#tony “i think a mile a minute” stark | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamneuromain · 9 months

Note

Divorce with either Steve/Andy I'm feeling angsty.

Whether happy/sad ending is up to you :)

Hi bestie <3 I'm sorry it has taken more time than I thought but my drabble turns into a one-shot before I can even realize skjksjskjskjksj

hope you'll enjoy this <3

Lie, Lie, Lie

Steve Rogers x You (Mutant!Reader)

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Divorce, (also asshole-ish Avengers?)

W/C: 5.4 K

Summary: A small leak will sink a great ship. -- Benjamin Franklin

A/N: My first entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.

It starts with a minor, insignificant detail.

Just some static in the phone, really.

A snippet of sound that common people would interpret as bad signals, considering that Steve is phoning you from thousands of miles away, while you are using the landline.

For holy Mary’s sake, who the hell still uses landlines today?

Apparently, the academic conferences you attend do.

Steve notices the small static buzzing the call you are having, after which you grumble in frustration, “Stupid signals, can’t even function properly.”

He smiles, knowing that you can’t see the expression on his face. You are cute even when you are complaining.

You sigh deeply on the other end of the phone, your voice slightly distorted from the electronic, or wireless, transmission, “I miss you, Stevie. Can’t wait to come home.”

“It’ll only be two more days,” Steve reassures you with his soothing timbre, “I’ll be waiting for you at the airport, alright? First thing you’ll see after getting off that plane.”

“Okay.” You know he can hear you pouting, but you pout anyway, “Gotta have some sleep now. I’m going to the keynote tomorrow morning.”

“Take care of yourself.” Steve holding on to his phone, wincing again as the static buzzes again, but it appears only on his end, as you seem unaffected by it, “Take care of my favorite scientist and my favorite girl for me, okay?”

“I am your favorite girl. And you know I have my powers.” You try your best to stifle a large yawn, but Steve senses your tiredness right away.

“Sleep tight, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Steve blows a kiss, hoping that it would travel across oceans and lands via the phone, and reach your forehead.

“Night, Steve.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

You are about to hang up when the static tortures his ear again.

You hang up.

Static isn’t a problem for most people, who, unlike Steve, don’t have super hearing and super memory.

Steve could think that the static is a minor interference, however, static that appears during phone calls are hardly inconsistent. And if he has learned a thing or two during the time that landlines are still fairly popular – 40s, by the way – is that static doesn’t go on and off, nor does it blur on different pronunciations since static should naturally have a pattern.

Since Stark phones issued by the friendly billionaire is certainly off the question, he suspects that someone might be tapping into your landline.

Something is off. His intuition is telling him. So, he called Tony and asked for a favor.

After some analysis that Steve couldn’t fully understand, Tony presses his index finger to his lips tightly, humming to himself.

“Anything?” Steve watched as Tony chugged down the fifth cup of coffee ten minutes ago, and now Tony has been unusually quiet.

Tony spins his chair around, looking thoughtful. He waves his fountain pen in midair, pointing at his screen in general, “This isn’t some sort of prank Bruce asked you to play, is it?”

“Prank? Tony, this is my wife we’re talking about.” Steve is about to lose his patience. He crosses his arm, dead serious, “What is … this? Am I being paranoid or …”

He wouldn’t dare to think about you in actual danger and he’s sitting cozily in Avengers Compound. He could’ve been risking your precious rescue time. Or warn you, somehow.

Even knowing that you have your special powers.

Your mutant powers.

Still, there are hundreds of ways for you to be defenseless.

A collar could suppress all your powers. A shot of the new dose of Mutant Serum could make you lose your X-gene once and for all. And all those terrible things that could happen to you.

Tony scratches his goatee, his expression is puzzled, to say the least, “this static that you provided, looks like the interface Bruce and I were cooking up for a Friday-upgrade.”

“English, please, Tony.”

Tony magnifies the example of static extracted from the recording that is automatically stored on Stark servers, and pulls out a random MRI brain scan from Steve’s health exam last year, “See what I mean?”

Steve watches the two waves on the screen closely, almost stuttering from what he is summarizing, “They look … similar.”

“Exactly.” Tony throws the MRI scan off the screen and points to the static, “This? This isn’t sound. This is human thinking. Hell, thinking, I’m not even sure it’s human. And it has a purpose. The reason you are hearing the ‘static’ – I’ll name that thing later, is that it serves as a relay, that patches you through its – thinking, whatever, and directs your call to Y/N.”

“It isn’t Friday?” Steve blurts out the only AI he could think of.

“If it is Friday, the Nobel committee is handing me the award right this moment.” Tony snorts, but he turns serious as soon as he notices Steve’s worrying look, “but with this fragment, I can locate Y/N,” and with a few taps on the keyboard, a global map appears in front of them.

Tony mutters to himself, “Can’t track the relay itself, but I can … ”

Another few keystrokes and a red dot blip.

“… in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.” Tony isn’t even sure about what the blipping dot shows, “Now this can’t be right-” Tony looks back at Steve, whose eyebrows are tying up like knots, “Where did you say she’s having this academic conference?”

“Leipzig, Germany.” Steve answers without a second thought, “Quantum 2023.”

Tony looks awe-struck.

“I’m sending a team to get her.” Steve stands up from his seat abruptly, heading to the doorway, but Tony’s words make him stop.

“Quantum 2023 is next week, Steve. And it isn’t held in Leipzig.”

“But that’s impossible,” Steve turns on his heels, glaring at Tony, “She told me that she came into contact with some Professor, who invited her to this conference because she was doing so well with her panel back in January.”

“And what’s that panel?”

“CPS Quantum Computer-”

“CPSQ was never held this year.” Tony shakes his head, “The conference was cancelled because a main member of the CPSQ committee passed away last December. What else has she told you?”

“I can’t tell you.” You dare not read his face. Your gaze lands on the marble counter that you and Steve agreed on two years ago, instead of him. You lied. And you know you lied. And the fact that you know that you can tell him nothing, makes you even more scared and frightened, as you are well aware the last things Steve would tolerate are betrayal and infidelity.

Your shared home, once a sanctuary for you and the love of your life, now withering and shaken, cold and gloomy. It no longer is a safe haven for you.

“Did anyone blackmail you with anything?” Steve asks calmly.

He’s prepared for the worst things to come.

He spent the whole night with Tony trying to figure out the so-called “academic conferences” you were supposed to be a part of, and there were eight of them during the last three years.

Some calls were too old to trace, but Tony has figured out it with the recent three conferences, you weren’t doing Keynotes or presenting your results to academia, but in the same spot in the Pacific doing God knows what.

It was undocumented waters. Tony could only gather so much info that the islands in the vicinity were bought by a mysterious wealthy man who paid through his Kaymen Island account.

And you were visiting it almost every four months. Like clockwork.

There were a few heat signatures on the island, but with no visible vehicle, neither ferry nor helicopter in sight, Tony would have to guess that you would need someone who can transport you from where you were to the island.

“No.” You have no excuse. No reasons. No idea what you should say.

But you weren’t blackmailed. You went there voluntarily.

His gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. From the corner of your eyes, you can see he’s looking at you intensely. Trying to figure out whether you are still lying to him.

“Are you cheating?”

The other possible explanation he has thought of. Frightening, if an answer of certainty comes out of your mouth, but it would explain your lies. Steve curls his hand into a fist, the veins on his hand popping briefly onto his skin.

The hands that caressed your hair and your jaw, cradling your face when he leaned in to kiss you. All the gentle moves. Treating you as a soft and delicate being. Now a hard fist on the table.

He didn’t touch you on your way back to your home. Nor did he accept your hugs and kisses at the airport.

He was very disappointed.

“No.” You answer, with your head low.

How could he doubt your relationship? How could he doubt your love for him? Waiting for him to return after every battle, taking care of his wounds, having-

How could he think all of those were lies too?

“Then what are you hiding?”

Steve maintains his best manners not to crush the table under his fist into bits and pieces. He wants you to answer. Something. Tell him why he has been kept in the dark.

Anything.

You open your mouth, but no word comes out.

“I can’t tell you.” You whisper, your resolve of keeping the secret faltering under his piercing gaze. But you can’t tell him.

There’s turmoil in your stomach, wreaking havoc in your guts. You want to throw up when thinking about the truth, but cannot say it. Not with your teeth and tongue. Not with pen and paper. You cannot. You physically cannot.

Nothing remorseful or any expression similar appears on your face, as Steve observes your reaction closely.

“Please, Steve. I promise I’ll tell you, but now is not the time. It was – is an important … deed, to do.”

Steve stands up from his chair slowly.

Not even looking at you anymore, he sounds emotionless. Cold.

“I thought for a moment you were kidnapped. Tortured. Lured into a trap.”

“Steve-”

“I was this close,” he pinches his index finger and thumb together, “sending a full-blown rescue tactical team, to get you out.”

“Steve, please, just listen-”

“And are you talking, Y/N? Are you telling me what I need to hear?” He stands with his back to you, shaking with uncontrollable anger. “The truth, that’s all I want.”

“I can’t-”

“I can’t, either.” He interrupts you. For the entire time you can remember, from his cute and sweet attempts to ask you out on a date, from his chivalry of taking you out and asking you to be his wife, from the start of your happy marriage, he hasn’t once interrupted you when you were talking.

Tears roll down your eyes as you are tongue-tied, unable to utter a sound.

But Steve didn’t see those tears. If he did, he would have some idea that you are truly sorry for what you have done.

Steve stands with his back to you.

“I’ll save us the trouble and ask Tony to wipe our marriage from the system.”

Almost a shriek, your hands and feet are placed in the bottom of the ice pit, “You can’t-! I- You can’t!”

Your sobbing fills the room that was occupied by a dreadful silence. From your husband.

You would never imagine that a lie would go this far.

“Watch me.”

He can’t, not when you are-

Not when you are working on-

Not when you are trying to-

He can’t.

Realization dawns on you that even if you did tell him one thing that you can say to make him stay, he would consider it a lie.

Or an effort you make, trying to be bound to him.

That your trust is broken forever.

With that realization hitting you, he leaves the room.

Five years later, somewhere near Hawaii.

“This is really nice, what you got over here,” Tony comments in honesty, taking a step back to observe the rippling portal gate, “How long has it been put into use?”

Jean, the woman with flaming red hair and a scarf around her shoulders, has an impeccable smile on her face, leading the way as Natasha and Steve boarded the small vehicle up ahead, “Four. We used to transport to and from all over the world with the help of mutants who can create a portal. But as larger machines and construction materials were needed on Krakoa, the very land that you are standing on, our top scientists decided to benefit us all by inventing an instant portal device- Devices, should I say.”

As there are three large portals, each the size of a house, standing next to each other on the founding stones.

“Why are we even here?” Steve murmurs to Natasha, sounding confused, “I thought bargaining was Tony’s specialty…?”

“Smile, Rogers.” Natasha murmurs back, her eyes scanning the tropical island for any anomaly, “It’s a diplomatic event, not a business one.”

“Like a photo Op?”

“Like a peace offering.” Nat lowers her voice as she notices a mutant with bright green hair start the engine of their car, and take the position as their driver, “Krakoa now has the most efficient cancer eradication solution, and if we all behave and act like adults, the world would accept the possibility of the first mutant country. The UN is considering whether to add Krakoa as a new member country as we speak.”

“And if we blew it, WW3?”

“Worse. We will be hanged before we could say ‘assemble’.” Natasha sits straighter when Tony and Jean, the woman with red hair approaches the vehicle, and asks with a louder voice, “Would you mind telling us about the three-day trip planned on Krakoa?”

“Certainly.” With a look from Jean, the green-hair starts the car and drives away from the beach, heading towards a road that leads to the Krakoa city center. “We don’t have anything planned for this evening, so Lorna – our temporary driver - and I will show you around this place in general and escort you to your residence, where you will have dinner with our high council tonight. Tomorrow you’ll visit our university facilities and our most advanced laboratory, with our head scientist Hank. If you would like to visit any place else, feel free to tell us and we’ll try our best to satisfy your demands…”

Their residence is a small building near the city square. After a brief tour of the area, Jean tells them that normally they wouldn’t expect many visitors, so the building, though more well-equipped than most hotels, only resides the three of them, plus Jean for now.

Natasha strides across the room as Tony takes voice notes on his phone.

“… Their technology is at least two decades, if not three, more advanced than our top scientist.” With that as a summary, Tony stuffs his phone in his pocket.

And the room is filled with deafening silence.

“Do you think they cleared this place out when they are expecting us?” Steve sits on the edge of the bed, looking up at Tony and Natasha.

“They are afraid of us, as we are afraid of them.” Natasha says slowly. Not really answering Steve’s question, but hinting at the opinion that she has in mind. Her striding comes to a halt, “The looks we had on our way here? Not all friendly.”

“Too bad we don’t have a mutant as a middleman.” Tony clicks his tongue, moving around his jaw like he has a toothache.

“Tony-” Starts Natasha warningly.

They all know one mutant who helped around in the Avengers a few years ago. They know one mutant was exceptionally close to Steve. Hell, they were even there to witness the wedding of-

“I’m gonna go get some air.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a long exhale, before walking out of the room.

Of Steve and you.

You were not a powerful mutant. But you would be helpful, under a circumstance like this.

But Steve divorced you a few years back.

No one knows why. No one knows any information regarding the terrible divorce that made Steve leave you, leave the States for months.

Except that you were “missing” from time to time.

Natasha sits on the other armchair in the room, looking closely at Tony, and his greying beard. She chooses her words very carefully, “Was she…” Were you cheating back then? On Steve?

Tony shakes his head, “He never told me.”

“But is it possible that…”

“I wanted to believe the other way.” Tony nibbling at his bottom lip. In the end, he looks back at Natasha, the former Russian spy, “But the incident right after she left…”

A breach that erased all of your data, along with the data of three staff within the Avengers Compound, happened a few months after you left the Compound and disappeared. Not only the records of your information, but also calls and texts, almost every trace of your presence was erased completely from both Avengers Compound and the government system as well.

The three staff later identified as mutants. They fled from the compound on the same day of the incident.

No one knew where you were. No CCTV or surveillance camera has recorded your prescence ever since.

It's a shame to admit, but no one bothered to look either.

After all, there were no demands or ransoms asked. And they were too busy saving the world to care for such trivia.

Nothing else was missing.

A few printed photos that Steve kept in his office survived. Printed photos of you and him together. That he had kept in the bottom of his drawer ever since your divorce.

A week later, Krakoa was established, announcing itself as a country and providing shelters for all mutants.

Steve suspected that the two events might be connected somehow, but Krakoa banned anyone who isn’t a mutant from entering the territory and has been moving on the map ever since, refusing any prying eyes.

Steve wanders into the patch of green a few hundred inches away from the hotel, heading towards the beach.

He was painfully reminded of you.

Of your happy times together.

And the determination you showed when you refused to tell him about your affair.

Yes, your affair. Even though you denied it. Steve believes that you were lying to him. About your location, about your everything.

About your lover.

“… come on down little monkey!” A familiar voice ghosting his ears.

A little girl screams at the top of her lungs, before giggling and sitting at the far end of a branch on a tree a few meters away, “But it’s out of power-Hi, Uncle Hank!”

The girl has blonde curly hair, bouncing as she jumps on the thin branch that could snap at any second. Steve is about to sprint to rescue when he hears you.

Your familiar voice.

“Come on, Mommy will catch you.” You clap your hand, your back facing Steve, who is hiding in the bushes. Your arms stretched wide open, urging the little girl to come down.

Urging your daughter to come down from the tree? From a branch seven feet in the air? How are you even encouraging the little girl while she could break her neck is unfathomable to Steve. This is stupid. Reckless. Irresponsible. A total -

“Come on, little monkey.” You clap your hand again, “It won’t be half as fun if I have to come up and get you.”

“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know that the rocket boots will die so soon,” begins a man on your side, apologizing. A thin man with glasses in his 40s. “The battery is supposed to last five hours when I put them on- Oh.”

“Yes.” Steve hears your grumpiness, “Batteries. Hank. My expertise.”

Steve knows your expertise.

Although you studied quantum physics and its application, your interest in Physics derived from your ability to absorb power and power transformation. However, you were not particularly interested in fighting bad guys, that’s why you weren’t on missions as often as he thought you would.

Batteries. You would absorb electricity from it in an instant, even when you are not intentionally doing so.

“Exhibiting her abilities so soon?” Hank gasps in disbelief, raising his head to look at your daughter jumping on that twig, “Normally it would be until their teen years.”

You chuckle, “Missing out on the latest Bio lab, aren’t you? They just published a paper about how mutant parents would cause a higher rate of mutant children, and as a result, their abilities tend to show earlier. Even so,” you kick the sand under your feet, your voice less exciting, “Hers is showing earlier than I did.”

“You showed your ability when you were five, right?”

“Two months till five. But yeah, pretty early. She made the light in our room flick on and off, starting from a month ago.” You make one last attempt at your daughter, who is having her fun with those thick rocket boots on her feet, “Be a sweetheart and come down, alright? Mommy is getting tired and we haven’t had dinner yet.” You plead softly.

“Alright, Mommy.” The little girl answers.

As Steve watches from afar, worrying sick that your daughter would fall from the tree, she spreads her arms and falls from the tree. But like a piece of paper, descending slowly into your arms.

Absorbing gravity to cancel it out. One of your typical moves too. Steve thinks bitterly. No doubt the little girl is your daughter.

Hank offers something as you three walk further from Steve and the bush he’s hiding. Steve didn’t quite catch what he said, but he hears you reply with a certain “Yes”.

Your voice trails away, “But it’ll be fine. Won’t we, little monkey?”

The little girl giggles again.

“Do you want Daddy back, Mommy?” Your daughter Maddie asks abruptly as you take out the storybook before bed.

“I-” It would be a lie, to say that you do not want Steve. But years have gone by and you’ve built your life around Maddie and Krakoa. While you were desperate, wanting him back when you found yourself pregnant with Maddie, the night when he left your house, you knew that the only reason Steve would stick around, which is knowing that you are pregnant. Despite the responsibility he would be burdened with, he would also doubt whether he’s raising some other people’s child, since he already suspects that you were cheating, and your life would be miserable with his indifference.

You remember your panicking and fearing his leave.

Thinking that he can’t leave you, not when you are pregnant, not when you are working on a home and a shelter for your future children, trying to create a safe haven for you and your family.

But he left.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You tuck a strand of her blonde curls behind her ears, gazing into her beautiful cerulean eyes, “I hurt your father really bad when I made the big mistake that we talked about. And he hurt me too. Not that he wanted to, but he left me alone in this world.” You kiss her short chubby hand, placing her hand on your cheek, “We won’t be happy ever again. Because I lied to him. And he will always remember it.”

“Oh.” Maddie sounds disappointed, scrunching her little face together, “But Daddy knows you are doing the right thing, right? Building Kra-Kra-Krakoa and our home?”

She tried a few times to pronounce the word “Krakoa”, making you smile.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” You explain to her with more patience than you can ever imagine, “I have never seen your father ever since.”

“He should!” Your daughter curls herself up into a ball in your arms, nuzzling your soft pyjamas, “He should be proud of you. And what you did. You help build the island, Mommy. Daddy should know. And he will forget your lying.”

Kids. Always thinking everything in the world is so simple. A small grin creeps up your lips.

But in your heart, the bitterness swirls into a dark pit.

Everyone else understood. Other mutants who had a family, who told their partners they will be gone for a while, who lied to their partners that they were needed for a job.

Their partners did. Their partners understood the cruelty of separation and the pain that those mutants cannot utter a word about their whereabouts, or the details of the job. The worst you’ve heard of, aside from yourself as an example, was a huge fight between Lorna and her boyfriend, but in the end, she forgave him after a week, having enough trust for both of them to continue their relationship and got married two years ago.

But no. Not Steve.

Steve, who quickly jumped to the conclusion that there was no need to continue this marriage.

Steve, after leaving word of divorcing you, left. To some shit-eating place in South Africa, for two whole months.

Two months. Two months of prying eyes and prodding questions from the Avengers, which you knew they were being kind and helpful, but you couldn’t stay there. Not when it brought pain and scars to your chest every time you’d see some possession that belonged to him, and cry your eyes out, nearly losing Maddie as a result. Not when they were also suspecting that you cheated on Steve and scolding you lightly, telling you to “speak to Steve and ask for his forgiveness”.

They were his family. Not really yours.

Yours is here.

You kiss her forehead, tucking her in, “I sure hope so. Good night, sweetheart.”

Your smile fades as your mind drifts to the human delegation that is alleged to arrive today.

You asked to be kept out of the loop and out of the trails that the delegation is visiting. You even confirmed with Hank today that you would take these three days off from the lab.

You blocked all relevant information regarding those visitors.

You were raised by this mutant family, by mutants such as Jean and Hank and befriended them, and you had your heart broken in the human world. You don’t want anywhere near humans ever again.

“These are some state-of-the-art devices. I have to say, I’m very impressed.” Tony tilts his head to the side, reading the metrics recorded on the screen in the up-state Bio lab, “This is not quite my expertise though, the project you are operating here.”

Hank magnifies the part Tony is observing onto the huge screen behind them, “We are trying to incorporate human thoughts into robots, but in a wireless form. With a thought-” Hank, the man in glasses, places two stickers onto his head, and a robotic arm on the far end of the lab begins writing “Welcome”, stopping dead when it comes to “O”. Hank shrugs, not even bothered by the failure of the demonstration, “We have a talented specialist that helps with coding, but there are always some interferences with the transmission.”

