#i obviously wanted to examine that scene through Tony's eyes

[pynkgothicka]

Request: can you write where OC who is in the police force/ a detective and trying to catch the world notorious mafia king (no one knows what he looks like). OC found an injured jimin and helped him. Jimin became madly obsessed with oc, stalked oc and kidnapped oc and made oc his

Ｗｉｃｋｅｄ Ｇａｍｅｓ ＰＪＭ

Synopsis - Your a new detective who gets put on a rough case to solve a string of cocaine over doses.

Pairing - Yandere! Jimin x Fem! Reader

Featuring - Toni Braxton, Jackson Wang (Begrudgingly.)

Tags and Warnings - Drug mentions, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Jimin being a little bit mean, sexual tones towards the end

Authors Note - I need to write more mob boss fics. Tis was fun.

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Your office was blistering cold as you stared at a huge file on your desk.

You were tasked with connecting and solving a string of cocaine related deaths. Your boss, the police chief Toni, had gave you the case hoping to give you experience with a big case rather than a little one for your first case under the detective title.

But the scenes you saw with this case haunted you. Slacked jaws and frothing mouths. All while the environments around them showed their hopeless situation. You felt bad for the men, probably all dealing with addiction.

You were shaken from your thoughts as the door opened, Toni handing in a weeks worth of lab data. “The lab work for the coke came back. All of the various samples provided were all of the same, and get this, were all stronger and more concentrated.”

“That would make sense, all these men who died we're big named in the crime world.” You added standing up, grabbing both badge and gun. “That would make all the deaths planned! I'm going out, doing one last swoop of some of the crime scenes. I think I'm looking past a bigger picture.”

“Well who do you think it is?"

“I don't know. But I think it's a power play thing. I just need to do investigate more! got this!” You said rushing out of your office, leaving a stunned Toni.

She began to look at your board, seeing towards the end of your board a blank face with the name Jimin written in red ink. He had no connection to the case, but you were considering him.

Toni took a deep breath before shaking her head. “This can't be good...God please protect her…”

🔍

As you drove down to the first crime scene, you tried to clarify any leads as who it could possibly be. This has been your focus for the last week, and you had to prove your worth to Toni. It was a personal goal, but hopefully a goal that would be in good favor.

When you pulled into the first crime scene, the place was obviously a party house. The yard and peeking inside, were both messy. Jackson Wang's body was found here, a known crime boss and partier. This was probably one of his go to rental spaces for parties.

You walked past the yellow tape and glanced at the main room. It reeked of booze and death. The table that sat right in front of Jackson's deathbed was still messy as the night of his death. What's a better place to start looking again rather than here?

The table had split drinks, which were now sticky, all over it. But what caught your eye was a brown paper bag. Upon a closer examination, there was a small “P” written on the top. You rose a brow at that. Then you picked it up, looking inside to see more coke.

What drug dealer would mark their works at a and then leave it there once the area became a crime scene? Wouldn't they want to get rid of any connection to the death? More so why hadn't the police picked it up during their first sweep through? Toni was initially over this case, and she didn't seem to be the type to leave crucial evidence behind.

You slipped on a glove and picked up the brown paper bag, putting it into a small zip lock bag you'd brought. Maybe this would be the key to figuring out the cases? You’d just have to visit the other spots and see if the bag was there as well.

Upon your way out you heard a loud gutteral yell. You followed the sound seeing a dark haired man holding his abdomen. He hissed as he slid down the wall. His assailant hurried off, but you didn't have time to chase him up on close inspection of the injured man. Blood began to seep through his shirt.

“Holy shit! Sir, I…I'm going to bring you to the nearest hospital. Just hold onto me while I bring you to my car.” He gave you a small nod, almost as if he had a choice in the matter. You refused to let this man die.

You got down to his side, grabbing his arm to lift him up. You carried his body to the back seat of your car. He kept hissing and groaning, but you settled him down with a cold water bottle you had. “Keep this on or near the wound. It will slow down your blood flow so you don't lose as much.” You then quickly got in and cranked the engine, setting the car to drive.

🔍

Jimin laid in the hospital bed, eyes trained to his right, watching as you slept. The amount of love he held for you, reached no boundaries. Jimin knew he was obsessed, but it's not like he could do anything about it.

Once Jimin saw something he wanted, he had to have it.

Jimin had everything planned out.

The police station was already deep in his grasp majority of them being corrupt and self serving. Especially Toni.

Police Chief Toni Braxton was one of his ex’s. It was a relationship that ended months ago and something he didn't miss. However he knew for a fact she missed him.

All it took was hint the possibility of getting back together. And with that Toni almost immediately to fell into her place for his plan.

“Jimin, I still love you. I know I shouldn't but I do.” Toni told him. He knew if he visited her apartment, she would be all over him again. Which was correct, as she was already on his lap, and he hadn't been there not even 30 minutes.

“Oh baby, I'm willing to bring back what we had. I missed all this.” Jimins hand grasped at her ass hard, knowing she'd bruise. Toni let out a small gasp as Jimin continued. “I just need you to do a small favor for me.”

“Anything for you. You know that.”

“You know that new detective you promoted baby? I want her on my case.” Jimin said leaning into Toni's neck, leaving small hickies.

“Why?” She gasped out. Her hand went to his face, pushing his eyes to meet hers. She placed her forehead on his own, lips almost about to connect.

“You know I don't wanna get caught now? She won't be able to catch me, catch us. Just do it until I get things together, then we can have that life we always talked about.” And with that Jimin connected her lips, sealing his ask with a small hot and heavy makeout.

That marked down Toni, next he needed to play hurt. But he knew he couldn't just fake being seriously hurt. He'd already contacted the hospital about his plan, in hope that they'd receive a small extra shipment of what he has to offer.

So he got one of his guys to stab him in the alley by that dickhead Jackson's place. He knew you'd have to revisit as he made sure to leave some things missing from the initial crime scene. Once Jimin saw you, he waited a few minutes before whispering a small now for his man to stab him.

And it hurt.

It fucking felt like he'd been shot, but ten times worse. The stab wasn't deep but still.

But he was relieved as he saw your worried expression come into view.

All of that hard work led to now, him watching your slumbering face. You'd refused to leave his side upon arrival and he couldn't be more grateful for it. You had such a sweet heart. More so you couldn't see the game he was playing.

He was so rudely pulled from his gaze as Toni walked in, brown locs pulled into a pony tail. She took off her uniform seemingly to present herself to him. Her white button down had a few unbuttoned near the top and her pants hugged her curves just right.

It left such a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Jimin! I heard you were hurt.” She turned around looking at your passed out form in the chair. “She's still here?”

“Yeah. Why are you here Toni? The hospital doesn't play with visitors. They're allowing her to stay as mine right now.” He rambled on.

A lie.

But just maybe he could piss her off enough to where she could go on her own accord. But Toni only came closer hands resting on his shoulder.

“I know, I just worry about you. Shes begun to piece things together.” Toni kissed at his temple. “I just hope she doesn't end up getting hurt. I can't have you go to jail for murder now.”

Jimin shrugged Toni away. “Just not right now. I'm actually fucking hurting and all you can think about is her. Obsessed much?”

Hypocrite.

Toni took a step back before letting out a huff. “Fine. I'll text you later whenever your not being a asshole. Make sure my detective gets back safe.”

Jimin knew damn well he was going to do the exact opposite. In fact she was never going to see him nor you ever again. As soon as Toni walked through the door, she just about secured his and your future together.

“Don't worry baby, I got some men coming get us. It's going to be so nice. I'm happy your played along with all this. I love you.”

[adamwatchesmovies]

Hereditary (2018)

Keen viewers will foresee the ending of Hereditary fairly early on. Having seen the film three times now, I’ve realized that's not a bug; it's a feature. The point is that you see the train coming but you can't move out of its way. With a superb performance by Toni Collette at its center, terrific, inventive cinematography and impeccable direction by Ari Aster (his feature-film debut), it's a joy to examine the filmmaking at work. It also happens to be horrifying.

Following the death of her estranged mother, Annie Graham (Toni Collette) attends a loss support group to try and cope. She’s been sleepwalking again and can't shake the feeling that something's... not right at home.

In class, Annie’s son, Peter (Alex Wolff) isn’t paying attention to his teacher's lesson, but he should be. The students are asked whether it’s more tragic for a hero to know they're doomed but be unable to change their fate, or be unaware of the misfortune awaiting them. This idea is what makes the ending of "Hereditary" work. There’s something about watching people slowly inching their way towards annihilation unsettling. With every passing second, you can feel the walls of their cage tightening. You’re an outsider, powerless to react and when the danger is as intense as it is in Hereditary, you’re glad to be nothing but an onlooker. In the most intense scenes, nothing could be more frightening than the characters turning towards you for help. Of course you would if you could. Annie, Steve (Gabriel Byrne), Peter and Charlie (Milly Shapiro) go through so much you don’t want them to suffer but your curiosity has also gotten the better of you. What’s coming will surely make your skin crawl and your hairs stand on end but you want to see just to be sure. Maybe things will go a different way. Or maybe they’ll go exactly how you expect they will.

Key images in the film fill me with dread just thinking about them. It makes me want to claw my eyes out so I don’t have to see them anymore, which makes me admire the filmmaking even more. The longer you look at this movie, the more things you notice. In many scenes there are symbols hidden in the background, there are things standing in the darkness, recurring images and foreshadowing telling you what’s incoming. It all ties back to that question posed to Peter. The more you see, the more you wonder whether you want the characters to know what you do or if you’d rather they stay ignorant of the doom that awaits them. The recurring theme of decapitation is on its own more than enough to give you the willies.

The performance by Toni Colette turns something you would normally passively watch into a reality you’re forced to confront. Her wails as she cries pierce your chest and wrap their fingers around your heart. Her panic as she pieces together what’s actually going on is palpable even if you don’t quite understand all of the “rules”. This film is quite good at giving you the minimum amount of information required and leaving the rest for your mind to fill in the blanks. If you're the king of person that won’t be able to sleep until you know everything that happened, don't worry. There are a few scenes that spell it out for you. Our lead is so good you’re likely to overlook how well everyone else does with their roles. Milly Shapiro, for instance. You’d never guess A) she was 15 at the time and B) that she’s a perfectly normal teenaged girl. Obviously they used prosthetics to make her look the way she does but she so subtly off you just don’t know what to make of her.

There are certain aspects of the film you could criticize. Hereditary is essentially a modern update on a couple of well-known horror films and a scene during the beginning makes it very easy for you to know this story’s final destination. This may detract from some of the fun but it certainly won’t take away the scares. In fact, it gets more intense, more terrifying upon rewatches because your eyes can focus less on what’s happening in the foreground and more on the stuff hidden in the margins. There’s a brilliant scene with a rolling ball every aspiring horror filmmaker needs to take note of. It's just one example of the many scenes ready to conjure up some recurring nightmares. (March 20, 2020)

[losingmymindtonight]

In which Tony learns what it’s like to be the one left behind.

--

Tony was, for once, entirely off-duty.

Or, he was as entire off-duty as a father could be. Which, admittedly, wasn’t really off-duty at all. Either way, it felt like being off-duty, which he decided was pretty much the same thing.

The summer sun was warm on his face. He could hear the lake’s lazy waves lapping up on the shore behind him, the creak of the dock bobbing in the breeze. Clint and Natasha were at the grill, bickering over the proper way to cook a hot dog, and the rest of the team, old and new, were scattered all around the cabin’s grounds.

“No kids, huh?” Steve said, sitting down gingerly in the lawn chair set directly beside his own. It still caught him off guard, every once in a while, seeing Captain America himself so old and fragile. He was getting used to it, though, was getting used to seeing Steve as Steve rather than the idol that Howard had spent a lifetime worshiping.

He spread his arms out, leaning back and taking a deep breath of the grass-tinged air. “I’m a free man, Rogers.”

Steve’s eyes darted off to the right, where Happy, Pepper, May, and Peter were all busy playing with Morgan and Clint’s kids in a makeshift slip-n-slide. “But for how long?”

He grinned. “For as long as some soap and water can keep them occupied, and that’s quite long enough for me. I’ll be missing them desperately in about,” he glanced down at his watch, “twelve minutes.”

“I’m sure Peter will come fuss over you long before then.”

“Oh, I hope not.” He watched the kid’s face, bright and smiling, completely removed from the horrors that plagued their in-between moments, and let the sight cradle joy in his chest. “He deserves to forget about all that for a while.”

“Mm,” Steve hummed. “How’s the arm?”

“Serviceable,” he said, holding up the prosthetic, admiring the way the sun glinted off the gray metal. “Pete’s already got some schematics drawn up for a replacement. Morgan wants to help him decorate it, so I’m sure that’ll be a disaster.”

Steve snorted. “Kids.”

“Yeah.” He smiled, love running through him as he listened to Peter and Morgan’s twin laughter drift over on the breeze. “Kids.”

Of course, that was a very peaceful moment, and peace wasn’t really the kind of thing that lasted around the Stark household. Usually, it was the shattering of a vase or the wailing of a skinned knee that broke it.

This time, however, it was the simultaneous screech of multiple emergency signals. Half of the gathered party scrabbled to silence them, reading through the alert with furrowed brows. Tony reached for his own, then realized, in a delayed reintroduction with reality, that he didn’t have one.

Iron Man was retired. Tony Stark wasn’t a superhero anymore. He was just a man. Which, really, was exactly what he wanted to be, most of the time.

Then his eyes fell on Peter, webshooters folding down over his hands, and he wasn’t so sure.

“C’mon, Spider-geek,” Sam shouted, fastening his shield over his arm, wings already engaged and unfurling in preparation for takeoff. “Your Octopus friend is trying to take over the world again. It’s all hands on deck.”

The Iron Spider suit was already crawling over the kid’s skin. It was quite a sight. Eerily beautiful, if he could forget that the technology had been born of paranoia and war. Tony had never really had the chance to appreciate the dance of the nanites before, had always been inside the suit or watching Peter plummet thousands of feet, limp and unconscious.

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter called, flexing his fingers as the nanotech settled over them. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Morgan grabbed his leg, and the mask retracted as he looked down at her.

“Are you gonna go fight the bad guys?” She asked, eyes full of stars.

“Sure am.”

“Ooh,” she whispered, bouncing up and down in excitement, still clinging to the kid’s thigh. “Don’t let them catch you!”

“Don’t worry, M. Bad guys never catch Spider-Man.”

Tony pushed up from his chair, conscious of Steve’s gaze burning into his back. He didn’t know what he was trying to do. Stop Peter from going? No, not that, although that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to. He understood the call to war. Once you stepped into a suit, it was hard to step back out.

Tony had only done so because he’d been dragged, kicking and screaming. Because he was missing an arm, and a good portion of his lung function, and his entire right side was weakened and scarred. He hadn’t had a choice, and maybe that was a good thing. If he’d been given one, he probably would’ve died in the armor.

He was terrified by the very real possibility that that was how Peter would meet his end, too. That there would be nothing powerful enough to overcome the kid’s morals, his call to duty. He would die a hero, and people would call that a triumph, but Tony would still call it dead.

He saw May brush forward, cup Peter’s face, smile at him. There was fear in her silhouette: the same fear he’d seen in Pepper over and over and over again. For the first time, he felt it too. The fear of being the one left behind. The fear of waiting.

The fear of waiting forever.

Peter trotted over to him after he’d said goodbye to May, which left him a little warm and fuzzy inside. Before the kid could open his mouth, Tony leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then pulled back and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him a little as he fought back another wave of helplessness.

“Swing fast,” he whispered, because it was the only thing he could think of, the only words that weren’t too raw to say in front of so many eyes.

Peter smiled, and it occurred to Tony that he looked older, now. Less child, more man. His posture was confident, eyes sparkling. He looked like a hero, like the kind of person that always won in the movies.

He looked like the future Tony had been waiting for.

He’d finally passed the torch. He could see the bearer standing in front of him, and he was proud. 

“Save me some hot dogs,” Peter quipped, winking, “and don’t let Morgan eat all the cake. I need, like, at least two slices all for myself.”

“You come back safe,” he murmured, “and I’ll give you all the hot dogs and cake you could ever want.”

“Square deal.”

“Parker!” Sam barked, waving him over with a smirk on his face. “The longer you wait, the more likely it is that your old man’s gonna kick it before we get back. As it is, we’re placing team bets on Steve.”

“Very funny, Sam,” Steve drawled.

“I heard you the first time, Cap!” Peter called over his shoulder, then turned back to Tony to grin. “Love you.”

He patted the side of the kid’s face, swallowing to cover up how terrified he was by the prospect of Peter going to fight a battle without him. That had never happened before. They hadn’t faced a world-threatening force since Thanos. Despite logic, Tony had been hoping that the finale really would be the finale. That they could rest now.

“Love you too, kid. Now go on,” he made a shooing motion with his hands, metal prosthetic catching in the light, a permanent reminder of his final act as Iron Man, as a hero, “the world’s waiting for Spider-Man to save the day.”

Soft nostalgia sparked in Peter’s eyes: the remnants of the first day they’d met, when he’d tripped over his words, too starstruck to think straight. “I’ll never be as good at it as you.”

“No,” he agreed, physically spinning the kid and shoving him in Sam’s direction, because he knew that if he didn’t, they’d both linger there forever. “You’ll be better.”

Peter jogged away laughing, shooting a web to the base of the Falcon’s wings to hitch a ride, in the same way that he would’ve done with Tony’s suit, if the world had spun them into a different route that day. Right before they took off, the kid swung to face Morgan and offered her a dramatic solute, letting the mask fold over his face, only a few shades darker than hotrod red. She clapped for him, little voice raised up in a cheer.

Tony sank back down into his chair, sparing Steve a halfhearted glance. They were pieces of history, now. The generation moving aside, content to be left behind.

They’d left the world in better hands, there was no doubt about that. Sometimes, though, Tony really wished that it didn’t have to be the hands of one of his kids.

[lovelybarnes]

clementines- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, platonic!natasha romanoff x reader, platonic!steve rogers, other mentions of avengers warnings: language, mostly fluff but there’s angst if you squint real hard in the beginning about: inspired by a scene in criminal minds i randomly remembered and prompt reader carrying around food for bucky since he forgets to eat a/n: literally so excited to share this with you guys. i have a couple of fics i really do like and want you guys to read, and this is the first of them!

“i thought this was a real mission,” bucky grumbles, shifting uncomfortably in the tight black suit tony had forced steve to force on him. he’s stuffed into a tiny black chair outside the office where you’re supposed to get called into, although neither of you has for most of the day.

“this is a real mission,” steve insists for the second time from next to you, also shoved inside a too-small chair and a tux. “probably one on the harder side, too,” he mutters.

“‘thought missions were supposed to have dirt and blood and fighting. not entitled, rich assholes and idiot government officials. ‘was actually hoping to avoid all of that.”

you sigh in agreement, looking up at steve while you shrug, “i think i’d rather have that, actually. at least tony takes me out to eat after.” bucky grunts in agreement, and your attention lifts to him, narrowing your eyes as you examine him from head to toe, well aware he probably forgot to eat breakfast after his run and is starving due to his rapid metabolism.

steve is about to respond—probably pretend to disagree even though you heard his stomach rumble a few minutes prior—when sam opens the door to the office, nodding to him, “the other old white guy needs you in here. ‘gotta suck you in, sorry.”

steve sighs heavily before getting himself out of the chair and entering the room.

you stare at the closed door, the reason why you and bucky are the only ones left outside in the hallway pretty damn clear to you. feeling hungry at the anger, you go to pull open the zipper of your bag, the deep color matching the blazer and pencil skirt pepper had hung up on your door that morning.

you pull out one of the clementines you’d hastily shoved in there before you left, the bright orange fruit in your fingers, nails already digging into and splitting open the skin. a minute of silence where you simply strip away the peel while he looks at your hands passes by, his eyebrows furrowing as little droplets of sticky juice fall on your expensive skirt.

you eat a slice once you manage to remove it, humming at the taste of the clementine that you break with your teeth. as you pull off another slice, you catch his observing eyes follow your finger as you lick away the orange bubbles that remain on your nails. smirking, you tear off a slice and hand it to him, watching as he eyes it wearily for a moment before taking it from your hold and biting into it.

it goes like that for a few more minutes, you handing him slices and occasionally popping some into your mouth while you discuss what you’re going to eat later, and all the shows you want to watch later on, and last weeks’ mission.

you go through the two clementines stuffed inside your purse, and neither of you ever go inside the stupid conference room.

