#mightiest hero tonight

[clockwork-stars]

No one talks to me, I'm destroyed inside

Source: Adventures of Superman #498 - funeral for a friend 1

[anika-ann]

Restless Hearts - S.R.

Type: one-shot, established relationship, next-to-zero plot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 6,2k

Summary: Moving in together with Steve is the dream come true – or it should have been. You didn't exactly have the chance to benefit from that since he shipped off to a mission for days and is only now coming back.

You grow restless. And to make it worse, you only get to reunite with him on this stupid pompous party instead of your home. Well. Just few more hours of socializing to survive.

You could handle that, right?

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, semi-public sex if you squint, unprotected sex, language, Steve being a menace, two idiots in love who can't keep their hands off of each other

A/N: written for the Smutty September Fest hosted by @mercurial-chuckles . Thank you for hosting 💕 I have chosen multiple prompts - finding a somewhat private area at a fancy party to f* and quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials 🤭

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰

Sparkling lights. Sparkling drinks. Elegant gowns and sharp suits. Subtle polite laughter and conversation occasionally interrupted by a louder exclamation and a genuine burst of laughter from the groups forming around those who knew how to charm a crowd. A non-descript music, one song bleeding into another, a few couples trying to find space on the dancefloor that had mostly changed into an agora, a space for conversation rather than for moving in well-practiced sync.

The dress skirt brushing over your knees and ankles, a slight chill on the back of your neck as someone opened the balcony doors, letting in fresh April air of New York City. The light stink of alcohol and sweat amongst the hundreds of expensive perfumes and colognes. The rich aftertaste of the sting of bubbles, sweet and spicy on your tongue.

The golden lights shone bright but intimate, reflecting in your champagne glass and prompting you to finish your first – and likely one of the lasts – drink of the night.

You weren’t much of a drinker. You indulged every once in a while, more of curiosity about what fancy brand the host had chosen for the occasion and a thing of courtesy, using the glass like a required social prop.

Such was the case tonight too – a fancy evening for investors and associates of the Earth’s mightiest heroes. Politicians, diplomats, government officials, high-ranking military officials and filthy-rich entrepreneurs – mostly not your crowd, to speak plainly. There was a slightly better company too, even if scarce: former agents and other colleagues – well-vetted beforehand, of course – scientists, non-profit representatives, veterans. Several Avengers too, of course.

But your favourite – the one who had brought you deeper into the world of superheroes – was yet to be found.  

Steve Rogers most definitely was your favourite; nearly flawless moral compass, loyal, protective of the less fortunate ones and his own. A fighter who had won and lost all too much; an artist, who saw beauty around him nevertheless. A kind soul with an enormous heart, perhaps a tad too big for his own body despite his impressive physique. Larger than life and yet somehow humble enough in his insistence that he was just a man, ordinary, like most; just lucky enough to had been given a chance to fight and to defend.

And to love.

Steve Rogers certainly was your favourite, as he should be; the goodness of the world distilled into one man, with a face and a body of worth of being sculpted by the masters of ancient arts, the warmest smile and a sparkle to his eye a testimony to his brilliant mind and wicked humour. All that at your fingertips; all that supposedly yours, as incredible as it seemed at most times.

He was yours.

Your boyfriend of four months and seventeen days.

Not that you had been counting; perhaps just a little. You were innocent in the matter, however; it was mostly your and Steve’s friends, teasing you about taking things slow. According to Bucky, had you been taking things at Steve’s desired pace, with how smitten he apparently was, he would have already had a ring on your finger.

You didn’t dare to judge, afraid of raising your hopes a little too much; however, there was something to be said about Steve Rogers in love. He made it clear; so painfully and blissfully clear, letting you feel his much-reciprocated adoration in hundreds if not thousands of little moments.

In his touch. In his words. In his actions.

Your demanding jobs perhaps did slow down your progress a bit, making even the settling on a day of your first date quite the feat; but it was one of those good things that made the waiting worth it.

If Steve was smitten, so were you; and while a proposal would feel rather rash, you certainly not at all thinking about how you’d probably say yes anyway, because you simply knew, you’d settle for moving in together.

You had moved in together, thirteen days ago.

And the move in that had left you with half-unpacked boxes, cold bed and an apartment lacking the true aura of a home, because the person you wished to build it with was godknowswhere in a middle of Siberia, having left after a passionate welcome-to-our-new-home and a message delivered at three damn forty a.m.

Steve had left the pleasant warmth of your bed at four, with a profound sleepy apology and a lingering kiss to your forehead.

Left for an off-grid no-contact mission. Lasting for days.

For all the faith you had in his skill and strength, the worry that came with him being away for so long without as much of a short text was eating at you; and then there was the matter of simply missing him, the empty feeling only accentuated by having expected to be nearer to him at last and getting this instead. You were an independent woman and you could live your life without a man just fine, but goddamn were you also a woman madly in love, missing your boyfriend.

And you were growing impatient.

You were still at your first drink, yes, but knowing Steve should appear at any moment did not help calm your nerves, the slightly uncomfortable but exciting swirl of anticipation of seeing him again – in a suit no less – as intense as the yearning for comfort of actually seeing for yourself that he was safe and sound.

He had texted you, at last, about four hours ago, that he was on his way, nothing but a couple of bruises already healing, looking forward to seeing you.

You had agreed to meet at the venue; he would be running last minute, or perhaps even fashionably late, grabbing a quick shower and a shave at his at-hand quarters at the Tower, just throwing on a suit he kept there for such occasions. You had offered to help – for the completely selfish reason of seeing him sooner and in private instead of in front of hundreds of watchful curious eyes – but he had sweetly refused, argumenting that at least one of you should be on time and promising he would find you first thing upon his arrival.

You would have grumbled if you hadn’t been soothed by the Love you, can’t wait to hold you again, he had texted after. He was a charming loveable bastard like that.

As the infamous murmur of excitement arose around you, bringing you back to the present, your eyes easily found the source of the commotion: Steve Rogers himself.

Your heart rate accelerating reminded you that not being able to meet Steve before the event might have been a blessing. Had you had the chance to get your hands on him, you two would probably end up being very much unfashionably late; a welcome home kiss would have simply not sufficed.

He was breathtaking.

The traditional black suit with navy blue glint was fitted for certain; tight where it should be, accentuating Steve’s absurdly broad shoulders and thin waist, pants no doubt hugging all the right places from behind somehow complimenting his long muscular legs too, pristine white shirt with a bowtie matching the suit; the soft blue reflection emphasized the colour of his eyes as they scanned the room without ever stopping his progress, his polite smile spreading wide when his gaze found yours, the blue of his irises turning warmer; the most beautiful feature to his face battling the magnificence of his sharply cut jaw.

The instant relief washing over you screamed of how anxious you had actually been before you had seen him alive and well; the warmth spreading through your veins whispered of comfort, a tidal wave of feeling at home after a long travel; the heat curling in your belly and sending sparkles through every nerve ending reminded you that your body had been missing him in all different ways.

Your gaze zeroed on his every step. He seemed to move too slow and too fast at once; and suddenly he was standing in front of you, one hand gently grasping yours, the other lightly laying on your waist, a chaste kiss to your temple lingering as your body naturally sought his and carefully leaned into his entirely publicly appropriate greeting. The familiar woodsy notes of his cologne and aftershave had your heartbeat pick up and instinctively move closer into his embrace and breathing in deeply, the scent going straight to your head; but following his lead, you didn’t get too close, letting the gentle timbre of his voice soothe your need for connection instead.

At last; he was home. He was here, with you, and his love, while contained in socially acceptable gestures, seemed to draw a protective circle around your pair, shining brighter and warmer than the lights and all the luxuries around combined.

“Hey sweetheart. It’s so good to see you,” he whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek this time, his eyes lit alive as he retreated, a hint of a smile still playing in the corner of his lips. “And you are absolutely stunning. Almost tripped over my feet the moment I set my eyes on you.”

Resisting the urge to tenderly slap his side at the exaggeration, at making your face burn hot – and something inside you purr with satisfaction since you had chosen your outfit with care, much like your makeup and hairdo – you gathered your composure, straightening your posture and charming a smile for him in return.

In one of many late-night conversations, when he had revealed his artistic side to you, he had admitted he loved to feast his eyes on all kinds of art from the most ordinary ones to the rarest; you had understood then that while a fighter and just a man in his core, his soul was a thing seeking beauty and goodness everywhere. In both things and people. A doodle could make him smile and hum in delight as much as a painting or a sculpture, he had said shyly; a building, an arrangement of flowers, a beautiful dress too. The last one, however, he had appreciated most on a woman as bewitching as yourself, he had told you, a tender finger on your jaw, a glint of dark mischief in his eye, lips slanting over yours and stealing your breath in a matter of a second; proving he was appreciative of you just as much when you were wearing nothing at all.

This time, however, you liked to believe he enjoyed the sight of you in the dress indeed; the top was hugging your curves like a second skin, the dark crimson fabric bled into a breeze-light skirt, shorter at the front, longer at the back, offering a less-than-scandalous but still teasing peek of your legs and clear view of your matching heels.

“It’s really good to see you too, love. And you look quite handsome yourself… I nearly dropped my drink upon seeing you,” you reciprocated with a small smirk, pointedly finishing your drink at last, heat flaring in your core when you caught Steve’s gaze lingering on your lips as they barely touched the edge of the glass, not leaving an imprint despite the dangerously red colour of your lipstick.

As you set your glass on the nearest table, you took a satisfactory note of Steve’s gaze flickering even lower, and bit back a smile.

As high as the neckline of your dress was, actually reaching half-up your throat and barely but chastely covering your shoulders, the oval-shaped cut stretching from between your collarbones down over your sternum was a rather intentional trap.

And your Captain had fallen right into it, his Adam’s apple bobbing before his gaze snapped back to your face, pupils wider, irises having gained just a tad darker shade. The fresh surge of confidence was almost as intense as the swoop of desire in your lower belly, sending your thoughts spiralling far away from a behaviour socially acceptable at an event like this.

It made you want to abandon the event and let it sort itself even if Steve had just barely arrived.

Who cared anyway? Steve deserved a proper rest after a taxing mission; rest and more, whatever his heart desired. And maybe not only his heart; if you were honest with yourself, you were only a hot-blooded human being like the rest of the world and were looking forward to truly greeting Steve home in all the ways imaginable.

You could control yourself in the public, of course, and you genuinely understood the importance of networking. But you should bring up simply taking Steve home for his own good; and you could profit from it all the same. From his proximity, from the privacy of your home, from getting your hands on the insanely handsome man’s body.

Whether he sensed the sparkles in the air you weren’t sure; but he leaned towards your face, his voice dripping slow and rich like honey from his lips brushing your ear, sinful despite the words being perfectly innocent.

“It works well then, honey.” He offered you his elbow, straightening his posture as if he was so damn proud to show off what kind of a woman he had on his arm. “Let’s go fulfil our duty of mingling so we can excuse ourselves as soon as possible.”

With his last words carrying alluring notes of an intimate promise, you conceded.

Nodding, you arranged your face in a polite smile, crafted to nonchalant perfection.

“Let’s go mingle indeed.”

Indeed, let’s work so we can sneak away and go home as soon as possible.

Your plan had gone a little awry.

In the glow of delight at Steve’s arrival, you had underestimated the number of people who found it their crucial mission to meet and greet and catch up with Captain America.

You had kept up the pleasant façade through all the conversations, nodding and chuckling politely when the situation called for it; but you were growing weary and you could feel tension gradually building in Steve’s shoulders as well, the way you remained connected by at least an inch of a touch at all times permitting you to observe the change.

You had thought it would help when you subtly nodded towards the dance floor; his smile turned much more genuine as he asked you for a dance, earning your pair a breather and a moment of shared intimacy for a few songs.

But you had been wrong in your strategy; if it were possible, Steve’s jaw appeared locked even tighter than before once your reprieve was deemed to last too long and you agreed to return to socializing. His touch grew into a hold; at moments, it was but a grip, until you felt him forcefully relax and ease the pressure.

You didn’t blame him one bit.

He must have been exhausted; away from home for so long, physically and mentally drained after an intense, albeit successful mission, forced to put on a mask for everyone else’s benefit, because Steve Rogers, to a point, was a poster boy. As much as he was trying to change that, working on allowing himself to show and accept his humanity, he remained the embodiment of a hero who never gave up and raised others on his own shoulders despite scratching the bottom of the barrel of his own energy.

He remained cordial and polite and a gentleman; he offered to get you a drink as you excused yourself to the bathroom, returning only to find him – visibly annoyed, for once – trapped in a conversation with Tony. A conversation which was probably not at all important, but apparently couldn’t wait, at least in Tony’s mind.  

“Such a charming woman, standing here all by herself. How is that even possible?” questioned a voice from your left just as you pondered rescuing your boyfriend, causing you to waver.

It was a very male voice. An unfamiliar voice.

And had it been Clint or Sam or Bucky, you’d laugh at the poor line, which would no doubt be told with a drop of teasing; or in Thor’s case, entirely genuine and fitting to Asgardian but not Midgardian ways. Hearing it from a stranger, though, that made you want to roll your eyes.

You were a strong soldier of God so to speak, however; you turned to the source of the voice with a smile with just a slightly sharp edge – one the tall lanky man was oblivious to, as it turned out – and greeted him with a measured Sir.

As he introduced himself, you learned that Mr. Doctor Bowers PhD. might have had two PhDs but none of them was in taking a goddamn hint. Because now you were sort-of trapped much like Steve was, the written and unwritten rules of courtesy not permitting you to make up an excuse of needing to go to the bathroom after you had clearly just come back.

You counted seconds, pondering how soon you could leave the man behind without appearing too rude. You got to a hundred when your patience truly was wearing thin.

He was still not taking any of the hints you had dropped. Worse, even. You weren’t presumptuous enough – unlike some people in the mostly one-sided conversation – to imagine the flirting. He was clearly attempting to flirt and was failing miserably. He was shameless about it too, even if a little condescending.

Ninety-four seconds later, you had enough of him and far too little of Steve; your skin seemed to be already burning where Steve had last touched you, yearning for the contact to return in a perhaps clingy, but entirely honest way.

And suddenly, as if some miracle provided by Asgardian magic, the touch was back.

Steve’s arm was curling around your waist, his side pressing to your hip, his lips making a gentle – and strangely electric – contact with your hairline.

“I’m sorry about the hold-up, sweetheart. Who’s your… friend?”

It was a little funny, really. The man matched Steve in height, but at the biting note in Steve’s voice, he shrank at least a foot and a half.

