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speechlessxx · 5 years ago

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Fall For You (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Summary: In which Steve is the emergency contact of his ex-wife.

Warnings: amnesia, mentioned accident, incorrect medical banter, sad Steve, bad writing, angst, language, divorce... for some reason I’m always writing about divorce.

Word Count: 1.9k

Inspired from: Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade

Feedback is appreciated!

The cabin used to be a home. It was filled with laughter, excited chatter, loving moans. Steve recalled when he carried you bridal-style over the threshold. You were all giggles and he was all smiles. Both of you excited for the next chapter in your lives. What happened?

Steve questioned that every day as he walked past your favorite wedding photo. It was hung over the fireplace. Albeit, it hung crookedly after you slammed the front door - the same door he carried you through - and never returned.

As easily as he could’ve straightened out the photo - or even taken it down - he couldn’t find the strength to do so. He found irony in that. He was a super soldier and he couldn’t bring himself to take down a picture frame.

You and Steve were different in many, many ways. However, you both managed to balance one another out. Where he was strict and followed orders to the tee, you were a go-with-the-flow type of agent, a master of adaptability. Where you always felt like you were floating away into nothingness, he was grounded. He kept you steady while you kept him on his toes.

You were a perfect couple. Were.

Steve wanted to retire. After saving the universe, defeating Thanos, losing Tony and Nat, he longed for normalcy. He wanted a home, a wife, kids. And for a time, you wanted the same thing.

However, you couldn’t find yourself settling into the life Steve wanted. You were itching for something else -- that excitement that came with missions. And after a year, you realized you didn’t want retirement, at least not yet. You felt as if you could still contribute to the world and felt selfish hiding away in your perfect cabin home.

Steve disagreed. He always disagreed. He told you that you both deserved to settle down. It was okay that you both walked away. It wasn’t selfish. In fact, he called you selfish for wanting your old life back. He tried to convince you for days and you tried to let yourself be convinced. But it just wasn’t enough.

On a stormy night, the once laughter filled home was full of screams. The once perfect couple yelled at one another at the top of their lungs. You had enough. You raced to your shared bedroom, packed a back, and left with the slamming of the door. And he let you go.

Give her an hour, or two. Steve told himself. But two hours turned into a day. And a day turned into a week. He grew anxious. He prepared to follow you out. He had connections. He knew he could find you. But just as he opened the door, Sam stood there with his head hung low and a somber look on his face. He handed Steve a file and said, “I’m sorry, man.”

You divorced your husband.

-=+=-

It’s been over a year. Through Sam and Bucky, Steve kept tabs on you. Eventually, that stopped. They advised Steve to move on which angered him. Had you moved on, too? (The answer was no. You still loved him very much).

With your absence, Steve preoccupied himself with home renovations. He adopted a dog, a golden retriever whose previous owners named “Captain”.

As he juggled cutting wood and playing fetch with Captain, his phone rang. It was an unknown number. He frowned as he put the phone to his ear, “hello?”

“Hi, is this Mr. Steven Rogers?” A woman’s voice rang through the phone.

“This is he. What’s this about?”

“Hi, Mr. Rogers. I - There’s no easy way for me to say this, but you’re the emergency contact of a Mrs. (Y/N) Rogers.” Color drained from his face. “Well... she’s been involved in an accident.”

It had been weeks since he received that phone call. He stayed by your bedside with Captain at his feet. Bucky had explained you were following a mafia boss. Apparently, you had followed a lead but the boss knew about you. He had his goons crash into your car as you were driving to the compound. Doctors explained Steve that you had severe trauma to the head. Steve thought the image of your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks would haunt him for the rest of his life. He was wrong. You were bruised and bandaged, cuts ans scrapes littered all over your body. Your lifeless body hooked up to machines. That would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Expect the worst,” the doctor advise.

-=+=-

When you awoke, Steve was happy. You, on the other hand, were confused. Who was this blonde man celebrating your eyes opening? His smile quickly faded as he saw your confusion. “Do you know who I am?” he asked you and he prayed for a yes. But you did your best to shake your head. No. You didn’t know this man.

The doctors explained that you had amnesia. The man at your bedside asked if your memories would be recovered, but the doctor didn’t give a definite answer.

All you knew about yourself was your name, so you relied on the handsome blonde man to fill in the gaps. You returned to your room at the Avengers Compound a week after waking up. From what you gathered, he had a cabin in the woods, but he refused to go back. He chose to stay by your side.

Throughout the weeks, he was your sense of comfort. Your sense of familiarity. Although you didn’t recognize him or had any memory of your past with him, something inside you told you to trust him.

He explained to you what you did as a living -- an Avenger. He explained that you were married to him, he had photographic proof. He explained that you left him to go back to being an Avenger. You chuckled when he finished. “I’m an idiot,” you thought aloud. Why would you leave this man?

Steve Rogers.

Throughout your months recuperating, you found yourself falling in love with Steve Rogers. He tended to you and cared for you. Why would you leave such a man? You scolded past self daily for her mistake.

“You good?” Steve asked as he finished drying your hair. You nodded. “You’re quiet today.”

“Just thinking,” you smiled. He hummed in response. “You don’t need to be my personal slave, Steve... I can dry my own hair.”

He chuckled but didn’t respond. In truth, many of the small deeds that Steve did for you, you could do on your own. He just used it as an excuse to be around you -- not that you minded.

He helped you get into your bed, tucking you in. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before turning to leave. You sat up on your bed and grabbed his arm. “Can you... uh... can you stay with me for the night?”

Steve gave you a warm smile as he nodded. “Scoot over,” he said and you did as told. You turned to your side as he draped his arm over your waist. “This okay?” he asked, not wanting to push you.

“Yeah.” Steve let out a sigh of relief. He was always careful. He knew with your situation, he shouldn’t expect you to still be in love with him. He fluttered around you like a moth to a light because he was afraid no one else would take care of you considering everyone in the compound was busy. And you were grateful for his company.

“Stevie?” you asked after a few moments of silence. He hummed. “Do you think tomorrow... you can take me to the cabin?” You turned in the bed to look at him.

He gave you a smile. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

-=+=-

The next morning, he drove you up to the cabin. The ride was full of laughs as he played music that he claimed was your favorite. You danced in the passenger seat as he sung. Honestly, you preferred his singing over the music.

He opened your passenger door and helped you get out the truck. You took in the sight of the cabin as he let Captain out the backseat. It felt familiar.

Your fingertips grazed the wooden banister of the front porch. You suddenly had a memory of laughing as you sat on the porch, painting it with Steve.

“Can I do something?” Steve asked, bringing you back to the present. You nodded. You let out a squeal as he suddenly picked you up bridal style.

“Steve!” You laughed as you squirmed in his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tightly. “Don’t drop me!”

He chuckled. “I won’t, I won’t!”

He pushed the front door open as he maneuvered your bodies into the house. You were both a giggling mess as he finally let you down. He whistled for Captain who ran into the house and nuzzled his face into the back of your knee. You laughed as you bent down to scratch his ear.

“So this was our home,” Steve said, a sad smile on his face as he closed the door.

“Whoever decorated it had a great sense of style,” you complimented.

“Yeah, you definitely had a good eye.” Steve nodded.

“Oh c’mon, you helped too, right!” You argued. Steve just shook his head.

“I mean, I suggested a thing or two,” he shrugged. “Go ‘head. Look around.”

You smiled at him as you carefully walked around the house. You examined every little scratch in the paint, every trinket on display -- everything. There was a small desk pushed to the side of the living room. Its drawer was ajar. You opened it fully and saw sketches. Pages upon pages of sketches.

Some were of the New York City skyline. Others were the trees that surrounded your home. There was one of the cabin. But what caught your eye were the drawings of a woman. Some had her posing. Some were candid with her washing the dishes, eating, looking out a window. Every detail was drawn. You smiled. “You’re quite the artist,” you told Steve.

He smirked, “what made you think those were mine?”

“Well, considering I’m not much of an artist,” you laughed. “And I’m not so self-absorbed that I’d draw myself.” He chuckled. “No, you’re really talented.” He muttered a thank you as you put the drawings back, closing the drawer.

You turned and saw the fireplace. Steve stiffened when he realized what you were staring at -- the crooked picture frame. You frowned slightly as You carefully walked over and reached up to adjust it.

After straightening it out, you realized what it was. Steve had shown you pictures of your wedding, but you had never seen this one. You were in the same white wedding gown and he his tux. The photo was taken off guard. You were in each other’s arms as you swayed to the music.

You stared at the photo and it felt like it started moving. You remembered the ceremony. You remembered Steve tearing up as you walked down the aisle. You remembered Bucky and Sam sharing the honor of the best man and their bickering during the speeches. You remembered your speech and Steve’s. You remembered the honeymoon. The blissful getaway. You remembered him carrying you into the cabin. You remembered the fight. You remembered slamming the door shut and not looking back.

You gasped as you backed away from the photo. Steve rushed to your side, catching you as you stumbled. “You alright?” He asked you.

You blinked away tears as you nodded. You looked up at him and cupped his face in your hands, pulling him in for a kiss. He was surprised at first, but quickly melted into your touch. Oh, how he missed your touch.

You pulled away. “I remember...” you smiled, happy tears falling from your eyes. “I remember...”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #fluff #angst #was this bad idk

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veryvincible · 4 years ago

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how do you draw faces? mine look okay in sketches but lining them ruins them 😢

I may not be the best person to ask, given that I’m a self taught artist in the same way someone who watches a lot of Synesthesia videos might be a self taught pianist. I can certainly pick up a pen and draw, but I’m not super well versed in terminology or, uh, really anything specific that might be of help to you. I’ve just been doing it for so long that my hands know how to do it. I will respectfully tag @ghosthan here, though, and if she’s willing to give some advice of her own (and possibly correct some advice I’m giving you, if any of it is not up to par), she’s more than welcome to. She is the Art School friend.

But, since you’re here, here’s my basic process:

I’d suggest using a lot of reference images if you’ve got a particular look in mind, especially as someone who’s not super practiced with faces. This is especially helpful for angles that might seem unfamiliar to you. I’ve kind of collected all the knowledge there is to collect from my usual references (Steve, Tony, and Tiberius), so I don’t have to do much searching when I draw them, but when I pick up a new character, I tend to scroll through images of people that match their age, race, etc. to see what vibe I’m going for.

For our purposes, I’ll just pull up the reference I used to solidify my 616 Tony. I don’t think this is a perfect faceclaim by any means, and there are a lot of changes I tend to make with his face shape and facial structure overall (mostly jaw, cheekbone, and nose changes), but. Here’s David Gandy, tumblr’s favorite.

I usually do this part by eye, to the point where I’m not actually sure whether or not this is how you’re supposed to do it anymore, but breaking the face with three lines and comparing the widths of the sections you get as a result is very helpful for proportions.

Kiiind of like this? I know some people are very particular about where these lines are supposed to be (like, where they fall on the eyes, nose, and mouth) and what the circle is supposed to be focused on (I’ve heard someone say it should be from the top of the skull to the bottom of the nose?), but as a general guide, my rough sketch when I’m looking at a reference kind of resembles this minus the lines. I just start the circle at the top of the skull and try not to make it much wider than the ears, then adjust later on to accommodate the rest of the skull.

So, this is kind of rough, and I can explain how I do it by eye if it’ll help, but.

