#– for . if he shared them with tony . the clock would only spiral further with worry and guilt

[spookythesillyfella]

four unrecoverable hours down the drain ....

★ song : "Gehenna" – Nightcord at 25:00 cover

[cake-writes]

In Your Atmosphere (Part Six)

Pairings: Steve x Reader & platonic Bucky x Reader (mostly)

Warnings: PTSD / Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, Mental Health Issues, Survivor Guilt, Eventual Smut 18+

Summary: The first time you met Steve Rogers, he kissed the hell out of you. It wasn’t the first time he met you.

Part Five / Master List

—

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you slept for a good twelve hours after that, but it did. You were worn out both mentally and physically, and while you needed the rest, your nightmares got hold of you for the first time in a long, long while and you wished you’d been able to wake up sooner. That sentiment was solidified with a quick check of your bedside clock, which indicated that it was a little after ten at night. You'd only meant to nap for a couple hours.

Crackling flames and piercing screams from the worst day of your life reverberated in your brain as you pulled yourself out of bed, limbs aching. You made your way to the bathroom, where you took a good look at the multicoloured bruises littering your battered body. Most of them had faded, but a couple of them were obviously new, dark and tender. Now that a few hours had passed, there was a very distinct imprint of four hard metal knuckles on the flesh of your upper arm.

A shower helped soothe your sore muscles, but it unfortunately did nothing for your troubled mind. It certainly made sense that your memories from the bombing had started to resurface. The stress of recent events was catching up to you: from SHIELD's corruption and your brush with death to your escape to the compound, not to mention the added fatigue from your field evaluation. You'd finally been certified, at least, but it wasn’t over yet. You still needed to hone your skills and improve, otherwise you’d wind up getting another person killed. Another partner.

That intrusive thought was what carried you back into the dimly-lit hallway, sometime after eleven. You needed to eat something, but you weren’t hungry. Maybe some cardio would be a good distraction. Your body wasn’t ready for weights or sparring again; in fact, the very thought of punching something made you cringe, because your knuckles were already bruised and sore. What you thought you could manage was a light jog on the elliptical.

Something new in the hallway drew your attention, and you took a brief pause: one of the other doors on your floor was open, further down the long hall near the stairs. You hadn't yet found out who your neighbours were, but then again, it had been a busy few days and you weren't exactly on a normal sleep schedule.

There was no doubt in your mind that your room, a corner suite, had the best view on the third floor. Since your arrival, you’d been wondering why Tony had given you such a nice room but you hadn't been able to piece together why until now. When you craned your neck to peer into the unfamiliar bedroom, you realized that it had more than likely been left vacant by choice.

Apparently, you shared the floor with Bucky. That shouldn't have come as a surprise either, but it did. With his history, you got the feeling that he liked to have multiple escape routes and he almost certainly would have wanted faster access to the stairs. Your room was the furthest away from them and, while he'd easily be able to survive the three story drop from your bedroom window, it probably wasn't ideal for a number of reasons.

You observed that Bucky’s room had nothing in common with yours aside from the soft lighting. The windows were much smaller, more easily covered with some particularly dark curtains that blocked the daylight. The décor was simple: there was a small mahogany dresser on the left-hand wall, directly across from his matching bed and side table. The sheets and plush duvet were a tangled mess of black and grey, and upon them lay the man himself, relaxing as he thumbed through a well-worn novel. He wore a plain black tank top and sweats, and his sock-clad feet were crossed at the ankles.

“Morning,” he greeted casually, not looking up from his book.

You jumped at his sudden greeting and spoke without thinking, “Good morning.”

He turned his eyes up to you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s nighttime, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you said blankly, leaning against the doorframe. Your thoughts were jumbled, and you didn't know what else to say.

“If you’re looking for Steve, he’s down the hall.”

