#and then we’ve got. bruce. another genius. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunflower-snz · 6 months

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Secret Santa: @zensations35

Hey Zen! :D You got me as your secret santa this year, hopefully this’ll be up to your standards, I had some pretty big boots to fill. Now I’ve never written male snz before so please excuse the quality. We’ve a few avengers featuring at the beginning of this then we go very Loki focused at the end for you. Hopefully this’ll be enjoyable to read :D

Under the cut: MAINLY male snz, tiny snippet of female sprinkled in, slight contagion but nothing too major :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Had he known this were to happen, Loki really wouldn’t have bothered going to that god damn party.

It had all started a week ago, Clint Barton had just returned from a week-long stake out overseas, it was a valuable mission. One he completed well. But it wasn’t just a new report of the bases’ ongoing activities which the archer had been kind enough to bring home with him.

“HaH! HH’aETSCHOO!” He barrelled forwards, the edges of his unnaturally red nose twitching as he held a calloused hand lazily in front of his face in apprehension for the next. Not that he did a job of covering up his first one.

“Christ Clint, cover your mouth.” The redheaded spy seated at the end of the table retorted, her usually stoic face cringing at the sound of the thick wet sniffles that he gave in response. He sounded awful. Of course, she had sympathy for her partner, but that sympathy was buried by the urge to violently hurl a box of tissues in his general direction. She did not want to catch that.

Who could blame her really? Everyone was thinking it. Shared glances and hushed whispers made their way round the dining table. Nobody wanted to be the person to say that Clint should probably have been curled up in bed instead of sat sharing (more than) breakfast with the team but as it was his first day back, exceptions were made.

Boy did people really come to regret that. It had taken, what was it, 12 hours? For the second pair of sniffles to be heard in the tower. Tony, sat in his lab, looked up from the mess of wires he has been working on soldering to see Bruce swiping a quick finger beneath his nose. A very recognisable, pre-sneeze look clouding his features. God damn it, Barton! The genius thought to himself, realising that maybe sharing a meal with a man too tired to be bothered about the consequences sharing his germs probably wasn’t the greatest idea in hindsight.

“Damn, hIh- It.” It seems his lab partner was thinking the same thing as his head reared backing, with yet another hitching breath. Then another.. And another. “Hah- Fuck.” Now Bruce wasn’t one to swear but this was an exception. He needed to sneeze, he could feel it right there! Just in the bridge of his nose, but it wouldn’t quite- “Hhh..HAH-”

Suddenly he drew in a loud inhale, more so resembling someone taking in a long deep breath before diving into water. But this wasn’t for holding his breath. The scientist suddenly found his body diving forward with a loud, desperate, “GHAH’CHH! HaH’HTSHOO!”

Barton was clearly more contagious than he thought. Shit.

Maybe had this cold had come at an opportune time, when things were less busy, people wouldn’t had been so annoyed, but this coming Friday was the date of Stark’s annual holiday party. Something the genius was not planning on missing. Some would say that Stark parties over the top. Tony preferred ‘extravagant.” Whatever they were, they were always a big deal. Fully stocked bar, music, dancing. The whole deal. And a Stark party would never, could never, be postponed, the mere thought of it went against his entire ideology. It was an insult to him personally for anyone to even suggest such an action. No. This party would be going ahead. With full attendance.

Sniffles or not.

Day’s passed yet no-one seemed to be improving. Barton had finally retired to his bedroom in an attempt to prevent thing’s being shared further but it was a little too late for that. Pepper also already begun to sniffle last night, Bruce was currently sat surrounded by a pile of tissues in his lab and even Cap had begun clearing his throat intermittently. Tony could swear he felt his throat tickle every now and then – that might’ve just been hypochondria though. But regardless, now wasn’t the time for sickness. There were things that needed celebrating and tonight they would.

Loki hadn’t even been planning to attend the event in the first place. Why would he? Sure, he may be at the point where he was civil with most of the Avengers by now but “frolicking around with that pretentious asshole”, the asshole in question needing no introduction, was not how he wanted to spend him evening.

“Come on, you know you enjoy it really!” It was only after several hours of nagging from Thor that he finally agreed to trouble himself with the effort of attending. If anything, his attendance was only to please his brother - definitely not the promise that he would have full unrestricted access to the open bar.

The night of Stark's annual holiday party arrived, and the Tower was transformed into a dazzling spectacle of lights, music, and laughter. The atmosphere was alive with celebration, and even those who were feeling under the weather couldn't resist the allure of the extravagant event. Not that they had much choice anyway.

Loki, clad in his customary green and gold attire, stood at the edge of the crowded room, observing the festivities with a detached interest. He quickly downed a drink he’d swiped from the doorman’s desk and allowed himself into the bustling crowd, leaving the empty glass on a random table as shifted through the masses. He’d almost made it over to his brother but was interrupted with a sudden slap on the back.

“Enjoying the party?" Came the still slightly Coarse voice of a seemingly now more energetic Clint. The day he’s spent resting seemingly reviving his energy.

The God raised an eyebrow, acknowledging the archer with a nod. "As much as one can enjoy these mortals' festivities." He shifted, noticing the man’s slightly rough appearance. Do these people really not clean themselves up for special events? Typical. He tsk’d to himself

Clint chuckled, seemingly unfazed by Loki's disdain. "Well, they know how to throw a good party. You should try the drinks; they're divine."

Loki smirked, intrigued despite himself. "Divine, you say? I may indulge in a taste." He quipped, taking the drink from the man’s and swigging it before he had a chance to interject.

It wasn’t like he’d be able to warn him much anyway. Clint suddenly sneezed without warning. The unexpected spray catching both of them off guard.

“HhHAHTSCHOO!“

"Gah! Sorry about that," Clint apologised, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, “Still a little under the weather I guess.” He sniffled to himself, before being called away from someone, leaving the God revelling in genuine disgust.

“Christ,” Loki muttered to himself, taking off his spray-speckled blazer and groaning in repulsion, “This jacket costs most then your entire outfit and you have to nerve to sneeze on it?” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head with a sigh. Mortals. Their lack of manners never seemed improve.

Maybe if he’d gone home at that point, he still could’ve escaped unharmed. But no, he just had to get and get himself another drink – he deserved one another dealing with that -. Afterall he did come here to enjoy himself.

The god made his way through the crowd, eyes rolling at some of the terrible dancing he saw from the playboy genius on his way. People really looked up to this guy?

He approached the bar, sliding onto one of the pristine white stools tucked into the counter, “Can I get a larg-” He began, but the redhead stood behind the bar held up a silent finger, stopping him in his tracks as a hazed expression shifted her features, making her eyelashes flutter rapidly.

“Ih’shIEW! Hup’TSHH! Hih!-Hh-IshHh’tSHU!” Her small frame seemed to helplessly curl in on herself as she bent at the waist while simultanously turning away to catch her sneezes into her hands. She coughed a little as she straightened herself back up.

“Do egxcuse me.” Her voice was flooded with congestion. Natasha dared to sniffle before pulling out a napkin from somewhere. How did spies always seem to have hidden pockets in every outfit he wondered to himself, not that he was jealous or anything. Magic would always superior for making things appear and disappear without a trace but for a human, she did a pretty good job at keeping things discreet. She held the napkin to her nose, and he looked away. Clearly she was embarrassed around the whole thing. Normally he would’ve taken advantage of that, even found it somewhat comical, but 2-drink Loki was a bit of a softie. Especially when the usually tough-unbreakable Natasha Romanoff looked as if though she was about to crumble.

She blew her nose quietly and cleared her through but this time different voice spoke as he looked up from his drink. “I told you that you should’ve stayed in bed.” Maria purred softly, coming round to slink her arms around the Nat’s waist, pulling her closer from behind as she too seemingly also appeared from nowhere, “You’re not one to get sick, I don’t want you exhausting yourself.”

How cute they looked. Maybe too cute. Loki didn’t want to be deliberately rude but this little moment was getting a little too sappy for his likings. The God cleared his throat loudly,, bringing both women back to the present moment, “Mind if I take that drink now?”

Maria rolled her eyes, releasing Natasha and stepping back. "Fine, fine. Get him his drink so he doesn't feel neglected," she said, giving Loki a wry smile before pressing a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek.

“The usual?” The redhead asked, not really needing an answer and her nose still twitched a little as she began to pour a dark coloured liquid into a crystallised glass. Oh? He quirked a raised eyebrow in surprise at her remembrance of how he takes his drinks. “Thank you.” Loki smirked before taking a sip of the drink that had been slided infront of him. He would’ve stayed to talk a little longer – truthfully he liked the company of the girls a lot more than he did some of the others – but he was soon whisked away when Thor came over, wearing an alcohol fuelled smile.

“Brother! You came.” He called loudly, raising his glass into the air as he pulled the God away from the bar and towards the group of older men loudly laughing and flaunting their old stories of victory, “You must tell them of our time on Crumelia!” He cheered, referencing the planet the two had visited together a few months prior.

The night wore on with laughter, music, and a myriad of conversations. Loki found himself drawn into Thor's tales of heroism and adventure, the alcohol making the stories more entertaining than he would care to admit. The atmosphere of the party did have a certain charm, he begrudgingly acknowledged.

As the night reached its peak, Loki eventually excused himself from the lively group, citing the need for a moment of solitude. He retreated to a quieter corner of the room, nursing his drink as he observed the chaotic dance floor. The revelry continued around him, but he felt a growing fatigue.

Eventually, the party began to wind down, and guests started to make their way home. Thor had offered out their spare-room for the God so instead of filtering out with the rest of the attendee’s he stayed behind until it was only the Avengers left.

They had huddled into a group now, all nursing their last drinks of the night. Well, nearly all of them. Natasha had already fallen asleep against Maria’s, her mouth hanging slightly open as she snored quietly - much to the earlier vast assusment of everyone at seeing their resident spy finally acting like a true human being for once. Loki couldn’t help but join in as they all continued to laugh and share stories. Of course Thor had brung out his hammer, as he always does, encouraging the others to finally see if they were worthy enough to wield it.

The alcohol that had fueled his earlier enthusiasm now served as a heavy lullaby, coaxing him towards the realm of sleep. The laughter and camaraderie of the Avengers became a distant hum as he excused himself from the group, citing the need for rest. Thor, still in high spirits, clapped a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Rest well, brother! We shall regale you with tales of today's merriment in the morning."

With a nod and a faint smile, Loki made his way to the guest room assigned to him. The Tower, now quieter and dimly lit, felt strangely peaceful. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the remnants of the party.

The bed, though not the grandeur of his Asgardian chambers, looked inviting. Loki undid the clasps of his elaborate attire, letting the green and gold fabric fall to the floor. The room was cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the festivities. Maybe the night hadn’t been so bad after all.

Well. That’s what he thought atleast. Until he woke up the next morning.

Loki awoke to a pounding headache and a throat that felt like it had been scorched by fire. He groaned, burying his face into the pillow as he attempted to ignore the discomfort. The room, once serene, now seemed to spin with every movement.

Still, he dragged himself out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, ignoring the disheveled state of his room. The reflection in the mirror revealed a pale and weary god, a far cry from the composed trickster he usually presented to the world. The remembrance of the previous night’s music and laughter seemed to mock his misery. With each step, he felt weaker, his body aching and chilled and his chest rumbled with a deep, rattling cough. Stupid mortal germs!

He cursed them out, but before he could utter anymore foul words against anyone, his nose itched. A wild tickle, causing his jaw to go slack, fruitless to fight against it, “HAh'tsCHIEW! HHUh-Hah’ESHOO! Heh'gnXNNT! Guh...” He sniffled wetly, grimacing at the feeling of thick congestion already beginning to settle in his sinsues.

As he swayed there in place, contemplating the unfairness of his situation, he was once again helpless to the burning itch in his sinuses. "Hah'KSHIEW!” Ugh, curse these wretched germs," he grumbled, his frustration growing. The once-mighty god now felt as vulnerable as any mere mortal and that alone made him feel 10x worse.

He was Loki! A trickster! A God! And yet here he was, shivering and sniffling through his stuffed up nose like such... such.. such a weakling! With a drasted sigh, he humbled himself and resigned to the fact this was just something he was going to have to get through. He grabbed a box of tissues and blew his nose, the sound echoing in the quiet room making him cringe at himself. He hated this.

Throughout the day, Loki's condition deteriorated further. Sneezes punctuated his every attempt to gather his bearings, each one a reminder of his weakened state. The once proud and regal god found himself reduced to a pitiful figure, wrapped in a blanket on the couch in one of the many communal areas of the the tower, a book in hand, with tissues strewn around him like confetti. His nose was raw from constant wiping, and his eyes were red and watery as he tried to make sense of the words infront of him.

"Hah'KSHIEW! Hhih! Hh..Hah'PTSHIEW! Ugh, this is insufferable," Loki muttered to himself as he turned the page. The trickster god, usually quick-witted and sly, now sniffled pathetically as he tried to regain some semblance of composure. He couldn’t even read properly without having to stop to sniffle every few seconds.

His attempts to use his magic to alleviate his symptoms proved futile. It only left him shivering and exhausted in wake of his efforts. With a final shiver, he sighed and closed his book. He was getting nowhere like this. He needed to sleep.

However it was just as the God resigned himself to the need for sleep, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the quiet tower. Thor, ever watchful of his mischievous brother, entered the room, a concerned expression crossing his face as he witnessed Loki's disheveled state.

"Brother!" Thor exclaimed, his voice a mix of worry and exasperation. "What in the realms has befallen you? You look as if you've faced the wrath of a frost giant!"

Loki glanced up, his eyes weary and red, and managed a weak smirk. "Just a mere inconvenience, dear brother. Mortal germs have decided to wage war on Asgardian immunity.” He sniffled thickly, the act irritating his already rubbed-raw nose, causing it to twitch maddeningly.

“Ha-hh.. Hah'KSHIEW! HhhH’HhtSHH! hh’EKSHIEW! God, fgucking, damn HhH- it! Hhh’TSCHOO!”

The thunder god’s eyes widened in surprise at his brothers outburst, offering out a tissue as he tried hopelessly to clean himself up. “I believe the native curtesy is to say ‘bless you.’” Thor chuckled, extending a firm hand to squeeze Loki’s shoulder, “I’ve also heard about the wonders of tea for these sorts of ailments, I’ll go and prepare some.”

The ever-caring brother, quickly made his way to the kitchen to prepare a soothing cup of tea. The scent of chamomile and honey filled the air as he expertly brewed the remedy. Returning with a steaming mug, he handed it to Loki, his concern evident in his eyes, “Just try some.” He urged.

Loki begrudgingly accepted the tea, the warmth seeping into his chilled fingers. "Fine, fine," he muttered, taking a sip and feeling a slight sense of relief slowly come over him.

"It’s not awful," He sniffled begrudgingly.

Thor grinned, satisfied. "Rest now, brother. Back to bed with you.” He motioned, holding out a hand to pull his brother up from the sofa, making sure he had properly gained his balance before letting go.

Resigned to his fate, the trickster went back to his room and wrapped himself in a thick robe. The fabric doing little to stave off the persistent chill that clung to him so he trudged back to his bed, tissues in hand, and succumbed to the discomfort that accompanied his illness. The room, once filled with the echoes of revelry, was now a silent witness to man’s struggles against the common cold.

#snz #snzkink #snzblr #snzfic #male snz #lo/ki snz #snzario #snz kink #f snz #m snz #snzfucker #snz secret santa #🌻 fic #snzblr secret santa 2023

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themculibrary · 1 year

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Songfic Masterlist

A groovy kind of love (ao3) - S_Horne steve/tony G, 974

Summary: Slow dancing in the kitchen after a hard day at work

All Too Well (Druig & Makkari) (ao3) - camihearts druig/makkari T, 2k

Summary: All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) but make it Druig and Makkari.

Another Love (ao3) - evieeden bruce/natasha M, 1k

Summary: Bruce didn't want to hurt Natasha, but the shadow of Betty was always on his mind.

Dreaming 'Bout The Day (ao3) - tellxmebby steve/tony T, 3k

Summary: Tony/Steve Highschool AU fic based on Taylor Swift's music video "You Belong With Me".

I'll Be the One (ao3) - ConjureUpaSmile steve/tony T, 2k

Summary: “It’s been eight days, Steve.” Tony hardly recognized his own voice as he spoke to the unconscious man. He tried clearing his throat, but the roughness didn’t dissipate. Instead, he began humming. Honestly, he was slightly embarrassed that he even remembered the tune, let alone all the words. It was the song that his father would sing as he searched his Arctic Ocean for Steve’s lifeless body.

“Say something, I’m giving up on you.”

-----

Post-Civil War pseudo-songfic where Tony has a tough decision to make and it doesn't look like Steve is going to make that decision any easier.

It Felt Like Home Somehow (ao3) - orlandoblueberry wanda/vision G, 5k

Summary: After a dinner where the Avengers all come out as Taylor Swift fans, Vision seeks Wanda’s help to understand the appeal of this kind of music. Romance ensues, obviously.

I've Got a Pal in Kalamazoo (ao3) - clokkerfoot steve/bucky G, 1k

Summary: Steve likes the old swing music from the 40s. Bucky doesn’t. But there’s one song that never fails to put Bucky in a good mood, especially when Steve starts singing it in the shower at 4AM.

I was Born Sick (ao3) - HepG2 steve/tony E, 17k

Summary: For all the genius he was, it certainly took Tony a while to learn of this... "sickness" within. He'd liked them on the same team and that wasn't normal. He could fight this, cure this! So he hid, rebelled. First he removed Steve out of the equation. Then he drowned himself in liquor and sex. Just, Steve wouldn't leave him alone. And that made it so much worse. Inspired by Hozier's "Take Me to Church".

Weakly Tony rose, his chin tilted upwards as he claimed Steve’s lips with his. He held onto the warmth, onto the memory. Let him have this. Let him remember the gentle brush of their kiss, the passing breath on his skin.

“You can’t love me, Tony.”

“And you can’t stop me.”

Planets (ao3) - ozhawk jane/thor G, 842

Summary: Thor and Jane songfic to Planets by Short Stack

St. James Ballroom (ao3) - FandomLife54 steve/bucky G, 2k

Summary: Steve is dreaming that he's back in one of the old dance halls in Brooklyn, except Bucky's there and he's asking Steve to dance. Fear-stricken, Steve think's Bucky's insane but he must be, too, because he wants nothing more than to say yes.

