#justice for tony stark -- his ending fucking sucked

[wack-ashimself]

Ant-man 3 is proof Marvel's peak has come and gone.

<Spoilers, but I am doing you a favor. Read this; do not watch it.>

-Should have been called 'Ant-man deals with his daughter who has Tony Stark's brains, but teenage hormones.' Cuz the Wasp is in it as much as her fucking parents, so she's not the headliner, and not till the end does it even really feel like they super focused on Ant-man.

-His daughter was practically the lead, and it feels like stupid hawkeye; they're trying to give the next generation a spin, pass the baton when....we can just call it. Make up new heroes. She was boring. Not a thing interesting about her or stood out. Seriously: give me 3 adjectives to describe her that make her different from everyone in the movie. Smart? Determined? Heroic? You mean EVERYONE in the movie?

-BTW: why the FUCK is EVERYONE a super genius now? The mini tony stark in black panther 2, ant-man's daughter when...she's just a fucking kid. From a thief and a regular person; why is she so smart!? Ant-man is kinda a fucking idiot. Genetics DOES come to play. 'Hank taught her in her spare time.' WHY? But ok. COOL. I was great at math, A's, then I met calculus and no one could teach me. Not everyone can be taught HOW TO MAKE A MINI VERSE SATELLITE! I just...why can't heroes be heroic and mindful? Smart people don't need powers to help...

-Ant-man movies always kinda sucked (compared to other heroes). Ant-man is funny, but...his powers are boring, and there are limited things you can do with them. Big, small, woot. They were good because of the special effects (fight at the end of 1. Car chase in 2.) But now ALL CGI ALL THE TIME?! No real sets? Ew. And you cut his crew? The FUNNIEST parts of the first 2 ant-man movies? Because Hank and his wife were that important in ANT MAN and the WASP being they are not either of those?

-Fairly, Thor 4 was a trash pile so unforgettable it somehow made Thor 3 look bad because it had similar tones. So thor started this fall from grace, but ant man 3 was the nail in the coffin. Thank god; let it rest.

-Ant-man 3 is not the funniest, the most original, or at all got a good hook. I am not fucking around: There is not a single fucking thing that surprised me in this movie. Even Mordok being the villain from the first movie (sorry). Why? BECAUSE I DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING CARE! NO ONE DOES! Mordok, his origin, arc, and ending is the largest isolated incident of failure to watch for. He/it it so fucking bland and pathetic. The trailer IS the whole movie. Or at least the best parts...

-I feel bad cuz the end of loki, kang seemed like he would be a GREAT bad guy (LOVE the actor. Watch Lovecraft Country if you have not. AMAZING. A great stand alone season), but in this movie, he is such a fucking 1 dimensional basic bitch, he stands out from no villain. And I know THAT Kang was a different one, but the difference was (hint) BETTER WRITERS!!!! Even tho the loki kang was all monologue, it was at least fun. Chaotic. This Kang is like thanos, without ANY proper motivation but control. CONQUEROR. Who cares? Bad guy #3671 step up, get knocked down. Don't get back up again. No different or better than Justice League.

-And they did the 'save it all from grace from outta no where' endings. Summary: hyper intelligent ants went into the quantum realm with them, but experiences millions of years of evolution (why the ants and not them? Fuck if I know. And how did the ants get back to the cast? WE NEVER KNOW!), and they come to fight kang on behalf of hank in the end. I could do crack, acid, and meth and that still wouldn't fucking make sense to my brain. I guess it was the only way they could keep the word ant in the title cuz they come to play NEVER anywhere else.

None of this movie matters. Worst ant man. Def top 10 worst marvel movies (of recent. Not all time).

'Ant-man and the trailer that gave it all away, 3': 2/10.

Best part? All of them are in the trailer. No worries.

<Side note: what the FUCK is with the inconsistent powers? Ant-man: Big and small (NO FLY yet). Wasp: Flying and Small (NO BIG). Daughter: Small, no flying (tho AFTER the wasp's suit was made) and, oh wow, I can hack this at the perfect time, I can go big now! Why would you not make a suit with it ALL for EVERYONE? The fuck you thinking? I know: it will be more dramatic (but stupid as fuck logically.)>

[cunningambitousdetermined]

The Plan (Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader)

title: the plan

pairing: natasha romanoff x f!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of homophobia, FLUFF with a dash of angst

summary: Y/N has been in love with Natasha Romanoff for a VERY long time and honestly, Tony is getting sick of watching it. Natasha has been in love with Y/N since the very first day and Steve can’t take the assassins obliviousness anymore. Steve and Tony, reluctantly of course, team up to make the pair notice how perfect they are for each other. (OH SHOOT IM SORRY I SUCK AT SUMMARIES WOW)

requested by @iamninaanna: 

Hey Sunshine, I love your writing, so I'm here to request something :) 

Can I please request a Natasha Romanoff × reader, where the Avengers are playing truth or dare, and somebody challenges Natasha to kiss the reader, or something like that, and then they confess their feelings to one another. I was having something in mind, I hope it's not to specific, that like Natasha rambles about the reader to Steve A LOT, and he's so sick of it, he has to do something about it, while it's the same situation with reader, just that she's talking to hers best friend, which can be any of the Avengers, you decide, and then Steve and the reader's best friend make a plan together, and well, you know the rest <3

Okay, that was a lot, but I'm really excited😊 Thank you if you write it!!

a/n (i think that's what i put when i’m responding, if i screwed it up please let me know, it would be much appreciated) :

hi taja! thank you so much, this is the first time someone has requested something and im really excited. but also terrified. more terrified. reader is a girl but if someone wants me to rewrite this as gender neutral, i can.  hope i do it justice and if your reading this, thank you for reading. if anyone has any feedback, it’s always welcome. okay here i go!!

the story: 

Y/N Y/L/N flopped backward on to Tony Stark’s bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a angry scream into the unsuspecting piece of cloth and feathers. 

“Woah kid, what’d the pillow do to you?” Tony joked, his eyes still trained on whatever new gizmo he was working on, chuckling at his best friends antics.

“It’s fucking Natasha” Y/N mumbled quietly into the pillow, her voice muddled by the soft white sheets that she buried her head farther in. Tony was silent, the only sounds was the clinking of the Tony’s robots and tools working, so she assumed he hadn’t heard her. Not that she wanted him too anyway. 

Y/N was in love with Natasha Romanoff. Head over heels, fully in love with the assassin that she’d worked closely with for the past years. To describe how Y/N felt about Natasha in words would never to how she really felt in justice. Natasha was a tall glass of Coke: Orange Vanilla. Rare, unsuspectingly sweet, and utterly addicting. Her red hair, the black bodysuit, the way she fought, she could take down 10 men on her own, with her bare hands. She was sweet- always sharing her secret candy stashes with Y/N- smart -helping Y/N out when she was still taking classes. 

Sometimes Y/N really thought Natasha felt the same way, then she flirted with a guy here and hot girl there and the idea fled from her brain.  Y/N had never seen Natasha have an inclination toward women, she flirted with every living thing. Y/N liked to think it was a coping with feelings for someone and that's why she was so flirty but in reality, Y/N knew there was no way she felt near the same way. She was an extra to the Avengers. And besides, no one even knew she liked girls. 

“It’s what, darling?” Tony had moved and was now sitting in front of Y/N, spinning around in his chair like a little kid in their dad’s office.

Y/N wanted to tell him how in love she was with Natasha, she wanted to tell him all the little things she noticed, all the little things she loved. But she couldn’t. How would Tony take it? Tony might take it okay, but the team? Steve? Bucky? They were from the 40′s, women didn’t love other women openly back then, did they still think it was... unnatural? She didn’t think she could deal with being any more of an outcast. Did Natasha like girls? The thoughts were drowning her slowly, cutting off her air supply, the last bit of air building up into a scream that she would never let out. 

Tony coughed and Y/N realized she’d been silent for too long. “Tony....” she took a deep breath in, “I- uh-...,” Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for to go on. Y/N coughed clearing nothing from her throat, elongating the silence before she just spit the words out like hot fire. “I’minlovewithNatashaandIdontknowwhattodo?” 

“You’re what?” Tony asked, having caught nothing of that sentence, something about Natasha but honestly he was still lost. 

Y/N felt a little better and slowed herself down. She trained her eyes on a seam in the comforter and whispered, “I’m in love with Natasha and I don’t know what to do”

There was a silence and Y/N could feel it smothering her, pulling her into the water, dunking her head under, she was drowning and, and and- Tony erupted in laughter. Y/N’s head shot up and she stared at him, color drained from her face. Tony rocked back and forth but when he came up again, he caught the absolute terror on her face and his smile dropped. 

“Y/N?” he asked softy, he stood up, plopping on the bed next to her, “Babe?” Tony tried to catch her eye, ducking his head but she turned away. He grabbed her chin in his large hands, “Babe, I wasn’t laughing at you. God, I’m such an idiot.” he blew out a harsh breath, “I was laughing because I already knew, not because you are in love with her.” Tony felt her face relax and he turned her chin to meet his eye. 

“You knew?” Y/N asked softly, tears still gathered in her eyes. Tony’s eyes softened as he saw the tears and he used the pads of his thumb to wipe them away. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t care if you like women. I’ve known you had some sort of feelings for Natasha for a while, you can see it when you look at her. I was just waiting for you to tell me.” Y/N laughed at this now and threw her arms around Tony, who wrapped her up in a hug. “Now, tell me more about Natasha and this ‘love’” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. 

~

“STEVEEEE” Natasha groans, letting down her normal assassins façade. 

“Mmm” Steve hummed in reply, motioning for her to come in to his room. She smiled and darted to the spinning chair in the corner, propping her feet up on the desk. It was silent for a little bit, the pair just enjoying each others company when Natasha spun her chair around and broke the silence. 

“Do you think Y/N likes women?” Steve already knew the Natasha liked women and he was totally cool with it. Nat has been surprised when he had been super supportive but was very grateful for all the love and reassurance he’d given her. 

“Nat,” Steve sighed dramatically, “She can’t NOT know your in love with her, unless she’s totally oblivious which she may be...” He turned to face her, jumping on his bed to be closer to her, “You should just tell her” 

“But...” Nat frowned, “what if she doesn’t like women? And I creep her out? And..” She stopped as she felt Steve lay a hand on her shoulder. 

“How could she not like you?” he questioned, “And trust me, it’s quite obvious how she feels.” 

“HOW SHE FEELS?!” Nat practically screamed, so unlike her that Steve leaned back. She cleared her throat, “Sorry- she feels...?” 

“She’s in love with you, obviously”

Nat grabbed a pillow from the bed and screamed into it, then looked at Steve, wary, “Really? Y/N with her...” Steve tuned out the rest of what Nat said, he’d heard it all before. Too many times. Nat sighed, in a happy way that Steve had never heard from her before, “Y/N...”

~

Steve knew that this had to end, Natasha and Y/N pretending they weren’t head over heels for each other. He’d heard enough of Nat’s wistful rants, it was so unlike her, it was starting to worry him. If he was correct in his guess, Tony was feeling the same way. So, despite Tony being, well, Tony, Steve sought him out to solve the mess. 

~

“Truth or dare, old man?” Clint smirked at Tony, all the avengers had settled for a night in and decided to play truth or dare. Y/N had rolled her eyes at this, they were too old for it, but settled in next to Tony anyway. 

“Dare, obviously” Tony rolled his eyes at Clint, eagerly awaiting his fate. 

“I dare you to stand on top of the tower and sing at least 30 seconds of ‘Rich Girl’ by Gwen Stefani and livestream it.” Tony laughed at this and stood up. 10 minutes and one livestream later, all of them were laughing harder then they had in a long time. 

“Okay, okay, my turn to ask,” Tony smiled, “Natasha, truth or dare?” Steve couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, the plan was in motion. 

“Dare...” Natasha didn’t let her voice waver, her signature smirk on her face. 

“I dare you to kiss Y/N”

The whole room fell silent. Y/N’s face flamed and her eyes filled with tears. Was this a joke? Tony knew how she felt. How could he? The eyes in the room were on Nat and her but she ignored them as she got up and ran out of the room. Tony’s eyes widened as Y/N darted through the door. 

“Nice going, Tony. You upset her.” Natasha’s glared at Tony, angry. But inside she couldn’t help but wonder if she ran because she didn’t want to kiss her. Maybe she hated the idea. Maybe she didn’t like women after all. Nat got up, she had to face this. “I’ll go get her” She dragged her hand over her face and got up. Tony and Steve exchanged a glance as she left, hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in their faces

~

“Y/N!” Nat yelled down the hall, “It’s me, I’m sorry Tony was a jerk. Can we talk?”

Y/N heard Natasha’s voice and faltered, she had to face this at some point. She took a deep breath, letting the cool confidence she had on missions fill her. 

“Yeah, I’m here Nat” She called back and within seconds Nat ran around the corner. Nat’s eyes softened as they looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes, still just as mesmerizing, puffy and red. Nat took an unconscious step forward, her thumbs caressing the hidden tear streaks. Y/N’s breath caught, her heart flipping at Nat’s touch. Before she could think about it, Y/N leaned up and let her lips meet Nat’s. Nat responded immediately, pulling Y/N to her, wrapping her arms around her, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Y/N groaned into the kiss, letting her fingers card through Nat’s hair. They pulled away after a minute, smiling like idiots. Y/N looked down slowly before glancing back up shyly at Nat. 

“Um... I really like you Nat” She whispered, with a smile

“I really like you too Y/N” Nat chuckled, pulling her in again for a sweet, soft kiss. It said everything they hadn’t said. All the nights of longing, the confusion and the love. 

Tony, Steve and the rest of the team watched from the security room, smiling and high fiving at the happy couple. 

AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! feedback is always appreciated!!

tagging: @iamninaanna (to be tagged when i write something just drop me an ask)

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: Tropey Tuesday

Over the past year my pandemic brain decided it would produce happy chemicals exclusively by reading and writing Stony fanfiction. On the advice of counsel, I decided to take my happy chemicals where I could get’em. And the result is that I’ve had the tremendous pleasure of reading some absolutely incredible works of art by some immensely talented people. And since it’s @cap-ironman RecWeek, I figured this is as good of an excuse as any to make some posts recommending my favs (and try to keep self-recs to a minimum, but I’m only human).

I skipped Multiverse Monday since I’m still not well-versed enough in the multiverse to talk about it with any kind of recommendational authority, but today is Tropey Tuesday, and so I would like to share some fics from my all-time-favorite, major-reason-I-bother-with-the-MCU, gets-me-every-time trope:

Found Family

And so, without further ado, here are some Found Family Stony fics that I simply adore.

Avengers Family Ficlets

Author: elwenyere

Word Count: 8,548

Summary: “You built a neural network that analyzes squash,” Bruce said flatly, “and you attached it to a laser.” A collection of short stories set in the extended Domestic Avengers Universe.

Why You Should Read It:

Thing number one that you should understand about me is that I would be perfectly happy with a story about body-less entities making funny quips at each other in  a featureless void, and anything else is just a bonus. Elwenyere’s stories consistently get the banter down so unbelievably, ridiculously well that when you find out they also have heart, creativity, well-developed characters, and so much damn feeling in them, it feels like an embarrassment of riches.

Go read all of their stuff, please, but this one’s a great place to start. It’s got everything you could possibly want in a fic: over-competitive pumpkin carving, emotional hospital confessions, Christmas decorations that come to life and attack people, crab dip, Steve Rogers accidentally ruining Thanksgiving through the sheer power of his own snark, and most importantly, a bunch of human disasters that somehow make a beautiful family together.

Executive Party

Author: copperbadge

Word Count: 3,228

Summary: Tony's terrible December is suddenly looking up.

Why You Should Read It:

Copperbadge is another author where you should read everything they’ve put out there. They’ve got this phenomenally creative mind that manages to consistently draw out deeply human stories that can kinda catch you off-guard in the places they find touching moments. You might’ve heard of their very popular Foodieverse, which is an incredibly creative AU with the Avengers in the food service industry, but this is the one I come to whenever I’m looking to indulge in my favorite trope.

Tony’s looking forward to spending the night before SI breaks for Christmas doing paperwork. Steve gets the Avengers to have an impromptu video game Christmas Party in his office instead. Cb’s also got a gift for banter (I have a type when it comes to writers, ok?), and the little details like Steve’s carnage record on GTA, Natasha’s Russian appreciation for country music, and Steve’s SHIELD break-up mixtape make it just a goddamn delight to read.

patchwork people

Author: itsAllAvengers

Word Count: 28,247

Summary: It was a pretty well-known fact that Tony Stark had control issues.It was far less well-known why, though.

CW: Past abuse and non-con (not by main pairing)

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re the kind of person who regularly thinks to themself “You know what Tony Stark needs? More trauma,” then this is the fic  for you.

Tony’s got some serious trust issues and PTSD thanks to some shitty, shitty exes. This is the story about how Tony learns to trust again, Avenger by Avenger, in his new Found Family. Come for the Whump, stay for the found family insomnia infomercial parties and Steve Rogers getting arrested for enacting some sweet, sweet karmic justice.

And now we get into a sub-genre of Found Family that is also a huge weakness of mine: Tony thinks he’s only tolerated instead of wanted, and his found family convinces him otherwise.

Some Things Shouldn’t Be a Chore

Author: scifigrl47

Word Count: 22,187

Summary: Steve takes things like personal responsibility and respect seriously. Tony's got people he pays to take care of that kind of thing, and anyway, he's pretty sure that he's going to die of some exotic disease in his workshop, because Dummy's still a little spotty about what is 'clean' enough to put on an open wound.  The rest of the Avengers are in this for personal gain, except for Clint, he just enjoys being a dick. And some things shouldn't be a chore.

Why You Should Read It:

Honestly it feels a bit like cheating to recommend the first work in scifigrl47′s tremendously popular Toasterverse, since I’m pretty sure a lot of people who don’t even like or regularly read fanfiction have liked this one, even indirectly. Sci is so ludicrously good at building an engaging, creative, character-driven universe that this series is responsible for most of the fanon you know and love about MCU fanfics. Tony’s bot Butterfingers? Sci made him up for this story. Thor’s love of Pop Tarts? Clint the vent goblin? All sci. They’re just that damn good at world-building.

In this fic, the Avengers try out a chore chart. Hilarity and feels ensue. I don’t want to say anymore and risk spoiling it because if you’ve managed to get far enough in Stony fanfiction to read this post and haven’t yet read the Toasterverse, I want to keep the experience pristine for you to enjoy. Please read this. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll reserve a hypothetical genie wish to make this series the actually canon MCU (God knows I have).

Hold the Things You Wanna Say

Author: SailorChibi

Word Count: 6,316

Summary: Tony is still a consultant, and between SI, the team and SHIELD he's overworked and exhausted. That's okay. He and Steve have been having sex for weeks but that's all it is, just sex, and Tony wants more but he'll never get it and that's okay. Really. What's not okay is the fact that Howard Stark has somehow appeared in the future and is the same as always. This is definitely going to fuck up his schedule.

CW: Abuse, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting

Why You Should Read It:

SailorChibi’s one of those authors I’ve been meaning to get around to reading all their stuff for, but it’s tricky when you have a short attention span and an author that is just so damn prolific. They’re a multi-fandom maven consistently putting out some really great stuff, and they’re absolutely worth checking out.

This story’s a real yank on the heartstrings, and as someone who can really identify with Tony’s fear of failing the people he cares about, the point in the story where he reaches his low is just unbelievably poignant. But the warmth and the wholesomeness of the end made my heart grow three sizes the day I read it. And the love that all these idiots have for each other is just so damn palpable in this story, it damn near made me cry.

