#i support clint's rights and clint's wrongs

[movedto-mastcrmarksman]

My head is only full of him.

[universalsatan]

kinda wanna set up a betting pool for the ao3 ship brackets. i don’t even know who with, i just wanna be right

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [32]- Back Alley

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Business partners don’t have to be friendly.

Word Count: 3100

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You were beginning to think that the divorce clause in your prenup was going to come in handy any day now.

Granted you and Bucky had a deal, and you did trust him to hold up his end of the deal but he hadn’t spoken to you, or spared you as much as a glance for almost a week now so you were slowly getting lost in your anxious thoughts.

It was one thing when you were giving him an attitude but him acting like you didn’t even exist?

That flat out made your chest ache.

“Here you go,” Clint’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he put the file in front of you and you looked up at him, then smiled slightly.

“Thank you.”

“Oh no, thank you,” he said with a huff of laughter. “Rhett is an asshole, I’m glad you’re taking over.”

“He’s not so bad,” you muttered, opening the file to skim the page, then let out a small laugh. “But yeah. I could’ve told you he would reject this even if I offered it to him.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Not enough profit on his end,” you muttered, shuffling through the pages. “And he wants to see every plan you have, A to Z.”

Clint heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

“Well as I said, I’m glad you’re taking over,” he said and sat up straighter. “Nat will back you up, you know?”

You hummed, still focused on the page. “In the deal?”

“As the heir.”

That made your head snap up and you blinked at him in silence for a couple of seconds. He seemed almost entertained at your puzzlement as he leaned back on his seat behind his desk, and shrugged his shoulders.

“She talked to me too.”

You licked your lips. “And?”

“You won’t even try to feed me some bullshit about respecting your father’s chosen heir?”

“Depends,” you said. “Do you respect my father’s chosen heir?”

He let out a chuckle and held up his hands.

“He has done nothing to earn my respect,” he said. “I was willing to give him a chance—I did give him a chance and he fucked it up, as you know.”

You crossed your legs, keeping your gaze on him.

“Arthur is a legend in our line of work,” he said. “He’s the main reason why we have the truce now. That’s why I don’t understand how he made all the right choices up until the choice of heir because that…Y/N, that’s your right. I’m glad you’re making your move now.”

You pursed your lips.

“I’m not sure if it’ll be enough to make him reconsider.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You have Bucky in your corner, Steve and Sam and Nat as well, and I’m planning on supporting you the minute your name comes up.”

You weren’t so sure about Bucky being in your corner at the moment but you still smiled at him. “Thanks Clint.”

“So the only one left is…”

“Tony,” you said. “He doesn’t trust me.”

“He doesn’t trust Ian either.”

“No but he trusts my father,” you admitted. “He may not like Ian but he isn’t going to go against that decision.”

He hummed, drumming his fingertips on the desk.

“Nat and I will talk to him,” he said. “Let’s see if he changed his mind in the light of these recent developments. Just one question though.”

“Hm?”

“If your father doesn’t change his mind,” he said. “Will you take it from Ian anyway?”

That was a difficult question.

If it were Steve or Sam asking you this, you could answer it truthfully but you didn’t know Clint as well as you knew them. You had no idea if it was a bait, so whatever answer you gave him could change his opinion about backing you up, so you bit inside your cheek, deep in thought.

“I…” you trailed off. “I’m not going to start a war, but I’m not just going to lie back and take it if Ian does. I doubt anyone else would either.”

Clint nodded his head slowly.

“You two are always going to be a threat to each other, he knows that,” he muttered. “He’s an idiot, but not that much of an idiot.”

You shifted your weight on your seat, nibbling on your lip.

“Mm hm.”

“And you do realize that one of you will have to kill the other to get to the top?”

That made your jaw clench before you nodded your head, trying your hardest to ignore the churning in your stomach.

“Nat said the same thing.”

“Because she knows how it goes,” he said. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

You paused only for a moment, an image of you pulling the trigger flashing before your eyes before you smiled at him.

“Sure,” you said. “If it comes down to that, yeah. I’m ready.”

                                                 *

“I don’t understand what the problem is, your whole relationship with Bucky has been nothing but a fight so far,” Becca said as she handed you and Sarah your coffee cups. “I wouldn’t say it’s too big of a deal.”

“We’ve never had a fight like this though,” you muttered and turned to Sarah. “What do you think?”

Sarah shot you a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think it was the best call to hide Rhett from him until that meeting.”

You let out a whine, slipping a little in your seat. “I had a reason!”

“Which was?”

“I didn’t—I—” you stammered. “I didn’t want him to go behind my back and make that deal himself, obviously!”

Sarah and Becca exchanged glances before they turned to you.

“And you think Bucky,” Sarah started. “Bucky who’s been trying to push you to the top ever since you told him you wanted to be the heir would do that?”

“Yeah well, forgive me if I can’t trust mob bosses,” you muttered. “My dad said he wanted me to be the heir, and then what did he do? He took it away from me. I’m not going to let Bucky do that as well, that plan has been in motion for years now, I put in the effort—”

“Should I just text Bucky you have daddy issues and be done with this nonsense?” Becca asked and your jaw dropped.

“I do not have daddy issues!” you insisted. “Sarah, tell her!”

“Your picture comes up when I google daddy issues,” Sarah said with a shrug of her shoulders, making your jaw drop.

“Sarah!”

“I mean if we look at it from Bucky’s perspective, he does have a point in feeling betrayed.”

Your stomach did a painful flip and you took a deep breath, throwing your shoulders back.

“Well you are my best friends so we’re not looking at it from his perspective,” you told Becca, making her let out a small laugh, holding her hands up to gesture surrender while Sarah sipped her coffee.

“Does he at least know you and Rhett had a full on relationship?”

“Was it that bad?”

“It wasn’t good,” you sulked while you and Isla walked out of the building. “I swear if I fail the midterm…”

“You won’t fail,” she assured you and you let out a groan, but then stopped dead on your tracks when your eyes fell on Rhett who was leaning against his jet black car on the other side of the road. A smile curled your lips and you turned to Isla.

“Um—”

“Go ahead,” she said with a wink. “I have to find Bradley anyway.”

“Tell him I said hi!” you called out, already running to Rhett and you threw yourself into his arms, making him chuckle before he lifted you up to sit you down on the hood of the car, his lips claiming yours. You heaved a sigh when he pulled back, then smiled up at him brightly.

“Hi!” you said, your fingers brushing over his curly hair. “I thought you had a meeting!”

“The meeting finished early.”

You tilted your head, pulling your brows together.

“Oh you got rid of him?” you asked. “What was he, a mole?”

He gave you a reprimanding look. “Not in public, baby.”

You rolled your eyes at him, making him chuckle as he squeezed your thigh, still his other hand resting against the hood beside you, caging you in while you fixed your skirt.

“Do you have plans for tonight?”

Rhett hummed. “I have a plan that includes you and a bed, does that count?”

You let out a giggle, pecking him on the lips.

“There’s this party for the end of the midterms,” you said. “Do you want to come with me?”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone at a party,” he stated. “Sure thing, I can tag along.”

“Yay!”

“Before that though, have you—” he started but his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, and took it to his ear.

“Yeah?” he asked while you absentmindedly pulled his gun out of his waistband to check the magazine, humming a song to yourself. “Yeah, no, I had to cut the meeting short. Our usual guys are dealing with the clean up.”

You counted the bullets, then slid the magazine back to its place while Rhett stroked his thumb over your knee, coaxing another giggle out of you.

“Great, thanks,” he said and hung up, making you look up at him as he took the gun from you.

“You’re missing a bullet.”

“It’s inside a guy’s skull as we speak,” he muttered, leaning in to brush his lips against yours and you cupped his cheek, heaving a sigh when he pulled back.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“I had like three energy drinks,” you said as he tilted his head to shoot you a look. “What, it’s the midterms week!”

“Let’s have lunch in bed.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing, Rhett.”

“Should be a thing,” he mused, dragging his fingertips up your leg, making you swat at his hand.

“We’re in public!” you reminded him, making him chuckle. “Anyways, what are we eating then?”

“You’re eating whatever you want and I’m eating you out.”

You tried to ignore the fire spreading over your face as your jaw dropped.

“Very romantic—” you started but you were cut off when his phone started vibrating again, making him grit his teeth before answering.

“What, dickhead?” he snapped at whoever it was on the phone. “I’m with my girl, the fuck do you want?”

“Be nice!” you whispered to him and he shook his head slightly.

“Yeah Lucas, he knows,” he said. “I called him before I called the clean up guys. Can you handle your shit or should I come there and hold your hand?”

You raised your brows as he hung up the phone, then turned to you.

“Sorry about that baby.”

“No problem,” you said “So that was Lucas on the phone?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “He wants to know if my dad knows about how the meeting ended. Anyways, as I was saying—”

“You do realize he wants your position?”

That made him pause and he frowned. “What?”

“Lucas,” you said, leaning back on your palms. “He wants your position as the prince of Chicago and he will try to stab you in the back.”

His eyes searched yours before he scoffed a laugh.

“Lucas is as loyal as a dog,” he said. “What makes you think that?”

“He glares at you the way my cousin glares at me,” you pointed out. “Whenever you’re not looking.”

His frown deepened and he thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“Nah,” he brushed it off. “No way. As I said, loyal as a dog.”

“But Rhett, your position—”

“The only position I care about right now is the one I’ll put you in when we get to my place,” he muttered to your lips with a smirk, making you giggle before he stole a kiss. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

“It didn’t come up,” you muttered. “Besides, it isn’t as if we were serious.”

“You kind of were.”

“Debatable.”

“You need to tell him,” Sarah insisted, making you turn your cup in your palms just to distract yourself. “It’s better than Rhett telling him, no?”

“I guess,” you said. “I just don’t think he likes me nowadays.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

“You two need to start actually talking to each other.”

You huffed out a breath, then sipped your coffee.

“I mean we have the therapist appointment,” you said. “Which, I don’t even know if he will show up but…”

“You are feeding false information to the therapist,” Sarah reminded you as if trying to help you. “Try to talk to each other truthfully, maybe?”

You clicked your tongue, turning the cup between your palms.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Can’t hurt to try I guess.”

                                         *

The therapist appointment was uncomfortable to say at the very least. Bucky kept quiet for the most of it despite Dr. Raynor’s efforts to include him in the conversation, and the answers he gave her were pretty curt, so it came as a no surprise when Dr. Raynor put her notebook aside.

“I’m sensing a tension?” she said, motioning between you two while Bucky bounced his leg, his gaze darting to the clock on the wall before returning to her.

“We’ve had a disagreement,” you said, making him grit his teeth.

“Y/N.”

“We’re in a therapy session and you haven’t talked to me for the last week,” you said. “Might as well.”

“You haven’t talked to each other for the last week?”

“I did try,” you defended yourself and Bucky crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the table.

“Bucky?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Don’t do that!” you insisted. “You’re angry at me for some reason—”

“For some reason?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

“What happened?” Dr. Raynor asked and you licked your lips, then sat up straighter.

“We’re going to make a deal with a business partner,” you said. “Bucky is angry because I know him.”

“No Y/N, I’m angry because despite us having a deal, you went behind my back.”

“I didn’t go behind your back,” you protested. “Not sharing every single detail with you isn’t going behind your back.”

“You knowingly kept me out of the loop and that’s not going behind my back?” he asked and you threw your hands up.

“Bucky—”

“Do you feel like Y/N betrayed your trust, Bucky?”

Your jaw dropped as you looked at Dr. Raynor. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah actually,” Bucky said. “We had a deal and it turns out she’s had all these plans that she didn’t let me know about. Including knowing the guy—which by the way, you never did tell me how you know him.”

Your heart skipped a nervous beat and you let out a breath. “I don’t think it’s the place for it.”

“I disagree, you were the one who started it,” Bucky said. “So? How?”

You bit inside your cheek, then cleared your throat, motioning vaguely. “We used to date.”

Bucky gawked at you for a couple of seconds in complete silence before a dry laugh climbed up his throat and he ran a hand over his face.

“You used to date,” he said, dragging the tip of his tongue over his lip. “Of course…”

“That’s not even relevant—”

“Oh it’s very relevant,” Bucky cut you off, glaring at you. “What he—he still loves you or something? That’s why he’ll say yes to the deal? Because he thinks he has a shot?”

“Wh—no!” you exclaimed. “Do you hear yourself right now? It’s completely irrelevant!”

“Says you.”

“In case it has escaped your notice, we’re married, dickhead!”

“Alright, let’s calm down,” Dr. Raynor said but neither of you spared her a look.

“How is it irrelevant that the guy you used to date happens to only want to talk to you or make a deal with you?”

“Because I made sure that he trusts me!”

“Yeah?” he provoked you. “And how did you do that?”

 “By being good at this fucking job, how do you think?” you snapped back but before Bucky could retort, Dr. Raynor cleared her throat.

“Let’s continue this conversation in our next appointment,” she said and Bucky scoffed, then stood up to walk out of the office. You smiled at Dr. Raynor, standing up as well.

“See you next week, Dr. Raynor,” you said and went after Bucky, only catching up with him when you stepped outside.

“Bucky!” you called out and he turned around to give you a quizzical look. You licked your lips and stepped closer to him, not even sparing a glance at the bodyguards waiting for him by his car.

“Do you mind?” you asked him, nodding at the nearest back alley and he looked like he would say no, but he still followed you there. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms, looking up at him.

“I was going to tell you about me and Rhett,” you said and he let out a dry chuckle.

“Yeah,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Sure.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I trust you as much as you trust me,” he pointed out, making you swallow thickly.

“Don’t be like that,” you muttered. “First you ignore me for a week and now—”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

Even you were aware of the petulant tone in your voice; “You’ve barely looked my way since the sit down!”

“I will talk to you when I have something to talk to you about.”

“If you’re expecting an apology—”

“Oh I know you better than that,” he cut you off. “Is that all or do you need anything else? I’m going to be late to my meeting.”

“Stop fucking treating me like one of those mob wives,” you growled and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not,” he said. “I told you. I’m treating you like a business partner. That’s what you said you wanted, isn’t it?”

You gritted your teeth, glaring up at him in silence and he had the audacity to give you a dry smile.

“Great. See you at home.”

He walked away from you and soon you heard the car driving off. You let out a furious breath, then leaned back to the wall, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

“Very well then,” you muttered to yourself and got your phone out of your pocket, then found the name in your contacts. Your heartbeat sped up as your finger hovered over the screen, but you took a deep breath, touched it and took the phone to your ear.

It only rang once.

“Finally,” the familiar drawl reached you. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t call sweetheart.”

You could feel the smile curling your lips.

“Hi Rhett,” you said. “Do you have a moment?”

Chapter 33

[yourmcu]

Ace

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Gamer!Stark!Reader, Avengers x Reader

Summary:

Your girlfriend, your dad, along with the rest of the Avengers, support you during a VALORANT tournament.

Word count: 4.6k+

Warnings: too much VALORANT descriptions, you can google stuff about it if you want to get a good visual of this story, basically an avengers fic as a whole but i love supportive gf nat >:(

A/n: one of the drafts I left a long time ago! I miss writing for the avengers, so I decided to finish this one.

(completely italic dialogues - casters commentating)

All the hollering from the lounge died down when Natasha practically shoved both Sam and Bucky off the couch, stealing the TV remote in the process. Their basketball game can wait, her girlfriend’s tournament is more important.

