#past pepper x tony

[m4rv3l-girl]

Happens to the best of us

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky wants babies.

Requests Open!

Warnings: implied smut

Bucky couldn’t help but stare.

He leaned against the kitchen counter of the compound, arms crossed, sipping at a beer that had long since gone warm. The raucous sounds of the Avengers’ party filled the air—laughter, music, the occasional clang of plates or bottles—but all of it was background noise to him. His gaze was locked on you, on Y/N, across the room, sitting on the floor in the living room.

Morgan Stark was giggling loudly, hands waving excitedly as Y/N built an elaborate tower of colorful blocks, her soft voice guiding the girl through every step of the process. “And look! If we put this one right here—” Y/N placed the final block delicately at the top, balancing it with a careful touch. “—we’ve got ourselves a masterpiece.”

Morgan gasped dramatically, her eyes going wide as she clapped her hands together. “It’s so tall! It’s the biggest tower ever!”

Y/N beamed at the little girl, the expression so full of warmth and love that Bucky felt his chest tighten. Morgan clambered into her lap, curling into her with a sense of trust and affection that made something primal stir deep within him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it looked—how easy, how right. You and a little one.

The thought had been poking at the edges of his mind all evening, ever since you’d arrived at the party.

You’d barely left Morgan’s side, whether it was helping her sneak extra desserts from the snack table (something that got you both a stern but fond look from Pepper) or carrying her around on your shoulders as she pretended to fly like Iron Man. And the whole time, Bucky watched. Watched the way you moved, the way you interacted, how effortlessly you handled every tantrum, every sugar-fueled burst of energy.

It made his heart ache—in the best possible way.

“Buck, you good?”

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. Bucky blinked, realizing his friend was standing beside him now, raising an eyebrow as he leaned casually against the counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bucky muttered, tearing his eyes away from you to focus on the beer in his hand.

Sam chuckled. “You’ve been staring at Y/N for the past hour, man. You sure you’re fine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He tried to play it off, taking another sip of the lukewarm beer. “Just…admiring the view, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam smirked. “Sure. You’ve got that look, man.”

“What look?”

“That look. The ‘I’m head-over-heels, wrapped-around-her-finger, ready-to-settle-down’ look.” Sam bumped his shoulder against Bucky’s, chuckling when the ex-assassin groaned in response. “Don’t worry, old man. Happens to the best of us.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but the playful tone in Sam’s voice made it hard to be annoyed. Instead, he just grunted and turned his attention back to you, heart clenching as Morgan cuddled closer into your arms.

“I’m serious, man,” Sam continued, softer now. “You look like you’re thinking about something pretty heavy over there.”

Bucky didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Sam wasn’t wrong.

The night went on, and Bucky stayed mostly quiet, content to let the party swirl around him. Occasionally, you’d glance his way, sending him a bright smile before returning to your playful antics with Morgan. Each time, his heart skipped a beat.

By the time the party began winding down, the kids—especially Morgan—were wiped out, and the Avengers slowly started to trickle out of the compound. You helped Pepper and Tony gather Morgan’s things, giving the little girl a tight hug before bidding the Starks goodnight.

When you finally returned to Bucky’s side, you looked a little tired but completely content. “Ready to go home, doll?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand instinctively found the small of your back.

“Yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you replied with a sleepy smile, leaning into his touch. “It was fun, though. Morgan’s a little firecracker.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bucky chuckled, but his mind was still swirling with thoughts, images of you and Morgan together playing over and over in his head. “You were great with her.”

You shrugged, brushing it off like it was no big deal, but Bucky could see the faint blush coloring your cheeks. “She’s a sweetheart. Honestly, I love kids. They’re fun.”

Love kids. The words echoed in his mind, sending a jolt of warmth through him that he tried to ignore for the moment.

The car ride home was mostly quiet, save for the low hum of the radio in the background. You rested your head against the window, eyes half-closed, while Bucky kept one hand on the wheel and the other loosely intertwined with yours on the center console. It felt…peaceful. Comfortable. Yet, underneath it all, there was this tension building inside him, an unspoken desire simmering just below the surface.

He didn’t know how to bring it up, didn’t know how to start that conversation. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn’t something he could just push aside. Not anymore.

When you got home, you kicked off your shoes and wandered into the living room, stretching your arms above your head with a satisfied groan. “That was a good night,” you said, smiling over your shoulder at him as you began to pull off your jacket.

Bucky followed behind you, his gaze trailing the curve of your spine as you moved. He felt the heat in his chest grow stronger, something heavier, more intense than he’d expected. His mind kept drifting back to the party, to you and Morgan, to the idea that had been slowly taking root in his brain all night.

It didn’t take long for you to notice the shift in his mood. You turned to face him, frowning slightly as you tossed your jacket onto the back of the couch. “You’ve been quiet since we left the party. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Bucky hesitated, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to find the right words. But he couldn’t. So instead, he took a deep breath and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Just thinking, doll,” he murmured, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you searched his eyes. “You’ve been weird ever since we left the party. Tell me what’s going on.”

Bucky sighed, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no escaping this now. He might as well just say it. “It’s just…watching you with Morgan tonight,” he began, his voice soft, almost unsure. “You were amazing with her. It made me think about…about us. About our future.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but then realization dawned on you, your eyes widening slightly. “Our future?” you echoed, your voice just above a whisper. “You mean…?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, his hands tightening on your waist. “I mean…a family. Kids. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Bucky Barnes, are you telling me you’ve got baby fever?”

He groaned, his face flushing with embarrassment as he buried it in the crook of your neck. “Don’t make fun of me, kitten,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilted your head back to give him better access to your neck. “I’m not making fun of you. I just didn’t think I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression serious now. “I’m not saying we have to do anything about it too soon if you don’t want to. But��I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Seeing you with Morgan tonight…it made me realize how much I want that. With you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, your smile softening as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow, tender, full of love and unspoken promises. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want that too, Bucky.”

The way he looked at you then—like you were his whole world, his future, his everything—it sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’d make such a good mommy, doll. I could see it tonight.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart racing as his words stirred something deep inside you. “And you’d be an amazing daddy,” you replied, your voice laced with mischief. “I know it.”

His grip on your waist tightened, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed along your jawline, his lips trailing down to your neck. “You think so?”

“Yup, the best,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body closer to yours, the heat between you building with each passing.

“Doll?” He mumbled into your neck. The warmth of his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.

“Hm?”

“Can I put a baby in you?”

You brain stopped function for a fraction of a second and the air midway up your throat disappeared. “I…Right now?” You asked with a hint of disbelieving laughter.

“Yeah. Right now.” With a firm nod, his metal hand squeezed at the flesh of your ass, which happened to be one of his favorite things to play with.

“Can’t wait until you’re bigger, just swollen with my kids…” The words alone made him shiver. The thought of you sitting there, belly round and full of the babies he put in there, breasts growing and tender, filled with milk for his children. That was hot. It was making a familiar tingle slither across his chest and downwards.

“So? Can I?” He inquired, rather impatiently.

“Uh, yeah-..I…okay.” You nod. Still in shock that this was even happening.

“Don’t sound very sure.” Tightening his grip, he pushes you closer to him and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your core, the small ball of tension forming right under his crotch.

“Yes. Yes, put a baby in me, now.”

“Say please, Doll.”

…………………………………………………………………………………..…………...………..

Part 2…? 🤨

Part 2 is now out!

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓���𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls. 

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

[just-aake]

Widow’s Charm

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha finds herself falling for Tony’s new lab assistant and weapons technician.

Warnings: fluff

Words: 3322

Natasha walks down the hallway towards Tony’s lab, holding her widow bite gauntlets in her hand. Typically, she would have just sent them down to be repaired, but an unexpected mission came up which means she needs them fixed sooner rather than later. Reaching the entrance of the lab, the doors slide open for her as she enters.

“Hey Tony, can you fix–,” Natasha stops when she notices someone else working in the lab.

You look up from your work table at the new voice in the room and see the Black Widow staring at you curiously. You have been working at the Avenger’s Compound as the new weapons technician as well as Tony’s lab assistant for the past few months. 

Since then, you’ve met all of the other Avengers already except for the mysterious Black Widow, though you have repaired some of her equipment that she had sent down previously. 

Tony tells you that she prefers to keep to herself, which you can understand. You settled with the fact that you may never meet her in person, so it is a small shock to see her standing in front of you.

Putting down your tools, you wipe your hands on your apron and walk over to her. Extending your hand to her, you give her a polite smile as you introduce yourself.

“Hello, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m the new weapons technician and Mr. Stark’s assistant in the lab. How can I help, Ms. Romanoff?” 

A small surprised smile forms on Natasha’s face at your words. Intrigued to learn more about you, she raises her hand to yours in greeting.

“Hi, you can just call me Nata–.” 

“No, no, no!” A voice yells from down the halls outside of the lab.

Tony comes rushing into the lab, breathing heavily. Looking around frantically, his eyes widen at the two of you. He rushes over to you quickly, grabbing you by the shoulders, and pushing you away from Natasha and out into the hallway. 

“I need you to go get the thing from Pepper,” he tells you.

“What thing?” you ask in confusion as you turn back around to him.

He gives you a brief wave before pressing the button on the side, shutting the lab doors in your face.

For a moment, Tony remains standing by the door, tensed as he purposely avoid looking at Natasha. Then, in the next second, his entire body suddenly relaxes, and he moves casually over to his workstation. 

“FRIDAY, what’s the plan for today?” Tony asks.

“The parts for the new repulsors arrived today, sir,” the AI voice replies.

“Great, get those plans pulled up for me, will you?”

Natasha blinks at the lab doors as she tries to process what just happened. She turns to Tony, looking for an explanation.

“What the hell was that Tony?” she exclaims.

Tony looks at her with his eyebrows raised.

“What was what?”

“You just suddenly pushed Y/n out of the room.”

Tony's mouth presses into a tight line as he gives her a confused look. “Never heard of her. Was there somebody here FRIDAY?”

“No, sir.” 

Tony nods back at her with a satisfied look.

Crossing her arms, Natasha was about to argue when the lab doors opened up again. 

Pepper walks into the room towards Tony.

“Y/n said you told her to get a ‘thing’ from me?”

Tony lets out a groan as he hangs his head. Sighing, he gestures to Natasha.

“Y/n met Natasha.” 

Pepper lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Really, Tony? We talked about this. You can’t place all the blame on her.”

Natasha raises her hands to get their attention. “Can somebody please explain to me what’s going on?”

Pepper turns to her, a small apologetic look on her face.

“Tony thinks you are the reason why his assistants keep quitting.”

Natasha frowns at the accusation. “How is that my fault?”

Tony scoffs in disbelief. “FRIDAY, pull up the timeline.” 

A holographic screen pops up between them showing the past year with certain dates highlighted. Tony points to one of the earliest dates in the year. 

“Avery Grayson. She met you on her second day on the job. A week later she asks you out but you decline. She turns in her resignation the following week.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows at the information.

“That doesn’t prove—“ 

Tony interrupts her, “Quinn Turner. She confesses to you a month after your first interaction. Gets turned down too and then quits three days later.”

Tony brings up the two most recent dates.

“Same thing with Riley and Harper. It’s a pattern. They meet you, fall for you, get rejected, and then quit.”

Natasha looks over at Pepper, silently asking if he was serious. In response, Pepper gives her a resigned nod as she rubs her head tiredly.

Tony gets her attention when he points at her accusingly.

“Do you know how hard it is to find competent people who know how to handle this level of equipment?”

Natasha lets out a huff of disbelief, crossing her arms. She remembers his previous assistants. To be honest, most of her interactions with them were completely professional. She didn’t get close to any of them personally or showed any romantic interest, which made each of the confessions surprising to her. 

Still, this doesn’t explain what he was trying to do with you. She raises her eyebrow at him.

“So your plan was to what? Hide your new assistant from me forever?”

“Not forever. Just until I can find someone for her so that she doesn’t fall for you.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at his ridiculousness. Focusing back on her original intention, she places her widow bite gauntlets on the work table.

“Can you just fix these for me? I have a mission in a few hours.”

“Fine, but you stay away from my assistant,” he warns.

Natasha heads toward the exit and waves her hand, dismissing his words. It’s not like she intends to make you fall for her, but she has to admit that she is interested to learn more about you. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You look up from your sketches at the sound of the lab door opening and see the Black Widow stroll into the room. You give her a smile in greeting.

“Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff. Are you looking for Mr. Stark?”

She walks over to your workspace, leaning slightly against the table as she looks at you.

“Actually, I was coming to see you, and you can just call me Natasha. We got interrupted the last time we met.”

Nodding your head, you laugh softly at the memory.

“Pepper explained to me what that was about.” You give her a teasing suspicious look. “So are you here to make me fall for you?”

Natasha gives you an amused smile. Most people don’t usually get comfortable around her so quickly. 

“Only if you want to,” she says nonchalantly.

You chuckle at her response.

“Unfortunately, you won’t be hearing a confession from me soon. I like my job here.” 

Natasha feels a tinge of disappointment at your words, her smile dropping slightly. You don’t notice though since your attention had drifted to the widow bite gauntlets on her wrists.

“Speaking of, did you want me to take a look at that?” You can see that there was some damage from a fight probably during her recent mission.

Glancing down, Natasha shrugs. “I can do it later myself.”

“Well, that explains why I don’t see your stuff across my desk that often.” You raise your hand out to her anyway.

She stares at you curiously before slowly placing her hand in yours.

You let out a small laugh at her action. “This is nice, but I actually want the gauntlets.” You hold her hand gently in yours before turning it around to reach the clasp on the weapon.

Natasha tilts her head as she observes you. You were focused but gentle as you worked, and you didn’t show any signs that you were intimidated by who she was. In fact, you were pretty cute as you scrunch your face in concentration. She decides to tease you a little.

“You know, I don’t usually let people take things off my body until at least the second date.”

You remove the second gauntlet from her other wrist with a start before you see the teasing smirk on her face. You let out a small huff before refocusing your attention on your table.

“I see what Mr. Stark means when he said you were charming.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what else did he tell you about me?”

“That you didn’t like meeting new people, though now I think that may have been a lie.”

Natasha shrugs before leaning in a little closer to you.

“It’s sort of true. I just prefer to meet people that I’m interested in.”

You turn away from her to hide the smile on your face, pretending to look for some tools. 

The lab doors slide open as Tony walks in while reading the tablet in his hand. Looking up, he sighs sadly when he sees Natasha next to you.

“Did she get to you already?”

You give him a reassuring look. “No confessions from me. Natasha just needed some things fixed.”

Tony stares at the two of you doubtfully before pointing to Natasha.

“Don’t you have reports to do or something?”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha stands to leave. She turns to you with a soft smile.

“I’ll come visit more often now that I know you exist.”

You bite your lips to hide your smile as you watch her leave. 

As Natasha exits the lab, she hears Tony’s voice call out.

“FRIDAY, can you restrict her access to the lab?”

“I’m afraid Ms. Potts has already denied that request, sir.”

Natasha smirks at the AI response. She should get something for Pepper later as thanks.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As she said, over the following weeks, Natasha visits you often in the lab. Sometimes with some equipment that needed to be fixed. Other times just to talk. Later, when she finds out that you usually eat your lunch in the lab, she would also join you if she had the time. 

You look up when you hear the doors open, already knowing who to expect. Natasha walks in, waving the take-out bag in her hands.

You groan in relief at the sight of her. “You are a lifesaver.” 

You stand and grab the food from her eagerly before moving it to an area where the two of you can eat.

Natasha sits on the edge of your work table as she watches you set out the food.

“Well, I know how you get absorbed into your work and forget to eat,” she tells you knowingly.

Her eyes glance at the papers on your desk that you were previously working on. Most of them had rough sketches of designs for some of the equipment of the other Avengers. Her name on one paper catches her attention. Picking it up, Natasha examines the details curiously. 

At the sudden silence, you glance up at her. You do a double take when you realize what she was looking at.

Over time, as you worked on her equipment, you’ve noticed that her current suit’s belt doesn’t hold much ammo or gadgets, so you had sketched some ideas that you had for her.

“That’s just some ideas of some upgrades that I had. It’s not really anything worth looking at.” 

Natasha shakes her head in disagreement before handing the paper back to you.

“I like it. I’m sure Tony will get you the parts that you would need if you want to work on it.”

“Really?” you ask her, astonished.

She nods at you reassuringly before pushing you back towards the food.

“We can discuss it later, but first, let’s eat.”

A few weeks later, you completed your first prototype, and you were excited to show Natasha and test it out.

Natasha admires the new belt on the table. It was still slim and compact, but she can see where you had added extra slots for her weapons. You also included her signature red symbol on the buckle.

You were practically buzzing with excitement.

“I just need to see if there needs to be any more adjustments with the sizing.”

Without thinking, you grab her hand to pull her closer to you. You move quickly as you remove her current belt. Taking the new belt, your hands wrap around her waist as you grab one end before bringing it to her front and snapping it into place. You fidget with the belt, checking for any snags or looseness, totally absorbed in your work. 

Natasha’s initial surprised expression melts into an amused and fond look on her face as she watches you. You were adorable when you concentrated on your work, and honestly, she’s not sure how much longer she can hold in her feelings for you.

After performing your final checks and detailing little changes that needed to be adjusted, you suddenly froze when you realized Natasha hadn’t said a word since you started. 

Your eyes widened, mortified when you see your current position. Your body had moved closer to Natasha’s when you were making adjustments. One of your hands was still placed atop the belt while the other was resting against her stomach, and you could feel her toned body underneath your hand. You swallow nervously as you look up at her.

She tilts her head at you as you continue to stare at her.

“Everything okay?”

The closeness between your bodies was making it hard for you to think. Eventually, you were able to get your brain to function enough to respond.

“Yeah…all good.” You unconsciously lick your lips out of embarrassment.

You see Natasha's eyes flick down to your mouth at the action, and you feel your face heat up even more. You should definitely step away from her now. As you go to move, Natasha’s next words causes you to stop in surprise.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

Your eyes widen at her question, and you see a hopeful expression on her face as she waits for your response. Instinctively, you want to say ‘yes’ and close the distance between you two, but you stop yourself, hesistating. 

Natasha sees the conflicting feelings on your face, so she decides to ease the pressure a little with some teasing. 

“You know, according to Tony’s theory, since I’m the one who confessed, a rejection would mean that I would need to quit my job.”

You can't help but laugh at her reasoning before giving her a playful smile, teasing back. 

“Well, we can’t have the Black Widow quitting over a failed confession.”

Natasha places her hands on your waist, pulling you in closer. She tilts her head at you in question.

“I haven’t failed yet. Technically, you never gave me an answer.”

You move your arms to wrap around the back of her neck as you pretend to think about your decision.

“So I still get to keep my job?”

Natasha nods reassuringly. “For however long you can stand working with Tony’s ego.”

You give her a fond smile.

“Then yes, I would love to go out with you.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Tony was throwing you a party to celebrate your first anniversary since working with the Avengers and him, even though you insisted that it wasn’t necessary. He disagrees, saying how nobody has lasted this long, so you relented.

Naturally, you went with Natasha as your date since you have been dating her for several months already. The only problem is that you forgot to update Tony about your new relationship.

When the two of you enter the party, Natasha leans down and whispers next to your ear, “I’ll go get us something to drink.”

With a light touch against your back, she walks away toward the bar. 

You are lost in your thoughts as you admire her walk away, so you are startled when Tony slides in front of you, excitement in his eyes.

“Y/n! Good, I found you.”

You smile at him, used to his frantic energy by now.

“Hello, Mr. Stark, was there something that you needed?”

He waves his hand dismissively at you.

“This party is for you, and you’ve been working with me for a year now. I’ve told you to just call me Tony.” 

You give him an apologetic look before asking him curiously.

“You said you were looking for me?”

Tony claps his hands at the reminder.

“Yes, I want you to meet someone. She’s a nice person, has a great personality, and she works as a pilot.”

You raise your hand to try and stop him. “I already have some—“

“Oh, here she is!”

You give him a tight smile as the woman approaches the two of you. Tony pats you on the back in encouragement, turning to leave.

“Alright, I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

“Wait, Tony—,“ you try to stop him, but he rushes away. Turning back to the woman, you give her a polite smile as she introduces herself.

Meanwhile, Natasha was standing at the bar, waiting for your drinks.

“I am the greatest boss ever,” Tony exclaims, sliding in next to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his words. Deciding to indulge him while she waits, she asks him to explain.

“How’s that?”

“I just found the perfect date for our favorite weapons techie.”

Natasha frowns when she realizes what he said. Turning around to look at where she left you, she sees that you were currently talking with a beautiful woman. 

Her posture relaxes when she reads your body language. You had a polite smile on your face as you listened to the woman, but she could see how tense your body was, and your hand at your side kept fidgeting with your dress. 

“Now I don’t have to worry about her falling for you,” Tony says smugly.

“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Natasha smirks as she turns back around to grab the drinks that the bartender just placed in front of her. 

Tony notices the two drinks in her hands and raises his eyebrows at her.

“You have a date?”

“Girlfriend.”

Without explaining further, she heads back toward you. By the time Natasha reaches you, the other woman was already turning to leave, nodding at Natasha in acknowledgment. 

You let out a breath of relief as Natasha comes back to your side. Thankfully, the woman was understanding when you explained the situation to her. 

Natasha hands you your drink as she returns her hand around your waist, pulling you against her. She sighs in disappointment as she watches the woman leave.

“Here I thought I had the chance to be a hero and save you.”

You give her a teasing smile. “Maybe next time.” 

Natasha presses a soft kiss to your lips in response before pulling away.

You tilt your head curiously at her. “What was that for?”

Natasha gives you an affectionate look.

“First, because I love you.” 

Her expression shifts into a smirk.

“Second, is Tony freaking out?”

You look over her shoulders at the bar and see Tony gaping at the two of you, pointing accusingly at Natasha while Pepper holds him back from rushing over.

You turn back to her, giving her an amused look.

“He’s going to lock you out again.”

Natasha just shrugs, unbothered. “He can’t keep me away from you.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively at you. “He also can’t stop you from visiting me in my room during your breaks.”

