#while tony wants to see how far fighting can take them before they seduce their way out of the problem | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marvelsswansong · 4 years

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Peach Lipgloss

Summary: He’s a sophmore at MIT who has hung up his superhero suit for university. She’s a well known killer with the power to seduce and manipulate anyone she pleases. Of course the universe would make them soulmates.

Words: 6.1K

Tags: soulmate au (soulmates can’t hurt each other), forbidden love (kinda), college!Peter, femmefatale!reader. Violence, heavy sexual themes, proceed with caution.

a/n: REPOST since first one didn’t show up in tags :( sorry to those who already read this 4 hours ago

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Massachusetts, USA

Quickly shoving his crinkled notes into his bag, Peter was the first person to be out of the classroom the moment Theoretical Physics was done and over with. Reaching for the zipper as he made his way out the marbled doors, he paused at the sight of the crumpled red and black fabric in his bag.

He didn’t know why he still carried his spiderman suit with him, considering the vow he’d made to pack it away along with his hero life the moment he arrived at MIT. But the lingering sense of danger and doubt never left him so he could never quite part with it, so he always kept the suit and extra shooters in a concealed compartment in his backpack.

He never knew when he’d need it, he reasoned.

Crossing the large green lawn, he breathed in the earthy air, staring up at the clear blue sky. Fall was starting to roll into the state of Massachusetts, the trees lining the sidewalk were orange and red, and the lawn of daffodils under the library building had begun to bloom. He greeted a group of people he recognized from his engineering class as he crossed over to the south-side of the campus, passing by a row of cluttered dorms. He checked his wristwatch- the one May had gifted him before he left for university- still 10 minutes left until class started.

He slipped into the empty classroom and sat on the first row of chairs when his cellphone started ringing. Peter frowned, his mind failing to think of who would need to speak to him during school hours. He unlocked it to see Tony’s name appear on the screen, a sight only reserved for emergencies.

“We’ll only call you if we can’t do it without you.” his mentor had said, the day before Peter had left for MIT.

“Hello?” Peter answered quietly, as a few students began to fill into the room.

“How quickly can you come to Santorini?”

Tony sounded exhausted on the other side of the phone. Peter nervously chewed on his lip, not liking where this conversation was going.

“With all due respect, Mr.Stark, I can’t just drop everything right now and fly to Greece. I have-”

“Nuclear Science and Engineering right now, I know. I also know you have finals in a month but that’s nothing I can’t call in a favour for. I happen to be good friends with the Dean and the Provost of MIT.”

More people began filling the room as the professor walked in, forcing Peter to cover his phone with his hand and whisper, turning away from the crowd.

“I get that, but, I’m taking a break from the whole hero business. I want to focus on university and having a life without risking it every few days, you know?”

“And I agree that you should have all those things. Come on, Peter. I haven’t called you for a mission for the first year and a half of your university. I meant what I said when I told you we’d only call you if we literally couldn’t do it without you. I’m begging you, kid.”

Peter could imagine Tony pinching the bridge of his nose, pacing around the room in frustration while trying to convince Peter. He was reluctant, but the desperation in Tony’s voice didn’t go unnoticed and his hands were moving faster than his brain. Packing his things back up, he quietly exited the classroom and sighed into the phone.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“Great. Don’t worry about your classes or your exams, I’ll make sure it’s handled. Pack enough for two weeks. I’m sending you a private jet to your nearest airport in two hours. See you then.”

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

Santorini, Greece

Peter felt like he was melting under the hot Grecian sun, the sticky humid air mixing with the ocean breeze blowing in from the southwest. He adjusted his sunglasses, the sweat causing it to slide down the bridge of his nose repeatedly, his skin smelling of an odd combination of aftershave and sunscreen. It felt strange, to say the least, to go from spending months in grey sweatpants and thick burgundy hoodies in the freezing cold weather of Cambridge to now being dressed down in a red Hawaii shirt and grey khakis in the sunny island of Santorini.

“You okay, Peter?” Steve called out from behind him, wearing a not so obvious disguise of a baseball cap paired with white rimmed sunglasses. That said, they needed to ‘blend in’, as Tony put in, and Peter had to admit- among the crowds, they just looked like a group of innocent American tourists. And not a band of superheroes, trying to catch a super-villain in her acts.

“I’m fine, just… thirsty.” he replied, swallowing thickly.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Steve told Peter to stay put and disappeared into a nearby path lined with shops, leaving the young boy in the middle of the cobblestone street. The rest of the team were scattered across the island in an attempt to catch her, an infamous killer with no name, no trace. Just a pretty face and a signature carving of a heart on her victim’s bodies. He’d gotten the information dump on the plane ride here, in which Maria drilled the information into his head.

“This is all the information we’ve gathered on her so far.” her tone was somber as she flicked over a thin manila folder to him, which he opened with a flick of his thumb before holding up the piece of paper.

“It’s one page.”

She bit her lip, frustrated.

“We’ve been unsuccessful in gathering much information about her. What we have on her is ambiguous at best, except a few things: she’s about 20, she’s a master seductress, able to seduce anyone into carrying out her commands. She kills her prey and carves a heart onto their bodies. And the only way to avoid her powers is to avoid looking into her eyes.”

“Is there even a photo of what she looks like?” he questioned, his curiosity piqued.

“A few we’ve managed to piece together from some security cameras.”

She tossed him a few pictures onto his lap, each varying in quality. From the set, however, he could make out that she had (h/c) hair, a light/dark/middle skin-tone, and was of a short/regular/tall stature. It looked like she was wearing a sparkly silver dress in the first photo, which was taken on the side of a street in Milan, then a pink checkered tank top and matching skirt in the second one, taken in Paris, and an over-sized black hoodie with black heels on a bridge in London.

The photos were either too dark or taken too far away to really catch her face, but just by looking at these photos he could tell- she was beautiful. Stunning, even. Even without powers he was sure she could seduce anyone she liked.

“Thing is, she always gets away right before we can catch her. SHIELD has been onto her for a while but no matter who we send, no matter how discreet, low level or which gender… they end up dead or return back dazed with no memory of what happened.”

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Is that a part of it?”

Maria sighed..

“Depends. Sometimes she doesn’t kill the people she uses her powers on and the victims just end of having a dazed, hazy feeling for a few hours. They then have a hard time remembering what exactly happened, making our job infinitely harder.”

An uneasy silence filled the air, as Peter shifted in his seat. This sounded like the hardest mission yet.

“So why am I needed?”

“Your supernatural senses allow you to sense any immediate danger or harm nearby you, regardless of sight, right? So we’re hoping that you’re able to fight and capture her without ever being under her influence, by closing your eyes and relying on your ‘spidey senses’ instead. Do you still have your web shooters on you?”

He nodded.

“If you find her, web her to her surroundings, turn around so you’re not looking into her eyes, then call us over. She can’t influence all of us at once, so that’d give us an advantage and plenty of time to sedate her and bring her over.”

The web shooter concealed underneath his wrist watch was starting to itch, breaking the somewhat vacational bliss he was feeling from sitting on the edge of the white wall and watching the waves go by. Checking the time with a flick of his wrist, it dawned on him that Steve had disappeared to get him some water for a bit too long. Fifteen minutes to be exact.

What was going on?

He slipped into the alleyway where Steve disappeared, wandering straightforward rather aimlessly until he caught sight of the familiar blonde hair a few feet away. Except, his back was turned towards Peter as he lounged on a chair on the outskirts of a cafe, and he was talking to someone he didn’t recognize. Adrenaline kicked in, forcing Peter to duck behind a nearby corner before his eyes fell on the woman Steve was talking to.

It was her.

The woman in the photos.

And fuck, you were stunning. You weren’t wearing anything particularly fancy, just a white lacy sundress and pink pastel flats, but every crevice of the fabric clung to your skin glowing in the caramel sunlight, making the modest piece somehow sensual and teasing. Sitting with one leg crossed over the other he felt as if you were teasing any wandering gaze to land upon your skin, calling out with the same lull as a siren’s. Your lips were painted glossy pink and Peter realized that your eyes were glowing the same shade, a glittery candy floss pink that reflected in Steve’s previously blue orbs.

“So what brings you here, soldier?” you questioned, toying with the soldier.

Your voice dripped like sweet honey and wrapped around your surroundings like a vice.

“On a mission to bring you in.” Peter noted that Steve’s voice was suddenly robotic and eerily not like him.

You pursed your lips, crossing your arms.

“So SHIELD is still after me, huh? You know, even HYDRA was less insisting.”

Wrapping your hand around Steve’s arm, you brought him closer towards you as you felt the cold steel surface of your knife shift underneath your dress, the blade itching to dig into fresh skin.

“I should kill you, you know. You and the Avengers just keep on coming after me and I’m getting tired of playing around…” you drawled, quiet for no one else to hear you except for Peter with his superhero senses.

Peter could feel his heart pound in his chest, as Steve stood motionless while you took out the large sharp blade and started trailing it down Steve’s leg, hidden from plain sight, with not enough pressure to break the skin just yet. Peter quickly took out his phone and alerted Tony of his current location, as you paid for the meal and led Steve towards a dark alleyway, surely to dispose of the super soldier.

Tony’s reply was immediate.

‘Got it. Stay put. Don’t interfere unless you have to.’

Crouching back down, Peter quickly took off his backpack and changed into his suit, before slowly trailing behind you.

The flat side of the blade was now underneath Steve’s throat, right where it could slice through the jugular veins and kill him. His pink hooded eyes were still looking at you as you smiled, leaning in and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“Sad… you were one of my favorites.”

You raised your blade in the air, ready to slash his throat, when a flash of white passed by and knocked the blade out of your hand. Peter quickly ran out, one hand over his eyes and the other outstretched to pull Steve backwards and out of harm’s way.

“S-stay back.” he muttered, the lack of vision plus the adrenaline adding to his anxiety. Your eyes widened upon seeing the red and black hero standing in front of you, in Greece, of all places.

This was certainly an interesting development.

“Now why would I do that?” you asked, pulling a gun out of your thigh holster and aiming it towards him.

“Because the rest are coming.” he replied, thankful that is voice was no longer shaking.

Your eyes widened at the response before you pouted, trailing your bottom lip dangerously with your tongue.

“In that case… Captain-”

Steve stood right up straight at the sound of your voice, pushing Peter backwards.

“Take him out for me, would you?”

And before Peter could do or say anything, Steve swung his fist in his direction, forcing Peter to open his eyes and jump back. By the time he looked at where you were standing before you were gone, the realization sticking in his mind for a brief moment before Steve tried to knock him back down again.

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

Tokyo, Japan

A few days after the disaster in Santorini (Steve still wouldn’t look him in the eye after he snapped out of his violent trance three hours later when the effect wore off), the team had gotten word that she was spotted out and about in Japan. And that led Peter here, standing in the middle of a busy street crossing, surrounded by big flashing billboards and tall glass skyscrapers. He adjusted his light rimmed glasses- they had a tiny microscopic camera attached to the lens that could record everything- as he shoved through the busy crowd, the address written in the note inside his coat pocket replaying in his head.

After a few unsuccessful conversations with locals who were passing by, he was lucky enough to run into someone who spoke moderate English. She gave him an odd look when he handed over the piece of paper and she typed in the address onto her phone, but nonetheless pointed him in the right direction. He thanked her before walking east, the loud noise of scurrying feet and the whirring of cars driving by blocking his thoughts.

“Peter? Can you hear me?” Tony’s voice rang out through his earpiece, causing Peter to discreetly adjust it. After the not so successful attempt last time to capture her, the team had advised a new plan- Peter would go in alone without his suit but with just his web shooters, pretending to be just another patron at the club, and talk to her discreetly before trapping her with his web before the others could take her in.

He was just lucky his face was concealed the first time they met.

“Yes. I’m almost at the address you gave me. It’s a club, right?”

There was a momentary pause.

“Yeah, it’s a club. Point is, be careful. We’ll be watching your every move and we can hear everything that’s going on, so don’t worry.”

“I’ll be cautious.”

The building that matched the address was a modestly sized glass building with steel doors and a menacing looking bodyguard outside, who asked him for his ID in perfect English. After giving the man his school ID he was let inside where a skimpily clad woman asked him for his coat, the little blue bikini number leaving little to the imagination. His face felt hot and his throat tightened when he hastily took off his coat and gave it away to the woman, as the realization settled in.

He wasn’t in just any club.

He was in a stripclub.

Swallowing his embarrassment the best he could, he quietly went through the next set of glass doors, which led out to a dim hallway lit up by bright pink LED lights. A slew of men and a couple of women sat around the bar and near the light up stages, where several girls in tight dresses twirled around the pole set to a sensual song. It was hard to make out the faces under the dim blue lighting, so he opted to blend in by walking to the bar in the middle and ordering a drink. He tried to look anywhere but where the scantily clad women were and stared at a nearby TV screen instead, when a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Strawberry Daiquiri, please.”

You were facing straight forward, thus allowing Peter to catch a quick glance at you. You sensed a set of eyes on your figure and looked back, only to see Peter blushing and looking down at his lap to avert his gaze. Sliding over a few seats, you leaned against the bar table, the slit on your mini skirt exposing your upper thigh.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” you commented slyly, drinking in the sight of him. He was younger than most of your prey- you preferred to go for men who were older than you- but he looked just as good as the others. Tousled brown curls, defined muscles flexing underneath his white polo shirt, a shy demeanor… He was adorable.

“S-sorry.” he murmured, still not looking into your eyes. You figured he was nervous and chuckled, taking a slow slip of your sugary drink.

“It’s alright… you’re not a part of this usual crowd, are you?”

“Good. Keep on talking to her to distract her. We’re on our way.” Tony spoke in Peter’s ear. He regained his confidence to look up for a brief moment to snatch his drink off the table, the strong taste of whiskey burning his throat.

“What makes you say that?” he asked quietly, swirling his drink with his straw. You leaned closer, the sweet draft of your vanilla and honeycomb lotion drifting over him as you smirked.

“Well, for starters, you’re not looking at any of the strippers here. And two, you’re not even looking at me.”

He needed an excuse, so he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind.

“Sorry, I just, uh, I have a hard time looking at pretty girls.”

You were caught off guard by that comment, and it showed for a brief moment on your face. You were used to men calling you a slew of names, but calling you pretty? In such a sincere way? While blushing? This was new. A new urge surged through your veins as you placed your hand on his lap, rubbing his thigh.

“Then what’d you say we go somewhere more private? Like the VIP Lounge? You can look at me all you want then.”

He nodded shyly and allowed you to drag him to the back area of the club, where you slipped a security guard five hundred dollars to let you pass the velvet rope with him behind you. There was no one else in sight, just the two of them and the soft cushiony sofa lining the walls. His throat felt dry as you pushed him down onto the seat, your body straddling his as you climbed onto his lap.

“So-”

A sharp ringing noise cried out in his ear, causing Peter to yelp in pain and rip out the earpiece in reflex. You quickly put two and two together before ripping off his glasses and grabbing his chin to force him to look at you, the brief moment of shock and confusion on his face enough time for you to put him under your trance. The tension left his body as his eyes turned pastel pink, allowing you to crawl off his lap and crush the earpiece under your heels. You did the same to the glasses, just for good measure, before taking out the wallet from his jeans.

You examined the cards inside, starting with the ID cards. Name: Peter Parker. Sophomore at MIT. A Stark Tower entry pass?

You scowled, tossing the wallet to the side. That probably meant they were on their way right now. Taking out a four inch blade from your bra, you decided you needed to send them a message. Pushing his head to the side, you were ready to slice his throat, the tip of your blade against his skin, and-

Nothing.

Your hand stayed frozen mid-air, your brain screaming at your body to carry on with the action but your body remained frozen. Bringing your hand back down, you tried again, this time a stab to the heart. But you physically couldn’t harm him, no matter the angle at which you tried.

“Fuck.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you dropped the blade in horror and stepped backwards, the realization settling in your gut. If you couldn’t kill him, that meant…

The thought horrified you to no end, the kind of immediate horror that made you want to throw up onto the floor, the previously loud pounding of the music drowned to the background as the walls began to close in on you. Blinking away your tears, you commanded Peter to stay sitting in his room before grabbing your coat and exiting the room, being able to find a nearby window that you could jump down from. Your feet met the ground as you wrapped the coat closer to your body, your heels clicked against the pavement as you quickly hired a cab back to your mansion.

This was bad.

So, so bad.

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

New York, USA

When Peter awoke from his trance he was lying down on a soft bed with a weighted blanket in what seemed like the hospital wing of Stark Tower, with streaks of sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the window. His memory felt foggy, the last thing he remembered was being terrified when the earpiece malfunctioned and your eyes turned bright pink with anger. His thoughts were interrupted when Bruce walked into the room, a soft smile on his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, handing over a glass of water. Peter accepted it, muttering a quiet thank you.

“Strange… What happened?”

The doctor sighed, biting his lower lip.

“We’re not sure. She crushed the glasses we gave you right after she found out you had an earpiece in, but when we entered the room, you were left unharmed, just sitting on the sofa.”

“Unharmed? I thought she liked to kill all her prey. Or at the very least, hurt them in some way.”

Bruce nodded, scribbling something onto his notepad.

“That’s the thing. We have no clue why you were the odd exception. Director Fury has been wracking his brain for the past seven hours trying to figure out why she spared you.”

A momentary silence passed by, as Peter looked up at the man with an unsure gaze.

“What now?” he asked, the thoughts of MIT and returning to Cambridge still in his mind.

“We’re going to try to monitor her route for a little longer and devise a new plan. I know Tony said you only needed two weeks off but Fury insists that you’re the key to capturing her and wants you to stay on for at least another week.”

Peter sighed, giving in.

“I guess that’s fine. I mean, what choice do I really have?”

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

Milan, Italy

It’d been a solid week since you last killed a man.

A whole seven days.

You were sure the Avengers were noticing your absence, trying to understand just why you’d spared one of their precious heroes and then went dark for a whole week afterwards. Just thinking back on that night made your stomach turn, the way adrenaline pumped through your veins as you were prepared to kill your soulmate.

For the first time in a while, you were disgusted with yourself. You had almost killed your soulmate, and in another universe where you could harm him, he would’ve been dead at your hands. It was getting harder and harder to remember why you’d started this life as you lounged in a private pool in Milan, the mansion overlooking a dark green forest.

It was in a dimly lit facility, a few hundred miles from here, that had turned you into this force of nature. Having lost your parents to a car accident at a young age, you were starved and anxious for any sort of money when you overheard that a scientist was offering hundreds of thousands of dollars to a woman who was willing to be his test subject. He was seductive, older, and richer. You fell for his promises and signed your life away at the age of 15.

Five months of torture later, you awoke to see that your eyes were glowing pink. When you made eye contact with a security guard nearby he wordlessly opened the prison door for you, and shot the scientist who experimented on you right on the spot. Grabbing the keys from the man’s lab coat, you pulled out the file filled with the names of the investors from all over the world who’d donated to help this man corrupt and abuse you.

And apparently, you weren’t his first test subject.

You grabbed his wallet on the way out and hopped into a car parked on the sidewalk of a gas station, and never looked back since then. You were young and scared, but hungry for revenge. You’d make sure those men would pay, and any other man who would try to take advantage of young girls, for that matter.

Killing was the only option.

Perhaps you’d lost your morality along the way, you reasoned. If you had any, in the first place. What started out as a semi-respectable revenge killing spree had somehow morphed into an exhilarating repeated cycle of seduction, murder and money. A disgusting sensation was settling in- perhaps guilt- as you huffed and threw away your sunglasses to the side.

No, you were doing the right thing. You knew the things that the Avengers believed above you- dangerous, homicidal, killer of innocent men. You laughed at that notion- as if most of your victims weren’t assholes in some ways, or didn’t treat you like an animal to be hunted down and ravaged. Sharpening your knife on the kitchen counter, you breathed in and out slowly, calming yourself down. This whole soulmate business was really messing with your head.

You needed a fresh new kill to settle your mind.

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

London, UK

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tony asked Peter for what felt like the thousandth time of that night, anxiety gnawing in his gut. In reality, there wasn’t much left to be discussed- Fury had insisted Peter stay on this project till the moment of your capture, even though at this point Tony had had enough of keeping Peter away from his education and was actually fighting for Peter’s right to return to university. But Peter felt a sort of curiosity and a pull to you that he couldn’t explain, so he found himself insisting on going on this mission.

They’d been able to finally find a link amongst the men you would target- well, at least a somewhat common link. A large majority of them happened to be investors in an Italian company that specialized in biochemical engineering, and it so happened that a handful of them were meeting in an exclusive rooftop party in London- making the chances of your appearance higher than ever.

“Remember, this time, don’t even hesitate. The moment you see her, shoot the tranquilizer in her direction so we can subdue her.” Steve repeated, handing over the tranquilizer gun to him. Peter nodded, slipping it into the waistband of his pants so that it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone nearby. “The rest of us will be in disguise around the party, right by your side, just in case anything goes wrong.”

“Sounds good.”

It was hard to keep the nerves off of his voice, when he himself felt on edge about the whole thing. There’d been countless of times, even before he was called in, when they were so close to capturing you. But you’d always managed to slip past their fingers at a moment’s notice, disappearing without a trance before popping up with a new victim on the other side of the world.

The party was in full swing when Peter strolled in, and his eyes immediately began to search for a woman of your stature. Gently pushing through the crowd of drunk dancers, he passed by the champagne bar when he saw someone who looked a lot like you from the back sitting by the balcony, chatting with another woman whom he did not recognize. Knowing it was too early to strike, Peter treated himself to a glass of wine, keeping one eye on you at all times. When the other woman got up to use the bathroom, Peter took out his gun from his waistband and positioned it perfectly, his finger on the trigger-

He couldn’t shoot.

He swore, checking to make sure the gun was fully loaded before trying again, but nothing.

Frustrated, he placed the glass aggressively on a nearby table and marched out onto the balcony, the gun still aimed at you. But no matter the mental gymnastics he put himself through, he just couldn’t fucking shoot.

“Peter?”

Your voice wrapped around him, soft and sweet, as Peter edged forward, the gun in his hand beginning to shake with all the effort he was putting into shooting. Then in his adrenaline clouded mind it finally clicked- the longing, the pull, the inability to harm you…

“Y-you’re my soulmate.” he stuttered, the last word hanging in the air. You looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes, as he stood motionless in his spot. He should be alerting the rest of the group. He should, at the very least, be tugging you into the party to be captured. But he can’t move, his feet stuck to the floor as the weight of gravity on his back seems to increase. He’s speechless as you lowly speak, your eyes fixated on the floor.

“Listen… you can’t hurt me, I can’t hurt you. Just let me go.”

“I can’t do that.” he says firmly, his consciousness slowly starting to seep back in.

She’s beautiful, he thinks, as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him, her doe eyes wet from the salty tears beginning to form.

“Why not? It’s not like we can even be together.”

He slowly walks over and places his hands on you, expecting you to push him away. But you don’t, gaze still on the floor and unmoving. He doesn’t quite know what to say, the emotions overwhelming but the words not able to move past his tongue.

“Are you here with the other Avengers?”

He nods, swallowing thickly.

“Then I should get going.” you respond, starting to pull up the hems of your dress. But he stops you, grabbing you wrist, and stopping you mid-way.

“W-wait. Don’t go.”

You laugh halfheartedly.

“Then go where?”

He waits for a moment, but then he drops the question.

“Do you trust me?” he decides to ask, pulling your chin upwards. “Please don’t use your powers on me, just tell me. Do you trust me?”

There’s a slight hesitation on your end but you nod.

“Then come with me to New York.”

That elicits a violent reaction from you as you push him off, your eyes wide with anger and shock.

“Are you fucking serious? You want me to turn myself in?” you yell, not caring about who hears you. He clenches his jaw at your response.

“All I’m saying is I want my soulmate to be with me, and safe.”

You let out a bitter laugh at that statement.

“With you? Peter, you don’t even know my real name. You don’t even know me, as a person. You’re an MIT educated superhero. I’m wanted in 72 countries and have killed men in the triple digits. Do you really think I’d be welcomed with open arms?”

His eyes darken at the mention of your death as he clenches his fist, his gaze unnerving.

“I won’t let them harm you.”

His stubbornness is infuriating.

“That’s the thing, Parker! You don’t get to decide whether or not I get harmed.”

“Why won’t you just trust me?” his tone is low but still soft as he marches towards you and grabs your wrist. You try to pull away but can’t, the sudden strength catching you off guard.

“Because apparently, you don’t care about me enough to see that it’s a fucking death sentence if I go back with you to New York-”

Your rant is cut off with a swift kiss to your lips, you can taste the underlying tones of his half-drunken cherry wine and your peach lipgloss mixing together. His teeth tug at your bottom lip as his hand grips your waist, shoving you against the marble column overlooking the balcony. All the anger and fear that’s been running through your mind the past few hours melts away and you swear he’s putting a trance on you, and not the other way around. When he finally pulls back, his gaze is determined and his lips are swollen, his calloused hand rubbing up against your soft skin.

“You’re wrong. I care. I care so fucking much about you that I don’t want you to run anymore. Aren’t you tired, angel? Of running. Of never being able to make allies. Of always being alone, never being able to settle down?”

You’re silent as he sighs, wishing he could read your mind.

“Angel-”

“(Y/n). My name is (Y/n).”

He softens at the mention of your name.

“(Y/n)... please, come with me.”

There’s a million different things you want to say, but all you can think about is that he smells like fresh laundry and lavender, and his skin is right against yours. You want to say yes.

“I need a night to think about it.” you mutter. To your surprise (and somewhat dismay) he wholeheartedly agrees, and pleads with you to allow him to follow you back to your house to spend the night. You can’t find the way to say “no” when he’s looking at you like that, the type of gaze that has you slammed against the wall of your bedroom an hour later with his jacket and cellphone tossed hazardously in the corner of your room.

“Is this okay?” he’s asking as he’s already pinning you down onto the mattress, layers being shedded faster than he’s speaking. You nod, bringing him back down for another kiss.

“One night to think about it, yeah?” he whispers against your lips, and the guilt starts settling in. But it’s replaced by a fire when his hands start wandering lower and you nod.

“Right. One night.”

Any sort of remorse or doubt you have dissipates into thin air, lost in ecstasy.

“Peter.”