“Oh, shoot. Y/N/N's tournament is today?” Sam suddenly remembered and Bucky made a quick detour out of the lounge to fetch Steve and possibly the others. They kind of promised you they'd support your game this time around, with the knowledge that they had free time on the dates of your tournament. Sam snapped his fingers, “Snacks. I'll be right back.”

No, you weren’t a professional athlete; if anything, you’re the opposite. Your wrists move more than your whole body most of the time, you only stay an hour or less in the gym, and you prioritize getting better in Aim Lab than a shooting range.

Ever since women playing in VALORANT E-Sports were normalized, you were one of the anticipated gamers to compete, of course you were on board and signed on to an esports organization and team roster. You’ve made a name for yourself in the gaming industry because of your high IQ and big brain plays. You used your head in every match, every round unlike the majority of the players mindlessly aiming and not landing shots. Because of your career, you’re known for something else and not just Iron Man’s daughter.

Natasha didn’t like the fact that you were glued to your computer most of the time at first. She thought Tony spoiled you too much even as an adult, but she later on realized that you graduated with a degree before settling into gaming. You worked for the Avengers, sometimes as an IT for a big company which paid more than you needed. You were basically set. All of this while you were still pretty young, a little younger than Natasha.

It’s safe to say all of Natasha’s doubts went away. She felt rather impressed and took a liking to you, which developed into something more over time.

From her phone, you chuckled when you heard Sam and Bucky’s shuffling. “We’re not up for another thirty minutes, babe.” On your end, you and your team were with the event's coordinators backstage of the actual place the tourney was held. Natasha always called you before and after your events, just because she was the best supportive girlfriend ever.

“I know, I wanted to set everything up before anything else,” Natasha put you on speaker while she dealt with the TV’s settings. You smiled to yourself, absolutely adoring your girlfriend even more when she was eager and supporting your games. “Are you guys still at the hotel?”

You had to travel out of the country for the tournament. As much as Natasha wanted to go with you (Clint wanted to go too because he ‘needed a break’, you just rolled your eyes at him and laughed), being a full time hero and an Avenger doesn’t mean you get to travel 24/7. She has to be with the team in case something terribly wrong happens, which doesn’t come with a warning. “Backstage, actually. Cloud9 and Misfits are wrapping up their last match right now,” You replied. “I've already warmed up at the hotel earlier. It's crazy how our room fits all of our PCs.”

“Ah, c'mon, you don't need no warm-ups!” Sam teased, hearing you on speaker as he walked back with refreshments and an assortment of chip bags.

You giggled, rolling your eyes at the Falcon’s words. “Stop it, Sam. You know me; I always get tilted when I play too much before the actual competition.”

Sometimes you get anxious and it affects your performance, same goes for when you warm-up too much; you lose focus the more games you play, leaving nothing for the tournament.

Despite Natasha's excitement to watch your team play, she’s not too vocal about it. She wouldn’t squeal when it starts or bombard you with loud encouragement through the call, because one, she doesn’t want to be the embarrassing girlfriend, and two, she’s the Black Widow. She’s naturally subtle about everything. You knew her more than anyone else though, so even if that was the case, you still felt her support.

Thirty minutes went by quicker than you’d hope, you were so caught up in watching the game of the other rivaling teams and commenting on everything that happened whilst still in the call with Natasha. You also answered Bucky’s queries when he came back; he’s only ever heard of e-sports since you started competing in it. He couldn’t imagine how hard switching point of views and the player’s face cameras must be. Bucky has only watched, what, actual live game tournaments, basketball or chess or whatever. It was confusing to him at times, but you told him he’d get used to it eventually just by taking note of the red and blue colors.

You were cut off by one of your teammates placing a hand on your shoulder, signaling you that it was time to go. “Alright. Nat, I have to go, I’ll call you when I get back?”

The two men were the first ones you heard react, Sam shifted in his seat excitedly while Bucky wondered out loud if he should call Tony, Peter, and Bruce, who were all unnecessarily working overtime at the lab.

You felt yourself smile again when she spoke. “Okay,” Natasha bit her lip, feeling anxious about the tournament, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Good luck!” Sam shouted before you hung up.

Natasha almost snorted when she heard loud footsteps coming towards the lounge entrance. Her sister had the worst timings ever.

“Someone decided to take a long shit while we were heading back. Has Y/N’s game started yet?” Yelena walked in as fast as she could with Fanny, looking at Natasha expectantly as she shrugged off her thick coat and got out of her boots. Fanny ran to where the couches were as soon as Yelena removed her leash, wagging her tail happily without a clue in the world.

“About to, but you did miss her on the phone.”

“Ah, fuck.”

Soon, Bruce, Tony, Peter, Wanda and Vision came down to watch as well. Your tournaments were one of the occasions the team had the chance to bond and get together in one room, it definitely helped with the morale as Steve would think, and they have you to thank for that.

Everyone was just in time to see you walk out to the stage with your team and the opposing one. You were in your team jersey and arm sleeves with your teammates behind you in a straight line.

Tony woot-ed, plopping down next to Natasha. “Heard Y/N/N's team is going up against a brand new team roster. This should be a piece of cake for her, eh?”

Peter sat down beside him, looking at the said rival team with yours, all lined up on stage. “I don't know about that, Mr. Stark. One of them recently went viral after getting five aces on a ranked game. She's radiant, too.”

Admittedly, he also played VALORANT with you and Ned, but often miscalculates his strength as he frequently breaks his keyboard or mouse because of freaking out whenever he sees an enemy. His reflexes and fighting skills were better off used in real time.

“And Y/N/N's been on the top ten leaderboard for, what, six months?” Tony challenged, evidently confident in your skills.

The chatter on who's better than who died down when both teams sat down on their respective computers. Though it wasn’t that noticeable to most people, Natasha noticed it right away: you were wearing the necklace she gave you. You considered it your lucky charm.

After both teams chose the maps they wanted to ban and maps they wanted to play, the game started.

You mostly play the character - or agent - Killjoy. The agent reminded you so much of yourself from her overall vibe and game mechanic: she had utility to aid the whole team, from turrets to alarm bots, and an ultimate that conducts lockdowns on any part of the map. You were so used to that character that you even played her on maps she’s not very helpful at because you mastered everything about her, which made you stand out from other players as no one would dare use characters on maps they weren't good in. Gears were practically turning in your head as the game loaded.

Then, the first game commenced.

The Avengers always made noise whenever you got a kill, or whenever the casters praised you for outsmarting the opposing team, which Steve and Bucky appreciated because it was hard for them to distinguish whether or not you did something good.

Your team easily won the first game. The Avengers were now watching your tournament on the flat screen TV like a bunch of teenagers watching a romcom, all giddy and filled with anticipation.

“Look at that, 13-1? She’s insane." Bruce shook his head. A team needed to win at least 13 rounds to win, if it's neck and neck, 14, or they may choose to go into overtime.

“I’ve never seen Y/N play with that kind of aggression before; they don’t stand a chance.” Wanda pointed out. She liked to spectate from the side whenever you played at the compound, whenever she could.

Natasha’s lips turned upright when they replayed your team’s best moments. One included your one versus three clutch, in which you threw a taunting, questioning look at the opposing roster across the stage after you effortlessly took out three enemies on your own. It was like their heads weren’t in the game at all.

The team laughed when they showed the exact clip of your face camera mocking the other team across the room. Natasha liked that about you; sure you were reserved and shy in general, but she loved it when all your confidence just comes out while you’re out there.

Another clip was when you had a problem with communication, so you weren’t aware that there were enemies around. Your character didn’t stop running because of that and you were exposed to two enemies. You reacted fast and jumped, pulled out your vandal to shoot both of them in the face.

Tony clapped his hands together at that moment. “Let’s go. Let’s fucking go, Y/N/N.”

Natasha, not all that phased on your brilliant play, could still not contain the smile on her face as she plopped back down on the couch.

“What? Wait, hold on, how did she even-” Sam looked back at everyone while they reacted to the highlight. He didn’t exactly process what happened because you moved too fast.

“God reflexes,” Yelena shrugs, not looking away from the screen. Wanda laughs in agreement.

After a bit of commentary and commercials, it was on to the next match on a new map.

Now, Natasha did not know the difference between the multiple maps at all, but she did remember you mentioning that your weakest one had to do with ice.

The next match was on a map called Icebox.

So, she watched intently as your team took a little while during the agent selection. But in the end, you decided to go for Killjoy again. Natasha could only guess what you had in mind to pull off another win.

“This is highly unusual for [Team Name] Y/N, isn’t it? Right now she’s watching the flanks when we usually expect her to be out there with a duelist to try and take picks!” The caster exclaimed, looking at their partner caster. “She’s one of the strong sentinels who you would trust to be by your side - and look at that, she takes out two already, they did not expect anyone to be holding the flank!”

“But she's using Killjoy again - couldn't she have gone for Cypher or Sage? Then again, they already have Skye on their team.”

Even though you were trying to play smart in this map, you still hated it, it was your weakest one. Still good, but not all that great. The opposing team seemed to know the typical Killjoy strategy on the Icebox map. You got sniped every round and your setups were way too predictable to the opposing team.

Soon, the score was 4-10. It was definitely not good to be on the end of only winning four rounds. Your team had to win the remaining rounds or hope for the best and go to overtime, or you lose this game and go onto the third one which would be way nerve racking and increase the odds of losing.

“Intense match so far we've got here. With [Team Name] Y/N at the bottom of the leaderboard this just has to be a miracle for [Team Name] to get a second win and move on to the next round.”

“There's also a bit of a setback with her shots in the last few rounds. I guess this is when we get to see if she's learned a thing or two from her girlfriend, right?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “They honestly did not have to bring that up.”

The other commentator expressed confusion at their partner's comment.

“The Black Widow! [Team Name] Y/N's been dating her for the last couple years. Honestly, where have you been?”

Everyone groaned as they started bringing your dating life to the conversation when they should be sticking to the game. Tony chose to laugh it off to and ignore the annoyance, whereas Yelena mumbled, “Did they just turn into a morning show now?”

After everyone in your team died, you all decided to ask for a timeout to talk things out. While that was going on, the Avengers had their own timeout and were trying to talk about the game, or at least what they thought was happening.

“Okay, assuming we've all seen how this Killjoy character works, her character would make most sense if her utility was in Site A." Bruce said, in thought.

Vision, one of the smartest of the bunch, had not grasped the game mechanics that well over the hour and half of the tournament. "But why is that, Dr. Banner?"

“Site A is pretty cramped, while site B has a lot of space. Of course the opposing team would always go to B since Y/N’s character's utility can't place utilities in both sites, they only have limited range," Peter points to the map as soon as it's shown up close, the casters having their own separate conversation about it.

Bucky turned to a confused Steve and Sam, “I have no idea what they're talking about.”

“Where else would she put her chicken gun on site B, then?” Tony joined the conversation, talking about your character's utility placement.

“It’s,” Natasha sighed. “It’s not a chicken gun...”

“Well, that chicken gun slows down enemies, right? It would make sense if Y/N places those bomb thingies to instantly kill them.” Yelena said.

“Lena, I think Y/N is fairly capable of playing the game right,” Wanda chuckled.

“Then she should be winning.” Yelena said jokingly, chugging on her drink.

It was astonishing how a group of heroes are knowledgeable about a video game, just so they could follow what you enjoy doing. That's how much they adored you.

Clint entered the room and looked at the source of ruckus, absolutely sick of the discourse. He was aware of your tournament and has been probably spectating on different means. “They still get another match if they lose this one. It’s the best out of three.”

“I’m starting to think someone’s cheating, has anyone noticed that some of the opponent team instantly kill them with only one bullet?” Steve squinted.

Tony scoffed. “That’s ridiculous, it’s a tournament.”

“It’s because they hit them precisely on the head, Steve. Who wouldn’t die if they got shot in the head?” Sam crossed his arms.

“Me,” that came from Vision.

“You don’t count.”

They all turned back to the screen once the timeout timer ran out. Natasha could sense the tension in your team, just from the way you glanced across the stage… she could tell you were gonna have a different way of playing the remaining rounds. The screen turned to you stretching your neck from both sides, seriousness evident in your face as you clutched your mouse, ready for the game to resume.

“And we're back, and it seems that [Team Name] had enough time to come up with a different game plan. We've got one duelist camping B, one on mid, and look at [Team Name] Y/N's utility. She's got her alarm bot and nano-swarms over on A, but her turret is on B as she's over by tunnel to keep it active.”

“Again, I have no idea what he's talking about.” Bucky shrugged, crossed his arms and kept his eyes on the screen.

After fixing your team's strategy, all that was left was to deliver with accurate shots and stay alive as much as possible. By the end of a few rounds, with your team’s communication and teamwork flawless than ever, the score was 12-11. Your team only had to win one more time to officially win.

At this point, Yelena and Wanda were loudly reacting to the gameplay, Sam and Tony were howling, rooting for you. Clint ended up setting himself on one of the sofa's arms, invested in the match.

Natasha was on the edge of her seat, clutching the couch cushions. She couldn’t help but chuckle when they showed your reaction momentarily, clearly breathless and eyes wide, fist bumping your teammates seated beside you.

“Oh, what a comeback! The most intense so far, am I right?” The caster exclaimed.

“[Team Name] only has to win one more round before moving on to the next part of this tournament!”

The last round wasn’t exactly in your team’s favor in the half. Three of your team got killed already, only two of you remaining and the five of the enemy team. The rival team obviously did not want to hand over the win that easily.

After the call of another successful kill by the opposing team, you were the last one standing against a full set of players. You would either have to clutch up the round or go into overtime.

Clint perked up, pulling out his wallet. “Alright, who wants to get the bets started?” He asked, placing down a crisp fifty dollar bill on the coffee table. “Y/N wins the game.”

They all stopped to look at him as if he was a madman.

“C’mon, Barton, it’s one versus five.” Sam pointed out.

“So what? Am I the only one who believes in Y/N here? Oh, Nat, you better start placing fifties.”

Natasha merely rolled her eyes, not once wanting to bet on or against her girl. Her eyes glued to the screen in which your character is cautiously checking if the area is clear to plant the bomb.

But Tony pulled out the same type of bill from his wallet, placing it on top of the archer's money.

“Mr. Stark, you do realize you're betting against-” Peter started.

“Hush, spiderling. Watch the game.” Tony brushed him off and watched the screen intently.

Tony was proud of you, truly. But it would also be funny to tease you lovingly when you go home as a loser.

You set up your utility, kind of surprised the whole enemy team went to the other site in which they thought you were heading. They did not leave anyone behind to make sure, as per your cautious scan of the area before settling. After checking all angles again, with thirty seconds to spare, you planted the spike.

“This is a dangerous game to play. She has to hold a lot of angles by herself, they could come in from anywhere.”

The spike continued to beep, which added a lot more tension among the Avengers. Natasha alternated from looking at the actual game to your face camera, of which was the only one left colored. You kept pacing at one of the hiding places, waiting for the slightest noise or actions from the other team.

You decided to peek at one of the entrances to the site once, the Jett with an operator narrowly missed your head so you took the opportunity to blast her head off. Afterwards, your alarm bot from the other side of your hiding place went off, so you went and peeked quickly, managing to pick off another player from the opposite team. Two down, three to go.

The Avengers erupted in noise. Sam and Peter were losing their minds, Bucky and Steve had amazed grins on their faces, and Natasha was clinging on to Yelena and Fanny like a fangirl trying to contain herself.

