#Dinner Oslo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cowgurrrl · 9 months ago

Text

Sleeping on the Blacktop

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)

Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??

Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks.

It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones.

When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her.

"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."

"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.

"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look.

"Talking?"

"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."

"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.

"So you and Joel did talk."

"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."

"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."

"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?"

"Nothing that could actually turn into anything."

"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."

"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.

"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden.

"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane."

"It's annoying, right?"

"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."

"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care.

"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan.

"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."

"All the more reason to buy some."

"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."

"He sounds like a keeper then."

"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."

"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.

"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh.

"What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"

"I just don't wanna get hurt."

"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.

She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that.

"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'm really gonna miss you, too."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence.

"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.

"I love you, too." She says.

It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles.

You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.

The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks.

Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.

You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back.

Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home.

And then.

Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it.

Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.

You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.

Just talk?

It seems like he can't type fast enough.

What else would you wanna do?

I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.

I guess I did.

Come over and I can do just that.

Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?

You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting.

At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man.

Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.

It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans.

Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.

You like it?

It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.

It's perfect.

What do you like about it?

Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me.

Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.

You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.

Like this one?

Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.

"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.

"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"

"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel."

"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.

"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless.

"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone.

Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain.

"Fuck, Joel-"

"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that?

The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.

"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck over here now."

Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week.

He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.

"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine.

"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.

"Yes. Just need you." You say.

"Are you sure?"

"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans.

"Feisty."

"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms.

He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him.

"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.

"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils.

"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.

"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.

"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs.

He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied.

"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.

"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good."

He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure.

"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming.

You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom.

It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.

"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?"

"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet.

In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing.

Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.

Just... not yet.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 months ago

Text

LEGACY ~ 8

LEGACY MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,303ish

Summary: The Team regroups and goes on a mission.

Notes: Hope you enjoy!

Dinner was eaten quickly and, for the most part, quietly. Everyone was spread out in Clint’s kitchen, dining room, breakfast nook, and living room. Fury was in the kitchen, you and Nat were seated at the dining room table, Bruce was behind you, Steve was leaning on the wall that connected the living room and dining room, Clint was in the living room with his family, and Tony was throwing darts in the breakfast nook.

“Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time,” Fury started. “My contacts all say he’s building something. The amount of Vibranium he made off with, I don’t think it’s just one thing.”

“What about Ultron himself?” Steve asked.

“Ah. He’s easy to track, he’s everywhere. Guy’s multiplying faster than a catholic rabbit. Still doesn’t help us get an angle on any of his plans though.”

“Is he still going after launch codes?” you asked.

“Yes, he is. But he’s not making any headway.”

“I cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare,” Tony stated, as he threw a few darts. You rolled your eyes. Of course Tony had hacked into the Pentagon.

“Yeah, well, I contacted our friends at the Nexus about that.”

“Nexus?” Steve questioned.

“It’s the world internet hub in Oslo,” Bruce said. “Every byte of data flows through there, fastest access on earth.”

“So what’d they say?” Clint asked as he came into the kitchen.

“He’s fixated on the missiles,” Fury replied, “but the codes are constantly being changed.”

“By whom?” Tony wondered.

Clint quickly threw a dart across the room. It narrowly missed Tony’s face and hit the center of the dart board. Tony looked at Clint with a ‘really?’ expression. Clint simply shrugged it off and I smirked at the interaction.

“Parties unknown.”

“Do we have an ally?” Natasha asked.

“Ultron’s got an enemy. That’s not the same thing. Still, I’d pay folding money to know who it is.”

“I might need to visit Oslo, find our unknown,” Tony suggested.

“Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kind of hoping when I saw you, you’d have more than that,” Nat said.

“I do, I have you,” Fury replied. “Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere, ears everywhere else. You kids had all the tech you could dream of. Here we all are, back on Earth, with nothing but our wit, and our will to save the world. Ultron says the Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission. And whether or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this,” Fury motioned to everything around us, “laid in a grave. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard.” With that, Fury sat down at the head of the table.

“Steve doesn’t like that kind of talk.”

“You know what, Romanoff?” Steve replied, trying hard not to laugh at himself. Nat gave a mischievous smile in response.

“So what does he want?” Fury probed.

“To become better. Better than us. He keeps building bodies.”

“Person bodies,” Tony added. “The human form is inefficient, biologically speaking, we’re out modeled. But he keeps coming back to it.”

