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scoonsalicious · 3 months

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Unwanted, Chapter 1: Unarmed, Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: (For this part only) Following the events of CA:CW, Tony Stark has offered Steve Rogers an olive branch of sorts to bring The Avengers back together. You, CTO of Stark Industries and head of Innovation & Technology for the Avengers' Initiative, have your doubts, as you're not quite ready to forgive Captain America for ripping your family apart just yet. Steve had one condition, however, when agreeing to return to the team, one that's going to turn your life upside down and inside out: If he's coming back to join The Avengers, he's bringing his best friend, Bucky Barnes, with him.

Warnings: (For this part only) Language (obviously), minor mention of alcohol, I'm obviously on Team Tony during the CW; don't come for me, awful jokes, minor use of (Y/N). As always, if I missed any, please let me know.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Here's a little preview of Unwanted. In it's current form, it's standing at about 50k words, with about 25k still in editing, and I'm maybe about half done with writing the entire thing? I'm not going to lie, it starts out cute and fluffy, but it's gonna get real angsty and painful. Dear Reader has unresolved emotional trauma and Bucky doesn't understand the importance of boundaries in 21st century relationships. This piece has been my baby for several months now; I really hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you'd like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

"You're sure you're cool with this, Boss?" you asked Tony Stark, for what was probably the ten thousandth time in the last hour. The two of you were sitting by yourselves off in a corner of the common area of the Avengers Tower while the rest of your team congregated around the bar, eagerly anticipating the official return of Captain America to the Avengers. That, by itself, would be enough to warrant a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, but what had everyone in attendance talking was the fact that Steve Rogers wouldn't be returning alone.

Your billionaire employer sighed and swirled his glass of Laphroaig, the amber liquid sloshing along the sides of the tumbler. "I don't love it, Pocket, but it was Cap's only condition for coming back into the fold, and since Barton, Wilson, and Maximoff all went off the reservation with him, it seemed a small price to pay to get everyone back under one roof." He took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at his use of your nickname. Thor had inadvertently given it to you when you first met the God of Thunder years ago, remarking for everyone to hear that you were so small and tiny, he could tuck you into his pocket and abscond away with you to Asgard. Somehow, it stuck. You'd hated it at first; it had felt dismissive and condescending, which of course meant that it soon became the only thing the members of your team called you, but the more they used in their daily lives, the more you actually came to love it. It was a brand new, unique identity that came to embody the person you’d become, and the past you’d worked so hard to put behind you. You were more likely to answer to 'Pocket,' now, than you were your legal name, and you were grateful for it.

"Besides," Tony continued with a shrug, "if letting the Barnes thing go means we get the band back together, I'm willing to be the bigger person about it."

You stared at him, impressed. "Well look at you. When did you get so emotionally evolved?"

"Since Pepper told me I needed to start seeing a therapist or she’d leave me once and for all," he admitted to you with a cheeky wink; you both knew that, though Tony drove his partner, Pepper Potts, absolutely insane sometimes, she loved him far too much to ever walk away from him for good. That didn’t stop the threats, though. Lord knows he tried her patience. In your opinion, the woman was a saint.

Your eyes widened at the revelation and you let out a low whistle of appreciation. "You're going to therapy? Wow. Tony, That's amazing. I'm proud of you."

"Oh please," Tony scoffed, "I have much more important things to do than sit on a couch and spill my feelings. Besides, my secrets are too valuable to divulge to an actual human being. I just trained FRIDAY on therapeutic conversational datasets so she can handle all that psychological mumbo jumbo and then I paired that with BARF's augmented reality-- it's seriously the platinum standard in mental healthcare. No awkward silences or judgmental stares, just pure efficiency. You should try it; it’d do you wonders. And the best part? No copays."

You chuckled as you took a sip of your pineapple and Malibu. "Yeah, okay. That completely tracks for you," you told him with a smile. "So, what did Dr. FRIDAY tell you that got you to change your mind about the Barnes situation?"

Furrows appeared between Tony's eyebrows as he took another sip of whiskey to buy time for collecting his thoughts. There was still so much pain in him where Bucky Barnes was concerned. You'd worked for him in some capacity for nearly fifteen years and you'd never seen him as defeated as he'd been when he got off that Quinjet from Siberia. He'd been bloodied, battered and utterly broken, body and soul. Seeing him like that had shattered you, and you never wanted to live through something like that again.

Tony ran you through his experience with his therapeutic innovation, and you had to admit, it was impressive. The system had helped him realize that Bucky Barnes wasn't responsible for the heinous crimes Hydra had brainwashed him into completing, and so his anger over the death of his parents, while justified, had been misdirected.

"Once I processed that, it was a quick jump to realizing we can't be the best version of the Avengers if we only have half the team at home, and it's innocent people who would pay the price for it. So, when I reached out to Cap and he agreed to come back if I agreed to let him bring Barnes with him, well..." Tony trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand toward the where the rest of the team was waiting.

"So, you and Rogers are just, what? Good then? All water under the bridge?" you asked him, mild irritation clouding your voice.

"Oh, absolutely not." Tony took another sip of whiskey. "I can work with him again, and I'm glad to, but we're not going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon."

"Good," you said, raising your glass in a mock toast to Tony. "I'm not quite ready to forgive him on your behalf just yet." Tony had essentially saved your life when you first met him, and he’d continued to support and guide your career to heights you could have never imagined. You'd started as a systems analyst and mechanical engineer at Stark Industries fresh out of college, and under Tony’s mentorship, it wasn’t long before you found yourself rising to the position of the company’s Chief Technical Officer, second in command only to Pepper, now that Tony had passed on the reins to her. All this happened long before he'd ever brought you in to work with him on the Avengers Initiative, and now you spent the majority of your time heading up their Technology and Innovation Department, as well.

Any kind of healthy respect you might have had for your boss had died out a long, long time ago, because Tony Stark was Tony Stark, but now he was just Tony-- more like an annoying older brother you loved dearly, whose name just happened to be on your paychecks. You owed him everything and that had earned him your unwavering loyalty. You'd follow him to hell and back again if he asked it of you, though he knew he’d never have to; you’d be paving the path there right alongside him.

The sound of laughter made its way across to you from the other side of the room and you felt warmth at the sound-- everyone, together again and happy. Just a few short months ago, you never would have been able to imagine the scene before you, not after the fight in Berlin and its brutal aftermath. You had thought for sure that this little family you'd found yourself in the middle of had been destroyed beyond repair.

So, you might have had your own reasons to be pissed at Steve Rogers.

"What's Barnes like?" you asked Tony. Having only ever glimpsed him from a distance, or from behind a computer monitor, you'd utilized all the resources at your disposal to dig up as much information on the Winter Soldier as possible, but even your skills hadn't been able to get you what simply didn't exist. "You know I don't like unknown quantities."

Tony seemed to think for a moment. "You mean, aside from being a brainwashed, murderous assassin?"

"Tony," you chastised. You knew that Barnes had spent a good deal of time in Wakanda before coming home to New York, working on having the words that triggered his homicidal alter-ego neutralized. Rogers may not always acted rationally when it came to making decisions about his oldest friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t be bringing Barnes back to the Tower if he posed a serious danger to the rest of you. Right?

"Fine," Tony said, with a typical exaggerated sigh. "Aside from being a former brainwashed, murderous assassin; better?" You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Don't really know, didn't care enough to ask. I'll be happy as long as he doesn't start murdering us all in our sleep. Cap vouches for him, so that counts for something. Maybe not as much as it did once upon a time, but something. But T’Challa seems to think he’s harmless enough now, so that’s good enough for me."

You nodded, taking another sip of your pineapple and Malibu, then leaned back, pensive. "Oh, God," you said after a moment of thought, sitting up in alarm. "You don't think it’s going to be like having an entire extra Rogers around, do you? All '40s morality and emotional repression? Because I am so over having him police my language." It wasn't that you had anything against Captain America as an Avenger, but there was only so much of the Boy Scout act you could take before you started getting nauseous. And okay, fine, you weren't too proud to admit it-- there was a not-so-small part of you that still hadn't forgiven him for what you saw as his blatant betrayal of Tony when he refused to sign the Accords. You'd promised to play nice, though, for the sake of your family, but your personal relationship with The Star-Spangled Man had taken heavy damage since Berlin.

Tony chuckled. "As if you'd ever let Cap's presence keep you from a good profanity. I should put out a swear jar. We could fund that crisis algorithm project of yours off your mouth alone."

"Fuck you, Tony," you uttered with a chuckle, fully aware that he had your number. You never met a four-letter word you didn’t fall immediately in love with.

"And look at that," Tony said with a smirk, "I just made another dollar. Hey FRIDAY, open up a new savings account and deposit a dollar into every time Pocket has a potty mouth."

"On it, Boss," the AI replied cheerfully.

You swore at Tony a few more times for good measure. "I fully intend to financially bleed you dry now, asshole."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my custom Tom Ford's," Tony mockingly bemoaned, putting his feet, enclosed in the aforementioned ridiculously expensive loafers, up on the coffee table.

Raised voices from the other side of the room caught your attention. You stood up and craned your neck, trying to see what had caused the commotion. "I think they're here, Boss," you said.

"Alright," Tony said, standing up and putting an arm around your shoulder, "big smiles, kiddo. Remember, we're supposed to be happy about this." You suppressed a chuckle as you watched Rogers present Bucky Barnes to the rest of the team. Everyone was welcoming; you wouldn’t have expected any less, but as you watched their body language, the only word that came to mind was guarded. And you completely understood; The Winter Soldier’s reputation had preceded him, after all. There were hugs for Rogers, of course, but no one made any attempt to reach out to his friend.

Despite your overall annoyance with Rogers, you couldn't help but feel some degree of happiness for the giant oaf. When you'd been assigned on a mission with him (which happened fairly frequently, as he was so pathetically abysmal with anything having to do with technology) and ended up having to hole up in a safehouse for an extra couple of days while waiting for extraction, he'd started opening up to you about James Buchanan Barnes, and the reminiscing had made him so happy, you encouraged Steve to tell you everything about this Bucky. After that, the trouble was getting Rogers to stop telling his Bucky stories. If he wasn't sharing tales about growing up with his best friend during the Great Depression and all the absolute mischief they got into, he was sharing war stories of their time together with the Howling Commandos. He'd even shared his grief with you– how painful it had been to watch Barnes fall from that train and the guilt he carried for not being able to save him. He’d confessed to you once that, when he went into the ice, fully prepared to die, there was a part of him that was relieved to be reunited with Barnes in the next life, and waking up some 70 years later to a world where he was still alive but Bucky was still gone had broken his heart all over again. And yet, here they were– together in the next life, after all. If you were a different kind of person, you’d say it was a goddamn miracle.

Because of the way Rogers described his best friend in those old stories, you were expecting Bucky Barnes to come swaggering along next to him, with a cocksure tilt to his head and a panty-dropping smirk playing along his lips, but the man who accompanied Steve was the furthest thing from that.