Oh. Well, it looked like Steve’s room was on your floor, too, because of course it was. The new knowledge of your close proximity to the two of them made you feel a little uneasy. In that moment, you found yourself wondering if that was just how the boys were, pet names and all, or if they were being overly familiar with you. It was a stupid thought, really, but you’d woke up in such a funk from your nightmares and now your brain was clinging to something – anything – else as a distraction. As much as you secretly enjoyed being treated so kindly, you couldn't help but be a little wary. Usually when people were nice to you, they had an agenda. What theirs was, if any, you hadn't yet figured out.

At your radio silence, Bucky eyed you for a moment before he spoke again, “You alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” you said absently, fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt. “What are you reading?”

“1984.” His answer was short and to the point, and he gently closed the novel, setting it on his bedside table so that he could give you his full attention. There was something about your body language that put him on edge. “You sure you’re alright?”

You chewed your lip and ignored his question, instead taking a hesitant few steps into the room. You knew it wasn’t really proper for you to go into a man’s bedroom like this so late at night, especially in the time period he was from, but you weren't exactly in the best headspace to be making smart decisions. “What do you think of it? 1984.”

“It’s interesting.” Something was definitely wrong. “Have you read it?”

“A long time ago,” was all you said, before you nodded to the foot of the bed. “Can I…?”

Bucky moved his feet to the side so that you could take a seat. “Sure.”

You sat down on his soft bedding with a grateful, albeit nervous smile. When you started to pick at your fingernails, you didn’t even notice; all you could focus on was your desperate need for a distraction. This conversation wasn't enough to keep your worries at bay, and your thoughts were spiralling.

“Trouble sleeping?” he ventured tentatively.

You let out a slow, shaky breath. “Something like that.”

There was a lingering pause as Bucky took in your weary features. The last few days hadn’t been kind to you, but this didn't seem to be from that. You appeared haunted, almost. It was a distinct feeling that he knew all too well.

“You’re up late,” you commented after a moment. “Couldn’t put it down?”

It took him a second to realize that you were talking about the book again.

“Something like that,” he echoed, and his eyes flickered briefly to your hands before they met yours again.

Your fingers immediately stilled. He’d noticed your nasty habit: the way you anxiously picked at your nails and the surrounding skin when you were out of your comfort zone. It had become increasingly more common over the last few days, and you were bordering on making yourself bleed again despite your best efforts not to.

Clearing your throat, you got back on your feet and made your way back to the door, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. This was a mistake. You should have just gone to the gym. Now someone had seen you for who you really were, the anxious wreck of a person that you'd somehow managed to bury under months of therapy; and now, because of your nightmares, she'd been unearthed again.

“I get them too,” he called out to you, and you froze in your tracks, gripping the door frame with one hand. He didn’t even have to say the word for you to know what he meant. Nightmares.

The quick look you shot him revealed exactly how scared you were to even acknowledge it out loud, and instead, you scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“If you ever want someone to talk to,” he said carefully, “I’ll listen. I understand.”

Your mood flipped instantly, like a switch, and you snapped, “You don’t know anything about me.”

Bucky’s jaw noticeably tensed. Oh, he knew plenty, but he couldn’t say a thing. His words were casual, contrasting your bristly demeanour, “Then talk to me. Tell me.”

As if it were that easy. At his careless response, your tone rose an octave. “What makes you think I’d want to talk to—”

“Shh, hey, it's okay,” came another voice from behind you, and you whirled around to face Steve, startled by his sudden arrival. Your nails – or what was left of them, at least – bit harshly into the wood of the door frame as you did so, thick paint chipping under your fingertips. It hurt.

Your heart started to race. You felt cornered like an animal, trapped between the two of them even though that couldn’t be further from the truth and unsurprisingly, you lashed out.  