“What was that?!”

“She's a god!”

“My god, this is way too intense for me.”

Both commentators erupted in surprised glee as well. “A double kill from [Team Name] Y/N! The others are slowly making their way into the site, what will she do?!”

A Sova fired a dart to hopefully reveal your location on the map, but you were too quick to shoot it down to cancel it. But, the Sova spotted you anyway, and was able to shoot you until you were at only 50 HP.

You hid again and recalled your turret, placing it on top of the wall in front of you before sneaking your way to the opposite side. It could watch your back while you attempt to peek on the other side to surprise your enemies.

That move managed to catch one of the other players trying to sneak in as well, and you killed them off with ease. Three down, two to go.

“Down goes [Player Name]! Sova and Yoru are still on the lookout, it's like an intense version of hide & seek up in here!”

Barely anyone was talking now, all eyes on the enormous screen.

“Y/N has her ult!” Peter pointed out.

That you did, as your third kill managed to unlock enough points for it. Aware of its availability, you hurried off to the perfect spot to plant it to cover almost the entire site, still hidden from your enemies. Killjoy's voice rang through the game, saying 'Initiated!', when you planted her ultimate.

“What's that? What's happening?” Steve asked.

“Well, it's called 'lockdown', so I'm assuming it's locking off the area within its perimeter... trapping everyone inside...” Bruce said, lost in thought because of the game.

The Yoru activated their ultimate in time with yours, and you were now twice as cautious, looking around for blue swirls of the duelist to avoid getting sniped easily. He tried to blind you, but you were quick to move your view away from the flash to avoid it. Stupidly, the Yoru's ultimate ran out while trying to destroy your lockdown, so you killed them without hesitation. Four down, one to go.

Clint cackled at the turn of events while the others continued to freak out, teasing Tony, a billionaire, on losing a fifty-dollar bet. “What did I tell you, Stark?! What did I tell you?!”

The spike's beeps started getting faster and you could finally see the finish line. But, you were still cautious as they still had more than enough time to defuse if they managed to kill you.

“You know, [Team Name] Y/N could just leave the site at this point. It's game over for [Rival Team Name].”

“Ah, don't speak too soon there! [Team Name] Y/N's now inspecting the outer corners of the site, unaware of [Rival Team Name] [Player]'s sneaky entrance - and she's placed a smoke down, ready to defuse!”

Of course you were unaware of the opponent's whereabouts. But, you did hear the defuse sound go off for a second. With that, you head back, holding a grenade to throw near the area of the spike.

“She's got this in the bag.” Sam said in content.

After a few seconds, the defusing sound started up again, but you were certain that the grenade you set off did some damage to your opponent on top of the information you got from your teammates before they died.

You started to jiggle-peek from your spot, clearly visible from your opponent's perspective, so they had no choice but to stop defusing the spike to try and shoot you.

Unfortunately, they did a number on you, so you decided to go around. Once the cooldown reset on your turret, you placed it down on one side for intel. With only 20 HP left, you snuck up to the other side of the obstacle to hopefully pull off a knife kill for the finale.

“This game is way more intense than I thought.” Bucky spoke thoughtfully amidst the suspense-filled silence.

“Shhhh!”

“Oh my god, she's got her knife out.” Natasha said in disbelief, watching your character sneak up behind your opponent whose back is facing you.

“So?”

“Just wait for it.” Natasha bit her lip, knowing fully well how you always prefer a devastating way to end a match.

The commentators were freaking out, a combination of “no's”, “don't do this”, and “not like this” rang through the Avengers' speakers. It was considered devastating in the VALORANT community to be killed in game with a knife instead of a gun or anything else. The opponent is oblivious, having already defused half of the spike, but they didn't know what would soon come.

You strike your knife at their head, killing them instantly, the spike left undefused. The game graphics became slow motion while the screen flashed green with 'VICTORY' in the middle of it all. You stood up almost immediately, proud of your savage last kill, fist-bumping all your teammates.

“AN ACE FROM [Team Name] Y/N! [Team Name] IS GOING TO THE MASTERS!”

You hugged your team as well before turning to the camera nearest to you, blowing hot air onto the lens, and tracing a heart followed by a cheeky grin and a wink.

“Yup, she's a Stark alright!”

Roars and cheers emitted from the commentators, the present audience, and the Avengers. Sam yelled and everyone followed, but the loudest one was Clint, who then swooped down to collect his cash prize for winning the bet. Tony didn't care at all, laughing along with the others; he had something new to brag about his kid. Natasha's cheeks flushed, as they always did when it came to you.

“SHE WON!”

“I'll get the booze!”

“In your face, Stark!”

“Cap, you stepped on my foot!”

Natasha unlocked her phone to take a quick picture of the livestream of the heart you drew on the camera, as well as of the stage displaying all of your team's headshots with an abundance of confetti almost covering it. All she wanted now was to call you, but she knew you probably had interviews and post-game rituals with your team, and she had champagne to drink with her own team in celebration of you.

The next morning, on a quick flight back home, the first thing that caught your attention was Natasha's Instagram story of the tournament. Your family supported and watched the tourney for you, as the following slides of her story consisted of the team chugging on champagne, Clint showing off an apparent bet that he won, and Peter and Sam posing in front of the TV when your face camera was shown up close.

Smiling, you liked her stories and replied with 'Thank you for supporting me, my love. I'll see you all soon'.

[midastouch013]

"God Must Hate Me"

Based on this request

Summary: When your girlfriend tells you what's making her withdraw from everyone, what do you do?

Warnings: Nat lowkey hating herself. Mentions of God. Self-hatred. Mentions of numbness. Mentions of Red Room. Mention of scars.

----

It had been almost a year since you started dating Natasha Romanoff, and everything had been going perfectly. But lately, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Natasha seemed to be withdrawing from you, from her friends, and from her sister too.

You noticed it first when Natasha stopped joining you for movie nights. She used to love cuddling up with you on the couch, sharing popcorn and watching your favorite films. But now, she always had some excuse to avoid it.

"Nat, I rented that movie you wanted to watch," you'd say hopefully, holding up the DVD as she passed by.

"Sorry, babe, I'm really tired tonight. Maybe another time," she'd reply with a forced smile, already halfway out the door.

You shrugged it off at first, thinking she was just going through a busy time at work. But then you noticed she was avoiding her friends too.

"Hey, Nat, Pepper's invited us over for dinner tonight. She's making your favorite lasagna," you'd say, trying to tempt her.

"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to stay in tonight. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on," she'd reply, barely looking up from her laptop.

Even Yelena couldn't seem to get through to her.

"Natasha, we never see each other anymore. Can we please have lunch together today?" Yelena would ask, looking hurt.

"I'm sorry, Lena, I just have a lot on my mind right now. Rain check?" Natasha would reply, not meeting her sister's eyes.

But it wasn't just her friends and family she was avoiding. Natasha seemed to be retreating into herself more and more each day. You'd find her in the gym for hours on end, pushing herself to the limit with no explanation.

"Nat, you've been in here for three hours. Don't you think you should take a break?" you'd ask, concerned.

"I'm fine, Y/n. I just need to work off some steam," she'd reply, not even breaking a sweat.

Or you'd find her in the garden, sitting alone and gazing off into the distance.

"Natasha, is everything okay?" you'd ask softly, sitting down beside her.

She'd startle slightly, as if she hadn't even realized you were there.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'm just… thinking," she'd reply vaguely, not meeting your eyes.

And then there were the times when she would accidentally ignore you, lost in her own thoughts.

"Nat, I was talking to you," you'd say, trying to get her attention.

"Huh? Sorry, what did you say?" she'd reply, looking confused.

You watched all of this unfold, feeling more and more confused and sad with each passing day. You didn't understand why Natasha was pulling away from everyone, including you. You tried to give her space, hoping she would open up to you eventually. But as the days turned into weeks, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.

---

As you finished your day's work at the hospital, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Natasha. Clint's call had left you deeply concerned. You knew something was wrong, and you couldn't shake the feeling of dread as you drove home.

Pulling into the driveway, you noticed Natasha sitting on the porch, her gaze fixed on the neighbor's child playing with her dog and toys. There was a sadness in her eyes that made your heart ache.

As you sat silently beside her, Natasha broke the silence with a heavy sigh.

"Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, God must hate me'?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't respond verbally; instead, you simply placed your hand on hers, offering silent support, waiting for her to continue.

"'Cause He spent so much time on them, " she gestured towards the family in the backyard. The father and mother had joined the child, and they looked so happy together. "And for me, He got lazy. Got ample mental illness, personality flaws…" Her fingers subconsciously clenched. "Like, have you seen me? Yelena? Melina and Alexei? How messed up we are."

"While their only flaw seems to be that they have none at all," she continued, gesturing again towards the family. The child sat on the father's shoulders while their mother took a picture of them.

And then Natasha repeated, her voice heavy with emotion, "Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, God must hate me'? Because I do."

As Natasha's words hung heavy in the air, you felt your heart breaking for her. Gently, you spoke up, your voice soft but firm.

"Nat, it's not your fault. None of it is. It's the Red Room's fault, Dreykov's fault, for putting you through all of that," you said, trying to reassure her. "And maybe even God's fault, if one chose to believe in the almighty."

She let out a bitter laugh, her sarcasm cutting through the air like a knife.

"For everything that's wrong with me, I can't hold myself responsible. So I blame the metaphysical, because obviously, they're the ones who killed those people, not me, because I wasn't the one holding the gun," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Natasha continued to speak, her words weighing heavily on your heart.

"You know, a nun came up to me today. She told me that Jesus died for all our sins. If Jesus died for all our sins… He left one behind, the body I'm in," she said, her voice filled with sorrow.

Then, in her usual defensive humor, she added, "That means that the same hands that made the moon and the stars obviously got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts."

You didn't chuckle at her attempt at humor. Instead, you intertwined your fingers with hers, a silent gesture of comfort, and told her not to speak like that.

"I thought you didn't even believe in God," you said softly.

But Natasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know what I believe. But it's easier to think He made a mistake with me."

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of her words hitting you like a ton of bricks.

As the neighbor's child laughed loudly, climbing up the tree in their backyard, her mother fretting while her father cheered her on, Natasha smiled wistfully at them.

" Do you ever see someone and think, 'Wow, they got lucky'? The craftsmanship of their bones, their brain, and their body," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the family.

She seemed to drift into a reverie before continuing, "All I got at her age…" She pointed to the girl. "Was a fake family, scars, and pain."

"Babe," you started, unsure of what to say.

But Natasha continued, her voice distant, "When I look into the mirror for too long, it hurts. And don't get me started on how I eat. I can eat the least amount of food ever and want to enjoy myself with one dessert, and see another person do the same, except they don't track how many steps it takes to burn off dessert."

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, they got lucky"

I'll let 'em take accountability For everything that's wrong with me Can't hold myself responsible So I'll blame the metaphysical If Jesus died for all our sins He left one behind, the body I'm in Same hands that made the moon and the stars Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts

I don't know what I believe But it's easier to think He made a mistake with me

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me" 'Cause He spent so much time on them and for me, He got lazy

You listened quietly, feeling her pain as if it were your own. You wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, that she was perfect just the way she was. But you knew that words alone wouldn't be enough to heal her wounds. Natasha's words overwhelmed you, the lump in your throat growing bigger. You wanted to cry too, but you held it in, knowing that Natasha needed you to be strong for her.

"I'll be right back, Nat," you said softly, gently pulling away from her and making your way into the house.

Once inside, you took a deep breath, trying to gain some emotional control. And so you busied yourself making a cup of tea for Natasha, knowing that if you went out right no, you'd be of no help and she'd just shut you out.

As you looked out the window, you noticed that it had started raining. You felt a pang of worry when you saw Natasha still sitting on the porch, getting soaked by the rain.

Without a second thought, you rushed back outside, ignoring the rain as you pulled Natasha in from the porch. She didn't respond, but you wrapped her in the warmest hug you could manage, holding her close despite the rain soaking through your clothes.

"Do you want to change?"

Natasha remained numb not replying , so you too matters into your own hands. You gently scooped her into your arms, carrying her upstairs to the bathroom. She didn't resist, didn't protest, just allowed you to take care of her.

You stripped her out of her wet clothes, bathing her gently, all the while she remained unresponsive. You helped her into your favorite pajamas of hers, knowing how much she loved wearing them, and then tucked her into bed, attending to her needs with care and tenderness.

Despite holding back your own tears, you offered her words of comfort, reassuring her that you were there for her, that you would always be there for her.

Finally, as you tucked her in properly, Natasha showed the first sign of emotion. She grabbed onto your now wet t-shirt, pleading with you not to go, repeating the words over and over again like a mantra.

You gently brushed the hair away from her face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I'm not going anywhere, Nat," you whispered, your voice filled with reassurance. "I'm just going to change my clothes, and then I'll be right back. I promise."

With one last comforting squeeze, you reluctantly pulled away, leaving Natasha alone in the bed as you made your way to the bathroom to change.

After you changed into dry clothes, you climbed back into bed with Natasha, gently dragging her into your arms so that your back was resting against the headboard, and she was nestled between your legs with her back to your front. You wrapped your arms securely around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder, holding her close as she remained numb and silent.

"Nat," you began softly, your voice steady but full of emotion, "I know you feel like everything you've been through defines you, but I want you to see the other side of it too."

She stayed quiet, but you continued, knowing she was listening.

"You talked about your childhood and how it felt like a fake family. But that 'fake' family is the one who threatened to end me when you told them we were dating," you said, a small smile playing on your lips at the memory. "They cared for you so much that when we had that huge argument, Alexei broke down my door and shattered my vase, just to make sure you were okay."

Natasha's fingers twitched slightly, a sign she was absorbing your words.

"That 'fake' family knew you so well that Melina sent me your favorite foods when you were feeling down. And Yelena, she almost killed Clint and me because of Vormir. She loves you so much, Nat. They all do."

You could feel her body gradually relaxing ever so slightly in your embrace.

"And let's not forget the Avengers. Clint has scolded me more times than I can count when we fought. Tony gave us a whole ass house to live in. Steve and Sam drop by weekly just to check in. Wanda and Peter are practically our kids. Kate and Yelena—they're like sisters to us, though I'm sure they're dating at this point. Maria and Fury even gave me death threats when they thought I hurt you, and they are scary, almost enough to rival you and Lena."

You paused, feeling a lump form in your throat as you continued, "Whether or not you realize it, you're so lucky to have people who love you like that. The Red Room did awful things to you, but it didn't destroy you. It made you who you are today. A survivor. A sister. A daughter. A friend. A best friend. A girlfriend."

Tears filled your eyes, but you held them back, focusing on Natasha.

"I'm not saying the Red Room made you stronger, because that would dismiss the pain you've been through. But it shaped you into the incredible person you are. And you are loved, so deeply and fiercely."

You held Natasha tightly, feeling her slowly beginning to trust your words as her body leaned into yours for comfort. The rain continued to fall outside, creating a soothing background noise as you continued to speak, wanting to reassure her as much as you could.

"And that thing you said about not being able to look at yourself in the mirror? That's total bull crap," you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Because you look so freaking hot and sexy to me, Nat. Every time I see you, I can't believe how lucky I am."

You felt her body relax a little more in your arms, and you took a deep breath, continuing.

"I love you, regardless of anything. The Red Room, Dreykov, all the horrible things that happened—they don't define you. What defines you is your heart, your strength, your kindness. And if God really does exist, yeah, he put you through some serious shit, and I hate him for that. But he sure made up for it with the family you've gotten, and he sure as hell blessed me by giving you to me."

