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therealdisneyfan2319 · 1 year

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Undercover | Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Y/N and Wanda are sent on an undercover mission together. There's just one slight problem: she hates him.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: SMUT (minors dni), angst, language, violence

Word Count: 4.8K

Masterlist

A/N: This was a request from @maximofflover. This was a heluva time to write and I had so much fun with it! And yes I have been watching too much Golden Girls thanks for asking

“If you two don’t stop fighting I’m putting you both in a time out. I’m not even joking,” Tony threatened over his shoulder as he piloted the Quinjet. “I swear to god.”

“Tony, man, she started it!” Y/N protested.

“I don’t care who started it, Y/N. I’m finishing it.” Tony kept both hands on the controls as he stared straight ahead. “Sit down and shut up.”

“So you’re gonna yell at me but not her?” he pointed at Wanda. “What the hell man?”

“Alright that’s it. You sit over there next to Bucky. Maximoff, next to Romanoff.”

“Me? I didn’t say anything!” Wanda protested.

“SIT. DOWN. NOW.”

Arms crossed and mumbling under their breath, Y/N and Wanda sat in time out. The rest of the team sat in stunned silence, fearing they too might get a time out if they dared to open their mouths.

Y/N huffed as he slunk down in his chair, arms crossed as he slumped back and glared at Wanda. She glared right back at him. Her eyes glowed scarlet as she bore into his soul.

You’re so dead, L/N, she thought.

Fuck off, Maximoff, he thought so loudly he hoped she’d hear it.

Y/N didn’t know what it was about her. She seemed to absolutely hate him. Every thought, every word, every action of his caused a fight or a snide remark. Most times she pretended he was invisible. Her dismissive attitude not only bothered him, it hurt him. As much as he fought with her, he’d always nursed a sweet spot for the witch. He’d never been able to make his feelings known. How could he? She’d humiliate him. So to counteract those feelings he’d adopted a sort of playboy persona. It was a totally foreign idea to him at first, but once he got the hang of it he learned it was fun being a flirt. Dating apps were his best friend. After a while he had a rotation of girls he could call for hookups. He even expanded his flirtations to members of the Avengers. He’d casually dated Yelena and Kate at separate points, and there was the one Christmas party where he’d fucked Natasha in the hall closet…But Wanda? He couldn’t even get close to her. He used the other girls to distract himself from his feelings, but there were many nights he fantasized about the redhead while he was buried deep in someone else.

They sat in an awkward silence for the remainder of the flight. Y/N would glance up at Wanda every so often only to be met with a cold glare in return.

“L/N, Maximoff, stay behind please,” Tony asked as they landed. Y/N groaned as he stood up, dreading the thought of another Tony lecture. Tony worked his way to the center of the ship. He stood with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised, totally unamused. Y/N shuffled over to him, hands shoved in his pockets. Wanda stood next to him, her body language stiff and rigid. She obviously wanted to be there just as badly as he did.

Tony looked from one to the other and sighed. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but you’ve gotta knock it off. Cut the bullshit, stop the lovers quarrel, and get focused, okay?” Y/N shrugged while Wanda huffed as she rolled her eyes. “Good. Glad we’re in agreement because I’m sending you two out on a mission next week,” he smirked.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Y/N ask as Wanda’s jaw fell open in disgust.

“Nope,” Tony shook his head. He seemed to enjoy torturing the two of them. Like making them interact with each other was a personal triumph of his. “You’ll be going undercover. We’ve received some intel that one of the last surviving heads of HYDRA is attending an underground auction out in Boston. You two will be posing as Mr. and Mrs. Nylund, a socialite couple from Minnesota who made their fortune as jewel smugglers.”

“Married? Right, that’ll go well,” Wanda complained.

“Your mission,” he continued despite their protestations, “is to observe. See what they bid on, listen to what they tell you. We can use what you give us to find where HYDRA may still be operating. And don’t worry, Maximoff. This man had nothing to do with what happened to you. We can give you a disguise if you want, but that man won’t know you from Adam.”

“So how long are we going for?” Y/N asked as he shifted from one foot to the other, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Three days, two nights in a five-star hotel. Honeymoon suite, of course,” Tony grinned as Wanda rolled her eyes.

“At least the bed’ll be big enough that we’ll be sleeping in separate zip codes,” she grumbled.

“Hey, at least I’ll be able to say I slept with Wanda Maximoff,” he jabbed. She shot him a warning look.

“Stop complaining, you leave next Friday. Now go on, shoo, get out of here,” he said, motioning to the lowered door.

Wanda wasted no time as she turned on her heel, storming off the ship. Y/N shot Tony a look as he too left the ship, grumbling to himself about his upcoming travesty. A weekend with Wanda Maximoff all to himself? His heart was aflutter. A weekend alone with Wanda Maximoff that would probably end with her finding more ways to humiliate and insult him? His heart sank. It was a ‘damned if you do damned if you don’t situation. He shoved his hands back in his pockets, keeping his head down as he sped past Wanda.

“Don’t expect me to pretend we’re happily married, Y/N. We’ve been on the verge of divorce for years,” she shouted.

He paused as she yelled. Turning around, he looked at Wanda with a smirk. “Oh I know, darling. That’s why I’m planning on having an affair while we’re there.”

Wanda looked as if she could kill him right then and there as he turned and headed back to the compound. He shook his head as he entered the building, walking towards the staircase to head up to his apartment. As he climbed stair after stair, he found himself face-to-face with Natasha.

“Tony spank the two of you for being naughty?” she joked.

“Worse. He’s sending us undercover together,” Y/N replied. “A weekend in Boston posing as a married couple.” He groaned as he threw his head into Nat’s shoulder. She awkwardly reached up to pat his head.

“Call me stupid, but isn’t that exactly what you want? A chance to be alone with her?” she asked. Natasha knew all about his love for Wanda. The two had been hooking up on and off since that Christmas party. It was just sex between the two of them, nothing more. But after a few months of their trysts, he’d confessed his unresolved feelings for the witch to her.

“Yeah. But we both know how this will end. She’ll end up fighting with me over something I did and then she won’t talk to me,” he complained.

Natasha sighed as she pushed his head off her shoulder. “Come on, Hefner. Why don’t we go take your mind off this?” She grabbed his hand and dragged him up to her apartment where she spent the rest of the evening successfully distracting him from his nagging feelings. What neither of them realized is that at one point Wanda walked past Natasha’s apartment on the way back to her own, hearing more than she’d ever wanted to, before storming off and slamming her door shut with her magic.

***************************************************************************************

“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you,” Wanda told him as she threw her suitcase onto the oversized California king. “You can have the couch.”

“Worried that you won’t be able to resist me if you’re sleeping that close to me?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Get changed, we’ve got an hour until we’re supposed to be there.” She grabbed her makeup bag and headed for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Yup, this is going to be a great weekend,” Y/N mumbled as he hung his garment bag on the back of the closet door. “Thanks, Tony.” He started to strip out of his clothes, throwing his sweater and jeans on the couch he had been banished to. As he stood there in nothing but his underwear, the bathroom door opened. “What’d you forget?” he asked as Wanda crossed over to the bed.

“My dress,” she replied as she grabbed the white garment bag that was lying on the bed. She picked it up and looked at him as he stood there in his underwear. Her gaze lingered over his body for a long moment before she shook her head and retreated to the bathroom. He didn’t think about it too much as he continued to put on the new tux Tony had bought him specifically for the mission. As he looked in the mirror and fiddled with his bow tie, he saw the door open as Wanda stepped out. She was wearing a gorgeous black dress, her hair all drawn up as she looked at him. “Can you zip me up?” she asked, embarrassed at the question.

“Uhh, yeah,” Y/N replied. He shook his head to snap himself out of the trance her body had put him in. She turned around, clutching the front of her dress to her chest as he walked toward her. He grabbed the silky fabric with one hand and the zipper with the other, drawing the back taught against her skin as he zipped her up.

“Surprised that you know a zipper goes more ways than just down,” she said, her tone brusque, “what with all those girls you bring home from parties or wherever you go to meet people for a quick lay.”

“Well, Wanda, maybe I’m just that good,” he shot back, patting her on the back as he brought the zipper to the top. Was she really picking this moment in time to shame him about his hookups?

“Don’t get cocky. We’ve got to get going,” Wanda huffed as she reached for her clutch on the nightstand. “Do you have everything?” Y/N nodded as he felt around his pockets for his wallet, keys, pistol, and earpiece. “And try to behave, okay? Don’t make yourself look like the playboy you are, Mr. Nylund.” “Wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Nylund,” he grumbled back as he held the door to their hotel room open for her.

***************************************************************************************

“Well that was a bust,” Y/N declared as he sat at the bar, a beer in his hand. “I cannot believe that sod spent the entire night talking about his new farm. Nothing, absolutely nothing about anything related to HYDRA or smuggling or anything illegal!” “Relax, we’ve still got tomorrow and Sunday to get what we need,” Wanda reminded him as she sipped on a glass of red wine. “It looked like you still had a good time.”

“If you consider talking with the former head of a fascist organization fun then I had an absolute ball,” he snorted into his beer.

“Oh, I’m talking about the blonde who couldn’t keep her hands off you. I thought that Mrs. Nylund was going to be spending the night alone,” she snipped as she took another sip of her drink, swirling it around to paint the insides of the glass.

“Sounds like somebody’s jealous,” he teased, raising his eyebrows as he took another swig.

“Pfft. Yeah right.” She rolled her eyes at him, turning away to look at the other end of the beer.

“I have to pee,” he said as he placed his beer on the bar. “I’ll be back.” She didn’t answer as he made his way to the back of the bar.

As he stood at the urinal, he kept wondering how on earth he was going to deal with two more days of this. It was one thing to have Wanda constantly argue with him. That he was used to. It was completely different to have to pretend they were married. She was good at turning on the charm: she’d hardly let go of his hand or his arm the entire time they were at the gala earlier in the evening. He’d relished in the minute bits of contact. She looked at him differently, too. There was a smile in her eyes that he’d seen when she was around other people, but never him. To top it all off she looked absolutely gorgeous all dressed up. He’d tried to not stare too much, but he couldn’t help himself. It fit with the parts they were playing, he argued to himself.

He washed his hands, splashed some cool water on his face, and left the bathroom, intent on heading back to the bar and ordering another drink. But he was met at the bar by a strange man sitting in his seat, engaging Wanda in conversation. He could see she was talking and giggling with this stranger, which made his blood boil. Y/N tried to contain himself, but when this man reached out to run his hand up her thigh he saw red.

“Hey pal, hands off my wife,” he snapped as he stormed over to the bar.

“This is your husband?” the stranger asked Wanda incredulously. She nodded, eyebrows raised as she looked at him.

“Yeah, I’m her husband. So why don’t you get your hands off her before things get ugly, asshole?”

The stranger looked at Wanda, sighed, patted her thigh twice, and stood up. He was taller than Y/N by a good six inches. Staring down at him, he dropped his voice to a smidge above a whisper.

“You know, she didn’t even mention she had a husband. So what does that say about you? Because until right now, she was all ready to come back up to my room so I could show her-”WHAM! Y/N landed a punch square on the other man’s nose. The stranger clutched his face and stumbled back, dazed by the sudden impact. He pulled his hand down to look at it: it was covered in blood.

“Fuck you, man! Stay away from her!” Y/N shouted, his fists balled in fury.

“Y/N stop it!” Wanda shouted, placing her drink on the counter and standing up from her seat. She rushed over to grab Y/N but he had charged back at the stranger.

POW! BAM! The stranger landed two solid blows on Y/N’s face. He staggered backwards, falling into the bar. He felt something warm start to stream down from his eyebrow and tasted blood in his mouth. His head was spinning, but that didn’t matter. He wanted to beat this jerk to a pulp. He tried to push himself up from the bar but was stopped by Wanda pushing him back.

“Stay down,” she hissed. “Let me deal with this.”

Looking over at the stranger, who was reaching into his jacket for something, she subtly flicked her wrist as her eyes glowed red. Y/N watched as the man’s eyes turned red. He removed his hand from his jacket, turned, and immediately exited the bar.

“Thanks,” Y/N sighed. He ran his tongue over his lip. The bottom one was split in the middle. The metallic taste of blood soured his mouth.

“Unbelievable,” Wanda scolded. Her eyes were still burning red as she looked at him. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” She helped him up and threw his arm over her shoulders. He used her to balance on as she helped him stumble out of the bar and to the elevator that was open and waiting for them.

They stood in silence as they rode the elevator up to their floor.

“Wanda, I-”

“Shut up.” Something in the way she said it made him immediately obey. He remained silent as they walked down the hall to their room. He remained silent still as she told him to sit on the edge of the bed while she changed out of her dress into a pair of sweats and a t- shirt and fished the first aid kit out of the bathroom. He even remained silent as she straddled his lap to get a better look at the cuts on his forehead and lip.

“What the hell were you thinking, Y/N? We’re not supposed to draw attention to ourselves here. Did you think that punching someone wouldn’t draw attention to us? I mean he was trying to pull his gun on you!” She dabbed at his wounds with a washcloth, staining the white fabric red. “I should’ve figured you’d do something stupid like this. I don’t know why Tony couldn’t have sent literally anyone else on this mission instead.”

Even though Wanda was holding his head up, Y/N avoided making eye contact with her, opting to look at the ceiling as she dabbed at his wounds. But at her last remark he turned his head away from her. He felt ashamed at the fact he’d let his emotions get the better of him. He’d put their whole mission at risk. That and he felt just plain stupid. He blinked quickly, hoping to dispel the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes.

Wanda stared at him as he shook his head away from her. Sighing, she gently placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face to look at her. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked, utterly defeated.

“What?”

“Why do you hate me so much? I don’t get it. I’ve never done anything to you. You go out of your way to pick fights with me or insult me and I can’t understand it. So why, Wanda? Why do you hate me?” He felt sadness stirring inside him as he asked her the question that had long been on his mind.

Wanda stared at him for what felt like an eternity. She opened her mouth to speak a couple of times, but shut it immediately. She pursed her lips together as she looked down at his lap and sighed.

“I don’t hate you,” she admitted, looking back up at him, her hands still on his face.

“Well you sure have a funny way of showing it,” he retorted.

“You’re always with other girls, okay? Either it’s one of those Tinder girls or someone you met at a bar or it’s Nat or Yelena and I hate it. I hate it because it’s never me. I get jealous that I walk by Nat’s apartment and hear you moaning her name and not mine, alright? I don’t hate you, Y/N, I actually really like you. But you never seemed to want to stop living your Hugh Hefner fantasy long enough to actually give a damn about my feelings.”

“Wanda-”

“No, you know what? Forget it. I don’t care. Do whatever you want.” She threw the washcloth on the bed, her face drawn up in a frown, as she stood up from his lap. But Y/N grabbed her and pulled her back down. He reached up with both hands to grab her head and pull it against his so their foreheads were touching.

“The only reason I hook up with so many girls is so I can get my mind off of you for five goddamn minutes, Wanda,” he whispered harshly. “And even then it doesn’t work. Because all I do is think about you. And I thought if I was with someone else it would go away. But it doesn’t. It never does.” He felt blood dripping off his face and onto his white shirt as the words tumbled out of his mouth. “The other night with Nat all I could think about was you. I am so goddamn in love with you, Wanda. I don’t want anyone else in my life. I will gladly give up-”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish. Before he realized what was going on he felt Wanda grab his face and slam her lips into his. He moaned at the sensation, the taste of the margarita she’d drunk lingering on her lips. He kissed her greedily. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her. He bit down on her lip, drawing a moan from her. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her open mouth. Their tongues entwined as they explored each other’s mouths. As they kissed, Y/N dragged his hands down her back to the hem of her shirt. She broke away from his lips long enough for him to raise it over her arms and throw it behind her. He looked up at her, her lips swollen and eyes wide with desire before reaching up to grab the back of her head as he started to kiss her neck.

“Shit,” she moaned as he nibbled at the sensitive skin on her neck. He wanted to mark her, claim her as his. He sucked and bit down her neck, sliding his tongue over each bruise he made. She whimpered at the sensation of being branded by his mouth.

Wanda’s neck was covered in red and purple bruises by the time Y/N was done. He smiled as he admired his artwork. “You’re all mine, Wanda,” he whispered as he ran his hands through her hair.

“Make me yours,” she sighed, pulling on her hair.

Grinning, Y/N wrapped his arms around Wanda’s midsection and rolled her onto her back. He straddled her as he unbuttoned his shirt, eyeing her bare chest hungrily. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, throwing his shirt behind him and pressing his bare chest against hers. She grabbed his neck as she pulled him down to kiss her. He relished every second spent with their lips pressed together. It was better than anything he’d ever experienced before. As desire coursed through his veins, he rolled his hips down into hers.

“Oh god,” she groaned.

“Did you like that, princess?” he teased, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. All Wanda could do was nod. “Good.” He began kissing his way down her neck to her chest, stopping to fondle her breasts, then down her stomach and stopping at the waist of her sweatpants. He felt her breath hitch as his hot breath caressed her skin.

“Y/N-” she begged. He hooked his thumbs into the band of her sweats, pulling them and her panties down her legs. Y/N heard his heart pounding in his ears as he stared down at her pussy. Lowering himself down so his mouth was hovering over her most sensitive area, Wanda spread her legs to grant him access to herself. He dove down and started lapping at her hungrily. A loud moan erupted from Wanda at the contact. He found her clit, sucking and swirling the sensitive bud. As he pleasured her with his mouth he slid a finger into her, curling the digit against her most sensitive spot.

“Shit,” she moaned, arching her back into the bed at the feeling. He smiled against her glistening cunt as he fucked her. Her breathing became more erratic as she squirmed against him.

“You’re doing so well,” he praised as he inserted another finger into her. “You’re doing such a good job at taking my fingers.” Y/N continued to curl inside her as Wanda bucked her hips to meet him.

“Don’t stop baby,” she moaned, reaching up to clutch the pillow with one hand and using the other to shove his head back down. He flicked his tongue over her clit, reveling in the taste of her and her sweet juices. The way she clenched around his fingers told him that she was close.

“Let go, baby girl,” he cooed. Wanda felt herself come undone at his words, convulsing as her orgasm shot through her. A strangled scream left her lips as the pleasure became too much. Y/N left his fingers inside her as she spasmed around them, moving them gently to help bring her down from her high.

As Wanda regained her composure, gasping for air, Y/N wiggled his way up her body, positioning himself on top of her. Her face was flushed, strands of hair plastered against her glistening forehead. She watched him as he stuck his fingers inside his mouth, sucking off the remnants of her orgasm. “You taste delicious,” he whispered, smiling as he felt her body burn with desire under him. As he leaned down to kiss her, she rocked her hips against his. The subtle movement sent a jolt of desire through him. “You want more, princess?” he teased, his voice feigning pity.

