#‘god DAMN it Bruce! you got to the count of 3 to stop biting that god damn mailman! one! TWO. TWO. AND. A HALF.’

[bruciemilf]

I can’t explain, it but Thomas Wayne should be a cigarette mom

God help you if you cross this man at 4 in the morning at a Krispy Donut parking lot cause his cat of a child chased a rat. Voice sounding like a broken car motor, but like. Sexy. “The hell are you lookin’ at?! God damn it— BRUCE. Take that outta your mouth.”

[maxdark158]

PART TWO OF BEING INSPIRED AND WRITING ANYWAY

PLEASE check out the amazing @ozmav my friend!! AMAZING!!

Characters are probably OOC because MLB is a kids show and you guys liked stressed and cursing Damian so I kept that going even though it’s probably OOC

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian tried to ignore his phone after checking it for the thirteenth time. But who was counting?

He was, actually. Because it seems the stupid worry feeling will never fucking go away! It took root, and it’s only growing. Damian wondered if drinking weedkiller works on emotions. The bitches.

He wasn’t even that worried initially! Sure, he wanted his An- Marinette to text him when she got to the hotel, but that was just… a friend thing. It’s what friends ask! And they were friends.

Damian wasn’t worried on the car ride to the manor, he had only checked his phone once then. When his father questioned him about The Riddler incident, he was thoroughly distracted and didn’t check at all. After he left the room he checked twice in one minute just to make sure he didn’t miss anything in the first check.

He checked sparsely while training briefly, adding up to eight… okay, maybe not so sparsely. But at this point the awful god damn plant had grown a mouth and it was gnawing on his sanity, bugging him every moment of peace he had.

Damian was getting really fucking sick of this whole worry business. It was awful! Why did Grayson partake in it for so many years? Why did anyone?

He was beginning to understand his classmates’ sense of humor now. But “I want to ka-shoot myself,” was not as funny as they thought it was.

Damian was so busy thinking about worrying and getting more worried – the fucking circle of life – that when he checked his phone for the fourteenth time, he realized he missed a message from Marinette.

Angel: I’m at the hotel now.

Thank fuck. Damian banished all the worry from his mind – leave, motherfucker – and typed out a response.

Damian: That’s good

Damian: Did you get in trouble?

Wait fuck the worry wasn’t gone. He wanted to smack the phone against his head. Or break his thumbs for typing that without his permission.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev must’ve been tired or something.

Angel: She didn’t leacture

Damian bit his lip. Marinette needed to work on her English.

Angel: Lecture?

Damian: *lecture

Angel: Quiet, English is hard

He could fucking understand that! It may have been long ago but Damian had to learn once too, ya know.

Damian: Understandable.

Damian: In my original question I meant any of your classmates btw

Holy fucking shit his thumbs would be cut off by sunlight he swears to all the justice league members-

Angel: btw?

Angel: Oh by the way

Damian: yeah

Angel: I’m good at text slang in French, okay

Damian: I don’t doubt you

He really didn’t. Marinette seemed intelligent if The Riddler incident had anything to say about it.

Angel: Anyway Alya tried to bother me but I’m good now

He frowned. Alya? She hadn't told him about her.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev told her off for bothering me after my ‘traumatic’ encounter with a Gotham villain

Damian: Speaking of, are you SURE you’re alright Angel

Damian sighed, letting his head drop. Okay, fucking fine he was still fucking worried and he hated it. His thumbs weren’t to blame, his fucking emotions were.

He pulled up Google to look up liquid weedkiller when his Ang- Marinette texted back.

Angel: I’m fine

Angel: I’ve survived akuma for three years, I’m not about to let some riddle fanatic with terrible clothing choices ruin my day

Damian: His clothes are that bad?

Good, subject change. Maybe he can stop fucking worrying.

Angel: Too much green, for one

Angel: Green shouldn’t be used in large portions when it’s that bright of a shade

Angel: Also the cloth itself was cheap, but the kind of cheap meant to look expensive if you don’t know cloth good

Damian frowned. That was so fucking obvious. Surely she didn’t actually make that mistake…

Damian: *well

Angel: Whatever

Angel: Also his hat didn’t match the type of suit he was wearing

Angel: If he wants to go old fashioned he should at least match the time period

Angel: Longer coat, more layers

Angel: He is an atrocity

Her comments were appreciable though. He could see where she came from.

Damian: he is

Angel: If I had time to cry then my tears would had been blood

Damian: *have

Damian grinned. If Marinette didn’t want her fucking grammar fixed she should learn how to spell in English.

A different motherfucking bitch of an emotion appeared at that thought. He didn’t like that one either. It made him feel bad for being mean.

Angel: istg

Damian: It appears you’re learning

Angel: Yepp

Damian: Also the Gotham news posted an article online about you

Might as well bite the bullet, right?

Damian: “Unnamed Teenager From France Holds off The Riddler Until Batman Arrives!”

Angel: Wait what?

Angel: But we both held him off?

Damian: I was kind of useless, you did most of the work

God damn it! Damian thought he told that emotion to get the fuck out! He was fucking Robin he isn’t useless, he just happened to not be needed at that exact moment.

Damian: I left shortly after you solved his riddle because the Robins had arrived

He grumbled to himself. He hated emotions. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever felt them before, but they were easier to ignore. This girl made them hard to ignore, and Damian wasn’t sure why.

He did know that he fucking hated it.

After a moment, he realized h- Marinette hadn’t replied for a few minutes.

Damian: You there?

Angel: Yeah. I was just reading the article

Good. He didn’t want anything to happen- motherfucking dammit.

Angel: The Riddler was bad at hand to hand combat. It was easy to take him down with the practice I have from Paris

Damian: I bet.

He saw the time on his phone. Marinette had more field trip stuff tomorrow morning, right? Shouldn’t she get to bed?

Damian: It’s getting late, Angel. We should go to bed.

Damian: Goodnight

Angel: Goodnight

Angel: Also I’ll find a chat name for you soon, promise

Damian’s smile felt weird on his face but unlike the god damn worry and fucking other emotions, he didn’t hate the feeling of it.

After replying, he prepared to get dressed for his patrol as Robin.

oooOOOooo

“Sooo, Robin,” Drake dropped down next to him. “Want to share why you were at that ice cream parlor with that pigtailed French girl?”

“Fuck off,” is Damian’s extremely eloquent response. He can say it in many different languages.

“Wait, Demon Spawn has a girlfriend?” fucking Todd over the fucking comms in his fucking awful Red Hood suit. At least his current helmet didn’t have the fucking lips.

“No, I don’t-“

“I’m trying to figure that out, Red Hood, so would you kindly butt out of the conversation.”

“Of course Red Robin, good luck getting anything out of him though.”

“I don’t have a fucking girlfriend you numbskulls,” Damian hissed through the comms.

“Wait what’s this about a girlfriend, Robin?” Grayson’s overexcited cheerleader voice screamed. Damian wanted to rip out his eardrums.

“Red Robin, I thought I instructed you to leave him alone about this,” finally, his father, for once being a fucking voice of reason, speaks on the comms.

“Bruce you said I should wait until he admits to having a girlfriend,” Drake sounded too smug, Damian wanted to cut it off his masked face. “We know that isn’t going to happen.”

“I hate this fucking family,” Damian hissed.

oooOOOooo

Marinette hadn’t missed her field trip this time. Or had she? Maybe she slept in really fucking late. Damian didn’t know. He didn’t know what her sleeping schedule was like.

She could have also been captured or killed. Those were not fun thoughts. The fucking worry was back, like a virus. Damian anxiously awaited his weedkiller.

She likely wasn’t kidnapped or dead. His father would have known by now and would have told him. He hopes. If his father didn’t tell him he’s a fucking asshole.

“Master Damian.”

“Yes?” he turned around to face Alfred, grateful to be away from the god damn brain-eating plant in his head.

“I simply wanted to prevent you from walking into that wall,” Alfred gestured behind Damian.

He glanced and – yep. Fucking hell. He almost walked into a wall because of the god damn weed of an emotion forcibly taking his mind hostage.

He was having a grand ol’ time.

“Perhaps you would like to go for a drive?” Alfred asked, a single brow raised.

Damian hesitated. “Alright. Where do you want to go?”

“We can figure it out in the car, Master Damian.” Alfred went to grab the keys and his shoes. Damian checked on when his weedkiller would arrive.

A week.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He should have paid for one-hour shipping.

“Are you ready to go, Master Damian?”

“Yes.”

Alfred didn’t try to talk to him during the drive, for which Damian was grateful though. He hated this emotion thing, and people forcing him to talk made it so much worse.

His phone buzzed. Damian pulled it out and checked it.

Angel: Kill me now

His eyes widened. What happened? Is she okay? Did someone- god fucking motherfucking dammit bitch.

Damian: What’s wrong?

Stupid god damn worry.

Angel: We have to all get lunch as a class before I’m free

Angel: I’m in the group with Liar Rossi

Damian raised a brow. Marinette hadn’t told him much about this girl in her class, but he knew she lied and nobody but Marinette knew she lied.

He didn’t like her.

Angel: Death would be sweatier

Damian: *sweeter

Angel: Rude

Damian: Anyway

Damian: You can’t die yet

Damian: We still technically didn’t get ice cream

Absolutely wonderful excuse you fucking asswhipe. Damian should be a politician with that reasoning.

He looked around, recognizing the streets. They were a bit weird from the actual street instead of the rooftops, but-

Damian: Also you’re at the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum right?

Angel: Yes I am

Damian fought to keep the smi- self-satisfied smirk off his face. Bingo.

Damian: I’m nearby

Damian: I can pick you up for lunch

Angel: OMG really? Please do I’d really really like that

Damian: omw

“Alfred,” Damian leaned up toward the front seat. “Head to the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum? I’d like to pick someone up.”

“Of course Master Damian,” Alfred’s tone didn’t betray anything about his thoughts, but for some reason that was calming to him.

The car drive to the museum was fairly short, if Damian was honest. They were only a few minutes away to begin with anyway.

When they arrived, Damian saw a redhaired girl with glasses yelling at his An- Marinette. At Marinette. He couldn’t hear what Marinette had said, but it must have been good. The red-haired girl’s jaw fucking dropped. The people behind her looked fucking dead.

Priceless.

Marinette saw him and he waved. Alfred unlocked the door, and Marinette got in. She didn’t look back at her classmates' faces as Alfred drove away.

Shit. Something must have happened. He wasn’t good with emotions though, after all he ordered weedkiller to see if he could get rid of fucking worry.

So, Damian Wayne did what any Wayne would do when faced with emotions.

Ignore them.

“Where would you like to eat, Angel?” Damian asked.

Shit, fuck, too insensitive.

Marinette shrugged. “I’m not sure, I don’t know what’s here.”

She sounded so goddamn miserable-

Damian frowned. “Angel, you okay?”

Fucking shit, stupid mouth. Learn the fucking rules. He should be banned from fucking talking.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

Damian wanted to press the issue but decided against it. If he was happy when Alfred didn’t make him talk feelings, maybe Marinette would be too.

He was a friend first – wait first before what, exactly?

“Alfred, can you take us to the nearest,” he glanced at Marinette. “four-star restaurant?”

“As you wish Master Damian.”

He hoped Marinette didn’t feel out of place, but he wanted to lift her spirits. She deserved to smile – that was a weird fucking sentence what the fuck?

Damian is pretty sure he’s losing his marbles.

“I know,” Marinette suddenly blurted out. “I know you’re Damian Wayne.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Shit. She’s probably pissed he didn’t tell her-

“I just want you to know that doesn’t change anything. You’re still my friend, and I don’t care who your dad is and who you are.”

Damian gaped at her for a moment before shaking his head. He should have fucking told her, he’s an ass. “I’m sorry you had to find out on your own. I should have told you-”

Marinette interrupted, “you didn’t have to. You don’t owe me that.”

He was confused. What?

She didn’t want to know who he was right off the bat? She was okay with that secret?

“As a stranger or even a friend, you don’t owe me any details about who you are. Ever,” Marinette told him. “You’re allowed to keep secrets and not tell me things you aren’t comfortable sharing. It isn’t fair of me to demand you tell me everything.”

Holy fucking shit.

This… this woman…

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… nobody’s ever said secrets are okay…”

Marinette shrugged. “I can’t help if I feel left out, but forcing you to tell me everything isn’t how friendship is supposed to work. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

Damian’s smile was small, and it felt a bit out of place on his face. He couldn’t find it within himself to care.

“Perhaps instead of a restaurant, I can take you both to the mansion for your lunch?” Alfred, the god damn traitor, suggested.

He wanted to say ‘have you lost your god damn marbles, Alfred?’ but he didn’t.

Instead, he said, “You sure Alfred?” like a fucking loser.

Marinette glanced at him. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comforta-”

“No, it’s not that,” he assured. Why would she think he was uncomfortable? His brothers were menaces, but he was used to them! Marinette, however... “My brothers can be… rambunctious.”

Drake and Todd were going to have a fucking field day, especially after what they pulled last night over the comms. He was lucky Grayson was working today. But those two motherfuckers…

Marinette smiled. “I can handle them if that’s the only reason you’re nervous.”

Damian thought for a moment.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He hoped she could. Because if they caused her any unnecessary harm or discomfort he would murder their asses.

With pleasure too.

But one look told Damian that he wouldn’t need to. This girl was going to be the death of him. He hoped the weedkiller was miraculously early.

He sighed. “Alfred, please talk us to the mansion.”

“My pleasure, Master Damian.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

[sirpeachess-casual]

Love your Dick Grayson Must Die series. I've seen you're taking requests. How about mission goes wrong, Rachel gets seriously injured and Dick spends the next 24h in the infirmary with her blaming himself, possibly having a breakdown at some point because she gets worse before she gets better? I love when he's in full Dad Mode and their scenes in your fics always make me cry 😭❤

24:00:00

Part 3 of the Catching Dick Grayson series, Part 9 of the Dick Grayson Must Die series

Summary: In which Rachel is injured and given twenty-four hours to pull through. With the other Titans away, it's up to Dick to keep her - and himself - from falling apart.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Bruce Wayns is a trying to be a good parent, Dick Grayson is a good parent

~~

TITANS TOWERSAN FRANCISCO

24:00:00

Twenty-four hours.

Dr. Stewart had given Rachel twenty-four hours to pull through. If she could make it that long, she would make a full recovery. If she couldn't, it was pretty likely that the rest of the Titans - who were stuck in the airport - wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye.

Dick had broken protocol by bringing the doctor here. But she was a trusted League associate and he had been desperate. So he had called her, practically begged her to come, and allowed her into the Tower. She had gotten to work with him at her elbow the whole time, passing sponges and wiping her brow, until she had done all she could do. Then she had given him her diagnosis, wished them both luck, and left.

He sat in the infirmary, leg bouncing, tapping her number into his League and personal phone just in case. Swallowing thickly, he started the timer.

23:59:99

Twenty-four hours and counting.

He sat back in the chair, twitching and exhaling slowly. Kory texted him, asking how she was. He gave her the full update and she promised they would be there as soon as they could. The airport was a mess, though, and it would be quicker to hurry up and wait for the storm to pass than try to work out another mode of transportation. He understood.

23:53:38

It was going to be a long twenty-four hours.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

He had made it almost exactly twelve minutes before the itch under his skin forced him to stand and get busy somehow. He couldn't just sit here and wait for the worst without sacrificing what was left of his own sanity. Taking his phone with him, he walked into the great room, headed straight for the kitchen. He set his phone on the counter, the countdown displayed on the screen, and stood staring at the fridge.

He wasn't hungry.

He was hungry, but he couldn't eat.

He should eat. Sustenance was always important after a mission or his muscles would regret it in the morning. He knew this. It had been pounded into him since he was twelve.

But he couldn't eat.

Snatching his phone back, he stomped to his room. He stayed long enough to rinse off in the shower and slip into casual clothes - a gray shirt and some pants or something. They were clean and he didn't give the outfit a second thought. Bringing his laptop and some headphones, he dragged a comfortable chair into the infirmary and got settled. Legs crossed, laptop open, headphones ready, he sat.

He checked the timer again.

22:09:47

Two hours down, somehow. Only twenty-two to go.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

He lost another hour staring into space, arms crossed as he looked out the window. The sun had risen, its beams muted by the low-hanging dark clouds. Rain pelted against the windows and deck outside, distant thunder rumbling across the ocean. It looked like the rain wouldn't be stopping for a while, the furthest reaching vestiges of a storm tormenting the city.

He heard screaming, saw a splash of blood, and blinked right before Rachel went down. Stupid flashbacks. He pulled in a shuttering breath, tightening his arms and glancing at the bed. No change and no improvement. Twenty hours to go and she hadn't made any noticeable inch of progress.

Breaking pose, he marched to her bedside, tapping the monitor. He switched between windows, checking her brain activity, blood oxygen levels, anything that he could in any way understand. The numbers remained the same, maddeningly refusing to improve.

Oh, how he wanted to call Dr. Stewart and hear a trusted professional reassure him it would be fine. Or maybe Kory and let her fiercely kind words soothe him. If only Donna was still around; she would tell him how to take his overactive mind off everything and stop the spiral before it even started. Because it was coming. It was coming fast and hard and his only hope was to stave it off for the next nineteen hours.

Fingers tapping an uncoordinated rhythm, he switched the monitor to the default view and paced away. Large hands scrubbed his face and he counted his steps, timed his breathing, cracked his knuckles, did anything he could to get his mind focused on something other than the echoes of her screaming.

The walls started to melt and he knew he had to get out. He burst out of the room, pacing and breathing heavily in the hallway. Music would help, music always helped, but he wouldn't dare deafen himself to the beeping monitors even a little bit. He could read or work on reports if he wasn't so damn distracted. The training room was too far away - an entire floor beneath the infirmary - and he didn't need anything from the bedrooms.

He could eat. He should eat. But the suggestion was passed over before it could even be considered. No way would he be able to taste anything.