He shuffled behind Rogers slowly, looking at the floor and avoiding making eye contact with anyone else from the team. His hair hung long and limp, curtaining off his face as though it were a protective barrier. Though, if it was keeping him away from everyone else, or everyone else away from him, you couldn't be sure. He was much thinner than you'd anticipated, especially for a super soldier– though still extremely muscular, giving you the impression that it had been a long time since he'd let himself indulge in anything more than the bare minimum amount of calories he needed for survival. Tilting your head, you tried to steal a glance at his infamous metal arm, the thing of legends that had turned him from a run-of-the-mill assassin into the stuff of waking nightmares.

But the sleeve of his jacket hung limp, only empty space where the appendage should have been.

Curious. He'd come to Tony Stark's home unarmed. Your hand flew to your mouth to try and stop the uncontrollable snicker that broke loose at your own stupid joke. Tony elbowed you gently in the ribs to shut you up, and you hoped you were too far away and the others too distracted by Steve's introductions to notice you, but that thought flew right out the window when Bucky Barnes' head snapped up at the sound, his eyes locking onto yours from across the room.

"Holy shit," you breathed, knowing another dollar would go into Tony's digital swear jar, but damn if the man didn't have the most striking blue eyes you had ever seen. There were dark circles under them, and he looked incredibly tired, yeah, but they were beautiful. You didn't mean to stare, but you found you couldn't look away, either, and so the two of you were locked into some sort of impromptu staring contest. The longer you looked at him, the more you could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from him, as well as a level of wariness at being in a room full of strangers. It was almost overwhelming.

But then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell was broken. Blinking once, Bucky looked away and you felt the tension vanish from between you.

"What was that about?" Tony asked you in a low singsong voice.

"I have no idea," you answered, honestly. There had been so much pain and loneliness in his eyes. You'd seen eyes like that before, when you were younger and looked at your own reflection in the mirror following a scalding shower with your skin scrubbed raw and bloody. You suppressed a shiver.

Finally, Steve managed to disengage himself and Bucky from the other Avengers and began making his way toward you and Tony. Up close, you were struck by how tall Bucky was. He had to be at least a foot taller than you, if not more. And God, he was handsome. Granted, in a kind of heroin-chic sort of way, but still. A couple of good nights' sleep, a few good meals, some light personal grooming, and... well, there was a very good chance you were going to be in trouble once he got his shit together, that was for sure.

"And Buck," Steve was saying, drawing you out of your ogling, "This is our resident computer genius, Pocket (Y/L/N). You ever need help with anything technology-related, she's your girl."

"A bit of an over-simplified version, Rogers," you said, sticking your hand out to shake Bucky’s, "but yeah, that about covers it."

Bucky looked at you, then down at your hand, making no move to take it.

"What the hell kind of name is Pocket?" he asked, voice rough as though he hadn’t been using it a lot. Pulling your hand back, you shot him an annoyed glare.

"I don't know," you oozed back sarcastically. "What the hell kind of name is Bucky?"

"It's his nickname, Pocket," Steve supplied helpfully, though not without a trace of confusion. You gave him an annoyed, pointed look.

"No shit, Rogers." You turned back to Bucky and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "So, what do you think Pocket is, then?"

"Oh," said Bucky, catching on. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Gotcha; m'sorry about that. My manners are rusty from a severe lack of use."

You didn't mean it, but your mouth curved up into a hint of a smile, too. And then, almost as if you couldn't stop yourself from doing it, you found yourself saying "I see you've arrived unarmed."

There was a long, heavy beat of silence as Steve and Tony stared at you, mouths slightly agape, and you wondered if you'd made a critical error. You were just about to punch yourself in the face and claim you had a concussion and therefore couldn't be held responsible for what you said when Bucky burst into laughter.

It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard, and it was contagious. Through your own laughter, you risked a glance up at Steve. He was looking back and forth between you and Bucky, an indiscernible look in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd heard his best friend laugh. Hell, you wondered how long it had been since Bucky Barnes had laughed at all.

"Pocket," Tony groaned, palming his face, "that was truly terrible, even for you."

"I'm sorry," you said, trying to catch your breath through your burst of giggles. "It just slipped out-- I couldn’t help it. You know once these things come into my head, they just bounce around in there until they fall out. I didn't mean it."

Steve smiled at you. "So that's what you were snickering at," he said, amused. Damn that enhanced super soldier hearing. Rogers didn't need to be so nosy with it.

You shrugged. "What can I say? Bad jokes are my superpower. Don't be jealous that all you got was super strength and a six pack, Rogers."

Bucky laughed again, then nudged Steve playfully with his elbow. "I like this one, Stevie," he said. "She's funny."

You weren't sure why, exactly, but something in Bucky's words turned your insides into a warm puddle of goo.

Oh, you were going to be in trouble, indeed.

Next Part ->

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #mcu bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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astroph1les · 8 months

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about that spider-woman [h.c]

summary: hazel knew that being spider-woman came with sacrifices which meant having to keep that side of her life from the people she loved; including you. you mean everything to her and she can’t risk something happening to you if whoever was after spider-woman knew that you were connected to her, let alone her girlfriend. after an intense and brutal fight with this new menancing creature, the closest place hazel can go is yours. she doesn’t have a choice anymore other than to reveal to you the truth. will the consequences be as dire as she had imagined?

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language and content, light smut, heavy violence, blood, spider!hazel, established relationship between hazel & reader, angst, mcu! elements such as the characters (tony stark, happy, pepper potts, etc.), the amazing spider-man elements (dr.curt connors aka the lizard).

I. all in a day’s work

II. second guessing

III. a confession & question

IV. TBA

V. TBA

divider credits: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#hazel callahan #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #wlw #sapphic #ruby cruz #hazel callahan x you #spider hazel

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madeforstarker · 28 days

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[ tags: secret relationship, half of end game never happened, repost from old account ]

Peter sat stiffly beside Mr. Stark as he started the engine of his car, he's driving Peter back to his apartment in Brooklyn, a three hour drive at three in the fucking morning. Peter hates it. He hates that they had to hide whatever they had. Whatever sinful, whatever deep, whatever profound thing that they had.

"What's on your mind, kiddo?" Mr. Stark asks softly, affectionately. Peter doesn't argue with the kid or the kiddo that always seemed to be a habit for Mr. Stark to adress him when the older man felt like it.

"I just hate this." Peter whisper softly.

Mr. Stark's eyes doesn't leave the road. Three hours, Upstate New York to Brooklyn. Peter could book an Uber, but Mr. Stark always drives him back, it was an extension, an excuse to have more time spent together.

"This drive? or... me?" He hears the older man ask.

"Never of you." Peter answers, without second thought. like a knee-jerk reaction whenever Mr. Stark voices out his insecurities.

"What is it that you hate then?" The older man asks, his fists tight against the luxurious wheel of the equally luxurious but low-key car. A car no one knew Tony Stark had.

"Of this," Peter gestures the whole car, "Of us being a secret, of us hiding, of you losing sleep just so you can drive me back to my apartment, of me not being able to talk about you to my friends, how amazing you are, how great you are, how much I love-" Peter stops, his voice was shaky, on the verge of crying.

"Pete, baby, I love you," Mr. Stark starts, he takes the next exit, a longer route back to Brooklyn, "But we can't right now. Not right now, baby. Not when the divorce is still on the process. The press, baby, the press will eat you up, they'll drown you with lies, they'll make you into someone you are not."

"But, I am the reason. What they'll say? It'll all be probably right. I did get in between you and Ms. Potts-"

"No, you did not." Mr. Stark snaps, "Peter, you never came in between me and Pepper. We had this coming. And you know that we didn't marry for love. Even the engagement was a back up plan. The fucking wedding was an implusive anguish-ridden move because I thought I lost you. But right now, Pete, this is going to look so wrong to the outside eye."

"Then maybe I don't want to be right. I just want you, Mr. Stark. Sir, I just-" Peter sobs, as he clenches his fist against his eyes, he couldn't stop the tears that fell from his eyes, he hated this, he hated being so needy, he hated that he felt scared that Mr. Stark might change his mind and stop the divorce and-

"Hey, hey, baby, talk to me, come on, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" The older man asks worriedly, he pulls over by the curb, parking the car, as he slaps his seatbelt off, turning his body towards Peter.

"What-, What if you get tired of me? What- fuck, What if you change your mind and stop the motion for divorce? O-or, what if you find someone else better than me? What if he or she changes your mind and then you'll have the divorce but not for me? Wha-"

"Let me stop you right there, Peter." Mr. Stark says gently, he slides his seat back, and pats his lap, inviting him to crawl over to him, which Peter does in an instant. He slaps his seatbelt off and scramble to sit on Mr. Stark's thighs.

"Isn't it obvious that you're meant for me and I'm meant for you? Every piece of you fits me perfectly, Every second, I wish I was with you instead, Every thought, it's you. Jesus Christ, it's always been you, Peter. It's wrong, I know, but God help me, you're the one I want to be with until the end. No one will ever come close to you. Nothing will ever come close to what I feel for you." Mr. Stark whispers as he holds Peter in his arms, carding his thick fingers through his soft curls.

Peter buries his nose on the soft expanse of the older man's neck, bathing his nose with the scent of home, his love, his Mr. Stark.

"One day, Pete, I'll hold your hand on the streets, I'll dance with you at every gala, I'll have you on my arm as my date to every party, I'll shout out my love for you from every roof top in New York. But for now, we have to wait, baby. I don't want you to be painted in a bad light, you deserve better. You deserve only the best. You're the only good thing that had ever happened in my endearingly bad life, I will not let other people ruin it. I love you, baby. And that will never change." The older man says with such a gentle tone, soft and filled with emotions. Peter doesn't argue anymore.

"I love you too, sir. More than you'll ever know." Peter whispers back as he presses a kiss on the older man's stubbled jaw.

Mr. Stark doesn't let Peter leave his lap, the car starts and it's on auto-drive, Peter falls asleep in Mr. Stark's arms. Sated and happy.

#starker #tnpt #made: prompts!#made: writes!

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waywardcrow · 5 months

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Timeless.

Chapter IV.

Summary: 1943. 1975. 2024. Three different decades, three different lives, three different times your life and Bucky's interwined; he lost you twice, will he do it again?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader.

TW: It can change each chapter but themes of Bucky as soldier and as the Winter Soldier in general, flashbacks and dreams in italics like this, lots of feels, reader's being a little anxious, some stalking lol, a brief sex scene (p in v), very bad written smut, implied domestic violence (not from Bucky), murder mentioned, past lives, past 40'sreader is mentioned to be named Beth but that changes for 2024 version of her so I nicknamed her little bird for Bucky, Ace for everybody else, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: Please remember english is not my first language so if I make a mistake or forget something let me know.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Previous chapter <;<<

You were fired, that wasn’t a surprise.

Mia Alexander didn’t sue you for every penny you had, that was shocking.

But getting a call from Pepper Potts herself, that was the real main event of your whole life.