-

it’s three in the morning when natasha walks out of the training room to find you peeling clementines, two small baggies laid on the table, one filled up and one seemingly about to be.

“what the hell are you doing?” she questions, making your eyes drift from the orange skin peels between your fingers to her without a flinch at the disturbance. you stare at her for a silent moment, continuing to peel the fruit in your hands distractedly.

“i’m peeling clementines,” you answer obviously after a few seconds of silence, looking back down at your work once you realize all the skin is gone. slices are broken apart, aromatic juice smelling of citrus spraying on your skin and the marble countertops beneath you.

“okay,” natasha says slowly, walking towards you, “why are you peeling oranges at…” she turns to look at the digital clock on the stove behind you, raising an eyebrow, “three thirty-eight in the morning.”

“clementines,” you correct swiftly, gently storing the pieces of fruit inside the little baggie that natasha has noticed has the name bucky written on it, a goofy little heart drawn next to the word. she cocks her head at the sight of you filling it up with two more clementines than the other one had.

“fine, why are you peeling clementines at three thirty-nine in the morning?” she obliges. you shrug, popping a piece from an unmarked baggie natasha assumes is for you into your mouth.

“personal reasons.”

natasha snorts, walking over to stare at you from a closer distance, “please. there’s nothing personal in between these walls. it’s why nothing with anyone’s name on it is ever actually eaten by that person.”

“i like clementines.” you reply simply, “and, please, you really think anyone would eat something with my name on it? or yours, for that matter?” at the slight cock of her head, you smirk to yourself, knowing you’re right.

“they’ll eat something that says bucky,” she points out, stealing a slice from your baggie.

“i know, which is why i won’t leave this out,” you zip up the small bag, shaking it gently before placing it next to you. you close your own bag as well, scrawling your name on a small piece of tape as well as a small note reminding everyone what would happen if you woke up to find your fruit gone. then, you pull out another one, labeled nat, and lay it in front of her. “good night,” you say as you walk away, bucky’s bag swinging gently in your hand.

-

the mission—definitely more entertaining than the goddamn conference you and bucky never went into, by the way—is finally, thankfully, over. you’re all tired and annoyed at the fact you have to sit in the boring conference room, debriefing, but none of you have a genuine excuse to not be here this time, so you sit and blink slowly, answering questions that steve and tony already know the answers to and monotonically reciting the events of the mission.

while someone in the front discusses their job, you think back to the last time you saw bucky eat something, unsurprised but disappointed to realize he hadn’t since the morning. you know it isn’t his fault, he just forgets. it was never a priority in hydra, and it isn’t a particular priority now unless he’s passing out or you’re shooting him a death glare while worriedly shoving food between his hands—or at the worst, his lips.

you bend to pull out the bag you’d guarded better than the files you were assigned to steal, pleased to find it in perfect condition before opening it and offering one of its contents to bucky right next to you. he looks from you to the little clementine slice you hold in between your index and thumb before plucking it from you and pushing it between his lips.

you hand him the whole bag, gesturing to the little label with his name when he frowns a little, thinking you were giving him something you’d packed for yourself. you wink at him, opening your other pocket and pulling out your own little bag. he grins a little at you, realizing how hungry he is and spending the rest of the meeting with the juice from the clementine sticky on his fingers.

you discover it’s on his lips too after it’s over, when you’re both sitting on the couch, bowls of food sitting in front of you on the table, still untouched and ready to be eaten as bucky’s lips move against yours, citrus of the clementine sweet on your tongue.

[floraltypes]

lots of innocent and not so innocent touches

With Dwayne Pride if you wright for him if you don't just Gibbs please <3

who - leroy jethro gibbs x reader

an - i’m sorry! i haven’t seen ncis new orleans, so i probably couldn’t write dwayne very well … hope this is okay, for some reason i had trouble writing it :/

please continue to send in asks !!

unedited :/

Blankets surrounded your body, your leg ontop of another while light snores left your mouth. Hair was messed up and a hand was slowly moving to stroke your cheek. The curtains allowed peaks of the sunlight to peak through in your bedroom. A man lying beside you in his sweatpants and old tee.

The grey haired, older, man kept his eyes on your peacefully sleeping face, truly enjoying whatever dream you were imagining. He made no move to remove your leg from the top of his, but did make a move to place his fingers above your face, lightly pushing some stray baby hairs away.

A part of him silently cursed to himself, wishing that he had learned how to work his phone better, then being able to snap a photo of this calming moment for his own purposes.

Gibbs wouldn’t admit it to you, but these moments were more important to him than working on a boat, or the thrill after finally catching a bastard. There was something so domestic, so calming, with these times spent together. Time for him to think to himself, and also have the one he loves so much be so close.

Time to think about the past, and wonder how he got lucky enough for it to land here. Though, he may have lost a lot, and they would never be forgotten, he was grateful for another opportunity at pure happiness.

But his time to enjoy the peacefulness soon ended with a ring of a cellphone, causing you to stir a bit in your sleep. You eventually opened your eyes, staring up at the man who now had the hand that was formally on your face, resting on your chest.

“What’s that?” You questioned, trying to sit up and rub your eyes. “Can you get it?”

“It’s your cellphone,” He answered, missing the warmth of your leg, now having it be moved to lay on the mattress itself.

“Mmk,” You mumbled, reaching over to your side table and grabbing it. Flipping the screen up, you moved it to your ear. “L/n,” You tried to make your morning voice sound more as your own.

“If it isn’t little Y/n!” A cheerful voice spoke loudly on the other line. “Ya miss me?”

“No. What do you need?” You rolled your eyes, getting off of the bed, Gibbs eyes traveling your body as you walked to your dresser, picking out a outfit. “Mhm, okay,” You nodded to yourself. “I’ll be there, text me the address. Oh. Never mind then. Bye.”

Gibbs got out of the bed, going to stand beside you. He silently observed as you rolled your eyes once again, opening another drawer, he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest, a small kiss on the inside of your neck.

“Who’s that?”

“A old coworker.” You opened your underwear drawer, picking a pair for the day.

“Purple,” Gibbs commented, as you dropped the blue pair back into the others, reaching for the one he chose.

“Gosh, it’s like we really are married,” You laughed to yourself, looking back at his straight face. “Sorry, you would know too much about that. But that’s not my point, there is a dead marine there and that means we’ve got work.”

“You didn’t seem to happy to hear from him,” Gibbs unwrapped his arms as you moved to your closet, picking out a dress shirt.

“I wasn’t. He’s annoying and almost cost me my job at the time. But, it’s our job, we have to go, so grab your clothes in the bottom drawers,” You turned around and pointed at the dresser that held some of his items, now finding what you needed and beginning to change.

———————-

“If you are all interested to know… I spent the morning watching a old TV show airing about a classic comedic couple who travels the world with their adopted son,” Tony announced to no one in particular, sitting at his desk as the others sat at theirs.

Ziva had her arms crossed, leaning back in her chair a bit. McGee sat in his, rubbing his eyes and looking down at his phone.

“What did you do this morning, McGee?” Ziva looked over to McGee, watching as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Trying to work on my new writing.. but for my character, uh, Miranda, I need a good backstory for her, people are really grasping onto her character from the former story. I’ve read some things saying they think she’ll get with Gibbs, I mean Libbs!”

“Interesting,” Ziva tsked. “I read the story and your Miranda character, who is obviously Y/n, and I don’t see it.”

“You know nothing about romance, Ziva,” Tony waltzed over, his own coffee in hand and his face near hers. “I think no one expects you to think about who would get together. But, no, I don’t see Gibbs getting with someone like L/n who is very, you know-”

“I’m what, DiNozzo?” You walked in, moving straight to your desk as you placed your bag down.

“Amazing! I meant, you’re so great that someone like Gib-” Tony looked at Ziva’s eyes widen. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

“Someone like me, now what’s that, DiNozzo?” Gibbs questioned.

“Uh-” Gibbs smacked the back of DiNozzos head, moving over to his own desk.

“Dead sailor, body is already getting examined by Ducky and some visitors are coming to drop off some of the evidence.” Gibbs informed everyone.

“They think this sailor had something to do with a past robbery and murder, a cold case,” You clarified.

“L/n!” A guy smiled widely, another girl following in pursuit behind him as he walked to you with his arms wide open. “It’s been too long,” He quickly hugged you, tightening his grip around your shoulders and moving his hands to cup your face. “You still look as beautiful as ever!”

“Y/n, is that your boyfriend?” Ziva inquired.

“He looks a little out of her leagu-” You shot DiNozzo a look. “Or not?”

“Ah no,” The man laughed. “Old coworkers, that is Lila and I’m Carson, nice to meet you guys.”

“If your old coworkers, you must have a ton of embarrassing stories about Y/n!” DiNozzo beamed, moving closer to Carson.

“Uh, a few,” He responded. “We only worked together for a year or two, some, but not a ton.”

“Some will do.”

“DiNozzo, we aren’t here to make friends we are here to solve a murder,” Gibbs shot him a look and hit the back of his head.

“Right, sorry, boss.” DiNozzo put his head down like a sad puppy dog and made his way back to his desk. The two visitors looked at the scene that had just happened oddly.

“We brought all of our evidence, not much, but something,” Lila announced, placing the box on the table now and taking some of it out. “Should we get started?”

“I’ll show you to Abby, she is our forensic analysts and will probably want to take a look at this stuff for herself,” McGee told Lila, putting the evidence back in the box and letting her grab it, soon walking towards the elevator.

“You think I could check out the body?” Carson asked you. “It might be good to see what he looked like more and talk with your doctor.”

“That makes sense, I’ll show you to him,” You smiled at your old coworker and took another way to Ducky’s area.

The both of you chatted on the way down, catching up with how things differ since you worked there and a bit about your new workplace here.

“I really thought you would be Jeremy, the one who called me. I was a bit worried,” You laughed, walking into Autopsy with Carson as Ducky moved near you.

“Hello, dear, who’s this?” Ducky questioned, Jimmy moved near his boss.

“Hey, Ducky, this is Carson. Carson, this is Doctor Mallard. He is a old coworker of mine, Ducky,” You told the older man. “That’s Jimmy, he is Ducky’s assistant.”

Ducky began to explain how the man had died, pointing out various things on the body and even putting in a few past experiences of his own into the conversation.

Soon the four of you had heard the doors open, turning around to catch the view of your boyfriend entering into the room and moving to stand right in between you and Carson.

“I just want to hear some of the explanation myself, you can continue, Ducky,” Gibbs commented, all of your eyes turning back onto Ducky who was back to talking.

You felt a warm, larger hand travel to the middle of your back, a thumb softly pressing into the fabric that covered your skin. You turned your head slightly to make eye contact with Gibbs, but he just continued to stare forward ignoring it.

It was like a goosebump went up your spine, yet it wasn’t not encouraged. It was a bit of a energetic feeling, so you rejoiced in the innocent touch, a sign he was there.

Eventually, Ducky was done with his long explanation and you were back to heading upstairs with Carson and Gibbs to do more research regarding the deadman and cold case.

“So, Y/n, I was thinking we could go out to lunch or something soon to really catch up, outside of work,” Carson mentioned while you three were on the elevator ride up.

You were surprised at his somewhat boldness to announce this in front of your boss (and boyfriend), but he was always a very open person, kind and open.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” You replied.

“We are busy most afternoons.” Gibbs added. “So, if you plan it at some ridiculous time don’t expect my agent to be able to make it.”

The doors soon chimed open and Carson quickly left, making a bee line straight to Lila. Gibbs let you leave first, placing another palm against your back to secretly lead you back to where the desks were, even though you knew where you were going.

———————

The rest of the day was spent with much more working diligently. You all had made some progress but not enough, and you could tell it was really getting to Gibbs. He dismissed everyone and told them to come back in the early hours in the morning.

Gibbs had told you that he was going to stay and work on this some more, so you told him you would stay as well and order some food. Once Carson had heard that, he decided that he would do the same.

A hour later, three burgers arrive and you hand them out to the two other men, soon taking a bite into yours. A bit of the condiment had spewed onto the corners of your mouth, but your hunger caught up with you, continuing to avoid the feeling for a moment and just eat.

Carson caught the look of your messiness, breaking off into a small laugh, and you joining, him then making a joke about how this used to be a regular for you. Gibbs got up from his seat with a napkin and bent over a bit to wipe it away from your mouth.

It was certainly a small gesture, but had caught you and Carson off guard, the both of you quieting. You just stared back at him while he continued to eat with a pride grin on his lips, looking over the papers.

It seemed like a blessing from the sky when Gibbs had finally connected the pieces. Everyone was called back in to look over what he found and to excite a plan on how to continue. You all were able to get the murderer into custody and with old evidence and Ducky’s help you were able to identify he was the killer. With Abby’s help you were able to put him at the scene where your old coworkers cold case took place.

It was a relieving feeling that the case was solved and over. It was easy to tell that your current coworkers were also happy with the fact that your old ones were leaving for good. Having unfamiliar people in a familiar place is always a weird feeling for everyone.

You watched as everyone packed up their things to head home from the tiring few days of work. Standing up, you grabbed your bag and moved to Gibbs desk, chatting with him until Carson came over.

“It was nice working with you again,” He commented, you turned around to face him.

“It was. We make a good team.”

“We really do. I was wondering about that, uh, date?”

“Hm,” That had slipped your mind, and almost did once more when you felt a brush of a hand against your bottom, turning around to make eyes at your boyfriend. “Sorry, I actually have a boyfriend. But if you mean the lunch date to catch up, then I’d love to.”

“The second one,” He nodded, his cheeks brightening a bit at the dejection but also confirmation.

“Great,” You grinned, writing down your phone number and handing it to him. “Talk soon, bye.”

“Goodbye.”

You watched as Carson entered the elevator and soon disappeared, the office area looking very empty with the lights darkened a bit and only you and Gibbs being in the area.

“Glad he’s gone,” Gibbs laughed.

“I figured,” You laughed alongside with him. “I could tell by your touchiness at work, are you trying to let everyone know?”

“If I was, I would do something bolder. Didn’t Ducky ever tell you I used to be like DiNozzo?”

“Yeah, that would be a interesting time to see.”

“I think if I was that same man, we might’ve had sex right o-”

“Let’s get home, now,” You both soon left the workplace, hand in hand, laughing along at stories of the younger Gibbs and his flirty persona.

[blonde-in-charge]

Wildcard, Chapter Three

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra guy, Sam Wilson

Warnings:  Mentions of blood/violence, brief unwanted touching, Cursing, Fluffy!Bucky, Flirting

Words: 2.6k

The table underneath you was frozen from the amount of stress you had been under. They just kept injecting things into you, hoping to get some kind of reaction from your body. You had stopped feeling the pain of the needle and experiments weeks ago, which just made everything worse for you in the long run. They were getting annoyed with the fact you had stopped reacting to whatever painful serum they had injected you with that day and it resulted in beating to get a reaction from you. You stared up at the cracked ceiling of your concrete room and counted each crack for the millionth time. You kept yourself company in your mind, getting lost in your thoughts to pass the time until your next beating. You shivered at the cold beneath you, the last serum made ice bleed from every one of your pores. You heard the shrill sound of the old iron door open from the side of the room, you didnt turn your head to see whoever came in anymore, they were all the same type of evil. 

“Your wounds have healed very quickly, you are replicating the progress of our last soldier.” said the thick voice. You hated to think someone else had gone through this hell before you had. You wondered if they escaped or died before they moved onto you. 

You felt a burn in the back of your throat, “What's on the menu today doc? Electro-therapy? Waterboarding? New superhuman power that causes injury to one of your minions?” The one fond memory in your head of this place, being your body set itself on fire as well as one of the more hostile minions of Hydra. You smirked fondly at the memory as the hydra doctor worked his way around you observing the healing process. Every wound that opened on your body disappeared within a couple of hours, which is apparently what they wanted. 

“Nothing on the menu today, we are going to start to prepare you for the memory wipe.” Was all the man said and you felt your heart jump into your throat as the man chuckled, “You will do great things for us, American Girl.” You started pulling at your restraints for the first time in weeks, trying to fight your way off of the table once again. The man gave you a sickening chuckle while watching you struggle and you glared at him. He reached up to run a dirty hand slowly up your leg, “Such a pretty girl, such a shame you must-” He ended his sentence abruptly as you lit your body on fire, burning the man's flesh. You grinned at him as your body started to fizzle out. He held his burnt hand to his body and looked at you with rage, “You stupid slut.” 

You continued to grin as he left the room, feeling somewhat accomplished. Your smile slowly faded as you thought back on the memories they would take from you. Y/N Y/L/N, you were a successful accountant in one of the most successful banks in Manhattan. You lived alone, you haven't spoken to your family since you lost your father. Your mom became an alcoholic after his death, the only thing you really regretted was leaving your little sister, Macy, behind. Your job would have already replaced you by now, and people would have stopped looking for you. You stopped fighting for an escape because you knew you had nothing to go back to. 

-

You woke up slowly to the sound of soft snoring, your body tensed up, wondering who was in your bed. Then you realized this wasn't your bed when you looked up into the face of the sleeping soldier. Your body instantly relaxed as you lay your head back on his chest. His right arm was slung over your waist and his metal arm was holding your forearm against his stomach gently. You closed your eyes, replaying the events of the night before in your head. Hydra had come back for you, but for what reason? Then your eyes snapped open and you looked up at Bucky gently shaking him. He opened his eyes slowly and looked down at you, obviously confused about why he was holding you. Realization dawned on him and his eyes filled with concern, “You okay?” 

“Y/L/N.” Was all you said to him as you continued to stare into his steel eyes.

“Who is that?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

“I remembered my last name.” You said softly to him, “I remember my life before I was taken.”

He sat up quickly and looked into your eyes, “You remember now?” You nodded your head at him, unsure whether you should smile or cry. “Y/N, that's amazing.”

You looked away from him and sat back, “Is it?” you replied solemnly.

“Why wouldn't it be?” He tilted his head slightly, trying to read your thoughts. The sound of the door sliding open cut off your response as Steve came in. Steve stopped in the doorway and examined the scene in front of him. You were sitting to the side of Bucky, wearing his shirt with no pants on, with your legs strung across his thighs. Bucky had his metal hand resting against your calf and was leaning back against the headboard behind him. Bucky’s face turned a dark pink as he realized the situation before taking his hand off of your leg. You remained unphased as you looked over at Steve. 

Steve watched you both and cleared his throat, “The safe house is all set up, can you both be ready by 0300?” You nodded at Steve, who glanced back at Bucky before leaving the room.

You both sat in silence for a moment before you crawled over bucky to the other side of the bed, his eyes perked up as he watched you unmoving, “Where are you going?”

“I have to pack my bag, don’t I?” You stood up and raised your arms above your head to stretch out your back. 

Bucky started to climb out of the bed himself before he stood next to you, “I’ll go with you.” You laughed softly and chose to not object to his company. He followed you down the hallway to your room and you stopped in the doorway to survey the damage. Your bed hung off the side of the bed frame as if the mattress had been thrown. The drawers in your dresser were all thrown open and all of the clothes were spread around the room on the floor. You sighed quietly and started picking up articles of clothing. You searched around for the SHIELD duffle bag you had before shoving clothes into it. Bucky’s eyes raked across the room, he walked towards the bed and adjusted it to its correct position before picking up shirts and folding them neatly into the bed. You smiled slightly to yourself as you found a pair of leggings on the ground and started pulling them on and up over your thighs. You struggled slightly and then looked up to see Bucky staring at you. 

He stilled, realizing he had been caught and looked down at the tee shirt in his hands, “Sorry, guess I got distracted.”

You laughed softly and patted him on the arm, “It's okay Buck, it's not like I don't stare at you sometimes.” You were unashamed of the confession. Sometimes while training you'll watch Bucky in the gym and sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll be able to see him lift his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face. You would never apologize for that.

Bucky looked utterly confused as you packed the last of your things and zipped up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder. He stood up with you and looked down at you. You weren't a short person, you were taller than most girls but still shorter than all of the male avengers so you barely had to crane your neck up at him. His steel blue eyes looked so much lighter in the moment. You turned away from him and started walking towards the door, looking back at him. “Ready?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, go meet with Steve, let me grab my bag.” You nodded at Bucky as you walked into the living area, ignoring the shattered glass on the floor you followed the voices to the kitchen.

“So she just hopped up on this man's shoulders and took him down like that?” Sam snapped his fingers together to get the point across, “Did Natatsha teach her that?”

Tony shook his head and bit the fingernail of his thumb, replaying the 30 second hallway footage from the night before, “Natasha hasn't moved past the basics of fighting with her, we have been focusing on figuring out what she can do power wise.” Steve stood silently with the three, his arms crossed watching the looped video. 