“You’re asking me to dance?” His heart skips a beat, fingers twitching at his side.

Bucky snorts. “Well, yeah, that’s what we’ve been practicing all week for.”

“All week...?” Steve squints, his mind foggy. “No, we…” What did they do that week? Steve takes a glimpse around, searching for a clue, when reality drops his stomach from under him. A wave of dread rolls through him, the happy atmosphere oblivious to his mental break. “We practiced so you could come dance with dames. Not me. We- we can’t, Buck, you know that.”

Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch (ao3) - j_gabrielle steve/tony G, 368

Summary: Steve wiggles his eyebrows. Tony frowns, but the corner of his lips are ticking upwards.

The Way I Loved You (ao3) - agayturtle wanda/natasha T, 3k

Summary: “It’s 2am and I’m cursing your name…”

Wanda and Natasha’s relationship didn’t last longer than a couple of months, but Natasha can’t help but wonder if they made the right choice when they ended things.

or The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift but it’s Wandanat.

The World Don't Stop (It's On Again) (ao3) - AngeNoir steve/tony G, 2k

Summary: Tony's used to people - reporters, politicians, internet blogs - deriding him for his faults, because he is less than the hero ideal that came before him. Because he is less than Captain America.

Steve's used to people asking if he's fine, and he's gotten pretty good at lying. He's Captain America, isn't he?

Between the two of them, they know they never became heroes for what people said about them. And that will be enough.

Tie A Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Ole Oak Tree (ao3) - SylntSilver steve/bucky E, 5k

Summary: Bucky is honorably discharged from the war and is on his way home. He is not sure what his reception will be after three years, so in his last letter to Steve, he asked his friend for a favor.

Waiting for Superman (ao3) - CantansAvis clint/natasha T, 2k

Summary: Clint’s missing; but he isn’t the one waiting for Superman.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #songfic #songfic masterlist #masterlists

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movies-for-hack-8d · 2 years

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Top 10 best hacking films of all time | The Daily Swig

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥 The entertainment industry has always been a step ahead of the tech world. No, it's not because movie directors and screenplay writers are smarter than tech founders and startup entrepreneurs. It's because film makers aren't burdened by reality. They can experiment with technology that doesn't exist and even create their own in an effort to bring the story together. However, as history has shown, these films often become the blueprint for cyber criminals looking to mix things up. As silly as it sounds, cybersecurity officials could learn a lot from sitting down with a bucket of popcorn, putting on some comfy pajama pants, and streaming a few of the cyber crime movies we've listed below. Because without a little imagination, the hackers have already won. As one of the first hacking films to hit theaters, Tron piqued the interest of many an aspiring computer programmer in the 80s. But with the main character being launched into a virtual world of light bikes and disk throwing, how can you blame them? Obviously Jurassic Park doesn't come to mind when thinking of cyber crime movies. Angelina Jolie stars in this classic hacker film that brought cyber crime out of the shadows. Between being framed for a hack they didn't commit and enduring that arduous 90s movie music we all remember so fondly, these hackers had their hands full. Will Smith is not the Fresh Prince of anything in this lates cyber crime thriller. After accidentally finding himself in possession of a videotape that could get a congressman in serious trouble, he's the focus of a manhunt that is defined by hi-tech tracking and hacking procedures. Fortunately, he's got Gene Hackman on his side. In a movie defined by its misdirection and deceit, John Travolta, Hugh Jackman, and Halle Berry combine for a thrilling cyber crime movie that doesn't let anyone in on what's going on. Hint: John Travolta is bad. In a year that saw many movie franchises going the way of cyber crime, the fourth installation of Die Hard was no different. John McClane, played by the always amazing Bruce Willis, is faced with a cyber threat the likes of which the world has never seen… except for like every other cyber crime movie. As another movie franchise jumping on the cyber crime bandwagon, Jason Bourne Matt Damon teams up with an investigative reporter to find the people who betrayed him, while a ruthless CIA official and his team continue to track him down in the hopes of assassinating him before he gets his memory back. If you thought Hal was a scary version of artificial intelligence, wait until you see Eagle Eye. After two strangers are forced together by mysterious calls and strange hacks, the Eagle Eye program puts in place a plan to kill the entire leadership system on the United States. A journalist searches for the killer of a woman who has been dead for forty years, with the help of a young female hacker. When they unravel dark family secrets, they must protect themselves. This Swedish language film was remade in English in The film follows the young hacker through his early days at Harvard, which were filled with devious plots in the virtual world. Only a few years late to the cyber crime movie franchise decision, James Bond Daniel Craig must prove he still has what it takes as he tracks down the source of a cyber-terror attack at M16 headquarters and goes up against a genius hacker. As the years go on, it turns out the best hacker stories are the real ones. As perhaps on the most famous hackers in history, Edward J. Snowden, the former National Security Agency contractor becomes disillusioned with the intelligence community and leaks classified information, becoming a fugitive from law and a hero to many. In a movie that makes audience members shake their head for fear of the future, Mae, played by Emma Watson, lands a dream job at a tech company called the Circle. She is soon handpicked by the founder Tom Hanks to participate in an experiment that takes transparency to levels that would make Elon Musk weep. Photo: Snowden Trailer. We're sorry this article didn't help you today — we welcome feedback, so if there's any way you feel we could improve our content, please email us at contact tech. Conor is the Senior Writer for Tech. He's written guest posts for the likes of Forbes, Chase, WeWork, and many others, covering tech trends, business resources, and everything in between. He also cannot pronounce the word "colloquially" correctly. You can email Conor at conor tech. Home News. Tron As one of the first hacking films to hit theaters, Tron piqued the interest of many an aspiring computer programmer in the 80s. Jurassic Park Obviously Jurassic Park doesn't come to mind when thinking of cyber crime movies. Hackers Angelina Jolie stars in this classic hacker film that brought cyber crime out of the shadows. Enemy of the State Will Smith is not the Fresh Prince of anything in this lates cyber crime thriller. Swordfish In a movie defined by its misdirection and deceit, John Travolta, Hugh Jackman, and Halle Berry combine for a thrilling cyber crime movie that doesn't let anyone in on what's going on. Live Free or Die Hard In a year that saw many movie franchises going the way of cyber crime, the fourth installation of Die Hard was no different. Bourne Ultimatum As another movie franchise jumping on the cyber crime bandwagon, Jason Bourne Matt Damon teams up with an investigative reporter to find the people who betrayed him, while a ruthless CIA official and his team continue to track him down in the hopes of assassinating him before he gets his memory back. Eagle Eye If you thought Hal was a scary version of artificial intelligence, wait until you see Eagle Eye. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo A journalist searches for the killer of a woman who has been dead for forty years, with the help of a young female hacker. Skyfall Only a few years late to the cyber crime movie franchise decision, James Bond Daniel Craig must prove he still has what it takes as he tracks down the source of a cyber-terror attack at M16 headquarters and goes up against a genius hacker. The Imitation Game As the years go on, it turns out the best hacker stories are the real ones. Snowden As perhaps on the most famous hackers in history, Edward J. The Circle In a movie that makes audience members shake their head for fear of the future, Mae, played by Emma Watson, lands a dream job at a tech company called the Circle. Share this post facebook linkedin flipboard twitter whatsapp. Did you find this article helpful? Click on one of the following buttons. Yes No. We're so happy you liked! Get more delivered to your inbox just like it. Please fill in your name. Please fill in your email. Please verify before subscribing. Tags Privacy and Security. Conor Cawley ConorCawley. Explore More See all news. Jade Artry - 7 hours ago. Adam Rowe - 2 days ago. Adam Rowe - 6 days ago. Jade Artry - 1 week ago. NordVPN is Tech.

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easespike7 · 2 years

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Where To Seek Out Mosquito Toy

Those poor ratings have been, at the least partly, a result of the fact that Fox decided to air the episodes out of order-an absurd and infuriating choice. But when you are searching for something extra sensible, there's von Slatt's electrical system that, when cranked up, can cure hiccups (or not less than give Rocca a very good shock). Jake von Slatt got here to the fair in HIS steampunk (effectively, his diesel-powered bus). The challenges of steampunk and fantasy turn out to be unbelievable belongings while you add the why not attitude behind the story of the Discover Steampunk exhibit in Idaho. Why is that this in Idaho? Months earlier than the exhibit opened in May 2018, the Museum of Idaho displayed steampunk statues, advertised on billboards, and created occasions in tandem with the exhibit, akin to a steampunk street party and a steampunk ball. The tutorial slant made excellent sense from a museum standpoint-it justified steampunk’s existence, made it useful.

We provide an enormous collection of great steampunk collectibles and house decor that are perfect for surrounding your self with intriguing and entrancing accents that embody the core concepts and values of this wonderful movement! Our steampunk replica guns are modeled after a mix of real firearm design, futuristic fantasy, and antique parts, creating an eclectic mixture of pieces which are good for displaying on your mantel! Identical to an actual scientist in the field, kids must carefully brush and dig away the sand to reveal the hidden items. I'd kinda like a polished brass and aluminium one. I removed the shifters, and all of the cables, after which I eliminated one of many entrance chainrings. If disc brakes are a should for you then the Liv Avail is appropriately specced for your needs, with the AR4 mannequin that includes the ever dependable Shimano Claris groupset. If you are a little extra aware of what you’re after then we’ve put together a guide to the best funds street bikes.

In observe, most complete fastened gear bikes include a flip-flop rear wheel. You’ll want to use the spacer package to get the rear cog aligned with the middle ring on the cranks - it’ll take a couple of tries to get it right. Get into special rubiks cube of putting on protecting glasses each time there's even a small chance of flying mud. The steampunk spirit goes deeper than flying goggles and high hats; it’s about the restoration of values together with etiquette, connoisseurship and individualism. And if a profitable steampunker needs a spot to hold his high hat, there is a steampunk condo for sale in New York City. And yes, my friends, there were steampunk jetpacks. There are solutions for both I count on. There's hope, though. In the process of becoming the first museum to host the exhibit, which was created by Bruce Rosenbaum and is part of Imagine Exhibitions’ traveling exhibits, the Museum of Idaho tackled one of many dilemmas of steampunk: the best way to make the unfamiliar concept accessible to general audiences.

As far as I can tell, the exhibit left the Museum of Idaho in January 2019 and hasn’t opened since. Idaho is thought extra for its potatoes than for its fantasy or steampunk following. Lauren Abbott is Web Mistress for WFC 2020. She is a public librarian, writer, and designer living in Idaho. Jules Verne's "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" is one inspiration behind steampunk. Engineering genius Nemo, the mysterious submarine captain at the guts of Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (1870), provides another template. After riding my SS to assist with the One Is Enough article, BrianW decided to transform his previous 1991 Trek 830 to a SS. I was shocked to seek out out simply what number of great STEM toys are available for kids, and simply how a lot fun a few of these toys appear -- I have to carry myself again for a number of more years earlier than my daughter is previous enough for those GoldieBlox toys! The T3’s Old is, in actual fact, 117mm, but it surely is straightforward enough so as to add a thin washer every aspect to get the precise width.

#3d metal

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secretsofblackthornhall · 2 years

Text

Emma to Bruce

Dear Bruce,

It’s tea time. Now that Jules and I are living in England we are trying to embrace the concept of tea time, though as you already know I prefer to take my caffeine in the form of chocolate. (Unlike Cristina, who is literally addicted to coffee.) Chocolate chip cookies, brownie bars, ice cream—any form of chocolate is welcome and acceptable, and there is excellent chocolate in England. I have become addicted to Galaxy bars.

Julian is outside talking to the contractors — I can see Round Tom waving his arms around about something — so I thought I’d take a moment to fill you in on what happened since my last entry.

If you recall, we found a silver flask at the Devil Tavern that seemed to set off all Ty’s Ghost Detector alarms. It was a beautiful flask . . . etched with flowers and butterfly wings, and the initials MF. We brought it back to Blackthorn Hall and had a look at it in the bright light of day, where I immediately remembered where I’d seen that butterfly design before.

On the Fairchild family ring.

I know this because of Clary. (I don’t spend a lot of time staring at her jewelry, Bruce, but Shadowhunters are pretty into family symbols, generally speaking. And there was that time I borrowed her jacket in Faerie and then went to Thule and everyone thought she was dead because her ring was in the pocket…but that’s a story for another time. I’ve got enough to document in the present.) So Jules and I agreed that whoever owned this flask was likely a Fairchild whose first name began with M. Genius-level Sherlock detecting, I know.

Over a lunch of toasted cheese sandwiches we decided it would be better to do a little more diligent research rather than diving right in and asking the ghost ARE YOU A FAIRCHILD, Y/N. So we sent a fire message to Helen and Aline. There are several old Shadowhunter family histories in the LA Institute library, and we asked them to have a look for Fairchilds who had first names beginning with the letter M. I guess Helen was up early, because she got back to us pretty quickly with a short list of candidates. Medea Fairchild, Myles Fairchild, and Matthew Fairchild. It wasn’t clear from the records whether any of them are ancestors of Clary, but I am curious! (I personally hope Medea is, because that is a badass mythological name.) Anyway it didn’t take us long to nominate a candidate for Owner of the Silver Flask. (Drumroll, please, Bruce.) The candidate is….Matthew Fairchild!

We deduced this because Medea died in 1802 at the age of seventy-eight, and Myles died in 1857 at fifty-nine. So, given the timeframe we’re looking at—Jem said his friends were hanging out at the Devil Tavern during the early part of the last century—Matthew, born in 1886, was the only one who fit the bill. (There wasn’t a death date for him, apparently, which doesn’t mean he lived forever or died at birth, records from around that time tend to be spotty.)

Without further ado, we returned to the dining room to contact our mystery ghost. I swear, even though we’ve swept it multiple times, that room just seems to get dustier and dustier. I’d left some papers from the Blackthorn archives (which is a kind way of saying “from the pile of junk with occasional interesting stuff in it”) stacked on the dining table, and they were all in disarray. It made me wonder if the ghost was trying to read them in our absence.

Julian cleared his throat. “Attention, ghost,” he began.

“Maybe they don’t like being called ‘ghost’,” I hissed under my breath. “Maybe we should refer to them as ‘Deceased Person.’”

“That sounds medical,” said Julian. “Like we’re in a morgue.”

We both became dispirited about the idea of being in a morgue. After a moment’s thought, Julian said, “How about wraith or phantom?”

The curtains stirred even though the windows weren’t open. Apparently phantom was the popular choice.

“Matthew?” I said, slowly. “Matthew Fairchild?”

It’s a nice name, Matthew. I thought about Matthew Fairchild, born in 1886, and wondered what he’d been like. Wondered if all that was left of him was a breath of air stirring the curtains in our dining room.

Though the curtains weren’t stirring right now. They were utterly still.

“Are you Matthew Fairchild?” Jules asked, clearly deciding we needed to be more specific.

The curtains gave what I can only describe as an annoyed little shake. This stirred up some more dust, which made the air hazy. I heard a noise behind me and whirled around. The stack of papers on the table tipped over. Papers were being flung in all directions, by an unseen, angry hand.

“So — you’re not Matthew Fairchild?” I said, fighting the urge to sneeze. “Look, it’s fine if you aren’t — we just want to help — we’ll keep looking —”

The papers stopped flying. The room was quiet again. Hushed, even, like the inside of an Institute. I guessed our phantom friend had departed and I realized I was disappointed. I’d really been hoping we’d find an answer . . .

Then Julian laid his hand on my arm. And pointed. Goosebumps exploded across my skin. In the dust on the floor, an invisible finger was writing words — writing in the old-fashioned cursive that had become familiar since our arrival at Blackthorn Hall.

One by the one, the words appeared, the letters shaky and spiky, as if the ghost were agitated.

Read the diary

The imagine of Tatiana’s diary sprang into my mind. I knew, somehow, that was the diary the ghost was referring to. More words appeared:

READ THE DIARY

“But I have,” I said, without thinking. “I have read the diary.”

Julian turned to look at me, a blank expression of surprise spreading across his face. “Emma,” he said. “What diary?”

#secrets of blackthorn hall #sobh #emma carstairs #bruce #ghosts #julian blackthorn #matthew fairchild

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wkemeup · 4 years

Text

Graveyard

summary: As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too. pairing: bucky x healer!reader word count: 10k warnings: canon level violence

As a child, you were told it was a gift; placed upon a pedestal above the quaint suffering of a rural town and removed of your innocence for the good of strangers. You’d been made to be revered – honored – for the touch that could mend the broken.

It began with a cut upon your father’s finger – a slip of a kitchen knife that had left a small bead of blood in its wake. Curious eyes glanced up at your father as he hissed at the sting of it and you’d reach forward to place your infant hand upon the cut, a grip so mall it barely wrapped around his finger. He stilled as a soft glow began to emit from your palm. When you removed your hand and began to cry, your father was stunned to find his skin perfectly intact – no trace of a scar in its place.

They told you it was a gift, celebrated you as if you were a blessing from Heaven itself. But they were cruel in their rejoice, selfish in their praise. They had not considered your gift was not a gift at all – but a sacrifice.

Like energy, pain could not be destroyed— but it could be absorbed. It could be transferred. Your father’s cut had not simply disappeared, but instead manifested on the finger of an infant for a few short moments before it faded into your skin; laid to rest amongst a sea of foreign injuries that did not belong to you.

“Look sharp, kid! We’ve got incoming,” Banner’s voice startled you from your thoughts as he stood at the doorway to your lab. Arms folded over his chest, an amused smirk upon his face, he must have caught sight of the quinjet landing in the hanger from the windows overlooking the loading dock.

You nodded, setting down the drill beside the stun absorption pad you were engineering for Stark’s newest suit. You didn't have to wonder long who was on the latest mission and currently on their way to your office, because a familiar bickering began to carry down the hall and into the lab, forcing a smile onto your face.

For a mechanical engineer, you saw more of the Avengers post-mission than the med wing did these days. You’d been hired for your multiple PhDs and borderline genius IQ, but once you’d rushed across the room to spare Stark from a rather unpleasant laceration on his palm from an experiment gone haywire, your lab had quickly become a rotating door of injured Avengers.

Sure enough, Barnes and Wilson stumbled their way into the lab, Sam draped over Bucky’s shoulder, barely able to put any pressure on his left leg. While Sam tossed you his charismatic grin and those big, round, puppy dog eyes, Bucky favored to dispose of his partner on the lab table with an aggravated grunt.

