#Tony: PUT SOME EFFORT IN

[worstloki]

Tony: you can be a good guy and get along with the other residents in the tower but instead of character development you choose to be an annoying emo tagalong Loki: if I have to go through any more character development, my character is gonna develop into a villain Tony: this is exactly what I'm talking about--you already TRIED THAT!!

[winterarmyy]

Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

[themoonhauntedmyillusionss]

𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 (𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑻𝒘𝒐)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝟑𝟒 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝟐𝟎, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 5.4𝒌

A couple of weeks passed without knowing anything about Wanda. You didn’t dare ask your mother; you didn’t want to seem too interested in the woman, and sometimes that was also your doom. Sometimes you were worried that you pretended so much lack of interest to become even more suspicious. Either way, your mother never even mentioned the redhead in those weeks; you had no idea if she hadn’t heard from the woman or if she was intentionally not saying anything to you for whatever reason.

You had spent those weeks thinking and thinking again about what had happened that night, and even more, you had thought about what seemed to have been about to happen. You had the feeling Wanda was about to kiss you. You could still feel her breath on your face, you could still see her eyes darken in front of you, and you could still smell her sweet scent. You had no idea why she suddenly seemed to want to feel close to you; she had never given you even the slightest doubt about feeling something like that. 

Also, you couldn’t shake off the questions about the thing she had said about your thoughts, almost as if she were able to hear everything you had been thinking about. You shook your head at the thought; you knew it was impossible. Also, if she had been hearing everything, you were sure she would have already confronted you about those thoughts. After all, you were aware that those thoughts were absolutely inappropriate in general, even more so since they were about your mother’s best friend. 

“Y/N, you should be studying. You have the first exam in just a month.” You heard your mother in the kitchen; you were currently on the sofa scrolling through each channel on the TV, but you couldn’t find anything to pick your interest. Your mother usually didn’t put much pressure on you; she knew you were able to manage your studies since she and Wanda had put such effort into making sure you were ready for basically anything. The one who was actually putting pressure on the both of you was Tony, of course, and it was not because he was the one that made everything happen. It was because he was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to plan one of his usual big events. You had no idea why he wanted to throw something like a party for your first exam; it didn’t make much sense to you, but your mother had told you he was able to use anything as an excuse to plan something big involving drinks, music, and lots of people. 

You didn’t want a party, of course, and more so, you didn’t want the pressure of a party on your shoulders, but anyone who knew Tony was aware of the fact that you did not have a say in the matter. Your mother was the one who was going to find some dresses for the event because, for starters, you didn’t want to think about what you were going to wear and, of course, you had to study.

You had no problems studying per se, but your current problem was that all you could think about and focus on was Wanda. You also had no one to talk about it with because all of your friends, whom you had met during some of the many events Tony had planned in those two years, were sons and daughters of Tony’s rich and powerful friends. So you didn’t feel comfortable talking to them about Wanda; they obviously knew her, and it didn’t feel right. Your mother also was not someone you could talk about it with, so you found yourself keeping everything in. 

“I just can’t seem to focus, mom.” You finally gave up; you couldn’t hold it in anymore, at least the feelings. You had no intention of actually telling your mom everything, but maybe if she were aware of your current emotional state, she would ease up on you and even convince Tony to at least postpone the party. Mere seconds passed before your mother was on the couch sitting beside you, her green eyes studying you so intensely you could almost feel them digging into your skin.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” And there she was; you had not yet thought about a fake explanation for the way you were feeling, and now you absolutely had to tell her something or she was going to keep digging. 

“I just feel the pressure, I think. I don’t want to disappoint anyone, and now we need to throw a party for an exam I’m not even sure I will pass. You and Wanda have put so much thought into making sure I was ready for everything, but what if I’m not? What if I disappoint the both of you?” Funny how something that was supposed to be a fake explanation had suddenly turned into an explanation you hadn’t even considered. The idea of disappointing your mother and Wanda was terrifying; they had tried their absolute best to train you perfectly, and now, for a stupid crush, you were putting their faith on the line. 

“Lisichka, my sweet daughter. You could never disappoint me, not even in a million years. You could try to destroy the whole city, and yet you would never disappoint me. Nothing you could do would disappoint me, because I know who you are, I know how much of yourself you put into everything you do, and that’s all I want from you. If you fail, I’m going to be sad with you, because I know how important this is for you, but then I’m going to make you see that you have so many more chances and not to focus on just one little failure, because that doesn’t make you a failure. You don’t have to worry about disappointing any of us; you could never do such a thing.” Between your mother’s words and her intense gaze, you found yourself tearing up in less than a second. Of course, in even less time, you felt her arms wrap around you. At first, you chose to try and hold yourself together; you were old enough to control your emotions, and you didn’t want to worry your mother any further. However, feeling her arms hold you tightly, almost as if she wanted to be the one to hold you together, caused you to lose any control you thought you had. You started sobbing into her chest, and she just held you even tighter, stroking your back lovingly. 

Another month had passed by. You had thought of billions of excuses to call or text Wanda, even to drop by her house unannounced, but every single time you had failed to find the courage to do so. You missed the woman like crazy; you always had when you didn’t manage to see her for long periods of time, but you knew that this time it was different. You knew something had definitely changed; you knew something had broken between the two of you, and you weren't sure there was anything you could do to fix it. Each time you grabbed your phone, her number popped up on your screen, and if it was not her number, it was the few messages the two of you had exchanged. Rereading those texts was not enough anymore. You wanted to see her face, you wanted to hear her voice, you wanted to see those beautiful green eyes look at you, and you wanted to hear her laughing at those stupid jokes you made just to be able to admire her being carefree, even for just a second. 

You were sad, but also angry. How could she do that? How could she tell you those things and then just disappear as if nothing had happened? How could she not check on you even through your mother to find out how you were feeling for the exam? How could she just erase you like that? You had no expectations about her feeling the way you felt, but you thought, at least, she cared about you, even just a little bit. 

You were sad and angry, but mostly you were disappointed. 

Your mother had mentioned her a few times over the past month; sometimes she had even told you she was going over to her house, but she never asked you to join her. You just thought she had received the message from last time that you had your own stuff to do and didn’t need to be the one to check on her friends. But Wanda knew better; she knew better, and she apparently didn’t tell your mother to drag you along, and that hurt. 

You were now looking at yourself in the mirror. You had somehow convinced your mother to let you wear a suit to the party; she was definitely not very happy about it, but the two of you had compromised that you would wear at least a soft coat of makeup. You were not happy about it, but it was a small price to pay to wear what you were actually comfortable in. Looking into the mirror, you were still not convinced of how you looked; deep down, you were fully aware of the fact that you would never be convinced of it. But still, something was off about the whole outfit. 

“Mom! Can you come here for a sec?” You yelled from your room; you knew your mother was ready; she had chosen to kindly let you know every three minutes, so you were sure she could spare some time to help you out.  

“Y/n, I’ve told you we are already late, Wanda tex - oh, you look lovely, Lisichka. What do you need?” Your mother's expression and tone changed as soon as she saw you; that should’ve pleased you, but you were now focused on the fact that Wanda was going to be at the party. You hadn’t heard from her even after you took your exam; she knew what the party was for, and yet she had no idea if you had passed it or failed it. Your eyes stung at the mention of her name and at the thoughts that name brought on you, but you tried your best not to think about them. 

“Thank you, mom. I’m not convinced though; I think something’s missing, don’t you?” You looked at her with half a smile as you saw her run a hand through her hair. Your gaze then went back to your reflection in the mirror. You looked at yourself and wished Wanda was there with the two of you to help you, like she had always done with everything. You shook your head, convincing yourself that by doing so every thought would disappear. 

“Wasn’t there a vest with the suit when we bought it?” Your mother wondered, looking at you and then at the reflection as your eyes lit up. “I’m going to go grab it; you wait here.” You nodded your head watching her disappear from your bedroom and your eyes locked with the doorstep, your mind waiting for the familiar redheaded woman to enter your bedroom as soon as your mother left. Each and every thought you had in the past month or so was about Wanda. Part of you was so done with it; you wanted to erase the woman from your mind and, most importantly, you wanted to erase her from your heart.

“Found it!” Your mother yelled, rushing through the door holding the mauve vest in her hands and smiling at you. You immediately took off the blazer and put the vest over your blouse, looking into the mirror and finally being as close as satisfied as you possibly could. You smiled back at your mother, putting the blazer back on and gesturing for her to lead the way downstairs. 

The loud music was the first hint of the party having already started; the second one was the multitude of voices coming from the hallway as you and your mother made your way into the building. You had started playing with your fingers as soon as your mother had parked the car, anxiety building up rapidly with each step you took. You felt a hand on your shoulder as soon as you entered the room full of people. You raised your head, and your eyes found your mother’s sweet and encouraging gaze. You smiled at her, nodding your head as you left her behind, making your way to the host.

"Finally, the princess has shown up! Congratulations, dear. I always knew you were fully able to do amazingly in those exams." Tony hugged you while basically screaming; you would’ve heard him anyway, but you knew he was planning on everyone to hear every single word. 

An hour had passed; you had to make conversation with most of Tony’s friends and associates, your gaze always looking around for your mother, knowing even just the sight of her would’ve calmed you down. As your eyes roamed around the room each time to look for your mother, you had failed to spot Wanda even once; you had no idea where she was or if she was even there. It was weird not seeing her standing next to your mother, but then again, Tony was trying to get most of her attention for each time you would brush him off. You knew Wanda was not particularly fond of the man, so it didn’t seem that weird for her to avoid any contact with him. 

You had no idea why the thought of her not being there was making you sad; you had no intentions of seeing her, let alone speaking to her; she had hurt you way too much to just make small talk with her because you both were at a party. You had stepped into the building, making up your mind about ignoring her and avoiding any contact with her, alone or not. 

You turned around, thanking yet again another one of Tony’s friends, when your eyes met with those green ones you loved with all of your being. You felt your heart skip a beat as the woman smiled sweetly at you, but in just a few seconds that smile angered you. You had no idea what to do; for a second you wanted to greet her, even to hug her, but right the second after you wanted to scream at her and to cry and tell her every single feeling she had caused you.

You decided to do neither of the things you felt like doing; you just turned around once again and left the redhead behind you, trying once again to find your mother among those people. Your eyes just didn’t seem to reach her though; you looked and looked, but you couldn’t find her. Your chest started to feel heavy, and you began to have a difficult time catching your breath; your eyes became watery, and you had even a harder time finding your mother. You started to feel like a 3-year-old looking for her mother in a grocery shop.

Suddenly you felt two hands on both your arms, and you turned around panicked, but just as quickly everything stopped. Your mother was in front of you, her eyes worried and her hands grabbing at your skin tightly, letting you know she was there.

“Even if you don’t see me, know that my eyes are always on you.”

Crowds were not a favorite thing of yours. Having spent most of your life in hiding, all you had known was just the company of your mother, which was more than enough to make you feel safe but had made it even more difficult for you to adjust around lots of people. Your mother knew that, which was why she was willing to let you have your space, to let you deal with everything for yourself, but she was always looking out for you. You had briefly forgotten about that.

“Are you alright? Do you need to go home?” Your mother asked you; you noticed she was less worried now that she was beside you, but you knew she wanted to make sure you felt safe as well. You shook your head; you didn’t want to disappoint anyone, and leaving early from a party thrown for you seemed like a way to do so. 

“I’m alright, mom. Thank you; I just needed to see you to feel safe, and since I wasn’t having any luck finding you..." Your mother nodded; she didn’t need any explanation to know what was going on in your head about that; she knew you well enough to be able to almost prevent any anxiety attack. She held your hands tightly for a few seconds more, and then smiling at you, she went to find some other coworkers. 

 You decided to head towards the balcony to smoke a cigarette. You knew your mother would be upset about it the next time she was going to stand next to you, but you needed it more than anything at that moment. As you inhaled the first puff, you heard the glass door opening, and you focused your gaze on the flowers in front of you. Why did anyone need to be outside right that second? You needed the air to be yours alone.

“I knew I would find you here.” You closed your eyes as soon as you heard that voice; even from her breath alone, you could recognize her. Was she following you now? She had avoided you for weeks, and now this? “I saw Nat talking to you before, and I figured you were having a difficult time dealing with all these people. I still don’t know why Tony is so set on throwing this stuff for you when he knows how it makes you feel.” You heard some more steps getting closer to you, but you had nowhere to go without turning around and facing her; you were already standing close to the fence, and jumping wasn’t an option. Not a smart one, at least. “Anyway, I knew that a cigarette was probably what you needed.” Her steps got even closer to you, and you needed a way out; you needed a way not to be close to her. 

“Do I need to find a place where you wouldn’t know to look then?” Your voice came out harsher than you intended, but you just wanted to be alone. You didn’t need to feel her close to you; you didn’t need to go through all those feelings she had always made you feel but now mixed with the angry and hurt ones. All those emotions had you feeling as if you were about to go crazy, and you wanted them to just stop. You wanted your head to just stop thinking and remembering and making your heart hurt.

“Y/n… Let me..." Wanda tried to ease you into talking, but you didn’t want to; you didn’t know how. You felt all those emotions, and you were not sure you had the ability to control them all. You heard the woman behind you sigh, and once again you were reminded of her statement on your thoughts. 

“I’m not ready to talk to you, Wanda.” You put out the cigarette, and you made your way inside, leaving Wanda on the balcony alone.

Half an hour had passed, and you had managed to make some more small talk with the guests, but your thoughts were consumed by Wanda, by what she could ever tell you about what she had said and her recent behavior. Part of you desperately wanted to know, wanted to know what had happened and what was happening; however, another part of you still didn’t want to face her nor talk to her. You loved her, but she had hurt you deeply.

You managed to walk away from the room; you remembered your mother used to have her own bedroom at Tony’s house before they rescued you. You still had no idea why she would need that, but then again, you never met your grandparents, nor had she ever talked to you about them, so you didn’t know if they were still around and what had eventually happened between them. So maybe Tony was just a friend looking out for your mother when she had only herself to look after. 

Luckily your mother had shown you her old room once or twice, so you easily found it even if the building was more like a maze than a house. You closed the door behind you, and you leaned against it and sighed heavily. You looked around the room; it didn’t have much stuff in it; you didn’t know if your mother had taken everything to your house or if she hadn’t had much in her room in the first place. For some reason you believed it was the latter; you knew she had loved to decorate your house, but you had the feeling she hadn’t always been the person she was since you came around. 

You sat on the bed and took your phone into your hands. You looked for your mother’s number and sent her a quick text. 

Everything’s alright; I just needed some time away from everyone. I’m in your old room. Love you. 

In just a few seconds, your phone rang briefly; she had already texted you back. 

I saw. I’m just happy you told me. Love you more, little one. 

You smiled, reminded that she always had her eyes focused on you.

You laid on the bed; you felt exhausted and overwhelmed. You had no idea how much of it was because of the party and the room full of people and how much was because of Wanda. Your mind drifted off to the redhead once again; you wanted to hug her and yell at her at the same time; you wanted to kiss her and push her away. You wanted to tell her that you loved her and that she made you suffer like hell in just a month. 

But most of all, you wanted to fall asleep and forget about everything. 

“I know you don’t want to see me, but I can’t stand the thought of you hating me.” You heard the words before you heard the door opening, and you jumped from the bed. Wanda looked at you worried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” She took some steps to get closer to you, and you sighed. You had no strength left to push her away again; being away from her took every ounce of strength you had in your body. 

“You hurt me, Wanda.” You stated without looking at her, you knew you would read all over her face the guilt she was feeling and the hurt your words caused her. You couldn’t see those emotions on her face; otherwise, you would cave in and apologize when she was the one who had started everything. 

The redhead sat next to you on the bed. You heard her hands move around, probably looking for something to do because she wasn’t sure she was allowed to touch you to comfort you. Finally, her hand rested beside yours. You felt your heart skip a beat once again because of her; she wanted to feel close to you, and you were the one preventing her from doing so. For once, you weren’t the one trying to control your impulses around her, trying not to touch her, feel her, or kiss her constantly. Even though what she wanted to do was nowhere near the things in your mind, for once she was the one restraining herself.

“I know. I also know I owe you an explanation for everything, but I don’t know how much I can actually tell you. There are some things that are not mine to say, some things that would require even further explanation, and I just can’t tell you.” You felt your heart beat faster, your blood boiling into your veins. She wanted to explain to you everything, but she couldn't. You felt as if she was messing with you again; you wanted to know; you needed to know everything she was hiding from you. You needed to understand what she was thinking and what she wanted with you. Her not being able to was just not a good enough explanation for you; you just couldn't bear anymore the thought of her not wanting to do anything with you anymore; you needed to know everything. 

“I don’t care, Wanda. Either you explain everything to me or you can go. I cannot keep playing games with you. You never even checked to know how I was doing; you knew how anxious I was about the exams, and you never even texted to see if I was ready for it. Fuck, you didn’t even ask if I had passed the exam!” Your hands flew in the air as you talked, as you exasperatedly tried to make her understand the way you were feeling and the way she was making you feel. You couldn't bear any more excuses; you only wanted the truth. 

“That’s not true; I checked with your mother every week. I needed to know you were okay and that you were studying. I just wasn’t ready to talk to you yet. I’m not, still. But I don’t want you to hate me, not when..." You noticed her voice get caught in her throat; she immediately stopped herself from what she was about to tell you. When what? What was going on inside her head? She began playing with her fingers once again, and you suddenly missed the light contact your hands were making just seconds before. “I can hear your thoughts, y/n. I cannot tell you why, because to this day I do not know. I have some information, but part of me doesn’t really care. I know who I am, and I am fine with that. I have managed over the years to control this ability; I can now hear people’s thoughts only if I want to. In the beginning, I always heard them, and it drove me crazy, but with some training, I managed to control everything.” You couldn't believe your ears; you didn't even want to believe her. Why would she have that kind of ability? You weren't living in a supernatural world; you would know if you were, so why? However, it made absolutely no sense for her to just make up something like that, something she knew you wouldn't believe. She wouldn't think of such a lie, knowing it would've just made everything worse. So if it were true, it definitely was a problem. A problem that made you very, very angry at Wanda.

“So you willingly hear my thoughts? How dare you?” You stood up looking at her with so much anger; you were so astonished by her words. You couldn't believe what she had done. How could she? Not only she never told anything, nor your mother, for that matter, but she also forced your mind and heard everything you had ever thought about.

“No, no! That’s the problem with you; I can’t help it. I have no idea if we have some kind of connection or if it has anything to do with your biological parents. Maybe your thoughts are just so loud, so intense that I can’t keep them out of my mind; I don’t know. I don’t know. I just know that I’ve always tried not to hear them, but I just never found a way with you.” She immediately rushed to you; she probably was already worried you hated her, and now that she had revealed what she could actually do, she worried she would lose you for good. Her hands found your arms, and she began stroking them, trying to calm you down. Part of you didn't want to feel her touch, but as soon as her hands were on you, they managed to make you feel safe and loved even.

“So, you know about..." The courage to speak left you in a few seconds; you didn't know how you could tell her. Even if she knew, even if she hadn't told you off about it, you weren't able to tell her that you liked that, that you even loved her. You blushed slightly, remembering what she had just told you—that she could hear every thought of yours, so she could hear you in that moment, and you tried your best not to think about anything.

Don't think. Don't think. Don't think. Don't think.

“I know about everything.” Wanda took your hands in hers and smiled sweetly at you. Of course she had heard you. You looked away; you tried to focus your gaze on whatever wasn't the woman standing in front of you. She knew everything—every stupid and filthy thought you ever had. You hated yourself now. “It never bothered me, Malyshka. Not once. You had no intention for me to know about it; you weren’t being intentionally disrespectful. At first it felt flattering; you know, I thought it was something that would eventually dissipate as you met other people. But then I realized what was really going on, and I was sad for you because you deserve all the love in the world, and I wasn’t able to give you that. ”

“I know that already, Wanda. I’ve been thinking these same things for a long time now; I don’t need you to reject me without me asking.” You whisked away your hands from hers. You knew she would reject you if she were to find out about your feelings for her, which was one of the reasons you never even dared to dream about telling her. But now that she knew, here she was, in fact rejecting you, but you never asked for this; you never would’ve told her anything, and you felt like you didn’t deserve her rejection this way.