You push her lightly before bringing her face close for a kiss.

When you accepted this job, you never thought you would end up in a relationship with the Black Widow. Then again you never imagine that she would end up falling for you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

[heytheredelulu]

I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

[promenadewithme]

Twelve days of Christmas - Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem! reader Word Count: 1.8K words Warnings: sexual innuendo, mentions of sex, slight angst, established marriage, divorce, the holidays, idk what triggers you so tell me if I should add anything else. a.n.: sorry for taking a few days to upload this, i've been christmas shopping and got down with some kind of flu that has me feeling unwell. I promise I'll post more if you guys like this, though.

part 1 part 2 part 3

“He’s getting away, Barnes” Stark reprimanded through the com in James’ ear “Forget to eat breakfast today? Where is that abiding need to keep the streets of New York safe? That unwavering stamina? Don’t tell me you’re getting old.”

The pokes had him grinding his teeth and stomping harder down the stairs. He forced himself to calmly answer “Your mother had no complaints last night.”

A distant cackle came through the com, which he imagined could have only been Thor, before Stark quipped “Then where the hell is your head at, Barnes?”

At my daughter’s recital that started 40 minutes ago all the way across town, thanks for asking. James thought with a moody frown on his face as he started jumping down the flights of stairs.

“Why don’t you do the chasing for a change?” he sassed, catching a glimpse of the assailant’s clothes just as he turned a corner.

Having been in the military as a young adult, one would expect more respect for the boss. But James was cranky, would rather be with his family, and was not in the mood for Stark’s cockiness. Besides, he was the best private detective in the agency and Stark knew it.

James picked up his pace, mere meters away from the target, only for the emergency exit door to slam open into the criminals’ face, with none other than Tony Stark on the other side.

“I don’t do the running.” He answered, smugness written all over his face “That’s what I pay you for.”

With a roll of his eyes and a huff, James bent down to search the man’s pockets. Two guns, four knives and what sure looked a lot like chloroform, were handed over to Bruce – the forensics guy, who accepted them with a tight-lipped awkward smile.

The man on the floor, a stalker that had been chasing one of their clients for the past months, attempted to get up. ‘Attempted’ being the key word considering James handcuffed him in seconds, getting halfway to the vehicle before his boss could reach him.

“Nice work today, kid.” He praised as James closed the door to the police car that waited outside.

Stark had friends in very important places, friends who appreciated the help that his company provided. Both monetary and otherwise. The police force was one of them, despite their motto being ‘doing all the men in blue could not do’.

“Thanks, man.” He replied while nodding at Steve, the police officer they usually worked with and his childhood friend.

“You can go home now; I’ve got it from here.” Stark patted his back as Steve drove away.

“I still have to write up the report and tell our client we caught the guy.”

In all honesty, James didn’t know why he didn’t accept. He wanted to go home, to go to his wife and baby girl. He also knew that he had a job to do, a job that wouldn’t finish itself.

“I’ll do that.” He reassured, earning an eyebrow raise from James, who was sure he had never touched paperwork in his life. With a huff and an eyeroll, he admitted “Fine, I’ll get Pepper to do it.”

“Pepper already has enough on her plate having to babysit you.” James replied, walking to his car.

Tony followed close behind “How about you let me worry about Pepper and you go home to your wife. Unless you want to do it the other way around, I’d be fine with that too. Tell me, how has beautiful (y/n) been - ”

He was cut off by a low growl emitted from James’ throat. His wife was beautiful, it was a fact, one he did not mind people noticing. Except when it came to Tony, the biggest playboy known to man.

“Down boy.” Stark lifted his hands in surrender “You should really let go of all that pent up energy. You know, there’s this reiki place down the street from - ”

“I don’t need to unwind.” He lied through his teeth.

James desperately needed to let it all out, preferably in his wife. The problem was that most days he got home after you were fast asleep and left before you awoke. It was hell, it was torture. It meant jacking off in the shower to the thought of you while being careful to not make too much noise, even though it was never really enough, not the same as you. It meant having way too much sexual energy and lashing out on everyone.

“Whatever you say, Barnes.” He sighed in defeat “But I do think you should take the rest of the year off. You’ve been my top employee of the year, it’s almost Christmas, just… Have a little fun for once. Take your wife on a date, take your kid ice skating, hell go crazy and rent a cabin in the woods. As much as this James is good for business, I miss the old Bucky. Corny and in love as he might have been, he was also a pretty decent guy. Besides, the clients are starting to get scared of that scowl of yours.”

Maybe it was time for a break; to spend some time with his girls, God knows he missed them.

“I’ll think about it.” He nodded, unlocking his car.

And that he did. James thought about it on the slow drive to Olivia’s school, he thought about it when he saw that all the chairs were already stacked, he thought about it on his way home, and when he saw your disappointed face as he walked through the door.

You looked so beautiful, all dolled up and Christmassy. You also looked broken, tired. Bucky had a sneaking suspicion it was because of him.

Closing the door behind him, he measured his next words, but nothing came out. No excuses, no explanations. He knew he was running; he just didn’t know why.

“You missed her recital.” Your voice came out hoarse and he realized your eyes were puffy. The realization that he had made you cry made James’ heart sink to his stomach.

“I know.” He whispered, feet plastered to the floor, unable to move from the door. Like he was ready to bolt at any moment.

“You are never home.”

“I know.”

“You come home after midnight every single day.”

“I know.”

“She misses you, I-” you halted before admitting “I miss you.”

That was when he found it in himself to move, to kneel before you and kiss both your hands while apologizing.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Left his lips with every kiss he planted all over your hands, before resting his face on your thighs.

Tears filled your eyes again and it took all your strength not to back down, but you said it.

“James, I want a divorce.”

His heart stopped, and it sped, and it broke into a million pieces. You watched as his head slowly rose, his distressed gaze meeting yours.

“What?” he couldn’t have heard you right, could he? There was no way he could have messed up this badly.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You said, voice breaking “I can’t wake up every day knowing you won’t be here, I can’t listen to you coming home in the middle of the night and leaving before I can say goodbye, I don’t know what to do for you to love me. I’ve tried everything and I never seem to be enough for you.”

“No, doll, please.” He looked deep into your soul, holding both of your hands, afraid that if he let go, he would lose you forever, knowing there was a chance he already had “I love you. I love you so much. Please, we can work this out. Don’t leave me.”

“Leave you?” you seethed, untangling your hands from his and standing “No, James, I’m not the one who is leaving. You are the one who left. You are the one who runs away from his family, who overworks, who jerks himself off in the middle of the night instead of having sex with his own wife, who doesn’t even care to show up. If you truly loved me, if you loved us, you would be here. You would have been there today, when Liv needed you present.”

“I know I messed up but let me make it up to you. I can be present, I can come home earlier, I want to have sex with you.” He was on his knees; he did not know what he could say to make you believe him.

“James, it’s been eight months since I had an orgasm.” You said, walking into the kitchen to make yourself some tea. Anything to ease your nerves “I want a divorce.”

He followed you like a lost puppy; it would have been cute if your heart wasn’t weeping. James racked his brain, thinking of anything that could make you stay, that could help you change your mind. You were stubborn, the only person who could ever make you soft was Livvie. It was like a lightbulb went on in his brain. Liv. She was the key, the bond.

“Okay.” He said, even though it was the last thing he meant.

“What?”

It was what you wanted, right? So why did it feel like someone stepped on the already shattered pieces of your heart? Maybe, deep down, you wished he would fight for you.

“We can get a divorce.” He nodded slowly “But I want to give Olivia one last happy Christmas. Think about what it would do to her little mind if we separated during the holidays. It’s what, ten days till Christmas now?”

“Twelve as of tomorrow.” You answer, seeing his point.

“Stark gave me the rest of the year off. Let’s make the happiest memories with her, ones she will remember and not be traumatized by, let her have one last Christmas. Let us have one last Christmas.”

 You considered his words. Liv was six now, she was definitely old enough to remember this divorce and James was right, it could potentially make the holidays traumatic in some way. That was the last thing you wanted. It was only twelve days, right? What’s the worst that could happen?

“Alright.” You conceded and James let out the air he was holding in “Twelve days.”

“We pretend nothing happened, we act happy and in love, we make this the perfect Christmas. Deal?” he outstretched his hand, afraid that any other form of contact would make you push him away.

“Deal.” You took his hand, letting it linger as you looked into his somber grey eyes. Oh, how you would miss those, how you missed them already.

What to Liv would be the perfect Christmas, to you was the hardest goodbye. Would you be able to spend 12 days without changing your mind? Would James be able to spend them without letting you down again? Remember all the times he wasn’t there. A small voice uttered in your mind. It was enough for you to remove your hand from his and say goodnight. Twelve days would go by in a flash, you could do this. For Liv.

taglist: @ordelixx, @julvrs, @milanaasblog, @buckystevelove, @galactict3a , @ilovetaquitosmmmm , @tpwkcaryslizb , @unadulteratedpastazonkpeach

If you enjoy my work and are able to contribute, please leave me a tip here 🫶

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: ask: Maybe Pietro and reader are the only ones in the avengers facility (the other were with their families, on vacation, etc), and he's really excited to spend Christmas with her because he has a crush on her but never really told her (or even done something about it because when he's around her he doesn't know what to do), and he's really excited because it's gonna be just the two of them there and he wants it to be special and surprise her.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: AU where Pietro isn't dead, this is only a few months after Avengers: Age Of Ultron but in my head Pietro, Wanda, and reader are early 20s!

~ i hope you like this @thewinterv 🤍~

Normally, around the 20th of December, the Avengers Tower would be buzzing with the sounds of voices, the hum of machinery, and Tony's unrelenting playlist of 80s Christmas hits. But this year, it was dead silent.

Most of the team had scattered for the holidays; each of them returning home to their families. Tony was spending Christmas away with Pepper at some romantic destination no one knew about, Thor had returned home to Asgard, and Cap was spending his holidays with his friend, Bucky. Natasha, like almost every year, was spending Christmas at Clint's family house and this year Clint had opened the invitation—

Because Pietro disliked spending holidays away from his sister, and Wanda had told him her and Vision were spending he holidays with Clint, he'd been considering the offer.

However, when you'd told him in passing that you'd politely declined the invitation, Pietro's heart sank. You didn't want to impose, was your excuse, and it didn't sit well with him.

He didn't want you alone on Christmas.    

So, he found himself lingering in the common area of the tower, his foot tapping anxiously against the wooden floor. He felt the anticipation bubbling up inside him as he shakes his hands, a mixture of excitement and nervous energy bouncing inside him. He glanced at the clock hanging over the door for the tenth time in the past twenty minutes.

You were here, probably in your room. The thought alone made his heart speed up. The two of you were the only ones left now and all that was left was his excitement. For months now, Pietro had been harboring these feelings for you—feelings he never quite knew how to express. Around you, his usually confident self, became a jumble of awkward smiles and half-finished sentences.

But this Christmas, he was determined for that to change.

You wander into the kitchen, yawning. It's Christmas morning and Pietro is standing by the stove, stirring a pot with uncharacteristic focus. His usual blur of motion is replaced by small, deliberate movements, and you can't help but smile.

"Merry Christmas," you say, leaning your hip against the counter. 

Pietro's head shoots up, his icy blue eyes widen in surprise as he spins around. "Y/n," he exclaims, his Sokovian accent more evident in the early morning. "Happy Christmas," he smiles and continues to stir, "Ah, I made horká čokoláda, ah what is the word… hot chocolate? It's… traditional, yes?"

You smile, pushing some hair away from your tired eyes. "Very traditional, Piet," you say, leaning over some more and smelling the air. It smells sweet. "Smells yummy. Can I get some, or is this all for you?" you ask with no hint of annoyance in case he had made it for himself.

His cheeks turn pink, quickly ladling the hot chocolate into two mugs. "Of course, for you too. I made it special."

"Special?" you echo, taking the offered mug. You taste the hot chocolate and it tastes quite normal, but still delicious. 

"Yes," Pietro whispers, finding his words again. He feels nervous again but he swallows down the nerves. "For you. I made it special for you." 

Your smile widens and you take another sip, hot chocolate coating your upper lip. Pietro leans in and wipes it with his thumb. He's pauses, hesitating, but when you don't pull away he relaxes. "Thank you," you say honestly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in your stomach. Pietro just grins, feeling his nerves disappear. 

Later that day, Pietro leads you to the training hangar, though he continuously refuses to explain why. Once you arrive, however, your jaw drops. The massive space has been transformed. Twinkling string lights crisscross the rafters, and a makeshift skating rink gleams at the center, its surface a mirror of ice. Soft holiday music plays from a speaker in the corner.

"Pietro," you breath, turning to him. "Did you do all this?'

He looks a little sheepishly. "Friday helped and I had some time. Plus, speed also helps," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you like it?"

"Like it? Piet, it’s amazing," you exclaim, stepping onto the edge of the rink, feeling the ice. It's cool and smooth beneath your fingers. "But I don't have any skates."

"Pshh, already handled." Pietro speeds away and returns in a blur of blue lightening that dances around you. he steadies himself and holds two pairs of skates in his arms. He holds one out for you in your size. "For you, Princezna (Princess)."

You laugh lowly, seeing how his hair sticks up a little. "Do you ever slow down?"

Pietro thinks for a moment, rubbing his nape. "Only for you," he says softly, the words escaping before he could really stop them. Your cheeks warm, but you don't look away. Instead, you smile and walk to a bench in the corner, lacing up your skates. Pietro does the same, basking in the comfortable silence.

One on the ice, you struggle while he moves with surprising grace. He skates circles around you, teasingly close but careful not to knock you off balance.

"Show-off," you say, flapping your arms desperately. Pietro skates up to you and holds out his arms, not touching you but keeping an eye on you in case you fall.

"I have to impress you somehow," he quips, but his tone sounds lighter than usual, less guarded, and you like the change. He's acting like how he does with everyone else, not as stiff as he is when he's around you usually, and you like it.

The two of you continue to skate for what feels like hours, laughing and sharing stories. At one point, you almost slip, and Pietro reaches out and catches you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Are you ok?" He asks, his breath warm on your cheek. You nod and for a moment, you both don't move.

"You're really good at this," you whisper, trying to steady your heartbeat as your nose almost touches his. You pull away a little.

"I had a good reason to learn," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "Wanda and I used to skate a lot at home, with Mama and Papa."

"Must have been nice."

"It was," he reminisces, smiling at you and then he pulls away.

After you're both finished and your feet start to hurt, the two of you return to the lounge, where the electric fireplace is crackling softly. Pietro had prepared another surprise: a small, slightly lopsided Christmas tree, decorated with whatever he could find around the facility. Paperclips served as makeshift hooks, holding up ornaments fashioned from lab equipment and some minimal leftover holiday decorations Tony had lying around.

"Oh," you say, wrapping your arms around yourself as you smile. "You really went all out, hm?" you tease, sitting beside him on the couch.

"I didn't want you to spend Christmas alone," he says simply, as if it's nothing. When you look at him, he hesitates, then adds, "You deserve it all."

"Pietro," you whisper, placing your hand on his arm. You don't even know what to say.

He takes a deep breath, his usual bravado faltering as it always does when you're around but he swallow it down. “I like you. A lot," he admits, the words stuck in his throat as he confesses;

"But when I'm around you, I never know how to act. I'm nervous. Very nervous. Which is ridiculous, because I'm never nerves around girls. But with you, I want to be careful. Because you're important to me. I want to impress you. I want you to like me."

You stare at him, your heart pounding. "Pietro, I like you too. I've always liked you, I've just been waiting for you to say something."

"You have?"

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, you aren't the only one who is nervous, you know? You're quite intimidating."

Pietro laughs, taking your hand in his. "Me? Nesmysl (Nonsense)," he chuckles and strokes his thumb over yours. He smiles, his blue eyes locked onto yours. He leans in, his lips suddenly brushing against yours as he closes his eyes.

The kiss is hesitant at first, then it becomes more certain when you kiss him back, your hand finding themselves in his hair. The world seems to stand still, a rare moment of stillness that Pietro actually enjoys.

For once, he wishes he could stop time forever.

When you finally pulls away, Pietro is grinning like a love-sick school boy, his cheeks flushed pink. "Best Christmas ever?" he asks, his tone teasing but very honestly hopeful.

You return his grin and squeeze his hand, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Best Christmas ever."

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Devil And An Angel

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: During one of Tony's parties, both of your girlfriends tease you and try to tempt you into giving into your sinful desires.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Threesome, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral sex, Double Penetration, Dirty talk, Praise, Squirting, Dom Natasha/Switch Wanda/Switch Reader, Brief Aftercare.

General Masterlist

“Are you really not going to tell me?” you complain, looking between both your girlfriends with a small pout.

“You’ll find out soon enough Kotenok,” Natasha coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at the action before remembering how you were supposed to be acting grumpy.

“But why can’t I know now?” they laugh at how eager you are to find out what they are going to wear. Tony had decided to throw a party tonight, every couple/relationship must dress up as something together to change it up a bit and have some fun. The problem was, your two girlfriends were reluctant to tell you what they were dressing up as and assured you that anything you wore would be fine.

“Because it’s a surprise,” Wanda says while wrapping her arms around your middle and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now go and get ready and we’ll meet you at the party.” Grumbling, you left to go and get ready, imagining what they could have installed for you.

When you arrived at the party you had to give Tony his dues, the party looked amazing and it was a brilliant idea to have people dress up. You looked around trying to figure out what people were meant to be, smiling at how much effort everyone had put in. Steve and Bucky had dressed up as people from the 1940s, their old fashioned clothing probably from their youth. Peter and MJ were dressed as mad scientists, Peter fluffing his hair up to look crazy and constantly checking to see if it was alright, much to MJ’s amusement. Clint looked so done with the whole party despite it just starting, dressed up in a Santa costume that was from when he pretended to be the jolly man at Christmas for his children. Laura wore an elf hat and a simple dress that suited her, but she was too busy trying not to laugh at her husband. Tony and Pepper just looked incredible, their theme most likely meant to scream money and wealth.

Suddenly, you felt two people lean on your shoulders, their different perfumes invading your senses as you turned to look at them. On your left was Natasha who was dressed in a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, devil horns sticking out of her fiery red hair, black, smokey eyeshadow making her eyes pop and a sinister smirk on her face. Wanda was on your right, dressed in a white, flowy dress with a gold halo in her hair, a soft look on her face compared to Natasha. You chuckled at them, dressed as a Devil and an Angel on each of your shoulders.

“You both look beautiful,” the compliment causes them both to smile at you, the two of them having a turn to compliment your choice of clothing as well. You leaned in to give Wanda a kiss, innocent and sweet, and then turned to Natasha who had no shame in sliding her tongue into your mouth, a small moan escaping you at the action.

“Don’t be tempted by her,” Wanda whispered in your ear, her voice soft while her arm interlocked with yours. “Or there will be no reward later.” You stifled the noise that wanted to come out and just watched as Natasha winked at you before walking off.

Wanda and yourself followed behind and you had to try your hardest to not drift your gaze lower on Natasha’s back. The three of you ended up on a sofa talking with Steve and Bucky, them rambling on about a story from their past while you three nodded along. You were paying attention until Natasha moved closer, her mouth on your ear as her breath tickled the side of your face.

“Do you know how hard I want to fuck you right now?” she purred quietly, “Have you trembling with pleasure as I thrust my fingers deep inside you? Or even better, my cock.” You groan at her words, low enough that no one other than Natasha could hear, making her smirk in victory as she works you up. Her hand grips your thigh, squeezing the skin and moving up higher teasingly before drifting down to rest on your knee. “I could have you coming in my mouth right now in that bathroom,” her gaze travels to the ladies room on the other side of the room, your eyes following as they darken with lust. “Come on, let's have some fun,” she bites down on your ear while no one looks before pulling away and giving you a predatory look that sends another wave of arousal through you, your panties definitely soaked as you clench your thighs together.

After a few moments, Natasha excuses herself to the toilets, her eyes staying trained on you as she gets up and starts to walk away. You remember Wanda’s earlier words and reluctantly stay still in your seat. You know this is a test, Natasha staying true to her outfit and trying to get you to sin with her, give into her temptation and end up with a punishment equivalent to hell. That however doesn’t make it any easier as you suffer with the results of her dirty words and teasing.

You don’t realise that Steve and Bucky had left, leaving you alone with Wanda as Natasha waits out in the bathroom to see if you crack. Her touches are far more innocent that Natasha’s, her hands interlocking with yours, her thumb running over the back of your hand.

“You’re being such a good girl,” she whispers, the praise making you whine slightly. “I bet you’re so wet for us both right now,” your eyes widen at her words, not expecting her to be in on the teasing.

“I thought angels were supposed to be innocent and pure,” you say, hoping she’d stop the torment. She just lets out a low chuckle and smiles at you, making you nervous for what else was to come.

“The devil was an angel once,” she comments, her voice raspy and sultry, “Who says we can’t be tempted as well.” Her hand goes to your thigh, scratching through your clothing and even going as far as your inner thigh near your core to draw invisible patterns. Your breathing hitches and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything.

Soon Natasha returns, having given up waiting for you, and takes her seat to your left again. She notices the prominent blush on your cheeks and how your hand is gripping the cushion of the sofa, knuckles almost turning white.

“So Y/n,” Natasha starts, drawing your attention away from Wanda’s hand on your leg, “Are you enjoying the party?” you go to answer her question but your breathing stops when your thoughts change.

You’re tied to the bed while Natasha roughly kisses your lips, pulling out moan after moan as her tongue explores the roof of your mouth. Her hands grope at your chest, pinching and pulling at your nipples causing sighs to leave your lips. Wanda was in between your thighs, looking up at you with an innocent look, and licked a stripe up your core, her tongue gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” the spy moves closer to you, her chest pressed up against your shoulder as she talks into your ear. “I’ll ask you one more time,” You look over to Wanda who has a sly grin on her face before Natasha grabs your attention again by sucking on your neck, “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” is all you could manage out in a breathless whisper, mind clouded with arousal and desire as both women relentlessly tease you.

