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talesofesther · 3 years ago

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Memorable days

Yelena Belova x Reader

Summary: On Yelena's first real Christmas, you decide to give her a very special —and fluffy— gift.

Requested by anons: Hey! I love Seaside! Can I request an Avengers au where Yelena is with the team and during Christmas, Reader is the last one to give a gift and she gives Yelena a puppy?

and

Hello, love! Can you do a Yelena x reader where Reader surprises Yelena with a puppy and that's how she gets Fanny?

A/N: I combined these two requests, and I hope you guys like it <3. I feel like maybe I could have written this better, I've been having a bit of trouble with creativity lately, but I hope it's still good.

Masterlist

"No no, a little more to the left." You instructed Steve, tilting your head slightly to the side as you inspected the tree.

Steve moved the huge Christmas tree with ease, pushing it to the left, in the middle of the Compound's living room. It was December 1st, and you had made it your mission to give the Avengers base the Christmas spirit that it deserved.

Tony had happily lent you his credit card and you didn't spare expenses. Buying everything, from the tree that stood up taller than you, to the many blinking lights and decorations. Even if it was late at night already, you couldn't wait one more day to start decorating the place.

You only needed help in placing the tree. "I think now it's perfect." You exclaimed excitedly, smiling at the tree that for now stood bare in the living room.

Steve chuckled, with his hands on his waist as he looked through all the decorations you had sprawled out on top of the couch. "Are you sure you don't want to do this tomorrow?"

"No, I'm fine doing it on my own, the tree at least. You guys can help with the lights outside and the other decorations." You bit your lip to contain a huge smile, wanting to already wake up to the sight of the Christmas tree in all its glory.

"Okay, have fun kid." With a pat on your shoulder, Steve made his way to his room.

Looking through all the decorations, you picked up the lights first, deciding that it would be easier to put up the other ornaments on the tree once the lights were already placed. You carefully rounded them along the whole tree, being extra gentle when moving the branches. When you were done, you turned off the main light in the living room, only leaving the one in the kitchen for you to see your steps. Once you plugged the Christmas lights in, their colorful glow lit up the whole living room, painting it in all kinds of colors.

You smiled, already feeling engulfed by the warmth that came with this time of year. Walking back to the tree, you were too busy making final adjustments to the lights to notice a pair of eyes on you.

Yelena was on her way to the kitchen to grab a cup of water when she passed through the living room. Her steps came to a halt as soon as she saw the colorful lights, they stood out beautifully in the otherwise dark room. A sharp breath escaped her, the only Christmas tree that Yelena ever saw was a fake one.

This one, however, was real. And by the content smile on your face, it was being made with love.

Yelena brought her arms around herself, feeling the cold wind of the night hit her bare legs as her heart rate increased. In a way, she felt like she was intruding, being a part of something that wasn't meant to be hers, as much as she may want it to be.

You caught sight of her just as she was about to leave. "Yelena, hi. I'm sorry I didn't see you there." Your smile was bright, the sight of Yelena in a long sleeve pajama shirt and shorts made a faint blush come to your cheeks. Her skin and eyes were shining with the soft, colorful glow of the lights you were just messing with, she was beautiful.

Yelena gave you a tight smile. "I was just getting water."

"I'm setting up the tree, I know it's late but I wanted to have it ready by morning." You smiled sheepishly, fidgeting with the small Santa ornament in your hands. "You are welcome to join me if you want."

Yelena tugged gently at the fabric of her shirt, unsure if she should accept your offer or not. She could remember the fake Christmas scenario of her childhood, the empty gifts, the memory hurt more than she would care to admit.

She took slow steps towards you, watching carefully as the lights danced on top of her skin. She avoided your eyes as she walked. Stopping right beside you, she reached out a hand to touch a small snowman ornament that was already on the tree.

You watched her every move, simultaneously feeling your heart swell with affection. Yelena would never know how loving and gentle she was in your eyes.

Yelena was so focused on the tree and the lights, that she felt instant goosebumps on her skin when you touched her other hand, tenderly running your fingers along her palm and bringing her hand up. Her eyes moved to yours slowly, she gulped the lump in her throat when she saw your adoring smile.

She could see the reflection of the Christmas lights in your eyes, shining brighter than ever. You placed the small Santa on her hand and closed her fingers around it. Sometimes, Yelena wondered if you could read her mind, feel her emotions.

Pulling her hand away, Yelena neatly placed the Santa on the tree. Her lips tilted up in a bright, genuine smile, you had just given her a first real Christmas.

That night, Yelena realized she had fallen in love with you.

____

The 25th came faster than ever, and the Avengers Compound was more colorful than ever before. Christmas lights, Santas, and little snowmen were everywhere. There was a Christmas wreath on everyone's door, and an extra big one at the main entrance door. The Christmas tree stood out, glowing and filled with decorations and presents beneath it.

Tony had made sure everyone on the team wore a Christmas sweater, at least for the day. Some of them complained, but in the end, even Natasha put a sweater on.

And, everyone was happy. You could feel your chest filling up with warmth and love for your found family. The whole team took the day off to enjoy Christmas together, you had made hot chocolate for everyone to drink while the presents were exchanged.

The Compound was filled with laughter and lighthearted banter for the whole evening, as you were all gathered in the living room.

You made sure to buy a gift for everyone on the team, and when all the other presents were given you got up to grab your last one. Arguably, the most important. However, everyone was loudly talking amongst themselves, as a random Christmas movie played in the background. Tony stood in the middle of the living room, telling a story about his Christmas from two years ago that had your teammates breaking down in laughter. It was chaotic. You loved it, but for your gift to a certain blonde, it was too chaotic.

Your eyes moved to Yelena, who was sitting on the couch with her knees up to her chest and a small smile on her lips. The snow that could be seen falling behind her on the window and the soft glow of the fireplace on her skin gave her an ethereal look. She was enchanting to you. Her red and green sweater fitted her perfectly, her long hair was down and looked incredibly soft. Her eyes were gentle, and even though she still sometimes isolated herself from the others, you were happy to see her slowly opening up.

Biting your lip, you sat back down. Deciding it was best to give Yelena's gift in private. You knew this was her first Christmas so you wanted it to be special. Besides, your choice of gift required a calmer environment.

Yelena glanced at you when you made yourself comfortable beside her, it didn't go unnoticed to her that she was the only one who didn't receive a gift from you. It stung her heart, but she chatted with you like she hadn't even noticed you forgot her.

____

The sun had already set when Yelena heard a quiet knock on her door. She had been sulking in her bed since the festivities ended.

She sat up, running a hand through her hair before saying. "It's open."

You opened the door and peered in, a shy smile forming on your lips at the sight of a rather disheveled Yelena sitting cross-legged on her bed. "Hi Lena, can I come in?"

Yelena nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion when you entered her room with a big box in your hands. You struggled to close her door as said box seemed to move, almost falling from your grasp, only furthering the blonde's confusion. Eventually, you managed, and came to sit beside her on the bed.

You looked up at her, your features still timid. It was endearing, the expectant look she was giving you, the way her hair fell just slightly over her eyes and onto her shoulders. You had to stop your hands from reaching out to her.

"What you got in there?" Yelena raised an eyebrow at you.

You chuckled, fidgeting with your hands. "So um- I wasn't able to give you your gift earlier, because it was a bit too chaotic, and I wanted it to be perfect." Your last words came out quieter, your eyes avoiding hers and glancing down at the bedsheets.

Yelena felt her mouth go dry in anticipation. She looked at the box now laid on her bed and back at you, opening her mouth yet being unable to form words. A distant, bruised part of her soul was half expecting the box to be empty.

You gently pushed said box towards Yelena, stifling a laugh when you felt the little surprise moving inside it.

With shaky hands Yelena reached out for the box, shooting a last glance at you for confirmation that this was really for her. She unwrapped the red ribbon with ease, opening the box slowly, feeling her body tense.

Before Yelena could fully open the box, she heard a quiet whine, and then a small white and caramel dog stuck her head out of the box. The cute animal looked around curiously, her little nose smelling Yelena's hand.

All the while your eyes didn't leave her, you didn't even blink. Holding your breath as you waited for her reaction to the gift you had been planning for weeks now.

And Yelena didn't have a reaction at first, she only stared at the dog that was now gently licking the tip of her fingers. Her soft fur and pointy, darker ears resembled a wolf in some ways.

Only after a moment of quietness that you noticed Yelena's lower lip trembling, and the way that her bottom eyelids slowly filled with water. You reached out a comforting hand, touching her shoulder and trailing your hand up to the side of her head to put stray strands of hair behind her ear. "Merry Christmas Yelena." You kept your tone gentle so as to not disrupt the moment.

The first tear escaped Yelena's eye when your words snapped her out of her trance, and you fought the urge to pull her into an embrace. "You got me a dog?" Her words were barely above a whisper.

You smiled and glanced down at the puppy. "I happened to overhear you talking to Natasha one day, about how much you wanted a dog. So I talked to her, and Tony, and we decided it was okay to have a mascot." You chuckled, gently running your fingers through Yelena's hair when you noticed her trembled breaths.

Yelena quickly wiped her eyes, feeling a distant shiver run up her spine at your touch, now with a huge smile coming to her face. She picked up the small dog and brought it to her lap, her eyes were filled with wonder as she scratched behind the puppy's ear.

"I don't even know what to say." Yelena had never sounded so happy to you.

Moving to sit closer to her, you started petting to dog as well, laughing lowly when she nibbled at your fingers. "You don't have to say anything, it's enough to me to see you this happy." The words came out of your mouth before you could fully think them through.

You glanced up when you felt a pair of eyes on you. You felt your body freeze momentarily with the intensity of Yelena's gaze, you could lose yourself in her eyes any day.

None of you noticed the way you were moving closer to each other until your noses were almost touching. Yelena closed her eyes for a brief second, when she opened them again, one of her hands came up to cup your cheek. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Her words were a breath against your lips. You couldn't hold yourself back from closing the gap between you, pressing your lips to hers in a tender kiss. Her lips were soft, moving with yours in tandem until you pulled back.

You breathed out heavily, only half aware of the puppy making her way to your lap and chewing on your sweater. Your nose bumped into Yelena's, she didn't move away and neither did you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"

Yelena cut you off by kissing you again, more eagerly this time. Bringing both her hands to your cheeks and holding you against her almost desperately.

She only pulled away when a tiny bark sounded from your lap. You felt her smile against your lips, and the little peck she gave to the side of your mouth just about made your heart melt with love.

Looking at Yelena right now, her lips redder and cheeks flushed, messy hair with a small smirk on her lips; you knew this would be one of your favorite memories.

"So, what should we name her?"

—⧗—

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

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sambvcks · 4 years ago

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redefined, b.b. x reader

summary: just because those ten words no longer wreak havoc on his mind does not mean they are gone. just redefined.

warnings: mentions of food, blood, gunshot wound

word count: 3.7k....whoops

author’s note: first standalone! i’m also itching to work on a sam story next. the last episode still lives in my mind rent free and this is a reworking of that which diverges from civil war and we get one big happy avenging family that aren’t dead :)

[ read on ao3 | masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

Longing

An Avenger.

The concept was still so foreign to Bucky, despite dozens of successful missions under his belt and a permanent residence in the tower. Still, every morning he sprung up in bed expecting to still be in some run-down apartment halfway across the world, on the run.

Instead, he would awake on a plush mattress that offered little back support. He would shuck on the first shirt his bleary eyes could see and pad into the hallway, the smell of fresh coffee overtaking his superhuman sense of smell. You would be perched at the kitchen counter, pouring over mission files stained with coffee rings that Tony would later complain about.

Steve and Sam would have already come through on their way to their morning run, the coffee pot running dangerously low. You’d already placed his favorite mug nearby, two packets of sugar emptied into the bottom. A routine.

Bucky didn’t think he’d ever have a routine again.

His hand would press against your shoulder in a familiar greeting as he passed, you’d grin up at him with sleepy eyes and a lazy smile before returning to your work. Your cereal sat forgotten beside you, the overly sweetened kid’s choice growing soggy.

It was a silent and comfortable interaction. Neither worked to fill the quiet or felt the need to. Even with Steve, there was always talking and planning and ‘what about this’. With you, it was so natural to just exist how he was in that moment. No excuses, no whispered apologies.

He pushed his back against the sink as he sipped at his coffee, eyes immediately settling on your distracted figure. Your pajamas were wrinkled, mouth formed into a perfect concentrated from as you hunched uncomfortably, hand scribbling furiously. He swallowed and decided you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, especially with your coffee breath and fingernails chewed to nubs.

He wanted so desperately to move across the kitchen and press himself perfectly against you, to push aside your paperwork and demand your sole attention. His hand clenched into a fist as he longed to feel your soft, round cheeks in his hands, how warm you would feel against the cool metal of his left and how you’d nuzzle closer still.

He hadn’t heard the dragging footsteps of Steve and Sam returning from their run and didn’t even notice them until they were settled at the doorway, watching him watch you.

“Morning.” Steve grinned, all knowing. Bucky cleared his throat and refocused on his mug.

“Morning.” Bucky replied with a look that said ‘don’t say anything’.

Rusted

Bucky learned that if you weren’t cooped up in your room or camped out on the kitchen island, you were tucked away in Tony’s garage. On slow days where it seemed everyone was off in their own little world, Bucky would know to find you under the hood of one of Tony’s vintage cars, each kept in pristine condition, but you claimed that ‘there’s always something to work on’.

Bucky was never a car guy. His family was too poor to even think of ever owning his own car. He didn’t even have his own license and technically couldn’t legally ride his bike either. He found out quickly that being an Avenger meant the term legal could be bent a bit. So, he wasn’t a car guy. But the sight of you with streaks of grease across your face and your raggedy workshop clothes would have him buying one just to see you work on it.

You were notoriously protective of your little hideaway, the music loud and the sound of metal ringing as you fixed and fiddled with every little thing. Steve nearly got a wrench to the face when he tried to distract you from Tony’s antique Chevy.

Bucky was different, though. He was always different.

He would sit himself on a tall stool positioned next to one of Tony’s many rolling tool chests. You’d call out a tool and he’d rifle through the collection until he found what he thought was the right one and only slightly tease him when he’d emerge with the wrong one. Typically, you’d spend these afternoons in silence, the thumping of the heavy base of whatever crazy metal album you picked the only soundtrack to your work.

Sometimes, though, you’d play gentle rock music. Bucky would ask questions on what you were doing, how you learned to do all of this, why you did it when Tony worked on these cars enough for the both of you.

You’d fish your rag from your pocket, concentrating on scrubbing the grease from under your fingernails as you answered.

“I like using my hands. I like fixing things. For every car that Tony has in this garage, there are hundreds just like it sitting in junkyards gathering cobwebs and rust.” You looked up at him from under eyelashes and Bucky knew you were speaking about much more than just hunks of metal. “They’re worthy of love and care.”

You were talking about him, too.

Seventeen

Bucky didn’t think this superhero business would have so many parties. There seemed to be a celebration for everything. Galas, fundraisers, full on parades whenever Tony happened to wake up in a good mood.

At least this one is a holiday, he thought to himself as he nursed his third beer of the hour. Not that it did anything other than keep his hands occupied.

The year was coming to a close, and the top floor of the Avengers Tower was decked in golden confetti and banners to ensure no one forgot. The music was obnoxiously loud, and the lyrics made little sense, but everyone seemed to be having a good time mingling and even venturing to the dance floor.

No matter how many times Sam tried to drag him in with an invisible rope, Bucky was not going to dance. Well. Maybe he would if you asked.

The party had been in full swing for hours now, with only ten minutes until the ball a few blocks up finally dropped and he could sneak away to his room without a teasing ‘bedtime already, old timer?’ from Nat.

Still, the party raged on and he eyed the glass door to the balcony. He downed the last of his beer, brushing past enthusiastic partygoers with his shoulders hunched forward in some attempt to minimize the space he took up in the room that only seemed to be getting smaller. He caught Steve’s eye on the way out and plastered on a smile in response to his disappointed look.

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as soon as the glass door slid closed behind him. His eyes closed as he leaned back against it, the chill of the December New York air blew his hair in every direction.

“Fancy meeting you here.” You were sat in the far corner, so well hidden he hadn’t even noticed you, though he had been on the lookout for you all night. “Tired of the festivities?”

“And Tony’s music.” He grumbled as he fell into the seat beside you.

“Been waiting for you for the past thirty minutes. Honestly, you made it a lot longer than I could’ve in there.”

You were waiting for him. You wanted him to be there, with you, tucked away from everyone else’s prying eyes. He wanted that, too. Sometimes he wanted it so much it scared him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, doll. It’s not polite for a gentleman to make a girl wait.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll find it in myself to forgive you.” Your shoulder pressed against his, eyes focused on the smattering of buildings surrounding you. Identical parties were happening in each of them, you were sure. “Can you believe another year is gone?”

“I can’t believe I’m about to make it to 2017 and my back hasn’t given out yet.”

You laughed, loud and unabashedly in a way only Bucky could make you laugh. Head thrown back and eyes glittering from the city lights, Bucky wanted to spend every new year you would allow him to by your side, trying his best to make you laugh again.