Natasha clears her throat to gain their attention, “I’m also very impressed with the construction of the island as a whole. A construction this large should take … what, five years and a couple hundred workers?”

“Two and a half, to be precise.” Hank gestures for them to move forward onto the Physics lab, peeling the stickers off his temple, “About three dozen mutants involved. It would be sooner if it weren’t…” As if he suddenly was reminded of something, Hank let out a short “Ah”, and a brief pause, “if it weren’t some … unintentional held-up with one of our finest mutants.” His eyes land on sulking Steve, only for a few seconds.

Hank said it with a proud smile on his face. It didn’t take Steve forever to recognize the man from the beach last night, who gave your daughter, very irresponsibly, Steve might add, rocket boots.

Your daughter’s father is very irresponsible too. Not even showing up when your daughter is in danger. He thinks, clenching his jaw, praying for strength that he would punch that guy in the face if he ever meets him.

Natasha and Tony exchange a glance behind Hank, failing to notice Steve and his stern expressions.

“But it must have been a huge effort, even with three dozen, to keep them silent?” Natasha jokes light-heartedly, “There’s hardly any secret in the Avengers Compound without the full staff knowing it in three days.”

Hank nods politely, holding the door for them to come through, “Well, yes. But as you are well aware, a few of our best mutants are telepathic, meaning they could plant a gag order in our heads,” Hank taps his temple with his knuckle, “We couldn’t speak to anyone else about Krakoa for three years until it’s established. Our mind forbade us to speak of it because of the gag order.”

“Masochists, and they are proud of it,” Natasha whispers to Tony in a rush.

“It is troubling. Misunderstandings and arguments have aroused based on the gag order and its implementation.” Hank walks them through the long hallway from one building to another, “But we agreed it’s for the best at that moment.”

Tony makes a face that isn’t as obvious, but Steve and Natasha could tell that’s his disapproving face.

As Hank opens another door for them, the first thing they see is a little girl playing with her toy car on a tall chair. She slides the car down from a colorful track, and the track would deliver the toy car back to her hands.

“Maddison!” Hank rushes to her side, looking up and down to see whether the girl got hurt, “What are you doing here?”

“Mommy needs to pick up something.” Maddie points at you, cheering, “Look! Mommy Mommy!” She drops her toy car to the ground, and jumps off the tall chair, running to you and hugging your thigh.

Steve stops breathing. Seeing you, well and alive in front of him, with your daughter, in a rosy-pink dress that you bought while dating him a few years back.

You look … the same.

“Get behind me, Maddie.” You tug the little girl on her arm, to have her shielded fully behind your legs. An undetectable shakiness in your voice.

Maddie peeks from behind you. She doesn’t understand where this tension is coming from, but she understands one thing: “Mommy, is that Daddy?” She raises her head and asks.

You hate to lie to your daughter. But you are not going to let her be exposed to Natasha and Tony, and most importantly, Steve.

“Christ. It’s Y/N.” Tony mutters.

“Mommy, he looks exactly like the photo you showed me.” Maddie asks in confusion, pointing towards Steve, “He looks exactly like Daddy?”

“Maddison, not now.” It takes all your willpower not to push them all out of the lab at once, “Hank, would you mind?” You glance icily at Hank, urging him to solve the problem at hand.

“Yes, of course.” Hank starts to head the other way, “I’m sorry, but we’re behind schedule. If you would come with me-”

“No one is coming anywhere until we deal with this,” Tony announces, one hand already on his wristwatch, which you know contains a small plasma canon if he activates it.

“Is she…?” Steve knows the answer to his question before he asks. The hair and the eyes are similar to his, and the nose and lips resemble yours-

“Boys,” Natasha raises her voice, “Let’s be civil, shall we?”

“How old is she?” Steve feels a lump down his throat, “is she-”

“Civil?” You let out a dry laugh, the exact opposite of amused, “Tony Fucking Stark is ready to attack when he pulls out that wristwatch. And Natasha, long time no see, the same goes for your widow bites too. Yeah, I saw the glowing blue under your sleeves. You are trying to take my child away from me in a heartbeat and call yourself civil?”

“Tony, Nat.” Steve speaks.

Two words that bring the two of them away from their weapons.

You pick Maddie up from the ground, having your back to the Avengers, protecting your daughter from their grasp, “Let’s go, Maddie. I am apparently not welcomed here.”

“Y/N!” Steve calls to your back, “Y/N, please!”

Natasha is tempted to step forward and ask you to stay and talk this out, being blocked by Hank.

“I assume it is best that you stay right where you are,” Hank says politely, though his thin body has no intention of moving.

Maddie hugs your neck, laying her head on your shoulders. Her blue eyes focusing on Steve while you walk away.

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magecrafts · 10 months

Text

MENACE

natasha romanoff x reader ; you've never been more helpless. nat likes you best like that.

warnings: nsfw, explicit smut, cnc, unsafe bdsm practices, no aftercare, somnophilia, heavy choking, one single mention of medical kink

RATED E FOR EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT ; 18+

a/n: i think i remember how to do this. cheers.

Natasha Romanoff is grumpy when you meet her (and sporting a week’s worth of insomnia under her eyes and wearing a tee that’s a little too tight, too, but as appealing as both of those are neither endears you as much as her furrowed brow and little frown).

Two weeks later you’re on recon with her, some assignment dropped into your lap an hour before wheels were expected to be up.

“You’re going into the field, rookie,” Stark told you, and, “Romanoff will babysit you, but if you’re as good as your resume claims you shouldn’t need her.”

Recon only. No engagement unless necessary.

The two of you post up in a slimy cave high in the mountains, half a mile above the entrance to a long forgotten mine that may or may not be the newest hideout of one of Stark’s most-wanted. It’s a stupid assignment, Stark could have sent drones, but you reckon he just wants to see how well you do with bullshit assignments, last minute takeoffs, and taking orders.

“Could be fun,” Natasha says, dangling a flask in front of your face.

“Is this a test?”

She smiles.

An hour later you’re tipsy and breaking a protein bar in half to split for dinner.

“I know this is bullshit,” she says, and to her credit she does sound apologetic, “but Tony likes to test people. He wants to see you prove yourself, you know, make it known that you’re as competent as you are on paper.”

You can’t say that’s not fair. This is, after all, no nine-to-five, but, “How am I supposed to prove myself when there’s fuck-all to do?”

Natasha laughs.

An hour later Natasha’s her own stoic version of piss drunk, you’re far worse off, and you’re staring at each other with a vigor that would scare the hell out of you even if she weren’t your immediate supervisor.

But you’ve always liked fear.

You make the first move: you crawl onto her lap, sink down against toned thighs, and tuck in. Her lips are warm, softer than you’re used to, and she doesn’t protest. She licks into your mouth and clamps her hands around your thighs and though you’ve never crossed a boundary like this before, you can’t see yourself ever going back.

Natasha makes the first move next time.

When she asks you out for drinks the week after you return you assume the address she sends you will be a bar.

It’s her apartment.

Bold.

She answers the door in black fatigues and a tank top and takes you right to her bedroom, sinks down on the edge of the California king, and puts you on her lap. She likes you there, where she can reach all of you, where your chest presses up against hers, and your mouth is right there for the taking. She’s gentle until you push your hands through her hair and tell her, “You don’t have to be so nice, you know.”

She’s never gentle after that.

She likes throwing you around, and likes that you can take it, knows it makes your heart flutter and your cheeks flush when she reminds you time and again how much stronger than you she is. On your back is how she likes you best, with your legs spread open and your knees pushed back as close to your chest as they’ll go.

Sometimes she’ll clamp a hand around your throat and dig her nails into the soft skin beneath your jaw until you can’t breath and you’re clawing at her arm and your vision’s starting to go. Sometimes she won’t let go at all, not until you slip away and your body slackens and she’s left fucking a fake cock into your helpless cunt.

You don’t know what she does to you when you’re out cold until she starts to film it.

Filthy fucking videos, those are, full of her laughter and your inability to protest while she does things like stuff her fist into your sloppy hole or perform a full pelvic exam wherein she dons rubber gloves and leaves you gaping around a speculum far longer than any licensed practitioner ever would.

“Look at you,” she’ll say later after she slaps you back to consciousness and queues up her newest video, “you’re so easy to break.”

It’s easier when you come back to with your mouth empty; when she brings you back and you’ve still got your own panties stuffed into your mouth she never lets you pull them out to catch your breath until she’s had her fun holding you down while you struggle to regain your hold on the world.

Sometimes you wake back up on your own while she’s in the middle of things. You either love or hate those times the most, but you’re never sure which.

“...doesn’t matter if you don’t want it,” she’s saying this time, and she’s blurry above you (and there are three of her and three sets of nails carving jagged red lines down your torso, but you know there will only be one of each in a minute or two), “gonna fuck your whore pussy anyway and you’re going—to—take—it.”

“—Nat—”

“Look who’s awake.”

You can hear the smirk in her voice, can see the bright white glare of her cell camera, and you’re sure you look like hell and that she’s going to give you shit for that later, but that’s the least of your worries.

“Stark should fire you,” she says. “Maybe he will once he finds out you’ve been getting your stupid hole stuffed on camera for months. Or maybe he’d like your little videos. Maybe he’d even want a turn with you, huh? Would you like that?”

No, but only because by her rules you're not allowed to think about anyone else like that.

But you can't say that, not unless you want her to go and make it happen. You learned long ago that Natasha Romanoff is nothing if not genuine in her threats.

“Maybe I would,” you say, low and hoarse, and it almost sounds like a growl.

She finds a pressure point and digs in, and, “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me,” she says, and you’re out again.

The next morning you wake up to the sun cutting through the window and warming your bare back, waking with you the memories of the night before and bringing it all to a boil in your belly. You want to relive them. You want her to fuck you again, to stuff you full and flood you with desperation and desire.

She pulls the sheets from your body and flips you onto your back, coasting a hand up your shin as she settles at the foot of the bed.

“Show me your pussy,” she says, soft, mocking, like she’s requesting the easiest thing in the world from the dumbest little thing she’s ever met.

Your knees part, legs falling open without thought, and you can tell the slick between your thighs from the night before is still there.

She lifts her brows and looks.

“You look sloppy,” she says, pulling your lips apart and dragging a nail over your clit. “Let me make it worse.” She slaps you before you have time to think and though it hurts it’s the lingering sting that pulls a cry from your throat. It’s been a while since she’s hit you like this, between the thighs, where the shame hurts worse than anything else.

The next time you see it coming, but you don’t stop her. You don’t even bother to keep your legs from trying to clamp shut when she slaps your cunt for the second time, you just screw your eyes shut and force your legs open again because for that you know she won’t stop until you’re crying and begging her to do something—anything—to get you off.

It takes you a minute to focus up when she’s done, to familiarize yourself with the steady throb between your legs and the warm pressure of Natasha pushing something into you.

She’s kneeling between your legs, hands clamped around your thighs to keep them apart as she lazily fucks into you with a cock as thick as your forearm.

“Look at that,” she says with a little laugh. “Even when you’re looser than a ten-cent hooker I can still find something to stretch you out with.”

And you know she can feel you clenching as she tries to ease out, like you’re pulling her in, and if she were any man she’d be spent in sixty seconds or less, but her stamina knows no bounds and even as your hole gushes with relief she’s still driving into you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagines #marvel imagines #rated: e #natasha #!fic #!darkfic

788 notes · View notes

jackfrombaskinrobbins · 1 year

Text

road trip as a teenage avenger headcanons!

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 1k

request: yes / no

dynamic: avengers x teen!reader (teenage avenger series)

characters: lots ofc but i'd say big emphasis on reader (duh), harley keener, peter parker, miles morales, scott lang, clint barton, bucky barnes, sam wilson, tony stark, happy hogan, natasha romanoff, and bruce banner. more are prob in it but i don't wanna type it all out lol

a/n: y'all i think my pictures are getting more chaotic & tbh i think it's a good thing anyways requests are still open, send in an ask whenever :)

taglist: @nutellani @thecloudedmind

(fill out this form to be on my taglist!)

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it was an annual tradition for the avengers to go on a road trip.

steve always said it was "team bonding". it was honestly kind of fun.

better than the other "team bonding" you did, which mainly consisted of running long distances!!

anyways, they usually would do it soon after you, harley, peter, and miles finished school (also yes im including miles now bc i love him)

tony would come over the intercom while you all were lounging around and tell you to pack your bags.

packing is always a big issue.

let's just say that SOME people are big overpackers...

COUGH scott COUGH

no offense to him but like ppl have had to sit in the trunk before because of him

and he overpacks with stuff that rly doesn’t make sense

like once y’all went to colorado

and he packed snorkeling equipment

and so you were like “scott. seriously?”

and he looked at you with such a serious face

“y/n. what if all the snow melts? then we would be underwater!! i have an extra snorkeling mask too. i was gonna give it to you, but now idk….”

HAHA

bruce overpacks too

but he overpacks in a good way

guys bruce is like the mom on vacation

well him and tony both

you’d think steve would be but he is NOT

like the man doesn’t even wear sunscreen

and then here comes bruce with a tote bag full of snacks

which tony eats half of by the way

smh

the best part of having thor on a trip is that he will ALWAYS pick you up if you’re too tired

like once he had you and peter under both his arms like footballs bc u got tired

and clint was sad bc he was tired too

he tried to get scott to pick him up but scott wasn’t ready and they both fell and they like hit their heads

that was an interesting day

ok so setting the scene again

you, peter, harley, miles, natasha and bruce were in the middle of a very competitive round of uno

like y’all

competitive doesn’t even begin to cover it

anyways you were about to get uno

you put down your card and suddenly

“HEY EVERYBODY” “SHHH you’re being too loud” “ohh sorry HEY EVERYBODY”

you started laughing at the quite obvious blunders of thor and clint in the intercom room

“thor, buddy? you don’t need to be kissing the mic when you speak, alright?”

tony, from another room, always quick with the jabs.

“AH! MY BAD STARK. HAHA! THIS MUST BE BETTER”

natasha just shook her head but you and peter, harley and miles were DYING

“ANYWAYS IT IS ROAD TRIP TIME. EVERYONE PACK UP AND BE IN THE FAMILY ROOM IN TEN MINUTES… what? MY MISTAKE. ONE HOUR. THAT’S RIGHT ONE HOUR.”

with that done, you all got up, groaning.

“uno.” natasha smirked at you, noticing that you only had one card.

“darn it!!!” you said. “well, doesn’t matter now. we have to go anyways.”

“we can always resume it later, y/n :) “

“fine, nat. but i’m going to win this time!! right bruce??”

“well, kid, you know i’m usually on your side, but…”

“aw, come on!!”

ok fast forward.

you were in the family room

aw guys isn’t that cute that they call it a family room

bc ur a family

awwwwww

ok anyway

and here comes scott with his fifty bags

“relax sharpay, we’re not gonna be gone for THAT long”

guys i wanted a cool tony nickname and tbh i just remember vaguely that sharpay had like suitcases on the cover of her movie i never even watched it so i could be wrong but that was my intention

“tony, these are my essentials.”

“scott, why don’t you just shrink that down? like seriously, man.” miles remarked, and you couldn’t help but agree.

“hey, y’know what? that’s a great idea miles!!”

and so he ended up shrinking his luggage

but then he couldn’t find it

oh scott

sigh

anyways tony and happy did a lot of car assignment work

to make sure everyone would get there safely

and your car

was

drum roll please

ok also this was only for the trip there

the trip back would be different

ok the car was

tony, happy, clint and peter

tbh this was not a bad car at all

poor miles and harley were stuck with scott, bucky, sam and steve

natasha and wanda and pietro and thor were the other one

although here’s the issue

guys

tony is a bad driver

but happy didn’t feel like driving

and u were just starting to drive so clint was like “NO WAY do i trust y/n in a car!!!”

that goofy clown fr

so tony was driving

oh and btw y’all were going to the compound

tony told you and you were like

“dude, that’s not a road trip”

and he was like “we’re in the car for more than an hour. it’s a road trip, kid.”

and miles and harley kept texting like theorizing about where u were going

harley said europe

and you were like

harley

anyways ya

so tony is like swerving and speeding everywhere

ok maybe thats dramatic

but happy was holding the little bar

and he was like yelling at tony to slow down

meanwhile clint is just singing along to the music thats BLASTING

and u and peter are ready to accept ur deaths

like u literally texted sam a video of what was happening and he almost called happy to tell him to pull over 😭

sam’s got ur back thats for sure!!

anyways tony pulled into a drive thru

bc he needed coffee

guys hes tony stark he needs stuff like that

and he got u and peter and clint happy meals :D

and clint was so excited like 💀

love him

happy made sure u and peter had ur seatbelts on

he said it was bc he didn’t want to have to explain to midtown why yall didnt come back for the next year 😭

that and “too much paperwork”

smh

anyways tony finally got it together

u and peter decided that he just needed an acoustic song on the radio bc as soon as something more relaxing came on he was a lot better lol

the rest of the drive was pretty alright

i'm gonna do another headcanon set about the avengers actually on vacation but yeah there ya go :)

thats how the road trips work yahoo

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676 notes · View notes

seikkoi · 5 months

Text

ꜱᴜɢᴀʀ | dom!tony stark x sugarbaby!reader ( ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ!ᴀᴜ )

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ [1, 3] | ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

There was nothing that could keep Tony from having exactly what he wanted—and he deserved a little sweetness in his life. All he had to do was keep from ruining you in the process.

content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. non-canon, non-superhero au, sub/dom undertones, slight emotional/verbal manipulation, obsessive + possessive behavior, age gap (reader described as mid-twenties, t.s as mid-forties), mildly dubious consensual situations, explicit mentions of alcohol and drug use, generally not for the light of heart, rough sexual content, reader described as petite word count: 13k for parts 1+2 a/n: two weeks of brainrot later

L.A ended up as sun-kissed and vibrant as rumored, teeming with that felt like three times the people as New York. The plane ride went over smoothly, despite your nerves, although you can’t help criticizing Tony for his carbon footprint. You’re fortunate that the planning aspect is entirely in his hands, from the flight to the hotel. You knew what time to get ready and your destination, and that kept miles of stress away.

Upon reaching the hotel, a grand stone structure adorned with decorative pillars, the potential arrangements for sleeping arrangements loomed over you. The forgotten vulnerability returned, and you walked beside Tony with uneasy legs, hoping your worry was unnecessary.

To your relief, your accommodations are separate. You’re given peace of mind, chastising yourself for thinking the worst as you make the ascent in the elevator. Tony passes you cursory looks, reassuring you and assuming your nerves were travel-related.

In the hallway, Tony excuses himself to attend to some last-minute problems, apologizing and disappearing into his room. You followed suit, groaning against your wooden door as it creaked shut.

No matter how happy you were with Tony, the same thoughts resurfaced time and time again. The whispers in your head that told you the facade would melt away- warning of impending implosion. The memories of the look on his face weeks ago that brought you nearly to tears. To spare yourself the rabbit hole thinking about it would send you in, you decided to sleep it away. The event wasn’t until tomorrow anyway, and your body ached for rest.

You don’t wake till the sun’s long gone, hearing Tony’s knock at your door. A sleepy greeting slips from lips, clad in pajama shorts and tank top. Time and exhaustion fast-tracked your comfort around him, to the point that you don’t think to change when you answer.

Even though you know he’s spent the night running computations and phone calls or whatever it is he does, he looks as refreshed as ever. His three piece suit diminished to just one in that time, leaving him in just a dark button-up and pants—the most unpolished version of Tony you've witnessed you’ve seen, an amusing sight that you commit to memory.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. What do you say to dinner?” His gaze seems to fall anywhere on your petite form but your face for a moment, leaning against the door frame.

“I think everything’s closed by now.” You yawn, already thinking about crawling back into bed. The rumble in your stomach could wait, right?

Behind Tony’s back emerges a shiny bottle of whiskey accompanied by a plastic take-out bag.

“Good thing Cafe Stark is open 24 hours.”

Eventually, you’ll have to build your resolve against his infectious smile, but when combined with the mouth-watering aroma wafting from the bag, the game feels rigged from the start.

You and Tony share a relatively silent meal for once, the small rosewood table in the corner of your room serving as a makeshift dining spot. Mostly because a thousand-year nap still sounded beneficial, speaking through heavy-lidded eyes. Tony, abnormally preoccupied, seldom sets his phone down for more than five minutes at a time. As usual, you don’t truly mind it. Without fail, though, that incessant voice comes back, telling you all sorts of theories.

At some point as you're gathering the empty boxes to toss in the trash, Tony hums in approval before abandoning his phone on the dresser. Before you can ask, the whiskey is brandished by Tony.

You can see past the sunny smile for a moment, catching a glint of worry on his face.

“Everything okay?” The short glasses you bring over make a sharp clink on the aged wood.

Dark amber liquid fills his glass, sliding down his throat in one go. He chuckles at your question, finding it your concern sweet.

“Don’t start worrying about me.” He halts the protest forming on your lips with a kiss, leaning across the table and taking your hands in his.

It’s a potent amnestic, and you forget about all the alarm bells ringing in your ears.

Drunken stories and laughter fill the room for the rest of the night. You both remark here and there that sleep would be wise, yet the hours tick on.

A lull of silence falls between you after Tony finishes roaring at a joke you make about your roommate’s parents. In the hotel’s dim glow, Tony’s eyes look golden. You get lost in them for a time, lying beside him on the cotton sheets.

A few strands of perfectly coiffed hair have fallen out of place, matching his recently wrinkled button-up. There’s never a time you aren’t totally smitten with him, but the whiskey twists into want easily.

