sign. And I really want you to relax and enjoy the whole, I have friends that care for me and a boyfriend that loves-"

He slaps a hand on his mouth, eyes impossibly wide and cheeks flaming. Tony and Peter stand immobile, the world reduced to beat up sneakers breaking the simplicity of yellow lines on black, a flickering neon sign telling them the shawarma place is open and two hearts slowly starting to beat again after that confession.

Ned would say it's romantic. MJ would bluntly remind them it's a bad idea to stand in the middle of the road even if they're saying I love you. And with good reason, since there's the telltale roar of a car bursting with teenagers, voices howling out the lyrics to an AC/DC song. And of course Peter notices the noise of rubber swerving against gravel, the screeching of old brakes and a few terrified shrieks harmonizing with a sharp wind blasting into him out of nowhere. Before he can react, Tony is there, wrapping his arms around Peter and shoving them both into the little patch of grass that grows from a crack in dirty pavement.

There's a moment where his whole world flips, tumbles until he screws his eyes shut and prepare himself for whatever the fuck caused that noise. But nothing comes. Only a sigh blowing a stray curl away from his forehead. But a sigh? Why would?

Tony.

He gasps, jolts upright and apologizes when that just serves to jostle his boyfriend further into the ground. His boyfriend who'd flip them so Peter wouldn't be hurt. Tony is peering at him through half shut eyes, discomfort clear on the grimace he tried to transform into a sheepish grin.

"So, you love me, huh?"

It's the stupidest thing Tony Stark has ever said.

"What the fuck were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt, you could have shattered a wrist, dislocated a shoulder, torn an ACL, bent a leg-"

"This is not what I expected. Also it was a three foot leap forward on grass, I'm fine, Peter."

"Or bashed your head, or busted an arm and then what would you do for the game tomorrow? Who the hell does that?"

"The guy you love, apparently."

"That's not the point, Tony, that's unimportant because you nearly got hurt. Christ, Coulson will slaughter me if there's a scratch on you, and then your mom would be sad and I'd be sad because, what would I do without you? And don't you ever do that again, I can't take it. I am not losing you, Tony. God, why would you do that, risk so much on-"

"On you? Babe, I'd do it again. Ok, not the right thing to say based on the whole face thing you got going on right now. But just hear me out. Don't, stop hitting me, ow, why are you hitting, how are you this strong, Jesus. Ow, stop it. Peter, for fuck's sakes, I love you, you animal. Now please let go of the jacket, it'll get wrinkles."

His hands unclasp the soft cotton, Tony falling back with a groan and Peter's unhinged jaw snapping shut after fifteen seconds of letting the flies in.

It's a wonderful thing, hearing the guy he's loved for so long say it back, say he loves Peter.

It's also fucking stupid since there's even more reason to not do stunts like that.

"You're an idiot. I'm in love with a guy that has one shared brain cell with Steve. You could have been hurt, Tony. And what would that have done, huh?"

His boyfriend sighs yet again, wraps an arm around Peter to push them from the ground and heads to the car where their friends are gawking. He waves them off, offers a "Yeah, I know I'm amazing, no, I didn't break anything, T'challa, yes, I can play, Jesus, Rogers, I can read you like a book. I appreciate the worry, Bruce; Nat, thanks for calming him down. Rhodes, excellent driving. No need to hog the seats, Sam, we need to settle in. Peter, you can keep cursing me out if you, yeah, see how it's nice being fun size when you fit in my lap in a car full of people. What, I'm not walking after that, I don't care if it's til we reach the parking. Let's go, Rhodes. Pepper, I'm fine. "

Clint offers a high five. Tony responds and that's that. Out of sight, Ned gives him a fist bump and MJ keeps on reading her book. It could just be his imagination, but Tony's sure she's smiling, approval clear on her face. He preens, glad to have her blessing, and settles his head on Peter's fluffy hair.

-----

When they're all laughing in a booth, smashed together and picking food off of everyone's plate, Peter nuzzles the crook of his neck, holds his hand and squeezes it. Tony smiles, lights up and shoves at Sam's face when the trio of best friends tease him for puffing his chest out when his boyfriend ever so softly says, "I love you."

"I love you, too." The table whoops and calls for another round of food and Coca-Cola, their family grinning at them and fondly teasing the new couple. Tony grins back, high on this feeling of warmth and happiness and safety and love.

And then Peter presses ice cold lips onto his neck and he lets out a shout, pain coursing through him when a knee slams into the table. His eyes water and through the haze of agony he sees their friends exchanging cash, some grumbling and others smirking. Rhodey and MJ, he notes, are the ones that win the most. They high five before pocketing the cash and ordering dessert.

Peter kisses his cheek, smile innocent and eyes wicked. It's his own fault Tony snatches an ice cube and slips it below his Nirvana shirt. He only has five seconds to lord his victory over Peter before there's ice cream being smeared on his cheek. They battle then, accidentally sending food into Wanda's lap, Clint's hair and Bucky's face.

In less than a minute they are all covered in shawarma and participating in the fight. Peter shrieks when Tony pulls him into his lap, gets chicken on the varsity jacket and tries to wriggle away. But Tony kisses him, tastes ice cream and joy, thanks whoever decided to give him a break and find this incredible person dozing on the roof of the school with Ned and MJ one spring afternoon. Peter kisses back and, at the same time, they say, confidently, honestly,

"I love you."

This is dedicated to @drarryismyshit07

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marvelousmarvelimagines · 4 years

Text

I Thought I Lost You Kisses

Pairing - Tony Stark x Reader

Summary - Based on the prompt, “I thought I lost you,” kisses. Tony and you have broken up, but neither of you wants to let the other go. Will circumstances force your separation anyway.

Word Count - 1,674

Warnings - Language and canon typical violence

From the moment that it had happened, you had known it was a mistake. Tony Stark was everything to you. The last thing that you had wanted was to break up with him. The two of you were stubborn, your fights legendary when they occurred. All you had wanted was for him to take a break, get some sleep, but it seemed as if the Avengers would always be a priority over everything. You had said things that you didn’t mean about how you didn’t believe he loved you anymore. While he had been pissed off you would even make the suggestion. You had been jealous, bitter at the lack of time you had with him, not to mention stressed from your own job, and let it get to your head.

If you had taken a step back, thought it through, you would have realized that.

Instead, you decided that it wasn’t worth it.

You didn’t think there would ever be a time that you could forget the expression on his face. Tony Stark was always a mask. A bravado of wit and confidence to behold no matter what the circumstance. There was such a small group of people that he let that facade fade away with. You were one of them.

It had been so easy to read the expression of hurt on his face before he tried to cover it up. The instant you saw it, you knew that you had fucked up, but you had no idea how to make it right. How could you take something back moments after you had said it? Especially with the anger and jealousy hanging over you like a cloud that blocked out the sun?

So you did nothing, said nothing, and the both of you retreated deeper into your work, ignoring the concerned glances and sincere questions from your friends who noticed your behaviors. It was sweet of them, but you couldn’t answer them, not without breaking down yourself.

Because every second that Tony wasn’t in your life hurt like hell. You missed everything about him. The way he’d have your coffee ready in the mornings, the kiss on your forehead before you left for work. You even missed watching him tinkering while you told him all about whatever stupid thing had happened at headquarters that day. No matter how unimportant or how deep into a project he seemed to be, he always listened. Most of all? You missed curling up at his side and letting him hold you at night.

To put it simply, you were miserable, and you didn’t think that he was any better.

Not everyone noticed. It was like you had said, Tony Stark had a mask that he hid his emotions behind. Only his closest friends noticed the difference. You saw the signs though. The dark circles under his eyes, the way he would jump at any sudden noise, the tenseness of his shoulders as he walked around the compound from one project to the next.

Then there was the way that he would stare at you when he thought you weren’t looking. It was pretty similar to the way that you would look at him. It was clear that you had made a mistake, and you wanted to fix it, but your pride had stopped you for so long, you were having trouble overcoming it and admitting you had messed up. You had never been a fan of talking things out in the first place, always preferring to show your feelings with actions instead of words.

Perhaps that was why you had jumped in front of the bullet for him.

Of course if you had thought it out, you would have realized how stupid it was to do that. Tony was wearing the suit. One bullet wasn’t going to do enough damage to even dent it. You supposed it had been an instinct to protect the person you loved the most that triggered you into action, no matter how useless.

The bullet hit you in the stomach, and it hurt like hell. You had never expected it to hurt like this. You felt the blood dripping through your fingers as you collapsed on your back, closing your eyes and groaning as the white hot pain shot through your body.

Hearing him yell your name forced your eyes open, and you watched as his face blurred in and out of your vision while you struggled to hold on to consciousness. He was saying something, screaming it as his head turned from you back to someone else. You gasped out loud as you felt his arm wrap around you and tug you into his chest. Oddly, you found the pain more manageable with your face tucked into his neck, breathing in the comforting scent of him. With feeble fingers, you tried to grab a hold of him, but your fingers were too weak to grip anything, sliding across the smooth metal of his armor. He said your name again, but this time it sounded muffled, almost as if you were underwater. He was closer now, so you could see the pure panic in his eyes as he pulled back enough to see your face.

It was the last thing you remembered.

____________________

The pattering of rain against the window roused you from your slumber. It took a few moments for you to open your eyes, but when you did, you took in the pristine white ceiling above you. You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering where you were, before the quiet beeping of the heart monitor beside you clued you in, followed by the pain in your abdomen. You let out a groan and reached down to find it covered in bandages.

“Hey, watch it. If you mess up Dr. Banner’s stitch work he’ll come in here and give you a lecture.”

You tilted your head to find a familiar person sitting at your side.

Tony looked rough. His hair was even more of a mess that usual, his skin pale and dark circles prominent under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and while you were sure that you looked like shit, you weren’t sure which one of you looked worse. “You look like hell.” You told him, your voice coming out hoarse with unuse.

He didn’t seem to be in a joking mood. “What the hell were you thinking? You almost died.” He grabbed a cup of water from the bedside table and put it up to your lips, ignoring your pout at being babied.

While you hated being pampered, you had to admit that water tasted better than anything you had ever had in your life at that moment. You sipped it, not wanting to make yourself sick, until the cup was halfway empty and Tony pulled it away. When he put the cup back down he stared at you, waiting for you to say something, but you found you couldn’t look at him. All you could imagine was that terror in his eyes as he held your broken body against him. So you turned your head away, watching the rain hit the window. “I was thinking I couldn’t let you die.”

“I was wearing the suit! Nothing would have -!”

“I know okay!” You said, your voice coming out much stronger now that you had drank something. “I wasn’t thinking. I saw him point the gun at you and fire, and all I could think about . . .” You turned to face him once more, tears starting to pool in your eyes as you replayed the moment and your emotions over and over in your head. “All I could think about was that even if I had lost you . . . I couldn’t let the rest of the world.”

“And what do you think that would have been like on my end?” He snapped, the frustration clear in his voice. “Knowing that you had sacrificed yourself for me?” He leaned forward so you had a better look at his face, disbelief in every line of it.

You looked down to avoid his gaze. It was easier to talk to him when you weren’t looking at him. “I didn’t think you’d care after I was such a bitch.”

Your words were met with silence. And more silence. And even more silence until you couldn’t bare it for another second. Tony’s expression was unreadable as he stared at you, but it was so intense it made the blood rush to your cheeks. After what seemed like an even more agonizing amount of time, Tony spoke. “You thought I wouldn’t -”

Before he could even finish his own sentence, he had closed the distance between the two of you and met your lips in a bruising kiss. You were startled for half a second, but then responded immediately, returning his kiss as passionately as you could, ignoring the pain it caused when you reached up to tangle your hands in his hair so you could keep him close. You never thought you were going to get the chance to kiss him again, and you were not going to risk letting him get away this time.

He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to break the kiss either. In fact, he seemed to be as desperate for it not to end as you. He held you and moved his lips against yours with more desire than it seemed like he had in months. It was so much, almost too much for your poor, broken body to handle, the way you could feel his emotions in everything from his lips to the tight grip of his hands holding your hips.

Eventually though, it had to end, but Tony made no move to put distance between the two of you, pressing a soft kiss to every bit of skin that he could reach. “If you think I wouldn’t care . . .” He pulled back so you could see his face while he brushed some hair from your face. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

#tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark x you #iron man x reader #marvel imagine

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Kinks: We’re Going For A Ride, Doll...

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT- This entire series is SMUT so NSFW and NO UNDER 18s!!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark.

A/N: Biker Steve smut…yeah..it’s a kink. Enjoy.

SSK Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

Pepper had smirked when she had stormed out of the meeting and declared she was flying back to DC and then her smirk had turned to a frown when she’d seen the look on Katie’s face, instead asking the youngest Stark if she was ok. Truth was she was far from it. She was exhausted having not slept properly for the best part of two weeks now. And the reason for the lack of sleep was that for the first time since she’d started dating Steve they’d been snapped out on a date and the offending photos splashed all over the internet.

“Miss Stark.” “Morning J.” “Mr Stark has asked you pop up to see him.” “Tell him to come here. I’m busy.”

“He said you would say that. He told me to tell you it’s important and he doesn’t want people listening in…he’s waiting in his office.” With a groan she grabbed her coffee and walked back the way she had come, ignoring the glances that were coming her way before heading to the elevator and selecting the floor that housed Tony’s office.

“What do you want?” she demanded as she walked into his office, to see Tony and Happy both looking at something on the screen.

“Hey Kiddo, morning to you too…”

“Tony, I’ve got meetings all day. I have a potential author coming in at 12 so…” Tony waved his hand and the screen he was looking at projected the image onto the holodisplay in front of her and her eyes widened. It was a photo of her and Steve sat in her car in the middle of quite a deep kiss. Steve’s hand was cupping her cheek as hers was tangled in his hair, and she knew exactly when it had been taken, the previous night when they’d been out on a date. Steve had been called right in the middle of their evening for an urgent mission so their meal cut short, she’d dropped him home and he was kissing her goodbye.

“Shit.” She groaned, and looked at Tony who grinned and shrugged.

“Yeah, you got papped…” he said, before he paused “Actually papped isn’t the right word seeing as it wasn’t a professional photographer, they know now to not even bother. This was some member of the public. First we saw was when our daily Social Media monitoring reports picked it up.”

“Are there anymore?”

“Can we get rid of them?”

“Oh yeah.” Tony waved a hand, “We already deployed the algorithm, usual stuff…and I tracked down the person who took the original shot and offered him an obscene amount of money to hand over the rights. At first he wasn’t going to do it, but then I told him it was that or I fired a virus straight down the line to blow up his phone.” Katie rolled her eyes “And he believed you could actually do that?” Happy shrugged “Well, we can in a way…maybe not the blowing up bit but…” “Thing is we don’t know how far this has gone.” Tony shrugged “We can keep the photo off the net but…well, it was already trending when we saw it.” “Under what?”

Tony grinned and waved his hand, revealing the hashtag.

“Stark Spangled Man?” Katie groaned “Jesus Christ…”

“Yeah, I was tempted to leave it just for that tag.” Tony mused and Katie rubbed at her temple.

“If the guys at SHIELD have seen this…”

“Already had the Goth Pirate on the phone.” Tony shrugged “Told him I’d deal with it. It’s not like the public didn’t know you two were…you know.”

“Has Steve seen it?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Tony looked at her “He’s your boyfriend. You ask him.”

“Oh piss off.” She snapped at her brother, show simply raised his eyebrow, smirking slightly.

“Kiddo, we can stop the photos…” Happy said, looking at her, “But the comments and tweets, it’s a huge job and…” “Yeah I know just…” she shrugged “Oh whatever, they’ll get bored eventually. Just make sure no fucking trashy tabloids get hold of it.” Thankfully they hadn’t. But the comments on social media had continued for a week. Most of them were actually pretty nice, saying it was cute and they made a nice couple. Some of them not so nice, commenting on Katie’s appearance and the like, not that she gave a fuck. She’d dealt with comments like that before, knowing full well it came from a place of jealousy most of the time, what she was struggling with was the fact she hadn’t managed to speak to Steve about it at all.

What his reaction was going to be was worrying her. Public interest in their relationship was a risk they knew they were running, having gone public in December at the New Years’ Eve gala, but up until that point they had been lucky. They were also careful in that when they were out, they kept to quiet places as much as possible and as Steve wasn’t huge on public displays of affection in general (holding hands and the odd quick kiss being as far as he went) there wasn’t really anything of interest to pap…until that night. And it wasn’t just the social media side of things. The gossip at the tower had also pissed her off. It was like some huge secret had been revealed which wasn’t the case. The fact they were dating was public knowledge, but it was more the fact that people had seen the photo in the way they had and she felt like it was undermining her authority at work, which is what had contributed to her lack of sleep and her outburst earlier that day.

