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bvckybanres · 2 years ago

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no one told me - bucky x darcy

part one: pay attention in american history

Disclaimer: gifs not mine

All Darcy Lewis had wanted was to just get her six credit points and finally graduate with her Political Science major.

No one had told her she'd somehow end up in New Mexico following around an astrophysicist who didn't give a fuck that the rest of the world thought she was nuts, and that she'd taze the Norse God of Thunder as a result. No one had told her she'd promptly be named his 'Lightning Sister', or that her iPod would be stolen by The iPod Thief and his Robin Hood friend. Most of all, no one had told her that she'd move to New York and meet Tony Stark and his Merry Group of Friends (read: The Avengers).

Maybe if someone had told her, she wouldn't have said yes to the internship, dropped out of her useless degree and become a PA instead. Maybe she wouldn't have been running around Stark Tower playing Nerf Tag with Hawkeye. Maybe she'd have actually googled who Bucky Barnes was - maybe.

But no one had told her. And now here she was. Pushed up against a wall after shooting The Winter Soldier with a foam dart. God dammit.

The one where Darcy meets The Winter Soldier and finds out that Bucky Barnes isn't a puppy.

The Winter Soldier they called him, not that Darcy had any idea who that was until she’d googled him - which, ok, after reading about him she really should have already known since Steve never really stopped yapping on about him. Though, in her defence, he never specifically called him The Winter Soldier. It was always ‘Bucky this’ and ‘Bucky that’ and Darcy was confident enough in herself to admit that for the longest time she’d thought he was talking about a puppy he’d had back in the 40s and decided a pet dog wasn’t worth looking into.

She might have, eventually. If she finally managed to bring herself to listen to some of the stories Steve would blab on about and realise that Bucky wasn’t a puppy but a person.

(She really should have paid more attention to her American History professor in high school.)

But then she’d gone and started some nerf war with Barton before she had the chance to rub some brain cells together. And she knew it was dumb and stupid and that she was going to lose since he was the greatest marksman in the world, but Darcy was nothing if not determined. So by the time she finally realised that Bucky was a person and that he was Steve’s best friend from ‘back in the days’, well, it was too late for google to save her because she’d just accidentally shot him with a nerf gun... and then proceeded to make matters worse by running straight into him - because apparently Darcy was trying to claim the title of Dumbest Smart Person In The World.

“Shit,” she curses, right before she’s shoved up against the wall, a firm forearm resting against her throat for a solid thirty seconds before Steve and Sam manage to pull him away from her. She rubs at her neck, more out of instinct than pain. He hadn’t really been hurting her, not yet anyway. “Who’s the homeless guy?” she asks, tilting her head and focusing her gaze on Steve for an answer. He shoots her a pained look that tells her she should apparently already know this.

“Seriously?” Sam raises an eyebrow, more exasperated than Darcy has ever seen him - which is impressive, the guy always looked exasperated.

“What?” she demands, hands on her hips in the way Tasha had taught her. She doesn’t think it gives off the same power as Black Widow, no matter how much she wills it to.

They couldn't seriously expect her to know what everyone who came and went around here looked like. Although, she sneaks another glance at the homeless person, the long unkempt hair and dangerously attractive scowl on his face really shouldn't have been something she'd forget - if she'd seen him before, which she doesn't think she has. “Correction: who’s the hot homeless person?” she grins as Steve’s frown deepens.

“This is Bucky," he sighs.

This time it was Darcy’s turn to frown, hands dropping from her hips. “Wait, Bucky’s a person?” is the first thing that comes past her lips before she could bite back the question.

Steve’s pained expression only seems to worsen at that and the homeless person - Bucky, she corrects herself - twitches a little like he was suddenly interested in the conversation. Which is sort of a relief since Darcy was starting to think that maybe something was wrong with him because of how still he was standing. “What do you mean?” Steve asks in that ‘Captain America Is Disappointed In You’ voice he only ever uses on her.

Except, as her eyes slant back to Bucky and the way he bristles a little, before the barely discernible parts of his face turn down into a frown, she thinks maybe she’s not the only one who’s been on the end of that voice before.

“I just…” she trails off, glancing back at Steve. “I thought Bucky was your puppy,” she explains. “You know, back in the forties,” she waves her hand around, as though that would explain everything.

“A puppy that took girls to dance’s with me?” he quirks a brow, a little bit of amusement filtering into his expression.

“Hey, I don’t judge. I just assumed that was how you met girls,” she shrugs.

“I told you about how I went to live with him,” he says, growing more and more agitated.

“You can’t expect me to listen to everything you say, do you?” she tries to defend herself.

“You made me talk to you when you first got here. Went on a whole spiel about how it was basically your job,” Steve emphasises.

“Well, you talk a lot,” she could have sworn she heard a small snort pass through Bucky’s lips at that. “And I’m always just off Jane or Science Bender hours when you drone on about the good old days,” she glances over at Bucky’s left arm as she says this, wondering how exactly it works. The inner mechanic that used to help her dad put cars - and just about everything else - together itches to pull it apart.

Steve wants to say something else, she knows he does with the way he purses his lips and glances towards Bucky before letting out a sigh. “I expect this kind of behaviour from Barton,” he says instead, his Captain America voice back again. “But you? Really? You're meant to be a scientist. You're meant to be smarter about these things,” his eyes flicker towards Bucky again and Darcy knows Bucky sees it with the way his body tenses up while Steve rubs tiredly at his face.

She tries to feel sorry for him, and she manages it for a couple of seconds, she really does. But then she remembers the envelope filled with glitter he’d sent her last week and instead all she does is shrug, “it’s my day off.”

“Come on, Rogers,” Sam tugs at his arm before he can say anything else, nudging him in the direction where all the science labs were kept.

“Where are you guys heading?” she asks, frowning a little.

“To get Bucky settled,” Steve replies evasively, which only serves to annoy Darcy.

“Where?” but no response comes, and instead she finds them all resolutely avoiding her gaze. “Fine, don't tell me. I'll find out eventually,” she promises. “Not even Tony can hide things from me.”

Sam snorts in agreement before they tuck tail and continue on down the hall. She considers following after them but she knows she wouldn't get very far. Even if Steve wasn't a super soldier and Sam wasn't a stealthy war vet, Darcy wasn't really a quiet person so to speak.

She's completely forgotten about Barton at this stage, which is why when he jumps down from the rafters above her and shoots her with a foam dart she screams out loud and jumps a little too high. “Dammit, Clint,” she glares at him.

“I win,” he grins with a shrug. “Wanna make a bet about how long it'll take for The Winter Soldier to come out and play?”

“No,” Darcy scowls at him. “That's mean and Steve will kill us when he finds out, because he will find out. Go bug Tony about it,” she pauses. “If he hasn't already started his own wager, that is,” she corrects herself.

Barton’s off within a couple of seconds, demanding JARVIS tell him where exactly Tony was (‘working on the Iron Man suit in his lab, sir’). She rolls her eyes, heading towards her own room in the Tower to do some much needed - and arguably far too late - googling.

The Winter Soldier. Darcy hadn’t understood the name at first - but then again, she’d thought he was a homeless person when she’d first seen him - so that wasn’t really saying much.

Scrolling through google - and little bits of information that she’d hacked her way into - however, was giving her a better idea on the whole matter.

She knows the name was developed partly because he’d fallen off a train in the mountains of Russia into never ending snow, and partly because he’d been frozen in ice on and off for seventy-five years, but Darcy sees it differently.

She keeps finding her eyes trailing off towards his metal arm in the videos and pictures - of which there are thousands - on the internet and she can’t stop the fascination building within her.

He’s definitely The Winter Soldier, she thinks to herself, watching as he brings his arm up and blocks a barrage of bullets that were heading his way. Though her attention isn’t on the bullets bouncing away from him, but on the way the sun hits the metal, spots of white glittering a little as though they were snowflakes. And Darcy thinks she can another reason why he’s known as The Winter Soldier, what with his long hair and metal arm and eyes as empty and cold as a city street in the middle of a snowstorm.

He also kinda reminds her of Snow White - except she doesn’t think true loves kiss will fix him this time. Although? Steve did talk about Bucky quite a bit and he was very secretive about how he’d talked Bucky into coming back - she’d hacked into the communication server and read back through the coms between him and Sam - and he never did go on any real dates...she snorted a little at the idea, she’d caught him staring at her chest more than a couple of times.

Still, it’ll be fun to tease him.

She turns back to the information pileup in front of her and presses play on the next video she’d come across. It was one of him on the bridge and she thinks that maybe she sees a second of recognition flicker in his eyes when he looks at Steve, and he’s suddenly not as cold as he was before. And if she hadn’t been interested in Bucky Barnes before, she certainly was now.

She doesn’t know how long she spent combing her way through various videos of Bucky - it seemed the internet was littered with them if you knew what to search (or hack, in her case), from scenes of him fighting a bunch of Hydra agents, to innocent shots of him picking out some plums from a street corner fruit stall. But she knows it’s been awhile when JARVIS interrupts her long overdue research to call her into a meeting.

Darcy knows it’s about Bucky because she’s usually never invited to these sorts of things - what with not being a super person - unless there’s some sort of huge change that will affect everyone in the building. That includes her now since Tony had basically insisted she move in after the whole Ultron Ultimatum. And the Mexican Mess. And the Dark Elves Fiasco. And The New York Meltdown... basically just after a lot of Bad Shit… and she’d eventually caved. Free rent? Yes please.

But right now, the only significant change she could think of was that Steve’s best friend who’d died back in the forties, hadn’t actually died and was in fact back after being brainwashed into trying to kill him (and anyone who got in the way).

He’s probably suffering from some major PTSD, Darcy thinks to herself as she waits for the lift to take her down to the meeting room.

She wonders briefly if Bucky will be there when she arrives, but she immediately snorts at the idea. If there's one thing she knows about Steve it's that he's very particular about how things are done, and she has this strange sensation that he's not really ready to share Bucky with anyone yet.

Darcy doesn't really blame him. She doesn't know what she'd do if she'd been separated from Janie for seventy five years and then found out she was alive but tortured the entire time.

And she's only really known her for a couple of years now - ever since Thor decided he'd drop down to earth...with his brother causing major havoc that she’d somehow ended up in the middle of. (All she’d wanted was to get those damn science credits and maybe visit New Mexico, but noooo - at least she’d met Janie).

She can already hear everyone arguing when she's halfway down the hall, and rolls her eyes. She assumes from the random exclamations and angry huffing that not everyone had taken the news of Bucky’s arrival well.

She pauses before the door wondering whether she should knock or just enter when it's swung open for her. Darcy’s eyes widen in surprise and she's almost run over by a worried Clint - which is not a good sign, she decides.

“Oh, good,” he says. “I was just about to come looking for you,” he tries to force a smile as he moves aside to let her in.

“That bad?” Darcy raises a brow as she follows him into the room.

“You've no idea,” he lets out a breath, dropping down into a seat and pulling her down into the one beside him. “I almost want to turn my hearing aids off so I don’t have to deal with Mum and Dad fighting,” he tells her referring to Steve and Tony.

Tony is sitting towards her right and with one glance at him she knows that he's not happy.

“Uh,” she looks over at Steve. “Is everything alright?” she asks nervously.

“No,” Tony cuts her a side glance, eyes all fire. But, because she's spent so much time with him ever since he’d forced her to move into the tower, she was able to see the panic and pain behind his eyes. She looks away from him and over to Steve who seems to be having the same reaction.

Darcy lets out a sigh, the only conclusion she can come to is that Tony is Not Happy about Bucky. “What's wrong?” she asks in her best Talk To Me Like Adults Or Else voice. So much for a day off.

“He can't stay here,” is all Tony will say.

“Where else is he meant to go?” Steve demands back fiercely, and from everyone else's reactions she knows this isn't the first time they've had this conversation today.

Clint drops his head onto the table while Sam pulls out his phone - probably trying to look up some of the notes he's been given on how to deal with stubborn war vets, and Natasha just stares neutrally between the two, leaving Darcy to try and diffuse the situation. It was probably why she'd been called in the first place, now that she thinks about it.

As unqualified as she was, somehow everyone seemed to listen to her. They’d all started gravitating around her within weeks of her arrival, and somehow she’d become the official unofficial fixer of all things Avengers.

She wishes Jane and Thor were here instead of doing who knows what on Asgard, they’d at least be able to help her. Or Wanda and Vision, though she guesses that teaching Wanda to control her powers would be more important than sorting out an argument between two friends. Bruce was who knows where, but she thinks that’s probably for the best given the situation, and everyone else had day jobs they had to be at - or school in Peter’s case.

“He should be in prison,” Tony hisses angrily, bringing her attention back to the problem at hand. “After everything he’s-”

“It wasn't him!” Steve slams his hands on the table, making her jump. She doesn't think she's ever seen him so worked up before.

“Alright, can we start from the beginning?” she asks as calmly as she can, there were parts of the story she was missing, she was sure of it.

The two men turn to look at her simultaneously and it kind of scares her how similar they are to one another.

“He killed my parents,” Tony says in explanation, the fight suddenly disappearing from his body as his shoulders slump and the angry mask on his face gives way to torment. She notices Steve flinch in response from the corner of her eyes. “I didn't even get to say goodbye,” Tony murmurs just loud enough for her to hear.

Well.

She hadn’t been expecting that. Maybe she should have dug a little deeper in her hacking - uh, googling - earlier.

“And you blame Bucky?” she asks carefully, looking for confirmation that that was what they were speaking about.

“He killed them,” Tony nods, while Steve sits in silence, biting his lip to keep from saying anything he might regret.

“Bucky killed them or The Winter Soldier did?” she asks, wording her question purposefully. She’d spent enough time with a shrink after Mexico and the Dark Elves, and everything in between, to have picked up a few tricks.

“Does it matter?” Tony shot back sharply. “They’re the same person.”

“Are they though?” Darcy asks softly. “He wasn’t in control of himself at the time. According to all the files online, he was being used, tortured into complying.”

“But it doesn’t make it ok,” Tony insists.

Darcy nods back in agreement. “No, it doesn’t,” she pauses, glancing around the room in contemplation and wondering if she would be overstepping with her next statement. But she ploughs through anyway.

“Technically you’ve all done things that aren’t ‘okay’. You and Bruce accidentally made a robot that went all murder-y,” she says to Tony. “You broke about a hundred different laws and put people in danger while trying to protect them,” she says to Steve. “The two of you are super assassins and I think that speaks for itself,” she nods to Clint and Tasha. “Bruce turns into the fucking Hulk when he’s angry and practically tore apart a country the last time you took him out. My point is,” she says. “You’ve all done some pretty stupid shit and gotten a lot of people hurt as a result - there’s no sugar coating that, or pretending it didn’t happen. It’s a fact and there’s hundreds of videos online of you guys almost destroying the world while trying to save it.”

“But -”

“And I get it,” she ignores Clint’s attempt of interrupting. “They were your parents and it still hurts, but Tony, you can’t blame Bucky for it. You can’t say he deserves to be locked up for following orders after having his goddamn brain thrown in the blender for seventy five years. I get it when you say you don’t want him here, I do, but where else is he supposed to go?”

“We should also consider what will happen if we set him loose. The world is filled with easy triggers,” Natasha adds - whether helpfully or unhelpfully Darcy wasn’t too sure, but she ran with it anyway.

“If he’s here at least you lot can keep an eye on him and keep him in check, but out there...well,” she shrugs. “Don’t you want a clear conscious?” She asks them all sweetly.

“My conscious is never clear,” Tony mutters, though Darcy can see the iciness in his posture melting away as he took her words in.

“No one’s ever is,” she shrugs, squeezing his leg under the table as a show of solidarity. She makes a mental note to bully him into seeing a shrink again later.

“He stays locked up,” Tony gives in. “And he’s not to be let out until a full evaluation is completed and we’re all completely sure that he’s no longer A Murderbot. Or until I say so,” he shrugs and Darcy knows that that’s the best possible outcome they were going to get.