“What do we have today?” you smirked, rolling up the sleeves of your coat as Bruce shook his head in amusement.

“Broken ankle, I think,” Sam replied, gesturing to the mess of bandages and improvised splint.

You nodded as you stepped closer, examining the injury before you brushed a hand over the swollen joint. Sam whined at the contact, the pain clearly breaking through the lighthearted grin upon his face though he tried to suppress it. His hand curled into a fist.

“You know I’m not a medical doctor, but I’d have to agree,” you nodded, planting your hands on your hips.

“You could just get the x-rays and go through PT like a normal person,” Bucky grumbled off in his corner of the room, narrowing his eyes in warning upon his partner. “She’s not here as your personal healer, Wilson.”

Bucky was always hesitant of your powers. He never said why, but you wondered most days if he was still seeking penance for the evils he’d committed under Hydra, if maybe he felt as though giving you his pain absolved him in a way he was not worthy of.

Or perhaps it was a degradation of his pride. Men often found strength in their ability to withstand pain. Though, it seemed to bother him when the others would come to you for injuries like this, too, almost as if he worried they were taking advantage of you.

He was a good man; certainly, more concerned with your consent in healing his friends than your parents and the town who spent your childhood exploiting you ever were.

“I don’t mind, Bucky,” you told him, smiling encouragingly back at him until he started to relax his shoulders and uncrossed his arms, softening under your gaze. “If it means less time on the bench and more time out there saving lives and having your back, I don’t mind at all.”

“Yeah, Barnes, who’s going to watch your back if I’m held up in a cast?” Sam teased, chuckling under his breath until Bucky stepped forward and not so subtly bumped his hip to the side of the lab table. The sudden disruption of the table moved his ankle just enough to instantly wipe the grin from Sam’s face.

“Try to relax for me, Sam,” you eased, stepping forward as you started to remove your gloves. You leaned over the edge of the table, slowly removing the splint and the bandage surrounding the swollen muscle. You handed it off to Bucky as you examined the dark purple and blue discoloration on his ankle.

He hissed as you laid your palms on his leg, clenching down on his jaw.

You closed your eyes, concentrating as you felt for the break beneath the surface. A crack splintered through the bone, the surrounding tissue swollen and aching.

A gentle glow began to emit from your palms, a warmth that spread from your hands and directly onto Sam’s skin, through the muscle, and deep into the bone. You could feel the subtle fragments as they began to mend, the swell in his joint as it shrank, the slight movements as he regained feeling.

Exhaling a tense breath, you shifted your stance onto your right leg as the pressure started to build in your ankle. It wouldn’t last long, just a few minutes in comparison to the weeks of treatment and months of physical therapy Sam would have endured – an easy trade for a man who spend his days so selflessly on the line in the service of strangers.

You could sense Bucky watching you and you were careful not to let the pain show on your face. There was a privilege in healing the Avengers like this. It gave your life meaning beyond the injuries of your hometown; of careless teenagers falling off skateboards or angry men in bars who took an argument a drink too far. You’d happily take on a few moments of pain in service of heroes.

Not that you’d let them know.

“You should be good now.” You held your hands up, the soft glow fading away from your palms as you tucked your hands into your pockets. Careful of the momentary break in your ankle, you took a cautious step away from the table to lean on the chair at your desk. No one noticed the wince in your expression as you put the slightest pressure on the fresh injury.

“I will never get tired of that.” Sam looked down at the foot in awe, rolling at the ankle and amazed to find the swelling and bruising disappeared completely. He jumped down from the table, bounding on his feet just to test out the freedom in his mobility.

“Alright, Wilson. Enough,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “You’re going to hurt yourself again and Y/n’s not going to be so generous next time.”

Sam smirked, pausing for a moment as he contemplated. “Nah, my girl will always take care of me. Won’t ya, sugar?”

It didn’t slip your notice when Bucky tensed up at the pet name. You started to laugh, the teasing smile dropping from his face as his hands curled into fists. Sam really knew how to press his buttons and it seemed, surprisingly enough, you were one of them.

“Bucky’s got a point, you know. Fancy healing powers are reserved for field injuries these days.” You were only teasing, both of them knowing you’d have healed a papercut if they’d ask. Still, Bucky smirked, taunting Sam over your shoulder as if he’d won.

You eased yourself off the chair as you started to regain feeling in your ankle, giving more pressure to the heel to find it barely noticeable. You rubbed at the joint with your right shoe to find the swelling had disappeared as well.

A few moments to spare him weeks of pain. Easy trade.

“What about you, Sergeant?”

Bucky paused, raising an eyebrow at you.

You took a step forward, glancing over him in search of injuries. Nothing more than a few cuts that his own advanced healing would take care of overnight. Still, there was one injury you’d been trying to convince him to allow you to heal in the year since you’ve known him.

“You going to let me work on your shoulder yet or are you still being a masochist?”

Sam snickered under his breath as he crossed the room to watch what Banner was doing over his shoulder. Bucky gave you that knowing smile of his, the one that pushed up into his eyes and left behind beautiful creases and lines on his face; an exhale of a laugh on his breath.

“It’s not necessary, doll. I’m fine.”

A frown tugged at your lips. “You always say that, and yet...”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Bucky shrugged. He was watching you with those sweet eyes of his, creating a warmth that spread in your chest entirely independent of the powers in your hands.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it in the first place,” you pressed, a pain in your voice as he placed a hand on your shoulder, letting it slide down your arm. It was an intimate gesture, more contact that he had with most people, and he offered it willingly. You tried not to let the shivers show in your spine as he pulled away.

It looked as though he wanted to say more, but Steve suddenly appeared in the doorway, causing Bucky to take an abrupt step away from you. You hadn’t realized how close you’d been standing to one another.

“Debrief in five,” Steve ordered, eyeing Sam and Bucky, though paused as he saw you, offering a short smile in acknowledgement before disappearing down the hall.

“I’m not letting this go, just so you’re aware,” you teased, pointing at Bucky’s shoulder as he started to wave Sam towards the door. He smiled, keeping his back to you until Sam was clear of the room and he leaned into the open frame, one quick glance back at you.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less, doll.”

***

The next month saw another broken leg, a fractured clavicle, two minor lacerations, a sprained wrist, and a number of superficial cuts – all from various members of the team. Though there was always the one exception who wouldn’t accept your offer no matter how badly he was favoring his right arm.

The clavicle was certainly a challenge to get through, but the world needed Natasha Romanoff in the field, not strung up on a gurney and a brace for a handful of months. It took longer than some of the other injuries to heal, but you’d managed, even if you had to excuse yourself to the restroom as soon as you’d finished, even if you had to shove a towel into your mouth to keep from screaming as it mended itself together under your skin.

The truth was you liked being useful. You liked the stunned smiles on their faces and the appreciation in their eyes. You liked seeing them run a hand over perfectly smooth skin where an open wound had just been. It gave you a purpose.

And sure – your work on SHIELD tech was important and perhaps not all of the injuries in your hometown had been a waste of your abilities, but there was something exceptionally gratifying in mending someone who was untouchable, in healing the people who saved the world.

You’d take a dozen broken clavicles for them.

It was late after your evening shift and you’d taken to running a few laps on the indoor track around the gym. Blow off some steam, use the state-of-the-art equipment Stark spent thousands of dollars on, give your mind something to think about beside how you were going to rewire Sam’s wings to expand in a more fluid motion.

You’d just started to break into a sweat when you noticed Bucky setting up at the row of punching bags. The gym was otherwise empty as the sky favored the stars over the sun, and you started to smile as you watched Bucky shrug off his jacket and drop the bag at his feet. He rolled back his shoulders, concentrating on the bag as he readied his fists. But as the first punch hit the bag, the smile quickly fell from your face.

It echoed up into the rafters, startling you enough to still your sprint abruptly. He let out a grunt as he pummeled at the bag; left jab, right hook, kick, until it broke at the seams and split open to spill sand in heaps upon the ground. He moved on to the next one.

You clasped a hand to your mouth, looking around the gym to confirm you were in fact alone with him. He’d been on a mission as far as you were aware for the last week. You’d missed him hanging around the lab, asking questions as you worked on new advancements on the stun guns for field agents. He must have gotten back a few hours ago and something clearly went wrong.

“Bucky?” you called, voice far too soft to be heard across the gym and above the thunderous clash of his knuckles to leather. You jogged a few paces closer, wincing as he threw the entirely of his momentum into a hit that would have broken an ordinary man’s hand. “Bucky? Are you alright?”

But he didn’t hear you. You took a cautious look back at the doors, wondering if you should go find Steve, or maybe even Sam – someone who might know what happened, someone who might be able to talk him down. But you were the only one around. You cleared your throat, stepping up just behind him.

“Bucky?”

You hit the ground before you knew what had happened.

A blinding pulsing in the back of your head, the wind momentarily knocked from your lungs, you opened your eyes to find Bucky hovering over you. He held a closed fist in the air, the other digging sharply into your shoulder between his grip, pupils blown wide and dark. It took a moment before he seemed to realize who was laying under him.

“Y/n?” He blinked, confused. His stare flickered to the fist held above your head, knuckles dripping red and bloody, and he pulled away instantly, a flash of horror written over his features. “Shit-- I didn’t... What are you doing here?”

You rubbed at the back of your head, brushing over a slight bump that would certainly mend itself within a few minutes. Slowly, you sat up, careful of the sudden darkness that swept over your eyes, though something cool grabbed onto you before you could fall back against the floor.

“Hey, come lean against the wall, okay?” Bucky urged, carefully guiding you to adjust your position until you could press your back to the chill of the plastered walls. You sighed in contentment, the pain in your pain already dissipating. Bucky swallowed nervously. “Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t stay hurt for long, Buck,” you told him with a teasing smile, though he did not return it. You set a hand on his forearm, squeezing it lightly before returning it to your lap. “I’m alright. I promise. Are you?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.

“You were beating that punching bag within an inch of its life,” you clarified, chuckling as you gestured to the exploded bag on the floor, and then to the one still hanging with sand streaming down the seams.

“Rough mission,” was all he said, his eyes downcast.

You nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, listening to the soft buzz of the air conditioner and the faint chirp of crickets outside the windows. You didn’t expect him to say anything. Bucky was a man of few words, but you hoped the company was enough. He didn’t make an effort to move away, not even when your thigh brushed against his.

He was trying to close his fist when you heard him hiss in pain. His right hand was coated in dried blood and fresh, open wounds on his knuckles. They’d barely started to crust over and with every attempt to close his fist, they cracked open, drawing a painful sting in their place.

“Will you let me heal your hand?”

Bucky paused, setting his hand down on his leg. “Y/n, it’s not necessary. I won’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering,” you countered. “Besides, it is necessary, actually. How are you going to punch the bad guys if you can’t close your fist?”

“I’ve got another,” Bucky argued back, though a smile had etched its way onto his face. He raised his left hand, making a show of it as he curled his fingers into a fist one by one. “This one’s pretty indestructible so...”

“Please, Bucky.” You turned towards him, folding your legs as you held out your left hand for him to take. “Just this once. Let me do this.”

A stormy array of ocean blue and thunderous skies stared back at you, unsure. His eyes flickered down to your hand. Always so hesitant to ask for help, always so reluctant to accept the good things when they were offered. But as he watched you, searching for signs to run, to back out, something softened.

He swallowed and slowly, placed his right hand into yours.

You smiled, adjusting your grip gently on his hand. You placed it to lay on you knee as you hovered your left hand over his knuckles. The warm glow illuminated from your palm and Bucky’s breath hitched as he must have felt the sudden rush of energy it produced.

The scars began to mend before his eyes and just as you felt the stinging prick on your own knuckles, you quickly pushed your right hand into the pocket of your jacket to hide the scars as they formed.

“That’s incredible,” Bucky exhaled, withdrawing his hand as soon as you were finished. He held it out in front of him, examining the dried blood coated around perfectly intact skin. He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re incredible.”

A rush of heat burned in your cheeks as you looked away, a smile breaking onto your lips. It was enough to distract you from the stinging in your hand tucked away in your pocket.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” you asked, biting on your lip nervously. “Think you could do with the company and I’d like to keep you from breaking more of these expensive punching bags.”

Bucky laughed at that, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He stood and offered you his hand, thinking out loud about which one of the movies on his list he wanted to try out next. You pulled your hand from your pocket and took his as he offered it to you; the knuckles already clean and healed.

***

“You should see it, Fitz! It’s a goddamn stroke of genius.” You held up the ventilator no bigger than the pad of your thumb up to the light, admiring your work.

“I’m sure Stark will be thrilled,” a thick Scottish accent crackled through the speaker on the com beside you. “Send me the schematics, will you?”

You pursed your lips, a smile etching through. “Think you can one-up me?”

“No never,” Fitz laughed. You could hear him tinkering in his own lab on the quinjet, the small clicks of metal and the buzz of a drill humming over the speaker. “Just want to see if I’m still head of our class or not.”

“Pretty sure we both know that title belongs to Simmons.”

There was a slight pause, then, a dreamy, “yeah, you’re right.”

A sudden knocking at the edge of the lab startled you as you spun around in your chair, nearly dropping the ventilator for Stark’s suit. Bucky stood in the doorway, clutching at his left shoulder as fingers dug into the muscle. He wore a sort of guilty look upon his face though he pushed out a smile and waved.

“Hey, Fitz, I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?” you said over your shoulder to the speaker, waited a moment for his response and ended the call. You turned back to Bucky as a smile grew upon your face. “What can I do for you, Sergeant? I didn’t miss movie night, did I?”

“No, you’re in the clear,” Bucky chuckled, though it was tense. He stepped further into the lab, relaxing a little as he noticed no one else was around. It was pretty late for you to be working, but you were so close to finishing the ventilator, and well, time easily got away from you with Fitz on the other end of the phone.

“Coming to keep me company then?” you teased. “I’m actually about done anyway, so we could set up the next movie on your—”

“No, I— um...” Bucky started, losing his nerve rather quickly. He exhaled a tense breath, eyes casting down to the floor. “I was, um, wondering if you could work on my shoulder?”

You raised an eyebrow. Even after that night in the gym, Bucky was still hesitant to your offers to heal his various injuries from the field. He’d give you that sweet smile of his, a soft pink in his cheeks, and tell you that he’d be fine on his own. You never doubted that, but it didn’t mean you couldn't spare him just a few hours of that pain.

“The, um,” Bucky winced, gritting his teeth as he pushed his hand deeper against the tissue, “the nerve endings are acting up. Shuri said it’s to be, uh, expected given how Hydra butchered my arm all those years ago, but...”

“Come here.” You were already removing the files and paperwork from the table, gesturing for him to take a seat.

His whole left arm was slack at his side as if he could barely tolerate to move it. Shallow breaths hitched in his lungs as he leaned against the table, settling against the hard, metal surface.

“Can you take this off?” you asked, nodding to his shirt. Bucky’s cheeks flushed and you cleared your throat nervously, playing with the ends of your hair. “It’ll be more effective if I can touch the area directly.”

He removed his right hand from the muscle at his shoulder and gripped at the hem of his shirt. Slowly, he started to pull it over his head, though you could tell from the harsh exhale in his breath that it was causing him considerable pain.

“Here, let me help you.” You stepped forward and helped ease the fabric up his torso and gently guided it off his right arm, over his head, and eased it down his left. He seemed more at ease with the shirt removed, but a chill swept up his spine in the cool air of the lab.

You kept your eyes on his, determined not to let your gaze fall to the hardened muscles on his chest and stomach.

“I won’t be able to heal the scars,” you told him as you moved around to stand behind the table. “Just try to relax for me, okay? I’ll do what I can for the pain.”

Bucky nodded, his hands clenched into the lip of the table, enough to warp the surface. He could barely muster out a response.

“My hands are a little cold, so...” you muttered out nervously, rubbing your palms together in an effort to warm them.

Then, you set your hands against the mess of scar tissue surrounding his shoulder, starting at his shoulder blades as the glow illuminated bright enough to light up the corner of your lab. Bucky gasped, the first breath in a long time completely filling his lungs as he felt the relief within your touch. You could practically feel the tension melting off his shoulders.

It didn’t take long before the pain made its way to your body. Starting out slow, in numbing aches, until it was so sharp, it felt like a dozen edges of sharp blades puncturing into your shoulder. You clenched your jaw, held your breath, thankful that Bucky couldn’t see your face when you bit down on the inside of your cheek and tears sprung into your eyes.

“God, that... shit...” Bucky sighed, his grip releasing on the table. You could hear the smile in his voice, the relief, and it helped to push aside the pain as it manifested in your body.

You moved your hand up his back, sliding along the scars where his skin met metal, taking as much of his pain as you could. Bucky was exceptionally strong, able to withstand far more than you could without passing out completely. You couldn’t take it all, especially if you wanted to keep him from knowing how your gift truly worked, but you took enough.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, preparing yourself as you moved around to face him. There was more on his chest, by his clavicle, you couldn’t reach from behind him. You'd had years of practice, learning how to keep the pain from displaying on your face. You could get through this for him.

As you stepped in front of him, keeping a steady hold on his shoulder, you could feel his eyes watching you. The glow under your palms was bright enough to illuminate the lab, but it was a gentle light, as soft as the burn of a candle or the golden rays of a sunset. Bucky watched you with a kind of awe that made your stomach twist into knots.

You guided your hand along the scar tissue on his chest, doing your best to ignore the goosebumps as they rose in your wake. Your heart was stammering, louder than the pain radiating in your shoulder, though it lessened the more you worked. The pain had nearly left him entirely as he started to take in more even breaths, relaxing his muscles as you felt them soften under your touch.

You exhaled a tense breath through your nose, concentrating on gathering as much of the pain as you could, on mending the broken nerve endings as they misfired and frayed under the torn appendage. You barely noticed as Bucky crossed his right hand over his chest and laid his hand palm against your hands.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his fingers curling around the undersides of your hands until he gently tugged them away. The glow faded until the lab was only lit by the soft light of the lamp at your desk and the reflection of the moon peering in through the window.

You met his eye, the pain still prominent in your shoulder though you forcibly softened the clench in your jaw as he looked over you. His eyes flickered down to your lips for only a second, but it was enough. Your heart skipped.