That left the great room, its lounge looking traitorously inviting. A sit would be nice, a moment to relax by the fire and release some of the tension in his shoulders, but he didn't deserve it. He needed to stay vigilant, ready to pop into action at a moment's notice. If her vitals changed, he needed to be there. If she started to wake up, he would be standing over her, welcoming her back.

His reflection caught in the rain and he saw blood on his hands, his own ineptitude mocking him. He had been too slow, his stupid moral compass a crutch keeping him from doing what had been necessary. If he had only been stronger, faster, better, he could have saved her. Without his own limitations in the way, she would have been fine.

His phone buzzed and he rushed to answer it. "Kory," he greeted urgently.

"We got tickets."

"When do you leave?"

"Not for another eight hours."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Look, I'm not any happier about it than you are. None of us are. You think we want to be stuck here with what's going on?"

His face sank into his palm, rubbing and pulling at his hair. "This wouldn't have happened if we flew private. If I had just... I could've figured something out."

"Dick, you only have so many strings you can pull. And you used a lot of them just to get her and yourself back home. That's what's important; that's she's back where she belongs."

He sighed, glancing down the hall. "I just wish I could have done more."

She returned the tense exhale, muffling the mic against the din of angry travelers behind her. "No updates yet from the doctor?"

"No changes. Everything is the same from a couple of hours ago."

"Well that's good, right? That means she isn't getting any worse."

He clenched his jaw to bite back the angry remark that almost came out. No, technically she wasn't getting any worse. But she also wasn't getting any better. The clock was ticking, her time running down, and she was no closer to waking up than she was when all of this started. "I'll call you back. Let me know when you're in the air."

"Dick-!"

He hung up, checking the timer and pocketing his phone.

18:34:07

He really needed a distraction, someone to talk to, to scream and rant at. Someone who could take his blows and bites and still consider him a decent human being when it was all said and done. God, he missed Donna.

When she was halfway, with exactly twelve hours left, her heart stopped.

Read the rest on Archive of Our Own.

[beccarooni]

Coffee

(A.N: Day 5 thorbruce week! Prompt - Coffee) 

Bruce’s coffee tasted burnt. It always did, when it came from the little machine, tucked away in the corner of his apartment. Well, little as an operative term. It was firmly hulk-sized to accomodate for the green, buttons large and easy to operate. But the coffee was objectively terrible, from any standard. 

He would use the fancy coffee that lay at the back of his cupboards, but it didn’t seem right. That coffee was for him and Thor, when they settled down for an afternoon tea and cake, the light turning to an amber tinge and the warm wool of Thor’s cardigan tickling his skin. It didn’t seem right to drink it now, not when Thor had left precisely 15 minutes ago, according to his watch that he hadn’t managed to stop checking. 

15 minutes since the rain had stopped. 15 minutes since Thor had clambered onto a spaceship, a duffel bag slung over his back, and left without a word. 15 minutes since that final backward glance, awkward and fumbled, mouth opening with words that the God didn’t know how to say, how to express. Not when there was 2 minutes till lift off, and Rocket was yelling at him to shut the door already, blondie. We gotta go. 

Thor had to go. And the words were left unspoken

Bruce took another drink from his mug, cradling the oversized ceramic in his hands, trying to warm his palms. Not from the cold icelandic air (although it was cold, cold and biting, enough to send shivers through Thor’s body that just made Bruce that more inclined to wrap him in his arms, to keep him safe, to keep him warm), but just to feel something. Anything. Anything except from the faint bitterness from the back of his throat, settling in an uncomfortable lump in his chest.

Thor had just left. After everything, after Tony, he’d just left. 

Bruce should’ve stopped him. Should’ve said something, an invitation to stay, maybe. Or a plea to go with him. Or just a request for 5 more minutes. That was all he needed. 5 minutes to croak out those 3 words to Thor before he left… well, it wasn’t forever, was it?

No, it couldn’t be forever. Thor might be gone for a few months, maybe a year or two, but it wouldn’t be forever. He just needed time, right? That was all. Just some time to clear his head in the emptiness of space. 

It wasn’t forever. Bruce couldn’t accept forever. 

A sudden crack of thunder jarred him out of his thoughts, sending the cup crashing to the floor and a yelp from Bruce as he jumped back. The hot coffee wasn’t quite as scalding as it would be if he was Bruce Bruce, Hulk’s thick skin provided him that protection. But instinct was hard to shake. 

That crack of thunder had been loud - too loud. Counting Mississippi's wasn’t really going to help when the storm seemed to be churning right above his head, rain pounding against his windows that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. He turned to the window, staring at the black clouds, alight with blue lightning. That confirmed his suspicions - this was a Thor storm.

A knocking at the door followed, loud and urgent, and Bruce was on his feet before his mind even caught up with him. His feet were moving across creaking floorboards, but his mind was stuck on Thor, Thor’s here, he came back. He didn’t abandon you, he’s there. On the other side of the door, a thin panel of wood and metal, that was all that was separating them. Not the void of space. Not the emptiness of the gaps between stars. 

He opened the door with perhaps a little too much force, given the loud protest of the hinges above him, and Thor’s face was staring back at him. Wild beard, wilder eyes, face slightly tinged red and chest rising and falling with quick breaths. 

“Sorry. I couldn’t…” Thor blinked up at him, narrowing his eyes as if he was staring at the sun. 

“I couldn’t leave. Not without talking to you. I’m sorry, I just… Sorry.”

“It’s ok.” 

Bruce’s hands were moving of their own accord, fingers gently brushing against Thor’s shoulder, gently, as if he was reaching out to a mirage. Unsure if he was even real. 

“It’s ok. I’m glad you came back. I...I missed you.”

“Missed me?” A nervous laugh came then, Thor’s fingers nervously digging into the fabric of his sleeves, working threads loose. 

“It’s been 15 minutes. You can’t have missed me.”

“I did.” 

Bruce felt that familiar feeling begin to claw up his throat, strangling him, the beginnings of tears beginning to prick the sides of his eyes and fuck, he felt pathetic. 

Thor was here, in front of him, in the here and now. He had his 5 minutes, he had them, here in his hands. And here he was, wasting them on tears. 

It really was awfully inconsiderate of Thor, and the rest of the world, to go blurry. He knew Thor knew better than to be blurry in front of him, it was rude.

Even ruder for him to gently shush Bruce, stepping inside the apartment and taking the larger man in his arms, gently directing his face down into the crook of his shoulder. Ruder still to lower him to the floor when his legs couldn’t support him, when the weight of all the loss suddenly got just that little bit too much to bare, to lean over him so blonde hair was tickling his cheek, the gentle rumble of thunder tethering him to reality.

“Bruce, Bruce.” Thor’s voice was close to his ear, but hushed to a quiet whisper, nose pressed into thick curls of black hair. 

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I knew if I said goodbye to you I’d just...I don’t know, I’d do something stupid and mess things up. And I can’t mess up things with you, I can’t.”

It took a while for Bruce to collect himself enough to choke out a few more words, taking a slow and stabilising breath to banish the waver from his voice, and wipe away the dampness of his eyes with his sleeve. 

“Thor, stop apologising. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Bruce sat back, one hand wrapping firmly around Thor’s wrist to pull him closer, closer, to rest his head against the cushion of Bruce’s chest. Because Bruce was damned if he was letting go of Thor now. 

“You need some space, I get it.”

“No, no. I shouldn’t have left without saying anything to you. That’s…it’d be awful of me, Bruce. There’s things I need you to know and I didn’t say them because, I don’t know. I guess I’m a coward.”

“Thor, stop.”

Bruce placed his hand gently over Thor’s mouth, shaking his head with a watery smile.

“You’re not a coward. But...I would like to talk. If you want to.”

Thor nodded enthusiastically under his hand. 

“Great. Then...let’s talk. But, maybe we can do it on the sofa. Instead of on the floor.”

***

Afternoon turned to evening, and the 5 minutes turned into a final night together. Thor would leave in the morning, that was something he’d made clear. Earth held bad memories for him, there were still gaps in his soul that had been carved out by golden gauntlets and glowing stones, and he needed time to figure those things out. He’d said as much to Bruce, barely meeting his eyes over the steam from his cup of coffee, cradled in mitten-wrapped hands. 

He’d told him a few other things, as they’d lain in bed that night. Words spoken into the comforting warmth of Bruce’s chest, legs intertwined, green fingers tangled in blonde hair. 

He’d told him that he loved him. Always had, apparently. Starting from when he couldn’t really place a particular point, but Sakaar, it seemed, had opened up more doorways than interdimensional wormholes. 

And Bruce had bared his soul before the light of the dying star. Told him his own whispered worries, deep into the night.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” He’d murmured into Thor’s hair, pressing as close as he could, as humanly possible, curled around him tightly. 

“Not when I feel like I’ve only just found you, after all these years.”

“You won’t.”

Thor had stretched, pressing a careful kiss onto the bottom of Bruce’s jaw. 

“I’ll come back for you, Bruce. I always will.”

And the next morning, he was gone. Left after a clinging hug, and then a kiss, and ok, maybe a few more kisses on top of that, but eventually they had broken apart. Thor’s hand wrapped around Stormbreaker’s handle, and he’d turned back to Bruce, leaning into the soft touch of an emerald hand. 

“I’ll call you often. Any chance I get, I’ll call.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll visit, too. Whenever we’re close enough in the ship.”

“I know, Thor.”

“And If I see anything that reminds me of you, I’ll get it, and I can bring it ba-”

Bruce bent downward, cutting off his next few words with another painfully gentle kiss. 

“Thor, I know. I’ll be okay.” He leant forward, pressing his forehead against the demi-gods, a shaky sigh escaping his lips. 

“Go on. Get outta here. You stay away too long and Quill’s gonna regain control of the ship.”

“Unlikely. I’m very charismatic. Those guys love me too much.” 

Thor grinned, a little tear-stained maybe, but a grin. A spark was back into his eye, the blue once again lit up like the lightning that crackled around Stormbreaker’s handle. 

“I’ll see you soon, beloved.”

Bruce raised his hand in a wave, a small smile pricking the corners of his mouth as the wind swirled, and the storm began to rage. 

“I’ll see you soon.”

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

allegiance (kinds of love)

Tony Stark x Reader

Part Five of the Kinds of Love Series

Summary: domestic fluff, submissive tony stark and a phone call from another avenger that forces you to consider just what the relationship is.

Characters/Pairings: tony stark x reader, clint barton

Warnings: the beginnings of sexual situations, sub!tony because damn

Word Count: 4,226

Prequel - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 -

MARVEL MASTERLIST

“Why do you keep buying all of those?”

You shrugged, tucking hair behind your ear. A smile curved your lips as you felt Tony’s hand come to rest on the small of your back. His chest brushed against your shoulder, and he pressed a kiss to your temple by way of greeting before he continued past you. He moved towards your desk, loosening his tie along the way, his jacket already gone. You heard the music you’d had playing change to the first song in a playlist you’d labelled ‘Astro Boy’. You rolled your eyes in amusement.

“I’m thinking about getting them framed.”

Spread out over your comforter was an array of tabloid magazines, each one’s cover emblazoned with a photo of the man currently standing behind you. Most of them had a smaller image superimposed on it as well, and each one of those featured you, either alone or alongside Tony.

A few of them featured shot of the two of you in the aftermath of the battle of New York, screen-grabbed from news reports. It still impressed you how gutsy the journalists who’d stuck around had been. Each shot was slightly blurring from a shaky camera or obscured by broken walls or the back of another Avenger. Regardless, according to the tabloids, the shots apparently painted a picture.

***

You were completely exhausted. You’d still been gaining control over your abilities when Nick Fury had approached you and offered you a role in the Avengers Initiative. You’d been taken aback to hear that SHIELD had been monitoring you since you’d first discovered your psychokinetic powers, but you had signed on all the same. You’d been determined to put your abilities to a use that might actually help someone.

You’d spent the battle on the ground with Steve, Nat and Clint, providing cover for them and for the fleeing civilians. Using your abilities so much had caused a huge power drain; your nose had started bleeding before the portal had been closed and you had one hell of a headache.

You sat sandwiched between Thor and Tony in the shawarma joint the latter had pointed out earlier, one foot planted on your seat. You’d eaten more than you thought you’d be able to and was now picking at your leftovers absently with one hand. The other was tucked against your chest, your wrist bruised and slightly swollen from a bad fall. You could feel blood drying on your forehead, itching your skin, and you wiped at it with the back of your good hand.

Bruce had told you that you needed to see one of the medics treating the wounded, but you’d insisted they needed it more. You could wait. Maybe it was foolish to hold off, but you were the youngest among them by almost ten years, and you didn’t want to seem weak.

Everyone was silent for most of the meal, lost in their own thoughts. You barely looked up from the mess of plates and crumpled napkins in front of you, but you were eventually dragged out of your own fog when Thor asked for the rest of your fries.

You nodded absentmindedly and pushed the plate over to him, wrapping your good arm around your knee. He offered you a smile by way of thanks, and you gave him a tired one in return. Movement to your left dragged your eyes away from the God beside you; Tony had just tossed a balled-up napkin onto the table, leaning back in his seat. His eyes were focused on nothing, but his gaze was weighted, his face drawn.

You’d barely spoken to the billionaire in the few days you’d known him, but despite his jokes and cavalier request for shawarma, you could tell he wasn’t as relaxed about what had just happened as he was pretending. You chewed your bottom lip for a moment uncertainly, before leaning over to speak quietly to him.

“Hey,” you murmured, and Tony jerked slightly, as if you’d pulled him from thoughts of his own. He turned his eyes to you, and there was a hollowness to them that made you clench your good hand, nails biting into your knee. Bruce glanced at the two of you at the sound of your voice briefly, before his eyes returned to his plate. “Are you okay?”

Tony didn’t speak, but he offered you a small, wan smile. His hand reached over to you under the table, giving your thigh a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smiled back before returning your eyes to the table.

***

The friendly gesture had never been considered as anything else, not by you or any of the other Avengers as far as you knew, but now the tabloids were using it as proof of a secret affair between you and Tony Stark while he was still involved with Pepper.

Other magazines had paparazzi shots of the two of you on the streets of Manhattan as civilians – if you could ever consider Tony one of those. These were often declared secret dates and rendezvouses, even though they were stops at Starbucks for coffee or a deli for sandwiches, rather than the traditional five-star venues Tony typically took his dates to. You’d been seeing Tony for almost two months now, but while the others living in the compound were aware that you spent more nights in Tony’s room than your own, you were both keeping it private.

Still more magazines featured pictures of you on the compound grounds, taken from the front gates with a long-range lens. These articles usually declared you a live-in mistress. Each cover bore salacious headlines in bold print:

A SUPER ROMANCE?

WHILE CAP’S AWAY, STARK WILL PLAY

IS BARRICADE A SUGAR BABY?

Your personal favorite featured a picture of you leaving a doctor’s office after renewing a prescription:

IRON DADDY: ARE THE SUPERHEROES EXPECTING?

You’d been collecting the tabloids each time you’d left the compound over the last couple of weeks, after a few of your classmates had brought them to your attention. Your role as an Avenger, but like Bruce and Clint, you preferred to try and keep your two lives separate. Still, most of your classmates knew about your extra-curricular activities, and no problem addressing it. You’d barely made it into the lecture hall one Tuesday morning before a girl you barely knew had thrust a magazine clipping into your hands, demanding to know if it was true.

The article had claimed that the two of you were secretly married.

“Why exactly would you want to frame them?” Tony asked in amusement, and you felt his body brush against your back, his breath feathering over the side of your throat. The media’s interest in a relationship neither of you had even defined to each other had become a running joke between the two of you.

“Kind of like a Media’s Greatest Misses type deal,” you explained. “There’s leftover pesto in the fridge from lunch if you’re hungry.”

“Mmm…” Tony kissed your cheek again. “You mean you aren’t… ‘Hot for Teacher’?” he asked teasingly, pointing past you at one of the magazines. The inset photo featured the two of you on the N.Y.U. campus, grabbing lunch during one of his visits as a guest lecturer.

“How could I be? You weren’t even my teacher,” you pointed out, rolling your eyes. His hand withdrew, taking a place on your hip. “I don’t even belong to that department. Which they’d know if they did any amount of actual research.”

“Shame.”

“My lack of a lab coat or the teacher thing?” you asked, watching his reflection in the mirror above your bed. “You can’t seriously be into the whole naughty school girl thing, Tone. It’s so… cliché.”

“School girls? Please, give me some credit.” He shook his head, a smirk on his lips. “You in a sinfully tiny skirt, on the other hand…”

You felt his other hand glide over your backside, and you laughed. “Yeah? Well, you’ll just have to deal with the sweats.” Undaunted by that, his hand gave you a teasing squeeze. “You’ve been home for like five minutes, Tony.”

“But I’ve been gone all day,” he said with an exaggerated pout, meeting your eye in the mirror. He held your gaze as he lowered his lips to your neck, brushing his lips against the edge of your jaw. They tickled below your ear, his teeth catching the earlobe briefly before his voice rumbled intimately against your skin. “Didn’t you miss me?”

Your breath caught slightly, and you exhaled shakily as his chest brushed against your back. “Is that all I am to you, Mr. Stark?” you teased playfully, bending down to tap one of the covers with your finger. “An in-house booty call?”

“Course not, that would be wrong.” He assured you, stepping past you with a smirk. He picked up another tabloid and tossed it towards you. You caught it hastily. “Apparently, you’ve moved in because you’re my illegitimate child.”

“Ew, Tony. Ew,” you groaned, tossing it back down onto the bed, nose wrinkled.

Tony laughed, pushing tabloids to the side so he could flop down onto the duvet. You rescued a few that he missed quickly, scooping them into a pile and carrying all of them over to your desk. You turned back to find Tony smirking cockily up at you, ankles crossed and his hands tucked comfortably behind his head.