“Where are you going to keep him?” she asks a little too casually.

“Nice try, Darce,” Steve cracks a little smile. “But that’s classified.”

“Sorry, Shortcake,” Tony agrees, shooting Steve a quick but unmistakable nod - she watches as Steve’s shoulders relax that little bit more. “Need to know only. It’s for your own safety.”

“Boo,” she pouts, crossing her arms across her chest and watching as every male’s eyes flick down quickly before shooting back up to her face again. Including Steve’s. She smirks to herself, yeah, probably no True Love’s Kiss for Bucky. “I’ll find out the hard way, I guess.”

Sam snorts from across the table. “Don’t think any of us are doubting that, Darcy.”

“Wanna start a pool on how long it’ll take me?” She grins wickedly, wagging her eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m not a betting man, but if I were, it wouldn’t be against you,” Sam quips back with his own grin.

“I can't wait to meet him, I have loads of questions for him when he’s no longer all hobo-like and his brain is less mush-like,” she claps her hands together excitedly. “Do you think it’ll be long?”

“I’m not sure I want you spending time with him,” Steve mutters.

“Why? I’ll be perfectly safe, you guys are the Avengers!”

Steve only frowns back at her. “Believe it or not I’m more worried about him than I am you?” he poses it as a question, probably trying not to offend her. But it only serves to make Darcy preen at the not really a compliment-compliment.

“Oh, we believe it,” Tony snorts, but his words aren’t spoken maliciously and he continues it with, “I’m still not convinced there was only friendship between the two of you.”

“That’s what I said!” Darcy nods furiously.

“JARVIS look into that for me.”

“Right away, sir,” JARVIS responds robotically.

It's Monday afternoon when Darcy finally decides to visit Bucky.

She’d hacked into the SI database the day after Bucky had arrived and found out immediately where he was staying. And ever since she's been telling herself that he needed time to adjust before she sprung herself on him, but that was only half of the reason why she’s waited two days to see him.

After the meeting they'd had on Friday, Steve had basically cornered her on her way to the lab to explain a few things - ‘since you thought Bucky was a puppy this entire time,’ he’d said, disbelieving expression still all over his face. And really, Darcy has felt a small bubble of anxiety growing in her chest ever since.

It isn't that she’s scared of Bucky or worried about her own safety - Darcy doesn't seem to have much of a fight or flight reflex, which is somewhat worrying.

She’s anxious because, well, she’s a mother hen and she really wants to help him but she's not too sure how successful she's going to be. And after everything Steve had explained to her, she doesn't want to make things any worse.

But, she knows that at this point she has no real impulse control and it was really only a matter of time before she snuck into the cordoned off area of Stark Tower.

Besides, she’s an all or nothing kind of girl and she’s already decided that Bucky will be one of Her People, and something tells her that he probably wouldn't appreciate people coddling him - or, this Bucky wouldn't. She's not too sure how 1940s Bucky would've felt about it, but from what Steve has told her, she thinks maybe he'd have savoured the attention.

She wonders if she could hack her way into slipping her name into the database to allow her access through her Stark Industries ID card but thinks this might be a good time to try some of the tricks Clint had been teaching her.

She regretted it almost instantly.

Crawling through vents was not as fun as Clint made it out to be and Darcy instantly decides that she’s never doing this again; not willingly anyway. At least she had the foresight to wear leggings instead of a skirt.

She doesn’t have to crawl very far - thank god - but it takes her longer than she’d like to pull aside one of the panels and slip out of the way too tight space. She doesn’t know how Clint does this every day.

By the time she manages to find her feet back on solid ground, Bucky is already watching her closely.

She blinks back at him owlishly before slipping her eyes off him and looking around the space that seems way too small for someone his size - which is ironic considering the cage was built to hold the Hulk.

She frowns at the lack of space and furniture.

She’d wondered what kind of changes Tony had made to the place to make it more livable, but she frowns at how little work has actually been done.

She can see there's a bed and a bathroom and a tiny desk in the corner, but she thinks there should probably be more for it to be less prison-like and more comfortable.

“Miss Lewis, you don’t have access to this area,” JARVIS spoke, startling her from her musings.

“Keep this between us please, JARVIS?” she shoots the computer a sweet smile, fluttering her eyelashes up at him. She’s not too sure how intelligent Tony has made his toys, but she’s found that JARVIS likes her well enough to keep her secrets most of the time - even when he sometimes didn’t approve.

“Mr Stark thought you’d try and sneak down here, so he’s has some safety protocols in place,” JARVIS warns her and before she can do anything a bunch of self manned Iron Man suits fly up and situate themselves in every corner of the room.

“Honestly, Tony,” she mutters, eyeing the red and gold suits in exasperation.

“They’re for your own protection, Miss,” JARVIS replies, making her jump. She forgets sometimes that JARVIS is everywhere and she really hates it when the computer replies to her when she wasn’t look for a response.

“Of course they are,” Darcy rolls her eyes. “Even if they aren’t necessary,” she mumbles under her breath, hoping JARVIS wouldn’t pick up on it; or respond when he inevitably did.

Darcy makes her way over to the smaller room within the room - she refuses to call it the Hulk Cage now that someone is actually living in it - and pauses in front of it. One of the walls is completely glass, allowing her to see directly into the room, and for Bucky to see directly out of it.

When she glances back inside she notices that he’s still staring at her - and hadn’t moved at all from where he’d been standing when she’d entered the room. And if he’s anything like Steve, then he’s probably heard every word she’s said and every step she’s taken with his freakishly good hearing.

She wonders briefly if all his senses have been heightened - wonders if Steve’s have been as well, and makes a mental reminder to ask him. She considers asking Bucky but doesn’t think that’s the best first impression she can make - or second impression really.

She supposes as far as first impressions go, neither one of them has gotten off to a good start. He did try to strangle her after all, and she did shoot him with a nerf gun.

She doesn’t realise she’s staring at him in complete silence until he shifts a little under her gaze, shaking her out of her musings. She’s ready to say something when he speaks first.

“Steve says I need to apologise,” he speaks slowly, his voice gruff, as if he’s not quite sure of his words. “For trying to kill you,” he correctly guesses from the confusion on Darcy’s face.

“Oh,” she says, eyes widening. This certainly hadn’t been what she was expecting. “It was more my fault,” she waves him off and Bucky doesn’t look like he was going argue with her, like he thinks it was her fault too.

And, ok, yeah maybe he had a point.

Darcy’s lips twitch as she tries not to smile. Bucky didn’t miss the reaction, his eyes flicking down to her mouth and back up again suspiciously. “I always thought you were a puppy,” she blurts, all of her professionalism flying out the window. She knows Tony and Steve and everyone else will probably watch this at some point and she subconsciously glares at Bucky as she imagines them laughing at her.

“Are you disappointed that I’m not a puppy?” Bucky asks, sounding a little confused. As though it has been a while since he’s spoken so many words all at once, like he wasn’t sure of what he was saying or whether he should be saying anything at all.

“What? Oh, sorry,” she apologises quickly, realising she’d been basically trying to burn a hole through him. “I was thinking about something else,” she admits. “I’m not much of a dog person anyway,” she waves him off, taking a couple of steps forward before pausing.

She pulls a bag of candy from under her sweater and pulled it open. “I’m glad I didn’t lose this in the vents,” she points above at the roof. “Would you like some? I googled you, and wikipedia said you had - have? - a sweet tooth,” she babbles.

Bucky doesn’t respond. Not that she minds, Darcy can talk enough for the both of them.

“Is there anything you wanna try? I can probably sneak you some snacks before Tony and Steve figure out I’ve found out where they’re keeping you.”

Bucky simply blinks back at her.

Darcy remains unphased.

“How long do you think they’re going to make you live in there?” she asks, eyes lighting up when he merely shrugs at her. She hadn’t been expecting much of a response.

“Sounds shit,” she furrows her brow. “I’ll bring you some pillows, and maybe some books. Ohhh, I bet I can sneak in a StarkPad,” she continues, not really paying much attention to Bucky anymore as she planned. “Tony might take it away when he finds out you have one though, which will totally suck, dude, those things are great. But I’m still gonna bring you some stuff to make this place less sad. Maybe even a shaving kit so you’re less hobo-like. That way people won’t think you’re a homeless person who broke in when they come to visit you.”

“Mr. Stark won’t be very happy with you if you come back, Miss Lewis,” JARVIS interrupts before Bucky even has a chance to react. “Neither will Captain Rogers. They have asked you to stay away,” JARVIS reminds her, voice reprimanding - for a robot anyway.

“Well you can tell Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark that they can shove-”

She’s cut off by an alarm sounding loudly around the room. The sudden sound had caused her to jump in surprise and Bucky had leapt forwards, hands poised to attempt to break through the glass in an effort to do what, she wasn’t sure. Maybe to escape.

“Fucking dammit,” Darcy curses, hand held up to her chest as she glares up into free space. “Not again. JARVIS do I have to go to a panic room?” she quizzes, wondering what was going on outside this time.

“No Miss Lewis, you should be fine in here,” came the robotic voice.

“Thanks, J-Man,” she blows him a kiss and then turns back to Bucky. “Can you believe the nerve of these guys?” she snorts rhetorically, rolling her eyes at Bucky who simply stares back at her uncomprehendingly. “There’s an attack on the building at least once a month. And each time the bad guys just get dumber and dumber.” Darcy clears her throat. “So anyway, since we didn’t really get off to the best of starts. My name’s Darcy, I’m the unofficial Ruler Of The Labs and Secret Scientist Herder.”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

“But between you and me,” she lowers her voice even though she knows there’s no one around to really hear her. “Tony pays me the big bucks to basically just feed and water Janie, Bruce and himself. Sometimes though, when I’m bored and The Heroes are desperate, Tony lets me hack into government agencies to stop the world from ending. I mean, you should have seen what the last alien invasion did to New York. The black suits were ready to level the city, sent a missile and everything. Honestly,” she shakes her head. “Men and their toys.”

She continues to babble on, munching on the bag of candy in her hand. “Are you sure you don’t want any?” she offers Bucky again.

He still doesn’t say anything.

Darcy sits down on the floor in front of Bucky’s glass wall and continues to chatter away, not really caring that he wasn’t saying anything at all, she could talk enough for the both of them.

Hello, I started writing this yeaaaaars ago and have ~4 parts typed and ready to go. I plan on writing maybe another 2 parts to wrap it up nicely with a little bowtie on top. I’ve prev posted it on AO3 so you might have come across it on there at some point as well.

ANyway, I would love to hear your thoughts if you’re interested in sharing them thank you

#bucky x darcy #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x darcy lewis #bucky barnes imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fic #MCU #james bucky barnes #james bucky barnes x darcy lewis #writing #My writing

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justsomeclintasha · 3 years ago

Text

(Early Shield Days)

Black Widow. Natalia Romanova. The most dangerous person in the building.

But right now he doesn’t see any of that. It’s shortly after 2a.m. and he’s been alerted by the guards. Peering through the bars on the window of the door, she appears to be sleeping. It’s restless, one fist clutching the sheet above her. Sweat gleams on her forehead. She’s trembling.

“She was screaming, but she didn’t wake,” the guard informs him. Martin, or Marlin, or something, he thinks absently. He nods and pulls out his key card.

“Go take a break. I got this.”

“Do you want my gun, sir?”

“Not necessary.”

“I really should-“

“Dismissed. Now.”

By the time he enters her room, she’s thrashing under the covers. She’s mumbling in Russian, but it’s too low for him to make it out.

“Natalia. Nat. Come on, wake up.” The second he touches her shoulder her eyes snap open and he’s on the ground, looking up at her. The air is knocked from his lungs. Stupid, stupid. Recognition flashes in her eyes and she scrambles back against the wall, her chest heaving. She pulls her knees to her chest and curls into a ball that’s almost child like.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, I-“

“Fuck, I didn’t. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t-“

“Nat. It’s okay. Breathe.” He sits up slowly and she stares at him, eyes wide and panicked. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have startled you.” He’s apologizing to her?“It’s okay. You’re safe. It was a nightmare.”

She lifts a shaking hand to wipe the sweat away, seemingly unaware of the tear tracks on her cheeks. She suddenly feels very small. The archer, Clint, brought her in just a few days ago. Joining Shield is her only way out at this point. Going back to her handlers is a death sentence. She has to do this right. Throwing him to the ground in the midst of a nightmare probably wasn’t a good impression. She wonders how long it will be until someone else comes in the room to punish her for it. The thought sends a shiver down her spine. “Natalia?”

“Natasha,” she whispers, her nails digging into her arms.

“What?”

“Natalia belongs to them. I like Natasha.”

“Natasha. Can I move closer?” After a moment she nods, letting him scoot in front of her on the floor. His eyes are soft. Sitting cross legged, he sets his hands on his knees, not attempting to reach for her or touch her at all. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Just a nightmare. It doesn’t matter. Are you going to punish me or someone else?”

“Punish you for what?”

“Attacking you.” He offers her a smile, leaning his shoulder against the frame of her bed. His posture is relaxed, but something in her gut tells her it’s for show. If she made a move, he would be ready.

“No one is going to punish you. It was an accident. It’s not even going in a report. As far as I’m concerned it didn’t happen.”

“You’re going to lie to your superiors?”

“Nah, I’m just not going to tell them everything.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he replies with a shrug. “You should try to go back to sleep. I brought you something. I’m going to get it out of my pocket.” She watches carefully as he removes an iPod and hands it to her. “There’s a playlist on there of ambient noises- rain, thunder, stuff like that. Thought it might help.”

“Thank you.”

“You okay, Red?” A nod. “I’ll bring breakfast in the morning. Do you like pancakes?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. A hand extends to her and she takes it, letting him help her to her feet. He lets go almost immediately.

“Then we will find out. Pancakes and bacon for breakfast, and orange juice. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” He waits until she sits on the edge of the bed before walking to her door. Reaching to switch off the nightlight, he pauses, then leaves it on. She doesn’t correct him. “Goodnight Natasha.”

“Goodnight.. Clint.”

#clintasha #clintasha fanfic #clint barton x natasha romanoff

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belyypauchok · 3 years ago

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“pain and suffering is every day and we are both still a trained killer. except I'm not the killer little girls call their hero.”

stats ;;

Name: Yelena Belova

Alias: White Widow

Age: 30

Occupation: Assassin (gone rogue)

Gender: Cis woman

MBTI Type: ESFP (The Entertainer)

Height: 5'4″

Weight: 125lbs

Sexuality: Grey-asexual

Affiliations: The Red Room, Natasha Romanoff (?), The Nomads (?). Herself.

Species: Human

powers / abilities ;;

Assassin: Yelena has been trained as a Black Widow assassin since youth and, as such, is at nigh peak human condition. She has been trained for most of her life in the ways of spycraft and combat. She is a master spy and assassin, known for being one of the deadliest child assassins the world has ever seen.

Weapons Proficiencies: Yelena has high proficiency with firearms, knives and a staff, although she prefers to fight hand to hand and has a style of combat that is particularly direct and brutal - heavily influenced by Sambo.

Pilot

Marksman

Multilingual.

headcanons;;

SNACKS: Yelena loves chocolate. She doesn’t eat it much any more - she is concerned with her conditioning and her work and that is all she is allowed to think of but, in those three shining years with her family, she grew a wonderful affection for the stuff and either of her parents would often find her sneaking an extra bar after dinner time with wide, innocent eyes and a charming smile.

ESCAPE: She likes to read - mostly fantasy actually. It’s likely a form of escapism but every time she’s in a different airport, she will pick up a cheap paperback. It’s a good cover but it also gives her a wonderful chance to immerse herself in a world that isn’t her own for a little while.

