#clint was a loser and coward in more ways than one

[minecrafttortie]

my hear me out cake (or its barest essentials)

[alwaysmarveling]

Rock Band

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Not too sure how I feel about this one, but it’s Wanda so hopefully you guys enjoy it (also I miss playing Rock Band)!!

“You ready for game night, Bird Boy?” Bucky winked.

“You bet, old man. I’m going to crush you, just you wait.” Sam smiled at Bucky with a glint in his eye and mischief clear in his voice. “You guys coming?” Sam turned to look at you and your girlfriend. “The theme is Wii games. Even Thor is coming.” You looked at Wanda for confirmation before answering.

“Yeah, sounds fun. Don’t know if we have the same need for total domination as you losers, though.” Tony laughed from his position in the chair next to you.

“Just you wait, kiddo. You’ll get into it. They all do.”

“Even if I do, I doubt it’ll be that hard to take a bunch of grandpas down,” you winked at the men before scooping some salad into your mouth.

“Since when am I a grandpa?” Sam scoffed.

“Since you became old, which, according to my calculations, has been… oh, right, always. Grandpa in spirit.”

“Well this grandpa is going to beat your ass, so just prepare yourself,” Sam challenged.

“I personally would like to go back to the ‘losers’ thing,” Steve countered. “The only loser is going to be you. Do you even know what games we’re going to be playing, Y/N?”

“Nah, but I figure whatever it is I’ll win,” you smirked.

“Oh, someone’s feeling cocky today. I’d be scared if I were you.” You turned your head slightly to your right, noting how Wanda’s lips curled upwards at Steve’s warning. “Nat has yet to be defeated in Mario Kart, and I, for one, am pretty decent at Smash Bros.”

“You’re on,” you winked at him, the table beginning to clear out. “See you tonight.”

When everyone had left the table but you and Wanda, you turned to your girlfriend. “I suck at Mario Kart. And Smash Bros,” you whined, burying your face into the crook of her neck. “What got into me?” Wanda laughed and ran a hand down your arm.

“You’re too competitive for your own good, detka. If it makes you feel better, Nat already knows you’re bad at Mario Kart,” Wanda smiled, reflecting on the many game nights the three of you and Carol had had together over the years.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better. I’m going to be a loser,” you complained, your voice muffled.

“You’ll be fine, babe. You’re good at, um... What's that game called again?”

“Mario Party 8?”

“Yeah, that one!”

“I can’t win game night with one game, Wanda.”

“Well, you’re always a winner in my book,” your girlfriend reassured you as she played with your fingers.

“Cute, Wan,” you huffed. “Maybe there is a way I could be a winner…” you smiled. When Wanda began to shake her head furiously, you began to beg. “Please, baby, you don’t have to do a lot. Just distract them a little? Please? Pretty please?”

“As much as I love you, Y/N, there is no way I’m messing with their minds just so you can win a game night.”

“I guess you have a point,” you sighed, making sure the fake sadness was clear in your voice. Wanda only laughed, brushing your cheek with the back of her hand.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Besides, if you win, I can’t kiss away your pout.”

“But if I win, you can kiss me as a little ‘good job,’ you know?”

“You’re cute when you pout, though.”

“Am I not cute when I’m smiling from the pure joy of winning?”

“Weren’t you just saying you didn’t want ‘total domination’ less than five minutes ago?”

“Don’t change the subject,” you grumbled. Wanda chuckled, pressing her lips to your forehead.

“Sorry, printsessa. You’d better go practice if you want to try to win tonight.”

“I suppose,” you mumbled, pulling away from the witch. “You’re going to help me, though, right?” Your girlfriend pecked you on the lips, causing a smile to slowly form on your face.

“Of course.”

---

Later that night, you and Wanda were sprawled across your bed watching the first show that played when you turned on the TV. Your head laid in Wanda’s lap as Wanda traced invisible patterns in your hair and along your face.

“Okay, but why is ‘womb’ pronounced ‘woom’?” you spoke up. “Shouldn’t it be ‘wom’? You know, like ‘bomb’? Or what about ‘tomb’? Why is it pronounced like that? Who said that putting a ‘b’ at the end of the word makes the ‘o’ long for some words but not others?” Wanda brought her gaze down from the screen to your face, her brows furrowed and nose scrunched.

“What the heck even made you think of that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “I’ve just been thinking.”

“Maybe you should be thinking a little less, printsessa,” Wanda giggled, drawing a swirl on your cheek with the tip of her finger.