As you can see, the middle of the nose here kind of splits the face (from the forehead to the jaw) in half, at least on Gandy. By eye, I’d take more care to notice the bottom of the nose as well as the middle to create kind of a diamond shape in my sketch (we’ll get to that in a minute), as well as the top and bottom lines of the lips, but that’s more intuitive.

So, you can kind of place placeholders for everything here, and I’ll go more into detail about how I do individual facial features, but.

This is basically the most bare bones one of my sketches will get. I put in little lines for the cheekbones, and I start sketching in some basic features. I sharpened the jaw as well, because I like a Tony with a sharp jaw. :)

For the eye shape, I basically get down the shape of the eyeball we see+the inner corner of the eye. Then you can focus a little more on studying the eyelids, the wrinkles, etc. And then I added in a little iris+pupil, which is... you know, circles.

The nose is pretty simple. You get down the ball and the little shapes above the nostrils (nostril houses..?), and then you start to build the bridge off of that. Some people’s noses don’t have very pronounced bridges, so you don’t have to bring it up that high. I’ve drawn some noses that just kind of fizzled out at the top of the ball (and then defined the very slight bridge later on in coloring/shading).

The last bit is just erasing most of that circle and then stylizing the bridge/ball a bit.

Excuse the rough, rough erasing here, but this is basically the deal for lips. You can squash/stretch/whatever the circles as needed to match the face shape you’re going for, and you can add some fun shines if that pleases you. Lips, I mostly play by ear, but this is the method I used when I was first starting out.

Speaking of ears. I would help you with those if I had any idea how. I feel like I use a reference every single time I draw an ear. Sometimes, I just scribble whatever the fuck into the lines and just let it happen. This was one of those times. My bad.

So, you just take what you’ve done there and plop them onto the sketch (I usually lower the first rough sketch’s opacity and then make the neater sketch over it, as opposed to having a rough sketch that I then try to line-- it’s not that time consuming once rough sketches come more naturally to you), and:

You get something like this! Some details have been changed (bridge of his nose, lip shape), but all of these were small modifications that worked to personalize the reference. I tend to do my face very cleanly the first time to get all the details right, and sometimes this works so well that I can just copy+paste everything inside the face and color it black for the finished lineart. This isn’t a must or anything, but it’s my preference. Even if you’re rougher than this, sticking to lines that you’re pretty confident will be placed similarly in the final lineart can help a lot with finalizing the portrait.

Add some facial hair, some hair, and more details, and... There he is! The reference was used more for a general “feeling” of a face and proper proportioning than anything else, and then you can switch up facial features, push things up or down, and sharpen or round out whatever you’d like to make the character look more identifiable. If you sketch like this, your lineart might be a lot easier to work with. Or you could just use this as your lineart, color it in messily, and pretend the whole thing was intentional from the start.

A few last notes that I’ve learned from actual professional/educated artists, and then you’re in @ghosthan’s ghost hands:

1) You should always be able to draw a straight line across the nose from the corner of one eye to the corner of the other. This doesn’t necessarily mean a horizontal line on your page, it just means that it’s perpendicular to the line you’d draw vertically down the face if you were to half it. To make this clearer, I’ll do the same on some stock photos.

No matter what angle the character’s at or how their head is tilted, if both eyes are showing, I’m pretty sure they follow this rule.

2) The pupil is usually centered in the center of the iris, and it’s also usually showing in full. Yes, that middle circle in there is supposed to be a pupil. I know. I draw them funny. (There are some anatomical mistakes here made in how I moved the iris along the eye, as it’s important to remember that the eye is a sphere and the iris will move around it, as opposed to the iris moving up/down/left/right on a flat plane). The biggest mistake artists make with this is that they’ll move the pupil to the side of the iris that the iris is pointed toward; if the eye is looking left, the iris will be to the left (correct) and the pupil will be to the left of the iris (less correct). A lot of people cut off the top half of the pupil when stylizing eyes as well, which is... I mean, again, it’s just slightly less correct. Honestly, I’ve seen some art styles where these “mistakes” worked fine, and I don’t really think your art style has to be perfectly anatomically correct with every single tiny detail of the pupils and iris and whatnot, if you’re not submitting it to any critics or competitions or w/e. But if you would like this information, here you go. I have it.

3) Identify the hairline, then draw your hair in sections before adding detail. I didn’t learn this one from an art school source (I picked it up naturally, just from photo/comic panel studies), but this is art school friend approved, so! Apparently, a lot of beginner artists struggle a lot with rendering believable hair. These sketches are by no means flawless, but the gist is there: cut it up into sections, draw those first, then fill in the details afterward. It’ll give you a more cohesive looking style and make it easier for you to fiddle with the hairstyle as you go along.

That’s all I have for now! I know this is nowhere near fully comprehensive (and it doesn’t cover a lot of angles, nor coloring, nor... okay, a lot’s missing), but here’s how I generally go about fully sketching a straight-on face.

If you have any more questions, please let me know! Or you can ask @ghosthan directly and get actual art school advice.

#cassks #i don't know how well this was formatted #my art #uhhh #art tutorial #?#i guess?#hesitant tagging but sure

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angelicthor · 5 years ago

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billion dollar man - part 9

pairing: tony stark x reader

summary: after mounting bills and debt cause you to look at alternative means of making money, you’re thrown into a whole different kind of life when one of the most famous billionaires on the block offers to be your sugar daddy, of course in exchange for a different from of payment. non-superhero au.

warnings/genre: +18 only, sugarbaby/daddy relationship, nat-centric chapter, mentions of ptsd, slight daddy kink

masterlist | billion dollar man masterlist

a/n: i am a slut for validation, pls + thnks

Blowing on the cup of coffee Nat had handed you, you brought the steaming liquid to your lips, humming at the taste that flooded your mouth and looked over the numerous fabric samples Nat had spread out over her desk.

Your eyes wandered over the various silks, velvets, leathers, and lace that all sat piled up in various shades as Nat tried to perfect her latest designs for her next line, pencil scribbling on the multitude of sheets she had in front of her. Plucking up a patch of baby blue silk, you let your thumb stroke over the unbelievably soft material in your hand.

“Wow, that’s soft,” You muttered placing your cup and the fabric down as you moved to examine one of the designs Nat had sketched out, “So how does this work? You draw them, pick the right fabrics and then what?”

“Sort off, I have to figure out what how to creature the perfect shape with the fabric and the design. See the overall design won’t change regardless of what fabric we use but how we structure the cup is what provides the support, so it’s about getting that right before we go to production. It may take a few failed prototypes, but I’ll get it in the end.”

Nat placed a patch of cream lace over the baby blue silk you had been admiring before clipping them both to the paper she was writing on and heading over to the sewing machine in the corner of her office, pinning her design to the board on the wall before tracing out the desired shapes on the bolt of silk she had, quickly eyeing you as she made her templates.

You watched in fascination as her design came to life before your eyes, Natasha expertly sewing the pieces together with skilful precision until the feeble scraps of silk became boutique lingerie.

“How’s the wedding planning going?”

“Ugh don’t ask, Sam’s insisting we have a fucking falcon fly down the aisle to deliver our wedding rings. It doesn’t exactly tie in with our plan for a low-key wedding,” Natasha groaned, banging on the sewing machine when the lace details she was attaching to the cup stuck around the needle, muttering angry curses in Russian under her breath. “It’s Sam, he has this thing for falcons - I swear he’s obsessed. He says he’s already found the perfect one, ‘redwing’. Not gonna happen.”

You couldn’t help but snort at her, “I hate to break it to you Nat but a wedding in the Hamptons isn’t exactly low-key.”

And it was true, you had seen all of her plans up to now and they were anything but simple, the dress being hand-designed in London by one of the most exclusive designers you had ever heard of, the venue was stunning, and the grand total was more than you had ever seen anyone spend on a wedding before in your life.

If this was Nat’s idea of subtle, you would love to see what her being extravagant looked like.

“Yeah, well I’m still not having a damn bird fly down the aisle,” Nat muttered as she threaded the wire through the bottom of the bra, “Besides, I’m taking a break from planning the wedding.”

You quirked a brow at that, Natasha Romanoff wasn’t one to take breaks.

“Oh really, and why would that be? Don’t tell me the infamous Natasha Romanoff is tired of a little wedding planning?” You couldn’t help but tease, a playful smirk on your face as the redhead stuck her tongue out at you.

“Ha-ha, very funny. But no, more like I have to start planning my birthday party if I want to beat your sugar daddy – he’s won every fucking year and I refuse to lose this time.”

Leave it to Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff to turn something as simple as a birthday party into a competition.

“Ok, what? How is that a competition?” You asked incredulously, reclining back in your chair as you pondered over their strange rivalry.

Nat only shrugged as she moved onto a matching pair of panties; “We just see who can throw the greatest, most talked about birthday party each year. It started when we first met I guess, our birthdays are only a month apart so when he found out what I was doing, he just had to out-do me. Ever since then, it’s been like an on-going competition to throw the better party.”

“Huh,” You bit your lips as you contemplated your next words, debating whether or not you should go down that particular road, “So, how long have you known Tony?”

You heard the sewing machine stop, refusing to look up from the other designs you were flicking through for fear that Nat see through your casual façade. That, however, did not stop Nat from scrutinising you, knowing that the forced nonchalance held a far deeper meaning than you were letting on.

“Five, six years maybe? Why?”

“I just, I wanted to know something I guess, I figured I could maybe ask you?”

“Ok…” Nat trailed off unsure, invitation for you to ask what was on your mind.

“Has Tony always been, I mean was he ever not – why is he so closed off? Did something happen or has he always been so withdrawn?” You sighed out, struggling to find the right question as your brain stumbled over all the words you knew.

Nat silently put down her work, rising from her seat and moving to the chair across from yours, taking your fidgeting hands in her own and squeezing them reassuringly as you worried at your bottom lip.

“What’s going on Y/N? Has Tony done something to you because I swear to god I will-”

“No! No, it’s not like that. It’s just, he struggles being open with his emotions and it’s beginning to take a toll on him. I’m worried about him Nat, but I can’t understand why he want to just ignore it. I figured maybe something had happened which caused him to be so closed off, maybe if I knew what it was I could help him? I don’t know, I guess it was a bit of a long shot huh?”

“No, that makes sense. But I don’t know what to tell you Y/N, he’s kept emotional distance with everyone as long as I’ve known him. It’s one of the things we have in common actually. I do know that he had a strained relationship with his father – maybe that has something to do with it?”

His father? Tony had never spoke of the man, not in detail anyway. In fact, you didn’t know anything about Tony’s parents that wasn’t already public information; everyone knew when and how they died, it had covered newspapers for weeks and was ingrained into the Stark legacy, but you didn’t know any personal stories of his parents, you didn’t know what birthdays or Christmases were like, you didn’t know what special family traditions there were. You knew absolutely nothing of Tony’s childhood.

“I don’t know Nat, I just hope the therapy helps with whatever he’s going through.”

Nat’s eyes widened at that news. “Tony’s going to therapy?” she asked in complete disbelief.

“Yeah, he’s there right now; he was having really bad nightmares, he couldn’t sleep, he was having panic attacks – I think it’s because of what happened in Afghanistan, he told me about it and I can completely understand how traumatic that would be, but I can’t get my head around why he acted like showing any sort of emotion was a weakness.” Tears started to form in your eyes as you recalled how distraught Tony was after a nightmare, how his voice had broken when he finally opened up to you.