Bucky slowly released your hands, letting them fall gently against his thighs, as he leaned forward to cup the sides of your face. Fingers tangling into your hair, you stepped closer, pressed against the table between the parting of his legs.

You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was racing, or if he could hear it, because you were certain it was going to beat straight out of your chest. The fading pain in your shoulder you’d taken for him was nothing but a forgotten memory as he pressed his forehead to yours, just waiting.

The moment his lips touched yours, you lost your breath; fireworks and butterflies, twists in your stomach and clamoring in your heart. You could feel his smile as it spread into his cheeks, your hands seeking more of him as you slid them up the sides of his bare chest. He was beautiful and perfect and so incredibly wonderful, you’d take hours of his pain, years even, if you could keep kissing him like this.

“Hey, Y/n, I thought you were already done for the—oh, sorry!”

You jolted away from Bucky, restless and a little disheveled, Bucky’s cheeks flamed red, as you turned to find Banner standing awkwardly in the doorway. His hand was shielded over his eyes, his back quickly turned to you as papers littered the floor at his feet. You started to laugh, hand clamping over your swollen lips as you looked over at Bucky.

“It’s no worry, Bruce,” you giggled, quickly skating over to the door to help him pick up the files. Bucky meanwhile shrugged his shirt back on, fixing the flyaways in his hair.

“So sorry,” he mumbled again, clearly embarrassed by his intrusion as he glanced over at Bucky apologetically. He gathered the papers into his arms. “I’ll be going now and, um, I won’t come back, okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Bucky’s eyes blew wide in Banner’s quick escape.

“Still want that company?” you offered with a smile, extending your hand to him. The pain was long gone from your shoulder as he shook himself from the flush in his cheeks and nodded. He took your hand and led you down the hall to the living room. There was another movie on the list to get through.

***

You couldn’t remember the last time you were this happy. Your cheeks began to hurt from how often you were smiling, as if it were a permanent fixture on your features. You’d even caught yourself humming along to the radio as you dusted the surfaces in your lab the morning after Bucky had kissed you goodbye on the landing dock in front of at least a dozen agents.

He’d been away on a mission for the last few days, but he called when he could. You’d spend whatever spare minutes he could get on the satellite phone with him, distracting him from whatever was going on in his end of the world with talk about your latest project with Stark or old stories from the academy with Fitz or what the next movie on the list was going to be.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but you liked knowing he was on the other end of the line. You could picture his smile perfectly in your mind, the way he chewed on his lower lip, how his eyes fell downcast to the floor by your shoes, the flush of pink in his cheeks. It was enough.

“So, things are really heating up with you and Barnes,” Natasha commented as she sipped the top of her steaming coffee before it could spill over the edge. You shrugged, though it was hard to contain your smile. Natasha grinned. “I think it’s good for him. You, too. Don’t know the last time I’ve seen him this happy. He seems more relaxed. Like maybe he’s not carrying the whole world on his shoulders anymore.”

“Helps when he’s not in excruciating pain on a daily basis,” you added, tapping at your left shoulder. He’d let you work on it a few times since that first night. It always took some convincing, but the pain was never as bad as it was that evening. You could take it. You’d do it a thousand times for him without question.

Natasha nodded, a pleased look upon her face. She parted her lips to say more, but a sudden commotion at the end of the hall stole the words from her tongue. You set your coffee down on the counter, peering out around the tables to find agents jumping out of the way of an oncoming train.

“Y/n!” Bucky shouted, voice breaking in the effort as he sprinted down the hall and slammed into an unsuspecting agent. Papers flew into the air as he sprinted towards your room. “Y/n!”

“Bucky?” you called stepping out into the hallway where he could see you.

He skidded to an abrupt stop, his hair flying over his shoulder as he turned in your direction.

“Y/n! Thank God.”

It wasn't until Bucky stood in front of you that you realized he was covered in blood; soaking into his hair, caked under his finger nails, drenched into his suit, and stained to his skin. Your eyes widened, breath all but leaving your lungs, as your hands clutched against his jacket. He tried to pull you back towards the stairs, but you couldn’t budge, not with that much blood all over him.

“What-- What happened? Are you hurt?” You started seeking out exposed skin an effort to draw away any pain you could, even if you couldn’t see any exposed wounds.

Bucky's hand slid over yours, pulling it away. He softened, though you could still see the frantic rise and fall of his chest.

“It’s not my blood. It’s Steve’s.”

Your stomach sank; relief mixed into an ugly shade of guilt and grief. Natasha was already sprinting down to the med bay, coffee mug cracked and spilled upon the tile floors. Her footsteps echoed through the hallway, the sudden clanging of the double doors startling you from your daze.

“Please, I—I need you,” Bucky begged, his voice shaking. Tears were burning in his eyes. You’d never seen him this afraid; this shaken and helpless. “It’s not good, Y/n. He’s-- He’s--”

“Okay.” You pressed a hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb sweetly across his face and smeared the tears as they cleaned the dried blood away. You didn’t need to hear anymore. All you wanted was to take his pain, even if your gift couldn’t touch it as it nestled deep into his heart.

By the time you reached the med bay, a storm of chaos had already barreled through. Lab equipment was knocked over on its side. Dozens of agents frantically running around, shouting orders at one other. Papers and schematics lined the floor with imprinted of boots damaging the print. But it was the trail of blood that drew your attention.

Droplets trailing from the loading bay of the jet to down the med wing to the surgical room. Dark red and oozing. Taunting. Far too much for any ordinary man to have lost. You tried to stifle the gasp as it hitched in your breath the moment you saw him.

Steve was strung up on a gurney, suit cut down the middle and flayed open, exposing his chest and the three bullet holes expelling pints of blood. The hands of several agents were pressing down onto him, trying to keep pressure on the wounds, deep red slipping out from between their fingers. The look on their faces said enough – he wasn’t going to make it.

“Where’s Helen?” you gaped, staring at Steve.

“Ten minutes out.” Tony stumbled into the room as he rounded the corner, holding a stat phone in his hand. “She’s in the chopper.”

“He can’t wait ten minutes.” Bucky gripped tight to you hand and you could feel the tension radiating in his muscles. You wanted to take it for him but he pulled his hand before you could, turning to face you. “You’re all we have. Y/n, please. I can’t lose him.”

Bucky had never once asked you to heal someone like this. He could barely muster the will to ask you to heal his own wounds, to ease the constant stream of pain in his shoulder, and the open wounds on his hand. But with Steve’s life in the balance, he didn’t have room to be hesitant anymore. He couldn’t risk his best friend’s life.

But he didn’t know it would risk yours in the process.

You swallowed, glancing back nervously at Steve. “I’ve never healed anything this bad before, Buck. I don’t know if I can--” survive this.

Could your body heal fast enough to take on his injuries? Could you do them one by one? Would he live long enough to even try? Would either of you?

“Y/n, please. He’ll die without you,” Bucky begged, his voice wavering. Tears reflected in his eyes; gentle pale blue obstructed by a swarm of fear and guilt and desperation, a redness straining into the surrounding white until his cheeks were wet. The dried blood cleared in streaks as they traveled down to his jawline.

You watched him as he bit down onto his lip, shielding his face from the others as he waited. The frantic beeping of the monitor strapped to Steve’s chest was growing frantic, irregular, and you knew there wasn’t much time left.

The worst you’d ever attempted to heal before had been the stabbing of a stranger. You’d found her clutching stomach in an abandoned alleyway in Queens, contents of her purse spilled to the pavement, jewelry torn from her neck. You'd knelt down beside her and took her pain without so much as a second thought.

As her wound began to close, your skin split open, blood soaked into your shirt, your vision grew dark and hazy, until it was nothing at all.

The last thing you remembered of that night was the horror in the woman’s eye as she scrambled away from you and ran back to the safety of the open streets. You woke in a pool of your own blood hours later – longer than it had ever taken to heal before.

A scar remained on your stomach from that night. The only one on your body. A warning.

Test the limits of your gift again and learn why it’s called a sacrifice.

But as you looked back at Bucky, at a man who never dared to ask you for anything until it was unbearable, who wore his own scars and healed his own injuries in fear of exploiting your gift, who was impossibly gentle for the evil he was surrounded in for decades – you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no. You didn’t want to.

Bucky must have noticed the change in your expression because his shoulders softened immediately, a heavy sigh sinking through his body. He pushed forward and pressed a quick kiss to your lips; short, chaste, and still—filled with a world of emotion, of gratitude, of relief. It gave you the courage to do what needed to be done.

Tony began to shout for the room to clear the moment you approached the table. You stared down at Steve, whose skin had grown nearly translucent, the monitor above displaying his heart beat as it evened out to a nearly thin line. He was fading fast. You wouldn’t have much time.

Everything around you became muted, distorted, as you channeled your focus; the huddled whispers of the agents hovering over Steve with their hands pressed to open wounds sounded as if they were miles away.

Bucky stood at your side, watching anxiously though he tried his best to remain stoic and unaffected, though you knew he was splintering apart at the seams. Natasha and Sam were huddled in the far corner, talking quietly amongst themselves as they tried to put the pieces together as to what happened out in the field. Tony was shooing away stay agents with the threat of force, while Banner did his best to remotely disengage the power on Tony’s glove.

None of it registered. Not beyond the flow of blood coating Steve’s chest and dripping onto the floor, your shoes stepping into the pool below. It was a miracle he was still alive at all. The serum was the only thing tying him to this Earth.

You stretched out your hands, hovering over his chest and the agents quickly dispersed. You didn’t dare steal a glance in Bucky’s direction as the glow began to emit under your palms, afraid he might see the goodbye in your eyes or the apology for what he was about to witness. There wasn’t time.

The pain was sudden. Sharp. Like you’d felt the bullets rip straight through you as if you stood on the battlefield in Steve’s place. You cried out at the impact of it, nearly thrown from your stance as you clutched into Steve’s body.

Bucky jolted beside you, startled as you cried out again, desperate to choke down the screams before they passed your lips. He stared at you, wide eyed, as you clenched your jaw.

“Y/n? Are you—”

Another scream tore through you and Bucky visibly flinched. You didn’t have the energy to hide the pain from him, not with three bullets tearing through you. You had to save Steve; put the full force of your power into healing his wounds before they consumed him whole. Damn the consequences. Damn the sacrifice of your gift.

Your body was always meant to be the host of broken bones and bullet wounds and bruises. Made to be broken and mended. A host to others. A graveyard of injuries that did not belong to you.

It was what your parents had told you from the time you were a child; that you were a gift to others, that you were a vessel to better the world. But it came at a price; one, it seemed, you’d soon enough pay.

Your legs began to shake as a wave of darkness cast over your vision, tunneling, consuming the space around you. You could only vaguely make out Bucky’s voice calling your name, his tone laced confusion and concern, but you blocked it out. Daring to look in his direction now would only hinder your resolve and you needed to save Steve’s life.

Concentrating your power, a scream ripped through your lungs as the glow illuminated the entire room, enough that Bucky was forced to shield his eyes.

The wounds were taking hold on your body. One at your stomach. Another along your ribs. The third, just above your chest. Exit wounds opening on your back. You could feel the drip of blood as it slid down your skin; thick and unrelenting.

You were growing light headed as the pain started to dissipate. But the wounds were still fresh on your body, still open and bleeding; the pain shouldn’t have faded so quickly.

The steady beep of the monitor indicated that Steve was stabilizing, the flesh had nearly closed, and you barely registered Helen’s voice as she rushed into the room, ordering her team to take over.

“Hey, hey, you did it, sweetheart. You did good,” Bucky exhaled. He had the most beautiful smile on his face; filled with a sense of pride an awe, stunning and handsome beyond belief, even with traces of concern still evident in his eyes.

But you were stone. A statue. You couldn’t move without fear of collapsing completely.

“He’s stable now, Y/n,” Bucky eased, trying to pull you gently away from the table. “Come here, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Bucky hand set against your stomach when you didn’t follow and he froze; the sticky wet residue of fresh blood on his hand. He stared down at his palm in horror as the blood began to seep through your shirt in three distinct spots, all perfectly aligning with the ones on Steve’s chest.

Bucky darted forward, pushing up your shirt to find the wounds he’d seen healed on his best friend moments ago littered over your stomach. His mouth went dry, throat lined with sandpaper, rocks shoved down into his lungs. His hand trembled as it reached out and touched the bullet wound on your ribs. His breath hitched as he felt the warmth of blood and the tear of flesh in your skin.

He couldn’t breathe.

“Is Steve alive?” Your voice was barely a whisper and you wondered if Bucky could even hear you at all. His eyes were glossed over in fresh tears, lips parted in shock as he stared back at you. You could hardly keep your eyes open.

Before he could respond, your legs gave way and you stumbled back out of Bucky’s hold. Your vision was closing in, a dark cloud of black swarming around you as your foot caught on the edge of toppled lab equipment. You were in Bucky’s arms again before you made it to the floor.

You didn’t hear him screaming for help, didn’t hear the shattering crack in his voice, or the crash of equipment behind you as Simmons raced into the room. You didn’t feel his hands as they desperately pressed onto the open wounds, or the heat of his breath as he begged you to ‘stay with me, sweetheart’. But you felt the warmth of his embrace.

It was comforting as the darkness pulled you under.

***

A heaviness draped over you. Soothing. Pressing you into the soft cushion below. A repetitive chime rang above; even in tone, consistent. It drew you back from the kind embrace of shadows, calling you toward a flicker of light.

Pressure squeezed at your hand. Cold and warm at once. Solid and soft.

You listened for the chime; allowed it to guide you as the rest of your senses awakened.

The chatter of voices in the distant too muffled to distinguish. The distinct smell sterilizing alcohol that burned in your nose. The heat of a thick blanket tucked around your legs. The chill of a breeze streaming from the humming vent above. Scratchy bed sheets and laundry fresh clothes a few sizes too big for your frame.

You groaned, trying to adjust to the influx of light as you opened your eyes. It was a room you recognized. White. Clean. Far too bright. You’d been within the walls dozens of times before, but never laid upon the bed. It was a strange view.

Glancing down, you found yourself dressed in a dark grey t-shirt that didn’t belong to you. The logo was faded on the chest but it was still recognizable. Vintage. An eagle at the center of a circle, it’s wings remarkably similar to the symbol of the Howling Commandos. Around the edge: Strategic Scientific Reserve. You’d seen Bucky wear it until the hem frayed. Sure enough, as you reached for the bottom of the shirt, you found the split seams.

A slight squeeze on your hand again drew your attention to your right. There, you found Bucky hunched over the side of the bed; both hands encasing yours, his forehead rested on the very edge of the mattress.

A smile tugged at your lips until it started to ache. Unused muscles, must be. You wondered how long you’d been out this time. Must have been longer than a few hours. Bucky’s back would need your attention after the way he’s been sleeping.

“Bucky,” you tried to call, but found your voice was nothing more than a breath of air. You winced, testing it again. “Bucky?”

He only hummed in response. The sweet vibrations nestled against your arm. It took him a minute as he lifted his head, stretched out his upper back, matted hair fallen down into his face, before he caught your eye; glancing around the room, checking the door, the heart monitor above, like it had become routine, until he realized you were watching him.

He froze, eyes wide. “Y/n?”

You nodded sleepily, pushing out a smile. “What’d I miss?”

Bucky didn’t laugh. His hands were still gripped tight to yours, squeezing at them as if he were checking to make sure you were real.

Your smile began to fall the longer he stared at you. “How long was I out? Is Steve okay?”

Bucky cleared his throat, nodding, though it seemed strained. “Y-yeah, Steve’s fine. Doc said he’d make a full recovery thanks to you.”

“That’s good,” you replied, but Bucky couldn’t so much as force a smile. He couldn’t seem to look at you, his hands playing with the lines in your palms. It was then you started to notice the dark circles under his eyes, the wrinkles in days old clothing, the hallowed look upon his face. Your stomach sank. “How long was I out?”

Bucky’s paused for a moment, his movements stilling as he traced your lifeline. He sighed, resuming again. “Six days.”

“Oh.”

A silence swept over the room. You’d never been under that long before. Frankly, you were a little surprised you woke up at all given the extent of Steve’s injuries. Your fingers dipped under the hem of Bucky’s old t-shirt and grazed over the bullet wound on your ribs, feeling for the raised edges of a fresh scar. It didn’t heal, as you suspected the others hadn’t; laid to rest next to the knife wound from the woman in the alley. Injuries you were never meant to survive.

“Were you ever going to tell us?”

You looked up, startled by Bucky’s voice as it wavered. He brushed at his eyes; red and glossy.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“No,” you admitted and Bucky’s shoulders slumped. He sank back further into his chair and you could read the disappointment on his face. You gritted your teeth, preparing to deliver the same speech you’d been telling yourself for years. “My body could handle it, Buck. It was only a few minutes of pain to trade for weeks or months of your own. It kept you in the field and off the bench. The world needs you guys. It was worth it for me. I could handle it.”

“Until you couldn’t!” Bucky snapped, startling you as he tugged his hand from your grasp and began to pace around the room. His fingers raked into his hair, gripping at unwashed strands. “You almost died, Y/n! You almost died because I fucking begged you to use your powers to save Steve and I—Jesus, Y/n — if I had known what it does to you, I never would have asked you to do that!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” you replied gently, wanting nothing more than to ease him. Bucky shook his head, unwilling to accept your answer. “Bucky, if you knew that healing a papercut hurt me, you wouldn’t let me do that either.”

He paused; arms folded over his chest though he wouldn’t look at you. “No, I wouldn’t.”

You softened, sitting up in the bed, though a dull pain rushed made it rather difficult, leaving you to clutch at your stomach. It ached as you moved, an unfamiliar feeling, and the tension quickly faded from Bucky’s shoulders when he heard you whine.

You pushed through the pain in your stomach, holding up a hand as Bucky started to step forward to help you. It would fade. It always does. You’d heal and move on, until the next injury came through. It was routine. It was your life.

So, you told him as much.

“I’d do it again.”

Bucky frowned. He looked like he wanted to just lay on the bed beside you, curl up against your chest and sleep. He was exhausted. And still—he couldn’t let it go.

“You almost died—”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“A sacrifice?” Bucky’s face contorting in horror. “Are you insane? You're not a sacrifice, Y/n!”