“I want to feel all of you,” Wanda whispered as her eyes burned red with desire. Before Y/N could reply, Wanda rolled him over so that she was on top of him, straddling his hips. “I want you moaning my name like you were moaning Nat’s. I wanna make you feel so good that you forget about all those other girls,” she growled, leaning back to push her chest out towards him while using his thighs to support herself.

“I like when you try to take charge like this, sweetheart,” he grinned. He felt his cock twitch as she undid the buckle of his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down his legs as she eyed his erection hungrily.

Wanda chuckled as she leaned forward to kiss him, raising herself off him to position his cock at her entrance. She whimpered as she sank down on him, engulfing his entire length around her velvety walls. “God you’re so big,” she breathed, adjusting her hips to accommodate his size.

“You asked for it,” he replied as he grabbed her hips, coaxing them forward. Wanda groaned as she felt him rock his hips up into her, filling her to the brim. Placing her hands on his stomach, she began to rock back and forth on his cock. Y/N used his hands to guide the movement of her hips, keeping them steady as she faltered slightly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she whimpered. She bowed her head down as she picked up the pace, rocking into him hard enough that the bed began to shake under her movements.

“That’s it, baby girl. Ride my cock. I want you to come undone on me,” he breathed. He felt the familiar pressure building in his stomach as her walls teased him. Wanda groaned as she shifted her weight to her hands, lifting herself up before slamming her hips back down. The change in pace exhilarated Y/N as he found himself bucking his hips up to meet her thrusts.

“Oh god I’m close,” she cried as she rode him at a relenting pace. Y/N grabbed her and flipped her on her back. He buried himself inside her soaking pussy, her arousal dripping down onto the bed. She moaned and clawed at his back as he snapped his hips into hers again and again, the sound of flesh slapping echoing through the room.

“Wanda,” he moaned as he felt his orgasm approaching. “Oh god, Wanda, fuck, I’m-” She cut him off abruptly as she captured his lips in a harsh kiss, biting his bottom lip as he came inside her. She moaned into his mouth as he filled her with spurt after spurt of hot cum, the sensation sending her over the edge. He could feel her squeezing tightly around him, her body shaking with ecstasy.

In a matter of moments they were coming down from their highs. Y/N stared down at Wanda, her lips swollen from their passionate kiss. He was breathing hard, unable to slow his heart rate as she stared back up at him with those gorgeous green eyes. She reached a hand up to caress his cheek. “I think it sounds so much better when you’re moaning my name,” she whispered, a devilish twinkle in her eye.

Y/N laughed as he planted a kiss on her forehead. “You are so much better in every way, baby girl.” He collapsed on top of her and buried his face into her neck as she wrapped her arms around him, her fingers tracing the indents of his spine. “I love you,” he murmured into her neck. She smiled as she felt his smile press into her.

“I love you too,” she whispered. “Now if I’m not mistaken, Mr. Nylund, we still have two days left of our vacation.” Wanda let one of her hands trail down to smack his ass. “And I think we have a lot to make up for.”

"Well then, Mrs. Nylund, let's not waste any time."

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phillippadgettwrites · 2 years

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Mile High Club

Rated X / 2477 Words / Posted on AO3

Mulder stretches his jaw wide until his ears pop, and the volume in the airplane cabin bursts. The persistent hum of the engine and the rush of the pressurized air, as well as the chatter of the passengers around them, are all now several decibels higher.

He turns to look at Scully curled up against the wall of the cabin, her eyes cast out the window at the patchwork landscape of the midwest, and he feels a little thrill imagining what they might get up to later. Will he fuck her up against the door inside his apartment the moment they step through? Will he bend her over the arm of her couch and take her from behind, his thumb tucked into her asshole? While he wouldn’t object if she decided to overturn her rule about sex while on assignment, he will admit that the forced abstinence leads to some pretty incredible compensation when they touch down in DC.

“Then why did you agree to come in the first place?” the man seated just behind him says loudly, his voice dripping with irritation.

Scully turns her head away from the window sharply and looks at Mulder with raised eyebrows. He smirks, cocking his head in the direction of the voice, and they wait.

Over the years, they’ve found themselves audience to all kinds of awkward discussions while held captive in the air: break ups, confessions of infidelity, the ending of long-standing friendships. At first Scully pretended not to listen, and to be offended by Mulder’s eavesdropping, but now she is nothing short of delighted when a boring flight home becomes as dramatic as an episode of Jerry Springer.

“Keep your voice down,” the woman behind Scully hisses. “I came because I thought maybe things would be different for once, but I can already tell that they won’t be.”

“What are you even talking about?” the man whispers harshly.

Mulder pulls a pen and small spiral notebook out of the interior pocket of his suit jacket, turning it to a blank page and scrawling something before he hands it to Scully.

Stock broker, always at the office, never makes time for her.

Scully smiles and flips down her tray table, and is writing when the woman speaks again.

“You’ve barely said two words to me, Tony,” the woman says, equal parts anger and hurt in her voice. “It’s like I’m not even here.”

Scully passes the notebook back to him, and he lowers his own tray table as he reads.

Car salesman, obsessed with football, goes MIA from September to January.

“I told you I was going to be keeping an ear on the game, Amy,” Tony retorts, and Scully’s mouth falls open with surprise and delight as she takes her win.

Mulder shakes his head, bringing pen to paper.

“There’s always a game,” Amy grumbles, her voice fading as she turns toward the window. “It’s always something.”

The pad of paper lands back in front of Scully with a slap.

High school football star, never got over not living his dream of playing for the Chiefs.

“That’s not fair,” Tony says, his seat squeaking as he pivots his body towards Amy. “You know how important football is to me. It’s like you and your makeup thing.”

“My makeup thing?” Amy asks derisively, her head whipping back to address her husband. “You don’t even know what it’s called, do you?”

Scully writes furiously, trying to get something out before she can be proven wrong or right.

“Oh my god, Amy, don’t make this a bigger deal than it is,” Tony complains.

Scully hands Mulder the pad, on which she has written Mary Kay!!!! I’d bet money on it.

“The Chiefs were founded in 1960. Grbac is their quarterback. Cunningham is their coach. I listen when you talk, Tony,” Amy says cuttingly.

Tony heaves a sigh, offering no response. There’s a beat of silence, and Mulder writes I might have to give you this one, G-woman on the paper while Scully leans over and watches. She smiles, satisfied, and sits back in her seat.

“What is it that you think I get from this relationship?” Amy asks, not accepting Tony’s withdrawal from the conversation. “It’s a completely genuine question; I’d like to know.”

“Um, a roof over your head, food on the table, money for your—Sally Kay or whatever,” Tony lists off irately. “I bust my ass to provide that cushy life you enjoy, Amy. And sometimes when I get home, I just want to watch the game and relax without you getting all up my ass about some fucking socks on the floor.”

“Mary Kay,” Amy corrects him, and Scully grins victoriously.

“Mary Kay, whatever,” Tony spits back. “And I mow the lawn, and I take the trash out to the curb, and there’s the sex stuff, too. So if you think you can do better, by all means, go find a man who will do all that and also listen to you blab about what happened on Dharma and Greg.”

Amy scoffs, and Scully reaches across the armrest to write something on the pad.

The “sex stuff.”

Mulder looks at her questioningly and she holds up a finger, indicating that he should wait.

“Sex stuff?” Amy repeats, and Scully grabs his forearm.

“Don’t go there, Amy,” Tony warns. “That happens to everybody sometimes.”

Mulder draws a stick-figure image of a flaccid penis with a frowny face next to it and sets it on Scully’s tray table. She unsuccessfully stifles a laugh, and it comes out through her nose as an almost-snort.

“Yeah, I know it does,” Amy says, though her tone is less than reassuring. “But I think most men satisfy their wives in other ways instead of just turning over and going to sleep, Tony. In fact, I know they do because my girlfriends all tell me about their boyfriends and husbands doing things that—”

Amy stops speaking, and Mulder fights the urge to look back and see whether the couple are in a face-to-face standoff, or if she’s turned away from him again. Scully taps on his arm to draw his attention to the pad of paper.

He’s never made her orgasm.

His eyebrows lift and he looks at her face. He thinks about the first time he made her come, curled up on her living room couch with his fingers tucked inside her cunt. He thinks about the dozens of times since, the feeling of her contracting tightly around his cock, or his fingers, or his tongue. How that could not be a man’s singular focus when entering a sexual enounter with a woman is entirely beyond him.

He takes the pad of paper and taps the end of the pen against it, contemplating.

“Are you saying you’re not satisfied?” Tony asks, and for the first time he actually sounds concerned.

Amy sighs deeply.

“What is there to be satisfied by, Tony?” she asks, defeated. “Do you think I get off from you humping me for sixty seconds?”

I’ve made you orgasm…right?

He’s quite confident that the answer is yes, but some part of him worries that he’s an ignoramus like Tony whose confidence is rooted in ignorance. He holds the pad of paper for a moment, hesitating, then carefully sets it down on Scully’s tray table. She reads it but doesn’t look up, holding her hand out for the pen. Suddenly, his chest feels tight.

“I want to ask why you wouldn’t, but I’m guessing that’s a stupid question,” Tony replies, and Mulder can’t help but feel sorry for the guy.

“Jesus, Tony,” Amy says under her breath. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You just don’t care. About my hobbies, or my friends, or my orgasms.”

“Are you not—do you not—” he tries, but apparently can’t bring himself to ask the question.

“Sure I do,” Amy says, then adds, “but not with you.”

Scully finishes writing and hands him the pad. He steals a glance at her face, trying to prepare himself, but her expression is completely neutral.

I had an orgasm last night just thinking about all the orgasms you’ve given me lately, Mulder.

He feels blood rush to his cock and he shifts in his seat.

“You’re cheating?” Tony accuses, and Amy nearly laughs.

“No, Tony, I’m not cheating, Jesus Christ,” Amy corrects him.

“Are you saying you—” Tony says, then lowers his voice before he continues. “Are you saying you masturbate?”

Is that so? Tell me more.

He passes her the paper without looking at her, and listens to the scritch of the pen as she writes back.

“Are you saying you don’t?”

“Of course I do, but I’m a man,” Tony hisses.

“Women have needs too, Tony,” Amy hisses back. “I want to get off too, and you have proven to be absolutely no help in that department.”

I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about last weekend. On your couch? I almost broke my own rule and knocked on your door.

“It’s not my fault you’re—difficult.”

“I’m not difficult! You don’t even try. Have you heard of foreplay, Tony? Or oral sex?!”

On the couch? Do you mean when you rode me and I snuck a finger in your ass?

Mulder passes her the pad and adjusts his trousers, thankful that the tray table obscures the view of his lap. A flight attendant hurries down the aisle, stopping just past their row.

“Sir? Ma’am? I’m going to have to ask you to keep your voices down, please. There are children on the flight.”

“Sorry,” Tony says, chagrined.

That was fun too, but on the occasion I was remembering, it wasn’t your finger in my ass.

He suppresses a groan and writes back.

So you got yourself off thinking about me fucking your ass?

Correct.

How’d you do it?

With my fingers.

Inside? Outside?

Both.

I’m incredibly hard right now.

I can see that.

Can you?

You have a big penis, Mulder. It’s hard to hide.

He looks over at her and licks his lips. Her chest is heaving, and his eyes fall down to her lap.

Are you wet?

I imagine so.

Mile High Club?

In your dreams, G-Man.

I can’t wait to get home.

Your place or mine?

“I didn’t know,” Tony says quietly, and Scully pauses with her hand resting over the pad of paper, listening. “I thought you enjoyed it. You seemed like you did.”

Scully meets Mulder’s eye and holds it. He thinks of her gasping against his mouth, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. He thinks of her wet, slippery cunt strobing around him. He’s never had to wonder if she was enjoying herself.

“Sometimes I pretend that I do,” Amy admits.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Scully withdraws her hand and he reads her question. His place is a few minutes closer.

I’m going to bend you over the arm of my couch and fuck you so hard you can’t catch your breath.

Scully clears her throat when she reads it and squirms in her seat.

“Can I try to make it up to you?” Tony asks, deferential. “We have three days in DC. Maybe you could…teach me?”

I look forward to it.

“I can try,” Amy answers. “But you have to promise to be patient and not get frustrated.”

“I won’t,” Tony insists. “I promise.”

Mulder’s car is parked in the far corner of the overnight lot, a lonely island in a sea of gravel. The sun had already slipped behind the horizon before they exited the terminal, and yet the evening is comfortably warm.

He gets her in the back seat, her slacks and panties on the floorboards and her suit jacket tossed over the console. She’s leaning back against the car door, one hand gripping the headrest as he sucks her clit between his teeth. He has two fingers inside her, gently stroking her front wall, and the thumb on his other hand pressed firmly against her asshole. His eyes are on her face, illuminated by a slash of light from the parking lot, and he grinds his erection against the edge of the seat as he devours her.

“Oh,” she whimpers, her eyebrows pushed together and her mouth hanging open. “Oh god, yes, right there.”

He groans, flicking his tongue furiously across her clit and moving his fingers in the same gentle rhythm inside of and on her. He just wants to see it, to feel it, to know that he can do this to her. For her. For himself.

“Oh, I’m gonna come,” she whispers, her muscles tightening.

He’s careful not to change a thing, channeling his enthusiasm instead to the grind of his hips against the edge of the seat, the head of his cock bumping over the trim on each upward thrust. He feels her clench around his fingers, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps licking, keeps stroking, keeps pressing as she falls apart. There is no question as to what he’s doing to her. He’s making her come, hard, and wet and never ending, and he’s already making plans to do it again and again and again.

She reaches for him, though his fingers are still inside her, grabbing him by the shirt collar and pulling him up. She makes quick work of his belt, fly, boxers, pushing them down just far enough for his cock to spring free before she positions him at the entrance to her soaking cunt and grabs him firmly by the ass cheeks, taking him in fully with one thrust. He doesn’t last long, already three quarters of the way there between the plane and the ecstasy of tasting her as she came in his mouth. His hips snap and residual throbs from her orgasm push him up and over, drawing his balls close to his body before he erupts inside her. She holds him close, kissing his gasping mouth, until awareness of time and place returns incrementally.

“Let’s go to your place,” he says, breathless. “Your shower is bigger.”

She smiles and sighs happily, her hands on his ass holding him in place, not allowing him to withdraw.

“I like the way you think,” she says.

“So, just to be absolutely sure, did you?...” he asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“Do I strike you as the kind of woman who would fake an orgasm to protect a man’s ego?” she asks in return, one eyebrow cocked.

“No,” he agrees. “That’s one of the things I like most about you.”

They re-dress, drive to Georgetown, shower and fuck again. He listens to her talk about string theory, about a movie she wants to see, about nothing at all. He knows he’s not perfect, but he tries to be enough. He hopes he’s giving her everything she deserves, and more.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #xf fic #xf fanfic #smut #dana scully #fox mulder #xfiles

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dyinglikenarcissus · 2 years

Text

How It All Started

Bucky Barnes x Black Female Reader x Steve Rogers

Warnings: 18+ only! Language, nothing else really. This one’s short and sweet, an intro for our doll

Please don’t copy or repost my work, thanks! Plagiarism is rude

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated ☺️

1k words

Master List | Next Chapter

“A place all to ourselves!” Wanda cries after you and your two roommates finally finished moving in.

“Booze, parties, no curfew, boys,” Natasha listed. The last word rolling off her tongue suggestively.

“This is going to be amazing,” you sigh opening the door to the balcony and letting in some fresh air. You pat your back pocket and let out a feral whine. “Shit. I left my phone in the car. I’ll be right back,” you sigh and step out into the courtyard.

After being stuck in the dorms with every rule they could think of putting on you, it was a breath of fresh air to have a place to yourself.

Your school required that all freshmen spend their first year in the dorms with whatever grab bag roommates they gave you. You met Natasha and Wanda during orientation and instantly clicked.

They both hated their roommates while you had a one sided crush on yours who was already in a committed relationship so the three of you thought it was for the best to all move in together the second you got a chance. You were apartment hunting since the end of orientation and got on the waiting list for a beautiful townhouse rental community that was recently built off campus. It was perfect: you each had your own bedroom and bathroom, there were multiple pools, a tennis and basketball court, and a gym. You never had to leave. Except to go to class, of course. The day after school ended, you moved in. You still needed to find some furniture to make it more homey but the three of you could work on it over the summer and comfortably live out the rest of your academic careers in comfort.

You reach your little car and notice your phone on the dash board, just where you left it. You unlock it and snag the way word piece of technology, unlocking it to see if you missed anything while it was out of your sight.

Carol and Maria were on a celebratory beach trip, Clint posted a prank video he pulled on Laura, Tony was on live probably talking about how much smarter he was than everyone else and how he didn’t even study for his astro quantum physics or whatever exam and he got the highest score in history.

You met him once at a party. Why did you even bother following that guy?

You blink hearing Tony’s voice even though you never unmuted the video. You look at your phone and unmute it just to re mute it to confirm it’s not your phone his voice is coming from.

Bizarre, you think to yourself right before you crash into a wall and fall backwards onto your butt.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” The wall talks.

You blink and look up to see the wall has blond hair and blue eyes and such a perfect jaw you want to melt.

The wall of a man crouches down to your level to offer you a hand. “Are you hurt?” He asks, brow knitted in concern.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. You don’t know if the fall knocked the wind out of you or if you were at a loss for words at this beautiful man. “I can pick you up if you need me to,” he offers.

The thought of being cradle against his chest brings back your voice. “Um, no. I’m fine. I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

It seems you finally speaking calms him and his brow relaxes slightly.

“I think that makes two of us,” he smiles shyly and twitches his hand, reminding you that it’s there. You take it and feel how rough it is against your soft skin. He easily pulls you to standing with him and you can see how much taller he is than you. You almost whistle in awe looking up at him.

A plain white t shirt and grey sweats looked like a three piece suit on his sculpted body. You really wanted to touch but you retracted your hand from his once you were righted.

“Again, I am so sorry,” he frowns, seeming to look you over for injuries but you were sure all you’d have was a sore butt in the morning. You even managed to keep hold of your phone during he whole ordeal.

“No, really. I’m fine,” you insist, smiling up at him. He returns a soft grin and you almost melt. The reason you bumped into him in the first place pops back into your mind. “Were you watching Tony Stark’s live?”

He glances away, a soft blush tints his cheeks. “Yeah. It was more out of curiosity than anything,”

“Same,” you giggle. “I met him once at a party but his social media is kind of addicting. It’s kind of like watching a train wreck.”

