#I feel like Tony is supposed to sound like shit so I get surprised when I hear him sing and it’s actually good and demonstrates skill

[normanbased]

I thought Never Will I Marry was gonna be a silly cute song I didn’t think it was gonna be a heart wrenching

[redroses07]

The Rock Show // Finn Wolfhard

Finn Wolfhard x Fem!Reader

WC: 2k

Based on/lyrics from 'The Rock Show' By Blink-182

Warnings: Swearing, Kissing

Summary: Finn falls in love with a girl at one of his shows, but does she feel the same?

A/N: I know I said I'd post this last night but I didn't have time to make my last few edits. Anyways, It's out now! This is also based on one of my favorite songs (I'll link it below) so it was super fun to write! This is the first time I've written for Finn in a while so I hope y'all like it! -Claire ♡

You stand outside the concert venue with your friend. Her boyfriend was the drummer for some band that was playing tonight, and she was intent on you coming along.

“Maybe you’ll meet a cute guy.” She teased, an obnoxious smirk on her face.

“Yeah, right.” you rolled your eyes, elbowing her playfully.

It was a small indoor venue, yet the line was still wrapped around the building. Luckily your friend’s boyfriend could get you special access through the back door.

When you saw the flight of stairs leading up to the stage door, you immediately regretted the heels you were wearing.

You followed closely behind your friend, unsure of where to go.

“Y/N hurry up!” Your friend called to you from the top of the stairs. You thought about how much you envied her comfy tennis shoes.

She held up the pass her boyfriend had given her, opening the door with ease.

The inside was stuffy, and even though the show hadn’t started, you could still hear the sound of the crowd cheering.

ultraviolet lights littered the ceiling, giving the area a purple glow. You could see the curtains pulled over the stage, blocking the crowd's view.

You were careful to watch for the cords strewn across the floor, connecting electric guitars and other equipment.

As soon as your friend saw her boyfriend sitting at his drum set she ran up to him excitedly, leaving you standing awkwardly backstage. You didn’t mind her going to see him of course, but you didn’t technically know anyone else back there and were worried about being thrown out.

“Hey, are you playing tonight? I’ve never seen you here before.” A voice pulled you away from your thoughts.

You turned your head to see a tall boy with messy dark hair. He had a guitar slung over his shoulder, and a mic attached to his shirt, so he clearly was playing tonight.

He was cute.

“Oh, um, no-“ You stumbled over your words, forgetting how to speak for a moment.

“I’m here with her.” You managed to say, pointing at your friend.

The boy smiled kindly, once he saw who you were pointing to.

“Third wheeling I see?”

You scuffed your heels against the floor nervously.

“Yeah, she made me come. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing now though. And clearly I look out of place too.” You said half jokingly.

The boy wore a look of surprise, which changed into embarrassment.

“Oh no, no that’s not why I started talking to you, I actually just thought you were pretty.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

You felt your face get hot, and you found yourself unable to look him in the eye.

“Thank you.” You said, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Shit, sorry if that was too forward, what’s your name?”

You giggled, finding the courage to make eye contact again.

“Y/N. What’s yours?”

“Finn. Nice to meet you Y/N.”

You blushed, standing in awkward silence.

"What time do you go on?" You asked.

You wanted to make sure you didn't miss him playing.

"Around 11."

Maybe you would have to stay longer than you anticipated. Although, now you had something to look forward to, so maybe it wouldn't be half bad.

"I'll be there," you smiled.

Finn ran his hand through his hair, curls flopping over his face. He was quick to brush them away, keeping his eyes glued to you the whole time.

The background noise heightened, and you heard someone yell for all the players, no matter what time their sets started, to hurry up.

"Shit, I've gotta go...but you have good seats tonight right?" Finn asked.

"Yeah, right up front." Having a connection to one of the players did have its perks.

"Okay! Hold on a second!" Finn ran out of the room leaving you standing around awkwardly for a second time.

You peered through the door he ran through, eagerly waiting for him to come back. That is, if he was coming back at all. You were thoroughly confused and decided to lean back against the wall while you waited. Maybe you'd blend in better that way.

Finn came flying back around the corner, the guitar that was strapped around him swaying slightly.

"I couldn't find any paper, so is it okay if I write on your arm?" He held up a black sharpie, one of the big ones you'd use to write on posters with.

"Uh sure?" At this point you wondered if turning away was a better option, but nonetheless, you let him take your arm.

You watched as Finn frantically scribbled a few letters and numbers down on your arm. When he lets your arm go, you squinted at the messy black writing.

"That's the venue I'm playing at tomorrow. If you like what you see tonight, come tomorrow and I'll take you out afterwards."

You looked at your arm and smiled at the gesture.

"You know you could've just written it in my phone right?" You laughed.

"This is way cooler." Finn replied with a toothy grin.

"I really have to go now." He began to walk backwards towards the stage.

"Hopefully I'll be seeing you soon." Finn shot two finger guns at you before turning around and rushing off.

You were left alone once more, but you no longer felt awkward. You were too preoccupied with the butterflies in your stomach.

"Come on let's go- what's that?" Your friend asked, a suspicious smirk appeared on her face.

"I'll explain later."

You rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the hoard of people.

You surfed through the crowd, finally reaching the front of the pit below the stage. You were close enough to where you could reach up and touch the stage if you wanted.

You stayed in the same spot for most of the show, and time passed rather quickly. The music was enjoyable, but you had to admit that you were waiting for Finn to show up.

Finally, when the lights filled the room, signaling that another set was beginning, you saw him. He was standing center stage, guitar in one hand, microphone in the other.

You don't know how, but he managed to spot you among-st all the people. He winked in your direction, and you could feel your face light up.

Finn's singing voice definitely kept you interested, more than you had been all night. And if you weren't already convinced to go out with him, his guitar skills sealed the deal.

At the end of the night your friend called a cab, your feet hurt far too much to walk back to your apartment. During the ride you rambled to her about the cute boy you had met backstage, and how glad you were that you let her drag you along.

She argued that this gave her best friend bragging rights for at least a week. You scoffed, but agreed.

The minute you got home, you changed your clothes and crashed in your bed; already excited for the date you would surely be going on the next day.

From the moment you woke up, you were riddled with excitement. The show wasn't until late but you started getting ready around mid-day.

When the time finally came, you could feel the nerves coursing through your veins. But they were good nerves, as good as nerves could be of course.

You arrived at the venue alone, not the safest option but you were careful. You made your way up front about fifteen minutes before the show started so you didn't have to push through as many people.

The place was more like a club considering most of the attendees were standing and there were hardly any seats, save for the few in the back.

In what seemed like no time at all, the show began.

Finn was center stage yet again, and you could see him scanning the room. You hoped he was looking for you.

He had yet to spot you before starting the first song, which was an upbeat ballad. You bobbed your head along to the beat of the music, relaxing into the environment.

Finn's voice was like honey, each word flowing off of his lips beautifully.

Once the song was over, he approached the microphone.

"Thank you all for coming out here tonight." He scanned the room once more, but this time he did see you. His face lit up, just as it had the night before.

"This next song is a cover, and it reminds me a lot of someone I just recently met." His deep brown eyes never left yours.

He began to sing, a wide smile on his face as he did.

"I fell in love with a girl at the rock show, she said "what?" and I told her that I didn't know."

You smiled at the lyrics, surprised by how much you felt for this boy you had known no more than a day.

You let yourself float closer to the stage, still keeping your eyes on Finn. He was clearly focused on his guitar, playing through the riff before starting to sing again.

Finn noticed you standing below the stage and began to navigate towards you.

"And if I ever got another chance, I'd still ask her to dance. Because she kept me waiting."

He leaned down, knees hitting the floor. He continued to sing, doing everything he could to inch closer to you while he did.

You reached up, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him down further. Half of his body was hanging off of the stage, yet he still continued to sing.

"With the girl at the rock show..." His singing voice became breathy and strained.

The song ended and Finn pulled you up on stage with him. You could feel your heart beating with anticipation. Just like that, he pulled you into a messy kiss. The crowd erupted into applause, cheers, and even a few whistles could be heard. It was too brief for you to really enjoy the kiss, but it was perfect nonetheless.

When you broke apart, Finn leaned into you and whispered in your ear.

"Go wait backstage, I'll see you in a bit."

You smiled at him, and made the bold decision to kiss him on the cheek. The crowd cheered once more, and you took that as your queue to exit.

You sure would never forget tonight.

[jedi-luca]

Avenger Lane Chapter 10: Bad Romance

Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention? 

Parings: Quinn Fabray x Reader / eventual Natasha x Reader(slow burn)

Warnings: Reader has a Penis, mentions of drug use

Previous Chapter. Next chapter

You were sound asleep when the door busted open. You gasped, jolting awake still half asleep.

“Oh my gosh!” Quinn gasped, falling out of bed thankful you both had clothes on.

“Happy boythday papa!” Finley beamed holding a cup cake and Beth holding breakfast.

“Aw thanks sugar booger.” You say sleepily as your daughters climb up in bed.

“Mom, can you light it please?” Beth urged her mom handing her the lighter.

“Hmhm.” Quinn blinked awake taking the cup cake and setting it on Beth’s table. 

Finley climbed up on the bed with a huge smile on her face. “Papa, it’s your boythday! Yayyyyy!” She clapped.

“Hmhm.” You yawned, smiling.

Quinn smiled sleepily as she and the girls began singing happy birthday.

“And many more on channel 4, and scooby do on channel 2, and a big fat lady on channel 80, and all the rest on CBS!” Beth giggled, finishing along with a great attempt from her little sister.

“Aw thank you sweets.” You smiled, kissing all of your girls on the cheek. 

You lift the cinnamon waffle and give your daughters a piece as well as your wife before eating yours.

“Hmmm tasty!” Finley hummed.

“I’m still hungry… I think I need a little girl to eat!” You began tickling Finley and Beth’s laughter filling the house. 

Quinn recorded all of it on her phone and posted it on social media. Where your neighbor Natasha just watched. You looked so happy and so did the girls. The secret Tony gave her is eating her up inside.

Nat turned her head seeing you snuggling with your family as you all watched a movie.

‘Ugh how am I supposed to tell Y/N?’ she thought to herself.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

So far your birthday was going great. You spoke to your parents for a while, leaving out the tidbit of Quinn getting pregnant. You were coming back from dinner after dropping off your daughters with their aunt when you opened the front door.

“SURPRISE!!!!” 

You jolted in place, placing a hand over your heart with a grin. “Aww guys!” They’re were streamers everywhere and a large banner that read ‘Happy Birthday’

“Surprise motha fucka!” Santana and Brittany jumped you.

“Oof!” You felt the air leave your lungs feeling Santana give you a hug.

“Happy birthday best friend.” Mike smiled, taking the next hug.

“Thanks man.” You grinned.

Soon the gleeks all hugged you at once finally allowing your new found friends to get in on the love.

First Tony, the Barton’s, Steve, Peggy, and Bucky of course. Thor lifts you up along with Val and Carol. The Stranges nodding towards you. You completely forgot about them. They’re the only ones your wife truly liked. Truthfully you found Steven Strange a bit of an ass thankfully his wife keeps him in check.

Wanda and Vis, May and Happy. The Quills, Scott and Hope, Shaun and Kate, Marc and Layla, but the best was for last.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” Natasha smiled softly, hugging you close.

“Thanks Nat.” You squeezed her back.

Quinn loudly clapped her hands, startling you. “Alright drinks and karaoke time!”

You let go of Natasha and all of you made your way to the back.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“Hey I was wondering where you went off too.” Natasha smiled seeing you in the kitchen.”

“Just needed a breather.” You muttered vaping your weed pen.

“Sure it wasn’t because Rachel is singing with Quinn?” The redhead kinked her brow.

“…No.” You muttered drinking the rest of your drink. You were crossfaded and ready to get shit faced.

“Hmhm.” The redhead chuckled sitting on the counter where you were leaning.

You grinned looking down at her jean covered legs.

“I got you something.” She said softly, taking it out of her pocket.

“Whhhat? You shouldn’t have.” You chuckled, taking the small box in your hand. You unwrapped it, opened the box and took out a necklace with the initials of your daughters on it.

“If you look through the top you’ll see them.” She smiled watching your jaw drop. You could see a picture of you and your little girls from the time you were in Natasha’s pool.

“Nat this is… thank you. I love it.” You chuckled, hugging her tightly against you. “It’s a really thoughtful and sweet gift. I love it.” You hand her the necklace to place it on you. She leaned in, unclasping the hook before placing it on you and leaning back again. 

“You’re welcome.” She said softly, you were both close and you don’t know if it’s her scent or being crossfaded but you have an urge to take her like a caveman. God, you get so horny when you drink. Her arms are still loosely hanging around your neck. You’re so close between her legs she can feel your bulge growing she leans in lightly kissing your cheek. “Happy birthday.” 

“Thank you…Where is Bruce?” You ask softly, stepping closer feeling her legs nudge you closer.

Natasha shrugs, she doesn’t have the energy to lie, not when she’s buzzed and can smell your scent.

“He doesn’t deserve you Nat.” You say boldly caressing her cheek.

She’s just going to tell you. Tell you her marriage is a sham, tell you that Quinn is the one that doesn’t deserve you. The words are on the edge of her lips when you start leaning closer “Y/N-” She husks arching her back ever so lightly to lighten the ache between her legs.

“You deserve so much better.” 

“The same could be said for you.” She whispers her hands now cupping our cheeks. She can feel how hard you are and God she just wants you to take her right there on the counter with your bitchy wife right outside. She arches once more so she can rub herself against you ever so slightly. You both hold eye contact as your hands hook beneath her legs. You’re both so close to pouncing one another when the back door opens. You both feel like the bubble has been burst. You both clear your throats as she pats your chest gently pushing you back a bit so she can get down. You turn slightly to rearrange your package discreetly.

“Hey Y/N.” Rachel cleared her throat, eyeing Natasha. “Quinn is looking for you.”

“Right.” You sigh softly remembering who you are married to. You feel a little sick thinking of the way you almost just ruined it due to a buzz. You walk away without giving Natasha another look afraid Rachel will sniff out what just transpired.

“So Quinn is right, you do want Y/N. It’s funny how they’re onto us yet they haven’t done anything about it.” Rachel says softly looking around the kitchen.

“Truly do not know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry, who are you?” Natasha furrowed her brow.

“I’m Rachel Berry.” The small brunette looked almost offended; everyone who had watched a musical or walked down Broadway knew her. “I started the glee club. Went to school with Quinn and Y/N. Tony award winning actress?”

“Ahh I see.”

“You know…” Rachel walks closer standing next to the Russian redhead. For once she met someone who was her height. “Maybe we could work together?” The starlet shrugged.

Natasha’s eyes widened realizing what she was implying.

“I can admit they would be better off divorced. Don’t you think?” Rachel furrowed her brow. “They’re both obviously unhappy.”

“I think you may be a little crazy.” Natasha chuckled, starting to walk past Rachel.

“Call me crazy but I see the way you look at Y/N, and I saw the way Y/N looked at you. You were seconds away from christening this countertop. You almost had Y/N. Almost. Your demise was doing it here in the kitchen. You’d have to do it somewhere no one would barge in and catch you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N and I are friends. I am married.”

“Hmm. Hmhm. If it helps I’ve never seen Y/N look at any woman like that before. Not even Quinn. If we work together we could have them ya know… it wouldn’t take much. Their marriage has been threatening to crumble for a year now.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you’re implying breaking up a marriage it’s sickening.”  Natasha gripped the handle when Rachel stopped her.

“I know you want Y/N. I’m not afraid to tell you I want Quinn. I’ve wanted her since high school. Y/N treats Quinn great no doubt but Quinn? The same can’t be said for her and everyone knows it. Just think about it huh? This little convo stays between us.” With that Rachel slips out of the back door like a snake as Natasha stands there in shock.

Natasha steadied her breathing a lot just happened and she needs to go back outside and act like it didn’t. God she has so much to tell you now and no idea how to do it.

The door opens again this time revealing Wanda. 

“Hey, there you are! Come on Y/N is about to play us a song Quinn got them a new guitar… are you okay?” Wanda quickly notices that her best friend was absolutely not okay. 

“I have so much to tell you.” Natasha sighed.

“Do you wanna get out of here and talk about it at my place?”

“No, no, I want to watch Y/N play. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“Okay.” Wanda hugs her best friend tightly, helping her relax a bit. “Come on, I'll make you a drink.”

They both make their way back to the party when you are getting ready to play. Tina is back on bass, Blaine is on the keyboard, and although you’re missing Finn on drums Carol takes up the mantle claiming to be a drum God.

“Hey dude you okay?” Mike asked as you took a bump of coke. “How’d you even get that?”

“Santana.” You mutter taking a shot.

“Hey I haven’t seen you this way since Finn died. What happened?” He asks, taking you aside making you put the joint down.

“I think I almost just fucked up my marriage.” You hissed.

“With who?” Mike’s eyes widened. This was not you whatsoever. You lived for your family, you would never be the type to cheat.

“Nat.” You whisper.

“Oh wow. What happened?”

“She gave me a gift and I… Mike I got bricked up and we almost… We almost kissed and if we had I would have-” You inhale deeply about to have a panic attack.

“Heyyy whoa… Breathe.” He said holding your shoulders. “In.” He inhaled with you. “Now out.” He exhaled, nodding. “That’s it. Listen bud you didn’t cheat. Did you almost… yeah probably but you didn’t. You’re high and buzzed. I know Brittany gave you a mushroom you microdosed with her, vaping from your pen, drinking, and I don’t even know how much coke you’ve been doing. The thing is you’re out of it right now. It meant nothing.”

“I don’t know Mike.” You shook your head. “I was so close to ruining everything.”

“Hey stop it. It’s your birthday. You got carried away. You both probably won’t even remember this tomorrow. Now take a deep breath and go play your heart out.”

“Mike… Do you think Quinn doesn’t deserve me?”

Mike’s eyes widened a bit in a state of shock.

“Do you think I made a mistake marrying her? My parents did… Finn did…Sersi and now Nat-”

“Hey come on you’re spiraling.”

“But-” 

“You’re spiraling.” Mike shook his head. 

“Hey there you are!” Quinn smiled.

“Come on, everyone wants to hear you play!”

Quinn ushers you on the patio platform in front of the mic.

“I just want to thank all of you for coming out tonight. Thank you to my wife for setting this all up. Thank you all for the gifts and the drinks-”

“The drugs!” Santana cackled Quinn glaring at her.

The neighbors all chuckled. “I’ll take some!” Tony laughed as Pepper smacked his arm. “Ow honey I’m kidding.”

“Anyway thanks for letting me jam out with my old band. This one goes out to Finn I really fucking miss you man.” 

“Here here!” Mike clapped with the rest of the gleeks.

You pour one out for your old best friend before downing another shot.

You turn around counting with your band. Carol nodded and began drumming the first few beats before you and Tina joined in shredding it up.

“All her signals are getting lost in the ether

(That's what she wanted) 

She's a landslide with a city beneath her

(That's what she wanted)

So take a good look so you'll never forget it

(That's what she wanted)

Take a deep breath, I know I'm gonna regret it

(That's what she wanted)

Holly's lookin' dry, lookin' for an easy target

Let her slit my throat, give her ammo if she'll use it

Caution on the road, lies, lies and hidden danger

Southern Ohio’s breeding mommy's little monster

She's got a mission, and I'm collateral damage

(That's what she wanted)

She's the flower that you place on my casket

(That's what she wanted)

Savor the moment 'cause the memory's fleeting

Take a photograph as the last train is leaving”

Quinn always hated this song; she just knew you were singing about her. How could you not? 

“Holly's lookin' dry, lookin' for an easy target

Let her slit my throat, give her ammo if she'll use it

Caution on the road, lies, lies and hidden danger

Southern Ohio’s breeding mommy's little monster

“Think she’s singing about Quinn?” Tony asked leaning up to speak to Natasha. The redhead nodded, not saying a word. Truthfully she’s still thinking about what almost happened.

“(Better run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me out

(Better run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me out

(Better run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me out

(Better run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me ouuuut!”

“Yeahh!” Tony cheered loudly, clapping his hands.

“Damn I didn’t know Y/N could jam like a rockstar!” Sam chuckled.

“Kind of sexy.” Bucky muttered.

“Really?” Steve huffed.

“Okay but they’re super gay right?” Kurt whispered to his husband eyeing Steve and Bucky. 

“You can see it from space.” Blaine nodded.

“Poor Peggy.” They cringed seeing her sit next to her husband.

“Alright I'm gonna need my wife, Kurt, Mercedes, and Santana to come up here.”

You turn around briefly whispering to your band mates before turning around and strumming your guitar.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance. Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

“Ahhh this is my song bitch!” Santana laughed as the rest of the women and Kurt stand around the mic.

Everyone began to cheer before singing along. It was always a hit. Thankfully the gleeks remember whose part is whose.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance!” Kurt sang.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance” everyone sang next.

“I want your ugly, I want your disease I want your everything as long as it's free I want your love” Tina sang before moving so Mercedes could sing next.

“Love, love, love, I want your love (hey) I want your drama, the touch of your hand (hey) I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand I want your love

“Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

Quinn stood next to you and began singing the part that always drove you crazy.

 “You know that I want you And you know that I need youI want it bad, your bad romance.” She bit your ear before you sang next looking right at Natasha.

“I want your love, and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) I want your love and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

Natasha gulped, were you sending her a message or was this just ironic? 

“Oh my god what happened in that house Y/N was totally singing to you!” Wanda hissed near her ear.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Nat muttered.

“Ugh, the suspense is killing me.” Wanda whined.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance”

“I want your horror, I want your design 'Cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine I want your love” Mercedes sang. “Love, love, love, I want your love”

“I want your psycho, your vertigo shtick (hey) Want you in my rear window, baby, you're sick I want your love” Santana sang.

“Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

“You know that I want you And you know that I need you ('cause I'm a free bitch, baby) I want it bad, your bad romance”

You desperately wanted to know what Natasha sounds like if she sang that part. You shake your head before singing your part.

“I want your love, and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) I want your love and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance

Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, passion baby Work it, I'm a free bitch, baby

“I want your love, and I want your revenge

I want your love, I don't wanna be friends 

J'veux ton amour, et je veux ta revanche

J'veux ton amour, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) No, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh, caught in a bad romance) I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) Want your bad romance! (oh-oh-oh)” 

Damn Santana still has it.

“Caught in a bad romance Want your bad romance I want your love, and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) I want your love and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh (Want your bad romance) Caught in a bad romance (Want your bad romance) Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh (Want your bad romance) Caught in a bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ahRoma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance”

Everyone cheered and clapped.

“How often do you think they play this song?” Pepper glared at her husband. “I’m just saying they all had a part.” Tony shrugged.

“How many times must I remind you. They were in glee club together in high school.” Pepper grit.

“Good times!” You chuckled as the gleeks hugged and walked off the makeshift stage. “This next one was Finn’s favorite song so it’s a must. Feel free to sing along and pour one out for my boy.”

“Bet.” Sam Wilson nodded, pouring some into the grass.

“Sam it got on my boots.” Bucky gruffed.

“It’s for a fellow fallen soldier Buck, show some respect.” Sam Wilson glared.