You nodded, determined; the words of your parents, the village elders, ringing in your ears. “That what this gift is, Bucky! I can’t actually heal anyone other than myself, but I can transfer the injuries and the pain to my body. That I can heal. It’s what I was born for! It’s my purpose. I was made to be a sacrifice.”

“Not for me!” Bucky held his ground, voice firmer than you’d ever heard it. “Nothing is worth that to me! Do you understand that? I won’t trade your life for anyone’s, not even Steve’s, and I sure as hell don’t care how many bones I break or how bad the nerves in my shoulder misfire. I won’t put that on you again. The team won’t either.”

You clenched your jaw, heart starting race. No one had ever challenged you on this before. No one had ever questioned whether your gift should be used at all. No one ever seemed to care of the effect it had on your body, never thinking to look past the extraordinary abilities to the mutilation under the surface.

No one until Bucky.

You curled your hands into the thin sheets at your waist. “Bucky, don’t be ridiculous. I’m saving you all from weeks of unnecessary healing. I can handle the pain. It’s an easy trade for—”

Bucky’s fist met the wall. “You’re worth more than just a vessel for our pain, Y/n!”

“What the hell is going on in here!?” Helen Cho rushed into the room, eyes darting between Bucky standing by the corner of the room, shaking out his hand, and you as you laid in the bed at the center, the heart monitor above pulsing far too quickly.

Bucky seemed to notice the frantic beeping of the monitor and the anger quickly drained from his face.

Helen glared at him as she stepped closer to you, beginning to check your vitals. “You should leave,” she shot over her shoulder. Your stomach twisted to knots as Bucky nodded defeatedly and walked to the door.

“No, don’t--” you called, voice small, nervous. He paused in the frame, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Please, Bucky. Stay.”

Helen set a hand on your shoulder as if to ask if you were sure. You nodded.

“You may be able to heal yourself, but you’re still recovering,” Helen advised, tapping on the IV drip. “Take it easy, alright?”

Bucky remained stoic by the door after Helen left. He didn’t say anything for a while, his eyes focused on the tile floors at his feet, waiting until the heart monitor chimed in even, steady counts.

“Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. It got him to look at you, at least. While he couldn’t muster a smile, it was clear he was drained of the anger that had quickly taken hold of his body; anger that was never once reserved for you, but for the voices in your head that deemed you unworthy of more than a body to be used by others.

Bucky sank into the chair at your bedside.

“When’s the last time you slept, Buck?”

He stayed silent. It was enough of an answer. You didn’t dare ask the last time he left this room, not with the shiny reflection at his roots and the red strained in his eyes. Six days at your bedside, hunched over on a cold, unforgiving chair, clutching your hand. It ached deep into your bones.

“I mean what I said,” Bucky mumbled, slowly brining himself to meet your eye. He reached out for your hand, letting the comforting chill of solid metal lay below as the warmth of flesh and muscle laid on top. He brought your fingertips to his lips and gently kissed at your knuckles.

You sighed at the feeling. “Bucky, I...”

“You’re more important to us than your abilities,” he pressed, a sincerity behind his words and laced delicately into sweet shades of blue. “You do a lot of good to keep us safe with the tech you’ve been building and the adjustments to the suits. You’re incredible at what you do, Y/n. Your worth isn’t based on how many injuries you can heal or how much pain you can handle. We care about you. I care about you. Isn't that enough?”

You didn’t know.

You’d never known anyone to prioritize you over your gift. You parents had exploited it from the moment it was discovered your ability; showing you off, treating you as an idol to be worships and adorned. They put their child through broken bones and lacerations and asthma attacks. They sat back and watched as you healed strangers of arthritis and sprained ankles and migraines. Their child cried as they collected their winnings.

Were you afraid it would happen again? Is that why you kept it from the team? From Bucky? You’d convinced yourself it was noble to silently suffer in their place, but you started to wonder if it amounted to little more than your parent's words whispered into your ear: your ability is a gift to the world, a sacrifice unto yourself.

“Would you ask any of us to suffer in your place?” Bucky questioned, drawing you from the mess inside your head with the gentle vibration in his voice.

“I just want to help you...” you murmured, tears slipping past your cheeks.

Bucky reached forward and brushed the tears as they fell, sliding his hand against your cheek and nestling against your hair. You leaned into the touch.

“So, we find a middle ground, okay?” Bucky offered, smiling enough to push into his cheeks, though his eyes were still heavy. “No trivial injuries. No life-threatening injuries. We take the stuff in-between case by case.”

“Your shoulder,” you added, determined. Buck started to shake his head but you pressed harder. “Five minutes of pain to spare months of yours, Bucky. No lasting damage. Don’t argue with me on this one.”

It brought the smile back to Bucky’s eyes as he eventually nodded. You knew he had no real authority to decide what injuries you could and couldn’t heal, but you’d never had anyone who dared to put you first. You trusted him to do that; you trusted him more than yourself, anyway.

“We decide the rest together,” you told him. “I get the final say but... I need you to tell me if I’m pushing it too much, but I won’t be too cautious, either. No discriminating against Sam.”

“No promises,” Bucky chuckled, playing with the ends of your hair dreamily. “The other stuff I can deal with.”

“Okay,” you exhaled, relief sweeping through your body.

“Okay.”

“Think I’ll be lucky if anyone on the team even lets me touch them for a few months after this ordeal, though, huh?” You laughed and though it ached in your stomach, it was considerably less than it was moments earlier. You didn’t mind the dull pain. It was familiar, almost a comfort. Steve was alive because of it.

“Yeah, can’t say anyone was thrilled to find out how your powers actually worked,” Bucky chuckled. “But they’re happy you’re alright. I’m sure Steve will be, too. He was pissed when he woke up and learned what you did.”

You clenched your jaw. “Never good to be on Cap’s bad side...”

“No, it’s not,” Bucky agreed, wide smile pressed to the back of your hand, his lips touching over exposed skin. “He doesn’t like when anyone else pulls a self-sacrificial move. It’s kinda his thing. Diving into the Atlantic and all. We don’t really need two of you running around...”

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, swatting Bucky away. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, the pain in your stomach long forgotten, or maybe it had finally healed. You supposed it didn’t matter.

They were scars that would never heal. Like the knife wound. Like mesh of hardened tissue around Bucky’s shoulder, stretching out onto his chest and back. Reminders of when you were too both close to the edge, to the brink of darkness. Reasons to push back towards the light.

read the sequel here!

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader

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spideyyboii · 3 years

Text

Secret Santa

pairing: the avengers, natasha romanoff x bruce banner

summary: The Avengers are an odd mix of people who rarely spent time with one another outside of missions, so Natasha decided to they would be doing secret santa

warnings: none

word count: 1.7k

||main masterlist||the avengers masterlist||christmas masterlist||

The Avengers were an odd mix and they didn’t really have much in common so whenever Christmas came about they were quick to avoid one another fearful that they would have to buy one another presents. So when Natasha decided the team would be participating in secret santa none of them were very happy, “Natasha darling, we’ve been friends for a long time and we’ve never bought each other gifts so what on earth would I buy for the rest of the team.” Clint said nervously, hoping she wouldn’t be annoyed with his hesitation. “Clint we’ve been a team for years and every Christmas we avoid one another and run away. So this year we’re going to use Christmas Eve as a day to celebrate Christmas and we will be spending time together with presents and food, understood.” Nat stated leaving no room to argue.

She was quick to pull a hat from behind her back that was filled with the names of those in the room. “Now everyone picks a name. At this point we should know what our team members are into.” She went on hoping that this plan worked. The team were quick to pick a name, some were happy about who they got and others weren’t too pleased. “So time for the rules; no trading who you picked, no telling anyone who you picked and you can’t buy anything over $50 the gifts need to be sentimental or something that the person will enjoy.” Nat went on making the team groan as they weren’t expecting to be forced to take this seriously. “Natasha, why must you make this so difficult for us?”

Each one of the Avengers struggled to find a meaningful present for the person they’d chosen. The team didn’t necessarily have much in common other than their determination to keep the world safe. Tony was the first to go shopping for his secret santa, he’d chosen Thor which made things surprisingly easy as the God was still struggling with how Earth worked and the way to behave. “Romanoff what was the spending limit again, I’m out shopping for the person I chose and I think I’ve found the best gift but I don’t want to break your rules.” He asked, “$50, what are you getting?” Nat asked hoping that he would spill and give her a hint as to if he had picked her. “Oh nothing important, good luck with finding a gift for Bruce, maybe you can get yourself a little something for yourself he might like that more.” The billionaire said with a smirk before he hung up leaving the redhead confused.

Steve was worried about who he picked; he didn't want to mess up and upset the person he chose by getting them a bad gift. So he began shadowing them so he could find out what their hobbies were. “Steve go away, I’m trying to work. If you need help with what to get me ask Bruce he knows me pretty well.” Tony said whilst waving Steve out of his lab. The super soldier was quick to hunt the other genius down to see if he could make any suggestions, “Bruce I’m about to break the rules of secret santa but I got Tony and I have absolutely no idea what to get him all he does is work.” Steve ranted stressed about annoying Tony.

“Nat, do we have to spend the full amount or could we spend half and then maybe make something?” Clint asked, “Clint you can buy whatever if it’s under $50, if you want to spend $25 and then make something else you can, why what does this person mean to you for you to be making something?” Nat questioned hoping Clint would slip up as the other two hadn’t, “Don’t you worry Nat I’m sure whoever picked you is going to get you something amazing. Speak to you later.” Clint quickly got to work getting all the necessary items for a scrapbook. His only worry was if he’d be able to complete it in time.

Bruce was on the lucky side of secret santa he chose Clint who happened to be his partners best friend which meant he knew enough about him. “Hey honey how’s your secret santa going?” Natasha asked “Good I bought mine the same day you made us pick out the hat. It was pretty easy.” He replied happy that he didn’t have the stress of last minute shopping.

Thor was extremely stressed from the second he picked his secret santa, “Lady Jane, what’s the best thing to buy for a woman?” The God asked, “Depends on what they do, if you were buying me something I would want it to be related to science.” Jane said, which gave Thor the perfect idea. He knew exactly what his secret santa needed. “So let’s say they had just gotten into a relationship. Do you think they’d maybe want a weekend away for two?” He asked not realising that Jane thought he was talking about their relationship.

Natasha was beginning to hate her idea of secret santa as she didn’t know what to get Bruce, she was worried he’d hate what she picked for him and then broke up with her. She knew he was into science but she didn’t want him to think she only saw him as a scientist so she got to work in finding the best possible present for him.

Receiving Presents:

Steve gave Tony his present first hoping that the billionaire would appreciate what he had gotten him. When the billionaire made no sound Steve began to panic, “So I got you this because you never take any time off work so I thought you could take Pepper away for the weekend and have a little time to yourself.” The soldier rambled hoping Tony would talk, “Roger’s thank you I think I’ll be able to get back into Pepper’s good books with this.” Tony gave the super soldier a quick hug and sat back down.

Thor received his present next and was happy with what he had been given, Tony had convinced Fury to take Thor off missions for two months so he could go back to Asgard with Jane. “Stark thank you so much I’ve missed Asgard massively but I didn’t want to let the team down.” Thor said happy that he could see his friends and family again. Clint was extremely nervous to give Steve his gift as he wasn’t sure how he’d take it, “So Steve I’m really worried to give this to you as I’m not sure how you’ll feel.” He explained as he passed the wrapped present to the super soldier, “Oh Clint this is wonderful, where did you find all these old photos?” He questioned, slightly confused, “I may have broken the rules and recruited a certain Carter to help me. I also may have broken into the shields original headquarters and stolen some files. If you don’t like it then I can always get something else but I went down the sentimental route.” Clint explained nervously, “No Clint it’s amazing thank you, I haven’t seen half these photos before, guys look” Steve said handing the book to Tony so he could look at old photos of his dad, the super soldier was quick to pull Clint into a hug.

Bruce went next and was quick to give his present to Clint and move back to Natasha, after the gift Clint made for Steve he knew his would be disappointing “After what you did for Steve I know that this won’t be as good but I hope you still like it, thought it was something you could do with children.” Bruce said nervously. Clint was quick to open the present and he couldn’t help but smile, “Bruce thank you. You must have heard me complaining about not being able to spend the time with the family. With this I can take them out for the day and be focused solely on spending time with them.” Bruce had bought Clint a family pass to disney world so he could pretend to be a normal father for the day. He may have broken the spending rule but it was worth it to see Clint happy.

Natasha was next to receive her gift and was worried about what it could be. Thor didn’t really understand women so the redhead was concerned about what he could have gotten her, “So I asked Lady Jane for help with what to get a woman, I’m hoping you enjoy it Natasha.” Thor said full of nerves, “Thor it’s lovely thank you! I can’t believe you did this. I guess you understood what I was trying to do with secret santa.” The redhead pulled Thor into a hug and showed everyone the canvas she had been gifted, which had a photo of the whole team at Tony’s last party. “I realised you wanted us to bond, so I bought you something that I knew meant the world to you. All of us are having fun together, captured forever.”

Bruce was last to receive his present and he wasn’t sure what to think about it, “Bruce we’ve been together for a while and we have lots of fun. I care about you massively and enjoy all the time we spend together so I’m guilty of also breaking the rules especially with the spending limit. Here you go.” She gave him a small box which had everyone confused. “Nat are you serious about this? You want us to move in together, why?” Bruce questioned, nervous that she would change her mind. “Yes Bruce I’m serious, I think we should have some time alone and being in the compound makes it hard, so I guess it’s a present for both of us.” The redhead continued explaining

Once all the presents were finished the team began eating, they were thankful that Nat had forced them to participate in Secret Santa as it allowed them to bond and learn new things about one another.

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ciarawritesmarvel · 3 years

Text

four sunrises (+ the one you missed) - bucky x reader

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Canon-typical descriptions of Bucky’s past (mentions of violence, trauma, therapy), Endgame is discussed and the grief that comes with it, all with a fluffier ending

A/N: Hello loves! It’s been a long, long time. I’m by no means ‘back’, whatever that would mean, because I don’t know if this is a one off bout of inspiration or if it will stay with me. Fingers crossed. Regardless, I’m sending each and every one of you so much love and light and happiness. I hope you enjoy this little one shot with little pockets of fluff throughout <3

---

one

There was so much fire, it was a wonder you even noticed the sunrise. But still, your eyes were drawn past the death and the destruction and the wasteland laid bare before you and to the large semi-circular portion of the sun just peeking above the horizon. The new light signalled the start of a new day, a new era maybe, but there was little hope that came with it for now. Not with the wrecked sobs carrying through the air and to your ears from Tony’s body just a few hundred yards away. Not with people combing the battlefield for friends they can’t find. Friends they won’t find.

You keep your eyes on the rising sun and bite the inside of your cheek just enough to hurt a little.

“Hey.”

The voice is soft, hardly meant to be heard above the crying and the shouting and the crackling fires that surrounded you. Still, when you looked to your left at the sound, you found Bucky Barnes stood a little behind you, bruised and solemn. You looked back to the sun. You’d already had to deal with Steve and Thor and Bruce (new, hybrid Bruce) staring at you like you were some sort of ghost when you had ended up side by side at different points in the battle. You weren’t sure you could stand it anymore.

Then again, you had no idea whether Bucky had even been here. Had he been gone? Last you saw him, he was running ahead of you and into the fray in the heat of Wakanda. You’d lost him, lost everyone, once Thanos arrived and hurled you into the trees like you were nothing. And then, all of a sudden, you were nothing.

“Hi Bucky. You okay?” it was reflex, but you winced as soon as you said it because of course he wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. You looked back at him, seeing he had now stepped up beside you properly, “Sorry, stupid question. It’s good to see you, though.”

“And you,” he said sincerely, glancing between you and the horizon, “I’m glad you’re okay. Well, not okay, but-”

“I get it, Buck, don’t worry,” you said, just a small smile on your lips. He returned it. There wasn’t any light in his eyes, but yours were likely dim too. You were trying your best.

“Were you-” he began speaking, but stopped quickly, his eyes now trained on the sunrise instead. He couldn’t look at you, “I mean, were you...here? Or did you…”

He trailed off. It wasn’t as if he needed to continue anyway. He was asking you whether or not you had watched yourself turn to dust a few hours ago and then been woken up by a sorcerer who told you that it had actually happened five years ago. If he was asking, then it meant he’d been gone too. You hadn’t spoken to any of the others who’d been gone yet.

“No, I haven’t been here. You were gone too?”

You saw his body sag beside you in what looked like relief. You supposed perhaps there was a fear that you had been here the whole time and were still unbothered seeing him beside you. Maybe you should have hugged him by now.

“Yeah, I was...gone.”

He still hadn’t turned back to you yet. You threaded your arm through his and shuffled a little closer, a flare of pain shooting through your ankle that you’d forgotten about for an hour or so now. Even so, it was worth it just for a little contact with another human being. Bucky tensed underneath you, but you felt him ease up soon enough. You’d visited Wakanda a few times during his time there so you considered him a friend, whether or not the sentiment was returned.

“I don’t know what to say,” you mumbled, hoping he’d hear you anyway. The sun was well over halfway above the horizon now, looking huge and predatory as it took up its position in the rapidly brightening sky, “Not just to you, either, but to anyone. They’ve been living this whole time and we’ve just been dropped back into their lives again. Now Nat’s gone and Tony’s…”

You trailed off, lump firmly lodged in your throat. There was an unspoken question in your rambling: Where do we go from here?

“You don’t have to say it,” he said gravely, “I don’t know either.”

You looked over your shoulder, just briefly, just because you couldn’t stop yourself. You wished you hadn’t. Before you could look for too long, Bucky’s shoulder was nudging yours and you looked back up at his face. Dark eyes. An almost imperceptible shake of his head. You understood immediately. The sunrise was better for now.

When you turned back to it, Bucky’s shoulder was right next to your head, and you were so tired, so when your temple hit the leathery material of his jacket you decide to let yourself have this one. Again you feel the muscles tense, but a few seconds later they relax, and you try to do the same.

“Maybe we stick together, at least a little. Might help us get used to whatever world we’ve come back to?”

There was a pause. Then a little weight that felt a lot like he was resting his head on your own.

It was as close to a yes as you were going to get.

---

two

“If you don’t let me in, I’ll just use my key, you know. The knocking is a courtesy, Barnes!”