The blond exhales a laugh that quickly becomes a chuckle. “I think that’s the best way to describe Tony, honestly. The man’s a genius, but, god is he full of it.”

“All my homies have a strong dislike for Tony Stark.”

“Isn’t it ‘all my homies hate Stewart Little’?” He asks cocking his head to the side. Oh, he’s cute.

“Yeah. But hate’s a strong word.” Well, Wanda might hate him.

“Are you new around here?” He asks changing the topic.

“Yeah. I just moved into 108.”

“Really? Then it’s nice to meet you, neighbor. I’m in 107.” Your mouth forms a small oh and you finally introduce yourself. “Steve Rogers,” the blond grins and extends his hand, “The old neighbors weren’t as easy on the eyes.” You feel your face heat at his comment. “I gotta hit the gym,” he smiles excusing himself. “Hey, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to drop by.” You nod and wave as he walks off towards the rec area.

God! That ass!

You bite your bottom lip and quickly search for ‘Steve Rogers’ on insta to stalk his page and curse that it’s private.

Maybe Facebook. You attempt to hunt this man down as you reenter your apartment distractedly.

“Get lost?” Nat asks hauling a box back upstairs.

“No,” you smile cryptically. “I just met one of our neighbors.” His Facebook was indeed public and he wasn’t shy about sharing photos either.

“What are they like?” Wanda asks stacking dishes in the kitchen.

You crock your finger for both of them to come see. You click on a photo of him beating up a punching bag to show your besties. “This is Steve Rogers.”

“What?” Natasha exhales.

“Wow,” Wanda grins.

“That is living next door to us?” Nat asks.

You nod. “In 107.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Wanda smiles before looking up at you with a suggestively raised eyebrow. “Did he flirt?”

“I’m not sure. He said I was easy on the eyes.”

“Interesting way to flirt,” the strawberry blonde mutters.

“Is he single?” Nat asks.

“His stat says ‘its complicated’,” you regurgitate after reading his profile.

“Complicated? How old is this kid? 12?” Nat chuckles before picking her box back up. You shrug and ponder your own pile of boxes.

“Oh well. Don’t get your hopes up too high and it won’t hurt when they fall,” Wanda states sagely. “I told Nat while you were out being easy on the eyes but Tony’s having an end of the year party. Vis invited us.”

“Vision’s inviting us places now?” You smirk tugging a box toward the stairs. You turn to watch a soft blush coat your best friend’s cheeks.

“As long as there’s free alcohol, I’m there!” Natasha shouts from upstairs.

“You know I’m going. I’ll take any chance to watch you and Vision make googoo eyes at each other,” you laugh and blink dramatically, clasping your hands in front of your chest.

“Go put your stuff away!” Wanda demands with a laughs.

Unpacking was just as much of a flurry as packing. Runs to discount furniture stores and Target seemed to happen once a day until the three of you threw away the last box together. You hugged and laughed and made a fancy dinner and invited over Vis, Pietro, and Clint.

It was great. The perfect start to your academic futures together.

Master List | Next Chapter

#steve rogers x black!reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #stucky x reader #college au #The Boys Next Door series

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stanknotstark · 3 years

Text

Curse Her (No Really)

So that’s the look i imagine is on Loki’s face when he’s like “Can’t know what?” Anyways I had this idea yesterday after thinking about how I grew into an allergy to acrylic. It started off as an idea to grow into an allergy to gold but then i was like NO what if Amora cursed you instead and just ran with it lol Also Uno is totally the Monopoly of card games, I play it with my friends online and there is constant back stabbing and yelling 😂

P.S. I nearly said pus-y but spelled it as pu$$y and just barely caught it holy cow that could have been bad 🤣

Summary: Amora curses you so you can’t wear gold anymore, the metal being Loki’s favorite type of jewelry to gift you and see you wear with pride. You don’t want to tell him because you’re strong and independent and can figure this out without him, right?

In hindsight you should have seen this coming, honestly.

You sit in the lab with Tony, you on his table, your legs dangling, and Tony in his seat looking over the holoscreen in front of him with a frown. Bruce is out of town being the humanitarian he is so Tony is left with the job of running scans on those who are affected in battle. You’re just lucky Loki joined the team and helped Tony and Bruce make machines that can scan magic.

“She cast a spell so you can’t wear gold anymore?” Tony says, his frown deepening. “That’s...a stupid curse.” Tony says looking a bit bewildered.

You let out a bitter chuckle. “She’s jealous that Loki is with me and knows that he loves to gift his sweethearts gold jewelry,” You tell the genius with a roll of your eyes. You look at the ground and sigh. “I suppose I should keep this a secret because if Loki finds out he’ll hunt down Amora and attack her. The last thing I want is Amora teasing me for not being able to fight my own fights.”

“That is a horrible idea,” Tony pips up looking at you sympathetically. “However, as the resident, number one placeholder of bad ideas, I say do exactly that if you’re really that turned off by some teasing.” Tony says, half heartedly trying to convince you to not follow through with this plan but knowing he failed by the pinched look on your face.

It only takes two days. Two. For Loki to realize you’re not wearing his jewelry.

You’re lucky he realizes while in the middle of a team bonding activity, card games.

“Darling, where’s your necklace?” Loki asks lightly as he watches Steve put down a reverse card so instead of being Clint’s turn it’s Tony’s. Clint responds by calling Steve a buttface causing Steve to laugh out of shock.

Your eyes flick over to Tony’s, whose eyes meet yours for a second before you’re both looking at the cards on the floor again. You don’t notice it but Loki definitely noticed the look you both shared but chooses to ignore it.

“I’m letting it soak, it needed to be cleaned and polished.” You easily slip the lie out of your lips. When you look at Loki you’re lucky he isn’t looking at you at first because he can usually read your lies. As he skims his eyes back over to you you let a soft smile slide over your lips to which the god answers with a tilt of his lips.

When he looks away you swallow, Tony catching your eyes and raising his eyebrows.

Tell him. Tony’s eyes flash.

Not right now! You push back through your eyes and a small shake of your head.

Tony rolls his eyes and that’s the end of that silent conversation.

The subject isn’t brought up again until the fourth day.

You know Loki has definitely caught on to the fact that you stay in Tony’s lab a lot recently but you’re thankful he doesn’t ask questions about it.

“Where are your rings?” Loki outright asks, grabbing your hand and rubbing over your fingers with his thumb, his face in a slight frown as he looks at your bare hands. He notes that you wear silver bangles instead of your usual gold.

You both are getting ready for a press release about Amora’s attack and usually you love to flash your jewelry to the public, as if yelling from the roof tops that Loki is yours when you’re adorned in his colors and gifts.

“I, uh, lost them,” You mutter out, playing it up and acting ashamed with your flushed cheeks and pulling your hand from Loki’s to hug yourself. “I’m sorry, I’ll find them though.” You bite your lip looking at Loki’s face. The god smiles tenderly and brings his hand up to caress at your jaw.

“It is fine. I will help you look for them when we have the time.” Loki tells you, his hand falling from your face to grab your hand and lead you from the room.

You totally miss the disappointed frown that passes over Loki’s face as you pass the dresser in the room and he sees the rings laying there.

By the sixth day Loki hasn’t said anything else about your missing jewelry. However, yesterday, a day after the press release, Loki had left your rings on your night stand without another word about them.

You can tell Loki is pulling from you, putting up walls that you had worked so hard to demolish. He seems more standoffish and irritated now if his scathing remarks to the team are a tell. You really should just tell him what’s going on but you’re stubborn.

Today, you sit with Tony in the lab hoping he’ll find a way to make this stupid curse just disappear. While you could wear the gold it would leave you with a noticeable rash within a few hours and if worn long enough pockets of pus appear. If Loki noticed that he would start asking questions you can’t, or rather don’t want to, answer

“I think we need to tell him, I’m honestly lost,” Tony says swiveling in his chair to look at you. “Magic isn’t my forte, it’s Loki’s.” He explains as if you don’t know that.

“Tony, Amora will never let me live this down. She will always belittle me for being weak and having to ask for help to figure this out.”

“Technically you’ve already asked for help...” Tony points out hesitantly.

“This is different. She will call me dependent on Loki, like I wasn’t a threat before he came along and I’m his little damsel in distress,” You say letting out a frustrated growl and covering your face with your hands. “I don’t know how to explain what I mean, ok, I just can’t tell Loki.”

“Uh...” Is all Tony says as you failed to notice someone else came into the lab.

“Look, I love Loki but he can’t know.” You say with finality, letting your hands drop.

“Loki can’t know what, exactly?” Loki asks in a smooth but dangerously low tone.

You gasp, jumping a little in your spot on Tony’s work table. Your eyes are wide as saucers and you’re sure you can feel the blood from your face leave.

Loki stands a few feet away with his arms crossed and a pissed look on his face.

The room is incredibly silent, the tension able to be cut with a dull butter knife. You’re lucky Tony comes to save you.

Tony sighs, brings a hand up to rub through his hair and looks at Loki with a grimace as if dreading to tell Loki a, false, secret.

Wow he was a great actor, shouldn’t be surprising considering he grew up under the paparazzi’s thumb but to see it in action? It’s shocking.

“She wants me to build her some armor. Says she feels inadequate next to all of us since she doesn’t have powers or anything cool other than pistols.” Tony, falsely, admits.

Loki frowns at Tony before his eyes slide over to you looking to see if Tony speaks the truth. You quickly make yourself believe Tony’s lie, putting on your brave face as you look at the God of Lies in the eyes.

You know you’ve succeeded because Loki drops his arms and walks over to you. Tony moves away to tinker with something else in his lab, giving you both space, and quickly flicking the holoscreen he had been looking at away before Loki gets a close look at it and it reveals your secret.

Loki spreads your knees so he may stand between your legs and brings a hand up to grip your chin and make you look up at him.

“You will never be inadequate. You deserve a spot on this team, powers or not. You are a formidable warrior and I’m honored to be able to fight by your side,” Loki tells you, his voice strong and confident, his eyes filled with love. “Why would you hide this from me?” He then whispers, his eyebrows stitched together in a hurt look.

You swallow the lump in your throat and consider telling Loki the truth as you look into his eyes and see how much he truly loves you. How much it hurts him to know you’ve been lying to his face.

“I-”

Suddenly the tower’s klaxons are roaring to life and causing the moment to be broken. You, Loki, and Tony stand at attention.

“Sir, Amora has breeched your defenses, she is fighting Mr. Rogers and Odinson on floor 84. I believe they have it handled though.” Jarvis supplies you all.

You and Loki quickly make your way to the floor, Tony lagging behind to put on his suit.

When you get there Steve and Thor have Amora bound with magic resistant cuffs as she kneels on the ground between them. When she sees you her eyes light up at the fact you are without any jewelry and gives a dark laugh.

“You haven’t rid yourself of my curse? I figured Loki would break it within 24 hours. You’re losing your touch aren’t you, mage?” Amora says looking over to Loki with a perfectly coiffed eyebrow raised in question.

Loki looks over to you with confusion on his face and you sigh. Of course the bitch had to ruin everything you’ve been avoiding.

“Oh,” Amora says, her face slack with shock. Then it splits into an evil grin. “He doesn’t know?”

You glance at Loki who is looking between the two of you with avid interest. Steve and Thor look confused as well. Tony’s suit clanks over to Amora and slaps a magic resistant gag over her mouth, giving you a look that tells you you need to tell Loki everything, now.

Steve, Thor and Tony leave with Amora leaving you in the silent room with a very confused Loki.

“What does she speak of?” Loki finally asks when you refuse to give him anything as you stand there looking at the ground like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “You’re cursed?” Loki asks, concern laced in his words causing you to feel worse.

You let a tear drop from your eye, blowing out a deep breath and looking at Loki.

“She cursed me so I can’t wear gold without getting a bad rash and pus pockets.” You let the words tumble out of your lips, a small hiccup coming out of your mouth at the end of the sentence.

Loki frowns at you, obviously wanting to comfort you but doesn’t reach for you yet. “That is why you haven’t been wearing my jewelry?” Loki asks for confirmation.

You nod, bringing a hand up to wipe at your tears.

You don’t expect it but Loki quickly envelops you into his arms in a crushing hug. One hand holding your head to his chest, the other rubbing over your back. His body relaxing into yours as if relieved.

“You’re not mad?” You ask the god shakily, your words hitting his chest as puffs of air from your mouth. You bring your arms up and hug Loki back.

“Darling, I thought you had grown tired of me, that you were slipping from my grasps, that you were going to ask to split any day now.” Loki says into your hair where he litters kisses. “I thought you had fallen for Tony.” Loki explains his own voice wavering a bit at the confession.

“What,” You say shocked, your arms squeezing Loki tighter at the realization of the hurt you put Loki through this past week, “No, never, Tony is my friend. I just didn’t want to have to be saved by you all the time. I don’t want to be your damsel in distress. I want us both to be dependent but also independent, that’s all.” You explain into Loki’s chest, your body now shaking with the emotions that overwhelm you.

Loki lets out a relieved laugh, pulling away just enough so he may look down at you. “You will never be a damsel in distress, with need of my help or not. I told you, you are formidable on your own, a warrior with a brave spirit.”

Suddenly you feel really stupid. Amora had gotten inside your head and screwed everything up. Loki was right, as he usually is.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Can you please break this curse so I can wear your jewelry again? I miss it, a lot.” You ask of Loki who only smiles at you fondly and nods.

“Of course, darling.”

#loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #my writing

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inkblot-inc · 1 year

Note

Jaws using Tony’s credit card to hunt down autographs from all of the Sitcom stars Wanda loves so much for the ultimate Christmas gift. Pepper even helps them find authentic signature and make sure they’re all in special frames. And Natasha teaches them how to wrap gifts. Jaws finds out they really like playing with tape.

This is SO-

Pepper really is the goat huh

I would say that it was easy enough to get Barbara Eden's autograph since she was on holiday in New York for a few days with her husband to look at some play on Broadway. It was going to look great next to Wanda's I Dream of Jeannie poster.

Jaws, Natasha, and Pepper went to get original autographs of Elizabeth Mongomery and Agnes Moorehead by paying off a private owner that had them as a part of his vintage collection. He was a bit fickle in his pricing at first, but with some convincing, he was able to part with them after all.

And finally, you were able to get an autograph from Dick Van Dyke directly. It took a while since you wanted to find a suitable date to meet with him, which wound up being the week of Christmas Eve. Natasha stayed back this time to distract Wanda from you being out of the compound almost all day. When you met him, he not only signed a separate piece of paper to frame, but he also signed Wanda's box set copy of The Dick Van Dyke Show that Jaws had "borrowed". He was so nice to talk to as well, I just feel it.

There's no doubt Wanda at the very least got teary eyed when she opened this set of gifts...

---

The gift wrapping definitely got a bit messy to start with, but the presents actually came out pretty good. It was one of those things that Jaws got better at with the more presents they wrapped. The first few look a little...remedial, but Natasha would just say that that gives them character.

First with the googly eyes and now with the tape T-T

The worst thing you could do afterward is leave decorative tape just lying around for Jaws to find-

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wolferine · 3 years

Text

Unforgivable - Part 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When the reader loses their temper, it causes them to commit an act they can never take back...

Warnings: Violence, blood, language

Word count: 2413

Part 2

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @lilclownx @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife @user19422004 @zoldszemulany56

You sit alone on a park bench, wearing a heavy black backpack filled with Hammer’s latest invention. He’s here too, more than a mile away, watching you from the shadows. Your task is to do all the talking and distracting; Hammer wants to take the kill shot. You don’t really care, as long as Tony Stark dies for what he did to Natasha.

At midnight exactly, Tony walks up to you, wearing a hoodie, jeans, and his signature sunglasses. However, you know from experience that Jarvis is inside the sunglasses, providing him with information about you and his surroundings.

“It’s a little late to be wearing sunglasses, isn’t it, Stark?” you say, standing up. Hammer lined your backpack with lead so Jarvis can’t see into it, but you’re still nervous.

“You know I have astigmatism,” he says.

“I don’t really care,” you respond. “Take them off.”

He doesn’t need a second warning.

“So, what’s up with you, Y/N?” Tony pockets the sunglasses. “Where have you been lurking all this time?” He stops about ten feet in front of you.

“Just…working through some things,” you reply.

“For six months?” Tony scoffs. “We waited for you to come back.”

“You know I couldn’t do that.” Your jaw clenches. “But for you, Stark? I’d make an exception any day of the week.”

“What’s up with all the theatrics tonight, huh? Would’ve been a lot simpler to have this chat at the Tower,” Tony says.

“I’m not an Avenger anymore.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” you snap, trying not to let your impatience show. You’re waiting for Hammer’s signal, but he seems to want to take his time. Your eyes drift to the glowing blue arc reactor in the center of Tony’s chest and you put your right hand in your pocket casually.

“Just spit it out, Y/N. Why am I here?”

“You’re here to die, Stark.”

“Well, have at it.” He opens his arms tauntingly and you tense, ready to tackle him to the ground and beat his head inside out.

“You killed Natasha,” you snarl, and his expression changes. But you don’t have time to process it, because suddenly, the watch on your wrist vibrates.

Hammer’s signal.

You take your hand out of your pocket, now holding onto a tiny sensor disk, which you throw at Tony’s chest. It latches onto his arc reactor and powers it down instantly, preventing him from activating his Iron Man suit.

Then you dive to the ground, because Hammer starts blasting away with his rifle.

Tony catches a few bullets in his chest and legs, unable to react to both threats at the same time. He falls onto his back, blood pooling around his body as he gasps for air. You activate Hammer’s suit, which tears out of your backpack, covering your torso and limbs in a thin layer of metal armor.

You climb to your feet, your helmet snapping over your head, and charge towards Tony. But something—or someone—completely blindsides you, sending you skidding in the direction of the carousel.

It looks like a variation of Iron Man, although the suit is smaller and more feminine. The colors are black and red, evoking a pang of familiarity in your chest. You stand again, an eight-inch blade shooting out of your right wrist, and you beckon the Iron Woman (?) to come at you.

She does, but when you swing your blade at her, she blocks it and punches you so hard in the chest you fly back into the carousel and knock a horse completely off its pole. You’re pretty sure you cracked a rib as your breathing sends a stabbing pain up your side. You hang onto a bench to get up, and suddenly the carousel comes to life, lights flashing and music crackling through the speakers.

You’re transported back to the day you were last here with Natasha, when you asked her to be your girlfriend.

Both of your horses are out of sync. When she goes up, you go down, and neither of you can stop laughing. You’re pretty sure you’re the oldest adults on the carousel without kids, but you don’t care.