He introduced himself after clearing his throat, maintaining the remnants of his composure which all of sudden carried no hint of the wannabe seducer. You wanted to kiss Steve right on the lips right there for that alone.

Mr. Doctor PhD also probably regretted extending his hand for Steve to shake; because at Steve’s grip, no doubt stronger than necessary despite his entirely nonchalant mask of politeness, he actually winced.

You were no supporter of violence, much like Steve, which might seem ironic to some given his profession – but the lick of heat at seeing Steve put the guy into back into his place sent a shudder of undiluted want down your spine and straight into your core, your posture involuntarily shifting in response. Steve’s hold on you tightened.

“I have to talk to my girlfriend now, if you excuse us. See you around,” Steve said, already spinning you towards the exit to drive his point to the end.

You didn’t resist.

If anything, you couldn’t walk fast enough, regretting wearing heels and wishing for a pair of sneakers instead to sneak away from the party altogether at last.

Only when Steve led you further and further away from people, deeper into the complex, your heart began thundering in your chest; you noticed that the tension in his muscles you had worried about had grew tenfold and realized that his announcement about needing to talk to you might be more than an excuse.

“Steve, are you alright?”

“Fine,” he responded flatly, yet in a voice carrying hundred times more warmth than just a moment ago.

Right. And the Sun is blue, the pigs can fly and tachyons had always been proven particles of matter.  

You swallowed the snarky response, glancing at him as you barely kept up with his long strides; still, you could tell he was holding back, having seen him march with much more hurry and relentlessness.

“Thanks for the rescue, by the way. Really,” you pipped up, one corner of your lips rising despite your stomach turning tight at the unreadable expression on Steve’s face. “Guy simply couldn’t take the hint that I only have eyes for my Captain.”

An uncomprehensible grumbly noise vibrated in Steve’s chest, his arm sliding from your waist in favour of taking your hand in his instead.

Apparently, your attempt at cheering him up failed; you should have known.

The corridor was now completely devoid of people; you had arrived to the part of the floor with three small conference rooms, one an each of them dark and empty – because everyone was at the party.

Your smile turned truly nervous at that point, your mind racing as much as your heart. Steve wouldn’t have led you here unless he wanted to urgently talk about something important. You were a little baffled as to why hadn’t he opted for the elevator and his former quarters instead; but you didn’t question it as he placed his palm on the scanner and practically threw one of the doors open and all but pulled you in, some of the lights automatically flickering to life.

That was all that your ordinary human brain had time to register.

Because then Steve’s hand found firm purchase of your neck, cupping your jaw, lips slanted over yours with ferocity and passion that had your mind snap blank and set your body on fire, your hands limply landing on his firm chest.

Oh. O-okay.

More than okay.

You were forced to walk backwards, Steve’s other hand pressing against your hip to lead your step and steady you at once; an anchor you desperately needed in the whirlwind of puzzlement and madly stirred desire. Your lips parted in invitation just before your ass hit the conference table, an unvoluntary whimper escaping you when Steve’s body aligned with yours, every single part of him bare his lips tight and wound up, his hardness brushing against your thigh.

At the small sound so willingly consumed by his demanding kiss, he squeezed your hip harder, tongue exploring hundred-times explored with delight, air stolen from your lungs, your hands scrambling to grab his suit jacket to pull him even closer.

Who needed breathing anyway?

You didn’t. And you didn’t care how you got here either, be it desire fuelled by impatience or jealousy or the endless time apart, your choice of a dress or your lipstick which you knew Steve liked so much. You didn’t give a damn.

He was the spoilsport, releasing your lips and pressing his forehead against yours, his quick breaths fanning your face, hand from your neck sliding lower, an almost inhuman sound pushing through his teeth when his fingertips found the exposed skin on your breastbone, petting the soft spot adoringly.

You had not known until that moment how much you craved his touch precisely at that spot and how weak in the knees it could make you.

“Please say y-“

“Yes,” you gasped, instantly rewarded by his mouth on yours again with a muttered but hearty-

“God, I missed you-“

-dextrous fingers sliding under your skirts and hiking the fabric up as they travelled up your thigh, Steve’s pelvis rocking against yours, creating delicious friction against your core.

“I missed you too.”

Your hands went to roam over his freshly shaven jaw, over his shoulders, pushing the jacket off just to make him growl in frustration when he had to stop touching you for two full seconds to get rid of it.

“Sorry, want to feel you,” you apologized nonsensically, every single moment of his touch going straight to your head like a strong sweet wine, intoxicating and addictive, much like his scent, his taste, consuming all of your senses.

“Need to have you-”

“You have me,” you said breathily, a plea and a promise at once, thoroughly appreciated by a squeeze to your ass, fingertips wandering towards where you needed him the most--

And then Steve halted in his progress, body turning into a statue as he came in contact with bare skin, lips stilling on yours.

You gulped, trying to judge his reaction despite your haze.

You had had… a little incident when dressing up to the nines. Your broken nail nicked your thigh-high, sending a run up your calf. Uncharacteristically unprepared, you had found out if was your only pair. And sure. You could have run to a store. You could have express-ordered; stores would trip over their feet to deliver to Ms. Captain America in need. You could have worn a pantyhose.

And yet, your mind had steered you towards the drawer where you had kept tights specifically bought for a wholly different occasion than a social outing.

Why not? Your dress was long enough. And having hoped Steve’s mission would bring him home victorious and excited, having missed all of him terribly, you thought you might at least save some time once you two would be home.

Except you weren’t at home now. But that wasn’t on you – you were completely innocent in that matter.

Except you weren’t and your tights were conveniently sewn with a large enough opening to have Steve fit his hand or other parts of his body through, leaving but a flimsy lace panties in his way.

“Sweetheart?” he rasped, licking his lips as if to tempt you further, to confess your sins born of love and lust. He pulled back just an inch, to meet your gaze, his own pupils blown so wide only a thin ring of your beloved blue remained.

You gulped; not ashamed, not truly, perhaps a little apprehensive of his judgement. You had worn what was pretty much an erotic prop to a high-class event and had you not been careful and had had an accident, anyone seeing or god forbid snapping a picture…

“I… wanted to greet you home… and feel you as soon as possible,” you admitted silently, heart thundering in your chest, in your ears, in your temples, in your fingertips fisting the collar of Steve’s shirt.

A beat of silence.

Several wild beats of your heart.

“Christ, I love you-“

You were hoisted up on the edge of the table in a lightning speed and a mouth-watering display of strength, lips devoured by Steve’s with enough force to bend you backwards, the line of your soaked panties pushed aside to not waste time indeed as Steve’s fingertips dipped into your slick with a mutual groan of pleasure.

“Steve-“

“That’s right, honey,” he whispered, lips teasing the soft skin of your throat now, “I’m here now, all yours.”

He teased your lower lips back and forth, once, twice, three times too many and then he finally entered you with two fingers, a dark chuckle coming deep from his throat at the gasp of his name, stepping closer between your spread thighs to press your legs further apart.

He pumped his fingers with ease, driving you towards the stars at a dizzying speed, pressing a soothing kiss to your sternum when you cried out at him curling his fingers just right.

“That’s it, honey… sing for me. Just for me,” he pleaded, contradicting his plea by claiming your lips again and pushing deeper, faster, wicked,your whimpers swallowed greedily, all his, just like you were, on the brink of ecstasy.

You were trembling; in pleasure, in anticipation of absolute bliss, with Steve’s hand firmly pressed to your lower back to hold you close and annihilate you in the most exquisite way known to man. His words, his touch, the husky notes of his voice, the sheer need radiating off him and still making sure you were to steal the first round of fireworks just for yourself.

It exploded through your body without warning.

You broke with a cry of his name, lips freed just so he could hear the delicious sound, so beautifully seconded by his harsh breaths and so filthily accompanied by the wet sound of your pleasure you had no capacity to be ashamed of but revelled in instead.

You knew he did too. Because he had done that to you, for you. It was his and yours and both was a privilege; and lust incarnate, as he brought you down from your high gently as it be, his hand disappearing from your back in favour of undoing his fly and zipper.

Feel as soon as possible; no time to waste. Pants shoved down only as little as necessary, boxers following, a peek of a mouthwatering – and always a little intimidating – sight was all you got.

A small startled sound escaped you when you were being pulled further towards the edge of the table without a moment of reprieve, a chuckle bubbling in your throat at Steve’s impatience – but with no malice. God knew you understood; the moment the head nudged your entrance, coating him in your slick, your orgasmic bliss was long gone, replaced by even more acute need.

You wanted him. Now. All of him. Wanted to feel him deep inside you, wanted him to fill you so completely as only he ever could, devoured by him, desired and loved.

And you wanted to make him feel as delirious with pleasure as he had made you a moment ago, wanted to make his world so hot it turned white for a moment, make his knees buckle with the force of his release.

Your gaze met his, eyes feasting at the beautiful panting mess he already was, all pristine in his suit and bowtie and ready to ruin and be ruined, lips crimson and kiss-swollen and parting with a groan as he slowly pushed into you.

“Look at me, Steve. Want you to see what you do to me,” you whispered, the little broken sound pushing past his lips the only warning you got before he snapped his hips forward with a curse on his lips and sheeted himself fully inside you at once. God, so fully and suddenly that all air got knocked from your lungs.

His hand grasped your jaw, tender but firm, a dangerous glint in his eye, thumb running over your painted lower lip.

“Oh I’m looking, honey.” His gaze flickered down as he retreated almost all the way out, shining with your arousal, and thrusted deeply again, causing your eyes to flutter shut. “And there’s nothing prettier than you falling apart for me, so let. Me. See you.”

He accentuated every word with a sharp snap of his hips, stroking and stretching your walls over and over, setting a rhythm, teasingly slow and punishingly quick, hand and lips roaming, grabbing and caressing, kisses all teeth and all soft, grip on your hips keeping you still to assure he could take you exactly as he liked and encouraging you to roll your hips at your pace as you balanced on the edge of the table all the same.

“Missed you.”

“Love you.

“Need you.”

“So good for me.”

“I’m so damn lucky.”

“Please.”

“Look at me.”

“Give it me, honey.”

Your head was spinning as you were consumed by bliss, spiralling towards your peak so fast you couldn’t tell anymore which words were yours and which were his, where you ended and he began, clinging to each other as you were carried higher and higher, your ears ringing and still allowing you to hear the clinks of the belt buckle and the sinful sound of your rapid love-making; like a lightning running through yours very being, you shattered with a high-pitched whimper of Steve’s name, an echo of a hoarse voice stringing curses and praise barely reaching your conscience.

You panted against Steve’s shoulder as he curled around you, minuscule movements of hips to ride out both of your highs, soft words spilling from his lips as he was barely caching breath himself.

You took a minute, maybe two or five, still, clinging to him all the same, the heady scent of sex and sweat weighing down the air, your tongue heavy and throat parched, fingers carding through Steve’s damp hair softly.

And still, you chuckled breathlessly as Steve kept running his warm hand up and down your back, the sound causing him to press a kiss to your lips that tasted of apology for some reason.

“Well…”

“I’m sorry for pouncing on you, sweetheart,” he muttered, a genuine note of regret nearly lost in the pleasure carried over to his voice.

Your smiled must have looked exhausted, you thought; but blissed out.

Oh, your sweetheart of a boyfriend. As if you hadn’t just both enjoyed this tremendously. Surely, he didn’t really mean it, did he?

“I’m sorry for sort-of setting a trap then…” you followed suit, the words feeling simply wrong on your tongue. “Except I’m not.”

At that, Steve lifted his head, meeting your gaze, his eyes sparkling with mischief and desire still.

“Me neither.”

You grinned, trying not to be acutely aware of his hardness still stretching you to your fullest.

Of course he wasn’t entirely satisfied. One round had barely even been enough.

“That’s what I thought. Good.”

He mirrored your expression, his grin a little boyish and devilish at once, his expression soft but somehow everything but innocent.

Yet, he caressed your face with his fingertips with tenderness, from your damp temple over your cheekbone to your jaw, gently pressing against your lips.

“I love you. And I missed you. So much. I swear I just wanted to go home – take you home, the moment I walked in,” he admitted, causing your smile to turn sympathetic.

You knew all about that; it was all you had been truly thinking about the whole evening.

“I know the feeling.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh…” you trailed off, sensations slowly returning to your body outside the all-consuming pleasure. You felt like you were burning; sweaty and fucked-out for the lack of a better term, most of your body tingling… You chuckled self-deprecatingly. “God, my legs shake so much… what did you do to me?”

Steve’s hands moved to your thighs as if he needed to feel it and steady the trembling, to help, teeth worrying over his lip, just a hint of guilt – and a whole lot more of something you didn’t dare to decode, because those were some dangerous waters.

You expected him to pull out and help you stand then, clean up; after all, he was a gentleman like that, always supporting you.

He did the former, tenderly so as not to hurt you; but not the latter. When he carefully left your body and you tried to stand, he halted your movements with tightening his hold on your thighs, his gaze roaming all over you as you glanced at him all with puzzlement.

“Steve?”

“Maybe you should lie down,” he suggested lowly, his gaze flickering from your still quaking legs to the opening of your dress on your chest and to your lips and then back.

You swallowed against your dry throat.

The dangerous waters you hadn’t dared to explore roared in the back of your head, a shudder of scalding heat running through your body.

He hadn’t cleaned up. He hadn’t tucked himself in. He was still… as always---he-

You licked your lips, your heart stumbling so hard in your chest it was almost painful.

Wordlessly but with his blown pupils observing you like a hawk, one of his hands moved to your shoulder, gently pushing, encouraging you to lie down on the desk indeed.

And who were you to protest? His gaze was once again pleading and challenging you.

Please, say yes.

Like a fallen angel coaxing you to sin; and you’d all but follow hm straight to hell, because you knew he’d show you heaven unparalleled.

The table was cold and unforgivingly hard against your back, but you didn’t care; all you cared about was Steve looking at you like that, like you were a goddess and a prize he had sworn to win, guiding your leg up to rest your ankle against his shoulder, his hot mouth pressing a kiss to your calf. His other hand pushed his pants and boxes down his legs this time, before he reached for your other leg and wrapped it around his waist, once again nudging your sensitive opening.

“Just one more, honey,” he coaxed you, as if you needed convincing, as if the tremble of your body hadn’t turned from blissful and exhausted to one of anticipation. “Just one more and then we’ll go home…”

He pressed another kiss to your calf and met your gaze as he slowly sank back in with ease, something devilish and painfully alluring flashing in his eyes as a shudder ran through your body, sensitive from your earlier activities.

