#Tony: PUT SOME EFFORT IN
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
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!!
#Loki: maybe i'll try it again#Tony: it's always threats or sarcasm with you#Steve: as long as he's not doing anything bad it's fine to leave him alone#Tony: nu uh#Loki: wym 'nu uh'#Tony: PUT SOME EFFORT IN#Loki: i'm going to tell Thor you're yelling at me#Steve: oh no
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
my roman empire is and always will be brian michael bendis writing tony stark
#he writes some gems for sure#(spider-man anyone??)#but i would like to launch him into orbit when he writes tony#like we get it. you despise him and barely pretend otherwise.#CWII was a shoddy effort to mask your hate except you character assainated carol and STILL put tony into a coma at the end#bruh never write him again pls#never write the avengers again#tbh your major event(s) were so shit and anticlimactic it took incursions and a total multiverse destruction to fix your bullshit#(i both love and despise you hickman LOL)#idk back on my comics bullshit after brief stranger things and dragon age diversions and got mad at the bendis era all over again#tony stark#iron man#marvel#marvel comics#earth 616#earth 1610
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Bucky Barnes Cake Conspiracy
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (implied) Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 800
Summary: When Wanda convinces you and Natasha to do the “Hear Me Out” cake trend, you think it’s just harmless fun. That is, until every single one of your picks is a different version of Bucky Barnes, the entire Tower gets involved, and Bucky himself finds out in the most humiliating way possible—via Wanda’s viral video.

It started as a joke.
A harmless, ridiculous joke.
And then it spiraled into something much, much worse.
“I’m just saying,” Wanda said, shoving her phone in your face as the three of you wandered through the grocery store, “we should do it.”
Natasha glanced at the screen. “Oh, the ‘Hear Me Out’ cake trend? That’s dumb.”
“Exactly!” Wanda grinned. “Which makes it perfect for us.”
You furrowed your brows, watching the TikTok she’d pulled up. The trend was simple: buy a plain cake, decorate it with pictures of celebrities or characters you found attractive, and then justify your crush by sticking ‘Hear Me Out’ in the middle.
It was stupid. But also hilarious.
“I’m in,” you said.
Natasha groaned. “Fine. But I’m not helping if this turns into another Tower-wide disaster.”
Wanda hummed, already making a beeline for the bakery aisle. “Oh, it definitely will.”
Back at the Tower, you sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter as Wanda set up her phone. The cake—a plain white-frosted one you’d grabbed from the store—sat in the center of the table, looking all innocent. It had no idea it was about to be used for nonsense.
“Okay,” Wanda said, grinning. “Time to put down our picks.”
Natasha went first. She taped a photo of Keanu Reeves onto a skewer and stuck it into the cake. Classic. No one would question it.
Then Wanda went. Pedro Pascal. Another solid choice.
And then you—
“Y/N,” Natasha deadpanned. “Are you serious?”
You hesitated, mid-skewer placement. “…What?”
Wanda started cackling.
Because instead of picking three different people like a normal person, you had, without realizing it, picked three different versions of Bucky Barnes.
One was a picture of him in his tactical gear, scowling like he was about to murder someone (hot). Another was of him in a hoodie and jeans, looking all soft and domestic (also hot). And the third? The one that really sealed your fate?
It was a close-up of his metal arm.
You winced. “Okay. I see how this looks—”
“This looks like a confession,” Wanda said gleefully, already zooming in on your picks.
“Oh my God,” Natasha muttered, running a hand down her face.
“I panicked!” you hissed. “I wasn’t thinking—I just grabbed the first ones that looked good!”
Wanda was shaking with laughter. “Oh, babe. This isn’t panic. This is obsession.”
You groaned, dropping your head onto the counter. “I hate you both.”
The video went up on Wanda’s account that night.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
By the next morning, it had one million views.
And the Tower was in absolute chaos.
Clint greeted you at breakfast with a slow, knowing grin. “So,” he said, spreading cream cheese onto his bagel, “should we start calling you Mrs. Barnes, or—?”
You threw a banana at his head.
Sam nearly fell off the couch laughing when he saw the video. “You put the metal arm?” he wheezed. “Oh, you’re down bad.”
Steve, who had clearly been dragged into this nonsense against his will, just gave you a long, unimpressed look over his coffee. “You could’ve just told him, you know.”
Tony, of course, had the most Tony reaction possible. “This is the most effort I’ve ever seen someone put into a crush. If I had known Bucky was your type, I would’ve set up an HR department just to make this more scandalous.”
You wanted the Earth to swallow you whole.
But the worst part?
Bucky.
Because by some miracle, he hadn’t seen the video yet.
Which meant you were living on borrowed time.
It happened later that night.
You were curled up on the couch, pretending to read a book but mostly trying to avoid eye contact with the entire human population, when Bucky strolled into the common room.
“Hey, doll.”
Your stomach flipped. “Hey.”
He sat next to you, arms stretched out over the back of the couch, his face unreadable. For a brief, fleeting moment, you thought—maybe he doesn’t know.
And then—
“So,” he said, far too casually. “You like my arm that much, huh?”
Your entire body locked up.
Your soul left your body.
Your mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
“I—what—who—?”
Bucky chuckled. “I saw the video.”
You shut your eyes. “Kill me.”
He hummed, like he was thinking about it. “Nah. ‘Cause then who’s gonna take me on that date you clearly want?”
You choked. “What—”
Bucky turned to face you fully, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. “If you wanted me so bad, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked.”
Your entire brain short-circuited. “I—That’s—You—”
Bucky leaned in, voice low. “Next time, maybe write my number on the cake instead.”
You exhaled sharply, heart hammering. “Are you—Are you flirting with me?”
His grin widened. “You tell me.”
You stared at him. Then at the door. Then back at him.
Finally, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “Fine. But if we go on a date, I’m making Wanda pay for it.”
Bucky laughed, eyes warm. “Deal.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#self insert#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#james barnes x reader#James barnes#james barnes x y/n#james barnes x you#bucky barnes self insert#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#fluff#marvel mcu#mcu fandom#marvel imagines#marvel fanfiction#magical-reid
2K notes
·
View notes
Text

masterlist
summary: a new face enters your life and you're blissfully unaware of the impact it will have on you.
cw: sunshine!eddie x grumpy!reader, like really grumpy, some angst
wc: 6.2k
Muffled voices penetrate through your bedroom door. Standing on the other side, you have your ear pressed to the wood to try and make out the cutting words coming from the other side. It was a fruitless effort, but you tried all the same.
“I just can’t do this anymore, Tony.” Your mother’s voice sounds closer and you dare to crack the door open a bit. Just enough that you can see her walking from the kitchen to the front door from the second floor, a suitcase in her hand. Opening the door further, you peer out into the hallway, taking a few steps until you reach the top of the stairs.
“Please, Rebecca, just talk to me!” Your dad’s voice sounds hoarse, cracking with the weight of his sorrow. “Just tell me what I can do to fix this!”
“There’s nothing to fix. I have to move on, and I can’t do that trapped here.”
“Mom?”
Their heads snap in your direction. You didn’t know what was going on, your 8 year old mind too young to understand what was transpiring in front of you. All you knew was your dad was fully crying, something you’d never seen him do before.
Your mother looks at you, taking in a deep breath before shaking her head. She takes the bag in her hands and suddenly opens the front door. Light floods the house from a car that you don’t recognize parked in your driveway. Everything is still for a moment. Your mom turns to look at you one last time before wordlessly pushing open the storm door and exiting into the night.
“Rebecca!” Your dad yells out, rushing out the door behind her. You make a run down the stairs and stop at the door, watching through the glass as your dad follows your mom around the car. She lifts open the trunk and puts the suitcase inside, your dad frantically pleading with her as she does. But her face is unmoving, solid as stone as she rounds the car again and enters the passenger seat of the unknown vehicle.