With a heavy sigh she turned around and let her face soak in the stream one last time, then she turned off the water, stepped out and grabbed a towel before she headed back into her room.

Steve had been gone for three weeks, on an undercover mission. Something to do with some guy planning to flood the US with dirty drugs. She didn’t know much, no longer being at SHIELD she wasn’t party to the secrets and despite the fact Fury was actually pretty good at keeping her as updated as he could, she always felt stressed and anxious when he was away, not knowing if he was okay. It had been easier when she had been an Agent herself, something which made her sometimes question her decision to quit.

Especially on days like today, with meetings like that one.

Yeah, it had been a long three weeks.

She hastily ran back to the living and grabbed her phone which was on the sofa cushion, smiling as she saw the photo of her and Steve filling the screen.

“Hey!” she said a little breathlessly and she heard a chuckle on the other side.

“Am I glad to hear your voice” her soldier spoke and she felt herself tearing up.

“Me too.” She said, taking a deep breath “I take it the mission is done?”

“Yeah, took a little longer than we thought. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to call Doll.”

“It’s ok.” She smiled, “When are you home?”

“Yeah, about that…” he said softly, and she took a deep breath, bracing herself for bad news before he spoke again, a playful quality to his soothing voice “Look out the window baby girl.”

“What you down there for?” she teased as she looked down.

“We’re going for a ride Doll.” He replied simply and she grinned.

“I’ll be right down.”

“3 minutes. Captains Orders.” He shot back and she turned and headed into her penthouse.

“I love it when you get all masterful” she teased and he gave a little laugh.

“I know.”

“Hey…” he said softly, his face pressing into her hair as her legs circled his waist. “God I missed you.” “Missed you too.” She mumbled, before she pulled back and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Like, really missed you.”

And then she suddenly became conscious they were in the street. She threw a glance around, looking for any sly public amateur photographers and Steve frowned, spotting her change in demeanour.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She looked at him as he set her on her feet, his hands on her waist “Let’s get out of here.”

“What’s on your mind?” he asked her quietly. Katie sighed, and looked down at his long legs which were stretched towards her. Leaning her legs forward she hooked her calves around his, the denim of his jeans rustling as it bushed against her leggings. Her hands dropped to his knees and he ran them up the outside of his thighs, her fingers staking the strong muscles as they stretched the fabric of dark blue Levi’s slightly. “Katie?” he asked again and she took a deep breath before she reached for her phone in the pocket of her jacket.

“Someone papped us…well I say papped, it was more some nosey bastard member of the public…” she said, scrolling through to the photo. She handed it to him and he took it from her, fingers brushing hers gently. He glanced down at it and after a second he screwed up his face and let out a breath from his nose.

“Crap.” He muttered before he handed her phone back and looked at her, rolling his eyes.

“Tony managed to get rid of it from the net but…” she shrugged “It’s been a pain in the ass Steve, the fucking mumbled little comments in the office and…” she rubbed her neck slightly “Not being able to warn you either.”

“Warn me?” he cocked his head to one side “About what?”

“The fact you were all over the internet eating my face.” She shrugged and he gave a snort of laughter “Didn’t want you walking back into base and being blindsided. I know you’re not big into PDAs and I figured if the guys from STRIKE got hold of it, hell, if Nat got hold of it…” “You think I give a damned about that?” Steve frowned “Doll, I couldn’t care less.” Katie looked at him, blinking “You don’t?”

“No, well, I mean it’s not great but, well, I’m more pissed that you got a hard time in the office about it.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She shrugged, before she grinned “If they carry on I can just fire them all.” Steve chuckled, his hands dropping to hers as he laced their fingers together “Bet Tony had a field day.” “Yeah, he thought it was pretty funny, especially the hashtag it was all trending under.” “Which was?”

“Stark Spangled Man.” She said, raising an eyebrow. Steve paused for a second before he tipped his head back, his broad chest and shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter before he shook his head and peeked up at her slightly.“10 outta 10 for imagination, huh?” she shrugged, grinning herself.

“Well, they’re not wrong…” he said simply, his hands leaving hers and they slid under her ass as he pulled her forward so she was straddling his lap. “I am completely and utterly, Stark Spangled…”

“I never wanna hear you say that ever again.” She said, narrowing her eyes as her hands slid up his arms coming to rest on the firm planes of his chest, just below his collar bone.

“No?” he asked gently, his hands splaying on her back gently underneath her jacket.

“Not unless you want me to start singing an amended version of your chorus song.” She grinned.

“Shut up.” “Make me.” She retorted, a childish tone to her voice and arched an eyebrow as he looked up at her.

“Brat.” He mumbled, his hand sliding up to her neck, pulling her face down to his. The kiss was fierce, his lips warm on hers, the familiar tingle spreading up her spine making her shiver slightly and a soft moan escaped her mouth to his and she felt his lips curl into a smirk against hers before they moved gently from her mouth to her jaw line. He peppered soft, warm and wet pecks down her neck before he gently moved her sweater to the side a little more, exposing more of her shoulder.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” He mumbled.

“Not wearing any panties either…” she said softly and he pulled back to look at her, a groan escaping his mouth.

“You’re killing me doll.” “Well I was in my comfy stuff and you gave me 3 minutes to get ready.” She shrugged “Captain’s orders, remember?”

“Because you always do exactly what I tell you…” he said sarcastically, looking at her with those baby blues which were now a dark midnight shade through desire.

“When it counts I do.” She said, rolling her hips, pushing down on his crotch. He hissed slightly, his hands gripping her tighter as he bit his lip. Steve took a look round the deserted clearing and his attention turned back to her, his eyes challenging.

“Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish Sweetheart.” He said sternly, his voice low and the tone he spoke with had her twitching even more. She wasn’t one to back down to a challenge, and he knew that, but despite the fact she knew he was playing games, she simply smirked and her hands slid down his chest to his belt, fingers made short work of the buckle before she moved her attentions to the button on his jeans, popping them easily before she slid down the zipper.

“Who says I wasn’t gonna finish it?” she shrugged, as her hand worked into his boxers and wrapped her palm around his warm cock and he gave a low moan, his head falling back as she began to work him.

Katie simply watched his face, his soft lips parting slightly, eyes fluttering shut. Long lashes lay against his rosy cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbed and he gulped slightly when her movements and grip grew stronger. His eyes opened and locked onto hers, his pupils completely lust blown, speckles of moonlight reflecting in them gave her the impression she was looking at the starry sky and he leaned up and pressed his lips to hers in a hungry kiss, their teeth clashing slightly. She felt the heat pooling between her legs as his hands slid under the side of her long sweater, fingers gripping her skin tightly as he squirmed underneath her.

Katie moved her hand more rapidly, loving the effect she had on him. The fact she could undo the stoic, taciturn Captain in matter of minutes was a fucking turn on and she grinned as he buried his face into her neck, alternating between fast and hard, long and slow strokes. She felt him attempt to thrust desperately into her palm as he let out a low sigh of her name and she tilted his face back to hers with his spare hand and captured his mouth in a hard kiss as she gave him another slow stroke. At that, clearly done with the teasing, he growled into her mouth, standing up suddenly, spinning her round so her back was pressed to his chest. Katie let out a squeak of surprise as one hand kept her supported easily as it hooked over the front of her chest, the other pulling down one side of her leggings then the other. He sat back down, pulling her over him and in a single thrust upwards had buried himself inside her.

“Such a needy little thing, aint you…” he said, his voice low and punctuated by his heavy breathing and she gave a low keen as he nipped at her neck, his fingers tugging her nipples harder.

“Please, Steve…I need…” her eyes locked onto his, her hand grasping the wrists of his hand which was between her legs, trying to speed him up. He looked back at her, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and concentration, sweat beading on his brow.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” she nodded, and his fingers picked up their pace as did his hips. Her legs shuddered slightly as she felt the white, hot heat rising in her belly and she let out a low cry of his name.

“Come on Doll…” he murmured, “Come for me sweetheart.” And she did, with a force so intense she couldn’t stop herself letting out a loud “Fuck” as she shuddered, the world fading to dark around her, as the waves of pleasure racked her entire body.

“Shit, Katie…” Steve stuttered, his thrusts growing erratic as be bit down gently on her shoulder and he came with a groan, his hips slowing to an eventual stop as he sagged forward a little, forehead buried against her shoulder.

They stayed still for a while, the silence of their surroundings bar the trickle of the stream providing a soothing background as they both recovered themselves. Katie tilted her head round to look at him. His expression was dazed, mouth open in supplication and she loved seeing him so utterly wrecked. A fresh fucked Steve was the most beautiful thing in the world to her. All golden haired, slack jawed, kiss swollen lips and long eyelashes framing . Taking a deep breath Steve pressed a soft kiss to her neck before he cracked his eyes open and gave her that beautiful smile she lived for.

“For the record…” she hummed into his mouth as she captured his lips in a small kiss. “I’m well aware you totally just played me.”

#stark spangled kinks #smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark

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rose-demica · 3 years

Note

Once again I went overboard/ way too long, but hey. This also ended up being Pietro x Reader rather than Clint x Reader. The reader is roughly the Maximoff’s age. It was meant to be Clint x Reader, so there are a few hints towards that, but it turned out not working as well.

Head’s up; 3333ish words long, and Italic’s is speaking a different language, Sokovian.

“DON’T SHOOT!” You raised your hands as a man wielding a bow spun out from behind the tree, quickly glancing behind you to make sure the six kids you were escorting were doing the same.

“What are you doing out here?” The man slowly lowered his arm, but didn’t un-notch the arrow, eyes scanning over all of you.

“I’m trying to rescue these kids from Dr Strucker's experiments, we needed a destraction, and the Avengers appearing to take the compound seemed like the best we’d get.” You replied, eyes widening in fear as he lifted his bow and released an arrow.

“GET DOWN!” He flew forwards, grabbing you and pulling you down to the ground, before you both turned to grab the kids. You barely had time to get the last down before an explosion rocked the ground, heat flying past you. “We have a jet, I’ll escort you all there, we can get you all out of here safely.” He jumped back up, eyes scanning around.

“We have a place to go, people waiting for us.” You protested, starting to stand, a hand on your back kept you down, before it was gone, notching and firing a few more arrows.

“Guys I got civilians in the line of fire, and after that explosion, they’re converging on us, I could use a hand.” You reached down to your boots, pulling out two knives that you’d managed to steal on your way out.

“There’s a bunker that’s empty over to our right, I was planning on hiding in it until the battle passed.” You spoke softly to the archer, glancing back at the kids. “This guy is a hero, he’s going to help us escape.” The kids seemed slightly reassured by your soft words, looking up at the man, before nodding.

“They don’t speak English?” The man asked softly, looking back down at you for a moment.

“No, Sokovian and Ukrainian only, they were supposed to learn. If they survived the experiments.” You replied,

“I’ve got back up incoming, Nat speaks Ukrainian,” He was looking around again, eyes settling on the bunker you had mentioned. “Tell them to fall in, stay low, move quickly. You lead the way, I’ll bring up the rear.” You nodded, turning to tell the kids what was happening, flinching as the sounds of arrow firing emanated from above your head.

“Ready when you are.” You looked up, waiting until the man stopped firing to start moving. You stayed crouched, semi-crab walking towards the bunker. You could hear the children following suit behind you, but you didn’t look, forced to trust the archer would do as he said and protect them. You needed to keep your eyes forward, needed to look out for any threat coming from ahead of you.

You jumped up with a scream as a man in navy blue with a shield ran up to you, swinging your knife towards him. He made to grab your arm, so you dodged, instead sweeping out with your other hand to slice at his legs. He jumped back, but it didn’t stop you, you had to protect the kids, you’d promised you would get them out, protect them.

“Whoa, whoa, I’m with Clint.” The man made no move to attack you, using his shield to block your attacks, dodging those he couldn’t.

“Me! I’m Clint!” The archer grabbed your left arm from behind you, as you raised it, giving the other man the chance to grab your right, stopping you. “He’s a good guy, I promise. Here to help.” They waited, holding you as your breathing calmed and the fight left your body.

“Nat’s running a perimeter, so is Thor. Tony’s mildly annoyed that we’re diverting from the mission, but Hulks got the onslaught covered, we need to clear the field of civilians.” The man in blue spoke as he let go of your arm, grabbing his shield and throwing it away. The hold on your arm also loosened, going from preventing you from attacking to simply being a gentle reassuring touch.

“I can hear him Cap.” The man behind you laughed, before his fingers slowly slipped from your arm. “We should keep going, even with reinforcements I don’t like having these kids out in the open.” Your eyes followed the navy blue man as he took off in a run, grabbing his shield off of a body on the ground and jumping into a fight with a small squad of armed men.

“Should we?” Clint, they said his name was, laughed, shaking his head.

“Cap will be fine. Let’s keep going.” You nodded, glancing to check the kids were still near you.

“Everyone alright?” You got a myriad of nods and yeses in response, the kids moving up to fall in line behind you as you crouched down again, ready to keep going. You watched as Clint scanned the area, before going to stand behind the kids, his head nodding to you so you knew it was time to move.

You made the bunker with relative ease, the kids happily piling into the concrete structure, huddling against the wall for warmth.

“I’m going to go scout the route to the jet, and help clear out some of the attackers, will you be okay here with the kids?” You grasped the two knives in your hands tighter before nodding. Here was safe, defensible. “Can you use a gun?” He was already offering you a pistol from a thigh holster. “Safety’s off, so just point and shoot, it should have 12 bullets. If you need backup, scream.” He told you anyway, looking up and around before pressing the gun into your hand.

“How do I know who to trust?” You whispered, realising he was about to vanish.

“Iron Arse says to use a passcode, if we say-” Clint winced, recoiling to the left. “Not smash Hulk, everyone knows you do that. Baby Starlings.” He decided, nodding to you before rushing out of the bunker. You quickly ducked closer to the kids, keeping them to your back and the only way into the bunker in front of you.

“Maybe this wasn’t the smartest escape plan.” One of the kids whispered, reaching out to curl up around you, you felt the other kids join the pile. All scared and cold.

“It was the best distraction we were going to get. I’m sorry I led you onto the battlefield, I was trying to avoid it.” You replied, turning slightly to wrap one of your arms around them in turn. The other still tightly wrapped around the gun

“It’s not your fault.” Maria, the next eldest at 8 assured you, hugging the kids as well. “You’re saving us, being out here is better than in there, even if we don’t survive it, at least we were free.” All the kids murmured their agreement, they’d heard the screams, seen the other kids as they returned from whatever ‘experiments’ he was using them for.

“To freedom.” You jumped as another voice spoke Sokovian, a figure not visible in the doorway, but close enough to overhear your conversation. “My name is Natasha. I’m one of your escorts to the jet. Clint said to call you ‘Baby Starlings’.” You let out a shaky breath, lowering the gun.

“It is safe.” A red haired woman stepped around the door, a soft smile on her face.

“Alrighty, let’s get you moving. Clint’s just ahead of us, and Steve’s going to bring up the rear, Thor’s acting as rear guard, so both are waiting outside, please do not be afraid of us.” You stood first, helping all the kids up before leading the way out of the bunker, the gun held down by your side as you did. Natasha stepped back out of your way.

“Hello baby starlings!” A booming blonde haired armoured man greeted you, a hammer in his hands. “I am Thor, God of Thunder. This man is Steve, or Captain America. We are honoured to be your escorts today.” One of the boys pushed past your leg excitedly, going right up to the man named Thor, stopping barely a step away to gaze up at him.

“Nikoli-” You stepped closer, preparing to pull him back to the group.

“It is fine.” Thor knelt down in front of the boy, smiling. “You have heard of me?” Nikoli nodded shyly, still staring in wonder.

“Starlings, we should get a move on. Tony’s reported another wave incoming.” Steve interrupted, reminding you that you were still on a battlefield, still had six young children to protect.

“Of course. Please will you stay close to me, if I tell you to run or duck, I need you to do so quickly. Okay?” Natasha watched all the children, making sure that they nodded or vocalised their agreement and understanding. “The jet is only a short way away, we will be there shortly.” Nastasha started walking, and you motioned the kids to go ahead of you, taking Nikoli’s hand in yours and leading him away from the God of Thunder. Perhaps they could speak later, for now they needed to get to safety.

The first part of the trip was quick, the kids moved as quickly and quietly as they could. Steve, the man in blue, was walking behind you, turning often to make sure nobody was coming up behind them. Natasha was doing the same at the front, constantly keeping an eye out for any danger. It left you the middle, and you watched it, glancing back to the kids in between each sweep.