“You can’t tell anyone Tony’s in therapy Nat, it’ll just cause him to be more closed off, please don’t-”

“Hey! Hey!” Nat cut through you hysterics, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and bringing your head to rest on her chest, “I’m not going to tell anyone I swear, not even Sam. But don’t think you can’t tell me anything ok – you bottling everything up isn’t good, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here ok?”

Nat pressed a kiss to your forehead as you wiped away your tears, pulling away from her embrace to offer her a watery smile.

“Thanks Nat.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said as she tucked a lose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re good for him you know,” she muttered out, eyes appraising you as a small smile played on her lips, “Come on, your gonna be my model.”

You could only furrow your brows in confusion as she pulled you from your seat and lead you over to the area of her office that was cordoned off by an intricately designed divider, pushing you into the corner and handing you the bra and panties she had just made.

Reluctantly, you began to strip out of your clothes and into the brand-new lingerie set that Nat had made, the soft baby-blue silk cupping your breasts perfectly, the cream lace decorating the trim and centre piece, the matching thong consisting of the same silk, the lace lining the waistband in perfect symmetry to the bra – they were honestly stunning, the colours and design giving you a sinfully sweet look that you knew would make a certain billionaire’s head spin.

“Well? Let me see my work woman!”

You hesitantly waked out, clutching your arms in front of yourself to try and block Nat’s view of your barely clothed form. Awkwardly standing before her as she stood from her seat and slowly circled you, assessing her work as she did.

“Sweetie, you kind of have to move your hands,” Nat hummed out amused, pulling your arms apart and leading you over to the full-length mirror so you could properly appreciate what you were wearing.

“It’s beautiful Nat, you did amazing,” You said in awe, looking over the design, no longer caring in the slightest about your lack of clothing.

“I couldn’t agree more, how does it fit?”

“Perfect. Which is slightly strange considering you never actually took my measurements.”

“I can tell just by looking, years of practise I guess,” Nat answered, trailing her hands around the bra, testing to see how well it fit against your chest.

Your breath hitched as Nat continued to trace her hands over her work as she moved to stand behind you, her deep chuckle making you shiver, “Aw, Am I making you nervous Y/N?”

Before you could answer the door to her office swung open, your head snapping towards the familiar form walking into the room. “Hey Nat, your secretary said that… Y/N was… here? Am I missing something?” Tony stood completely befuddled in the middle of the room, eyes darting between you and Nat as you watched the gears in his head turn, trying to explain the view in front of him.

You stood still in shock, mouth opening and closing like a fish as Nat squeezed your waist and walked in front of you, “Your girl was just doing some modelling for me Tony, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You can get dressed now Y/N, and keep them, they suite you.”

You scurried back to the screen to throw your clothes on, hearing Tony mutter under his breath as you changed: “First Barnes and now you Romanoff. Christ, is everyone out to try and seduce her?”

“Oh, relax Stark, nothing happened. Although you can’t blame anyone for trying, have you seen her?”

You dashed back outside, sensing that Tony was about to overshare and not for the first time so you stopped the words from leaving his mouth by attaching your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck as you practically launched yourself at him.

Pulling away, Tony had a dazed look on his face before his brows furrowed in confusion, “I forgot what I was going to say.”

“Good.”

Tony gave you a lazy smirk, his hands that were resting on your waist moving down to pinch your ass as he peppered kisses across your face and down your neck.

“Ugh, get a room,” Nat mumbled teasingly.

“You know Romanoff,” Tony’s gaze didn’t leave yours as he spoke to Nat, a cheeky sparkle in his eyes, “That’s not a bad idea.”

Without giving you a chance to respond Tony began to pull you towards the door, you stumbling after him as you bid goodbye to Nat over your shoulder.

“Goodbye Y/N,” Nat sang out, a smug smirk pulling at her lips as she waved goodbye to you.

Tony pushed you against the elevator wall the moment the doors closed behind you both, his lips automatically assaulting your neck as your head lolled back to give him more room as he nipped and kissed at the exposed skin there.

“Please tell me you’re still wearing that set?” Tony groaned out, voice husky with desire.

You hummed in answer, nodding your head as you bit down on your bottom lip, grinning when Tony let out a guttural moan. “You’re fucking killing me babygirl,” He choked out, burying his face in your neck as he held you flush against him.

Rolling your hips against the growing bulge in his trousers, you bit gently on Tony’s earlobe before whispering sultrily, “You love it Daddy.”

a/n: i don’t have a tag list but if you want alerts please follow @angelicthorwrites and turn on notifications

#tony stark x reader #tony x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n #tony stark series #angelicthorwrites

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jbbuckybarnes · 5 years ago

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Distant Connection - 2/11

Pairing: Bucky x Harmonia (OC) Warnings: a bit of angst, a lot of domestic fluff Summary: After an unknown group of goons took her mom’s life and tried to get her for the dark magic powers she possesses, this untaught witch is saved by the Avengers and brought to the compound where her new life unfolds.

MASTERLIST || Distant Connection Masterlist

Harmony was about to see the student area of the Stark Tower for the first time. Tony provided all the kids with wifi, laptops, food, medical help and tutoring there. She overheard it in a few conversations and she really wanted to draw in an environment like this again and also learn more about her witchcraft.

As she walked in she could see a lot of concentrated students sitting on laptops and others sitting together talking. She walked into the little laptop area with all the desks to see Steve sitting there drawing concentrated. There weren’t a lot of students in there and most of them had headphones on so she sat down beside him with a “Looks beautiful.” His head went up and he gave her a soft smile back “Thanks. Still trying to get into all the new markers from this time.” He had drawn a pink Starbucks drink with alcohol markers, the page he was currently working on was a view of a NYC street and he was painting with gouache. “Can I join your little art session?” she asked pulling out a watercolor sketchbook and watercolor from her backpack. “Of course. What’s your art project today?” he asked after finishing another window. “You…...that sounded like I was flirting. I was not. Just need to get better at watercoloring humans.” she chuckled. They both looked down and worked on their little projects for a while. “I heard you called me big energy ball?” he said and couldn’t take himself serious. “Yup, the outside finally fits the mindset.” she giggled with him. “You changed something in James’ mind?” he asked a bit softer about the thing he overheard. “I tried to bring more positive memories in the main focus again. You were doing a lot of dumb shit in the 30s and 40s” she smiled at him because he had stopped to listen to her. “I was...I can’t even lie about the fact that I wasn’t much different back then. A little less mature, but now I’m just that with the actual body fitting to the mind of a tiny human taking on the world alone.” he laughed about himself. “I saw some of the memories. They were hilarious.” she was thankful that it was way easier to talk to him than she expected.

“Can you...do that with me too?” he asked curious. “Yes, but that means I see everything you saved into your long term memory.” she said a little more awkward. “Oh please don’t tell me you saw all of the assassin stuff...please…” he was concerned for her and looking at her frowning. “I did...that was my first try. It was a spontaneous thing.” she went back into shy mode but he pulled her onto his lap to give her a big hug. “Don’t do it with Nat, Sam or Tony. They are good people but that would hurt you more than you could probably take.” he mumbled against her forehead. “Do you still want me to do it?” she looked up at him. “Only if you’re comfortable with it...why does this sound like we’re talking about something different.” he realized all of a sudden and both started laughing. “Something’s still off about the painting.” he said pointing towards it trying to change the subject. “I think you just need to feel out the colors better. Darker gouache tends to dry lighter and lighter gouache tends to dry darker. Should’ve done a color test. But I think you need to correct the glass reflection on the ground floor here a little bit.” she gave him advice still sitting on his lap. “Would you stand up, or?” he gestured at her initial seat. She reseated. “Hmpf, was so comfortable for once,” she said with a fake pout and got a chuckle back.

After correcting his painting in silence he put down his brush and looked over at Harmony doing her second painting which made the first one fully visible to him. “Simple but I can definitely see it’s me.” he said smiling at it. “Just the first layer. Needs another one or two.” she smiled while painting her flower. “You wanna draw something into my notebook?” he asked a little bit more shy. “Like a notebook switch? Sure.” she said finishing her last petal before turning to him and interchanging the notebooks. He grabbed some normal pencils and an eraser before leaning over the next page while she grabbed some of his alcohol markers to start drawing one of the memories she saw in James’ mind of young and small Steve. There was a comfortable silence between them and the only thing audible were the laptops of some of the students around them and the kids laughing outside of the computer room. He made sure she couldn’t see what he drew with his pencils and was way too concentrated to look over at her beautiful 40s painting.

After about 30 minutes both of them finished their drawings almost in sync and looked up at each other. They put both of them between each other and held their breath for a second. “You drew me? Wow. That’s...so detailed.” she said in awe before reading the little note below “for the small energy ball, from the big energy ball ❤” “This is the cutest thing ever.” she said while giving him a hug and he was so concentrated on her liking it that he looked at her drawing just now over her shoulder while breaking the hug again. “You drew me from Bucky’s eyes?” he was in awe, this was a gift so rare that he couldn't grasp it. Seeing through someone else’s eyes was almost impossible but she put it into a drawing. “When I went through his mind this is one of the memories I made clearer for him again. I think it’s very you.” she said soft and with her guard up. “Wow. I remember that day. We got in big trouble for spending all our money on unhealthy stuff but the whole day was so much fun.” he smiled down at his notebook with the most genuine smile in weeks. “You have such an unique bond. I wanted to put that into a drawing.” she said fidgeting with her fingers. “You two also have a very different connection. I’ve never seen him protect someone like that.” he tried to look into her eyes but they stayed on her hands. “I feel like he’s the only person that can relate to how I feel and also keep me save, you know?” she said very vulnerable. He grabbed her hands and made her look up at him, “I might not be able to relate but I would definitely keep you save too.” A weak smile formed on her lips and a slight nod gave him an answer.

“Can I see the rest of your sketchbook?” she ask shyly again and he grabbed it and put it on her lap with a smile. She grabbed it and slowly went from page to page. There were a lot of 40s related paintings but also a lot of new ones. He drew James and Natasha a lot, sometimes the whole team, there was a little sketch with all of them sitting at the kitchen table laughing, a drawing of her and James when they sat in the corner of the common room, food with recipe notes, a page filled with uniform designs, a sketch of Peggy Carter, a watercolor painting of Grand Central Station, two hands holding each other, a bruised Thor and a closeup of his hammer, a street in Brooklyn back in the day. He didn’t seem to use the notebook chronological and just opened a page and started creating. Meanwhile he looked at her notebook. The outside was filled with stickers of potions, black cats and flowers. She was into witchcraft before she knew she was gifted.

There were a lot of watercolor and marker drawings, her mom, the campus of Syracuse University, a stranger in a coffee shop, part of what looked like her room, two people kissing, fashion sketches, crystals and moons, braided hair, two people hugging, a collage of the different parts of her outfit, sneakers, a sketch of the library in the compound, a sketch of James, an unfinished sketch of what happened to her mother, a sketch of sleeping James, a detailed painting of hands doing blue magic, a painting of James with black eyes and a smile, a sketch of the common area, the flower she just painted, the first layer of the painting she made of him and the sketch he made of her. She was very organized in the way she drew.

She looked at his concentrated face and noticed he finished going through the sketches but showed him the last page of the notebook. There was a big sticker of his shield on the little pocket in the back of the book that held little nicnacs. He looked at her with a smile and a little bit of pride “Was that always there?” he asked. “Yeah.” she said smiling back at him, taking her sketchbook back. The moment was interrupted with a 10th grader coming into the room looking straight at them. “Could you help us with world war stuff? We’ve been sitting here trying to get it into our heads and…” Steve smiled and nodded.