After disabling his tracker and disappearing from any communications with the team for a whole 24 hours, Peter suddenly shows up back at Stark Tower, his eyes glazed over in a sickly pink hue as he stares down at Tony. It takes Sam dousing a cold bucket of water over Peter’s head to get him to snap out of his trance, his irises returning to their original hazel colour as he stands up straight, caught off guard by the sudden cold.

“Peter, you okay? Where were you?” Steve interrogates, concerned.

“I…” he tries to tell them, but his memory is a pleasant blank. He remembers arriving to the party and having a drink, but that’s about it.

“Did she hurt you?” Bruce asks, gently examining Peter’s head for any injuries.

“Who?”

They all look at him as if he’s crazy.

“You know? The killer? The one who seduces men with her eyes, the same person we’ve been trying to catch the past three weeks?”

Peter’s confusion just doubles and this elicits a quiet argument between the group, but one that Peter can’t force himself to listen to as he feels a strange sensation in his chest. There’s an odd ache in his chest that he can’t quite place, a type of dread that’s similar to the feeling of forgetting something important, but he can’t remember why. He shifts uncomfortably in his place before licking his lips as a reflex, tasting the remnants of last night.

His lips tasted sweet. Frowning, he dabs his lips with his finger, feeling the sticky residue.

Huh.

There’s something missing but he can’t find it in his mind, no matter how hard he’s forcing himself to think back.

All he tastes is peaches.

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a/n: :( :( I KNOW I KNOW the ending isn’t happy but to me it felt like the best way to end it. Please take a few seconds to like/reblog/comment/inbox me if you enjoyed it! It’ll mean so much to me.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker one-shot #peter parker oneshot #spiderman x reader #avengers x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #a repost since tumblr sucks at tags

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cherryliqueurkinks · 3 years

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˗ˏˋ betty smut ideas: canon-inspired edition ˎˊ˗

please note: there are many DUBCON/NONCON elements in the list below! proceed with caution if you are sensitive to those kinks or similarly hard kinks.

A little while ago, I did a Betty-centric exchange with @kagszzy and @riverdaledreaming where we took a canon subplot or scene and put a smutty spin on it! I shared a list of ideas with them that I’ve been adding to throughout the seasons and I realized I should’ve shared this with everyone else a long time ago, because it’s not as if I could possible get to everything on here! So if you’re a Betty-lover like us and need some kinky ideas to play with, I hope these inspire some new smut!

season one

the game of spin-the-bottle at Cheryl’s party is a kinky one and the bottle lands on Betty instead of Veronica

Betty and Cheryl hang out in Betty’s room and Betty asks Cheryl to teach her how to be good with guys

Betty actually wants to be a bad girl when she approaches Chuck and they fuck (or, alternatively, he knows Betty is trying to play him and drugs her instead)

Betty gets carried away in her “Dark Betty” persona with Chuck and they end up fucking in the hot tub

Betty fucks one of the workers or guards at The Sisters of Quiet Mercy to let her see Polly without alerting Alice as instructed (maybe as a one-time deal or as a regular thing for Betty to continue to see Polly)

Betty asks FP to use his Serpent connections to find a safe place for Polly to stay escaping from The Sisters of Quiet Mercy, and her fucks Betty as form of “payment” for his help

Betty goes to the trailer alone to ask FP about Jason’s death and FP fucks her in exchange for answer (or alternatively, as “punishment” for being nosy or as a way to distract her from continuing to interrogate him)

Betty convinces FP to help her with Jughead’s birthday party

FP “comforts” Betty after her fight with Jughead at his birthday party

Betty goes to the trailer after Jughead ran off from homecoming to talk to him but finds FP there instead (maybe he takes advantage of her being distraught about Jughead, or alternatively, of her being angry that Jughead ran off)

season two

Betty agrees to be in someone’s service in exchange for their help in saving Pop’s from closing after Fred’s shooting (maybe an original character, or she meets Hiram Lodge before she knows he’s Veronica’s father)

Betty bribes the Greendale police to learn details on Ms. Grundy’s death to see if her shooter could also be Fred’s shooter

Betty catches one of the drug deals discreetly being run by the Serpents during Retro Night at Pop’s and confronts them

The Black Hood visits Betty in person rather than calls her and says that he’ll stop killing as long as she keeps fucking him (maybe he also makes her wear sex toys to control her during the day)

The Black Hood kidnaps Betty when he lures her to the isolated house near Fox Forest to put on his mask

Archie and Jughead aren’t in the Ghoulies den when Veronica and Betty sneak in and the Ghoulies have their fun with them

Betty joins Veronica when she sleeps over at Kevin’s house and is the one caught snooping by Sheriff Keller

Sheriff Keller catches Betty sneaking into his home and searching his office and decides to punish her himself rather than calling her parents

Sheriff Keller catches Betty and Veronica following him to the Shady Palm Motel and they learn that his secret is far more perverse than simply having an affair

Betty visits FP at the trailer after his release from prison to check on him and it leads to him fucking her for hours to release his sexual frustration

Betty convinces Toni to let her practice her Serpent Dance before FP’s party and some Serpents are at the bar to watch (maybe even also FP)

Betty stays at FP’s party after Jughead breaks up with her and the Serpents decide to “cheer her up” now that she’s officially one of them

Betty goes to Pickens Park alone instead of with Archie and The Black Hood fucks her (or alternatively, he makes Archie watch as punishment to “cleanse him of his sins” instead of being killed)

One of the clients at Chic’s hostel mistakes her as another “fantasy fulfiller” and drags her into one of the rooms to have his way with her

Betty becomes a camgirl

Hiram fucks Betty in revenge for letting Jughead publish an article shaming him in The Blue and Gold (or as a “warning” for her not to let it happen again)

Tall Boy kidnaps Betty and videos him fucking her as blackmail to drive Jughead and FP out of the Serpents so he could be in charge

Betty fucks Hiram in exchange for him buying the trailer park to prevent the Southside from getting evicted

FP secretly fucks Betty when she’s living at the trailer to avoid Chic (maybe he offers it as “distraction” from her troubles at home, or maybe she wants to “thank” him for letting her stay there)

Betty tries to convince Sweet Pea and Fangs to trust her so Jughead gets the Serpent vote for student body president

season three

Fred wants to give Betty an extra special thank you for giving up her summer to help Mary prepare for Archie’s trial (or alternatively, as a thank you for her fulfilling her promise to Archie to keep Fred company after Archie goes to juvie)

Dr. Glass decides to try some radical methods on Betty during their therapy sessions to get her to open up (or Dr. Glass can be substituted by Fred or FP being asked by Alice to help Betty deal with her trauma)

Jughead asks Sweet Pea (or Fangs, or both of them) to “distract” Betty from their mission to rescue Hot Dog from the Ghoulies

Tom Keller figures out that Betty is investigating Gryphons & Gargoyles and takes matters into his own to convince Betty to stop

Betty is tasked with distracting the guards when the gang breaks Archie out of juvie

Sheriff Minetta takes drastic measures during his interrogation with Betty to get her to admit that she helped break Archie out of juvie

Hiram agrees to help Betty escape The Sisters of Quiet Mercy in exchange for being in his care instead

Hiram takes advantage of Betty while she’s high off of fizzle rocks at The Sisters of Quiet Mercy

Fangs (maybe with Sweet Pea and other Serpents) take their anger over Jughead’s “no crime” ruling out on Betty (or alternatively, they corner Betty without Jughead knowing and force her to convince him to change his mind)

Hiram takes advantage of Betty feeling angry and helpless after Alice “donates” all of Betty’s money to The Farm and he offers to provide for her in exchange for her service

Betty tries to see Hal in prison so he can prove that Alice forged his signature but the only way she can see him is through a conjugal visit

Betty takes the Jones’s offer for Betty to still live with them after they buy the house from Alice and FP takes advantage of the new arrangement

or alternatively, Hiram takes advantage of the fact that Betty is staying with them after Alice sells the house

Betty gives FP an extra special present for his 50th birthday party after everyone else has left

Edgar takes drastic measures to convince Betty to join The Farm

Betty asks Hiram to honor Hal’s request to be transferred to his prison and Hiram agrees to do it in exchange for “a favor”

season four

Betty and Charles are a lot closer than they let Jughead believe considering how much time they spend alone in the FBI office together

Betty helps out at the car wash to fundraise the gym renovations and one of the customers gets handsy with her while everyone else is on a break

FP and Betty find themselves alone together in their house more often than not and they take advantage of it (maybe Charles is also involved because Betty is trying to make a connection with her half-brother)

Charles wants to comfort Betty after being terrorized with prank phone calls by Polly on Halloween and they get carried away

Charles takes advantage of Betty’s vulnerability over having the serial killer gene and offers to help her control her darkness

Jughead is distracted with writing for a few hours during Betty’s visit to Stonewall and Bret takes advantage of it (maybe with Donna)

Betty tries to seduce and drug Bret like she did Chuck to get Bret to admit to Stonewall jumping Munroe

Betty is kidnapped by the Quill and Skull as part of an initiation or hazing ritual for Jughead as a new member

Mr. Honey is skeptical about Betty wanting to participate in the quiz show so Betty goes to extreme lengths to get his approval (or alternatively, Mr. Honey punishes Betty for cheating on the quiz show)

FP questions Betty alone about having Jughead’s phone after he’s gone missing and decides to try another means to get the truth out of her

Sweet Pea is the one hooking up with Betty in the bunker when Donna follows Betty into the forest and she stays to get proof that they’re only faking (or alternatively, it’s Reggie)

#prompt #prompt list #betty cooper smut #riverdale smut

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patchoulimademoiselle · 4 years

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Bat Shit Crazy (Part 1)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: language, sub/dom dynamic, large age gap, smut, choking kink, violence/fighting, injuries/blood, hypersexual reader, mentions of death?

Summary: Bucky is back from a mission he was sent on without you. He works hard to get you back on your routine.

Notes: This fic is dark, and it only gets darker. This is more Winter Soldier Bucky in terms of behavioral traits and dynamics with other characters. This is not a soft lovey dovey style fic, and if that bothers you DO NOT READ.

Masterlist

Part One:

The night is young, the summer air is humid, you've swapped out your jeans for a pair of fray end shorts, tennis shoes scuffing against the pavement as you shuffle your feet, waiting.

You've been craving a bit of freedom, some wind in your hair, something intoxicating in your system, and that led you right to Tony Stark. You batted your eyelashes the best you could, pretty please, can we borrow your car for the night? Honestly, you don't have a plan. All you know is that you feel suffocated sitting around on base. You feel old, tired, missing and craving the feeling of adrenaline in your veins.

So as soon as the jet returns to HQ, you're grabbing Bucky by the collar of his shirt and dragging him out to the sight of a bright orange Audi that makes him groan in disbelief. A knowing look graces his features, and he almost feels bad for the guy. Because if there's anything you're good at, it's getting your way, and Bucky had basically signed himself up for it. But Stark? He had no idea what you were truly capable of.

"I'm not going to ask how you managed to get it," He says, hand catching your waist and pulling you to stop before you can get inside, "But I am going to ask, where are we going?"

He's still in his tactical gear, a gun on his hip, dirt and blood smeared across his skin, he smells like gun powder and sweat, and you can't resist the urge to just kiss him. So you do, hands in his hair, pulling him down into a searing kiss that pulls a strangled sound from the back of his throat. He hasn't seen you in days, and he's more exhausted than he's used to being. But he can tell you're restless, the chaos in your bones convincing you to basically seduce Stark and take his car to do who knows what in the cover of night. He's just glad that you decided to bring him along.

"For a ride." Is all you offer, letting him hike your leg up around his waist. "I missed you."

"I know." His voice sounds wrecked, laced with exhaustion and arousal, and you almost feel bad for keeping him up even longer, because who knows what he just came back from. But you're too excited to turn back now, dangling the keys in front of his face, his grin just as wicked as yours as he kisses you one last time.

"I want to go first, you can drive on the way back."

When you get in the drivers seat and press the button to start the engine, you get why people collect cars like this. The feeling of power, the sense of danger, it's intoxicating, and you start to feel a little breathless when you rev the engine.

Bucky can see it click in your head, he can see the exact moment that you decide that this might be taking it too far.

There's a wicked glint in your eyes when you turn to look at him. "Oh," You laugh, "I've created a monster."

His eyebrows furrow, fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you away from the wheel, half bent over the console. "I would prefer it if you didn't get us both killed, so you take it easy, understand?" Because he knows. He knows you could say fuck it all just for the thrill of it.

You click your tongue, "You're no fun." You pout, watching as his eye twitches, a weakness, "But that's okay. I'm sure you'll figure out how to make it up to me."

He smiles at that, and you aren't sure if it's pride or love that has him grabbing your chin and forcing you to look in his eyes. You're a smart mouthed fool, and he knows that you probably got most of your attitude from him. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You can start with fucking me on every surface of this car before we give it back tomorrow morning."

He hums, kissing you once, twice, unable to pull away because he likes the look in your eyes, he likes that you're this comfortable with him, young and wild and trusting him not to judge you. It's harmless fun, he understands, the tedious schedule you follow everyday is eating away at your youth. So he indulges you, letting you put the windows down and drive just a little more recklessly than he should.

The shriek of laughter that comes from your throat is worth the risk, his hand gripping your thigh, watching as you change your grip on the steering wheel. The wind blows your hair, flushes your cheeks, and its a reflex more than anything else when he fishes his phone out to take a picture of you.

This is what you both live for. Moments like this where nothing else matters. You have each other, you've found a perfect medium between work and play, and it works out better than you could have ever imagined.

Keeping up with you is like pulling teeth sometimes, because Bucky just doesn't care as much as you do. He figured that you would be better suited with someone who is equally as high maintenance as you, someone like Tony Stark. The expensive taste and busy schedule could only be understood by someone who lives that lifestyle.

But behind the perfume and lip gloss, beneath the eyelash extensions and layers of designer clothing, chaos awaits. It makes you reckless.

You're hot headed, quick to pull a trigger and abuse your power before the chance can be taken from you. Steve had tried to train you first, but all attempts made to domesticate you failed, the restlessness within you wired deep within your bones, and so you were passed on to Bucky. Because there's a part of Bucky that craves chaos just like you do, the only difference is that he's learned to control it rather than have it control him. You were pushed right into his arms, and it was only a matter of time before he left and impression on you.

The devilment you shared made him putty in your hands. He saw himself in you, a pretty head plagued with torturous thoughts, a pretty girl ruined by this job, and so he trained you accordingly. He told you that there was a trick to it, that he never learned to tame the darkness within him, he just learned to suppress and channel it at the right time, finding constructive outlets rather than being a fucking brat all the time. He could actually handle you, and love hit you hard. You've been inseparable ever since.

Steve was concerned with how quickly your relationship developed, Tony called you both crazy, and Natasha, she may or may not be a bad influence on you. You're a killer, he's a killer, it's like you were made for each other.

But that part of you never went away, and it's times like these that it starts to become a test of his patience.

Eventually, you find yourself at a park, and Bucky is beyond confused when you park the car and actually turn it off. You meant it when you said you just wanted to go for a drive. It's too late to find anything open, he's too tired to go too far, and you would rather sit and star gaze with him rather than do anything to piss him off.

But first, he fucks you. Hard. On every surface, just like you asked. He pulls you over the console, flips your shirt up and presses your tits against the dash, fucking up into you with a strength that you realize you've missed these past three days. Then he gets out, an arm secured around your waist to hold you up as he rounds the car and places you on the hood, palms flat against the polished paint as he continues to fuck you.

It's obscene, your body caving under his weight, cheek pressed flat against the cool metal when he grips the back of your neck, arching you against him further. God, he missed you. You take him so well, always such a good girl for him, and he tells you that, lips pressed against your ear as he grinds his cock into you, and the only response you can give is a moan.

Then he's in the front seat, hands tight on your hips as you ride him, and you could have sworn the car seemed bigger until you found yourself in this position, back arched against the wheel so that you don't hit your head.

He forces you to look him in the eyes, grabbing your throat and tilting your head up, leaving you to find your own rhythm. The muscles in his arm strain at the restraint, because you slow down to a teasing pace, the look in his eyes becoming dangerous as you test his patience, and it doesn't take long for him to grab you up and turn you around, pushing the seat back as far as it goes and pounding you against the soft leather. He's relentless, hips slapping against your ass at a speed that your brain can't keep up with, and you're coming before your body has a chance to warn you.

He comes inside of you soon after, locking your body to his as if you'll disappear, and it makes you wonder what happened while he was gone.

You pull a bottle of liquor from the glove box, he pulls your shorts back up, and together you deposit your tired bodies on the swing set a few feet away. He tells you everything, sharing swigs of whiskey, eyes dancing between you and the night sky above you.

It was supposed to be recon, supposed to be a simple in and out. But Steve fucked up, stepped on a trip wire and gave them away. They had to fight their way out, didn't even get any intel besides the fact that whoever the fuck it was knew that they were coming. Or at least, they were expecting someone to come eventually.

It makes you wish you were there, because Steve wouldn't have been able to fuck up, it's you who goes out on those types of missions with Bucky. You two just work better together, something that maybe now Steve Rogers might finally come to understand. But you were told, more like ordered to sit this one out, and neither of you say it, but you both register at the same time that it was a mistake.

You drink more than you should, the bottle half empty by the time he decides to cut you off. But you don't let it ruin your fun, kicking your legs as hard as you can, the swing lifting higher than the bars that hold it, and for a moment it feels like you're flying before gravity takes over and yanks you back down. But Bucky doesn't let you jostle yourself around too much, arm reaching out to grab the chain of your swing, slowing your speed.

"We shouldn't stay out long." He says. "We need to get up early." You raise an eyebrow in question, he does the same. "Don't act brand new. You do this every time I leave. You fall off your routine and we have to work twice as hard for a couple days to get you back on it."

It makes you groan, makes him grab you by the arm and pull you to sit on his lap, kissing your cheek when you lean your head back against his shoulder.

You don't say anything, because there isn't anything else to say. He's back, he's here with you again and you couldn't ask for anything more than that.

But he seems to have too much on his mind, taking swig after swig until the bottle is empty and there's nothing left to distract him. "Don't do this again." He says. "I'll buy you a car if that's what you want, but don't you ever run to another man before coming to me." You aren't sure if this is an insecurity, or if he's simply being possessive, but either way you take too long to respond, his hands clamping down on your thighs in a grip that has you arching up off his lap to relieve the pressure. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes, fuck."

"Good." He kisses the corner of your mouth this time, smoothing his palms against your skin to soothe the ache he's caused. "Where did you get these shorts from?"

"College."

Your response raises a question in his head, how can you still fit them? But he realizes immediately that college was only a year ago for you, a harsh reminder of your age compared to his, and he simply hums in reply.

The air grows too cold for you to handle, shivering in his arms despite the warmth running through your veins, and he makes the call to wrap it up. But not before he kisses you first, turning you around on his lap and tugging you against his lips by a harsh grip in your hair. You don't get to have many moments like these, so you cherish it, kissing him as long as he needs you to, enjoying the chill that snakes up your spine when his hands round your ass and deposit under your thighs, hoisting you up.

He settles you in the passenger seat, eager for his turn at driving the car, and you could care less given your sudden exhaustion. You admire the way he looks, jaw clenched, muscles taught, arm flexing as he palms the steering wheel, a hand on your head rest as he glances back to reverse the car. His hair is loose for a change, framing his face and whipping back and forth each time he turns his head.

He could use a trim, but you know he'll never let you.

He doesn't lose his mind driving like you did, remaining at a reasonable speed, turning on the radio to keep his mind busy since you aren't doing much entertaining. He doesn't blame you, he's tired too, and you had been waiting up to greet him when he got back.

You start to doze off, the blur of lights and buildings putting your mind at ease. It's not until Bucky's hands are on you again that you realize you fell asleep, which is a bummer, because you won't have this car again come noon.

"I want you to get me pregnant in this car."

He snorts, ignoring your antics entirely, reaching over to unfasten your seatbelt.

He tries to carry you, but you don't let him, settling for holding his hand instead. The compound is quiet except for the sound of the tv on low in the common room, Clint passed out on the couch, the movie he had been watching probably long gone off by now.

It makes you smile, stopping to place a blanket on him. He doesn't move a muscle, and Bucky grows impatient waiting for you, so you carry on. In the privacy in your room, you step your way out of your shoes and kick them into the corner by the door, then you help him out of his gear.

You find a stab wound on his stomach, it's long stopped bleeding by now, not at all infected, and it's already starting to heal. He says nothing, your warm fingers brushing his skin and something domestic washes over you both. It's something soft and unspoken, something the lines of I'm glad your safe.

The tile on the floor is cold beneath your feet, you lead him into the bathroom and run a bath for him, despite his protests of you being too tired. You watch as the water turns milky with dirt and blood, fingertips against his scalp as you clean his hair. It's a side of you that he doesn't see too often, a softer side that you bury under attitude and attention seeking mischief, and at this point he doesn't know which version of you he appreciates more.

You lather a sponge with body wash, a cedar scent you learned to love on him, and you wash him gently, carefully, mindful of his bruising. His wet hands are on your face, pulling you in for an occasional kiss, and it seems that he just can't keep his hands off of you.

He fucks you again, but it's different this time, softer, slower, his eyes locked on yours, fingers gentle just like you were for him, and you feel it in your heart when he tells you he loves you. He fucks you to sleep and tucks you into bed, limbs tangled with yours to keep you close.

He'll never bring it up, but he wasn't sure if he would make it back to you this time. He sleeps better than he had in days knowing that you're close.

It makes getting you up in the next morning is hard. You're a heavy sleeper, something Bucky was always thankful for on nights where he struggled to settle beside you. But when it's time to wake you up, he curses your ability to still sleep soundly like a baby after all the things you've seen, he envies it. He wants to let you sleep in, he wants to stay in bed with you, holding you, because who knows if he'll ever be able to do it again.

But he has to keep things normal. He has to keep you on your routine, otherwise you'll give in to your madness.

You think you're dreaming it, his hands on your side, his lips on the side of your face. You just can't bring yourself to open your eyes, exhaustion keeping it's hold on you. But Bucky is determined, a bit rough as he tugs you to lay on your back, your eyes flying open at being jostled, and he doesn't look apologetic as he smiles down at you.

"Hey, peach." He kisses you quickly, leaving nothing to soothe you back to sleep. "Time to get up."

His voice is hoarse, you realize, he's tired, too tired for your liking, and you wonder how long he's been up.

"A few more minutes?" You pout, curling your body around his, and you can tell he's on the verge of saying yes. "Please?"

But his will is far too strong. "You need to get up." He says, "Now."

And just like that, you're pissed, a sour attitude shifting your expression entirely, and he could care less, standing up to give you room to move. You have a dull headache, a hangover no doubt, but you ignore it as you dig through your dresser for workout clothes to change into.

He shakes his head at you, sensing your attitude, but he doesn't say a word as you stomp your way over to the door, pulling it open hard enough to bang against the wall. It's okay, he knows what you need, and he's been itching to give it to you.

When it comes to training, Bucky tends to be harsher on you, because he knows you can take it. It's the textbook definition of tough love, pushing you beyond your limits to make you better. It's the kind of training that leaves you sore and exhausted and covered in bruises, busted lips, black eyes, you aren't new to any of it. In fact, you're used to the feeling, and that's something most people would find scary. But you need it to stay sane, a distraction from everything else. You like when he pushes you beyond your limits.

You warm up with a jog around the compound grounds, the sun hasn't come up yet, the air crisp and cool and burning your lungs with each inhale you take. He reminds you to breathe slowly, in your nose and out your mouth in pace with each foot fall. He quickly realizes that your endurance has fallen low, his hand on your back to push you to run faster.

He doesn't take it easy on you, not even when you collapse into the ground, your body forcing you to take a break from running.

"Get up."

Your lungs burn, your face is hot, your legs are jelly, you shake your head.

"Look at you, you can't even speak and you have to nerve to slack off." He glares down at you, hands on his hips. "Get the fuck up before I drag you across the concrete."

His threat is very real, so you struggle to rise back to your feet. He continues on, super soldier stamina has him not even breaking a sweat, and you curse the cheating serum coursing through his veins.

"You're cheating, you have an advantage." You pant, fingers barely catching his arm to try and keep up. "I can't go as fast as you for that long."

He slows just a little, your hand wrapping around his bicep. "Which is why I push you. Your muscles won't ever grow past the strain if you don't experience it." He says. "Shape up, we're almost done."

He allows you a five minute break, which you spend chugging as much water as he'll let you have, laying on the floor of the gym to try and catch your break and give your muscles a break.

He starts you on the treadmill, pushing up the incline every ten minutes, and you can feel the strain it's putting you under. You haven't done this in days, and the alcohol that remains in your system doesn't help. You're just thankful that no one else is in the gym to witness your struggle.

Next is ab workouts, he joins you for this one, side by side on the mat as he walks you through each exercise. He flies through them with ease, hardly breaking a sweat. But you on the other hand feel winded, muscles aching as you use them beyond what you have been. He watches, carefully, a knowing look on his face when you start to lose your speed, but he doesn't let you stop.

This is what you need. An outlet, something to exhaust your energy and take the edge off. For the most part it helps. But there's only so much he can do to keep you occupied, so when he has you here in the gym, he makes it count.

He has you on weights, which turns your body numb, and you aren't sure what kind of damage it's doing, but you know that you'll be sore for the next couple of days.

He lets you take a break after an hour, you drink as much water as you can, eager to be away from his scrutinizing gaze, and you find Natasha returning from a morning run with Steve. They look like they haven't done anything a all, but the smell of outside and sweat tells you otherwise.

Natasha has the nerve to smile at you, recognizing the winded look on your face, and she settles next to you in the kitchen, hand on her hip as she drinks from a water bottle.

"I tried to warn you," She says, "He's kicking your ass, isn't he?"

She did try, you'll give her the credit, knocking on your door every day he was gone to at least get you to come out for a jog. But you refused, anticipating this intensity, and while you'll never admit that to her, she assumes you enjoy the torture.

"It's embarrassing." You say. "Even after all this time, he can wipe the floor with me if he wanted to."

She laughs at that, a twinkle in her eye that hints at the history she shares with him. "Yeah. You and me both." Her smile is far from innocent. "But I'm sure you give him a run for his money."

Your grin is wicked, "You can bet your perky little ass I do."