Your dad bangs on the door, last ditch effort to make your mom change her mind. Hot tears rolled down your own cheeks as the reality of the situation dawned on you. Your mom was leaving.
And she wasn’t coming back.
Soft sounds of the radio from the office behind you filled your work space with a slight irritation. You wished that your dad would at least change the station to something other than country, even if it was just to break up the monotony. The thought of closing his office door crossed your mind, but you knew he would just protest and open it back up again.
Huffing out a sigh, your eyes scan your list of things to do today. You still needed to call about some parts that were going to be delivered to try and get an estimate on time, but the guy that answered the phone for the company was always a dick to you so you were putting that off. The break room needed to be cleaned, but that was something that you would save for the end of the shift. Going down the list you noticed where it was written that an interview was supposed to have come in at 11. You tilt your head looking at the clock to see that it’s a quarter til 1 and no one has shown up, so decide to scratch that off your list. A real shame too, since you guys were in need of the help.
The ring of the door bell catches your attention. Looking up from your paper, your eyes land on a young man, probably around your age, walking into the lobby. He’s dressed in a black button down shirt and nice slacks that sharply contrasted with the leather and denim jacket combo he was sporting. From what you can tell he has long locks that are currently pulled back into a low ponytail behind his head. His dress shoes clacked against the linoleum floor as he approached you at the desk.
“Welcome to Hawkins Auto Body, how can I help you?” You ask in your best customer service voice.
“Yeah, hi, I’m Eddie. I have an interview at 1 with Tony.” The smell of his cheap cologne permeates your senses and elicits the start of a migraine behind your eye. Looking back down at your list you don’t see another interview for 1 o’clock, just the one that was for 11 that you had crossed out.
“I don’t have an interview for that time. We were supposed to have one at 11 am. Could that have been when you were supposed to show?”
Eddie shifts in his spot as he straightens up. His brows furrow, eyes darting around as if he was looking for the answer to your question. His hands start to pat the pockets of his jacket, reaching inside and pulling out a small ripped piece of paper. “I had 1 written down on the paper.” There’s a slight panic in his voice. “Maybe I made a mistake, I know I’m at the right place.”
“Well, unfortunately the boss is very busy today, so he won’t be able to see you.” You were lying, knowing your dad he was probably reading a muscle car magazine as his desk. But the lack of showing up on time wasn’t something you were going to look past. If he couldn’t even show up for his interview on time how could you expect him to show up to work.
“Really? Are you sure? Maybe I could reschedule at a later time--”
“Hey, what’s going on out here?” You dad’s chipper voice called from behind you, making you cringe.
“Hey, Tony,” you say, preferring to refer to your dad by his name while at work, “I think this guy was your 11 o’clock. He wrote down the time wrong and--”
“Oh, hey! Eddie, right?” Your dad asks, stepping out of his office with a hand out and ready. Eddie takes your dad’s hand in his and shakes it enthusiastically.
“Yes, listen, I’m so sorry I got the times mixed up. If you need to I would totally be able to reschedule for another day.”
“No, you’re fine,” your dad says, irking you. “Come on back and we can talk. Do you have your resume?”
“Oh, I left if out in my car. Let me go grab it.” Eddie says, taking a step back before running out the door. Can’t even bring in his resume? There’s no way this guy would get the job if it was you in charge.
But you knew your dad was a different story. He has a soft spot in him that you gave up a long time ago. But you had to develop a tough exterior at such a young age that you didn’t know anything else.
“You should have turned him away,” you said as you watched Eddie through the glass doors. Your dad huffed a laugh and leaned against the office door frame.
“I knew you’d say something like that,” he says shaking his head.
���Tony, he’s a total chump. Couldn’t be bothered to show up on time. Isn’t even ready for the interview. I bet those aren’t even his clothes that he’s wearing.”
“Yeah, but he’s young and willing to work. Gareth told me that he’s been working on cars since he was 12, and he has reliable transportation.”
You look at the hunk of metal that was this guys van and scoffed. “That hardly looks reliable.”
“But it works,” you dad said, nodding to the ancient van, “And that shows he knows what he’s doing.”
“You’ve already decided to hire him, haven’t you?”
“Well, lets see how this interview goes and I’ll let you know.” You roll your eyes. Knowing how your dad is he probably made the decision when he had the phone interview with him. A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you watch as Eddie bounds back through the door with a papers in his hand.
“Sorry it’s not much,” he says as he hands the papers to your dad. “This will be my first real job, so I don’t have much experience.”
Great, another tick off your list as to why you would turn this guy down. Even if he had some experience with cars, it surely wasn’t enough that your dad wouldn’t still have to train him. At least the shop did well enough that your dad wouldn’t be hurting if he had to pay this guy while he’s being trained.
“Not to worry, let’s go talk in my office,” your dad says, patting Eddie on the arm and leading the way inside. He closes the door behind you, and you can hear the sound of the radio start to lower until it can’t be heard anymore. At least you’d get a little reprieve from that.
The clock ticked by during the interview. Only the sound of the shop could be heard through the glass paneling that separated you from the bay. After about 30 minutes of nothing from your dad, you start to wonder what the hell they could be talking about that’s taking so long. If you had to guess, it was probably car talk.
Or if you were to make a guess based on the details Eddie’s jacket maybe he got your dad on the topic of music, which he could go on about forever. He’s seen just about every band he’s ever wanted to see and then some. You’d been to a fair share of your own concerts because of him, whether it was due to a lack of babysitter or because he wanted to genuinely share the experience with you didn’t matter. It was still some of the best times of your life getting to share those sweaty moments that left your voice fried the next day with him.
A loud, boisterous laugh came from the office and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Your dad must have told one of his infamous jokes that always left him on the brink of pissing himself. You wondered if Eddie was genuinely laughing or was doing it out of pity for your dad and the sake of getting the job. Either way, you shuffled a stack of part invoices and stood up from your desk.
Approaching the door, you didn’t even bother to knock as you turned the nob, pushing the door open on the little laughing fit the two of them were having. “Having fun in here?” you say dryly, unamused by them. Eddie turns to look at you, wiping at his eyes as he lets of the last bit of chuckles left in him. Your dad straightens up in his chair to catch his breath before turning more towards you.
“What’s up, sweetie?” He says through giggles. Calling you by that name in front of a stranger must mean your dad was really in a relaxed mood. He wasn’t always the most professional, but you made it very clear with him from day one that you wanted to be treated just like any other employee at the shop while working together. It kind of irked you that he would say it in front of anyone, but especially this guy, who was looking at you like he already owned the joint.
“Sir, you have some invoices here that need to be approved by the end of the day. Assuming this interview is almost over,” you said looking at Eddie, “I figured I’d drop these off to you so you could get started on them. I’d like to file them by 5.”
Your dad leaned over the desk, his hand outstretched to take them from you. You sighed, stepping more into the small office and leaning around Eddie to hand them over to him. You felt his shoulder against your side and you let out a half-hearted sorry for the intrusion into his space.
“‘S’all good,” he said softly, a small smile on his face that annoyed you.
“I’ll get to these right away,” your dad said, motioning the papers towards you. You nodded and turned to leave the room.
“Should I close the door?” You ask, hand on the knob.
“No, no, I think Eddie and I are just about done here. I’ve kept him with me for far too long,” your father says as he goes to stand. Eddie rises from his seat as well, extending his hand out for your dad to take.
“Nonsense,” Eddie says as your dad shakes his hand, “Was a pleasure talking to ya. Hopefully we can shoot the shit again some time?”
“Maybe we can get a few words in on Monday if that works for you?”
“Wait, really?” Eddie all but jumps for joy at your dad’s offer. Of course.