Sam shook his head at the screen, “This chick is a total wildcard.”

You dropped your bag on the ground behind them making them all turn around quickly. You stared at the projection in front of you, you barely recognized yourself. You have never been able to put Sam on his ass in the ring and now you're swinging your body weight around on some random guy? The temperature dropped a couple of degrees in the room as a result of your anxiety. The three men stared at you as you took a step back, you made eye contact with Steve, “Y/L/N.”

Steve looked confused, “What? Who’s name is that?”

“Mine.” You said quietly, “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I had a dream about it. I know my name.”

-

You sat at the table along with Steve and Sam. You were staring off at a wall while shoveling cereal into your mouth. You had only been at the tower for about two weeks now and had a good routine with the two men in front of you. You still didn't have a name. You have been going by kid, kiddo, chick, and rescue. You have been searching your brain for a hint of what your name would be. You tried making up names but none of them suited you the way you wanted it to. You listened to the two men bicker over different work out strategies. You stared off at the wall and thought about how you planned on changing your hair color to maybe platinum blonde. You reached out to grab your glass off the table and grunted when it wouldn't budge. You looked up at the two men staring at you with wide eyes before following their gaze to your hand. The liquid in the glass was frozen solid and the glass stuck to the table in a block. You removed your hand and looked at your palm, which was tinted blue, “Well that's new.” 

Sam tapped on your frozen glass, “Holy shit, Elsa.” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your hands together trying to maintain heat.

Steve watched you, “Has this ever happened before?”

You shook your head and reached out to grab your glass again. Your strength became too much and the frozen glass shattered in your hand. You remained still as Sam hopped up from the table. 

“Jesus fucking christ, kid.” Sam started picking up the larger pieces of glass

“Language.” Steve went into the other room to retrieve a handheld vacuum 

You looked down at your hand and saw little cuts leaking blood in the palm, today just wasn't your day. You stood up from the table and walked over to the sink, running your hand under the water. You were getting really sick of this superpower thing. You have broken so many things so far due to the super strength you can’t control. You sighed as you watched the small cuts on your hand knit themselves back together, you would never get used to that. On the brightside, it didn't hurt. You have not felt the pain of anything you have broken or ran into, the only pain you ever felt was the headache that never went away. You dried your hand off and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Sorry guys… Still getting used to,” You held up your hands, “this.” 

Steve smiled knowingly, “It's okay, kid. I remember when I received my serum, it took a minute to adjust.”  

You gave him a small smile, “Why do you guys keep calling me kid?”

Sam and Steve looked at each other. Sam was the one who spoke first, “You don't really have a name right now.”

“Oh it's Y/N.” You shrugged at the guys and returned to your seat at the table as they stared at you. 

“Did that just come to you?” Steve asked while looking at your seated figure, “It kind of suits you.”

“I think it's my name? It just came to me at the sink and its the only name that doesnt make me want to kill myself.” You smiled as the two men started chuckling at you. 

“I think I will stick to ridiculous nicknames if you don't mind.” Sam said, smiling at you and ruffling your hair. 

-

Tony wasted no time typing your name into the database to pull up a missing persons profile. A photo was pulled up onto the hologram screen and you silently stared at it. It was you, well at least a version of you. You looked so young, your face was effortlessly smooth with a light layer of makeup, and your mouth was pulled in an easy grin. Your hair was pulled back in a sleek low ponytail and you were wearing a white collared shirt with a blazer layered over it. You started into your eyes on the projection, it felt like looking at someone else. 

“You were an accountant? That's boring.” Sam started while eye the photo of you

Tony scanned the photo and then started typing something into the projection. An article pulled up next to the photo, “Y/N Y/L/N, missing for two years, stopped coming into work and her apartment was empty… blah blah blah.” 

“Tony.” Steve warned, coming to put a hand on your shoulder. You looked back at him before shaking off his hand and picking up your bag.

“We should go, right?” You ignored the look Steve gave you before you walked to Bucky’s room, knocking on the mangled door

Bucky met you at the threshold of the door, sensing your discomfort, “You okay, doll?” He raised an eyebrow at you

You raised your own eyebrow, “Doll?” Heat rushed to Bucky's cheeks and you smirked at him, “Grab your bag Buck, it's time to go.” You winked at him and turned away to walk to the elevator door. You rested your nag on the ground as you waited for Steve and Bucky to join you. You leaned back against the wall and sighed loudly, your headache returning.

The two men walked together side by side to meet up with you. Steve pressed the elevator button and debriefed you both about the agents who would escort you to the safe house. You and Bucky both nodded in understanding before stepping onto the elevator. Steve made eye contact with you before the doors completely shut.

“Be safe, kiddo.” You smiled at his words as the doors shut completely.  

[americancowgirl19]

Story of Our Life

Summary: In which your daughter finds your diary detailing your life since you were a young girl all the way to a few days before you die. She learns first hand how you fell in love with her father, Bucky, and survived everything life through at you.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death of loved ones, fluff, 

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,575

A/n:

Masterlist

“Hey, has anyone checked this box yet?” Rebecca questions, finding a dusted cardboard box in the corner of the basement.

“No,” Her sister, Stephanie, mutters offhandedly. Rebecca glances at her before kneeling besides the box.

“Anything interesting in it?” Toni, the middle child, questions abandoning the box of vintage clothes in favor of the box Rebecca had picked out. 

Rebecca doesn’t respond as she carefully opens the flaps of the box. At first it looks like there’s a bunch of junk in it, causing Toni to lose interest and return to her box. Rebecca pulls out the various items and sets them on the floor.

“Hey, Steph, there’s some old clipping of Uncle Steve,” Rebecca calls out. “And some of Uncle Tony... and Uncle Sam... and pretty much everyone else,” Both sisters find themselves sitting on either side of Rebecca in order to look through the clippings.

“Mom had to have been the one to do all this,” Toni mutters.

“You really think Dad would sit down and take the time to find these articles and then cut them out?” Stephanie asks, scoffing. 

“Hey, look at this,” Rebecca alerts, pulling out an old framed picture. It shows their parents and their Uncle Steve. It was easy to place when the picture was taken because both of their parents were in their war uniforms and Uncle Steve had yet to get the serum that made him Captain America.

“They look so young,” Toni whispers. All three girls look at the picture but their eyes linger on you, their mother. 

Out of the three of them, Rebecca looked most like you. She had your hair, your eyes, your height but more of Bucky’s bone structure. Stephanie was the one who looked like the perfect mixture between you and Bucky while Toni favored her father.

Stephanie sniffles and forces herself to look away from the picture. Her eyes return to the news clippings, which don’t help lessen the grief. By this point the only one still alive is Uncle Sam, and even he was on his last leg.

Uncle Steve had been the first to go, long before Rebecca and Toni were born. Stephanie still remembers him, vaguely but he’s still there. Stephanie had been born nine months after half the universe was snapped away. You didn’t know you were pregnant until after everything had gone down. Stephanie grew up with Uncle Steve as a father until Bucky was able to return. She remembers not understanding how one second Uncle Steve was young and the next second he was an old man but she remembers still loving him till the day he finally passed.

Toni was the next one to be born. She hadn’t been planned either. She had been conceived while you and Bucky were stuck in some random cabin during a surveillance mission about five years after Bucky had been brought back.

Then came Rebecca nearly two years later. She was the only one planned and the baby that convinced you to transfer to a more normal life. Bucky cut back on missions but didn’t stop completely like you had. 

“Oh, I wonder if this is another art notebook Uncle Steve filled up,” Toni wonders, snatching a heavily worn thick notebook from the box. Rebecca glances at it while Stephanie continues to try and hold herself together.

“Those aren’t pictures,” Rebecca mutters.

“No, they’re words, genius,” Toni rolls her eyes. Rebecca snatches the notebook and flips through it.

“It’s a diary,” Rebecca whispers, gaining Stephanie’s attention. “It’s mom’s...” She realizes, lowering the book onto her lap. Stephanie and Toni share a look before looking at the notebook.

“Dad had a few of those,” Stephanie mutters. “His were... heartbreaking...” Stephanie whispers, remembering stumbling upon one of the dozen notebooks Bucky had filled throughout his life. She remembered that she had found it while the three of them were going through his stuff a few days after he had died, just like they were doing with your things now. “I couldn’t finish his...”

“I don’t think I want to know about hers...” Toni admits. “Mom and Dad told us all the stories they wanted us to know. We all know they had it rough. I don’t want to find out just how rough it was,” Toni says, standing up and returning to the vintage clothes.

“Keep it if you want it, Becca. I don’t want to find out things I won’t be able to forget again,” Stephanie says, standing up and returning to the box of more modern clothes.

Rebecca looks at her two sisters before looking back down at the notebook. She could only imagine what her mother had put in the book. Looking at the dates it seemed as if she started around the time she was a young teenager all the way to a few days before her death.

…

It wouldn’t be until another three weeks before Rebecca looked at the diary again. She had been debating whether or not she should read it since the moment she figured out what it was. Eventually, she gives in.

The first entry is when you were about 14. You started writing in the diary because your mother died and you needed an outlet. The first few entries were heartbreaking and made Rebecca cry as your death was still so fresh in her mind.

Unable to continue, Rebecca flips forward a few years. Unfortunately, she stops around the time you had lost your dad. Not wanting to cry again, Rebecca flips forward once more. 

She stops on an entry from December. You’re in your early 20′s and your describing your day. It’s normal at first. You talk about how you had been shopping with your best friend when you stumble upon a scene you just can’t walk away from.

...

“I think he’s going to propose on Christmas... Or maybe he’ll do it on Christmas Eve. One or the other,” You friend rambles, with a love struck grin on her face. “He’s been dropping hints ever since Thanksgiving and you know how he is, can’t keep a secret to save his life. I’m surprised he’s been holding it in for so long,”

“I’m sure he just wants it to be special, a night to remember,” You comment, adjusting the bag on your tiring arms.

“I know,” She sighs. “I just want him to blurt it out already. I want to be the fiancé now, not the girlfriend,”

“It’ll happen,” You assure her. “He’s obsessed with you, there’s no way you’ll be the girlfriend for long,” She smiles, daydreaming about the future wedding. “There’s the car,” You mumble in relief.

“Oh, finally!” She groans, picking up the pace while you slow to a stop. It takes a moment for her to realize your not following. “What are you doing? You planning on walking all the way home?”

“I think there’s somebody down there,” You comment, seeing movement in the alley.

“It’s Brooklyn, Y/n... There’s people everywhere. Come on,” She pleads but you ignore her and go down the alley. “What is it with you and going down creepy places?” She grumbles, begrudgingly following you.

The further you two walk, the clearer the scene becomes. There’s a large, brute of a man beating on a smaller guy. The guy looked stick thin and obviously couldn’t fight back every easily. Although, you did have to respect the fact that the guy didn’t give up. He kept standing and attempting to fight back.

It only takes a few seconds for you to become fed up with what’s happening in front of you. You shout to gain the man’s attention. You grew up the youngest of 5 brothers, you’re used to making people pay attention to you.

“Well, hello, there,” The large man smirks, shoving the smaller one to the ground. You watch as the blond rolls into trashcans, your anger towards the larger one growing.

“Hi,” You smirk. “What’s a stupid brute like you doing in an alley like this?” You question, enjoying how his face falls. “You like hurting people smaller than you?”

“Sometimes you just have to show people who’s the alpha, ya know?” He winks, but you unamused.

“I don’t see an alpha here,” You tell him. “I see a bully who’s probably been bullied before so he gets the idea in his head that it’s ok for him to bully other’s since it’s happened to him,”

“I ain’t ever been bullied,” He snaps, clearly offended by the mere thought of being the bullied instead of the bully.

“Oh, so you were one of those brainless ‘pretty’ boys who thought it was ok to bully people smarter than you because you could never reach their level of intellect. Oh, and that means you’ll never be as smart as them. Either way, you’re a spineless jackass with no place in this world,”

“Listen, lady-”

“You, you listen,” You snapped, stepping up to him instead of backing down like he wanted. “You’re just a waste of space, asshole trying to bring others to your level instead of climbing out of your own crappy life to become a decent human being. News flash, nobody really likes assholes like you so why don’t you go back to your parents basement and never come out again until you’ve grown up like the rest of us. Ok? Bye,” 

“How about you come with me?” He suggests, a suggestive smirk on his lips. You stare at him dumbfounded. “I can teach you a lesson on how you’re supposed to talk to me,”

“Hey, why don’t you leave the lady alone?” The blond swaying on his feet demands. You glance at him but the large man in front of you completely ignores him.

“I’m wondering, how would you know how people talk to men when you’re just a little bitch?” You ask. Your little jap is the last straw and the man snaps.

You barely register your friend gasping as he attempts to slap you. Luckily, you managed to lean out of his reach and dodge the hit. You don’t hesitate to drop your shopping bags and slam the heel of your shoe into his foot. He groans, too focused on his foot to see your fist heading straight for his jaw. He staggers backward giving you the opportunity to kick him in the balls. 

He hunches over covering his man hood. You examine your hand for a second, forgetting how uncomfortable it is to punch someone. Before you reach forward and grab the mans chin, forcing him to look at you.

“My brother taught me how to do that, you should go see him when you’re ready for a lesson on how to treat other people like decent human beings,” You growl, before shoving his head away from you.

“Oh my God, Y/n, are you alright?” You friend asks coming up beside you. You offer her a coy smile and nod.

“I’m fine,” You assure her before noticing a new guy standing a few feet from you with an awestruck look in his eyes. Nobody says anything for a moment as you size the newcomer up. He’s tall with short cut, dark hair with beautiful blueish grey eyes.

“Well, I came over here to see if the beautiful dame needed some help but looks like I’m not needed,” He smirks, walking closer to you and your friend. You feel a surge of pride run through you, a smirk mimicking his coming to your lips.

“What can I say? Mama didn’t raise a damsel,”

“No, no she did not,”

“Y/n,” You introduce yourself, your eyes locked with his. They’ve been locked since he first spoke up and you felt as if he had trapped you with his gaze. The greyness in his eyes seemed endless, you would willingly get lost within them.

“James but people call me Bucky,” He introduces himself. “You can call me whatever you want, beautiful,”

...

Rebecca couldn’t stop the shit eating grin from coming onto her face as she read how her parents met through her mothers eyes. She read how her mother described Bucky as handsome and charismatic yet also goofy and lovable.

Before she turns the page, she notices a footnote. The footnote is more recent, it’s dated during the 21st century. 

“I learned today that Bucky told Steve he was going to marry me the instant my friend and I were out of ear shot. Seconds after just meeting me,” Rebecca could feel her grin widening. “Had it been up to him, we would have been married within a week but Steve convinced him to wait. Bucky could only wait seven months before proposing.”

Rebecca knew what the world thought of her father. Most of the world knew him as the Winter Soldier but she knew him as the incredible father he was and the hopeless romantic he had been for you. 

She spends a few minutes reminiscing on the memories of Bucky stopping on the way home from school to randomly pick you up flowers. She remembers the dances in the kitchen when she and her sisters had moved the the living room. She remembers the random dances everywhere, Bucky loved to dance. He had danced with his daughters multiple times but it was never like how he held you.

Rebecca remembers how she and her sisters would spy on you and Bucky. They were meant to be in bed but on the days they knew Bucky felt extra romantic, they snuck out to see what he had planned. Of course, being soldiers and spies you both knew you had eyes on you but pretended not to notice.

Bucky would always hold your hand in his and wrap you close with his other arm. There wouldn’t be a space between the two of you as you swayed together. Even the blind could see that you two were head over heels in love, even after everything you went through.

Flipping through the pages, Rebecca stops on an entry dated in the month of July. It was the date you told your grandmother, who you had lived with when your parents died, about your engagement to Bucky.

...

“You’re shaking, doll,” Bucky mutters, pulling you to his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine,” Bucky whispers, kissing your hair lightly.

“She’s going to be mad,” You whisper.

“She’ll get over it,” Bucky assumes. You smile, leaning your head back to look into his eyes. 

“You don’t know my grandma,” You mutter, “She’s a horrible person,” Bucky laughs and kisses your forehead.

“It doesn’t really matter what she thinks right? We’re going to get married either way. You do want to do this, right?”

“Buck, I’d marry you tomorrow if I didn’t want some kind of a wedding,” Bucky smiles, tucking some loose strands behind your ear. His hand stays there, caressing your head.

“We’re going to be just fine,” He promises. “No matter what happens, you’ll have me. You have me from now till the end of our days,” He whispers.

“I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Barnes,” You whispers, back. He smirks, pressing your heads together. “Once you marry me, I won’t ever let you go,”

“I should be saying that to you,” He mutters, tightening his grip around you. “You sure you wanna do this, doll?”

“Marry you? Absolutely... Tell my grandma? No,” Bucky smirks, kissing your nose.

“Come on, the sooner we get this done the better,” You sigh but let him pull you into the large house that belonged to your grandma.

Your grandma is an impossible person. She’s judgmental and cynical. She came from money and looked down on those without it. Those like Bucky. She had disowned your mother because she fell in love with a blue collar man. Deep down you knew the same was about to happen to you.

“Well, looks like street rats can clean up,” She comments, looking at Bucky’s attire. You jaw clinches tightly as you quite literally bite your tongue.

“Nice to meet you ma’am, I’m James but you can call me Bucky,” He introduces himself, politely. He holds his hand for her but she just looks at it.

“Your late,” She states, staring at you before walking into the dinner room. 

“Well, she seems nice,” Bucky mutters.

“We should make a run for it,”

“Think we just got locked in,” Bucky whispers, seeing the main door close. 

“Damn,” You whispers. Bucky smiles, holding your hand tightly.

“We out number her, stronger in numbers right?”

“We’re gonna need a couple more people to outnumber her,” Bucky sighs, giving your hand another squeeze before leading you into the dinning room.

Dinner had been tense with few words spoken. Bucky talked about himself when your grandma had flat out refused to answer him. You tried to ease the tension but nothing seemed to work. 

“So, Y/n,” Your grandma finally speaks.

“Yes?”

“How long as you going to keep this hoodlum?” She questions. Your jaw drops for a moment as you wonder if she had seriously just asked you that. Bucky pauses in his feast to glance at you. Your mouth slowly closes and a glare sets.

“For the rest of my life,” You tell her. “I’m marrying him,”

“No, you’re not,” She laughs, shaking her head.

“I am,” You state sternly. Bucky gently caresses the inside of your thigh but it doesn’t soothe you like it normally does.

“No, you won’t,” She says. “Why don’t you marry that dashing Vince from next store?”

“Because Vince is a tool who can’t think for himself. I don’t love Vince, I love Bucky and I will marry him,”

“Darling, do not make the same mistake your mother made,”

“My mother loved my father,” You snap. “They loved each other to the day they died,”

“Your mother would have still been alive had it not been for that man,” 

“My father was not at fault,” You growl. “Besides, had they not gotten together me and my siblings wouldn’t have been alive,” She scoffs.

“Oh, and the world surely wouldn’t have been able to survive with disappointments like you and your brothers in the world,” She rolls her eyes.

“My brothers and I are not disappointments,” You snapped. “If anything, you’re the disappointment with you bitterness and lack of love for the world and your family. Someday soon, you will be lying on your death bed all alone because of your cruelty and hatred. I will not live like you. I’ll live with love in my heart and family around me. I will marry Bucky and you won’t stop me,” You said standing up.

“If you marry that boy, you’ll die without a dollar to your name,” She tells you.

“As long as I die with the ones I love by my side, I’ll be considered the luckiest woman in the world,” You grandma scoffs as you grab the back of Bucky’s collar and yank him out of his seat because apparently he hadn’t gotten the idea that you two were leaving.

...

“Wow, Grandma really was a bitch,” Rebecca mutters. You hadn’t talked about your grandma. You just only ever mentioned having lived with her until moving in with Bucky. You never went into more detail and the girls just stopped asking, not that they were entirely interested in the old hag.

Rebecca continued to flip through the diary. She smiled when she read about the simple wedding they hand in your brother’s back yard in upstate New York. You had worn a crème colored sun dress. A dress Steve had accidentally stained right before you walked down the aisle.

...

“I am so sorry,” Steve apologized for the millionth time as you and your brother’s wife tried to clean the dress.

“Steve, it’s fine,” You laugh, smiling at him. 

“It’s not like it’s going to be on all night,” Your sister-in-law, winks at you. You smirk, laughing as Steve’s cheeks flamed red.