“Let me finish. You wanted me to explain everything to you; let me do it.” Wanda tried once again to take your hands in hers, but you walked away. You couldn’t bear hearing any more words coming from her mouth; you knew they were just going to hurt you even more, and you were already hurting enough at the moment.

“I get it; I do. You have always been able to hear my thoughts, and so you decided it was time for you to push me away. I understand. ”

“You don’t. I don’t want to push you away; I just don’t want to feel the way I feel about you because you’re 20 and I’m 34; it’s just not right.” You stopped pacing around the room as soon as you heard those words. What was she on about now? What feelings was she talking about? You turned around and looked at her, shocked and confused.

“The - The way you feel?" She possibly couldn’t mean what you were thinking about. There was no way the woman you loved so much felt the same way about you; there was no way she wanted to kiss you the way you wished she would. You suddenly felt hope in your heart, and you hated it; you were just going to get hurt again. You hated yourself for even considering that she could reciprocate your feelings. You hated her for making you doubt everything you were so sure about.

“Everything you feel, I feel it too. Everything you want to do, I want to do it, too. I have for some time now, and when I hear the things you think about me, I feel myself losing control. But I can’t lose control with you; you’re way too young, and you’re Natasha’s daughter. She would kill me.” Those words were spoken with such love and tenderness you felt your knees weaken. Wanda was in front of you once again in a heartbeat, her hands on your face and her beautiful green eyes looking into your soul. Her lips were much more inviting than ever now that you knew about her feelings for you. You felt yourself lost in your desire for her as her hand slowly made its way to your own lips, caressing them in a way that made you feel like she could almost taste them through that simple touch.

𝚃𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @imaginaryblogger01 @unique0003 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨!

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Devil And An Angel

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: During one of Tony's parties, both of your girlfriends tease you and try to tempt you into giving into your sinful desires.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Threesome, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral sex, Double Penetration, Dirty talk, Praise, Squirting, Dom Natasha/Switch Wanda/Switch Reader, Brief Aftercare.

General Masterlist

“Are you really not going to tell me?” you complain, looking between both your girlfriends with a small pout.

“You’ll find out soon enough Kotenok,” Natasha coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at the action before remembering how you were supposed to be acting grumpy.

“But why can’t I know now?” they laugh at how eager you are to find out what they are going to wear. Tony had decided to throw a party tonight, every couple/relationship must dress up as something together to change it up a bit and have some fun. The problem was, your two girlfriends were reluctant to tell you what they were dressing up as and assured you that anything you wore would be fine.

“Because it’s a surprise,” Wanda says while wrapping her arms around your middle and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now go and get ready and we’ll meet you at the party.” Grumbling, you left to go and get ready, imagining what they could have installed for you.

When you arrived at the party you had to give Tony his dues, the party looked amazing and it was a brilliant idea to have people dress up. You looked around trying to figure out what people were meant to be, smiling at how much effort everyone had put in. Steve and Bucky had dressed up as people from the 1940s, their old fashioned clothing probably from their youth. Peter and MJ were dressed as mad scientists, Peter fluffing his hair up to look crazy and constantly checking to see if it was alright, much to MJ’s amusement. Clint looked so done with the whole party despite it just starting, dressed up in a Santa costume that was from when he pretended to be the jolly man at Christmas for his children. Laura wore an elf hat and a simple dress that suited her, but she was too busy trying not to laugh at her husband. Tony and Pepper just looked incredible, their theme most likely meant to scream money and wealth.

Suddenly, you felt two people lean on your shoulders, their different perfumes invading your senses as you turned to look at them. On your left was Natasha who was dressed in a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, devil horns sticking out of her fiery red hair, black, smokey eyeshadow making her eyes pop and a sinister smirk on her face. Wanda was on your right, dressed in a white, flowy dress with a gold halo in her hair, a soft look on her face compared to Natasha. You chuckled at them, dressed as a Devil and an Angel on each of your shoulders.

“You both look beautiful,” the compliment causes them both to smile at you, the two of them having a turn to compliment your choice of clothing as well. You leaned in to give Wanda a kiss, innocent and sweet, and then turned to Natasha who had no shame in sliding her tongue into your mouth, a small moan escaping you at the action.

“Don’t be tempted by her,” Wanda whispered in your ear, her voice soft while her arm interlocked with yours. “Or there will be no reward later.” You stifled the noise that wanted to come out and just watched as Natasha winked at you before walking off.

Wanda and yourself followed behind and you had to try your hardest to not drift your gaze lower on Natasha’s back. The three of you ended up on a sofa talking with Steve and Bucky, them rambling on about a story from their past while you three nodded along. You were paying attention until Natasha moved closer, her mouth on your ear as her breath tickled the side of your face.

“Do you know how hard I want to fuck you right now?” she purred quietly, “Have you trembling with pleasure as I thrust my fingers deep inside you? Or even better, my cock.” You groan at her words, low enough that no one other than Natasha could hear, making her smirk in victory as she works you up. Her hand grips your thigh, squeezing the skin and moving up higher teasingly before drifting down to rest on your knee. “I could have you coming in my mouth right now in that bathroom,” her gaze travels to the ladies room on the other side of the room, your eyes following as they darken with lust. “Come on, let's have some fun,” she bites down on your ear while no one looks before pulling away and giving you a predatory look that sends another wave of arousal through you, your panties definitely soaked as you clench your thighs together.

After a few moments, Natasha excuses herself to the toilets, her eyes staying trained on you as she gets up and starts to walk away. You remember Wanda’s earlier words and reluctantly stay still in your seat. You know this is a test, Natasha staying true to her outfit and trying to get you to sin with her, give into her temptation and end up with a punishment equivalent to hell. That however doesn’t make it any easier as you suffer with the results of her dirty words and teasing.

You don’t realise that Steve and Bucky had left, leaving you alone with Wanda as Natasha waits out in the bathroom to see if you crack. Her touches are far more innocent that Natasha’s, her hands interlocking with yours, her thumb running over the back of your hand.

“You’re being such a good girl,” she whispers, the praise making you whine slightly. “I bet you’re so wet for us both right now,” your eyes widen at her words, not expecting her to be in on the teasing.

“I thought angels were supposed to be innocent and pure,” you say, hoping she’d stop the torment. She just lets out a low chuckle and smiles at you, making you nervous for what else was to come.

“The devil was an angel once,” she comments, her voice raspy and sultry, “Who says we can’t be tempted as well.” Her hand goes to your thigh, scratching through your clothing and even going as far as your inner thigh near your core to draw invisible patterns. Your breathing hitches and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything.

Soon Natasha returns, having given up waiting for you, and takes her seat to your left again. She notices the prominent blush on your cheeks and how your hand is gripping the cushion of the sofa, knuckles almost turning white.

“So Y/n,” Natasha starts, drawing your attention away from Wanda’s hand on your leg, “Are you enjoying the party?” you go to answer her question but your breathing stops when your thoughts change.

You’re tied to the bed while Natasha roughly kisses your lips, pulling out moan after moan as her tongue explores the roof of your mouth. Her hands grope at your chest, pinching and pulling at your nipples causing sighs to leave your lips. Wanda was in between your thighs, looking up at you with an innocent look, and licked a stripe up your core, her tongue gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” the spy moves closer to you, her chest pressed up against your shoulder as she talks into your ear. “I’ll ask you one more time,” You look over to Wanda who has a sly grin on her face before Natasha grabs your attention again by sucking on your neck, “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” is all you could manage out in a breathless whisper, mind clouded with arousal and desire as both women relentlessly tease you.

“Are you sure?” Wanda whispers in your other ear, the hand that was teasing your inner thighs moving to drag her fingers over your clothed pussy under your dress, the fabric soaked with your arousal. “Because I'm sure there are more exciting things we could be doing,” you stifle a moan when she starts to circle your clit through your panties and move your hand to sit on top of hers.

“I just want to be good,” your whine has them both grinning, “I’ll do anything you want me to, just please let me be good for you.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Natasha drags you away towards the elevator to get to your shared apartment, Wanda quickly on your tail.

Once you reach the bedroom, Natasha immediately straddles you on the bed, her mouth descending onto yours as she roughly kisses you and slips her tongue into your mouth. The whole thing is hot, her hands tugging your hair to pull moans out of you, her tongue tracing the roof of your mouth while her hips grind down harshly onto yours as she uses you for her own pleasure for the moment. Instinctively, your hands go to her waist, guiding her movements as she ruts against you.

“Fuck,” she rasps out as you both pull away breathless, Wanda unzipping the spy’s dress as she climbs off your lap and passionately kisses the witch. You watch in awe as their tongues fight for dominance, hands roaming freely across each other's body as they undress each other. You can’t move, frozen on the spot as bare skin is exposed to you, Natasha’s red dress dropping to the floor while Wanda’s is pulled over her head and discarded carelessly somewhere. They wear lingerie matching their outfits, Natasha wearing a black and red lace set while Wanda has a gold and white one on.

“Enjoying the show?” Wanda teases, swaying her hips as they both crawl onto the bed to join you. Her lips crash to yours, nothing innocent about her now as her hands rid you of your clothes. Natasha is now behind you, her chest pressing into your back while she bites at your neck, littering you with purple and red marks and sighing wantonly against your ear to make you shudder. Wanda’s hands cup your breasts unceremoniously as you revel in the pleasure, her running her fingers over your hardened nipples and tugging playfully. You lean your head back onto Natasha who moves to nibble on your ear, her hand coming up to rest on your throat, a pitiful moan escaping you.

“Don’t worry Kotenok,” She purrs, “You’ll get what you want soon.” You can feel her smirking into your skin as your hips buck at the contact of her knee slotting between your legs. “But first Wanda has a question, Don’t you Wands?” Her green eyes snap over to the witch who pulls back from the sloppy kiss with you, her cheeks flushed and eyes darkening.

“How do you feel about you and Nat fucking me at the same time?” she whispers against your lips and your eyes widen at the question.

“Fuck that would be hot,” you sigh out, imagining Wanda in between you and the spy as you pound into her from both sides. “Are you sure you want that?” She bites her lip at you sultrily and nods her head before moving forwards to press her lips back to yours.

“On your back baby,” she husks out between kisses and you move away from them both to lay on your back near the top of the bed. Wanda kisses down your body, licking over the marks Natasha made soothingly before ghosting her hot breath over your nipples and then kissing your inner thighs that were slick with your desire for them. “I’m going to give you your reward for being so good for us,” Her breath fans over your core, your hips bucking at the feeling which causes her to place a strong hand on your hip to keep you still. She licks through your folds, her tongue swirling around your clit while her free hand moves to be near your entrance. Her fingers gather your wetness before she thrusts two fingers straight into you, your back arching off the bed as you let out a guttural moan. Her mouth sucks at your clit while she pumps her fingers into you, your hands fisting in her hair as she eats you out

Moans pour out of your mouth when she curls her fingers and you almost scream when you feel her moan into you loudly. Your eyes wander away from the brunette between your thighs and to the redhead behind her. You hear a click of a bottle and assume she’s used some lube to ease one of her fingers into Wanda’s tight hole and let her get used to the feeling and stretch. Wanda’s face moves to kiss at your thigh for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling of something in her ass before continuing to reward you. You softly stroke her hair and let her take her time and watch as Natasha moves to have Wanda sit on her face, her finger slowly stretching her tight hole out.

The room then fills with your moans and Wanda’s muffled ones as Natasha brings her close to coming and manages to work her up to having three fingers pumping in and out of her ass. Your legs tighten around Wanda’s face as you come with a scream, body spasming with pleasure as you ride out your high grinding against the witches mouth. She follows soon after, clenching around Natasha’s fingers and tongue as she screams into you, biting down on your inner thigh to muffle the scream. The feeling was painful but also pleasurable and you’re certain you're going to have a dark mark there later on.

Natasha moves from under her, not wanting to overstimulate her, and carefully pulls her fingers out. You pull Wanda up your body, peppering kisses over her face as she tries to steady her breathing.

“You did so well for us,” you praise, still breathless from your own mind blowing orgasm as you talk to her. She hums in response and slowly kisses you, the taste of yourself on her tongue making you moan into her mouth. “Are you still up for us both?” you whisper against her lips, your hands stroking her back as she presses her body weight onto you.

“Yeah,” she murmurs back and you see Natasha move to get the strap ons before lubing them both up so it doesn't hurt her.

“Remember your safewords?” Natasha asks while Wanda gets off you so you can put the harness on.

“Green for ok, Yellow for slow down and Red for Stop,” Natasha smiles at Wanda softly then pecks her lips and helps guide her to hover above your plastic cock. Your hands move the tip of the toy to rub against her clit teasing before letting her sink down onto it. She moans lewdly as her hips meet yours and slowly starts to rock back and forth. She braces her arms next to your head and moans into a kiss as you thrust up into her gently, her hips starting a rhythm with yours.

Natasha soon has her harness on and moves to kneel behind Wanda while her hands slow her movements down. You whisper comforting words to the brunette, checking if she’s still ok by asking her for a colour, as Natasha slowly pushes the head of the toy into her ass, a loud gasp leaving the witch as she screws her eyes shut. You’re both patient as you let Wanda adjust to the toy, Natasha soon having the whole toy inside her and letting the pain fade to pleasure.

Experimentally, Wanda moves forwards slightly then pushes back, a low groan escaping her as she enjoys the feeling of Natasha and yourself deep inside her. Natasha starts a gentle pace of thrusting in and out of her while you swallow her moans with your mouth and thrust your hips up into her. Soon Wanda starts to move in time with you both, as soon as you pull out, Natasha pushes in and vice versa and her moans become louder.

“Fuck,” she moves to lean backwards against Natasha, who wraps a firm hand around her middle to keep her upright, while your hand moves to circle her clit. “Harder,” She sighs out, the two of you listening and increasing the force at which you pump your hips into her. “Faster,” the sound of skin slapping echoes around the room as you pound into her from underneath and Natasha snaps her hips against her. Wanda’s breasts bounce with each thrust and her legs start to shake as she nears her orgasm. “Please, I’m so close, don't stop,” begs tumble out her mouth as her hips move frantically between the two of you.

With a loud scream, liquid gushes out of her around your cock as she comes, her hips stuttering as her hands grip behind her onto Natasha to stop her body from collapsing forwards. You both slow down your thrusts as she rides out her high, her legs spasming around you while her hands fall off the spy to rest on your chest while she pants for breath. Natasha kisses along her neck and back while she calms down and when you see her wince at the feeling of being so full, you motion for Natasha to slowly pull out. She whines at the motion and soon moves off your lap to lay on the bed next to you.

You quickly discard the harness while Natasha moves to the bathroom to start a bath for you three and pull the witch close to you to murmur praise to her. Her body naturally moves towards you, her face tucked into your neck as she tries to fall asleep, her body exhausted from coming so hard. When Natasha returns, you carry her to the bath and gently lower her in and climb in behind her so she can lean back into your embrace. Natasha also climbs in, helping clean Wanda off and start her aftercare before quickly washing herself from any sweat.

“Are you ready for bed milaya?” Natasha murmurs into the witch’s hair after placing a soft kiss. She nodded back sleepily and the spy helped her dry off before taking her to bed. You quickly drain the tub and dry off yourself before joining them in bed. Wanda curls her body into Natasha but when she feels your presence next to her, she moves her hand back in search of yours and she places it around her middle. You smile at her drowsy actions and kiss them both goodnight before drifting off to sleep.

[phoenixyfriend]

Tony Stark & Natasha Romanova, now in Star Wars

IDK if you folks were ever MEGA into crossovers but did you ever engage with the kind that can more or less be summarized as "isekai but the person 'hit by truck-kun' is a character from a different canon?"

Because that's what this is.

Tony Stark isekai'd into Star Wars (random planet) after dying in Endgame. He knows the movies, but not the supplemental material, as even by the time TPM came out, he was thirty and fucked up and making a name for himself in war. Bad times.

Tony wakes up sixteen and with Nothing to his name but his skills. He does not speak the language. Mostly gets by doing shit like skinning potatoes for a kitchen and pulling weeds and whatnot while he catches up on Basic. (He is apparently fluent, or at least conversational, in French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, and Dari. So Basic would be his Seventh language, and while four of those can be lumped into 'if you learn one, the next will be easier,' Dari is wildly unrelated, so I'd say he could pick up Basic a bit faster than average, especially with 16yo brain elasticity.)

A toddler, two years old with intensely red hair, runs into his shins one day and yells his name very clearly. He looks down, is a little confused, and then a nearby carer from an orphanage jogs up yelling "Nat!" The toddler is Natasha Romanoff. She remembers everything, including dying, but is about twenty-five pounds soaking wet and NOBODY will take her seriously.

It takes some… effort, to explain the situation to the carer. Yes, Tony knows Nat. He worked with uh…. her 'older brother, a man named Clint.' Tony does not currently have the resources for anyone to legally give him custody of a toddler but he's got some motivation to secure housing and a stable income.

He does that. Gets Natasha with him because of course he has to do that. It's the one person he knows. It's Nat.

Turns out she's Force Sensitive, though. A 'natural extension' of her more skillgrinding abilities to read/manipulate people. Tony is not Force Sensitive but he DID recently have a medical episode that took him to a thankfully-government-funded clinic that informed him he has a Bad Heart and will require a pacemaker despite being seventeen.

A Jedi finds Nat while passing through and they Discuss Their Options. This is when Nat is about four. There is a heavy discussion about how her mind is older than her body, so the Jedi would need to be ready for that, but also Tony needs to discuss this with Nat, who was like thirty-nine(?) when she died and thus more than capable of making her own decisions.

Despite fandom generally painting Tony as the most selfish of the Avengers and Natasha as the most coldly practical, they are still heroes who put in some Fucking Effort to become better people, and they come to the conclusion that Natasha would do much more to help this galaxy as a Jedi than as some kid in poverty on a no-name planet. So off she goes!

She's like five years younger than Obi-Wan, the story reveals.

Tony is a bit aimless and the work he's BEEN doing (probably laying down electrical lines or something at this point, IDK, he got into construction or something) gets sideswept by Damage To A Tool. He knows how to fix the tool, but he does not have a forge.

There is a forge in town. He goes to it and says that he can't afford to ask to have it fixed, but he knows how to do it himself, so could he borrow access for a small fee?

This is a Mandalorian armorer. They say no. In fact, they tell him, that would be significantly more expensive than just getting it fixed.

Buuuuuuuuuut for Reasons, the armorer decides that Tony (now 18-19 physically) can do it so long as the Armorer supervises. Tony is competent Enough that the Armorer gives him a datapad and tells him to read it and come back in a week to discuss the topic. Tony warns that Basic is far from his first language and he doesn't have a whole lot of free time, so he probably won't have read it by then. That's fine, they'll just discuss what he has read.

It's about Mando culture, in a mildly propaganda-y way, and Tony comes back to Argue About Religion more than anything. He thinks the Armorer is proselytizing, which they kind of are, but they are also more than happy to discuss the lines between the Mando culture as ethnicity and culture and religion and so on.

This becomes a regular occurence. Tony has made A Friend who has started offering him a side gig doing Basic Village Blacksmith Work that the Armorer deems too menial, like "horse"shoes.

Tony is offered an apprenticeship that he did not expect, on the condition of Becoming Mandalorian.

This is. A heavy decision.

However. Tony is a guy who is at least partly defined by his cool armor. Mandalorians are defined by their cool armor. He has been told, several times, that there are multiple ways to be a Mandalorian. So he accepts, because he decides it's worth for the chance to be somebody who can make a difference in a way he currently can't.

Ten years later, 'Initiate Romanova' goes up to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they prepare to leave, and neatly informs them that she has a feeling they are going to have a Bad Time on their mission in Mandalore, and that if they need emergency shelter from enemies, to go to an Armorer by the name of Tony Stark, because that's her brother so she knows that he's going to be friendly to Jedi. (Tony has sent her a small handful of messages, through channels both official and not, about big life events.)

Of course, shit hits the fan and the two plus Satine end up finding Tony's forge and he hides them in his Underground Bunker, which actually has a tunnel to a cave system that is safer than the bunker itself. Because reasons. (IN A CAVE. WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS.)

He has helper droids! They are named indirectly after friends from the Past Life, things like Spangles.

On their way back after the mission they swing by to say hi and he asks them to bring something to Natasha and it's a matryoshka doll set he made based on the Avengers (it goes based on age so the outermost is Thor, followed by I think Bruce, Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision), as well as a plushie he had custom made by somebody in town of a Bird With Archery Gear, even though she's too old for that stuff.