MUSIC: Even now, Yelena loves folk rock music and has her own iPod - an old, battered model that she bought fifth-hand at a market on a whim. It is her sole rebellion from the Red Room, aside from the photos she has kept safe all these years, and she often loads it up with new music and uses it to keep herself focused and motivated during morning runs. No one at the Red Room knows she has it - they frown upon any sign of individuality from their Widows.

traits ;;

Loving : Yelena has always felt everything so very deeply, one of the few traits that the Red Room looks down on her for. She loves with a ferocity that would startle anyone who knew her in the throes of her conditioning and she is willing to accept any love that people give her in return, even if she is unlikely to trust it. This mostly applies to familial and platonic love - she craves it deeply considering the fact that she has never truly had it. She’s got a very deep well of emotion that she yearns to tap into, even though she doesn’t know quite how to reconcile this yearning with what she has been taught in the Red Room.

Humorous : As she has started to grow past her conditioning, Yelena has come to learn that she has a wickedly sharp sense of humor. She is deadpan and sarcastic and legitimately very funny, always ready with a quick remark to disarm a situation or to dissolve tension. A lot of this comes very naturally; she does not intend to be funny quite in this way but her attitude drips with sarcasm and it often surprises others. It is a useful trait but also, she will come to find that she genuinely enjoys making people laugh. It’s a damn sight better than making them scream or cry, as she is also very adept at doing.

Fierce : Perhaps an expected trait of a Widow. Yelena is fierce and, while this could be seen as a drawback considering how ruthless it makes her, she considers it to be one of her finest talents. She is single-minded and focuses spectacularly on her job, no matter what it is. She pursues her goals with a clear, laser sharp focus that means she almost always succeeds. It definitely keeps her in the good books at the Red Room and so, she cultivates this ferocity as best she can. She has a strong talent for hyper-focus and can be downright scary when she puts her mind to something.

Cynical : But being raised in a facility designed to breed the love and kindness from you does not make you a sunshine optimist. Instead, Yelena is darkly cynical and often does not believe there is ever a light at the end of this tunnel for her. She has no real hope for her future and can be downright bleak when it comes to the outlook of her life, something that is only to be expected when considering her past. It’s rarely something that she says aloud but there are arch remarks here and there that make one thing very obvious - she goes into every mission expecting that it could be her last.

Amoral : Similarly, she has been taught to kill since she was six years old. The Red Room had no space for moral compasses and so, she has learnt to discard her own. She does still have a sense of justice to an extent but this does not align with most people’s. She has no qualms with violence or killing and likely will not for a long, long time - a quality that will no doubt cause a ruckus. Her own code of justice hinges on the idea of always allowing people agency, since she has never had her own. Death is not the greatest crime to her; control is.

Impetuous : Yelena is also prone to speaking without thinking and has taken many punishments for it over the years. Yet she cannot seem to shake the habit, even now. When she feels so deeply, it is all too easy to get swept up in her own emotions and to speak before she has truly thought about it. She often makes errors in judgement about what is appropriate to say to others. Yelena is able to keep secrets about world intel but god forbid she thinks before telling someone exactly what she thinks of their outfit.

past ;;

[TW: Yelena’s bio contains mention of kidnapping, child abuse, mental conditioning/brainwashing, forced sterilisation and murder]

Born to a poor, destitute couple in Russia, Yelena was never destined for a life of greatness and yet, it seems that life had darker plans than anyone could ever comprehend for her. When she was only three years old, her true parents looked away from her for one moment when she was in their front garden. Yelena was snatched up at that moment by a passing Red Room operative. The Red Room was looking for children after all. Perhaps in another time, she would have simply been cycled through the system and Yelena honestly doesn't know if that would have been more cruel or not. As it stands, she was taken for an operation in America. Used as the cover story for Melina Vostokoff and Alexei Shostakov, she was to be raised as their youngest child - and to reduce suspicion of the couple. She was to gain an older sister, someone who would watch over her and protect her and bring her the greatest joy.

Yelena got to live in what she thought was bliss for three entire years. She was a delightful child - bright and intelligent and quick to laugh. She endeared herself to Natasha especially over those three years and they bonded as only sisters can. Then came time for the operatives to return home to Russia. And Yelena was to accompany them. When they landed, Natasha fought viciously to keep her sister by her side and Yelena has never forgotten the wild, desperate look in her sister’s eyes as she was taken captive and shoved into a cargo container with the rest of that year's intake of girls.

So Yelena, the innocent child, was to die. She was cycled into the Red Room and put through the harrowing conditioning to make her into a Black Widow. She suffered great trauma at the hands of the facility and yet, she cannot even remember most of it due to the mental conditioning that accompanied her physical training.

Like all Widows, she was given training in a range of deadly arts, sterilized at the first possible opportunity and then trotted out to do their dirty work. Her first assassination mission was when she was a little under 14 years old. She became a prolific and dangerous assassin, doing the majority of her work under the guise of an innocent, unassuming child.

She was a child. Exploited and traumatized and none the wiser for it. Yet, throughout it all, she clung to the memory of her mama and papa and her best big sister and how they hadn't left her. With every time she was subjected to the chemical conditioning, the memory becomes harder to keep hold of. It is vague now, their faces blurring a little, but she holds on all the same.

Recently, she was sent on a mission to eliminate a defector from the Red Room - a Widow gone rogue. When she came across the Widow, she was in possession of several vials of a red gaseous substance. In the fight, one of them shattered and Yelena was exposed to it. This substance negated the effects of the chemical conditioning.

It was like being dunked in a vat of cold water. For the first time in years, Yelena feels awake.

And now she knows she has to get word to Natasha. Other girls are suffering like they did. Yelena is awake now and she can’t let that continue.

present ;;

Yelena has recently been sent on a mission to eliminate a defector from the Red Room. In her pursuit, she was exposed to a substance that broke the chemical conditioning that she had been under. Now in possession of a few vials of this substance and with the growing terror of what she had done at their whim, she has tracked down the one person she thinks might be able to help; Natasha.

#srisingintro #{ MOTHER RUSSIAN BALLERINA }

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suckitsurveys · 4 years ago

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What song are you listening to right now? I’m watching BoJack Horseman.

Have you heard of the band Repeat Offender? I don’t think so.

Are you currently talking to/texting/instant messaging anyone? Not really. Mark and I are in the room together but we’re both doing our own thing and saying stuff to each other every once in while.

What’s your name? Hannah.

How old are you? 31.

If you could do anything right now, what would it be? Lose like 80 lbs.

Are there any words that you just absolutely hate? Trump.

Are you hiding something from someone? Nah.

Have you ever been looking for something and it was already in your hand? Yes.

Is there anything about you that not many people know? Sure.

Who was the last person you commented on MySpace? Hahahahahaha.

Is the last person you texted your friend? Yes.

Have you ever seen someone you knew and purposely avoided them? Yes.

Have you been to the mall in the last 2 weeks? I haven’t been to a mall since the pandemic started.

What was the last movie you saw? I haven’t watched a movie in a while.

What was the last song you listened to? Closer by Tegan and Sara is currently playing in this episode of BoJack.

What do you like best about yourself? I’m organized and fun lol.

How long until your next birthday? It’s 5 months away.

Are you mad at anyone right now? Always.

What was the last book you read? Blerg.

Do you like summer? Yessssssssssssssssss.

Are you single or taken? Married.

Have you ever kissed someone with braces? No.

If you could change your eye color, would you? No.

Do you buy songs on iTunes? Is iTunes a thing still?

Are you overly sensitive sometimes? Yeah. Do you smile at people you don’t know? Yeah. With masks on that’s hard to do lol.

Do you feel guilty right now? No.

Have you ever had a crush that you tried to stop having? Uh huh.

Have you heard of the band Nina May? Nope.

Do you think long distance relationships are worth it? Yup.

Do you tend to judge people? I think we all do to some degree.

Valentines Day: Love it or hate it? It’s really whatever.

Are you American? I am.

Who do you want to see in concert? Billie Eilish.

How many songs are on your iPod? I don’t have one. Do you play any sports? Nope.

Are your parents together or divorced? My father is widowed.

Do you prefer black and white or color photographs? Both are nice.

Do you eat breakfast? Yes.

Do you still trick or treat? I take my nieces.

Do you use metric or imperial? Metric.

Have you ever skipped class? Yes.

Did you like this survey? It was fine.

#surveys #quarantine

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 5 years ago

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Music composed - Clint’s day

A/N: Day four of the avengers tickle fic week and we keep counting. :) It’s my favorite day of the week since it’s Clint Barton’s day. This features Clint and Thor, also Steve, Tony and Natasha.

“I despise long car rides.” Steve couldn’t help the small startled reaction at Thor’s sudden approach in between the two front seats of the car. He gave him a half-sympathetic, half-ironic smirk - yes, only Steve Rogers could pull that mixture off - before focusing on the road again.

Natasha had called shotgun, so obviously she was on the passenger seat. Her eyes were fixed on the trees, an almost dreamy look in them.

“Some music. Might help.” Tony had talked in half sentences ever since they had started the ride from the Tower to SHIELD head quarters. He was squeezed to the left window, Thor’s giant shoulders taking up most of the space in the middle of the backseat. Clint was pretty quiet on his seat behind Natasha. Like her he was gazing out of the window.

Steve noticed that he wasn’t wearing his hearing-aids. He hated it when Clint left them out. You just never knew what the day might bring. Therefore he stretched his right arm out behind Natasha’s seat and squeezed Clint’s closest leg, making the archer jump in his seat. Clint wrapped his hands around Steve’s with a desperate smile and tried to pull it off his sensitive body immediately. Steve had totally forgotten about Clint’s ticklish legs for a second there and couldn’t help himself. Smirking he continued tweaking and prodding at his knees, getting more and more defensive kicking out of his friend. Clint didn’t like making noises when he couldn’t hear himself. Therefore he made a whiny face at Steve after several tweaks had brought him close to laughing. Steve’s hand retracted then, so the supersoldier could tap his ear with a meaningful look.

Clint rolled his eyes and grabbed the hearing aids out of his jeans pocket to plug them in. “You feel better now, tickle monster?” He asked, exasperatedly.

Steve grinned, obscenely proud of that name, and raised his thumb appreciatingly.

“Tell me again. Why didn’t we take the jet?” With his phone in his hand Tony tried to distract himself from the situation he was caught in. Even though his eyes didn’t meet Steve’s, the supersoldier could hear the frustration in his voice. Ever the impatient genius.

Despite being a major believer in “eyes on the road” Steve just couldn’t resist the urge to roll them. “We can’t just grab the jet and fly everywhere, Tony. It’s literally just an hour’s drive to SHIELD. Taking the jet for ten minutes? Doesn’t that seem a little off, even to you?”

With the glare of the century Tony met Steve’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Music. Now.”

Natasha sighed and turned on the radio. A male voice summed up football game happenstances. The Black Widow immediately turned the radio back off. She searched for a CD, a tape, an iPod and didn’t find anything. “Whose car is this anyway?”

“Bruce’s.” Steve responded, getting annoyed with the general hostility.

Tony snorted. “Not surprised there isn’t much pop lying around.”

“Bruce prefers the classics.” Thor agreed - obviously having stolen that line from some previous conversation that had taken place among the Avengers who knew what the classics were. ... What were the classics? “You mean Pink Floyd?” Natasha asked and looked back.

“I mean...” Thor hesitated, realizing he had forgotten the name of the composer Bruce had told him about. He chuckled insecurely and ... guessed. “Beehiven.”

There was a beat. Steve furrowed his brows in wonder, Tony looked up from his phone, Natasha turned around to face him disbelievingly. And Clint? This man tended to lose all self-control when he was around his friends. He only took a second to process Thor’s mistake and then burst into a bubble of laughter. It was always incredibly infectuous hearing him laugh. Steve tried to cough it away, while Natasha shook her head with a smirk. Even Tony had to grin.

The god of thunder actually blushed and pushed Clint against the window with one giant forearm. “Do you want to experience my wrath?”

Hawkeye giggled cheekily, not very impressed with Thor’s threat. “I’m so glad I had my hearing aids in!!” Then he was lost to another laughing fit.

“Isn’t Beehive correct?” Thor dropped his hands, only to raise them angrily again when Clint practically started crying with laughter.

“BEEHIVE!!” Natasha hid her grin behind her hands while Steve desperately tried to remain serious. Tony was shaking ever so lightly on Thor’s other side, covering his smile with his phone.

The god of thunder did not like being laughed at. What he absoutely double-disliked was the urge to join into the laughter. Imagine the picture of a quite thoughtful young man (Clint) with a rather traumatizing deafening event in his recent past suddenly breaking out into the laughing fit of the century. It could get to you. Even if you were the reason for mentioned laughing fit. Thor figured this was the perfect moment for two things: 1. keep the archer laughing and 2. make him pay for his moment of shame.

“Oh, you want something to laugh about? How about that?” Thor grabbed for Clint’s legs the way Steve had done before, kneading and squeezing away at them, forcing the most adorable squeaky laughter out of the archer,

“NOOHOOHOHO!!! I’M SOHOHOHORRY!!! B-BUT BEEHIVE!! BWAHAHHAA THOHOHOR STAHAHHAP IT!!! THAT TICKLES!!!” Clint really started squealing when Thor leaned in to move these big hands that could cover his entire thigh with one grasp up his sides and ribs, getting at literally every spot that kept Clint in stitches.

“I have seen the Captain do that to you many times before. I know just how much it tickles you.” Thor announced, his voice softening already at the noises he was tickling out of his friend.

Steve rolled his eyes softly - yes, Steve could do that softly - and allowed himself a short glance in Natasha’s direction. She was beaming. Clint’s laughter was really a music genre of its own. Tony watched the scenario happily, finally getting some distratction from the bleak car ride.

“HEEHHEHELP!!! HEHELP ME!! I’VE GOT- EHEHEHHE NOHOHOHTHING ON HIIIM!!!” Clint cried out in laughter as Thor’s fingertips furiously wiggled into his armpits, causing him to basically fidget into Thor’s lap in an attempt to protect himself. Which worked out great of course, leaving Clint’s middle out in the open, inviting Thor’s fingers to dive all over his belly. Natasha chuckled when one of Clint’s purple converse hit against her headrest. Steve wondered whether Clint’s seatbelt would hold. Obviously they were not going to help him.

“This’ll teach you not to laugh at me, you little worm!” Thor growled playfully, dearest fondness in his words as he watched the archer flail and shriek in his grasp. Clint had by now managed to trap Thor’s hands under his arms, regretting it badly when he realized that the fingertips caught in his armpits still tickled more thoroughly than he could handle as they wiggled around as much as they could. He couldn’t move his arms away though since the ticklish pits would then be completely out in the open. The sensations were already overwhelming when Thor decided to add even more to the game. With a shriek Clint tried to push his shoulder to his ear when he felt Thor’s beard tickle at the back of his neck.

“NOHOHOOH NOOOO!!! PLEHEHHEASE!!! DON’T DOHOOH THAT!!! I HAHAHAHTE IHIHIT!! THOHOHOR!!”

“I am not doing anything!”

“YOU WILL BLOOW ON MY NEHEHHECK!!!”

“No I won’t.”

Steve knew that Thor was totally going to do it. The god of thunder was copying all of Steve’s tickle attacks, from the squeezing of Clint’s legs to the coming raspberry on his neck, the one thing that always finished the archer. As you might notice Steve was in fact the tickle monster of the team. It had become his go-to-move when he didn’t want to hurt anyone with his strength yet still have some fun with them. Only months ago, Clint had repetitively provoked Steve into those tickle fights during sparring matches, always glowing up with giggles whenever Steve had playfully overpowered him. This had stopped after his accident. The loss of his hearing had taken some of Clint’s humor away. To hear his carefree booming laughter now was a pretty emotional experience for the team after they had spent so many hours worrying.

Thor gave a fake regrettable sigh, a smirk on his features. “You’re right, Clint, I totally will.”