Your relationship with Natasha is complicated. Sometimes she's the older sister you always wished you had. Other times she's the extravagant aunt who teaches you the life lessons your mother was too modest to. Then sometimes, it's hard to tell, she's just an attractive woman admiring another attractive woman, someone with experience gravitating to someone who doesn't, because it's in her nature to enjoy the power play. If you had to guess, Natasha would bend you over the counter if she had the opportunity, just like anyone else living here in the compound. But she respects your privacy, respects the strange relationship you have with a man who is just as deadly as she is, and settles for the mischief you create together instead.

It's fun to feed into it, you always had a knack for sticking your fingers into flames, and sometimes you hold it over Bucky's head. Like last night, you didn't tell him what you did to convince Tony to let you borrow his car, but it's implied in your nature. You tend to be a bit hyper sexual, another trait that sometimes proves to be a pain in the ass. But Bucky has something to handle that too, and sometimes, at times like this, he lets you off your tight leash.

"Who's ass is perky?" He had been watching, of course he had, and the look on Natasha's face tells you that she knew it too.

"Depends on who you ask." You quip, flashing him an innocent smile. "Yours is, mine is, and hers," You spare a glance at Natasha, "Well, you would know, wouldn't you?"

He rolls his eyes, because you already know the answer to what you're implying. Nothing ever happened between him an Natasha. If anything were to happen, it would have been long ago, before they had both reformed themselves into the people they are now. He told you that, confessed his entire life to you, so he knows this is just your way of trying to get him worked up.

"Don't drag me into this." Natasha waves a finger between you both. "Whatever this is, I want no part." Her eyes settle on you. "I also suggest you cool it, because I'm joining you, and I don't want to be forced around awkward sexual tension."

You look at Bucky, raising an eyebrow. He only shrugs. "Steve too." He says. "I figured you needed a change in pace, you're too used to me now, you could use a different perspective."

Your break is obviously over, Natasha follows you as you walk out of the kitchen. "Yeah," She says. "Perspective."

The mood changes drastically, all playfulness gone from her when you step on the sparing mat together. To put it simply, she kicks your ass. You put up a good fight though, you actually managed to make her bleed, but in the end, she's too on top of her training schedule for you to find a weakness. That's the point Bucky was trying to make to you. You know him and his tactics, you know how hard he hits, you know where he'll strike, all you have to do is avoid it and expect it. But with an opponent you've never faced before, you're far too weak at the moment to properly defend yourself.

The next time you hit the mat is your last, nose colliding with the floor, blood gushing, a grunt coming from you that actually manages to distract your boyfriend who stands feet away, sparing with Steve.

You pinch your nose like you've been taught, instantly feeling that it isn't broken, and Natasha has helped you up by the time Bucky makes his way over.

He's actually sweating, panting hard as he takes your chin in his hand, examining your face. "You'll be fine." He says, glancing at Natasha. He nods to her, and you aren't sure what it is, approval, dismissal? "Hit the showers." He says to you, "You're done for now."

For now, there will be more later after lunch you're sure. You leave with Natasha, who reminds you to keep your head tilted, her arm linked with yours as she walks with you to the infirmary. The nurse on duty clogs your nose with gauze, telling you what you already know. It's not broken, but it will be bruised, and after the bleeding stops you need to rinse your nose clear of the blood. Until then, breathe out your mouth, and be cautious of blood that may trickle to the back of your throat.

"Want to step out with me?" Natasha meets you back in the kitchen after you both shower, her hair dark and dripping, and for a moment you think she's kidding.

Your body is starting to bruise, knuckles scraped and angry, nose bloody. But she simply stares at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"Okay."

You take her Camero, she lets you drive, and it turns out it's just a grocery run. She wants to cook lunch, macaroni salad, and you both do a bit of personal shopping while you're out. After getting the ingredients, you both occupy the kitchen to make it. It doesn't take too long, but the serving size is large considering how many people will want to eat it.

Tony comes to find you in search of food, and he asks you about his car, a strange smell that he can't quite place. Liquor, sex, sweat? It could be anything, but you decide to play dumb instead, biting your tongue as you smile at him and suggest he go get it detailed.

While the macaroni chills in the fridge, Bucky comes to find you carrying fresh gauze and an alcohol wipe. He gives you his protein shake, chocolate flavored, and you sip from it eagerly. His hands are gentle as he pulls the blood soaked gauze from your nose and you take a deep breath, feeling the dried blood and soreness from the impact.

He applies pressure to the bridge of your nose, stopping when you wince, humming low in his throat as he leans down to kiss you. "It'll be a nasty bruise," He says, "But you deserve it, you fucking brat."

You imagine his opinion will change when the skin on your nose starts to discolor, but for now, he feels proud of himself. You let him have it.

He wipes your nose gently, hand on your throat to tilt your head back, he points the corners of the alcohol wipe and wipes the inside of your nose, eyebrows knit in concentration, and you take the opportunity to feel him up.

Your hands slide under his shirt, the skin is smooth where his stab wound was last night, and once again you're amazed by his abilities. "Did you have fun beating up someone other than me for once?"

His lip quirks up in a half smile, "Nah." He says. "It's not as satisfying."

You smile despite yourself, wrapping your arms around his waist. "What about you?" He asks. "Did you find anything interesting while your head was up Nat's ass?"

"Jealous?"

His grip on your throat shifts, "If I were, this would be a very different situation for you."

He knows you're his, there's nothing to argue, nothing to worry about, even if the entire compound wants to rearrange your guts. A pretty young thing like you, he doesn't blame them. But they wouldn't be able to handle you, you wouldn't enjoy it, and it would send you right back to him.

You both know it.

"You're so scary." You kiss him then, silencing whatever remark he had for you, eyes slipping closed as he tilts his head against yours, cautious of your nose. He tastes like chocolate, and sweat, slipping from your arms to take a shower.

When he returns, the salad has cooled enough to eat, and naturally, Clint already has a mouthful before anyone else can get their hands on it. He too has just returns from a workout, his sweats drenched, Bucky crinkles his nose, scowls at the amount of people occupying the kitchen and opts for lurking in the hall, watching as you portion out bowls for everyone, including him.

He's amazed at your cooking skills, the two of you tucked away out back with bowls of macaroni salad, enjoying the breeze in the shade. You beam at his praise, smiling over a mouthful of food, but it doesn't last long, his finger reaching out to poke your noise.

Don't look too proud of yourself, he says, this isn't approved in your diet plan.

Yeah well, screw him and the diet plan.

He makes you run after lunch, a water bottle in your hand because he isn't going to let you stop for breaks, the only water you can have is what you can hold.

It's cruel, the sun high in the sky and beating down on you with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe, let alone run. But you manage, a familiar exhaustion washing over you as you push your body for the third time today.

He makes you a protein shake, joins you for your second shower of the day, and then he drags you to bed.

"All your hard work means nothing if you don't give yourself a chance to recover." He whispers in your ear, lips pressed to your skin, his arm cold against your side when he spoons you. "I know you're tired, peach. You did good today, now rest."

It makes it all worth it, the torture of exercise, the agonizing exhaustion he puts you through. Getting to lay here like this, the comfort of his closeness, a vulnerability that only you have been allowed to see.

You turn, sealing your lips against his in a sloppy kiss, one that has no real effort behind it but has all the desperation in the world. It makes his grip tighten at your waist, his other hand slipping down to yank your panties to the side.

"Okay, you can sleep after this."

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Masterlist

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#bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter solider x reader #reader insert #avengers fanfic #avenger reader #dark fic #bucky smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #assassin reader #bad girl #avengers smut #natasha romanoff #clint barton #tony stark #Steve Rogers

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bouncyirwin · 4 years

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A Different Kind of Fic Rec

So ... you know how there’s good fic, and then there’s next tier fic? Like the kind that blow you out of this world? Ones that change you as a person?

Those are rare gems across different fandoms. They’re just a handful really, but they’re so dense you come out a different person once you finish reading them.

Without further ado ... my favourite next tier fics. Across different fandoms.

Kill Your Heroes || Naruto || 272,492 words || Ongoing It's time to stop waiting for other people to save you. A story about fear, resilience, and Sakura.

** If you love Sakura centric fics, drop everything you’re doing and read this

backslide || Naruto || 128,352 words || Complete Naruto’s friends are gone, his lover is dying, Konoha is destroyed, and Madara’s second return has pushed the entire world to the brink. Hunted and harried, Naruto is sent back in time to upend Madara’s plan before it even starts, and sets about changing everything. Butterfly effect nothing: the world is at stake, and Naruto is hardly about to let it fall to ruin once more. Not while he’s still breathing.

ANBU Legacy || Naruto || Ongoing ** Absolute Favourite of All Time Vol. 1 - Complete - 196,000 words Vol. 2 - Complete - 210,000 words Vol. 3 - Complete - 217,000 words Vol. 4 - Complete - 250,000 words Vol. 5 - Ongoing

ANBU Legacy is a collaborative serial novel based on the world of Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto. It follows an alternate timeline, taking place in a Konoha where the Yondaime defeated the Kyuubi — and lived. Set approximately four years after that event, Legacy is focused on the young men and women of ANBU, who took the vow to defend the Hokage and their village at all costs.

** If you love badass ANBU, team bonding, Kakashi Hatake, Gemna Shiranui, angst, All the Good Gay Shit, you NEED to read this.

A Twist In Time || Naruto || 247,537 words || Complete With Konoha on the verge of destruction, Sakura is sent on a last-resort mission to save her world by travelling to the past. Join her in coping with her old body's shortcomings, testing the natural laws of time, falling in love all over again, and rediscovering who she is. Time-travel. SasuSaku.

** Coming from someone who actually hates SS, this fic is. Mind. Blowing. It’s Sakura-centric and features AMAZING character growth. I think I’ve reread this one 5+ times waiting for updates.

The Lives Worth Saving || Naruto || 134,188 words || Abandoned Naruto, at 26, has lived through 10 years of war. At the end, with nothing left to call home, he sends himself back to the beginning, to the day of his younger self's graduation, in an attempt to change it all. Time travel AU.

** That this fic is abandoned is an absolute tragedy, but it doesn’t stop me from rereading it endlessly.

House of Crows || Naruto || 400,508 words || Complete KakaSaku. War is coming to Konoha and Sakura is far from home, uncertain of her future. But one thing is for sure, Sakura will protect her unborn child at all costs, whether it be from Konoha's enemies... or from its own father.

** This fic is so powerful it sent me into actual depression for like 2 weeks lmao

Pulling My Weight || Naruto || 375,630 words || Ongoing During the mission to Wave, Sakura realises that she has to become a better ninja for her teammates' sake and be someone they can depend on. She vows to take her training seriously, and receives help from the most unlikely of sources; Genma Shiranui. The two form an unlikely bond and stick together through thick and thin, while Sakura improves and meets other people along the way.

** So, so entertaining, but above all so satisfying. I must’ve reread this one 4 or 5 times while waiting for updates.

Will of Fire || Naruto || 223,234 words || Complete Forced to flee their village and the new regime, the loyal shinobi of Konoha must find a way to preserve their way of life and take back their home. As they fight for their future, Team Seven struggles to overcome the past. KakaSaku

Once More, With Feeling || Naruto || 127,462 words || Complete Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.

** I read this one a very long time ago but it resonated so deeply (despite being in first person)

Stripped Bare || Naruto || 295,128 words || Complete When Sakura wanted a change of pace, she hadn't expected THIS! Now she's on a mission with Kakashi, masquerading as a dancer at a club far away from home and she finds herself forced to explore her own powers of sexuality and seduction. KakaSaku LEMON

** so IMPACTFUL. This is not a light read by any measure.

Double Edged || Naruto || 347,047 words || Complete Seduction is like a double edged sword. You never know when you'll go from being the seducer to being the seduced. KakaSaku

The Window || Naruto || 165,171 words || Complete Kakasaku Sakura always wanted to see Kakashi unmasked. This was a bit much though...

to memory now I can’t recall || MCU || 102,600 words || Complete While on a mission storming a HYDRA facility, James Buchanan Barnes touches one of the many strange alien devices collected by the Red Skull. He does this, in fact, twice— in the past, and in the future.

Next thing he knows, Bucky Barnes is opening his eyes in the 21st century, which is full of great gadgets and coffee, and at least includes his old pal Steve. (And, inexplicably, a different Stark.) Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier finds himself in the middle of World War Two, helping Captain America hunt down HYDRA (which is at least familiar), pretending to be Bucky Barnes (which is not), and figuring out the very noisy group of soldiers who call themselves the Howling Commandos.

** GOOD SHIT, my dudes. I’ve lose count of how many times I’ve read this once. Definitely more than four times.

The Twice-Told Tale || MCU || 15,789 words || Complete For someone he'd hero-worshipped for so long, Steve Rogers in the flesh is a pretty big disappointment. For one thing, he keeps looking at Tony as though he reminds him of someone else, and even if he never says anything, Tony's pretty sure it's his father. A lifetime of not measuring up to Howard's expectations is more than enough, thank you very much, and he's certainly not going to make an effort to live up to any of Steve's. Steve's pretty clearly failed to live up to his expectations, in any case, and that's not hypocritical at all.

** SUCH an entertaining read. I’ve read this one definitely more than 5+ times.

The Act of Creation Will Be Your Salvation || MCU || 84,678 words || Complete When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

** This fic will ruin you in the best ways. Worth many, many, many rereads.

The Third Option || MCU || 220,962 words || Complete Homecoming A/U.

Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves.

Simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on.

And that’s when things get complicated.

** If you love angst, this is the one for you. Also worth many rereads.

Anew. || MCU || 130,298 words || Complete In death, there was no glory, no redemption, no salvation.

Only darkness and ice—or that was what Tony thought. He closed his eyes in a Siberian bunker and opened them again on his 41st birthday, with War Machine flying into the distance.

a study in scarlette || Case Closed || 214,688 words || Complete There are people who want to live forever, and then there is Shinichi, who just wants to live a little longer than this.

** One of like, my top 10 fics of all time across any fandom.

When Pandora’s Box Is Opened || Case Closed || 299,231 words || Complete After two long years as Conan, the time has finally come for the ancient battle to come to an end, and fate will determine whether the Silver Bullet will survive the shot, unless Shinichi can put his faith in the enemy that was destined to be his ally...

... Yeah I did this because I was bored oops

#fic rec #kakasaku #sasusaku #ironstrange #stony #stucky #naruto #MCU #Case Closed

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rose-demica · 4 years

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Prompt: If I'm going to hell I might as well enjoy it.

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Avengers

Series: The Rise of Thanos, The Fall of Loki,

Pairings: Clint Barton X Iris Coulson-Fury, Mentioned Thor/Jane,

Warnings: Heads up, my partner says that the implied sexual content can come across as non-consensual. This was not my intention, nor is it how I see this. It is, however, valid, and please be aware that it could be seen that way.

A little flashback to Iris and Clint’s past, with some fun truth or dare at the end.

His fingers twirled a knife around expertly, trying to figure out when everything had got so complicated, why he'd allowed himself to feel. Emotions he normally ignored and hid away crowding his large muscular frame, crippling him, he'd found his weakness. Blue-Grey eyes flickered around the building he had chosen for his vantage point. The top floor was still under construction, and completely devoid of human life. It was 2am on a Saturday morning, no one would be back until Monday, and he would be long gone by then. He'd set up the sniper rifle with ease, it wasn't his prefered weapon, but this task required more subtlety than he usually offered, the pay was worth his slight discomfort. The kill was ridiculously easy, the target far too comfortable in his position. The fool thought no one would dare to take him down. He'd expected all of this, what he hadn't expected was the olive toned goddess that greeted him when he turned around. He hadn't heard her sneak up behind him - he never did. Long slender fingers were resting on the pistol tucked into her thigh holster, the others tangling through her long honey-brown ringlets, twisting them out of her way. He knew this woman, she was a government agent, someone he should kill with no second thoughts, yet still he hesitated. Her body was laid out before him, her hands pulled above her head, bound there with the handcuffs he'd previously stolen from her. She was still unconscious from the blows he'd managed to land. She fought well, and normally handed him his arse on a silver platter, forcing him to improve, be better for their next encounter, he'd never expected to beat her. Not today, he wasn't ready, he wasn't strong enough.