She asked you to go and pay her a visit at her office in the Avengers tower, like if that didn’t send you in a spiral of bliss and terror, what will you wear? What could a woman like her want to talk with someone like you? Even if Sergeant Barnes –Bucky, you reminded yourself- told her what had happened in the gala, she might be mad at you.

Your head begun to think in the possibilities all the way there, considering that this was the reason why Mia didn’t sued you, maybe Pepper Potts would do it.

When you finally arrived to the tower your stomach was in knots, not even your lucky outfit made you feel better but like every other day in your life you sucked it up and walked to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m here to see Miss Potts?” you said, making it sound more like a question and the receptionist stared at your vintage midi skirt and blouse like he understood your hesitation. You offered him a smile before telling him your name so he looked for it in the screen in front of him and gave you a visitant pass.

“Third floor, follow the hall, last door in your right” he said and then went back to his screen.

“Oh, ok, thanks” your neck was hot with embarrassment when you reached the elevators and just became more evident when you got in and someone else did too.

“Good morning, third floor too?” Scott Lang, THE Scott Lang, asked you and you could only nod like an idiot. He did a double take on your face and smiled “hey, I know you; you are the girl who throws champagne at evil bosses.”

You were turning purple, it was a sure thing.

“What?” it was all you said.

“Yeah, the other night you did an incredible stunt, Sam told us everything” so Captain America knew too, great. Scott must saw something in your expression because his changed “is ok, seriously, when we hear what she did no one blamed you for it, I was sure Hope was about to kick her ass and don’t let me start with Yelena” your head was spinning “I think it was brave and more subtle than ruining your boss company and driving a car to his pool”

That earned a strangled laugh from you.

“Are you going to see Miss Potts too, Mr. Lang?” you asked when the elevator doors opened again and you walked with him.

“Actually I’m going to see Maria Hill but I’ll see you later” he smiled at you with such honesty that you relaxed for the first time in all day, making your way to your destiny you noticed the front desk for Miss Potts assistant was empty and you were just on time which was as good as being late.

Without not knowing what to do, you knocked at her door.

“Come in”.

Taking a deep breath, you did it squaring your shoulders and trying to tell yourself everything would be fine.

“Good morning, Miss Potts, I hope is ok I called, there was no one and-“

“It’s completely fine” she said gesturing for you to sit in front of her and went to address your formally even if contradicted her next words “Please call me Pepper, everyone does.

There was something about her, a professionalism that was inspiring but also made her approachable and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Only if you call me by my first name too”

“It’s what you like to be called? Because Sam told me about your friend calling you Ace when he went with Sergeant Barnes to the hospital, I think it fits you” at her words it was impossible not to blush again; first of all because of the mention of Bucky, the recurrent thought of your head the last days and then because of the nickname Harper gave you.

“I mean, yeah, my friends call me that” it was an exaggeration, you only had one friend.

“Maybe we should stick to it, between me and you Pepper is not even my name but I think is perfect for me” there was something like nostalgia in her eyes but she didn’t let you think too much about it “and I like that my employees feel comfortable when we talk.”

“Excuse me, what?” it was really embarrassing how you couldn’t form a decent sentence in front of her.

“I would like you to be my assistant, Ace” she said and then your life really changed.

Bucky still could tasted you, the other you, the one who reincarnated and was born in a rich Italian family in 1950, the one that somehow found him when he was The Winter Soldier.

He wasn’t supposed to fuck you in your fiancée’s car, well ex fiancée, you couldn’t marry a dead asshole. His mind couldn’t know why he needed you that bad but his body did, Bucky was sure it was the conditioning what made him be such a caveman with you but the truth was, you were his mirror back then.

You wanted him since Lucas bragged about his connections to Hydra and how they lend him their best asset to protect the arsenal his father’s company will provided for them. Your whole attention was in the silent assassin who looked at you like you were everything he could ever want.

Lucas wasn’t great with you, his little bird, that’s why he snapped his neck and took you away, sometimes his nightmares will let him breath and remember you surrounding him, riding his cock, high in pleasure, telling him that you loved him before you both were found and he was dragged back to Hell.

As a small blessing, he didn’t remembered that while dreaming, Bucky was too lost on you, in the salty taste of your skin against his tongue when he traced the valley of your naked breasts with it.

“Give me one more, little bird” he ordered, thrusting in and out of you with an incredible skill considering the small space “drench my cock again.”

His english was perfect with you, no sign of hesitation, not remembering he wasn’t supposed to speak it so naturally when it wasn’t necessary; the Brooklyn accent showing up without effort.

“I- I can’t” you sobbed, drunk on him, your body asking for more.

“You will” his metal hand let go your neck to play with your clit, the cold metal sending you to your climax once again, taking him with you.

The softness of your skin against his was the last thing he remembered before waking up.

Harper called you when you got back home and screamed when you tell her the news; she made a joke about coming to work with you so she could see Sam Wilson every day, making you feel better. Since you convinced your parents go and have the retirement they deserved, Harper was the only one you had and she was more than what you deserved but sometimes you wished for more, for someone to go home to.

Like a fool, your mind went to Sergeant Barnes; you needed to thank him for what he did for you.

If not for him, you would have be ruined but how could someone put that in a thank you card?

Maybe you could bake something for him.

Bucky likes apple pie.

The thought came out of nowhere with an intense hint of pain between your eyebrows, what was that?

Maybe a nap would help, your new job waited for you and this was the chance you dreamed of, ruining it wasn’t an option.

When Bucky went to check on you that night, you were already sleeping in your couch, making very difficult for him to let you there. Of course he could break in and carry you to your room without waking you up but it would make you feel unsafe.

It was hard for him to go back to a civilian life, or the closest he could have, his actions needed to be careful, especially around you. It was also torture he remembered almost everything and you nothing at all, that he couldn’t tell you about that night on your porch in 1943 or your breakfast with him, Steve and the Howlies when your unit was sent to Europe and destiny brought you both together again, he couldn't tell you about that time in Italy.

Bucky wanted you to know everything but you will never believe him, in the best case you'd believe it was a joke or a proof of him losing his mind but you could also believe him dangerous –which he was- and get away from him where Bucky would not be able protect you.

Sited there in your fire escape, he started to memorize every part of you he could see through the darkness, if that was all he could have from you, he would make it be enough.

Tag list: @cjand10 @bunnyforhim @cookingdancingchick

Next chapter >>>

Hello lovelies! Sorry for bringing this short chapter, I tried to start going through their past lives but witout giving so much details so this don't gets very confusing, if it still is please tell me so I can work on it, what de you think? I'll love to read about it in the comments!

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #40s bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst

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umbrellaleg · 10 months

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I have been blessed with this amazing commission by @rustingcat of Lena!IronMaiden <3 <3 <3 Thank you so much! The detail, the effects!

Ever since reading As Hard As Steel (As Bold As Iron) [warning E] by bandwidthlimit and happypugfics . Lena in Pepper Potts' iron man suit has lived rent-free in my head for years.

#lena luthor #Lena!IronMaiden #supercorp #supergirl

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shurisleftearring · 5 months

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Green Eyes

I am so scared posting this but here it is, my first part (maybe). Any grammar or plot suggestions are welcomed, but please be nice. Not sure if I wanna include smut in this story or not idk. Anyways, thanks for reading, and enjoy! :) (Also how the fuck do I work this damn app? I am so fucking confused it’s sad fr)

But I don’t love you anymore, I’m so insecure, never knew that love did this…

Word count: 1k+

Pairing: Shuri x Black!fem!reader

Summary: Five years. It’s been five years since the blip. And even longer since you’ve been in a relationship. Maybe it’s for the best. The last time you were in a relationship, it just ended in disarray. But, when your ex comes back into your life, can you start over and do it again? Or try to move on with an unexpected love?

______________________________________________________________

“Y/n c’mon, you are slow!”

You were always late. You can never make it to anything on time. That’s what you need to change. You somehow wake up 5 hours before and still end up 10-15 minutes late.

“I’m coming damn, hold up.”

“Girl, I need you to make this on time, the board offered us amazing positions at Stark Industries and WE.CANNOT.BE.LATE.”

At this point you were rushing to get your hair together, your makeup on, and your fit. You had a very boring style, but sometimes you surprised people.

“Is this okay?”

“Girl, it’s fine. Now c’monn”

“Ok ok damn”

______________________________________________________________

By the time you got there, you had one minute left. You used that minute to scope the place out. Can’t even lie, it was beautiful. All of those good-looking drinks, food, people. You were in awe.

“Damn, this place is nice!” You said.

“Girl, I know we're in the big money now!” Kaira said.

You and your close co-worker friend get guided to the huge table in the back. When you see the table everybody is already there. You look around and your heart drops to you stomach. It's her. At first, you had no idea who she was, she had changed so much. She dresses more masculine now, she has sides of her hair cut, and she has on grillz. You are wondering where the hell she knows about those. Back when y'all used to “date”, y'all were both young and didn’t know shit.

“Shit,” you whispered.

“What did you say, girl?” Kaira said.

“Oh nothing”

You were freaking out inside. Lost in your thoughts. Your memories of her. You were so lost in your own head that you didn’t notice that she he saw you too. She almost spat her drink out. She didn’t even recognize you.

“Damn, she's fine. Do you know her Shuri?” Peter said.

“...No,” Shuri said, looking away from your curvaceous body.

“Mm, well I’m going to go over there and introduce myself”

“Don’t you have Mj?”

“Well…she doesn’t remember me. Our love can wait”

Shuri rolled her eyes and they landed on you. She saw how beautiful you became. Your braces were gone and got a skincare routine. She saw how your body grew into its grown woman body. Your thighs, hips, and breasts were just too mesmerizing. She was shamelessly checking you out, not caring who saw. You were trying to look distracted when you accidentally locked eyes with Shuri. Her gaze suddenly made you weak in the knees. You didn’t even notice that you were about to run into a waiter. You ran into the waiter, the gaze broken. She started chuckling, not realizing how powerful her stare was. She guessed that’s how she got all those models so easily. You apologized to the waiter and walked to your seat, trying to get some dignity back.

“Girl, are you ok?” your co-worker friend asked.

“Yeah. I’m good Kaira”

“I swear you always trippin’ somewhere” she said laughing.

You laughed praying that no one saw that. You looked and saw that you were sitting in between Okoye and Kaira. Thank god you weren’t sitting next to her. But, across from her was even worse. Her staring just got more intense by the second. You tried to focus as Pepper Potts-Stark began.

“Well, now that we have everyone here, welcome. I hope we get a lot of things accomplished in these upcoming years, as you know the people are still-”

You were tryna listen, but you could feel her stare lingering on you. It makes your stomach churn and do somersaults.

“-Now, to focus on the positive things, I have decided to hire more people on the personal Avengers team. Welcome y/n and Kaira!”

You and Kaira stood up. Everyone clapped and said welcome. Kaira was eating up the attention thankfully.

“Well, if a pile of paperwork and deadlines to meet is a ‘ welcome’, then I’ll accept it,” Kaira said as people started chuckling.