You were shouting a little louder than you wanted to in an apartment complex at six in the morning where the walls were thin and the tenants were cranky, but you’d been knocking on Bucky’s door for at least five minutes now and he still hadn’t let you in. He was definitely in there. Without a doubt.

This was proven not twenty seconds later when there was a few clicking locks and the door opened just a crack. There was a sliver of Bucky’s face in view, enough to notice that he hadn’t been shaving and his eyes looked more tired than you’d ever seen him. It was hard to keep the pity from flooding your features.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

“To let me in, genius, come on! I’ve got breakfast,” you shook the bag of takeout in his eyeline and watched his face fall. You tried not to take it to heart.

“Maybe some other time,” his voice was defeated and you were lucky that you saw the door slam coming before it happened. You stuck your foot out into the gap and winced when he shut the door right on your foot. His eyes widened, and so did the door as he backtracked, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Ignoring him, you walked inside. He was still in the middle of apologising for your foot, but stopped short when he realised it was part of your tactic all along. Resigned to his fate, he sank down onto his couch while you busied yourself in the kitchen getting plates out for the breakfast.

“I tried bringing dinner last night, but you didn’t answer,” you said nonchalantly, whether he was listening or not, “Thought I might try and get you early morning and see what your temperament was like then.”

“I’m sorry.”

It was empty, but you didn’t mind so much. He might not have been sorry for his behaviour now, but you knew he would be eventually, when he pieced himself together a little. That was enough to keep you around, along with the little moments that made it worth it. Last week, you’d forced him into a walk through a park and mentally screamed with glee when he laughed at two squirrels chasing each other.

“Don’t be, we’re here now,” you said easily, “We’re going to eat breakfast on your tiny balcony and watch the sunrise like the world’s okay - okay?”

No response.

Still, the breakfast was all set so you brought both plates out onto the balcony and balanced Bucky’s on the rail while you tucked in to yours. You’d had to wait for him to join you before and you’d happily wait for him again.

It took him seven minutes. You were counting.

He nibbled at the food to start with but soon ate a lot more ravenously. It was likely a while since he’d had anything other than the box of cereal you’d seen in his bottom cupboard. Sam texted you yesterday to ask how he was since Bucky wasn’t replying to his texts, but it was difficult to say how he was. You’d both missed five years, but he’d missed a lot more over the last century. Sometimes it was hard for him to see what he still had.

“Why are you here?”

It was a question he’d asked you before. There was only one answer.

“Because I want to be.”

There was nothing else to say. You stood and watched the sunrise over the rooftops in a swirl of pinks and oranges until every last shade melted into the brilliant blue of the daytime. Bucky watched too, and even if his mind was elsewhere, you were just glad he was here. With you. You hoped eventually it would be enough.

---

three

“We shouldn’t be here,” your whispers were harsh in the dark room and Bucky glared at you until you lowered your voice further, “We cannot be here right now.”

“If we don’t do this, nobody will,” Bucky reminded you, still glued to the window as he kept watch of the road. Technically you and Sam were meant to be resting and your watch didn’t start for another half hour, but you were nervous and awake and the silence was beginning to get to you. Sam’s soft snores from the other room were a lovely reassurance that he was safe and peaceful, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Maybe nobody should, Bucky,” you insisted, coming over to lean against the wall he stood beside so that he had to face you, “We were just starting to get somewhere back at home. You were just starting to get somewhere, you know, with the therapy and the amends and everything. Now we’re off chasing bad guys like we’re Avengers again!”

His look towards you was sharp.

“I was never an Avenger.”

You huffed out a breath at his indignance.

“You could have been,” you said, quieter still, “You should have been. But now, after everything, I don’t want to be that anymore. I quit. I quit a long time ago.”

“Then go home.”

“You really want me to?”

It was an unfair question. You knew he didn’t, but you also knew he was too proud. That he didn’t like to think about the fact that he was the sole reason you were here, risking your life again in the pursuit of a justice you’d all but given up on. Guilt was enough to poison your conversation beyond repair, if you let it.

“I don’t want you to be anywhere you don’t want to be,” he said instead, a fact rather than a real answer. A cop out. You shook your head, frustration seeping out of you as you turned your back to the wall and tilted your head back against it to stare at the ceiling. You could see Bucky’s gaze still trained on the road outside, refusing to even spare you a glance. It was infuriating.

“And I don’t want you here but we don’t always get what we want, Barnes.”

He didn’t respond right away, but you did see his eyes flicker over to you then back to the road, and it felt like a little bit of progress. It was a good few minutes before he spoke again.

“I think the therapy is helping too,” he whispered, not reacting when you rolled your head to the side to stare at him again, “But it’s not enough. Nothing ever will be. Doing stuff like this, saving peoples’ lives? That’s the closest I can get to making up for what I did.”

“It wasn’t you-”

“I know. Doesn’t matter.”

You wondered whether you would ever be able to convince the man in front of you that nothing he had ever done to hurt others was even remotely through fault of his own. Wondered if all the therapy and the coaxing and the amends would fall short of that one simple task. Guilt was enough to poison your mind beyond repair too, if you let it.

You were beyond determined not to let it.

“Matters to me,” you said, soft and forgiving, “And to Sam. And to Steve too, when he was here. Matters to a lot of people.”

There was something else on the tip of your tongue. You matter to a lot of people. It felt too vague. Not enough and yet too much for the humid European hotel room you were holed up in. Bucky was silent again, but this time you could see that he was just getting his thoughts together. You could see the faintest tremble in his hand as he held the blinds at just the right angle for his vantage point.

“Thank you.”

You...hadn’t been expecting that. It was much more usual for Bucky to show his gratitude to you and to others over the past few months. He brought by extra groceries when he got his own, squeezed your shoulder when he got up to grab drinks from his fridge, even bought you flowers that one time. It was rare of him to say it, though.

“What for?”

“Wanting to be here.”

You scoffed at that. It couldn’t be further from the truth, and yet here you were. Maybe he was onto something. You doubted you’d still be saying that in a few hours when the so-called bad guys showed up and you had to actually fight them. For now, there was a truth to his words you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

“I don’t,” you said, deadpan and teasing all at once, “Want to be here, that is. But you’re welcome anyway, I guess.”

You saw his lips turn up in a smirk or a smile, it was hard to tell from this angle with only a small square of filtered light on his face from the window. Sunlight. That meant sunrise. You moved closer to the window and manoeuvred so that you could see through the slats. Sure enough, the sky was a shade of dawn peach, even if the sun was hidden from view by the cityscape.

The last sunrise you’d seen was over six months ago and had been shared with the same man. The same silence. This one was just slightly more comfortable.

“I don’t want you to go home,” he murmured, no more than a breath of air leaving his lips, “Just, by the way.”

It was your turn to smile or smirk or whatever it was. You had already known, of course, but it was nice to hear him say it. It was a good job Sam was asleep or he’d be telling you to ‘get a room’ again.

“I know,” you said with a small nod, then your smile became a grin of pure mischief, “You want to play I-spy?”

A loud groan.

“I’m not playing I-spy with you, Y/N-”

“Why not! I won’t cheat this time, I promise-”

“You say that every time, and yet-”

“Okay, I do not say it every time you-”

“You say it every time!”

When Sam walked through from the bedroom later and found you defending your choice of the word ‘Darkness’ as Bucky sat slumped with his head in his hands, he wondered why he’d let either of you take watch in the first place.

---

four

A year. A whole year. There was a lot you could do in a year. You could build a business. Grow a herb garden in a series of ill-fitting plant pots on your balcony. Learn a new skill. Forge a new friendship. Fall in love.

You could also miss people. A lot. So much, in fact, that when the date that you lost them rolls around again, any progress you made in that last year is rendered insignificant.

Especially when you’re sitting on a park bench and they’re not sat beside you.

You missed Nat. You missed Tony. Missed Wanda and Vision and Steve and Thor. Some of them weren’t even gone, just out in the universe somewhere, yet to return. You weren’t sure they ever would. Part of you hoped they had found something wonderful, something to eclipse all the grief and the loss and make them whole again. Then they’d never have to come back and see you so different to the person they used to know.

You were vaguely aware that somebody had sat down in the space next to you now, which frustrated you more than you’d admit to anyone. You pressed the palms of your hands into the wood of the bench until the contact stung.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Bucky. Of course. Your hands relaxed without conscious thought. When you turned, there he was, looking at you with just the slightest tinge of apprehension. Like he knew he was intruding, but he did it anyway. He was growing his hair out again. It was nice.

“You know me that well?”

“This is the fourth place I came to,” he admitted, looking down at his shoes as he kicked at a particularly interesting tuft of grass, “But fourth isn’t bad, right?”

“Fourth isn’t bad,” you assured him, “But you didn’t need to come. I’m fine.”

“You’ve been out all night, Y/N,” he said gently, like he was the bearer of bad news. In fact, he was, because you had no idea it had been that long. When you looked upward and saw a murky grey instead of the pitch black that had stained the sky when you sat down, you shivered, “You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“You know that’s a bad idea, especially today. We should do something else.”

“Like what?”

You gave him a withering look that he didn’t deserve, but he took it in stride. He hopped up from the bench and held out a hand to you, leaving it there when you didn’t take it right away.

“There’s a fair in town a couple of blocks away. We’re going.”

“A fair? Are you kidding?”

“Nope,” he said seriously, no room for argument in his tone. He even reached forward and grabbed your hands from the bench, pulling you up to a stand despite your groan of protest. It took a few moments to stretch out your legs before he let go, “We’re going to a fair. You’re going to crash into me on the dodgems enough times for me to want to press charges, then I’ll buy you all the cotton candy you can eat.”

“Is this really the right thing to do on the anniversa-”

“What would they want us to do? Sit on a park bench and wish they were sat here with us?”

You glared at him, but it was meek. Tony would laugh at you for doing this. Nat would roll her eyes at your sentimentality. It would just make Steve sad to see you sad. Bucky was right, even if you refused ever to utter those words in that order.

“Will you win me the biggest teddy bear we can find? Because if not, I don’t see the point of going.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he offered you his arm nonetheless and you took it as you started walking in what you could only assume was the direction of the fair. You briefly wondered how many dates he might have taken to the fair back in his day, how many had hung off his arm and grinned at him all night. None of them had been with this Bucky before though, you reminded yourself, this new rough-around-the-edges Bucky, trying-his-best Bucky. Shiny, polished 1940s Sergeant Barnes was far less your type anyway.

“You know, if I do try and win you a teddy, it’s going to look like we’re on a date.”

So clearly his train of thought had aligned with yours. Without much care for the consequences and with a courage that only came from the thought of missed chances, you slid your arm out of his and took his hand instead, sliding your fingers through his gloved ones. It was his metal hand, you could quickly tell, but you weren’t going to let him pull away when he realised which hand you’d latched onto.

“Would that be so bad?”

He looked down at you like any second now you were going to realise which hand you were holding and want to swap sides, or like you were going to throw him away and ask for a new one. You held firm. When he realised you had no intention of changing anything, you felt his hand push a little firmer against your own, his fingers slot further into place. You really wanted to pull the glove off and entangle your fingers with the metal underneath to make a point, but you decided that could wait a little longer.

“So...this is a date?”

He just had to spell it out. You’d just held his hand, but he still had to check. It was endearing honestly, so despite your reluctance to share too much, you knew you needed to be forthcoming for him to believe that this was anything real.

“I would really like it if it was, Bucky,” you said, in an attempt to be as clear as possible. You curled your other hand around his bicep and suppressed a wide grin when you saw the smile your statement had brought out of him. He was trying to keep his cool too.

You were both failing miserably.

“Well, that works out then.”

You laughed, squeezing him a little closer and relishing in the fact that he didn’t move away, but instead pulled you into his side. The shadows of the street were brighter every minute that passed, even though the actual sunrise was hidden from view by the apartment blocks and skyscrapers that surrounded you.

And if the newfound warmth you felt was from the sparks that flew each time your shoulder bumped his rather than the break of a new day, you weren’t giving anything away.

---

+the one you missed

“Bucky?”

You’d managed to get the door open with a little more effort than it should have taken. Your muscles were still sore from training the new recruits yesterday, though you wouldn’t have had it any other way. The fact that Sam had found something so perfectly suited to your skill set without the danger you had been trying to avoid was something you were still trying to repay him for.

Now, you were up on the roof and stretching out your left arm as you looked around for some sign of the man who’d called to invite you here last night and insisted that, yes, it was necessary to meet this early in the morning and no, he couldn’t tell you why.

“Over here, genius.”

You turned. There he was. A blanket was set out next to him and when one corner of it folded over in the chilling breeze, he scrambled to smooth it out again. You chuckled quietly as you made your way over to him and gestured to the little oasis he’d created for the both of you.

“What’s all this, mister?”

“Our anniversary, baby.”

It was a newfound nickname, one that still sent a thrill through you every time you heard it. The fondness laced within it was something you hadn’t even gotten used to yet, but you could see yourself wondering how you ever lived without it sometime soon.

“We’ve been together for four months, Buck, I don’t think we have an anniversary just yet,” you said, just a little nervous that you were forgetting something. Bucky looked smug enough that you thought he was more likely to be concocting a scheme instead, but you took his hand and let him lead you to sit down anyway.

“I haven’t told you what anniversary it is,” he assured you as he sat down beside you on the other cushion, pulling a picnic basket from behind him into the center of the blanket. You hoped that he wasn’t about to pull out a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, because the idea of him feeding you anything was enough to put you in stitches.

It was a pleasant surprise when he pulled out two styrofoam cups that smelled chocolatey. When he passed you one and you took an eager sip, you hummed at the hot chocolate in the cup. When he then pulled out a couple of plates and a half and half pizza that suited both of you, the elated laugh you let out was practically involuntary.

“Whatever it is, can we have this anniversary more often?”

You both laughed and although you wanted to push more on what the occasion was, Bucky plated up your pizza for you and you ended up fully distracted by the delicious food and the dashing company.

There was a comfort that came with being by Bucky’s side that you weren’t sure you’d ever found previously. A certain sense of pride came too, from knowing that you could provide some of that same comfort to Bucky in return. Sam was sick of the two of you already. Of course.

“You want to play I-spy?” you asked quietly once you’d finished eating, lying back on the blanket and tugging on Bucky’s jacket to encourage him to join you. He grumbled slightly, but he soon lay back beside you until the back of his fingers were just brushing your own. You didn’t tangle them together just yet, because the anticipation was still so sweet.

“You know I don’t.”

“What if I promise not to choose ‘darkness’?”

“Let me guess, you’re thinking of something beginning with U?”

“Oh come on- wait, how did you know?”

He rolled his head to the side to look at you and you mirrored his position, noses just an inch from each other.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft and you could feel the words against your lips, “You can’t see the universe.”

You were ready to argue your case, but Bucky’s face was just too close to your own. Letting the discussion go (only for now), you leaned in and pressed a series of chaste kisses along the underside of his jaw. You were only cut short when he became impatient, cupping your face in both hands and bringing you into a kiss that made your toes curl in your shoes.

You had to turn over onto your side properly, shuffle around on the blanket a little, but the kiss still felt pretty perfect. When he sat up, he took you with him, pushing further into you as the kiss grew heated. One of his hands was in your hair, the other wrapping around your waist under your shirt, the cold metal contrasting feverish skin sending sparks up your spine. You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck and grinned at the groan that escaped him as he pulled back just enough to breathe.

“It’s been a year,” he panted out urgently, like he’d been waiting all night to tell you because he had been waiting all night to tell you. He’d been waiting a whole year, if he were being honest.

“A year?”

“Since I fell in love with you,” he explained simply, only continuing when you stared at him dumbfounded and didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, “That day I wouldn’t let you in and you brought me breakfast. We watched the sunrise in silence and that...that was it for me.”

You’d exchanged ‘I love you’s before, just a few weeks ago. Not that it was intended, but he had sent you a postcard while he was on a week long mission - an actual postcard, full of innocuous details about the location rather than anything mission related. A cheesy little ‘wish you were here’ at the end that made your heart swell. It was inevitable, really, when you called him three minutes after you read it and told him you loved him.

You got his voicemail, but you said it anyway, and the reaction you got from him when you were finally reunited a few days later told you that you’d made the right call.

However, him telling you exactly when he’d fallen in love with you? That was new. Unexpected. Another part of his soul laid bare before you even though you were content with the pieces he’d already shared. You had always kept them safe, tucked away in your top pocket, close to your own heart. Now you had another piece of him to carry around with you and you couldn’t feel more honoured.

“You…” it was natural to want to question it first, but you stopped short. Accepting what he’d said first time would be a much better sign of your trust, and you needed him to know how much you reciprocated everything, “You’ve been it for me for a long time.”

You were still short of breath, but there were no complaints when he pulled you in for another kiss. Softer. Slower. The heat from before now spread through to your fingers and your toes and became an overwhelming warmth instead. It was a warmth that Bucky had brought into your life ever since you’d decided to stick together amongst the death and the destruction.

Some of that warmth might have been from the sun, which was steadily rising and painting the dark sky and with a whole new colourful palette. Bucky had chosen this time in the morning specifically so that you could create a new tradition of watching the sunrise every year just like this, had planned to create something that the two of you would remember forever.

He only realised this about half an hour after the sun had fully risen but it didn’t matter. The memory was already carved in stone and outlined with gold marker in both of your minds.

---

Thank you for reading this far! <3 I’m not tagging anyone, because it’s been a long time and I’d hate to suddenly pop up in people’s mentions without any warning after so long when they may not want me there. If this has found you anyway, then I count myself super lucky to have you here, thank you!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky imagine #bucky oneshot #bucky drabble #bucky fanfic #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #four sunrises

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cblgblog · 3 years

Note

Sorry I’m advance but one of my other favorite accounts just reblogged a Tony scene and people are talking about Civil War and how it made them Stan Tony, and how when they watch that movie they hate team cap👀 Then someone was all about how he was sleep deprived and how much pressure he was under and couldn’t understand how people didn’t like Tony because. Someone literally said that when someone says they don’t like Tony in Civil War they say “did you watch the same movie as me.” I’m baffled. Oddly enough someone else said, “he just wants to help everyone.” Sorry for the rant but I think people forget about what the accords are and what it would mean for people. Side note, I hope you’re having a great day/night 😀

No sorry needed!

I feel you man, I do. Honestly, I’ve unfollowed people based on similar posts when I was in especially Done moods, so.