Irreplaceable

Author: Orphan Account :(

Word Count: 4,952

Summary: There are obvious downsides to being the only member of the Avengers who is not a super soldier, a god, or a super assassin, and does not Hulk out when aggravated. The most obvious one is that when villains want bait, they've got a go-to guy. Tony already knew Mondays sucked. He did not need his opinion reinforced this way.

Why You Should Read It:

It’s such a bummer I can’t plunder this author’s other works because I love this one so much!

Tony gets kidnapped and says a lot of self-deprecating things that, unbeknownst to him, are projected on a live feed to the Avengers. They rescue him and have some opinions about how easily he could be replaced. This story’s got Tony hiding from feelings like an idiot, Steve manually carrying Tony somewhere the Avengers can say nice things about him, and a lot of feels.

That’s it for today! Tune in tomorrow for some AU recs!

[cuddles-with-bucky]

My Face, Your Boxers

Bucky X Reader

Authors Notes: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​​ and thank you so much for allowing me to combine these two amazing prompts together!!! Hope I did it justice!

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, pranks, language, sexual tension, talks of sex, implied smut.

Words 2,372

Prompts:

Y/N and Bucky have never got along and are always bickering. One day, he decides to prank her by changing all of her lace underwear to briefs with his face all over them.

Bucky has a date tonight and reader changes all of his boxers to “Pardon My Hardon” boxers.

The boxers:

“You’re putting way too much milk on your cereal, doll.” Bucky elbowed you, almost knocking you off the stool and spilling the milk everywhere.

“Fuck off and mind your own business.” You gritted through your teeth, wanting to knock that smug grin off his stupid face. 

“Ah, young love.” Sam teased as he walked casually into the kitchen that was thick with sexual tension, no thanks to you and Barnes. You shot him a glare, pouring your milk carelessly over your cereal.

“Y/N seriously, fucking leave some milk for the rest of us!” Bucky warned, reaching over and snatching the bottle from your hand.

“Stop being up my ass all the damn time Barnes.” You said, scooping some cereal up on a spoon and shoveling it into your mouth. “If you want me to fuck you up the ass doll, all you gotta do is ask.” 

“I’m out!” Sam announced, grabbing an orange and leaving quickly, leaving just you and Bucky alone in the kitchen which was always a very bad idea since you didn’t get along with the man. 

You’re not really sure why, ever since he came to the compound, he acted cold and distant with you despite your warm welcoming and months later, he became the biggest dick. 

“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth.” You argued, loved pushing his squishy buttons. Despite him being an enormous asshole, he was so easy to piss off and you loved it.

“Hypothetical question, why?” Bucky pressed, taking a seat next to you and watched in amusement as you kept on shoveling the cereal in your mouth. 

“Well first of all; you’re always sweaty and disgusting and I imagine you grunt a fucking lot. And secondly; I repeat my first point. Thirdly; I’m best friends with my vibrator that always lets me cum first. Something I don’t see you doing.” 

“Aww, you jealous doll ‘cause you don’t have a man to know, lick you and fuck you into the mattress?” Bucky smirked, leaning his forearms on the counter.

“Jealous? HA. I actually feel quite sorry for any poor woman underneath you as you drip your disgusting sweat on her face. I’m GRATEFUL for that. Besides, wouldn’t want your dentures to fall out as you sucked the life out of me, plus, I’m a really nice person, now please, fuck off and have a great day.” 

“Whatever you say, doll.” Bucky chuckled, drawing the pet name out since he knew how much it annoyed you. He was getting up to leave and missed the spoon being launched at his head by seconds. 

“Sergeant Barnes?” The AI beeped as Bucky walked into the common room. 

“What is it, FRIDAY?” Bucky asked, looking up in the air. 

“A parcel has arrived and Mr Stark has left it in your room, sir.” 

Bucky laughed knowing exactly what the parcel was, and it was all planned perfectly since you would be out of the compound most of today. 

Bucky hurried back to his room and unpacked the parcel that was sitting on his bed, he cut the tape and laughed maniacally as he pulled the new custom ordered underwear out of the box. He spent hundreds of dollars on this and it had to go right. 

He put a few hundred into a separate bag and hid the box in his closet in case someone decided to barge in like they normally did. Bucky exited his bedroom, walking down to the other end of the hall where your room was, just as he was about to go in, you came out.

“What?” You asked confused, putting your keys and phone in your pocket. 

“I was- I thought you were out?” Bucky stammered, subtly moving the bag of underwear behind his back so you couldn’t get a peek. 

“God, what are you, my husband? If you really must know, I’m just leaving so leave your testicles in your pants and stay out of my room. I remember what you did last time and I don’t want another cleaning bill.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky saluted. He was amused you didn’t even wonder why he was outside your door, or maybe you did and just didn’t care since Bucky always did go out of his way to annoy the fuck of you. Him being there was nothing to you.

While Bucky sneaked into your room, you had your own secret meeting with a friend in Brooklyn. You knew Bucky had a date tonight, because he’s talked about it non stop since last week and since he embarrassed you on your last date, you figured a little paycheck was overdue. Your friend had ordered you over 300 pairs of boxers. Boxers you were planning to plant in Bucky’s dresser so his date could freak the hell out. 

You were an observant person, and his sweatpants never hid anything that great. The man constantly walked around with a boner, it was so obvious so these boxers were true, but you know, they would excuse it for him when his date sees him. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. 

Bucky pulled all your lace panties out and threw him carelessly onto your bed, including your bras. He unpacked the new briefs and folded them neatly into the top two drawers of your dresser, snickering as he saw the print on them. It was probably quite a childish prank, but he was sure you’d get a kick out of it.

Once Bucky was done, he put your laced panties in the bag he brought with him and left your room undisturbed and went back to his to hide the panties and meet Steve at the bar for a few beers. 

You actually passed Bucky in the lobby, just as he stepped out, you were about to step in. He noticed a box in your hands, around the same size as the one he had delivered and snickered. How ironic would it be if you pranked with him the same underwear. 

“Whatcha got there dollface?” Bucky purred, adjusting his leather jacket. You couldn’t deny he looked smoking hot in his black outfit. “More dildos?” He teased.

You snickered and stepped into the elevator. “Why? Jealous they might be bigger than you Barnes?” You cackled, pressing the button to your. 

“STAY OUT OF MY ROOM!” You heard him yell just as the doors closed. 

If anyone was to blame for this prank, it would be Bucky for leaving his damn door unlocked and making it too easy. You had no problem breaking into his room and removing his tattered and worn boxers, some with holes where the wiener would be, why he had a fucking hole there was anyone’s guess, you’d like to think it was because he probably rubbed one out every time he was alone in this room. 

You replaced his ragged old boxers with some lovely new ones. They were red with a black waistband. The imprint on the front where his bulge would be read “Pardon My Hardon.” To now, you cackled like crazy every time you read it. You could imagine the look on his face, and also his date’s face. 

Apparently, he was hoping to get lucky tonight. With these boxers, that’s not gonna happen. This was their first date after all. Once you hid his old boxers under the bed, you proceeded with the second part of your plan to make sure he would wear these and not notice them; remove all lightbulbs from his room. You paid Tony in good faith to cut the electricity for tonight when Bucky would be in his room changing anyway, but to be sure Tony didn’t follow through on his promise for some reason, you needed to remove the lights just in case. 

You clapped your hands when you got the last light bulb out, also throwing them under his bed and left his room undisturbed. 

Now you just had to wait.

***

Bucky returned back to the compound around 8 p.m and already it was dark outside. The heavy rain clouds that lingered over NYC ended daylight quicker than expected. To make matters worse, the storm had cut electricity out in the compound. Candles were lit everywhere, except for Bucky’s room since he just needed a quick wash and change of clothes. His eyes had never let him down before and he knew his room like the back of his hand. 

He closed the curtains in his room and walked into the bathroom, washing his face and hands and patting himself dry with a towel he felt around for. 

Bucky could hear the distinctive chatter from his teammates down the hall as they sat in the common room talking about the storm. Thunder and lightning came suddenly and the rain pelted against the floor-to-window panes. This storm came suspiciously quickly. Considering he was aware Thor was in town.

But these thoughts never really crossed his mind and he didn’t piece it together. He was thinking about Dot and his date tonight. He whipped his black jeans off along with his boxers, opening the drawer, he felt around for a pair and grabbed them.

His fingertips traced along the waistband until he felt the silk label and slipped into them. They felt a little tighter than usual, but Bucky had been working on beefing up again. 

Bucky reached into his closet and pulled a clean pair of jeans off the hanger and slipped them on. He next removed his shirt and picked a button up off the hanger on the other side of the closet. When he was dressed and happy, he sprayed some cologne around his throat and neck, picked up his leather jacket off the bed and left his room. 

He walked a little down the hall when your door suddenly ripped open, scaring the shit out of him. He stumbled and put his hand over his heart.

“Did you seriously fucking change my underwear to your stupid face?!” You gritted through your teeth. 

“I did.” He shrugged, smirking as he now leaned against the doorframe. “Now you will always have me between your legs, doll.” Bucky teased, licking his dry lips. 

You huffed out a laugh and shook your head. You’d never tell him, but you actually really liked the briefs. They were exceptionally comfortable and you find them funny. You couldn’t imagine the look on a man’s face though as he peeled them off you.

“You have a date tonight right?” You questioned, the candlelight behind you just about makes out his features. 

“I do, so no need to wait up. I’ll leave some earplugs in the common room so we don’t keep you awake.” 

You laughed, there was no way he was getting any tonight with those boxers he was most likely wearing. 

“Enjoy the *squeak, squeak, squeak*” You teased, imitating his squeaky mattress that you heard often.

“Enjoy your vibrators that you had delivered today.” He retorted. You snorted and retreated back into your room, slamming the door unintentionally in his face.

***

You didn’t know what time it was when you fell asleep. Once Bucky had left earlier, you found Tony and Thor and thanked them with a hug each for their part in your plan. Let’s face it, without them, this wouldn’t have worked. But it seemed you were right and Bucky really was that naive. 

You’re not sure what woke you up either, you thought you heard a knock on your door but it must have been in your dream. You rolled onto your back and stretched, putting your arm under your pillow, you just started to doze off again when the knock came louder this time. 

You glared towards the door, rolling over to flick a lamp on and dragged yourself from the comfort of your bed towards it. You opened the door and on the other side stood a rather tired and unamused Bucky Barnes. 

“Barnes? Are you lost, you’re room is down the hall on-”

“What the fuck did you do to my boxers?” He seethed, his jaw and fists clenched. You rubbed your eyes and chuckled, angering Bucky more. 

“Oh, you saw them.” Is all you said, his eyes flickering down to his custom briefs. He couldn’t help but become aroused when he saw a slight wet spot and your nipples tenting underneath your tank top. 

“No, Dot saw them and she was fucking horrified!” 

“Poor Dot. You know, they are really funny and I’m sorry but if she couldn’t take the joke then maybe she isn’t the one for you.” You stated, folding your arms across your chest and resting them under your breasts, the swells of your breasts now threatening to spill out. 

Bucky said nothing as he took a step towards you. You remained still in your place, his breath fanned over your face. 

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe then I don’t want another man between your legs, on briefs or otherwise.” Bucky sighed. Your arms dropped down by your side and Bucky took the opportunity to reach out and take on, guiding it to his hard bulge. Your hand squeezed him and he moaned quietly. 

“If you want this, if you really want me, then I suggest you get in here and get your face between my legs for real.” 

“If I knew planting briefs with my face on them would make me fuck you, I’d have done it months ago.” Bucky chuckled, his hands on your waist as he walked you backwards. He kicked the door closed with his foot, guiding you two back towards the bed until your knees hit the side of the mattress. Bucky kneeled on the floor before you, his fingers hovering on the waistband of the briefs. 

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, needing to hear you say it. “I know we hate each-”

“I don’t hate you. And I’m sure. Please…” 

“Good, me neither. Once I start, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”

“Then don’t stop.” That’s all Bucky needed to hear. Once those words left your lips, your briefs were ripped from your body and your legs thrown over his broad shoulders. His tongue diving in between your seeping folds.

[lovelyirony]

uhh made up fic title: heaven won't hold it against you

but hell absolutely will 

Tony was the worst demon of all time. Of all time. 

He let humans wiggle out of deals like a worm that wasn’t hooked properly, takes pity on those who are having a rough time, and tries to warn people about what their actions are going to be like as they’re on the tipping scales of justice. 

“You are literally the worst demon of all time,” Lucifer says, flicking flames at him. He scrambles to get them off of his suit. 

“Second worst,” Tony argues weakly. “I wear nicer ties than Barry.” 

“Barry can at least drive a millionaire to the edge of a twelve-story building,” he growls. “Who gives a shit about his ties when he can give results?!” 

Tony is silent, not sure how he wants him to answer. 

“Look. We’re sending you down to earth. It’ll remind you of how shitty everyone is and you can get back to torturing people and selling their souls.” 

-

He’s in New York City. 

He’s missed it, all things considered. It’s actually chaotic, fun, and there are so many people. 

So many opportunities as well. People are driven by anger more than usual here; there are way more stressors, the subway system sucks in general, and there are at least four different ways he can ruin someone’s day in two minutes or less. 

Except that Tony can’t do it. 

He cannot ruin people’s days. It sucks. The only people that he can really ruin are the people who are already destined for Hell. He doesn’t like tempting others to go to his side, he knows exactly how bad it is. 

-

On the other end of the spectrum, Rhodey is getting his assignment to tail a demon and do some damage control. 

In New York City. 

He has a love-hate relationship with the city: they’re capable of doing incredible things, and just as quickly you will get someone who would push their grandmother off of a train platform to get a leading role in a stage production. 

But this demon is someone that Rhodey hasn’t really heard about. Which is unusual, because angels usually hear about every demon of note. 

His name, according to Pepper, is Tony. He’s pretty high level which is...odd. They know high level. 

He asks Bruce, the guy who runs kind of runs purgatory. 

(He just doesn’t really like a lot of the big shots and enjoys learning more about people.) 

“Tony’s literally the worst,” Bruce groans. 

Rhodey raises his eyebrows. 

“And why haven’t we heard about him?” 

“He’s funny. I didn’t let you know,” Bruce says with a shrug. 

“So you didn’t let me know about a dangerous demon because he’s funny?” 

“I didn’t say he was dangerous, just that he was the worst,” Bruce says with a shrug. “That term can be used in a lot of different contexts.” 

“What kind of context are you talking about?” 

“Go down and find him, and you’ll see. He has a weird goatee.” 

-

New York City is not what Rhodey remembers, but then again he hadn’t been there since 1982, and that was a whole other world away, nearly. 

Tony the Demon, otherwise known as Tony Stark, lives in the basement of an old woman’s house which is odd. Rhodey checks on the old woman only to find her alive and kicking and having tea with Tony. 

He looks...different. 

Well of course he looks different. Demons can’t exactly show off their best assets to humans: the humans would probably die. 

But what surprises him is that they’re eating cookies together and the old woman is telling him about how she used to dance to music with her husband. 

And then they dance. 

They dance, and it’s surprising. 

Tony should be telling her that her husband is never coming back and she’s going to die alone, and he...he isn’t. 

-

There are more instances of it. 

Tony pays for someone’s coffee and holds open doors. He listens to people talk even when it’s complete nonsense, but he listens to them all the same. 

He does puzzles on his days off. 

Tony works in a coffee shop. 

Rhodey’s not sure what kind of long game he’s been attempting to play, but it’s not going to work on him. He’s here for as long as it takes. 

-

Then Tony Stark notices him. 

He doesn’t notice he’s an angel, but he notices his stormy expression and the way that he’s boring holes into the seat across from him at the coffee shop. 

(Look, their peppermint mocha is literally the only good one Rhodey’s had for years, and so he’s not going to go anywhere else.) 

But he usually goes when Tony isn’t there. 

But Tony covered someone’s shift. 

What a fucking angel. 

“You alright today?” Tony asks, his voice softer, eyebrows slightly raised. “Because you kinda look like you want to kill that seat, and I’m not gonna lie to you: we still need that one.” 

Rhodey smiles, shaking his head. 

“Just thinking about work troubles.” 

“Must be some trouble. What can I get for you?” 

“Uh...sixteen ounce peppermint mocha?” 

“Oh my god, you’re peppermint mocha dude?” 

“Why is that important?” Rhodey asks. “Why do you know me?” 

Tony blushes, and it looks...nice. Not evil. That’s weird. Demons don’t usually blush. 

“Uh, just that...my coworker noticed your robot tie. I wanted to see it, but I’m never around when you’re here. But I like your tie today! It’s a good stripe-pattern.” 

He’s being genuinely nice. 

Rhodey knows demons, has heard all the stories from the old-timers. They’re not good at being genuinely nice, ever. The only being they’re ever...respectful of is the Big Guy Upstairs, and even that’s questionable. 

“I’ll...wear it next time,” Rhodey says carefully. “How much do I owe you?” 

“Two-sixteen,” Tony chirps, and he gives him a look. 

“Did you...did you just give me a discount?” 

“Well you seem to be having a rough time, and I had to give you some incentive to show off your tie,” Tony smiles. “Besides, everyone needs something nice every once in a while.” 

Bruce was right: Tony really was the worst demon. 

-

He visits more during Tony’s shifts. He usually works the really early mornings or the really late nights. The shifts that people don’t want, he takes. 

Rhodey sees him a lot. 

“I see you more often than I think I should, honestly,” Tony says with a laugh. “Do you work from home?” 

“I keep my own hours,” Rhodey says with a shrug, “and I like your coffee more than I probably should.” 

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Tony says. 

“Well, you’re an angel for making it,” Rhodey teases, mostly looking to see Tony’s reaction. 

He smiles softly. 

“You really think so?” 

“Yeah. I really do,” Rhodey says, smiling. “You’re the nicest guy I know.” 

“I try my best.” 

“Your best is always good,” he answers. He walks out of the shop, telling him that he’d see him tomorrow. 

As Rhodey exits, he doesn’t see the person watching them across the street. 

-

Hell keeps tabs on their own. 

Even if they don’t like their own. 

And Tony...well. He’s a bit too good. 

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really THAT Bad?

How many fucking times must I talk about this movie?

I feel like this movie doesn’t need an introduction. Everyone knows this film. Its reputation precedes it. It didn’t bomb and it’s not generally considered one of the worst films ever made (at least on the level of films like Robot Monster or The Cat in the Hat), but this movie is easily one of the most divisive films ever made. This film has generated enough arguments that, if we harnessed the energy of all the flame wars it has caused, we could probably power the entire world until the heat death of the universe.

With the impending release of Zach Snyder’s bloated redo of Justice League, I’ve decided to go back and ask myself of this film here… is it really that bad?

THE GOOD

Here comes the most uncontroversial opinion: the action scenes in this movie rock (or at least two of them do). The standouts are the titular showdown, which almost makes sitting through the rest of the movie worth it, and the epic warehouse fight Batman gets into, which is like something straight out of the Arkham games. It’s so good. And aside from that, a lot of the cinematography in the film is good. The film knows how to look good, though unfortunately it does end up being a lot of style with little substance.

On the subject of Batman, I think Ben Affleck is a great and inspired choice. I certainly think he’s worthy of standing alongside Batmans like Clooney and Keaton, easily embodying both the Dark Knight and Billionaire Playboy aspects fairly well, though the writing does not always handle him quite as well as it should (we’ll get to that soon enough). Henry Cavill, while still a rather dour Superman, is as good as ever as Superman, and Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman was a great choice here, especially since she didn’t have control so that she could insert anti-Arab racism, like some DCEU movies.

Perhaps one of the movies most impressive feats is how, in an uncharacteristic moment of brevity, it manages to condense the backstory of Batman into the prologue, getting it out of the way and not making us sit through yet another Batman origin film. This is literally the only thing the movie has over the MCU; where that franchise just has the character Spider-Man inexplicably in existence without even a hint of his origins, they just get Batman’s tragic backstory out of the way so we can see him beating the crap out of people. If more superhero movies want to take this route and just condense the backstory into an opening montage like this, I’d be down for it.