Natasha's grip on your arm tightened even more, and she turned slightly to look at you, tears in her eyes.

"Don't go," she whispered again, her voice breaking.

"I'm not going anywhere," you assured her, your own voice trembling with emotion. "I'm here, and I'm staying right here with you."

You held her tightly, feeling her slowly begin to trust your words, her body leaning into yours for comfort. As the rain continued to fall outside, you both sat there in silence, wrapped in each other's embrace, knowing that together, you could face whatever came next.

"I love you, Nat," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "And I'm here for you, always."

She nodded slightly, her head resting against your chest. "I love you too," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with emotion.

As Natasha finally fell asleep, cuddled up against you, you carefully reached for your phone, not wanting to disturb her. You opened the "Widow Family" group chat, which consisted of Yelena, Alexei, Melina, Natasha, and you. You quickly typed out a message:

WIDOW FAMILY 🕷️🕸️

You: Hey Nat rlly needs u all right now. Can u come by in about an hour?

Within moments, replies started to come in:

White Widow: I'll be there.

Red Guardian: Of course! I’ll bring borscht!

Mother Widow: On my way.

Feeling reassured, you then switched to the "Earth's Best Squabblers" group chat, which included all the Avengers. You typed out another message:

EARTH'S BEST SQUABBLERS 🤡🤡

You: Hey guys Nat rlly needs u rn Can u come by ASAP?

The responses were almost immediate:

Tin Can: On my way. Pepper & Morgan too

Capsicle: Be there soon.

Birdy 1: Already heading over. Laura and the kids are tagging

Green Bean: I'll be there.

Metal Arm: Be there in 20

Birdy 1's 2.0: Lena and I are on our way.

Point Break: I shall arrive promptly!

Witchy: I'm coming.

Birdy 2: Be there in a few.

Spidey Boy: Swinging over now!

You put your phone down, feeling a surge of gratitude for the people in your life. Carefully, you adjusted yourself, making sure Natasha was as comfortable as possible without waking her. You held her close, watching her sleep, knowing that soon, the people who loved her most would be there to support her.

--

When Natasha began to stir and slowly opened her eyes, you gave her a gentle smile, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you said softly. "Someone's here to see you."

She looked at you curiously, and you took her hand, leading her downstairs. As you approached the living room, the sounds of laughter and chatter grew louder. Natasha's eyes widened in surprise when she saw everyone gathered.

The room was filled with laughter and chatter. Yelena, Kate, Wanda, Peter, Lily and Cooper were huddled in one corner, engaged in animated conversation. Alexei, Steve, Tony, Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey were sharing beers and laughing loudly. Pepper, Melina, and Laura were chatting away in another corner, their voices blending into a soothing hum. Nathaniel and Morgan were playing on the floor, while Lila and Cooper were with Peter and Kate, joining in the fun.

Yelena, Kate, Wanda, and Peter were huddled in one corner, talking animatedly. Alexei, Steve, Tony, Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey were sharing beers and exchanging stories. Pepper, Melina, and Laura were chatting away, their faces lit up with smiles.

As you led Natasha into the room, everyone turned to greet her, their faces lighting up with warmth and affection. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and guided her further into the room.

Natasha looked around, her eyes softening as she took in the sight of her family and friends, all here for her. You could see the gratitude and love in her eyes.

"Hey, everyone," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Yelena rushed over, pulling her into a tight hug. "About time you woke up, sestra."

"Hey, Nat," Steve called out, raising his beer in a toast. "Good to see you."

One by one, everyone came over to greet her, sharing their love and support. The room was filled with warmth and laughter, a stark contrast to the somber mood from earlier.

As the evening went on, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Natasha perched on your lap, your arms wrapped around her protectively. She was joking around with everyone, her smile genuine and her laughter heartfelt.

At one point, she leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "Thank you."

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love. "I love you, Nat," you whispered back. "And so do they."

She looked around the room, taking in the faces of her family and friends, and nodded. "I know," she said softly. "I really do."

You held her close, feeling a sense of peace settle over both of you. In that moment, surrounded by the people who loved her most, you knew that Natasha was starting to heal. And you would be there, every step of the way.

[wntrs0ldier]

AN OFFER II · 05

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,3k warnings: mafia, language, violence (graphic descriptions), minor character death, mature themes, dark themes, angst, smut, toxic behavior, blood and injury, abuse and sexual abuse, hurt/comfort,

Taking his eyes off you, Bucky turned to Sam. “Go get Clint,” he ordered, his voice — just like his stare — lacking a particular tone; it was emotionless, perhaps with a hint of cooling anger, the seed of which got there completely naturally. Then he looked at Steve, his jaw clenched again. “Get her out of here.”

series masterlist

The exhibition, crowning the last few months of your work, was going surprisingly well for something you had initially occupied yourself with just to pass the time.

It all started with Bucky’s absence and now he was there — keeping his hand on your lower back, stroking it in a comforting manner, he made you forget about all the things that could go wrong. You watched some people admiring the artwork you’ve collected, exchanged some words, shook some hands, and Bucky didn't leave your side for a second. 

At some point, Tracy appeared right next to you, touching your shoulder to get your attention. “There’s a call from Connie. She couldn’t reach your phone, so she called the gallery. I put her through to your office.”

Your friend, whom you had fortunately dissuaded from the idea of using her leave to attend the exhibition, was currently enjoying her free time on a real vacation. It certainly would have been nice to have her around, but it wasn't worth it; besides, you had solid support coming from not only your husband, but also Steve, Sam and Clint.

“Thanks,” you said, and when Tracy left, you turned to Bucky to hand him your glass with the wine you haven’t had the chance to finish. “I'll be back in a few minutes. An hour tops,” you informed, smirking. 

The corner of Bucky’s mouth quirked up. “Sure. Got any knives I could juggle?” He raised his eyebrows. “You know, to entertain your guests.”

You sized him up, your eyes narrowed. “Do you really know how to juggle..?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged casually. “I can show you somewhere a little more private.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed, smacking his shoulder. 

Bucky’s mouth stretched into a much wider smile as your laugh reached his ears. “I’ll be waiting here,” he promised. Still grinning, you cupped his face and kissed him, then went to the stairs. 

Having hurried into your office, you got to the phone. “Connie?” you spoke with undisguised excitement. 

“Hi, babe,” Connie giggled. “How’s the exhibition? How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, the exhibition is fine…” you sighed, resting your free hand on the desktop. “I have a lot of buyers, actually. It's better than I thought.” 

“Is one of those buyers your filthy rich husband?” she asked, and if she was here, right beside you, she would probably pinch you teasingly. 

A bright smile came to your lips. “He’s banned from doing that, and is here only for support.”

“That’s really great,” when you heard that, you also heard her smile fade away. “I'm sorry I can't be there for you.”

“Oh, come on, Connie. We talked about this. You deserve a rest, especially from those uptight bankers.” 

Connie said something else, but you got distracted by the sound of the door opening. You looked over your shoulder, and to your surprise, saw Adrian. 

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

“Uh, Connie? I’ll call you back, okay?” Without waiting for your friend's answer, you hung up the phone. “Can I help you..?” you asked flatly, turning to Adrian. 

“Have you made a decision? About Paris?”

Your eyebrows rose; you secretly hoped that Adrian would eventually use his common sense, and as a result, realize how ridiculous the idea was. “I told you already. I can���t come to Paris with you.”

In a moment of weakness it crossed your mind that, perhaps, you should agree for the sake of the gallery. But Bucky was right — you couldn't sell Adrian your time; not when he was pushing the limits that way, treating you like an object he could do whatever he liked with.

“You are making a mistake. Big mistake,” he stated slowly, and just as slowly covered the space between the door and the desk.

You understood that you were just a woman — a fragile, weak woman, left alone with an offended man; the only thing in that room more fragile than you was only Adrian's pride. And yet, when he approached you, you didn't even flinch, didn’t take your stern gaze off him. 

“Are you sure, Y/N?” he questioned, giving you the last chance to change your mind. “Are you sure what you are doing? You are rejecting the opportunity of a lifetime. And it will cost you a lot. Can you afford it?”

He grabbed your forearm rapidly. Twisting it, turning your body, stiff and paralyzed with sudden panic, he pushed you, then pressed against the desk. The moment you collided with the hard surface, the air abruptly spilled out of your lungs, leaving you breathless, and the hit your chin took from crashing onto the desktop cut your bottom lip open; the rusty taste of blood settled on your tongue. 

One of Adrian's hands, which had wrapped around your forearm earlier, moved to the nape of your neck and pressed your torso down to the glass surface; his legs pinned your thighs to the edge, at the same time opening them for easier access. His other hand struggled with the fabric of your dress until it finally gave in and chose to betray you with a deep rip on the side.

“Adrian,” you grated, your breath heavy as you unsuccessfully tried to fight back, “get the fuck off me.” 

“Stand still, bitch,” he hissed, pressing your body even harder. You were losing your breath again, since your chest didn't have enough room. “And shut up.”

Struck by the sudden return of panic spreading at an alarming speed, you became numb when Adrian lifted your dress. His sickeningly cold and wet hands, touching your skin directly, without any additional layers protecting your body, turned your stomach sick. 

Until that moment, you were clinging to the hope that you could get out of it, or that Adrian would come to his senses. But now, it didn't appear that either of those things were going to happen; Adrian was going to get his way, he was going to take something from you, to break you.

Despite the shock of realizing what your fate would be, you swept your hand over the desktop to scan the area. In the process, you knocked down the phone, which Adrian considered to be continued attempts to fight, and eventually found something that, judging by its shape, was a stapler — an useless tool. A moment later, your hand felt something thin and oblong. A pen. Without much thought, you clenched it tightly in your palm and, pushed by adrenaline, blindly slammed your weapon into whatever happened to be behind you. All you knew was that it went in deep.

Adrian let out a loud, inhuman noise. The pressure of his hold loosened enough that you were able to break free. You darted to the door, and when you opened it, you ran into Bucky standing on the other side, clashing with his body. With your heart beating painfully fast, you lifted your gaze to him — your eyes still carried terror and distress, but there was a little room for relief as well.

In Bucky's case, it was different. With his forehead creased and his lips parted in devastation at what he had in front of him, he examined you closely — the ripped dress, the broken shoulder strap, the cut lip. His mouth snapped shut in a hard line, his jaw clenched so tightly that you could easily see that familiar twitch below his cheekbone, his nostrils flared. And although just a moment ago his eyes expressed so much — helplessness, fear, disbelief, disappointment — in a split second they became cold, dead. They passed you, as if you weren’t there anymore, and switched to Adrian.

Adrian looked around in a frantic search for an escape route, but the only exit from the office was blocked by you and Bucky. 

Having placed his hands on your arms, Bucky moved you carefully to the side, then made his way to Adrian. You immediately looked over your shoulder, and the rest of your body followed. 

“Hey, man, let’s talk-”

Bucky rammed into Adrian, and the kick that reached his stomach was charged with force so powerful that the man crashed into the cabinet standing against the wall. There was glass splattered everywhere — it came from the cabinet door, and from broken bottles; a few pieces cut Adrian's skin harmlessly, although it would have been better for him if one had killed him instantly. Bucky didn't wait for his target's reaction; he got on top of him, and, heedless of protests, pleas or pathetic screams, punched him in his face. Again, and again, and again.

“Stop. Please, don’t-” Adrian managed to choke out. He tried to defend himself, but was unable to block Bucky's blows, driven by tremendous power and speed. “I can pay you! I can pay you a-” 

To Bucky, his words meant nothing, his money worth nothing. What really mattered to him — what kept replaying in his head, boiling the blood in his veins, steering him to the only possible ending — was the fact that some man, no matter who he was or how much he had to offer, hurt his wife. He touched her. He touched in a way that made her too terrified to even cry. 

With each repeated punch, a little blood sprinkled out — Lancy spit and choked with it, coughing and screaming, but Bucky still didn't pay the slightest attention to it; he stopped feeling his own hand — the pain spread through his metacarpus at first, but that soon went numb — instead, he felt Adrian's bones break and crumble under his fist; he felt his nose snapping, his jaw cracking, his cheekbones collapsing. He felt only that; no shame, no regret, no remorse. Why should he, when none of these things were shown to you?

Bucky did what he had to do — he beat the life out of Adrian Lancy with his bare hands. But to Bucky, he was no Adrian, no young investor with a bright future. He was a scumbag that attacked his wife and before that, put her on a short leash. 

Breathing hard and slowly, Bucky stood up. For another brief moment he stared at the lifeless body, feeling a little less disgust. Despite the fact that instead of his face, Adrian now had a bloody, still steaming hole, he no longer evoked such disgust in Bucky.

He turned around. Blood covered his hands, especially the right one; crimson specks now decorated his face and his white shirt. You didn't feel the slightest need to run away, and if any shiver ran through your body, it was a shiver of admiration, of delight. 

You didn't know when exactly, but at some point Steve and Sam showed up; Steve stood right next to you, Sam stayed somewhere behind your back. 

Taking his eyes off you, Bucky turned to Sam. “Go get Clint,” he ordered, his voice — just like his stare — lacking a particular tone; it was emotionless, perhaps with a hint of cooling anger, the seed of which got there completely naturally. Then he looked at Steve, his jaw clenched again. “Get her out of here.”

You've lost track of time; you haven't checked it once since you and Bucky separated. Staring stubbornly, and without any purpose, at the darkness outside the bedroom window, you stood frozen, numb, wearing his t-shirt, that wrapped around you like a safe embrace.

Your skin was still aching from the almost burning water and excessive rubbing — you tried to deeply wash off Adrian’s scent and touch, but you could’ve sworn you still felt him. His smell — unpleasantly strong, hitting your nostrils aggressively — lingered in the air, and his hands, cold, sweaty, driven by evil intentions, remained on your body. A repulsive tingling plagued the places where he touched you, making you sick.

The door opened carefully, letting in some warm light from the corridor. You turned away from the window; Bucky entered the room, and then, keeping his eyes on you, came closer with a cautious step. And this time he scrutinized your figure intently.

In contrast to his shirt, there was no trace of blood on his face or hands. He washed it away along with the memory of that man, so it wouldn't clutter his mind. Instead, he knew that he would never forget that he had failed you; that he should have protected you better.

Without any words, you started unbuttoning his shirt; your fingers worked quickly and smoothly — you, too, wanted as soon as possible to get away from everything that reminded you of the events of a few hours earlier. When you were done, and the shirt tails opened, showing Bucky's tensed stomach muscles, you cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss. By instinct, he placed his hands on your hips and pressed his body against yours, his tongue slid into your mouth, and despite your lip stinging, you eagerly accepted it, meeting it with yours. You already knew the way you could wash Adrian off you.

Bucky bent his knees to lower himself a bit; he moved his hands under your ass to lift you, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He walked to the bed and sat down; Bucky, as well, was fully aware of what you needed. 

He laid down, pulling you with him — without breaking away from his lips, relishing the taste of the man who had done something so thrilling for you, to the point of intoxication, you began rubbing against his crotch. Both of you breathed heavily into each other's mouths as your core, now wet and throbbing with desire, grinded on Bucky's bulge. But it wasn't enough — you needed him inside you, immediately.

You backed away just enough to be able to unzip his pants. He raised his hips, lifting you along with them, in order to slip his pants lower. At that moment, neither of you thought about taking the time to remove all your clothes; it was only about gratification, about forgetting, about pleasure.