“Are you sure?” Wanda whispers in your other ear, the hand that was teasing your inner thighs moving to drag her fingers over your clothed pussy under your dress, the fabric soaked with your arousal. “Because I'm sure there are more exciting things we could be doing,” you stifle a moan when she starts to circle your clit through your panties and move your hand to sit on top of hers.

“I just want to be good,” your whine has them both grinning, “I’ll do anything you want me to, just please let me be good for you.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Natasha drags you away towards the elevator to get to your shared apartment, Wanda quickly on your tail.

Once you reach the bedroom, Natasha immediately straddles you on the bed, her mouth descending onto yours as she roughly kisses you and slips her tongue into your mouth. The whole thing is hot, her hands tugging your hair to pull moans out of you, her tongue tracing the roof of your mouth while her hips grind down harshly onto yours as she uses you for her own pleasure for the moment. Instinctively, your hands go to her waist, guiding her movements as she ruts against you.

“Fuck,” she rasps out as you both pull away breathless, Wanda unzipping the spy’s dress as she climbs off your lap and passionately kisses the witch. You watch in awe as their tongues fight for dominance, hands roaming freely across each other's body as they undress each other. You can’t move, frozen on the spot as bare skin is exposed to you, Natasha’s red dress dropping to the floor while Wanda’s is pulled over her head and discarded carelessly somewhere. They wear lingerie matching their outfits, Natasha wearing a black and red lace set while Wanda has a gold and white one on.

“Enjoying the show?” Wanda teases, swaying her hips as they both crawl onto the bed to join you. Her lips crash to yours, nothing innocent about her now as her hands rid you of your clothes. Natasha is now behind you, her chest pressing into your back while she bites at your neck, littering you with purple and red marks and sighing wantonly against your ear to make you shudder. Wanda’s hands cup your breasts unceremoniously as you revel in the pleasure, her running her fingers over your hardened nipples and tugging playfully. You lean your head back onto Natasha who moves to nibble on your ear, her hand coming up to rest on your throat, a pitiful moan escaping you.

“Don’t worry Kotenok,” She purrs, “You’ll get what you want soon.” You can feel her smirking into your skin as your hips buck at the contact of her knee slotting between your legs. “But first Wanda has a question, Don’t you Wands?” Her green eyes snap over to the witch who pulls back from the sloppy kiss with you, her cheeks flushed and eyes darkening.

“How do you feel about you and Nat fucking me at the same time?” she whispers against your lips and your eyes widen at the question.

“Fuck that would be hot,” you sigh out, imagining Wanda in between you and the spy as you pound into her from both sides. “Are you sure you want that?” She bites her lip at you sultrily and nods her head before moving forwards to press her lips back to yours.

“On your back baby,” she husks out between kisses and you move away from them both to lay on your back near the top of the bed. Wanda kisses down your body, licking over the marks Natasha made soothingly before ghosting her hot breath over your nipples and then kissing your inner thighs that were slick with your desire for them. “I’m going to give you your reward for being so good for us,” Her breath fans over your core, your hips bucking at the feeling which causes her to place a strong hand on your hip to keep you still. She licks through your folds, her tongue swirling around your clit while her free hand moves to be near your entrance. Her fingers gather your wetness before she thrusts two fingers straight into you, your back arching off the bed as you let out a guttural moan. Her mouth sucks at your clit while she pumps her fingers into you, your hands fisting in her hair as she eats you out

Moans pour out of your mouth when she curls her fingers and you almost scream when you feel her moan into you loudly. Your eyes wander away from the brunette between your thighs and to the redhead behind her. You hear a click of a bottle and assume she’s used some lube to ease one of her fingers into Wanda’s tight hole and let her get used to the feeling and stretch. Wanda’s face moves to kiss at your thigh for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling of something in her ass before continuing to reward you. You softly stroke her hair and let her take her time and watch as Natasha moves to have Wanda sit on her face, her finger slowly stretching her tight hole out.

The room then fills with your moans and Wanda’s muffled ones as Natasha brings her close to coming and manages to work her up to having three fingers pumping in and out of her ass. Your legs tighten around Wanda’s face as you come with a scream, body spasming with pleasure as you ride out your high grinding against the witches mouth. She follows soon after, clenching around Natasha’s fingers and tongue as she screams into you, biting down on your inner thigh to muffle the scream. The feeling was painful but also pleasurable and you’re certain you're going to have a dark mark there later on.

Natasha moves from under her, not wanting to overstimulate her, and carefully pulls her fingers out. You pull Wanda up your body, peppering kisses over her face as she tries to steady her breathing.

“You did so well for us,” you praise, still breathless from your own mind blowing orgasm as you talk to her. She hums in response and slowly kisses you, the taste of yourself on her tongue making you moan into her mouth. “Are you still up for us both?” you whisper against her lips, your hands stroking her back as she presses her body weight onto you.

“Yeah,” she murmurs back and you see Natasha move to get the strap ons before lubing them both up so it doesn't hurt her.

“Remember your safewords?” Natasha asks while Wanda gets off you so you can put the harness on.

“Green for ok, Yellow for slow down and Red for Stop,” Natasha smiles at Wanda softly then pecks her lips and helps guide her to hover above your plastic cock. Your hands move the tip of the toy to rub against her clit teasing before letting her sink down onto it. She moans lewdly as her hips meet yours and slowly starts to rock back and forth. She braces her arms next to your head and moans into a kiss as you thrust up into her gently, her hips starting a rhythm with yours.

Natasha soon has her harness on and moves to kneel behind Wanda while her hands slow her movements down. You whisper comforting words to the brunette, checking if she’s still ok by asking her for a colour, as Natasha slowly pushes the head of the toy into her ass, a loud gasp leaving the witch as she screws her eyes shut. You’re both patient as you let Wanda adjust to the toy, Natasha soon having the whole toy inside her and letting the pain fade to pleasure.

Experimentally, Wanda moves forwards slightly then pushes back, a low groan escaping her as she enjoys the feeling of Natasha and yourself deep inside her. Natasha starts a gentle pace of thrusting in and out of her while you swallow her moans with your mouth and thrust your hips up into her. Soon Wanda starts to move in time with you both, as soon as you pull out, Natasha pushes in and vice versa and her moans become louder.

“Fuck,” she moves to lean backwards against Natasha, who wraps a firm hand around her middle to keep her upright, while your hand moves to circle her clit. “Harder,” She sighs out, the two of you listening and increasing the force at which you pump your hips into her. “Faster,” the sound of skin slapping echoes around the room as you pound into her from underneath and Natasha snaps her hips against her. Wanda’s breasts bounce with each thrust and her legs start to shake as she nears her orgasm. “Please, I’m so close, don't stop,” begs tumble out her mouth as her hips move frantically between the two of you.

With a loud scream, liquid gushes out of her around your cock as she comes, her hips stuttering as her hands grip behind her onto Natasha to stop her body from collapsing forwards. You both slow down your thrusts as she rides out her high, her legs spasming around you while her hands fall off the spy to rest on your chest while she pants for breath. Natasha kisses along her neck and back while she calms down and when you see her wince at the feeling of being so full, you motion for Natasha to slowly pull out. She whines at the motion and soon moves off your lap to lay on the bed next to you.

You quickly discard the harness while Natasha moves to the bathroom to start a bath for you three and pull the witch close to you to murmur praise to her. Her body naturally moves towards you, her face tucked into your neck as she tries to fall asleep, her body exhausted from coming so hard. When Natasha returns, you carry her to the bath and gently lower her in and climb in behind her so she can lean back into your embrace. Natasha also climbs in, helping clean Wanda off and start her aftercare before quickly washing herself from any sweat.

“Are you ready for bed milaya?” Natasha murmurs into the witch’s hair after placing a soft kiss. She nodded back sleepily and the spy helped her dry off before taking her to bed. You quickly drain the tub and dry off yourself before joining them in bed. Wanda curls her body into Natasha but when she feels your presence next to her, she moves her hand back in search of yours and she places it around her middle. You smile at her drowsy actions and kiss them both goodnight before drifting off to sleep.

[angelbaby-fics]

Thanksgiving (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Stucky X Reader (mostly Steve in this part!)

Word Count: 500

A/N: Surprise! I am so so thankful for all of you guys for sticking around the past nearly 3 years! And if you're new around here, I'm thankful for you too!! So I just wanted to show my thanks with a little 2 parter, and also maybe if you had a rough day this could provide some comfort as well 💕

“No no NO! Not goin’!” You cried, running to your room and slamming the door behind you. The sleeves of your festive sweater were damp with tears as you threw yourself to the floor, burying your face in your arms. You don’t know how long you stayed there, or how long you were crying; all you knew was that you weren’t going to get up, no matter how much your daddies bribed you. There was nothing on this earth that could convince you to go to the Thanksgiving party. 

When a soft knock came upon your bedroom door, you ignored it. Maybe they’d forget you were there and go to the party without you, getting you off the hook for the evening. Fat chance, you were the apple of both your daddies’ eyes and at the front of their minds every minute of the day. 

“I’m gonna come in, okay?” You heard Steve say, but you still didn’t answer. “Baby? I wanna hear you say okay.” 

As much as you wanted to stay stubborn, you appreciated the way your caregivers respected your boundaries, not wanting to enter your space without your consent. You gave a weak moan in response, and Steve opened the door just enough to shimmy inside before closing it behind him. You thought you’d lost the fight, any second now you’d feel his arms around your middle, lifting you into his inescapable grasp, but instead as you listened for his footsteps approaching you, you heard them stop by your side. Suddenly, Steve was on the ground with you, stomach to the floor, head cradled in his arms, facing you with a commiserating smile. 

“Can I tell you a secret angel?” He asked when he noticed you looking at him. “I don’t wanna go either.”

“You don’t?” You asked. “Nope!” “But you love Uncle Tony’s parties!” Usually Bucky was the one in your corner when you wanted out of a social occasion, while Steve was more the type to show up early to help set up. “I do. But you know what I love more? You and Bucky. I wish we could just have Thanksgiving dinner at home, just us family.” “Me too.”

“But I promised Tony we’d come say hi. You remember how much it hurts your feelings when someone breaks a promise, right?”

You thought to yourself, about times when Peter swore you’d get the next turn on the swings or when Loki promised to let you win at tag. “Yeah… feels sad.” You nodded.

“Especially on a holiday too, huh? Tony and Pepper did a lot to prepare for tonight, it wouldn’t be very nice of us if we didn’t at least say hello.”

“Yeah,” you thought, “I wanna say hello.”

Steve got up from the ground, dusting off his pants before reaching down to pick you up. He propped you up in one arm, wiping your tears with his free hand. He smoothed your hair, looking into your eyes with a smile. 

“Alright babydoll, let's do this.”

[imtryingbuck]

He doesn’t know.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Tony date until he breaks your heart, he soon regrets it.

Word count: 1,800

Warnings: angst. cheating (sorry). Tony’s 40 readers 28. Swearing. pepper is terrible (sorry) mentions of miscarriage.

Masterlist

You had been dating Tony for the past three years, you met when he bumped into you in the restaurant you worked at. The air was knocked out of the both of you, you not only because you hadn’t expected to be nearly knocked down on your ass or the feeling of a strong arm wrapping themselves around your waist just before you hit the ground. Him because he wasn’t expecting to knock into the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

From that day on Tony came into the restaurant just to see you, spending money on food he didn’t eat sometimes he would just sit at the bar and talk to you if you were manning it.

Six months after your initial meeting he asked you out even though there was an age difference between the pair of you, you said yes.

Everyday since you two were dating was different, he spoiled you to no end from expensive gifts to lavish trips to beautiful places. The love you two shared was something you never experienced before, it was pure. It was genuine.

You had never been happier.

For the past five months Tony was becoming distant from you, he was always working on projects that he never let you in on which you understood, you didn’t need to know the ins and outs of his business. Whenever you were lucky enough to spend time with him he was on his phone texting. When he came home from work he would go straight into the bathroom and you’d be lying in bed hearing the shower running.

For five months you tried and tried to get him to slow his work schedule down worried for what it was going to do with his health but all he replied with was yeah I will, but it never happened.

Today was your four year anniversary and since he hadn’t said anything about what you two would be doing you had decided that you’d surprise him at work with a home cooked meal since you knew he wouldn’t leave to go to a restaurant as work was too busy. Hopefully he could spare thirty minutes of his time to spend with you. It was your anniversary after all.

Getting out of the car you walked into the tower, greeting the receptionist with a smile receiving one in return you go into the elevator. The higher the box went up the worse your nerves got.

It’s just Tony, you thought to yourself.

Once the door opened you looked around to see any of the hero’s you had become friends with in the now four years you had been with Tony but you couldn’t find anyone so you headed straight to Tony’s office. Knocking on the door twice you opened the door.

And that’s where everything that had been happening in the past five months where Tony had been acting strange and distant had all made sense.

The man you was in love with, the man you stood by when everyone slated him, the man that defended you publicly when you was being called a gold digger, the man who has now officially broke your heart.

That man was sitting on the couch in his office with a blonde woman sat on his lap. Lips locked together. Her shirt on the floor. His hands roaming her torso.

“This looks bad...”

That’s all what the man who you have loved for four years, the man who you have just caught cheating on you, said when he heard you drop the containers off food on the floor.

“What is it babe? Oh it’s you” the blonde said when he pulled away from her, she saw where he was looking so she turned to face you.

Your heart dropped.

It was Pepper.

With your eyes fixed on his you stumbled backwards knocking into the door frame on your way out. Turning around you walked as fast as your legs could carry you back to the elevator, with every step you took you could hear Tony behind you.

“Y/n. Y/n, baby slow down. Please just wait” thanks to the wait of the elevator he managed to catch up to you.

“Baby it-it’s not what-“

“How long?”

His heart clenched painfully at the way your voice sounded so small, seeing the way you flinched at him touching you crushed him. Tony knew that he only had himself to blame. He also knew he was going to have to tell you the truth, knowing for a fact that you were going to be leaving him forever when he told you broke his heart.

“Y/n-“

“How long”

“S-six mo-months” Tony’s stomach sunk when he saw your hand go flying to cover your mouth, hearing a muffled sob coming from you.

“W-why?”

“Y/n-“

“Why. Why Tony?”

“I-I-I…I don’t know”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why he’s been cheating on you for the past six months. He doesn’t know why he’s cheated on you and thrown your three years relationship down the drain.

He doesn’t even have an answer to give you for breaking your heart into millions of pieces.

“Wasn’t-“ No. No you wasn’t going to ask that. No way was you going to ask the cheater ‘wasn’t I good enough’ or ‘what did I do wrong’. He was the one that cheated, not you. No way was you going to ask all the questions that you wanted to ask because he simply did not know why he had been cheating on you for the past six months with his assistant.

The same assistant that knew you two were dating.

“Y/n baby please-“

“Babe have you told her?” Pepper’s voice cut him off this time.

Tony’s eyes went straight to his shoes finding it easier for him to shake his head without looking at you.

“To-told me what?”

What could be worse than finding out that your boyfriend had been cheating on you for six months?

“I’m pregnant! We’re going to have a baby” 

That’ll do it. That was worse.

You and Tony agreed that you’d both start trying to get pregnant when you celebrated your three year anniversary. It just wasn’t working but you kept trying. Until eight months ago. You found out you was pregnant, the way Tony’s face lit up with tears streaming down his cheeks when you told him he was going to be a father engrained it’s self into your memory.

A month after that happy day you woke up to cramps in your stomach, Tony rushed you to the hospital where they told you that you had lost baby Stark.

Maybe that’s what drove him into the arms of another woman. A woman who was the same age as him. A woman that could give him what he’s always wanted.

A woman that simply wasn’t you.

“D-do you love her?”

Tony frowned at the question, he expected you to call him names or something. He expected you to tell him that he was worse than the devil himself but no, no you asked him if he loved Pepper.

“Y-yes”

“I-I wish you two t-the best.” Tony’s sad eyes filled with tears, the itch to ask him why he was sad for gnawed at you, Pepper looked smug.

Turning to Pepper you looked her in the eyes “you know the saying don’t you? What they do with you…they do on you”

You were rather proud of the fact that you didn’t stutter when looking at the woman who was sleeping with your boyfriend. Seeing her smug smile drop when she understood what you were implying turned your pain into satisfaction.

“Y/n?”

“Hel-hi Tony”

“I knew that was you, hi”

It’s been six years since you last saw Tony, a year after leaving you met a divorcee a few months after moving to a new town. Things moved quickly between the pair of you, a year after meeting him he proposed, a month later you were married, eight months later you gave birth to your daughter. Finding yourself pregnant four months after giving birth to Ali, several months afterwards you gave birth to twin boys Harvey and Jackson.

“Hi Tony. What are you doing here?”

Here being in the town you lived in with your family, here being in the car park of target.

“We had a mission just dropping off for some food, what about you?”

“I live here”

“Oh, so how have you been?”

“Fine. What about you?”

“Fine. Fine. I-I messed up Y/n/n badly! Turned out that the baby wasn’t mine an-and I’ve been trying to find yo-“

“Momma!” You turned around to find Ali running at you full speed, her pigtails flailing around as she got closer to you.

“Momma? Y/n is she mine?”

“No-“ you had to laugh at his question. Luckily he hadn’t touched you in them five months of him cheating on you, it was impossible for him to be the dad of your beautiful baby girl. “No she’s my husbands”

“H-husband?” Tony stuttered, eyes going straight to your ring finger. Heart sinking when he found a shiny diamond ring sitting there.

“That would be me, nice to meet a friend of Y/n’s. Baby the twins made me get them a new toy”

“Made you? Your an adult, they are only children”

“They’re scary babe”

Tony stood there awkwardly watching the interaction between the woman who he has never stopped loving, and her husband.

“T-twins? You have three kids?”

“Yeah, they practically run the house. Always outnumbered with the three little rascals” your husband said smiling proudly. “Oh by the way I’m Andy, nice to meet you.”

“Tony”

“Yeah I know who you are. Come on baby we need to get going home” Tony didn’t like the way Andy’s voice was towards him.

“Coming love. It was nice seeing you Tony, I’m sorry about the baby. I wish you nothing but happiness, goodbye”

You didn’t even let him say anything back to you before you took Andy’s waiting hand as he had Ali in his other arm.

Getting into the car with your husband after he got Ali into her car seat, you smiled at the twins and Jacob - your stepson - then at your husband.

After finding out about Tony’s betrayal you thought you would never find love and happiness again but life lead you to Andy, the man who made you feel loved more than Tony ever did. Andy made you feel happier more than Tony ever did.

“Let’s go home”

As your family’s car pulled out of the parking lot Tony’s eyes never left the vehicle.

He had lost his everything the moment he let Pepper kiss him that first time. Now six years on he had truly lost his world to another man.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[auroralwriting]

clean 2

tfatws! bucky barnes x stark! reader

bucky and you finally start your life together, washing each other clean of your pasts

word count: 2k | warnings: coupleish fluff with a hint of angst, part one

"Bucky, you have to admit, the navy sofa looks so much better than the green one."

The two sofas were displayed on two sets of phones, seemingly calling to be chosen. It was a tough pick, but ultimately, Bucky knew whatever color you wanted was going to be the one you'd get.

It had been a whole month since your first kisses, since the harsh end of Karli, and the new beginning to much happier lives. So far, the only people to know about Bucky and your relationship was Pepper and Morgan, both extremely accepting of the news. You both decided to wait on telling sam until your apartment was perfectly ready for visitors. That, of course, came with the much needed decoration of the place.

"C'mon, doll. Our sofa now is already so nice." Bucky argued.

Your face was dumbfounded, "Buck, that sofa was the previous owners. Imagine how gross it is, we have to get a new one. Plus, you can't say no to the one who's buying."

Bucky gave a defeated sigh, "I'm pretty sure this money isn't what Tony intended it to be for."

"Well, technically it's all my money since I own the company." You debated with a shrug. "And it's what I intend to use it for, that's all that matters."

So, with a few clicks, the couch was bought.

The apartment was filled with decorations now. It felt so much homier and more comfortable. Now, with you by his side, Bucky finally felt comfortable sleeping in a bed once again. Of course, it was one you had picked out, but Bucky didn't mind; you had wonderful taste.

The vibration of your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out to look at the screen, you smiled and showed it to Bucky.

"Hello?" You said as you pressed the accept button.

"Hi Auntie Iron!" Morgan's sweet voice came through the phone, out on speaker for you and Bucky to hear. You could see his eyes melt at her words.

"Hi there, Miss Morgan!" You cheered back. "How's my favorite niece in the whole wide galaxy?"

Morgan giggled, "I'm you're only niece!"

"Exactly!" You laughed. "How's Momma? Is she the one who called?"

"No, I'm mad at her." Morgan pouted, causing you to give a cheeky look to Bucky. "She won't let me have more juice pops."

You feigned a gasp, "No she didn't,"

"Tell her I can have all the juice pops ever!" Morgan cried out in exasperation.

"Well, Morgie, Momma said I have to be a better influence on you," You paused, handing the phone to Bucky, "But she never said your favorite Uncle had to be."

Morgan let out a huge gasp, "Uncle Bucky?" She yelled excitedly.

"Hi Morgan," Bucky smiled as he spoke. Bucky was nervous to meet Morgan, and officially meet Pepper, too. After about three and a half minutes, Morgan had Bucky wrapped around her little finger as she dangled from his metal arm. It took Pepper only seven minutes to accept Bucky with welcoming arms, with a slight amount of hesitancy, of course. But seeing Morgan so obsessed with him, it was hard to not crack. Now, you'd have to say Pepper liked Bucky more than you, and you were her in-law. "I hear your Mom won't let you have any more juice pops."

"It's not fair!" Morgan cried, "I only had one. Tell her you said it's okay, Uncle Buck!"

Bucky chuckled, "But did you have a cheeseburger today?"

Morgan went silent, "... No."

"Well that's probably why then," Bucky laughed. "How about this, you promise your Mom you'll eat all your vegetables at dinner and then you can have a juice pop before bed."

Through the phone, it was clear Morgan was gagging. "I hate carrots!"

"Then you probably won't get a juice pop. I'm doin' you a favor, Morg." Bucky said. "Your Mom's stubborn, this is the best deal I can get you."

A large sigh came through, "Fine," Morgan sighed, "But I want a purple one!"