It was how you were the first to notice when one of your charges went missing. The youngest, Peter, was there one moment and gone the next.

“PIETRO!” You knew instantly how it had happened, calling for the man who moved faster than anyone could see. “PIETRO! GIVE PETER BACK!” Sure the speedster worked for Strucker, but surely he wouldn’t take the children back, surely he knew how bad it would be if you didn’t escape. All eyes were on you as you yelled, but at Peter’s name all eyes flicked to the group of children, noticing one was missing.

“We have enhanced on the field. Barton just saw one.” The man behind you spoke, eyes darting everywhere for the threat.

“You won’t see him coming, he’s too fast.” You turned around as you heard a strangled cry, praying it wasn’t Pietro or Peter.

“Barton's been hit, Nat-” Whoever Barton was, it sounded bad.

“I’ll get him, and meet back up. I have to go, follow Steve, Y/N will take the back.” Natasha broke into a run towards where the scrambled cry came from.

“I have to get Peter back-” A hand on your shoulder stopped you from turning.

“You will, I promise I will help you, but we need to get these five on the jet first. No man left behind.” Steve spoke softly, gesturing to the five children who remained, clutching on to each other so no one else could be grabbed.

“I can convince Pietro, I just need-” A tug on your hand stopped you, looking down to see Nikoli’s hand still clutched in yours.

“You promised.” He whispered, and you knew you had to get these five to safety first.

“Alright. Hold onto each other, try your best not to let go, if Pietro does grab someone you scream okay, scream and tell him off.” The children all nodded, reaching out to hold hands with each other, you kept Nikoli’s hand, nodding to Steve that you were all ready to go.

“We’ll hold hands, so it is harder to steal us.” You told him, and he nodded, moving up the line and offering his own hand to Maria, even though it would hinder his ability to fight. Maria took it, and you all continued forward, the kids much more aware, eyes darting around in hopes of spotting Pietro before he stole anyone else.

“PIETRO! NO! PLEASE!” You heard Nikoli’s scream first, feeling his hand being ripped from yours, and for a moment you thought it was Nikoli he had snatched, but as the world spun violently around you, you realised your mistake. Your knees buckled underneath you as you were placed back on your feet, but you were caught before you could crumple into the snow, gently placed back into a sitting position, a weight settling in your lap.

“I thought we had agreed, no more of this silly talk of escape.” The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Peter, the small boy curled into a ball in your lap, crying. You quickly started running a hand down his back in an offer of comfort.

“We had not. I told you I needed to get the children out, they couldn’t go through what we had to.” You disagreed immediately, looking up to see Pietro pacing, at human speed, in front of you, stressed.

“What Dr Strucker is doing-” Pietro tried to repeat the same defence he always used, but you didn’t let him.

“Is torture. Child torture, it’s not worth it.” Pietro shook his head, refusing to listen to you.

“So you were just going to leave me? Run off without so much as a goodbye?” There were tears in his blue eyes.

“There wasn’t time, the battle struck, it was my best opportunity to get them out. I knew you weren’t going to come with me. That you would stop me. I had to-” You couldn’t stress enough how much it was about the kids, not him and whatever you had. “At least take Peter back, you can keep me, but let him go. The archer promised to keep them safe; so did Steve.”

“They’re here to destroy Dr Strucker, you think the children will be safe with them?” You nodded, hugging Peter closer to you.

“I know they will be. Safer than if I left them here.” Pietro moved closer with a sigh, holding out his hands for Peter. You scrambled up, slowly placing Peter in his arms, making sure the small boy was secured to his side. “Thank you.” You pressed a kiss to Pietro’s cheek, before he took off, returning a moment later without the child.

“Come on.” He held out his arms, and you stepped into them, feeling his arms fold around you and pull you into a tight hug. “I will take you to them, I will let you go.” He whispered, tears falling from his eyes as he pressed his head to the side of yours.

“I do love you Pietro, If it was just me I would stay for you, but I can’t leave them, they're just kids.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, cuddling him closer to you, trying to assure him that you weren’t leaving because of him.

“As I love you. I will find you, once we are all free.” Pietro moved a hand up to cup your cheek, pulling your face away from his chest so he could stare into your eyes as he made his promise. His lips brushed against yours, and you could feel his tears on your cheeks.

“I’ll wait for you.” He pulled you in for a bruising goodbye kiss, clutching you tightly to him, not parting until you were both gasping for air. You raised a hand to his face, wiping away his tears. “I’m sure it won’t be long.” He smiled sadly at you before, bending down and sweeping you up in a bridal hold.

Pietro dropped you off outside of the jet, you felt the ghost of his lips pressed against yours, opening your eyes to see all six children in front of you. Natasha and Clint hobbling towards the jet, Clint clutching at his side.

“I see you convinced him to bring you back.” Steve was the first to acknowledge your return, trying to get the children onto the strange aircraft.

“I knew I could, come on.” You ushered the children onto the aircraft and into a corner, trying to stay out of the way as Steve helped Natasha bring Clint on board, both grasping for medical equipment.

“How bad?” Steve asked. You stepped forward at the question, trying to see around them at Clint, trying to see what was happening.

“Very, thankfully it was a glancing blow, but it’s still not good,” Natasha replied, using a knife to cut open Clint’s shirt.

“Let me help.” You stepped closer, seeing the sheer amount of blood they were trying to stop from leaving his body. Steve instantly stepped aside, knowing Natasha was the one applying the most pressure to his side.

“Tony need’s help, do you need me?” He asked, a finger raising to his ear, you ignored it, grabbing a cloth and wiping away the excess blood, you needed to see the exact wound. Natasha looked to you, before shaking her head in answer.

“We’ve got this, go help them.” She lifted her hand at your prompting, instead grabbing hold of Clint’s, giving him something to clutch onto as you peeled the fabric away from where he’d been hit by one of Strucker's new ‘plasma turrets’. A muffled cry of pain leaving his lips as he bit down on them.

“Y/N.” You dropped a hand down to your side, and one of the children pressed something into it. You lifted it back up to see a necklace, the same one you used to control your powers. You hadn’t thought to grab it as you left. You would figure something else out, you didn’t have time to hunt down a necklace, you all needed to get out of there as soon as you could.

“Thank you.” You didn’t even put it on, sliding it into your pocket, and returning your attention to Clint. You felt your magic humming to life as soon as you saw the open wound, wisps of light already starting to escape your fingertips, probing at the wound.

You let your eyes fall closed, and let the magic flow through you, ignoring the shocked gasp that came from the others as your whole body started to glow and float.

The second it was done you collapsed, falling to the aircraft's floor and gasping for air, trying not to let your magic overwhelm you. You felt a hand on yours, pressing your necklace back into your hand. Slowly you gained control, forcing it all into the necklace, until the faint burn left your body.

You blinked as you opened your eyes, instantly looking to Clint and smiling when you saw he was healed.

“Wow.” You didn’t look at anyone else, people didn’t tend to like it when you used your powers. They were strong, they burnt you from the inside out with energy, it was hard to control, and it often lashed out and onto others as you forced it to heal one injury.

“Amazing.” You looked up in shock at the sentiment Natasha and Clint echoed. They were staring at you, but both had a hand on Clint’s newly repaired skin, looking like it hadn’t even been injured in the first place, all the blood had even been cleaned away.

“Did I hurt anyone?” You whispered, looking away again just as quickly.

“No, only healed,” Clint replied, before looking to Natasha with a tilt of his head. “We can talk more about this later, we just need to round up the last of our teammates and we can get you somewhere safe.” You bowed your head, slowly getting up and moving back to join the kids. “Not a bad thing Y/N, just a conversation best had later,” Clint assured, slowly getting up.

You nodded, the kids crowding around you in a tight hug, the drain from using you power drawing you into a deep sleep.

#pietro x reader #escaping Dr Strucker #Marvel fanfic #Clint Barton

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writeroutoftime · 4 years

Text

lost in love and time - chapter three

@readermia, @mgk-rooklover1997, @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons, @dabooks23, @loser-alert, @themeanestlittlewitch, @peaches-roses-sins, @tiffanynguyen03 @t33n-tw4t @tinymalscoffee @diana-24-world, @ducky1901

CATCH UP - CHAPTER TWO

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: haunted mansion au - as the night wears on, things start to become even stranger, and where are Sam and Natasha?

warnings: none

words: 2162

a/n: hello everyone! sorry for my little absence from this series, but I am back and ready to write! please let me know if you think the jumps between scenes in this chapter are confusing because it’s something I want to continue doing for the rest of the series. anyway, please enjoy and have a fabulous day!

(this chapter does contain some dialogue from the movie, which I am not taking credit for)

There was only silence between the two as Pierce escorted Sam down the lonely halls of the mansion and towards the library. Despite the loneliness, the library was just as impressive as the dining hall, though slightly dusty and overflowed with hefty volumes of outdated volumes. By the time Sam processed all this, however, Pierce had disappeared before Sam could ask about Mr. Barnes’ whereabouts. Content to wait, Sam made himself comfortable in a cushioned chair behind the desk, which was scattered with books and old papers and ink stains here and there.

Next to the desk was an odd marble bust with a healthy coating of dust. Carefully, Sam inspected the bust and when he brushed the dust off top of the statue, its head fell backwards, though more like the hinge on a door. Worried that Sam had just destroyed some price heirloom, he rushed to push the head back into place, and found it did so with ease. Confused, he hesitantly pushed the head back again and saw that it hadn’t actually broken off. It was in that moment that Sam heard the whoosh of a door sliding and glanced over his shoulder.

Where there had once been a simple bookshelf, then transformed into a secret passage that opened to reveal a dark, damp, stone hallway that perhaps had been a servant’s entrance at one point. Against his better judgement, Sam walked towards the passageway and stepped inside to see if anyone or anything was there. As soon as Sam stepped through the passage, however, the door immediately closed behind him with a resounding thud, and Sam was thrown into pitch black darkness.

“Hey, let me out!” he shouted and turned to pound on the stone wall to no avail. Quickly, he fished his phone out his pocket, because while there was no way on earth his phone would pick up any service, the flashlight still worked just fine. The now illuminated hallway showed a seemingly endless hallway littered with cobwebs. “y/n, Nat. This is not funny.” Sam said, his voice hardening to conceal the fear he felt. “Mr. Barnes? I didn’t mean to go snooping through your things, you can let me out now.”

Again, met with silence, Sam decided that the only way he would find a way out would be to walk down the hallway and see where he ended up. While almost every nerve in his body screamed that this was a bad idea, Sam trudged on, praying that he would soon find an exit and that morning would come so the three of you could finally put this place behind you.

oOoOo

Thanking Steve for showing you to the room you would occupy for the night, he offered a small bow before he hurried back into the expansive corridors of the mansion. Alone in your room, you took the time to examine how the room had been furnished to be consistent with the rest of the design in the mansion. While the dated decorations and bedspread would have turned most people away, there was something appealing and, perhaps, familiar as you ghosted your hand over the mantle above the fireplace.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself unable to sleep, so you slid on your shoes and wandered into the hall, hoping that Sam and Natasha were close by. Because had Steve showed you to your rooms while Pierce had taken Natasha and Sam in the opposite direction, you weren’t sure how to get around. While the mansion was beautiful, it was massive and very easy to get lost in. Each time you turned down another hallway, you feared that you were simply making a circle and not actually headed anywhere.

You watched the bottoms of the doors, looking for light to illustrate if the room was occupied, but all of them were dark. The strange thing was, however, you swore you could here something moving behind some of the doors, but when you went to open them, you found them locked. At one point, you found yourself back in the front entrance you had first stepped in a few hours ago, and you sighed in defeat as you walked the semi-familiar path back towards the dining room.

Pushing the ornate doors open, you walked inside and saw that most of the dishes had been cleared and the large fire was dying down as the rain still pounded outside. However, those noises drowned out as the familiar, melodic tune found its way back to you once more, and it was only when you heard the clatter of plates behind you did you realize that you were not alone.

“Oh, Peggy.” you greeted with a smile as you waved at the woman you met at dinner. “Let me help you.” you said and began to help her pick up the fallen dishes.

“Really, it’s fine, Miss. y/l/n.” she said, though her eyes flittered nervously around the room. “What are you doing out of bed?

You shook your head with a slight chuckle. “Please don’t worry about all that ‘Miss” nonsense, just call me y/n. And, I couldn’t sleep, so I tried to find Sam and Nat, but ended up getting lost.” you admitted sheepishly.

Peggy tried to return your smile, but it come across forced as she stood up once more and attempted to collect her bearings.

“Are you alright?” you asked her and reached out to try and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Before you could, she stepped out of your reach and lowered her voice to a sharp whisper. “I’m alright, Miss- y/n.” she began. “But you and your friends must leave in the morning, right away.”

“Did we do something wrong?” you asked, a frown now on your face.

“No, but I fear that-“

“What is it you fear, Mrs. Rogers?” Pierce’s cold voice cut across the room and you watched Peggy stiffen with fear as Pierce crossed to stand next to her.

“Nothing, sir.” Peggy breathed shakily, glancing down at the floor.

Pierce shifted his gaze between the two of you for a few, tense moments before he nodded his head. “Then I suggest you return to the kitchen and tell that buffoon of a husband that I need to speak to him.”

Peggy nodded submissively, though you could see a fury burning under her skin, ready for the moment she could tell Pierce off, and you didn’t blame her. If Tony treated you a fraction of the way Pierce treated Peggy and Steve, you would quit without hesitation, but not before knocking him down a few pegs.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pierce, but have you seen Sam or Natasha? I need to talk to them.” you finally spoke up, directing the butler’s full attention to you.

“Is that what you need Miss. y/l/n? Because I need the staff and guests of this manor to remember their place, or does that seem too difficult for you, you impertinent girl?” he growled, and your eyes widened in shock and fear. Just as suddenly as the outburst had come about, though, Pierce quickly returned to his cool, uninterested demeanor. “My apologizes, Miss. It has been a rather stressful evening.”

“O-of course.” you told him and subtly took a step back, unable to ignore the sinister feeling you got when he was around. “I’ll just return to my room then.”

Pierce looked surprised but let the matter drop. “Splendid.” he told you and stalked off to brood in another corner of the mansion.

oOoOo

As Sam walked along the stone passage, his flashlight illuminated a series of doors that he could not open from that side. It wasn’t until he felt as though he had been walking forever, that, finally, a door opened, freeing Sam from the secret passage. Closing the door behind him, Sam noticed the only option was to walk up a set of rickety, old stairs that led to another door. With a deep breath, he ascended the stairs and opened the door at the top, wincing at the loud creek that followed.

The next room Sam stepped into seemed to be the attic of the manor, filled with dozens of trunks that were stacked one on top of another and old portraits and other antiques that were covered in cobwebs and dust. “What is going on here?” Sam wondered out loud. With each new discovery, this mansion became stranger and stranger.

Suddenly, Sam heard the creak of floorboards and froze in his spot. He wasn’t sure who else would be up here, but he figured they wouldn’t appreciate that he was up there. In his attempt to make it back to the door unnoticed, Sam felt himself bump into a solid mass and let out a shout of surprise, that seemingly echoed throughout the attic.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” Natasha asked through grit teeth once she realized she wasn’t in any immediate danger.

“I’m was trying to get back to the room. What are you doing here?” he hissed back.

Natasha’s annoyed expression switched to one of genuine concern. “You were gone for so long that I thought something happened to you. I tried to find the library, but somehow ended up here.”

“Great! Now we’re both lost and stuck in the creepy-“ Sam began to rant before his voice trailed off as his eyes glanced around the room before they landed on an old portrait, partially hidden behind some boxes.

Natasha followed Sam’s line of sight in confusion as he walked to the portrait and carefully dragged it out so that they could get a better look. Both he and Natasha let out a gasp of surprise as they studied the subject of the painting and realized that she looked incredibly familiar – she looked like you.

“Neither of you should be here.” a voice spoke from behind Natasha and Sam causing the two of them to let out another shout of surprise.

Turning to look at who was now in the attic, Nat watched as Steve and Peggy walked closer to both her and Sam. “Okay, what the hell is going on, and why does that portrait look exactly like y/n?”

oOoOo

Once you were completely sure Pierce had walked away and wouldn’t catch you off guard again, you headed in a new direction, determined to find your friends. Eventually you stumbled into the library and called out. “Sam? Nat? Are you guys here?”

What you hadn’t expected was for Bucky to be sitting in one of the chairs, standing with a pile of books in his hands when you entered the room. “Oh, Mr. Barnes, I’m sorry I didn’t know you were in here. I was just looking for my associates.” you said, trying to hold onto any sense of professionalism.