“What are you doing in here anyway?”

“This is my room, Tone,” you pointed out with a small smirk of your own. You leaned back against the desk, folding your arms over your chest. “Where else would I be?”

“Couldn’t find you when I got home,” Tony said with a pout.

Your smile grew, and you arched a brow. “I’m in my own room. How hard could you have looked?”

“Guess I just got used to you being in mine.”

You couldn’t help the blush that rose in your cheeks, and you bit your lip to quell your smile. “Is that a good thing?”

“Haven’t had a complaint so far,” Tony said affectionately, holding out a hand. “C’mere.”

You closed the distance between you and the bed and took his hand in your own, enjoying the warmth of his slightly calloused skin against your palm. He wrapped his fingers around your own and tugged you closer, so you bent down to press a quick, gentle kiss to his mouth, you other hand tickling his jaw. You pulled away after a moment, butterflies in your belly. “How was work?”

Tony’s expression fell slightly, a tiredness blossoming in his dark eyes. “Complicated. Ross still has a lot of hoops he’s trying to get me to jump through.”

You frowned, brushing your fingertips over his cheek. The Sokovia Accords had been signed by you and Tony both, as well as everyone else who’d fought alongside him at the airport, short of Peter and T’Challa (neither of them were official Avengers after all, and Peter had an identity to protect), and between Stark Industries obligations and his charity work, Tony was spending a lot of his time being harassed by Ross. He’d spent more than a month doing initial damage control to try and lessen the consequences Ross had decided upon for the others; he’d spent a lot of time working to get deals for Clint and Scott in particular so they could see their families.

“You should let me help,” you said softly, rubbing circles into the back of his hand. “I signed the Accords too, Tone.”

He squeezed you hand appreciatively, offering you a small smile. “Always looking out for me.”

“Someone’s got to,” you replied. Tony chuckled lightly, drawing the back of your fingers up to his lips. He kissed them softly. “But seriously, folks. I want to help. They’re my friends too.”

“Noted.”

“Tony…”

“Hey, I promise.” Tony assured you earnestly, kissing your hand again. “Ross might be an asshole, but you’re still one of the founding Avengers, no matter your age. And if he doesn’t listen to you…” Tony smirked mischievously. “…I’ll kick his ass.”

“Aw, baby! You’d do that for me?” You asked, affecting a girlish, teasing tone.

Tony’s smile widened into something more open, more genuine. “Did you just call me baby?”

You paused. “Have I… have I not done that before?”

He shook his head slowly, the curve of his lips warm and almost triumphant. “Not once. The closest I’ve gotten is an exasperated ‘Tone’.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly. “Say it again.”

“It’s not always exasperated.” you blushed, biting your smiling lip.

“Are you really going to hold out on me, sweetheart?”

You pretended to consider that, slowly raising your leg and slinging it over his hips. You lowered yourself onto his lap; Tony’s hands immediately found your thighs, smoothing over the worn fabric of your sweats. “Maybe I’m just waiting to see what happens when you’re not expecting it.”

“Really, now?” Tony’s hands moved to your waist as he looked up at you with those melted-chocolate eyes. You bent over him, bracing yourself with one hand by his shoulder. He arched his neck to meet your lips with his own, but you held back, brushing your nose against his in a teasing eskimo kiss.

“Really. You’re not the only one who gets to call the shots, Iron Man.”

The smallest of groans rumbled in Tony’s throat at the suggestion in your tone. His fingers flexed on your waist. Still, in true Stark fashion, he pulled back until his head rested on the pillow again and fixed you with a mocking smirk despite the curiosity burning in his eyes. “Are you really trying to intimidate me while you’re wearing sweatpants?”

You took your time before answering, straightening up again. Your eyes avoided his idly, watching your fingers as you slowly unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt. You watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, smug to see it shudder slightly as you ghosted your fingers over the skin you’d just revealed. You bent down again to press a teasing kiss to the base of his throat, your teeth grazing his skin before you moved to whisper in his ear.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what was underneath.”

The adam’s apple in Tony’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and you felt the length of him twitch beneath you. His hands tightened on your waist possessively, as you traced your fingertips down his chest. You lingered at his sternum, caressing the arc reactor’s scar for a moment before undoing the rest of his shirt and tugging the hem out of his pants.

His hands moved around to take hold of your backside, and you smacked them away. “Did I say you could touch?”

Tony shook his head slowly, eye alight with intrigue. He removed them slowly, holding them up in surrender.

“Then don’t,” you said, voice firm.

You’d seen the suggestion of Tony’s submissive side a few times, but you’d never had the chance to explore it. You didn’t exactly have a lot of experience being dominant, but the newfound lust darkening his gaze and the way you could feel him hardening beneath you made something inside you flutter. And the idea of watching Tony come undone was a heady thought.

You took hold of his wrists and guided them up above his head. You held them there as you leaned in to speak in his ear, teasing the lobe of it with your teeth for a second before you did. “Keep them there, baby, or I’ll have to make you.”

Tony groaned headily, his hips rising into yours. You weren’t sure what had done it for him more – ‘baby’ or the promise of bondage – but you could feel the length of him against your thigh and you nipped playfully at his neck in response, your breath warm on his skin. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, you sat back again, scraping your nails down his stomach to tease the soft hair below his navel.

You rolled your hips languidly against his, giving him a breathy moan as you watch his eyes roll back. Your fingers came to rest on his belt, and you unbuckled it slowly, eyes on Tony’s face. His teeth were buried in his lip, his expression a mix of anticipation and pleasure that made you tighten.

Tony’s fingers twitched, and his hands clenched as you continued your slow grind against him. You smirked, lowering yourself to bump your nose against his again, denying him the kiss he once again tried to claim. Instead, you peppered kisses down his throat, your teeth teasing the curve of his collarbone. You sucked a bruise into a pectoral, and Tony’s hands flexed again, a groan catching in his throat. His hips bucked up into yours, his eye closing.

“Hey, eyes on me, baby,” you ordered playfully, pulling his belt out of the loops of his pants and tossing it to the other side of the bed. Tony’s eyes opened, his pupils blown, and you rewarded him by finally giving him the kiss he kept reaching for. It was quick, your tongue barely brushing over his lips before you whispered in his ear again. “Good boy.”

“Fuck, sweetheart…” Tony moaned. His fingers were curled in the pillow, gripping it so tightly you could see the muscles cording in his forearms. You smoothed your hands over them feeling the way each one bunched under his skin. “You’re killing me here.”

You grinned, rolling your hips against his in a steady rhythm, your hands braced on his bare chest. “But what a way to go, right, baby?”

“Kiss me? Please, Y/N…” Tony almost whimpered, and the expression on his face made something inside you quiver.

“Oh, anything when you say ‘please’, Tony,” you whispered with a cocky grin, leaning down slowly.

You jumped before your lips met, the loud ring of your phone catching you off-guard. You almost ignored it, but the tone was the one you’d assigned to each of the original Avengers team. Considering you and Tony were the only ones currently still… avenging, you scrabbled to check the Caller I.D. You’d been hunting for some sign of Nat and Steve and the others for months.

You straightened immediately when you saw the name pop up on your screen. “It’s Clint!”

Tony sighed, still trapped underneath you, but nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Tony…” you raised an eyebrow despite being torn about your current situation.

“Y/N,” he said pointedly. How he managed to look exasperated with you while pinned between your thighs, half-undressed and hard. Still, he knew perfectly well that you had FRIDAY monitoring the news and blogs to try and locate the rest of the team, and while Tony was more skeptical about their return, he hadn’t made any move to discourage you from trying. Clint had been your only link to those who’d fought on Cap’s side, but aside from your reports on Rhodey’s recovery, he’d largely ignored your messages. “Just answer it.”

“You’re the best, baby,” you told Tony, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before swiping to answer. It was a video call, and you grinned widely as Clint’s face appeared on your screen. “Clint! Hi!”

Clint looked about as tired as he always did, but the smile he gave you was genuine and warm. He was slouched comfortably on the couch, his hair mussed by the cushions. You felt a small pang seeing his face; Clint’s radio silence was understandable, but it had still stung. He was the most easy-going out of the team, and he’d been the first one you’d actually bonded with, so losing that connection with him had been one of the biggest blows after the fight at the airport.

“Hey, kid. Long time.”

“I noticed,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you noticed Tony tucking his hands behind his head. “How are you? Are the family okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, they’re fine.” Clint said, running a hand through his hair. “Laura’s picking the kids up from school.”

“And you?” you asked awkwardly. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged. “House arrest gets boring quick.”

“Clint…” you felt Tony shift underneath you, and you glanced past your phone to see him rubbing his eyes. You reached down to squeeze his thigh sympathetically. And while he didn’t move his hand, he did give you a weak, grateful smile.

“You’re not alone, are you?”

You sighed and shook your head; you’d barely looked away for a second or two but of course the archer had noticed.

“Tony’s here. Want to say hi?” you suggested weakly, and Clint’s expression hardened slightly.

“I’m good.”

“Clint.”

“I was hoping this was going to be a private conversation.”

“By all means, Barton.” Tony spoke up, classic Stark bravado in place. “I’m a little caught up at the moment, but I could cover my ears and hum.”

“I’ll take it in the hall, Tony,” you replied dryly, pressing the phone screen to your chest as you clambered off of his lap. Best not to give Clint a show – you were pretty sure that Rhodey was still coming to terms with the one Tony had given him.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Tony swatted your backside as you left, and you made a point to roll your eyes at him and mouth ‘stay’ before closing the door behind you. Once out in the hall, you held your phone up again, leaning against the wall. “That was rude, Clint.”

“You might have told me he was in the room.”

“You might have returned a text or two,” you shot back. You were elated that Clint was finally talking to you again, but you didn’t need to listen to the two of them snipe at each other like fifteen-year-old girls.

“Right.” Clint sighed apologetically. “I’m sorry, kid, I’ve just been…”

“Bitter?”

“That’s a word for it.”

“Clint, I’m sorry about what happened at the airport,” you said. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t agree with Steve. And I’m sorry that you got dragged out of retirement for it. But I’m pretty sure you’re the guy who told me you’re supposed to fight for what you believe in.”

“I do talk a lot of shit, don’t I?” Clint joked weakly, and you smiled.

“I’m pretty sure you were talking about our Super Smash Bros. tournament at the time.”

“I still think playing as Diddy Kong was a cheap move.”

“Well, you said you were sick of me playing as Pikachu.”

“You sided with Stark.”

It took you a moment to register the abrupt change in conversation. You slid down the wall until you were sitting, your knees bent in front of you. “I chose the side I thought was right. Signing the Accords seemed like the right thing to do. To keep us all together.”

“Didn’t really work, did it?”

“Steve’s the one who left, Clint,” you pointed out. “He’s the one who gave up on the team.”

“And Tony?”

“What about him?”

Even through the camera, you could see Clint studying you with those eyes that never missed anything. “I read a lot. Not much else to do once the kids are out and the work is done.”

“Yeah? You finally check out The Hunger Games, Katniss?”

“You and Tony…”

You sighed. “You really listening to the tabloids, Clint?”

“I know what Tony can be like…”

“So do I.”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to—”

“To what?” you asked, irritated. “Look out for me? You’ve been ignoring me for months, Clint. The only time I hear from you is when I let you know how Rhodey’s doing, and even then, its barely a sentence. You can’t suddenly decide to start caring again just because you don’t like what you read in some trashy magazine.”

“So, you know what they’re saying?”

“Of course, I do. I don’t live under a rock.”

“And is any of it…”

“True?”

“Kid—”

“I’m not a kid, Clint. I’m an adult. And what happens between me and Tony is between me and Tony.”

The archer sighed, rubbing his neck. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“And neither does he,” you replied, completely sure. “Besides, I can take care of myself. I learnt from the best.”

Clint gave you a small smile at that. “Cheers, kid.”

“I was talking about Nat.”

“Rude.”

You could hear a door open on his end, followed by shouts and a stampede of footsteps. Clint looked up as one of the kids called out a greeting to him. “You should go.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Look out for yourself, alright?”

“Always do. Say hi to Laura for me, okay?”

“I will.”

“And Clint?” you added. “Don’t be a stranger. Please.”

He gave you a small, affectionate smile at that. “I miss you too, kid.”

The call ended and you sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket. Standing slowly, you pushed hair back from your face. Steadying your breath, you turned and opened your door again.

You were taken by surprise to find Tony standing on the other side of it – undoubtedly he’d heard your conversation with Clint. He didn’t say a word though, no snarky comment. Instead, he closed the distance between you, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you.

.

.

.

tags: @lovely-dreamer19 @spacesuitsforemergency @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @magnificentmariposa @lol-you-thought @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd

[minimickzy]

Pretend || Peter Parker

Request: Had a idea and went with it 

Summary: Peter tells Flash about his amazing girlfriend and asks (y/n) to cover for him

Characters: Peter Parker x Reader, Mj, Ned, Flash

Word count: 2050

Warning: Fluff, bad writing 

a/n: Infinity War has launched me back into the Marvel fandom so feel free to send in requests <3 also idk why I’m posted this so late but hey, why not?

Peter Parker had got himself into a trap even his spidey side couldn’t get him out of. In the heat of the moment Peter had yelled across the entire lunch room that he did indeed have a girlfriend and she was absolutely perfect.

Of course this had been a huge lie that he knew damn well would earn a killer beating from Flash later on. “Oh is that right Parker?” The bully spat toward him “Y-yeah, of course!” Oh god Parker you’re digging your own grave.

Ned was giving him the side eye as now the whole student body’s eyes were glued on the table. “Are you bringing her to homecoming or is she too busy in Canada?” Peter tensed. Shit. “Sure, why not.” Ned groaned from next to him as flash gave him a smirk, “can’t wait to meet this mystery lady Parker.”

As soon as Flash had made his way from the table and people were no longer paying attention to the nerd table, Ned smacked peter on his shoulder, “Dude what the hell were you thinking? I know you don’t have a girlfriend!” Peter shushes him and put his head down on the table. “Oh god... what did I do.”

Peter had only one even comprehensible idea. (y/n), one of the only other teenage avengers. Her and Peter were close, they worked as a team around the city with their alter egos. She might even say yes if he asked her to pretend for a night.

No one knew her identity so there’d be no problem there. Maybe a few hiccups when it came to talking to people your age. Tony doesn't really let you out of the compound unless it’s to protect the city. Other than that you take online school and train all day.

Peter had decided, he’d offer you a night out like a normal teen if you’d be his fake date to a school dance, you could just tell tony it was a retinue night out catching the bad guys and he would never question it. Peter would ask you tonight after training, when you’d be too tired to know what you were agreeing too.

“Damn Parker, I can’t keep up with ya when you speed off like that,” You were breathing heavy leaning against a wall at the top of the stairwell. Nat was in charge of workouts today so the big finish was to run up and down the stairs three times. What fun.

When Peter didn’t chuckle or shoot back a witty come back you turned to him with furrowed eyebrows, “You good?” Peter gave you a weak smile and nodded, “yeah, I just had a favor to ask and I’m kinda nervous about it.” You frowned and started to walk back down the stairs towards the living quarters, “what is it?” “well Um, I kinda was wondering if you would- uh- pretend to be my girlfriend and go to my homecoming with me?” You turned around when your feet hit the first landing with a eyebrow raised.

“Why?” Peter rubbed the back of neck and looked at his feet sheepishly, “I kinda told this guy I had this perfect girlfriend when he was picking on me and Ned. Just to get him off my back.” perfect? girlfriend? some guy picking on peter? You thought it over, if there was a way you could help Peter you’d of course do it and if some kids at school were picking on him then you had to step up and help your best friend out. “Sure.” Peters cheeks were lit a bright red when he looked up to you with wide eyes.

“Th-thank you. It’s uh- Friday. I can meet you at like 6 and then we can go.” You frowned, If you were going to go to homecoming with Peter, even if he just wanted you as a fake girlfriend, then you sure as hell would get as much of a experience out of as you could. “No. “ Peters face fell, “why?” “If I do this then I want you to pick me up here, I’ll convince Tony. and I want to wear a nice dress.” Peter nodded, “yeah okay, whatever you want, as long as Mr. Stark lets us go.” 

You smiled and started towards the door to the living room as peter moved to go back down to the training  gyms, “bye Pete, see ya Friday.” You smiled as you disappeared into the room full of avengers. “I thought today was the last training this week?” Nat asked and you nodded, “yeah, I uh- wanted to ask if I could go to Peters homecoming on Friday?” 

“Excuse me, what?” Tony stepped in front of you, “absolutely not. Not with that kid and not when you could be doing things to change the world.” You frowned and started to pout just a little, You had learned how to twist his arm over the years.

“Please, I want to be normal for once. No one would even know who I am.” “Yeah come on Tony, she's just a kid, let her go to a dance, it might be a nice break.” Bruce stoke up. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, “alright fine, you’d probably just sneak out anyway. Just no funny business between you and spider boy okay?” You gave him a half smile, “you won’t have to worry about that. He just wants me to pretend to be his girlfriend anyway.” Nat looked at you confused, “I thought you lik-” “yeah, but he doesn’t feel the same so I guess I’ll take what I can get.” They gave you looks of sympathy but at least you got them to let you go.

When Friday came you had figured it all out. You knew Peter was getting a ride with his Aunt May who you knew from when you and Peter would stop for water or something. Pepper had taken you to buy a dress and get your hair done and even helped you with makeup. Clint and Nat gave you the talk, which you didn’t need but still it was something you’d never forget.

When the clock hit 6 Tony, Pepper, Steve, Clint, Nat, Bruce and Bucky all sat around with you waiting. Tony nearly threw himself at the door with the bell rung, He swung it open to find a pale Peter Parker standing on the other side. “Hi-hi Mr. Stark.” You gave him a little wave and Peters jaw dropped a little, “wow, (y/n) you look- wow.” You blushed and smiled so big it felt painful.