As soon as the band began playing the intro Steve stood jumping up and down. “This is one of my favorites too!”

“Oh my.” Bucky muttered, clearly judging his booyfriend.

“Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo”

“I'm packed and I'm holding

I'm smiling, she's living, she's golden

She lives for me, says she lives for me

Ovation, her own motivation

She comes round and she goes down on me

And I make you smile, like a drug for you

Do ever what you wanna do, coming over you

Keep on smiling, what we go through

One stop to the rhythm that divides you

And I speak to you like the chorus to the verse

Chop another line like a coda with a curse

Come on like a freak show takes the stage

We give them the games we play, she said-“

“I want something else to get me through this

Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby

I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo

The sky was gold, it was rose

I was taking sips of it through my nose

And I wish I could get back there, someplace back there

Smiling in the pictures you would take

Doing crystal meth, will lift you up until you break

It won't stop, I won't come down

I keep stock with a tick-tock rhythm, a bump for the drop

And then I bumped up, I took the hit that I was given

Then I bumped again, then I bumped again

I said

How do I get back there to the place where I fell asleep inside you

How do I get myself back to the place where you said

I want something else to get me through this

Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby

I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye

I believe in the sand beneath my toes

The beach gives a feeling, an earthy feeling

I believe in the faith that grows

And that four right chords can make me cry

When I'm with you I feel like I could die

And that would be alright, alright

And when the plane came in, she said she was crashing

The velvet it rips in the city, we tripped on the urge to feel alive

Now I'm struggling to survive

Those days you were wearing that velvet dress

You're the priestess, I must confess

Those little red panties they pass the test

Slides up around the belly, face down on the mattress

One

And you hold me, and we are broken

Still it's all that I wanna do, just a little now

Feel myself, heading off the ground

I'm scared, I'm not coming down

No, no

And I won't run for my life

She's got her jaws now locked down in a smile

But nothing is alright, alright

And I want something else to get me through this life

Baby, I want something else

Not listening when you say

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

The sky was gold, it was rose 

I was taking sips of it through my nose 

And I wish I could get back there 

Someplace back there, in the place we used to start

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

I want something else

Steve clapped and whistled loudly. “Fuck yeah!” 

“He said a bad word.” Tony snorted.

You walked over to the Natasha with a grin.

“Sing a song for me?” You asked the redhead.

“Oh I don’t know-”

“Please? It’s my birthday. You can pick the song.”

Natasha sighed and nodded, taking your hand. You gave a lopsided grin and kissed the top of her hand.

You lead her up the patio. “What do you wanna sing?” 

“I think you know.” She kinks her brow and you know exactly what to play.

You take up your acoustic guitar and begin picking the strings before looking over at her.

“Boy, tell me, can you take my breath away?

Cruisin' down a heart-shaped highway

Got you swervin' lane-to-lane, don't hit the brakes

'Cause I'm feelin' so safe

I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, why don't we get out of town?

Call me your baby, on the same wave

Oh, no, no, there's no slowin' down!”

You grin at her, your eyes never having left hers and join her in the chorus.

“You and I, I

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i”

Quinn is bristling at this exchange especially when the redhead stands up and threads her fingers in your hair.

“Let me run my fingers through your salty hair

Go ahead, explore the island

Vibes so real that you can feel it in the air

I'm revvin' up your engine”

Natasha taps your chin and continues the song.

“I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, why don't we get out of town? (Why don't we get out of town?)

Call me your baby, catch the same wave

Oh, no, no, there's no slowin' down (let's go)”

“Quinn is going to kill Y/N.” Kurt muttered

“Okay but I’m loving this, their chemistry is through the roof!” Blaine smiled.

“You and I, I

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

No, no

You and I (you and I, I)

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, whoa

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i

Call me your baby, catch the same wave

Oh, whoa

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i"

You quickly placed the guitar down and clapped whistling to cheer her on. You looked towards the crowd but didn’t see Quinn. Low and behold you couldn’t find Rachel either. You save that for later and focus on Natasha.

“That was beautiful Nat.” You chuckled and hugged her.

“Damn she’s sexy, Russian, and can sing?” Santana gawked with her wife Brittany.

“I know! No wonder Quinn is so jealous of her.” Brittany muttered.

“Where is that bitch anyway?” Santana squinted her eyes as she scanned the crowd.

“She went inside and so did Berry.” Brittany looked at her wife.

“Fuck Quinn.” Santana groaned.

Steve walked over to Bucky. “Buck.” He hissed. 

“What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost, or worse a naked woman.” He chuckled.

“Well.” Steve inhaled looking at you and Natasha.

“Oh shit you did.” Bucky chuckled. “Who?”

“Quinn and Rachel.” He whispered.

“What!?” Bucky exclaimed, making some people look over.

“Keep your voice down. It’s Y/N’s birthday.” He grit.

“I knew Quinn was no good.” Bucky muttered.

“Well we aren’t either. We are doing the exact same thing.”

“Hey take it easy, you said you were going to tell Peggy before she leaves again.”

Steve nodded watching Quinn and Rachel trickle out of the house.

“Do they know?” Bucky asked, looking away from them.

“No but they know someone knows. I broke a vase; I was in such shock.” He muttered.

“You’re going to have to tell Y/N.”

“Fuck.” Steve sighed he hated cursing but he knew this situation called for it. You and Quinn seemed so happy but then again he and Peggy did too. He knew he had to tell her and fast.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“Okay spill.” Wanda said, placing a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of Natasha.

“Ughhhhh Wands!” Natasha whined banging her head on the table.

“Stop! Start from the beginning.” Wanda placed a plate of pancakes down.

“Remember how we had a football match back in August?”

“Yeaaaah.” Wanda nodded. “I had major FOMO that day.”

“Well Tony dropped a bombshell on me. Apparently someone close to Y/N turned down their full ride to MIT.”

“Oh my gosh!!! Shut up no!” Wanda gasped, her hand going over her mouth.

“Yes!”

“My money's on Quinn. She probably got scared Y/N would leave her and Beth or something.”

“I think it’s her too but Tony said we can’t just assume we need to talk to Y/N, but-“

“Neither of you want to break their family apart.” Wanda nodded. “That’s understandable.”

“So now I have this bigger secret than my fake relationship with Bruce, and now on top of that I have another that I don’t even know what to do with!”

“Oh my gosh what?! You’re killing me!” Wanda whined.

“Y/N and I had a moment in the kitchen last night.” Natasha sighed.

“Nat.” Wanda sighed. “Y/N is married-”

“I know!”

“I told you that gift was too personal-”

“But-”

“But no Nat. Listen. I love you but this is wrong.”

“I know.” Nat sighed. “I think it was just the alcohol… the only reason I brought that up is because of Rachel Berry.”

“The short one that kept singing broadway songs?”

“Yes! Anyway she cornered me right after and suggested we break them up.”

“What the hell? Hasn’t she been their friend since highschool?!”

“Yes!”

“What did she say?”

“She said she knows I like Y/N and she likes Quinn and thinks they should divorce that they aren’t truly happy together.”

“What a weirdo.” Wanda gasped.

“She told me to think about it. Now I have to tell Y/N that their career was stolen from them, and their old friend is a snake.” Natasha sighed. “Wands what do I do?” 

“Honestly, I would like to know if it happened to me.”

“But how do I even begin to tell Y/N? This is going to break Y/N’s heart, and worse, what if they don’t believe me?”

“You’ll have to treat it like a band aid.” Wanda sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“This could ruin their relationship.”

“Or it could strengthen it.” Wanda raised her brow.

It was quiet for a beat when Vis walked in.

“I think the real question is Nat do you have feelings for Y/N?”

“Vis what the hell?” Wanda grit.

“I’m sorry I was hungry and didn’t want to interrupt!” He said, grabbing a plate.

“What do my feelings have to do with what happened?” Natasha asked.

“Because if you have feelings and you are both married granted yours is a sham-”

“Vis!” Wanda smacked his arm.

“I just mean if you have feelings for a married person you need to distance yourself.”

“Oh don’t worry after I speak with Y/N I’m sure they’ll stop talking to me.” Natasha smiled sarcastically. She was stuck between a rock in a hard place. One she's falling for you, two she needs to tell you her marriage is a sham, three someone stole your chance at MIT. How does someone even begin to unload all of that information?

[goodlucktai]

I don't know if you're taking prompts, but I would love to see you do a fic where Mikey runs away. I'm reading your Wishes are Fishes story right now and the scene where Mikey announces his plan to run away and I love Raphs reaction to the news. Would love to see what the big brothers do if he actually does run. Love your works, by the way. If I can write half as well as you one day, I'll die happy!

x

Mikey didn’t show up for movie night and he wasn’t answering his phone. 

Raphael is a juggernaut of a human being at all times, but especially where his brothers are concerned—and at some point when none of them were looking, Mikey had slid into the sibling role seamlessly. 

So there’s really nothing Donnie can think of that would come close to stopping him from marching up the front path of the Campbell’s big house and knocking smartly, on just the right side of outright banging, on the imposing door. 

When no one answers right away, he works his jaw and knocks again. Donnie knows what it looks like when Raph is only going to get louder until he gets results. He darts a nervous look at Leo. Leo shakes his head, arms folded tightly. Ready to let this play out. 

Donnie texts Mikey again, feeling silly for the way his fingers are shaking. It’s probably nothing. There’s no reason for him to be freaking out over six read receipts and zero replies. 

Raph is raising his fist to knock again—and from the set of the shoulders, this time he’s definitely going to be rude—when the door is yanked open from the inside. 

Mikey’s foster father says, “What now?”

Leo says, in a tone that probably sounds polite to a stranger, that makes Donnie want to shiver from how cold it is, “Hi, sir. Sorry to bother you. We’re just looking for Mikey.”

“Jesus,” the man says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It never ends.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Raph bites out, and then winces when Leo digs his elbow into his side. 

“We’re his friends,” Donnie volunteers. His eyes move past the man into the foyer, straining for a glimpse of that bright boy who so effortlessly drew the three quadruplets out of their shells. “We had plans.”

“Michael doesn’t care about anybody’s plans but his own,” the unfamiliar man says curtly. “You should find yourself a better friend.”

Despite his temper, Donnie isn’t a violent person. Raph and Leo aren’t, either. Sensei taught them self-control before he taught them anything else. Donnie knows better than to act on anger. 

But he pictures himself punching that man in the throat hard enough to make him choke so clearly that he’s distantly surprised he hasn’t actually done it. Likewise, Leo’s hand darts out to grab Raph by the arm, his grip white-knuckled. Donnie can’t tell if it’s an attempt to keep Raph in check, or himself. Maybe both. 

A sharp voice from further inside the house says, “Tony, enough!” 

The man throws his hands up in sarcastic surrender and moves away from the door. His wife glares at him as he goes by, one arm hugged around her own middle protectively. The sharp look on her face relents slightly when she looks at Donnie and his brothers. 

“I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

“Where’s Mikey,” Raph grits out, very much at his personal threshold of shit he’s willing to take. Mrs. Campbell’s expression does something it hurts to look at. 

“He’s gone,” she says quietly. 

Please please please, Donnie thinks through the white-noise filling up his head. Please please please. 

“What does that mean?” Leo asks in a wooden tone. 

“His room was empty this morning,” she says, blinking rapidly. Her arm tightens around her stomach. “It’s my fault. I know I haven’t been what he needs, I know he’s unhappy here. I thought—I thought he would be excited to have a sibling.” 

Of course. Donnie understands as easily as if Mikey were standing right there to explain it to his face. 

Mrs. Campbell was going to have a baby, and Mikey would be an unwanted child again. Of course he would think so. That’s the truth of the world as he knows it. That’s the life that he’s lived, one home after another. How could he be expected to assume that someone would actually choose to keep him? 

“Here,” she says, pulling a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her cardigan. “I sent a picture of it to his caseworker already. I can’t let you have it, just in case—well, just in case. But you can read it.”

Raph all but rips it out of her hand, and holds it out so Leo and Donnie can read with him from each side. 

Their friend’s messy handwriting spills across the page in smeared graphite, a short goodbye and very little else. Donnie’s eyes are drawn to the P.S. at the bottom. 

Tell the guys I’m sorry. 

“That little moron,” Raph breathes out. He shoves the paper back at Mrs. Campbell, knowing himself well enough to know that if he holds onto it for a second longer he’ll tear it to pieces and set it on fire. She takes it quickly, looking pale and upset and worried for them. 

“Don’t be angry at him,” she says. “He’s such a sweetheart. Better than I deserve. Really lives up to his name.”

Through the dull, horrified daze he’s wading through, something about that remark pegs Donatello as strange. The name “Michael” means “who resembles god,” which isn’t the sort of off-hand knowledge he would expect Mrs. Campbell to comment on. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. He barely recognizes his own voice. 

She turns over her shoulder to frown at something short and impatient that Tony says from another room. At Donnie’s question, she says, “Oh, you know. Michelangelo? He can be a lot of trouble, but he really is an angel. Anyway, I need to go. I’m expecting a call from—”

Leo’s hand catches the door as it starts to close. All those years of single-minded focus on martial arts have made him an immovable object to match Raphael’s unstoppable force. That door isn’t moving again until he lets go. 

Beside him, Donnie thinks Raph is holding his breath. Donnie knows he for sure isn’t breathing. 

“What did you call him?” Leonardo asks very carefully. 

Mrs. Campbell looks between the three of them like she’s trying to make sense of a foreign text. 

“Michelangelo,” she says, confused by their confusion. “The name he came home from the hospital with.” A smile touches her face, the barest turn of her mouth. “When I saw his file I thought… whoever named him must have loved him a lot.”

Her husband is coming back and his voice is all loud. Leo’s hand slips away from the door. With a soft goodbye, she closes it, and leaves them standing on her porch. 

“Do you think,” Raph starts, and stops. 

“It’s not possible,” Leo says. His tone says he’s trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.

But that’s stupid. It’s stupid. They know already. They’ve known this whole time. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Donnie doesn’t believe in fate or magic or any kind of higher power, but he believes in that phantom pain he’s carried in his chest his entire life. And it always hurt a little less when Mikey was around.

There may not be a god, but there are invisible strings that tie people together. There are ghosts with guiding hands. Maybe mom was helping all along, pushing them gently towards each other. 

It doesn’t matter. Donnie doesn’t care. 

Even if Mikey was totally unrelated to them and all of it was a huge, incredible coincidence, Donnie would want him back.

But if Mikey is his brother, it’ll be a lot easier to keep him. 

“Call dad,” he says abruptly. Leo and Raph turn to look at him, but Donnie’s eyes are on his phone. He’s opening that one-sided text thread. The fog in his brain is clearing and he’s all lit-up with the kind of single-minded purpose that could outrun the apocalypse. “Let’s get ahead of this.”

Pick up the phone this time, Angie.

He gives it a minute exactly, counting the seconds in his head. They’re still standing on the Campbell’s porch. Leo is making a phone call of his own. Raph is tense, a coiled spring, waiting to burst into movement as soon as he’s given a direction to move in. Then Donnie taps Mikey’s name and the blue call button and puts the phone to his ear. 

After four rings, the call is picked up. 

That dear voice on the other end, all thick and warbly with tears, mumbles, “‘Angie’?” 

It’s impossible that Donnie should be able to smile after the morning he’s had. He might have to rethink his stance on miracles. 

“We have a lot to talk about, Michelangelo,” he says. “Wherever you are, start thinking about heading home. If we have to come get you, Raph’ll be pissed.”

“I’m already pissed,” Raph says loudly, jostling close to the phone. 

“Mikey, Mike, are you okay?” Leo says over them both. 

“Sorry,” Mikey says, and he’s audibly crying now. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t want to go.”

“It’s okay,” Donnie tells him. He’s ready to bend the entire world into the shape he wants it to take with his bare hands if he has to. “You’re not going anywhere.” 

[irondad-defensesquad]

looking after the little guy

Also posted on AO3.

This is the vent fic I mentioned. It's VERY personal and touch-starved, so might be OOC. I detail the reasons behind this story in the author notes on AO3. But it's nothing new from me, lmao.

--

He can’t sleep.

He might be half asleep, but the pain and his stuffy nose refuse to let him rest. Peter tries to fight them off for hours, only to wake up feeling worse every half an hour.

Groaning, though swallowing the urge to yell in frustration, he gets out of bed to head to the kitchen. Hopefully some hot chocolate milk might help, as Uncle Ben and Aunt May often made for him whenever he got sick.

Peter has no idea what time it is. Everything is pretty quiet… Tony must be sleeping, which is surprising, but it’s a good thing that he’s getting proper rest. And that’s why Peter shouldn’t bother him with this. So, he decides to make the hot chocolate milk for himself.

Problem is, Peter keeps forgetting what he’s supposed to get.

After he gets the glass, he paces for a while before seeing the glass again, and remembering that he needs a spoon. And the chocolate. The teenager tries not to lose his cool, even if it worsens his burning headache.

Finally, he prepares the chocolate milk and puts the glass in the microwave, automatically setting the timer. Peter leans on the counter for support, the bright light probably worsening his weighing forehead. Other than that, Peter feels sweaty and gross, so he takes off his hoodie. Only for him to feel cold all of a sudden, but he refuses to put it on again.

He forgot his phone in his room and he doesn’t want to go all the way back there to get it, so Peter spaces out. He might even feel like he isn’t here…

Eventually, he smells the chocolate milk. And he can still hear the microwave spinning it. How long has it been? A couple seconds? Hours?

When he checks on it, the milk is boiling and spilling everywhere.

“Shit!” Peter curses, immediately turning it off. He yelps when he tries to take the glass, which probably burns his hand. He’s so stupid, why didn’t he take a cup?

What a mess. He has to clean this before Tony sees it. Hopefully he won’t wake up anytime soon. Peter just wishes there wasn’t a fog blocking his brain, so he could do things right.

At the very least, the boy takes a dishcloth not only to get the glass out of the microwave, but also to clean what he can. He forgot to put detergent and a bit of water first, but whatever. Peter cleans the worst of the spilled milk and he throws the dishcloth in the sink for him to wash later (let’s hope he doesn’t forget to do that).

There’s only half of the milk left in the glass…

For some dumb reason, Peter wants to cry.

Because he’s sick? Because he wishes someone else made the chocolate milk for him? Because he misses someone doing that? Why? He’s not a kid anymore. He’s supposed to grow up and handle things himself. And he has no problem doing that.

Oh god, he’s crying. Stop it.

Great, now the snot is going to make everything more gross.

And he can’t stop.

Can someone hold him? Please? He just wants that. Someone to soothe him and reassure him he’s going to be okay.

He’s so pathetic.

“... kid?”

Peter didn’t even sense another presence in the kitchen. He only gives a quick glance to whoever is there. Tony is wearing pajamas (or basically an old t-shirt and sweatpants), and judging by his tone, he sounds tired but worried.

“Mr. Stark! D-Did I wake you up? I-I’m so sorry,” Peter apologizes, only feeling more like shit with his stuffy nose and him desperately trying to dry his tears.

“Are you sick? F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you’re having a fever.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Peter sniffs. “I’m handling it.”

“Peter…” Tony doesn’t have enough strength to lecture him. The boy can still hear it.

“I just… tried to make hot chocolate milk. And I messed it up, ‘cause I feel like shit.” The teen’s hands are shaking, so he puts the glass on the counter before he breaks it. He inhales to filter out the anger, but the tears are burning his eyes. “Like, at first it was just my dumb nose and then everything started aching, but I thought it would go away if I just slept it off. Spoiler alert, it didn’t! I can’t even breathe well. It’s like there’s magma inside me trying to erupt. It hurts. But all I can think of is that I couldn’t make my dumb chocolate milk, and I hate that I’m even angry about that!”

He almost breaks down, figuring it’ll just scare Tony more, or maybe annoy him since Peter is frustrated about something so small. Peter is just being a stupid, whiny kid. He aggressively covers his eyes, both to clean his soaked face, and to make everything shut the fuck up.

“It’s stupid. Stupid. Just- stupid ,” he growls. He sniffs louder this time, since his nose won’t cooperate. “I’m sorry I woke you up with this. It’s fine. You can go back to bed. I’ll just…” he trails off and doesn’t elaborate.

“And leave you sick?” Tony points out how absurd it is to leave him here.

“Maybe, I dunno.” Peter crosses his arms, staring at the floor instead. Anywhere but Tony.

Despite this, the man doesn’t leave. He contemplates, then he approaches Peter slowly.

“I’m not gonna ignore your pain, kid,” Tony insists.

Peter remains avoidant. Though it’s like his mentor is reading him like an open book. Like he has the exact experience to handle this. The teen freezes when he feels two arms gently rubbing his, as if trying to warm them up. Tony must’ve noticed his trembling.

“You can call me when you need me,” the older man reminds him, not in a way to make Peter feel stupid.

“I-I’m not even supposed to get sick anymore. And I’m fifteen, I shouldn’t expect someone to babysit me.”

“Well, kid, superheroes get sick like everyone else. Thor did, Bruce did… even Cap did.” This time, Peter briefly looks at Tony, catching the resentment and grief in his expression. They’re replaced by tenderness. “They’re not stupid or weak for getting sick, and neither are you. And yeah, when we’re sick, we can’t handle things a ‘normal’ person can. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Tony still rubs Peter’s arms, until he squeezes both of his shoulders to reassure him he’s here and Peter’s pain is valid.

“Besides… it’s nice when someone does something kind for us, right? Even something as simple as hot chocolate milk.” Tony smiles, albeit with melancholy. “And I’d be more than glad to do that for you, because it’s important to you, and you’re important to me.”

His thumbs gently soothe Peter’s shoulders, which makes the boy release the tears more naturally, even if he tries not to. This gentle attention, the patience, the careful touches… this is what Peter wanted this whole time, right? This is what he’s been missing?

Peter starts sobbing, bawling. His chest hurts more than anything, more than the fever. When the calloused hand reaches the back of his neck, it pulls him close and Peter embraces it. He doesn’t want to get Tony sick, of course, but he can’t help clinging to his mentor and crying harder because of it. Tony rubs his back up and down, and it’s all so overwhelming. Peter feels so relieved to have this, but he also won’t stop mourning the fact he hasn’t had this in forever.

The loneliness, the longing… they’ve always been here. The sickness makes it all the more intense. Peter hates how clingy this feels like, and yet Tony doesn’t complain at how long it’s taking for the former to calm down. The latter even rocks both of them side to side.

Peter slowly quiets down to shaky breaths as Tony smooths his hair. The man hasn’t said anything this whole time. Peter realizes his shoulder is soaked now, probably filled with snot and tears.

“Sorry I got my germs on you,” the teen mumbles.

“It’s alright, kiddo. Everyone needs a good cry.”

Of course, Tony isn’t mad about it. He gazes at Peter with all the attention in the world. Concern is still there, sure, but he looks more relieved.

“Alright… I’ll get you some chocolate milk, then I’ll see if I have some enhanced medication ready for you. If not I can just make some, won’t take more than ten minutes.”

Peter snickers, “How are you so fast?”

“Well, I’m just that awesome.”

The teenager just rolls his eyes.

“You wanna go back to your room or you wanna stay on the couch?” Tony suggests.

“Couch.”

Peter can walk fine, so Tony rushes somewhere, only to be back with Peter’s pillow and blanket. After that, Tony makes the chocolate milk in no time, carefully handing him the cup.