Even among the Jedi, Natasha is WEIRD and SERIOUS and everyone's pretty damn sure she's going to be a Shadow, or at least do a HECK of a lot of undercover work.

IDK how this plays out but Tony is definitely keeping an eye on politics so he can figure out the Palpatine rise to power and remind Natasha in case she's forgotten because when they first split they didn't, either of them, know what to expect in regards to her memory given the whole Baby Brain issue.

"Why is Tony an Armorer"

Okay some more thoughts!

I think Tony's aggressively atheist and consistently watching whoever claims to be Mand'alor with a critical eye in case he has to step in, and does not take any references to ka'ra with any real seriousness. That said. He's an Armorer now. A weird one who refuses like half his clients for Ethics Reasons, but technically a cultural authority figure who's allowed to argue with the Mand’alor.

@penpalpixie:

fsr the initial meeting scenario with the armorer bugs me,like would they really just let him" but tbf Tony knows how to steamroll people and could probably dissect the forge in an instant.

Which, yeah, in my defense, I put this together in about two hours so some of it's a bit wonk? BUT. @threebea had a good suggestion for how/why the Armorer had Tony actually do things in the forge instead of telling him to scram:

Maybe Tony has been doing some 'crafting' on the side maybe droid repairs or modifications which is how the Armorer first sort of hears about him and then one day there's the kid that people have been mentioning the Stars aligned here's a pamphlet. He can't make a living off gizmos in his situation since most of what Star wars has is advanced tech and to do anything impressive he would need more resources and more of an understanding of the mathematics of this universe (Stares at ceiling one night trying to figure out if the law of relativity would be a thing here). That might slow him down just like… his math doesn't actually work here so on top of language he would have to learn things to do complicated stuff that he could already buy for a credit. But with armory it's concepts he knows well and adding weapons to armor especially no lethal ones is something he also knows. Mandalorian armor with UNI BEAM

When it comes to canon, he knows THE big thing (Palpatine is Sidious) and basically nothing else. He thinks he remembers the clones being Mando? but he's honestly not even sure he remembers the original Fett's first name correctly. He knows the guy is a Fett, because Boba was a cultural mainstay for Tony's childhood, so like, it was nice to have some backstory, but he's honestly not sure how likely "that baby Mand'alor that went missing" is to being Boba's plot-relevant dad. Could be an uncle for all he knows, or just a guy with the same last name.

@firebirdeternal:

I feel like to keep things fair Tony should be able to scale up a little harder than the average Mandalorian. Yeah all his tech knowledge is a bit out-dated and he isn't likely to get an arc reactor running in a way that'll be more powerful than anything locally available, but I feel like he'd adapt pretty darn quickly to available tech and start Improving Things Nat's skills all translate extremely well, once she's not got stumpy toddler body she's basically back to her old level PLUS telekinesis and wibbly force nonsense although I understand if that's also not the focus of the fic, being less "And now there's some Avengers Here (Powerset)" and more "And now there's some Avengers Here (Attitudes and Characters)"

Nat is very excited to Break Into Tony's Cave.

NGL this was initially going to be a Tony Raises Nat thing but I couldn't ultimately justify her NOT going the Jedi route after I realized I wanted her to be Sensitive.

There was also a discarded plot idea about her being a little older and having gone undercover in death watch, because Tony got kidnapped to work for them and got through to her, where she gets to use her Bites as a teen but I scrapped it.

I do think she successfully argues to her Master to visit him at 14 to get light armor though.

Nat's the sneakiest little initiate and also. Very, very controlled in the scary way during spars.

Bea:

Natasha as a Jedi is so good. Like, she would probably have a bit of dissonance between Jedi training and the training she received as a child, and it might help her work through some things. Nat: I've known Yoda for three days but if anything happened to him I would kil-- wait uh (pivots) I would be very sad. She would try to sneak up on council members. It is like a kitten stalking a cat on the outside, but also she's a grown woman and wants to be that good. (AU of this If Quinlan ever saw this he'd adopt her: Quinlan: Tholme I found a new padawan sister. Get training Tholme: [literally just finished with Quinlan. Had planned to take a vacation. Meditate. Drink. He loves his kid but needs literally a moment here] Tholme: She's seven. Quinlan: I was four. Tholme: … Quinlan: She has a secret tragic background toooo I know you like that 😄 Tholme: [Sigh] Nat: …wait is he supposed to be Sherlock Holmes. I think he's space Sherlock Holmes. Need to ask Tony if Star Wars had Sherlock Holmes? lol yeah Tholme just feels like he could blend well with an avengers story, and a Black Widow story in particular)

Not joking when I say I considered if I could squeeze Tholme into the timeline.

Tony sends her music files that he thinks sounds Particularly Ballet to her because he remembers how much she liked dancing, as the main or even only positive thing from her Red Room training, and how she once said that if she hadn't become a spy, she thinks she'd have liked to be a ballerina.

The first time they see each other in person in years is her visiting for baby armor at 14 and is hesitant to hug him because like. Yeah he's her "brother" and there were a few years where they were acting as such and he was helping her with Basic Tasks that she doesn't like to think about too much because it's embarrassing, and they cuddled THEN, because she was Physically Baby, but they're just coworkers in reality, right? Should she hug him? If only to sell the bit to her Jedi Master?

Tony is also not the most huggy person and isn't sure if HE should hug Nat because he remembers jokey stabbing threats from when they were Avengers and like. Does she still feel that way, now that she's not a bumbling like tot?

They are both unsure of if hugging is on the table and it's the Jedi Master who says "you know, you're allowed to hug, if you want" under the impression that they aren't sure if the Jedi would allow it. And then the hug is very tight and loving because at least subconsciously they DID both want that.

The Jedi Master takes a pic.

Bea:

Jedi master: (aw) It's one of those "we've been in life or death situations together and also grew up together kinda sorta and also we're trauma bonded," and the first opportunity to solidify Family as their dynamic they both jump in feet first. And both of them were like. Extremely lonely children probably. In different ways but still.

(It's why the Hawkeye plushie didn't make her CRY, per se, but she does start keeping it in her bed even though she's Too Old for these things.)

When it comes to hugging, Nat is understandably concerned about overstepping and like. "Taking" Morgan's place. (I'm going with Tony and Nat being friends (or at least friendly) from A1 to A2, and during the blip she stopped by for dinner once in a while. Nat doing her best to bring Child Appropriate Gifts for Morgan (she misses being Aunt Nat for the Barton kids).) Or as Bea put it: Tony: Are you spying on me or are we doing people things? Nat: Can't it be both?

Anyway, their dynamic is a weird little midpoint once they're in Star Wars but then they get to a point in the armor making where Tony takes a break on a bench and she slips in under his arm to cuddle and it's just Nice (even though he's kinda sweaty and gross from the blacksmithing).

Bea:

Tony: ….. so……. is Yoda… does he look like… is he…. Nat: …???? Tony: You saw the Muppets right? Is he still a Muppet? Nat: [totally has seen the Muppets] what's a Muppet? Tony: You're killing your brother, Nat ;A;

Also the comedy of having MULTIPLE "secret languages" that nobody can translate.

It's handy, too. Between her and Tony, but also lots of languages to give different uses to. Can teach one to a specific faction for communication. OH, the poor Threepio units! She got stuck in a room with one once, and don't get my wrong, they can pick up a language fast, but they need to hear long enough sampling of it. Nat: I'm not teaching you stop asking I do agree too that Tony and Nat no matter their circumstances would be working towards stopping Palpatine. Like is this a real space is this a dream is this another dimension that just happens to be like a movie in ours? Doesn't matter the dictator is going down.

The Jedi Master is somewhat aware of the whole 'used to be an adult, sort of' thing. I don't know that they believe she's linearly matured but probably they think it's something like what I did in Jedi Babies It's definitely more explicit with a mind healer she got assigned soon after arrival.

She didn't decide whether to play it straight and "get help" or just try to game the system until she was actually sitting down. But she'd been having screaming night terrors about things she experienced in her first life, so.

Pixie:

She meets Anakin after TPM (if it's not avoided) when Obi-Wan's trying to settle him in and goes "ah, I know how to handle this kid." At some point Anakin and Tony end up sending each other various schematics.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s voice sends a bristle up your neck as his apartment door opens. You crinkle the mostly empty bag of pretzels you discovered in the back of the cupboard. They’re stale. “I got you a surprise.” 

He strolls in with his usual valiant triumph. You sneer as you smell something rancid. He has a paper bag in his hands and a reusable shopping bag on his elbow. You clamp your lips tight and gag, putting your fist to your mouth. 

“Oh god,” you choke out, “oh--” You race over to the sink and wretch. “What is that?” You spew up the belly full of pretzels. “It smells like dogshit.” 

“Shwarma... Tony suggested it--” 

“Get it away from me! I asked for pickles!” You snarl and grip the counter as you puke. Your whole body shakes as you empty your guts. 

“No problem, don’t gotta be rude about it.” 

“You did this to me,” you snap between mouthfuls of bile.  

He puts down the grocery bag and walks out with the paper one. You grumble and roll your eyes back against hot tears. 

You’re left trembling and barely standing as you cling to the edge of the granite. This is miserable. If you’re not soul-suckingly hungry, you’re sick to the bone. You close your eyes as your mind stirs along with your stomach. 

All those things he’s said. The little snippets of what could or might happen. The uncertainties. ‘Your symptoms could be worse’ or ‘we don’t know what the serum will do’. What are you? A lab rat! 

You turn on the faucet without lifting your head to rinse the vomit down the drain. You would rather have stayed with Barrett. That thought, that mistaken whim, fades away. No, you wouldn’t. You’d rather not deal with either of them. 

“I called a doctor. He’ll be by later to check on you. Make sure everything’s fine,” he affirms. As if that’s some comfort. You’d prefer if he’d just take you somewhere to get rid of the thing. “Hey, I can’t hear what you’re thinking but I can hear your heart. If you’re mad, tell me.” 

“Why do you think... I’m mad?” You pant and pause to rinse out your mouth, spitting the water carelessly at the sink. You push yourself straight and huff. “You don’t care at all. You’re not the one...” you clutch your stomach. “...suffering.” 

“I care. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” he argues. 

“Sure,” you drag your feet over to him, “where are the fucking pickles?” 

“Just...” he bends down as you do and catches your hand before you can reach into the bag. “Sit down and relax. I’ll get you whatever you need.” 

“What I need is an abortion--” 

“Shut the hell up,” he keeps a hold on your hand and yanks you up. “Don’t you say that to me again. Got it.” 

“Ow,” you wince and writhe in his grasp. “It was a fucking joke--” 

“First, it’s not funny. Second, watch your language.” 

You furrow your brow and wriggle until he lets you go. You rub your chafed skin and back up, “fine, Captain. Your order is my command.” 

You slump away and sit at the table. Being still reminds you of the small aches that are getting a bit more noticeable each time you stop. In your hips, your back, even your tits. You lean on the table with one elbow and watch him. He takes out a large jar of pickles. 

“Chocolate sauce?” You ask. 

“You didn’t say,” he goes to the drawer and grabs a fork. He brings both to you and puts them on the table. 

You pop the lid off with almost no effort. You hesitate for a moment but your hunger overtakes you. You reach in with two fingers and pluck out a thick dill. You bite into it, the juices flowing down your chin.  

“Mmmph,” you gnaw on it until it’s gone. Your cheeks are full as Steve backs up.  

“I did get chocolate. Oreos and some candy bars but you really shouldn’t eat too much of them--” 

“Give them,” you demand as you shake a hand at him. 

He sighs and drops them next to the pickles. 

“You should try something more substantial. I could do up an omelette or chicken and rice--” 

“Bland,” you dismiss his suggestion as you tear open the pack of oreos. You make a sandwich with two of the cookies and half a pickle. You shove half in your mouth and growl. 

“God...” he mutters. 

You look at him with a flash of rag. You chew and swallow and stand. 

“Now you think I’m gross, huh?” 

“No,” he watches you placidly. “I’m just concerned--” 

“You weren’t that night when you didn’t put a damn condom on. Fucking a stranger.” 

“I just told you to watch your language,” he sniffs. 

“You’re not my goddamn father. I haven’t seen him in a decade and good riddance.” You stuff the rest of the cookies and pickle into your mouth. 

“Right.” 

You tilt your head and munch rapidly, another streak of agitation rising. 

“What? You think I have daddy issues? Funny how men say that instead of thinking that they might be the issue.” 

“I didn’t say--” 

“No, you’re just standing there like—like a dumbass.” 

“Last time,” he warns. 

“Or what? What are you going to do, Steve Rogers? Can’t get me drunk this time, so maybe you’ll just hold me down and ra--” 

“Don’t,” he grabs you by a fistful of hair. He’s fast and strong. You yelp. “That’s not what happened. You wanted it. You said so.” 

“I was blacked out. I don’t remember,” you sneer through your teeth. 

“You keep saying that but I can hear your pulse pick up--” 

“Ouch. What is it, Cap? You only pick on the weak? You can’t fuck a drunk girl so now you gotta rough around a pregnant woman--” 

He lets you go and raises both hands. His blue eyes are dilated and his jaw is square and sharp. “Enough. Alright. Enough. I went out and got what you want. Sit down and eat.” 

You stare at him and rub your scalp. He sighs and drops his arms. 

“Don’t act like you had it better before,” he shakes his head and picks up the shopping bag. “Or that you can do better than this.” 

His words slice through you. It must be the hormones but self-awareness can’t take away that ache. He isn’t wrong, even if this isn’t what you want. You stagger back and sit. 

Look at you. You’re some pathetic animal eating pickles and cookies. You’re disgusting. You’re... lost. 

[reigningqueenofwords]

That's How You Know

Pairing: Tony x Reader Word count: 4,003

Read on AO3

You leaned your head on Nat’s shoulder, the two of you watching some comedy in an effort to cheer you up. You’d broken up with your long time boyfriend just the day before. And it sucked. The two of you had been together most of your twenties. Now, at 28, you were nursing a broken heart, eating a pint of ice cream, and cuddling your super-spy best friend. 

“Miss, Mr. Stark is inquiring if you’d like take out from your favorite restaurant for dinner this evening.” Came JARVIS’s voice. 

Hearing that, you smiled softly. “Tell him yes, and thank you.” You agreed easily. 

Nat smirked at you. “You know he loves you, right?” She pointed out. “I mean, it’s really obvious.” She chuckled. “He just never actually said it because you were dating that asshat.” 

You shifted to look at her. “What the hell are you talking about?” You asked, confused. “A- Tony doesn’t love me, and B- he wasn’t an asshat until the last like...month.” You muttered in defence of your ex. 

“You are so blind. And he clearly thinks we are, too.” She was amused. “Look, I’d tell you to just go kiss the man, but I’ll be nice and let you get over your ex before pushing you together and going ‘now kiss’.” She smirked, making you stare at her. “You’ll see.” She said confidently. “Now, let’s finish this movie.” 

It had been six months since that conversation with Nat, and you’d pushed it from your mind. However, you were out with her, Wanda, and Pepper, which meant drinks. It made it difficult not to think about the handsome inventor. Just as you were thinking of him, your phone went off. 

Nat looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Awe, he’s worried about you!” She chuckled as you playfully shoved her away. “He is seriously texting you just to tell you that you’re on his mind, but he wanted a reason, so he pulled the ‘be safe’ card.” She downed another shot. “And, you’re right. That would be a warning for some pour perv to mess with any of us.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.” You put your phone away, going back to your drink. 

“So, who’s the mystery man?” Wanda grinned. “Do we know him? Oh! Is it that cute agent?” You raised an eyebrow at her. There were a few cute agents. “I think his name is Paul? Such an unsexy name for such a nice face.” She mumbled. “Spill the beans.” 

You were about to shut this entire conversation down when Nat spoke up. “It’s Tony.” She said easily. “He’s had it bad for her for years.” She went on, making you put your head on the table. “She doesn’t believe it, but she’s the only one who got a ‘be safe’ text.” Nat chuckled, licking her lips. “And I see someone I’d like to be bad with tonight. Excuse me, ladies!” She slipped out of her chair and towards whoever had caught her eye. 

Pepper rubbed over your shoulders. “Want me to get us some shots? Since Nat drank them all?” She chuckled. 

Sitting up, you sighed, nodding. “Sure, I need one. Or five.” You shrugged. You didn’t want to believe Tony loved you. You didn’t want to admit you loved him, either. So, you’d get a bit drunk, and then go back to forgetting about it the next day. 

Walking into your kitchen a couple weeks later, you were wearing an oversized sweater and leggings. It was a cold fall day, the skies were grey, and you planned on curling up with a book, and a cup of coffee. You had to do a double take. There, on your kitchen island, was a bouquet of sunflowers. That had not been there the night before. Walking to the table, you lifted the note that was placed in front of it. 

I know you hate days like this. Here’s some flowers to brighten your day. 

-Tony

You blushed, biting your lip. Once you set the note down, you went over to your coffee maker and decided you’d thank him by bringing him a cup. “JARVIS, is Tony in his labs?” You asked as you brewed your cup first. This way his would be hotter by the time you got to him. 

“Yes, Miss. Do you need his assistance?” He asked. 

“No, tell him I’ll be down shortly, though?” 

Tony looked up when you walked in. His face lit up as he took the mug you held out for him. “Thank you for the flowers.” You smiled, leaning against a table. “I was not expecting those.” You chuckled before sipping your drink. 

“Well, when I saw the sky, I knew you’d like them.” He shrugged a shoulder as if it was something just anyone would do. “And I remember you like sunflowers.” You’d told him once before when telling him a story about your life growing up. “And, you’re welcome.” He smiled. “Thank you for the coffee.” He held his mug up slightly for a moment. “I need it. Working on this damn bug.” He sighed. 

You giggled, shaking your head. “I’ll let you get back to that.” You told him. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” 

He nodded. “Enjoy your book.” He smirked when you looked at him. “You’re going to crack your sliding glass door, curl up under the blanket I got you last year for Christmas, and read.” He teased.

You were just kicking off your boots after working on your Christmas shopping when your phone went off. You were assuming it was Nat, asking you to come to girl’s night, or to watch a movie. It was Saturday night, after all. However, your eyebrows shot up at it being Tony. 

Letting out a sigh, you removed your coat and made your way back out of your door. Minutes later, you found yourself knocking on Nat’s. “Well, it wasn’t a break up, what’s that face for?” She raised an eyebrow, letting you in. 

“Tony.” You shrugged as she shut the door. “Apparently, he wants me to be his plus one at some event. He’s known for two months, and it’s next Friday. He asked me today. Well, like, less than half an hour ago.” 

“Yeah, we’re all going.” Nat shrugged. “Next Friday is his Christmas benefit for the kids.” She teased. “Did you honestly forget?” She laughed. 

You blushed. “I’m sorry, I was too busy being shocked that he was asking me on a date.” You admitted. “At least I already have my dress then.” You noted. “Well, I’m here, want to watch a movie before I head home and start wrapping presents?” You asked. 

She shrugged. “Sure, as long as you tell me what you got Tony.” She smirked. 

“I haven’t gotten his yet. What the hell do you get the man that has everything?! Or could build it, or buy it.” You half whined as the two of you moved to get comfortable. 

“Lingerie?” She asked. 

“I never pegged him for the type of guy to wear that…” You mused, thinking it over. He was over the top, so you could honestly see it now that you thought about it. 

Nat burst into laughter. “NO!” She was doubled over. “And it’s even funnier because you said ‘pegged’.” She wiped a tear from her cheek from laughing so hard. “No, I meant YOU wear it, and slap a bow on your ass. Pretty sure that would be what he wants.” She nudged you as your face turned a bright red. 

“….Oh.” You managed.

Tony’s hand was on your lower back, his other hand holding yours. The pair of you were dancing, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “So, Nat is the one who pointed out that I already knew about tonight.” You blushed, making him chuckle. “She thought it was amusing. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugged a shoulder. “I thought it was cute. I made you so flustered that you forgot.” He smirked. 

“Oh, really? And what if it’s because I had a long day of Christmas shopping for a super-spy, a super soldier, and an archer? Fully knowing my shopping wasn’t done yet.” You asked, an amused look on your face. 

He gasped playfully. “And not the child-like billionaire?” He asked. 