“Come on in kid, we need to have a talk.” Tony smirked as Pepper put her hand on his shoulder and held out her phone, “and I want pictures!” Peter and Tony had a long talk in the other room and then Pictures which made you and peter both wildly uncomfortable. Nearly a half hour had passed when you finally were able to leave and head out to Mays car. “Wow Pete, what took so long? And oh Hi (y/n), it’s nice to see you!” Peter bit his lip as his cheeks grew rosy again, “Mr. Stark and Ms. Pott’s wanted pictures.” “Oh! I can’t wait to see those. You two are so cute.” Both you and Peter sifted uncomfortably in the back seat as May drove towards midtown tech.  

Now you had never been to a real high school but you were pretty sure this isn’t what a normal one looked like. When May drove up to the stairs you thought it was a library or something, it was so nice. You both thanked Aunt May for the ride before Peter helped you out of the car and shut the door behind him.

There were a few students still lingering outside but the vast majority seemed to be up in the dance. Peter cleared his throat and looked down to his feet. “Do you have ground rules?” You laughed to lighten the mood, “any what?” “Ground rules? Like no holding hands or-” “No. no ground rules.”

When you stepped through the door the music and chatter hit you like a wall of sound. There wasn’t much dancing, more teens just standing and talking kinda swaying to the beat. Peter had only ever told you about Mj and Ned, but you still had yet to meet them.

Peter let out a sigh as he put his hand on the small of  your back to led you to the group, you weren’t expecting the touch though so instead you jumped a little and turned to around with wide eyes. “So-sorry, I thought there were no ground rules and that's what couples do so I just thought-” “It's fine- just new.” You gave him a half smile and this time when he set his hand on your back with cation you leaned into the touch.

When the two of you got closer his friends turned towards you, the one you assumed to be Ned let his jaw drop, “is this-” “(y/n)” Peter nodded as Mj stuck her hand out, “Michelle, but my friends call me Mj.” You shook her hand as you smiled.

They asked you some questions, you had to come up with lies on the spot. They seemed nice, and cool. You hadn’t talked to many people your age but if they were all like this then you were really missing out. That feeling didn't last long after flash made his appearance.

“Penis parker! Where's your canadian girlfriend?” you scoffed and turned around, “I’m not canadian? Where’d you get that?” Flash eyes grew wide at the sight of you, sure enough parker had managed to find a way out of his grave. “Holy shit! You’re real… Parker was telling the fucking truth.” you frowned, “why wouldn’t he? The only person here who i think who would lie about that is you.” flash paled as he took a step back, sensing this wasn’t going in his favor.

“And that's not the only thing you have to lie about is it?” You made sure to take a quick glance down before looking back at him innocently and biting your lip. He huffed a little before running off towards his friends. “What a dick.” You smiled at peter and grabbed his hand, he tensed but didn't pull away. “Thanks (y/n).” “don’t mention it.”

Peter made sure you enjoyed the rest of the night, Tony made Happy come and pick the two of you up, He said you should be dropped off first, even though it was the longer ride, He  said he might have to talk to people. After listening to happy complain about picked you two up in the middle of the night at a highschool he shut that divider leaving the two of you with a awkward silence.

“Thanks for pretending to be my girlfriend.” peter said barely above a whisper. You had almost forgotten it was all make pretend. “Yeah, it was nothing.” “no, seriously. It was awesome.” “yeah…” you let the silence settle again as the compound started to come into view over the top of the trees, “I wish it wasn’t” you mumbled, thinking somehow Peter wouldn’t hear, which looking back was dumb considering his spidey senses. “What?” “hmmm?” “what’d you just say” You gulped as he locked eyes with you. “I uh, I said I wish it wasn’t.” “wish what wasn’t what?” you couldn’t help but look away, “This wasn’t pretend.” “me too.” you snapped back around to him, “what?” “I thought if I asked you for real you’d say no.” “I wouldn’t have.” “then do you want to pretend like that wasn’t pretend?” you nodded, “yes. I would like that.”

Peter laughed to himself lightly as Happy pulled up to the front door, “cool.” Peter smiled and jumped out to open your door before walking you up and steps and stopping before going in. “before Mr. Stark wants to talk to me can I say goodnight?” you nodded, “cool.” he quickly leaned in and peaked your lips gingerly. “Wow.” he whispered under his breath, how cute. The only thing that your smiles was the loud booming voice of Tony Stark.

“You do know there’s cameras literally everywhere right?”

taglist 

@marvels-queen-bee  @paigeyisme 

[let me know if you’d like to be tagged for marvel/peter parker or Tom holland imagines in the future]

[prettyyoungtragedy]

You and I, Just the two of us - Chapter 2

You and I, just the two of us - (AU!)

James (Bucky) x reader,  – Steve x reader (Later in fic)

Summary: The reader is reeling from a life changing event, a year later can she finally move on? Or will the past come tumbling down like an avalanche…

 A/N: Sooo I decided to do an AU! Its my first time writing one, I am rather excited so I sinceeeerely hope you all drop me some feedback, because I god damn love writing!! I added gifs so i hope that doesn't annoy anyone, 

 Word Count: 3314

 Warnings: Nothing too hectic…

1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10

The next morning, you awoke with a mouth as dry as cotton. You knew you weren’t in your bed, you could feel body warmth beside you, you open one eye and glance at the side table. You sort of remember being at Natasha’s house for dinner last night, but you don’t remember leaving.

You see a pair of men’s sneakers strewn on the floor, and you realize you are at James’ place. His black jacket is on the chair nearby and so are his pants. Your heart starts hammering and you silently pray that you didn’t do anything reckless last night, you peak under the covers and breathe a sigh of relief seeing that you are wearing one of his large t-shirts.

“Don’t worry, nothing happened.” James says huskily beside you,

You turn slowly to face him, he is devastatingly handsome in the morning, his ice blue eyes glinting in the morning light, his black hair messy and falling into his eyes. 

“Morning,” he smiled at you,

You groaned and covered your face with the sheets, “Ugh I feel like shit,” you mutter, semi embarrassed that you had obviously gotten so drunk James had to take you to his place, instead of yours.

“Yeah, alcohol will do that to you,” James chuckled getting out of bed, you look at him from the corner of your eye, his naked torso muscular torso rippling as he stretched at the edge of the bed. A blush crept into your cheeks and you quickly look away. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought.

“Breakfast?” James asked you, pulling on a black t-shirt and shorts,

“Oh god yes,” you heartily agree throwing the covers off and getting out of the bed,

You stumbled a little realizing you were still kind of drunk from last night, “Whoa there,” James chuckled, “You okay?”

You nodded, standing up straight trying to be as sober as possible, but you knew that it was futile, he could see through your façade.

“Y/N, are you still drunk?” He asked, you held back your giddy laughter and James just looked at you with a massive grin on his face,

“I think I am still drunk,” you burst out laughing, the alcohol in your system making you giddily happy.

A few minutes later, you were in the kitchen on James’ sprawling Park Avenue apartment, whipping up breakfast. It was so natural, the chemistry between the two of you, you stood beside him whisking the eggs and talking animatedly. Something you hadn’t done in a very long time, James stood beside slowly cutting ingredients for an omlette, gazing at you with a smile on his face.

It had been a long time since he had seen you acting like yourself, and it made him happy to see you returning to normal again.

“And so that’s how all the nanomolecular system works,” you finish off your sentence, walking over to the stove and toss the eggs into the hot pan,

You turn around and see James just staring at you, “What?” you ask suddenly feeling self-conscious in the plain grey t-shirt you only wore.

James shook his head, picked up the bowl in front of him, brining it to the stove and tossed the ingredients in. Then he looked at you, biting his lip, he moved closer to you backing you up against the counter,

“James…” you breathed, your heart thundering as his lustful gaze pierced you.

His muscular body now pressed against yours, he brought his faces centimeters away from yours. James suddenly grabbed your legs and lifted you onto the counter, “James, what are you doing,” you whisper breathlessly, his ice blue eyes enticing you.

“Running with it…” he replied, his voice dark and lustful,

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, you weren’t ready for this. You weren’t over Luke yet, but here and now you relished James’ touch, it had been so long.

James’ slowly ran his mouth across your exposed neck, you shiver beneath his touch and bring your hands up to his hair. He kissed your neck softly but leaving a small hickey after every kiss, you close your eyes savoring the sensation it brought you. James brought his hand to your mouth and ran his thumb across your slightly parted lips, as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulders, tilting your head, exposing your neck more.

His other hand, slowly drifting beneath the hem of his t-shirt that you wore. he was almost hesitating, waiting for you to stop him and when you didn’t he pulled you closer and brought his mouth to yours, kissing you, trailing his tongue on your lower lip. James was gentle, sensual and incredibly arousing, as he broke away from the kiss for a moment, gazing into your eyes.

Something primal in you snapped and you began to tug his shirt off, it was wrong and right all at the same time. James’ hand moved along your inner thigh, stopping at your core, but before he could do anything else, the door to the kitchen burst open and to your mortification his mother and younger sister walked in. James pulled away from you and you immediately jump of the counter, covering yourself up, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

“Oh my,” his mother gasped and looked between the two of you, with a sudden smile on her face.

“Mom! Becca! What are you doing here?!” James’ exclaimed, grabbing his shirt and struggling to pull it back on.

“Did you forget our Sunday brunch?” She said, sighing

His sister looking between the two of you, grinning widely.

“Ah crap, Ma. I’m sorry, I was busy last night I forgot to call,” he replied scratching the back of his head

You stood behind the island counter, feeling incredibly self-conscious. You had never met James’ mother or sister, only heard stories from him. They never came to his place in New York as they lived out in the Hamptons,

His mother looked at you, and smile. “Hello, I am Lara, James’ mother”

“Becca, his sister, but I assume you gathered that,” his sister chimed in,

“Oh yeah, this is Y/N,” James said distractedly,

“Hello,” you mumbled, awkwardly tugging at the hem of the t-shirt in the hopes of hiding your semi nakedness. “Uh James, I think I should go,” you say quickly, hoping to get out of this awkward situation as fast as possible. Thankfully he was on the same page as you and nodded as you both scrambled out of the kitchen, escaping his mother and sisters gaze.

“Y/N, I am so sorry” James apologized for the tenth time as you quickly got dressed,

“It’s fine,” you give him a curt response, it wasn’t his fault that his mother had just walked in on you two about to have sex. It was the whole situation that had begun to dawn on you, what the hell were you thinking.

“Can I at least let Artur drive you home?” he said, running his hand through his dark hair

“No it’s okay, I’ll just take a cab” you wave him off, he lived in Manhattan and you in Brooklyn it wasn’t that far.

He tried to protest but you shut him down, and gathered your things letting him lead you out of the apartment.

James gave you a kiss on the cheek as you got into the cab, “I’ll see you soon?” he said, almost asking,

“Yeah sure,” you respond vaguely, and then shut the door, telling the driver where to go.

James watched you go, not knowing whether he still had a friend in you or not, cursing himself for what he had done.

                                         _______________________

The next week flies by, its Friday night and you are sitting in the lab hard at work on your latest research. You had avidly avoided James after what had happened over the weekend, you realize it was a moment of weakness because of the significance of the weekend. You were lonely and emotional, and you had let that get the better of you.

Your phone starts buzzing beside you, it was Natasha.

“Hello Nat,” you say into the receiver

“Y/N,” she practically sings into the phone, “Are you still at work?

“I am,” you reply,

“Ok well get your ass home and change into something cute, we are going out!” she half yelled,

“Agh, Natasha no please don’t make me go out” You groan,

“No, I am not hearing excuses I haven’t seen you all week! Go home and get dressed I will see you in 20 minutes.” With that Nat hung up the phone, leaving you staring at your phone. You should really start putting your foot down with her, you thought to yourself.

You groaned loudly and slumped your head onto the desk, it was only 7:30PM on a Friday, all you wanted to do was escape your life and immerse yourself in your work, but you knew that was not happening tonight. With a sigh you stood up and took off your white lab coat, hanging it up before you exited the lab and headed home.

An hour later, you found yourself being led into a swanky bar in the upper east side by Nat, she wore a stunning bright yellow dress that hugged her figure, she was turning heads the second you walked into the bar. You on the other hand had dressed casual in a simple, jeans and white cropped sweater, with sneakers. You didn’t think you would be going to anything this fancy.

Bruce was already at the table when you had arrived and had ordered you a drink.

“This place is so crowded,” you moaned to him, when you sat down,

“Yeah but it’s great,” He replied with a chuckle, which surprised you since Bruce wasn’t really a fan of partying.

“Come on, Y/N let loose!” Nat says, raising her glass to cheers you, “I haven’t seen you all week, you are so scarce.”

“Yeah, works been hectic,” you lie, taking a sip of your drink.

Just then your phone and you looked down at it, It was James.

‘Can I see you?’. The simple sentence sent your heart racing, you shoved your phone back into your bag and gulped your drink down. Determined to stay away from James, you looked at Nat,

“I say we do some shots?” you say to her, she looks at you amazed and then quickly recovers and signals a waiter who comes over and she orders 6 different shots of the menu,

Bruce is talking quietly to Natasha and over the blaring music you can’t hear what they are saying, suddenly Nat looks at you with a look that you knew meant she had done something bad.

“Oh god what did you do Natasha?” you demand across the table,

She laughs nervously and looks to Bruce for support, he nods “Might as well tell her before he gets here,” Bruce says to Nat,

Your heart dropped for a moment you thought that they had invited James out as well, and you were well and ready to make an excuse and leave, but you waited to hear what Natasha had to say, “Before who gets here?” You demand,

“Okay, Y/N before you get mad at me, just hear me out.” Nat started, “So Bruce invited a friend of his to join us tonight, also to sort of meet you,”

You groaned, “Natashaaaaaa is this a blind date?”

“Kind of…” she shrugged apologetically, “I only did it because I really think its time you started dating again babe,”

You sighed and thankfully the waiter arrived in time and set the tray of shots down on the table and you immediately grab one and down it. “What’s his name? what does he look like? Do I have a choice?” you asked Nat and Bruce looking at them annoyed,

“His name is Steve,” Bruce said,

“He is devilishly handsome,” Nat added, grinning at you, which got an eye roll from Bruce,

“And no, you don’t have a choice because here he comes” she hissed at you and then waved at someone behind you.

You heart rate spiked as the mysterious Steve walked up to the table.

Natasha and Bruce stood up to greet him, and when you looked at him your mouth almost fell open in shock.

He stood well over 6 feet, and he was built like a brick shithouse. a gorgeous smile plastered on his face. He wore a plain light blue shirt and beige slacks, his chest muscles protuberant through the tautness of the shirt. But it was his face that had you basically stop breathing, he was overwhelmingly attractive. Blonde hair, cut short, the bluest eyes you had ever seen and a jaw that looked like it could cut through diamonds. There was something familiar about him that you just couldn’t put your finger on.

Natasha had obviously seen you face, and she quickly introduced you to him.

“Steve, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Steve” she said, gesturing between the two of you,

“Hi,” he said extending his hand with a stunning smile on his face,

Natasha nudged you when you hadn’t responded, “Oh Hi, uh hello.” You say gawkily, shaking his hand,

After pleasantries were exchanged, Steve took a seat beside you and ordered a beer.

“So, it’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N” he says turning to you, “Bruce and Nat have told me so much about you,”

“Oh dear god, I am scared to ask what they told you,” you lightly chuckled,

“Only good things,” Steve replied, chortling.

“Steve sort of works with me,” Nat said,

That’s when it clicked where you had seen him before, Steve was on billboards, in magazines and had graced the cover of Forbes magazine for 30 under 30.

You looked at Natasha, a little dumbstruck, but you didn’t say anything instead you smiled at him,

“Ah, that’s why Natasha’s never mentioned you, she never tells me about work.” You joked,

Of course, Natasha had mentioned him, several times to you. you didn’t know she was dropping hint because she wanted to se you up with him.

Steve chuckled, “And what do you do?” he asked,

“Oh, nothing as interesting as working for the New Yorker, I work at Stark industries in R and D for nanomolecular energy.”

Steve whistled, “You’re a scientist?”

“Something like that I guess,” you shrugged,

“Well I can cross meeting a scientist off my bucket list,” he said charmingly,

“hey man, I’m sitting right here.” Bruce chided, with a chuckle.

Steve was enthralling, he was charming, and sweet and chivalrous throughout the evening. He kept your drink topped up and the two of you got lost in conversation, almost forgetting Bruce and Natasha were there. Nat noticed this and made up an excuse for her and Bruce to leave,

She yawned loudly, “I think its time for us to get going darling,” she said to Bruce, who knew what she was doing and put on the façade with her,

“Yeah, you know us old couples, can’t be out till too late,” he added for good measure,

You rolled your eyes at them, knowing what they were doing. Steve looked at you, waiting to see if you were leaving with them, you were tempted to leave but Steve was showing you such a good time, you would feel bad if you cut the night short.

“Get home safe guys,” You say, hinting that you were staying, and a grin broke out on Natasha’s face,

“You two have fun then,” She said giving you a quick hug and bidding Steve goodnight as well,

“Get her home safe,” Bruce said to Steve, after saying good night.

As Nat and Bruce left, you looked at Steve, “So, where shall we go next?” you asked, smiling at him.

He smiled back at you, his eyes lighting up. “Well, its only 11:30, and I still haven’t seen the Rockefeller Center Christmas lights,” he said,

You hadn’t gone to the Rockefeller Center Christmas decorations since you broke up with Luke, it was your tradition to do so. Luke would always make a big deal about going to have dinner at the center and the two of you would give each other an early Christmas gift. You heart stopped for a moment when he mentioned it, but not wanting to put a damper on the night you plastered a smile on your face and agreed. It was time for you to move on from Luke, you couldn’t wallow forever.