“You uh... you still look beautiful,” Steve promises. “Bucky probably won’t even notice,” Your sister scoffs and you pinch her arm. “I’ll uh... I’ll be outside,” Steve slips out. You sigh looking at the mirror. The large stain covers your entire stomach.

“Well, we knew anything that Bucky and Steve were going to be apart of was going to be interesting,” She tells you. You smile and nod.

“Definitely a wedding to remember,” You mutter.

“Alright, ladies!” You eldest brother shouts coming into the room in his best trousers and button up shirt. “You look....” Your brother starts to chuckle causing his wife to slap him upside the head.

“Just do your job and make sure she makes it down the aisle,” Your sister snaps, pointing at him threateningly. He smirks giving her a wink and a salute before smacking her ass as she leaves.

“So, you’re positive you want do to this?” He asks. “We can have a car here in 30 seconds and have you in the next state in 30 minutes,” 

“I’m fine, I want to do this,” 

“Poor bastard,” He mutters. You laugh, punching his arm. He laughs pulling you into a hug. “Come on, the sooner I can give you away the sooner I can run away,” 

“Here goes nothing,” You whispers, as you and your brother begin to walk down the aisle. 

“Make no mistake, all these people are looking at this handsome man,” Your brother whispers to you.

“More like stupid man,” You mutter back. He smirks but doesn’t say anything. Once you reach the end, he hands you to Bucky, who pulls your as close as possible.

“Nice stain. Really brings out your eyes,” He winks at you.

“You can thank Steve for the finishing touches,” You whisper. He smirks, kissing the top of your head. 

“You could be getting married in your underwear and I’d still be happy,” He whispers.

“Something tells me that you’d prefer it if I wasn’t wearing anything,”

“Hey, if the shoe fits,” You laugh leaning into him as the preacher talks in front of you two.

...

“135 years,” Rebecca whispers, once she figured out how long the two of you had been married before Bucky had died. Buck had passed a few years ago. You had never been the same but managed to stick around before you passed in your sleep on his birthday about a month ago.

Rebecca continues on. She reads a few of the shorter entries. They’re mainly milestones for you and Buck. Your first apartment together, your first car together, your first pregnancy that had unfortunately ended in a miscarriage.

A few years later, the United States enter the second world war. She read about your fear of losing Bucky. She read about the numerous attempts Steve had made to get into the Army, being rejected each time. She read how you supported Steve despite everything he does worries you. She skimmed past the parts where your brothers enlisted but stopped when she saw the part where you had enlisted.

...

Your father had been a pilot in the first world war. He told you stories and you clung to them growing up. When you got the opportunity to become an Airwomen, you jumped at the opportunity.

You knew you should have mentioned it to Bucky but he hadn’t said anything about joining the Army. You knew he would but he could have spoken to you about it first. Instead, he enlisted and showed up in his uniform. You remember being so angry but understanding why he had done it.

You were many things and petty is one of them. You didn’t talk to Bucky about joining the military because it isn’t his decision, it’s yours. The same reasoning he had for joining the army.

When you got accepted, you showed up at home in your uniform. To say Bucky was surprised is an understatement.

“What are you wearing?” Bucky asks, staring at you.

“A uniform,” You tell him. “I’ve been recruited for the Women Airforce Service Pilots program,” You explain. “I’ll be leaving for training a little bit after you. Base is in Avenger Field, Texas.“ Buck stares at you as what you told him sinks in. “I’ve been told if I go over seas, they’ll be noncombat missions,” 

“So, you just join the Air Force and not talk to me about it?” Bucky asks. You laugh and shake your head.

“You don’t get to be mad at me Buck, you didn’t talk to me about joining the Army-”

“That’s different-”

“How?!” You snap, as he stands up. “How is it different Buck? We both want to protect this country, we’re both doing it our own ways. How is it different?”

“Because it’s expected of me to go over!” Bucky shouts. “If I hadn’t volunteered I probably would have been drafted, I didn’t have a choice,”

“Oh, please, even if you had a choice you’d enlist,” You roll your eyes. “Just because I’m a female doesn’t mean that I can’t fight in the war,” You tell him. “I have every right to lay down my life just like you do,” Bucky clenches his jaw before pacing and racking his fingers through his hair.

“I know,” He grumbles, falling back on the couch. “I know you deserve the same chances as I do but that doesn’t make this any easier,” He finally meets your gaze. “I’m still coming to terms that I’m in the army. It’s just... It was easier knowing that when I leave you would still be here. Safe. I love you, Y/n. You’re it for me, you’re all I want. Joining the war... Even if it’s noncombat, you’ll still be in danger and I can’t lose you,”

“Buck, I could lose you just as easily,” You whisper, sitting beside him. “I can’t lose you Buck but I can’t stay here and wait for you to come back. I’ll lose my mind,” Bucky smiles a bit and gently pets your hair. “I love you. I wish there wasn’t a war but there is and we’re both apart of it now,”

“What is it with you and Steve?” Bucky grumbles. Your smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds you close.

“You know I can handle myself,” You whisper to him. “You and me, we’re going to be fine. We’re going to make it through this war and we’re going to have a hundred babies, everything’s going to be fine,” You shift your head to look up at him.

“I love you, so much,” He whispers. You smile, gently pressing your lips against his. “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

“Yeah, Buck,” You whisper nodding. Bucky sighs holding you tightly. “I have to do this,” 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier,” Bucky whispers. You slowly begin to grin. “You come strutting in that nice uniform,” You smirk straddling his waist.

“Now you know how I felt when you came home, Mr. Barnes,” You wink, rubbing down his chest. Bucky hums, a coy smirk on his lips.

“I’ll love you forever, baby doll,” Bucky whispers, gently holding your hips in his hand.

“No matter where we are shipped to in the world, I promise I’ll always find my way back to you,” You promise him. “I won’t let anything, not even death, keep us apart,”

“I’ll hold you too that, doll,” Bucky whispers, kissing your lips tenderly.

...

Rebecca takes a break from the diary. She makes herself some food and debates if she wants to go further. She knows that everything begins to go down hill once the two of your are separated by the war. She didn’t know if she would be able to handle your personal thoughts on what happened.

Rebecca had learned about you, Bucky and Uncle Steve in school. She had seen you all in museums. They never really intrigued her since she had the real stories at home. It’s one thing to read the stories on a random wall or listen to watered down versions from your parents and an entirely different thing to listen to your unfiltered thoughts.

Stephanie had told her and Toni what she had found in their father’s notebooks. His notebooks consisted of the same stories written down as he remembered, forgot and then remembered them again. She briefly explained the guilt he felt and just how detailed he had gone into with all the things he had done.

Rebecca knew your story would be just as traumatic and bloody. She didn’t know if reading it would taint the memory of you or not. She wanted to remember you as the loving, caring, yet badass mother you were. Not the weapon Hydra had made you into.

However, her need for the truth and her thirst for knowledge made her want to learn more. Before she knew what was happening, she was back in front of the diary.

The first thing she noticed is that your diary jumped from right before you had been kidnapped by Hydra to the 21st century after you and Bucky had been reunited with Steve.

...

“Whatcha doin’ there, doll?” Bucky asks, coming up behind you. You glance at him from your seat at the desk.

“Writing,” You whisper. “I used to do it way back when and my therapist thinks it’s a good idea I start again,” Bucky sits beside you, your thighs pressed against each other.

“Is that the same diary-?”

“Yep,” You nod, smiling a bit. “Don’t ask me how it survived but here it is,” You tell him. “Thought I could pick up where I left off,” You whisper, your mind slowly slipping back to the last entry you had made. It was two days before your plane had been shot down and you were kidnapped by Hydra.

“I’ve been writing, too,” Bucky admits. You glance at him. “It helps keeps the thoughts together but other than that...” Bucky sighs, frustratingly. 

“Hey, we’ve made it this far,” You smile, pressing your hand on his leg. “We survived the world war, survived Hydra, reconnected with Steve, became Avengers,” You laugh a bit. “At this point, I’m feeling pretty damn invincible,” You tease.

“You are, baby doll... I can’t seem to get rid of you,” He smirks.

“I do remember telling you that I wouldn’t let anything, not even death, keep us apart,” Bucky wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap. The two of you hold each other tightly.

“You did,” Bucky recalls. “And thank you, so much, for keeping that promise,” He whispers.

“You’re mine, Bucky. You’re it for me, I don’t want anybody else,” You whisper, kissing his forehead. “Sure, we may be a bit more screwed up now,” He laughs a bit. “But we can be screwed up together,”

“There’s no one else I’d rather be with,” Bucky whispers, nuzzling his head in your neck. You smile, running your fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” You whisper to him.

...

The next entries after that one were more horrific. You described the assassination's you had done. You wrote about the people you had tortured, interrogated, and killed.

Although, through all the darkness of the entries you made, something stuck out to Rebecca. You wrote about the fact that Hydra never woke you and Bucky up at the same time. 

You and Bucky had been so in love with each other that you could snap each other out of Hydra’s hold. Even if you couldn’t bring each other’s memories back, you just instinctively knew how important the other was. Nothing, not even Hydra’s agenda, was more important than keeping the other safe and close.

You two had caused so many problems with Hydra that you had to be separated. They had originally tried making you two work together but then you both disappeared. You both knew Hydra was bad and that you two were good. Hydra unfortunately found you two hiding out somewhere and recaptured you. After that, you two weren’t woken up at the same time again.

Keeping you two apart was the best decision for Hydra. Until Alexander Pierce got antsy. Captain America and Black Widow were close to taking down Hydra and stopping Project Insight that he woke both of you up despite knowing what would happen.

He was desperate and it was his downfall. The instant you and Bucky were left alone, you both turned on Hydra. You helped Steve bring down Hydra in return Steve helped you both regain your memories.

There was a little blip when they found out about Bucky killed Tony’s parents but they managed to work it out without killing each other. Eventually, you and Bucky had become close with Tony.

Tony went out of his way to sure you and Bucky were comfortable. He continuously made upgrades to Bucky’s arm. He made it to the point where Bucky could feel with it. He even made an arm that looked human, as if he had never lost it.

Against all odds, the pair of you became Avengers and saved the world.

Rebecca was proud to call you and Bucky parents. She hated that you both were gone yet happy that you two were together now. She knew that even in your late years of life the horrors of your younger years still haunted you. Now, however, the two of you were at peace together. 

[27dragons]

Relevant Experience

a fic by @27dragons​ for the @buckybarnesbingo​

Title: Relevant Experience Square: Y1 - Missing Scene Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28415016 Rating: G Warnings: None Ship: Bucky & Tony Wordcount: 519 Summary: The missing end-credits scene that they inexplicably left off of Endgame...

*

“I don’t do that anymore,” Bucky had said. He’d said it multiple times, even. But it wasn’t like he could forget how. So it was on something like instinct that he clung to the shadows as he rounded the curve of the hall toward Princess Shuri’s lab.

He didn’t want to interrupt her if she was doing something delicate, he told himself, but if he were forced to be honest, he’d have to admit he knew exactly what she was up to. And with whom.

“It just doesn’t work right,” Tony complained. He was sitting on the table, his shirt off and his back to Bucky, while Shuri examined the connections.

Tony had obviously had some amount of input into the design of his own prosthetic arm, a replacement for the ones the Infinity Stones had essentially vaporized. So it didn’t look like Bucky’s new arm at all. At least, not on the surface. Tony’s arm was -- of course -- his signature red and gold, in a design that faintly echoed some of the designs Bucky had seen in Wakandan clothing.

He wondered briefly if the designs were something inherent in the molecular structure of the vibranium, or if it was a cultural penchant for the designs that had informed the arm’s creation.

Maybe it was both.

It was a compelling enough question that Bucky almost missed seeing the bunch of muscle in Tony’s back as Tony tried again to lift the arm, overcompensating and making it fly up to smack him in the face.

Bucky couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, but he held up his hands in surrender when Tony twisted around on the table to glare at him. “Sorry,” he said, only half-meaning it. “You have to admit, it was a little funny.”

“It’d be funnier if I knew why it wasn’t working,” Tony grumbled. “I’ve been over the schematics dozens of times. So has Shuri. And Bruce. And at least half a dozen of the top scientific minds in Wakanda. We can’t figure out what’s wrong with it.”

Bucky shook his head and stepped the rest of the way into the lab. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with the arm,” he said. “You just gotta convince your brain. Develop some new pathways for the neurons.”

Tony’s eyebrow ticked up. “When did you learn to talk science?” He looked at Shuri. “When did he learn to talk science?” he demanded. “He’s not allowed to be a hot supersoldier and smart, that’s just greedy.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You think I wasn’t gonna learn every damn thing she was willing to teach me about what she was going to hook up to my own head? C’mon, Tony, let the princess get back to work. I’ve been through this a couple times, now. I can help you more than she can, at this point.”

Tony considered him, expressionless, and Bucky wondered what was going on in his head. Tony’s poker face could rival the Winter Soldier’s.

Finally, though, the genius nodded once, short and sharp. “Fine,” he said, sliding off the table and grabbing for his shirt. “Let’s do this.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Like Real People Do

Warnings: noncon/dubcon elements (rough sex, oral), deception.

This is dark!Loki and ft. some Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You’re a temp in Stark Tower by day and a fanfic writer by night. What happens when your professional life collides with your secret hobby?

Note: Brief break from HSB but I’m gonna be working on that today and hopefully figuring out when I’ll finish my other pending series. I need to wrap some stuff up so I can move on to newer series, etc. But for now, I hope you like some sneaky Loki.(inspired by an anon ask) Love you guys!

Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

It was your second week at the tower. You were still in disbelief. Working with larger than life heroes. Literally. And a paid internship no less. It was like a scene out of your very own fic. Well, those could stay a secret. Especially here. 

The golden haired vet and his billionaire pal didn't need to know about your blog. Or that they were the main attraction of it. Or that you had a notebook in your bag of all the ideas that came to you as you typed away at your desk. And who would guess the new assistant was anything but a chipper upstart?

It was almost thrilling. Smiling at them as the plots whirred in your mind. The comments of other thirsty fangirls. And it was all harmless. Just fantasies. Dreams. You'd get your job experience and be on the way all while fueling your illicit hobby. 

It was busy that day. Traffic came in and out as you waved them along and checked in when Tony buzzed. It was an easy job and time passed quickly with the people.

As you looked up, you almost rolled your chair out from under you.  You dropped your pen and quickly retrieved it from your desk. You smiled up at the burly man as he approached you, a thinner, just a familiar man at his shoulder.

"Hello," You sang as you stood to greet him. "You here to see Tony?"

"Why yes I am," The large blonde boomed in response. "You are new here, my lady?"

"Started just over a week ago," You introduced yourself as he offered his hand. "And you're Thor obviously."

He smiled as the other man rolled his eyes. You righted yourself and shook off your excitement. You glanced at him meekly and cleared your throat. 

"Ah, yes, and this is Loki, my brother," Thor chuckled. "He's the quiet type."

You nodded and sat back down. "I'll let him know you're here if you wanna head in."

"Certainly, but if you don't mind, my brother will stay out here." He elbowed Loki playfully, "He's not exactly permitted beyond the desk."

"It was a joke," Loki grumbled, "Your midgardian friends need to evolve a sense of humour."

"Just sit down," Thor turned back to Loki. "And don't give her too much trouble."

Loki rolled his eyes again and retreated. "Don't worry, brother," He sat among the line of chairs, "I'm not so easily amused."

Thor sighed and turned back as he headed past your desk with another smile.  Loki leaned back and draped one leg over the other. You took out your cell and hid it behind your monitor as you checked your notifications. 

You scrolled for a while and set it aside. Several visitors and regulars passed but a tension remained. The office phone rang and you answered with your usual chime. You turned halfway in the chair as you took the call.

You got down to search through the files in your drawer and as you sat up, you found a lithe figure standing not far from your desk. Loki examined the framed photo of Stark and his lab in London. You finished up your call and hung up as he turned away.

He sat again and tapped his toe impatiently. He ran his long fingers down the lapel of his dark suit as he leaned heavily on his elbow. His green eyes stared dully at the wall opposite him, just right of your desk. You peeked at him and squinted. He caught you before you could look away. He smirked.

You looked down and scribbled along the border of the calendar across your desk. You could sense him watching you. You ignored him as you waited for his brother to return. You slid your phone closer and swiped it open. A message blipped in your inbox.

‘Very intriguing stories’. It read. You hurriedly tapped in a ‘thank you’, hit send and locked your phone again. You stared at the screensaver as it bubbled up the monitor.

Finally, you heard that deep voice again. You glanced over your shoulder as Thor appeared beside your desk with Tony. They chuckled as they neared but Loki did not rise. 

“Fine. You keep him in line and I can put up with him. I let the rest of the team know.” Tony said.

“Oh, you know, he’s not all bad,” Thor grinned at Loki and beckoned him over with two fingers. He didn’t move. “He’s a changed god. Trust me.”

“Mmhmm,” Tony hummed skeptically. “We’ll see but you understand, it all comes down on you.”

“You two are much more alike than you think,” Thor laughed. “You both worry too much!” He turned and swept over to Loki. “Come on, brother, before your sour face changes his mind.”

Loki stood with a huff but followed his brother out; chin held high and eyebrow arched. Tony shook his head and leaned on your desk. 

“Word of warning: avoid that one.” He grumbled and you nodded with a shy smile. “Oh, and, coffee. Please. Need it after that one.”

🖋️

Thor and Loki became another staple in the office. By the end of your first month, you were over being star struck. The avengers, the worldly heroes, they were all just your co-workers. And they were nice. Nat brought you a frap every now and then, Steve always went out of his way to say hi, and Bruce was just happy to have someone who would smile and nod through his scientific spiels.

And your blog was booming.

Every night when you got home, you wrote and posted as much as you could. Your small following had doubled and so had your enthusiasm. You might’ve felt a tinge of guilt as you sat across the desk from America’s saviour or his grungy best friend, but they made for steamy fics. Besides, you reminded yourself, it was fiction. You knew the difference between fantasy and reality.

That didn’t always keep you from daydreaming in the office. That day you found yourself doing so several times as Tony stayed late for his last meeting and you were chained to your desk until he was done. You spun lazily in your chair and checked your phone every now and then. You wanted to write but you didn’t dare do that on a work computer.

Finally, the door opened and you looked over as the two shadows neared. Steve clapped Tony on the back. You sat, patiently patient, as you tore yourself from your thoughts. Tony checked his watch as Steve bid you farewell and waited for him to leave before he turned to you.

“Well, kid, I guess you can head out,” He said. “See ya tomorrow, bright and early?”

“You sure?” You asked coyly.

“Don’t push me. I can always find some colour-coding that needs to be done.” He teased. “I gotta find Pepper before she finds me.” He straightened his jacket. “Have a good one. And wish me luck… I’m only about an hour late.”

He strode out and you stood from your chair with a long stretch. Maybe you’d ask for an upgrade in seating. You packed up your purse and the elevator dinged again. You looked up, surprised. Steve waved awkwardly as he entered. 

“Hey, you know, I was just about to leave and I realised, well, it’s late and…” He shrugged, “You need a ride?”

“A ride?” You repeated as you grabbed your blazer from the back of your chair. “Oh, you really don’t have to--”

“It’s dark and kinda chilly. I got heated seats,” He offered. “But I can understand if you prefer those luxury subway recliners.”

 “Alright, you’ve twisted my arm.” You rounded the desk and neared him. “Thanks, Steve. You’re a real hero.”

“Well, that’s what they say,” He smiled as he led you to the elevator and hit the button. “So, where exactly am I going?”

🖋️

Once you were in the car, you were near giddy. It was a bit reminiscent of your last fic. An indulgence on your part. You resisted the urge to pull out your phone as you smiled at him from your seat, his sparkling blue eyes reflected the street lights. Captain America, the Captain America, was driving you home.

Alright, alright, settle down. He was just a man and he was just being nice. And you were terribly quiet, weren’t you?

“Um, so, how was your day?” You asked nervously.

“Ah, usual,” He said. “Tony’s such a perfectionist. We’re headed… we’ll, we’re due for a mission and he’s been lecturing me about ‘unnecessary heroics’, although I call those my job.”

“Mmm,” You nodded emphatically. “Sounds exciting… dangerous.”

“Surely more than riding a desk,” He chuckled. “How’s it going, anyway? You ready to bring a pillow with you or what?”

“Ha, yeah,” You scoffed. “I mean, I’ve had worse. There was an unpaid internship I had entirely in a mail room. Amazing experience.”

“Sounds like,” He returned as the GPS guided him down your street. “You should see if Tony can show you around the lab. He’s always keen to show off his latest toys.”