“And when we’re there, I’ll take you once more… once for every day I would have made love to you, had I been in our home with you as I should have.”

In the haze of your mind, the math didn’t seem to math or even matter, even though you felt it should.

But for now, all you could focus on was Steve, finally with you, and soon coming to your shared home with you, at last.

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

The event's masterlist

*chuckles* I’m in danger🥹

I hope Steve makes sure she’s hydrated and eats something in between🤭 And maybe gets some sleep; not all of us are supersoldiers 🥹

ANYWAY. Thank you for reading! Drop feedback if you're willing and may September bring you many smutty cozy evenings and peace 💕

[simplyholl]

Fireworks

Summary: Loki uses an illusion while you have fun during a fireworks show.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

See My Masterlist Here

“We can’t, not here.” You protest, trying to talk some sense into your fuck buddy, Loki. “No one will miss us.” He tempts you, raising a suggestive eyebrow. You can’t resist him, it was like trying to hold your breath. Eventually you would give in, needing him more than you ever thought possible.

The Fourth of July was usually reserved for barbecues and pool days, but this year Tony wanted to throw a lavish dinner party to impress some higher ups who still had their doubts about the Avengers. So here you were, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes wearing stuffy suits and elegant gowns eating prime rib and lobster instead of wearing swimsuits and stuffing your faces with hotdogs.

You all had been warned to be on your best behavior, especially Loki and Thor whose Asgardian liquor often times made them and everyone they shared it with bad decision makers. You wished you could blame the alcohol when you took Loki’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dining hall while everyone started to gather outside for fireworks. But you didn’t drink anything except for water. You didn’t have an excuse, momentarily dickmatized, you went willingly.

“Nope. Not tonight, get your asses back here right now.” Tony stops you, pointing to the wrap around porch the others were gathering on. You sigh, giving your best puppy dog eyes to him, hoping it would work. If anyone understood the importance of getting off, it was Tony.

“Don’t give me that look. If we didn’t have the very people who could shut us down in attendance, I would even cover for you. But we have to make it seem like we are the best people they know.” Tony explains, adjusting the collar on his dress shirt nervously.

Loki turns, following him out, never letting go of your hand. Once Tony does a headcount, Loki brings you to the darkest corner of the porch. A flash of green passes by so quickly, you’re sure you imagined it. But this is Loki, and he was always up to something.

“What are you doing?” You whisper so no one can hear you. One of the old men look in your direction, you fake a smile and wave at him until he takes his attention off you. In the distance Mr. USA himself, Steve Rogers sets off the first firework. An explosion of red lighting up the sky.

“Do you trust me?” Loki whispers in your ear. “Yes, but now’s not the time to live up to your namesake, Mischief.” You answer, eyes narrowing suspiciously. You would both be in big trouble, possibly kicked off the team if you did anything to portray the Avengers in a negative way tonight. “To everyone else, it looks like we are enjoying the fireworks. They can’t see what we are really doing.”

He leans down to gently kiss your shoulder, long fingers sliding your dress straps down your arms exposing your breasts. You gasp, trying to cover yourself. The nosy old man from earlier looks over at you, but doesn’t notice your uncovered body. He looks away as another firework illuminates the darkness.

“I would never let them look at you like this.” He purrs. His rich voice washing away any doubt you had. He nuzzles his head to your chest, his fingers lightly pinching your nipples. You moan, and Natasha turns, looking at you questioningly. “They can’t see what we are doing, darling, but they can hear us.”

“Loki, we have to stop.” He instantly goes still. “What’s wrong?” You rub his cheek to reassure him. “I can’t be quiet. They will hear us.” You can see the gears turning in his head, his eyes lighting up when he gets an idea.

Loki drops to his knees, large hands sliding up your thighs until he reaches your panties. He works them down your legs as you watch in anticipation. He wads them up, his obscenely big hand covering them completely as he brings them to your face. His thumb taps your bottom lip, beckoning it open. When your mouth forms an O, Loki places your panties inside. “There that should muffle any sound you make.”

You watch in disbelief, turned on by his antics. You feel the unmistakable warmth of your arousal drip down your thighs. Loki lifts your gown, settling on his knees once again. He places your leg over his shoulder, your fingers tangle in his curls as he dives in.

His talented tongue swirls your clit before dipping inside you. He thrusts his tongue, while the tip of his nose rubs against your most sensitive part. You shudder, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

Loki takes your clit between his lips, sucking gently as his tongue flicks in unison. Your legs tremble as his soft licks grow firmer. You groan, your panties keeping the sound from reaching the ears of the others. But Loki hears it, he loves that you will do anything for him.

You’re typically a rule follower, always early for your appointments, avoiding trouble at any cost. Until he showed up, he turned your world upside down. You would never consider letting someone eat you out in front of company, depending on him to use his magic to conceal you. You would never trust anyone else like him. He supposed that was what he liked the most. You trust him completely.

He strokes you with his velvet tongue once more, adding two fingers. The intrusion sends you spiraling. Fireworks exploding behind your closed eyelids mirroring what was happening around you. You bite down on your panties, fighting every primal urge to scream Loki’s name.

Loki turns you around, pressing you against the building. He quickly slides his pants down, reaching below to gather your dress, bunching it up on your side. His large hands run along the curve of your backside, giving it a squeeze. He parts your legs with his own, positioning himself.

He bottoms out in one thrust, you moan loudly, praying the panties will do their intended job. You always feel so full, so complete when you have sex with Loki. No one could ever compare. He slides his hand between you, thumb working your clit as you clench around him.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other is unmistakable. You can’t be bothered to worry about it when he rearranges your guts like this. You’ll feel it all night and tomorrow. You always do. Your side will ache, too sore to bend over. It was a delicious reminder of him.

The finale of the fireworks coincided with your orgasm. You were thankful for the noise of the pyrotechnics. Every drag of his cock made you scream as you came around him. He was close behind, spilling inside you as your visitors clapped when the show was over.

Loki turns you around, retrieving your panties from your mouth and using them to wipe away the mess he made of you. He kisses your shoulder before pulling your dress straps back where they belong. You extend your hand reaching for your panties, but he shakes his head placing them in his pocket instead.

Another flicker of green surrounds you, dropping the illusion. Loki motions to your hair, letting you know you have more than a few tresses out of place. You’re smoothing your hair down as Natasha comes over, a knowing smirk on her full lips. “It sounded like you two were doing more clapping than our visitors over there.” She says, laughing as she walks away.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter @daddieslut1 @macnbriee @sammichdog

[rosaline-black]

Hi!!!! I loved your Loki x green witch reader story I’m actually obsessed with the concept of the usually moody Loki just enamoured by this ray of sunshine. So is there anyway you could do like a blurb of them pre relationship?? Maybe Loki makes excuses to catch glimpses of her and she takes it the wrong way?

AGHH this request excited me so much I’ve loved Loki x sunny green witch reader for ages and this ignited my want to write so hey this might become a little series if anyone’s interested. The original one shot is here but this can totally be read stand alone!

Loki x fem!greenwitch!reader

Loki couldn’t quite remember how it had started. He remembers the first time he saw you, it was hard to forget after all. You were all smiles and smooth movements, the ethereal sparkles leaving your fingertips so effortlessly he felt like he’d had a spell cast on him right then and there.

Maybe he had. Maybe that was why for the past month Loki had found every opportunity to catch a glimpse of who he now knew to be the green witch.

In Asgardian folklore witches were evil old crones, sharp splintered nails and sneering wrinkled faces, cloaked in dark heavy materials. How wrong they had been. You couldn’t antithesis’ that more.

Your beauty was obvious. Anyone with eyes or ears would recognise that. From how you nurtured every aspect of your life, from the smallest of insects to the mightiest of hero’s. Your kindness was staggering. This naturally intrigued him.

The god of mischief had heard rumours of your origin from other members of the avengers, well heard was pushing it. He had asked. The Robin Hood knock off had mentioned something about you hiding? Spending years locked away in the forest, too kind to fight the cruel hunters so living a life of solitude among the plants and creatures.

Witches were a hot commodity after all. If the impression Asgardians had of witches was anything to go by he could only assume the dimwitted humans had a similar ideology.

But enough about the past, Loki was very much struggling with you in the present.

The first few times it was an accident. You both seemed to favour tea over the dark caffeinated syrup the other heathens of stark tower were addicted to. So when you softly asked him,“Did you have the last lemon tea bag?” With absolutely zero malice, it took Loki nearly twenty seconds to string together some sort of reply.

“Yes… my apologies”

“Ah that’s no problem I’ll have to make some more, I grow my own tea leaves”

Well I guess that was how it had begun. Loki’s infatuation and his over consumption of herbal tea.

He had managed to memorise your schedule. You would spend most of your time in the green houses, flourishing your garden and researching new spells in the hundreds of old tomes and scrolls Stark had helped you find.

In the evenings, usually around 9pm you could be found in the common areas, sat in a corner with a book and of course a cup of tea. Loki suddenly found himself waiting for the clock to strike 9 every day.

The god was casual about it, never approached you or tried to charm you into his company like he would have done in the past with broads upon Asgard. No you were far too special to be smarmed.

So he would just hover like a black cat, observing silently as casually and as cautiously as possible. Just like tonight.

At 9:01 pm Loki strolled into the kitchen, like most (all) evenings and heated the kettle pouring himself a cup of tea. His eyes landed on you like they always did, how could they not. The silence unlike most nights felt thicker, heavier. Something was off, and your sigh filled with unfamiliar contempt shocked him into dropping his tea spoon, the small metal tool falling into the countertop with a loud clatter.

The noise garnered so much volume you involuntarily got out of your chair, slamming your book shut with a pout as you made your way to the door. Just before Loki slammed his head against the wall like a lovestruck fool your voice rung out in the air.

“I know everyone here thinks I’m strange but if you’re just going to stand there and gawk at me every evening I’d much rather you just disclosed your judgments out loud…”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t act so perplexed. I’ve seen you coming here to catch a glimpse of me..”

Lokis heart dropped, you knew?

“…oh look at the mad witch who spends all her time talking to plants I wonder if she’s as nuts as everyone says she is!!”

Oh no. No no no you’d gotten it all wrong. If he wasn’t so stressed about the content of which you were speaking he probably would have been fixed on how adorable you were when you rambled.

“No… no I promise that was not my intention. It probably doesn’t come as a surprise to you that I’m not very well liked by the louder more extroverted inhabitants here…you well you seemed different? Less brash more… calm”

Gods he was such an imbecile. If you didn’t think he was an utter creep before you definitely would now.

The gods eyes were wide and frantic scanning your features for any kind of sign of understanding. Someone must of been looking out for him because the wrinkle between your brow softened and that pout, that intoxicatingly adorable pout curved into what could only be described as a bewitching smile.

“Oh… oh well then it is my turn to apologise… I just assumed you thought… well you know…”

“Fortunately I don’t…”

“Well maybe next time you happen upon me reading you could… join me?”

Loki nearly grabbed his chest to still his beating heart “I look forward to it…” maybe he wasn’t the god of lies after all.

[sacharinee]

hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this 

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues. 

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,” 

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.” 

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,” 

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands. 

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame. 

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion. 

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.” 

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment. 

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.” 

“you and me both,” strange clips. 

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.” 

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing black socks with white shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.” 

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’” 

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

[the-winter-spider]

The First Countdown | Drabble

Word Count: 1k

Warnings; Fluff

A/N: Wrote two small bucky barnes drabbles for new years eve! A happy and a sad one lol this is the happy one

----

The compound thrummed with life, a tangible hum of celebration that seeped into every corner. Strings of twinkling lights crisscrossed the common room, casting a warm, golden glow over the space, while garlands of fresh pine lent their crisp, woodsy scent to the festive air. Somewhere in the background, the faint, familiar aroma of spiked cider mingled with the sharper tang of whiskey and champagne. Music drifted softly through the room, the kind of melody that encouraged easy smiles and light feet, punctuated by bursts of laughter that spilled freely from Earth’s mightiest heroes.

For tonight, there was no looming threat to battle, no world to save—just a rare, stolen moment to toast another year gone by. Victories, defeats, and all the gray spaces in between had brought them here, together. And finally they celebrated.

Bucky lingered on the fringes, leaning against the wall with practiced ease, a tumbler of whiskey resting coolly in his vibranium grip. The glass felt solid, grounding—a small piece of reality he could hold onto while the room spun with warmth and life he wasn’t sure he deserved to be part of. The laughter, the camaraderie—it was all too light, too free, too far removed from the weighted existence he carried. He shifted uncomfortably, the shadows his ever-reliable company.

But, of course, Sam wouldn’t let him disappear so easily.

“You know what they say about New Year’s Eve kisses, Barnes,” Sam had teased earlier, his grin sharp enough to cut through Bucky’s carefully built defenses. “Start the year off right, and maybe—just maybe—the rest of it falls into place. And guess what? Y/N’s mission got delayed. She’s here tonight. Just saying.”

The mention of your name had sent a jolt through him, a sensation that was equal parts anxiety and anticipation. It was a reaction he couldn’t quite control, no matter how tightly he tried to rein himself in. You were supposed to be thousands of miles away, tangled in a mission too classified for even Sam to pry into. But now, you were here. The universe had handed him a gift he wasn’t sure he deserved, wrapped in the tantalizing possibility of seeing you tonight.

For four years, you’d been a steady presence in his life. Strong, sharp, endlessly competent in the field—and yet, somehow, the kind of person who could make even the most broken pieces of him feel seen. He’d watched you from the edges of crowded rooms, caught off guard by the way your laughter could fill a space, bright and alive in a way that felt like a challenge to his carefully cultivated shadows. You were kindness and strength, grace and grit, a force he hadn’t quite figured out how to resist.

And across the room, there you were. You stood with Natasha by the makeshift bar, a flute of champagne in hand, your head tipped back in laughter. The soft glow of the holiday lights danced across your features, but it was your smile that truly lit the room. You were so radiant it made Bucky’s chest ache.

“Tick tock, man.” Sam’s voice, ever the sharp prod, pulled him out of his thoughts. “You’ve got, what, five minutes left? Make your move, or you can just keep standing here, brooding like a Shakespearean ghost.”

Bucky shot him a withering look, but the words still dug in. He knew Sam was right—about the time, about the opportunity, about the fact that the fear clutching his chest wasn’t an excuse. Vulnerability wasn’t his strength, not anymore. But standing there, bathed in the glow of your laughter, the idea of not trying was unbearable.