“Ah, yes, as you can see, the team is very happy to see new people joining, but don’t let them bully you, okay?” Pepper said, winking.

“Oh, trust me I won’t,” You said.

“We’ll see about that sweetness,” Thor said.

You cringed at that. Men being men. The people at the table saw the discomfort on your face.

“Ok, enough guys. They’ve already experienced your ‘warm’ welcome” Shuri said.

“Not Shuri defending them. She must like one of them.” Peter said, drinking his drink.

Chuckles filled the room after he said that. He was honestly right but she was too prideful to accept it.

“Peter do not test me” She looked at Peter and he just drunk his drink and tried to hide his face.

“Ooo Shuri is going to mess him up”

“He's always talking he needs to shut up”

______________________________________________________________

A few hours later, everything was done. You and Kaira signed everything and promised to sign an NDA until your contract expires. Now people were just talking. You didn’t like being in boring places, but that was your life lately. Boring ass places.

“Girl, I am ready to go, I love networking, but damn it sure does make you tired.”

“Amen girl, I'm gonna crash at your place, is that okay?” You said

“Yeah, that’s fine. Also, I saw Her Majesty staring at you. Does she know you?”

You were trying not to show the sudden panic on your face.

“...Not Really…”

“Mhm, yeah ok.”

Kaira knew when you were lying. She knew you like the back of her hand. She always knew when you were sad, angry, happy, and when you were lying.

Y’all were leaving, laughing and chatting about how your first day would go. While walking, you notice a nice vintage 1964 Ferrari 250 GTO. Your mouth was wide open.

“Kaira look!” you said

Kaira looked and her mouth went wide open as well.

“Shit….that’s your dream car!” she squealed.

“I know! It’s so beautiful!”

“Excuse me”

You turned around and were moving out of the way when you saw it was Shuri. Her voice felt like butter, and you could smell her amazing vanilla perfume since she was close.

“Ooooo” Kaira mumbled.

Kaira was never any help. She was a proud instigator.

“Oh- Umm we're sorry, we-”

“It’s all good love, you were just admiring right?”

“Right”

Love. You haven't heard that word in a long time. She said so casually like you were still with her.

But you weren’t.

______________________________________________________________

6-7 years ago

“Sher please? You've known my friends for a while now. You said it yourself you trusted them!"

“Love, no. Besides I don’t like you hanging around Daniel anyways”

You groaned. “Shuri, we don’t like each other”

“You still like men"

You knelt down to her level. “But not that man. I don't like any men, just you” You pressed your lips on hers, her jealousy slowly drifting away. You loved moments like these. Her being putty in your hands.

“Ok fine. You can go. Only, you have to make sure that you call me every hour”

“Oh my God, you are so obsessive”

“It’s called keeping you safe”

“No one knows we're dating. I’ll be fine” You said, kissing her forehead.

“Mhm. Still, I want you to call me”

“Ok my love see you soon~” You went out the door and to one of your best friends arms for a hug.

"You ready to go girl?"

"Yes! I am so excited!"

"I'm surprised that Shuri even let you out"

"Haha, now hurry and let's get to this festival!" You squealed in excitement.

#letitia wright #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #lgbtq

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stonemags · 1 year

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SUGAR BABY AU

Ch.5 Champagne problems

Characters in this series: Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill, Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts, Valkyrie, Shuri

Summary: Keeping your promises can be hard if you are being challenged on them all the time. You try to keep your face straight and enjoy one free evening, but are any of your evenings actually free? What are your actual feelings towards people around you? You can't figure it out if you won't stop to think about it.

Warnings: age gap relationships, sugar mommy/sugar baby relationships, swearing, mensplaning, all story is gonna be +18, you are responsible for your own ass.

Word count: 9612

A/N: I appreciate everyone's patience. I hope you will enjoy this chapter just as much as I do. Thank you for all the comments. It really helps to get a new perspective on things and really motivates me to keep going. Big thanks to my amazing friend, this series wouldn't be here without you @charturnus. And big thanks to my forever judge of the chapters @sweetixsblog!

The flat is just a quick stop for both of you, and it's no surprise it's empty. At this time, everybody is probably already at Carol's house. After this emotional load of today you wish you could stay home, relax, unwind the stress, but promises were made, and you are not someone who breaks them. You tell Kate to take a shower first, and you go to look into Darcy's room for both your costumes. Nicely put dresses take you off guard but as you see just as beautiful a three part set for you with pants you take a breath in. You slowly touch the fabric, taking in the view. Kate will look incredible in hers. It's bigger than you thought but looks so light with the volume of it. The colour is lavender, and it's going to brighten Kate's face so much, the corset is black which is matching to yours, and it's going to be an amazing contrast to her bright look.

“It's beautiful” You turn around at the sound of your friend's voice. She is standing by the door, covered just by the towel waiting for her primer to dry, so she can finish her makeup.

“Yes it is. And you are going to look incredible in it, sweetheart.” You tell her and move to the side to let her see the dress in its all glory.

“I was talking about yours, but I think we both will steal some glances after being so fashionably late.” She puts a tender hand on your shoulder, looking deeply into your eyes, trying to read your emotions of your irises as you are hiding something from her. She had this feeling all day. In moments like those, you are also wondering if you are hiding something from her, or yourself. You put a strand of her hair gently behind her ear so as not to disturb the primer in any way and when you are about to answer, your phone starts to ring. You pick it up, being sure it's Darcy calling to hurry you up, because no texts and no phone calls all day is a weird behaviour for her. Furthermore, you are grateful for the space she gave you and Kate, but it's 9pm, and you probably should head that way already.

“Hey, we are getting ready and…..” You cut mid-sentence, making Kate look at you, quizzingly.

“No I…. Okay I understand but I can't right now. “ You look at her, a few lines appear on your forehead. Your voice sounds distressed and it shakes a little.

“No…. The answer is no, I helped you enough for now.” You start pacing the room. Whoever is on the other side of it is definitely stressing you out, and Kate can see it.

“HOW MUCH?” You didn't mean for it to come out so loud, but it ripped out of you. Right now, you know, Kate has questions. One hand is holding the phone while the second is in your hair, looking like you are going to pull all of it out in a second.

“I'm sending you half of it. I don't have any more right now, and I also have to eat. I'm sorry….. Well, I'm sorry you are disappointed…. Sucks for both of us, I guess.” With that, you hang up a phone and take a breath in. You quickly type something on your phone and as you put it down Kate can see that you are really trying to figure out something, battling with yourself, she just can't figure out what it is about. She slowly closes the distance between you, searching for your eye contact.

“Yn is everything okay?” You smile at her, and Kate hates it. As much as you know her, she learned a thing or two about you too, and this fake demeanour pisses her off.

“Yeah …. Yes, it's just a client of mine not happy with his essay. He is going to pay me less.”

“Oh.” It really didn't seem like it, your reaction was far too strong for some boy to put you off like that. As much as Kate tries to sympathise with you, she never struggled with money, so it really doesn't seem like a big deal for her, for you on the other hand every unplanned loss of money is a big hit. Kate decides to leave the topic and start collecting things to dress up and finish her look, letting you go to take a shower.

“Kate?” She looks at you.

“Can we take your car? I don't have money for a cab right now, and I'm not drinking, so I thought… I'm going to give you gas money back after the pay cheque if you are okay with that.” Kate smiles at you as if you are dumb, but this time in a cute way.

“Mom filled up the tank, so you don't have to give me any money back, and I actually wanted to ask you if you can drive, you are not drinking and being able to leave at any moment we want is a blessing.” This is exactly what you needed to hear, that's how you know it's not true, but you appreciate every moment when your friends are trying to make you feel safe and secure around them. As much as the phone call just added to the mental load, it's something you will have to take care of later, now you don't have time.

It takes both of you an additional 30 minutes to get yourself ready and start driving to the location. You can never get used to the way Carol's house looks like, her main house, you might add. You never thought that you would even have a chance to surround yourself with wealthy people, not talk about being friends with them. As you drive through the gate and park the car in order for both of you space, you take a quick look at the changes in Carol's garden. It's not too overloaded with greenery but the natural bushes creating a path to the entrance is something you fell in love with, the first time you visited her with Darcy. It's a little different at the moment, and you are grateful for that. Added lanterns in the ground help you and Kate find your way on a cold November evening. You hold Kate's arm under yours, soothing her hand to calm down her nerves, or maybe yours, as much as you don't think there is anything you should be stressed about you don't feel at peace. There is a vivid thought about Natasha and Wanda in your head, but you let it go past you as you hear Kate ring the doorbell. You can feel the vibration of music under your feet, it's surprising because to be honest you can barely hear it from outside. As the door opens up you expect Carol to be on the other side of it, you are surprised to be greeted by the waiter, who lets you in by giving each of you a glass of champagne in matching glasses. You always feel bad correcting any workers, you know how it is to be in their place, so you don't say anything. Glass looks amazing in your hand, reflecting all the lights in the room, bright enough to give you a headache at the end of this evening.

“YN! , KATE!” you hear Maria's voice coming from the opened dancing space. She runs to hug you both and just in time you put down the champagne, avoiding any of it landing on your, well not yours but probably expensive clothes.

“You. Both. Look. Incredible.” Maria makes sure to punctuate every single word. She loosely holds yours and Kate's hand in hers. You grab it harder and slowly spin her around.

“Look at you! You look amazing.” She really does, the whole dress up concept suits her so much, she looks like taken straight out of Bridgethones.

As Maria puts her focus on Kate for a second, asking her how she feels and when did you both go, giving her a second glass at the same time, you take your time to drift off away for a second. Carol's interior design feels like visiting a museum in the best sense of it, but this time she has outdone herself. All the details to bring everybody straight into the new world make it all work together with her natural look of the house. The big living room is turned into a dancing floor. A big piano at the side of it gives amazing contrast to the size of this space. Kitchen is opened only for the staff, and you respect that, sitting area have new pillows and added decorations like tones of fresh flowers with almost overwhelming smell and red carpets as a

guide to the bathrooms and balcony for people that want to smoke or just take some fresh air. Even waiters have their own costumes. Most of the work makes live music. It's amazing, and you can't wait to let yourself fall into it, watching the orchestra play relatively new music in a classical way. You are in awe how amazing everything is prepared.

You chose a nice place for yourself a little bit more on the side, halfway to the first floor, where lights are dimmed. High ground is something you enjoy, it opens many more possibilities to observe. Also, you are harder to reach and that gives you the upper hand, literally. Darcy and Carol walk around still talking to some businessmen and other high hierarchy people. You can tell by the way they try to charm their way to Carol's ass, so desperate for her to choose them, that it's funny. You are still worried about Kate, so you follow along with your eyes in red carpet paths to find her in the crowd. She stands at the bar, drinking her, you hope, still second glass of champagne, her eyes are fixated on something, really focused on one space, or person. As you follow her line of sight, you see Maria dancing with an elegant woman who you remember as Pepper. Kate looks almost jealous, and you can't figure out about which one of them. As all your friends are located, you let yourself drown in thoughts about everybody around, who is the most shitty person in the room, who is the drama at the bottom of the stairs about and why the hell someone allowed this dude in sweats even come in here. Just as the thought flew through your mind, you saw a security guard pull the guy outside. You started laughing to yourself about the situation when someone interrupted your peace.