His eyes scanned her body, tight black jeans hugged every deadly leg muscle, giving way to a button up shirt, it had popped open while they were fighting and he'd paid no mind to it then. Clearly she hadn't been expecting to be sent after him. His fingers twitched, longing to run across her rock solid abs, before gripping her hips. To be able to push her shirt further away to reveal more of the lacy black bra he could just see the bottom of. If she was standing, she would be the right height to tuck in under his chin nicely. He tightened his grip on the knife, stilling his actions as he tried to get a grip on the errand thoughts, his head shaking from side to side as though it would clear his mind. His gaze was drawn back to the fresh scarring on the inside of her left hip. Jagged lines that carved into her beautiful skin, it was raised and slightly paler than the rest of her skin. Torture, he'd hazard a guess, that'd be the only reason he'd have been able to beat her. She was already weakened, he'd been cheated of his victory. He gripped the knife in his hand harder, knuckles whitening, someone else had hurt her. His blood boiled, free hand curling into a fist, he'd hurt them more. How dare they touch her?! She was his! He shook his head, hand running through his hair. No, she wasn't his, she was the government's, sent here to kill him. His eyes scanned her again, the slow rise and fall of her chest with each breath he allowed her to have. He twirled the knife once more, leaning forward on his makeshift seat. He reached out with his free hand, calloused fingers running across the top of her jeans, tracing the scar. Her body tensed under his touch, his eyes immediately flickering up to her face, making sure she was still unconscious. With her next breath out the discomfort was gone, her body welcoming the gentle pressure from his fingertips. He wanted to follow the scar, see if there were any others littering her body, but he refrained. He needed her conscious permission first, if he saw any more he wouldn't be able to keep his tentative hold on his self-control. Her body laid out before him was nearly too much. He pulled his hand back, running it through his hair again, breathing deeply. A groan had his head flicking upwards, eyes locked on her heart shaped face as it started to move. She was regaining consciousness too soon, he hadn't decided what to do yet. His name, his real name fell from her all-so-kissable lips as she shifted, trying to get more comfortable. Her actions stumbled to a halt when she felt her hands catch on the pipe around her head. Golden eyes that haunted his every moment opened, looking up before they fell on him. He leant back, trying to seem nonchalant, the knife twirling around his fingers once more. Her eyes narrowed when she realized it was her knife that he was playing with. She scanned her over her body, noticing the lack of weapons and her open shirt. She shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable. "Why haven't you killed me?" She demanded, straining her arm muscles to pull herself into a sitting position, taking the weight of her torso off of her arms. A sigh passed her lips, shoulders rolling slightly before she did the same with her head, stretching sore muscles. "I won't give you any information, you know this. So do it and be done." She raised her chin defiantly, waiting for him to strike. He moved slowly, uncoiling himself from the chair he was leaning back in. He knelt over her, one of his knees either side of her legs, resting just enough weight on her lap to immobilize her so she couldn't attack him. He put one hand on her chin, pulling her gaze up to his as he rested the flat of the blade against her neck, just enough pressure to startle her. "Is this what you really want?" He hissed, tightening his hold on her chin as she tried to look away. Her golden eyes hardened as they locked onto his, anger filling their depths. "You don't want to know what I really want." She spat, her gaze faltering slightly, but she never looked away from him, refused to give anything else away. He released her face, but her eyes stayed locked on his even as his hand trailed down her side. Falling to rest on her hip, he refused to admit to himself how nice it felt to have her body pinned beneath his, the skin to skin contact, the fire she set alight in him that no one else could ever satisfy. He broke their gaze, leaning forward until his mouth was right by her ear, her felt her body tense beneath him, the knife in his hand steady. "Oh, I do darlin'." He drawled, knowing his southern accent would drive her crazy, it affected all the female's he'd tried to seduce. The simple southern country boy charm. He pulled the knife away, making sure he oozed grace and sensuality as he pressed a kiss to her temple, then her cheek. He nudged her head aside, laying kisses down her neck before pulling away altogether, pretending not to hear the quiet whine that escaped her gritted teeth. Ignoring the way her body arched as though to follow his, the rattle of handcuffs preventing her from moving further. Proof that she wanted him as much as he needed her. The knife forgotten beside her slender frame as he paced, a hand running through his short sandy-brown locks as he fought with himself. He wanted her, badly, bad enough to look over the fact she was a government agent, that she wanted him dead. He knew better, he did, but he couldn't help it, he needed her. He felt her golden gaze following him, a slight tilt to her head as she tried to figure out what was going on in his head, why he'd flip-flopped so suddenly. "Screw it. If I'm gonna go to hell, I might as well enjoy it." He growled, kneeling down beside her, his arm slipping around her waist and pulling her body up to his, his lips crashing down on hers. A shocked gasp left her mouth before she reciprocated his demanding advances.

~~~~~♥~~~~~♡~~~~~♥~~~~~

Iris laughed along with the rest of the Avengers at Natasha's recount of the Budapest mission. It was a total lie of course, not one of the stories matched up enough to be the truth, everyone's version wildly different from the others. Tucking herself further into Clint's side, her eyes falling shut as his arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Anyone want to play Truth or Dare?" Tony offered, breaking the silence as he moved to refill his glass, pouring her another juice while he was there. Iris took the drink with a whispered thanks. Steve raised an eyebrow at her, motioning to her drink choice. Of course the super soldier had noticed she wasn't drinking with the rest of them. Besides Clint, he was the only one still remotely sober. "What is this game you speak of?" Thor thundered, causing Jane to wince and flinch away from his side, before she leant closer to whisper the rules in his ear. "Ah! I wish to play this Midgardian game!" He decided, raising his glass of Asgardian mead in Tony's direction. "Alright then Point Break, truth or dare?" Tony responded, a smirk tugging at his lips when the god proclaimed he wished for a dare. "Wanna vanish?" Clint's voice in her ear distracted her from their friends, his lips pressing to the top of her head. She hummed an agreement, turning her head into his chest as Thor stood to begin his dare. "Hold up Thor. I have a question for Legolas and his girl before they disappear." Tony stopped everything, all eyes flicking to Iris and Clint. "Tony we're exhausted, perhaps another day." Iris protested, digging her fingers into Clint's hip as he shifted slightly, glaring into his chest as though it would hold him still. "You scared of one little question?" Tony taunted both agents, knowing full well that neither of them would be able to walk away from a threat. "Fine Stark, one question." Clint relented, lifting his bottle of beer to his lips. It was his first one of the night, and despite the fact that the party had lasted a good six hours it was still only half drunk. Clint was a careful drinker, scared that he would turn out like his father. "Who was your first?" Tony asked, leaning towards the couple. "First what Tony?" Tony rolled his eyes at her question, looking around the room at the various levels of confusion on his drunk friends faces. Only Natasha seemed to understand what he was implying. "You know-" Tony made a rude gesture with his hips, causing Steve to blush and look away, much to everyone's amusement. "Oh, that's easy. Clint, he's my first and only." Iris answered first, stretching up to press a kiss to Clint's cheek. The archer - having chosen that moment to take another sip, already prepared to hear another male's name fall from her lips, spat his drink back into the bottle, placing it on the coffee table to his left. "What!?" He demanded, removing her from his side and turning to face her, his hands gripping her arms. Ignoring Tony's conspiratorial 'ooh'. "You were my first and only sexual partner." Her golden eyes were locked on his steel blue as she repeated herself. Clint scanned her, looking for any sign she was lying before he swore loudly. "That means-" He swore again as he stood and started pacing, his hand running through his sandy-brown locks. "I'm an arsehole. Ri I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you." He fell to his knees before her, his hands in her lap. "Baby it's fi-" Iris reached out to cradle his face, but he pulled away, returning to pacing to the bar and back. "Don't you dare say it fine Ri. You deserve candles and flowers and penthouse suites in five star hotels and a nice dinner before hand with some sweet guy who'd treat you right. Not some horny jerk who couldn't keep it in his pants on the top floor of an-" "Shut up Barton." She stood, casting a glance to Natasha, who was trying to piece together a timeline from what she knew of the couple. "I wanted you just as badly as you wanted me. This is not on you." Iris forced herself to stand, taking a step towards her lover. "Not on me? Ri, you were tied up, you couldn't have stopped me if you tried." Clint stopped pacing, hiding his face in his hands as he called himself every horrible name he knew. "Kinky-" Tony interjected, but both agents ignored him once more. "Hey. It takes two to tango, and I'm not some helpless damsel in distress. There were multiple ways I could have stopped you if I wanted to, but I didn't. We both got what we needed, it's in the past, let it go." Iris pulled his hands away from his face, wrapping them around her waist instead, her own arms going up and around his neck. "I'll make it up to you. I pro-" He whispered, before she kissed him, cutting off any more words. A wolf whistle had Iris pulling away and tucking her head into Clint's neck. "So I take it she wasn't your first then Legolas?" Tony called, Clint shook his head with a laugh, moving his arms to lead Iris into the awaiting elevator. "My first was a tightrope act from my circus days, her name was Laura."

#marvel cinematic universe #Avengers #Fanfiction #my writing #Clint Barton #Iris Coulson-Fury #Party at Avengers Tower #clint x oc

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lovemesomerafael · 4 years

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Others Like Me Chapter 15: Confidences

Chapters 1-10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Chapter 14 Read It On AO3

Both Barnes and Bucky are off the medical floor after one day, and back to normal after a week.

It takes only a few days for Tony to replace the gym. It will be much longer than that before Tony stops complaining about having to replace the gym. He tells Barnes and Bucky that the new gym exists only because the other Avengers asked for it and need it, and that the next items they damage will be the last, because if they ever break anything in there again, so help him, blah, blah, blah.

The biggest change, however, is that after that, Bucky is no longer restricted to his cell. In fact, he’s moved into other quarters, real quarters, where he isn’t monitored and none of the walls is a transparent barrier. He’s still restricted as to where he can go in the tower, but his choices are much wider now and include the common areas of the residences and even the landing platform.

He knows this new freedom is Barnes’s doing. He also knows that neither Tony Stark nor Natasha Romanoff approve. For whatever reason, though, Tony has chosen not to use his authority to prohibit it.

Bucky doesn’t push it. Instead of trying to engage the team members, he waits for them to approach him. He hasn’t been invited to join any team meals, but that doesn’t mean he’s alone much. Sam, Clint, and Bruce have declared their belief that he is trustworthy, that he is who he says he is. They act accordingly. The four of them, usually along with Barnes, work out and have frequent meals together. They spend quite a bit of leisure time together, as well. Bucky’s told them about their counterparts in his universe, and they’ve confirmed that their lives are pretty much the same here, which gives Bucky a welcome, comfortable sense of familiarity. In fact, he’s becoming closer to them in this universe than he ever was in his. Than you ever bothered to be, he tells himself. In many ways, this feels like a second chance. A chance to get it right.

Still, he has a long way to go. Although Bucky is welcome in Bruce’s lab, both Tony and Barnes are blunt about the fact that, if he’s ever found in there alone, things will get ugly fast. The same is true of any of the places he’s still forbidden to go.

It hurts to be an outsider in this familiar setting, with these people he cares so much for. It especially hurts to be so close to Tony and Natasha again, but to have them openly mistrustful, even hostile sometimes. Bucky tries to be patient, to remind himself that they’re protecting themselves, and each other, as they should. He gives them all the slack he can. It helps to remember that he would do the same thing. In fact, he knows that he would be far more suspicious than these guys are. These Avengers never knew Hydra. Because they haven’t lived through the experiences that his Avengers have, they aren’t hard like he is. Like Steve was. Even Marya is hard, in her way. It’s a large part of the reason she still can’t believe he is who he is.

He doesn’t know what these Avengers will do if they decide he’s a threat. But knows that the team from his universe, including Marya, would kill him. They’d have to.

Bucky thinks that’s why Marya’s been so compliant with the restrictions on her ability to see him. Because he can see she’s struggling with them. She watches him. Although the Avengers make sure that he never gets too close to her, he feels her eyes on him constantly whenever they’re in the same room. Just as he’s entirely aware of her. And when she is allowed to talk to him - always with team members close by - she talks only to him. It’s everywhere in her body language and he can hear it in her voice: she wants to be closer to him. Only her loyalty to the team, and her deference to Stark’s and Barnes’s authority are holding her back. That, and her loyalty to the Sergeant Barnes she is in love with, whom she can’t be sure is the one now claiming to be him.

The new gym has some upgrades from the old. For one thing, the new equipment is even heavier-duty. Bucky thinks that might be a subtle fuck you from Tony, but he appreciates it anyway. He knows Barnes does, too. They both know the frustration of not being able to train full-out because no equipment can withstand the punishment an enhanced supersoldier can deliver. It’s nice to use a heavy bag that will actually survive an entire workout.

This morning, he and Barnes are side by side, punching and kicking at some new training dummies that are supposed to be the most durable ever made. It was a little hard, getting started, because they both kept laughing, thinking about how they’d destroyed the old ones during their calamitous sparring match, in what basically boiled down to a really strange version of jousting. One of the old dummies had ended up embedded in the ceiling, which Tony had threatened to leave there as a reminder of their bad behavior. The only reason he hadn’t was that they both wanted him to.

Jarvis is putting Barnes and Bucky through training drills, using a program that was designed especially for Steve and Barnes. Jarvis calls out the strikes they’re to deliver to the training dummies: crosses, uppercuts, roundhouse kicks, hook kicks... In this universe, both Steve and Barnes had been chosen for Project Rebirth, which means that they both had the same need for a training regimen that was simply not possible for an unenhanced person. This program delivers it. The serum Hydra gave Bucky and Marya was similar enough that both of them can do the program, too, although Bucky is working harder right now than Barnes is. Marya, as a woman, simply doesn’t have the strength the men do, but she has more stamina. She can’t destroy the training dummy as quickly, but she can keep going with the program longer.

Today, though, Marya is not training with Barnes and Bucky. At Barnes’s insistence, she’s across the gym with Clint, spotting one another as they do gymnastics. Which puts her behind Barnes and Bucky, so Barnes can’t see her greedily watching Bucky. But Clint can.

“C’mon, kid,” he complains. “Pay attention so I don’t fall on my pretty face.”

“I’m sorry, Clint. I’ll do better.”

Clint leans in and speaks sympathetically, too quietly for supersoldier hearing to pick up so far across the room. “You better. Barnes catches you ogling Bucky like that, he’s gonna forbid you to see him at all. You know that’s what Tony wants him to do.”

Little frown lines between Marya’s eyebrows deepen as she looks between the supersoldiers and Clint. “Actually, it’s not quite what you think. I was thinking that maybe I should spar with Bucky. My Sergeant and I used to spar; it could be a way to test whether it’s really him. I will recognize how he fights, things we taught each other.”

Clint raises an eyebrow. “You know, for an excuse, that’s not half bad.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“Sure it is,” Clint winks. “But I’m on your side. His side, too, for that matter. Let’s go talk to Barnes.”

“I don’t think so, Marya. Too dangerous,” Barnes says, toweling sweat from his hair.

“Don’t you think I can protect myself?”

“I know you can protect yourself. Not that kind of dangerous.”

Right on cue, Bucky watches that adorable stubborn look come over Marya’s face. “How, exactly, do you expect him to hypnotize me or seduce me or whatever, while I’m punching him and throwing him around?”

Barnes laughs, although he’s well aware she’s not exactly making a joke. “We’ve had this conversation.”

“C’mon, Barnes,” Clint urges. “Let them try it. What if she’s right? You said fighting with him is how you knew he was you. Maybe fighting is how she’ll be able to tell if he’s the right you.”

Barnes sighs in disgust, muttering, “When do I start having all this authority I was supposed to get as Captain America?”

“Good man!” Clint smiles hugely and claps him on the back.

“No talking,” Barnes growls at Bucky and Marya. “Just spar.”

“No talking?” Bucky mocks. “I never met anyone talks as much as you do during a fight. Well, one guy, but he’s just a kid.”

“Take it or leave it.”

“We’ll take it,” Marya announces, turning decisively toward the sparring mat as Bucky watches Barnes react to the “we”. Oof. Poor fucker.

Bucky follows her, more slowly, Clint and Barnes a few steps behind. They come to stand next to a padded wall, six feet or so from where Marya and Bucky square off.

“How do you wanna start?” Bucky asks, suddenly feeling a little awkward, although he’s looking forward to this. He takes a moment to re-wrap the low ponytail holding his hair back.

“Just start. Come at me.”

Bucky finishes with his hair, shrugs and, without warning, lunges at Marya. She jumps at the last instant, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing off, so that he ends up grabbing thin air, and she vaults over him, twisting to land behind him, facing him. Before he has a chance to catch himself and turn around, she’s on him, tripping him with a foot around his ankle and grabbing his right wrist as he falls, so that he lands face down with her on top of him, one knee on the mat, the other on the back of his neck, and his right arm twisted behind him.

Barnes and Clint grin. Bucky laughs out loud.

“That’s new!”

“Yes, it is,” she smiles. “Clint’s.”

She lets Bucky up and he salutes Clint. “Nice.”

“Again,” Barnes grunts.

This time, Bucky tells Marya to attack. She starts with a flying kick, but he catches her leg, pushing so that her momentum goes to the side. He’s just about to grab her around the middle when she uses the momentum from his push to twist out of his reach. She lands, briefly, and jumps toward him, throwing all of her weight against him and knocking him backward. While he’s off balance, she sweeps his feet out from under him. She’s on top of him as soon as he crashes to the floor, kneeling on his chest, her hands around his throat.

Clint and Barnes once again chuckle, but Marya isn’t smiling. She’s mad. She stands and moves away, not even helping Bucky up. When he’s standing, she says, “Really? If I wanted a sparring dummy, I’d use one.”

Clint and Barnes begin to laugh, but recognize quickly that she’s not trash talking, because her posture is angry, and Bucky looks sheepish.

“Sorry,” he says. “Forgot how much you hate someone taking it easy on you.”

That answer seems to satisfy her, and she nods in acceptance. Her frown lines disappear, although she doesn’t smile. In fact, she cocks her head and smirks a little as she says, “You said you want to prove you’re my Sergeant. So, prove it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky says, and it’s anybody’s guess whether he’s needling her back.

“I’m not worried about it,” she responds, and that is definitely a jab.

He starts moving, stalking really, and she goes into a defensive crouch, waiting to see what he’ll do. She circles as they get close to the wall, and he continues to simply come at her. Barnes knows what he’s doing, but apparently Marya doesn’t, because she goes for what she thinks is a surprise attack, crouching low and trying to get under his center of gravity so she can knock him off his feet. He simply catches her and stands up. The next thing she knows, he’s holding her by her torso, one arm across her hips and one across her chest. She’s upside-down, and can’t really do much of anything.

She tries kicking her legs, using her weight to pull herself out of his arms, but he’s much too strong. Her position is undignified as hell, and he’s laughing, so she does the only thing she can do.

She kicks him, hard, in the face.

It would work on a normal man, but Bucky’s enhanced, and he’s also no stranger to pain. A bloody nose isn’t such a big deal. He’d prefer not to have her do it again, though, so he lets go with one arm and wraps it around her thighs, falling to the mat as he twists her right-side-up, and ends up lying full-length on top of her. It knocks the breath out of her with a hard grunt, and she struggles beneath him, but there’s nothing she can do to escape. She can’t breathe, and he’s simply too heavy.

After lying there just long enough to make it clear that she’s pinned, he lifts some of his weight onto his arms so that she can breathe.

“You OK?”

“You’re… bleeding on… me,” she gasps.

“Whose fault is that?”

“No talking!” Barnes shouts, and moves in. He kneels down to help Marya sit up, although she grumbles that she can get up by herself.

Bucky just sits nearby, smiling and holding the hem of his T-shirt to his bloody nose. Clint steps over, grinning, and hands him a towel.

“Thanks, man,” Bucky grunts.

Marya turns toward him, frowning at his smile. His stomach does a little flip-flop. She’s never been a particularly gracious loser, and he’d forgotten how fucking cute it is.

“You wanna go again?” He asks.

“Yes!”

Barnes puts a hand on her shoulder. “Marya…”

“Captain, don’t baby me. I’m not the one who is bleeding, am I?”

Barnes shrugs and stands, extending a hand to help her up.

Bucky and Marya go back to the center of the mat, while Clint and Barnes resume their places by the wall. Marya looks crookedly at Bucky then, a calculating gleam in her eye. “Drax the Destroyer?”

For a moment, Bucky blinks stupidly. Then, just as Marya’s face begins to fall, his mind clicks onto what she’s talking about. He realizes it’s a test, and also realizes, joyfully, that he’s about to pass it. Bucky cocks his head. “You sure? You never could defend that.”

She likes that answer. “Try it now.”

He goes down to one knee and extends his right arm. She grins maliciously as she steps over to him, circling until she is behind him with her left arm around his neck, taking his wrist and gently moving his arm until it is twisted behind his back. He wraps his left hand around her arm.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Whenever you-“

And with that, he twists to his left, into her, taking his left hand from her arm at his neck and plunging it between them to encircle her left calf. The twist yanks his right arm from her grip and suddenly, instead of her holding his wrist, he’s holding hers. From there, he simply pushes to his feet and he’s holding her by her right arm and her left leg over his shoulder. For a moment, it seems as though he has her in a hold she can’t escape, and can either toss her to the floor or simply carry her away, whichever he chooses. But his victory is short-lived, because he gets careless, thinking she still can’t escape this hold.

He’s about to make fun of her when she yanks her wrist as hard as she can. He’s made the mistake of relaxing his arm, but he’s not so unaware that he doesn’t immediately clamp his hand harder around it. It doesn’t matter, though, because she’s pulled their arms up far enough that she can get her elbow over his head. Since she twists her body as she does it, she ends up hanging with all her weight at an angle that means he can’t keep hold of her in his left arm. Essentially, she’s snaked out of his hold and is suddenly standing, with his hand holding her wrist, and easily gets under him to throw him over her shoulder and to the floor.

She moves to run a few steps, thinking to turn and resume a defensive stance but his hand streaks out, whip-fast, and grabs her ankle. She falls forward. He scrambles to his hands and knees and frog-leaps to land on top of her, but she’s had time to flip over, so his chest meets her foot, her leg bent between them. She pushes him back and to the side, off of her, and rolls away. Again, she leaps to her feet and tries to put some distance between them. He kicks himself to standing in one move. She’s faster, but he’s taller with longer arms, so he catches her only a few feet away, before she has time to get far enough away to turn around and defend.

He doesn’t stop once he gets hold of her, but keeps his forward momentum going, with both arms wrapped tightly around her torso, continuing on until she’s pressed between him and the padded wall. It’s an easy matter to slide his arms up her body so that he catches her arms, and pins them above her head against the wall. His knee is between her legs, pressing against the wall, and again his weight is too much for her to push off and escape. He’s been around this particular block, his other foot is far enough back that she can’t stomp his instep or kick his calf hard enough to hurt. Much.

They’re breathing hard, he’s pressing his torso full-length against hers, and suddenly he doesn’t particularly want to move. Ever. He leans his head down to whisper in her ear.

“Give up?”

“Fuck you,” she spits, and tries every kick, twist, and bend she can think of. Nothing works.

That feels pretty good, too, so he just keeps her there, letting her wriggle around and try to break his hold or push him off of her. Or whatever else she wants to do, really, as long as he can keep his nose in her hair and breathe in the achingly familiar scent of her, feel her gasping underneath him again.

“How about now?” He asks after a minute, smiling now.

“You are a terrible winner,” she grunts, still struggling to find a way to free herself, but he can hear the smile in her voice.

“And you’re a terrible loser,” he purrs into her ear. “Which is why I let you win so much.”

She has the expected reaction to that, and he enjoys a few more minutes of feeling her writhing between him and the wall. He starts to be concerned that, in a minute, things are going to make Barnes even more unhappy about this than he already is.

She stops moving and lets out a frustrated “Aaaaugh!”

“Is that a ‘You win’?” He can’t resist murmuring that, low and soft.

“Yes, damn you.”

He lets her wrists go and steps back, but only far enough so that she can turn around. When she does, she’s smiling ear to ear. “You fight like him.”

“I am him,” he says smugly, moving back in so they are almost chest to chest.

She cocks her head, looking into his eyes with a delighted expression. “Then you won’t be surprised when you look down.”

When he does, he sees that she’s holding a rubber practice knife to his belly.

“You still fight dirty.”

She shrugs happily.

Suddenly, without any intention of doing it, he takes her into his arms and lifts her off her feet, laughing and twirling them around, away from the wall. She throws her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly and laughing just as hard.

“Knock it off!” Barnes’s voice cuts through the moment.

In three long strides, he’s standing between them as they spring apart. He’s scowling at both of them with barely-contained anger. “Go take a shower, Marya,” he snarls.

“Yes, Captain.”

As Marya backs away from them, Bucky sees cold reality slam back down on her. She’s no longer joyful. Instead, she’s looking at him with, if possible, even more fear than on the day he’d arrived here. He’s just come very close to putting something over on her, from which Barnes has narrowly saved her, and the idea terrifies her. That look, by itself, would probably have been devastating.

But Bucky’s not devastated. Not at all. Because that fear doesn’t cover the desire that is equally evident in her face. Barnes sees it, too. It’s the reason he’s so angry. This time, Bucky does recognize hope when he feels it.

Both Barnes and Bucky watch Marya until she’s made it all the way across the floor and out the door, with Clint on her heels.

As they disappear from sight, Barnes turns on Bucky. “You fucking prick,” he hisses.

“What’d I do?”

“You’re supposed to be me, right? You think I don’t recognize my own moves? I’m not gonna let you use her for whatever your game is. That’s the last time you see her.”

“I don’t have a game. You know that. That’s not what you’re upset about. You’re in love with her.”

“Shut the fuck up. I ain’t talkin’ to you about that.”

“Who better to talk about it with? I’m you, dude.”

Barnes gives an ugly laugh. “You’re clearly not me. She loves you.”

Oh.

“So she doesn’t…”

“I told you to shut the fuck up about it.” Barnes starts across the floor toward the locker room and Bucky falls in beside him.

“I’m sorry. That’s gotta hurt.”

“Fuck you.”

“So what’s the problem? Is it because of Steve?”

“No, genius, it isn’t because of Steve. It’s because of you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Marya loves some version of me who ain’t me, and I got no idea how I’m supposed to compete with myself. What even is that? Why wouldn’t that mean she can’t help but love me?” It’s clear it’s not even close to the first time Barnes has asked himself these questions.

Bucky tries to be gentle. “I think you know the answer to that, Ace.”

“Because she’s the most loyal woman who ever breathed? Yeah, I figured that out. Doesn’t mean it makes any sense. She knows she won’t ever get back to her universe. As far as she knows, her Sergeant is with Steve, and that’s where he belongs.”

“I don’t think that’s how she works.”

“Tell me about it,” Barnes sighs. They don’t say anything more until they reach the locker room entrance. “I don’t know, man. Maybe it’s for the best. Not sure I’m ever gonna get over Steve, anyway.”

Bucky claps a hand on Barnes’s shoulder.

“I’m actually kinda surprised you can,” Barnes continues. “Yours left you. That’s gotta be worse, in a way.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just… different. Least I know he’s alive. Probably happy. That matters to me, in the short intervals where I don’t wanna rip him into bloody shreds.”

Barnes actually laughs at that, heavy with emotion though the laugh is. “Shit, do I know that one. Never been one minute where I didn’t wanna punch his lights out and fuck him senseless at the same time.”

They reach out simultaneously to open lockers, and Bucky gives a low, lascivious laugh. Barnes looks over to see Bucky’s cocked eyebrow and evil grin, and grins conspiratorially back.

“Yeah, us too. You gotta be the only person who’d ever understand that.”

“Hot as hell, right?”

“Damn straight. We broke bones a few times; still fucked him into the mattress.”

“Same,” Bucky says, and they laugh quietly, both falling into similar pleasant memories.

*****

Late that evening, Bucky’s lying on the couch in his apartment, a book forgotten on his chest while he stares blindly at the ceiling, remembering the way Marya felt against him, the way she smelled. The way she looked at him when they were sparring. It’s almost painful, the constriction he feels in his chest as he remembers her deep brown eyes, dancing with mischief, and the feeling of utter joy that washed over him as he picked her up and felt her arms clasp him. It’s not sexual. OK, it’s totally sexual. But it’s so much broader and deeper than that. Bucky realizes, lying in this Stark Tower that isn’t Avengers Tower, that he is not the same man who left that other universe. That man didn’t care if he lived or died, because he was already pretty much dead, anyway.

But he’s alive now. He’s alive and he wants to be a part of this group of Avengers. He wants to care again, and have people care about him. He wants to fight again, to be part of protecting good people from bad ones. And he wants Marya.

He knows it’s her when he hears a knock at his door. He smiles. He doesn’t know whether she’s there to kiss him or kill him. He’d prefer kissing, of course, but he’s got time. For now, he’ll take either one.