THE BAD

I really could just say “most of the movie” but that’s such a cop out. Let’s actually look at the problems. Let’s work our way up through the things from least problematic to most, shall we?

The best place to start is what Zach Snyder did to Jimmy Olsen.

Jimmy Olsen is made into a CIA spook who is brutally killed early on, and yes, that was Jimmy Olsen. Snyder put him in to shock audiences with his senseless murder, and also because he felt the character had no place in his series. Does making Watchmen just turn people into joyless husks who like to horribly bastardize iconic characters? Jimmy Olsen is ultimately a small microcosm of the film, but he is the sum total of everything wring with the early DCEU. He is bleak, soulless, and shows a critical lack of understanding about the comics and why people enjoy them.

Now let’s move on to the more exciting problem to discuss: the villains. I don’t even think it’s worth wasting much time discussing what’s wrong with KGBeast. While it is kind of interesting they’d think to use the guy at all, the fact he never dons the costume and dies by the end of the film is unfathomably lame for a character named KGBeast.

Now, onto the main antagonist, and the most infamous part of the movie: Lex Luthor.

Lex Luthor is horribly, horribly miscast. Jesse Eisenberg is a great actor for sure, and he’s effective in movies like Now You See Me, The Social Network, and the Zombieland films. But here he is being asked to play one of the most diabolical cunning geniuses in comic book history, and rather than play him as such, he plays him like a cartoonish twit. This Lex is utterly unrecognizable as Superman’s greatest foe. Does anyone think Lex Luthor would send a jar of piss to someone as a joke before he blows them up? That’s more something the Joker would do on an off day. Lex is not cunning, not intimidating, and not diabolical in the slightest, and yet there are moments where Eisenberg’s acting chops shine through and Lex, for a moment, is almost engaging. Luthor really suffers the way Doctor Doom tends to in film adaptations: the filmmaker clearly doesn’t get why people like the villain, and decide to do some weird, unique take that will only cause to alienate fans.

But perhaps the worst of them all is Doomsday. Doomsday has exactly one claim to fame, and that’s killing Superman, so as soon as he shows up if you have even a passing awareness of the character you know how the movie is going to end, which robs the film of tension for its last battle. The fact he also appears with little buildup and doesn’t have any characterization doesn’t help; Doomsday is just the Big Gray CGI Blob that superhero movies try and pass off as a final boss for the heroes to fight. This has worked precisely once, in Iron Man. The Incredible Hulk and Venom did not make it work, and this film is nowhere close to being in the same ballpark as Venom.

By and far the biggest problem, though, is the movie’s incredible length and its very existence in the franchise at this point in time. This is an epic superhero crossover in which two of the biggest comic book characters of all time fight and then team up… And it is the second movie in a franchise. While they do a good job of establishing Batman rather quickly, Wonder Woman comes out of nowhere. And then at the end, Superman ‘dies.’ We have had one single movie prior to this to make a connection to the guy, and yet here he is getting a temporary comic book death with no buildup whatsoever that we know is going to be reversed sooner than later because the movie telegraphs this to us.

Imagine if, instead of building up the character over the course of a decade and putting him in all sorts of different stories, the MCU went right from Iron Man to Endgame. You go from a simpler, character-driven piece to a massive crossover where a hero dies right away, and it doesn’t give anyone time to care. Tony Stark had multiple films worth of characterization under his belt before they threw him in a crossover, let alone killed him, but Snyder expects you to give a damn about a Superman who just started his career in the previous movie of a franchise.

And the ass-numbing length of the movie is no justification. Even before the director’s cut came out this film was a slog, and the director’s cut really does nothing to earn its existence. All it does is add more runtime to an already tedious and bloated film, leading to the same exact ending and fixing none of the overarching narrative problems of the thing. The problem with any director’s cut is that ultimately the movie is still going to be Dawn of Justice, it’s still going to lead to extremely rushed character decisions, and it’s still going to be a mess. You’d have to redo half of the film to make this into a worthwhile and coherent narrative that’s actually worthy of being an entry in a superhero franchise.

And to top it all off, the movie spends far too much time foreshadowing for its own good. People criticized The Mummy for shoehorning in way too many shared universe elements right off the bat, and if that movie was bad for it, so is this one. The cameos from all the members of the Justice League, while striking, could be excised from the plot with little to no impact, and the Knightmare sequence is just excessive and weird.

Is It Really THAT Bad?

The answer to this question has never been harder.

On the one hand, this film does have some merit. There is some good casting choices, good cinematography, good action… But then, on the other hand, the film is overly long, pretentious, has poor writing and dialogue, mishandles everyone aside from Superman, and is just incredibly unpleasant.

This film is in many ways the exact problem Christopher Nolan created with his Dark Knight trilogy. Nolan, by grounding the fanciful characters of comic books into a realistic setting, created a climate in which someone could suck any sort of joy or meaning out of comics. The success of his films meant that people would see dark, gritty realism as preferable to joyous, colorful escapism, and the negative effects of his films, however good you find them, are still felt today even as filmmakers are finally shaking off the grit. Dawn of Justice is the zenith of Nolan’s style of superhero film. There is nothing fun, joyful, or engaging to be found here; it is simply the characters you know and love forced into dark, miserable scenarios that ends in death and misery. Where’s the fun? Where’s the color? Where’s the wonder, the excitement, where is any of it? This film paints a bleak and miserable and hopeless picture of a world of superheroes. It really makes me think of this rather famous comic panel:

I absolutely hate this movie, but not because I think it’s bad. I hate it because it has enough good ideas where it should be the best thing ever, but it really isn’t. It’s a miserable slog of a film that does nothing to justify or earn its massive runtime whatsoever. It really does belong somewhere between 5 and 6 on IMDB, because I can almost see why people like it, but it just isn’t even remotely close to being how good its fan say it is. This is not a good superhero movie, and this is not how we should want superhero movies to be. There is a market for serious superhero fare of course, and there’s no reason that these films can’t engage with mature themes or anything, don’t get me wrong. But this is absolutely not the way to do it.

[justsomeoneunordinary]

Dark Fic Recs

@rhodee asked me for some dark fic recs and since this is one of my favorite tropes, I know quite some. I wanna make clear from the beginning that those are dark fics. Means stories with fucked up/morally dubious/voilent content. And not salty “Team Cap was mean to me, so I become evil now” kind of fics. If you’re interested in the latter, I am the wrong person to ask.

Some of them are much darker than the others, but you should read for each one carefully the tags and/or the Author’s Note, since some have special twists in the end that aren’t mentioned in the tags.

Basically: know your limits.

Dark!Tony fics (my personal preference)

Faster, Colder, Sharper by Penned (WinterIron)

Tony is kidnapped by Hydra. When the team gets him back, he has changed far more than they suspect. More than even the surface shows.

Bucky though, he notices it all.  

A de-aged Tony fic with Bucky as a caretaker... of sorts.

Radioactive by Valmasy (WinterIron, Series)

The pain is all-encompassing. It’s all he can think about. It’s all he feels. It’s all he breathes. It’s all he lives. Like a barbed net, its sharpness swallows him whole, over and over and over. Tony’s mind tries to hide, tries to save itself, but the pain finds him even then. It burns away at his resistance until all he is crumbles, until he’s nothing but ash and dust.

Attack dog by salytierra (Stony)

Steve doesn't swim in self-delusion. He knows that he is sick and that his owner is even worse. He is aware of it every time he rips some nameless guy’s throat out and feels the crunch of bones under his fingers. He is aware of it every time the rush of adrenaline at seeing life slip away from a stranger’s eyes hits him and gets him bothered and panting in ways that have nothing to do with physical exhaustion.

But it  feels so good…

His owner’s approach is less personal. His shots fall clean and take out several foes at a time, his figure elegant and so graceful he looks like a god among savages. He is power incarnated, cold and burning like a sun at the same time… and Steve tries not to focus on him when they are fighting together, least his knees go weak and his technique falters. It’s fine though. They will go home afterwards and his owner will fuck him on the hard floor, with most of their gear still on and a vicious grip in his hair.

Anatomy of a Moral Man by ShyOwl (Stony, WIP)

At a young age Tony understood he was not meant to be a hero and the world, he believes, is far better for it. With his rule now set in stone, his life is finally settling down. That is until something was found buried underneath the ice.

Tony may not be a hero but that did not stop him from falling in love with one.

In Restless Dreams by charocalwinter (WinterIron, WIP)

When he discovers what he believes to be the truth about his parents’ recent deaths, a powerful and morally ambiguous Tony Stark sets out to get his revenge on Steve Rogers. How does Bucky Barnes fit into this feud and why isn't anybody giving him a pair of socks?

“It isn’t often that Tony Stark finds himself unsure of anything, but this situation has him doubting his every thought, his every move … with Rogers comes James, and that boy is muddling Tony’s mind.” ~ interrupted excerpt from ch 4.

A Pound of Flesh by jellybeanforest (Stony)

To save Bucky, Steve volunteers to work off his debt to the Carbonell crime family. Unfortunately, he is unsuited for the role of enforcer, unable to beat and murder those in the same position as Bucky. He is brought before the mob boss, Tony Stark, who demands his pound of flesh in the wake of Steve’s failure. But upon seeing the attractive blond, Tony proposes alternative employment, one that won’t require him to harm others: Becoming his kept man.

“This isn’t an offer I make often, so you should be flattered – count yourself lucky, even – that I am extending you this rare opportunity.”

“To be raped repeatedly?”

“To have a second chance to work off your debts after you failed so spectacularly the first time. But I don’t have to. I could just use these knives I’ve brought along, carve up that pretty face of yours like a Thankgiving turkey, which would be a shame, really. Then I suppose I’d have to pay a visit to your little friend. This entire exercise has been a waste of my valuable time… perhaps I’ll take an arm for my trouble,” he muses. “So, tell me, Rogers, is Barnes right- or left-handed?”

It’s an offer Steve can’t refuse.

Take Away (everything I am) by salytierra (WinterIron)

“Everyone I kill deserves to die.”

“True. But try to explain that to Captain Justice and Faith.” He takes a gulp of the scotch right out of the bottle and flops down on Tony’s lap, straddling his hips. “He cares too much. You and I? – We do what needs to be done.”

Tony circles his waist with both arms and pulls him closer, opening his mouth when Barnes offers him the bottle and swallowing the bitter liquid dry.

“Nobody ever believed I was able to care. So why should I?”

“Coming from somebody who is expected and probably should care more but doesn’t really give a fuck? – I’ll drink to that.”

Operant Conditioning by dracusfyre (WinterIron, Series)

In which Tony is HYDRA and Bucky’s handler.

in another country (people die) by pprfaith (FrostIron)

“The world is not your playground, Stark!” Fury yells at him one time, after he maybe brings down a building or two and Tony just laughs because, seriously, yes it is. 

on the bleeding edge by esama (Pepperony, WIP, abandoned (still good tho))

Tony Stark goes back in time and becomes a super villain. 

Almost Perfect by One and Five Nines (Obani) (Stony, Comic)

A powerful enemy invades from an alternate reality, but the only thing he really seems interested in is Steve Rogers

Eventually by One and Five Nines (Obani) (Stony, Comic, WIP)

Tony is godking of the wasteland. Steve is not.

Victim!Tony fics

Deliver Us by romanoff (FrostIron)

Loki comes back for revenge. Tony Stark is his captive.

“Why,” he tries, voice failing “do you want me.” He coughs into the ash.

“A king needs an advisor. A king needs concubines. A conquering king must learn the ways of the natives or risk expulsion,” he wipes blood from the sceptre with the end of his coat “and I’m rather fond of you, I think. Even in the face of death you use your wit, you charm with your tongue. It reminds me of myself, maybe, one or two millennia ago.”

Terms & Conditions by Penned (WinterIron)

Tony Stark is desperate and trusts too easily. Bucky Barnes takes advantage of that.

A mob AU with no powers, featuring a very dark, very off-kilter Bucky.

(reverse) Kidnapping by AngeNoir (WinterIron)

Tony Stark is wallowing. He has a right to - he's just finished the funeral preparations for his parents in New York. He didn't expect them to live forever, but still...

And then he falls asleep from his bender.

And wakes up in a nightmare.

(Is it a nightmare?)

Anything (and Everything) - remix by Penned (WinterIron)

The Soldier will do anything to make Tony happy, with or without his explicit consent.

Heavily inspired by Shi_Toyu's  IronWinter Holiday Exchange fic "Anything." This is a much darker version of that story.

like flowers soaked in monochrome by deathsweetqueen (Stony)

Steve Rogers woke up to a world where everyone he loved and knew had forged on without him. But this world, it's nothing like he's used. It wants something brutal from him, something unforgiving. There are so many compromises to make. There are too many monsters behind kind smiles.

But if it means keeping Tony safe, if it means protecting him, he's willing to do whatever it takes.

He can't be soft.

After all, the weak are meat; the strong do eat.

Sins of Omission by Kiyaar (Stony, WIP (tbh I still haven’t started reading this story, but the tags and summary sound perfect!))

A Post-Civil War, Pre-Secret Invasion AU where Steve is dead, Tony's a mess, and everything sucks.

In which Tony deals poorly with Steve's death, falls off the wagon, sees ghosts, and misses a lot.

Oh, and the Skrulls are about to invade.

That’s it. Read all warnings carefully and enjoy!

[starkeristheendgame]

Hii I'm the anon that was looking for fics where Peter gets overwhelmed by his senses during sex, I would absolutely LOVE for you to write something if you want to!!

Oof, this gave me feels! I’m so honoured that you’d like me to write something! I hope I did this justice and I hope that I fulfilled your Starker needs! This is pretty vague in terms of age and canon as I didn’t know your preferences ❤️

TW: BDSM Dynamics | Emotional over-load | Sensory over-load | Ambiguous ages | Daddy kink

Peter had always been sensitive. At least in terms of physically. He had a thick metaphorical skin; giving as good as Flash or any other bully could give. But he’d always preferred the softer fabrics, the dimmer lights, that one spot on his bed where it was ‘sinkier’ than the rest.

Sounds always seemed louder, scents were always stronger, and the outside world was a plethora of experiences that Peter learned to grow accustomed to. It was annoying at times; painful at others, but generally something that became his normal.

So, naturally, when he was old enough to develop coping mechanisms and to understand his senses, he got bitten by a genetically modified, radioactive spider and his senses took a jump from a rough 7 to a hearty eleven.

Noises went from irritating but tolerable to deafening. Scents overwhelmed him and choked his throat and god. Lights. He could see every fucking headlight in New York. Tony Stark could laugh all he wanted at the $10 tinted goggled Peter had velcroed onto his suit, but for Peter they were the $800 Gucci shades that hid Tony’s hangover.

Being touched; though. Peter wouldn’t have expected that to be affected by the bite, but he both yearned for it and shied away. Aunt May’s acrylic nails catching on his arm was like a pin being dragged. Tony’s broad palm on his back sent rocket-speed signals to his dick.

Peter could cloak himself in all the gold-titanium alloy and $615,000 lenses he wanted. There was no escaping that particular problem. Not when 12 hour stints in the workshop ended with takeout on the couch, not when being driven home by Happy became being driven home by Tony. Not when the odd shoulder-check or pat on the back became lingering strokes, squeezes, Tony’s body against his as they grinned down at their latest project like proud parents.

The first time Tony kissed him, Peter actually came in his pants like a thirteen year old just hitting puberty. Gasped and mewled into Tony’s mouth, whole body locking up and mind going entirely blank but for TonyTonyTony in a sharp, white flash. Tony had caught him as he fell, startled and amused both, a witty quip on the tip of his tongue.

It had been shortly after that in which peter had been forced to admit he only jerked off once a month on average, because it was so incredibly intense that it usually took him out for a good hour or two afterwards. And that was to say nothing of the dildo under his bed.

And Tony…Tony had crowded him up against the wall, still supporting his weight, eyes dark and lips turned up into a lethal smirk. Fuck, kid. That’s so hot. Look at you, still shaking like a newborn colt. So intense, baby. Bet I could make you cry just from my mouth.

Peter’s (pleasure) pain was Tony’s favourite game. Laying on their stomachs on the fur rug, Tony’s arms wrapped around his hips and holding him down, listening to Peter’s screams get higher in pitch as dark pink stubble burn spread over his ass and thighs. Crowding him against a wall, squeezing firm between his legs, timing the space between Peter’s surprised yelp and his body dropping as he came.

Peter had blacked out the first time Tony fingered him, two thick, long digits spreading him open, rubbing relentlessly against that little pit of pleasure until he’d arched off the bed, eyes rolling, gasping even as he flopped limp into Tony’s arms. He’d woken up to Tony cooing at him, body wiped clean and tucked under the sheets in his arms.

Sex stopped there. And fingering was infrequent, at best. Though Tony’s favourite way to torture him; the older man took pity on how thoroughly it wiped him out and left it for ‘special occasions’ like Peter winning first place at the Regional Science Expo. Eating out, handjobs, blowjobs, grinding and a variety of other play was still fair game, however.

And as much as Peter dreaded finding out just how fucked over (heh) he’d be when he got fucked…He wanted.

Wrapping his fingers around Tony’s thick, long cock he wanted it buried up to his teeth. Suckling around it and listening to Tony’s moans, he wanted to feel it dragging along his insides. Grinding against it, feelings its weight on his hip, he wanted to ride it until they were both shaking.

So like any good strategist, he came up with a plan. Operation Fucked By Tony came into play the night that Stark Industries celebrated its 18th consecutive year of Business of The Year, Engineering Business of The Year and several other titles that rolled across a massive hologram screen in slow succession.

The moment they were alone in the penthouse, the party having moved to a local bar, Peter shoved Tony up against the elevator door with a soft whine and a slow grin. “Mmph, look at you. My big boss Daddy. Dominating the world” he hummed proudly, fingers already dipping to the button on Tony’s Tom Ford, hips rolling slowly forwards to ride the soft curve of Tony’s cock, which twitched against his hip in interest as the billionaire reached down, grasping his hips with an easy, confident smile.

“Only thing I wanna dominate is you, baby. You looked so good tonight, your little Industries badge and your suit” Tony purred back at him, fingers digging against his hipbones the way he knew would make Peter’s eyelashes flutter, pulling him closer until they were rocking together lazily, encouraging their partner into full hardness.

Peter pushed to his tip-toes, wasted no time in distracting Tony with his tongue. The older man gave a pleased sound against his mouth as Peter licked into him, teeth catching on his lower lip, the corners of his mouth already stinging with stubble marks. “Want you” Peter breathed against Tony’s teeth as the older man bared them on a pleasured snarl, hitching Peter higher up his body.

“Mm’kay, sweetheart. Anything for you. What do you want, hm? Want me to blow you, baby? Let you fuck my throat? Or do you want me to fuck you with my tongue, baby? See how quick I can make you cry?” Tony breathed against his ear, nuzzled into the soft curve of his jaw as he reached down, dragging his nails over Peter’s clothed thighs in a way that made the boy shudder and whine, fingers digging into Tony’s side as he fought the sparks of pleasure that threatened to short his senses completely.

“No. Want you. Wanna feel you; properly. Want you stuffed up inside me, filling me up. Want you to breed me with your cum and-” that was as far as Peter got, words cutting off with a sharp whelp as Tony practically threw him upwards into his arms, pushing at Peter’s legs to get them wrapped low on his hips as he squeezed him, sinking his teeth into the junction of Peter’s neck with an almost feral growl.