“Careful,” the man warns him. Peter takes a sip. “How is it? Good?”

Peter hums, pleased. “Amazing.”

“Yeah.” Tony ruffles his hair. “I’ll be right back, okay? Call me if you need.”

“Okay.”

Obviously, Peter doesn’t mention it with how much Tony helps, but he does miss Tony while he’s gone. He already misses his presence and the soft touches. He’s definitely being needy, so Peter just stays quiet, ignoring his uneasiness.

Thankfully, Tony keeps his promise and returns with a pill and a glass of water that he got from the kitchen.

“This one should help with your fever. And luckily it’s also decongestant. You might feel sleepy,” Tony describes. He hands Peter the pill for him to take it, then the water to swallow it. Feels like taking any other normal pill, really.

Peter goes back to his chocolate milk, feeling its warmth inside him, which isn’t the bad kind like he was feeling earlier.

“If you feel any other side effects, you let me know. If you don’t feel better by tomorrow, we’ll figure things out, okay?” Tony smooths Peter’s hair, less teasingly.

“Okay, Mr. Stark.” Peter tries not to melt at the touch. He feels so embarrassed about his clinginess.

He finishes the chocolate milk all too quickly, because it’s just this good. Maybe it’s because Tony made it. Peter has some good memories of the past, of when things were fine, and he felt loved… times when he didn’t screw things up.

The bad spiraling thoughts are going to consume him again, and Tony seems to detect it since he stretches an arm for Peter to lie down against him. The teen just gives in and relaxes with Tony holding him. He can sense his mentor smiling at him in the meantime.

“Hey, kid?”

“Hmm?” Peter looks up.

“Whenever you feel bad in any way… you can always count on me.”

“Okay.”

“And when you need a hug, you can tell me, too.”

Peter blushes, not just due to the fever. “You… don’t mind me being clingy?”

“Of course not. I once read that the recommended amount of hugs per day is eight. For maintenance, at least. And twelve for growth.”

The boy snorts. “That’s a lot.”

“Yeah. But you definitely deserve more hugs, kid.”

“I guess so.”

Tony squeezes him a little, without it being suffocating.

“... I really hope I don’t get you sick, Mr. Stark,” Peter sighs.

“As long as this makes you feel better, I don’t mind, Pete. No one deserves to be sick and be left alone.”

Again, it seems to come from experience.

Peter doesn’t ask for more details.

He does want to apologize again for interrupting Tony’s already wild sleep schedule. But he knows Tony won’t mind.

“Thanks,” Peter says instead.

Tony adjusts the blanket so it covers him more properly.

“Of course, kiddo.”

It could be a plethora of things. It could be the chocolate milk that always calms Peter down. It could be the blanket. It could be Tony cuddling him, making sure nothing is going to tear them apart. It could be his patient words. Or all of these things combined. Either way, Peter is drifting off to sleep, knowing Tony will be here in the morning.

That’s really the only reminder he needs.

[naoa-ao3]

The Tape

SUMMARY: Gemma brings a tape home from school that makes her ears bleed. Cheryl asks John to get rid of it. Is there any chance he won't listen to it?

The phone rings and John picks up, hand twitching only a little. Most times when he get's a phone call it's something bad but he answers anyway and this time is surprised to hear his sister's voice on the other end.

He doesn't get around to see Cheryl as much as he probably should. Most of the time he just causes her trouble anyway.

"John, what do you think you're playing at?" She asks before he can speak, she sounds angry and he winces a little, unsure of what he's supposed to have done now.

"Gonna have to be more specific than that." He mutters.

"You bloody know what I'm talking about. The damn tape. I don't know where else Gemma would have gotten it from."

He get's annoyed now because he doesn't know anything about a tape. "What tape?" He asks. "She watch a porno flick or something?"

Cheryl makes a noise of irritation too. "You wish it were something that ordinary. It bloody hurt her."

And he just doesn't know what she's talking about. "Cheryl come off it, I'm all the way in London. I don't know what tape you're talking about. Now is Gemma okay?"

A huff. "Yeah, she's alright. Turned it off and she was fine again but she had all this blood coming out of her ears and then Tony listened to it and he started bleeding too."

"Jesus. . . Glen Campbell's greatest hits then?"

"It's not funny, she said she got it at school but I-"

"She didn't get it from me but I'll take it off your hands." John say's immediately, not knowing what this thing is but understanding and wanting it away from his niece and sister. "I can be by in a day or so."

A sigh. "You promise, John? I don't want this shit mucking up her life. You hear me? I don't want that."

"No, you're right. I won't let it."

He can hear her trouble and disbelief even when she doesn't say anything. "Okay, stay for dinner then? I'll make something up."

He nods. "Won't say no to that. I'll be there, Cheryl."

"Yeah, okay." She say's again. "Sorry I yelled. There was just blood and all coming down her face. No mother wants to see that."

"No of course not." And he knows his sister loves Gemma. Of course she does. She's a good mum. She was a good sister to him when it came down to it.

"So you'll come get rid of the thing?" She asks.

He nods. "Yeah, already there."

He hangs up and rubs at his face, feeling dark. He's tried so hard to keep this shit away from Gemma but it keeps finding her. Just like it found him only she's just a kid and she's young and innocent and it hurts that he can't keep it away from Gemma.

It hurts that Cheryl thinks he could have given Gemma the tape but then. . . Cheryl's dealt with his shit for years. . . who else would come to mind?

He get's the first ride out of London he can get and heads her way, thinking about all the songs that have ever made his ears bleed through the years. It's almost comical except that it isn't really like that. Not literal blood like what was running down the sides of his niece's face.

Of a little girl's face.

It's supposed to be just a figure of speech.

The ride takes forever and there's rain. Too much rain and the inside of the lorry he's managed to talk his way into is wet and cold.

The driver has a thermos of steaming coffee but he doesn't offer to share any and John can smell the burnt crap's stench floating next to the dank humidity of the cab.

The driver is snide. Probably picks people up so he can feel better about himself. He asks rude questions, smirks a lot but John just ignores it.

The ride is mostly silent.

Wet and silent as water droplets form against the inside of the window panes and jump out at him. The old leather stinks and feels gritty under him.

He get's off in Warrington and from there it's an easy trek to Cheryl's.

The familiar streets of his teenage haunts have changed. Progress and modernization have replaced most of shabby exteriors and old Victorian facades. It's surreal but then he doesn't come home much.

Cheryl greets him at her door, eyes troubled, face worried and he knows she's more upset than she wants to let on.

He hugs her anyway. "How's Gemma?" He asks.

"She's alright. You know how kid's are."

He nods and follows her inside.

There's school pictures on the walls of Gemma and a vase of dried flowers on the television. Cheryl's house looks normal. The weird stuff only brushes her life and he suddenly hates that this tape has invaded her home.

She puts on the kettle and sighs unhappily. "Thanks for coming on such short notice." She say's giving him an apologetic look.

There are lines around her eyes now that hadn't been there when they were kids. John feels like a kid around her again. He think's it's funny how you shrink up around family.

He isn't a kid though. "Of course." He say's.

This is the now.

She shakes here head. "I was out of my mind when I called you. I really was. I was so upset. There's no excuse for how I talked to you."

He reaches for her sleeve. "You think I don't know that?" He asks, trying to be comforting.

She smiles weakly. "No, I know you know." She say's and he sees her shoulders finally relax a little. "Gemma's going to be happy to see you." She say's.

He smiled and nods. "She at school, then?"

"Yeah. She's got good grades, you know? I'm proud of her."

"You should be."

She brushes her hair back and yet he can see the tension still there because everything isn't perfect with Tony and now she's got this to worry about. "Sometimes though, John. . ." She shakes her head and then smiles. "I'm glad you came."

He is too and he smiles gently back at her. "Any time you call, I'll turn up."

She laughs genuinely there. "Now don't go pulling my leg." She say's.

That hurts a little but he knows it's fair. He isn't totally reliable and she knows it but just the same. . . he means it to be true.

He sighs to himself and the kitchen is alright. Tony doesn't keep them living in splendor but it's alright.

"Everything alright on your end, John?" She asks.

He nods because it mostly is and what isn't there isn't time to say. "Think so." He say's.

"Good, you always seem to have a lot going on. I worry about you sometimes."

He appreciates that and looks down at the table, the yellow Formica is starting to show some wear now. "Nah, I'm alright Cheryl." He say's because it's easier than telling her all of the things she might not even believe in. "You don't need to worry. You got enough on your plate as a mum."

She smiles a little sadly. "Oh John you know it's not that easy to stop worrying."

He appreciates that too and sips his tea. "So what about this tape, then?" He asks. "What's on it?"

"How should I know? I didn't bloody listen to it."

He laughs a little. "Gemma say?"

"She was in shock, I think. If she even knew it in the first place." She fishes into her pocket and hands over a white cassette tape, shaking her head. "I don't even know how mums are supposed to know what their kids are up to these days." She say's. "I can't check everything she brings home from school. Remember when you had to save everything you got for a new record? It was vinyl then. This thing fits in your back pocket. I didn't even know she'd brought it in the house."

He takes the tape and turns it over curiously. "I remember." He say's, thinking back some years now.

She shakes her head. "We didn't have it perfect but. . . at least our music didn't make your ears bleed."

He laughs and wonders what's on the tape.

He think's he'd really like to know.

A symphony from hell? Some kind of muttered, arcane chanting? The possibilities were endless.

"Gemma should be back soon." Cheryl say's, looking towards the window and sighing. "I told her you were coming." She looks like she expects him to dart out the door.

He smiles, trying to put her eat ease. "Wouldn't want to disappoint, then."

Her eyes find him. "You're staying for dinner, aren't you? You said you would."

He raises his hands in surrender. "I meant it."

"Good because I've got a roast in the oven."

He looks towards the oven and nods. That sounds good. "Wouldn't miss it." He say's, feeling comfortable in her house when it's just the two of them.

He's not that far from where they grew up although Cheryl and Tony have managed to get themselves into a better neighborhood.

Cheryl sighs and looks at the clock on the opposite wall. "Tony should be off soon too. Do you have somewhere to spend the night?"

He glances towards the living room and raises an eyebrow. "If you wouldn't mind."

She shakes her head, smiling a little. "No, go ahead. Couch is yours."

He likes that and smiles too.

These are the easy moments, the moments when everything is working the way it should and if he ignores the reason for his trip, he's just a brother visiting his sister and her family.

He slips the tape into his pocket as the kitchen door opens and Gemma steps in, school bag thrown over her shoulder and shirt untucked.

He can remember shucking off school clothes the moment he was able to, the useless, oppressive uniforms were nothing once the last bell had rung. Once the doors had opened.

She stops and looks at him, eyes bright. "Uncle John!" She say's with delight. "Mum said you'd be coming!"

He lets her hug him and then she set's her bag down and starts working on a snack. "It's cause of that tape, isn't it?" She say's in a voice that's probably supposed to be sly. It tells him she's been thinking about it.

He nods. "Partly but also the chance to see you two."

She smiles and takes her snack off to her room, leaving the adults to talk and he raises his eyebrows at Cheryl. "She get's bigger every time I see her."

"You should come by more, then it won't be such a surprise."

He nods but knows he won't. Tony doesn't like him that much and he brings trouble. It's better if he keeps some distance, especially with all the weird stuff that tracks home after Gemma these days.

They talk for a little bit more and then Tony comes in, also through the kitchen door and the talk stays pleasant, Gemma pokes her nose back into the room too and eventually the kitchen smells like Cheryl's roast and John feels for a brief, fleeting moment like nothing's out of the ordinary.

He eats and talks with his family and manages to get along with Tony and by the end of it he's got his shoes off and is sitting on the couch.

Gemma seems unbothered by the tape but he supposes that it wasn't the weirdest thing she's ever encountered.

She talks about friends and school and asks pointed questions. She wants to know things he knows and he worries for what that means in the future.

When the lights go out he lays back and stares at the ceiling.

He wants to know what's on the tape. He absolutely wants to know what's on the tape.

He looks over at the stereo center against the wall and thinks about turning the down volume real low.

He glances down the hall however and thinks the better of it. It'd be his luck someone would get out of bed.

He pulls the blankets up to his chin and broods about it.

He really wants to know what's on the tape.

They'd said it was music.

He looks at the stereo center again and turns over on the couch. He can wait until he get's back to London.

He eats breakfast with them the next morning.

Gemma is dressed for school and Cheryl is in a bath robe and slippers.

Tony is already dressed for work.

"You're heading out today, are you?" He asks John, who nods.

"Well. . . nice seeing you."

It's awkward but John only nods again. "Same." He say's, getting an approving glance from Cheryl.

Gemma say's she wishes he could stay another night and he assures her he'll be back soon although he doesn't know when that will be.

Then Tony and Gemma are gone and it's just him and Cheryl.

"You be safe heading back today." She say's. "You still hitch hiking?"

He shrugs, guilty.

She shakes her head. "This is why I worry about you."

He laughs. "I'm alright. Never have any trouble."

That's not entirely true but he doesn't want her to worry at all so why tell her the truth?

She shakes her head again and sits with him. "It was nice having you in again." She say's, mug steaming in front of her. "Even if it was only for a night."

He shrugs. "I'll be around again."

She nods and sips her drink. "You're not going to listen to it, are you?" She asks suddenly, eyes on his coat. It's hanging over the back of his chair and he laughs.

"Of course not." He say's, heart speeding up at the thought of what might be on it.

She nods again and sighs. "I wish I believed that." She sounds like she really does wish it.

He grins. "Maybe it'll fall out of my pocket."

"Yeah, right into a tape deck."

He laughs again and it's good, sitting there with her.

He leaves around noon and hitches a ride all the way to Coventry and from there back to London, the tape burning a hole in his pocket.

He's run through all the things that could possibly be on the tape and come to the conclusion that it could be anything.

He get's inside and heads straight for the stereo in the corner.

His hands are sweating as he pulls the damn thing from his pocket.

He needs to know.

He shakes as he tries to fit the tape into the little slot, fucking it up a few times before getting it in and closing it.

He presses the button down and waits, hearing a faint crackle as the tape turns. It's almost unbearable and then a sickly sweet tune starts to emit itself from the speakers.

And they called it puppy love

He winces as a sharp pain starts to build in his ear drums.

It get's worse with each swell in the music and every line makes it so much more unbearable.

He clamps is hands over his ears and feels wetness there. He looks at his left hand and sees red.

He hits the stop button and the pain turns into a dull ringing.

He shakes his head, dizzy and nauseous now.

"Christ." He mutters, taking the tape out and looking at it.

Donny Osmond.

He shivers a little as the music stays in his head. He feels violated in a way and his hand itches towards the tape player again. . . just wanting to be certain but he stops.

His ears have stopped bleeding and he's afraid the song is going to be stuck in his head now.

He tears the tape out of the cassette and breaks the plastic.

Some people just like putting evil into the world and he thinks that whoever made this must have a particularly cruel sense of humor.

He throws the tape in the trash and tries to remember which day pick up is.

[imwall-e]

W&TWS || Sharing his secrets

Summary : He is a super-soldier of more than 100 year old, struggling to find a place in this new world. She is a young student of 23, struggling with life. But they know they can find comfort and help in each other.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count : 1458

Warnings : insecurities, anxiety, fluff

Series Masterlist

April 9th, 2021

The month of April had begun with the sun and warmer temperatures. Therefore, more people could be seen outside, enjoying this more than pleasant weather. And the Easter holidays were a week away. Everyone seemed really happy. However, Bucky was torn between opposite feelings.

On one hand, he was really happy that holidays were close because it would allow him to spend more time with Willow. But on the other hand, he was anxious that somebody would recognize him and tell her something. He wanted to tell her the truth about his past himself even if he feared her reaction.

A week earlier, they both agreed that he’d pick her up and they would dine together. James wanted to surprise Willow and take her to a nice and calm restaurant where they might discuss.

Having a few hours left before coming to Willow’s house, he called Steve to explain the situation and get some advice.

“You didn’t tell her about us ?” Asked the blonde, half-shocked, half-amused.

“I talked about everyone. I just didn’t tell her about the Avengers and everything. And especially not about the Winter Soldier.”

“Buck… you know that the President pardoned you. Plus, Tony and Nat did their best to erase…”

“Steve!”James interrupted him. “It doesn’t change what I did. Some people know. Some people recognise me. It is rare but it happens, and it’s the worst. I don’t want Willow to reject me, to talk to me like these people do when they realise who I am.”

“You’re James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier wasn’t you, it was Hydra, one of their creations. You didn’t have a choice.”

It broke Steve’s heart to see his best friend like that. He could see that Bucky was on the verge of tears. He knew his past will always haunt him, either on his dreams or on his everyday life. But he also knew that he found a purpose with his new enterprise. And with Willow in the Sergeant's life, Steve hoped that she would be a light in the darkness.

"We'll talk later." That's was all Bucky said before closing his laptop so violently that he broke it. Shit. He needed it for work. But at the moment, he didn't really care. He was angry. Against Steve. Against himself. Against everyone.

Crying silently on his bed, he couldn't stop the memories from taking over his mind. They led him to the day Steve asked him to train the new recruits.

A year ago Steve and Bucky were waiting in the training room. The Sergeant became more and more anxious as the minutes went by. It didn’t go unnoticed by his best friend.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I’m sure they’ll learn a lot with you. You know, you’ll also be great on missions.”

“I’m not ready to go back on the field. I’m not sure I’ll ever go back there. I want some change,” he admitted while checking his watch. “Weren’t they supposed to arrive ten minutes ago ?”

“Stay there, I’m gonna check. Maybe they didn’t receive the correct schedule.”

Steve left the room heading for the new recruits’ wing in the batiment. There were rooms for those who wanted to stay, and a shared living room with a kitchen.

Bucky was waiting, playing with his knife, but he quickly noticed that Steve was gone for longer than necessary. As he didn’t want to wait any longer, and was also worried, he decided to check if Steve was with the recruits.

It didn’t take long to find the area and Steve’s voice was getting louder as Bucky got closer. When he understood that the conversation was about him, he stopped and hid behind a wall to listen to it.

“You didn’t come to your training because Sergeant Barnes will be your instructor for today ?” Steve sounded angry and exasperated at the same time.

“Mr Rogers, you have to understand us. He’s an assassin, he…

“He was,” Steve interrupted the man who started to insult Bucky. “Hydra turned him into an assassin. They tortured him for decades. But you don’t seem to take that into consideration.”

“And you don’t seem to understand that we’re scared. It could still be a part of him, which means he could kill us at any moment. I don’t trust him and I want you to find someone else,” required a woman, followed by her colleagues.

That was enough for Bucky who didn’t want and didn’t need to hear more. He took his bike and rode for a moment. That’s when he decided to travel and start doing something new in his life. He didn’t share this with Steve first. Instead he went to Tony Stark.

The man who was also known as Iron Man forgave him for what happened. It took time but they surprisingly bonded really fast and a friendship was born. Bucky was really interested in new technology and progress in science while he was “gone”, and Tony was more than happy to help him understand. And also to talk about his own creations.

That’s how Bucky decided to start a communication enterprise. Tony helping him and also being an associate.

Present time The song All I Have To Do Is Dream by The Everly Brothers slowly woke Bucky up. He didn’t even notice he fell asleep. Then, he suddenly stood up and reached for his phone as he realised it wasn’t just any song, it was his ringtone. Willow was calling.

“Willow? Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“Okay, I was just a bit worried because you were supposed to pick me up half an hour ago and you weren’t answering. I waited and then decided to call.”

“I’m so, so sorry. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Is that okay for you? I promise I’ll make it up to you. We’ll order all the desserts they’ve got if you want.” He said that in one breather while rushing to put on his shoes and take the keys of his car.

“It’s fine, James. I’ll be waiting in front of the house. See you in a minute.”

“On my way, Sunflower!” He hung up and realised that he gave her a nickname.Thta came out so naturally. He liked that but at the same time he hoped that she hadn’t noticed it.

✪✪✪

As promised, Willow was waiting outside. Bucky parked his car and, like a gentleman, opened the door on the passenger side for her. On their way to the restaurant, he couldn’t stop apologising for letting her wait so long.

“James, I swear to you, it’s fine. It can happen to everyone,” she tried to reassure him. “You seem so tense. Are you sure everything’s alright ?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Perfect. And you’re perfect. And…”

“James ?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I have something very important to tell you, and it makes me so nervous.”

“Why?”

“It’s about my past and I’m scared you’re going to hate me.”

“Does it have something to do with the Avengers and the Winter Soldier ?”

“You know ?” James was getting more and more anxious. They arrived near the restaurant but none of them exited the car. Bucky couldn’t look at Willow.

“My friend Alex saw a picture of you and they love the Avenger. One of their biggest dreams is to meet them. They did so much research that I think they deserve a PhD about the subject. Then, they recognized you and explained The Winter Soldier’s story to me ; that it wasn’t really you and everything.”

“How did they find all the information?”

“I honestly don’t know, but they’re really talented for that. Anyway, I didn’t want to tell you because it had to be your choice to talk to me about that. But now that I see how anxious you are, I have to tell you.”

“So, is it the last time I see you ?” James’ eyes filled with tears, still unable to look at her.

“I hope not. James, it’s your past and from what I understand, you were brainwashed. You’re not The Winter Soldier. You’re James Buchanan Barnes, and I really like to spend time with you. The man I know is nice, cares for others and apologises a thousand times when he’s thirty minutes late.”

That made Bucky laugh and he finally looked at Willow, only to find that she was smiling at him and giving him a tissue so he could wipe off the tears from his face.

“Thank you, Willow. We should go to eat now, because I’m really hungry.”

“Same for me. I just thought you renamed me Sunflower.”

She laughed softly and that’s when he realised his feelings for her were growing stronger with every minute he spent with her.

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6

[izzysarchivedblogs]

Clint's always been a bit nosy, so he was going to wait for BORING BUSINESS WORDS to be heard before he would take Brandy away with him to go do something more interesting than eavesdrop on business call. BE POLITE, but it didn't sound like business and boyfriend needs (his) demanded to kiss Tony first anyways.

THE VOICE IS FAMILIAR. He's almost sure, that he had even heard the name KATE get tossed in there. SCARE TENANTS. That would mean apartment building or a rental of some kind. He knows Tony has properties, so it could be anywhere in the world.

CLINT? IS THAT YOU? ⸻ WHAT? ⸺ WAIT, THAT'S AIMEE.

❝ UHH. ❞ He looks to Tony in confusion, and than to Brandy as a reminder that he has to keep it together. WHY WAS TONY ON THE PHONE WITH AIMEE? That made no sense to him unless he met her those what, FIVE TIMES, he's been to his apartment and suddenly was friends with one of Clint's former tenants.

Before he can get a word in edge wise, Tony takes back over the conversation. KATE. HE SAID KATE. ⸻ WHAT THE HELL WAS KATE DOING IN THIS CONVERSATION? An overload of emotions hit him.

CONFUSION? Check. ANXIETTY? Check. ANGRY? Check. HURT? Check. FEAR? Check.

It's all there, and it's Brandy squirming in his arms, bapping at cheek and telling him BIBI that keeps all of Clint's cool together. HE HAS SO MANY QUESTIONS. What Tony says to Aimee to end the call, makes no sense to him.