Look on the one hand, the movie would’ve been a narrative failure if everyone was in favor of one side or the other, right? The whole point of the damn thing—besides giving the Mouse overlords more money—was to spark discussion, debate. Which, yeah, we’ll call that the tame description for what actually happened. But just, the thing was meant to split the fanbase so in that regard…winning? Thanks, I guess?

Film is also very obviously subjective, different strokes for different folks, so yeah, ten people can watch a movie and none of them are gonna see the exact same film. Let’s try to remember that this is, in theory anyway, a good thing. I just read a professional film review yesterday where I had the same reaction. What film were you watching, dude? Incidentally his reviewing partner said the same thing.

So honestly, no, they weren’t watching the same film as you or I or anyone else, because everyone brings their own biases and experiences and knowledge and interests into a thing, and that’s always going to flavor how it’s viewed. Again, let’s try to remember that this is good. In theory. Heavy on the theory.

That out of the way? Let’s get into Tony specifically so his uber stans can find this and scream at me on anon as though I just shot RDJ with a nuke.

Oh yeah, he was stressed. Oh, he was sleep deprived. Yeah, I’ve heard that. And that it’s Pepper’s fault, if she hadn’t left the poor baby, if she was there to rein him in, he’d be fine dammit, leave the baby alone!

Here’s the thing. You know who gets a pass on their shit behavior when they’re upset or tired? Actual babies. Actual babies and toddlers, and children, up to a point. Because they actually cannot always help themselves. Their bodies and brains are different, they have not learned better.

When you’re a 50-year-old man who’s supposedly the world’s bestest superhero, who wants, wants to be in charge of protecting the whole world? You need a little more self-control than that. The sleep deprived excuse works if you snap at someone before you’ve had your coffee, not for this. Roseanne Barr didn’t get to blame Ambien for her racism, Tony doesn’t get to handwave CW away because oops, I was tired.

Really? You’re a superhero, dude. Most of your teammates are tired too, that’s part of the gig. If you crash and burn this badly without your afternoon nap, fucking hang up the armor and go back to your billionaire playboy lifestyle.

Speaking of that, sure, right. It’s Pepper’s fault because she left him. Put aside the argument on whether that was justified or not (cough, it was and she should’ve stayed away even though they are adorable together). It’s not Pepper’s job to keep Tony sane. It’s not any partner’s job to do that for anyone. If she wants out, she has a right to that, without Tony going off the rails and blaming it on her. Seriously, he says part of the reason he backed the Accords was to “split the difference” with Pepper.

Dude. You were an asshole and you lost your girl. You destroyed all your suits, turned an emotional and mental corner in IM 3…and then relapsed 4 minutes later I guess because Whedon. Either way, Tony admits himself that he does not want to stop. So instead of doing that, or finding another partner who can accept that, you back an unjust international law that pits you against your team, your supposed friends? Go to therapy, have a pint of ice cream, cry into your pillow, send her more of those strawberries you sent her in IM 2 that she’s allergic to. You don’t go trying to change international law in ways that could ultimately affect millions of people because your girl left you.

Honestly—and thank God they didn’t do this but—the only way the Pepper excuse works in excusing his behavior in any way is if she’d died. Or been severely injured like Happy in IM 3. Still wouldn’t be okay, but, like Quill messing up their chance to stop Thanos because Gamora died, it would’ve been more understandable. Understandable, not excusable, and the way the MCU treats their women as manpain fodder, we’re probably legit lucky we didn’t get this.

As for him wanting to help everyone. He does in fact want that, I think. The problem is that his need to feel like he’s doing that is stronger than his rational mind, or his want to actually help in a constructive way.

Tony is too smart. He’s dumb as hell in many instances, mostly involving people and relationships, but he’s also too smart, and he’s been told for too long that he’s smart, and he’s bought into it. Ultron. Suit of armor around the world, protects the world, no more alien threats. It’s a simple concept on paper that fails in execution. So there are people with dangerous powers. Okay, we’ll make a set of laws to keep them from being dangerous, problem solved. But again, it isn’t.

Tony is not used to problems he cannot solve. He’s a genius, right? He can fix anything. He should be able to fix anything. That’s how he feels. But not everything is zeros and ones and circuits, things that can be fixed mechanically like his armors can. The people he wants to protect are not built that way. But he needs to feel like he’s doing something, because he’s terrified of what happens to the world if he doesn’t. So he creates these simple solutions to complex problems. The suit of armor, the Accords. They sound good in theory, but the problems they’re trying to solve are bigger than they are. And Tony, way back in IM 1, he sat back for years, clueless that his weapons were being used for bad things. He says it to Cap in CW. When he found out what his weapons were being used for, he went in and stopped it. Whether or not he should’ve known that already is a separate issue here. The point here is that when he found out, too late or not, he went in and did something about it.

Tony needs to do something about it. Again, go back to Cap in AoU, Tony’s nightmare sequence. Steve asks Tony why he didn’t save them. Tony’s ultimate nightmare is that he sits back and does nothing, and his inaction causes everyone to die. Which is where you get Ultron. Something he came up with because of what he saw in space in Avengers 1, then doubled down on in AoU. It’s where you get the Accords. Oops, he caused someone to die, he killed Charles Spencer. Must do something about that right now so it doesn’t happen again, and he won’t have to feel this guilt. He should be collaborating with others to come up with solutions (no Bruce in AoU doesn’t count because Bruce was dumb there), or at the very least, taking more time to think through the repercussions of the things he puts out there. But he doesn’t, because he’s got his savior complex that tells him that he alone can and must fix this, and because he’s too dumb to realize how not-smart he is in certain areas.

“We need to be put in check. Whatever form that takes, I’m game.”

Isn’t that what he says in CW, or something very close to it? Whatever form that takes. That’s the issue, right there, whatever form that takes. Realistically, yes, there should be laws regarding people with powers, the same way there are special laws pertaining to people who carry guns, or people who are licensed to fly planes. You have a thing/can do a thing that not everyone else does, so there are regulations pertaining to that thing. Laws change with the times, they always have. Some new technology comes up, eventually there will be laws that regulate it. As there should be, honestly. The issue with the Accords, Steve’s issue with the Accords, was not the basic idea. He says as much. He says that it could work, but there would have to be safeguards. Safeguards that are not in the Accords that Tony wants him to sign.

It's not a matter of oh, fuck the law, there should be no law governing these people, they’re above it. The problem is that the law as it’s presented here is unjust. There’s what, a month between Lagos and Ross coming by to tell them about the Accords? A month is not enough time to properly analyze such a big issue, Especially when you’re reacting out of fear, which is what happened with Lagos. People died because of an Enhanced person, an Avenger, in this case. Lawmakers don’t want that to happen again, they especially don’t want the political shit storm that comes with it. Damn, we look like we were asleep at the switch here, not having anything to throw at this problem earlier. Quick, let’s throw together this thing so no one can say we’re not addressing the problem.

Patriot Act of 2001, anyone? 9/11 happened, the public were rightfully terrified, the US said oh man, these are unprecedented circumstances, we’ve never had this before. Don’t worry though, we’re on this, we’re protecting you. The reality being that that bill simply gave the government too much power, most of it being used against people who were not actually threats, and it’s debatable, to say the very least, whether or not that law helped more than it hurt.

No law is perfect. No law ever will be. It’s not possible. We still have to strive for perfection though, have to aim there so that the laws we get are as close to fair as possible. Tony’s a big deal. If not for his “whatever form that takes” attitude, he might’ve been able to use his influence to pressure lawmakers into coming up with a fairer bill. Hey, I’m me, the public loves me, I will endorse this bill publicly and work on getting the rest of the team to sign, but you need to change this and this and this first, or no deal. Instead, he took the easy way out, the quickest, easiest way for him to feel like he’s atoned for his sins without actually doing anything. Whatever form that takes.

Tony’s not wrong because he backs the creation of a law that addresses these things. He’s wrong because he says himself that he does not care what that law does, specifically, so long as it exists. He’s wrong because he violates said law upteen times during the movie, while preaching to team Cap about what assholes they are for not backing it. He’s wrong because he cares more about feeling as though he’s tackled a problem than he does about taking the time to make sure that the thing he’s proposing is actually a good idea. He’s wrong because of what he does with Bucky, though that’s honestly a separate issue, for the purposes of this discussion.

Anyway, that was longer than I ever wanted it to be. Damn. Next time you see a comment about CW being the reason people stan Tony, just remember there are other people out there who stopped stanning Tony because of that movie. Everyone’s entitled to see a piece of media however they see it, and although the Tony stans are often the loudest, there are plenty of like-minded people out there who share your take on events. Block who you need to, unfollow who you need to, blacklist what you need to, and don’t let them get you down.

Hang in there, and have an awesome day :)

#pro steve rogers #pro team cap #anti tony stark #anti tony stans #anti iron man #anti team iron man

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lovelyirony · 3 years

Text

times the avengers tried to make tony blush + the one time rhodey showed them how it was done

It was a well-established fact of life that Tony Stark was without a doubt one of the most shameless individuals in the world. From wild parties in his early twenties to the most insane stories some of his former flames have told, Tony Stark is very much not someone who anyone would call a prude.

Now, the Avengers know this. They’ve known it from Natasha’s gentle ribbing at Tony because of her past as a security member, or the almost casual way Tony will talk about certain subjects as if it’s an article in Wall Street.

So they wanted to see if they could trip him up. Something had to do it, right? There had to be something that would get him to stutter or blush or get flustered.

But it didn’t seem like anything could.

They’d bring up anything, ask him if he’d tried anything out of the ordinary, but Tony always answered it as if he was answering whether or not he’d eaten lunch.

“Well yeah, I did try that Bruce, but it wasn’t really all that fun. Now candle wax, on the other hand...that’s a party.”

“Good to know,” Bruce says, turning away with a defeated sigh. He hands Nat the five dollars as bet, and they wait more.

They leave Clint’s laptop up with an old article about one of Tony’s past trysts, and Tony looks at them and looks at it.

“What do you guys think of my outfit? I think that one of Pepper’s magazines mentioned that the 90s were becoming back into style, which means I can finally bring those leather lace-up pants that Rhodey despises out of storage...”

Steve gets a look on his face, his eyes lighting up as his mouth spreads into a grin.

“That’s it!”

Thor and Clint turn to him.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Tony and Rhodey have been together, right?” Steve asks. “So Rhodey obviously knows him better than most of us. He’ll definitely know what makes him blush.”

“You’re a genius,” Clint crows.

“He made an obvious connection, don’t give him too much credit,” Bruce jokes. “But come on, let’s go get Rhodey.”

Rhodey thinks the Avengers are ridiculous.

Trying to make his husband blush with talk of sex when Tony’s practically an expert in the subject? Oh please.

“You seriously expected him to blush when you talked about the complexities of a sex dungeon?” Rhodey asks. “Come on, he’s helped construct them for some friends before.”

“He has?!” Steve exclaims. “Why?”

“Because he studied basic structural engineering and architecture in college and knows what you need. He also really likes secret rooms. There are some in the Tower. He not shown you?”

There’s a mix of “yes”, “no”, and “well he didn’t show me.”

Rhodey sighs.

“Look. I’m coming by team dinner tonight because Tony wants me there and he made me promise him to make my fruit salad, because somehow it tastes better than literally the exact same thing that the store sells. I’ll show you guys how it’s done at seven.”

They are excited, of course. A chance to finally see Tony blush and turn tomato-red is an auspicious occasion, especially when he has no idea that Rhodey’s agreed to help them with this, and so he won’t be expecting any of it.

Natasha smoothly greets Rhodey at the door.

“Do we even get a hint?”

“You’re not going to like it,” he answers.

“And why would that be?” Natasha asks.

“Enough questions and take this fruit bowl,” Rhodey says. “Come on.”

Natasha huffs, but nods at the other Avengers. Might as well pretend like Rhodey told her the plan than be caught unawares.

He goes over to the kitchen island, greeting Tony with a kiss on the cheek and a hug from behind.

“Hey baby,” Rhodey says, smiling. “You’re looking gorgeous today.”

Tony wriggles out of his hold, turning red.

“Honey bear, leave that when we don’t have guests,” Tony stresses, laughing nervously as Rhodey comes in closer to him, laying another kiss on his cheek.

“We’ve been married for years, Tones. Come on. You have to stop blushing every single time I kiss you.”

Tony scowls, swiping the fruit bowl.

“I only invited you here for the fruit, darling.”

Rhodey smirks, looking at the Avengers.

“Yeah, well, I came here for other reasons. You know your team was trying to make you blush?”

“Oh no, who got you to do this?” Tony asks, looking accusatorily at his team. “This doesn’t count, you know. You cannot use my husband to get your gains.”

“Too late, he was used quite nicely,” Thor says, grinning. “Got a picture of it and everything. Thanks for joining us for dinner, by the way.”

“No problem. Heard that Clint was bringing the weird appetizer, and I figured I needed to try it.”

Steve is staring.

“That...that’s it? Calling Tony gorgeous is what did it?”

“What can I say? My husband likes the small things,” Rhodey says with a shrug. “But let’s eat.”

Tony smiles over in Rhodey’s direction, grinning.

His husband is ridiculous.

(Not that he minds.)

#nsfk #listen tony is shameless but gets flustered out of his gourd when rhodey does anything remotely sweet #loveyirony writes #avengers as a family #kind of #ironhusbands #rhodeytony #rhodey #tony stark #iron man #war machine

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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 3 years

Text

The Helping Hand

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Word Count: 3000 approx

A/N: Sorry for the wait I've been a little busy the last couple of weeks. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Next chapter will be Civil war I hope to upload again soon. In the mean time if you have some ideas or thoughts send them my way.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.7

Chapter 8: Time and Irony Walk Hand in Hand

Ch.9

"Well this is nice…" You say as Natasha drags you along. You see currently you and Natasha are quote on quote shaking a tail. Whatever that means… "Shut up and keep moving." You stop moving and pull your arm away. "Stop Nat we've gone far enough. It was probably just a coincidence we didn't really get that far from the food truck." Finally taking the time to catch your breath. "I think we should get back to the compound. Tony and Bruce must be waiting for me." You say looking around for a cab lucky for you one stopped right before you and you got in.

The ride back to the Compound was quiet. When she's about to make her way in, you stop her. "Nat… I know that didn't go the way either of us wanted it to go but I still had fun. And again what I'm trying to say is that I would like to do things your way, candlelit, waiters, and wine. If you want to of course." You fidget with your fingers waiting for her response. "Y/n I would love to… but I like the way you do things. You're not the Wine and Dine type... I like that." She mentions as she walks back in. You quickly follow suit after she makes a comment about your blatant staring.

Once you stop on the elevator FRIDAY greets you. Telling you that Tony and Bruce are waiting for you in the lab. "Well Nat this is goodbye for now, see you around." You say stepping off of the elevator. Suddenly this weight comes crashing down on you. Remembering what Bruce told you the worry in his eyes. Dread fills your body when you're walking towards the lab. "Guys I'm back… anything good for me?" You state casually trying your hardest not to sound hopeful. "Well yes and no…" Tony states putting the tablet down. "I'm going to be honest with you… your heart is trashed, absolute garbage."

"Way to make a girl feel special." You say with a dry laugh. "But I think we can build something. And with my arc reactor technology we can make it work." He states tapping at his chest. This is where Bruce jumps in "with the help of Dr. Cho we could try and make a new cradle… and use it for its intended purpose this time around. Making a heart powered by the arc reactor." You nod taking all the information in. "Well this is good right? How long would this take." This is where both Tony and Bruce go quiet. "Y/n the process is relatively easy, what's difficult is getting our hands on the Vibranium."

"Which is basically a non existent problem at this point… Bruce is just paranoid, my contact will pan out you'll see." Tony jumps back in clearly annoyed that Bruce was disclosing such trivial issues. "Even if we do get the Vibranium Y/n there's something we don't know… If you'll even survive the transplant." Your eyes meet his and he elaborates. "Your body might not be strong enough to handle it." Suddenly the inevitability of the situation dawns upon you. "Well I'm still doing it… I'm dying anyways. What difference does it make if it's a month from now or five. I'm doing it."

"Well, let not be hasty alright. We can still look for other alternatives." Bruce tries to argue. "Look, this is Y/n's decision. She's old enough to make her own decisions. Plus the more we work on this the higher survival chances are." Tony argues. You clear your throat when you notice some visitors standing by the door. "How long have they been there?" You ask, trying to mask your anger. Pietro and Steve both give you sheepish smiles that don't quite reach their eyes. "Look Y/n we just wanted to make sure you were okay… and by the looks of it you're not."

You stand making your way to stand in front of Steve who had just taken a defensive stance. "Well you're right I'm not okay. Now what are you going to do about it Cap… Other than feeling pity every time you look at me." You say pushing your finger on his chest. "This does not leave this room you understand?" You say looking at both Steve and Pietro. "But, My sister…" You nod "Figure it out pretty boy. Now if you could leave the adults have to talk." They both sigh but take their leave. You turn and notice Tony and Bruce staring, not saying anything. You can only laugh at the sight.

As much as you did want to be mad you couldn't. You were starting to come to terms with the fact that your business was now becoming their business. "I just wanted to watch them squirm." You clarify making Tony laugh. "Well I'd say you achieved that." Bruce mentions. "I'll give them til the end of the day. What do you think?" You say looking at Tony. "How much are you willing to bet, Billionaire to Billionaire?" He asks, challenging you. "50 million dollars." He scoffs. "Don't be a prude, make it Euros." You nod. "Best money there is." You say agreeing with him. "I'll hold you to that Y/n." He says as you leave the lab.

Two days later you were busy. You'd been in contact with Bruce and Pepper. Currently you were looking for someone to mentor. Someone you could leave your legacy with. Logan was an obvious choice but you knew he wouldn't take it. "You wanna give it a break Y/n you're not going to find the perfect candidate in so little time." Logan mentions. When suddenly your secretary enters with more forms. "Ms. Krast these are the applications from Midtown Science High. There's only four. Liz Allan, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, and uhh Peter Parker." You sigh with a smile forming on your lips. "They've got to be here my mentee. These kids are geniuses."