“Sweetheart” the older man rasped, clearly struggling to contain himself. Tony breathed out shakily over the indent of his teeth, soothing it apologetically with his tongue. “You can’t - Baby. You know it’ll be too much. And for once; that isn’t even my ego talking” Tony hushed, though it didn’t stop him from weighing Peter hips down, riding the plump curve of his ass with a quaking groan.

“Daddy” Peter whined petulantly, scrabbling at Tony’s shoulders, peppering desperate kisses along his jaw, grinding in a sloppy rhythm as little fireworks went off inside his brain. “Want it. Waited too long. You looked so fucking good out there. My Daddy; ruling the world” Peter panted, dragging one hand down between their stomachs, wiggling it between their hips until he could grope the thick bulge beneath him, relishing in the way Tony’s hips stuttered against his hand, eyes dark as coal when Tony tipped his head to look up at him.

Tony took several moments pause to decide, clearly battling between his concerns and the way Peter curled his fingers around his cock, stroking in bare fractions, teasing little rubs that had Tony pushing carefully away from the wall and towards the bedroom.

They undressed in a startling contrast to how they had begun; slow and lazy. Tony kissed and licked every inch of skin he revealed; swatting at Peter’s hands whenever the impatient boy tried to speed him up, or whenever the little sucks were sharpened with a gentle nip of his teeth. By the time Peter was naked he was squirming and flushed, hard as rock and already on the verge of cumming.

“I might not make it if you don’t fuck me within the next ten minutes” Peter panted, fingers curling hard in the silk sheets. Tony chuckled above him, braced on his palms as he looked down at Peter with a lustful gaze. Peter was around to prompt him again when Tony ducked down, kissing him so deeply that it stole his breath and left his lips wet when they parted.

“Sweetheart, if you make it at all, I’m gonna be proudly surprised” Tony huffed back at him, fond and teasing even as he leaned over Peter’s body and made for the healthy stash of lube that took up the middle drawer. Peter tried not to anticipate it, but it was hard (pun intended) not to as he spread his legs, felt Tony’s hands sliding slowly up his thighs, sticky fingers kept away from his skin.

He was trembling by the time Tony ran a fingertip lightly over his hole, sucking in a sharp breath, stomach muscles contracting. Tony cooed at him soothingly as he shifted, begun to push his finger inside on a slow, steady motion. Peter threw his head back, lips parting soundlessly even though it was nothing more than an index finger.

Tony crawled up his body, still knuckle-deep and kissed at his collarbones gently, trying to distract him as he pumped his finger, a bare fraction at first, but speeding up when it became clear Peter wasn’t gonna pass our or blow his load. The boy forced himself to breathe evenly, petting intently at Tony’s hair as he tried to keep his focus. It was nice; the steady drag, the slight resistance of his own velvet heat.

The gentle pressure of a second had him hitching his body up the bedding, held in place only by Tony sinking his teeth gently into his collarbone with a soft hum. His body held firm, and then gave all at once, swallowing Tony’s second finger greedily, sucking it into the tighthotwet softness of his body. Peter’s whine was smothered by Tony’s mouth as the older man kissed him, free hand petting at his hip. “Daddy’s got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you”.

Tony scissored him open slowly, careful and educated curls and spreads of his fingers that had Peter’s hips hitching up, rutting against Tony’s flank and chewing on his tongue in desperation. He felt like a live-wire, strung out and ready to explode. He could hear in ultra-definition the sharp little pants Tony breathed, the stutter of his heart, the thrum of electricity all around them, like a living being.

His senses were hitting that just-before-white-noise level, but he ignored it in favour of crying out as a third finger spread him wide, more than he’d ever taken. For a moment there’s nothing but white noise and the way he felt obscenely spread wide, gaping. And then there was Tony and his low voice and the slight ache of his ass being stuffed full and stretched open.

“Oh, baby” Tony rasped, and fuck. They’d barely done anything but Tony sounded fucked out already, free hand moving from his hips to cradle his head like he was fragile glass, pausing his movements until Peter’s heart no longer threatened to tear his ribcage apart. The encompassing blanket of soundtouchheatskinstretchscentlights became something a little easier to differentiate, Tony’s body an anchor he scrabbled at breathlessly, before he nodded.

“I’m good. Please. Wanna -” He cut off on a stressed out hiccup, nails dragging down Tony’s spine in a way that made the older man arch and hiss, eyes going molten as he carefully eased his fingers out of Peter’s writhing body, reaching for the lube again. “Please, Daddy. Need you. Daddy, please” Peter whined, fighting off the way his nose begun to sting with the scents, the headache that begun dull and heavy at the sounds and the intense physical sensations.

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay. Breathe for me, darling, okay? Breathe for Daddy. Iiiiiin, and oouuuut. Good. So perfect, sweetheart”. Tony coached him as he lubed up his cock, voice hitching and lashes dipping as he curled his fist around himself, stroking in slow but firm jerks. He was painfully hard and Peter felt guilty for needing so much time to prepare.

They didn’t need a condom. Tony and Peter had been exclusive for almost a year now, and Tony had been clean the day they’d first made it a ‘thing’. The bite also meant that Peter couldn’t carry diseases of most types, including sexual. He’d been tested; just the make sure, but it had come up as a neat blank for everything.

Tony positioned himself carefully between Peter’s thighs, doing nothing for the longest time but hovering over him and kissing him slowly, sweetly. It helped to somewhat dull the building avalanche of sensations, allowed Peter to focus solely on the scrape of Tony’s stubble, the wet taste of his mouth, the space between them filled with rapidly cooling air.

He’d almost, almost forgotten where they were until Tony shifted, sunk down into the space between their bodies, until his hips forced Peter’s thighs apart and the blunt, thick head of his cock just lay at Peter’s slick, red hole. Peter gave a whole-body jolt at that, teeth sinking into Tony’s lip none too gently, fingers squeezing around Tony’s biceps with only enough conscious thought not to break them.

Tony paused, but Peter shook his head, then nodded, unsure of what signal would engage keep going and not stop. Thankfully Tony seemed to get it, a sightless presence behind Peter’s tightly shut eyes as he begun to nudge forwards, seemingly millimetre by millimetre.

After what seemed like an age, he could feel when his body couldn’t bend any further, and begun to spread. Opening in an agonisingly slow movement around Tony’s thick cock, opening and aching and thick pressure that had him half-screaming, muffling his mewls into Tony’s shoulder as he gripped at him, knees digging into Tony’s ribs where his legs had wrapped around him of their own accord.

It clearly pained Tony, the boy aware enough to notice his wince, but Peter couldn’t find the brain capacity to loosen his hold, couldn’t do or think anything beyond openstretchingachingwantinghurtingtoomuchnotenoughtony.

“Peter” Tony gasped, breath forced from his lungs as he buried himself inside the boy with a jolt, eyes lanced with pain as Peter clung to him, eyes rolling and entire body curved and tense, arching up against Tony and trembling violently with the force of it. Distantly, Peter was aware Tony had spoken. But he couldn’t focus on anything except the crippling array of noises around him, the scent of the washing powder mixed with the chemicals in the lube and the tint of Tony’s sweat. The burning hotness that pulsed through his body, the rattle of his own breath in his lungs.

White. Dark.

Hot. Too hot. Too numb to be hot.

Gaping open. Split in half. Impaled.

The vague awareness of sound. Desperate sound. Wet sound.

Blank.

The first thing that came back to him was the rasped sound of his inhale, the drag of air over his tongue and between his teeth. Shuddered and greedy, because the next awareness was how tight and sore his chest felt, like he’d been holding his breath. Everything ached and hurt like it did after a battle, but there was also something floating in that murky darkness, something familiar and comforting.

Piece by piece, things came back. Intense but not as crippling as before. The salt of tears. The tackiness of drying water on his skin. Skin on skin. The softness of the sheets, unmarred by their activities. The low, thrumming background noise became a voice, low and rumbled in his ear, senseless words that soothed him nonetheless.

It felt like surfacing from being buried alive. Crawling up that last foot of mountain. Breathing after drowning. He lay there for a while, nothing but a breathing body in a state of semi-consciousness, before the first word fought through the haze of his mind, followed by each one after like a progression of soldiers.

“Peter, sweetheart. You did so well. I’m so sorry, can you breathe in again for me? That’s it, darling. So good. My precious baby. Daddy’s here for you. Not letting you go. In and out, baby. You’re so good, darling. And again. That’s it, Peter”.

Tony.

Opening his eyes hurt, left him squinty and shrinking away from the dim room, but it lent him a sense of orientation. He was on the bed, under a thin silk sheet, and curled against Tony’s body, cradled carefully like a doll. Tony was still talking, and when Peter found the brain function to tilt his head, Tony was gazing at him intensely, caught between concern and love.

“Hey, darling. Welcome back. You kinda did a little power down, but that’s okay. You did so well, so good for your first time” Tony greeted him softly, passing a cold cloth over his brow.

A power down?

He pieced it together, from the fragments his muddled brain could shove forwards. He remembered the building crescendo, the blinding force of TonyTonyTony and then…Nothing. The power down. He’d blacked out.

“You were shaking and crying, darling. Kept shouting my name and moving like a cat that didn’t wanna be held. You said it was too bright and too loud. I tried to pull out without hurting you, sweetheart, but I still put some cream on you, just in case” Tony soothed, petting at his hair, brushing it from his eyes.

Peter couldn’t even feel embarrassed, too tangled up and exhausted to do anything but let his head fall back to Tony’s shoulder, eyes falling shut on a heaved, jagged breath.

“That’s okay, darling. If you want to nap, you take a nap. I’ll be right here, sweetheart. Not gonna go anywhere. Take a deep breath, baby. That’s it. So good for me, Peter. Such a good boy for Daddy. Get some rest now. I won’t leave you” Tony continued, petting at him in feather-light touches, his own chest rising and falling against Peter in a series of slow, even movements. Exaggerated until Peter’s body fell into rank.

He would be embarrassed later, when he woke up from a six hour ‘nap’ to Tony still curled around him, glasses on and nose-deep in a Stark Industries document. But Tony would hear none of it, pulling his hands from his face and peppering him with a litany of soft, sweet kisses, cuddling him close and refusing to relent until Peter was breathless and giggling, still raw and sensitive but calm, contained.

Two months and a lot of practice and training later, Peter would lay under Tony on his birthday, eyes rolling and Tony’s name a broken prayer on his tongue, hips jolting as he came between their stomachs with the force of an avalanche, conscious and aware throughout it all, jerking with every white-hot spark of pleasure, every low, guttural moan in his ear.

It was worth every incident thereafter of Tony boasting about ‘dick so good it knocks them out’.

[hopesbarnes]

NOT WHAT IT SEEMS (9)

Summary: Social Media AU; Y/N L/N, Peter Parker, and Harry Osborn are thick as thieves. Best friends till the end. They just don’t tell each other everything. Peter doesn’t know Y/N is in love with him, and Y/N doesn’t know he’s Spiderman. College is hard enough without all the secrets and lies. But everything has to come to light at some point? Doesn’t it?

A/N: This chapter is mostly text but there’s a few pictures also. Only two more chapters after this... (ps i see the typo in the text)

“You are really sucking at this game,” Peter says laughing.

“What 20 year old has Guess Who anyway,” you say and flip-down more characters. 

“Completely mature and grown-up ones. Duh,” he says and smiles cheekily. 

“Your smile’s really cute,” you say and put your face down to hide how much you’re freaking out. You didn’t mean to say that comment aloud.

“Peter- I,” you say at the same time he says “Y/N, you-” and the two of you nervously giggle and he shakes his head. 

“You first,” he says and you nod. 

“I really like you, Pete,” you admit shyly.

“Thank fucking god,” he says and your head snaps up. “I really like you too.” And for a moment it feels like there aren’t any barriers between you. It doesn’t feel like you’re Black Cat, the vigilante thief who kills people. It just feels like you’re a girl. A girl in love with her best friend. 

His eyes drift to your lips and you slowly lean in closer to him. You’ve been dreaming of kissing Peter Parker for far too long, and it finally is going to come true. Until he freezes and looks shaken.

“I- uh. I have to go,” he says suddenly and grabs his jacket before taking off. From his apartment. You have no idea what happened. Maybe this was all too much for him...

You use a grappling hook to swing near where the Avenger’s tower is. It’s late and the only thing illuminating the city is neon lights. The A on the tower shines bright, a symbol of hope for all people. All people who don’t see the greedy nature of Tony Stark, or annoying need to be good that Spiderman exudes. The need that jailed your ex-boyfriend instead of giving him the slow excruciating death he deserves. You take in a breath and release your retractable claws. There’s a fight to win.

You land on the building next to the tower and watch the scene unfold in the distance. Spiderman and Goblin are at fighting at the top of the building and it doesn’t look good. Harry’s throwing punches, but Spiderman dodges every one or swings out of their reach. Their skills are matched and Harry needs a tipping point to win. A tipping point that has your name written on it. You switch your comm to the channel Harry told you to use and perch yourself on the side of the building you’re on.  

“Goblin, where’s the file,” you shout knowing that the file on the flashdrive is what matters most.

“By the glass door!” he yells back between grunts. You back up and take off running towards the tower using your claws to grip the railing of the launchpad beneath where they’re fighting. You know Spiderman can sense you now and will see you any minute now. 

You attach the grappling hook again, this time to the structure above you and front flip right into the spider’s eyesight.

“Black Cat! Nice to meet you. I don’t like cats very much!” he says and still manages to grab Harry’s fist mid punch. This time though it knocks Harry off balance and sends him falling to the ground. It allows Spiderman to run over to where you are, and you lose the time advantage to grab the file still laying by the doors at least twenty feet away. You try to twist and leap off the story you’re on and land back on the landing pad, but he thwips a web at your leg and pulls you back down to the ground. He goes to pull the web towards him, but you use your claw to cut the substance from you. It gives you enough time to turn his trick against him and yank the web sending him towards you and on top of you.

“Hi, there spider,” you say sweetly and reach a hand up and caress his masked face. 

“Huh?” he says at your motion, and you weave your leg over his allowing you to flip your body over his and cage him in. It works like a charm and stuns him enough to get you to stand.

“Cat, I got the drive, we need to get out of here,” Harry says over the comms and you do a back walkover to the edge of the building.

“You were fun to play with Spidey, but I gotta go!” you coo and dive backward off the building landing in a crouched position on the landing pad. Harry uses his glider to reach you and shows you the drive in his hand. 

“We’re in business again,” he says and you can tell beneath his mask he’s grinning. He reaches a leg up to board his glider again, but instead is paralyzed and you see electricity move through his body. It causes him to collapse to the ground again. 

You spot the thread connected to his suit and follow it to see it reach Spiderman’s hands. He’s dangling from the upper layer with one arm and using the other to send a taser web to the Goblins’ suit. It had to have caused his suit to reboot and leave him temporarily vulnerable. He releases the taser web and sends a new web to grab the drive that has fallen from Harry’s gloved hand to the ground next to him. He isn’t quick enough though and you jump to grab the drive and get pulled back to where Spiderman hangs. 

“Someone’s eager for another round,” you say before getting ready to steal the drive back. It gets tossed to the other side of the building. You have to get Spiderman off the roof before you can get it.

“Just can’t let this in the hands of a cat burglar. No hard feelings though,” he chuckles.

The two of you are mere feet apart and circle each other like predators intimidating their prey.

“You do know cats kill spiders for fun, right?” you say and run towards him, sliding beneath his legs at the last minute getting him off balance. He swings a web your way but you duck it and double back towards him.

You get close enough and manage to kick his stomach. He recoils in pain but doesn’t drop. 

“You’re pretty resilient. But baby, so am I,” you scoff and walk towards him. He throws a punch that you dodge. It allows you to get behind him and claw his back with your talons. 

“Fuck! That stung!” he yells. Finally, Harry flies back up and tosses one of him bombs towards Spiderman. It goes off with a loud bang and a fire starts. The two of you worked in the Oscorp labs to lace Harry’s bombs with a neuroinhibitor that temporarily disables Spiderman’s spidey senses.  

Harry flies to where the drive is, but Spiderman follows behind and throws a web to grab hold of Goblin. But instead, it attaches to his mask and knocks it loose. With a yank of the web, the mask comes off. You’re sure it wasn’t Spiderman’s intention to unmask Harry, but it’s been done. And it’s abundantly clear that the heir to Oscorp, the headliner of many gossip columns, and son of Norman Osborn has been wreaking havoc on the city.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. There’s no coming back from this. Harry is done for. 

“Harry Osborn?” Spiderman says and Harry freezes for a second upon hearing his name. But he swiftly gets his footing back and grabs another bomb from his glider. Before he can throw it towards the spider, his wrist is kicked and the bomb gets thrown towards you. 

“Y/N look out!” Harry yells out instinctively. His eyes go wide once he realizes his mistake and all he can do is blink. You duck the bomb effortlessly, letting it hit a corner of the building and the area goes up in flames. 

“Y/N?” The masked spider says. There’s hurt laced in his voice and you don’t know why. All you know is your days of being a masked vigilante are gone. You relied on being in the shadows, and unknown force that took justice into her own claws. But all that is over now.

Spiderman pulls at his mask, and you’re left face to face with the boy you’ve been in love with for as long as you can remember. Peter Parker. Your Peter Parker. The same guy you were just playing a game with mere hours ago. The guy who trips on his laces and sends you goofy chemistry puns. He’s been a superhero this entire time. Not just a superhero, the one you have been helping Harry takedown. 

“Pete?” you say and drop your mask too, there’s no point in trying to keep anonymity now. 

“You’re spiderman?” You ask rhetorically. You can’t wrap your mind around the fact he’s the spider. God, he’s Harrys best friend too. They’re roommates for christ’s sake. How did everything get so twisted?

“Oh god. What have we done,” you say and collapse to the ground. A tear leaves your eye. All you wanted was to help those who didn’t get justice. And serve that justice to those who escaped it. Maybe steal a few things from those who didn’t need them, but you never meant to let it get this far. 

“I’m so sorry. I can’t fight you. I’m in love with you!” you admit aloud and Peter kneels beside you. He wraps his arms tightly and you hold him tight. But Harry comes to shatter the reunion.

“You fucking killed my father!” He says venomously. Peter stands up to try and reason with him, but he doesn’t stop and impales Peter on a sharp-tipped boomerang. The blade goes straight through Peter’s chest and he collapses to the ground.

“You stabbed him!” you cry out. Harry reaches unceremoniously for the drive that fell from Peter’s hand and goes to take off. As if he didn’t just stab his best friend. 

“Y/N! We need to go!” he says without any discernable emotion, but you can’t move. You can’t leave your Peter here to bleed out. 

“I’m not going with you, Harry. This has all gotten out of hand!” you say and Harry takes off. Leaving you and a bleeding Peter parker. Both unmasked, and in a situation, you shouldn’t be in.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 5: Keeping Up Appearances

by @dracusfyre

Bucky stared sightlessly at New York traffic as he quietly panicked. He tried and failed to think of any way to get out of this, now that he was already in the car; if he could have, he would have given himself nausea and diarrhea immediately and suffered the indignity instead of escorting Tony Stark, the Mechanic, the single most powerful crime boss in Manhattan, to the Policeman’s Ball. What in the hell was he going to say to his handler? For three blocks he debated whether to give them any advance warning at all; it would be so much easier to deal with the fallout later by claiming that Stark had taken his phone before telling him where he was going. For three more blocks, he tried and failed to type something, each sentence he came up with sounding dumber than the last, so with only the barest bit of guilt he stashed his phone in the car’s glove compartment as Happy pulled into the drop off line for the ball.

Cameras started flashing almost as soon as he got out of the car to open Stark’s door, and while Stark climbed out, smiling and waving, he tried to look as boring as possible, mouth a flat line as he ignored the press and kept an eye out for anyone looking suspicious. Just what exactly was he supposed to be guarding Stark from, anyway? Other mob bosses in attendance? A mugger? The police?