“That tickles, Wan.” That didn’t stop the witch, who simply pinched your cheek before resuming her tracing. “But I thought you liked my thinking. I have some pretty good thoughts,” you defended yourself, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Like ‘what would happen if the French used the Statue of Liberty like the Trojan Horse?’” Wanda raised her eyebrows.

“It was a hypothetical!”

“A pretty bad one, if you ask me.”

“Well sorry, Miss Smartypants.”

“You can be smart too, dorogaya. You just… have your moments,” she winked at you.

“I hate you,” you grumbled, turning away from her so that you were facing the flashing screen, images playing across it but neither of you really sure—or caring—what was going on.

“You love me.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, I-”

“Guys, game night is starting,” Tony knocked at your door.

“Okay, we’ll be down in a second,” Wanda told him. You didn’t listen for if he had left, instead turning your gazes back to each other.

“Okay, maybe I do love you a little bit.” Wanda raised her brows, her finger now running along your lower lip.

“Only a little?”

“I might be able to be persuaded otherwise, but as of right now, yes, a little.” Wanda hummed before leaning down to join your lips.

“What about now?” she asked, her lips brushing yours as she spoke.

“I love you a medium bit.” She kissed you again, this time a little longer than the last.

“And now?”

“I love you a lot a bit,” you whispered. Wanda smiled, giving you one last kiss before sitting back up.

“I love you a lot a bit too. Now, let’s get down to the living room. I believe we have a bunch of ‘grandpas’ waiting for us.”

---

“Wanda, Y/N, I missed you. How has life been treating you on Earth?” Thor waved at the two of you. You guys had little time to wave back, let alone respond, before Tony spotted you.

“There they are,” Tony clapped his hands together. “We were just about to get started. First on the agenda is Smash Bros because this one,” he aggressively pointed in Steve’s direction, “said he needs to go to bed before 1. Party pooper.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Some of us just don’t want to destroy our entire sleep schedule in one night.” He turned away from Tony to face the two of you, holding out one controller. “We’ve got one spot left, who’s playing?”

---

More than three hours later, the clock read 11 PM and the group of you had made it through several games. As you expected, you hadn’t won anything, but Wanda held her own in Smash Bros and was actually close to beating Nat in Mario Kart at one point (that didn’t last long, but you were proud nonetheless). Thor beat you all at Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games, but with all the jumping and yelling going on at the time, you weren’t sure the tower would hold up long enough for you guys to actually finish the game.

“Are you planning on winning any time soon, Y/N?” Nat winked at you from her spot on the couch, one leg resting above the couch and the other bent at the knee on a cushion.

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed. “You know that I suck at video games.” No one else could hear your conversation with the chaos going on over Cooking Mama. That’s right, Cooking Mama.

“I actually thought you were playing us the first couple game nights. And then I finally realized you were just that bad,” Natasha chuckled, quickly having to dodge the pillow you’d thrown in her direction.

“Would it kill you to sit normally for once?”

“Yes,” she smiled, “Yes, it would.”

“How’re you doing, babe? Not too upset yet?” Wanda joined you on the couch with a peck to your cheek.

“Doing just dandy, Wan. See, I can be a good sport.” The witch laughed.

“I’ll check back in with you in an hour.”

“Hey, ladies, we were going to play Rock Band. You guys interested?” Bucky held up the controllers.

“Who won Cooking Mama?” you asked, a smirk clearly written across your face. Bucky rolled his eyes before responding.

“Clint. Now are you guys joining, or what?”

“Mm, I think I’m going to grab a drink. I’ll enjoy the show for a little bit first,” you winked as you slowly rose from the couch.

“She’s only saying that because she doesn’t want to lose,” Sam scoffed. “Y/N’s just upset she can’t deliver on her promise to beat us all.”

“Just you wait for Mario Party 8, Sam. Just you wait.”

“We don’t have that game,” Bruce whispered to you apologetically. “We let Peter borrow it for the weekend. Sorry, Y/N.”

“Are you serious?” You threw your hands up.

“Coward,” Clint teased, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Oh, calm down, Clint. Rock Band doesn’t even have a winner,” Nat chastised.

“Yes, it does! Whoever gets the highest score wins.” The redhead simply rolled her eyes before winking at you.

“Alright, I’m in. Put me on guitar. You coming, Wan?” Natasha turned to her.

“I’m a bit exhausted from the last game. Soon, though,” the witch promised.

“You want anything, babe?”

“A water would be nice,” Wanda smiled at you. “Thank you, detka.”

“Of course.” You squeezed her hand before heading toward the kitchen.

“How come you didn’t ask any of us if we wanted anything?”