“You don’t know me either,” you spat at him. You knew you were being unreasonable, but you couldn’t stop the nasty words spilling out of your mouth as your heart pounded uncomfortably within the confines your chest. “God damn it, Steve, stop acting like you do. I mean, you obviously think you do, because you kissed me—”

Your breath started to come out in short, harsh pants, then, and you tried and failed to focus on your breathing as dark spots dotted your vision. You were too vulnerable, here, too on edge, too worked up. Why you thought it was a good idea to strike up a conversation in this state, you weren’t sure, and furthermore how you even passed the psych eval was beyond you. Your long stint in therapy had helped considerably, but you clearly still had some trouble coping. It wasn’t getting back in the field that worried you now so much as the aftermath: when you returned to the safety of your bed, alone, with your intrusive thoughts and pathetic survivor's guilt.

“I know. I know.” Steve spoke to you softly, kindly, with a certain familiarity that made you desperately want to trust him. “You're right. I’m sorry, doll.”

Just that single word triggered the hysterics.

“Doll? Doll?  God, you keep– both of you, you keep—” A sob escaped you, then, and your knees went weak. You slid down the wall, burying your face in your hands, not wanting them to see your tears. Your voice was muffled, but the two of them could still easily hear you. “Stop being so nice to me! I don’t—I don’t deserve it, not after—”

This was a nightmare all on its own, breaking down in front of Steve and Bucky. You barely even knew either of them, and in the short time since you’d met them, you'd done nothing to warrant their kindness - anyone's kindness.

Maybe you weren’t ready to go back in the field. Not yet. Not after what happened to your partner. If you went back in the field, then it would happen again. Maybe you'd even manage to get an Avenger killed next time.

That thought in particular made you cry even harder.

Steve said your nickname quietly, like a plea, before his resolve cracked and he pulled you into his arms. He was no stranger to seeing you this way, but it never got any easier. Even after all this time, he still found himself wanting to help you.

You stiffened at first, but the comforting smell of him made you pliable like putty and you leaned into him, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. It scared you how easily he was able to get you to trust him, especially now, when you were the most vulnerable you’d been in a very long time. It had been over a year since your last panic attack, and you certainly didn’t miss the feeling, the distinct loss of control. You felt like you were losing your mind.

The fabric of his shirt brushing against your cheek gave you something to focus on, something tactile, something real. As you worked to control your breathing and your frenzied thoughts, Steve stroked your hair and whispered sweet words of encouragement into your ear to help you ride it out, things like, “I've got you, sweetheart,” and “You're safe.” It was like he knew exactly what to say. You caught yourself thinking that he must have done this before, because if he hadn't, then damn, was he talented.

It only took a couple of minutes for you to calm down. Record timing, really.

When you started feeling a bit more normal, you sniffled, pulling back just enough to shamefully meet his eyes. Where you expected to see judgement, however, instead you found him looking at you so tenderly that you nearly forgot how to breathe again. Steve used his thumb to smooth away a few stray hairs from your damp, flushed face, and your overheated skin tingled pleasantly at his touch.

“There you go,” he said softly. “That's it. You're okay.”

It took a moment for you to regain enough sense to speak, and even longer for the embarrassment to kick in - and then you pulled away a bit more, stammering quickly, “God, I’m- I’m so sorry, Steve, I...”

Steve just smiled at you and shook his head, as if to tell you not to worry about it. After that, his eyes focused on something behind you. You followed his gaze and saw your other neighbour squatting there, brows furrowed in concern.

When Bucky saw that you weren't crying anymore, he breathed an audible sigh of relief and full-on shoved a box of tissues at you before he sat down on your other side, bumping his shoulder into yours.

The ridiculous sight of it – the big bad Winter Soldier shoving some kleenex at you – made you crack a watery smile. You took one apologetically and dabbed at your red-rimmed eyes and runny nose. “I’m so sorry. I’ve got some, uh… issues, if you hadn’t already figured that out.”

Bucky leaned back on his hands and grinned. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. We won’t hold it against you.”

You knew he was teasing you, and you let out a particularly unladylike snort. “Gorgeous? No way. Look at me, Bucky. I’m a mess.”

Bucky shrugged. “A gorgeous mess.”

At that, you finally laughed.

You were completely mortified by the entire ordeal, of course, but something had changed. Some part of you trusted them - really, truly trusted them. It was stupid and naive, but you wanted to trust them, so you did. Somehow, it was that easy.