“I thought I already told you to call me Bucky.” he reminded you with a wink. “Though, I am sorry, I have not seen your friends. I was just trying to tidy up before Pierce has a chance to yell at me for keeping a messy study.”

A smile crossed your face at Bucky’s action, though it was hard to keep the resentment out of your voice when you spoke of the butler. “He does seem the type of person to keep everyon-everything in its place.”

“Yes, he does come across that way.” Bucky admitted, glancing down at the books he held. “But he has been there for me my whole life, almost like a father to me.”

There was a moment of silence as Bucky glanced up and stared at you in adoration until your curiosity couldn’t hold off any longer. “Bucky, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” he whispered and set the books to the side to step closer to you.

“This house is beautiful and as you’ve mentioned it’s been in your family for generations. It must be like a home to you. Why do you wish to sell it?”

It took a moment for Bucky to respond as he chose his word carefully. “These walls are filled with so many memories. Some of them very painful.” he told you and you could see the sorrow in his eyes. “Why don’t I show you?” he offered and held out his arm for you to take.

There was a moment of hesitation, but even though you had only known Bucky for a short time, you already felt safe around him. Accepting his invitation, you linked your arm with his, and when your arms touched, you let out a quiet gasp at the sudden and intense feeling of safety and familiarity. For the briefest second, there was a flash of Bucky and a woman you seemed to know – almost like a memory. Then, just as quickly as it had come to you, the flashback and the sensation died down.

“It’s alright. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Bucky reassured you with a smile that you returned before he began to lead you off.

oOoOo

tag list: @readermia, @mgk-rooklover1997, @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons, @dabooks23, @loser-alert, @themeanestlittlewitch, @peaches-roses-sins, @tiffanynguyen03 @t33n-tw4t @tinymalscoffee @diana-24-world, @ducky1901

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter solider imagine #bucky barnes x you #lost in love and time #haunted mansion au

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 3 years

Text

Headstrong

Part Seven

Summary: After an expected visit from Brock, Haven turns to Bucky for comfort. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Word Count: 2240 Warnings: Discussion of infidelity and drunk driving, language, almost smut. A/N: Taglist is open, you can be added to the one for this fic or Buckvember simply by sending an ask. I don’t know a whole lot about how boxing standings work, so just know that any errors are unintentional and everything is for the sake of the story. Happy Reading!

Series Masterlist

Haven was cleaning out her office desk when Bucky showed up early one day for an afternoon training session. He had come in through the back slider, announcing himself so he wouldn’t catch her off guard — or naked.

“I’m walking through the house,” he called, “I’m nearing the bedrooms.”

Haven laughed. “I’m in the office, goofy.”

Bucky smiled as he entered the office and took up the chair across from her. “Doing a little light cleaning?”

“Trying to. The clutter has been building up for a while. You’re here early.”

“Yeah, I met Steve and Tony for lunch, figured I’d just head over. That okay?”

“Fine by me,” Haven sighed, taking a stack of papers from one of the drawers. “Let me just get through this stack and then …”

Her sentence trailed off as she picked up a picture under a couple old bills she didn’t need anymore. She could have sworn she got rid of every piece of evidence that she and Brock had ever been happy together, but here she was, looking at a picture of them kissing the last New Year’s they were together — one of the last times they had been happy.

“Did you ever fight him?” Haven asked, tossing the picture across the desk.

Bucky picked it up and his features tensed. He crumpled the photo and threw it in the trash before taking the stack from her, checking for more pictures before letting her have the stack back.

“Yeah, I fought Rumlow once, in my amateur years. He fought dirty, I still won the fight. He didn’t like that.” Bucky chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few seconds before asking her a question in return. “He ever fight you?”

Haven shook her head. “Nah, not outside of training, nothing out of anger. Brock was pretty well content to break my heart beyond that. He’d sleep with another girl, come back apologizing, telling me he was so afraid I was going to leave because I was so much better than him, so he at least wanted to be at fault for something he could control. Things would be good for a little bit, and then the whole cycle would run again.”

She dropped most of the papers in the trash bin then got up from the desk. Bucky followed her out to the hallway and through the house to the kitchen where she downed a glass of water before continuing. Her gaze was directed to the backyard, the sunlight catching a glare against the water rising in her eyes.

“The night of the car accident, Brock and I weren’t just arguing about him cheating — I’d caught him. We were at a party for one of his friends, and, like I told you before, I wasn’t sober, either. I fell asleep … I remember Brock laying down with me in the guest room bed. I remember not being with it enough to — to do anything. I fell asleep and, when I woke up, the house was quiet, except for noises coming from the bathroom next door. I recognized Brock’s voice.”

Bucky cursed under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Haven.”

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “I was stupid enough to believe he would ever change, so it was my own fault. I’m mostly okay now, Wes made sure I got the mental therapy I needed afterwards. Still have a monthly appointment.” Turning to him, she swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I’m okay, until I’m not. Until I come across something like that picture and everything comes rushing back. You and I have crossed lines, Buck, and I’m not … I don’t want to step back from where we are. But, I also don’t want to come across a picture of us together in my desk one day and feel like I’m gonna fall apart.”

Bucky came around the island and hugged her from behind. “We don’t have any pictures together, so we should be good.”

Haven laughed and leaned back against him. “Thanks. I’m gonna go change for practice — which means I will be undressing, so don’t walk through any closed doors.”

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not even gonna stay in the house. See you in the gym.”

Haven watched him go back through the slider, winking at her as he went. Her tears were gone now, and a gentle smile graced her face. Letting Bucky in was scary as hell, but she figured she could summon up the courage to get past the fear.

His best bet, he figured, was to let things progress as they would. Haven was still working through some things, and while Bucky knew and accepted that he was entirely gone on her at this point, he had no problem taking things slow. She needed to heal. He was in no rush to push things past her comfort level. They would get there.

That didn’t stop Bucky from feeling both protective and possessive of Haven the day he walked into the gym and found Brock Rumlow there with her. Haven was standing several feet away from Brock, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes darting to the door and filling with relief the moment she spotted Bucky. Those feelings went from droplets he could control to a massive wave that crashed over his entire body; he was going to struggle to stay afloat in calmness if he wasn’t careful.

“Rum, this is Bucky Barnes. My new coach,” Haven introduced as Bucky dropped his bag on a bench and came to stand behind her — not so close as to give Brock any idea something more was going on, but plenty close enough for Brock to know that Bucky wasn’t going to stand down when it came to Haven’s safety. “Brock was stopping by to … to, um …”

Brock held his hand out to Bucky, but the gesture went ignored. “I wanted to see how Haven was doing. We go way back.”

Bucky nodded, once. “So I’ve heard.”

“Thought you fell out, Barnes. Word around was that you weren’t coming back to boxing if your life depended on it — which, I see now, maybe it did?”

Bucky tensed his vibranium arm and noted that Haven’s hands balled into fists at her sides at Brock’s reference to Bucky’s arm. He wanted to put a hand on her shoulder, a silent gesture to tell her it was okay, to take a deep breath, but he didn’t want to let on anything to Brock, either.

“If you’re done seeing how Haven’s doing, we have a training session we need to begin. I’m assuming you know the way out.” Bucky’s jaw was clenched so hard, he could feel the ache in his temple.

Brock shrugged and took a couple steps backwards, toward the door. “Yeah, of course, I get that. By the way, Haven, the organization will be reaching out to you guys — my new fighter is just chomping at the bit to show you what a mistake it was to take your pro bid.”

“A mistake to take it, or a mistake to take it without you?” Haven bit out when Brock turned his back. The man’s eyes were fire when he turned back around and took such a menacing step towards her, Bucky stepped in front of her, his chest puffed out and chin held high.

“You certainly got yourself a bodyguard out of this one, didn’t you?” Brock was asking Haven, but he stood toe to toe with Bucky. “Don’t you worry, Barnes, I wouldn’t ever lay a hand on her. I’ll let my fighter do the ass kicking.”

Brock winked at both of them before seeing himself out of the gym. As soon as the door closed behind him, Bucky was on his phone, sending a text message.

“What’s so important on your phone right now?” Haven asked.

“Texting my connections to see who Brock’s coaching,” Bucky answered, unfazed by her snappy inquiry.

Haven calmed, a little. “Charlotte?”

“Charlotte,” Bucky confirmed. “How long was he here before I got here?”

“Too fucking long,” she mumbled, reaching for her wraps to get going with training. “I just want to forget about it for now. Is that okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

He watched her carefully through the few hours they trained. After their cool down, they picked up the gym together, then lingered around while Bucky checked his phone.

“Carol Danvers,” Bucky announced. “Charlotte said the press was just sent the release, there’s going to be a conference soon to make the announcement.”

“Shit! She’s been pro for years already. How the hell did Brock get a job coaching her?” Haven groaned. “She’s probably so good, she coaches herself. Maybe that’s what she wanted and Brock was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.”

With another groan, she stomped out of the gym building and back up to the house. Bucky followed her through the slider, worried about the anger and whatever other emotions filling her chest with short, heaving breaths and what she would be pushed to do. At least there were no cliffs around for her to jump off of.

She pulled a beer out of the fridge, popped the top off, and drank down half the contents in a few gulps. She closed the fridge door and pointed at the fridge.

“Help yourself, Coach. I'm gonna shower then have more.”

He stopped himself from taking the bottle out of her hand. “Is Wes home? Maybe drinking this away isn’t such a good idea.”

“Nope, he's out of town. I'd say that’s the best time to be drinking this away, when my brother isn’t going to bitch at me, for once. Unless you're gonna do that.”

“No, I’m not gonna bitch at you. Just want you to be careful.”

Haven gave him a tight, forced smile before disappearing toward the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, Bucky heard the shower start. Making a somewhat hasty decision, he pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge and took a seat on the couch to wait for her. He was still sitting there, about done with his beer, when she came back through the front room, dressed in a pair of baggy sweats and a sports bra. Her hair was still wet and hanging down her back.

“Oh, sorry,” Haven mumbled, taking a step back when she realized he was still there, “I didn’t know you were still here. I would have put a shirt on.”

He waved her off. “Doesn't matter. Just didn’t want you drinking alone.”

“Thanks.”

They went through the six pack of beer, and then Haven produced a fifth of whiskey from Wes’s stash. She found two shot glasses and they kept up with different drinking games from there. Under two hours passed before he was tipsy, she was drunk, and Bucky had no doubt that the look in her eyes meant trouble.

Hoisting herself onto the kitchen counter, Haven pulled Bucky by his shirt so that he was pressed against the counter between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his middle and tipped her head up.

“Tell me, James, how much longer are you gonna wait before you kiss me tonight?”

He was so used to hearing his given name when he was in trouble or there was some kind of official interaction happening, but when it came from Haven’s lips, he wanted to do away with his nickname and only go by James for the rest of his life.

Bucky slid his arms around her shoulders as his mouth claimed hers. There was no hesitant start, no sweet kisses before she was pressing her tongue to his mouth and Bucky was parting his lips for her. She tasted like the whiskey they had been drinking, but Bucky was far more drunk on Haven than he was on the liquor.

Haven’s legs squeezed to hold him in place as she scooted to the edge of the counter to be even closer to him. Her hands were in his hair, grabbing at the back of his shirt, anything she could find purchase on. Bucky moaned into her mouth when her hips tilted just enough to cause friction against him.

“Take me upstairs,” she pleaded, nearly breathless between kisses.

Bucky didn’t hesitate then, either. He scooped her off of the counter and went straight for her room, setting her gently on the floor. She stepped back, plopping to the edge of the mattress, while Bucky threw his shirt to the side before kneeling in front of her. He took a good look at her — really looked at her — and told her how beautiful she was.

“Are you only saying that because you want to see me naked again?” Haven whispered.

“No,” Bucky chuckled. He took her face in his hands, kissing her soft and sweet, “and I know I brought you up here, but is this really something you want to happen this way?”

Haven’s eyes filled with tears. “I just need to feel somebody close, somebody real. Somebody who isn’t Brock. Please, Bucky. Please.”

As sobs wracked through her body and she finally let go of every piece of sadness and anger of the past, Bucky climbed onto the bed and pulled her back against his chest. He kissed her temple and promised to sit there all night, if that was what she needed.

“I’m right here, Haven. I’m right here.”

Buckvember: @peace-love-hobbitness @disastersoldierbucky @connie326 @rebekahdawkins @wonder-cole @shynara51

Headstrong: @disastersoldierbucky @ashleymalfoy @amanda-teaches @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @tanelle83 @tellmewhatyouwill @capandbuckylvr @pinknerdpanda @mizzzpink @ntlmundy @siggy85 @itsallyscorner @m-blasterrr @just-the-hiddles

#headstrong #bucky barnes #fanfiction #boxer!au #buckvember

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imperialstark · 3 years

Text

choke on me—chapter four

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter three

chapter five

a/n: this is a pretty chill chapter, and chapter five is going to be the exact opposite so have fun with this one while you can ;) also for my bilingual readers, if i have any, please excuse my shitty Italian in this chapter, i'm literally just working off of google translate

rating: pretty gen...this time

warning(s): n/a

—————

Carmen couldn't have picked a better day for a carnival; It's not too hot out for it to be August nonetheless. A slight breeze ruffles Tony's ungelled hair, sending his bangs into his eyes. He smooths the hair back with a huff. So much for keeping it casual today. His brief irritation dissipates when he looks, truly looks, at his surroundings.

The scent of cotton candy and funnel cake and something smoky, no doubt barbecue, carries on the wind. There are two long lines of booths, rides, and rest places alike stretching for a good yard. The other volunteers are zooming about, dressed in bright red tees like the Avengers, finishing up last-minute preparations.

"She doesn't half-ass anything, huh?" Clint says. He sounds impressed and…a little excited. Tony can't lie...he's excited too.

"I'll say," Steve says, and there's no hiding the awe in his voice. "I can't believe some of these rides even exist."

Out the corner of his eye, Tony sees Thor lean down to whisper something in Bruce's ear, blue eyes dancing. Whatever he said makes Bruce laugh, a real one, not the sharp little chuckle that's usually full of self-loathing or sarcasm or both.

They're off to a good start. Even Natasha looks pleased, or as pleased as she can be, with her arms crossed in front of her. She's taking in their surroundings too, but Tony knows that a part of her isn't doing it for fun. She's looking for enemies, escape routes, any possible threats to her and the others.

"You can take an agent out of the field," he thinks. He hopes that maybe she'll loosen up by the end of the day, preferably without anyone getting hurt.

"Where's Solomita?" she asks. "I want to know what we’re doing.”

"I know where she is," Tony says and leads the way, picking out Carmen's chirpy voice, throwing out orders and praise with a megaphone, Jesus Christ.

"Make sure you're at your booths in ten minutes! The kids are going to be arriving soon!"

She's crossing things off on her clipboard when Tony and the Avengers following behind him pull up in front of her.

She hasn't changed a bit since Tony's last seen her. She's still tan, still short, shorter than Tony. Her dark wavy hair is pulled back into what she used to call her "business braid" for when she had "shit that needs to be done."

Tony clears his throat, and Carmen looks up, her big brown eyes going wide before a grin breaks across her face and—

Carmen pounces on him, full-on throwing her arms around Tony's neck. Tony catches her no problem and—Carmen's mood is so infectious—gives her a little twirl before setting her down.

"Jesus Christ," Clint says under his breath. "She almost took him out."

"Did not," Carmen says, and Clint has the good sense to look bashful. "This is normal for us. Especially when someone hasn't reached out in two. Years," she says, slapping Tony on the arm twice for emphasis.

"Ouch," he says, rubbing his arm. "I've been busy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save the world a few times, and suddenly you have no time for your friends," she says, grinning, so Tony knows she's joking. She turns to the Avengers, who've all been standing there awkwardly like they're the new kids in school.

"All jokes aside, I'm thankful for you guys, all of you," she says. "Who knows where we'd be without the Avengers." She sticks out her hand for them to shake and for a split second, nobody moves. Maybe it was the genuine gratitude in Carmen's voice, or the others were still trying to process Carmen's everything, but the smile on her face starts to waver at their hesitation.

Steve is the first to act, taking Carmen's hand in his own. "Thank you, ma'am," he says. "I know I speak for everyone when I say that we're glad the team exists, and we'll help out any way we can."

"Thank you," Tony mouths to him, and Steve gives him a slight nod, letting go of Carmen's hand.

Thor steps up next and, in true princely fashion, bows, bringing Carmen's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her palm. "A pleasure to be here, my lady," Thor says.