“Maybe I will,” You chirped as he pulled into your building lot. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t feel right. I was already there and--” He put the car into park as he looked at you. “And well, I’ll be honest. Forgive me if it’s a little forward but… we don’t really get much time, do we? In the office, there’s so many distractions and interruptions--”

You giggled nervously as he stretched his arm over the back of your seat.

“What I’m trying to say is it was my pleasure.”

You looked down shyly. Your cheeks burned and you slowly looked back up. You squeaked as his lips met yours. You tried to pull away but he only leaned in more. While it wasn’t entirely unwanted, you couldn’t help but think of your internship. He didn’t seem the type for one night stands and you weren’t exactly fond of the idea of an office romance; even with him.

“Steve,” You finally parted, breathless.

“Sorry, sorry, I just…” He sat back and looked at his hands meekly. “I had to. I’m sorry if I--”

“Really, it… it was nice but I just don’t think…”

“You liked it though?” He interrupted.

“Of course, I mean, I--” You caught yourself and squeezed the strap of your purse. “I can’t really afford to lose this internship and this could--”

“No one needs to know,” He blurted out. “I know how these things are nowadays. I just… I really like you.”

“I don’t know,” You bit your lip. “I… um…”

“Look, I won’t pressure you.” He raised his hands. “I just was putting myself out there. I guess… bad timing.”

You looked at your purse then back to him. You peered around the car. Who would know? Well, you would and Steve would. Things might get awkward if you were to… Then again, this was a dream come true. Were you really going to get out of this car alone? You couldn’t help but wonder if reality lived up to fiction.

“You’re right,” You said quietly. “No one needs to know.”

🖋️

Steve had you off the floor before the door was closed. Your purse bounced across the carpet as he carried you past the doormat and the flimsy coat rack. He blindly lumbered around with you in his arms, your lips locked together. He fell onto the couch with you beneath him as you pushed the leather of his coat down his shoulders.

He parted to help you untangle it from his arms and was just as quick to tear your blazer off and toss it away. His tee shirt was next and your blouse barely kept its buttons as he ripped it off. You never expected such vigour from him; more a doting sore of intimacy, not that you were complaining. 

You slipped out of your heeled oxfords and he kicked off his own shoes as you admired his torso. Every muscle rippled beneath his flawless skin and for a moment, you felt a tickle of insecurity. Look at him. He was perfect.

The jingle of his buckle drew you back. You bit your tongue eagerly as you stood and wiggled out of your stuffy dress pants. His eyes followed your hands as you bared your thighs and stepped out of the wool. With his fly undone, he reached out and drew you to him. He kissed you again as you straddled his lap.

His hands were swift in unhooking your bra. Another surprise. You always dreamt of the clumsy pan plucked from the past. You dropped the undergarment down your arms as he cupped your tits. You flung it away and wrapped your arms around him. You tossed your head back as his lips tickled your throat and rocked atop his lap. He groaned and ran his thumbs over your nipples.

You purred and felt along his chiseled torso. You pushed your hand past his jeans and the elastic of his briefs. Your fingers slipped below as he gasped against your throat. You gripped his cock and slowly moved your hand between your bodies. He was thick and just as big as you imagined; maybe bigger. 

He bent his head and kissed along your chest. You arched your back and twined your fingers through his hair. You held him to you as you stroked him and he kneaded your ass hungrily. He lifted his ass easily with you atop him and shoved his pants down his thighs until he sprung out. 

You carried your motion as he fell back against the couch. His hands trailed up your sides and back again. He gripped your hips then dragged his nails down your thighs. He nodded as you bit your lip and got up on your knees. You hovered over him and shed your panties. You straddled him again and lined him up with your entrance. You lowered yourself onto him as you slid your hand down his length. 

He squeezed your thighs and let out a long moan as you took all of him. You pulled your hand away and grasped his shoulders. He was a lot and your walls strained around him. You shuddered and his fingers danced up your curves.

“Go slow,” He said.

You nodded and tilted your pelvis carefully. Your breaths were shaky as you lifted yourself up and he impaled you once more. You leaned back with your hands on his thighs as you tried to ease the pressure. His eyes roved your body as you rocked your hips, slowly building your tempo.

“That’s it,” He uttered. 

He explored your body with one hand and his other rested just below your stomach. He pressed his thumb to your clit. You bucked and sped up as he played with you. You huffed as you arched your back and rode him wildly. Your eyes rolled back as you chased your orgasm. The tendrils that stretched over your flesh and strangled you in bliss.

Your climax shook you. He grasped your hips and kept you moving as your arms trembled weakly. “So naughty,” He whispered. His voice was low, dusky; so unlike his own. “So delectable.”

Your vision was blurry as you lifted your head. You let him use your body as another orgasm rose. You sat up as he guided you up and down his cock. You whined as you came and closed your eyes in rapture.

You cried out as you were suddenly flipped onto you back. He didn’t miss a beat as he fucked you into the cushions, your legs splayed around him. His snarls were animalistic, ravenous, as he rutted into you. You babbled and grabbed weakly at his thick arms planted beside your head.

He pulled out and grunted. A warmth spilled down your thighs as he pushed himself back onto his knees. He watched as he stroked himself over the edge and his golden hair fell forward. You sighed as you touched your forehead dazily. He caressed your thighs as he caught his breath.

“Wow,” You murmured.

“Yeah,” He panted. “Wow.”

🖋️

In the back of your mind, you dreaded the early morning but you were too elated to care. Too intoxicated by your lust to worry about the body next to you as you fell asleep. Your double bed was barely big enough for both of you but you didn’t mind his warmth as he slung his arm over you. You dozed contently; floating in a river of bliss.

You woke with a snort. Your face was buried in the pillow and the sky was still dark outside. You sat up groggily and felt your way to the bathroom. You relieved yourself and rinsed off the remnants of your tumble. You stumbled back to the bedroom, eager to squeeze in a few more hours before you had to drag yourself back to the tower. 

You tiptoed out to the living room and grabbed your phone before you got back into bed, careful not to disturb your guest. As you laid back and lit up your phone, you dropped it on your chest. You lifted it and held up the glow to the pillow next to yours. That wasn’t Steve.

You swore loudly and threw your phone at Loki. His eyes shot open as yours began to adjust to the dark. You pushed yourself up as he caught your wrist. A low snicker sent a chill through you as he tugged you closer. His arm snaked up below you and he pulled you against him.

“’His eyes spoke of his sin, but his body promised heaven.’” He slithered and you froze. “Poetry, almost.”

“You-- How did you--” You cringed at your own words; written for your lascivious blog.

“I do wonder what he would think,” Loki clung to you as you squirmed. “I don’t think he’d be so eager as all that.”

“How could you-- You tricked me,” You pushed against his shoulders.

“I gave you what you wanted,” He said. “And you can’t say you didn’t enjoy it, dear.”

“I thought you were...him,” You stuttered. “I never would have--”

“I can be him,” You felt the change, heard it in his voice. “Or maybe another favourite.” His voice deepened and you recognized Bucky’s sonorous tones.

“No, no,” You whined desperately. “Stop! Please.”

“Stop?” His voice returned to normal and he turned so that you were atop him, his arms firmly around you. “Oh, but I am your biggest fan, dear. I have but one suggestion.” He stared at you through the dim. “I’d be a great addition to your repertoire.”

“You’re sick!” You snarled. “You--you--”

“I know your secret,” He sneered. “I admit, your little tales would make for some fascinating conversation among those ridiculous Avengers but I think you might just find yourself no longer welcome among them.”

“You wouldn’t,” You hissed.

“What makes you think that?” He taunted.

“What do you want?” You breathed.

“I’m sure your dirty little mind can answer that,” His hand wandered lower and you felt the twitch between you. “Hmm?”

You shook your head; mortified, shocked.

“You can resist it but I feel your heart racing; the heat coursing through your veins… mmm, that would make for great prose, wouldn’t it?”

“Please…” You begged.

“Oh, I can please you,” He said. “You just have to let me, dear.”

He rolled you onto your back in a moment and his hand crawled along your stomach cloyingly. You stared at him, his silhouette limned in the dull light that streamed in past the curtains. He slowly retreated as he lowered his head. His lips made you shiver as he laid a trail of kiss along your chest.

“Loki…” You whispered.

“Louder,” He spoke against your skin.

“Loki,” You said louder. “Please, don’t.”

He continued his path along your stomach, a hand played with your tits blindly as he did. You trembled as he reached the vee of your pelvis. His teeth grazed your hip bone and you closed your eyes. You caught his hand on your chest.

“Loki,” You said again.

“My dear,” He raised his head. “I’m about to put your stories to shame.”

He slipped his fingers up along your ass and between your folds. You winced as he bent his head and his cool tongue met his fingers at your clit. You inhaled sharply and tilted your pelvis against him. He purred in approval as he swirled his tongue around your clit.

You reached down to stop him and he flicked his tongue. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you urged him on. Your legs bent around him as he nestled between them. He hooked his hands around your thighs and held on as he lost himself in you. You writhed as he suckled and lapped, soon breathless and mewling.

You bucked your hips as you came and he held you firm as he coaxed you over the edge. He was slow to pull away and you covered your face as he sat up in the dark. 

“Don’t be shy, dear,” He drew your hands away from your face. “You don’t have to be with me. I know everything. I’ve read every story a dozen times.” He pinned your hands beside your head. “And I want to live them all.”

He held you down as he dipped his pelvis. You felt his tip along your cunt and held your breath. There was one part of himself he hadn’t changed. The head of his cock slid along your folds and he slowly pushed inside as he found your entrance. You gasped as he plunged into you entirely. He lingered and basked in the feel of you around him.

He wasn’t slow this time. Or gentle. As he thrust, he jerked your entire body and the bed swayed beneath you. You were still tender from before and you whimpered as he rocked into you. His motion was deliberate and deep. He was sure to make you feel it. He squeezed your wrists until your fingers were numb.

“Say it,” He snarled as he pounded into you. “Say my name.”

“Loki,” You cried out. “Loki!”

“Again!” He commanded.

You repeated his name over and over, though you weren’t sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going. It wasn’t long before your core was once more buzzing. You pushed your head back into the pillow and gritted your teeth as the chant turned erratic. You squealed as you came, the syllables uttered pathetically.

He released your wrist as he sat back. He grabbed your legs and pulled them up against his torso but never wavered. He hammered into you as he held your legs to his shoulders and you groped desperately at the blanket. The springs of the bed were noisy and added to the salacious sounds of your fucking. 

He stopped suddenly. A few final spasms as he hugged your legs to him and gave a soft groan. You felt the warmth seep through you. He dropped your legs and they fell around him as he breathed heavily. He rocked his hips a few times before he pulled out of you. You could feel his cum as it leaked out onto the sheets.

He ran his hand along your thigh and squeezed it. He nudged you and when you didn’t move, he forcefully rolled you over. He slapped your ass as he pushed your legs together and straddled your thighs. You lifted your head and he shoved it back down..

“My dear,” He slithered. “I think I might just be your best story.”

[simsadventures]

Better Like This: Chapter 2: I Need Answers

Chapter Summary: You can’t wrap your head around the actions of what you think is your mate, so you try to distract yourself by diving into your first case with the SVU. You are, however, not willing to let go and you need your answers. Will Bucky talk to you, or is he going to try to stay clear from you as long as possible? And why is he acting like such a jerk?

Warnings: mentions of rape, a/b/o dynamics,, Alpha!Bucky, Omega!reader swearing, rejected mate, angst (I guess), fluffy Scott, sad reader

Word Count: 2474

A/N: I just wanted to thank you guys for the kind words after publishing the first part. You are the best. I can always take suggestions, so if you want something to happen, let me know and I’ll see what I can do with that :) xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 

< Previous Chapter

You stood there, staring at the closed doors, your brain void of any thoughts. You wanted to think something, really, but your brain just stopped working the second the Alpha ran out of the door. 

You also didn’t hear the way the team shut up, trying to figure out what the hell just happened, and why did one of their own just bolt seeing you, as if the electricity went through his body. 

The first one to speak up was Tony. “Well, that was weird and awkward. That was Sargent Barnes, and the guy not running away from here is detective Sam Wilson.” Sam nodded your way and shrugged his shoulders apologetically, not really knowing how to explain his partner’s behaviour. 

You shook your head, trying to get rid of all the negative thoughts creeping into your mind once again and looked at the Captain, silently begging him to talk about something, anything really. 

He obviously took the hint as he spoke as soon as he looked your way. “Ok, that is almost our whole team, you’ll meet Clint, our tech guy later. So, to get to the work, before detective Y/L/N came in, I got a call from 76th precinct. They believe they have one of our cases. An Omega was raped and almost strangled to death in her home by what they believe was some young Alpha, but that is as far as they got. They would like us to take it from there, so, Y/L/N, Lang, you go to the hospital and talk to our victim, make sure they are treating her right. Wilson, go find Barnes, and you guys go the crime scene. And make sure Bucky calls me, he’s got things to explain. Stark, to the 76th precinct, get all the files they made for this case and debrief the detectives working on the case, the more information, the better. You know the drill guys, let’s get to work. Dismissed.” 

With that, he turned around and strode to his office. Scott jabbed you lightly to your ribs and pretty much dragged you out fo the place, for you were still very much frozen by Bucky’s (or whatever) actions. 

“C’mon dude, let’s go help some people. And you can tell me what that was all about in the car.” He smirked at you. 

“I wish I fucking knew, Scott. I-I-“you stuttered. You didn’t really feel the need to tell him how you thought Bucky was your true mate. You did know him for about 15 minutes. “I’ve never met this guy before, you know? No idea what’s his problem.” You shrugged, deciding that not telling the whole truth was just safer. For now. At least you thought so.

“I do believe you, dude, it was the little whine that’s making me question shit.” Fuck! “No idea what you’re talking about,” you shrugged, trying to sound as convincing as you possibly could. “I’m that kind of person who just wants to get along with everyone, so you just probably heard my disappointment when I saw someone obviously not liking me from the very first second,” you concluded. 

It wasn’t a lie entirely, you did want to get along with everyone, but you would never whine just like that, had you not had your reasons. Scott just hummed in response and the rest of the drive to the hospital was in comfortable silence. 

Meanwhile, in front of Sam’s car, the situation looked a bit different. He yelled at Bucky for bolting like this, wanting to know the reason. “What’s gotten into you, man? Do you like know her or something? Have you knotted her during your rut and never called her again, or what? Talk to me, man.” 

“I don’t know her, and I don’t want to know her, there’s that. Not that it would be any of your business, or anything.” Bucky almost growled. Sam just raised his eyebrow and sarcastically rolled his eyes. Bucky’s been his partner for the last 5 years, and one of his best friends for about the same amount of time. He knew when his friend was full of shit, but also knew when he should actually shut up if he didn’t want to experience the wrath of the Metal Arm. Bucky didn’t get this one of his nicknames coincidentally, and Sam was unfortunate enough to have been on the receiving end of the wrath far too many times. Bucky was a good guy, it was just that his temper got the best of him sometimes. 

“Yeah, before I forget, Steve wanted you to call him and explain yourself to him.” 

“I don’t need to explain anything, I went out, end of the story, now get in the car so we can actually start working, you ass.” 

“I’m the ass here, huh? Have you looked in the mirror today, Barnes? ‘Cause you’re the only one looking like a pile of shit.” Sam almost didn’t get to finish his sentence as Bucky punched his shoulder, but Sam was too used to it now. He just laughed and made a mental note to keep a good eye on his friend.

The talk with the victim was very short because her throat was so damaged, the only thing she was able to do (and even that she did barely) was nodding or shaking her answering your and Scott’s questions. All you got from her, was that she woke up in the middle of the night, feeling a certain uneasiness in her bones. This sixth sense of hers was true for right in front of her bed stood a tall man, an Alpha, with a mask on his face. You didn’t want to go in too much detail, and you really couldn’t because of her injury. 

You were actually lucky to have any kind of conversation with her because about 10 minutes into your “dialogue” she started to lose consciousness and they had to rush into the OR. 

But what you did get from the visit to the hospital, was the conversation you had with one of the victim’s doctors. She told you that the victim had what looked like bruises made by fingers, even showing you and Scott some photos they took so you could have a closer look. 

“Can we have those?” you asked, full-on detective by now. “Of course, we have one copy here for later examination and to contrast the healing, but these were made specifically for you.” You smiled thankfully at her and bid your goodbyes before heading towards Scott’s car (you guess as he was your partner that it would be ok to call the car yours too). 

“So what do you think we’re dealing with here?” Scott asked you once you were seated and on your way towards the headquarters. “I have no idea yet, but probably some sick bastard who can’t even show his face while attacking an innocent and helpless Omega.” Scott just hummed in agreement, and the rest of the ride was spent by talking about his Omega, Hope, who was a scientist and a hell of a one, from what Scott was saying. He was so in love, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift back to your mate, the one abandoning you in front of the whole team without as much as an acknowledgement. 

Once you came to the headquarters, you immediately smelt the most delicious thing, once again, your Alpha. Or rather, the Alpha you felt like should be yours but was far from it. 

He looked up too, only to shake his head as if in disapproval and continued his talk with Sam and Natasha. You wanted to do something, your mind was picking between breaking into a sobbing mess and smacking the Alpha across his face with the closest object you could find.

Before you could do any of the two (and you were suddenly more inclined to hurt the asshole), your Captain came in the view. “So, what’s the status? What did we find, team?” The room fell silent and everyone grouped into a half-circle so that everyone could see everyone. Yay, just what you needed!

“The detectives from the 76th didn’t really know anything, they spoke to some people who thought they heard some noises, but most of them were seniors who couldn’t really remember what day it was so there’s that. One guy, though, said that he saw a tall Alpha running by him, around 2.30 AM, which seems like the time the guy left our victim. But it was dark, and the guy couldn’t see much, so I’m not sure if we can get anything out of it. He’s in one of the conference rooms, and I’ll go talk to him and try and get more information, but I don’t think there will be much, Cap.” Tony concluded his findings. 

“The crime scene was a mess, Steve,” your Alpha (you had to remind yourself that he wasn’t your freaking Alpha) Bucky said. “We were able to get a picture of what happened and how it happened, but the techs were already there, so if he left something there, they would’ve found it. What we could tell, was that he got there from the window, motherfucker must have climbed the fire-stairs, unhooked the window and was it and the poor Omega didn’t stand a chance.” He shrugged and you could have sworn it was the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. God, you were pathetic!

It was now your turn to speak up, and you could feel all the eyes on you. All of them except the ones you actually wanted to feel. You shook off the disappointment and told the team about your findings. Captain nodded after you concluded your little speech and dismissed all of you, letting you work on your own. 

You saw Bucky turning around and starting to leave the circle, and you decided to follow him. You needed your answers, and you needed them now!

“Hey, Barnes, can I have a word?” you whisper-yelled at him. He looked taken aback by your approach but shook off any emotion from his face before speaking up. 

“I don’t really wanna talk to you, so if I can choose, then no, you can’t have a word with me.” And with that he turned around and started to walk away once again. He had the nerve to walk away from you just like that! Naah, you weren’t having it, not this time!

“I would appreciate it if we could have a conversation, and somewhere private, preferably.” 

You didn’t even realise it, but he was not standing right in front of you, towering over you and silently growling. “We aren’t going anywhere together. Look, I don’t know what you think you feel but don’t. I’m not looking for an Omega, never wanted one, never will want one, so deal with it. You are all the same, and I want no part in that,” he growled the whole time and finally turned around and walked towards Sam, who was watching the interaction and silently waiting for Bucky to join him. 

Didn’t want an Omega? All the same? What? WHAT? You had no clue what was happening, and if it were up to you, you would’ve crawled under some table and just cry and pity yourself, because your true mate just basically rejected you. 

But, and for the first time today, you had Scott behind your ass the whole time, and you were really thankful for it, who now grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the place. You looked towards the table which was shared by Sam and Bucky. Scott didn’t miss your tilted head, nor did he miss the very silent, but very present whine that escaped your throat. He looked towards that table too and put a protective arm around your shoulders to lead you out of there. 

“You don’t need to speak about it, but let me tell you one thing. Bucky- he is a strange guy. He is one hell of a detective, hell, he’s solved more cases than me, Natasha and Tony combined. But he is also very closed off, I mean, the first three months with the unit, he wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence, he would always look through me, or something. Only after I “proved” to him that I was worth his time would he start talking to me.