“When you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed,” Natasha commented.

Bruce walked up to the table and looked at a picture of a butterfly that Clint’s daughter had drawn for Nat. “They don’t need to be protected–” Bruce started.

“They need to evolve,” you interrupted, quickly remembering what Ultron had said while he was holding onto you. “Ultron’s going to evolve.”

“How?”

“Helen…”

“Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?” Bruce quickly wondered.

~~~

Upon changing back into your suit, you headed back down the stairs. You paused when you heard Tony and Steve talking.

“I’ll take Natasha and Clint,” Steve stated.

“Alright,” Tony agreed. “Strictly recon. I’ll hit the Nexus and join you as soon as I can.”

“If Ultron is really building a body…”

“He’ll be more powerful than any of us.. Maybe all of us. An android designed by a robot.”

“You know I really miss the days when the weirdest thing science ever created was me.”

Fury appeared next to Tony and Steve. “I’ll drop Banner off at the Tower,” he informed the two men. “You mind if I borrow Ms. Hill?”

“She’s all yours, apparently,” Tony bitterly answered.

“What are you going to do?” You asked, making yourself known as you walked down the stairs to them.

“I don’t know. Something dramatic, I hope,” Fury answered with a smirk.

“Will you be willing to take Y/N back to the Tower as well?” Tony asked Fury.

Before Fury could answer, you quickly put in, “I’m not going back to the Tower,” you argued. “I am more helpful anywhere else but that Tower. And you know that.”

Tony was quick to face you. “You’re going back to the Tower.”

“I am not. I am the only one who stands a chance against the Maximoff girl.”

“She’s right,” Fury added.

“What are they talking about, Tony?” Steve asked.

“When the Maximoff girl got into Banner’s head and forced him to Hulk out, she tried to get into mine as well,” you told him. “She couldn’t do anything to me. I am the best chance–the safest one– when it comes to going up against her.”

“I’m with Y/N on this one,” Fury said. “She can hold her own against the Maximoff girl. She could help bring them in.” Fury then walked out of the house.

“No, I’m not allowing it,” Tony said, shaking his head. He pointed a finger at you. “You’re going back to the Tower and that’s final.” He started heading outside.

“If Y/N really can’t be affected by the Maximoff girl, keeping her in the Tower isn’t the wisest decision,” Steve said to Tony. You were shocked that Steve was actually siding with you, especially when you hadn’t told him about your run in with the Maximoff girl. “Y/N has trained harder than anyone I know. She’s ready for this Tony.”

Tony stopped. You and Steve stayed behind him. You could tell that he wanted to shout at you about going with Fury, but he knew that Steve was right. You were perfectly trained and ready for this. And that’s what scared him the most.

“Fine,” he whispered. He whipped around and pushed a finger into Steve’s chest. “But she’s your responsibility, Rogers. You need to know where she is at all times. And if something happens to her… it’s on your head, Cap.”

~~~

You and Steve stood on a rooftop, overlooking Helen’s lab.

“You two minutes,” Steve said into the comms. “Stay close.” He turned to you. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I’m ready,” you assured him, jumping onto the next rooftop

Steve followed right behind. The two of you used the rooftops and streets to reach Helen’s lab. When the two of you arrived, security was down, same with the technicians. Ultron had clearly been to the lab and destroyed it after he was done with it. The two of you ran through the building until you found Helen injured and bleeding on the floor.

“Dr. Cho!” Steve exclaimed. The two of you rushed over to her. Steve quickly started putting pressure on her wound. You noticed that she was having trouble breathing.

“He’s uploading himself into the body,” Helen informed through ragged breaths.

“Where?” You asked. Steve tried to get up to look around but Helen stopped him.

“The real power is inside the cradle. The gem, its power is uncontainable. You can’t just blow it up. You have to get the cradle to Stark.”

“First we have to find it,” Steve said.

“Go.”

Steve stood up and began making his way out of the room. He stopped when he noticed that you weren’t following him. He turned back around to see you place your hands on Helen’s wound.

“What… What are you doing?” Helen questioned.

“Y/N, we need to go,” Steve’s tone was demanding as he marched over, almost to pull you away.

“I know,” you said. “But I can help.”

You didn’t remember how to do it, but you trusted in Fury’s words when he said that you could heal people. You took a deep breath and focused on her wound and your hands. Quickly, you began to feel some strength leave you through your hand. You noticed that her wound began to heal. As soon as the bleeding stopped, you pulled your hands away and stood up.