“Would you like something to drink, ma’am?” The waiter asks you politely, and you swear to god you will never get used to people calling you ma’am.

“Non-alcoholic beer please and thank you.” With a nod, he leaves you once again to yourself.

It takes him just a second to bring it back, service is incredible as always at this type of event. You go back to your favourite thing, looking around and as much as you don't care about two redheads, more worried about them annoying you all evening, you can't help but notice them at the edge of the bar. Wanda wears an incredible deep red dress that fully matches the colour of her lips, all her accessories are black though and as you look a little to her right you can see why, right next to her Natasha wears a black suit with red accessories. They are fully matching to each other, and you can't help but smile to yourself. It's nice to see this kind of energy between them. Natasha’s hand leaning on the small of Wanda's back, Wanda's hand reaching, in any moment they are alone, to hold her wife close. They both stand there with a glass of wine, from time to time talking to some important looking man, maybe clients as you assume. You are invested in observing them, probably a little too invested, because you didn't realise that you finished your beer that fast. You look for some place to put it down, but no waiters are around you right now, so you go back to leaning over the smooth, shiny handrail, trying to land your sight back on two women, unfortunately you find their spot empty. Searching through the crowd, you turn right, just to bump into someone standing really close to you. Bump is actually a light choice of words. You fully went into that person just to bounce back, and if it wasn't for their hand catching you, you would surely fall. These two seconds of you almost falling is enough to notice a strong grip on your waist, fingers digging into your skin in a protective manner. To catch some balance, your hand shoots up to grab whoever is in front of you by the side of their jacket with your right hand and the handrail with your left. You pick your head up, and you see Natasha looking down at you, with Wanda on her left side holding you by your shoulder to also prevent you from stumbling back. The woman you went into has this sickening smirk on her face, and you would love to wipe it off, but you promised your friend to be nice, maturity it is.

“I apologise, I didn’t see you there.” You say politely as you move out of their reach, placing your hand from Natasha’s jacket to her chest, pushing lightly to create a comfortable space between you.

“Don't worry, sugar, we got your back.” Words spill out of her smirking lips, as her hands still linger in proximity to your body, and you need to compose yourself for a second. Don't be a bitch, you think to yourself, trying to keep your sarcasm at bay. Maybe honesty will be a good way of dealing with it, so you decide to try it. You clear your throat before speaking, a little too theatrical.

“If you don't mind-’’ you start, but the waiter moves next to you, so you take the chance and put your beer bottle down on his tray, trying not to ruin his balance, before you continue.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead, we don't bite.” This time, Wanda is speaking, and you need to remind yourself to not fall for her warm voice. Her hand did not move from your shoulder, so you decided to gently grab her wrist and physically remove it from yourself. Her skin is soft, softer than you thought, her body is hot which is not surprising with so many people around, and the heating on. As a part of her makeup, she used body mist that smells like roses, and sparkles in the bright lighting of the room. Some of it stays on the tips of your fingers, and you tell yourself to not touch an expensive outfit that you have on, worrying it might ruin it. She gets the idea and actually looks kind of guilty of not letting you go herself after you moved back.

“What's up with the pet names?” They look confused, but you don't mind clarifying. Always willing to go the extra mile if that means that people will leave you alone.

“You saw me… hm… let's see…3 times in your life, you know basically nothing about me, except the things my friends said about me, and for some God knows what reason you feel comfortable enough to call me all kinds of pet names. I just find it weird. What makes you feel so comfortable?” It's funny, the picture in front of you. Two mature, adult and powerful women being taken aback with honesty and putting down boundaries, at least that's what it looks like to you.

“We didn't think you would be against it. Nobody ever was.” Natasha lowered her voice, sounding really confident, which is not fitting for what you read off of her facial expression. Her brows furrowed in confusion and her lips without a smirk, which is not a usual view.

“It's meant to be sweet, heart-warming, and usually it makes beautiful women like yourself feel special.” Wanda adds to her wife's statement, providing a little bit more of their point of view.

“Usually.” You throw under your breath, not being able to catch your bitchiness at bay before your mouth betrays you. Your arms are crossed on your chest, not knowing how to stand or act in front of them. They make you nervous, and you don't enjoy the way your senses are tingling when you are with them. With the goosebumps on your forearms, the muscles on your back tightening, and your fingers twitching, your anxiety is up through the roof.

“Actually, yn, I find it weird that you don't like it. Why does it make you so uncomfortable? You are a beautiful, funny, creative woman, whose company we really enjoy.” Natasha gets a little bit closer to you, her hands lightly trying to reach you, get a chance to touch you again, just being close is all she wants. Pulling any physical reaction out of you gives her information that you yourself are not even aware of. She is really observant of your breathing, how your chest rises when they are close and as careful she tries to be with you, she is sure this is not hatred talking through your body. All of those signs tell her that you crave them, that you are attracted to them. That's what those reactions always meant to them, so it has to mean the same thing, right?

“You see baby, we would love to get to know you a little bit more, but you seem to run away a lot from us. Do we make you nervous?” Wanda is still on your right side, her voice reaches your ear, and you swear to God you can feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up, ugh. Her hand moves smoothly, closer to your arm, the tips of her fingers drawing a pattern on your forearm, leaving a shiny trail behind and as your arm flexes under her touch, you are trying to think of an excuse to move out of their reach.

“No!” You answer her question, probably a little too harshly and too loud. You step back, your body is covered in goosebumps making you feel nervous, cornered and not safe with them. Your arms flex with worry, and you cross them on your chest, informing them that there is a line that you won't allow them to cross. At the same time, your mind is trying to come up with any way to make them feel that you won't let them overpower you, anything to show them that you are not someone to be played with.

“Do I make you nervous, Wanda?” This is the first time you called her by her name, and her eyes widened at the sound, only now realising that she feels much closer to you, than you actually are. It barely happens to her or her wife to feel a connection with people and for both of them to put that much interest in somebody, at the same time. Because of that there is so much need to understand what makes you… well you. The way your friends speak about you, the things they know, and they don't know, and how much of a saint you actually are. This is all Wanda can think about since she saw you at the coffee shop. This is all Natasha is talking about since her wife pointed you out, drinking coffee at a couple of tables next to them, with the most focused look they ever saw on someone. This is not something they are willing to lose, not when it took them so much time to find it. They were on countless dates, dinners, and one-night stands. All girls are similar to each other, most of them not even trying to hide the fact that they are only interested in their money. This doesn't bother them that much, but they decided it's not what they want. The fact is that Natasha and Wanda don't look for a sugar baby, but more of an actual addition to their relationship, someone who will make them feel more whole. Wanda is more patient about getting to know you, trying to make you like them or at least giving them a chance, Natasha on the other hand is impatient, she wants you now, in every way imaginable. Just as Wanda is about to nod at your question, her wife is speaking again, challenging you to reveal what you really think about them, but more in an inflated ego way.

“Please yn, we can see how you act around us, how you squeeze your palms to control yourself, how you shiver when we are close, how you bite your lips at our every compliment.”

“Yes… yes, you are right. I need to bite myself to not be an ass to you. I promised Carol I would try, I squeeze my palms because I wanted to punch you at least 3 times in the last 5 minutes and I shiver because none of you respect any personal space, and it gives me high level anxiety, I would literally rather be in a metal cage in the middle of the ocean surrounded by starved sharks, profoundly bleeding.” Your face shows anger with every line appearing on your forehead, you step closer to Natasha, trying to make her understand that she plays the wrong game here, that you are nervous around them because…. Because they are…. They just….. You are…. Not sure why, and it just hit you. Why would you be, they are not trying to harm you, they are being obnoxious, but that shouldn't make you feel so emotional. This time Wanda is speaking and her voice is so much softer and calmer than Nat's.

“I don’t think you hate us, yn. I think you really want to, but you don't. Let us get to know you, let us show you who we are, and then decide. Give us a chance.” Her hair falls softly on the side of her face, her smile gracefully invites you into her idea, you want to listen to her, and you almost do.

“Exactly, yn, we all know that you would fold for us if we wanted to.” You go straight back to the ground after Natasha's comment. A smirk appears on your face as your eyes meet hers.

“You are so full of yourself. If the whole world is at your feet, then why can’t you find anyone suitable. If you are so confident, why won't you make me fold for you…. Sugar.” With each word, you get closer to her, close enough to look up at her eyes and put a finger at her chest as if it proves your statement. She is a little taller than you, and you look so innocent and sweet from up close. Her jaw is tight, her eyes fixated on you, and she fights with herself not to reach out for you. But Natasha sees more than you are aware of. She sees the way your breath shakes when you lock your eyes with hers. She sees how your body leans to the right when her wife is standing, witnessing the dynamics between you two. Before any of them can react to your comment, Maria comes to your rescue, pushing her way through two women,

“Yn, I need you.” Your friend whines while pulling your arm around her waist. Her face is red, her dress is creased, and she is out of breath. As a good support, you immediately follow her thinking that something happened, leaving two redheads behind, without a second thought. She doesn't ask about what she just witnessed, and you are so grateful for that. You let Maria drag you to the middle of the dance floor, basically making you dance with her because Pepper got tired. You don't blame her, Mia can be a lot sometimes, but that's exactly why you love her, you let music take over and find pleasure in the rhythm as music got a little bit more current style. Lost in having fun with Maria, none of you notice the rest of the group watching you carefully from the resting area. Wanda and Natasha joined Darcy and Carol on the couches, and Pepper brought some drinks over to them. Kate sits close to them but is too shy to attend the conversations. Alcohol is slowly making her loosen up, but it's still not the time.

“Carol-” one of the red heads calls for her, taking her attention off of Darcy on her lap.

“Is there something between Maria and Yn?” Natasha asks boldly, not even trying to hide her motive.

“Actually, I would also like to know.” Pepper chimes in, clearly showing her interest in your friend, she even sounds a little jealous. Darcy opens her mouth to speak but stops herself before it's too late. In this kind of social situation, energy between her and Carol shifts. In public, it's still held in some slow movements and gentle whispers between them, but as the house slowly clears up, only few groups left, they get more and more comfortable with their dynamics. Darcy knows that she should ask permission to speak before talking to her partner's friends, so she waits for her cue. Carol squeezes her thigh and gives her non-verbal permission to answer.

“Yn and Mia were always close, they have known each other a long time now, and sometimes I think they can read each other like a book. There is for sure some sexual attraction between them, but I don't think even they are aware of it. But to answer your question, there is nothing going on between them other than friendship.” Carol takes Darcy's hand into hers, reassuring her that she did good.

“Hm, thank you, sweetheart.” Pepper hums and takes a long sip from her drink, finally taking her eyes off of the dance floor.

“And you-” she stands up, her dress flowing behind her when she does, to add volume to her outfit. She moves to the couch in front of her, occupied just by Kate, and sits beside her closer than socially acceptable. Her arm follows the back of the couch, dangerously close to Kate's face.