“If everything we talked about today sounded good for you, I’d love to see ya first thing Monday morning.”
“Oh my god, yes, sir. Thank you so much. Seriously, I’ll be the best worker you’ve ever had.”
You huffed a laugh at that, deciding this was the best time to make your exit, lest you get sick on the floor from all the sugary excitement. Turning on your heel, you made your way back to your desk and plopped down in your rolly chair. Your dad and Eddie followed behind you not long after, still chatting about something you had no interest in tuning into.
Eddie rounds the front of your desk and taps his hand lightly on the marble counter top just above you. You look up at him with a blank stare, almost blinding you with the pure sunshine rays of excitement that were beaming off of him.
“See ya on Monday, coworker,” he said with a snap that turned into a finger gun. You didn’t respond, simply staring at him hoping he would get the hint to leave. He pounds his fist against the countertop a couple times for good measure before turning to face the door. Watching him as he left, you noticed for the first time that the patch on the back of his jacket was one from Dio’s Last in Line album. You gave a small hmpf. At least he had good taste in music.
SPACE
“Still sleepy there, kiddo?” Your dad says as he pulls into the shop. It was barely dawn as the two of you rolled into the parking lot, the coffee in your hand barely doing much to keep you alert at these early hours. You wished you could call yourself a morning person with how often you woke up at 5:30 am to get ready for the day. But Monday’s were always hard on you after getting to sleep in on the weekend.
“What else is new?” You say, punctuated by another yawn that hit you hard enough it gave you shivers down your body. Your dad let out a laugh as he shifted the car into park, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lighting one up. You followed suit, grabbing one from your own pack and stealing his lighter to spark it up. The smooth menthol wasn’t enough to wake you, but it kept your mouth busy enough that you wouldn’t fall asleep in the passenger seat.
The two of you sat in a sweet silence for the duration of your smoke, watching the sun rise from the rear view mirror. The only sounds to be heard was the low hum of the local morning talk show that played on the car’s radio.
That was until a loud booming sound could be heard in the distance. A boom that started to grow louder with each passing second. The two of you looked at each other as if asking the same question to one another before turning around and looking out the back window. You couldn’t see where it was coming from at first, until a small set of headlights started to show from down the road, approaching at a speed way faster than you knew this streets limit was. As it came into view, you whispered a barely audible “no” as the loud vehicle turned into the parking lot, now illuminated by the morning sun.
It was Eddie and his shitty van.
You thought surely the music would turn down once he made his way into the parking lot, but the loud sounds of what you could now make out as Metallica due to the sheer volume of the music coming from his van were persistent.
“What the fuck?” You say, looking over to your dad, who had a glint in his eye that you didn’t like. “Dad, no, he’s going to wake up the whole neighborhood.” You say sternly. But your dad doesn’t respond verbally. Instead he undoes his seat belt and hops out of the car, leaving it on for you to sit in so you don’t have to endure the harsh December cold.
You watch as he walks over to the van and knocks on the window and instantly hear the volume of the van drop in decibels as the window comes down. A plume of smoke comes barreling out and you watch as Eddie’s hand reaches out to swat the smoke away from your dad’s face. You take another hit of your cigarette as your dad talks to Eddie from his window.
After a few moments, you watch as your dad rounds the van, it rocking slightly once he gets to the other side. Did your dad just get in this guys van? Surely not.
Or surely yes, because as the familiar cars of your other workers began to pull into the lot, you didn’t see your dad come from the other side of the van. Irritation that shouldn’t be had on such an early Monday morning started to bubble in you, and if it weren’t so cold you would have gotten out and asked your dad what the hell he was doing a long time ago.
Checking the dash, you see it’s already opening time, so you cut the engine and lock the car, braving the cold as you walk past the van and to the door. The guys are already waiting for you as you approach the door, huddled around each other as they watch you unlock the door.
“Morning, ma’am,” Bob, your most senior member, says as he pushes past you to get inside. The others greet you as well as they make make their way in. As they file inside, the sound of car doors closing gets your attention. You look to see your dad and Eddie walking towards you, hands in their pockets to keep them warm from the cold.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” you say as they approach. Not waiting for them as you walk inside, letting the door close behind you, you make your way to the light switches and begin flicking them on. The ones in the bay’s are already on as the guys get set up for the day, a couple cars already loaded up to be worked on first thing this morning.
Eddie and your dad eventually came in through the door, both of them laughing and having a grand old time.
“Hey, do you mind showing Eddie where the time clock is?” Your dad asks as he fishes his keys from his jacket pocket to unlock his office.
“Can’t you show him? He’s already your best friend, apparently?”
“I have a call I need to get on with an important client. Just go ahead and show him around the shop for me, please?” He gives you those big, puppy dog eyes of his that honestly don’t get to you at this point anymore. But for the sake of him begging, you sigh and put your hands on your hips.
“Fine,” you say with a shrug. You motion for Eddie to follow you. “Come on, back this way.”
Leaving your desk, you walk around the hallway corner and to the break room. Pushing the door open, you prop it open with the metal wedge and walk inside. Flipping the lights on, you instantly walk to the coffee pot and push the button to get it warmed up. You turn to see Eddie waiting patiently for you by the doorway, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.
“Over here is the time clock,” you say, walking over to where the time punches for the week are sitting on the wall. “They’re in alphabetical order, so make sure you grab yours and not somebody else’s.” You scan the tickets and find the new name card you added on Friday, pulling it from the slot. “Just stick it in here and it’ll mark when you clocked in. If you ever have an issue with it, make sure you come to me right away so that we can get it fixed.”
Eddie walks over and plucks the card from your fingers, placing it into the slot and waiting for the click. Once it does, he pulls it out and places the card back into the slot you pulled it from. “Seems easy enough,” he says, looking at you with that smile still plastered on his face. It irked you to no end.
“Great, make sure to do that when you get here every day. It’s hard to pay you without it.”
Eddie starts to laugh, but you’re really not sure what about. Was it something you said? Was he making fun of you?
“What?” You say in a serious tone. But Eddie just waves his hands, his bangs flying as he shakes his head.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he says. You blink at him, deciding it wasn’t worth your time to pry for answers you didn’t really care to know. Gesturing your hands around you, you let him know that you are in fact in the break room. Eddie nods, looking around, his eyes landing on the coffee pot.
“The coffee is free, just make sure if you take the last of it to turn it off.”
“Awesome, I’ll definitely be needing that.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
“Not really. My uncle made me coffee this morning. I don’t really drink it much.”
“I’ll show you,” you say, walking over to the machine. Grabbing all the things you need, you walk him through the process of filling up the back with water, how to put the grounds in the filter, and which button to press to start it.
“This seems more complicated than the time clock,” he says with a laugh.
You scoff, “Once you do it a few times you’ll get it. Or you can wait until someone else starts it. There’s usually a pot back here ready within the first half hour that we’re here.” Eddie’s head bounces with a nod. Still smiling. “Well, lets move on to the rest of the building,” you say as you walk past him.
As you exit the break room, you look both ways trying to decide where to go next. You suppose you can work from the back to the front, that way you can drop him off with Bob or Terry when you’re done. You break to the right, Eddie hot on your heels as you walk. “Those are the restrooms,” you say as you pass the two sets of doors with a water fountain in between them. “Make sure you clean up after yourself if you shit, because I sure as hell am not doing it.”
That gets a laugh out of Eddie. “Aye, aye, captain,” he says with a salute.
“Back here is the stock room.” You turn the knob and open the door to the large storage room that resided in the back of the building. It was stocked to the brim with supplies like oil, parts, and other necessities that the shop kept on hand. Eddie looked around with wide eyes as he took everything in. “You’ll learn where everything is as time goes by. If you notice something is low in stock, come tell me as soon as possible so I can order more.”