"Then a purple one it is," Bucky grinned as Morgan cheered.

After a few minutes of talking to Pepper after Morgan finally handed the phone over, you laid your head on Bucky's lap as his hand found your hair. "They love you," You smiled.

"I love them," Bucky replied. A small silence ensued right after, and by looking at Bucky's face, his brows all creased and lips pressed together, you knew he was in deep thought.

"What?" You questioned softly, looking up and softly caressing his cheek. "Are you thinking about Steve?"

Bucky took sight of your face and knew there was no use lying. "You always know exactly what I'm thinking about." He mused, watching as you tilted your head slightly. "I'm just thinking about how.. happy he would've been for us."

"You think?" You acknowledged.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "He would've been over the moon for us." Bucky sat you up, sitting you down on his lap as his arms enclosed around your waist. "He woulda seen how happy you make me, how loved I feel. He would've had no choice but to love us."

With a small laugh, you put your hands on Bucky's cheeks, "He might've cried if you put it to him like that," You remarked as Bucky smiled softly. "You two are just big ol' softies,"

"Only for you, doll." Bucky's thumbs rubbed soft circles over your clothes in the softest touch he could give.

"What else are you thinking about?" You continued, "There's never just one thought in that mind of yours."

Bucky clicked his tongue, "Are you sure you aren't a mind reader? Maybe that suit is ingrained in your brain or something." You both laughed. Bucky continued, "I'm thinking about if Tony would've been happy for us."

"I think he would've," You answered as Bucky raised a brow. "Buck, I've literally never had a boyfriend longer than maybe two weeks. If anything, Tony would be thrilled I'm not dying alone in the near future." Bucky gave a small lopsided smile as you continued. "But I truly, from the bottom of my heart, believe he would've been so happy I found someone who loves me so much."

"He still would've punched me," Bucky shrugged.

You nodded with a hesitant grin, "Probably, but then he would've loved us."

Quickly, Bucky spoke, his words in a rush. "I wanna tell Sam about us."

Previously, you'd both talked about how you wanted to keep this private. However, it was becoming increasingly harder with the press following "CEO Stark" around everywhere, and how Sam wouldn't stop nagging Bucky about why he's been so off the radar in the last month.

"Are you sure it's time?" You asked softly. "We can still wait if you need time,"

Bucky's heart swelled at your gentle words. You always knew what to say to remind him he's his own person, allowed to make his own opinions, have his own thoughts and feelings. "Yeah, doll. I'm sure I'm ready."

"Okay," You nodded, a small smile creeping on your face. "When do we wanna tell him?"

"How about I invite him over to see the newly decorated place, and then we tell him together, in person." Bucky offered. He was always so good at making the best plans.

You nodded quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him in for a kiss. "That sounds wonderful," You agreed as you pulled apart.

"Man, this place looks great!" You heard Sam remark as he walked into your living room. Right now, you were waiting in Bucky and your bedroom for the right time to come out. "Did you hire some interior designer to do this? No way your taste picked out this shit."

Bucky laughed, "No, but I'll give your compliments to the chef,"

You could hear them walking around, "I'm proud of you, Bucky, really. You're doing great for yourself."

"I've had a lot of help along the way," Bucky replied. You didn't hear any footsteps anymore, so you assumed they were sitting down.

"Damn, this is a nice couch." Sam commented. You gave yourself a metaphorical pat on the back, you knew the navy one would be the best. "It's soft, this is nice. I could sleep here." After a beat, Sam asked, "So, what have you been up to?"

"I could ask you the same, Cap," Bucky teased.

Sam laughed, "Not too much, just a lot of press, then going back home to be with the family."

You could tell Bucky was probably nodding along, humming in reply like he always did. "Look, man. I have something I've been wanting to tell you." This was it.

"Oh God, who did you piss off this time?" Sam sighed as Bucky chuckled.

"It's not that bad," Slowly, you opened the bedroom door as quietly as you could and hid behind the wall, right around the corner to the living room. "There's something I- we've, been meaning to tell you,"

Before Sam could reply, you turned the corner and gave a small wave, leaning up on the fronts of your feet nervously. "Hi, Sam."

The look on Sam's face was so priceless you wished you would've taken a photo. For a moment, he just gaped at you, looking back and forth between Bucky and you. Then, the biggest smile known to man pushed its way through as he stood up, tightly hugging Bucky and giving him a clap on the back. "Man, I knew something was up with you!" Sam made his way over to you and gave you a tight hug. "And I knew Bucky wasn't the one to make this place look as nice as it does." The three of you laughed as you sat down next to Bucky, his arm wrapping around your waist.

"Any questions?" You asked as Sam sat down next to you. His eyes glimmered as he beamed.

"So many," Sam replied quickly. "One, who started this? Two, how long? Three, who else knows? Four-"

Bucky held out a hand, "Let's just start with three for now. Technically me, I kissed her first."

"And its been about a month now," You continued. "The only other people who know are Pepper and Morgan."

Sam raised a brow, "What was the jury's vote?"

"Jury voted in favor," You responded. "Bucky's already Morg's favorite uncle."

Bucky's face turned pink in embarrassment as Sam laughed, "Wow, Uncle Buck. I didn't know you were such a child magnet. All the kids you meet love you."

"What can I say, I'm just a people person." Bucky joked.

"It's just the metal arm," You joked as Bucky squeezed your side causing you to sequel lightly, pushing yourself into his side as he chuckled. "Soon we're hopefully gonna get a cat, too."

Bucky sighed, "Doll, I've already told you, we cannot get a cat."

"You'll love a cat!" You cried, "Plus, you're an animal person, you can't lie about that."

Sam chimed in, "Its true. When he met Kate Bishop's dog, he couldn't leave that thing alone for more than two minutes."

"It was the dog who couldn't leave me alone," Bucky scoffed.

The three of you continued to laugh and talk all night. Sam eventually convinced you both to come down to Sarah's again to spend some more time there. Of course, you quickly agreed. Now that your best friend and close family knew, it felt like all was becoming normal for once in your lives. Now was the time you began to shed yourselves free of your past and make a happier future together. Finally, you were both clean.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Marry Me

Summary: Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying your girlfriend of two years but she broke up with you before you had the chance to ask her for her hand. Now with a wedding invitation in your hand, she's getting married but she's not marrying you.

Pairings: Past!Wanda Maximoff x reader, Yelena Belova x reader

Warnings: mention of cheating, angst with a happy ending, modern AU, no powers/Avengers, Starks aren't dead and decent parents lol

Word Count: 4.4k

‘Together with their families Wanda and Vision invite you to their wedding,’ the world around you seemed to become white noise. You didn’t hear your roommate talk about some guy that stood her up or the weatherman talking about the weather. Nothing else seemed to matter. “Are you listening to me?” No, you weren’t. That’s what you wanted to say but you stayed frozen, unable to speak. Sarah snatched the invitation out of your hand. You didn’t bother to stop her. “No fucking way this bitch invited you to her wedding,” Sarah had strong feelings about the ending of your relationship with Wanda. She had every right to be upset as she was the one to mend the broken pieces. “Are you going?”

“Fuck Sarah I don’t know,” you glanced at the time on the stove. “And I do not have time for this.” You were supposed to have a quick lunch at home and then return to the office for a meeting with important investors. Being blindsided by an invite to your ex-girlfriend’s wedding was something you didn’t have time for. “I have to go. Just leave it on the fridge,” you grabbed your backpack. Lunch was a protein bar and a banana.

“Hey, dumbass,” you stopped at the door, turning to face your roommate. “I love you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Love you too, dumbass.” You walked out of your apartment, not bothering with the elevator. It was a beautiful sunny day, a stark contrast to the emotions that were swirling inside of you. Once upon a time, you dreamed of marrying Wanda. You were together for 2 years and knew every detail of how she wanted the wedding to be. It would be out in the country, not too many people to save on money. Maybe on an apple orchard or magnolia trees surrounding the ceremony. You would have given her everything, no matter the cost, and you were looking at rings to buy. Then she broke up with you. It was rather sudden, out of the blue, and she never gave you a good enough explanation. She told you that she fell out of love with you. A month later, she and Vision started dating. Sarah figured she was cheating on you. You couldn’t stomach that possibility.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Tony said as the elevator’s door opened to his office. You rolled your eyes and sat down in the empty chair in front of his desk. You gave Pepper a small smile.

“I’m technically early,” you opened the protein bar. “I got distracted at home.” Tony sent a questioning look to his wife.

“Do you want-?”

“No,” you cut him off. “Let’s begin.” You got out your tablet and the meeting began without a second thought. You were the Chief Entrepreneur of Stark Industries. Your parents were close friends with the Starks and you and Tony grew up together. He was the brother you never had. So when Howard stepped down as Executive Chairman, Tony took over and promoted Pepper to CEO and you to Chief Entrepreneur. You were responsible for managing a portfolio of entrepreneurs. Your team was the future of Stark Industries, taking on risks and coming up with new products while Pepper ran the company. You didn’t envy her job and you loved working here. It was the best part of your day. However, it got uncomfortable and awkward when you had to deal with the CFO, who happened to be Vision and Tony’s brother.

They weren’t related by blood but you knew that made no difference, you were close with Natasha and Yelena. Howard and Maria adopted Vision when you and Tony were in high school. He was two years younger than you. You remembered the day when Vision and Wanda announced their relationship so clearly. Tony dragged you into his office and asked if you wanted him to fire Vision and kick his ass. You told him that it wasn’t necessary. You were professional and respectful with the man. It was rare that your paths crossed. You only had to be in the same room as him during company-wide meetings or meetings with investors. Of course, you had one today. The universe was testing you.

Once Tony concluded the meeting, you and Pepper left his office. It was rare that he came to these types of meetings as he trusted you and Pepper to make the right calls regarding the company. You both stopped to make a quick coffee. “Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “Are you helping Wanda with her wedding?”

“She’s asked me for some advice here and there,” she looked at you curiously. “Why?”

“Do you know why she invited me then?” In hindsight, you probably should have waited for the CEO to not be taking a sip of her coffee before dropping the news. She coughed, choking on the hot liquid. You bite your lip, trying to get your laughter under control, and rubbed her back to help her calm down. “Sorry.” You giggled. She waved you off and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“It’s fine,” she cleared her throat. “She invited you to her wedding.” You nodded as you continued on your way to the board room.

“I got the invitation today,” you said. “It was why I was late, kind of took me by surprise.” You took a sip of your coffee.

“Shit, I don’t blame you,” you giggled. You loved Pepper. She was a perfect fit for Tony. She was the only one that could reel in your brother’s energy. “Are you going to go?” You didn’t answer. “Tony is Vision’s best man and I know Wanda asked Natasha to be her maid of honor.” You weren’t surprised by that. Natasha was the reason Wanda was part of your workgroup and how you met her. The redhead held onto a lot of guilt because of what happened. You didn’t blame her.

“Not sure, Pep. We will see,” you saw Yelena and Natasha waiting for you and you quickened your pace. Natasha was the Chief of Staff and the first person you hired when you got promoted. She helped you manage executive goals and you trusted her to oversee projects you didn’t have time for. You worried when your relationship ended with Wanda your friendship would the redhead was going to be jeopardized. It wasn’t and a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. “Are you ready?” You asked Yelena when you got closer. The blonde was the reason you were having the meeting. She was a new hire but there was no limit to the ideas she had. Her latest project would partner Stark Industries with Wakandans International to develop a better prosthetic.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” her Russian accent took you by surprise when you first met her as Natasha introduced her as her sister. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Don’t be nervous,” she gave you a pointed look. “Come here,” you dragged her away from her sister and Pepper to a more private area. “You are going to kill it today. Do you know why?” She shook her head. “Because you have a passionate for this project on a level I’ve never seen before,” she began to smile. “And you have the support of everyone at this company, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Just go in there and speak with the same passion you had when you explained it to me and you’ll do great.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you having some much faith in me,” you put your hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

“No need to thank me,” you brought her back over to her sister with her hand still on her shoulder. You didn’t miss the questioning look the redhead sent you and you removed your hand quickly. “Shall we?” You opened the door for your group and everyone found their seats to wait for the others.

The meeting went…okay. You introduced everyone to Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye. You’ve spoken to the trip on the phone but it was nice to meet them in person. Yelena began to present her research and the importance of the partnership but Vision questioned every little thing to an annoying degree. You understood it was his job to understand how this would affect the company financially however it was starting to piss you off. Even Yelena knew he was getting on your nerves as you tirelessly defended everyone in your group. The glares he was sending your way weren’t helping. Was there trouble in paradise?

In the end, the deal was signed and work with the Wakandans could being. Plus, you didn’t murder your ex’s fiance so it was a win-win in your book.

*

You loved when a new deal was signed. It meant an influx of projects for your team to work on and more people to help. But the first day was meant with paperwork, scheduling, and delegating responsibilities. And meetings. So many meetings. You were tired, hungry, and in desperate need of a beer. You were putting on your headphones as you exited the elevator and headed for the door but a voice calling out your name caused you to stop. It was a voice you knew so well. “Wanda,” you said as your ex-girlfriend approached you. She looked good, wearing a long dress that touched the ground. Her hands were resting in front of her and she was playing with the rings that were on her fingers. A tale sign of her anxiety. “What are you doing here?” You questioned.

“Waiting for Vision,” Right. Of course, she was. That was a stupid question. “He said you and Yelena closed on a big deal.”

“We did,” you said. “Yelena did a majority of the work. I just guided her in the right direction.” You saw a strange emotion flash across her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came so you couldn’t place it.

“Well congratulations,” you smiled as your thanks. An awkward beat of silence passed between you two. God, you didn’t know how to get out of this conversation. “Did you get your invitation?”

“Uh yes, I did,” Great. This is exactly where you didn’t want this conversation to go. “It was beautifully designed.” It wasn’t a total lie, you just had no memory of what it looked as you stared at the tagline - ‘Wanda and Vision invite you.’ Wanda and Vision. She wanted to get married but she wasn’t marrying you.

“Do you think-” your name being called out cut her off and you turned towards the sound. It was Yelena. You didn’t realize the blonde was still at the office and you never been more excited to see her.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I didn’t think you were going to wait for me.” She said as she got closer. “Oh hi, Wanda.” The blonde plastered a fake smile on her face.

“Hi Yelena,” the smile on Wanda’s face was strained. Yelena looked at you.

“Ready to go get drinks?” Drinks? Her green eyes said a lot more than her simple statement. She was giving you an out. You made a mental note to increase her yearly bonus.

“I am,” you smiled at your ex. “It was good seeing you, Wanda. I’ll see you around.”

“Of course,” she said. “Congratulations, again. You both deserve to celebrate.” Yelena linked her arm with yours.

“Bye Wands,” the blonde dragged you to the door. When you both stepped outside and you were out of sight, Yelena dropped her arm. “Boy, you could feel the tension in the lobby.” You let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you for the save,” you said. “I owe you one.” She shrugged.

“Don’t mention it. I do it a lot for Kate and America when we go out. It’s second nature,” she started to smile. Oh, that smile was trouble. “Buuuut, if you want to make it up to me I know of a bar that is close by. We do have something to celebrate.”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand on your chin pretending to think. “I don’t think we have anything to celebrate,” you teased. “And I am pretty tired.” You faked a yawn.

“Suka (bitch),” you pushed on your shoulder. You gasped.

“That is assault,” you said. “I’m calling HR.” Yelena rolled her eyes.

“Are we going or not?”

“Lead the way, printsessa (princess),” you bowed. She laughed, throwing her head back at your pathetic attempt at Russian. You liked the sound of it.

*

“I still can’t believe you are going to this stupid wedding,” Sarah said through Face time. You sighed as you put your tie underneath the collar of your shirt. “And you didn’t even bring me.”

“I didn’t have a plus one,” that was 100% on purpose. The last thing Wanda would have wanted was for your best friend that wasn’t her number 1 fan to come to her wedding. “What else was I supposed to do? Tony closed the office because everyone was invited and you are visiting family.” You weren’t going to sit at home and be depressed. At least some of your friends were going to be there, but most importantly Yelena. “You put your jacket on. “How do I look?” You were in an all-gray suit with a white shirt. The only pop of color came from your tie.

“Hot,” Sarah said. “Damn if I were into chicks I’d grab you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Thanks,” you sighed, looking down at the watch Howard gave you for your 18th birthday. “I better get going. I’ll text you after the ceremony.”

“Good luck!” You ended the call. You were going to need more than you, what you needed was at least 5 shots.

*

The ceremony was in an apple orchard. It appeared the happy couple rented out the inn and the orchard for a private wedding. You were handed confetti as you approached the rows of seats. There were small groups of people, all of them you knew, waiting for the ceremony to begin. You saw Pepper, who sent you a small wave. You waved back and sat in the back row at the end of the row. Thankfully, no one came up to you to talk because you weren’t in the talking mood. Instead, you played with the watch on your wrist. “Well,” you looked towards the voice and saw Howard Stark. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Mr. Stark,” you stood up, holding out your hand for him to shake. The man rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug.

“Please. I changed your diapers when you were a kid,” you felt your body heat up in embarrassment. “Drop the act, kid, it makes me feel old,” you smiled and sat down, leaving the end seat for him. “How are you? You don’t come by the house anymore.” That was true. You didn’t want to run into Wanda or Vision by chance.

“I’ve been busy,” you told him. “Your son is running me ragged.” It was the furthest thing from the truth but it pulled a laugh out of the older man.

“It was the best decision that boy has ever made promoting you and Pepper,” you smiled. “But how are you?” He asked again. “How is this?” He placed a gentle hand on your heart. You sighed, looking at the ceremony. This was going to be you, marrying Wanda but she picked someone else.

“Tired, Howard, if I’m being honest. I feel a little lost,” he nodded. You knew the man would never judge you. He’s seen you at your lowest point when you found out your parents were killed in a car accident. You were in a meeting with him and Tony when Maria came in to tell you. Losing them broke you but the Starks were there to catch you. It was why it hurt so much that it was Vision who started dating Wanda.

“I always told my boys to go after what they wanted, I never expected that advice to hurt someone I considered a daughter,” your breath hitched. You always so him as a father-like figured but hearing him call you his daughter brought tears to your eyes. You looked at the archway. You didn’t blame him. “But,” he grabbed onto your shoulder. “You will have your love story that will arrival that of your parents and I can’t wait to see it,” you fought the tears that threatened to fall. “You will always be a Stark, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Now I must be going but we will drink at the bar,” he stood up fixing his tie. “I believe I’m paying for it so drinks are on me.” You laughed, whipping away a tear.

“Thank you, Howard,” he gave you a salute and got ready for the ceremony. Folding your hands you sat back and watched as the seats began to fill. Soft music began to play and you were going to need a drink after this.

*

You took a glance at the seating chart. Table 3 with Natasha, Bucky, and Yelena. You were grateful she did that for you. Did you look like an alcoholic as you were the first one to the bar? Probably but you didn’t care. Besides you knew everyone at this wedding and it wasn’t like you were here to impress anyone. You ordered a strawberry mojito and waited for your drink as the rest of the guests filed in. “You know,” you turned to face Yelena as she walked over to you. She was wearing a light green full-length dress. It had a deep v-neck and a slit that went up to her thigh. Her blonde hair was braided. “I did not believe my sister when she said you’d RSVP but here you are.” She ordered herself a long island.

“Yelena,” you said. “You look gorgeous.” The compliment flowed so easily off your lips. You liked the blush that crept up on her cheeks.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she fixed the collar of your shirt. “How did you enjoy the ceremony?” She got her drink from the bartender.

“I’m glad to be drinking,” you said, holding out your arm. She took it and you walked her over to your table. The blonde laughed.

“Well, it’s an open bar. So let’s drink till our heart’s content.”

The reception was fun. The first dance was beautiful and speeches made by Tony and Pietro made you laugh. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t paying attention. You found yourself watching Yelena. You weren’t sure when your feelings shifted for the blonde. Since the partnership with the Wakandans, you and she spent late nights at the office. Those nights were filled with laughter, stories, and dreams shared, and stressing over upcoming deadlines. For the first time since your breakup with Wanda, you felt free. Even Tony said something about your mode change.

Natasha sat down next to you with another drink. “I love that you’ve moved on from Wanda,” she handed you the drink. “But can you stop undressing my sister in front of me?” You jumped, startled by the accusation.

“Nat, shit, I’m sorry,” her laughter cut your nervous rambling off. “That’s not funny,” you whined, taking a sip of your drink. It was a lot stronger than your other ones. You wondered if she made it herself.

“I think it’s hilarious,” she leaned back in her chair. “So are you going to ask her out or just stare at her all night?” You groaned, rubbing your hands across your face.

“I don’t know,” your eyes immediately went back to the blonde. She was standing with Kate and Carol. The brunette must have said something funny because she laughed. God, she was beautiful. She must have felt eyes on her because she looked around until her green eyes found you. She waved and you waved back.

“Look, I’m going to intervene because I love you both. She likes you so make a move,” you looked at the redhead, trying to find any sense that she was messing with you. But you found none.

“Are you sure okay with this?” You questioned. “Because if you aren’t I will ignore my feelings for her,” Natasha put her hand on your shoulder.

“She will treat you better than Wanda,” she squeezed. “And if she does anything to hurt you. I won’t hesitate to kill her.” You covered your mouth as you laughed to now draw attention to you. “Go be happy.” You stood up, grabbing your drink.

“Thank you,” you began to walk over to the blonde. You were nervous. If she was going to allow you to date her, it would be different than dating Wanda. You worked with her, you were technically her superior. If it ended as badly, it could affect the work dynamic. But you couldn’t think like that. You had to take it one step at a time.

“Hi,” Wanda stepped in front of you. She changed out of her wedding dress and into a shorter one. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you all night.”

“Must be hard being the woman of the hour,” you took a sip of your drink and locked eyes with Yelena over Wanda’s shoulder. You gave her a reassuring smile. Wanda chuckled, sipping on her drink. It wasn’t her normal cocktail, which was strange unless being with Vision changed her that much.