“I know you, don't I? I think we met last week at a meeting with Eleanor Bishop.” Kate’s eyes widened at realisation and fear. Her mother doesn't know anything about people around her, and Kate would like it to stay that way.

“I… yes, Eleanor is … my mother, I believe we discussed cooperation between our companies.” How Kate keeps her face straight is a mystery, Pepper definitely intimidates her and after seeing her dancing with Maria and now trying to get to know her, she is at least confused about her own emotions. Today was a hard day for her and wanting to just let loose, mixed with alcohol, gives her enough courage to fall into the casual conversation with a beautiful older woman.

The house is emptying more and more with every minute, it's crazy how many people can fit in here. Everybody falls into light conversions and loosen up after a long party, which is unfortunately a big part of their job. Carol and Darcy are in their own world as usual, Wanda is giggling with her wife about some comment she just said, but when Maria comes back and takes her place next to Pepper and Kate joining in their conversation, Natasha immediately looks for you on the dance floor. You are standing next to the balcony, a few minutes of fresh air can do wonders on your anxiety. It's a cold and bright night. Moon is fully out, brightening up the garden, making it look mysterious and scary, mainly in a good way. A minute to yourself is something you have been praying for since you got here, you know that in just a second you will have to go back and still be fairly active with your friends, despite your exhaustion, so you are trying to enjoy this moment as much as you can. Suddenly, a long shiver goes up from your neck down to the tips of your fingers. You feel a presence behind you and as you turn around, you just wish it wasn't….. Natasha. She approaches you calmly, but there is a strange confidence in each step she takes, each look she sends you, every word she speaks. Because of it, it's harder to read which parts of her are true and which parts are a mask she developed for herself. She is studying your face for a second, taking time to herself to decide her way to approach you, calling out in her head the bullshit of your actions, parts you are not realising are true. She wants to help you with that.

'You are lying to yourself.” You are stunned by her boldness, but you don't speak, allowing her to elaborate on the topic. Your body on the other hand flexes immediately, straightening up you try taking more space, showing her that you are not an easy target, for whatever she is planning against you.

“And about what exactly, Natasha?” You challenge her, that one is obvious, or maybe she challenges you. Either way, you know that all of this is a game to her. She is a predator, and you are a prey, not in this reality you're not. Not in your reality.

“I know you want this y/n, I see you shivering at my touch, I see you looking at me from the other side of the room. The way you looked for me and Wanda in the crowd. I know what you need, and I know what you want. We can give you that, all of it, me and Wanda. You just need to say it, darling.'' She comes closer to you, with each word she tries to lock her eyes with yours to make you truly understand. Her right hand is now lightly touching your left. Her fingers are stroking your palm and her touch is surprisingly soft, delicate, like she is afraid of hurting you while her eyes are saying that, that's exactly what she wants to do. You don't move back, why don't you immediately move back? While you have a second to study her you start to understand that all those words, all she does right now is projecting. She is so afraid of being true with you that she tries to make you believe that her emotions are yours. That has to be the case because you are not attracted to her. Two can play that game.

She comes even closer, with her left hand she holds you around your waist, hand lingering on the small of your back. She doesn't set it down, but you can feel the warmth radiating from it. It travels through you, and you at the top of your head, causing you to shiver. Her perfume is really nice, and it's overwhelming in the best way. It's stronger than Wanda's and so much different than hers, but just as they are together it mixes with each other in perfect harmony, a little bit like them. Her lips are so close to your ear, the intimacy of it makes you weak…. Sick…. It makes you sick. You turn your head to her direction, again being shorter than she at first was annoying to you, but now after her reactions you know how to use it to your advantage, You bring out your innocent eyes, steering up at her makes Natasha grab your waist, and you keep your cool together to not react on that. Her fingers are digging into your skin, her grip, like she is scared you are going to disappear. With the proximity, you both end up with lips inches apart. You smirk lightly when her breath hitches and her eyes shift, they become darker, or maybe it's the lightning in the room, or the moon covered by a cloud, or maybe you just imagined it. Natasha grabs your waist harder, and you put a hand in front of you to stop her, afraid she will try to bring you closer. Your hand lands on her stomach, she is flexed, and it seems like an act all over again. Your left hand is locked with hers, your bodies barely apart, only your palm standing in the way. You can feel two buttons under your fingertips, and her belt at the bottom of your palm, thick leather digs painfully into your skin, so you push at it, causing it to be pushed down. It happens so fast, but you can swear you heard Natasha lightly moan at this action, so you push a little bit harder. She bites her lips hard, and you don't take your eyes off of them as you speak.

"I want..." she focuses more on your voice. Pupils dilated and breath caught in her throat. Only now you start understanding that it's actually you that has all control over the situation. With all her confidence and boldness, in this very moment, you are the one that has control over her. Maybe you judged your friends too harshly on the dynamics of their relationship and this is something you need to put more thoughts in, but for now you need to handle the situation at hand. You repeat yourself.

" I want .... you.... to leave me the fuck alone, and get into your head that I'm not someone you can play with." You saw how her eyes went from lust to shock in a split second. You push her again, getting out of her tight grip on your waist, which you actually might be bruised from, and leave her dumbfounded. It feels like an award.

Shortly after you join them your friend, all of you fall into light conversations between each other, with you actively trying to ignore Natasha and Wanda. They don't make it easy for you, their eyes linger on you too long, too bold for you not to notice, but you won’t give them the pleasure of giving them any reaction. The next rounds of drinks were served and as you try to keep Kate out of taking any more, someone interrupts the conversation of your small circle.

“Hello ladies.” Everybody looked up at a man that decided that the after party is the best moment to shoot his shot with Carol and point her interest at his ideas. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Hi, excuse me, but the party's over and only the closest friends are staying at this moment, I hope you understand. Thank you so much for attending.” Carol is bold, Carol is confident, and Carol doesn't like to repeat herself.

“Well, that's exactly what I hoped to become.” He is not getting the clue, even when it's served to him on a silver platter. Darcy leaned in to inform you that the man standing in front of you is an owner of a StarL industry and his name is Peter Quill. You heard him before at the party, someone called him Lord and you laughed at the commitment to the party. As it turns out, it's a real title that he tries to get people to call him. His company focuses on tech development, and you can help but smell a copycat of Pepper. His outfit doesn't fit into the topic of the party, his hair looks greasy, and the stupid grin on his face makes you sick. He looks like your high school teacher that you truly hated, who was released from his job, due to his inappropriate behaviour towards some of the students.

“What are you ladies talking about?” Still, this man can't get a clue. He seems so desperate for Carol's approval and probably the rest of the “MILF sisterhood of really expensive pants” club, that you are pretty sure he actively chooses to be oblivious.

“Art, music, girly stuff, probably nothing that would interest you.” Wanda is trying once again to tell him off. Her hand is on Natasha's thigh, maybe to feel her close, maybe to comfort her, but the main reason, as you assume by Natasha's body language, is stopping her from taking the case into her own hands.

“That's exactly the thing I love, especially the part about girls.” Well, that was creepy.

“But I know a lot about art and music. Actually-” he continues, and you wish he didn't. “ I saw this incredible painting, right there.” He points to the place above the piano. The painting is framed with a wooden frame, covered in hand made golden little leafs. It's hard to distinguish from so far what it is, but you had a chance to take a close look at it closely, when you entered the house. The painting shows a beautiful view of nature. Big forest is dark with some light falling through the trees creating spots of breaks between the darkness. It's really detailed, so you can't figure out the real looks of it, if you did not study it from up close. Between each tree in the sunless ground, there is a horror looking creature, creeping from the depth of it, looking afraid of the bright spots.

“Oh, do you like it?” Wanda speaks again, taking your focus off the painting.

“Yes, very. It reminds me of Albert Bierstadt. It's so detailed, I could see every leaf and it's so calm and domestic.” You can't help but laugh at his bullshit. Clearly he learned two or three names just to impress somebody and if you had no knowledge whatsoever maybe you would fall for it, but you do, and you call it bullshit.

“What's so funny?” His arms are crossed on his chest, challenging you with his domination. All eyes are on you.

“Bierstadt is a realist, there is nothing realistic about this painting, and please enlighten me what's so domestic about it?” He seems to be caught in a moment. His hands grabbing the side of the couch with unnecessary hard grip.

“What do you think about it, yn?” Natasha moved closer to her wife, embracing her in a side hug, allowing Wanda to rest her head on her shoulder. They are both focused just on you, somewhat like the men disappeared, like everybody disappeared.

“Well-” you start slowly, not really trusting why they are even asking your opinion. “ I really like it, it's an unusual piece.” They take a sip of wine and wait for you to continue.

“At first, yes it might look realistic, but it's really not. It's a nightmarish painting, showing the fear and struggle of staying in light, or maybe escaping it. It might be about the contrast between light and dark, maybe about how you can see what is really there until you actually focus on the darkness, which not a lot of people do. Not only that, but it reminds me more of Beksinski style than any other.” Wanda looks happy, Natasha truly impressed and Carol has this know it all smug on her face.

“Well, Wanda here created this masterpiece and gave it to me when I bought the house. She has talent doesn't she?” The question is pointed at you. Peter left the group in the middle of you talking, before making an even bigger fool of himself.

“Yes… yes she does.” You answer faster than you can think. You don't take your eyes out of Wanda, drowning in her focus on you, feeling pulled in before you can grab anything in reality to stop it. Your compliment makes her really happy, it's rare for her that someone truly gets her, and you…. You seem to do it all the time. She cannot explain this connection she feels, just as she can't stop smiling at you. Her nose is scrunching a little in the cutest way you ever saw. Natasha kisses her on the forehead, enjoying the moment between you too.

“Well, yn is also an artist.” Oh, god, Darcy, why? You wish she hadn't said anything. She always does that, brings your hobbies or any achievements that you have at any possible moment. There is something irritating about it, and at first you had a big problem with that, but with time you understood, and you felt the love she has for you even more. You never got that as a kid, your parents praising you for grades, your art or internships, college, the list goes on. Darcy only wanted you to feel appreciated, and let you see how proud she is of all the things you did in your life, or simply with yourself. Watching you grow as she grows with you was one of the best things that happened to her, and she will happily remind you of it every day.

“Now I need to know more, what do you do yn? Artistic, in life, work, relationships? Tell us something about yourself.” Natasha is pushing, and she knows she is, but it's harder for you to back up when you are surrounded, and she will take her chance, even if it means not playing fair.

“Well, I'm studying language and literature at the university, working as an intern at a publishing company, and I'm having additional shifts at the bar. About artistic stuff, there are a lot of things, but I mainly write poetry.”

“She wants to put her own poetry book at some point.” Says Maria.

“She also writes essays for other students, she goes to the gym, she learns to play an instrument.” Kate adds, and you start feeling like an item on an auction. You appreciate your friends either way, you know they mean good.

“Our yn is a really versatile person.” Darcy can't help but add her thoughts into the praising bucket.