“Okay, can do,” Eddie nods.
“Back out this way,” you say, walking over to another door that enters into the bay, “is the main work area. Make sure this door is locked at the end of the day.” As you walk out to the bay, you stop at a side door to the right. “This is a door to go outside. You can smoke out there, eat lunch, whatever really. Just keep it propped open when you’re out there so you don’t lock yourself out and have to come around the front. The boss tries to keep as much grease out of the lobby as possible.” You look down at his shoes and notice he’s wearing a pair of white reeboks. “Did you bring other shoes?”
“No, are these not allowed?” Eddie asks, his smile finally turning into a frown.
“It’s not that they’re not allowed, but they’re going to go from white to black real quick if you’re not careful.”
“Shit, I didn’t think about that,” Eddie said, looking down at his shoes.
“Ask around, I’m sure the guys could give you a recommendation where to get some good boots.”
Eddie looks up at you and, once again, smiles. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”
“Whatever,” you say, pressing forward. You show him around the bay, where the tools are, and where everyone’s lockers are to keep their things while they work. Eddie follows you wordlessly, just a step behind you the whole time. When he almost bumps into you as you stop, you have to turn to face him, putting hands on his arms and extending yours.
“See this? Distance. Keep yours.”
“Sorry,” he says, looking at your hands on his arms. You drop them quickly and turn back around, scanning the bay for Bob, who was bent over a cars engine.
“Bob!” You call, getting the older man’s attention. He straightens up and looks your way, giving a slight wave.
“Bob, this is Eddie, our new guy.”
“Nice to meetcha, kiddo.” The corners of Bobs eyes wrinkle when he smiles, extending a greasy hand out to Eddie, one that he takes and shakes enthusiastically.
“Likewise, sir,” Eddie says, nodding to the man.
“Do you care to babysit for a while? Dad says he knows a lot about cars but might need some help for a few weeks.”
“Sure thing,” Bob says like you knew he would. Bob was a talker, enjoyed the company of others. You’d been caught up in his stories on more than one occasion, but you’d always tried to be polite with him since he was such a hard worker. “Let’s see what you can tell me about this gal right here.” Bob wraps an arm around Eddie and ushers him towards the car he’s working on.
Letting out a sigh of relief, free from your responsibility to the new guy, you make your way out of the bay and back into the front lobby to your desk. You scold yourself for not turning your computer on before giving Eddie the grand tour so that it could’ve booted up. Giving it time to start, you go through the days checklist that you left yourself over the weekend and get to work.
Lunch time couldn’t roll around fast enough. You’d barely made it half way through your list for the day, not expecting it to take you so long to get everything done. Too many phone calls with dick head old men and wives of clients who couldn’t tell you what a fender was if it hit them in the head. The main website you use to order parts was down for half the morning, meaning there would be at least a half days delay on everything that was needed to work on the cars already in the shop.
And then there was the young mother who broke down with her baby that talked your ear off for the last hour while you tried desperately to get a hold of her husband for her. At least the baby was cute; babies being your bad mood kryptonite. She even let you hold her, which would have been fine if you hadn’t caught a particular curly headed nuisance staring at you from the bay as you held them. But you just brushed it off, not giving that loser an ounce of your attention.
Plopping back down in your chair, you felt like all your energy had been zapped and it was barely past 11 am. Not a moment later your father pokes his head around the corner of his office.
“Hey, let’s order pizza,” he says with a wide grin. Something must have gone well with a contractor given his good mood.
“What’s the occasion?” You ask, pulling out the paper for Surfer Boy’s Pizza from your desk drawer.
“I figured we’d treat the new guy,” he says, taking the paper from your grasp to look it over.
You groan, rolling your eyes. “I guess I’m asking everyone what they want?”
“You’re my girl,” he says, handing the paper back to you. You take it, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen before heading to the bay. The smell of fresh oil hits your nose, but it’s not something that bothers you anymore after working here for a few years now. You make your way around to the guys and get everyone’s orders. Thankfully everyone was being easy, just wanting cheese or pepperoni.
You made your way over to where Bob and Eddie were working on the same car that bob was looking at earlier, but Eddie was no where to be seen. Bob was hunched over by the front, looking down at the ground where you saw a pair of white shoes sticking out from under the car.
“Hey, Bob,” you say, grabbing the man’s attention.
“Oh, hey, darlin’. What’s up?”
“We’re getting pizza. You good with cheese and pepperoni?”
“Oh boy, that sounds good to me,” he says with a nod. He taps his foot against the white pair of sneakers and Eddie’s body comes rolling out from under the car, now clad in an oversized workers uniform.
“Where’d you find that?” You ask, pointing at Eddie.
“This is one of my spares from before I lost all that weight. I figured he could use it until his comes in.”
“Oh, yeah, that should be sometime this week. Make sure you wash that one and give it back to Bob when you’re done with it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie says with a nod.
“Now, we’re getting pizza. Are you okay with cheese and pepperoni?”
“Wow, really? Yeah that would be great. I…forgot my lunch, so I could definitely use it.”
“Cool, well you guys were my last stop so I’ll go ahead and order it. Should be here in an hour or so.”
“Perfect,” Eddie says, giving you a thumbs up. You don’t respond, turning on your heel and walking back through the bay to the lobby.
“Okay, I got everybody’s orders,” you say as you walk into your father’s office. He looks up from his paperwork and smiles, reaching out to you. “You don’t want me to call?” You ask, handing the papers to him.
“No, I’m gonna pay for it myself, so I’ll order it.” He looks over the paper then speaks, “Do you know what Eddie asked for?”
“He didn’t say anything specific. Just said he was grateful to have it.” Your father nods, setting the papers down on his desk and picking up the phone. It struck you as odd that he was so interested in this new guy, but not enough to care to ask him about it. Maybe Eddie said something to him in their interview that struck something in your dad. He was already under a car on day one, so maybe you weren’t giving him enough credit.
SPACE
Lunch arrived and you paged on the overhead for everyone to come and eat. You set the pizza’s on the break room counter with the plates and two liters of pop. Your dad really splurged today, ordering way more food and drinks than what would be needed for the small shop. A few minutes later the guys began to roll into the break room, conversation flowing between them as they made their way to the pizza boxes.
You waited for everyone to get their food before grabbing some for yourself. Taking a few slices, you headed towards the door to go back to your desk before someone called your name.
“You’re not eating with us?” Eddie said, standing behind you with a plate full.
“I have work to do,” you said simply.
“She doesn’t take breaks,” Tom calls from across the break room.
“Yeah her dad has her slaving over that fancy computer all day,” Jerry adds, making the room erupt in laughter.
“Your dad?” Eddie asks looking at your curiously.
You sigh, not really wanting to tell the new guy that the boss is your dad on day one. “Yeah, Tony is my dad,” you say, flatly. Eddie’s head bobs, a smile spreading on his face.
“That makes sense. I thought it was weird you guys came together today. I thought maybe you were dating or something.”
The guys start laughing again and you cringe at Eddie’s words.
“What’s so funny?” You snap, and the laughter starts to die down.
“You dating is what’s funny,” Bob says taking a bite of his pizza.
“Why’s that funny?” Eddie asks.
“This girl hates love,” Bob says, gesturing towards you and you roll your eyes. It wasn’t that you hated love, you just didn’t believe in it. There was a time in your life that you might have thought it was real, but after the things you’ve been through, you’d been convinced that love was all just a big scam. Something made up to sell jewelry and heart shaped boxed of chocolates.
“What? Really?”
“I’m just not into it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I actually have important things to do.” And with that, you turn on your heel, leaving Eddie in the dust as you make your way back to your desk.