“Still trying to figure out what to get him.” You smiled. “It’ll come to me.” You promised. 

Holding you close, he nodded. “I’m sure it will. Well, I’m done all my Christmas shopping, and I am sure that you will love your present.” He told you. “Nat helped.” He laughed as your face fell, turning pale. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He grinned. 

“So mean.” You leaned your head on his chest. 

Minutes later, Steve came over. “May I cut it?” He asked. 

You looked at him. “Sure, but I’m not sure which one of you would lead.” You chuckled. 

“Funny, doll.” He smiled as he took your hand, causing Tony to pout. “Hey, Clint still wants a dance, so does Bucky, Thor, and Sam…” He teased the poor inventor, pulling you into his arms. “You look beautiful tonight.” He told you as Tony excused himself. “And he’s too easy to mess with.” 

“Thank you. And he really is.” You giggled. “It’ll be even more fun come New Year’s when he’s drinking.” You smirked. “Then he’s really easy to get to.” You thought back to the previous year when, once he was drunk, you’d managed to convince him that he’d let you borrow his favorite car. And then ‘lost’ it. It didn’t last long, but his face was priceless. 

Steve laughed, nodding. “Hopefully we get more pictures this year.” 

“I’m sure we will.” You figured that Nat would be taking some to ‘prove’ that Tony was in love with you.

Much to your dismay, a mission came up. 

On Christmas Eve. 

Part of you expected Tony to pout, if you were being honest. Him, or Clint. Both were like giant children. Sitting on the Quinjet, you were talking with Wanda. While Steve got serious, some of you just relaxed, and others made a point to have a good time. Who knew if there’d be a mission someone didn’t come home from? Why make your last memories of them anything but happy?

Bucky nudged you. “Hey, doll?” He asked, making you look over. “You do most of the decorating, right?” 

“Yeah, why?” You chuckled. “I have for years, but I ask you guys for help as needed. You know that.” You teased. 

“Have you ever thought about putting stuff up in the Quinjet?” He was curious. “In case something like this happens. Why not make it festive in here, too?” 

You thought about it for a minute. “I never thought about it. When I’m decorating for Christmas, the last thing on my mind is possibly deadly missions with my friends.” You shrugged. “I mean, I can try to remember next year?” You offered. 

“It’s okay, I was honestly just curious. You’re like the elf of the tower.” He smirked. “It’s cute.” He winked. Nat smirked at him, shaking her head. She knew he was only doing it because Tony was close by. “I haven’t seen any mistletoe. Did you skip it this year?” 

Bucky was all over the place it seemed, making you stare at him for a moment. “Uh, thanks?” You replied, unsure. “And you don’t remember when poor Steve had to kiss almost all of us? In the course of maybe two days? I thought I’d be nice and let him have a break from lip locking this year.” You chuckled as you saw Steve blush and hide his face. He had indeed kissed nearly everyone the year before. And he’d been sober for them all! 

Tony looked over. “Who’s didn’t he end up kissing?” He asked, having been one of those that he had. 

You put your hand up. “Me, and I think Bruce?” You told him. “I only kissed Nat, Bucky, and Clint.” You thought back. 

Nat stuck her tongue out at him, teasing him that she’d kissed you and he hadn’t. “Shame you didn’t put them up again, I would have found a way to get you underneath the mistletoe again.” She winked at you playfully when you looked at her. 

“Me, too.” Bucky admitted. 

“And me.” Clint chimed in, even though no one knew that he was paying attention. He had his eyes closed, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles, and his fingers laced together on his chest. “Especially with that body spray she only wears in the winter.” He added. 

You chuckled. “You mean the one that smells like cupcakes?” You asked. It was received for once the snow started to fall, and was put away once it was over. Cupcakes reminded you of baking with your dad as a kid, and you’d always make cupcakes. So, it was a nice reminder when the days got shorter, and colder. 

“You pay attention to her body spray?” Tony asked, surprised. 

Before Clint could answer, JARVIS let them know they’d be arriving in under two minutes. 

Your back was to a wall, your breathing coming out ragged. This was not as easy of a mission as you’d been hoping for. At the moment, you were actually hiding- not your proudest moment, either. Your leg had been shot, you had a split lip, you were sure you were sporting a shiner, and your shirt was sticking to you with blood. Some of it was yours, some of it wasn’t. You tried to push that thought from your mind as you closed your eyes. You nearly jumped when you heard Steve in your comm. “Y/N? You’re the only one not accounted for at the meetup.” His voice was firm, but the worry was there. 

Clenching your jaw, you replied. “Yeah, uh, about that.” You started. “Seems I got a bit…injured…in the process of taking some guys out.” You hissed as you pressed against your leg. 

It was Tony’s voice you heard next. “How bad is it? Can you get to us?” He asked quickly. 

You sagged. “No, I can’t.” You hated having to rely on them during missions. You wanted to be able to hold your own. “I got shot in the thigh for starters.” You leaned your head back against a wall. 

“For starters?!” Came a few voices, but you couldn’t pin point them all. 

“Can one of you just come get me before I pass out?” You asked, pain radiating from your wounds. “That would be great!” 

“On my way, doll.” Bucky spoke up. “Keep talking to me.” He told you, hoping to distract you from your pain. “Let me know where you are.” 

You sighed. “Alright.” You agreed before telling him where to find you.

The rest of the team waited in the quinjet while Bucky rushed to get to you. They had moved from the meet up point before he’d left them, so that he knew where to find them. Tony kept  his eyes on the entrance, jaw tight. “She’ll be fine.” Wanda told him. “It was her thigh. If anything, she’ll have to relax for a bit.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll ask her if she wants a movie marathon.” 

“She’s in pain, Wanda.” He reminded her. “Bad enough she was worrying about passing out. That doesn’t sound fine to me.” He sighed, not looking at her. “At all.” 

No one else bothered to try to calm him down, knowing it was useless. Until he saw you, he’d be worried. Then, it would shift to worry about you healing. People getting injured on missions was nothing new. It happened. They all knew that it bothered him so much more because it was you. 

Once he spotted Bucky,  you in his arms, he relaxed the tiniest bit. Your head was against Bucky’s shoulder, and your eyes were closed. “She passed out about halfway here.” He said softly, moving to lay you down. “Used my shirt as a tourniquet.” He explained, noting the raised eyebrow Nat was shooting his way. “I would have used hers, but…” He sighed, motioning to your blood stained shirt. 

“JARVIS, get us home.” Tony demanded, watching Bruce start to work on you. He cut your shirt up the middle, showing that your stomach wounds weren’t as bad as the shirt made it look. That was a minor comfort to him, though. The worst of it was a gash closest to the top of your pants. Letting out a sigh, he hoped they could get you more comfortable back at the tower. 

Groaning, you slowly opened your eyes to see Tony sitting there in a Y/F/C shirt. “When’d you get that?” You asked, licking  your dry lips. 

He looked up, grinning. “Uh, I had Nat go get it for me.” He chuckled. “Last night, while you were still out. I know it’s your favorite color.” He moved to sit on the side of your bed. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, taking your hand. 

“Like I got hit by a bus.” You told him honestly. “I didn’t think I was that bad.” You admitted. 

“I think that’s the drugs he gave you.” He shrugged. “The ‘good’ stuff.” He winked. “It’ll ease up, I’m sure.” He assured you. “Oh, and Wanda is currently finding nearly every Disney movie she can find.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “She thought it would be fun to have a movie marathon, and for some reason, she has her heart set on Disney.” He chuckled. 

You smiled. “She’s sweet.” You said softly. “Can I count on you to join us for a couple?” You asked shyly. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He promised you, kissing your forehead. “Now, I’ll let Bruce check you out while I go order dinner.” He got up. “My place, or here?” He teased. 

“Depends on what the doctor says.” You chuckled. “See you for dinner.”

Bruce had said it was okay for you to leave, but walking wasn’t happening. That left you to either use a wheelchair, or be carried. You couldn’t use crutches, as that would stretch your stomach, and that would pull on the stitches on your lower stomach. You’d gone with the wheelchair (even if Bucky and Steve volunteered to carry you). 

Rolling out of the elevator onto Tony’s floor, you smiled when you saw Pepper. “Hey.” You greeted her. 

She turned. “Y/N!” She smiled. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Tony told me what happened.” She said, coming over to hug you. “How’re you feeling?” She asked gently. 

“Well, I’m not in a ‘hospital’ bed anymore, so much better.” You joked. “Oh, since I don’t know when we’re doing the whole Christmas exchange thing, you can go get your present? I know you go see family, too.” You smiled. “My presents are in a box on my living room floor. Yours is in a medium sized box.” 

“I think I’d rather wait to do mine with everyone else.” She told you. “Even if it’s not until after the New Year. You guys are my family, too.” She reminded you. 

Tony came in, making you attempt to turn your wheelchair. “I hate this thing.” You muttered, getting stuck half way. 

“Pepper, can you roll her to the living room?” He asked, hands full of food. “I’ll get everything set up.” He told her, smiling. 

She nodded, getting behind you. “I know you’d rather roll yourself, but don’t argue.” She said before you could say you could do it yourself. When you sighed, she chuckled, and started pushing you. “Looks cozy in here.” She looked around. Tony had a blanket and pillows in front of the fire place. 

“Thanks, Pepper.” He said, putting everything down. “I can take it from here.” He moved over to hug her. “Merry Christmas.” He smiled. 

“Merry Christmas. Both of you.” She hugged him back before waving to you. 

“Merry Christmas.” You waved. Once she was gone, you smiled at Tony. “So, dinner by a fire?” You asked shyly. “I’ll need help getting down there.” You pointed out. 

He moved over to gently lift you out of your chair. “Of course.” He got you settled on a pillow before getting the food. “What would you like to drink?” He asked, taking things out of the bags. 

“Well, Bruce still has me on pain killers. So, soda?” You chuckled. 

“One Y/F soda coming up.” He said easily, going to get a drink for each of you. He hoped that you weren’t weirded out by him trying to show you how much he cared about you. 

Sitting on the couch, your leg over Wanda’s lap as you finished up The Little Mermaid. “What’s next?” You asked her, as she was the one who had set this up. 

“Enchanted.” She smiled. “It doesn’t get enough credit for being amazing.” She said quickly. “It’s one of my favorites.” She popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth.

You had to admit, you saw why this was a favorite. It had you giggling, and you loved Pip. “Okay, Pip is the best.” You grinned. 

“Right?” She agreed easily. “He was my text tone for awhile.” She chuckled. 

When ‘That’s How You Know’ came on, you started to listen and your jaw dropped. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.” You gasped. 

“What?” She paused it, looking at you confused. “What’s wrong?” 

You looked at her. “Tony’s done all that!” You stared at her. “Literally. I don’t even think he’d know, as I can’t see him watching this.” You explained. “A couple months ago? He left me a note and sunflowers because it was dreary out. He asked me to that Christmas ball thing and danced with me as much as he could. When I woke up after the mission? He was wearing my favorite color shirt. And then when I got out? He got us dinner…which we ate in front of the fire in his living room.” You grabbed your phone to text him. 

You stared at your phone. “Hey, can you help me back into my chair? I need to go see Tony.” You swallowed, looking at her. 

She smiled and gently moved your leg. “Yeah, I think I can do that.” She nodded.

Hearing the elevator to his labs, he looked over to see you rolling in. “So…” You said shyly. “You love me?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, I do.” He smiled. “Have for awhile.” He shrugged, setting his phone down before making his way to you. “Thought you were mad or something.” He blushed lightly, a look that you weren’t used to seeing on him. 

“No wonder my phone was going off so much.” You teased. “I’m not mad, Tony.” You promised him. “Not even close.” You grinned up at him. “I love you, too.” You admitted softly. “I just don’t think it really hit me until that damn song.” You giggled. 

He crouched so you didn’t have to look up at him anymore. “So, can I take you on a real date?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Once I can walk.” You chuckled. “A wheelchair in New York? I give major props to anyone who is can do that. I, however, don’t think I’d last more than five minutes before I want to hurt someone.” You admitted. 

“Deal.” 

“Ready for your first dance, Mrs. Stark?” Tony asked, your hand in his. 

You smiled over at him. “I’ve been ready.” You told him easily. “Let’s get out there and start this party.” You leaned over to peck his lips. 

He kissed you back. “There’s one part of that song I missed.” He pointed out, making you raised an eyebrow at him. “I never dedicated a song to you.” 

“You’re thinking of that now?” You teased. “After three years?” You asked. 

“Yup.” He laughed. “I’ll have to change that after I spin you around that dance floor.” 

[ivvyela]

imagine with me, if you will, a nwh potential fix-it involving none other than the multiverse saving duo deadpool and wolverine.

i know, i know - but please, let me cook.

wade and logan now jump across timelines to "fix" things aka travel the multiverse for funsies and deal with the consequences later and somehow end up in a universe where peter parker doesn't exist, but spider-man does. and wade, blessed with the power of "i know this for the plot", immediately knows that is bull. shit. and sure enough, they find one very depressed, very lonely, and very jaded peter parker.

after much annoyance, light stalking, and following spider-man while he's on patrol, they get peter to spill how he ended up in this situation. and after hearing everything, logan breaks the silence with a simple, yet effective: "shit, kid. that... shit."

"yeah, well... now you know, so you can, like, leave me alone."

"nope, not gonna happen." wade shakes his head and tactfully ignores logan's imploring look of what-the-fuck-are-you-getting-us-into-now "i take my job as marvel jesus very, very seriously, so frankly, this is my job to fix your sorry little life, buddy. and if flat-out telling them you exist didn't work, then - "

"oh, i actually... i never told them."

"...come again?"

"i tried to tell them, but i couldn't. so..."

"i'm sorry... your best friend and girlfriend were crying, telling you to come find them and remind them of you, and you chose not to?"

"they're happy and safe without me! i wasn't going to ruin - "

"oh my god. you sweet, self sacrificial, idiot spider-baby. okay! we can fix this! we're no tony stark, but consider us your pseudo daddies for the time being, kid. let's get you your life back."

which is how one very emotional and determined deadpool, followed by a stoic, nonchalant wolverine (who, in all honesty, probably should be completely against this, but once wade commits to something, he can't be talked out of it, and the sooner he gets his fix from this the sooner he can go home, so fuck it we ball), end up in a certain cafe, all up in a poor barista and her friend's face with a cut-out yearbook photo of some kid, yelling "LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT THIS BOY! HE'S SO LONELY! LIKE A SMALL, FORLORN, VICTORIAN CHILD! REMEMBER HIM, GODDAMMIT!"

(their efforts result in two confused and scared teens, and getting kicked out of said cafe.)

peter practically begs them to just leave him alone, that this was his choice, and he's fine with it, but both wade and logan know a lie when they hear one. they both know what being alone can do to a person, and peter is just a kid who got dealt the shittiest cards in life and at this point, it just feels wrong to leave him here without trying to do something. and maybe they both have a small soft spot for the teen, so what?

and peter knows both men can see through his broody, teenage angst front he's been putting up since the spell, and he's tried so hard to hate the two of them, get them to hate him so they would leave, but they're not budging, so really, there's no point in trying to push them away, right?

and so, he lets them in. he learns that while logan is stoic and intense and kinda terrifying, he's also someone who just wants to do the right thing for the people he cares about. he's also lost people, and he blames himself, but he's come out on the other side. he would tell peter about his daughter, laura, who wouldn't let him wallow in self pity because she is good, better than he has ever been. he never saw himself as a father, but she's still around, so he must be doing alright.

and at first hearing it would result in a pang in his chest, memories of thai food after walking into a smoke-filled kitchen, assurances that things will work out when everything feels hopeless, a tombstone that can never convey everything she was, but now... it's nice to hear that logan still had someone after losing everyone.

so, peter listens to logan's stories. in return, peter tells logan all about his mom.

and wade was brash and loud and conceded and really, really annoying, but he's... no, that's it. he's all of those things, but in a weird way, it's like all those bad qualities merge together to make him a good guy. and yeah, he can walk away at any point, he has absolutely no obligation to help peter, but he does it anyway.

("nonono, don't you dare make me some selfless hero type, kid. i know for a fact that every deadpool has a peter. i'm doing this for the me in your world."

"you're... huh?"

"bottom line, i'm a selfish bastard. i'm doing this for me, 'kay?")

peter didn't fight it. he's had experience with seemingly self-absorbed, deflecting type heroes.

wade doesn't replace him, not even close, but... still.

maybe peter will never get back what he lost. but, for the first time, peter sees a light at the end of the tunnel. that, maybe, he can stop being just spider-man, and he can start being peter parker again, too.

(and if there's a barista talking to her friend about how it's weird that two guys would show up holding a photo of an odd customer from weeks ago, demanding they remember him, and despite not knowing him she felt something, and her friend couldn't help but agree, well... that's neither here nor there.)

[cas-kingdom]

The Night Shift

A/N: First NCIS fic! Decided to keep my OC's name instead of reader as I'm pretty attached to her.

If you're alone on V Day, here's some Gibbs. <3

Title: The Night Shift

Summary: What's worse than a sick Gibbs? A sick mini Gibbs.

Words: 2568

It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was tired.

She wrinkled her nose as something tickled at it and sat up to reach for the packet of tissues sitting dutifully by the pillow.

It was two am, and Emmie Gibbs was sick and tired.

Tony, the shit-stirrer that he was, leaned precariously back in his swivel chair to stare at her. If it weren’t for the squeak of the chair itself, she still would have noticed his sudden attention by the feeling of his eyes boring into her for perhaps the tenth time since they’d set up camp in the NCIS building about five hours ago. He was relentless.

Emmie paused. Tissue wedged in her nose, sinuses burning, she looked up and stared at him. Tony rose an eyebrow. Emmie hardened her stare. Tony, because he was Tony, purposefully leaned further back so she could see the exact moment he dramatically cupped a hand to his stupid little mouth and—

“Giiibbs!”

Emmie’s jaw tensed. Tony grinned in superfluous victory.

Another squeak, a more familiar one this time, and Gibbs’s swivel chair glided along the carpeted floor around the divider between the cubicles until he could see Emmie. She was still sitting up, looking quite the sight with a tissue halfway up her right nostril and her hair sticking at all angles. On any other day she would have responded to Tony’s pure gall by glaring him straight into the ground. But today was not that day. Today was a bad day. Today, her week-long, just-about-bearable cold had decided to manifest into sinusitis, and she’d woken with a face that felt as though tiny little men were mining for gold in her skull. Ducky had liked that metaphor.

Partly because she was absolutely awful at caring for herself when she was ill, and partly—mostly—because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on work if she was left to fend for herself at home, Gibbs had dragged Emmie into the office with him. She’d made her rounds all day—curled up on Abby’s little couch at first, then bundled off to an empty room when Abby found working in silence too impossible. At lunchtime, a meeting had been scheduled in the room, and she’d been forced to accompany Gibbs and Tony in the car to a naval base connected to the case they were working on, sniffling and groaning in the back seat like a Victorian child on her death bed.

And here she was now, at two a bloody m, lying on an ungodly amount of blankets, wrapped in Gibbs’s jacket and Tony’s hoodie, on the floor, feeling like her body was readying to explode. Life couldn’t get worse.

Unless you were acquainted with Tony DiNozzo. In which case, life could, and most certainly would, get worse.

Gibbs dipped his head and rose an eyebrow at Emmie. Emmie couldn’t do much in her defence but sniff. Hard. A slight protest only she had the guts to attempt. It was when he pointed a finger at her and motioned with it for her to lie down again that Emmie tossed her arms up.

“Do you know—” Another sniff—“Do you even know how hard it is to lie down and feel your sinuses drain into your throat?” Her voice was so nasally she couldn’t sound stern, even if she put every ounce of effort into it.

Tony, naturally, did not try hard to cover his amusement at that. He snorted and crossed his arms over his chest, spinning from side to side absently in his chair with the tip of his tongue held between his smirking lips when Emmie turned narrowed eyes on him.

“I was getting a tissue, FYI,” she said to him and only him. “So, you can stop being a kiss ass, Anthony.”

“Emmie.” Gibbs disappeared behind the divider again. “Back to sleep.”

Tony, meanwhile, gaped. “Kiss ass who?”

Emmie ignored him and shuffled back down again. She shut her eyes and swallowed. Already the disgusting stuff had decided the place it wanted to be right now was her stomach, and was meandering slowly down her throat towards it.