When he opens the door, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that she’s calm and, although not exactly smiling, she isn’t looking at him like she had in the gym, either.

“Everything OK?” He asks.

“Yes. I just came because…” She hesitates. “I would like to ask you for something.”

“Of course.” Bucky moves aside, inviting her in, and his heart beats just a little faster when he sees her accept. When he indicates the couch in silent invitation, Marya takes a seat and he sits, too, turned toward her but not touching.

She begins quietly. “I would like you to tell me about my brothers and sisters. I know it may all be lies, but you said that they were well. I’ve decided that I want to hear stories about them being well, even if they are lies. I want to know about my true brother.” She looks up at him. “Will you tell me about Dmitriy?”

“Marya, of course I will. And it won’t be lies. I know you don’t believe that yet, but it just… feels like I should say it.”

She nods and her lips lift a little in a small, regretful smile. “If you are my Sergeant, I can’t imagine what it is like for you, that I doubt you.”

“Doesn’t feel good, that’s for sure. But I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“It is hard for me, too. Very hard.”

“I know. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, it’s smart to be careful. You and I know better than anyone here how smart that is. We knew Hydra.”

“Do you suppose they will ever stop spoiling our lives?”

Bucky shrugs philosophically. “They say the best revenge is living well. We gotta keep tryin’ to give them the finger by being happy.”

Marya gives him a real smile this time. “Yes. Let’s do that. And tell me about my brothers and sisters giving Hydra the finger, too.”

An hour later, Bucky has barely stopped talking. He’s told Marya all that he can think of about the progress the Troops have made on their Compound, and in learning to live in the world. It’s gratifying to see her laugh, and the love and joy shining on her face as she learns how well the Troops, her only family, are doing. She’s also cried a little, too. These are the people she was raised with, people with whom she endured slavery and torture, and for whom she willingly sacrificed her life. She misses them fiercely and constantly, knowing she will never see any of them again. She loves them so much that she can only express through tears her happiness that they’re truly living now, enjoying and making full use of their freedom.

“I am so grateful, Sergeant. I am so grateful to Mr. Stark, and to Dr. Banner and Natasha, and all of you. I want so much to see their Compound. To see my brothers and sisters living free, without having to be afraid, I would give a lot for that.”

Bucky doesn’t miss her calling him Sergeant. But even though it sends lightning shocks through every nerve in his body, he manages not to react. Not yet.

“It’s not perfect,” he tells her. They have bad memories, and guilt… They deal with all of the things you and I do. But they’re making a life. And you’d be so proud of Dmitriy.” Bucky smiles and begins to tell Marya stories about her brother’s life as leader of the Compound, many of which lovingly make fun of him, but most of which are very complimentary. Bucky’s deep affection for Dmitriy is obvious as he talks.

At one point, Marya narrows her eyes. “Did you and Dmitriy…”

Her question is answered immediately by the look on his face and the change in his posture.

“It didn’t go very far.” To Bucky’s relief, she doesn’t ask why. For many reasons, he doesn’t explain, either.

“Good. I would be very angry with you if you fell in love with my brother.”

“In my defense, you were dead.”

“As you can see, I am not dead. And it would make me very jealous.”

“You weren’t jealous of Steve,” Bucky prods.

“Of course I was jealous of Captain Rogers! I am a very jealous woman, Sergeant. I didn’t try to stand between you because he was the one you loved. But if you don’t think I was jealous, then you are a fool. Besides, Captain Rogers is not my brother.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry. Dmitriy is a very good friend, end of story.”

Bucky notices the second time Marya slips and calls him Sergeant. He’s surprised she can’t see how that affects him.

“Marya, can I ask you a personal question? There’s something I don’t get. Me and Barnes, we’re the same guy. And we’re the guy you were in love with in your universe. So why aren’t you and he…?”

“Captain Barnes is very important to me. I love him very much.”

“Do you… are you in love with him?”

Marya’s eyes go distant and a sadness creeps into her expression. “No. He was married to Captain Rogers when I arrived. It was right, and they were so happy... And then, when Captain Rogers was killed… For a while, we took turns staying with him, because he was so broken. We were afraid for him.”

“I notice he’s especially protective of you, too.”

“Yes, he is. I like it. And I thought, for a while, that maybe we could… But no.”

“Why not?”

“He is not my Sergeant.”

“But if you can never get back to your Sergeant, and you think your Sergeant is with Steve, anyway…?”

“I know, but Captain Barnes… is not my Sergeant. Anyway, he is worthy of more than being some sort of substitute.”

They simply sit there together for a while, thinking their own thoughts in silence.

“It’s difficult, this being in a different universe,” Marya muses. “Some things are exactly the same, and some things are very different. I get surprised by it, still, sometimes. And I miss everyone very much.”

“There are good things, though. Here, Tony and Natasha are still alive.”

“Yes, they are gone in your universe. And if that is my universe as well…”

Bucky hears a catch in Marya’s breath and looks to see tears welling in her eyes.

“I know,” he says quietly and, as naturally as breathing, puts an arm around her to hug her to him. They both stiffen for a moment, but she doesn’t move away.

“I know that my Mr. Stark would do what yours did. He was heroic, even though he pretended not to be.”

“He was a lot of things. Complex guy, Tony Stark. But yeah. When it came down to it...”

Marya nods. “I think Agent Romanoff would be proud of herself. I am sorry for Mr. Barton, though. I think her death must have been very hard on him.”

“So he’s Clint here and Mr. Barton there?”

She flicks a somewhat surprised look at him, but all she says is, “He will not let me call him Mr. Barton here. And Sam will not let me call him Mr. Wilson.”

“Didn’t in our universe, either,” Bucky notes, and again sees something in her eyes.

“No, he didn’t. Was Mr. Barton all right, after Agent Romanoff’s death?”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to see it, Marya. Guy was heartbroken. Barely said three words to any of us after that. We were all glad he had his family to go home to, ‘cause the life just went out of him.”

“I’m sorry for that. I hope he is happy now.”

“I don’t know that he’s happy. Not yet. He doesn’t communicate with us, but Laura, his wife, sent word that he’s all right.”

“So much loss,” Marya whispers, then turns to look up into Bucky’s face. “No wonder you are so sad.”

“I’m not sad,” Bucky tells her, and his voice has gone as quiet as hers. “Not anymore. Not really.”

They look at each other for a long time, sitting next to one another with his arm still laid loosely across her shoulders. Marya sits up a little to move closer so that she can study his face. She’s frowning as she touches his forehead, running a fingertip lightly up and down the frown lines between his eyebrows. “You still look sad. And so tired. I can see that you have been miserable. That hurts me. I don’t want you to be sad.”

“No matter who I am?” He teases softly.

“I know that you are James Barnes. That is enough. Captain Barnes is not my Sergeant, but his unhappiness hurts me, too. I do not want there to be pain in that beautiful face.” She lays her hand full on his cheek, looking into his eyes.

“I wish you could believe that I’m your Sergeant. I wish I could help you believe that.”

“I do, too.” Marya’s breath catches again. “I want him with me. I miss him so much.”

Wanting to lighten the mood, Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “You have two of us right here, Marya. Gotta tell ya’, wanting another one, that seems kind of greedy.”

Marya doesn’t laugh. If anything, she’s closer to tears. “A room full would not be enough. I don’t just want any Sergeant Barnes. I want him. I want mine.”

“You got me, sweetheart,” Bucky assures her, pulling her closer. “I’m right here. I wish you could believe that. I don’t like to see you hurting, either.”

“I should know whether you are him or not! I thought that, no matter what, I would just feel it.”

“Well, you are right here in my arms. You can’t stay away from me, even though you’re under direct orders not to come here.”

“Yes, but that is just because I don’t know.”

“Is it?” Bucky asks, tipping her face up with a finger. “Or is it because you do know?”

Marya freezes, looking up into his eyes. There’s a flicker of fear in her gaze.

Bucky takes her hand, and she lets him. He lifts it to his lips, and softly kisses the tops of her fingers. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I’ll wait until you’re sure, no matter how long it takes. I love you, Marya.”

Her deep brown eyes bore into his, searching the blue depths as though the answer is there, if she can only find it. She’s conflicted, that’s clear. The longing that he first heard in her voice the day he arrived, and that he’s been able to see on her face in unguarded moments since, is undisguised in this moment. Right now, alone together with his arm around her, she’s letting him see it, communicating it to him rather than trying to hide it. Asking him to help her give in to it.

Bucky tightens his arm around her, pulling her closer as he leans in, making it clear that he intends to kiss her. Marya tilts her head and he sees her close her eyes just before he does. His lips are so close to hers that he imagines he can already feel the warmth of them when she suddenly sucks in her breath and backs away.

“No, I can’t…” she gasps, pushing against his chest as, quickly and unsteadily, she gets to her feet.

“Please, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have…” Bucky reaches out an arm to her. “Marya, I promise, I won’t do that again. Just don’t leave. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, stumbling ungracefully to the door. He rises but she’s already got the door open and is rushing out before he reaches it. He can hear her ragged breathing as she goes.

Fuck.

Bucky stares down the empty hallway long after she’s turned the corner. He wants to howl and punch his fist through a few brick walls. Partly to vent his frustration, and partly to punish himself. He should never have pushed her like that! He can only imagine how he’s fucking with her carefully rebuilt life here, how upset she must be right this minute, after his selfish, clumsy, ham-fisted attempt to kiss her.

Then again.

She called him Sergeant at least twice tonight. When she talked about her Sergeant Barnes, she called him “you”. All night, whether or not she knows it or is ready to accept it, she’s been talking to him as though he’s the real Bucky. Her Sergeant.

#the avengers #Captain America #Bucky Barnes #Tony Stark #Natasha Romanoff #Clint Barton #Sam Wilson #Bruce Banner #Sebastian Stan #Robert Downey Jr.

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 5 years

Text

Those Comics | Chapter three

Marvel/Dc crossover x reader Warnings: None, I think I’m safe for this one Word count: 2342 Summary: Now that the seriousness of the situation is clear, you’ll have to face some rather inconvenient truths Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | You’re here |

The mood in the Watchtower-meeting-room was pretty down. The universe-native heroes were standing around a holographic-table (the bat-boys who you liked much more than the big heroes stayed in Gotham after they told Bruce to take you with them to the Watchtower) looking at some scientific-graphs and occasionally looked over to you. You had serious flashbacks to the time you first became an Avenger. At the start, before you earned their trusted, they also excluded you and looked at you like you could jump up and scream "Hail, Hydra" at any given moment. The only difference was, that you didn't really care back then as much as you do now, since, y'know, YOU WERE STILL IN YOUR OWN UNIVERSE. A long Sigh escaped you and you slid down the wall of the room, where you were standing at. And so, sitting on the floor with your knees under your shin, the reality of the situation dawned on you. You were trapped in a different Universe, with people who don't trust you as far as they could throw you, which could seemingly soon collapse into nothingness, with no idea how to go back or how to at least say good-bye to your family. You felt the tears dwell up, but fought them to the best of your Abilities. You were the one who held the others when they cried or needed stability. You were the stable part, you couldn't break down. Not now, not ever. A deep breath later, you shook your head and jumped up again. "Sooo? You wanna include the scientist from another Universe who may or may not know more than you about the situation?" you asked cheekily, winking at Batman. "No," he grunted and turned the Holographic-desk off. A huff left you, you rolled your eyes and glitched over to the window, enjoying the great sight of Earth in front of you. "I understand that you don't trust me," you said, your voice deeper and not as happy as usual. "To be honest, I wouldn't trust me too. Hell," you chuckled, "I worked with Loki oft enough to have doubts on everyone." You looked at your own reflection, tracing your features and wondering just how much you've changed since you started this superhero-life. "I understand that your priority lies on your earth and your people, but you have to understand that I have my priorities too," now you looked behind over your shoulder, "And if we can't find a way to fulfill both of them, I'll have to work alone." "We can't let you stroll around on our earth, you do not belong here," Diana said, her voice was like honey and you enjoyed hearing it more than you would have expected, but you couldn't help but notice the undertone, slightly threatening. You nodded slowly and hummed. "You're right. I don't belong here. That's why I want to get back to my Earth." "We understand that, believe us, and we assure you that we'll help you to get back to your Universe, but before, we'll have to take care of ours, okay?" Superman said and, even though you didn't really believe him completely, you were still a hero and decided that you'd gladly help them to fix their universe. "Fine," you sighed and nodded to the Holo-desk. "Can I have a look?" Batman was already trying to say no, but Green Arrow ignored him and activated it. It took you a few seconds to understand how that desk worked, since Tony's were almost completely automatic, but when you did, you were quick to look through all the pieces of information given (which were not many). After five minutes, you noticed something. "Here," you said pointing to the data of the energy that was all too familiar for you, it was the same energy measured back when Loki tried to take over New York. "This Data is basically the manifestation of a type of Gamma-radiation-energy that is pretty similar to one I already know. Back in my universe, it was first seen through two of the infinity stones, some of the most powerful items we know off when said stones were used to create a portal through space to start an Alien Invasion." You looked around to check if everyone was on track, but since no one looked too confused you just continued: "Well, to make a long story short, I think that's basically what's happening, just with this universe something from out of this universe..." you trailed off when you realized what that meant. "What?" Flash asked and you groaned. "Something from out of this universe opened a portal into this one. And with something...I mean me. I did that." Bruce pointed his finger at you angrily, "Does that mean you're destroying the shell?" "NO NO NO NO NO!" you exclaimed and glitched backwards. "Well, I'm afraid I'm the cause, but I'm not really the one doing it." "I'm not really getting it. I feel like I'm only hearing half a conversation," Green Lantern sight and leant back onto the wall. "Okay, okay, okay...gimme a Second," you said, teleported away and through the whole watchtower, searching for a Window that would not destroy the whole tower when it was gone. When you finally found it you teleported it out of its frame and both of you back into the meeting room. You placed the pane onto the table and held your hand out to Batman. "What?" he gruffed. "I need something sharp and pointy and what would be better for that then a Batarang?" "No," he said, but one look from wonder woman had him rolling his eyes under his cowl and give you one. "So," you said, gesturing to the pane, "imagine this is your universe and this," you gestured to the other side, "Is mine. The glass is the barrier." "Okay, I think I can follow until now," Flash nodded, giving you enough reason to continue. "Good. Well, I am the Batarang, and when I accidentally teleported here, that happened." You took the Batarang and rammed it cautiously into the glass, enough to make it crack but not enough to make it shatter. "So the outer shell is already broken?" Diana asked concerned. "Yes," you sighed, "but I can't tell you what will happen. Maybe it stays like that, but that would mean..." you directed your gaze back to the sight of the planet that looked so much like yours, "that I can't go back. Every nudge onto the shell would immediately destroy it." Batman sighed but did something that surprised you. He asked: "What would happen if you went back none the less? What would happen to our universe?" You bit you under-lip before, nudging the glass, causing it to break into pieces. "This. The barrier would be gone. Best case, The universes convergence and we'll have two versions of every planet that exists in both of our universes, but in the worst case, they merge and...uhm...it won't be pretty. The survival rate would be in the single digits." "That means we're safe as long as you don't go back to your universe?" Superman asked with pity in his voice. "Oh...no, sorry. You just have more time. I'm not the only one who can teleport through universes as far as I know and even if no one can or would, I can't tell how stable the shell is." "That means we have to find a way to fix it, right?" Green Arrow asked. You nodded, even though you had no idea how exactly you were going to find this way.

(A bit later, in the manor)

After an hour of searching for ways to fix the shell, Bruce exclaimed that it wouldn't help to exhaust all off you and decided that you would stay in the manor with him and the bat-kids, who all decided to stay for a while in order to help with the problem. Alfred (the saint) showed you the room you'd stay in and you realized just how tired you were, 'causing you to fall into bed and immediately fall asleep.

When you opened your eyes again, you noticed that you weren't in your room, nor in the room, Bruce gave you in the manor. In fact, when you looked around you, you found yourself flowing in a space that reminded you of a van Gogh painting. Surrounding you were different shades of blue yellow and black that merged into each other and made you feel dizzy. The next thing you noticed was, that you weren't wearing your clothes anymore. Now you were wearing a long green dress, it's fabric flowing down your body like a silent river, with golden ornaments on it. The realization of what this meant was hitting you like the pleasant warmth of cocoa on a cold winter day. A small smile formed on your lips and you turned around, searching your surrounding area for the man who you'd usually curse out for intruding your dream, even though you currently just wanted to hug him. "I see you missed me," his smooth, honey-like voice reached your ears and turned around yet again to see him smirking at you. "I wouldn't say it's missing you specifically," you said sarcastically but smiled widely nonetheless, "but that doesn't mean I'm less happy to see you Loki." Said god float nearer and took one of your hands in his, swirling you around him as if you were dancing. You knew not to fall for his gentle behaviour and his attempt to seduce you into trusting him. It wasn't the first time he did something like that, but you knew that fighting against it would only make him even more mischief-y than before, so you played along to get what you wanted. "Tell me, how exactly did you manage to hide your location from even my magic? No one has managed to find you yet. Are you going rough, darling?" You jerked back slightly, still getting swirled around by Loki's arm around the small of your back and his other hand in yours, your second arm resting around his neck, or rather shoulder since you tried to keep at least some modest rate of distance. "What? Of course not," you huffed, slightly worried that Loki could even consider that you could betray your family like that, but a few seconds later your face changed into one of confusion, "does that mean that you have no idea where I am right now?" It looked like it was causing him physical pain to admit that he had, indeed, no idea, but Loki still nodded slightly, before he even went so far to say it out loud, something you wouldn't have expected. "No one does. Your little hero friends and my brother are all throwing a fit because of you, they even went so far to invite me to their home, a horrible decision really, with the hope I could find you. This is my last attempted and if I don't wake up with some results, Captain I-don't-need-anyone is going to throw me right back to Jotunheim." Realizing just how worried Carol and the others would have to be, you leant your head against Lokis chest, missing the smirk that filled his expression. "I hoped they knew..That would've made this so much easier," you mumbled, staring in the distance lost. Now it was the mischiefs turn to bring some space between the both of you, by backing away enough to look down at you with raised eyebrows. "What would've made that easier, (Y/N)?" he asked with a tone that reminded you slightly of worry. "I'm not in this universe anymore," you said, looking down at the hem of your dress. "I know I'm great, but even I can't communicate with the dead through a normal dream spell," he huffed, clearly thinking you tried to make a foul out of him. "That's...That's not what I meant," you sighed, rolling your eyes at him, "I mean I'm quite literally not in your universe anymore, I'm in a different one and..." you freed yourself from Loki's grip and let your eyes wander through your dream-landscape, "I can't come back anymore."

(Somewhere else, around the same time)

It was dark outside and the only light source illuminating the spacious, modern office was the monitor of the top-of-the-line computer, the only sound was the clicking if the keyboard and the only smell the strong coffee standing on the desk. If you'd be standing outside of the office, looking in through the glass walls and door, you'd be able to make out the wide-build shoulders peer out behind the back of the chair, since the man they belonged to was so well-built. His muscular body and visible wealth would make most women (and not few men) swoon for him, but his aura and something in his eyes made you fear him and his simple presence. He was truly the personification of intimidating. The sound of heels hitting the shiny-flawless-floor announced the arrival of another person and the man didn't need to see her, to recognize his trusted assistant simply by the sound of her shoes. The keypad at the door beeped when the woman entered her passcode and the door automatically opened for her, so smooth that no sound was made. "We've located the source," the woman's voice broke the silence and her words, even though he expected them, filled the man with satisfaction, only for his smirk to be wiped from his face by her next ones. "The Justice league has arrived there before we were able to find out anything else and when our employees arrived, there was only a crater left and they couldn't further investigate since the property it landed on belongs to Bruce Wayne." The only sign that showed that the man was angered was his clenched fist, which almost immediately relaxed again. "Find a way to get more information on it. It's priority number one. All other projects that do not need any constant surveillance will be paused until I say so."

Taglist: @panda-duuu @empirialwolf @reallysparklychaos@scarecrowsragdoll @zofty15 @jason-todd-deserved-better@vanessafabricius @probsjosh @silentwhispofhope@rockyrocket15 @uguid @sirkekselord

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escapingreality1992 · 4 years

Text

Hoodies and Forever

Natasha x OC - Natasha is known for stealing everyone’s hoodies. She steals one of Erin’s to have her scent on her. After a stressful day, Nat invites Erin for a girls’ night. Erin likes Natasha and vice versa but Erin hasn’t had any experience dating women or seducing them. Nat teaches her a few things.

On a typical Saturday night, I found myself doing laundry; a movie on Netflix usually followed the night’s activities. That or sometimes I’d just want to curl up with a good book and read into the early morning despite training beginning at six in the morning per Captain Rogers’ orders.

I didn’t mind seeing as I got to see the world’s favorite redhead; Natasha Romanoff. My current crush at the precise moment. I loved the way her emerald eyes shone in the fluorescence of the room, relished in the way she moved when she fought; her partners varied from Steve to Bucky and of course her best friend Clint Barton. I was never lucky enough to train alongside her.

Fight with her, sure, but I still longed to spar with her. I longed to do “other” activities with her, but my experience with women was limited. Non-existent, actually. I hadn’t even been on a date with one let alone indulged in PDA or sex with one. I hadn’t expected to fall for Natasha, but surprise, surprise, I did.

I enjoyed her personality; tough, yet there was a softness, a vulnerability. She could be very nurturing if she wanted to be. Comforting, even. I say tough because she’s strong enough to not let enemies harm her or her “family”. She cared for those she had gotten to know throughout the years. To the world, she is Black Widow, a lethal assassin show saved the world from time to time. To the team of Avengers, she is simply Natasha, or Nat as we sometimes called her. She is the woman we all grew to love, me most of all. Not that she knew because I was too damn afraid of telling her.

I was afraid she’d reject me if she wasn’t interested. My fear was also that she wasn’t even into women, which could potentially kill me. I kept quiet because I didn’t know how she would view me if I confessed. While waiting for the laundry to get done, I sat in the living room, watching YouTube to keep myself entertained instead of cracking open a book I’d finish in one sitting and to not get frustrated having to put it down in between loads.

The others were out on the town, drinking or hanging out with each other. I got invited, of course, turning it down and sticking to my routine, especially since the clothes were piled into a mountain to my waist. That was three hours ago, and they still hadn’t returned, having too much fun without me. Now I was having regrets about turning the invitation down.

“Stupid laundry, stupid me sticking to a routine,” I mumbled to myself, clicking on yet another Book Tube video. I’d gotten into several creators who discussed books, seeking out recommendations since I through a lot of books myself.

“What did our clothes ever do to you?” a voice asked, making me jump as people walked through the front door. I turned to find Steve, Tony, Bucky, Clint, Thor and Natasha entering the compound.

Of course, they’d return while I complain over the chores, I thought.

“I mean, did they attack you while we were gone? It looked like they could with that huge mountain earlier,” Tony said, the source of who had spoken.

“Yes, Stark. They attacked me and it appeared I was no match for them. Would you like to take a stab at them?” I said, sarcasm dripping in my tone.

“Sheesh, you’d think someone who liked sticking to a routine would be nicer. Guess not,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Maybe if people actually started doing their own laundry, I wouldn’t have to spend all day doing it,” I said, a little bitter with his comment.

“But you do such a great job with it, Erin. I’d hate to stop you now,”

“Okay, that’s it. I’ll throw you in one of those baskets with the mountain of clothes. Let’s see how you like it,” I snapped, launching myself at Tony.

“Hey, easy now Erin. No need to take out your frustration out on him. He’s only messing around with you. He wanted to see how you would react,” Steve said, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me away from Tony, who had stumbled back a few paces.

“Sorry. It’s been a long day,” I grumbled, relaxing in Steve’s arms.

“How about we have a girls’ night tomorrow. It’ll be just the two of us. Does that sound okay to you? You can come over. We can have pizza and brownies. Maybe a little wine,” Natasha said, the rasp capturing my attention. Though most everyone had rooms at the compound, there were some that elected not to stay there often; Natasha, being one of them, living in an apartment near the compound.

“Sounds like fun,” I answered, giving her a small smile. While Natasha and I hung out, we mainly invited Wanda and Carol along for some fun too. It had been quite some time since we had spent time alone and I was excited to have her attention solely to myself.

“Perfect. I expect you over around 8. I’ll get the pizza if you bring the brownies and wine,”

“Deal. Is that my hoodie?” I said. I’d been too distracted by Tony’s comments I hadn’t noticed Nat’s outfit; a black tank top and brown leather pants with beige booties. Over the tank, I recognized a hoodie I frequently wore on her petite figure. It was a zip up black hoodie that was super soft and super warm. It wasn’t rare to see her in someone else’s hoodie. She was known to take everyone’s hoodie around the compound, not bothering to ask or too lazy to grab one of hers. I hadn’t expected her to pick one of mine to wear.

A red hue spread over her cheeks at my question.

“Yes, sorry. I realized I had forgotten a jacket and yours happened to be laying on the couch as I walked downstairs. I grabbed it without thinking. Here, you can have it back,” she said, shrugging it off.

“Keep it. It looks better on you anyway,” I told her, before it made itself past her elbows. She grinned, scooping it back on her shoulders, shifting her long, auburn hair to where it lay against the black plush material.

“Anyway…how many loads do you have left to do?” Tony asked, breaking the subtle tension in the room.

“Three. Are you offering to help?” I said.

“Sure. Go get some rest. You’ve earned it,” he replied. I took up his advice and said my goodnights to the other before heading up to my room for some needed rest.

The next night at approximately 7 p.m. I admired myself in the full-length mirror next to my dresser. I had slipped on a burgundy sweater dress that was off shoulder. It was accompanied by midnight black legging and thigh high black boots with four-inch stiletto heels. I was going to wear a black leather jacket over the dress so I wouldn’t freeze going outside, my dark, wavy tresses coming rest just past my breasts.

I did my makeup with a burgundy eyeshadow, winged black eyeliner that made my grey eyes stand out and a pink lip gloss, making my full lips be on display. I felt I was a sight to behold. I headed downstairs to grab the bottle of wine and homemade brownies, which tasted rich and usually had people going back for more.

As I rounded the corner to the elevator which would take me to the garage, a low whistle sounded out. Turning, I noticed Bucky staring at me, his blue eyes looking me up and down.

“Damn, doll. You look stunning. I’m not sure Natasha will be able to keep her panties on,” he said, meeting my eyes.

“Who said anything about seducing Natasha? Maybe I’d like to seduce you,” I stated, being flirty with him.

“I’m not sure it’s me you want to flirt with. Everyone knows you like her. Everyone but Natasha,” he said, giving me a knowing look, which cause heat to flare against my skin.

“Everyone?” he nodded. “My outfit’s not too much is it? I could change…”

“It’s perfect. Erin, for what it’s worth, I think she likes you too. Why do you think she stole your hoodie?” Bucky replied.

“She steals everyone’s hoodies. I wouldn’t blame her. They’re super comfortable,” I said, pressing the button to go down.

“Yours she took to have your scent on her. Good luck, Erin,” he stated as the elevator doors opened. Stepping in, I waited for three floors to drop, soaking in his words. I grabbed the keys to my trusty Honda and walked to where it was parked, climbing in and driving over to Natasha’s apartment.

“You’re telling me you haven’t walked in on any of the guys naked? Never?” Nat asked, incredulity in her voice.

“No, never. I’ve been lucky in that department so far,”

“But you live there. I would have thought you might have seen one of them naked,”

“Nope. It’s almost like they’re actively trying not to have that happen. The only thing I’ve witnessed is Thor without a shirt on, as well as Steve and Bucky. I don’t think Thor likes shirts. He probably wears them only when he has to,” I said, grabbing another brownie.

“Do you have a crush on any of them?” she asked me.

“No, though of all of them, I’d probably go for Bucky,” I said.

“Ah. You’ve got a thing for metal arms, I see,” she teased.

“No, he’s really sweet and he likes dancing, so that’s a plus,” I replied, earning a laugh from her.

“So, you like someone who can dance. I never would’ve guessed it,”