“Well,” You stood to peer over the glass railing, Bucky close behind you. You could hear the drunken cries inside as the countdown begun. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” Bucky offered his hand to you. You took it easily.

5, 4, 3…

He wanted nothing more than to pull you close, to finally press a kiss on the lips that had thrown teasing remarks at him during missions. To once and for all end this little dance you both loved so much. But you looked so perfect.

Bucky wasn’t ready to ruin that perfection with everything wrong with him quite yet.

“Happy 2017, Bucky.” You whispered as the fireworks started, but Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes from you.

“Happy 2017, doll.”

Daybreak

The mission had been long and grueling. The week-long stakeout turned into two and quickly turned into a month away. You can’t remember the last time you’d had a good night of sleep that wasn’t interrupted with Bucky’s hand on your shoulder, telling you it was your turn to keep watch.

It wasn’t a horrible mission, more of an exercise in patience and restraint than anything. Bucky’s stories kept you entertained enough, and he was a good partner. Which is why you were paired together more often than not.

Still, it was nice to finally collapse into your familiar bed, not even bothering to kick of shoes or take a much-needed shower. Your sleeping schedule was all out of whack and you tossed and turned, despite the exhaustion seeping through your bones.

After fifteen minutes, you finally huffed a sigh of defeat and stumbled back to your feet. You showered, which was a few good days overdue, and dressed in your largest, most comfortable pajamas.

You weren’t surprised to see Bucky up as well, sitting at the dining table with a mug of fresh coffee.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His foot kicked out the seat beside him as an invitation.

“Sleeps overrated, anyways.” You shrugged, slumping into the seat and pressing your face into the cool glass of the table.

“Sleep is good for you.” He insisted, reaching forward to brush aside the hair that had curtained over your face. “You deserve a good night’s rest.”

“So do you, Buck.”

He stayed silent for a while, just sipping at his coffee and stealing glances at you, face trained out the floor to ceiling windows. He really didn’t know what he deserved, anymore. Sure, he had made some semblance of peace with what the Winter Soldier had done with his body. He was better, that was certain.

Worthy of you and all your unwavering sweetness? He wasn’t so sure.

You idly chatted about nothing for hours, filling comfortable silence with talks of the mission and the food poisoning he had given you when he tried to make dinner two weeks in. You sat side by side until day broke the next morning, eyes squinting at the sun peeking over skyscrapers and finally finding the need to fall shut in rest.

“I guess I should say ‘good morning’ instead of ‘good night’.” You were the first to stand, shuffling towards the hallway that led to your bedroom.

“Good morning.” He answered as you padded away, deciding he would be just fine losing sleep every night if it meant he could watch the sunrise by your side.

Furnace

“Doesn’t Tony make enough money to keep this place at least habitable?” You grumbled as you fell into the couch beside Bucky.

“I’m fine.”

Bucky sat in his patent jeans and t-shirt, unphased by the temperature that practically had your teeth chattering. You were bundled in multiple layers, including one of the many sweatshirts he’d wear jogging on cold mornings and blankets you had stolen off his bed. Your glare from under your cocoon of warmth rivaled even his.

“I’m not a muscle-y super soldier-”

“You think I’m muscle-y?”

“-that runs so hot you’re basically a personal furnace.”

“Oh, so now I’m hot.”

“I would strangle you to death right now, but I’m about to lose my fingers to hypothermia.” You burrowed further into your smattering of blankets with a violent chill running down your spine. Bucky simply rolled his eyes and marked the spot in the book he had been reading before you stormed in.

“C’mere.”

He balled up a fistful of one of your blankets, tugging you even closer to him. You opened your arms to allow for direct contact, sighing contently as your face pressed into his shoulder and legs tangled with his. You sighed contently as you welcomed his warmth, shimmying as close as you could get.

“Better?”

“The best.”

Nine

“Do you ever think what your life would be like? If you’d gotten to go home?”

Even a year ago, this question would have turned Bucky into a brooding mess. He would have delved into every little moment he had missed, every plan that had been turned upside down when he fell from that train all those years ago. But he was better now, more contemplative. He wouldn’t drown in the idea of what could have been because he knows what it’s like to be on the other side.

“I like to think I would’ve gone to college.”

“Really?”

“You calling me dumb, doll?”

“No! You’re the smartest person I know. I’m just picturing you at college. Carrying textbooks and wooing all the dames.” You fell into him at the thought, a fake swoon overtaking your face.

“I’d be too busy studying for dames.”

“Studying what?”

“I always liked math. Maybe engineering or something. Wanted to be a teacher before the draft.” He shrugged like the information was no big deal, but to you it was everything.

“Professor Barnes. Kind of sexy.”

“Oh, shut up.” But his words held no malice. Instead, he was grinning that cheeky grin that pulled his cheeks into perfect rosy apples and his eyes crinkled in joy. “I wanted to have ten kids.”

“Ten?!”

“So we’d be a dozen. My own little army of mini-Buckys to take over the world. Couple sets of twins, maybe. Definitely as many girls as I could manage.”

Of course Bucky would be a girl-dad. Playing dress-up for fake tea parties and scaring off boys when they’d come ‘round for first dates. You could imagine how he’d learn how to take care of their hair and plait intricate braids when they asked. He would make breakfast for the whole bunch, kiss his wife goodbye before escorting them to the bus stop and taking off for a day of teaching classes. Bucky would be an amazing father.

An amazing husband, too.

“I think ten may be pushing it, Barnes.”

Bucky pictured it, too. A little more modern than maybe the image you conjured up. Teaching was replaced with small missions. The gaggle of kids were smaller, and he wouldn’t have to kiss his wife goodbye. You’d be in the car next to him, headed to the tower for your morning briefings together.

“I’ll settle for nine.”

Benign

If you were to ask any New Yorker what they think the Avengers do on Friday afternoons, they would probably say something like ‘kicking ass!’. None would get even close to what your actual routine looked like.

None would imagine The Winter Soldier lounging in a bathrobe, hair knotted into a bun at the top of his head as his fellow world-saving Avenger spread some green goop over his face. Chinese takeout boxes littered the living room coffee table, his feet were bubbling in warm foot spa.

“To keep your youthful complexion!” You had promised him. He didn’t comment on the obvious sound of your phone’s camera clicking.

He knew he must have looked completely ridiculous. But as you sunk into the couch next to him with identical spa treatments covering you, he couldn’t find it in himself to really care.

He never thought in a million years that he would have the chance of boring, completely benign afternoons. He thought he would be sidelined to violent missions for the rest of his life, to being thawed out like a microwave meal every time he was deemed useful. Sure, he felt a bit ridiculous when you reached over to adjust the slices of cucumber placed over his eyelids, but he also felt so relaxed.

As you settled even closer to him, head tilting to rest on his shoulder, he would happily take the teasing remarks from Sam when you showed him the pictures.

Homecoming

Peter wasn’t crazy about the idea of getting ready for his senior year homecoming dance at the tower. But Aunt May was upstate on vacation with Happy and he still didn’t know how to tie a tie.

“Oh, you look so handsome, Peter!” You gushed as your fingers worked on his tie. Bucky stood to the side, holding MJ’s corsage in a delicate plastic container. Peter had been careful to find the perfect color, with a little guidance from you. The white dahlias matched perfectly with Peter’s light green tie.

“Thanks, Ms. (Y/L/N).”

Peter, ever the polite kid.

“Be safe, kid. Have her home at a reasonable time and no wandering hands.” Bucky handed over the corsage with a supportive slap to Peter’s shoulder. He was quick to promise that he would follow all the rules before making a dash to the door, just as you were about to ask for pictures.

“Don’t wait up!” He called as the elevator dinged behind him.

“They grow up so fast.” You sniffled. “I didn’t even go to my homecoming dances.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody ever asked me.” You shrugged, collecting the other ties Peter had picked from and hanging them carefully over your arm. Tony didn’t have to know that Peter was taking one of his priceless Versace neckties to a homecoming dance.

“To be fair, I would’ve been scared shitless to ask you to a dance.” Bucky followed close behind. “And I fought a war.”

“That’s sweet, Buck.” You brushed him off as you retreated into Tony’s closet.

“No, really.” His hand caught your elbow. “I would’ve been the luckiest guy in town if I had you on my arm.”

You fell asleep that night imagining you and Bucky twirling around a dance hall without a care in the world.

One

Steve’s hand was firm against your shoulder, his tactical glove soaked and dripping with your blood. Your eyes were unfocused, head lulling every so often when the fight to keep it steady just seemed too difficult. Sam was at your other side, cracking jokes to try to keep your attention on him and not of the literal bullet lodged in your shoulder.

You were escorted from the jet in a flurry, doctor’s hands replacing Steve’s. You barely winced when you were administered painkillers and the ache begun to subside. Before you could blink, you were lifted onto a gurney in the medical bay and the clink of the bullet that had been dug from your flesh rang through the room as it clattered into a metal dish.

Bucky ran in just as the doctor finished maneuvering a long roll of gaze around your shoulder, scheduling a time for you to return to have it cleaned and reapplied again.

“What happened?” He brushed past the doctor without a second glance, eyes trained on your figure pressed against the sterile hospital bed. “Steve said-”

“It’s nothing. Steve likes to be dramatic.”

“-that you were shot!”

“Oh, well. Yeah, that happened.” You moved to sit up, your arm immediately giving out under the weight. Bucky moved even closer to help you, hand careful on your back like you were made of glass. “But just the one time.”

“As far as I’m concerned, one is too many.” He watched the gauze turn darker against your skin; your eyes screwed shut in pain as your knuckles turned white against the sheets. “And you’re never going on a mission without me again.”

Freight Car

“You’re free.”

He remembers those worlds so clearly, it’s like him and Ayo are still sat next to that crackling fire in Wakanda. He thought that had been it. He would never again worry about those ten phrases that erased Bucky Barnes and allowed a machine to emerge from his memory.

As he stole glances of you from the corner of his eye, shadowed by his unruly hair, he knew those words still very much existed in his mind.

They weren’t a means to an end, anymore. He didn’t have to grit his teeth and clench his fists to fight them off. They were new, now. He saw each of those words in you and realized just how important they are now they they’ve found a new meaning.

His love for you came easy.

One second, he was looking at his friend. She was looking back at him and he felt safe.

Your fingers brushed over his shoulder, where flesh turned to metal, and you looked away as though you hadn’t just made him fall in love with you with a single touch.

It took three years for Bucky to make a move. Another party, another escape plan to the balcony where you were waiting for him, like always. The last time you had found yourselves in that position, he had been too unsure. Too wary of what it would mean and if it was too soon.

Now, he didn’t care. He just wanted you and to be selfish and not think about consequences when he leaned forward and finally pressed his lips to yours.

You pulled back, but not far.

Something clicked.

Your love for him hit you like a freight car. Swooping in from nowhere but really, you should have felt the rattling of the tracks beneath your feet. You should have seen all the signs that you loved him and he loved you back. In stolen glances and easy afternoons, in hard missions and bloodshed. He was there, and he looked at you like that. Like everything his body had done was to finally make it to you in this moment.

He waited, patient. He had waited this long, what was another few seconds as the realization washed over your features?

“Oh.” Was your clever whisper.

“Yeah.” Bucky’s hands cradled your face, “Took you long enough.”

taglist: @bibliophilewednesday @teti-menchon0604 @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @spid3rgwen @beautyandthebleh @victoriabaker112213 @orthellqs @phasma-trash

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes/reader #marvel imagine #tfatws imagine #sab writes

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babyjamiebarnes · 4 years ago

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Build-A-Bear

Part Three

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Morgan, various characters in other chapters

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos and implications

Chapter Summary: Reader has dinner with her family and gets grilled even harder than her food. But she’s turned to a light simmer when Bucky takes her out for their first date.

Author’s Note: This chapter is fucking monstrous lol. I did not expect it to be this long so it might be a couple extra days before the next chapter so I can catch up! I’m also not sure if my Italian is accurate so I apologize in advance. I used to work for a man named Gennaro from Naples and he called me “bella” so hopefully I’m sort of right? If you like the story so far, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Part One • Part Two

Tags: @kennedywxlsh

Dinner that night was tense, to say the least. It was nice to have your dad, step-mom, sister, and uncles Happy and Rhodey over again, but your dad wasn’t quick to forget what he saw earlier.

“What was that with Barnes today?” Tony asked as you all sat around the dining room table in your midtown flat, poking away at the remnants of your meals.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

Your dad just gave you an incredulous look. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed and avoided meeting his eyes. “I was just working on his arm, dad. I didn’t wanna make him lie down on a hard lab table while I poked around to do what you wanted and quiet his arm,” you explained.

“Wait, Barnes as in Bucky Barnes?” Uncle Rhodey clarified.

“Yeah,” your dad confirmed, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found her kneeling between his legs while he sat shirtless on the couch.”

“You’re sleeping with Bucky?!” Rhodey asked.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone!” you defended, dropping your fork onto your plate. “I’ve known him for a month.”

“That’s never stopped your father,” Pepper mumbled under her breath, making you huff out a laugh despite your current grilling.

“Listen, when I said ‘no fraternizing with coworkers,’ I meant it,” your dad said.

“Please stop saying ‘fraternizing.’ It’s weird.”

Tony sighed and crossed his arms. “No ‘slumber parties’ with coworkers,” he rephrased.

This made Morgan perk up in her seat, having spent the past couple minutes confusedly watching you and your dad bicker.

“Can we have a slumber party, [Y/N]?” she asked.

“Yes, honey, we can have a slumber party,” you responded.

“Tonight?” she continued.

At this, you pointedly looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows as a way of saying ‘are we done now?’ You could tell he didn’t want to end the conversation, but you were grateful for the sudden change of topic. Tony uncrossed his arms and leaned against the table as he replied to your sister.

“If your big sister says it’s okay, you can have a slumber party tonight.”

Morgan lit up like the Fourth of July, quickly listing off all the movies she wanted to watch even though you knew she’d fall asleep halfway through the first movie.

As your family packed up to leave, leaving Morgan since she had a drawer of clothes for the impromptu sleepovers you’ve had before, you calmed your racing heart before saying the words that would either make your father more suspicious or completely quash his suspicions.

“You’ll have to pick her up by four tomorrow. I have a date.”

All of the adults turned to face you. Pepper had a huge smile on her face, clearly excited for you, but your dad and Rhodey looked ready to fight. Happy looked curious, maybe even worried, but he played a big role in raising you so while Tony was the overprotective parent, Happy was the comforting parent (not that he’d ever let anyone know that).

“A date?” The tone of your dad’s voice made you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m a grown woman. I’m allowed to go on dates.”

Your dad let out a quiet harumph at that, but understood where you were coming from. “I know, sweetheart. Forgive me for being a bit overprotective of my little girl.”

“I get it. I appreciate your concern,” you said with a smile, “but this is good for me. You want grandkids eventually, right?”

“Oh god,” your dad groaned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m not old enough to be a grandpa but I’m old enough to have a heart attack at the mention of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“So what’s this person’s name?” Pepper piped up. You visibly tensed and internally panicked. You couldn’t just admit it was Bucky after denying anything there. But his name was technically pretty common...

“His name is James.”

Rhodey snapped his fingers and pointed at you as he said, “I like him already.”

‘Yeah, sure you do,’ you thought. The sight of your dad narrowing his eyes at you and crossing his arms as he stood in the entryway of your apartment made you nervous. Maybe James wasn’t good enough to get him off your trail (probably because he was right).

“How did you meet this guy?” Tony asked.

If anyone else had asked, you would’ve said ‘work,’ but that’s the last place you could say to your dad — with whom you worked.

“Uhh, at the grocery store. We accidentally followed each other and got a lot of the same food so he jokingly accused me of stalking him and we just hit it off,” you rattled off. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how your friend Monique met her girlfriend or he’d know you were lying.

“That’s so cute,” Pepper cooed. She was definitely the more relaxed of your parents, possibly because she wasn’t your biological mom. She had been raising you since you were ten though, so she played a big part in your upbringing.

“Text me his last name so I can run a background check,” your dad said. You’d love to think he was joking, but you knew he was serious.

And as much as you knew you’d regret it, you had to make a joke…

“His last name is Barnes,” you said, keeping your face as serious as possible. “James Barnes. I actually know his middle name too: Buchanan.”

“[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], you better be joking right now,” Tony said. He was already getting red in the face, clearly unenthused at the prospect of you dating the man who, admittedly, killed his parents — your grandparents. Yeah, understandable.

“I’m obviously kidding,” you said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just funny that they have the same first name and you’re so anti-Bucky.”

“You’re gonna send me to an early grave,” he muttered. “I’m going home before I actually have a heart attack.”

You said your goodbyes and ‘I love you’s before you and Morgan put on your pajamas and set up a pillow fort in the middle of your living room to watch her favorite sleepover movie: “Shrek.”

As the movie went on, you leaned back in the fort to take a photo of Morgan with the movie in the background. Well, the back of Morgan’s head as she was engrossed in the movie she’d seen a million times.