Carmen's face is red when Thor straightens back up, releasing her hand. After that, it's like the others shift into gear. Clint apologizes for his comment. Bruce offers her a kind hello until it's just Natasha who steps up until she's right in front of Carmen. Even though they're the same height, Carmen stiffens up, looking at Natasha like she's about to get chastised.

Natasha simply...sticks out her hand. "It’s nice to meet you,” she begins.

Carmen takes Natasha’s hand slowly like she’s expecting some trick.

“I’m actually a fan,” Natasha says. “I saw your work this February while undercover. Very nice.”

"Thank you," Carmen says. If she blushes anymore, Tony’s going to start worrying about her health. "I was actually inspired by your suit. The leather and the bodycon silhouette paired well with Fall and Winter."

"Oh, really?" Natasha says, raising her brows. Natasha looks her up and down, and Carmen, much to her credit, holds her gaze. "I have ideas for your spring collection if you'd like to hear them."

And just like that, the Avengers have won Carmen over forever. And Tony didn't even have to make any threats. Maybe today won't be a disaster after all.

"Yes, please," Carmen says, her voice coming out high and reedy. "I mean since you're offering—"

“Carmen,” Tony interrupts before she starts melting under the full force of Natasha’s undivided attention, “what’s the game plan for today?”

"Game plan. Right. We're here to work." Carmen clears her throat, a flush still staining her cheeks, and flips through some of the pages on her clipboard. "Okay, Tony, you're easy. You're running the basketball booth."

Basketball. He can do basketball.

"Mr. Rogers," Carmen says. Natasha starts humming "Won't You Be My Neighbor" until Steve shoots her an exasperated look.

"Sorry," Natasha says, not sounding sorry at all.

"Please, call me Steve," Steve says. "She already has that song set as my ringtone."

"Steve," Carmen says. "I know you're an artist. Think you could do caricatures slash portraits?"

Steve nods. "Easy enough."

The rest of the assignments go quickly. Natasha gets the sharpshooting booth, Clint's over Ring Toss, and Thor and Bruce will oversee the sack race. Now that introductions and assignments are over, there's a thrum of excitement to the air. Or anxiety. Tony's not sure yet.

"Nervous?" Carmen says to him. She's tucked her pen behind her ear.

"Maybe," he says. "Maybe not. It could just be indigestion."

"Gross," she laughs, wrinkling her nose. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I meant what I said, you know. I'm glad you guys showed up. You know how much A Helping Hand means to me."

Of course, he does. Carmen's like him...in more ways than one. She had been orphaned at nineteen when her parents' plane had gone down over the Atlantic.

And at twenty-one, she had also found herself the sole heir to a family fortune and no family to share it with. She got the idea for A Helping Hand after Tony's own parents had died.

Tony repeats what she had told him all those years ago. "Us orphans gotta stick together."

"Damn right," she says. "Siamo famiglia."

"Siamo famiglia," Tony echoes.

"Congrats on your new additions, by the way," Carmen says.

Tony's brows furrow. "What new additions?" he asks.

Carmen tilts her head at him like she used to whenever she thought he had said something stupid. "You're telling me that those five supermodels you call teammates just came here for shits and giggles?"

"They needed a day off," Tony explains. "I offered. Nothing else to it."

"They came because you asked them, dumbass. They're your friends."

Tony's not going to argue with her, mostly since the others have stopped talking amongst themselves and are looking right at them.

"Anyway," he says pointedly, "can you point me in the direction of my booth?"

*********

For the next three hours, Tony shoves Carmen's words from his mind and throws himself into teaching anyone who steps up to the basketball booth about physics. It wasn't cheating per se; Tony simply calculated the angle the kids would have to throw the ball along with the perfect amount of force. The looks of shock followed by unabashed glee after they made a basket more than made up for any guilt he was feeling.

His break comes faster than he wants it to, but he has to take one eventually and decides the best way to do that is to take a walk. His fellow volunteer, a young man named Jake, says he'll be able to hold down the fort while Tony's gone. Maybe Tony will check on the others, see how they're faring.

“It’s a great day to fly,” he thinks. The sky is a soft pale blue that soothes his heart. Cirrus clouds, like pulled apart cotton candy, lazily make their way across the horizon. Maybe after the carnival is over, he’ll take the suit out for a ride and cruise through the skies.

He wanders without direction, letting his feet carry him wherever they fancy. Seldom does Tony get quiet moments to himself like this. There was always a fire to put out, a project to work on, kittens to rescue from trees, that sort of thing. Not that he ever doubted her, but maybe Pepper was right. Maybe he did work too hard.

The sound of children squealing pulls him from his thoughts and brings a smile to his face. Carmen had spared no expense, not that he expected any less, as he takes in the Tilt-a-Whirl lifting its arms higher and higher. The riders throw their arms up in the air, their laughter carrying on the wind. For today, they would get to fly too.

Tony continues on, the shouts and whoops and laughs fading into the background; he's made it to a quieter part of the carnival where they tucked off all of the arts and crafts booths.

There's the finger painting table where plenty of toddlers and adults alike are flinging paint onto sheets of canvas. One kid rises from the face painting table with Cap's shield emblazoned upon his cheek and a booth over...there's Steve, drawing caricatures for the kids. There's a curve to his lips. Steve's biting back a smile at the little boy trying (and failing) to sit still in his chair as he draws him. Tony's heart jumps at the sight. He's tempted to slide into the line for Steve's booth himself, but something holds him back. It could be the look of contentment on Steve's face or the kid's near infectious excitement—Tony feels like he's intruding on something private. Someone else's life. Someone else's dream.

His heart pangs in his chest as the little boy jumps as soon as his drawing is finished and throws himself into Steve's arms. Steve startles but recovers quickly, giving the kid a polite hug back.

For some reason, Tony thinks of the kid he met not even a year ago when everyone thought he was dead: Harley. Tony didn't hug Harley. He didn't have it in him to hug Harley. The kid deserved it, though, for dealing with Tony's shit. Tony liked kids well enough, but having one of his own? He would never admit it out loud, but it scared him. And Steve...Steve deserved more than a coward.

There's less energy in his steps as he turns around and walks right back to the basketball booth.

He knows he still has time left on his break, but for some reason, he can't bring himself to care.

He finishes his shift with little fanfare, the carnival-goers opting for the rides and fair food after loading up on prizes for the day.

His head's all foggy like he just got up from a nap. He's so out of it, he doesn't even realize that the others are walking up to his booth. Tony blinks slowly, trying to ignore the pressure building in his forehead, a sure sign of a headache.

"Hey," Steve says when they make it to his booth. "You about ready?"

Tony winces, prompting the others to look him up and down.

"You okay? What's bothering you?" Clint asks.

"Just got a headache," Tony says, stepping out from his booth, giving Jake a wave. Jake waves back, trying his best not to look starstruck at the sight of the other Avengers.

"Did you eat at all?" Natasha asks, and as soon as she says something, his stomach growls.

"Guess not," Bruce says.

"You must eat," Thor says gently. "A warrior such as yourself must maintain your strength."

He knows they're right, but being confronted by all of them at once has his hackles rising. Carmen's words are getting all tangled up with Pepper's, and he can't. Stop. Thinking.

"I will," he says, aware that they're watching him more closely now. He hopes that he doesn't look as unsound as he feels. "But why leave just yet? Don't you guys want to check out some of the booths or rides before we leave?"

Steve starts to object, but Natasha is one second faster. "I did want to beat Clint at Shoot 'em Up," she says with a smirk.

Steve looks ready to protest, but Clint cuts him off. "Oh, you're on," he says. "Loser has to do the other's paperwork for two weeks."

"Prepare to drown in files, Barton," Natasha says, catching Tony's eye.

Tony nods at her. A Thank you.

She flips her hair over her shoulder. You're welcome. He doesn't know when they learned to read each other so well.

Clint and Natasha make their way to the sharpshooting booth, Thor and Bruce walking along behind them.

"You sure you're okay?" Steve asks, scanning Tony from head to toe. Steve can see through him so easily, his skin might as well be made of glass.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tony says. "Come on. Let's catch up before they kill each other."

*********

Natasha and Clint tie in Shoot 'em Up. Since Tony is on a team that consists entirely of children, they extend their competition to every booth in the carnival. Steve warms up as the day goes on, even joining in on their little competition along with Thor. Tony and Bruce are just content to watch.

Thor ropes Steve into the strongman game, which attracts a crowd, but who would turn down the sight of two handsome, well-built men lifting heavy things and showing off their muscles? Tony certainly couldn't, and given the way Bruce eyes the bulge of Thor's biceps, neither could he.

Steve rings the bell easily and wins, of all things, a Captain Ameribear for his trouble.

"Aw," Tony says. "It has wings on its helmet too."

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that it came with a shield pillow?" Clint asks.

Steve blushes, but it's all in good fun. Thor, of course, breaks the game, the bell flying clean off the top of the tower. The game runner in awe (and a little bit of fear) gives Thor a prize regardless. Tony promises to compensate the man as soon as possible. Despite all of that, his headache has receded slightly. He needs to eat now, and that barbecue is starting to smell better and better.

Tony's so caught up in drooling over a rack of ribs or some trashed wings he barely notices the others walking off to the next booth, Steve lingering behind to wait on him.

"Sorry," Tony says. "Guess I'm out of it. You...you don't have to wait on me, you know."

Steve shrugs. "No one's forcing me. Spending time with you isn't a chore. This actually works out."

Tony smiles despite himself. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Steve says. "I just wanted you to have this." Steve hands the bear over to Tony, and Tony...Tony melts because Steve is so fucking cute and sweet, and how did the hell did he end up in Tony's life?

Tony takes the bear, and maybe it's the lack of food in his system, but the urge to cry at Steve's kindness strikes him. The bear is cute with Steve's signature red, white, and blue suit and the shield to go along with it. "Thank you," Tony says. "You sure you want me to hold onto this?"

Steve looks at him from underneath his lashes. "Tony," he begins, "it's a gift. I want you to have it."

"Okay," Tony whispers, feeling like the air is closing in on him. It's hard to breathe when Steve looks at him like that, like Tony means something to him.

"Besides," Steve says, leaning in close to him. "I'm gonna clean the booths out. I'm trying to beat the super spies. Can you keep him safe for me?"

Steve's breath, cool and minty, washes over his face. Tony has to blink a few times, processing what just happened before he can even think about speaking.

"Are you guys coming, or are you just going to gaze into each other's eyes?" Clint shouts from the next booth over.

Tony jumps and hurries to rejoin the others, Steve right behind him, staring into his back.

True to his word, Steve cleans out every booth they touch, until he's practically drowning in stuffed animals. They attract a crowd as they make their way to the food court. Tony's feet are aching, and his stomach is outright roaring for sustenance. He and Thor get the biggest plate of ribs they've got to offer. The meat's so tender it's falling off the bone and smoked to perfection. The sauce they used is homemade, all tang and smoky sweetness. He eats until his stomach is about ready to burst.

Thor's singing the cooks' praises and their delicious Midgardian cuisine and rises to go get seconds, Bruce trailing after him.

Clint runs off to the bathroom, and something catches Steve's eye. Tony follows his gaze to the herd of children trying (and failing) to watch them eat without freaking out. Steve rises from the table, taking his prizes with him, leaving just Tony and Natasha behind.

"Sometimes, I can't believe he's real," Natasha says, breaking the silence. There's no need to wonder who's the "he" she's talking about. Tony thinks it himself sometimes.

It's hard not to when kids start lining up single file for their turn to receive a stuffed animal from Steve.

"Me neither," Tony says. "Howard...he'd tell me all these stories of Steve and the 'good old days'...Steve single-handedly storming a HYDRA facility. Throwing himself on a grenade to give others the chance to live. I always thought he was embellishing a little. Making war stories more digestible for a kid, you know? But seeing him, knowing him? You can't help but wonder how someone can be so good."

"He's not like you," Natasha says. He doesn't even have it in himself to be offended. She's right. Steve isn't like Tony and will never be like Tony. A little rough around the edges. "He's not like me, either," she admits, catching Tony by surprise.

"He's the best of us," Tony says. He glances at her. Natasha sits forward, resting her head upon her palm. Her face is smooth, her cheeks still tinged pink from their rowdy tramping through the fairgrounds. She looks...raw. That's the only word to describe her. Raw and real and human. Not the robot switching personalities and names and appearances like most people change clothes.

"You make him that way," she says, shocking him again. His stomach drops, and whatever peace between them quickly disintegrates. What does she mean by that? What could she possibly know about him and Steve and all the complexities of their relationship?

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tony says, his voice coming out thin.

Something in Natasha’s face softens, and she tilts her head at Tony. “I’m not going to pretend I know all of the details, but…you’re good for him. And I think he’s good for you. You’re both...softer. You look happy.”

It’s like someone’s dumped cold water down Tony’s back; he’s so in shock he can barely register what Natasha is saying. He swallows. Natasha knows. Of course, she knows, and if it weren’t her job to gather intel and pick up on context clues, he’d be a lot more worried that the others knew. But she wasn’t blackmailing him or threatening him to stay away from Steve? She...approved of them? He remembers that debriefing after they had defeated Loki, what felt like a lifetime ago, and her casual dismissal of Tony and his relationship with Steve. He wants to bring it up, to confront her, but what’s there to confront?

He brings it up anyway. “Still think he wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole?”

Natasha tilts her head at him again, and he hates how sweaty his palms have gotten, and the hummingbird beating of his heart, like his relationship with Steve hinges on her opinion.

“No,” she says slowly as if to weigh her words. “He wants you too much. I don’t think he could give you up even if he wanted to.”

As if summoned, Steve comes bounding back to their table looking boyish and vibrant in the evening sun before Tony can process her words.

"What I miss?" he says with a breathless grin, holding onto one last stuffed animal.

"Nothing much," Tony says before Natasha can say anything incriminating. His eyes dart down to the last stuffed animal in Steve's arms. It's an Iron Man bear, of course, all done up in the telltale red and gold of Tony's suit. "What's the deal, no one wanted him?" he says, nodding to the bear.

Steve looks down at the Iron Bear, and what he says next might actually make Tony melt into a puddle. "Nah. Couldn't bear to give him up."

Tony ignores Natasha's pointed look and hopes that his face isn't as red as he thinks it is.

“Clint, you’re riding with me on the Ferris wheel,” Natasha declares when everyone makes it back to their table, and Steve has successfully made Tony as red as his suit.

“A Ferris wheel?” Thor asks, arching his brow.

“It’s a carnival classic,” Clint says. “It’s a giant wheel that lifts you into the air. Perfect way to end the day.”

“It’s older than Cap,” Natasha throws in helpfully, smirking at Steve when he shoots her an exasperated look.

“Your Midgardian traditions are so strange,” Thor says. “Interesting, but strange.”

“I’m not hearing a no,” Clint says.

“Hm.” Thor turns to look at Bruce, who looked surprisingly (and thankfully) content with himself. “Would you like to ride with me, Doctor Banner?”

Bruce reddens, and Tony doesn't feel so alone because it looks like Bruce has his own beefy blond problem he needs to deal with. "Sure, since you asked," Bruce responds, leaving just...Steve.

Steve shares a look with Natasha, and Tony gets the sneaking suspicion that they planned this. Who knew that the fall of SHIELD would lead to one of the most dangerous alliances Tony had ever seen?

"Tony," Steve begins, sounding like he's about to propose, he's so serious. "Want to ride with me?"

His heartbeat quickens, and he's not sure why. It's not like it's a public declaration of love to ride with someone on a Ferris wheel.

It'd look weird if he takes too long to answer, so Tony says, "Yeah. Sounds like a plan."

They toss their trash and pick up their respective prizes they won throughout the day, Natasha with her light-up sword, Clint with his stuffed dog. Thor's lion hat from the strongman game sits proudly atop his head. Tony wants to make a joke about Hercules, but he also doesn't want to deal with the guaranteed headache he'll get when Thor replies with some mind-bending statement like he and Hercules are gym bros or other. Tony and Steve walk side by side, far behind the rest of their little group, bears in one hand, their free hands brushing with each step.

Part of him knows that if he just reached over...if he took that extra step for Steve's hand...Steve would let him. It'd be so easy…

The line to the Ferris wheel isn't too long, and by the time Tony works up the courage to take Steve's hand, the volunteers are strapping them in.

One of the volunteers lowers the bar over their heads, making sure that they're secure, and that's it. Tony's trapped. He's stuck on this Ferris wheel for the next ten minutes, and Steve is so goddamn close he can feel how hot his skin is from being out in the sun and—

"I'm not gonna bite, you know," Steve mutters when they start to ascend. He won't meet Tony's eyes. "I...I know you're afraid of me."