Look, I don’t know what his problem is, the Cap just told me he had it rough. All I know is that he was in a war and that it probably scarred him for life. I don’t know if he’s your true mate or what, but just… Give it time, let him see what I see the first second after meeting you and what I hope I’ll get to know more from now on. You are a fantastic detective, we all know that, and believe me, when I say it, you are an amazing person too. I can just smell that, call it a sixth sense, or something. So, just give him time, and if he doesn’t pull his head out of his ass, I’ll be the first one to beat the shit out of him.” 

You were now sitting in a local pub, each of you nursing a bear. You couldn’t help but wonder what did you do to deserve a partner like Scott, who after spending just one day with you, an Omega, for God’s sake, was willing to beat someone up because they were hurting you.

You smiled at him. “Thank you, Scott, you can’t even imagine how much this means to me. But trust me, if he doesn’t give up that attitude of his, I’ll be the first one breaking a chair on his back. You can beat him up after that.” 

Scott laughed at your little outburst and shook his head. “You’re something else, Y/N. But deal!” 

But while you were leaving with Scott, too busy with your own thoughts, Bucky was having some thoughts on his own. He had to stifle a growl threatening to escape his chest when he saw Scott protectively putting an arm around you, his Omega. NO! He had to stop himself from thinking about you like that. 

Of course, he knew you were supposed to be his from the very second he stepped into the office. He buzzed all morning, knew something was up, but never expected to meet his true mate. But he couldn’t let you in. Just couldn’t. His heart wouldn’t take another heartbreak, and that’s why he tried so hard to stay away from you, even though his Alpha side was screaming for you. Luckily, he had enough self-control to never let this side win.

At least he hoped so. 

 / Next Chapter >

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[myarmsaretoolong]

@whumptober2020​​​ Prompt #17: “You Didn’t See That Coming” - Presumed Dead

Word Count: 5283

Warnings: Blood (Minor) | Mentions of Death | Kidnapping | Serious Injury | Hospital Scenes

Synopsis: When the mission goes south, and Peter is kidnapped right under Tony’s nose, the only thing he has left is hope to someday be reunited

Read Under the Cut | Read on AO3

The mission wasn’t going well.

Herman Schultz, Shocker, The-Guy-Who-Peter-Webbed-to-a-Bus-and-Sent-to-Prison, whatever you wanted to call him, decided to cause havoc on a quiet Queens evening; Tony and Peter went out to put a stop to it. Naively confident he’d pose a weak threat.

It started okay, the superhero duo came this close to taking Shocker down when he’d hit them with a powerful EMP blast. Not only did it knock out all power within a ten-block radius, but it disabled both of their suits, too. Peter fared better out of the two, using the momentum from his swing to land on the side of an apartment block, but Tony took a five-story shortcut to the ground.

He landed hard, rattling around inside the suit as it bounced and rolled across the tarmac, safe in the knowledge he’d be nursing bruises for days. “Fri?” he called, breathless from shock and trying to piece together why he now lay in a mysterious puddle in the street gutter. Of course, Friday didn’t respond. Looking out of the eye slits, Tony saw Shocker stalking towards him and fumbled for the manual suit releases.

The suit sprung open and Tony shot to his feet, leaping over to the pavement while trying to form a plan.

Peter landed on Shocker’s head; he may be lacking his web-shooters, but still had super-strength. They fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs and, after a short scuffle in which Tony couldn’t quite make out who’s arms were who’s, Peter jumped to his feet and looked down at the unmoving Shocker by his feet.

Satisfied he wasn’t getting up, Peter ran over to Tony, glancing at the still open suit as he passed. “Mister Stark, are you alright?”

Tony wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think.”

“I’m okay, kid. Really.” Tony walked back to his suit and crouched down, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t suppose you’re there, Fri?”

After a long pause, Peter answered for her. “I think that might be a ‘no’.”

Tony nodded slowly. “I’m starting to think the same.” He straightened up and turned to Peter. “Is it bad form for a couple of Avengers to call an Uber?”

“Probably,” Peter shrugged, “but I also don’t want to lug that thing back to the compound. ‘Cause we both know who’ll be carrying it.” He muttered the last part.

“What was that?” Tony raised an eyebrow, his head tilted slightly to the side. “I dragged it through the snow in Tennessee once I’ll have you know."

“Yes, I know. We all know.” Peter rolled his eyes as he spoke. “You’ve told that story a thousand times.”

Tony stared at Peter for a long moment. “I’m choosing to ignore that comment. Now,” he held out his hand, palm up. “give me your phone, I’m going to call… Someone.”

“What about your phone?” Peter said, stepping back indignantly.

“Don’t have pockets in the suit, kid. Just hand it ov-AAAA!” One of Shocker’s blasts hit Tony in the side, sending him twenty feet in the air and smacking into the side of an apartment building before falling back to the floor.

Peter lunged after Shocker, but the latter got there first and caught Peter in the chest with an electric bolt, knocking the air from his lungs as he tumbled backwards head over heels. He managed to push himself up to his knees, unaware of Shocker sneaking up behind him.

“Kid, look out!” Tony yelled. Or at least, hoped he did, everything sounded muffled, and the world swam in front of his eyes. He touched a hand to the back of his head, and it came away crimson.

He watched helplessly as Peter turned around, too late to avoid Shocker’s punch that connected with the side of his head. The kid crumpled to the floor, out cold. Tony managed to drag himself up to sit against the side of the apartment block as Shocker paced towards him, a maniacal grin on his face. “Oh, I’m going to have fun doing this, Stark.”

Tony spat out a wad of blood and met Shocker’s eyes with evil intent. “Do your worst.” Shocker raised his gauntlet. Tony prayed for a miracle.

But this was the real world. And in the real world, miracles didn’t happen.

Electricity coursed through Tony’s body, setting off every nerve ending across every inch of his skin. He screamed out the pain through gritted teeth, unable to open his mouth as the electricity tensed his muscles. Shocker didn’t let up. Tony could feel his insides twisting and turning to mush as darkness crept in the edges of his vision. Blood dripped from his nose and ears, pooling with that already staining the ground.

The last thing he remembered before succumbing to the darkness, was Shocker’s crazed laugh.

* * *

Rhodey sat by Tony’s bedside, still in the same uncomfortable armchair he’d left maybe a handful of times since they brought him back to the compound. The chair’s scratchy material almost began to feel normal against his skin.

He’d been monitoring their mission back at the Avengers Facility, trying to convince Tony to accept backup. He’d refused, of course, saying him and the kid had everything under control. When Friday lost connection to both of their suits, Rhodey assembled the team and had them suited in the Quinjet within minutes.

The flight to Queens hadn’t taken long, but the sight that greeted them… Rhodey would never be able to forget it. The first thing he saw - or rather, didn’t see - was the dark patch on the horizon. No streetlights, no glow bleeding out of apartment windows, not even the garish red and blue flicker from a neon sign in a bodega window. Next, he saw Tony’s suit, the front folded open, abandoned in a gutter.

Then his stomach turned over. Tony lay at the bottom of an apartment building in a pool of blood. That blood, too, stained his undershirt and oozed down his face from a gallery of slashes through his skin. Rhodey rushed to his side as soon as the Quinjet door opened, checking over his vitals and shouting orders at the others to get him and the suit safely aboard the jet.

The last thing he only noticed as they carried Tony from the pavement. Tire marks, freshly lain on the road, as if someone made a quick getaway.

That was three days ago.

Bruce popped his head around the door to the medbay, startling Rhodey back to the present, and nodded his head backwards, gesturing for Rhodey to follow him. He stood from the chair, suppressing a groan as his muscles protested from being still for so long - not because he was quickly approaching his mid-fifties, definitely not that - and padded over to Bruce in the doorway.

“Any change?” Bruce asked, his eyes falling sadly on Tony’s prone form. He almost looked peaceful, carefully tucked under a blanket and head resting on only the softest of pillows. But the still healing cuts on his face and splints holding various broken bones still ruined that. Instead, he looked like a man haunted by a past he wished he’d forget.

Rhodey shook his head, arms folded across his chest. “But no news is good news, right?” He spoke in a whisper, as if making too much noise would disturb Tony’s rest. “It means he’s not getting any worse.”

“Shocker really did a number on him. Doctor Cho said it’d take time for him to recover.” Bruce squeezed Rhodey’s forearm sympathetically. He smiled gratefully at the other man, knowing seeing Tony this way hurt Bruce just as much as him. “Besides, he’s finally getting a good night’s sleep.”

“Not even Pepper could manage that,” Rhodey chuckled, dropping his chin to his chest. “You know Tony, he’s a fighter. He’ll pull through.”

A grave expression fell across Bruce’s face, his eyes returning to Tony in the bed. “I don’t want to be the one to tell him the news.”

Rhodey sighed and looked to the floor, leaning against the door frame. “My turn to ask if you have an update.”

Bruce didn’t reply straight away, but eventually spoke up. “Yeah.”

“I’m guessing it’s bad news.”

“Yeah.”

Rhodey raked a hand over his face, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. “How bad?”

Voices sounded from around the corner, too far away to make out but mostly likely Pepper and Morgan coming to visit Tony. “We should talk somewhere else,” Bruce said, turning his head towards the sound.

“Yeah,” Rhodey looked down the corridor as they rounded the corner, nodding a greeting to Pepper. He turned back to Bruce, “Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a minute.” Bruce nodded and left, giving a wave to Pepper and pulling a silly face at Morgan to make her giggle before he headed towards the command center.

Pepper held Morgan on her hip, bouncing her playfully as they walked up to Rhodey. The whole team silently decided that, with her dad laid up in a hospital bed, it was best to stay cheerful around Morgan. They obviously hadn’t told her the full story, just that Tony had been hurt while working and needed to sleep for a while until he felt better - which wasn’t technically a lie.

“Hey there, Squirt,” Rhodey beamed, reaching out to take Morgan. Truth be told, Morgan was such a light in all of their lives that he didn’t have to pretend to be happy. “How was school today?”

“Good!” Morgan squeaked. She proudly held up a piece of paper in front of Rhodey’s face, slightly crinkled from where she’d been holding it. “I drew this for Daddy in art class. It’s all of us together at home!”

Rhodey took the piece in his spare hand and examined it. Himself, Pepper, Tony, Peter, and Morgan stood in the forefront - none of whom were wearing their suits - while in the back, various other Avengers, along with May, Ned, and MJ. At the top, the title ‘My Heroes’ was printed in funky bubble letters, which Morgan had coloured in with a crayon. “Wow, you could be a professional artist someday.”

Morgan giggled, burying her face in Rhodey’s shoulder.

“Sweetie, did you want to go and show Daddy?” Pepper asked. Morgan nodded, and Rhodey set her down, handing her the paper. They watched as she ran up to Tony’s bedside and climbed up on there with him, using the armchair as a makeshift step ladder. She laid down, snuggled up against his chest, and began describing the drawing for him - they’d told her that though he looked asleep, Tony could hear what they were all saying. Pepper turned away first, looking to Rhodey. “How’s he doing?”

“Good, all things considered. Vitals have held steady all day. It’s a really good sign, Cho said.”

Pepper nodded slowly, returning to watch Morgan. “He’s always been too stubborn for his own good.”

“You’re not getting an argument from me.”

Pepper laughed warmly, resting her hand on Rhodey’s arm. “Go, catch up to Bruce. I saw you two talking when we arrived, it looked important.”

“Thanks,” Rhodey smiled. “I’ll be back soon.” He took one last look at Morgan and Tony before heading for the command center.

They called it the command center because it was the main base of operations for monitoring both potential threats and active missions. Since the return of the dusted Avengers, there were more than enough people to have multiple missions running at the same time, so it seemed best to have a central room where everyone and everything could be monitored with ease.

Rhodey paused outside the door, preparing himself for whatever news Bruce had, before walking inside. Seeing the room caused his stomach to turn over. The sense of dread he felt when Friday lost connection to their suits returning tenfold each time he entered. Still, he pushed it down. He had a job to do.

Bruce leaned on the corner of the desk, a dozen holo-screens filling its surface and all showing different information. May sat in the chair, slouched over with her head in her hands and eyes closed. Rhodey shot Bruce a questioning look; Bruce only shook his head.

With a sigh, Rhodey walked up to May and gently rested his hands on her shoulders, startling her awake. “Hey,” he said softly, she turned to face him, “Maybe you should think about heading home. Catch up on some sleep, get a decent meal.”

May shook her head furiously, eyes welling with tears. “I can’t- I can’t leave not knowing.”

“I’ll update you the second we find anything. Happy’s just about to head home, I’m sure he’ll give you a lift.” When May still didn’t move, Rhodey leaned back against the desk, not taking his eyes from hers. “We’ve got people out there searching, there’s not much we can do from here. Peter would want you to look after yourself.”

At the mention of Peter, May looked up. Slowly, she nodded and rose to her feet. “Yeah,” she whispered, “Yeah, he would. See you.” She drifted from the room with barely a backwards glance at either of the occupants.

Once she’d made it a safe distance down the corridor, Bruce spoke up. “I’m worried about her. She’s hardly left this room in days.”

Rhodey nodded, his expression solemn. “I’ve talked to Happy, asked him to keep an eye out for her if we ever managed to get her back home. You know how close they’ve gotten recently.”

Bruce laughed. “I have. And I didn’t see it coming.”

“Neither did the kid,” Rhodey chuckled, alleviating some of the heavy atmosphere shrouding the room. “So,” he stood straight and moved around to face the holo-screens, arms folded protectively across his chest, “What’s the lastest?”

Bruce moved to stand beside Rhodey. Grabbing the projection of a map of the US and enlarging it, pushing the other holograms to the side in the process. On one of which, the same three-second CCTV clip of a white van speeding down the street replayed over and over, Shocker just visible in the driver’s seat. Across the map, a series of dots linked together by a continuous line - all the locations they’d tracked Shocker’s van to, spread wildly and never going in the same direction twice.

“Last we know, Shocker holed up in Denver for a couple of hours. I sent Sam and Steve out as soon as we got a licence plate hit, but he’d vanished by the time they arrived.”

“Vanished?”

“Yeah,” Bruce stepped back, revealing the end of the line just south of Denver on the I-25. “He turned off the Interstate not long after ten this morning, we’ve usually had another hit by now. But this time, nothing.”

“Are you saying we’ve lost him? We’ve lost the kid?”

Bruce nodded, forlorn. He gestured at the hologram, and a circle appeared, centred around Denver and reaching as far as the California border. “They could be anywhere within this area given the time since we lost them.”

“Great!” Rhodey threw his arms in the air, shaking his head. “So we only have to search half of the Western States.”

“And the area get’s bigger the longer they’re missing.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Then I guess I shouldn’t mention the possibility they’ve visited an airport.”

“Can’t do,” Rhodey said quickly, “There’s no way airport security would let a known super-criminal leave the country with a minor he’s not related to.”

Bruce shrugged. “I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s been to a lot of cities, who knows what contacts he has.” Rhodey fell into the chair, rubbing his hands vigorously over his face. “Hey,” Bruce pulled up a second chair and squeezed Rhodey’s shoulder. “Are you alright? Besides the obvious, I mean. You look kinda rough.”

“Thanks, man.”

“I just meant you need to look after yourself, too, as well as everyone else.”

Rhodey smiled warmly, “I know. I am, just a little tired. Not been sleeping well.”

“I can get you something to help with that if you want. Just let me know.”

Rhodey didn’t answer, instead looking up to the map. Specifically, the small triangles that represented the on-mission Avengers’ current locations. He nodded generally towards them. “Who’s out there?”

Bruce pointed to the closest triangle to Denver. “That’s Sam and Steve, still running reconnaissance.” Next, he gestured to one somewhere over Missouri, “Wanda and Vision flew out from Edinburgh this morning - they wanted to help the search - and are headed to Oklahoma City. See if they can find anything there. These other two in Mississippi are Nat and Bucky, and Clint and Scott.”

“And they’re…?”

“Looking for one of Shocker’s known contacts. We think he might have stayed with one of Vulture’s old crew, Phineas Mason. ‘The Tinkerer’-”

“That’s got to be one of the worst nicknames out there.”

“Yeah,” Bruce chuckled, “We’re hoping he might give us something on Shocker. Or… Nat can convince him to give us something.”

“Let’s hope he does.” Rhodey got to his feet. “I’m going to grab a coffee for Pepper, you want anything?”

Bruce shook his head, “Thanks, though.”

“No problem,” Rhodey smiled and left the room, hanging around in the doorway. “You’re doing a good job here, man. We’ll find them.” Bruce nodded once, his expression one of determination, and Rhodey started down the corridor.

He thought as he walked towards the kitchen. With everything going on, he maybe hadn’t been giving himself quite the love he deserved, instead worrying about Tony, or helping Bruce co-ordinate missions, or babysitting Morgan when Pepper’s meetings dragged late into the night. With a yawn, he considered taking up Bruce’s offer. Imagining the good a decent night’s sleep could do him.

“May?” he asked incredulously, striding over to the breakfast bar where she sat. A cup of coffee cradled between her hands. “I thought you were going home.”

May sighed, looking defeated. Permanent worry lines etched into her forehead, her hair in the same messy bun it had been for days and fingernails bitten to the skin. “I couldn’t do it. Sent Happy without me.”

“I get it,” Rhodey sat on the stool beside her. “When Tony went missing in Afghanistan, I didn’t stop for months. I couldn’t. Because it was my duty to find him.” May nodded absentmindedly. “Finding Peter isn’t your duty; we’re all here for him. All looking-”

“That’s just the thing.” May lifted her head, tears in her eyes. “You’re all out there searching for my kid, and I’m sat here like a piece of furniture.”

Rhodey was taken aback, frowning as she spoke. “May-”

“And I know, I know, I can’t go out there and help. Not in the same way, at least. So it’s all I can do to be here when you get him back.” She dropped her head again, staring at her coffee like it would give her the answer. “That’s all I have.”

“Take my room,” Rhodey offered, “I’ve been sleeping in the medbay, so my bed’s going spare. Plus, no one will disturb you in there.

“I couldn’t-”

“I insist.”

After a brief pause, May leant into Rhodey’s side and hugged him. “Thank you.” She got to her feet, still holding the coffee.

“There are spare clothes in the cupboard at the end of the hall. I’m sure you can find some pyjamas in there. Make yourself at home. And I don’t want to see you up before seven tomorrow morning.”

May laughed gently. “Yes, Colonel.” With a mock salute, she left the room. Rhodey stood and grabbed two cups of coffee, plus a juice box from the fridge, and started back to the medbay.

* * *

Tony woke early the next morning, greeted by a relieved Rhodey, tearful Pepper, and Morgan diving into the bed next to him and snuggling up to his chest. The pair soon had to leave for school and work, leaving just Rhodey and Tony alone.

Tony looked up at Rhodey, a dopey grin on his face. “What’s up, Sourpatch? You look like someone sucker-punched you.”

“Look, I’m not going to sugar-coat this-”

“Oh?” Tony’s smile turned to a frown, his lips turned downwards and brow furrowed.

“Shocker, he took Pete. We’ve been tracking him for days, but lost the trail yesterday morning.”

Tony stared at the end of his bed, every muscle in his body tensed and a dangerous expression on his face. Without warning, he sat forward and flung back the duvet, intent of swinging his legs over the edge and standing. “Woah,” Rhodey caught him, stopping his progress. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Finding Pete. What does it look like?”

“So what, you’re just going to search the entire country?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“No, Tones. You’re nowhere near ready to go out in the field.”

“I don’t care about that,” Tony growled. “That bastard took my kid. And I’m going to find him.” He made another attempt to dodge Rhodey and stand, but in his weakened state, it proved impossible.

Gently, Rhodey pushed Tony’s shoulder back down. “You’re staying in this bed until Cho clears you. Bruce has the whole rest of the team out there, even Wanda and Vision came in. There’s nothing you can add right now. It sucks, but you’ll have to wait.”

Tony laid back. “Sometimes I hate having a voice of reason who’s quite so reasonable.”

“Sometimes I hate having a friend who refuses back up and ends up comatose for days.”

“Hey,” Tony threw his arms out, “You can’t be mean to me, I’m sick! Look,” he held up his hand with an IV and heartbeat monitor attached, “I’m hooked up to all sorts of machines in a hospital bed! Being mean to sick people is a no-no.”

Rhodey threw his head back, laughing his most genuine laugh in days.

* * *

Bruce sprinted into the medbay, skidding to a stop in the doorway and panting hard. A hint of a smile on his face. Rhodey jumped to his feet, Tony sat up straighter, wincing slightly at the pain movement caused.

“Mason talked.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, and he cast a confused glance Rhodey’s way. “I thought you said they did find him and came home days ago?”