He left his stuff with Harmony which started doodling little things onto another page. A little shield, a bit of magical stuff, hearts, stars, moons, dots and a little note. *Always prefered you over Stark. Thought you wanted to know. Guess I have a soft spot for old grandpa Avengers. -small energy ball* After looking around at the concentrated students she picked up her brush again and started doing the second layer of her painting of him.

“Harmony?” she heard from a computer voice above. “Yeah?” she said a bit weirded out. She still wasn’t used to FRIDAY at all. “Captain Rogers has been called to the compound for a mission and asks if you could bring his belongings with you back to the compound.” the voice asked. “Sure. Tell him to stay safe.” she said with a little smile. “I will make sure to do so, Harmony.” the voice stopped. Once of the students had took his headphones out to listen to the interaction and got a shy smile from Harmony. “You are allowed to take his things with you?” she asked in awe. “I’m just bringing them back where they belong, I guess.” Harmony answered softly. “Can I ask you something?” the girl, probably around 16, asked. “Uuuh, sure.” she smiled. “Is he really as serious as everyone thinks. He seemed to be very childish and funny with you.” she asked with a nervous voice and a shy smile. “Nooo, he is a total dork but he knows when to be serious. If you ever have a problem with anything just ask him. He’s super nice and wants everyone to feel comfortable.” a smile came across the lips of both females. Harmony continued to put his sketchbook and art supplies into her bag, stood up and grabbed a bottle of water and a pack of chips from the food shelves behind her before turning around. “See you around?” she asked the girl and got a smile and a nod back before she walked out of the room and made her way back to the compound.

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salaciouxx · 7 years ago

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Allure Art

Title: Cold War

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff

Inspiration: @swietek93 said “Imagine Steve brushing a paintbrush on Natasha’s body...” and then, we went down a slippery slope of body-paint smut. Thanks for fangirling with me over this and your support. It means the world to me!

Warning: Mature content; 18+. Non-virgin Steve. First time I write an actual fic for this ship, so I apologise for anything I fuck up.

Word Count: 5,179 can’t believe i wrote this out of that one sentence

A/N: There is a slight possibility that I will write another “body-paint” Stevenat smut, but it’ll be AU. So, if you like this, lemme know!

As always, @lesqui thank you for your support and encouraging me to ruin my life with this. Lol, jk I love you , Kiwi!

~*~

It could have been the way he woke her up.

A brush in hand and a wistful glaze in his eyes. He moved the bristles along the naked plane of her shoulder, connecting the freckles on her back at first and then pressing gentle kisses to the invisible artwork.

It could have been the look in his eyes when she finally woke up and turned her head to look at him. The corner of her lips curved in a half-smile and he was left breathless.

The contrast of her bright red hair against the white pillows was almost too much for him. She was the epitome of a goddess and all she had done was smile at him.

The sunlight brightened her hair, giving it honeyed highlights and bronzed colours that he desperately wanted to capture on paper in case his eidetic memory ever failed him. He probably wouldn’t get the right shade of colours, nothing could come slightly close to how beautiful she was, but he would attempt for the sake of trying.

It could have been the way she knew exactly what he was thinking. Years of being partners had given her a rather insightful glimpse into Steve Rogers’ mind and it was one of her favourite places to lose herself within.

His eyes were so expressive, even when he didn’t mean to be. Even when he tried to hide his emotions with techniques she tried to teach him, he was an opened book to her.

It filled her with pride and a bit of...smugness.

He had wanted to paint her many times and she posed for him whenever he asked. Even caught him sketching her on napkins or the little envelopes laying around.

But this? This was different.

Steve Rogers wanted more than to capture her beauty on paper, and she could tell. She wasn’t a master interrogator for nothing!

It maybe was the way his eyes worshipped her body and silently begged her to use her body as a canvas.

She wasn’t opposed to the idea; the foreplay would be amazing and just seeing the contented smile on his face afterwards would be enough of a reward.

But something told her that Steve wouldn’t ask. Not yet. He needed to build up the courage to tell his girlfriend how badly he wanted to colour the lines of her body and use different shades to adorn her skin.

Who would have thought that Captain America would be the one to have an art kink?

It was definitely the way he kissed her after she mentioned edible body paint.

“A fucking art kit,” Natasha scoffed under her breath, slightly smiling as she grabbed the box from the floor and held it tightly to her chest.

As much as she would have loved the look of horror on Tony’s face when he realised just what kind of art they were about to do, she knew Steve would’ve enjoyed the privacy. So, she got the art kit sent to one of her safe houses and prepped everything for the evening.

Her original plan for their day was to cook dinner together, but the kit arrived a day earlier than expected and she was way too excited to stick to their plan.

After she sent him a quick text to immediately meet her at the safe-house, she sorted through the box and double-checked the materials.

Two pairs of comfy white slippers, a cotton canvas, the three colours she chose, a sponge and a protective plastic covering with instructions on “how to have the perfect night.”

It was a little cheesy, but she would be lying if she didn’t admit that she was excited. She had checked the reviews, making sure that her purchase wouldn’t be in vain, but everyone seemed extremely satisfied.

The reviews warned her that the paint was very cold and to warm them in hot water before using them and that the paint dried in about five minutes. Apparently the clean up led to more sexual aspects of the activity.

Steve arrived shortly after she finished setting up the protective plastic cover and poured herself a glass of wine. He rushed through the door, almost barrelling through it and looked for Natasha with frantic eyes.

“Are you alright?” He cupped her cheeks, his eyes searching for any sign that she was hurt. She was wearing a black silk robe and was standing barefoot, a sight worth drooling over, but he would allow himself the licentious thoughts once he was sure of her wellbeing.

She frowned, pouting her lips slightly in confusion as they parted. “What? Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

He sighed, his broad frame immediately relaxing. “You told me to get here as fast as I could, but then you weren’t answering my calls and I thought something happened.” His thumb brushed against the corner of her lip affectionately. He was staring at her as if he were afraid that she would disappear, and he would need to engrain every detail of her into his memory.

“Oh,” she smiled cheekily, “I was so busy with your surprise that I didn’t pay attention. I’m sorry. It wasn’t an emergency text and you know that if that had been the case, I would have been more-”

His lips pressed against hers desperately, he needed to make sure that she was real, that she was still there, and he wasn’t just picturing her to make himself feel better. It was a mixture of teeth and tongue; a passionate lock of lips that said just how much he loved her.

Once his frenzied emotions calmed, he pressed his forehead against hers and breathed in deeply.

“Steve…” she smiled, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the affection, “I’m sorry.” She pecked his lips before pulling back and smiling at him with his favourite smile. His smile. The smile that she reserved just for him and that he was lucky to witness.

He pulled her back in, holding her in a tight, warm embrace until he convinced himself that she wasn’t a mirage. Her lips tasted sweet, like the wine she was drinking, and she tasted like Natasha. The flavour that had him addicted to kissing her and worshipping her body like a devoted servant.

“I’m okay,” she assured him, pressing the palm of her hand against his face and caressed the smooth skin.

Steve nodded, turning his head slightly to kiss her hand and murmured, “I know.”

Natasha smiled, his smile and her eyes twinkled like emerald gemstones as she took his hand and led him down the corridor into the empty room. The mattress they had slept on many times was propped up against the wall and in the centre of the room was a white cotton sheet, two pairs of slippers and a bowl of water with three tubes of paint.

Steve raised an eyebrow, quietly analysing the objects as he tried to figure out what she was doing. Well, what the surprise was.

“I know how much you like painting,” the corners of her lips morphed into a smirk as she pictured his reaction to what they were about to do, “and I thought this would be a fun way for you to use my body as a canvas.”

“Pardon?” He cleared his throat, the rim of his ears turning a slight shade of pink, “Your body as a canvas? I don’t…I don’t understand.”

Natasha grinned, sexy and knowingly. “Steve, darling, I know you more than I know myself. I see the way you look at me when you paint. It’s endearing, really and kind of sexy that you consider my body such a…”

“Work of art?” He offered, his breathing slightly hitching as he began to realise just what was happening. Christ, she was perfect. She really did know him better than he knew himself. She knew his secrets, his sadness, his fantasies; she knew him.

That earned him a chiming laugh and she nodded. “Yes, a ‘work of art.’ So, I thought that this would be a nice way to spend our evening.” For added effect, she placed her wine glass on the makeshift table near the door and slowly slid the ties of the robe, off.

Underneath was the masterpiece that he would never achieve to capture on paper. The beauty that artists so desperately tried to paint but would never be able to. Any copy of Natasha Romanoff paled in comparison to the woman standing in front of him.

He stood in place, entranced by her femininity and the curves and lines of her body. “Have I told you,” His voice rasped, full of desire and lust, “that you are the smartest woman I’ve ever met?”

She tilted her head to the side, her red curls brushing against her slender collarbone and he clenched his fists at his sides, itching to run them through her silken hair. “That’s a little biased, but I like hearing it.”

“The smartest,” he gulped, “the most beautiful.” His eyes raked over her body, the blue in them darkening as his mind filled with the memory of her sounds, taste and kisses. Goodness, he was obsessed.

Natasha smiled again, his smile and leaned down to grab her wine glass. Steve watched with attentive eyes as her lips curved over the rim of the glass and she took a slow, rather seductive sip. Her eyes were filled with all the promises of their evening, they were dark and inviting, awakening every cell in his body.

She stepped toward him, draping an arm over his shoulder, while the other held her wine, and glanced up at him through dark eyelashes. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to reach his face and brushed her rosy lips against his. “I want you to paint me like one of your French girls, soldier.”

He understood that reference!

A small laugh rumbled in the back of this throat and his eyes stared intensely into hers. “The only woman,” he corrected, lifting his hand to trace the curve of her face, “I want to paint is Russian.”

Steve cupped her face, pulling her closer and breathed out softly as their lips moulded against each other passionately. His four front teeth grazed her bottom lip and he tugged at it lightly, earning a soft moan. He smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressed her against his body, loving the warmth emanating from her soft skin.

Suddenly, holding the wine glass was a chore. She wanted to throw it and wrap her arms around him, run her fingers through his silk hair, but the wine was expensive, and she would regret it once the heat of the moment passed.

“Steve,” she breathed, pressing herself closer, letting her desires take over, “gotta put the glass down.”

He nodded, forcing himself to stop and admired her as she quickly placed the glass on the makeshift table and practically sprinted into his arms. Her lips pressed against his immediately, stopping the laugh that rumbled through his chest as he welcomed her eagerness.

Natasha relaxed in his arms, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist and caressed her hands against his body as much as she could. She ran her fingers through his hair, stroked his cheeks, squeezed his shoulders and scraped her nails against his back.

“Jesus, Nat…” He whispered hoarsely as she began a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his jaw. She sucked with a bit of pressure against the hollow of his neck, receiving a satisfied groan and he tilted his head back, granting her the access she wanted.

She nibbled on the spot underneath his ear, the skin was sensitive, full of nerves that loved the feel of her smooth tongue. He grunted, squeezing her ass in response to the satisfaction she was gifting him.

Steve held her tightly, but careful not to hurt her. It wasn’t fair that she was the only one that was naked, but by god did her mouth on his skin felt wonderful.

“Put me down,” she breathed out, slightly panting as the passion turned her into a frenzied mess. He obliged, gently placing her in front of him and she gulped, staring at him with dark eyes. “Take your clothes off.” Her voice was low and hoarse, completely sexy.