“You were being a bit of a kiss ass,” she heard Gibbs agree.

“Oh, come on. You said you wanted her to sleep!”

“Yeah, and I do.”

“But you’re gonna call me a kiss ass when I tell you she’s not sleeping? Kiss my ass.”

“What was that?”

“Sorry, Boss.”

In all honesty, there was nothing more that Emmie wanted least right now than to sleep. True, she was exhausted, but the part of her brain not currently still enshrouded in said exhaustion wanted to be up and active again, helping Gibbs with the case like her internship allowed.

And yet, the man still believed she needed her head on a pillow.

The team had been working on a case all day, one she didn’t know the specifics of. It wasn’t exactly often that they stayed in the office well into the night to continue their current case, but it appeared Gibbs had a weird feeling about this one. From the snippets of conversation that she’d picked up and actually retained in her decrepit brain, a potential witness was lying unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, and Gibbs wanted to speak to him the moment he woke up, which, according to the doctors, could be at any time. That apparently required the entire team to stay behind which, considering the fact Emmie was currently holed up on the floor of Ziva’s empty cubicle, not everyone had complied with.

The moment Tony got out of his chair to help Gibbs with something and disappeared from her line of sight, Emmie eased herself into a sitting position once more. She reached for the tissues again, rubbing at her leaking nose with the sleeve of Gibbs’s jacket and not possessing the brain power to regret that decision. She blew into a tissue, paused to catch her breath, then—

“Gibbs.”

Emmie deflated completely. Wow. The world truly hated her today.

She looked up to see McGee walking in with a bag of takeout. He barely glanced at her as he passed, choosing to instead spend that energy alerting Gibbs to the fact she was, again, not lying down.

Before either Tony or Gibbs could come into view once more, Emmie sighed, stuck two bits of tissue in both nostrils, and scooted backwards to sit against the wall.

“Can’t breathe lying down,” she said before anyone could say a single word. “And I’m tired of being tired. I don’t want to sleep anymore. Leave me alone. Don’t talk to me. Shush.”

Tony’s head appeared around the corner, and he snorted again. Then the squeak of Gibbs’s chair as he got up. A rustling. A moment later he appeared with a takeout box in his hand, walking towards her. He lifted it so she could see, and she groaned, shaking her head. A corner of Gibbs’s mouth lifted but he wasn’t about to back down on this fight. He never did.

He knelt in front of her, close enough to see the pallidness of her face and the slight sickly tremble of her small frame. Emmie visibly relaxed when he reached out a hand to press against her forehead, the coolness of his skin momentarily dowsing the heat of hers.

Gibbs checked the watch at his wrist. “Another couple hours and you can dose up again.”

“Thanks.”

“Yep. ‘Till then…” He went to withdraw his hand, but Emmie’s own hand shot up and pinned his to her forehead.

“No,” she said simply.

“No to my hand leaving, or food?”

“No.”

“You gotta eat. You know the drill. Eat or sleep.” She grumbled something and Gibbs reached with his free hand to lift the lid on the box. The smell of warm chicken soup filled the space between them, and Emmie wrinkled her nose. “Come on, kiddo. It’s only soup.”

“I feel too sick to eat.”

“Sleep it is, then.”

“Dad—”

“Hey. The cure for alll Emmie-related illness is sleep. Always has been, always will be.” It was true. Gibbs knew his daughter better than she knew herself, after all. Everyone was different, but Emmie’s medicine was sleep until she could look him in the eye and confidently tell him she felt a bit better. If years of being a single parent had taught him anything, it was that.

With a bit of reluctance, he pulled his hand from her head and leant forward on his toes. “You don’t have to lie down to sleep,” he told her. “Here—” Emmie wasn’t quite sure what he was doing with the pillows and blankets behind her, but when he sat back and she turned as much as her aching neck would allow, there was a nice little DIY upright-bed against the wall. Gibbs, seemingly proud of his work, was met with a look of absolute discontent on his daughter’s face.

He puffed his cheeks out and glanced at the soup. “Aeroplane?”

“Seriously?” Emmie deadpanned.

He reached for the spoon, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Worked when you were a kid.”

“There’re a few keywords in that sentence, Dad. Are you trying to give Tony more fuel to embarrass me?”

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder. Tony had returned to his desk, leaning dangerously back in his chair to gain the best vantage point. The man had absolutely zero shame.

Gibbs jerked his head. “Check with the hospital about Lupin, would you, DiNozzo?”

Tony visibly deflated. Emmie sent him a smug look and he stuck his tongue out. Reluctantly, he wheeled back to his desk and picked up the phone. “Do this, DiNozzo, do that, DiNozzo,” he grumbled to himself. “Oh, while you’re at it, why don’t you polish my boots and write a thesis on my intellectual prowess, DiNozzo? Sure, I’ll get right on it, Boss!” He dialled the number and put the phone to his ear. “Should I get your laundry and your coffee too, Boss? Should I do—hi, there! Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS, calling for an update on a patient? Ryan Lupin. Yeah, I’ll hold. Thanks.”

“Dad.” Such an exasperated voice could only belong to the resident invalid, and after only a second’s hesitation, Tony—slowly—wheeled himself back, as far as the cord to the phone still held against his ear would allow. Emmie and Gibbs were still on the floor, the former looking most disgruntled at the spoon in the latter’s hand.

“I’m being serious,” she said then.

“So am I,” Gibbs said, “very serious. I’m being very serious right now. Soup?”

Emmie rolled her eyes, but a smile was pulling at her lips all the same. She shook her head. “Go back to your desk, old man.”

Tony’s brows shot up and he grinned. “Oohoohoo!” He was close to rubbing his hands together in sheer glee. “You gonna let her get away with that, Boss?”

“Lupin, DiNozzo.”

“I’m on hold!” The fact that Gibbs made no sign that he was going to pick his daughter up on her insult, when Tony knew that if he’d been the one to call his boss elderly he’d be getting a bit more than a slap to the back of the head, hit a sore spot. “Wait,” he said, looking hilariously appalled, “you’re actually gonna let her get away with it?”

Gibbs, defeated in this part only, dropped the spoon back in the box and put it on the desk. “I’ve been called worse,” he called back, “believe me.”

“Grandpa,” Emmie said.

“Thank you, Em, that’s very helpful.”

“Ninnyhammer, pillock, douche canoe, old man—”

“You already said that one.” Gibbs chuckled. “Douche canoe?”

Emmie shrugged. “Dunderhead.”

“Alright.”

“Ugly…nut.”

“Jemima.”

McGee, who’d since been silently working and eating at his desk, paused. Mouth open, forkful of noodles on its way, he turned confused eyes to the ground.

“Her name’s Jemima?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “How long you been here McGee?”

As soon as Emmie looked the slightest bit like she was about to resume her name-calling, Gibbs put his palm over her mouth. He rose a brow in warning. She blinked. Blinked again. Then—

“Aw, come on!” Gibbs’s face contorted into one of absolute disgust as a rush of air and wet stuff flew at his hand. He withdrew it immediately, holding it away from him, while Emmie sniffed and nonchalantly used the jacket sleeve again.

“You little crapbag.” It was the best he could come up with.

“What? You think I plan my sneezes?”

Tony, up until now quite enjoying the performance, rolled quickly back to the desk with the phone at his ear. “Hi, yeah, I’m still here.”

Gibbs stood and walked briskly to his desk so he could grab the stack of napkins the takeout had come with. “I don’t doubt anything when it comes to you.”

“Thank you.” Emmie rubbed at her red eyes with her hand and slumped against the back of the wall. Gibbs, coating his hands with sanitizer, watched with a knowing eye. He shook his hands and walked back around to Ziva’s cubicle, perching on the desk to look down at her.

“You’re sick,” he said.

“I know. And?”

“And, sick people eat soup, and they sleep. Okay? They don’t stay up at all hours of the night—nooo, no, no. I’m talking now, kiddo. I know you’ve been sleeping all day, I know you wanna get up and back to work, but that’s not happening until your fever’s gone. No point in fighting that, and you know full well. Clear?”

Any other day. Any. Other. Day. The protests were practically clawing at her throat. But a sudden wave of nausea rushed over her and she backed down immediately. Still, the thought of lying down again was awful, and the tired eyes she turned on her dad somehow translated that.

Gibbs sighed. “What’s it gonna take, huh?” Emmie didn’t need to think about her answer to that. She wasn’t even sure her expression had changed at all when Gibbs shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “No,” he said, “come on, now. I gotta work.”

This time, she did change her expression, putting it on in the way she knew worked best. Gibbs, naturally, relented.

“Fine,” he said, motioning with his hands for her to move over. She did, though admittedly it was a bit of a pitiful move with her aching body. He breathed a short laugh but came to sit in the miniscule space she’d made beside her anyway.

“Thanks, douche canoe,” Emmie whispered.

Tony put the phone down. “Still knocked out, Boss,” he said, pushing his chair backwards. When he saw Gibbs on the floor, arm wrapped around his daughter, who had her head on his shoulder, he crossed his arms over his chest and positively pouted.

“Hey, why do you get to sleep?”

Gibbs chuckled and shut his eyes. “When you’ve got a sick kid, I’ll let you sleep on the office floor with her. Wake me before Lupin does, would you?”

“How am I—Boss? Boss?” Tony threw his arms up in the air and shook his head, grabbing a notebook from his desk to doodle in. “Kiss my ass.”

“Heard that.”

“I wanted you to.”

Well, one thing was for certain. Gibbs may have won this fight, but so had Emmie.

NCIS Masterpost

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "insomnia" ⎯୧ (lcy)

+*:🍓:*﹤smut w a little plot, sub!anton, roommates/friends to lovers, unprotexted sex, edging, wet dreams, palming, blowjobs, light nipples touching, petnames: baby boy, anton calls reader noona, switching povs, fem reader, clit rubbing / wc: 5k / masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *

anton can't sleep. 

he tosses and turns just to wake up two hours later, hot, sweaty, and heaving. he writes it off as having nightmares, but that doesn’t explain the hard-ons he always has. he considers getting one off to help him relax, and that works for the first two nights. then, in the days that follow, it's like no matter how long he goes at it, getting himself all whiny and desperate, he can't cum. that realization only makes it harder to stay asleep, lucky if he dozes off for forty minutes.

it's so aggravating. during lecture, he can barely keep his eyes open, but when his head hits the pillow, it's like he can't shut his mind up. 

tonight, he gives up around 1 am after going in and out of sleep for an entire hour. he's restless but exhausted, and his mood is shot when you walk in the apartment. you had a long shift, so you can’t wait to snuggle in bed and watch a couple of comfort movies. you stop by the kitchen on your way to your room, unable to ignore your roommate's quiet grumbles. 

“anton?” you call out, but his back is turned toward you, and he's still mumbling to himself, fiddling with a container.

“sweetheart, is everything alright?” you ask, placing an arm on his shoulder and gently turning him toward you. 

“m fine, can't get this stupid box open.” he mumbles grumpily. in his hands, a box of hot cocoa packets is bent out of shape. you look at him in question (how did he bend the box like that? they aren't hard to open), but your attention is instead drawn to his features.

to put it short, he looks terrible. his eyes are puffy and red like he's been crying, his hair is tangled like he hasn't brushed it in days, and his oversized shirt is hanging off his shoulder, wrinkled and stretched out like he’s been pulling at it.

“do you need help?” you reach for the box, but he moves out of your way, tucking the box to himself protectively as he continues struggling with it.

anton knows he looks stupid, struggling to open this goddamn box, but ever since his problem of not getting off started, he hasn't been able to look you in the eyes. every time you guys make eye contact, he feels ashamed.

what’s frustrating is that he doesn’t know why. you're beautiful, and he can't lie and say he's not attracted to you, but he's never thought about you in a sexual way, because he’s put in great effort to not do so.

so why is it hard to be around you all of a sudden? he can’t help but feel sad about the circumstances, as he was enjoying the friendship you two had been building for the past three months.

“i got it.” he mutters again, tone sharp and stern. you watch him for a couple seconds and conclude that he doesn't in fact have it.

“are you sure, toni? i can-”

“i said i've got it.” he snaps, voices suddenly raised and face scrunched up in annoyance. you slightly flinch at his outburst, a wave of your own irritation washing over you. 

“excuse me?” you ask, offended by his tone. his face falls and he turns away from you again. seconds later, his shoulders begin to shake with his sobs. 

he wishes you would leave him alone, because having your eyes on him makes him feel things he can’t explain. he just wants to have some hot cocoa, get off, then go the fuck to sleep. 

“oh, toni.” you coo, mood softening as you begin rubbing his back. “what's the matter?”

you and anton aren’t extremely close, and not by lack of trying. you’re so attracted to him, but love being his friend and don’t want to mess it up by asking him out. despite that, you've never seen him in this state before. his usually cheerful, even charismatic personality is completely gone, turned into something snappy and miserable. 

“i'm so tired.” he says, his voice shaky and so quiet you almost don’t hear him. the palms of his hands come to rub his eyes aggressively. “can't sleep, no matter what i do.”

you wonder how long he had to be in this state to be acting like this, feeling a bit guilty that you hadn't noticed the signs earlier. you think for a second about how to help. 

“i was going to go watch some movies in bed.” you offer after a few moments of silence. “do you want to join me? it might be nice to have some company for a little bit.” 

he lowers his hands from his eyes and thinks about your offer. you guys have huddled in bed for movies before, so it isn’t a wild suggestion, and your bed is always so warm, multiple blankets and plushies adding extra cushion. he turns around, ignoring the heavy feeling he gets from looking at you.

“here, i'll even make this for you.” you gently remove the box from his hands, ripping its cardboard flap and opening it with ease. he looks at you in surprise for a second, then nods. 

“okay, why don't you go get settled and i'll be there in a minute?” 

he pads softly to your room, shoulders slumped and feet dragging.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

anton is buried underneath your duvet and blankets, only his eyes up to his forehead visible when you walk into your bedroom. 

“comfy, are we?” you ask with a light chuckle, reaching out to hand him his cocoa. he sits up in bed and takes the mug. after changing into pajamas in the bathroom, you settle into your own space and pull up a selection of movies on your phone. 

“how's the cat returns?” you ask, watching as he downs the drink and snuggles back into the sheets. 

“fine.” he mumbles, eyes droopy. you feel bad for him again, hoping he'll be able to get some sleep tonight.

you get through that and a third of coraline when you hear anton huff loudly. you glance down to see that he's snuggled up by your chest, eyes shut and breath even. he’s never slept in your bed before, but you don’t want to wake him up from some much needed rest. you take a moment to appreciate his beauty. in the glow from your bedside lamp, you can see his rosy cheeks and furrowed eyebrows, and your heart swells with fondness. maybe this will make you guys even closer. you smile in triumph and continue the movie. 

ten minutes later, you hear it. you ignore it the first time, but it happens again soon after. anton lets out a faint whimper. for a second, you think he's talking to you, but he doesn't respond when you call out his name. instead, he full-on moans. 

“n-noona.” he mumbles. the blankets have fallen from his chest and pooled around his pelvis, and you see his hips twitch slightly. “please…”

was he…having a wet dream?

surely not, you tell yourself. the circumstances of this happening are quite unlikely. 

“y/n…need you.” he whines quietly, and your eyes jump to the size of saucers. 

he was having a wet dream about you?!

your cheeks heat up, feeling flattered but scandalized. he doesn't say anything else, but his breath picks up rapidly, becoming more choked off as it progresses. seconds later, he jerks awake, gasping and panting, his fingers tangled into the blankets. you watch as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to slow down his breath. then, he opens them again and looks up from your chest. 

“oh, noona, did i wake you? i'm sorry.” he asks, voice thick and words slurred.

you ignore the way hearing him call you that now makes you hot all over, arousal manifesting in your panties. he sits up with messy hair and puffy cheeks. is he just going to pretend like he wasn't dreaming about you? 

“what?” you scoff, a smile tugging at your lips. you can't help but laugh at how weird this situation was.

“sorry for disturbing you, i'll head back to my room now.” you watch in disbelief as he sluggishly stands up from the bed and not-so subtly covers his boner with his large shirt.

the truth is, anton can't wait to get out of your vicinity. your scent is stuck to his clothes, and he doesn't know why he likes it so much. that shameful feeling is back, and he wants it off his skin.

“wait, anton.” you call out, dropping your phone on the sheets and just barely catching his wrist.

shit. he turns back to you, eyes falling to your mouth, and he could've sworn you were almost…smirking?

“did you get to sleep?” you ask, but your eyes lack genuine curiosity.

“oh, yeah, i guess i did.” he answers awkwardly, looking everywhere but your eyes. he’s so cute, and his nervousness makes you feel empowered.

“what did you dream about?” 

“what?” he looks at you finally with a look of confusion.

“dreams? did you have any?” you slowly lead him to sit back down. he follows easily, pulled back onto your soft, comfortable blankets.

“uhm, no, not that i remember.” 

“you can't remember what you dreamt about?” you ask, incredulous. he looks away for a second, thinking, then turns back to you and shakes his head. 

“i think i've been having nightmares a lot recently. i keep waking up on the verge of a panic attack.” he explains. you hum in contemplation. you can’t help but wonder if any more of these “nightmares” have actually been wet dreams, and if so, how many of them have been about you. 

slowly, your hand trailed along his thigh, and you delight in the sound of his breath hitching. his body is tense, eyes looking at you in question. “but that's alright, i guess i don't w-want to if they were that scary.” he stutters as your hand trails higher and higher. you’re giving him a sultry look, and he wonders if this is going where he thinks it’s going, and is surprised to realize maybe he wants it to go there, despite it being so sudden.

“that's interesting, because i think i know what you dreamt about, and why you can't get to sleep.” you say, circling your finger around a spot right on his hip. they twitch under your touch, and you almost coo again watching him try to restrain himself. 

you’re not sure where you suddenly got the nerve to act like this, but you say to hell with it. you’ve been harboring a crush on him ever since you became his roommate, and he obviously shares the same desire, if his subconscious is anything to go off of. his shy demeanor only makes you more confident. you move on from his hip and slide a hand up his loose shirt.

anton’s almost relieved by your statement—he wants almost nothing more than to have a full night's rest—but he finds it hard to focus on your words as your nails lightly scrape his skin. his eyelids flutter prettily.

“when was the last time you came?” you ask abruptly, causing anton’s eyes to snap open.

“i’m sorry?”

“you likely can't go to sleep because you're so tense. when you do, you can't stay asleep because you keep having wet dreams about me that eventually wake you back up.” you’re not sure if the last part is true, but that’s your working theory. you watch as he struggles to comprehend your statement as you graze a couple of fingers over his nipple, voice catching in a gasp. 

“what are you talking about? i'm not even having inappropriate thoughts about you.” he defends, because he tries so hard to not have inappropriate thoughts about you. he doesn’t want to be a pervert and take advantage of the friendship you guys have, so he pushes away any sexual thoughts that creep up in his mind. sometimes it’s so hard, but he values your company so much, and doesn’t want to upset you.

“oh, yeah? so when you moaned, ‘y/n noona, i need you’ in your sleep, you weren't having inappropriate thoughts about me?” you ask, over-exaggerating the way he moaned. his eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of you tugging on his nipple, then you trail your hand back down to lightly trace his bulge. his hips lift towards your hand, and you pull it away. 

even in his aroused, half-asleep mind, your words make sense. why he feels shame looking at you, why he’s always rock solid when he wakes up. it’s not a far fetch to think he’s been having sexual dreams, nor is it to wonder if those dreams are about you, since you’re the only person he’s been attracted to lately. 

you wrap your hand around his member through his pants, snatching him out of his thoughts. 

“f-fuck.” he gasps quietly, surprised at your actions. “what are you doing?”

“did you think you could get off on the thought of me and i wouldn't take up the opportunity to finally fuck you?” 

questions swim around in his head. have you been wanting to have sex with him? you’ve been thinking about him inappropriately this whole time? the mere idea of you finding him attractive gets him even more hot and bothered, but he has no time to dwell on these thoughts once you start palming him roughly through his sweatpants.

“oh, g-god.” he whimpers out after a few minutes, hips finally bucking into your touch. “please, ‘m close.” his breath quickens again, uneven and harsh like it was in his sleep. his cheeks are dusted with baby pink, embarrassed about how close he’s gotten so quick, but he can’t help it. you’re so beautiful and you’re touching him and he’s realizing maybe his feelings are bigger than he previously thought. 