KATE IS WHERE? ⸻ TONY IS CALLING KATE ⸻ HE'S BEEN CALLED A FIRE.

Clint looks down at Brandy, starts to bounce her up and down. ❝ I didn't know you were coming, Sweetpea, what a NICE SURPRISE. ❞ He tries to sound cheery, not at all pointed at Tony even if he is and h' thinking about walking out. DEAL WITH THIS LATER. Yet he's got a hot sheering emotion and Tony hasn't even explained himself.

❝ TALK. ❞ He demands, and brings a hand up for Brandy to her thing and latch her finger on like she liked to do. Flex his fingers, slap his hand. Sometimes drool.

DON'T BE MAD. ⸻ PLEASE, DON'T BE MAD AT ME.

He doesn't want to be. Clint absolutely does not to be after kissing Tony all last night; after they talked and stopped skirting around things. He had actually wanted to tell Tony, that he thinks this was better (not because of their relationship) but because what they were doing before was probably worse than being honest, than trying to be together and focus on Clint's sobriety. He was thinking, of talking to some of the regulars at AA about going sober while in a relationship; since one guy had mentioned he had been already been married and was still married to her.

HE WANTED IT TO WORK, HE WANTED TO TRY.

See, Clint thinks Tony was going to explain the KATE OF IT ALL as that had been his biggest issue was getting ahold of her. That's where he thinks this was going. IT ALMOST SOUNDED LIKE SHE WAS IN BED-STUY, AT HIS APARTMENT. How was he going to tell her that he had sold it, that their united fight against the tracksuit draculas was all for not? That he was possibly homeless.

SPEAKING OF THAT ⸻ IT'S A GUT PUNCH. TONY PUNCHES HIM IN THE GUT, IN THE CHEST.

His heart is pounding, and he feels DROWNED, overwhelmed. What the hell was he suppose to do with what Tony was telling him. HE BOUGHT HIS BUSINESS. Tony was right. Clint would hate himself, had already hated himself, was actively hating himself and feeling guilty about the damn thing right now. HE DOES NOT TAKE TONY'S HAND, instead he holds Brandy with two and steps away from Tony.

❝ AND KATE? ❞ He ask, and Brandy seem to be frowning and he sighs. SHIT. He's upset up, hadn't meant to speak loudly. ❝Brandy, sweetpea, 'm sorry. I'll use my quieter voice. You know when you get fussy, really upset with something, and want ⸺ and do kick, scream, and cry? Especially cry. That's what Bibi-birdy is feeling. ❞ He does lower his voice, looks to her and ducks his head, has her close. HE SPEAKS TO HER, but he spoke loud enough for Tony to hear too. In a way, he said what he was feeling framed in a way to explain it to Brandy (as it was easier) when the reality was he's telling Tony how he was feeling.

He's angry, and he could kick or scream, and probably cry. Especially cry. OVERWHELMED. He wants to know about Kate, he had just tried to call her not ten minutes ago. He hates the feeling and thought, like fuck, he could use a drink. He won't, not high risk enough (maybe, yet).

❝ You are going to explain Kate, I am going to hand you Brandy. I am going to. . . PROCESS this. ❞ He didn't know what he was going to do, but he needed to do something. ❝ And then we'll talk? Especially if Brandy is sleepy enough for a nap? ❞

As soon as Clint comes through the door, Tony goes into full panic mode. The problem is, he's on the phone, but not in a literal sense. There's no actual phone involved. So he can't grab the phone and turn it off speaker. He's stuck with Clint just hearing everything.

His whole body is tense when Clint takes Brandy off him and he kisses his cheek. He gives him a wave and he hopes that Clint isn't listening. He has everything pinned on the fact that Clint assumes this is business and will do the nice boyfriend thing and take Brandy out of the room without listening in to the business talk.

Because KATE IS TRYING TO GET INTO CLINT'S APARTMENT. And Tony knows first BECAUSE HE PURCHASED THE BUILDING AND DIDN'T TELL CLINT.

Clint's going to be so fucking pissed at him. There was no way he could save this if he hears what's going on. They just decided to be together and day one, Tony's tanked it because he as keeping secrets. He's always tanking relationships because of secrets. Why hadn't he learned his lesson yet?

And for a second there, it looks like Clint is doing the nice boyfriend thing and not listening in, and that Tony might be granted a reprieve so he can bring all this information to him on his own toys.

Then Clint turns back and Tony knows he's completely fucked.

"Clint? Is that you?" Aimee asks.

SHIT. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT. SHIT!

Okay. Deal with Kate first. Deal with Clint second. That's all he could do. "Aimee, if you know Kate she should listen to you. Tell her the truth. Clint hasn't been there for months, but that I'm going to call her. Tell her to pick up and I'll sort this all out. I gotta go put out a fire here first. Thanks for letting me know."

"Okay. Sure. Thanks, Mister Stark."

Tony turns his attention to Clint. "Um... so..." he said. Fuck. Clint was going to be so fucking angry with him. He was glad that Brandy was there because he knew that he would at least keep it together for her sake. He got up and approached Clint, holding his hand out. "Don't be mad. Please, don't be mad at me. When I came to get you that day when you were in your basement. You told me you sold your building and I knew that you would regret it. Especially if the new owners did something like put all the rents up or evicted everyone so they could redevelop and put up condos, you'd really hate yourself. I just thought if I bought it then when you had your shit together we could figure out what you wanted to do. I could sell it back to you, or you know - I don't know. I just didn't want you to have one more thing to blame yourself for."

[issdisgrace]

What about Jason Todd with a lover/enemy that is a raccoon themed thief? Rooftop rendezvous and Bruce being all like father like son lol

RACOON LOOK ALIKE

WARNINGS: Swearing

A/N: I know it's not my greatest work but i still hope you guys enjoy it

I was waiting on the roof of an abandoned church for Jason. I was seconds away from calling him and ask him where the fuck but before I could he appeared.

“Finally, there you are.”

“Sorry, I kinda got tied up with some shit.”

“Ahh, what did Bruce do this time?”

“Well, him and Damian were being nosy bastards asking where I was going. It was really weird. I got the feeling they know about you.”

“I’m not surprised Jay, Its been what 4 years they are bound to find out about me.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want them to know.”

“What so your ashamed of me know Jay.” I joked.

“No, no, it’s not like that. I just like having you to myself.”

“Hmm, I like having you to myself, too.” I say, before pulling Jason into a kiss.

“I love you so much, Jason Todd.”

“I love you too, Y/n L/n.

“Now what do you say we get out of here and go get subs at Toni’s?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

TIME SKIP

 When we were done with dinner, we headed back to Jason’s apartment. We got inside, and we were getting settled in when we heard shuffling coming from the livingroom. We grabbed our guns and went out to check to only find the half the bat family in the living room.

“What the fuck are you guys doing in my fucking apartment?.”

“Jason, we need to talk to you.”

“It could wait till tomorrow.” Before Bruce could respond, Damian rudely points me out.

“Todd, Whose the raccoon look alike?

“Hey, I do not look like a raccoon short stack.” 

“Damian, that’s rude.” Dick scolds.

“Frankly, who he is none of your guys’ business.”

“Says here that he’s Y/n L/n. The notorious robber and cop killer.” Tim says, while looking at his phone.

“Damn, Jay, you hear that I’m notorious.”

“Y/n, Love, shut up.”

“Dont tell me to shut up.”

“Your incriminating yourself, you dumbass.”

“What are they going to do? Take me to jail?”

“Yes, if I don’t have a say in.”

“Nah, they won’t all kick their ass, especially that little shit. Can you believe he said I looked like a raccoon?”

“Like I can see where he got it from.”

“JASON. Your no supposed to agree with him.” Before we can continue our little exchange of words, Bruce buts in.

“At this point, I just wanna know what you guys are doing together.”

“Jay, I didn’t realise he was stupid.”

“Hmm, imagine being ordered around by him.”

“I’m right here.” Bruce excellently points out.

“We know we just don’t care and to answer your question, we are dating.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Yeah, that’s why it was stupid to ask.”

“He’s right and now that you snooped in my personal life, get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Alright we’ll leave but ill tell you this Jason. You’re more like me than you want to admit.” With those words he and the others left as quick as they had appeared. Leaving Jason and me confused about what he meant. We stood in silence for a minute before Jason asked, 

“What do you think he meant by that?”

“I think he meant that you’re like him because you both like and/or liked people that have a connection to an animal. Like he had Selina, and she’s linked with cats. You have me and now I’m apparent a raccoon look alike. If that makes sense.”

“Yeah, I think I get what you're trying to say.”

[ryloriee678999]

Bittersweet (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Summary: you give your girlfriend one last call. (804 words)

Warning: major character death and stab wounds. 

Weakly you grab your phone to call Natasha. You smile when there's a bar of signal, it was lucky though because you’re in the middle of nowhere on some bench. 

You can't quite remember her number right now so you click on her contact, briefly smiling at the photo of her you saw every time you called her. You hold the phone up to your ear, your elbow right above the deep laceration slashed across your torso. The brightness from your phone is the only beam of light besides the one lamp post across from you. Everything else was pitch black.

911 wouldn't come in time and where you settled is like a ghost town. No one was around to see you bleed out and no one would come. So instead, you call your girlfriend in hopes to hear her voice one last time.

 The phone stops ringing shortly after, you barely notice. You didn't think she would pick up since it’s about 2 in the morning but she did.

“Hello?” She says. You can hear the tiredness and confusion in her voice. If it wasn't for the pain that filled your body, you might have felt bad about waking her up. “Hey,” you greet, as cheerfully as you can sound. It only dawns on you now how painful this is. 

Natasha sits up right away at the sound of your voice. The mission was non-contact so she was surprised that you were calling her. “Baby is that you? Is everything okay? How's the mission?.” You could hear how desperate she sounded.

“I just wanted to call, see how everything is, I miss you,” you respond, purposely ignoring her questions. It was hard for you to lie to her.

“I miss you too,” she sighs. “But you’re back tomorrow, right?”

You bite your lip to hide a whimper, another gush of blood stains your shirt. “Sorry, I still have a few things to tie up.” You were dying. “I think it will be a few more days.”

You knew Natasha was frowning, it made your heart clench She hated when you went away no matter how short. The mission was only supposed to last a few days and you should be coming home tomorrow if it wasn’t for the complication you faced. “So how’s everything back home?” You ask, just wanting her to hear her speak.

“Same shit as always. Training, paperwork, but I talked to Wanda and…” she continues on. For a second you bring the phone away from your ear to adjust the sweater that is wrapped around your body. It failed to compress the wound so you tightened it further with a grunt.

When you brought the phone back to your ear you heard her still rambling, something about a party. “Is everything okay?” She asks, her voice going from happy to concern in an instant. She must've heard you.

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe, hurts like a bitch,” you laugh. “ Anyway, what was that about a party?”

“Well Tony is holding something to launch his new products and he wants everyone there,” she explains, making it sound worse than it really is. “We should go.”

You feel yourself smile a little, “are you asking me out?” You tease, but feel yourself getting weaker right after. Even though it's the middle of summer, you feel so cold. You’d much rather be in her arms right now.

“Shut up, never mind.” You can visualize her rolling her eyes, wishing you were in bed next to her. “So are you coming with me?” she asks after a pause

You space out, her voice almost sounds like it's underwater. The only thing bringing you back is another sharp sting that felt like getting stabbed all over again. 

“lyubov? You there?” 

“Yeah I'm just tired, of course I’ll go with you,” you say. It would be a little far to say you’d rather die than go, but I guess that's the reality. “Why don't you go to sleep?” She suggested. “You have more stuff to do tomorrow, I don't want you doing it exhausted.” 

“Okay,” you mumble, fighting your eyes awake as black dots start to show up in your vision.  “I’ll see you soon. be safe, okay?”

“Yeah,” you pause for a second, thinking about what final words to say to her. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she responds with a smile. 

Your hands drop to your sides, letting your phone hit the ground as tears swell up in your eyes. You’re not afraid of dying, it was saying goodbye that was hard. You didn't have to think about it for too long though, your head started to go blank and all your pain numbed. 

You must have forgotten to hang up the phone because right before everything ends, you hear your girlfriend say her last words to you. “Goodnight, love.”

[emeraldiis]

Pillow Talk

A/N: i will never apologize for being horny on main

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: After an entire day of staring at you in that bikini, Loki is left utterly desperate for release. Good thing he sleeps with a lot of pillows.

Tags: masturbation, phone sex, pillow humping, needy!Loki, pining

Loki shifted on the bed, mashing his face roughly into the satin pillow case. It was nearly dawn, and he hadn’t slept. Even the tiniest hint of sleep had evaded him, and he’d tossed and turned enough to make his muscles ache in protest. With a frustrated growl, he rolled onto his back and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. This was never going to work.

He had no one to blame but himself for his insomnia. Really, it was pathetic, the way his mind had latched onto one silly little human and made her the object of his obsession. You with your silky hair and soft eyes, keeping him up until the morning hours. Your melodic voice rang in his eardrums, and every time he closed his eyes, he’d see that perfect skin of yours and wish it was pressed up against--

With a gasp, Loki swiftly brought his hands down to grasp the sheets in agony. He wished he could blame it on the fact that he hadn’t bed anyone in at least a decade, but he knew himself. Celibacy had never been an issue for him in the past; he wasn’t a teenage boy, he could control his needs. But you had him feeling like one all over again. The way he gawked at you like it was his first time seeing a pair of breasts nearly spill out of a way-too-tight tank top, it was downright shameful. You were just so innocent, so pure, and he longed to see that smile collapse into a pout as you whimpered against his lips.

Despite his best efforts, Loki could feel his cock throb in renewed need. It had been begging for release nearly all night, and Loki had successfully ignored it so far. He held steady in his determination in not giving in, but his resolve was slipping. Today has been especially tortuous. Tony and his goddamn insistence that Loki participate in team bonding. A day at the beach, one which Loki spent lounging in the hot sand shielding his eyes from the blinding sun. You had splashed around in the waves with Natasha and bounced around in a bikini that seemed specifically designed to torture Loki. The bottoms had shifted themselves to ride up quite a few times, and Loki had taken pleasure in watching you reach back with slippery fingers to pull them out of your ass.

Loki’s cock throbbed again, almost violently this time. He moaned softly into the open air. The sound was pained, and Loki felt his hand begin to drift towards the string of his pajama bottoms. They were silk, and because Loki had chosen to forgo underwear, the soft material felt like heaven against his swollen erection. Before his fingers could slip inside to where he needed them most, Loki ripped them away in defiance and turned onto his side, tangling the blanket between his legs as he rolled. The pressure of the thick comforter into his crotch made Loki suck in a surprised breath. His hips twitched upward of their own accord and Loki’s eyes fluttered in pleasure.

Loki could feel his will dissolving with every jolt of pleasure that swam up his spin. His mind spun with images of you: you curled up against him, reaching back with your dainty hand to pull him closer to you, encouraging him to grind against your backside. As if he was in a daze, Loki grabbed one of the many pillows adorning his bed and shoved it between his legs. The firmness of the pillow was so much more satisfying than the blanket, and Loki groaned.

It was over, he had accepted defeat. Loki was about to hump his pillow like an animal and it was all your fault. He thought of that wet bikini sticking to your skin, your breasts bouncing as you jogged back up the beach to him and breathed out a “what’s up” like he wasn’t about to cum in his swim trunks just from watching you. As the memories danced through his head, Loki’s hips began to roll in more deliberate motions. With every thrust, his cock pressed up against the soft material of his pants. Loki could feel the pre-cum wetting the silk, but it only served to amplify his pleasure as the damp fabric clung to his skin.

The buzzing of his phone startled Loki out of his fantasies, and he nearly wanted to throw the thing against the wall. Tony would get him a new one, as he always did no matter how many times that Loki had insisted they were unnecessary devices. As much as he wanted to let it ring, Loki had learned that calls at this hour usually meant an unexpected mission, and he’d be back on house arrest if he didn’t answer. Loki reluctantly leaned over to his bedside table to grab the vibrating object, keeping the pillow between his legs. His heart came to a near stop as he saw your name illuminated on the screen.

A few moments passed as Loki stared dry-mouthed at the caller ID, wondering when he had fallen asleep. Because the only explanation for you calling him in the middle of the night was that he was dreaming. Sure, you had texted him the occasional internet video that you thought he’d enjoy, but had never called him. And certainly not at five in the morning. With a hard swallow, Loki hit the “accept call” button and waited.

“Hey, Loki?” Came your tired-sounding voice. It wasn’t as gorgeous when muffled by the phone static, but it gave Loki shivers nonetheless.

“What is this about?” Loki tried to sound as irritated as possible, figuring that would be the proper reaction to receiving a call this early. The truth was that he was elated to hear your voice, and was disgusted by himself. A mortal, making him this weak in the knees, it was absolutely pathetic.

You were silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t sleep. I-I’m not really sure why I called you, I’m sorry for waking you up. I’ll just--”

“Wait!” Loki burst out before you could end the call. His loud voice echoed back at him in the silent room and he cringed, hoping that no one had heard him. Loki bit his lip anxiously, uncertain of what to say to keep you on the line. “Um, I was awake. I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Oh, I guess that’s good. Well, not really good that you can’t sleep, I mean good that I didn’t wake you.”

Loki chuckled at your awkward ramblings. Norns, you were so cute. “Don’t worry, pet, I know what you meant.” As the words left his lips, Loki’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d just called you. Pet. It had been a slip of the tongue, but it brought forth a whole new round of fantasies. He couldn’t help but imagine about what it would be like to own you, to grab you by your pretty face and push his cock between your lips over and over. Absent-mindedly, Loki began to move his hips against the pillow again. He had to bite down on his tongue to keep from gasping. As quietly as he could manage, he put the call on speaker and set the phone down beside him so he could lie back on his side and resume his earlier activities. Loki knew it was so, so wrong to do this while you were none-the-wiser, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so worked up for so long and now it was like his body had taken over, hell bent on getting the relief it needed.

“So, why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Oh, just lost in my thoughts, I suppose,” Loki said as his eyes fell shut. His voice was the slightest bit strained, the soft drag of his pants against his cock making it hard to focus.

“Yeah, same here.” You sighed into the phone, and Loki heard a bit of rustling as you presumably got more comfortable. “I have trouble sleeping a lot, actually. I guess I just get lonely.”

A heavy weight of guilt sank into Loki’s chest. Here you were, opening yourself up to him, and he was trying to get off to the sound of your voice. He was truly depraved, that was for sure. But fuck, the tired rasp to your voice and the small sighs you let out were sending him sky high. His mind was running wild with fantasies of you under him, you in his lap, you up against the wall as he fucked you into it. Loki fought to sound normal as he responded to you. “I understand. Most beings are very social creatures, we need company to--ah!” A particularly rough thrust of his hips had caught Loki off guard as the mind-numbing pleasure rocketed through his body.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, pet,” Loki said, panting as he forced his hips to still. “Just stretching.” It was a lame excuse, but Loki was too far gone to come up with anything better. His body quaked as he tried to keep still, like his own muscles were attempting to disobey his brain. Everything in him was screaming out for more. Cum, you need to cum. Once again, Loki was forced to give in as his hips resumed their grinding. The pillow itself was now damp with how much he was leaking, and it felt amazing.

The phone was quiet, and Loki could almost hear how hard you were thinking on the other end. And then: “Loki, are you...masturbating?” Your voice trailed off as you said that word. The sheer embarrassment was evident in your tone, and Loki was almost astounded at how bold you were. Not many humans had the nerve to just up and ask something like that.

Even through the shock of being caught, Loki could not find it in him to be surprised that you had caught on. You had always come across as intelligent to him, it was foolish to think he could fool you with a half-hearted excuse. Still, it was beyond humiliating to have been called out so brazenly. Loki saw no point in denying it; you would not have asked if you weren't sure. “Yes,” he replied, voice cracking as he froze in place for the second time. Despite the embarrassment, Loki’s erection did not not falter. In fact, it seemed that he only got harder. This mortal would be the death of him.

“O-oh!” You seemed surprised, like you hadn’t expected him to come right out with it. “I’m so sorry, I guess I interrupted you, huh? Shit, I’m sorry.” How absurd. Loki was the one shamelessly rubbing himself against a pillow while talking to you, and you were the one apologizing.

Loki found it intriguing that you hadn’t hung up immediately upon learning of his actions. You hadn’t seemed disgusted at all, just apologetic for interrupting his activities. Loki wasn’t sure if your lack of repulsion was what caused it, or if it was simply his need clouding his judgement, but his mouth began to move before he could stop it. “It’s excellent for sleep. I highly recommend it for nights like these.”

There was no sugar coating it; that was a proposition, no matter how poorly disguised it was as simple advice. “Um,” came your faint reply. Loki’s face burned as he pictured the look of horror you were probably wearing at the moment. And then he nearly swallowed his tongue as you spoke again. “Yeah, I tried earlier. Wasn’t really...working.”

A new gush of blood found its way into Loki’s cock at your admission. He couldn’t help but imagine you writhing on your bed, soaked in sweat and your own slick as you tried desperately to get to that crescendo of pleasure. His blush had somehow grown even stronger, and he couldn’t recall the last time he had even blushed at all. This mortal was killing him, you were his executioner and he was begging for you to pull the trigger.

“That’s quite unfortunate,” Loki managed through his reverie. He was still frozen, almost scared to begin his motions again for fear of cumming on the spot. His cock twitched in time with his racing heart, occasionally dripping precum into his pants. Loki was a mess, but he could not bring himself to care in the slightest. All that mattered was the arousal screaming under his skin and your intoxicating voice in his ears.

“Yeah. Sorry, should I go? And let you, y’know, finish?”

Loki racked his brain for an excuse to get you to stay. It was maddening, how quickly you had ruined him. Seduction was one of his many talents, as was manipulation. In the past, he would have had no trouble at all talking someone into his bed and onto his cock, but you were different. Every flirtation died on his lips the moment he was in your presence, and it was all he could do to form complete sentences as you turned his knees to jelly.

After an excruciating period of silence as Loki thought, he finally spoke. “It would be unfair of me to abandon you in favor of pleasuring myself when you cannot do the same.”

This time it was your turn to stay quiet. Loki waited anxiously, half-expecting you to just leave anyway. He had already come to terms with your disinterest in him, you were probably just being polite. But...you had called him. There must have been at least a slight attraction for Loki to have been on your mind after attempting to get yourself off.

“Maybe we could…” There was a tremble to your voice as you trailed off, and Loki held his breath as he waited for you to finish. Whatever your suggestion ended up being, he was ready to enthusiastically agree. Anything that involved you and pleasure was incredibly enticing. “Maybe we don’t have to hang up, then.”

Loki’s eyes went wide. Did you mean…? An involuntary moan fell from his lips as he shivered at the thought. “I would, mm, not be opposed to that idea.” Loki’s body had won over for the final time that night and his hips began to move again. After restraining himself for so long, feeling that delicious friction once again nearly overwhelmed him.

“I don’t really know how to do this,” you said. “I can’t really believe I actually asked you that.”

“Would you like instruction, pet?”

“That might help, yeah.”