You rose, wrapped your hand around his engorged cock and guided it to your entrance, then sank down on it slowly, a quiet, breathy moan leaving your lips. At first, Bucky looked at you with concentration, as if making sure you could handle it without his help, and when he got the proof, he relaxed slightly. Feeling your pussy swallow more and more of his cock, he groaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, but soon returned his gaze to you. He had to — there was nothing that could draw him away from the pleasure of watching you. 

You grabbed the ends of the t-shirt you were wearing and stripped it off. Seeing your body almost in all its glory, feeling it on his own, Bucky pressed his lips together, the devotion and worship visible in his stare only deepened.

Now, it was you who had the control you so badly needed to regain; you needed to regain yourself, and that's what seemed to be the best way to do it. Bucky's dick was plunging into you with your every move, penetrating you, hitting that sweet spot just right, but it was you who was fucking him. The bliss overpowered you enough that, forgetting the previous damage, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip. Bucky kept looking at you — your face overtaken by delight, your body moving up and down, the way you were riding him flawlessly — and the view alone would have been enough to make him cum.

Lifting his torso off the mattress, Bucky sat up. Your back arched as you propped your hands somewhere behind, your hips rolling in circles. Bucky slid his tongue between your breasts up to your neck, leaving a wet trail on your skin. With his hand supporting the back of your head, his mouth traveled all over your face and jaw, dropping sloppy kisses. 

Sensing some weakness creeping into the dynamic you had set up, Bucky returned on the mattress, taking you with him. And you let him, knowing it would be worth it. 

“Take my hand,” he whispered between heavy gasps. You followed his request without a second thought; the hand that only a few hours before had brought death was now holding yours. His fingers, intertwined with yours, reminded you that he was here for you; fully consciously, voluntarily, not just to satisfy some animal needs.

Bucky's spare arm embraced your back, pressing you as tightly as possible to his body. His hips began to move fast but not violently, he was moaning softly, pumping his cock into your cunt. It was hard for you to concentrate on anything other than that delicious sensation of being filled like that — your brain was melting, making you nothing more than a body to fuck, but the same brain told you to look at Bucky. So you looked at his lips, parted, swollen, in that familiar deep shade of pink they had turned from biting, and finally decided to occupy them with yours, devouring his warm, plush mouth.

The space between you, if such a thing had any right to exist, was filled with Bucky's loud breaths and grunts, your soft whines and his name — the sweet promise that you belonged to him only.

Bucky went still, letting out an interrupted whimper. A single, strong shiver ran through his body, his seed filled you up. When his mind regained a small percentage of sobriety, he continued thrusting into you. You straightened up to the sitting position, but still held tightly to Bucky’s hand. The tension building in your stomach released — orgasm shook your body, sending it into strong spasms, throwing your head back, squeezing only a heavy exhale out of your lungs. 

Bucky looked up at you; he admired your jawline, your arched neck, the blue gemstone of the chain he gave you hanging in the middle of your collarbones, the single drop of sweat running down between your breasts. You were the most beautiful creation he had a chance to experience.

You gazed at him too, tears shimmered in your eyes, one of them dropped unexpectedly on Bucky's chest. 

He furrowed, and, gripped by a burning panic and worry looming over, sat up; one of his hands was instantly on your cheek, the other brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. “It’s okay,” Bucky said softly. Sniffling, you nodded, the tears still streaming down your cheeks. “It’s okay…” he repeated more to himself, his eyes studying your face nervously, helplessly. With his thumb, he quickly wiped off another teardrop that escaped from your eye, then leaned closer and kissed away a new one, the salty taste smeared on his lips.

“Nothing-” you sobbed, then took a deep, shuddering breath. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me,” you choke out. Bucky's jaw clenched, his eyes filled with sadness. Nothing like this has ever happened to you, and now that you were his wife, it did. On his watch. He was convinced that the blame lay with him, but he didn't admit it out loud — he wasn't going to make a victim of himself, all that mattered was you. “I shouldn't have let him-”

“No,” Bucky interrupted you strongly. He looked you in the eye. “It's not your fault, Y/N. You hear me?”

In response, you only sniffled again, dropping your gaze. “You told me something like this could happen. And I didn't listen.”

“Hey,” he said to get your attention, his voice gentle, but you didn't have the courage to bring your eyes back to his. Yet, with his hands on your cheeks, he made you look up at him. “Don’t do that. That fucker had no right to touch you even with his finger. That’s not on you.” 

You weren't sure about that — your mind wasn't in a place that would allow you to believe Bucky's assurances. The wounds were still too fresh, the memories too vivid. However, one thing you were sure of; you had washed Adrian off of you. Bucky's scent clung to your skin, but your body was also marked with his sweat, his spit, his cum.

You started crying all over again — you needed this kind of purification. Bucky got that, so he wrapped his arms around you and pressed to his chest. “You’re safe now,” he whispered, stroking your hair.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

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[vlansy]

Teacher’s Pet

Summary: You and your Professor have a little fun in her office.

Pairings: Prof!Natasha x Student!Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut… that’s all just pure smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

I can’t handle this anymore, Ms. Romanoff has been torturing me for the past hour, she keeps teasing my in front of the class, unbeknownst to my classmates of course and every time she comes by my seat she’ll whisper her dirty thoughts about me.

Which I didn’t mind of course I just wished it didn’t make me want to bend her over my desk and pleasure her right then and there.

So when the rest of the school was in the cafeteria I went out to find my dear Ms. Romanoff.

So when I found her about to enter her office I pulled her to her office door and once the door closed I pushed her against the it. I held her shoulders against the door and looked her directly in the eyes with a sadistic smile.

"You've been torturing me all morning, Professor." I looked at her up and down. "Why don't I return the favor, mhm?"

She didn't respond but I saw her gulp. Guess I surprised her with my sudden burst of confidence.

"I need a clear answer professor," I whispered ghosting my lips in hers.” Would you like me to pleasure you?"

"Y-yes," She said almost falling to her knees.

I smirked as I kissed her cheeks her ears down to her neck. She tightly squeezed my arm for support.

"Relax Love, I'll be gentle." I teased while unbuttoning her blouse.  

I heard her moan when my kisses went down to her clothed breasts.

I don’t even know how we managed to reach her office table, I just realized we were there when her back hit the table.

I helped her get up to the table and finally took off her bra.

I stared at her chest for a moment then looked at her. "You're so fucking beautiful," I said and put one of her nipples inside my mouth. I heard her muffled moans which made me even wetter.

I creased her thighs and massaged her left bosom with my other hand while the right one was still in my mouth.

"Ohhh, Y/n!" She screamed out of pleasure.

She spread her legs even more when I pressed my fingers on her clothed private.

When I was done abusing her chest with my mouth my kisses went down to her stomach. I unzipped her skirt from behind when she lifted her ass for better access.

I tossed it somewhere around her office, I didn't care where it went all I could think of was pleasuring her.

I took off the only thing keeping me from her private. 

"Y/n, wait!" She said.

I lifted my head confused.

"Why, is something wrong?" I asked.

"Someone might hear us." 

I looked at her in amusement.

"Let them hear me pleasure you then," I smirked at her.

I went back to what I was doing and spread her legs even more, I put both her legs on my shoulder for support.

I was eating her out and she was pushing my head even closer to her. All I could do was moan with her while tasting her sweet juice.

"Ahh! Fuck Milaya faster!" And I did I fastened my pace which made her moan louder.

She was cursing a bunch of Russian words and telling me to go faster and harder which made me even more aroused.

We didn't care whether anyone heard us we were just in our own world.

She moaned even louder when I entered another finger inside her.

"Ohhh! Ahhh Detka harder, baby, harder!" 

My fingers were going in and out of her as my tongue kept circling her clint.

We went on for about 30 minutes when she came into my mouth.

"Ahhh!, fuck!" She exclaimed running out of breath.

I cleaned her out with my tongue, she kept pushing my head away but I held her hand even though she was already sensitive as I continued cleaning her up.

I stood up and sat on the table beside her looking at her with a grin. She was still lying on the table.

"Better clean up, Professor you have class after this." I teased. She glared at me and smirked when an idea popped up in her head.

"Nah uh, we're going home, I'll have to get back at you." 

"W-what? You can't do that?" 

"Oh yes I can, Baby, Don't you remember I own this school?"

(Here’s a short story just for the meantime while I write the next few chapters of my wandanat series)

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a long time guys I was very busy these past few weeks but I’ll make it up to u guys just u wait ;)

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 10

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader wakes up.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of hospital care.

“So, I’m gonna make it really clear, you’re going to have your work cut out with her. She’s stubborn, a know it all, unfortunately because she does know it all, photographic memory and all that, the situations she sometimes gets herself in aren’t always great but she always and I mean always has a way out. She doesn’t eat right. Her sleep pattern is worse than a teething toddler and believe me I know” He said looking down at Nathanial in his arms, “but she is fiercely loyal, if you call her for anything, she could be having tea with a royal and she’d drop everything to save your ass or in Laura’s case so you can have a shower without a screaming child and take a nap in peace. She’ll hold you through your nightmares, be your biggest supporter and snap a guys neck if they’ve hurt you. She feels all her emotions at ten times the level we do. Sometimes that’s great, sometimes it’s really not. Now, I’m gonna ask you, don’t pursue this unless you’re sure. Please.”

“She’s our soulmate Clint, there’s no way we aren’t pursuing this.” Replied Steve.

“I know she’s your soulmate but….”

“But what?” Asked Bucky.

“She sometimes, well it’s not my place to say.”

Steve and Bucky both huffed in response. They’d been sick of those words over the last few days. When you’d gripped the bed rail and bent it right in front of them it was clear you were different in some way. Match that with carrying Pietro like you did, Steve and Bucky were sure you were like them. A super soldier.

When Helen Cho entered the room after you’d been sedated, and spoke quietly to Bruce as they set up the cradle, they didn’t miss Bruce’s whispered “accelerated healing” or the mention of having to possibly rebreak some of your bones as they’d have already have set wrong. When they asked Bruce the response was “it’s not my place to say”. The same words were uttered when Steve asked Natasha why her and Clint were her emergency contacts and next of kin.

“You know I’m sick of hearing those words.” Steve told Clint.

“You know what fine, fuck it, yes I know language in front of the baby. He’s heard worse. Natasha and Y/N are his godmothers, he probably knows the f bomb in six different languages already. Look she struggles with the whole soul mate thing.”

Bucky’s head snapped up.

“How so?” Asked Steve.

Before Clint had chance to answer you groaned from the bed, causing the three men to jump to their feet, Nathanial jostling in Clint’s arms.

“Lightsssss, bright light, bright light.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes tightly.

“Shit, I forgot, F.R.I.D.A.Y dim the lights.” Clint instructed. “Good morning you little gremlin.”

“Gremlin?” Steve asked. “Sweetheart can you hear us?”

“It’s from a movie.” Bucky answered “Don’t put it on your damn list, it’s awful. Babydoll?”

“It is not. It’s a cult piece.” Clint replied.

“Whatever. Doll, can you hear us?”

You groaned again and muttered Clint’s name. He pushed past Steve and handed him a wiggling Nathanial, squeezing your hand and stroking your face affectionately. Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey kid, I’m here, open your eyes, you’ve had us all worried. Laura’s even started knitting again, you know how she hates it, only does it to keep herself busy, and don’t get me started on Natasha. I thought we’d have to sedate her at one point.”

“Natty.” You replied as your eyes started to flicker open.

“She’s upstairs, probably already on her way down.”

Bucky huffed. He didn’t want everyone in here. He wanted to speak to you, hold you, take care of you, figure out how the hell you were here. You started to look around, still squinting, jumping when you saw you were in the Med Bay.

“Easy kid. You’re in the compound Med Bay. You've been out for three days.”

You started to fidget in the bed.

“Y/N, listen.” and he gently cupped your jaw, moving your face to look at him. “You’re gonna be OK kid, you scared the shit out of us all, but you’ll be OK. You’re in the compound. Only Banner and Cho have looked at you. OK?”

You nodded in reply, your eyes full of tears. Clint kissed your forehead.

“Pietro? Did he? Is he?”

“He’s alive. See?” Clint stood upright and pointed to the next room in the bay. You followed his pointing to see you were separated by a glass wall but sure enough there was Pietro. Wanda and Vision at his bedside. He waved weakly at you and you attempted to wave back.

“Careful sweetheart.” You glanced up at the voice, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Hi honey.”

Spotting baby Nathanial in his arms, you reached out and made a gesture for Steve to pass him to you.

“Gimme.”

“Y/N,” Clint said as he perched on the bed “really?”

“Baby, gimme please.” You looked up at Steve with puppy eyes, who realised he immediately had no defence against your sad face and he turned to Clint, not knowing what to do. You pushed out your bottom lip for added effect and looked back at Clint.

“Fine, but you’re gonna need to sit up a little. Clint replied, before gathering up some pillows.

You tried to push yourself up as much as possible and Bucky silently tried to help. Why were you ignoring them? Clint moved around to the side of the bed Bucky was at and placed a pillow under your arm, saying something about it being the best side as your drip was gone, before whispering to you.

“Maybe stop being a brat and acknowledge your soulmates.”

You shifted uneasily and glanced at Clint as he gave you a knowing look, before he gestured at Steve to come around with Nathanial.

“Hello.” You said quietly, not making eye contact.

“Babydoll” “Sweetheart.”

Bucky placed a kiss on your head as you side eyed him.

“Is this a good idea?” Steve asked as Nathanial wiggled in his arms some more. “You said yourself how unsettled he is.”

“Just watch.” Clint laid Nathanial in the crook of your arm, making sure the pillow took most the weight. Nathanial snuggled into you, taking out his pacifier to give you a drool filled grin.

“Hi baby.” You said softly. Nathanial snuggled down more and closed his eyes, gripping on to the blanket Clint had placed over him.

The three watched you fondly as Nathanial drifted off to sleep, as you stroked his face affectionately. Bucky and Steve both felt a lump form in their throat as they watched. Thoughts of what could have been and what could be filling their heads. White picket fences seemed so far away now but there was something about you, their soulmate, with a baby in her arms.

Clint slipped back discreetly from between the two and moved to the other side of the bed. Spotting Natasha and Bruce hurrying down the corridor he gestured for them to slow down and wait, nodding back at Steve and Bucky. Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky mirrored his actions in return.

“We got her back bud.”

Bucky went to speak but let out a sob instead, as tears began to run down his face. Steve pulled him into a hug. You side eyed them not really knowing what to do. Clint noticed your uncomfortableness and squeezed your hand affectionately as tears formed in your eyes. You leaned back into the pillows, shaking your head.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” You almost whispered. “I can’t be their soulmate.”