“you're gonna cum from humping my hand?” you ask, unimpressed. “we haven’t even started yet.”

your words make him feel like he’s being boiled alive. part of him can’t believe this is happening, but he’s so desperate to please you. anton gasps, pushing his hips back onto the blankets to get away from the stimulation.

“please, stop. wanna last.” he begs. he’s so cute, all weak and compliant, and you want to tease him more, see how long he holds out, but you can tell how much he wants to last, so you relent. he mumbles weak “thank you”s as he comes from the edge, and once his breathing returns to normal, you straddle him. he opens his eyes and looks at you in question, audibly gulping when he sees your dark, hungry gaze. he starts a sentence, but you cut him off as you grind your cunt against his member. 

“god, y/n.” he groans, throwing his head back into the pillows. 

“sorry, you were saying?” you ask, giggling meanly. you keep the movement up, building a rhythm while watching him struggle to string words together.

“i can’t– ahh– can’t believe t-this is happening.” he manages, interrupted by a particularly rough grind. for a second, his head catches on the opening of your cunt, and even through two layers of clothing, the feeling has him reeling.

“hm.” you sigh into the feeling and accept the fact that you were gonna have to throw these underwear away. “why’s that?”

“you’re so pretty a-and nice and– fuck, fuck, need you, please.” he whimpers out, echoing the words he spoke while asleep. you take in the sight of him, and he just looks so beautiful, brown hair fanning out beneath him. his lips are red from him biting them, and you can’t resist the temptation to lean down and kiss him. he tastes a little like the cocoa he had earlier.

it starts out slow, anton taking a couple of seconds to comprehend the situation, overcome his shock, and actually kiss you back. then it becomes more of him panting against your mouth, hips jerking erratically under your weight.

you still don’t want him to finish just yet, so you lift off of him and ignore the displeased whine he lets out. you pull his sweatpants off slowly while lightly scratching the skin of his thighs, reveling in the sharp gasp he takes. he’s so responsive, so fun to play with.

“oh,” you whisper, shocked to realize he’s not wearing underwear. “so what’s this? were you expecting to come in here and get your dick wet?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing his cock. it’s about average, but thick, and just thinking about having that in you has your pussy throbbing. you’re just teasing, but your words break anton into a cold sweat. 

“n-no! no– these are m-my pajamas.” he explains desperately, words clipping off into a whine as you lift his hard cock with two fingers then let it flop back down. you can’t help but be mesmerized by it. it was a deep shade of pink, almost red, and a white bead of precum was forming at the tip. you subconsciously lick your lips at the sight. you professionally move on from the fact that anton doesn’t sleep with underwear on in favor of running your tongue across the slit of anton’s dick.

he let out a choked sound and his hips jerk violently, but you’re able to back up before his penis collides with your nose. 

“toni, if you want me to touch you here, you have to be still.” you warn, one hand coming to rest on his hip.

“sorry, sorry, i can do that. i can-” his rambling is cut off by you taking his entire head into your mouth. “shit, shit, i– ‘m.” his hands come to tangle into your hair, but you pull off of his dick and place his arms back by his side. you don’t say anything, but you’re sure he gets the command.

“gonna cum already, baby boy?” you ask teasingly, rubbing his wrists gently. his breath hitches at the pet name, and you make a mental note to revisit that later.

“no,” he mumbles defensively. your eyebrow lifts in suspicion, but you take his word for it.

“if you get close, let me know, okay?” you hold eye contact while saying it, and he responds with a nod. “no, baby. answer with your words. can you do that for me?”

“i’ll let you know, promise.” he says, nodding quickly, so desperate to get your mouth back on his dick. you’re not sure how much you believe him, but you oblige, slowly taking his member into your mouth inch by inch. since he’s on the shorter side, it doesn’t take long for you to bottom out, his tip barely even reaching the back of your throat, but he’s hot and heavy on your tongue.

you wait and adjust for a second then begin a pace. under you, anton doesn’t say anything, the only communication being his gasps and grunts. you can tell he’s close by the way his hips stutter, desperate to buck up into the wet heat, but still, he doesn’t say anything. you pull off his dick to instead suck at the head, tongue sliding across and dipping into the slit. almost immediately, anton verbally explodes.

“stop! stop, please– too much, ahh–” he rambles, stuttering around portions of a sentence. he’s so embarrassed, but it’s not his fault you’re playing his body like a fiddle. 

you love the sound of him begging, so you keep up the ministrations a bit longer until his whines are so loud that he’s practically screaming, squirming on your blankets. you pull off again and rub up and down his thighs slowly. he gasps and pants as he comes down, so tense, and his cock is even more red, twitching as a steady stream of precum leaks out of the tip. it’s so vulgar that it almost drives you insane, and you’re starting to think you’re gonna lose it if you don’t sit on his cock in the next few minutes, but you push through it.

“aw, that looks like it hurts. want me to help you, or should i just leave you like this?” you ask, rubbing lightly at the head. in anton’s sleep-deprived, sexually frustrated mind, he can’t see how much you want him, how you’re just as desperate as he is, and thinks you’re serious.

“no, please, please, don’t leave me, it hurts so bad.” his hips jump lightly, drawing your attention to his member in an effort to prove his point. “i can’t–can’t get off alone, need you.” he can’t even fathom the thought of you leaving him like this, tender and submissive and so, so hard. 

you can’t help but coo at that. you slip your pajamas and underwear, as well as his shirt, off, then straddle him again. you grind your cunt against his member again, this time without the barrier of clothing. before he can beg, you crash your lips into his, swallowing any small sounds that try to escape. 

you kiss him until your lips hurt, making up for all the time you spent silently pining after him, not knowing he wanted you just as bad. when you pull away, he’s struggling to catch his breath and looking at you like you hung the stars. 

“you’re s-so stunning, i c-can’t believe you l-like me.” he mumbles through stuttered breaths. his hands lay awkwardly by his sides, and you lift them up to rest on your hips. his thumbs rub circles into them shyly, which causes your heart to swell up.

“how could i not like you, sweet boy? you’re so handsome and smart, so caring.” you run your hand through his tangled hair, gently undoing a couple of knots as you remember the traits and quirks that made you like him from the beginning. he practically melts into your touch and praise, but you’re not done with him just yet. you raise your hips and lean into his ear.

“you’ve been such a good boy, do you want me to fuck you now?” you barely get the question out before he’s nodding again, all eager at the idea of finally feeling your walls against his cock. 

anton watches with slow, bated breath as you line your opening up with his length, but then you actually take it in, bottoming out with no hesitation, and his eyes roll into his head. he screams, but the sound is muffled due to his teeth trapping his bottom lip. you sigh in pleasure while letting yourself adjust to the feeling, then study his features as you clench around his dick.

his eyebrows furrow, and he lets out another high-pitched keen, and you’re mesmerized by his beauty. anton’s grip on your hips tightens as you lift up and slide back down, but you feel a bit annoyed that his eyes remain closed. 

“look at me, toni.” you request, hands resting on his chest to support your weight. his eyes barely open, fluttering like it’s a struggle, and you can't help but think again that he’s just so cute. you want to destroy him.

“good job.” you praise and graze his nipples with your fingers. his hips jerk at the sensation, pushing himself deeper into you, and you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily as a wave of pleasure washes over you. you breathe through it in an attempt to hold on to some sanity. on the next inhale, you pick up the pace, sliding his length in and out of you rapidly. 

“oh, oh god- fuck, th-that’s so good, you’re so good.” anton rambles, his voice strained and high-pitched in a way you’ve never heard before. you’re instantly obsessed with the sound and make a tsk-ing noise when he bites his bottom lip. you lift your hand off of his chest and squish his cheeks. his bottom lip juts out in a forced pout.

“none of that, baby boy. i wanna hear you.”

“-t’s embarrassing.” he mumbles weakly, which tapers off into another moan as you sink down fully and roll your hips. you throw your head back, feeling his thick size touch you in places you’ve never reached. you pick up a rhythm of sliding him in and out of you a couple of times then bottoming out and rolling your hips.

“damn, anton. you f-feel amazing.” you moan, stuttering when his hips buck into your own. you look back at him and his eyes are still open, and he’s giving you that look again, the one that makes you want to shy away under all of that adoration. before you can, he throws his head back, baring his pretty, flushed neck as another high-pitched noise rips its way out of his throat. 

“f-fuck, -m so-sorry, can’t look– gonna cum, i’m–” 

you still on his lap and ignore the frustrated noise he lets out. next to his ear, you whisper, “not yet, toni. don’t you want to make me feel good too?”

he nods dumbly, unaware of how good he’s already making you feel. his eyes are empty and glossed over as you guide his hand to your clit. he rubs it experimentally, and your pleased sigh has him speeding up a bit, pressing a little harder to hear more of those sounds from you. 

his entire body is tense and burning hot, so close to the release he’s been chasing for a week, and watching your beautiful body react to his touch only makes it worse. he wants to get you there first, but when you roll your hips down again, he doesn’t think he can do it.

“p-please don’t move, please, please.” he begs, words slurring and eyes shining with desperation. he’s so deeply submitted to you that it’s almost unbearable, and you have the sudden need to please him, make him cum so hard he forgets his name, then kiss him to sleep. you support your weight with your shaky arms and lift your hips up.

“fuck me, baby. don’t you wanna cum?” you ask, putting on your sweetest voice for him. 

“fuck yeah, yes, need it.” anton grunts out. he wraps your arms around his neck and grips your hips tightly before roughly thrusting into your cunt. 

“oh, fuck, toni–” you gasp out with your face burried in his neck. his desperation shows through his lack of rhythm, his strokes uneven and harsh. he’s hitting your sweet spot so aggressively it feels like you might lose your mind, then his hand comes to rub your clit again, the grip on your waist strong enough to hold you up with one hand. 

“oh, god. cum, please cum, i-i can’t hold it.” he begs, words interlaced with keens and gasps. despite your previous permission, he’s still so desperate to please you, even with wet cheeks and eyebrows furrowed in agony. the sight, the feeling of him pounding into your sweet spot, and the harsh, uneven rubbing on your clit sends you into overdrive. you cum so hard your hearing almost goes out, but you can faintly make out his muffled screams, and you feel him cream in you, hot fluids spilling back over his cock as he works himself through it. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

eventually, the air stills, and for the first time in hours, anton’s tense body fully relaxes, his bones melding into your pillows. you lift off of him to let him fully catch his breath, and slip into the bathroom. his eyes are closed when you return, and flutter open when he feels something warm and wet touch his skin. 

you’re clean now, having wiped yourself down in the bathroom, and he’s silent as you clean him up as well. his blinks are slow like his eyelids are heavy, and you’re overwhelmed with the desire to leave kisses all over his puffy cheeks. 

you put discarded clothing as well as any dirty blankets in your laundry basket, then climb under the duvet with him. he’s warm and cozy when you pull him to lay on your chest again.

it’s silent for a few minutes, but you know he’s not asleep, because his breath is irregular.

“...noona?” he calls out so quietly you’re surprised you hear it, alert to make sure he’s got everything he needs, so you hum in response. 

“did you mean it? that you think i’m…handsome, and stuff?” he mumbles. his voice is so soft and sweet that you just wanna eat him up, but you don’t wanna disturb his comfort. 

“i meant every word, anton. i’ve adored you since we met.” you confess while running your fingers through his fluffy, tangled hair. 

moments of silence pass.

“i think i’ve been denying my crush on you for the past four weeks.” he whispers again, almost uncertain. his words have your heartbeat picking up, the idea of him reciprocating your romantic feelings makes you so happy you could jump on the bed, because you don’t know how you would’ve gone back to being just friends after tonight.

similar thoughts run through anton’s mind. he can’t believe he didn’t see his feelings for you sooner. it feels like after a full week, he’s finally able to relax into his skin again. you’re so comforting, and remembering how you took care of him gives him butterflies. curiously, he looks up at you, and your eyes are staring back at him, as soft and sparkly as they’ve always been. he can’t believe how deep his feelings for you actually run. 

your lips curl into a big smile, then you're suddenly cupping his cheeks and pressing warm, wet kisses all over his face.

“so cute. you’re so, so cute. i can’t resist any longer.” you say through smooches. he grunts in feigned annoyance, pretending that his heart isn’t threatening to jump out of his chest. you lay him back down, but he still has one question on his mind.

“noona, w-will you…be my girlfriend?” his uncertain tone is back, despite everything.

“i better be.” you say lightly, half-joking. you continue running your fingers through his hair, and anton’s eyelids become so heavy that he can’t keep them open despite wanting to stay here in this moment with you. 

you want to be sure before you drift off yourself, so you wait for a few more minutes, and then his breath evens out, and anton falls asleep.

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : this story on ao3 <33 pls lmk if i missed any tags i should add! this is my first ff so it's lacking, but i tried my best to fix up any obvious plotholes!!

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-four of “obligatory sugar baby Kon”; no cut today. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He can at least put in a bit more effort than just a jump or two, though, so he just speeds up and skates up a few feet along the sides of the bowl a few times, weaving up and down as he goes. He’s getting more comfortable with the board, at least, and he did get it adjusted pretty well back at the shop, so at least he’ll be able to do actual tricks. 

Like . . . whenever he stops feeling incredibly self-conscious about the fact Kon is currently watching him and waiting to see what he’s got. 

. . . . . . yeah, Tim needs to just metaphorically jump off the ledge and hope he didn’t fuck up his grapple line check before patrol. 

He exhales, and then kicks off hard and goes straight for the opposite side of the bowl to get some momentum, and then goes straight up the vert, pops the nose and front wheels of his board over the coping and lets the middle of the deck land on the coping; does a quick seesaw back and forth on the board and then shifts his balance back onto the tail to pop the front wheels back up and roll backwards back the way he came on his back wheels; lets the nose drop back down on the bottom of the bowl and does a quick revert to flip his board around halfway to the opposite side and repeat the same quick seesaw trick on the coping there. 

It doesn’t feel remotely impressive compared to even the kinds of things Robin can do, much less the things other metas can do, and also he’s pretty sure Kon would check out completely if he named a single thing he was doing or used any skate talk whatsoever, in fact, but since doing anything as impressive as Robin would do is a bad, bad idea, well, he doesn’t have much choice. 

. . . then again, Kon’s perspective is probably at least a little bit skewed there, right? And the park’s not that big and mostly empty at this hour, and the last few stragglers seem to be clearing out anyway. So . . . 

Hm, Tim thinks, slow and speculative. 

Look, he’s not Tony Hawk or anything here, but . . . 

“Take your time over there, babe!” Kon calls from the lip of the bowl, cupping his hands around his mouth and grinning at him again. Tim feels, again, incredibly unimpressive. 

And notes, again, how empty the park actually is, and what Kon’s assumptions about civilian levels of athleticism involve. It’s not like Kon doesn’t know Tim Drake’s in shape, if his TTK–just, never mind, but yeah. 

So yeah, Tim thinks, glancing speculatively around the park for a moment before glancing back to Kon. Why the hell not? 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, then . . . 

Well, then he does something a little closer to “impressive”. 

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Posterior Penchant

A/N: Is this inspired from the recent reblog? YEP. Aren’t we all obsessed with them Stark peaches? Hope y’all join me in this butt obsession.

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: Nothing except maybe fixation over a fine piece of 🍑

.

It was gradually turning into a fixation.

But you really couldn’t help it. In your defence, he kept bringing it up, or rather in your line of vision…or vicinity…or he was just turning his back and showing off that perfect bubble butt. A lot.

Tony Stark and his fine behind had become your obsession off late.

Any chance you’d get, you were either shamelessly ogling at it, or sneakily caressing or pinching it. Not that he would ever admit it, but your boyfriend secretly loved every second of it. And that feigned annoyance sounded something like —

“Jesus! Would you give a guy some warning before you go groping his butt cheeks in public?”

“You’re just waiting for any chance you get to touch my ass, aren’t you woman?”

You couldn’t be blamed. The way his well-endowed bubble butt looked in those sweatpants he wore around the house or in those slate-grey trousers, or in his Iron Man armour, it was more than enough to get you going.

“You put in extra effort doing those squats and lunges, don’t you Mister Buttocks?” You would giggle, standing next to him all while your free hand wandered over to his behind to gently tap it.

The blush on that handsome face was unmissable and quite adorable.

“Get this lady away from me! She’s a threat to me and my glorious booty.” Tony exclaimed one day, pretending to run away from you to gain a laugh that made his heart sing.

I love Mr. Duck Butt 😭🫶🏻

[aurumacadicus]

I just had a funny idea omg:

"Hey, so, do you have like. Any mutant powers or anything?" Steve asked carefully.

Sam did not turn from the water fountain. "No."

Bucky looked like it took all of his self control not to vibrate into orbit. "So this little friend that's been following us around the park--"

"It's a bird," Sam barked, finally turning around to glare at him. "We're being stalked by a pigeon, Barnes. This isn't funny. It could be controlled by a villain."

"You are being stalked by a pigeon," Bucky corrected gleefully.

"Stop fighting," Steve sighed, watching as the pigeon desperately flapped its wings at the spout to fill a dog bowl. He stepped on the button, and the pigeon greedily flapped under the stream of water. "I don't think it's being controlled by a villain. A villain would make it forget it was thirsty."

Sam and Bucky considered this, watching as the bird gulped a beakful of water one time out of five, as if it was not used to having a beak. "Well now I feel bad," Sam said. It has been following him since he left the VA last night.

Bucky groaned. "This means we have to ask Tony for help, doesn't it?"

Steve shot him a glare. "Why is that bad?"

"He's gonna hyper focus and make a means of communication for Lucky, Alpine, and Liho, I just know it," Bucky sighed miserably.

Sam took off his shirt and knelt down, carefully wrapping it around the panting, soaked pigeon. "Come on, buddy," he said as Steve and Bucky began bickering behind him. "Let's get you some help." Maybe, if he asked Tony without the bickering soldiers, Tony would be more concerned about their new pigeon friend.

--

Remarkably, Tony already had a nice bird setup. "Jarvis used to keep quail," he'd explained with a shrug as he showed them through the old Stark mansion.

The pigeon seemed to appreciate the heaters and bowls of bird seed, although it never seemed to quite get a knack for the water bowls.

Tony let Sam help when it came to putting the communication device together, which he appreciated, because the more he watched the pigeon, the less like a bird it seemed. Or at least, the less like a New York street pigeon, anyway. It didn't gorge itself while it had the chance, and it mostly hobbled around on the ground instead of trying to fly up to one of the perches. That could have been because it was still recovering from exhaustion, but Sam doubted it.

"Et voilá," Tony said as they finished it. "If it's a bird, it'll tell us about fries."

Sam raised an eyebrow at him even as he followed Tony to the bird pen. "You know what birds talk about?"

"I have had enough bags of fries stolen to know," Tony told him primly as he turned the communicator on. "Speak, pigeon."

"Sam my brother accidentally turned me into a bird after we left your office yesterday," the pigeon wailed. "He got scared and ran away and I couldn't keep up with him or open the door to go back into your office I AM A PIGEON WITH PTSD NOW SAM!!!!!"

"Oh my God Jessica," Sam gasped, and Tony clapped a hand over his mouth and turned away, shoulders shaking with the effort not to laugh. "We'll figure this out FUCKING STOP LAUGHING TONY."

"It is kind of funny," Jessica said reluctantly.

"It fucking isn't you're a BIRD, JESSICA!" Sam bellowed.

"Yeah, but it's also the first time I slept through the night without waking up screaming, so," Jessica continued.

"Animal therapy," Tony choked, and then screamed when Sam chased him out of the enclosure.

[fluffyfantasticducky]

Focus on the Good

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki is overwhelmed dealing with being accused as a traitor, although this time he's innocent. But this time, he is not the man he used to be, and he has you by his side.

☆ Word Count: 5,110

☆ Notes: The relatively awaited part two of Smile for me. Sorry I took so long to post this, I had a creative block and had trouble deciding what to focus on. The traitor plot twist is anticlimatic but I chose to focus more on Loki and his feelings.

☆ Warnings: Loki dealing with self hatred, insinuations and caresses that aren't spicy per se but are a bit more intimate and flirty but it's all sfw.

Frustrating. How else could he call it?