“Mind if I ask you something?” Tony looks down at you, leaning back against the headboard with warm and amused eyes.

“Sure, shoot.”

Anything to keep him looking at you like that.

“Your parents, you never talk about them, why?”

Anything but that.

Truthfully, Tony already knew the answer. The first night after he ended up in the bar, he might have done a bit of a background check on you, mostly for his own safety. But also to see what leads a girl like you to a job like that. He wanted to hear it from you, though, and knew by now that nudging you in the right direction worked well enough.

“Not much to talk about really.” The bedsheet drags against your skin when you shift awkwardly. You’re used to this question, and the hate for it only grows with each recurrence.

“Is that so?” He mutters absently, reaching down to twist a strand of your hair between his fingers.

“They died when I was young. Car accident, not much of a story.” You break away from his heated gaze, choosing instead to lay your head against the pillows. At this point, you expect the usual pitiful platitudes people say, something along the lines of I’m so sorry or that’s awful .

“I get it. Mine too. Not that young, though.” Tony adds sympathetically, sliding down onto his side next to you. He’s close enough that you smell the whiskey on his breath, tickling your nose.

“How old were you?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, as Tony seldom shared details about his family. You knew the business he ran was his father’s, and his mother’s name, and that was pretty much it. Most things he seemed to keep private, but you hoped the whiskey would help get you somewhere.

“Twenty-one, while I was in college.” There doesn’t seem to be any hesitancy in his answer, so you feel confident enough to push your luck.

“What were they like?”

“Eh, my father was kind-of an ass, wasn’t much of a loss to the world.” He says it too nonchalantly, throwing you off. You attribute it to the empty bottle.

“I don’t know if I should say sorry or congrats.”

”Either works for me.” Tony laughs, resting an arm on your side. His thumb finds the small patch of exposed skin from your shirt riding up, grazing absentmindedly. It’s distracting as ever, pulling you away from the conversation to focus on his touch.

“At least I had other people, sounds like you’ve just been alone.” He breaks you out of the daydreams you're lost in.

“Wasn’t terrible.” you respond gently, fiddling with a button on his shirt.

“Still, you deserve better.” He watches your eyes drift to the small button, searching for his own resolve. It drove him nearly mad to see you in the exorbitant dresses he buys, but lately something about you dressed down, relaxed, nearly killed him. You look angelic next to him, staring through heavy eyes, clearly in your own little world.

“‘Think I’m doing just fine.” you laugh.

“Hm, maybe.”

He doesn’t disagree completely, but knew you were built for bigger things. A good chunk of his attraction came from knowing how hard you’d worked, a quality he recognized and respected.

Contrary to what news articles say, his intellect and success didn’t come naturally. It was deliberate, hard work to do what he did. Countless hours of studying, research, testing— all to try to mimic a fraction of what his father could do. Since he was a child, Tony was dead set on proving to his father that he could run Stark Industries.

Yet, Howard was never persuaded, and planned on leaving the corporation to one of his lead engineers.

In the end, it didn’t matter anyways. He died before he could sign the paperwork.

Tony saw that same drive and ambition in you, you just needed a little help. And he would make sure it was his.

“Maybe?” you feign offense. The warm hand gracing your side loops to the small of your back.

“Think you just need someone to take care of you.”

“I might be a little too old for that.”

“Not what I meant.”

That pulls you away from his shirt for a moment, meeting his eyes with raised eyebrows.

“What do you mean then?”

The meaning takes too long to dawn on you, and Tony’s resolve feels weaker than ever. Instead of answering you, he goes to kiss you, pulling you close with the hand on your back.

There’s no doubt in his mind that he shouldn’t do this, fearing an inability to be satisfied with just that. That voice is too quiet to pay any attention to, turning the kiss long and passionate. His teeth scrape against your lip, sighing into you when he feels your body relax.

For the first time, he doesn’t wait for your reaction, pushing you onto your back. You feel his hand tighten around your thigh, wrapping your leg to his waist. You’re a worked up mess beneath him soon enough, grabbing at his side to pull him closer. His large biceps rests on either side of your head, fingers entangled in your hair.

Shaky hands reach for the belt on his waist, only to cause Tony to pull away from you completely. He holds both your hands in his, equally dazed and panting. He appears lost in thought for a moment, and you start to worry you made the wrong move.

You don’t have to worry for long, as Tony moves to the end of the bed, pulling you with him and kneeling before you quickly. Hungry lips on your bare thighs leave your head light, fingers already hooked around your shorts.

“Tony, what are you-”

“Taking care of you.” he murmurs as they slip past your ankles.

The hungry gaze washes over your center, catching your breath in your throat. You don’t get the chance to respond—a heavy tongue gracing your folds. Tony moans at the taste of you, reverberating up your spine. He hates that he made himself wait for this—every sound from your mouth worsening the strain in his pants.

Your tensing legs are tossed haphazardly over his shoulders. You expected the same tenderness he always granted to you, but this is entirely different. He grips your hips rigidly, wrapping his lips around your clit and pulling you as close as he could.

His ears focus on each moan, how the pitch in your whines heightened when he sucks hard on the aching bundle of nerves. A large, flat hand across your stomach gets you to lie back, hands flying to the dark locks tickling your thighs.

He’s obviously making up for a perceived loss of time, increasing intensity with every swipe of his tongue, your arousal coating his mouth. It sends your body into overdrive, hands reaching for him, searching for any kind of reprieve.

Tony knows he’ll never get enough when your breath turns low and stuttery, fingers digging into the back of his nape and the hand bruising your hip. You lose sense of what sounds are coming from Tony and which are coming from the mess between your thighs, mixing into a symphony of ecstasy in your ears.

He unlocks a new melody, the addictive sound of your broken, pleading cries calling out his name. He wants to tell you how fucking incredible you sound, but that would require stopping and there’s no chance he was doing that.

You try to tell him to slow down, the arousal in your stomach building faster than you have time to process. It’s a wasted effort, having any attempts at forming full sentences ruined by the tongue lapping at your entrance.

You feel an approving moan shake through your core, thighs growing stickier. He could feel how close you were, hips shuddering in his grasp. He only grips harder in response, holding you still as you jerk against his tongue. Without warning, the tight bundle in your gut reaches its crest, and Tony gets lost in the river of filth that leaves your mouth.

You’re foolish for thinking he’d stop there, but instead his lips return to suck gently on your clit, moaning into you. Just when you think you might pass out from the overstimulation, he pulls away to grace your inner thigh with light kisses.

Tony reclines, captivated by the dazed look on your face and the soft panting of your lips.

You sit up to face him on unsteady arms, your hazy eyes revealing that there's only one thought on your mind— him , just how he needed it.

The earlier worries become ironically useless, as you sleep beside Tony that night.

The next evening’s celebration unfolds on a quiet street, a hidden gem thankfully only hosting around twenty or thirty people. The ambient lights of the quaint club aren’t dim enough for you to ignore how underdressed you are. Envisioning a more formal dinner, you dressed simply in flowy olive dress, while other attendees exuded glamor in fancy suits. Tony of course being no exception, donning a dark gray suit and black shirt. Tony seemed unphased by the music and dancing, walking in and greeting people without pause.

On this particular night, Tony has a singular mission — to keep you in his sight at all times. More accurately, to prevent you from engaging conversation with a select few individuals without his presence. It's not just about showcasing you; it's mostly protective, an attempt to mitigate the risks involved in intertwining you with this side of his life.

Nearly anything seemed worth having you by his side. It’s a good weakness to have, he thinks. He swears it’s because you make him a better person, and though you always laugh it off and tell him he was already great, it’s another thing that gnaws at the back of your mind.

You're introduced to several of the guests, some names vaguely familiar, others entirely new. Natasha Romanoff stands out, her presence seeming to be the most grounded in reality. It becomes apparent that she is another member in this new endeavor of Tony’s. When you ask what she does for a living, she responds with business, and nothing more. Worse, when you ask about the other members, Natasha shoots a cautionary glance at Tony and smoothly redirects the conversation, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

For the most part afterwards, Tony’s mission is a success. He does his best to stay tethered to you, dodging boring conversation after boring conversation. Despite his vigilance, the forces of nature are ineffable, leading you to the bathroom after a few champagne shoots.

He’d only looked away for one second , he swears, but all it took was a moment to lose track of you.

Upon your exit from the restroom, you decide to get ahead of your hangover. You catch the bartender’s attention at the bar instead of finding Tony. As you wait for the glass of water, your eyes scan the room to find him. Instead, a tall rugged blonde man takes over your view, sliding into the seat next to you. You pay him little mind, still scanning for Tony. Piercing blue eyes won’t leave you though, even as you thank the bartender and continue to search for the billionaire.

“What’s a pretty young thing like you doing with an old bastard like Stark?”

His words stop you in place, turning on your heel.

“I’m sorry?”

The smirk on his face is cold, unnerving. You don’t recall meeting him earlier in the night, and you're certain you wouldn’t have forgotten. He shifts in the barstool, facing you as he sips from his glass before laughing dryly.

“Forgive me, you just don’t like the kind of girl Tony normally parades around. Unless merchants of death are your kind of thing. And you’re definitely not the escort type.”

“Excuse me?”

This only humors the man more, and worsens your thoughts.

“What,” he continues once he’s done laughing at the look on your face. “It’s a compliment, really. Tony’s girls normally overdo it with the makeup, it’s a dead giveaway—”

“No, what do you mean ‘merchant of death’?”

“Oh, come on, you—” he responds patronizingly, “Shoot, is this your first night? He might not have told you yet—”

“Told me what ?” You don’t have the energy to explain to this guy that you aren’t getting an hourly pay for this.

There’s too much fun in it for him to drag this out, even though he knows his time alone with you is both costly and limited. He makes the decision to laugh again and down the rest of his glass before answering you.

“Don’t tell me he picked a dumb one. At least Pepper had a brain between her ears?”

“Who’s Pepper?”

The stars are aligning perfectly for him.

“His wife?” he fakes a puzzled expression, making you feel oblivious for not knowing.

As you stand there shocked and confused, your eyes catch Tony walking steadfast towards the bar.

“See, they do this thing, ‘fight, cheat, threaten divorce, make up, repeat’ cycle. It’s amusing most of the time, just shocked to see someone like you in it.”

Across the room, Tony’s blood starts to boil.

He’d caught the look you gave him, a confusion-ridden disgust that he couldn’t place until he saw who you were with. He left whatever suit was yapping his ear off, pushing through the small, crowded space. He can’t do anything but curse himself for being so careless—unfortunately, he’s not fast enough, watching Steve’s mouth open like a floodgate.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Rogers.” He speaks through gritted teeth, fists balled at his sides. He takes over the small space between you two, and over his shoulder you see the blonde man lean back in apparent satisfaction. There’s no point in asking what was said, Tony can guess well enough.

“ What ?” Steve responds, a dramatic shrug of the shoulders follows.

Steve's cold smirk adds insult to injury, leaving Tony torn between the desire to break Steve's jaw and the fear of you never seeing him the same.

The carefully, thoughtful plan he had for you is in disarray, thanks to Steve. You weren’t supposed to know about Pepper for another month, maximum. He planned on taking you to the gallery and telling you, but that chance was robbed from him.

It felt entirely unfair to him, having his dirty laundry thrown at you without any context. To prevent creating a bigger hole, though, he turns back to you. You’d spent the last minute wrapping your head around everything said. You felt almost physically sick, but mostly stupid for ignoring everything sooner. All that security you felt last night? Gone in a flash.

“You have to let me explain this—”

“I want to leave.”

Tony sighs, figuring it wasn’t the worst you could have said, but hates hearing the tone in your voice nonetheless. So, stubbornly and more than pissed, he leads you away from Rogers to the exit, and tries not to think about how you recoil away when his hand graces your back.

He tries speaking to you in the car, to no avail. You're too busy beating yourself up for being so stupid. You had fallen for it, the charm, the gifts, the mystery— it worked brilliantly and earned you nothing but hurt in the end. Just like you feared it would.

A second attempt in the elevator wins him no prizes either.

There’s a third attempt brewing when you reach your floor. You had barely looked at him, and each time it felt like being stabbed. You didn’t see a point in talking about anything, making a beeline for your door. You imagined yourself packing, leaving in the morning and never seeing him again. Go back to the life you were supposed to be living, not this fantasy with him.

It’s not a plan of action you accept happily, and either way you don’t get the chance. The expectant sound of your hotel room door shutting behind you never comes, stopped by Tony’s leather shoe in the wooden frame. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was letting you shut him out. He could read your face the entire way back, seeing your full intent to leave without another word.

“Just go away.” You want to sound angrier, but defeat is the only emotion you muster.

“You’re overreacting.” He declares, voice bouncing in the empty hall.

“Really? Am I?”

You’re shocked when the door is pushed open fully. The space you try to take back by stepping away is overtaken. Tony shuts the door behind him, harsh enough to make you jump a bit.

“You are.” Tony’s hands disappear into his gray suit pockets, looking down at your alarmed frame.

“And you’re married.” Another step back, only for Tony to step forward again.

“Do you see a ring on my finger, hm?”

“That’s not the fucking point.” One more step back, in vain. The feeling of being trapped screams at you, but doesn’t move your body. “What else have you lied about?”

“I have never lied to you.”

That seemed more believable than anything else. The small breadth of space you gain is taken once more. You don’t move again, knowing the wall wasn’t far behind you. It pissed you off even more to see his jaw clenched, staring at you as if you were having some tantrum and not rightfully upset.

“Then who’s Pepper? How many other women are you toying with like little playthings? You’re an arrogant, asshole, liar -” you spat, letting your anger surpass his own.

Tony moves closer, and you end up against the wall regardless of your efforts. You start to tell him off again, a rant cut short by a hand grasping your face, and another pining your wrist to the wall. Your heart quickens, squirming against him.

“You’re starting to offend me, honey.” he says lowly, the warmth of his breath spreading across your face. His dark eyes don’t leave you, and you have a sense this is worse than throwing a drink in someone’s face. He was growing tired of this recurrent debate from you. Many adjectives could be used to describe him—arrogant, hot-headed, selfish, but disloyal wasn’t one— and he considered it a disrespectful thing to insinuate.

“You,” he trails off, thumb shifting down to your throat. “—are the only one. Pepper and I have been done for a long time. Steve knows that.”

“Did she leave after she got tired of you sleeping around?”

‘ Did Steve care to mention how Pepper cheated first? How she threatened to sell me out if I left her? Of course not ’, Tony thinks.

More panicked, harsh words of doubt and inquiry leave you, but they’re quickly shushed by Tony. You know you shouldn’t but you feel a familiar guilt for the disapproval clouding his face. You don’t have the foresight to see that you were right for making them.

“You wanna call me a liar? What exactly have I been dishonest about, huh?” The question is clearly extremely rhetorical.

“If you were just some ‘ plaything ’ to me,” he mocks, the hands on the side of your face tightening, electrifying your skin—not enough to hurt, just enough to keep your eyes on him. “We wouldn’t be here, you should know that.”

“Then why keep it from me?”

You don’t even know how to ask what Steve meant by ‘merchant of death’, and honestly, you don’t think it’s worth making things worse. You hate that it’s this easy for him, hate the conflicting feelings—his touch melting your anger. It’s no help that you didn’t want any of it to be true anyway.

“If I decide you don’t need to know something, you don’t. Simple as that.”

In Tony’s mind, this was for your benefit in the long run, and he doesn’t see a need to explain that. You should just trust him, or atleast you did before Rogers’ opened his big fucking mouth. His anger is mostly placed with the blonde man, but he still expects better from you. He couldn’t have you believing others over him. You’d already expressed doubts about his loyalty before, and he spent a lot of time repairing that.

Leave it to Blondie to ruin it all.

To his dismay, you remain silent. He pictures the inner-workings of your mind, doubting everything he’s done to win your trust. The hand against your throat and arm keeping you in place might not be helping his case, but still they remain. He can’t fathom letting go, not if there’s even a slightest chance you’ll leave.

“That’s applied to almost everything in your life so far.” There’s fear in poking the proverbial bear, yet you do it anyway. There’s too many thoughts battling in your mind, causing the words to nearly catch in your throat.

“What is it you need to believe me—to know that you’re mine?” His voice shifts, remaining stern but turning heavier. He releases your arm, moving to grasp the green fabric at your side.

There was obvious disdain between Tony and the man at the bar, giving you deniability to add to his claims. You started to think it was more likely he knew which buttons to push, to put you at odds with each other. Maybe you were getting entangled in corporate politics you didn’t understand without Tony. This was your mistake, just like before.

The words overheat in your mind, warming your skin and wreaking havoc on your thoughts. Some tell you nothing would change it, that you wanted to give up on this. Others, louder, tell you anything would win you over, that you were looking for any reason not to. The mental gymnastics start anew, but end with the same conclusion.

You want to chastise yourself for how willfully you fell back into his eyes, angry and want-ridden. The confidence you had earlier about leaving becomes a difficult feat to manage, overtaken by every screaming aspect of you that urges you to stay. Tony didn’t know it then, but he got what he wanted regardless of the wrench thrown by Steve— you, right in the palm of his hand.

He expects a genuine answer, one you don’t have. So, in typical fashion, he decides for you.

Tony considers it your fault for what he’s about to do, staring back at him with doe-eyes and flushed skin. Plans are built to be changed anyways—and he clearly needed to send a stronger message.

Without warning, you’re pulled by shoulder the short distance from the wall to the nearby chaise, resting in front of a high mirror. You question Tony, to no reprieve, pushed forward onto your knees. In the reflection, you watch his arm snake around your body, returning a rough hand to your throat, bringing your back flush with his chest- his other hand tight on your hip.

“ Relax ,” he whispers against your ear, and chills run up your spine.

“Tony-” you start, trying to twist in your position to look back at him. It’s a useless effort, large arms easily keeping you place.

“Eyes up,” he instructs, and your attention is directed forwards, meeting his eyes in the reflection.

The olive dress is bunched to your waist, witnessing his hand teasingly graze along your thigh before disappearing under the cascading fabric. It stops there a moment, fingers dancing at the hem of your panties. Desire stirs in you with little prompting, Tony’s lips trailing down your neck nipping gently.

“Don’t you see what I see—how pretty you look, doll?” he stays locked onto you, holding you steady when you jerk against his hand folding behind your underwear. Soft fingers draw slow circles on your clit, pulling a gasp from your mouth. “—why would I need anyone else.”

It’s pure filth, watching your own body react to every movement in the shadowy room, every bite against your heated neck. Tony’s quiet declarations only dampen your mind.

“You’re perfect, ” His voice drops lower, increasing his pace as the hand on your neck grows firm. “—just for me.”

There’s static in the air, surrounding your limbs. The obscene picture in front of him sets every nerve on fire, watching your hands reach for his arm, watching you try so hard to not fall into the obscenity in your ear.

Gravity is indiscriminate, so you fall nonetheless. The heavy fingers tease your wet entrance, only to retract and circle your clit before returning for more. It’s all soft and light, barely as much as you need. You turn desperate before you know it, focused on the flex of his bicep in the mirror with every stroke.

Unfortunately for you, this wasn’t really about pleasure. This was about trust. He needed that, for you to know how consumed he was by you. He’s certain you can feel his hard member pressing into the back of your thighs, a heated, heavy reminder that you were all he wanted. You must know— based on the wetness pooling in his hand and your eyes centered on him.

“All mine .”

You cry out when a finger surpasses your entrance. You watch it be cut off by the hand at your throat, gripping harder to keep your noises at a minimum. There’s no resistance, wet and desperate enough to suck him in completely. The hand bruising your hip rocks you back onto his fingers.

All those questions you had, about Pepper, his work, Steve—they’re gone. Disintegrated in the same heat that coils your stomach. Moving away from Tony’s sickeningly slow ministrations isn’t an option, trapped between his body and his tight hold.

“I should put that rude little mouth to better use.” Tony whispers, free of any reason to hold himself back. You felt undervalued, fine. He’d see to it that’d never happen again. He’d let you hear just how badly he wanted you. He needed that same look in your eye from last night. The one that shined for him and only him.

He doesn’t take the stutter of your frame as a reason to slow down, only a reason to push you over the edge. The finger inside you is joined by a second, curving into you. The lace of panties is soaked through, a dark patch spreading to your thighs. You can’t focus on the mirror any longer, shutting your eyes tightly as you reach your peak—softly rushing through you as Tony’s praises flood into your ear.

He doesn’t let go—large arms wrapping around you until your breath returns to normal. You open your eyes to meet Tony’s lustful eyes reflected back to you.

“Still having doubts?”

Tony’s patience was completely run through, the short fuse sparked to unrepairable levels. Again, he thinks it’s mostly your fault. He had no issue treating you like gold, but he only thought it right that you at least trusted him.

You give a quick shake of the head, panting and watching the hands around you leave. You turn and sit in the chaise facing him, his jaw still clenched.

“Good.” he responds slowly. Eyes rake over you beneath him, with Tony imagining a hundred more ways to have you moaning his name. He finds the willpower not to act on them, instead turning for the door.

“You should rest.” He says before you can find the right words to say, door shutting behind him.

Sleeping proves difficult—thoughts overwhelmed with Tony being a room away. There’s also Pepper and Steve floating around your mind, though never for long. Before you can give way to thinking about it, you inevitably end up catching a glimpse of the mirror in the corner—and everything Tony said plays in vivid sound. Then, an unbearable warmth pools in between your thighs, causing your thoughts to be consumed by him again.

The frustrating cycle repeats for hours.