“Do you have a minute to talk?” You didn’t but you nodded. She led you to a balcony, and your surprise there was no one out there. She leaned her back against the metal railing. Her hands were on her stomach, playing with the wedding ring. It hit you. The drink wasn’t alcoholic, her hands on her stomach. You took a sip of your drink.

“Your pregnant,” you said. She almost dropped her glass.

“How did-” she cut herself off with a laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” You moved to stand next to her. “It was impossible to keep things from you.” ‘I guess you found a way,’ you wanted to say but you bite your tongue.

“How long?”

“2 months,” That was why they got together so quickly. That was why the engagement came out of nowhere. She cheated on you. Your stomach dropped. “Y/n-” she went to touch your arm but you jerked away from her.

“Don’t,” you hissed. “Don’t try to justify your cheating on me.” Oh, Sarah was going to have a field day with this. You took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “Are you happy?” It took a moment for her to reply.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Then go be happy with Vision and I’ll be happy with someone else. Have a nice life.” You turned to leave.

“With Yelena,” you didn’t like how she said her name. A hint of dislike and jealousy. When you faced her she was already looking at you. That same look was in her eyes that night in the lobby. She was jealous and possessive. Oh, it was comical.

“Don’t say her name like that,” you said, closing the gap between you and your ex. “Do you want to know the difference between me and you? You moved on while we were still together and didn’t have the guts to call it off because you slept with someone else. You have no right to be jealous over something you have no claim to. See around Wanda,” You waved over your shoulder as you walked back into the party. Drowning the rest of your drink, you saw that Yelena was still talking to Kate but America joined them. You through your cup away and walked over to the trio. You placed your hand on Yelena’s back as you approached them. The blonde looked at you, smiling. “Mind if I burrow her?” Kate and America smirked at each other.

“She’s all yours,” you thank them and moved your hand into hers, leading her out of the party. She squeezed your hand every few seconds, singling she was still with you. Finally, you stepped outside.

“I was going to give you 5 more minutes with her before I went and saved you,” you smiled, bringing her closer to you. She set her drink on the table. God, she was gorgeous. The lights danced in her green eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked the urge was becoming too strong to ignore.

“Please,” she whispered. You connected your lips with hers without a moment’s hesitation. Her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to her. You felt her smile against your lips. Soon you pulled away but you kept her close, feeling her breath against your lips and her heartbeat racing. “I’m sorry about Wanda.” The mention of your ex snapped you out of your haze.

“Did you know?” She looked away, glancing at the reception through the window. But you gently placed a finger underneath her chin to look at you.

“I did but I’m not even sure if Natasha and Tony know and I thought she told you,” she was working herself into a panic attack. You brushed your nose against hers and captured her lips in a quick kiss. She calmed down. “I caught them at the office. It was late like so fucking late,” you chuckled. “I wasn’t sure what the hell I stumbled on. I think you were with Tony on a business trip to Japan,” you remembered that trip. You didn’t want to go as you and Wanda were planning on going to visit her family. “I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or her being so close, you weren’t sure why she was apologizing. But that brain power was for the future, sober you to figure out.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” that much you knew. You didn’t blame her. “We’re okay.” She let out a sigh. “Do you want to get out of here?” A playful smirk formed on her lips.

“I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask.”

*

Wanda stood in her kitchen, listening to her twins playing with their toys with the TV on with the latest episode of Bluey, as she flipped through the mail. A majority of it was junk mail; magazines she didn’t remember signing up for or ads trying to get her to buy something. Her fingers stopped on an envelope addressed to her and Vision written in beautiful writing. She ripped it open and stared at the invitation, ‘You are invited to the wedding of Yelena and Y/n, with a reception to follow.’

_

Part 2

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: Brooklyn - Pre-Interview [7/13]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 5.8k Summary: After a week apart on the campaign trail, you're reunited with Steve to get ready for the biggest interview of your life.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: People have been asking about the wedding since chapter one, and you won't get EVERYTHING here, but you will learn a little about how those days went. This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[OCTOBER 5 - EARLY AFTERNOON - BROOKLYN, NEW YORK]

As the car pulls up to the brownstone, your heart begins to race. The familiar facade of red brick and ornate cornices looms before you, a blend of historic charm and modern restoration. The wrought-iron fence that lines the front garden is exactly as you remember it, its intricate patterns casting delicate shadows on the sidewalk in the early afternoon sun. The trees that line the street are ablaze with color - brilliant golds, fiery oranges, and deep crimsons - a stark contrast to the evergreen palms you left behind in California just hours ago.

As you step out of the vehicle, the cool air nips at your cheeks. You gaze up at the four-story building, and the sight of it all brings a flood of memories from those two nights in June - the nervous energy of the night before your wedding, the surreal feeling of returning here as newlyweds though you were still virtually strangers. The first night Steve had been detained in New Hampshire, so you’d stayed in the house alone. The second night you had politely slept in separate bedrooms.

There had been no honeymoon. Instead the two of you had traveled to the Stark corporate retreat facilities two miles up the road from the rustic mansion Tony and Pepper had designed and built together for their family life in upstate New York, and the preparation for the presidential run had moved into the final phases of coaching, strategy, styling consultations, wardrobe outfitting, public address exercises and the like now that you had officially joined the team.

Thinking back on it now, you wonder how either of you managed to make it through the blend of politeness and awkwardness, the concerted efforts to be warm even though both of you were keeping your distance and taking turns testing the waters.

It would be laughable if it wasn’t your life.

One day you will probably laugh about it. Whether or not it will be with Steve by your side… that’s still not clear.

Though it does feel like that longterm reality becomes more of a possibility every day.

As you climb the steps to the front door, you hear a bevy of movement inside. Your pulse quickens, knowing Steve is already here. You've spoken every day this past week, but phone calls and video chats can't compare to being in the same room.

The week apart had been good for you. Instead of closeness by virtue of proximity, the two of you had had to connect purely through conversation; and without sun-up-to-sundown schedules that orbited around each other, the thirty guaranteed minutes became treasured, guarded, and looked forward to.

Sophia is rushing in ahead of you, and you pause for just a moment before stepping over the threshold, taking a deep breath to calm the skittering of your heart.

The entryway is warm and inviting, filled with the soft glow of late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. There’s a thriving buzz of energy and discussion going on as campaign staff fill the living room and are filtering in and out. The scent of fresh coffee wafts through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of old books and polished wood that seems to permeate the brownstone.

There are many hello’s and greetings for you and Sophia, and you ask, “Where’s Steve?

"In here!" Steve's voice calls out from the direction of the kitchen.

You make your way through the bustling living room, nodding more greetings to staff members as you pass. The kitchen doorway comes into view, and your breath catches as you see Steve for the first time in a week.

You round the corner into the spacious kitchen and there he is, leaning against the counter in conversation with Bucky and Jake, a mug of coffee in his hand. The late afternoon sun streaming through the window casts a warm glow on his profile, highlighting the strong line of his jaw and the golden hues in his hair. He looks relaxed, at ease in a way you rarely see him on the campaign trail.

His eyes light up when he sees you, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Hey," he says softly, setting down his coffee and taking a step towards you.

"Hey yourself," you reply, your own smile matching his. The kitchen suddenly feels very crowded - most of your life with Steve was surrounded by other people.

Diplomatically, Jake and Bucky begin conversing with each other, giving you a bit of privacy, and Steve closes the distance between you in a few strides. There's a moment of hesitation, both of you unsure how to greet each other after a week apart. But before you can say anything else, he wraps you in a tight embrace. The hug is warm and comforting, Steve's strong arms wrapping around you securely. You breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of soap and something uniquely him. Briefly the bustle of the campaign fades away, and it's just the two of you. A tension you didn't even realize you were carrying in your shoulders begins to dissipate.

"Welcome home," he murmurs into your hair.

You pull back slightly, looking into his familiar face. "Home," you repeat softly, testing the word. It feels right, somehow, in a way it didn't before.

Steve's eyes search your face, as if trying to memorize every detail. "How was your flight?"

"Long," you admit with a small laugh. "But productive. Sophia and I went over the schedule for the next few days."

"I'm glad you made it back safely," Steve says, his hand warm on your lower back as he guides you further into the kitchen. "I know the West Coast tour was grueling."

You nod, feeling the exhaustion of the past week in your bones, not that either of you are strangers to exhaustion these past months. "It was intense, but I think we made some real progress out there. The response at the events with Helen Santos was incredible."

Now that you’re at the counter, Jake and Bucky tune into the conversation with you. "I saw some of the coverage,” Bucky said, his eyes lighting up with interest. “You two seemed to really connect with the crowds."

"She's amazing," you say, a note of admiration in your voice. "The way she can command a room, inspire people... I learned so much just watching her."

"I'm sure you held your own," Steve says with a soft smile. "I heard great things about your speeches."

A warmth spreads through your chest at his words.

“Of course she held her own,” Jake interjects, looking like a proud dad, and you can’t help but glow at his proclamation - he’s the political aficionado and has no reason to give false praise. “We’ve got great polling and social media engagement surges we can tie right back to your work with Zoey over the last week.

“Now, we've got a lot to cover," Jake continues, his tone businesslike but with a hint of eagerness. "The interview is in three days, and we need to make sure we're all on the same page."

You nod, grateful for the shift to campaign matters. It gives you a moment to collect yourself, to process the warmth of Steve's greeting and the conflicting emotions it stirs within you.

"Right," you say, slipping into professional mode. "What's our game plan?"

Jake launches into a detailed rundown of the schedule leading up to the interview, outlining prep sessions and strategy meetings. As he speaks, you're acutely aware of Steve's presence beside you, his hand still resting lightly on your lower back. It's a casual touch, one that would look natural to anyone observing, but it sends a small thrill through you.

"We've got a mock interview scheduled for tonight after dinner, and we’ll try to wrap up between nine and ten-”

You and Steve exchange a surprised glance, both of your eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, did you say we'd be wrapping up at nine or ten?" Steve asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Jake nods, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "That's right. You two marvel and joke all you want, but tomorrow isn’t just another game day, it’s the Super Bowl of interviews. You’ll need proper rest."

You can't help but chuckle, the sound bubbling up from your chest. After months of grueling 18-hour days that often stretched well past midnight, the idea of having an evening to yourselves seems almost decadent, a luxury you'd forgotten existed.

"I'm not sure I even remember what to do with free time," you joke, looking up at Steve.

“Alright, alright,” Jake says. “You get some lunch, Mrs. Rogers, and we’ll get going in about forty-five minutes.”

[OCTOBER 5 - EVENING - BROOKLYN BROWNSTONE]

The mock interview had gone well, all things considered. Lisa, always poised and professional in her role as campaign spokesperson, has taken on the role of faux-Oprah for the mock interview. She had been practicing for days, studying her posture, mannerisms, and way of speaking in order to mimic Oprah's signature warmth and openness.

Because Oprah was the one who had scooped in and taken the chance to interview Captain America and Mrs. Rogers.

Oprah.

Oprah would be in your home.

Talking to you.

Lisa had thrown many curveballs at you and Steve, probing for weak spots in your narrative and testing your ability to present a united front. For as many public addresses and press appearances as you had done, none of them had been jointly even if you and Steve had been at them together. This was the first time focusing on you and Steve as a married couple, side by side. By the end, you were mentally exhausted but reasonably confident. The real interview would be challenging, but you and Steve had a firm grasp on your rhythm and you felt prepared.

Now, as promised, you find yourself with an unexpected evening of freedom stretching out before you. The house is quiet, the campaign staff having departed for their hotels or to work on other projects. It's just you and Steve, alone in the brownstone for the first time since the awkward night after your wedding.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The quiet is almost deafening after the constant buzz of activity that's surrounded you both for so long. You can hear the tick of the antique clock in the foyer, the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the distant sound of traffic outside. It's strange, almost unsettling, to be surrounded by such stillness.

You glance at Steve, catching his eye. He looks as uncertain as you feel, standing there in the living room, hands in his pockets. The conversations over the phone while you had been apart had grown so natural, but now that you are physically together, alone as you so rarely had ever been, the question of what now? hangs in the air.

Just as you open your mouth to speak, both of your phones buzz simultaneously. You exchange a curious glance before reaching for your devices.

It's a text from Sophie.

Check the kitchen. Enjoy your evening off!

Intrigued, you and Steve make your way to the kitchen, your footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. The warm glow of the pendant lights above the island casts a cozy ambiance as you enter the room.

On the granite countertop, you find an array of options laid out before you. There's a mixing bowl, surrounded by ingredients; a package of cookie dough; a box from a bakery; and a card propped up in front.

You reach for the card, your fingers brushing against the thick cardstock. As you open it, you can't help but smile at the message inside.

Choose Your Own Cookie Adventure!

Option 1: Mix it up! All the ingredients are here for chocolate chip cookies from scratch. Recipe card included.

Option 2: Easy Bake! Pre-made dough ready to pop in the oven.

Option 3: Instant Gratification! Gourmet cookies from Levain Bakery.

Enjoy your evening off and indulge in something sweet together.

You look up at Steve, a mix of amusement and warmth spreading through your chest. "Well," you say, gesturing to the spread before you and handing him the card, "what'll it be, Captain?"

Steve's eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, skimming the message and taking in the options. "I'm tempted by the instant gratification," he admits with a chuckle, "but there's something to be said for the satisfaction of making something from scratch."

You nod, excited at the prospect of doing something so normal. "I agree. So option one together?"

"Sounds perfect," Steve says, already rolling up his sleeves. "I have to warn you, though, I'm not exactly known for my baking skills."

You laugh, the sound light and genuine. "Mine are rusty, so this should be interesting."

As you set to work, there's a comfortable ease between you that wasn't there before. The week apart seems to have reset something, allowing you to just be yourselves without the constant pressure of the campaign surrounding you.

Steve measures out the flour while you cream the butter and sugar together in the mixing bowl. The familiar motions of baking bring back memories of childhood, of lazy weekend afternoons spent in the kitchen with your mother.

"You know," you say, glancing over at Steve as he carefully levels off a cup of flour, "I used to bake cookies with my mom all the time when I was little. It was our Sunday afternoon ritual."

Steve looks up, a soft smile playing at his lips. "That sounds nice. What kind did you make?"

"Oh, all kinds," you reply, whisking the eggs into the butter mixture. "Chocolate chip was a staple, of course. But we baked through most of Martha Stewart’s cookie cookbook.”

“Sweets of any kind were a luxury when I was growing up,” Steve explains,

carefully adding the flour to your mixture.

As he says it, you remember that his formative years took place against the landscape of the Great Depression.

His voice takes on a wistful tone as he continues. "My mom would save up sometimes to make oatmeal cookies for special occasions. I remember the smell filling our tiny apartment."

You pause in your mixing, touched by the image of a young Steve eagerly anticipating his mother's rare treat. "That sounds lovely," you say softly. "I bet those were the best cookies in the world to you."

Steve nods, a faraway look in his eyes. "They really were. I've never tasted anything quite like them since."

There's a moment of comfortable silence as you both work, lost in your own thoughts and memories.

"You know," you say after a while, "I think there's something special about baking. It's not just about the end result, but the process itself. The measuring, the mixing, the way the kitchen fills with warmth and sweet aromas. It's methodical and therapeutic, in a way."

Steve nods thoughtfully as he folds chocolate chips into the dough. "I can see that. Following the steps, creating something with your hands."

You smile, watching him work. There's something endearing about seeing Captain America, the legendary super-soldier, carefully folding chocolate chips into cookie dough. "Exactly. It's a nice change of pace from the constant strategizing and speechwriting we've been doing."

As you work together to scoop the dough onto baking sheets, you find yourself relaxing more and more. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter as you trade stories about kitchen mishaps and childhood memories.

Steve carefully slides the first tray of cookies into the oven, and your inner child buzzes with excellent knowing soon the kitchen will be filled with the warm, sweet aroma of chocolate and vanilla.

You lean against the counter, watching Steve as he sets the timer. There's a domesticity to this moment that catches you off guard, a glimpse of what a normal life with him might look like. It's both thrilling and terrifying. Nothing you’ve done together yet has been conventional in any way, but this is.

You grab a spoon and carve out a scoop of dough to enjoy while you wait. With this kitchen having multiple ovens, all your trays will be done at the same time.

"So, tell me more about your week," you say. "I know we talked every day, but it's not the same as being there."

Steve leans against the counter opposite you, his eyes warm as he considers your question while you savor the sweet, buttery flavor of the raw cookie dough.

"It was...different," he says thoughtfully. "Good in some ways, challenging in others. After everything that happened around Athens and Miami, I felt off-balance for the first couple of days. But the work helped ground me."

You nod, understanding exactly what he means. The campaign trail has a way of demanding your full attention, leaving little room for personal introspection.

"The rallies were energizing," Steve says, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. "There's something incredible about connecting with people face-to-face, hearing their stories, their hopes for the future." He pauses, his brow furrowing slightly. "But I missed having you there beside me. It felt incomplete."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you try to keep your voice steady as you respond. "I know what you mean. The events with Helen and Zoey were amazing, but I kept turning to share something with you, only to remember you weren't there.”

Steve's eyes soften as he meets your gaze. "I'm glad we're back together now," he says quietly. "It feels right, having you here."

A comfortable silence falls between you, filled with the warm scent of baking cookies. You're acutely aware of Steve's presence across from you, the way his eyes linger on your face. There's an intensity to his gaze that sends a shiver down your spine.

The timer dings, breaking the moment. Steve moves to check the cookies, and you can't help but admire the way he moves, graceful despite his size. He pulls out the trays, the smell of freshly baked cookies filling the kitchen.

"They look perfect," you say, peering over his shoulder. The cookies are golden brown, with melted chocolate chips peeking through.

Steve grins, looking pleased. "Not bad for a couple of amateurs.”

You gather a plate and some glasses from one of the cupboards. Steve fills the plate with cookies while you pour some (your preference) milk, and then the two of you gravitate to the living room and land on the couch, diving into the cookies and more conversation.

As you settle in, the warmth of the freshly baked cookies and the comfort of Steve's presence beside you create a cozy atmosphere. The living room, usually a hub of campaign activity, feels different now - intimate and personal. Like it could really be a home you and Steve could live in.

"These are actually pretty good," Steve says, taking a bite of a cookie. "Maybe we missed our calling as bakers."

You laugh, reaching for your own cookie. "I don't know about that. I think the country might have something to say if we suddenly abandoned the campaign to open a bakery."

"True," Steve chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Guess we have a back up plan.”

You laugh, and reach for another cookie.

“I have to admit, some days the idea of pulling the chute and bailing for a simpler life is too tempting."

You nod, understanding exactly what he means. "It's funny, isn't it? How something as simple as baking cookies can feel so... normal. So far removed from the craziness of our lives right now."

Steve nods, his expression thoughtful. "It's moments like these that remind me why we're doing all of this. For a future where people can just live. Bake cookies. Spend time with their families without worrying about the next crisis."

You feel a surge of warmth at his words, at the reminder of the man you married - the one who sees beyond himself, who wants to make the world better for everyone. It’s key to why you were willing to leap blindly into the partnership. "You're right," you say softly. "It's easy to get caught up in the day-to-day chaos of the campaign and forget the bigger picture."

There's a comfortable silence as you both munch on cookies, lost in thought. The ticking of the clock and the distant hum of traffic outside continuing their soothing background noise.

"You know," Steve says after a while, turning to face you more fully on the couch, "If we win, if we don't, either way, things will never be quite 'normal', but..."

He trails off, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to continue. It's the first time either of you has really broached the subject of your future together beyond the campaign.

"But?" you prompt gently, your heart racing.

Steve meets your eyes, his gaze intense and sincere. "But I'd like to think we could have more moments like this. Quiet evenings, doing ordinary things together. Building a life that's ours, not just the one the public sees."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. It's a beautiful picture he's painting, one that you've wondered over yourself.

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest at Steve's words. The idea of building a life together, of having more quiet moments like this, is both thrilling and terrifying. You've spent so much time focusing on the campaign, on presenting the perfect image to the public, that you've barely allowed yourself to imagine what comes after. You’re married, but how married are you? How married will you be?

"I'd like that too," you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's strange, isn't it? We jumped into this marriage, into this campaign, without really knowing each other. And now..."

"And now?" Steve prompts, his eyes searching yours.

Now I can't imagine my life without you in it you think, but you don’t know if you are ready to say it.

You take a deep breath, mustering up at least some of your courage. "Now whether we're in the White House or not, I want us to keep building this."

Steve's hand finds yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. His touch is warm and comforting, grounding you in the moment.

"I want that too," he says softly, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. "When I first agreed to this arrangement, I never imagined..." He trails off, shaking his head slightly.

"What?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steve's eyes meet yours, filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. "I never imagined I'd feel this way. That we'd fit together so well, not just as partners in the campaign, but as..." He pauses, searching for the right words. "As us."

Your heart races at his admission. It mirrors your own feelings so closely - the surprise at how naturally you've fallen into step with each other, the growing depth of your connection. You've both danced around this topic for months, especially the last weeks as neither of you can help but acknowledge the growing connection between you, but never quite putting it into words until now.

"I know what you mean," you say softly, squeezing his hand. "It's been unexpected, but in the best way possible."

Steve's eyes soften, a mix of relief and joy flickering across his face. His hand tightens around yours. "I'm glad I'm not alone in feeling that way," he says, his voice low and intimate.

The air between you feels charged, thick with unspoken emotions and possibilities. You're acutely aware of how close Steve is sitting, of the warmth of his hand in yours, of the way his eyes keep flickering to your lips.

"Steve," you whisper, your heart pounding.

He leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you want to. But you don't. Instead, you find yourself meeting him halfway.

The kiss is soft and tentative at first, a

gentle press of lips that sends a shiver down your spine. It's nothing like the chaste, public kisses you've shared for the cameras or at your wedding. It’s not even like the rushed spontaneous kiss when you got news of the Santos endorsement.

This is real, intimate, just for the two of you.

Steve's free hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. You lean into his touch, your own hand moving to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

The kiss deepens, slow and exploratory. There's no rush, no urgency - just the two of you, finally allowing yourselves this moment of connection. It feels both thrilling and familiar, like coming home to a place you've never been before.