With a disbelieving shriek Clint raised his arms, doubling over with laughter when Thor’s fingertips started dancing around in his armpits. It tickled so much that he could not focus on protecting his neck anymore. The raspberry on his nape felt like lightning bolts were sizzling into his nerve system - and maybe they were which would have been a really mean way to intensify the ticklish effect. He could barely breathe anymore as tears started to glisten in his eyes.

“EHEHEHHEE NOHOHOOT THAHHAHAT!!”

“You mean this?”

“ThOOHOHOOHOHR!!” Clint complained, howling with laughter as the second raspberry hit its mark just underneath his ear. His eyes were squeezed shut by now as he kicked and twisted around in his seat, laughter going silent. Thor could have gone on forever.

If it hadn’t been for Steve sending Thor a reprimanding glance in the rearview mirror, reminding him that Clint was only human and could probably explode when tickled too much. Thor acknowledged it with a chuckle and leaned back slightly, slowing down his fingers on Clint’s sides, but not quite taking them away yet.

“I believe you have learned your lesson, youngling.” Thor exclaimed extra formally as Clint slumped down into his seat with a sharp intake of breath still fidgeting and giggling a little at the remaining spidering tickle traces Thor was drawing down his sides.

“Then staahahhahap pleehhease *EEK*, Thohoor!!”

“I will. But first, tell me the true name of the composer I have mentioned.”

Clint’s laughter turned up a notch at the memory which Thor copied by tickling him a little harder again. “OKAY OKAHAHHAY!! IT’S BEETHOVEN!!!”

Mercy was finally upon him as Thor took away his hands and made a low recognizing noise at the mentioning of that name. “Yes. Beethoven.”

“Beethoven.” Natasha added unnecessarily as she turned around to get a better look at her best friend who was gasping, wheezing and just about shining from all the laughter. “You good there?”

Clint giggled, still a little hysterical, but in the best way possible. He gently nudged Thor who showed him the biggest smile in return. “I’m really good.”

“Does this mean,” Steve asked ironically, “I can “cheat” again during our training sessions?”

“You will do no such thing!” Clint exclaimed without any harshness or seriousness or really any kind of persuasion in his voice. “And leave away the air quotes, Cap! It is cheating when you tickle someone into calling defeat!”

Steve just hummed with a smile.

Tony raised his voice. He looked happy. “I have to say, this is not the music I had asked for. But it was definitely some kind of music Thor has just composed there.”

Clint crossed his arms in front of his chest, two strands of hair falling into his forehead, making him look a little tousled. “Well, we will not hear it again!”

Steve, Tony and Natasha all gave little disappointed “Awe”s at that making Clint roll his eyes sheepishly. He put his head on Thor’s shoulder. The tall thundergod gave him a fond look and gently patted his hand in return.

They drove on in companionable silence when suddenly Clint started snickering again. He was trying to suppress it, but it just wouldn’t work.

“Spill it, Barton!” Tony demanded, narrowing his eyes at him.

“I just thought that...” Clint shrinked when Thor sent him a threatening glance, but he continued giggling.

“Yes?” Thor exacted in an overtly soft voice.

“Oh, you know, who has composed this music Tony just spoke of?” Clint dared to go on with sharing his thoughts.

“Well, it was I!” Thor said, furrowing his brows.

“No. It was Thor Ode’n’Song!”

Steve hit the wheel as he started laughing at that, Natasha and Tony joining in quickly. Clint nervously looked at Thor’s hands as he himself chuckled at his own joke. But Thor couldn’t keep up his glare for long. Soon enough he was laughing just as much as the others.

None of them would have expected the car ride to be as cheerful as it had turned out to be. And all that thanks to a laughing archer who had fortunately had his hearing-aids plugged in.

Steve was right. You just never knew what the day might bring.

#avengers tickle fic week #tickling #avengers #ticklish!clint #thor #tony stark #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #clint x thor #mentions of brotime between clint and steve #god i fear i went a little overboard with this #;___;#i hope you guys will like it

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forever-more-never-again · 6 years ago

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Slow Crescendo (A Natasha request)

Requested: @inshitsuna-kage

Word Count: 5K (Uhh...oops? :) haha)

Pairing: Natasha X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, torture, beatings, kidnapping, angst

Request: Heyy, first of all: I really like your Natasha Masterlist, I enjoy reading them so much and they‘re my favourites! Thank you so much for this amazing work you‘re doing!!! So may I request another Natasha x fem R? Natasha started a while ago taking ballet classes again to have a little time out of her every day life being an Avenger once or twice a week. R is a beginner and has her first lesson, in which she feels a bit anxious and is very shy. Of course she’s amazed by Natasha’s elegant and smooth moves. However, the other members of the group don’t care about the newbie and ignore her. But Natasha sees potential in R and wants to help her improving by giving her private lessons to which R agrees. Getting better and better at dancing, they‘re growing closer and developing feelings for each other, but neither of them wants to admit it yet. Until one day, when Natasha has built up the courage to confess her feelings for R, but R doesn‘t show up for her weekly private lesson and doesn‘t answer her phone. Even a few days after, there‘s still no sign of R and Natasha begins to worry and switches into Avenger mode, determined to find her... Now it‘s up to you to decide and to find out what happened to R and how the story will end. It can also include angst, hurt, torture, injuries,... I‘d prefer a sweet and fluff ending, but as I said: it‘s up to you! Sorry for this long request... If this is possible, thank youu!!!

a/n: I had so much fun writing this! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Sometimes she wondered why she put herself through the torture. True, she was good. And true, it was a part of her. But it brought back awful memories.

Memories of guns, bullets, tears, sweat, whips, chains, emergency rooms, syringes, blood.

So much blood. Cracked feet, broken toes, chapped lips. Split skin.

Her mind was a dizzy mess as she went on pointe and pivoted with the music.

The small classroom was empty. A common factor. As soon as the other students saw her enter the building, they scattered.

Nervous… or scared, she wasn’t sure, to be in the same vicinity as the Famed Black Widow. Ballerina Killer. Ex-Assassin. Current Avenger.

Her recent good deeds did not wipe the memories of her past from the civilians of New York...Or the world for that matter. No matter where she went, they would judge her.

The song built up tempo and speed, urging Natasha to spin feverishly across the room, her feet aching from staying on pointe, but she dismissed the pain. Pain was a momentary weakness. Ignore it, and it would go away.

And then she did something she hadn’t since she had been a tiny little girl in the red room, fresh from the orphanage.

She stumbled.

The reason was nothing other than shock.

The door to her little classroom had opened. The sound loud in the small space, ringing out above Beethoven's orchestra playing from Natasha’s ipod.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I was told there was a class here at two.”

A soft voice. A voice that held none of the contempt, wariness, or hero admiration that Natasha commonly heard when people spoke to her.

Turning, trying to pretend she hadn’t just stumbled mid spin, Natasha faced the person who had interrupted her dancing.

“Unfortunately I think that class was canceled today. I was told I had the room for the rest of the day.”

The person at the door didn’t look the least bit perturbed. Staring at Natasha in a foreign way, making Natasha want to fidget under their gaze.

“Well. I saw a bit of you dancing before I caught you unaware. You’re pretty talented. Are you an instructor here?”

And there it was. The reason why Natasha was so confused by their strange behavior. She felt her eyes widen and her breath catch. They didn’t know who she was.

Natasha chuckled, a defensive action, not sure what to do, “No. I am not.”

The person moved in, the door closing behind them. Natasha tensed. No one willingly put themselves alone in a room with her. Not even her teammates.

Steve once said it was because of an energy that Natasha gave off. Deadly. Filled with intent. That made people nervous to be around her.

The woman who walked into this little classroom, though, didn’t seem to mind. They sat down against the wall, underneath the beams and began pulling out their ballet slippers from their bag.

Natasha hesitated. One foot tapping against the worn wood floor as she watched their lithe fingers lace up the faded pink velvet.

“Uh. Your class isn’t here today.” Natasha repeated.

The figure glanced up at the red headed strange woman. A shy smirk on their lips. One that caught Natasha off balance again.

They spoke clearly, “I know. But I figured, I’m here. Why not practice. I know I’m horrible. I could use the experience.”

Natasha fumbled, moving towards her ipod resting on the music station, soft russian lullabies whispering through the air, “Alright. I’ll get out of your hair then.”

The person stood, eyebrows lowered in confusion, “What? You’re leaving?”

Natasha had never had this much trouble forming words. Why was she fumbling in front of this person? She faced down deadly assassins and Hydra combat shooters on the daily. This was just an ordinary girl.

“I figured you wouldn't want me intruding.” She stated. The confusion she had been trying to hide, inching into her tone.

The woman laughed, and Natasha swore her heart stopped. The sound was so carefree. And innocent. Something she hadn’t heard in forever.

“You are obviously talented. And I don’t want to stop you just because I obviously forgot to check my email. Why don’t we practice together? You can help me. Teach me how not to be a klutz.” Spoken so lightly. So Softly.

Spoken by someone who didn’t know that the feet that were toned and could go on pointe and hold it for two hours were the same feet that could incapacitate a man and snap his neck in two seconds. Spoken by someone who didn’t know that the practice and obedience from ballet

came from years of being locked in the red room. Teachers barking, yelling, flinging whips and chains.

Spoken by someone innocent.

Natasha didn’t want to taint that. And yet, something was urging her to stay. An inkling in the back of her mind. A guilty pleasure. A shameful one.

Here was someone who didn’t cower when Natasha took a step forward. Whose eyes didn’t reflect fear and hope, an odd mixture.

Someone who saw Natasha as simply...another person.

“[Y/n].” The woman stuck her hand out, an easy grin gracing her face.

And Natasha found her hand reaching out and clasping the warm skin, found her face mirroring that silly little grin that made her heart beat just a tad bit fast, and made her mouth form the name she held hidden in her heart from her childhood,“Natalia.”

~~~

It had been six months since that first meeting. [Y/n] had ended up canceling her dance classes. Instead, she stuck with training with Natasha. Or Natalia as she knew her.

“[Y/n]!” Natasha’s carefree laugh, one that had become common during their weekly ballet trainings, rang across the room, “Remember to keep your eyes on a single point. It helps you stay in place.”

Natasha reached down and pulled you up off the floor.

You grinned sheepishly. You had been doing pirouettes and had a bad habit of getting dizzy and then falling over. Your klutzy nature standing out.

Grimacing, you rubbed your posterior. Dressed in comfy sweats and a tank top, didn’t provide you much protection against the worn wood floor of the dance studio.

“Why don’t you show me again?” You asked innocently. In reality, you just wanted an excuse to watch this amazing red headed woman dance across the floor.

Her movements were like water and fire. Hot and cold chasing each other as her arms swam through the ocean air and her feet danced like flames. Her face completely relaxed, as if she went to a different world when she was dancing. Lost in the freedom of movement.

You often thought that showing up for that class and finding Natalia instead had been faithful intervention. So that you could meet this beauty who had a grace unlike any other.

Of course, you kept your weekly dance studio meetings a secret. Your family and friends would want all the details, and for now, you wanted to keep Natalia a secret.

The way your heart beat a tad faster in her presence. The way her warm vanilla scent followed you home, her laughter ringing through your head, you knew you were in deep trouble.

And trouble often had a way of finding you.

“[Y/n]..are you paying attention?”

You sharpened your gaze onto the green emeralds staring at you in fake accusation.

You shrugged, “Oops.”

Natalia laughed, “You’re never going to learn how to do a simple Assemble.”

You eyed your shoes. The bandages wrapped around your poor toes and heels as you put your feet through their paces. Who ever knew Ballet was so hard?

“I think my feet are grateful I can’t do that yet.” You admitted.

Natalia gripped your hands, determination in her eyes, “Aww. Come on. It’s easy. Follow me.”

And you copied her movement. The subtle sound of violins filling the air. The music flowing through you.

One foot up on pointe, then the other. And then flat. One foot up, and using your body, launching into air. Bringing your legs together, twisting, and then landing in fifth position.

Natalia clapped her hands, “You did it! See!”

You collapsed onto the ground, giggling, “Agh! That was too much. I can see the end.”

A dark silhouette fell over your face, blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights hanging in the studio.

“Oh you dramatic baby. Up you go.” And Natalia pulled you back up.

The end of the practice snuck up on them. And soon, you and Natalie where sitting against the cool glass mirror, untying your shoes.

“Natalia.” You spoke her name. The woman hummed to show she heard you, though she didn’t lift her head from her hands and feet.

You leaned your head back, keeping your eyes on the red hair that was up in a bun, sweat causing small strands to stick to the back of her neck and against her cheeks.

“What do you do outside the studio?”

You didn’t miss the way she tensed as you spoke your question into existence. One that you had been working up to ask for months now.

Though you spent twice a week with Natalia in the studio. You barely knew anything about the woman. And your heart desperately wanted to know more. Selfishly wanted to know.

“Why are you asking now?” Voice just a tad too cool to be calm. A tad too controlled.

You frowned, blinking, looking down at your feet, “Well. We see each other a lot. But we don’t really know much about each other. We never even hang out outside the studio.”

Natalia sighed, brushing back her hair. Looking over at you, her heart panged tightly. She didn’t want to puncture the bubble that surrounded the both of you in the dance studio. The one that made you treat her like someone...normal. Because you didn’t know who she was.

“I know plenty about you.” Natalia said instead, flashing a grin, forcing playfulness into her voice. “I know that your favorite color is [F/c] and your favorite food is [F/food] and that one time your little cousin guilted you into a trip to Coney island and you threw up all over the carousel.”

You would have normally laughed at the memory. But now you just frowned deeper. Eyebrows pinched together as you stared over at Natalia. Her forced smile. Her eyes dim.

“Why are you so scared? Do you think I won’t like the true you?” You asked. Soft. Hesitant. Afraid of the answer.

Natalia stood abruptly. Rocking you back as the temperature seemed to drop drastically.

The red head spun to you, hands up in the air, like she didn’t know what to do with them, her face desperate, “Why now? Why are you pushing this now? Isn’t it enough to spend a couple hours with you?”

You stood up slowly, cautiously. “Is it that bad to want to know the woman I spend time with? To want to be friends outside of ballet?” You wanted to be more than friends, but you knew now was not the time to address that topic.

“I know the Natalia who smiles when I stumble. Who laughs without thought when we attempt new moves. Whose eyes crinkle in the corner with concentration when picking out a song. Who likes the color red and hates the color blue. Who thinks hotdogs are disgusting and that ice cream should be considered a breakfast food. But,” You drew a deep breath, holding the trembling gaze across from you, “ I don’t know You. I don’t know what you like to do. What you think about the world. What made you a good ballet dancer. Why your face hardens when the song changes to that one Russian one. I don’t know what you do for work. Or what you had for breakfast or dinner last night. I don’t even know your last name!” You shouted in frustration.

The green eyes hardened. And ripped away from your gaze.

And then Natalia left the studio without a word. Taking your breath from your lungs. The door slamming shut on your heart.

~~~

“You seem down Red. I thought today was your ballet day?” Clint hopped up onto the counter in the avenger’s common kitchen.

Natasha paused her search for milk in the fridge to throw a glare at the archer. He simply smiled at her.

Sighing, she averted her eyes, scanning the contents of the fridge, “I decided not to go today.”

Clint grunted. The sound irking Natasha. She gritted her teeth and slammed the fridge shut. Clint jumped and looked at her in surprise.

“I just….” She didn't know what she wanted. Things to go back to before [Y/n] had tried to discover who she was. Back to before she met [Y/n]. Back to before she joined the Avengers and things got so damn complicated. She didn’t know.

“Uhh...you okay there Nat?” Clint placed a hand on her shoulder. Eyes narrowed in concern.

Natasha drew in a calming breath, “Do you ever meet someone who drives you crazy and feels like home but makes you so damn scared at the same time?”

Clint’s eyes melted into understanding as a soft smile graced his face, “Yeah. I found that with Laura.”