The end of the day wrapped up when the clock struck 6 pm. The garage doors to the bay closed for the night and you were cleaning up your desk, leaving a note to remember to call a potential client back first thing in the morning. Your dad stepped out of his office, closing the door behind him with the turn of a key as he locked it shut for the night.
“Should I grab the rest of the pizza’s or are we leaving them for tomorrow?” You ask, grabbing your jacket and throwing it on.
“Leave them,” your dad says, tossing you his keys. You looked at him confused. “Go ahead and start the car, I’ll lock up.”
“Okaaaay,” you say shoving the keys in your pocket and rounding the front desk. You pushed the door open and felt the cold December breeze hitting the skin of your cheeks once again. You beelined it for the car and started it up, cranking the heat up in a futile attempt to make the warm air come out faster. Rolling the window down, you lit up a smoke and watched as the guys made their way to their cars.
You noticed your dad didn’t come out with everyone else and that made you curious. Normally if he wanted to stay over he wouldn’t have you go and start the car. But you also noticed Eddie’s car was still in the lot as well.
A few minutes later, the front door finally opened and your dad and Eddie walked out of the shop. You squinted your eyes, trying to make sure what you were seeing was correct. Eddie was standing with two boxes of pizza in his hands as your dad locked the door. What the hell? You thought he was leaving the pizzas for tomorrow. You waited to see if your dad took the pizza boxes back, but as Eddie diverged from your dad’s side to get in his van, you noticed he still had the pizza boxes in his hands.
“Alright, let’s go,” you dad says as he slides in his seat, bringing his hands to the air vents to warm them up.
“What was that?” You ask, looking at him incredulously.
“What was what?” He says with a laugh, giving you a look back.
“You gave him those pizzas.”
“It’s his first day! I wanted him to feel welcomed with us. Don’t worry about it.”
“Are you going to take him to a steak dinner next?” You say as you buckle yourself in.
“It’s not like that,” you dad assures you before buckling himself in.
“Whatever.”
thank you for reading!
tags:
@meetmeatyourworst @hazydespair @gloomweed @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @prestinalove @rowynbriarsalix
@daveythorntonslocker @losingmygrasponreality @princesssunderworld @eddiesguitarskills @clown420cunt
@barnesandsteven @yujyujj @person-005 @definitionwanderlust @hsdcmmjune @micheledawn1975 @emxxblog @l3xi3luv
@browneyes-8288 @djodirt @munsonsfairy @coolkidzen @appl3ogr @sammybrrr @awkward00noodle @callhermyname @american-idiot-jpg
if you'd like to be added or removed please let me know!
#lesservillain#eddie munson#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#sunshine!eddie munson#sunshine!eddie munson x grumpy!reader#sunshine!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson st#eddie munson fic#eddie munson st4
654 notes
·
View notes
Text
How They Fall Asleep With You- Avengers Domestic/Retirement AUs
Just sleep, you perverts, lol. I’ll happily update with any character y’all want upon request (while I use MCU gifs, I’m happy to also include non MCU Marvel characters). This is pure wish fulfillment for me; not sharing a bed with my favorite characters, having a normal and functional sleep schedule.
Steve Rogers: Regardless of when you typically sleep, Steve will be ready and in bed by 9 o’clock sharp. If you’re a later sleeper he’ll stay up reading the news until you’re ready to head to bed, no matter how late. He prefers to stay on his back, with his hands folded on his stomach.
It takes you a bit to realize this, but his adaptability isn’t just because he loves you; Steve doesn’t actually sleep more than a few hours a night. He stays awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, just thinking. He tells you not to worry about it, because his enhanced body doesn’t actually doesn’t need all that much sleep, but you know it’s a half truth. So you do what you can to help rest a little easier, cuddling, back rubs, warm milk, whatever helps. He really does appreciate the effort you put in to make him feel loved and, frankly, to feel human again.
Also sorry for those hoping to see our dear Captain in his boxers but he wears long underwear to bed, force of habit, you don’t want to catch your death of cold whilst sleeping after all!
Bucky Barnes: You know that feeling you get when you oversleep and then you absolutely cannot fall asleep again the next night, like your sleep bar is overfull? Yeah that’s Bucky all the time. So he just doesn’t sleep with you, he helps you get ready for bed, kisses you good night, and then leaves the bedroom to do… whatever it is he does at night (he never leaves the house, though, he’s quite a homebody). If you’re a light sleeper you’re often woken up by sounds of video games, or talking, or the smell of cooking. One time you even woke up to a fire alarm because he was making grilled cheese at 3 in the morning.
When Bucky does finally sleep, he’ll crash out wherever he’s sitting, so you’ve found him snoozing on the couch, on the stairs, face first in a bowl of cereal, you name it. You usually give him a kiss, gently slip a pillow under his head, and let him get the his well deserved rest. He doesn’t have any pajamas, just some comfy boxers and ratty old t-shirts.
Natasha Romanov: You thought it was kismet how well your sleep schedules matched. You went to bed at the same time every night and woke up at the same time every morning. Just another reason why you two were such a great couple.
Until the first time you woke up in the middle of the night and realized Natasha was gone, entirely gone, not only from the bed but from the house. That’s when you found out that, actually, Natasha doesn’t have a normal sleep cycle. No don’t get me wrong, unlike our super soldier boys she does get her 8 hours, but she has a polyphasic sleep cycle, its part of her red room training. She only sleeps for 15 minutes at a time at most split intermittently throughout the day. So no, she wasn’t lying when she said she goes to sleep and wakes up with you, she just left out the parts in between. When she’s not in bed with you, she goes jogging, runs errands or hangs out with her other nocturnal friend Bucky Barnes.
Nat is the second most likely Avenger to wear lingerie to bed, silky lacy clingy slips are her go to. She knows how much you love to see her in it, she gets a kick out of watching you flush as she slips under the covers with you. But it absolutely melts her heart that you find her just as beautiful with messy hair and an oversized tee, that you love every aspect of her, not just the polished mask she’s so used to wearing.
Tony Stark: He is very particular about his bedroom specifications (projecting my Sensory Processing Disorder let’s goooooo). The temperature has to be precisely room temp, the AC humming just so, the sheets a the sheets a 45% cotton 55% rayon blend, and the night light at 3260K (within a 10K range), or else he cannot sleep a wink. And even then his sleep schedule is a complete disaster because he when he’s diving into a project he lacks the self control to go to stop his work and go to bed (mood). He never wakes up at the same time either, sometimes he’s bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5:30 AM, sometimes he’s snoozing until noon.
He talks in his sleep, lol can’t shut up even when unconscious, his muttering range from sweet (“…hey…love you so much, you know? love you…”) to sad (“…no no please just a little more time… I can’t save them…”) to just random (“the pickle is covered in sparkles! inedible, you go to space jail”).
He’s not entirely selfish though, he shares his toys. Has kitted out your bedroom to be state of the art, you both have an adjustable mattress, an automated light system, even a dumbwaiter for breakfast in bed. Anything you need, gorgeous, just say the word.
Absolutely wears lingerie to bed, the hottest and most impractical he can find. If the paparazzi plan on invading his privacy again, he’s promised to give them a show they’ll never forget.
Clint Barton: Clint’s sleep has also been majorly affected by his career, but unlike his partner Nat he still sleeps a normal 8 hours at a time. Clint has cultivated the ability to fall asleep anywhere he needs to. He often dozes on the couch next to you while watching tv. As long as he can feel you next to him, as long as he knows you’re safe, he feels safe too.
When Clint takes off his hearing aid, he’s a very heavy sleeper, almost impossible to wake up. He’s also a very still sleeper, hardly ever moves around, he does snore however. If that bothers you, feel free to flip him to his side, I promise it won’t disturb his beauty sleep at all. He does have pyjama set, unlike some of his teammates he’s a civilized man.