When you finally pull apart, you're both slightly breathless. Steve rests his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed, a look of contentment on his face that makes your heart swell. You take a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the intensity of your feelings and the moment you just experienced.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since we left Miami. Or longer.”

“Me, too,” you admit.

You and Steve shift back slightly, creating a small space between you, but your hands remain intertwined. The tension that had been building for weeks has eased, replaced by a warm, comfortable closeness. You both reach for another cookie, exchanging shy smiles.

"These really are good," you say, savoring the rich chocolate flavor. "We make a pretty good team in the kitchen."

Steve chuckles, his thumb absently stroking the back of your hand. "We make a good team everywhere, I think."

You nod, feeling a surge of affection for this man who has become such an integral part of your life. The living room, bathed in the soft glow of the lamps, feels like a cocoon of warmth and safety.

"I think we might need more milk," you say with a soft laugh, reaching for another cookie. The plate between you is already half empty, a testament to your shared sweet tooth and the quality of your baking.

Steve chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I'll get it," he says, but makes no move to get up, instead pulling you closer.

You sigh contentedly, resting your head on his shoulder.

As the night goes on, the conversation continues to become more intimate, more easy, more comfortable on the couch. Steve eats far too many cookies. You fight the exhaustion that’s been creeping up more insistently, especially as you feel more and more cozy on the couch and nestled against him. But at some point you lose the fight and drift off to sleep and your next moment of awareness is waking up the next morning in a plush king-sized bed, surrounded by luxurious sheets and pillows.

Steve must have carried you upstairs while you were sleeping, and you shift around to see if he’s there, only to find the other side of the bed empty and clearly untouched.

[OCTOBER 6 - MORNING - BROOKLYN BROWNSTONE]

You sigh, more than a little disappointed. But the sweetness of the time you did spend awake together eases the pain, and you have to admit that you would prefer to be alert and aware to appreciate going to bed with your husband for the first time.

You stretch, feeling the soft sheets against your skin. The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine waking up next to Steve, his strong arm draped over your waist, his breath warm on your neck.

Shaking off the reverie, you swing your legs over the side of the bed to begin your day. You quickly shower in the en suite bathroom and get ready for the day. This isn’t a familiar space yet, but it is your new home, outfitted with a mix of new and familiar things for you from hair and skincare products to clothes in the closet. As you dress, you catch the faint aroma of coffee wafting up from downstairs along with the bustling noises of other people. The campaign work is already underway for the day, and you give yourself one more quick look before heading down.

Following the scent, you make your way to the kitchen. Steve is there, his back to you as he stands at the counter, pouring coffee into a mug and talking with Jake and Elsa. They immediately clock you coming in and look your way. Steve notices the shift in their attention and looks over his shoulder.

"Good morning," he says, turning to greet you with a warm smile. He looks sharp in a crisp button-down and slacks. "I hope you slept well."

"I did, thank you," you reply, padding over to the coffee maker.

Steve reaches into the cupboard to retrieve a mug and passes it to you.

"Thanks," you say, accepting the mug from Steve with a smile. As you pour your coffee, you can't help but notice how seamlessly he anticipated your needs. It's a small gesture, but it speaks to how in tune you're becoming with each other.

"Just in time to hear the final anticipated schedule for today," Jake says, his tablet in hand.

You nod, taking a sip of your coffee. "Of course. What's first on the agenda?"

As Jake begins to outline the day's activities, you and Steve stand closer to each other, your arm pressed lightly against his - or his arm pressed against yours. Either way, it’s another subtle but normal moment of intimacy.

Oprah and her team will show up around eight for breakfast and introductions. After breakfast, you’ll speak with her people while the do some initial exploration of topics and background stories to give Oprah notes and options to work from. Elsa reiterates - as she explained during the afternoon prep the day before - that this is the approach because Oprah wants her own context but to be able to have conversation within the interview for the first time, not recreating an exchange.

Lunch will be just you and Steve, Bucky and Sam, Oprah, her partner Stedman, and Oprah’s best friend Gayle. While the breakfast is for introductions, lunch is to relax and build rapport before the cameras are set up and you go into the interview.

As Jake finishes outlining the schedule, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness about the day ahead. Though you’ve developed relationships with Steve, Bucky, Sam, and many of the campaign staff, including Jake and Sophia, you can’t help wishing someone from your past was here today to be part of it all. The prospect of spending time with Oprah, one of the most influential figures in media, is both thrilling and daunting.

The house starts to buzz with even more activity. Stylists arrive to help you and Steve prepare for the day, and a catering team begins setting up for the breakfast.

You and Steve move to the living room, where Bucky and Sam are already seated, deep in conversation. As you approach, Sam looks up with a grin.

"Morning, lovebirds," he teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ready for the big day?"

You roll your eyes good-naturedly as you settle onto the couch next to Steve. "As ready as we'll ever be, I suppose."

"You've got this," Bucky reassures you, his eyes warm and supportive.

"Remember," Sam adds, leaning forward with a grin, "if all else fails, just flash that million-dollar smile and charm Oprah like you charmed us."

You nod, grateful for his encouragement, and Steve takes your hand - which fels as much for him as for you.

Sam launches into a story about a particularly disastrous interview he once had, his animated gestures and spot-on impressions soon having all of you in stitches. Over the past few months, you've grown close to both Bucky and Sam. They've become more than just Steve's friends; they're your friends too. Bucky's quiet strength and dry humor have become a source of comfort, while Sam's infectious optimism and quick wit never fail to lift your spirits during the most stressful moments of the campaign.

There’s a stir of commotion, and you assume Oprah and her camp have arrived, but the face that comes around the corner and into the living room isn’t Oprah.

It’s Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, architect of this presidential plan, and your friend-sister-mentor, impeccably put together as always, in a crisp white blouse and tailored pants, her strawberry blonde hair falling softly over her shoulders.

Your heart leaps at the sight of her, a wave of relief and joy washing over you. Without hesitation, you jump up from the couch and rush to embrace her.

"Pepper!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms around her. "What are you doing here? I had no idea you were coming!"

"Did you really think I'd miss this? This is a huge day for both of you."

As you pull back from the hug, you can feel the sting of tears in your eyes. You had felt it, but hadn't realized how much you had craved an old familiar face, someone who knew you before all of this began.

Pepper smiles warmly, her eyes sparkling with affection. "I couldn't let you face Oprah without some moral support. Plus, I have a bit of experience with high-profile interviews myself."

You laugh, wiping away a stray tear. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

Steve approaches, greeting Pepper with a hug as well. "It's great to have you here, Pepper. Thank you for coming."

"Of course," Pepper says, looking between the two of you with a knowing smile. "How are you both holding up?"

"Nervous," you admit. "But more secure now that you're here."

Pepper nods understandingly. "That's perfectly normal. Just remember, Oprah is incredibly skilled at making people feel comfortable. She doesn’t look to trap people or back them into a corner, she’s looking for the heart of the things that are important. Be yourselves, and you'll do great."

As if on cue, there's another commotion at the front door. This time, it's unmistakably Oprah's arrival. The energy in the house shifts instantly, a palpable excitement filling the air.

You take a deep breath, reaching for Steve's hand once more. Pepper gives you both an encouraging nod as you move towards the entryway to greet your guest.

And there she is - Oprah Winfrey, larger than life and yet somehow exactly as warm and approachable as she appears on screen. Her presence fills the room, commanding attention without even trying.

"Good morning!" Oprah greets you both with a dazzling smile, extending her hand. "It's wonderful to finally meet you in person."

Steve steps forward first, extending his hand. "Ms. Winfrey, it's an honor. Thank you for coming."

"Please, call me Oprah," she says, shaking Steve's hand warmly before turning to you. "And you must be Mrs. Rogers. I've been looking forward to getting to know you."

next part: BROOKLYN - THE INTERVIEW

I am sure we didn't find out everything you wanted to about your wedding, but... I had to leave something for Oprah! 🤭

THE UNSUNG HERO OF THIS CHAPTER IS @stargazingfangirl18!!! I was feeling very strung up with some of the ideas that I had intended for this story's plot coming up against some of the ideas that have developed as the chapters have been written, and she helped me get things sorted and to a place where I'm incredibly excited again!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

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gestures & rain checks

See my full list of works here!

pre-story author's note: Yes I am very aware that it's been a solid month since Valentine's Day. Yes I am still posting this 🫡

Summary: It feels like your friends are getting plucked away from you one by one as their respective (or in Nat's case prospective) partners make grand gestures to ask them to be their Valentine.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warning/s: language (nope still not sorry, Rogers); mentions of alcohol; tooth-rotting fluff; gun use [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Morgan being a precious beb; himbo!Thor hours; lowkey sad Reader hours; chaotic group chat vibes in the end

You always had a distaste for this day. Valentine's Day. To you, it was the one day a year that you would do everything in your power not to step outside because it reeked of flowers and chocolate marked up to the heavens for merchants to take advantage of last minute gift shoppers hoping to make a gesture big enough that their crush would let them score at the end of the night. Or guys buying extravagant and ridiculously large arrangements to make amends for wronging their partner as if a 10-foot tall teddy bear was gonna magically press some Undo button of him going on Hinge or Tinder and talking up a dozen other girls on the side.

There was one year that you let slip around Nat and Wanda that this day "smelled like a cemetery" with all the bouquets that bombarded you the second you exited the perimeter of the Compound. Hell, the second you left the main section that housed you and the rest of the Avengers. And you stood by that opinion stubbornly, mostly because you'd only ever witnessed flowers being given when someone was desperately trying to glue back together the pieces of a severely damaged relationship.

And also because no one had ever given you flowers in your entire life. Or chocolates. Or a teddy bear. All your past relationships were with men who were still mentally and emotionally boys that believed emojis and gifs sufficed and were as good as the real thing. Nary a single soul had ever actually spent a lick of time or effort to give you something that told you they deserved your time and effort in turn.

And after so many years of being barely an afterthought, the day just felt like this entity that you resented to an irrational degree, where all you wanted was to lay in bed and wait it out until the clock struck 12 and it was February 15th. Then you could go on a hunt for all the overpriced chocolate that suddenly got their prices slashed by 50% or more.

That was the plan again for this year, had it not been for both Nat and Wanda barging in to your apartment and practically dressing you up like you were their own life-sized definitely seen some better days Barbie doll. "Come on, we can go and have a Galentine's Day 2. Maybe hit up a club and get some free drinks…" the assassin trailed off, zipping up your dress and playfully swatting your ass to nudge you forward. "March on, soldier."

The common area was nearly bare and eerily quiet when you all got there, which made perfect sense considering that most of your teammates who were happily committed to someone were off spending their day together, probably executing their own personal twists on those cliched gestures of adoration. Knowing Tony, that would probably consist of a two-storey tall stuffed bunny or a lavish new vacation house as a nice private little getaway spot for him and Pepper when they wanted to have a date night.

Only Morgan and Shaun were at the big dining table by the kitchen, the little girl working on bracelets with the martial artist nursing a cup of coffee while he handed her beads to add to her work. "Whaddup, Ten Rings…Baby Stark," you greeted them, ruffling his hair and pressing a kiss to the top of your goddaughter's head. "What're you two up to this fine completely ordinary day?"

"Oof, I take it you're gonna be spending the day watching a bunch of couples be all extra lovey dovey just like me?" You threw him a look, squinting your eyes at him that had him throwing his hands in the air in surrender. "No need to mentally squish my head, Y/N, we're on the same side, I swear," he chuckled, scooting over to the other seat so you could sit next to Morgan. "How about this, karaoke later tonight? Just us and anyone else that doesn't have a date with dinner and co--" You swatted his arm to get him to stop talking, not so subtly signaling in the little girl's direction. "I mean…adult balloons?"

"Wait how come you have special balloons?" Morgan asked, looking up from her activity book and earning barely stifled chortles from both Nat and Wanda. "Why can't I play with them? I like balloons."

You leaned back in your seat, making a motion with your hands as if you were wiping them clean of the whole conversation. "I'm not helping you out of this one, buddy."

He scratched the back of his head, obviously backed into the corner with his own words. "Eeeeeh…put a pin in that and ask me again when you can order a beer, Baby Stark."

The child pouted at both of you, slumping down in her place at the table and slipping back on her princess pink headphones before focusing all her attention on her activity book again, grumbling something about how grownups shouldn't have conversations around her if they didn't want her to ask questions. Valid enough point, but you still weren't going to be the one to give her her first lesson in Sex Ed class a good decade ahead of time.

"Anyways…" Shaun poked at your side, calling your attention back to him. "Karaoke, ladies? We can pick up Katy and Wong before we head over and sing some Disney duets and gorging ourselves on shots and nachos--"

"Hold up, Wong?" You all turned your attention to Stephen, who'd just walked in to the common area. "This I gotta see. You guys have room for one more?"

"Sure thing, as long as you use your sling ring to help us get into Tony's private stash," you quipped, taking a sip of your coffee. "There's no way I'm getting through this day stone-cold sober."

"Or we could go for the really hard stuff and break into Thor's stash of mead from Asgard before he depletes his supply." He showcased the ring in question with a wiggle of his fingers. "Just a portal away."

"I like the way you think, Strange."

"You can all cease your scheming to pilfer my liquor, my friends," Thor's voice boomed into the area, a bounce in his step as he made his way to the coffee pot. "I would happily supply you all with two barrels if that would be enough for your gathering?"

"That's perfect, Thunder. Thanks." You started to tuck into the breakfast plate served by the Compound kitchen staff, mumbling your next question to the blond god. "What've you got planned with Jane for today?"

"Ah." A wide grin stretched across his face at the mention of his girlfriend, the sight both warming your heart and pinching it at the same time. A bittersweet reminder that in the midst of romantic plans with sentimental or grand gestures, your plans involved getting shit-faced with your fellow single friends. Plus Wanda and probably Vision. "Well, I have employed the aid of Wilson to order an ornate bouquet of Jane's favorite flowers which should arrive this morning. Then for lunch I shall prepare her a meal."

"Lunch?" Wanda questioned, tilting her head to the side. "Forgive me if I overstep, my friend, but aren't the romantic plans usually made for dinner?"

"Well, yes…but Jane has graciously agreed to adjusting our schedule for this day so that I may spend the time after lunch aiding my brother in a gesture of his own." A lump formed in your throat at the words. "It seems he wishes to get into the spirit of the holiday, and I am simply ecstatic that he came to me asking for a helping hand."

"I asked nothing of you, you over-muscled oaf," you heard the raven-haired god call out from the main entrance, two large packages hovering a few inches above the ground blanketed with a glow of green from his magic. "You volunteered when you imposed yourself in my space and hovered over my phone."

"Pfft, semantics," Thor waved off, already making his way over to Loki so that he could do some more apparently unnecessary volunteer work. "Are the flowers in one of your parcels?"

"I like flowers!" Morgan chirped from her seat, bouncing in place with bright excited eyes. "Prince Loki, can I help? Please?"

He let out an exaggerated sigh, a trace of a fond, amused smile betraying his facade. "Very well, little Stark. Come along."

Your goddaughter squealed, skipping over to Thor and placing her tiny hand in his. "Uncle Barbie, tell me who his princess is?" He leaned down to whisper the answer in her ear, making her sprint in place with even more excitement. "I promise I won't say a word."

"Barbie? Like your doll, little Lady Stark?" You could practically see the wheels turning in Loki's head from learning about the nickname.

Morgan nodded her head vigorously. "Auntie Y/N came up with it. She calls him Macho Barbie." She proceeded to talk about how you came to give the blond Asgardian the nickname that bizarrely stuck to him more than "Point Break" ever did, said god looking like he already dreaded the coming days -- maybe even years -- now that his brother knew that little tidbit of information.

Once they'd all made their way up the stairs and you could no longer hear the little girl's chipper tone, realization sat heavy in your heart from her reaction to whatever Thor whispered to her just a few seconds ago. Whoever it was that Loki was going to make this grand gesture for, it was someone that Morgan knew enough to the point that she couldn't contain her excitement finding out who the woman was.

It was someone in SHIELD. Maybe even someone in the Compound.

"You good, Babes?" Nat's tone was cautious, approaching you like you were a wounded animal, teeth bared and ready to pounce if she so much as breathed wrong.

You answered with a terse nod of your head. "There is absolutely no fucking way I'm getting through today sober."

"Y/N, dude, I'm sor--"

Bang

"What the fuck?" All eyes grew wide at the sound, your body stiffening as another shot rang out, reverberating throughout the common area. "FRIDAY? Threat assessment," you called out, already readying yourself for combat once whoever was outside made their way to you in the compound.

"No threats have been detected," the AI answered simply. "There seems to be no living target for the gunman."

You could only manage to repeat your words. "What the fuck?" Shot after shot rang out, an interval of three to five seconds between them. Each deafening bang making you flinch, your head spinning with possible explanations on why FRIDAY didn't deem the supposed attacker as a threat. "Where's the target then?"

"Shots are being fired at the training area, by the track field, Agent Y/L/N." You all started to make your way to the area, everyone still on high alert despite FRIDAY's findings.

"Y/N?!" You shared a look with everyone else in the room at the sound of Loki's voice calling out for you, the god looking frantic as he appeared at the top of the main staircase, a sigh of relief escaping him once he saw you standing at the bottom. "You're alright," he exhaled, hurriedly making his way down. The quickening pace of the gunshots had him squaring his shoulders, stepping in front of you and marching toward the sound.

"We've handled way worse than gunfire, Laufeyson, you don't have to lead the defense," you told him with a touch more bite to your tone than you intended, irrational jealousy coursing through you knowing what he was preparing for before he started charging down the stairs. You sidestepped him and started walking toward the training area, brows furrowing together when you saw that from where you stood, the marks from the bullets digging into the ground where forming some sort of shape.

"It's a message…" Wanda mused, angling her head to and fro to see if she could get the whole picture from the ground. "I'm going up, I wanna see what's worth risking Pepper's wrath with all the lawn work she has to commission now." She held her hand out to you, wordlessly offering to take you up with her, an offer that you gladly took, clapping your hand over hers, both of you giggling as your feet lifted off the ground.

Once you two had risen high enough, it was clear what the message was. The shots had been positioned so that the markings would take on the shape of a heart, and the ongoing shots were creating initials. "N…" you read along, barely able to contain your excitement when you saw that the next letter was an R. "Natasha Romanoff!" you yelled out, the assassin's eyes lighting up with a mix of giddiness and curiosity as she tried to look at where the gunshots could've been coming from.

You did your best to turn your head, trying to see who was behind the gesture, kicking your feet in the air once you saw the gunman. "What? Who is it, Y/N?"

"It's Barnes," you squeaked, giving Rogers a reckless wave when you caught sight of him jogging toward all of you with a megaphone in hand.

"Natasha Romanoff," Bucky's voice boomed through the speaker system, making the usually cool and collected former Russian spy put a hand over her mouth to hide the way she was steadily turning pink from how flustered she was. "I know I have a long way to go to make up for how we first met, but I think you're swell and I'd like to try starting it off with maybe dinner tonight?" Both you and Wanda squealed and held each other tight mid-air watching her nod her answer, running over to her once your feet touched the ground again.

"You two won't be pissed if I take a rain check for tonight, will you?" she cautioned, still a wistful tone in her voice from processing what was happening.

"Absolutely not, you go enjoy your date. More drinks to go around and all that," you told her with the biggest smile. "But tomorrow night we're all staying at my place and you're giving us a full report."

"And remember to wear the red lacy underwear," Wanda teased with a comical wiggle of her eyebrows, earning her a poke to the ribs from both of you.

Nat pulled away from the two of you, walking back toward the indoor gym with Steve walking alongside her, starting to talk about how his best friend had been trying to work up the nerve to ask her out since he got sworn in to the team nearly a year ago. From the sound of the conversation, it seemed that Rogers was divulging some information that Barnes probably swore him to secrecy not so long ago.

"And then there were seven," Shaun spoke up, walking toward  you and the sorceress and clapping a hand on each of your shoulders. "Thor came through and left the barrels in the kitchen for us."

You were about to start talking about the food arrangements when the sight of Wanda's husband flying toward you all with a bouquet of camellias and hydrangeas in his hand. "Wanda, my love, I owe you my deepest apologies."

"Whatever for, Vis?" She broke away from you and Shaun to greet the synthezoid, placing her hands on his upper arms as he pulled her in for a chaste kiss.

"It did not occur to me that you might have wanted to make plans for today until Mr Stark had gone into detail of his own itinerary today for his wife," he explained, handing her the bouquet. "Unfortunately I cannot procure a reservation for us tonight, but I still wish to do something for you. Would you allow me the honor of making you a meal and perhaps watching a movie in the private theater?"

You and Shaun gripped each other's hands like you were high schoolers watching their best friend get asked out on their first big date, shaking and pushing each other over the sweetness of the gesture. "I don't need fancy restaurants or pretty flowers, Vis. Getting to spend time with you, especially after everything that's happened to us, is more than enough. I just need you."

The Sokovian turned back to face you and Shaun, a touch of guilt in her expression. "Rain check? I'll bring extra snacks tomorrow night to make up for it?"

"Don't worry about it, Babes," you reassured her, both you and the martial artist waving off her worries. "Enjoy your evening."

The couple have you a curt nod and a smile before happily flying away hand in hand back to their apartment.

"And then there were five," you and Shaun said in unison, walking back to the common area to load up those barrels that Thor left for tonight's 'festivities'. When you got to the kitchen area, Morgan was adorably sitting atop one of the barrels in question, feet happily swinging in the air with a big smile on her face.

"Off the goods, little Stark, we're not risking you getting drunk your dad's gonna kill us," Shaun said in a panic, already lifting the little girl up and off the barrel and making her squeal and giggle as she giddily exclaimed "I'm flying!".

"If you really think that she can get drunk from osmosis, we have a lot to talk about, sweet little summer child," you joked, walking up to one barrel and starting to push it toward the garage. "Think you can use that ancient mystical ring magic for makeshift wheels so we don't bust out our lungs lugging this all the way to your truck?"

"I can assist you, darling." Your skin bristled at the sound of Loki's voice, taking every ounce of strength you had to not stiffen or recoil at his use of the word. He was only saying it out of habit. Probably a remnant of his upbringing as a prince on Asgard.