Natasha spoke softly, like she was talking to herself, “They don’t know who I am. And I’m so damn scared.” Then, Natasha turned to him, a plea in her eyes, “How do you handle it? The double life? The secrecy? The fact that she might look at you differently if she found out about all the blood you spill and the people you hurt?”

Clint knew Natasha wasn’t talking about him and Laura.

“You just take it a day at a time. When I told Laura about my past, I knew there was a risk of her leaving me. Of her not wanting anything to do with me.”

Natasha laughed, the sound caustic and harsh, “Thanks.”

Clint continued on, “But I also knew that she needed to have that choice. Leaving her in the dark was bound to hurt her just as much as putting everything out into the open. I knew that for her to really love me, I had to give her the choice. To see all of me, all my scars, all my mistakes, and for her to decide if I was worth it.”

Natasha groaned, burying her head into her hands, “I might have screwed it up to much.”

Clint laughed, “Nothing is ever screwed up too much to fix. You just have to do it as soon as you can.”

“How are you so wise and yet so dumb?” Natasha asked with a wry grin.

Clint shrugged, “All part of my charm. Now, I suggest you go to that studio and explain yourself to this person who has stolen your heart.”

Natasha punched his shoulder, “How do you know it’s someone from the studio?”

“Why else would you avoid it today? And I’ve seen the way you light up before you go and the way you glow when you come back. Go get them. Let them see you. The real you. It’s been building up for months to this.”

Natasha muttered, a smile on her face as she walked out of the tower, “A slow crescendo.”

~~~

“[Y/n]! Sorry I’m late! I have something to tell...you” Natasha trailed off as she burst through the studio doors.

The class was empty.

“[Y/n]?” She knew she was an hour late. And [Y/n] might not have showed up after how they ended things last week.

Except that her dance bag was sitting there against the mirror. Her tennis shoes sitting next to it.

“[Y/n]?” Natasha walked back out to the reception area. Looking down into other classes. People stared back at her in fear and awe.

Natasha cringed, their gazes filling her with sorrow. They were not the carefree, loving eyes of [Y/n].

She walked up to the receptionist, the older lady giving off a dazzling smile of hero worship as Natasha stood in front of her.

“How can I help you Dearie?”

Natasha ignored the shine in the lady’s eyes, the lips turned up a tad too much in excitement. “Have you seen [Y/n]? Their stuff is in our room but I can’t find them.”

The lady nodded, the smile turning thoughtful, “You just missed them. Walked out of her about fifteen minutes ago with a couple of nice looking gentlemen. Said they were her brothers taking her out for lunch or something. It was odd though, she was still wearing her ballet slippers and one of her brothers had an arm wrapped around her waist.”

Natasha stilled halfway through the lady’s rambling. [Y/n] didn’t have brothers.

“These men,” Her voice harsh, frantic, cut through the lady’s rambling, causing her to startle and freeze, “What did they look like?” Natasha didn’t care that the people in the waiting area seemed to hold their breath at her raised voice or that the receptionist started to shake.

She stuttered as she spoke, no longer looking at Natasha in awe, “Uh...they...they were older...and they….they wore suits. One had black hair. No...Brown. And the other was blonde. I overheard them talking. They had accents….Not...not sure what kind.”

That was all Natasha needed.

“Fuck!” She screamed, pounding her fist against the desk.

A gasp behind her. She turned to see a mother covering her young daughter’s ears.

Natasha flushed in embarrassment, “Sorry.” She whispered. And then she was running. Running out of the dance studio. Running. And hoping. Hoping she could find [Y/n] before Hydra did anything to her.

~~~

“Mädchen. You will tell us what you know.” The chillingly soft accented voice seeped into your ear.

You had trouble focusing on it. Your arms straining as your hands were tied and hooked to something above your head. Your feet barely touching the ground. Scrambling for purchase on the cold cement. Your ballet slippers now covered in grime and blood.

Dimly, you thought, you’d have to buy new ones.

If you ever got out of here.

You had been attempting to do an Assemble alone, furtively checking the door to see if Natalia would show up after what had happened at the end of practice last week. The door had opened, and you had turned with a relieved smile, ready to apologize for prying, when you froze.

It wasn’t Natalia who walked into the room. But two men, outfitted in suits. A brooch settled against each tie.

Their eyes glinted dangerously in the light.

And your body went into flight mode. You ran, trying to get past them. But they caught you too easily.

One wrapped their arm around you, a hand covering your mouth as you tried to scream for help.

Their voice was rough, a laughing lilt, “We’re going to walk out of here. You’re going to tell anyone who asks that we are your brothers taking you for lunch. If you don’t…” You stiffened as you felt the unmistakable barrel of a gun press against your ribs, “We shoot. Verstehen?”

You didn’t understand the word. But you knew they wanted some sort of reaction. So you frantically nodded your head, scared, terrified.

What was happening? No one got kidnapped from a dance studio in broad daylight. Who were these men? What did they want with you?

You walked out of the studio. One of the men still keeping an arm around you, the gun pressed against you, hidden by their suit coat.

“Oh. [Y/n]. Where are you off too? You still have the room for a few more hours.” Miss Greshlen, the receptionist, peered at you and the men.

With a trembling breath, and the nudge of the gun against you, you flashed a wobbly smile at the elderly woman, “Uh, these are just...my brothers!” You cursed your voice, it was an octave too high, too light, “They uh, they’re taking me out to lunch.” You silently hoped that she would notice something was off.

But no, she simply smiled, nodded and waved, “Well have fun dearie!”

And then you were ushered out into the street and into a van.

“What do you want with me? Where are we going? If it’s money, you can have everything I own. Please.” Tears began to spill down your cheeks as your body finally processed what was happening.

“Shut up!” One of the men growled, and then you felt something slam against your head and all was dark.

You woke up, however long later, arms tied above your head, feet barely touching the ground, and blood dripping from a gash in your forehead.

That had been an hour ago. The men had returned and started questioning you about the Avengers.

You didn’t understand. Why would you know about the Avengers? You were just a normal civilian.

“I grow weary of your ineptitude. You will tell us what the Black Widow is planning!” A sharp punch to your gut.

You cried out, hoarse scream pushed out past chapped lips.

The faint pain was one among countless others. Bruises and cuts littered your body.

Your sweats now no longer grey, a faded pink as they stained with your blood. A puddle of red sticky liquid under your feet, the substance a disturbing feeling on your poorly clad feet. Your slippers ruined in red.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You cried, tears stinging the cuts on your face, You pleaded with the men, “Please! I’ve never met the Black Widow! Or any avenger! I’m just a normal woman! Please let me go.”

Somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, you knew they wouldn’t let you go. You knew enough about kidnappings and crimes to know that since you had seen their faces, they would not let you free to tell your story to the cops. But you couldn’t dive into that depressive thought. You had to maintain the thought that you could possibly get out of this dingy warehouse and see the sun again.

“Lies! We have seen you, been monitoring you, little Mädchen. We know you have been plotting with the widow under the guise of dance classes.” A slice as a knife glided over your cheek.

Another broken scream fell from your lips. Eyes closed as tears fell without notice.

“That’s not...that’s not…” Your words halted as your mind snapped. Natalia. You couldn’t give her to them.

These deluded men with red brooches and hungry eyes.

You spat at the man, a flicker of glee as the spit landed on his cheek.

He raised a hand slowly, wiping it off. A nod to the man behind you, and you screamed in agony as something blunt and hard slammed against your spine.

Your arms strained, your shoulder joints screaming for release as your feet momentarily lost their purchase and all your weight was hanging from your arms.

“The red head. The one who joins you in the class. Natasha Romanoff. The Widow. What is she planning!?” The man roared, his face getting close to you. His breath cascading over you, making you miss the soft vanilla smell of Natalia.

Natalia. Nat. Natasha. The Black Widow? Your mind ran furiously as your thoughts scrambled.

Was Natalia the black widow? Was that why she never spoke of what she did? Why she was always so surprised to see you walk through the door every week for your lessons?

Why hadn't she told you who she was? Did she think you would fear her? Treat her differently? You didn’t care about any of that.

You cared only for the soft way Natalia danced. Her free laughter and loving smiles.

And now, you would die without seeing her dance one last time.

You gritted your teeth and raised your head to stare the man in the eyes. His black depths holding a terror that shook you to your core. But you didn’t lose your sudden nerve.

“Rot in hell.” You hissed through your teeth, yous glaring daggers.

You would never give up Natasha. Natalia. Whatever her name was. You had realized you loved her. And you would die protecting her.

“Kill her.” Two words. Spoken calmly. As he stood up from his crouch and walked a few paces away.

You kept your glare on him. Your body tense as you sensed movement from the man behind you.

“Goodbye...Natalie. I love you.” You whispered as your eyes slid shut, waiting for the world to go dark in death.

“I love you too, [Y/n]. Hang in there!”

A voice. Spoke loud, clearly. With love and fear and hope.

Your eyes flew open, wildly looking around for the source.

There.

Fighting hand to hand with the man before you. A flash of red against black. A blaze of emerald green.

“Natalia!” The relief and love and prayer flying across the warehouse to her.

She spared a glance to you, and you smiled at the familiar smirk on her face.

And then she returned her attention to the man fighting her.

You couldn’t give up now. You couldn’t let Natalia do all the work.

Using your momentum, ignoring the way your body screamed at the movements, you spun around. Surprising the man behind you.

“Hello.” You said, syrupy sweet. And then you stood on pointe and leapt into an Assemble. As you went down, you stretched out a leg and kicked the man in the head.

He stumbled backwards, hand holding the gun dropping to his side as he clutched his head.

You laughed, the sound slightly delirious. From blood loss, no doubt. But you had more important things to focus on then the blood pooling on the ground below you.

All those ballet lessons paid off as you stretched one foot straight in front of you up towards your hands.

Using the chains binding your arms, you gripped them and pulled yourself up and over them.

Stabilizing in a split mid air above your tied hands, you surveyed the man below you.

Natasha was still handling the other one.

The one you had kicked had regained himself and brought the gun up, eyes wide as he realized you had managed to move from dangling like a damsel to using your core to hold you up above him.

A smile, “Goodbye.” And you let your strength go as you fell.

Your swing had a good amount of power behind it as you sped towards the man. His eyes comically wide as both of your feet, straightened to en pointe, knocked him in the chest hard enough to send him flying backwards.

The gun clattering to the ground by your feet.

“Little Bitch!” The voice too masculine, too furious, to be Natalia’s.

You turned and saw the man wiping blood from his mouth. Natasha knocked aside. His gaze on you.

Your heart started to pound. You had to get out.

Your feet, slick with your blood, your slippers tattered and covered in grime, struggled to grab onto the metallic gun on the ground.

“Come on, come on.” You muttered to yourself. Eyes darting between the approaching man and your feet.

Once your feet found purchase around the gun, you once again used your core and the chains and folded yourself in half, your feet touching your hands. Hands closing around the gun.

You quickly, using touch to feel the gun, turned it so that you fingers were on the the trigger and it was pointed down at the man.

He grinned, blood lining his teeth, his eyes demented. “Little Mädchen. You really think you can pull the trigger? You’re no killer.”

You smiled, “Maybe not. But she is.”

And the man turned, startled, as Natasha barreled into him, her hands around his neck.

A gut wrenching snap, and he was dead.

You rearranged the gun and pulled the trigger, head hunched, eyes closed.

Chains fell and you collapsed onto the ground, the bullet breaking the chains that were holding you up.

Warm arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a lap.

“[Y/n]....oh my god. I’m so sorry. So Sorry.” Tears. A voice too sad. You didn’t like it.

Smiling up at her, you spoke as calmly as you could as the adrenaline wore off and your wounds became apparent in their pain, “Hey, now I know who you are. Natasha.”

Natasha laughed wetly, sniffling as she stroke a hand softly down your cheek. You winced slightly as she traced the cuts.

“I shouldn’t have gotten mixed up with you. You wouldn’t be here if not for me.” She declared. Blaming herself.

Dimly, you were aware of sirens coming closer. Natasha probably told the cops when she had found you.

You frowned, grabbing ahold of her hands in yours, drawing her gaze to yours, “No. Don’t. I wouldn’t trade the time with you for anything. I got to know Natalia. Not Natasha. And I got to see a side of you most probably don’t. I love you.”

She smiled. Eyes the brightest you had ever seen, “I love you. I was so scared. Scared of what you would think of me if you ever found out who I was. When I realized you didn’t know me...I wanted to stay in that bubble.”

You laughed, coughing when your ribs protested against the action, “Trouble has a way of finding me. Can...Can we still practice together? And maybe...after class...go out for coffee?” You asked weakly. Hopefully. Carefully.

Natasha smiled, leaning over, she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “I’d like that.”

And then you laughed, “I guess I’m also a killer ballerina, huh?”

Natasha laughed with you, “You still have a long ways to go.”

You smiled up at her, at the woman who you had fallen for, the one who only you knew, “I’m looking forward to it.”

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t @mialeelavellan @rainydaysrnevergrey @platonic-plots @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @ayyidkeither @mcuimxgine @mythixmagic @chas-z @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger

Natasha Taglist:

@ludwigvonbaethoven @hanjiscience-slut @kitten-q-p @morbid-gaymer @honeybadgerwhodoesntcare @sunnyandtwisty @zoeyknight @kurlyafro @thewomanofwonder @5aftermidnight @myfemininelesboworld @rizamendoza808

Avengers Taglist:

@jadepc

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vision-sky · 6 years ago

Photo

Taser reference sheet

this is my spidersona! ive had her before the movie even came out lol

info:

Name: Katlyn Alex Rhodera (pronounced road-era) Gender: Female Sexuality: Straight Dimension: Earth-42

About her suit: Her suit is completely black, apart from the glowing patterns on it. The patterns tend to pulse in a dull glow, that becomes brighter when she uses her powers, she can make it turn off. It glows brightest around the eyes and the centre of the spider pattern on her chest. Her suit is also water proof, and is made up of hundreds of thousands of little hexagon patterned material, it's not bullet proof. There is also no A.I inside the suit, as most of them don't anyway, only the current Tom Holland Spider-Man. Her lightning is often seen dancing around the glowing patterns on her suit, she does this for fun. her suit is also equiped with a "wing suit" which has blue transparent "wings" that fold out from the side, this allows her to glide. About her powers: She can jump very high, heaps higher that all the other spider people, on the odd occasion she can miscalculate where she is going to land, as its kind of difficult. Her stick ability is very strong, she can stick and unstick on will, and if something tried to pull her off what she was sticking too while she was sticking, it would be very difficult as she can stick pretty good if she wants. Her lightning ability is very strong, she can shoot multiple blasts of lightning from most areas of her body, the most powerful being from her hands. It takes her time to charge up for a super powerful blast, and less time for a weaker blast. Her lightning has many different variants and ways of shooting it. Chain lightning: a very powerful blast of lightning is shot, it can bounce from person to person, hitting multiple people standing near, jumping from one person to the next until it dies down, it takes time to recharge. It can easily take out a largish group of enemies. It is her most powerful weapon apart from the lightning beam. Lightning beam: a powerful blast of lightning, shot in a beam like fashion from hands, it doesn't bounce from person to person like chain lightning however, but it's still very powerful and has a long distance range. Close up zaps: a close combat move, it is short and quick and can't be shot, it only works if her hands touch the target. Her hands are suddenly covered by lightning and any contact with them for a few short moments will be very painful. She often does this to electrify her hits and punches. Rapid fire: multiple quick blasts of lightning shot, also very bright to look at. Taser: a small blast of lightning hits the target, and like a grenade it goes off, electrocuting its target to the ground. Other kinds of lightning: she has your regular lighting bolts, they don't take long to recharge and have average strength. She often has lightning dancing around her body if she wills it, or trailing out behind her when jumping, running or even walking. She can shoot powerful blasts from her hands to give herself a boost whilst jumping. spider sense: allows her to detect things just before they happen Transport: her way of getting around is very different to everyone in the spider verse. Instead of swinging from place to place, she jumps. If she tries very hard, she can jump higher than some skyscrapers, small ones but. She will then stick to the side of the wall and be able to jump upwards from there (often trailing electricity as she goes) it can sometimes be a slower way of travel, but very useful. Note: she cannot jump as high as the hulk can. she actually does have web shooters (the black bands around her wrists) but she rarely uses them. her webs also glow (blue)

As a normal human: Katlin is a 17 year old girl who is in grade 11 at school, her parents don't really have many restrictions on her, so she can just go out and help stop crime and what not. She is also a bit of a rebel. She is into art, and music, often seen with a set of headphones and an iPod (her iPod happens to be the same colours as her suit. her headphones are black with a blue and white pulse pattern on them.) she has several piercings on on ear, often wears some form of studs in them. She has long black (or very dark brown hair) with blue/grey eyes. Her fingernails are often painted black. She has several silver rings on her hands and a necklace that she pretty much never removes, as well as a bracelet or two (she doesn't often wear all this stuff at once of course, she doesn't like to overdo it) she is mostly quiet and can be a bit edgy, but she is kinda popular at school and can be quite friendly at times, but she is more of an introvert, and doesn't really socialise much. She doesn't wear heavy makeup and too much black, even though it's her favourite colour, she often wears a black leather jacket with silver zips and bits, as well as a white or colourful t-shirt with denim jeans and black boots. She is also fond of hoodies. her design is kind of based off the cobalt blue tarantula and a black widow spider.

that's about it so far :)

#spidersona #into the spider verse #taser #Katlyn Rhodera #wallwalker #the lightning spider

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yellowmagicalgirl · 5 years ago

Text

Rules: tag 9 people with excellent taste

I was tagged by @frostybirdgoddess (glad you like my taste, then)

Color(s) that I’m wearing:

Denim-blue, navy-blue, white, black, red, blue-grey and you know what this is a Rogue One shirt I’m wearing I really don’t want to describe every single color so let’s just say its the same colors that comprise the cast of the people in the movie as well as the ones listed

Last Band I Saw Live:

So here’s the thing: there’s a lot of bands that play live at my school and I don’t know the names of any of them. However, the last time I “chose” to go see a band for the band’s sake was the municipal band that plays in the park by my house every summer. (I put chose in quotes because my parents take my sister and I as a family outing since it’s free entertainment.)