Tony swallows, his stomach twisting into knots at the thought of Steve thinking he feared him.

"I'm not...Steve, I'm not afraid of you," Tony says. Steve's still looking down. He doesn't know where he gets the courage, but he cups Steve's face and makes him look at him. "You hear me? I'm not afraid of you."

Steve's eyes have always been a weakness of Tony's, and right now, when they're so big and blue and so fucking sad, it doesn't do him any favors. They're almost at the top of the wheel. A stray breeze rustles a lock of Steve's hair, and Tony feels like he's on a cliff's edge.

"Then why—" Steve begins, only to be cut off by Tony's lips. Tony closes his eyes and answers Steve the only way he knows how.

It's cliche, but Tony swears he can see fireworks going off behind his eyelids. Steve's lips are warm and soft and pliant against his. Tony deepens the kiss and slides one of his hands into Steve's hair, the other remaining on his face. He can taste the remnants of cotton candy on Steve's mouth.

They break apart because, unfortunately, air is necessary to live. Tony has half a mind to invent a way for humans to survive without air if it meant he could spend the rest of his life kissing Steve.

This high up, with the sun setting behind them, Tony wishes he had at least brought a jacket.

Steve lifts his arm, "Here," he says. "Lean into me." Tony does just that and tucks his body into Steve's side, his arm is a reassuring weight around him.

The others are too far back to see Tony and Steve. It's easy up here, easy to forget that Steve's Captain America and Tony's a barely functioning former alcoholic with a slew of mental issues.

He looks at Steve out the corner of his eye, takes in his features shamelessly and selfishly, the allure of being above everyone reeling him in. He loves Steve's face, the cut of his jaw, and his long, pretty lashes and those eyes. It's painful looking at him. Sometimes it feels like his heart's gonna swell up and pop right out of his chest when he looks at Steve.

In that moment, he's glad they went to the carnival if only to forget the world for a little while.

#stony #stevetony #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #mcu #stony fanfic #stony fic #stony fanfiction #superhusbands #my fic #my writing #imperialstark fic #choke on me

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riotwritesthings · 4 years

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35. I hate trying to put my desire into words when my body knows exactly what to say. Come home. (You can’t start a fire without a spark.) with Winteriron, please and thank you❤❤ Happy Birthday!

EEEEE okay I hope you like this I’m sorry it took so long! (Also thank you!! 😘 😘)

WinterIron, T, 2.5k, humor, pining, denial | AO3

I hate trying to put my desire into words when my body knows exactly what to say. Come home. (You can’t start a fire without a spark.)

“Okay, now reattach the first two wires, and you should be good,” Tony says, relaxing back into the couch and adjusting his blankets. “Emphasis on ‘should be’, because I can’t actually see what you’re doing at all, so I have to just assume you’ve followed my instructions perfectly.”

“Eh, close enough,” Bucky says, and then laughs when Tony makes a concerned squawking noise. The connection is grainy, but it’s clear enough for Tony to picture the way his eyes shine with it. “It’ll last ‘til I get back an’ you can actually fix me up.”

“I do not find that reassuring,” Tony says and focuses harder on the boring emails pulled up on holoscreens in front of him. He does not focus on the warmth spreading in his chest, nope, not even a little. “Just know that if you come back carrying your arm again, I am going to beat you with it.”

“I’ll tell Steve you’re picking on me,” Bucky says with a dismissive huff, but Tony would swear he can hear the smile in Bucky’s voice, the way it curves up just the corners of his lips. “He’ll give you his ‘can’t we all just get along’ face.”

“God no,” Tony says with a snort, throat tight with something that’s probably horror. Probably. “Anything but that face, I’ll beat Steve with your detached arm too, if I have to.”

“I want out of this family,” Bucky whines, and it’s not hard to imagine the way his face probably scrunches up as he says it.

Tony startles himself with the force of his laugh. “Oh, it is too late for that frosty. I’m pretty sure we’re all locked in for life at this point.”

Bucky makes a teasing, thoughtful noise, broken by a hiss of static, because he’s underground, on the other side of the world, so incredibly far away. Not that Tony has been thinking about that constantly or anything.

“Well, at least-“ Tony doesn’t get to find out at least what, because Bucky cuts off and Tony’s heart lurches for a second when he thinks the connection has dropped. But no, there’s Steve’s voice in the background of the call, and then Bucky says “Yeah, Tony got me all fixed up.”

“I make no promises as to the accuracy of that statement,” Tony points out, raising his voice in that hopes that Steve will hear him, “For all I know he somehow turned his arm into a bomb.”

“That would be cool,” Bucky says cheerfully, and Tony laughs. He can hear Steve’s voice again, too muffled to make out the words, and then Bucky says “Gotta get back to it. Anythin’ else before I go doll?”

“Yeah,” Tony says and then freezes. There’s something caught in his chest but he can’t find the words, can’t force them out, can’t breathe around the sudden lump in his throat. “Don’t die,” he finally spits out and it’s not quite right, but fuck it, it’s close enough.

Bucky just laughs again and says “Doin’ my best, dollface.”

The line goes dead and Tony is all alone with only this stupid cast on his leg for company. Because despite his insistence that he could totally alter one of the suits enough to fit the cast inside, it would only take a couple hours max, the rest of the team had insisted he stay behind. Literally all of them had insisted, the bunch of betrayers.

So Tony is stuck here, in the big empty tower, laid up alone on the oversized couch in the communal living room while his family is off fighting on the other side of the world and okay fine, he’s pouting about it.

There’s also this weird feeling in Tony’s chest, and it’s like a set up to a joke, right? Because when doesn’t Tony have a weird feeling in his chest, except this one is new. Just the slightest catch sometimes when he breathes, like there’s something bright and warm and sharp bouncing around in his poor damaged rib cage. Something new, strange and terrifyingly familiar.

“Thousand dollars says he fucks up his arm,” Tony tells the empty room. The empty room says nothing back, but Tony is pretty sure that’s the pointed silence of JARVIS judging him.

“So, it’s making this weird grinding noise,” Bucky says, instead of anything like a normal human greeting, and Tony seriously considers just hanging up the phone.

He doesn’t, because maybe he’s not actually considering it. “It’s probably because you used your fingers to tighten a very important bolt, instead of an actual wrench,” he says instead and carefully shifts his foot a little where it’s propped up on a step.

“Again,” Bucky says with great patience and an amazing amount of amusement for someone whose arm is supposedly making a weird grinding sound, “Not everyone carries tool sets with them everywhere they go.”

“I still don’t understand those words,” Tony says flatly, and then grins proudly at the ceiling when Bucky snorts with laughter. “That’s why you should have brought me with you!”

“Or I could’a just stolen your tool kit,” Bucky says and laughs again when Tony gasps in loud offense. “Why’re you echoin’?” Bucky asks abruptly, “you in the stairway?”

“No,” Tony says slowly, even though he definitely is, and there’s nowhere else in the tower that echoes quite like the stairways.

“Tony,” Bucky says back, just as slowly, “tell me you weren’t tryin’ to go down the stairs on your crutches.”

“Why would I do that?” Tony scoffs and winces when he shifts wrong. “There are literally elevators everywhere, why would I ever need to take the stairs?”

“So you’re not laying on the landing between the communal floor and the gym?” Bucky asks pointedly, the bastard.

“I am not,” Tony lies smoothly and looks around for hidden cameras. Other than his cameras, obviously.

“We shouldn’t have left you alone,” Bucky says with a heavy sigh. Tony is pretty sure he can hear Natasha demanding to know what’s he’s done now, and sure enough the next thing Bucky says is “Nat wants to know why you fell down the stairs.”

“I did not fall down the stairs,” Tony defends with another huff and lifts his foot to try propping it on the handrail instead, because it’s still kind of throbbing. “I am simply taking a break on the landing, after... maybe rolling down the last couple of steps, just a little bit.”

Bucky makes a sound that’s caught somewhere between a laugh and a sigh and says “Next time we’re gettin’ you a babysitter.”

“I am an adult!” Tony insists and oh, he can just imagine the look on Bucky’s face, equal parts amused and horrified. “I am an adult man, and I am hanging up on you now.”

“Don’t hang up!” Bucky protests with a sputtering laugh, “My arm is still making weird noises! Don’t be so heartless, doll.”

“Wait, does it hurt?” Tony asks, because if so he is going to feel terrible for just laying on the ground giving Bucky shit. Even if he’s not sure how he’d be able to help right now, and he’s not actually sure how he’s going to get off the ground. Worst case scenario JARVIS will send Happy to come shamefully scoop him up.

“Nah, but it’s annoyin’ the shit outta everyone else,” Bucky says with an audible smirk, and then adds “Sam keeps offerin’ to rip it off for me.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, that’s what you all get for leaving the mechanic behind. Find a wrench and suck it up. Or just let Sam do what he’s gotta do,” Tony says with a shrug, and grins when he hears Bucky completely fail to fight down a laugh.

“Well that’s jus’ hurtful, darlin. I’ll find a wrench, don’t let the mean ol’ bird boy rip my limbs off,” Bucky says, a smothered grin still obvious in his voice.

Tony feels suddenly, terribly alone in the echoing stairwell with only his throbbing leg trapped in a cast and this weird, warm feeling bouncing around in his chest again. “When are you going be done with his stupid mission you love more than me, anyways?” Tony blurts before he can stop himself, before he can swallow it back down and deny, deny, deny. Still, it could have been way worse.

Bucky just laughs again, which is probably for the best. “We should be back tomorrow, day after at the latest,” he says, “try not to break yourself any worse until then.”

“I resent that,” Tony says with a sniff, and forces down all the other unknown words trying to build in his chest, trying to claw their way out. Maybe he has a fever, because his entire body feels warm, like the thing in his chest is spreading.

“I know ya do,” Bucky says, all amused and fond, then adds “lemme know when you make it out of the stairwell.”

“I told you, I’m not stuck,” Tony insists, but the line has already gone dead. It’s probably for the best, who knows what other words will come spilling their way out of him at this point.

Tony is half asleep in bed when a thought occurs to him, and he rolls towards the nightstand with one hand flailing for his phone. ‘No longer living on the stairs’ he texts to Bucky, ‘Please cancel rescue party.’

He’s not actually expecting a response to his stupid texts, what with the super important mission that he wasn’t invited on, but he hasn’t even set his phone back down before it’s vibrating in his hand. ‘So impressive. It would be more impressive if JARVIS hadn’t told me Happy had to come save you.’

‘Stop texting with my AI, you weirdo’ Tony sends, and then falls asleep with his phone in his hand.

He dreams that he’s alone in his big empty tower, like he used to be all the time and maybe it’s not so much a dream as a memory. But it won’t last forever, there’s something almost like static electricity in the air, like a building tension. Tony can feel it thrumming in his chest as he walks the empty halls of his dreams, spreading red hot through all his limbs, spilling liquid gold from between his lips.

Tony wakes up slowly, an empty ache in his chest that he knows, that he’s terrified to put a name to. His phone is still in his hand, battery almost dead, and apparently he’d managed to send a couple more texts as he fell asleep.

‘Pretty sure you’re conspiring against me. I’m onto you.’

‘JARVIS I expect this from, but you?!”

‘Just hurry up and come home.’

Tony hasn’t sleep-texted in years, since college when he spent most of his time sleep deprived, hopped up on espresso, and was known to text Rhodey long, complicated equations while in a state of half-unconsciousness. But apparently Tony’s stupid thumbs have betrayed him, begging Bucky to come home like Tony misses him, like Tony needs him around and oh god Tony doesn’t know that he’s ever meant anything so much in his life.

He hates being left behind, hates that all his friends are out there without him even though he knows they’ll be fine. He hates feeling useless and more than anything Tony hates that he can feel the absence of Bucky in the tower like an open wound in his life, that his carefully built denial is falling apart around him.

Tony is still laying in bed, trying to decide if the buzzing in his ears is panic or excitement, when his phone vibrates with a reply from Bucky. ‘On our way back. See you soon doll.’

That thing in Tony’s chest is growing out of control, taking up his entire body, sharp, bright, about to catch flame.

Tony would like to say that he’s not waiting out on the roof when the quinjet lands like a desperate, lovesick fool, but he absolutely is.

He’s leaning heavily on his crutches, squinting up into the rush of wind, feeling like he’s in that exact moment before the flare of a spark becomes a blinding explosion. The split second between falling and flying. Like he’s at a breaking point.

The jet has barely touched down, engines still going, and already Tony can hear the lectures he’s going to get from Bucky. He shouldn’t be out here on his crutches, in his pajamas no less, a million other things that Tony should find super obnoxious but definitely doesn’t.

He’s looking forward to it, because he’s missed Bucky’s ridiculous hovering, and his dry, dark sense of humor, and just... all of it, fuck Tony has missed him.

Bucky is the first one out, trying to look disapproving as his eyes fix on Tony but there’s clearly a wide smile trying to break free across his face. He opens his mouth, starts to say something that might be a greeting or an admonishment or even the beginning of a lecture, but Tony doesn’t hear it.

Tony can’t actually hear anything past the rush of blood in his ears, the way it feels like he’s touched a live wire, like his entire body is burning. Tony isn’t sure what his face is doing, but Bucky’s eyes go wide and Tony has barely made it a single hobbling step before Bucky is right there, right in front of him, warm and real and looking about as flushed as Tony feels.

Bucky freezes there, inches away, like he’s hesitating, but Tony is so far past that. He throws himself forward, abandoning his crutches in favor of wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, trusting Bucky to catch him. Sure enough Bucky’s right arm is instantly around his waist, pulling him in closer, and Tony isn’t sure which of them is shaking slightly. Possibly both.

Tony is only vaguely aware of people moving around them, someone nearly tripping over his abandoned crutches, soft chuckles and he’s pretty sure someone even whistles. Tony does not care at all, just presses his face into the curve of Bucky’s throat and breathes him in, blocks out everything that’s not the

“Hi,” Bucky finally says against the top of Tony’s head, voice quiet and warm as his fingers tap against Tony’s side. “‘M home.”

“About fucking time,” Tony grumbles, face still smashed into Bucky’s neck, and then after a moment demands “Where’s your other arm?”

“I left it on the jet, didn’t want you to hit me with it,” Bucky says easily, like that’s actually his biggest concern, and Tony laughs again.

“Smart,” Tony says and then takes a shuddering breath. His chest is warm and full, nearly bursting with all those bright happy feelings, and when Bucky’s arm tightens around him Tony is surprised it doesn’t all come spilling out of him, catching everything around them on fire.

#my fic #buckytony #starkbucks #winteriron

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blancheludis · 4 years

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@whumptober2020 Day 3 “Held at Gunpoint”

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Howard Stark Tags: Tony has Issues, Young Tony, Bodyguard Steve, Misunderstandings Words: 3.689

Summary: The cold barrel of the gun feels almost nice against Tony’s pounding forehead, and he is not sure anymore whether it is meant as an encouragement to come closer or a warning to stay away. It doesn't matter. He only ever does what he wants anyway.

---

The pounding in Tony’s head does not stop even long after he has left the club. Not the rhythm of too loud music makes him move his feet but the instinctive knowledge that he will collapse somewhere soon and he desperately wants that place to be his bed. Bad things happen when he lets his guard down – and he could do without the lecture from Howard.

Tony knows the way to the mansion without having to concentrate on where he is going. He has made this trip hundreds of times in various states of inebriation. It does not feel like home but the demons inside are easier avoided than the ones out here.

The gate is closed and the wall of windows is dark, especially the one to Howard’s office. That is no guarantee that the old man is asleep and will not bother Tony, but he sighs in relief nonetheless. The only thing worse than a migraine is Howard’s booming voice increasing the pounding.

Without needing to look, Tony enters the code at the front gate, keeping himself upright by leaning against the cold iron. When the gate suddenly opens, it almost throws him down into the dirt. Tony is not sure he would get up again, so he fights to stay on his feet.

Once inside, he turns towards the garage. The way to his room is shorter from there and he wants to avoid waking his father at all costs. For some reason, only one Stark is allowed to get blackout drunk in this house and that is never Tony.

Once inside, he does not get far, shocked into a half-sober state by finding a strange man standing there, about halfway between the entrance and the door to the mansion. He is tall and blond and looks like he could break Tony with only one hand. The somewhat official looking, dark outfit makes it unlikely that he is a burglar – and it is well known that breaking into the Stark Mansion usually does not end well for intruders.

A new guard then, Tony guesses. For several years now, Howard has hired bodyguards for Tony, whose task was less to protect him and more to make sure he does not bring more shame down on their name. Needless to say, none of them lasted long.