“Want a drink?” Stark said once they got inside, and Bucky forced himself to shake his head even though he desperately wanted to say yes. He trailed behind Stark as he glad-handed the crowd, making jokes and asking after people’s kids, and miserably tallied the various important people in the room: the mayor, who gave Stark a handshake and a clap on the back for his donation to the Food Bank For NYC; a representative to the state house, who managed to solicit campaign donations in the guise of complimenting him on his philanthropic efforts; a US Senator that thanked him for his investment advice. And those were just the people that Bucky recognized; there was no telling how many government officials and CEOs that numbered among the people that subtly held court around Stark. He wondered how many knew about Stark’s criminal ties, and how many would care if they did know.

Finally, for Bucky’s sanity, they made the announcement for dinner and everyone filed dutifully into the main hall where they set up tables for the event.

“I was wondering if you were coming, Tony,” an amused voice said from behind them. Stark turned, and the smile he had been wearing all night widened and finally reached his eyes as a tall, slim redhead let him pull her down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Pepper, so glad to see you,” he said, taking one of her hands and putting it in his elbow. “Are you sitting next to me?”

“Of course.” Bucky recognized the woman from Stark’s case file; she was Virginia Potts, his personal lawyer. Though ‘lawyer’ didn’t really capture her, really; from a police perspective, she was Cerberus, the dragon guarding the tower, Gandalf on the bridge: in short, “You Shall Not Pass” in human form. She was largely the reason why Bucky was on this undercover assignment; faced with the potential of meeting her in court, no judge in the city would grant them a warrant without a literal smoking gun of Stark’s guilt. She was just as well connected as Stark was, to boot; one of the other senior partners at her firm was on the short list of the Democrats’ Supreme Court Justice picks and the other worked for the state as the deputy Attorney General. “How are you? Who’s this?” she asked, finally noticing Bucky following them to the dinner table.

“I’m fine, and this is a new guy,” Stark said as he pulled the seat out for Potts to sit. “I call him Blue Eyes.”

Potts rolled her eyes and offered Bucky a surprisingly kind smile. “Don’t worry, he can’t remember my real name either,” she said. “Don’t take it personally.”

“I don’t, ma’am,” Bucky said, returning her smile despite himself.

“Oh, Bill, it’s good to see you,” Stark said, and Bucky glanced away from Potts to see that sitting right across from Stark was the NY police commissioner.

 Tony hid a smile as he heard the strangled noise Blue Eyes made when he recognized the police commissioner. But after an evening of watching the man sweat as Tony rubbed elbows with the most powerful men in the state, he took pity on him. “I’ll be good for a while, if you need to take a break,” he said, and watched with amusement as the man all but fled from the table.

“What was that about?” Pepper asked with a small frown, thanking the wait staff as they filled up her glass with water and set a glass of white wine in front of her.

“I think his eyes aren’t the only thing about that guy that’s blue,” Tony said, looking significantly towards the police commissioner. Pepper’s eyebrows shot up and she took a drink of wine as she realized what he was saying, then she barely swallowed it in time before she laughed.

“And you brought him here? You are a terrible person,” she scolded him, clearly trying to suppress a smile.

“Yeah. It’s been fun watching him trying to avoid the cameramen all night. Especially because he’s been so worried about being photographed that he probably didn’t notice the fact that half of the conversations I’ve had tonight involved breaking the law in some way or another.” For example, what had probably sounded like a request for a campaign contribution was actually a solicitation for a bribe, which Tony was going to pay because politicians were just good investments, really, and honestly the Senator Walker should really talk less about how much money he made off of insider trading, particularly when he is using his committee positions to do it.

This time, Pepper’s eyes held a flash of warning instead of amusement, and Tony held up his hands in surrender, turning the conversation to safer waters as they ate.

                                                               ***

To Bucky’s surprise, Stark was ready to go not long after dinner; for some reason Bucky had the idea that he would want to stay all night, shaking hands and taking turns around the dance floor. He was all smiles as he left, but as soon as the car door closed behind him, he collapsed against the car seat with a sigh.

“You know,” Stark said, eyes closed as he rested his head on the back of the seat, “the funny thing about going to these events, is that I probably shook hands with more criminals tonight than I have in the past six months put together. But no one cares about that because the people who are supposed to care are criminals too.”

“That sucks, Boss,” Happy said, clearly having heard this complaint before. Now that they were far from the crowds and bright lights, Stark’s good mood seemed to be curdling; he sounded almost depressed. 

“It’s exhausting, is what it is. Blue Eyes, have you ever had to shake hands with and smile at someone that you hated all the way down to your bones?” Stark’s voice was muffled and Bucky looked back to see that his hands were over his face as he rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah, of course. There’s always that one guy at every job, right? The asshole that no one likes?”

Stark barked out a laugh. “Having only one would be nice, actually.” He sat up suddenly and scooted forward until he was all but in the front seat. “Let’s get dessert. Is there a late night ice cream place? Or pie? Or donuts? Back there they only had some sort of fancy baklava on the menu and I don't like honey.”

Happy and Bucky shared a look and Bucky patted his pockets for his phone before remembering that he’d put it in the glove compartment. Then he remembered why he’d left it in the car, and winced as he saw the notifications on his phone. But it was after midnight so that was going to be a Future Bucky problem. He pulled up the search bar and found a late night cookie company that was on their way home.

When they got there, there was no place to park, so Bucky got out with Stark to go inside while Happy stayed with the car. Unsurprisingly, they were the oldest people inside; the cashier and the two other customers looked like they were still in high school or college, because realistically who would be looking for a sugar fix this late at night except students. And one mob boss with a sweet tooth, apparently. Stark made a beeline for the display case and all but pressed his nose to the glass.

“What’s your favorite kind of cookie?”

“Something with fruit and nuts in it,” Bucky said. “You?” Bucky came up next to him to read all the labels. “Mexican chili cookie? Who wants a spicy cookie?”

“Can’t do better than chocolate chip,” Stark said.  “But that salted caramel is speaking to me.” He glanced up at the menu and said, “Ooh, ice cream sandwiches,” sounding so excited that Bucky had to smother a smile. It was hard to keep a straight face as Stark deliberated; the man was being so stupidly cute as he debated the merits of the different options that Bucky had the dumbest fucking desire to kiss him. Stark ended up buying a whole box of cookies and an ice cream sandwich because he couldn’t decide on which cookies he wanted, and because he kept thinking of people to give them to: “Happy will say he’s on a diet but I think he’ll want one of these M&M cookies. I don’t think I’ve ever seen mint in a cookie, I’ll get that one for Rhodey, but also this sprinkle one because it will be funny.”

Maybe it was the sugar or the impulsive shopping trip, but Stark seemed in lighter spirits as they drove the rest of the way back to his garage, telling funny stories about the people that had been at the event. It even made Happy unbend a little, as much as he ever did when he was working, and at one point Bucky was laughing so hard he was in tears.

“Here’s good, Happy,” Stark said before they could pull into the secured parking lot behind the garage.

“Are you sure, Boss?” Happy said dubiously. “It’s not safe-”

“I got Blue Eyes to protect my virtue, right Blue Eyes?” Stark said. Bucky almost bobbled the box of cookies as climbed out of the car at the mention of Stark’s virtue, and when Stark met his eyes Bucky knew he’d done it on purpose. “Come on inside with me,” Stark continued. “We need to talk about the event tonight.” He leaned over to look at Happy through the window. “You go on home, I’ll make sure he gets home ok.”  When Happy nodded, Stark tapped on the top of the car and stepped back from the curb as the car pulled away

Bucky’s hands tightened on the box of cookies as his heart gave a heavy thump and his mouth went dry. He swallowed against a spike of nerves. We need to talk was never a good sign, but also, he was about to be alone with Stark. Trying not to think about what had happened earlier, he trailed awkwardly behind Stark as he put in the security code for the door and stepped inside, turning on a few of the big banks of fluorescent lights as he went.

“You can change, if you want,” Stark said, gesturing towards the bathroom where Bucky’s clothes were still folded neatly on the sink. He shrugged out of his suit coat and unbuttoned the sleeves, rolling them up so the cuffs didn’t dangle. Bucky’s eyes lingered for a moment on the lean muscles of his forearm, the strong, slender wrist bracketed by the narrow-banded watch, and decided that a moment alone in the bathroom was a good idea.

He changed quickly and splashed cold water on his face, giving himself a stern lecture about professionalism in the mirror, reminding himself why he was really here. His boss would be telling him that this was a great opportunity, that he seemed to have Stark’s trust. That now would be the perfect time to dig a little deeper. Bucky told himself that even though Stark was handsome and funny and apparently the kind of guy that would stuff a hundred dollar bill in a tip jar didn’t mean that…

“Wait, start over,” he muttered, shaking his head. Even though Stark seemed like a good person he was, at the very least, the target of a massive criminal investigation, even if it did seem like maybe there were worse criminals out there they could be investigating. They weren’t friends, he reminded himself. Stark didn’t know anything about him, and would probably drop him into the Hudson if he did. With that sobering thought, Bucky sighed, gathered up the fancy suit and shoes Stark had lent him, and went back out to the main room.

Then that whole pep talk promptly went out the window as he came out to see Stark sitting on a metal table, swinging his legs like a kid as he ate a cookie. As Bucky came closer, he saw that Stark had kicked off his shoes and had also taken a signle bite out of half the cookies in the box. When he looked up at Bucky with a smile of welcome, Bucky knew that he was in trouble.

“So what did we need to talk about?” he asked, taking a seat on the table next to Sta- Tony. He might as well stop calling him Stark; it’s not as if thinking of him by his last name was helping him maintain any sort of objectivity.

“Just getting your impression about tonight. Did you notice anything I should know about?” Tony held out the cookie box and Bucky took one of the oatmeal craisin ones, one of the few that Tony hadn't taste tested.

He took a bite to buy himself some time to think; Bucky had a lot of observations from tonight, ranging from the completely inappropriate (the curve of Tony's ass when Ms. Potts dropped something and Tony bent over to pick it up) to the irrelevant (not impressed with the music selection) to the potentially explosive (the Commandant had a drinking problem and was probably cheating on his wife). Assessing which were relevant to Tony took a moment. “There were a couple of people that were giving you the evil eye all night,” he said finally. “Right after you shook hands with them they looked like they wanted to shank you.”

Tony threw his head back and laughed at that. “I’m sure. Was one of them a skinny tool with glasses? Justin Hammer?”

“Yeah, that was one. Another one was the Special Agent in Charge of an FBI satellite office-”

“Not surprising,” Tony commented. “She’s new. The new ones are always hungry, she’ll come around.”

“-And the other was a big guy, bald but had a beard. I didn’t catch his name, sounded like you called him Toby.”

“You mean Obie? Obediah Stane?” Tony said with surprise. He dug out his phone and pulled up a picture. “This guy?”

Bucky leaned over to look at the phone. “Yeah. I always saw him watching you when you were talking to other people. Guy had eyes like a shark. People like him can kill someone and pass a lie detector test while his hands were still bloody. Who is he?”

“A family friend.” Tony frowned down at his phone and tapped it against his palm thoughtfully. “At least, I thought he was.”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry,” Bucky said. “Maybe I’m wrong, you know, I’m not-” an expert, is what he was going to say, but he stopped because no matter how you sliced it, cop or criminal, he was. He was an expert in assessing threats, and that guy was definitely bad news.

Tony waved his words away and tossed his phone on the table with a clatter. “It’s fine. Better to know. I’ll look into it. Anything else?”

Bucky shook his head and took another bite of cookie. “Why do you go to these things if they are full of people you don’t like and apparently people who don’t like you?”

“Networking, mostly. Obligation. Gotta show my face every now and then. Spite,” he added with a smirk. “But it’s also a good reminder.” When Bucky made a questioning sound, he took another cookie from the box and nibbled the edge.  “Look, I was a rich asshole for a long time,” Tony said after a moment. “Too long. Then one day, I met a guy at a party. Don’t even know how he got invited because he wasn’t rich, wasn’t famous, he was just some doctor. And I don’t remember what I was saying, but at one point he looked at me with such pity,” Tony said, eyebrows drawing together. He studied his cookie like it was helping him remember. “I still remember his face. No one had looked at me with pity before, and he said, ‘Look at you. All this money and still you have nothing.’ And I was like, ‘excuse me? Do you know who I am?’ As you do, right, because I could have anything I wanted, I’m fucking Tony Stark. And he said, ‘Yeah, I know who you are. I’ve seen dozens of men like you. And despite all their money, all their fame, death came for all of them in the end, and they had nothing to show for it but a tacky tombstone.’” Tony bit his lip, frowning a little. “I’m sure I said something, but he just finished his drink and walked away, like I wasn’t worth his time. I wish I could say that I had this like, huge change of heart and changed my ways after that night, but it ended up being this gradual thing.”

Bucky realized he was staring. “What do you mean?” he asked, taking a bite out of the cookie he just remembered he was holding.

“Well, I looked him up later and found out he ran a free clinic downtown and on a whim I donated some money. Like, 'see what a good person I am, have some money.' Like I was proving him wrong somehow by doing that." Tony snorted and shook his head at the memory. "Anyway, doing that puts you on some kind of list somewhere, apparently, and one day I got an email about a runaway shelter. Then a food bank, then a refugee thing, and it kind of snowballed from there.”

“Wait, wait.” Bucky shook his head. “How did you go from ‘donating to a clinic’ to ‘mob boss over half of Manhattan’? That’s one hell of a snowball.”

“Well, after donating to a bunch of causes, I saw that a housing complex near all these nonprofits went up for sale, so I bought it,” he said with a shrug, fiddling with a napkin as he talked. He was already done with his cookie somehow, despite having done most of the talking.  He reached for another from the box and took a tiny bite. “I was kinda feeling like, I don’t know, tied to this area as I kept an eye on my pet projects. Then I started getting a bunch of complaints about the conditions and I was pretty fucking appalled at what I was seeing. Like, no one should live like that. It was a shame for rats to even be living there. So I fixed it up, and then I set up a trust for the building and gave it back to the tenants. All their rent goes in a fund, and they spend money on that fund to pay for what the complex needed.”

“Like a condo association?”

“More like a cooperative. They decide how much to charge everyone for rent, they decide if they want to spend money on painting the place or upgrading the light fixtures, you know, whatever. I think last time I checked they had put in a community garden. So when another came up for sale, I bought it, and then another, then I realized I might as well invest in some of the businesses here. After the fiasco of that first apartment building, I started looking at what I was spending my money on so I would know what to expect. Then when I was looking at a commercial building, people came in to shake down the owner of one of the businesses while I was there. Like, I was standing right there and those people didn’t give a shit who saw them. I was so surprised that I didn’t say anything until it was over, and then I asked the guy if that happened a lot. Can’t let that go on, you know, because...well, I mean, the owner looked so scared, and that made me mad because he's just trying to make a living, you know? Also, it cuts into the bottom line, so.” Tony shrugged again. “I put a stop to it. And then, well,” he gestured expressively around him with his cookie. “Like I said. Snowball.”

Bucky could only stare, bemused. If he had heard the same story on his first day of work, he might have been unable to keep from laughing in Stark’s face. But now…well, it was increasingly hard to square what the police knew – or thought they knew – about Tony Stark and what Bucky was seeing. “I guess no kid wants to be a criminal when they grow up,” Bucky said. “We all just kind of wander into it.”

“Yeah? Is that how you went from Bagram to Brighton Beach?”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to shrug, uncomfortable. After hearing Tony's story, he didn’t want to feed him some bullshit line from his cover story. “There’s only a few career opportunities for a grunt back home,” he said vaguely. “Even fewer that pay well.”

He glanced up to see Tony studying him thoughtfully. “Do you miss it?”

“The Army? Hell no.” That part was true enough.

“How about here? Are you happy here?”

Bucky’s mouth quirked. “Are you asking me about my job satisfaction? One means not at all satisfied, ten means highly satisfied?” He had the pleasure of watching Tony almost spit out a bite of cookie as he surprised a laugh out of him.

“Sure,” Tony said after a moment when he finished chewing. "One out of ten."

“Ten,” Bucky said truthfully. “I like helping people.” He had the traitorous thought that the past few months working with KT had been closer to what he'd thought it would be like to be a cop than what it had actually turned out to be like, and felt vaguely guilty.

“Yeah, me too.” 

They sat there in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a few moments before Bucky heard the ding of a notification on his phone. He silenced it without looking – his handlers were still yelling about the Policeman’s Ball – but sighed when he saw the time. “It’s getting late,” Bucky said reluctantly, more because it seemed appropriate rather than any desire to actually leave. He opened his mouth to say, I had a great time tonight and immediately felt like an idiot because, bare feet and half-eaten box of cookies aside, this wasn't, in fact, a date.

But apparently he wasn’t the only one who had lost the plot, because Tony said, “Would you like to come up for a dr-” before he cut himself off with a look of horror that would have been funny if Bucky hadn’t, deep down, wanted so badly to say yes. “I’ll call you a cab,” he said instead, looking away to grab his phone.

“I’ll wait outside,” Bucky said, and fled.

                                                ***

Tony watched from a window as Blue Eyes' taxi drove away, then as Tony went up the elevator to his penthouse condo he texted a sad face to Rhodey.

Told you it was a bad idea, Rhodey wrote back.

Don’t say I told you so. I’m sad, Tony responded.

You’re making yourself sad pining after an undercover cop. I don’t feel bad for you.

“That’s fair,” Tony said out loud. You should. I got you cookies and you’re being mean to me. Tony texted Rhodey a picture of the half-empty box of cookies and made himself sad all over again, remembering the intensity with which Blue Eyes had stared at the display of cookies when told to pick one, like it was a pop quiz that he was determined to pass.

Go to bed, Tones.

With a sigh, Tony tossed his phone on the bed and started peeling himself out of the monkey suit, setting the cufflinks he’d been wearing on his dresser as he threw the suit and shirt on the back of a chair to be dry cleaned. The problem was that tonight, like every night for the past few years, Tony was going to bed by himself. There had been a certain point where he’d realized that he’d tipped over from bending the rules, to breaking the rules, then to breaking the rules in a way that would get him put on lists written by people with badges, and at that point he’d realized that to bring anyone into his life was to put a target on them. The only way to avoid it was to not get close to anyone, but he’d done the one-and-done lifestyle and wasn’t interested in that anymore. It had been Pepper for a  while, because she was more than capable of protecting herself, but after a year she had gently but firmly told him that it wasn’t working for her, and that had been the end of it. Since then, there had been a few people that he thought maybe, maybe this one but in the end, they didn’t feel right.

Blue Eyes felt right. He knew it was dumb and he knew what Rhodey would say – star crossed lovers only exist in fiction, Tones - but as he slid between the sheets that night, he let himself daydream about it until he fell asleep.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

I have seen many, MANY discussions/debates about ca:cw and I have never seen anyone mentioning that Rhodey's injury was a metaphor. How did you get that idea?

Short answer: I’ve actually read a lot on the subject.  I’m teaching a media studies class right now called “What Can Superheroes Tell Us About Psychology?” (because that’s the kind of shit you can get away with at giant universities) and hoo boy are superhero narratives More Ableist Than Average.  Anywhoo, a few of those readings:

I’m quoting hard from the chapter “Hyper-Normative Heroes, Othered Villains: Differential Treatment of Disability in Marvel” in a book on disability studies because it’s free.  A relevant passage:

“These metaphorical portrayals all fail to engage with disability as a social category and as an individual identity, thereby ignoring its context… Nick Fury’s missing eye does not change his aim with distance weapons (e.g. Captain Marvel) or piloting software. Instead, it recurs in the films largely in metaphorical lines such as Fury’s commenting on the death of a friend with ‘I just lost my one good eye’… One character in Avengers even questions the lack of accessibility in Fury’s multi-monitor computer console, and Fury’s assistant simply answers that he must turn his head more often to compensate. The franchise thereby emphasizes that Fury’s missing eye is only a metaphor for his discernment and ability to see details that others have missed, rather than a truly integrated part of his character or even an accurate portrayal of that disability.