His first mission as a leader was a complete disaster. You had gotten hurt due to his own incompetence. And add some insult to this pathetic situation, now he was being investigated for treason to S.H.I.E.L.D. despite that he was completely innocent.

It must have been some sick twisted joke of fate. He spent years playing with Asgard like a fiddle, getting away with so much, to the point that where he committed treason everyone realized only when it was too late. And now that he had a reason to make things right, be transparent and honest, now he was investigated as if he was some traitor.

The most offensive thing of those implications was that it suggested that Loki was either using you or lying to you. When in reality he would die for you, he’d walk through fire if you asked him. Or that you were complicit of his ‘crimes.’ You, you who were the kindest, sweetest, most righteous person he had ever met.

Every day or two days at most they come to either interrogate you, him, or inspect your shared room which always left them a mess to clean up.

At least the people he cared about knew he was innocent. Thor was constantly arguing with Fury, going over and over about how this was nonsensical and even offering Loki to flee to New Asgard for a few days until things calmed down. Valkyrie had offered him an extra room if he needed. Bruce, while he wasn’t as passionate about defending Loki, agreed that it made very little sense that Loki would betray them now with all he had accomplished. Even the great Tony Stark agreed between sarcastic jokes that he would’ve believed if he hadn’t seen how down bad, he was for you.

You… what would he do without you? You not only got into mad arguments and made abundantly clear your distaste for this decision, but you were his biggest source of support and peace after all the draining routine he was being put through during the suspension from missions. You were a risk taker by disobeying direct orders from Fury by asking Thor, Bruce, Nat, Clint to trade with you during missions as to make a strike until they decided to reintegrate Loki to his normal duties. And for the first week of interrogations, whenever it was your turn… Norns, he felt a bit bad for the director. You were quite loud and fierce when you wanted to be.

But most importantly, all the support he got from you after all the interrogations and room inspections that hurt him more than he’d ever admit.

“I’m sorry…” he sighed, resting his head on your lap.

In between the inspections to your shared bedroom one of the agents had broken a little figurine you collected.

“It’s just a toy, I’ll get another one…” you assured him.

Loki could sense a lie. But he also remembered how excited you had been when you got it, saying it was rare and it had taken you a huge effort to get it.

“You darling prince…” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. We know you’re innocent, soon all of S.H.I.E.L.D. will see it too. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

“What did I do so right to deserve such a pretty angel such as you?” he chuckled. “You are unfairly good to me.”

“You keep saying that baby.” You spoke gently, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear. “You sound like a broken record.”

“I might be one” he shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Yeah?” you giggled. “Then I’ll just have to fix you.”

“I thought you said the I can fix him was a toxic mentality in romance” he said cheekily.

“Oh, now you remember my movie rants” you laughed. “But the I can fix him trope is toxic when—”

“…It is used by the abuser who manipulates them into staying as a rehabilitation center. A partner should be part of your support group but never the responsible to fix you, but a motivation and helping hand while you fix yourself.” He opened his eyes to look up at you as he finished repeating your old rant word by word. “I always remember the things you say.”

“Is that so? When is our anniversary?”

“June 9” Loki smiled and noticed you opening your mouth to retort. “And our 1,000 days together is on March 5th year. And yes, I knew you were going to ask that.”

“Smart pants” you smiled.

“You love me like that.”

“I do” you smiled and kissed his lips softly. “Guess you don’t need fixing after all.”

“Glad we agree, I am the most perfect man” he grinned, relishing the way you cringed and smiled at the silly joke.

“I don’t know about that.” You smiled, “But you are perfect for me.”

You pecked his lips and made him smile.

“I don’t deserve you…” he smiled.

“Oh, that’s it!” you laughed and soon your hands where all over his sides.

And sooner than that Loki was laughing his head off.

“Hehe- hey!” he protested between laughs.

You had an annoying charm. Tickling him silly as a pseudo-punishment. It was your shared secret how much Loki enjoyed being tickled. You stopped soon enough, smiling at him, caressing your thumb across his cheek.

“It’ll pass before you notice…” you whisper. “They will see exactly what you truly are. Just like I do.”

Loki chuckled softly.

“I hope not, you are a handful already” he smirked at the offended look on your face due to his comment.

“Oh, you want to talk about a handful…” you growled as you flipped to straddle him. “Let’s see how much of a handful I can be…”

Loki gulped, unable to fight a smile.

“Ahah…” he huffed, “darling, d-don’t… d-dohohohon’t!”

But your hands were already attacking his sides, your fingers skillfully scribbling along his skin, prodding his ribs, drilling along each crevice in the most maddening way.

“Is that enough handful for you, huh?” you asked in a faux anger. “Eh? Is it?”

“Thihihihihihis is cruel!” Loki protested. “And thahahahat doesn’t mahahake sehehense!”

“Mmm, it might have just been excuse to get my hands on this hot bod of yours” you smiled.

Being tickled was already a vulnerable moment for Loki. To the point where only you could tickle him without any resistance. Anyone else would need to overpower him physically or just restrain him. You, on the other side, he would barely fight back. He’d simply squirm in his place, rolling over to the side or on his stomach. Which it gave you more of a sensation that he just wanted you to focus on other spots. Not that he'd ever admit… you had tried.

“Ehehehe! You ahahahaha— wait no!” he protested as your fingers reached his stomach, giving it little pinches and pokes. “Lohohohove, stop!”

“Alright, alright.” You smiled and kissed his forehead as you stopped the tickling. “Is your mood better?”

“Ihi— if I say yes will you stop torturing my stomach?” he smiled at you, holding onto your hips. “You know I can’t take it there.”

The way you leaned against his chest to kiss his lips never failed to drive him wild. And this wasn’t the exception.

“I am aware” you hummed against his lips. “That’s why it’s my favorite spot to tickle.”

“I am, unfortunately, also aware of that” he chuckled.

“If you really minded it, you’d actually do something to stop me instead of just laughing your heart out.”

“I love it when a beautiful mortal has their hands all over me, is that something to be ashamed about?” he grinned cheekily at you.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. “It wouldn’t be if you were still single. But you are stuck with me now and forgive me if I’m not good at sharing my boyfriend. Unless you’d share me with others.”

“That is out of the question. You are mine, and mine alone.” He said solemnly as he held you in his arms. You lifted your eyebrows, expectantly as he felt his cheeks warm up under your gaze. “As… I am yours; I suppose.”

“Was that so hard to say?” you smiled.

“Terribly so” Loki smiled. But then, his face adopted a serious, melancholic expression. “I’m sorry… I should not be dragging you into this disaster. You deserve better, and I fear you will realize that. It would be best for you, but… I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Lucky for you, that’s not something you have to worry about” you assured him, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. I am perfectly happy with you.”

One thing that Loki loved about your relationship was that despite knowing you said stuff to made him feel better, it never came off as dishonest, as if those two concepts weren’t mutually exclusive. You said the kindest, most loving things, and he could tell you honestly felt every single one.

It made his heart soar. That honest and kind heart of yours was exactly what he had been craving for. You were what he had been looking for.

It made him want to open his heart to you. You were kind and listened to him without judging or thinking the worst of him.

“What am I going to do?” he sighed. “If I can’t go on missions, soon I will not be allowed to go outside, and then I will be going back to being a high-class prisoner.”

“Actually… you can’t leave the building given you’re under investigation” you said apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Lovely…” he groaned, throwing his head back, rubbing his face with his palms. “I am back to being a prisoner. Might as well get inside a cell.”

“Yes, we could tie you up, and torture you until you confess” you purred, trailing kisses along his jawline, as your hands made their way to play with his hair.

“You’re making it sound appealing” he hummed, relishing the feeling of your lips against his skin. “Mmm~ Keep touching me like that and I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Mm, what a good boy” you giggled, kissing his lips.

He laughed along with you, but mostly because your hands had found his ears and were tickling behind them.

“W-Whahahat are you doing? T-That tickles!” he laughed.

“I told you I would torture an answer out of you” you giggled, tickling the back of his ears. “Now confess, you war criminal!”

“Nohohoho, stohop it!” he squirmed underneath you. “How is thahahat spot so bahahad?”

“Right?” you chuckled, pressing loving kisses along his face. “I found out the other day while we were kissing.”

He grabbed your wrists. “Oh really?” he smirked, and trapped your wrists in one of his hands as he began tickling your ear shell and behind it. It took absolutely nothing to have you giggling like a kid.

“Ehehehe! L-Loki!” you giggled. “Hehehe! I-It tickles!”

“It does, does it not?” he chuckled.

He traced along the outline of your ear. He relished the way you laughed against him, you never tried to get away nor asked him to stop. You loved that closeness as much as Loki did.

“Mmm, that laugh of yours is so lovely~” he hummed as he stopped, tucking a few streaks of hair behind your ear. “It’s my favorite sound in the whole world, you make me so happy.”

“Cheesy” you chuckled, kissing his lips.

“I mean that, darling” he smiled. “Without you I would have gone mad by now. Or worse, I would be a prisoner.”

“You can’t believe that…” you spoke softly.

“What else am I supposed to believe?” he sighed, “what I did to New York is unforgivable. I should be locked up for life, I was going to be… It’s what I deserve. It took me too long to understand it.”

It broke your heart to hear him talk like that. It was a shame that he still punished himself so badly. You appreciated that he recognized his error, but the fact that it haunted him was painful to watch. He was already working on getting better.

“Loki… Your beef with Earth had its particular and complicated circumstances, it wasn’t 100% your fault.” You assured him. “But even if that was, there are other ways to atone for your mistakes… Punishing yourself but you were helping Earth, compensation is another way of redemption. Being an Avenger is a way to redeem yourself.”

“How do you do it?” he chuckled, “How do you manage to look at all the awful things I have done and still somehow see the best in me?”

“Because I’ve also seen how much you regret it, and I’ve seen you trying to prove to everyone, prove to yourself that you are doing better.” you spoke lovingly. “That means a lot, to me, to Thor, to everyone.”

“But why?” he asked. “What I did is…”

“Fucked up, yes. Tony and Bruce created a genocidal robot, Clint was an international criminal prisoner and retook as an assassin, Steve and Natasha were literal war criminals, your brother before you nearly started a war—”

“That I provoked him into.”

“Would you do it again?” you asked.

“For the sake of entertainment—” Loki pondered.

“Loki!” you giggled.

“I’m jesting, love!” he laughed. “Earth is no good in wars like Asgard, we fight to settle disagreements, make alliances, or get respect. But never to destroy.”

“We’re not so bad…” you smiled.

“Not all of you, no.” Loki agreed. “You for once are a wonderful mor— human. Smart, beautiful, funny, kind… It’s the people on the higher power that worry me.”

“It’s as they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely” you shrugged. “That’s what we fight for. For those without power, and against those who abuse it.”

“You say that as I remain locked in here, simply training and withering away” Loki sighed.

“Well… we can find something interesting to keep you occupied—”

“Reindeer games, out now!” Tony banged on the door.

“Not now Stark!” Loki called annoyed.

“You’ll want to see this.” Tony spoke through the other side of the door.

You stood up and Loki followed right after. Everyone was headed to the meeting room so that’s where you went to.

Bruce and Thor had one of the younger cadets, Philip. He was struggling against the two. His blonde hair was a mess and he looked like he had lost a fight.

“We found our traitor, brother.” Thor said firmly, even a bit prideful. “The little rat sabotaged our missions.”

“A double agent?” Steve asked.

“Self-sabotage” Bruce clarified. “He informed the base you were going. Who and when. And exactly how to take down a god. We found a report of the mission sent to an unknown address.”

“I found it.” Natasha stated.

“You?” Clint raised an eyebrow.

“We” she corrected herself.

“With my technology, that is.” Tony added. “In case anyone was wondering.”

“No one was wondering that, Tony” Steve smiled lightly, amused by the genius’ ego.

“But why? You were the only non-Avenger agent Loki chose personally” Thor asked. “My brother trusted you. And it was a wonderful opportunity for you.”

Fury looked… well, furious.

“Philip Crowe, you’re immediately and effectively removed from all S.H.I.E.L.D. work and installations, permanently for treason, espionage, and sabotage to an elite strike agent.” Fury said firmly.

“Elite?! He’s a monster!” the young man protested, struggling to break free from the arm lock. “It’s a time bomb! It’s in his nature! You’ve seen what he’s capable of! It’s a matter of time before we have New York part two! You’ve read myths, what guarantees that there won’t be a Ragnarök on Earth?! He—”

SMACK! He had been cut off by a slap in the face by you. If the stinging in his cheek was not enough to silence him, your cold glare silenced him.

“Take him away.” You said. “I want him rotting in a cell for a really long time…”

“Oh, he will be locked in the dark for a very long time” Fury agreed, “for espionage, and sabotage… And being an asshole as a whole.”

Thor was about to take him away. He was struggling to break free.

“Don’t.” Loki spoke up. “I’ll use a spell to delete his memories, about S.H.I.E.L.D. about the Avengers. Everything will be gone from his mind. He can live a normal life not remembering being an agent.”

Loki walked and looked down at him. Placed his hand on his forehead as the blond struggled. Loki let his Seidr flow and Philip’s body went limp.

“When he wakes up, he’ll be normal, he can have a normal life, he won’t be a risk for S.H.I.E.L.D.” he sighed and left the room.

Flowers bloomed under him as he sat by the lake. Just enjoying the familiar view. But not even that brought him any joy.

“Loki, there you are, honey.”

“Hello mother” Loki smiled. “I was just… thinking.”

“I thought you would be happy to get your naming” Frigga said. “You were excited this morning to receive your title.”

“God of Mischief, mother?” he asked. “Does that mean I’m supposed to cause trouble?”

“Is that so bad?”

“Will father get upset at me?” Loki asked. “Besides, you like annoying your brother.”

“Pranking Thor is different. Why could I be the God of rain, wind, or something, then Thor and I could be gods together.”

“You can’t revolve your personality around Thor. Your godly title is meant to reflect your personality, not your brother’s” Frigga smiled at him gently. “Your father gave you a title that would fit you.”

“Does father think I’m a bad son?” he asked.

“I think your father thinks you’re creative, smart, with good abilities to get away with what you want” Frigga assured him. “All qualities you do have. And you are quite cheeky.”

Loki chuckled weakly. Frigga smiled and picked up a purple flower and wiggled it against Loki’s face. Causing the young god to scrunch up his nose and swat the pretty flower away.

“You know, son. I think it’s time for you to start learning magic” Frigga said.

“But you said I had to wait until I was 500 years old” Loki asked.

“I think you’re ready” Frigga said, “You’re 250 years old already, and you just got your title. You are a big boy now.”

With a few elegant movements the violet on Frigga’s hands turned into a purple frog that jumped out of hands and into the pond. Loki giggled as his mother’s arms trapped him into a hug as she tickled his sides.

“Pretty memory” you looked at him as you sat next to him. “Your mom is pretty.”

“Most beautiful woman in all of Asgard” Loki agreed. “Do you know what Orvokki means?”

“Uhh, it’s a violet, right?” you said looking at the flowers around the lake.

“It can also be interpreted as little orphan. How ironic that it was my favorite flower as a child…” Loki grumbled.

He flicked his wrist and the illusion of his memory vanished. He was no longer in Asgard, he was sitting on the rooftop of the compound’s main building. He wasn’t with his mother. And his eyes were red from crying.

“That was really nice thing you did back there” you congratulated him as you rubbed circles across his back.

“Not bad for a monster, huh?” Loki huffed out, in a failed attempt to fake out a laugh. “Did you see the way he looked at me? The fear in his eyes…?”

“Don’t listen to him…” you said resting your head against his shoulder. “He never gave you a chance to prove how good you really are. That’s his problem, not yours.”

“I can’t blame him… I would not trust me either… I am a monster, I was a monster to my people, to my home…” he sighed.

“What? No, Loki…”

“My birth father abandoned me to die, I was raced by a kingdom that thought my kind were monsters…” Loki sighed, “and I caused so much pain and death to a Realm that could’ve seen me as something quite literally divine.”

You looked at him and squeezed his hand.

“I thought… I hoped I had a second chance, I wanted to believe people were already accepting me. I thought that if I could have at least one agent to trust me… How foolish of me…”

“Stop that…” you scolded him, giving his hand a gentle and loving squeeze. “You’re not a monster. No one sees you as a monster.”

Loki laughed bitterly. While you weren’t lying in the literal sense, you were being too kind, blinded by your affection for the young Asgardian to acknowledge the recent events.

“I mean it!” you said. “You’re so focused on one person thinking you’re a monster, that you fail to see what everyone else did because they believed in you. They all helped in their own way to prove you were innocent. Either tracking conversation, providing resources… Gosh, even director Fury trusted you were innocent.”

“I…” Loki recapped the events from earlier. You weren’t wrong.

“Besides, you know how picky I am when it comes to dating” you smiled, “I wouldn’t date just anyone. Is that not enough for you?”

Loki was silent for a moment, for once he didn’t even have a smart reply for that.

He had seen you turn down a couple of agents or staff members before the two of you started dating. Philip among the lines of the rejected. In fact, he remembered that during that time where the other Avengers noticed his feelings for you, some of them tried to discourage him from courting you, because “you didn’t date.” In fact, they had brought it up, on his face to prove it so. You were, in fact, very picky when it came to dating. Which just made him value your relationship even more. It gave him a huge confidence boost, and the security of not being replaced or overshadowed he so desperately had been needing.

And once again, you were that source of comfort and security. You were his sweet little balm.

“I… um…” he stuttered.

You chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“Tongue tied?” you teased him, making him groan in frustration as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Just… don’t give him power over you, if he didn’t bother knowing you, he shouldn’t deserve such a space in your mind.”

“Thanks, love” he smiled softly. “For… looking after me. And… helping me see that others look after me.”

“Heh… I’m glad I helped” you spoke lovingly as you rubbed your nose against his neck.

He chuckled rested his cheek against the top of your head.

“Should we head inside?” you asked, rubbing your own arms, as you stood up “it’s a bit chilly out here.”

“You can go inside, love” Loki offered. “I need some time alone.”

You looked at him worried, but a gust of cold wind made you shiver, making the idea of going inside more and more appealing. But he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the way you didn’t want to leave him alone made him smile.

“I promise I’ll meet you inside later” he assured you. But you didn’t look too convinced “Make some tea for us, and I’ll meet you in our room before you’re done putting on your pajamas.”

You gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher but you nodded and made your way inside.

He relished the fresh air. But as he mentally prepared to be burdened with his failure, he surprised himself smiling. His mind wasn’t clouded with the young spy that betrayed him.

All he could think was that all the original Avengers, those he had cursed himself for unintentionally helping assemble to defeat him… now had stood up for him. And it didn’t stop there.

His mind was filled with happy memories.

All the times he had gotten a pat in the back from Tony and being called his new favorite for teasing Steve’s righteous stiffness and the way Bucky and Sam snickered at it. As well as his training contests with the super soldiers to test their serum with Loki and Thor’s godly nature. How he beamed with pride at the blond’s praise after a mission. The way Natasha and her little sister acknowledge his ability to infiltrate and swoon targets and even required him specifically. How Clint and his little new protegee had gotten really happy when Loki gifted them his old Asgardian bows for them, despite the teasing when they saw right through his “I don’t even use them” excuse and treated for dinner after. Bruce acknowledging his observation capabilities during some of his experiments. Thor… who despite all the awful things they had gone through never abandoned him, and still saw Loki as his baby brother, and despite they refused to admit it, both still adored each other.

And you. You had stolen his heart from minute one. He had been hopeless before the first kiss or even a declaration. Your eyes brought him to his knees, and he had sworn to be at your mercy for the rest of his existence when he saw you smile. And with that power you had over him done nothing but nourish him. Your payback when he pestered you was always fun and harmless. You made him laugh. You listened to everything he said and always encouraged him to keep talking until he was hoarse. You gave him the attention he had been craving for so many years. You treated him as the most important being of the universe.

Honestly, he didn’t realize when his thoughts had set him in motion. But by the time he was aware of his actions, he was already turning the doorknob of your shared bedroom.

“Liar” you scoffed, throwing a teddy bear to his face as soon as he set foot inside the room. “You said you’d be here before I was done putting on my jammies, but it’s been 5 minutes since I got in bed, and you weren’t here.”

Loki couldn’t help but smile. For a secret agent, you were terrible at hiding your feelings… at least from him.