[Image attached] She’s got her teddy bear but where’s my Bucky Bear? 🥺

Across the city, Bucky’s phone buzzed from its spot on the kitchen counter as he made himself a late dinner. He didn’t recognize the number, but smiled when he saw the picture of who he assumed was your sister or niece.

I never got an invite. Looks like more fun than my night.

You smiled to yourself when you saw his reply, rolling your eyes at the lack of exclamation points and emojis. Typical man.

What does your night look like?

Eating a late dinner and talking to you.

Talking to me isn’t fun?! I’m hurt 😢

Not as fun as actually being with you.

Even though he wasn’t there and didn’t say it verbally, you could feel your cheeks get hot at his words.

There’s no way sweet talk like that didn’t get you in more than four beds.

You’re still on that? I swear doll, I have the same number as you.

Whatever you say! 🙄

There was a lull in conversation after that, giving you time to move your sister to lie on her back with pillows and blankets in the fort so she could sleep more comfortably.

Are we still going out tomorrow?

You let the next Shrek movie start automatically, but you didn’t pay any attention as you texted Bucky.

I’m still down if you are 👀

You sent him your address and let him know you’d wait on the front steps for him so he didn’t have to come all the way up. With the exchange of ‘good night’ messages, you drifted asleep to the sounds of Shrek 2.

•

The next morning, you somehow managed to wake up before your sister, then brought her back to the land of the living with the smell of French toast.

You spent your day watching another movie with Morgan before fixing lunch and taking her to a park down the road. Morgan’s childhood was definitely different from yours. Happy was the one who took you to parks and shopping, but Tony parented at home. Morgan would have the same early experiences, but the world knew Tony and Pepper had a daughter. They kept her identity hidden for now, waiting until she could decide if she wanted to reveal herself later in life. The world never knew about you.

And you had to be somewhat grateful for that. You still got all the perks of being a Stark — the money, the Tower, meeting the Avengers (and having James Rhodes as your godfather) — without the stress of fame. But part of you still wished you could talk about your father without keeping his occupation vague and referring to him as “Anthony” when telling stories instead of Tony.

Morgan also got to know her mom. You only spent the first seven years of your life with your mom before she was killed in a drive-by shooting. The police investigated it like crazy because everyone thought since it was Tony Stark’s wife, it had to be a targeted hit. But since she never took the same jogging route twice, all they came up with was an unplanned drive-by. You cherished the memories you had with her, but still openly welcomed Pepper when she came into the picture. She may not have played the same type of role in your life, but she helped shape your middle and high school years.

By the time you and Morgan got back to your place, she was exhausted, climbing back into the still-intact blanket fort to take a nap. When your dad and Pepper stopped by to pick her up, she was still knocked out.

“We’ll get out of your hair so you can get ready for your date,” your dad said with Morgan in his arms. “Send me this James guy’s last name. I still want to run a background check.”

“Dad,” you grumbled. “I already did my research. He’s clear.” Kind of. He technically has murdered hundreds of people, including your grandparents, but he’s reformed and fighting for the good guys now. Not that your dad would let it slide if you told him that.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “Let me know if you need to hide any bodies, okay?”

“You got it,” you said with a laugh as they headed out. You had two hours to get ready for Bucky, giving you plenty of time to look extra cute.

By the time six rolled around, you were all dolled up and ready to go. The autumn weather had you in a jacket and boots, but that just pulled your outfit together.

Your doorman Matt was standing inside the lobby when you ran downstairs, tossing him a small wave as you left.

“Have a good night, Miss [Y/L/N],” he said with a nod.

“See you later, Matt!”

You stood at the bottom of your building’s front steps, checking your phone and looking up and down the block for Bucky. It was six on the dot, so you figured he’d be there soon.

“Hey!” You looked up from your phone to see Bucky jogging toward you, a black leather jacket covering his arms and a black glove hiding his left hand. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from Sam. Had to tell him I was gonna check out my old stomping grounds in Brooklyn.”

“You’re, like, 30 seconds late. I’m just glad you’re here,” you said with a smile. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Bucky’s smile faltered as he looked down at you. Your boots gave you a bit of a height bump, but Bucky still stood taller than you.

“I, uh, I kinda thought you had something planned,” he said softly.

“Oh, oops,” you laughed. “Well… what about those Brooklyn stomping grounds of yours? Care to show me around?”

Bucky lit up at the recommendation and started leading the way to the nearest subway stop. Before you started down the stairs, he paused and turned to you with a sour expression.

“I probably should’ve asked if you’d rather get a cab,” he said.

“Bucky, I take the subway to work every day. It’s fine.”

“Why do you take the train? You don’t live too far away.” You two made your way down the steps to the bustling station.

“It’s just easier. Less work for me,” you explained. “I didn’t take the train much as a kid so I like taking the opportunity now that I can.”

“Most people don’t willingly take the subway,” he laughed. “Steve and I always used to talk about how we’d be rich enough to have a car someday. But now that I could get any car I wanted, I don’t think I want one. I like the subway.”

“Even though it’s smelly and dirty?” you joked.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “It’s one of the things that still reminds me of home.”

The gentleness in his voice nearly brought you to tears. This man had been through so much and was still the sweetest soul you’d ever met. Forced into a war he didn’t want to join, experimented on, tortured and brainwashed, hunted by every government in the world, captured, frozen, and forced into another war and more battles he shouldn’t have to join. He just couldn’t catch a break.

“Well I’m excited to see what else reminds you of home,” you replied.

The trains to and through Brooklyn were relatively busy so you and Bucky couldn’t really talk much, but it was a Saturday night so you couldn’t blame people for getting out. It was tough to find seats, but Bucky was willing to stand to make sure you could have a seat. Ever the gentleman.

When you made it to Bucky’s Brooklyn stop of choice, he started telling you more stories from the ‘40s, like when Steve couldn’t get off the train in time and accidentally went down another stop so Bucky ran to the next stop and found Steve heading his way anyway. And how he and Steve followed his sister Rebecca on a date “to watch out for her,” he said, and her date thought they were stalking her and tried to beat them up. And all the fights he pulled Steve out of.

“Punk was a chihuahua who thought he was a Rottweiler.”

For a while, you two walked around the streets of Brooklyn just telling each other stories. You were careful about names you used, often just calling Happy “Uncle Harry” and Rhodey “Uncle James.”

Bucky showed you the movie theater he and Steve used to go to, which was surprisingly still in business. You walked past what used to be a diner Bucky frequented but was converted into a bridal shop.

“This used to be a magic store Steve loved,” he said, looking up at the bank on the corner of the street. “Things have changed a lot.”

You heard the nostalgia in his voice, clearly missing the New York he grew up to love. He had a soft smile on his lips as he reminisced, though.

“What about where you lived?” you asked. “Do you remember where that is?”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “I could never forget that.”

Everything was within a fifteen minute walk of where you got off the subway so even though your feet were getting tired, you followed alongside Bucky as he led the way up and down the streets. Before too long, you strode up to a large brick building that had clearly been remodeled recently, if the fresh windows and front doors were any indication.

“It’s… a lot nicer than when I lived here,” Bucky said with a sigh. “But it’s been nearly 100 years so I can’t blame them for updating things.”

“Brooklyn is kind of booming now, too,” you added. “More people to appeal to, ya know?”

You stared up at him again, seeing that same lost look as before, like he wished to turn back time and show you the Brooklyn he knew. So you decided since he couldn’t do that, you’d show him the Brooklyn you knew.

“Come here. My turn to show you around,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He gave you a small smile before grabbing your hand in his and letting you pull him back to the subway.

Ten minutes later, you hopped off the train with Bucky in tow and headed to the little Italian restaurant you found while exploring the city a couple years before. It wasn’t anything elaborate; it was honestly more of a little hole-in-the-wall, but you liked the quiet atmosphere.

“Bella!” the owner shouted as you walked in.

“Hey Genny,” you smiled at him.

“Who’s this?” he asked as he approached you, raising his eyebrows when he saw Bucky.

“This is James,” you said. You opted against using his more common nickname to avoid any recognition.

“James, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Gennaro, but you can call me Genny. Welcome to my restaurant.” The two men shook hands before Genny ushered you two to a table and handed you menus. “Would you like to start with focaccia?”

“Yes please!”

“Con formaggi?”

“Si! Grazie!”

Gennaro left you and Bucky while he started your appetizer.

“You speak Italian?” Bucky asked.

“Definitely not,” you laughed. “I’ve just been coming here for a while and have picked up on some things Genny says. Like ‘bella’ means ‘beautiful,’ this pizza,” you pointed to your favorite pizza on the menu, “‘cinque formaggi’ means ‘five cheese.’ But I could never hold a conversation.”

“Un peccato,” Bucky sighed before flashing a smile at you.

“You speak Italian?!” you nearly shrieked. “No way! Don’t talk shit with Gennaro behind my back.” You pouted at Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t say anything bad about you. Maybe an embarrassing moment or two — like your dad walking in on you between his knees — but nothing negative.

“I picked it up pretty quickly back in the day,” Bucky explained. “Before I was sent to Germany, I was stationed in a small town in Italy for a while. The locals didn’t mind having us there because we kept the Nazis out, so they taught us some Italian when we were in town.”

“Maybe I should take Gennaro up on his offer to learn Italian,” you mused.

“Or you could learn from me,” Bucky was quick to offer. “I’ll teach you some stuff when you’re working on my arm.”

Your server arrived with the focaccia and water for both of you, before giving you more time to actually look at the menus instead of talking. You decided to split a bottle of red wine and two pizzas, one of your choice and one of Bucky’s. As the night went on, you and Bucky both opened up to each other even more than before. You could easily blame the buzz from a couple glasses of wine, but Bucky’s super soldier serum made you confused. His cheeks were flushed and he had more than half the bottle, so you wondered if maybe...

“Can you still get drunk?”

“Unlike Steve, yes. It takes more than this,” he said, lifting the nearly empty bottle of wine, “but since Steve and I received different serums, they work a little differently. I can definitely get drunk. Marijuana admittedly hits harder.”

You paused as you stared back at him, his elbows perched on the table and his clasped hands propped under his chin.

“Are you drunk now?”

“No,” he laughed quietly. “A little tipsy, sure, but not drunk by a long shot.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, reluctantly accepting that he was just as buzzed as you but not quite drunk.

Before long, your server brought over your tab and you realized how empty the restaurant had gotten. Then you noticed the broom and mop the server had brought out to the floor, then the dark ‘open’ sign, and finally the clock on the wall.

“You closed 20 minutes ago and didn’t kick us out?” you shouted at Gennaro. “Genny, you can always kick me out! I feel bad!”

Gennaro walked over to your table as you scrambled for your wallet and handed the server your card to run.

“I can’t kick you out, bella. You and your moroso are welcome any time.”

“I think this poor girl would beg to differ,” you said as the server handed your card and signature slip back. She just laughed at your comment, agreeing without saying it outright.

You left a hefty tip and hugged Genny before you and Bucky, both still a bit tipsy, shuffled outside.

“Thanks for buying dinner,” Bucky said. “This means I get to pay next time, though.”

He said it so casually and you already planned on another date, but it still kind of caught you off guard.

“Next time?” You smiled up at him and took a step closer until you were almost toe-to-toe. “There’s gonna be a ‘next time’?”

“I sure hope there is,” he said quietly, his smirk sending a rush up your spine.

“If you insist,” you sighed. He knew better than to believe you weren’t excited for your future plans. “I’m cold. Care to get an Uber with me?”

He gently grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, pulling the loose opening of his jacket over your arms and wrapping his arms around you to help keep you warm.

“Well, yeah. I need to make sure you get home safe so ‘next time’ can happen,” Bucky said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“You know, I don’t usually let men spoon me on the first date,” you joked as you tapped away to order an Uber.

“I can stop, if you want,” he teased.

You gripped his arm as he started to pull away. “I never said that.”

Bucky rode back to your place with you, keeping conversation casual as you both avoided the controversy you were about to face: to kiss on the first date or not. You never really had any issues with it before, but you already really liked Bucky. You didn’t want to risk messing it up by moving too fast. But what grown man would think a kiss on a first date was too fast? Well… maybe one born in the early 1900s…

Before your thoughts could throw you into a downward spiral, the driver pulled up outside your apartment complex. Bucky stepped out first and held the door open for you to scoot out after him. As you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your building, you felt those nerves creeping up on you again. God, you hadn’t felt this nervous about a date since high school.

“I had fun tonight,” Bucky said first, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Me too,” you smiled back. “I’m excited for what you plan for next time.”

Bucky laughed at this, the crinkle of his nose making your own smile grow. God, you wanted to invite him inside already. In your defense, you’ve known him for a full month and spent even longer getting heart-eyes over him in college.

But you reined in your hormones and just took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest. His right hand came up to rest on your waist, but he kept the metal hand in his pocket. With your hand placement, you could feel the thrum of his heartbeat and judging by the pace, you knew you were both on the same page. As you were trying to shove your nerves aside, Bucky asked the one question you were hoping for.

“Can I kiss you?”

Knowing he wanted this as much as you did relieved some of your nerves, but also made the moment that much more real. You smiled up at him and nodded your head.

“Yes, please do.”

You perched up on your toes to meet him halfway, letting his lips mold to yours. His hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer; you gripped the lapel of his jacket in your fists. Suddenly the cold of the night no longer existed. All you could feel was the warmth radiating off of him as he held you close. He pulled back for a second before diving right back in, this time nipping at your bottom lip. You giggled against him, but didn’t stop him from taking the innocent kiss a step further. Your hands slid from his chest to the nape of his neck before tangling into his long hair. The vibration from his moan as you tugged on his hair ran straight down your spine, making it even harder to leave the date alone.

Reluctantly, you both pulled apart just enough for your noses to brush against each other, the stubble of his beard still tickling your nose. You opened your eyes enough to see the smile on his lips as he pulled back a bit more to see your face.

“I’ll see you Monday?” you said quietly, as if speaking any louder would break you two out of your bubble.

“See you Monday, [Y/N],” Bucky replied just as quietly. His hand slipped from your waist as you backed away, biting your lip at him before you turned and scurried up the steps. Bucky stood on the sidewalk until he could see the light in your apartment flick on, just to make sure you were safe.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x Stark!reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #Stark!reader #dad!tony #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fic

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wandas-sunshine · 4 years ago

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Avengers Christmas Traditions

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Stephen Strange

Steve: Every year, without fail, you and Steve would make gingerbread houses. Some years you’d have lots of free time and you’d make them from scratch. They always turned out to be a mess, but the two of you didn’t mind it at all. You loved how intensely he’d concentrate on getting the icing snow just right, or the way he tried to make the gingerbread people to look just like the two of you. It always ended with icing stained hands and sugar sweet kisses shared between you two

Bucky: You always helped him put up the decorations. He was very particular about the way things looked, and you were more than happy to help bring his visions to life. Bucky and his family used to put up decorations in the 40s, so it’s something that’s close to his heart and it’s a huge honor to be let in on it. You spend hours decorating the tree, and even longer on the rest of your living space. Once it’s finished, it looks like something straight out of the movies. It’s an exhausting feat, but it’s worth it to see Bucky smile so brightly.

Sam: You and Sam make homemade Christmas decorations. It started as a family tradition on your side that you never grew out of. It was always a mess of glitter and paper clippings. He usually managed to burn himself with the hot glue, so you always had to stop your creative process to baby your big bad Avenger until he felt better. The time spent was great for your relationship, and it was nice to have a tradition and new decorations to pass down if you two ever decided to have children.

Tony: You and Tony always do a Secret Santa type of toy drive You would be assigned a couple of children and proceed to go all out to make the kid’s Christmas outstanding. The best part wasn’t wrapping everything nice and neat, or watching Tony get into his Iron Man suit to carry a sack of gifts to the drop off point. It was knowing that you did something that not many people could do, and that you’d put some of your unfair amount of wealth into something that made other people happy.

Peter: Christmas movie marathons, ones that lasted hours until the both of you where falling asleep all curled up together. It started when you were just kids. You would snuggle up under mountains of blankets with cookies and popcorn in your favorite Christmas pajamas. They were always the same movies, you’d seen them all time and time again. Sometimes you’d invite friends along, but usually you took the time to just be calm and together in each others arms.

Wanda: Every year Wanda would take you ice skating. She was the one to teach you. She was elegant on the ice, but she didn’t laugh at you when you’d fall or have to cling to her as you slid into the splits. And once you got cold, and you found yourself shivering, she’d wrap her scarf around your neck and take you to get hot cocoa. She did everything she could to make sure it was like one of her cheesy romance movies.

Pietro: Every year the two of you build forts. You call it your Santa camp. From the time you were tiny, you would build a pillow fort and try your hardest to wait up and catch Santa. Even as you grew older, you continued it and eventually Pietro joined in. You’d build a fort using everything you could get your hands on and fill it with snacks. It was a silly little thing, complete with movies and a long night of cuddles.

Natasha: The two of you get matching Christmas pajamas every year. It had begun as just a sweet little gesture, you’d picked up footy pajamas with little penguins all over them. It was cute, and dorky, and you’d figured that she would hate it. But Natasha latched onto it, insisting you buy new ones every year. And how could you complain when she looked so damn cute in the new Christmas cat PJs you’d picked out.