Finally, you decide you’ve had enough, leaving your suite and winding up in front of Tony’s door. He answers on the third tap of your fingers, clad in tight black briefs. You have enough clarity to keep your eyes from focusing on that, or the exposed sculpted chest.

“Can I come in?” You feel pathetic for the way you ask, but it’s worth it, because he steps aside for you to enter.

You walk across the large room, sitting on the end of the unmade bed. Tony stays in the middle of the room, arms crossed in front of his body, waiting.

“You said I don’t need to know everything but,” you start, only growing more anxious when Tony raises an impatient eyebrow. “Pepper, what happened there? Why have I never heard of her before? At least tell me that.”

Tony sighs, contemplating if the distrust in your eye is worth possibly pushing you away for good. You’d see through any bullshit he tried to sell, not that he would make something up anyway. But, it’s for that reason that he knows he won’t get away with telling a half truth. He decides to take it as a sign that you’re still here, in his room, and that you still didn’t leave.

“We were married, she cheated.” He decides to omit his own revenge cheating. He considered their relationship done at that point anyway, just took him too long to realize.

“So, you’re divorced?”

“Not exactly, it’s complicated.” He sighs again. “But we are not together—in any capacity.”

You want to ask what exactly is complicated about signing a piece of paper, but you leave well enough alone.

“Then why not tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d stay if you knew. Couldn’t risk it.” It’s mostly true.

It comes out soft and heartfelt enough for you to believe it. Besides, so many parts of you didn’t want to be upset with him, for any reason. You didn’t have the will to end things, and you didn’t want to find it either. You stare at the floor, trying to process this new aspect of him. His shadow moves across the floor, coming before you to caress your face.

“You don’t need to worry, doll. “ Tony murmurs, trying to get that last little drop of doubt out of your mind. “You’ll always be mine, and I’ll always take care of you.”

part three

#mcu fanfiction #tony stark x reader #tony stark #avengers fanfiction #seikkoiwrites #tony stark smut #marvel fanfiction #tony stark x you #tw dubious consent #tw dubcon

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huffelpuff210 · 2 months

Text

Fighter Dark Alpha Tony Stark X Dark Alpha Steve Rogers X Dark Alpha Bucky Barnes X Reader

Fighter

Warning:This is a dark fic may contain violence, Noncon, and other dark elements keep in mind all events and characters are fictional you have been warned!

Dark Alpha Steve Rogers, Dark Alpha Bucky Barnes, Dark Alpha Tony Stark

Not: Please to feel free to leave comments.

Summery: In a world where Alpha’s and Beta’s exist one is rare to come by, Omega’s and what happens when they find a rare Omega who has been in hiding.

You walked through the market looking over you’re shoulder every now and again a habit you always seemed to have, You seemed to always on edge and on the lookout, You were an Omega, but you were also on suppressants making sure no Alpha would be able to detect you,

You refused to be dominated by an Alpha you were a fighter,No Alpha or Beta told you what to do, not if You could help it. You’re father and Brothers made sure of that from constant years of abuse, without it known to them they were preparing you for a fight with any sort of Alpha, You’re mother died after giving birth to you you’re father blamed you for killing her and not being an Omega, after running away from home at the age of seventeen, you knew it was only the beginning of you’re fight for survival,

As soon as you learned of the suppressants that existed blocking you’re Omega smell you didn’t hesitate to purchase them, sure they were highly illegal but you refused to become a mate to an Alpha who would decide everything for you, tell you how you are supposed to think, and you’re only purpose is to be bred it wasn’t going to happen not if you were going to help it.

You purchase you’re food from the fruit stand when a smell hit you’re nose, It smelled musky, with a hint of pine, You slowly turn towards the smell and see a man with Dark hair and blue eyes, he had a metal arm, He was looking directly at you smirking, the way he was looking at you sent a shiver up you’re spine,

You could tell he was an Alpha and that terrified you even more,

you casually walk out of the market and make you’re way home, looking over you’re shoulder making sure he didn’t follow you, as far as you could tell he didn’t but the way he was smiling at you was making you very uneasy,

Did he know what you are?

Could he smell past you’re suppressants?

All the questions going through you’re mind were making you more and more anxious, You finally made it to you’re apartment locking all the windows and bolt locking the door, shutting all the curtains you were anxious and nervous you just didn’t like the way the man was staring at you.

Bucky returned home where Steve and Tony were lounging on the couch watching TV,

“Did you get the food?” Tony asked

“No but you two are never going to believe what I stumbled on.” He says

They both look over their shoulder at him, Looking quite puzzled

“An Omega.” Bucky says with a smirk

“That’s impossible Omega’s are rare finding one is like 1% chance.” Tony says

“Well I found one, and she’s on suppressants I could smell her it was there but faint.” Bucky says

“Well if she’s on those drugs I doubt she’s registered.” Tony says

Everyone nods

When you are an Omega you have to register to let the world know of you’re existent so an Alpha can claim you.

“And here I thought Omega’s didn’t exist anymore.” Steve says with a smirk

“Shall we go find our Omega?” Tony asked

Everyone nodded with a smirk

Bucky led them to a run down apartment complex in a bad part of town, They follow him as he pinpoints her apartment on the fire escape, being super-solider enhanced his abilities to smell past everything and smell a further distance. He stops on the third floor where the curtains were closed,

“She’s smart.” Tony says smirking,

They can hear you rustling around in the apartment, You’re heart beating about a mile a minute,

“Something’s got her spooked.” Steve says smirking at Bucky

That night you couldn’t sleep that night, you felt on edge, You could smell that Alpha all night, You arrived at you’re place of work dead tired, You worked for a law firm crunching numbers, you were very smart and good at you’re job, But You just couldn’t seem to get the look of that Alpha out of you’re head, The way he smirked at you, You were seated at you’re desk when You see two Alpha’s walk in,

You keep you’re eyes trained on you’re computer thank goodness you were not a receptionist,

You peek up at them, they looked oddly familiar, One had blonde hair and blue eyes, He had some muscles to him, he was drop dead gorgeous the other man, He had dark hair a goatee and dark eyes, You looked back down just as the blonde looked you’re way, Not wanting anything to do with these Alpha’s. As you continue you’re work Someone knocks on you’re desk. You slowly look up, It was the two Alpha’s

#dark avengers #dark alpha bucky barnes #dark alpha steve rogers x omega reader #dark alpha Tony stark #mcu smut #omega reader #dark marvel

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nicoline1998enilocin · 2 months

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Sunshine

PAIRING | College Student!Young!Tony Stark x College Student!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.3K

SUMMARY | Since the moment you first ran into the most handsome guy on Campus - Tony Stark - you haven't been able to get him out of your head. When he asks you out on a date, you agree, although the nerves are growing the closer it gets. When it is finally time for your date, you realize there is nothing to be nervous about, because he will do everything in his power to make it unforgettable.

RATING | General (G)

WARNINGS/TAGS | First date, Natasha being an amazing friend

A/N | Welcome back to yet another addition to this amazing love story! I decided to take a peek at what the lives of Sunshine and Tony were like before they got together, so here you all go! 🥰 💙 I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading and helping me bring this fic to the next level with your ideas because it turned out adorable and amazing because of them 💙

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | Photo: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist

It has been three weeks since you transferred colleges and just over two since you talked to the most amazing, kind, and handsome man on Campus - Tony Stark. Although you share every class, neither of you has dared to say anything, only stealing glances occasionally.

That is precisely what Natasha—your roommate and friend—has been trying to get you to talk about, but without luck. Today is no exception, seeing as you both work at the Campus bookstore for the closing shift, and she has made it her mission to finally get you to talk about your crush.

"Why won't you just tell me what's happening between you two?! A few days ago, you declared you had met the love of your life, and now you won't talk about him? Something must be up; I can feel it," Natasha says as she leans on the counter with her elbows, eyes narrowed as she looks at you, stocking some books and stationery.

"Because, Nat, there isn't anything to tell! Besides the moment we shared in the coffee shop, he hadn't said a single word to me. I'm sure he's always like that to every woman he meets, and it's okay. I was wrong, so let's move on," you sigh as you flatten another box.

However, Natasha doesn't get the time to respond because as soon as she opens her mouth, the bell above the door dings, pulling your attention to the trio walking through it. A small gasp leaves your lips as you see who it is, and you can feel the burning sensation creeping over your cheeks as the two of you meet each other's gaze.

Tony Stark is at the bookstore where you work. Of course, he is.

"What can I help you three with? Or are you too busy staring at her to remember what you came here for?" Natasha quips with a quirked brow, and Tony quickly looks away, a color reminiscent of a firetruck spreading over his cheeks.

If he were honest, he would say he completely forgot what he came in here to do when he saw you. The fabric of your playsuit has every beautiful inch of your tattoos on display - which Tony realizes you have a lot of. Both your legs and arms are covered in intricate and colorful traces of ink, and all he wants is to run his hands over them.

"I—uhm..." is all he can say as he finally tears his eyes away from you and looks at Natasha as he tries to remember. With you this close to him, it's hard to think straight. You make his mind go a mile a minute, and his heartbeat goes faster than he has ever felt before.

Clint nudges Tony against the shoulder, and he momentarily loses his balance, making you chuckle as you look at him, trying to find his footing again. The sound is like music to Tony's ears; if he can, he wants to hear it repeatedly for the rest of his life.

"I want to buy a book!" he blurts out, the blush on his cheeks only deepening as it spreads to his neck. He wishes the ground would split and swallow him whole after saying that. He's in a bookstore. Of course, he wants to buy a book.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock," Bruce jokes as he shakes his head while laughing loud together with Clint, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips at the comment.

"Hey! Pick on someone your own size!" Tony mumbles as he looks down at the smallest person in their friend group. When the laughter has died down, you immediately feel less nervous and decide to help him out of his awkward situation.

"Are you looking for anything specific? Or did you want to browse for a bit?" you ask him, your voice smooth like velvet as it reaches his ears. It was as if a thousand angels were singing, and he knew he wanted to hear it every second of every day.

"Uhm... Just browsing..." he tells you in a shy voice almost as soft as a whisper, but you're close enough to hear him. As you get out of the way, all three boys quickly pass behind you, and Tony has to try his hardest not to grab you right then and there and run out of the store together. Not that you would be opposed to that, though.

When they're out of earshot, you let out a deep sigh, and Natasha shoots you a knowing look, but you wave it off. Nothing happened, and you would surely not talk about them barging in like that. Because that would mean you would have to admit there's possibly something between the two of you, and you're not sure you can handle that just yet.

It didn't take long for them to find some books and pay for them, but you were in the back when they did, meaning you didn't see them leave. This left both Tony and yourself a bit heartbroken. He wanted to see you again before leaving, but that wasn't in the cards this time.

After that, the rest of your shift appeared to fly by, and it was finally time to leave around 10 PM. Even though the store is usually open until 9, there is always a lot of cleaning up to do, but with Nat, you are always done soon, letting out a sigh of relief when you close the front door behind you, ready to lock it up for the day.

"Y/N?" a voice suddenly asks, and you jump at the mention of your name. When you turn around, you see it's just Tony, and you instantly feel at ease at the sight of him. Nat winks at you before quickly locking the door and walking to the corner of the street to wait for you, but giving you some privacy at the same time.

"Tony, hi," you say, and you can see a smile tug on the corners of his lips. He has a natural handsomeness over him, combined with a boyish charm that has your heart beating faster each time you look at him.

"I was... well... I was waiting to ask you something," he says as he rubs his hand over the nape of his neck, trying to find the courage to ask you the question that has been on his lips from the moment he saw you in the bookstore today.

You look at him curiously but openly, so he decides to shoot his shot. The worst he can hear is no, after all.

"Did you, maybe—only if you want—go on a date with me?" Tony's deep red blush is back, and it only enhances his boyish physique, making him look adorable and irresistible.

With every last bit of courage you can muster up, try to sound as confident as possible as you accept his offer. With a huge smile and a thank you, he goes to his dorm after saying he'll text you about the details. As much as he'd like to stay, he knows he has to go and make it the best date ever, needing to make it perfect for you. He wants to leave a lasting impression, after all.

It's Saturday morning, and you're preparing for your date with Tony. He has offered to take you on a picnic in a nearby park, and it is the perfect summer weather to do just that. He has told you he will ensure everything is there and pick you up at your dorm room.

"Is it normal that I'm nervous? I mean, I haven't been on a date with someone in quite a while, and I'm a little afraid I've gotten into things too soon," you sigh to Nat as she straightens your hair. Your dress is hanging in your closet, and you're also putting on some light makeup.

"Of course, it's normal. What do you think?! I would honestly be worried if you weren't nervous! You two are perfect for each other," she says, and you can feel the warmth spread over your cheeks again. You cast your eyes down, hoping she won't notice, but after these few weeks of living together, she has learned your body language pretty well.

"You're going to be okay, I promise. And if not, I'm only a phone call away," she tells you, and you nod. You know Natasha is there for you no matter what, and you are fortunate to have her as your roommate and friend.

Tony offered to pick you up at noon, and he is nothing if not punctual - Howard and Maria have raised him to be a true gentleman, after all - and right at the crack of noon, you hear knocks on the door as you fasten the last buckle on your sandals, which adds the finishing touch to your outfit.

"Coming!" you yell before walking to the front door. You take a deep breath before opening the door and being met by a bouquet of red roses, which Tony had picked out by hand to ensure it would be the perfect one.

"Hi," you say nervously as you take in Tony's appearance, from his messy curls to his outfit and from the roses to the slight smile on his lips.

"Wow..." is all he manages to say as he looks at you, the yellow fabric of your sundress complementing your skin beautifully.

"Did you want to come in?" you ask to break the silence, and he nods before following you into your dorm so you can get a vase for the flowers.

"I-I got these for you," Tony tells you shyly, making your heart flutter when you take them from him, your fingers touching when you do. A deep blush on both of your faces has the two of you laughing, and you realize there's no reason to be nervous.

"Thank you so much; they're beautiful," you tell him, more confidence showing through your voice now. It doesn't take long for the flowers to be standing in their vase, perched beautifully on your desk, brightening up the space.

After that, you say goodbye to Natasha before walking out the door and on your way to the park, where your date will officially begin. Luckily, it is only a short walk over there, and Tony has prepared everything from the food to a big picnic blanket and your favorite drinks.

The conversation is light, but it feels natural to talk to him. He makes silly jokes that have you laughing constantly, and he makes you feel at home instantly. When the two of you have settled on the blanket, the conversation keeps flowing naturally, and eventually, the topic of his parents comes up.

"So, what are your parents like? I can only imagine they must be lovely if you are even the slightest bit like them," you tell Tony as you pop a strawberry in your mouth. That deep blush you have been craving more of is there again, and it makes you want to kiss it so you can feel his soft, warm skin under your lips.

"They're amazing, Sunshine! They're very open-minded and funny but also strict when necessary. Honestly, they're the sweetest people I've ever met, and I am lucky to have them as my parents," Tony says, but you haven't heard anything after 'Sunshine.'

The word keeps bouncing through your head, and you like the sound of it. As Tony keeps talking, you listen intently to what he says while slowly inching your hand towards his until your pinkies touch. The second he notices, he hooks his in yours, holding it sweetly as he stumbles slightly over his words.

You enjoy the way something simple as holding each other's pinky can get him like that, and it warms your heart. During the rest of your date, you two slowly move towards one another until your thighs are touching, your fingers are intertwined, and your head rests on his shoulder.

"Y'know, I liked it when you called me Sunshine earlier," you tell him in a bold moment, and a broad smile spreads on his cheeks.

"I'm glad because I was hoping I could keep calling you that. It suits you because you seem to bring the sun into everyone's lives. I know you did it with me," he says, and you lift your head to meet his gaze.

Before you can even think about what's happening, Tony has lifted his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking gently over your cheekbone as he closes his eyes and leans in. You feel your lips ghosting over his, touching very gently, until...

"Oh my god! Why does this always happen to me?!" Tony groans as he pulls away. Your would-be first kiss is interrupted by his phone ringing loudly, scaring both of you. As soon as you pull away, Tony grabs his phone out of his pocket, only to see it's Clint calling.

"Oh, shit! I promised to help him study at 5, but I completely forgot!" Tony says apologetically, and even though you're sad he has to go, you also understand it's for a good cause. However, that doesn't mean you won't have a stern conversation with Clint, but that's for another moment.

Fifteen minutes later, you're standing in front of your dorm again, and Tony is looking at you with his deep, chocolate-brown eyes that have you melting at the sight. The sun has kissed his skin beautifully, and you're very fortunate to have spent the afternoon with him.

"So... Did you maybe want to continue this date at another time? Without interruptions next time?" Tony asks with a quirked brow. His hands are on your waist, your hands on his biceps, and you look up at him.

"I'd love nothing more, Tony," you tell him before standing on your tiptoes and kissing softly on the corner of his mouth to give him a small taste of what the two of you missed out on earlier. And with that, it'll be your last goodbye for now, but it also promises everything to come in the future, which will hopefully be a long one with Tony by your side.

#tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagine #tony stark x female!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark fluff #young tony stark #young tony stark fanfiction #young tony stark fanfic #young tony stark one shot #young tony stark imagine #young tony stark x female reader #young tony stark x reader #young tony stark x y/n #young tony stark fluff

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rainydayfix · 1 year

Text

Jealous?

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: Steve was never a jealous partner. He knows you can take care of yourself. But when someone gets too close for comfort, maybe it's time to finally step in.

warnings: 18+ content (MINORS DNI!!!), smut, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, a shade of possessiveness but consensual and rough

word count: 1.2k

Notes: Please do not copy, steal, etc. My ask box is currently open if you want to send fic ideas / imagines / etc.

You and Steve always entered the loft together. And left together. Somewhere along the way, you’d lose each other since Tony threw the most lavish parties, sometimes for no reason than he could. Steve’s arm wrapped around your waist comforted you until it slipped away as the both of you were pulled in different directions.

Seconds became minutes, that became an hour or two at most. One thing that Steve loved most about you was your ability to make friends everywhere. You had a warmth for conversation that other people seemed latch onto you. The party was full of familiar faces and not-so-familiar ones.

This night, in particular, you could read the guy a million miles away. You had seen him come in with a couple of buddies reeking of entrepreneurial desperation. He was young, overconfident to be at an Avengers party; eager to maybe land some deals with Stark Industries, or just get a few flashing selfies with the crew themselves, anything to boost his influencer profile. He wasn’t exactly annoying, but there was something about him you couldn’t shake off – you talked with friends, he tried to “nice guy” his way into the group; you went to refill your drink, he was there thinking he could give you a helping hand.

You didn’t need to be rescued. At the most, he was helplessly flirtatious, but harmless, increasingly annoying, and way out of his league. But as you stood by the billiard table, and he tried to slip his hand on the table, and graze your elbow, you’d never seen the look of shock like he did and his flailing escape out of the living area. You turned to see Steve, bearing a scowl, his hand on his hip, not needing to say a word to make the guy practically run for his life.

Steve’s arm wrapped around your waist, and he stood, nonchalantly with a glass in his hand. “I can take care of myself,” you said, still comforted by the presence of someone you loved instead of someone just looking to take advantage of the evening.

“Yes, you can,” He said, grazing his lips towards you neck. You both stood for a moment – looking towards the party, the music of the loft pulsing, conversation flowing, time seeming to slow down.

“Jealousy looks good on you,” you quipped.

That got his attention. One of the last things Steve honestly liked to be called was jealous – to him it instantly translated into a cuckold, a misogynist, a white bro who liked to treat his women like property. Steve was absolutely none of the above. But still, this was another side of him you hadn’t seen before.

“What – I’m not jealous. But some guys just don’t know when to quit,” he said sternly, reaffirming his arm around your waist.

“He grazed my elbow,” you reassured, slowly twisting out of his hold and nearly standing toe-to-toe with him.

“That’s not what it appeared from where I was standing,” he affirmed, a blush of a red bellowing up out of his neck collar and towards his cheeks. You took note of the deep inhale he tried to hide as well – another side of Steve he never showed before – he could get heated when unprovoked.

“Really?”

Steady silence engulfed the air around you both of things left unsaid. He tried his hardest not to bring your personal relationship into battle or team meetings. When you stepped out into any mission, he was there, yes, but not hovering, not watching with an eagle’s eye over your every move, not making it seem like anyone had to ask permission to be within a ten foot radius. When you got home, behind closed doors, he doted on you, yes – to help you with bruises and try to heal scars. He was soft and protective because he knew you didn’t have the same regenerating powers as he did. But still,he never treated you like you were his.

But this - this was different. This was someone trying to get close to his partner, and it wasn’t on the battlefield, and that’s when it seemed Steve could be at his most dangerous. Steve being there for you as back-up, as a shield from fuckboys, as someone who really watched over you when you least expected it, creating a little heat between your thighs.

“That’s a shame,” you hinted. Steve’s eyebrows rose quizzically. “You didn’t hear what I said?” Steve’s mouth opened to respond but nothing came out. You removed his glass of an old fashioned out of his hand. “Jealousy looks good on you,” you repeated, taking a swig of his drink and walking away.

You didn’t walk away with the intention of finding that guy you had been talking to, but you damn sure wanted to give the impression that it might. It wasn’t long down the hallway, as you grazed your head to the side, placing the glass down on an end table and catching saw Steve following firmly behind you. He pulled you into his arms, fumbling for the nearest guest room door and shoving you both inside. Your arms and lips were all over each other, his moreso, as he grunted his way down your neck towards your collarbone. His hands snaked up your dress, pivoting it around your waist, and sliding your panties down, evidence of your wetness going with it.