Predictably, your long lost appetite chose that particular moment to come back in full force and your stomach growled.

Steve stifled a laugh as he got to his feet, extending his hand to you. “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

When you took his hand, a familiar warmth settled in your chest. For the first time in a long, long while, it felt like everything would be okay.

---

Tags: @isysen, @jennmurawski13, @hermionesalvatore84, @patzammit, @fairytaleprincess8314, @argonclearhero

Part Seven

[str-spangled-banner]

Against the World - Tony Stark x Reader

Request: I completely lost the pure request itself and all the kind things I remember you saying, but this is basically a Tony!YoungReader where he doesn’t like the age difference between them but still loves her!

Warnings: Age difference, (25 year old reader x Tony) kissing.

Words: 2 475

A/N: Sorry for being away for a couple of days! I’ll try and post more next week. Please tell me what you think! (Also I’m sorry for any typos I’m too lazy to read through this one as I’m posting it.)

TAKING REQUESTS!

He took a sip of his coffee, walking down the long, glass-walled, hallway to the lab he had occupied with his current project. He was more than tired. Closer to wrecked. He had slept for three hours in his room at the Tower before he had woken up. Day and night he worked and woke up just as he started falling asleep. It was like he was in a spiral of bad habits and he couldn’t get out-

He lowered the cup from his lips, his jaw dropping and eyes staring into Y/N’s lab where she was sat at a workbench, leaning over her latest project with intense focus. Her dedication to science and tech was something he did not just admire tremendously, but it was insanely attractive. So few women in his life shared his interest with the same amount of passion as he did.

He was so mesmerized by her that he barely noticed her catching him looking and waving at him through the glass wall. He hastily waved back and swallowed harshly, stepping inside the lab he had given her, which was the one as close to his as possible.

“Hey.” He smiled as she took a break from her tinkering. “You’re up early.”

She looked up at the clock on the wall which stood at barely six in the morning. She shrugged, smiling warmly and being much more awake than him. “I went to bed early last night.” She explained and he wished the same would apply to him. It felt as if his body could shut down at any second.

“Oh, likewise.” He huffed, attempting to sound reassuring but only exaggerating his nervousness. “Got some good shuteye and now I’m ready for the day.”

“Really? Those bags under your eyes says otherwise.” She raised a brow and watched the dark and sulking skin under his reddened eyes which were begging for sleep.

He rubbed his free hand up and down his neck, forcing a smile to not let his spirits drag her beautiful soul down. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t get as much as I wanted, but I’m still ready to work.”

She stood up from her seat with a hopeless sigh, walking towards him. Tony froze as she walked around him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“You need sleep, Tony. You’re always working and it’s taking its toll. I mean, geez, your muscles are ridiculously in need of this right now.” She said and squeezed his shoulders, rubbing her thumbs into the muscles with whatever skill she had learnt from practicing on others.

“Oh yeah, whatever, little to the left.” He said sarcastically whilst putting his coffee down, knowing it’d put a smile on her face.

She chuckled behind him and squeezed a wince out of him by roughing her grip on his shoulders again. “Stop! It’s not funny, okay?” She spoke between her ceasing laughter. “This is about your health and you need to take it more seriously.”

“I am taking it seriously. I’m having you massage my shoulders.” He said just as cockily as before, but this time she didn’t laugh. Instead, she grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to truly lecture him, but the surprisingly close space between them rendered her silent.

Her hands were on his shoulders, her eyes locked onto his lips before moving up to his warm, brown, eyes. He was equally as lost in her. His eyes weren’t able to tear away from her own lips, not even when he noticed how she looked up into his eyes. He was barely in control of his right hand that slowly began to move from her hip and up her side. Her arms reached further and her hands traveled from his shoulders to the back of his neck and he could feel her cautiously pull him down for her but it was there he snapped out of it.

“I’m-” He felt pathetic, tears burning in his eyes and threatening to slip. “I can’t.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re-” He didn’t know what to say either. He let his eyes flutter close as if Y/N would go away if he did.