“Ten… nine…” The countdown had begun, the crowd surging with energy as the new year loomed.

Bucky moved.

The decision wasn’t conscious—it was instinct, propelled by something deeper than thought. The throng of partygoers became a blur as he wove his way through, dodging Steve’s attempt to pull him into a conversation and evading Thor’s hearty, oblivious gestures. His focus was singular: you.

Across the room, you weren’t immune to the moment either. Natasha was speaking, but her words were a soft hum compared to the pull of your gaze. Bucky had been on the edges all night, his blue eyes catching yours like a quiet invitation, equal parts intensity and hesitation. There was something magnetic about him tonight, a vulnerability that softened the edges of his stoic exterior. And now, as he crossed the room, his purpose clear, your breath caught.

“…three… two…”

Time seemed to collapse as he reached you. His hands came up to gently cup your face, the cool touch of his vibranium fingers startling but grounding. You barely had time to register the way his eyes searched yours, a thousand unspoken emotions swirling in their depths, before his lips met yours.

The kiss wasn’t hesitant or unsure—it was tender, urgent, and deeply certain. It carried years of restraint, of unspoken words and stolen glances, released in a single, breathtaking moment. For a beat, the world tilted, the noise of the party fading into a muted hum. For once everything felt at peace.

You froze, caught in the shock of it, but only for a moment. Then, instinct took over. Your arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed him back, your champagne flute forgotten at your side. The world might as well have disappeared entirely—there was only him, his warmth, the steady beat of his heart, and the way his breath mingled with yours like a promise.

When you finally parted, your forehead rested against his, both of you catching your breath. A shy, lopsided smile tugged at his lips, his cheeks tinged pink in a way that made your heart flutter. Around you, the room had erupted into cheers and laughter, the new year officially begun. But none of it mattered.

“Well,” you murmured, your voice shaky but soft, “that’s one way to ring in the new year.”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks flushed, his gaze steady and warm in a way that made your heart flutter. “I’ve got a feeling this year’s gonna be different,” he said, his voice low and full of something you hadn’t heard before—hope. “Maybe even finally my year.”

You smiled, leaning into him, and as the party swirled back to life around you, Bucky knew this was the beginning of something he never thought he’d have—a future worth believing in.

[crazyunsexycool]

The earpiece

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Steve always had an excuse to not date. The world was in trouble, Bucky needed saving and then Bucky needed support. But now there were no excuses. He asked you out and you said yes. But Steve was still that small kids from Brooklyn that girls overlooked. This time though, Sam and Bucky were in his ear… literally.

Warning: fluff I guess, lil angst maybe?

Word count: 1.3k (never in my life have I written something so short.)

This had been a long time coming. It was something Steve had pushed off. He always used the same excuse, there was time for dating later. Then he used Bucky as an excuse. After finding and helping Bucky he had no excuses anymore. But later came much sooner than he’d hoped.

It didn’t help that Steve was absolutely smitten by someone that worked for the avengers. He tried to deny it but it was futile. His cheeks would get rosy and he’d be a bumbling idiot whenever you were around. Now Sam and Bucky were always bickering but they managed to set aside their differences in order to mess with him. Always pushing him to talk to you, both figuratively and literally.

It was borderline embarrassing the amount of times Bucky or Sam would literally push him towards you so that he would have no choice but to speak with you. It was endearing though, seeing the big, strong leader of the world’s mightiest heroes stutter out a greeting while being completely flustered. Most of the time he would go beet red, mumble an apology and a quick hello before going on his way. He’d always miss the shy smile and how you’d be just as flustered as him.

One day though he got the courage to ask you out and now here he was. In a restaurant that Nat suggested sitting across the woman he had been crushing on for the better part of a year. It was private enough so that at least if he embarrassed himself it wouldn’t become news. Steve couldn’t imagine the headlines of gossip blogs talking about how bad of a date he was. His only saving grace was the plan Sam and Bucky came up with. The plan itself was simple, he would wear an earpiece so that if he wasn’t sure about what to say or if he got stuck Bucky and Sam could advise him.

“Have you been here before?” You look up from the menu.

“No, it was a recommendation.”

You hum in acknowledgment as you look back down.

“Smooth.” The earpiece crackles in Steve’s ear, Bucky having been the one to make the comment. “Ask her something, punk.”

“See anything you like?”

“SeE aNyThInG yOu LiKe?” It’s Sam this time. Bucky chuckles in the background.

“Everything looks good enough to eat.” You reply but you’re looking right at Steve. The implication makes Steve blush and agree with you.

“Oh she’s good. I like her. When you mess this up I’m going to ask her out.”

“Not if I get to her first.” Bucky tells Sam.

Steve clears his throat just as the server gets to the table. You both place your orders and wait for the server to leave.

“So.” You both say at the same time and you chuckle. Steve motions for you to go first.

“Did you hear about that music festival that started tonight?”

Steve shakes his head.

“Oh, well I thought you might like it. It’s mostly 30’s and 40’s music. People dress up like they did back then. It seemed pretty cool. It runs all weekend.”

“Alright punk, say these exact words. I think it would be fun, we should check it out.” Bucky says. “Word for word.”

“I think it would be fun, we should check it out.” Steve smiles at you.

“I’d like that.”

After that the conversation flows almost smoothly. There are a few times when you see Steve blush but chalk it up to first date nerves.

“So if you could have any superpowers what would they be?” Steve asked after you had been going back and forth asking silly questions.

“I work in HR, patience is my superpower.”

He chuckles. “Well I sure as hell couldn’t do it.”

“I’ll be right back, I need to use the restroom.” You shoot him a warm smile and get up, heading toward the bathroom.

“Not too bad, Stevie. I mean you could use some improvement but hopefully you don’t fuck it up too much by the end of the night. And stop clearing your throat so much.”

“If you two would shut up for five minutes maybe I could.” Steve says in a hushed tone.

“Dude we just want you to get laid or something. And you like Y/N, you two would be a perfect fit.”

“I know but the two of you bickering in my ear is distracting. She’s going to think I’m crazy.”

“What are you two doing in the comms room?”

“No. Don’t tell Nat what’s going on. She’ll kill me.”

“We’re helping Steve through his first date.”

“I told you not to tell her.” Steve whisper yells.

“Are you using an earpiece?” You ask from beside him. Steve flinches slightly after not having realized you were back. You put your hand out. “Give it here. Who are you talking with anyways?”

“Uh-“

“Don’t tell her anything.” Bucky says before the communication is cut off.

Steve sighs and at least has the decency to look guilty as he pulls the earpiece out of his ear and hands it over.

“I’m so sorry. I was just so nervous about this date. It wasn’t even my idea. Sam and Bucky just wanted to help me out a bit.” He rambles but looks defeated.

The server comes around and places the check on the table which Steve quickly snatches up.

“Let me take you home?”

“Yeah, of course.” You smile at him but he won’t even look at you. His shoulders are slumped as he walks out with you.

****

Although the night ended quickly it still had been lovely. Steve looked like a kicked puppy as he walked up the sidewalk toward the building you lived in. You stood on the first step so that you could be eye level with him and turned around.

“How much of you did I see tonight?” You ask cautiously. Steve’s eyes snap up to yours.

“Almost all of it. I promise they were only there to help me if I got stuck in conversation.”

“So the questions about self defense lessons?”

“Bucky.”

“And the questions about going fishing?” You ask a little more amused this time.”

“Sam.”

“The questions about my hobbies and family?”

“All me.” Steve says.

“Hhmm.” You dig around in your purse to look for your keys.

“I’m sorry I ruined the date tonight.”

“It’s ok.”

“Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Goodnight. See you tomorrow. Let me know what time you want to go.”

Steve, who had started to walk away, turned to look at you. Eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. He walks back towards you before asking, “You still want to go?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

Steve’s blush was back in full force but he smiled anyway.

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow. How about 11:00?”

“Perfect. See you then.” You lean forward and kiss his cheek before walking into your building. Before closing the door you turn back to him. “Don’t let them know how the date ended, I want to see them sweat it out at work.”

Steve laughs but agrees and waves as he finally walks off.

****

You sigh in relief as you finally walk into your apartment. The first thing you do is take off your heels and sit on the couch.

“That went better than expected. Thanks for helping out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I told you Steve is completely taken by you.”

“Still I don’t think I could have gotten through tonight without you. I was so nervous.”

“You did great. You should be a spy, I could train you.”

“I’ll leave the spying up to you Nat. Thanks again, we'll have a girls night soon.”

“Definitely we need to know how the second date goes.”

“You’ll be the first to know. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Both Nat and Wanda say.

You pull the earpiece out of your ear and place it in the small box Nat had given you. At least now you know that you weren’t the only one so nervous about this date that you needed some back up.

Hopefully the second date would go well and this would just be a funny story to tell.

Part 2

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From Vormir, With Love - Part 2

Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, will add as we go on

Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.

[Part 1] [here] [Part 3]

Word count: 3.1k

A/n: after some nice vacations I'm back! Thanks for all your support, and I hope you'll like this chapter!

Taglist: tbd

You were right, June didn't like you bringing one more person along. An Avenger on top of it. Still, she simply gave one look to the newcomer, groaned, and went back to her repairs. You could work with that.

Now, you're hanging in the cockpit of your ship, looking at the star chart. In the five years you spent drifting into space, you never managed to find Earth again. Most Aliens don't care for humans, and don't know where they're from. As for star charts, they cost an arm and a half, so you have to work with the one you have - one which of course doesn't give the common names of planets in human language and no translator has cracked it.

"What are you doing?" The voice comes from behind you, covering the snores of the rest of the crew in the background. Sleep doesn't come as easy to you, even if you have the privilege to have your own bed. For tonight, you decided to give it up to Tim. He looked miserable after the fight with Natasha.

"Looking up at the stars," you answer simply, eyes still on the chart.

"What are you doing in space?" She asks after a moment of silence.

"What are you?" You retort, not even contemplating answering her question, and finally looking up at her. Now that you know who she is, bitterness is starting to build inside you, for her and all the so-called Mightiest Heroes of Earth. You take a deep breath, you don't want to lose focus. "I know for a fact Avengers don't travel that far out without a reason, and clearly something happened." You point at the Aliens who came back from the blip. "Cause those guys appeared out of nowhere three days ago. So, what's up with that?"

"So it worked…" she whispers at first, in a sort of wonder, and you understand she had something to do with all that. She looks at you, searches your face, and for a bit you think she won't answer you. And then she smirks. That surprises you. "You're a smart one, aren't you?" She puts her feet on the board and you glare at them as she keeps talking. "I was here to save everyone from the snap. It's good to see we succeeded." She seems genuinely happy about it, but also troubled.

You hum, and you wonder if that's truly for the best. Memories from the day of the Snap flood back to you.

-

You had never been that scared in your life before. You had no idea where you were, if you were even still on Earth - you guessed that you weren't, because those… people were clearly non-humans. You remembered going to the convenience store down your street, after a long shift at work. The night had already set for a few hours at the time, and as you were about to pay for your ramen pack and soda, those things came out of nowhere. You tried to hide, to fight, but it was no use. You remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, someone would come and help you. The cops, the military, anyone. Maybe SHIELD or the Avengers had detected that strange activity, somehow, and they were on their way. But no one came.

The aliens took all of you, all the ones that were in the store, and the next time you opened your eyes, you were in what looked like a ship.

You were kept in a cell with the clerk from the store - June, you learned, an engineering student who was working two jobs to pay for college - and food was coming from the ceiling in bags. You quickly realized it was sedated, and stopped eating until your stomach begged for something, anything. Some of the aliens were walking around, probably to keep an eye on the prisoners, and you quickly noticed that the only ones armed were those who had six eyes and a weird stone in the middle of their forehead. There were others, they looked like they were only doing maintenance or cleaning. They had a collar around their neck. This lasted maybe a week, and you kept praying that anytime, at any moment now, someone would come to save you. But once again, no one came.

And then one day… no one came again. No guards. The prison doors opened for apparently no reason, and you took a step outside. Was it a trap? Your naked feet walked alongside other prisoners. Besides June, you couldn't understand any of them - they were all aliens speaking different languages, and the other three humans were nowhere to be seen. You found weapons, and fought some of the aliens. You managed to outnumber most of them with the other prisoners. Soon enough, you were aboard a ship and on your way elsewhere. You remember looking at the star chart with so much hope. Home. It was right there.

-

Home is nowhere to be seen.

"I wish you could be as optimistic as you." You shake your head.

Now, those Aliens have more manpower than ever, and will certainly come after you again. You will need to lay low for some time before you can keep going on your quest for Earth.

"You're not happy," Natasha simply states. It feels like you're raining on her parade, so you decide to reassure her in order to keep the peace. There is also this weird feeling in your chest that makes you like her smirk, and the stupid spark in her eyes, so you might as well try to keep it there even just for some personal gratification.

"No, it's probably good. Means more people to help us get back to Earth. Which, you wouldn't happen to have a star chart on you?"

"No. But I might know someone who does." Here is the smirk again, thinning her full lips that you could kiss right now if she is telling the truth. You lunge towards her and put your hands on her upper arms, one on each side, squeezing her. She looks surprised, eyes wide, almost ready to fight but she keeps it in her.

"Wait? Are you for real?! This would be fantastic!"

"Why don't we calm down first, hm?"

You want to throw a party and dance of joy. "Calm down? It's been more than five years!" You whisper yell to not wake up your guests. "I can finally go home!"

She decides you're a lost cause when she sees you walk towards June's quarters and almost fall from dancing happily between the bodies sleeping on the ground. Somehow, seeing this after the past few days makes her smirk slightly, her heart lighter. You disappear around a corner just as the memory hits.

-

When she opened her eyes, it was to a dark sky and crimson surroundings. Her clothes were damp from the small pools of water under her. Not far was the sharp cliff she jumped from. She remembered the last thing she saw. Clint. She sat up. He was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered if her sacrifice didn't work, because right now, she was very much alive. No. She should still be dead. She should still be… free. She swallowed. She never wanted to die. But. But… she stood up, as tired as ever, and checked her equipment. Her Widow's bites were fried, as were her comms, but she still had her sidearm. Now, she had to find Clint.

He was nowhere to be seen, she realized once she came back up the cliff. No one was here anymore, not even Red Skull, she was all alone. Alone. She was used to it, it was fine.

She checked her comms again. Still nothing, not even statics.