He flashed her a cheeky grin as he reached for the hem of his shirt. “Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes, gnawing on her bottom lip as she watched him anxiously, wishing that he would just rip his shirt off. They had done that before and it was probably more pornographic than anything she had ever experienced before.

Maybe it was the strength he exerted or just the fact that he was in need of her body just as much as she needed his. Either way, it was hotter than sin.

He quickly kicked his jeans off and she licked her lips hungrily. He smiled, boyish and charming as he began to slide his boxers off and she held back a groan.

Steve Rogers was not a virgin. He was not a prude; he was a tease and he was damn good at it.

“Steve!”

He laughed, kicking his boxers to the side and reached for her. She danced into his arms, the movement graceful and sensual. His lips welcomed hers enthusiastically and she moaned into his mouth as his hands began to explore the curves he loved so much.

His fingers brushed over the bullet wound scar and she shivered, biting his bottom lip before he swiped his tongue over hers. It became a dance of tongues and lips; a tango of kisses and unspoken I love you’s.

Steve slid his hand over the curvature of her ass, squeezing it tightly, probably leaving a red mark behind, before he slid his hand further down to lift her thigh. She sighed in bliss as he lifted her off the ground and gracefully managed to kneel them unto the floor.

A lazy smile framed her full lips and he crawled over her body, kissing her gently, almost reverently. His hands cupped her hips, caressing them gently as he kneeled over her, kissing and licking his favourite freckles and moles.

When his lips brushed over her scars, she hissed in a breath, arching her body off the cold floor and silently begging him to get her out of her misery.

He might have been a captain, but he followed her orders without question. Steve trailed a line of teasing kisses down her body, down her stomach, skipping over her centre, down her thighs and calves and stopping at her ankles.

She gave out a soft giggle – although Natasha didn’t giggle, it was the sexiest little laugh she could possibly give him. But his lips were soft, and her skin was sensitive and ticklish.

Natasha closed her eyes, relaxing against the floor as she tried to focus her attention on the torturous but pleasurable foreplay and Steve smirked when she moaned as his inquisitive fingers found a weak spot between her thighs. He didn’t touch where she needed him to touch, but he teased around, loving the winces and lip-biting she did.

He crawled back up, resting the side of his cheek against her thigh before slowly spreading them apart. Her eyes snapped open and she glanced up at him with need and please-fuck-me-already eyes.

Finally – right before she was ready to beg – he pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh. She gulped, raising her hips in hopes that he stopped teasing and went straight for her centre. He did just that.

There was no warning, no preparation for his hot tongue spreading her lower lips apart. He had been so gentle when he kissed down her body, working her up to exasperation, but when he finally licked at the spot, she was a goner.

Her eyes rolled back, and her heels rolled up and down against the floor as he held her thighs down, devouring her like a starving man. His lips were ruthless – gentle, yes, but ruthless because they kissed and licked everywhere but her clit.

He glanced up at her, smiling at her when her eyes snapped open. He stopped, and she needed to desperately climax. An almost primal look overcame his features as he raised her hips and brought her lower body up to him. Her legs dangled over his shoulders as he burrowed his face between her legs.

His tongue was a gift from the gods, there was no other logical explanation that made sense. He knew where to tease, where to suck and what to avoid in order to bring her to the brink of wanton desire.

Natasha whimpered, clenching her fists tightly when the first orgasm hit. It was quick, like lightning striking her body and warming her. She squirmed and cried out, arching her back as he continued kissing her pussy through the orgasm.

As the ecstasy died out, she smiled up at him content and satisfied. She expected him to lay her down again and kiss her before finally fucking her against the floor. Not because he was satisfied with getting one orgasm from her, but because they had other plans in mind.

But it seemed that her plans didn’t quite match with his plans.

He smirked, watching as she pushed back her red locks and breathed in heavily before sliding his tongue down her slit slowly. It was a languid lick, the type that made her toes curls and her heart threaten to burst in her chest.

Steve held her hips, squeezing gently before continuing his gentle veneration. He had attacked her pussy at first, passionate and quick as he tried to get her to orgasm. But this time he was taking his time, he knew she was sensitive and overstimulation wasn’t that pleasurable.

He pressed a soft peck against her clit, making her laugh lazily and quietly before he began to lap at her wetness. That time her orgasm built up, cascading like a wave crashing into sharp rocks; it left a buzzing sensation afterwards, like the seafoam that adorned the metaphor.

“Steve,” she almost cried, “the paint is going to get cold.”

He nodded, slowly lowering her legs and she sighed. Her cheeks were flushed, a pretty rosy colour overtaking her features. It was a beautiful contrast to her skin; the red hair and the green eyes were definitely going to be his undoing. Her lips, her tongue, her laugh, her everything was going to undo him.

She pulled him down, entwining her fingers into his hair and she sighed against his mouth. God, she loved him. “We have about five minutes. The paint dries fast, so you better make this quickie really good.”

“What?” He sounded a bit indignant, “I am not-”

Natasha laughed, sitting up to kiss him quiet. “You act like you haven’t fucked me in a shorter amount of time.”

He scowled, the memory flashing in his mind quickly. He hadn’t meant to fuck her against the wall of that dingy alleyway! She just knew which buttons to push and how to play him like a marionettist.

“A quickie doesn’t mean you have performance issues, Rogers,” she teased, rolling on her back to force herself up. Every time he gave her an orgasm, she felt a little wobbly afterwards. She just hoped that the Avengers never had to assemble after he made her cum. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to slip into the catsuit.

“That’s not my problem,” he smiled, a bit amused, “I just want to worship you.”

She rolled her eyes, reaching into the bowl to take the paint. The water was a little cooler now and she hoped that they hadn’t spent too much time fooling around. “You do that enough. Now I want you to fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He let out a little growl as she smirked and pointed at the cotton canvas for him to lay on.

She squeezed the white paint on his chest first, grinning widely as he watched her intently. He loved her so much he could never get enough of her smile. Her sweet smile turned wicked as she lowered the tube down his body to squeeze it over his navel and the short patch of fuzzy hair above his dick.

Natasha sat over him, letting out a melodious laugh when his dick jumped at her touch. “Hey there, little soldier.” Steve scowled. “Okay, he’s anything but little. How about ginormous-”

“Natasha!”

She threw her head back, laughing and he quickly sat up, reaching for the blue paint next to them. In a swift movement, she found herself trapped under him. Her laughter caught in her throat as he squeezed the paint over her breasts and down her stomach.

He stopped to spread the paint over her body, squeezing her pink nipple as he coloured it blue and licked and kissed the other without any paint. She moaned, arching her back so that his palm was pressed firmer against her breast and bit her bottom lip as he nibbled the skin between his four front teeth.

Steve pulled back to admire his handiwork and she smirked, eyes glued to his chest and how delicious it looked with white paint dripping down. He pressed his palm on her breast, leaving behind the handprint and she grinned.

“Mhm,” she hummed in approval at the little territorial mark.

He chuckled, low and throaty, and pressed his painted hand against her cheek. She let out a soft laugh at the slightly sticky sensation and pulled him down on her closer with her legs. With a triumphant grin, she managed to flip them over, so that he was on his back again and she squeezed the rest of the white paint on him.

Strands of her red hair were sticking to her cheek with the paint and even though she looked messy, she was even more beautiful. The blue seemed to contrast breathtakingly against her skin. But his admiration of her could just be extreme since he was madly in love with her.

Once she finished the white tube, she grabbed the red and squeezed it over him in a zig-zag motion. He laid his hands against her hips, just watching as she concentrated on the artwork with a small smile on his lips. She made him inexplicably happy.

The tube made a flatulence-like noise and she let out an immature laugh. Steve joined in, loving how harmonious and different it was. Everyone was so used to the quiet Natasha, the Natasha that stayed in the shadows waiting for the moment to strike.

But this? This was his Natasha.

The Natasha that laughed at his silly jokes and teased him endlessly about his age. The Natasha that absolutely adored being cuddled and kissed and reserved her special smiles for him.

Soon the three colours were spread on the canvas as laughter turned into moans and kisses served as a form of communication between the two lovers. Handprints covered the corners as ecstasy filled their bodies.

The kisses that began as playful and teasing banter turned into frantic passion. Their orgasm was dancing right above their fingertips, just above their reach as they rolled around the red, white and blue canvas.

When she read about the product, she expected to be fucked on the floor. Steve had other ideas, though and she wasn’t about to let him get his way. He was trailing his red-covered finger over her breast softly, not exactly with the sexual intent she expected.

“You know,” she drawled, tilting her head back to look at him, “I bought this thinking that you were going to fuck me on it.”

He chuckled, propping himself on his elbow to scoot closer to her. “You’re bossy.” He kissed her though, sparking the passion between them again in a second.

His fingers skimmed down, reaching between her thighs and he began to rub her gently, eliciting out moans and grunts from her. She bit her bottom lip, arching her back off the canvas and held his shoulders as he slid a finger in gently.

Her body welcomed it eagerly, expanding and appreciating the newfound pressure. A gasp escaped her lips as he added another finger and then another and she found herself bucking her hips against his hand wildly. She was right there!

Steve admired the way her breasts trembled and shook with every movement and he found himself entranced by her body yet again. Her lips parted, her cheeks became hollow as she moaned low and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh my god!”

He slid his fingers out, rubbing the wetness against her clit to continue the stimulation, but she quickly shook her head and gasped out, “Fuck me.” Natasha reached down grabbing his hard dick and rubbed it affectionately before guiding him to her entrance.

Steve groaned, almost a mixture of a moan and a growl as her heat embraced him. It was like a warm welcome home after being outside in the freezing temperatures of winter. Natasha hissed a breath underneath him as her body accommodated to the needed intrusion.

He slowly adjusted his posture, pulling out and she bit her bottom lip, glancing up at him with pleading green eyes. He leaned over her, holding most of his weight with his forearm and began to thrust slowly.

Blindly he searched for her mouth, wanting to kiss her and feel her plump lips against his. She groaned and hissed, shifting her hips as she tried to intensify the pleasure for them both. He pulled back just as she tried to kiss him, making her teeth graze against his jaw and he moaned in surprise at the sensation it sent through him.

Natasha smiled, continuing her ministrations down his neck and kissing any spot of his skin that she could reach in the position they were in.

“Christ, Nat…” He groaned, hoarse and deep, full of lust and satisfaction at the amalgamation of love and desire. “I love you.”

She shivered, reaching up to hold onto him tighter. Her nails left long, red marks down his back, making the paint she had playfully smeared on his back, accumulate under fingernails. The sensation, although slightly painful, was a good feeling. “Me too.”

He loved watching her unwind and lose herself in their passion.

Natasha nodded frantically, making her painted hair move all over the paint on their canvas as she licked the small bead of sweat on her upper lip. “God, Steve, me too!”

Her arms tightened around him as she desperately sought to make the almost non-existent space between them even smaller. She didn’t want to know where her body began and where his ended; she wanted to become one with him in mind, body and soul.

Steve pressed his forehead against the bow of her shoulder, right by her collarbone and panted against her skin with every thrust and shift of his hips. She was hot and wet and so familiar. She was home and he would never be able to get enough of her.

“I’m close,” he panted lowly, right by her ear. His warm breath tickled the hypersensitive skin under her earlobe and she shivered under him, biting her lip and moaning when he hit that spot.