Clint: Every year the two of you go to look at the light displays. He likes seeing the childlike excitement that lights up your eyes at the way everything twinkles around you. You insist that it’s romantic, and Clint doesn’t exactly understand, but he would do anything to make you happy.

Stephen: Every Christmas Eve you each picked a gift for the other to open early. It didn’t start out as anything particularly sweet, but rather you begging to be allowed to open something early. The anticipation was too much, and he grew annoyed with your incessant pleading so he let you open something. But he loved how giddy you looked tearing through the paper. Every year since, he surprised you with a gift to open early before you were given the chance to ask.

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katie-writes24 · 4 years ago

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Five Of A Kind

Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad x reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, opinionated comments towards the Spider-Man movies, I guess some things are implied, but barely

Just something I came up with. I’m a sucker for Poly!hamilsquad :) Takes place at the start of their relationship. Uh, shoutout to Pinterest for giving me prompt ideas ig? I’m going to start working on more requests after this. Enjoy!

She sat in a booth in the corner, watching through the window the busy streets of New York. The sun had been replaced by heavy clouds, and it was obvious it would rain any minute.

She tapped an impatient finger against the handle of her mug, looking at her phone once more before the seat across her was filled by John and Lafayette.

“About time,” She raises a brow and John looked back sheepishly.

“At least we’re not the last ones here,” Just then a waiter came over and took their drink orders. When he left, Laf took her hand into his.

“How are you, mon ange? We have not seen you in a while.” Y/N felt a pang of guilt hit her. She had been absent from the past months movie and game nights, missed out on a couple of dates, all due to school work piling up.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just had a lot of work to do. I swear, I won’t cancel again.” She smiled and Laf kissed her knuckles, only to be startled when Hercules threw an arm around him, pulling him into a kiss.

“Ce qui ne va pas avec vous? You scared me!” Laf put a hand to his heart while John snickered beside him.

Hercules chuckled and sat down next to Y/N, placing an arm at the back of the booth and kissing her cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Alex is last, as usual. Give me my ten dollars,” He nudged Laf who rolled his eyes, but pulled out a bill from his wallet. The waiter came back with their drinks and took Herc’s order, as well as a coffee for Alex.

“Has he been working this late the whole week?” She asked. Though she has been doing the same recently, they all knew college classes and his job were totally different. Alex working late would only bring more tension, stress and sleep deprivation to them all.

“Just the past two days,” John shook his head, looking out the window as the rain came. “Dude doesn’t even think time exist anymore.”

“Speak of the devil,” Hercules nodded towards the front of the cafe, and they all watched him walk over.

“Fifteen minutes? That’s a new record, man.” Y/N said bitterly, but not really meaning it.

“Water falls from the sky and people don’t know how to drive.” Alexander sits next to Laf and takes off his jacket. “I’m sorry, I’ll buy this time.”

“Bribery will get you nowhere,” She sipped from her mug, but willingly ordered her meal carefree.

~~~~~

“So...it’s one character?”

“Correct.”

“But three different actors?”

“Right.”

“In three different...worlds?” Lafayette tilted his head as he watched the screen.

“Well...kinda. It’s basically in the same universe, but just different stories. Like the last Peter Parker is set in the same timeline as the Avengers.” Alex shoves more popcorn in his mouth as Laf narrows his eyes.

“I do not get it.”

“You don’t have to get it, babe,” John smiles and runs his hand through Y/N’s hair.

“Uh, yes, he does have to get it if we’re going to binge all of the Spider-Man movies,” She looked up at John as if he was crazy. He giggled and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“All you have to understand is Andrew Garfield was the worst Spider-Man,” Hercules said, earning agreeing hums from Alex.

“But he is the cutest one,” Y/N smiled as she watched said actor on screen in his suit.

“Oh, I can totally fight with you on that!” Alex gave her an accusing stare.

“Non, I think he’s pretty cute!” Laf snuggles further into John, and the latter tilts his head up and gives him a peck on his jaw.

“You haven’t even seen Tom Holland yet, your opinions aren’t valid right now!” Alex throws popcorn at his head from the other couch.

“Shhhhh, this is the best part...” Herc put his finger up to Alex’s lips, and he quickly took it into his mouth, causing Hercules to groan in annoyance.

~~~~~

The bell above the door jingled, Hercules looking up from the suit he was working on. His concentrated frown turned into a warming smile as he saw her walk in with a plastic bag in her hand.

“Tell me there’s something edible in there?” He leaned his arms against the counter and smirked as she froze in her steps.

“Are you saying my presence isn’t enough for you?” Y/N scoffed and set the bag down next to him. “But yes, I might have some food in here.”

“I thought you had class?” Herc smiled as she pulled out two containers of burgers.

“I just finished, thought you’d be hungry. I knew you had to come in early, and from John’s drunk text last night, it seemed like you didn’t get enough sleep.” She laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“I got maybe four hours. I don’t know how Alex does it,” He munched on a fry and intertwined their hands together. “Thanks for the food.”

“Of course,” Y/N smiled and the two ate in comfortable silence after that. She could see the different types of fabric thrown across the back tables. It was an obvious sign of stress, it looked like Herc’s office at his apartment. When they finished their meal, she cleared her throat, “Hey, don’t stress yourself out okay? I know you guys are understaffed, but that doesn’t mean all the work has to be thrown on you.”

“I know, but I was the only one on shift today, which means I get all the new orders.” He ran a hand over his face and sighed. “I should probably get back to work.”

“Sure,” She started to leave, but his hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his chest. She leaned into the embrace and smiled.

“You can stay if you want? I could use the company,” He kisses her head and leans back to look into her eyes.

“I guess I could work on some essays,” She leaned up and kissed him soundly. “Thanks.”

~~~~~

She knocked on the door as she tried to shake off the snow sticking to her coat. It opened a moment later with a relieved looking Aaron on the other side.

“Thank god,” He sighed and stepped to the side to let her in.

“Still hasn’t been out of his room?” Y/N stripped out of her jacket and looked around the messy apartment.

“Not since this morning, and it was only to get another coffee. I’m surprised you guys didn’t check on him sooner.” Aaron raised a brow as she chuckled.

“We talked to him two nights ago, and he seemed fine. Trust me, this isn’t the worse it’s been.” She knocked on his bedroom door, and after not receiving an answer, she opened it slowly.

Alexander was sitting at his desk, back to the door and typing away on his laptop. She sighed as she looked around the room. Cans of energy drinks and candy wrappers had been thrown hazardously near the small trash can in the corner, along with shreds of paper. His bedsheets were thrown carelessly and different documents laid on top.

Y/N shook her head and walked towards where he was seated at his computer chair. She wrapped her arms around the him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“You are freezing,” He winced, voice hoarse like he hasn’t spoken in days.

“How long have you been sitting here?” She asked, eyes roaming over the paragraphs he was typing.

“Today?”

“Alex!” She tutted disapprovingly, reaching for his laptop to close it, but he was quicker, grabbing at her hand.

“No! I just need to finish this real quick!” Shoving her hand away, he leaned forward and typed faster.

“You’ve been in here for hours, for all I know days,” Y/N’s hands wrapped around his, and squeezed them. “When’s the last time you ate something? Or showered? Or walked around?”

The silence was enough to fill her question.

“You’re not taking care of yourself, Al. And do you remember that we had plans tonight? We were all gonna go ice skating.”

“Fuck, it’s already Saturday,” Alex ran a hand over his face and grumbled. “I’m sorry.”

There was frustration in his voice, and she would be lying if Y/N said she didn’t feel bad for him. He has been stressed about work lately, picking up a lot of other people’s slack and working late hours. She held him closer and kissed his neck softly, his own hand coming up to her arm and rubbing a soothing thumb across it. They stayed like that, until he eventually leaned forward and started typing away again, saving the document once again.

“When’s your deadline?”

“Tuesday.”

“Are you kidding me?!” She slammed the computer closed and pulled him away from the chair.

~~~~~

“What the hell, John?” Hercules slammed his cards against the table as John laughed.

“You guys suck at this game,” He smirked and laid his cards out.

“You’re cheating, its so obvious that you’re cheating,” Alex walked away from the table, Laf smirking at how easy it was for him to get mad.

“It’s just a game, mon amie,” Laf chuckled as Alex flipped him off.

“I’m turning in, I gotta work the early shift tomorrow,” Hercules stretched his arms and yawned.

“You are all welcomed to stay the night, there is plenty of space,” Laf offered, hope in his voice. He liked when he didn’t have to go to sleep alone, which is something that hasn’t happened in quite a while.

“I can’t Laf, I got an early meeting,” Alex frowned as he put in his shoes.

“Me too, and I got to be early or Lee will never let me hear the end of it,” John kissed the top of Laf’s head and walked towards Alex.

“I can stay, I don’t have class tomorrow,” Y/N grinned as Laf turned from disappointed to excited.

“Don’t have too much fun, you two,” Hercules smiled and kissed them both goodbye, Alex and John doing the same before leaving the house.

Laf wiggled his eyebrows with a smirk at her, which she pushed his shoulder and walked upstairs to his room. He soon followed and gave her a pair of pajamas to change into.

They fell into bed easily, Y/N cuddled up into his side as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. She could hear his heartbeat and sighed with content.

“What are you thinking about, cherie?” He whispered, not wanting to disturb the quiet.

She hesitated before answering, “How great this all has been...all of us, together. It’s pretty amazing.”

“That it is,” Laf kissed her forehead and smiled. “I wouldn’t trade these past months for anything.”

Y/N leaned forward and captured his lips, not moving until he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He held her cheek with care, pecking her lips a few more times before pulling away.