Thor Odinson: Has the classic rich kid sleep schedule; stays up late, sleeps in until brunch. If you’re the sort who prefers an early bedtime, he’ll do his best to not disturb you when he crawls into bed; although, if you’re a light sleeper, you’ll probably notice his clumsy attempts at stealth.
Sleeping in the same bed as Thor is definitely a mix of pros and cons. The cons: he snores like thunder and he’s a major space hog. The pros: he sleeps entirely nude. He’s also a cuddler and surprisingly soft for such a muscular man. He likes to slip his arm under your head to support it and pull you close while you sleep (although if you’re the sort that prefers their space while sleeping, YMMV on whether this is a perk or not). Also, if you have insomnia of any kind, he’ll stay up as late as you need helping you fall asleep, whispering Asgardian folktales, or even making it rain just so for the perfect white noise.
Bruce Banner: Bruce has transformed during nightmares before, so he’s honestly somewhat scared of sleeping in the same bed as you, the last thing he wants is to hurt you. If you insist, he’ll try though (“alright, it’s your funeral”). So far, things have been going well; the worst that’s happened is you’ve been accidentally pushed out of bed once or twice, or woken up by oversized grumbling, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying that one day Hulk will hit you in his sleep (accidentally, of course, Hulk is as soft for you as Banner is). Always puts up a pillow wall when he sleeps. Sometimes suffers from insomnia, takes a lot of melatonin gummies. If you have insomnia, he’ll give you the driest densest scientific literature he can find (well, dry to you, to him its fascinating, but he accepts your lack of interest in advances in the modeling of molecular orbital theory for actinides using machine learning programs or whatever dishwater dull nuclear physics he’s reading about this week). Sleeps with nothing on but a pair of super stretchy pants in case of Hulk emergency. Almost always sleeps in the fetal position.
Sam Wilson: Once again winning the Most Adult award, Sam works hard to make sure he has a consistent sleep schedule because he understands how important it is. He’s usually in bed by 8:30-9 and spends an hour or so reading with a nightlight and maybe a cup of tea until he feels sleepy. He’s not especially picky about his sleeping spaces, with one exception; he expects you to respect the sanctity of quiet time. That means no talking, no running around, no tv, maybe some music if he’s feeing crazy. Cuddling is always welcome, of course, as long as he can still read with you curled up in his arms. If you don’t behave he’s happy to banish you to the foldout couch. It’s nothing personal but it’s important to him that he has a chance to decompress at the end of the day and he knows how to set good boundaries.
Sam wakes up pretty early, around 6, so he can get a morning jog in and get ready for his day. He’ll always cook for you in the morning and he’ll even make you breakfast in bed if he has the time. Sam wears pajama pants but typically goes shirtless at night. Likes to sleep on his side, facing you, so you’ll be the first thing he sees when he wakes up in the morning.
Loki: Not the easiest person to sleep with. He’s very picky, not in specific details like Tony, more that he expects a certain standard of luxury, a bedroom fancy enough for a prince. He’s also a very selfish bedmate, since he’s not used to sharing his space. He’s a pillow hog and blanket thief and also like, ice cold so if you run hot then that’s great for you but if not, good luck lol). Still, he does like sleeping with you, he’s a clingy sort, so maybe take the L and indulge him once in a while. Goes to bed as late as he pleases and considers waking up before 10 to be “early” in classic royal fashion.
Has a giant sized plushie he squeezes while sleeping (Ah yes. You, your boyfriend, and his 4 foot tall Jeff the Landshark). Wears the most dramatic slinky old timey night robe ever, it has the tendency to start slipping off ;).
Frank Castle: Frank had been nocturnal for a long time. He’d get restless sleep in the day, in the back of his van or in a safe house, usually in a sleeping bag and a pile of laundry, and of course without changing or brushing his teeth.
Since moving in with you, he’s tried to clean up his act. He gets in bed and wakes up around the same time as you (assuming you have a somewhat regular sleep schedule, if not he’s in at 10ish and up at 6:30ish), he has pajamas you bought together and always takes a shower right before bed, he’s slowly being re-domesticated. Frank always makes the bed after you’ve both woken up, force of habit from his military training. His alarm clock is set at the lowest level but he still jumps out of bed like somebody’s crashed a cymbal next to his ear, his vigilante past has left him pretty high strung. He’s also plagued by nightmares, of the death of his family, of the horrors he’s seen, of you suffering the same fate. He twists around and whimpers in his sleep, the best way to stop them is to cuddle, nothing helps him sleep like being the big spoon, feeling you safely tucked inside his arms.
#Imagines#x reader#marvel x reader#marvel imagines#marvel x reader headcanons#marvel domestic au#MCU x reader#avengers x reader#Steve rogers x reader#Bucky Barnes x reader#Natasha Romanov x Reader#Tony stark x reader#Thor odinson x reader#Bruce banner x reader#Sam Wilson x reader#Loki x reader#Frank Castle x reader
372 notes
·
View notes
Text
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!
#winterarmyyfics#welcome home soldat au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#winter soldier × reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier!bucky#bucky fluff
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
Stark Contrast 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, lies, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: your online friend isn't who he claims to be.
Characters: Tony Stark
Sister series to Captain's Orders
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
It's been a long day. Every day seems longer than the last. All that overtime is adding up. It's needling right at the base of your neck.
Unclench your jaw. You keep forgetting. The pressure makes your head hurt. You rub your eye socket and yawn as you drag your feet down the dark pavement.
You approach your building and look at the heel of your hand, mascara smeared on your skin, no doubt across your face too. Oh well, you're home. Not necessarily the perfect haven but a place to be alone.
You bob in the elevator to the music in your headphones. You step off and keep your head down in a lazy shuffle down the hallway. You unlock your door and spin inside, letting the song play out as you hang your jacket and purse. You kick of your sneakers and drift into the kitchen, mindlessly searching for something quick to eat.
You detach your headphones from your phone and take them off. You let the music drone as you mull over the effort to cook a box of processed mac and cheese. You pause the music and scroll through your feed. Nothing interesting. You let a live feed play. You never pay much attention to the new but it's good white noise.
You pull down your notification bar. Oh shoot. You forgot to answer the last message.
You'd been chatting with Eddie during your lunch but had to get back to the grind. Those bougie middle-aged women won't find those overpriced candles themselves. Then they'll complain that the Martha Stewart limited edition is sold out. Oh, to have such simple problems.
You blink as the video plays in a little box floating over the chat.
'Sorry. Got caught up at work. Just seeing this now. Hope you have a good night.' You send the message and pull the video into fullscreen.
He doesn't always answer at night. Or sometimes for days. He's pretty busy. An engineer or something. You met on some discord when Elden Ring dropped.
You narrow your eyes at the stream. You swear every time you see a screen, Tony Stark is on it. There he is now, giving a presser to a fawning crowd of reporters.
He claps his hand to his chest pocket and gives a subtle look down as he slides out his phone. He drops it back in and shrugs at his adoring audience, "I'm a busy guy, what can I say?"
They laugh, unbothered by his distraction. You turn back to your search for an easy meal. Oh, you still have that frozen pizza. This late, it'll make your chest burn in the morning but you don't care.
You preheat the oven and go to your phone, agitated by the murmur of the reporters and their softball questions. You don't have a problem with the man or his mighty band of Avengers, hey, they do their best. It's this whole celebrity shell around them. The sort that has half the population is a dysfunctional parasocial relationship.
You switch to a reality show that pits home bakers against each other. It's a bad choice. It stokes your already twisting hunger and sparks your sweet tooth. You never shy away from a treat. Good thing you don't have any.