“I wonder if I’m an old soul in a young person’s body with all I like or do. Turns out I’m a sucker for slow dancing,” I stated.

“That’s not the worst thing in the world,” Natasha said, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. Silence filled the apartment; perhaps we were nervous…maybe I was. I wouldn’t have an insight on Natasha’s feelings because I wasn’t her.

Imagine the surprise I felt when she leaned in and kissed my lips. She tasted delicious, the sweetness from the wine and the brownies mixed well. I suppose my insecurities got the best of me as she pulled back.

“Natasha…” I said, not knowing what else to make of what happened.

“I’m sorry. Do you…Did I make a mistake? Do you not want this? Are you not attracted to me?” She said, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears.

“That’s not it. I want this. I want you. It’s just…I haven’t ever been with a woman,” I replied.

“Oh. That’s not a problem. I can work with that. So, you haven’t had sex-,”

“No, Natasha. I haven’t been with a woman. Sex or dating. I’m afraid I’m inexperienced on both parts,” I cut her off, glancing down at my hands, embarrassed.

“Erin, it’s okay. I can work with this. Lucky for you, I know a few things about seducing women and I’m sure dating shouldn’t be an issue,” Nat said, lifting my head up with a hand. She kissed me again, soft, gentle, almost as if asking permission to continue. I gave in, kissing her back even as she licked my lips for entrance to my mouth. My lips parted open to allow her tongue to slip in. She pulled herself closer, pushing off my leather jacket, showing off my shoulders. Moving her lips, she pressed her mouth to my neck, sucking on a spot; a soft moan escaped my lips.

She shifted our bodies to lie flat on the large couch. She tugged down the sleeves of my sweater dress to let it rest on my hips.

“Are you okay? Tell me if you want to stop,” she said.

“I’m fine. Don’t stop,”

“Alright. May I remove your bra?” she said, still cautious about my boundaries.

“Yes, you may take it off,” I assured her, lifting up so she could reach around and unclasp it. She pulled it from my chest, dropping it to the floor where my jacket lay. She traced a circle around one breast, the pad of her thumb toying with my nipple. I released a pleasurable sight at the touch, gasping when her mouth pressed against my chest. Her tongue made quick swiped over the nipple, one hand kneading the other breast. She repeated the same motions on the neglected breast trailing kisses to my belly button.

Natasha pulled the rest of the dress off, followed by the leggings and my panties; I was now fully naked before her. She spread my legs, her fingers approaching my center.

“Nat…” I said, looking down at her.

“Relax,” she told me, the sultry rasp sending tingles through my body, the domination in her tone arousing me. It was enough for me to spread wider for her; she stroked my folds and I let out a moan, which only increased in volume when she inserted a finger, then another, stretching me with a third. She pumped in and out slowly, increasing her pace as time went on.

My orgasm built, threatening to break until she removed her fingers, eliciting a whimper from me.

“Not yet. I want a taste,” she said, lowering her mouth to my core. The second her tongue licked me, I released a guttural moan, my thighs quivering, head back and I arched into her. She sucked and licked, my orgasm on edge. Until I couldn’t hold back anymore. The dam broke and Natasha took in all of it, cleaning me up before coming back up to kiss me.

“It’s my turn. Don’t worry. I’ll guide you,” she said, stripping down. She pulled me up and on top of her, kissing me, out tongues tangling together. I repeated the same things she’d done to my chest, her nails digging into my skin. She lifted one of hands and guided it to her thighs, spreading them and moving my fingers to the right spots.

I did my best to pleasure her, which appeared to be working as she moaned with each touch. I pushed her to the edge, removing my fingers and letting my mouth do the rest of the work. She came undone, a loud moan pouring out of her mouth. I kissed her when she finished and linked our hands.

“Not bad. Want to get more practice in the bedroom?” she said. I nodded and we walked down the hall to her room to play and kiss until the morning light, ending up in each other’s arms, my head on her chest, our legs entangled.

“Erin?” Natasha asked, stroking my hair.

“Hmm?”

“Is it too early to ask you to be my girlfriend? I’m aware we haven’t gone on a date, but I don’t want to lose the chance to claim you as mine,” she said.

“No, it’s not too early at all. We can go on our first date tomorrow night. For now, I want to cuddle,” I answered, burying myself as close I could.

“For how long?” she asked.

“Forever,” I said. Natasha kissed the top of my head and we both fell asleep, dreaming of a future where we’d never be apart.

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melypeira · 5 years

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“Cold Zone Lovers”

An illustrated fanfic by lilacmel

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Summary:

"Friends will take your silence and your hurts, Sharing and trading passions and joys, Even naughty pranks and flirts, But careful of green eyed beasts it annoys. Specially when dealing with oblivious blondies."

An illustrated fanfic, for an idea I had in my mind for a while. End game was disappointing and not enough gay, so this is my contribution for pride month ;3

Fic also on AO3 (easier to read, but I needed an place to image host).

archiveofourown.org/works/19376977/

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“This human called Jim is a simpleton.” Says one.

“You just don’t appreciate his effort trying to win over a lady.” Speaks two.

“Surely, that woman is arrogant and vain.” Replies back the haughty one.

“Like you, you mean.” Sassed in return the mellow other.

A serious man walks quietly thinking to himself, while searching for someone. Said man has a strong silhouette, one so popular in North America that couldn’t possibly be unrecognizable. Well, except maybe with a hat and glasses. Our dear Captain America, with dark blond hair and the shapes Kim Kardashian would be jealous of, according to Tony/IronMan, AKA also known as Steve Rogers, could not believe what he was hearing, much less seeing. Walking over to the ‘Big ol’ Popcorn Mess Hall’, name courtesy of the host, he saw the most unimaginable view he could possibly think of in his long but short years of life.

Two branded criminals, the notorious Winter Soldier, Hydra’s soldier with a mechanical arm - very sought after by certain woodland creatures - and notorious frost giant, norse god of mischief and all around “pain-in-the-ass” for the avengers. Together, in a sofa, eating popcorn, sat Bucky and Loki, talking and watching – the shock- a comedy movie. Stunned still by this in the hallway, our American hero retires, forgetting entirely what he wanted with his traumatized friend.

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“Thor, we need to take action, I don’t mind Loki returning anymore, but I don't care where they're from, I don't enjoy bullies” Steve Rogers declares out loud. His mighty friend is sometimes an excellent judge and leader, but he can be overprotective, thinks the golden haired norse god. Master of lightning, ale and, now, of a slightly round belly - blame the later - Thor Odinson doesn’t see the point the captain is making against his brother’s associations. He is generally is just glad to have gotten Loki back, with all his little mischievous acts and fake-deaths, after all.

“Loki is free to do what he wants, meaning all things which will not hurt the midgardians or the sanity of the avengers, such is the trust my brother and I have made” claims the Asgardian king, stroking his fashionable braided beard while whetting his axe. Maybe the other blonde should spend his time caring for the borrowed Mjölnir instead of spying on his frost friend, muses Thor.

“You don’t understand, Loki manipulates minds, with or without the stones. Bucky has been far too much brainwashed by those blasted octopus loving bastards” May those days never come again for his dear friend; the young aged soul contemplates. He doesn’t want the other going back to such harsh settings as freezing, to heal in Wakanda, away from him.

“My brother has a powerful silver-tongue, indeed, but comrade Bucky is a fierce warrior, he can fend for himself in such matters”. Thor says while putting his axe in its weapon stand, leaving his comfy armchair.

“Then let’s prove that conviction. Come with me”. Rogers declares, turning and opening the door. He finds Tony outside, who clearly had listened in through his cameras and came to “gossip the juicy bits, Steve”. Both the Son of Odin and the soldier ignore him. “I don’t see why the worries, I am kinda shipping this WinterFrost happening in my sofa” they can still hear nearing the end of the hallway near the elevator.

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“Hell, they are on the sequel today!” “How would you…nevermind, must be that little leatherless book of yours” Both blondes whisper to each other in the hallway, not very hidden as they think they are. Thor knew what Steve was saying, but watching was another thing altogether. It hit him hard how much he missed his comraderies with his brother, laughing and being “bitchy” as he heard Hawkeye saying. Seeing happening with the arm-armored brunette was jealousy-inducing.

Worse times were still to come, because this friendship became evident to other avengers, even the Wakandan people heard about it. The only ones not amused by the situation were still America's Golden Boy and now the Thunder God.

The interactions were everywhere, joking and pranks and even once in a while you could see Falcon/Sam joining with beers on the TV and Wanda sharing some wine and conversations on the bar with the two. That was only the eye of the storm, trouble was arriving at the horizon.

Then, flirting began. It was inevitable, Bucky has always been charming, Steve somewhat suspected gender didn’t matter to his friend - likewise for him - but why Loki of all of them was a mistery, even Wanda made more sense, seeing his usual type in the day. Thor meanwhile knew his brother enjoyed both the attention and the actual chasing game, often seducing and changing appearances for the sake of ‘a bit of fun’. He wondered what exactly in the scenario was bothering him, was it he missed his friends? Maybe Jane? The Snake-like sibling’s full attention. Or was it vanity, the feeling of being undesirable as he now is, missing his toned body looking at the brunette soldier.

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“Bucky, I know nobody is perfect, but the ‘safest hands are still our own’. So why are you playing right into Loki’s hands?" Calmly Rogers says, thought noticing his little slip, maybe Bucky didn’t even notice.

“Whadya mean pal? I wasn’t aware I was playing into something Steve, except maybe my games with Birdie Man” Bucky replies, somewhat confused but amused by his friend.

"I’m glad you’re back at the headquarters, and as much as I don’t like the idea of you isolating from others because of the past, I don’t think that bonding with Loki will help you at all. We all need family, I get it, but the Avengers could be yours, maybe more so than mine. They won’t judge you for your past” More fiercely, Steve declares.

“Wait a minute, hell Steve! Are you actually coming to me after all this mess, with we haven’t talked much about by the way, we are busy, I get it, to ‘order’ my friendships?? ‘Cause I might be unstable and lonely?” Finally understanding and somewhat angry, Bucky replies with a slightly raised voice.

“I never said that, but it’s for your own good. Loki is Thor’s brother but also a horrible being; in his mind we are all ‘dumb magic-less midgardians’ for him to play with” Harshly states the America Man.

“Are you sure? Have you asked or interacted with him? Besides the past? I was horrible to Tony’s parents too, wasn’t I?” Bucky unveils. “It’s different!!!” Struck back God's Righteous Man “Is it?”. With a somber look reminding of his Ghost days, whispers deadly the Winter Wolf, ready to pounce for flesh.

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Meanwhile, in a similar situation is the light blonde bearded god, with his frost sibling, on the rarely used garden.

“Mother would be disappointed in such an orchard” articulates the dark haired one, seeing his approaching sibling.

“Indeed” Concurs the peace invader. Silence reigns for a short while, the kind that is rare in this turbulent world. Still, even stillness needs to be broken eventually.

“Brother…I don’t know what scheme you…” “I don’t know what you are talking about Thor” “…but you need to stop it.” Urges strongly the slightly older one.

“May I remind you I am not a mind reader, much less know your mental monologue” Spats the younger adopted sibling.

“This obsession with the midgardian frozen warrior, I have seen it before. With Jane and many others” Claims the Asgard Golden child. “Obsession? Please! Why so worried, do you fancy him? Should I go tell Jane?” Scoffs the slick haired one.

“I don’t, but you are playing with him” The raging thunder is burning inside Thor’s veins now, with the theatrical antics of his fraternal old playmate. “I honestly thought it was quite mutual. Shame, woe is me. Tell me…do you enjoy spying on us Thor? Stealthy, you certainly are not.” The obsidian hair male talked as if in a play, long periods and sudden words, ending in a short haughty statement.

Giving no time for replies, he ignores the other’s angry sputtering and continues “Am I not allowed to have friends? Acquaintances? Relationships? You came here to stay with yours, to fight your silly battles with them, instead of staying with our kin-” Thor is momentarily happy to hear that part, but quickly gets angry again ”- and ruling, as you were supposed to be, as I am meant to be with you! Even leaving the invisible throne for Valkyrie to sit!!”

“I saw you smiling and I know…!” the axe-wielder loses his conviction midway, enough for Loki to take possession again of the discussion. The curly braided male should have known that in a battle of the tongues, the serpent hisses fast and non-stop. ‘Silence is golden’ indeed, ironically.

“OH, only mighty Thor can be happy! With his little annoying friends! OH NO, not his brother, that one should stay miserable and, in the shadows and shackles, were he belongs" Loki pacing around the room, with a flourish in his limbs, mocking and hissing. “‘Brother everything's gonna work out fine in Earth’ ’Brother, we will fight side by side forever’ indeed, how fickle you are” Loki rants, each time louder with more articulation and acerbic words.

“ENOUGH! It’s because I wish it was with me!!!” Already regretting what came out his mouth, Thor closes it suddenly and contains his mortification.

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Muahahaha cliffhanger.

If you enjoyed please give a like here or there or share this around. I may keep doing this depending on feedback.

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pitubea1910 · 5 years

Text

You can’t fix everything

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Words: 4k

Warning: angst

Tags: @fuckthatfeeling

Request: requested by anon:

“Hi again, it’s the same anon of the Tony Stark x reader. I totally get why you turn it down, actually I was expecting it (but it worth the try😉) So, could you write instead a one shot with the same pairing, nothing precise in mind but angsty pleaaaaase ?😁😍”

Note: feedback is appreciated, specially if you’re tagged ;)

MASTERLIST

It had been a long rainy day in the British capital. The fifth day in a row that you got home completely soaked because it looked like you couldn’t remember to take your umbrella with you. The moment you walked into your apartment, next to Regent’s Park, you sent a quick text to Tony letting him know you just got home and proceed to take a hot shower. You knew you were on the brink of catching a cold, so you tried your best to keep yourself warm when you were indoors. Not an easy task when your long black hair was always damp.

You had gone to London almost two weeks ago for work. Your boss had sent you there hoping to close an important deal that would ensure a huge benefit for the company. At first, you had no idea why he would send you, when there were much better negotiators than you at the firm. Nevertheless, when you walked into Hoffman’s office for your meeting you knew the reason and it disgusted you.

Wilson Hoffman was the kind of business man who thought his money could save him from everything. Including a harassment lawsuit. The way he looked at your legs and your cleavage ever since you set a foot in his office was enough to know why you were there. Your boss wanted Mr. Hoffman to know what kind of people worked for him. And, by people, you meant women. Disgusting.

That evening, when you were back to the apartment you had rented, you called your boss. You didn’t even care about getting fired. You couldn’t believe he was literally using you as bait to close the deal. It was degrading, humiliating and you hated it and him for making you do it. Just like you assumed before calling him, it didn’t matter how offensive you thought it was. ‘I’m your boss, you’re my employee and you have a task to fulfil. I expect results by next week’, was all he said before he hung up.

Next call you made was to your boyfriend Tony, who had to stay in New York also for work. Of course, his work was different than yours: he had to complete reports, do a lot of paperwork and train with the team. You wished you could be an Avenger as well, but you were far from being a hero or having any special skill. When you told him what had happened, he immediately threatened with ending your boss’ career. Of course, you talked him out of it and managed to calm him down. Still, the next two weeks were a huge bump in your relationship and the text you found from him when you walked out of the shower was proof of it.

I don’t wanna talk to you. –T

You read the text twice with a frown, getting worried immediately. What could have happened? Was he okay? Probably it was just a bad day. Although it was strange. He always talked to you. It didn’t matter how awful a day was, he would always talk to you either to talk about it or to distract himself. He would never keep you out of it, which just made you worry even more.

After having an internal debate with yourself, you ended up dialling his number. Sometimes he needed a little push to start talking. Maybe it was one of those cases.

“What?” His cold voice said on the other side. You frowned and looked at the phone, wondering if you had called the wrong number. No. It was him.

“Tony? What’s wrong?” You asked.

“I don’t know. You tell me”, he said. Once again, you looked at the phone. Were you really talking to Tony?

“I tell you?” You half laughed. “What is it? Bad day?”

“Seriously?” He said. You were getting more and more confused. “How’s Hoffman?”

“Being an asshole, just like yesterday and the day before” you shrugged. “Where is this coming from?”

“Have you been with him until now?”

Finally, you were beginning to understand. You knew Tony had been jealous ever since you told him the real reason your boss had sent you there, but you thought you had made it crystal clear that you hated the situation as much as he did. Obviously, you were wrong.

“Yeah, that’s kind of my job here” you shrugged. “What is this about, Tony?” You sighed rubbing your forehead, knowing you were going to have to be the adult here.

“What is this about?” This time, he was the one almost laughing. “I don’t know. You’re on the other side of the fucking world, where your jackass boss has sent you to seduce another guy. One that, according to the research I’ve made, has had multiple harassment lawsuits. You have to spend the whole fucking day with that asshole and all I get from you is a good morning text in the fucking day?” He snapped.

“Babe, you know how busy I am” you frowned closing your eyes. “I know you don’t like this situation. Neither do I, but what can I do? This is my job”

“Quit” he simply said, making you roll your eyes.

“I can’t do that” you replied.

“You can’t quit your job but you can fuck an asshole just to close a stupid business deal?” He snapped. You opened your eyes, trying to comprehend what he had just said, what he had accused you of doing.

“Excuse me?” You said, hoping he would apologize.

“You heard me”, he said instead. “I hope it’s worth it, at least” he said cynically.

“I can’t believe you” you mumbled shaking your head. “You really think I’d do that? Even if I didn’t have you?”

“I don’t know (Y/N)”, he said. “All I know is that I have no fucking clue on what you’ve been doing all day”

“Working!” You exclaimed, getting angrier by the second.

“Right” he laughed sarcastic.

“Okay, Tony, feel free to think whatever you want” you said. You weren’t willing to be insulted like that. Not by Tony Stark or anyone. “Whenever you come to your senses, you can call me. We’ll see if I’m willing to talk. Goodnight”

Before he could say anything, you hung up the phone and turned it off. You were furious, you felt insulted. How could he think something like that? You had been in a relationship for almost three years and he never had any reason not to trust you, you never gave him one, and now he came up with this? When he had been the one appearing on front covers of magazines every week with a different rumour he had to deny? No fucking way.

***

It had been a week since that last call and you hadn’t heard from Tony. At least not from himself, but just four days after that fight, you found photos online of the infamous Tony Stark partying and leaving one of the most exclusive clubs in New York not only wasted, but with a model on each arm. You tried to swallow the lump that was formed in your throat, but all you managed to do was cry yourself to sleep that night.

You couldn’t believe he had decided to throw a three-years-relationship out of the window out of unfounded jealousy. But he did. You even were naïve enough to believe he would try and reach out to you to tell you how sorry he was about everything, about the fight, the photos. He would probably say he wasn’t himself, he was hurt, and you would have ended up forgiving him. But those were just fantasies.

By the end of the fourth week after your departure from New York, you were back on a plane and you hadn’t heard from Tony. Bruce had texted you a couple of times, asking how you were and begging you not to trust those photos. But you just couldn’t ignore what you had seen. Plus, Bruce was one of Tony’s best friends, of course he would stand up for him.

It was almost midnight when you opened the door of your apartment in Broadway. You turned on the lights and left your case by the door before taking off your coat and scarf. You had changed the rainy London for the snowy New York. You preferred the latest. You kicked off your heels and unbuttoned the first two buttons of your blouse before heading to the kitchen, where you opened the fridge and took a bottle of white wine. Just like you liked to do, you filled a glass and sat on the counter facing the huge window that covered most of the kitchen and living room, facing Central Park. This sight always gave you the sense of peace you needed at the moment.

You didn’t know how many time you spent sitting on the counter, but when you jumped back down of it, the glass now empty, you felt your butt and the back of your thighs completely cold because of the marble of the counter. You walked to the phone where you had already seen the familiar red light letting you know you had messages in your machine. Three to be more precise. With a sigh, you pressed the button to hear them while you unzipped your skirt.

The first one was from your mum, from last night, reminding you your brother’s birthday next week. He had planned a family gathering in Chicago with his wife and the kids and had also invited Tony. You’d see about him. The second one was from your best friend Christine, from that morning, saying how hangover she was but she thought she had met the man of his dreams. Probably the third that month. You chuckled to yourself as you heard her rambling about how beautiful his green eyes were. The message ended with her telling you to call her asap. The third one was from that afternoon. It was the shortest one and you were shocked to hear Tony’s voice coming out of the machine.

“Call me when you get home, please”, was all he said.

You stared at the machine, waiting to hear something else, but all you heard was the beep signalling that there were no more messages.

What was that? Two weeks not knowing from each other and he know wanted that you called him after he had been an asshole? He should know better. You weren’t going to call him, nor text him. If he wanted something, he would have to call you or show up at your door. Otherwise, you weren’t going to make any efforts. Not anymore.

***

The last month had been a nightmare. At first, after he did some digging in Hoffman and found out that kind of man he was, he kept on having those flashes of you with him. It was driving him crazy. He would wait staring at the phone every day, waiting for a text or a call that let him know you were okay. The later those texts and calls were, the more jealous he got. What if that man was taking advantage of you and there was nothing you could do? Maybe you were even enjoying it.

Finally, he snapped. You two used to fight several times every week, but usually over stupid things that would be solved by the end of the day. You had never been without talking to each other for more than two hours, let alone two whole weeks. But it happened and he realised how much he needed you, how much he missed you, but the Stark ego was way too strong to let himself call you and apologize. Even when he knew he had been wrong all along. Instead of trying to behave and making it up for you, he did what he was best at: fucking it all up. Waking up to find those photos of him everywhere felt like a bullet through his stomach. There was no way you wouldn’t see those photos and, once you did, it would be over.

He had to call you. He knew it would be for the best, it was the only way to fix everything. But what was he supposed to say? He had messed it up. Big time. He even went by your apartment to check if you were back but the doorman said he hadn’t seen you. Even the team was mad at him for how he had behaved and they were right to be. He was a mess.

Finally, he decided to swallow his pride. Sort of. He wouldn’t dare to call to your personal phone, but calling to your apartment and talking to your machine would be different. The problem was that he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to talk to you over the phone, he wanted to see you. He wanted you to look at him and see that he was truly sorry. That it wasn’t all an act. So he just left a message telling you to call him when you got back. And then it was time to wait.

And so he did…

Two days after he still hadn’t heard from you. Were you still in London? When you left, you said it would be for a month. And the month was over already. You should be back. But why hadn’t you called him back?

“You’re an asshole, Tony”, Natasha told him one evening after training. “Why don’t you just grow some balls and call her? For real this time?”

“She won’t pick up” he replied simply.

“And what makes you think she will call you back if she has heard your message?” She asked.

Tony gulped and looked at the redheaded, who looked at him with a stubborn look on her face. Maybe she was right. Maybe you were too mad at him to even call him back. Maybe you were back, you had listened to his message and had deleted it without seconds thoughts. Maybe you were getting over him. The thought was like a punch in the stomach and a kick on his chest.

“What do you suggest, then? That I beg?” Tony tried to laugh. He never begged.

“If you have to” Natasha shrugged. “If you really love her, Stark, it is time that you swallow that damn pride and ego and go talk to her. Maybe she will shut the door on your face but at least you’d know she’s done with you”

“Do you always have to be so crude?” He frowned.

“Do you always have to be such a jerk?” She replied with a small smile.

***

Going back to the office had been a hell. Everybody knew you were Tony’s girlfriend –or ex-girlfriend, you weren’t really sure at the moment- and, of course, everyone had seen those photos that were published. Whispers were all around from the moment you stepped out of the elevator the first morning after your return. On the bright side, you had managed to close the deal you were sent to close, so your boss was all over the moon with your work. That didn’t stop you from tell him not to ever send you on such mission ever again. If he wanted to seduce someone, he could go himself.

“Good evening, Alfred”, you said as you walked into your building and smiled at the doorman. A mid age man with white hair and a kind smile. You wondered why he wasn’t retired, since he obviously had the age to do so, but he also seemed to love his job.

“Good evening, Mrs Jagger, how was your day?” He said with the same smile he had been sharing with her for the past six years.

“It was good, thank you”, you smiled back. “Did I receive anything?” You asked.

He turned around to check the mailboxes he had behind him and looked for your name. Of course, he didn’t have to look longer since he knew exactly where yours were. He took out a couple of letters –probably some bills- and a small package.

“Here it is”, he informed handing it to you. “Can you sign this, please?”

“Of course”, you signed the form that said that it was you who had took your mail and then put everything in your bag. “Thank you so much, Alfred. Have a good night”

“By the way, Mrs Jagger, you have a visitor”, he quickly informed. You frowned confused. “It was Mr Stark so I just let him go up”

You clenched your jaw and nodded before thanking him and making your way towards the elevator. You couldn’t blame Alfred for letting Tony go in. It had been a long time since you gave him a key to your apartment and Alfred knew who it was. Also it wasn’t the first time he would come home before you arrived from work, so it wasn’t strange for Alfred that the billionaire came out of nowhere.

As the elevator made its way towards the 20th floor, you started to think about what he had to say. You honestly expected him to apologize, but you also knew him and his pride. It wasn’t too likely to happen, which just made you wonder even more what he would say.

As you made your way to your apartment, fiddling with the keys, you felt yourself getting nervous. This had been the first time that you had spent so many time without talking to each other. Usually your fights would last a couple of hours. This one had been different and you both knew it.

“Hi”, he immediately said when you opened the door. He had been waiting by the window, probably looking down at the park, and had turned around the moment he heard the keys.

“Hey”, you replied.

You two looked at each other while you walked in, hanging your purse next to the door and leaving the keys inside its bowl. Just like you did every day, you kicked off your heels and walked into the living room not breaking eye contact.

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked, not willing to spend more time than necessary with him.

“We need to talk”, he said. You nodded and walked towards the kitchen, walked around the aisle and opened the fridge to get some water.

“You can start” you shrugged after taking a sip from the bottle.

“You got nothing to say?” He frowned, not moving from where he was.

“You are the one who accused me of fucking someone else out of nowhere, Tony”, you replied as calmly as possible. “If you don’t trust me after all the years we’ve been together then I have nothing to say. You know the kind of person I am and you know I would never do what you accused me of”, you shrugged. “And there are no photos of me drunkenly stumbling out of a club with a woman on each arm” you pointed out as well to make clear that you had seen those.

“I was wrong” he said, like that would forgive everything.

“I know you were”, you sadly laughed. “When did you exactly realise that? Last night? This morning?”

“A long time ago”, he mumbled now looking at his feet. You nodded to yourself.

“So let me get this straight” you said putting the bottle on the counter. “We had a huge fight because you thought I was fucking someone else after I didn’t text you or call you, right?” You asked. He nodded, even though he didn’t need to. “And then, soon after, you realised you were wrong. Instead of calling me and trying to fix this, you decided to…not calling nor texting while I was on the other side of the world trying to close a stupid business deal with that man?”

“I know I should’ve-“ he tried to defend himself, but you weren’t done talking. He was going to listen to you.

“Yes, Tony, you should’ve called and apologize for those things you said to me out of nowhere” you nodded. “How many times have I forgave you after rumours came out? How many times have I chosen not to listen to the gossip, the news and everything? It was a weekly thing, Tony, but I trusted you and I knew you wouldn’t do that to me, even though I had reasons to think the opposite”, he gulped. “But then you accused me of having sex with Hoffman just because I didn’t text you? You’re fucked, Tony”, you laughed. “How can I trust you when, instead of trying to fix everything, you go out and party your brains out and do whatever I don’t know what, with whoever I don’t want to know?”

“I did nothing”, he quickly said.

“And I’m supposed to trust you why? Because you say so?” You asked. You knew he wanted to say yes, or nod, but it would be too hypocritical. He just looked away. “Not this time, Tony” you shook your head. “You’ll have to do way better to try and fix this.”

“Wait”, he said and looked back at you. “Are we breaking up?”