He didn't mean it the way you wanted -- more than anything -- for him to mean it.

"No need, Laufeyson, I've got it from here," Strange butted in, conjuring an energy shield with his magic that he slid under the barrels, starting to wheel them toward the garage. "Carry on. Oh and friendly advice, man to god? Your future girlfriend, you know, the one you're making this big gesture for? She might not appreciate you calling other women 'darling', so I highly recommend kicking the habit while it's still early. Avoiding future battles and all."

The god sucked his teeth, the action causing his jaw to clench and sending your thoughts someplace they had no business being. You had no business thinking about another woman's man that way, no matter how hot he was.

"I will remember that. Thank you, Strange," he said softly, making his way back up the stairs.

"Thanks for the save," you muttered, opening the door to the garage for the sorcerer to guide the barrels through. "Don't think I could've gotten away with being on Bitch Mode with him a second time today. Not like I can help it, though. Some lucky Midgardian bitch is gonna be his by the end of the night."

"Pretty sure you're the only woman I know that considers being Laufeyson's girlfriend a good thing."

"Yeah, Y/N, like I know he's on our side and everything but most days he still has me on edge. Like passing him on a bad day's gonna get me a stab in the ribs, not a death glare like normal people," Shaun concurred, nudging your shoulder to hopefully stop your lamenting before you got in too deep. Again.

"I'm really down bad, huh," you sighed, letting out a little yip when a portal to the dark dimension appeared just a few feet in front of you. "The fuck--"

"Hey Strange," a reverberating ethereal voice called out from the portal, and then a tall woman with platinum hair with beauty that you could only describe as 'dark celestial' stepped out. Her eyes trained on the sorcerer next to you. "Heard that today's something of a holiday in this dimension. Figured it might be a good idea to stop by and maybe you could show me around your uh…" She turned to you and Shaun, both your jaws slack on the ground. "What's this place called again?"

"Avengers Compound?" Shaun said at the same time that you blurted out, "New York?"

"Compound York?" She raised an eyebrow at the two of you, amusement coloring her face as she gave you both a once over.

"Eherm…no," you answered her, chuckling nervously and shifting your weight between your feet. "This structure here is Avengers Compound, which is in Upstate New York. New York is a city, but also a region…and a state…?" you drifted off, already feeling a pinch in your head from trying to explain the best you could. You looked over to Shaun. "The more I try finding the words to explain, the more I realize how complicated it actually is. Save me."

Stephen stepped forward. "How about I just take you on a tour around New York, then?" His face stretched out into a wide grin, clearly unable to hide his giddiness over the knowledge that she crossed dimensions to be with him today.

"Is that…New York the city, the region, or the state?"

"The city. New York, New York. There's a whole song about it and everything I can play it for you in the car." He proceeded to drape his arm around the dark sorceress, leading her to his car further down the expansive garage.

"Your little human friend is right, things here are complicated. Downright confusing." She looked back at you and Shaun again as they walked away, hand in hand. "It was nice meeting you both! Stephen speaks highly of you all," she called out, her majestic voice echoing throughout the area.

"You're really pretty!" you blurted out in response, causing her voice to melt into a chuckle, telling her partner how she found you 'adorable'. You threw your head back and groaned toward the ceiling. "I'm a fucking dork."

"At least you're an adorable dork," Shaun shot back, nudging your shoulder and lightly touching the back of your head to get you facing forward again. His phone chimed with a text notification. "Katy. Her shift's over, she said she'll get us a room for eight. I'm texting her now to get a smaller one." He held up his hand, palm facing you. "And then there were four?"

You sighed, clapping your hand against his, your friend giving you a reassuring squeeze once you did. "And then there were four." You jerked your head toward the apartments. "I'll just go change into something that involves 'eating pants' and I'll meet you down here in ten."

The walk back up to your apartment wasn't that long, but it still felt like it with how quickly you slipped back into your lamenting over how your friends had such an eventful day today. Nat had her very public grand gesture. Wanda had her husband trying to cook human food in the name of spending time with her. Strange had his girlfriend literally rip a hole between dimensions to get here.

"And all I have waiting for me are two barrels of mead and karaoke microphones," you muttered, walking through your front door and begrudgingly unzipping your dress from the back. You were just about to half-stomp your way to your closet when something on your bed caught your eye.

Three shiny roses lined with gold, tied together with a gold ribbon at the foot of the bed. A large heart-shaped box of chocolates at the center. And a little teddy bear dressed as a bee with red antennas that had hearts at the end, at its fluffy little feet was an embroidered message. "Bee mine".

"What theeeee fu--"

"Y/N," an all too familiar voice called out from behind you. The air left your lungs at the sight of Loki in a form-fitting forest green button-down tucked into onyx black slacks, tucking his hair behind his ears before smoothing his hands over his shirt. "You're early--"

"What're you doing--Was this you?" you babbled, gesturing at the gifts on your bed. For a second, your heart beat erratically, the thought that maybe this was for you, before reality and logic sunk in. "Okay I think I know what's happening…"

"You do?"

"Yeah, you got the wrong apartment. Gimme a minute to change and I can help you move all this over to--"

The rest of your words died in a little squeak at the back of your throat, the god closing the distance between you two with a few long strides, framing your face in his hands and placing a tender fleeting kiss to your lips.

"Those tokens of my affection are exactly where they belong, little mortal," he murmured against you, tracing up the bridge of your nose with his lips until he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As am I."

You let out a shaky breath, fighting against the urge to melt in the god's embrace as he snaked his hands around your waist. "The gesture your brother mentioned this morning…this?" He proceeded to press kisses down the side of your face, his warm exhale as he whispered 'yes' into your skin making you light-headed. "This is for me?" you gasped out, whatever was remaining of your logical brain smacking the rest of you with how stupid a question that was.

"Who else would it be for, darling?" He pressed a kiss to your jaw, tightening his arms around you and pressing your body against his. "There is no other in this or any other Realm that could have captured my heart so completely." He kissed the corner of your jaw, making his way down the side of your neck, holding you tighter to keep you up when your knees finally buckled from the sensation. "I did this for you, because I wish to ask something of you. That you become mine as much as I am yours."

"M-Mine?" you stammered. "Y-You're mine?" Since when? How come you didn't get this particular memo? Could've saved you a lot of turmoil and nights spent alone staring up at the ceiling trying and failing to hypnotize yourself out of being into him.

He kissed the tip of your nose, resting his forehead against yours. "I have always been yours, darling."

Your hands traveled up the length of his arms, like you were grounding yourself and trying to tell yourself that this was real. He was really here and he was telling you the words you wanted more than anything to hear for who even knew how long at this point.

He's here, you thought to yourself. And he's mine.

There was only one word that you could muster up in that moment. "Yes." I've always been yours, too.

Karaoke Dreamin' on Such a Winter's Day group chat

myfirstnameisagent: Don't kill me but…rain check?

busboy10: Are you kidding me, Y/N?? You said you'd be down in 5 minutes tops and we're gonna meet up with Katy.

nromanoff: Sweet, now you're gonna have a story to tell tomorrow night, too.

myfirstnameisagent: Actually about that…rain check on tomorrow night, too? I'm kinda not there right now…

busboy10: There?? What do you mean "There"?? How'd you get out the Compound without me seeing you? Or whoever the hot date you're ditching me for is?

imjustwong: Where is everybody? We ordered nachos.

myfirstnameisagent: Yeah…I'm not in the Compound…or in New York…any of the "New York"s. Might not be for the next week. Maybe more. The three of you better not drink all the mead in one go.

busboy10: ??????

thevision: Agent Y/L/N, my wife is showing many signs of distress over her inability to contact you. Your phone seems to be going straight to voicemail.

thewanda: Y/N WHERE ARE YOU I HEARD A BANG FROM YOUR APARTMENT ARE YOU OKAY??

myfirstnameisagent: Babes, I'm fine. That was just the Bifrost.

thewanda: EXCUSE ME??

nromanoff: BABES WHAT--

pointbreakbarbie: My friends, I heard the Bifrost be summoned near Lady Y/N's abode. Is there an emergency? Must I make my way to Asgard to assist?

myfirstnameisagent: Thor your brother said if he finds you here I have permission to stab you, don't even fucking think about it.

thewanda: I REPEAT. EXCUSE ME???

busboy10: Y/N are you in Asgard?? With Loki??

myfirstnameisagent: Yes. And yes. See you in two weeks.

thewanda: He better use that healing magic on your legs so you don't walk funny.

A/N: It took me a whole month to write this because real life was trying TKO me in the work department and also I got sucked in to the worlds of Hello Kitty Island Adventure, Disney Dreamlight Valley, and Delicious World and I've been too weak to even attempt time management 🤣

I'm working on stuff tho I swear it 🫡 Horny bitches cuts are in progress, stories are in progress…lots of progress 😅😅

Also for reference, this was the lil stuffed bear that Loki gave Reader:

and the roses looked like this:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears

[lusmeitli]

Where light in darkness lies

Summary: How helping with a panic attack can lead to something more.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Panic attack, a hint of angst, fluff, a bit of fingering.

A/N: There aren’t a lot of explanations given. I have also taken a great deal of liberties to bend characters at my will.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The kettle seemed to take forever. Wasn’t there a saying… a watched pot never boils? Apparently, it applied to kettles, too. As the appliance imitated sounds of an imminent blast off, you poked the tea bag at the bottom of the mug with the spoon from one side to another, then clockwi–

Suddenly, everything was plunged into darkness.

“Curses.”

You stretched your hand out to hold onto the kitchen counter for something… tactile. Grounding. Darkness was your foe.

The familiar fireball under your skin licked up your back and across your chest. Its heat seemed to suffocate you. Breaths came out faster, shallower, harsher. Fumbling to try and find your phone on the counter your hands knocked something over. It shattered on the floor. The mug.

Not enough air. You just couldn’t get enough air into your lungs. The only sounds you heard was the pounding beat of your heart and the ringing in your ears. The panic rose up like a monster looming in front of you, a cruel smirk on its face, before it would open its horrifying hellmouth and swallow you whole.

And then you felt hands on you, whirling you around. Soft lips firmly pressed onto yours, moving with purpose and absolutely no hesitation. Its spark set a fuse alight, burning through your body until it reached your brain, sending a shockwave through you. It took your body a long moment to snap out of your onsetting panic attack and to respond to the kiss. You nearly sobbed into the lips, at the distraction and relief they provided, your hands fisting in a shirt, warm skin and contracting muscles under your fingers.

The heat you had felt moments before was gone. In its stead grew an all consuming need. A soft moan escaped somewhere from the back of your throat. It broke the spell. You heard the person kissing you take in a shaky breath, before their lips left yours and it was over. Several moments later the lights flickered back on. You stood rooted to the spot, staring at the empty space in front of you and the broken mug on the floor.

Your fingertips ghosted over the spot where lips had touched yours and a blush crept over your cheeks. In the corner the kettle clicked, the water now boiled.

*****

“Loki?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you sure it was him? I mean how can you tell?”

You brought a hand over the receiver, trying to shield the words so only your friend could hear.

“I, um, hacked into the security camera footage from just before the power cut. He had walked into the kitchen literally a second before it happened.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then a heavy breath. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. Ain’t that something.”

“You’re right,” you huffed out, “I mean, this is me we’re talking about, right?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“But it is though, isn’t it,” you said, rubbing your tired eyes. “It’s just little old me. Even if it really was him, it probably just was some silly prank or a dare.”

*****

The Quinjet in the hangar was your favourite place to work. Even though today you were in the tail of the jet downloading the aircraft log from the Flight Data Recorder, which involved squeezing into a rather tight space. All that to plug in the USB cable and to then balance the laptop on the palm of your right hand, whilst operating it with the left. You had tried to talk to Tony about moving the access point, seeing as it was a weekly task, but Pepper had walked past and diverted his attention. Judging by the way he immediately stalked after her, he hadn’t heard a word you said.

Thirty-seven percent through the download, the power in the jet cut out and you cursed. Setting the laptop down, you fumbled for your phone, turned on the torch and made your way through the jet to inspect the fuse box you knew was located just outside the cockpit. No light came in from the hangar, which seemed odd. Maybe it was another power outage that affected the whole tower. You tripped and the phone slipped from your grasp, landing somewhere face up.

“Not again…”

The panic started to rise in you once more. You felt too hot, the air seemed stuffy and heavy. Your breath came out fast and ragged. Hands outstretched, you bumped into something hard. Something that shouldn’t be there. You gulped as hot dread shot through your veins and took a step back. With lightning speed slender fingers wrapped around your wrists, tugging you forward to bring you flush against the hard body. Instead of consuming you, the panic ebbed off. Your body knew this touch. Though firm, it meant no harm.

You felt their chest rise and fall, a lot slower than yours. Slender fingers trailed up your arm, over your shoulder and neck. His fingertips skirted over the skin of your throat, goosebumps erupted all over your body. Someone released a slow breath - presumably you.

The fingers moved into your hair and curled around the base of your head, tilting it up. And then those wonderful lips were on yours again. This time, he angled your head to deepen the kiss. The taste and feel of his tongue moving against yours robbed you of your bones and you faltered, glad that his hands held you pressed so tightly up against him. He seemed hungry, needy. His lips left yours, trailing a few kisses over your jaw, before he rested his forehead against yours, noses touching for a wonderful moment, your short breaths mixing.

And then he was gone again. Your hands fell to your side and you blinked against the bright light in the jet that hummed over your head. Yet again you were left wondering what had just happened and, more importantly, why.

*****

“It only affected the hangar this time.” You pulled a book off the shelf in the shop.

“More hacking?” your best friend asked, finger searchingly running over the spines.

Shaking your head, you thumbed through the pages. “My coworkers told me.”

“So you’re saying he did it on purpose?”

Shrugging, you put the book back. “He knows magic, that’s what I’m saying.”

“Honey, I love you, but before you go down that obsession-rabbit hole, it’s my duty as your bestie to warn you. Just please be careful. This is Loki after all. Hm, where is it?”

“Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

The pitying look in your friend’s eyes was almost too much. “Oh where to start… He’s a god, immortal and several centuries older than you,” she counted off on her fingers.

“Actually,” you mumbled, “he is mortal. Asgardians just have a longer life span of about 5,000 years.”

Your friend blinked, surprised. “Who told you that? Dr Google?”

“Thor, actually. He had to fill in a form for the Quinjet learner’s licence and we joked about his age.”

“I love you, but you’re weird. Happy rabbit hunting then.” A victory cry fell from your friend’s lips as she pulled out what she was looking for and pushed it into your hands. “You want spicy? Here you go.”

“‘Three Swedish Mountain Men’?” you read.

She wiggled her brows. “They’re hot and they like sharing…”

You rolled your eyes, but put it on the pile of books you were getting anyway.

*****

Late shifts were your favourite, because it allowed you to actually get work done, without the phone going off every other minute. The only thing you didn’t like about them was walking back to your room afterwards.

It was 3am when the lift doors slid open and your shoes softly squeaked on the dimly lit corridor. Nightlighting mode, as Tony called it. You hated it and walked faster. Rubbing your stiff neck and rolling your shoulders, you rounded the corner. Just a few more metres to your door. But someone grabbed your hand and pulled you into the refuse room, which was pitch black.

Cool fingers were placed on your lips signalling you not to make a sound.

You nodded your head and the fingers moved from your lips, slowly, tracing. Then both hands were in your hair. His fingers cupped your head and you felt his breath against your lips. Your hands were on his chest, gripping the front of his t-shirt. Soft cotton. You closed your eyes.

“Please,” you said so quietly you thought he didn’t hear.

But he had and his lips brushed against yours, light as a feather. Your head was swimming, your heart aching. His touch was soft and gentle. He had kissed you before, but it was as if he was now seeing you, in the darkness of the refuse room, for the first time. Taking you in, kissing every inch of skin that was exposed. His lips grazed the knuckles on your hand and a lump formed in your throat.

His hands cupped your head and you felt his fingers fiddle with your hair bobble, before the restraint was gone and your hair hung loose. His hands combed through the strands. You couldn’t remember the last time someone did that.

Your hands ran over his biceps, his shoulders, his pecs, his abs. You wished you could say something, anything, but you feared you’d spoil the moment, that he’d pull away. His lips found yours again and he angled his head, his tongue slowly dancing with yours. It was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced.

He changed his footing to come at you from a different angle, pressing his body flush against yours. He peppered small kisses on the corner of your mouth and down your throat. He seemed to have found a spot he liked, because he sucked on it, his teeth grazing, lips easing the light bite. Before he pulled away, he inhaled deeply at the crown of your head, and placed a gentle kiss on your hair. You felt safe, basking in his warmth. And like the times before, he was gone.

By the time your legs felt stable enough to support you again, you opened the door and walked back to your room.

A smile crossed your lips as you realised that this was the first time you hadn’t panicked in the dark.

*****

“Maybe he’s shy?” your bestie suggested as you sat on her couch, both spooning ice cream out of the same tub.

Loki and shy were not words you would have put in a sentence together. But then, sometimes you were wondering if his aloof stance was just for show.

“Have you tried talking to him?” she asked.

You shook your head. “I could never work up the nerve. He seems… so unapproachable in the light of day. Maybe it all really is an elaborate prank.”

“Or,” your friend leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “or he has the hots for you and just can’t find any other way to show it.”

You mulled this over for a while. “But why in the dark? Why isn’t he saying anything ever?”

“When do you see him?”

“At extended team briefings, but the Avengers come in last and sit at the front. Rogers requested it.”

Your friend rolled her eyes. “Any other time?”

“Well, in the hallways, but either he’s with someone or I am.”

“Meh. Where else?”

You leaned back, thinking. “In the canteen?”

“Okay, now we’re talking.”

“But, again, he’s always with someone.”

“Well… looks like you’re screwed.” She made a show of licking her spoon. “Or about to be screwed.”

She laughed as you threw a pillow in her face.

*****

It was just an autumn storm. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for that it was five in the morning and had been going all night. You were standing by the window, looking out onto the soft glow of the city that never slept. Angry gusts of wind whipped big raindrops against the windowpane. Your breath misted against the cool glass. Normally, you slept through storms, but not this one.

The team had yet to return from a mission and you were worried sick. The mission was particularly perilous. You knew this because Tony had called you into his office, shut the door (something he never had done before) and told you that he couldn’t give you any information, but that ‘some serious shit is going to go down tonight’ and to trust - dramatic pause - him. It all was accompanied by a stare with which Tony seemed to try to convey a secret message. You guessed he didn’t mean himself, but Loki. Hence, you had chewed off all your nails for the last few hours.

When the door to your room opened, closed and footsteps approached, relief flooded through you. Not a moment later his hands were on your waist, pulling you back into his chest, his presence seeping through your pores. His arms curled around you, the slightly damp leather of his suit softly creaking, and your hands flew up to grip his forearms tightly. His head nestled in the crook of your neck, his lips soft against your skin.

“Thank heavens,” you whispered.

You couldn’t remember who moved first, but you found yourself up against the wall, his hands on your ass. Your legs wrapped around his hips that pushed into you; his mouth felt hot on yours. The kiss was all teeth and tongues. Desperation mixed with relief. A moan rang through the room - definitely yours - as you offered yourself up to him. And he took, greedily. His hands were everywhere on your body, pulling you close, pushing more into you, closer still. A disgruntled huff made it clear it wasn’t enough. And then his hands were under your hoodie, bare skin touching bare skin. A tug, a pull and the fabric was up and over your head, landing somewhere on the floor. His lips closed around your lace covered breast until he found your nipple and sucked on it.

Your hands weaved through his damp hair - if you had any fingernails left, they’d be scraping his scalp. Instead you tugged gently on the soft strands, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hips rolled into yours, his desire evident and yours dampening your knickers. His hand slipped into your leggins, his fingers moving over the globe of your ass, slowly, squeezing, as his mouth was plundering yours.

The moment his fingers found your soaking centre, you both groaned. He slid two digits inside you, making you gasp. His hips rocked into you, the leather seams on his crotch providing friction for your clit. Your hands tried to fist in the leather, to get to feel his skin.

The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, taking you by surprise, propelling you into oblivion. Loki grunted, his movements became jerky, before he stilled and rested his damp forehead against the crook of your neck. His hot breath puffed against your skin, and he just stayed like that, letting you run your fingers through his hair in a comforting rhythm. Then he slid his fingers out of you and gently placed your feet back on the ground. His forearm leaned against the wall behind you as he kissed you thoroughly, with a gentleness that made your eyes sting with unshed tears.

Your thoughts were going a mile a minute and you were thinking of what to do or say now. Would he stay the night or would he vanish again, like always? You heard the soft creaking of his boots as he moved through the dark room and then back to you, handing you your hoodie. You took it, fingers brushing his. The moment you pulled it over your head, your bedside light was on and you found yourself alone.

Again.

*****

The APU of the Quinjet was situated - as in most aeroplanes - in the tail. One of the reasons you were in charge of the upgrade of the jet’s internal bleed ducting was that you were small and slim. None of your co-workers could squeeze in there (thank you, Tony, for prioritising sleekness over practicality). Ironically, there was no air conditioning in this part of the jet. Droplets of sweat gathered on your forehead as you lay under the engine with your torch and toolkit, religiously running through the protocols.

“Five more checks, Y/N,” you heard your colleague, peering down at you from the moveable steps he was standing on, holding up the upper engine encasing with another work mate. A whistling noise became louder. “Then we can test– what the hell?!”

You lifted your head just as a massive explosion tore through the hangar. The space where your co-workers had been a second ago was swallowed up by a fireball. It felt as if the jet was airborne, tossed to the side, then came to a sudden stop. Metal screeched and groaned.

Your head hurt. A lot. There was a ringing in your ears and you just couldn’t see anything. It was dark, so dark. You wriggled backwards but to your horror realised that you were stuck, trapped between the engine and the jet wall. It felt like you were burning up and you tried to shout, scream for help, but you couldn’t get air in your lungs, no matter how hard you tried. Then, mercifully, you fainted.

When you came to, you were in the medical bay. It looked like a war zone, people lying or sitting on the floor, waiting to be seen. Some of them with burns and cuts, others in the bays next to you with drips and field surgeons around them. You spotted your two work mates, both with minor burns and a few bruises, but thankfully alive.