She sat down on the same rocks as earlier. Was it earlier? She searched around her pockets, and found her phone. She was barely able to make it work, but soon enough she realized what her problem was. She was back to today's time, after she left for the past. Clint wasn't here, not because he abandoned her, because the last time he was had been years ago. It suddenly made sense. What didn't was why she was here. But for now, she had a much more pressing question: how was she going to go back to Earth?

Luckily, fate gave her a quick answer.

In the horizon, light caught her eye. Someone was crashing here, and she would only hope to get to you before you left again. With no time to lose, she started her walk.

-

"Are you sure she isn't brain dead? 'Cause she ain't answering." June's voice brings Natasha back to the present. She arches an eyebrow and tilts her head the slightest in her direction.

"See, not dead," you say in triomph.

"Why don't you stop talking about me like I'm not here." Her tone is harsh, and it shuts up both of you. You rub the back of your neck and look away, ashamed, while June just crosses her arms almost in defiance. It's still enough to get back to the main subject.

"Whatever," June starts, "do you really know people who could help us?"

The irreverence aside, there is some fear in her voice, and it quickly clicks in Natasha's head: she's scared to get her hopes up. It's a fear she understood all too well; hope is always the first step towards disappointment. Hope is dangerous. But sometimes it's all you have, and she isn't about to disappoint those lost women.

"Yes, we just need to find them."

"And who are they exactly?" asks a very guarded June. You elbow her, and she simply send you a glare, ignoring your suddenly very shiny personality. You'd never been one to be pessimistic, despite everything that happened, you just knew how to hide it, but right now you were almost beaming with joy.

"Carol Danvers, ideally, then Peter Quill, or Thor, one of the two if we don't have a choice." She shrugs like this will be easy. To be fair, they are very well known individuals. June looks at you to see if you know who she's talking about, since you're well informed usually. You are always the one going outside the ship to find the missions. It takes you a second to know exactly who she's talking about, and you nod.

"Carol is our best bet, anyone with authority has a way to contact her. We can just go to the federation probably, but the Nova Corps could be closer. I think they have an outpost a few jumps away…" You're already thinking, looking back at your star chart to find the closest place where you can contact Marvel, or whoever the other two were - well, Thor you know, but the name of Peter Quill sounds made up, even if it titillates your brain. "I'll check the radio as soon as we leave Vormir's atmosphere. Something is blocking the communications."

June nods, then looks at Natasha with distrustful eyes. "You better be telling the truth or you'll pray you did."

Somehow, the threat works on you too and you move on your seat in discomfort. June always was the more serious of the two of you, and held an even bigger grudge against the Avengers than you did. It reminds you that maybe you should distrust a spy a little bit more, as you eye the ship's console. Natasha is less impressed, but still takes things seriously.

"I am," she simply reaffirms in all seriousness. You observe her, and she seems genuine to you. It looks like it's enough for June too, because she simply goes back to her bed.

"Sorry for June," you say when she's out of earshot. "She's… we both went through a lot. Makes things hard." Hard to trust, hard to forgive. You're happy that she could help, but you also know tomorrow the bitterness will still be there. Of course, Natasha knows too well what you mean, the vulnerability that comes with the short explanation, and she offers a simple nod in understanding, her eyes expressing all of her empathy.

You're thankful for it.

A small silence establishes itself, during which you look each other in the eyes. It's easy to fall in hers, the infinite pool of water so inviting, so full of hurt to learn and comfort to find. You could read a full life, and something more, a spark no one else had. It lasts a few seconds, before you get back to the star chart, and she stands up to go get some water. When she comes back, she brings some to you, and you thank her in a whisper. She starts to clean her weapons and tinkers with her widow bites to try and repair them. While she does that, she notices you talking to yourself when you plan your next course and smiles slightly while looking down. Her lips crack from three days spent in what was virtually a desert.

Somehow, it makes her think of home.

-

Everything is ready for take off, and as your hand hovers over the handle ,you send a look to June. She gives you a thumbs up, but you know she isn't as sure as she looks, you know she probably thinks there is a small uncertain chance you will crash again and not survive this time. But with the help of Natasha - turns out she's a good mechanic at least - and some of the maintenance crew, you managed to repair the ship earlier than June told you the first time.

"Okay, up and away we go," you whisper to yourself as you push the thrusters. "Let's hope."

The ship shakes under the building pressure, but it holds. You push them some more as you gain elevation, the ground further and further away, and before you know it, you manage to leave Vormir's atmosphere.

You let out a breath of relief.

The ship stabilizes under you, and you send a thumbs up to June this time. As you go back to the console, your gaze crosses with Natasha's, and you exchange a small smile. You only had brief talks since she joined you, but she always was nice to everyone, if a bit short with Tim. The giant humanoid feline was still suspicious of her, the same way he was suspicious of almost everyone. You mainly tried to ignore the small brewing conflict, but it was getting harder. For now, you were simply happy to be back in space and not in pieces.

"We're green across the board," you announced, and everyone let the reassurance lift the weight off their shoulders. You then focus back on the ship. You still had to have the autopilot calibrated to the nearest jump point that would allow you to access the Nova Corps, then, if you were lucky, Earth.

It takes you little time to get the autopilot calibrated, and once you do you notice Natasha is still watching you, where the others simply went back to their activities. She's leaning against the hull, her arms crossed, a spark of curiosity in her eyes.

"How did you learn to pilot?"

"Observation. When we… commandeered this ship–"

"You stole it?" She raises an eyebrow.

"They were bad people." She nods, and you continue. "We had aliens with us. I just watched them pilot and learned via observation."

"Not everyone could have done that. What did you do back on Earth?" Her interest starts to make you the slightest uncomfortable, but you simply answer with a shrug.

"I worked some job that barely matters anymore."

"Never had a flying lesson?"

You shake your head no, and you notice admiration in her traits. It seems like you impressed her.

"I'm impressed," she confirms. "It takes some exceptional skills to pick up something like that."

Somehow, it makes you blush slightly and your chest rises with pride. You look away to hide it as you feel conflicted, and decide it's probably because the only other person you spent time with the past few years has been June, and she's not one to show admiration for others. Definitely nothing to do with Natasha herself being incredibly competent, and pretty. Very pretty.

Your eyes can't help but wander back to her when you notice the way the dim lights from the ship are highlighting her sharp jaw and her cheekbones, her long lashes projecting their shadows on her delicate skin. You realize you're staring, and that she's actually staring back. It makes you slightly uncomfortable, as you feel that after five years, there isn't much to look at, so you decide to break the brief silence.

"It's not… maybe a bit but– you know, you look tired. Maybe you should rest or something?" You fumble to change the subject. She has the audacity to smirk, and you want to cross your arms like a petulant child who's been caught in the cookie jar. But she's nice, and simply agrees.

"I should. You should too, commander." There is some teasing behind her voice, and you sputter a bit. She doesn't wait for an answer before she ducks back to the other side of the ship.

You stay there for a minute, trying to process the whole conversation. Was she…? Was that flirting? No. No way. You frown, trying to understand what just happened.

"Nope, no way. She's right I'm just tired," you finally settle on. You stand up and go back to the living side of the ship, asking Tim to keep an eye on the trajectory before you join your bunk. It was more a hole in the wall with a mattress stuck in it than anything else, but it was yours. There was another bunk on top of yours, where you kept some of your stuff before the arrival of everyone, but it had been cleared to give space to them. On the other side of the room, there is the same configuration, and on the top bunk you can make the silhouette of the spy. 

It's the last thing you see before you fall asleep, and you wonder how long the newfound safety you felt is going to last.

[papipopsicle]

MERCENARY PART THREE

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Enhanced!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: In which Hydra never seems to give Earth's Mightiest Heroes a break, and while dismantling every known base, they find a weapon. In which this weapon is a young woman whose known nothing but the life Hydra gave her, and a certain super soldier becomes protective of her from the first time they lock eyes. AU AWAY FROM IW&Endgame, ALSO THERE ARE X-MEN

Warnings: swearing, reference to scars

Song: Punching Bag by Palaye Royale

Words: 1.6K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

"Stark Industries and and the Wakanda Outreach programme has helped thousands of mutants and inhumans, why don't we just hand her over to them and be done with it?" Kitty Pryde mulled over the idea, rolling her eyes as the clock ticked over into the third hour of bickering.

Y/N's sedation would wear off within the next half hour and the team were still yet to come to an unanimous decision on what to do with her. She was currently fast asleep on a comfy bed inside a room which restricted the use of her powers- but she didn't know that yet.

Bucky had tried his best to remain objective, but as he watched the large monitor streaming footage from her room, he couldn't help but be reminded of the girl he watched grow up into a woman and how he'd already missed four years of her life.

"I'll monster watch tonight, James." Y/N hummed, playing with a small flame at her fingertips. She looked over her shoulder and found him watching her with worried eyes, yet she just smiled, "You haven't slept for three nights in a row now. Trust me, they'd hurt you a lot more if you fail your mission tomorrow than they will if I'm a bit grouchy. Sleep, moya lyubov."

"She'd still be a great addition to the team," Tony sighed, standing up to stretch his legs, "and by team I mean the Avengers, I don't even know why you're here quite honestly."

Kitty flipped him off before storming out, probably going to find Charles or Raven to vent to them about how much Stark pissed her off.

Natasha leant over the table, eyes not moving from the tablet in front of her, "Is she like you were, Barnes?"

Bucky tensed and looked at the redhead, "In what way?" He asked slowly.

Nat glanced over at Tony before finding the super soldier waiting for her response, "Did they manipulate her mind and create triggers that'd turn her into a murder machine? Is she at all loyal to Hydra?"

"Come on, you saw her earlier, Nat, Y/N had tried to escape that many times they had to chain her up." Steve tried to reason as he saw Bucky's flesh hand clench up.

"We should consider every possible angle though, right?" Bruce spoke up from his seat towards the back of the room, propping his glasses on his nose and taking a better look at the security footage, "She seems harmless, but-"

"She is harmless." Bucky stressed, "Sure, when you look at her file you see a genetically engineered super-assassin with elemental powers, but not one day passed without trying to escape or planning our next escape. And okay, fine, she enjoys violence, but Hydra conditioned her to be that way and she's never had anyone to tell her otherwise. At the end of the day, she's scared- and I don't want her waking up alone."

The soldier felt Steve's hand squeezing his shoulder in comfort, but it felt cold and the sentiment felt short. Bucky watched each pair of eyes fall away from his sight and their voices stayed silent. He shook off Steve's hand and left the room, making his way down to the supervisory level. He looked down at the small piece of technology in his hand, matching the number to the cell like room and entering a six digit code into the keypad from memory. A single second later it pinged and the lights turned green.

The one armed man stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Y/N's healing figure peacefully sleeping. It was a sight to behold, even in tattered clothes and a thick layer of grime and dust covering her, she was anything but a weapon. She was soft and even delicate to the eye, resting as if her mind wasn't plagued with the tortured souls from her past.

Bucky sat down on the cool wooden floor, crossing his legs like he used to at the age of eight, playing tic tac toe with a small Steven Grant Rogers. Those memories didn't feel much like his own, more at peace with the ones of war he shared with Y/N.

"Stop pulling your punches, their hands are worse than yours." Nineteen year old Y/N warned James with a sharp whisper. His flesh knuckles were scorched from her most recent attack, goaded to use her powers by the watchful handlers. Metal collided with bone and he knew on impact two ribs had fractured, a further one would bloom with bruises soon enough. Training was often more taxing than the missions themselves, bored Hydra agents pulling on puppeteer strings to ensure they put on a good show.

Y/N estimated another ninety minutes had past before her handler pulled her away for healing observations, for research rather than well-being purposes. It wasn't long until she found herself flung back into the dingy cell with a kick to the back of her knees and an expired first aid kit thrown to the ground beside her.

Once the door cranked shut, James knelt beside the stoic woman he knew was hurting so deeply within. He collected any supplies for sterilisation and allowed Y/N to collapse under his touch. She curled into his chest as he cleaned the wounds he caused, burnt knuckles stung from the movements but that was numb compared to the torment of seeing her in pain.

James was past the point of blaming himself for any injuries Y/N incurred from training and vice versa, too much of their precious time had already been taken away in arguments of how much the other was not at fault. Hydra allowed them one hour a day together, usually after training, to decompress and recover and mostly hold each other. Y/N had a knack for sneaking out of her cell to be with the super soldier, it took more time stopping her, punishing her and hauling her back than their current routine. Teamwork on missions became more efficient, so they were allowed their hour of peace unless it became a weakness.

That was when Y/N was most aware of time passing by, fingers habitually running over the rigid scars between metal and soft flesh as a reminder James was entirely real. He watched between the fire dancing in her free hand and the peace within tired features, her own eyes burning bright at his constant touch. The hour would soon be up, and there was no fight to leave each other other than the lingering fingertips as they were pulled apart.

"You cut your hair-" Y/N's gravelly voice was cut off with a harsh array of coughs, spluttering dust from her cell's destruction stuck in her lungs. She squinted at the bright sterile lighting, everything in the room intensely white with the exception of Bucky and his all black clothing sat at the bottom of her vision.

He dialled the lights down noticing Y/N's discomfort and handed her an unopened bottle of mineral water. Her eyes carefully surveyed his movements, not considering him a threat as she chugged the liquid gratefully.

"Do you like it?" He asked after a few seconds of silence had filled the air, taking a seat at the side of the mattress apprehensively. Four years had passed and although he trusted the woman he thought was dead with his life, she was indeed alive and Hydra could do a lot of damage in much less time apart. He had so many questions, so many missed touches longed for and so little worry that she was no longer his Phoenix.

Even with grime covering her from head to toe, Bucky couldn't take his eyes away from her as she scrunched her nose playfully and answered, "I'll miss your long hair, but this suits you- you look like a person."

Unlike Bucky, whose memories were fuzzy around the edges, for better or worse Y/N held all of hers. She remembered cutting his hair short for a mission the once and wishing Hydra wouldn’t let it grow out again. But seeing him this time was immaculate- he was his own human, and she looked to the dirt and disheveled clothing on her person and knew she wasn’t. Purely what she was engineered to be and not a thing more, a biological weapon owned only by Hydra.

Bucky sensed the mental downward spiral as she scanned herself, brows knitting together and tears welling threatening to fall.

He corralled her away from those cataclysmic thoughts with a cool touch to her hot fingertips, metal thumb running across the back of her hand soothingly. “It took a bit more than a hair cut, but the days I feel like a person outweigh the days I don’t. And we’ll get you there too.”

“Can I start that tomorrow?” Y/N pouted and lay against the plush pillows behind her head, content with the sounds of metal whirring against her skin that only super soldier hearing could pick up on.