The stove beeps as the subtle smell of smoke rises. You figure it's not that bad if the alarm isn't going. You put the pizza in and swipe up your phone. You pace around and check your news feed. There's a new Amiibo out. Nope, you will not get suckered into another money grab. You're save. Not for anything special, just rent. Another price hike. The next one might put you out.
You pizza finishes and your phone buzzes. You cut it into uneven slices and take a few on a paper towel. You flop onto the couch and read Eddie's response.
'I get it. Probably out on a date with a hot guy. Or lady. No judgment.'
You shake your head. He's such and idiot sometimes. 'Nah. You're awake?'
'You know I don't sleep.'
You wouldn't guess it by his erratic responses. If anything, you'd only assume he doesn't keep a routine. His bouts of activity are unpredictable.
'Let's not talk about work.' He replies before you can. The next message is a mood. 'I'm over it.'
'Sure. What do we talk about? You gonna help me co-op Starscourge Radahn? You never log on anymore.'
Your phone quakes as an audio call comes in. You nearly drop it as you opt to save the slice of pizza in your other hand first. You finally hit answer with your greasy thumb.
"Fair warning, I'm eating. I'm flipping starving," you say.
"You sound ravenous," Eddie says. "So, what's for... a very late dinner?"
"Pizza. Spinach and mozzarella."
"Order in?"
"Frozen," you mutter.
"Gross," he remarks. He's a bit of a snob. "You coulda hit me up. I'd send you some money for real food. I'm sure you've got a few shwarma places around that hellhole."
"Har har. If I'm so poor, why do you talk to me?"
"Good question. Can I think about it?" He snickers as you roll your eyes. "Look, sweetheart, I'm sorry about the video game--"
"You know, you sound like my dad."
"I do?" He nearly yelps.
"Sweetheart this. Video games. You talk like you were born in the 60s."
"I heard the 60s were pretty hip," he laughs.
"Hip? Oh you're definitely a catfish," you tease.
"How do I know you're not some desperate housewife using me for kicks?" He accuses.
"I sent you pics," you say.
"I've sent mine too," he retorts. "Alright, only solution here is to admit we're both catfish. You want me to order you good food and I want... uh, well, you're a good distraction."
"A good distraction? That's it?" You huff. "Thanks, Ed."
"I'm playing. You know I like you. I was just on my way to meet this tall blonde and I called you instead."
"Sure you were," you hiss. "You know, I had too long a day for you to be so annoying."
He cackles. You smile, just a bit. He really can be a butt. You don't know why you talk to him.
"How's the pizza? You want me to order you some real stuff yet?"
"Eddie," you sigh. It's a nice offer but you're not stupid. You don't give people on the internet your address. "That's too much."
"It's really not," he insists.
"To me it is." You drop the pizza and paper towel on the lone TV table by your ratty sofa. "You know, I get it, you're trying to be nice, but... you just kinda make me feel..."
"What? I make you feel... some sort of way, so that's good, right?"
"Ugh, don't. I get it, alright? I'm poor. Trash," you cross your arms and sit back. "Go and meet the tall blonde and have your fancy five star dinner."
He's quiet, "I was only messing with you."
"Well, maybe you should stop," you say as you sit forward and talk directly into your phone. "You obviously don't have the time for me. And a lot more important friends so--"
"Hey, come on, it's a joke--"
You hit end and toss your phone to the other end of the couch. You already know you overreacted. Shoot. Ugh.
It's just that stupid woman today, yelling at you over a bunny ornament, like the fact that is was put on the wrong shelf is your fault. You organise the shelves constantly but people don't care. They don't read either.
Your phone jitters again. You ignore and get up. You pack away the leftover pizza and put it in the fridge. That's your dinner for tomorrow, if not the next day.
God, why does he have to rub his money in your face? His super fun life. He went to Tokyo last week on a work trip.
You're a bitch. Insecure at that. It's probably best you cut free now. You wouldn't want to project all that on him. Besides, it's starting to feel like he only talks to you to make himself feel better. He shouldn't need that much help.
❤️
It's your own fault. You know it. Your worst and best trait is your crippling self-awareness. You know what you are, how you are, but it doesn't make it better.
You feel bad. You always do. Even if you're right, you feel rotten. You just don't like being like that. And what did Eddie do but joke around?
Did he have to keep offering to pay for you? Or mention that tall blonde?
Sigh. Just focus. You go back to putting the throw pillows back into the display basket. You watched a pair of kids toss them around for the last hour.
Life isn't easy and you should stop expecting it to be. That's your problem. You can't settle for what you have.
Julie, your manager comes by as you set the last of the pillows on those nearly overflowing the basket. You smile. She scowls.
"Your name tag's upside down," she points to your chest.
You look down. Oh jeez. You flip it around.
"Dress code infraction. Next time, I'll write you up." She warns.
"Sorry," you frown.
"There's customers. Smile."
As if one cue, the automatic doors open. You busy yourself with the next display, as if the napkin rings are that interesting. Julie snaps her fingers at Casey. He sniffs and tries to act like he didn't smoke up before he punched in.
"You're the greeter. Mind doing some greeting," she hisses.
"Oh, yeah," he stands and struts away from the lawn chair display, "hey, dude, like, hi. Welcome to The Home Hub. Anything I can help you-- woah, no way."
He starts laughing. You peek over your shoulder as Julie sighs. Casey coughs and clears his throat, "bro, am I high or is this dude Iron Man?"
You turn and narrow your eyes at the man. Goatee, sunglasses, a nice suit. He bears a striking resemblance to the man behind the podium at he presser the night before. You tilt your head. That's impossible.
"Casey, go to the warehouse and start downstocking," Julie sneers as she stomps forward. "I'm so sorry, sir. We-- Oh, oh. Oh my god, it is him."
She swoons and fans herself. Your eyes go wide as you give a goof smile. She's ridiculous.
"Hey, sweetheart," he purrs at her. "I'm looking for uh, a..." he takes off his sunglasses and glances around, "a bath mat."
"Bath mat? Uh. Oh, er..."
"You," he points in your direction. You turn to look for someone else behind you. "Show me."
You face him and Julie gives you a crazed sneer. You step away from the napkin rings. "Sure, uh, sir, they're in the back."
"Amazing," he winks as he approaches. There's something about his cadence. You never noticed on the screen, but it's familiar?
"Tony Stark, but I'm sure you already know," he says as he comes up next to you.
You continue down the centre aisle and nod, "yep, uh, kinda."
"Kinda?" He wonders.
"I mean, you're Iron Man or something, right?"
"Or something," he chortles. "You know what, on the second hand," he stops and checks out a silver statue of a naked Grecian goddess, "I think I came for this." He traces along her tits. "Don't make em like they used to, huh?"
He looks at you. No, he looks at your chest. You sputter.
"Bath mats are this way," you turn.
"Ah, come on, don't be like that FinchiePie."
You stop short. Your lashes flick and you gulp. How does he know your user name. You turn to look at him.
He adjusts his tie as he comes closer.
"You know, my middle name is Edward. Anthony Edward Stark."
You stare at him. No, it can't be. That's ridiculous.
"Eddie?" You rasp.
He puts his hands out and smirks, "it's a cute nickname, isn't it?"
"No."
"You left things a little tense. I don't like untied ends so..."
"It's a joke. A prank," you shake your head. "Is this what you do for fun?"
"I'm a funny guy, sweetheart, but I'm not joking right now," he comes closer. "Look, if I tell you the truth, that there was no tall blonde, that I was lying, will you give me a chance?"
You search his face. You're lost. Your disbelief muddles reality.
"This isn't real."
"You ever tried shwarma? It's so damn good."
"No, Eddie-- No, Tony?" Your eyes flit back and forth. "I... I gotta..." you spin and scurry away.
He calls your name. You can't stop. You run down the bath aisle and into the employee restroom. You twist the lock and stare at your baffled reflection.