Loki began to wonder if he was dead, and this was his version of Valhalla. Whatever the case, he was going to ride this high for as long as he could. Everything else seemed to fade into the distance: the chirping of birds outside as the sun rose, the hum of the traffic down below, all of it meant nothing. It meant nothing because you were on the other side of the phone asking for Loki to tell you how to touch yourself. Loki took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of himself; he needed to let you catch up before he could allow himself to lose control.

“I want you to get undressed, and get comfortable.” That was a simple enough command, Loki figured. If he started slow, maybe he could reign in his pathetic neediness and focus solely on your pleasure.

“Okay, I can do that.” The speaker went quiet as you presumably settled onto your bed and slipped out of your pajamas. “Now what?”

“Touch your breasts,” Loki said. His breathing was heavy, but even as he settled into the role of your instructor. “Rub your fingers across them, tell me how it feels.”

You sighed happily. “It feels really nice. Can you tell me what you’re doing?”

Loki was a bit ashamed to admit that he was currently grinding into a pillow, but figured there was no point in lying. “I’m, uh, I have a pillow between my legs, and I’m rubbing against it.”

A whimper burst from your lips. “Oh, that’s so hot.”

“Is it?” Loki asked hesitantly. He didn’t feel very attractive; slick trousers and sweat coated skin, fighting hard to hold it together.

“Yeah, fuck. Can I touch myself, please?”

Loki wanted to drag it out a bit longer, to tease you, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say no to that pretty voice. Especially when you asked so nicely. “Go ahead, pet. You’re such a good girl.”

There was a faint slick sound, then a drawn out moan. Loki groaned in response, the sound extracting a full body shiver from the god. He had never heard such alluring sounds of pleasure, you were just so far above any other being he had ever met. “That’s it,” he murmured in encouragement.

“Feels so good,” you said, voice growing high pitched. “Shit, I’m not gonna last too long. Ah, fuck. Been needing this all night.”

Loki sucked in a breath and began to thrust with more fervor. His eyes nearly rolled back at the pressure and his thighs squeezed around the pillow. “That’s okay, darling. I, oh--” Loki cut himself off with a strangled moan as his pleasure mounted. “I need to cum, too.”

For a moment, panting and whimpered moans were the only thing coming through the speaker. Loki prayed that you were as close as he was, because the coil tightening in his stomach threatened to snap at any moment. It was all he could do to keep from allowing his release to overtake him before you got yours. “Please, pet. I want to hear you cum,” he ground out as his eyes fell shut.

“So close,” you whined. “Loki, I’m gonna cum.”

He couldn’t help it. Loki’s control disintegrated as he began rutting into the pillow like a wild animal. His hips moved in sharp, quick thrusts, and quiet moans left his lips with every movement. ‘Cum--fuck, mm--cum for me, love.” He was going to cum, he couldn’t stop. He just needed you to finish first.

The phone crackled as you let out a sharp cry of pleasure. Loki listened in a trance, trying to memorize every noise that left your lips as you climaxed. Your sounds spurred him on, and he found himself tipping over the edge, cumming harder than he had in a long time. Pleasure whited out his vision, and Loki could faintly hear himself whining your name in a broken voice. He didn’t get the chance to be embarrassed about the noise; his cock pulsed in dizzying waves of euphoria, spurting out rope after rope of hot cum. It shot into his pants, soaking them all the way through and seeping into the pillow. It wasn’t until the last drop had left his body that he was finally able to stop the groans that had been bubbling up from his throat.

As the pleasure subsided, Loki sagged against the bed and took in the mess he had made. His pants were ruined, no doubt about that. And the pillow? Well, it would most likely need a few good washes. But he felt sated, too relaxed to even care about the cum drying to his thighs.

“Are you still there?”

Fuck, he had almost forgotten that you were still on the phone. “Yes,” he croaked out. “That was…”

“Amazing,” you finished for him. Though you couldn’t see him, Loki nodded in agreement.

The bed suddenly felt very large and very empty after the daze of Loki’s orgasm faded. He found himself wishing that you were here, so he could wrap his arms around that perfect waist and bury his nose in your hair. It was an incredibly foreign feeling; Loki had never been one to cuddle after sex. But then again, everything about you was different. You were special. Loki opened his mouth, ready to invite you to his room, but something stopped him. What if this had been just a spur of the moment thing for you? What if you only saw him as a tool to get yourself off?

“Would it be weird if I came down there?” You asked, startling Loki out of his thoughts. There you went again, calming his anxieties before he even had the chance to feel them.

A relieved grin broke out on his face, and his heart sped up again in excitement. “No, I would very much enjoy that.” And for the first time in a very long time, Loki felt wanted.

[lovelybarnes]

baby blue- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, tony stark bruce banner, steve rogers, sam wilson warnings: child bucky, language, this is long. why is this so long about: requested by @cherry-season (apparently can't tag you)! bucky turns into a baby/toddler and is clingy a/n: okay so i know virtually nothing about three-year-olds. can you tell? thank you so much for requesting!! I had so much fun writing this <333

[@tylard-blog1]

bucky’s day wasn’t particularly fantastic to begin with.

he was already exhausted when he woke up in the early lights of the morning, his nightmares had kept him up all night-- which you theorized was due to the mission the day before that took place in one of the same hydra bases bucky had been held in. you had frowned when you realized it the day of, turning your attention to bucky and making sure he was okay with it because if he wasn’t, you would make sure someone else took care of it. he had insisted it was fine, even though the next night proved him wrong. you had done what you could, running your fingers through his hair and humming lightly until you fell asleep and he refused to wake you up, resigning himself to a sleepless night.

his morning started with his flesh arm reaching out to feel your side of the bed, hoping to find your soft, warm skin to pull you closer, but instead being met with the unkind sheets that missed the gentleness of your body. he had frowned when he realized you had already left for a meeting with some important hotshot in space with carol (you couldn’t find a better excuse to go get breakfast at your favorite alien restaurant with your favorite aliens) and wouldn’t be back for a solid few hours too long. groaning, and with no real reason to stay in bed for any longer without the excuse of getting to feel you for a few more hours, he dragged himself out of bed.

it didn’t get much better from there, because he was greeted with the sight of sam eating the last bowl of the last box of cereal in the whole damn tower because everyone rejected to go grocery shopping. since bucky refused to eat any of the frozen breakfasts tony loved so much and the stark kid swore were “the best thing ever,” he grunted at sam and walked away without eating, knowing he’d regret it later when his stomach would growl and you would immediately know he skipped breakfast.

for some unknown reason, tony had found out about bucky’s lack of things to do, and with a few winks and manipulative large-worded engineering phrases, convinced him to join him in the lab, which bucky had only really been able to see through the clear glass that separated the lab from the rest of the tower, and from the occasions where he would take food and drinks to you while you locked yourself away inside, building something alongside tony.

being inside, so close to the various machines and objects bucky cant begin to figure out the purpose of, his memories of being in school and at the top of his math and engineering classes bubble to the surface, filling him with the pride he remembers having every day at school. the thought that he could probably understand everything if you or tony explained it to him passes through his mind and urges him to ask tony to do just that, but tony beats him before he can get the chance.

bruce is eyeing them wearily from the other side of the lab, attention mostly on the test tubes in front of him. he gives bucky a smile when he comes in, but seems to ignore him for the most part until tony shows bucky to bruce’s work station, pointing out a blue liquid in a test tube marked TESTING. bruce’s neck snaps to them when tony open his big mouth, “you know, y/n was actually supposed to test something out for me today,” tony begins innocently, a suggestion laced in his words that bucky catches but decides to ignore because of the high he feels from understanding the equations scribbled on the clear glass, “do you know where she is?”

bucky narrows his eyes at him, then looks up at the clock, realizing it’s still a while before you get back, “not even on earth,” he recipes blandly, slyly sneaking a glance at the liquid for any indications of what it could be.

tony sighs dramatically, his shoulders sagging, “oh no, how do i test this now?” bruce shoots tony a warning glance that is blatantly ignored.

bucky’s shrugging before he can help it, the reminder that since you were going to do it, what could be the harm if he did? “i could do it.”

tony claps, “great!” he gestures to a door behind him, “please go in there to sign non-disclosure agreements and wash your hands.”

bucky’s shoved inside before he can fully understand the implications of his stupid offer.

-

the thought of asking the basic questions he should have asked before he agreed to test an unidentified liquid comes to bucky nearly an hour later, when the small vial of weird blue liquid sits in front of him, waiting to be drunk. tony and bruce sit in chairs a couple of feet away, clipboards in both of their hands, and interested expressions settled on their features.

“what does this do again?” he asks, squinting at the vial that he doesn’t notice tony isn’t looking at, furrowing his eyebrows when tony waves him off, “something super smart. no side effects or anything.” bucky’s eyes flit down to the little vial again, before they nearly bug out of his head at the humongous laser that is rolled into the room, “what the hell is that.”

“ah,” tony grins, bouncing from his seat to stand next to his invention proudly, “this is what you’re testing out.” bucky cocks his head at the man, “i thought i was drinking blue water. y/n was going to drink blue water.” tony shakes his head, adjusting some dials on the machine, “yeah, no, it was this. pretty sure i told you.”

“you didn’t-” bruce is looking at tony in concern, about to tell him to slow down so bucky has a chance to think all this through again and maybe ask if there is any chance the laser will melt him, when tony clicks a large red button and a bright white light clouds bucky’s vision just as he sees the clock on the exact same time he saw an hour ago, realizing the clock in the billion-dollar lab is broken, and you’re probably getting home any second.

“tony!” he hears bruce yell before his vision goes dark.

it’s only a second until he can pry open his eyes again, a hand curling into a fist, ready to pound stark into tomorrow when he can suddenly feel the nails of his hand digging into his palm. the surprising feeling of it where his vibranium arm should be forces him to look down at a small arm, fully skin and thin. he looks around, noticing his surroundings suddenly have grown very large around him, and the sound of his voice is higher when he tries to speak again.

“what the f-” he mumbles, cutting himself off when a sudden memory of his ma yelling at him to wash his mouth out if he wants to talk like that floods his mind, and he stares down at himself, eyebrows furrowing when he spots his short stature and the tiny hands and feet that look up at him. realization floods him like a wave, raising his chin at the two, tall, gobsmacked men in front of. “was that supposed to happen?” bruce asks quietly, nodding slowly when tony shakes his head, “no.”

there’s a light knock at the door, your hand pushing it open before anyone can stop you, and your tired face peeks in, a glowing smiling adorning your face and your eyes searching for your boyfriend, “hey, do you guys know where bucky is-” your voice cuts through the stunned silence, pausing when you catch the little boy’s eye. at first, you stare at him, your eyebrows pulling together as you get a good look at the familiar cerulean of his eyes and scan the clothing you’d seen on bucky before. for a second, everything is silent, bucky’s eyes are wide and staring as yours bore into them, searching for something you’re nearly touching until you gasp, “bucky?” you choke, reaching for him when he nods, his legs already trying to reach you as fast as they possibly can but they buckle. bucky realizes just then how old he must be now. “oh, baby,” you murmur, gathering him up in your arms before he can fall to the hard ground of the lab. “what the hell did you idiots do to my boyfriend?” you demand, turning to the two scientists who are going over tony’s notes.

bruce glances at tony, tilting his head at him as if to say him. you roll your eyes, not having any more information than when you asked, “tony?” you growl, walking over to the man, not missing the way little bucky’s hand grabs onto your shirt.

“it didn’t- that wasn’t supposed to happen,” tony defends weakly, a lazy shrug pulling at his shoulders. your eyes flash with velvet red, and, without moving a finger, tony’s pulled in front of you, wrapped in red swirls bucky can’t help but gawk at.

“fix it.” you order. tony nods, pursing his lips, “we’ll do that.” bruce looks a little taken aback, looking up from tony’s scribbles and equations. “i don’t think it’ll last more than a day,” he offers helpfully, “whatever it was tony was trying to do wasn’t either.”

bucky’s eyes start to droop, which he assumes is an effect of the sleepless night he just had on his infant body, something that usually wouldn’t affect him in his one-hundred-and-six-year-old self. he hums when he realizes the irony, leaning his head against the welcoming crook of your neck and catching your attention. you turn to him for a moment, softening a little before turning back to tony and glaring at him, “fix it.”

-

steve catches you when you walk out of the lab, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he spots the toddler in your arms, “holy shit, that looks exactly like bucky,” he breathes, scanning the dark mussed-up hair and stepping back when bucky opens his eyes. from next to him, sam looks from bucky to you, “did you two have a kid and not tell anyone, because this-”

“is bucky. that’s bucky.” you interrupt, looking at the toddler, “tony messed up with something and… this happened, i don’t completely… bucky’s a baby.”

steve raises an eyebrow, squinting at his best friend, “ha,” he laughs, “wow, he looks exactly like his pictures. he must be about three years old.” bucky blinks at him. “his ma said he was chatting up a storm at that age, though,” steve informs, looking back up at you. sam grins, “has he said anything? i kinda want to hear if he still sounds old.” bucky frowns at him, his pout deepening when sam bursts into laughter, “his grumpy face is the same!”

you look at your boyfriend, tilting your head and smiling a little when you realize he’s right, “you’re cute,” you coo now that you get a good look at him, “you’re so cute,” you murmur, poking his nose with your finger. bucky can’t help the blush that comes to his cheeks. but he slaps away sam’s fingers, scowling at him, “no.” he argues, “no.”

sam frowns, “no old man voice.”

“i hate you,” bucky says to sam, and you laugh, “i think we should leave for now. i need to figure out what will make three-year-old bucky not as grumpy.” sam looks at bucky’s furrowed brows and the same two little lines between them, his eyes flickering back up to yours, “i think that may just be a bucky thing.”

-

you bring bucky to the living room, sitting him down at the edge of the couch and crouching in front of him, watching him and his little crossed arms, bottom lip jutted out against his own will. bucky isn’t used to the emotional control of a child who’s three and can’t control the frustration that’s coursing through him at the moment. the only thing he knows for sure is that he doesn’t want you to leave him again.

“bucky?” you start, looking deep into the wide blue eyes that let you know it is bucky you’re speaking to. “what do you want to do? are you hungry? d’you want to sleep?” bucky shakes his head stubbornly at you, “i want tony to fix this.”

you sigh, “i know, baby. i do too, but until he finds a cure to this, you’re gonna stay small for a couple more hours.” he pouts at that, and you smooth your thumb over his cheek, “no pouting. we can do whatever you want, buck.”

just as he’s about to reject any idea you have, his stomach rumbles loudly, directing your attention to the arms that guiltily cover up his middle. “bucky... did you eat breakfast today?” you query, a lecturing tone sneaking into your words. “sam ate my cereal,” bucky grumbles, crossing his arms.

“bucky!” you exclaim, standing up to turn to the kitchen, “that’s no excuse. i told you you needed to eat--” you’re barely three steps into the kitchen when you hear the pattering of his feet towards you, grubby hands pawing at your legs.

“don’t leave,” he whines, hugging your ankles and sitting down on the floor, “you left all morning,” he mumbles, smushing his cheeks against your calf.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, bending over to brush away the hair that falls over his eyes. “c’mere,” you murmur, reaching down to pick him up again and bounce him on your hip while you head to the kitchen. “what do you want to eat?” bucky thinks about it for a minute, before smiling, “i want pizza and ice cream.” you frown at him, “i don’t think three-year-olds can eat that. actually, i don’t think anyone should.”

after consulting google on what three-year-olds should eat, you have bucky’s head resting on your shoulder, refusing to let you put him down even as you made him the mac and cheese he had agreed to, still a little upset over the fact you wouldn’t let him eat all the other things he wanted. the only time he let you not carry him was when he was eating, still insisting you sit right next to him to watch as he smeared cheese all over tony’s expensive table.

“okay,” you whisper breathlessly after watching him eat his third bowl of the meal, “i think that’s good.” you shove the dirty dishes in the sink, washing bucky’s hands and wiping at him cheeks with a warm cloth to get the mess he managed to create off. “did you forget how to eat?” you wonder aloud when you finally fnish cleaning him up, watching his small shoulders shrug.

“what do you want to do now? anything you want,” you propose.

“i want you,” he says, reaching his stubby arms out, “cuddles. ‘m sleepy,” he yawns, making grabby hands at you when you take too long to pick him up. “bucky,” you chuckle, complying with him and bringing him into your chest, where he leans his head on your shoulder. “you sure you don’t want to play or something? you don’t want to…” you trail off, trying to think of what three-year-olds do, “walk or read or something?”

bucky grunts in your ear, his eyelids already closing again, “cuddles,” he repeats, balling your shirt up in his little hands.

“okay,” you sigh, bouncing him gently while you walk to your shared bedroom. you pick up a stuffed animal you brought for bucky from one of your most recent missions, “did you sleep last night? is that why you’re so tired?” bucky hums, cuddling further into your chest when you lay down with him on top of you. you hand him the little dog plush, pressing a kiss to his head when he takes the gift, hugging it with you. “honey, i’m sorry,” you frown, gently threading your fingers through his short hair, humming the same song bucky sings to you when you can’t get to sleep. it doesn’t take long to lull him into the calmness of rest.

you only wake up when the weight on you is suddenly multiplied, completely taking your breath away, “bucky!-” you exclaim, rolling from underneath him to meet his closed eyes. you shake your head with a light laugh, drawing a strand of hair behind his ear before you press your lips to his cheeks, snuggling in with him again, “sweet dreams, darling,” you murmur, placing the stuffed animal he dropped on your dresser.

[cazimagines]

Perfectly exasperating

Synopsis: You really disliked Zemo, but one person you disliked more? John Walker. After bonding over how you disliked him with Zemo, you have the unfortunate situation of running into John. He flirts, insults, and hurts you and Zemo is ready to put him in his place.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Tags: Use of swear words, John Walker being a dick, soft Zemo, protective Zemo

Author’s note: I was not intending this fic to come out as long as it did. This was one of the ones I had been putting off to write other stuff till I finally pulled myself around to writing it and ended up getting really into it. Funny how that happens.

Masterlist

Sequel

Part 3

Part 4

“Would you care for a Turkish delight?”

You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance, refusing to even look at him. Instead of forcing your eyes to focus on a spot in front of you, not moving them in the slightest. Zemo waited for a few moments before sighing and turning away from you.

“You’ll eventually have to talk to me, y/n” he exclaims as he walks over to the kitchen side of the room. You were sitting in the safe house Zemo had provided. There wasn’t much to do, just sit and wait till the funeral started. Zemo sought to communicate to you to keep you two occupied, but you didn’t want to talk with him, so you didn’t. You just sat on the settee, staring at the sofa opposite you while Zemo walked around looking through the cupboards for food.

You were pissed when Bucky revealed he broke Zemo out of prison.

The avengers had been your family. Whenever you needed them Steve would be there to offer you advice, Tony there to make you laugh. Nat there to beat up whoever required it. Everything was wonderful in your life. For once. And he had ruined it.

He caused the family you loved to split, hate each other, and that left you alone. So alone. Losing both Tony and Steve made you more mad at Zemo. He robbed the last years you could have spent with them, so yeah, no wonder you refused to talk to him.

He loved to annoy you, though. Any moment he got he was beside you, creating sarcastic remarks about what was happening, trying to joke around with you. Trying anything to communicate with you. The worst of it was when he insisted you had to be his date on the mission in Mandripoor. Feeling his arm wrap around you, a kiss to your temple, the smell of his cologne flooding you, drawing you in. It pissed you off knowing how easily you fit into the role of his date. Yet you knew deep down why. Every time he made a snide remark, you had to bite your tongue to stop making one back. Every time he tried to joke with you, it took all your effort not to snort. You hated him and everything he does, yet you could sense a fondness growing for him, just a slight one, in the deepest corner of your heart. Left there to be locked away. Never acknowledged.

“So, the new Captain America, huh? What’s he like?” you hear Zemo ask, leaning on the counter of the kitchen table, his eyes burning into the side of your head.

You feel bile rise to your mouth as he spoke.

John Walker.

John fucking Walker.

If you hated Zemo, you despised John Walker. Just thinking of him brought a scowl to your lips. Steve meant everything to you. He was a father figure to you. He stood for all you believed in. He was your hope, your light in the darkness. And John Walker seemed to tarnish it. You wouldn’t have minded him if he was a different mascot for America. If he became America’s new hope. It was the fact that they called him Captain America. That he had the shield. The title belonged only to Steve. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is what he was doing. Him being called Captain America felt like a spit on Steve’s memory. People would forget him, everything he did for the country he loved. They would only focus on John Walker, and you detested that.

You didn’t blame Sam for giving away the shield, unlike Bucky. You could understand why he did it. That shield held such a responsibility, such a legacy it seemed impossible to ever live up to. No, you blamed the people who took the shield away from the museum. Without Sam’s permission. They should have asked Sam. But of course they didn’t care. They didn’t care at all.

“I see by your reaction that your impression of him isn’t a pleasant one,” Zemo says, bringing you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Have you met him?” he asks

You try to hold back your opinion, but John Walker made you so frustrated, you knew if you didn’t rant about him you would burst.

“Yes. He’s a dick,” you spit out

Zemo quickly straightens up, surprised you actually answered one of his questions.

“Oh? Are you finally speaking to me.” he inquires, walking around the kitchen counter towards you.

“Don’t push your luck” you mutter, side eyeing him as he sits down opposite you. Sam and Bucky were out leaving you alone with Zemo. At the moment you were all waiting till the funeral. Zemo claimed there were a few hours to kill before everyone had to gather. Sam and Bucky decided to check out the town, make sure they knew it well in case a situation occurred where we had to dash. They had forced you to babysit Zemo.

“No, no, I like to hear you talk. Please, if talking about how this new Captain America is a dick is how I get you to speak to me, then let’s continue.” Zemo says, pouring out a glass of whisky for you and him. He holds the glass out to you, an eyebrow raised. You sigh, grabbing the glass out of his hand and drank, feeling the warmth creep up your throat. Zemo chuckles as he watches you, leaning back on the sofa, his arms resting on top of it.

“My, my. The man must be terrible if just the thought of him is making you talk and accept drinks from me,”

“He’s so infuriating! He thinks because he is Captain America he can stick his nose in other people’s business!”

“Ah, so he is one of those people. Doesn’t understand boundaries. How rude,”

“And get this, he got annoyed at us! Telling us we should stay out of his way when he is the one getting in our bloody way!”

“No” Zemo fake gasps

“Yes!” you exclaim, going into a rant, “I can’t even bear to call him Captain America. He doesn’t deserve to be called that. His actual name is John Walker. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is exactly what he is doing! And how he talks to me as well. He’s so condescending, treating me as if I am a kid while trying to compliment me and act like he’s all that in front of me,”

Zemo’s eyes narrow and he places the glass down on the table between you two, “You mean he flirts with you?”

“If you could call that pathetic excuse flirting. I suppose. It pisses me off though,”

“I can imagine. He sounds nothing like what Steve was. Nothing like his legacy,”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes, watching Zemo curiously. “I assumed you hated Steve”

“I never hated him. No. I can admire what he stood for, I just find unrealistic. All superheroes are flawed. Innocents will consistently be collateral damage while superheroes are allowed to exist.”

You stare at Zemo, amazed. Not realising the silence you were making. You had always thought he hated Steve. It always seemed that way. Yet he didn’t? Knowing he didn’t hate the guy you always viewed as a father figure mattered to you. And you don’t know why.