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TAGLIST

@abaker74 @animegirlgeeky @calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10 @otterlycanadian

[keyorden]

Echo Parents (5. Chase)

So. A quick recap; TJ has reasonable, loving parents, with no indication that there is any problems beyond what any kid might have with their parents, potentially marred only by over-protectiveness (reasonable) Leo and Carl have overall positive relationship's with parents, with significant issues that aren't easily overcome, and contribute to their kids issues, which lead them to identify more with friends overall. Jenna, Syd, and Flynn have abusive parents, and much of the stories they have are about dealing with that, and how friends can share the burdens. Clint, Jeremy, Heather, Micha and Keith are all examples of when the support network Can't bridge the gap (In this case, their Flynn example, Keith, was taken too soon, and they had literally no positive examples to otherwise help) So, given all of that overall. What is up with Chase's parents. Going over everything, it's....strange. In all the other examples, the parents reflect the kids beliefs and values. In Chase's case, the greatest part's of his story are about his avoidance to conflict, his lack of desires, his own communication issues, and his inability to make meaningful decisions. But it really honestly doesnt seem like Chases parent's reflect this? Like, in Route 65, Chase mentions that his mom locked herself in a room, and the dad could only "Laugh awkwardly" at the impromptu outing. Then, there is the implication that they accepted the relationship, but nothing else. It is mentioned that they punished Chase for some of his behavior as a child (Which, in his own words, was dickish), like leaving TJ to clean Duke's yard alone, and there are other minor instances of mention, but nothing that leads to a really clear or obvious picture like anyone else. They held some barbiques, did some things that annoyed younger chase, and that is that. At best, given whats in Cannon (even more with the beginning phone call and Chase's remincing in Flynn's route), you could determine them as just being....normal parents. But that doesn't feel right. Its strange, for normal parents to have that much of an opposition to filmography, of all things. Carl's not wanting an art degree is a classic complaint, but Flim? Even more, it just seems...odd. Like, Chase isn't really defined by being normal. His parents seemingly not having a large impact, positively or negatively, on anything, without note, seems off. Wrong. I have ideas, of course, on things they could've been presented as. If his parents were awkward, never commuting to condemning or helping him after he came out, or even before not approving of anything he did, yet not outright rejecting him like with Sydney, that could fit Or, if Chase Felt like he had a normal childhood, and then realized he hadn't spoken to his parents in YEARS, that would also be a fitting commentary. Or if his parent's notably had a rocky relationship, more if they wanted different things out of Chase. Or even if they didn't want to have Chase at all! if they were somewhat openly resentful of being stuck together and having a child, yet not separating, and just not talking about it, that could also fit for him. Not like that is an exhaustive list, but what we do know of the Hunters is just so lacking and limp. Overall I guess I just feel like Chases parents are one of the few kind of dropped parts of Echo. Or, at least, something that wasn't handled with the kind of detail I think they really could've. Just, an untapped goldmine for things to do or talk about.

[scarlettjohanssones]

“chef movie au aka chef/cook and server/front of house manager au”

clint is the chef and natasha is the hostess/front of house manager/manager (aka chef the movie)

i saw someone post this somewhere (idk where maybe twitter?) “Somewhere out there, a server is pushing a plate back into the expo window, saying the order was wrong. The line cook on that station knows he cooked it right and is calling her a fucking idiot for ringing it in wrong. The server flips him off and goes back into the dining room. Later, the cook drops a togo box with food in it in front of where the server is rolling silverware. She forgives his silent apology, and offers to buy him a shift drink. He accepts. A few years later, they are engaged”

*these are just our ideas to help you guys write them if you want! put your own spin to them! we would love love love to read them and give you all the support! and feel free to leave me, or Alice, a message or an ask about your au ideas, if you have any, or to send us your work! tag us (@scarlettjohanssones & @alicebecketts) and use our tag #clintnAUt*

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Magic and Madness - Chapter Four

It is the Green-Eyed Monster Which Doth Mock the Meat it Feeds On.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> Tony Stark x Stephen Strange

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> Tony acts like Tony, and Stephen gets caught out.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 3335

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (E) CW: flirting with someone else, ED mentions (Nat), guilt, alcoholism, internalised homophobia. And smut. All the smut. All the time.

𝐀/𝐍 -> A Companion Piece to Multitudes, running relatively adjacent as of chapter thirteen (here), exploring the relationship of Tony Stark and Stephen Strange. This chapter corresponds to Multitudes chapter fifteen. Don't worry, the next chapter picks up... Oh, about two hours after this one ends. ;)

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Dividers come from yours truly.

<- Previous Chapter (3/46) Next Chapter (5/46) ->

“Doctor Banner requests everyone’s attendance as a show of support and in order to discuss a development in Ms. Romanoff’s treatment. Please present for dinner thirty minutes earlier than usual in order to have a frank conversation regarding unacceptable permissiveness of problematic behaviour.”

Tony groaned, slinging an arm over his eyes. “Friday, I created you. I’m pretty certain I give the orders around here.”

“Yeah you do,” I muttered with a hum, nuzzling closer to his throat, and he laughed in shock, lips brushing my hair.

“Stephen Strange, how uncouth.”

I snorted tiredly, kissing the pulse thrumming beneath my mouth. “Shhh… It’s time to sleep, Stark.”

His fingers caressed my spine lightly, still bare, leaving a line of heat in his wake. “We probably shouldn’t. It sounds serious.”

“Yeah,” I sighed reluctantly, but found myself shuffling closer despite myself.

“Maybe we should cook something… It would be nice to show we care, right?”

We. We. We.

Please never stop saying that.

“I… Clint once gave me some of his goulash. Told me I’d know when to use it. I think that time is now,” I murmured against his skin, arm cinching tighter around his waist.

I’m scared to leave this paradise we have made. I know what we are outside of this bed, and I can’t do that. Not yet. Not now. Please.

“… I have already cooked this week. Think you can do your Sparkles stuff and take me to In-N-Out? Everybody loves cheeseburgers, right? … Man, I’d kill for a cheeseburger right now.”

I laughed, intrepid fingers trailing the hills and valleys of his ribcage. “You got it. …We have time, though, right?”

“What did you have in mind, sweetheart?” he purred, twitching closer.

Sweetheart.

I snorted, shaking my head fondly. “Sleep?” His face fell despite himself, and I grinned wickedly. “Though I do recall you essentially begging that I frequent the space between your legs far more often…”

“That. I choose that. Please.”

“Four hours… .015 BAC reduction per hour since imbibing… Nope. You’re sitting around… 0.14.”

“You short-changed me?” he muttered, and I winced, but he simply snorted. “Keep it .20 or over, and I don’t care. I can drink the difference.”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “You’re missing the key point here. I’m spending absolutely no time between your legs when you’re legally intoxicated.”

He sighed, but laced his fingers in mine, pressing them to his forehead as his hips twitched. “Get it done, Sparkles.”

As much as he found very evident relief in my ministrations – or, as he so delightfully and filthily phrased it as his back arched and he jerked desperately, the fact that I could apparently ‘suck that cock like a goddamn pro’ – his reprieve was undeniable when I carefully inched his blood alcohol back up.

Hate. Wrong. No.

"Hi, can I have... I don’t know. Some. Thirty? Let’s say thirty. Thirty cheeseburgers. To go.”

“… You’re Tony Stark. You’re Iron Man. At In-N-Out Burger. Iron Man is at In-N-Out Burger.”

I rolled my eyes with a sigh, resisting the urge to snarl at the girl barely out of teenagehood and trailing her gaze across the individual I was quickly coming to consider mine, despite how ill-advised that may be.

“If I give you an autograph, can I get the burgers faster?” he purred, leaning forward on the counter as he pushed the sunglasses up his forehead to meet her eye, and she blushed.

“I-I-I’d love that! Ohmigosh, thank you!” she giggled, twisting her hair around her finger.

…Seriously?

He paid and pulled a pen from his pocket, the cap balanced between his teeth as he scrawled his name at the bottom of the receipt, presenting it with a flourish. “For you… Lola,” he added, grinning as his eyes flicked to her name badge, and she turned a deeper crimson as I fought the temptation to kill everyone in the room and then myself.

Pacifist. I’m a pacifist. We’re not even dating, right? And he’s single. To the outside world, he’s single. And straight. And definitely not mine. Nope. Not mine.

… Damn it all, I wish he was mine.

My hands shook as I formed the portal in the alley, taking us directly to the dining room. Tony only raised an eyebrow before I started to move again, muttering about picking something up from the Sanctum.

“… I’ll be right back. I brought burgers.”

He ducked through behind me before I could close the damned thing, raising an eyebrow. “Doctor Strange, are you trying to avoid me?”

“I’m picking up goulash,” I muttered, turning away petulantly to root through my poorly stocked freezer – but his hand clamped around my wrist, pulling me back to his chest.

“No no, sweet boy. You tried to drop me off first, rather than steal a few extra minutes with me. I’m not stupid.” Really? Feels like it. “What’s going on?”

I growled as I tugged back, feeling for all the world like a dramatic child, but unable to reign in my annoyance and jealousy. “Nothing. I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me anything, right? So forget it.”

He blinked in surprise, fingers releasing me, and I stepped back. “… Is… Is this about the girl?” My jaw rolled in anger, and he laughed, moving toward me. “Stephen, I-”

“No. You don’t have to explain yourself, Stark. I understand completely.”

I’m your dirty, shameful secret.

“You’re sexy when you’re jealous,” he purred, inching nearer.

“Fuck you.”

“Even sexier when you’re mad.” My back bumped the counter, and his hands found the surface either side of me as he smirked. “Stephen, I am, very publicly, not… I mean, to the world, I like girls. But outside of the public eye… Well, I like you. Is that not enough? I flirted with her to get us out of there faster. To get you here, faster. To be with you, you goddamn idiot.”

Startled, I stammered wordlessly, then scowled. “That would mean more if you weren’t intoxicated, Stark.”

“What do I get if I let you make me entirely sober?” he murmured, lips tracing the curve of my throat. “I’d say it all again without a drop in my system.”

Anything. Everything. I’d do anything to hear you tell me you care about me without that stuff inside you.

“Anything,” I whispered, head falling back, before I flushed with panic. “I-I mean, I…”

“Anything, huh?” he snorted, hands finding my backside to slide me onto the counter, positioning himself between my thighs. “Well, that is incredibly tempting.” He was only a few inches shorter than I was, and almost definitely stronger, but I was still impressed – and aroused – by how easily he lifted me.

I wonder if he could throw me. Ideally onto a bed.

“…Fine.”

“Wh- huh?” I stammered, distracted by my own train of thought. Please break me. I’ll die a happy man.

“Sober me up, and I’ll tell you how much you mean to me. Or I’ll sob like a child – one of those two things,” he snorted, shaking his head. I hesitated, and he rolled his eyes, pressing my hand to his forehead.

“I’m waiting, Strange.”

I was getting far too adept at cleansing his system, and he winced as he blinked his eyes open.

“… I regret every choice that led me to this point… E-except you,” he added, glancing at me as his face reddened. “… I… You mean a lot to me, Stephen. A real lot, and certainly more than a girl in a fast-food restaurant. Or any restaurant – any… Any girl, Stephen. Dear God, this is hard. Is it always this hard? I miss being drunk,” he muttered, shaking his head firmly. “Stephen Strange, you maddening bastard, I can definitely see myself falling in love with you, okay? Okay. Awesome. Whiskey?”

I blinked in surprise as he moved away, hands shaking as he scoured my cupboards desperately. “Uh… You know I can…”

“That’s not exactly fair of me, is it?” he quipped, jaw tight. “Do you have any alcohol? How do you not have any alcohol?”

“There’s beer in the refrigerator, but-”

He raided the fridge desperately, using the metal edge around his wrist to pop the top and taking a long drink.

… Jesus, Stark. It’s that bad?

… Did he custom-make a bracelet for opening bottles? He’s… What a devastating waste of talent.

“Tony, can you just stop for a second?” I laughed hollowly, finally sliding from the counter to tug him closer by his shirt. “Just one kiss. One sober kiss?”

He hesitated briefly, chest trembling under my fingertips before his mouth met mine with a growl and a desperate groan. “I don’t have to see myself falling in love with you, Tony,” I breathed as we drew apart, my arms wrapping tightly around him to press my chin to his hair. “I am falling in love with you. My poor, sweet boy. I just want to help you.”

He sobbed at last, fingers clenching in the back of my shirt, and I held him harder. “I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m not… I… I’m not strong enough. Please, Stephen. Please.”

“I know, honey. It’s okay. I’ve got you – we’ve got this, okay? Together, I promise. I’ll always be here, no matter how long it takes, do you hear me?”

He wept freely against my chest as his knees gave way, and I let him shift to the floor, pulling him onto my lap and humming softly as I rocked his shaking body.

“… I hate this.”

“I know, Tony.”

“I don’t want to ask.”

I sighed, closing my eyes against my own pain as I pressed my lips to his forehead, the incantation falling easily. “You don’t have to, my dearest.”

He let out a soft whimper of relief, and I expected him to immediately scamper away – but he only curled closer, sniffling pitifully. “…. I… I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay,” I murmured, hands still smoothing his back lightly.

“… Did you mean it?”

“Without a doubt.”

“… How?”

I drew back in surprise, and he flinched, red, tearstained face ducking. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“How can you… I mean, look at me, Stephen. I’m not exactly what you… What people grow up dreaming about,” he muttered, waving a hand at himself tiredly, and I snorted.

“You’re all I’ve dreamt about for longer than I’d care to admit, Stark,” I admitted quietly, fingers entwining with his. “I know everything you’ve ever done, and you’re still the one I want.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“No, I’m a magician with numb legs, and we’re late to dinner. Now get off me, Stark. The sooner this is over, the sooner I finally get to wake up next to you.”

He smirked as he got to his feet, offering me his hand with a courteous bow.

I didn’t realise it had gotten so bad again, I reflected, wincing, Tony’s hand tracing gentle but distracting patterns on my knee.

Bruce had given us a quick rundown – and snorted at the fact that every single person, without fail or exception, had brought food to a meeting about someone who famously struggled to eat. We sat chagrined around the table, my own thoughts recalling helping her avoid Tony’s macaroni and cheese. I couldn’t bring myself to feel guilty – her distress and terror seemed profoundly genuine – but I knew I should have encouraged her to talk to someone.

I was distracted. Again. Thinking about him. …Am I terrible person? A terrible friend?

“Essentially, if you see something, say something,” Bruce finished, glancing around to a chorus of nods and murmurs of regret.

It seems I’m not the only one who let her get away with things she perhaps shouldn’t have.

“Hey, guys.”

My gaze shot up, fixing on the red band loose on her bony wrist as she waved, and I flinched.

A heavy, awkward silence followed, and Tony picked up his glass as he cleared his throat. At least he’s taking his time with this one… It’s still only his first. That’s an improvement, right?

“Eat a goddamn cheeseburger, Nat,” he snorted, taking a sip, and I winced in horror, along with Clint and around half of the others gathered – but she only laughed.

“Actually, I’d love one, if that’s a genuine offer.”

Oh, Natasha. I’m so proud of you.

There was a flurry of movement, serving dishes uncovered, a veritable feast spread across the table, and Tony picked up an individually-wrapped burger with a relish. “This lot have been cooking a bunch of what they like to call ‘real food’, but I went to In-N-Out. I cooked yesterday; that’s me done for the next month, at least.”

Yeah, that’s the exact reason you got fast food…

My hand traced his thigh, and he swallowed dryly, jaw twitching.

Wincing, I went to move away, concerned I’d accidentally angered him – but he grasped my fingers with his, keeping me exactly where I was, and I had to bite back a smile.

She rounded the table to sit beside him with a grin, reaching for a burger of her own.

I watched for a heartbeat, impressed, until Nick began to talk to her about her restricted duties until she was able to return to missions – level three or above – and I faded fully into the feeling of Tony’s thumb lightly caressing the back of my hand.

… Yeah. I’m definitely falling in love with him. Damn.

… I wonder how long I should wait before just giving in and letting him have his way with me. And how much I can reduce that without seeming too desperate.