His fingers reached down, trying to make her reach her climax with him, and he rubbed her centre gently, but with enough pressure to earn encouraging moans.

The way his name left her mouth was perfection in itself. It was a plead, a prayer, an appreciation for having him in her life.

She thought that their relationship would ruin him, but she quickly found that it was her that would end in ruin – and she had never been more prepared to meet her destruction with opened arms.

Her orgasm was quick and glorious. She shivered and made inhuman noises to express just how good he made her feel. Steve grunted, jerking unsteadily as he felt his orgasm ricocheting through him.

The aftershocks came shortly after. He stumbled forward, pressing his full weight on her and she smiled, closing her eyes as the serenity and blissfulness satiated her.

Slowly she raised her hands to caress the muscles on his back. Even Michelangelo would never be able to sculpt someone like Steve Rogers. Her fingers threaded through his hair and he sighed in happiness.

A few minutes later, Steve stood up and looked down at her with mirthful eyes. She was covered in his handprints and mixed paint. Her face was flushed, and her hair was sticking to the paint on her cheeks. Right underneath her bottom lip was a smudge of paint and she smiled up at him like the vixen she was.

“See something you like, Rogers?”

He smiled, lending her a hand to help her up and gently captured her lips in a soft kiss. “This is by far the best painting I’ve ever done.”

She laughed, loud and happy, and it made his smile widen into a grin. He loved seeing her happy. “Come on, get in those slippers and let’s wash this off.”

He happily obliged, following her into the shower like a trained pup. The reason why they were in the shower had been messy, but the shower turned into another mess all in itself. It was full of wondering hands and coquettish laughter. The paint had dried on their skin, making the cleaning process a little hard, but it definitely made the time spent inside the bath unforgettable.

Natasha walked out just as Steve finished rolling the plastic covering into a ball to wash out later. He was wearing a pair of loose-fitted grey sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and she leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom to admire the way his muscles contracted and adjusted to his movements.

She wolf-whistled, making him turn back to look at her with a boyish beam. “So, Mr. Big Artiste-” another reference that he understood, “-what do you think of our artwork?”

Steve smiled down at their creation and wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her in to kiss her temple gently and murmured, “I think it’s a masterpiece.”

Natasha nodded, wrapping her hand around his waist as she leaned into his embrace and looked down at the messy kaleidoscope of colours. “I think we should name it God Bless America!”

He snorted, blushing at the sexual undertones she managed to add to the phrase. Only Natasha Romanoff could make that sound dirty.

“Get it?” She grinned cheekily, “Because-”

“I get it, Nat,” he interrupted, giving her a pointed look but the corners of his lips were rising in a happy smile.

Her green eyes brightened, and she turned to him. “No! I know what we should call it!”

“What?”

“Cold War.”

He frowned. “Why?”

She smiled deviously, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his as she whispered, “Because that’s when America fucked the shit out of Russia.”

His boisterous laughter was the only response she received.

#steve rogers fic #Natasha Romanoff fic #stevenat #capwidow #romanogers #smut #I know that America and Russia didn't fight in the Cold War but let's just pretend her joke makes sense #I mean I guess we can count the moon landing? Russia probably felt a little bummed

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riddle-me-this-mr-nygma-blog · 7 years ago

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The Stark Internship (Part 3)

“Y/N?” I looked up to the boy in the mask. “You have a really pretty smile, you know?” I felt a blush creep across my cheeks, looking down to the pad. “Why’re you blushing?”

“So, I’m thinking, keep the spider on the chest, but we’ll go smaller, and I think I’ll put some controls in it” I thought out loud, copying the spider from Peter’s suit onto the drawing, but much smaller. “People will soon learn your name, you won’t need a massive spider to let them know”

Peter and I began work on the suit, extending the red from his chest down the arms. We decided to include a black stripe, which would spiral around his arm subtly, leading to the web shooters. We talked about trivial things, musical tastes, food preferences and favourite subjects growing up as I sketched through the design.

“Do you mind, if I asked about the song they played in music today. I assume it reminds you of your parents” He asked quietly, taking a shaky breath. I nodded then looked down.

“It’s just hard. 7 years on and still that song… god. When you hear something, and it reminds you of someone you lost… there’s nothing you can do to stop the pain that it brings, and” I took a shaky breath as Peter reached out, placing his hand on my leg. I looked down and smiled gently. “Tony knows how it feels, to some extent. He was much older than me, and he lost both. But to lose a parent, it’s something no kid can get over” I sighed.

“My parents died when I was six” Peter dropped, “car accident” he elaborated, making another sob escape my throat. “Ben was shot, by a robber that I let escape” he added. “I know what it’s like to lose the people you love, and even to blame yourself”

He held onto me tightly, just combing his fingers through my hair.

“I lie and say I never knew my mum, in reality, she and my father both died in a car accident” I looked up to Peter, I didn’t need to see his face to know he was sympathetic. “I was in it too…” I sighed, looking down.

“Your accident…” he muttered, I nodded to myself. “you don’t need to talk about it”

“I do, I need to tell someone that isn’t Tony or Happy” I ran my hand through my hair before letting out a sigh. “I don’t want to be here… Tony said I missed so much by not going to school, I don’t think I did, I don’t miss the days being free of staring, taunting…” I sighed and pushed the glasses further up my nose.

“School sucks, but we’ve got three years left and then we’re done. You’ve already got a job for life, and either way you’re too smart not to get one immediately. I’ll find something, just to get me by, because I just want to help people” he sighed gently. I nodded and turned to Peter, smiling. We’re so young, but he’s right. I’ve got my job, the job I’ll do for the rest of Tony’s time as Iron Man, and he’s Spider-Man, no matter what he does, Peter is a good person, and he’s a strong, grown guy.

“We were going to an interview, for a private school. From very young, my parents knew I was different, they knew I understood things far advanced than other children my age, I remembered everything ever said to me, everything I had seen. This school, it was founded for extraordinary children. I don’t know how they found me, my parents hid my gifts from those around. We were nearly there, and…” I took a breath, and Peter squeezed my thigh gently. I nodded and smiled to him before continuing.

“A truck ran a stop sign, it hit my mother’s side, she died on impact, dad had broken bones all on his right side, but he was alive. The truck overturned, it had corrosive materials, alongside other things… illegal things” Peter gasped and I nodded, he took my hand in his free one, holding tightly, which calmed my nerves. “I got out, running to my dad. I was a kid, there was nothing I could do, but I wanted to save him, I was so scared. I opened the door and he was unconscious, I somehow got him out, and laid him on the road, I was crying, screaming. Trying anything to wake him up… finally he did, just as the explosion happened. The last thing I saw was his brains hitting my face, alongside the materials and fuel” I heard Peter’s shaky breath, but he didn’t say a word. I swallowed and wiped away a tear, squeezing tightly on his hand.

“His phone rang, and I was in so much pain… I couldn’t see, but I picked it up, answering… it was Tony. I screamed down the phone, and he knew. He could hear the pain, I couldn’t get anything out, just the screams that ripped through my throat. He got JARVIS to track down the phone, and he flew there. Tony arrived before an ambulance could. I remember him prying me from what was left of my dad’s torso. I clung to him, and I never let go, not even when they flushed and tested my vision” I bit into my lip and fiddled with the ring Tony had given me, his mother’s ring.

“That’s why Tony is so protective, why he pulled you out of school and why he trusts you with so much” I nodded and sat upright in my seat. Peter let go of my hand, his arm wrapping around my waist as he pulled me closer, his stool wheeling closer to me, as he hugged me tightly.

“He was there when the doctors said I would never see again, he fought the courts to have custody of me. They believed he was unfit to care for me because of his lifestyle… Tony proved that there would be no-one better. He adjusted everything in his life for me.” Peter nodded and I could tell he was smiling “He even launched his own investigation, I don’t know how much he spent, but there was a team of investigators… It turns out it was some mob, moving nuclear weaponry. The route was not often used anymore so they used it to move products”

“What did he do?” Peter asked quietly, I chuckled.

“Have a guess, this is Tony Stark” I looked at the suit and smiled to myself, we’d already come up with so much, pretty much completing the aesthetic parts.

“So, when you first went blind… how did you adjust?” peter asked another of his many questions. I chuckled and shrugged.

“How does anyone adjust, you have to. At first Tony got me a stick, which I hated. But it helped me with my spatial awareness, I learnt echolocation and how to read braille. Happy and Tony allowed for me to learn to better use my touch senses, also helping me to learn Happy’s face, and his expressions” I smiled and watched as Peter’s head tilted.

“I never knew Happy before, he’s always known me as Tony’s blind tag along” I smirked.

“How do you learn expressions?” Peter asked and I smiled. “Like, do you guess based on what you remember?”

“Close your eyes” I whispered, “have you closed them?” I asked and Peter nodded, I took his hands in mine, removing the gloves before gently placing them on my cheeks. “Forget what you remember about me, feel, tell me what you notice” I whispered. “Don’t think, just say what you feel” I relaxed my face and closed my eyes, feeling his hands graze across my skin.

“Your cheeks are warm, warmer than the rest of your face. The skin is smooth, and soft. You haven’t had acne issues” he noted and I nodded gently. His fingers slowly moved higher, sliding quickly over my glasses, taking them off and running the fingertips across the tip of my nose, tracing the shapes of my eyes. “You have a slight bump, probably from the glasses you wear” I smirked and he ran a thumb across my eyebrow.

“What do they tell you?” I asked and felt him shrug.

“Nothing, you have eyebrows” he laughed. I shook my head, pulling the glasses from my face, watching as the faint details faded to black once more.

“Take off the mask, I can’t see. I’ll show you” He nodded and his hands retracted, I heard the static material of his mask slide over his hair, and Peter lifted my hands to his cheeks. “warm, you’re blushing. This is very intimate for you, something you aren’t used to. Unsurprisingly” He smiled and my thumb grazed along his jawline. “Smooth, but not shaven, you haven’t started growing facial hair yet. The mask makes your face very warm, you’re not completely comfortable in it yet. It irritates your skin” He nodded.

My fingertips moved higher, to his forehead, I quickly felt over it and bit into my lip, my hands moving to the corner of his eyes. “Your skin is tense over your forehead, a sign of youth, but the corners of your eyes have small, almost unnoticeable wrinkles, you crinkle your eyes when you smile and laugh, which you do a lot” he nodded and I took a deep breath, grazing my thumb over his lips. “smooth, soft. You lick your lip a lot, but not your top lip. Probably when you’re in deep thought, an innate habit”

“You’re good at this” he laughed and I nodded, sitting back. I waited until Peter pulled the mask back on before putting my glasses back on.

“I did research into it, as I do with everything. It turns out, when you lose a sense, that sector of the brain doesn’t just turn off. It adjusts, it compensates, taking in more sensory information from other receptors. Auditory ques are registered in the visual part of my brain, that’s why the small change of wind when you smile is still registered. I know expressions based on the wind, the warmth, the sound sometimes” He let out a sigh and nodded.

“That’s incredible” I smirked then looked down to the page, tracing my finger over the lines. “that’s how you knew I was lying when we met?” I nodded and he chuckled. “So I can’t lie to you?” I shook my head.

“Not even about that girl you like” He sat back quickly, took in a breath and I smiled. “I won’t tell her, I’m blind, so what would I know” I chuckled and he slapped my arm gently. “So, tell me about her?”

“She’s smart, and kind, but I don’t know if I would want to go anywhere with it… I don’t think we would work, as much as I would love for it to” He contemplated.