Zemo stared back at you. He was studying your eyes, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He didn’t realise what he thought about Steve would have affected you, but it appears he was wrong.

“Don’t worry y/n we’re back and guess what! We found your fav-” Sam shouts, opening the doors of the room and strutting in but he pauses, noticing you and Zemo staring at each other from the sofa’s. “What’s going on here?”

Zemo is the one to pull out of the eye contact trance, smirking as he looks over at Sam, “We were just discussing John Walker.”

Bucky who had followed Sam in grounded at hearing Zemo utter that name. “Perhaps you two would like a drink and join us in considering how much of a dick he is?” Zemo asks, raising his glass to them.

A few hours later you walked down the street following Zemo to find his associate. You didn’t appreciate how secretive he was being, but you understood it. He had many people who wanted to get him, and the second he wasn’t useful to us. He would be doomed.

“It’s too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” you hear a whiny voice shout. Peering up, you notice John Walker and his sidekick ‘Battlestar’ or whatever jogging down the steps towards you.

“Ah! How did you find us now” Bucky shouts with his arms raised, striding towards them.

“Come on. You really think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention,” his friend responds.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” John mutters angrily

Zemo, who you were walking besides, turns his head to you, “I understand what you mean by infuriating”

You chuckle as John looks angrily between you two, “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,”

“He did that himself technically” Bucky replies, and Zemo grins at you, as if bragging about it.

“Aw, this better be an unbelievable explanation-” John Walker exclaims, reaching up to you.

“Hey take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam suggests, interrupting John.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo reveals to John Walker, his seductive accent sticking out from the rest of them. He tries to walk past John. You, Bucky and Sam follow, but John stops him, placing a hand on his chest.

Zemo glares ahead, disgusted at John for even daring to touch him.

“Well, where” he says, getting into Zemo’s face

“All we know is, it’s a memorial so we are going to intercept her there,” Sam adds, trying to defuse the tension.

Zemo grabs John Walker’s hand and pushes it off him, striding forward again, and you jog to catch up with him.

“See why I call him a dick now,” you whisper

Zemo smirks, looking back at you, “Yes. He’s perfectly exasperating”

“What? No. Wait. No! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop. Okay?” John exclaims running forward and stopping you all in your tracks again after something Sam had said. “I think we are way past reasoning with her”

Zemo just stares ahead, fed up with John while you groan in annoyance. Not being able to even bring yourself to look at the man in front of you.

They argue for a few moments while you and Zemo stand idly to the side, Zemo glances at you rolling his eyes making you giggle. You smack his arm slightly trying to get him to stop making you laugh, but that only makes Zemo chuckle along with you. Eventually they calm John down but he glares over at Zemo, “We will deal with you later.”

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion” Zemo says, gesturing with his hands. He walks ahead, searching for his associate while John Walker moves beside you. You try to pick up your pace, but he keeps up.

“So working with a criminal now. Not very avengery like. I thought Zemo hated Steve. I wonder what Steve would think of you working with him,” he mutters peering at you.

“Need I remind you-you are also working with him now,”

“Come on, darling, don’t be like that,” John responds grinning, placing his palm on your back.

“Get your hand off me” you growl scowling at him

“Most women would fawn over me” John cockily resorts, still not removing his hand

“She asked you to remove your hand” you hear Zemo state, glancing over you see he had stopped walking forward, turned around and was now glaring at John. “Do I need to remove it for you?” he says angrily.

John frowns at Zemo. Finally, taking his hand off you and striding up to Zemo. Zemo tilts his head, his jaw clenching in fury as he stares at John.

“You are nothing but a dirty criminal. Don’t think for a second you can talk to me like that,”

“I will when you are being rude and disrespectful towards a lady,”

John scoffs, peeking over to you, then back to Zemo. Everyone else was standing to the side, not sure if they should intervene or not.

“What did she suck you off or something?”

Chaos ensured.

Bucky and Sam had to leap forward to stop Zemo from launching onto John while Battlestar had to hold John back. “Too far man, too far” he muttered to John

Zemo was snarling at John, his teeth bared in rage. His hair had fallen loose from their usual position and was hanging down over his forehead, giving him a more wild look. The vein in his neck stood out, twitching. His eyes were raging with fire as he looked at John. He kept trying to push past Bucky and Sam to get to John, but eventually gave up knowing it was futile.

You were standing at the side, shocked that John would have the ego to say something like that and at Zemo’s rage towards John for saying it. John adjusts his head. Not looking you in the eyes, but looking in your direction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of said that”

Pulling your senses together, you walk up to John, glaring at him. “Yeah, you damn well shouldn’t have. You’re a dick. Nothing like Steve. You never will be,”

John wrinkles his nose in anger, frowning at your remark. You walk over to Zemo now that Bucky and Sam had let go of him. You give him a nod, showing your appreciation, and he nods back, though still glaring at John.

“Who I choose to associate myself with is none of your business. Who I choose to suck off is none of your business. Perhaps you can go fuck yourself and learn a bit of decency,” you spit at him.

A brilliant thought crosses your brain for another way to twist the dagger of your dislike into John. You reach out and grab onto Zemo’s hand, clasping it.

The action causes everyone to turn wide eyed to you. Including Zemo. He glances down at your hand in his then back to yours, surprise in his gaze but he immediately covers it up turning back to John smirking. He turns to behind himself, then back to the group.

“My associate is up ahead,”

You all turn to look forwards and see a little girl staring at you. Walking forward again, gripping his hand, Zemo nods to the girl as you all approach.

“Hello my friend,”

He holds out some money, a lot by the looking of it, and says to her, “This is for your family”

The girl hastily snatches it, obviously in need of it, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm a bit, seeing how kind Zemo was being to her.

“Can you show us the way?”

She beckons with her hands and walks forward. Zemo looks back at you, nodding to make sure you were okay, then follows her.

“What the hell” John murmurs from behind.

Following the girl, she leads you to a building. She turns, pointing inside a doorway, and runs inside not to be seen again.

“Karli’s in there,” Zemo tells the rest of the group. Sam replies and heads inside to talk to her while John suddenly grabs Zemo’s arm and yanks him against the machine on the wall.

Zemo moans as he is shoved into it, the hard outer piece hitting into his chest roughly.

“Hey. You’ve got ten minutes” John shouts to Sam as he takes out a pair of handcuffs and attaches them to Zemo.

“Really” Zemo mutters as John cuffs him to the machine.

“Then we are doing things my way,” John declares ignoring him

“Aggressive” Zemo jokes, though from his eyes you could still see the anger he harbors towards John.

He twists his head to watch John stride forward, staring at Sam, then back to him. “But I get it”

You wander over to stand by Zemo as you wait for Sam to talk to Karli.

“This day has brought a lot of changes. This morning you refused to say a single thing to me and now just moments ago you were holding my hand,” Zemo speaks quietly to you.

You shoot him a glare, “I did that to agitate John,”

“Sure, that was the only reason” but you knew from his eyes he didn’t believe you. They sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you.

“That cuff must bother you” you mention glancing over at them.

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy cuffs, in the right setting of course,” he quips.

You turn on your side, looking at him, your lips curling into a smile. If we are going to play that game, you thought.

“Oh, what setting would that be?”

Zemo’s smile deepened, enjoying seeing you play along, “I’m sure you would like to know”

“Do you have to do this here!” John exclaims, glaring at the two of you. You quickly step back from Zemo, forgetting that you two had company. Your eyes snap to Bucky’s with worry, but he wasn’t looking at you. He glared at the ground, not seeming to care what was happening between you and Zemo.

After that Zemo tried to engage you in conversation again but you effectively ignored him, going back to how you were treating him earlier, which you knew was frustrating him.

John was looking down at the shield, then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, panting. Both you and Zemo glanced up, watching him cautiously. You glanced at Zemo and he stared back, confirming you were both thinking the same thing about Walker.

He got up and started shuffling towards the doorway. Both you and Bucky eyed at each other for the first time with the same recognition in your eyes. You leave Zemo’s side to walk over to where John was.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea,” John mutters as he paces around. Zemo watches him like a hawk while you and Bucky stand side by side, arms crossed.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Sit tight,” Bucky replies.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me,” he spits back, pacing around.

“He knows what he is doing,” you reply

There’s silence for just a moment. You watch as John turns towards you and walks fast, hitting his fist against the shield, “I’m going in”

Bucky walks forward and places his hand on John, stopping him from moving further.

He tries to antagonise Bucky, trying to make him guilty for what could happen to Sam. And you could tell his words were influencing him.

“You will not be going in till ten minutes are up,” you state sauntering over to them

“Oh, so the whore has something to say,” John spits out

In the back, Zemo growls, tugging on the cuffs that connected him to the wall. You feel the outrage prick up on you as John’s remark.

“Don’t call her that” Bucky says, glaring at John

“She’s been openly flirting with the terrorist over there, so yeah, I think it’s appropriate to call her that,” John bites back

You rush forward, attempting to punch John in rage, but he was able to sidestep you and brings the shield up, connecting it harshly to the side of your head. Pain soars across your face as you fall down onto the ground. You groan, your eyesight going dark around the sides and black patches covering parts of what you could see.

“BASTARD” you hear someone shout with a beautiful accent. From the floor, you can’t make out much of what is going on. Someone with a metal arm attacking another guy. A man with a shield being attacked by a man in a trench coat. It was all too confusing for you. You just wanted to sleep.

You could feel yourself fading in and out. Your eyes begging to close. You could hear shouting. Someone talking.

Your head was raised. Someone was holding it in their hands. Your vision is blurry but as they get nearer your eyes could focus on them. Beautiful brown eyes, messy brown hair, cute thin lips. It was him.

“Y/n!?” Zemo shouted at you, “Y/n stay with me”

“My head hurts” you mutter to Zemo as he lifts you up, placing you against the wall. Slowly your eyesight came back, and you could see your surroundings. Only you and Zemo were left.

“Zemo, where is everyone?” you ask turning your head, but in doing so it makes you feel incredibly dizzy. You groan as Zemo places a hand on the side of your face to stop you moving.

“They went after the Sam,”

“I need to help them!”

“No, you need to stay here and recover,”

You look over at the wall then back to Zemo, “How did you get out of the cuffs?” you ask

“Ah well…” Zemo says and glances down at his hand, your eyes follow and widen seeing his hand, bruising covering it, his thumb sticking out at an odd angle.

“You broke your hand to get out!?”

“Well, I couldn’t let him get away with saying those things and hurting you,” Zemo mutters, smiling slightly but you could see the pain flickering in his eyes, “I gave him a well-deserved punch in the face”

You chuckle at the thought. Leaning forward, you kiss him lightly on his forehead, a gesture of you wanting to ease his pain. You move back just in time to see him looking at you, surprised, before your vision faded.

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik @wonderwoman292

[masterofmunson]

look after you (1)

TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam asks you to join him and Bucky on a mission in Madripoor. When you get injured, Bucky feels the need to remind you more than once that he’s supposed to look after you now that Steve’s gone.

Warnings: tfatws spoilers, language, violence, blood, grief, angst, major pining

Word Count: 6k+ 

Author’s Note: Here she is!! I’m really excited to see what you guys think! This is my first Bucky fic in AGES! I decided to make this into a mini series since this fic is so long haha. Please let me know what you think. Comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

You hadn’t seen Sam or Bucky in several weeks. You were still adjusting to life post-blip. It had been a long five years for you and just seconds for them. You were no longer the bright-eyed and bushy tailed recruit. You’d grown into your position amongst the established and experienced Avengers. Now, it meant nothing. 

Tony’s gone. Steve’s dead, Natasha too. The Avengers had officially disbanded. You felt lost and confused, still blinded by your grief over losing them. You had nowhere to go, so you just floated from place to place as needed. 

You were laying low and a shell of the person you once were. You had no one to look towards anymore. Bucky went his separate ways and got some sort of footing in New York City with the pardon he was given by the government since his return to the states. You checked in every now and then with him, but you didn’t want to slow down his progress so you distanced yourself from him. 

You know he feels some sort of responsibility towards you. Steve did too, and you suppose now that he’s gone, Bucky feels the need to take his place. It doesn’t matter that you’re no longer the naive 23 year old he met in Berlin all those years ago. It doesn’t matter that there was something lingering between the two of you before he turned to ash. You’re a grown woman now and war and politics has hardened your soul. 

He needs to move on from you. The version he has of you in his head is gone, dead. He wants a fresh start, and you can’t give it to him. 

Sam checks in with you once in a while. He asks you how you’re doing and you respond the same each time. “Same shit, different day,” you laughed lightly. 

He knows better than to ask you to join him on his missions with the military. You’re not in the right headspace to return to the field, least of all if it meant that you were representing the US government wherever the fight was. 

Now that John Walker has the shield and has been branded the new Captain America, it gives you all the more reason to stay away. If he had so much as just breathed in your direction, you’d kill him and rip the shield from his grasp and return it to Sam. 

You ignored all emails and phone calls that had to do with John Walker. He wanted your blessing on live television, as if that meant anything. Yes, you were close with Steve, but you’re not an original Avenger. You just caught his eye during training one day and he took you under his wing. John Walker just wanted to create a bridge between the two of you since Sam and Bucky were obviously out of the question. 

You were the first person Sam called when he told you he was giving up the shield. You didn’t ask why. You knew he had his reasons and you respected him to accept that whatever the reasons were, they were good enough. 

So, when Sam called in the middle of the night, you picked up the phone without a second thought. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up and fumble for the light on the nightstand beside you. 

“Sam? You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?” you asked, yawning into your phone. 

Sam curses in your ear and apologizes quietly. “Sorry. You would think with all this traveling, I’d remember time zones are a thing,” he laughed softly. 

“What is it, Sam?” 

“We’re in a bit of a tight spot. We could use your help.”

Your brows pinch together. “Who’s we, Sam?”

“Me and Barnes.”

Your heart jumps inside your throat. How the hell did Sam manage to rope Bucky into whatever he’s doing? The last you heard, Bucky wasn’t allowed to go on government missions until his therapist thought he made enough progress to do so. You know he’s nowhere near the progress he wants to be, so how is he with Sam? 

“Jesus, Sam. You know he’s not in the right headspace to go on missions!” There’s a heavy pause between the two of you before you relent. “Where am I meeting you?”

“Latvia. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

You hang up quickly and hurry out of bed. After so many years of getting up at odd hours for emergency missions and the like, you’re not surprised that Sam asked you to meet him in the middle of the night. You grab your duffle bag and stuff all your belongings back inside. You travel lightly, and now it definitely seemed to work out in your favor. 

You’ve spent the last couple of weeks in a small town just outside of Helena, Montana. It’s nice and quiet and you’ve really taken the time to reflect on your life since things started going back to normal post-blip. The locals are nice and hospitable, and no one asks you about Steve, Tony, or what you thought of John Walker. You hope it had something to do with the fact that they didn’t know who you were. You certainly hoped that was the case. You’ve kept your head down and tried your best to blend in. 

You go hiking quite frequently and take drives through the mountains. It’s nice and relaxing, a far cry from what you’re used to. You’ll definitely miss it, and you have second thoughts about meeting up with Sam, but you push them away. Steve abandoned you both, and you wouldn’t do that to him. 

It takes you several hours to get to the closest international airport and by the time you arrive, the sun begins to rise in the distance. You hurry through the airport security and send Sam a quick update that you’re about to board your flight before you settle in your seat and fall back asleep.

....

You sleep through the entire flight. You blame it on your ability to sleep anywhere due to the number of missions you have under your belt. You’re wide awake when the plane lands and you’re quick to pull out your phone and send a message to Sam that you’ve made it safe and sound to Latvia. 

Your legs are stiff and sore when you stand up for the first time when it’s time to leave. You pull your duffle bag from the overhead compartment and slowly make your way to the front. It takes you nearly an hour to get through customs and now you’re just anxiously waiting to see Sam. 

When you see him waiting for you at the baggage claim area, you grin as your eyes meet. You hurry over to him and drop your duffle bag to the floor as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s warm and tight and it’s exactly what you need. Sam pulls away first and reaches for your bag, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you walk out of the airport to his car. 

You stop walking when you notice two figures near a very fancy yellow car as you and Sam near them. Sam keeps walking and you take slow, tentative steps. You know one of the figures has to be Bucky, but Sam never mentioned a third person. 

“Sam, I thought you said that it was just you and Bucky,” you said cautiously. 

Sam stops in his tracks and lets out a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. It makes your heart race and you swallow the lump in your throat as they begin to come into focus as they near the two of you. “Y/n, before you get angry, I just need you to know that this wasn’t my idea. Believe me when I tell you that he is the last person we would ask for help,” Sam replied as his eyes went from you to the two people approaching.

“Who is he?” you asked through gritted teeth. 

“Ah! Y/n, good to know that your flight went rather smoothly. It is good to see you again.”

No. There’s no way. You must be dreaming. Hemlut Zemo is not standing right in front of you. He is in prison. He is behind bars for the crimes he committed. The two men that you're closest to wouldn’t jailbreak someone as atrocious as Zemo. There has to be an explanation. It doesn’t make sense. 

“What the fuck is Zemo doing out of prison?!” you hissed, looking between Bucky and Sam, demanding an explanation. 

“Y/n, honey, I can explain, just please get in the car,” Bucky pleaded, reaching out to touch your hand. 

You glare at him and take a step back. “Are you out of your mind, Bucky? You break him out of jail because you need him, is that it? Do you remember what he did to you, because I certainly do!”

Bucky frowns and lets out a deep and heavy sigh. He looks over at Sam. “Did you fill her in at all?”

“No!” you shouted. “I can speak for myself, James! Someone better start talking and tell me what the hell is going on!”

“We don’t really have time for this right now,” Zemo interrupts, “we really must be going. I’m sure Sam and James can fill you in in the car.”

You glare at the Sokovian terrorist and snap at him. “Shut your mouth, Zemo.”

He raises his hands up in surrender and takes a step back. Bucky towers over you and this time you let him take your hand. He squeezes it gently and pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You’re tense and fuming as he holds you. 

His mouth finds the shell of your ear and despite the wave of anger flowing through your body, it sends a shiver down your spine. Bucky whispers, “I hate to say it, but Zemo’s right. We have to go. I’ll explain on the way, I promise.”

You huff childishly and turn your head away from him as he kisses your temple. “Fine. If he steps out of line, I’ll kill him.”

Bucky laughs and takes your hand and walks you to the car. “Get in line, honey. Sam and I have first dibs.”

You resist the urge to smile and Bucky opens the door for you as Sam tosses your bag in the trunk and climbs into the front seat. Bucky slides in beside you and he tells you everything.

He tells you about their first encounter with the Flag Smashers. He tells you about how the leader and a few of her followers have taken a newer version of the serum that runs through his veins. He tells you that she plans on giving the serum to more people to build an army and that you have to stop her. 

It makes your heart stop. You hadn’t really been keeping tabs on the Flag Smashers. Now, looking back, you probably should have. There’s still a lot of unknown variables to account for and it looks like the boys are taking it one step at a time, and apparently it starts with a trip to Madripoor. Zemo chimes in every now and then as he drives and it makes your blood boil that you’re forced to listen to what he has to say. You hate that he has the upper hand and is keeping valuable information hostage. You want to strangle him. 

After a while, Zemo pulls into a private airport. Bucky helps you out of the car and grabs your bag from the trunk as the four of you walk towards the jet just off the runway. You had no idea just how rich Zemo was. Now that he’s out of prison, for now at least, his arrogance returned back in full force in addition to his pompous attitude. 

You board the plane in silence, ignoring every word coming out of the Baron’s mouth. You settle in the back of the plane and ignore Bucky’s stares as you look out the window. You’re too angry to engage in conversation. You don’t care that Zemo insults Steve’s legacy. He’s gone, dead, what do you care? Yes, you wanted Steve to be happy, but he abandoned you. He abandoned Sam and Bucky. 

Zemo rambles on and on. “People like Steve become symbols, icons. Then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” he turns to address Bucky directly. “You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”

Silence fills the space and for a moment, you feel a reprieve. That was until Zemo mentioned the Winter Soldier. 

 “We can’t go into Madripoor as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You immediately stand up and protest, storming to the front of the plane. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t let you use Bucky, not again. There has to be another way.”

Zemo clicks his tongue at you and shakes his head. A smug graces his features and you lung at him, wrapping your hands around his throat. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Bucky leaps to his feet and tears you off of Zemo, dragging you to the back of the plane behind the curtains to give the two of you an illusion of privacy. Your shoulders shake with rage and Bucky’s hands caress your face. 

“You can’t be him. He’s not you anymore. You don’t have to do this, Bucky. Please,” you begged, clinging to his hands. “I can’t let Zemo control you again.”

Bucky’s touched with how protective you are over him. He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly against him. Your fingers grip the back of his shirt and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“Honey,” he whispered. “I have to. I have to do this so we can stop the Flag Smashers from getting the serum. It’s for the mission.”

You huffed against his chest. Now you’re really regretting your decision to help Sam. You would’ve said no if you had known that it meant watching Bucky turn into the Winter Soldier again, even if it wasn’t real. 

You don’t know what to say. He won’t change his mind. Bucky’s just as stubborn as you are and he’ll do anything for the success of the mission, just like Steve did. 

You pull away and return back to your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare into the back of Zemo’s plush leather seat. Bucky trails behind you and squeezes your shoulder. You shrug off his touch as he takes the empty seat next to yours. 

“And, I’m afraid that where we’re going doesn’t take too kindly to women who are…. how do I put this…. strong willed,” Zemo said. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky barked, jumping to your defense just moments after you did the same for him.

“Selby will see Y/n as competition. We can’t have that happen. She’ll have to stay behind.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m just going to just sit here and do nothing,” you snapped. “I’m coming with. I don’t care if I have to pretend to be meek.”

Zemo turns to look at you. He’s challenging you. You both know it. He’s pushing your buttons and it’s working. He smirks and leans against the armchair. His eyebrows raise and he asks, “Even if it means pretending to be a prostitute?”

Your gaze doesn’t falter and you ignore both Sam’s and Bucky’s protests. It falls on deaf ears. You don’t care, as long as you’re with Sam and Bucky and they’re safe. “Yes,” you answered without a second thought. You’ve done worse things than pretend to be a sex worker. It would be a piece of cake. 

Zemo grins, letting out a soft laugh. “It looks like you’ll be joining us after all then, Y/n.”

You scoff at him and look out the window. Bucky drags you from your seat once more and pulls you behind the curtain. You look away from him and he reaches to squeeze your hand. 

“You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove,” he whispered, brushing the top of your palm with his warm and calloused fingers. 

“You don’t either,” you mumbled back. 

He smiles softly at your retort and pulls you into his arms. He holds you gently and cards his fingers through your hair. You hum quietly as he holds you. 

“Touché, honey.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you before you lean back to meet his gaze. His blue eyes pierce through yours and it makes your heart race. You pull away and rub your palms against your thighs. 

You disappear behind the curtain once more, leaving Bucky behind. 

…

When you arrive in Madripoor, you’re dressed in an outfit that leaves little to the imagination. The dress has a plunging neckline that settles just below your naval. Your chest is barely covered and your boobs threaten to slip over the fabric. You’re dressed for the part, that’s for sure. 

Zemo is the first one to look at you when you return from behind the curtain. He whistles at you and it makes your skin crawl. 