The team, fewer members left in the conference room, watched the interaction from the projection. A few more words were shared before Bucky lay down beside Y/N, both infinitely still but continuing the motions on their joint hands. Steve’s chair rolled back a few inches as he eyed Tony, “Listen, I can already see Bucky following if we send her off somewhere, we’ve got to at least try re-humanising her.”

“Great, we adopted another murder machine- when the first one gets lonely, at least now he’ll have company!” Tony held his hands up in defence when Steve didn’t appreciate his humour, “Alright, Cap. We’ll observe, give it a few days and get to work on project no murder and less machine.”

part four?

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🦋❤️

Another for the emoji drabble game. Double drabble this time!

Stephen doesn't know why it happens. Perhaps a spell was casted on him, maybe a prank by a sorcerer in Kamar Taj; he isn't sure, but whatever it is, it irritates him. It becomes awfully inconvenient, being in such a state, especially when you're on a date with the world's mightiest hero. 

"I… had fun tonight," Tony says to him, when their date is over and they are someplace alone. "We should do this more often. If you'd like."

Stephen can only nod. 

"Yeah. We should." 

He feels a sort of tingling, before a glowing, blue butterfly flutters suddenly out of him. He feels heat creeping up his cheeks and to the tip of his ears at the evidence of his flusteredness.

Tony eyes it for a moment, a smile forming on his lips. He flicks his eyes back to lock them against Stephen's, then down to his lips. Stephen feels his throat tighten as Tony steps ever so closer. 

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Tony mutters, and leans in to capture Stephen's lips in a kiss. A flock of butterflies burst out of him at that, an explosion of flapping wings, fluttering about around them.

[iladkaren]

Avalon Assemble

The tension in the Avengers Tower common room was thicker than Thor's celebratory stew. Steve Rogers, ever the leader, shuffled a deck of cards. "Alright team, time for a different kind of mission. Tonight, we play Avalon."

Iron Man scoffed. "Avalon? You think chitauri diplomacy translates to a social deduction game?"

Black Widow smirked. "Let's see if Stark can tell the truth for five minutes straight, shall we?"

The game began. Steve, ever trusting, drew five cards, revealing himself as a loyal Servant of Arthur. Thor, predictably enthusiastic, slammed his fist on the table. "I too am a loyal servant! We shall crush the forces of Mordred!"

Bruce Banner, ever cautious, drew his cards with a grimace. "Uh, I'm not sure what I am..."

Suddenly, Loki, the resident trickster, cackled. "Excellent! A new pawn for my schemes!" He winked at Steve, clearly lying.

Steve, ever the optimist, beamed. "Don't worry, Loki. We'll see through any deceptions!"

The game devolved into glorious chaos. Black Widow, a proven strategist, played flawlessly, her stoic expression never betraying her role. Hawkeye, ever competitive, accused everyone (including Captain America) of being Mordred's minion.

The highlight came during a quest. Thor, chosen as leader, confidently picked Iron Man and Bruce as his companions. "Together, we shall vanquish the darkness!"

Iron Man grumbled. "Great. Just what I need, babysitting Banner."

"Wait!" Bruce interjected. "My card says I'm a Morgana supporter! I can't go!"

Thor's face fell. "But... but we need your science! And Stark's snarky commentary!"

"This is a disaster!" Captain America declared, trying to maintain order.

Loki, meanwhile, was rolling on the floor, tears streaming down his face. "Oh, the glorious dysfunction! This is better than any alien invasion!"

Somehow, through sheer luck and a surprising amount of teamwork (mostly to spite Loki), the good guys won the first round.

"See, Stark?" Steve grinned. "We can work together... even with a mischievous trickster in our midst."

Loki, still wiping away tears, bowed dramatically. "Oh, Captain Rogers, your faith is so touching. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a reputation for utter chaos to uphold!"

The Avengers, despite the near-meltdown, found themselves laughing. Maybe this social deduction game wasn't so bad after all. It was certainly more entertaining than facing Thanos, even if the stakes were much lower. As the game continued, accusations flew, alliances shifted, and Loki continued to revel in the glorious mess he'd helped create. In the end, it wasn't about winning or losing, it was about the hilarious journey of earth's mightiest heroes trying to decipher truth from lies... with a healthy dose of friendly bickering, of course.

[superdanverstrio]

AI MADE

A/N: this is just stories that AI made and i thought were pretty good

I used VEED.IO script generator if anyone wants to know

Last story hadded: 10 august

poison

the request: Reader gets poison during Tony Stark party, she faint Infront of all the avengers, they are all worried about her especially her girlfriend natasha Romanoff

INT. TONY STARK'S LUXURIOUS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

I find myself in the midst of the most extravagant party I've ever attended. The room is filled with A-list celebrities, politicians, and, of course, the Avengers. Tony Stark knows how to throw a party, and tonight, he's outdone himself. The energy in the room is electric, a cacophony of laughter and awe-inspiring conversations.

I spot Natasha Romanoff, my beautiful girlfriend, across the room. She stands out among the crowd with her elegance and grace. I make my way through the sea of people, eager to reach her side.

As I approach Natasha, I can't help but notice her concerned expression. She takes my hand, her touch reassuring.

NATASHA ROMANOFF (whispering) Are you feeling okay, love? You don't look too well.

I try to brush off her concerns, not wanting to dampen the mood of this incredible event.

ME (smiling weakly) I'm fine, just a bit tired. Must be the excitement of the party.

But as I continue talking, a sudden wave of dizziness crashes over me. The room starts spinning, and I fight to maintain my balance. Panic sets in, and I grab onto Natasha for support.

NATASHA ROMANOFF (concerned) What's happening? Steve! Tony! Help!

The Avengers, with their enhanced senses, immediately notice my distress.

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark rush to my side, concern etched on their faces.

STEVE ROGERS (supportive) Hang in there. We'll get you some help.

As I struggle to stay upright, Natasha calls for medical assistance.

The room falls into a stunned silence as everyone begins to take notice of the commotion. The Avengers surround me, forming a protective circle.

Tony signals for the music to stop, and all eyes turn towards us. The world's mightiest heroes are gathered around a person in need, and the atmosphere in the room changes from one of celebration to genuine concern.

NATASHA ROMANOFF (teary-eyed) Please, somebody, help us!

In the midst of the chaos, I can see the worry in their eyes.

Thor clenches his fists, his strong yet gentle presence giving me hope.

Bruce Banner tries to keep calm, even though I can see his concern bubbling beneath the surface.

Seconds feel like hours as medical personnel finally arrive, rushing to my aid. Natasha refuses to let go of my hand, and the Avengers stand together, ready to fight for me.

VISION (reassuring) Fear not, my friends. Together, we can overcome any challenge. As the medical team treats me, the Avengers stand vigil, refusing to leave my side. Their unity and unwavering support bring tears to my eyes.

From Tony Stark's extravagant party to this unexpected turn of events, the night has taken an unexpected turn. But amidst the chaos, one thing is clear: the bond between the Avengers goes far beyond their superhuman abilities. They are a family, ready to protect and care for each other.

FADE OUT.

kidnapped

the request: reader gets kidnapped and the avengers does there best to find her and when they do find her in the villian's lair she is badly injured and everyone is worried about her espacially her girlfriend natasha romanoff

Title: "The Rescue Mission"

[INTRO]

[Scene: Living room in the Avengers' headquarters. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Bruce Banner, and Natasha Romanoff are gathered around a table, looking worried.]

Tony Stark: Okay, team, I just received a distress call. Our friend and teammate, [Reader's name], has been kidnapped by some evil villain.

Steve Rogers: What? We need to save them!

Bruce Banner: We have to act fast. Any idea where they could be?

Natasha Romanoff: (Looking concerned) I've been working on it. The villain's lair is hidden, but I managed to trace some electronic signatures near an abandoned warehouse.

Thor: Fear not, my friends, for we shall bring [Reader's name] back safely!

[TRANSITION]

[Scene: The Avengers assembling in their iconic outfits, ready for action.]

Tony Stark: (Putting on his Iron Man suit) Time for some heroics!

Steve Rogers: (Equipping his shield) Let's bring [Reader's name] home.

Bruce Banner: (Transforming into the Hulk) Hulk is ready.

Natasha Romanoff: (Checking her weapons) We'll save them no matter what it takes.

Thor: (Holding Mjolnir) By the might of Asgard, we shall prevail!

[TRANSITION]

[Scene: The villain's lair, a dark and eerie place. The Avengers fight through henchmen, showcasing their individual powers and teamwork.]

Tony Stark: (Using repulsor beams) Take that!

Steve Rogers: (Dodge and throwing his shield) No one stands in our way!

Bruce Banner: (Smashing through obstacles as the Hulk) Hulk smash!

Natasha Romanoff: (Displaying impressive combat skills) You picked the wrong team to mess with.

Thor: (Summoning lightning, striking enemies down) The power of thunder belongs to me!

[TRANSITION]

[Scene: The Avengers locate [Reader's name] in a dimly lit room, severely injured.]

Steve Rogers: (Rushing over) Oh my God, [Reader's name]!

Tony Stark: (Looking concerned) We need to get them out of here. Bruce, can you assist?

Bruce Banner: (Reverting to his human form) Of course, let me get my first aid kit.

Natasha Romanoff: (Tenderly holding [Reader's name]'s hand) Hang in there, sweetheart. We're getting you home.

[TRANSITION]

[Scene: Avengers' headquarters, [Reader's name] is lying on a medical bed surrounded by the team.]

Tony Stark: The medical team is doing everything they can. They'll be okay.

Steve Rogers: We need some good news. I can't stand seeing them hurt like this.

Natasha Romanoff: (Holding back tears) I can't imagine my life without them. We have to stay strong.

Bruce Banner: They're strong, and they'll make it through this. We just need to be there for them.

Thor: (Placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder) Together, we shall help them recover, and they shall know the love of their family.

[CONCLUSION]

[Scene: Avengers' headquarters, a few days later. The team is gathered around [Reader's name]'s bed, watching them wake up.]

Tony Stark: Welcome back, slugger. We missed you.

Steve Rogers: We were so worried. Never scare us like that again, okay?

Natasha Romanoff: (Gently squeezing their hand) Don't ever leave my side, please.

[Reader's name]: (Weakly smiling) I love you all. Thank you for saving me.

[Scene fades out with the Avengers smiling, relieved that [Reader's name] is safe.]

[OUTRO]

[Closing shot: Avengers' logo with "To be continued..." written underneath] [END]

hidden injury

the request: the reader gets hurt during on of the avengers mission she hides it so she doesnt worry anyone. some how the wound the reader got is infected and at one of tony's party she passes out because of it

Title: The Hidden Wound

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - DAY

I'm sitting in the living room of the Avengers headquarters, surrounded by my teammates. We're all celebrating another successful mission. Everyone is laughing and sharing stories, but I'm struggling to keep up the facade.

You see, during our last mission, I got hurt pretty bad. But I didn't want to worry anyone, so I decided to keep it to myself.

FLASHBACK: INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

I'm fighting alongside the Avengers, giving it my all. In the chaos, I take a blow that sends me crashing into a pile of debris. I feel a sharp pain in my side but quickly regain my composure and pretend everything is fine.

BACK TO PRESENT: INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - DAY

As I reminisce about that fateful mission, I feel a burning sensation in my side. It's been weeks since the injury, and it seemed to be healing fine. But something isn't right.

The pain intensifies, and I try my best to hide my discomfort.

TONY, with a glass of champagne in hand, spots me from across the room.

TONY: Hey there, [Reader's Name], why do you look like you've seen a ghost?

I force a smile, trying to downplay my growing agony.

READER: Oh, Tony, you know me. Just lost in my thoughts.

TONY: Well, snap out of it! It's party time! Let's enjoy ourselves!

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - PARTY ROOM - NIGHT

The room is filled with dazzling lights, music, and laughter. It's one of Tony's legendary parties. But as the night wears on, I can no longer ignore the pain. The room starts to spin, and my knees feel like jelly.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - PARTY ROOM - NIGHT - LATER

I stumble towards a wall, trying to steady myself. The pain becomes unbearable, and everything goes black.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

I wake up in a sterile hospital room, surrounded by familiar faces - my fellow Avengers, worried sick.

STEVE, dressed in his Captain America suit, steps forward.

STEVE: You scared us, [Reader's Name]. Why didn't you tell us about your injury?

I sheepishly look down, feeling guilty for keeping my pain hidden.

READER: I didn't want to be a burden, or worry any of you. I thought it would heal on its own.

TONY, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, chimes in.

TONY: Sometimes we need to rely on each other, even when we're superheroes. You're part of this team, and that means we're here for you.

NATASHA, the Black Widow, nods in agreement.

NATASHA: So next time, let us know when you're hurt. Besides, healing is what we do best.

Everyone smiles, reassured that our bond as Avengers is unbreakable.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - DAY - WEEKS LATER

I'm back in the living room, but this time, I'm surrounded by my teammates as we share stories from our latest mission. This time, I'm not hiding any pain or discomfort. We've all learned the importance of open communication and relying on one another. As I join in on the laughter, I can't help but feel grateful for being part of this extraordinary team. The Avengers have become my second family, teaching me that we're stronger when we support each other, both on and off the battlefield. FADE OUT.

second story

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - DAY

[Camera pans across Avengers gathered in the living room, chatting and laughing. I, the reader, am sitting on the couch, trying to hide the discomfort caused by a recent injury.]

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - KITCHEN - LATER

[Camera switches to the kitchen, where I'm rummaging through the medicine cabinet. Tony Stark enters, holding a glass of champagne.]

TONY STARK

Hey, [Reader], everything okay? You seem a little off today.

I force a smile, attempting to downplay my situation.

ME

Yeah, Tony, I'm fine. Just a little sore from the last mission, that's all.

Tony's eyes narrow, clearly unconvinced, but he decides not to push further.

TONY STARK

Alright, if you say so. But do me a favor and take it easy tonight, alright? We've all earned a break.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - PARTY AREA - NIGHT

[Camera transitions to the party area, filled with Avengers and various guests. Music is blaring, and everyone is enjoying themselves. I stand by the bar, nursing a non-alcoholic drink.]

STEVE ROGERS

(leaning over from the bar) Hey, [Reader], why aren't you joining us for a drink?

ME

(smiling weakly) Not feeling it tonight, Steve. Got a lot on my mind.

Steve looks concerned but respects my privacy.

STEVE ROGERS

Alright, just remember we're here for you if you need anything.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - PARTY AREA - LATER

[Camera shows me sitting on a couch, looking increasingly fatigued. I try to hide my discomfort from the partygoers.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF

(coming over, worried) [Reader], you don't look so good. Are you sure you're okay?