“Good, but Peter… if you want this” I motioned to the suit. “You need to really think about it… because dating this girl, it would put her in danger, a lot of danger. Its why Tony and Pepper ended, its why Tony and I have never officially revealed how we know one another. Only Happy actually knows”

“How do you, I assumed your dad worked for Tony” Peter muttered and I nodded.

“Everyone who heard the story did. Gregory Howard wasn’t a name many people would know, because he dropped his surname. My father was Tony’s twin, the older twin. Named after an Uncle and his Father. Dad dropped the Stark name after his parents died, he didn’t want anything to do with Stark industries, but he still loved his brother, even though they lived completely different lifestyles. My father had a small house, married his childhood sweetheart. He had a child and worked in accounting for Stark Industries. He calculated Tony’s funds” Peter gasped and I shrugged.

“But your name…” he pointed and I nodded.

“My mother’s maiden name, she never changed her name after marriage, and they agreed to not name me my father’s name, because of the onslaught that would come with it” Peter nodded and I smiled. “We had a simple life at first, until the accident. I didn’t even understand why Uncle Ant would come and go so randomly. I was just happy to see him, because he was fun. He brought fun toys” I smiled.

“Tony must have loved it” I nodded, “a smart niece to play with”

“Tony hates kids, but he loved me, from the day I was born… Tony would visit at least once a week, always bringing me toys, and books. He bought me my first calculator when I was one. He would read fusion theory to me at bedtime” Peter laughed and I nodded, remembering my old house. “Dad hated it, he didn’t want me to be involved in Stark Industries, not while they were distributing weapons. If he knew what Tony did now, I think dad would have accepted it” I could feel his smile and the warmth coming from Peter, even from his distance.

“Your father would be proud, no matter what you did” Peter whispered and I sighed.

“I hope so, I do everything I can to make him proud” Peter wrapped an arm around me and squeezed me against this chest gently. I smiled.

“I’m sorry for what happened earlier. I know things have been rough for you. I think I know what you’re feeling. You’ve been going through a lot of difficult things, with not having your father and all. Well, take it from an old man. Those things send us down a road. And I know that whatever road you’ll end up on, you’ve got great things waiting for you, son. So, come on home, Peter. You’re my hero, and I love you” Peter whispered, I looked to him and he pulled out his phone. “The voicemail Ben left me, it’s the last thing he said to me, and I’ll never delete it” he put the phone away and let out a sigh.

“What happened, I know you said he was shot?” Peter nodded, I bit into my lip and he sighed. The smell of salt flooded my nose and I frowned, he was crying. I reached up, quickly wiping away the tear. “It’s okay Pete, you don’t need to talk about it”

“We had an argument, over something so stupid. I was stupid, I went out to ‘save the world’ and forgot a promise I made to him. He confronted me about it, like he should have. But I got mad, I was annoyed because he didn’t know what I was doing. Now I see he was right, I should have been there for May… but I walked out, it was late, and dark. Ben came looking for me. I saw a man robbing some place, I can’t even remember where it was… I didn’t stop him. Ben tried, he wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t even fit. He was an old man doing the right thing, what I didn’t do. And he was shot for trying to stop something I could have” Peter let out a shaky breath and I smiled weakly to him, not even sure how to console him.

“I held him as he died, he knew I was there, he whispered my name, just before he died. I went after the guy, I haven’t found him yet, but I won’t stop looking. Ben told me once, something my father stood by, something he stood by. It’s what I will always aspire to stand by, and why I will always be Spider Man” I raised an eyebrow and Peter smiled. “He believed that if you could do good things for other people, you had a moral obligation to do those things” Peter let out a shaky breath and I took his hand in mine, squeezing lightly.

“He said that in the argument, didn’t he?” Peter nodded and I sighed.

“and I threw it back in his face, I asked where dad was, why he wasn’t telling me himself. It hurt Ben so much, and I’ll never be able to take that back” Peter whispered, I sighed and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t pretend to know how it must feel, but Ben loved you Peter, as did your mum and dad… they all loved you, they knew you would grow up to be an amazing man. More than anything, Ben knew you loved him” I muttered, softly. Hearing his shaky breathing, and the sobs that caught in his throat.

“May tells me to stop carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders” He smiled, I nodded and let out a sigh.

“you should, it’s a dangerous thing Peter” He raised an eyebrow and I frowned. “It’s nothing, just thoughts of a concerned girl” I mumbled then stood up. “Drink? I’ve got juice, water?” I asked casually and peter shook his head. I quickly got a glass of water before sitting down and smiling to the boy in front of me. “you can change out of it now, if you want. I’m getting a headache” I mumbled, Peter nodded and walked out. “What are you doing to me Tony?” I groaned, slouching back.

My phone rang, and I quickly picked up, holding it to my ear.

“Sorry to call so unexpectedly miss, but things are moving fast. I think Tony is planning something soon. In Germany, he knows our plans to move Bucky to an isolated location” Steve mumbled, clearly trying to be quiet on his end.

“Yeah, I’ve heard him bringing up Germany” I heard Peter hiding behind the door. “Listen, I can’t talk too much right now, I’ve got a friend round. I’ll speak to you later, if you’re free?”

“Sure, just call me on this phone. I’ll be with Bucky all night” he responded before quickly hanging up. I put the phone in my pocket.

“Peter, you know you can’t sneak up on me” I called out, he walked around the corner, chuckling nervously.

“Who was that?” he asked shyly. “You were talking about Germany?” I nodded quickly before smiling.

“My only friend from Malibu, talking about planning a holiday… we want away from Tony. So, we’re planning on staying away from where he might be” I chuckled and smiled. “Otherwise my holiday will be spent with Tony telling me not to do things”

“You won’t be going to Germany with him?” I shook my head and he frowned. “Damn, I was hoping I’d at least have a friend with me” he laughed, making my heart drop slightly.

“Tony wouldn’t even let me near the country. I wouldn’t want to go anyway if you are. Even if we both asked. You’re definitely going then?” he nodded and I sighed.

“What?” he asked, sitting beside me.

“I don’t want you to, it’s dangerous. I’m worried Tony is going to get you killed” Peter hummed quietly and I bit into my lip. “You’re not ready for this kind of task. Have you ever killed someone Peter?” He shook his head. “Because everyone there has, most of them have killed more than a dozen… hell. You’re going to be fighting Steve Rogers, and he’s the most moral man, but at his age… just think about how many he killed in the war, hydra? When the avengers first came together, how many aliens attacked?” Peter nodded and I let out a groan.

“then the three hydra hele carriers, they can hold up to 3000 people on each. I’ll give Steve the credit that they only had skeleton crews, but that’s 700 a piece. 2100 hydra agents he killed that day, probably alongside a few other people. Don’t think he’s a killing machine, I mean I like Steve. We get on quite well, even if Tony hates it. Steve doesn’t like killing, he hates it, but if its kill or someone else will get killed. He will do anything to protect the people”

“Do you think he’ll try to kill me?” I shook my head.

“He’ll know you’re a kid, Steve isn’t stupid. He’ll also know this was Tony’s plan, use a kid to distract him. Steve will hate this as much as I do. He doesn’t want young people involved in saving the world, hell if it were up to him then it would only be him and tony having this confrontation. He doesn’t want people involved” Peter nodded and I sighed. “My uncle is much more dangerous anyway, I’m worried about Steve”

“You think Mr Stark will hurt the Captain?” I nodded.

“I love my uncle, but Steve hasn’t nuked an entire alien population, Tony hasn’t ever shown any fear over killing someone to get his job done. He wont hold back just because he worked alongside these people. They are just another enemy to him now, standing in the way of what he wants” Peter bit into his lip and I ran a hand through my hair. Just be careful Pete, this war, it will have casualties” I took a deep breath, looking straight ahead.

“are you worried about me?” he asked with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, but don’t let that go to your head spiderling” Peter laughed. “I see so much potential in you, not as a hero but as a person. Tony doesn’t see Peter, he sees a distraction in the fight” the boy next to me nodded and I sighed.

“Do you think I’ll get hurt? Or..” he trailed off, too worried to say what he was thinking.

“I don’t know. Honestly Peter, with this war. I can’t guess who will make it out, but I don’t think it’s going to end well. I’m just hoping Tony comes back” I mumbled, Peter’s breath caught in his throat. “Even if he doesn’t get injured, how do I know he’ll still be uncle Ant when he comes back from this all?” I asked quietly, Peter placed a hand on my shoulder and sat in the seat beside me.

“Mr Stark isn’t going to get hurt, and he isn’t going to change” Peter whispered and I rolled my eyes. “I promise, I will make sure he does” I shook my head quickly and stood up,

“No, Peter. Forget I said anything. Nothing was discussed. You forget what I said about Tony and we never talk about it again” I quickly snapped, walking to my desk and shutting the notebook. “We aren’t friends, I’m here to watch over you and mould you into a hero, don’t start trying to be my friend” I mumbled.

“But, I thought-“ I cut peter off by letting out a sigh.

“What, that by some miracle the young girl Tony brought along just happened to want to start school, with you, the next day… this is a part of his plan okay. He wants us to be friends, he wants you to fall in love with me, because he knows that if you did, you’d do anything for him, to keep me happy” I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

“I think it would be best if you just went Pete, I’m not in the mood to be dealing with Tony’s shit tonight” I snapped, not saying another word. I heard Peter gathering his things, his breathing uneven and his heartrate getting faster as each moment passed. He walked to the door, stopping as his hand held the handle.

“I don’t think Mr Stark was trying to get me to fall in love. I think he wants you to” Peter whispered.

“Why would he do that, I’m broken Peter. I’ll never have a normal life, and even if I could… why would he want me to date someone with powers? He sees what it did to him and pepper, to my family. He would never want me to fall in love with you Peter” I mumbled, keeping my back to the young boy behind me.

“At least you decided that early, before we could start caring about each other” he breathed, before quickly walking out of the room. I groaned and fell back into the sofa, burying my face into the cushion. I pulled out my phone and dialled the first person I could think of.

“Rogers, what can I do for you?” He spoke, cheerfully.

“Hi Cap. I need to talk to you, is an hour good?” I asked softly, not wanting to sound suspicious.

“Yeah, same building?” I hummed and closed my eyes tightly. “You okay kid?”

“Yeah, just need time away from Tony and the Spider… I realised there a lot more to Tony’s plan, not to hurt you though” I sighed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve offered, looking across the roof as I landed. “Spider?” he asked softly.

I looked around, listening out for anyone suspicious. “We’re clear. No Stark spies around” I smirked.

“Okay, that’s going to need explaining… but first, you called about Tony and some Spider?” Steve asked, I nodded and shifted in my seat.

“Tony’s up to something, and I’m not completely sure what, or who it’s supposed to affect. But I just know he’s trying” Steve cocked an eyebrow. “He was so determined for me to meet this guy, to come with him, he used the excuse of our ages… but he enrolled me into this boy’s school, and I know for a fact he paid them off so I would be in all his classes. He wants me to design his suit, and even…” I bit into my lip, trying to figure out what to call Peter.

“We’ll call him Tom, for sake of conversation” Steve offered, I nodded quickly.

“Even Tom asked me to help design his suit, not aware that Tony had already requested it. And he’s rushing it. Tony wants the suit done by next Monday. But, today with Tom… it’s like, we’re quickly becoming friends, and he even offered to ensure Tony came home safe, so I wouldn’t worry about Tony coming home safe… I’m not sure if Tony’s doing it to get P-Tom to be a sacrificial lamb, or if he’s trying to keep me distracted so I don’t try to end it before the battle begins” I ran a hand through my hair and Steve let out a sigh.