The way her hair effortlessly blows in the wind and the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs lights up your heart, and you still can’t believe she chose you over everyone else in the world. You’ve never been so in love with another human being before, and you don’t think there will ever be another like her.

When the rides end, you take her hand and lead her to an empty patch of grass in the shade of a tree.

“Natasha, will you go out with me?” you ask, your voice trembling. She nods and brushes her fingers over your cheek. “I promise to keep you safe and love you every day for the rest of my life—”

“Calm down, it’s not a marriage proposal.” Natasha laughs as you sweep her off her feet. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Just preparing.” You kiss her and feel her smile against your lips. You’ve never been happier.

You’re so stuck in your head you don’t even notice the Iron Woman coming after you until she punches you in the face. You stagger back, stunned, as she punches you several more times. The face of your helmet snaps off and you feel your nose bleeding. You slash out with your blade wildly, forcing the Iron Woman to back off.

“Y/N,” the Iron Woman says, and you don’t even care how she knows your name, “You need to stop.”

“Get out of my way.” When you leap towards her, she lifts her foot and kicks you in the chest. You somersault backwards, head over heels, as she retreats. The rotating platform of the carousel does nothing to help your balance and the lights and noise distract your focus. You crouch behind a stationary horse, searching for her amongst the painted animals.

You break the blade off your wrist, poised to throw like a javelin. When the Iron Woman pops out from behind a black horse, you bring your arm back to throw the blade, but she fires from her gun before you can. The bullet bounces off a pole and buries itself in your left cheek.

The pain is like a branding iron as you scream and fall to your knees, the blade slipping out of your fingers. Blood pours out of your mouth, the taste of metal coating your tongue as you gingerly reach in to swipe the burning chunk of lead over your teeth. You finally spit the bullet out, but the pain persists.

The Iron Woman holsters her gun and approaches you, thinking you’re too distracted to notice. But you do, another blade flicking out of your left wrist and you ram it into her thigh as hard as you can. The blade crunches through the plates of her armor, but she elicits no reaction to being stabbed.

“Y/N,” the Iron Woman repeats.

“Just die already!” you scream, withdrawing the blade and trying to stab her again.

The Iron Woman’s helmet slides back and you freeze when you see her face.

It’s Natasha.

Immediately, your anger melts into confusion and happiness.

“H-How…How is this possible?” you stammer, more blood spilling from your lips. “T-They…They told me you died.”

“No.” Natasha shakes her head, kneeling to your level. “But you never came back for me.”

“Because I hurt you—” Hammer had said she was dead, and that Tony—no—you—had killed her.

“I forgive you, Y/N. For all of it.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” You stumble back, tears and blood mixing on your face.

“Please come back to me, Y/N,” Natasha begs, as your head spins from the turn of events. “I still love you.”

Suddenly, it’s like all of Hammer’s training reverses. Tony was never the one responsible for harming Natasha—you were. And now Tony’s bleeding to death, which was again, your fault. You won’t let this rest on your conscience. You’ve done enough damage and now it’s time to redeem yourself, as little as you can.

“This is all Justin Hammer’s doing,” you say, letting Natasha pull you to your feet. “He’s had me kidnapped for the past six months. He thought I would be able to help him kill Tony, but he’s not going to be successful anymore. Because you weren’t part of the plan.”

Natasha smiles and you feel your heart melt. Whether or not she’ll take you back, you owe this to her.

“He’s about a mile out, west from here. He has no guards—arrogant bastard—it’s just him and his rifle. You go get him and I’ll get Tony,” you say. Natasha nods and flies off. For a moment, you’re filled with jealousy over her suit. How come Tony never made you one?

You make your way off the carousel and find Tony still on the ground. You check his pulse. It’s weak, but there.

“Tony, I’m so sorry,” you say, as a spray of bullet rips through the ground. You grab his arms and pull him to take cover under a bench.

“Y/N?” he mumbles.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“No…” Tony says, grabbing your hand. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was a complete asshole to you that day—”

“No, I’m the one who tried to shoot you, for God’s sake—” You rip his shirt into ribbons to wad up against the wounds in his chest and legs. “You’re gonna be okay,” you promise. “It’s Justin Hammer who’s behind all of this.”

“I recognized his work from your suit,” Tony gasps. “It looks like shit.”

“You can tell him that yourself.” You find yourself smiling despite the circumstances. “He wanted my help to end his ultimate rival. He manipulated me into thinking that Natasha was dead and that you were the reason for it—” You pause. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“It was the least I could do for you.”

“I know she probably won’t want me anyway after all this, but it was good to see her again.”

“She only wants you. It was always you or no one.”

You throw yourself onto Tony when the bullets start again and you feel them bounce off your back and legs. Fortunately, when Hammer made your suit bulletproof, he probably didn’t think it would have to bulletproof against his bullets.

Suddenly, the gunshots stop and the silence is deafening.

When you finally look up, you see Natasha flying over, holding Hammer by the collar.

You don’t even mind when your face splits into a painful smile. “That’s my girl.”

***********************************************************************

Two weeks after Hammer is arrested, Natasha convinces you to come by the Avengers Tower. It’s a strange feeling as you walk in for the first time in over six months. When you left, you’d never thought you’d be back, but here you are. Your only belongings are a single duffel bag with some clothes stuffed inside.

You ride the elevator up to the Avengers’ quarters. You’re a little more wary of the SHIELD agents that pass you, wondering if anyone will double-cross you again, but you remain courteous. You punch in your code to see if it still works and it does, the doors opening.

“Look who’s finally come home.” Tony’s there to greet you and he hugs you tightly.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, still guilty you almost got him killed.

“Good, no thanks to you.”

“Sorry again.”

He waves you off.

“Where’s—” you start, but then you see her. She comes around the corner in a wheelchair. Your heart drops to your feet.

“Things have been a little different since you left,” she says. So that’s why she had no reaction when you had stabbed her at the carousel. She has no feeling left in her legs after your bullet pierced her spine.

“Natasha, I’m…I didn’t know. Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here.” You turn around, but she rolls into your legs and grabs your hand.

“Please stay,” she says. “Like I told you before, I’m not mad.”

“But you have every right to be.”

“Can we talk?”

You nod numbly and let her lead you back to where your shared bedroom with her was. Nothing inside has changed. In fact, your clothes are still hanging in the closet like you’d never left. You sit on your side of the bed.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” Natasha asks.

You shrug. “Call me an asshole for what I did. Tell me you’d never want me back.”

“Okay. You’re an asshole for shooting me and leaving me,” Natasha says without hesitation, and you flinch. But somehow, you find solace in hearing her say the words you’ve played over and over in your head for months. “And yeah, after the whole thing happened, I didn’t think I could ever take you back. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you and told myself if I ever saw you again, I wanted you to know that I forgive you.”

“But I don’t know if I could forgive myself,” you whisper.

“Well, I forgive you, and I think if I can do that, you can, too.” It hurts her to see how much you’ve changed in the past six months. Your face and body are thin from malnourishment and Hammer’s torture. Your eyes are dull and permanently swollen from basically crying every day for six months. Some of your fingers are crooked from not healing correctly and you have scars running up your arms.

She reaches out and touches the puckered mark on your cheek from the bullet. “Besides, we’re kind of even now.”

“Hardly.” You chuckle.

“We can start slow,” Natasha says, putting her hands on your shoulders. “Because I’m not sure what still works down there, anyway.”

You smile, and her heart warms at the sight.

“Can I lie with you?” she asks and you nod, scooping her up and carrying her to the bed. You put her down gently and lie next to her. She pulls you close until your foreheads touch and you close your eyes as you breathe in her familiar scent. “Why did you pick the carousel as the meeting place?” she asks.

“I…I don’t know,” you mumble. “For some weird reason, I thought I’d see you again, at least in my memory. But then I did in real life, too.”

“I’m so glad you came back,” Natasha hums, brushing her lips against yours.

“I’m so glad I did, too.”

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

AN: The end! :) Fun facts:

-Part 1 was inspired by the scene in X-Men: First Class where Magneto accidentally deflects a bullet into Charles’s spine (which resulted in Charles’s paralysis). -Part 2’s Iron Black Widow suit was inspired by a concept art photo I saw that was cut from Avengers: Endgame. Here’s the link to that post. -Part 3’s carousel scene was inspired by the season 1 finale of Netflix’s Punisher.

Join my taglist for future stories here! Thanks for reading, and until next time...

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #black widow fanfiction #marvel imagine

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polaroid15 · 2 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 27 - Shower breakdown

Read on Ao3

Summary: Post Homecoming fight, except Tony shows up and helps Peter patch himself up.

------

Peter doesn’t like this part of the job.

The stumbling back home in the middle of the night, half-dead and thanking the heavens above that May is working a graveyard shift part of the job. He’s been hurt as Spider-Man before. Lots of times, in fact. But never like this. Never this badly.

It’s a lonely feeling.

He barely makes it to the bathroom, half aware that he’s stained the doorknob with blood. He catches himself against the bathroom counter with the little strength he has left in his arms and just stands there panting, not yet able to look at his reflection.

In and out. In and out.

As he collects his breath, he sees Toomes. He feels the heat of the fire on the beach. The impact of hitting the sand after crashing Mr. Stark’s plane. The suffocating pressure of being crushed under thousands of pounds of concrete…

Overwhelmed, he snaps his head up to look in the mirror, though his features become blurred as his eyes fill with tears. The suit he had made is torn. His body is torn. There’s not an inch of himself that’s not covered in sand, blood, or ash.

Shower, the last calm, rational part of his mind supplies. Listening, he forces his body to the edge of the tub and with a shaking hand, twists on the water. It takes three separate tries to pull the ruined remains of his suit over his head. His ribs are definitely broken. In the time it takes him to get undressed, the whole bathroom is filled with thick steam and he can hardly breathe.

He knows it’s going to hurt. A lot. He sets his jaw, curls his hands into fists, and steps under the hot water. Immediately, every cut on his body lights up with a sharp, burning pain. He cries out, his fingers scrambling to find purchase on the wet tile as his knees go weak. The entire bottom of the tub is swirling with red as new and old blood mixes with the water.

It’s too much.

Peter loses his battle to stay standing and bangs his knees against the bottom of the tub. A sob rips out of his chest before he can contain it, and after it, he can’t stop the breakdown. Here, there’s no one to be strong for anymore. Here, he’s alone.

So he cries, letting the water erase the pain and fear of the night. He lets it wash away his insecurity, his regret. Everything.

He doesn’t know how long he stays curled up on the floor of the tub, only that eventually- the water gets cold. It brings him back to being pinned under the warehouse and suddenly he can feel its crushing weight again. His tears stop as he chokes on his next breath. He reaches out blindly until he shuts off the water. Immediately, his chest loosens.

“Oh god,” he whispers, gripping the edge of the tub. He needs to get out, like, yesterday. He wraps a towel around his waist and stands in front of the mirror, shocked by the damage displayed on his arms and chest. The worst of it is the six angry puncture wounds where Toomes had dug in his metal talons. Even after the shower, some of them are leaking blood. There’s dark bruising, too, around his ribs and shoulders. So dark, they're nearly black.

With his lip wobbling, Peter makes his escape. He steps out of the bathroom and relishes in the unfogged air.

“Rough night?”

Peter nearly topples over for the second time that night, his heart stuttering as he turns toward the voice. He finds Mr. Stark sitting casually on the couch, his legs kicked up and his arm draped over the couch’s back. He’s wearing dark glasses, but he takes them off and puts them in the front pocket of his suit as Peter gapes at him. “What… How?”

Mr. Stark straightens, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’m just saying, it looks like you’ve had a rough night, kid.”

For the first time that night, Peter is angry. He squares his shoulders, hoping it’ll oppose the overwhelming urge to shrink in on himself. “Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Tony looks almost impressed. He sits back again, nodding. “Yeah, okay. I deserve that.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I saw what you did at Coney Island. Impressive stuff, kid. Though I would’ve preferred if my plane stayed in just a couple more pieces…”

“I don’t care about your plane,” Peter says boldly, then, “and besides, I cleaned everything up.”

“I know you did,” Tony says, his voice softer. “C’mere.”

Peter hesitates. “I think you should leave.”

“And you’re actively bleeding,” Tony says. He holds up a small first-aid kit. “I’ll patch you up, okay? Just get over here.”

Peter caves. He walks unsteadily over to wear the billionaire sits and perches awkwardly on the next cushion over. “I’ll heal, you know.”

“Everyone does.”

“Well, yeah. But faster, I mean.”

“Not when you’re still bleeding you won’t.”

Peter bites back his next objection as Tony pops open the little first-aid kit. He digs his fingers through it and pulls out a roll of gauze and tape. “Why’d you bring that?” Peter asks.

Tony shrugs. “I had an inkling.”

Within fifteen minutes, the worst of his wounds are covered and cleaned. Tony tucks everything they didn’t use, which isn’t much, back into the first-aid kit and sets it on the coffee table in front of them. “You should keep this. Something tells me you’ll need it.”

“Why are you here?” Peter asks him again.

For the first time since meeting him, Peter sees Tony uncomfortable. He tugs at his collar and touches his fingertips to the rims of the glasses in his pockets. “If you die, it’s on me, remember?”

“It’s not on you. You made that clear when you took the suit, Mr. Stark. No offense.”

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to offend me, kid. But I get it. And it was a mistake to take the suit. I’m sorry.”

Peter frowns. “What?”

“You’re something without the suit, Pete. Stupid as it was, you proved that tonight. I just- I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes I have.”

“I don’t want the suit back, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Tony smirks and looks down at the ground. “Sure, kid.”

“Did they arrest Toomes?”

“They did.”

“No one else was hurt?”

“Just you,” Tony says quietly. “And speaking of, what happened? You know,” he trails off, gesturing widely to the massacre that is Peter’s body.

Peter sighs, exhaustion lowering his defenses. Toomes is in prison. No one was hurt. He points to the puncture wounds. “This was from Toomes’ suit.”

“And the bruises?”

Peter closes his eyes when he feels the oncoming signs of tears, because he is not crying in front of his childhood hero. “Nothing,” he whispers.

“That sure isn’t nothing, kid. In fact, we should probably get that checked out by a professional.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just want to go to bed.”

Tony looks as if there’s more he wants to say, but he represses it. His eyebrows draw together. He taps his foot against the ground. “Fine,” he says, “I don’t think you’re in any mortal danger tonight. But, Happy’s bringing you to the Tower tomorrow to get checked out.”

“The Tower?” Peter asks. “I thought…”

Tony cuts him off with a flick of his hand. “I changed my mind. We’re moving back in.”

Excitement falls through him. “Why?”

“I’m Tony Stark. I don’t need a reason, do I?”

“No, sir, but…”

“Don’t question it. Just be ready when Happy comes to pick you up, alright?”

“Alright.”

Tony stands, and Peter stands too. He feels a lot better, he realizes. Not physically, but in other ways. “Thanks for breaking into my house,” he says with a smile that splits a cut on his lip.

“Thanks for not calling the cops,” Tony says, straightening his suit coat. “And, you know… for saving the day. I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

Peter doesn’t know what compels him to do it, but in the next second he has his arms wrapped around Tony’s torso. At first, Tony siezes up. Then, gradually, he relaxes, his arms coming to circle around Peter’s shoulders.

“This is a hug, by the way,” Peter says.

Tony’s chest vibrates when he laughs. “Yeah, kid,” he says fondly. “I know.”

#Febuwhump #febuwhump 2022 #peter parker #febuwhump day 22 #post homecoming #hurt peter parker #protective tony stark #irondad #irondad fic

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authoressofdarkness · 3 years

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I saw that you're taking prompts, from the dialogue list. Can I get number 20? “I’ve never had someone taking care of me before.” for starker obviously. I'm excited, I love reading your works. Thank you in advance!

Hi anon! That means so much to me and I’m v glad to be taking this as my first prompt. Thank you 💙

I kinda want to try some new things with some of these prompts, so I’m gonna go at this with omega Tony and alpha Peter and see where it goes. I hope that’s okay with you anon and that everyone likes it 😘

Same age college AU, omegaverse, alpha Peter Parker, omega Tony Stark, some angst and some fluff at the end.

—

It’s a well known fact that Tony Stark has a shitty family.

Well, at least to anyone who knows him, it is. They know how he’ll do anything to not be at home when his father is around, to get out of the endless pressures of social events and promotional things and questions of mating and management and all of the things that he hated about being born an omega and being attached to the last name Stark to top it all off—

For years, it was just him. Some flings, mainly to piss his father off, but he never had his attention for longer than the time it took to scold him or order him around, and his mother was never much help, either. He had precious few friends growing up, never really made any real ones until college when he met Rhodey and Pepper — an alpha and a beta respectively that helped him manage things there and that were the first people to truly understand the depths of struggles he had going on at home.

And they were great friends, still are, but there was never anything more there between them. They helped him float through the first year of school, and then—

And then came Peter Parker.

Tony doesn’t hate all alphas on principle, although he is often rather tempted to try to, what with how they were shoved in his face most of his life. They were great for a good fling but most of them were meatheads. As horny as Tony was, he couldn’t allow just anyone to be close to him, nothing too get to serious, because he’s got a lot of responsibility coming down to him and he needs the right partner — alpha or otherwise — to be willing to deal with that. Not that he’s particularly interested in mating right now but he also isn’t going to allow someone close enough to potentially mark him knowing the repercussions of that.

He’s the heir to Stark Industries, sure, but he’s still an omega. An alpha will have significant legal power over him once they’re mated. And he wants to be the one to run SI, to take on his legacy, to build, to create, and to run his business, and he’s not going to let anyone stop him, even if that means flings forever.

(Not that that’s legally going to fly because he can’t take over until he’s considered qualified which implies a certain amount of stability that translates into having an alpha that’s more than just a fuck buddy but—)

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters after he meets Peter.

Peter is a year younger than him in school, technically, but biologically they’re the same age. Peter just started a bit later than most — and for good reasons, as Tony comes to find out.

He’s in one of Tony’s engineering classes and his organic chemistry class and the omega would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately taken with him.

He can’t help it. Peter is cute, with his overgrown curls and slim form and silky skin and shy little smile and—

The other man is all alpha, there’s no doubt about it. He exudes it without even trying, but there’s a shyness to him, too. He’s not a meathead; he’s a sweetheart. From day one he’s respectful of Tony in class, kind when he sees him around campus, and that makes them the perfect lab partners in chemistry, and after knowing that, it’s just the natural choice for them to partner for the project in engineering and then—

Then things spiral, and Tony doesn’t even care.

He’s seeking the alpha’s attention, and Peter, the innocent, shy thing he is, is happy to give, to dote on Tony in ways that he would resist if they were coming from anyone else.