I muster a smile, but it's evident that I'm struggling to keep up appearances.

ME

I'm fine, Nat. Just a little tired. It's been a long day.

Natasha shoots a concerned glance at Tony, who approaches us.

TONY STARK

Hey, [Reader], I think it's time we had a little chat. You're not acting like yourself tonight.

ME

(trying to play it off) Really, Tony, I'm just worn out. No need to worry.

Tony studies me for a moment, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination.

TONY STARK

Listen, I'm not buying it. Something's definitely wrong. Come on, let's get you checked out.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - MEDICAL BAY - NIGHT

[Camera shows me lying on a medical table while Tony examines my wound.]

TONY STARK

Damn, this wound looks worse than I thought. How did you manage to hide it from all of us?

ME

(voice trembling) I didn't want to worry anyone. I figured it would heal on its own.

Tony shakes his head, disappointed but understanding.

TONY STARK

You know, we're a team, [Reader]. That means we watch out for each other. Hiding an infection like this is dangerous.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - MEDICAL BAY - LATER

[Camera shows me lying in a bed, hooked up to an intravenous drip. The other Avengers gather around, looking concerned.]

STEVE ROGERS

You should have told us, [Reader]. We're here to support you, especially in times like this.

I tear up, overwhelmed by their care and concern.

ME

I... I'm sorry. I didn't want to burden anyone.

NATASHA ROMANOFF

You're not burdening us. We're family, remember? Let's make sure you get the rest you need now.

The Avengers exchange understanding glances, determined to take care of me.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - MEDICAL BAY - DAY

[Camera fades out, then fades back in, showing a montage of me recovering with the support of the Avengers. They bring me meals, check on me, and even a few funny moments that make me laugh.]

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - MEDICAL BAY - NIGHT

[Camera shows Tony entering the medical bay, holding a tray with a piece of cake.]

TONY STARK

Hey, [Reader], thought you might need some cheering up. It's your favorite, chocolate cake.

I smile gratefully, touched by their unwavering support.

ME

Thank you, Tony. And thank all of you, for everything.

[Camera zooms out, revealing the Avengers gathered around my bed, offering me encouragement and support.] FADE OUT.

stabbed

the request: reader is on her way to her apartment when she gets stab with a poisoned knife she gathers all her strength to walk to her girlfriend Natasha romanoff's house but she passes out on her doorstep *no narrator

Title: Fight for Survival

[Introduction]

[Scene: Exterior - Busy city streets in the evening]

I'm walking home after a long day, feeling tired but looking forward to seeing my girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff. Little did I know that this walk would turn into a fight for survival.

[Scene: A dark alley - The protagonist walks alone]

As I turn into a dimly lit alley, my heart starts to race. It feels as if someone is watching me. I try to dismiss my fears as paranoia. But suddenly, out of nowhere, a tall shadowy figure appears, lunging at me with a knife.

[Scene: Protagonist's reaction and struggle]

I'm caught off guard, and the knife plunges into my side. Pain surges through my body, and I realize this is no ordinary attack. The blade must be poisoned. I stumble backward, clutching my side, desperate to escape.

[Scene: Protagonist's determination]

Summoning every ounce of strength I have left, I gather my wits and decide to make my way to Natasha's house. She's skilled in combat and knows how to handle dangerous situations. I know she can help me.

[Scene: An exhausting journey]

Each step becomes a struggle as the poison courses through my veins. The world starts to spin around me, and I fight to stay upright. The path to Natasha's house feels like an eternity, but I refuse to give up.

[Scene: Natasha's house - Protagonist's final efforts]

Finally, I reach Natasha's doorstep, but my vision blurs, and my legs give way. I collapse, barely conscious, hoping Natasha will find me before it's too late.

[Scene: Natasha's shock and urgency]

Natasha, with her sharp instincts, senses something is wrong as she arrives home. She opens the door to find me lying unconscious on her doorstep, blood staining my clothes. Panic floods her face as she rushes to my side.

[Scene: Natasha comes up with a plan]

Natasha quickly assesses the situation, realizing the severity of my condition. She knows time is of the essence. She grabs her phone, dialing the emergency services while also reaching out to her allies for assistance.

[Scene: A race against time]

While waiting for help to arrive, Natasha does everything she can to stabilize me. She administers first aid and uses her extensive training to counteract the effects of the poison. With a mask of determination, she refuses to lose me.

[Scene: Paramedics arrive]

The sound of sirens fills the air as the paramedics rush to our aid. Natasha lets out a sigh of relief, knowing that help has finally arrived. The paramedics take over and rush to stabilize me before rushing me to the hospital.

[Scene: Epilogue]

Days later, I wake up in a hospital bed, weak but alive. Natasha is sitting by my side, her eyes filled with love and relief. We share a moment, grateful for each other and the second chance we've been given.

[Closing Shot]

[Scene: Hospital room - Protagonist and Natasha holding hands]

As we intertwine our fingers, I realize how lucky I am to have Natasha by my side. This harrowing experience has only strengthened our bond, reminding us of the power of love and determination in overcoming life's greatest challenges.

[End]

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Fancy

Under the opulent chandeliers of one of Earth's most exclusive dining establisments, members of Blue-Team and Silver-Team gathered at a high-end restaurant, one that catered to the elite. Yet tonight, it played host to Earth's mightiest defenders. John-117, having secured their reservation, was no stranger to the perks of his status within the UNSC. His commendations and heroic deeds had not only earned him respect but also a considerable amount of wealth, which he seldom flaunted but tonight decided to share with his comrades. The dining table was a battleground of culinary delights, yet the approach to the feast laid bare the contrasts among Earth's finest. The Spartan men, including John, Vannak-134, and Fred-104, dissected their meals with the same precision they applied to enemy fortifications. Each bite was calculated, a nod to their ingrained discipline, their plates curated to fuel their bodies with exacting efficiency.Opposite this display of restraint, the Spartan women—Kelly-087, Linda-058, and Kai-125—embarked on a culinary offensive that would leave the chefs in awe and the cutlery trembling. Their plates were heaped with delicacies, each morsel disappearing as if into the void of slip-space, only to be replaced by more.Kelly, with a glint of mischief in her eyes, glanced at John. "You weren't kidding about this place," she said, her voice a vibrant echo in the hush of luxury. "The food's fantastic. Who knew the hero of humanity had such a taste for the finer things?" Her plate, a once orderly arrangement of haute cuisine, now resembled a battlefield post-assault.John, maintaining the composure of a seasoned commander, even in the face of Kelly's teasing, simply nodded, allowing himself the shadow of a smile. "Hey, just because we can survive on MREs doesn't mean we have to," he quipped, his tone light, a rare indulgence in the levity of the moment. Linda's contribution was less verbal, her focus primarily on the art of vanquishing her steak, a task she undertook with sniper-like precision. Yet, her occasional, amused glances towards Kai—who was practically inhaling a dish that had been described with at least three French adjectives—spoke volumes of her dry wit. Kai, for her part, paused just long enough to cast a challenging look around the table, her expression daring anyone to comment. When no one did, she dove back into her meal with renewed vigor, a whirlwind of culinary devastation that defied the serene elegance of their surroundings. Vannak-134 watched the scene unfold with an expression of bemused admiration. "I'm startin' to think there's some competition here," he observed, his voice a low murmur intended for Fred's ears alone. Fred chuckled softly. "If there is, I'm content to concede victory to them. This ain't a fight we're able to win." His gaze lingered on the women, his amusement tinged with a hint of pride. Their conversation meandered through tales of past exploits and shared challenges, the camaraderie palpable in the air around them. For a brief interlude, they were not the galaxy's guardians but simply friends, reveling in the joy of each other's company. As the evening drew to a close, John's gaze swept over his team, a sense of contentment settling over him. Rising from their seats, they stepped back into the night, the memory of the evening a light against the darkness of their relentless crusade. But for those few hours, they had been unconquerable in a different arena, champions of camaraderie and the simple, profound joy of breaking bread together.

@biomecharnotaurus

@mrtobenamedlater

@asimplesimpsimping

@authortobenamedlater

@ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask

@killer-orca-cosplay

[paulinawoodpecker]

Tad's Mightiest Speech

@jakkiisthatboy2

Tad: guys!

Tad: if we need to defeat her, then we need to work together

Tad: and it doesn’t matter if we’re from different teams, we still got each other.

Tad: and I’m going to be right here with you all and we’ll make it to this crystal cave tonight!

Tad: I promise you that I’ll always help you and protect you all from this horrible situation

Tad: which is why I’m going to be your bravest hero!

[beefromanoff]

Going Under Ch. 9

summary: the avengers attend the concert, more “fake” romance, etc. so fun!

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: shut up and dance - walk the moon

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: this one is SO LONG, and I wanted to make it longer but I had to cut it so I could get it posted. I just kept adding and adding and adding. I think the next chapter will pick up right where this one left off, though! let me know what you think! xoxo

chapter list/links - xo

________________________________________

The lights dimmed and the crowd roared at the packed Madison Square Garden. Spotlights scanned the crowd and sent light beams into the sky, signaling to the entire city that something massive was happening. This was the first of three nights in New York, the final leg of the tour in America before the team flew off to begin the international shows. This was the biggest crowd the tour had drawn thus far, and the biggest Gianna had ever performed in front of in her career. 

Standing beneath the stage, Gianna shifted her weight from side to side as her glam team touched up her lip gloss and gave her hair a final spray. She listened for the cues from the sound crew and drew in a deep breath. Gianna wasn’t phased by the size of the crowd, she felt as though the crowd sizes would start to blend together. When she was on stage with the lights in her eyes, the deafening screams all shook her the same. Whether it was 1,000 people or 100,000 people, she would give everything she had to each performance. 

Tonight, there was a new level of pressure. 

Tonight, the Avengers would be in attendance. 

In an effort to surprise Bucky, Gianna had arranged for all of them to be invited and gifted a private VIP box suite to watch the show. She hoped that seeing his friends would assuage some of the loneliness she could only imagine Bucky felt. Loneliness was a feeling all too familiar to Gianna, but the difference was that Bucky actually had people back home to miss. He deserved to see them before they left the country for three months. 

Selfishly, Gianna wanted to meet them too. Not just because she, like most of the world, was enthralled with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, but because she wanted to see another side of Bucky. The two parts of him she knew so far, she struggled not to be completely enamored with. 

The first side she encountered was his stoic side, all business. He had an icy stare that sometimes even made Gianna nervous, although it typically disappeared the minute his eyes came to rest on her. This side of Bucky was strong, serious, dependable. He was consistent and protective, one hand leading them and one hand guiding Gianna. He was equal parts terrifying and comforting. 

The second side was softer, more vulnerable, but only slightly. This side of Bucky was where Gianna discovered his lopsided smile, and how it may as well register on the Richter scale with the way it shook her. His eyes could turn from icy to warm in a split second if Gianna caught him off guard with the right joke or sarcastic comment, and it became her personal mission to make it happen as often as possible. He leaned into her when they sat, and seemed to relax when they were alone with each other. This Bucky was oozing with charm, even though he blushed every time she would return the same flirtatious energy. Gianna was smitten with this Bucky, although she’d never let herself admit it. 

She couldn’t get enough. Considering Bucky served as her personal security, with nearly round the clock hours, that was saying something. Where she used to wish for the tour to fly by so she could recover and return to writing, her favorite part of her career - she now wished for the days to slow down. The end of the tour would bring the end of Bucky’s assignment and that was a reality Gianna wasn’t ready to face. 

“Gianna, position please.” 

Her mind snapped into autopilot as the same words from the same stage manager were uttered for the umpteenth night in a row. She climbed onto the dark acrylic platform and stood, cocking her hip to the side. She felt hands at her back flipping her receiver on, and she reached to adjust her earpiece in her ear. 

“T2, we’re good to go backstage. On you.”

“Roger. Lifting in 5, 4, 3…” 

The countdown coming through the other end of the walkie talkie faded away as Gianna slipped into her onstage persona. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose. The rhinestones on her microphone pressed into her palm as she squeezed it in her right hand. The platform slowly started to rise, and with it, the volume of the crowd. 

The first few notes of the song began to play and the crowd absolutely erupted. As her strawberry blonde head rose through the center of the stage, every single bit of glitter and sequin on her body caught the light. 

As the platform clicked into place, Gianna stepped off and began singing. Completely on autopilot, she could only think about the fact that she had three more eight-counts before the choreography had her turn around. Aka, when she could steal a glance into the wings, where she hoped Bucky stood. Every single show, he was in the same place. Consistent. Waiting for her off stage right, encased in shadow. Every single show, she found every opportunity to pick those blue eyes out of the dark. 

When the time came, Gianna flipped her hair and led the duo of backup dancers walking towards the massive screen. As she strut, fully in character, her eyes darted to the side of the stage. Sure enough, Bucky stood, hands in his pockets, grinning from ear to ear. 

Gianna couldn’t help but smile, breaking her seductive, bedroom-eye look that she typically wore for the first few songs. Feeling the warmth in her stomach, Gianna raised the microphone back to her lips, determined to put on the best show of her life. 

Avengers POV

In the VIP box, the gang was full of energy at their night out. Although they lived in one of the most lively cities in the world, it was rare that they ever took advantage. Especially all of them together. The room was dimly lit, with all the light coming in from the stage in front of them. With their vantage point, directly in front of the stage and high enough to look slightly down, they could see everything. 

The suite was massive, so it easily accommodated the Avengers. After helping themselves to the fully stocked bar, the gang made their way to the balcony to watch the show. The average concert-goer couldn’t possibly see Bucky in the wings, but the Avenger’s weren’t the average concert-goers. That left them privy to the front row few of their Super Soldier friend looking almost giddy as he watched the show. 

As Gianna pranced across the stage, hitting each beat with her perfectly timed choreography, one move caught the eye of every Avenger. As she danced, Gianna tossed her microphone up and caught it backhanded, seamlessly flowing into the next move. 

“Wait -” Peter exclaimed, pointing open-mouthed at the stage. 

Sam and Cap caught each other’s eye, mouths gaping. 

“That move look familiar, Cap?” Nat crooned, winking at Steve. 

“It should,” Tony interjected. “That move was almost the last thing he saw when Cyborg was the one doing it.”

Steve shook his head, laughing, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that a world-famous pop star just casually threw one of the world’s most dangerous assassin’s signature moves into her choreography. Maybe there was more going on than Bucky had let on. 