“I’m what?” Her voice broke and his heart ached at her fear of not being good enough for him. If she only knew how opposite their reality was.

“You’re young…” He couldn’t leave her to imagination. He didn’t have the heart. “You’re too young…”

She was at a loss of words at first, but she had always been quick witted, another quality he loved about her amongst the dozens of others. “I’m twenty five, Tony. There’s just…”

“Over two decades between us.” He completed her sentence.

“Why does that matter? Is it because of your own opinion, or because of others?” She retorted instantly. He didn’t want to answer that question. She would end up being right in the end and he would end up torturing himself for submitting.

“Because I’m old enough to be your father-”

“But you’re not.” She closed the space between them again and he couldn’t tear away as she placed one hand over his cheek, using the other one to guide his hand back to her side. “You’re not my father. You’re my coworker, my friend… And I can’t be the only one of us that have felt the electricity between us the past, few months.”

She wasn’t. Every day he would be tortured by her. She felt like the forbidden fruit to him, testing his temptation.

“Please tell me I’m not standing here and you don’t feel a thing for me?“

“God no.” He couldn’t let her continue on that track. “Of course I feel something too, Y/N, but it’s not right. I should know better.”

“You shouldn’t.” She attempted to pull him down to her again and he gave in slightly, causing her lips to practically move over his as she spoke. “Who says this isn’t right? I sure as hell don’t.”

“Well, the rest of the world does…” He sighed, shutting his eyes and inhaling her calming scent.

“Why would you care about the rest of the world? They don’t have anything to do with us…” She stood up on her tiptoes and reached for his lips with her own, but he pulled back once more, no intention of submitting to her again.

“Y/N, please… This is already difficult for me…” He pleaded and she was beginning to feel how much of a fool she was making of herself by continuing to push Tony. “Don’t make it any harder.”

She felt the embarrassment creep up her cheeks, wanting nothing more than to reverse time and tell Tony she was busy as he had came into her workshop. “Sorry…”

That single word had been like a knife through his heart. He wanted to grab her, kiss her like the world depended on it, but he remained still. He watched the hope in her eyes of something more than coworkers vanish gradually until it was gone.

“I’m gonna go now…” She stated as she began to move towards the door out. He was too lost in his own thoughts to do the right thing and leave her alone in her lab. Instead, he watched her leave him, regretting everything he had said and done.

It had been a week of horrid conversations where they would barely exchange a couple of words. The team had noticed since day one and the anxious awkwardness was starting to leave permanent damages. The more time that went by the more it felt as if their relationship would remain like that forever.

He was sat in his private lounge, slowly sipping on some bourbon and watching the landing slide which hovered above the balcony, when the elevator dinged and the doors opened up.

It was Y/N.

“Hi…” She forced a smile, watching Tony hastily put down his drink and get up from the couch, turning towards her.

“Hello…” His lips parted, barely believing she was speaking to him. He glanced down her clothes which were promotional of Stark Industries, yet she looked as good as ever.

“I was just worried since you missed dinner.” She looked behind him to his drink before meeting his eyes again. She could tell how little sleep he must have gotten. He looked awful, like he hadn’t slept for the entire week since their moment in her lab.

“I did?” He questioned, looking down at the watch wrapped around his wrist to see it was nearing midnight to his surprise. “I- I didn’t realize…”

“I was also wondering what we are going to do about this?” She motioned between them. “I can’t live here if this… Cold shoulder, is going to last. I don’t have a problem in moving I could go back to-”

“Don’t.” He warned her, walking up to the elevator where she remained. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“I’m not joking, Tony, don’t you realize that? I understand that I crossed the line this past weekend and you have every right to ignore me, but I can’t have this in my life. This… Denial, this neglect…”

He looked down her plum lips, feeling the bourbon wander to his mind and cloud his judgment. “Please don’t move…” He begged, taking yet another step closer and becoming just as close as the time where their feelings had begun to reveal.