Steve drove the two of you two the center, as you were expecting he drove an exceedingly fancy black Mercedes Benz and you had to ask,

“I have a question?” You say from the passenger seat, turning to look at him,

“Shoot,” he responds,

“I am assuming you are the Steven Grant Rogers? Actor, Model, philanthropist?” You say,

Steve laughs mirthfully, “I suppose I am,”

“And how exactly do you know Natasha again?”

“She directed my New Yorker magazine cover.” He replied, “She’s easy to get along with, we became fast friends a year ago actually.”

You frowned, Nat hadn’t mentioned him before which was weird for her, but you assumed she didn’t because you were with Luke back then.

“of course, she did,” you chuckled, picturing Natasha directing Steve’s magazine cover shoot. It was hilarious.

A few moments later, Steve pulled into the parking lot near the center and you both got out. The lights as always were spectacular and all the snow around it made it even more beautiful. Steve waked beside you as you made your way to the center, marveling at all the lights. A dull ache in your chest when the memories of this place came flooding back to you.

“Let’s grab some hot chocolate,” Steve suggested, and you just nodded in agreement afraid if you spoke your voice would betray your evident sadness.

Walking over to one of the barista’s Steve began to tell you about his life, and where he grew up. funnily enough it was in Brooklyn,

“I still go home to my mother’s place in Brooklyn,” he said, thanking the barista and handing you a piping hot cup of hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully because you were starting to freeze.

“Where are you from?” he asked you,

“Oh, originally I’m from Baltimore, I grew up there, I moved to New York to attend Rutgers” you reply, taking a sip of the steaming beverage,

The conversation continued as you both shared your pasts with each other, Steve was easy to talk to. Being here with him made this whole experience easier, it was almost one in the morning when the two of you decided to leave. Steve drove you home and being the gentleman, he was, he got out the car and walked you up to your apartment.

“Funny, I used to live in this exact building a few years ago,” he said,

“Really, which floor?” you ask, walking into the building with him,

“The 6th floor,”

“I’m on the 12th” you say, hitting the elevator button as you both stopped at its doors,

“So…” Steve says awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, “Thanks for tonight, it’s been a real pleasure getting to know you Y/N.” he said,

“Yeah, you’re definitely not what I expected Steve Rogers,” you laughed a little,

“Can I see you again?” Steve asked, looking at you almost pleadingly, extending his phone to you to add your number.

“Sure,” you reply and then take it and punch in you number and handed it back to him.

A big grin broke out on Steve’s face as you did so, “Goodnight Y/N” he said, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek,

“Good night Steve,” you reply, as the elevator dings on the landing and you get in. Feeling like a giddy high schooler with a crush.

Tags: @addictionmarvel​

The next chapter will probably be up today, it’s finished i am just ediditng it! I hope you guys like it..!!

[generallynerdy]

11 Jerks To Wake Up (Avengers X Reader/Loki X Reader Part 2 (12 Days of Fandoms: Day 2))

Day 1

THIS IS A PART 2 TO DAY 1. IT IS RECOMMENDED YOU READ DAY 1′S POST BEFORE THIS OR YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND.

Summary:

Sam and Reader have

way

too much fun waking everyone up to exchange gifts.

    Days slip by endlessly and wrapped gifts begin to appear below the tree. After a few...incidents, you have to keep Friday from anyone scanning the gifts, not to mention make a whole separate security system for below the tree. Damn it, Tony.

    One unintended surprise is when Loki arrives alongside Thor. Apparently, Thor wants his brother to be able to experience Midgardian holidays as well, not that he really asked Loki. Loki is kept under close watch and no one really brings up the topic of Secret Santa to him, so you simply assume he isn’t involved.

Excitement continues to build as the day approaches and it’s practically all you can think about. Honestly, you can’t wait for everyone to open their gifts. See, the rule is that everyone can open their gifts a week before Christmas and they have until Christmas morning to figure out who gave it to them. No external resources other than your own sleuthing and wit are allowed; no gadgets, no security camera feeds, nothing. Having some experience as a SHIELD Agent, you’re sure to keep anything Nat and Clint can use far from their reach, as the both of them are your main concern.

Finally, finally , the day is here. Of course, most people plan to wake up as they usually do and go about their daily routines. However, you have different plans.

At 6 am, on the dot, you tiptoe over to Sam’s room, where you can just barely see light from below the door. Sneaking forward, you knock lightly in the rhythm of Shave and a Haircut, to which the door creaks open. It reveals a smirking Sam, still in his PJs, who holds up a can of whipped cream.

“Ready?” He whispers hoarsely, having woken up just a while ago.

You nod excitedly, “You got everything?”

“Yup. Uh, we’re avoiding Nat and Bucky, right?” He shifts nervously, terrified.

You giggle quietly, so as not to wake anyone else up, “I’ll just wake them up gently, Knowing both of them, they’ll be up in a bit anyway.”

“Yeah, Steve should be up soon, too. Did you butter the floor in front of the fridge already for him?”

“Yup, that’s done. The alarm for Tony’s lab- or should I say bedroom- is set for 30 minutes from now, too.” You count off on your fingers all the people you have to wake up at the same time. You only have 30 minutes to prepare, but you and Sam have really been prepping for weeks. “Vision’s already been informed and he’s gonna wake Wanda up around then.”

“Bruce said he’s gonna get up himself, so I’ll leave that, cuz I ain’t that stupid. Whaddya wanna do with the kid, Scott, and Birdman? Oh, and Rhodes, too.”

“Scott and Peter fell asleep in the lounge last night, but Clint is in his room. I got a couple of airhorns, if you wanna do that?”

“Sounds good. What about Rhodes and Birdman?”

“Hm...I think there’s ice in the freezer and I’ve got a bucket on hand.”

“Hell yeah, but you do that to Rhodes, since he likes you, and I’ll get the pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, okay. You go make sure the senior citizen can get up off the floor. I’ll get the assassins excluding Clint and make sure Bruce is up. Steve’ll make coffee first thing, knowing him, so you can check on Vision and Wanda while he’s doing that. I’ll get Thor with the whipped cream, you get T’Challa with...wait, what are you doing to him again?”

“I’m just gonna play that Nyan Cat thing until he wakes up.”

“That is ingenious. Okay, so then I’m sure Thor will drag his brother along with him and if not, not much lost I guess? We’ll meet up in Clint’s room and dump the bucket on him so we can sprint to Rhodes’ and be safe while we drench him in ice water, too. Tony’s alarm will go off and I’ve already asked Friday to record it, so we’re good in that department, as well as Cap’s fall, just in case you miss it. Then, we’ll head over to the lounge and get Scott and Peter. Sound good?”

“Yes, ma’am. Best damn Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“Hehe, alright, let’s get to work.”

 “Damn it!”

“Wow, Cap, you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Can it, Wilson, and help me up.”

“He’s beauty, he’s grace, he’s Mr. United States!”

“Sam, don’t you dare-”

“Help! A senior citizen has fallen and he can’t get up!”

“Come over here so I can kick your ass!”

“My grandma runs faster than you! But you’re the same age, so I guess it’s not that a big of a deal- Shit!”

 You sneak quietly nearby Nat’s room and knock quietly on the door, knowing that entering without making a sound would be a deathwish. She answers groggily and rubs her eyes. “You better have a damn good excuse for waking me up this early, or at least something that’ll get you off the hook.”

You smile proudly and motion vaguely to the kitchen. “Steve’s making coffee.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Language, Nat, you know he doesn’t like it.”

“Please, Rogers can kiss my-”

“Nat!”

The next target is Bucky. He doesn’t keep a gun anywhere nearby, not since Steve confiscated it from him. It wasn’t safety issues for anyone else per se...it was more for Bucky’s own good.

You knock gently on the door and push it open, glancing briefly into the room. Bucky is stirring in his sleep, but he isn’t fully awake yet. You approach his bed, whispering. “Bucky? Bucky, c’mon. It’s time for Secret Santa.”

Bucky blinks awake slowly, rubbing his eyes and looking up at you. He croaks, “Mornin’, doll. What time is it?”

“Six thirty.”

“God, (Y/N)-”

“Hey, Sam wanted to get everyone up at 5. I saved your ass.”

He sighs and chuckles, burying his head into the pillow before sighing. “Yeah, okay. Is the punk making coffee?”

“Yup! C’mon, sleeping beauty.”

 You’re pleased to see Bruce already in the kitchen alongside extremely exhausted members of the household that you’ve already woken. They’re quickly joined by Wanda and Vision, who woke themselves up but were checked on by Sam. Said bird boy isn’t anywhere to be seen, so you assume T’Challa is either chasing his ass down or he’s about to. Glancing at your clock and seeing that it’s already 6:45, you get a move on, grabbing the whipped cream from the fridge.

Steve tilts his head at you. “(Y/N), who is that for?”

You smirk devilishly, “Two guesses, Steve.”

Bucky snorts from where he’s sipping his coffee and Nat shares an equally amused expression. Both seem to be more proud than disappointed, while Steve is amused and somewhat disappointed, though he tries to hide the first part.

 Waking Thor is considerably harder than you thought and it takes a lot of tickling his face with a feather. Just as you’re working your magic, someone enters and scares the shit out of you.

“Thor-” A low voice sounds from the door before it stops in shock.

You turn in terror to the voice, thinking you’ve been caught. You sigh in part relief upon seeing the God of Mischief standing in the doorway. You’ve still been caught, but- considering who caught you- maybe you won’t be as deep in shit. “Oh, uh, hi, Loki! How’s it goin’?”

“What are you doing in my brother’s chambers?” He cocks an eyebrow, glaring at you with those gorgeous eyes.

You bite your lip nervously. “J-Just waking him up by getting him to hit himself with whipped cream.”

There’s a moment of silence before a sudden snort takes you by surprise. You smile brightly at the realisation that it was Loki who made this sound. He approaches and glances at his slumbering brother. “Here.” He waves a hand over Thor’s face, which briefly glows green for a few moments.

“What-?” You don’t get a chance to finish asking him about what he’s doing, though, as Thor starts to twitch in his sleep. You see things in slow motion as he slams his hand upward to itch his face.

You gasp in pure amusement and excitement, Loki sniggering beside you. Suddenly, Thor’s eyes snap open. “Shit!” You exclaim, grabbing Loki’s hand and dragging him out the doorway with you in sudden terror.

“Loki!”

The two of you are gasping with laughter as you drag him down the hall and back to the hallway where you reside, so that you can get ready to dunk ice water on Clint’s head. Finally, the both of you are safely in the hallway, gasping for breath between laughs and panting heavily as you lean against the walls for support.

“That was so worth it.” You chuckle, clutching at your side.

“Verily.”

There’s a bit of silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s more of a comfortable silence before you realise you don’t have long before 7. “Shit, I have more to do. See you in a bit, Loki!”

At that, you disappear into your room, not looking back at the God of Mischief, who acted very out of character just now. Not like you would know, though, considering you don’t know him at all since before he moved into the tower temporarily this holiday.

 Clint is understandably furious when you and Sam dump water on his head, but he can’t catch up with you quick enough before the two of you escape to Rhodey’s room with another bucket of water. At this point, Sam abandons you to go get the air horns to wake Scott and Peter, leaving you to wake the colonel on your own.

“Damn it, (Y/N). Why?”

“Aw, c’mon, it woke you up, didn’t it?”

“Coffee. Coffee wakes me up. Not ice water.”

“I beg to differ. Look, I’ll buy you that special kind of coffee you like as a peace offering.”

“It better come with my own mug or so help me-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everybody else is up but Scott and Peter, but we’re about to wake them up. If you want that coffee before presents, you better get your ass up, Colonel.”

Day 3

[itsthebats]

Soulmates

It's Valentine's Day, and Jason and Tim are doing a questionnaire to see who knows more about the other.

AO3

Jason’s kissing Tim when he suddenly stops.

            They are in Jason’s house, and they are making out and it’s almost three in the morning when Tim sputters, “Wait!”

            Jason jumps like three feet away, startled, and looks at Tim as he sits straight and closes his eyes for a second and then opens them in this creepy way that says he’s got a bad idea Jason’s not going to like. Tim says, “Today I was with Steph, and we were talking about Valentine’s Day, you know.”

            “Ugh,” Jason mutters, because they tried. Tim sneaked out in Jason’s house—Jason thought he was a robber and almost shot him—to make Jason cookies, though Tim burnt them and instead of adding sugar he added salt, so they couldn’t eat them. Jason bought him flowers, but walking home someone tried to rob him and the flowers ended up kind of dead. And when they were seeing a movie on the TV and were about to kiss—at least they had that—they turned their heads at the same time and Tim somehow hit Jason in the nose, and Jason’s nose started bleeding. So after the bleeding stopped, they went to the bed and tried to sleep until Tim kissed Jason’s neck and they started making out again, this time successfully. Until now, at least.

            “But it’s not anything difficult,” Tim says, smiling. Jason rolls his eyes, and Tim punches him lightly on the shoulder. “We were talking about what we were going to do, and I told her that I was going to come and make you cookies and—”

            “Yeah, yeah, go on.”

            “Okay, so she told me that a magazine she likes to read—”

            “Oh no.”

            Tim’s smile gets bigger, and Jason prepares himself for the worst. “There was this questionnaire to see how much you know about your girlfriend or boyfriend. So, she told me that we should totally try to do it.”

            Jason looks at him in the eye, tries to think of all the ways this could go wrong—technically, it’s not the 14th anymore so their bad luck has passed, but it could still go wrong: maybe one of them don’t know one really important thing about the other and that messes up their relationship, or maybe they know something the other’s not supposed to know and their relationship ends up messed up anyway.

            But it can be fun too, and Jason’s not one to back away from a challenge—this is some kind of challenge, right?—so, what the hell.

            “All right, let’s do it,” he says, and Tim gets his phone.

            “She texted me the questions,” he mumbles, scrolling down his screen. He sticks his tongue out, and Jason cant’s help but think that he would have preferred to keep kissing him, but whatever. “Okay, I got them. There’re twenty questions. This says that if you answer at least ten correctly, you know a fairly amount of things about your partner, but if you answer more than fifteen, you’re soulmates.”

            “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

            “Yeah,” Tim says, putting a strand of his hair behind his ear, “but it’s fun. Do you want to start?”

            “Okay, but know that I’m going to know everything about you.”

            Tim snorts. “You don’t even know everything about yourself.”

            “Hey!” he complains, kicking him. Tim laughs. “Stop talking and let’s see who knows more.”

            “All right. So.” He reads the question and laughs to himself. “How many boyfriends or girlfriends have I had before?”

            “That’s easy,” Jason says, counting in his head. Okay, so, there’s Stephanie, obviously, and… that’s it, right? Or maybe… there was this girl, Lucius Fox’s daughter, but Jason doesn’t think they were together-together. No, wait, wait, Zoanne something, Tim was with her for a while. Two, then?

            “I’m waiting,” Tim says, smirking, and Jason kinda wants to punch the smirk off his face.

            “Shut up,” Jason says, still thinking. Okay, two then, three counting Jason. Tim doesn’t look like the guy who’s had many partners. That’s it, three. “Three.”

            Tim laughs, and Jason curses. “No! I can’t believe you failed the first one. And I’ve told you about them!”

            “How many, then?”

            “Four! Steph, Zoanne, Ariana, and you.”

            Ariana? “Who’s Ariana?”

            “Ariana Dzerchenko,” Tim says, as if Jason had a clue. He rolls his eyes and adds, “We were together for a bit. But it didn’t work out. You still have nineteen left, don’t worry. My turn. How many girlfriends or boyfriends have you had? Um… okay, that’s difficult. You’re always bragging about how many people you’ve been with, so it’s kind of impossible to guess. Ten?”

            Now it’s Jason’s turn to laugh, because oh boy does he have it wrong. “You think you’re so fucking clever,” he says, smirking, and Tim’s smile goes away immediately. “One, genius. I’ve only been with you.”

            Tim opens his mouth, and he only says, “No.”

            Jason rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “I’ve messed around with a boy or two,” he says, shrugging, “but I’ve never had a boyfriend. That’s 0-0.”

            “Whatever,” Tim says, pouting. Jason leans on and presses a kiss to his lips, and Tim’s smiling again. “Next one: what’s something I do that I wish I didn’t?”

            That’s really easy. “You bite your nails.”

            “True. Okay, you pull your hair when you’re nervous.”

            “Riiight,” Jason mutters, because he doesn’t like to be reminded of that. “1-1.”

            “What are the last two books I’ve read?”

            “Pfft. Try harder, you always leave your books around when you’re reading them. Confessions, from Rousseau, and Memoirs of Martinus Scriblerus, from Alexander Pope, you nerd.”

            “That was easy. And don’t call me a nerd, because the last two books you’ve read are Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and How to kill a Mockingbird. Neeerd.”

            “Shut up, next question.”

            Tim sticks out his tongue at him, and Jason cannot help thinking that he looks like a kid with the blue shorts and sleeveless, white shirt he’s wearing. He looks like someone who has just come back from the gym.

            “Who’s someone I like but don’t want anyone to know I like them?”

            “You love Kim Kardashian.”

            Tim groans loudly, and Jason smirks. “That’s not something you’re supposed to know,” he moans, dragging a hand down his face.

            Jason shrugs. “Told ya, I know everything.”

            “Anyway, you like Bruce.” Jason shakes his head, but it’s kinda true, even though he won’t admit it out loud, not now, not ever. “We’re 3-3. Next question is: what’s the weirdest thing I’ve done while I was drunk?”

            “You ate dog food because Conner said you wouldn’t dare.”

            “Oh my god,” he moans, and Jason has to hug his stomach because of how hard he’s laughing. “Don’t remind me of that. Ugh. I was sick for an entire week.”

            “I still have the video,” Jason says proudly. “Now, what’s the weirdest thing I’ve done?”

            “You put on your Red Hood helmet, got to the GCPD rooftop and shouted ‘Fuck Batman’ and then shot the bat-signal.”

            “Oh boy, I didn’t remember that. But nope. That’s not the weirdest thing.”