“Get some sleep, Y/N. For all I know you could be schemeing with all this kissing.” She chuckled and kissed him one last time before turning over and leaning into his chest. He kissed the back of her neck before wishing her sweet dreams.

~~~~~

Classes had finally ended for the semester, which meant Y/N was making plans to catch up on sleep. Yet, despite her wishes to stay in her dorm for the break, the boys offered for her to switch between their homes, saying that it would allow them to spend more time together, and, let’s face it, they all didn’t like going to sleep alone.

The first weekend, they all wanted to celebrate her successful school semester, and while they wanted to go out and party, she was perfectly content with ordering take out and being lazy on Alex’s sofa.

Y/N was spread out across John, face buried in his chest while he ran his hand up her back comfortingly. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, startling between an explosion on the TV and Hercules loud laughter.

She was almost asleep when she felt John’s fingers begin to move across her spine. He had a pattern, going back and forth and up and down, almost like he was writing something. A couple minutes later she went to turn over so her face would be towards the cushion, before she figured out what he was writing.

“I love you, too,” Y/N mumbled, barely giving it a second thought before she knocked out completely.

John stared at her in shock, eyes wide and a blush across his cheeks. Even though the volume was loud, the other boys could hear her clearly, looking over in amusement, shock and adoration.

John swallowed and embraced Y/N, nuzzling into her neck and smiling as she snored.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!!!

@dontblinkumightmiss @wwaywardwinchester

#hamilton #hamilton imagine #hamilsquad #hamilsquad x reader #poly!hamilsquad x reader #polyhamilsquad x reader #john laurens x reader #alexander hamilton x reader #hercules mulligan x reader #marquis de lafayette x reader #lafayette x reader #hamilton fic #hamilsquad fic #ohhh the soft boys #brings me joy #my writings #uh this is like my third fic of referencing superhero movies?#and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon #sorry not even remotely sorry

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

It’s You and Me - Chapter 9

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 1556

Rating: E

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back. Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you. For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down. Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father. Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 10: Now

You had fallen into a slightly uneasy truce with yourself. The part of you that had been adamant that you not fuck up any kids’ lives had been soothed down by the part that was really enjoying being back with Clint again. Some things made it easier to compartmentalize. Children weren't by default terrible and the problem you had was never hating kids. It was hating your childhood. Besides, if there were any kids you were going to love instantly it would be Clint’s. Maybe it was never going to be in a motherly way, but they were his and you loved him.

Clint seemed to be making sure you never got put into the parenting role. You were never the babysitter or decision-maker when it came to things they should or shouldn’t be doing. If they wanted to go out for ice cream he’d decide if they could on his own and then ask if you wanted to as well, instead of asking you what you thought about the idea. That made things easier too. It meant you could avoid the step-mother role even if it did occasionally haunt you.

Cooper, Lila, and Nate seemed to take to you dating their father pretty well. They were good kids generally speaking, but the concern that they might see you as a step-mother worried you. The two older two definitely seemed to treat you as an entity in the house that they needed to be aware of. They didn’t come to you to ask for things, but they didn’t straight up ignore you. They’d say good morning when they saw you first thing and goodnight when they went to bed. If they were getting themselves a snack they might ask if you wanted some and they’d make general conversation about music or tv shows with you. However, it wasn't the same level of excitement as when they were with Natasha Romanoff, who they were very close with, or the same level of deference when Ebony was in the room. You hoped that didn’t mean they resented you, or they thought you didn’t like them.

Nate, however, seemed to be completely different. He’d seek you out more and want to share things with you, like what his favorite toys were or the pictures he’d drawn. He’d come and sit on the couch with you and flop himself against you. It was a little scary considering how you felt about everything.

Clint kept pushing for you to join the Avengers, taking you to the Tower and ‘randomly’ having you bump into people who would then lecture you about using your abilities for good. It had the opposite effect than desired. The longer the lecture went the less you wanted to be subjected to further lectures about anything ever again. You still kept going in - partially because it was funny to see how frustrated Clint was when you’d say no, but mostly because now you were burned, you were very interested to see where this data you’d helped steal went. Not that they’d tell you anything. You weren’t an Avenger, so you weren’t privy to that kind of information. It seemed to have something to do with the circus people, and you were curious to know why none of them had approached you about their underground dealings.

That was all for weekdays though - unless it was the end of the world, Clint was home on weekends. That didn’t mean you were free from him trying to recruit you.

“So you’re just not gonna get a job?” He asked. He was sitting beside you on the couch with Lila sitting in front of him while he put her hair in a halo braid. There were some half-formed plans about going out in the afternoon, but everyone was just taking their time. You were eating cereal despite it being 11.30, Cooper was still in his pajamas, and Nate was hanging upside off the side of the couch with only his underwear, a t-shirt, and one sock on.

“Maybe I already have a job,” you teased and he looked at you with his eyes narrowed.

“You don’t, do you?” he asked.

“No. I don’t,” you agreed.

“The Avengers have really good medical, and a great 401K,” he said.

“Yeah because no one ever lasts long enough to cash out,” you snarked.

“She doesn’t have to be an Avenger if she doesn’t want to dad,” Lila said.

“Yeah, Clint,” you agreed. “Listen to your daughter.”

“Gee, thanks for your help, Li,” he teased. “You should see her though, she can shoot an arrow while doing a handstand while riding a horse.”

“You can do that,” Lila said, sounding bored.

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “Ruined the only cool thing I can do with your over achievement. Thanks, Clint.”

He pulled a face at you and was just about to say something when his phone rang. He stuck a bobby pin in Lila’s hair to hold it in place as he answered. “Yeah? - No, but I can’t… Fuck! … Are you shitting me right now? Ebony is off today. I think she went… no, I get it. Yeah. Okay.”

He hung up the phone and got up. “Gotta go in. Can you watch them? It’s an emergency.”

“What? But Clint…” You argued.

“Dad, you haven’t finished my hair!” Lila yelped.

“You can finish it, right?” Clint said to you as he grabbed his keys and tried to evade Lucky who was now dancing around his feet.

“Clint!” You yelped.

“You know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have to,” he said and kissed Lila on the top of the head and then you, before blowing a raspberry on Nate’s tummy. The little boy squealed and fell off the chair in a heap. “Thanks, sugar. I’ll owe you one.”

“The biggest one ever!” You shouted as he ducked out the door.

Lila sighed and started to unwind her hair.

“I can do it,” you said.

She rolled her eyes. “You sounded really excited about the idea.”

You flinched. “I’m sorry… it’s not… I’m not… I can do your hair.”

She looked at you like she was trying to get a read on you. “We don’t want you to be our mom either you know?”

“Lila!” Cooper scolded.

You ran your hand down your face. “I know. I know… that’s… that’s part of the reason I’ve been the way I’ve been. I don’t not like you guys. If anything it’s because I like you a lot and I hate that you lost your mom. But I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be your mom or take her place.”

“Well, good,” Lila said. “We don’t want that either.”

“You want me to do your hair and I’ll be real with you?” You asked.

She nodded and moved into position. “So here’s the thing,” you said, as you started taking up where Clint had left off. “Me and your dad… we had pretty crappy childhoods. The people who were supposed to care for us - they hurt us instead. And I guess… your dad decided that when he grew up he’d have a family and make sure they never got hurt the way he was. But I decided that I didn’t want to risk ruining any kids' lives. We ended up breaking up and going our own separate paths and they went just like that. I never had a family and he got married and got you guys. But now we’re back in each other's lives and I care about your dad. I always have. And I am really scared that that’s gonna mean you guys get hurt and I’ve been trying really hard to just… let you be so it won’t be me that hurts you.”

“You really never wanted kids?” Cooper asked.

You shook your head. “Not because I don’t like them though. I think you guys are awesome.”

“You can be our friend if you like? We have a mom. She might have died but she was still our mom. But we also have an Auntie Nat and an Auntie Wanda and an Auntie Kate and an Ebony. You can just be whoever you are,” Cooper suggested.

You smiled and laughed softly. “You’re pretty smart, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Cooper joked.

“Friends then?” You asked.

“Yeah, friends,” he said.

Lila nodded.

“Okay, but here’s the thing,” you said. “There’s a thing that friends have that adults in charge don’t. You’re allowed to tell me off. Okay? If I overstep, or I do something that upsets you, you can tell me. I won’t be mad and because friends can’t punish each other the way your dad can. Right?”

Lila turned her head and looked at you. “Right. Okay.”

“I’m sorry I’m dating your dad,” you said lamely.

She laughed. “No, you aren’t. But that’s okay. He… it’s been a while since he’s not just been faking being happy.”

You smiled and went back to fixing her hair.

“You should tell us about the criminal stuff you’ve been doing if we’re friends,” Cooper said.

You started laughing. “I’m sure your dad would love it if I told you about that.”

“Come on,” Cooper begged. “You said we have to tell each other stuff.”

You laughed harder and shook your head. “Okay… where should I start?”

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #it's you and me

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years ago

Text

Once Upon A Summer (Ch.2)

The very first jar of baby food that Tony had opened, he visibly gagged and glared at the vile concoction. He was seriously reconsidering feeding it to Peter but after asking FRIDAY about it, it was deemed safe to eat. Tony made a noise of disgust but went to fish Peter out of his new playpen, but that was when he discovered what he and Stephen had forgotten to buy at the store.

A highchair.

So Tony had to seat the baby on his knee and feed him that way, appalled when Peter seemed to enjoy what the man was feeding him. At least whatever made it into his mouth. It was supposed to be chicken and gravy but it just looked and smelled like a smoother version of wet cat food to him. Peter ate about half of it before Tony closed the revolting source of smell and gave him a bottle to fill up, and he took that chance to eat the sandwich he had thrown together. The baby's hands were full so Peter wouldn't be tempted to try and grab Tony's food, but the engineer still ate as quickly as he could. Even he knew babies had a short attention span. There was a chance that Peter would get bored with his bottle.

By some miracle, they both finished at the same time and Tony left the bottle and his plate on the table to clean up later. He was more concerned with cleaning up his kid and getting him into a clean diaper and some pajamas and then into bed. When Tony got up to his room, he grabbed everything he would need and laid the changing pad on his bed and then Peter on top of it, finally getting the Iron Spider suit off of him.

"How did Strange even know how to work this and get you into a diaper?" Tony mumbles to himself.

Peter helpfully made noises in response and rolled over onto his tummy to try and explore, but Tony turned him back over.

"You gotta work with me here kid. This is new territory for me." He grabs the teething ring sitting nearby and hands it to Peter. "Here. Keep yourself occupied with this for a few minutes."

Tony takes off the diaper next (sighing with relief to find it just wet) and moves it aside to deal with later. While he goes about grabbing a clean one to unfold, Peter makes a new noise that he was unfamiliar with. It wasn't alarming, it just sounded like relief. Like-

"Nonono!" Tony panics and tries to cover the baby with anything, but it was too late. A steady stream of urine hits Tony's shirt and he looks down at the baby when he giggles. "Some teenage part of you is still in there somewhere and I bet you're equally mortified and laughing your ass off." He finally says.

Peter answers with another coo around his teething ring and Tony quickly wipes him down and diapers him before grabbing a wipe to clean Peter's mouth free of chicken puree. After a quick glance at the toy, he found it free of food particles so he was able to finish by dressing him in some Iron Man footie pajamas. Tony had no idea they were even making baby clothes with the Avengers on them but when he saw them, he had to get them. Besides, there weren't any Spiderman ones yet.

"Friday, gradually dim the lights would you?" Tony asks, finishing off with some gel on Peter's gums and then picking him up.

"Yes, Boss."

The lights went from their normal setting to a dim light, and over the next few minutes, it would get darker and darker until it was just light enough for Tony to see where he was going. He didn't even know how a baby should be put to bed so Stephen suggested that Tony make the room boring. As dark as possible and maybe some classical music playing very quietly if needed. For now he held Peter close and gently rubbed his back as he paced the room to help the baby get ready to go to sleep. Teen Peter must have had an exciting day because Baby Peter wasn't fighting bedtime. The tiny yawn Tony heard was enough to make anyone with a heart of ice soften...and so was the fact that Peter curled closer to him as he started to fall asleep.

Tony didn't dare make a sound. When he was safely able to stop rubbing Peter's back, he walked over to the crib and leaned over as far as he could. Then he slowly lowered the infant into the crib and moved away quietly when Peter made no sign of waking back up. He stayed long enough to change into some pajamas, throwing his soiled shirt into the hamper, and left the room to clean up.

"FRIDAY, place an order for an appropriate highchair would you? And a reliable car seat." Tony rubs the back of his neck. "I may as well do this right."

"Way ahead of you." The AI replies...rather cheekily.

Tony was tempted to go down to his lab after cleaning up, but like Peter, the shock and excitement of the day wore on him and he was actually willing to go to sleep. It was probably best since Stephen said Peter would be teething. Sleep was a requirement now. Tony had someone that relied on him and he couldn't take care of them running on an hour of sleep. So he went back up to his bedroom and quietly slipped inside and into bed. After he pulled his comforter up and settled into his mattress, he could hear the soft breaths coming from the crib just a few feet away. It was weird. He wasn't used to hearing someone else in his room anymore after he broke it off with Pepper a few years ago...but it was soothing. Tony knew where Peter was and that he was safe and in reaching distance.

The poor kid had gone through so much that Tony personally vowed to do everything he could to keep Peter from further harm and pain. He tried not to get close, but Peter had this quality about him that made him so likeable and before Tony knew it, he started to see Peter like his own.

And it terrified him. He wasn't father material but he kept acting like one. He found ways to keep Peter safe, took him in when he had no one else, and made sure he had everything he needed. The thought of his kid getting hurt made his chest tight.

"Good night kid." Tony mumbles to the sleeping infant.

========

The teething gel didn't last all night. Peter woke up fussing, jolting Tony out of sleep and partially confused. When reality came rushing back, he got up, checked the baby's diaper and then tried some more gel when he found the diaper clean. It worked like a charm in seconds and Peter settled back down enough for Tony to return him to the crib and go back to sleep. The process repeated a couple more times throughout the night, and when a decent hour of the morning came around, Tony was still asleep. Well...mostly asleep. After Peter woke up the first time, Tony was in tune with when the baby woke up so he never got all the way asleep. So he was partially aware when Peter woke up and sat up in his crib. To his relief, the baby was content to babble quietly and Tony took the chance to get a few more minutes of sleep.

He almost didn't hear his door open. It was slow and quiet like whoever it was knew that they needed to be, but he wasn't worried. Whoever it was, FRIDAY didn't deem them a threat. Tony eventually found out though when he watched a shadow move silently over to the crib and Peter stand up with the aid of the bars. The infant babbles a little louder in excitement and the shadow shushes him.

"Let's let Tony sleep a little longer Spiderling."

It was Stephen. Of course it was. He was the only one that knew about Peter's predicament right now, and of course he would just waltz right into Tony's bedroom. Even though he all but demanded the sorcerer's help, he at least has the decency to be quiet about it. Soon enough, Stephen left with Peter as quietly as he came and Tony finally got another half an hour of uninterrupted sleep before he decided to get up. He wasn't really going to, but he smelt coffee and that was enough to lure him out of bed and get him to shuffle downstairs to the kitchen. He had tunnel vision until he got to the coffee maker and poured himself a full mug after fumbling for one and only after drinking half of it, did he finally look around for Stephen and Peter.

He didn't have to look far. He first saw Peter in the playpen drinking a bottle, and then he saw Stephen sitting nearby on the couch reading a book. A normal one from what Tony could see at his angle. There was some jazz playing softly from the speakers as well instead of having the tv on, and Peter looked content.

"I'll have to leave the solid food for you to feed to him." Stephen says. "I can't imagine that any will get into his mouth when my hands shake." He looks up at Tony as the older man walks over and slumps onto the couch next to him.

"I'm surprised you're here so early to be honest. I expected you to make sure he wasn't dead and then go back home." He admits.

Stephen shrugs. "I had nothing much better to do today."

"You even made me coffee."

"Your...robot voice...told me you had a rough night."

"AI. And her name is FRIDAY." Tony corrects.

He was mildly offended but Stephen simply nodded and corrected himself so Tony calmed down. The sorcerer probably didn't know what to call her so Tony couldn't fault him for it. He still didn't have the energy to get angry about it anyway.

"The teething gel only helped for about a couple of hours before he woke up again," Tony explains. "It was never his diaper and I checked."

"Well I put a teething ring in the freezer for later. He's probably ready for some fruit or something now though."

"Oh yeah." Tony gulps down the rest of his coffee and gets back up. "FRIDAY, did my order come yet?"

"Yes, Boss. The packages are waiting for you in the usual spot." She replies.

"Great." He turns to look back at Stephen. "Could you watch him for a little longer? That way I can go grab the highchair and come set it up."

"Sure."

Tony walks into the kitchen to leave his mug by the coffee maker for a later refill and then takes the elevator down to the shipping area. He didn't even bother changing since no one would be up at this hour...at least no one that cared if he decided to strut around the tower looking disheveled in his pajamas. Tony couldn't really bring himself to care much either. It was a quick trip anyway. He found his two packages, strong-armed them back to the elevator and nudged the box with the car seat out and aside once he reached the penthouse again. The highchair was promptly opened and wrestled out of its box with a few grunts and curses and in just a few minutes, it was standing ready to receive a baby by the kitchen table. There wasn't much assembly to it except the tray and the padding for the seat anyway.

"Never thought I would see any of this here." Tony puffs out.

Stephen closes his book and gets up to take Peter out of the playpen who had already gotten up with the help of the playpen. "I never thought I would be in this situation either. It's one thing to give a baby a check-up--"

"It's a whole 'nother trying to actually raise them." Tony finishes and Stephen nods as he takes Peter over to the high chair and places him in it. "Oh by the way Doc, that chicken stuff is atrocious. Pretty sure it was toxic waste."

"I think the fruit will be better on your nose." Stephen laughs. "You may even want to try it yourself."

Tony doubted it, but when he got a jar of apples and blueberries off the counter and popped it open, he took the risk of smelling it...and was pleasantly surprised. He actually did want to give it a try so he stuck the tip of his pinky in it, and then stuck it in his mouth and stared into the jar.

"Wow. That's actually pretty good." Peter cries at him in protest when he watches the man eat some of his food and Tony rolls his eyes as he grabs a baby spoon. "What? Not fast enough for you kid?"

Stephen sighs. "Tony, just feed him." He says with exasperation and walks over to the fridge. "I'm impressed."

"What?" Tony asks as he feeds Peter a small spoonful of purple goop.

"Your fridge is stocked."

"The amount of sass coming out of your mouth is just as impressive," Tony quips.

"Do you want an omelette or not?"

"He cooks too!" Tony cackles and feeds Peter some more. "Did you really just come here to raid my fridge?"

"Oh no, you caught me." Stephen says sarcastically.

Tony smirks but turns his attention back to feeding Peter who was eating the fruit puree faster than he had eaten the chicken the night before. He eventually had to stop though since Stephen had said not to feed him the entire jar. His stomach was still getting used to the different foods.