Bucky shoves Zemo harshly and grips his chest tightly, snarling in his face. “Watch your mouth,” Bucky hissed, shoving him into one of the chairs. 

He turns to look at you and you reach to squeeze his hand. You pull him away from Zemo and whisper softly, “It’s alright, Buck. Take a deep breath.”

He grits his teeth and shakes his head, and does what you ask. “I’ll kill him. If he does that again, I’ll kill him.”

You laugh softly and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I don’t doubt you will, Buck.”

The two of you trail behind Sam and Zemo as you leave the plane. A sleek black car is waiting just off the runway and you follow behind to the vehicle. When you settle into your spot in between Buck and Sam in the back, Zemo turns to look at the three of you. 

“It’s imperative that we don’t break character, no matter what. If you do, we’re good as dead, understand?” 

You scoff and roll your eyes as he looks towards you. “Crystal,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He turns to face the front of the vehicle and silence fills the car. 

Suddenly, a number of motorcycles surround the car as you drive into Low Town. you make sure to keep your eyes forward and Bucky reaches for the hand on your knee. He squeezes it tightly and you do the same. 

Reality is now just setting in for you. This is the first mission that you’ve been on since Steve went back to the 40s, and since Tony died. It had been three long months since Tony saved the world and brought everyone back that was taken five years earlier. You know that three months isn’t long, but it still makes you nervous. You haven’t been training to keep things from going rusty. You had no desire to. 

Bucky leans into you, his mouth near the shell of your ear. “You okay?” 

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, just a bit nervous. I’m a little out of practice. This is my first mission since Steve left,” you mumbled back, squeezing his hand again to keep you grounded. He does the same in return. 

“It’s alright. I have your back. I’ll protect you, promise.”

A small smile finds its way onto your face and you shake your head at him. “You know better than anyone else than to promise something like that before a mission, Buck. It’s bad luck,” you teased. 

He laughs too and the car stops in what you guess is the downtown area of Low Town. You take a deep breath and Bucky does the same. You squeeze his hand one last time before his hand falls from your grasp. He opens the door and climbs out. You follow close behind and find your spot next to Sam. He gingerly wraps his arm around your waist as you walk into the Princess Bar. 

Electronic music blasts through the speakers and the bass vibrates through your chest. You press against Sam as you push through people to get to the bar. The smell of drugs and alcohol is suffocating as you walk and ignore the stares sent your way. They’re not staring at you, but Bucky, who walks just a step behind you like a looming shadow. 

“Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” Zemo asked Bucky in Russian. 

It makes your blood boil and Sam squeezes your waist tightly, a reminder that you must not break character. You hate it. You hate that Bucky has to pretend to be the person he’s worked so hard to distance himself from. Bucky is not him. The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore. That part of him is gone, dead. You only hope that Bucky reminds himself that the Winter Soldier isn’t him anymore as he pretends just feet behind you.

You stand in front of the bar counter as the bartender approaches. You keep your mouth shut as Zemo exchanges words with the man, briefly bringing Sam, the Smiling Tiger, into the conversation. Your eyes find Bucky’s and your heart jumps inside your throat. His eyes are cold and void of any emotion. He’s stoic and brooding. He’s fallen into character perfectly and it scares you to think that all the progress he’s made over the years has been destroyed in this moment. For his sake, you hope not.

You tear your eyes away from Bucky at the feeling of Sam’s hand on the curve of your ass. You watch him carefully as he takes a shot. The bartender moves on and you let out a careful breath. 

A man grasps at Zemo’s shoulder and sneers at him. He looks over at Bucky as Zemo asks to see Selby before he walks away. Another man approaches Zemo from behind and he speaks in Russian once more. “Winter Soldier, attack.” 

You hold your breath in anticipation as the unsuspecting man rests his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You want to reach out and touch Bucky, tell him that he doesn’t have to, that the two of you still have time to make a run for it, but you don’t. You can’t. Zemo would probably try and kill you if you interfere and it’s the last thing you need. 

Bucky stalks over to him with two long strides, and rips the man’s hand from Zemo’s shoulder. He twists his wrist back and throws him to the ground. Another man swings at Bucky and he stops it with ease. He punches his back and kicks him against another crowny. As another man attempts to punch and kick at Bucky. He uses his metal arm and momentum to take each of them out.

“It doesn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo smirked, leaning over to look at you and Sam. 

“Shut your mouth,” you hissed between your teeth as you watched Bucky. 

Bucky grabs one of the men by the throat and slams him into the counter. Guns cock all around you as you look around the room. Your heart is inside your throat and there’s ringing in your ears. You reach to grab Bucky’s arm, but Sam beats you to it.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo whispered. “Well done, soldier.”

Sam lets go of his arm and takes a step back, pulling you with him. He squeezes your hip tightly as you watch Bucky’s grip fall from the man’s throat.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said.

Zemo moves to follow him and you resist the urge to reach out and touch Bucky. Sam pulls you along and you walk in silence down a number of hallways. The music fades into the background and you’re squeezing Sam’s hand like your life depends on it. 

A number of men on Selby’s security detail whistle as you walk by. You bite your tongue and resist the urge to snap their necks. The four of you wait at the door at the end of the hall for several seconds before it opens. You walk inside and Zemo takes you from Sam’s side. Your jaw ticks as he guides you to the empty sofa. His hand settles on your thigh and you tense under his touch.

Zemo and Selby negotiate for information. All you need to know is who created the serum and where they are. That’s it. Zemo needs to stick to the plan. 

Zemo stands up from his spot next to you. “Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him…. along with the code words to control him,” Zemo stands behind Bucky, his hand resting on his shoulder. He’s silent and obedient, the perfect encapsulation of who he had been for the last 80 years. 

There wasn’t a discussion over what the offer would be when you were on the plane from Latvia. You just assumed Zemo would figure a way out of it, he was clever enough to do it before. You hadn’t thought that he would actually use the Winter Soldier to his benefit outside of protection. How naive of you. 

Bucky’s eyes are dark and he stares straight ahead as Zemo caresses his chin. He doesn’t flinch or react. He’s playing the Winter Soldier perfectly and you hate every second. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you start to taste blood. 

“He will do anything you want.”

Selby grins, leaning back in her spot on the couch opposite of you. She tells him what you need to know. She nears Sam and then the worst happens, his phone begins to ring. 

She tells him to answer it and your fingers squeeze into the leather couch. Your heart races and for the first time since you walked into the bar, Bucky’s eyes find yours. You know he can see your panic. 

Things are fine momentarily. Sam’s trying his best to stay in character and you know it’s not working as well as he’d like. You hold your breath and your panic settles in at the mention of Sam’s name coming from Sarah. 

“Kill them—” 

Your eyes widen in horror as a bullet pierces through the glass window in front of you and lodges into Selby’s throat, killing her instantly. The act is over. 

You leap to your feet and pull the tactical knife that you hid in your dress out from underneath you. You slice the knife across your attacker’s arm. Bucky kicks him into the wall and grabs you by the arm. 

You run as fast as you can out the bar and through the streets of Madripoor. You dodge bullets and fight off others that attack you with knives. 

You do well, all things considered with what you’re dressed in. You dig your heel into the boot of your attacker, throwing them off balance. You kick their leg out from underneath them and Sam knocks them unconscious. 

Bucky, of course, is doing just fine on his own. You run over to help. You disarm the man closer to you and use the butt of the gun to knock him out. 

You barely have time to register the man creeping up behind Bucky. His arm is outstretched with a gun in his hand. Bucky has no clue. 

“Bucky!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, running as fast as you can towards him. 

He turns to look at you as you use your whole body to shove him aside as the gun goes off. 

Time stands still. 

You fall to the ground in a daze as the bullet rips through your shoulder. Your eyes stare up into the night sky as it takes you a moment to realize that you’d just been shot. 

You try to sit up and get back on your feet. You don’t have time to worry about your wound. You need to get the hell out of Low Town. 

Bucky nearly drags you off the ground and you run. You run as fast as you can despite the bullet in your shoulder. 

“We need to get out of here!” Bucky shouted, inspecting your wound. 

A shadowy figure approaches and Bucky blocks you from view. The hood drops and you peer over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t have time to be surprised that Sharon is the one standing in front of you. 

“Sharon? What are you doing here?” Sam asked. 

“We don’t have time for that!” Bucky snapped. “Sharon, please. You gotta help us. Y/n’s been shot.”

She nods and motions for you to follow her. She stops in front of a beautiful blue car and Bucky guides you into the car, pressing his metal hand against your shoulder to stop the bleeding. You ignore Sam and Bucky’s bickering as they yell at you for getting shot. You don’t have the energy to respond. 

Sharon races across town and pulls up to a very fancy building. Sharon jumps out and opens the door for Bucky. His arm holds your torso and your uninjured arm is thrown over his shoulder as you walk inside. You gather into the elevator as it takes you to the top floor. 

Your entire body goes numb and Bucky guides you to the kitchen counter. Sharon briefly disappears before returning with a heavy duty first aid kit. 

“Do you have tequila?” you asked her as Bucky rummaged through the bag for the correct supplies. Sharon laughs softly before grabbing a bottle of tequila from her liquor cabinet. You take a generous sip and the liquid burns your throat. 

Bucky inspects the bullet wound carefully. Thankfully it was a through and through. He doesn’t have to fish the bullet out. He works quickly and you grit your teeth as he stitches the wound close on both sides of your shoulder. 

The pain lessened to a dull throb now that he’s finished. He cleans the excess blood off your skin before gently placing your arm in a sling. 

“Why did you do that, Y/n?” Bucky chastised you, shaking his head in disappointment. “I could’ve taken care of him.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “I don’t even get a thank you for saving your ass? You were vulnerable, I did the right thing.”

He sighs and you look away. Your eyes find Sharon’s. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

She nods and disappears down the hall to her bedroom. Silence fills the room and Sam takes his turn to reprimand you. You ignore him entirely and take another large swig of tequila. 

Sharon returns moments later with a pair of clean clothes. You thank her quietly and she points you in the direction of one of the guest bedrooms. You hop off the counter and ignore Bucky’s protests and calls of your name. 

You huffed in frustration as you limped towards one of Sharon’s guest bedrooms. You had enough of Sam and Bucky yelling at you for your recklessness, especially Bucky. You’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep. 

You did what you thought was right. You did what Steve would’ve done. You had Bucky’s back. Isn’t that what mattered? Sure, you got shot in the shoulder, but it isn’t something you haven’t done before. You have the scars to prove it. 

“Stop running away from me! We’re not done talking about this!” Bucky yelled after you, hot on your heels into the bedroom. “What were you thinking?”

You’re sick of Bucky questioning you. You’re not a child and you’re not the bright eyed recruit he thinks you still are. You did what was right in the heat of the moment. You don’t regret it. You’d do it all over again if it meant that he was safe. 

“Stop treating me like a child, James! I’m not Steve’s recruit anymore! I’m a grown woman,” you shouted back at him. Your shoulders shake and you glare at him. “I know you still think I’m that naive 25 year old, but that’s not me anymore. The last five years may have been five seconds to you, but they weren’t to me. Accept the fact that I did what I thought was right.”

“It was reckless!”

“Steve would’ve done it!” you bit back. 

“This isn’t about Steve!” he argued. 

You laugh bitterly and shake your head. He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t see what you see. You know he sees you as his responsibility now that Steve’s gone. He feels an obligation to look after you because Steve did. You have a part of Steve with you. Bucky’s clinging to any last remains of Steve, and that includes you. 

“Isn’t it though? You feel like you have a responsibility to protect me, to look after me. Why? It’s because Steve did and now that he’s gone, you feel like you have to replace him!”

The silence that fills the room suffocates you. Your heart races with anger. You want Bucky to leave you alone. You didn’t ask for this. Sam needed your help, and when you provided it, you got yelled at for it. Now you just want to go home. 

You turn your back to Bucky and pull the pants that Sharon gave you up your legs before discarding the dress in the corner of the room. You don’t care if Bucky sees all the scars that litter your backside. Maybe then he would understand that you’ve always done what’s best for the mission, even if that meant getting hurt. You throw the sweatshirt over your head and turn to look at Bucky again. 

“Do you have anything else to say to me? Are you going to try and deny it?”

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re one of the only people I have left that have a connection to Steve.”

Another bitter laugh escapes your mouth. He doesn’t understand. “He abandoned me, James! He abandoned us. Steve’s gone. You can’t hold on to him anymore. You don’t have to do anything Steve did. You have nothing to prove to me, I promise. I don’t need you to replace Steve. I need you, Buck. You’re the one that’s here with me, not Steve.”

Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and you look away from him. The silence is deafening and Bucky moves to take you in his arms. He holds you against his chest and cards his fingers through your hair. You cry against his chest and cling to his henley. He gently guides you to the bed and sits down with you in his lap.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “You’re right. It just scared me. I don’t think I can handle losing you too. I’m sorry.”

You pull away to look at him with your tear stained cheeks and he carefully wipes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You blink away the remaining tears and lean into his touch. “It’s okay, Buck. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

You rest your forehead against his and breathe him in. His metal hand rubs circles against your back and it sends shivers down your spine. He holds you carefully and no words are exchanged. Your eyes flicker to his lips and your heart thunders against your chest. 

There’s a soft knock at the door and you pull your body off of Bucky’s. You sit beside him as Sam pokes his head inside the room. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between the two of you. 

You look over at Bucky and then back to Sam. You smile and nod slowly. “Everything’s perfect, Sam.”

[lesbian-deadpool]

Santa Jr.

Part Three of Three: Merry Christmas

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 4,791

Warnings: Nothing?

Request: Nope.

Summary: The end of the road. Or the roof. Ho Ho Ho.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not My GIF)

---

"Do you really have to go today?"

You sighed into the phones receiver, "I'm afraid so."

"But it's Christmas Eve," Natasha whined, which surprised you, causing your eyebrows to rise at her openness, "I wanted to see you tomorrow. Are you sure you have to go? Can't you push it back a few days?"

"I'm sorry, but I do. My father wants me back. We have work to do."

"Ah yes, your father. Ol' St. Nick. You delivering presents with him tonight."

She didn't know that she just hit it dead on the nose.

"That would be correct."

"Oh, come on, Y/N!" Natasha yelled, and you had the distinct impression that she had stomped her foot upon the ground, "You made me feel festive now you have to be here with me on Christmas! It's only fair."

"I wish I could, Nat-"

"What job do you have to do on Christmas Eve?"

"You said it yourself, 'delivering presents'." You smiled.

"Oh, ha, ha." She was silent for a few seconds afterwards until she asked you, voice sounding smaller than before, "Will I ever see you again? Will you be back?"

"Oh, Natasha. I'll be back before you know it. And I'll come straight to you."

"I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm not gonna be long," you chuckled.

"But it's worse because you're missing a special occasion."

"I know. I'm gonna miss you too. Trust me."

"You know, I was going to ask you to spend Christmas with the team. We would have been happy to have you... that doesn't change your mind, does it?" she asked. You could practically hear the playful yet hopeful half-smile upon her face.

"I'm sorry, Nat." You shook your head solemnly. "If I could, I would. That honestly sounds amazing. But I promised my dad before I even got here."

You heard Natasha's audible sigh, "I get that. I really do prior commitments and all that."

"Yeah, I bet with being an Avenger, you see -and deal with- a lot of that."

She scoffed with another sigh. You could practically feel the shake of her head and eye roll.

"You don't know the half of it. I love my job. I really do. It's the best thing in the world... to save people." A deep breath, then a huff afterwards. "But it is just so exhausting sometimes."

"You need a break."

"I don't have time for a break. You never know when the world needs saving."

"Well, I'm sure you can quickly make it back from a beach somewhere. I mean, Tony has those quinjet, things."

Natasha hummed, knowing that you were right, once again. But, was still too anxious about the world going to shit and her not being able to help immediately.

Just then, a knock came at your door, knowing exactly who it was.

"Nat. Listen, I have to go. I'll talk to you soon, okay? I really need to go."

"Oh, okay," she spoke, surprised at your abrupt end to the call, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. See you. Bye, Nat." And with that, you hung up the call.

"Jesus Christ," you whispered to yourself as you made your way to answer the door.

"Come on, Y/N. We're gonna be late!" Tim yelled through the door.

"Alright. I'm coming."

You swung the door open, revealing one of your oldest friends.

"About time." Tim strutted inside, taking note of your half-packed duffel bag, turning to you in surprise, "You're not ready yet?!" He then checked his watch, "We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago. Our ride's waiting."

"I know, I know." You threw your arms up. "But Nat called me and-"

"Nat, huh?" Tim smirked, receiving a glare from you over your shoulder. "You two seem to be getting pretty close."

"Shut up."

Tim laughed.

"Oh, hurry up, would you?"

You grumbled under your breath, picking up the last of your clothes and shoving them into the bag. Zipping it up and throwing it over your shoulder.

"Okay, I'm ready," you spoke to the man sarcastically. Making your way past him and to the door.

"About time," he commented under his breath, "You do that just like your dad."

"Well, it runs in the family. Kinda have to be good at carrying things over my shoulder."

You were about to start making your way downstairs when Tim called out behind you.

"Upstairs."

"What?"

"Upstairs," he stated, "Our rides on the roof."

"The roof?"

---

"Dasher?!" you exclaimed as soon as you walked through the door and into the cold evening air. The animal groaning a noise to you, which you took as a greeting, "Our ride home is Dasher?!"

"Yeah." Tim shrugged, making his way up to the reindeer. "It's faster. And we can't really use the sleigh. Plus, that's busy getting prepped for tonight."

"And I had to take a train and two aeroplanes to get here?!"

Tim smiled satisfactorily as he placed a stool and pulled himself onto the back of the reindeer, a small chuckle coming from the man.

"Well, that was my idea."

"I fucking knew it!"

"Just get on Dasher, Y/N."

"I hate you so much, right now."

But still.

You did as the man said. Sliding onto the animal behind him. Knowing that you were on a time crunch right now.

"People could see us, you know?"

"No, they won't." He shook his head assuredly. "She's already been coated in the dust. It'll wear off in a couple hours. We'll be fine."

"Whatever you say," you mumbled under your breath.

Suddenly, with an ordering shout from Tim, Dasher rose into the air, and off you went.

On your way home.

But if that was the case.

Why did it feel like you were leaving your home behind?

---

"Finally, you made it!" your father called joyfully from within his sleigh.

"Yeah, blame, Tim! He held up back!"

The aforesaid man yelling out in outraged offence, turning to face you, with his mouth agape, acting like you had just slapped him.

"Yeah, I'm sure that was the case," he said, coming closer to you.

"Hey!"

Your father wrapped you in a hug, reaching up to press a bearded kiss to your temple.

"I missed you," he spoke softly.

"I missed you, too," you replied honestly.

No matter how much he got on your nerves about this whole 'destiny' thing. You really did miss the man who raised you alongside your mother.

"Hey, where's my hug?"

'Speak -or think, rather- of the devil, and they shall come.'

"I missed you, too." You smiled, pulling her into a hug of her own.

"Likewise, dear."

A cough sounded from behind you, making you all turn to spot Tim with a tablet in his hand, scrolling through it.

"I'm sorry to interrupt this lovely family reunion, but if you don't leave now, we're gonna be behind schedule."

"Yes!" Your father clapped his hands together. "Let's get this show on the road!"

"Oh, I'm gonna be exhausted after this, I just know it," you spoke, making your way to the sleigh to slide in next to your father.

"I'm sure you will, dear." your mother smiled.

"Bet you would like yo be exhausted because of something else," came out as a mumble.

"Timothy!"

Your father laughed, getting geared up to get in the sky, the reindeer's kicking their hoves against the ground. Dasher, having just been strapped into the reigns, still raring to get into the sky.

Dasher always had been the one with the most energy.

"Oh, there's something in the back for you."

"What?" you looked behind you, into the back row of seats spotting the outfit that lay upon the red leather seats. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

There, on the seat, lay a long red suede, fur-lined coat, the fur travelling up around the collar.

"What?" he asked unknowingly.

"I'm not wearing that."

"It's cold out here at night. You're only in a sweater and jeans. Come on, It's the same one I used to wrap you up in when I brought you out as a kid."

At that, you sighed. Unable to let the man and his memories down.

By the time you had pulled the coat from the back of the sleigh and shrugged it onto your shoulder's, you were already flying through the air, heading to your first stop.

You looked down at yourself, taking in every inch of the long coat you could see.

"Hey, it suits you," your father cheered happily, "I bet you're warmer now."

"I can't believe it fits," you whispered.

"I told you, you'd grow into it."

And he did.

Many years ago.

When you were only five, bundled up in his coat, all snuggled and warm. While your father wore nothing but his undershirt and long waistcoat and belt. Excited for the day that you would finally fit into it.

He had to have a new coat made for the next year.

That one was yours now.

And he wouldn't dare take it from you.

"So..." he started slowly, a knowing look on his face. Small smile ticking at the corner of his lips, nose and cheeks already beginning to tint red, thanks to the cold. Yours undoubtedly the same, "Tell me. How was Natasha?"

"Stubborn," you informed, raising your eyebrows for a moment, "But I managed to worm my way in."

"I know." He nodded. "You did well. I am so proud of you."

You considered him for a few seconds.

"Thanks, dad. I kinda feel bad, though."

"Why?"

"Because... because I really like her, y'know? I care about her a lot. And the fact that I started this with ulterior motives... I feel like I'm betraying her, and she has no idea."

"Then... then you tell her the truth."

"Ha!" You laughed loudly and sarcastically. "Yeah, what am I supposed to say? "Hi, I'm the child of Santa Claus. I was sent to give you Christmas Joy. You were nothing but a job to me. But, I like you now, please forgive me!" 'A', like she'd believe that. And 'B', If she did, like she'd forgive me."

"It's worth a shot." He shrugged. "They are superheroes, Y/N. If you showed her proof, I'm sure she'd believe you."

You sighed, leaning back into your seat, throwing your head back.

"Yeah, you're right... I've gotta tell her."

---

Soon enough, you had arrived at the very first house.

"Right." Your father slapped his thighs, turning to you.

You watched him watch you for about ten seconds.

"What?"

"Go on then." He pointed in the direction of the chimney. You, looking over to it, before turning back to him.

"'Go on then', what?"

He looked at you pointedly.

"Oh, no. No." You shook your head. "Not gonna happen."

"Come on, Y/N. It's about time you tackled your first delivery."

You sighed, looking back to the chimney, already knowing that you were gonna do it. Groaning lightly at the square brick tube.

"Fine..."

"Yes!" he cheered.

"Wait." You turned to face him, from where you were looking at the sacks in the very back of the sleigh. "Is this how this is gonna go today? You're gonna be sitting here while I do all the hard work?"

"Yep. Now get going. We have other houses to get to."

You grabbed the presents from the back, making your way over to the chimney.

"This is child labour, or something."

"You're legally an adult."

"I'm your child," you called over, halfway in the chimney, before sliding further down.

"Remember the techniques!"

"I know!" then whispering to yourself, "Keep yelling, and Natasha won't b the only one finding out about us."

"And bring me up some cookies!"

"Absolutely not!"

---

You had been at it for hours.

You, taking half of the homes, and your father, taking the other half.

Assuming it was mainly because he was drastically missing the sweet treats that were left out for him.