            Tim’s jaw hangs open. “What.”

            “I put on the Batman cowl—I was wearing my pajamas—went to the GCPD and shouted that Batman was gay. Then I walked to Gordon and told him, ‘I’d be careful if I were you’ and laughed really hard. Someone ordered to arrest me, so I started shooting at the ceiling until I got out and then I don’t even remember. I think I passed out somewhere and Dick picked me up because I woke up in his apartment.”

            “Oh my god.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Jason.”

            “I gave up drinking for a while after that.”

            “Oh my god,” Tim repeats, looking at him in awe.

            Jason smiles and points at the phone. “Go on, go on. I’m winning.”

            “You’re so weird,” Tim mutters, but then he asks, “If I started a cult, what kind of cult would I start—what the hell, what kind of question’s this?”

            “What kind of magazines does Stephanie read?” Jason thinks of something Tim loves, and less than two seconds after that he answers, “A coffee cult. You’d make drinking coffee instead of water a rule.”

            Tim giggles, and says, “Fair point. And you, you’d start a cult against clowns. An anti-clowns cult.”

            “Yeah, probably. 4-5, and I’m still winning. How many are left?”

            “A lot. Okay—oh my god, all right. Um. What’s my favorite superhero?”

            “Sheesh. That’s a hard one. I’ll say… Batman.”

            “That was an easy one.” Tim lets the phone away and lies down, his head on Jason’s lap. He yawns and then says, “Yours is Wonder Woman.”

            “She’s my girl crush.”

            “You don’t even like girls,” Tim says, looking up at him, and Jason pinches his cheek.

            “Next one.”

            “Who’s the nicest person I’ve ever met in my life?”

            And after a beat, they both answer at the same time: “Dick.”

            They laugh, and Jason says, “He’s just a sweetheart.”

            “He’s good,” Tim agrees, closing his eyes. “But this has nothing to do with us. I mean, what kind of questionnaire is this?”

            “A shitty one,” Jason answers, running his fingers through Tim’s hair. “I’m still winning. Heh.”

            “Shut up.” Tim opens his eyes, looks at the screen and smirks. “This one’s easy. When’s my birthday?”

            “Fuck, Tim,” Jason says, and Tim starts laughing because he knows damn well that Jason cannot remember dates. The only dates he has never forgotten are his birthday and the day he died, and apart from that he can’t remember anything—not birthdays or anniversaries or anything that has to do with dates, he’s so bad at it. “You know—”

            “Yeah, yeah, you don’t remember my birthday. I should be sad, but I’m happy because now we’re even.”

            “Oh, yeah? Then when’s my birthday?”

            Tim rolls his eyes, waits a second and says, “August 16th.”

            “Damn it.”

            Tim whoops. “Yes! 7-7.”

            “Okay, listen, I’m tired,” Jason mutters, and Tim looks at him with a smug look; Jason punches him in the shoulder, and Tim laughs. “One more question. The question to end all questions. The one who answers it correctly wins.”

            “What if we both answer it correctly?”

            “Then we are really soulmates. Now, read the question.”

            “The question to end all questions,” Tim repeats, grinning. “What’s the most awkward situation I’ve ever been on? No, no, wait. Let me answer this one first.”

            “Go on then, you little shit.”

            “You were at the manor because you’d been intoxicated with the Scarecrow’s gas, and you were in the kitchen, sat on the island, eating chocolate cookies Alfred made. Bruce walked in and saw you and you were so, so drugged and you told him, ‘You’re the most fucked up dad ever,’ and then you went to him, put a cookie into his mouth, hugged him and said, ‘But you’re the only one I’ve ever had, so I don’t hate you too much.’ That’s your awkward moment.”

            Jason cringes, because remembering that moment is painful. Bruce told Dick what happened, and then Dick told Jason, and Jason wanted to die again just because he knew Dick wasn’t going to let him forget that ever. Every time they meet, Dick somehow finds a way to bring that up. Every. Time. It’s awful.

            “Well. My turn. The most awkward situation you’ve ever been on was when you were at this meeting with Bruce and you burped really loudly and everyone just shut up and looked at you and Bruce didn’t talk to you for a week.”

            Tim winces, then smiles, and he painfully shakes his head. And when he opens his eyes is when Jason knows he’s fucked up. “That was awkward, but it’s not the most awkward situation I’ve been in.”

            “Come on!”

            “Sorry, Jay. You lose. I win. Boom, baby. I’m the best boyfriend ever.”

            “Yeah, whatever, cowboy. But what’s the awkward situation?”

            Tim flushes, and Jason now knows that he must know what the awkward situation is. Tim sits and mumbles, “But it’s very awkward.”

            “Spit it out, Timmy.”

            Tim sighs. “Okay. So. I’d been with Bruce for almost six months, and we were working in this really difficult case, and I discovered something relevant, so I went looking for Bruce. I heard something in his room, and my twelve-year-old-self thought, ‘He’s working out for sure!’ and I, um. I opened the door without knocking, and he—”

            “Oh my god.”

            “Selina was there, and they—”

            “I don’t believe you.”

            “I couldn’t even move, I just stared at them from the door, and they didn’t even notice I was there—”

            “Tim,” Jason says, and he’s too shocked to even laugh.

            “I heard Selina purr and I was so—it was so weird and I didn’t even know what to do. And then Alfred passed by and saw me and screamed, and then Selina and Bruce realized that I was there and screamed too, and it was super awkward—”

            “Are you traumatized?”

            “As a matter of fact, yes,” Tim says, and that’s when Jason laughs. It’s an honest to god laugh, and Tim smiles and keeps telling, “They made me sit with them in the living room and asked me if I was okay and if I needed to talk and I was like. No. Leave me alone. But they didn’t leave me alone and I could tell Bruce was dying of embarrassment, and Selina was trying her best not to jump from the window. I swear to god, I will never forget that moment.”

            Jason barks another laugh, and Tim tries to put his hands in Jason’s mouth to make him shut up, but it’s pointless because there’s nothing that can make Jason stop laughing after this. He can’t believe that Tim has never told him that, but he also understands him, and oh god, he’s never going to forget this.

            “I won, though,” Tim says, and even though Jason is a bit disappointed that he didn’t win, he’s fine because he discovered something new about Tim.

            He looks at the clock, and it’s almost five in the morning. He yawns, and Tim yawns too, and this time when Jason leans on to kiss him, the kiss lasts longer and it’s deeper and Jason thinks that he really likes being alive. He smiles, and he feels Tim smile too, and when Tim cups his face with his hands, Jason remembers the flowers and salty cookies and he feels like the luckiest person alive.

            “Happy Valentine’s day,” he whispers, and then he pulls Tim closer.

            And closer and closer and closer.

[lightshadowverisimilitude]

Chaos and Dancing Stars 3/?

A/B/O AU - Part One, Part Two. Mind the cut.

Five Years Ago

Tony wanted the day to be over. They’d stopped an actual alien invasion, he’d taken a really good shot at dying a hero, and they’d captured a live god. That had to be enough to count for a full day’s work. Really, it was his own fault that they weren’t crawling into their individual dens to lick their wounds in peace. He’d made a smart-ass comment about shawarma, and now he had to pay the price. Namely, trying not to look like his entire body was convulsing with terrible nausea while he choked down what was probably a perfectly edible plate of Middle Eastern cuisine. It was a team thing. A pack thing. Rogers had thought it was a good idea, and everyone else had fallen in line.

Biology was such a shitty, shitty, asshole-y bitch.

He slumped into the suit for support, mind running a thousand miles a minute to avoid thinking about – No. Not going there. He had a tower to rebuild, a city to rebuild, and dangerous alien tech to get off the streets before some kid ooh, shiny!’ed their way to certain destruction. He needed to figure out some kind of containment cell for the freaking god sitting in a woefully inadequate SHIELD holding facility. Thor had slapped some kind of muzzle on him, and then plopped his hammer down in Loki’s lap and told him to mind his manners. Setting aside the Geneva Convention and pesky things like hygiene and bodily functions, it seemed like a pretty slipshod response to prisoner containment.

And Bruce was way too interested in the hammer. Tony wanted to nip whatever ideas he had about Thor being able to ‘control’ his mean green counterpart in the bud, because that went bad places very quickly.

The table was quiet. It was like an image parody of the 1950’s nuclear pack, with Steve as their stern but dotting capital-A Alpha surrounded by a bevy of betas arranged in some arcane pecking order. Real life had never worked like that, but if it ever had, Steve would fill the role of Alpha pretty damn well. Tony’s A-levels were unusually high, but even he had to admit that there was something about Steve that functioned like gravity.

(Keep reading)

“I… really need some new clothes,” Bruce mourned out of nowhere. He’d been naked when he’d turned back into a pinkish-skinned human, and the first thing he’d done was look down at his filthy body and groan not again.

They’d appropriated clothing for him from a boutique that would need some serious glasswork soon. Tony had hacked the register system and charged the purchases to his credit card, adding a hefty ‘I’m sorry we basically looted your store’ tip to the total. Bruce did look more than a touch ridiculous in the bondage pants and Hello Kitty t-shirt, but he hadn’t been in much condition to complain about Tony’s choices at the time.

“I’ll buy you a whole department store, buddy,” Tony promised. “We’ll call it a sign on bonus.”

Bruce made a strange wounded-animal noise and put his forehead down on the table. Tony lifted his arm (who the hell was he kidding? He twitched his arm muscles and the suit lifted his arm) and patted him on the back. Bruce’s breath wuffed out with each pat to make him sound a bit like squeaky toy. Tony was tempted to see if Bruce would keep doing it, but he wasn’t sure that his arm would keep obliging. He’d been able to replace the reactor when they’d gone to fetch Loki, so he at least wasn’t going to run out of power, but the suit wasn’t designed to work with zero user input.

“This has been fun, but I’ve got to take Bruciebear home before he gets cranky,” Tony said, and he really hated that he was turning to Steve like he needed permission to leave the table.

“I’ll come with you,” Steve said. Just like that, Steve was coming home with him.

Tony wasn’t sure that Steve had actually meant to invite himself to Tony’s home – or, in this case, a spare home, because even he wasn’t crazy enough to go tuck into bed at Stark Tower. He probably meant that he would help Tony carry Bruce over the threshold if needed, or prowl around and make sure all the doors and windows were locked before curling up at the foot of Tony’s bed. Maybe not the last one.

It was entirely possible that Tony was starting to go hysterical.

“I shall return to my brother,” Thor announced. “He should not be left unattended for long.”

Steve looked at their two super spy assassins with his eyebrow hiked, clearly waiting for the kids’ plans for the evening. Natasha looked at Tony, her expression unreadable through the grime and oil streaking her face. Tony looked back at her, and said nothing. He wasn’t comfortable around her, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would be. She’d taken hormone therapy so she put out O pheromones while she’d infiltrated his life, because, as she’d explained later, they’d thought he would respond better to an omega. Without the artificial hormones, she was nearly neutral, just slightly A-ten. Despite her past betrayals, they had just saved the world together. It wasn’t like Tony was going to throw her out on the street.

Whatever she was looking for in his face, she either found it, or she didn’t. Tony would probably never know one way or another. She gave Steve a tired smile, put a hand on Clint’s arm, and said, “We have our own beds to get back to.”

Steve’s lips went tight. He obviously wanted them to come along. Whatever else had happened, they’d formed into a pack and Steve was very obviously not pleased with his pack separating. He continued to stare at the table unhappily. Tony could almost hear the complaints going on inside his head, “Evenings are pack time and you can go play with your friends tomorrow.”

Tony snorted out a laugh, but didn’t explain. He rolled his eyes. “Giving SHIELD the opportunity to lock you in a debriefing room after this shitshow is stupid. Come with us, and you can go running back to Fury tomorrow. You too, big tall and staticky. There’s nothing that can be done about His Highness Lord Crazyeyes until I come up with a better holding cell for him anyways.”

Thor considered the offer, but then shook his head. “I must decline my friend, though I do so with considerable reluctance. Loki must not be allowed to escape again. Even in defeat, he is a formidable foe.” Standing, he clapped Steve on the shoulder, and then reached his hand out for empty air. He smiled ruefully when he realized that his hammer wasn’t in reach, and nodded to the rest of them.

“Suit yourself,” Tony said, and then quirked an eyebrow at Natasha.

Natasha looked down at Clint. He was asleep with his head pillowed on his arm. What was visible of him was speckled in bruises, and Tony imagined that what wasn’t visible was a damn sight worse. She transferred her gaze back to Tony, and then nodded. Steve noticeably relaxed, and thanked the shellshocked store owners for the meal. Between Steve, Bruce, and Thor, they’d eaten just about every scrap of food in the store. Tony’s half eaten shawarma pita barely pinged in comparison to the truckloads their resident super-etceteras had put away. When Steve realized that Tony was not going to finish his food, he frowned, and grabbed it off the table, carrying it with him to the street.

The National Guard escorted them out of the battle zone in a Humvee – boy, weren’t Humvees fun? – and then stood by at attention as they hauled their weary carcasses out of the Humvee and into Tony’s custom panel van. He’d designed the thing so it could be used to transport the suit with him in it. He hadn’t exactly anticipated the reason behind that being ‘body incapable of supporting itself due to alien invasion,’ but life was full of surprises.

“This looks like a prison transport,” Bruce mumbled. He managed to sound worried, even though he was half asleep on Tony’s shoulder, and getting drool all over his pauldron.

“Considering that it used to be a prison transport, that makes sense,” Tony said.

“Oh. Okay.”

The ride to Tony’s Upper West Side apartment was quiet and bumpy and slow. There were no windows in the back of the van, though he could have turned on external camera feeds if he felt like putting in the effort. He judged they were somewhere near the park by the time it occurred to him that he should have just gotten them a helicopter. No one else seemed to be especially bothered. Clint had only been woken long enough for the transfers between seats, and was asleep with his head in Natasha’s lap. She had her eyes closed, though Tony couldn’t guess if she was actually unconscious. Steve sat slouched in the bench seat across from tony with his head back against the wall, jostling around with each bump and turn like a ragdoll. His eyes were open, though Tony couldn’t guess if he was actually conscious. What a weird group of people.

A medical team met them in the parking garage, and hustled Clint and Bruce into wheel chairs. Tony couldn’t make himself say it out loud with Steve and Natasha there, but he could have used a wheelchair. Everywhere his body touched the suit was in agony, and the harnessing was good, but it was still biting into him where it was supporting his weight. He could feel his legs twitching and shuddering under the armor plates and was just grateful that no one could tell as long as he kept it off his face.

Tony hadn’t been to the apartment for months. It had been home before he’d finished the tower penthouse, and he’d kept it to house guests. When it was empty, it occasionally served as convenient lodgings when he had an event and didn’t want to travel back to the tower. It was blessedly quiet and dim with all the shades drawn. Tony directed traffic absently, sending Natasha and Clint to the far bedroom, and Bruce to the office by the master with its daybed. He didn’t think Bruce would appreciate the idea of anyone prodding at him while he slept, so he sent the doctor back to check on Natasha.

Looking at Steve, Tony grunted. “There’s a king in the master,” he said reluctantly. “It’s big enough for two.” The last thing he needed was Steve there to see all his bruises, but the apartment only had the three rooms.

Steve was looking around the living room with his eyebrows rucked up. He started at the sound of Tony’s voice and looked at the front door, maybe considering heading back to his room at the SHIELD facility after all. His gaze transferred to the hallway where the doctor could be heard quietly talking with Natasha. He set a hand on the back of the couch.

“I’ll be fine out here,” he said. “Though I wouldn’t say no to a shower if you don’t mind.”

Tony hid his relief. “I would mind more if you thought you were going to plop your filthy self down on my nice white couch.” He made a flicking gesture to get Steve to follow him, though even that much movement made his shoulders burn.

Steve watched him as he moved around the master. It wasn’t really Tony’s room anymore. It had been styled and stocked as a very generous hotel room, prepared to house guests of all descriptions. The closet and dresser were filled with clothes of various sizes that guests could ‘borrow’ (though few of the articles were ever returned), and useful odds and ends were scattered on shelves. Tony pulled out the largest pair of sweatpants and t-shirt he could find with minimal effort, snagged an unopened package of boxers out of the top drawer and dumped them on the bathroom counter.

“Shampoo, soap… all the things. In there. Use whatever,” Tony said through a yawn.

“Do you need help?” Steve asked.

Tony blinked at him and rewound the last few minutes of their conversation. “…With?”

Steve made a blanket gesture to him. “You haven’t gotten out of your armor yet. Is there something special that needs to be done to get it off? I can help.”

Tony waved him away. If he’d been alone with Rhodey or Pepper, he would have gladly taken the help and just ignored their worried tutting over his bruises. Not Steve. Not Captain America. “Once this thing comes off, I probably have five minutes of juice left in the tank before I’m falling asleep wherever I happen to be. I’ll wait until I can grab a shower first. Maybe that way I’ll at least happen to be in bed.”

Steve hesitated, and Tony wondered what he suggestion he was thinking about making. Bathing Tony and carrying him to bed? The idea was half teenage wet dream, and half instant repulsion. He didn’t need a big strong alpha to dote on him. If he’d been ten years younger, he probably would have tumbled Steve into a dominance fight, Captain America or not, and if he’d been less tired and in less pain, he would have at least made a sarcastic crack. As things stood, he was too old, and too tired, and he didn’t even have morphine to rely on for pain management.

Tony made an impatient gesture to the bathroom and Steve apparently decided not to argue. He ducked his head and disappeared into the bathroom with a muttered promise to be quick. Tony dismissed the idea of telling him to take his time, because he really wanted to get to bed, and he really needed a shower first.

Steve was in and out in under five minutes, escaping the room in a cloud of peppermint scented steam.