The man notices Tony as soon as he steps into the garage, probably even before Tony notices his path is blocked. He straightens, which shows off his very nice shoulder line, and one hand goes to the gun on his hip. His posture is not yet threatening but a warning in itself.

“Wrong turn, buddy,” the guard says firmly but without aggressiveness. His voice is a pleasant surprise, not quite soothing Tony’s headache but not aggravating it either. “This is private property.”

A grin steals itself on Tony’s lips. He cannot believe that the new muscle does not recognize him. True, Howard’s features have slackened with the years and too much alcohol, but Tony still looks too much like him. even in ripped clothes. Beyond that, everybody knows Tony. He cannot take a single step outside without someone bothering him. And yet, a guy Howard probably hired to keep him on the right path does not even recognize his new charge. This could be fun.

“My, look at you,” Tony drawls and straightens his spine so he does not look like he will keel over any moment. “Are those muscles real?”

The closer he gets, the more mouth-watering does Hot and Blond look, even when his face darkens and his eyes narrow in indignation. Does Howard hire these people specifically for how easily Tony can bypass their defences?

A name is stitched onto the dark fabric of the uniform. S. Rogers. Not that Tony intends to use his real name much. He likes his nicknames.

“Mr. Stark is not entertaining guests tonight,” Rogers says instead of answering, standing much more stiffly now. Almost as if he is trying to take the emphasis off his muscles but managing the opposite entirely.

Tony is now close enough to realize that Hot and Blond does not only look tall but has at least a head over Tony. Leaning against a car, Tony looks him up and down with an openly suggestive grin.

“I’m sure he would like to be entertained by you.”

Perhaps Tony should not make an enemy out of the new guy. No matter that his career here will be a short one, considering nobody has the mental strength to deal with Howard and Tony for any length of time. He could still hurt Tony. The ones who believe they will have him easily in hand are usually the first to run to his father to rain down hell on him. Tony just cannot help himself, though. He is tired of Howard trying to control him, of people thinking they own him.

“Sir,” Rogers says with obvious strain in his voice. “I must ask you to leave.”

It might be an unconscious thing, but he widens his stance, eyes narrowing at Tony as if he is already picking out weak points. Tony is the weak point, the whole disappointing entirety of him.

“Oh, don’t be a bore and let me pass. I feel like puking.”

This would be easy to clear up. He could just tell Rogers his name or they could call for Jarvis. That would be too easy, though, and Tony does not like easy. He wants to know what the people around him are made of, how carefully has to handle them. Howard likes to hire those who are already a little trigger-happy before they ever meet Tony. And Tony, well, sometimes he feels as if he is made of gunpowder, ready to blow up at the first wrong move.

So, Tony does not give his name but just turns towards the door like he has already forgotten all about Rogers. It is a good thing he never let Rogers out of his sight because he has not even made two steps when there is rustling and Tony hears the familiar click of the safety of a gun.

It looks strangely hot, the way Rogers aims the gun at him. The muscles of his arm are much easier to look at. Tony could do without the pained determination on his face, however. If he will be shot in his own home, he wants it to be done with glee, not a tired sense of duty.

Tony stops and turns back fully to Rogers, openly amused at being pointed at with a weapon. The guy is trigger-happy then. Nothing in this situation calls for the use of a gun. Tony is obviously drunk and this guy could break him in half without even trying. It would be easy to simply pick Tony up and deposit him outside of the gate. But, no, Tony does not do as the nice man says and gets a barrel pointed at his face for the trouble.

Heart-rate picking up, Tony thinks that now they are getting somewhere. With just a spark of regret, he realizes he is not drunk enough to deal with this in a sensible way. Here he is, ready to be shot only to see if he can push a stranger into firing.

Perhaps people are right when they say Tony is sick. He should not be drawn to trouble like it is a magnet and he a simple compass needle, and yet that is where he goes all the time. Nobody has ever done it, either, actually pulled the trigger. Well, there was that one kidnapping where Tony got hit by a stray bullet. But, generally, people seem to think he is worth more alive and yet they never do anything to make him feel the same.

A smile spreads on Tony’s lips, growing with every thundering heartbeat. Maybe this is what it means to feel alive. His heart is stumbling, his hands are ready to grab something to fight or defend himself with, excitement stirs in the pit of his stomach – or perhaps that is fear. He does not know. Only that there is undeniably some life inside his body, for once more than just in his mind.

“Do you even know how to use that?” Tony asks and quietly calculates how quickly he would have to move to dodge a bullet fired at him at this distance. He would not make it, of course, but he has always liked numbers.

“I suggest you turn around and don’t try me.” Rogers’ hands remain steady, but, to Tony’s slight disappointment, he does not look like he wants to go through with his threat anymore.

People like this hate others being cocky, so Tony simply shrugs and says with a grin, “I like challenges.”

Then he walks forward, noticing the surprise on Rogers’ face when he manages to walk in a straight line. It also has him tightening his grip on the gun as if he only just realizes that Tony is not as drunk as he seems. Well, he is that drunk, but he knows how to pretend. That is one of the few useful lessons he learned from Howard.

“Come on,” Tony says and keeps walking until the barrel is only inches away from his face. He wonders if it would be cool against his forehead. “Shoot.”

Certainly, there are worse ways to die than getting shot in his own basement, drunk enough that he does not care for all the big and small hurts and disappointments piling up in his chest. It would be unfair to Jarvis, though, who would likely be the one to find him, the only one searching for Tony when he does not come home. That is, if Rogers would not proudly tell Howard that he has successfully eliminated a threat to their great estate. Tony wonders what Howard would do. Fire the guy, surely, but maybe give him a quiet bonus too, for dealing with his perpetual problem.

Nothing happens, so Tony takes the time to look. The guy is hot, more so from up close, even with his pinched expression. Tony wonders what he can do with these hands. That one thought sparks a flood of others, building the ultimate plan for revenge.

Slowly, suggestively, Tony sinks down to his knees. The hands with the gun automatically follow his movement, although it appears like the stranger is not quite aware of it. Like that, he looks far more menacing. His muscles are bigger, the barrel blacker. Tony likes the thrill running through him. It is something to feel other than numbness and disgust.

When he leans forward, his hands on his own knees, Rogers instinctively moves back, although he catches himself quickly.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, all amusement gone from his tone. He still does not make a move to shoot.

“What does it look like, honey?” Tony purrs, enjoying the brief panic flickering over Rogers’ face. Not his area of expertise, then.

Rogers freezes when Tony dips his head forward and muzzles at the crotch right in front of him. For a moment, the air is ripe with possibility. Then the man comes to life with a jerk and, suddenly, the barrel of the gun is pressed against the top of Tony’s head, pushing him away. It is cold, and almost as satisfying as Tony hoped.

“Mr. Stark has tasked me to keep everybody out of his home so I must ask you to leave,” he says, his voice rather pressed. Still, his hands do not waver.

The mere mention of his father has Tony rolling his eyes. It almost takes the fun out of this, but then Tony thinks of how they must look to someone else. He on his knees with a gun to his head, Rogers glaring down at him. If Howard found them, he might put that bullet in Tony’s brain himself.

“Of course, he did,” Tony says and does not hide his derision. “Mr. Stark is a raging homophobe. He’d likely fire you because you haven’t shot me already.” He pushes slightly forward against the barrel to emphasize his point. Then he adds, almost as an afterthought, “Depending on his mood, he’d give you a raise if you got rid of me quietly.”

Indignation passes over Rogers’ face, which disappoints Tony dearly. How does nobody see through Howard’s lies, his pretty façade?

“Mr. Stark is not in the business of hiding bodies,” Rogers replies stiffly.

Sharp laughter claws its way up Tony’s throat and it rings out hollowly in the garage. Their entire company is built on producing dead bodies. Granted, they do not have to hide them because people tend to applaud them for it, but the point stands.

“You must not have worked for him long then,” Tony says and looks up at Rogers through his lashes the way he knows people like.

Tony has not been home for a few days, but he certainly would have noticed eye candy like this wandering around. Which means he might be in the process of ruining this guy’s first day of work. Well, he will probably thank Tony for that, later. The great Howard Stark is only so nice to look at from a distance.

“Get up,” Rogers then orders, his patience running thin.

Tony grins and moves further in, presses his lips against the dark cloth in front of him. “Oh, don’t worry, he’s almost there.”

Tony knows he has gone too far a split second before Rogers moves. It is like a light switching off behind those blue eyes, making them frost over. One moment, Tony kneels in front of Rogers, ready to end his night with a bang, the next he is face down on the hard concrete, a knee in his back and the gun still too close to his face.

“I said, stop.”

For just a moment, Tony regrets his decision. Being pressed down on the floor, everything becomes too real. But then, that is what he wants, yes? Something real. Not Howards endless expectations for him to be someone else. Not the public’s ever-changing and ever-terrible portrayal of him. Not this carved out path that Tony is supposed to follow. Here he is, utterly human and just one wrong move away from getting some blissful quiet in his head.

He does not want to die, but he does not particularly want to live this life either. Over the years, he has done some stupid things, has even aimed a gun at himself. Nothing compares to the real thing, though. The flutter of his heart, the way time trickles so slowly. Tony thinks he can understand why people throw themselves out of planes or climb mountains without safety gear. He is alive only in this moment when that could quickly change.

“I heard you the first time,” Tony admits without showing any regret. This is his home and Howard taught him how to get what he wants – and he definitely does not want guards following his every step and judging him when he comes home too late or too drunk. It might be unfair that this guy got caught up in this ongoing war between Howard and Tony, but there is no helping it.

“Then I suggest you start listening,” Rogers growls, all out of kindness. “I’ll accompany you outside and you’ll leave without making a fuzz, all right? Then I might not have to tell Mr. Stark about this.”

That last thing is mostly self-defence, Tony knows, but that only makes him pity Rogers.

“You have much to learn if you think you can do anything to make the old bastard happy with you,” he says and means it as honest advice. “Fuck me right here or let me back out into the wild, you’re in for a lecture.”

Tony is not the only reason they never keep their staff long. People simply have enough options these days that they do not have to suffer through Howard’s terrible moods.

“He must be used to dealing with groupies,” Rogers says and does not yet make any move to haul Tony to his feet. He could, easily, and Tony would not mind being manhandled a bit if that would not end up with him back on the street. The whole point of coming through the garage was to not wake up Howard.

“Groupies?” Tony repeats, feeling the urge to laugh again, but he does not get enough air into his lungs for that, pressed to the ground as he is. “Please. The only people willing to kiss Howard’s ass are other corporate idiots or gold diggers.”

And the papers, lately, since they have found a better victim in Tony.

“Well, I don’t have to ask which one you are.”

That stings, strangely. This guy’s opinion should not matter and yet Tony has become overly sensitive to these things, if only because no one ever seems to have anything positive to say about him.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have to ask who I am,” Tony says and wiggles in Rogers’ grasp until he can look up at him. “I hope you made him pay you in advance.”

Although that is never a problem. Howard might yell and throw around insults, but he always makes sure that people are paid, if only to keep them from talking. The new guy might not know that, however, and Tony is done being generous.

“Are you ready to leave yet?” Rogers asks instead of answering. He looks as done as Tony feels. “I can do this all day.”

Oh, Tony will destroy him. He is basically begging for it. With a small grin, he says, “I’m more interested in what you can do all night.”

“Stop talking.” The disgust flittering over Rogers’ face is sadly familiar, but that does not mean he will not crack.

“I know a way –”

Tony does not get to finish his sentence because the man pulls him roughly to his feet and gives him a shove that almost sends him down to the ground again. He groans in protest as his ribs ring with pain at the impact.

It is definitely time to end the game. Tony wants his bed and an Advil to stave off the headache he feels building behind his temples. He turns around to keep Rogers from ruining his own life any more, but does not get farther than that.

“What is the meaning of this?” Howard’s voice rings out over the garage, already on the verge of becoming angry. Depending on how much he heard, Tony will need more than an Advil to get through the night.

“Sir –” Rogers says but cuts himself off when Howard shushes him. He stiffens briefly, then straightens as if he wants to salute. The gun is back in its holster, and Tony wonders when that happened, but it is probably better for both their sakes if Howard does not know that Rogers pulled a gun on his son.

Tony turns to fully face his father – and show off his rather indecent clothes. They are not too revealing but still not befitting a Stark out in public.

“Just testing out the new guard dog, daddy dearest,” he drawls while keeping Rogers in the periphery of his vision.

The change on Rogers’ face is a revelation in itself. He looks between Howard and Tony, must see the likeness between them, and realizes how gravely a mistake he has made. It all plays out perfectly on his face, all his emotions displayed clearly.

“You are a disgrace, boy,” Howard snaps. These words have stopped hurting around the hundredth time he has heard them. “I should let him throw you out.”

He has done so before. Locked the doors and refused to let Tony in. “But you’re too afraid of which bed I’d end up sleeping in,” Tony replies sweetly. That was a hard lesson for Howard.

He must remember it too, because his face darkens further. “Get inside.”

Since he did not say Get in my office, maybe Tony cat get away with locking himself in his room while Howard deals with Rogers – who stands nonplussed in the background, likely not understanding the animosity between father and son. They are so similar, after all, and yet poised to destroy each other instead of conquering the world together.

“Don’t fire this one,” Tony says and pats Rogers’ chest as he passes him. “He wasn’t going to let himself be bought.”

That is as much of an argument he can offer on Rogers’ behalf. It is unlikely that Rogers will keep this job for long, but Tony does not want to get him fired the first time they met.

“What use is a bodyguard if he doesn’t recognize his charge?” Howard says, the words full of derision, but that is still directed at Tony.

“Well, you always say I’m nothing like a Stark, so you can’t fault him too much.” He should not sound so happy about this, should not reject the Stark legacy so often in front of his father. This is a cage, though, and he will keep rattling at the bars until they finally give.

“Get out of my sight.”

“Gladly,” Tony says and means it. A dismissal is the best ending for this night. Since there is always a little demon riding on his shoulder, however, Tony turns towards Rogers again. “Good night, gorgeous. And do come by my room if you want to get to know me better. Just so we can avoid you mistaking me for an intruder again.”

It is unfair to stab at someone who cannot fight back, not with Howard watching them, but Tony is all out of sympathy for the night.

“Good night,” Rogers says with beet-red cheeks. Belated, he adds, “Sir.” It does not sound very sincere but it has Tony smirking. This one really will be fun. It Howard does not fire him on the spot. Tony might look for him in the morning. He bets those muscles look even better in sunlight.

#whumptober2020 #no. 3 #Held at Gunpoint #marvel #fanfiction #tony stark #steve rogers #bodyguard steve #my writing #ao3

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Text

Washed Away in You

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: Haha, so this came from this post here and spurring on from @stark-bb! I also managed to throw a little sub!Tony in there (whoop, whoop!) Warnings: This is literally just smut. NSFW stuff, dom/sub undertones, orgasm denial, blowies Summary:

Peter takes Tony apart and puts him back together again, one delayed orgasm at a time.

Read it on AO3 here

Pressed uselessly to the middle of his giant mattress, Tony struggled to remember how he got here – completely taken apart, covered in his own sweat and Peter’s – completely strung out; so insanely strung out, in fact, he couldn’t even think at all.

Earlier that day, Peter sauntered into his office and tried to sit atop his lap. Usually, Tony would have dropped whatever he was doing to wrap Peter up and take advantage of the beautiful man sitting across his thighs, waiting to be worshipped. Today, however, Tony needed to get something for Pepper finished and didn’t have a second to spare. He gave Peter’s ass a swift tap, then nodded with his chin. “I need to finish this, baby. I’m all yours when I’m done.”

He saw the flash of challenge in Peter’s eyes and almost gave in right there. Tony didn’t find himself denying either of them the tantalizing delicacies of the flesh – there was no need to. Wondering for a moment if Peter would accept the answer and leave him to his chore, Tony looked back down at the holoscreen in front of him – eyebrows knitting together in an attempt at concentration.

Peter moved into his line of sight a second later, the man getting up from his perch in Tony’s lap, but still in the way – his solid core covered the expanse of his screen. Sucking in a breath, Tony kept his tone even, the immensity of the situation not ringing a bell until much later on. “Pete, please baby. Just this one thing and then you’ve got all of me.” Tony looked up with pleading eyes, his jaw clenching a little at the expression on Peter’s face.

“But I want you now,” Peter replied softly, the look in his eye a total contradiction to the tone of his voice. His eyes were burning into Tony – his pupils blown completely wide from the apparent arousal that Tony could see sitting just below the surface. Peter grabbed his hand from the desk where it rested and pressed it to the front of his jeans, the bulge there unmistakable.