Can it be yesterday?

No… I should definitely wait until he’s sober.

Though he was sober earlier, right? Maybe we can do that again.

Or should be sober-sober? Not just… Not actively inebriated?

Would it be right to sleep with him while he still harbours so much self-hatred?

... Can I stop myself?

Nat’s laugh jarred me from my thoughts, and I reluctantly tried a mouthful of the goulash I had no memory of serving myself. …I’ll be the first to admit it, this really is good. Well done, Clint.

He met my eyes with gracious nod, and I smiled softly.

Natasha snorted as I dropped my gaze one more. “You’re really selling it, Nick,” she muttered, before pausing and groaning. “Okay, I get it. I’d make a trip for this – and, as we all know… I don’t eat.”

Tony spluttered into his drink, and I moved instinctively, fingers shifting from his to the space between his shoulder blades, determinedly keeping my eyes on my bowl.

My thoughts would, without a doubt, be all over my face right now. Definitely better not to look at him. As much as I really, really want to.

Natasha and Clint were amongst the first to leave, though nobody complained, given her valiant attempt at eating. Bruce watched them with a fond smile before he adjourned shortly after, followed by Wanda and Vision, Shuri and T’Challa, Steven, Nick…

But Thor just kept eating, making it difficult – impossible – for Tony and I to leave together, and I stood with a reluctant sigh. “I… Suppose I should head back to the Sanctum,” I muttered, and the engineer nodded impassively.

“Goodnight, Doctor Strange.”

“Farewell, Stephen.”

The portal opened, and I stepped through reluctantly, sighing again as I found myself alone in my room and pulling my shirt over my head. “I was profoundly looking forward to waking up with him,” I muttered under my breath, tugging my phone from my slacks as it beeped.

I’m guessing I’ll see you shortly. On my way up now. Wear something considerably more comfortable… And easier to take off. - T x

I swallowed dryly, quickly tugging on some sweatpants I’d all but forgotten I owned, and a hoodie hanging at the back of my closet being pulled over my bare chest, hands shaking with anticipation as I made a new portal. “Why didn’t I think about the fact that I can make more than one?” I sighed, shaking my head as I stepped through to his empty bedroom. “Stark and his… His…”

“‘My’ what, Stephen? I implore you to finish that sentence.”

I whirled around to find him watching me with a smirk, eyebrow raising as he took in my appearance. “Your damn hands on me making my mind go blank,” I snapped, but he just bit his lip thoughtfully as he moved closer.

“I wondered where that had gotten to.”

I glanced down in surprise as he inclined his head, blushing furiously.

“I-I found it… In the gym. I didn’t know it was yours.”

“You didn’t know the hoodie that says Stark Industries across the chest in big letters belonged to Tony Stark?” he quipped, eyebrow arching dramatically. “And you, somehow, are a surgeon and wizard?”

Plus it smelled like you, but let’s not mention that.

“I, uh… I mean, there’s a few around here…”

“I’m pretty sure you figured it out the second you buried your face in it. Something tells me you know exactly what kind of cologne I use.”

My mouth worked wordlessly, mortified at the memory of doing exactly that, and I felt my cheeks turn crimson. “Were you spying on me?”

He snorted, shaking his head proudly. “Nope. Actually, I had no idea. I took a shot, and it paid off. You did, didn’t you? Damn, Strange. This thing went missing weeks ago. How long have you been sweet on me?”

Longer than I’m going to admit, you cocky asshole.

“Look, I… Shut up,” I floundered, making him chuckle, his fingers wrapping around the base of my neck.

“Sober me up – somewhat, at least – and then do me a favour, and take off everything except my hoodie.”

My fingertips pressed eagerly to his forehead, watching in delight as his eyes cleared and he stepped back, waving his hand pointedly.

“Sober and waiting, baby. Let’s go. Pants off.”

Baby. Baby baby baby baby baby baby I should not love that as much as I do, holy-

“Mr. Stark, anyone would think you only want me for my body,” I teased, sitting on the edge of the bed to slide off my sweatpants.

“Oh, I want every part of you, love. Body and mind.” I gulped and shivered, and he hummed thoughtfully, raising a brow. “… I don’t feel… Doctor Strange, did you take advantage of my vague request and make me far below .08?”

“You’ll be entirely sober in… Two hours,” I replied, grinning cheekily. “You know. Just in case.”

“Stephen, I’m shocked. Is this your way of telling me you’d like to go all the way?”

I felt my cheeks flame, and I shrugged softly. “It’s my way of telling you that I’m not necessarily opposed to the idea…”

He swallowed dryly, curling the light tremble of his fingers into tight fists. “… I have to be entirely sober?”

“Ideally.”

“How ‘ideally’?”

I rolled my eyes, reclining onto my elbows, shivering with delight as his gaze trailed along my legs slowly. “Yes, Tony. You have to be entirely sober if you want to… If we… That is…”

He smirked as he stalked closer, hands finding the sheets either side of my shoulders as his body weight pinned me. “You’re flailing, sweetheart. You can say fuck, you know.”

“You have to be entirely sober to fuck me,” I quipped, and he groaned as his mouth found mine.

“I guess you’ll have to find a good way to pass the next two hours then, huh? I’ll need the distraction.”

“Just think about that promise you made.”

“Promise?” he prompted, brow furrowed, and I brushed my lips against his lightly.

“Didn’t you say something about ravaging me?”

He stuttered out an indecipherable noise as his hands found my wrists, pinning my hands over my head as my legs wrapped around his waist. “Baby boy, I am going to destroy you.” Dear. God. Please.

[rickktish]

Some unsolicited unpopular marvel opinions:

Loki was 100% responsible for destroying every bit of trust Thor ever had in him and if the fandom could get over making Loki their uwu baby they'd be able to recognize that Thor deserved better. Loki gets no rights for having daddy issues, actually; by the time you’re an adult, you are responsible for your own shitty behavior.

Tony was actually, genuinely wrong to support the Accords and the weight of his teammates' "betrayal" should not in fact be more highly valued than the actually immoral choice he was supporting

honestly maybe the entire fandom just has a betrayal kink? like i know we all grew up when those horrendous "all their friends betrayed them and now they've gone and found new friends in a crossover universe who are better in every way" fics were so popular on fanfiction.net but like. those weren't good fics. and their revenge plots weren't satisfying. and also they were always out of character. and just because you saw a chance to fulfill all your betrayal drama fantasies because of how many people sided with Cap doesn't make Tony's choice the right one, it just means you weren't paying attention to the political intrigue because you cared more about "oh no! Tony's parents were killed by a guy who's inevitably going to get a "redemption" arc (insofar as you need redemption after being brainwashed???) and Awful Steve cares more about his best friend from the War than Tony's Feelings! How Dare Awful Steve do that?"

Hawkeye's life is (on the comics side of things, which I know many of us draw on when we need to flesh things out) canonically sadder than Tony Stark's and none of y'all were ready to deal with that, so you had to make your uwu baby's life harder to make him more important. Which is fine, I do it when I'm in the mood to write sadfic too, but like. Clint was right there. He already existed. You didn't need to give his backstory to Tony so many times.

Also Thor's life (in mcu canon, right there, in front of your face) is canonically sadder than Tony Stark's and y'all completely ignore him so. You're missing out focusing on the ambiguous daddy issues instead of the victim of both parental and sibling abuse who watched his entire culture be destroyed. Just saying.

on the one hand, sibling fics are fun. on the other hand, anyone tagging "loki is a good sibling" needs to acknowledge that they're writing a wholeass au which does not exist after the first Thor movie. Loki is explicitly and intentionally written as a bad sibling in every movie. To be fair, Thor is explicitly and intentionally written as an infuriating sibling, but that doesn't change the fact that Loki is worse.

Loki got a redemption arc because he was popular, not because he had good or meaningful points or because he was "always supposed to be redeemed." I just need you to know that.

It's nice that Tony got to have a Moment at the end of End Game, but he didn't deserve it. Both in the "he wasn't good enough to earn that kind of moment" and "he didn't acknowledge anything he had done that was bad enough to deserve that kind of end" kind of way. Both are simultaneously true. There are generally three types of arcs that end in a heroic sacrifice, and they are the Mentor, the Paragon, and the Redeemed. Tony was an insufficient mentor to Spider-man to achieve Heroic Sacrifice levels, Captain America was the Paragon, and Loki would have been the Redeemed except that Thanos killed him in the last movie. Tony Stark was, unfortunately, a Mid arc at best, and did not earn the kind of payoff necessary to have gotten the heroic sacrifice.

[blueandbetaraptors]

Got this idea from someone, I tagged them at the bottom of the story, thanks for letting me write it!

It was a bright and sunny afternoon. Ned and Peter were walking back from school to the tower. Peter was sharing his personal experience from when the vulture tried to kill him.

“I tell you Ned, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared, at first I thought he was just trying to hit me with his metal wings. I joked that he missed. Then he gave me this evil look and was like “I just needed to distract you” and I see him grab his wing hoverboard thingy and he shot off and the ceiling started to collapse!”

“Wow dude, that’s freaky. I mean, you probably would have been less stuck if Mr.Stark hadn’t taken your suit.”

“Yea but I don’t really wanna tell him, cause then I’m worried I’ll make him feel bad.” Pete said as they walked into the front doors.

“How did you get out?”

“Well I cried, I was definitely panicked, but I forced myself to push the rubble off my back and crawl out… and that’s how I almost died!

“excuse me?” Tony said, he suddenly stops his conversation with Steve and Bruce.

Pete and Ned stop in their tracts when they suddenly see Tony, Steve and Bruce gathered around the elevators when Tony caught the tail end of the conversation.

“who and where?” Steve adds, makeing himself look tall, a face of a man who wants justice served.

Bruce looks at Peter, “No one’s going to get away with that one, need me to send the other guy?” A hint of green starts to show on his neck.

Suddenly a large sound comes from up above as Clint comes down from the vents,” I can take care of them.” As he lands on his feet.

Suddenly Peter and Ned are in front of 4 of the avengers, all who look bent on stopping the person that apparently almost killed Peter.

“oh, hey guys, i was just telling Ned about the time a building fell on me. It’s all good now. Yall don’t have to do anything.” Peter, confused responded as he rubbed the back of his neck, Ned by his side, his mouth slightly agape like a fish.

“ Yup! Buts it’s cool now. Like Peter said.” Ned recovers and tries to help Pete calm the avengers down.

Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Clint, “WHAT?” The foursome yell in unison

“Fri- get me info on this!”

“Are you hurt”

“When did this happen.”

“Son, who did this to you?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell anyone.”

“Language!”

“Shut it Steve”

Suddenly Peter is getting overwhelmed by all the talking that Ned grabs him and pulls him away while the avengers start talking over each other not realizing that Peter and Ned left to go upstairs. However, Nat stops them.

“Ok, I heard the commotion. Something about you almost dying, someone not telling us that a building nearly crushed them… care to explain?” She folds her arms, giving a ‘don’t try to fake it’ expression.

“It’s not a big deal now Nat. I found the guys who were stealing the alien weapons and I tried to call Mr.Stark but he was busy with the move, but I didn’t have my suit cause Mr.Stark told me I don’t need it if I’m gonna be reckless. Well I found out it was Liz’s dad and I went to confront him and he was talking he was just buying time for his wing thing to come and get him loose and then he circled around me, I thought he missed but he was just going for the support systems and he got away right as the building collapsed on me.. a..and I was scared but I know I had to be strong and I survived.” Pete kinda said it in a rush, and then realized that the whole team, was listening in.

Peter watched as expressions turn from concern and anger to solemn, and even some guilt faces, Clint literally punches Tony’s arm.

“Hey! What was that for Legolas?” Tony asks as he rubs his arm.

“That’s for almost getting Peter killed by taking his suit.”

“Guys seriously, it’s not a big deal, i survived and I learned from my mistakes.” Pete tried to explain, trying to calm the nerves of everyone.

“Peter, gosh, this world is too good for you. Look, I was wrong for taking your suit, just with what happened with the ferry, i thought you were getting to gun ho and I needed to slow yourself before you killed yourself.” Tony signed and ran his hand through his head.

After sitting down and the avengers learning more of Peter’s experience with the vulture, they all gained a new respect for their teammate and also thanked Ned for helping him.

@irondadspiderson4evr

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

Friends! Countrypeople! Townies! The farm witch community has gathered together again to bring a selection of favorites old and new for your reading pleasure.

Check out these fics, leave the authors some love, and enjoy your days in the ways that make you happiest.

==========

London, Love, and All it Entails (londonspirit) “Patrick and David’s long term, long distance love affair. Someone mentioned GOGO (Getting Over Getting Older) and this one came to mind: two people are destined to be together but they first have lots to do before they are both ready. I find it both comforting and inspiring.” 

Noble Beloved (AWorldOfDreams/@a-noble-dragon) “I love this story so much! The entire Dracotine series to be honest. It’s such a unique spin on our favorite boys and their romance. The longing is palpable. The sexy times are hot as hell. And, yes, Patrick is a dragon—a perfect, snippy, numbers guy of a dragon. 💙🐉🖤”

My misspent youth and my slow decline (@stereopticons) “Only 800 words but it hurts so good. Patrick, David, Stevie, and Alexis each get a devastating moment that ends on such a high. Loved this.”

People like that are the only people here (@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3) “Warm yet complex Brewer family vibes, a gigantic treehouse, and Patrick coming to terms with his past at Thanksgiving. Plus the Roses! Doing Rose things! It’s a fic that helped me see how Patrick developed the flawed communication style he’s perfected and how sublime David is as a supportive partner (housewarming not included).”

Shot glass of tears (@blackandwhiteandrose) “There's just so much good stuff packed in a short fic. David in NYC is a whole mood but the way he feels things and even changes over this little bit of time is crazy. it's sad but it's not. I love that it ends knowing right where they'll pick up in Schitt's Creek.” 

Too fast (@grapehyasynth) “I come back to this one all the time. David worrying about this date being wrong for him (mini-golf! who would think David would mesh well with mini-golf!) but realizing how much Patrick is trying, how hot he thinks Patrick is, and relaxing into it and letting himself be charmed while still agonizing over making sure he isn't messing things up with Patrick is so lovely.” 

The touch of your hand makes my pulse react (pandorasdaydream) “This new RPF manages to create a vivid world where Dan and Noah are together and it's a world with both love and tenderness but also melancholy and jealousy. Highly recommend if you were one of those fans who did a side eye at Dan showing up drunk and enamored at Noah's London show.”

True Blue series (ayes)" An inventive, sweet & hot early-relationship AU in which David’s escape with Roland’s truck after the events of S1 ends with an encounter with friendly and generous goat farmer Clint Brewer (and his family) instead of the cranky Mennonites…. So David meets Patrick even before he’s worked at the Blouse Barn. The story includes hilarious appearances by the Roses and Stevie, is told from David’s (very anxious) PoV, and is as insightful & funny & satisfying as we all deserve. The series comes in two parts; both are worth devouring!" 

Wild and Wooded (@lisamc-21) “This is everything I want in a non angsty AU fic. They meet, tease and banter, find a way to meet again, click boom, and a happy ending. Patrick is so earnest and wears his heart on his sleeve, not to mention those heart eyes. David knows that Patrick has something that he has never encountered before. He wants it, but history has him doubting. Great dialog, great intimate scenes, lovely story.”