"Sorry kiddo. Gotta cut you off." There was another babble of protest but Peter was happy to take the frozen teething ring Stephen had taken out of the freezer and offered to him.

"So...what do you want in your omelette?" Stephen asks.

"Anchovies."

"...you're kidding right?"

"Of course I am. I don't even have those around."

"Your level of sarcasm is so refined that I almost couldn't tell." Stephen rolls his eyes.

"Touché."

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #baby peter parker #peter parker

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shakespeareanqueer · 5 years ago

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Ghost of Unprotected Sex Past Chapter 13 - Paparazzi

Pairing: Tony Stark x F!Reader // IronDad

Series summary: When your daughter gets sick, you finally have to tell Tony Stark he has a kid. How will he react? How will he get involved in your life?

Chapter summary: The secret is out.

Word count: 1,682 words ✨ Content warnings: Blackmail, stalking, obnoxious journalists

A/N: This one fills my first (and probably only at this point) bingo for Tony Stark Bingo! Please enjoy!

I will reblog with links and tags

Inevitably, it came. The day you had been fearing since you first learned you were pregnant with Tony Stark’s child. The day your secret was unveiled, against your will.

You stared at the email in Tony’s inbox, your chest pounding with horror. You were totally frozen. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, terror spreading through your limbs, stock still, before Tony finally found you. One look at your wan face and mortified expression and he was rushing to your side, kneeling down beside your desk chair.

“What’s wrong??” he asked. “Y/n, please tell me what happened?”

Though your arm felt like lead, you managed to make a vague gesture towards the computer. With an apologetic look, Tony wheeled your desk chair back a few inches so he could wedge his way in, then grabbed the mouse and wiggled it to wake the screen up.

The traumatizing image had been so seared in your brain, you hadn’t even noticed the screen go blank.

As he scrolled through the email, Tony’s expression grew more and more concerned and sour. When he finished, he turned back to you. He stroked a hand through his beard pensively, sighed, and leaned back against your desk.

“So, someone knows,” he stated simply.

The email was a blackmail note. Photos of Tony playing with Amelie at a near-by park, buying her ice cream out of an ice cream truck at the end of the driveway and then escorting her back into the mansion up the long drive, and the most intimate set of photographs—all three of you, in your pajamas, watching the stars on Tony’s expansive lawn and then heading back inside together.

The body of the email threatened to release the photos, and therefore the information that Tony Stark had a ‘secret family,’ unless one million dollars were wired to a bank routing number provided.

You were starting to shake uncontrollably, and Tony knelt by your side, stroking his hand up your arm in a comforting gesture. Tears were beginning to flow down your cheeks.

“This dude’s got balls messing with me,” Tony said. “But they aren’t made of iron.”

“Are you…” You sniffled. “Are you suggesting your testicles are made of iron, Tony?”

“I wasn’t—Not my testicles no, but my—My suit…” Tony stammered, and through your tears you managed several chuckles. It warmed his heart to see you cheered up, even just a little.

It was simple enough catching the guy. The bank routing number was meant to be untraceable, but Tony was more than just a suit—he was a hacking genius. He managed to find the perpetrator, and had Rhodey arrest him immediately.

But this whole incident opened your eyes to the impossibility of keeping your daughter secret forever, especially if you were living and working with Tony. It was time to tell the world. You had a heart-to-heart with Amelie about it, and she accepted the idea. In fact, she showed an enormous amount of grace and maturity about it for an eight-year-old.

“Is today the day I get to be on TV???!!!!”

She showed less grace and maturity when the day finally came. But what could you expect. She was a kid, excitable and adorable.

One of the most difficult things you had had to do as part of your job so far, was arrange for Tony to have the press conference where he revealed your daughter’s existence to the world. When he stepped out onto the podium to make his speech, you weren’t sure you’d be able to hear him over the beating of your own heart.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming to hear my announcement today,” he began. “This is not Avengers business, but is, in fact, personal.”

“So this is not about the return of Captain Rogers and the rest of the Avengers?” one of the journalists called out. You recognized him as being from one of the lower, scummier tabloids. “Awww!!”

You whispered to the security guard beside you.

“This matter is very close to my heart, and while I am usually a laid-back sort of person, I would like this matter taken seriously, more for the benefit of my family than myself.”

Tony spared a small glance at you out of the corner of his eyes. Hearing him refer to you as his family made you feel some kind of way, but you were not sure quite what that way was.

“There have been some rumors floating around about me recently, and I would like to lay them to rest by putting the entire truth out there,” Tony continued. He took a deep breath to center himself. “About nine years ago, I—”

“Became Iron Man, yeah, yeah, we know! Get to the good stuff!” the reporter from before was shouting desperately, trying to hear the announcement before he was forced out of the hall, as the security guard had been urging him quietly and discretely along. With a nod from you, the burly security guard hauled the man over his shoulder and removed him from the hall entirely.

Tony took another deep breath and tried again. “About nine years ago, I engaged in relations with a woman with whom I was barely acquainted. Those who are familiar with my behavior patterns at that time will hardly be surprised. It was one of my last liaisons before I was kidnapped, became Iron Man, and cleaned up my act in that regard.

“Many people predicted, during the years I engaged in my most heinous behavior and had quite a significant number of relations, that it was statistically likely that there might be a result to one of those unions. Over the years, several women have claimed their children to be mine, but none of those claims have been true. Until now.”

Whispers and clammer began to fill the room, but Tony silenced them simply by raising his hand. You marveled at how the man known for being so crazy and fancy-free, managed to look so regal in this moment.

“A couple months ago, a woman I had previously been acquainted with very little, but had had relations with nine years ago, approached me to inform me that her eight-year-old daughter was, in fact, mine. While I have not had any DNA testing done, I have had no reasons to doubt these claims, and have full confidence in the mother’s integrity and the truth that her child, Amelie Y/L/N, is, in fact, my daughter.”

The chatter began again, but Tony just spoke over it this time.

“Due to recent health concerns, my daughter and her mother have been living with me. The mother, Y/N Y/L/N, also now serves as my executive assistant. I can assure you she is more than qualified for the position, and this was not merely a case of nepotism. I have been in need of an executive assistant since I promoted my last one to CEO of Stark Industries, and in even more desperate need since more Avengers-related concerns fell directly onto my shoulders.” His voice cracked slightly right at the end; he didn’t say it, but everyone knew he was referring to the loss of Steve, Wanda, Clint and Sam on the Avengers team.

“The main reason Ms. Y/L/N kept Amelie from my awareness and the awareness of the general public is due to the fact that they are private people. Any attempts to defame Ms. Y/L/N or my daughter will be met with legal action, and any attempt to invade their privacy will be met with the fullest force of the law. As a family, we have come to the communal decision to request the utmost privacy from the press and the public, and we humbly ask that you respect this request.”

That was the second time he referred to you and your daughter and him, your little unit, as a family, and your chest was beginning to warm with the idea.

“While Ms. Y/L/N and I are not in a relationship, I refer to us as a family, because a family does not necessarily need to fit the traditional definition. My relationship with Ms. Y/L/N is professional and platonic in nature.” Unbidden, your heart sank at his words, despite the fact that nothing he said was untrue. “But that does not change the fact that she bore and has raised my child for the last eight years. Moving forward, we will be raising our daughter together, even though we are not ‘together.’” He held up his hands in air-quotes.

You could feel yourself dissociating the longer he talked, and you could tell his insistence on the platonic nature of your relationship would echo in your head for a long time to come, in a very unwelcome manner.

“I will not take questions, but my family and I will pose for photographs to accompany your stories,” Tony said. “This is to encourage you all not to seek further photography when my family and I are not posing for your benefit.” His tone as he completed his speech had a bite of warning to it.

Before, when he had referred to you all as a family, it had felt warm, it had felt right. Now, it just felt like mockery. You chastised yourself for feeling this way, but your heart was a traitor against your brain.

Amelie loved the attention of the photoshoot. She had adored the attention she got when she was dressed and made up and had her hair done, and now she was eating up the glamor of being in front of the cameras. She was a natural, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly at how well she was taking all of this.

All Tony could think as the three of you posed for photos in front of the step-and-repeat, was how he hoped that you liked his speech, and that he hadn’t ruined his chance with you.

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years ago

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In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Warnings: mentions of depression

Masterlist

Peaceful sleep came a little bit harder

Sweet dreams came a lot harder.

Your dreams followed the same regime every night. Thanos stepping on your chest, holding you down, as he snapped. You’d be defenseless under his massive body and were forced to watch Peter, Nat, Tony, and Venom turn to dust. It wasn’t even accurate to how the events really happened. And you knew that. You knew how Tony and Nat really died. And you knew Thanos was dead himself. But every night, you fell for it. You watched your loved ones die right before your eyes and believed it was really happening. Every night.

Every damn night.

So sleeping was no longer an option. You’d come back from your nightly patrol with Peter and go through your nighttime routine.

Wash off makeup.

Put on pajamas.

Talk about your day.

Go to bed.

Only you never really went to bed. You’d lie awake in Peters arms until he fell asleep. Then, you’d do a number of things. Sometimes you went back out as Venom to patrol. Sometimes you sat on the roof and contemplated the cards you’d been dealt. And sometimes, you’d cry. You’d cry and cry for what you lost. It wasn’t just the people you loved that had been taken from you, it was also those five years with Peter that he’d never get back. He was only gone for five hours. Nothing changed for him. He didn’t have to lead a completely different life. But everything changed for you. You were somewhat of a celebrity in New York. The L/N Report was the number one video news report in the city. Your business was blooming but it meant nothing to you. Accomplishments carried little to no value when you achieved them on your own. Peter wasn’t by your side for any award you’d won. He wasn’t there to read your front lining articles. He wasn’t there when you appeared on television or in magazines. And yes, that wasn’t his fault. You knew that. It was his fault at all. But no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you resented him. You resented him not being by your side, holding your hand, taking the journey with you. So, everyday, you repeated to yourself that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t leave on purpose. It became a mantra of sorts.

“It’s not his fault.” You’d tell yourself. “It wasn’t his fault.”

The worst part, Peter didn’t suspect a thing. He didn’t know about what you had to go through. He didn’t know how close you’d gotten to the Avengers. He didn’t know you moved in with Nat, only to have your home and relationship with her lost in a matter of minutes. He didn’t know about the months spent lying in bed, unable to cope. He didn’t about how your hair became so matted to your head from not having the will to wash it that you had to cut it off. He didn’t know how emaciated you became from not eating. He didn’t know how bad you smelled for not getting out of bed to shower. He didn’t know about the times you cried so hard you threw up. He didn’t know any of it. He only knew he turn to dust, woke up in a strange place, and went to battle. He was utterly unaffected by the snap.

Despite all the feelings you harbored, you didn’t speak of word of it to Peter. He had just lost his father figure in a gruesome way. He had to go back to school afterwards and pretend he wasn’t Spider-Man and didn’t just fight two huge battles. He had to pretend Tony was simply his boss and he didn’t watch him die in front of him. He was going through enough as it was. He didn’t need to hear about your hardships as well. And so, you kept your mouth shut and in a smile.

“It’s like it never happened.” Peter would chuckle to himself. Every time he said it, it felt like a dagger in your side.

Like it never happened.

Like you didn’t lose everything.

“Right. It never happened.” You’d agree. You give him a tight lipped smile and went on with yours days like Peter wanted.

Like it never happened.

Peter had to repeat his senior year, only rubbing salt in the wound that he was so much younger than you now. But his school had a Europe trip planned for before school started. You were slightly relieved to know you wouldn’t see him for a week.

“I don’t have to go. I can just stay home.” Peter told you, hoping you’d ask him to stay. He didn’t want to leave you, but both you and May thought this trip would be good for his stress.

“You’re going. Just as long as you promise to come back this time. And not as a pile of dust.” You teased Peter. He smiled despite feeling disappointed that you didn’t beg him to stay. He was fine staying home with you while his friends had fun. You were his whole world now. He needed you and looked to you for comfort. You’d spent every second with him since he came back. You practically lived with him and May. Days were spent in his bed or on the roof, talking about everything Peter missed. He’d tease you and say the only thing he missed was you, but you knew it wasn’t true. He’d missed a lot more than you’d ever admit.

A part of you wanted some time apart. The other half of you dreaded him leaving. The bigger half. The last time he left for a school trip, he didn’t come back. You were weary about letting him out of your sight again. Peter seemed to sense this fear of yours. He was just as weary about leaving you. He never wanted to be apart again. He’d even whine when you so much as left the bed to go to the bathroom. He was clingier than before. And he had a reason to be. Peter noticed things that you didn’t. He noticed men, not just boys, men staring at you now. You were 24 years old. A woman. You had matured and changed both inside and out. Your facial features had hardened and you lost all remaining traces of baby fat in your cheeks. Your cheekbones were sharper, your eyes more tired, and your hair much longer. You looked like a grown up. Peter, on the other hand, still looked like a teenager. He’d always looked young for his age, but it was even more noticeable when he was standing next to you. He still had pimples and a baby face. He was still just a kid. He wasn’t mature like you were. It made Peter feel funny. He didn’t like when men stared at you because he couldn’t help but wonder if you’d rather be with one of them. A man. Not a boy like himself. He brought these fears up to you.

“Peter.” You laughed dismissively. “Why would I want to be with anyone other than you? I had five years to go out and find a man but chose not to. I don’t care if men stare at me. I don’t even notice when they do. I only have eyes for you.” You cupped his chin and giggled at his fears.

“Well I notice. And I’m 18. Don’t you want to be with a man?” Peter said insecurely. He was afraid of asking, in fear of your answer, but not knowing kept him up at night. He was met with more laughter as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What’s your name again?” You asked coyly.

“What?” Peter asked, not getting where you were going with this.

“What’s your name? I need a reminder.” You said again. He was the one who need the reminder.

“Peter.” Peter answered. You shook your head.

“Not that name. Your other name.” You said.

“Spider-“ Peter began. He smiled, suddenly embarrassed, as he caught on to your game. You had a grin on your face.

“Man?” You asked, finishing his sentence. Peter nodded in defeat.

“Spider-Man.” He grumbled.

“That’s right. Not Spider-Boy. Not Spider-Guy. Spider-Man. You’re a man. And you’re my man. I don’t want to hear about this ever again, okay? I’m not gonna leave you for some random guy on the street. You have nothing to be worried about.” You kissed Peter sweetly. He smiled at you, but didn’t feel entirely better. Guys still stared. He couldn’t do anything to stop them. He felt powerless when you went to bars with your work friends, a place he was too young to enter. Though you’d never tell him, he knew guys would hit on you and offer to buy you drinks. He couldn’t do anything to stop them.

And so, you and Peter were hiding things from each other. For the first time since finding out the other’s secret identity, you were keeping things from each other. Peter hid his insecurities and you hid your doubts. But when you were together, you played the part of a happy couple. A couple that somehow found each other again after all the tragedy of the past five years. Neither of you knowing of the others pain.

You rolled over one morning and slowly woke up. Your eyes fluttered open and you were met with Peters doe brown ones staring you down intensely. He had a dreamy smile on his face, but his eyes said “I want to kill you and wear your skin.” You jumped back and Peter laughed. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face as you calmed down.

“Sorry.” He murmured, still dressed with a smile.

“You’re staring.” You pointed out. It was something he did a lot. You’d often wake up in the morning to find him watching you, as if you couldn’t take a breath unless he was watching you take it. It calmed Peter down to know you were real, safe, and his. So, he stared.

“It’s romantic.” He defended.

“It’s creepy.” You replied. Peter laughed and toyed with your fingers.

“You’re just so pretty.” He sighed. You couldn’t be mad at that.

“I don’t feel pretty. I feel like you’re gonna chop me with a machete.” You told him. He laughed again.

“I’d never chop you with a machete.” Peter told you. He pulled you closer and ran his fingers through your tangled hair.

“That’s something an evil choppy machete man would say.” You bartered. You laughed at yourself but it was cut short by Peter kissing you. You melted into his kiss. Every doubt, fear, and worry melted away too. He always had a way of reminding you why you stayed single those five years. Why you refused to move on. Why you convinced a man to invent time travel. Why you snapped. It for for him. Everything you did was for him. He was worth it. Peter was worth it.

“Hello?” You asked tentatively into the phone. An unknown number had called you early one morning. You heard a series of grumbling and awkward stutters on the other end of the line.

“Hello!” The voice boomed in a confident way. It got less confident as he went on, soon speaking barely above a whisper. “This is uh, this is Mr. Harrington. I mean, Roger. This is Roger. I teach school. I mean, I teach at school. Peters school. I science. No, um, I teach science. I teach science to Peter. Not just Peter, I have other students. At school. Is this Y/n?” The man rambled.

“Speaking.” You bit your tongue to suppress your laughter.

“As I’m sure you know, Peter and myself and 21 other students are going on a trip to Europe in a short amount of time.” Roger said. It sounded like he was reading from index cards. He was very stiff and definitely rehearsed.

“I’m aware.” You said slowly.

“Well as it turns out, two male teachers alone with 14 teenage girls isn’t sitting well with…anyone. We’ve had multiple complaints about not having a female teacher coming on the trip. Due to unfortunate circumstances that I am not legally allowed to repeat, I am legally not allowed to be alone with the majority female teachers in the school. As you might guess, this unfortunate issue can potentially lead to a series of conundrums that would jeopardize the safety of the children. Because you are an adult and well respected in the community due to your popular news report, The L/n Report, and are familiar with many of our students, you were suggested to come on the trip as a chaperone. Do you accept this offer?” Roger asked robotically. You thought over his offer. A week in Europe didn’t sound too bad. And you had been worried about not seeing Peter for that time. His offer was very inviting.

“I’m allowed to go even though I’m not faculty?” You asked.

“I also shared this concern and asked the principle. She said, and I quote, “who gives a-“ and then she proceeded to say an expletive that I do not feel comfortable repeating in the presence of a lady.” Roger said awkwardly. You were finding it harder and harder not to laugh at him.

“Do you mind if I talk to Peter first? You are aware that he and I are involved romantically, right? Won’t that be a conflict of interest?” You asked Roger. Surely a students girlfriend could never act as a chaperone.

“I am aware of your romantical involvement with Mr. Parker. Once again, I also had this concern. As long as you stay on the girls floor of the hotel and he stays on the boys floor, no one actually cares.” Roger answered. You were finding less and less reasons not to go.

“I’ll ask Peter about it. Thank you Roger.” You said politely. Roger chuckled.

“Please, call me Roger.” He said suavely.

“I…did.” You deadpanned.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Every time I practiced this with my mom, she called me Mr. Harrington at the end. I’ll talk to you soon, Y/n.” Roger said into the phone.

“Please, call me Y/n.” You joked.

“I did.” He said seriously, almost defensively.

“No I was…nevermind. I’ll call back soon.” You didn’t try to explain the joke to him. It was no use.