“8. This treatment of disability as metaphor persists throughout the MCU. In Captain America: Civil War, superhero War Machine incurs a permanent spinal injury while fighting on behalf of his best friend Iron Man. Later on, rival superhero Hawkeye… ‘You gotta watch your back with this guy. There’s a chance he’s gonna break it.’ The film then equips War Machine with a fantastical prosthesis that essentially nullifies his disabled experience through giving him the same range of motion as his non-disabled [abled] teammates, entirely without side effects or need for maintenance. The MCU films thus present disability as a metaphor for inner morality and characterization. War Machine has few experiences of being a disabled man through his spinal injury, but is instead emotionally ‘disabled’ by the damage to his social standing he has incurred through his friendship with Iron Man… The MCU thereby offers no critique of ableism or inaccessibility, instead continuing to localize disability as a problem with the body and the individual.”

Death, Disability, and the Superhero: The Silver Age and Beyond by José Alaniz is also a fantastic resource, and you can buy it for money here or hopefully find it at a library if you have no money.  A few of the relevant points from his book:

Superhero stories often treat disability as a “problem” that must be “solved” through in essence nullifying the disabled experience of the character(s) through superpowers that run directly counter to the disabilities and/or fantasy “cures,” e.g.

Daredevil is blind BUT navigates the world in a way similar to sighted people due to his “radar sense,” meaning that he doesn’t get to have a lot of the lived experiences of blind individuals

Don Blake is mobility impaired and uses a cane BUT his cane transforms into mjolnir and imbues him with the power of Thor, meaning that he spends most of the story moving like a nondisabled person

Hawkeye is hard of hearing sometimes in some of the comics, BUT he often gets magical cochlear implants from Tony Stark that cause him to stop being hard of hearing

Characters that are disabled and remain disabled tend to be villains whose villainy is either implied or stated to come directly from their bitterness over being disabled, e.g.

Doctor Doom hates that he’s scarred by an explosion so much that he wants to take over the world to get revenge on the Fantastic Four

The Lizard only transforms himself because he ignores all scientific and ethical boundaries in his desperation to stop being disabled

Doctor Poison is described by herself and other characters as a “monster” for failing to (unlike Wonder Woman) conform to White Western conceptualizations of female beauty 

Characters like The Thing, She-Hulk, and Bizarro have the potential for some really interesting disability narratives.  However, the same publication pressures that prevent permanent injury or death to the characters also prevent the inclusion of “serious” “real-world” issues like discrimination unless it’s metaphorical (e.g. anti-mutant fearmongering as a metaphor for anti-AIDS prejudice).

The Big Damn Foundational Text on the intersection of disability studies and media studies is Narrative Prosthesis: Disability and the Dependencies of Discourse by David T. Mitchell and Sharon L. Snyder, and you can pay money for it here but it’s also available at a lot of libraries.  Anyway, a couple of relevant points from that book include: 

Disability portrayals abound in literature going back to pretty much the dawn of history, but most of those portrayals suck ass because:

Most disabilities are treated as metaphors rather than demographic characteristics, which means that the disabled character doesn’t get connected to other people with disabilities (including those in the real world) and offers no commentary on ableism — if Richard III’s spinal misalignment is just a metaphor for him being “twisted” inside, it doesn’t allow readers with spinal misalignment to identify with him

Disabled characters tend to exist to teach lessons to nondisabled characters rather than having their own journeys — Tiny Tim isn’t a person in A Christmas Carol, he’s an object lesson for Scrooge

Many disabled characters either get “fixed” so that they look outwardly “normal,” or their “ugliness” is used to make concrete the abstract “ugliness” of their personalities

Disability is treated as a “problem” that demands an explanation – Captain Ahab’s prosthetic leg and Joker’s facial scarring are treated as automatically demanding the question “why are you like this?,” even though no one would ever ask the same thing of their nondisabled co-characters

Authors’ implicit ableism tends to come out in their horror of disability, such as when they portray disabled characters preferring death to disability, going to extreme lengths to avoid or nullify disability, and/or declaring themselves “worthless” or “burdensome” in light of disability

Discomfort with disability — another form of implicit ableism – also comes out when disabled characters are overwhelmingly “killed or cured,” meaning that they don’t get to end their stories as living individuals who are still, in practice, disabled

ANYWAY, that’s a long-winded way of saying that I also haven’t seen any critics specifically talk about Rhodey’s disability as a metaphor first and a part of the character second, but that that doesn’t mean the shoe don’t fit.  When someone asks about the Accords in Infinity War, Rhodey also says he supported them but then “I’m pretty sure I paid for that,” and gestures at his own paralyzed legs.  He also also says in Endgame “I wasn’t always like this… but we work with what we’ve got” when talking to Nebula, BOTH about the fact that he’s disabled and about the fact that half the universe is dead and they’re all struggling to cope with that fact.  It keeps getting used as a metaphor and keeps NOT getting used as a part of his identity.  LET THE MAN TALK TO SOME OTHER DISABLED VETERANS FOR TWO SECONDS, FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

A couple of other (free!) readings that talk about that general problem of “we love superheroes and we hate ableism, now what?” even if they don’t mention Rhodey specifically: 

“Reevaluating the Supercrip” by Sami Schalk connects media portrayals of the paralympics to media portrayals of Captain America and the Doom Patrol.  (I swear to god it makes sense in context.)

“Seven Roads to Justice for Superheroes and Humans” by Mikhail Lyubansky gets into the glaring (for me, anyway) question of “why the fuck are sci fi psychologists all so evil and useless?” by explaining why Harley Quinn must be evil for Batman to be a vigilante.

“Superhero Comics as Moral Pornography” by David A. Pizarro and Roy Baumeister (again, I swear it makes sense if you read it) discusses the evolutionary tendency to judge people based on disabilities and why it’s so popular in superhero stories specifically.

Anyway, you probably weren’t looking for an entire annotated bibliography in response to that question, but I’ve never been one to use five words when 500 would suffice.

[locke-writes]

End of the Year Faves!

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

Tagged By: @lxncelot & @moonlit-imagines (thank you both, this was so fun!)

Tagging: Any writer who’d like to! I’m ready to read what you’ve got to share!

In order from oldest to newest:

Things My Heart Used to Know - Frank Castle x Reader (Posted: May 8, 2020) - I’ve always loved writing for Frank Castle and I don’t know. I just had to write something using the song (Once Upon A December), the idea came to me. There was no real one point in this where I knew I was going to get through and I’m pleased that my rambling writing turned into this

Worry - Freddy Newandyke x Reader (Posted: May 21, 2020) - Reservoir Dogs is arguably one of my favorite fandoms to write for because the film itself leaves a lot open ended. It’s great to explore the various directions that you can take the characters and I wanted to use this piece as a way of exploring what would happen after the film

Bound - Tony Stark x Reader (Posted: July 13, 2020) - Ok this one just came to me. I had the ending idea before I’d even written the rest of the fic and it was more a matter of writing everything to get to the one scene I knew I just HAD to write

Imagine being in a long-term relationship with Malcolm and him telling you about Martin - Malcolm Bright x Reader (Posted: Aug 21, 2020) - So this says it was requested by Anonymous but it was actually something I wanted to write and felt guilty about posting since it wasn’t really requested. Oops. Anyway I was playing around with stuff for the Prodigal Son series rewrite and I wanted to explore another avenue where Malcolm has been seeing someone who doesn’t know about Martin. I’m not certain how realistic that would be but I like the concept of Malcolm getting to be open with someone who doesn’t care about his past and what caused Malcolm’s trauma, they just accept the trauma and want Malcolm to heal

Only Time Will Tell - Bucky Barnes x Reader (Posted: Aug 28, 2020 [that’s my birthday, hey!]) - This was something I’d been wanting to write for years but I’ve always felt guilty about posting things I wanted to write when I had requests that people were waiting on. This was the first year I really allowed myself to write for me and this was the first Follower Celebrated Content where followers vote on original ideas that I’ve collected over the years. Again this was always something I really wanted to explore and it was gratifying to see that others wanted me to explore the idea too

Becoming Whole - Aaron Hotchner x Reader (Posted: Sep 8, 2020) - Sometimes you’re just inspired to write something and nothing inspires me more than writing fluff for my favorite characters. What can I say, I just want Aaron to be happy and that’s all this was about.

Contemplate - Buddy (Baby Driver) x Reader (Posted: Oct 2, 2020) - Contemplate is the third in a series of personal fics that I’ve posted as a way of coping with certain things but all are connected by the same medical syndrome that I have (and don’t worry they can all be read as standalone pieces). I wrote this one because migraines fucking suck and I wanted some comfort shit with a favorite character.

Shattered - Arthur Curry x Reader (Posted: Nov 8, 2020) - Confession time: I wrote this the morning of Nov 8 and posted it the same day because I had been putting this off for a bit of time due to life stuff. I’m not certain what was originally written but halfway through I scrapped it and wrote this instead. I’m so glad I did. All I wanted to do was explore the real life aspects of being a member of the Justice League as well as ruler of Atlantis and what kind of toll that might take on someone’s personal life

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

For sentence prompts: "I'll always be on your team" starker 😊

I’ll Get You Up On Your Feet

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: General (G) Word Count: ~2.5k Notes: I’m not the biggest Noah Cyrus fan, but I thought of her song Team almost instantly. I kind of went from there - I hope you enjoy the cheeky fluffiness, nonnie! Warnings: None, it’s saccharine sweet, y’all.  Summary: 

Tony is used to the media blowing his name up. He’s dealt with it his entire life. Peter, on the other hand, is still adjusting. A nasty comment on a special picture gives Tony insight on Peter that he never had before. 

do the thing, send in all the prompts 

For the most part, Tony didn’t mind being a household name.

A lot of years, his name had a negative connotation connected with it – whether it was because of his weapons industry monopoly or the playboy portion of his notorious nickname, people turned their noses up at his name in the headlines.

His stint in the desert changed not only his perspective, but the general public’s, too. Everyone loved a good sob story, even if it came at the price of a bit of Tony’s sanity and the inherent safety he felt up until that point. Though the Iron Man suit brought him positive notoriety, Tony pursued the good he could do with it for purely selfish reasons. He survived the miserable conditions and all odds bet against him for a reason. That guided his moral compass.

Then, he met Peter Parker. At first, his interests were strictly on Spider-Man and the brilliance that Peter could create when behind the mask. Even in pajamas and pool goggles, he moved marvelously and got the job done without any hesitation. It became abundantly clear that with a good support system, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man could easily be a hero that the world needed.

Try as he might, Tony did not possess the strength to keep Peter away from the dangerous situations. Besides the fact that they needed the skill and intelligence he possessed, Tony was acutely aware of the truth that Peter did belong amongst them and his youth was not an exclusionary criterion. It couldn’t be – not when Peter understood what it was like to carry the world on his shoulders.

After Thanos, there wasn’t denying anyone’s worth – the entirety of the Avenger’s collective put everything they had into the plan, execution, and inevitable defeat of the biggest foe the world took on to date. From that point on, there was no point in trying to deny anything – especially when it came to Peter. The boy he met in the small apartment in Queens was no longer the youth Tony forced himself to categorize him as. It was easier to think of him as a kid than admit that so many things he saw in Peter were exactly what he was looking for.

Even though the realization came, Tony still felt a little hesitant. He offered Peter a position in his lab that equated to something full time in R&D while he went to school, so they were always around each other. There seemed to always be a power balance between them – one that, when the media got a whiff of, would be the highlight of the story; not the relationship that Tony knew they could have. Though, the more he thought about it, the easier it was to see that any relationship with Peter would be scrutinized – their history together was too deep.

Peter did not have the same qualms, however. Tony noticed the flirting when he first started working in the lab. It wasn’t subtle, though, he didn’t think Peter was trying to be. At 20, Tony remembered the ruthless way he went after the things he wanted – he recognized the hunger for that in Peter’s eyes almost instantly. Tony tried to resist it for as long as he could, but the siren call of a connection that just made sense couldn’t be fought. Especially when, in most circumstances, Tony was a hopeless mess that never picked the right fights.

At least Tony felt the satisfaction of finally making the first move. It was only a matter of time, the two of them were dancing around each other – Tony let himself lean into Peter’s touches more and when the dam broke, he pulled him in by the hips and pressed their lips together so tenderly. Peter’s gasp gave him just enough room to deepen it; and suddenly, the line was crossed.

Most of the people around them took to their relationship pretty easily. Of course, the team had a few reservations about objectivity, but with the way Tony was trying to take a step back from the actual battle part of the Avenger gig, it wasn’t too difficult to reassure everyone that missions would come first. When it was reasonable, at least. Though, Tony didn’t voice that to anyone but Peter. May wasn’t hard to convince once Peter was able to make her understand that the move was recent and that at 20, he was more than capable of making his own choices.

For the sake of actually enjoying things between them without the world’s opinion, Tony and Peter spent the first 2 years of their relationship keeping it on the way down low. They were plenty open in front of the team and around Happy and Pepper who were surprisingly supportive of the whole thing – but in public, Tony tried to keep the dopey smile off his face and worked exceedingly hard not to touch Peter, no matter how much he wanted to.

When Peter graduated college, Tony took things one step further between them and got down on one knee in the comfort of the sleek kitchen of Stark Tower. The dark tungsten of the ring looked good on Peter’s skin and immediately drew media attention when it was in pictures the very next day. It seemed like a good time to finally let the world know about the love that ran so deeply between them.

Of course, Tony’s worst fears showed their ugly head almost immediately. Every media outlet that ever wanted to say something bad about Tony decided to pick apart the entirety of their relationship – starting when Spider-Man joined the Avengers. It was a rough blow to the wall he created around the precious thing between him and Peter. They’d been in the dark hiding for so long, it took him a little while to adjust to the bright light of unrelenting cameras flashing and rumors being created just because.

He figured that letting a news outlet like People take care of the photography for their wedding would calm the craziness down a little bit. The entire thing was understated and highlighted who they were together as a couple. Peter smashed cake in his face, and they ended the night with the cheesiest walk under sparklers that were some of the hardest things to procure out of all the wedding supplies that ended up being necessary.

The photos were beautiful and the write up that went with it actually did justice to the sincerity of the relationship between him and Peter. It took the heat off of them for a little while – the cuteness and novelty of two of the world’s superheroes getting hitched sparked an entirely different discussion than the age different between two consenting adults.

That’s what he thought, anyway.

A couple weeks after coming back from their honeymoon, Tony found Peter on the couch looking at his phone with the grumpiest expression. The ache to rub the crease between his brows away settled in the tip of his fingers, but he ignored it, sitting on the cushion next to him instead. “What’s up, Pete?” Tony asked as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to his husband’s temple.

“Pepper told me not to ever look at the comments when I first joined up, you know?” Peter mumbled, his voice a little hoarse from the obvious emotion coursing through him. The question was rhetorical – that was rule number one when trying to keep ahold of sanity while constantly under public scrutiny. Peter knew that, too – but sometimes desire easily bypassed rational thinking.

“I put up the most beautiful picture from our wedding. The one where you’re gazing at me like I’m the greatest gift to the world. And I forgot – just for a second. That people suck.” Peter shrugged, the defeated gesture making his heart pang.

For the longest time, Peter didn’t want to sit in the limelight – Tony and the rest of the crew did what they could to make sure Peter’s identity remained a secret. It was enough to get him through high school and then another year or two through college before it got too hard to hide. Tony remembered the conversation they had about Peter taking the last step out of the dark vividly – even then, he’d been apprehensive. More than anything, Tony understood the mourning of his private life.

Wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder, Tony pulled him tightly against him, the shininess of the ring on Peter’s finger catching his eye – he still got a little giddy thinking about the look on his face when Carol pronounced them husbands. He grabbed up that hand and pressed a kiss to the ring and the knuckles surrounding it.

“It sucks, doesn’t it? Being under the microscope of people that don’t know you or anything about you or your life. The judgement of a populace that only gets news presented to them by people that have an agenda.” He bite down on all the other comparisons that wanted to flow out of his mouth – Peter got the point, he could see it in his eyes.

“What doesn’t suck, though, is the fact that you’re mine. Or the fact that despite what people want to believe, our relationship is built on a foundation that is unshakable and as pure as the carnality of a marriage can be. Fuck them, Pete. If I’ve learned anything, that’s all the really matters. We didn’t save the world to live within it half-assed. I love you. No one gets to take that away from me – or us.”

Peter leaned into him; the frantic nodding of his head felt against the solid part of Tony’s chest. He recognized strong arms circling around his middle, crushing him against Peter in a way that he’d grown familiar with over the years. His husband was so incredibly cognizant of the truth of his statements – Tony could tell by the silence that engulfed them, and the way he merely squeezed him tightly.

“You’re right, Tones. You’re right. It just got under my skin – the way people decided to disregard something that’s so real and pure and honest. I always want to defend you. Your character shouldn’t suffer because love for you came in the package of someone that’s younger. It’s grossly unfair,” Peter retorted, the huff in his breath making his voice come off pouty and the slightest bit childish.

It warmed Tony’s heart.

“Pete, the fact that you’re on my team is more than enough. I’m used to the outlandish things people want to paint me with. You’re all I need. Knowing that you don’t think those things, is the easiest way for me to stay firm and not care about what people think.” Turning a little, Tony grabbed Peter’s cheeks softly, his thumbs tracing the seam of Peter’s lips.

“I’ll always be on your team,” Peter whispered, his lips kissing at Tony’s thumb with every pass of the digit. “I love you, Tony.”

Tony leaned forward and pressed their lips together then, his eyes closing when Peter wrapped his arms around his middle and pulled him in closer. He still needed to go back to the lab and finish the latest experiment they were working on, but in that moment, it felt more important to keep Peter close and enjoy the fact that his husband loved him so damn much. Enough to be offended by the shit people said about him, to want to stand up and defend him for all he’s worth.

The unfortunate truth of the matter was, Peter would have to get used to it – Tony couldn’t escape his past or the fact that the people believed that he owed them a piece of himself. Of course, Tony didn’t need to throw that in his young husband’s face just yet; there’d be more than enough time for that learning lesson. Instead, he let Peter lead them through a deep kiss, their lips kiss swollen when the need to breath pulled them away from each other.

“I love you too, Pete,” Tony muttered against Peter’s lips, “but, I know you knew that already.” He pulled back and tossed Pete a beaming smile. A moment later, an idea slipped across the front of his mind and made the look on his face transform quickly from affection to mischief.

“Want to really say fuck ‘em?” he asked, getting up off the couch and pulling Peter with him.

He walked them down the hallway until they were outside of their bedroom – Peter quirked a brow at him but didn’t say a thing. Tony walked them forward until he was kicking off his shoes and crawling into the middle of the bed. “Come on,” Tony beckoned, his back flat against the mattress and arm spread open wide for Peter to settle in against his chest.

Peter, being the beaming baby that he was, didn’t hesitate to crawl into the space Tony left for him, his face settling into the nook of his husband’s shoulder. Tony wrapped his arm around Peter’s wide shoulders and pulled him close.

Getting his phone out of his pocket took a bit of maneuvering, but he finally did and fucked around with it until the camera was facing them. “Be extra cute, Petey,” Tony said, his voice soft as he lifted the camera above them. Wrapping Peter up and turning his head, Tony snapped a few shots – his thumb hitting the button over and over again.

Greedy hands took his phone from him before Tony could swipe through the different pictures he’d taken. It was all well and good – he and Peter both looked amazing in any pictures they ever took of each other or together. The prints from their wedding they decided to have put up a couple of days ago were proof of that.