They’re not even fucking, but it’s intimate, so intimate that he can’t even explain it, and he loves it, scarily so. It both soothes and sets all his instincts on edge at the same time.

By mid semester they both have keys to come and go freely from each other’s rooms. It’s more common to see them together than it is to ever spot one of them out alone. The whole school probably thinks they’re a couple, and even though they’ve never made it official — and he’s never allowed himself to even come close to considering it before — Tony can’t bring himself to mind.

As midterms approach, though, Tony locks himself in to focus on his work. He doesn’t mean to, really; it’s just that hours studying slip into full nights and then he hasn’t eaten and he hasn’t left the room, even missing one of his classes because he doesn’t realize the time.

Peter hasn’t come by in days and except for the occasional check in text, Tony hasn’t heard from him, either. But they’re both busy with midterms so he really isn’t surprised. In fact he barely has time to eat, let alone check his phone, so even if he was texting him regularly Tony probably wouldn’t be answering.

Except mid terms or no, of course Peter notices when Tony misses class. And when his texts go unanswered by the absorbed omega, he doesn’t hesitate to show up and let himself in.

Tony doesn’t even realize anyone is there until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps so hard he nearly knocks the chair back, and when he turns around he sees Peter, stepping back and holding his hands up in the universal “I surrender” gesture, clearly not having meant to startle him.

“I’m sorry, I knocked but you didn’t answer so I let myself in. I just— you weren’t in class, and I was worried… are you okay? When was the last time you ate?” It takes all of two seconds for Peter’s sheepishness to melt into concern, and he steps forward again, closing the distance between them to tilt Tony’s chin up, looking at the shadow stretching across his jaw where he hasn’t shaved in a few days. “You’ve lost weight,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over Tony’s cheekbone tenderly — which, yeah, is definitely more prominent than it was at the beginning of the week.

Tony’s eyes flutter and he leans into the touch for a moment before refocusing and shaking it off. “I’m fine. This is normal, Peter. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Peter raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know what day it is?”

“It’s Saturday—“

“It’s Monday, Tony. 1pm on Monday, at that. You missed engineering this morning and you haven’t answered my texts all weekend.” Surprise flits across Tony’s face at that, because — yeah, last time he checked it was Saturday, and he had no new texts from Peter, so— “When was the last time you ate?” Peter continues to prod, voice gentle but insistent.

Both aspects only serve to spark irritation in him, though. Tony bats Peter’s hand away from his face, frowning. He doesn’t need to be treated with kid gloves. “I ate a little while ago. I’m fine.”

“You don’t even know what day it is—“

“It all kind of blurs together when you’re not doing anything besides working, okay—“

“Two days is a lot of blur, Tony—“

“And just because I need a shave doesn’t mean I haven’t left my desk or that this isn’t totally normal for midterms—“

“You’re the one saying you haven’t left your desk, not me—“

“That’s not what I meant! I’m just saying—“

“I’m just saying you need to take a short break, it’s not that big of a deal—“

“I don’t need a break, I know my limits—“

“Tony, I really don’t think—“

“Jesus fucking— You’re not my alpha, Parker, would you fuck off?”

The words come out before he can stop them, and he flinched himself at the hurt on Peter’s face, the way the alpha physically recoils, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not— god, I know that, okay? I’m just trying to help you, Tony. Please, this isn’t sustainable. You need to eat. Just— let me find you something, and then I’ll leave, okay?”

Leave? No, he doesn’t want him to leave. But the only thing that comes out is a quiet “whatever,” and he watches Peter escape to the kitchen with a ball of guilt growing in his chest.

Peter is just trying to help. He likes Peter and he doesn’t want him to leave, he just— he panics, and then he snaps.

Because what if Peter wants more? What if he really likes him? And Tony is a fuck up that does shit like this when he feels emotions and has so much baggage attached to being with him and—

And Peter knows that, at least some of it. It’s been a few months of seeing each other nearly every day, now, and his family situation was never a secret.

So why is he still here? Oh god, did Tony just ruin it?

The thought, for reasons that he’s refusing to immediately think about, is almost too much to bear. He stands up, fumbling his way out of the chair and into the kitchen.

The smell hits him almost as soon as he enters, and he sucks in a deep breath. His traitorous stomach growls, loud and demanding.

Soup bubbles on the stove as Peter works at the counter, chopping up some fruits and vegetables. He’s already managed to put a few little storage containers of food together for him, and something in Tony’s gut feels warm at the sight. But it also drops — preparing premade meals most certainly means that Peter isn’t intending to come back.

He looks up when Tony enters, expression wary. “The soup was the quickest thing you had, and since I had to be here for as long as it takes to boil anyway I thought I would just—“

“Peter.” His own voice sounds remarkable calm for how shaky he suddenly feels, lurching towards the alpha at the countertop. “It’s okay. I… thank you, for this. I’m sorry.”

Peter looks taken aback by the apology. “Tony, you don’t have to apologize. You’re right; I’m not your alpha and it’s not my place to give you orders. I just… I care about you, okay? I just want to help. I know you don’t think about me that way, and I’m sorry I overstepped, but—“

“You’re wrong.”

“What?” The words draw Peter up short.

Tony takes a breath, looking down. He focuses on the alpha’s hands, watching him chop instead of looking at his face. It’s easier. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t think of you that way. The problem is… that I do. And I… I’m not used to this. I’ve never had someone take care of me before. Not really, not in any way that mattered. And what I feel for you… it scares me.” He takes a little breath again, looking down at his own hands. “I want you to be my alpha, Peter. But I’m not really a good omega, and I just have so much shit that comes along with being with me. The thought of asking you to do that… what that could do to us… I just don’t think I could handle that.”

He hears the knife ting against the countertop as Peter sets it down, and the pitter patter of footsteps as the alpha crosses the room. He’s suddenly being drawn into a pair of lanky but surprisingly strong arms, surrounded by the musky, relaxing scent of alpha, and he practically melts into it, nestling his nose into the spot between the collar of Peter’s sweatshirt and his throat almost automatically.

Peter’s hand running up and down his back is soothing, relaxing him the rest of the way, and the press of the alpha’s chin against his head is just the perfect weight to be comfortable, reassuring.

“Tony… I’m not an idiot,” he says gently. “I know who you are. What you’ve done, where you came from, what’s expected of you — and yeah, I’m sure there’s more that you haven’t told me and that’s not public, but— I get why this is a struggle for you, and why you feel the need to put so much pressure on yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you for that and it is most definitely not your own fault that you’re not used to being taken care of. And you’ve no idea how badly or how long I’ve wanted to be your alpha.” He pulls back a little to look down at him, fingers scratching Tony’s scalp gently as he works his fingers through his hair. “But that doesn’t mean that this kind of behavior — towards yourself or others — is good or acceptable. It’s okay to let me take care of you — at least in small ways. I know you’re scared of losing your independence, but that’s not what I want for you, either. I just want to help.”

“Help,” Tony echoes, eyes drifting to the pan on the stove and then back to Peter. “I… I think I’d like that.” He bites his lip, looking up at him. They’re about the same size and height, but this close, wrapped in the alpha’s arms and scent, with his steady gaze on him, he can’t help but feel small by comparison. “You really want to be my alpha?”

“Only if you want me to be, but…” Peter looks down at him and cracks his shy little smile. “I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“I’d like that,” Tony admits. He shifts to press up against him, putting a hand on his chest. “I’d also really like it if you’d kiss me.”

Peter looks a little surprised, but not unpleasantly. Still, he shakes his head, giving him a little push back. “Tony, you didn’t even know what day it was. God knows when the last time you brushed your teeth is. No offense, but… ew.”

Tony just laughs a little, unable to help himself. “If I brush my teeth…?”

“Maybe. If you eat your food as well.” Peter moves back to the counter, finishing up the container he was working on. “We can’t be doing anything that’s going to burn you extra calories when you don’t have enough to begin with, hm?”

Tony finds himself grinning. “That’s an argument I can get behind. Literally and metaphorically.”

Peter flashes a grin in return, voice back to that gentle but insistent tone that he knows so well when he says, “Go, Tony.”

And for once, Tony is all too happy to obey.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #prompting #my prompts #my writing #kris talks #kris answers #omega tony stark #alpha peter parker #starker omegaverse #fluff

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

It’s Enchanting (to meet you) ↬ p.p

↠ A/N: This is a repost from my old account @spidey-reids-2003 (also I edited this quite a lot so like, a re read would be cool 😋)

I’m posting this on new year as my firs fic because this was, indeed my first peter parker fic ever 😌✨ Happy New Year everyone!! 🥂🥂

WC: 1.3k+

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Furious was putting it mildly. After you’d begged and begged him to let you attend this party, you’d snuck off without a trace. Storming out of the crowded ballroom, Tony pushed through drunk and noisy people to find out where you and Peter had run off to go God knows where and doing God knows what.

He knew that his concern often merged with anger as he stomped up the metal staircase, shaking his head and barely managing to unclech his jaw in anticipation of where you and his mentee might be.

The sound of your distinctive voice filled his ears, stopping him in his tracks. He followed it, relief washing over him as his eyes landed on you and Peter on the roof, laughing over something inaudible he had just said.

Memories flooded in his mind of the night when it was just himself and Pepper escaping to the same rooftop balcony, craving each other’s attention while ignoring the world around them. That night was a backless dress and a drink never delivered, but ended up being the best night of his life. He shook his head at the thought.

Even through the chaos, things were much simpler back then, compared to now. It felt like poetic cinema.

A smile began to spread across his face, happy to see you back to your bubbly self after the events of the so called “Civil War”.

As the distance between the two of you grew ever smaller, you felt a gentle flutter in your heart, a familiar warmth creeping up. The butterflies in your stomach danced around as you giggled at something Peter had said.

You felt bad for ditching the party, after all the work it took just to be allowed to attend. You should have listened when your father warned you of how incredibly boring it would be. Of course you and Peter didn’t listen, you just wanted to be a part of the action.

The ensuing silence was comfortable, and quickly broken by Peter suddenly fumbling inside his coat pockets searching for something.

“Aha!” He exclaimed with an adorably goofy smile when he found his desired target, pulling out a small velvet box.

“Uh…” He paused for a moment, as if he was wondering where to begin and trying to calm his nerves, “This is nothing special, but I wanted to get something for you. You know cause I couldn’t give you anything for your birthday. ” He laughed nervously, prying open the box to reveal a miniature version of the arc reactor that once resided in your dad’s chest.

“It’s beautiful Pete! You didn’t have to get me anything though!” You gasped, looking up at him with gleaming eyes and a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt.

Admiring the way the moonlight reflected off of the smooth metal and the brown orbs of the boy across from you, you touched the pendent delicately, your cold hands brushing against the metal.

You noticed him duck his head slightly in an attempt to hide the sight of the blood rushing to his now rosy cheeks.

“It’s nothing really.” He said, trying to downplay it.

“Well then, put it on me!” You begged excitedly, motioning towards the open box, “Come on don’t be shy!”

He chuckled once more, happy he could be the one to bring this sort of reaction and excitement out of you. You swept your hair to one side, exposing your collarbones. Peter placed a strong but gentle hand on your shoulder to steady you and locked the clasp in place. His touch lingered for a second, sending a wave of shivers up your spine that you hoped he didn’t notice. Goosebumps now prickled up and down your arms.

“You look really pretty, (Y/N).” He spoke softly, his voice hot on your neck as you whipped around to face him.

“Thanks, uhh you don’t look so bad yourself.” You replied, nervously being at a loss for words as you began to come back to reality, out of the trance he had unknowingly put you in. Just being around him felt enchanting.

You both stood in silence for a while, smiling at each other occasionally. Neither of you knew what to say as you glanced off to the lights below, looking for some comfort or solace in them to calm your nerves. Little did you know, Tony was still standing there watching the two of you interact, a smile donned his face as he reminisced in the beginnings of his love story with Pepper. What you and Peter have reminded him of them in so many ways, yet so unalike in others.

You suddenly turned to Peter, opening your mouth to speak as he did the same.

“I like you.“ You said in unison with Peter.

You both began to laugh, cheeks heated, goofy smiles across your faces, hearts fluttering.

“Would you-” Peter began to speak, and you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Yes. I’d love to go on a date with you Peter Parker.“ You interrupted him excitedly, giving another laugh. Today was a day neither of you would forget for a very long time. You stared at each other smiling for long, you both wanted to savor this moment.

“I can’t believe you like me too.” Peter spoke, out of the blue, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Why so Peter? I mean you’re amazing! You’re smart and cute and funny” Yourvoice trailed off into a whisper, “and really hot.”

“But I’m me. And you’re Y/N Stark! This still feels unreal.” He shook his head, hoping this all wasn’t a dream and his alarm clock was bound to go off in a few moments, pulling him from this bliss.

“Well then, you know what will make this real?” You offered, knowing of one thing that would surely do the trick.

“What?” He asked, furrowing his brow, turning back to face you.

“Kiss me.” You smirked, in true Stark fashion.

His eyes popped in surprise, and his breath quickened. He bent down to kiss you, your lips meeting, your noses crashing. You both giggled, attempting once more and finding the rhythm and music between the two of you. Your fingers found their way into his tamed curls.

As you both stop for air, Peter rests his forehead against yours. You hold each other as the party beneath you rages on, a smile on both of your faces.

Whatever doubts Tony may have had were washed away as he heard you reassure Peter. He smiled to himself as he turned around, beginning this ascent back down to that godforsaken party.

His daughter was happy, so he was happy. Although if he’d have stuck around a moment or two longer to witness you and Peter lip locked on the balcony, he might have changed his tune.

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker whump #reader insert #stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #spideygirl writes #queue tea

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marvelwritings · 3 years

Text

A piece of me has disappeared

Summary: By day three, the first doubts set in. He’s convinced Tony is still out looking for him, but putting in the effort doesn’t always guarantee results. These people that abducted him are clever, and they know about his spider abilities.

or: Peter get's abducted and Tony goes to rescue his son

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet. Morgan is in her bed and there’s no doubt that tomorrow at seven am she’ll be up and at ‘em to wake Peter up. Tony and Pepper are across the room of his, their frantic work attitudes finally put to the sleep they so desperately need. Peter is blinking up at his roof in his bedroom, feeling fine, good even, peaceful and sated and most importantly, safe.

Everyone’s sleeping, their breaths loud in the evening quiet and …. The repeats stops working once Peter’s stomach gnaws again, the hunger he’s so gravely experiencing has switched to a whole new level. No longer the petty grumbles of an empty stomach, instead it’s replaced by the need to eat anything, despite Peter’s rationality telling him he can’t. He’s been locked up for at least seven days, but he’s still to sceptic to eat anything his captors offer him. He’s very close to breaking.

He tries to hold on by imagining that he’s at home, but he’s so tired, yet so fitful he won’t close his eyes for more then 10 seconds, and the constant torture is so jarring it hurts worse to imagine home, then be woken up in reality, than to just to be present. Peter wonders if Tony is every going to find him.

The first day, he had no question about it. Tony is scarily determined and protective to anyone who dares come after the people he considers family, Peter got a first row demonstration when some journalist tried to bad mouth Spiderman and he got clocked in the jaw, so Peter knows it’s just a matter of time.

By day three, the first doubts set in. He’s convinced Tony is still out looking for him, but putting in the effort doesn’t always guarantee results. These people that abducted him are clever, and they know about his spider abilities. So much so that they keep him sedated at all times, just enough sedative to keep him conscious, but not too little that he can tap in his superstrength. Peter will never be able to escape on his own.

Maybe if the avengers got called in they were close, but Peter’s not sure Tony would call in people he hasn’t spoken to in a few months, purely to find him. He can hold out hope though.

The third day is also the day his captures, he hasn’t seen any faces so far and the sedative contorts their voices too much to match them to somebody he knows, start with the emotional manipulation. So far, they had stuck to electrocution by tazers and punches applied to any sensitive area of his body, but Peter must not have been broken fast enough for them.

‘You know, you remind me of the stereotypical bad guys in movies, like in kids movies? Do you like kid movies? My favorite is Frozen’, Peter had once babbled in between punches through bitten teeth, trying to keep up his high spirits.

They didn’t like that one bit.

They claim all sort of ridiculous things, like that the Starks paid money for them to have kidnapped him, that Tony never started searching for him, that he might as well give up because no one was coming to fetch him. Peter laughs in their face, witty even in the face of extreme danger. It was still funny to him then. Now, on the evening of the seventh day, he stares unblinking at a wall, only moving when the physical pain becomes too much and he needs an outlet to scream.

‘Please’, he pleads sobbing. If he wasn’t so starved as he was, so mentally vulnerable, he would have been embarrassed. As it stands, Peter’s just so incapable of resisting, he simply gives in.

‘Please stop,’ Peter whimpers. If he had anything to give he’d bargain, but money is tight for May and him, and he has no knowledge of anything avengers related that could be of interest to these people. Mister Stark told him it was for his own safety, so it wouldn’t be used as leverage against him, but in Peter’s warped mind it further adds proof Tony never trusted him.

‘Ahn’, a captor coos, ‘he’s begging already, how cute.’ The voice is distinctly that of a woman’s, but it hold nothing of the warm timbre both aunt May and Pepper possess. He misses them.

The woman slides a hand up in Peter’s hair, and for one confusing moment Peter thinks she’s going to start stroking it, like Tony does, but then she balls her hands into fists and pulls his head aside. The next tazer gets placed in his neck.

‘This wouldn’t be happening if your so beloved mentor would just give up the plans for the new shield initiative, but alas, as long as he doesn’t you’ll be stuck here. The tazzer buzzes to life and Peter seizes up. It’s the so many’th time today, that Peter gives up on holding back, his scream ricochets in the room.

‘Then again, maybe we went after the wrong kid. Maybe we should have taken Tony Starks real kid? The one he actually cares about?’

Tears stumbles down his cheeks and he wishes he could fall back into unconsciousness, but of course life is not that kind. No, he begs inside his head, to warm out to speak. Not Morgan, never Morgan. He’d die before he’d let anything happen to her.

‘What do you think soldier,’ she addresses the second captor in the room, ‘perhaps a phone call would speed Stark along? A sign of life and how close to it being snuffed out the child is? What do you want Peter?’ She asks sickly sweet, as if it’s a regular question and not a taunt.

Still, Peter can’t help but reach out. He longs for one phone call so wholeheartedly. Maybe, maybe he can convince Mister Stark to get him out of this mess. He could promise to do every task Mister Stark ask of him, he could even offer to work for Stark industries until he could pay back the money he’d pay Peter’s kidnappers, anything to get out of here. Peter will do anything.

‘I think he’s agreeing.’ The woman grins, pulling out a burner phone out of her back pocket. She types for several excruciating moments, in which Peter begs to every god listening that Mister Stark will pick up. That he’ll hear Peter out.