Next

[marvelmom]

The Contest - Chapter 5

As you and the rest of The Avengers test your willpower in an unusual challenge, your attempts to remain Master of your Domain are complicated when James “Bucky” Barnes makes you his mission. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Chapter 5 continues with the slow, slow build, Lots of dirty talking, Smut to come, Fluff for now, Humour, Swearing, Flirting, Sweetness, Sexual tension, Teasing, Groping, Fingering, Language!, NSFW, Technology, Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 7,142 (I’m so sorry…putting myself on a time-out)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Masterlist

A/N: Thanks so much for your patience everyone! The holidays really threw my schedule into chaos and this one took a lot longer than I anticipated. This chapter was a challenge - I struggled with the length and whether or not I should divide it into two chapters. In the end, I decided to keep it together so as to not disrupt the flow.

Thanks to @evansrogerskitten​ for the beta - I  love you babe! To everyone sending me messages, feedback and requests to be tagged, THANK YOU! You are AWESOME! Tumblr is being a bitch with the tags so I’ve done these manually - I hope I haven’t missed anyone! Please send me a note if I’ve left you off by mistake or if you would like to be tagged.

And always, to my twitter babes: thanks for the support, love and smut ;)

Chapter 5: The Asset

In the nights that followed, you and Bucky could be found sprawled across his bed watching movies, huddled under the covers talking for hours or just wrapped around each other’s bodies in quiet comfort.

Falling asleep in Bucky’s protective arms each night, you felt safe for the first time in years. But while his presence kept the nightmares at bay, the vividly erotic dreams that appeared in their place were just as torturous. Especially when Bucky had made it a habit to hold you close to his body as you both slept. You never would have guessed that the Winter Soldier liked to cuddle.

Each morning you’d wake with your body pressed tight against his bare chest, his metal arm circling your waist and a strong thigh draped across your legs. This morning was no exception.

As soon as you begin to stir, you feel his warm lips start to lazily pepper your neck with kisses and his morning arousal rubbing up against your backside.

“Mmmm, good morning soldier,” you purr as you lightly stroke the cool metal of his arm while backing into his growing bulge. “Someone’s up early.”

“Your fault doll,” he murmurs sleepily into your ear. “All that moaning in your sleep last night got me going.”

“Was I fucking you hard in your dreams again?”

“Hmph,” you scoff as you make a mental note to never tell Natasha anything ever again. “How do you even know I was dreaming about you?”

“Well,” he smirks as he runs his stubbled cheek along your jaw and whispers lowly, “you screaming ‘oh God Bucky right there, touch me right there’ sort of gave it away.”

You shiver as his mouth slowly nips down your neck, his hand sliding over your stomach.

“Now that you’re awake I wanna find that spot,” he teases. “Slip my fingers into your wet pussy and watch you come undone.”

A moan escapes your lips as his metal fingers begin to rub slow circles over your clothed mound.

“Wanna make you scream my name while you cum all over my fingers.”

“Such a dirty boy,” you whimper, squirming as you intercept his hand before it can dip under the hem of your sleep shorts.

You feel him smile against your neck as he lays his hand over yours. He presses your fingers down hard and begins to maneuver them over your covered clit.

“Why don’t you join me in the shower and I’ll show you just how dirty I can get.”

You grip his hand to still his movements and guide it away from your sensitive spot. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Never,” he growls as his hand slowly travels up your body. You breathe in sharply as it grazes the underside of your breast. “You’re my mission.”

You swiftly roll over and turn to face him; giving him a warning look as you plant your hand on his chest to stop him from advancing.

“Sorry soldier, I’m not ready to comply just yet.”

Bucky laughs and reaches over to playfully smack your ass before rising from the bed. He stands up with his back to you and slides his shorts down his legs.

“Your loss sweetheart,” he smirks as he tosses them at your head and walks towards the bathroom with a confident strut.

As you pull the shorts away from your face and prepare to unleash a string of obscenities, your gaze lands on his firm, naked ass. Eyes widening, your words are swallowed by a low whimper.

Slamming your head back onto the bed, you grab Bucky’s pillow and cover your face to smother your loud scream of frustration.

The past few days had been sheer agony. It was one thing having to participate in the contest when you thought Bucky didn’t give a damn about you. But now knowing that your feelings for each other ran deep, made everything a lot more complicated.

It also didn’t help that you were both so stubbornly competitive and thought nothing of testing each other’s willpower on a constant basis – despite the fact that each new round of teasing drew you both closer to the brink of elimination. The sexual tension between the two of you was off the charts. What had started out as harmless flirting was threatening to ignite into intense passion with every word, look and touch.

Making matters worse was that the rest of the team had begun to notice the white hot sparks that flew between you and Bucky every time you were in the same room, and they began to use this to their advantage.

Suddenly, you found yourself paired with Bucky to review intel, carry out routine surveillance and even for kitchen duty. The two of you seemed to be ending up in the same place alone too often to be considered a coincidence.

Throw in the fact that the other two Avengers left in the contest had consolidated their matchmaking efforts and you knew it was time to tell Bucky that you both needed to cool it or risk being eliminated ahead of Steve and Nat.

As you get up from Bucky’s bed and begin to straighten the sheets, you take stock of the current situation. No surprise that you, Nat and Bucky were still holding strong – your common training and tactical experiences were firmly rooted in self-discipline. Steve however was the dark horse. You never thought he would have held out so long. Little beads of sweat begin to form on your brow as you move around the bed, mentally listing each of your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses.

“Why is it so hot in here,” you think to yourself as you bite your bottom lip in concern. The last thing you need is to get sick and have your defenses weakened, especially around Bucky. You had discovered quickly over the past few weeks that a clear head was required when dealing with the super soldier – he could instantly make you wet with just one bite of his lip or sweep of his tongue.

Damn, that tongue. You pause from your task to imagine how incredible that tongue would feel sliding between the folds of your pussy.

You’re so deep in thought that you don’t hear Bucky come up behind you. As he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder, you close your eyes and lean back to breathe in his scent.

“Bucky, you’re getting me all wet,” you squeal as cold water from his damp hair starts to drip down your neck and chest.

“Can I feel?” he teases. His hands dip into the top of your shorts and slowly start to pull them down.

“Don’t you dare sergeant!” you scold while you hold them in place.

He hums softly and drapes a towel over your shoulder. “Here, use this to dry off.”

You grab the towel and begin to pat down your neck as you turn to face him. “Thanks. Listen Bucky, we need to ta…”

Your sentence is cut short when he pulls you in tight to his body, your hands landing on his wet, muscular pecs. Mouth agape, you stare as drops of water trickle down his sculpted chest and roll over his abs before disappearing into the space where your hips meet.

It’s only when you feel his hardening cock twitch against your core through the thin fabric of your shorts, that you realize he’s completely naked.

“You were saying doll,” he smirks while you close your eyes tight and fumble out of his solid grip.

“Damn it Bucky,” you cry out while swatting him blindly with the towel. Backing up, your knees hit the bed and you suddenly fall seated onto the mattress. Your eyes fly open in surprise and for a split second your gaze lands on Bucky’s thick, long cock. You gulp harshly and quickly bring the towel up to cover your face as Bucky takes a few steps towards you.

Chuckling, he pries the towel from your trembling hands and wraps it low on his waist. Dipping his head, he brings his lips to your ear.

“I can tell by the way you’re blushing that you like what you see.”

“Just so you know sweetheart,” he murmurs softly, grinning as he watches you bite down hard on your bottom lip. “It can get much harder than that.”

The sound of his laughter rings in your ears as you bolt from the room with your fists clenched, cursing him loudly in Russian.

By the time you wash up and head downstairs to join the rest of the team in the common room, you’re still wound tight and unusually hot – patches of sweat staining your flimsy top and shorts. Tony, Steve and Bruce are huddled around a mid-air projection screen while Thor is seated on the couch watching their efforts.

“Why the fuck is it so hot in here?” you whine as you plop yourself down next to Thor.

“The compound’s climate control system has inexplicably gone offline,” mutters Bruce as he scans the code on the screen. “We’re running a diagnostic but we can’t seem to figure out what triggered this malfunction.”

Steve walks over to the bar and pours himself a glass of ice water before hopping up on a stool. “For some reason the heat has kicked in and we can’t seem to over-ride the controls to turn it off.”

“Something in the program is restricting our access.”

“Something or someone,” you grumble as you shoot Tony a suspicious look.

“Now what would I have to gain by sabotaging the temperature in this place,” Tony asks innocently while pretending to be wounded by the accusation. “Although I must say, hot and sweaty is a good look on you sugar.”

“Feel free to disregard the ‘no nudity during the contest’ rule for the time being,” he offers generously.

“Although something or someone tells me that you and Barnes may have already thrown in the towel on that one.”

“Kiss my ass Stark,” you growl in frustration as you try unsuccessfully to block the image of Bucky’s impressive cock from your head.

“Why so grumpy sweet pea,” Tony questions with a tone of mock concern in his voice. “I think someone needs a good…”

“ Fuuuuuck,” interrupts Bucky as he comes swaggering into the room wearing shorts and a tight, white tank top. “What’s with this heat?”

“If I keep sweating like this I’m going to have to take another shower.”

He sets his gaze on you and winks. You narrow your eyes and mouth “fuck off” before turning your attention to Thor who is thumbing through a cook book.

Bucky smiles widely and climbs up on the stool next to Steve’s. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen.

“Is this text from you?” Bucky asks while handing Steve his phone. Steve takes it and reads the message.

“No, not from me,” he answers, passing it back to Bucky. “I think that’s Sam’s number.”

“What about this one,” Bucky questions as he brings up another text.

“Geez Buck,” scolds Steve. “You really need to set up your contact list so you know who’s sending you these messages.”

“These things are such a waste of time,” Bucky grumbles as he waves his phone around in annoyance. “By the time I figure out all your numbers and how to use the damn thing, we get new ones. Hate these burner phones.”

Steve shakes his head and laughs. “Here, give me your phone,” he coaxes. Bucky hands it over and watches Steve swipe and tap the device.

“OK, I’ve set up my contact info to get you started…woah!”

Bucky looks up to see Steve’s eyes widen at the screen.

“Shit Steve, did you break my phone,” Bucky huffs as he takes the device back. He glances down at a text message Steve has inadvertently opened.

He furrows his brow as he read the words ‘Hi handsome’ under a photo of a woman’s tongue licking a set of plump, cherry red lips.

“What the hell,” Bucky mutters as he types back a response.

Who is this?

He shrugs his shoulders at Steve and hits send.

A few moments pass when his phone starts to chime.

You don’t remember me?

A sad face emoji pops up on the screen attached to another message.

Maybe this will jog your memory

A picture of a woman’s hand caressing the valley between two ample breasts spilling out of a black lace bra flashes onto the screen.

“Hello!” murmurs Steve as he cranes his neck to get a better view of Bucky’s phone.

Bucky’s mouth falls open for a split second before his eyes flit over to where you’re sitting with Thor. He watches as you sweep your hair off your shoulders and arrange it into a messy bun in an attempt to cool off. His blue eyes flicker with desire as he admires your body which is flush with a thin sheen of sweat that glistens on your skin.

Turning his attention back to his phone, Bucky ducks his head in guilt and quickly types out a message.

You have the wrong number

With a swipe of his finger, he deletes the conversation.

“What are you doing?” Steve questions in annoyance. “This may be one of those groupies Stark was talking about.”

“Just trying to stay alive pal,” Bucky answers nervously as he motions his head in your direction. “I’m not interested in any groupies.”

“Man, you are whipped,” Steve laughs.

Before Bucky can respond his phone lights up with a new message. He tentatively taps the screen and lets out a sharp breath as a picture of a cute, round ass appears, clad in a barely-there black lace thong. Peeking out of the waist band over the right cheek is a small tattoo of a red star.

Steve lets out a low whistle while Bucky swallows hard.

Pretty sure I’ve got your number babe. Don’t lie…I know you’re thinking about how much you want to spank my ass while I call you daddy

Bucky vehemently shakes his head from side to side while he taps on his phone.

Sorry, no. All I can think about right now is how sexy my girlfriend looks and how I want to bend her over that couch she’s sitting on

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise as Bucky hits send. “Whoa Buck, your girlfriend?”

“Well yeah,” Bucky smiles sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I haven’t asked her yet or anything but I want her to be my girl.”

“That’s great buddy,” Steve says approvingly as he places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and grins widely.

They both look down as Bucky’s phone chimes.

Girlfriend? Too bad, is it serious?

Bucky smiles softly as he types his response.

Yes, very

He looks up and notices you blushing as Thor whispers in your ear. Bucky closes his eyes and grits his teeth angrily, trying to steady his composure, when his phone lights up with another message.

Lucky girl. In case it doesn’t work out, I’ll be here waiting

Bucky quietly moans at a picture of a woman’s hand pulling down on a pair of black lace panties while the other hand fingers a garter belt. As his eyes run down the length of her legs to a pair of black high heels and back up to her covered mound, he struggles to keep his cock from twitching.

“FUCK!” exclaims Steve loudly as he grabs the phone from Bucky’s hand. You and Thor look over with puzzled expressions.

Bucky laughs nervously as he jabs Steve hard in the ribs.

“Cat video,” he stammers in explanation.

“That is one pretty pussy,” Steve mumbles under his breath.

You shake your head and turn to continue your conversation with Thor.

Bucky snatches the phone back from Steve and hastily types out a message.

You’ll be waiting around forever then. Do you like blonds? I have a friend

Steve gives Bucky two thumbs up and waits eagerly for a reply. He frowns at the response that appears a minute later on the screen.

Thanks but no…I prefer my men with long, dark hair…ridiculously handsome and aggravatingly cocky…with stubble…stubble is good

Bucky chuckles as he remembers a similar conversation from a few nights back. He’s about to bid his mystery admirer a final goodbye when he freezes.

“What’s wrong Buck,” questions Steve as Bucky squints at the screen and enlarges the photo to get a closer look. He begins to scroll back and forth through the pictures, examining them carefully, until the realization begins to dawn on his face.

“You little tease,” he growls lowly as his head snaps up and his eyes bear down on you. Sensing his stare, you look up in time to see him jump off the stool, his mouth formed into a tight, menacing grin. A mix of fear and excitement overwhelms your senses as you realize you’ve been discovered.

Bucky slowly stalks over to you, the metal plates on his arm whirling with each step. You quickly jump up from the couch while Thor looks on in amusement. Giggling uncontrollably, you run full throttle down the hall to the elevator.

“Shit shit shit shit shit, come on, come on,” you chant frantically as you press the up button, trying to will the elevator doors to open. You let out a sigh of relief when they finally part and you slip in. You jab repeatedly at the button to close the doors and then lean against the wall to catch your breath.

But just as the doors are about to close tight, a metal hand reaches in and pries them open. Your eyes widen as Bucky steps into the elevator car and the doors slide shut behind him.

He smirks as he steps in close and places his hands on either side of your head, effectively pinning you to the wall. “Where do you think you’re going baby girl?”

You swallow nervously as his darkening eyes hungrily scour your body. His metal fingers trail down your jaw line before wrapping around your throat to squeeze it firmly but gently. Your breath leaves your body in a rush.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he murmurs as his other hand grips your waist and turns you so you’re facing the wall.

“Are you going to punish me daddy?” you taunt him breathlessly as his hands pull down on your shorts.

“Is that what my kitten wants,” he teases as his metallic fingers trace over your tattoo. You gasp as his flesh hand comes down on your bare ass with a loud smack.

You let out a raspy moan and start to back into his hand when you feel the elevator jolt to a stop.

“What the fuck,” snarls Bucky as he turns toward the panel and starts to push the buttons.

You’re both startled by the sound of Tony’s voice wafting into the elevator car.

“Hey kids, sorry to interrupt but there’s a small problem with the elevator,” he explains. “We’re working on it.”

“Wow, that’s one sweet ass…tattoo…sweet ass tattoo.”

Bucky quickly backs up to shield your backside from the camera as you pull up your shorts.

“How long before you fix the elevator Stark,” Bucky growls into the intercom.

“Oh, maybe an hour or so,” answers Tony nonchalantly. “Feel free to continue where you left off, you won’t even know I’m here.”

Before Tony can finish his sentence, Bucky delivers a crippling punch to the camera.

“That’s coming out of your paycheck Barnes,” mutters Stark in annoyance.

“Add this to my bill too,” Bucky replies as he rips the intercom speaker from the panel.

You shake your head in disapproval and begin to survey the car for options. Your eyes land on the emergency exit hatch at the top of the elevator. As you examine the hatch, you bring the hem of your top up to wipe some sweat off your face – flashing Bucky in the process.

“Stop fooling around Bucky and come give me a boost please. No way are we staying in this hot tin can for an hour.”

Eyes fixed on the ceiling you steady yourself as Bucky comes up behind you and places his hands on your hips. But instead of lifting you up, he maneuvers you along with his body towards the wall until his back is pressed up against it.

“You’re not going anywhere princess, not done with you yet.”

Holding you tight to his chest, his hands slip under your top and start to move up towards your breasts.

“So fucking sexy,” he whispers into your ear, his breath hot against your body. You lean your head back against his shoulder as his lips ghost over your neck.

“Bucky,” you whimper as his hands gently squeeze your breasts, his thumbs circling your hardening nipples through your bra. “We can’t…we can’t do this.”

“I know doll,” he stammers as he grinds his growing erection into your ass. “I just need to touch you…want you so fucking bad.”

“I want you too babe,” you murmur as you tilt your head to the side to give him more access. You feel your knees buckle at the heat pooling between your legs as he presses his lips to your neck. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.”

“Just need to wait a little longer, we’re almost there.”

Bucky sighs loudly and buries his head into the crook of your neck. “You’re making this is so hard.”

You chuckle softly and tuck your hand behind you to stroke his half-hard cock.

“I don’t know about that soldier,” you answer cheekily while glancing coyly at him over your shoulder. “I’m told it can get a lot harder than this.”

Bucky groans and starts to slide down the wall, guiding your body with his until you’re set between his legs.