“Don’t be so cold towards me.” She bargained, hoping he would accept her offer. She looked up at him and saw how he evidently had his stare glued to her lips and not her eyes, her pure reflexes parting her lips which had became Tony’s invitation.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, feeling the sweet taste of white wine from the long dinner she had surely had with the others. He let his right hand rest beneath her ear and his left one at her back, bringing her closer and sighing as she wrapped her arms around his neck, their kiss deepening.

“Tony…” She attempted but was cut off by his lips wrapping around her own. She couldn’t resist him. She wanted her common sense to take action but she had felt something for Tony for too long to deny his incredibly joyful kisses.

She felt his hands inch down, passing over her behind, before resting at her thighs where he launched her up to wrap her legs around his abdomen. She complied and let him carry her to the backless part of the lounge sofa where he laid her down carefully.

“I love you.” He emitted from nowhere, making her hand push him away from her to meet his stare.

“What?” She didn’t want to believe it.

“I love you… I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll say it a thousand times more because it’s the truth.” His hips moved down to between her legs as he leaned in for another kiss, savoring her lips.

“However much I want to believe this, you’ve been drinking tonight.

“That’s my first glass.” He answered truthfully, although she found that hard to believe. “I swear to you Y/N, this is me talking, not the liquor.”

“Really?” She questioned. “Then hoe come you changed your mind? Last Saturday you sounded pretty clear in what you wanted.”

She allowed him to dip down for yet another kiss and her stomach fluttered as his tongue slid against her gracing lips, sending a shiver through her body which left goosebumps in its wake.

“Because of what you said. Why should I care about the rest of the world? They don’t have a goddamn thing to do with you and I.

“Tony…” She knew he was tipsy, no matter what he said. He kissed her again and she sighed at the sweet sensation. “If you can, without regret, kiss me in the morning? Then we can talk… I don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret.”

He let out a long and deep breath, looking down to where their bodies met as he hovered above her.

He gave in. “Alright. Tomorrow morning.” It sounded almost like a promise.

She heard a knock on her door at seven in the morning. She hurried to get dressed, too newly awoken to have any clear thoughts. She rushed to the door as the third knock erupted and opened it up. In the hallway outside stood Tony, a look of determination on his face.

Just as the silence between them began to grow too long and she was about to break it by saying something, Tony crossed the space between them and kissed her again. She allowed herself to mold into his arms and enjoy the feeling of his gentle lips against hers.

“See?” He said as he broke loose, chest heaving. “No regrets.”

She looked up into his innocent eyes. “Really?” She couldn’t help but question. He had seemed so determined when they first spoke about whatever it was they had between them. To see such a drastic change seemed too good to be true.

“Two hundred… I’m so sorry that I rejected you before, so sorry for the things I said. That’s not how I feel… This is.” He kissed her again and together they stumbled into her bedroom until they backed up against a wall.

She chuckled as they clumsily moved around, her hands holding herself steady on his sturdy shoulders.

He rushed around the car to get the door for her. She rolled her eyes at his hopeless need to be a gentlemen to her at all times, yet smiling as widely as ever at his kind gesture.

Two months had passed since the kiss in her bedroom. Together they had planned and thought of a way to let the team know what was happening, even if most of them had felt the loving warmth that had erupted between one another.

“You ready?” Tony asked as he laced his fingers with hers in front of the five star restaurant he had booked entirely for the team to have a dinner at. She shook her head no but smiled, tightening the grip of his hand which, was as much of a yes as he was going to get.

They walked inside together a few minutes passed the scheduled time to have everyone gathered. As the doors opened up at their arrival, the entire team turned towards them, their eyes lowering to where Tony and Y/N’s hands were connected.

“Sorry we’re late.” Tony apologized as he led Y/N to her seat and pushed the chair in after her before taking his own seat. “Traffic was awful.”

“Like traffic is the thing we want to be talking about right now?” Rhodes said, pulling his head back and raising his brows as he looked between the two.