‘Hello,’ the woman greets the phone, her smirk so evil Peter’s spider senses warm him to run, fighting through the drugs. ‘I think I have something that belongs to you Stark.’

She lowers the phone to a few inches from Peter’s ear, because Peter is too tied up to hold it on his own. ‘Speak loudly kid.’

The use of the nickname causes shudders to run down Peter’s back. Why can’t he go home?

‘Mister Stark, please help me, I don’t know where I am, but- I want to go home, please mister Stark I-. I’ll do anything you want, just please.’ Peter’s whines gain pitch, until he is nothing but a sobbing mess, barely worth the name Peter Parker, let alone Spiderman.

The phone clicks shut.

‘Whoops, looks like he hung up’, The woman snickers, patting Peter’s cheek with fake compassion. Peter bellows, heaving so severely the nonexistent food he ate threatens to come back up.

He’d never find out the phone was never connected in the first place.

---

By the grace of Peter doesn’t know what, he drops unconscious after the failed phone call to Mister Stark. The sleep is fitful at best, but at least it helps restock his powers. When Peter comes too, there are loud sounds just outside of the room he’s captivated in. He thinks there’s screaming and pleading, but he’s so exhausted he can’t bring himself to care. His hands drop uselessly by his side, his head turned away from the door as he squeezes his eyes shuts.

Why can’t this be over yet?

The door busts of his hinges, the door falls inwards. Immediately, the yellow and red armor, belonging to the iron man suit, rushes in, with the faceplate down. Now that the door is open, or gone more like, It’s clear that all the sounds Peter had been hearing where the scream of his captures. There are many of them, but they’re being taken down one by one.

Peeking aside the Iron man armor, Peter sees a flash of red and blue, and captain America’s shield knocking someone out cold.

‘Kid, kid’, Mister Stark draws his attention in a panic. The faceplate is still down, which means that Mister Stark is either not here, like he wasn’t when the vulture first dropped him into a lake, or he’s assessed the situation and deemed it too dangerous to lower his defenses.

‘You’re okay underoos, we’re getting you out of here.’ With very little effort, Mister Stark snaps restraints on Peter’s wrist and ancles, all the while murmuring under his breath. He’s trying to reassure Peter, but it’s not having any type of effect.

Instead, the comfort causes Peter to burst into tears once more, his body begging for food and pain medication that will make everything stop hurting. He doesn’t care that Mister Stark is doing this out of rightfulness, or maybe out of debt out of some kind that he’s trying to even out, Peter just wants to go home.

Once the restraints are all loose, and Peter is free of them, Mister Stark waits for a tense second, maybe expecting Peter to hob off the table and join the fight or something. That doesn’t happen. Peter lays motionless on the table, looking intensely at the glowing eyes of the iron man suit, maybe trying to convey a message that Mister Stark can’t decipher.

‘Come on Pete, we have to get out of here before they bring backup. I can only hold them off for so long.’

‘Back up?’ Peter ask nonsensical, his spider senses blaring danger at him.

‘Yeah, they’re big fans of the avengers, they’ll all be swarming in here for autographs soon, but we’re kinda busy so we really have to go now.’ Mister Stark turns frantic, his hands carefully, oh so cautiously, gripping at his shoulders.

Peter allows his muscles to turn limp, pliant under strange hands. They belong to his mentor, to one of the only touches he has ever felt that don’t originate from people who are trying to hurt him, but he’s so very terrified, it doesn’t register. Peter holds still, submissive to whatever is about to happen because the pain always seems to end faster when he doesn’t struggle.

‘Peter’, Mister Stark anguished voice insists, his faceplates lifts up, and the dull eyes of who Peter has come to think of as a father gaze upon him with despair. Mister Starks hair is greasy, his mouth is pulled down in a grimace, and his eyes are, for a lack of better word grief stricken. He’s so much older then he was before Peter was taken. ‘Please buddy, we have to go.’

Mister Stark’s calloused finger strokes Peter cheek with the utmost care, barely even pressing firm enough for Peter to feel it. He does though, and traps the touch between his check and his shoulder. The dam breaks, and the barrier of terror that clouded Peter’s judgment lifts with it. He gasps, coming up for a breath of fresh air, and the moment between mentor and son brings at least a sliver of clarity, before he sinks back under the enormity of his panic.

‘I can’t walk’, Peter rasps, his throat torn from all the screams. He refuses to let that stop him, he’s so close to safety, he needs to push on further just a tad longer. ‘Please Mister Stark, I can’t walk.’

‘It’s okay Pete’, Tony soothes, pressing an unyielding kiss to his forehead, and if at all possible, Peter see the rage harden his face even more. ‘I’m going to get you out of here, but it’s gonna hurt, I’m sorry.’

Before Peter can begin to process that statement, Mister Stark puts the weight on his knees, the iron man suit helping to lift Peter as if it’s no trouble at all. Tony is no liar, Peter finds, as his body begs to be placed back on the uncomfortable bed. Even places that had been relatively unharmed ache, and Peter feels like a broken doll.

‘It’s okay Kiddo we’re almost there, just a minute longer.’ Peter clings to Mister Stark, using every ounce of strength to hang on, despite the fact that Tony has a tight grip on him as well. Iron man isn’t fighting alone, as the avengers are here to back him, them, up. In any other situation, Peter would be gushing. Not only is he seeing his heroes in action, but they’re in action for him, to help him, but now, Peter only turns his head to burrow it into Mister Starks chest plate.

‘Please, please’, Peter whispers the entire way to the jet, not even realizing he’s begging for something.

‘I got you Pete’, Tony assures, one hand briefly leaving Peter’s back to shoot at a capture that’s standing in the way of the jet. Other than that, he doesn’t interfere with the fight one time, but he must itch too. Peter hears him bark orders at captain America, telling him to take some of them alive.

‘Please don’t leave me here, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.’

The Jet is nice and warm, something Peter relishes in, but when Tony tries to lower Peter on a medbed, that’s objectively much more comfortable then the bed he was on before, Peter screams. No words are spoken, but the scream startles Mister Stark just the same.

‘Stark, the base is cleared, get him strapped in, Banner is coming’, Natasha ushers, ignoring Peter’s cries and running to the cockpit. Stark has him, she argues, and it does the kid no good to have more prying eyes on him.

‘What is it, are you in pain?’ Tony asks franticly, without responding to Nat, hands hovering over Peter’s body to check for injuries, the light dims when he spots just how badly he was treated in captivity.

Peter screams again when Mister Stark pulls away too far for his liking, latching onto the suit so rigorous it creaks in protests.

‘Please, I’ll be good, don’t leave me, please. I- I know… I’m sorry, Morgan- I’, Peter can’t talk with how much he’s weeping, there are so many things to say and all of them are fighting one another to be said first. Eventually, after everyone has already touched base, the jet leaves and Doctor Banner urgers Tony to place him on the bed, Peter settles for; ‘Don’t leave me here.’

‘Peter’, Tony spits, so harsh that Peter snaps to attention, letting go of the armor and limply following where mister Stark wants him. He gently grips Peter’s chin, mindful of the bruises, and with glistening eyes, he conveys; ‘I’m never leaving you here, do you understand. I don’t care what else you have in your head, but right now, all I need you to know is that I’m not leaving you. Ever.’

He waits for the conforming nod, which Peter only gives when Mister Stark clasps his hand into his. ‘Beside, May would kill me if I came back without her nephew, and I don’t want to be the one to receive her wrath.’ Tony laughs faintly.

He wants to cry at that, good or bad he’s not sure, but instead he allows himself to be lowered, giving in only because Tony is crouching down with him, shielding Peter’s body with his own. It’s unsensical, there in the jet and there’s no danger, but if Peter feels protected Tony will do it, no questions asked.

As soon as he’s in a horizontal positions, Doctor Banner injects him with pain medication, and within seconds, Peter has floated away, dreaming of the lake house with Morgan, Pepper and tony and May at the end of the hallway.

---

Peter knows he’s in the medbay before his body has even fully awoken. He’s been here before, perhaps one to many times for it too be so familiar, and he can recognize the atmosphere from anywhere. The smell of disinfectant lingers around the room heavily, but so does the smell of motor oil, coming from Mister Stark’s lab the floor below the medbay. Usually he’s not alone when he wakes up either, accompanied by Mister Stark or May, maybe even both, and so despite the room having a different connotation, it holds security for Peter.

When all his senses click into place, with an almost audible snap after being out of commission for a week, the burning anguish joins it. It’s almost worse than during the torture itself, because it’s hitting him all at once now, and after stewing for a day his body is one big bruise, but it’s also better, because no more hurt can be added.

Blinking his eyes open, Peter glances around the room and notices that he’s by himself. He hasn’t made up his mind yet whether that’s a good or bad thing. Despite being alone, Peter very nearly cries out for the pain medication he’s sure Tony has at hand. His metabolism runs through painkillers faster than a normal body, but Mister Stark has experience in that department thanks to captain America, which is why Peter never wakes up in the medbay feeling sore.

He’s hoping to snatch some of the good stuff before he can sink away in sleep again, until a dark thought pops up in his head. What if Mister Stark purposefully didn’t give him enough medication so he wouldn’t stay asleep? What if Peter is expected to pay of his debt starting this very moment? It would make sense. Mister Stark is a man that likes to get a move on things, and this is probably no exception.

He bites back a loud whine. He’s so tired and sore, and if he could be anywhere in the world right now he’d choose the lakehouse and rest on the back porch, while looking over Morgan and ensuring she’s safe.

Still, it’s heaps better then what was waiting for him before, so Peter sucks in a deep breath and lifts himself up. He’s dresses in a hospital gown with socks on his feet, the only reprieve of the cold of the tiles that he has. His body fights in protest against the jolting movements, and Peter sinks back into bed three times before finally managing to stay upright. He swallows back bile, and blinks away the disorientation woozing its way through his head.

‘Friday’? He whispers, voice cracking on every syllable.

‘Yes, mister Parker, the AI replies easily, as chipper as a computer can possibly be. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ she adds, when Peter takes too long to reply. It’s not out of rudeness, but the words take a while to be processed in Peter’s hazy mind.

‘Can you tell me what Mister Stark wants me to do?’ Peter finally asks after coughing to clear his throat. Pride flows through his bloodstream when he manages to sound fine.

‘Mister Stark has not given me any directions, but by the distress and elevated heartbeat he experienced whilst at your bedside last, I hypothesize that he would like you to rest Peter.’

Confusion laces Peter’s next move. Rest? But if that was the case why wasn’t the man here, ensuring that he does like all the other times he’s been in this position? Deciding not to ask the AI anymore questions, while simultaneously ignoring her advice, Peter focuses on setting one foot in front of the other. If he can’t get a direct answer out of Friday, he’ll just get started on cleaning up in the lab.

The last few times Tony and Peter worked in there, Mister Stark had jokingly grumbled that the lace was getting to disorganized even for his taste, which definitely means something. Peter limps his way to the door, already breathing more heavily and deciding to take a rest against the still closed door. His foot throbs, so Peter switches to put the most weight on the side of his foot, instead of on the balm.

The small trek has left him bone tried, and the lab still seems so far away. Peter tries to calculate how far the lab still is, and agrees with himself to divide the length into smaller stretches. His next stop is at the elevator, so Peter shuffled along the floor, ignoring the black spots that dance before his eyes and threaten to have him collapse.

The extortion reminds him of the time that Toomes dropped a building on him, which is just plain ridiculous, this shouldn’t be half as tough. Peter scolds himself to man up when about halfway to the elevator he bumps into a cart and whimpers.

After finally finding support on the elevator beams, Peter allows himself a twenty second break to cry. At this point, the exact reason for crying is unbeknownst to him. All that he does know is that he feels like a mess, like someone took all the spiderman away from him and left him as a pile of uselessness. He shouldn’t have the right to complain however. Mister Stark rescued him from a fate much worse, the least he could do is help him out.

‘Friday’, Peter pauses to gulp in more air, and to force his tears back. ‘Open the elevator.’

‘Mister Parker I would advise-‘

‘Please’, he begs, voice barely louder then a whisper. The AI complies without further disagreement. The elevator begins to move the floor bellow it, soundlessly passing Peter along. The theme song, a little joke that Tony had installed after they made a song about spiderman, which plays during every elevator ride when Peter is present, stays off. The doors open, and Peter stumbles out, cheering up a dash when the mess doesn’t look as bad as he had imagined it. The clean up should be doable within two hours, even in Peter’s injured state. Most of the mess comes from scattered papers and documents that Tony tosses aside and never bothered to do anything with, and of mechanical parts that are ready to be thrown out.

All in all, not a lot of weight that Peter has to pick up. He has barely started on five pages when the elevator behind him opens again. Peter hadn’t noticed it going to a different floor in the first place.

Lister Stark burst out of the room like the devil himself is after him. He pauses for one second to observe what Peter’s doing -he’s in the middle of bending down at a very lateral pace- and then he’s off again, cursing under his breath.

‘Jesus Christ Peter what are you doing?’

He pulls out a rolling chair from behind his work bench and rushes it to Peter side. ‘Come on, sit.’ He says already clenching a hand around Peter’s bicep to guide him down. In his confusion, Peter follows his instruction.

‘Mister Stark?’ He questions, eyes tracking his mentors movement as if he’s afraid he’s done something wrong and punishment will follow.

There is none, all that Tony does, is fall down on his knees in front of Peter, so they’re making direct eye contact. Peter gulps at the sight. He’s sure those jeans cost more than half of what May ears a month, and if Peter is expected to repay those too, he’ll never be able to pay of his debt.

‘Kiddo, what are you doing?’ Mister Stark asks incredulous, his hand never leaving Peter’s arm. His eyes sweep over Peter’s form, noticing the ailments that he aggravated by walking all the way down here. ‘Why aren’t you in bed?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get started already.’ Peter admits shyly. He can’t understand why he’s being treated with such kindness all of a sudden.

‘Started on what Pete? I don’t understand.’ Mister Stark shuffles closer, one hand coming up to cup Peter’s chin, sweeping gentle circles that are meant to calm himself down as much as Peter.

‘Paying of my debt.’ Peter replies confused, wrapping his arms around his stomach area and bending downwards in an order to self sooth. He needs to get up soon, are Peter’ not sure he will be able to. Now that he’s granting his body some rest, the pain he forced to the back of his mind is rushing back in.

‘What debt kid, you need rest and you need it right now. Stay here, I’m going to go get you a gurney so you don’t require any more walking.’

Right as Mister Stark gets of his knees, Peter’s hand shoots out, gripping the older man’s wrist. The action was pure habitual, but now that he’s initiated contact he doesn’t know what to do.

‘When will I have to start working then? I’d rather get started as soon as possible, to thank you for everything Mister Stark.’ Peter’s voice pitches even lower, letting his head hang down in shame. He really doesn’t want to offer his suit back, Spiderman is what gives him purpose, but the sooner he no longer has a debt, the sooner he can start working to provide May with an extra income as well. He has no choice.

‘I can give you the suit back if you’ll accept it.’

Tony regards him with perturbation for several long lasting moment. Then, he gasps, finally clicking in his head what Peter is going on about.

‘Oh kiddo, that’s the concussion speaking. Listen to me,’ he sinks back down in front Peter, taking his hand in his. ‘You have done so much for me. If anything it’s me that should be in debt to you.’ Peter pens his mouth to argue, but Tony hushes him softly.

‘You’re not thinking straight buddy, that why spider baby’s need their rest. But truly Peter, you don’t owe me anything. Well except maybe you owe it to be safe, I think I’ve earned that much.’

‘Really?’ Peter asks optimistically, his whole body filling up with a feeling he can’t name, but it chokes him up until he’s bursting with the urge to give a hug to his mentor.

‘Yeah Peter of course. All I want is my kids to be safe.’

Kids. Tony sees Peter as his kid, as equal to Morgan. A person to love unconditionally without needing any favors, without having any debt. Of course Mister Stark won’t ask that of him, despite his front, the man has a heart that’s made of gold. Mister Stark, his mentor, and his father figure.

‘Dad,’ Peter sobs, almost falling out of the chair in his rush to get to Tony. The man immediately returns the hug, holding Peter up in a way that he hopes will be the least painful for him.

‘You’re okay Peter you’re okay.’

‘I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking’, Peter confesses, deeply ashamed of how low he thought of his dad.

‘It’s okay Kiddo, like I said it’s the concussion. Of course you were scared, I can’t blame you. I promise that I tried so hard to find you bud. I’m sorry it took me so long.’

Peter says nothing, he’s had enough encounters with Tony now to sense that the man wouldn’t believe him if Peter told him it’s okay. Instead he just nuzzles closer, accepting all the love and affection radiating from Tony, and giving back what he hopes is just as much.

‘Can we go back to the lakehouse?’ Peter asks softly, burring his head in Tony’s neck. It might be a weird question coming from him. He liked the beach house enough, but he has never actively asked to go there when they could stay at the tower as well. But now, Peter won’t feel safe unless his down there, in the cabin hidden behind threes, where the environment is quiet that he can hear everyone’s heartbeat, and can confirm that everyone is safe.

‘Sure kid.’ Tony responds, a tad bewildered, but happy to provide anyway. ‘We’ll leave as soon as you get check out okay. I want to make sure you didn’t rip anything.’

‘Okay’, Peter mumbles, a bone deep tiredness washing over him, and letting him sink down into Tony. ‘Thanks dad.’

If Peter were more awake, he would have noticed the silent tears of happiness streaming down Mister Starks cheek at the name. As it stands, Peter just hums contently when a kiss is pressed at the top of his head, and Tony strikes a hand through his hair.

‘Anything for my son.’

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #hurt peter parker #hurt/comfort #tony stark imagine #tony stark #protective tony stark #fluff #angst #Peter gets kidnapped #and tortured #but not in detail #Tony is affectionate #Peter's apprehensive #marvel imagine #spiderman imagine #spider son #irondad #irondad imagine

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babybatscreationsv2 · 3 years

Text

Cornered

Marvel | Winterstarkerstrange

Peter is just trying to get to class when he gets cornered by alphas Tony, Bucky, and Stephen who won't take no for an answer.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings below the cut

Warnings: noncon, underage(highschool au), omega verse, humiliation, public sex, slight mindbreak

Peter's last class was on the second floor of the high school. The quickest way there was the stairwell at the back of the building that sat next to the computer lab. It was usually pretty empty this time of day which gave Peter a nice break from all the noise of constant chatter. He entered the stairwell and stopped, pausing to consider if he should turn back and take the stairs by the cafeteria instead.