“You wish he was in here with you right now, huh?” he growled, placing your hips just high enough on the dresser for your toes to barely touch the floor. “Bet he can’t make you come like I can.”

“No, no sir,” you whined, as you could feel yourself coming around him. His face altered between nipping at your lips, and landing on your neck, sucking hard.

“But you liked the way I had to watch over you all night, didn’t you?” he pushed two more fingers inside you, making sure to edge you as much as he was circling your bud. “Making me have to step in and scare him off?”

“You look so fucking good protecting me,” you moaned, as his digits started in between your folds.

All focus was lost as Steve’s hand pumped in and out of you so forcefully, but with care – care to know exactly how to make you reach the highest of highs. Before you slipped out of your haze, where you felt like you had seen stars, Steve wasted no time spinning you around to face the dresser mirror. He gripped your hips and waist, bringing the wetness from your core upwards before filling you up instantly.

He gave you a moment to adjust as he always did. He was still a gentleman after-all. After the slightest jiggle of your hips for him to keep going, he had steady pace of thrusts as you were forced to look at both of you in the mirror. Your hands gripped the edge of the dresser as his cock slid in and out, his moans low matching the pace of your skin slapping together.

Your eyes met his in the mirror, and there it was again – that look at he had tried to hide when he initially interrupted your conversation – it was stern, it was sharp, it was a feeling of possessiveness, of you being his and him being yours. “Oh baby, oh fuck,” you cried out as the second wave of an orgasm washed over you.

Steve maneuvered you both closer to the mirror, so you were closer to the dresser, you could lean against it as he continued to pound your ass. His grip was so tight on your hips, it almost felt like he finally forgot he had the serum running through his hands, and he didn’t know his own strength. Steve was going to leave his mark on you, making you wetter and let out a moan that was music to his ears. He thrusted harder, moving one of his hands from your waist towards the top of your wrap dress, towards your breasts. You almost couldn’t look at the both of you anymore, dropping your head as you moaned as low as you could. His hand flinched from your chest towards your neck, holding you up again to watch what he was doing.

“I want you to say it,” Steve demanded, as he kept his hold on your hair and ass steady. The pounding he was giving you was unbelievable, it was animalistic, it was never-ending, it was heaven.

All you could cry out was yes – yes. You knew the words but just couldn’t form them.

“Tell me darling, tell me what I want to hear,” he echoed again as his lips grazed your earlobe.

“I’m yours,” you gasped, as the next stronger orgasm was pulled out of you and your hands reached up to where his were at your collarbone. “Yours, only yours, forever, I promise.”

That was all he needed to hear, to finally come undone. His thrusts were still strong, but faster and sloppier. He was chasing the ending he finally needed. All of your senses ran together, so much that you could hear Steve exclaim a few cursewords, probably louder than what he intended as he came inside you. You closed your eyes, as all you could feel was catching your breath and trying to stand upright again. Your legs pulsed from the intensity of the position, as Steve’s hands comfortingly grazed your bod and he nipped at your ears and shoulders, planting kisses everywhere.

When you turned around, Steve became attentive and sweet and soft, helping you redress as if he didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life. He handed your clutch, which you had completely forgotten about, and watched you re-apply make-up, doing your best with your hair.

You turned away from the mirror to face Steve. That good old-fashioned pensive expression etching across his face again, as his hands rested on your waist, and your hands resting on his biceps.

You took a deep breath asking, “Who should I talk to next?”, leaving his side and leaving him to think of your next target and he could leave his mark on you again.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #marvel smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #sr #steve rogers fanfic #am i the only one who has a sir kink???

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apocalypse-shuffle · 11 months

Text

TONY STARK | IRON MAN (616)

────────────────────

“Office Time” (Tony Stark x Fem!Reader)

| Tony visits the reader at her office job. Just to hang out…no other reason.

| SFW, slice of life(?), nothing crazy happens they’re just talking, fluff

| Pic source: Tony Stark: Iron Man comics

| 2k+ words

Tony saunters into your office thirty minutes after finishing up with a business meeting in the area. He’s long since ditched his suit jacket, leaving him in a partially unbuttoned dress shirt and slacks, polished oxfords clacking on the vinyl as he travels down the office building’s nearly vacant hallways.

He knocks on your door while already walking himself in.

“Hey! It’s your boyfriend. Remember me?”

You glance at him briefly with a roll of your eyes but still flash him a smile before turning back to your monitor. The sleek black design was Stark Tech, gifted by himself, because no associate of his was working on anything less than the best. He can hear the tell tale signs of a conference call once he kicks the door closed behind him.

A small smirk eclipses his face at the sight of you and he edges his way across the room on silent feet. You toss him a curious glance but he waves you off. He’s got a hunch he plans on getting to the bottom of and he’s willing to risk your ire to do so. He thinks the reward will be greater than the risk in this case, though. Certainly more than his usual impulsive calls for excitement.

You only lightly startle when he plops down next to you on the floor behind your desk.

“So…” he starts, stretching out the word while settling comfortably beside your legs where they’re not fully under the desk.

“So?”

You hum and begin shuffling around with some papers. Tony feels like the file beneath your hands could knock Thor out; it's so thick.

“You know I love you, and all that good stuff. So, when I say this I'm really not trying to seem like the biggest jerk on the planet but, uh.” Tony scratches the back of his head as your eyes narrow at your screen. “Haha, okay. This is gonna be a little awkward, even for me, but did you get that package I sent you earlier?”

“Uh huh. It’s under my desk,” your face twitches funnily before you lick your lips. “It’s not secretly a…bomb…is it?”

You parse the question out tentatively and Tony blinks up at you.

“I would never do something so irresponsible.”

You squint, bright eyes still locked on whatever you’ve got running on the computer.

“Mmm, you kind of already have though.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle when the man smiles at you, blue eyes sparkling in amusement.

“I see what you’re trying to do right now, and it won’t work.”

“Oh you do? Well that’s okay because I distinctly remember a certain Armored Avenger crashing into the side of this building a month ago.”

“I’ll have you know, I was thrown, actually.”

You give a little nod randomly to the screen before addressing him.

“Whatever,” you sniff. “I could’ve died.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, the world's shittiest boyfriend award goes to me. Thanks.”

He’s going for playful dismissiveness, but if the look you throw at him is any indication he missed by a mile and ended up firmly at the corner of much too needy and much too self deprecating.

“Don't punch down, it looks bad on you. You still ended up saving me.”

“I don’t think the good deed counts if I caused the problem in the first place.”

“In this case we'll make an exception,” you frown at whatever’s on your screen but Tony doesn’t really know what to do at your reassurance. Eventually you fill the silence the room descends into.

“You’re good, though? Not slowly dying from some weird alien goo or anything?”

In a bid to dismiss your clear worry Tony waves his hand, “I’m fine, really. Just was in the area…Wanted to see you,” he shrugs. “Make sure you haven't opened that box.”

Tony gives himself a good chuckle before realizing the room’s other occupant isn’t laughing. His head whips to the side and his eyes widen. You’re cringing.

“Oh shit! You did? Honey...I...uh…” he trails off as you turn off your camera and slowly turn to him. Your face is pinched in guilt and embarrassment, and would you look at that, Tony feels like shit now.

“Hold on, Y/n, I’m not upset about it, just shocked I’m apparently rubbing off on you this much, and embarrassed.”

Your shoulders drop and you tap your manicured nails in succession once before your grimace turns into a soft smile.

You let out a small chuckle, “What’s so wrong with the gift you’d be embarrassed about it?”

“It’s just…uh…” he looks up at you and you smile.

“Proof that you care?”

He waves his hands around.

“No! I mean, yea- it just wasn’t supposed to come today.”

You nod sagely and place the gift, a beautifully crafted gold band set, gently atop your folder of doom.

“What exactly do you…think about them, though?”

Tony watches avidly as you chew on your lip for a moment.

He didn’t think after all you’d been through this would be the catalyst for you breaking up with him, but he really doesn’t want to disappoint you either.

It didn’t hurt that you were gorgeous to boot and could go toe to toe with Tony’s own brand of witt.

Neither of you take your eyes off the other as you suddenly push your chair back so you’re facing him. The moment you kick off one of your heels your boyfriend’s gaze locks on your bare foot. Tony’s breath hitches as you lift the fullness of your right leg up in front of his face. You slip the golden garter from your toes up to settle at the middle of your thigh, delighting in the way the hero tracks its trajectory.

Sliding the two thin gold cuffs up to your left forearm elicits the same amount of infatuation. After you finish putting on his gifts you meet his eyes and can't help the smile that tugs at your lips.

“Is that answer enough for you?” You lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love them, Tony. Thank you.”

Tony stares up at you, goofy grin taking over his face before he shifts to physically pat himself on the back. You laugh at him and turn back to your computer.

“Alright, yeah! Good on me. Best boyfriend of the year award firmly secured!”

You give him a little subdued upturn of your lips while flicking back on your camera. The meeting you’re in is still droning on without you.

“I won’t disagree with you, Tee,” you smirk. “Though that is a completely made up award.”

He squawks at your accusation, never mind that it was true.

You pay no further mind to his outburst except to shush him as you begin once again listening to what sounded like your team lead giving you all a hell of a talking to.

He takes to idly fiddling with his emergency screwdriver and the landline that was on your desk for the half hour it takes for your meeting to wrap up. He finds and disables a S.H.I.E.L.D tracker, two of Fury’s information gathering bugs, and one of his listening devices that was thankfully not transmitting -goddamn paranoid asshole- within the first twenty minutes.

Each time he finds something, identifies it and takes it apart, he shows it to you and by the time he’s fished out the last “addition” you look heavily irritated.

“Alright, yes, thank you for letting me listen in Ma’am…Mhm…Goodbye to you as well,” you say before logging off.

You turn to Tony, still cross legged on the floor, and your face goes from mildly irritated to furious in seconds.

“What the hell?”

Tony scowls at the ruined tech, “What the hell, indeed. Why would the General be tracking you?”

You shake your head.

“I work a desk job,” you say deadpan. “So it can’t be that, but I'd bet a lot that someone found out about us.”

“I want in on that bet,” Tony jokes lowly, dropping the ruined pieces of S.H.I.E.L.D tech into his pocket.

You rub at your forehead and Tony makes a soft noise before getting up on his knees and grabbing the hand that’s in your lap. He squeezes it softly.

“Don’t stress yourself out, I'll deal with it, okay? No one messes with my woman and gets away with it.”

You return the soft hold and snort as y’all lock eyes. Tony smirks and kisses the hand in his grasp. You smile softly down at him, bracing your elbow on the desk and leaning your head on your free fist.

“Your woman, huh?”

He can tell you’re putting on a brave face by how quickly your laughter fades after that. How fast your expression and tone goes from playful to something duller, and he knows he’s going to try and cheer you up before he even comes up with an actual plan.

“Yup.”

He winks at you, signature smirk softened around the edges, and you scoff while flicking his nose.

“Oh? Does that make you ‘my man’ then?”

“You’re damn right it does.”

You both let out quiet laughs while holding each other’s gazes. Dark lashes brush against brown skin when you blink and your eyes go half lidded, thumb running over his knuckles. It’s enough to make a grown man blush honestly.

Tony loves when the combined energy between you both sparks like this. It makes his body tingle in a way it never has with any of his past partners.

Sunset used to make him warm all over but it was never a good kind of warm, she used to make him feel lacking with nothing but pretty words and a flutter of her lashes. Tiberius didn’t make him feel like anything less than the shit stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Rumiko was like spring, blooming flowers and soft grass, but her dad had ripped her away the second he found out she was seeing a Stark so he’d never gotten to feel how they sparked. Janet made him want to dance and sing, her heat was like kinetic energy on a dance floor, but he was never a physical activity type of guy and she’d needed Hank more than him so their spark had fizzled out. Pepper and him had had a good run but in the end they hadn’t been what the other needed, but she was much more content with Happy anyway.

But you?

You made him calm like fall. All cool gusts of air and falling leaves when you looked at him during your rare moments of stillness together. Moments that made him want to fall into that pile of leaves and never come out. You pull him in like the world would stop revolving without you.

Your lips meet in a soft kiss.

You sigh against his mouth, hand moving to tilt his chin up more securely. He leans up to meet you halfway and you lean down to close the gap without a second thought. You and Tony devour each other slowly. You taste like coffee, like fall, and he’s desperate for it.

When you break apart neither of you are out of breath but he’s sure his eyes are just as dilated as yours. You’re only a hair's width apart as you breathe each other's air and he maps the intricacies of your face.

His eyes light up as he gets an idea.

“How bout’,” he pecks you on the lips before pulling back. “I cheer you up.”

“How so?” you ask, the smile you give him is wistful but the brown of your dark eyes twinkle.

Tony shivers. Your eyes only take on that mischievous sparkle when you’re planning or when you smell blood in the water and have somebody pegged. Tony usually likes the outcome of either of those.

There’s a twist to that usual assessing stare right now though.

You’re looking at Tony in the way Tony’s decided is reserved only for him. His stomach flutters. He’s not a particularly observant guy when it comes to normal people’s (ie: people that aren’t trying to kill him, use his money for villainy, or are who he fights beside) social cues, he accepted that years ago, but even he could tell that you were soft on him.

He throws you a heated look before adjusting his position on the carpet and moving down. He coaxes your legs apart with gentle touches before leaning in to plant a kiss on the soft inside of your thigh.

“I think I can come up with something,” he murmurs.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is not all canonical (obviously). Also mind any typos I’ll get to them eventually.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

#tony stark #iron man #616 tony stark #black!reader #black y/n #black female reader #tony stark x black!reader #tony stark x black!fem!reader #iron man x black!reader #tony stark x black reader #tony stark x fem!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark fluff #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man x y/n

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thebisexualdogdad · 2 years

Text

Are you a member of the mile high club? - Peter Parker x M!reader

"Hey Happy how long until we get to Los Angeles?" Peter asks spinning around in his seat.

"Pete, you asked me ten minutes ago and the answer is still over an hour," Happy sighs from the pilots seat.

"But I'm so bored," Peter groans.

Stark had requested you and Peter meet him in California for some assistance on avengers business and Peter was antsy to get there.

"I can think of something to keep you occupied," you smile.

"What's that?" Peter says excitedly.

"Yes, anything to get him to leave me alone," Happy huffs.

You lean over and whisper in your boyfriends ear, "are you a member of the mile high club?"

Peter gulps, "um no."

"Wanna join?" You say kissing his cheek.

Peter quickly gets out of his seat and takes your hand, "we're gonna go… make some modifications to my suit," he rambles.

"Whatever, have fun," Happy says not caring about what you guys were doing just thanking he finally had some peace and quiet.

You and Peter head to the back of the plane, shutting the door so Happy didn't notice what you were really doing.

Peter presses you up against the wall and kisses you.

Your hands go to his ass and squeeze his cheeks making him moan.

He sinks down to his knees, unbuttoning your pants and letting your cock free.

He strokes you to get you hard and kisses along your hips.

"I need you Peter," you mutter and he takes a long slow lick up the shaft of your cock.

He takes you in his mouth and begins bobbing his head while he palms at his own erection in his pants.

"Just like that," you say as he firmly strokes the base of your cock and sucks on the tip.

When you cum Peter swallows it all, not missing a drop.

He returns to his feet and you can see the clear bulge in his pants.

"I want to fuck you so bad Y/N," he tells you, letting his giant cock out and it slaps against his stomach.

"Please fuck me Peter," you beg.

He guides you to a table and turns you around, bending you over.

Peter sticks two fingers in his mouth, wetting them before teasing your hole.

He gently eases them inside to open you up and you're already getting hard again.

"Peter," you moan, your hips bucking against the table and he decides you're prepared enough.

He replaces his fingers with his cock and slowly rocks his hips.

"I love watching my cock disappear in your ass," he chuckles, holding onto your waist as he picks up the pace.

"God you feel so good inside me," you groan.

He's fully thrusting into you now, both of you letting out deep guttural moans.

You reach down and firmly stroke your cock, so close to your second release.

"Are you gonna cum?" Peter asks with a smirk.

"Yes," you nod so Peter thrusts his hips as fast as he possibly can.

You moan his name as you cum again onto the side of the work table.

Peter hits his own climax and pulls out of you, spurting in between your legs.

When you've had a moment to catch your breath you step back to see both of your cum dripping down the side of the table.

"It's like a Jackson Pollock," Peter laughs.

"This should be hanging up in an art museum," you joke, kissing him sweetly.

"ETA to LA thirty minutes," Happy announces over the plane speaker.

"We should clean this up before we land," Peter suggests as he gets redressed.

"I guess Tony would be upset if he came back onto his plane and found this," you laugh while you fix yourself up, "so you happy to be a part of the mile high club?"

"It is an esteemed honor," he smiles.

#marvel imagine #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #x male reader #fic

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nickfowlerrr · 2 years

Text

keeping secrets -

prologue

series masterlist / chapter one

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: this is going to be a very angsty/sad/smutty series. 18+ ONLY. reader has to get a physical done, mentions of weight (not explicit).

words: 1.2k

notes: this isn’t edited. and don’t let the gif fool you, this is a bucky x reader fic lol. we’re just starting slow and steady. i wasn’t gonna start posting this series yet but everyone is so excited and so am i so i figured what the hell. but no one is allowed to rush me for updates now bc you were all warned and you all know it takes me forever to update lol.

anyway! i really hope you all enjoy this little chapter. as always, feedback and comments are more than welcome. thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. let me know what you think 🖤

It was a Monday. You arrived at the compound at 5 in the morning, greeted by Steve Rogers himself. To say you were a little star stuck would have been an understatement, but you kept your composure and introduced yourself to the way taller and way more gorgeous in person man stood before you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he smiled as he shook your hand.

“Likewise, Captain,”

“Please, Steve is fine. We’re all like family here, no need for formalities. I’m sure you’re gonna fit right in,” he reassured you as he led you through the entrance. Still, the compound was expansive and just as intimidating as you thought it might be. You listened intently as Steve led you around, showing you the gym, the lab area, the kitchen, meeting rooms, med bay, training areas, the hangers, the common room, and everywhere else before he eventually brought you to your room.

“This is yours. It’s fully furnished, and feel free to decorate however you like. I know it seems kinda lifeless right now, but the other’s should be getting up soon and permitted staff start showing up around 8am, but they’re not always here. And none of them are allowed to just enter in our living quarters unless it’s an emergency. Guests are allowed, but they have to be cleared first, for safety reasons. Tony should be calling for you in a little while to get your gear all suited and then someone from med will get you to do your physical. We have a training scheduled for 10, you’ll get to meet everyone then if you don’t happen to cross paths before that. I’ll uh, I’ll leave you to get settled in then. Unless you need any help?” he offered.

“Really, it’s just clothes and toiletries. Thank you, though. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. Just tell FRIDAY if you need anything, she can call people for you, too. If you have any questions about it, though, I’d ask Tony. He knows a lot more than I do about it,” he said as he rubbed his neck almost nervously. “Well, I’ll be seeing you. Again, if you need any help, just call me,” he smiled again.

“I will, thanks,” you nodded with a smile in return. “See ya,” you said as he left your room.

Your meeting with Stark was quick, he seemed to be moving a mile a minute, not that you minded. He gave you your new and improved tact suit, explained the in and outs of it to you, had you try it on to make sure it fit well, and you said your thanks as he sent you on your merry way.

As you were walking back down the corridor to return to your room, you were stopped by a pretty blonde in a lab coat and glasses calling your name. You looked to her and she motioned for you to follow her back in the opposite direction you had been heading.

“Hi, my name’s Brittany, everyone calls me Brit, though. First day, huh?” she smiled at you.

“Uh, yeah. First day,” you laughed lightly. “Um..Where..are you taking me?” you asked confused.

“Oh, sorry! I should have led with that. Dr. Cho is waiting for you, just need to get your physical done and run some tests is all.”

“Cool,” you breathed, “let’s get it over with, then.”

You hated the doctors. You knew this was necessary, obviously, but that didn’t change the way you felt about having to get it done. You were thankful for Brit, though. Her chatter was distracting enough to help you not stress out so much. And she seemed really nice, you only hoped the rest of the staff would be, too.

As she walked you into the med bay, you were greeted by Dr. Cho who was waiting for you. After introducing yourselves, she led you to one of the back rooms to begin the exam.

You stepped out of your shoes before she took your height and as you were dreading the next part of the exam, she asked you a question you’d never been asked in a doctor's office before.

“I’m going to take your weight next, do you care to know it or would you like me to just record it and not show you?”

You stood there a moment, almost in shock at the simple question. You blinked a few times before you looked at her and finally answered.

“I- uh, I think I’d rather not know.. Thank you,” you said earnestly.

“Of course, not a problem.”

You stepped on the scale backwards so as not to see the number that in the grand scheme of things, you knew meant nothing. But you also knew how much damage knowing said number could do to your mental health. You breathed a sigh of relief as you stepped off and Dr.Cho continued on with the exam.

Before you knew it, you were on your way out of the med bay. As you walked into the lobby, you saw Brit talking animatedly to someone who leaned against the counter she was sitting behind. There were two cups of coffee before them and you saw a glimmer of metal as the person reached out to move the cups over so he could lean further without knocking them over. You pieced together from the hand and well built frame who it must have been. You didn’t need to see his face to know she was talking to the Winter Soldier. No, you corrected yourself, not the winter soldier. What was his name again? Barnes? Something Barnes. Sergeant something Barnes, you weren’t sure.

Not wanting to interrupt, or embarrass yourself, you slipped out of the office without saying a goodbye. You were sure you’d see her around, anyway.