"Here you go, girls."

Currently, you were helping feed the reindeer the snacks that were left out for them. Before you had to hit the road again.

"So, where are we heading next?" you asked, hopping back into the sleigh.

"New York. And you'll be taking The Avengers Tower."

"I thought so." You smiled.

"Oh. And I've got the thing you asked Tim to get."

"Oh?" your voice was curious as you turned to peer at him.

"Yeah. But it's back home. We're gonna come out again with it. It won't take too long."

"Okay." You nodded, understanding.

You could hardly wait for Natasha to see what awaited her on Christmas Day.

---

"Here we are!"

"This isn't The Avengers Tower," you pointed out to your father.

You were in Queens, on top of some random apartment complex, miles away from the city.

"Here's the gift." Your father ignored you, handing you a red wrapped box, with a gold ribbon tieing it all together. "And another one." He placed a smaller, blue box on top of that one. "You take Peter Parker and his aunt. Thought I'd throw something nice in for her. She deserves it. And I'll take the rest."

"Peter Parker? The kid?"

"The same one." He nodded. "Don't wake them the kids just gone to sleep. Tim told me," he finished, tapping on the screen attached to the front of the sleigh.

"You do know that's very creepy, right?"

"Yep," he replied, popping the 'P'.

"As long as your self-aware, I guess," you said, sliding from the sleigh for the hundredth time.

There not being a chimney was both easier and harder.

Harder, because you didn't have a direct way into a home.

And easier because you didn't have to squeeze yourself down a fucking chimney.

But having a skeleton key for the world was useful, in this case.

And so fucking wrong at any other time. Even what you were currently doing was dubious, at best.

And yet, you slid through the Parker's door and headed straight for the tree.

However, not before you tripped over the rug and stumbled.

"Motherfucker," you hissed under your breath. Waiting in the silence of the room, not daring to move a single muscle. Just to see if you had woken anyone up.

Lucky for you, the silence dragged on, and no one came out.

Huffing out a relieved breath, tension pouring from your shoulders. You continued making your way to the tree.

"Goddamn rug." Hastily, you placed the gifts under the decorated tree, albeit carefully. Taking great care to position the presents just right for people sleeping not too far away.

Remembering to avoid the rug on your way out.

It was cold outside in the sleigh, which made you glad that you had actually put the long-lined coat on.

Luckily, you hadn't wait long.

Your father, making his way towards you, gesturing a small cloth-wrapped package of sweet goodies towards you.

"Oh, thanks, dad."

"You not have any?" he asked, almost betrayed, eyebrows furrowed at you.

"The kid's seventeen," you pointed out, "They don't really leave out cookies and stuff when they get older."

He grumbled at that.

"The one thing I hate about people growing up."

You laughed at his words, shaking your head.

"C'mon, let's get going, yeah? We have to actually be finished by this morning."

"Right. Right. You're right."

---

"Jesus Christ," your attention was pulled towards your father, "It's lit up like a Christmas Tree. Have fun with that one."

"Yeah, they lave The Avengers Logo light in and stuff during the night. Pluss people work late. Also, Natasha told me that a lot of them don't sleep well at night- Wait." You turned to face him again. "Are you telling me that I'm doing the whole tower by myself?"

"Yep! Have fun!"

"You're an ass."

"Well, Tim said that you would be the best one to do this," he replied, a knowing smile pulling at his face.

"Of course he did."

And so, you got to work, with the tiny satisfaction that your father would have to be sat out in the cold whilst you did all of the work.

Luckily, you only had one room to do.

Which so happened to be the common room.

Which also happened to be one of the more likely rooms to be populated by the awoken Avengers.

Also, you had a giant sack thrown over your shoulder.

So, all in all. Difficult.

However, it could have been even more difficult if your father had come with you.

That way, there would have been twice as many chances of being caught.

Which is almost what happened to you during the middle of your delivery.

You had been listing off names in your head with every gift you placed down.

'Tony.'

'Clint.'

'Steve.'

'Sam.'

'Wanda.'

'Thor.'

'Bruce.'

"I mean, you should have seen her she was totally bummed out."

Your eyes widened when you heard voices behind you, travelling your way.

Quickly scooping up the less than half-full sack and slid to hide behind the tree.

Just as the owners of the voices entered the room.

"Really? How come?" Wanda asked the Captain- Danvers, not Rogers.

"Well, when Y/N said that they couldn't spend Christmas with us- Or with Natasha, rather. It really got her down."

"Wow," the witch almost breathed, while mild guilt soaked through you, "Have you ever seen her like that?"

"Who, Nat?" Clint asked, sceptically," She hadn't liked someone enough, in that way, to actually care about spending time with them. And she has never cared enough about the holidays to care about any aspect of them."

'Wait. What?'

"Nat really likes them, huh?"

"I've never seen her this way." Clint shook his head.

'Huh?'

"She's known the person for less than two weeks, and she's already starting to fall for them," Carol joked, and Clint hummed.

The relief that spread throughout you at the knowledge that your feelings were supposedly reciprocated.

"Why couldn't Y/N spend Christmas here?"

Carol shrugged. "Something about them having a job to do with their father."

"On Christmas Eve?" Wanda questioned, tone shocked.

"Ha! Maybe they are Santa Claus." You smirked, ticking your eyebrow up at the statement, "Quick, check the tree."

'Don't check the tree!'

They all laughed, before heading on their own way, once again leaving you alone in the common room.

Breathing a sigh of relief before getting back to your task at hand.

'Pietro.'

'Rhodey.'

'Carol.'

'Bucky.'

And finally, 'Natasha.'

Then you high-tailed it the fuck outta there.

Being mindful not to trip on anything as you did.

---

Finally, you had arrived back home.

You were exhausted.

Then it dawned on you. You had to go back out to deliver the last part of Natasha's gift.

But not before you were dragged back towards your home by your father.

"Dad!" you complained behind him, "Stop, I have to go back out, remember?"

"That can wait a second. Your mother and I want to talk to you."

"Oh no," you ground.

"This isn't about that," he told you, "This is something different."

"Well, what-?"

Your voice got caught in your throat as soon as you walked through the door, seeing the large banner that read "GOODBYE". Tim, standing on a chair, raising up on his tiptoes, just under the sign, holding up a scribbled piece of paper, adding, "FUCKER" onto the end of the banner.

"You're a jackass," you smiled to the man before turning back to your parents, who now stood side by side, "What's all this about? You kicking me out."

"No, of course not, dear." Your mother shook her head.

"We know," your father spoke up, "You loved it in New York. And it's time you sprung the nest. We know you'll be back, but until you're ready to stay. You need to live your own life."

You could feel the tears burning against the back of your eyes, fighting their way out.

Quickly catching the set of key's Tim threw your way. "They're for the apartment. It's yours now."

"Your Christmas gift," your father said.

"Fuck sake," you whispered, "You really have to make me cry, don't you?"

"Just promise you'll come visit us?" your mother asked, tears of her own falling down her face as she pulled you into a hug.

"Of course I will."

Your father joined the hug then.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too. Both of you."

"I won't," Tim commented them, clearly lying through his teeth.

You pulled away from your parents and gave the man a hug of his own. Him groaning and acting like he hated it the entire time.

"Everything's ready for you to go," your father told you, "The rest of your stuff will be sent to your place. But you should get going before everyone wakes up."

"Right. You're right."

You wiped under your nose, giving your parents one last hug.

"Do me a favour? Treat that girl right."

"I-" You pulled away, evaluating your father before a smile pulled at your face. "You really played matchmaker, didn't you?"

"There you go!" Tim called, falling on deaf ears, "They finally got it."

"You know I like to hit two birds with one stone."

"You have a great Christmas with her." Your mother smiled at you softly.

"Actually, I have a proposition for you about that."

---

Dawn started to break, just as you spotted the Tower in the distance.

You were alone this time, riding a single reindeer, a few objects, including your bag strapped behind you. Natasha's surprise, nestled in your coat.

You really needed a nap after this.

All of the Avengers were already in the common room when you arrived, heading straight to Natasha's private floor. Peter having just got to the Tower himself.

As soon as you placed "the thing" by the tree, you hurried from the room, hearing her elevator approaching behind you. Knowing exactly who was heading up.

---

Five minutes prior.

The team was gathered around, torn paper littering pretty much every surface of the room, mugs of warm drinks all around. Festive hats and jumpers clad upon the team.

"This gift says "From "Santa"". Who did this?" Tony asked with a humorous smile.

Everyone voiced their amused curiosity for the gift, announcing that it was not them that caused this festive trick.

"Seriously? No ones gonna admit to this?"

"Who's it for?" Steve asked.

Tony checked the label once again.

"Natasha."

"Hmm?" She looked over.

"You got a gift from "Santa"," he replied, using air-quoted as he did, "I'm not kidding. The tag even has 'Santa' in quotes."

Hopping up, the red-head moved over to take the gift from the billionaire.

"So, who's it really from?" Tony asked curiously. As Natasha opened the box. Smiling at the contents within.

"It's from "Santa"." She smiled knowingly, a few others realising the same thing she had.

As she walked away, all that could be heard was Toiny's shouts for answers while the team looked on curiously.

---

Natasha had arrived on her floor just as the note within the box asked her to.

Finding the second part of her "present" lay curled up under the Christmas Tree.

She couldn't keep the smile off her face as she walked over to the sleeping golden retriever puppy.

Crouching down and leaving the box with the collar inside upon the floor. Natasha scooped the dog into her arms, pulling it against her chest.

"Merry Christmas."

Natasha was shocked, to say the least.

Spinning around, she spotted tie one person she wanted to spend the day with.

You.

There you stood, a proud smile on your face. Looking like you had matured and were at peace with something now. That everything was going to be alright.

"How did you get in here? And what are you wearing?" Natasha finished off with a light laugh, as to not wake the puppy in her arms.

You looked down, noticing that you were still wearing the long red coat over your sweater and jeans.

Looking back up to the red-head, with your arms spread, and said, "A. Ho, Ho, Ho."

She giggled.

"You really are a Santa Claus, aren't you?"

"Yeah, about that. I have to tell you something."

Natasha cocked her head as you took a deep breath, getting ready to tell her the truth.

That is, until a clopping sound started to echo through the halls.

Looking to your left, your eyes widened at what was making the noise.

And in walked Rudolph.

"No," you ordered, pointing to the reindeer. All the while, Natasha watched on, in total shock, "No. Back. Back!"

You continued to shoo the animal, her "yelling" back at you every time. Nose flickering red as she did, then dimming back to its normal colour.

"Rudolph, no!" A groan and her nose flicker's back. "Out! I told you to stay on the roof. Why don't you ever listen to me?" Another groan and nose flicker, the reindeer still backing up slowly.

Deciding to try something different, you clapped your hands, hoping that would make her move faster.

Instead, you gained an answer you had asked almost two weeks ago.

Rudolph's nose flickered on. And stayed on. Shining a bright red.

Natasha was stunned.

She just stood there watching.

Unable to say a word.

You were also stunned. But because you had been shown a revelation.

You clapped your hands again.

Her nose turned off.

Two more claps.

Nose turned on.

Claps.

Off.

Claps.

On.

"Oh my, God. You really do have a clap on, clap off, nose."

"Hey Nat, we really wanna know what was in your gift. I mean, it's too thin to be a vibrat- Oh my fucking, God!" Tony yelled, walking from the elevator. Wanda and Peter following behind him.

You looked over your shoulder at them.

The three of them watching you and the reindeer, with its nose still on, mouths agape and eye's wide.

"Their nose is glowing!" Tony yelled, pointing at the animal.

Looking back to Rudolph, then back to the three Avengers, you clapped your hands for the last time, and her nose switched off.

"What the fuck?!"

"Is that Rudolph?!" Peter yelled.

Natasha and Wanda still unable to speak.

"Y'know how my last name is 'Claus'?" You smiled bashfully.

"You've got to be kidding me," Natasha finally spoke.

"I wanted to tell you this in a better way."

"Are you Santa Claus?" Wanda asked, albeit still sceptical at the words coming out of her mouth.

"No." you span to face Wanda. "I'm his kid."

"You're joking," Natasha said.

"Do you need more proof than a reindeer with a glowing nose?"

Said reindeer now, nudging against your leg, running your hand through the fur of her head.

"This is insane."

"I know." You nodded. "I know."

"Can I touch him?" Peter asked, edging towards the reindeer.

"Her," you corrected, "Males lose their antlers during the winter."

"Oh, cool."

As soon as he was close enough, you grabbed his hand and placed it upon her back. Rudolph, practically purring at the attention she was receiving.

Then turning back to Natasha.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner-"

"That's why you had to leave yesterday."

You nodded.

"My dad wanted me to go out with him last night. It had been years since we had done it."

Natasha walked towards you.

Mild anxiety coursing through you, not being able to read her expression.

As soon as the red-head stood in front of you. She reached up to grasp the back of your neck, the other hand still holding the puppy to her chest and pulling you down into a love-filled kiss.

And you knew.

Even if Natasha would be mad at you when you told her the real reason you were in the city.

Everything would be fine.

You could feel it in your bones.

This wouldn't be the last kiss the two of you would share.

And this wouldn't be the last Christmas the two of you would share together, either.

"So," Tony's voice startled you out of the kiss, Wanda smacking him on the arm at disturbing the both of you. A smirk pulled at his face, "You staying for Christmas then?"

"Well, actually..." you started, Natasha looking at you, eyes filled with slight worry. She really wanted you to stay, "You've all been invited to spend Christmas with my family."

"In the North Pole?!" Peter asked excitedly.

"In the North Pole." You nodded at the over-joyed boy.

"We'd love to," Natasha answered for the team, unable to pull her eyes off of you.

You smiled. Knowing that this was going to be one of the best Christmases you have ever had.---

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess, @wannabe-fic-reader, @vancityfire13, @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday,

SFW Tag list: 

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

[wandaromanova]

Life Support

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, toxic relationship (?)

A/N: hello! happy reading <3

anon requested: Hi! Can I please request Nat always being on missions 24/7 and not spending time w reader and reader understands at first but after being constantly alone she finally confronts Nat when she’s getting ready to leave again so reader says “if you walk out of that door we’re done” then “please don’t walk out of that door” then Nat walks out so then they’re broken up. Sorry if it’s too specific💕

Summary: All good things must come to an end.

Word Count: 2K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

If there was one thing you were certain of, it was this; dating an Avenger wasn’t easy.

You were in a relationship with Natasha Romanoff, and have been for the better part of two years now. At first, everything had been absolutely incredible. The redhead would come to your apartment every night, her body entangled with yours beneath your bedsheets. You would wake up to Natasha sleeping soundly beside you, her arms wrapped around your waist as she held you close. Her warm breath would fan against the side of your neck as you took in her features. 

Natasha would slowly stir awake, her eyes moving side-to-side behind her closed eyelids before fluttering open. She would be met with your wide smile shining down at her, your fingers slowly combing through her tresses. The redhead would pull you down by the neck, placing a tender kiss against your lips. 

When she pulled back from the kiss, her eyes would travel down to your neck and admire the dark purple marks that were littered across your skin. It was exhilarating to her, knowing that you were hers. Natasha felt a sense of pride and couldn’t resist a smirk from taking over her face. 

You would cook breakfast in the kitchen while Natasha sat on the counter, ranting about the events of the day before. Your laughs filling the space as she mimicked Steve and Tony’s voices, mocking their ridiculous arguments. Eventually, the redhead would hop off of the counter and come up behind you, her front pressed against your back as she held you by the waist. 

Once the food was cooked, you would sit on Natasha’s lap at the table, your hands linked behind the back of her neck. She would eat and occasionally feed you, holding the spoon up to your mouth and purposely missing your mouth, effectively getting food on your face. Natasha would laugh as an annoyed look would cross your face, a pout gracing your lips. 

The Russian would wipe off the food with the pad of her thumb, sucking it off of her digit before kissing your pouty lips. She wouldn’t stop kissing you until your pout was replaced with a smile. You were in euphoria each time Natasha would visit, but all good things must come to an end.

A feeling of sadness would wash over you each time she would walk out the door, unsure of when she’d return. Seeing her leave never got any easier. All you wanted to do was beg her to stay in your arms, but you knew that wasn’t an option. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You weren’t the only person that needed Natasha and you understood that. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Despite the feeling of despair that would creep into your chest, you never complained. You were aware of how selfish it would seem if you were to even so much as bring up the topic of Natasha staying for longer than a night. She was a vital part of the Avengers, a team that saved the world from threats on a daily. 

You had handled the arbitrariness of Natasha’s profession pretty well and settled for it. Having Natasha in your life occasionally was a lot better than not having her at all. However, there was only so much you could take. And one night, you had finally had enough. 

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

For the past six months, you had seen Natasha a total of ten times. It seemed as if she had been taking on more missions that varied in their durations. She was gone for weeks at a time and wouldn’t contact you the entire time, unaware of when she was due to return. You would only find out when she was back home when she was already knocking at your front door. 

To say you missed Natasha would be the understatement of the century; you missed her like fucking crazy.

You would spend the weeks she was away, sleeping in bed alone as you clutched her pillow close to your chest. You practically lived in the sweaters she left at your apartment, the faint smell of her perfume lingering on the articles of clothing. The day you realized her scent had faded, you almost burst out into tears. 

It made you feel disgusted with yourself. You were waiting around like a lost puppy, desperate for Natasha’s return. You couldn’t focus at work either. Your thoughts were focused on Natasha.

Will she come home soon? Is she okay? Is the mission she’s on super dangerous? Is she not replying to your texts because she’s busy or because she isn’t alive to do so? Or what if she had been home and just didn’t care to see you? What if she didn’t love you anymore?

These questions circulated your mind in each time of Natasha’s absence. You knew that you had to confront her, but didn’t know how to go about the situation. What? Are you supposed to go up to her and say ‘Stop saving the world to spend time with me’? Obviously fucking not.

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous you felt. Natasha was out risking her life for humanity and here you were, moping over not being able to see her. Pathetic. 

Regardless of how absurd you thought your concerns were, they didn’t stop you from finally confronting your never-present girlfriend.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had been sat on the couch when a knock sounded at the door. You immediately sprang up and rushed toward the door, hoping to see the woman that’s been plaguing your mind. To your surprise, you were met with red locks and green eyes shining with joy. 

You had to fight the urge to leap into her arms and shower her face with little kisses. Natasha’s happiness turned to confusion when you wordlessly moved to the side, giving her some room to enter. The sound of her heavy combat boots hitting the hardwood floor resounded throughout your apartment. 

You shut the door slowly, leaning your forehead against it with a sigh. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to confront the woman if you laid eyes on her. Natasha had you wrapped around her finger and you couldn’t help but feel like she capitalized on your weakness at times.

“Y/N? What’s wrong, moya lyubov (my love)?” Natasha’s raspy voice met your ears and you let out a shaky breath. “The fact that you don’t know what’s wrong IS what’s wrong.” Your voice came out small and you couldn’t see it, but Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

You heard her footsteps approaching you and you quickly turned around, coming face-to-face with your girlfriend, “What are you talking about?” Natasha’s hands moved up to cup your cheeks, but you swatted her hands away. 

“You’re never here, Natasha. That is what I’m talking about.” You walked past her and paced around the living room. The redhead was glued to her spot, her eyes following your every move. Your shoulders were tensed, your eyes were fixated on the floor as you walked around. Natasha had never seen you so serious before, and she wouldn’t admit it, but she was terrified.

“I’m here whenever I can be. Is that not enough for you?” Your movements came to an abrupt halt and you whipped around to stare at your girlfriend as if she had grown two heads. “No! It may be enough for you, but it isn’t for me! I’m alone for weeks on end without so much as a fucking text from you!” You raised your voice and Natasha felt irritation arise within her. 

“I can’t stop in the middle of a shootout or an interrogation to message you! I’m sorry that I’m away all the time and can’t give you details, but it’s my fucking job! You knew what you were getting into when you got involved with me.” Natasha moved until she stood directly in front of you, chest rising and falling quickly as she took shallow breaths. Her eyes were trained on yours with an intimidating glare, but you weren’t scared of her. 

“My job is a priority.” The redhead gritted out through clenched teeth. You felt your own anger expand at her words. “And I’m not?” You questioned Natasha challengingly and she shook her head with a dark chuckle. 

“No. You’re not.” You felt your heart shatter completely. Her tone was emotionless and she spoke as if she didn’t care at all; like you were a stranger.

“My job comes before anything, including you. I can’t let the world fall apart just because you’re a needy bitch that can’t spend a fucking minute without me.”

Natasha was relentless and you couldn’t handle it. Tears rapidly fell from your eyes as your chest constricted, making it hard to breathe.

People who said that words couldn’t physically hurt you; were full of shit. Each word that fell from her lips felt like a stab to the heart. And as everyone knew, Natasha Romanoff was very good with knives. 

“What? You’re not gonna say anything now? You sure as hell had a lot of shit to talk a minute ago.”

Natasha’s tone was cold and you hated yourself for still trying to find the warmth that you used to soak in, but you couldn’t find it. All you were met with was a blistering wind that sent shivers up your spine. 

You remained silent, focusing on containing the harsh sobs that threatened to wrack your body. Natasha rolled her eyes at you and turned around, heading straight for the door. An alarm sounded in your head as you watched her walk away. 

“If you walk out of that door, we’re done.” Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke. Natasha froze, her hand on the doorknob going still. She stayed there for a minute, contemplating her next move. Of course, you didn’t think the redhead would actually leave, but she was always full of surprises.

Your eyes widened as she twisted the knob, pulling the door open. “Wait! Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry.” Honestly, you didn’t really know why you were apologizing. If anything, the roles should’ve been reversed in this moment, but you were willing to say or do anything if it meant Natasha would stay.

Natasha ignored your pleas and took one step out of the door before you hastily rushed after her. You gripped her wrist for dear life and her head whipped around, a look of annoyance on her face. 

“Let go of me.” Natasha tore her hand out of your hand easily, considering she was much stronger than you were. You remained in the doorway as you watched the redhead strut down the hall until she reached the staircase. As soon as you lost sight of her, you slammed the door and fell to your knees. 

You had no intention of destroying your relationship. All you wanted to do was voice your concerns to Natasha. You were expecting endless reassurances as she wrapped her strong arms around your body.

But instead, you were crying on the cold floor of your apartment, her harsh words echoing throughout your mind. Part of you was waiting for her to knock on the door and apologize profusely for leaving, but Natasha was lots of things, and stubborn was one of them. 

Once Natasha came to a decision, there wasn’t much that could change her mind. That’s what hurt the most. You were positive that the redhead loved you just as much as you did her. You felt as though nothing could sever the unbreakable connection that brought you two together. The possibility of Natasha willingly leaving you had never crossed your mind. Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for this outcome.

Natasha Romanoff was your everything. Her cocky smirk and infectious laughter were the oxygen that filled your lungs each time you took a breath. Her shiny green eyes and red locks were the chemical reactions of your brain that produced dopamine. 

Her love coursed through your bloodstream and kept your heart pumping. But now, she was gone. The minute she walked out, the light in your eyes disappeared and your skin slowly turned to dust. Without the woman you loved, you were nothing but a withering corpse going through the decomposition process.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha was your life support and she decided it ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ was time to pull the plug. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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