“Do you really think we were still together after not talking to each other for two weeks and after those photos came out and after you accused me of cheating without reason?” You asked.

You would be lying if you said you had everything thought. You didn’t. Everything just came out looking at him, but you felt much better after saying them. Maybe you weren’t sure about breaking the relationship, but you knew you needed more time for yourself and reconsider everything. Trust was everything for you and you didn’t know if you could trust each other.

Tony felt like a hole had been opened beneath his feet as you said those last words. He really thought this was just a fight. A big one, but he thought you two would work it out like you always did. And now he felt lost. Tony Stark was completely speechless for the first time in a very long time.

“(Y/N) we can… we can work this out” he said walking over to the counter to be closer to you. But you lifted a hand, making him stop. “Okay, you need space. I can give it to you, but please…” he begged. “Don’t end this” he said. “This is the only thing stable in my life. I don’t know how… how to function without you” he shook his head.

“Stop” you said looking down at the dark marble and took a deep breath. “Tony, you don’t get to fix everything you break” you mumbled. “Sometimes… you have to let it go, let it cool down and…” you shrugged. “Who knows”

“So you need a break?” He asked.

“Tony, we’re done” you said looking up. “I don’t know how I’ll feel in a month, but right now I can’t be with you. Not when you don’t trust me and I don’t know if I trust you enough” you said with honesty.

“Nothing happened with those women!” He exclaimed.

“What about the next time we have a fight and you decide to go out?” You asked. Once again, he had no answer. “Exactly”, you nodded. “Just… give it time. We’ll see what happens in the future” you shrugged.

“Please…” he mumbled.

“Go, Tony” you said closing your eyes, since it was getting harder and harder to kick him out of your apartment and your life. “Please”, you added when he didn’t move.

Tony looked at you, realising that maybe he really couldn’t fix this problem. Maybe he really ruined it, the best thing that ever happened to him. He should’ve called you, he should’ve texted you, he should’ve swallowed his pride and put his ego aside. Instead, all he did was pushing you away until you were out of reach.

He nodded and, slowly, started making his way to the door. Maybe you would change your mind. But when he opened the door to let himself out, he hadn’t heard your voice. Silence was all around him and he didn’t know if he would ever hear anything ever again.

#tony imagine #tony stark imagine #tony x reader #tony stark x reader #x reader #iron man #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #imagine #pitubea #marvel imagine #mcu #rdj #Robert Downey Jr

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misswhovian101 · 6 years

Photo

I wanted to address something that I’ve been seeing a lot of lately. I usually see it on other tumblr posts or some fanfiction. It has to do with the whole ‘I adore you’ thing, and the fact that Natasha was the one who said it.

During most of the Avenger’s Age of Ultron film, we saw that Natasha was open about their relationship in public settings, while Bruce was far more reserved. But that doesn’t mean that Bruce was completely closed off from it. Examples:

“It’s not you I don’t trust."

Natasha and trust have never been best friends, she’s expert liar, she tricked the trickster for crying out loud! So for Bruce to openly say “I trust you” is in reality something very meaningful to Natasha. This scene didn’t last long, but this moment between them was actually very intimate.

“How’d a nice girl like you wind up in a dump like this?”

Bruce openly began flirting to Natasha in public. It was only there for a split second, but you could see the look of surprise in Natasha’s face, indicating that Bruce probably doesn’t do that often. But the fact that he was willing to be more open-in a very public setting, a Tony Stark party, you can’t get much more public than that-and with a very confident attitude, tells us that Bruce is far more comfortable around Natasha than anyone else. I don’t even think Tony would be able to get Bruce to start flirting in a middle of a party.

But then Johannesburg happened, and things took a turn for the worst.

It wasn’t as obvious with Bruce as it was with Natasha about how much they truly loved each other, but that’s just because of their personalities. But then we get to bedroom scene and more people start to believe that blooming romance between them is just one sided. It’s not.

Wanda showed each of them their worst fears. Natasha saw the Red Room, and her ability to be a killer with ease. But we never saw Bruce’s dream. I think the common theory is that in his dream, the Hulk killed Natasha. And to be honest, I think that makes the most sense because of the bedroom scene.

“Are you out of your mind?”

The only reason Bruce started to shy away at the idea of being with someone, was because the incident in Johannesburg reminded what the Hulk is truly capable of. He realized exactly what position Natasha was putting herself in, and that’s when the barrier and walls started to go up. Bruce started to push himself away from her, telling her there’s no future with him. He never said he could kill her, but it was on the tip of his tongue. Bruce was doing this to protect Natasha, and to make sure she had the life that she deserved because he knew that he could never give it to her.

And that’s when we get to hear Natasha’s heart wrenching back story about the graduation ceremony at the Red Room.

Bruce then remembers that he’s not the only one with a dark past, and blood on his hands. It’s hits him after that, he realizes that Natasha doesn’t care if they have kids, or not, her happy ending isn’t white picket fences. It’s him. She wants to run away with him, because it’s him. Bruce is Natasha’s happy ending.

“What...so we disappear?”

That’s when Bruce started to get back on board.

Skip to cliff scene.

Bruce wouldn’t transform back into the Hulk to help with fight. And so in that moment, Natasha had to make a choice because she couldn’t leave millions of people to die knowing she could have done something. Lose the person she would run away with and save millions of people, or run away with Bruce and let the other Avengers finish the job.

Natasha, of course, went for the former knowing very well that could lose Bruce’s trust forever, and possibly Bruce as well. Because that’s what she does, makes the tough decisions no one else wants to.

Everyone says Natasha kissed Bruce as a distraction, but she didn’t, it was a goodbye. Because like I said before, she knew that she might never see Bruce again and that sent a surge within her. Like get everything out now, because it might your last chance.

“I adore you.”

And with those three words, and a blink-and-you-miss-it fire-y kiss. Natasha pushed Bruce over the edge of the cliff.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, the reason you opened the post in the first place.

Most people like to assume that because Bruce wasn’t quite as open with flirting, and the fact that Natasha said “I adore you.” means that Natasha would say “I love you” first.

*cue annoying buzzer from game shows* NOPE!!!

Natasha would never say I love you first. The only reason she said “I adore you” in the first place, was to say goodbye. It was kind of like when people are dying and they get a last minute revelation and declare their love for someone. Expect, ya know, she wasn’t dying.

The reason Natasha would have such a hard time saying those three words is because of her past, more specifically; the Red Room. Ever since Natasha can remember, she was taught that love was for children, that it had no place in her line of work, that her only job was to lie, seduce and kill. Something like that doesn’t just magically disappear. She had no example of love, or even just remote human kindness until she met Clint.

Natasha flirts. Natasha flirts a lot. Steve established that for us. So of course, she was going to be open about her relationship with Bruce. It wasn’t her regular flirting, she was being real, being relaxed, not on edge with a knife in her hand. But it is very different for her to flirt, and for her to say I love you.

Even though Bruce had an abusive father, and his father killed his mother; his life wasn’t without love. He had his mother when she was still alive, and when she did die he went to live with his Aunt Susan. He probably had friends at school. BETTY. It’s just harder for Bruce to flirt because of his awkwardness, antil-social-ness, shyness; there’s a lot of ness’. But it would not be hard to say I love you for Bruce when the time was right.

Another key difference between them is; if Bruce told Natasha I love you, it wouldn’t that big of a deal. I mean, yes, it would be a significant mile marker, and a very big deal in their relationship. But’s not a big thing because Bruce has said I love you before, he said to his mom, to his aunt, probably to Betty as well. In his eyes, it’s just something you say to the person you love.

But if Natasha said I love you, it would be her first time saying it; ever. There was no one in her life could say it to [I know I might some comments about Bucky, but we don’t even know if their relationship existed in the MCU. They might have just been trainer and trainee. But even if it did exist, A) they might have never gotten to the point of saying I love you, and B) Natasha thought he was dead until she saw him in Odessa when he shot her.] there were no parents, no friends, no family of any kind. Sure Clint was her friend before she ever met Bruce, but I highly doubt she would be able to say it to Clint, to anyone really. (Besides, she wears a symbol of their friendship around her neck. I guess that’s her “I love you” to Clint.) She’s still learning to grow.

They are both terrible at expressing their feelings, but when it comes down to the truly emotional, hardcore stuff; Natasha takes the cake.

#brutasha #brucenat #hulkwidow #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #age of ultron #i adore you #i love you

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thebipolarbisexualnerd · 6 years

Text

To Be a Teenager

Peter is trying to navigate the world of dating, and boy does he feel like he’s messing it up royally.

Peter checked his phone for the sixth time in about as many minutes and sighed when his home screen was as blank as ever. The anxious knot in his stomach tightened and he had to take a deliberate deep breath to keep himself breathing evenly and not alert his mentor to his mental distress. Tony was working one table over and seemed to be pretty involved in his project, enough to ignore him for the time being. Peter himself wasn’t doing much more than a tad bit of tinkering, distracted by what had happened last night.

Last night he had had the apartment to himself while May was at work and Tony was on a date with Pepper for a change of pace. Peter had nobody to bother him and nowhere to be so he had invited Ned over for Legos and to watch the latest Brooklyn Nine-Nine episode. Everything was apparently nonchalant and normal except that Ned was now much more than the guy in his chair.

In fact, he was now the guy Peter wanted in his bed.

They had kept it between themselves for now. Neither of them had any idea how to tell anyone else how one night in the early hours of the morning they had kissed and hadn’t stopped since. Being with Ned was as natural as breathing and nearly as much fun as all the hype teen movies made it out to be. The kissing was thrilling and made Peter feel all kinds of things he had never given much thought to before. He didn’t know a touch could steal your ability to think or breathe until Ned’s hands were running over his chest under his shirt. He wanted to do more touching and things that parents never wanted them to know about until after they were married.

Peter just had no idea what he was doing, and that always terrified him.

One drawback of being so smart was that Peter was very rarely at a loss of how to do something very long. He always figured out problems easily and had an answer to just about everything. That or he had a brilliant mentor to help him figure things out. This thing with Ned he had no idea how to navigate, proven by his poor attempt to seduce his friend the night before.

He had dressed up in a nice shirt and some actual slacks which had tipped Ned off first thing. Then he had had candles lit around his room and some low jazz playing that neither of them ever listened to. His bed had on nice silk sheets May had bought years ago for herself and Ben actually but hadn’t been touched since his death. Ned had caught on to what Peter was hinting at and while he had grinned nervously his best friend seemed eager to try it out as well. There was nobody Peter trusted more or that he was closer to, besides his aunt and Tony.

For one night he forgot about the Peter Parker luck and actually believed he could pull this off.

He had enthusiastically taken Ned’s shirt off and tossed it on top of one of the candles. He had scorched his best friend’s shirt and while they were dousing the tiny flames they had gotten water all over the sheets in the meantime. The mood was quickly killed and Peter only got a glimpse of Ned’s chest before it was covered again completely. They had laughed it off and gone about their night as usual with May none the wiser, but Peter was humiliated and insecure that Ned hadn’t called him all day today.

“Are Steve and Bucky still dating?” Peter asked aloud after over an hour of complete silence. Tony cursed at the sudden noise as he dropped a tool that clattered to the floor loudly.

“Steve?” Tony repeated, one of his least favorite topics even after they had all made up. “Oh right, yeah, they are still together I think.”

“Right,” Peter answered, wondering if he would combust trying to ask Steve about any of this. The answer was definitely a yes and that idea was quickly put to rest.

“Thinking about putting your bisexual status to good use?” Tony inquired of him, thoroughly distracted from his project and now watching Peter closely. Peter blushed and pretended to be taking notes intently.

“Something like that,” Peter muttered. There was silence again and now Peter had to wonder where that rock music Tony loved to blare was at a time like this.

“Anything you want to tell me?” Tony pressed and Peter compulsively checked his phone yet again, though the same exact result happened. He was a scientist and should really know better than to conduct the same experiment to expect different results.

“Nothing at all,” Peter said quickly.

“You haven’t asked for a single tool, even though I put them all away for a change,” Tony gestured to where the tools were indeed neatly organized along the wall far away from his work station. Peter flushed again and wondered if he would ever get better at pretending he was fine. “Also, I’ve never seen you touch that phone as much as you have tonight. Not even the night I gave it to you. You waiting for a call?”

“Call, text, or even a like on facebook I’d take about now,” Peter confessed, flicking the screen on and wanting to cry a little when it was empty.

“Who are you waiting on?” Tony spun his chair around to face him fully and Peter followed his lead on working on any project further tonight. Tony wasn’t scary to talk to, not anymore. He was the dad he had never gotten to have around and Peter was so lucky to have him in his life. He knew Tony himself was bisexual and had probably had sex with a guy at some point in his life. It was just that as much of a nerd as Tony could be, sex had never been hard for him to come by. He had been a playboy not so many years ago and could have absolutely anyone he wanted. He would probably never understand why Peter had such a hard time moving past first base.

“I’m waiting for Ned,” Peter said softly and for once he wished Ned was here to hold him instead of Tony or May. It was weird to crave a different pair of arms now.

“You guys have a fight? I didn’t think that was possible,’ Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise. His full attention was on Peter now and it made him squirm. “What aren’t I getting in this picture?”

“Ned and I… We may not be just friends anymore,” Peter stuck his hands between his knees as they started to shake a bit. Tony would be the first person he would tell about this. About this new and delicate thing he had started a few months ago.

“Good for you!” Tony said enthusiastically with a grin. “It’s about time you two got together. Steve will be happy since he called it first.”

“Yeah well, who placed bets on when we wouldn’t work out? I bet nobody said before we even made it official,” Peter said miserably, tossing his phone on the couch so maybe he would stop obsessively looking at it.

“Hey, I thought I beat that self-deprecation out of you by now,” Tony said jokingly as he scooted close enough to tilt Peter’s gaze up to look at him. “Out with it kid, what happened?”

“How do you make sex seem so easy?” Peter blurted out before feeling his face go red yet again. “I-I mean, you just flirt so easily and, um, you used to, um-”

“Have sexual encounters with anyone I could?” Tony finished for him with a wry grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “You want to seduce Ned? Is that what I’m getting from this? Do you need condoms?”

“Oh no, no, no,” Peter backpedaled and wondered how everything always seemed to fall apart when he tried to do anything. “No Mr. Stark I don’t -- It’s not like -- Why do I mess up everything?”

“Talk to me kiddo,” Tony said softly as he brushed the back of Peter’s hair when the younger buried his face in his hands. “I’m done making jokes I promise. You can talk to me.”

“We tried last night. Or well I tried to, um, go further, but I ended up setting his shirt on fire and it was probably the least sexy thing in the world. I was nervous, I’m always nervous, and I messed up everything yet again. It’s bad enough Ned can’t have a normal boyfriend anyways and we haven’t talked about what we are or aren’t and here I was about to sleep with him. I don’t even know how to go about doing that or anything and I was thinking I could just-”

“Okay, take a breath kiddie,” Tony said gently as he took his hands in both of his larger ones. Peter was trying not to cry as he thought of the mess he had gotten into and the silence of his notifications mocked him more than ever. “Sex is a big step at sixteen, okay? It’s complicated and when it’s your best friend it’s rather emotional. You guys have been friends your entire lives and now you want to change things. Nobody is suave at sixteen and knows what to do.”

“He’s never told me he was into guys,” Peter confessed and a tear did fall down his face this time. “I don’t know if this just feels good or if he’s experimenting but I fell in love with him years ago. I don’t want to be the one left again.”

“Pete,” Tony said softly, seeing the much bigger problem evident in the room. He tugged Peter to sit on the their couch and it was easy for him to melt into his mentor’s side. “Ned is your best friend in the entire world and you are his as well. He is a great friend Peter, and I know he would never hurt you. Especially not like this. You aren’t going to be left.”

“I’m so in love with him,” Peter whimpered pathetically into Tony’s shoulder. “I want to go further, but I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m doing and Ned sure doesn’t know any more than I do. I don’t want us to hurt each other. I’m such a mess.”

“Haven’t I told you that at sixteen you’re allowed to be a mess?” Tony reminded him softly, running a hand through his soft curls gently. “You need to talk to him before anything else, alright? You need to establish some boundaries and maybe ask him on an actual date rather than making out in your bedroom, hm?”

“That might be a good step,” Peter admitted with a watery laugh.

“Take things slow kid,” Tony advised him. “It’s better that way when it counts. You’ve had to grow up way to fast in a lot of ways, so let this take some time. There is no rush to get to that step, okay? Sex is….nothing like those movies. You need to be completely comfortable with yourself and your partner before it’s really any good.”

“That’s enough of that,” Peter insisted, but he didn’t move from the safe place of Tony’s arms. They sat in silence for a little bit before a buzz took them out of their thoughts and Peter snatched his phone up quickly. He opened the message from May and instantly had tears in his eyes in a matter of moments.

“What the hell did he say?” Tony asked, and Peter had no doubt Tony would be ready and willing to kick Ned’s ass if he hurt Peter in any way.

“He dropped off flowers,” Peter said with a sappy smile, showing Tony the large bouquet now on their kitchen table. “There’s a letter attached and May said he looked sad I wasn’t home.”

“I always knew I liked Ned,” Tony said with a satisfied smile of his own.

“Do you mind if I…” Peter trailed off, gesturing to the adjoining smaller room.

“Yeah yeah, go call your boyfriend,” Tony teased him with a kiss to his temple as he let him get to his feet.

“Thank you,” Peter said sincerely with a small smile as he slipped out of the room, eager to hear Ned’s voice after a long day.

#Irondad #Spiderson #Tony Stark #Peter Parker #Ned Leeds #Peter/Ned #This is my first one so please be nice?#I'm so excited

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abrunettefangirlnerd · 6 years

Text

Not Too Big

Prompt: You and Bruce have grown extremely close through your time with the avengers till finally he asked you out. You want to take your relationship to the next level but Bruce isn’t so eager.

Pairing: Bruce Banner x reader

You head into the kitchen at the avenger headquarters where you find Steve and Natasha in a deep conversation. Not wanting to bother them you head over to the fridge to get out a bottle of water. As soon as the first drop hits your tongue your original thirst triples. Downing the entire bottle in seconds you sigh in satisfaction.

Turning you find out that you have an audience. Steve and Natasha have stopped whispering, their eyes trained on you. You stare back with a perplexed look that melts into a soft laugh from nerves. You’ve never been really good at being the center of attention by more than one person at a time. Before now you thought they were used to you being around, and you know you haven’t broken a rule that only avengers can use the refrigerator.

See you’re not really an avenger. Tony Stark hired you along with a couple dozen agents. Some of them live here but most live off base. Residing here definitely has it’s perks, aside from living in walking distance from your boyfriend. It makes you a first responder to anything the avengers need backup on, and it lets you sleep in an extra half hour before having to get to work.

“What’s up guys?” You try to diffuse the tension. “If it’s the smell or my appearance that’s all thanks to that mandatory workout.”

“We were actually talking about-” Steve starts but looks over at Nat, who finishes. “You. Well, you and Bruce.”

Your temporarily stunned, you thought they would have made a comment about anything other than your relationship. You never fully understand why people have to involve themselves in other people’s relationships like that. Don’t they have their own lives?

“Have you and Bruce, you know?” Steve looks uncomfortably at his empty plate in front of him. “It just has been oddly quiet, and we wanted to make sure everything is okay. If something affects one of us, it affects all of us.”

“Well we’re fine,” you nod along. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Before either of them could say anything else, you shoot them a smile and rush out the door. Not caring where you end up, your mind races with your own insecure thoughts.

It’s not that you don’t want to be with him like that, it’s that he doesn’t seem to. Anytime you try to take things to the next level he pulls away. It doesn’t make any sense, you know he’s overly careful but you thought he wanted you. Now you’re not so sure since everyone else has been noticing it as well.

Perhaps he just needs a bit of encouragement. An idea flickers in your mind and you race towards your bed room to tear through your drawers in search for your black lingerie. You bought them not too long ago, never been used and it might just be what you two need.

After showering, you quickly slip the pieces on and give yourself a once-over in the mirror. Making minor adjustments to your hair with your fingers you also adjust some straps. Slightly getting nervous you fidget with a few minor details of your thin attire before wrapping your deep red robe around your body.

Making your way to Bruce’s room you start to have second thoughts. There has got to be a reason why he hasn’t wanted to sleep with you. You just don’t know what that reason would be.

“Bruce,” you wait for an answer. “It’s (Y/N).”

“Come on in.” His voice faint through the barrier.

Slowly opening the door you try to get your breathing under control. Pausing you remind yourself that you’ve been dating him for months, you care about each other, and you are sexy as hell.

The bed comes into view where you find Bruce sprawled out with a book in his hands. His classes perch on the bridge of his nose as his eyes skim across the page, lips slightly ajar. You can tell that he’s done for the day from the red boxers he is lounging in.

You peel the robe, stopping around your shoulders to highlight your neck. However, Bruce’s attention seems to be heavily train on his book. He repositions his glasses and raises the book closer to his face as if trying to block out any distractions.

Moving closer you sit at the end of the bed closest to him. You position your legs to lay off to the side, crossing them you hope he notices how bare they are. In response, Bruce moves slightly to the other end like he’s trying to make room for you, or trying to run away.

Doing away with the rest of the robe, you seductively drop the fabric on the floor at the end of the bed. Attempting to move closer once more you manage to perch your body next to him. Placing your head on his shoulder your fingers graze up and down his chest.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Bruce rests the book against his lap. “I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

“Then you’d be right.” You whisper into his ear before kissing his tightening jaw bone.

“(Y/N),” he slightly moans.

Before getting too far, Bruce stops you by getting off the bed. Retreating to the other side of the room you suddenly feel very naked. Wrapping yourself in your once discarded robe you watch Bruce run his fingers through his hair, seemingly at war with himself.

“I’m sorry,” the words come out small and confused. “I should go.”

“No, (Y/N).” Bruce tries to stop you. “Come back to bed.”

Fighting tears in your eyes, you try to shake your head but you can’t bring yourself to do that. Heading towards the door you feel the weight on you double. He doesn’t want you. Plain and simple.

“I just-” you pause to control your quivering lip. “I just want to be alone right now.”

Your feet start you into a run that leads you back to your room. Changing into your pajamas you curl into a ball on your bed. Tears stream down your face as you rack up a list of reasons Bruce doesn’t want you.

1) Not skinny enough

2) Not pretty enough

3) Not an avenger

4) Not special enough

5) Not enough

****

The next few days are rough. You try to avoid places you would run into Bruce. Even though headquarters appears to be huge, it is quite small when you are trying to avoid someone. Typically taking refuge in your room you find yourself constantly hungry from skipped meals.

Not being able to remember the last time you ate, you cave. Leaving your Bruce free zone, you make your way down to the kitchen. Watching every corner, you finally make it to your destination.

The room is empty except for a folded piece of paper. Growing closer you realize it is addressed to you in nonother than the brilliant scientist’s handwriting. Unsure, you pick up the note while looking around the room for him. Finally unfolding it you read the note:

Meet me on the roof at midnight. Alone.

Strings pull at your heart arising a small gasp as you reread the note. You wonder how long ago he wrote this. What if you go up there and he’s not there? What if he has been up there waiting for you the past few nights?

Disregarding your earlier need to eat, you walk back to your room. Never taking your eyes off the letter you sit crisscross on the end of your bed. Warm tears stream down your cheeks as a minor sob escapes you, followed by a couple more you let yourself go.

Rubbing your already swollen eyes you glace up a the clock hanging on your wall. It reads 11:47 pm. Do you really want to go? Should you go? Your internal thought process fights with itself. If you do not go you will never know what he has to say, but what if you go and he has given up?

Frustrated at yourself, you head towards your closet and pull out a cream oversized sweater and black leggings. Combing your hair, you pull half of your (Y/H/C) locks into a pony. Next you look at your disheveled-pinked face and attempt to apply some light makeup.

Once deciding that this is the best you are going to look you set off toward the roof. You’ve only been up there a handful of times, all with Bruce. Guess that makes sense for it to be a meeting area, it’s sort of your place. Up there he genuinely opened up about his fear of the Hulk, it’s where you both said ‘I love you’ for the first time under the stars. So much as happened up there in so little time.

Opening the door to the outside, you are instantly taken aback. Lights wrap around the troughs that you once planted sunflowers in. Getting closer you can see baby sunflowers barely poking through the surface of the soil. In the center of the floor lays a blanket with two empty wine glasses.

“(Y/N),” a familiar voice comes from behind you.

Turning immediately, you come face to face with Bruce. His usual curls have been slick back in attempt to appear neat and tidy, but you can see some strands fighting against the gel. Along with that he matches it with your favorite shirt, a blue button down that you love with his eyes. Getting a second glace that’s when you notice the bags under his eyes and the subtle gruff peaking out wanting to form a slight beard.

“I got your note.” You state, not sure what to say. You haven’t felt uneasy around him in a while, you’re so used to feeling so secure in what being around him would entail. But that’s what happens when your relationship is hanging in the balance.

“Yeah I uh, put a sensor in it.” He nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Tony picked it up yesterday, so I had to personalize it to only go off if you touched it.”

“Good thinking on that brain of yours.” A smile forms. “It may have been Tony you’d be sharing a glass of wine with.”

You two walk side by side, not touching but sneaking little glances at the other. Reaching the blanket you kneel down to take a seat but find that Bruce is still standing, unmoving. Confused you stand back up and attempt to make eye contact, that of which he would not meet.

“I’m sorry about the other night-” he starts.

“Bruce.” You put your hand on his arm but he pulls away.

“Well I am, but I’m not.” He scratches the back of his neck again. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before… and it scares the shit out of me. And not just for the usual reasons that most guys are scared, I’m terrified of the other guy hurting you.”

You can tell by his voice that he’s serious. After a while he was okay with joking about the other guy, but you know this isn’t a joke. His voice is sullen and his posture defensive. He is truly scared of hurting you, something you never thought about. Bruce has always been so sweet and caring that most of the time you forget about his other half, his stronger half.

“Before I go on I just want you to know that when I picture myself happy… it’s with you. You really mean everything to me (Y/N).” His eyes finally match yours. “But I’ve done terrible things. I have killed so many people, stretched some limb by limb until they pass out from the pain. So let’s say we are together physically and I lose control. (Y/N) I will hurt you, most definitely kill you.”

“Am I supposed to be scared of you?” You wrap your arms around him. “Is that what you are trying to do? Scare me?”

Wrapping his arms around you in response you can feel his need to hold on. Tightening your hold on him you pray that he just lets it all out, every thought, every frustration. You want it to expel from his body. You want him to understand that you’re not going anywhere no matter what.

“Ideally, yes you should be terrified of me.” He sniffles. “But a part of me doesn’t want you to be.”

“Well I’m not.” You pull back to see his tear stricken face. “I’m not going anywhere, and no matter what you say I am not changing my mind.”

Forcing yourself on your toes, you attempt to kiss Bruce’s forehead but instead find his lips. Soft and hungry, his lips consume yours as he presses your body closer to his. Looping your arms around his neck, your fingers play with the stray hairs untouched by the gel.

A groan erupts from him through the kiss as he grabs at your thighs. Jumping, you tangle your legs around his torso as your back reaches the door to the outside. His swollen lips now dance along your jaw arising a few moans buried in your throat.

Then suddenly you are on the ground, alone. Your eyes search for Bruce where he appears on the other side near the ledge. From where you are you can see his shoulders moving up and down as he takes deep breaths. You call out his name but he puts his hand out yielding you to stop.

“I’m sorry.” He croaks, turning around finally.

Getting up you feel the hit your bottom half took and rub your legs. Trying not to show any pain you make your way over to Bruce. Wrapping your arms around his waist you look up into his eyes.

“We’ll go slow.” You assure him. “It’ll be okay.”

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naferty · 6 years