As you left, your head was down while you stared at the floor, not wanting to draw any attention. Unfortunately, you didn’t see Steve walking right in front of you until you were already walking straight into him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” you were quick to apologize as his hands steadied you while you threatened to fall. He was a hell of a lot sturdier than he looked, it almost felt like you walked right into a wall.

“No, I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking, either.”

As you straightened up, he pulled his hands off you and gave you a sheepish smile.

“I actually was looking for you, though. There are a few things I forgot to show you,” he said.

As Steve was talking, you could feel eyes on you, but refused to turn around and meet them. From inside the med bay, Bucky was watching the interaction between you and Steve with intent eyes. He hadn’t seen you around before, yet something about your presence seemed familiar.. Your back was to him, so he couldn’t see your face, but the way Steve was smiling so much was making him even more curious about you. He continued watching and eventually caught himself admiring the sway of your hips as you and Steve left walking back down the hallway together. Brit came back around from Dr.Cho’s office and brought his attention back to her with more of her idle chatter, though somewhere in the back of his mind, he couldn’t seem to shake the nagging thoughts that kept coming back around to you.

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bittenbyyou · 10 months

Text

Inferior Flames (3)

MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, some comedy

description: Now it was Peter’s turn to keep an eye on you, much to your dismay.

word count: 6.8k

warnings: betrayal, cussing, arguing, lil bit of fake dating, OC’s background story, spying, fight scene

a/n: Yes, there will be a part 4, darlings! Please reblog and lemme know what you think. It’s highly motivating to all writers and I do read every comment. :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Hey kiddo, F.R.I.D.A.Y tells me you missed school. Are you okay?”

“Dad, are you in the middle of a battle?”

The hologram projection glitched when sounds of explosions and distant chaos filled the air. Your father’s face remained focused on you rather than whatever was going on, his armor glinting in the background.

“It’s fine, I called a timeout,” he said, looking around and assessing the situation. “Why aren’t you at school, Firefly?”

I don’t want to see Peter and a three-headed dragon wants to eat me.

“I’m overwhelmed with this test coming up. Wanted extra time to study.”

“You sure? You sound a bit off.”

You smiled weakly. “I’m sure, Dad. Focus on the battle.”

He blasted an enemy beyond the confines of the screen, and the screech sound it let out was dreadful.

“Alright, kiddo. If you need anything, Happy is around if I'm not available. Don't hesitate to reach out."

“I know, I know. Love you.”

“Love you too. Oh! Has the Spider-ling done anything I should know about?”

“Nope, not at all. I got to study. Bye!”

You ended the call on the control panel, blowing a raspberry to release some tension. Keeping secrets from your father was not on your to-do list, but divulging the truth would unleash a Pandora's box of complications you weren’t quite prepared to face. If Tony Stark couldn’t know, then it was a definite no-go for your mother and Happy.

This was a task that weighed solely on your shoulders, one you couldn’t rely on anyone else to complete. Deep down, you recognized the cliche and absurdity of the situation, the immense pressure you were putting on yourself. But this villain was anything but ordinary. Only you could vanquish it, but that meant risking the only tangible connection to your birth mother—the pearl.

Rather than studying, you used today to research leads on the three-headed dragon man known as Triroth. This power-hungry demon hailed from your village and had an insatiable appetite for devouring others. The enhancers were nothing more than a cunning ploy to attract formidable challengers, a way to entertain and satiate himself, absorbing their strength and amplifying his own power.

You were almost certain he had died. But here he was, back from the abyss in some inexplicable fashion. Determination fueled your every step as you mapped out a plan to shake up an old contact who might just hold the key to uncovering the truth.

Meanwhile, Peter’s mind was in a frenzy, unable to focus on anything at school. His gaze was fixated on your empty chair every class, his mind racing a mile a minute at the possibilities. What if you decided to take on the dragon by yourself? What if he captured you? What if, heaven forbid, he already ate you? It was driving him nuts.

“Peter? Peter. Peter!”

The boy looked up from his lunch tray to see a concerned Ned and MJ. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Are you good?” Ned asked.

“Yeah, you’ve been a little off,” MJ pointed out.

“Sorry, I was wondering where [Y/N] was.”

“Ah yeah… choir was a disaster without her.” She looked around the cafeteria as if someone could potentially be eavesdropping before adding on, “The girls can’t sing.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s sick?” Ned said.

“I hope so. Maybe I’ll swing by and see how she’s doing.”

MJ had an amused expression on her face. “You know where she lives?”

“Ooh, we should all go together!” Ned suggested. Peter’s eyes widened as he shook his hands in refusal. It’s not like he could take them to the Avengers Compound and reveal that you’re one (or not one).

“No! Th-That’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? Since when have you and her gotten that close? I don’t even know where she lives,” MJ said, narrowing her eyes in suspicion at Peter.

“I meant I’ll swing by the internship and see if she’s there.”

“Ah, their little Stark ‘internship~’,” MJ said in a sing-songy voice, air quoting the word “internship” with her fingers. Ned did the same voice and copied her fingers, the two of them laughing at themselves.

“Guys, come on,” Peter said, chuckling at their silly behavior. “It’s a serious internship. Hopefully it’ll soon lead to a real job with them.”

“Oh yeah. Sure,” MJ suddenly drops her smile, staring at him, eyes filled with suspicion. “What are you hiding, Peter?”

He forced a nervous laugh, attempting to mask his anxiety, but it came out slightly strained. “What are you—what are you talking about?”

“She’s been absent for one day,” Ned lifted up 1 finger like he was her partner for a class presentation. “And you’re worried about her. If I didn’t know any better… I’d say you care about her.”

Peter was speechless until Ned interjected with, “No. They’re rivals. Peter just wants to keep tabs on her.”

“Yeah, she told me about that. What, you can’t stand that a girl has a higher position than you in the internship?”

Again, Peter’s lips opened but no sound came out. Suddenly, MJ’s face broke out into a grin.

“I’m just kidding, I don’t care. I just like seeing you sit there like a gaping fish. Later losers, I gotta go to the restroom.”

As soon as MJ was gone, Ned immediately started rapid-firing questions at Peter. “Dude, did something happen? Did [Y/N] get hurt? Is she captured? She’s captured, isn’t she? I thought you said the mission went well!”

“Stop, stop, she’s fine. But… I upsetted her and I need to apologize for it.”

“What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you later. Lunch is over.”

Once Peter got home, he nonchalantly hung his backpack over the back of a chair. A cloud of smoke greeted him, launching a surprise attack on both his lungs and Aunt May’s, whose culinary experiment failed yet again.

“Hey Peter,” she said from the kitchen. He went over to her to ensure he didn’t need to grab a fire extinguisher. “Meatloaf’s a little…”—she coughed—“burnt. Do you want Thai again?”

Peter chuckled through his cough and nodded. “Yeah, May. Sounds great.”

Aunt May knew her nephew was Spider-Man, their special bond based on a foundation of trust and openness. Peter had confided in her about many aspects of his life as the friendly neighborhood hero—which recently involved you. However, he had kept his most recent mission under wraps, for obvious reasons.

As soon as she returned with the take-out, her keen intuition immediately picked up that something was wrong.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Aunt May said, setting her chopsticks down. “What’s going on?”

Peter poked at his food mindlessly, racking his brain on the best way to communicate his feelings without giving too much away. “Um… do you remember me telling you about [Y/N]?”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh yeah. The girl who can breathe fire and took your spot on the Avengers team!” Peter gave her a look. “Sorry. Sore spot, huh? You know, I haven’t met her yet.”

“Well yeah, she’s upset at me right now.”

She leaned back in her dining chair, crossing her arms over another. “Uh huh. Why?”

He set down his chopsticks. “I… made an assumption about her and I was wrong. Completely wrong. And it upset her and I wanted to apologize, but she told me to leave her alone.”

“Was it your jealousy? Did you say something petty? Because I know I taught you better than th—”

“No, May. It was something else. I’m worried about her. I think she’s going to do something dangerous by herself.”

She leaned forward, her elbows finding a cozy spot on the table. “You know, when you became Spider-Man, I worried about you facing danger everyday. But it made me feel better knowing that Mr. Stark was looking out for you. He’s out of town, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe you can be her person. The one that looks out for her. If it’s as dangerous as you say, then she needs help. And who knows? She might forgive you.”

“Thanks May.” He quickly slurped his food, causing him to momentarily choke. May rushed over and started patting his back, trying to dislodge the stubborn bite. He thanked her between coughs, then planted a swift peck on her cheek. With a playful grin, he darted off towards his room where his suit and mask awaited him.

“Hey Karen.”

“Hi Peter,” the AI replied.

“I need you to track someone. Her name is [Y/N].”

“I’m sorry, Peter. I am unable to process that request.”

“What, why?”

“It is against my protocol.”

Peter’s hands flew to his head, alarmed and bewildered. “Can you give me any information about her?”

“It depends. You do not have authorization for certain information.”

His hands dropped back down to his sides. “Don’t have authorization? Why can’t you… wait a second. Whose authorization do I need?”

“You would need Tony Stark’s authorization.”

“Karen please, I need to find her. She could be in danger. Can you give me her phone number at least?”

“That is one thing I can do. Shall I call her for you?”

“Yes, please!”

He waited patiently for you to pick up but after the second ring, it went straight to voicemail. “It appears she is unable to take your call. Would you like to leave her a message?”

“Yes!” He heard a beep. “Hey, Ember, it’s your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man here. So, uh, listen, if you’re going after dragon man, you gotta let me help you. Please.” There was a moment of silence before he continued, a touch of vulnerability creeping in his voice. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Stay safe.”

“That was very sweet, Peter.”

“Thanks Karen.”

“Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

“Yes. Call Ned.”

“Peter Parker is calling you.”

“Thanks D.A.W.N. Ignore it.”

“Got it.”

“Is there a chance he can locate me?”

“The chances are low. Your father put strict protocols on anything that would invade your privacy. However, having your phone on means he could potentially track it.”

“Turn it off for now.”

“Got it.”

You had tracked down an old contact at an enormous animal shelter on the east side of town, determined to find some answers. As you approached the facility, the darkened surroundings and the faint glow of the moon added an air of mystery to the scene. Searching for a way in, you scoured the perimeter of the building, checking doors and windows. Eventually, you discovered a slightly ajar maintenance entrance, providing an opportunity to slip inside unnoticed. Carefully, you crept through the narrow opening, ensuring not to disturb anything or set off any alarms.

Once inside, the shelter appeared deserted, its corridors dimly lit by sporadic emergency lights. The smell of animals lingered in the air, making your nose scrunch at the unfamiliarity. As you navigated the hallways, the soft sounds of animals rustling in their enclosures reached your ears. The glow of the overhead lights illuminated the rows of cages that lined the walls. Dogs barked softly, and cats meowed curiously, their presence creating an atmosphere of both serenity and longing.

Continuing your search, you followed the distant sound of feline purring and came upon a room filled with cats of various breeds and sizes. The woman you were seeking was standing before one of the cages, affectionately talking to a small tabby cat and stroking its fur.

“I need information on Triroth,” you said, pointing your spear at the back of her head. The woman’s lips curled into a subtle smile, having not heard her native language in years.

“Please. Not in front of my kittens. They’re innocent.”

Only after you lowered your spear and secured it on your back did she bother to turn around.

“Very well.”

You trailed behind her, weaving through the winding corridors of the building. The array of cats and playful puppies greeted you with excitement as you passed, their wagging tails and joyful barks exuding an air of anticipation.

Yet, as you left the company of the animals, there was a subtle shift in their behavior. The once-friendly chorus of barks and meows gradually morphed into an unsettling cacophony of growls and hisses. As if they sensed something unbeknownst to you—an unseen presence.

Your guide was unfazed by the animals’ hostile display, guiding you forward with an unwavering calmness. Finally, you arrived at the grand entrance of the main lobby.

“It’s been years, Ember. You certainly have grown up,” she said, her voice carrying a slight accent. With a dramatic turn, she faced you, a forced smile gracing her lips. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No, Kura. I need to know what Triroth is doing here and where to find him.”

“And if I don’t tell you?”

“I have ways of persuading you,” you said, getting into a fighting stance.

“Tsk. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Just taking extra precautions. Tell me where he is.”

She scoffed, her lips curling with a mix of disbelief and amusement, yet her eyes portrayed sadness. “That maniac killed my sister. I have no interest in suffering the same fate.”

You snapped your fingers, your helmet vanishing on command to reveal your shocked expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. After he tossed me aside, he went after my sister who foolishly fell in love with him. The bastard then sacrificed her life to regain his powers.”

“What the fuck…”

“Believe me when I say I want nothing to do with him. Now please leave.” With those words, she averted her gaze, indicating her desire for you to depart.

“No please,” you begged, rushing over and placing a hand on her shoulder. She went on the defensive, the air crackling with tension as your actions triggered a fierce hand-to-hand combat. With a blend of grace and determination, you dodged her attacks and striked back with precision and agility.

Yet Kura’s eyes gleamed with a twisted delight, relishing the challenge that was you, her thirst for battle having not been satiated for a long time. Her every movement exuded a dark elegance, as if she danced with the shadows themselves. Her strikes were ruthless, each blow infused with a raw power that threatened to overwhelm your defenses.

The clash intensified, the echoes of grunts and exertion reverberating through the room. Kura wasn’t backing down, seeming invigorated by the fierce resistance. As the battle reached its climax, you seized an opportunity and skillfully maneuvered her, pinning Kura against the wall.

You pressed your spear against her throat, the cold metal creating a stark contrast against the skin.

“Please,” you whispered, a flicker of sorrow in your voice. “All I want is to stop Triroth and I know you were close to him once before. Anything would help.”

She hesitated as you pressed the tip of the spear closer, grazing the delicate skin of her throat.

“I spared your life once. You owe me,” you reminded her.

“Fine. But you already know what he wants.”

“The pearl.”

“Precisely. All he’s ever wanted is power and who better to drain the life force of than humans? They’re stupid and in abundance. He won’t stop until you hand the pearl over.”

“Where is he staying?”

“I already said I don’t know!” She mustered all her remaining power and unleashed a desperate counterattack, launching a powerful energy blast that sent you flying backwards. You lifted your body off the ground, letting out a faint “ow” before chasing after Kura, who was trying to escape. It was then you saw a web had been casted around her body, immobilizing her in an intricate pattern of sticky strands. She fell down like a log, wiggling around like a fish out of water. “Get me out of this!”

“Hey Ember.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you whipped around quickly, spear ready for battle only to see the sight of the iconic red and blue hero, gracefully suspended upside down.

“What the heck, don’t do that!” you yelled, lowering your weapon.

Peter detached himself from his web and landed on his feet. “Sorry, but I—”

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Well I was in the neighborhood—”

“I don’t want to hear it. “

“And you weren’t at school so—”

“And now I gotta hear it.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Peering over your shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Kura, seeing the fear in her eyes. “And you’re kinda scaring her…”

With a mischievous grin, you confidently brandished your weapon, savoring the momentary flicker of fear that danced across the arachnid superhero's eyes. However, you decided to lower the spear, loving how easy it was to tease him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so great at interrogation. Please, by all means. Go ahead.” You gestured your arms over to Kura, challenging the hero.

“Okay. Should be easy.” He jogged right over and crouched down to her eye level. “Hi, I’m Spider-Man,” he held his hand out for her to shake, only for her to look up at him with a judgemental gaze. “Oh, my bad. You’re webbed up. Sorry about that, but my friend needs information.”

“We’re not friends,” you corrected.

Peter pressed a hand against his mouth, mimicking a makeshift wall to shield his voice from you.

“I guess I’ll have to return the matching best friend bracelets,” he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Kura let out a chuckle in response before saying something in her native language, smiling brightly at Peter.

“Hey, I think I’m getting somewhere!” Peter exclaimed. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, placing one hand on your hip.

“She says she’s curious to see how delicious spider flesh is,” you translated.

The white of Peter’s mask where the eyes were widened significantly as he backed away nervously. You laughed, bending down to Kura’s level. Peter watched as you said some things to her in a foreign language, unable to decipher any part of the conversation. Kura seemed unsure at first, but eventually, she uttered something that brought a grin to your face. In that moment, you and her wore matching smirks and glanced at Spider-Man.

“Ember…?” he stammered, taking cautious steps backward with his hands raised in surrender. You swiftly rose to your feet, wielding your spear with determination. In a swift, controlled motion, you tore through the intricate webs that bound Kura, setting her free.

“Thanks for the intel, Kura. Have fun.”

With another snap of your fingers, your helmet appeared on your head and you flew out of the shelter at the speed of light. Peter stared at Kura, letting out a nervous laugh to quell the tension he sensed in the air.

“Hate to leave a lady hanging, it was nice to meet you!” Peter shot a web and attempted to swing his way out when a long, bushy fox tail snaked around his foot. “What the…?!”

Another tail wrapped around Peter’s torso, yanking him to the ground with an earth-shaking crash. Struggling to free himself, he glanced back in astonishment, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Kura had not one, not two, but nine tails fanned around her like a peacock spreading its feathers.

“Well, well, looks like we've got a real 'fox'-y situation here,” Peter quipped. Kura smirked, clearly enjoying her little game. She launched another tail at his free leg, deftly pulling him closer with a sly grin. “Oh my god! Ember! EMBER YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME, SHE HAS SO MANY TAILS, WHAT THE FUCK, AHHH!”

You were outside the shelter on the rooftop, peering in through the glass ceiling.

“He’ll be fine,” you told yourself, chuckling afterwards before heading home.

The next morning at school…

“Can we talk?”

“I would rather do literally anything else,” you said, closing your locker shut after pulling out the textbooks you needed for class. You began striding down the bustling hallway at a brisk pace with Peter trailing close by your side.

“You left me with a nine-tailed fox demon!” he hissed, the sound of students chattering providing a convenient cover for your conversation.

“You survived. Kura isn’t a threat. She just likes to play with her food,” you taunted.

“She had nine tails. Nine. All on me. I’m pretty sure I still have fur on my…” He shuddered at the memory.

“Ew, ew, ew, shut up.”

“I ran out of webs just to tie her up! How could you leave me?”

“Well, she thought you were cute.”

“She did?” A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, and you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look.

“Stop following me.”

“I was worried about you.”

“Yeah, no. That needs to stop. Go back to hating me.” Peter stole your textbooks from you, effectively stopping you from going further. “Hey!”

He slyly concealed the books behind his back, leaning against a locker to sandwich them and making it even more challenging to reclaim your possessions. When one of your hands got too close, he snatched your wrist with his free hand and pulled you close. Your eyes locked in an intense gaze as you found yourself face to face with him.

"I don't hate you," he whispered gently, his words hanging in the air. You stood there, frozen in place, caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity that resonated in his voice.

“... Maybe you should start.”

“Is there a problem here?” As your gazes shifted, you caught sight of Flash glaring at Peter. “Is Parker bothering you? Dude, let go of her hand.”

With his quick thinking, Peter blurted out, “Why should I? She’s my girlfriend.”

“I’m your what now?”

He went from holding your wrist to enveloping your hand with his own. “Girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend. You got a problem with that?”

Flash responded with a dismissive 'pshhhh' sound, clearly not convinced by Peter's bluff. In that moment, you were left speechless, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing the tension, Peter quickly sprang into action, guiding you away from Flash with a victorious grin stretching across his face.

“With us dating, it won’t be weird if I’m always around you,” Peter said with a certain gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s not creepy. I swear I’m going to kill you,” you muttered, trying to shake off his grip, but he wouldn’t let up.

“Not before we hunt down that dragon, babe.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, sending a wave of butterflies through you. Against all reason, you found yourself allowing him to keep hold of your hand as you walked together, all the way until you reached your classroom.

“Man, I knew you were hiding something from me. I was going to ask you to be my wingman and it turns out you were your own wingman and now I’m wingless!”

“What?” Peter asked, laughing at his friend’s rambling. Ned slammed his lunch tray down, the milk carton almost toppling over, and took a seat.

“You’re dating [Y/N]!”

“Oh… Oh! Oh, that. Come closer,” Ned leaned in from across the table. “There’s a mission that she’s keeping from me and I need an excuse to be close to her so she’ll let me come,” Peter whispered.

“Oh~!” Ned said, relieved as he sat back down in his own seat. “I see you, Peter. Nice.”

“I knew you had a thing for him,” a female voice said in the distance. Ned and Peter followed the sound to see you and MJ heading their way.

“MJ, we’re not dating.”

“That’s not what it looked like. He held your hand to every class, I think that counts as dating~.”

“The boy is obsessed with me, I don’t have the heart to reject him.”

“Oh honey, don’t go down that path. I’ll reject him for you.”

MJ and you sat down, but once she saw you were sitting next to Peter, she raised an eyebrow. “Peter…”

“Yeah?” he said, sipping his chocolate milk.

“[Y/N]’s not interested in dating you. She’s too nice to say no, so I’m doing it for her.”

“God, MJ,” you covered your face, mortified at her brutally honest nature. Peter draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. He smelled pleasant, like a mixture of calming eucalyptus and gentle florals.

“Did she tell you that? The truth is she’s too shy to admit she has feelings for me. She was following me at one point.”

“Peter!” you exclaimed, pushing him off you. “Will you shut up?”

He pointed his thumb at you like he was doing the “get a load of this guy” meme.

“Yeah and why wouldn’t she like Peter? He can recite the entire periodic table backwards. What a guy.”

All three of you took a look at Ned, confused as hell. “Thanks Ned.”

He gave him a thumbs up, oblivious to the weird dynamic he created.