A soft rush of air leaving Peter’s lips had Tony looking over, his eyes softening when he saw the picture that Peter was looking at. Tony’s lips were spread in a smile against Peter’s forehead. Peter’s eyes were closed and the expression on his face was absolutely blissful. His hand was on Tony’s cheek where the gleaming wedding ring was abundantly obvious. The natural way they fit together came through in the picture – there was no deny it.

“Put that one up. Force those shitty people to see just how good we are together.”

The vibration in his pocket a little while later had him pulling his phone out. Grinning when he saw the @PeteParkerStark Instagram notification and quickly went about pulling the post up. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh when he saw it – the little reminders of why Peter Parker Stark was his husband never failed to blow him away.

There, under the picture they’d just taken, was a caption that read – ‘fuck ‘em <3’.

[ugh-supersoldiers]

Under Oath - Final Part

Under Oath Masterlist

Characters: Bucky x reader

Summary:  The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY PLEASE, emotional bucky

Words: 4642

A/N: Wow. Okay I cannot believe this is coming to an end. Thank you to everyone who has encouraged this series. It’s only taken me a year and a half. This has been my first series fic which is nutso that its over. PLEASE REBLOG AND LEAVE FEEDBACK THANKS

-

Your heartbeat thumped in your ears as you took in a ragged breath when the judge made her way down the corridor. You rose, Bucky stood beside you, as the room fell silent in a quick hush.

You glanced at him. He was already looking at you with a knowing smile on his face. It was sad, but laced with adoration and love.

Bittersweet. It was the only feeling you knew with each other.

The deliberation had only taken a few hours which was either very good or unimaginably bad. You prayed it was good, it had to be good.

“Whatever happens,” He whispered, “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nodded your head, almost laughing out loud that he was comforting you.

“I know.” You replied.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?”

You head snapped back at the jury, watching the member closest to the judge stand with a paper in his hand.

“We have, your honour.”

No chance for a mistrial.

It was done, then. After only a few hours of deliberation, the jury had come to a unanimous verdict. Your eyes were locked on the piece of paper in the jury member’s hand, watching as his fingers shook with it. Your breathing became rapid and unsteady as you watched in slow motion as he unfolded the paper.

“On the 52 counts of murder in the first degree, over 100 recorded counts of conspiracy to commit murder, and on the count of treason against the United States of America how to you find?” The judge spoke, her voice fuzzy in your ears and barely reaching your brain.

You had done everything. You’d fought with everything you’d had for the man beside you - the man you loved desperately. You’d lost hours of sleep, cried tears you didn’t think you had to cry, felt heartbreak you never invited into your life to get to this point. You’d fought for him and he’d fought for you.

The paper was finally open, the creases still holding firm in the man’s ever shaking hands. You both watched as his mouth parted to speak the words.

Bucky’s heart stopped, the realization that he could lose the life you’d helped him build from nothing forever in an instant only now sinking in. He felt a tear come to his eye, but blinked it away. You were going to win, you had to win. 

“We find the defendant-” 

The man swallowed, as if afraid of the backlash of the verdict. It didn’t matter what he said, there would be outrage in either case.

Bucky waited with bated breath, closing his eyes and sucking in air, praying to anything that would listen for two words instead of one. Two words that would set him free and swing him into a life with you, a life with joy and happiness that he finally felt ready to live.

He heard your breath hitch, he knew you were close to crying, so close to breaking. He felt your hand snatch his, squeezing it hard. He squeezed it back as you both waited a split second longer until it was finally spoken.

I am worth saving, he thought, Please God, I see it now. I am worth saving. Let me be saved.

“Not guilty. On the grounds of mental defect, we find the defendant not guilty of all changes.”

The strangled cry that left Bucky’s mouth was music to your ears as the crowd behind your side of the courtroom burst into cheers of relief. 

Not guilty.

Your arms were around him in an instant, hugging him tightly in an embrace. He held you in a death grip, the sound of his sobs entering into your ear as you rubbed his back gently.

“We did it, Buck.” You whispered as tears came to your eyes, “We did it.”

“Order!”

The gavel banged against the hardwood as the judge tried to settle the courtroom that had erupted into a frenzy.

“Sergeant Barnes, I hereby declare that you will not face any further criminal proceedings for your past.” She said, “You are free to go.”

Free.

Bucky Barnes was beginning to love that word.

He felt like he could fly, his heart soaring as he held you tightly in an embrace. He wanted to run as fast as he could down the boardwalk and scream to the world that he was free. He wanted to go to the top of the ferris wheel at Coney Island and shout at the top of his lungs for no reason, just because he could.

As you slipped out of his arms, your eyes met his in a knowing stare.

“What now?” He asked as the crowd behind him got louder and louder again.

“Whatever the fuck you want, sweetheart.”

He was sure he could’ve kissed you right then and there, but the dozens of eyes on him burned a hole in his pocket. Not now.

“Let’s get the hell outta here.” He said with a smile. It was a real smile, one that you had rarely seen from him. His eyes crinkled up at the sides, nose scrunched, dimpled chin. It reminded you of the pictures from his youth that were clipped in his file.

You nodded your head, turning back to Tony who sat in the pew a few rows down, closest to the aisle.

With a small grin, you nodded at him.

Thank you.

Tony knew about your feelings for Bucky, he had for a while. From the moment he got wind of you taking Bucky back to your apartment to make him more comfortable when preparing his statement  he knew where it would lead, and it bothered him to no end at the beginning. But, like Bucky himself, your romance grew on Tony until it felt wrong to live in a world without it. He saw the changes in the ex Winter Soldier, he saw a want to live that he never thought he would see in him, and he knew it was you. 

His choice to testify, to bring up the past that he could’ve left buried, it was for Bucky. 

It was the final piece of the puzzle of reconciliation that they had been building ever since Tony had tried to kill him a few years back. Not that Bucky really ever blamed him for that.

Trust, like anything worth waiting for, had proven its meaning with time.

When you exited the courtroom with Bucky by your side, it felt like you could breathe for the first time in months, even with the mass amount of camera flashes and hollars from various news anchors.

You both walked, continuing your pace as the crowd surrounded you. Bucky didn’t really care about crowds anymore. They used to freak him out, but he was on top of world right now, he couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“Sergeant Barnes! Will this mean you’re going to retire from the avengers?”

“Sergeant! We heard from our sources that Tony Stark testified for the prosecution, do you have a statement?

“Sergeant Barnes! How do you feel?”

He stopped at the last one, his feet planting into the ground as he looked at the young reporter who held the microphone up to his mouth, a tape recorder in his hand.

“Free.” He whispered, a small smile on his face as he looked at you again. 

By the time you reached your car, the swarm had somewhat dispersed, the exit of Tony from the courtroom drawing a rival amount of attention as the stoic ex Winter Soldier.

It was an unspoken agreement to go back to your apartment. You both needed to feel each other’s kiss again, hear the words you were desperate to speak to one another.

His mouth was on yours before the lock even clicked shut.

Hot and desperate, his hands cupped your cheeks as he pushed you against the closed door. Open mouthed, he groaned when he felt your hand on his chest, the other fiddling with the band that held his hair up, yanking it out so his hair fell across his cheeks.

He’d missed your touch so much it was like a dream to be so close to you again.

He felt heat rush to his chest when your left leg wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer to your body. His right hand reached down to grab it and hold it in place, feeling the bareness of your thigh as your skirt rose up to your hips.

Bucky swore he almost dropped dead when he heard the noise that came out of your mouth when he pressed his hips into yours.

You loved the way his hands felt on your skin, the way he kissed you roughly but held you as if you might break. The gentleness that Bucky Barnes displayed when it came to you was something you could marvel at forever. 

He didn’t need to be gentle, anything he threw at you you could handle and he knew it. This wasn’t compulsory, no, it was a desire. He wanted to be gentle with you, to treat you properly, to love you softly.

Kicking off your shoes, Bucky couldn’t stifle the laugh that came out of his mouth as you dropped a few inches in height, but you pulled him back into the kiss quicker than he could poke fun. There was time for laughing later, right now you wanted him more than anything in the world.

His metal hand moved across your waist, the coolness causing goosebumps to appear across the delicate skin. When he reached the point where your skirt ended, he realized that it had ridden completely up, and as his fingers skimmed along the hemline of your lace panties he felt himself twitch in his pants.

His heart was racing, hands shaking as he moved to cup your ass firmly. You breathed in sharply at the contact, but sighed in affirmation to follow.

He briskly slipped his tongue into your mouth, and the kiss turned to clashing teeth and breathy moans faster than either of you could stop it. 

It took a new turn however, when he felt your teeth sink into his bottom lip, tugging and sucking at it for a moment before releasing it back to him. He couldn’t help but open his eyes, to watch as you looked at him with lust drowning out your irises and kiss swollen lips. 

Bucky watched the way your chest rose and fell heavily, and placed a hand on the side of your face gingerly. His facial expression softened, the sight of you leaning into his touch warming his heart as you placed a gently kiss to his palm without breaking his stare.

“I love you.”

He watched as your eyes welled, the large smile that painted itself onto your face causing tears to spill from your lashes at his words. The words you’d been waiting for him to say.

“I love you too.”

He pinned his forehead against yours for a moment, savouring how perfectly the words sounded coming from your mouth. God was he glad he was the one who got to hear them.

By the time your lips touched his again in a soft kiss, he was picking you up, making you giggle as you wrapped your legs around his waist and let him hold you up by your ass.

Walking to your bedroom, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him like your life depended on it. Every ounce of passion you couldn’t give him before, every sleepless night wondering if he was okay, every time you’d ever wanted to hold him at night when a nightmare shook him awake, but couldn’t. 

When his knees hit the bed, he lowered you down onto the mattress and took a moment to really look at you.

Your breasts were pushed up in the position you laid down in, skirt still risen at your hips, your black panties on full display for only him to see. You laid there, his for the taking, and his brain was eating away at him with nerves.

When you sensed his hesitation, you bend upwards, taking his tie in your hand and pulling it towards you. As his body slowly moved closer, you leaned back again, connected only at the lips until he was fully on top of you.

Bucky shuddered at the feeling on being seating between your open legs. You felt so warm, so inviting, but he was scared.

He hadn’t done this in over 75 years.

“I want you.” You whispered in his ear as he moved to kiss your neck. Hot open mouthed kisses, nipping and sucking at the skin every now and again. He had you squirming under him despite himself.

Your reassurance was enough to give him the confidence to grind his hips into yours, using his body weight to his advantage. You threw your head back and moaned out loud at the delicious feeling of how hard he was for you under his dress pants.

 Bucky was sure he’d cum in his pants if you kept making those sounds.

He continued his assault on your neck and chest, reaching to undo the buttons of your blouse one by one, each time covering the newly exposed flesh with a needy kiss.

When he reached the hem of your skirt, you arched your back and allowed him to undo the zipper at the back before he maneuvered it off of your body as you shrugged the sleeves of you shirt off.

Bucky took the opportunity of your position to unclasp your bra from behind you, gently peeling it away from your body and tossing it across the room.

Once again he found himself standing at the foot of the bed, staring at how perfect you looked, now clad in only your panties Bucky was salivating at the sight of your full breasts now on display.

“Well, Sergeant Barnes,” You mused and cocked your head at him, “I’d say your slightly overdressed for the occasion.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N),” He replied as he loosened his tie and removed it from his neck to discard it on the floor, “I think you’re quite right.”

You watched with bated breath as he began to unbutton his dress shirt at an agonizingly slow pace. You would have assumed it was for effect if you didn’t know him better. His nerves were contagious, you could see the fear hiding behind the masculine features of his face.

So when you sat up on your knees in front of him and locked him in a smouldering kiss, you removed his shaking hands from his shirt and replaced them with your own. Never breaking the kiss, you undid every button, and when his skin was revealed from the opened front you were desperate to touch him. 

You ran your hands up his abdomen, feeling the hard muscles tense under your fingertips as you trailed upwards to his chest. You felt his shoulders rolls back when your palms rested on his pecs for a moment, before carving their pathway along his collarbones, moving his shirt over his shoulders until a sharp inhale from his mouth caused you to stop.

He was met with your doe-like eyes, confusion lacing your gaze for a moment until you looked to where you hand was on his left side. You had brushed - barely grazed - the scar, but it caused Bucky’s heart to lurch into his throat.

Your hand pulled away slowly, tentatively, and Bucky was terrified as he felt your eyes burn into his flesh. You had seen the arm, but never the scar from where it came from, the ugly mangled flesh that he never wanted you to lay your eyes on.

A choked cry escaped his mouth when he felt your touch on him again, moving the sleeve until it was removed completely from his arm. You repeated the same action with his right side, leaving his top half exposed.

His torso was covered in intricate scars. Some were deep and jagged, some round from bullets you assumed, and some were small little knicks that might have healed if they’d been treated properly. He hadn’t been treated properly in far too long.

“You’re beautiful, Bucky Barnes.”

His welling eyes snapped down to look at you as confusion swam in his irises almost like he was waiting for a second half of the sentence that would somehow undo the first. But of course, there was no second half.

You smiled up at him and reached to wipe away the tear that had fallen from his right eye, standing on your knees to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Your fingers traced back down to the scar again, the one he was most insecure about. Bucky shuddered when you gently trailed down it vertically.

He felt the way your lips pressed kisses that moved downward on his body. First his cheek, then his jaw, the column of his throat, the curve of his neck, the bridge of his shoulder, until you were kissing the tender flesh that connected his arm to his body.

He sighed at the contact, no one had touched the scar so delicately in the time it had existed, and his heart soared at the feeling of you being the one to deliver such a sweet gesture.

“I love all of you,” You whispered into his skin, “Every single piece of you.”

His breathing was erratic, pulse pounding in his ears as you spoke words meant only for him.

“I’m not here to pick and choose, I’m here for all of you. Good days,” You pecked the scar again, “And bad. Dreams,” Another kiss, “And nightmares. Right arms,” A final kiss, your mouth lingering for longer this time, “And left ones too.”

You looked up at him again, and he could only stare at you in awe. You had seen the parts of him that he hated more than anything else, you’d watched the way his brain worked, you’d seen his hatred, you’d picked up the pieces when he tore himself down. You saw everything and still looked at him like he was an angel.

Because, to you, he was.

Like the ice he had abandoned long ago, he felt his inhibitions melt away from his body. As if his brain was snapping him out of a daydream he had been trapped in for far too long. The vignette was lifting from the corners of his vision and he was seeing everything now for how it truly was. 

He was free from the threat of persecution - he was free from himself more than he ever had been. And he was here with you - the most perfect woman he had ever met who had nearly sacrificed everything to keep him safe. He was in love, something he never thought he was capable of doing, and he was looking at your nearly bare figure and doing absolutely nothing about it.

His motion was so fast, that by the time you ended up on your back the only thing you could register was the feeling of his hot mouth on your neck and his hands roaming your body.

Your fingernails scratched down his back as he sucked, forming bruises for later on your throat. When he began kissing down your shoulder and chest, you could hardly contain your excitement.

He sucked a nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling slowly and drawing a lewd moan from your lips. He kneaded your other breast in his hand, squeezing gently before switching sides with his mouth.

His mouth moved down your stomach, stopping to press a kiss directly below your belly button before his tongue poked out to trail down to the hem of your panties that you were sure were absolutely soaked through.

He grabbed them in his teeth, pulling them down your hips and legs before throwing them into the dark of the room.

Instinctually, you went to close your legs, but he was quicker. His left hand reached between your knees, gently prying them open again so he could see you. He sucked in a breath at the sight of your core glistening in the soft light and the knowledge that he did that.

A burning desire to taste you came as sudden as it did intense. His head was between your thighs so fast, you could see stars. He held nothing back, like his very life depended on the pleasure he was giving you with his tongue. He licked deeply into your core, spelled his name with his tongue onto your clit, anything to keep you making the sounds you were. 

Your hands went to his hair, brushing it away from his face and tugging at it gently, causing him to moan into you. The vibrations from his voice had you crying out in ecstasy as he continued to relentlessly eat you out.

You moaned his name like a prayer, praising him as he pleasured you like no one else. His finger that rested on your thigh moved to gather the moisture that you’d both created, his tongue moving off for a moment causing you to whine at the loss of contact. The pad of his thumb traced a circle on your clit slowly, making your back arch upwards. Bucky’s mouth pressed a kiss to your stomach in reply before he plunged two fingers into your aching pussy.

You nearly screamed at how good it felt as he pumped in and out of you. Bucky marvelled at how warm you were, how wet you were for him. He wanted to bury himself deep inside of you.

“You’re perfect.” He breathed out as you moaned for him again, walls tightening around his moving fingers signalling you were close to your release. God, he wanted to see how beautiful you looked when you came. And he did.

You clamped down on his fingers, and he watched as you squirmed and cried as you came around him. As your ecstasy faded, he removed his fingers and sucked them clean. With hooded eyes, you watched the lewd action, how his tongue swirled to clean off the mess you had made from his skin. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

Bucky yelped when you tackled him back onto the mattress, straddling his waist and kissing him. Hard.

You could feel his solid length against your bare core and you yearned to have him inside of you, but not yet.

You moved to rest between his legs, running your hand over his clothed cock and marvelling at the way his head fell back with a groan at your touch.

Your lips pressed hot kisses along his adonis belt, under his belly button and right above the button of his pants that were straining to keep his length at bay. You popped them open, pulling at the zipper and yanking his pants down along with his boxers until he wore nothing.

It must have been the most beautiful sight, him naked in front of you. 

Your eyes met for a moment, and his stare was enough to make you feel your wetness begin to pool again. But behind the lust that swallowed his features, there was a softness in his gaze, one that he held just for you.

His eyes fell closed again when he felt your lips wrap around his tip and softly sucked.

He never thought of himself as a vocal man in bed, but you played him like a beautiful instrument, his cries of pleasure a symphony.

You took him deeper into your mouth, using your hand on his shaft to accommodate for his size as you bobbed your head. 

He was seeing stars, his head spinning as he hit the back of your throat. His eyes rolled back into his head at the feeling. No woman had really ever done this, at least not well, and he was at mercy to you as a result.

He could feel his abdomen tightening, the coil burning tightly in his stomach that meant his finish was near.

“(Y/N).” He choked out, a hand on your face as you released him from your mouth, “Gotta feel you, baby. Please.” He almost begged.

He needed you. Intimately, lovingly, passionately. He wanted to make love to you and pour every feeling that he couldn’t express with words into his actions.

You crawled up his body, legs spreading to either side of his hips. He watched you closely, mesmerized by how gorgeous you looked from this angle. You were lining him up with your entrance, but before you sank down you looked at him deeply before leaning down to kiss him one more time. As your lips moved against one another as you sank down onto his length, each letting out a moan in tandem at the feeling as you fell apart for each other. 

His cock stretched your tight walls, causing him to twitch inside of you.

“Fuck.” He cursed as he held you close to him, not ready to move yet, the feeling of you around him still too intense.

You raised your hips slowly, allowing his hands to help lift you before you lowered yourself again, making him cry out your name. In all your life you’d never heard a more beautiful sound.

Your movements continued, raising and sinking down again on him. Moaning out as his cock reached your g spot with every stroke.

His eyes had remained closed until he felt your palm on his cheek, making his lashes flutter open to see your loving gaze. He wasn’t sure what snapped inside of him when he saw the tears in your eyes, but he was moving to have you under him as quickly as he could. He needed to be in control, he needed to feel you breathing under him, he yearned to be the cause of your release.

He pressed you into the soft silk, pinning your arms above your head with his left hand as he began to pump into you at a desperate pace, like he may never get to again.

His moans became pants, yours cries and he fucked you into the mattress with a passion that he didn’t know he had.