Text

Back to the Incubus and Demons au! @aomine-kuroko asked for a little more on Rhodey and Sam and them meeting so here’s a little something along with more info on demons and Steve.

It happens a while after Rhodey first runs into Steve and tries to scare him away from Tony and shortly after they start learning more about demons from Steve. Turns out demons aren’t as bad as they’re rumored to be and Steve doesn’t want to trick and run off with Tony’s soul. He’s already binded to him and nothing but death between one of them can break the binding.

Steve isn’t looking to kill Tony or hurt him or his friends, and Tony and Rhodey aren’t lethal supernaturals. They just seduce others for a living. They aren’t violent and have never killed anyone in their life. Demon bindings can’t be broken and both Steve and Tony are here to live, so the only option left is to make the best out of the situation. In this case, it means trying to find trust for the demon from the two incubi, and trying to prove he’s not out to make the incubi suffer or hurt them from the demon.

Proves to be hard to do when Steve keeps creating his tense and creepy atmosphere when someone so much as looks at Tony and what is with that freaky demon speed thing? How can anyone move that fast? What speed is considered normal for demons if they can shift gears when they want? Do they have super flight speed or is flight affected differently somehow?

These questions are the first of many that actually makes Tony and Rhodey start understanding demons a little better. Get the interesting facts out and eventually start with his personality, which includes being very greedy, like demons are stereotyped to be, but Steve is quick to let them know greed and possessiveness are very different. Demons are stereotyped as greedy, yes, but one thing many don’t understand when it comes to striking deals is it takes a lot out of the demon. Writing the symbols are easy, even a demon child can do it, but it’s the demon’s touch (magic, but they hate calling it that. they aren’t damn wizards or witches) that makes those symbols more than just writing on the floor, and it takes A LOT of it.

Depending on the deals, they can either take all of their magic stamina, half of it, or just a pinch, but being greedy risks deals after deals in short spans of time and complete depletion is possible. Recurring complete depletion causes the risk of physical sickness that will result in therapy being required in order to get them back to healthy again. Many demons were lost in the past from greediness. There are plenty of kid tales and lullabies about the risk of greediness. They are raised not to be greedy.

No, Steve ain’t greedy, he’s possessive. Huge difference. And something about Tony just brings out that side of him. After just one night he can’t seem to get the little incubus out of is head. Demon instincts screaming to keep him close. If it wasn’t for the bind between them Steve would surely be on every corner of Tony’s days, keeping an eye on him after their night together.

It’s during one of these nights where Steve seeks out Tony that Rhodey meets Sam for the first time. Sam and Steve had been spending time together when Steve goes rigid before taking off with demon speed out the establishment’s doors. Sam, who is quick to understand what Steve going stiff after keeping a close eye for the past few days means, follows him with a little struggle. Even though they’re both demons something about Steve and his past makes him the most alpha demon to ever demon and that means insane speeds that average demons can’t keep up with.

The only reason he manages to follow Steve all the way to his destination is that the area turns out to be a couple of miles close and not a lot of demon speed is required. Sam is winded by the time he goes through the doors of a human bar and at first he’s very confused as to why Steve is even there until he sees the demon in question.

Steve is sitting down next to a man in a curved booth with his arms around his shoulder and grinning at the two ladies on the man’s other side and Sam knows that grin anywhere. It’s the grin that Steve puts on when he’s about to fight someone he doesn’t like.

The two gals he’s grinning at are closed in inside the booth by another, taller man and the two ladies are looking very offended from the way they’re glaring, not at Steve, but at the man Steve has wrapped in his arm. They give the man’s friend a lethal glare, making him get up quickly to let them exit before they scoff at the pair and march away with a huff. Sam is very confused by the sight but moves forward to investigate and sure enough -

“What was that?!” the tall one hisses. “You can’t just come into our territory and chase away our meals. That is not something you do!”

Meals? Ah, must be sexual supernaturals then, Sam thinks. He bets they’re incubi.

He notices how subdued the man in Steve’s arm is, looking down and put out, as if this has happened far too many times, no matter his stance on it. Sam just knows Steve is responsible for it and he’s not going to be surprised when he learns of what Steve has done this time.

Steve is staring at the tall man hissing at him, doing his stilled, demon stare that would make even the strongest supernatural out there run in fear, but shockingly the tall incubiisn’t budging and is, in fact, hissing louder, standing tall and threatening. “There’s serious rules we follow here and the rules between us is we don’t mess with your deals and you damn demon don’t mess with our food!” Sam is… very impressed.

He’s quick to get closer in order to introduce himself because this incubus is someone he needed to meet centuries ago.

“Stare at me with that freaky demon glare all you want, buddy but I am not letting this go,” the tall incubus continues to rant. “I’m half tempted to grab some silver to see if those rumors are true for demons and shove it up your -”

“Now that ain’t nice,” Sam has a smile on when the incubus twirls in surprise, ready to punch the new voice. “Why would you want to shove that up Steve there for? Doesn’t sound fun.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Name’s Sam, and as much as we’re rumored to, we demons don’t actually visit hell.” Tall incubus glares even harder. Sam’s really starting to like this one. “What’s your name, tall, dark and angry?”

“Not your damn business,” dark and angry turns his back to him and looks to want to continue ranting to Steve, but Steve has already looked away and is staring intently at the incubus in his arms, whispering something, and it’s so obvious Steve’s recently strange behavior is caused by a binding to this very incubus. Small incubus is blushing, from what Sam could see, but the bar is dark and he could be imagining it. Incubus aren’t supposed to look that cute, but damn is that incubus somehow pulling it off.

Tall incubus makes an angry sound and is ready to yank Steve off, but Sam makes his move, not wanting a fight to happen while surrounded by humans. They didn't need a Demon versus Incubus match. He knew Steve and when it came to Steve and his possessive side there would be no stopping a fight once it starts. If that fight happened one of them would most certainly expose themselves and the last thing they needed is to have a room full of panicked humans.

“Now look, I get you’re defending your space and your friend there seems to be in a bind because of Steve, but how about we calm down and not make a scene in a room full of humans, huh? We can talk this over.”

“Won’t need any talking once I’m done with him.”

Sam is really starting to like this incubus. He can already feel himself half in love. “Know what? I like you.”

“Yeah, your friend there said you would,” the incubus gives him a dry look, clearly unimpressed. “You want to know my name before I kick your friend’s ass? Fine. You can call me Rhodes. Now move.”

Instead of doing what he’s told, Sam just stays in place and grins. “I thought incubi weren’t violent? That you avoid all that hassle by simply seducing the confrontation away.”

“Yeah? That’s what you heard about us? I’m about to prove those rumors wrong, so move out of the way.”

Sam doesn’t, but he sees first hand how far an incubus will go to help a friend.

Sam ends up learning about Tony before Bucky and Natasha do, which is fine. Steve trusts Sam not to make a big deal since Sam knows Steve is a grown ass demon and can handle the consequences of his choices on his own. Though, when looking at Tony and how happy Steve seems to be these days he gets the feeling consequences is the last thing Steve is getting from this deal.

And hey, Sam got meeting Rhodey out of it, so he can’t complain.

#text post #long text post #naferty writes #incubus and demons au #demon sam #incubus rhodey #some stony #might be some rhodeysam #samrhodey #warfalcon #sam really likes rhodey after this #he loves them feisty #incubus tony #demon steve

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lovemesomerafael · 4 years

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Others Like Me Chapter 10: Spain

Chapters 1-5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Read it on AO3

Most of the team sleeps on the way back to the Compound, but only Bucky gets on the plane, takes a seat, and sleeps until they hit the tarmac in New York. Actually, he doesn’t sleep the entire time; he wakes up a few times, blinks, remembers, and forces himself to go back to sleep again. He knows he can’t just sleep until he feels better, like he used to back in Brooklyn when he had the flu. But it’s working for now.

He doesn’t dream, at least that he can tell. Too exhausted, maybe.

It doesn’t escape him that, every time he wakes up, Steve’s sitting next to him. Sometimes he’s asleep, too, but mostly he’s reading or talking softly to Clint or one of the soldiers. Bucky wonders if Steve knows how much that helps. Probably. But when he can, Bucky’s going to tell him, anyway. He can’t, right now. But he can reach out and take Steve’s hand where it’s resting in Steve’s lap. So he does. Bucky closes his eyes and goes back to sleep, so he doesn’t see Steve spend the next hour staring at their clasped hands, or feel the tear that escapes to fall onto Bucky’s fingers and then roll down onto Steve’s.

Back home, it’s morning and Bucky can’t sleep anymore. He looks around for something to catch his interest, but he doesn’t want to sit still, he’s too tired and sore to work out, and his stab wound isn’t healed enough yet to go for a run. So he just prowls the compound like a tiger in a cage, restless and melancholy. He’s glad there’s no one around. Steve and Clint are here somewhere, but Tony, Bruce, Natasha, and Sam have all stayed behind to help the Troops figure out their next steps. Scott’s gone back wherever he came from. It’s quiet, and there’s no one to be bothered by Bucky’s edginess and constant roaming.

Eventually, he unpacks his gear and works on cleaning and repairs, just for something to occupy his hands. His mind’s kind of fuzzy, which he figures is probably a good thing. In his mind, he’s replaying the operation to destroy the bunker and free the Troops, like he always does after a mission, but mostly he’s trying not to think about anything. He doesn’t want to think about Marya, and he’s not ready to think about Steve.

The next week goes kind of like that, although every day’s a little better than the last. Tony gets back and he’s full of ideas for the Troops. The twelve who are staying together have chosen to live in Spain, in the Basque country west of Bilbao, and Tony and the other Avengers have an idea for a compound sort of like this one, if a little more self-sustaining. The first thing the Troops did was to choose names for themselves, real names, rather than their number designations, which Natasha thinks is a good sign. She’s helping them start figuring out the real world, and Sam’s helping them begin to process what they’ve been through and done in their years as Hydra captives. Bruce is working on plans for the compound, which Tony is, of course, financing.

Steve explains to Bucky that there’s more to this than mere altruism. The Troops are still dangerous as hell, yet extremely vulnerable. It’s critical that The Avengers keep in close contact and on good terms with them so that they don’t just become the pawns of some other organization like Hydra, or worse. Besides which, they’ll be great allies if needed in a fight.

It hurts to hear about them. Bucky wants to be there; he knows he’s their “brother”, and he should be there. But he simply can’t. Tony is full of funny stories about the Troops misunderstanding common turns of phrase, and it reminds Bucky so much of Marya he feels it like a knife in his gut. He’ll get there. He knows he will, and it won’t be that long. But not today, and not next week. Nobody’s rushing him.

Steve’s not rushing him into anything, either. For the first month, that suits Bucky fine. Their friendship was in such tatters a short time ago that it’s nice, for now, to start simply. When Bucky had first been rescued from Hydra, he’d been a mess, and Steve had simply been present, letting Bucky set the tone and speed of their reunion. After that, when Bucky was fully Bucky again, he’d tried as hard as Steve had to recapture the easy intimacy of their friendship and, for the most part, they’d succeeded for a short time. But things had fallen apart when they’d tried to rekindle their romance. The romance wasn’t the problem – God knows that wasn’t the problem – but every time he’d tried, Bucky had found himself unable to keep from pulling away, so shamed and disgusted by himself he couldn’t bear to let Steve get close. The more Steve had pushed, the further Bucky had retreated, until he’d finally decided the least painful alternative for them both was to give up on ever being able to let Steve love him again. They’d both been so frustrated that they were barely speaking even before Bucky had been abducted and met Marya.

Things are different now. They’ve been repairing their friendship since before the bunker, even when Bucky was with Marya. And when she’d told Bucky that she wasn’t coming back with him - that he was ready to be with Steve again, where he belongs - Bucky had known she was right.

It’s taken Bucky this long to get over the shock and initial grief of Marya’s death. These days, however, he can think about her and smile. It still hurts like a bitch, but the truth is, she’s been gone almost as long as she was in Bucky’s life. And Steve’s here.

They’ve started training together again, which is what they’re doing right now. The serum lets them beat the crap out of each other if they want to, knowing everything will be pretty much healed by the next day. But Bucky’s been noticing that, lately, he wants to tackle and wrestle Steve a lot more than he wants to punch or kick him, and he knows exactly what that’s about. It’s time. He thinks Steve’s there, too, but he won’t make a move. Every time Bucky tries, Steve gives him this “let’s take it slow” speech, the exact opposite of what he did when Bucky really needed to take it slow. It just wouldn’t be their relationship if they didn’t fuck things up ten ways to Sunday.

Steve’s just thrown Bucky over his head to land with a thud flat on his back, knocking the breath out of him for a minute. Bucky’s smiling. He would be laughing if his lungs were currently working, and Steve’s being a complete smug dick about it. When Bucky catches his breath, Steve makes the mistake of reaching down to help him up from the mat and gets his feet swept out from under him. In less than a second, Bucky’s got him pinned and his legs trapped with his own.

“You’re such a sucker!”

“It’s called manners,” Steve huffs. “You should try it.”

“Make me.”

For the next few minutes, Steve tries to do that, but Bucky’s having it all his way. The end result is a lot of writhing around while Bucky’s lying pretty much fully along Steve which is, of course, Bucky’s entire intention.

“All right, fine,” Steve sighs disgustedly. “You win this one.”

“Uh-huh. Now gimme my prize.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kiss me.”

Steve’s instantly on alert. He frowns and goes all concerned. Bucky rolls his eyes. “Shit, Steve, it’s just a kiss. I’m not askin’ you to marry me.”

“I know, Buck, but I’m trying to do things right this time. Tryin’ to take it slow.”

“Fine. Kiss me slow,” Bucky grins.

Steve’s uncertain, but Bucky’s not, and he also happens to be kind of a shit. So he starts rubbing against Steve, leaning down to within a fraction of an inch of his lips, and not letting him get away. “C’mon,” he purrs. “What’re you afraid of?”

“Not you, that’s for sure.”

“Then fuckin’ kiss me, punk.”

Steve does. Bucky can feel that he’s into it, and he’s breathing hard, but he keeps the kiss gentle and almost chaste.

“What am I, your sister?” Bucky growls. “I said kiss me.”

That works. The next thing Bucky knows, he’s the one lying under Steve, who’s straddling him and kissing him for real. It’s about time.

It feels glorious to have Steve’s hot mouth on his, kissing him hard and invasively, all tongue and moans. Bucky keeps trying to grind against him, and it works for a few minutes, but then Steve pulls back and rolls off of Bucky.

“What the hell? Come back here,” Bucky groans, reaching for Steve, who moves a little away.

“Can’t help it, Bucky, you’re just so damn sexy.”

“Which is a reason to come back over here, lame-brain, not move away.”

“No, but, I just don’t wanna start something we can’t finish.”

“Why the hell can’t we finish it? I want to finish it. That’s kind of the point I’m makin’ here.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Buddy, it’s been too long.”

Bucky reaches for Steve, who stands up and moves a few steps away. He pulls his fingers through his hair, clearly troubled. “C’mon, Buck, stop it. You know I can’t resist you.”

“Then don’t!”

“Dammit, Bucky, this isn’t a game. I love you. I’m tryin’ to do right by you.”

Bucky sits up, sighing in frustration. “OK, OK. Look, I know that. I just… I want you, Stevie.”

“Yeah, I got that message. And I’m right there with you. But I’m playin’ for keeps here, Bucky. I pushed too hard before. I’m not makin’ that mistake again.”

“Even if it kills me?” Bucky’s voice is half-shriek, half-whine.

“If it didn’t kill me before, it won’t kill you now. Quit bein’ such a baby.”

Bucky smirks up at Steve from where he’s sitting on the mat. “I’m not gonna quit tryin’.”

“Good. Don’t. Because I’m not always gonna say no.”

As good as his word, Bucky continues to try to seduce Steve. Steve’s maintained his boundaries so far, but Bucky’s been steadily eroding them. Steve’s willing to make out, shirts optional, and he’s OK with them getting a little handsy sometimes. Bucky’s even been able to get him so worked up he agreed to mutual hand jobs a couple times, but so far he hasn’t been able to get Steve’s pants off. It’s been frustrating in the extreme, but it’s also been the right thing to do. Bucky’s never going to give Steve the satisfaction of telling him that, but he knows it’s true.

Three months after the bunker mission, Bucky goes to Spain. Natasha’s experiences are similar to those of the Troops in many ways, and that’s already proved to be a very good thing on a number of occasions. They’re free and adapting much faster than anyone expected, but they’re still traumatized and living in an alien world. Natasha has some things she needs to take care of, and she thinks Bucky needs to be there in her absence. It’s definitely time for him to help out, and he feels ready.

In the hangar, Steve kisses Bucky good bye and they agree they’ll see each other in two weeks, either at the Compound or in Spain, if Bucky’s still there.

“I been thinkin’ maybe, when you get back, we could talk about makin’ some changes around here,” Steve says, holding Bucky close and whispering in his ear.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like, maybe… sleeping arrangements.”

Bucky pulls back, completely surprised. “You son of a bitch! You say that to me now, when I’m leavin’ the country?”

“I thought it’d be good for us to, you know, think about it first.”

“Oh, I’ll be thinkin’ about it, all right. C’mere, you.”

Bucky kisses the daylights out of Steve for a full five minutes before the rest of the crew making the flight begin to be obvious about their impatience. Smiling into Steve’s eyes, he says, “I love you. I’ll see you in two weeks.” Then he wiggles his eyebrows. “Naked.”

“You really know how to ruin a romantic moment, you know that?”

Bucky hugs Steve again, chuckling, and Steve whispers, “I love you, Buck.”

Marya’s brother, now called Dmitriy, meets the Quinjet with a truck, to take Bucky and the others, and the supplies they’ve brought, back to where the Troops are building their Compound. They won’t find it without an escort, and even if they did, they wouldn’t make it past the perimeter that’s been set up.

Dmitriy and Bucky introduce themselves, never actually having spoken before. It’s a solemn moment when they first stand in front of one another. It’s a little jarring when Dmitriy speaks Spanish; Bucky had just assumed he’d speak Russian. When he asks about it, Dmitriy shrugs and says they speak the local languages for everyday. They’ll stand out less, and there’s something symbolic about choosing to live their new life in a language other than Russian.

Bucky nods, and mentions that he’s been on missions in this part of Spain and speaks Basque in addition to Spanish. Dmitriy smiles. “I thought you might. You are our brother, after all.”

“I haven’t been much of a brother up to now,” Bucky admits, chagrined. “But I’m here now.”

“Sergeant, I never had the chance to talk to Marya about you and her. There was no time. But I’ve been told enough to appreciate the fact that you mourn her. I understand and, if it makes any sense, I’m thankful that you care that much.”

“I do. I loved her, Dmitriy.”

“Then we have that in common, along with everything else.”

Bucky doesn’t quite understand why the hard hug he and Dmitriy share feels so healing, maybe something about knowing that Dmitriy feels Marya’s loss as much as Bucky does. But he knows from that moment that he wants to make a friend of Dmitriy.

“You can call me Bucky, you know.”

“No, Sergeant,” Dmitriy says with a grin he doesn’t even try to hide. “I can’t.”

That gets a belly laugh from Bucky, even though Dmitriy’s resemblance to his sister when he says it hurts like hell. He supposes he better strap in for a lot of that while he’s here.

As promised, when Bucky’s been in Spain for two weeks, Steve comes to the Compound for a few days. Bucky’s part of Dmitriy’s work crew framing the first building of the Troops’ Compound, now that they’ve dug and poured the foundation, so he can’t be there to welcome Steve. He’s more than a little aware of what time Steve’s arriving, though, and he sees the truck arrive.

Dmitriy has proven to be every bit the smartass Marya was, and insists that the crew can’t do without Bucky until they get done with the section they’re working on and break for lunch. His shit-eating grin tells Bucky he’s well aware of the situation, but he refuses to relent. As they work, Bucky keeps expecting to see Steve come walking out of the grove of trees where the Troops are currently housed in a large grouping of yurts, but he doesn’t. By the time noon arrives, Bucky’s pretty much bordering on blue balls and about ready to give Dmitriy a demonstration of what his left arm can do. Finally, he hears Dmitriy give a shrill, melodic whistle and jumps, rolling as he lands, from the building’s ridgepole to the ground. As he strides rapidly toward the yurts, removing his toolbelt as he goes, he hears Dmitriy’s deep laugh follow him.

Steve’s not in Bucky’s small yurt when he tears the door open, but to Bucky’s utter joy, he sees that Steve’s dropped his bag on the end of the bed. Bucky feels another jolt of arousal as he realizes that means Steve’s staying here. With him.

As he stalks over toward the biggest yurt, where he thinks Steve must be, Bucky belatedly realizes that he was so anxious to see him that he’s forgotten to put a shirt on or wash up. He can tell that a lot of his hair’s pulled free of the elastic at the back of his neck, because some of it is in his eyes. But he immediately forgets again when he finds Steve deep in conference with Bruce and Sam, going over blueprints and details of the water system they’re building. Once Bucky sees Steve, he doesn’t see anything else. He only dimly realizes that Steve’s practically drooling, staring at Bucky’s sweaty, dirty bare chest and flushed face.

They just stare at each other long enough for Sam to roll his eyes and groan disgustedly. “For fuck’s sake, you guys, I’m gonna get pregnant if you keep lookin’ at each other like that. Go be alone, and remember yurts have fabric walls. Damn.”

Bruce blushes and looks down at the table covered with blueprints, drawings, and plans.

Bucky and Steve are in each other’s arms instantly, and they hold one another tightly for so long that, when they let go, they realize that Bruce and Sam have left the yurt without their realizing it. Their mouths meet hungrily, greedily, and that takes a long time, too.

“I saw your stuff on my bed. You stayin’ with me?” When Steve opens his mouth to answer, Bucky says quickly, “And you should know that the only answer I’m gonna accept is yes.”

“Yes,” Steve smiles widely.

It’s hard for Bucky to kiss Steve the way he wants when he’s smiling so much, but he’s also suddenly way too horny to kiss much, anyway, without ending up fucking Steve right here on the floor of Bruce’s office.

“I made us a picnic,” Bucky says breathlessly.

“Really? That’s what you wanna do right now?”

“Sam’s right. Yurts have fabric walls. And it’s beautiful here. There’s a hill about a mile away with a clearing. Sunshine, blanket on the grass… You… Me…”

“Fuck,” Steve gasps. “Sign me the hell up.”

They practically run to pick up the packed picnic supplies Bucky’s stashed just inside the door of his yurt and get to the clearing. Steve doesn’t spend much time smoothing out the blanket, just shakes it out in front of him and then pulls Bucky down onto it. Bucky doesn’t mean to literally tear Steve’s shirt off, but he also doesn’t give it a second thought when it happens. Feeling Steve’s bare chest against his, the solidity of his muscular body in his arms, the heat and need in his kisses, is like air to Bucky. He doesn’t know how he’s going to let go long enough to get Steve’s jeans off.

“I love you. I love you so much, Stevie.”

“I love you, too, Buck. You’re mine.”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah, I’m yours. Always been yours.”

As it turns out, Steve’s not able to let Bucky go any more than Bucky can let go of Steve. They end up clasping desperately at one another, mouths open to each other and tongues stroking each other when they remember, grinding painfully hard cocks together until they both come, hissing filthy praise and their love for each other.

“Jeez, Buck, we haven’t done that since we were seventeen.”

“’Bout time, then,” is all Bucky has to say between kisses down Steve’s jawline.

“We’re gonna be a sight walking back into the Compound.”

“There’s a creek,” Bucky mutters, moving lower to take a nipple into his still-greedy mouth.

“Fuck.”

At long last, after months of hot but frustrating make-out sessions and heavy petting, Bucky pulls Steve’s jeans off and takes all of him in for the first time. The sight is enough to make Bucky’s own jeans uncomfortable again, and he quickly peels them off. Steve’s already hard again, too, and he makes a sound that’s almost a whimper when he sees Bucky reach into the picnic hamper and pull out a bottle of lube.

“Planned this all along, huh?”

Bucky snorts. “Sweetheart, I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking you pretty much nonstop for the last two weeks. Damn straight I planned this.”

Steve cries out as Bucky softly touches his hole wit warm, slippery fingers. “I ever tell you how fucking sexy you are?”

Bucky’s smile is almost too happy to be the predatory leer he’s going for. “Tell me now, while I make all those dirty thoughts come true.”

“I love you,” Steve begins, his words broken and breath hitching as Bucky begins to lick lightly at the head of his cock. “You’re so gorgeous. I saw you in Bruce’s yurt just now and I just about lost it right there- oh, shit, Bucky! Fuck, your mouth is a lethal weapon…”

Bucky chuckles and begins a slow but definite rhythm, sliding his finger in and out of Steve while he continues teasing him with his tongue. Steve’s moving his pelvis, letting Bucky know how fast to go. “So fuckin’ good,” Bucky murmurs, sliding another finger into Steve as he relents and takes Steve’s cock into his mouth.

Steve’s shout of pleasure is a definite reason to be a mile away from the closest other people.

“Oh, fuck, Bucky… You feel so good. I’ve wanted you for so long. I… Oh…”

“You gonna come, Sweetheart? Yeah, come for me. Oh, I would love that…”

Bucky barely gets the words out before Steve’s fucking into his mouth and screaming – there’s no other word for the sound he’s making – as he shoots down Bucky’s throat. Bucky could easily come from watching that, just rubbing against the blanket on the soft grass, but he wants to be inside Steve when he comes next.

By the time Steve’s starting to relax a little, Bucky’s got him fully ready and, although he just came, Steve’s still hard. Gotta love that serum.

“Fuck me, Buck. Please, Baby, I need to feel you – us together – it’s been so fucking long…”

Bucky feels like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, and when he raises up on his knees, lifting Steve’s thighs to give himself a little more room, it feels like here, pushing his cock gently into Steve is the place he’s always supposed to have been. He’s surprised to feel tears burn at the back of his eyes. Despite the awkward stretch it takes, he leans over and kisses Steve’s lips, buried completely in the man he loves.

“Stevie…”

“Ungh...”

“I’m yours. Always.”

“Mine.”

“Yours. And you’re mine.”

He has to grit his teeth a little, but he wants to enjoy this moment, stroke after stroke, for as long as he can. The sun is warm on his back, and there’s a sweet smell of green in the air, and Steve looks absolutely perfect lying beneath him, eyes boring into his, glowing with exertion and pleasure. When he comes, Bucky doesn’t shout. He whispers, breathing hard, “I love you, Steve. I love you. I’m yours. I’m yours…”

It’s dusk before they wander back into the Compound, holding hands and smiling quietly. When they enter Bucky’s yurt, they see that someone has laid out supper for them on the table. Bucky knows they’re welcome at the communal evening meal, which makes this gift all the more thoughtful, especially because there’s nothing Bucky and Steve want more right now than to be alone together. They can hear voices outside, and see the warm, flickering light of a few campfires, but it’s just a comforting backdrop for the small, blissed-out world inside the yurt where only the two of them exist.

One of the reasons Steve’s at the Compound is that they are going to finish the mop-up of their destruction of Hydra. On the day they’d taken the bunker, the team had purposely allowed Hydra the opportunity to call for help, to see who would answer. Sam and Tony had destroyed the three helicopters that responded and, with support from Natasha, the Troops had traced them to a group The Avengers hadn’t known existed. The Troops learned all they could about them. It was as bad as they’d feared, and not something they could allow to grow.

With the Troops, Steve and Bucky spend a few days destroying the group and its facility. Bucky sees what Steve meant when they’d discussed this earlier. The Troops are far too dangerous and naïve to be abandoned to their own devices, and they’re invaluable allies. Besides caring deeply what happens to them, Bucky sees the wisdom of making sure their little community succeeds, and that The Avengers are the foundation for that success.

It’s an opportunity for Bucky to bond further with Dmitriy, and for Steve to get to know him. Sitting around a fire back at the Compound the night they return from the raid, the three get as drunk as supersoldiers can, mild and temporary as alcohol’s affects on them are. They speak English, because the U.S. Army has never had Hydra’s focus on languages. Steve could learn them ridiculously easily, as they all can, but he hasn’t bothered much. They talk about a lot of things, enjoying each other’s company and making informal plans for the future.

“I gotta ask, Dmitriy, about that scar on your face,” Steve says, slurring his words just a little. “How’s someone who got the serum develop a scar? I never do. Bucky doesn’t.”

“We don’t, either,” Dmitriy answers. “I think I must have had this before the serum. I don’t ever remember not having it.”

Bucky asks, “Are you guys gonna work on that? Your memories, I mean? Bruce has some theories.”

“We already are. More with Sam than Bruce, though. Nobody’s very comfortable with the idea of doctors, period, and we’ve had about enough of people playing with our minds.”

“Amen to that, Brother,” Bucky mutters, and downs the rest of the vodka he’s drinking.

“We’re more focused on the future. As you know, we don’t really know what the serum does long-term. We want to build a life here, which means we need to know some basics about what we can expect. Our life spans, whether we could ever have children, those kinds of things. That’s what Bruce is working on, when he’s not designing septic systems.”

They enjoy a quiet laugh about that.

“And you two? It’s not much of a secret that you’re having some sort of reunion, and it’s definitely not a secret what kind.” Dmitriy smirks. “What’s in your future?”

Steve looks at Bucky like he’s pretty much perfect and Bucky finds himself expecting a twinge of pain and shame that doesn’t come.

“Whatever it is,” he says, squeezing Steve’s hand and looking into his too-blue eyes, “It’ll be together.”

#Bucky Barnes #Sebastian Stan #Captain America #Chris Evans #The Avengers #Sam Wilson #Stucky #Tony Stark #Bruce Banner #Natasha Romanoff

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