“Okay, Sam,” you turned, crossing your arms, “Do you guys want anything?” A chorus of “no’s” echoed through the room. You shook your head, letting out a puff of air before continuing into the kitchen and grabbing one water for you and your girlfriend.

After a small argument over the song choice, Sam, Bucky, Nat, and Tony were all jamming out to ‘Say It Ain’t So,’ and you couldn’t help but laugh from your position on the couch. Wanda’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you close to her, not that you were complaining. You appreciated the body heat, and her, of course.

Sam did have a pretty decent voice, you had to admit. You didn’t think he’d get so into it, but it was quite entertaining.

Speaking of entertaining, it was extremely difficult to hold in a giggle every time you looked at Bucky. Not that he was bad at it—he was surprisingly very good—but it was obvious he’d spent hours playing this game. Eyes closed, head shaking frantically side to side, and cheeks rosy, one might’ve thought Bucky was actually playing at a concert. You were sure Bucky had his part memorized, which was quite a lot for a guy who was still complaining about all the “confusing, new technology nowadays.”

Nat couldn’t be farther from the opposite of the Winter Soldier. As one might expect, she was hitting every note, but from the look on her face, you had a harder time going up the stairs without tripping than she was having playing the game.

And Tony, well, you didn’t really know what to expect with him, but it certainly wasn’t this. For a guy with all the charisma in the world, you thought he would’ve been more… coordinated. He dropped a drumstick at least twice already, and he could never seem to hit the pedal when he had to use the sticks at the same time.

Unfortunately for you, the song quickly came to a close and a new distraction arose—you.

“Y/N, no avoiding it any longer. C’mon, get up here. Which one do you want to be?” You glanced reluctantly at Wanda before answering. If you wanted to play to win, your best bet was singing, but none of the Avengers, including Wanda, had heard you before, and you were in no rush to change that. At the same time, your girlfriend was right; you definitely had a competitive side to you, and seeing the looks on the guys’ faces when you won would be a glorious sight. But maybe it wasn’t all about winning, after all, Wanda had promised you a kiss…

“Put her on the mic,” Natasha smirked. She removed the strap of the toy guitar from her neck before handing it to Steve. Before you could protest, the microphone was shoved into your hands and someone pushed you towards the front of the room.

“Good luck, Y/N,” you barely heard Wanda call from behind you, more worried about what you were going to do.

“Okay, so, Steve and I will be on guitar and bass, Thor on drums, and Y/N on mic. We ready?” Bucky scanned the room for approval. When everyone except for you nodded, he went to choose a song.

“‘Wanted Dead or Alive?’ Really, Buck?” Steve shook his head.

“It’s a good song,” he shrugged, moving to his spot next to Steve. “Should we show them how it’s done?”

“Ha, funny of you to think you’ll win,” Thor boomed, rubbing the drum sticks together.

“Y/N? You’re awfully quiet.” Sam smirked.

“Oh, shut up, Big Bird. Let’s just get this over with.” The man held up his hands in surrender as he backed away from you slowly.

As the first few measures of the song passed, you made a decision. Screw what the rest of the Avengers thought, you were going for it. You took a deep breath as the words rolled across the screen.

“It’s all the same, only the names will change.” The second you started singing, you heard everyone else go quiet around you. Steve, Bucky, and Thor all stopped playing for a second, and you could practically feel everyone’s mouth drop as you forced your eyes to stay on the screen in front of you.

“Every day, it seems we’re wastin’ away.” Just keep going, you told yourself. As much as you wanted to shrivel up in a corner somewhere far, far away, you had already started this. Might as well finish it.

“Another place where the faces are so cold, I’d drive all night just to get back home.” A whistle erupted from behind you—it had to be Tony—and amongst the hooting and hollering, you smiled, relieved, as the rest of the Avengers seemed to snap back into it.

The rest of the guys got back into the groove, and at one point you weren’t even sure you could hear yourself over Thor’s rather enthusiastic drum playing. You had a hard time not laughing at Bucky when you were watching him earlier, but it was pretty much impossible to not laugh now when you were seeing him with Steve. They were definitely feeding off of each other’s energy, and, wow, was it a sight. You’d never seen them this… loose before. They’d definitely need a comb after this game.

Nevertheless, your teammates’ antics helped you fully relax into the song, and it was over before you knew it. On the last beat of the song, you heard a loud crack and whirled around just in time to dodge part of a drumstick coming straight for your face.

“Thor, what the heck are you doing, man?” The god laughed sheepishly.

“Are you trying to kill my girlfriend?” You glanced over at Wanda, who looked ready to grab Thor around the neck. One stern look from you made her hesitate, but the anger remained obvious in her eyes.