“Oh well, that's a lot yn, I'm surprised you have any free time.” Wanda talks to you in a more calm way, with no judgment, but you can't help but look for it in every statement. That's a little spice added to your personality.

“What about your family? Any siblings?” This topic shifts the conversation in a way you don't enjoy. It feels like interrogation now. You really want to finish this conversation, run, stop them from talking and asking questions, take all the eyes off of you, but you will try to stay on top as long as you can before your anxiety will drown you down.

“I have a brother. My parents are dead.” You answer casually, like talking about the weather, or household duties on Thursday evening. Your voice is similar to a salesman who's been at the same position for the past fifteen years and doesn't know why he is still alive.

“YN! They are not dead!” Darcy always corrects you, and you know that if she were closer to you, your arm would be hurting now. She calls it a gentle jab, but it's never gentle.

“Might as well be. You know, I'm going to go check if they need any help in the kitchen, excuse me.” This has become too much. Air too thick, shoulders too heavy. You can feel each time your lungs are filling up with oxygen, and you feel like you have too much and not enough of it at the same time. You are too aware of your body, feeling a shiver traveling through your skin but never leaving. You are surprised after going to the kitchen to see it empty, but you couldn't be happier.It's after midnight, and the morning shift of Carol’s staff was going to take care of the after party mess. Silence makes you feel free, the lack makes you feel whole. Just for a moment, you can be yourself. It's not that you are not with your friends or around people, it's just… There are so many versions of you, and all of them need some space. You feel like you have been neglecting this one with the lack of time, and anxiety is her way to make you aware of her needs, of your needs. You decide to grab some iced water. Due to the high ceilings, all the cupboards hang higher than usual. It's so irritating, but you don't have a chance of grabbing one of the cups without getting on the kitchen counter. For a second you debate your choice, on the other hand you can go outside and grab your mug, but that would mean coming back to your friends and probably staying there. Climbing is it. You take off your shoes and jump to sit on the kitchen counter to stand on it slowly to look through the cupboards. The first cabinet is empty, the next one is filled with plates and the third with bowls. How many dishes do people need?

“You need some help?” A voice behind you almost makes you fall, you lose your balance, but in the last second you smoothly land on the ground without any harm. Natasha looks at you and her smirk seems to disappear, at least for now.

“Do I look like I need help?”

“Yes… yes, you do.” Son of a-

“Well, I don't, thank you.” You really just want to be left alone, you want some water, some ice, and 5 minutes for yourself.

“Yn… you're going to hurt yourself, let me-'' Natasha tries one more time as you climb the counter again, this time on the right side of the kitchen.

“I-” first one is a beautiful set of tea and teapot, “-got-” second one is filled with plastic containers, “-this. Ha!” Third one is a jackpot. Yes, it has only vine glasses, but at this point you would even drink from a plastic container. You grab one glass by its thin leg and carefully try to get down.

“Okay, I got you.” Natasha is right next to you in two steps, she grabs you by your thigh and waist trying to help you down, and it makes you jolt away. It was just a second, you would have been okay if it wasn't for her, but you slipped and as you try to get any balance your hand holding the glass slams on the counter, breaking it in your palm.

“FUCK!” you harshly bite your lip to not yell, immediately grabbing your injured hand with the free one. Redhead gives you some space as you pace around, but she tries to grab your attention.

“Yn, let me take a look, let me help.” Your hand is bleeding, and it's not a light one either. You stretch your hand in front of you in fear of ruining the clothes you are wearing.

“You’ve helped enough.” You bark at her like all of this is her fault. It is, but it…. Isn’t.

“If you would let me help you nothing would happen, why are you so stubborn. Ugh.” She is stressed and annoyed by your actions, that much you can tell. She doesn’t yell, but her tone is far from soft or tender. You weren't trying to be mean now, you just want to be alone.

“I- “ You are trying to come up with some good comeback, but the pain makes you shift your focus.

“You are doing it to yourself.” With that, Natasha leaves. She just left you alone as you sat down on a cold floor, bleeding from your hand, staining the floor red, which by the way you will have to clean. You can still feel that there is something in your palm, a piece of glass that causes more pain with every move. Okay, get your shit together yn. You tell yourself as you stand up and take a kitchen rug to try and stop the bleeding, carefully putting it around the piece of glass. You need to disinfect it and clean it from glass shards. Carol's wine collection is amazing, beginning at wines, through additional tools and ending on the glass, but when it shatters it's like sand. All of a sudden, doors open with force.

“What happened?” It’s Wanda, Natasha went to get Wanda. You don't know why but the realisation, the fact that she came back makes you…. Feel something. You are glad that it's not anybody else, or everybody at this point, which you assumed would happen after the big noise caused by your fall. Her voice is worried, it takes you back to the evening when you met her and got a nose bleed. It's the same tenderness, the same soft tone you have heard then. The worry on her face makes you feel guilty. You don't like that feeling.

“Natasha made a bet that I won't be able to juggle with 4 wine glasses.” You joke, you always do. It's light, it's making the situation less stressful and less stress means no arguing, shaming or attacking you.

“She didn't let me help and she fell. I tried to take her down from the counter and I think I scared her. It's my fault, I'm sorry yn.” Natasha apologises and you… you don't know how to act. Why is she doing that? Is it because Wanda is here? She also seems worried but mainly scared, her hands don't seem to find their place, she looks at her wife like she is waiting for her to order what to do, to guide her through the next steps. It's new, and you didn't see that dynamic between them before. It’s like Wanda has all the power in here.

“I just slipped, it's nothing.” You are not sure why you protect Natasha, it was her fault, but… you are doing this to yourself. She is also right about that. Maybe you just want to ease her worry, or yourselves, at the end it's the same thing for you.

“Whatever happened, we need to take care of that.” Wanda points at your hand.

“Do you want me to get Darcy for you, hon- yn?” She catches herself halfway of the pet name, and you appreciate her actually listening to you before. You sit on the floor again with your back to the cabinet while your legs are spread to avoid blood landing on your pants. She kneels in front of you, and you shift immediately when she tries to grab your hand. She looks hurt by your actions, and that makes you explain.

“No, no. It's okay, she doesn't have to worry about me more than she is. Also, I still have glass in my hand and I don't want you to get hurt or dirty” Wanda nods in understanding. When it comes to Darcy, she would be here in seconds scolding you about your behaviour, followed by the most caring moments you ever receive from her. Wanda and Natasha bring you over to the staff bathroom. It's connected to the kitchen, so nobody will see you, and you don't want to be seen now. Natasha went to look for first aid while Wanda helped you take off the stained towel. When she comes back, you hear her speak.

“I have bandages and some plaster stitches, so that should work till we are going to get you to the doctor.”

“No! No doctors, thank you, I'm fine.” You try to stand up and run away from them. You know you shouldn't, but you really can't go to the hospital or a doctor.

“Baby it's okay.” Wanda tries to calm you down by tracing patterns on your forearm skin after she rolled your sleeves up. She slightly pushes you down, so you don't get up, scared that you might get injured even more.

“No, you don't get it. Can we just finish it up here, please?” You don't want to argue, you are tired, in pain, with the lack of sleep, and projects to give tomorrow at school. You don't have time or energy for that. Ignoring Wanda, you get up and try to grab bandages from the other redhead.

“Okay yn, sit your ass down, now.” Natasha is demanding, but she is not aggressive. This version of her is much nicer. It scares you less than a smug version of her, the overconfident bullshit version of her. This one feels more real, and more real is safer for you, because you know what to expect. You sit down and hang your head low. Slightly embarrassed, you let them help you.

“ I'm going to take the glass out and clean the wound, okay? Natasha will put some plaster stitches on you and bandage to keep it clean. Are you okay with that?” The pain is worse now, or maybe the adrenaline is wearing off, your eyes are glossy because of it, and you don't want to pick your head up at Wanda, so you nod.

“Yn, why don't you want to go to the doctor? Can you explain?” She asks, while taking pieces of glass with tweezers, her voice is really gentle, scared she might push too hard.

“I can't afford it.” You answer through your clenched teeth.

“What do you mean, you can't-'' You don't let her finish, you're too embarrassed to even speak about it, but this is your reality?

“I don't have health insurance, I can't afford to just go to the hospital, it would ruin me. I already have to pay for school, flat, my m-” You cut yourself off, clearly the rumble gets too fast out of you, it's better to stay quiet, you already said too much. Wanda finishes her part and after rinsing your hand with water, Natasha takes over. She takes your hand into hers and gently starts to put the stitches on you. Fortunately, the cut is not too deep, it should heal on its own.

“I really think a doctor should take a look at this, and your headaches sugar. We could pay for it, that's no problem.” Natasha is gentle with you, and you can forgive the pet name slip this time. You look at your hand as she finishes, thankful for the help they’ve put in. You look at them and straighten your back, tears still lingering at the corners of your eyes, it still hurts, and you can feel it all now. Your red eyes betraying your poker face.

“No, that's absolutely out of the question. I know you just want to help and thank you for what you just did, but I don't need you and I certainly don't need your money. You can't just buy everything.” Your voice is not accusatory this time, it sounds like you are in pain, but not the physical one. Both women in front of you learned a lot about you today, and they seem to put that knowledge into use. It doesn't matter how much they want to take care of you, spoil you, or be close to you, they don't want to cross your boundaries any more, or at least they will try. Natasha wants to try one more time to convince you, but Wanda stops her before she can, and she speaks up.

“We understand, hopefully it will get better soon. Can you please at least let us know tomorrow how you are feeling?”

“Yeah, sure.” You answer, trying to sound casual. Wanda takes her wife's hand and Natasha takes out their card with her free one. She hands it to you, knowing that you probably got rid of the last one she gave you. She is not wrong. They leave the bathroom, giving you some time alone. You throw away all the rubbish from tending your wound and clean the kitchen floor the best you can. You go back to your friends and after answering multiple questions about what happened, you decide with your friends that it's time to go home. They grab their stuff and get into one car. Darcy and Carol are lost in their moments of goodbyes which are always so dramatic, but you hope it will never change. Kate and Maria are half asleep at the back of the car, leaning on each other.

You check your phone seeing multiple messages and missed calls, sighing to yourself you decide to deal with that tomorrow. Cold air eases your mind a bit, and you appreciate the time of the day. It's late, but there is nothing better for you than the world at 2 am.

“Are you sure you can drive?” This time Pepper checks up on you, Wanda and Natasha already left, and from what you've heard Pepper stays at Carols today.

“Yes, I'm sure. It’s okay, don't worry.”

“Take care of yourself, yn.”

“You to Pepper.” You go into the car and take your seat behind the wheel. Darcy opens the door and sits next to you, while her girlfriend knocks lightly at your window to pull it down.

“Text me please when you will be home. Keep her safe for me.” Carol is always so protective over your best friend, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Darcy deserves nothing less.

“Always.” You answer and go straight back home. You have to get up at 6, and you will make the best out of those 4 hours of sleep.