You hung up and went to find Peter to see what he thought.

“Hell yea I want you to come.” Peter cheered. He was overjoyed at the thought of the love of his life accompanying him on the trip of a lifetime. It eliminated his fears of leaving you at home. You were a little surprised at his reaction. You knew he loved you, but he had to get a little sick of you at one point right?

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.” You told him. Peter shook his head and pulled you onto his lap.

“You could never impose. You know that, baby.” Peter said softly. Your cupped your cheek and kissed the other. You habitability wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Then I better call Roger back and tell him I’m coming.” You said.

“Who’s Roger?” Peter said a little too quickly.

“Your science teacher.” You laughed.

“Mr. Harrington?” Peter asked. He never knew his first name. He never wanted too.

“I guess he and I are on a first name basis.” You shrugged sarcastically.

“I kind of hate the thought of you being on a first name basis with my science teacher.” Peter laughed at the thought.

“Oh, well. Sucks to suck.” You teased.

“Maybe so. I’m so relived you’re coming too. I didn’t want to leave you behind.” Peter admitted. You gave him a slight smile.

“Again.” You thought. “He didn’t want to leave me behind again.” Peter was thinking the same thing.

“This is kinda perfect. Now I don’t have to worry about Ned bringing you back in a little plastic sandwich bag.” You admitted your fears as well.

“I like to think Ned would have the decency to put me in an empty tube of chapstick.” Peter played along.

“All jokes aside, I’m glad for this too. I’ve had a hard time letting you out of my sights since The Snappening.” You confessed.

Peter groaned at your choice of words.

“It’s called The Blip.” He corrected you.

“It’s called The Blip by disgusting people who want to watch the world burn. The intellectuals call it The Snappening.” You flipped your hair behind your shoulder in a dramatic fashion.

“I guess my whole school wants to watch the world burn.” Peter shrugged. His school, specially the school news team, had coined the term The Blip.

“Then we better get you out of that school.” You kissed Peter cheek as he laughed.

You spent the rest of the day helping each other pack for the Europe trip. You called Roger back and told him you’d be delighted to chaperone. He was thrilled to hear you say yes and informed you that his mother always said no.

You washed your face that night and looked in the mirror. You studied your reflection. You didn’t look too much older, but enough to notice that you were no longer Peters age. If he noticed, he never mentioned it.

“This will be good for us.” You said in your head so only Venom could hear.

“Are you telling us or asking us?” Venom asked. She could sense your hesitation.

“Telling.” You said quickly. “I am telling you that this trip will be good for me and Peter.”

“We believe you. But do you believe you?” Venom asked again. You stared at your reflection until tears welled up in your eyes.

“Yes.” You said finally. And you meant it. Doctor Strange told you that you and Peter were soulmates. You had to believe him.

You had to.

Your eyes wondered to the flower you kept in a bowl of water on a shelf in the bathroom. You kept it there so you could see it every morning and night. It’s green and black petals glistened in the dim light of Peters bathroom. You had told him it was from Asgard, which is was, but you didn’t tell him it was from Loki. He knew nothing of that day in Asgard. The Time Heist, Thor’s breakdown, the Aether, the kiss. And he wasn’t going to know. Peter didn’t have to know everything you did while he was gone. He just had to know you still loved him now that he was back. And you did.

You did

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455 notes · View notes

ryfionline · 2 years ago

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merakiaes · 5 years ago

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Clocks And Numbers - Tony Stark

Pairing: Tony Stark x reader

Requested: By @its-the-tear-in-my-heart

Warnings/notes: Everyone’s dyscalculia is different from the other’s, so I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you where looking for. I wrote this out of my own experiences and difficulties. I really hope you like it!

Wordcount: 2716

Summary: You have dyscalculia, which is a kind of learning issue that makes it hard to understand concepts related to numbers. Tony, being the sweetheart he is, tries his best to support and encourage you!

You knew something was off when you first started school and started getting taught how to read the analog clock. While most of the kids your age had learnt it by heart two weeks into it, you were still stuck in a corner struggling to differ the number three from the number eight. So it was safe to say you could not even begin to understand a circle with twelve numbers and a countless of combinations.

Your parents and teachers just blamed it on math anxiety, they told you that only if you wanted to, you could do it. You just had to put your mind to it, right? Right.

It wasn’t until you got sent home with your first math homework that your parents understood that you needed extra help. This wasn’t just anxiety. They could see so clearly on your face that you, in fact, didn’t understand a fucking thing of the things written on the paper in front of you.

But it took more than a pair of insistent parents to convince the school of getting you extra help. So you struggled. For years, you struggled to get through the different grades. At one point, you just stopped going to math class, resulting in getting failed every year.

Not that it mattered if you went there, anyways. Every time you looked into your assigned math book, the numbers seemed to come alive, switching places and turning left and right and hanging upside down. It was impossible to read.

Now, in your other classes, like English, Biology and Theatre, you got praised constantly. Reading was one of your biggest passions. You had gone through school with straight A’s in English. But when reading a math problem, you couldn’t even read the letters. The number completely and utterly screwed them up.

You could count addition and subtraction without too much trouble seeing as you learned them with hands-on props and they were reinforced from toddlerhood throughout your entire childhood. It took a long time to learn, but you got a hand of it, eventually.

But multiplication, division and fractions were practically impossible. You didn’t understand quantities, you couldn’t sort fractions from smallest to biggest. You couldn’t estimate numbers, you couldn’t count backwards. Not remember basic facts, and it was practically impossible for you to learn and perform calculations.

You couldn’t count in your head, always relying on counting with your fingers, which of course, made it a nightmare for you when you got called up by a teacher to solve a problem on the board. Almost every time, it ended up with said teacher losing their patience and yelling out something in the likes of “Oh, for God’s sake. It’s not even that hard, everyone else can do it. You need to study harder!”

Study harder. You wished it was that easy.

Not until you were fourteen did the school finally realize that you needed extra help and resources to be able to graduate high school. However, to do that, you needed to re-take all of the previous math classes you had failed in, which in turn resulted in her having to read more than double the amount of math than your peers during the rest of your time in high school.

It was hell, but you got through it, and graduated. But your problems with math didn’t end with school.

When you turned twenty, you had finally settled down enough for yourself to be able to get your own apartment and move out of your parents’ house. But even then, math haunted you; apparently, paying your own bills was an important thing to be able to do when living alone.

You got through two weeks until you had to call your parents for money after miscalculating the amount of money in your bank account and buying a non-refundable bag when mistakenly thinking you could afford it.

Spoiler alert, you had done the calculations all wrong and entirely overestimated the amount of money you would have left after paying your bills. So, long story short, your parents had to lend you money in order for you to be able to pay your electrical bill. And after that fiasco, and after paying them back, of course, your mother had taken over the billing.

Now you were twenty-five. Your mom no longer took care of your bills, but that was just because Tony took over for her when you moved into the Avengers Tower. You avoided math as much as you possibly could.

You never went to the store alone, not being able to keep track of bills and change and getting anxious to the point where you felt you were about to faint when having to hand the cashier the right amount of money.

You didn’t cook, as you always misread the numbers in the ingredient measurements. You couldn’t handle anything in the likes of budgets or finances. Still at this age, you didn’t have a single multiplication table memorized. You could never trust yourself enough to write out numbers by hand, chances being high that you would accidentally write a three instead of a four, or a one instead of a ten. You couldn’t even look at a Rubik’s cube, and time zones baffled you to no end.

And your hands, man, there were two of them. Left and right. Which was which, again? You still, to this day, hadn’t learnt your lefts and rights. If you wanted to give someone directions, you had to look down on your hands and think about which one was your dominant to be able to figure out if you wanted to tell the person left or right as a direction.

You couldn’t plan to save your life, which caused you to go about your days minute by minute, taking them as they came. But, realistically, as a known given, you did understand that, sometimes, making plans and being on time was crucial.

At times like these, you had your phone notify you several times. And every time, you had to check, double check, reassure yourself, and check again, to make sure you had the time correct.

Why? One might ask. Well, because you still hadn’t learnt to read a fucking clock. And this was the exact source of your frustration on this very Thursday morning.

Peter Parker had waltzed in in his pajamas a while ago, how long ago exactly you didn’t know. How could you? He asked you for the time seeing as you were face to face with the clock on the kitchen wall, the very wall he was behind.

He was new to the tower, so he couldn’t have known not to ask you for the time.

You had kindly explained the situation to him, and he had instantly started apologizing. After spending at least five minutes assuring him that it was fine, he had left for school, and you were left alone at last.

You had stared at the clock, annoyed beyond words as you picked on your scrambled eggs. The rest of the team members were either out on a mission, or still sleeping. Sighing, you had finally pushed your chair back and walked across the room, reaching up on your tippy toes to take the clock down from the wall.

Bringing it back with you to your seat, you had sat yourself down again, putting the clock in front of you on the surface and positioning your body so that you could see it better.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, just staring at the clock and trying to piece together the clock pointers with the different numbers. You couldn’t even differ the minute pointer from the hour pointer.

But before you knew it, you were crying and flinging the poor, innocent clock across the room, the clear plastic at the front cracking and shattering onto the marble floors. You groaned in frustration, your hands coming to pull at your hair as you leant back into your chair.

“Good morning.” A voice suddenly came from somewhere else in the room, startling you. You turned your head to the hallway leading to all the bedrooms, watching as Tony casually strolled into the kitchen quarters, hand motioning to the broken watch on the floor. “What did that clock ever do to you?”

You didn’t answer, only grabbing your fork and moving it about in your, now cold, eggs. As Tony got closer, he noticed the wet streaks adorning your slightly puffy cheeks. Instantly realizing his mistake, Tony came up to your side.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about it.” He apologized gently, carefully moving to touch her shoulder as an act of comfort.

You shook your head. “It’s fine, I’m just really tired.” You sighed, your hand coming to rest on top of his, squeezing his fingers with your own.

Tony knew more than well what a hard time you had when it came to numbers, and despite being his cocky, boastful, genius self, he never once judged you for it, always offering you the support and encouragement you needed to stop feeling sad.

You looked up to meet his eyes, gentle as ever as he stared down at you with an equally as gentle smile. His hand came up to touch your cheek gingerly. “You know it’s not because you’re dumb, right?” He mumbled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Your heart swelled at the absolutely sincere and deep gaze he was giving you, your entire body getting warm at the fact that he was able to read you like an open book, being able to tell exactly what you were thinking just with a glance at your face.

He knew your struggle with the numbers made you feel like an idiot many of the times; he probably knew you better than you did yourself. And he always knew how to make it better, just by looking at you.

“It feels like it. Which twenty-five year old doesn’t know how to read an analog clock?” You muttered, leaning into his chest as he moved closer behind you.

You could just picture him raising his eyebrows in thought at your words, his hand moving from your shoulder so that he could wrap his arms around you. “A lot of them. You’re not alone, (Y/N). You’re not stupid, or mentally challenged. You just need a little extra time to learn, alright?”

You didn’t answer, instead just taking in what he was saying. You knew he was right, but you still felt stupid. Noticing you weren’t going to answer, Tony left you at the kitchen island briefly to walk across the room towards the clock, picking up the broken piece of plastic and bringing it back over.

He put it on the surface in front of you, before leaving the room, coming back only seconds later with a roll of bright pink tape, a notepad, and a ballpoint pen in his hand.

“Here.” He took a seat next to you and pulled the clock closer to himself, breaking off the rest of the broken plastic on the front of it and grabbing the tape, pulling out a long stripe. He began wrapping it around one of the pointers, until it was fully covered, and then bent his head down to cut it off with his teeth.

You watched him while he did whatever it was that he was doing, and once he was done, he pushed the clock closer to the middle where you would both be able to see it clearly, before grabbing the small notepad and pen and putting them in front of you.

“The pink pointer is the minute pointer, and the black one is the hour pointer.” He explained as you carefully moved to grab the pen. “Now, you know in which order you write the hour and minute in digital clock, right?” He looked to you for confirmation.

You nodded. “The hour goes first, and the minutes go after.”

“Right.” He confirmed with a nod of his own. “Okay, so the black pointer shows what hour it is. And the pink one shows what minute it is. Now, if you were to write down the respective numbers, the hour first and minute second, what would you get?”

“Uh…” You thought to yourself, eyes moving over the clock in concentration. Frowning, you spoke. “The black one isn’t at any of the numbers.”

Tony only hummed. “If it’s not at any exact number, you pick the number the pointer went past last. So, if you look at the black pointer now, it’s between the nine and the ten. What number do you pick in this situation? What’s the hour?”

You let your eyes glance between the nine and the ten a few times, the frown on your face deepening, still not sure of how It worked. “Nine?”

“Yes!” He clapped his hands together before pointing at the pink pointer. “And what’s the minute?”

Shifting your gaze from the black pointer to the pink, the smile that had come to rest on your lips briefly at Tony’s praise, fell once again. “There’s only twelve numbers, and there’s sixty minutes in an hour.”

You slumped in your seat, and let your eyes fall shut as they were aching from the amount of time you had been staring at the damned clock. Noticing your exhaustion, Tony pushed the clock and notepad away, grabbing the pen out of your hand and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you up with him as he stood.

“Alright, that’s enough numbers for today.” He reassured you, starting to steer you out of the room, you following behind without asking any questions and just easing into his side. “How about we take a bath?”

You didn’t answer, tired and irritated. You just mumbled out an agreement and let him steer you out of the room and towards your shared bedroom.

The next day, you were up bright and early like the day before, catching the rest of the team all gathered in the kitchen, probably getting ready to go out on another mission. Something was different this morning, though.

Something you noticed, courtesy for your absolute hatred for analog clocks, was that you always picked up on their ticking sound. No matter how far away the clock in question was, or how much noise that surrounded you, you always heard it.

But not this morning. The only thing you could hear was the quiet chatter of your friends and colleges as you pattered into the kitchen area, along with the all too familiar sound of the brewing coffeepot.

And your suspicion of your greatest enemy having gone missing proved to be very true once you looked around the room and noticed that all three of the kitchen’s clocks, including the one you had broken the morning before, had been replaced with digital clocks.

You couldn’t contain the warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling up in the entirety of your body at the sight, and you wasted no time in walking over to Tony where he was sitting at the kitchen table with Steve and Rhodey at each side of him.

When he noticed you approaching, Tony instantly pushed his chair back just enough for you to slide into his lap. Taking him slightly by surprise, as you were usually not one for PDA, you took ahold of his face and pressed your lips to his in a long and hard kiss without speaking a single word, right in front of the other Avengers.

When you pulled away, you could see that he was confused, but visibly pleased, nonetheless. “What was that for?” He asked you quietly as he pulled you closer, a fond smile resting on his coffee-stained lips and crinkling at the corners of his still sleep ridden eyes.

You only smiled at him, keeping both of your hands on his cheeks and leaning your forehead against his. “Thank you.” Was all that you said, and all that was needed for him to understand.

His face lit up into an adorable smile, realization flashing through his eyes. “You’re welcome.” He nodded, and with that, he leant in to kiss you once more, not wanting to waste this grand opportunity of a breakfast make out.

#marvel one shot #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers one shot #avengers #tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark imagine #tony stark one shot

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parkneroses · 5 years ago

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parkner week day 2! it’s a day late (a day and four hours in my time zone but i’m pretending i’m american so i don’t seem like a crazy person writing until 4am)

major thanks again to @emptycanoflizards who gave me lots of lovely (ᵘⁿᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉᵈ) compliments on my day 1 fic and everyone else who said something nice about it!! thank you for the motivation to actually write this <3

word count: 2.1k | if you enjoy this, buy me a coffee? | read it on ao3

day 2: they were roommates/prom/jealousy

This was a nightmare. Both a personal one- Tony really wasn’t a fan of aliens, for obvious reasons- and a PR one. How the hell was he supposed to explain why these.. these butter monsters were completely unaffected by the abundant security measures around Avengers Tower? How was he supposed to predict that there were creatures in the universe that could just melt, and resolidify at will? How was he supposed to blow them to bits with drones if they just fused back together like some kind of nightmarish oil-based hydra? (the monster, not the organisation.)

Fire seemed to be the only thing capable of keeping them at bay, which was horribly inconvenient seeing as there were only two avengers capable of harnessing that element, and Rhodey was in fucking DC. And he definitely wasn’t about to let Peter start swinging around the top floors of the tower with a homemade flamethrower, no matter how much the kid insisted.

“Tony?” Captain America’s voice came through the comms.

“Busy,” Tony replied. Cap knew that of course, he could see the tiny flashes of light in the dark sky that was Tony in the Iron Man suit whizzing around and burning the monsters to a crisp eight hundred feet above him.

“Tony. We can’t do damage to the aliens on ground level. Civilians have been evacuated and the tower is on lockdown. The aliens don’t seem to be capable of range damage, they need to engulf someone to actually hurt them. They seem adamant on attacking the tower, nothing else is sparking their interest, and they’re not smart enough to go attacking civilians to get our attention. I say we go inside, look over our options. You can’t kill them all yourself.”

Tony wasn't in favour of leaving his tower to get soaked in… alien guts? No, butter. Thinking of it as butter made it slightly more tolerable. Who would want their home and workplace to smell like a two-star diner? Not Tony, that’s for sure, but something about how Cap’s usually stoic, unwavering tone was peppered with grunts and wheezes made him reconsider. Coney Island fair scented tower it was, then. He signalled to Friday to open up the second floor windows so the Avengers could climb in, and flew through behind them into a conference room.

Natasha’s usually pristine hair was soaked through with the butter. Tony got the impression that she’d nearly been taken out, if her sigh of relief was at all telling. Bruce looked slightly green, but that might have been the bluish tint of his tired skin mixing with the yellow liquid to look a sickly vomit colour. Steve and Bucky had splatters of the goop in random places on their gear, but they were mostly clean. True professionals, those two. Sam and Clint, who had been in charge of evac, were chilling on the couch. They had finished their jobs almost an hour ago, content to leave the heavy lifting to the rest of the team for once. Steve was the first to speak.

“It’s late. They’re not going anywhere. Break for the night. Recuperate, and at be geared up at seven in the morning to go back out and finish them off.”

Steve was the boss, so Tony didn’t protest.