“I guess I got a little caught up in the game. In my defense, your human toys are way too fragile.” After one harsh glare from Wanda, the god swallowed and added, “I apologize, Y/N.”

“Dude, how the heck are we supposed to keep playing with a broken drumstick?” Clint inspected the broken piece, which was at least the size of his palm, passing it from hand to hand.

“Ah, forget it. We can just switch to a different game. Y/N’s would’ve won the rest of the rounds anyway,” Bruce shrugged as he pointed at the screen.

The rest of the Avengers followed his finger, and sure enough, you had finished with a perfect score.

“Okay, Y/N, I’ll give it to you. That was good. How come you never told any of us you could sing?” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Nobody asked me.” You shrugged before handing the microphone to Bruce, allowing the conversation to return to what to do about the broken drumstick and returning to your seat next to Wanda. “Babe, I defeated the grandpas,” you whispered before pushing your face into the crook of her neck. More relaxed now that you were safe next to her, she chuckled, grabbing your hand.

“You did. I thought you would’ve been more excited about it?”

“I’m very happy about it,” you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” she smiled, squeezing your thigh. You whined, prompting your girlfriend to laugh softly and kiss the top of your forehead. “I wouldn’t mind hearing you sing more often. You’re a good singer, malyshka.”

“Thanks,” you muttered.

“Wow, Wanda, you didn’t even know your girlfriend could sing?” Clint teased. With the conversation back on you, you pushed yourself further into Wanda’s body. She reassured you by tracing small circles at the top of your knee.

“Obviously none of you knew about it either.”

“I did,” Natasha smirked, causing you to look up at her in shock. “I heard you singing in the shower the other day when I went to drop off the sweatshirt you left in my room.” You threw your head back in laughter before chucking a pillow in her direction, which she easily caught.

“You suck. You put me on singing on purpose!”

“You wanted to win, didn’t you?” your best friend shrugged, clearly not feeling bad for what she had done.

“Okay, okay, can we get back to game night now?” Sam whined. “Sure, Y/N can sing. But can she dance?” Everyone groaned playfully as Sam pulled out a copy of Just Dance. “Natasha, you’re not allowed to play,” he quickly added. The redhead crossed her arms, a smile on her face.

“Fine with me. Go get ‘em, Y/N.” You grinned. Giving Wanda a peck on the cheek, you stood from the couch yet again and rolled up your sleeves. This was going to be a long night.

[penpatronuswhump]

WHUMPTOBER 2020 

No. 22

Fandom: Avengers

Whumpee: Tony Stark

Caregivers: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff

Title: If Lips Could Kill

By: PenPatronus // PenPatronusAooO 

“Can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Steve muttered to Tony as they approached the stage at the annual Stark Relief “FUN”draiser. The crowd was laughing and clapping, enjoying the anticipation and suspense. Natasha stood at the podium, also clapping, cocking an eyebrow. She was wearing a long sequined black and red gown with red lipstick that made her eyes pop.

 “Sore loser already?” Tony unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and ran a hand through his hair. “I bet I go for 50% more than you.”

 “You have a girlfriend. You shouldn’t be doing this anyway.”

 “My girlfriend knows that this money is going to a good cause. She’s fine with a little kiss.”

 “Why doesn’t Thor have to do this?”

 “Thor’s off-world, and Clint, Sam, and Bruce did this last time. They were happy to contribute to the fundraiser. Why aren’t you?”

 “Sorry, but unlike you, I’m not used to kissing girls I’ve known for three seconds.”

 “Ouch, Rogers! Just because I’m auctioning you off like a whore doesn’t mean you have to go through the low blows.”

 Steve sighed as they climbed the stairs. “Don’t call it that. This isn’t prostitution.”

 “You sure about that?” Tony summoned his most charming smile and waved to the clapping crowd. The two Avengers stood side-by-side on Natasha’s right, half-blinded by the stage lights, looking out on an audience of a thousand people. Some of the richest in the world turned out for the fundraiser. Friends of Stark, people curious to see the Avengers up close and, likely, some who just wanted to participate in the “main event.” That main event was a glorified kissing booth. Natasha was about to auction off Steve and Tony’s lips.

 Natasha had reached the end of her explanation of the rules when Steve suddenly sidestepped Tony and whispered something in her ear. “Really?” she sighed. Then she pouted, “You’re no fun.” She then turned back to the audience and, after making her opinion clear with a scowl, announced that the only people allowed to participate were the females. More than one voice in the crowd booed loudly.

 “Coward,” Tony said when Steve returned to his side.