A few stitches on your forehead, one arm plaster casted and in a sling, and a packet of painkillers thrust in your good hand by a disgruntled, stressed out medic later, you limped your way out of there. Anything was better than sitting around in the sick bay, where there were people who were much more in need of a bed than you were. It also helped with getting away from the sight of the body bags that were quietly carried past you. Six, you had counted. The biggest attack on the Avengers Tower so far, people murmured. And the deadliest one.

In front of the debriefing room, you were handed a tablet and sat down. It was standard protocol after an incident like this: you filled in your report and then talked it through with your supervisor. End of. So you filled in the boxes and waited outside Tony’s office for your turn. As you walked in and sat down, he looked at you.

“You okay, Y/N?”

You gave a brief nod. He blinked and then tapped a few keys on his phone, before taking the tablet you held out to him.

“Let’s get this over with.”

In the middle of your interview, the door suddenly burst open. A very out of breath Asgardian god almost stumbled over the threshold, a stony expression on his face. He was like a vision from your dreams, donning his leather suit, covered in dust and blood - not his.

His eyes roamed over you as he stood in the doorway, lingering on your arm in the sling and the stitches on your face for a moment. Then his eyes met yours. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t looked into one another’s eyes before, but this felt different. Intimate.

In four strides he was next to your chair. He stretched out his hand and you placed yours in his, as if it was a practised gesture between you two. A gentle tug had you standing up.

“Loki…,” you started.

“I thought you were dead, love,” he murmured, voice rough, lifting your good hand to his lips to ghost a kiss onto your scratched knuckles. Your insides melted at the endearment and his gesture.

“I give you a thousand thanks, Stark,” he addressed the other man, eyes never leaving yours, “for alerting me that my beloved is okay and with you. However, Agent Y/L/N will have to finish the incident debrief at a later point. I require her presence for an extremely urgent personal matter.”

“Get outta here already, Shakespeare,” Tony grumbled, trying to hide a smirk. “Who’s next?”

But Loki didn’t pay him any heed. He gently cradled your face, his thumbs caressing your skin.

And there, right in front of Tony, with the door wide open for everyone in the very busy hallway to see, right there was the very first time that Loki kissed you in the daylight.

~fin~

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Like a moth to a flame

A/N: You and Tony have separated for three months now, raising your five year old daughter Emily as co-parents. This is heavily inspired from something I read recently. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed reading!

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ angst, infidelity, some fluff. Nobody’s perfect!

Word count: 3.5k

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

“Did you have fun at Daddy’s?”

You chuckled at your daughter’s enthusiastic nodding as she grabbed your hand and skipped towards your car. Happy had waited for you outside with Emily while you dodged traffic to get to her, making you wonder where Tony was. Probably holed up in his lab? Maybe he was with her? The latter made your stomach drop at the mere thought. It should’ve stopped affecting you by now, right? Wrong.

While you secured Emily in her booster seat, she went on about the things she did during her weekend with her father. She usually spent every other weekend at the Stark Tower being utterly spoiled by her Dad. He didn’t get enough time with her and whatever little he did, he made sure to indulge her and how. You couldn’t complain though, he was a good father. If only he were a good husband, you thought…

“Pepper helped me with my drawing yesterday.”

Her statement made you halt your movements. He was bringing her home now? And with your daughter there? It angered you.

“What was she–I–I mean what did you draw baby?” you forced a smile on your face as you pulled out of the driveway, keeping your eyes on the road.

“The quinjet. And then we had pizzas. And ice-cream!” she exclaimed, fumbling around her little bag to show you what she had drawn. Even at five, she had already taken after her Dad, she was obsessed with his work, his suits, all the tech jargon which you didn’t understand. She had been a Daddy’s girl ever since she had been in your tummy.

Emily had talked your ear off the entire ride home while your mind was still stuck on the fact that Tony had the guts to bring her home. His mistress. The name made you cringe but that’s what she was. You would bring it up with him later, you thought. Bringing her in Emily’s life could lead to tons of questions that you didn’t want to answer. What did he even introduce her to Emily as? A friend? You scoffed at the thought, parking your vehicle in your garage before helping your daughter out with her bags.

You had been silent through dinner, occasionally nodding your head while your daughter spoke about her upcoming dance recital. Your mind was clouded with the thoughts of that fateful night when you walked in on your husband and found out your marriage was over.

Pressing a kiss against Emily’s forehead, you whispered good night before safely tucking her in and making your way out of her room with a smile on your face. FRIDAY announced Tony’s return from a business trip and you had found him in your en-suite hastily discarding his suit. He seemed jumpy when you approached him for a kiss.

“What’s wrong, Tony?” you frowned, noticing a red stain on his white under shirt. Was it lipstick?

Wordlessly, you had unbuttoned his shirt, fingers shaking with anger as your eyes landed on a prominent hickey marked on his shoulder. Was he hoping you wouldn’t notice it? As if right on cue, his phone that was on the counter buzzed with Pepper’s name flashing across the screen. It was a punch in your gut. Only the worst.

With guilt splashed all over his features, Tony walked out behind you as tears clouded your vision.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, Y/N. It was a mistake. I’m s–”

“You’re sorry?” you yelled, turning to look him in the eye while he lowered his gaze to the floor.

“You’re sorry for sleeping with her or you’re sorry that I found out? How long has this been going on, Tony? You know what? Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter.” you muttered, pushing past him to pack a suitcase with your things, not having a plan in mind but knowing you needed to get the hell away from him.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” he asked desperately trying to stop you.

“I don’t know. I can’t stay here.”

“Honey, please. We can talk about it, don’t go. Please!”

“You broke your vows, Anthony!” you screamed, brushing away hot tears that streamed down your cheeks as you resumed packing.

All of his attempts to stop you failed, you couldn’t believe what the day had turned into. In the morning Tony had promised to spend the entire weekend with his girls and now the day had ended with a cheating husband and a ruined marriage.

It took you a long time to be civil with him. Every time you looked at him, it reminded you of what he had done. Your heart broke all over again. You refused to speak about the incident, you couldn’t. Yet you couldn’t avoid him forever. Because you had a daughter to think about. A daughter who was concerned about her parents’ strange behavior towards each other. It was out of the blue for her. If only you had the ability to explain.

Three months ago, you separated from Tony, agreeing to make Emily’s life as normal as you possibly could. It took time, a lot of it, but eventually you came to terms with it. Well, almost. Tony was still the father of your child, he was still the man you had fallen madly in love with all those years ago. All that love doesn’t just disappear overnight, right?

“Mama?” you felt Emily tug on your arm, staring up at you with her big brown eyes she’d gotten from her Dad.

“Yes?”

“The story?” she pointed to the book you clutched tightly in your hands, waiting for her bedtime story like she did every night. Shaking your head, you snapped yourself out of it and began reading her the story she’d chosen, putting thoughts of your failed marriage on the backburner.

.

On Friday, you felt you were coming down with a flu. Aching muscles, chills and a stuffy nose, you were miserable and ready to sleep your way through the weekend. You were thankful Tony was coming to pick Emily up for the weekend, you didn’t want your daughter falling ill.

Emily jumped from the couch and ran towards the door the moment your doorbell rang, clearly excited about seeing her Dad after a couple of weeks. You were pleasantly surprised to see Rhodey accompanying your husband as they both greeted your daughter with matching smiles before turning to you.

“Y/N! My favourite Stark!” Rhodey chuckled, sticking his tongue out at Emily who giggled.

You were still a Stark. You never actually got to file for a divorce. Not that you wanted to. It was all too confusing. You still harbored feelings for Tony even though he broke your heart. Those feelings weren’t going anywhere, especially not when he was so good with you and Emily. Watching him interact with her always made you happy. Ever since you’d got together, you had wanted to raise kids with Tony. It had been a dream that turned into a reality the day you found out you were pregnant.

“Rhodey. What a pleasant surprise! I’d hug you but I don’t want to get you sick.” you smiled at your friend, giving Tony the same smile who had a look of concern on his face. Your nose was red and you looked pale, it worried him greatly.

“What happened, Y/N?” he asked, coming over to feel your forehead with the back of his hand, filling your nostrils with his familiar scent.

“Oh it’s just a cold, I’m sure. Nothing to worry about.” you dismissed, contemplating bringing up the Pepper incident from two weeks ago. You still hadn’t addressed it.

While you packed the last of Emily’s things in her bag, Tony knocked on the door of her room and cleared his throat.

“So, I asked Rhodey to take Em to the park. I’m gonna stay over to make you my magic soup.”

The tone of definiteness in his voice left little room for argument, knowing Tony he wouldn’t let up, so you agreed. It was thoughtful of him. It would give you two a chance to talk as well.

“Have fun with Uncle Rhodey and no sprinting out of sight, okay? Call me if you need anything, Rhodes.” you called out to the pair of them.

“I will. Feel better, Y/N.”

“Bye, Mama! Bye Daddy!”

You smiled as Tony blew her a kiss which she pretended to catch, a habit she had picked up watching the two of you, when you were together. That seemed a long time ago now, you thought sadly.

You felt nervous all of a sudden being alone with him, it wasn’t the first time but it was after a long time. Tony’s eyes landed on your t-shirt and a smile appeared on his lips.

“I knew you stole this.”

Looking down at his MIT t-shirt, you smiled back, it had been your favourite clothing to sleep in. You always wore it when you missed him a little extra, even after years of you stealing it, it still distinctly smelled of Tony Stark. Your Tony Stark.

“I can give it back.” you teased, but Tony shook his head.

“Looks better on you anyway.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies you felt at his statement, perching yourself on the counter while Tony grabbed an apron, moving around in your kitchen with ease as he brought the things he needed to make the soup.

You spoke back and forth about your work, chuckling when Tony swatted your hand away as you tried to grab a piece of carrot. It felt nice to have him around you again, it felt familiar. He tried for weeks to get you to talk to him, at first, you had ignored all his pleas. But then, for the sake of your daughter, you met with him, heard his apology, allowed him to gather you in his arms when you broke down.

You still needed time and he respected that. From that day on, you had found a way to be around your husband without the need to punish him for his deeds. It still hurt and you still hadn’t forgiven him, but you were amicable.

Noticing he went upstairs to your bedroom, you frowned as he returned with a large knit blanket.

“You get the full Maria Stark treatment tonight.” he winked, wrapping the blanket around you and placing a soft kiss against your forehead, making those butterflies return. He had explained how his mother always made him a soup that helped with all kinds of cold and flu, causing it to magically disappear, hence the name. You knew Tony missed her.

After all this time, he made sure to mention her to his kid, telling her stories about her grandma who would’ve doted on her granddaughter if she were alive.

After making sure you had a big bowl of soup, Tony and you found yourselves on your couch, with your legs draped across his lap, his hands gently massaging your foot. Rhodey had texted that he was taking Emily to dinner, giving you more time with each other before they returned.

“Why was Pepper at the house, Tony?” you blurted out, not beating around the bush.

“I didn’t know she was gonna show up, Y/N. Honestly, I didn’t want her there but she began speaking to Emily and the next thing I know they’re in Em’s room, colouring away. I didn’t want to have an argument in front of her.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at his statement. Surely he could’ve thrown her out if he didn’t want her there?

“Babe, please–”

“I don’t want her spending time with my child, Tony. You’re free to fuck whoever you wish to but she needs to stay away from Emily.” you fought back tears as you said those words, looking away from the man, not wanting him to see you so weak.

Tony knelt in front of you, grabbing both your hands in his, pleading you to look at him.

“She won’t be around our kid, Y/N. I promise you. I don’t plan on seeing her ever. She took me by surprise that day. It won’t happen again. I need you to believe me.”

You allowed him to wipe your tears away with his thumb, managed a small nod before he sat right beside you, opening his arms for you.

Your eyes fell close as Tony embraced you, hugging you to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. His familiar scent enveloped your senses, reminding you of home.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to screw this up. I made a mistake for which I probably don’t deserve your forgiveness but I swear I will do whatever it takes to make myself worthy of your love again. I never stopped loving you and I never will. You and Em are my whole world.” he murmured with utmost sincerity, kissing the top of your head repeatedly as you listened, not bothering to wipe the tears that stained his shirt.

You believed him.

.

“Tony. Tony! Anthony Edward Stark, your daughter is kicking for the first time and you’re missing it.”

You called out after your husband ignored your calls, hunched over his work station in the lab. That however made him snap out of it and sprint over to place both his hands on your belly, feeling your baby kick against his hand rather enthusiastically. He knelt in front of you with the biggest grin you’d seen, placing a kiss against your swollen tummy before speaking to your unborn child.

“I can’t wait to meet you either, sweetheart. I love you so much already. I love you both.” he blinked up at you, filling your heart with happiness.

“We still don’t have a name for this one.” you point out as Tony helped you into a chair, scratching the back of his head as he thought about it.

“Hmm. Rose…Lily…Emily?”

At the mention of Emily, you felt a firm kick that you wince.

“Well she likes Emily, so I guess it’s settled.” you laughed as Tony placed his hands on your belly once again to feel his child respond.

The memory roused you from your sleep as you felt someone crawl on your bed. Tony had stayed over and you both passed out on your bed late last night, and now Emily was crawling her way between the two of you, rubbing her eyes that were still heavy with sleep.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Tony’s voice was almost too loud for the time of the day as your daughter snuggled close to you, wrapping both her arms around your neck.

“Are you feeling better?” Tony asked you, checking your temperature once again. You were feeling better than yesterday already although the exhaustion still prevailed.

“I’m gonna make some coffee–”

“Shh, Daddy!” The irritation in her voice made you giggle as you saw your husband huff playfully and rest his head against his palm, watching the two of you with a soft expression on his face.

“Yeah. Shh Daddy.” you repeated with a grin, cradling Emily against your chest as you closed your eyes again. Not long after, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap both of you in a comforting hug as Tony muttered ‘I’m not missing family snuggle time.’

.

It was the day of the big fundraiser at Stark Tower.

You had made a commitment to show up months ago, given you had helped organize the whole thing in the first place. Plus a part of you felt hopeful since the night Tony stayed over, you saw a glimmer of hope after what had been a painfully grey three months.

Since that day, you saw tangible efforts from Tony towards fixing your marriage, he showed up for Emily’s recitals, checked on you more often than he would, spent several nights over at your place just chatting, it felt easy to get back into routine with him, it felt familiar.

Sure it didn’t erase the past but it felt like a step towards the right direction. Deep down, you knew you wouldn’t want to be away from him, the thought of divorcing Tony was far from your mind now.

You dressed up well for the occasion, got your hair and make up done, you wanted to look good, not just for yourself but for your husband too. A part of you wanted him to realize what he had been missing out on for these past few months.

Your sequined red gown showed off your curves perfectly, the plunging neckline offered just enough cleavage for a tease.

“You look so pretty, Mama!” your daughter made you twirl around before you swooped down to kiss her goodbye. You had arranged for a babysitter for Emily tonight, not wanting her to stay up too late.

Tony had Happy pick you up and drive you over to Stark Tower; he had texted you asking about your outfit, wanting to match his pocket square to the colour of your dress. Opening the door for you, Tony felt his breath hitch as his eyes landed on you. You were a vision.

Offering you his hand, he let his eyes shamelessly rake over your form, drinking you in. His heart sang a happy song at the sight of the stunning engagement ring and wedding band sitting on your finger as he clasped your hand in his.

“Y/N, wow…you look so beautiful.”

You blushed under his gaze, heart fluttering happily as he stepped closer. Unable to help himself, Tony captured your lips in a soft kiss, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, not caring about anything else.

You felt it linger way after it was over, the touch of his lips on yours after such a long time. It made you smile at each other like teenagers who’d kissed for the very first time.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” he cleared his throat as he stepped back, cautious of overwhelming you before he offered you his arm which you gladly took.

As frowned as a vaguely familiar car stopped right outside the entrance, and out stepped the last woman you wanted to lay your eyes on. Pepper Potts.

You weren’t letting her ruin your evening. Not anymore. She had done enough damage. Letting go of Tony’s arm, you stormed right over to her, ready to give her a piece of your mind.

“I don’t remember you being invited here, Pepper. Not tonight. Not ever, actually.” you fumed, trying to keep your anger in check while Tony walked over, glaring at her while keeping an arm around you.

“Oh I never show up unannounced, Tony invited me months ago, didn’t you Tony?” her face was smug, you had to do everything in your power not to punch her right then and there. Tony opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“Unless you want your skinny little arms ripped off, I suggest you crawl back into that car of yours and stay the fuck away from my family.” the death stare you sent her way was enough for her to back off, you saw her gulp and give your husband one last glance before cursing under her breath and leaving.

You strode inside angrily with Tony following two steps behind, equal parts impressed and turned on by your reaction. Motioning the waiter, he offered you a glass of champagne which you downed in one go, letting out a breath you had been holding.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” you whispered, still high on adrenaline as you paced about.

“That was hot, Y/N.” he exclaimed, warily stepping closer to you, glad when you didn’t push him away. You rolled your eyes at his statement but gladly accepted the kiss he offered. He pulled you flush against his chest, pushing his tongue past your lips while your arms found their way behind his neck, tugging on his hair, needing him now more than ever. He shared your sentiment as you felt his erection against your core, making you break the kiss, much to his dismay.

“Really Tony?” you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to split your face as Tony shrugged. Despite the circumstances, the two of you were made for each other, you knew that. You were like a moth to his flame. You couldn’t stay away even if you tried.

“Bathroom. Five minutes.” you gave him a little shove, winking at the man over your shoulder before heading towards the bathroom, ready to claim what was already yours.

[pinksugarscrub]

O Sweet Juliet

Tom Holland! Peter Parker x fem! reader

Inspired by @heihei.edits on tik tok! Thank you again for your permission to make a story of my own. Thank you to @froggheadd for allowing me to use their art 💕 (i'll upload the banner asap!)

Word count: 946

~

“Pete?”

Your voice so soft it's barely above a whisper. Peter immediately perks up and drops his pencil. Like he's been waiting to hear your voice. His eyes search yours as he smiles.

“Yeah?”

“What’s this?”

Scooting your stool closer you ignore the loud squeak it makes across the lab's tile. Peter meanwhile slides his study guide away to the edge of the desk to make room for your textbook, English.

The pages contrast the formulas and theories Peter has been studying for over the past hour.

Normally the two of you would use a timer to keep from overloading your brains. But with finals coming up and an important mission soon after, you had to cram as much information as you could. Ned would also have joined but declined under the excuse his Lola needed him.

He really was your wingman when it came to Peter. You did however, owe him a cartilage of web fluid to mess around with for missing today's study session.

You trace your finger along stanzas before finally reaching line fifty-two. Reciting it before referring back to the essay prompt for your last paper.

“I understand Shakespeare was using pathos but how exactly does that connect to this?”

Peter leaned over you and despite the close proximity he felt so far away. His chin almost resting on your shoulder as he scanned the text. Romeo and Juliet, a “classic”. What? You can't help it if MJ degrades the play every chance she gets.

“Well…” He licked his lips before pulling away. Flipping through the pages as he continued. “The story is about love being blind, right?”

You nod as you look at him quizzically but still with enough patience that you don't interrupt.

“Young love specifically.” Peter finally stops on the prologue. Sticky notes littered in the margins much like the rest of your textbook. Definitions and context mostly.

“Shakespeare sets up this narrative from the beginning.”

The rest of his words fall on deaf ears as you admire him. Peter hasn't noticed that when concentrated, he taps his foot incessantly. Biting his nails as he articulates his next thought. His lashes fluttering remind you of how jealous you are over them.

“So…” you clear your throat as you look back to the textbook. What little words you did catch clicking together like cogs. “By setting up how completely infatuated they are-”

“-their deaths become the payoff,” he completes. Smiling even brighter as he notices that look of understanding flashing in your eyes. One he's seen all too often when you work on Stark tech.

He thinks you're just as bad as his mentor when it comes to your inability to take breaks. The restlessness you get from not being able to solve a miscalculation that leads to midnight coffee runs to the seven-eleven around the corner. Not that he's complaining. If anything, he hopes you'll get the craving for something sweet so he can whisk you away. Have you all to himself without the prying eyes of the other avengers.

Peter's quite aware Tony is hovering through the surveillance cameras. He wouldn't even be surprised if the rest of the team was watching them like their own personal home movie. Frankly he's tired of getting teased, especially by Thor.

“Ok…Ok so-” You shift closer and Peter feels his heart lurch in his chest. It's like you affect him so much his own body can't take being near you.

Would you mind if he peppered kisses along your cheeks when it gets too cold? Hold your hands as he stares at you like you're the most precious thing in his life.

He sometimes wonders if you feel the same way but with how easy you seem to make these interactions he thinks not. Maybe you know enough that these teasing touches are a way to torture him.

“-the scene where they first meet. That's the main foundation for how the reader sees them as a couple.”

Peter nods as he tries not to lean in and kiss you. His eyes dancing between your lips and the pencil you keep chewing on.

“Being star crossed lovers heightens the effect and makes us root for them,” you mumble,“and again is why their deaths are so effective at evoking pathos.”

“Right,” he chuckles.

You lean back but not to far. Stretching your arms over your head as you look down at the mess of notes and candy wrappers you made on Tony's desk. If anything it's to hide how hot your cheeks feel.

“Cool, thanks Pete.” You sneak a glance at him with a quick smile before quickly doting down the major points of your conversation. Ignoring how your heart races once he finally looks away.

“Of course,” he hums. Mind lost on the homework he was doing previously. All these numbers mean squat when you're sitting next to him. His grades would absolutely suffer if he had to share more than one period with you.

Peter must have reread ‘what is the missing angle?’ a dozen times between looking over at you while you admire his reflection through the lab doors.

Somewhere Thor is handing over a wad of cash while Natasha grins over her newfound prize. She gives it until prom season when Peter will have no choice but to ask you out on a date while Tony says it'll be less than a week because that's when the mission is. Adrenaline does something to you y'know? And Bruce…well Bruce just smiles against his coffee mug as he sees your hand reach out for Peter's under the desk. He hopes you like the anniversary gift he helped Peter pick out.