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

A Look Out On Forever

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NC-17 18+

Warnings: so much tooth rotting fluff, camping (or glamping truthfully) fun, domestic bliss, smutty good times, oral (female receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, this is just so cute 

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Notes: Welp another little archived fic for you guys. This was orginally suppose to be a kinktober fic for sleepy sex but I decided to shelf it after writing what was posted. I thought this would be a good very cute, fluffy, fun and smutty fic to share. Plus who doesn’t love a cute engagement fic. Thank you to @clint-aww-no-barton​ as always. Thank you all for your continued support. I hope the spark for writing comes back soon so I can write new things for all of you. I have one more archived fic coming and it’s a heart shattering fic you will need tissues for so linger in this one as long as you can. 

ao3 link

  The world opened up in front of you in the most breathtaking view. Snow capped mountains and the greenery of trees mixed together. The clouds seemed to play with the peaks, dancing along them. The sun was currently hiding but it still held it’s place high in the sky. You had made perfect time. A gentle hand rubbed up your back, seconds after you placed your backpack by your feet. You looked up, seeing Jack looking out at the view as well.

  “It’s beautiful,” you spoke so softly, the words seeming to disappear right off your lips.

  “It truly is. We made it just in time for it to be our view for lunch.”

  Jack spoke and you broke into a small smile looking back up at him, gazing into his eyes. He turned fully as his other hand cupped your right cheek, and he brushed his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss but you could feel the hunger behind it all the same. You smiled up at him, sighing at the contentment you felt in this moment.

  You and Jack had been together for three years now, and in celebration you decided to go camping. You had made a list early on, when you knew Jack was it for you, of activities you wanted to do with him. When he took some time off from Statesmam and asked what you wanted to do, camping had been the first thing out of your mouth. Although Jack’s idea of camping was a bit different than yours. He had insisted on bringing his RV and after bickering with him for days you let the man win.

  “Let’s sit and eat,” Jack spoke, before his hands were gone and he was pulling his own backpack off.

  You pulled a blanket from your pack and spread it out over the rocks, far enough from the cliff edge to be comfortable, but the view still perfect. You and Jack had split the load, and you both pulled things out until you had a full spread in front of you. The two of you ate your sandwiches in blissful silence, just taking in the world around you.

After finishing lunch, the two of you fell into easy conversation, moving closer to each other. He made you laugh and every single time you looked into his eyes, you could see the love that shone in them. He gave you butterflies, just as he always had. You let your eyes move back out over the ledge, noting the sun was slowly starting to move down behind the mountains.

  “We should probably get back while we have plenty of light.”

  Your voice held a sigh, not wanting to leave. You stood and so did Jack, gathering your things up.

  “Hang on darlin’,” Jack spoke and you turned to him.

  He was looking at you and the look on his face made your stomach clench.

  “Jack what’s wrong?”

  “I…I hadn’t completely decided to do this until we came up here and I saw the look on your face. I knew then that I had to do it now.”

  “Jack?” You stared, confused, as you watched him.

  The man fell to one knee in front of you and your heart stopped. Your hand went up to your mouth muffling your gasp.

  “I knew the second I laid my eyes on you, that you were it for me. It took a lot for me to work everything out, after what happened in my past, but I knew without a doubt you were the answer to everything. I love you more than words could ever express, and I wish you would do me the honor of marrying this ol’ cowboy.”

  “Jack Daniels…I want nothing more in the world,” your words choked up as the tears started, and a smile so wide it could have broken your face spread over your lips.

  Jack lit up at your answer, quickly slipped the beautiful ring he had been holding onto your finger. Your brought your hand up to look it over. It wasn’t anything massive, just a simple diamond on a silver band. It was perfect. This moment was perfect. Jack stood and you watched him, before you all but threw yourself at him and the two of you kissed deeply. Then Jack had your feet off the ground and spinning you in a quick circle. You let out a giggle, before your feet landed back on the rock under you.

  “Let’s head back fiancé,” Jack smiled big and you knew that would be your new pet name until he could officially call you wife.

  You were perfectly okay with that. He took your hand, after slipping on your backpacks, and you started back down the trail to the RV.

  The sun had painted the sky such beautiful colors, that you and Jack couldn’t stop from finding another small clearing, to see another version of the view you had just left. It was so beautiful but you couldn’t linger long. The two of you made it back to the RV with just a bit of light left in the sky.

  Jack opened the door for you and you stepped inside, taking in the coolness of the small area. It wasn’t massive, just big enough for a bed, a tiny bathroom, a kitchen and a small table that folded up. It was perfect for the two of you though. You slipped your backpack off, feeling the exhaustion hit you suddenly.

  “I’m going to go shower.”

  “Alright darlin’,” Jack kissed your forehead and let you go.

  After the two of you had quick showers, you crawled into bed with heavy eyes. Jack came after you, crawling over you, his lips brushing over yours. At first it was a soft kiss but then Jack deepened it, his hips brushed against yours. You let out a sigh against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck with lazy arms. After awhile he finally pulled away, and you were met with lust blown eyes.

  “Jack how do you even have it in you to do this?” You laughed with a horse voice.

  “It’s you darlin’. The effect you have on me. Plus, we need to celebrate.”

  “I’m so tired,” you whined softly even though you could feel that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach.

  “I am too darlin’ but we can have a little quicky can’t we?”

  The pout he gave you made you giggle, and shake your head, but he already knew he was going to win this.

  “Alright fine, fine.”

  He did a small victory shimmy that made you throw your head back laughing. When your eyes fluttered back open slightly, you were met with that look that sent butterflies through your stomach. Jack’s head dipped and his lips fell to your neck. Gentle kisses trailed down your body, clothes being discarded as he went. Until he settled between your legs. He looks so relaxed as he dipped his head and sent you spinning.

He knew how to use his mouth and within seconds he had you moaning, head back and your fingers threaded through his brown locks. Then you pulled, signaling him to stop before he is back up your body, taking another path back to your lips. When they fall to yours, you taste yourself there and moan, the feeling of sinking into the mattress washing over you.

  Jack’s clothes are gone between kisses and then he entered you. He thrusted much faster and harder than you thought he would and flipped you over. He positioned you flat on your stomach, the blanket under you brushing deliciously on your clit, as he fucks you from behind.

  “Jack I’m close,” you whimper out, turning your head.

  “Just a little longer angel,” he groans and his thrusts become sloppy.

  He brings you up against his chest as he keeps going, one arm holding you up and the other snaking around to rub at your clit.

  “Cum with me angel,” his voice is deep and gruff in your ear and you fall apart.

  The world disappears and nothing else is left but you and Jack. He keeps going, working you both through your highs, only stilling long enough to empty himself inside of you. He says sweet things in your ear, and you come down sleepily sated. He’s gentle as he removes himself and lays you back down.

  “Let me get something to clean you up with darlin’. Stay awake just a little longer for me,” his speaks to you in a hushed tone, a kiss pressed to your temple before he’s gone.

  He returns to find you hanging on to the waking world by a thread. He’s soft as he cleans you, before settling you both under the covers. He pulls you to him and with one last kiss to the forehead, he deems it time to sleep with a sweet goodnight. The last word you hear before slipping to blissful sleep is “fiancé.” You don’t stop the small smile that plays on your lips as you slip into dreams, that are in no way better than the life you are living.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @kaqua​ @novemberrain221​ @weasleywinchester​

[theelectronicstranger]

Ultimates #1 Discussion

          If you have not read this issue of Ultimates, then please stop reading and go read this book because I really enjoyed its first issue. I think it’s worth your time and money, so go support it if you can.

This was a really strong first issue for the Ultimates series. What this issue really showed well is how this team is so unprepared for the mess they’re about to go into. As well as this team is made up of misfits right now, where nobody really has any power to change this world. Right now, Thor is wounded and a new member of their team, Captain America, is probably going to need time to adjust to this new world:

Wounded Thor:

Captain America Out of the Ice:

It’s weird to call a team that has Reed Richards, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and Thor a team full of misfits and outcasts but that’s what they are in this universe. They’re misfits and outcasts. They’re even labeled as terrorists in this universe because people think they caused the explosion in New York. Nobody really thinks of them as heroes. They’re also utterly clueless in how to change this universe and how to defeat the Maker. For example, the way Tony Stark sent out those “Origin Machines” had good intentions but not the best execution. This issue explained how Tony chose the people to send out those origin machines to and why he did it to begin with:

In Tony’s eyes this should have worked because he’s done the math and the science to determine that once he sent these cubes out, the people he chose would want to be heroes. However, I felt that this was way too optimistic, and that Steve Rogers was right when he said: “You can’t start a revolution from your living room. Revolutions start on the ground.”, which I took to mean that these origin machines are too impersonal and that to inspire people to change this world they’ll need more than the gift of their stolen powers and a video recording of Tony telling them that this world is wrong. Tony didn’t really think about how impersonal his origin machines were. He thought that maybe a lot of these people would try to be heroes once they found out the truth of this world; but unfortunately, what happened was that only two to three people, Spider-Man, Hawkeye (Clint Barton?), and Captain Marvel (Carol Danvers?), took those packages and tried to do something with them:

We see two people on that last panel, who I think are Carol Danvers and Clint Barton. I really want to know what happens to these characters because it seems that Carol Danvers might have died? I’m only saying that because in that panel they said that: “It looks like only one or two took. The rest… all rejected, intercepted, or deceased.”. Spider-Man is still running around being a hero as we see from his book, but we also see Clint Barton seems to have tried to be Hawkeye but then gave it up. That’s two right there, so what happened to Carol? Unless they’re saying Carol is the second hero that accepted their destiny and that because Clint gave it up that he isn’t a hero anymore? I’m not really sure and I hope we get to see these characters more in the next issues of this book. The only reason I thought Carol died is because it looks like her power malfunctioned in the last panel. I’m not sure though but I hope she’s not dead because I’d love to see Carol/ Captain Marvel in this universe.

Also, that quote: “It looks like only one or two took. The rest… all rejected, intercepted, or deceased.”, and that last panel really showed how poorly thought-out Tony’s plan was. Sure, he had good intentions in doing this and he tried to calculate so much of it, but the fact that a lot of these origin machines were taken by people that were not meant to have it or that these origin machines’ owners died just shows that this plan was not well executed and was not well thought of. For example, in Ultimate Spider-Man #5, we found out that the Shocker we’ve been seeing in that book got the Shocker Gauntlets from somebody that got a heart attack after seeing Tony Stark’s hologram from the origin machines:

This shows the oversight within Tony’s plan even further because it shows that Tony actually ended up creating a villain rather than a hero. I also feel like this could even foreshadow how Tony could become a villain in the future. He’s literally called Iron Lad in this universe and there have been hints and nudges that Tony might be the Kang in the Ultimate Invasion story that launched this universe. I hope that the stories this Ultimates run show us is how Tony avoids becoming the Kang that we saw instead of him turning into that Kang.

          Next, I want to talk about Hank Pym and Janet Van Dyne. I love that they are pest exterminators in this universe. I like how even in this new universe they are doing something bug related like their lives are so connected to bugs. We actually see them take a call from a restaurant owner who has a “pest” problem. We then find out that these “pests” are Moloids:

I think these panels greatly presents how perverted this universe has become due to the Maker’s influence that the people within it do not care for other life forms and these people would want to destroy them without a single objection. The Moloids, whether these people think it or not, are people too but the evils of this world has been so rampant and so influential to society that the mainstream idea of them is that they’re pests. I’m actually really happy that they show both Janet and Hank not wanting to take on this job because it shows that they have compassion and kindness for others. I feel like if this was written in the old Ultimate Universe, they’d try to do something edgy just for shock value, but in here they’re actually showing that these “heroes” have qualities that would make them good heroes.

          I also really like how this issue focuses on Hank Pym and his alternate universe self. This book establishes that Tony also put in some files about the person he sent those origin machines to and who they were in a different universe, a.k.a. their 616-universe counterpart. Nobody has a crazier and more muddied history than 616 Hank Pym, who was famous for a long time for beating his wife, Janet van Dyne; he has even become a villain at times; and he even merged with Ultron at some point:

The Infamous Hank Pym Panel:

Pym Merged with Ultron:

If you show somebody that they could be that person, a person that would hurt their own wife and even might become a villain one day then they’ll probably be very hesitant to delve into that life and that’s exactly what we get here in this issue:

Basically, this version of Hank has read everything about the 616-version of himself. That’s why he’s so hesitant to want to open these origin machines up and get the powers he could have had because he doesn’t want to be like 616 Hank Pym. He would never want to hurt his wife but this alternate future/ universe he read about shows that he will while he is a hero. I love that you can tell that he’s afraid that he might hurt Janet and he tries to reassure her that he wont but he also feels guilty because he feels like he’s already done those things to her from just reading those files. It shows that this Hank is very empathetic and feels remorseful for things that his alternate universe counterpart did. That’s why he needs a bit more encouragement into wanting to become a hero:

I really like how Captain America encourages Hank Pym into becoming Ant-Man (Giant Man). It goes back to their problem earlier with recruiting heroes. This is the more personal approach rather than just giving them the origin machines with the video recording of Tony. By being there, Captain America can help ease Hank’s doubts and fears that come with these origin machines. I also think that it’s really interesting to be presented with your potential future and having that future be the worst representation of yourself. Now I’m even more interested in this version of Hank Pym because I want to see how he’ll approach being a hero and how he’ll avoid becoming the 616-version of himself. I also like Captain America's emphasis that this Hank Pym and the 616 Hank Pym are different people. The things this hank Pym saw are the 616 hank Pym's sins and mistakes not his. I don’t think he will be like his 616-version by the way. I think he’s too kind and I’m pretty sure the Maker neutered him a bit with his “accident”:

I’m pretty sure this means that he won’t be as smart as his 616 counterpart and that he won’t have as big an ego like his 616-counterpart did.

Also, I really enjoyed how Janet took to being a superhero in this issue. As soon as she puts on her Wasp costume she gets hit with a beam and her reaction to it is like she’s just been shot with a dose of life:

I just enjoyed how happy she was and how excited she was to be this version of herself. I’m very interested in how she’ll be moving forward. Obviously, both Janet and Hank are not doing this superhero thing by themselves, so I’m hoping it’ll be easier for them to be heroes because they have people to rely on. However, we don’t really know how reliable this Ultimates team is.

          I’ve really enjoyed this first issue of Ultimates. I did not think I was going to enjoy it as much as I did. In fact, when they anounced that Deniz Camp was writing this title, I was less interested in it. Not because I didn’t like Deniz Camp but more so because I thought Jonathan Hickman was going to be writing this book and I wasn’t very familiar with Deniz Camp’s writing. However, after reading this issue, I’m very interested in what Deniz Camp has in store for these heroes in the future and I’ll be buying the second issue as soon as it comes out. Also, I really want to say that Juan Frigeri’s art has been amazing this issue. I love how he drew those Moloids in that one panel and I’m really excited to read and see the internal art for this book because of him. Also, I'm wondering when we'll see the Human Torch (not the Johnny Storm/Fantastic Four one) because in the Free Comic Book Day issue, they showed the Ultimates freeing him:

          Anyways, thank you for reading this discussion. This one was pretty long so thank you for sticking with me. Tell me if this issue worked for you or not. What were your favorite moments from this issue? What moments did you not like? What do you think of the team so far? What do you think of Hank and Janet? I’m interested in what you guys thought of this book overall. Thank you again for reading this. Have a great day. My next discussion should be Ultimate X-Men #4.