 “Ladies and… Ladies! Who would like to kiss Tony Stark, Iron Man himself!” said Natasha with an entertainer’s flair the boys didn’t know she had in her. “Let’s start the bidding at $1000!”

 The woman who won with a whopping $10 million dollar donation was at least 70. She wore a dress more appropriate for a 20-year-old, with white gloves up past her elbows. “Oh my god, she’s ancient,” Tony whispered to Steve while maintaining his smile. “This one should be yours, old man.”

 Steve was enjoying every minute of the situation, and so was Natasha, and the hooting and hollering crowd. “Still enjoying this ‘fun’draiser?”

 “I hate you.”

 Nat stepped away from the mic, reached down the stairs, took the woman’s gloved hand, and helped her ascend by grasping her upper arm. “This is Winnie!” she said, introducing her new friend. “She’s here to kill you.”

 Still maintaining their smiles, Tony and Steve both said, “What?”

 “Yeah!” Natasha maintained her composure, too. She smiled and laughed and spoke with her hands while she said, “She’s a much younger woman wearing makeup to make her look old and frail, and under that glove is a metal arm that probably has a hand strong enough to pop your Adam’s apple out of your throat like a champagne cork.”

 “Winnie” also kept smiling. “Ok, ok, ok… Look, you got me, all right? I’m a hired gun, yes, but I did still give you $10 million dollars. Can’t I get a kiss anyway?” Before Tony could say “hell, no!,” Winnie darted forward and kissed him on the lips with bright red lipstick. The crowd loved it. “There,” Winnie said, “was that soooo bad?”

 Tony chuckled and waved bashfully at the crowd. “Go backstage and turn yourself over to secur—security—” Tony tugged his bowtie away from his neck. “If you don’t cooperate now we’ll… We’ll…” Tony suddenly reached backward, blindly, fingers opening and closing.

 Steve realized his friend was reaching for him, and stepped forward. He took the hand Tony was reaching with, and then put his other hand around Tony’s upper arm. “Stark?”

 Ninja-quick, Natasha suddenly grabbed the woman by the neck and flipped her over onto her back. Before that, she yanked off Tony’s bowtie. She pressed it to the woman’s lips, then smelled the lipstick on the fabric. She looked up at her teammates, horrified. “It’s poison!” She quickly wiped the poison off Tony’s lips, but they all knew it was too late.

 The crowd was probably shouting. Security stormed the stage and took the woman away. The running shoes of a thousand people sounded like thunder. Steve noticed none of this. None, because Tony collapsed back into his arms. He’d wrapped his arms around himself as if from a sudden chill. At first he tipped forward but, in trying to right himself, leaned too far back right when the weakness hit. His lips were blue and his entire body was trembling. Steve watched, dismayed, helpless, as Tony’s body arched toward the ceiling and he cried out in pain.

 “Hang on. Hang on, Stark,” Nat urged. Tears hovered in her eyes – all professionalism gone, replaced by desperation. “Ambulance is on its way.”

 Tony’s head rested on Steve’s knee. He reached out a hand for each of them. They took it and squeezed back. The blueness around his lips spread to his cheeks, then down his neck, all the way to the tips of his fingers. He stared at Steve, whispered something about Pepper, and then his eyes rolled back into his skull and he went still.

 “He stopped breathing!” Natasha cried. She checked his pulse and found none. “You breathe for him,” she ordered Steve. “I’ll do the compressions.”

 ----------

 A day later, Steve sat drinking from a bottle of water and reading a Tolkien book beside Tony’s hospital bed. Stark had been in and out of consciousness. They’d gotten an antidote to him in time and although he had a long recovery time in front of him, he was going to make it.

 “Hey,” Tony whispered around his sore throat when he woke up and saw Steve. “Hell of a party.”

 “Hey. Yeah. Let’s never do it again.” Steve rose, then sat on Tony’s bedside. “You scared me.”

 Tony snorted. “Should I apologize?”

 “I should apologize. I should’ve stopped her before she got to you. I’m sorry.”

 Tony made that buzzing sound by flapping his lips. “Cap, I know you expect yourself to be able to save everyone, but shit happens.”

 “Shit happens?”

 “It means that bad things happen and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

 “Hmm.” Steve looked down at his hands. “Scared me,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

 The two men sat in silence for a moment, each reliving what had happened. Steve shuddered.

 “Heard you did the CPR.” Tony eventually said. “You do know that whole show was being recorded, right? Thought you didn’t want to kiss a guy?”

 Steve chuckled and put his face in his hands. “Shut up.”

 The End