“I apologize for not keeping my word, love” he apologized as he took off his shirt and searched through his drawer for the pajama he wanted to wear. “I lost track of time.”

“Did you drink?” you asked him.

“I did not. I trusted my favorite thing to make me tea” he responded with an innocent look as he put on his pajama shirt.

“It’s on your night table” you responded with the slightest pout, knowing you it was because he saw right through you.

He walked to the warm mug and took a sip. Of course, you had prepared his favorite tea… and with extra honey, just the way he liked. Everyone always complained there would never be enough for everyone if you kept spoiling Loki with his favorite all the time. You always got more, but it just meant starting the cycle again.

“Thank you, dear” he smiled as he kneeled on the bed to reach and cup your face to kiss your cheek.

Oh, how he wanted to tackle you and cover you in kisses at the way you fought and lost against the smile that appeared on your lovely face along with a light shade of pink.

“So adorable…” he chuckled.

As he was taking off his pants, he saw the way your blush turned even darked. He rushed to put on the pajama pants and dove in the bed, wrapping his arms around you in a loving embrace with his chest against your back.

“You’re in a lovely mood” you smiled as you reached to caress his cheek. “What gives?”

“I just thought about a lovely little mortal” he hummed pressing soft kisses on your nape, “that makes my darkest days bright and cozy.”

“Do you have a fever or something?” you touched his forehead.

“No, I mean it!” he laughed. “I stayed back to think… and all I could think about was your love, your kindness, and this hot body of yours…”

As he spoke that last bit, he reached to caress your sides, making you giggle.

“Loki…!” you giggle swatting his hand away. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“You know I am” he whispered, resting his face against your shoulder. Taking in your scent, closing his eyes as he relaxed. “Norns, what would I do without you?”

“Probably snuggle your pillow tonight” you smiled. “But you’d be fine.”

“I would not…” Loki choked up, as he felt tears forming in his eyes. “I would be lost; I would be absolutely nothing without you. A monster…”

“No, no, baby…” you spoke softly, turning around to face him. “You’ve worked really hard to be better… That’s all you, you are utterly and undoubtedly wonderful…”

The way you always made him feel better was almost scary. Your word was law. If you said he was so good, then… perhaps he wasn’t as bad as he thought.

“I love you…” he whispered. “Thank you…”

“What for?”

“For being my second chance… For believing I was more than the man that caused so much pain to your people…”

“Second chances are earned, Loki” you said. “You’ve earned it.”

He laughed softly when you rose up to sit on his waist, straddling him with your legs as you gave him a pseudo-menacing look.

“Now speak poorly of my sweet cuddly honeybun and you will be sorry…” you said in the worse threatening tone he had ever heard.

He cringed and laughed softly at the overly cheesy pet name.

“Oh gods…” he muttered with a shaky smile as his lips twitched upwards, amused by the situation. “You goofball.”

You let out an offended gasp and started tickling his sides, immediately making him giggle like a child.

“W-Wait! Dahahaharling! I’m sohohohohohrry!” he whined between laughs.

“Nope! Sorry ain’t gonna cut it this time, you insult me, you insult my prince… you deserve being chastised” you said playfully as you tickled his belly, which always made him hysterical.

“NAHAHAHA! STOP! STOP! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” he cackled, soon wheezing. He was so ridiculously ticklish that had had no chance fighting back or think about anything else but the tingles that made him howl with laughter.

But he wouldn’t change this kind of silly fun with his darling for the world. And if he was honest with himself, this was a great thing to focus on.

| MASTERPOST |

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (9)- Training Session

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 3.8k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, flashbacks, graphic depictions of murder/gore/violence

—

Hiding a subtle smile from the redhead, you continued to walk alongside her towards the training room, your eyes widening in shock at how luxurious and open the space was. Various equipment was scattered around the room, designated areas for different training tasks, the group from earlier in the common room waiting for you and Natasha, chatting amongst themselves until they caught sight of you. You could feel the anxiety creeping up on you at their stares, mind instantly going to the negative thoughts and dwelling on them, assuming that they already viewed you as a monster, especially Steve.

Whilst trying to ignore their inquisitive stares, your eyes flickered over to the large mirror that stretched across one of the walls, your reflection sending you a sinister smile as they haunted you, gaze instantly switching to the floor.

Don't hide from me Soldat, we're going to have some fun here.

They chuckled out menacingly, Wanda's head tilting in confusion across the room as you approached the group, Natasha turning her head to the side to see your gaze still locked on the floor, the small smile from earlier nowhere to be seen as your jaw was tightly clenched.

"Look who finally showed up," Tony says, voice containing hints of sarcasm as he flashes you both a charming smile, your eyes eventually rising to look over the equipment they were standing in front of . The team were just standing in front of standard gym equipment, albeit the expensive and fancy version, your brows furrowing at what they wanted you to do as they just stared at you expectantly.

"We need to test your physical attributes to try and get a picture of your enhanced abilities," Clint said, taking over from Natasha as she left to quietly converse with Wanda, the young witch keeping her curious gaze on you as Clint instructed you on all the equipment.

To say you shocked some of the team would have been an understatement, Sam and Tony both amazed by your lack of effort at lifting some of the weights, Steve trying to dismiss them by saying they weren't that heavy, until you just about managed to lift his personal best, struggling a little more than him but still able to complete a couple reps. With the size difference between the two of you and your inadequate diet at Hydra, Clint predicted that with the right training you would be even stronger than Steve, his brows raising in an impressed manner.

"Extreme enhanced strength," Clint muttered, taking note of how much you were able to lift and how many reps you could do, chuckling to himself as he saw Natasha and Wanda both look a little in awe at how your arms flexed with each weight, a mischievous glance being sent Natasha's way as she snapped out of it.

You were then asked to run on a treadmill, your mind zoning out as you ran at whatever the pace the machine was set on, adapting to the increased speed and gradient when Clint would alter it, Tony messing about with it at one point to see how you would react, furrowing his brows as you didn't seem to notice, too busy in your own mind.

You didn't think of much, simply remembering the view from earlier, imaging what it would be like to properly explore the forests nearby, hoping that soon they would trust you enough to let you go there.

You broke a little sweat when Clint left the machine on the highest it could go speed and gradient wise, everyone watching how you continued to sprint, the sound of your running eventually reaching your ears as you came back to grips with reality, looking over to your side to see Natasha close, inspecting a screen of your vitals nearby projected by the machine. Her brows were furrowed a little in confusion, her curious gaze meeting yours before she smiled at you, a small one inevitably sneaking onto your face.

"Enhance endurance and speed," Clint said, noting how far you had managed to run and how long you were able to keep up a consistent speed that rivalled Steve's pace, the other super soldier looking at you in annoyance as you were proving to be an improved version of him.

After a few more physical tests, you were moved onto a shooting range, your body tensing up as a memory from your fractured mind resurfaced.

Your hand trembled as you held the gun between your fingers, your index hovering reluctantly over the trigger as the body tied to the chair struggled against their restraints, muffled sobs escaping them as they shook their head that was hidden by a secure black bag tied around it.

"Practise your shot Soldat," the man ordered, looking down at your younger self that conveyed weakness and hesitation, body still recovering from your last session of serum. When the body continued to struggle, the man moved closer, causing a shiver to run down your spine in terror. "Don't make me ask again, Soldat. Take the shot."

Lining up the gun in your hand with their head, you had no choice but to do as he said, too fearful of experiencing another punishment. Pulling the trigger, the sobs immediately were silenced as the bullet glided through their skull, killing them instantly.

"I want you to kill one more," he ordered repeatedly, his tone sinister as another body was dragged into the chair, the other discarded carelessly as the failed experiment was of no further use. The cries swiftly turned silent, over and over again as you shot bullet after bullet, your accuracy becoming as precise as possible, listening to the order of where you were supposed to shoot.

Soon, you watched as another body was dragged in, the usual black bag around their head gone as fearful eyes pleaded you to spare their life, to do anything but pull the trigger. The soft brown that met your gaze had hope and desperation swirling in them but that was soon drained out of them along with their life, a trail of blood oozing down the front of their face as the bullet hole left a gaping wound at the centre of their head.

"She does know how to use a gun, right?" Tony said in confusion as you just stared ahead at the wooden board that was the target, a few others looking at each other curiously as they waited for you to do something. Steve crossed his arms over his chest, watching you with furrowed brows as he had a feeling something was going to go wrong, his eyes flickering over to Wanda's who were faintly glowing red, a pained look taking over her face when another memory resurfaced.

The barrel of the gun was pointed to the underside of the guard's jaw, a cruel and dangerous smile on your face as you had lost control to the darkness within you, a sinister chuckle escaping them as they pressed the gun harder against the guard that was trapped in your grip, their strength no match to yours.

"Let him go Soldat," another guard commanded but you didn't obey, laughing at the pounding heart of the guard in your arms, drunk on his fear. "You know the consequences of disobeying the General," he states but they didn't care, the darkness would leave you to suffer the punishment.

The other guard's eyes widened in surprise when your finger pulled the trigger, blood splattering all over the wall behind you as well as your face, his own hand trembling in terror at your psychotic state, the smile still present of your face as the body slumped to the ground, a pool of crimson forming around it as flesh dangled disgustingly.

"Y/n?" Natasha softly asked, knocking you out of the memory you had just rediscovered, your fragile mind slowly remembering events, needing a trigger to cause the memory. "Hey, focus on me," she whispers, noticing your frantic eyes, fingers trembling by your side, eyes settling on the gun placed in front of you.

Press it to her temple, you know you want to.

They taunted, a low sigh escaping you as they knew how confused and scared you were, adding to the torment that was your broken mind.

You closed your eyes, listening to her words and slowing your breathing, trying to match it to hers and her steady heart rate, the others unable to hear what was being said between the two of you as Natasha stood closer to you and further from them.

"It's just a wooden board, remember that," she whispers, encouraging you to complete the task but reassuring you that no one was going to get hurt.

"Thank you," you murmur back, rolling your shoulders back, trying to get rid of the tenseness that had built inside you, blinking a few times and watching as the wooden board merged into the helpless victims, the blood already oozing down their skin, before it merged back.

"You got this," she says softly, offering you a calm smile as she watches you line up your shot, a deep breath escaping you.

Pulling the trigger, the first bullet glides through the centre of the wooden target's head, exactly in the middle causing a few impressed glances between the team. After that, you emptied the magazine in a quick succession, everyone but Clint's and Nat's eyes furrowing in confusion, theirs in disbelief.

"Did she miss the rest?" Sam quietly asked, Tony shrugging his shoulders while Wanda tilted her head in confusion, Steve remaining silent as Clint shook his head.

"She fired all the other bullets through the same bullet hole," his brows raised in surprise as it was near impossible to get every other bullet to fit in the exact same hole that you first created, yet you seemed to do it effortlessly. You dismantled the weapon before placing it down on the table, waiting for your next task, refusing to look at the target as the vision of the body slumped in the chair wouldn't disappear, blood dripping onto the floor beneath their corpse, the sound subtly echoing in your ears.

"It could have been luck," Steve dismissed, Natasha already a step ahead of him and offering you another round of bullets, her impressed and confident expression calming you, the body blurring back into the wood. You repeated the activity, this time aiming for the wooden target's heart, Steve's argument disproved as you did it once again, Clint becoming a little jealous that there was someone with better accuracy than him.

"What a way to steal my thunder," Clint says while patting your back, your hand grabbing his before he could touch you, your grip tight before you realised he was harmless, letting him go with a shy look, eyes averting as Steve had definitely caught the interaction, his suspicion of you losing control still valid. "What else are you trained in?" he asked, his face apologetic as he should have realised you would still be cautious of others.

"Most firearms, snipers being a speciality, and knife throwing," you say, Clint noting it down and smiling a little as you hadn't mentioned something.

"Archery?" he asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Trained but not my strongest skill," you say, the archer taking that as a win, confident that he would still be able to beat you in an archery competition.

They didn't bother with anymore accuracy tests as it was evident you had impeccable aim, Clint leading you over to some training mats for a sparring session.

"Ok, so the rules are simple," he says while getting into a stance opposite you, the rest of the team standing back as to not get in the way, Steve muttering something under his breath while Tony left, seemingly bored of nothing eventful happening and retreating to his lab, a suit idea for you entering his mind. "Don't fight to hurt the other, play to pin them down. You win by pinning the other for five seconds and don't play dirty because we don't want any injuries," you nod in agreement with his words but hesitate on asking a question, him noticing and motioning for you to speak.

"Should I pull my punches?" you ask a little nervously, another memory resurfacing.

"Stop pulling your punches Soldat," grits out a guard as you dodge an attack from your opponent effortlessly, "You're fighting to the death."

"With your strength, yes please, I want to make it out alive," he jokes but it strikes a nerve within you, shoulders tensed as you get into a fighting stance.

You predominantly take on the role of defence, blocking his attacks as he throws his leg at you, yours knocking it down, body lowering to duck the punch he threw at you. You manoeuvred around him, not throwing any attacks and sticking mainly to defence as you were afraid of hurting him, plus it was beneficial to figure out his fighting pattern. His arm swung once more at you as he tried to kick you again, your forearm taking the brunt of his hit as you side stepped to avoid his boot, your free arm only pushing him in the stomach to stop him from getting another quick shot at him.

"Come on, you're going to have to attack at some point," he says, voice playful as he motions for you to come at him with his hands, smiling at you as you focus. You let him come to you again, the archer trying to up his attacks to force you into attacking, his plan working but not in the way he was thinking. He presumed that the more he attacked, you would eventually feel as though you needed to attack back to stop his onslaught of fists and boots but you didn't react to that, merely blocking them all just at a faster pace. You were waiting purposely, watching how as he attacked more, he left more open spaces for you to hit, patiently waiting for your opportunity to present itself.

Swiping your leg at the opportune moment, his body swiftly fell to the ground at the contact, your body moving on top of his back and pinning him to the ground, his strength incomparable to yours and the awkward position making it impossible for him to escape.

"Five," Natasha says after time, your body easily moving off of his and moving to stand, offering your hand for the archer to take to get back up. You sent him a shy smile as he panted for breath, gratefully taking your hand as you had winded him, eventually making it up onto his feet.

What you didn't expect was for Steve to approach you, his body language and stance indicating he was going to throw a punch, your face just about dodging the unexpected hit.

"Steve," Natasha berated, her gaze cold at the super soldier as he swiped his legs at you with force, using his full abilities as you knew you could handle them. You had to jump over his leg to avoid his boot, your body rolling on the floor as you landed, avoiding his next attack before pushing yourself back up to your feet, blocking his next hit with your forearm, kicking his leg down, not holding back with your own strength as he clearly wasn't.

"You have to be ready for the unexpected," he pants out in reason to Natasha but she just rolls her eyes at him, watching how the two of you fought as you were clearly able to handle him.

He focussed on strength to try and tackle you, his rough hands trying their best to knock you off balance or tire you out but it was to no avail as you slid to the side to dodge or parried the attack, throwing in a few punches when he was left open.

His foot collided with your ribs at one point, knocking you to the ground where you tried your best to move out of the way before he kicked out his other boot, his speed beating yours as his boot collided with your face, knocking you straight back to the ground.

Kill him.

"Steve, what are you doing!" Clint grits out, moving to intercept the fight.

The super soldier didn't reply, simply hoping his plan was working. He wanted you to snap so he could prove that you weren't safe to have on the team as they didn't know if Hydra were still in your head or not, so he needed proof to show they could be and you needed to be clean of them before being allowed anywhere near this team.

Before anyone could intercept the fight, you were tackling Steve to the ground, a pained noise escaping him at how roughly you forced him to the ground, your leg wrapping around his as you moved your body to slot behind his, arm wrapping around his neck and pulling it tighter towards you, his neck strained in your grasp while his leg was bent at a weird angel. If you applied any more pressure to either point, you would easily snap his neck or leg, the man's arms desperately hitting against your side and arm, attempting to ease up your grip.

"That's time, let him go Y/n," Natasha repeated, your eyes blinking back into focus as the man in your arms was turning red, the lack of oxygen causing his arms to stop their feeble attacks.

A loud gasp echoed around the room as you let him go, shrugging his body to the floor and climbing back to your feet, your hand rubbing your jaw where his boot had hit before trying to click it back into place. You turn back to Steve who just looks angry, his body pushing himself back up for another round when you place your boot on his chest, forcing him down.

"What happened to not playing dirty?" your tone cold as you stared down at him, a pair of hands softly meeting your shoulders, causing your body to relax a little at her touch.

"Leave him be," Natasha whispered, your head turning to her in disbelief before she continued, "I'll deal with him later, don't do something you'll regret."

Letting out a deep sigh, you lift your boot off of Steve, ignoring how Natasha sends him out, Clint coming over to you to check your cheek, your hand waving him away as you had experienced worse.

Sam left to follow his friend, offering you an apologetic smile while leaving, trying to ensure Steve would calm down and realise his mistake, Clint deciding that it would be a good time to end the tests, everyone but you and Natasha leaving the training room.

"Fancy one more round?" her tone playful as she moved onto the mats, her smile tugging at her lips as you turned to face her, the cold look in your eyes softening at her.

"I don't know," you mumble, glancing to the mirror cautiously to see your reflection grinning, a low chuckle escaping them which unnerves you. "I don't want to hurt you," you say and that just merely makes Natasha laugh, the sound causing a warmth to take over your chest, easing your nerves.

"I can take a punch," she teases, your body already moving towards the mat, unable to deny her request. Her hand softly pushes your shoulder when you're within distance, you acting as though the push actually affected you, staggering back a little, her smile widening at your calmer demeanour.

"Come on then, show me what you've got," you say jokingly in a shy tone, not quite used to using humour with others yet, the redhead smiling to herself at how comfortable you seemed to be with her, joking freely with her while you were more timid with the rest.

Sparing with Natasha was more fun than you thought, her swiftness and agility, along with her surprising strength, made her more of a challenge than Clint or Steve, the woman somehow always one step ahead. It was more of a dance with her, her moves planned and almost choreographed as she slipped away from your advances, getting in a few hits before you blocked them, faking to swipe with your leg before hooking it around her instead, taking both of you tumbling to the floor.

Her legs wrapped tightly around your waist as her back arched off the training mat, her arm moving to grip yours that was pressed against the top of her chest, pinning her body down to the mat to finally win the point, the fight lasting a lot longer than you thought. Her legs brought you in closer, her lips tugging into a smirk as you both had the other in a trap. She could effortlessly flip the two of you over and pin you to win, but all you had to do was pin her wrists and then you would be fine against the strength in her thighs, the redhead then unable to flip you. She didn't try and flip you as your eyes seemed to flicker between that distant stare and your focused gaze, her brows furrowing as the smile on your lips slowly faded, the pressure you were applying against her slacking.

The darkness's voice painfully rang around in your head, demanding you to do inhumane acts to her while she was in a vulnerable position, gruesome images flickering through your mind at what you could do. You felt a shiver run down your spine as they clawed away at your sanity, trying to take control over you but you fought against it, doing everything in your power to not hurt her.

"Y/n?" Natasha asked softly, your eyes widening in fear a little as your body leaned back, her legs untangling from your body as you staggered back to your feet, away from her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you lie and you know she can see straight through you, your eyes refusing to meet hers, accidentally landing on the mirror. Your breath hitched at the sight within the reflection, her lifeless eyes staring at you as her body was limp on the mat, blood pooling around her as your gaze moved to your hands, the warm, red liquid coating them and staining your clothes. "I'm going to go to my room, if that's alright?" your voice small causing worry to rise within the redhead, her wanting to make sure you were ok but sensing that you needed some alone time.

"Yeah...sure," she hesitantly said, watching how you didn't even look at her before leaving the room abruptly, a strange feeling pulling at her heart. 

[scoonsalicious]

6.2 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.

Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.

Previously On...: 2.5k

A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.

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He was on his way! 

After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.

It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.

And that meant something. 

Right?

Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.

So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.

Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers. 

Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.

“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile  of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”

Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.

She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”

Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.

Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.

“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.

Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.

Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable. 

Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”

Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.

“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.

“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”

“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”

It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:

“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.

Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”

“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”

She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him. 

“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest. 

Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car. 

“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”

Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”

Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”

Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”

Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.

“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”

Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”

“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”

Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared. 

Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed. 

“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing. 

After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.

“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky. 

Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.

“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”

Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.

Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”

Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”

“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.

They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.

Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.

Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.

She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?

“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”

“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…

Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.

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