"What the fuck?" You ask the person in the mirror.
#tony stark#dark tony stark#dark!tony stark#tony stark x reader#series#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#stark contrast#avengers#iron man#mcu#marvel
327 notes
·
View notes
Text
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.
#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda fanfic#wanda x you#marvel fanfiction#eventual smut#mommy wanda#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#smut#natasha#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha x reader#wanda x natasha#wandanat#scarlet witch#natasha romanoff x reader#wandanat x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#threes0me#gxg smut#soft smut#rough smut#marvel smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
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.
#star wars#MCU#crossovers#tony stark#natasha romanoff#natasha romanova#phoenix posts#I almost wrote this as an actual one-shot instead of a numbered AU buuuuuuut had to argue with a Jedi-hater instead#avengers#avengers endgame#death mention#qui gon jinn#obi wan kenobi#tholme#quinlan vos#reincarnation#isekai
361 notes
·
View notes
Text
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”.
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
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.”
312 notes
·
View notes
Text
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
#ncis#ncis fanfiction#gibbs#jethro gibbs#leroy jethro gibbs#gibbs x reader#jethro gibbs x reader#reader#reader fic#teen reader#teen!reader#daughter reader#daughter!reader#tony dinozzo#tony x reader#tony dinozzo x reader#gibbs x dinozzo#dinozzo x gibbs#mine#oc reader#oc!reader#leroy jethro gibbs x reader#gibbs x oc#jethro gibbs x oc#tony x oc#tony dinozzo x oc
683 notes
·
View notes
Text
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.)
#basically two friends of mine had brought up this concept to me in separate instances and now i cannot stop thinking about it#i IMPLORE you to take this... write this... do what you will.#it's free real estate!#my own personal marvel what if...? episode if you will#spider-man#deadpool & wolverine#mcu#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#spiderman#nwh#no way home#spider man#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#spider-man au#deadpool & wolverine au#mcu au#mcu fic idea#ela word vomits!#ela posts!#mcu spider-man#mcu spider man#spiderman mcu#spider man mcu#peter parker#peter parker needs a hug#wade wilson#logan howlett#poolverine
306 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Favorite WinterIron fics
Some of these fics are long term favorites and some I recently discovered, in no particular order!
Bright gold and render lead by nasri
Tony Stark is newly sixteen, with chapped lips and a gram and a half of cocaine in his system, the first time he meets the Winter Soldier.
Where They'll Never Find Me by 27 dragons
Tony's daemon tends to creep people out, both because she's odd-looking and because she keeps trying to touch people.
calling me home by feignedsobriquet, weethreequarter
When Alexander Pierce turns up asking questions about Harley, it sets off alarm bells in Tony's head. But he never could've predicted it would result in him going on the run with the Winter Soldier in a desperate attempt to protect his children from Hydra.
like dominos by complicationstoo
When a knee injury costs Bucky his spot on the college football team and his scholarship, he isn’t sure how he’s going to pay for tuition anymore. Until he meets Tony Stark, who somehow makes getting married to a stranger sound like a brilliant idea.
hold the line by hemingyay
In which Bucky disappears on Steve, rings Tony's doorbell and begs to sign the Accords. And Tony - god help him - lets him.
The Fight Against Touch by MZ_Supermanfan
The one where Tony meets his soulmate and subsequently tries to fix him. Along with the Accords. And the Avengers. And pretty much everything else that is thrown his way.
Place in Your Heart by Potrix
They try to hide it, Bucky can see the effort they all put into making him more comfortable, but Bucky isn’t stupid, he knows they’d rather have him somewhere else, somewhere far away from their home, the place where they’re supposed to feel happy and safe.
big love to all these writers!
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s a foreplay thing
A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day everyone ❤️Switching things up a bit with this one. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you’ve enjoyed reading :)
Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Logan x Reader.
Warnings: 18+ smut-ish? fluff.
Main Masterlist
Tony Stark
We all know this man is a sucker for women in power; the man practically drools if he sees you take charge of a situation or sees you in action.
Fights are a whole other ballgame for Tony Stark. Consider a horn dog every time you end up on a battlefield against the bad guys.
Usually one to show off, he doesn’t mind taking a back seat if it means watching you take down troops and look sexy while doing it. It’s practically foreplay.
“Kinda raining on my parade there, sweetheart, but I’ll let it slide cuz you’re just too sexy when you kick butt.” “Need me to come and rescue you, hon?” “No thanks, Stark. I got it.” “Oh wow. What’s was that move? And does it work in bed too?” “We’re literally in the middle of a fight, Tony.” “Hey! I see parallels on the field and between the sheets, you did straddle him, I’m just—” “Tony, sweetie, I love you and everything but shut the fuck up.” “Yes, dear.”
Will definitely want you to demonstrate some moves in the bedroom, nope, he hasn’t let it go. He does have a thing for those unitards they make you wear too. Just expect sex after a mission, it’s happening.
Comes first, quicker than he usually would because he’s already pretty close to combusting. Drives him to near death if you sink to your knees in that unitard and suck him off.
Bucky Barnes
Definitely is the one to train you before going for missions.
Sparring sessions with him often lead to getting handsy in the shower later, or right there if you’re alone with the super-soldier.
Is super confident you can hold your own on the field but does keep a watchful eye out because he doesn’t want you getting hurt. But he’s super gentle with you later in case of injuries, cares for you like no other!
Watch out for that proud smirk on his handsome little face each time you successfully take down a Hydra agent or any enemy for that matter.
Gets him going if you defend or cover for him during missions and kick ass in close proximity. Especially if he sees you pull a move he’s taught you.
“Cat got your tongue there, Mr. Barnes?” “No uh, I just. You look really hot out there, doll.” He murmurs almost shyly?
Also, what better way to celebrate a victory than a quickie in the quinjet?
Logan Howlett
Doesn’t feel the need for you to fight in the first place, especially since he’s well capable of handling any and every situation just by himself.
He’s extremely reluctant in having you on a dangerous mission, extra protective wanting not a hair on your head to be touched.
Leads to arguments about you being perfectly capable of handling yourself? Yep. Does that also later lead to hot apology, make up sex? YEP.
Also a lot of - “Can’t have anything happen to you, sweetheart. Not on my watch.”
The off chance that you actually are fighting alongside Logan, you make sure to put in extra effort to make sure he sees how prepared you are for the mission and that he’d better not doubt your fighting skills ever again.
Single. Eyebrow. Raise. Check. And that signature smirk? Check.
“Got something to say there, Logan?” “Uh. Nothin’. Well done.” “Just ‘well done’”? I deserve a frickin treat for that.” “Oh you’ll get a treat alright. Just not here.” “I could find us a deserted corner..”
#tony stark x reader#bucky barnes x reader#logan howlett x reader#tony stark fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#logan howlett fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#tony stark#bucky x reader#logan howlett#tony stark imagine#bucky barnes imagine#logan howlett imagine#tony stark smut#bucky barnes fluff#logan howlett fluff#the stark squad#mostly marvel musings
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
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!!
#riize hard hours#riize hard thoughts#riize imagines#riize x reader#anton lee#riize anton#anton hard thoughts#anton hard hours#anton imagines#riize fanfic#anton fanfic#sub anton#sub riize#sub anton lee#anton x reader#lee anton x reader#im obsessed w anton & im not even a briize but hes SOOOOOOO CUTEEEE#im so sorry if this isn't plausible but whatever!!! its fanfiction#tysm to my lovely partner for proofreading this three times TT#tumblr user bonedo-enthusiast you mean everything to me <3#i can't believe this is on the internet...#crazy that at one point this was just jumbled thoughts in my head#blueberrybeomgyu#fics: anton 🐶.ᐟ
255 notes
·
View notes