"Hey, Petey," Tony Stark called out with a smirk. He and his friends were all gathered together, clearly with no intention of moving on to class. Peter looked around for help, but there was no else around. He shouldn't be alone with these alphas. They were trouble.

"You look pale, darlin," Bucky said. "Why don't you come and sit with us? Relax a while."

"S-sorry, I uh... I gotta get to class." Peter's face felt hot. Just the way they looked at him was vulgar.

Stephen tisked. "Is that any way to speak to an alpha? What alpha is going to want you when you can't follow simple directions?"

"I'm sorry-"

"Get over here," he barked.

Peter's feet were moving before he thought better of it. The alpha's laughed and Peter stared down at the floor. Tony grabbed his chin but he refused to meet his eye.

"You're a pretty little thing aren't you?"

"Please," Peter whimpered. He could smell the pheromones coming off them. They were aroused. He shouldn't be here. He jumped when hands touched his ass. Bucky was behind him crowding him against Tony. Stephen caged him in further. He was blocked on three sides by alphas with the wall of the stairwell to his left.

"I really need to go."

"You really need to shut your mouth before we shut it for you," Bucky warned in his ear.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on his lip so it wouldn't tremble. It felt like they were everywhere. Hands palmed his ass and stroked his thighs. One of them grabbed his neck and pulled his hair. Someone found his nipples through his shirt and pinched them. He stood there whimpering afraid to argue any more. He heard the bell chime for class then the slam of doors shutting as teachers locked up their classrooms for the final class period.

"Nobody's coming to save you," Stephen purred. "Your ours until the hours up."

Bucky laughed. "He's shaking."

"Look at me, pretty baby," Tony said. Peter opened his eyes. Tony examined his face with wide pupils. "You're an innocent little thing aren't you? A good, untouched, omega?"

Peter nodded his head.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. If you're good for us, well leave you that way." He smirked. "But you're gonna wish we didn't."

"Please, don't touch me," he whispered, voice broken.

"Oh we're gonna touch whatever we want," Bucky said.

"If you can be a good little whore, we won't knot you," Stephen added.

"Please," he sobbed.

"Shh," Tony said. He stuffed two of his fingers past Peter's lips. He gagged at first, but he settled. He stared away at the wall as tears welled in his eyes.

"Are you scared, pretty baby?" Bucky asked. His lips dragged over Peter's jaw. He could feel his stubble on his skin. His hand slid down his chest all the way to his skirt. It was the pale blue pleated skirt all omegas at his school wore. Bucky reached down and slipped his hand underneath. It slid slowly up his thigh all the way to his cock where it was tucked inside his underwear.

Peter squirmed and Stephen slapped his bare thigh.

"Quit romancing him, Barnes. I want to fuck his face."

"No, please!" Peter said around Tony's fingers.

Tony pulled his hand back and slapped him. "Omegas don't talk back. Get on your knees and open your mouth before your betters decide you need punishment."

Sniffling Peter let himself be pushed to the ground. Stephen grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. He looked up at him as he pulled out his cock with one hand.

"Open your mouth." He stare was so unkind that Peter didn't dare disobey him. With a smirk, he spit into Peter's open mouth. He swallow on reflex, but it made him shudder as it slid down his throat. Then pushed his cock into his mouth. Peter wrinkled his nose at the taste. Stephen rubbed himself all over his tongue.

"That's it," he purred. He pushed into Peter's throat, watching the tears form in his eyes. Peter gagged and tried to pull back but Bucky sat on the floor behind. His chest was against Peter's back, keeping him from going anywhere. Peter tried to turn his head away, but Stephen just held him by the hair while the others laughed.

Bucky toyed with his toy, running his nails over it through his panties. Peter sat and whimpered, tears wet on his cheeks, unable to move. When Stephen had enough he stepped aside and Tony took his place.

"Please," Peter rasped. His throat hurt. So did his jaw.

Tony slapped his face. "Open up," he growled.

Peter whimpered and opened his mouth. Tony's cock slid over his tongue and into his throat. He sighed happily as he bottomed out. Peter gagged and tried not to let his teeth scrape.

"That's a good omega," Bucky purred in his ear. He kissed his neck and Peter shivered. "Feels good doesn't it, to be used just like you're made for." He stood up and Tony stepped aside to Bucky could have a turn. Peter sat obediently waiting with his mouth open. His head felt foggy and he felt tingly and good all over. He wanted their attention no matter what they gave him.

Bucky fucked him much slower. He tugged on his hair when he stopped licking and sucking. Peter wasn't sure when it had turned from him getting face fucked to him actively giving head but he didn't want to stop. Stephen pushed Bucky aside and Peter eagerly sucked his cock, too. It felt good in his mouth. He was full and happy and the smell of alpha was everywhere making him slick. Bucky and Tony stood on either side of him, stroking their cocks. Peter could see their knots starting to swell at the base. He rubbed his legs together. His hole ached so bad. He needed to get bred.

"Smells like slick in here," Tony said with a grin.

Bucky smirked. "Yeah it does. That pussy getting wet for us darlin?"

Peter moaned. He sucked Stephen's cock all the way down, letting it stretch open his throat the way he wanted it to in his hole.

"Gonna make me cum like that," Stephen purred. Peter whined. "You want my cum? Yeah you do, fucking slut." He pulled Peter back by the hair and took his cock in his hand. Peter stuck out his tongue trying to taste it, wanting it back in his mouth. Then Stephen came in sticky spurts, in his mouth and on his face.

Tony filled his mouth back up and fucked his face while he moaned happily. Then he pulled out and came on his face too. He felt so messy and dirty and hot. All he could smell was alpha. He wanted to rub it into his skin and soak it up, bathe in alpha cum.

"Please, alpha," he whimpered, seeing Bucky still stroking himself.

"You want this, sweetheart?" Peter nodded. "Come and finish me off then."

Peter licked and sucked along the side of his shaft. He wanted it on his face so bad. He pumped the bottom with his hand while he licked and sucked the head. When Bucky came, he angled it right at his forehead delighted when it covered his skin and gooped shut his left eye.

He sat on his knees, staring up at his alphas while they all grinned and took pictures.

"Dammit," Tony groaned. "He's too good to just dump him like that."

"Why not?" Stephen shrugged.

Bucky shot him a look. "Where's your phone, sweetheart? Let me give you my number."

Peter took his phone out of the pocket of his bag. "Go wash off in the bathroom like a good omega and then shoot me a text. Got it?" Bucky winked.

Peter nodded and took his phone back. Dazed, he went into the bathroom and did was he was told.

Bucky? He sent.

What he got back was a picture of himself, mouth hanging open, covered in cum.

#marvel #winterstarkerstrange #starker #omega verse #high school au #non/con

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tuiccim · 3 years

Text

TikTok Trend: #FirstDate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1453

Warnings: Angst, language

Summary: A first date with Billy and a chance to check out Anvil.

A/N: Divider by @whimsicalrogers

TikTok Trend Series Masterlist

The next morning you are smiling at your phone as you walk to the kitchen to get coffee. Billy had sent a text saying, “Good morning, gorgeous. Look forward to seeing you tonight.” You know it’s a line, but you can’t help feeling flattered. As you round the corner, you run smack into Bucky. You drop your phone and Bucky swoops down to pick it up. He looks at the message still up on the screen. His eyes meet yours with a sad look before handing your phone back and retreating to his room. Your stomach twists, but then you straighten your shoulders and continue your quest for coffee.

Later that morning, you work on a video to post. “Hey guys! I have a date tonight! Help me pick a dress!” The TikTok video continued showing you modeling three dresses. “Okay, comment red, blue, or black! I’ll show the final look before I head out tonight.” You blow a kiss and send the video to the PR team. It was approved and posted within twenty minutes and your phone began dinging with notifications.

PR let you know an hour and a half before your date that the red dress had won. You got ready and set your phone up for a quick video. “Hey guys! The red dress won. Here’s the final look. Wish me luck!” You post the video, bypassing PR, and head to the elevator. Billy was going to pick you up at the front of the tower at your request. He had offered to come up, but you didn’t want another awkward encounter. Billy pulls up in a Rolls Royce Wraith. You smile and raise an eyebrow at him as you slide in the passenger side, “Hi.”

“You look gorgeous.” Billy smiles.

“Thank you. You look good, too.”

“I made an effort.” Billy jokes. He takes you to an Italian restaurant you had never been to before. A bottle of wine, a delicious meal, and lots of talking and flirting ensue.

“Tell me more about Anvil.” You encourage him and he launches into a full explanation of what they do and some of the jobs they’ve taken on. He’s enthusiastic in his descriptions of the company business and you enjoy hearing about some of the jobs. “Sounds like you enjoy the work.”

“I do and I take my business seriously, I’m very hands on.” He says. “What about your work?”

“I love it for the most part.”

“What parts don’t you love?” Billy narrows his eyes appraisingly at you.

“Sometimes Steve is a little too goody two shoes for me, I guess. He sees the world in black and white, good and evil, I see it in shades of gray. Sometimes good comes out of bad and bad things come out of good things. Steve doesn’t see it that way and it can occasionally cause friction between the two of us. I… I wasn’t always one of the good guys. There was a time that I was part of the criminal element. SHIELD found me and turned me, turned my life around, but… I don’t know. I guess I feel like Steve still holds that against me at times.” You swirl your wine in your glass as you speak and then look up at Billy to see his reaction.

“You like to color outside the lines. I like that. So, tell me what happened with the whole Bucky thing?” Billy’s eyes are piercing as he asks the questions. His stiff jaw signals feelings of jealousy.

“You mean the TikTok video and the aftermath?” You look away for a second, “Bucky live broadcasted a video he wasn’t supposed to. PR called us in almost immediately after. Two former baddies getting together just doesn’t look good apparently. Then a week later he starts dating Sharon.” You roll your eyes and shrug.

“You don’t like her?” Billy asks.

“Everyone kisses her ass because she’s Peggy Carter’s legacy. Bucky’s always had a thing for her, but she dated Steve. I guess he finally decided to go for sloppy seconds anyway.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” Billy chuckles.

You smirk, “One thing about me you should know, Billy, I don’t sugar coat shit and I tell it like it is.”

Billy studies you for a moment before leaning forward, “I like you more and more. We’re doing some training exercises at Anvil on Thursday. I’d like you to come by and observe. Maybe give your opinion.”

“My consulting fee is hefty.” You smirk at him.

“Come by. See what we do.” Billy pushes.

“I have a mission briefing first thing tomorrow. I might be out of pocket for a few days, but I’ll let you know.” You sip your wine.

“Would you care to see the dessert menu?” Billy asks as he sees the waiter making his way over.

“Mmm, no. I’m watching my figure.” You smile.

“I’ve been watching it all night. It’s exquisite.” Billy smiles slyly. He pays the check even though you offer and leads you out to his car. He takes you to a club where the two of you dance and flirt for a few hours. Afterward, he drives you home and walks you into the building. He kisses you good night at the elevator and says he’ll text you. You are barely in your room before you get a text.

Billy: Sleep well, Beautiful. Hope to see you Thursday.

You: Stop texting and driving.

Billy: I live dangerously.

You: Just remember I only date live men. Good night, handsome.

Billy: I’m at a stop light. G’Night, gorgeous.

The next morning, you head into the conference room for the mission briefing and are inundated by Tony the minute you walk in the door. “How was your date last night?”

“Phenomenal,” you take your place and watch as Bucky enters, glances at his usual seat next to you, and then moves to one further down the conference table. You do your best to hide your hurt at the snub.

“Where did Russo take you?” Tony asks.

“Giovanni’s and then to Pulse.” You reply, glancing back at Bucky’s surly demeanor. When you look back to Tony he raises an eyebrow at you in a suggestive manner and you scoff. “Then back here since I had an early morning briefing.”

Steve, Nat, Wanda, Vision, and Sam clamor in then, nearly overshadowing the sound of Bucky’s aggravated grunt but you caught the noise. You look back at him and he is glaring in Tony’s direction. You turn to the front where Steve and Tony begin giving mission details. A two day mission that should be fairly easy to accomplish. Perfect for you, you’ll be back in time to check out Anvil.

The mission went off without a hitch. You had received texts from Billy each day and the two of you had talked back and forth. So when Thursday rolled around, you donned an outfit that was both flattering and appropriate for training exercises. You had a feeling Billy was going to put you into action one way or another.

You arrive at the Anvil facility on your bike and find Billy waiting in the parking lot for you.

“Hello Gorgeous.” Billy smiles, “I should have guessed you’d have a bike.”

“Hey there, handsome. It’s hot, right?” You sass.

“Very. Let me show you around.” Billy surprises you by holding out a hand. You take it and he walks you into the building. He shows you the tactical course and explains the exercises they are running. He takes you up on a catwalk to watch as the teams move through the exercises. Billy asks your opinion at several points and you point out your observations. He takes you down to meet with a few of the team members. He motions to his three best men and says, “gauntlet.”

Immediately, you tense, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. The three encircle you and you spend the next several minutes fighting them. You take each of them down without serious injury until Billy tells them to stop. You smooth your hair, rub a bit of blood from your lip, and look up at Billy.

He approaches you with a smile, “you handled that better than I expected.”

As soon as he’s close enough you lunge forward, headbutting him directly in the mouth. He grabs his mouth and leans away while looking at you with a glint in his eyes.

“Oops. Should I have said ‘gauntlet’ first?” You sass.

Billy smiles and a drop of blood rolls down his chin from his split lip, “I love your fire. I have an offer for you. Let’s go to my office to talk.”

“Lead the way.” You smirk.

Part 5

Masterlist

Permanent: @bubbabarnes @badassbaker @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @cherthegoddess @buckyluvrs @sherlocksmanwatson @cap-n-stuff @finleyjayne @caplanreads @connie326 @daydreamerinadazedworld @bugsbucky @chrisevanscardigan @harrysthiccthighss @palaiasaurus64 @rebekahdawkins @maaaaarveeeeel @tllynn15 @learisa @jelly-fishy-babie @fistmebuckyskywalker @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @liebs82 @honestly-dontknow @a-really-bi-girl @saiyanprincessswanie @baddie-barnes @aikeia @paleo-runaway @marvelgirl7 @starlightcrystalline @xxloki81xx @slytherinambitious @sallycanwait68 @slytherdorxmd @fangirlforever2412

TikTok: @juju092118 @kmuir1 @somewhatasoftbaddie @goldenfightergir @curlyred2020 @obsessedbutnotblessed @little-baby-vixen @honeygingergemini @sheerfreesia007 @jamesbuchananbarnesslut @mollygetssherlockcoffee @thereisa8ella @msmarvelwrites @surrounded-by-superheroes @slytherinandoutasgard @mcolbz14 @kyrarose16 @sxbby-barnes @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines @theoneandonlyslytherinprincess @writerwrites @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @goldenfightergir @angrybirdcr @roserose26 @sloth-with-a-taser @thecornerlot @animegirlgeeky @sagechanoafterdark @i-alyssa @viinchester @kalesrebellion @hermione-grangers-wife @jassy2101 @eurynome827 @kidney9-9

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athenamgh · 3 years

Text

DON'T FORGET ME - #II

a/n: soo this is part twoo... part threee? Hmmm.. not sure yet..

paring/s: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

summary: two broken hearts need to heal each other.. but will they..

warning/s: tears, angst, fluff (i am not sure....)

word count: 2.8k

Chapter I || Chapter II

Natasha Romanoff MASTERLIST

As you stood in front of a mirror smoothing your palms over the small wrinkles on your dark velvet suit, the only thought that was lingering in your mind was how desperately you wanted to crawl up in a ball in your bed and just stay like that forever. You didn’t want to go to that party.

Of course, you wanted to see your dear friends but the thought of how much it will hurt to see Natasha again was almost unbearable. The one that still was, as you understood from Wanda, just as unhappy as you were and you absolutely hated yourself for that.

Your eyes slowly started to travel up your body, the suit still suited you perfectly, shaping your strong arms and wrapping your torso just in the right way. Your gaze stopped at your neck, if a person had very attentive eyes he could spot two necklaces wrapping your neck. You could feel the material of dog tags coldy gazing at your skin, but the other, smaller necklace, you didn’t feel, you just knew it was there, but you didn’t dare to pull it out from under your shirt and look at it, you didn't have the strength, not yet at least.

You felt your heart race as your eyes slowly moved up your face, first they captured your dry lips and a small knife cut scar just above the right corner of your lip. Your tongue brushed it, feeling the roughness of the wounded skin. Finally your eyes connected in a mirror and you saw how your natural pupil color turned to hungry flaming red, your eyes now gloomy, the normal white conjunctiva turning black.

You clenched your jaw at the sight. And you heard a whisper, too familiar whisper: “This is exactly why you could never have her.”. You clenched your fist so tightly that made your knuckles turn white at the words. “You are weak” the voice screamed inside your head and you punched the mirror. It broke, the pieces fell to the ground and your knuckles now covered the blood because of the little cuts. You cursed to yourself remembering that you spent hours picking this mirror and now you will need to order another one again.

---

You already spent around an hour at Tony's party. And you were surprised at how you were still standing here and didn’t leave in the first thirty minutes, because the music was too loud for your enjoyment and people too unrecognizable. You made small talk with almost everyone you knew and now there standing next to the window, your right hand occupied with the glass full of liquid, the other one resting in your pants pocket.. Damn, you missed this view, you could oversee the whole night city from here. People, cars, animals, the smallest lights, streets and buildings, it all were at your feet.

“Unforgettable feeling, huh?” you didn’t even need to turn your head, to know who exactly was standing beside you.

“As you say old man..” you said chuckling, glancing to the side where Tony stood.

He embraced your shoulders with his left arm, “Ahh, that is exactly what I was missing this past year.” You looked at him with a bit surprised expression, arching your eyebrow at him, Tony never was a guy to share too much of his inner feelings. “What?” he asked. You threw your hands up in defence shaking your head. “Those suckers need you” he points over his shoulder, making you turn around and look at Wanda, Steve, Thor and others talking. “Also, I could use your brains for my new project.”

“Do you?” you said playfully not looking back at him. Your eyes wandered through the crowded room, desperately searching for a certain someone, you haven’t seen yet.

Tony definitely noticed it. “It’s still Natasha, isn’t it?” he said quietly. You clench your hand tighter around the glass, taking a swing of the drink.

You closed your eyes, clenching your jaw as hard as you could just to relax it again. Taking a deep breath you answered “It’s always been her,” You chuckled “I am pretty sure it’s always going to be her.”

“Then, why did you leave?�� Tony asked with a serious tone, his straightforwardness made you take a few steps back .

“You know why I left..” you turned to face him, a tired look on your face. You already did this ritual with Steve months ago, you didn’t want to do this again. “I am dangerous!” you said wanting to wrap this up already, but you could see an ignorant expression appear on Tony’s face, he was not satisfied with your answer. “What do you want me to say?”