Last Song I Listened to:

I don’t know, it was something on my dad’s iPod as he drove down the mountain today?

Unless you’re asking about of my own volition, and then it’s a cover of “And I’m Home” from the PMMM soundtrack.

Lipstick or Chapstick:

Chapstick. I wear it far more often than lipstick, and I’m less concerned about eating it and then having to go touch it up.

Last Movie I Watched:

Solo: A Star Wars Story

Last 3 TV Shows I Watched:

The Great British Baking Show, NCIS, and Trollhunters, unless we aren’t counting stuff I just watched with my parents and sister and then retreated to my room, because then She Ra and the Princesses of Power and Carmen Sandiego (2019) would replace the first two shows there.

Last YouTube video I watched:

Hmmm...

Is this watched as in “this is the latest thing in my YouTube history” or as in “I actually watched this I didn’t just have it play in the background”

Because if it’s the former, then that would be that cover I mentioned earlier, but if it’s Samuel Fu’s movie music evolution medley.

3 Characters I Identify With:

Claire Nuñez. Canonically, she’s a perfectionist to the point of anxiety and self-destruction, and also Hispanic/Latina, even having a grandmother from Mexico. Those traits are also ones I share, which is a) why I self-project onto her and b) part of why I put her through so much angst in my writing.

Evangeline Samos; I didn’t even like her before King’s Cage and I think she’s an asshole but never have I ached so much when wanting a character to be happy in a romantic relationship. This is probably because she’s a lesbian.

Emily from Emily the Strange because I, too, am named Emily, and I kind of wanted to be like her back in middle/early high school. That being said, I really hate time travel.

Books I’m currently reading:

Black Widow: Red Vengeance by Margaret Stohl and The Assassin’s Blade by Sarah J. Maas

I’m tagging @galactic-tyto, @lesbiankropotkin, @thrashz, @im-the-king-of-the-ocean, @elizabethemerald, @dragonsarecats, @televisiontelepath, @infographicisminetocommand, @magic-and-moonlit-wings, and whomever else wants to do this because I can feel the melatonin starting to kick in and I don’t want to think anymore

#personal

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iamnoonewhoareyou · 6 years ago

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“We want a black widow movie!”

Well I sure as shit don’t.

I want a Darcy movie.

Just Darcy talking to Thor on the phone and living her best life.

Beginning: she starts looking for her iPod.

Call Thor: Thor is traveling in a space ship with all of Asgard. She finds out that myuh myuh is dead and proceeds to cry.

Middle: finds her iPod. It’s a been a week so she calls Thor again to say hi. He’s in a space pod with what he calls a rabbit but sounds like a raccoon. Darcy tells rocket this, and he’s not pleased. She FaceTimes them and shows them a picture of a raccoon. Groot says “I am groot” (that is you!) and rocket starts foaming at the mouth.

End: Darcy has lunch with Jane. It’s been about a week since she checked in with Thor so she calls him. Right after he answers Jane dissolved into dust and Darcy vows to cross the galaxy and personally tase Thanos in the nuts. Tony gives her an ultra taser and a suit just for this purpose.

After credits scene: Darcy puts her phone, taser, and iPod in her purse and puts on her tony suit.

Darcy will Return

*fade to black*

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parsippanylibrarykids · 6 years ago

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By: Miss Rose, Miss Sam, & Miss Kristen

FICTION

Ahdieh, Renee. Flame in the Mist. G. P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers, 2017. 416p. (gr. 7-9)

On the way to the imperial city to meet her betrothed, Raiden, Mariko and her escort are ambushed by the dangerous Black Clan, a gang of bandits that were hired to kill her. She dresses as a peasant boy to survive, infiltrating their group and eager to find out who hired them. Mariko impresses them with her wit and connects with Okami, one of the leaders. While there, she starts to question the truth about her family and her desires.

Albertalli, Becky. The Upside of Unrequited. Balzer + Bray, 2017. 340p. (gr. 9-12)

Molly has had her more than her fair share of crushes but nothing ever seems to come from them, as her twin sister Cassie keeps reminding her. When Molly makes a connection with Will, Cassie pressures her to start a relationship with him but Molly isn’t so sure that is what she wants, especially as she starts to get to know her coworker Reid and bond with him. Molly and Cassie’s relationship becomes additionally strained as Cassie starts spending more time with her new girlfriend and not participating as much as Molly would like when they need to start working on their mothers’ long-awaited wedding after gay marriage is finally legalized.

Benway, Robin. Far From the Tree. HarperTeen, 2017. 374p. (gr. 9-12)

After Grace, who was adopted as an infant, becomes pregnant and decides on an open adoption for her baby, she realizes that she would like to learn more about her own biological mother as she struggles with her feelings for her baby and her decision. Her supportive parents help her with the search and she discovers that she has a younger half-sister who was also adopted as an infant and an older half-brother who has been in the foster care system since he was a toddler. She connects first with Maya and then with Joaquin, who are struggling with their own issues, which include Maya’s mother’s alcoholism and Joaquin’s feeling that he isn’t worthy of love. The three siblings bond over their search for information on their birth mother and help one another sort through their feelings.

Buxbaum, Julie. What to Say Next. Delacorte Press, 2017. 304 p. (gr. 9-12)

When popular and beautiful Kit Lowell starts having lunch with socially awkward David Drucker, everyone at Mapleview High takes notice. But Kit doesn’t mind especially since David’s brutal honesty is oddly refreshing at a time when she’s struggling to overcome the shock and devastation of her father’s recent passing. Used to being outcast and ignored, David welcomes the sudden friendship and agrees to help Kit try to solve the mystery behind her father’s tragic car accident.

Cheng, Jack. See You in the Cosmos. Dial Books, 2017. 320 p. (gr. 5-9)

Aspiring astronomer Alex Petroski is only eleven, but he’s already building a rocket to send into space. Alex and his dog Carl Sagan (named after the real life astronomer), make the journey from their home in Colorado to the Southwest High-Altitude Rocket Festival (SHARF) in Albuquerque to launch his Golden iPod into space aboard his rocket, Voyager 3. Along the way to SHARF and beyond, Alex meets new friends and captures his adventures in daily recordings on his Golden iPod, in the hopes that other lifeforms will get to hear about what life on Earth is like.

Colbert, Brandy. Little & Lion. Little, Brown and Company, 2017. 330p. (gr. 10-12)

After Suzette’s stepbrother Lionel begins to exhibit disturbing behavior stemming from undiagnosed bipolar disorder, Suzette is sent to a boarding school across the country while Lionel receives the treatment he needs. At school, Suzette has a secret relationship with her roommate but it ends disastrously and she’s not sure she is ready to come out to her parents, even though they are always supportive of her. While home for the summer, she realizes she has feelings for both her long-time platonic male friend Emil and mysterious new acquaintance Rafaela, which makes her even more confused. On top of this, Lionel confides in her that he is off his medication and Suzette agrees to keep his secret against her better judgement. When Lionel runs off during an outing, Suzette is forced to come clean to her mother about everything.

Cook, Eileen. The Hanging Girl. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2017. 311p. (gr. 9-12)

Skye’s mother believes in all things paranormal, especially psychic abilities. Skye isn’t a believer, but she has convinced her classmates that she is indeed psychic and gives tarot card readings to her classmates. A fellow student convinces her to use her pretend skills in the kidnapping of a rich girl, but things go horribly wrong for the kidnap victim and Skye has to stay one step ahead of the police.

Firestone, Carrie. The Unlikelies. Little, Brown and Company, 2017. 323p. (gr. 9-12)

The summer before Sadie’s senior year of high school looks like it is going to be a dull and lonely one, as all her closest friends are a grade ahead of her and leaving for college. After an altercation at the farmers market where she works is caught on video, Sadie is lauded as a local hero and invited to be honored along with other teens who have done extraordinary things. The hero teens form a bond and over the course of the summer work together to help underdogs as best they can. An unexpected windfall bequeathed to Sadie by her employer aids them in their quests.

Frank, Steven B. Armstrong and Charlie. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2017. 304 p. (gr. 6-8)

It’s 1973 and Charlie and Armstrong are starting sixth grade in Los Angeles. For Charlie it means starting a new school year without his brother Andy who recently died in a tragic accident. Armstrong is not looking forward to sixth grade either. He is feeling uncertain and apprehensive about being bussed to an all-white school away from his neighborhood and most of his friends. Charlie and Armstrong clash at first, but what starts as a fierce rivalry soon turns into a close friendship.

Goo, Maurene. I Believe in a Thing Called Love. Farrar, Straus & Giroux BYR. 2017. 336p. (gr. 7-9)

Desi is an overachiever who likes to plan things out. So when she finds herself flailuring (failing at flirting) yet again, she plans the perfect way to get noticed by her crush, Luca, in a good way. Raised by her widowed Korean father, she grew up with a steady diet of K-Dramas. With her Appa’s help, she meticulously creates a perfect list for her real-life K-Drama and sets her plan into action.

Green, John. Turtles All the Way Down. Dutton Books, 2017. 286p. (gr. 9-12)

Billionaire Russell Pickett is being investigated for fraud and bribery, currently on the run from authorities and there is a substantial reward being offered for knowledge of his whereabouts. Because Aza knew his son Davis when they both attended the same grief camp as children, her friend Daisy convinces her to talk to Davis to try to find out where his father is hiding so they can split the money from the reward. When she and Davis reconnect, Aza develops feelings for him. Her overwhelming anxiety interferes with her friendship with Daisy and makes it difficult for her to pursue her romance with Davis.

Lloyd-Jones, Emily. The Hearts We Sold. Little, Brown Books for Young Readers, 2017. 381p. (gr. 10-12)

In a world in which demons are real and they can grant anyone a wish….for a price, Dee Moreno decides that the only way to get away from her bad home life is to make a wish. Unlike modern myth, the price isn’t a soul, but a body part. With the news that she won’t have a scholarship come the new school year, she trades away her heart for two years and is enlisted to protect the world by closing the voids that open up to unleash monsters on the world.

Lu, Marie. Warcross. G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers, 2017. 368 p. (gr. 9-12)

Teenage hacker Emika Chen works as a bounty hunter, tracking down players who bet illegally on the virtual reality game called Warcross. When Emika needs to make some quick cash, she takes a chance and hacks into the opening game of the Warcross Championships and ends up at the center of the biggest international event. Unfortunately, Emika gets caught and finds herself face-to-face with the elusive creator of Warcross, Hideo Tanaka. Instead of arresting her, Hideo asks Emika to play in the tournament and spy on the other players to uncover a security problem. But Emika’s investigation uncovers much more than just a security breach in the Warcross empire.

McManus, Karen M. One of Us Is Lying. Delacorte Press, 2017. 368 p. (gr. 9-12)

It’s a typical afternoon for five students who are stuck in detention. By the end of it, though, one of those students, Simon, won’t make it out alive. When it’s revealed that Simon had planned to expose juicy secrets about the other four students on his gossip app, “About That,” all four of them become suspects in the murder. Bronwyn (the brain); Addy (the beauty); Nate (the criminal); and Cooper (the star athlete) are forced to confront the allegations brought to light by Simon’s blog. Though they barely know one another and belong to different cliques, the four band together to prove their innocence. And yet they were the only ones with Simon when he died. Did one of them kill Simon to protect a powerful secret or are they being framed by an outsider?

Menon, Sandhya. When Dimple Met Rishi. Simon Pulse, 2017. 384 p. (gr. 9-12)

Dimple Shah is glad but surprised when her parents agree to pay for her to spend the summer at coding camp in San Francisco. Dimple is passionate about coding and also looking forward to the break from her mother who mostly just wants Dimple to find the “Ideal Indian Husband.” Rishi Patel is a hopeless romantic so when his parents tell him the girl they hope to be his future wife, Dimple, will be attending the same summer camp as him he is eager to meet and impress her. Needless to say, Dimple and Rishi’s first meeting does not go as planned once Dimple learns the Patels and Shahs played a role in the “suggested arrangement.” But slowly Dimple and Rishi’s friendships grows into something more and both are forced to confront their conflicting feelings between family obligation and the future they envision for themselves.

Murphy, Julie. Ramona Blue. Balzer + Bray, 2017. 408p. (gr. 9-12)

Ramona, her sister Hattie, and her father have been living in a FEMA trailer in a small town in Mississippi ever since Hurricane Katrina destroyed their old home. Their trailer becomes more crowded once Hattie’s boyfriend Tyler moves in after Hattie becomes pregnant. Ramona works several jobs to help her family as much as she can and she gets frustrated when people inquire about her plans for the future because all she can envision for herself is continuing to stay right where she is, working at menial jobs just to keep a roof over her family. When her old friend Freddie moves back into town and encourages her to swim with him and his grandmother, she starts to see that there might just be way out of small town life. Up until now, Ramona has only ever had romantic feelings for girls but she starts to see Freddie as more than a friend.

Nielsen, Susin. Optimists Die First. Wendy Lamb Books, 2017. 228p. (gr. 9-12)

After the death of her younger sister Maxine, Petula’s family falls apart. Petula’s mother starts hoarding cats and her father avoids home as much as he can. Petula has become hyper-focused on all the bad things that could possibly happen to her loved ones and she does her best to keep herself safe at all times. She has been attending an art therapy program through her school and meets Jacob, who has a robotic arm and his own issues that he has to cope with. Petula and Jacob form a bond but when she learns about his involvement in the death of a friend, she isn’t sure she can remain on good terms with him.