“Okay, you two aren’t telling us something,” MJ deduced. “Come on, Ned. Let’s let the two love birds figure their stuff out.”

The look you gave MJ screamed for her not to leave, but she only smirked in response as Ned got up and followed her, making sure to give Peter another thumbs up. As soon as they were out of earshot, Peter slid his lunch tray out of the way and faced you.

“What did Kura tell you?”

“Like I’d tell you,” you said, stabbing your food with your fork aggressively. “I’m imagining this as your face by the way.”

“Yikes. I’m the first victim of the Fork Assassin.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Tell me.”

You set your utensils down and faced him, wearing an expression of exasperation. “You’re really not going to stop, are you?”

“I want to help you.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Fine. I’ll just call Mr. Stark and tell him what you’ve been up to.” Your instincts betrayed you, your eyes widening more than you wanted him to see. You tried your best to keep your composure, but he saw right through you.

“Don’t. He can’t know.”

“Then are you going to tell me?”

You reluctantly nodded. “Fine. But not here. Meet me at the school’s rooftop around midnight. Now, will you stop with the whole fake boyfriend thing and tell MJ and Ned to come back?”

“Sure thing, darling.”

“That’s it!”

You grabbed your fork and Peter shielded his body with hands. “Not the face, not the face!”

You arrived at Midtown High earlier than midnight, wondering if this was a good idea.

“Hey Early Bird. Or should I say Ember Bird?” a friendly voice said from above. You noticed Spider-Man at the top of the school’s tower, jumping down to get to your level. You got comfortable and sat criss-cross, patting the spot next to you.

“Hi Spidey Bird,” you said, mirroring his lame joke. “Join me.”

Spider-Man took the seat beside you before taking off his mask and revealing his warm smile. He noticed the package of colorful treats in your lap, pointing to them.

“Are those gummy worms?”

“Yeah. Want some?” you asked, offering him the bag after tearing it open.

“Sure, thanks,” He popped one in his mouth, chewing with a giddy smile. You threw one up in the air and caught it in your mouth, earning an eye roll from him. “Showoff.”

Once he finished swallowing the sweet gummy, he blew a small raspberry with his lips. “So… are you going to tell me what you know?”

“Yeah, I suppose I have to. Kura told me my pearl can track Triroth’s mystical energy.”

“That’s great! Let’s come up with a plan and take him down.”

“It’s not that simple, Peter. If the pearl ends up in his hands, the consequences could be catastrophic. And… it’s the only memory I have left of my birth mother.”

You hugged your knees tightly, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Peter noticed your distress, shifting out of his criss-cross position. With one knee bent, he leaned back and used his hands to support his body, creating a relaxed yet attentive posture.

“Do you want to tell me about her and your family?”

“Well, my background is… complicated.”

“I’m willing to listen.” You gave him a grateful smile. “For the whole package of gummy worms.”

“Ugh.” You threw it at his face and, to your surprise, it actually hit him.

“Hey!”

“Sorry!” you said, unable to contain your laughter. “I thought your Spidey Sense worked.”

“It does. But not for gummy worms!” He held the treats hostage. “They’re definitely mine now. Now talk.”

You delved into the story of your origins, telling him about how you had come from a tiny village a long ways away from New York. Your parents were remarkable beings bestowed with extraordinary powers. They spoiled you rotten, believing you could do no wrong and letting you get away with just about anything.

However, your mischievous tendencies took a wild turn once you reached ten years old. You couldn’t resist using your powers to play pranks and torment others for your own amusement. Little did you know, your misbehavior caught the attention of the Goddess of Mercy herself. She revoked your powers until you learned how to behave.

That’s when you learned the hard way about how actions had consequences. With the tables turned, you found yourself defenseless, becoming the target of others teasing and bullying. You suffered a great deal, learning about doing what was right and how to treat others kindly.

It was during this difficult time in your life that you first encountered Triroth. He stormed into your village, seizing control with an iron grip. Your righteous nature couldn’t stand idly as innocent townsfolk faced his wrath. In a valiant attempt to protect them, you found yourself kidnapped by the wicked demon. He held you hostage, demanding that your mother surrender her precious pearl—a source of great power that fueled her formidable weapon.

The Goddess of Mercy, ever watchful, returned your powers when least expected, but it was too late. When your parents came to your rescue, they instructed you to save yourself, but you ignored them. If only you had listened to their words and escaped, perhaps they could have emerged victorious instead of worrying about your safety.

Triroth killed your mother, who shielded your body when you decided to fight back. Your father, filled with unwavering bravery, confronted the demon and dragged him to an endless abyss. Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, Triroth pulled your father down along with him, their fates seemingly sealed.

Both of them died, or so you thought, until now. Triroth had returned and was still fixated on obtaining your mother’s pearl—a relic that could be catastrophic in the wrong hands.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have assumed you two were related.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“No, it’s not okay. He’s a monster, he took away your parents and killed innocent people. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

“I’ll be okay once he’s been defeated.”

“I agree. And we can do it together.”

“No, Peter. I have to do this myself.”

“What? That’s stupid.”

“So… I’m stupid?”

“What?” You swore you could actually see the gears in his head turning. “No, not you, um. You’re not stupid, fighting alone is stupid because… it’s not smart…”

“Nice save.”

“It sounded better in my head.” You bumped your shoulder into his in a playful manner, letting him know you weren’t upset.

“Peter, do you know why I’m not an Avenger?” He didn’t say anything and waited for you to continue. “Because I’m scared.”

“What? What do you have to be scared of? You’re powerful. You can defeat him, I know it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m scared… of dying.”

“Well, that’s normal.”

“No. I’m so terrified of dying that I will choose to save myself over anyone else.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“It is. Why do you think I was so upset that night at the club?”

“Because you didn’t want me to get hurt?”

You shook your head. “Because if it comes down to saving either you or me, I will choose me.”

Peter was rendered speechless at your blunt words. “Whoa, hold on. It doesn’t have to come down to that. We’re in this together.”

His insistent need to do this with you was tiresome, so you got up and walked over to the ledge of the rooftop overlooking the city.

“You don’t get it. I’m not the self-sacrificing type, Peter. I fight for myself. Not for you. Not for the people in this city. I don’t care for anyone but myself.”

Peter rose to his feet and stood near you, casually resting his forearms on the ledge as he stared at your side profile. “You say that, but who would risk their own life to battle a demon?”

“I’m avenging my parents.”

“But if you were scared of dying, you wouldn’t battle Triroth in the first place.”

“I can if I knew I was alone. My parents died because I didn’t save myself, so from now on, that’s what I’m going to do.” You slowly turned to face him, a fierce intensity burning in your gaze. “So don’t get in my way. You’ll just be a burden.”

Despite Peter's patience and understanding of your pain stemming from past mistakes, your words pierced deep, leaving him feeling as though all his efforts on your behalf had been invalidated.

“You think I’m a burden?” He nodded silently, his lips pursed, and took a few steps back, his hands raised as if he were saying, “Okay, I got the message.”

A wave of guilt washed over you, but instead of speaking up, you remained silent.

“You wanna know why I saved you at the club?” He clenched his jaw, trying his best to remain composed. With his hands firmly planted on his hips, he bowed his head, contemplating the perfect choice of words.

“I never asked you to,” you remarked. He snapped his head up to stare straight into your soul, eyes ablaze with anger.

“Because that’s what being Spider-Man is all about. I saved you because I won’t stand by and allow someone to suffer by doing nothing. You’re wanting to go into battle against a demon with no backup.” Frustration washed over him, evident as he ran his hand through his hair, massaging the back of his head with a hint of exasperation. “For someone who’s scared of death, that honestly sounds pretty stupid.”

“So you’re definitely calling me stupid now.”

“Yes! Because you won’t let me help!”

“I don’t need your help!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest. “I never did!”

He took a sharp inhale and closed his eyes to find his happy place, briefly resting his forehead on his hand to collect himself before speaking again. “You’re being so annoying right now.”

“Good, I love being annoying.”

Peter let out a “gah!” sound, holding his face in frustration before walking back towards you. “You’re so stubborn.”

“Another thing we can agree on,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and a cold sweat coated your palms when you realized he wasn’t stopping. You stepped backwards to distance yourself until your back met the unyielding surface of a wall, leaving you with no escape route.

“And you want to know the worst part of all this?” he asked, not breaking eye contact.

“Do enlighten me.”

“You’re selfish.”

“Yup, sure. Love that for me.” You tried to leave when he extended his arm out, effectively blocking your way. “You know, girls don’t find this as attractive as movies make it out to be. It’s kinda cliche.”

“Will you shut up for one second?”

“You gonna make me?”

“And you wanna talk about cliches.” Unexpectedly, he shot a web at your wrist and you freaked out.

“What the hell, Peter?!”

“What, you expecting a kiss?”

“You wish, webhead. You seriously have a thing for tying up women. Is it your kink or something?”

A flush of pink dashed across his cheek. “S-Say what you want, but you’re going to stand here and listen to me.”

You attempted to pull your wrist free when he added on, “And if you don’t, I’m telling your dad.”

That ceased your attempts of escaping. “... My dad…?”

“Mr. Stark adopted you. Didn’t he?”

“How’d you—”

“Karen told me.” Your perplexed face made him quickly realize he needed to elaborate. “The suit lady.”

“Your AI?”

“Well, she didn’t really tell me, I figured it out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When I asked her to find you, she said I didn’t have the authorization to track you. That I needed authorization from Mr. Stark. The only reason she would say that is if he wanted to keep your privacy, well, private. And with what you told me today, everything lines up.”

“Fuck…” you breathed. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t want my dad to worry.”

"You know," Peter remarked, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "I have to admit, you're really not in the best position to ask for favors. I mean, let's recap, shall we? You pretended to be an Avenger, completely humiliated me in front of everyone, and oh, did I mention you're Iron Man's daughter? Yeah, it's quite the resume you've got there." He crossed his arms, unable to suppress a chuckle as he savored the moment.

“Peter, I swear… if you tell him, I will never forgive you.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

“I lost one father. I can’t lose another.”

“There. That’s the real you. So selfish.”

“What?”

“You talk about the possibility of losing others. But have you not once considered how he might feel? You’re actively putting yourself in danger behind his back. He wouldn’t want to lose you.” His gaze softened, his voice sincere. “I… wouldn’t want to lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Peter's words washed over you. The anger that had consumed you moments ago dissolved into a bittersweet realization. His concern, his unwavering support, it was all driven by a genuine fear of losing you.

No. You couldn't allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let him see the turmoil brewing within you. It was easier to bury your feelings, to push him away, even if it tore you apart inside.

“You’re a liability.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Stay away from all this. Stay away from me.”

He leaned in closer, gently pressing his forehead against yours. His voice was so broken, barely audible, as he pleaded, “Please don’t push me away.”

You closed your eyes, fighting back the tears, the ache in your chest matching the ache in your soul. Your mind raced, torn between your desire to protect Peter and the overwhelming weight of your own fears and doubts. You had convinced yourself that pushing him away was the only way to keep him safe, but now, faced with his vulnerability and plea, your resolve wavered.

A tremor passed through your voice as you tried to steady yourself, to keep your emotions in check.

"I have to, Peter," you whispered, your words laced with a mixture of sorrow and determination. He intertwined his fingers with your own, shaking his head.

“Please don’t go.”

Taking a deep breath, you released his hand, your resolve hardening within you. The weight of your decision hung heavily in the air as you prepared yourself for what had to be done. It pained you to hurt him, but you knew it was the only way to keep him safe.

With a sudden swiftness, you struck at the precise pressure points on his body, rendering him temporarily paralyzed. His eyes widened in shock, a silent plea for understanding and answers. Before he could utter a word, you swiftly pressed another pressure point on his neck, muffling his voice and preventing him from moving.

Guilt flooded your senses, but you knew this was necessary. You had to go alone, to face the danger that lay ahead without burdening him with your choices and risks. It was a sacrifice you were making to protect him, even if it meant breaking his trust.

As Peter's eyes conveyed a mix of pain and betrayal, you couldn't help but offer a heartfelt apology. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice heavy with remorse.

With a practiced touch, you ignited a tiny flame on your index finger, using it to burn through the webs that bound your other hand. The strands disintegrated, freeing you from their constraints. Peter's eyes followed the flickering flame, pain etched across his face.

"I have to do this on my own," you explained, your voice tinged with determination. "You'll regain control of your body in a few hours. It's for your own safety."

Before leaving, you carefully donned Peter's mask, shielding his identity from prying eyes. With a heavy heart, you carried him back to his apartment, gently laying him on his bed.

“I can’t lose you too.”

Tagging: @elicheel | @ifilwtmfc |

Thank you for reading and loving my ideas! I really do appreciate every reblog and every hashtag. Feel free to send me an ask if you’d like!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker #mcu spiderman #peter parker mcu #peter parker x you #peter parker e2l #peter parker x oc #spiderman x reader #stark!reader #avenger!reader #tom holland peter parker #inferior flames #my writing

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buckybeardreams · 1 year

Text

Tony meant to bid on a girl—because, of course, he did—but then he found himself spontaneously dropping half a million dollars to steal the kid from Osborn.

And the kid, well, he's just so freaking stoked to be going on a date with his idol; all bubbly and bouncy and talking a mile a minute.

Tony finds it oddly endearing.

"I didn't even know you liked guys, Mr. Stark," the boy confessed shyly. "But… I'm really glad you chose me."

Tony cleared his throat.

"Uh, no, I'm sorry, kid. It's not like that. I'm not into men."

Peter frowned, confused.

"I—I don't understand."

"I just bid on you to save you from a date with that creep Osborn. A nice kid like you, he'd eat you up."

Peter blinked at him, looking down with a frown.

"Oh…"

The kid looked so hurt, and Tony felt bad, but he really was straight… right?

"I'm sorry, kid."

Peter shook his head, giving him a strained smile.

"That's okay, Mr. Stark. I appreciate you, uh, saving me."

Tony nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Should we head out then?"

Peter swallowed hard.

"We don't have to—"

"Hey, it's no biggie. I don't have to be gay to pay for dinner."

Peter looked away, eyes stinging with tears.

"I—I appreciate it, but I think I'm gonna head home, if that's okay."

Tony shouldn't have hated it as much as he did, letting Peter walk away.

"Yeah, sure, kid."

He told himself he just felt bad for hurting the kid's feelings, but now, he's confused because he can't seem to stop thinking about him.

Part 2

#just woke up with this idea in my head #wtf i love my just waking up brain #starker #ironspider #starker prompt

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mrsstruggle · 1 year

Text

The Lost Child - Chapter 33 // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

Summary: Y/N Stark was taken from her family when she was three years old. It’s fifteen years later and her family believes she is dead. Then how is she living in Beacon Hills?

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff, & More To Come

Previous Pairings: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Scott McCall x Allison Argent

Words: 6.3k

Note: The last two chapters and epilogue are coming soon!

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.***

Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Previous Chapter

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"So, what do we do?" Peter asks.

"We need to leave," Tony states, while, at the same time, Derek says, "We need to get the others."

"Leave?" Scott looks at Tony with a confused look.

"You said there's an army gathering outside of town and they've put a target on Y/N's head. We're leaving." The Avengers nod their heads in agreement around Tony.

Y/N steps in front of Derek, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not the only one with a target on my head."

"Yes, but you are the one with the biggest one. We just got you back and we still haven't been able to do anything about that. We've barely even spoken. We all thought you were dead for years."

"Look, I get where you're coming from but I'm not leaving. Leaving won't do anything and it will only make it worse. I'd rather people think I'm a monster because I'm a werewolf than think I'm a monster because I ran and hid while innocent people got slaughtered."

Tony knows that the look of defiance on her face means she's not going anywhere, "Fine. We better ge–"

"No," Scott cuts him off. "We're in charge here."

"Excuse me?"

"I know you're the big Avengers and everything but we deal with this stuff all the time. Beacon Hills is our home so we're in charge."

"No offense but how old are you? We might not be experts on werewolves or hunters, but we've dealt with much worse. This isn't our home like it is yours but we know how to deal with things like this."

"Right, like how you dealt with the killer robot you created? Maybe we should ask the people of Sokovia to tell us how well you helped them?" Stiles looks at Tony with a slight smirk on his face.

"We don't have time for this!" Y/N interjects. "I'm in charge and that's final."

Tony looks like he wants to argue but decides against it. She's right, they don't have time to argue about who knows better. If people are getting ready to attack them, they need to focus on that and not on petty things.

"What do you want us to do?" Steve asks after Tony doesn't say anything.

"Stiles, you said we have two hours, right?"

"Right," Stiles affirms.

"Call Chris and put him on speaker."

Stiles quickly opens his phone and clicks on Chris's number before putting his phone on speaker. Everyone stares at the phone silently as they wait for Chris to answer. Y/N slightly paces back and forth as she thinks about what she wants to do.

"Hello?" Chris's voice rings out.

"Chris, you told Stiles that they're gathering outside of town. Where?"

"There's a safehouse about ten miles north of town. It's deep into the woods where no one can find it."

"But you know where it is?"

"Of course."

"Meet us at the old Hale house in 30 minutes. Bring whatever you got. We're bringing the fight to them." Y/N looks up at Derek for reassurance that she's making the right call.

"There's something else," Chris states.

"What?" Scott quickly asks, moving closer to the phone.

"It's not just hunters she's recruited. She's recruited something else as well. I don't know how she found it or if it found her but she has an Anuk-Ite."

"What the hell is that? Is that some kind of weapon?" Stiles questions.

"It's an ancient shapeshifter that feeds off fear. It's already merged which means it's in its most dangerous form. Whatever you do, don't look at it in the eyes. If you look into it's eyes you will turn into stone and die. For humans, you would die immediately, but if you're supernatural you can survive long enough until someone kills it."

"What do you mean it feeds off fear? How can we not look into it's eyes if we don't know what it looks like?" Y/N asks. They can deal with hunters easily but they don't know what this other creature is or anything about it. They don't have time to stop and research either.

Chris sighs through the phone, "It can amplify a person's fear and then feed off of it to make it more powerful. It can also implant illusions into your mind and trick you into looking into their eyes. It will take your biggest fears and use them against you."

"Great," Stiles states, "so we have to make sure the hunters don't kill us while also keeping our eyes closed so we don't turn into human statues."

The Avengers look at each other with worry and confusement in their eyes. They've dealt with terrorists, assassins, gods, aliens, and more but they've never dealt with something like this. Is this what Y/N and the others deal with all the time? They talk so naturally about people hunting them like it's just a normal thing they deal with.

"How do we kill it?" Scott asks.

"Trap it in mountain ash and it's powers will rebound on itself," Chris replies.

"Okay, thanks for letting us know. We'll call the others and gather as much stuff and people that we can." Y/N says. She rubs her temples as she starts to think about what they should do. Hunters and the Anuk-Ite are only the things that Chris knows about. Knowing Kate, she probably has more up her sleeve that they don't know about.

"I'll do the same. See you in 30 minutes." The line goes dead as Chris hangs up the phone.

Everyone stands silently staring at Y/N, waiting for her to tell them what to do. She said she was in charge so they are ready to hear what her plan is.

"Stiles, call dad and tell him to block all roads leading in and out of Beacon Hills." Tony's face falls slightly hearing Y/N call someone else dad.

"Do I tell him why?" Stiles asks. He's not sure if he wants to tell their dad what's about to happen. They don't need him volunteering to help. Their dad isn't supernatural like Y/N or Scott. If he gets hurt badly enough or turned to stone, that's it for him. Stiles isn't supernatural either but he knows he can take care of himself. He's been dealing with things like this ever since Scott got turned.

"No. Just tell him to close off the town and look out for hunters."

"Got it." Stiles walks away from the others to call the sheriff.

"What do you want us to do?" Bucky steps in front of Steve, ready for Y/N to give him an order. He never thought he'd see the day that little Y/N Stark would be leading them into a battle but he can't hide the proud look on his face. While he never wanted her to know a life like the Avengers know, he's glad to see the woman she turned out to be. It's something he stopped believing he'd see after a while.

"You and Steve can go with Scott and recruit as many people as you can. There's a lot of supernatural people who live in this town. They need to be given an option to either fight with us or stay and hope we defeat the army before they burst into town and kill everyone they want." Y/N states, looking between Scott, Steve, and Bucky.

"Do you really think we can't defeat a mere mortal army?" Thor questions. This sounds like an easy win. Why do they need more people? Why are they putting so much thought into this? He can just go over there and take them all out with a single swing of his hammer.

"I think fear makes people do unexpected things and I've learned to never underestimate anyone. Even the weakest of people can take down the strongest with the right motivation."

"Yeah, like this one time we were almost taken out by a small creepy guy who also had an obsession with Scott's ex-girlfriend," Stiles states, coming back into the room. "He also had a giant lizard helping him but it's whatever."

"Or like Stiles." Stiles throws an offended look at Y/N as she says his name. "He's human and he runs around with werewolves and is constantly against hunters or other supernatural creatures and things. He's physically weaker than all of them and yet he's still here. Except for the time that he was the supernatural thing but that's beside the point."

"What about the rest of us? What do you want us to do?" Tony asks. He still thinks they should get Y/N out of here and let someone else deal with this issue. If she's the target, she shouldn't be here. They could take the quinjet and get her to the compound, but if she wants to stay and fight, and he can't convince her otherwise, he'll stay and fight with her.

"You, Peter, Stiles, and Derek should head back to the apartment." Y/N holds up her hand to silence the protest Stiles and Derek started to make. "Sneak back in and then go out where everyone who's gathered there can see you. Pretend like I'm with you and make sure they follow you. I don't care where you take them, just make sure they're away from the apartment. If any hunters get through the blockade, that's one of the first places they'll go and we don't need more people getting hurt."