Crossing her arms and leaning onto the railing, Natasha shouted to Steve. “So, Captain, how long do you think it'll take for Bucky to confess his undying love for this girl?”

Steve smirked.  “Oh, I'd say about as long as it takes Tony to admit he's not the center of the universe.”

Tony scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Hey, I am the center of the universe! Just ask JARVIS.”

“It doesn’t count if you programmed him to say that.” Nat rolled her eyes.

Stepping forward with a seltzer in one hand and vodka cranberry in the other, Wanda giggled. “I must admit, it's quite amusing watching Bucky try to play it cool. His eyes practically turn into heart emojis every time he looks at Gianna.”

Peter laughed, then immediately got quiet so as not to draw attention to the fact that he had a beer in his hand. Tony looked over disapprovingly, raising an eyebrow, then turned back to the stage as Peter gulped.

Natasha stood straight, sipping her gin and tonic. “I'm sure Bucky thinks he's being subtle, but the guy's about as discreet as Tony trying to get the attention back on himself whenever Thor’s on-planet.”

“Hey, that’s two digs in a row, I’m gonna start adding to your tab with the next one.” Tony pointed at Natasha and Steve, laughing at his fake rage.

“Seriously though guys, get it all out now before Robocop makes the grand introduction. God knows if we embarrass him, the odds of him making a move will drop from zero to negative eleven-teen.” Tony warned. 

“What, are we just supposed to play dumb and pretend we can’t see him standing there all googly-eyed?” Nat teased.

“As much as I hate to say it,” Sam strode forward, meeting them at the railing. “Tony’s right. That man's got more emotional baggage than the entire airport at Thanksgiving. He needs to decide if and when he’s gonna ‘fess up, but on his own. Lord knows if I get involved, he’ll put me through another wall.”

“Yeah, let’s not run that one back, my drywall guy is getting sick of hearing from me.” Tony snarked.

Wanda, ever the romantic, brought the subject back. “If Bucky can't find the courage, maybe we should set up little…romantic intervention. Like a meet-cute, but they already met! We could lock them in a room together until they spill their feelings or make out or something.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, because trapping two people in a room always ends well. Just ask me and Steve about that elevator incident.”

Natasha smirked. “I’m sure they have plenty of time locked in rooms together, you guys saw that morning-after photo he sent. Maybe it’s not the same Buck who left the compound three months ago.”

“Awwww, little Barnes, all grown up.” Sam elbowed Steve, who grinned and looked down at his beer before anyone got him to confess what he knew about the staged photo. 

“If he could get her in bed, surely he can get her to dinner. It’s more of the awkward dinner conversation I’d be concerned about, the man’s only ever said five words to me.” Sam continued.

“Have you considered that it’s just because it’s you?” Nat winked at Sam, her voice teasing. 

“Hey now -” Sam warned, laughing. Steve took his shoulder and turned him back to face the arena, wanting to change the subject to spare Bucky the further discussion. He looked back to his friend, standing off to the side. 

Steve sipped his beer, watching the concert with a sense of awe. He knew that Gianna was talented, but seeing her perform live was something else entirely. Her voice was powerful, her stage presence commanding. She didn’t seem to tire or lose energy, even two hours into the show. Steve could see the beads of sweat on her forehead, but she didn’t seem to be affected.

As he watched her perform, Steve couldn't help but notice the way Gianna snapped her head to look backstage any chance she got. He followed her gaze to the backstage area with his super soldier eyesight and saw Bucky watching Gianna with a look of pure adoration on his face.

Steve POV

I stole glances at my fellow Avengers, who were fully engrossed in the performance. My attention was elsewhere, fixed on Bucky, standing near the edge of the stage, his posture attentive and his eyes locked on Gianna.

The soft glow of the stage lights illuminated Bucky's signature features, making his eyes shimmer with a mix of admiration and longing. His dark hair was styled, but there was an uncharacteristic hint of dishevelment, as if he had run his fingers through it nervously. Dressed in his standard dark jeans and leather jacket, he seemed to blend seamlessly into the shadows, like a guardian angel watching over Gianna.

Bucky's gaze never wavered from her graceful movement across the stage, his eyes tracing every step, every note she sang. It was as if the world around him had faded into the background, leaving only Gianna's presence to captivate him. His normally stoic demeanor had softened somehow, replaced by a subtle vulnerability that only a person who really knew Bucky could detect.

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I observed him. 

The sight of Bucky, usually so guarded and reserved, wearing his heart on his sleeve was a beautiful contradiction. The man who had once been a weapon was now completely defenseless against the girl he’d fallen for.

I glanced at the rest of the Avengers, who were caught up in the theatrics on stage. Tony's eyes sparkled with mischief and liquor as he tapped his foot to the rhythm, while Natasha's dance moves made a play for his attention. Wanda's eyes were wide, taking in the entire atmosphere, seeming like the normal teenage girl she never got a chance to be. The suite was full of my closest friends, enjoying the oh so rare night free from the pressure of saving the world. 

The fact that Gianna had afforded us this night alone was reason to be grateful to her, seeing the Avengers laugh and dance and truly let themselves relax.

But I couldn't tear my gaze away from Bucky. I wanted nothing more than for him to build a life, find someone to share it with. And yet, at this moment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. The way Bucky looked at Gianna, as if she held the universe in the palm of her hand, was something I yearned for, something I had had and lost.

Deep in my thoughts, I barely noticed Gianna finishing her last song, the applause thundering through the venue. She was thanking the crowd, the band, the crew, and taking her bow. I stepped forward to the edge of the balcony to finish out the show with my friends.

Gianna x Bucky POV

As the concert came to a close, Gianna not-so-surprised everyone by returning to the stage for an encore. The song she and Bucky had written together wasn’t officially recorded or released, but thanks to the internet, had become a fan favorite. Everyone who attended the concert expected to hear it, the new signature encore song.

As Gianna walked back out onto the stage by herself, dropping the overly dramatic and sexualized persona she often used to perform, she approached the piano. 

Sitting down, she spoke into the microphone and cut through the crowd. 

“I’m sure you all know what’s coming, but I want to tell you anyways.” Thunderous applause and cheering ensued. Gianna smiled.

“This song was written on the road for this exact tour, and we haven’t quite had time to record it yet. Don’t quote me on this…but it may be my favorite song yet.” She paused to let the crowd calm down, smiling into the microphone. 

“I wish I could take all the credit, but this song was inspired by and co-written by someone who means more to me every day. This one’s for you.” As she finished her introduction, Gianna’s eyes were locked on the side of the stage. Without breaking her gaze, she began to play, fingers dancing across the keys. Every time she sang Going Under her voice sounded more raw, more vulnerable. The longer she knew Bucky, the more she had to wrestle with the things he’d been through, the more the song felt gut-wrenching to deliver. The pain and emotion was evident in her voice, captivating the crowd.

After her encore performance, Bucky stood offstage, waiting to greet Gianna. She blew a final kiss to the audience and strode backstage, eyes bright with adrenaline. Looking for the one person she always sought out after a show, Gianna spotted Bucky leaning against one of the speakers, a huge grin on his face. 

"Every time I think you can’t get any better, you prove me wrong.” He handed her a bottle of water and pulled her into his side, a one-armed hug that left them both wanting more. 

“You killed it out there, but what else is new." he said, teasing her.

Gianna rolled her eyes, laughing. "Thanks, Bucky. I had to show off a little for your friends,” she winked.

“From the little bit I saw of their box, it looked like they most definitely enjoyed themselves. I haven’t seen Stark dance in…well, I haven’t seen Stark dance. You should be proud.” 

As they walked back to the green room, Tom approached them with a clipboard. “Ms. Cruz, your guests, would you like me to bring them backstage? We can arrange for security to escort them here if you’d like to introduce yourself.” 

Gianna looked at Bucky nervously, as though looking for reassurance. 

“I mean, yeah, I’d love to meet them, if they don’t mind coming back here. They’ve already been here for over three hours, I hate to make them stay just to say hi to me.” She pulled her earpiece out and dropped it on the vanity, unwinding the cords from around her back. 

“Gianna, doll, I hate to break it to you, but you’re kind of the main attraction here.” Bucky sat down next to her in the dressing room chair, shrugging. 

Blushing, Gianna nodded at Tom. 

“Sounds good, we’ll send for them now. You should have about ten minutes if you want to change or freshen up.” Tom closed the door and left them alone. 

As much as Gianna wanted to take off her boots, she felt like wearing her stage ensemble would present the best. At least, it would make her look cooler than the sweats she planned to wear back to the hotel. She sat next to Bucky in the unoccupied chair and flipped the vanity lights on. 

“So, should I be nervous?” Gianna asked, applying a new coat of pink gloss to her lips.

“If anything, I should be nervous. I know at least three of them are planning to embarass me as much as they can as quickly as they can.” Bucky ran a hand through his hair. 

“Better you than me.” Gianna winked. “Oh, and are we still pretending we hooked up? Did you ever come clean?”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly and he chuckled, looking down at his lap. “I told Steve it was staged, but everyone else still thinks it’s real.” He paused. “You don’t have to pretend it’s like that…it's funny, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

“Yeah, Buck, I’m super uncomfortable with you.” Gianna rolled her eyes as she lifted her long hair off of her neck and fanned herself. “Need I remind you that you’ve witnessed me cry, trip and fall numerous times in rehearsals, you’ve seen every stage of the glam process - most of which is NOT glamorous, probably heard me talk in my sleep, and I’ve probably even drooled only you when I fall asleep on your lap in the car.” 

Bucky laughed, nodding. “Only once or twice.” 

She reached out and gave him a light shove. “The point is, I can’t be uncomfortable with you.” 

Her words rang in the air as they both processed what Gianna had said. Their smiles faded but their eyes remained locked on one another, both wanting to speak but neither knowing what to say. The moment was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. 

“Everybody decent?” Tom’s voice called. 

Gianna perked up immediately, the familiar mischievous twinkle returning to her eye.

“Oh, God, one sec!” She called out frantically, although she remained sitting in her chair. She turned to the mirror and mussed her hair up, then turned to Bucky and ran her perfectly manicured hands through his as well. Winking at him, she leaned down and planted a warm, sticky, lipgloss-y kiss on his neck, just below his jawline. Subtle enough it wouldn’t seem like an obvious plant, but visible enough to be noticed. 

“Okay, come in!” Gianna stood, smoothing her hair without making any real effort to correct it. Bucky stood behind her, clearing his throat as the door opened. 

One by one, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes filed into the dressing room. 

Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff approached Gianna first, smiling warmly. Gianna pulled them both into a hug before stepping back and introducing herself. 

“Hi, I’m Gianna, I’m so glad you guys could make it! It was such an honor to be able to perform for the Avengers, I mean come on, this is so much cooler than having Tony Romo in the suite.” She gushed. 

Wanda seemed starstruck, but Natasha spoke for them both. “It was our pleasure, thank you for having us. This bunch of morons isn’t always suitable for public appearances.” She gestured behind her to where Steve and Sam had gone to talk to Bucky, and were now mock fighting. 

“So that’s Sam, Peter, Steve, and of course, Tony.” Natasha pointed everyone out, landing on a man in a suit Gianna estimated to cost around $4,000. 

“Tony Stark, otherwise known as the man who helped provide you with your own personal Brutus for the road.” He reached out and shook Gianna’s hand, his voice oozing confidence. 

“Well, Mr. Stark, it sounds like I owe you one.” Gianna put on her best doe-eyed look as she shook his hand slowly. 

Tony cocked an eyebrow, amused. 

“Glad to see it’s a good fit. Barnes can be a little abrasive, I was hoping there wouldn’t be too much friction.” Stark said, clapping a hand on Bucky’s back. 

“I’m happy with the amount of friction there’s been.” Gianna said cooly, not breaking eye contact with Tony. 

Sam nearly choked on his drink. Steve patted him on the back, chuckling and looking over at Bucky, who looked equal parts shocked and infatuated. Wanda and Nat exchanged glances, and Peter looked like he’d witnessed something he wasn’t supposed to see. 

“Alright, alright, you guys, give Gianna some space. She just performed for three straight hours, something none of you neanderthals would know anything about.” Nat winked at Gianna as she began to usher the men out. 

“We’re all probably gonna go back to the Tower and hang out for a while if you want to join us.” Wanda offered, hanging back in the room. 

“Oh wow, yeah, that would be great! I don’t have to do soundcheck until tomorrow afternoon, so I can stay up past my bedtime.” Gianna elbowed her teasingly. 

“Perfect, Bucky knows where to go. See you soon!” Wanda exclaimed, blowing a kiss over her shoulder as they left. 

Steve was the final one remaining in the room with Gianna and Bucky. “Looks like I’ll see you in a few.” Reaching out, Steve flipped Bucky’s collar down to reveal the pink gloss mark on the Super Soldier’s neck. Steve raised an eyebrow and smirked, turning to leave the room. 

“Gianna, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Steve politely nodded at her, shaking her hand. 

“Pleasure’s all mine.” Gianna mock curtsied. 

As the door shut behind Steve, Gianna turned excitedly back to Bucky. 

“Oh, my GOD, I can’t believe I just met the Avengers. I can’t believe I’m going to go have drinks with the Avengers at Avengers Tower. I can’t believe I just convinced the Avengers that I’m sleeping with another one of the Avengers. What the ACTUAL fu-” Gianna exclaimed, throwing her hands up. 

Bucky laughed at her, too excited to begin to sort through his emotions. 

“Come on doll, let’s get you changed. You’re a little overdressed for cocktails at the compound.”  

Steve POV

As we walked back to the parking lot where the helicopter was waiting, I turned to Natasha and Tony.

"Bucky's got it bad," I said, hearing the amusement in my own voice.

Natasha nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "He’s smitten, for sure."

Tony grinned. "I always knew I had a knack for matchmaking," he said, his voice joking. "Maybe their firstborn should be named after me."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't think they're quite at that point yet,"

“Wait until they’ve had a few of my world famous dirty martinis. Wouldn’t be the first time they’ve led to a conception.” Tony remarked.

[rabidfirefoxfan]

So, Turns out I'll be watching the first season of both X-Men Evolution and Earth's mightiest Heroes for the next few weeks. because I want to at least try to make more positive posts so if you're open to talking about either I think it be fun

Yeah Sure. I saw your post. It's Monday and Thursday right? I'll try to watch the first episode of EMH tonight so we can talk about it tomorrow. I want to talk more about Marvel but most Marvel Content Post Pure Disney isn't very good IMO. Can't wait to watch Content that actually tries.