“I don’t know how much longer I can resist you,” he mutters as he fumbles in his pocket for his phone. He brings up the picture of your backside on the screen and holds it up in front of you as evidence. “Especially if you keep teasing me like this.”

“Hey you started it soldier,” you huff indignantly while playfully slapping his thigh. “You and your little strip show this morning.”

Bucky laughs and starts to fiddle with the settings on his phone.

“Bucky, what are you doing?”

He ignores your question and continues to tap at his phone. Your eyes widen when you catch a glimpse of the screen.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” you warn tersely. “You can’t make my ass your background picture.”

“Too late,” he murmurs as he traces over the curve of your onscreen backside with his finger.

You reach out to grab his phone but he scrabbles to his feet and raises it high above your head. You jump up a few times trying to snatch the device from his hand but he raises it higher with every leap. He tilts his head and grins appreciatively at your futile efforts.

“Damn baby,” he purrs, biting down hard on his bottom lip. “I love watching your tits bounce.”

Narrowing your eyes in annoyance, you line up determinedly to kick the phone from his hand but he anticipates your move and jams the device down the front of his shorts.

You raise your eyebrows and flash a cheeky smile. “Really Bucky, like that’s going to stop me.”

He throws his arms out in invitation as you take a step closer. Your hands are just starting to slide down past the waist band of his shorts when the phone slips out and lands on the floor. You quickly drop down to your knees in front of Bucky to grab it, one hand still tucked inside his shorts, when the doors of the elevator open.

You freeze as Tony and Steve come into view.

“Going down?” Tony smirks as he crosses his arms and leans up against the wall.

You make a face at him as you scramble to your feet and bolt from the elevator clutching Bucky’s phone. Tony leans over to get a better view of your backside as you run down the hall. Bucky starts after you, pausing first to punch Tony hard in the shoulder.

“Stop fucking staring at my girlfriend’s ass,” he threatens in a menacing voice before taking off in hot pursuit.

“I’m sorry, did he just say girlfriend?” Tony asks as he turns to Steve with an incredulous look on his face.

“Yup,” chuckles Steve as they watch Bucky quickly catch up to you. They listen to you curse loudly when Bucky grabs your waist and effortlessly flings you over his shoulder.

Tony stares hard as Bucky’s metal hand moves under your shorts to squeeze your ass before he kicks open the door to the stairwell. Tony mutters in disbelief under his breath.

“That lucky son of a bitch.”

As evening rolls around, you find the team back in the common room, surrounded by portable fans and ice cold beers.

You grab a bottle and sit yourself down in front of the cool stream of one of the fans – as far away from Bucky as you can get.

You had spent most of the afternoon in your bed propped up against Bucky’s chest, sweating in between his legs while he watched you create his contact list – punishment for teasing him with those texts. It would have probably taken you less time had it not been for the distraction of Bucky’s lips on your neck and shoulders, and his hands roaming over your body. Between the heat and his touch, it was enough to drive you mad.

As you take a sip of your beer, you silently agree that some distance from Bucky is in order tonight. You fall back on the couch and close your eyes to enjoy the rush of cold air rolling over your body when Steve calls out.

“Hey gorgeous, come play with me and Bucky.”

Your eyes fly open and glance over in confusion. It takes a few moments to realize that they are setting up for a game of scrabble.

You smile wryly and curse your overheated imagination. “Thanks, but I’m not in the mood tonight Steve.”

“You boys will just have to play with yourselves.”

Steve shakes his head and smiles while Bucky’s eyes flash in amusement as they land on yours.

“What’s the matter sweetheart,” Bucky taunts while he twists the cap from his beer bottle. “Afraid you’re going to lose your shirt to me?”

He brings the bottle to his full lips and takes a long drink. You throat goes dry as his eyes drift over your body.

“Ummm no,” you answer with a roll of your eyes. “It’s just that most men can’t handle it when I whip their ass.”

Bucky raises his eyebrow and leans back in his chair, legs splayed apart.

“I’m not most men darling,” he replies smugly. “You can play rough with me.”

“Fucking hell” you scream silently in your head as your gaze lowers to his crotch. “Don’t let him suck you in…ugh, don’t say suck…and don’t you dare get up from this couch…stay in your Bucky-free zone.”

You’re about to shut him down when you hear Bucky chuckle. Your eyes snap up to catch him giving you his best shit-eating grin. Bastard. You can’t resist.

“Well then,” you smirk. “How can I deny myself the pleasure of bringing the Winter Soldier down to his knees?”

Bucky inhales sharply as you part your legs slightly and raise an eyebrow in challenge.

“Sorry doll,” he says in a husky tone as he coyly looks down at this lap and then back up at your lips. “You’re the one going down tonight.”

“Please Barnes,” you scoff playfully while you rest your beer bottle in between your legs and start to slowly run your fingers over it. “You know it will be me coming on top.”

“I have words you’ve never even heard before ready to roll off my tongue.”

Bucky’s eyes roam up from your lap to your mouth as he licks his lips slowly.

“Mmmm, let’s see what that smart mouth of yours can do sweetheart,” he dares with a sexy grin.

Rising from the couch you head over to the game table where Steve and Bucky are sitting. You come up behind Bucky and place your hands on his broad shoulders.

“I think you’ll find soldier that I have some pretty impressive oral skills,” you purr as your hands move over his chest and abs, gliding down to palm the bulge in his tight jeans. He moans your name softly at your touch.

“Come on you two, play nice,” Steve sighs as he readies the board.

“We’ll behave,” Bucky promises as he stands to pull out your chair. As you move to take your seat, he leans in and whispers. “Unless you want daddy to punish you again baby girl.”

A shiver runs down your spine as he slaps your ass and nips at your shoulder.

“OK, just a few rules,” begins Steve in a firm tone.

“No names allowed or making words already on the board plural. No suffixes, prefixes or abbreviations. No slang words, made up words or acronyms like LOL or OMG.”

“Plus you’ll score 5 extra points if you use your word in a sentence,” he continues as he starts to shake the bag filled with letter tiles.

“And for gosh sakes, watch your language,” jokes Bucky. “Captain America gets a little flustered with the dirty talk.”

“It happens one time,” Steve replies in exasperation as he holds out the bag to you.

“Wow Stevie,” you tease as you draw your letters. “I would have killed you if we had ever made it into bed.”

“You guys are hilarious,” he mumbles as you and Bucky share a knowing look. “Are you finished or is there a second act to this comedy show?”

Bucky pats Steve’s shoulder in apology and you blow him a kiss. Steve jokingly mutters “jerks” under his breath and starts the game.

“Ok, my first word is ‘sit’,” says Steve as he places his tiles on the board.

“We should sit in front of the fans to stay cool.”

“Your turn Buck,” instructs Steve as he jots down his points.

When Bucky doesn’t answer, you look up from reviewing your tiles and notice his glazed eyes focused on your breasts. It only takes a moment to realize that while you’ve been absentmindedly rolling your cold beer bottle over your neck to cool down, Bucky has been watching your nipples harden with each pass.

He’s deep in his thoughts when Steve calls out to him again.

“Bucky?”

Looking slightly disoriented, his eyes shoot up to Steve for a moment, before dropping down to study his tiles. His frown is quickly replaced with a mischievous smile that spreads slowly across his face.

He spells the word ‘get’ on the board before turning to you with a lustful grin.

“I can’t wait to get my mouth on your gorgeous tits.”

You let out an amused gasp while Steve chokes on a mouthful of beer.

“Bucky,” Steve sighs as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What?” answers Bucky defensively as he points to your breasts. “Just fucking look at them…they’re awesome.”

“Yes…yes they are,” agrees Steve. “But…”

“But nothing,” interrupts Bucky with a wave of his hand. “My word counts, I used it in a sentence and her tits are spectacular…gimme my points.”

While Steve exhales in exasperation, you cock your eyebrow at Bucky and place the word ‘good’ next to his. You look up at him with a devious smile playing on your lips.

“If you’re a good boy Barnes, I might let you fuck them sometime.”

Bucky growls lowly while Steve’s eyes widen, a pale pink blush creeping up his neck. You arch your back and push your chest out for full effect as both men continue to stare.

“Stevie?” you call out innocently, as your fingers glide up and down over a spot in between your breasts. “I think it’s your turn.”

“My turn?” Steve responds hoarsely, trying to clear his throat. “Oh right, the game.”

You notice his fingers tremble slightly as he arranges his tiles on the board.

“Radio,” he mutters while avoiding eye contact with you. “I like listening to the ballgame on the radio.

You turn to Bucky and watch as his eyes dart from the board to his tiles and then back again. He grins widely and begins to spell out his word.

“Sweet,” he says, his tongue running over his lips as he locks his eyes on yours.

“All I can think about doll is how sweet your pussy is going to taste on my lips.”

You hum softly at the thought and slowly reveal your next word.

“Dirty,” you purr seductively.

“Jesus,” mumbles Steve as he shifts nervously in his seat waiting for your sentence.

“I want to feel that dirty tongue of yours licking my clit.”

Hands dropping to his knees, Steve exhales slowly and bows his head to stare at the floor; the blush on his face becoming a deeper shade of pink.

Bucky eyes flutter closed for a moment before he scrambles to respond.

“Were,” he murmurs as he grins wickedly. “I wish you were cumming all over my mouth.”

Steve snaps his head up in confusion and motions with his hands for Bucky to stop.

“Hold on Buck, I think it’s my turn.”

Steve’s protests are drown out by the sound of your heart beating loud and fast in your chest as you press your tile firmly on the board and fix your eyes on Bucky.

“Wrap” you smirk as you bring your beer bottle up to your mouth. “I want to wrap my lips around your thick, hard cock.”

You wink at him as you slowly lick the rim before taking the bottle into your mouth and downing the liquid in one shot.

“Bad” Bucky groans in response, his excited eyes riveted to yours. “I want you so fucking bad right now.”

You smile teasingly as you place the word ‘ride’ on the board. Bucky bites down hard on his lip.

“I want to ride your cock hard until you shoot your load deep into my pussy.”

Bucky tilts his head and gives you one of his sexy, crooked smiles. He stares straight into your eyes and murmurs “pussy.”

“Wanna stretch that tight little pussy with my big cock.”

You squirm in your seat as the wetness begins to soak through your panties.

“Wet,” you whimper as you position your word. “Thinking about you fucking me is making me dripping wet.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Steve discreetly drop his hands under the table.

Bucky grins wickedly as he lays his letters on the board.

“Hard” he growls. “I’m going to fuck you so hard that you can’t walk tomorrow.”

Oblivious to Steve and the rest of the team that have now turned their attentions from the movie they were watching to your game, you and Bucky continue to throw down tiles and the dirty talk.

“I hate you guys,” mutters Steve as he pushes away from the table and gets up from his seat. Tony, Bruce and Thor snicker quietly as they watch him walk stiffly to the elevator.

“Mmmm Soldier,” you tease as you spell out ‘rough’. “All I can think about is you fucking me fast and rough from behind while you spank my ass.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as his tiles form the word ‘prayer’.

“I’m going to have you screaming my name like a prayer while you cum all over my cock sweetheart.”

You inhale sharply at his words and place your remaining tiles on the board.

“I’m going to be your dirty little slut tonight Bucky.”

Bucky’s darkening eyes bear down on yours with such intensity that you feel like your skin in on fire. The heat between your bodies is electric – firing showers of sparks that threaten to ignite the desire bubbling so close to the surface. You both sit motionless; fighting a silent, internal battle as your willpower threatens to collapse.

Bucky opens his mouth to speak when Natasha walks in and quickly scans the room with a quizzical look.

“Which one of you gave Captain America the raging boner?” she smirks. Fingers quickly point to you and Bucky.

With confused looks, you both turn towards Steve’s seat, not realizing that he had left the room. Bucky turns to Nat with a large grin.

“That would be miss porn star mouth over here.”

You throw a handful of tiles at his chest and huff loudly. “Hey you were talking up a filth storm too Barnes.”

“Nicely done,” praises Natasha as she grabs a beer and sits down next to Bruce. “I passed Rogers on his way to his room about 15 minutes ago and he looked ready to blow his load.”

Bucky chuckles and picks up his phone.

“Well then, this should speed things up,” he murmurs as he taps at the screen.

He’s about to place it back down on the table when the sounds of phones chiming around the room make him freeze in place. His eyes dart to his phone and widen in horror.

As you reach out for your phone to see the incoming message, Bucky quickly snatches it away.

“Bucky, give me back my phone,” you scold. “It sounds like we are getting a mission update.”

Bucky ignores your outstretched hand and jumps to his feet.

“I’ll…I’ll read it to you,” he offers nervously, his face flush with fear.

“Yes Barnes why don’t you give us all an update on this mission,” snickers Tony as he taps his phone in mid-air to bring up the picture of your ass on the projection screen.

“Are you planning to penetrate their defenses starting at the back door?”

Your mouth drops open in shock and you turn to look at Bucky with your eyes blazing.

“Bucky…” you slowly growl as you rise to your feet and grip the table. “Did you send that picture to the entire team?”

“Well not exactly,” Bucky confesses, bracing himself for your reaction. “I sent it to the entire team plus everyone on my contact list.”

Watching the anger rise in your expression, Bucky backs away slowly, his hands held up in defense.

“I’m sorry babe, it was an accident.”

“What the fuck Bucky?!” you scream in disbelief as you start to chase him around the table.

“Sam says hi,” he replies matter-of-factly over his shoulder before slowing down to change directions to avoid your grasp as you move to the right and deke left.

You both begin to slowly circle the table when F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Captain Steve Rogers has achieved climax at 10:18 pm.”

You clasp your hand over your mouth to stifle a gasp of disbelief while the rest of the team bursts into laughter.

As Bucky turns to high five you, he’s greeted by a flurry of hands slapping at his arm.

“Whoa babe, relax,” he coaxes gently while he wraps his arms around yours to pin them to your sides.

“Let me go soldier,” you demand, struggling to break free from his steely grip. “So I can shove that phone up your ass.”

‘Mmmm, my kinky little girl,” he murmurs as he pulls you in closer to his body. “You’re going to be a handful in bed tonight aren’t you?”

His hands move down into your shorts, squeezing and kneading your ass as he spreads your cheeks.

“So what do I get to put in yours,” he smirks as his metal finger presses against your tight hole.

Bucky chuckles in amusement as you struggle to swallow a moan rising from your throat.

“Dream on Bucky,” you scoff shakily as you try to regain your composure. “You’re not getting anywhere near my ass tonight.”

“Awww come on sweetheart, don’t be like that,” he pouts as he caresses your backside. ”Need to give this sweet booty a little treat tonight.”

“Had I known it had the power to defeat Captain America, I would have called in this asset a long time ago.”

You groan loudly at his bad joke and roll your eyes. Looking at you innocently through his lashes, Bucky leans in and cocks his head; attempting to soothe your anger with a playful smile.

“Ugh, that’s not going work this time Barnes,” you grumble as your hands move up to his chest to push him away.

Bucky lets out a deep breath while you turn your back to him to avoid his persuasive eyes. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back tight against his chest. His chin on your shoulder, he starts to sway your body from side to side.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” he pleads softly, his lips pressing against the pink flush of your cheek.

You lean your head back on his chest and sigh. “There’s nothing you can do Bucky.”

“How am I going to look Steve in the eye tomorrow?”

Bucky dips his head to make eye contact and raises his eyebrows.

“Doll, I don’t think your eyes are what he’s going to be looking at when he sees you again. And I don’t blame him.”

You laugh softly and shake your head as he gives your ass a soft squeeze - silently cursing yourself for giving into his charm.

Brow furrowed, Bucky gazes at the scrabble board, deep in thought. After a few moments, you feel his back suddenly straighten as an idea takes shape in his head.

“I think I know how I can make this up to you babe,” his says coyly as he guides you to the game table.

You look down in confusion as Bucky reaches over you to the tiles scattered on the table and begins to arrange them on the board.

A smirk begins to form on your lips as you watch the words take shape. You respond to Bucky’s hopeful, apologetic gaze with a nod of approval.

Smiling, he takes your hand and leads you towards the elevator.

A half hour later, still gathered in the common room, Tony, Bruce, Nat and Thor hear their phones start chiming simultaneously. Tony creases his brow and transmits the incoming message from your phone onto a projection screen. A collective groan rises up from the men as Bucky’s naked ass comes into view.

“That’s it,” snaps Tony. “I’m confiscating their phones in the morning.”

A small smile tugging at the edges of her mouth, Natasha cocks an eyebrow and mutters appreciatively under her breath.

“That lucky bitch.”

Tags:  @evansrogerskitten @ek823 @pearljamkaren @thewife101cevans @avenger-nerd-mom @virtualgirlfriendsan @mistressjenbradlee @slickblitz @amf71010 @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world @quotemeow @imperfect-scribbles @mckorni32843 @me-myself-and-the-emu @ofmiceandnatasha @carabarnes13 @juliagolia87 @5-seconds-of-sebastian-stan @cassiopeia-evanstan @okaybxrnes @dontgetscared-justgetout @sammedrano @winteraconitum @creideamhgradochas @buckymorelikefuckmebarnes @bovaria @andreaisa7 @4theluvofall @jrubalcaba @hating-life-rn @chisatowa @supersoldier-wifey @avengingnights @colt-eleven-impala-sixtyseven @kaiyaisbae @confidentrose @thatpunkrockfandomchick @deathbyukmen @hip5t3r-m3rmaaidd-biitchhh @burningprincessbird @sgt-jbb-107 @ayeputita @almondbuttercup @fvckingavengers @earinafae @saffreelove @cojootromuelle @lenavonschweetz @badassbaker @ditchesandbitches @marvel-lucy @daddys-lil-monster-17 @octopishisahybridanimal @feelmyroarrrr @dontyouforgetaboutme @chameerah @marvelmaximoff @thexbasketcase @queendade @magnetosgirl

p.s. I actually plotted the words on a scrabble board to make sure the game was legit…yes, I’m aware that I need help lol