“Clint and Scott came home,” Bruce corrected, “what with Cassie and all. Nat and Bucky stayed out there. Just commed in to say Mason gave them a potential location on Shocker, some shack he mentioned while running with Vulture. They’re headed there now.”

Tony pushed back his bedsheet back and wobbled to his feet, having hardly stood in the week since the attack.

“Woah!” Rhodey rushed around the bed to steady Tony, only for the man to push him away.

“I’m not a child, Rhodey.”

“You sound a bit like one.”

“Get in your suit, let’s go.” Tony started towards the door.

Bruce blocked his path and looked worriedly to Rhodey over Tony’s shoulder. “Uh, I’m not sure-”

“You aren’t? Well, I am. The suits are quicker than a Quinjet, and Rhodey’s coming because of the insane buddy system you’ve got going.”

“Hey! That buddy system saved your life-”

“It also got my kid captured by a homicidal maniac,” Tony countered, “So move out of my way.”

Bruce’s eyes found Rhodey again, the other man nodded. “Doctor Cho was going to clear him this afternoon anyway. And our suits are quicker. If Mason warned Shocker, he could already be running again.”

“Fine,” Bruce stepped aside and let Tony pass, but caught Rhodey’s arm before he could leave. “I’ll send Friday the location. Keep an eye on him.”

“I know,” Rhodey nodded sincerely before chasing after Tony.

Within a few minutes, they were in the air and hurtling towards south-west Colorado. Most of the flight passed in silence, Tony busy worrying about Peter, and Rhodey busy worrying about Tony.

Their target turned out to be a half-collapsed, wooden shack surrounded by trees with a singular, dusty, dirt road winding away for miles. Shocker’s van lazily parked up by the house. Nothing else within sight. The shack itself looked like a gentle breeze would knock it over, the wooden panels so rotten in places that you could see inside and the door swinging on its hinges.

Tony landed first, Rhodey a second behind him, and marched forward, kicking the door with enough force to level it to the ground. “Schultz!” He bellowed, lighting the room inside with the glow from his palm repulsor, “You’d best hand over my kid else you won’t live to regret it.” He scanned the room, quickly realising it to be empty, and motioned for Rhodey to head for the door to his left while he strode further inside.

Dust filled the air, and covered the floor for that matter, though clearly it had been recently disturbed. A ratty, moth-eaten sofa sat in the centre of the room with a threadbare rug underneath it. Apart from that, the room was empty.

“It’s clear!” Rhodey called from the side room, reappearing through the door.

Tony poked his head through a doorframe, though the door itself was lacking. The metal frame of a bed was shoved up against one wall, a stained duvet balled up atop it. No Shocker. No Peter. “Clear.”

“Tones, I think you should see this.”

Tony tapped his chest, his nano-suit dematerialising as he jogged back to Rhodey. The room he’d cleared turned out to be a bathroom, a grubby sink, toilet, and bath-shower combo taking up practically all of the space. Rhodey stood by the sink, looking down at the grime covered floor.

“What is it?” Tony asked, moving closer. “Oh…” In the dirt, someone had drawn two letters with a slender finger. PP.

“They were here, and they can’t be long gone,” Rhodey said.

“Then let’s find them.” Tony started back towards the front door and shot into the air, following the dirt path away from the shack with Rhodey close on his heel.

“They didn’t take the van,” Rhodey pointed out. “Could’ve walked, could’ve had a backup car here already.”

“Friday, are any other vehicles registered to Herman Schultz.”

“Only the van, Boss.”

“Shit. CCTV?”

“Not within a ten-mile radius.”

“That’s just great. Rhodey, split up, cover as much ground as possible. They could be anywhere.” The pair peeled apart, eyes scanning the ground for any sign of life.

Despite an increasingly desperate search lasting well into the next morning, Rhodey would reluctantly drag Tony home empty-handed.

* * *

A year passed. Shocker didn’t slip up, never gave away his position, never once asked for ransom money. Slowly, everyone came to the same conclusion. What would Shocker gain from dragging a superpowered kid around the country if he didn’t want money? Nothing was the obvious answer. So everyone, however reluctantly, agreed.

Peter was dead.

So soon after they got him back.

Over the year, the Avengers had chased down every lead, followed up on every clue, acted on even the vaguest of whispers. Even Ross joined the search, every police precinct on the lookout for him. All lead to dead ends. Quite simply, it was over. Shocker had murdered the kid and got away with it.

Tony fed the press a line about Spider-Man joining the Guardians on an outer space mission, which prompted a new line of space-themed Spider-Man toys. It hurt every time he saw one, but sometimes pretending was easier than facing the truth.

May spent more time at the Facility, wanting out of the apartment that only reminded her of her kid. She trained to work with Cho and her medical team, learning the ins and outs of each Avengers medical needs. Even single-handedly saving Steve’s life after a particularly lousy mission and no one else was around. Quickly becoming a valued member of the team. Tony knew what she was doing, making up for losing Peter by saving the others.

The atmosphere at the Facility never quite recovered, it improved, sure. But would never be the same, not with the gaping hole Peter left behind.

“Tony?”

Tony started awake, almost dropping the coffee clutched in his hands. “Oh, Bruce, hey,” he mumbled, trying to regain his composure. “What are you doing up?”

Bruce shrugged, falling heavily into the seat next to Tony. “Couldn’t sleep. You get it.”

Nodding, Tony replied. “Yeah, anniversaries suck, huh?”

“That they do.”

Tony sighed. “After Thanos took them away, I thought we’d never get to see everyone again. The world had already gone to shit by the time Captain Sparkle Hands brought me home, and this time Pete’s gone, and the world doesn’t care. I’m never going to stop looking for him, Bruce. Not until I know either way.”

“Me either. These last few months have felt so… felt so wrong, y’know? Not hearing anything, or having anyone out there looking for Peter. I feel useless.”

“Hey,” Tony turned and clapped his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, “Out of all of us, you’ve probably done the most - and certainly the hardest - work. We’d never have got to that shack without you.”

“Didn’t pan out though, did it. Peter’s not here.”

“We were close, Bruce. So close.”

“I’m not sure if that’s better or worse,” Bruce sighed. A pair of voices drifted towards them, drawing both pairs of quizzical eyes. Rhodey and May walked into the lounge, quietly talking to each other.

“Let me guess, can’t sleep?” Tony asked. Rhodey nodded, a sad smile on his face. “Come,” he gestured to the empty sofa opposite, “join the club.”

They sat together until morning, reminiscing on their time with Peter, telling stories of his heroics - or funny things he’d done - and taking turns brewing another pot of coffee. They laughed, cried, talked, never feeling the need to hide their emotions from each other, just feeling them: the grief, the confusion, the heartache.

“Boss,” something about Friday’s tone made Tony feel odd, but the word passed so quickly that he couldn’t put his finger on why. Or even what exactly he felt.

“Yeah, Fri?” He asked sleepily - the sun had begun to rise after all.

“Peter Parker just walked into the foyer.”

Everyone froze, sharing looks of utter confusion.

“What?”

“Peter Parker just walked into the foyer.”

Tony jumped to his feet, following May who’d already run from the room. All four of them skidded into the foyer where, sure enough, Peter stood. Blood covering his face and dripping to the tiles below, clothes ripped and covered with dirt, but as soon as he saw them, a smile lit his whole face. “May! Mister Stark!”

May reached him first, wrapping her arms around him with fierce love. Peter clung to her like his life depended on it. He reached out a hand and grabbed the front of Tony’s shirt, pulling him into the embrace. “Get in here, Mister Stark.”

“Oh-” Tony locked his arms around the pair, tears slipping over his cheeks. “Hey, Pete.”

“I missed you guys so much!” Peter said between sobs.

May tightened her grip. “We missed you too.”

“I-I can’t believe you’re here, kid.”

“Me either, it wasn’t easiest to get away.”

Tony pulled away, wiping his tears on the back of his hand, and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Peter looked over to Rhodey and Bruce, too. “All of you.”

“Glad you’re back, kid,” Rhodey beamed. “It wasn’t the same without you.”

Bruce stared, wide-eyed, as if trying to figure out whether or not he was dreaming. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Well,” Peter skipped over, the group walking further into the facility. “That’s a long story…

[itsreallylaterightnow]

I Should Go Now Quietly (For My Bones Have Found A Place To Lie Down & Sleep)

Prompt: So I just saw little women and I'm just thinking about the scene where one of the sisters dies. Like the older sister Jo, fall asleep by her bedside only to wake up to see her younger sister is gone. So how about peter and tony in this situation. Tony dozes off by Peter's bedside while he’s hurt or sick and wakes up to find he passed away while was sleeping 

:(

Why you got to hurt me like this? What if it’s like an IW AU where people die, and the body is left behind after Thanos snapped? and Peter clings on to life long enough to get back to earth and the compound where they hook him up to machines to try to save him (his heart is failing or something idk) but then that happens.

(And he comes back obviously. When everything gets fixed)

Author’s Note: So I was stalking @irondad-fic-ideas and I stumbled across this one, and honestly I don’t think I’ve written something this quickly EVER! Please enjoy :) 

Tony sat with Peter; his head laid on the side of the kid’s bed as Peter’s hand was gripped tightly in his own. The heart monitor and pulse-ox beeped from the corner of the med-bay room. They stuttered and skipped – Peter’s body in a constant battle to stay or go. Bruce had finally found a pain medication strong enough to knock the kid out. It had been hours of Peter screaming and writhing on the hospital bed – the weight of his pain crushing him. The way Bruce explained it had been that Peter’s spider-mutation had kept him alive this long, but the battle was constant and painful. The stones fighting to rip the kid into dust as Peter’s metabolism fought to hold him together. It seemed excruciating. Tony had begged Bruce to find a way to keep him alive, but as the heart monitor’s skips grew closer and closer together, Tony knew that Peter was losing this battle.

He didn’t know how he was supposed to handle this. The kid’s aunt, to the best of their knowledge, had been dusted as well. No matter how exhausted or ill Tony felt, he would not let his kid go through this alone. Never.

Bruce walked into the room, clipboard in hand. He looked terrible – well, everyone did. The weight of their loss like thousands of pounds dropped onto their shoulders – pulling them slowly into the ground. Bruce walked over to Peter, who was slowly becoming more and more pale, and examined the kid’s vitals; a grimace was plastered onto his face as he compared the recent vitals to the one’s he had taken an hour before. Bruce let out a deep sigh.

“How is he?” Tony asked, his voice softer than it had ever been – his hand gripped too tightly onto Peter’s as he waited for the kid to slowly drift in between them.

“Not good, Tony. He’s – there – it would be a miracle if he made it through the night.” Tony choked on a sob, his face dropping onto Peter’s arms as tears leaked down his face.

“The-there’s nothing you can do?” He asked, already knowing the answer and hating it.

“There’s nothing to be done. I’ll keep him on a constant drip of the medicine. He won’t feel it – let that comfort you. I’ll leave you two alone. If you need anything, I’m just a call button away.” Bruce stepped forward, a heavy hand dropping onto his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Tony.” Then the doctor left the pair together.

Tony slipped his chair in closer to Peter, running the hand that wasn’t tucked into the kid’s through Peter’s dark curls. He felt an insurmountable amount of grief drawing at his chest – suffocating him as he stared at Peter’s face.

“Pl- please don’t… please don’t leave me. I can’t – you’re too good. Peter, you – you’re the best of us. And you know that I’m not good with emotions, you understand that I can’t find the right words to explain myself but – I never told you this, I guess I was too scared of what you might think. That’s so stupid. But, Pete – I just feel like – like you’re my kid. Not to take you away from May – God knows she would have killed me if I tried – but you’re my kid. I just, I would have done – I will do anything for you. I’ll find a way to fix this. I will. I’ll be damned, I’ll fix this. If I have to invent time-travel for you, I’ll get you back. I swear.” Tony felt the weight of sleep pulling him under, as he rested his head on the hospital bed beside Peter’s arms. He didn’t want to sleep, but his body was betraying him. He hadn’t slept since Titan, and he didn’t remember how long that had been – just remembered an orange light, holding Peter tightly to his chest, being carried to Earth. “I love you, Peter.” He whispered, eyes closing to the irregular beeping of the heart monitor in the background.

-

When Tony woke, he felt like the world had been knocked from his axis before he even opened his eyes. Because he woke to silence. To the complete lack of a heart monitor. His hand was empty.

Tony sat up, his eyes opening with dread. The hospital bed was empty – a mix of wires, tubes, and crumpled sheets. The one thing that Tony desperately desired to be there was gone. He collapsed to his knees, his hands gripping at the empty sheets – willing his kid to fill them once more, but knowing that he wouldn’t.

“No.” He stated simply, his face dry with shock, but just like that, the dam broke and he wept-plead-sobbed-screamed his body shaking with dismay for the innocent life lost. For the desire that it had been anyone else. Anyone else.

Tony ached. To see Peter. To hear his laugh as he made another cheesy movie reference. To throw his arms over Peter’s shoulder, walking down the hallway to the lab. To hear Peter gripe and complain about how much he wanted to ask the scary girl out, but how scared he was to do it. His heart bled to feel Peter’s curls, to watch Star Wars again, as he and the kid quoted it line for line.

He ached.

He thinks that someone came into the room, said something about him calming down, said that he should breathe, he thinks that someone had poked him in the arm, thinks he fell asleep. Felt an overwhelming grief that clouded every other thought that might have passed through his head.

-

Five years. It took five years.

But as Tony was thrown back on the battlefield, grunting in pain as he hit a piece of concrete and saw one of Thanos’ men coming for him, he saw the webbing first – confusion and hope sparking into his chest.

Then he saw him. The lanky, awkward teenager that he had spent every day of the last five years missing. Peter’s hand grabbed Tony’s, pulled him up. He knew the kid was talking but he didn’t care as he grabbed the kid, pulling him forward into his arms. Into the place he had been praying for Peter to be this entire time.

“I missed you, Peter. I love you, and I missed you so much.” He would repeat those words – over and over again because he would rather say them too much than to relive the pain of not having said them enough.

[thestarkerisobvious]

Treasure

This is it.  This will be the last chapter of The Thing That Lives Under The Bed that I will post on Tumblr.  After this, the quest to put it alllll on AO3, where I will publish the conclusion.

Endless thanks to @mrstarksbaby.  He knows why.

---------------------------------------

At 13, Peter made friends with the Thing that Lived Under the Bed.  But things change.  Nothing stays the same (not even  2000 year old demons.)

SEVENTEEN

Chapter 5         Treasure

For two hours he got to dig by himself.  As he did he turned it all over in his mind, digging through everything that Tony had said, sifting through everything he hadn’t said.  

Tom Dylan Post had ordered Tony to kill him.  Tony readily obeyed.  Finding out her brother had, in essence, killed himself, Ada ordered Tony to kill her too… no… she had begged him to do it.  Fell to his feet and clung to him and begged.

And Tony had tricked her.  Tenderly and lovingly.  Put her off until midnight.  Described a spell that required the participation of three family members.  Ada might have even pulled it off despite all that – she probably had dozens of uncles and sisters and “youngest members” she might have tricked into it.  And, hell, if Ada could have found that many family members that were willing to watch her die, it might have been a good idea.  But even in that event, could she have really gotten Nana Justina, the Matriarch of the entire family, to write a prayer for the occasion?

What Tony had said… and what Tony hadn’t said.  

He hadn’t said “No.” 

He hadn’t said “Obviously not, I work for your father.”  

He didn’t deny her.  She was collapsed at his feet, clinging to him and begging him to kill her.  He told her “I can deny you nothing” and then pointed Ada towards multiple family members that certainly would deny her plenty.

And then there was Tomas Post Sr.  Peter knew absolutely nothing about the man, except for one thing.  The man had come to Tony demanding to know where his son was, and instead of saying “He chopped up your daughters’ best friend, I killed him and destroyed the body.  You’re welcome,”  Tony had barely said anything.  He waited patiently for the family to find 3 black animals to create a spell to force him to tell what he was perfectly willing to tell anyone who asked. 

When Peter stopped to rest he sat and looked at the foundation, trying to remember the details of the house he had seen that night.  He knew he had seen it before… and now he remembered where.  Anyone looking for information on the Post family knew about the massive donation of artwork that the Post family had made to various museums in New York City, some of which Peter and his family had been to.  He had seen black and white photos of some of the paintings.  Casa do Sul they were all called.  Tony had called it the South House.

Of course, the South House wasn’t there for the artist colony of the 1920’s to paint.  Had Tony shown it to them, in their dreams, the way he had shown it to Peter? 

* * * 

Naturally Peter wanted to dig up whatever was buried beside the South House by himself.  Whatever was there, Tony had meant it for him.

So, of course, by the time evening came he was digging with 4 other people, with two people waiting at the house for news of the dig and one 12-year old person running messages and supplies back and forth.

Peter had set out with his shovel completely forgetting that the DeSlaughters would arrive for Saturday Morning breakfast-and-cartoons.  They always traveled when PeeWee’s Playhouse was on.  No one liked PeeWee’s Playhouse.  (They usually ate during Kidd Video because no one claimed to like Kid Video either.  Although, secretly, Peter thought Kidd Video himself was incredibly cute.)  So when the trio arrived and Peter wasn’t there, Mike set out to find out why.

When Mike went back to the house to get a second shovel, Matthew got involved.  And when Matthew was sent back to the house to get some rope, Uncle Ben and Mr. DeSlaughter got involved.  Soon Monica was running supplies, and messages, back and forth.  Aunt May and Mrs. DeSlaughter were at the house preparing a large celebratory meal (or perhaps a consolation dinner) for that evening.  Whatever was in the trunk Peter and Mike had discovered, Peter hoped it wasn’t too personal, because he was going to have to find out in front of everybody.  And “split the loot,” at least according to Matthew.

“I don’t think it’s loot,” Peter said repeatedly.  “I think it’s something Tom Dylan Post buried here.  Maybe right after he killed Laura Foster.  Maybe after they burned the house down, the wreckage, what was left of the house, it would have hidden the freshly filled in hole.  So they never noticed.  But I don’t know what he would have buried… certainly not his murder weapon.  He left his knife at the scene of the crime, that’s how they knew it did it.”

“What if it’s his dead body?”  Matthew had asked more than once.

“That’s possible,” Peter assured him.  “I really think that he killed himself, and that the family hid it.  In those days committing suicide was a very big scandal.  And it is a lot easier to hide a dead body than a live one.”

“Wait… we’re looking for a dead body?”  Mike asked.  “What is this, a Stephen King novel?”  

“How would he kill himself… and then bury himself, Mike?”

“His family probably killed him to stop him from killing his brother,” Matthew offered.  “He wanted to kill his brother Abe Sexton because Abe Sexton told everyone Laura Foster was going to marry him only they thought it couldn’t be true because he was only 14…”

“So we’re looking for the dead body of the annoying little brother?”

“No…” Matthew said, rolling his eyes.  Although Peter had said it too.  Peter also knew this story.

“I told you Abe Sexton lived with the sheriff’s son who lost his arm and almost bled to death because the sheriff had pissed off Lavern Post but then Lavern Post healed him anyway and Abe Sexton lived with him for like 50 years until he died, the Sheriff's son died, and then Abe Sexton moved back home to take care of his mom.  Everyone knows that.”

“So… we’re digging up the dead body of some gaywad annoying little brother?”  Mike joked.

Both Peter and Matthew glared at him.

“All the Posts are buried at the Post Graveyard which isn’t even on our property so what are you freaking out about,” Peter said,  “And  we’re digging up whatever Tom Dylan buried before anyone knew to come look for him.

“Know what Matthew?” Peter called out, hoping to ease the tension.  Matthew looked angry and ready to leave.  “We should really write a book about the history of this whole place.  We know more than anybody.

* * * *

Peter and MIke groaned when Mr. DeSlaughter arrived in his pickup truck, which he managed to pull almost up to the shed.  Even Matthew was disappointed.  All three had been excited about getting what they had found out all by themselves.  Mr. DeSlaughter and Uncle Ben had many observations and had several pieces of unwanted advice.

But in the end, some of the advice was good.  They were the ones who looked at the wooden chest at the bottom of the hole and suggested digging a ramp to bring it up.  Attaching ropes to the handles of the chest proved fruitless when the first handle snapped upon contact.  Getting the chest out of the hole in one piece was delicate business.  How it had even held together at all was a mystery.  But the long processes of getting the buried chest out of the ground was making Peter impatient, and finally desperate.  He had no way of explaining to the men around him (and the occasional Monica) why it was the contents of the chest that was more important than the ancient trunk itself. 