“What about, something that is not total bullshit?” he said with a dumb smile.

You sighted in frustration looking around the room “I could never give her a happy, normal life for a long run.. never..”

Tony placed his hand on your shoulder, making you look him in the eyes again, “Maybe, you should have let her decide what is her definition of a normal life.. Cuz kiddo, none of us here'' he pointed to other avengers ''are living a normal life and never will.” You looked down at your boots, you knew this all too well, this horrible thought bothered you all the time. Maybe you made a mistake, maybe you rushed, maybe you needed.. well, now it was too late, you screwed up and badly.

You finally look up at him, changing the topic “So, you said you have a project for me?” this yearned a smile from Tony.

“Right this way, kid” he said, chuckling. As you passed others from the corner of your eyes you saw Tony give a small thumbs up to Steve, but you brushed it away.

---

Your eyebrows narrowed and eyes carefully running through the prototype Tony has been working on for the past few months now. It was a confusing and complicated mechanism, but it looked cool and had a bunch of advanced and very beneficial functions to fight off any alarming threats. “Why haven't you connected the A site area to G one, to decrease the speed in case of an overload?” you said pointing to the red area with big letter A.

Tony looks down at the scheme and rubs his palms, “Ahh, you right. How could I have missed that!?” he said, connecting the dots.

“Cuz you old..” you said, chuckling and getting a light punch to your shoulder. You couldn’t lie to yourself as much as you were trying to convince yourself that you didn't miss all of this: helping out Tony, teaching new recruits with Steve, testing Wanda's abilities.. training with Natasha and cuddl... ahh you did miss it.. and a lot actually. The memories of staying up late just to find yourself waking up on top of the table to the smell of Wanda’s pancakes and soft Natasha's touches..

“Tony? Steve said you needed me?” your thoughts interrupted a person whose voice you could have recognized anywhere in the world, no matter how loud or quiet how big or small the place was.. you just in an instance. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up and saw no other but Natasha Romanoff herself. Your jaw dropped as you saw her red curly hair falling perfectly down her shoulder, her black dress hugging her figure just in the right places. She looked stunning. You swore she was one of the most beautiful people that have ever walked this earth.

As she saw you she freezed in her steps, her lips escaped a gasp, “Y/n..”.

“Natasha..” you said almost immediately. You looked at each other frozen, forgetting everyone around. After, what it looked like was a whole minute, you heard Tony shift besides you. And suddenly, you realized the whole signal to Steve and this secret twisted plan. You turned to Tony with narrowed eyes “You didn’t need my help, did you?”

Tony cleared his throat “I’d say no, cuz I am a genius playboy millionaire, but you actually did help to improve the prototype. So that was unexpected.” he said smiling innocently. You rolled your eyes at him.

“No..” you heard the whisper slip through Natasha's lips, you quickly turned to look at her. She shook her head if your eyes weren’t so perceptive you wouldn't have noticed how her eyes watered, she turned around and stormed out of the room.

You glanced at Tony for a second and he mouthed at you ‘GO!’ you took off and started running towards Romanoff.

---

You were about to knock on Natasha's room door but you heard a sob in the opposite direction. You knew exactly who's room it was.. or used to be. You turned around facing the opposite room door, on it was still engraved your name.

Your lips split a gasp as you opened a door and found your room untouched. The bed, the table, hanging photographs, your favorite painting of the Avengers 'squad' , damn you were and still are such a nerd, shelves full of books, all the stuff you forgot to pick up from the compound was still left untouched.

You saw Natasha sitting at the other side of the bed, her back to the entrance. It was quite now, you couldn't hear even the smallest or quietest wail…

''Na- '' you started but she quickly cut you off.

''You know, people knock..'' she said with a serious tone. Her voice was firm, you couldn't hear any cracks in it.

''Technically it's still my room, you know..'' you said playfully.. wishing to ease up the gloomy atmosphere surrounding both of you. But she seemed to ignore your statement..

After a few seconds of silence you spoke up again, with a light voice ''Nat''.

''No'' she quickly said standing up. ''I can't do this..'' she said still facing the wall, her arms now hugging her torso tightly.

''Please, Nat, listen to me'' you were ready to beg for her to just listen to what you had to say.. just listen, that was all you wished for.

''Why, y/n?'' she finally turned around and for the first time in months you really looked into her forest green eyes. They were cold and puffed from tears, her face pale, lips tight and nose a bit running. You noticed that she was also analyzing your face and expressions. ''Tell me why should I listen to you? Why after all this time you decided to explain yourself?'' she was hurt… so hurt.. and damn you hated yourself for that..

“Sometimes… sometimes I just want to rip out my heart and give it to you. Because, I can’t. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t hold this pain in my heart. Because I can’t close my eyes without dreaming of you. I can’t walk anywhere without seeing you. I can’t do anything without you.. y/n''

These words struck you like lightning, your heart clenched in your chest, your eyes watering and vision becoming blurry. You clenched your jaw, looking down. Natasha never was the one to talk about her feelings so freely, but from her eyes you saw that she had enough, she needed to express everything she was feeling, all the pain. But all your lips could spread was only her name "Nat.."

''What? You left me y/n!'' This agonizing scream made you look back at Natasha, her eyes filling up with painful tears. ''You promised that you'll never leave.. and you did..'' she said, her voice cracking. She was right.. Natasha, this amazing woman, who gave you her heart and you crushed it.. and why? Because of your own fears and demons? For being afraid to lose control and put her in danger, for being afraid of losing her because of your selfish acts? ''And the worst thing is that all I can think of..'' she continued, brushing the tear running down her cheek. ''Is that it is all my fault..''

''No no no..'' words quickly spilled through your lips as you took a few steps forwards to be just a little bit closer to Natasha, but she left standing frozen in her place. ''Nat.. it's not your fault.. it never was..'' you said with so much assurance in your eyes.

''Then why?'' Natasha now took a few steps towards you, leaving the two of you a hand stretch apart.

At her question your hands started to shake a little, you closed your eyes taking a deep breath. Your right hand brushing through your hair and stopping at your neck, eyes turned away, intensely staring at the floor. Somewhere deep down in the back of your mind you could hear that awful whisper, cruely reminding you 'you're not worthy of her.. have you forgotten who you are..'

Natasha noticed your body reaction, she grabbed you by your forearms, bringing you a little bit closer to her. Even from such a distance you already could feel the warmth radiating from her, her scent already invading your lungs, oh how much you missed this, even if small, but closeness to her.

''What's wrong y/n'' she asked you, her voice now softer and you could hear a hint of worry in it too.

''I.. '' you stuttered. ''I am so sorry Nat, I didn't want to hurt you.. I.. ha- hate'' your words getting caught in your throat because of upcoming tears ''I hate myself for how much pain I caused you.. I am sooo sorry'' your hands began to shake even more intensively, your eyes shut even tighter.

Natasha brought her hands to your face, cupping your cheeks. ''Y/n look at me'' you shook your head, you couldn't let her see you like this. ''Please..'' she said so warmly and quietly, her warm thumb brushing your cheek with staining tears that you thought you had dried months ago, asking you to look up at her.

Your arms eased up, you took another deep breath, straightened up. You opened your eyes looking at her. You saw how mixed emotions ran through Natasha's face as she for the first time saw your reddish beast's eyes, her hands clenched tighter around your face in surprise. ''I am cursed Nat..'' your eyes watered again, you were ready for her to push you away, but you were confused as to why she was still here, still holding your face so dearly, like her life dependent on it.

''I left because I couldn't let you love somebody who everyday puts you in so much danger.. I couldn't let you love somebody who is forever cursed… you do not deserve it Natasha.. you deserve someone so much better… someone who can actually make you happy.'' a few tears more ran through your cheek, you felt how her thumbs brushed them just beneath your eyelids, she didn't seem to be disgusted or scared of you.

Suddenly she looked deep into your eyes. Those two green orbs staring right back at you, your heart skipped a beat as you realized those eyes still had that unconditional love in them that you missed so much. ''I loved you Nat.. I love you Natasha Romanoff, but I am afraid I do not deserve to have your heart..'' at these last words you felt how Natasha's hands slipped further and wrapped around your neck, bringing you two closer and connecting your lips into such a longing kiss. You secured your arm around her waist at the touch of your lips in an instance, smashing your bodies even closer together. She tasted so sweet and comforting and everything that you missed about her.

You finally separated your lips because you were in need of such mundane thing as oxygen. Taking a deep breath Natasha spoke up ''There is no one more deserving than you y/n..'' she said, brushing the loose strand of hair from your face. ''I do not need a normal life.. hell nothing about my life is normal.. it never was'' she said looking back to your eyes, with light surprise. You could feel that your eyes were back at her natural color shape again.

''And this?'' you gestured to your eye level. Her thumb ghosted just below your right eyelid and then brushed the slim finger lightly against your bottom lip.

She smiled ''I don't care y/n..'' she looked deep into your eyes.. ''I just want you''.

You could feel your eyes sparkle, heart beating like crazy. You took her right hand and brought it to your lips, kissing it lightly, you forgot how indeed soft they were. ''Will you forgive me?'' you asked with so much hope.

''Yes..'' she said with such a light voice and bright smile on her face. You couldn't suppress your happiness anymore. You picked her up and spinned around. As you placed her on the ground you kissed her again. More passionately this time, putting every single drop of love and affection and everything that you were feeling towards her.. so she would know it. Without any doubts.

Natasha broke the kiss away gasping for air. ''Woah, calm down tiger!'' she said with a smile ''We have a lot to catch up'' she said with a smirk spreading across her face, making you arch your eyebrow at her seductively.

#natasha x y/n #natasha #nat #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widdow #black widow fic #black widow x reader #reader #natasha x reader #story #avengers #avengers x reader #the avengers #avenger fanfiction

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inkblot-inc · 1 year

Note

Jaws being in the middle of gaming and too impatient to open their water bottle so they just- bite the top off the water bottle, spot out the top and drink from the hole. Peter and Yelena find it hilarious and Jaws is kind of proud till Wanda and Nat find out.

We're all of the school of thought that this was not a basic plastic bottle, right? Right.

Jaws just tearing the reinforced cap off of their Yeti bottle in a mix of impatience having to unscrew the water bottle each time and frustration at currently losing in the Smash Bros stock match they were having with Yelena and Peter 😂

Fortunately, it wasn't their new Hydroflask but still-

#jaws au #jaws is a force to be reckoned with #jaws' pointy grill #jaws playing video games #jaws playing smash bros with peter and yelena #jaws is competitive #all three of them are so competitive tho my GOD-#peter has the upper hand because *experience*#yelena remembers combos super quick too #jaws using brute force and it's actually effective-#jaws being down to their last stock and getting huffy #like peter and yelena both have two still #that poor friggin water bottle T-T #jaws' water bottles all get modified for them *specifically* so they aren't cheap #nat is so *tired* y’all #wanda is *tired* y’all #wanda's sisterly duties are never done #jaws makes tony’s pockets hurt #peter parker #yelena belova #wanda maximoff #jaws maximoff #natasha romanoff #mutant!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #j.headcanons #ib/jaws #ink.yelena #ib-jc.

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lady-salvatore · 3 years

Text

Champagne Problems

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Desc.: Steve proposed to you, and you said no. It takes a week for the both of you to figure out why.

Warnings: angst, mentions of mental illness, female reader, happy ending :)

Notes: AHH so this is my first Marvel fic, please let me know what y’all think. 💖

Steve stared at that glittering diamond ring between his thumb and finger, staring at it as if somehow it had malfunctioned.

Or maybe he had.

He leaned back into the seat of the very empty train, your ‘no’ echoing in his head a thousand times over. He wondered if it was him, if he’d done something wrong— if that was why you wouldn’t marry him.

He guessed there’d been signs throughout the night. You were pensive, quiet. You didn’t want to dance. You weren’t smiling.

Steve wrote it off as nerves. You must’ve known what was coming, you were just anxious was all.

He thought it would all be fixed when he got down on one knee. He saw tears glimmering in your eyes and mistook them for happiness.

He was wrong.

In the chest pocket of Steve’s jacket (a suit he’d bought just for tonight) was his wallet. Inside was a picture of you, and it felt like that picture was going to burn a hole right through his chest.

You burst through the door of your apartment, slamming it behind you and leaning against it. Tears and mascara ran down your face as you tried to breathe against the constriction on your chest.

Your roommate and best friend, Wanda, came into the room with wide eyes. “(Y/N), what-“

“I said no,” you gasped helplessly for air. “I said no. He asked me to marry him and I said no.”

Wanda’s jaw fell open and her eyes filled with pity. She came over and wrapped you in her arms. “You’re freezing! And shaking...”

You sobbed against her shoulder as she guided you to sit down on the couch. “I don’t know what he even wanted with me in the first place. I’m too far gone— broken, or something.”

“You’re not broken,” Wanda said softly, petting your head. “You’re just not ready, that’s all.”

But what if you were never ready?

Suddenly, Wanda spoke again. “Vis, could you make some tea?”

“Of course, darling,�� Vision said as he floated through Wanda’s door. “Do feel better, (Y/N).”

You nodded and through him a weak smile, not trusting yourself not to break out into tears again.

Steve had tried to call Bucky on his way to his apartment. He needed to talk to someone, tell someone what had happened. But Bucky never answered, so Steve was left to deal with this alone.

He unlocked his apartment door and stumbled inside, flicking on the light.

He heard a loud chorus of “surprise!” and the sound of a champagne bottle popping open. Steve looked around to see his friends gathered around the apartment, with party decorations and food and drinks.

Steve met Bucky’s eyes, and immediately Bucky’s eyes widened. He knew what had happened. He could read Steve like a book, and somehow Steve was grateful for that now. He would never have to tell him.

Slowly, the realization dawned over the room as they stared at Steve— alone, disheveled, eyes red from crying.

Natasha held the champagne bottle awkwardly in her hand. “What... what-“

“She said no,” Steve grumbled harshly. He stumbled past his friends and toward his bedroom. “Goodnight, everyone.”

He slammed the door to his room and felt the pain wash over him again.

You lied in your bed, staring up at the ceiling as waves of memories intruded your mind.

Steve always opened doors for you. Always, without fail. I know you can open your own doors, I’m just trying to be a gentleman.

And he handed you his jacket whenever you shivered. You never even asked for it. He would just wordlessly drape it over your shoulders, even when he was cold, too. It doesn’t matter if I’m cold, I’d rather have you be warm.

The way he talked about his friends like they were family. The way his blue eyes lit up when he saw you. The way his smiles seemed to be made just for you.

You loved Steve Rogers— hopelessly, effortlessly, always— so you had to protect him.

He didn’t know he was signing his life away to the will of your baggage. You knew how heavy that burden was.

You couldn’t let him carry it.

It had been a week. Steve’s finger had lingered over your number in his phone for days, too afraid to actually dial. He turned off his phone again as Natasha carried a box of Christmas lights past him.

It didn’t seem right— decorating the tower for Christmas without you here. Hanging the lights was your job.

Tony was doing it this year. But he didn’t hum as he strung them up. He didn’t smile when the lights came on.

He just stood joylessly on the ladder as he fiddled with the strings.

Natasha sighed and patted Steve on the shoulder when she noticed him sulking. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Maybe she’ll change her mind,” Bucky grumbled.

Steve looked at him quizzically. “You think?”

“Look, Cap,” Tony said from the ladder, “you can just find a new girlfriend. Easy peasy.”

“Excuse me?” Steve growled.

Tony smirked. “She was out of her mind anyway.”

“Watch your mouth, Stark,” Steve hissed as he jumped out of his chair. “(Y/N) isn’t crazy, and you don’t get to talk about her like that.”

He felt Bucky grab his shoulder. “Steve-“

“I’m fine,” he huffed, knowing he was far from fine. “(Y/N) wasn’t crazy. She was perfect. She is perfect.”

“I know,” Bucky whispered, patting him on the shoulder. But maybe you should move on.

Steve didn’t want to move on. Not ever. Not from you, and if he had to spend another seventy years fixing whatever it is that had happened between you, that’s what he’d do.

You were wrapped up in blankets on the couch, eyes red and sore from crying as you watched another sad movie.

You had barely moved in days. Losing Steve was like losing a part of yourself. No matter how good your reasons, no matter how far you distanced yourself from the pain of it all, it still hurt— always, always, always.

Steve Rogers was the best part of your life, and now he was gone. You knew that pain would never dull.

Your mind told you not to regret the decision. You were protecting him. He’d be better off without you.

But your heart was a traitor and missed Steve with every beat.

A knock sounded at the door. You got up to go get it, thinking Wanda had forgotten her key again.

Instead, you were faced with Steve, who looked just as horrible and heartbroken as you did.

His blue eyes met yours. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you responded weakly, feeling like you were about to curl up and die. “What are you-“

“What did I do?” he asked, eyes pleading. “(Y/N), I’m struggling here, because I just don’t know what I did wrong, and... just... what did I do?”

He thought it was his fault.

Your heart sank. “You didn’t do anything.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “Then what happened?”

“You’re too good for me,” you whispered suddenly, tears flooding your face. “And you deserve better than me.”

“(Y/N), that’s not true-“

“It is.” You took a step away from the door, away from him. “It is. I’m messed up, Steve, and you and I both know it.”

“Don’t say that!” he said, stepping into the apartment. “If you’re not gonna marry me, that’s fine, but don’t you dare say it’s because you’re not good enough!”

“But I’m not!” you cried. “You deserve somebody better than me! You deserve somebody who won’t pull away when you want to dance! Somebody who isn’t gonna run away and leave you on that landing! Somebody who will say yes to you without hesitation, who isn’t afraid to love you! And I am not that person!”

“I don’t want that person!” he yelled back, eyes softening. “All I want is you. Isn’t that enough?”

Tears ran down your face and Steve wiped them away, pulling you into his embrace.

“Do you promise?” you whispered hoarsely through a sob. “Do you promise that I’m enough?”

“Always have been, always will be,” he whispered, smiling down at you softly. “And... if you’re not ready for marriage, we’ll wait. I’ll wait.”

You knew it then, that you wanted to marry Steve Rogers. With every fiber of your being, you loved him.

That night, you found the ring in his pocket and slipped it onto your finger. It was sized perfectly, as if it were meant to be there. You had no doubt in your mind that you and Steve were a perfect fit as well.

There would always be days when your mind got the better of you. Steve may have not been able to change that, but it was a little easier to carry the burden of your own darkness when Steve’s light was right there beside you.

Love was enough, and you had enough love for him to last forever.

#my post #marvel #mcu #captain america #marvel cinematic universe #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader

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