“How did you…” Steve’s question trailed off as he realized that there was no time for questions. “We’ve got to find the cradle.” You and Steve rushed out of the building and started running to the highway. “Did you guys copy that?”

“We did,” Clint responded from the quinjet.

“I’ve got a private jet taking off across town, no manifest,” Nat informed. “That could be him.”

“There. It’s the truck from the lab. Right above you guys. On the loop by the bridge. It’s them. I got three with the cradle, one in the cab. I could take out the driver.”

“Negative!” Steve quickly responded. “If that truck crashes, the gem could level the city.”

“We need to draw out Ultron,” you added.

The two of you climbed up a ladder to get to the upper level of the highway. You waited until the semi-truck was underneath you before you jumped. The two of you landed on top of the truck as gracefully as you could. Steve went to the back and slid down it to try and get the doors opened with his shield. Ultron shot open the doors from the inside, causing the doors to swing open with Steve hanging onto one. He swung the door back over, only for it to be blasted off. The door managed to get stuck on the truck with Steve laying on it, holding on.

“Well, he’s definitely unhappy!” Steve commented. “I’m gonna try and keep him that way.”

“You guys aren’t a match for him, Cap,” Clint advised.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Barton,” you said.

Steve climbed up the door and tried to enter the truck. Unfortunately, Ultron blasted him onto the windshield of the car behind the truck. You quickly jumped from the roof and into the back of the truck.

“Well, well, well,” Ultron said, almost with a smirk. “Come to get some answers?”

“Why would I get answers from you?” You spat.

“Because I’m the only one who will tell you the whole truth. Who can show you your full potential.”

“And if I have my files?”

“You clearly haven’t looked at them yet… You would know that you can do better than helping the Avengers.”

You pulled a gun from your holster and shot at him a few times. There was a thud on the roof that you could only guess was Steve. Ultron quickly blasted you into the side of the truck and flew out to the roof. You moaned as you pushed yourself up, your wounds healing themselves. You went to say something through the comms, when you noticed it was missing.

Before you could do anything else, two of Ultron’s mini bots grabbed your arms. They weren’t holding you very tight, like they were under orders to keep you safe. You noticed a motorcycle gaining on the truck. It was Nat. Suddenly, the truck was being shot at and the bots holding onto you let go to go see what was happening. Nat drove her motorcycles closer to the truck and jumped in.

“Thanks for the help,” she sarcastically said.

“I lost my comms and then Ultron wanted to talk,” you defended yourself. “Not to mention his minions grabbing me.”

“You could have gotten loose.”

“I have super strength, but they’re robots made out of vibranium.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

You both walked over to the cradle near the back. You looked into it, seeing a body of some sort. Nat shared a worried glance with you before you went over to the screen, trying to stop whatever was happening inside.

“Woah!” You exclaimed as the truck was suddenly taking flight.

As the truck started to tilt, you fell to the ground and rolled towards the open end of the truck. Nat was able to grab onto the cradle.

“Negative!” Natasha quickly shouted. You assumed something was happening over the comms. “Y/N and I are still in the truck.” You pushed yourself up and began undoing the cradle’s straps with Nat. “Just be ready. We’re sending the package to you… You might wish you hadn’t asked that.”

Nat quickly placed a bomb onto the wall of the truck while you began pushing the cradle to get it moving. Once it had enough momentum, you and Nat held onto it as it headed out of the truck and towards the open quinjet.

Suddenly, you felt something grab your ankle and yank you from the cradle. You looked back to see that Ultron had grabbed you.

“Y/N!” Natasha screamed as the truck blew up.

Before you could fight back or say anything, a piece of the exploded truck hit your head, knocking you out.

~~~

“Y/N!” Natasha screamed again as the cradle landed in the quinjet.

“Cap, you see Y/N?” Clint asked worriedly.

“Y/N? What do you mean?” Steve questioned.

“Ultron took her,” Natasha said.

“What?!”

“Do you have eyes on her?” Clint repeated.

“No. Do you have the cradle?”

“We do.”

“Then go, get it to Stark!”

“But–”

“Go!”

Clint closed the quinjet and began flying off. “Damn it.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, trying to wrap their heads around losing you to Ultron.

“Clint,” Natasha got her friend’s attention, “what are we going to tell Tony?”

“Shit.”

next chapter >

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