Tony bit into his bottom lip, the length in his hand one he wanted to devour, even now – with Pepper Potts breathing down his neck, waiting for the very document he wasn’t nearly as close to finishing as he wanted to be. When Peter’s grip on his hand loosened, Tony dropped it like he’d been touching fire. The distraction wouldn’t do – he really needed to get some work done. “Twenty minutes, Pete – I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

A deep sigh left the other’s lips, the gust of air audible, Peter almost close enough for Tony to actually feel the air leaving his lungs. “Are you telling me no?” Peter questioned, the heat in his eyes changing a bit, the arousal sat front and center, but there was something else there, too – a sort of look Tony couldn’t remember ever seeing all too often before.

“I’m telling you not right this second, Pete – “ Tony mumbled in response, his face heating up, the idea of denying his gorgeous boyfriend anything eating at him a bit. Pepper threatened to come up and drag him through the process by his ear if he didn’t get her what she needed, though and he knew that she’d make good on it if push came to shove. A few more minutes couldn’t possibly hurt.

There wasn’t a peep from the other man as he turned and walked away from the desk, his footsteps determined. On the other side of the room, Peter took a seat in the big plush chair he kept there, Tony’s stomach clenching at the thought of the many, many, many fun times they had in that chair. Doing his best to focus on what was in front of him, Tony started to work through the document, his eyes scanning carelessly in a desperate attempt to just get it over and done with.

The sound of a zipper being pulled down had Tony’s head turning, his eyes widening when he saw Peter start to step out of his pants, the red briefs he watched his boyfriend pull on that morning still spread across his ass cheeks in the most tantalizing way. Peter bent over then, his ass in the red fabric completely on display. While he took care of his shoes and socks to get his pants all the way off, Tony gulped and tried to pull his attention back to the screen in front of him.

A soft sigh had him looking back over at Peter a minute or two later – he’d been reading the same sentence over and over, his concentration completely shot. They were suddenly in some sort of game, though – so he kept his head turned just enough to be looking in Peter’s direction, but not recognizably so. His boyfriend was now naked, a hand wrapped around his length, fingers tugging idly at the small patch of hair at the start of the base of his crotch. Brown eyes were closed, the soft looking eyelids keeping the heat in them completely under cover.

For ten minutes, Tony looked back and forth between his work and the explicit picture Peter made on the other side of the room – his heart was pounding and any blood that resided in his brain previously moved down south into the furthest region of his core, his cock throbbing with it. Rushing through the rest, Tony swiped his signature at the end of the document and sent it off, the content in it something he would need to familiarize himself with later; there were better things to attend to now.

Getting up from his chair, Tony moved across the space between them quickly, his steps eager and his body more than ready to take part in whatever Peter had in mind earlier. With only a step or two left to cover, Peter’s eyes popped open, the slackness of his jaw tightened as he spoke. “No, Tony. Don’t come any closer.” His hand picked up the pace on his length, the boy’s strokes becoming off balance and jerky; he was close to the precipice, Tony could tell.

He stopped in his tracks, eyes drifting over Peter’s nakedness until their gazes caught. Tony wanted so badly to put his hands all over that smooth flesh, but he refrained – something in Peter’s voice told him to listen, to keep himself exactly where he was. So, he watched, instead. Peter kept his eyes locked on Tony, his tongue peeking out to trail across already wet lips; the whole vision of it almost enough to bring Tony to his knees.

Peter came all over himself a few minutes later, Tony’s name and an abundance of fucks leaving his throat in the neediest of ways, each sound pulling him closer, despite the command to stay. He resisted until Peter’s hand stopped, the glistening cum on his fingers calling Tony’s name, practically begging him to sop up all the goodness covering untouched skin.

“Are you ready for me now, Tony? I can see you itching to get your hands on me – you’re practically foaming at the mouth. Is that what you want? To touch me?” Peter whispered the questions at him, his voice still a little breathy from the intensity of his orgasm. The younger man sat there shamelessly, Peter making no move to approach or even wipe the cum off of his stomach.

“Yeah. Yes – I want to touch you. I want to run my fingers through the mess on your stomach and use it to ply you open,” Tony retorted, the words coming out of his mouth like water from a faucet. While usually talkative during their encounters, Tony didn’t just babble things like that. He usually spoke with purpose – his words always meant to tease and tongue tie; never to admit his baser desires. Never for that.

The smile that overtook Peter’s face made Tony groan – the younger man had something cooking up in that beautiful mind of his. “That’s what I thought. How about this instead,” Peter shifted in the chair a bit while he spoke. “You’re going to get on your knees and hold your hands behind your back. You can touch all you want, but only with your tongue. If you use your hands, I’ll tie them up.” He smirked then, both men already knowing that by the end of this, Tony would probably be bound up, his traitorous hands unable to keep away from flesh that called to him like a siren song.

Moving as quickly as he could, Tony narrowed the distance between them and unceremoniously dropped to his knees. His hands shot out to grip Peter’s calves, but he caught himself at the last minute – fingers balling into a fist, instead. He reached behind his back with both hands, his right wrist grabbing hold of the left one. Looking up, Tony leaned in and opened his mouth.

He started at Peter’s chest, the rogue droplets all the way up near his neck. Dipping it into Peter’s collarbone, Tony took his time collecting the salty goodness there. His eyes closed in pleasure, the delicate taste of simply Peter and his release one of Tony’s favorite things. The trail of cum led him down Peter’s taut abs to his belly button, his rogue tongue dipping in to trace and poke. The mass of it sat in a small puddle at the bottom of Peter’s stomach, the trail of hair there leading directly down to an already reawakening erection.

Tony lapped at the skin like a dog, his entire body thrumming with arousal with each pass of his tongue. When there was nothing left, Tony reached up to grab Peter’s knees – the hope of pulling his legs wider shot from the sky almost immediately. “I said tongue only, Tony. You don’t listen very well,” Peter said, his hands first batting Tony’s away, then sinking into the long hair at the back of the older man’s head, fingers gripping tightly. “Bad listeners don’t get to touch.”

Peter used the leverage of his grip to pull Tony’s head until the man was looking at him. Tony took in a deep breath when their eyes locked, the true meaning of what was going on finally hitting him. Feeling the need to immediately submit, he relaxed the rest of his body, his head the only thing leaning into the touch. “I can be good. I can – “ Tony babbled. His brain to mouth filter was quickly on its way to obliteration and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Shh, Tony – it’s okay. I don’t want your words. You’ll have to show me.” Peter’s nostrils flared then, the immensity of what he said probably doing just as much to him as it did to Tony. They didn’t dabble in this type of stuff often, but when they did – they went all out. Keeping his gaze locked with Peter’s, Tony nodded his head, then dropped it in submission.

----

After the nonverbal acceptance, Peter got out of the chair without missing a beat, his fingers still tangled tightly in Tony’s hair. He pulled until Tony got up and onto his feet, a groan leaving his lips from the sweet pleasure-pain of the move. The hand from his hair moved until the length of Tony’s neck was clenched in its grip. Peter gave his hand a squeeze and pushed, his intention of leaving the room immediately understood. Tony led them down the hallway with Peter’s hand applying pressure, the pace of his steps moderated by the tightness of the squeeze.

Once in the bedroom, Peter methodically went about stripping him of his clothes, nimble fingers more than familiar with the routine now that they’d been together for almost a year. It was funny, how far the young man had come – Tony could still remember when Peter couldn’t even ask for the things he wanted. Look at him now. Biting down the grin that attempted to surface, Tony kept completely still, his desire to be good so strong in that moment.

Peter pushed him onto the bed when he was completely naked, his eyes roaming hungrily over Tony’s body – it was laughable, the literal Adonis looking at him like that, a mere peasant in comparison. Tony scooted up the bed until he was in the middle of it, the California king swallowing him up the closer he got to the nest of pillows they kept there.

Throwing his hands up over his head, Tony gripped at the pillows he could reach, the want to slide a hand down his own chest and grip his cock starting to get a little overwhelming. Peter watched him avidly, a nod of approval coming his way when the other noticed his actions – a quick fix to a nasty predicament.

The touches started at his feet, Peter’s finger trailing from the bottom of his foot, across the arch, and around each one of his toes. The other foot got the same treatment. Peter kept the press of his fingers to just the tips of them, the light dance of the caresses like a tickle or an itch. Getting to his ankles, Peter flattened out his hands and let the entirety of his palm run up Tony’s shins and across the bridge of his knee. He stopped at the edge of his quads, fingers tiptoeing across the musculature and only stopping at the v of his thighs.

Tony spread his legs a little wider and tossed his head back, his bottom lip getting abused by his teeth as he held back the needy words that threatened to fall from his lips. Peter wanted actions, not words – Tony could give him that, he could bite his tongue for the greater good.

The distraction of his thoughts was good, he could barely feel the bed move and shift with Peter’s weight, the younger man finally settling fully between his legs. Strong hands pushed on the inside of his thighs to spread his legs further, Tony shifting them willingly. His fingers clenched the soft down pillow a little harder, Peter’s breath ghosting over his balls as he leaned down to get closer to the key to ultimate teasing. Tony felt his sack draw up a little, his body on fire with arousal and the almost there feeling of falling over the edge.

Peter continued huffing out breaths against the skin of Tony’s arousal, the warm air making goosebumps spread out over the planes of his flesh – he wanted so badly to thrust up into the source of that heat. He felt the case of the pillow he was holding rip in his hand, the sound bringing Peter’s eyes up to look at him, a mischievous smile permanently rendered on his lips. “You’re beautiful like this, Tony,” Peter said, the tone sultry, their eyes still locked together. “I can see how much you’re trying in the quiver of your muscles. It’s so hard to be good, isn’t it?”

The words were followed by a tight squeeze on the base of his cock, Peter’s hand wrapping around him out of nowhere dragging a gasp out of his lips against his will. Slamming his mouth shut, Tony drew his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down hard – the slight taste of copper in his mouth telling him he drew blood. Good – he’d need something to worry at later.

Loosening his grip, Peter started to slowly stroke over the sensitive flesh of Tony’s cock – the pace measured; just enough to keep him close, not enough to let the heat boil up and bubble over. His lover knew him so well, the exact way he liked a swift flick of the wrist on the upstroke and the tightness of grip that drove him absolutely insane. It was blissful torture – Peter’s thumb brushed over the head of his cock and Tony almost lost it. “Oh, fuck!” he shouted – his fingers ripping more of the pillowcase as he fought to hold on to his control.

A wicked grin slipped across Peter’s lips and suddenly, the touch was gone. His cock was standing straight up, precum drooling down the side, the trail oozing until it started to collect on his belly. “What did I say about words, Tony? Actions, baby. Keep quiet for me.” Peter’s words were short, the clipped nature of them making his cock jump more.

Without the scorching touch of Peter’s hand around him, Tony found it a little easier to calm down – his need to cum flagging just enough to hang on to the dredges of self-control. Peter didn’t let him have too much time, however – the view of long legs was suddenly right in his line of vision. Thighs bracketed his head, the heat of Peter’s body almost immediately taking him back to the edge. The hair on his legs tickled his oversensitive skin and Tony shuddered, his eyes slamming shut.

Tony opened his mouth when he felt the nudge of Peter’s cock at the seam of his lips. The other grabbed the back of his head, deft fingers tangling in the hair there. He pulled until Tony’s head was up off the mattress, the access to more of his mouth way better at this angle. The thrusts started off gently, the tip of Peter’s cock barely breaching the confines of his lips.

“The view from this angle is so sexy – your lips wrapped around my cock, my balls hitting your chin every single time I thrust forward. I can’t believe the look in your eye, Tony – if you could beg right now, you would. For more of my cock, for the burn of your skin to reach a peak so it stops scorching you. So fucking sexy.” With each word, the younger man started to increase the pace and depth of his thrusts – the last few sounded choked off as Tony took every single inch of Peter’s length with grace, his throat slack and ready.

“Jesus – your mouth, Tony. There are so many great things that come out of it – theories, fucking technological masterpieces. This is your greatest piece, though – drool dripping down your chin, your mouth stuffed to the brim with all of me.” The fingers in Tony’s hair tightened further, Peter getting a little reckless the closer he got to his own end.

He felt Peter’s orgasm about a second before the back of his throat was painted with a thick stream of cum. Tony’s throat jumped, his breath coming rapidly through his nose as he tried to adjust to the assault of Peter’s cock pressing in further than he’d been when his orgasm started. Doing his best to swallow, Tony forced himself to relax – a few stray tears slipping down his cheeks with the strain.

The younger man didn’t pull back until his cock started to deflate – Tony almost missing the fullness of his throat when it was no longer there. Peter looked down at him with a hazy smile, his eyes wide, blown to bits by the arousal that could be tangibly felt in the room. His boyfriend shuffled until he was back between Tony’s legs – his chest conspicuously settling against his aching erection, the weight of him almost enough contact to get him there. Tony bit into the open wound on his lip and let the pain distract him.

Eager lips pressed against his own and followed his tongue, Peter running the tip of his own tongue over the bite, the touch a nice combination of soothing and arousal spiking. “You’re doing great, baby. Absolutely amazing,” Peter mumbled as he pulled away, his nose brushing tenderly over Tony’s – the contact so soft after the rough face-fucking he’d just taken.

----

What felt like ages later, Tony’s hands were clenched in the sheets down by his sides – his entire body on fire from the stimulation all over the place. Peter took his time kissing down his neck and chest, over his stomach – even pulling at the trail of hair that led down to his cock with his teeth. It was exquisite torture and quickly getting harder to handle by the second. Warm lips skipped purposefully over his cock, their descent aimed further into the crevice of his ass cheeks – the younger man swiping his tongue down his cleft before pulling them apart to expose his fluttering hole.

Peter didn’t waste any time, he simply dove in and started to tongue mercilessly at Tony’s rim. An unexpected howl slipped from his mouth – the suddenness of the attack bringing him from zero to a billion in the space of a millisecond. It didn’t faze him, though – Peter simply doubled up his efforts, the tip of his tongue darting in and out of the now loosened muscle.

Tony felt all ties to his control start to fade away, his mouth open, fingers gripping the sheets hard, the fabric probably not going to hold up to the clench for much longer. Before long, Peter pressed a finger in alongside his tongue, the stimulation of both slick and wet and long and rigid making him shout again – words tumbling out of his mouth without thought, the babble his only mechanism to stop the inevitable rush of an orgasm that was a long time in the making.

“Fuck, Pete – please. Please. I won’t say no again. I won’t. Please, baby.” It was all said in a rush, Tony shamelessly flushing even further as the words reached his own ears. He sounded needy and blissed out, like the drone bee buzzing thoughtlessly in divine worship of the glorious queen. Peter had successfully pulled him apart at the seams, the lesson of the day absolutely learned.

Thankfully, Peter took mercy on him, the younger man shifting until he was leaning over Tony to get to the bedside drawer. He returned with a triumphant smile and lube in his hand. The snick of the bottle was the last thing Tony heard, his body slumping into the mattress when Peter settled back into the space between his legs, slicked himself, and pressed in without hesitation. It was glorious, the feeling of coming home washing over him. “Thank fuck,” Tony whimpered, his head thrown carelessly back against the mattress.

Lips wandered over the exposed skin of his throat until they were settled against the shell of his ear, Peter’s hips rolling lightly, the tip of his cock just barely grazing his prostate. “Just a little longer, baby. You’re almost there.” Peter rumbled against his ear, his hips pulling back and really starting to thrust.

It didn’t take long, Tony felt close to the point of passing out from the need to finally let go. His cock throbbed, the head of It a dark purple color – the blood collecting there making it feel close to exploding. When Peter reached between them, he lost it. “Please, Pete. I – “ Tony slurred, his brain mush at this point, the older man surprised he got anything out at all.

“Cum for me, Tony. I’m right there with you.”

No sooner were the words out of Peter’s lips did Tony finally let himself go. His orgasm hit him like a freight train, black spots dancing in front of his eyes, a steady stream of unintelligible words like ‘fuck’ and ‘Peter’ rolling from his mouth. He felt like melted goo, every piece of him slumping into the mattress below him. The satisfying feeling of Peter filling him barely registered, every part of him wreck beyond repair.

Peter curling up to his side wasn’t noticed until many, many, many minutes later. He spent a little bit of time feeling like he was floating outside of his body and that was too good a thing to come down from. Being met with soft eyes and a sneaky smile eased the fall – Peter was beautiful, the only person in this world that could rip him apart and knit him back together as an even better version of himself.

“I love you,” Tony rumbled sleepily, his arm tightening around him as much as the minimal energy coursing through him would allow.

Peter nosed into the side of his neck, his head resting there. “I love you, too.”

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