In Tony’s defense, he never meant for the tower to actually house people. Sure, there were a couple spare bedrooms on his personal floor, and the Avengers’ rooms on the floor below his, but that was kind of it. The granite and marble floors, glass tables and concrete desks were picked for their sleek and minimalist style, not their comfort. Although it was nearing midnight, there were still a couple hundred people in the tower. Mostly due to night shifts, but there were always a couple of late-night stragglers, usually employees that couldn’t keep their mitts off their ultra exciting projects. Plus twenty or so S.H.I.E.L.D agents. And Nick Fury of course, because if there was a god in this cruel world, he was intent on making Tony suffer.

Pepper had been a dream in sorting out beds for the lockdown prisoners. Scientists who were used to long nights and sleeping in uncomfortable places curled up in the padded chairs of the desk jockeys, who in turn rested their sore spines in the nap holes scattered around the labs. There were spare blankets in the donation bins on the ground floor, so the security guards that weren’t on the job made beds on the floor of the lobby. Pepper was his saviour. And for that, Tony owed her.

“I’m not dealing with the S.H.I.E.L.D agents. I’ve done my part, and quite frankly I’m exhausted from a full day of running your company. It’s your turn now,” Pepper said, shrugging off her jacket and making her way to the elevator.

Tony turned to the Avengers.

“You guys down to share rooms?” He asked. That earned him a smile and a small nod from both Steve and Bucky, but glares from the rest of the team, and a tasteful, “Oh, hell no,” from Sam.

Tony huffed and pulled a chair out from the conference table. He slumped in it (there was a time and a place for impeccable posture, and this wasn’t it), and pulled up a map of the upper floors of the tower with help from Friday.

“Okay,” Tony muttered under his breath. “Twenty S.H.I.E.L.D agents, and seven spare rooms on my floor, plus Capsicle’s on the team floor, and couches. Twenty S.H.I.E.L.D agents, and eight bed spaces. Two per room, and two per couch. Friday, assign rooms based on personality and filter for lowest chance of conflict. Direct all S.H.I.E.L.D agents to their rooms.”

Tony was surprised at how easy that had been. Maybe he was actually capable of doing things without Pepper! Who knew?

The celebrations could wait until the morning. For now, Tony needed his beauty sleep. Early mornings were a bitch to his skin. He couldn’t imagine the butter was helping with that.

Of course, all good things had to end eventually.

Someone was knocking on his door. Tony didn’t like it when people wanted his attention during sleepy-hours. He laid his head back down on the pillow and felt his eyes slip closed.

But the knocking wouldn’t stop.

“Boss. Your door.” Friday reminded him. Tony sat up with a groan.

“Yes, Friday, I got that. Who is it?”

“Harley Keener is knocking on your door, sir. Would you like me to open it?” Friday asked. Tony’s eyes went wide. Of course he thought designating rooms was easy, he had fucked it up. And wasn’t that just how everything in his life went?

At Tony’s hurried request, the door swung open to reveal a lanky, six-foot-something boy wearing nothing but his Hello Kitty pajama pants, death-gripping the pillow in his arms.

“To-ny,” Harley slurred, his voice heavy and deep with lethargy. “There’s people in m’ room.”

Pepper tutted from where she lay at Tony’s side. With a dramatic sigh, he heaved himself out of bed to sort out yet another problem. If he wasn’t a billionaire, Tony would probably never stop complaining about how he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit. So what if he forgot the kid was staying over? He’d only been here a day and Tony had spent most of that day saving the world from oleaginous potential overlords. It wasn’t his fault.

Except it was, and that meant he had to help. He gently guided the kid by his shoulder back to the room he was meant to be staying in. It was the nicest guest room in the penthouse, specially decorated for Harley (not that the kid knew it), with sky blue walls and plants on every surface to remind him of home. And in the middle of it, sitting cross legged on the king sized bed with a hand full of Uno cards each, were Nick Fury and Maria Hill.

So much for getting Harley his room back.

Tony frowned and shut the door gently. Desperate times, he reasoned.

“Do you mind sharing a room with someone? Promise it’s only for one night.” He asked.

“S’long as the room has a bed in it, I’on’ care,” Harley mumbled, releasing his vice grip on the pillow for a second to rub aggressively at his eyes. Tony let his shoulders drop in relief and directed him the other way down the hall. He had been meaning to introduce his chil- no, his mentees eventually, and this seemed as good a time as any.

Harley stood fixed to the ground in shock next to Tony as the man explained the situation to the other kid- no, the angel sitting on the queen sized bed in the middle of the room. He had what looked to be a Physics textbook open on his lap in front of him, and Harley thought he heard the angel mutter something like, “Flamethrowers are dangerous, Peter. You could get hurt. Look where playing it safe got you. I couldn’t do my homework ‘cause I was too stressed and you- you smell like bad movie popcorn and guts,’ under his breath when Tony stopped talking

Harley gently lifted Tony’s hand off his shoulder and turned to face him.

“Go. I’m good here,” Harley said softly. Tony shrugged at him, and threw a strained smile at Peter that Harley roughly translated to, “Be on your best behaviour or we’ll be talking about this later.” He was well acquainted with that particular look.

Harley brushed it off and went to sit on the bed. He stuck his hand out to shake Peter’s.

“How do ‘ya do?,” He asked, his accent laying thick in the back of his throat. Peter shook his hand with a surprisingly strong grip, and his cheeks flushed a colour that reminded Harley of the baby pink irises that grew in his backyard back home.

“Good. Name’s Peter. Parker.”

“Nice to meet you, Peter. Parker. What’re you up to?” Harley flashed his most charming make-old-ladies-swoon smile, and Peter chuckled.

Harley felt himself relax. Peter’s laugh felt like a cold drink on a hot summer’s day, cooling him down on the inside while his face grew warm. It was light, and refreshing, and... he had missed the answer to his question.

“What was that, darlin’?”

Peter’s blush grew darker, and he squirmed for a second until he realised what he was doing and stopped abruptly.

“Physics homework. It’s boring, and it sucks. D’you wanna watch a movie or something instead?”

God, his voice was just as pretty as his laugh. Everything about Peter was pretty. He had really fluffy bed-head that reminded Harley of a pom pom, that he just wanted so badly to run his fingers through, and Harley could feel the blood in his cheeks heat himself up enough that he could just melt into Peter’s chocolate river eyes.

Harley was staring, and clearly Peter got the wrong idea.

“Or, or we could just go to bed, if you wanna, I just thought since it’s not that late-”

Harley’s eyebrows furrowed, and Peter’s sentence trailed off. They stared into each other's eyes for what felt like ten minutes, though it couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds. Harley imagined being engulfed by liquid bronze as he tried to swim in the thick swirls of brown and gold in Peter’s irises.

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, and mumbled,

“Yeah, movie sounds great. What’ve you got?”

Peter smiled at him and pulled up the covers so Harley could get in properly. He pushed himself up against the headboard, arranging cushions behind him to support his back during the movie.

“Already got one open,” Peter said, scooching up next to Harley under the covers and laying his laptop between them. “It’s a classic.”

Harley smiled as the opening credits of Clueless began to play. Peter had great taste.

“Morning, lovebirds,” Tony said gleefully.

Harley groaned and grabbed his pillow tighter, pulling it flush to his chest and burying his face in it to shield himself from the light.

Except, the thing in his arms was something much harder than a pillow, and the scent of chemical coconut filling his lungs was definitely of a shampoo.

His sentient pillow groaned, pulling him closer and mumbled, “Five more minutes, Miss’r Stark.”

“No can do. Aliens are dead, and Clint made breakfast!” Tony’s jubilant tone didn’t falter. Harley raised an eyebrow at the man.

“What’d he make?” Harley asked sceptically. He hadn’t met the Avengers many times, but even he knew not to trust Clint’s cooking.

“Butter croissants!”

Harley stiffened, and Peter let a puff of breath that warmed Harley’s chest and mumbled,

“Oh, hell no.”

#you can pry harley keener in hello kitty pajama pants out of my cold dead hands #someone draw it pleeease #ill love you endlessly #sorry my writing is so static today?#i drank a lot of coffee and didnt edit #i probably will eventually dont worry #its 4:45am im gonna post on ao3 and SLEEP #parkner #parkner week 2019 #parkner week #keenker #potatowebs #mcu #parkner fic #parley #spiderlad

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hyungbean · 6 years ago

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Badass | Tony Stark

Profanity Ahead!

Prompt: Hey, I was wondering if I could have a tony x reader where Reader is friends with tony and there was subtle flirting. She is secretly a shield agent or secretly has some awesome badass powers which she keeps hidden so she wouldn’t be made fun of or loose anyone close to her. Something happens that makes her use it to help the team during a fight and tony finds out. They get into an argument that ends with them admitting feelings. Can’t wait to see what you write. Thank you!

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Genre: Fluff, “Humor”

As far as Tony was concerned, you were just his personal assistant—whom he was very, very interested in.

The feeling was mutual so it wasn’t bad at all.

To SHIELD though, you were one of their top enhanced agents. You’re not sure how exactly you went from secret missions in Norway to being a personal assistant for a cocky man with too much money on his hands.

It just happened. One day you went over to the Avengers Tower to hang out with Clint and Natasha, long time friends of yours, and boom.

Everyone there besides them thought you were just an old friend who was just a normal civilian.

Shocking.

Tony had offered you a job and you needed some extra cash anyway, so you accepted.

Although it didn’t really feel like a job (aside from having to do his laundry and pick up groceries for the Avengers of course) because Tony became a close friend of yours.

You didn’t see anything weird about it, but in Clint’s words there was so much “sexual tension” in the air whenever we were in a room together.

Today was not an exception.

Strolling into the kitchen in your pajamas, you went to pour yourself cereal, when Tony walked in.

“Hey Toe-Nail you have a conference with Fury in the afternoon.” I mumbled while shoveling spoons of cereal into my mouth.

“Thank you Sparkles—“ Tony said winking at me before gasping and snapping his fingers “— oh! And also can you pick up some waffles and jam from the grocery store today?”

“Yeah no problem Stank.”

Tony looks offended, giving me the hand and walking away with his breakfast.

I sit on the counter and finish my cereal quickly, although before I can wash my bowl, I hear several fake coughs.

As I look up I see Clint and Steve sending me raised eyebrows.

“What?” I feign confusion although I know too well what they’re going to say

“That was nauseating.” Clint said, shuddering while reading his newspaper.

“Yeah. I mean I’m not one to say anything but, you should just go for it. You both obviously like each other.” Steve agreed, sipping his coffee.

“I have no clue what you’re on about, now— I must go get ready.”

As you bounced out of the kitchen, Clint and Steve looked at each other for a few moments before rolling their eyes and getting back to their business.

It’s been a few hours and you’ve been at the grocery store for about way too long, and you still couldn’t decide between peanut butter, jelly or Nutella—so instead you just swiped all of them into your cart.

I mean it was going on Tony’s card anyway, he could buy out this whole company and not make a dent in his bank account.

While checking out, you gave them Tony’s card which they suspiciously eyed you for.

On the way towards the car you realized how much you actually bought and dreaded having to carry all of it.

When you arrived at the tower, Happy was nowhere in sight and your training had not prepared you for twenty bags of fresh produce and processed bread-spread.

As you maneuvered into the elevator, you leaned back on the railing and let out a sigh of relief.

You blew loose strands of hair away from your eyes, rubbing your back.

After a few moments, you reached the common floor where everyone would be, and dragged all the bags out.

“Hey Stupid and Friends I’m ho— AH WHAT THE FUCK!” My tired state was suddenly snapped into alarm as a vase was flung across the floor and landed at your feet.

You heard more movement and what sounded like fighting in the kitchen.

As you ran into the kitchen you saw a man attacking Tony. Without a second thought you telepathically picked up a kitchen knife and threw the knife into the man’s thigh.

Before he could fall, he dissipated in a flurry of buzzes, the knife falling smack down on the floor.

Holograms?

“Woah cowgirl. Calm down. We were just testing out the new training tools.” You turn around to see Clint with his hands up and the rest of the Avengers with their jaws on the floor.

“Wha-“ before you could ask why they looked so shocked, you felt a body slam into yours, nearly knocking you to the floor.

“CUPCAKE THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME. Wait. WAIT. WAITWAIT.— YOU HAVE POWERS? HOW LONG HAS THAT BEEN GOING ON?” Tony shrieked at you , shaking your shoulders.

Your world became blurry as everything shook around you, Tony’s distorted excited face the only thing you could see.

“Calm down Stark! And I’ve always had powers.”

Steve walked in front of Clint with a severely adorable confused face, “wait did you just pull a Sharon on all of us?”

“Who the hell is Sharon?” I asked, squinting at the super soldier.

“No one— but seriously Y/N? All this time... and you didn’t bother to tell us—tell me?!” Tony asked, quickly turning salty as he narrows his eyes at you.

He crosses his arm like a child, and raises his nose in the air.

“Actually about that—“ I laughed nervously, rubbing my neck “—Clint and Nat already knew. Clint recruited me into SHIELD and I’ve been training with Nat for as long as I can remember...” I trailed off as Tony looked even more upset.

“ So. This WHOLE time.. you’ve been some badass agent. And you didn’t tell the rest of us??”

You could hear everyone protesting in the background in groans.

“I’m sorry Tony, but I liked that you were intrigued by me because of who I was and not because of my status.”

Everything stills for a moment.

Tony sighs, rubbing his eyes before pulling me into a hug, “you’re lucky I love you.” He mumbled.

“Love you too sweetheart.” I replied cheekily, kissing his cheek.

“What just happened. Please don’t start making out.” Sam whisper-prayed to no one in particular.

“Barf! Please stop! Steven’s virgin ears can’t handle this.” Bucky exaggerated, covering the super soldier’s ears.

We all laugh as Steve punches Bucky in the arm, nearly launching him into the cabinets.

Tony pulls me to his side, kissing my forehead, “finally. This took way too long...”

“NO YOU DIDN’T-“ the laughter is cut short by a surprised Nat who just stumbled into the kitchen, “—YOU CONFESSED DIDNT YOU?”

My eyes widen and I nod slightly, as Tony pulls me into him, chest to chest.

“That we did Romanoff. Now excuse you guys, move your asses out of my kitchen. I must make up for lost time with my angel face.”

Before I could react, he attaches his lips to mine, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly.

I chuckle into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck.

The rest of the Avengers yell in protest, before promptly running out the kitchen like the kids they were.

“OH MY GOD. PLEASE NO. I LIED GOD. This is worse than before!”

“YO HOLD UP— IS THAT NUTELLA?—“

#avengers #avengers imagine #avengers fluff #the avengers #tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark fluff #tony stark imagines #clint barton #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #bucky barnes #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #rhodey #the avengers imagines #fluff #i love you 3000

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pietromaxi · 6 years ago

Text

socks and candles

i cant find the request for this one but it was about nat getting gifts for everyone

summary: natasha romanoff is pretty bad at picking out presents, but she’s a lean, mean, pancake making machine in the kitchen.

warning: absolutely none. teeth rotting fluff

——

natasha romanoff was many things. she was strong, beautiful, loyal, and most importantly, she was a great friend.

but she had one wicked flaw. she was absolute shit at picking out christmas presents. she knew her friends so well, but at the same time, she didn’t know them well enough!

all through the compound, not an avenger was stirring.

scilence fell over the entire compound as snow was falling outside, the crackling fire had went out hours ago when Y/N extinguished it.

nat has just gotten back from a solo mission she was sent on by nick fury. christmas day was tomorrow and she was freaking out, to say the least. she knew nobody would be upset when they didn’t receive a present from her, but she couldn’t not get anyone anything when they had all gotten her something.

if anything, she knew they all might be a little mad that she got them something, “natasha romanoff! you were on a mission! you didn’t have to get us anything!” Y/N would scream at her.

natasha sighed and pulled a light blue hoodie out of her bag. she’d gotten it for Y/N when she was in california for that mission. Y/N had always wanted to go to california but could never make it.

one avenger down, several more to go.

natasha had some eyeshadow pallets she’d never used before hidden under her bed, perfect for wanda.

and then it hit her, under her bed!

last christmas she and all the avengers were on a mission during christmas, none of them made it back together in time to share christmas presents, so natasha saved them for upcoming birthdays. but she’d forgotten all about them.

she rushed to the elevator and bolted out the second the doors opened, she tip-toed past all the bedrooms and slid into her own room.

she slid a large bin out from under her bed and her eyes went wide.

natasha was so bad at picking out gifts.

inside the box was around 12 candles, all of different scents and colors. she had to plug her nose as she dug through the box, praying she found some salvageable stuff.

she felt something soft under her fingers and she sighed, socks.

she picked all the candles up from the box and placed them on the floor. 8 pairs of mismatched socks sat limply at the bottom of the box. fuzzy pink pigs and mermaid pugs stared at her, taunting her.

she huffed and slammed the top back on the box, if she couldn’t buy them anything nice she would just have to make something nice.

she tip-toed past all the avenger bedrooms once more and made her way to the kitchen, quietly asking friday if she could stay quiet about her whereabouts.

natasha checked the clock and her eyes shot to the roof when she realized it was 5:49.

she knew they would all be awake at any moment.

she quickly asked friday to stall them if they woke up while she made pancake after pancake, waffle after waffle, biscuit after biscuit.

she made all kinds of sausage, bacon, and eggs for her hungry friends. several stacks of waffles and pancakes sat on the island in the kitchen. toppings for the pancakes and waffles were lined up behind the stacks, waiting for the avengers to dig in. all the other food went onto large plates or into large bowls, so the avengers could pick and scoop as they pleased.

nat brewed coffee in all three of the coffee makers, she placed all the coffee mugs on the counter and filled up some glasses of juice for Y/N and steve because she knew how much they liked their orange juice.

she stepped back and took a look at her work, almost done.

now she needed everyone to wake up.

she knew it might not have been a new watch, or a car, or even some makeup. but nat knew they would love it. and for that, she was more than glad to miss out on a good nights sleep.

she stood in the kitchen admiring her work when she heard loud giggles erupt from upstairs. Y/N.

she was always the first to wake up, she would go to every avengers door and knock loudly screaming “it’s christmas morning! wake up!”

she used to get groans and protests, but everyone decided to let her have it. she was like a kid in a candy shop.

natasha decided she would give you your present separately so no one felt left out. she heard steve laugh loudly along with you and assumed he picked you up on his shoulders when you yelled, “stevie! put me down!”

before she knew it, the brightest smile etched its way onto her face. her eyes twinkled in the dim lighting. she couldn’t wait for them to see this.

“hey do you guys smell that? something smells really good!”

“oh that would be me, new cologne,” everyone barked out loud laughs when tony bowed in front of them, “thank you, thank you. it’s calvin klein’s eternity for men.”

when natasha could hear sock-clad feet padding their way over to the door, she sucked in a breath and hoped you all would like it.

the first person she saw was you and immediately the lights flickered to life and christmas music began playing lightly.

steve, bucky, and sam followed, gasping as they took everything in.

clint, wanda, vision, tony, and bruce piled into the kitchen after them and laughed in shock.

“merry christmas” natasha smiled and held out her hands, “i know it’s not fancy or anything. but everyone likes pancakes.”

everyone began talking at once,

“nat this is amazing!”

“holy shit! i didn’t know you had it in ya!”

“looks great, nat!”

“how long did this take?”

she held her hands out in front of her and smiled, shaking her head, “food first, questions later.”

“yes ma’am, can’t argue with that!” clint saluted natasha and everyone began piling food on their plates and grabbing their designated coffee mugs.

nat looked around as she watched everyone together in their christmas pajamas tony had bought them, eating the food she made for them. everyone was talking and laughing, Y/N had already spilt her orange juice and bucky was helping her clean it up, laughing harder than she’d ever seen. this was her family.

and for the first time

she knew she was home.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bruce banner #hulk #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #vision #tony stark #iron man #the avengers x reader #marvels the avengers #marvel #avengers x reader #natasha romanoff x you

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