“Bucky.” You breathed, his lips silencing you as his pelvis hit yours with every sharp thrust.

“I love you.” He cried, “So much. I love you so much.”

His forehead was against yours, eyes boring into you as he felt you clench around his length. He watched as the tears he’d seen collect on your lashes fall to the sides, releasing your arms to wipe them away with his metal fingers.

“Let go,” You whispered, “Bucky, I have you. Just let go.”

I have you.

In an instant, your back arched up, pressing your chest against his as your orgasm washed over you. The feeling of your walls clamping on him caused his own release to come with a fury, strings of ‘I love you’s falling from his mouth in incoherent slurs as he emptied himself into you.

He had never felt more alive then when he collapsed onto you, breathing heavily as he felt you panting underneath him. The sweat from your skin made your bodies stick together, not that either one of you cared.

“I love you too.” You breathed in a whisper as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, “I love you too.”

He rolled over to your side, pulled you impossibly close to him, holding you in his arms like he’d been wishing he could for so long.

No more words were spoken, the only sounds echoing in the room were gentle kisses to exposed skin and heavy breaths that evened out as he slowly fell asleep.

Finally free.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 6: A New Hope

by @dracusfyre

A week or so later, Bucky met KT up for their usual shift and was surprised to see that the normally taciturn man was visibly excited, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited. “What’s up?” Bucky asked, curiosity driving him to jog across traffic to see what had KT so worked up.

“It’s Community Appreciation Day,” KT said, jerking his head towards Tony’s garage a few blocks away. His legs were shorter than Bucky’s but excitement was making him walk fast enough that Bucky had to make an effort to keep up.

“Community Appreciation Day?” Bucky repeated incredulously. "What is that?"

"What does it sound like, doofus?" KT said, but he was in too good of a mood for his words to have any heat.

Bucky shook his head. Of course Tony had community appreciation days. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if Tony had an EEOC office and regular OSHA inspections and celebrated Office Professional's Day. "I'm just surprised I hadn't heard of it before now."

“Yeah, they're usually on real short notice. The Engineer brought in a shipment late last night so the Boss spread the word that we were having a party.”

Now Bucky was even more confused. He knew from the case file that the Engineer ran Tony’s chop shop operations, stealing high end automobiles and helping them disappear, whole or in pieces, on the black market. What that had to do with appreciating the community Bucky had no idea; it’s not like Tony was giving away the cars he stole…right? 

When they nodded to Tony’s guards and pushed open the door to the garage, Bucky’s jaw dropped. In the wide open space, where there was usually a variety of half-built classic cars, there was instead half a dozen sleek, low slung cars that looked like they were breaking the speed limit just sitting there. He recognized the logo for Ferrari and Lamborghini but the rest he’d never even heard of before. Most of them had their hoods up for car enthusiasts to drool over the high-performance engines and Bucky felt his heart start to beat faster as he left KT behind to look at the Lamborghini. He hadn’t really had his hands on a car engine since he joined the Army, other than doing his own routine maintenance, but looking at the ridiculously high-powered engine on this car was like seeing the face of God.

“Look at you, you sexy beast,” Bucky murmured, running a hand over the gleaming engine block. It was like it had barely been driven, it was so clean. “You’re sex on wheels, that’s what you are.”

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just really into cars?”

Bucky turned and his heart flipped when he saw Tony smiling at him, wearing a suit with an AC/DC shirt underneath. Tony pushed his glasses up onto his head and leaned his hip on the car’s bumper, hands in his pockets as he studied Bucky with what looked like fond amusement. “This thing is like the Mona Lisa of cars,” Bucky said, feeling strangely shy. This was the first time he’d seen Tony since the night of the ball and he suddenly, stupidly, wished he had shaved and worn his nice jeans.

“This one is nice,” Tony agreed, “but that one is my favorite.” He gestured with his chin towards the bright red Ferrari across the room, scissor doors opened up and away from the car like fiery wings.

“I can see that, it’s definitely your style.”

“Follow me, one came in that I think is your style,” Tony said, pushing off the car.

“Yeah?” Bucky was intrigued and flattered as Tony led him through the crowd of people. “Which one- Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker,” he blurted when they stopped in front the most goddamn beautiful car he’d ever seen.

“The Bugatti La Voiture Noire,” Tony said, but his eyes were on Bucky’s face, not the car. “0 to 60 in 2.5 seconds, with 1,180 pounds of torque. Top speed of 261 miles an hour.”

Bucky whistled, long and low. “It looks like the Batmobile,” he said, smiling when he surprised a laugh out of Tony. “If a ninja was a car, it would be this car.”

Tony started to say something, but at that moment came the sound of someone tapping on a microphone. “Hello?” Bucky heard someone say. “Mr. Stark, are you ready?”

With an apologetic glance to Bucky, Tony jogged up to where they had made a makeshift stage out of a metal table. Tony climbed on top and took the microphone. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes as his grin grew wide and polished. “Are you ready for everyone’s favorite day of the quarter?” The crowd, which had quieted and turned to face Tony, cheered. “I know, me too. As you can see, there are six cars, so there will be six MVPs named today. As your name is called, winners, come up to take a bow and tell us which car you will be taking for a test drive before they all move on to their new owners.”

“That’s the reward?” Bucky said with surprise to no one in particular. “You get to drive the cars? Where?”

“The Boss rents out a racetrack,” the guy next to him said. “You get to drive it for thirty minutes. Or you can just take the cash prize, if you aren’t interested in the cars or don’t know how to drive.”

“Let’s take a minute to get to know our guests,” Tony was saying. “The sexy red beauty is a Ferrari LaFerrari, a lame name for a nice car. This particular one used to be owned by Mark Zuckerburg, purchased for $1.4 million with the proceeds of selling Facebook user data to over 150 companies. Proceeds from its resale is going to the Free Internet Project.” There was enthusiastic applause, then he gestured towards the Bugatti. “This fucking amazing car is a Bugatti La Voiture Noire, the most expensive car on the planet at $18 million. Jeff Bezos commissioned this car even as workers in Amazon warehouses were passing out from exhaustion while working for minimum wage. Proceeds from the sale of this pinnacle of human engineering will go to help Amazon workers unionize for better working conditions.” Each car in the warehouse had a similar story, and Bucky couldn’t help booing and cheering with the crowd as he heard each story.

“But enough of those assholes,” Tony said, waving for the crowd to get quiet. “Let’s hear about our heroes. First is Harley Keener, who has worked tirelessly to set up our own free neighborhood broadband using satellite dishes he made himself; it’s making ISPs in the city big mad, as the kids say, but we’ve got higher and more consistent speeds than they provide so they can suck it, right? It’s not like they were laying fiber here anyway.” As he spoke, a teenager came up and Tony gave him a hand to help him climb onto the table. There was applause, and the kid picked the Lamborghini, and hopped down off the table with a check and a certificate from the Maria Stark Foundation. The rest of the projects were in the same vein: a woman who set up a program to encourage stores and restaurants to donate excess food to soup kitchens and shelters to reduce food waste ("I know it's against the law, but it's a stupid law so we've elected to ignore it"); an older Black man who got the city to put in new solar-powered bus stops at safer and more convenient locations; and a principal who had a 100% graduation rate for the first time in the school’s history, among others. “And every senior was registered to vote as they got their diploma,” Tony added. “Great work, everyone! Winners, I’ll see you soon for your test drives, and for everyone else make sure you eat all this food, boxes are at the end of the table for you to take some home.” There was another round of applause, the biggest one yet, as Tony handed the microphone to Happy and climbed off the table.

“You’re just a regular Robin Hood, aren’t you?” Bucky said when Tony found him again, this time holding a plate full of chicken wings, donuts, and assorted fruit. “Stealing from the rich to give to the poor?”

“I like to think of myself as an instrument of poetic justice,” Tony said around a mouthful of food. “I used to steal them and wreck them, but I realized this was more fitting.”

Bucky knew he shouldn’t be quite so amused about six counts of grand – very grand – theft auto, but it was hard not to smile at the smug look on Tony’s face while he had powdered sugar in his goatee.  As someone pulled Tony away with a question, Bucky felt his phone buzz with a notification. He moved closer to the wall as he pulled it out to check his messages.

Gonna be a party tonight, his Discord contact had written, along with an address. A very familiar address, since he was standing right at it. You gonna be there?

Bucky stared at the message and sagged against the wall as his stomach sank. Glancing up at the cars, he realized that the police must have gotten a tipoff that the cars were incoming and were planning to raid the garage tonight, before they disappeared again. The message wasn’t an invitation, it was a warning for him to stay away so his cover wouldn’t get blown. “Shit,” he said, and wiped a hand over his face as he thought furiously.   

“What’s up?” Tony asked, licking wing sauce off his fingers. “You look like you got bad news.”

Bucky stared at him for a moment and realized that there was no way he was going to let Tony get arrested, no way he was going to let him go to jail or let his name get dragged through the mud and see everything he'd built get torn apart by rival gangs. “Want to go on a date?” he blurted.

Tony’s face went slack with shock. “A date?” He blinked at Bucky for a long time, mouth quirking, before his face suddenly fell. “I can’t. You’re an employee,” he said regretfully.

“Seriously?” This guy, for crying out loud. “Ok, uh…” Bucky thought fast. “What about an employee counseling session? With food? We can talk about my, um, five year career plan.”

“Five year plan.” Tony stared at him with amused disbelief. “Ok, sure. Let’s do some employee counseling. When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Tony repeated, clearly fishing for an explanation but Bucky couldn’t think of a good one so he just shrugged. “Alright,” he said slowly. “Far be it from me to discourage people from having life goals. Let’s say 8:00?”

“Sounds great,” Bucky said, trying and probably failing to keep the relief out of his voice.

“Ok, I’ll pick you up.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Bucky stood around awkwardly for a moment, then nodded stiffly and walked away. If he was going to have an identity crisis and second guess every decision he’d made in life that had led to him asking an organized crime boss out on a date, he should probably do it in privacy and hopefully get it done with by 8.

Baffled, Tony watched Blue Eyes hurry away, running the conversation over in his head until suddenly realization dawned. Then he found himself smiling so widely his cheeks hurt; joy was like champagne bubbles in his chest, making him want to laugh for no particular reason. He tossed his half-empty plate of food into the closest trashcan and threaded through the crowd until he found Rhodey leaning against the door, typing something one handed into his work tablet.

“Rhodey,” Tony said, beaming.

“Tony,” Rhodey said, looking up warily.

“Blue Eyes wants to have dinner with me. And it has to be tonight.”

Rhodey frowned. “But tonight is-”

“Exactly.”

Rhodey took one look at the beatific look on Tony’s face and started shaking his head. “Tony, no,” he said in warning.

“Tony, yes. He’s trying to protect me, Rhodey.” Tony felt downright giddy.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! He knows the police are going to raid the garage tonight and he doesn’t want me here when it happens so I don’t get arrested for possession of stolen property. It’s so goddamn romantic I can’t stand it.” Brooks, or whatever the hell his real name was, couldn’t know that Tony had contacts inside every major law enforcement organization operating in the city and had known about the raid almost as soon as they had applied for a warrant. The stolen cars were already being prepared to be moved to a separate location, and in their place were going to be the exact same models all purchased legally and in Tony’s name. Pepper and her army of lawyers had already prepared righteously indignant press releases and harassment lawsuits and were just waiting for the cops to show up. Tony had even picked his outfit for his brief stint in jail, but apparently now he had other plans for the evening. “You know what this means, right?”

“I know what you think it means, Tony, and I still think you should be careful. He is still a cop.”

Tony planted a loud, smacking kiss on Rhodey’s cheek. “You can’t take this from me, sour puss. I might get to keep Blue Eyes after all!”

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Not Us

Inspired by the latest Endgame trailer.

I know that I can’t do justice to the whole Tony-Steve relationship mess with one 1.7k-word fic. I’m not even trying. Imagine this as part of a larger project that may or may not ever be written. Let’s pretend for this one that Pepper and Rhodey died in the snap or are otherwise indisposed. It contains illness and might be a bit sad (very very light suicidal TW for the last paragraph).

A million thanks to @whumphoarder for beta-reading.

Steve remembered the way his heart had been pounding in his throat when the spaceship first landed in front of the compound. How they’d all run outside and then stopped as if on command, torn between hope and dread at what awaited them.

What they’d seen when the ship finally opened its gates was somewhere in between the best and worst case scenarios. Tony was alive, albeit barely, dragging himself down the ramp with the help of a robot girl, his eyes looking through all of them as if they were just another group of ghosts that haunted him.

He’d spent a few days in the medical unit, just enough to get out of the danger zone that dehydration and malnutrition had brought on. He and Scott Lang had started to work on a plan the moment he was strong enough to hold a tablet. He’d gotten down to the workshop as soon as he could walk again, silently daring anyone to try and stop him. He still looked ill, desperately thin under the clothes that were so oversized they seemed to belong to someone else, and heavily favoured his left side while walking, aching from the remainders of an injury he wouldn’t allow anyone to tend to.

Some people move one. But not him.

Steve would never know the details of what had happened on Titan, having to make do with the bits and pieces Bruce and the others slipped him, although he was sure even they would never get to hear the full story. There had been a boy with Tony, they said, a child that Steve remembered blurrily from the battle in Leipzig as extraordinarily strong and a bit too talkative, a child that hadn’t returned to earth. But whatever had happened, it was clear that it had shaken Tony to his core, changed him to someone Steve hadn’t thought he possibly could become.

The early mornings at the compound had always been Steve’s alone to jog and quietly read the news upon return, to watch the sunrise without another soul around. But nobody could sleep nowadays.

Sometimes he’d meet Bruce in the kitchen, making tea with the calm, habitual movements of an old man, but the circles under his eyes would betray another sleepless night. Natasha was often found in the common room, silently staring out the window, as if looking out for someone who would never return. Sometimes Steve sat with her, the shared silence as comforting as anything could be these days. Sometimes it was too much to bear, and one of them would leave after minutes without speaking a word.

Some people move one. But not them.

One time at dawn he’d found Tony on the couch, thrashing and turning in the grip of a nightmare, an overturned scotch bottle on the ground speaking of how he’d tried to drown his thoughts the night before. Steve hadn’t dared to wake him, had stood silently, and, when the moans had become too frantic, had turned on his heels and called Bruce to intervene.

Tony was of course not the only one suffering from nightmares. Steve had never slept as badly as he did these days. Sometimes the dead came back to life. Then Bucky stood next to him, both of his arms made from flesh and blood, a smile that hadn’t been seen in decades hanging on his lips when he looked at Steve. Sometimes Sam was there too, circling high above them like the falcon that gave him his name. These were the nights when Steve would wake up with tears on his cheeks, when he would give anything to stay in that world the dreams opened up for him.

More often though, it was the living who’d step over into the world of the dead, the few souls that still meant something to him taken away at last. Natasha’s hair was always red when she died, nearly the same colour as the blood spreading rapidly beneath her body once it hit the ground. Sometimes Steve was the one who couldn’t save her. Sometimes he was the one who pulled the trigger.

They all were broken beyond repair, but the change was most obvious in Tony. The man’s unlimited energy was still there, but now it was of a dark, destructive nature that seemed to entail despair. The sparkling of creativity that had brought so many inventions to life had transformed into a mad, raging fire that everyone knew would leave him burned out and hollow at the end. He wouldn’t sleep, hardly ate a thing, and talked much less than he used to. His jokes, as rare as they were now, had gone from good-natured irony to stinging cynicism.

Even in the worst periods, Tony Stark had been a man who enjoyed life, who wanted to survive just for the sake of living. Now it was different - Steve felt that all that kept the man going was the determination to bring back the ones they’d lost, that the moment this would happen, he’d crumble to earth without anything left to force him into getting up again.

Two weeks after the landing, Tony started coughing - a cracking kind of noise that sounded painful and dry. Bruce tried to talk him into getting checked out by the only doctor left at the compound, fearing he might have caught pneumonia after the long period of isolation in space. But Tony refused with the same stubbornness he’d refuse to eat and rest, ignoring the way the cough slowly turned into a wet rattling deep in his chest.

The worry creased in Bruce’s face became permanent, nothing left of the gleaming hope that had sparked in all of them when the spaceship had first shown up on their radar. It was only reluctantly that he left with Nat when the first message of Clint’s whereabouts reached them. Tony, looking sweaty and flushed, essentially forced them out of the door. The moment they were gone, he vanished back into the workshop without another look at Steve.

Steve was in the gym the next night, trying to chase away depression with the pain that would only come from hours of working out, when Scott entered without knocking.

“You need to get downstairs,” he stated without a greeting, “I think Stark’s having a panic attack.”

“What?” Steve frowned, caught off-guard, “I don’t think I’m the right person to -”

“No one else is here, unless you count that robotic girl who’s currently taking apart her own leg in the swimming pool. Look, I don’t care what happened between the two of you. I’m here to bring back my family, not to deal with Tony Stark’s PTSD. You’ve got much more experience with this kind of stuff, and you’ve known him far longer.”

So Steve had gone.

The lab still smelled like it used to, but it seemed larger and darker without robots whirring around and with a distinct lack of rock music blaring from the speakers.

Tony was pressed into the small gap between a cupboard and a workbench, trembling and drawing in small, flat breaths in quick succession. He was staring into space with wide open eyes, their darkness in stark contrast to his otherwise ghostly white face. It was clear from a mile away that he was running a fever, the glassy eyes and beads of sweat above his brows betraying the illness even before Steve could feel the heat coming off him in waves.

“Tony?” he asked in a forcibly calm voice while kneeling down a few steps away, knowing better than to touch him.

There was no reply except a sucked-in breath that made Tony’s lungs rattle. The distressed look on his face morphed into outright panic when the air didn’t reach its intended destination. His frail hands clutched at his chest in a useless attempt to force oxygen inside.

“Tony. It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re at the compound, in New York, remember?”

Tony sucked in another mouthful of air, setting off a coughing fit that had him doubling over in pain. His head hit the workbench in the process, and maybe that was what made him snap out of it. When he looked up, there was a bit of recognition in his eyes.

“What-What the fuck are you doing here?” he croaked.

“You’re sick, Tony. You need to-”

“You’ve got no idea what I need, Rogers. And no right to tell me what to do.“

“You’re angry. Fine, I understand. But Tony, you haven’t talked to me-”

He was cut off by Tony descending into another coughing fit that had his whole body shaking. He wheezed and retched, hacking up strings of red-tinged phlegm that stained the collar of his shirt.

Steve put a hand on his back, reflexively trying to ease him.

“Get off me,” Tony gasped, his voice full of spite, but when Steve looked at him, his face conveyed pure terror. It was the same look he’d had in Siberia, when Steve had smashed the arc reactor instead of his head, ending the fight. Ending everything else that had ever been there in between them.

“Okay.” Steve backed off. Tony was taking rattling breaths, his eyes half-shut, looking like he was having a hard time staying conscious.

“I’m… I should leave, I think. I’ll ask Scott to help you to your room,” Steve said quietly.

But he didn’t move, the clouds of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air, paralyzing him.

In the end, it was Tony who broke the silence.

“Why us, Steve?” he slurred deliriously. “Why did we survive, while the ones who deserved to live had to go?”

“I don’t know,” Steve replied, all the sadness of the world caught in his voice. “I always thought that there was justice in what was happening in the world, a deeper sense to why we’re here. But now I think it’s all just madness.”

“What will we do?” Tony asked, desperately. “What will we do if we can’t get them back?”

“We have to.” There was only one reply Steve could give, the only one he’d ever had.

Some people move one. But not us.

Steve leaned forward, laid a hand on the other man’s bony shoulder, feeling the heat pulsating through his shirt. Tony looked up at him, sick and defeated and lost, frantically searching for something that would be worth staying alive for. This time, he didn’t push Steve away.