Next chapter

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starker-raving-mads · 3 months

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For You: Part VII

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To say that the next week was hectic was to put it lightly. Peter didn't surface from the lab for anything - Not Aunt May (and her terrible lasagna that Peter loved so dearly), not Ned and MJ, not even for Bucky, who had taken to texting Peter fairly regularly with things like lunch requests or questions about pop culture.

(The man was, hilariously, Steve's opposite in that regard. He still didn't remember much of his time on ice, but he reveled in all of modern technology instead of simply trying to deal with it, which was Steve's approach. He and Peter had partaken in more than one text conversation that ended after 2 hours with, 'Steve's taking my phone because he says I'm becoming a zombie staring at the screen. I think he's just jealous because he doesn't understand modern…anything, really. I think he might be a himbo. Am I using that word right?')

No, Peter instead spent that time with Tony, having the longest, craziest, most wonderful lab binge of his life. His sleep schedule was royally messed up because of it, taking to just falling asleep at his desk or on the couch instead of going back up to the penthouse. He only got a few hours at a time like that anyway and it just didn't seem worth it to put an official pause on their work.

What was their work? Integrating Tony into everything.

He was already fully incorporated into the lab, that was easy enough after the confirmation of the program's success. But they made small tweaks to improve his core functioning systems, defined a few things, and Tony went from almost being Tony Stark to really being Tony Stark. The first day or two, the man had stilled unnaturally in a way that Tony just never had. He'd also not remember certain things, important things, until reminded of them.

"I have a daughter?" he'd asked, overwhelmed awe spread across his face. "I have a daughter!" He looked at Peter then, that same unfamiliar softness in his eyes. "I made you her godfather! Isn't Morgan just amazing?"

"Sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter grimaced at the perplexity on the other man's face. "Since Ms. Potts has been kind of…upset about the whole SI thing, I haven't been allowed to see her." And he'd tried, he really had. He wanted to know the little girl that was half Tony, who was his family in all but blood. But Pepper had responded to every request with a resounding 'no' and she was Morgan's mom, so she got the final say.

Tony had a look of determination on his face at that. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

But all those little issues had been flushed out in the first few days, and now they were working on incorporating his program into everything. Peter already wired him into the Spider-Man suit, tapped him into the tower's network architecture, and into the smart glasses the man had pointed out to him that were, apparently, never finished in the face of the Peter Project.

EDITH, he had called it, but based on all the features she had, Peter was mostly positive it was better that project was never finished. Peter kept the glasses, though, body having an all over shiver the first time he heard Mr. Stark's voice directly in his ear.

Now, they were putting the finishing touches on getting Tony wired into the penthouse, which had its own individual network infrastructure and security protocols. Having Friday helped with a lot of the grunt work, but there were some fine tuning things that Peter had to do to wrap it up.

"There!" he said, leaning back on his haunches as he slid the discreet panel back over the hidden network rack in the living room (carefully hidden behind tall, leafy vegetation he was vaguely sure was called a monster plant). "Okay, Fri-baby, fire it up, let him in."

"Are you sure, Mom?" Friday said, voice warm with humor. "Shouldn't guests knock first?"

"Your father is not a guest, dear," he joked back with her, loving the rapid way she grew with him. He was weirdly proud of her, seeing all these changes in behavior and temperament.

"If you say so."

And then - Tony.

Adding the holographic projection system was another touch Peter had to manually install, like with a drill and everything. It was absolutely worth the time spent crawling around on the ceiling when the man bloomed to life in front of him, craning his neck around to check out the apartment.

"Man, I forgot how bland this place was," he said, eyeing the all-white leather couch and black slate flooring of the sunken living room.

"Bland?" Peter asked, aghast. "This place is great!"

Tony gave him a look. "Kid, I know your taste runs to the science pun t-shirt side of the spectrum, but all black and white isn't exactly that much of a step up from beige."

Peter flushed. "I mean, it's simple but it's nice! And why did you even pick it if you didn't like it?"

"Oh," the older man responded, casually walking around the space. "I didn't. Hired some expensive decorator and told them to go crazy with it." He shrugged. "The lab was always my space, so I didn't really give a damn went on up here as much. Pep was the one to put the art and stuff up - which I see she took."

"Yeah, it was gone by the time I got up here, but not much else thankfully. And I guess that makes sense. The lab just…feels like you, Mr. Stark."

Tony gave him another look. "Kid, you've gotta start calling me Tony. It's cute when you say it, but since I'm essentially a ghost, I think we're past the point of titles."

"I mean," Peter said, struggling not to let all the blood in his body rush to his face at how enflamed he felt at Mr. Stark calling him cute. "If I'm only cute when I say it, I guess I have to keep it up, right, Mr. Stark?" He was falling far short of the playful retort he was going for, mostly because there was too much sincerity in the words.

"Pete, you're cute with or without the 'Mr. Stark' schtick," Tony chuckled casually, as though he wasn't uprooting Peter's entire existence right now.

"O-oh, okay." This was one of those things that made Tony differ from Mr. Stark and Peter had to say, he appreciated it. The openness and honesty, the lack of barrier he could always feel was there before. He wondered how much of it was anxiety and part of the physical pretense of being Tony Stark that made him that way, that he lacked now. Whatever it was, Peter liked it. "So, Tony."

"That's my name, kid," he winked, "don't wear it out."

Peter rolled his eyes. This was the Tony he was used to.

"But seriously," Tony continued, picking their previous conversation back up. "You should redo this place, liven it up a little! Some paint, new furniture, yada yada," he waved a hand around the room. "I've seen your bedroom, not to mention the apartment you shared with May - eclectic is in, and now you've got all the money in the world to make your space your own."

"I hadn't really thought about it like that," Peter said, walking over to where Tony's glowing blue form was. "It just - it feels so weird to change things in your house, you know?"

"Peter, and I say this sincerely," Tony said and yes his tone was playful but sincere nonetheless. "I never cared about how this place looked, it was a matter of convenience. It was a bed and a kitchen and a respectable place to have people over but that's about it. And it's your house now."

Peter furrowed his brow. "But the media center and the blankets and pillows - ?"

"Yeaaaaah," the man dragged out and turned to look over at the TV set up in question. "I may or may not have bought that after you mentioned wanting to binge Star Wars with me when you'd realized I hadn't seen all of them." He shrugged but the casual gesture was ruined by the side-eyed sincerity.

"You bought," Peter started, "an entire TV set up, surround sound, and game console just to watch TV with me?"

"Sure," the man shrugged again and Peter knew for a fact that his whole casual-whatever he was doing was put upon, but he didn't know how to call it out - or if he even wanted to.

What do you say when someone spends a few thousand grand on something because you mentioned it offhand in one conversation?

"Listen, kid," Tony sighed, looking over at him finally. "I told you I was too much and this is what I meant. I do - too much. Extravagant gifts and shit like," he waved his hand at the media center wall, "whole media center set ups and custom blankets without asking." He shrugged, and it was probably the first time Peter had ever seen the man truly awkward, for all that he fidgeted normally. "People've been telling me that my whole life but I just can't ever seem to break the habit." He sounded truly apologetic and that was the moment that Peter snapped.

"Stop," he said, voice firm, face rigid. Tony looked at him, chagrined, like a kid being told off after putting his hand in the cookie jar. "There is nothing wrong with you," Peter continued and watched as the man's glowing blue face snapped up at him in surprise. "Your love language is just gift giving, is all," he explained. "You show people you care by giving them things and I bet it's always things like this," he waved toward the media center. "Things they've mentioned or things you know they'll need or care about. Right?" Tony nodded, eyes wide behind his square framed glasses. "Then, there you go," he said, running out of the confident steam he'd been using for his little mini-rant. "You just want to give people you care about things to make their lives better or things they want or way to enjoy themselves better. There's nothing wrong with that. Sure, it can feel like a little much sometimes due to the expense of such things but at the same time - it's your money, you can afford it, so why not?"

The look on Tony's face clearly said that no one had spelled it out like that before and that he wasn't totally sure if he believed Peter.

Peter smiled, a little sadly. "Tony, if I had thought you were giving me things to make me in debt to you or buy my loyalty or something, I'd have turned them down. But it's obvious you don't, and why would I try and hurt you by being a dick about it?"

Tony cleared his throat. "I gotta say, kid, you're like the first person to not give a damn about it. It's always either people after my money, or people who think I'm trying to buy them with it. It's…refreshing."

"I mean," Peter said while he walked over to the large, squishy chaise side of the couch he liked. "It's not like I don't think about it? It's just - like I didn't grow up with a lot of money, right? And neither did my friends. And so when Ned or someone went out of their way to get me something it really meant a lot. And while you have the ability to probably buy a small country - " Tony laughed, " - that doesn't negate the fact that you put thought and energy into it just like anyone else would."

Tony sat down on the other side of the couch from him, their usual seats, and the normalcy of the action soothed Peter. He was starting to look past the faint blue glow of the other man and just see Tony.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, looking over at him. "I mean that."

"I know you do," Peter smiled softly. He curled in on himself, snuggling into the cushions, wishing he had his movie blanket.

Tony's mind seemed to go the same direction. "Where's that blanket of yours?" he asked, craning his neck to look at the space where the basket of blankets and spare pillows for the living room used to be.

Peter sighed. "It was one of the things Ms. Potts took," he shrugged. "I haven't gotten around to replacing it yet."

The older man frowned. "You should have Friday do it," he finally said. "I didn't buy it, I crafted it out of the same textile I used to make Steve's stuff with." At Peter's look, he explained, "Capcicle has a similar texture issue that you do, senses cranked up a little under yours. Your first Spider-Man suit was made out of an off-shoot of the formula, but the base is perfect for blankets and things." He furrowed his brow, looking away, thinking. "Pepper knew that," he muttered to himself. "Fri? Get on that, will you?"

"You got it, Boss."

"Maybe she had them grab it by accident when she sent people up to get the artwork and stuff?" Peter pondered.

"Yeah, maybe," Tony agreed though he didn't sound convinced. "How about," he said instead of whatever seemed to be on his mind, "you go grab a blanket from somewhere and we watch something. You wouldn't believe how fast my brain runs now," he chuckled. "And I don't really sleep anymore, so being online and zoning out a little would be nice."

Peter smiled and agreed, stopping at the kitchen to pop a bag of microwave popcorn in before heading down the hallway. He paused by his room first before ultimately going to Tony's and grabbing the bundled up comforter. It was just so much softer than the one in the guest room, and it still faintly smelled like the other man. That wasn't too weird right?

Pushing back the anxiety in him that screamed, 'uh yeah it's weird he's going to call you out on it,' Peter walked back out to the living room and dumped it onto the couch. He tried to be casual about it, twisting on his heel to grab the popcorn and pour it into a bowl before coming back to the living room and snuggling down into the blanket.

He tried not to pay attention to the long, long look Tony gave him when the teen asked, "Anything you're in the mood for?"

After a moment, the older man said, "Fuck it, let's watch Star Wars again."

#for you fic #starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker #tony stark #iron man #peter x tony #spiderman

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