"Why do we have to go with them?!" Stiles exclaims, Derek nodding in agreement next to him.

"One, what four people will people be looking out for the most in the 'Y/N Stark's alive' story? Two, it's Derek's apartment so he has to be there to make it realistic. And three, because I said so."

"Then what are you and Scott doing?"

"Scott's going with Steve and Bucky to get others who want to fight."

"Then who's going with you? What are you doing?"

"I'm going with the rest of them to the Hale house to meet with Chris and figure out the best way to attack," Y/N states, looking at the rest of the Avengers to let them know that's what they were going to do.

Derek crosses his arms in a protective manner, "You're going with them. Alone." He knows that they are technically her family but he doesn't trust them. He knows next to nothing about them except that the world's biggest heroes let Y/N be given to one of the world's biggest terrorist groups by one of their own.

Y/N rolls her eyes, "I'll be fine. I'll also text the others and let them know to go to the Hale house." She pulls her phone out of her pocket and checks the time. "We should go now since we only have two hours until they start killing everyone in Beacon Hills."

"Is everyone here supernatural?" Tony asks.

"No, but I doubt they stop and ask questions before pulling the trigger." Y/N turns to Stiles, Scott, and Derek, "Meet at the Hale house in about 45 minutes. An hour at the most. Got it?"

"Got it," Scott affirms while Stiles gives her a thumbs up.

Derek slowly walks over to her and slides his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. Their eyes lock as they silently communicate with each other. Derek's mind is swimming with things he wants to tell her but there's too much to say.

Y/N, noticing the scared and worried look in his eyes, leans into Derek and kisses him softly, "I'll be okay. I promise."

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too."

Derek places another quick kiss on Y/N's forehead before walking towards the front door. "Let's get this over with," he grumbles as he passes Stiles. Stiles huffs in frustration as he pulls his keys out of his pocket and follows Derek out the door.

"Steve, the keys to the car are on my dresser. You'll probably need them." Tony states before sharing a look with Peter and following Derek and Stiles.

Peter hasn't said much since they were told hunters are getting ready to kill Y/N and her friends. He wants to agree with their dad and say Y/N should get out of Beacon Hills, but his savior complex agrees with Y/N and knows they should stay and fight.

Steve runs up to Tony's room and grabs the keys to the SUV. He runs back down and shakes the keys towards Scott and Bucky, "Let's go."

"How are we getting to where we're going?" Sam questions, watching Steve, Bucky, and Scott leave the lake house.

"We'll walk there," Y/N replies.

"Walk there?"

"It's not that far from here. You should know that since we were just there."

"And there's the sass I remember," Natasha smirks, loving the exchange between Y/N and Sam.

Y/N doesn't comment or show any emotion to Nat's comment. She doesn't know how to feel when they make comments about who she used to be. "Grab whatever you need and let's get going."

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

No one has spoken a word since they got into Stiles' jeep. They sit in awkward silence as Stiles drives toward Derek's and Y/N's apartment.

Peter wants to say something but he's not sure what he should say. He has so many questions he wants to ask. He wants to know everything about Y/N that he can but he's not sure if they'll answer his questions or not.

Derek can feel the nervousness rolling off of Peter. He can smell it too. He can't tell if it's because of the car situation they're in now or if he's nervous about what's to come. Derek wants to be nervous about what could happen in a few hours but he's just angry. He's angry at Kate. He's angry that Y/N, once again, has a big target on her head. And he's angry at the shit show their lives have become in just a few days.

While their lives have always been a bit of a shit show, this past week has been something else. His head can't seem to wrap around everything. Like, he's now sitting in Stiles' jeep with Y/N's other father and her other brother. He never thought that was something that would happen.

Stiles continuously glances over at Tony who's sitting in the passenger seat next to him. Maybe he should try to talk to him or get to know him. He's also Y/N's family and she doesn't plan on just cutting them out. Knowing her she's probably secretly coming up with a plan where everyone gets to be an equal part of her life.

Stiles will never admit it but Tony was right. When he saw the photos of Y/N Stark's funeral, in the back of his mind he knew it was the girl he called his sister. He never fully dove into the case of the missing Stark because he was afraid that it would just confirm that the voice in the back of his head was right. So he stayed away from it, locked it in the back of his mind, and never thought of it again. As he got older, he eventually forgot about the possibility of his sister being Y/N Stark.

"How'd you meet?" Tony's voice breaks the silence.

"What?" Stiles asks, confused about what and who Tony is talking to.

"Derek, how did you and Y/N meet?"

Derek clears his throat before answering, "Technically we met when she was trespassing on my property with Stiles and Scott."

"We were looking for Scott's inhaler," Stiles says defensively.

"You said technically. What do you mean by that?" Tony questions.

"We met more officially after she saved my life after my ex-girlfriend shot me." Derek answers. While they had technically met a few other times between meeting on his property and him getting shot, they never spoke much until she saved his life. That was also the moment that Stiles found out his sister was a werewolf.

As Derek was slowly dying from the wolfsbane-infected bullet wound, Y/N came rushing in and quickly got to work on burning the wolfsbane and getting it out of his system. While he could tell she was a werewolf when they first met, Stiles was in complete shock that she knew what to do. He wasn't even sure how she knew where they were.

After Stiles and Scott figured out Scott was a werewolf, they swore to not get Y/N involved. They obviously didn't know that she was already involved way before they were, but they just wanted to protect her from what was going on. After saving Derek, that's when she decided to tell them the secret she'd been hiding from them.

"Was it the same ex that's trying to kill you now?" Peter asks.

"The exact same one," Stiles answers with an angry smile on his face. Kate seems to enjoy fucking up their lives at any chance she can get. Every time they think she's gone, she comes right back.

"D-Do you think you could tell us about Y/N?" Tony asks quietly.

The quietness and the hesitation in Tony's voice startles Stiles. If there's one thing he knows about Tony Stark, it's that he's extremely confident and he never seems to be afraid of anything. It sounded like he was afraid to ask that question. Even looking at him Tony looks nervous.

"U-Um, what do you, uh, want to know?" Stiles questions back.

"Anything."

Stiles thinks for a moment, "Um, hmm. I literally have no idea what to say." What details do you tell your sister's first father and other brother who thought she was dead up until a few days ago?

"What's happened to her?" Peter asked, his voice full of emotion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she killed three guys and afterwards it didn't look like it affected her at all. This was before she got her memories back so I know that wasn't Hydra's doing. When we were in the woods and she got shot she acted like it was just a normal day. What's happened to her where all of this is okay?"

This has been the biggest question on Peter's mind since he found out she is his sister. While he knows that she's going to be different from the last time he saw her, he doesn't know how it got to this point. Was it one specific horrible thing or have there been a lot of horrible things? He's assuming a lot since when they met she had people hunting her, now more people are hunting her, and the other Avengers have filled him in on the deadpool situation and the other things they've learned.

He guesses he can't be too shocked about how she turned out because it's better than her being dead. She's also a lot better than he had prepared himself for. He's always had a weird feeling that she possibly wasn't dead, that they found the wrong body, but he never put much thought into it.

The last time he put any thought into Y/N possibly being alive was a year after they found her 'body.' He started thinking about it more and more at night because he couldn't shake the weird feeling. He started to prepare himself for what they could find if it was true. If she'd been with Hydra the whole time, they'd probably find her a shell of a human and being forced to do things she'd never do. What if they found her and she'd been held captive the whole time? He knows that with age she would change, but what if it was more than that?

"She's been through a lot. We all have. Everything changed after Scott got bit." Stiles says.

"We told you about Allison and Aiden and that they died but they weren't the only ones," Derek states, his jaw clenching in anger as he looks out the window next to him.

"Who are Allison and Aiden?" Peter asks. He wasn't there when they talked about them.

"Allison was Scott's girlfriend. She's also Kate's niece. She died after being stabbed by an Oni." Stiles explains. "Aiden dated Lydia at one point and he was an alpha with his twin brother. They could also merge and become this really big werewolf which was really freaky. He also died after being stabbed by an Oni."

"What's an Oni?"

"Oh, they're thes–"

"Look it up later." Derek interrupts Stiles. "If you ask him to explain everything, it will get confusing real fast."

"You said they weren't the only ones. Who else have you lost?" Tony asks.

"Well, there's Erica, who was killed by the alpha pack. And you also have Boyd, who was also killed by the alpha pack. That's exactly what it sounds like by the way." Stiles answers.

"Y/N was really close to all of them. She was there for Allison after her mom died and after her and Scott broke up. She was there for Erica and Boyd after they turned and when they needed help on full moons. She was even there for Aiden and his brother after they no longer had a pack and wanted to join Scott's." Derek says.

He remembers the sleepless nights that Y/N had after each one of their deaths. He remembers holding her tight while she wept for hours after finding out Erica was dead. He remembers her screams and cries of anguish when she ran into the loft to see Boyd dead. He remembers the night she finally broke after Allison's death after weeks of being strong for everyone else and the shoulder to cry on. He remembers how she shut down after Aiden's death and after Isaac moved away.

"The one that definitely hit her the most, even though she refused to ever let it show, was our mom's death," Stiles says.

"When did she die?" Peter's hoping he's not being insensitive or bringing up things he shouldn't be asking all of these questions.

"Uh," Stiles clears his throat as he tries to keep his emotions in check, "she died when we were really young. She died of frontotemporal dementia."

"What else has happened?" Tony asks, changing the subject.

"The hunters have consistently been hunting us so I won't bring up every instance of that. There was once a guy who was controlling a giant lizard and killing people. He eventually attacked us as well. Then Gerard took control of the lizard and that was a whole thing.

"Then there's the alpha pack who wanted Derek to kill everyone and join them. Then his other ex-girlfriend was committing human sacrifices and tried to kill our parents. There was also the time I was possessed by an evil spirit. And not too long ago, Derek was forcibly taken to Mexico and de-aged by Kate."

"De-aged?"

"Yeah, there's a lot there. I'd tell you but I think he'd actually rip my throat out."

"Wait, so not only do you have one ex-girlfriend who's a hunter and she killed your whole family and she's trying to kill you, but you also have an ex-girlfriend who committed human sacrifices?" Peter asks, confusion evident on his face.

"I don't want to talk about it." Derek quickly states.

"Dude, you really do have terrible taste," Stiles says.

"What about Y/N?"

"She also has terrible taste," Stiles smirks as Derek slightly growls at him.

They go silent once more as Tony and Peter process everything they were just told. They know Stiles just gave them the short version of some of the things that happened but they didn't sound good. Several people who were associated with Y/N and her friends have died. While the Avengers have had some close calls, none of them have yet to die.

Peter still doesn't understand what has happened to where she is how she is now. At what point did she feel comfortable killing others? While he knows she was given a choice between him and the three teens, and he's grateful that she saved his life, she acted like it didn't bother her. Maybe he just didn't see it. Even after she got shot, she was more upset by the thought of him driving Derek's car than the fact she was dying.

"How was she able to kill three people and not even blink?" Peter asks, nervously playing with the sleeves of his hoodie.

"What happened to make her kill them? We have our theory but we don't know what happened." Derek questions back.

"They drugged me with something and told her I was going to die if I wasn't given the cure. They told her she'd get the cure after she killed them. They also said their mission was to kill us."

"So she was protecting you and saved your life?" Stiles asks, confused about why Peter was questioning Y/N's choices if her reasoning was clear.

"I guess but why did it seem like it didn't affect her?"

"Let me tell you one thing about Y/N. She will never let you know how she really feels and you will rarely see her mask falter. She uses sarcasm and jokes as a shield. While you see it as it didn't affect her, I promise you it definitely did. She doesn't even have to tell me anything to know it's true. She's also very protective of the people she considers family or even a friend."

"He's right," Derek affirms. He knows better than anyone how Y/N really is. She saw the walls he built around himself and helped tear them down, and he did the same to hers.

"Well, it looks like more people have shown up," Stiles mumbles, noticing that the number of people outside of Derek's and Y/N's building has doubled since they left as he pulls into the parking garage.

"What's the plan?" Peter asks as Stiles pulls into a parking spot.

"First we're going to go up to the apartment and go out onto the balcony where everyone can see us. They need to see that we're here. All of us except for Peter. Then we come back down but we throw a blanket over Peter."

"Why me?"

"Because I said so. Everyone will think you're Y/N and see us leaving together so they'll follow us."

"You know we aren't blood-related right? Why would they think I'm her?"

"They're just going to see us trying to get someone out of the building. They'll assume it's Y/N."

"They didn't see us leave earlier. They didn't even notice us pull in now. What makes you think they'll follow us?" Derek questions.

"I've got that covered."

"When did you come up with this?"

"When you were too busy having a disgusting goodbye with my sister." Stiles quickly gets out of the jeep before Derek could hit him.

Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles' antics and gets out of the jeep as Tony and Peter do the same. They stand in silence as they take the elevator up to the loft. Once at the top, Derek takes out his keys and opens the loft door for them to go in. Peter stays in the living room while the others walk out onto the balcony.

On the balcony, Derek and Tony look over the edge and look at the crowd below. Screaming and yelling can be heard when people notice them.

"Alright, let's go," Derek says, walking back into the loft to grab a blanket to throw over Peter.

Stiles and Tony follow Derek back into the loft. Derek grabs a blanket off the couch before walking out of the loft with the other right behind them. As they get into the elevator, Derek throws the blanket over Peter.

"This is stupid. There's no way this will work." Peter says.

"We're about to find out," Stiles mutters, texting someone on his phone. The elevator suddenly dings open and they slowly start to walk toward Stiles' jeep.

"Oh my god, it's them! They're over here!" Derek looks towards the entrance of the parking lot to see Mason and Liam yelling and pointing toward them.

"Really?" Derek growls lowly to Stiles.

Stiles goes to respond to Derek before his eyes widen in shock as the group of people previously standing outside the building are now running toward them. They quickly rush towards the jeep and get in as quickly as possible. As Stiles slams his door shut, the jeep is surrounded by people yelling questions at them, taking pictures, and some of them banging on the jeep trying to get their attention. "If they bang up my jeep, Y/N's paying for it."

"I'll buy you a new jeep. Just get us the fuck out of here." Tony hisses, trying to shield his eyes from the bright camera flashes.

Stiles slowly drives out of the garage while trying not to run anyone over. Once they get onto the street, he starts to speed up and drive away from the apartment. He looks into his rearview mirror to see cars driving after them. People are also clamoring into cars and onto bikes to try and follow them. There are even a few running after them.

"Can I take this off now?" Peter asks, not enjoying being under the blanket.

"Not yet," Stiles mutters, trying to focus on where he's going and making sure they're being followed.

"Where are we going?" Derek asks.

"I'm taking them towards the edge of town. Not the one near the hunters but the other one. With the police block, I can make sure they either hold them back or send them out of town."

"What makes you think they won't just follow us back?" Tony questions.

"I know a back way."

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Everyone Scott talked to decided to stay home and prepare for if the hunters get into Beacon Hills. He had Lydia text him pictures of the old deadpool list so he knew who to talk to. Some of the people he'd never heard of or didn't know who they were but the majority of them he knew.

"How'd you become a werewolf?" Bucky asks.

"I got bit by Peter. The guy who's Derek's uncle." Scott replies, looking out at the trees from the backseat as they drive towards the Hale house. It didn't take them long to contact or find everyone on the lists.

"What about Derek?"

"He was born one."

"What's he like?" Bucky ignores the warning look Steve gives him from the driver's seat. They had a conversation where Steve told him that he needs to be nicer to Derek if they want to get closer to Y/N.

"He's broody, a bit grumpy, and sometimes an asshole but he's also like an older brother I never had."

"What's the story with him and Y/N?" Steve throws Bucky a glare as Bucky continues to interrogate Scott about Derek.

"Um, I don't really know the whole thing. I know they've been friends for the longest time. She saved his life once and I think it just went from there. Stiles told me he caught her texting him a lot at night at one point when some friends of ours died. I think that also brought them closer. I don't really know how their relationship changed from being just friends to more." Scott knows a bit more than that but he's not comfortable sharing everything with them.

Scott knows they got together sometime after Y/N saved Cora's life and around the time their parents were taken by the Darach. Cora was dying and Jennifer refused to heal her so Y/N did. They don't know how or what she did. Derek just left Cora for a second to go to the bathroom and when he came back down she was awake and healed.

He doesn't know the exact moment or what the conversation looked like because a lot was going on at the time. He just remembers after the whole Jennifer/Darach situation and while they were trying to help Malia get out of her coyote form, she was tracking down Derek and Peter with Braeden. Then when they went to the loft to check on Derek, they caught him and Y/N making out on his couch.

Bucky sighs, "Does he at least treat her nice?"

"You've seen them. I'm pretty sure you can answer that yourself."

Bucky tries not to huff in frustration. He was hoping to get more information about Derek but Scott doesn't seem willing to talk much about him. He just wants something to understand him. Steve says he thinks Bucky doesn't like him because he's exactly like him.

The car comes to a stop as Steve parks outside of the burnt-down Hale house. There are a few other cars already there but the jeep wasn't there yet. They get out of the car and follow the voices they can hear into the house.

"We can't just kill them all!" Lydia's voice rings out.

"Why not?" Malia asks.

"What's going on?" Scott asks, stepping into the room where everyone is gathered. He notices that Liam, Kira, Chris, and Mason are also there.

"We're coming up with a plan," Y/N says, standing over and looking at a map with Chris and Bruce.

"I found out that the Anuk-Ite isn't the only thing Kate has. She also brought Berserkers." Chris states.

"Great," Scott mutters, walking over to the map they're looking at.

Y/N points to a spot on the map, "This is where they are. I think the best way to attack would be to lure them out into the woods and take them down one by one."

"Why do you say that?"

"We don't know how many of them there are. If we just go in and attack, it could end badly for us. They probably have hundreds of wolfsbane bullets ready to shoot them through our heads. Even if they just get us somewhere else, the wolfsbane will take us down. We can't risk that."

"Okay. What about the Anuk-Ite and the Berserkers?"

"Try not to run into them."

"I brought mountain ash for the Anuk-Ite. Someone will have to trap it." Chris pulls out a jar of mountain ash from his jacket.

"Stiles will probably want to do that," Scott says.

"I think we should split into groups and lure them out at all angles," Y/N says, staring intensely at the map of the woods. "If we can get them to break up into small groups we'll take them down easily."

"Do we get to call dibs on who gets to rip out Kate's throat?" Peter Hale asks, stepping out of the dark corner of the room and moving towards the group gathered around the map.

"No, and even if we did it wouldn't be you. You had your chance and we all know how that went."

"What groups are you thinking?" Scott asks, ignoring Peter.

"We need a few people stationed closer toward Beacon Hills in case any of them get through. I think that should be Mason, Lydia, Bruce, and Thor."

"Why us?" Lydia asks.

"If you or Mason get shot, that's it for you. Bruce and Thor might be great for fighting aliens or killer robots but we don't need them for who we're fighting. No offense but I don't want to kill people that we don't have to." Y/N explains.

Bruce wants to argue but he can see her point. If she thinks the Hulk isn't needed, then he won't complain.

"I think we're perfect for fighting the Anu-kite and the Zerkers," Thor says, laughing a bit at the thought that he shouldn't fight.

"She's in charge so if she says your backup then your backup." Sam pats Thor on the back in a comforting manner. "What about me? Where should I go?"

"You'll go with Malia and Bucky and take the east end." Y/N points on the map where they'll go. "Kira, you'll take the north with Natasha and Wanda."

"Who's going with Stiles?" Scott asks.

"Stiles will go with Liam and Peter."

"Why do I have to go with him?" Peter Hale asks with an annoyed look on his face.

"Other Peter. You'll go with Chris and Derek and take the south end."

"Who's going with you?" Everyone turns to see Derek walking into the room with Stiles, Tony, and Peter following him.

"I'll go with Tony straight to the house." Tony hates that Y/N calls him by his name.

"Why him?"

"His suit gives him the best advantage in getting into the house against the bullets."

"What's the plan?" Stiles asks, walking over to stand next to Scott.

"We're luring them out into the woods and taking them out in small groups. That doesn't mean we're killing them, it just means we're taking them down." Scott looks at the Avengers as he says that.

Chris holds out the jar of mountain ash toward Stiles, "You're in charge of taking down the Anuk-Ite."

"So no pressure," Stiles huffs nervously, taking the jar from Chris.

"Scott, you and Steve take the west end." Y/N watches as Scott nods in confirmation. "If you need help or anything, call, scream, or howl. Whatever you feel like doing."

"And remember, don't look the Anuk-Ite in the eyes. If you're not 100% human and you look into it's eyes, you gotta hope we can kill it before you die. If you are just human, then you're dead." Chris reminds them.

"Wow, so no pressure at all," Stiles mumbles to himself.

"Is everyone ready?" Y/N looks around as everyone nods in confirmation, gives her thumbs up, or vocally lets her know they're ready. "Let's go then."

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Hello! Only 2 more chapters and an epilogue to go! Thank you to every single person who has read and enjoyed this story! This has definitely been a year to say the least. Your kind messages and comments make it better though!

While I have a few ideas for things after this story, I’d love to hear if there’s anything you’d like to see! If you want something new, if you want little mini spin-off stories of this, or if you want me to write another one that takes place a year after this or possible they go up against more Marvel villains. I don’t know. Just let me know!

I hope you all had a wonderful year! If you did or didn’t, I hope next year is even better! XOXO

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