You say as you look through the applications. Slowly crossing off the first two, that Flash kid and Liz. Ned and Peter it was a tough choice until you saw some of yourself in Peter's eyes. "It's him." You say under your breath catching Logan's attention. "Peter Parker… I want him, he will be the future of our company. Make arrangements. I want him to feel welcomed." You say as you start to gather your things. "Send out the acceptance letter today." You say to Logan on your way out. "Will do Boss." He says with a smile growing on his face as he reads the file. Peter didn't have it easy on the contrary he lived through a lot but he still managed to be him.

The next week went by in a blur. Your will and testament were drafted and certified. You were set on that end and now on the other front. You were currently parked outside Midtown High waiting for the bell to ring. When it does a couple of minutes pass when a fresh faced kid is knocking on your window. "Y/n Krast nice to meet you kid." You say rolling down the window. He seems a little nervous. "Come on in Peter. We're going to get to know each other a little before we begin working with the internship." He nods enthusiastically, a small smile forming on his lips. "Tell me about your Peter, I mean outside of what I already know."

"Well I'm what most people would call a nerd. My aunt may always say that's not true but it is." You hum in agreement pulling out of the school parking lot. "Well being popular is overrated anyways." You jump in. "And Ned, my best friend, we're huge fans of you and your work." He says his speed increases as he starts to ramble about how he followed your trajectory as soon as he found out who you were. "Well I'm glad you like what I do Peter but in my eyes were equals. I will teach you my ways and hopefully you'll take over once I'm dead. Keeping my legacy alive long after I'm dead." You say seriously making him settle and quiet down.

"Ms. Krast you can't be serious." He says giving you an incredulous look. "I was an orphan… I was given a chance. Someone believed in me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you remind me of me… and I would like to give you that same chance that I was given." You say sincerely. "Y/n that's too generous… Plus I don't think that I'm what you're looking for. I'm clumsy and…" You stop the car making him look at you. "You may not be ready now or tomorrow but if you let me teach you, you will be." You say reassuringly. "Plus I don't plan on dying anytime soon." You say playfully at the end causing Peter to laugh successfully lightening the mood. "Also another plus for you after this year's audit we'll be working hand in hand with Tony Stark."

At the mention of Tony's name he lit up ten times more than you thought possible. It made you laugh a little but you understood him. "That's amazing. Me working for Y/n Krast and Tony Stark, a literal dream come true." You nod at his statement. The day went by incredibly fast. He was a nice kid, respectful and smart, a little naïve but overall sensible. You went to his favorite pizza place and talked, went to Krast Industries and introduced him to Logan. Showed him his dedicated work space. "So here's your badge, don't lose it. Umm… you'll be here every other day after school, and if you have some special dates tell Margaret the secretary and she'll make a schedule around it." You say as you're walking towards the elevator.

Peter stops abruptly turning to face you. "Thank you really." He then proceeds to rather hastily pull you into a hug. You're shocked initially but hug him back nonetheless. "Don't sweat it kid." You say patting his back. "I'll have one of my drivers give you a lift home alright." He nods. Just before you press the button for the elevator the doors open. Revealing Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. It makes you laugh internally knowing that the young boy beside you just had his world rocked. "Ms. Krast this is real right?" He asks in a high pitched voice. You nod.

"Pepper Tony, I would like you to meet my new mentee Peter Parker." You say nudging him forward. "Hi, you're Tony Stark." He says in a daze. "Yes kid I am Tony stark and you are?" Tony could literally not care less. Until you gave Pepper a look and she nudged Tony. "Alright kid it was nice meeting you." He says overly enthusiastically. Peter takes the compliment either way. "Alright Peter go over to Margaret she'll take you to the driver. We have some urgent business to attend." He nods and waves goodbye shyly and takes his leave. "Right what do you guys need." Pepper clears her throat "Well actually Tony and I wanted to invite you out to lunch."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get going." You say walking off with Pepper. "You'll be pleased to know that you won our wager. They know..." Tony mentions at the restaurant. You laugh. "Told you!" Pepper gives you a look. "They're worried about you." You sigh. "Pepper, believe me I'm worried too." Tony quickly steps in. "Which you don't need to worry about too much, everything is in place. Everything panned out Dr. Cho was more than willing to help us. So whenever you want." He says again not meeting your gaze. "I was… ummm. Actually thinking we should hold off on that."

"What… why?" They both ask almost immediately. "I'm okay right now." Tony scoffs. "So you rather wait till you have another episode to undergo the procedure." You hum. "Precisely see you get it." Watching their confusion you continue. "I've got things I have to leave ready. Time that I can't take for granted." Before they could argue with you said. "I need time… I-i drafted my will a couple of days ago." You say burying your head into your hands. "It's funny really… how you get things you're willing to live for. And life just comes along and takes it from you." Your mind drifts off to Viv and David. You wipe your tears and excuse yourself. Just as you're about to leave you remember.

"Put the money in a college fund for the kid." You grab Peppers shoulder and nod. "We'll keep in touch." You say leaving the restaurant.

Three weeks later

Pretty early on you noticed Peter's jumpy behavior. It wasn't long till you found out his little secret. Again smart kid heart of gold even, but too naïve for his own good. You'd had one of your AI robots track him after he'd shown up a little dinged up. Telling him you knew took some time. You didn't know the extent of his capabilities, but you'd seen the kid walk on walls and kick some ass.

As cute as he looked in that makeshift costume you had a better one in mind. "Peter I would like to show you something." You call out from your workstation in the lab. "Ward pull up spider schematics please." You call out. "What do you think?" You say as Peter glances at his new suit. "I-i um… It's awesome but who is at for?" He said quickly. You almost burst out in laughter right then and there but you played along. "Well I was in Queens the other day and there was this mugging and some hero came out of nowhere and stopped the mugging." You say as you deconstruct the specks of the suit. Watching as peter gawks at the hologram.

"When I noticed his suit wasn't really a suit, I made him one. You think he'll like it?" Peter nods eagerly, you hum in response. "Alright then try it on, see how it fits spider boy." Peter stands there with his mouth hanging open and you could swear saliva came out. "You aren't that good at keeping secrets kid." You say handing him the suit. "I expect you to be careful, kid." Peter starts to ramble trying to explain himself and begs you to not fire him. You physically had to stop him from pacing. "No ones firing anyone. I'm proud of your kid again, just be careful." Emphasizing the last part. "I will" after all that's out of the way you and Peter spent the day testing out the specks in his new suit. Web slingers and all. Yo I didn't leave until he got the hang of it. It took a while but it was well with the wait.

The next day you wake up to the news seeing a familiar twin on the news. Not good Lagos had gone wrong, the building collapsed and Wanda was to 'blame'. You hurriedly made your way through your morning routine and raced to the compound. As soon as you make it to the common room you can tell something's off. "How is everybody?" You asked Steve who was the first you saw. "I'm assuming you heard about the incident." You don't have the heart to say yes so you just nod. "We're all a little down on morale. Nothing we can't fix." You say, giving you a small smile. You hate that he is down playing this because of your current dilemma. "It wasn't your fault." You say. As you walk off towards Pietro.

"Are you okay?" You ask this time actually worried Pietro doesn't seem like his usual self. "No...It's Wanda. She hasn't talked to anyone she hasn't eaten she hasn't left her room." He says all in one breath. He finally stopped stirring and slid down to the floor and sat. "Its my fault. I-i could've moved faster, I could've saved them." He says defeatedly. "Maybe… Maybe not" You say bluntly sitting in front of him. "You can't go back now. And I know it's a sour experience. You made the right decision." You sigh. "You made the choice that saved the most lives." He nods letting out a deep breath. "I know… I know but Wanda. If I had saved those people Wanda wouldn't be feeling like this right now." You shake your head. "You fail to realize that if you had done that you would've died along with the other victims. Wanda will come around and let me talk to her." He only nods. "She's in her room."

You knock on her door a couple of times… no answer. So you make yourself comfortable and prepare yourself. Your knock every minute or two and you're constantly yelling in your head. Half an hour goes by and nothing. You go back to mentally yelling, when suddenly you're being dragged by the collar of your shirt into the room with the doors shutting behind you. "You're stubborn like a mule." She says not sparring you a look. "Yeah well I'm dying what are you gonna do about it." You quipped smiling at her. She chuckles. Suddenly the light leaves her face. "I killed people… I put people in danger, I put my own brother I'm danger." You nod. "You also saved hundreds of people. God only knows what that gas would have done. So thank you Wanda. You're my hero." You say sending her a smile.

Right when she's about to say something a certain red friend phases through the wall. "You will never cease to amaze me Vision." You say while looking between him and the wall. "You have very good taste in clothes." You mention as you eye him. He smiles. "Vision. We talked about this, there's a door for a reason." Wanda states. "Yes, well the door was open so I assumed…" He says, explaining himself. "What did you need Vision?" Wanda asks cutting him off. "Well Mr. Stark asked me to come and get both you there is a team meeting. With secretary Ross."

#avengers #marvel #natasha x y/n #pietro maximoff #wanda x reader #tony stark #natasha romanoff #reader x avengers #wanda maximoff #fanfic #mcufam #stark reader #captain america #civil war

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man x daughter!reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years

Text

Just Roommates

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: none?

A/N: this my contribution to @asonofpeter‘s 1k Writing Challenge. I chose Roommate AU and the quote “We got five minutes, hurry up.” As always, let me know what you think and leave a comment/message me if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future works!

Masterlist

___

You woke up that morning filled with nervous anticipation. Tonight was the night of the annual Stark Industries Gala and somehow you’d received an invite. Well, it wasn’t actually much of a mystery. You were going as a plus one to your roommate Peter, who’d been working for Stark Industries for years, having started as an intern during high school. In past years Peter had gone stag or brought whatever girl he was seeing at the time but this year he invited you, saying it was only fair since you were living together. He didn’t think it was fair to leave you home alone on a Friday night when he didn’t have a significant other to invite anyway.

So you had pushed aside the little voice in the back of your head that wished that he had asked you for different reasons, marked your calendar, and let yourself actually get excited about the evening. It was an opportunity to wear a beautiful dress and spend time with one of your best friends. Plus, how many people get to say they’ve been to a Tony Stark gala?

That was the energy you tried to carry with you when you woke up that morning, pushing aside your thoughts on how you wound up here and your nerves over the kinds of people you’d be meeting. Only excitement.

Excitement was certainly all you felt when you pulled your floor-length gown out of your closet later that day. You took your time getting ready, making sure your hair was perfect and your eyeliner was just right. You finished just in time, slipping your dress on and miraculously managing to zip it up yourself. You were shocked slightly when you looked at your phone to see that you only had five minutes until you needed to leave in order to make it to the gala on time. You hurried across the hall to Peter’s room, intending to let him know you were ready and remind him that you needed to leave soon.

You leaned against the door slightly as you brought up your fist to knock, assuming it would take him a moment to reach the door. However, your fist never even had a chance to connect with the wood as the door opened almost immediately and you were falling forward, having lost your balance. Before you’d even been able to think about breaking your fall, strong arms wrapped around you, holding you up and pulling you into an equally strong chest. When you looked up your faces were inches apart and your breath caught in your throat, heart hammering inside your chest.

Okay so maybe you had a little crush on your roommate.

When your eyes finally connected with his warm brown ones your heart seemed to beat impossibly faster.

Okay so maybe you had a big crush on your roommate.

You cleared your throat, reluctantly stepping out of Peter’s arms. He took advantage of the movement, taking in your ensemble.

“W-wow, y/n, you look… breathtaking,” he stuttered out, actually sounding breathless.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at the compliment and looked down at your hands, unable to look him in the eyes at that moment.

“Thank you. You…” you began to return the compliment but finally took notice of his own ensemble. “Are not even ready! Peter!” You exclaimed in disbelief, staring disapprovingly at the boy still clad in joggers and a t-shirt.

“It’s okay, we’ve still got…” he trailed off as he turned to look at his clock before finishing dejectedly, “Hardly any time left.”

“We got five minutes,” you said sternly as you stepped out of his room. “Hurry up.”

You closed the door behind you, rolling your eyes and letting out a light chuckle of disbelief at the boy. You returned to your own bedroom, slipping on your shoes and your coat, ensuring you’d be ready to walk out the door as soon as Peter was ready.

He walked out of his room exactly seven minutes later with his tie hanging dejectedly from his hands and a sheepish look on his face.

“Oh c’mon Pete, don’t tell me one of the brightest minds of our generations doesn’t know how to tie a tie,” you teased and he blushed.

“Well, I can’t speak for any of those people but I certainly don’t,” he replied cheekily and you rolled your eyes, nimbly fastening the fabric around his neck.

“You’re lucky I had a weird tie phase in middle school,” you said, patting his chest and stepping when you had finished. “Now let’s go, we’re gonna be late!”

___

The ballroom and people inside it had been nothing like you’d imagine. The room itself was beyond elegant and hands-down the most lavish room you’d ever been in in your life. When you first walked in you had whispered something to Peter about Tony Stark being a great decorator but Peter quickly assured you that it had all been Stark Industries’ CEO, Pepper Potts. As for the people, you’d been beyond nervous about meeting Peter’s coworkers as they were pretty much exclusively superheroes but it turned out that they were also people too and they all seemed to know who you were before you’d even been introduced.

Tony Stark had been the first to greet you.

“Glad to see you made it Pete,” he said, directing a tight-lipped look of disapproval at your friend and your eyes grew wide in shock, certain you were in trouble for being late but Peter rolled his eyes and smirked.

“I see you finally brought Y/N though so I suppose you’re forgiven,” Stark continued dramatically and you gapped, surprised the billionaire knew your name. “Glad to finally meet you.” He winked, kissing the back of your hand. You were certain your eyes must be bugging out of your head.

“Alright I have to go make my rounds, the bar is over to the right. Have fun kids,” He clapped Peter on the shoulder, sending one more wink and a smile towards you before disappearing into the crowd.

“Why does Iron Man know who I am?” You asked quietly once the man in question had disappeared and heat rose to Peter’s cheeks.

“Oh, I- I’ve mentioned you before,” Peter explained vaguely but before you could interrogate him further you came face to face with another Avenger.

“Ah young Parker, is this the famous Lady Y/N?” Thor boomed, appearing at Peter’s side.

“You mentioned me to the god of thunder?” You hissed to Peter but apparently, Asgardians had better hearing than you had expected.

“Yes! Peter speaks of you highly and often!” Thor answered in Peter’s place and his face turned scarlet.

“Alright, well, we’re headed to the bar. It was nice talking to you, Thor!” Peter rushed out, grabbing your wrist and practically dragging you away from the god.

“Oh, Parker, there’s some Asgardian mead behind the counter if you’d like,” Thor called after you and you turned to give him a curious look. “Not for mortals,” he added in response to your look and you frowned, turning back to Peter.

“If it’s not for mortals then why did he-“ you started to ask Peter but he cut you off.

“Who knows, he’s probably drunk already! Anyway, wine?”

You accepted the glass, shooting the boy a look of concern, wondering what had gotten into him but deciding not to ask. If he wanted to keep secrets that was his right.

Once you’d gotten your drinks Peter led you around the ballroom, introducing you to the rest of his super-human coworkers. Your favorite was Shuri, the Wakandan princess who was around the same age as you and Peter. Not only was she a genius and gorgeous but she was funny too and you wished you could spend the rest of the night hanging out with her but she had to mingle and you had other people to meet. Next, you met Wanda and Vision, and then Bruce Banner, before reaching your last group: Steve Rodgers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Natasha Romanoff. Somehow, even after meeting a literal god and the Hulk, this was the most intimidating group of Avengers to you. However, after meeting them you realized you had nothing to worry about. They were kind and welcoming and, like the rest of the people you’d met tonight, seemed to know a lot about you already.

“You must be Peter’s girlfriend, we’ve heard a lot about you,” Steve had greeted you when you’d first walked over and you and Peter had both blushed, both stammering as you attempted to correct him.

“Oh I’m not-“

“She isn’t-“ you both interrupted each other before you turned to glare playfully at Peter.

“I’m his roommate, y/n,” you introduced yourself confidently, sticking your hand out which Steve shook gently.

“I’m sorry, with the way he spoke about you I just assumed,” Steve said sheepishly and you waved him off, going on to greet the rest of the group.

The six of you fell into easy conversation after that, until Sam asked if you’d met all the Avengers yet.

“I think I’ve met everyone now, except Spider-Man,” you smiled, knowing that with his top-secret secret identity Spider-Man wouldn’t attend such a high-publicity event like this.

The group chuckled at that, sharing a knowing look with each other which you assumed was because they knew Spider-man’s true identity.

“That’s a good one,” Bucky said, having laughed just a bit louder than the rest of the group.

“I don’t get it,” you said, puzzled.

“Cause you came here with Spider-Man,” Bucky explained, looking at you funny.

“I- what?” You asked, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of you and the rest of the group looked on in horror. You whipped around, staring at your roommate and friend who was glaring daggers at Bucky. “Peter?”

“Can we talk in private?” Peter asked quietly, seeming to be almost folding into himself.

You nodded, taking his hand and silently following him through the crowds to an empty hallway.

Peter leaned against the wall, dropping your hand and staring at the ground, refusing to meet your eyes.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you said quietly, not wanting to be another burden on the boy who you now realized already carried more burdens than you could even imagine.

Peter took a deep breath before launching into the story, telling you all about how he was bitten by a radioactive spider on a school field trip. About how it wasn’t until after his Uncle Ben died that he became Spider-Man. About how Tony Stark discovered him through YouTube videos and recruited him to fight in a war when he was only fifteen. He explained that his high school internship and current job were actually a cover for his Spider-Man responsibilities.

“And I was afraid to tell you because sometimes when people know who I am they get hurt and I- I don’t want to lose you. I love you-“ Peter rambled before abruptly stopping, his eyes wide as they flicked up to yours as he realized what he’d said. “I’m sorry, I- it just slipped out and-“

“Peter, I love you too,” you confessed, cutting him off and you swore his eyes got even wider at that.

“Can I- can I kiss you?” Peter asked quietly and hopefully and you couldn’t help yourself from letting out a short laugh as you nodded.

Then he was surging forward, one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist as he connected your lips. Your own hands wrapped around his neck, playing with the baby hairs there as your lips moved in sync. When you finally broke apart you rested your forehead against his, looking shyly into his eyes as he grinned down at you.

“We should probably go back out there,” you whispered.

“Yeah, we probably should,” he whispered back before pulling you in for another kiss.

#asonofpeter's 1k writing challenge #peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #avengers #spiderman #spider-man #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #spiderman fic

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