Ormsbee, Kathryn. Tash Hearts Tolstoy. Simon and Schuster Books for Young Readers, 2017. 367p. (gr. 7-9)

Tash is of the director of an amateur web-series that goes viral. Tash loves Tolstoy, and with her best friend, Jack (Jacqueline), they put together a modern production of Anna Karenina entitled Unhappy Families. With a mention on a popular vid-blogger’s own channel, Seedling Productions starts to reach acclaim in the webseries world, and with fame comes haters. Meanwhile, she’s also coming to terms with the the deepening divide between her older sister and a new, long distance relationship with a male video blogger who doesn’t know she’s asexual.

Perkins, Mitali. You Bring the Distant Near. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2017. 320 p. (gr. 9-12)

In 1960, sisters Tara and Sonia Das are getting used to life in Queens after living in Ghana and London for several years. While Tara and Sonia adjust to life as teens in America, matriarch Ranee works diligently to make sure her family maintains customary Bengali traditions. Years later, Tara’s own daughter Anna must leave her beloved home in Mumbai and go to school in New York with her cousin Chantal. Told in alternating point-of-views and spanning generations, this is the story of the Das women.

Perkins, Stephanie. There’s Someone Inside Your House. Dutton Books, 2017. 287p. (gr. 10-12)

After an incident at her high school in Hawaii, Makani moves to Nebraska to live with her increasingly forgetful grandmother and start over where no one knows her secret. When students in her high school start dying at the hands of a serial killer, Makani and her friends investigate. While trying to figure out who in their small town is behind the slayings, Makani is forced to reveal the secret of how she attacked a friend during a hazing ritual gone wrong.

Poston, Ashley. Geekerella. Quirk, 2017. 320p. (gr. 10-12)

Elle grew up watching the sci-fi series Starfield with her late father, but the news that the movie’s version Federation Prince Carmindor is teen heartthrob Darien Freeman has her seething. An unlikely friendship begins when Darien accidentally contacts Elle when trying to talk to management at ExcelsiCon. Through her job on the Magic Pumpkin Food Truck and her friendship with her co-worker, Elle decides to go to ExcelsiCon, the Con her father helped created, to win money to get away from her stepmother by entering their Cosplay Contest.

Reynolds, Jason. Long Way Down. Atheneum, 2017. 306p. (gr. 9-12)

Will has been taught to live by the Rules of his neighborhood: no crying, no snitching, and always get revenge. After his brother Shawn is shot and killed, Will has no choice but to get Shawn’s gun and head to where the boy he is certain is the killer lives to exact revenge. On the elevator ride down, different figures from Will’s life who died from gun violence, including his father and his uncle, get on at each floor and help him figure out what he should do.

Riazi, Karuna. The Gauntlet. Salaam Reads, 2017. (gr. 4-6)

On her birthday, Farah and her two friends get transported into a board game called The Gauntlet of Blood and Sand to rescue her impulsive younger brother, Ahmad. Inside the game, the Architect created three challenges they have to complete to escape, all the while making sure no one finds out that they’re also trying to locate Ahmad to save him. If they lose a challenge, they’ll be trapped inside the game forever.

Roth, Veronica. Carve the Mark. Katherine Tegen Books, 2017. 468 p. (gr. 8-12)

Cyra is the sister of the brutal ruler of the Shotet people. In a world where people develop unique powers called current gifts, Cyra’s is more burden than gift. She feels and can deliver intense pain and her brother exploits this, using Cyra and her power as a weapon against his enemies. Akos is the son of an oracle from the planet Thuve. His gift allows him to turn off the current, so that he is not affected by other current gifts. When he is captured by the Shotet people, Akos finds an unlikely ally in Cyra.

Ruby, Laura. The Shadow Cipher. Walden Pond Press, 2017. 448 p. (gr. 6-8)

In the 19th century, the eccentric Morningstarr twins build a dazzling New York City using new technology and impressive machines no one has ever seen before. Skyscrapers reach new heights and the Underway travels miles and miles below the ground. When the architects mysteriously disappear fifty-seven years after arriving in NYC, it’s revealed that they’ve left behind the New York City Cipher, an intricate puzzle and treasure map woven into the buildings and machines in the city they created. By present day, the Cipher still hasn’t been solved. Tess and Theo Biedermann and their friend Jaime Cruz make one last desperate attempt to solve the Cipher when they learn their beloved apartment building (a Morningstarr masterpiece) has been sold to a money hungry real estate developer with plans to demolish it.

Sanchez, Erika L. I Am Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter. Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers, 2017. 344p. (gr. 9-12)

Julia’s older sister Olga is the perfect, dutiful Mexican daughter who only leaves the house to go to her job or attend classes at the local community college. Julia is rebellious, has a hard time controlling her emotions, and wants nothing more than to leave Chicago and go to college in New York. After Olga is killed in an accident, Julia’s relationship with her parents becomes even more strained. It isn’t until after Julia attempts to take her own life and has to be hospitalized and then has an opportunity to spend a few weeks with her family in Mexico learning more about her parents and their journey to America that she and her mother and father are able to understand each other better. She also learns her sister’s secrets and realizes that Olga was not as perfect as she seemed.

Thomas, Angie. The Hate U Give. Balzer + Bray, 2017. 444p. (gr. 9-12)

Starr is a passenger in the car when her friend Khalil, who is driving, is pulled over by the police for having a broken taillight. Khalil is shot and killed during the traffic stop even though he is unarmed and hadn’t been doing anything wrong. His death is all over the news and the people in her largely African-American, lower income neighborhood respond very differently than the mostly-white students at the elite prep school she attends. Caught between two worlds, Starr tries to cope with what she witnessed and get her friends from school to realize what she is going through but even her own family doesn’t quite understand.

Watson, Renee. Piecing Me Together. Bloomsbury, 2017. 264p. (gr. 9-12)

Jade loves art and language and has dreams of traveling the world someday, even though opportunities for a girl from a low income family seem limited. She hopes to get picked for her private school’s study abroad program, but when she is called down to the guidance office, she learns that she has instead been selected to participate in a mentorship program for African-American students. She reluctantly agrees to give the program a try but has a hard time connecting with her appointed mentor, Maxine who is distracted with her own issues.

Zappia, Francesca. Eliza and her Monsters. GreenwillowBooks, 2017. (gr. 10-12)

Eliza Mirk fades into the background at school, but online, she’s the creator of the popular webcomic Monstrous Sea. Within her anonymous world online, she has friends and people that understand her, but it isn’t until she finds out the new guy at school, Wallace, writes Monstrous Sea fanfiction that she starts to appreciate the real world. When her parents accidentally share her online identity, she has to not crumble under the pressure of needing to finish her comic, her relationship with Wallace, and her anxiety.

GRAPHIC NOVELS

Chmakova, Svetlana. Brave. JY, 2017. 248p. (gr. 4-6)

Jensen’s reality is very different from his daydreams. He has trouble in middle school with making friends, with his school work, and even just not being left out of activities in Art Club. Akilah and Jenny, part of the school newspaper, ask for Jensen’s help with a special project about being bullied. While Jensen doesn’t believe he’s really bullied, the project opens his eyes to what challenges everyone faces in middle school, and that it’s important to be brave and make the changes you want to see in the world by reaching out to someone who seems lonely. Holm, Jennifer L. Swing It, Sunny! Graphix, 2017. 224 p. (gr. 4-7)

Sunny is having a hard time adjusting to life in middle school and at home without her brother. Even when Dale comes home from boarding school to visit, Sunny can’t figure out why he seems so different and angry all the time. Sunny is finding the year really confusing, but despite it all she’s determined to stay positive. Sunny doesn’t let her sadness get in the way of doing all the things she loves like listening to records and watching her favorite TV shows, General Hospital and Gilligan’s Island. She even makes a new friend and learns how to twirl a swing flag!

Jamieson, Victoria. All’s Faire in Middle School. Dial Books for Young Readers, 2017. 248p. (gr. 5-8)

Imogene’s parents work at the Renaissance Faire, which is a huge part of the entire family’s life. Imogene and her brother have been homeschooled but now that she is entering middle school, she is going to start public school. School proves to be a huge culture shock for her. Imogene tries to fit in with the popular girls, but ends up isolating her only genuine friend and damaging her relationship with her younger brother in the process. She figures out a way to make things right, using the skills she has learned from the Renaissance Faire.

Meyers, Marissa. Wires and Nerve. Feiwel Friends, 2017. 238p. (7-9) Iko, an android, is out to prove she is more than just a machine by tracking rogue wolf-hybrids for her friend, Cinder. The soldiers have other plans and don’t make it easy for her, even with the help of a royal guard. Iko is forced to confront the fact that while she may feel human, not everyone will see her as anything more than an android.

NONFICTION

Aronson, Marc & Marina Budhos. Eyes of the World: Robert Capa, Gerda Taro and the Invention of Modern Photojournalism. Henry Holt and Company, 2017. 294p. (gr. 7-12)

Photographers and reporters Robert Capa and Gerda Taro were both Jewish refugees from Europe who made their mark in the photography world by documenting the Spanish Civil War, with a focus on chronicling the war’s effect on children.

Bolden, Tonya. Pathfinders: The Journeys of 16 Extraordinary Black Souls. Abrams Books for Young Readers, 2017. 124p. (gr. 5-8)

In this biographical compilation, readers learn about achievements of some of the less well known African Americans in history who made a great impact. People profiled include Civil War spy Mary Bowser, race car driver Charlie Wiggins, and mathematician Katherine Johnson.

Gonzales, Andrea & Sophie Houser. Girl Code: Gaming, Going Viral, and Getting It Done. Harper Collins, 2017. 272 p. (8-12)

Andrea “Andy” Gonzales and Sophie Houser met at Girls Who Code and teamed up to make a video game that went viral. Through the success of their video game, the duo was thrust into the spotlight, inspiring girl coders everywhere. Girls are so often left behind in the tech industry, and the authors message is to not give up on your dreams and career goals despite the statistics. Included are resources for readers who are interested in computer science topics discussed throughout the book.

Heiligman, Deborah. Vincent and Theo: The Van Gogh Brothers. Henry Holt & Co., 2017. 464 p. (gr. 9-12)

This book explores the complex but close relationship of the Van Gogh brothers. Through nearly 700 letters, the story follows the brothers from their early childhoods, into adulthood as they developed careers of their own, and up to both of their early deaths. The author reveals the successes, differences and issues that existed between the two brothers. By becoming an art dealer, Theo made true on a promise made to his brother as a teenager to always support and encourage him, even as Vincent’s mental health deteriorated and issues developed in Theo’s personal life. Back matter includes a timeline and author’s note.

Slater, Dashka. The 57 Bus. Farrar Straus Giroux, 2017. 302p. (gr. 9-12)

On November 4, 2013, Sasha, an agender teenager, fell asleep on the bus. Richard, another teen on the bus, noticed Sasha’s gauzy skirt and held a lighter to it, thinking the act would startle Sasha and nothing more. Sasha’s skirt caught fire and burned Sasha’s legs severely. Video footage from the bus led police to find and arrest Richard and charge him with a hate crime. This book examines what Sasha’s life was like before and after the attack as well as how Richard and his family were impacted by his actions. Information on the criminal justice system is included, along with information on gender neutrality.

Walker, Sally M. Sinking the Sultana: A Civil War Story of Imprisonment, Greed, and a Doomed Journey Home. Candlewick, 2017. 208 p. (gr. 6-12)

At the end of the Civil War in 1865, more than 2,000 people boarded the Sultana, a steam boat equipped to carry only 376 passengers. Aboard the boat were Union soldiers who had recently been released from Confederate prisoner-of-war camps where they had been mistreated and endured atrocious conditions. On the third night into their journey north, the boilers exploded, engulfing the Sultana in fire. More than fifteen hundred people were killed. This book describes the tragic event and examines who (or what) was responsible for the disaster and how it could have been avoided. The book is filled with photographs, maps, a glossary and in depth author’s notes.

#books #ya books #middle grade books #best books #book recs #book recommendations #best books of 2017 #middle grade #teen

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elcorhamletlive · 7 years ago

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series: MCU (Post-Captain America: Civil War) ship: Steve Rogers/Scott Lang tags: Fluff/Hurt/Comfort/Cuddling/POV Scott Lang/Steve Rogers Needs a Hug summary: And after everything goes down, when Cap breaks them out and they end up on some shady hotel in the middle of nowhere, after calling Hope and Luis to tell them he’s alright, Scott catches a look Captain gives him when he’s stripping out of the suit and, well. It’s… An interesting look.

It’s quick, but Scott feels himself smiling, and he asks “What’s up, Cap?” before he can think much about what’s happening.

“Call me Steve” He says, blushing slightly, and, wow. That’s definitely worth going to war against 117 countries for.

Scott is way too excited for this.

He definitely catches on, from the body language and heavy silence in the car, that this is supposed to be way more serious than he’s acting like. Falcon and the Badass Dude With A Metal Arm are super quiet during the entire ride, and they exchange meaningful looks every time Scott asks a dumb question, so he can tell they’re regretting the whole thing already. Before they get out, Falcon holds his arm and reminds him that doing this means going to war with 117 countries, and Scott tries to play it cool, nodding as an answer.

Still, when he jumps out of the car and lands his eyes on Captain America, in the flesh, standing in front of him to shake his hand, Scott forgets any attempt to be cool. He shakes his hand too much, babbles a bit and manages to hold himself back just enough to avoid saying anything like “I used to have underwear with your name in it”. In Scott’s opinion, it’s a success.

And after everything goes down, when Cap breaks them out and they end up on some shady hotel in the middle of nowhere, after calling Hope and Luis to tell them he’s alright, Scott catches a look Captain gives him when he’s stripping out of the suit and, well. It’s… An interesting look.

It’s quick, but Scott feels himself smiling, and he asks “What’s up, Cap?” before he can think much about what’s happening.

“Call me Steve” He says, blushing slightly, and, wow. That’s definitely worth going to war against 117 countries for.

“You’re out of your mind” Hope’s voice comes through the line.

“Hey! I’m trying to do this the right way here.” Scott says, looking around to make sure no one is listening.

“How so?” Hope asks, and she seems to be having way too much fun with the conversation, so Scott sighs.

“You know, like… Communicating. Talking. Giving you the heads-up.”

“You’re giving me the heads-up that you might bang Captain America?”

“Well, kind of.” And yep, Hope is definitely smiling now. “I mean, I know we talked before and it’s not like, an exclusive thing between us, but… I, I just don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, ok?”

Hope laughs. Her laughter echoes through the line, raspy and beautiful, and Scott’s heart takes a leap on his chest. He feels that weird good feeling in his stomach, the one people usually call butterflies, but he’s pretty sure on his case should be ants. “Scott, part of me thinks you’re full of shit, but another part of me wants to ask you to record it.”

“Really? Because I can-“

“Don’t. Honestly, I don’t know why you’re calling me for this...” Then she pauses for a second, as if she’s thinking, and her voice sounds more serious. “Scott, please, don’t tell me you’re trying to pick up war hero and national icon Captain America with a “it’s not gay if it’s a three-way” line.”

Scott gasps, because he’s totally not with this image on his head now, and it’s totally not making his mouth water a little. “No, no! I just, I don’t know if this is going to happen, ok? But if it does happen, I want to know how you would feel about it.”

“How would I feel if you banged Captain America?” Hope pauses for a second, as if she’s really thinking. “Scott, there’s no way he was checking you out.”

“Hey! I know when someone checks me out, ok? I knew when you did, and I know it now.”

Hope sighs. She’s probably blushing now, which makes Scott smile. “Fine. To be completely honest” She says, now in a definitely amused voice. “I’d probably give you a high-five.”

So Hope is cool with it. Scott is, honestly, more than cool with it, watching Cap - Steve talk to everyone else in the team in a way he can only hope is not too transparent. Then Steve comes to talk to him, and, yeah, Scott is not crazy, Steve’s eyes linger on his arms way longer than strictly necessary. He is so going to rub this on Hope’s face later.