“You know what I think?” Steve asked, and I shrugged lightly. “I think, Tony doesn’t understand. I think he probably has brought you together to get Tom to be more willing to fight beside him, but only because he knows the boy will fall for you, and I assume Tom knows who Tony is to you?” I nodded.

“Tom falling in love with you would only do Tony more good, because he would fight harder to protect you. I don’t think Tony planned it that way, but it’s how it seems it might play out. But I think, in all honesty, I think Tony might just have brought you along because he found someone like you, someone that can keep up with that brain of yours” Steve tapped my temple and I chuckled. “Seriously kid, I think he just wants you to be happy, and feel like a normal teenager for once”

“I doubt it, but I would like to think so” I laughed, making Steve chuckle.

#tom #holland #tom holland #peter #parker #peter parker #tony #stark #tony stark #spider man #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman #marvel #imagine #imagines

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hellomissmabel · 8 years ago

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Teach me how to dance with you (800 followers!)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: ANGST, little bit of fluff, talk of miscarriage.

Word count: 2.222 (hell yeah)

Summary: Steve’s away for another mission and you fall apart. There’s a secret that has been weighing on your shoulders for way too long and you have no idea how much longer you can keep it from Steve.

A/N: 800 FREAKING FOLLOWERS OMG!

A/N without the caps: This is part one to a very random series of mine. It’s based on the song “Teach me how to dance with you” by Causes.

Crude my mind calling right this feeling

You’re my kind of something to believe in

She doesn’t sleep much and it has come to it that even Tony sleeps more than Y/N does. Ever since Steve left on that last mission she’s been all over the place, restlessly tossing and turning in their shared bed and even trashing the bedroom from time to time because without her Steve, the nightmares keep buzzing likes bees inside her head. The entire floor has become a gilded cage of red and gold.

“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?,” Tony chastises as he discovers you probing on his computer, looking for the top-secret document that contains all the latest details on Steve’s whereabouts. “I get that you want to know if he’s safe or not, but this kind of behaviour I cannot tolerate.”

“Tony,” you whine, drawing your lips in a sad pout in a fruitless attempt to get him off your back. “I am going insane, I need him back. I need to know he’s okay.”

Tony moves behind you and swiftly closes the laptop while spinning you around on his desk chair, placing his hands on the arm rests as he draws closer to you until his nose almost touches yours.

“I know,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your forehead as his lips leave a small kiss on the soft skin before an ugly frown corrupts your beautiful features. “I know and I understand, Y/N, but you’ve got to trust Steve. He knows what he’s doing.”

On whose side will you find me hiding

I’m fortified for the battle of the fighting

“The problem lies not with Steve,” you pipe up, painstakingly aware of the depths of your admission. “The problem lies with me, deep in my chest.”

You let out a defeated sigh, pushing Tony further away when he steps aside to give you enough space to slip from his chair and make a run for the nearest exit. Shaking his head slightly, he watches your tired form stalk through the door.

The way from Tony’s office to the personal floor you share with Steve feels longer than usual, the elevator ride up taking what seems to me an eternity before the doors finally slide open. First things first, you drag your feet towards the bedroom and rummage through the closet for that one particular blue shirt that has the blood roaring and pumping in your ears whenever Steve wears it. But tonight he’s not here, so you decide you’ll wear it instead.

Give me everything you got

If it helps to stop the rut

After you’ve slipped the silky fabric over your head, falling comfortingly over your exposed body, you make a beeline for the kitchen and take out that bag of chocolate coated raisins you’ve been eying ever since Wanda gifted them to you yesterday.

It had been officially two weeks since you’ve seen or spoken to Steve and everybody apprehended the hurt radiating in waves off of your wrecked body yet Wanda, being the kick-ass psychic she is, must’ve felt it more than anyone else because she’s been showering you with all these little presents in an attempt to make you feel at least a tiny bit better.

Unfortunately it’s not working.

For a quick minute you contemplated whether to go one floor down to your private workspace and occupy your mind with some writing. But then your thoughts wander to the countless sketches decorating the light grey walls and you have to suppress a gut-wrenching wail before crashing to the floor, holding your legs close to your upper body as you rock back and forth.

Take in and think you’ve got

Could you help me feel you’re pose

“Y/N?” A kind and strong voice carries through the living room with a familiar weight, its tone possessing the warmth of the summer sun. “Y/N, baby, where are you?”

You release a strangled sob and next thing you know, an acquainted body crouches down next to you and envelopes you in his arms. His lips easily find their way to the crown of your head as they peck it reassuringly, murmuring sweet nothings into your hair.

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” Steve exhales slowly before connecting his lips to your temple, then your cheek stained by the wet tears, the salty aftertaste caressing his bottom lip as one stray drop trickles downwards and he catches it with his thumb. It’s never been this bad before, Steve considers, so what is so different about this particular mission that it leaves her fighting for her sanity?

Find the truth in all this false

Could you help me fight them off

You plummet into a deep pit of desperation as the words start to fall from your lips. “I love you and I missed you so much,” you whimper like a child on the first day of school, pleading eyes silently connecting with the electric thunder behind his baby blues. “I love you and I can’t live without you. Please don’t leave me.”

“Y/N,” he begs, his fingers circling your cheeks as he cups your face into his hands. “I am never going to leave you again.”

“I am pathetic. I am not…” The words have formed a lump in your throat, causing you to choke on your sorrow. “I am not the one for you.”

Soft cries fill the air pulled taut and Steve slightly shifts his angle so he can pull you into his lap. “I am never going to leave you. Never, you hear me?,” he promises firmly, followed by a hushed “You are not pathetic, my love. You are mine and mine alone. You are the only one I trust with my heart.” It’s barely audible but his lips are so close to your ear that his dedication is able to fill you to the brim with the love that founded these words.

Teach me how to dance with you

Teach me how to love

“Stay with me?,” you requested tentatively. “Stay with me, Steve.”

“Always. Always and forever, babe.”

“Steve,” you begin again, studying the rush of sentiments crossing his mind. “I don’t mean just for the night. I want you to stay, stay forever.”

“What’s going on, doll?,” he questions worriedly. “Where is this coming from?”

“I am pregnant, Steve,” you admit quietly. “My emotions have been piling up ever since I found out, my body feels so stiff and I believe I pulled a few muscles just by stepping out of the elevator. I am so sore, I don’t feel blessed, I don’t feel like a glowing mother-to-be or whatever you’re supposed to feel like when you’re expecting. I feel like a hot mess instead, or rather just a mess because there’s nothing hot about a pitiful human being like me.”

“Stop that right now, Y/N,” Steve demands, slipping into his authoritative Captain America voice. His voice grows softer when you continue to cry into his tactical gear. “You are the only one for me, doll. I don’t want nor need anyone else, I just live for you. But I guess now I live for two.”

Steve chuckles affectionately and without exchanging more words, Steve hoists you up in his arms and carries your quivering form to the bedroom. The comfortable covers welcome you like an old friend would and Steve quickly sheds himself of his clothes before joining you.

The bed dips under the weight of his chiselled body and as soon as his arm snakes around you waist, gently coaxing you to turn around and face him, your heart melts at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes and tousled dirty blond hair. You hadn’t taken a moment yet to actually look at him and the surprise must’ve been etched on your face because he immediately apologises for the dust littering his full appearance.

So give me what you’ve got

Because this I want it all

Want it all

“Don’t,” you interrupt him causing his admission of guilt to fall on deaf ears. “Steve, there’s something I need to tell you first.”

“Okay,” Steve nods and you distance yourself from, sitting upright with your legs crossed as Steve presses his chest to your back, his face nuzzled in the nape of your neck. “I’m listening,” he hums against your skin. The news of your pregnancy comes unexpected but you can feel the happiness coursing through his veins and it makes you sweat like a heatwave.

“It’s not the first time,” you disclose gingerly, resting the back of your head onto his shoulder and locking your eyes with his. Steve kinks an eyebrow and shoots you a confused look. “I’ve been pregnant before,” you clarify and the clear blue sky behind his eyes clouds over with a hurricane of anxiety.

“How? When?” Steve releases a long breath and his hold on your waist loosens. “I don’t – I don’t understand, Y/N.”

“When we were in Wakanda, you had a covert meeting with Tony. That same day I was struck by a high fever and the doctors had to operate me in order to save my life. I found out afterwards that I had been carrying your child. He or she didn’t make it,” you explain softly, your voice laced with an undertone of regret. “The second time I had a miscarriage. If Bucky hadn’t found me, I would’ve bled to death on the kitchen floor.”

You continue to explain to him that once you had recovered from the procedure and you had gained enough strength to continue with your assignments and daily hassles, you had asked Bruce and Tony to run some tests, trying to find an explanation because the loss was eating away at you. You wouldn’t be able to face Steve any time soon if you didn’t find it in you to at least attempt to figure out why you of all people had been hit which such misfortune – twice.

“My immune system is very weak and cannot protect my body properly from any foreign substances. Bruce told me that the opposite is true as well, so when my blood comes in contact with that of the baby, it stimulates an unwarranted protection mechanism. The super soldier serum that runs through your veins also affects any potential new life form that grows inside of me. It’s possible that I will never be able to fully carry to term.” You take a deep breath, your eyes glossing over. “I might lose this child as well.”

Give me what you’ve got

Because I want it all

I’m a little jaded since this fire faded among predicted all

Steve remains quiet, his breathing picking up slightly as his brain tries to process all this new information. He’s like a sponge, soaking it all up until he’s bursting at the seams. “I did this to you,” he finally replies, giving in to the self-hate that mystifies his very being.

Your head shoots up to meet his tormented eyes and you swing your legs around his, straddling his waist. “No, no no no, Steve, don’t do that to yourself. None of it is your fault,” you assure him but he’s not convinced, the doubt only creeping in further and further. “You know what they say right? Third time’s a charm.”

He gives you a pained expression. “Y/N, you’re saying that we might never have children because of the serum. You can’t help it, but I can because it was my choice.” Steve tears his eyes away from yours, coughing in order to get rid of the weight settling in his chest. “Why did you never tell me?”

“Steve,” you answer, sliding your hands up his neck until your fingers lace together. You press a tender kiss to his lips. “I am afraid. I have been afraid for so long, that’s why I didn’t tell you. But I never for one second thought that you were responsible.”

Your voice is but a whisper, but it has a certain strength to it that Steve has never heard before. You’re his fragile girlfriend, you get sick as soon as the temperature drops just a smidge and he needs to keep you away from harm. It’s in his system to protect and serve, but there’s only one woman he has a never-ending duty to and that’s the woman in front of him. “I love you,” he breathes out against your lips. “And I’m so sorry.”

Just teach me how to dance with you

Teach me how to love

Steve’s hands encase your own, the light flickering in his overcast blue eyes. They’re reflective and their elegance comes from a very deep and true place. “We will figure this out together.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You are free to leave, Steve. I don’t mean to chain you to a life you do not want nor deserve,” you say dejectedly, your heart stopping with a violent thud as you hide behind a porcelain smile.

“You are my home. You have no idea what I would give to be with you.” His voice takes on a much darker tone and it’s both as haunting as it is beautiful, oozing a melodic devotion like the incredible, honest love ballad his words appear to be. “You are the most beautiful of us all.”

Part 2 coming soon

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