At least Peter didn’t have to explain why he had started digging.  Although Uncle Ben raised an eyebrow when Peter mumbled vaguely about his dream, the DeSlaughters only nodded sagely.  The entire DeSlaughter family put a lot of stock in dreams.

It was absolutely going to be evening before they could move the chest up the earthen ramp they had created for the task, but Peter would not be persuaded to leave it till the morning.  They chose to work by the light of the truck headlights.  Matthew and Mike were just as impatient to see the contents of their buried treasure.  Matthew, in particular, was convinced it was actual treasure.  Secretly, Peter had other ideas.

The massive, old fashioned lock on the front of the chest didn’t dissuade them when the trunk was clearly coming apart at the hinges.  Only Uncle Ben mourned the destruction of the possibly-valuable antique box while the other three men wrenched off the lid.  Matthew held his flashlight up to show them what was inside.

The old-fashioned rifle that sat on the top of the folded clothes naturally caught the attention of Mike and Mr. DeSlaughter, who took it to examine by the light of the cab of the truck.  Peter was grateful because that brought the witnesses down to three; himself, Matthew and Uncle Ben.  He assigned Uncle Ben to pull out the clothing, mostly dresses and what might have been billowy white nightgowns, which Ben carefully laid out on the tarp that Monica had delivered that afternoon.  That only left Matthew holding the flashlight, angrily demanding ‘where the gold and diamonds were.’

And the bottom of the chest, under all the clothing, Peter saw it.  The huge leather book.  Beside it sat a smaller black box.  Peter picked it up and shook it.  When the contents rattled, he handed it over to Matthew, who quickly disappeared.  

Peter picked up his own flashlight, his heart hammering, and reached into the bottom of the chest.

He didn’t have long before the others noticed his silence and came back with their own flashlights, demanding to know what he had found.

“It’s… I think it’s…” he said, hastily laying his hand over the seal on the leather cover before Mike could see it.  “I think it’s a diary,” he lied.  The book was handwritten, so he might be believed.  It was full of pictures and strange circles and seals with congruent and concentric triangles,  but girls sketched in their diaries sometimes, didn’t they?  As for the geometric shapes… well… was there a law that said girls couldn’t fill their diaries with geometry?

“It is, it’s a diary,” he said to the men who were crowding around him now.  With the cover open, they couldn’t see the seal.  Five flashlights shone down on the inscription on the first thick page.

“Is that...?”  Matthew was the first to speak.  “… wait does that say…?”

“Yes,” Peter said calmly as the other reacted to the two words written there in a beautiful, practiced script.  It seemed so obvious to him now.

“It’s the diary of Laura Foster.”

-----------------------

This is the end of the Tumblr Publication of The Thing That Lives Under The Bed.  

The rest of the book Seventeen will be published on AO3.

Thank you for reading this far.

                                      --WW

[mysterious-blood-pyramid]

Steve Rogers Ending was Poorly Written

I still don’t understand why they ended Steve Rogers story the way they did. I understand why they ended Captain America’s story line that way, but not Steve’s. It was time for Captain America to retire, pass the mantle on, and there was no better candidate than the Falcon, someone who actively fought by his side and would uphold the title with Honor and the Right amount of Rebellious Respect that embodies the ideals of the American people. Sam Wilson was and still is the perfect candidate, and I understand that, which makes him someone I can and do expect to be an amazing Captain America.

But Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers was someone who literally came from nothing in a time were people like him were not only disrespected for being less able, but also being seen as a detriment to society for his lack of ambition/motivation for seeking to “take advantage” of his situation. Bucky said it himself, “you are about to become the most eligible bachelor in New York,” meaning he will have full access to date around and find a partner of his choosing with no shortage of options. He doesn’t do that though, he wants to join the war and stop the bullies. He wanted to do it for his friends, he wanted to do for those he cares about, he wanted to do it for Bucky. Through out the whole series of Steve Rogers portrayal of Captain America, his central most goal of his actions were for Bucky. He join the war to protect Bucky, he disregarded orders and invaded enemy territory to save Bucky (aka Became Captain America in both name and authority), he fought against Hydra and vowed to “take down every last one of them” to honor Bucky (because he thought he was dead. He also made it a personal mission rather than a duty bound mission to end Hydra at this point because at first he was doing it because it was morally right, but at this point he was doing it to avenge Bucky. Huh, the title First Avenger makes since now). That’s just the first film.

In the sequels Steve is introduced as if he is trying to find his purpose and feels as though he doesn’t wish to serve anymore because “it’s just not the same.” He isn’t here for the same reason anymore, Bucky isn’t there so what’s the point? Than we all discover that Bucky is in fact Alive and unwell, much to Steve’s shock. Steve than pursues to find Bucky and convince him to stop, however he specifies that he couldn’t take Bucky down even if he was put into a situation of life or death, to Steve he would choose Bucky over both of those options. Bucky ends up saving his life despite that being against his brainwashed mind’s set mission from Hydra which they supplanted in him after over 75 years of conditioning, and Steve is left alone on a river side as Bucky leaves in confusion. Steve later vows to find him and help Bucky, gaining both Black Widow and The Falcon as fellow Avengers and friends who will assist him in his search.

In the third, and as of 2020, final Captain America film with the portrayal of Steve Rogers, Steve is leading the Avengers in missions and defending “the little guy” (his intial reasoning for joining the army) and things go wrong. The Accords aka proceedures of what the Avengers are allowed to do and who will dictate their missions and how, and of course our favorite Rebel Rouser Steve Rogers states he refuses to sign because than they will be a world government entity, without any say in what they are doing and where they are going (which did not end well in the second movie because he was told to follow instructions he found morally objectionable and did not follow them. Obviously, as one does) and Steve made it very clear that if that was the case than he was quitting. He later gets a lead on Bucky after discovering Bucky was at the scene of the crime when the Wakandin King was killed. Once found, Bucky explains it was not him and is unbrainwashed right after being captured only to break free again. Steve finds him, snaps him out of his Hydra trance, and goes to get more information as to what is going on to clear Bucky’s name. Later on it is discovered that when he was under Hydra’s control he killed Tony’s parents, which resulted in Captain America fighting against Iron Man, his fellow Avenger and Friend, to save Bucky. After the fight Tony demands Captain America’s Shield, and he drops the Shield as if to concede his right to his title in order ensure Bucky’s safety. Later the pair escape to Wakanda together and began to help Bucky heal.

In all these films, Steve’s central focus is Bucky. His goal is to keep Bucky safe, healthy, and to some degrees happy. His goal is to protect his friend, his family.

And than we get to the Avengers series. Most of them reference Peggy, who was introduced in the first film. She is a strong character on her own and even has her own series (which I sadly will never watch). However in the Avengers films she is reduced to only being portrayed as being Steve’s love interest. She certainly did have feelings for Steve, and Steve seemed to share them to some extent, however by the time the most recent Avengers movie End Game comes out, she hasn’t been mentioned in at least 2 Captain America movies as anything other than a friend (who dies in the 3rd Captain America film). However, in the end of End Game Steve abandons Bucky in the future and goes back to Peggy with no explanation given other than it was time for Steve to be selfish?

That... that doesn’t make since at all. It is against his character motives and basically everything established in his film franchise. It goes against what he fought for, it goes against previous design of Steve Rogers as he was originally written. It is understandable to say change has occurred, however when a creator/writer does this to a character there needs to be a clear depiction of why these changes happened, but that was never addressed in the final film he was in. It’s confusing, it’s a let down, but worst of all it shows a lack of character examination/study, which is terrible because the director/writers should understand all of the characters they are putting on screen through and through. Steve would not leave Bucky behind, not because he doesn’t care for Peggy, but rather because it has been demonstrated that Bucky is Captain America’s first priority. For the writers to completely ignore previous film history of a character and change his goals with no clear explanation given shows poor story telling and pathetic directing skills of those who were involved with deciding the end result of this character.

That’s why I hate the Avengers: End Game and why I will never watch a Marel movie/series again, because they botched the biggest superhero film in history, and they have the audacity to call it good. No amount of fake pro-feminism will take my eyes off of poor character endings and I will never let that go.

[xsteriism]

Good luck on your exams!!!! And WELL DONE ON GETTING 30O FOLLOWERS YOU DESERVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM!!!!! I have a prompt if you wanna do it? Peter likes to take a lotta photos but doesn't tell anyone and one day Tony finds his camera and it's full of all these amazing pictures of himself and the ironfam and ned and MJ and loads of other pretty things so he buys him a camera and one day Tony gets a picture of everyone asleep and hangs it up! Do it if you want!! Good luck with everything! 💕

hello!! im SO SO sorry i took so long to write this prompt, i havent been feeling myself lately, but i wanted to write something after two months, so here! 

i would like to tag @technically-a-little-dragon because i hope this makes you smile :) and @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad because you always support me!

(click on the title to read on ao3)

——

Peter’s Camera

——

Tony is one of the best people to photograph, in Peter’s opinion. Once the genius gets into the mood, there isn’t much that can be done to stop or distract him, which makes him the perfect candidate to photograph. Peter has gotten snaps of him where sparks are surrounding him as if he’s some kind of angel descending from heaven or where he’s sleeping peacefully after days of intense creating, with Dum-e prodding him but to get no reaction in return. 

Peter got the camera from Ben as a birthday present, a small second-hand Canon camera. It was old, a little broken, but with his genius brain and some stray parts he found in a dumpster, Peter managed to fix it within a night. However, it was at the expense of neglecting his homework, which he had to rush through the next morning. He didn’t care if the camera had buttons that weren’t working or if it glitched at the worst timings— the camera was Peter’s camera, gifted by his Uncle Ben, and that was all that mattered. 

The camera rarely left Peter’s being since he got it, so it was usually always accessible. After he became Spiderman, Peter would bring it on patrol, taking scenic pictures of the city or himself in action. He takes pictures of anything and everything and has to transfer the pictures to his computer every month because of how quickly he fills the memory card. 

Maybe it was because he didn’t talk about it, or maybe it was because he only took pictures of people when they weren’t looking, but nobody has found out about his hobby yet. He isn’t ashamed of it, just doesn’t see the need to talk about it when he already has so many things going on in his life. Peter wouldn’t deny it if someone found out about it someday, but for now, he likes that photography is his little secret. 

——

Tony isn’t sure what he’s looking at. 

Is that a camera from the 1970s? Do those still exist? What on earth is this doing in his lab? 

Frowning unconsciously, he picks the camera up, feeling it in his hands, examining it like some specimen. Just as he’s about to put the camera down and leave it, his finger brushes over a button, showing the pictures in the memory card. Eyes widening with mild shock, Tony clicks through the pictures of his family.

He sees himself, surrounded by tools, the light illuminating his face, making him seem otherworldly. He smiles at the picture of Ned, in which he’s grinning at Lego, with his face stuffed full with food. He huffs out a laugh when a picture of Harley teaching Morgan how to use his potato guns pops up and snorts when a picture of MJ smiling softly at a bird shows up. The billionaire snickers at the pictures of Pepper, who looks like the CEO she is as she glares at Clint and Scott or when she’s reprimanding grown adults (see: The Avengers) about safety and rules. 

Tony lets out a tiny gasp when he sees Natasha, the notorious Black Widow, smiling softly at a kitten. He chuckles lowly when the picture of Thor, on the verge of tears at the sight of a mouse, appears. And he smirks when he sees Bruce, who looked like he was in the middle of panicking, with a wildly out-of-control specimen in the background. He beams as he sees Bucky and Steve, roleplaying a scene in a book to Morgan, who has a wide grin on her chubby face. 

All these pictures, yet not one of Peter. Could it be that… this camera was his? 

Of course, it’s his. Whose else could it be? 

Tony sets the camera back onto the table, dialling Happy as he exits the lab. 

“Let’s go camera shopping.” 

——

“Boss, where do you even find the time for photography?” Happy asks as he begrudgingly follows Tony into the camera shop. Why was he always dragged into stuff he didn’t want to do? Better yet, since when did Tony like photography?

Tony rolls his eyes, not that Happy could see. “You wouldn’t get it. Now, which camera do you think is best?”

Happy gapes at the billionaire, looking to and from between Tony and the cameras on display. “How would I— Why would you think—”

“Oh, look at this… Leica S… Typ 007?” Tony sounds unsure— unusual, but not unexpected since this was something he wasn’t familiar with. “What? What does this mean?”

Based on what he knows, this camera is for Peter. Tony cares about him so much that he’d willingly go out to buy him stuff and risk himself running into paparazzi. Sighing in resignation, Happy glances through the specs and the prices of the cameras because Tony obviously wouldn’t and if he accidentally buys a $27k camera, then Peter will definitely freak out. 

“Boss, look at the price,” Happy sighs again, “do you really think Peter would accept this?”

Tony almost had whiplash from how fast he turned his head to face Happy at the sound of Peter’s name. “How did you know I was getting this for the kid?”

Happy rolls his eyes, walking past the nervous saleswoman who had been staring at them with a wobbly smile for the entire time they’ve been at the store. He picks up a relatively light camera, something he knows Peter would like and shows it to Tony. The clueless billionaire takes the camera, inspecting it as if he knows everything about it and nods approvingly. 

——

Tony isn’t going to lie. He’s a little excited and a little nervous— something completely new from what he usually feels when gifting. He did snoop around in his camera, after all. 

Jumping a little when the doors to his lab open suddenly, Tony tightly clutches the box in his hands, forcing himself to face the sweet, sweet teenager and hopes he won’t get mad. 

“Hello, Mr Stark!” Peter greets with a chirp in his voice, beaming at the billionaire. “So, I was thinking about some updates I want to do for the—”

Tony interrupts him before the kid can immerse him into his ideas as well. “Pete, I have something for you.”

Innocent, brown eyes bore into his and Tony offers him a nervous smile. He beckons Peter over with a wave of his hand and forces the wrapped box into small arms. The teen cocks his head to one side, looking at him in mild confusion and all Tony’s thinking is, ‘why is he so cute?’

He motions for him to open his very impromptu gift, uncharacteristically wringing his hands in anticipation. Peter gently undoes the tape holding the wrapping paper in place, unwrapping it diligently, unlike how it was wrapped. 

“Mr— Mr Stark!” Peter splutters as soon as he sees the camera. “This— isn’t this too much? You already give me an allowance on top of my salary as an intern. I can’t—”

Tony grins, secretly happy that Peter isn’t angry with him for snooping around and discovering his secret. He frowns playfully, sitting on his hands so that the teen wouldn’t be able to force his gift back. “Well, your camera is an ancient relic, and we can’t have that in my very futuristic house, now can we? Besides, why didn’t you get a new one if you had the money?”

Peter smiles, a little forlorn, a little reminiscent. “Uncle Ben gave me that camera and I just never really thought of upgrading it.”

“Hey,” the billionaire holds back a wince at the mention of Ben, knowing it was a sensitive topic. “You can display the camera in your room, no need to get rid of it. Heck, I’ll even make a glass display box for it if you want.”

The teenager smiles again, this time a little brighter, happier. He hugs the camera to his chest, before shyly thanking Tony, as if the billionaire checked the price before paying for it. 

A few weeks later, after Family Friday Night, Tony finds a printed picture of the whole family— Avengers and Non-Avengers alike— sleeping in the makeshift blanket fort, on his table. And if he encases it with a handmade frame, hanging it up where everybody can see, then it’s nobody’s business but his. 

——

please ❤️ if you liked it! comment if you want? follow me for more, i guess?

[just-my-fandom]

I Do (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Request; Can you write a Natasha x Reader fic where Natasha told everyone that she's gonna marry reader (while reader is not around) after bringing everyone back (before they went back in time) and after the funeral the other avengers told reader Natasha's plan? 

Request; Can the reader date Natasha but disappeared with everyone else and Natasha spends forever trying to bring her back and she cries like during that one scene and Steve talks to her?

A/N; The first Request sorta didnt make sense so I just went with it. These two requests seemed to match so I put them together

___________________________________

"This must of cost a fortune,"

Natasha sinks down onto the couch next to Clint, smiling as he examined the ring between his pointer finger and thumb,

"I was going to ask her on our third anniversary of dating. But Thanos took her from me," Nat breathes, Clint looking at her through hooded eyes, frowning and handing the ring back to her,

"But you held onto it,"

"Even though I havent asked her yet, I hold onto this ring like it was hers all along," Nat cracks a watery smile, placing the ring in the red rose box and setting it in her lap,

"She wouldve said yes," Clint pats her hand, "And she will. Because we're going to bring her back,"

"Dont give me false hope," She mocks, looking at him with teary eyes and leaning her head on his shoulder, "Everyone says shes disappeared but I didnt see it. Until I visibly see her ashes I don't want to believe that shes really gone,"

___________________________________

"Nothing? You've found nothing?" Natasha leans forward on her hands, eyes looking between the four holograms in front of her from different parts of the world and universe,

"She's not here, Nat," Rhodey says lowly, watching the woman push away from the table and bite her lip roughly,

"We dont know that. None of us saw her all throughout the battle with Thanos. She wasn't even in the same area, she might have went into hiding,"

"She would have immediately came in search for You, Natasha," Carol explains softly, Natasha looking up at the woman through tears, "I'll keep searching here in the west part, and keep in contact,"

Carol smiles, and steps back so she vanished from the hologram,

"Its been five years," Rocket crosses his arms from his hologram next to Nebula, "How do we know she's alive? Just because you didnt see her disappear doesnt mean she didn't,"

"I know shes here," Natasha swallows, "I was supposed to marry this woman. I was going to ask her, but I turn around and shes gone, all because of the man with the stones,"

"She's not here, Natasha," Rhodey says weakly, "Shes gone,"

Natasha clenches her jaw, lowering her head and allowing a tear to slide to the tip of her nose. She swiftly presses her hands to the screen on the table, the three holograms vanishing together,

"They're just trying to help," Natasha looks up, forcefully laughing at Steve standing at the door,

"No one can help with this one," She shakes her head, breaths shallow, "She's really gone, huh?"

"We dont know that," Steve steps into the room, "But I think it will soon be time to accept it,"

"Why is it always the people we care about?" Natasha sniffs loudly, wiping her cheek only for more tears to replace them,

"I dont know," Steve frowns, and Natasha slowly lowers herself into her chair, running a hand through her growing red hair,

__________________________________

"Y/N?"

You slowly turn in your black dress, Clint walking up to you with his hands stuffed in his suits pant pockets,

"Whats up?" You ask quietly, Clint moving next to you and pulling a hand out from his pocket, seeming to be holding an item,

"Natasha wanted You to have this,"

You furrow your eyebrows, eyes flickering from the man to the box, taking it from his hand,

"What is it?"

Clint presses his lips together when you lift the lid of the box, eyes widening and filling with light tears as they stared at the glistening ring in front of you,

"I don't understand," You whisper, shaking your head and looking up at Clint, "She never mentioned wanting to get married,"

"She wanted to keep it a secret," Clint says softly, pulling the ring from the box and taking your hand, sliding the ring up your finger, "She talked nonstop about how she was going to make you her wife, of how she would be the one to see you in a dress and walk down the isle,"

"Thank you," You say gently, accepting Clints embrace and allowing yourself to fall weak against him, "I miss her,"

"Me too," Clint sighs against your shoulder, and leans back, "But she now knows that you have the ring. That's all she wanted,"

"I dont think I ever want to take it off," You laugh brokenly, fingers messing with the ring,

"You gotta move on," Clint breathes, "Shed want that too,"

"How can I?" You exhale sharply, glancing around, "Weve known one another for years on end. I helped her through nightmares, we've protected one another. Maybe if I hadnt had disappeared she would still be here,"

You wipe your face, and sniff, "And now, no ones noticed that shes gone. There was no memorial for her. No funeral,"

"We'll have a memorial for her," Clint squeezes your arm, and you look up at him, "I promise,"

"Thank you," You repeat, Clint nodding and leaning forward, allowing his lips to press to your forehead

"She'll be okay,"

Natasha glances over at Tonys words, the man stepping up beside her,

"Seems like one of us is always losing the other," Natasha forcefully chuckles, eyes shimmering, "We were gonna get married, Tones,"

"I know," Tony sighs, "But shes going to move on. You would have done the same thing,"

"Obviously not if I was still anxious in getting her back five years after she disappeared," Natasha raises an eyebrow, and Tony clicks his tongue, shaking his head,

"You would have gone longer. Come on," He swings an arm at her shoulders, "Lets go find a Burger King in this joint,"

"Dont ever say joint like that again,"

Tony inhales, "Joint Joint Joint,"