“So what I mean is, I don’t think we’ll be staying here much longer.” Steve says, and Scott realizes there was probably an important explanation there he missed. He nods and Steve looks at him with those insanely blue eyes. Scott forces himself to focus on the stuff he’s saying now. “Nat said she’s going to have your paperwork figured out soon.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Scott says, grinning, and he can tell Steve wasn’t expecting such a chipper reaction, but he smiles back anyway.

“Yes, I guess it is.” He lowers his head for a minute, seeming to think, before looking at Scott again. “Mr. Lang, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.” His voice is serious but honest, and his eyes stare straight into Scott’s, looking at him like there’s nothing more important in the world than what he's done. Scott feels a burst of pride on his chest, and right now he really, really gets why people followed this guy in a war.

“Hey, I call you Steve, you call me Scott, right?” He says, raising both hands. “And there’s no need to sweat it, man, really. I mean, working with Captain America! I never thought I’d have the chance to do something like that.”

Steve’s smile fades, and Scott sees a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. He doesn’t get what he did wrong. “You will need to lay low for a while. Probably for a long time, really.”

Scott nods. “I figured.” Steve nods back, as if the conversation is over, but Scott really can’t deal with the look on Steve’s face right now. And when Scott can’t deal with stuff, he babbles. That’s just the way things are. “I have a lot of experience with laying low, you know. I used to steal things, and, obviously, you have to be discreet for this kind of job. Then I went to jail, and, after I got out, I started to, like, steal stuff for good? Uh, I mean, I only stole one thing, and it was definitely a thing that needed to be stolen so World War Three didn’t happen, so.” Steve just stares at him like he’s crazy, but Scott is on a roll now, he can’t stop. “Uh, anyway, point is, I’m good at laying low. Especially now, I guess.” He grins, even though Steve is still looking at him like he’s just grown a second head. “Maybe I’ll spend some time at the anthill in my backyard. Could be a fun vacation.”

Steve stares at him for a moment. Then he laughs, a low, raspy laugh that sounds like he hasn’t done that in a while. “Sounds like a fun idea, Scott.” He says.

The ants in Scott’s stomach throw a party.

“Bro, that’s the dopest thing I’ve ever heard!” Luis practically shrieks at him on the phone, and Scott grins because fuck yeah, that’s the reaction he was looking for.

“I know, I know.” Scott says, shuffling the old iPod the Black Widow gave him. There’s not much to do at the hotel while they wait, and, since they can’t go out under any circumstances, each one of them gets something to entertain themselves with for a while. Scott thinks she’s given him the iPod as a compensation for sorting out Hawkeye’s paperwork first. He wonders if she’s going to kill him if he starts calling her Nat.

“Are you going to date him? Are you guys going to bang? Holy shit, Scott, you’re gonna bang Captain America!”

“Ok, I really need you to be discreet about this, Luis.” Scott says, and it’s like he can see Luis frantically nodding in front of him.

“Oh yeah, totally, totally, bro. I’m gonna keep this real quiet.” There’s a moment of silence before he asks: “But are you going to, like, come on to him?”

That’s a good question, and something Scott hasn’t figured out the answer for yet. “I don’t know.” He fiddles with the iPod a little. There’s only like six songs in it, and Scott has totally not been listening to Star-Spangled Man non-stop for the past three hours.

“Bro, he’s Captain America. You need to bring your A game, dawg.” Luis says. “Plus, you need to play it cool, because he’s too used to people swooning over him all the time.”

“That… That actually makes sense.”

“So go for it, straight up. Take control. Don’t let him see you’re struggling!” He pauses for a moment. “By the way, bro, do you think he’d mind if you recorded it? Because that’d be mad money!”

It takes a while for Scott to talk Luis out of the whole “sex tape with a national icon” angle. Still, his advice echoes in Scott’s mind, and, to his own surprise, he thinks it’s a solid idea. Steve must have people fawning themselves over him all the time, so maybe being direct and acting like hooking up with superheroes is something he’s just totally used to doing is the best approach.

That’s the logic that drives Scott to walk all the way to Steve’s door, in the middle of the night, praying none of the others see him. He takes a deep breath, stretches a little (which, yeah, presumptuous, but Luis is right, it’s Captain America, he can’t be caught off guard) and knocks.

Steve opens the door looking puzzled, wearing a white shirt and sweatpants that makes Scott’s mouth go dry, and also leads him to think he was probably preparing to go to bed. “Scott?”

“Hey” Scott says, giving him what he hopes is his most charming smile. Steve smiles back, apparently as a reflex, and he feels almost dizzy. He had seen many Captain America pictures before, but none of them accurately conveyed his shy grin or his flushed face or the sparkle in his blue eyes. It’s incredible, and Scott is all over it.

Which means he probably needs to think his next move carefully. Which he’s never good at doing.

“So, are you going to invite me in?” He asks. Steve raises his eyebrows slightly, but lets him in and closes the door behind them.

“Uh, is something going on?” Steve asks, and Scott takes a deep breath before turning to face him. Steve smooths his t-shirt absent-mindedly, and the way his muscles move in that way-too-tight fabric makes all the ants in Scott’s stomach form a conga line singing a chorus of USA! USA! USA!.

“You tell me.” Scott says, taking a step forward and crossing his arms. Steve’s eyes widen, and fuck, Scott has never seen anything so blue in his life. Play it cool, Luis’s voice echoes in his head, so he keeps talking. “You’ve been watching me a lot lately, Captain.”

Steve blushes, and he looks almost guilty, which is almost too much for Scott to bear. “I-I, uh… I didn’t mean to…”

“Not that it’s a problem.” Scott says, aware that he sounds more eager than he means to, but fuck it. “Actually, if you want to, I think you can see a lot more.” He says, and damn, he sounds like the protagonist of a cheap erotic novel, even Hope would roll her eyes at this one. But Steve seems startled, so Scott guesses he must be doing something right.

They’re so close now that Scott can feel the heat coming from his body, can smell the cheap shampoo from the hotel’s bathroom, can see the way his blonde lashes curl above his ridiculously blue eyes - and well, when Steve takes a hesitating step and leans forward, Scott’s already hard. “C-Can I?” He asks, and before Scott’s brain can make him blurt out the fuckyespleasedefinitely mess that’s going through his head in a loop, Steve kisses him.

It’s… Soft. Steve’s lips are kind and careful, nothing like what Scott had imagined, but enough to make him cling to him like his life depends on it. Steve kisses him in a shy, almost chivalrous way, and Scott is unable to think anymore, so he just opens his mouth to let their tongues touch in a hot, messy encounter that makes him forget how to breathe.

“Damn” He mutters, when Steve breaks the kiss to get some air, feeling his body against his own. “I didn’t know that would work so well.”

Steve laughs, but it’s kind of a shaky laugh that makes Scott pause for a moment. Then he feels Steve’s hands on his hips shaking.

“Uh, are you sure about this?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “What?”

“You know, this.” Scott gestures nervously, putting some space between the two of them so he can think a little more clearly. “Because it’s cool if you don’t want to do anything.”

Steve stutters. “I-I. I thought you came here for…”

“Well, yeah, I kinda did, but-“

“You’re right, I was staring-“

“Hey, hey, I know.” Scott says, and Steve looks at him for a moment, face all flushed from the kiss, and he almost loses track of his thoughts. “And I’m totally cool with your staring – actually, I’m more than cool, stare away, stare as much as you want to.” He babbles, and Steve smiles slightly. “But we don’t have to do anything. We can, like, just make out. Or - or talk. Or I can go back to my room and we pretend this never happened for the rest of our days. You know. If you want to.”

Steve freezes for a second, as if he’s thinking. Then he smiles again, and this time it’s an honest smile that makes Scott feels like he could float. “I’m sure.” He says, and his fist grabs Scott’s shirt to pull him closer, kissing him again. It’s still a bit clumsy, but it’s certain and deep and such a strong kiss Scott doesn’t even think before holding Steve against him, his hands caressing his back muscles all the way to his hips.

He pulls Steve’s shirt up slightly, not wanting to go too far, but Steve grins against his mouth and pushes him away for a moment to pull the shirt off himself, and, wow. Scott was probably able to form coherent human words at some point in time before, but now he can’t remember how. He throws himself against Steve, his mouth pressing against his like he needs to kiss him for air and-

“Sorry! Sorry!” Steve says, pushing him. “I, I can’t do this.”

Fuck, Scott thinks, and not in the obvious way he was mentally begging for a second before. He’s not sure of why or how, but, as he watches Steve take a step back, breathless and flushed, he’s pretty sure he fucked everything up.

Steve turns his back to him and sits on the bed, his head on his hands, and Scott feels like crap. He doesn’t move, because he’s not sure of what to do. Then Steve looks at him, and a part of Scott wants to run away and pretend this never happened, but he feels like he should say something.

“Hey, don’t apologize. It’s totally fine, man, don’t…”

“It’s not that I don’t want it.” Steve says, and, ok, now Scott really doesn’t get what’s happening. “It’s just… I’m not…” He gestures aimlessly, looking away. “I’m not used to this.”

Oh. Oh.

Scott stands there for a moment, like a complete idiot, as the reality dawns on him that apparently, regardless of everyone in the world probably being willing to teach him, Captain America is not really used to the concept of casual sex. Which means he’s probably not used to people knocking on his door in the middle of the night to get some. Which means – and Scott now feels like the dumbest person in the universe – that Steve’s really nervous right now.

That’s… That’s super cute, actually, and it makes Scott’s heart feel like it’s going to explode, but before he can summon back one-fifth of his brain to at least attempt say something, Steve continues.

“I, um, I have been staring at you. I didn’t think you’d notice it.” Steve scratches the back of his head, looking at the floor. “And… Seeing you here, I mean, I never thought you’d actually… You know.” He says, and his voice is honest and shy. Scott’s chest tightens. “But I don’t usually, I mean, I never do anything like… This.”

“Me neither.” Scott blurts out. “I wanted to look cool, you know, and I guess I thought someone like you, you’d be…”

“Someone like me.” Steve repeats, and there’s that sadness again, shit, why does that keep happening?

“Uh, yeah. You know, like…”

“Like Captain America.” Steve says, and it looks like it’s physically painful for him to say the name. Then he sighs, putting his head in his hands again. “Sorry. It’s not your fault, but I just…” He pauses for a moment. “I hate when people do that.”

“What?”

“It’s-It’s just… Sometimes I still can’t feel like it’s my body.” He looks nervous but eager, like he’s blurting out something important, so Scott doesn’t interrupt. “I mean, I don’t know, it’s not anyone’s fault, but… But Captain America is way bigger than me, you know? And, in a situation like this, like, with you, even if I want to, I can’t help but think that, well, it’s – it’s as if anyone can notice it at any moment. And I don’t – I can’t let anyone down.” He runs a hand over his face. “And I like you, but you’re… You’re going to see it eventually, and I can’t deal with that. I’ve screwed up with a lot of people lately, and I didn’t want to add another name to the list. Everything is such a mess.” He says, and Scott notices for the first time how damn tired the guy looks. He looks like he could use a night of sleep, or five.

There’s a moment of silence. “God, Scott, I’m sorry.” Steve says. “I shouldn’t be dumping this stuff all over you, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry!” Scott answers. He takes a step towards the bed, looking at Steve. His shoulders hunch forward, like he wants to curl up in a ball and disappear, and that’s something Scott does know a thing or two about.

He looks at Steve and tries not to think about Captain America, the hero he used to hear bedtime stories about. Instead, he looks at Steve Rogers – the handsome, brave, badass guy he spent the last months following. For Scott, they’re clearly the same person, but he can see how Steve doesn’t think that.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Steve says immediately, and Scott can’t help but smile a little, even if he doesn’t smile back. “But I can’t… I don’t know what I want.”

“Ok.” A pause. “Can I sit next to you?”

Steve stares at him for a moment. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” Scott says, stepping forward and sitting next to Steve, careful not to get too in his personal space. “Uh, do you want to lay down?”

“What?”

“You know, like. On the bed.” Steve blinks at him, so Scott gestures at the bed behind them, as if to illustrate the point. “You seem tired, man.” Then he lays down himself, and, thankfully, Steve follows him, laying towards him with a still puzzled look on his face.

“Ok, so.” Scott starts, and Steve’s eyes are fixated on his now. “I get it. I mean, no, I totally don’t get what’s going on here, I’m pretty sure the Falcon must have told you that.” This gets a tiny smile out of Steve, so Scott knows he’s on the right track. He raises his hand slowly, giving Steve all the time in the world to push him back before resting on his shoulder, caressing slightly and moving up to Steve’s neck. Steve blushes, but lets him, and Scott wraps his other arm against his waist, pulls him closer, letting his head rest on Scott’s chest, and, yup, he’s cuddling with Captain America. “But, um. You can relax, ok? Like, the world doesn’t end if you take a break for a moment.”

Steve laughs, a muffled laugh against his neck that sends a shiver down Scott’s spine. He forces himself to focus.

“I’m, um, new to this superhero thing. But I have a daughter, her name’s Cassie - she’s super cute, I’ll show you a picture sometime – and, uh, she kind of looks at me like I’m the greatest hero ever. Sometimes it’s great, but other times it freaks me out. Like, I want to warn her I’m not that great. Just so she doesn’t find out on her own.” His voice shakes a bit, and he can feel Steve’s eyes on him, so he focus very firmly on the ceiling. “And I can’t… I can’t imagine what it’s like to have this with the entire world, you know? I mean, yeah, obviously, you know, that’s the entire point of this talk.” Another laugh. That’s enough encouragement for him. “But I realized I needed to try to be that for Cassie, even if I don’t think I am, just so she can believe it’s possible. And then, I don’t know, I guess it becomes possible because I’m doing it? And I think the same works for you, too.” He risks a look at Steve, and the bright, wide blue eyes that stare back almost makes him lose track. “I see you doing stuff for everyone all the time. Like, the witch girl, she never smiles at anyone else. And the Falcon and the guy with the metal arm, they have jokes behind your back sometimes, about the way you use your phone – but they’re still here, and I don’t think there’s anywhere else they’d rather be. And even me, you – you checked on me like three times after the battle and you don’t even know me that well.” He feels the weight of Steve’s head on his shoulder, and he touches his hair absently. It’s thin hair, almost a bit rugged, like hair that doesn’t get treated enough would be. Scott smiles. “And, and… I don’t know, I think you’re pretty great. Like, in your head you might not be as great as Captain America, but at the end of the day the only reason anyone thinks Captain America is great is because of you.” A pause. “I don’t really get what’s going on with Stark, but if you care that much, he’s probably great too. And I think you’re both going to sort this out.” Another pause, this time longer, and Scott wonders if he went too far, but, well, now it’s too late. “So, um, I don’t really know how to wrap this up? But I, I think it’s going to be okay.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Scott hopes he didn’t fuck up too much, but when he looks down there's the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen staring right back at him.

“Thank you.” Steve says, and he sounds almost peaceful, his body now totally relaxed against Scott’s. It’s even more amazing than Scott had thought this night would be.

“You’re totally welcome.” Scott answers, trying not to swoon too much, not right after he just tried to talk a super legend out of some serious impostor syndrome. “And, honestly, I bet you were pretty hot before, too.” He babbles, and Steve stares at him and fuck he should not have said that. “Like, I don’t know. It’s hard being ugly with a face like yours.”

Steve laughs, blushing slightly. Then he just looks at Scott with those stunning eyes. “I think Ant-Man is great too.” He says, and Scott wants to have those words recorded, put in a loop and turned into his theme song.

“Thanks” Scott says, breathlessly, and there’s a hint of malice in Steve’s smile now.

“You’re totally welcome.” He says, raising his head towards Scott’s and kissing him.

The ants on his stomach share a collective high-five.

#steve rogers #scott lang #mcu fic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #my fics #...does this ship even have a name?#i don't know and tbh i don't care #i really can't explain where this one came from #but scott is an angel and steve deserves to be taken care of #so there's that

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